#i am a late writer

[journey-to-the-attic]

uh oh

[szynkaaa]

Zhu Bajie: do you exercise Travel Companion: I like to run away from my problems and feelings

The dialogue is based off a scene from Doctor Who. I don't think that my OC would be going with Zhu Bajie and the Destined One into the rock for the final battle (probably cause she is not able to enter) so she has to sit outside and wait anxiously for them to return.

She is happy to see them return but then also immediately notices how the Destined One's whole demeanour and aura changed. She knew that this point was going to happen where he inherits everything and becomes the new Monkey King, but I also think that she has a hard time wrapping her head around the concept of reincarnation and struggles with accepting it.

So yeah, I imagine the moment after new Sun Wukong comes out of the rock, it's an angsty moment. He just wants to see his best friend and tell her what happened, and now that he is finally "whole" again be able to propely have conversations with her and ask her about all the weird things she says and does, but instead she looks at him like she is very unsure of everything.

Sun Wukong doesn't really have the temper imo or at least here things get a bit heated and he snaps and well, she does what she is best at in situations like this: fucking book it :)))))

Obviously SWK wants to chase after her but Zhu Bajie helds him back and says "ayo kiddo give the lassie some time to process everything, she will come around" he doesn't want to but he knows that is what she needs atm.

Where is Travel Companion hiding meanwhile? In the Zodiac village, the Yin Tiger offered her a spare bedroom, and in exchange she helps around, with the crops, bringing materials back and forth and also has some good times drinking and sharing stories with the villager. Maybe also crying about her woes, and I think that the villager sharing their stories about SWK and explain more about his backstory and stuff helps the her to come around more.

also SWK knows she is there and comes by every day to get his harvest and the free medicing from your local meth dealer Xu Dog. She is hiding in Yin Tiger's lil blacksmith hut everytime he is visiting, but she knows that he knows that she knows that he is there.

And then one day when he is visting Yin Tiger, SWK sighs and goes all "hey bud can you pass this message to Travel Companion," and inserts some very sweet and sappy stuff, knowing that she is there and can hear him. Just as he is about to leave she decides to come out of her hiding spot and go "Hey... let's go talk somewhere more private".

SWK is not showing any emotions but you can tell by the flicker of his tail that he is relieved to see her. Bit worried about the dark eye circle and how not well-rested she looks like, but he will make sure to fix that soon.

[azen13]

Just read the Sunday short from the pawnshop and it was indeed everything I had hoped for!! 12/10, very tasty, would absolutely consume again. Stellaron Hunter Sunday is such a power trip. I hope darling has a good time ♡ I can't help but feel that while Sunday would let darling play video games with Silver Wolf and interact with Firefly, he would be wary about letting darling interact with Kafka or Blade...

CW: Yandere Themes, Spoilers for Penacony's Story Quest

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Oh, absolutely. Best believe that in the first few weeks after reuniting with you, Sunday barely lets you out of his grasp. He'll run his hands through your hair and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, his wings puffing up whenever one of the other Stellaron Hunters so much as comes near you.

I definitely agree that out of all of them, Blade is the one he tries to keep you away from the most. Ominous aura, brooding personality, mysterious past? Someone so gentle and pure as you cannot be around someone so unstable and amoral.

Kafka is 50/50. As long as she keeps her teasing and slyness at hand, Sunday is alright with you having some interactions with her. But the moment she starts flustering you and asking too many questions, Sunday is quick to pull you back in his arms, making some quick excuse as to why the two of you must leave.

Firefly I'm conflicted about. From what we saw in the story question (to the best of my knowledge at least), her views directly oppose Sunday's. Because of this, I want to believe that Sunday would actually try to keep you away from Firefly at all costs because of what she might inspire you to do. One spark can start a blaze, after all.

And then there's Silver Wolf. I think after a while, Sunday would likely be alright with you interacting with her. When he watches you playing video games, he'll try to understand what the two of you are playing, though his comprehension varies. Fighter games? When Silver Wolf hands him a controller, his character just flails around for a bit, before either you or Silver Wolf KO him. But give him a sandbox game, and he'll be making palaces and paradises just for you. The affection he shows as you all play is so glaringly obvious that eventually, Silver Wolf leaves.

[raineandsky]

#137

tw: mentions of death

“You might consider yourself lucky, [Hero],” the supervillain snaps coolly, “being here, still alive. You are only alive because I let you—because you are much more fun to slowly squeeze the life from, until you’re begging me to end it all, and we will have plenty of time for that.”

With one last cold glare and a swish of his coat, the supervillain leaves the hero in the dungeon. The hero would be inclined to call it a prison, or even a cage, but the walls are damp and there’s bloodied chains sitting in one corner, so in their mind this counts very much as a dungeon.

They settle against the cool stone as comfortably as they can manage, which frankly isn’t comfortable at all. They close their eyes, a sigh escaping their lips. They’re prepared to face whatever agonies are doubtlessly ready for them ahead. Waiting for said agonies will be boring, that’s all.

“You too, huh?”

The hero opens their eyes to glance across the dungeon, to the other side of the darkness. They can only just make out the outline of a figure sulking in the other corner, but they recognise the voice all the same.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the hero says with a short laugh. ���What did you do?”

The villain practically growls. “I’m not entertaining you.”

“It’s not entertainment; I’m just curious.”

There’s a second of silence, and the hero thinks they might get an answer before the villain simply says, “You first.”

“Fucked up.” The hero shrugs, though they can’t tell if the villain can see it or not. “Did something not particularly heroic.”

The villain shifts a little, chains clanking together with the movement. “Huh.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I figured it must be something bad.” The villain makes a noise that might be a laugh or a scoff. “[Supervillain] doesn’t get super serious with just anyone.”

“Must’ve been pretty serious for you to end up down here, then,” the hero comments with a huff.

The villain raises an hand to their face, and the hero gets a glimpse of the line of chain trailing from their wrist.

“Oh, it’s whatever. I also fucked up. Did something…” The villain grapples for a word awkwardly. “Not villainous.”

The hero barks a laugh that seems to make the villain jump, if the sudden clank of metal is anything to go by, but they can’t help it. A newfound anti-hero and a good-hearted villain sharing a supervillain’s dungeon. What a pair they make.

“You’ve peaked my curiosity,” the hero says brightly. “Please, continue.”

Like a broken record, “You first.”

“Ah, y’know, the usual.” The hero doesn’t really want to say it out loud. “I, uh… I killed someone.”

“Oh.” The silence following that is uncomfortably long, until, thankfully, the villain adds, “Yeah, you’re right, that’s not very heroic.”

The hero nods, though they’re not sure if the villain can see it. “I didn’t mean to. It was another villain. I don’t know who—they had red hair and glasses.”

“Oh,” the villain repeats, a little more strained this time. “Yeah, that’ll do it. They’re one of [Supervillain]’s favourites. Or were, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Eh.” The villain waves a hand at them nonchalantly. “I didn’t really like them, honestly. They were always showing me up in front of [Supervillain], but I think that’s why he liked them. I wasn’t as willing to throw my comrades under the bus for attention.”

They clear their throat awkwardly, and the hero takes the hint. “What about you, then?” they ask shortly. “What did you do?”

The villain sighs, the puff of warm air catching in the one strip of sun lighting the place. “Well, quite the opposite.” A cough of a laugh jolts them slightly, like they weren’t expecting it. “I stopped [Supervillain] from killing someone, and they got away.”

The hero sits on that for a moment. “That’s very noble of you,” they offer eventually.

“Oh, don’t you start.” The villain tsks in annoyance. “I already have [Supervillain] calling me soft for it.”

“I can’t blame him. I mean… are we sure I’m the hero and you’re the villain here?”

The villain laughs like the idea is ludicrous, and the hero laughs too because it is, but then a silence falls over them and the hero knows that they’re both thinking the same thing.

“You know,” the villain starts slowly, “I’ve never really liked being here.”

The hero snorts humorously. “I can’t say I’m a big fan of grotty dungeons either.”

“Not here, you moron,” the villain snaps. “I mean here, with the villains. As one of them.”

“Oh, cheers to that. The agency has too many rules.”

“This hellhole doesn’t have enough.”

“Well,” the hero says brightly, “I’m sensing something big is happening here.”

The villain hums thoughtfully. “Can we maybe talk about it outside of the dank dungeon?”

“Oh, I thought you’d never ask.” The hero’s mind is already running through plans, scenarios, ways of escape. It’s always easier with a teammate, anyway. “Let’s get the hell out of here and start our new lives.”

[mokadevs]

day 19: partners-in-crime

[la-lune-chante]

x men 97 season two better be logan centric and morph and logan should kiss as a treat because what the fuck was that

[thursdaysyme]

another criminally wrong developmental milestone for the books, this time a fic said a 4yo couldn’t talk

[mithrilhearts]

RESPECT FANFIC AUTHORS.

Let them write what they want to write and don't harass them because it's not exactly what YOU want to see. Writers don't owe anyone anything. We do this for fun (and for free), and to constantly see readers harassing authors about their works is making me so angry.

To see readers bullying writers into going back to writing something they were taking a break from to pursue other stories/aspirations? TERRIBLE. Support the writers with whatever they are writing if you love them that much.

Let them know how much you appreciate their FREE hard work!

We are not here to cater to anyone but ourselves - yes, we share our stories with people to build a conversation about the things we all love, but ultimately we create things for ourselves.

The bullying and harassment of writers needs to stop, or the writing stops. Be appreciative, be respectful, and show the authors love instead of tearing them down for other things they enjoy.

[utilitycaster]

if a ship has under 10 fics and someone's read every single one they are valid. If it has under 50 fics and someone's read every single one it's a little intense but also pretty valid. when people are like "THIS SHIP HAS 2000 FICS AND I'VE READ EVERY SINGLE ONE" you KNOW you are dealing with someone with zero standards and whose comprehension of the characters is mostly a vague amalgam/projection of the ghosts of blorbos past. Which is like, a valid way to engage if that's what makes you happy, but you do not want to read their meta.

[himboextraordinaire]

I love domestic/fluffy Byler so much, but what I really want is for them to be a mess.

Everything about their relationship with the involvement of the upside down and Eleven is a mess. Will is carelessly lying to Mike about El and his painting, Mike is not communicating and was being particularly distant to Will for virtually no reason on his birthday (which btw I totally don’t buy it that the Duffers and the writers room just “forgot” Will’s birthday when they remembered Will’s favorite candy just so they can have it as a silly little easter egg in like two scenes). Everything about it that has been building up to this point is just a huge pile up at this point.

They’re going to likely be with each other for most of season 5 because of the promise that they made to each other at the end of season 4 (and the BTS photos but yknow), which gives time for a lot to happen. Will and Mike are not perfect people, and it’s clear that their friendship isn’t either. The confession isn’t going to be light and fun. That pileup is going to collapse under it’s own weight and it will not be pretty at all. It’s going to be a mess, it’s going to hurt, and I am HERE FOR IT.

[psychomusic]

i don't understand when people criticize george lucas. he gave us ten thousand clones of TEMUERA MORRISON

[gatodefresa]

Oh yeah sharing food, my favorite love language

[wardensantoineandevka]

genuinely SO demoralizing to actually check the ages of fairly middle achieving people in fields I want to work in, like not even the major household name types, like, people who are fairly successful, and learning so many of them are +/-3 years of my own age and they got in three or four years ago is just...

I know we all say that one's age isn't ACTUALLY a road block for anything and you can be successful or break into anything at any age, but y'know, still, it's a fact that is incredibly demoralizing and everything seems impossible all the time

yes, yes, i know checking these facts and dwelling on it is NOT helpful, but also y'know, I already know too much of the state of the industries so

[raineandsky]

#133

Fourteen years ago, the hero—barely twelve years old and several years from considering being a hero—knocked on their neighbour’s door with their basket in hand and the smile of a kid about to eat their weight in sweets on their face.

The door was barely open before the hero was shouting, “Trick or treat!”

“Oh!” their neighbour exclaimed as she opened the door. “What’re you dressed as, hon?”

The hero pouted dramatically. This was the question they’d been answering all night—how could no one see it? “I’m [Superhero].”

Their neighbour laughed and produced a bowl of sweets, the wrappers glittering like gold under the porch light. “Of course you are! Well, take your pick, [Superhero].”

The temptation to dig their entire hand into that delicious ocean of chocolate was almost irresistible. The hero swiped the top sweet to push that temptation down, not even looking at what it was before dropping it into their own basket. “Thanks!”

Their neighbour said her goodbyes as the hero hopped back down onto the path, letting themself out the gate and heading for the next house.

A flicker of white moved in the bushes next to the hero. Their gaze snapped to the side, scanning through the leaves for the culprit. Then, like a mist of horror and death, a ghost drifted straight through the bushes towards them.

The hero yelped, shaking several sweets from their basket as they leapt back. It hovered just in front of them, the sheet over its head floating slightly, eye-holes cut in to show the hero their distant gaze.

A real, actual ghost. Fear gripped their throat and glued their feet to the ground. No, think—what would the superhero do?

They cleared their throat, putting on the bravest face they could, and said, “Nice costume.”

The ghost didn’t respond. It simply stared at them with dead, far-off eyes. An actor, the hero decided. It’s not real. Just someone that’s really embodying the spirit of Halloween.

They tried a smile that probably looked more pained than they’d hoped. “Super realistic,” they continued into the quiet. “Did you make it yourself?”

The hero reached out to run a hand over the bottom of the ghost’s sheet, only to find their fingers phased straight through it. They paused for a moment, staring wide-eyed at their hand passing right through this supposedly solid object, before hurriedly pulling it back.

“Whoa,” the hero whispered. “Are… are you, like… dead?”

The ghost said nothing. It only continued to stare at them. The sheet floated around them like the hero hadn’t ever disturbed it.

“Um. Okay.” The hero shuffled nervously, glancing at their destination down the street. “Very cool. See you ‘round, anyway.”

They casually wandered to the next house along. They glanced over their shoulder at the gate and, seeing that the ghost was gone, swiftly abandoned their sweet hunt and ran all the way home.

-

“On Clarence Street?” the hero asks indignantly. “Fourteen years ago? That was you?”

The villain laughs brightly from where the hero has hastily tied them to a desk chair. “And you were the one dressed like [Superhero]? The only kid I couldn’t scare the chocolate out of? Oh, this rivalry was destined.”

The hero can feel their face scrunching up in annoyance. The whole process of seeing a ghost, researching the paranormal, feeling bad that someone was lingering after death, wanting to shape a world people could leave peacefully, taking on heroism in their career. All their life decisions had sprouted from that one moment when they were twelve, and it was the villain’s goddamn fault.

The hero takes a step back to resist the urge to punch them. “How’d you do it?”

“Projector.” The villain looks particularly proud, like they’re explaining how their most recent invention works. “It was one of the first real evil things I planned myself. I think it was the start of my career, that night.”

The hero scowls. “Makes two of us.”

“Be honest,” the villain starts with a grin, “did I getcha?”

The scowl only deepens. The hero doesn’t like the truth, but they’re not a liar. “A bit.”

Another laugh, entirely too proud of the stunt they pulled off over a decade ago. “Happy Halloween, [Superhero].”

[lesbianherald]

i know you're excited for your next fics, but do you ever feel pressured to live up to expectations? i hope not but I can imagine after coming home that might be hard.

yes. FKHJDSLFKJ HUGE YES. big yes. I'm actually a really flighty person. And that little brain worm keeps telling me I could just. leave if things get rough. so uh. yeah. (edit, realizing how rambly I get so slapping on a read more)

at the end of the day, I'm just a guy, and there's definitely a worry of letting people down, through either not writing "as well" or through making some kind of unintentional mistake. It has also been made clear to me that I will not and cannot cater to everyone's wants/desires/preferences because that would be impossible. something I have always known logically, but have yet to truly grapple with emotionally until now. (this is good for me as an artist!)

this is everything from what other characters I include, what character headcanons I want cater to, how comparable I make things to my past things, what version of the characters I'm borrowing from, fucking, chapter length, sex positions (this I don't listen to), dynamics, who fucking kisses who first like the list can go on and on LMAO.

It's really hard (and sometimes impossible) to keep the little demon in my head that says "ohh... people won't like this." OUT.

but i also feel this is such an incredibly invaluable feeling to learn how to deal with if I want to write professionally, set in a low stakes environment where I am anonymous and writing fic. (fanfic does have some unique pressures - whether or not I should continue to interpret certain characters closer to canon than what I sometimes feel is a misguided fanon, what is and is not OOC, how do adapt the pre-existing story into an au, the fact that this is even more of a solo act - no team of paid professional editors and sensitivity readers but instead me alone in my room at 3am and a couple unpaid strangers online... etc.)

I do let myself feel the feelings but it helps to look on the bright side too that I've been given an opportunity here so I try not to sweat it too much/complain.

I will do myself a huge favor and turn Anons off in the couple of days following every post and just try to continue to do my own thing.

[patolemus]

ao3 used to have real dead doves. we used to be a proper country.