Feeling Myself

Musk wishes he could be as awesome as I am

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:

MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI MOCHI

There is no future tense in the English language. It's literally just the present tense with a modal verb tacked on the beginning.

This.

I think the Sun God is a fujoshi who ships alcale hence why she’s supporting Alver like crazy in this timeline where he and Cale (KRS) meet

Pin for survivors

Alex was widely known as a formidable figure—sharp, calculating and seemingly unaffected by the chaos that surrounded them. As the top negotiator for a prominent corporation, Alex's reputation for ruthless efficiency preceded them in every boardroom and back alley they came across. Few dared to cross paths with Alex and even fewer earned their respect.

Maya on the other hand, was a breath of fresh air in the dull city, a vibrant soul with an infectious laugh that could brighten even the dreariest of days. Maya thrived on the thrill of life, navigating through social circles with ease and leaving behind a trail of smiles wherever she went. But beneath her joyful exterior lay a streak of selfishness, an unspoken desire to put her own happiness above all else.

Fate intervened one evening at Lumina's annual gala, where the city's elite gathered. Amid the opulence and chatter, a sudden power outage plunged the grand event into darkness. Panic ensued as guests fumbled in the pitch-black corridors. Alex, unperturbed by the chaos, calmly made their way towards the malfunctioning elevator, seeking refuge from the commotion.

Unbeknownst to Alex, Maya had found herself in the same predicament. Her radiant smile, usually undimmed, faltered in the darkness. As the elevator doors closed, sealing them together in a confined space, Maya's unease was palpable.

"Great," Maya muttered, her voice a mix of frustration and nervousness. "Stuck in an elevator during a blackout. Just perfect."

Alex, standing stoically beside her, barely acknowledged the complaint. Instead, they assessed the situation with a cool efficiency that Maya found both intimidating and intriguing.

"Relax," Alex said, their voice steady. "We'll be out soon enough."

Maya, surprised by the calm assurance, couldn't help but be curious. She glanced at Alex, noticing the determination etched in their expression. Despite their aloof demeanor, there was something compelling about Alex—a hidden depth that piqued Maya's interest.

As minutes stretched into what felt like hours, Alex's composed demeanor remained unwavering. Maya, feeling a sense of admiration mixed with relief, decided to break the tense silence.

"You seem like you've been in situations like this before," Maya remarked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Alex's lips quirked slightly, a hint of amusement softening their stern features. "A few times," they admitted. "It comes with the territory."

Maya grinned, her usual spark returning. "Well, lucky for me, I'm stuck with an expert."

In that unexpected moment of camaraderie, amidst the darkness and uncertainty, a connection sparked between them—a connection that would set the stage for a remarkable journey. A journey that neither of them were ready for.

*slaps ceasar on the back* this guy can take so much stabbing!

Preview of the Steven-Dave saga chapter something that isn't chapter one:

Steven-dave was fucking pissed. Eurylochus had opened the bag again. He ran across the deck, assisting his comrades and checking on those who seemed to need further help. He was sure he and Polites had convinced Eurylochus to leave the bag alone, but realistically, no one else would dare to enter the captain’s cabin, rummage through his things, and actually open the bag—except Eurylochus and Polites. The waves were still rough, and the wind howled in his ears, though he could vaguely hear Odysseus calling for Eurylochus to help him close the bag. Not that it mattered now. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Polites following his lead, helping those in need. Steven-dave's eyes darted around, frantically searching for his friends. He knew Polites was safe; he had just seen him. Odysseus and Eurylochus had closed the bag and looked a bit windswept, but nothing a few minutes with a hairbrush couldn’t fix.

He scanned the rest of the men on the ship, checking their wellbeing but discarding them when he realized they weren’t his closest friends. The longer he went without seeing his friend, the tenser he became. People were starting to notice, especially when Eurylochus managed to come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder without him noticing. It took a firm but reassuring squeeze for Steven-dave to become aware of Eurylochus' presence. For a man of his size, that definitely said something. The action did what it was meant to do, and Steven-dave became aware of his surroundings, not just the people in them. He silently thanked Eurylochus before resuming his search for Bobicus, though not as single-mindedly as before. After a moment, he spotted Bobicus helping a crewmate untangle themselves from some rope. Bobicus looked no worse than the others, though he desperately needed a brush through his hair, but he seemed uninjured.

Relieved to find Bobicus alive and well, Steven-dave rushed over to him. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him he’d forgotten something important, but he didn’t care. He was more concerned about keeping all of his brothers (yes, even Odysseus, though he’d never say that out loud) safe and within his sight. By this point, the rest of the crew had gathered their bearings and begun taking stock of the ship and their remaining supplies. As they worked to right the ship, the sea began to churn almost noticeably. The waves grew taller, the wind picked up speed, the clouds darkened, and the air became tense for no discernible reason. The memory of a similar moment hit Steven-dave like a freight train: Poseidon. He had forgotten about the god of the sea. As if summoned, Poseidon appeared in all his horse-like glory.

Beneath the rippling surface of the water, said man began to ascend, his body slowly emerging from the depths. His head was the first thing to break through the surface, his long black locks flowing behind him like ink dispersing in water. Strands clung to his forehead and neck, contrasting his bronzed skin. Water streamed down his cheeks and jawline, cascading off in delicate rivulets that shimmered under the evening sun.

His shoulders followed, swathed in silky ebony hair. Droplets of water clung to the contours of his collarbones, sliding down the curves of his chest, following the path of his hair. His arms followed, his muscles tensed and his veins bulging. The water ebbing and flowing over the sculpted ridges and valleys of his well defined muscles. As the water reached his wrists, it spread out, trailing over his large, powerful hands. The glistening liquid slipped into the grooves of his palms, following the natural lines and creases, delicately tracing each callus and scar.

Next to come into view was his abdomen, the sculpted muscles of his abs drawing more than one wandering eye. Not that steven-dave could say much, the god was incredibly attractive when he wasn’t trying to kill him and his friends. Each droplet of water that slowly trailed down his body emphasized how well defined and toned his muscles were.

This is quite obviously my first draft and very unfinished. I'm using @anniflamma 's poseidon design since that's the one I personally think is the coolest. The two Characters I've added into this are the titular character Steven-dave and his bestie Bobicus.

Just watched my first Studio Ghibli movie at almost 18 (it was Howl's Moving Castle) and I'm so very not okay. I don’t normally watch movies because of my shit attention span but this had me hooked from the get-go. Loved the animation, the voice acting, the plot, the characters, all of it. This will likely be the only thing I think about for the next few days.