#late ask games answered

[grogusmum]

For the ask game: 🍊🍑🍍

My sweet jennibean! You gave me this ages ago, and I've just been all go go go getting ready for the house going on the market and just couldn't do anything that really took the thinking of thoughts... anyway, I'm sorry. I said, "Play with me and then, like, fell asleep or something!

Boy oh boy this got long (because of the second question)

lemme put the rest under the cut

🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo…)

Hmmm, well, I've only written a little something for Jack, Joel, and Dieter, and I definitely have more ideas for them.

Jack is the one I feel like I've tried a couple of times and didn't get very far. I really would like to expand the idea of the linked imagine.

🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work? It's funny that you chose this question, because I was just talking to. Adira about a and old YA book I loved growing I'd love to AU or Crossover or something.

I might slightly misinterpreting it, but I don't care because I wanna talk about this, lol!!

Anyway, growing up in the late Mesozoic, there was a YA series (that would never be considered YA today), which is more like a collection of supernatural stories with high-school age protagonists usually girls, there is usually some love interest in the mix, and uh oh a ghost! Or a possessed doll! Or in this instance a cursed deck of tarot cards.

In the story Bonnie goes to visit her gran in Boston (what?) and goes up to the attic to revisit where she used to play Pirate when she lived with her, the games involved and old sea chest, which she discovers has a false bottom, and it is a pack of ancient looking tarot cards wrapped in leather and next is what looks like a human finger bone. She becomes obsessed by them and sneaks them out of her grans attic and brings them home, so starts the story... my thought is instead of a teen Bonnie or perhaps reader is an adult who is helping clean out her grans house or inherits it and with the same backstory, etc. finds the cards in the attic and so on. I am trying to decide the Pedro Boy piece, I am thinking that maybe different P boys will be the different cards, the Fool, the Magician etc and one will be her partner...anyway I'm going to reread the book and see what's what (I'm a little scared I won't like as much as I did)

🍍 What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with?

Oh I love a good AU, i have a pretty open mind, if it's well done, I am in!!

I don't really have hatred or beef, but maybe there are some standard ones I don't know about or aren't thinking of because they aren't prevalent in my little corner of the Pedro Fandom... there are some I'm not interested in generally speaking, like "in college" for example.

[whilomm]

oh okay heres one:

"sleepaway camp"= you go there for at least a few days, a week, sometimes several weeks, and sleep there, as opposed to a """camp""" where you go for the day and your parents or whoever picks you up afterward (those arent really camps, but like. idk when i went to "space camp" it was a weeklong but not sleepaway). in the U.S. at least, the typical image of a sleepaway camp involves staying in cabins, dunno how common it is/what it looks like in other countries.

for the first few i just mean like. not necessarily a stealth church camp, just like. idk, a camp where theres also an Assumption Of Christianity and just general vibes without being actually church camp. So, there might not be daily services and jesusy dedicatwd activities, but maybe theres still a prayer said over meals and shit. Which i assume might exist...

(oh and @reblogforsamplesize if u wanna)

[zu-is-here]

make teleshopping great again ♪

[luck-of-the-drawings]

"I think this is the most inhuman; and human, that I've ever felt.." MUCH CAN HAPPEN IN A YEAR. IN FIVE YEARS. A DECADE. imagine how much can happen in a century. just ONE (1). How will you grow? what phases do you find? even in 5 years, you will find patterns.

[blushweddinggowns]

"You look stupid as all hell right now."

"You look stupid as all hell right now," Mike snorted as he watched Robin touch up Steve's eyeliner, "You know that right?"

"It's called romance, you ass," Steve hissed, flipping him off while dutifully keeping his head still, "Who invited you anyway?"

"Your better half."

Steve rolled his eyes but he didn't correct him. He was right anyway, "Isn't it a school night? Are you allowed to be out this late? What would your mom think, knowing you were wasting your precious brain power on Halloween parties-"

"I'm in college you fucking dick!"

That struck a nerve. Steve smirked, good. The little shit deserved it.

"And done!" Robin announced before either of them could throw anymore insults, "I think you look good, way sexier than Tim Curry, for sure. Mike come with me to go get Nancy for a second opinion. You obviously can't be trusted."

Mike huffed, mumbling something under his breath before both of them left the room. Steve was pretty damn sure Eddie had sent him in as a spy because despite all of his reassurances, he still didn't believe that Steve was going to follow through on this stupid costume. But here he was, adjusting his fish net stockings while examining himself in the mirror.

He looked...decent. Which was better than he had been expecting. The make-up wasn't as cartoonish as the movie, something that he hoped Eddie would appreciate. In all honesty, Steve was going to take no criticisms for how he put the whole thing together, Eddie was lucky it was happening at all. Not that he would but still. Though if Steve had to guess, Eddie was going to be a fan. He better fucking be a fan, considering how he'd been asking for this forever.

They'd been together five years. Five fantastic, wonderful years. And four Halloweens with Steve laughing in his face whenever he brought up the Rocky Horror Picture show as costume inspiration. But this year...Steve didn't know. Eddie had just looked...extra desperate this time, needy in a way that Steve just couldn't say no to.

So now here he was, moments away from going downstairs to entertain all of their new and old friends for hours on end, all while wearing a corset.

The things he did for love.

"Knock, knock," Eddie's voice called from the other side of the door, like he could just smell that Steve was alone, "You decent in there Stevie?"

"Not exactly?" Steve called back, still frowning in the mirror, "But you can come in. Just lock it behind you."

Steve didn't look up when Eddie waltzed in, but he did hear his little sharp intake of breath.

"Holy shit," Eddie mumbled, bordering on a whimper as he came up behind Steve. He wrapped his arms around his waist, locking eyes with him through the mirror, "You look..."

"Stupid as hell?" Steve answered for him, smiling a little at how flushed Eddie's face already was. Damn, maybe this thing wasn't that bad after all if it could make him look like that.

Eddie shook his head, swallowing once before breathing out, "I was going to say beautiful. Gorgeous. Breath-taking. Extremely attractive-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Steve laughed, turning around in his arms. He wrapped them around Eddie's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss, "I'm glad you like it so much. In fact, I'll even let you take it off later tonight."

Steve thought that would have been a good deal, but it made Eddie frown, "Later? But we can-"

"We can what?" Steve interrupted, "Have sex with all of our adopted children downstairs waiting for us? I don't think so."

But Eddie wasn't done begging. He was even starting to bring out the wet, puppy dog eyes, the manipulative little shit, "B-But I can be quick. I can fix your make-up after. I can-"

"Nope," Steve laughed, pulling away from him with a little smirk, "You made your bed. Now lie in it."

Eddie nearly looked like he was gonna cry, the little drama queen, "I...I didn't think this through, did I?"

Steve grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek before going to the door. He looked back at him, his smile getting a little bigger at the desperate look on his face.

Maybe he did look like an idiot in the bizarre get-up, but Steve didn't care. Not when it had Eddie rushing to follow him out.

[fatuismooches]

Happy two-year anniversary to this blog, fatuismooches 🫶 I would like to thank you all for the love and support you've given me over these two years, and I hope to continue writing for as long as I can ❤️

[venomous-qwille]

Absolutely in love with your recent art of Sanii in the weekly magma! <3 His pose, the limited palette, his expression, everything is just so AAAAAAA I'm in love! >.< I don't even know Sanii's personality yet but I've become attached to him! :')

Thankyou~

[its-all-papaya]

can we get a lestappen or a landoscar + 13? maybe after waiting for a long time? or after one of them thought the other had been injured? 👀

heyyyyyy bestie anon, I come with gift ! it didn't end up that desperate, but I started in a direction and loved it too much to abandon, so if you want, I'll write that injury landoscar for you down the road as an apology.

other disclaimers include: I do not speak any of these languages & I am not remarkably well-versed in lestappen lore. ALLLLL that being said, I am quite fond of this one.

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

13. desperately | lestappen | ~800

Charles thinks he’s been in love with Max since before he knew the word for it. He had amour and he had amore, but Max had neither of those. And by the time they both had love, there were too many other words between them in all their varied languages, a mess of translations.

Because before Charles had love, he had colère, fighting back from P7 after Max edged him off the track in France. There was envie, watching his childhood rival slide into the seat of an F1 car through the screen of his laptop, balanced on his knees where he sat on the floor of his bedroom. With Ferrari, there was frustrazione from the garage as Charles watched Max take the chequered flag in front of a backdrop that he’d been looking at for 23 years. It was Charles’ view before Max knew it existed, and that was devastazione, heartbreak.

(Charles knows now that for Max, before there was love, there was pijn and there was snelheid and there was very little else.)

He’s known how to battle Max since before he knew English. He learned how it felt to overtake Max on track before he learned how to fit his mouth around the word - ‘overtake.’ Before he knew disappointment, before he knew victory, he knew déception, watching Max beat him and la victoire, beating Max.

In all of Charles’ memories, in each of his milestones, Max is there. In the pits, on the podium, thighs pressed together in the curve of the couch. For as far back as his memory extends, there has been racing boots and rubber, and around the apex of every turn, always there is Max.

Seven months after that afternoon in Monaco, Charles watches Max take the top step of a podium for the tenth time in a year and the hundredth time in his memory. He looks up at the boy he’s been battling nearly all his life and it’s the first time he’s seen him and thought fierté, proud.

Somewhere between that night in Abu Dhabi and two and a half years later in Imola, though, the weight of the world has switched shoulders. Charles has never been unburdened in F1, has never been light (if he’s allowed for a moment to be maudlin, he’ll admit he doesn’t know anybody who’s donned rosso corsa and come out the other side without an ache in their bones from the weight of it), but that has always been just another thing he shares with Max. He’s been comparing them one to the other for so long that it has become a part of his every weekend, like strapping his helmet, like saying his prayers. Max has never been soft, but his success has settled his fury, and when they interact now – more than ever – often he is doux, gentle. There are three World Championships between them and enough points that Charles doesn’t bother counting. He should look up the grid and feel jalousie, but instead he looks up from P3 through a mist of champagne and realizes the feeling (next to his motivation) is friand, fond.

Every weekend there is Max, and every summer there is Monaco. They occupy adjacent places in Charles’ chest: constant like racing, glittering like trophies. Always what he is chasing, always out of reach.

Only this summer, impossibly, there is no devastazione. There is no frustrazione. There is just vittoria, euforia, victory in Monaco.

He’s won, and it’s not a Championship but for now, for today, he can’t imagine winning anything that would matter more. Fresh out of the harbor, the Monégasque salt still stinging in his eyes, he thinks of every kilometer he’s ever driven, every podium he’s ever stood on, every moment he’s spent fighting for this, and always, toujours, sempre the person beside him. Monaco is Formula 1 and Monaco is home – a pair of associations that belong to the streets of Monte Carlo and only one other thing.

The champagne is sparkling in his bloodstream when he returns to the paddock, but it dims in comparison to the feeling he gets when he meets Max’s eyes. It is nothing to run to him and it is everything to reach him.

Max whispers words and they are English, but they could be any language and Charles would still understand. It is Abu Dhabi, it is Val D’Argenton, it is Monaco in Max’s gaze when his arms fit tightly around Charles. When Charles kisses Max, there are no words left. It’s desperation, it’s passion, it’s two decades in the making. It’s wet with Charles’ tears – relief like a victory lap – and it’s amour, amore. Charles’ hands bracket a face he’s spent his whole life watching and his mouth slides against a mouth he’s loved since before it could even speak to him. It is a long time until they part.

Charles thinks enfin, finally, and pour toujours, forever.

[tag-if]

Progress Report;

FEB 2024 - MARCH 2024;

Hello all!

Took a sort of accidental hiatus for the month (I was still on tumblr, I just wasn't posting), just to make sure my busy schedule didn't overwhelm me.

However! That does mean I've got quite a bit of work done, both for university and tag :)

You won't be getting a 'done' and 'to-do' list this time, since it's mostly been admin and editing, but I will say that the chapter one update for tag will be coming out this month.

I'm hesitant to give a more specific date this early on, but I'll reblog this post with something more specific once I know.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Are you still taking prompts for the sleepy time ask game? Can you do 17 & 40 for Curtis & Honey??

Thank you so much for sending this ask, I am so sorry its late babes. I hope you like this little drabble.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

You were close to finishing, your pen tapping against your cheek as you glanced at the old clock ticking away in Curtis's kitchen. Twelve A.M.

Curtis had gone to bed a couple hours ago, saying that he was absolutely beat and needed to sleep before his shift tomorrow. With an affectionate kiss to your jawline while you muttered that you would be up soon.

Soon never came and your essays were still piled up, needing to graded. Your kids worked so hard on them and you had assured them that they would be ready by the end of the week. End of the week was almost here and you weren't even half way through them.

Your head dropped to the table, letting your eyes close. "Just five minutes." You mutter to yourself.

"Honey?"Curtis's deep voice cut into your five minutes, making you blink with a sleepy groan. "Baby, you're done for tonight. Come on up." His hand swept over your shoulder while rubbing against the back of your neck.

"Can't." You say around a yawn while pushing back up to a sit, gasping to yourself when you saw that you drooled on the table, very quickly wiping at your mouth.

"Can't? Honey it's two in the morning and you gotta be out of here by seven." His hand felt good massaging the back of your neck that you relaxed into it with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Got these. too much, end of the week." Sentences were too hard to form right now. Curtis chuckled above you, his hand moving to cup your chin and tilt you to look up at him.

“You’re so cute when you’re tired and speaking in half-sentences Honey." You gave a little dreamy smile up at him, your eyes fluttering closed. He felt good, like you would sink into him.

"Cute enough to continue what I gotta do?"

"No." He said a bit sternly and that made you give a bit of a pout.

"But I-"

“I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep.” Curtis rumbled out.

"You wouldn't." As soon as the words spilled out, his blue eyes flashed at the challenge and he moved like he was gonna, making you squeal out quickly. "Im coming! Right now." You went to gather everything and he caught your hands, tugging you out of the chair and into his arms.

Yeah, that felt good. You let yourself sink in against his chest with a hum of relent. "That can wait Honey, come on."

You fell asleep as soon as Curtis had you spooned in bed. The next morning, your alarm jarred you awake, seeing that Curtis had already left.

Making your way downstairs for coffee, bypassing the kitchen table, your scattered mess was now all neatly organized, everything in place and your huge pile, half the size as Curtis had worked on grading a few for you.

A note was left on top of the nearly finished pile-

Honey, I will help you finish these tonight. Between the two of us, we can have them ready for you Friday. But Friday night, you're mine Pretty Girl. Love you ~ Curtis

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Guardian Neil please :))

WIP Wednesday (9/4) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 230)

"For your pocket." Andrew says, jabbing a finger towards the bottom of Neil's hoodie. The angel's eyes flick down before settling back on Andrew's. There's a strange look on Neil's face, but Andrew just shrugs at it. "I wouldn't want you to start dropping your treats again."

"My treats?" Neil asks, amused. Andrew nods then makes a show of patting each pocket of his cargo pants before finally settling on one. (It's theatrical. He knows what he's looking for.) He pulls out a candy bar and slides it over to Neil conspiratorially. The angel picks it up and gives it a look. "What's this?"

How predictable, acting like he can't read.

"Peanuts and caramel," Andrew drawls. "No chocolate at all. Figured you might like it."

"Thanks." Neil says, looking bewildered and holding his two ridiculously simple gifts in each hand like he isn't sure what to do with either. Andrew would hate to completely overwhelm him, but he's not finished yet.

"How foolish of me," Andrew says, thwacking himself in the forehead. He goes for a different pocket and comes back with the gum and the small bag of chips. After dumping them unceremoniously between them, Andrew pulls the bottle of water over and adds it to his pile of offerings. "These are yours too."

Neil stares down at the pile for a moment before raising his head. "You remembered I liked Doritos?"

'Of course,' Andrew nearly says. Neil told him that ages ago, in passing. He catches himself and shrugs instead. "Everyone likes Doritos."

"Kevin doesn't."

"Kevin doesn't like anything," Andrew says. Neil laughs but continues to stare down at his little mound of items like they're going to disappear. "Eat or sew, angel."

Neil eats.

He starts with the candy bar, eating it slowly. Like he's trying to savor it. That bit of control evaporates when he opens the Doritos. He devours them in about nineteen seconds and downs half the water bottle in two gulps. It almost makes Andrew feel guilty. Knowing he could've been taking care of Neil like this since they met. But Neil's an angel, not a hamster, and he looks nothing but grateful as he dusts his hands off and picks up the chewing gum.

"Strawberry-Kiwi." He reads from the packaging, turning it over in his hands.

"It was the only fruity gum they carried. And I did ask, but they didn't have a gigantic bucket of mangoes and peaches either."

Neil smiles. "I like strawberries. Dunno if I've ever had a kiwi before."

"They're gross. Furry little things. And they're filled with seeds that you have to eat around. Unappealing is an understatement." Andrew says with a grimace. He's polished off his first candy bar and had a few sips of his energy drink. What a shame Kevin isn't here to witness it.

Andrew rips the second Snickers open and takes a small bite. (He's a bit weird in his eating habits, he knows. Fun size candy bars he'll pop into his mouth like they're nothing. Full sized ones take a bite of time.) He stares out at traffic as he works his way down it. Then shoves the wrappers into his pocket.

When Andrew looks back over at Neil, he finds the angel threading a needle. Or attempting to. He looks so stupidly cute, tongue poking out and brow furrowed in concentration. Finally, he has success. Neil flips the bottom of his hoodie up and hunches over to start stitching it back together.

[sincerely-sofie]

we welcome you to unite! (just don't pick speedster thats my role 😤😤😤)

My friend this image is the penultimate reason I finally downloaded Pokemon Unite. You have given me a gift I will not soon forget. Thank you.

[forecast0ctopus]

I talked about Marty McFly a few times on a trip and my friend was like wow... you really like Marty McFly and it made me think of your art of him which I love very much :D

me 🤝 you

really liking marty mcfly

and thanks :D i love drawing that guy sm….

[kangofu-cb]

fic author Never Have I Ever ask game:

Gundam Wing Winterhawk AU

So apparently I have done this whole 'queue an ask game' thing more than once :-|

Send me an ask about whether I’ve written a thing [ship, trope, dynamic, category of fandom, etc.] and if I’ve written it, I’ll link you. If I haven’t written it, I’ll tell you how I would write it if I did.

This is absolutely hilarious to me, because first of all - you're making my revisit past sins. Thanks for that LOL. I obviously have never written a GW WH AU, nor will I ever do so. The source material is just like... so wildly different.

But I guess if I were gonna give Winterhawk giant mecha robots with which to fight for interspace colonial freedom, I'd have to give Bucky Heavyarms because like - guns. Just. So many fucking guns. That mecha never made a damn bit of sense guys, WHERE did he get the ammunition. Also it did have a mecha-sized army knife. So yeah, Heavyarms for Bucky.

(This was a tough choice though because the original pilot was an orphaned circus kid, so like. You see my difficulty here.)

Which obviously means that I have to figure something else out for Clint, and like, unfortunately none of the Gundams had a bow (at least, not in Gundam Wing). So. I've decided he gets to have Deathscythe, mainly because fighting with a giant energy beam scythe is like. The stupidest thing I have ever heard of, but also it looks so badass? And the original pilot put on a laughing, jokester personality that masked some seriously badass skills and also a terrible childhood, so that fits you know? Seemingly outdated weaponry that somehow manages to be extremely effective while play-acting as an idiot? Yeah. That's where we're at.

Thanks for asking me!!!

(PS @claraxbarton thoughts welcome XD)

[caluupin]

been catching up on TGAA/DGS !! :D

[ennard-is-near]

17, 18, 22?

Omg you picked the coolest ones! Yippee!!!

17. There should be more of this type of fic/art?

Okay this is super specific but Time Travel Fix-It fics where the Michael specifically goes back in time and makes the wackest decision possible right off the bat. Like ones where instead of vowing to be better he immediately gets a gun and kills William. Or he just breaks the window to his bedroom and runs away from his house without even packing or anything. I’ve seen both of these and I really enjoyed them a lot.

I also loveeeeee when a character who isn’t the narrator is the time-traveler. So for example a story where Michael is very obviously a time-traveler but Henry is narrating. So from Henry’s point of view this kid is now an entirely new person. Bonus points if Michael makes the most insane decisions imaginable. More Bonus points if Henry is trying to figure out what the fuck is going on but is obviously wrong because how would he know.

18. It's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...?

Ennard. I know, I talk about them so much that some people click on this blog assuming it’s an Ennard roleplay account, but I think their voice mimicking thing in particular is so cool. I recently made a post about Ennard failing to do Michael’s voice around his neighbors because they’ve never heard it, which I think is awesome. But also just the idea of this weird, angry and desperate soul amalgamation trying to pretend to be a guy is fascinating. I feel like a lot of portrayals of it tend to fall short of the mark in a way I can’t quite put my finger on. But Ennard is absolutely slept on for the abilities that make them super cool.

Also Springtrap in the room!!! What was he up to?? I feel like he would go so insane and get so weird and lonely. I feel like depictions of the animatronics (and Michael if you’re feeling silly) as more weird and scared is slept on a little. To be fair, it’s not exactly canon, but I think it’s a neat depiction of them that isn’t utilized all that often.

Another one that slept on is the nightmares, because they only appear when the FNaF four kid is sleeping. 👍

22. Your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores?

The Sister Location secret night. I talk about this all the time but that one line “I know it was an accident.” At 5am in Elizabeth’s voice SENDS ME absolutely spiraling and yelling. I think that Ennard slowly pulling out all the stops and saying and doing things that are more personal to Michael. It not only tells me that Elizabeth/Baby at least was lying about not recognizing Michael but is also willing to absolutely traumatize him. Oh my word imagine being Michael in that situation!!!!!