#but it can only do so much in an old house

[heartmix]

My Girls - MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x singlemom!reader

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warning: poking fun at max, dad!max, no use of y/n but daughters name is Aria

A/N: dad max content. I have a part 2 in mind so that will be coming soon

F1 Masterlist / Masterlist

"Can I ask you a question, it's totally okay if you say no."

"What is it?"

"When do you think I'll be able to meet her?" the question caught you off guard. 

You knew what he was asking, he was asking when he'd be able to meet your daughter. Being a young single mom was not in the books for you. With her father leaving before she was even born you quickly tossed out the idea of finding a relationship. Sure, there have been many instances where people dated single parents, but since you had her when you were young, the idea did seem impossible. You've been preparing for the moment for months, but it still caught you off guard. Coming up on a year of being together it was bound to happen. 

Noticing your silence he quickly tried to defuse the tension, "I mean it's totally up to you. I don't mean to rush you or anything, I want to let you know that I'm committed to you and I'm not going anywhere. I want to be there for both of you."

"Sure." 

"Sure?" He clarified, a smile spreading across his face quickly, one you matched instantly. A simple nod was all he needed to take you into his arms and give you the most bone-crushing hug. Seeing him make a big deal settled all your nerves.

Max's hand was shaking way too much to be meeting a 2-year-old. From the stories you told about the little one, he saw that she was friendly and was willing to meet new people so the fact that he was shaking so much was comical. He's had meetings with some of the richest people in the world and met world leaders, hell people would have this reaction meeting him and he would laugh it off saying he was just a normal person. So why was this little one making him more nervous than a race day? 

It had to do with the fact that she was yours—the light of your life and the only person in your life you prioritized. The more he thought about it, the more that person became you to him, and this was just the final step to make everything feel real. If the little girl didn't like you, he knew you wouldn't hesitate to break it off, and he couldn't blame you.

With one final head shake to try and get rid of the nervousness he knocked on the front door. Did he knock too hard that he startled the little one? Should he have knocked? Maybe he should have texted you he was outside. It's been months since he knocked on your door, having his own key to the place. Before he could think of any other ridiculous thoughts the door opened the reveal you, standing in all your glory with that welcoming gorgeous smile he fell in love with. 

"I can't believe meeting my kid got you out of wearing a Red Bull kit. I can't even get you to do that." Your teasing tone snapped him out of the trance. Max couldn't help but laugh at that being your comment in a situation like this. 

"It's just a black shirt schatje. I can hardly say I dressed up." he glanced looking down at his black shirt and some jeans. He would be lying if he said he didn't think about what to wear today. 

"Oh please, Max Verstappen outside of anything Red Bull is dressing up." 

"You're not helping." he groaned seeing as you were enjoying every minute of this. He was going to get payback, if everything went okay after all.

"Why are you so nervous?"

"How are you not?" He asked not seeing any concerning features. He expected you to be more worried and in a worse state than him actually.

"Because I know you, I know how great you are, and that my baby will love you." You smiled while wrapping your arms around his neck, Max immediately circling his around your waist. Maybe if you weren't worried he shouldn't be either. "Come on, she's expecting you." Grabbing his hand and pulling him further into the house.

Before he rounded the corner to the living room he heard the sound of what to be a Disney song playing on the speakers and toys clashing with one another. He's been to your house enough times to know how much toys littered the living room. When the living room came into view he saw the little girl sitting on the ground surrounded by blocks and little toys he didn't recognize. 

"Aria, baby. I want you to meet Mommy's friend. This is max. Can you say hi?" Max didn't leave your side as you leaned down to grab the girl's attention. Her eyes immediately locked onto his the second she recognized there was a stranger in her house.

"Hi!" She beamed up at the tall Dutchman with the biggest smile on her face. Seeing that smile every last bit of nerves washed away. Just like seeing your smile for the first time, he knew he was screwed in the best way possible. 

"Hi, Aria. Lovely to meet you."

"Can Max spend the day with us?" you then asked although, with one look at the smirk on your face, he knew the answer. 

"Play with me?" In the cutest voice Max ever heard, he wasted no time sitting next to the girl who held a stuffed cat up to his face.

"Of course. I would love to!"

"Baby, why don't you show Max your cars."

"My cars!" She excitedly said before running to her room to retrieve her cars. Not a second later she came back with a bag filled with a few cars. Max was expecting Hot Wheels or toys from the cars movie, in no way was he prepared for the girl to pull out a replica of his car. 

"Do you know the cars we watch every week? That's Max and that's his car." You pointed out watching the girl's face turn into shock. 

"You 1?" Turning to Max who held the same shock expression as hers.

"I am. You like cars?" At this, she let out a little squeal and pushed the car into his hand. 

One by one she pulled out every car she had even the names she gave each of them. Max was 1, the McLarens were orange, and more specifically Lando was 4. The Ferraris were horsey and the one Mercedes car being Lewis of course was pretty due to the fact that she could only point out Lewis out of his racing gear. 

By the end of the day, Aria was all tired out. After all day playing with Max and telling stories at dinner, she passed out beside Max on the couch while watching cars. Your choice of movie just to poke fun at Max more. Taking her to bed you saw that Max pulled out wine from the fridge and handed you a glass before settling on the couch. The stark contrast from the noise-filled day to the quietness of just you two was a reality check for Max. He made it through and from the way you were cuddled up into his side, he knew that he was right where he needed to be. 

"Thank you. For being so good with her, she loved you so much, probably just as much as me. You made her day and she is going to be excited to see you in the morning."

"You don't need to thank me for anything. I should be thanking you for letting me into the biggest part of your life. You are doing such a wonderful job with her, you're an amazing mother." At his confession, you couldn't help but feel tears brim your eyes.

"I'm sorry, silly thing to get emotional about but that means a lot. I'm just happy you accept me and her with everything we have going on." Before your hands could wipe the tears streaming down your cheek his hands wiped them away. 

"I meant it when I said I'm with you through everything. I wouldn't change anything about you or her. I want you to know I love you both and I'm not going anywhere."

"You're such a freaking sap Max Verstappen. If your fans could see you now." You teased making him chuckle. 

"The duality of you to turn a heartfelt moment into teasing me." 

"You signed up for it when you agreed to date me."  

"And I wouldn't have it any other way." He smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. 

[my-castles-crumbling]

name - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 375

James had never even once brought up the idea of either of them changing their names when they got married. He didn't much like the idea of being a Black, if he was honest, but he knew that Regulus had more of an attachment to the name than he would ever let on. Though the other man had long ago cast aside most of his family members, along with their traditions and expectations, he still, for some reason, had a hard time letting go of some things. As if a small part of the Noble and Ancient House refused to die. So James didn't push, and accepted that they would both keep their old surnames when they married.

Until one day, as they were working on the more-thrilling parts of wedding planning, the topic came up.

"We need to get a Marriage Certificate from the Ministry," Regulus said, furrowing his brow, as he looked over the meter-long checklist he held in front of him. "Oh, and I'll get a Name Change Application while we're there. Shall we go tomorrow?"

James took a few moments to process before he looked up. "Name Change Form?" he asked heart leaping a bit. "Wh-why?"

Gray eyes looked at him hesitantly. "I'm taking your last name. I thought you...you knew this...Shit, is that okay?" Regulus asked softly, as if he thought James would be mad about such a thing.

"Fuck." James stood from his chair and moved to scoop Regulus into his arms, ignoring his weak protests. "You mean it? You want to be Regulus Potter?" He did his very best not to drop Regulus with his glee, laughing and pressing kisses to his fiancé's face.

"I thought I did," Regulus said, rolling his eyes and swatting at him lightly. "Ugh. Yes, I do, for some strange reason. Now, stop this, we still have to talk about the cake. Mr. Gateau wanted to talk to us about final decoration details for the frosting-"

"Can it say Mister and Mister Potter?" James asked dreamily, setting Regulus back in his chair and grinning madly.

Regulus looked at him with a mixture of amusement and fond annoyance. "Fine. But only if I'm the first Mister Potter," he said, smirking.

"Of course, my love."

[sxorpiomooon]

your first ever own home - a pac reading

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pile 1-

You'll play alot of songs while cooking, cooking will actually become sort of your religion. Something stupid is playing in my head while a girl tries to pick up a very hot container and slightly burns her finger. You are very poetic if you are not yet you will be. I see you writing alot I think alot of you will want an open home. Open doesn't mean big it just means that you would want it to have big windows and you'll keep them open so that the wind can flow. This pile will love living alone they'll love to make food for themselves while dancing. Living by themselves in their own apartment will be like a religion to them. I see you guys rushing back home whenever you are out because your home truly will feel like home. You won't style it that much but it will be very comfortable i see light colour sheets and curtains flowing wind chimes? I'm also seeing frames haha you might have a wall dedicated to that only ooooo I'm also seeing a good scenary it'll be at a good place sort of like the house that ask 101 boy lived in. There might be alot of birds chirping around I'm getting turkey and Italy etc. Some of you are going to be writers or this might be during your 20s for sure.

Pile 2-

This is going to be at an old house the type of house that others might have not really wanted to buy because it's old or something? I also think for some of you this is going to be your old family home or related to that I see alot of memories. This house might have alot of memories of its own which is precisely why you'll choose it. Vienna started playing in my head. Do you guys like how much love old things hold? Do you like dedications piano and finding old love letters? I see you actually not making much changes to this house I heard "this house has a spirit of it's own". This pile very much believes in a house having a spirit or personality of their own. I see some sort of photo frame that's going to be there. There will be stuff of the previous owners that you'll keep and I also see you going on alot of first online dates? Lmao this pile might also like to play those vinyl records and drink white wine. I see this pile being more in their 30s? Or more mature than the other one. There's a sense of being very authentic so much that it almost scares others to this pile which I absolutely love. I also see a new beginning

Pile 3-

LMAOO this pile will be at their all time high some of you very few are going to gain alot of popularity as soon as you step into your career or might be given this house by some other people. I just see you receiving money instantly and then you quickly investing it in a house. The only issue is that instead of trying find a home you'll buy a house. I dont see this pile staying here alot as well? This will mainly be because of your work schedule and also because this won't feel like home and won't call out to you. I'm getting the age of 24 but def will buy it young without much thinking, will have no time because of career and then will buy another one after ages of thinking. Strange but I keep getting aries perhaps venus in Aries or something and a very loud and busy city.

[bladu-bladu]

I've lived in many places, moved many times, had to start over friendships again and again. Some people keep calling and you want to keep calling them; some people turn out to be only friends of proximity, and once you're no longer around each other, the friendship cools.

I have childhood friends that still live in that city and we are friends because once in three years i show up on their doorstep and say hey there im alive, and they say lets go out one of those days, and then i leave and we will see each other in a few years once again. I don't have their number and I don't want their number, because we dont have anything in common anymore, but we have been friends for decades because that's what we were when we last played together and it is enough to see them healthy and happy even if i dont know the particulars.

I had a friendship that lived on 6 month old message replies, and it was important and meaninful and i very much didnt care all that much about the time it took to answer, because if i said "im coming over next week" id have a spam of gushing and plans making and lets go there and there and do this and that and youre staying for how long and stay a few days at my house. And we would talk about everything and update each other on our lives and sometimes not talk at all, but just being around and realising that yes, we like each other still! was great. It is very strange to be making plans to visit and knowing they're not there anymore, they're not here anymore, but the urge to message is still strong, the friendship is still there, even thought they aren't.

I have a frienship that survived end of school, end of college, moving cities and states and a decade without seeing each other. And i asked for a place to stay and they said you can stay as long as you need. Live with me.

I have a friendship that started at work, and they said they feel inferior because oh you know so much about so many things, and i said you know just as much as i do, everytime you and our common friends talk, i know zero references, i dont know the people, the shows, the meaning, the implication, so who knows more than the other here? and i asked to be invited to their wedding and they started giggling. we have nothing in common besides our profession, and i wish to hold this person forever.

I've had friendships that i thought would survive distance but frizzled out. That i thought were meaningful, but were for (their) convenience. That i thought were real, but where only of proximity.

Maybe it's from the experience of having started over and over and over, but letting go of those that give you nothing but the taste of pain isn't the end of the world. The loneliness, the feeling of being unmoored and what do i do with my time that was theirs before fades away, and you find something else to occupy yourself with, you meet new people. Maybe you stay as acquaintances for years until you or they reach out. It does need courage, it does need work, but it is so very much worth it.

Also re: the fact it’s normal to have a period of time where you have no friends: sometimes this means no “real” friends aka still have people you know from work, school, family, neighbors, acquaintances, etc etc you interact with but are not close with and couldn’t go to for anything on any deeper level. But sometimes it actually does mean no friends. No social interaction, nobody to call, no other option, don’t talk to anyone for days, don’t know who would find out if you died. The thing is there really is coming back from both of those situations ofc it takes a good deal of work and can feel like pulling teeth to put yourself out there but god it pays off. You can always start over from scratch, and it’s true most people are just as lonely as you are

[jester-lover]

Batfam with a Desi! S/O

CWs: Fem! aligned reader discussions of discrimination, angst, spoilers, but overall fluff

AN: I'm desi and I rarely see desi! reader content out here, so I felt the need to deliver, would love feedback! Also, I'm very new to the Batfamily dynamic, so please don't think anything OOC is intentional.

Bruce

You’ve got to be a really smart person to catch his eye; when you’ve got him, he’s absolutely ensnared by you. Bruce worships the damn ground you walk on, and he respects your culture from the get-go.

As a businessman, he’s met people from all countries. He knows how to behave respectfully towards your family without much nagging. By that I mean, he’ll take his shoes off when he gets to your place.

You know those big gold bangles and accessories you’ve always wanted? You’ll get them. Bruce knows what an investment gold can be, and he’s insistent on only the best for you.

Desi culture is very family-oriented, and while at first, he’s a little put off by how close everyone is, he warms up to it. Your family adores him because they know he can take care of you, and he actually puts in effort to connect with your identity.

He encourages you to wear traditional clothes to every press event you attend, and whenever you’re at desi events together, he’ll wear a kurta too. Imagine going to a desi wedding with a billionaire in tow, and he starts throwing hundreds on the dance floor lol.

You worry about him regarding his double life, but he tries to keep the crime in Gotham away from you the best he can.

Dick

He’s so down bad about you his own teammates make fun of him for it.

Dick would see you doing something like oiling your hair and beg to try it out too, so now you oil his hair once weekly. He tells everyone it’s a secret, but they all know it got better as soon as he was with you.

He would love watching sappy old Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you; the plots and slang might be outdated, but he loves the ornateness of it all. Like he’s a sucker for good background and costume design.

Your family loves how much attention he pays to himself and his body, and he practically soaks in the adoration of any number of little cousins he can pick up and spin around at family functions.

Speaking of functions, you know he’s gonna be in the middle of the dance floor. Does he know even a single song or move? Absolutely he does not, but is he gonna try to replicate SRK from his heart? Yes, he is.

He might shed a little tear the first time he sees you in traditional clothes; you just look so pretty to him. He loves seeing you in lehengas and saris, especially the long, flowy fabric that makes you look like a princess to him.

Jason

I really don’t think your family would like him at first, but he’s committed to you, and he’s gonna be with you as long as you’ll have him. He’ll happily immerse himself in your culture and eventually gain their trust, albeit, hanging on a thread.

Similarly to Dick, he’ll ask for you to try oiling his hair, but he’d love oiling your hair too, helping you tend to it during slow days. 

While none of the other people here would be quiet in the face of you facing discrimination, Jason would be the most willing to cause equal or worse harm. God forbid someone acts rude or racist towards you; they will find their lives slowly falling apart around them. From flat tires to burnt-down houses, he will willingly cause misery for those who have upset you over something you couldn’t possibly control.

Loves to help you cook; seeing a dish come together makes him feel all domestic and giddy inside. Even if it’s something simple, like a cup of chai or basic daal, he loves the richness of the flavors and spice. His spice tolerance is also high, so you don’t need to make your shared meals blander.

Worrying about clothes is a little out of his general interest, but he loves how opulent your traditional clothes are, like the amount of attention to detail and elegance. He thinks you look pretty even after the event, shoes in hand and hair messy after dancing for hours. He’ll carry you to the car if you ask him.

On the topic of clothes, Jason would look so gorgeous in a silky black kurta; I just know it.

Tim

One of my favorite gora pakoras.

He’d love to visit your country of origin someday; warm weather, good food, meeting your extended family—it’s all great for him.

Loves desi sweets so much. His favorites are mostly kulfi and syrupy treats like gulab jamun, but he loves snacks like pakoras.

This is the boy you want to bring home; he’s smart, self-reliant, comes from money, and is willing to keep up with the various traditions we have. Tim will happily learn your language, even if just to greet people respectfully at events. Your desi mom will literally start telling you to act more like him.

He’ll get himself matching kurtas to your outfits if you want him to, even if he kind of just sits around at events. It's not that he doesn’t want to socialize; he’s just a little nervous.

Tim will watch all the Desi rom-coms you want with you, especially the musical ones; they’re his guilty pleasure.

Duke

He’s so sweet, genuinely such a good partner in general, but also so conscious of cultural and social differences. 

Duke Thomas would be the type of boyfriend who carries around extra safety pins whenever you’re in traditional clothes or bobby pins for your hair, just thoughtful in little but important ways.

Running around fighting crime really takes a lot out of a guy, so you know he’d love to eat some hearty food; I think his favorites would be biryani or anything similarly substantial. 

This is the boy who’d spend any spare hour he has listening to you ramble on about family drama that goes back three generations and spans 3 continents. He’ll even help you oil your hair while he’s at it; he’s pretty decent at massaging it into your scalp. 

His favorite clothes on you are the less gown-like desi clothes, like the Shalwar Kameez; Duke thinks you look absolutely adorable in a dupatta.

He adores you so much because of everything that makes you, you. That includes loving your culture.

Barbara

Barbara’s such an ideal girlfriend in any situation, but with a desi partner, she’d really adore exploring your culture with you.

Another one who’d love watching Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you, especially some of the newer ones by more obscure directors, focusing on women’s issues and other elements of modern Desi society.

She would help you do your makeup for formal events, and it will be locked down for the night. Imagine wearing matching lehengas with Barb; she’d look so stunning!

Warms up to your family pretty quickly; she loves sharing chai and biscuits in the morning with them, talking about all the happenings in the city.

Barbara loves desi jewelry; she’d adore it if you got her a piece. She loves seeing you in ornate matching sets, just decked out in glamour.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: 😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hear your father in the garage. It’s a comfort knowing he isn’t in the house. You’ve learned to navigate so that you rarely run into him. The fact of your existence only ever seems to irk him. 

That day, there’s a low rumble between the clank and clunk of his tools. You’re not sure it’s the engine or something else. The last time you glimpsed inside the garage, the engine wasn’t even in that old Bronco he’s worked on for seven years. 

You rub smooth the lines in your forehead and give a long blink. You’ve been squinting at the diamond art for much too long. You sit up and roll your shoulders. You need a break. 

As you emerge from your room, you feel guilty. A break from what? Doing nothing. That’s what your dad always says. Then he laughs and finds something to throw at you. 

You take his lunch box from the floor by the shoe mat and bring it to the kitchen. You open it up and clean out all the containers. Those things you do, as small as they are, like cleaning and making his meals, aren’t enough. He doesn’t fail to remind you of that. 

You dump the uneaten crust from his ham and cheese sandwich as the door from the garage clatters open and lets in the smell of oil and dirt. You turn your attention to the sink as you put the container with the rest. It’s only as you flip the faucet on that you realise the steps aren’t your dad’s. 

“Scuse me,” Sy says. “Don’t mean to bother, but, uh, had a bit of an accident.” 

You face him as he holds out the front of his tee shirt. You gulp. There’s a smear of shiny oil across it, ready to drip onto the floor. Your eyes round. 

“I can clean it in the bathroom, I see you’re busy.” 

He goes to turn away and you put your hands up. The oil won’t come out if he just wipes it into the shirt. You would know since you deal with your dad’s stained jeans.  

He nears as you sidle down to grab the baking soda from the cupboard. He looms, his shadow moving in your peripheral, and you shift the faucet to off. You grab a paper towel and turn to him. You hesitate to reach for him, that seems too much but before you can make a move, he peels his shirt off. 

You flutter your lashes and point to the counter. He lays the shirt out and you open the box of baking soda. He stands back and watches. Heat trickles down your back as you focus on the task. You sprinkle the powder over his shirt. 

You let it soak up as much as it can then blot daintily. 

“You’re clever,” he muses. “Helpful.” 

You shrug. 

“How lucky’s that daddy of yours, huh? You out here cleaning all his mess. You make his lunch?” He peeks over at the sink and you follow his gaze. You nod. “Hm, think he’d be nicer then, wouldn’t ya? Well, I know him, he ain’t a nice fella.” 

You return your attention to his shirt. If your daddy isn’t so nice, why does he come around? You wouldn’t ask even if you could. You can barely concentrate with him exposed like that. 

Your eyes dart over in a fleeting peek. His chest is hair and his stomach thick, his arms too. You’re always aware of how big he is but at that moment, he seems even larger. You look at his shirt. It’ll need more time to soak and wash. 

“Could wash it with the hose, don’t wanna ruin your machine,” he offers as if reading your mind. 

You frown and shake your head. You hold up your finger and flit away with his shirt. You put stain remover on it and dump it in the machine. You set the cycle then hesitate. What will he wear now? 

Your dad isn’t as big. He’s a pretty small guy. He might have something... 

You hurry into the closet of old things and search around. There’s one of those tees he got from a case of Labatts. They always pack the XLs and nothing else. It has some sports team logo on it. 

You go back to the kitchen and offer it to Sy. He crosses to you and accepts it with a smile, “thanks, sugar. That’s mighty nice.” His fingertips brush yours.  

He unfolds the shirt and shakes it out. He pulls it over his head and your eyes crawl down his torso unintentionally. You back up a step as he tugs down the hem, though it hangs short of his belt. Even that is too small for him. 

“You’re not scared of me, are ya?” He asks as he curls his shoulders as if to make himself smaller. 

You shake your head. Shy is all. You’re not eager to mingle with anyone. Nor they, you. 

“You know, I might have a word with your daddy. He shouldn’t be so nasty to ya. ‘Specially all the work you put in.” 

You shake your head frantically and clasp your hands. You know better than that. Even if he’s trying to be nice, it’s the worst thing he can do. 

“What’s wrong? Huh? Just wanna tell him what a good girl ya are,” he crosses his arms and seems to double in size. 

You pout and press your hands together. You cower and takes another step back. His expression turns dire. 

“Sorry, sugar, hope I didn’t upset ya there. I was only... only bein’ nice, ya know? Seems you’re not used to all that.” He drops his hands to his hips. “Fine then, I’ll just have to save them sweet words for you, huh?” 

You look down and chew your lip. You’re not used to the attention. Your dad’s other friends, if you can call them that, just ignore you or laugh at his jokes about you. You nod and turn, gesturing to the sink. You walk up to it, clinging to the excuse to get away. 

“Yeah, I know, you workin’ hard,” he praises. “I’ll be outta ya way now.” 

You bob your head and turn the tap on again. You work at scrubbing the containers, waiting and listening for him to go. When he does, you can breathe again. You’re not so sure why he’s being nice. Not like you can do much but stare. 

💘

When your dad’s at work, you’re as close to peace as you’ve ever been. There’s still that constant restlessness that follows you. The gnawing reality that time is passing you by. That you have no purpose. No direction. 

You envy others. That they have a reason. That they have everything you don’t. They have other people, ones that care, not those burdened with them; they have important work to do; they have fun things to celebrate; graduations, new jobs, marriages. They have voices and you remain unheard. 

You busy yourself with the tidying when he isn’t there. If you try to clean with him around, he only antagonizes you. There’s a roast out for dinner. It will last a few days. Most times, you lose your appetite. You spend all day craving and making the food then lose all desire the moment it’s before you. 

The small pleasures you once treasured fade with each day that starts and ends the same. You can’t feel too bad for yourself. Your dad doesn’t have to keep you. You’re an adult now. Maybe he’ll never say so, or even show it, but he must care, right? 

You finish mopping and start on chopping up the potatoes. You arrange them in the roasting pan around the slab of beef. Then carrots and celery. You save the onions for last because they make you cry. You’re saved from tears by the rumble of thunder on the horizon. 

Curiously, you set the knife down and go to the window. Would your dad be home early? Some days, they shut down the shop when business is slow. 

It’s not him but you recognise the grating on the truck’s nose. The large truck sends up dirt and gravel as it cuts across the worn roadway. Your confusion floods to panic and you rush out the front door.

Is your father hurt? Why else would Sy be here? 

You hover on the top step as he grinds to a stop and shuts the behemoth truck off. The driver’s door creaks as it opens and Sy jumps down. Instead of his usual camo cargo shorts and sweat-dampened tee, he wears a button-up with short sleeves and a pair of brown slacks. It even looks like he combed his beard. 

Your face twists in a grimace. What’s going on? Why is he here? 

He reaches back into the truck and brings out something behind his back. You can’t see it as he keeps his arm bent behind him and shuts the door. He grins and walks up to the house as you watch. 

“How’s it goin’?” He asks brightly. 

You blink. You look at his collar, the top button straining against his thick neck. You lower your gaze to your loose blue tee and barrel jeans. You’re dressed like a laundry line. Your clothes offer no shape, nothing. They just do the job. 

“I, uh, I wanted to surprise ya, and uh, I was thinkin’ ya know, this place deserves a bit of colour,” he chuckles then clears his throat, “and you deserve good things, so, uh, here.” 

He reveals the flowers from behind his back and you blanch. You stare at the dainty petals, white with violet edges. They are pretty. Too pretty for this place or for you. Besides, why would he do that? 

“You don’t like em? Should I have got roses?” He asks. 

You flinch. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. You come down the steps and cautiously reach for the paper cone. He hands it over and you stare at him. Then you smell them. You think that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

“Smell good?” He asks. 

You peer over the petals at him and nod. You’re not sure how to react. What do you do now? You can’t just leave him out in the yard. You raise your thumb and point it over your shoulder and tilt your head. 

“Sure, I’ll come in,” he accepts. 

He steps forward, a bit too close, and you hop backward up the step. You barely keep from tripping. You get onto the porch and spin around, scurrying to the door. You open the door and step to the side to hold it for him. 

He laughs again, “now, I’m a gentleman, sugar.” 

He grabs the door and gestures you through. You take his directive without pause. You hurry inside and he follows. As he stops to take off his shoes, you continue on into the kitchen. 

You search for an adequate holder for the flowers. You find an old canister and set them in it with some water. His presence lurks behind you. You put the bouquet on the table as he looks around. 

“You cookin’ a fine dinner, huh?” He says. “Like I tell your daddy, he’s a lucky man. Any man’d be lucky to have that waitin’.” 

You shrug. He shifts. 

“I don’t mean to take advantage of your kindness but I was gonna ask ya a favour.” 

You look at him blankly. He reaches in his pocket. He pulls a length of silk. A tie. 

“Couldn’t figure this out,” he explains. “Thought maybe you might...” 

You stare at the tie. You remember tying your daddy’s for your grandma’s funeral. That was a long time ago but you think you could remember. 

You swallow down your nerves and approach him. You take the tie and he glances around. He pushes a chair out and sits. He leans his head back. 

“Just wanna make sure I look good for ya,” he says. 

You flip up his collar and bring the silk around his neck. As you do, your thumb brushes his coarse beard. He hums. 

“Don’t worry bout pullin’ my hair,” he scoffs. “Won’t bother me none.” 

You line up his tie, knuckles brushing his shirt as you go through the steps in your hand. You pull the tie snug and fix hit collar. You step back and he sets his head straight. You hug yourself and give him a questioning look. 

“Ya like your surprise?” He asks. 

You look at the flower then nod. 

“And what about the other?” 

You face him again and your brows draw together. 

“Me,” he snorts. 

You purse your lips and shrug. What does he mean? 

“We’ll wait for your daddy, huh? Then I’ll ask his blessing.” He rests his elbow on the table, “and you’ll have dinner all ready, won’t ya?” 

[psychologeek]

Thank you for your reply!

By your answer, I guess you aren't Jewish.

Oh, it's gonna be long.

Short:

This is very much NOT the definition of Zionism.

Herzel was very secular.

"God's redemption plan" - you're Christian, aren't you. Please stop projecting your cultural obsession.

Judaism, Palestine, Yisrael (word origins)

Longer:

Defining

See, the problem is "I define X as..." Without being part of X. This is problematic.

Can you imagine?

"I define feminism as the belief that women should have rights, and only women."

"I define the gay movement as the belief that people should be able to fuck in public and molest children"

Can you see how problematic it is to define something by what haters say about it?

Zionism

Theodore Herzel was highly affected by the Dreyfus trial, which he witnessed as a journalist. That made him realise that both the idea of emancipation (autonomous government under a larger Goy government) is not the solution. That the only way Jews would actually be save would be to be to have a Jewish self-govern state.

This come along with the Hibat Zion movement, that was mostly eastern Europe (Russia kingdom) and started 1881-82, as a result of the mass Pogroms (Sufot Banegev) and the May Laws.

"Zion" is one of the ancient names of Eretz Yisrael (and partly for Jerusalem).

Jews and Eretz Yisrael

The longing for Eretz Yisrael (the land of Yisrael, as in our ancestor) is as old as the exiles - you can see the Sigd, a holly day still held by the Beta Yisrael community (from Ethiopia) and had been for the last 2,500 years, as they didn't return after the 70-year/first exile.

Or 2,000 years for the rest, if you count from the second (Roman) exile. And Eretz Yisrael has always been part of our culture and hopes and prayers. We pray 3 times a day (each contains a spesific part about going back to Jerusalem). We say Bracha, a blessing, before and after every time we eat.

Our 3 main holidays, were used to be celebrated in Beyt Hamikdash. We still remember how it was. We still pray to do it again.

We mourn every year about what happened. We have a day in which we fast for 25 hours and cry and mourn. Which is at the end of 3 weeks of grief.

Erezt Yisrael, by any other name, has been in the Jewish DNA.

And there have always been Jews in Israel. 4 communities are famous for having over 2,000 years of unstopped Jewish community: Zfad, Tiberias, Jerusalem, and Hebron (the latter's Jewish community had been murdered in the pogrom of 1929. And since then, no Jews lived there - until the new Jewish community, 1979s, which people now call "colonizers". Bc they... uh... Are Jews who bought back houses originally owned by jews. No I'm not bitter at all.

"But there weren't jews in Israel -"

I mean there were??

But also.

The low number was highly affected by things like pogroms (Zfad, for example, had 4 massive ones during 1538-1929. And that's only what I have memorized). The Jewish community of Gaza City has been exiled 3 times 1830s-1929 (when they didn't return). Restrictions on immigration were put in place - ONLY for jews btw, in 1882.

(Also restrictions on Jewish immigration in the USA. I wonder why. Surely had nothing to do with other things that happened in 1881-2 that may cause many jews to consider immigration. )

Oh, we were murdered and exiled so so many times.

~

Kahanizm (isn't Zionism)

Any "only jews should live in Israel" opinion is a minority so small that. Like.

It's part of Kahanizm. Just to explain, the political party mostly failed to reach minimal votes in the elections (in Israel, the coalition is combined of multiple parties) and was at some point forbidden for running by the high court. Kahana has been imprisoned in both Israel and USA for his actions. This is so un-spread, that even most of far-right in Israel would disagree with him. Do you understand now?

Judaism:

Jews are called Jews in english (and some other languages) bc it comes from "Judaism" which come from "Judea" aka Mamlechet Yehudah (Kingdom of Judea), the southern kingdom during the 2 kingdoms era, and the last Hebrew kingdom to fall. That what we were named by the Romans -

But not only. You can see it since the first exile.

In the Book of Esther, with Mordechai ("Mordechai ben Shim'i ben Kish... Ish Yemini" (from the tribe of Binyamin). But also "Mordechai Ha'Yehudi" - which implies it refers to the place he was exiled from (Yehuda).

Palestine:

While we're at it, do you know what's the origin of the name?

The Romans (AKA colonists) has re-named the area after the great Jewish rebellion in the 1st century CE.

They named it after the Plishtim, that were big enemies of the jews, as a tactic of humiliation. Also known as "goyey hayam" (the sea people/invaders) who came from Greece.

(They also renamed our holly city as "Ilya Kapitolina", and salted the land. They also killed almost everyone in it, and enslaved most of the others. They also destroyed our Temple, Beyt Hamikdash.)

Also, "Palestine" has never been a sovereign country? I'm sort of confused why ppl keep it on.

Modern-day Israel is almost exactly in the borders of ancient kingdom of Israel.

Edit: Jewish-only poll is posted here

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

[sillyhanako]

˚ ₊ ‧ ୨﹒its getting stickyyyyy﹒୧ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅

﹒꒦꒷ headcanons﹔dandadan cast x saiki!reader

﹒꒦꒷ contains﹔tsundere reader , reader being pulled in unnecessary fights , saiki is acc way too op wtf??? , ♾️aura for reader for not being naked in that one scene , a persona reference (find it >:3 !!) , smart reader ftw , seiko considers reader a genius , reader being the 2 lovebird's therapist , fashion show at momo's room , grateful reader.

୧﹒wc : 505 (IM GOING BACK TO 5O5)

꒱﹒a/n﹒୨୧ : HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Omg why did i forgot about this blog for a hot minute. Exams has been DRAINING my pp. Enjoy this draft fr 🤣🔥 GOODMORNING to the SQUID GAME NATION GOODMORNING to THE 8 SHOW NATION love yal fr oh yeah btw i havent watched saiki since 2022 and it was nice scrolling at tdlosk wiki page 💔💔

ー﹕m.list﹐

saiki!reader who is usually the background character, "the quiet kid", a reclusive shut-in who hates being the center of attention. They are quite reserved and rarely uses their voice. you could say that they liked their calm little life, so much as to go out from their way to make other people disinterested in them or avoid others as much as possible.

saiki!reader who gets exposed for having high spiritual energy when the Serpos attack the school. And thus being forced to fight these local-creepy-old-man looking... aliens?? Good grief.

saiki!reader who altered the memories of those who saw the three naked. hm? Ofcourse its only the lovebirds and the third-wheel. what? Did you really think they would be caught naked in front of the whole school? over their dead body.

saiki!reader who is now being constantly followed by the little group of friends that wont stay so little, and they dont get why? They helped them that ONE time. It doesnt mean they could be disturbing his peace everyday?

saiki!reader who isnt escaping the group's question of how they go their psychic abilities, when did they get their psychic abilities, what they can do with their psychic abilities... and the list goes on. And they have to expect this moutain of questions whenever a new member joins.

saiki!reader who rarely participates in fights but if they do its gonna be effortlessly flashy. They prefer to attack from a distance where the enemy wouldnt spot them, putting them at a disadvantage.

saiki!reader who saves their asses when they are in trouble. And they demand coffe jelly as a repayment.

saiki!reader who offers a listening ear for momo and okarun, letting them ramble about how much they love eachother and the people who deem as a competitor for their love. And in return the psychic just tells them how much of a coward they are and yapping their ears off wont magically get them together, so they better muster up that courage and confess. Like its not going to cut off their head. and if they dont they have no ballz (one of them certainly doesnt have em).

saiki!reader who helps with chores around Seiko's house, such as cleaning and buying groceries as a way to repay her kindness that many doesnt seem to appreciate.

saiki!reader who caught the attention of evil eye, he deems them as a worthy rival. And now on top of fighting litteral aliens, searching for balls and being the personal therapist of 2 lovebirds they also need to keep watch from getting jumped by a possessed athlete? End their misery.

saiki!reader whos a victim of momo's fashion show. She says she loves their (unintentional) pink and green aestethic and begs for them to try just fewwwww of outfits that she claims to be just their style.

saiki!reader who combines their hydrokinesis and pyrokinesis powers when jiji turns into the evil eye.

saiki!reader who is grateful for their annoying friends.

© 2025 sillyhanako ━ do not copy, steal, or reupload my works. Thanks!

[marstonsboy]

had another evil thought that spiralled out of control. indulge me for a moment:

over the years, people start arriving on a near empty plot of land west of blackwater. it’s uncertain who got there first: bessie matthews, beatrice and lyle morgan, eliza, isaac morgan, etc.— but more and more people show up until it’s something of a community. jenny kirk, mac and davey callander. then soon after, jake adler, sean macguire, kieran duffy, hosea matthews, lenny summers, molly o’shea, eagle flies, susan grimshaw. more and more in such a short amount of time. arthur morgan is the last, and suddenly the deaths stop.

after a sudden stretch of years with little newcomers, a house starts taking shape. soon enough the house is a home, and peculiar things can be found all over: a dog barking where no one can find it. echoes of campfire songs going late into the night. photos of john and abigail’s wedding, attended by what remained of their family. a taxidermy squirrel that appears back on the mantle no matter how many times you throw it out, wearing a very familiar hat. in just a few years a heartbreakingly young girl comes home, bearing a strong resemblance to one abigail marston.

then, gunshots. john marston and uncle are the next to arrive.

in the next few years, the house is eerily quiet. the residents see it falling into disrepair, but they can’t do anything about it. the dog stops barking, the campfire has gone cold and won’t relight. abigail marston is next, and though they’re happy to see her, the arrival brings up a question. what happens to jack now?

the livestock are gone, and the house is dusty, all but stripped of the knickknacks and personality that built up over the years, like someone found it all too painful to look at. john’s hat and guns, once tucked away inside a box beneath the bed, vanish the night after abigail arrives. newspapers come to the door, announcing the death of former government agent edgar ross.

soon after, a wanted poster, bearing the name “john marston jr.” and a sketch resembling the boy’s namesake so much that it has john himself stumbling back. jack was only a boy when he left, and now he’s wanted dead or alive, with a price over his head that could rival some of his uncles and aunts back in the day.

every year that passes without any sign of jack is a relief. the house doesn’t change much, still abandoned, but letters come in. mary-beth gaskill, tilly jackson, simon pearson, sadie adler, charles smith— old friends and family, checking in on him. none of them reach the recipient, as he is not home, but they’re filled to the brim with love, letting him know that he isn’t alone. that he always has a home with them, if he wants it.

one day, john spots a book he doesn’t recognize on the shelf by the piano, and he stops. “Red Dead” by a J. Marston. it doesn’t take much to figure out who that could be. he opens it, flips through, and reads it to abigail. the kinder parts get read to their daughter, ecstatic to learn about how her older brother is doing. their son did become a writer after all, even if everything he’s written speaks volumes of his grief, his anger. the loneliness he’s endured since losing his family, and killing edgar ross.

arthur morgan opens his old journal to find several entries and sketches from john, but also many new ones from jack. his handwriting is just as clumsy as his father’s, but his drawings are more refined. little portraits of the gang members that lived and scribbly sketches of what the world is becoming in their absence decorate the pages. war, cars outnumbering horses, and a very detailed drawing of a revolver none of them have ever seen before.

he’s all grown up, and good lord is he angry. he’s mourning, and hurt, and he’s lost so much, but he’s still undoubtedly jack marston. he draws dogs and writes about missing rufus, slipping strays some food from his bag whenever he sees them. sometimes he’ll write a dry, sarcastic joke that speaks of his father’s influence, or mention missing his momma’s cooking, “even though it was hardly edible,” which makes abigail roll her eyes. he hates fishing and prefers to lose hours of the day with his nose in a book. the best maintained part of beecher’s hope is the graves on that hill, which gain new flowers every week. sometimes, if they listen close, they can hear him talking, telling his ma and pa what he’s been up to, though he saves the grisly details for his book.

and when jack marston finally does walk through that door, much older than when anyone he knew last saw him but far too young to die, he is welcomed home with open arms. because no matter what he’s done, and no matter how much he may hate himself, he will always have a home here with people who love him, and who can’t wait to get to know him all over again.

[the-ace-with-spades]

My train ride thoughts:

You know all those memory loss fics where they have an accident and forget the past five years they've been married and still think they're rivals? Can we move it slightly to the left and reverse a bit?

Jake and Bradley dated from 2006 to 2010. Bradley did the breaking up - in a brilliant act of self-sabotage, not because he didn't love him, but because he loved him enough to think Jake deserved someone better than Bradley.

Fast forward to 2017 and the mission training - Jake is the one to have an accident, not Javy, and has to eject. He has a head injury (among other things) and is medavac'ed.

He won't fly the mission, but he's mostly okay. However, the first thing Jake asks Javy when they finally let him see him is, "Where is Bradley? Why is he not here? Did something happen to him?" which opens a whole other can of worms.

Turns out, Jake thinks it's the summer of 2010, about three months before he and Bradley had broken up. He didn't say anything in front of the medical staff because his mind still thinks DADT is in place and he doesn't want any of them in trouble. So Javy has to break it to him that 1) it's 2017, which Jake's reply to that is just, Yeah, you looked kinda old (rude!) and 2) well, DADT no longer exists and no one can officially penalize him for being gay.

Which is enough to make Jake cry. And Javy doesn't continue with the whole 'So, Bradley broke up with you 7 years ago' because Jake starts mumbling different things like, We can get married. Oh god, are we married already? Where's my ring? Did I lose it in the accident? Where's Bradley, why did they not call my Next of Kin?

Because, you know, even in 2010 he thought he and Bradley are forever, surely they must still be together and probably married. Which, Javy shouldn't be surprised because he knows Jake had a whole wedding planner, children's names list, house decor theme, and god knows what prepared for them.

And Javy is not going to break his heart, AGAIN, so he chickens out and instead calls a nurse to tell her all about Jake's amnesia. They take Jake away for more tests and exams and just as he is rolled away, he shouts at Javy to 'Tell Bradley I'm okay when he comes in, he worries so bad when hospitals are involved'.

So Javy calls Bradley. Just calls him and tells him to come to the hospital and tell amnesiac Jake they've broken up because he's not explaining it to Jake himself. In truth, Javy doesn't even know why Bradley broke up with Jake but he didn't give him a reason beyond 'we just don't match' and Javy had been also pretty sure Bradley was as much of a goner as Jake and he hates Bradley for making him be so wrong.

Javy avoids the topic as much as he can, but he's not actually expecting Bradley to show up - why would he care now, right? - but just as Jake starts drilling the question, Bradley steps into the room..

Not only does he step in, he lets Jake hug him straight away

Bradley's also brought a bag of clothes and they must be his own because where the heck would he find Jake's and, oh, look at that, that's Texas Cowboys pajamas and Jake asks, "I still have this thing? God, it's so worn out," and Javy chokes on his own tongue. Sure enough, there's a mix of t-shirts that must belong to both Jake and Bradley and a new pair of sweats and those socks must be Bradshaw's because there's no way Jake would wear plane-themed socks.

"Do you have my wedding ring? Or did I lose it forever somewhere in the field?" Jake asks and Bradshaw looks spooked before the bastard recovers and covets under Jake's sad eyes and say, "No, you didn't, our rings are still in the locker room on the base."

And Javy just--stares at him.

"I promise I'll bring them tomorrow."

Javy stares harder.

Why did you not tell him? is what Javy spits out as soon as they leave the room and Bradley's reply is just Why didn't you, huh? and they just stand there pointing at each other like in the Spiderman meme.

Well, Bradshaw will have to explain himself because he sure as hell isn't going to magically produce wedding rings tomorrow morning.

And Javy is proven fucking wrong again because Bradshaw brings TWO wedding rings, with their NAMES engraved and a little thin band with Jake's birthstone that matches the wedding band perfectly.

Javy is speechless but Jake just shines with, oh, they're so pretty, put it back on me, I knew I have good taste.

And Bradshaw is all innocent when he says, "Actually, I chose them. They're made from my parents' melted wedding rings."

And Javy can't tell if he made that up on the spot or not. [He did not.]

And so the lies fucking go on. Jake is discharged, but not for flying, and to keep up the little charade, Javy packs all his things and brings them to Bradshaw's place - where Jake will be staying until they come back from the mission.

And of course, Bradshaw and his--whatever his issues with Maverick are make it onto the Dagger Team. Javy can only imagine the tearful goodbye 2010 Jake would give his married man, sweet husband Bradley.

"You've gotta fucking come back because if you don't, he's going to fucking find out he's not your husband when the will comes out."

And Bradshaw, just like that, replies, "He's the only person in my will anyway."

(Dunno how this would end tho, this is where I had to change trains and I forgot after...)

[katerinaaqu]

Okay for once yes they do. That is why they do it after all. A ruler CAN be ruler by marriage and oftentimes in myth some lines are jumped over for the sakes of a husband. For instance Menelaus is king of Sparta by marriage after he married Helen and that happened before the deaths of her brothers Castor and Pollux. Either of them could be king of Sparta and yet Menelaus ruled Sparta after the marriage with Helen. Not to mention the other offspring Tyndareus's brother Icarius had. So, for once marriage is perfectly valid way for someone claim the throne and the suitors were not just punks from the street. They were nobles and in a way princes of their own right given how they also do seem to have a semi-autonomy.

So whoever had Penelope as a wife would rule Ithaca and technically "adopt" Telemachus (and even that wouldn't be a dilemma considering they were planning to kill him anyways)

Telemachus was also arguably not of age just yet to rule. Despite the fact that we do see kings take over that early or even earlier (as we see for example by Diomedes or Neoptolemus) Telemachus was assumed not to be of age just yet (Odysseus said that Telemachus would take over "when he would grow his beard" which usually in antiquity was said to happen somewhere between the final 20s or early 30s so Telemachus was not old enough to rule by Ithaca standards which is why he called the council of Ithaca in the Odyssey and still didn't manage to do something spectacular apart from reminding everyone his existence. He had a certain level of authority as yet the heir of Odysseus but he had no real authority of his kingdom. The only authority he seemed to have or at least to claim was "master of his house" and he would in theory have the authority to send Penelope back to her father so that they would determine her dowry. Not to mention they were planning to murder Telemachus anyways.

Three dunno if you remember but Penelope IS the Regent. Odysseus left her in charge in his name till Telemachus "grew his beard". So the suitors had one more reason to marry her. Because Penelope really held royal authority. But even if she wasn't royalty of Ithaca by blood the suitors were. In other words they would claim regency by Penelope while establishing their own line of heirs to replace the one of Telemachus. Penelope was not Ithacan or Cephallinian but THEY were. It is no coincidence that the suitors of Penelope came exclusively from within the kingdom of the Cephallinians. Also Icarius who was still alive at that time maintained relations with Ithaca via his daughter's marriage which he wouldn't wish to lose thus he was in full support on the claims of marriage and he would assist the establishment of the suitors to the throne.

Icarius in fact had also picked Eurymachus as his favorite candidate because of his wealth and influence.

So...no I am afraid the suitors had every claim to the throne by marrying Penelope and they would also block Odysseus line of succession by establishing their own future sons as heirs. Moreover they were already in touch with Icarius to make sure that their claim would be supported regardless. And it was also another reason they were in a hurry to take the throne BEFORE Telemachus became of age and they took advantage of Penelope's regency but also since they all proclaimed Odysseus dead after the return of the last king, Menelaus, back to Sparta, and took advantage of the cultural demand of a widow to remarry regardless of her political power and tried to pressure that belief. Penelope on the other hand tried to buy some time till her husband returned or till her son became of age to rule.

I hope this helps. The suitors definitely had many hopes and claims to the throne which is why they insisted so much.

Here's a fun little Odyssey fact for ya.

Assuming the Odyssey itself is supposed to take place around ancient Mycenean times, aka the ancient greece of ancient greece (as most myths kinda do), then the suiters have no reason to fight for Penelopes hand at all.

If we were to follow mycenean royal structure, a regent would be appointed to rule Ithica in Odysseus' place until either Odysseus returns, or Telemachus is old enough to become king should his father not survive the war/journey back home.

This means that the suitors would have no right to the throne whatsoever and are violating the succession norms, acting more like usurpers.

If we try to match the timeline, Telemachus would already be between 19 to 20 years old when the final arc of the Odyssey happens, which all things considered would be old enough to assume the throne, at least by ancient life span standards. And if not, a regent would still be the one in charge until he is.

Basically, fighting for Penelope's hand does not in any way bring the suitors closer to the Ithican throne. Not to mention that Penelope herself is a member of the Ithican royal family by marriage, not by blood. This means that, if I'm correct, Penelope would lose her title as queen consort the moment her husband is presumed dead.

So, long story short, the suitors are just terrible guests overstaying their welcome, Telemachus should have already been king by the time Odysseus got home, and Antonius, or whatever his name is, is just a giant Alpha Sigma whiny bitch of an asshole.

[signanothername]

Hey, so i saw your answered asks about how you portray platonic relationships as just as deep and valuable as romantic relationships, and I just want to say I really appreciate it.

As a cupioromantic, though I do really desire a relationship like that it has only ever been because there's so much more that is societally acceptable to do with a partner than a friend. I want to hug my bestie more often, hold hands with them all the time and give them kisses. I want to say 'I love you' to them and have everyone understand that it is strictly platonic. But unfortunately that isn't how the world works. (As emphasis, I even got bullied off of reddit once pretty much because I made a post about getting a gf and everyone kept telling me that I wasn't actually aro)

I honestly don't even know what I'm saying anymore. It's not like you drawing skeletons being hyperaffectionate without sexiness or romance involved will change the world. But it has certainly changed mine. I feel more comfortable and validated in my identity than ever before. I just want to say thank you for that.

(You don't have to respond btw, I understand it might be awkward. I just really need to get this out. Sorry-)

Ah yes, the world continues to be arophopic and people being rude and making assumption about relationships that doesn’t concern them as per usual 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Idk what’s hard about looking at two people being extremely affectionate and instead of thinking “wow they’re romantically involved” they think “wow they have a happy relationship whatever it may be”, it’s not that hard not to make assumptions and accept something as ambiguous until it’s explicitly stated

But alas, the human nature continues to not surprise me with its usual insensitivity

I’m sorry you had to endure that bullshit, you absolutely are a valid Aro and you absolutely can be in a relationship and still be Aro, never let anyone tell you otherwise <3

Not all Aros want to stay alone in a house, having a stable connection with someone, wanting to grow old with someone, isn’t inherently romantic in nature, and you can absolutely desire that stable connection and still be Aro af

But I’m genuinely glad my portrayal of these skelles made you feel validated, you deserve to feel validated <3333

Here’s some more affectionate skelles for you <333

[formerplumi]

( crow choir. entry one ) ── dust of snow ( m.s | prev/next )

author's note at the end

you have three older brothers- no, two older brothers. you’ve only heard of the third. you can hardly think of them as such, feeling traitorous to your old family… families. but you are also a lonely child, so you give them permission to be props of your plain life.

the eldest, with stark blue eyes and dimples at his near-permanent smiles is named richard grayson. he’d given you a warm grin the day you arrived, that somewhat wavered at the blank look you hoped you gave him. you don’t talk to him, but sometimes you wish you did.

you know nothing of the second, apart from his first name; jason. the usual answers to unasked questions, that piece together via general conversations, don’t form here, and you can’t be bothered to ask. you wonder where he is, does he not come to visit?

the youngest of the three is older than you, tim drake the butler says, by maybe one or two years, you never tried to figure it out. he came to the house about a few months after you arrived, but seems far more involved with bruce’s business than you ever will be (ever hope to be). there’s a familiar twitch to his brows, and you relate it to old inquisitive roommates, the ones that tried to figure you out without asking questions and always gave up eventually. 

it's a relief he doesn't even try at all.

it does feel a little odd, to not have to talk to anyone just to shoo them away. you strangely miss it, the feeling of being irritated at bothersome small talk. in the silence of the manor, which had not much for a child to do, you start to feel lonely

you've never felt lonely before. alone, yes, isolated, absolutely, but lonely? you've never wanted company. not from anyone who wasn't... forget it.

and thus, you're in an odd situation. you want to be a part of the family, but you have no interest in talking to them. why, the mere idea makes you sweat all over, and you prefer your few meals in your room.

you don't like it. wanting so badly to converse with your brothers, get to know them the way you knew your old previous foster-care siblings, but not being able to.

in your old houses, the children would be somewhat put into forced proximity, there was no choice other than to call out for company. you'd gotten absurdly used to being reached out to without having to do it yourself. your brothers must be busy, or you must be too quiet for them to notice you around.

so with all the courage you could muster, you crept up to an idle older brother, visiting after so long from bludhaven. you might implode from the short moment where he looked at you with confusion, not knowing who you are, before giving you a awkward smile of acknowledgement. no matter, it's not his fault.

he nods off your subtle attempt at asking for his time, maybe you're not being clear enough? it's enough to put you off, so you leave quickly after he gives you a small promise to talk later, maybe get out of the house for a while.

it's such a small thing, but it makes you embarrassed. you try to build up a little stubbornness, and look to find tim. but when you find him immersed deeply in a book, a journal of some sort, you decide otherwise and leave.

it's okay. you'll try again! when you're feeling better. better and livelier.

livelier.

but it feels so surreal, and the familiarity of huddling into your own ice cold limbs for warmth is a comfort you can't let go off just yet. you mustn't allow these new privileges to make you forget who you are. what you are, and what you deserve.

your patterned quilt does little to keep away the monstrous cold of gotham's winter nights, and does it wreck though your nerves and leave you shivering.

the butler; alfred, had given you a good understanding of the room's systems, yet another thing that'd take time to get used to, and you knew the switches that would connect your vents to the central heating system.

you recall a young boy in one of your old homes, discussing earnestly with your 'sisters' about what he'd do if he had all of gotham's money. the prospect of being filthy rich had always irked you to a small degree, to be well-off when others struggle. was it guilt? 

he'd gone on and on about the different things he'd get. a curly-haired poodle, a shining red bicycle, clothes that made him look like a proper gentleman, from a gentler city. you wonder solemnly where he is now, wishing you could share the fortunes you've been shoved into with him. someone who wanted it, deserved it.

deserving... deserving something is odd. whatever makes an individual deserving of something? the hardships they recieve, and the hardships they pass out?

you don’t remember your mother, having gained metaphorical consciousness at the age of six, when your sister started taking care of you instead. you made out from her teary, drunk mumblings that she was an awfully sophisticated woman. she’d colour herself with red blushes and redder lip stains, wear family jewels she refused to sell to her ‘business’ meetings. thin-framed glasses with the eyes of a vixen’s. 

what your sister muttered most about was her many nights away from home. one-sided conversations that plunged a small anchor to your heart, because you knew you were a product of one of them. 

when she was in a bitter mood, your sister never shied away from berating you for your existence. she, unlike you, was born in wedlock. yes, to an unhappy couple, who threw picture frames and cheap souvenirs at each other before splitting up, but she knew her father.

a ridiculously strange thing to hold above one’s head. “i knew my absent father. no one knows yours.” but your depraved heart and dull mind took it so deeply. so, so deeply. 

were those hardships? did you deserve them? others have it worse, right? so do you deserve this? this wealth?

now that you do know your father, you can’t help but resent the idea of knowing. did he know? that he left his child to an unbecoming family and an irresponsible sister? did he know that the guilt of starving your sister to eat yourself made you so incredibly weak-minded at the idea of being full? did he know that you refuse to switch the heater on in the cold, because you don’t know if your old foster siblings got the same luxury? all while the elites of gotham stay in their glasshouses with their rose gardens and wine cupboards.

you can’t put your finger to it. it’s not jealousy, it’s not resentment, it’s not hatred for his absence so far… is it guilt?

you don't know what to do with this abundance of luxury. you’ve lived a lifetime of pet mice from old caretakers, mice that died from the dust that creeped out of cracked floor boards and owls that haunted your window sills. a lifetime of reminiscing about a sobbing woman in your apartment, thinking about all your promises of providing a better life for her, only for her to die in front your eyes. a lifetime of wondering why mommy didn’t come back. why daddy's never there. who daddy even is.

someone else should have it. someone else should have the option to ask the butler for a piece of chocolate pastry at an odd time. to know about their father after countless days of not knowing him. to feel pretty in new dress suits after years of wearing the same two sets of clothes every week.

someone who deserves it more.

your sister.

you miss her.

small, small things. that troubeled you too much, made you decide it was time to leave. running away from reality in the comfort of your mind when you zone out, is not much different from physically running away, right? troublesome things are not worth the trouble. so you'll run away, and you'll be free. of duties you were never given.

small events make you change too fast for even your own liking. small things made you so desperately attached to your big sister, small things made you so frightened, so ill, to try to talk to brothers who barely knew you only by your shadow. small things made you tolerate your father more, and mourn the fact you couldn't ever connect to him the way the others did.

yet another one of gotham’s teenage misfortunes. who leaves a home of riches with a light mind, with the desires of soaring through lost years in gotham like the daftest of pigeons, with no worries or vows. they leave a home of blood and bonds with a heavy heart, lamenting that this time, the choice to leave a permanent, forever family lay on them. they left unspoken conversations unsaid, and imaginary memories within their imagination.

...but, these conversations, these fake memories, become the objects of obsession, for those left behind.

where's the little crow who stalked the corridors, whose naive, cloudy eyes watched from behind walls?

alfred, where's (name)?

INTERACTIONS AND REBLOGS VV APPRECIATED !! incase it was unclear, the sections jump around in the timeline. i did want to leave it to reader interpretation, but since this is the footer, there's no harm in explaining. "you have three brothers..." and "your patterned quilt does little..." are interchangeable within the plot. both are placed after tim's given the mantle of robin, but before jason's re-entry as the red hood. the last part however, is well after both, and damian's entry. anyway you can consider this entry as like, a vague plot summary? there's a lot that happens in between and after, most of the story is about after, but i like setting the ground for this stuff.

once again, if you are interested in the series, do interact! comments, reblogs, etc are so appriciated, to anyone who posts on tumblr! i'll try to get the next entry in by maybe next week, but school's gonna start up on the 13th, so i can't confirm anything.

thank you for reading!!

[ladyeyrewrites]

💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭 MORE PLEASE I LOVE THIS SERIES

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Thanks so much anon! I've been blown away with the response to what I've posted so far. I'll probably start posting this on Ao3 later this week once I've got a bit more backlog built up. Have a little Tommy POV:

Tommy holds it together until Evan is calm enough to listen to the doctor explain next steps. He keeps himself in check, his weakness at bay, even though all he wants to do is breakdown and scream.

He tires to smile encouragingly as an orderly wheels Evan away to take him for a brain scan, but it’s strained. As the door closes behind Evan, Tommy slumps into the chair next to Evan’s bed and buries his head in his hands. He waits for tears to come.

They don’t, despite the fact he can feel them pressing against his eyelids, they refuse to fall.

“He’ll be okay.” Maddie places a hand on his shoulder and Tommy shudders, instinctively shying away from comfort before he forces himself to be still and accept it.

“What if he never remembers?” Tommy asks. “What if he decides he’d rather live a different life?” A different life than the one they’ve built together. A life without Tommy. And as devastating as this is, there’s a part of Tommy that’s not even all that shocked.

Four three years, he’s been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And here it is, Tommy flattened underneath its rubber sole.

That little voice that he thought had quieted down is back, the one that lurks in the back of his mind, whispering that he doesn’t deserve to be happy, that his relationship with Evan is a fluke, a cosmic mistake, that he was never meant to be the forever guy after all. Evan’s forever is still out there somewhere waiting for him. If Evan wants a divorce, Tommy won’t protest.

If?

Who’s Tommy kidding? Of course, Evan will want a divorce. As far as Evan knows, he’s twenty-five-years old and straight. He’s still in his Buck 1.0 days. Or is he an even earlier version because he’s not even Buck yet?

This Evan, this proto-Buck, has never been in a serious relationship, has never held a long-term lease, barely has a credit history because of all the under-the-table work and crashing at friends houses he’s done. Tommy really would be this Evan’s first.

“Breath, Tommy,” Maddie says and for the first time, Tommy realises his breathing is fast and ragged. He’s hyperventilating. Head spinning.

Spinning. Vision dark.

He squeezes his eyes tight and tries to breathe along with Maddie’s counts: in-two-three-four, hold-two-three-four, out-two-three-four. Over and over until warmth returns to his face. He opens his eyes and gives Maddie a weak smile. “I’m good,” he says.

“You’re really not,” she replies. “Neither am I.”

“Ten years,” he says. “Ten fucking years.” He shouldn’t be angry. It’s not Evan’s fault this happened. As far as Tommy’s been told, there wasn’t time to issue an evacuation order before the roof collapsed on top of Evan. Tommy knows he should be relieved that Evan made it out alive. That the fire was nearly out by the time the roof collapsed. That Evan escaped with no burns or broken bones, only bruises and a gaping hole where their life together should be.

[suguslve]

‧˚꒰🍷꒱༘‧— 7 MINUTES OF HEAVEN IN HELL

synopsis: you’d been doing an excellent job at avoiding Lucifer these past few days—you kept your distance, stayed busy, kept your focus elsewhere—but of course, fate had other ideas. Getting stuck in a small closet with him was definitely not part of your plan, yet here you were.

♰ pairings. lucifer morningstar x afab!reader

♰ genre. smut (porn with plot unfortunately)

♰ warnings. fingering. reader gets called doll by Luci like…twice i think. she also gets called whore and slut :P

♰ word count. 1.7k

♰ a/n. first ever smut pls go easy on me 😕 YES THIS IS PORN WITH PLOT IK I HATE IT TOO BUT I HAD TO!! enjoy reading and lmk your thoughts!

Ignoring Lucifer wasn’t something you had planned, not exactly, but under certain circumstances, you had to. It all started one evening when you poured your heart out to him, confessing that you liked him—so much so that the weight of your feelings felt like it could drown you. You were a mess—sweaty palms, nervous gaze, shaky breath—but he stayed calm. "Y/N..." he said, and as you lifted your gaze to meet his, you saw only pity, and cold harsh rejection. Before he could say anything more, you had already turned away, desperate to escape the suffocating tension. You had gotten good at avoiding him, finding company with his brothers instead.

A few days had passed and Asmo decided to host a small, intimate celebration at the House of Lamentation, to honor his milestone of 2 million followers on Devilgram. You sat in his room as you waited for him to finish getting ready, he had insisted that he would be the one to doll you up.

“You know you really should take this chance to stop avoiding Lucifer. The tension between you two is so painfully obvious, everyone can see it! Even Beel can tell!” he said, making finishing touches to his makeup. You rolled your eyes at him. “Uh huh and then what? Face his rejection? I think I’ll pass.” He glanced over at you with a sigh. “Well, maybe he won’t reject you—maybe you’re just overthinking it—” You cut him off.

“Shh! No more Lucifer talk from this point on. I forbid it! Now, are you finally done so you can start dolling me up?” you asked, giving him the cutest puppy eyes. “Fine! Come here. I just got this new makeup palette that would look fab on you.” he said, ushering you to his makeup table.

After hours of hair styling, lipstick swatching, and dress fitting, he was finally done. He motioned for you to stand and turn so he could admire his work. “Perfect! Now no one will be able to take their eyes off you—especially dear old Luci—AHEM, I mean... You better not steal my spotlight okay? Not that you can anyway.” he clasps his hands together as he urged you both outside where the others were waiting.

The night was as lively—as expected from Asmo. You had danced to your heart’s content and drank without any care in the world. As you sat on the sofa, chatting and drinking with Solomon, Asmo stumbled over to you both. “Hey, want to join us? We’re about to play 7 minutes in heaven—well, hell, I guess.” he slurred. You shared a look with Solomon. “Why not?” you said, feeling carefree from all the alcohol, Solomon nodded in agreement. “Perfect! Let’s go then, everyone’s waiting!” Asmo said, cheerfully pulling you both along.

When you arrived, you noticed the group consisted of just the brothers and a few other demons. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lucifer chatting with Barbatos, but you paid it no mind at all. You sat between Mammon and Satan, and to no one’s surprise, Lucifer sat directly across from you, his gaze fixated on you. Great, you thought, this was going to be a long night.

After a few rounds and drinks later, it was finally your turn. Asmo shot you a mischievous glance before spinning the bottle. You stared at the floor, not wanting to know who you’d be paired with. The room fell silent as the bottle came to a stop. You looked around at first before your eyes landed on the bottle—it landed on Lucifer. You were about to protest when you saw him stand up and make his way towards you. Without a word, he took your hand and gently pulled you toward the closet.

Once inside, you quickly pulled your hand away from him. Great—here you were, stuck in a closet with the one demon you were avoiding like the plague, and for 7 minutes no less! You tried to focus on anything but him, grateful for the dim light in the small space. Your dilemma was cut short when you realized the position you were in: you were face-to-face with Lucifer, his thigh positioned in between your legs, his arms placed above you. ‘Oh fuck me.’ you thought. ‘You know what? I could just ignore him for the whole 7 minutes. How hard can that be?’ your thoughts were then interrupted by a deep voice.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” he said, his tone firm. You rolled your eyes but decided to remain silent. He sighed softly before his fingers gently grasped your chin, turning your face to meet his.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes locking with yours, the closeness between you two evident as you smell the faint scent of alcohol lingering on him. “I wasn’t avoiding you.” you answer defensively. He let out a soft chuckle. “You really expect me to believe that?” His voice was low, a hint of teasing lacing his words. You tried to avoid his stare, but it was impossible to look away.

“Was it because of your confession the other day?” he asked, his voice gentle but filled with intensity. You sighed, trying to step back. “No. I’m not doing this with you. Not now, not ever.” You attempted to open the closet door, but before you could, he pulled you back toward him.

“No, we’re doing this now,” he insisted, his grip firm as he turned you to face him. He looked at you for a brief moment, and then, without warning, he cupped your face and kissed you. The kiss was full of intensity, passion, and something deeper—something you couldn't deny. You were taken aback and was about to pull away, but before you could, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you even closer. Everything around you seemed to fade as you gave in, kissing him back with the same intensity. The kiss lasted for what felt like forever before he finally pulled away, breathless.

“This was not how I wanted things to go.” he murmured. “But you’re just so stubborn so I had to take matters into my own hands.” he caressed your face before speaking up.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice low and filled with desperation. You nodded eagerly, your heart racing. “Please.” you whimpered. He let out a soft chuckle, but it was quickly swallowed by him pulling you into another kiss. This kiss was raw, fervent, and intoxicating, leaving you weak in the knees.

His hands gripped your waist possessively, bringing you closer to him as you tangled your fingers in his hair. A deep growl rumbled from his throat before his lips trailed down to your neck. You moaned softly. “Luci, please. I need you.” you gasped, the alcohol fueling your boldness and longing.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? We can—” But before he could finish, you crashed your lips against his. “If you don’t touch me right now,” you whispered breathlessly against his mouth, “I swear I’ll lose my mind.” Without a moment's hesitation, he slowly unzipped your dress, just enough to free your breasts. He immediately captured one with his mouth, while his other hand explored the other. You moaned louder this time, completely unbothered by the possibility of being overheard by the others. His eyes burned with desire as he took in the sight of you.

“Luci— fuck… I need more.” he chuckled as he pulled away from your breast. “Your wish is my command.” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot, before kissing you deeply as his hand went lower.

His hand roamed at your thighs before placing it on your pussy. His chuckle was dark, almost cruel, as his fingers brushed over the thin lace of your panties. “Jesus, doll,” he breathed. “Already this soaked for me? And I barely even touched you.” He hooked a finger under the edge of your panties and tugged them aside. The cool air hit your exposed core, making you flinch, but then his finger was there, brushing over your slick folds, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Fuck.” he muttered, circling your entrance lazily. Without warning, he pushed a finger inside you, curling it just right to press against that spongy spot deep within. You bit your lips harshly at that. He leans in closer to you, his head tilting slightly, as if mocking you. “Yeah? You like that, doll? Like being a good little slut for me?”

This man was going to be the death of you.

You clenched as he added a second finger, stretching you further. His thumb found your clit, rubbing circles that had your vision blurring.

He pulled his fingers out abruptly, leaving you empty and aching, and you whined softly, reaching for him instinctively. But he caught your wrist, pinning it to the wall above your head. His other hand wrapped around your throat. “As much as I’d love to see you cum on my fingers right now, we’re still in the closet. And as much as I want to hear you moan my name over and over, my brothers are still outside, wouldn’t want them hearing how much of a whore you are for me now would we?”

You blinked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. He was right. You fumbled with your dress, your hands shaking as you adjusted your panties and smoothed the fabric back into place.

As you made your way out of the closet you were surprised to see the empty room, the mess of the after-party still scattered about. Lucifer’s chuckle echoed softly, a mix of amusement and something else, as he looked at the scene before him, then he effortlessly lifted you in his arms.
“Well, it seems my foolish brothers have finally managed to use that brain of theirs.” he remarked, his tone teasing, as he carried you toward his room.

“Let’s continue what we started then. I’ll make sure you’ll scream and writhe for me.” he whispers against your lips before kissing you once more.

You knew that you still needed to have a long conversation about the whole confession thing, but you have plenty of time to worry about that. God, you owe Asmo one.

all rights reserved to © suguslve.

[bokettochild]

Not sure if people have already asked this before, but whose roles are whose for your Opera House AU doing Epic the musical?

No one has actually asked this before! I kept kind of hoping they would though, because I felt weird just throwing it out there unprompted, but trust me, I HAVE thought about it before! So, huge thank you for asking!

Odysseus: Warriors. Who else? I mean, come on, lets be real here, the Troy Saga alone has influenced my perspective of Warriors for so long now that it would be an utter and complete SIN to not have Warriors play the guy who is, in so many ways, so much like himself. Granted, OH AU Warriors is less like our Ody and more like Jay himself, but who cares? The vocals are there and Wars has the spirit and skill. Also, he has the range, from the desperation of the Cyclops Saga, the sadness of the Underworld Saga, the fury of the Vengeance Saga and the warmth and tenderness in both Just A Man and Would You Fall In Love With Me. He had the audience on the edges of their seats, and even though he's already a fan favorite at the opera, he reaffirmed that position with this role. It's also been one of his favorites of all time, because it's very rare he gets to play such a fleshed out and complex character, as he's usually cast as a knight in shining armor archetype rather than a blood-covered and desperate soul one second from snapping!

Athena: I actually had to debate this one a bit, but Imma say Lullaby. Warriors' own Zelda is too sweet, and while Dusk herself could do it, I have a better role for her, and Lullaby is so Athena in so many ways, so I went with her instead. She has that strong, authoritative energy, while also being old enough to sell the Goddess of Wisdom vibe, and also the agility to be a warrior herself. Also, I can kinda see her just actually sounding like that when she sings, y'know?

Zeus: They brought Dei in for this role. Time would have, but they needed a couple of convincing individuals for this, and Dei being bigger and physically of a brighter pallet than Time kinda gave him High King and Sky God energy that they just really needed for the stage performance.

Polyphemus: Also Dei. For a stage performance, they actually had a puppet and rigging for the cyclops itself, but Dei's vocal range allowed him to do the voice from off stage quite convincingly. (Four himself was the Puppeteer (lol) for the cyclops though, so he also deserves credit)

Polities: It was Ravio. Typically, Ravio doesn't perform, but he could capture that energy they wanted for Polities and his vocal range is a bit higher than most of the other cast. Wind would have done it, but because of his age, the crew divided against it. After all, Polities isn't a child, but a man, and having Wind in the role would have changed that perception. Hyrule was nervous for the part, but he's actually glad that Polities died within five songs because it meant that he only had to show up on rare occasion as a ghost after that, and spent less time in the spotlight.

Eurylochus: They actually had a bit of a struggle on this one, since none of the team actually has a voice that deep, but Twilight ended up filling the role, since it's got less major singing parts and more speaking bits than a lot of the other characters. It's not as demanding as some of the other roles he could have played (like the gods) and he looks the part of the big, strong, best-friend and advisor to the lead, or at least enough that he was believable. He's not the best actor, but he did a great job all the same; better than anyone else could have done it at any rate!

Poseidon: Time actually played this part! Being a former rock-star has it's advantages, and that includes being able to bleed rage and/or agony into his voice while leaving his audience totally and completely chilled! Being the blocking director and stunt coach also means that he was able to really sell any battle scenes because he was right up in there to guide, coax, and otherwise cover for the cast's mistakes when need be. He admittedly had a TON of fun with the role, and I'd be lying if I said that there weren't;t a few people in the crowd watching who didn't have to pause and wonder where they'd heard his voice before, never mind so many online forums comparing his vocal qualities to famously masked singer Major-A, but, hey, Time considers it worth it, even if the role might have blown his cover.

Aeolus: Who better to play the god of winds than Wind himself? It's a small role, so Time and Lullaby felt comfortable letting him take it, even though this would have been a major production and risk for the opera. The fact that he's kid only helped to sell the care-free and mischievous depiction. He had a TON of fun with the role too, and the audience was eating his performance up!

Circe: Artemis! I wanted one of the divas to do this, and Artemis has the right energy, as well as great on-stage chemistry with Warriors! They broke down into giggles so many times as she attempted to "seduce" him during practice, but it actually turned out really great. She's one of the only gals in the cast who could hit the high notes at the end of There Are Other Ways and really sell the emotional range of Circe's character

Hermes: I actually struggled on this one until it literally just jumped out at me. Wild plays Hermes. He's got the energy, physically and otherwise, and I'm going to say that any dancing included was actually something he just ad-libbed in there, rather than being told to do it by Time or Lullaby. They loved it though and totally kept it in, as well as a few other little quirks he added to the character (they sort of just set him free on stage in the end and told him to go nuts, so most of Warriors' reactions to him are entirely real and not faked at all, lol). Yes, this did result in Wild deciding to address everyone (short of his bosses) as "dawling" for the foreseeable future, but no one could deny that it's been one of his best roles ever!

Tiresias/The Prophet: This one was actually a huge struggle for the crew, because while they have a lot of actors, there's a sort of a limit to who can or cannot portray certain character, and in the end, it was Legend who took the role, despite having other parts to play and a prop and costume crew to supervise for most of the musical. He did a great job though, and you know those animatics that sort of depict No Longer You as a sort of twisted waltz? Yeah, the cast went with that, and it was a good thing Legend played the role, because he's the only one who can actually dance blindfolded! He also carried the weight of the song very well, and between him and Warriors, they gave the audience absolute chills!

Odysseus's Mother: Malon! It was a small appearance, so even though she's technically not an actress, and is actually a musical coach, she was happy to join on the production if it was just for one song. Yes, everyone cried. Warriors' tears were entirely real in that scene and everyone else was hard pressed to not show it when their turns came to sing.

Scylla: For some reason I Can Not Explain, I just really want Legend to have told everyone "I know a gal" and just dragged Hilda in to play this role. But, since she isn't an actress, and probably wouldn't want to be one, I'm going to say Fable took it instead. She doesn't give Monster Girl energy, but like her twin, she's very adept, and really gave everyone the creeps even before Styla made her up like a monster lady! Her vocals are chilling, and she really enjoyed reading up on the lore of her character and trying to let it bleed in through her voice to sound more like a tortured soul, punished by the gods and made out as a monster to mortals due to her horrific appearance (and man eating, but details!).

Calypso: Believe it or not, Sun sold this role like the queen she is! Her innocent, almost angelic look really contrasted the horrible behavior but also total ignorance of the character, and I actually think she'd sound similar to Barbara Wangui when she sings, so having her in the role feels right. Granted, she doesn't give "Island Goddess" in the same way that Marin would, but Marin is probably dead in the OH AU, and wouldn't join the opera anyway, so yeah.

Penelope/Siren: (I'm pretty sure it's the same actress for both, but even if not, that's how the crew did it!) Dusk was the only option for this role, and she rocked it! She's got the range, got the mature look of a woman who's been waiting 20 years for her beloved to come home (totally helped by the fact that she spent 17 years waiting for her actual love to reappear), and while she and Warriors did have to work quite a bit to sell the right dynamic on stage, they are both talented actors, and did a great job together. She actually really had fun with the siren role, and her screams as the sirens are slain were positively blood-curdling! She half sacred Warriors to death when he first heard it and he still shiver slightly even when they finally perform.

Telemachus: I debated this one so hard, because each member of the cast has a certain energy and none quite match Telemachus, but in the end, again, Legend filled the role, since he's good at taking the ones that no one else can do and adapting as need be to suit it. Is it sort of method acting if he can relate to the character and thus capture the emotion better? Who knows, but despite playing the prophet as well, a costume change and intermission can do wonders for helping a guy get into character as the opposite of what he was an hour ago! He's also got the stunt training and skill to pull off fight scenes well, and look like he's bad at it, as well as a good irl dynamic with Lullaby that they definitely leaned into for their songs together. As for the Ithica saga songs, well, he and Warriors had to work really hard, given their actual dynamic, to try and sell their parts, but they're both talented actors and they made it through in the end.

Antinous: Don't come for me, but Sky actually ended up taking this role! He's a talented actor, with a special skill for action scenes and fights, as well a great depth of emotion and, despite being an utter teddy bear in actuality, he plays a killer villain! Did Legend and he end up laughing their asses off after having to act like they hated each other? yes, but they kept in character as long as they were on stage and Sky's voice tends to give people chills when he sings, so he really could set the mood well, as well as keeping pace with Legend and giving their scenes together some great energy. It scares the rest of the cast how quick he can switch from softie to scary monster man, but there's a reason he's one of the best!

(Note: I feel like after a while if they decide to revisit the musical, Hyrule might be at a place where he'd be able to play Telemachus, but as it stands in the AU, he doesn't have the confidence needed to basically carry a whole act just yet. He has the vocals quality to sell the character though! And, while Legend's great at his job, Hyrule does look/feel more the part of the sheltered and stumbling young man without a guide or guardian to show him the way. Time and Lullaby probably wanted to cast him, but since Hyrule wasn't ready, they asked Legend instead.)

As for some of the other roles, the team had a ton of fun using puppets for the winions, and various not on stage actors got to voice them via mics! Think sort of Jim Henson style puppets though, since they are mental to be a sort of comedy relief.

The various suitors were played by all the guys who had been 'killed off' previously in the show, with the exception of Dei and Time, whose voices are too notable, and Legend who, of course, is currently playing Telemachus. Same thing for the army, although they did pre-record some of the bits where there's supposed to be more of a crowd, since they can only fit so many people on stage and wanted to really sell the idea of 600 men or 108 suitors, or the countless dead in the underworld, ect. They did hire a bunch of extras for crowd scenes, and used puppets and various other effects to sell the appearance of crowds where they could, but I don't feel the need to state who every extra is LOL.

So yeah! That's how it would go! Thank you again for this ask! It's been a delight to talk about a musical I actually understand, as well as adore! Especially considering I'm working on LU animatics for it even now!

Feel free to ask anything else you'd like, even if someone else might have asked already, because I have a big mouth and I like to talk, and I might have more thoughts now than I did previously!