On A Scale Of 1-10, What Is Your Fav Colour Of The Alphabet?
On a scale of 1-10, what is your fav colour of the Alphabet?
Mine is square.
Mine is glome
More Posts from Clopeh-sekka and Others
reblog if ur currently scrolling tumblr to procrastinate writing ur fanfic
Polites. Polites I fucking love you. I love you, I have always loved you and I will always love you.
If there are one million Polites fans, I am one of them.
If there is one Polites fan, that is me.
If there are no polites fans, the very concept of my existence has been wiped from every universe and timeline.
No one could ever make me hate you polites, you can never do any wrong and you are perfect.
If Polites was alive during 'keep your friends close' then odysseus would have just been napping on polites lap and polites would be glaring at the crew like 'I may greet the world with open arms but I swear to the gods I will greet your face with my tightly closed fist if you try to get this bag open.' He would look at Eurylochus and go 'Try me, I dare you. Try and get this bag open and see how well that goes for you. I swear Eury, do NOT test me.'
Polites > everyone else ever
This poll was submitted to us. If you’d like to send us your own scenario (plus different ways a character might react to said scenario) so we could make a poll for you, feel free to send them to our inbox.
Bout to start writing a time travel fix it fic for epic where some random crew member gets sent back in time after being murked by zeus. His name is Steven-dave and I love him already.
Holy shit, I've been scrolling through the Zolu tag for about six or seven minutes now and I've already come across like five of those accounts that are literally just porn. I don't want to go onto the zolu tag and see naked/semi-naked women. I go on the zolu tag to see the other people who are as critically invested in these brilliant men who love eachother unfathomably, not for boobs.
*slaps ceasar on the back* this guy can take so much stabbing!
presented without commentary or apology
The night hung heavy with anticipation as the neon glow of the city's underbelly illuminated the makeshift racetrack. The air crackled with the energy of imminent competition, and the distant hum of engines hinted at the approaching storm.
Amidst the throng of racers, Diana revved the engine of her cherry pink Chevrolet Corvette, the sleek curves of the sports car gleaming under the neon lights. The scent of burning rubber permeated the air as she eyed her opponent, the legendary 'Tyrant' known for his burned orange Toyota Supra MK IV.
Engines roared to life, and the racers edged to the starting line, the anticipation mounting with each passing second. Nick, masked and clad in the shadows of his reputation, revved his Supra's engine, the orange glow of the tail lights casting an eerie aura around the car.
With a signal, the race exploded into motion. Tires screeched as the two vehicles catapulted into the night, streaks of cherry pink and burned orange leaving trails of color in their wake. The city became a blur as they navigated the winding streets, each turn a test of skill and nerve.
Diana's Corvette, agile and daring, hugged the curves with precision. The roar of her engine harmonized with the pulsating beat of the city, creating a symphony of speed. Nick's Supra, a manifestation of controlled power, surged forward like a burning comet, the orange glow illuminating the darkness.
The roar of engines intertwined with the pulsating beat of the city, and amidst the chaos, Nick's Supra and Diana's Corvette danced, each maneuver a carefully calculated step in their high-speed ballet. The neon-lit streets became their canvas, and the race, their masterpiece.
As the racers hurtled through the urban labyrinth, each strategically timed drift and acceleration became a subtle exchange of wits. The neon-lit streets transformed into a high-stakes chessboard, where every move could be the difference between victory and defeat.
The crowd lining the racetrack erupted into cheers, their voices blending with the roar of the engines. In the heart of the race, amidst the adrenaline and rivalry, Diana and Nick pushed their cars to the limit. The finish line loomed, a distant beacon in the chaos.
As the finish line neared, the air crackled with the tension of uncertainty. In a photo finish, the two cars crossed the line simultaneously, leaving the outcome hanging in the balance. The crowd erupted into cheers, and even in the anonymity of their masks, the exchange of glances between Diana and Nick spoke volumes.
The silence that followed was broken by the announcement, "It's a tie!" The racetrack echoed with the revelation, and in that moment, Diana earned her moniker as 'the Empress.' The mysterious 'Tyrant' had found an equal, and the legend of their rivalry had begun.
