#current fic project

[thatartiststudios]

WIP Wednesday

All The Way Home | Rayllum x Hadestown AU

Chapter 1: All I've Ever Known

(Thx to @a-very-sparkly-nerd for the insp!)

Rayla stood at the edge of the dock, watching as Callum inspected the boat he’d chartered for their journey home. It wasn’t luxurious by any means; Scumport’s gritty reality loomed over them, casting shadows that clung to the edges of the rickety vessel. Still, it was leagues better than the hellish ride she had endured before, and for that, she felt a flicker of gratitude.

Callum was meticulous as he counted out the gold, his fingers brushing against the coins with a purpose. “Half now,” he instructed the captain, his tone firm but steady, “and the other half when we reach Katolis. If anything happens to her during the trip…” His voice trailed off, the implication hanging in the salty air.

Rayla’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him spill gold into the captain’s hands. She hadn’t seen that much wealth in weeks—months, really. The stark contrast made her head spin, the weight of his generosity both comforting and suffocating. A part of her still felt like she didn’t deserve any of it, like she was still tethered to the darkness that had threatened to consume her.

He returned to her side, his arm wrapping around her shoulders like a shield against the world. “Ready?” he asked, his voice steady and sure, firm against her. At her side, as always.

[owl-bones]

one of the greatest temptations i feel is to write a mafia au nightmare x reader fic

but i am held back by the sheer number of scenarios i've developed in my mind about that and which i would want to commit to

[f0rgetf0rgetting]

my first time doing a ship chart dont throw tomatoes at me guysh. im elaborating on the tags because im embarrassed. user f0rgetf0rgetting extreme yap session

i also got too passionate on the madoka magica one and ended up doodling this

[chiropteracupola]

He’s red and he’s white and he’s green and he’s grey / My bonny young dragon, come hither away...

Keith Windham and Nuntius, out of Luzula's stunning Flight of the Heron/Temeraire crossover fic 'The Flight of Dragons.'

[scissorcraft]

post-loop siffrin suffers from chronic migraines and chronic pain and chronic nightmares and so much flared up mental illness and he has moments where he lashes out or gets incredibly scared or overwhelmed and he feels horrible for it because everything is supposed to be good and healthy and happy now because he won! he won! he’s free and he has his family now but he’s so scarred and it’ll never truly heal and they’ll never truly be how they used to be and they’ve changed for the worse

but their family is still there for him, and they still love him, and help him where they can, and it’ll never be the perfect ending but it’s His perfect ending and even through his newly developed disabilities and his newly aggitated mental illness he still finds happiness because they love him and he loves them and everything can be okay even if it’s not perfect

[lesbianangeldust]

huskerdust fic where angel has a flashback/ptsd moment during sex and husk helps him manage it (I am totally not projecting nor do I want to read this for my own mental wellbeing)

[astriiformes]

Was not intending for this dialogue to be comedic, actually, but now that I've written it I feel like it turned out funny in the same exact way the movies are funny.

[the-everqueen]

action items white people can consider to make fandom spaces more inclusive for bipoc:

rec/kudos/comment on fanworks made by poc

consider what roles characters of color take in your own work. do black and brown characters exist solely as emotional support for central white characters? are black and brown characters sidelined for white character arcs? do black and brown characters appear solely to Talk About Racism (aka be the Magical or moralizing force for a narrative)?

(consider: Not Doing That)

reflect on whose voices get centralized/prioritized in any given narrative

listen to poc who express discomfort/frustration/critique of the text or fanon without feeling the need to defend either (or recognize you don't need to insert yourself into some conversations)

conversations around racism in fan spaces almost always get derailed into debates about ships or The Literal Text, but in my experience some of the most alienating aspects of fandom are the subtle ways that white people signal us as "other," i.e. acting as though race and queerness are distinct categories (there are queer bipoc! we invented a lot of queer culture!), framing nonwhite characters as unrelatable or undesirable, and reproducing stereotypes in fanon narratives. these become exhausting to encounter, whether or not we're part of the larger fandom ecosystem, and because it's systemic, it becomes impossible to avoid. which means white people's escapism corner is another site that poc have to navigate very, very carefully.

[flowercrowngods]

When Eddie finds Steve lying on the living room floor, he’s not concerned at first. It’s what he does sometimes, and Eddie himself can appreciate a bit of floor time on occasion, too, but for Steve it’s sacred. So he smiles and sits down beside him, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers, a “Hey, pretty boy” already on his lips before he freezes.

Because Steve isn’t all relaxed like he usually is, with his mind just a few inches off to the side where everything is calm and fine and better. And when he finally meets Eddie’s eyes, they’re not glazed over but sharp. Sharp with something that cuts right through Eddie, because he’s seen this look before, and he knows just what to do.

“Stevie, baby, I’m right here. I’m gonna make a call, okay, I will be right back.” When Steve opens his mouth, Eddie just leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. He’s not sure how much invasion of space is allowed, but Steve is still holding his hand so that has to count for something, right? “Shh, don’t speak,” he whispers. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He tries not to kiss Steve like he’s about to break, or talk to him like something’s wrong, because nothing is wrong. Steve is not wrong for getting like this sometimes, it’s not his fault; it’s not something Eddie can’t handle. Steve doesn’t deserve to feel like he’s somehow wrong for getting into that headspace where words just won’t come out of his mouth and he needs to lie down and hope that will help.

Which, today it didn’t, apparently.

Eddie gets up with one last kiss to Steve’s hand and a reassuring smile, and goes to make a phone call. There’s only one person who can help Steve get out of his head, and Eddie doesn’t really understand it, nobody does, but they all know it.

“Hey, Joyce,” he sighs in relief when she answers the phone. “Is El home?”

“Eddie! Yes, she’s there, what… Steve?”

“Steve.”

Joyce sighs and Eddie knows she’s worried and wants to tell her not to be, it’s not fair to be worried, Steve hates when they worry, but. He’d be a hypocrite.

“You know you don’t have to ask, honey. Get over here, I’ll make some cocoa.”

With a smile, Eddie hangs up and goes back to Steve, crouching down beside him to stroke the hair out of his face. “Hey there again, pretty boy. I’m gonna drive over to Joyce’s, wanna tag along?”

What he really wants to say is, I’ll take care of you. Everything is gonna be just fine. But Steve doesn’t like the fuss. That kind of discussion is for another day, though. When Steve can actually get a word in.

That is how they find themselves in the Hopper-Byers household, Eddie holding Steve’s hand as the boy tries to make himself smaller than he is — like every time. Joyce doesn’t fuss, and Eddie knows just how much that takes, knows that Joyce is so much stronger than him in moments like this.

“Steve,” comes a small voice from the door to Eleven’s room, and Eddie finds the girl approaching them slowly. Beside him, Steve sways and Eddie tightens his grip for a second, brushing a kiss to Steve’s cheek before letting him go.

Eleven wraps her arms around Steve’s middle and the two of them just hold each other. They have a bond that none of them truly understand, one that Eddie knows even Robin is jealous of. But it makes sense, he figures. On some kind of deeply existential level, it does make sense for Eleven to be the one who can help Steve when he’s nonverbal like this.

Maybe because she doesn’t talk much. Maybe because around her he doesn’t feel like he has to be anyone or anything because it’s all the same to her. Or maybe there’s a special kind of magic in the way she will pull him onto the floor, their backs against the couch, his head on her shoulder and her fingers running through Steve’s hair.

They’ve been through something together. Maybe they go through something together every time they talk each other down without words — because in return, Steve does the same for her. It shouldn’t work, but it does.

It’s calm and quiet in the living room and Eddie shares a glance with Joyce before they step outside to give Steve and El some privacy.

“I hate seeing him like this,” Eddie admits finally. It’s hardly more than a whisper, a treacherous little truth that cuts into his heart every time this happens.

“I know,” Joyce says. “Me too.”

“I hate that I can’t help him.”

Oh the truths just keep coming. It’s that kind of moment.

“You’re helping him, honey. You are. But sometimes we need different people for different hurts. And that boy has more than all of us combined. Or… Well, not all of us.” And she’s looking through the window, watching El and Steve still wrapped around each other.

And it’s true. Eddie knows. Maybe that’s why he hates it so much. Steve’s nonverbal episodes are a stark reminder for all the pain he had to take upon himself. Alone. For years.

“Just love him through it,” Joyce continues. “Not despite it, not because it it. Just through it.”

“I am. I do. Don’t think I could stop even if he asked me to.”

She smiles and squeezes his hand. “Good. Now, join me on a run to the bakery? I think they’ll need something sweet when they’re back with us.”

With one last glance through the window, seeing Steve calm and quiet, Eddie bows and offers his arm to Joyce. “I’d be delighted to join you, lady Byers.”

It’ll be fine, he tells himself. They’ll be fine.

[puppetmaster13u]

So I got dragged back into Marvel fanfics. And might be writing one now. Anyone interested in a paragraph or two of it?

[thatartiststudios]

(Once again, I forgot to post this on my blog and then reblog it to the Rayllum Community, but I was on mobile at the time, so, here it is for the rest of y'all!)

Six Sentence Sunday

For Rayllum Month prompt July 5th: Hands/Touch-starved

Rayla tried to ignore how much Callum had grown in the past two years. He was taller now, just a bit taller than her. His frame had become more lean, his muscles more defined. She shouldn’t dwell on any of that—it would only hurt her more. But, as she’d learned, she was a glutton for punishment. As they worked late into the night in the library, Callum was hunched over a table, pouring over several books at once. Rayla found herself distracted, noticing how the glow of the candle illuminated his face. The way his hair, now swept to the side, revealed his sharper jawline. The broadness of his shoulders... She forced herself to look away. Focus on anything else.

[2manyfandoms2count]

I feel like the Miracuclass would get so involved in Olympics shenanigans, like you can't tell me that they wouldn't get in on the pins collecting craze and be so competitive about it

Current headcanons :

It starts with some of them going to the equivalent of the Coca Cola fanzone early in the competition, getting the free pin with their menu, and discovering all the people with their massive pin collection that spans decades of Olympic Games

They hear about brands making special edition pins for the Olympics and make a bet to get as many as possible (Tsurugi/Gabriel would definitely run the equivalent of Samsung giving away a phone to the people who collect all theirs, even if Gabriel disapproved of the scheme - it's business)

It's the summer, so the kids have nothing else to do than hunt around between following the games (you know a lot of them would get tickets to the events given their parents' statuses) and fighting Akumas (it's : they declare that the pins you can buy or only get from VIP packages are off limits because it's a bit too easy

Then they discover the Nations' pins and that's when the *real* shenanigans start, with them trying to infiltrate the Olympics Village

Ladybug and Chat Noir just go as heroes, but the others have to find other ways or just hang around all the Hospitality Houses and hope they'll be in contact with some athletes who have pins on them

Chat Noir and Alya also beg Ladybug to make a special one for the Miraculous team (Marinette is very tempted because it would definitely be very cool to show up with one and it would be a good trading coin against rare pins like individual athletes', but also wary that it might lead to some kind of reveal or at least too many questions on how the holders she chose got one)

Chloé sniffs at it all at first but not-so-secretly keeps up with the race anyway

[damianbugs]

now that whumptober 2023 is over, i wanted to share everything (3 fics lol) i wrote with the referenced comic panel in the title! it was a personal theme i picked for myself that helped with inspiration when writing :)

DAY 5: WE'RE NOT DEAD (WE WALK). [Dick & Tim]

Grayson #5

DAY 9: THIS ISN'T PUNISHMENT (I LOVE YOU). [Bruce & Jason]

Batman (2016) #138

DAY 22: FALL FROM ON HIGH (TO FIND THE RIGHT PERSPECTIVE). [Bruce & Duke & Jason]

Batman and The Signal #3

[seuonji]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!!

[saggitary]

Do any other authors be them original authors or fanfic authors, sit and daydream and plot how best they are going to devastate their readers in the upcoming plot and cackle like a mad witch while doing so?

[muffinlance]

Re-read of Little Zuko Book One: complete

In-Jokes: re-uploaded to my brain

Book Two Outline: (very) rough draft complete

Am I Using This To Procrastinate On My Other Writing Projects: absolutely