#decon's writing

[transistor-rhythm-909]

Splatoon: Despair Decibel - Kick in da Game

Never underestimate the jester. You just might get your ass kicked.

A bit of a "first draft" for one of the intended scenes in Despair Decibel, featuring skint and one of the project's antagonists, Tetraodontiform- a pufferfish creature in the main big bad's service that presents himself as a priest, and who further manipulates those under The Hertz' influence with his insane holy ramblings to drive them into fanaticism. It was also a bit of a dry run of showing that though Skint is a very lighthearted character, he's a lot more competent and headstrong then some people give him credit for- and surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly) adept in a fight. He's still a corny motherfucker though, as some of the lines in here should indicate.

Named for Kick in da Game, by Masafumi Takada. Though the actual 'score' for the main action parts of this story + what inadvertantly inspired the entire scene, is DA PEOPLE by Hideki Naganuma.

***

As he skulked through the upper floors of Inkopolis Tower, the thing that disturbed Skint the most was how eerily pristine it was. The Plaza was ground zero for The Hertz, and though the area had since been secured, the scars of those early battles remained. And yet inside here... it was like nothing had happened. Everything was as it should be, barring the lack of people.

Made his frickin' skin layer crawl, for real.

Still, he had a job to do; Terracotta Canosa was sure those things The Dope One was using to bring all his cronies back from beyond the grave with- the 'Resurrection Dubplates', he thinks they called them?- were here, and they'd assured him his skills were necessary to retrieve them.

A polite way of saying “we need a thief”. He wasn't offended.

He had his doubts, though. He wasn't much of a military mind, but it would seem... extremely dumb to store something so important in somewhere so unsecure? It was all he could think as he poked into every office, dove into every filing cabinet; surely the big blue whale wasn't that stupid?

'No, but he would be that cocky'. That's what Lyre, the leader of the harpy group, had said when he raised that concern.

Skint could see the logic, he supposed. But it wasn't until walking into the restaurant in the main observation deck, and seeing a vinyl crate just plonked on a random table, that it really sunk in.

“Yeah... dude's MAD cocky.” Skint whispered to himself, as he approached the crate. It was sealed shut with what looked to be a rudimentary padlock- the kinda shit you use to lock up bikes.

Skint couldn't help but chuckle, pulling out the lock-picking gear he'd procured earlier. “Jeez... the cojones on this guy.”

It barely took any time fiddling with the tumblers to open the lock- seconds, if anything...

“I'd step away from that, if I were you.”

… but still long enough for someone to get the drop on him.

Skint sighed, turning around, keep his arms down and behind his back. He came face to face with that weird Pufferfish in the priestly garb, whom was currently aiming a very old looking pistol in his hand- it didn't seem to be ink based. He kinda looked a little worse for wear though- his other arm hung limply at his side, indicating it was broken, and he was covered in wounds.

Skint smirked. “Got a little roughed up did'ja, bro?”

A shot rang out, whizzing by his ear and making him flinch, but Skint kept smirking, even as the pufferfish growled.

“Back in my day, people who cracked wise at those who were armed died faster.” Tetraodontiform snarked, his lips curling into a snarl as his cheeks began to bulge. “Step away from the relics, please.”

Skint shuffled lazily to the side, sighing. “You really wanna do this, man? You can barely stand.”

Tetraodontiform smiled. “We've done our intel, Skint. You're unaffiliated with the NSS, you've no authentic combat training, your Turf War record is abysmal, you can barely handle arguments between your friends for goodness sake...” The pufferfish stalked closer, shortening the gap between them. “Even in my current condition, you're outmatched, my inky friend.”

Skint rolled his eyes. “I see why they called you up, then. Even a terminal fuckup like you can't screw this up.”

Tetraodontiform snarled, re-aligning the pistol with Skint's head. “You Inkfish simply don't know when to stop talking, do you?”

“Alright.” Skint said, reaching into his large backpack and quickly retrieving a standard black-and-white soccer ball, dropping it to the ground and placing his left foot atop it.

Tetraodontiform looked down in disbelief... before letting out an unruly laugh, dropping his aim and clutching his stomach. “What... is that your weapon?”

“Sure is.” Skint said, smiling brightly.

Tetraodontiform only laughed harder. “This is a farce! I cannot understand why The Dope One is so concerned with you, bumbling clown that you are. This is the best those ridiculous birds could do? This is their 'Champion'? Good grief, I fear I'll sooner die of hilarity at your incompetence than any threat you po-”

The pufferfish was cut off when the soccer ball struck him in the face very, very hard- with enough force to send him flying backwards and into some of the tables and chairs; it rebounded, cleanly, right back to Skint, trapping it with his other foot. “Looks like we 'Inkfish' ain't the only ones who can't help yappin', huh?”

Tetraodontiform recovered quick, but was clearly shaken as he tried to stand, staring back at Skint. “What in Gods name-”

The ball came flying towards him again, striking him in the stomach- hard- sending him back to the floor and knocking the wind out of him, causing his cheeks to involuntarily inflate; the ball, again, rebounded cleanly back to Skint's waiting foot.

“So you guys did your homework, huh?” Skint said, kicking the soccer ball upwards, starting to play a game of keepy-uppy as he spoke. “Cool. So you dudes know I'm a big Soccer guy then, right? 'Course you do! No big secret, 'course- I got more Cincelichthys Palace kit shirts then I've had hot meals, I do five-a-side with some folks every weekend, yadda yadda. Y'know, my parents- when they weren't trynna make me feel like shit- used to say I could go pro, if I wanted, that I got what it takes.”

Tetraodontiform, still panting, finally pulled himself to his feet, staring daggers at Skint. “Is there a point to this drivel, Inkling?”

“Point is, I done played a lot'a soccer. Watched a lot of it, too. I know all the tricks and skills like the back of my hand. But there's one thing in particular I learned that's prolly more important than any of that stuff.”

Tetraodontiform took aim, preparing to fire-

Only for Skint to head the ball as it came up, bouncing it off the floor and striking Tetraodontiform in the face as it bounded off the floor; the pufferfish stumbled as he let out a roar of pain, but remained standing, and Skint once more caught the ball on the rebound- subtly bouncing it off of his chest before catching it under one of his feet.

“Getting hit with the ball really friggin' hurts.”

Tetraodontiform let out a cry of fury, unleashing several shots in Skint's direction. Skint began dribbling with the ball, dodging the pufferfishes gunshots with ease and finesse fare beyond what was expected of him. Every now and then, Skint would get a shot of the ball off that either struck Tetraodontiform directly, or rebounded off of something first. It drove the pufferfish mad as he continued to miss every shot he took yet Skint always managed to land his, occasionally switching tactics to get in close and try to catch Skint with one of his lethal barbs, but the Inkling would just roll and use his backpack as a shield.

This dance went on for what felt like hours to the Pufferfish, each strike doing more and more damage as his already weakened body took a concerning amount of damage from the ball, his aim getting even less steady and accurate as pain and exhaustion seeped through every inch of his body.

Eventually, he collapsed to his knees, panting heavily, wounds reopened and oozing ancient blood, dropping the gun, back facing the large panelled windows. Skint just stared down at him from a small distance away, an uncharacteristically fierce look of contempt in his eyes.

“This is ridiculous..” Tetraodontiform groaned, gulping as he desperately tried to take in air. “You're a pacifist... a noncombatant... a practical jokester, a witless weakling, a good for nothing slacker, a NOBODY...!”

Skint frowned. “You really think I was gonna just roll over and let you and your boss do what they want to my home? My neighbours? Innocent people? Get real, dude. 'Sides, you think I'd still be here if I didn't know how and when to scrap? Face it, bud; you underestimated the jester, and now you're the fool.”

“This humiliation will not stand...” Tetraodontiform grunted, as he shakily rose to his feet, stumbling around in an almost drunken manner as he tried and failed to stay upright. “I am the holy envoy of the Dope One... I am the just right hand to the one true God of this world... I will be the one to bathe it in bright, undying light!!!”

“Yeah?” Skint scoffed, chuckling slightly. “Alright, holy dude, remind me; what did Satan say to Lucifer?”

Tetraodontiform looked at Skint with a bewildered expression, before screaming in fury, taking aim one last time and firing-

Which Skint dodged effortlessly, turning on the spot and catching the soccer ball with the sole of his foot; the ball bounced around the observation deck, off of several windows with frightening speed and ferocity, before it finally slammed directly into Tetraodontiform, with enough force to send him careening backwards into the window...

… and then through it, plummeting to the ground below.

“'Watch out; that fall's a doozy.” Skint quipped to himself, before quietly strolling over to the formerly sealed vinyl crate, carrying it underarm as he headed out of the observation deck.

[catbusdriver]

I think that's why stuff like Palworld are so successful.

Yes, it makes fun of certain elements in Pokemon

You have guns

You can catch people

You can eat your Pals (this has been implied with Pokemon for a while)

But you can tell that it's made with genuine affection towards what it's deconstructing.

Treating your Pals right is more practical than being a slave driver.

Catching humans is horribly impractical (the cops WILL be on your ass) etc

Reading deconstructions made with love for the genre will change your life.

[quasi-normalcy]

Which Star Trek series should you start with?

The Original Series: Advantages: + The one that started it all + Has some sophisticated and socially conscious science fiction that has held up exceptionally well + The lead characters all have really good chemistry and fun to see play off of one another + It's what most people probably think of when you say Star Trek (together with TNG) Disadvantages: - It can feel very dated and kind of sexist, particularly in its treatment of women - The sci-fi and social commentary may have held up, but damn it, the special effects really haven't - When TOS is bad, it's really, really bad.

The Animated Series: Advantages: + Basically just more TOS. Disadvantages: - Basically just more TOS, but substituting extremely cheap animation for bad special effects

The Next Generation: Advantages: + Probably the most popular one at this point + The crew is full of interesting characters and they're fun to spend time with + Just really smart people solving Space Mysteries + Socialist space utopia + Geordi-And-Data! + Lots of cool sci-fi concepts and social commentary + It's what most people probably think of when you say Star Trek (together with TOS) Disadvantages: - Although not in the same way as TOS, it can feel dated at times, particularly in terms of its treatment of women and it's near complete refusal to acknowledge queerness - Without wanting to bias viewer opinion, the first season is widely considered to be pretty bad - The series makes no bones about the fact that the socialist space utopia is better than every other society that has ever existed and will reiterate this point over and over again

Deep Space Nine: Advantages: + The most popular Trek series on Tumblr + Has a complete story arc, as well as arcs for all of its characters, including the extremely minor ones + Plain, simple, Garak. The humble tailor. + Garashir, if you're into that + Seriously has a really sophisticated treatment of things like post-colonial politics, anthropology, worldbuilding, and the horrors of warfare + Just the characters in general + Is the only Star Trek prior to the 2010s to even look meaningfully at queer representation Disadvantages: - Has an absolutely massive inferiority complex with respect to TNG and this drives a few poor writing decisions that seemingly exist just to poke the Socialist Space Utopia in its eye - Introduces a space religion and then just slowly turns it into Christianity with the numbers filed off - Seems to think that sexual harassment is just a quirky eccentricity - There's no women in its writers' room, and frankly it shows

Voyager: Advantages: + Probably the clearest instance of found family in space + Lots of really good episodes + Lots of fun new characters + Strong female role models + "Set a course...for home." Disadvantages: - Continuity? I never knew her! - Probably about 90% of Trek's reputation for technobabble comes from this one series - Even less queerness than TNG. - Only like...3 characters actually get arcs. - The first few seasons lean very hard into bullshit fake "Native American" spiritualism with one of the characters - How do these guys have warp drive but can't find any water?

Enterprise: Advantages: + Chronologically the first series + 90% less technobabble + The only series to plausibly frame our heroes as astronauts...on some kind of...star trek. + Still has probably the best production values of any series + Makes alien cultures of the week feel somehow richer and deeper than other series + Faith of the Heart is good, fuck you. Disadvantages: - Oh my god, the decon scenes - Seriously, if you've ever wondered what a "sexy" series written by a 14 year old boy who's only ever seen a bit of scrambled softcore porn on late-night cable would be like, this is the show for you - Somehow feels more sexist and racist than the show from the '60s - Seriously, the POC characters mostly exist to fill seats on the bridge; the women constantly have to undress themselves - Hellooooo, Bush II-era political analogies - Scott Bakula is a good actor but you wouldn't know it from this series - In season 3, they add a tambourine beat to Faith of the Heart and ruin it

Discovery: Advantages: + Noticed the lack of queer characters in the first 50 years of Star Trek canon and decided to make up for lost time + Seriously, the "Bury Your Gays" tally for this series is like...negative two + Just incredible representation in general + Some really good science fiction plots, particularly in later series + Some really fun, memorable characters + It's still running, so it has an active fandom on Tumblr Disadvantages: - Makes Elon Musk out to be one of the great visionary geniuses of history - Not really representative of Star Trek as a whole - The series swerves wildly in tone because of constant, behind-the-scenes churn in the writers' room - Offputtingly grimdark first season - Let's be honest, none of the season-long arcs have actually had satisfying conclusions - Half the cast feels like it's just there for exposition and to be killed for cheap drama

Picard: Advantages: + Has the best dramatic acting of any Star Trek series by a fair margin + Has the best musical score of any Star Trek series + Introduces a whole crew of fascinating new characters + Introduces all kinds of fascinating transhumanist concepts + AGNES. JURATI. Disadvantages: - You know all of those fascinating new characters that I mentioned? Yeah, it unceremoniously gets rid of all of them to bring back the old TNG gang. - You know that all of those fascinating transhumanist concepts that I mentioned? Yeah, it gets rid of those too so that to give us some generic action - Oh my god, someone teach the set designers to operate a fucking light switch - Grimdark - Nossssstalgia - Each season is basically unrelated to every other season - Depends so heavily on TNG that its final season is basically unwatchable if you haven't already seen a 30-year-old TV series

Lower Decks: Advantages: + It has probably the most efficient storytelling that I've ever seen; seriously, it's incredible how much it can fit into a half hour episode + It has a bunch of delightful, archetypical characters you get to know and love + You like hanging out with these people + The ship is kind of crap and you will learn to love it that way. + Basically a sitcom version of TNG. + Has a big fandom on Tumblr Disadvantages: - The art style is pretty Rick & Morty-ish - It takes most of its first season to really strike a good balance between being a sitcom and being a Star Trek series - The main character, Mariner, is kind of unlikable for the first season or so (she gets better) - Lots of callbacks to other series (though always either incidental or clearly explained) - Given that it's the first Star Trek sitcom, the comedy is honestly kinda the weakest part? Subjective I know.

Prodigy: Advantages: + Absolutely gorgeous to look at; the most visually stunning Star Trek by quite a ways + Lots of fun new characters on a cool ship + Gives you clear on-boarding notes to the Star Trek franchise if you're watching it for the first time + Can be watched on its own, but also works as a direct sequel to Voyager and a prequel to Picard (making both of them retoractively better, in fact) + Kind of like the Clone Wars or Rebels of the Star Trek universe, I guess? + Found family in space! The next generation! + Soon to be running on Netflix, so if you already have a Netflix subscription, you don't need to pay for another service + Written for a younger audience. Not necessarily an advantage, but nice if you happen to like family friendly animation or YA. Disadvantages: - *sigh* You basically need to pirate it. Thanks, Paramount. - Has a second season that we may or may not ever actually get to see even through piracy. Thanks, Paramount. - Isn't airing on the same streaming service as all of the other ones. Thanks, Paramount

Strange New Worlds: Advantages: + Basically what the original series would be if it were released today, rather than 57 years ago; all of the cool, socially consciousness sci-fi adventure, none of the weird 60s sexism + Fun, awesome characters you get to like spending time with right away + Incredible visuals + Nifty sci-fi concepts, mostly without the 90s-style technobabble Disadvantages: - A huge cast with only ten episodes a season, so many of them feel underdeveloped - Unfortunately, a bunch of its characters are younger versions of the characters from The Original Series, and they hog most of the spotlight; and the characters whose futures aren't locked in stone are kind of treated as disposable - In general, it needs to spend less time being a prequel, and more time being its own thing - "What if Starfleet ran into the Xenomorphs from Alien?" "Well, they'd probably kill them." "Okay, let's spend several episodes on this."

[quinnkdev]

i wrote a short thing about OFF, and my relationship to it as its translator; thoughts ive wanted to put into words for a while.

you can read it here as well, under the cut.

wait! wait... there is more to be said about OFF than, at the time of my previous review, i had the bandwidth for. i had, temporarily, reached a point of saturation with it - you only regurgitate a game's text again and again so many times until you start getting a bit weary of it, after all - but now that the bomb has burst and the remake is public knowledge (i kept that stuff secret for 2+ years!), i have the peace of mind to really unpack this. OFF was my companion for the late end of my teen years and more or less the whole of my current adulthood. the better - maybe even the best parts of my life - were (at least in part) shaped by adoration for and dedication to this game and its story. OFF survived the beginning and end of several friendships and relationships (romantic or otherwise) throughout my life, and i project it will survive many more - if not me, as a living human being. and i hope you understand that this is a lot to put into writing. can you imagine? something you did at 16 years old, because you were bored and liked a video game; a text someone else made, passed through you like a pamphlet - outgrowing you like that, becoming larger than you may ever be? i wrestle with that feeling frequently. some would grow resentful of the object of this kind of ruminating, especially as a writer and gamedev themselves- but i can't find it in me to ever hate OFF, no matter how often i hear about it; there simply is nothing like it. OFF has created several core memories that i can flash back to. i remember the knot in my stomach at its ending. i remember that it was time to sleep, and i remember staring at the ceiling, closing my eyes, and seeing void behind them, with white bedsheet ghosts floating there. i remember the resolve to translate it. i remember: "i have to show this to decon" (a friend that i've long since stopped speaking to). i remember isaiah (friend i lost touch with, number 2) asking me to keep working on the translation because he loved the game and wanted to know what happens in zone 2. i remember a vacation in france i mostly spent on a shoddy laptop my grandmother owned, on slow (maybe dial-up) internet, tinkering in RPG maker 2003, trying to make more headway in a language i only barely knew better than the one i was translating from. i remember this more than the majority of the relationship that introduced me to the game. that's sad to consider, isn't it? can a story be more significant than a person? i was very unwell for large parts of the time i spent working on this translation. i had dark thoughts; i feared impossible and possible things both. i was depressed, and i made very real attempts to turn the world in the only window i know - my eyes - off. permanently. and maybe- that is why OFF is larger than me. because in the negative space of its conclusion, in the turning of the final switch from ON to OFF, there lies a question: "is all this despair, all this hurt, all this misery and all of this unsolvable injustice of this world worth it?" and OFF, in my opinion, says: yes. or at least, for me it did. i'm not letting go of these memories, or of these stories, or of my adoration for this game. i love it more by the day. i owe a lot to it. this isn't a funeral, it's a celebration. thank you, OFF, and thank you, mortis ghost. i would not be here, i would not be this, and i would not be me without you.

[kellysue]

Members of the cast of #FMLComix tell you how to pre-order #FMLComix.

FML #1 arrives in November 2024 with main cover art by David López and variant covers featuring artwork by Alvaro Martinez Bueno, David LaFuente, Nicola Scott (1:10 incentive variant), and Pepe Larraz (1:25 incentive variant). One additional variant cover will be revealed at a later date. Each issue will feature bonus material such as essays on music, true crime, interviews, and more that will be exclusive only to the single issues.

“David and I have been talking about doing something creator-owned together since Captain Marvel, but it took years for the stars and our schedules to properly align,” said DeConnick. “Now that we’re here though, it almost feels planned — like we needed exactly as long as it took us to grow and change, both as artists and as people, so that we could come back together for this big swing.

“FML is a challenging book — stylistically and in tone — and I’m not sure we could have pulled it off five years ago, honestly. But here we are—and I’m so proud of and impressed by the work put in by everyone involved. David is drawing like he’s got something to prove, Cris is pulling disparate styles together seamlessly, tying them together with her palette and Clayton of course, our ace and secret weapon, works his subtle magic on lettering to make sure you hear everything in your head exactly the way it was intended. McCubbin developed this terrific logo that evolves with each issue, and I don’t even know where to start with how supportive and inspiring Daniel Chabon’s editorial team has been. They’ve given us exactly what we needed at every step along the way.

“For my part, FML feels of a piece with Pretty Deadly and Bitch Planet; it’s as personal as the former and as satirical and of-the-moment as the latter.”

"This is without a doubt one of the best and most important books I have had the honor to edit in my fifteen years in the comic book industry,” added Senior Editor Daniel Chabon. “I have been a tremendous fan of this creative team for a long, long time; and I cannot wait for everyone to pick up this series and to see what an amazing achievement it is."

Riley is a 16-year-old heavy metal kid who draws down his anxiety with a ballpoint pen. His mother is an aging punk cartoonist slam dancing with a true crime obsession. Bound by threads of magical realism, they navigate the absurdities and horrors of our modern lives.

Issue one introduces Riley’s daily life: terrorism diaries, school shooter drills, and social pressures under the constant shadow of encroaching wildfires that rain ash like a morbid snow. His refuge? The Forest Park Witch’s House, where tales of chaos magic and trickster gods promise some semblance of sense in a senseless world.

Echoing the comedy of “Bottoms,” the nostalgic pull of “Stranger Things,” and the coming-of-age journey in “Stand By Me,” DeConnick’s first return to creator-owned comics since Bitch Planet is an apocalyptic odyssey that speaks to the resilience of the misfit and the power of art.

FML #1 (of 8) arrives in comic shops on November 6, 2024. It is now available to pre-order at your your local comic shop for $4.99.

Be sure to follow DarkHorseComics on social media and check our website, www.darkhorse.com for more news, announcements, and updates.

Praise Kelly Sue DeConnick and David López: “DeConnick has always combed top-notch lyrical text with a knack for bringing out the best in the artists she works with.”—Polygon

“Kelly Sue DeConnick either writes with a King Midas pen, is one of the few remaining wizards in the world, or, most likely, is just that damn good because Bitch Planet is yet another amazing series with her name on the cover.”—Word on the Nerd

“Pretty Deadly pushes at the limits of medium, challenging our ideas of what comics can be.”—IGN

“Kelly Sue DeConnick’s Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons may just be the best thing to come out of the Black Label line to date.”—IGN

“Kelly Sue DeConnick is a force in comics.”—Book Riot

“Kelly Sue DeConnick—a powerhouse in the comics world.”—Salon

“A primal scream in exquisitely worked gold.”—Polygon on Wonder Woman Historia: The Amazons

“López’s pencils are like a breath of fresh air. His style evokes a classic superhero aesthetic while still bringing subtle emotional vulnerability to these characters through strong storytelling and page design.”—Nerds Unchained on Captain Marvel (2014)

[almarirpg]

End of 2023 Check-in

Hey all, with the end of the year being well, today, I figured it was probably about time for another update.

Things are still going strong in the writing department and it is still my primary focus, plus life has finally given me a bit of a break so things are going stronger than ever. The story is approaching its final draft and the concept work for mid and late game is really coming together! 

As the story falls into place, Post Elvis has been filling in the gaps on the soundtrack as we both add new songs and begin to replace some old songs as well.

In the gameplay department, the touch encounters and battle transition are approaching their final version:

And as the writing continues I've been wrapping up and revising the planning documents for a number of dungeons as well! We were cooking last time but now we're boiling!

Outside of Almari, the team's been releasing tons of cool stuff on their own!

Post Elvis recently released his huge new album I Can't Wait To Get There. Dude's been working on this for a hot minute so please check it out! The result is really cool! 

@punkitt-is-here released the demo for her Wario Land inspired game Susan Taxpayer and also became famous for drawing My Little Pony comics?!

Decon Theed released 103 Works #09 featuring a handful of some pretty rad tracks!

Reteryisk (who voices Bethera) released two whole visual novels which is insane. Check out Pumpkin Seeds: The 51st Floor & Date Night At Mary-Jane's Therapy Club!

And lastly, I've been posting art on my Ko-fi, both Almari and not if you want to check that out and/or wanted a way to support my work!

That's probably about it for schilling for this year lol.

All in all, the game's coming along and becoming cooler day by day. 

Thanks for reading, and I hope you all have a

-DemonClaus

[toxictoad]

Silly things about the Decon AU:

It takes Bill all of two minutes in a human body to almost die (he ate forest plants)

Mabel and Soos make him try every flavor of dorito. His favorite is cool ranch

Stan and Mabel organize the annual Pride Parade in Gravity Falls. This has nothing to do with Bill I just need you to know that's canon in my heart

Gompers LOVES Bill. For some inexplicable reason the goat seeks him out and is always bleating for food and attention. Stan hates this. Mabel is thrilled. Bill just wants him to stop chewing holes in his clothes.

Speaking of clothes: Bill decides to dress like a lazy punk. I know I only ever draw him in his cargo pants/crop top/leather jacket fit but his closet is full of flannels and black jeans

He loves that fucking leather jacket though. It's his favorite thing ever (He thinks he looks cool. That's... debatable).

His cover name for the rest of the town is Nill Nipher. Nobody questions this. Stan forges him a fake ID

Bill starts playing D&D&MD. At first it was because he was just jealous that Ford was paying attention to Dipper and not him, but he actually started to have fun. He likes playing bards. Will never touch warlocks. Dipper asks him to help with monster designs

Bill learns to knit. Mostly from Abuelita, sometimes from Mabel. I'm weirdly obsessed with this even though I don't know anything about knitting. I might write a fic about it idk.

The twins make Bill do the 'I was wrong' song. To clarify this happens in like the first week. No one believes that he's changed yet and no one trusts him. They just want the blackmail

Mabel and Bill go on an adventure. When they get back he's covered in glitter and she's covered in blood. They're both having a great time

[talshiargirlfriend]

Oooh for fun if you're feeling the inspo!

I wish you would write a fic where... Trip and T'pol are stuck in the decontamination chamber from a power short/outtage for way longer than they should be—usual banter in full force😉

Okay, so this was stuck in my brain way longer than it should have been, but now it’s free! I hope you like it. ☺️

The decontamination chamber was not a sexy place. It was essentially a medical facility.

Trip prided himself on his professionalism. His discipline and skill in compartmentalising could impress a Vulcan. Here in Decon, his companion was not the woman who frequently shared his bed. And his dreams. And his shower.

She was Commander T’Pol, his respected colleague.

And she was cranky as hell.

Mid-decontamination shower the lights had flickered and gone dark. Captain Archer’s voice informed them of power fluctuations. “We’ve got everything under control. Enjoy your spa day,” he joked.

Trip rolled his eyes and noticed with a smirk that T’Pol was fighting not to do the same.

Phlox’s voice piped up over the intercom just as the emergency lighting activated. “I’m passing spare clothes through the drawer. Please apply the gel and allow it to dry for five minutes before dressing.”

Their clothes had been completely soaked by the spray from the strange little skunk-sloth creature they had startled on the planet.

“You want me to get your ears?” Trip quipped from his side of the divider. He was very carefully not thinking about the fact that she was naked and covered in gel on the other side.

“I believe I have the situation in hand, Commander,” she responded drily.

Trip closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. Did she have to say it like that?

Once dry, they got to put on the snazzy sickbay jammies Phlox had provided. Trip made a mental note to quietly mention to Phlox that underwear would be nice in these circumstances, but since T’Pol dressed without complaint he did the same.

That had been an hour ago.

“Hey Doc, any update on when we can get out of here?”

There was a long pause.

Trip was just about to activate the comm again when Phlox’s voice came through the speaker.

“Well, Commander, the good news is that neither of you appears to be carrying anything harmful or infectious.”

Trip closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “And the bad news?”

“The bad news is that the power fluctuations have triggered a lockdown. Crewman Rostov assures me he’s ‘working on it’!” Phlox’s cheerful voice sounded a little doubtful.

Trip sighed and sat back down on the bench.

T’Pol was supposedly meditating, but she clearly wasn’t. The silent treatment was getting to him.

“I’m really sorry I got us into this mess,” Trip said miserably. “There was nothing on the scanner. How long do you think it’ll be logical for you to stay mad at me?”

T’Pol looked startled, “Trip, I am not angry with you.”

“You sure? ‘Cause you seem…” he chose his words carefully, “a little unsettled.”

T’Pol looked down before answering. “I am concerned I was distracted by our conversation when I should have been more aware of our surroundings. You were not harmed due to my poor judgment, but that is simply good fortune.”

They had been enjoying a lovely day exploring a new planet and getting a rare breath of fresh air. He had paused to point out a flower that reminded him of one from her mother’s garden. When the creature trilled before popping out of the foliage, T’Pol had stepped in front of him with her phase pistol at the ready, which was how she got sprayed as well as him.

Trip rolled his tongue against his cheek and considered his response. This was clearly a serious concern for her, and he needed to respect that. Balancing her personal needs with her professional responsibilities was not simple or easy for T’Pol.

“I think you should talk to Malcolm when we get out of here. You know he won’t sugarcoat things. If there’s something you should do differently next time he'll tell you.”

T’Pol looked slightly nonplussed by his logical suggestion.

“Now, you wanna know what I think?” he asked.

She nodded.

“T’Pol, nothing showed up on our scanners. You heard that noise before it even registered on the equipment, and you responded before any of us knew what was happening.

You can’t predict or plan for every outcome. There are always going to be surprises, and you just have to roll with it as best you can, which is exactly what you did. You’re not… you’re not becoming distracted and abrogating your duties. You’re just … also, enjoying life sometimes.”

She was silent for several breaths, taking that in.

“What do you think?” Trip ventured at last.

“I think that you have become very sensible.”

“You're the most sensible person I know. You must be rubbing off on me.”

She cocked an eyebrow and muttered “not yet” just barely loud enough for him to hear.

He snorted, “Glad you’ve recovered your sense of humour.”

“Vulcans do not have a sense of humour,” she said, deadpan.

“Of course not.” He agreed solemnly, then grinned when her lips twitched just slightly.

They sat in a much more companionable silence for a while before Phlox’s voice informed them that the lockdown should be released shortly.

“Great news! I can’t wait to get out of here,” Trip enthused while T’Pol sat placidly.

Trip Trucker was very capable of separating the personal from the professional.

But knowing they were due to get out soon he was finding it a little hard to ignore the fact that his beautiful girlfriend was sitting across from him looking adorable and cracking jokes and not wearing any damn underwear.

He tried practicing the breathing she had taught him but he made the mistake of watching her to time himself. The rise and fall of her chest was not a good focal point. He choked back a laugh.

“Commander- Trip, are you all right?”

“Huh?”

“Your face is flushed and your heart rate is elevated. Are you feeling unwell?”

He cleared his throat, “I’m fine. I was just um, thinking… about you,” he admitted with a meaningful glance.

Realisation lit her face and he felt the associated emotions spark against the back of his mind like fireworks. Surprise, followed by affectionate exasperation, and then a nice twinkly hint of arousal. She enjoyed being desired by him.

“What is the expression? Hold that thought,” she told him with the slightest hint of a smirk.

“I’d rather hold—“

Her stern look cut him off just as a loud click resounded in the enclosed space.

“Commanders,” Phlox announced cheerfully, “I’m delighted to tell you you’re free to go!”

They just about managed to maintain a dignified pace as they made their exit.

[samantha-chicago]

Who I Write For

These are all the characters I write for. Please keep this in mind when requesting anything.

All requests will be written in a female POV Many Thanks

Chicago P.D.

Adam Ruzek Jay Halstead Kevin Atwater Dante Torres Hailey Upton Kim Burgess Greg 'Mouse' Gerwtiz Hank Voight (Not Romantically)

Chicago Fire

Kelly Severide Joe Cruz Matthew Casey Blake Gallo Stella Kidd Randall 'Mouch' McHolland (Not Romantically) Sam Carver Brian 'Otis' Zvonecek Christopher Herrmann (Not Romantically) Wallace Boden (Not Romantically) Sylvie Brett Violet Mikami Leslie Shay

Chicago Med

Connor Rhodes William Halstead

911 Lone Star / 911

Evan Buckley Eddie Diaz TK Strand Carlos Reyes

S.W.A.T

Christina 'Chris' Alonso James 'Jim' Street Victor Tan Dominique Luca Daniel 'Hondo' Harroldson Decon 'Dec' Kay (Not Romantically)

[outpost51]

Stellar Parallax

Chapter 10: Hide and Seek

They were here first.

Rating: Mature

Chapter WC: 8,995

Warning(s): violence, gore

Preview below the cut.

{READ HERE ON AO3}

Watch out for him.

John rested his forehead on the airlock door while he waited for the decon sequence to complete.

Don’t ever let your guard down.

Should he warn Jane? If Anderson was worried about Saren…

Who tore a Cabal apart with her bare hands?

Hell, maybe he should warn Saren . John snorted to himself. The Spectre had his hands full, that was for sure.

“Share with the class?” Nihlus drawled from the other side of the airlock. He’d taken a page from John’s book, leaning his head against the cool metal wall, arms crossed over his broad chest and legs crossed at his ankles. Relaxed.

Concerned about your old mentor, are you?

John slid his eyes to Nihlus. There was tension in his shoulders, and he was tapping his talons on his arm. Not relaxed, then. Just appearing to be. How much of Saren had rubbed off on him? How much like his old mentor would he be? “Just thinking,” he said quietly. “Who’s trapped in the small metal box with who?”

Nihlus snorted. “Call Silence a small metal box around Saren, please.” He lifted his arm, briefly activating his omnitool. “But warn me first, I wanna record his reaction.”

Not that much like his old mentor, then.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Helix Taglist: @sparatus @thetrashbagswasteland @teamdilf @tabswrites @starknstarwars @sparrow-orion-writes @captain-kraken @cljordan-imperium

Ask to +/- in the tags, replies, DMs, or HERE!

[romana-after-dark]

Hiii, I would looove to know if you gonna continue writing "Room of Fire". I'm so obsessed with this and with Frankie. Xoxo.

omg hi no way I'm literally writing right now. Heres a preview!!!!!

******

Unfortunately for Jonah, Will’s fiance was the prettiest woman he’d ever seen in his life. When the courtship started and Delilah made a near daily appearance at the mansion, Jonah tried to stamp down the festering feelings in his stomach. She was sweet, a bright patch in the dreary world, and she treated him like an actual person. When her eyes were on him, he felt more than when Beatriz went down on him. Sparks he only felt while… well, while with Marcus, but that was different. Marcus was his friend, of course.

Delilah was someone Decon Tom introduced to Will, or rather, brought to his attention. She was devout, angelic, innocent beauty,

It all began as most bad things did for him, in the kitchen getting a snack. Delilah walked in, skimpy little night dress and looking so, so pretty.

“Hi.” She smiles at him, making Jonah blush. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Ever since she moved in, Jonah’s been keeping his distance. It’s safer that way. He blushes and looks down at the bread he’s buttering, shaking his head. “I think it’s best.”

A step closer. “But I miss our late night talks…” 

“I don’t… I don’t think those are appropriate…”

Another. She’s next to him now, the heat of her body warming the chill of anxiety through him. This was dangerous. This was bad.

Very fucking bad.

Not bad enough to stop though.

When Delilah’s hand touched his back, it was all over for him.

For months they carried out their affair, sneaking in fuck sessions between wedding planning and Will making her scream loud enough Jonah could hear, forcing jealousy to bubble in his stomach because she always had to stifle her moans with him, hushed orgasmed pressed into pillows, bites marks for something to latch onto to. She was perfect. It started as somewhere to relieve the tension that had been building from- no one in particular, certainly not the bear of a man sitting accross from him right now, staring him down.

“You need to get your shit together, Hanson.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why did I see Delilah leaving your room at 3 am?”

Jonah blushed, but in his slightly drunken state, he couldn’t help but find it a little funny. Was Marcus jealous?

*******

flashback episode!!!! lots of Jonah, Marcus, Delilah, and even Beatriz!!!

Can't say there'll be much of the boys this chapter, this is giving the truth of what happened the night of the attempted uprising and the night Jonah attempted to assult madonna.

then two more chapters!!!!!!

Ive been suffering some pretty bad writers block for this chapter, even though i saw it so clear in my head back in febuary. Its coming on 1 year since this was first in the works, crazy....

im so close, and if this is good i'll have pulled off a lot of twists over these chapters. Thanks for all your support!!!!

[transistor-rhythm-909]

Splatoon: Gone

When Siltmat was still homeless, she met two people who would change her world. Two people whom she would love very dearly. Two people that she was going to spend a bright future with.

Then one day, they were gone. Forever.

And she dreads the day they come back.

A little look into some of Siltmat's back story, an introduction to two important figures in that backstory, and an unexpected (and angsty) answer to a question.

Named for GONE by SCJ.

***

Thunder and lightning raged in the sky outside the apartment building, the wind and rain thrashing violently against the windows. Incredibly unseasonal weather for the Splatlands.

Siltmat barely noticed, nor cared. She was exhausted; her limbs ached and her eyes were heavy and sore, and the frigid air of her flat stung her skin layer, but instead of curling up in bed and trying to sleep, she was curled up in a chair by her wardrobe, the doors cracked open and barely illuminated by a tiny lamp all the way over by said bed.

She was looking at that photo.

Her, and Octoling girl with an almost pompadour like pink tentacle style named Wiija, and a non-binary Inkling who's long brown tentacles almost entirely obscured their face named Doku, smiles on all their faces despite their shabby clothing, posing for the camera with sandwiches in their hands- probably the first decent food they'd had in a while.

She can't recall exactly when she met the two of them- it was in the latter days of her time on the streets, she recalls that much. She remembers where she met them, though; an alleyway somewhere near the centre of the city, fighting for cramped space in a doorway that would obscure them from the rain- as heavy then as it was tonight. Siltmat, also desperate for rest and on edge, took the chance to jump them and get mucked into the fight. The ruckus was loud enough to catch the attention of whoever owned the building the doorway lead into, and the proprietor- a stocky trout with heavy facial scarring- chased them for a couple of blocks, threatening to haul them to the police station himself. After losing him down a longer, more sheltered alleyway, the strangest thing happened;

The three of them started laughing. Together. Siltmat found herself smiling at the memory, in spite of how she felt.

They'd been friends ever since that night. For the next two or so years, they travelled together as often as they could- some nights one or more them might have been able to find a shelter they could stay at, or they'd get separated in scuffles with other vagrants or outrunning cops, but they always found each other- even when none of them had phones for this reason or that. They were both easy to get along with- Wiija was into music, and she and Siltmat often talked about forming a duo together, taking the clubs by storm; meanwhile Doku was into fashion, and they and Siltmat could spend ages window shopping, dreaming of owning all the clothes they looked at. That they were all 18-to-19 at the time made it easier to get on, likewise that they all came from similar circumstances; Doku actually ran away from home to get away from their overly controlling parents, whereas Wiija had left home in search of work to help her family out. Their stories largely matched Silt's from there, though Wiija had only been homeless for a couple of months when Siltmat first met her. Doku, on the other hand, had been homeless since they were 15. Even now, Siltmat shivers thinking about what they both must have been through.

A funny thing happens when you spend a lot of time with people that you face a lot of hardship with- people you take turns sleeping in shift with, people you cover for when shoplifting, people whom you defend (and whom defend you) from people with ill intent, people you huddle close to when the nights are long and cold and you need to stay warm or risk death; you grow close to them.

Very close.

Siltmat wanted to chide herself for blushing as the memories rushed back. She's loved a great many people. She loves many people still, even. She knows love in all the forms it takes, from the platonic to the romantic. None had ever felt exactly like what she felt for Wiija and Doku, not in quantity or importance but in specifics. Again; you don't go through all that they did together and not feel a special connection.

They had such big dreams. They were going to claw their way out of the hell they were in together and build the brightest of futures for themselves. And they'd gotten so far- a permanent place to stay and gainful employment was in reach for all of them.

Then, they just... disappeared.

Siltmat still doesn't really know what happened. It was a typical night at the gates of hell- another punk ass gang accusing the three of stepping on their turf that turned into a bust up. It got a bit out of control- maybe the cops were called, she can't remember. But she definitely called out to the two and told them where to meet her later as they scattered, and they answered.

But they never showed. She waited for days. She nearly starved herself, nearly froze waiting for them. They never came.

Time marched on. She asked around at every shelter- nobody had seen them. She swallowed her pride and hit up every precinct in the city- the police hadn't seen or heard anything either. She got her shitty job, she got her shitty apartment, she saved up for some shitty decks and a laptop, she got her first set at a shitty club, then another, then a less shitty club, then an even less shitty club, then she cut her first record, she moved somewhere nicer, the clubs started to become quite nice, she made all the tracks she and Wiija said they would, she cut more singles, she did more sets, the pay got better, she bought all the clothes she and Doku daydreamed about, people knew her name, people wanted her to play at their venues or release her music, she moved somewhere even nicer, the pay got even better, she was a headliner, her name was up in lights-

She made it. She crawled out of hell. She survived.

Alone.

Siltmat choked back a sob, back in the room as the memories faded; her face was soaked with tears. Her lips trembled as she looked away from the photo, barely whispering out a “Sorry...” with a hoarse voice. “I'm so, so sorry.” There was so much more she wanted to say, but couldn't; she just kept saying 'sorry' between sobs and hiccups. Gods, was she on fucking autopilot?

'Gods, are you on fucking autopilot?'.

Siltmats hearts stopped.

That was Doku's voice.

She looked around her bedroom frantically, seeing nothing. “What's...?”

'You've said that word so much, any meaning it carried has gone.'

Wiija's voice now.

Siltmat drew her legs in, fear bubbling up in her stomach. “You... you can't-”

'Not that your sorries ever amounted to much, anyway.' Doku sighed, sounding exhausted and disappointed.

'They certainly didn't save us.' Wiija droned, her tone dripping with bile.

Their voices were louder.

Clearer

Closer.

Siltmat looked at the photo on the inside of her closet, instinctively, and let out a small whimper; Wiija and Doku's faces had twisted into grimaces, staring down at her with hate filled eyes. Her younger self was on the ground behind them, prone.

“I tried to find you...!” Siltmat choked, hugging her knees. She felt so small. “I tried so damn hard-”

A long, raspy breath reverberated right beside her eardrum.

'Not hard enough.'

Siltmat's head snapped around.

Wiija and Doku sat at the foot of her bed, glaring at her.

Wiija's guts were hanging out of a nasty gash in her stomach. Half of Doku's head had been caved in.

Though the two appeared opaque, as if they weren't really there, the blood and ink that leaked from their wounds- congealed and coagulated- very much was, as it hit Siltmat's bedroom floor with sickening plapping sounds.

Siltmat gagged, tears falling fresh down her face, as a scream caught in her throat. 'What... what happened to y-you?!'

Doku shrugged, sadly, before looking away with their one remaining eye. 'Don't know. It's hard to remember how you die.'

'But it hurt.' Wiija said, eyes narrowing. 'It hurt a lot.'

Siltmat brought her hands up to her face, letting out a pained cry, instinctively curling up in the chair again. She was terrified. She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, but instead she just sat there, crying. “I-i-i-i'm suh, sor, I'm s-s-sor-”

Before she could finish, the two of them stood up, and began walking towards her.

Siltmat tried to get up, but couldn't. There was no feeling in her arms or legs- nothing was holding her, she wasn't restrained, but her body would not cooperate. All she could do was shrink further into herself.

“I waited for you...” She started, her voice even hoarser but her tone even. “I waited so long... I never stopped looking... I never stopped asking... I never gave up on you...!”

'We both know that's not true, don't we?' Wiija said, a vicious scowl spreading across her face. It was all she needed to say.

'But that's ok.' Doku said, voice barely above a whisper, their expression sad and forlorn. 'After all your waiting, all your looking, all your asking... even after you gave up... we're back.'

'And we'll be with you.' Wiija spat, scowl twisting into a cruel smirk. 'Always.'

Before Siltmat could react, the two of them shot an arm each out at her- Wiija's pierced Siltmat's chest, Doku's jammed into her head. She felt their respective fingertips grip tightly onto her hearts and her brain.

Visions of blood and violence shot through her mind. Bricks coming down on her head, guts sliced open with a pen-knife.

A terror unlike any other filled her chest- the instinctual sense that she was dying permeating her every emotion.

The physical pain was unlike anything she had ever felt. The emotional torment was almost palpable.

As all these images filled her head, as the terrible feelings dominated her senses, she could see Wiija and Doku staring down at her, the former once again scowling in fury and the latter looking almost apologetic.

Finally,

after everything,

Siltmat screamed.

She was in her bad, face and sheets soaked with sweat and tears, room pitch black aside from the moonlight pouring in.

No Wiija.

No Doku.

Just her.

In her lavish apartment,

in her single bed,

alone.

-

“Whoaaaaa! Guys, check it out!”

Siltmat, Pias, and Brassic all turned their heads as Skint bounded over to a sign outside an extremely dilapidated house- a very old and weirdly suburban looking residence nestled between two high rises, in a very conspicuous manner.

“Thinking of expanding your real estate portfolio, darling?” Brassic said with a chuckle, as he strode over to his boyfriend, the two girls in tow behind him, as he looked derisively at the house. “I know we're hardly rich, but I think we can do better than this.”

“Oh har har.” Skint said, rolling his eyes. “No, dude, look- its a haunted house! A real one! The sign says they do tours and seances with guaranteed sightings!”

Pias' eyes lit up. “Really???” She hadn't noticed Siltmat's grip on her hand tighten slightly.

Brassic grimaced “Oh for gods sake.”

“What?” Skint said, smirking. “You scared, bro?”

“Hardly.” Brassic said, waving his hand. “You can't be scared of things that don't exist.”

Skint scoffed. “S'pretty closed minded of you, babe.”

Brassic rolled his eyes. “I suppose you're a believer, then?”

“Totally!” Skint said, crossing his arms behind his head. “Like, there's more in heaven and on earth then science has answers for, y'know? The infinite cosmos 'n shit.”

“You've been spending too much time with Warp.” Brassic sighed.

“I don't know...” Pias said, gazing at the house quizzically “I saw some very strange things down in the domes. They were originally human habitations, you know; meant to protect them from the declining climate, but it didn't take.”

“See?” Skint said smugly, nodding. “That's more like it.”

“If they were built by humans, they were thousands of years old.” Brassic said, exasperated beyond measure. “Any weird thing you saw or heard was probably something breaking. I've heard stories from the agents about the conditions down there.”

Pias shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. It's not that far-fetched for the spirits of dead humans to still be hanging around, is it?”

Brassic's deadpan expression said 'yes, it is' better then the words themselves ever could.

“Well, if you're so sure its bogus, you won't mind if we book a tour and a séance.” Skint said, with a mischievous grin. “'Cus then nothing'll happen, right? Nothin' to be scared of, yeah?”

Brassic smirked back. “Alright.”

Skint wasn't expecting that, faltering slightly. “Uh... alright?”

“Yeah. Then maybe you'll realise how childish you're being.” Brassics smirk turned equally as cheeky as Skints was. “Or are you scared?”

“N-no way, man!” Skint said, trying to save face. “In fact, lets make this interestin'- ten Gs says a ghost shows up and possesses your ass!”

“Heh.” Brassic chuckled, winking. “Twenty Gs says nothing happens, but you freak out anyway.”

“Deal!”

“You want in on this, ladies?” Brassic said, turning around to face Pias and Siltmat. “Could be quite lucrative.”

Pias smiled. “Sure! It sounds like fun~ We're good to tag in, right DJ?”

As Pias turned to look Siltmat, she saw the other Octoling was looking down at the ground, lost in thought and with a severe expression on her face.

“Yo, Earth to Silt!” Skint called out.

“You've been pretty quiet over there, cher.” Brassic said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Silty...?” Pias said, smile falling, as she squeezed Siltmats hand.

Siltmat jerked slightly, looking back up at the gang, a too-wide smile on her face. “Sorry, I was away with the anemones” She chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head with her free hand as she turned to face Pias. “What'd you say hon?”

“Um... are we gonna join the boys on the ghost tour?”

Siltmat's smile faltered, ever so slightly. “Uhhhh, I'm... uh, no, I'm good. I got a thing about ghosts.”

Brassic frowned. “Am I the only sane one here?”

“I-i-i don't necessarily believe in 'em!” Siltmat said, pulling her hand free of Pias' and waving both awkwardly, unconvincing smile on her face. “But if they are real, and they're bad news, I can't, like, punch 'em, y'know? Haha!” She paused, laughing awkwardly, before clearing her throat. “Um, but if you wanna go, Pi, you can! Don't drop out on my account!”

“Um... ok.” Pias said, unsure, before turning to the boys. “Uh, I guess it's... just me joining you, then.”

“Cool, cool.” Siltmat said, nodding. “You got the number, Skint? Ok, great,” she said, walking off before Skint could even answer. “C'mon, we don't wanna miss happy hour!”

The trio watched her walking away, Skint and Brassic exchanging confused glances. Pias, on the other hand, looked unnerved.

She might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she knows when Siltmat's lying.

[rederiswrites]

I just wanted to write something, so I wrote a little world-building scene from what I think of as my "Truck Stop" universe, a very blue-collar spacefaring universe, inspired in part by that feeling you get from big truck stops--liminal, like airports, but with more grit. Less "duty free" more "quarter drop machine". Less New Adventures, more grim determination, grabbing for humanity in the small moments.

____

"Come on. Let's go shopping!"

"Are you for real? We're out of here as soon as the tank's full. By the time we go through decon and check, we'll have what?" Haruto squinted at the oven clock. "Fifty minutes?"

"We could pay for another hour."

"We could--! Cuan! You want to spend 85 cred for another hour at the dock so we can go shopping?! The fuck you wanna buy so bad?"

"I mean, you could use a shirt that's not falling off your shoulders. I wanna buy some real fruit. But mostly just like...don't you miss ceilings more than 7 feet high?"

"Fucking surfacer. You know I don't."

"Still need a shirt though." Cuan grinned. "Fucking spacer." Elsewhere, the insults might hold real venom, but not between these two.

Haruto glanced down at his arm, at the series of irregular holes showing up along the worn side of the shirt seam. He sighed.

Cuan's grin widened. "Oy, Chris!" he bellowed. Haruto winced.

"What?" The female voice came through the decking tinny and distant.

"Wanna go portside for an hour?"

There was a series of sharp metallic clanks, as of something being knocked over.

"Fuck yeah!"

Haruto mentally tallied their bank accounts and pending contracts, sighed, and brought up his HUD to pay for an extra hour.

[myreputatioooon]

and also consider the fact ur decon / recon / subversive art might become someone gateway into whatever the fuck your de/re-constructing or subverting and whatnot

Like duh ur making your w/e-constructive or subversive writing because you've familiarized with the genre and want to give commentary on it

And you well likely assume that everybody checking out your superhero deconstruction is just as familiar with DC or Marvel or Invincible or BNHA as much as you are but—

There's still that audience who's gateway into whatever your making if going to be your craft

Like— Cultivation Nerd according to some readers reconstructs some Xianxia tropes, and I wouldn't know the accuracy of their claims due to the fact I've only read like three others of it's genre

(specifically another webnovel also pissing on what are likely cliches of the genre and two mc xovers which also lampshades and one was crack so my point still stands)

It wasn't my gateway into Xianxia but the point still stands that people unfamiliar with the genre you're commenting on w/ you art and going to gateway themselves through your writing

So if your like me and care about how others will read or understand your work, you gotta write with those two audiences in mind

The audience who knows fuck all about what you're commenting or playing with, so ya gotta lay the groundwork so they can get caught up to speed (like how Isekai Maid explains how typical it is for protags of Otome Isekai to enact workplace abuse)

The audience who on the same page as you and thus gets the experience you intended from ur writing

And audience members in-between get covered by the fact you already compensated for both

Hey, hey, this could come with the bonus of audience members who previously knew fuck all delving deeper into the genre(s) and coming back to their gateway and gaining a whole new perspective they can appreciate in a way they couldn't before

[poisonviolet-author]

Upcoming Projects!

Here is all of the novels I have currently in the works OR that I am planning(thinking out) to write soon!

Let me know what you all think of these ideas!

Promising Life ( Book Two in the Promising Recovery series! )

Unnamed: Lesbian Time Loop romance. About a Nun and Traveling Doctor.

Unnamed: Re-write of my old Gay Serial Killer dark romance. Vigilante Killer finds an Abused man and wants to kill his abuser.

Unnamed: Mafia Romance idea not really fleshed out.

Promising _______ ( Book three in the Promising Recovery series )

To further elaborate on the stories!

1) This is book two, takes place immediately after book one(Promising Recovery) ends. Following the boys, Axel & Ryker’s, new life together and to new romance between them will (maybe👀) happen if Axel finally will allow himself to be with Ryker. Will they finally put a label on their relationship? Will they get intimate? Read to find out! Hopefully will be published in Autumn of 2025!

2) So basically I had this idea while thinking about the “I’d let the world burn for you” trope types. The setting is a small town set in an AU of mine, maybe fantasy-maybe 16-1700s. Haven’t decided. And the main character is a Nun who was orphaned to the church years ago as a baby. She was raised within the church by the fathers, sisters, and decons. Now in her mid-twenties she’s ready to become a full fledged Nun and devote herself to the church and God. Only have a year left before she’s officially made a Nun, a Traveling (female) Doctor appears in town. She assists people where she can before making it to the church to offer help to the sick there. That when she meets our Nun. The become close and the Doctor falls in love with her. Over the course of that year they both end up revealing they have feelings for each other, and the Nun decides she wants to run away with the Doctor. But then something happens and the Nun is killed. As the Doctor holds her body sobbing she promises she will avenge her no matter what before burning the church down to the ground. Then time resets to the beginning of the year, and the Doctor is the only person aware of the loop starting. She goes through countless loops and it always ends the same, the Nun dying in some horrific way and her unable to prevent it. In rage at the end of every loop she burns the church down, the town down, she kills the people within the church. Why? She suspects she isn’t the only one aware of the loop and that someone within this town is the reason why the Nun keeps dying. We follow her in the story as she tries to figure out who the person is while also trying to maintain her sanity as she lives through the same year again and again.

3) Alright this was a novel I wrote IN HIGHSCHOOL. It was awful to say the least, and just like Promising Recovery, I planned on rewriting it as a whole. The two characters (placeholder names) Aiden and Micha live in my own AU of early 2000s Ireland. Aiden grew up with an abusive mother and a meek father. Mostly being raised by his paternal grandfather due to his parents neglect. His grandfather has a secret though, one that he’s only told Aiden. He is a serial killer who only goes after the monsters of their city. Protecting people where the police won’t. Most of the locals see him as a hero and the police have up finding him decades ago because honestly, he was cleaning up the trash. But he taught Aiden is lifestyle and his way of thinking, grooming him into the perfect descendant to take over his job once he’s gone. His grandfather passes and the day after the funeral Aiden begins his job of cleaning up the city. He stalks out the monsters for months before he kills them, wanting to gather enough evidence to be sure he was getting rid of the right people. And leaving the evidence of their wrong doings at the scene of the murder for police to find. One day he stumbles upon a man and his son. The sheriff and his timid early twenties son, Micha. Micha’s mother died when he was a child under mysterious circumstances and Aiden wants to find out what actually happened, suspecting the Sheriff had a hand in it. During all of this Aiden has been hiding out in an abandoned asylum’s basement. It’s where he lives and keeps all of his tools for finding monsters. One day after coming back from stalking out the sheriff, Aiden notices he’s being followed but isn’t sure by who. He gets into the building and hides, until Micha appears in the room. 👀 That’ll have to be more fleshed out! But I’m in the process of re-plotting it all.

4) I don’t really have a plan for this one. One of my beta readers/friends is a mafia romance story lover and has been begging me to write one. So I’ll have to figure this one out later on 😅

5) Book 3 in the Promising Recovery series! Not revealing the title buuutttt, the boys will be spicy in this one. Don’t want to spoil too much.

Let me know what you all think about these! Would you read them??

[toxictoad]

Thanks for the tag @honeybee-bard ily <3

Last Song: I've been listening to a lot of Get Scared lately but the last song I listened to was Monster from Adventure Time Distant Lands

Currently Reading: by the skin of your teeth It's a Gravity Falls fic and I am unwell about it. Brother angst my beloved <3

Also I'm reading the complete works of HP Lovecraft. He was a racist cunt but he wrote some bangers tbh

Currently Watching: Gravity Falls because hyperfixation

Currently Craving: I want a mcdonalds hashbrown so fucking bad rn you would not believe

Coffee or Tea: Tea. I'm a tea snob. My electric kettle is my baby

A Hobby You Would Like to Try: I would love to try knitting but I don't have the disposable income, time, or patience for it lol

An AU You're Working On/Thought of: I had this one idea for a Gravity Falls AU where Euclydia Bill, Canon-era Bill, and Decon (My AU) Bill all get zapped into season 2 after Ford comes out of the portal. It's mostly just self indulgent hurt/comfort but I might write it who knows

No-pressure tags: @gio-dude @beetlekermit @ellowynthenotking and @bluryy-face0