#Playing It Cool Fanfic

[melooooo17]

@openphrase123 your fanfic(s but i mainly made art of the mira and siffrin one because i cant remember words for the life of me for i do not speak french) IS???? ? SO GOOD. SO GOOD IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH finally something to look forward to in the week fr

Mild spoilers for it ig!! But nothing too explicitly groundbreaking i dont think it'll kill your mom to look at these without having read the ff first

Don't mind the shit quality i??? I drew all these so fast theyre kinda shit and i have yet to fully acclamate isat to my artstyle so it's mid

Teehee me when i make shitty rushed fanart to show my appreciation that i cannot put into words for my faovorite games and also authors

peep the rant in the tags

[kittydoremi]

Sonic AU thing I thought of were Sonic is cursed with ice powers 🦔❄️

[goldensunset]

confession: when pkmn bw came out i hated ghetsis so much for abusing his hydreigon that i wrote multiple fics of his hydreigon killing and eating him

anyways that necessitated me learning about the anatomy of a human body. im now a biology major. and it's all because of ghetsis pkmnbw. i still hate him btw

ANON. ANON THAT SLAPS!!!!! LET’S GOOOOOOO GET DARK AND GORY WITH IT!!!!!!!!!!! AND LET THAT EDGINESS DRIVE YOU TO A BRIGHTER FUTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAHHHSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[crowbird]

I'm so tired of age gap fics please if i can suspend my disbelief about mushroom zombies I can suspend my disbelief about the reader's age not being equivalent to my own, please just give me two 50(+) year old bastards falling in love no more of this 15+ year age gap I swear to god someone is gonna make me start writing last of us fanfiction at this rate.

Anyways, I would like to request some aid from the last of us fandom in terms of fic recs if anyone knows any good reader insert or x reader fics wherein they and joel are around the same age? Pre or post outbreak, au, I don't care I'm starving please if anyone has any let me know.

EDIT: I did not think this was going to get any traction which in hindsight was kinda stupid of me but I really want to clarify something since I originally left it in the tags which I probably shouldn't have. THIS ISNT A HIT PEICE. I've been a fanfic writer for years now even if this blog isn't exactly a great example of my supposed stellar writing consistency. I mean no hate towards the people who like age gap or write it it just isn't my thing personally and I would like to read fics that explore other topics besides that when it comes to this fandom. Yes I understand the easy solution is to write my own and i would be a liar to say I wasn't but I'm new to this fandom and still consuming the actual content and I know my drafts aren't exactly great right now in part because of that. What I wanted to accomplish here wasn't just to complain a little but to reach out and ask if anyone could point me in the direction of non age gap fics in the mean time and they did so thank you very much!! I genuinely appreciate it. Write what you like but understand that I also reserve the right to read what I like and to ask for help in finding it because let's be honest tumblrs search and filter system is non existent and asking for help was my next best bet so uh yeah I'm gonna stop rambling now and refine this maybe when I'm more awake and can word things better probably.

[sophelisticated]

Me when I reread The Rehabilitation of Death by @bamsara for the 30th time 😏

OKAY ANOTHER SHORT FANFIC BUT THIS TIME ITS ACTUALLY NOT CRINGE AS HELL

Slight tw warning and spoiler warning for The Rehabilitation Of Death the latest chapter (specifically takes place day after chapter 22)

Bamsara if this is cringe let me know 🙏

The Lamb knows many things. Has watched many deaths, been the reason of many deaths, and has experienced many deaths. No matter what The Lamb wants, death will always be there.

But Death comes Life. Beginnings, growth, anew. They are not different, yet not the same. Twins of different fonts, perhaps. This is one of the many things The Lamb has learned over the centuries.

A God tear sits in their palm. Glistening and smooth, the halos around it moving slowly. It glows in The Lamb’s palm before they drop it in the crown’s inventory. The crown floats silently in front of Lambert for a second longer than usual, before gliding back up to sit atop the lamb’s head. It has been a bit more tense lately with Narinder, the crown’s red eye reminds them of the cat’s. The Lamb’s eyebrows furrow in confusion when Narinder seems to be looking at something far off into the trees. Odd..? But that seems to be a thing he likes to do lately. But Lambert and Narinder are slightly injured, and the healing process was too slow.

“Nari? Whatcha’ see?” They prompt, more interested in what Narinder is locked onto than the very minor injuries they have.

Narinder doesn’t respond, but acknowledged the Lamb with a flick of his tail. Lambert waits patiently. It is not uncommon for Narinder to be silent for a bit before responding. But this time, it takes a lot longer. After the 100th annoying shuffle from Lambert, Narinder speaks slowly.

“There is… someone dying.” He rumbles from under his hood. It was a bit chilly, so it was understandable. The Lamb’s heart drops to their stomach. “Someone back at the cult?” Lambert winces, already going through funeral plans in their mind.

“No.” He responds in a slightly irritated way, making Lambert feel a tad offended. “You missed a creature. Not a heretic.”

“You mean ‘we’?”

“If you had not distracted me with your useless chatter about ‘pineapples’-“

“Ratau said it tingles your tongue when you eat it! I was just saying how I wants to see if I could grow some and- hey!” Lambert gets cut off of their mini rant at Narinder swiftly moving forward and back into the forest. Lambert makes a huffy pout and hastily makes sure they got every bit of loot from their crusade and from the mini boss. They then hastily run to catch up to Narinder, their hooves almost catching on a branch in the process.

When they finally catch up to Narinder, they find him staring into a wooden and splintering house. Newly destroyed, the indent and blood splatter on a broken wall from a heretic being thrown is still fresh. Narinder’s doing, from the violence of it. Narinder watches as Lambert begins to try and move the rubble as much as possible away. It was easy enough—it wasn’t a very stable house in the first place. When they manage to get enough rubble out of the entryway, Narinder steps forward first, and glances at the Lamb. “Here.” He points to a patch of rubble in the corner of the room. Lambert huffs. “You’re not gonna help me? You’re the one who destroyed the house.”

“You’re the one who distracted me. I would rather let them rot.” Narinder glares. Sheesh, sensitive much? It doesn’t matter, even if Lambert softly kicked him in the ankle for the attitude. Narinder straightens angrily. Ready to snap back. “Lamb-“

The moment Lambert has taken away a few heavy logs and splinters of wood, There is a horrible wheezing, lungs full of blood and throat full of mucus type wheezing. A moth, a teenager by the looks of it, falls from the rubble and falls onto the Lamb, almost catching Lambert off balance. Four shaky hands grab Lambert like a lifeline, still coughing up blood and mucus, getting most of it on their shoulder unintentionally. Lambert knows what to do. Centuries he has practiced and repeated this.

The Lamb carefully picks up the injured moth and holds them bridal style, looking them over while gently reassuring them with kind words that have been rehearsed many, many times.

It was certainly a moth. A female by the look of it, late teens age-wise. A very, *very* fluffy moth, which is odd, moths he used to have didn’t have this much fur. A tiny bow tie at their neck with a capelet that was pointed in the front and got longer at the back, it also was pointed there. There was a symbol on the back of said capelet, but Lambert could look at that later, when the moth wasn’t actively dying.

“How bad is she?” Lambert twists their head to Narinder, rubbing gentle circles into the poor kid’s back to try and get them from fainting. Narinder shifts. “She will die soon.” He responds, stoicism not leaving his tone. Before the Lamb can say anything else, he adds on. “You are too caring.” Something in Narinder’s gaze changes for just a split second, almost like something fond, before steeling just as soon as it happened.

The adrenaline is making them see things, Lambert assumes.

A surge of irritation washes over Lambert. Narinder has been snippy ever since they woke up this morning. Was sleeping in the same cottage as Narinder really that horrible? Apparently it was for him, because Narinder has been cryptic and frustrating all damn day. Lambert already had enough on his plate. Without waiting for Narinder, the Lamb storms out of the house, cradling the moth teen to their chest, counting the beats between each of her breaths. Once they almost reach the portal to go back to the cult grounds; the moth opens her eyes to not stare at Lambert, no, she stares directly at the pissy cat behind the Lamb. The poor moth makes another heaving wheeze which sounds more like a soft sob. She wheezes as the first words trickle out of her mouth. “Please… n-not… not ye-yet… please… ple-lease…” she whispered to the cat before closing her eyes again to seem to drift off.

Lambert wants to stop. Process. Question. But the determination to keep the kid alive keeps his legs going. Lambert looks back at Narinder with a confused look. Narinder only stops briefly, but does continue to walk after the Lamb. Narinder does not say anything, but seems to be staring at the fainted face of the moth.

Lambert feels strangely uneasy. They cannot pinpoint why.

──────────────────

If yall wanna know what the moth follower looks leik… post is here :D

[thornycoconut]

Supposed to write FengQing rbb project bickering fluff nonsmut.

Decided to write FengYao sexy fun smut.

Actually wrote FengQing upset deflowering smut.

[inspiteofganon]

does anyone else play "does the artist think Ganondorf is ugly?" when looking at pictures of him or is that just me

[starstruckodysseys]

i would be anything for you —

She could’ve made picture perfect outfits for the film, down to the last thread. The hoodie wrapped around Tyler’s waist, decidedly not his. The tiny crack in the lens of Vanessa’s glasses. The fading green streak in Dylan’s hair. The scuffs on her own boots. The bears.

(There are so many bears. Where are they going to get enough bears for this.)

or: in which a short film, an awards ceremony, and a couple of stuffed bears bring people together again.

read here on ao3

[monstersinthecosmos]

i feel like slightly younger than marius mael is the best just for flavor reasons lol. reeaally curious to know what you think

I think I usually land on slightly younger but not like a baby. Like early 30s maybe. BUT I'LL TELL YOU SOME THOUGHTS OF WHY I LIKE EACH OR WHY EACH COULD WORK:

Under 30: First of all because of Jesse's chapter in QOTD--Maharet was turned around age 20 I think? And for Jesse, I'm sure there's that sort of uncanny thing where your mind fills in blanks and makes excuses, like, her "aunt" has been around her whole life so like gee golly I guess she just looks young for her age! Except that there's like the vampire uncanniness too, so whatever you judge as an age doesn't super matter. So like, Mael blending in as one of her guy friends in his early 20s would make sense. Jesse DOES also clock him as not being human, so again I think the uncanniness might not make her peg either of them as a certain age.

I do worry if this clashes with the idea that he could properly be a priest? Caesar said that it takes 20 years to train a priest, but A) A lot of what Caesar said is like anti-Keltoi propaganda and might not be accurate since the Druids famously never left anything in writing, so there's very little first hand information about them. B) MAYBE IT'S OKAY BECUASE IN VC-VERSE TESKHAMEN IS REAL AND MAEL WAS REALLY COMMUNING WITH HIM SO IF THERE WAS LIKE MAGIC AFOOT IN THE COMMUNITY MAYBE HE GOT FAST TRACKED OR RESPECTED AS BEING SPECIAL IDK. I can work with it and make excuses lol.

I LOVE the idea of him being like a young man because of how much madder that would make Marius, plus the way he likes to mentor young blonde men lol. But it might like hurt him even worse if the author of all his misfortunate is like SOME KID.

In his 30s: Personally I usually land here because I DO wonder how long it takes him to gain status in his community and become a priest (in his 30s is still fast tracking it but maybe feels more plausible LOL) and I enjoy the idea of he and Marius being sort of similar to each other. Like, Marius often gets used as the example of Turning an Older Guy and what it means for his temperament and the way it translates to his immortality. I like imagining Mael as around Marius's age for that reason, like I want to remove all his excuses why Mael is a young stupid kid or even an old salty jerk--it forces Marius to confront that Mael is ALSO someone who is chill and smart and has had enough life experience. BUT WHILE THERE'S A WINDOW WHERE THEY COULD BE SIMILAR IN AGE, OR MAEL COULD BE A TAD OLDER, I ALSO STILL ENJOY MARIUS BEING LIKE "HE'S YOUNGER THAN ME I HATE THIS!" BECAUSE HIS AGE AND SELF-PERCEIVED WISDOM & EXPERIENCE ARE IMPORTANT TO HIS IDENTITY AND HE FEELS BELITTED LOL.

In his 40s: Makes sense for the above reason! But I like to skew younger personally just for the Marius ageism dynamic lol. Also there's something about him being a foil to Marius where like, if they're very similar in other ways it can kind of emphasize how their atheism/religion contrasts each other and affects them as people.

Over 50: ALSO POSSIBLE and it's hilarious bc in the audiobook the narrator reads him like such a grouchy old man lmao. I could see this causing a lot of resentment because Marius likes to be the oldest and wisest in the room. I could see him also being younger because Marius insults him every chance he gets and I just think he would've told us that Mael is like an old hag if it were true lol. Anyway wondering how this effects Marius's barbarian kink and how he submits to men.

[bigshotspambot]

I just had a Clarity Moment after watching a gameplay recording of the Spamton NEO boss fight i saved on my computer and everything just HIT me so hard like HOW did I end up with a Spamton NEO body pillow in my bed. This happened over the course of a year. It just kept escalating everything was a blur and I NEEDED HIM SO BAD. You know

Does this happen to anybody else.

[glitchy-anime-fan]

I was scrolling through my Assassination Classroom tiktoks and was reminded of a comment that said that they thought Gakuho was Karmas dad because Karma and Gakushuu are similar, and ngl I can see it.

Now I kind of want an angsty - potentially hurt/comfort - fic where Karma and Gakushuu find out they’re half brothers through Gakuho (Gakuho is the bio dad to both but they have different moms) and now they have to navigate through the new information.

I want a fic where, at first, Karma and Gakushuu are in complete denial of this new revelation because there’s no way it’s true. They try to ignore it, sweep it under the rug, pretend everything is normal, but as time goes on they start to see the similarities between them. They can’t deny it for much longer and they’re both itching for answers to the questions consuming them.

Perhaps one day they confront Gakuho and even he’s in denial at first. There’s no way he could have another son right? Even when he’s confronted with the DNA test he’s still in denial. He can’t fathom having another son and not knowing about it. The strict/calculated aide of him doesn’t like the idea of this unknown variable, of Karma Akabane actually being related to him. But his old self, the kind hearted teacher that’s been locked away for so long can’t fathom the idea that he’s failed another one of his students.

I think Karma would struggle with this whole debacle the most given he’s been neglected by his parents for so long. I think he would struggle with the thought that he’s the reason they’re always gone. The idea that he’s not his “dad’s” biological child, essentially an affair baby, would probably cause him to think that’s why his parents travel all the time. He’s the reason they don’t want him around.

Gakushuu would most likely not know exactly how to feel about everything. He’s not sure if he should be angry or upset at the situation. Should he direct his anger at Karma despite him also being a victim of the situation, or his father despite him claiming to have no clue about his and Karmas relationship. Had his mother known anything?

I think they way Karma’s mom and Gakuho met could vary, but whatever the case this whole thing started from a lack of communication. Either Mrs. Akabane didn’t realise Gakuho was the father, not her husband, or she did know but being the free spirited person she is she didn’t want this to tie her to Gakuho in any way. Karma takes after his mother more so whatever the reason it was very likely that no one would question Karma’s parentage.

And in the end, whether Karma and Gakushuu become friends or whatever, I think in the least they start to understand each other just a little.

(Ps. If anyone wants to actually write a fic based off this idea feel free to! Just tag me so I can read it 😉)

[jacqcrisis]

The impromptu (but necessary) fight with the monster hunter Gandrel went... we'll say poorly for Astarion. Ronan's blessing on them could only help so much and as the hunter focused him down with a barrage of burning crossbolts, it was easy to start making mistakes. The thought of killing the man with his teeth was too poetic to deny, but ended with a bolt to his stomach and his knees meeting the ground with the rest of him swift to follow.

Six seconds of panic. Of pain. Of being assured he'd met his end, his flesh burnt and the bolt in his stomach twisted and deep.

But there it was. A rapturous feeling. A holy light lifting him from edge when it should have been shoving him down, and through the smoke, Astarion met Ronan's burning eye as he healed him with a prayer and a snarl before a morning star to the temple sent the hunter to the ground instead.

He struggled to stand until there was a clawed hand around his arm, pulling him up, patting out whatever was still burning on him. A potion thrust in his hand. An order growled out to the other two they'll be making camp early tonight, followed by a flurry of activity he scant remembers much of besides holding the thing in him still.

The first step is taking out the bolt before the sun is set and a fire is built. He assures Ronan he's been through worse, tells him about it, about who no doubt sent the hunter as the cleric still works efficiently and lays him down. Carefully takes off his burnt armor and clothes for Gale to mend with his magic.

It'd be intimate in any other setting, but prodding claws dipping into the wound to find the barbs of the bolt make it anything but. And when it's time to pull it out, Ronan prepares him, talks him through what will happen, offers to hold his hand.

"You know, despite the face, your bedside manner is impeccable." He teases breathily, looking anywhere but the fist the size of his head grasping the shaft sticking out of him.

It earns him something approximating a grin before the bolt is pulled free in a single motion, a rough palm on his chest keeping him from curling in on himself from the pain. It is tossed elsewhere, Ronan's free hand slapped over the hole in him with another prayer that fills his lungs with air and numbs the hurt, expediting the healing that will happen after he's gotten something to eat.

When he's caught his breath and Ronan has taken his hand away, he sits Astarion up, inspecting smaller wounds. The burns, the cuts, the splinters of wood from the shattered bolts lodged in his skin. With his claws and some tweezers, he pulls them out, inspecting anything bleeding with a practiced eye.

"You don't have to do that, really-"

"Heals better." He says gruffly, brushing him off, contrasting the care with which he extracts another splinter and the gentle way he holds onto Astarion's arm. "You wouldn't want anything stuck in you."

He changes the subject, asks further about Cazador to keep him busy. And busy it does, like a poison being expelled from him. Even the small amount he relays is enough for a different kind of relief, one that's compounded as Ronan assures Astarion he'll watch his back should anyone else sent their way.

Once he's satisfied, Ronan sits back, goes for his bag for any kind of burn relief but Astarion stays him. Assures him he'll be fine after he gets something to eat, shockingly prompting Ronan to ask if he needs help. He points out he's still weak, staring pointedly as Astarion struggles to stay sitting upright, the muscles in his abdomen still freshly mended.

"There is, ah, one way you could help." Astarion says, "A little top up couldn't hurt. I wouldn't take much. Just enough to...speed things along."

He gives Astarion long stare, and for a moment he assumes it'll be another no until there's a clink as he undoes the leather at his wrist, presenting it to Astarion without a word. Doesn't flinch or look away as he bites through the delicate scales found there. Astarion can feel his pulse on his tongue, beating rapid as he watches his blood be taken.

Perhaps he isn't the only one enjoying the moment.

When Ronan pulls away, he is quick to stay the bleeding with a prayer, but Astarion is quicker to snatch his arm back. Lap up whats left and confirm what he's suspecting at the flare of nostrils and the fiery pupils dilating at the sight. He's not as indecipherable as first appears.

"You were going to wipe it away anyways. Why let a good thing go to waste?"

There's that rumbling hum again, a sound he's finding to mean the man is pleased by something. Ronan still stands though, tells him to rest a little more before he goes off hunting. Says he'll keep an eye out for his return.

Astarion watches him leave, lumbering toward Lae'zel to see over her burns and no doubt be told off for the recklessness that got them here. There's still pain, but it's waning under the prayers and the blood on his tongue. He'll get up in a moment, content to lay here, this modicum of safety one to enjoy.

[pokimoko]

5, 10, 20, and 25 for fic in review ask thing!!!

5. What ships captured your heart?

I am a gen writer through and through, so it's a very rare thing to see me writing a ship-focused fic. That said, I really enjoyed the pairing of Karlach and Astarion this year, though I wouldn't say I shipped them necessarily in a romantic sense. The fic I wrote that had them together had their relationship tagged '(it's fairly ambigious; is it romantic? queerplatonic? platonic? yes), (the love and devotion is there regardless)' which I think basically sums up how I view them (and also how aromantic I am about shipping 😅).

I also liked Billford, but in a strictly 'oh yeah they're super divorced, they are never getting back together' kind of way. Not sure if that counts as shipping, but hey, it's definitely counts as something.

10. What fic was the most satisfying to write?

I would have to say either 'The Poetics of Space' (Gravity Falls) or 'On Waxen Wings We Soar, In Spite of Inevitable Ends' (Baldur's Gate 3). They were the two fics I was the most happiest with this year, not only regarding the quality of the writing itself and the themes they explored (the constance of change not only in the world but also ourselves, and finding joy in and making peace with the time you have left), but also how they tied everything together in their conclusions. Both of them equally made me feel a 'wow..I did that' feeling of accomplishment when I finished them, so yeah, they both were absolutely the most satisfying to write.

20. Share your funniest line.

Being more of angst-based writer kinda limits my collection of comedic lines (even my more comedic story this year was extremely angsty), but there was one line I wrote this year that got a couple comments about it making the reader laugh, so I'll go with that one (because if two people found it funny, surely it must be, right):

“You try fixing an interdimensional portal for thirty years without learning physics," (Stanley) said. "I know what quarks are now. Do you know how much I hate knowing what quarks are.”

25. How did you recharge between fics?

Usually I'd spend the first few days after finishing a fic trying to figure out the what the heck to do with the spare time I had previously allocated to writing said fic, and then once I figured that out (and had yet to be overcome with the urge to write something else), I'd probably watch a TV show, read a book, play video games, and do some art. I'm boring like that.

Send me a number!

[hayconrisa]

now that i have a place to talk about it i have to say that. as the resident plane nerd. shusterman did a pretty good job talking about the planes in the graveyard.

but the one thing i can not believe is the fact that the fucking COMBOM is a WORLD WAR 2 BOMBER. SHUSTERMAN. DO YOU KNOW HOW FUCKING TINY THOSE INTERIORS ARE. SIR.???????

i simply can not suspend my disbelief enough to think that a shit ton of computer and radio equipment + a team of like ten kids would fit. into the nose. of a . world war 2 bomber. bro that's just not happening. not even in a b-29. i know those planes look massive but trust me most of the fuselage is for. well. the bombs.

hey shusterman. look at this. do you. did you. um. Think? this is a b-29. the biggest bomber in ww2. do you see that tiny cockpit? and the tiny bunks? there's no way bro.... there's just no way.... even if they stripped the entire thing it's just not built for that kind of shit.

like i get that the plane has to be a bomber bc comBOM but c'mon... it could've just been a cargo plane... an MD-11 or even a fucking converted 767.... this is the one thing that hurts me so bad and IT'S HAYDEN'S WHOLE DEAL TOO AND IT JUST DOESN'T MAKE SENSE. GOD THE AUTISM. WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE

[lijeuxs]

me: "why did i see the word alpha, are you writing omegaverse fanfic?"

mum: "no"

totally normal conversation to have with your totally normal mother

[ouellette]

9 year old me was so real for fantasizing about andy biersack every night before i passed out