What Do You Mean I Clearly Have A Favourite Epic Character? I Love Polites And All The Non Polites Equally.

When you've been up for 57 hours straight and you still can't go to sleep yet because you have physics hw to do

I am so fucking normal about them. I swear I'm not foaming at the mouth, you're just seeing things I swear-

Doing exams atm whilst also trying to figure out my sexuality and I am exhausted. On the bright side, I'm like 90% confident in terms of my gender identity.

I’m ace, aro and tired

Reblog if you are also LGBT+ and tired

Who makes the porn bots. Where do they come from. What do they hope to achieve.

On a scale of 1-10, what is your fav colour of the Alphabet?

Mine is square.

Mine is glome

Hello, my friends, I hope you're all well 🫂💗

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your generous and constant support. During these challenging times, you are our true source of hope. With your kindness, we are one step closer to regaining stability and security. 🙏🏻🍉🍉

However, we’re still far from our main goal and have not yet reached even a quarter of what we’re striving for in this campaign. 😔

Reaching $9,000 as soon as possible will ease the burdens we face and help us rebuild our lives. 🙏🏻🇵🇸

Every contribution, no matter how small, brings us hope and takes us one step closer to a brighter future. 🙌🏼❤️

Thank you for everything you do; your support gives us the strength to keep going. ❤️💚🤍🖤

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https://gofund.me/abbc2759

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I'm still really not sure how to do these but I'd really appreciate it if anybody who can would donate what they can and keep supporting in other ways if they can't donate

I earnestly seek your support for my family in Gaza. This fundraiser stands as our beacon of hope, our lifeline amidst the depths of despair. With profound sorrow, I implore your generosity as we endure this unimaginable ordeal. Your contribution can mean the difference between survival and oblivion for my family, and for this, we are eternally grateful. Please, help us to rebuild our life and pursue my PhD study as as there is no guarantee of safety here. kindly read my story, donate if you can, share if you could not.

This is the link to Eman Zaqout and her family's gofundme, which has been vetted here. She's the mother of two kids, Rakan, who is 12 years old and Seba, who is 10 years old. With the cost of food increasing due to how difficult it is to import food. Please donate and share, every little bit helps.

He does have one very close friend on the the ship he's on. Because I was making this story whilst incredibly sleep deprived I decided to name that friend Bobicus. Think of the relationship odysseus has with polites and then double it and that's Bobicus and Steven-dave. Bobicus will figure out somethings up almost immediately but he trusts Steven-Dave with his life so he won't bring it up unless he needs to.

And Steven-dave was on Odysseus' ship, that's why he's managed to survive as long as he has.

re: epic time travel fix it

do you mind sharing more about steven-dave? was he one of the guys that was in the cave with polyphemus? was he part of the group that turned into pigs by circe? or did he stay back on the ship for those? (no pressure to answer tho! i’m just very invested in the life of your intrepid time traveller :D)

Steven-dave was there for everything. In the og timeline, he was in the cave with Polyphemus, got turned into a pig, the whole lot of it. Now that he's regressed, he's stuck being the only one who has common sense whilst the rest of the crew continue to do more and more stupid shit. Honestly, he's going to need a pay rise by the time I'm done with him. If you want to know more about steven-dave in general then feel free to pop me another ask :)

Dick Grayson barely registered the creak of his apartment door as he stumbled in, shoulders sagging under the weight of another grueling night. Three jobs and a patrol shift in Blüdhaven would do that to a guy. He kicked off his boots, dragged himself toward the couch, and froze mid-step.

Someone was already here.

For a split second, instinct had him reaching for the escrima sticks he kept stashed near the door. But then he caught the faintest whiff of something familiar—coffee beans? The expensive kind. And the faint rustle of someone shifting in the dark. He relaxed. Probably one of his siblings. Jason liked breaking in unannounced when he was in a mood, Tim treated locks like they were a mere suggestion, and Damien was just Damien.

"Tim, if you're raiding my coffee stash again, at least leave some for me this time," Dick grumbled, flopping onto the couch without bothering to look.

Silence.

"Jason? Did you lose your keys, or are you here to eat all my leftovers again?" He paused. "Duke, if that's you, I—okay, actually, no idea why you'd be brooding in the dark, but it's been a long day, so I'm just gonna roll with it."

The silence stretched on, but Dick was too exhausted to care. Whoever it was, they could wait until morning. "Look, I’m on your side. Or, I will be in the morning when I’ve had some sleep." He yawned, dragging himself up off the couch and toward his bedroom. "I’ll make breakfast. We’ll talk then. Pancakes or eggs, your call. Just...try not to trash the place while I’m out, yeah?"

The figure didn’t move, and Dick didn’t wait for an answer. He fell into bed and passed out almost immediately.

---

When Dick woke up, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight streaming through the blinds. The second thing he noticed was the smell of coffee.

He frowned. Coffee? He hadn’t made any.

Dragging himself out of bed, he shuffled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, on the counter, was a steaming mug of coffee and a note. Beside the note sat a printed receipt and a bag of fresh groceries.

Dick blinked, reaching for the note first. The handwriting was sharp and precise:

> "Not one of your siblings. Sorry for the confusion. Came to deliver a message, but your ‘brotherly’ assumption and hospitality caught me off guard. Your fridge was so pathetic it offended me, so I ordered you groceries. They should last a week. Try to survive the next visit. You seem like a stand-up guy. —K"

He stared at the note, then at the receipt. The assassin—or whoever they were—had bought him eggs, milk, bread, fresh vegetables, and even a few snacks.

Setting the note aside, Dick opened his fridge. Sure enough, it was freshly stocked. His two protein bars and box of expired cereal were still there, now dwarfed by the bounty of fresh food.

He shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “Only me,” he muttered, sipping the coffee. It was good. Better than what he usually bought.

Dick leaned against the counter, rereading the note. Whoever this “K” was, they clearly didn’t know how to keep things impersonal. And while the whole “message from an assassin” thing was technically alarming, he couldn’t help but feel amused.

“I guess I should be worried,” he mused aloud, glancing at the groceries again. “But hey, at least they care about my nutrition.”

It was the weirdest start to a morning he’d had in a while, but for Dick Grayson, that wasn’t saying much.

@violent138 hope I did it justice :)

Dick's so used to getting back to his place, exhausted out of his mind after working his three jobs and patrolling Blüd, that he doesn't even bother trying to figure out who it is this time, brooding in the dark of his flat. Just informs them after the silence continues that he's on their side no matter what ("or I will be in the morning when I wake up") and that he'll make breakfast, and they can talk when they want to before he passes out.

Then Dick wakes up to empty flat with a note on the kitchen island that an assassin who broke into the place to send a message was ridiculously heart warmed by the gesture and made him breakfast and "hopes he survives the next one too because he seems like a stand up guy. "

Dick:

Well that looks uncomfortable but each to their own I suppose.