#rtc sickfic
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look, I know you said ask about Six of Crows but…like…do you have any sickfic-related headcanons for Ride the Cyclone, cause I’ll take all of ‘em :)
OH MY GOD YESYESYES
sickfics are my most pleasured guilty pleasure i desperately need more about them in this fandom🙏🙏 (also nischa is my main rtc ship so there may be hints towards that oops)
-ocean is so annoying to take care of when she's sick she blatantly refuses to rest until she literally cannot keep going
-often times this results in constance trailing after her all but begging ocean to accept help
-noel is also kind of annoying but in a self pitying woe is me way also there's like a 50% chance that he will also refuse help simply because of his pride
-he will go from "fuck off i'm fine." to "i'm dying." in the span of two minutes
-he also cannot stand being alone when he's sick because he needs the distraction so he always has his mother or one of the members of the choir around
-he's also extremely emotional in contrast to being usually pretty apathetic, he will yell at you or just like. start crying. without warning so nobody actually wants to be around him
-mischa is the opposite
-he isolates himself from everyone so as to not be seen in a moment of weakness (talia is the one person he will talk to unless noel is around)
-he just falls off the grid all his social media followers are like ?? because he usually posts stuff every few hours
-ricky just stays home and goes online all day when he's sick
-he won't blatantly tell anyone he's sick but if they ask he won't deny it
-unless it's funny and ironic
-"you weren't at school yesterday, were you sick or something?" "no i was on the moon." "okay then..?"
-penny DISAPPEARS without a word
-she doesn't answer any texts, she just vanishes
-when she gets back she acts like nothing ever happened
-"dude where were you??" "what are you talking about? :)"
-constance is the only one who can be normal
-she stays home but she tells the choir she's not going to be at school so they (ocean) don't worry
-she actually takes care of herself like she should so she's usually back a day later
#i love sickfics :((#ride the cyclone#rtc#ocean o'connell rosenberg#noel gruber#mischa bachinski#ricky potts#penny lamb#jane doe rtc#constance blackwood#ride the cyclone fanfiction#ride the cyclone fic#rtc fanfiction#rtc fic#ride the cyclone sickfic#rtc sickfic#sickfic#sickfic headcanons#headcanons#ride the cyclone headcanons#rtc headcanons
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Stubbornly Sick - Nischa
I KNOW I SAID I WASN’T GONNA DO NISCHA ANYMORE BUT I CANT GET THEM OUT OF MY HEAD SORRY
A oneshot in which Mischa is sick and refuses to admit it. Noel takes matters into his own hands.
Mischa rolled over on his thin-as-paper mattress, feeling his sweat seep into his pillowcase. He groaned, staring at the cement wall beside his lousy excuse for a bed. His whole body felt hot, and not in the way that meant people swoon over you. Beads of sweat rolled down from his hairline, his skin blotchy and red. His stomach growled, but he didn’t even want to get up and eat.
He fished his phone out from the comforter beside him, flipping it over to check the time: 9:30. He’d slept in later than ever, as if his body knew it needed rest. However, it was Sunday, meaning the choir was getting together for their weekly outing.
Ever since the 6 of them had miraculously survived a roller coaster accident together, Ocean had been taking initiative to get the group together. Some weeks it was shopping and walking around downtown at whatever little shops remained, some weeks it was the mall, but today they’d planned a little hiking expedition.
Mischa was almost never the biggest fan of these get togethers. First of all, it meant being stuck in the same vicinity as Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg for at least three hours. Secondly, it meant listening to Ocean for at least three hours. And lastly and probably worst, it meant not complaining about the little ginger scumbag for the entire time, or all hell would break loose.
The real reason Mischa went at all was to spend time with his boyfriend, Noel. The two of them had grown close as they recovered from their accident, and Noel had been there for every step of Mischa’s growing musical career. Most of the time, Noel’s work schedule made it difficult for the boys to spend time together. Taco Bell execs didn’t really take “need time to make out with my boyfriend” as a valid excuse for missing shifts. However, “mandated outdoor socialization” was acceptable, apparently, so choir outings were fair game.
Mischa ran his hands through his greasy, matted hair, yawning. His eyelids felt like they were made of steel, weighing him down and just wanting to close, keel over, and sleep. Even the way he carried himself, usually with his chest puffed out like a lion on the hunt, was different; slouched over and painful to even move.
His phone vibrated in the back pocket of his sweatpants, evidence of a text message coming through.
Noel: babe where r u! u said u would pick me up @ 9:15
He winced. Shit…
Noel set his phone down on his desk, turning back to the mirror to look at his makeup: on point as usual. Slumping back in his chair, he wondered where Mischa was.
It’s not super unlike him to sleep through his alarm…he can sleep through my snoring after all. Maybe he stayed up late? Which is weird, because usually when he stays up late it’s because he and I are texting or something…Is he ignoring me? Shit, am I gonna have to ask Ocean for a ride? Damn it…
He picked up the phone again and dialed Mischa’s number, and to Noel’s delight and relief, Mischa picked up.
“Hey babe…You alright?”
Mischa, at that moment, let out just about the loudest cough Noel had ever heard, hacking into the phone.
“Sorry, I slept through my-” he paused to yawn, “-alarm. I will be there in ten minutes, Poet.”
Noel’s heart absolutely melted at the sound of his partner’s voice. He sounded hoarse and just all around awful.
“Sweetheart, no offense, but you sound like shit. Are you feeling okay?”
“Fine. Just fine, honey. You wait and I’ll- ACHOO”
The sneeze just about made Noel have a heart attack with the sheer volume of it. He wasn’t so sure he loved the idea of Mischa even leaving the house in this condition, but he also knew how much of a stubborn asshole his boyfriend could be. Talking Mischa into staying home was not going to be easy in the slightest.
“Mischa…are you sure it’s the best idea for you to come get me? I can ask Ocean for a ride if you’re sick, you need rest…” Initially, he was going to scold Mischa, but his ‘loving boyfriend’ mode took over in a heartbeat. “I don’t even have to go today! Just get back to bed, drink lots of-”
“No, no.” Mischa waved him off. “I am going to go get dressed, and then I will come get my special boy, okay? I love you, Noel.”
“I love you too, which is why I want you to-”
He hung up. He fucking hung up.
This was gonna be a long day.
Mischa had taken driver’s education. He knew that driving while sick could lead to accidents, because being sick made you drowsy, right? But Mischa wasn’t sick, he couldn’t be. Mischa didn’t get sick, at least that’s what he’d gaslit himself into believing. He got into the driver’s seat, rearing on the gas and speeding out of the driveway, almost slamming into his foster parents’ mailbox on his way out.
Noel’s house wasn’t too far away from his, nowhere in Uranium City was very far away from any other place, to be honest. That was just how small towns worked. He turned onto Noel’s street and pulled up in front of the house. He parked, slightly crooked in the driveway, and trudged to the front step.
“Noel!” He croaked out, his voice cracking. He rang the doorbell.
The shorter male opened the door and looked Mischa up and down with a satisfied smirk on his face. “As expected, you look like someone pushed you out of a car window and then ran you over with a pickup truck. Bed, now.”
“What? No! We have the hike-”
“I already texted Ocean and let her know that you’re sick and thus will not be attending. Now please go lay down, you know where my room is.”
“But…that just means I am going to get you sick! “So what? You’re the love of my life, I think I can handle your cooties.”
For once, it was Noel being the stubborn one. It was clear he wasn’t going to hear another word about it. Mischa allowed himself to be escorted (read: dragged by the collar of his shirt) upstairs to Noel’s bedroom.
“Get your ass under the covers.” Noel demanded playfully. “Mom’s working another late shift, but I don’t have to work again until Monday afternoon. We could spend all day and night right here if it would make you feel better.”
Mischa yawned and plopped down on Noel’s bed, having made the decision to be cooperative for once. “And do what? Talk about how shitty I feel? Because I feel like…big…bleh.”
“I know you do, darling.” Noel kissed his boyfriend’s forehead, giggling. “If you would lay down like I told you to and rest up, you might feel a little bit less bleh. Have you eaten today?”
“No.” He admitted. “I was not hungry.”
Noel sighed. “I’ll go get you some toast or something. You really gotta start taking care of yourself when you’re sick.”
“I am not sick.” Mischa protested. “Just a little tired.”
“Either way, you need rest.” Noel pressed his boyfriend down, hand splayed out over his chest. “Lay down, Mischa. Spare me my sanity.”
Mischa rolled his eyes. “I do not need to lay down, poet. Sleep is for the weak.”
“No, dumbfuck, sleep is for the idiot boyfriend who won’t admit that he feels like he was hit point blank with a sack of bricks!”
Mischa pondered Noel’s innate ability to know exactly how he felt, because the sack of bricks thing was fairly accurate. He felt like he was going to topple over onto the floor, but would his cocky ass admit that? When pigs fly.
“Sleep is for the weak.” He repeated instead, sitting back up. If he was going to get in bed he was not going to lay down and he was also going to make it everyone’s problem.
“Whatever you say, dickwad,” Noel sighed. He was ever so creative with the pet names. “Sit still and don’t, I don’t know, set the house on fire. What do you want to eat?”
“I told you I am not hun—” he started, but he knew there was no winning this argument. “I guess…toast?”
Noel went downstairs and fished a loaf of bread and the toaster out, tossed a slice in, and promised himself he would not scream when the toast popped up.
He broke the promise.
Anyway, he took out the golden brown bread and slathered it in butter, taking it back upstairs to Mischa.
In the time it took Noel to make a piece of toast, Mischa had flopped over and fallen asleep. Noel made a soft tsk tsk sound, setting the plate of toast on the nightstand. He gently climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over both Mischa and himself. Rolling onto his side, he came face to face with a peacefully dozing Mischa and a pool of drool already staining the pillow (not that Noel really minded). He brushed Mischa’s chestnut curls out of his eyes, giggling softly.
“Yeah, rest easy, tough guy.” He whispered. “My fucking idiot.” He snuck a quick kiss onto Mischa’s forehead. “I love you.
#rtc#ride the cyclone#newsies#nischa#mischa bachinski#noel gruber#noel x mischa#my writing#oneshots#my oneshots#sickfic#rtc fanfic#rtc fanfiction
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“catfish theory” this, “ocean is awful” that. shut up and write more sick fics !!!! give me more hurt/comfort !! give me hungover mischa !! give me overworked ocean !! give me chronically i’ll constance !! GIVE ME PAIN AND FLUFF GODDAMN IT .
#this is about nischa#give me nischa sickfics#please pleaseeee#pretty please#ride the cyclone#rtc fanfic#rtc
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hi!! i’m formally asclexe on the interne, but you can call me my irl name which is cameron, or cam, cammy, camyron, ronnie, any variation of cameron ig, and i don’t really care if you call me platonic nicknames! my preferred pronouns are they/them, but it/its or he/him are okay, but they/them mostly. and i’m an aspec lesbian!
go follow and ask my house md ask blog @ask-the-ducklings!! (no seriously no anyone interacts with it and i like attention)
!! I AM A MINOR. !! please do not send creepy asks/comments/messages/etc. if your blog is 18+, make sure you’re comfortable following me or don’t interact at all. idc! please be respectful when interacting with my blog!!
zionists, racists, homophobes/transphobes, fascists, terfs, etc, youre absolutely not welcome here and you probably wouldn’t like it either. fuck off.
but kinds of really nice, cool people are very welcome. and to fellow writers and artists, hilson truthers, and the lovely neurodivergent queer kids like me, y’all get a special welcome. welcome! <33
if you don’t know me irl/from ao3, here’s some stuff about me!
i mostly and will continue to post to the house M.D. fandom (season 6, i don’t give a shit about spoilers ik the ending) but my interests change pretty often. i really like cartoons/some anime, as well. some fun facts about me is that i’m left-handed, an avid papa’s sushiria gamer, a burnt out “gifted” kid, a cat person (i like dogs, i live with a dog, but i prefer cats), i love commentary videos (chadchad is my favorite channel prob), my music taste is alternative/indie rock, i play both the violin (badly) and the electric guitar (well), i’m a huge theater kid (rtc and heathers my beloved), and my favorite fanfiction trope is hurt/comfort / sickfics!!
*will make full text posts later ‘bout this. i like hazbin/helluva, they could be better but i enjoy them, but i am not a vivziepop apologist.
banner credit: https://www.tumblr.com/kingmaxstatic/689659164673409024/finally-did-that-thing-called-making?source=share
and please enjoy the provided picture above of my family dog in my new room (we just moved i swear i’m not boring please believe me)
/___/\ ꒰ ˶• ༝ - ˶꒱ ./づᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊°.~⭐️⭐️ stay tuned, have a good day, and be nice as i am three years old
#ao3#first post#silly#im a only silly little guy#house md#welcome me to tumblr or else please and thank you#intro post#introductory post#pinned intro
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I also desperately want rtc sickfics pls
rtc kids when they’re sick headcanons because i’m sick right now T_T
ocean: tries desperately to just. not be sick. and go about her life because being sick is for the weak!! but as soon as constance finds out she forces her to stay in bed and takes care of her<3
constance: sleeps all day and only wakes up because ocean forces her to. she’s just a sleepy girl (just like me for real!) also ocean being ocean would come over to give her her homework and end up staying super late hanging out.
noel: ok you know the part in noel’s lament where monique gets typhoid flu? just that. he wraps himself in a blanket and lies on the ground all pitiful. his mom probably also makes him eat a ton of kimchi and spicy food.
mischa: tough guyTM. will not admit to being sick until noel catches him coughing or something and someone in the choir will make him stay at their house and take care of him.
ricky: the only canonical time he was sick that we know of was… interesting. disregarding that, i think he would spend all his time when sick online and binging tv.
penny: she probably doesn’t get sick that often i just get those vibes from her. but when she does, she goes radio silent, does not tell anyone where she is and why she’s not at school and everyone is somewhat worried that she’s dead.
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In your opinion, which chapters of RTC have the best hurt/comfort and which one have the best fluff?
Oh, this is a fun question. Okay, let’s see here.
Hurt/Comfort
This is hard because I don’t actually - write a lot of classic hurt/comfort stuff. I write a lot of ‘aftermath of trauma’ and ‘hurt without so much of the comfort’ but I always feel like it fits kind of uneasily into the classic ‘hurt/comfort’ category. I’m much more comfortable just calling it straight up ‘whump.’ So if you want that...that’s a different category, I think. But for fic that actually has some comfort in it, my favorites are:
when I’m falling I’m at peace - The post Doomcation (take two!) fic.
where will I end up, tonight? - I love writing insomnia fic. And Loki actually gets some sleep at the end of it, probably. (Steve’s POV of this one is in Scattershot.)
to face unafraid the plans that we’ve made - The fic that was...I don’t remember if this started as ‘proposal fic’ or ‘sickfic’ and then it became both.
unexpected guests - I love this one. It’s outsider POV (with Natasha) which I always love, and I love writing Nat’s POV in general, and while this one is relatively light on the comfort I’m putting it here anyway because it’s small but one of my personal favorites that I think gets noticed less (similar to Retrospective.)
the mercy covering me - Post-Amora trying to get back on their feet fic.
Tremors - Your classic sickfic (this time with Loki!) with bonus angst.
Fluff
this old world seemed new to me - Steve introduces Loki to hot chocolate.
I’ve got my love to keep me warm - Steve and Loki have a nice weekend with actually no interruptions! It’s one of the last times they get one of those.
as we dream by the fire - This one is fluffier than the actual proposal fic because it is Steve’s perspective and therefore misses out on Loki’s intense anxiety.
it’s the season of possible miracle cures - It’s the wedding fic! I mean, of course it’s all, like. Squishy feelings. Minimal sadness.
with hope as currency - Thor and Steve pre-wedding bonding.
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I’ll Stay With You, Okay? - Nischa (sickfic)
@college-knockout and I did an art and writing swap, this is my part of the deal, a Nischa sickfic! Enjoy!
Mischa was the first to notice that something was wrong. It was a choir practice on a Friday, meaning it happened at the beginning of the day instead of the end. Constance and Ocean were at the front of the room, casually discussing an assignment for history class while Ricky and Penny snickered and scrolled through Vine compilations in the back. Father Markus watched over the choir with a wistful look in his eyes, half out of it as usual.
None of that was what Mischa nervous.
No, what was freaking him out was that Noel was slumped in a pile on a desk, head down on his arm as he snored, a string of drool dripping from his lower lip. His face was pale and pasty, a harsh contrast from the poet’s usually well put together appearance. His hair was a mess, and his eyelids drooped, half-covering the hazel orbs that normally sparkled with all the tragic beauty of a fall day drifting into the cold and unforgiving arms of winter.
Something was clearly wrong, and everyone else was so lost in their own worlds to notice.
”Poet?” Mischa grunted, stalking over and tucking away his phone. “You look off.”
Noel looked up. It seemed as if it took all the effort in the world just to lift his head. “I’m fine. Just tired.” His voice sounded hoarse, like he’d been yelling all day, and his nose was whistling from congestion with every breath he took. Mischa’s brow furrowed in concern.
“You need sleep.” He chided. “Why did you even come to school?”
Noel didn’t look like he cared to explain. With a groan, he admitted: “My car broke down and Constance is my ride to and from work. If I didn’t come to school, she’d have had to pick me up all the way across town.”
Mischa was appalled that his boyfriend was planning on going to work after an already long day. “Oh come on, Noel! You need to rest so you can get better! At least tell me you took pain medication?”
He shook his head. “We don’t have any. That stuff is expensive, and ever since mum got laid off we’ve had to budget big-time.” He placed his head back down on the desk, yawning.
Mischa went straight over to Ocean. “Tell old man I am leaving to take Poet home. He is sick.”
Ocean frowned. “He came to school. If he showed up he must be okay.”
”He gave me some lame-ass excuse. My boy needs bed-rest.” Mischa insisted. Call him what you would: bad boy, asshat, dumbass. What he was was a protective boyfriend.
”Fine, but hurry back. Don’t think you’re skipping choir because of this!” Ocean whined. “Bring him home, put him in bed, come right back!”
-
Mischa tapped Noel on the shoulder. “Come on, I’m driving you home.”
Noel lazily gazed up again. “I told you I’ll be fine.”
“Too bad I don’t agree.” Mischa took Noel’s hand and thumbed at his palm. “Your hands are so cold, they must be numb.” Noel rested his head against Mischa’s shoulder.
It was then that Mischa realized just how ice-cold Noel’s entire body was. He was trembling. “Come on, Noel.” He begged. “Call out sick.” He helped stable the ill boy’s body, stroking his beautiful but knotted hair.
Noel’s glazed eyes met Mischa’s. Wordlessly, Mischa continued to beg. He breathed a sigh of relief as Noel finally cracked a small smile. “Fine.”
He allowed Mischa to walk him out of school and into the parking lot, where they located and unlocked Mischa’s Honda Civic, its bumper scarred with evidence of Mischa’s minimal parallel parking skills. Noel climbed into the passenger seat, his head falling onto the window.
Mischa kept glancing at him as they drove, as if he could keel over and die at any moment. Of course, he didn’t, he just looked miserable the whole time. “Poet?”
”Mhm?”
”Do you want me to stay with you today?”
Noel lifted his head up to shake it and put it back down. “If you think that because I’m sick, I’m deaf, you’re dead wrong. I heard what Ocean said. She’ll flip out!”
Mischa grinned. “Let her flip out, then. I am going to take care of my poet.”
They pulled into Noel’s driveway. He and his mum lived in a small, cape-style house. It was pale grey in colour with a navy blue door. The yard was overgrown, the concerete in the driveway cracked and weathered from years of use. The paint on the siding was chipped, and cobwebs hung in the corners.
“Home.” Noel breathed. He weakly pressed open the door. Mischa helped him stumble into the house—his mum wasn’t home, but Noel took his keys with him everywhere.
Noel led Mischa into his bedroom. Ever since his father had left, Noel had been using the master bedroom. His mother had no use for it. It was big, but not too big. The walls were a rich wine red, heavy velvet curtains hung from the windows. Noel’s bed was a queen-sized four-poster with a thick grey bedspread. There was a fluffy, shaggy rug covering the hardwood floor, and an antique vanity was positioned in front of a window.
Noel sat down on his bed. “You can go now.” He told Mischa. “Thank you for the ride.”
Mischa sat down beside him, draping an arm over his shoulder. “Go put some comfy clothes on. I will make you tea.” He insisted. Noel stood and walked over to the dresser, pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt with a rose on it. “Happy?”
“Yeah. Now put clothes on.” Mischa replied, standing up. “I will not watch, do not worry.” He slipped out of the bedroom, back down the stairs, and into the kitchen.
Mischa quickly located the teacups—Noel had a habit of impulse-buying them at flea markets and yard sales—and the boxes of tea selections. There was earl grey, chamomile, lavender, something called throat-coat, and peppermint. Mischa selected the lavender tea, having remembered Constance telling him that lavender was good for making you sleepy. He picked out a white teacup decorated with roses and violets, dug out a tea kettle, filled it, and set it on the stove. When the kettle started whistling, he poured the boiling water into the teacup, then put in the teabag. Proud of himself (Constance had just taught him how to do this a week or so ago) he let the teabag steep and then pulled it out, adding a few drops of milk and honey. Carefully, he took it up the stairs.
He found Noel under the covers, propping his head up on the pillow. He had a weighted blanket draped over his legs, and a throw blanket wrapped around his upper body. Mischa gently handed him the tea, kissing his forehead while he was at it.
“I will stay with you, okay?” Mischa sat down on the bed once again.
“No! You’ll get sick.” Noel pointed out. “I don’t want to get you sick.”
”It is okay. I do not mind as long as it gives me excuse to be with you.”
Noel took a sip of tea, then another, and another, before moving the teacup to his nightstand and inviting Mischa under the covers. Mischa laid down, pulling Noel into an embrace. He watched the boy’s eyes through his dark lashes, and when they finally shut, Mischa gave him a little kiss on the nose.
“I will stay here as long as you need.”
#rtc musical#rtc#ride the cyclone#mischa bachinski#noel rtc#mischa rtc#noel gruber#nischa#sickfic#oneshot#my writing
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I've read all the rtc sickfics so I've gotten to the point where I'm just reading the A & B example ones and let me tell you they're becoming my new otp
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Considering me excited I'm so desperate for more rtc sickfics
dude I’m trying to write like a 25% Mischa-centric (like yes the plot moves itself forward but Mischa also helps it at the end; it’s not from his perspective though ;) ) sickfic (also gonna tag you cause uh- yeah :D @creapysummer ) but I’m stuuuck and busy with outside stuff 😰
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Does anyone have any good rtc sickfic recs?
#im sick and wallowing in self pity pls#ride the cyclone#rtc#ride the cyclone fanfiction#rtc fanfiction#rtc fic recs#ride the cyclone fic recs
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Top 5 hurt/comfort moments in RTC. Please.
well since you asked. (there is…one that would go on this list that I’m not putting here because none of you other than one person have read it yet, so we’ll just…set that aside.)
1. Loki’s Doomcation 2.0 in only when you hit the ground and when I’m falling I’m at peace. I mean, I feel like this one is obvious considering how often I visit/revisit it years later, but. The aftermath fic especially is...I’m always a sucker for aftermath of trauma in general (it’s just fun! and means getting to see what a character is made of after you pull them apart!) and this was just. I feel proud of it still, which is certainly a marker of something, considering how much I generally feel proud of things I wrote more than five years ago (rarely).
2. Shrapnel and where will I end up, tonight? Mind control! Insomnia! Loss of faith in the integrity of your own thoughts and refreshed fear based on old experiences! I’m a fan. Also, not totally related, but I was really pleased that while I was writing this I was like “heh heh heh laying groundwork for the later break in the Avengers as part of Tony’s increasing hostility toward Loki heh heh heh”
3. Steve’s illness in to face unafraid the plans that we’ve made. aka the fic that started out being a sickfic and then turned into a proposal fic, I didn’t expect that to happen but it did. I love making characters sick and delirious, and there were a lot of bonus feelings in this one.
4. Loki’s illness in Tremors. I didn’t expect this fic to get as out of hand as it did, which at this point should probably just be my unofficial motto, but I ended up being pleased with it both as a) your basic sickfic but also b) what Loki suffering at this late point in RTC would look like, when he actually has, like, friends who would worry about him other than Steve.
5. The aftermath of Amora in the mercy covering me. Speaking of ‘mind control’ and ‘loss of faith in the integrity of your own thoughts! Both Steve and Loki get to suffer in this one.
Runner up is actually unexpected guests because I really like the Natasha POV in it and it was fun to write RTC h/c from an outsider POV. Also the emotional whump that is the majority of Collapse the Light Into Earth.
#conversating#quenasparquea#remember this cold#top five meme#lise memes#i feel egotistical but you know what
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fifty two pages and 20k later but I did it, I fucking did it, you motherfuckers are getting a...really angsty sickfic for RTC’s seventh anniversary
#now i just gotta finish the h/c fic#but lena gave me an idea for an endgame fixit so i gotta do that first#priorities? what?#confessions of a frustrated writer
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OKAY I'M SORRY I'M GETTING TO THIS LATE BUT ALL IF YOU NEED TO CHECK THIS OUT!! IT'S AMAZING :D
an excerpt from a rtc fanfic im writing for my creative writing class!!!!!! its sorta an ocean character analysis and ill post the full thing 2 ao3 once ive finished.
They were going to do great.
Something in her doubted that.
A stagehand ushered them into the spotlight. Ocean led the way; head high, gate confident, mouth spread into a charming smile. The rest of the choir got into position as she walked to the mic, center-stage.
She couldn’t make out the audience or the judges’ faces in the blinding yellow light. She felt, for a moment, as if the gates of heaven had cracked open the rusty theater like an egg.
She braced herself for the sound of trumpets and felt foolish.
#you captured ocean perfectly#this is just reminding me that i still have yet to finish my mischa sickfic fhdudh#ride the cyclone#rtc#ocean o'connell rosenberg#musicals#reblog
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so in the last week I have:
finished a draft of the next Tear My Castle Down chapter
finished a draft of the RTC anniversary sickfic
finished a draft of the hurt/comfort exchange fic
finished the Endgame fix-it fic that I just posted
DAMN for once I’m actually feeling good about myself, now tomorrow I get to start working on (for sure) the Doctrine of Labyrinths darkfic and the Lymond Chronicles darkfic vol. 2, and possibly also on the RTC Thanos fic (which needs a catchier name, though I guess I could just call it by the title)
or I could, you know, take a break, but...sounds fake
#important text posts#confessions of a frustrated writer#i am absolutely making fun of myself#mostly just riding this wave of productivity as long as i can
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what I need to work on is my hurt/comfort exchange fic but what I want to work on after watching endgame is all my mcu fic, especially the rtc sickfic
the struggle, she is so real
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okay so another one of these, just thinking about the fic I want to focus on this week
first of all, finishing the last few 150 words meme things for Tremors (the RTC sickfic), Dead Superheroes Walking (the post-IW limbo fic that’s going...somewhere?? who knows), and Steve Rogers’ Halfway House (making decent progress in the next chapter, if slowly).
after that, I’m eyeing starting the Lymond fic (titled, for the moment, gather frankincense) and I’d also like to work more on Anticipation and Double Vision (the Frostmaster oneshots). and even though it’s less satisfying immediately because it is so far from done, probably more the first steps stumbling forward because it’s the long fic that’s moving along best.
keep working on a Doctrine of Labyrinths fic because I’ve still got that itch (most likely the last glimpse of winter for that plotless whumpy satisfaction) and possibly no more halos on evergreens since so far writing it is going well.
anyway, that’s about where I’m at. totally manageable as you can see, definitely focusing on a few things in a way that’s super productive
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