#Inbox Game

[mottinthemainpot]

~🎹▪️Music Ask Game▪️🎹~

What's a song you enjoy from a genre you don’t usually listen to?

What's a song you don’t enjoy from one of your favourite bands? What doesn’t work for you?

Song that reminds you of a loved one? (Parents, grandparents, friends, lovers, ect.)

What's a song that you think deserves more love?

Go to song when you’re sad?

Go to song when you’re energetic?

Go to song when you need to relax, study, or focus?

What's a song you enjoy from a show?

What's an overly popular song that you still love?

Song you loved as a child?

Song that’s made you cry?

Do you own any band merch? If so, what is it?

One of your most listened to songs of all time?

What’s a song or band you’re currently obsessed with or listen to the most?

What’s a song in a different language (that you don’t speak) that you enjoy?

Share a random song from your playlist

Share a song that starts with the first letter of your username

Is there a Song/Artist you’re shy to share with people? If so what is it, and why?

Favourite song to sing at karaoke or just sing along to?

Is there a song or band that you can’t stand? (Respectfully)

What's a song you always get stuck in your head?

What’s a song you’ve listened to on repeat?

What's the last song you liked/added to your general playlist?

[popfizzles]

Animal Crossing Reactions Expression Meme!! (New Horizons Edition)

The original I used to use was made with the New Leaf emotes, and I haven't been able to find one with the NH reactions, so I took it upon myself to make an updated version!

Send an expression and a character and I will draw them doing that reaction! Feel free to reblog as well!!

[original here] by @learntheart

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Please go into my inbox to psycho-analyze me like one of those long video essays about cartoons and tv shows....

[sincerelylancelot]

∆ DO OVER - flowers :knife:

Not quite a do over but an additional, for all of you libra's that need some justice for Lando. mwah !!

( additional snippet for from my body, flowers shall grow )

---

It has been four months and eight days since Lando when Oscar sees him again.

He’s sitting on a train bound for King’s Cross, the grey chill of the Edinburgh morning still lingering in his bones. The rhythmic roll of the carriage threatens to pull him into a doze when something catches his eye. A woman across from him has a newspaper folded over to the crossword section, the broadsheet crinkled at the edges. It’s only by chance that his gaze flickers to the half-visible image on the front page.

Oscar tilts his head, straining for a clearer view, and his stomach twists when he confirms what he’s seeing.

Staring back at him in black and white is Carlos Sainz Jr. He’s dressed in a suit, but his hands are cuffed behind his back. The bold, capitalised headline beneath the grainy photograph reads: "Son of Santander Banking CEO Extradited to Australia to Await Trial." The rest of the story is cut off, swallowed by the crease of the page.

A sharp wave of nausea rolls through him, sudden and unrelenting. His throat tightens as he swallows against it, but a strangled cough forces its way out anyway. The noise draws the attention of a girl across the aisle, her gaze flickers to him, sympathy evident in her expression, though she subtly shifts further away.

Oscar forces a weak smile in return, cheeks flaring with embarrassment as he fumbles for his phone. His fingers are stiff, clumsy against the fabric of his pocket. The E-SIM signal is weak, flickering in and out. They’re still deep in the British countryside, surrounded by patchy service and the tip-tap of rain against the carriage windows.

He exhales sharply, tapping at the screen as if that might help. Fuck.

There are still four hours before they’ll pull into London, but the gnaw of unanswered anxiety is clawing its way up his throat like hysteria. He clears his throat again, apparently enough for the girl to get up and move seats, before leaning forward and trying to catch the older woman’s attention.

“Hey, uh, do you mind if I see the front page?”

She eyes him, gaze flicking from his accent to the windburn on his cheeks, then to the slight green around his gills before she offers a soft smile.

“Oh, of course, darling.”

Her voice is a gentle Scottish lilt, so unlike Lando’s that Oscar is silently grateful that it doesn’t shatter the last of his nerves.

The broadsheet crinkles as she pulls away the necessary pages, glancing over the article before passing it to him with a quiet tut.

“Truly a tragedy, that one. Seemed like such a lovely boy.”

When Oscar flattens out the paper, Lando’s face stares up at him from the corner.  He blinks rapidly, willing the tightness in his chest to subside, forcing down the sob that clogs his throat.

Underneath the headline outlines everything Oscar already knew and more. How anonymous submitted evidence had linked Carlos to the mysterious death of Lando Norris, beloved son to one of the UK’s wealthiest families. There’s a photo of Lando and his siblings, and then one of the sisters from after, their eyes sad and sunken. 

"Carlos Sainz Jr. will be extradited to Australia to stand trial before the Supreme Court of New South Wales on June 22. Both UK and Spanish authorities have denied bail, citing significant flight risk. Legal experts suggest a conviction could carry a life sentence under Australian law."

Oscar grips the edges of the paper so tightly that the ink smudges beneath his fingertips. The world outside the train blurs into muted greens and greys, but all he can see is Lando; his smile, his laugh, the warmth of him.

And then Carlos. Bound in chains.

Somehow it still doesn’t feel like enough.

[goremojiz]

Hey, btw im accepting any and all trick or treaters in my inbox this month, but ONLY if u give me a description of what imaginary costume you're wearing

It'll be a game. If you say trick or treat and describe your imaginary costume, I'll flip a coin for a trick or a treat, treat = drawing, trick = anything else i desire

Happy october

[002yb]

Cats and trapped for the wip please?

A recluse has no right to be this damn smug about anything, yet here he is:  needle and thread in hand, snickering to himself as he hand stitches the last seam on a project he’s been working and reworking for an embarrassing amount of time.  As far as hobbies go, he’s aware that this one is downright shameful; an actual embarrassment.  It’s only fitting for the black sheep of the family though.  It’s self-conscious coping at its finest, but Jason jokes with himself about leaning into the fucked up social leper rumor that’s been circulating about him for some time now.  It is what it is, right?  All of Gotham has their theories about the prodigal Wayne son.  Little do they know that the truth is so much worse. The family cat lays across his desk, lazily pawing at a needle cushion until the sun slanting in through the window beside them draws them into a doze.  They purr contentedly as Jason works, comfortable with what’s become a routine of peaceful calm because most days this is all there is. This is it. Because Jason hasn’t left the safety of the manor in over a year.  Because there are some days where Jason can’t even step past the threshold of his own room.  Because sometimes it’s all he can do to get out of his fucking bed without slipping into a catatonic episode of derealization from lingering trauma. (Sometimes Jason is still in that basement, the laughter of a mad man echoing off cold walls; the drag of metal on concrete scraping closer, closer).

Cat!Tailor AU (no capes). Where Jason becomes a recluse as a result of Joker induced trauma. He passes the time with a secret hobby of tailoring clothes for the house cat - Alfred.

Trapped under cut!

“Enough.” It’s an alpha’s command, but Jason fights the compulsion to obey.  It prickles painfully at the base of his skull, smothering him as he lashes out at the League's assassins with vicious kicks and a snapping maw.  Jason keeps Damian held close to his chest, thrown into a frenzy when the pup goes lax in his hold.  It’s a dangerous game to bare his teeth at any alpha, let alone the Demon’s Head, but Jason’s upper lip lifts as he snarls, knees knocking beneath the strain of ignoring a command and growling a pitiful thing with his strained throat. Ra’s al Ghul is not threatened by anyone though, least of all an omega of Jason’s pedigree.  There’s scorn in the cold glint of his eye and he commands again, “Kneel.” Everyone kneels. Jason forces himself to stand.  Even when his weaker leg gives out, Jason pushes himself back up and meets Ra’s al Ghul’s gaze directly.  An alpha’s purpose might be to conquer and provide, but omegas are not lesser or weaker.  Omegas protect and damn anyone who tries to challenge them. “Kneel.” Ra’s commands once more and this time even the obedient shadows choke on the force of the compulsion. Something primal and inhuman tears from Jason’s throat, his legs buckling and bringing him to his knees.  He pitches forward to prostrate himself, body curled protectively over Damian’s. There is no sound when Ra’s approaches him, but Jason can feel the man’s staggering and stifling presence.  It bears down on him and although Jason tries to protest the forced subjugation, he can’t.  It’s all he can do to hold onto Damian as the League assassins pull Jason upright, as they try to steal the pup from his arms.  An angry and territorial rumble sounds from deep in his chest that has Ra’s lifting his chin with contempt at the challenge to his authority. The disobedience has his heart palpitating uncomfortably in his chest.  Ra’s takes Jason’s chin roughly in his hand, his grip harsh enough that Jason has to bite back a yip as the man’s nails dig into the supple skin of Jason’s cheeks.  The alpha tilts Jason’s head so that their eyes can meet and Jason does so with a glare. “Omega.” Ra’s says, contradictorily impressed and disparaging. Jason breathes harshly through his nose, jaw clenched.  The alpha’s eyes flick down–an appraisal, a condemning judgment–before they return to hold Jason’s gaze.

AU where Jason tries to kidnap Damian from the League, but doesn't make it far at all before Ra's tracks him down. Very dead dove, very whump hahaha. Basically Jason gets thrown in a pit of the non-Lazarus variety and endures some trauma until he goes a bit feral and massacres his way out of the League.

It gets him in the same situation as before w/ Ra's & Talia tracking him down, only this time -- Jason (w/ little Damian), make it into the nearest city where they run into Renegade!Dick <- a development that happened soon after Jason's 'death'. And yes, pack dynamics ft Slade, Dick, Jason + Damian. //3//

[faetfuldesigns]

𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘

adjust as needed when sending. they are split up into two general categories, however, some were hard to categorize so a few serious ones might still be comical. quotes are from and assortment of characters from the first three games

𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

great, we have a dog now and [ name ] is still the dumbest one in the party.

can i get you a ladder, so you can get off my back?

i don't think 'sense' is really my strong suit.

don't worry. helping people and killing people are what i'm best at.

there were so many wonderful hats!

you answered the death of your clan... with a goat?

you should pay someone else. like me. i like being paid.

i'll only wear dresses that are absolutely festooned with ruffles!

well, put me in a dress and call me a templar!

when in doubt, run away and let me handle this.

you stole cookies from a child?

andraste's flaming sword, i know where babies come from!

you know, if you squint, lake calenhad is shaped like a bunny.

i have an excellent sense of dramatic timing. and good hair.

that does ring a bell. hard to remember... i've killed so many things.

i'll have to remember to use that. "a demon made me do it!"

if this is the afterlife, the chantry owes me an apology. this looks nothing like the maker's bosom.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

they even killed his dog, [ name ]. his dog! you know how important those are to fereldens!

magic can kill. knives can kill. even small children, flung at high speeds, can kill

mages in glass houses shouldn't throw fireballs.

men are always willing to believe two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive.

that's because it's a poultice, sir. you're not supposed to drink it.

right, this is where we're all shocked to discover you've never had a friend your entire life.

our mistakes make us who we are.

let us show them our hearts, and then show them theirs.

you forget, [ name ], i am not without my own pointy ends, as well.

do not make promises you cannot keep.

beg that i succeed, for i have seen the throne of the gods and it was empty.

i would treasure the chance to be wrong once again, my friend

it's dangerous when too many men in the same armor think they're right.

it gets no easier. your struggles have only just begun.

get rid of one threat and another appears. i'm starting to think this city's in love with crisis.

[renmackree]

alright let’s try this. sterek #34. …to pretend.

send a ship and a number, get a kiss || Open

34. …to pretend.

Derek watched Stiles pace the floor of the loft, his face looked like he had been up all night thinking about whatever this was. Knowing him, he probably had.

"Are you going to say anything or just burn holes in my floor?"

Stiles stopped pacing and glared at Derek for a moment, but there was no heat behind the look. In fact, despite Stiles trying to control his emotions, Derek could smell anxiety rising from him. His chemo signals were stronger than they had been in a long time.

"You remember I'm in the FBI, right?"

"I don't think I could forget it if I tried." Derek crossed his arms and leaned back against the table while trying to understand why Stiles repeating his job would keep him up.

"Right. That's why I need your help. That mission we did in North Carolina, I may have stretched the truth on our relation so I could get on the task force."

Derek adjusted a little, tilting his head. "Did you say we were brothers?"

"It rhymes with brothers." Stiles snapped his fingers in Derek's direction and sighed. "I need you to come to a banquet."

"Can't you just say I'm busy?"

"I have for the last three years. But my head of the department is really a bastard and said if you don't show up, I might not be getting my promotion. So I said yes?"

Derek sighed, running a hand over his face. Here he was trying to get over Stiles and the man just kept pulling him in. It was like his mother always said. Never love an Anchor.

"Fine. What do I have to do?"

Stiles' eyes lit up and he moved to step closer. Derek felt him press against his shoulder and hold his phone up "I just need a picture for my desk. Eyes closed, wolfie." Derek watched the countdown of the camera, letting a thought run through his mind. Without thinking too hard about it, he closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss Stiles' cheek as the camera went off.

At least he'd go down swinging.

[sephirthoughts]

For the platonic ship ask: How about Tsung and Reeve with these ones?

-who is more often the shoulder to cry on? -favourite thing to do when they hang out? -how do they make each other laugh? -the song they jam out together?

You don't have to do all of them, but I though these, except for the crying one, where the silliest ones. (They deserve to be silly and whimsical at times.) ^^'

thank you for the ask! sorry, it's taking me forever to get to them! 🖤

-who is more often the shoulder to cry on?

tseng. though, honestly, he'd wind up being more of shoulder to sleep on

-favourite thing to do when they hang out?

netflix and...reeve falls asleep within six minutes and then tseng gets to switch over from the gritty courtroom drama they had on and watch little witch academia (or other adorable shoujo anime)

-how do they make each other laugh?

tseng doesn't laugh, per se, but he makes this "hm" sound that reeve knows counts as a laugh. to make him do that, he tells him dad jokes. tseng loves dad jokes. to get reeve to laugh, tseng shows him security camera footage of scarlett tripping and rolling down four flights of stairs, whereupon she slams into heidegger and finally stops. it never gets old

-the song they jam out together?

tseng plays guqin (the most relaxing instrument on the planet) and reeve tries not to fall asleep to it. at their ages, that counts as jamming out

[mistystarshine]

alright. permission to be a hater. let's hear 14

DIRECTED AT ME. SPECIFICALLY.

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

"You write like Tolkien and need to try to write more like J.K. Rowling."

[feytouched]

happy new year! 🍾🥂✨ let's have an inbox party to celebrate! send me asks / tell me all about

what you're looking forward to in 2025

your resolutions if you made any

your proudest accomplishments / fondest memories from 2024

fav book(s) from 2024

fav perfume(s) from 2024

what's your vibe/vision going into the new year

how you celebrated the holidays

etc.... !!

[anangelcalledinquisitor]

Let's spread some love! If you get this list something or somethings that made you smile this week and tag 5 people you love seeing on your dash! (if you want to, no obligation)

~❤️

I've been having a tough few weeks and this made me feel better, thank you!

the customers who made me laugh and enjoying the last week! Most of my customers have actually been very kind! the ones that weren't were just not going to be happy no matter what...

My wife reading to me, I love hearing her voice and I find myself smiling in my sleep when she's reading to me, that's how much I love her.

My cats learning what the Churu container being out means. Boya is like a hangry toddler if that stuff comes out...

My duckies in the Daycare Server, they've been such sweeties keeping me from losing my mind.

I love to see my wife @zaidnovi and my friends @cero-sleep and @dgcakes and @dragoncxv360 and @blossomgalaxy and @meeludrawz and @celtyskitty and @shirajellyfish and @qteapie-em and @queenofthegraceless and @kitsvoidcorner and @sleepyjuniper and @sleepykas and @naffeclipse and @icedmetaltea and ... I could go on and on.... I know I picked way more than five but you guys are all such awesome friends and I love seeing you around on my dash and in my messages and everything!

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Heya Guys, I got a pretty fun idea for an inbox game/prompt for you guys to send over to me:

How would I and the 9 Mercs from TF2 get along? How would our dynamics be? Are some of us friends, acquaintances, crush, Hell, Maybe even see me as family? (I esp wanna learn this with how me and Spy would get along specifically)

Please please PLEASE send these in I'm BEGGING to know, I NEED to know!

Hope to see what y'all can come up with!!

[sincerelylancelot]

✄ DVD BONUS: pick a fic and I’ll describe or write a deleted scene! for swipe the key (come inside)

this was meant to be funnier and somehow it ended up kinda sad... oops

[ post-fic snippet from swipe the key (come inside) ]

“Osc.”

“Osc… Oscar…”

Lando’s voice cuts through the haze, but it takes a second for it to register.

“Mate, are you even listening to me right now?”

“What?”

The white noise of the crowd filters in, rising and falling in fits and starts. There’s yellow and green confetti stuck to the champagne-tacky skin of his cheeks, and Lando is staring at him from the other side of the garage, still holding his third-place trophy.

Oscar’s own first-place trophy hangs loosely in his hands. He barely remembers taking it.

“Where did you go?”

Because his head isn’t in the garage. It certainly isn’t with Lando. No, it’s still with Max on the podium. With the press of his hand around Oscar’s waist when they’d stood beside each other. Second place in Max's other hand, his expression not covetous of first but of the strong curve and press of Oscar’s body.

Max had pressed his lips to the side of Oscar’s cheek as they stepped down from the top step, his breath smelling of mint, sweat clinging to his body. He leaned in as if to whisper a secret, only to pull away with a smile that was all too promising.

Memories, months old, of the heat of Max’s body against his own. Charles beneath him, opening up so sweetly. A shudder rolls through him.

“Doesn’t matter anyway, yeah? You won!” Lando’s voice drags him back, bright and easy. “Home race winner, mate. Oh, I bet the winners’ room’s gonna have the good stuff. Think we could get those fancy chocolates delivered…?”

Wait a minute.

Oscar blinks. “Lando, what are you talking about?”

Lando stares at him, then blinks once. Twice. Then he flushes, pink creeping up his cheeks. It’s pretty, but Oscar’s head is still full of Charles—the way his cheeks dimple when he—

“You’re… you’re inviting me to the winners’ room, right? That’s what we do.”

Oscar shifts the weight of the trophy in his hands. “It’s what we did…”

Lando flushes even more, his eyes a touch too bright. Embarrassment rolls through his frame, from the twitch of his fingers to his dewy lashes.

“Oh. Then who—”

Oscar’s phone trills where he’d tucked it into the lines of his suit after Kim handed it off to him. The screen lights up with a call. A selfie of him and Max stares back at him. Lando catches the angle before Oscar can tilt it away.

Lando laughs, it’s a choked little noise, and takes a step back. 

“Oh, right. No, that makes sense now. You and Max…” He rubs a hand over his face, still grinning, but there’s something edged in the way his voice softens. “Fuck, what does Charles think?”

Oscar must make a face because something in his expression answers the question for him. 

Or maybe Lando isn’t as blind as he pretends to be. Maybe he’d clocked the glances from the start of the season, the way Oscar had spent the winter break in suspicious silence. The fact that Lando had to make do with streaming and Max Fewtrell for his simmering need for attention.

Lando’s gaze flickers over his face, sharp and assessing. And then—

“Charles too?”

Oscar exhales through his nose. “Lando.”

Lando shakes his head, letting out a breathy, humourless laugh. “No, Osc, just…” He rubs a hand over his face, eyes briefly squeezing shut before he looks back at him. That usual teasing lilt is gone, replaced by something quieter, something broken. “You get it all, right? You win the day. Enjoy it.”

He claps Oscar once on the shoulder, the impact more like the punctuation at the end of a story. Then he steps back, slipping away into the bustle of the garage. Leaving Oscar alone with his buzzing phone.

[mun-urufu]

Kiss all of your mutuals NOW

SO YOU KNOW HOW LONG THAT LIST IS

promise is a promise give me liken an hour and it’ll be complete

[002yb]

For the tag prompt!

Roommate?

“Dick!” Jason screeches, his voice about two octaves higher than he thought possible.  There’s nothing menacing about him anymore–not with the way his voice breaks in a startled banshee wail.  He’d be fucking mortified by himself if it weren’t for the fact that their home has been invaded. It’s a violation Jason should be familiar and lackadaisical with at this point, but he’s disturbed to the point of chills.  On principle, roaches are foul–carriers of filth and disease.  They have no place in Jason’s life or his fucking home. And Dick had seen them.  Fucker hadn’t even bat an eye.  Just watched them scamper off before humming a considering, ‘This seems like a defining moment for us.’ Hell yeah it was defining.  It’s officially defined Dick as a no good rat bastard.  As much of a bastard as he was way back when Jason was still just a sweet, naive brat who was weak to pretty blue eyes and a nice smile and a base amount of civility and attention.  Jason was wrong about thinking Dick was charming or that he grew into a personality to match his good looks. What Prince Charming gives a boy flowers and then rough houses with them to escape their shared roachbox apartment?  What the hell kind of dreamboat laughs on the other side of the door as Jason screeches in disgust because a fucking roach crawled over Jason’s foot?

For as sweet and slice-of-life as this story was shaping up to be, one of the major plot points is very ornery towards a character I'm not fond of and it's not something I've figured how to write out of this, so... sadness. ;U;

But yes, alternative no capes roommate au where Jason bailed out on Bruce before he could be officially adopted into the Wayne family. Where Dick and him didn’t have much of a relationship before, but become reacquainted by mutual friends setting them up as roommates.

And yes, just two guys living that sitcom life while helping one another overcome personal challenges and struggles. ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

WIP Game