#it was fine when i didn't know helen

[anditendshowyoudexpect]

oh so that's where Liv's Tania is from

this is what i get for listening out of order

[scar-lie]

Omega Pt. 18 (Natasha)

Summary : you're annoyed at Natasha and took some memories with your family

Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Fem Reader

Warning : Cut, bruises I think that's all

Word count : 2,132

Series Masterlist

Cherrylemontober

{OMEGA PT. 17} {OMEGA PT. 18} {OEMGA T. 19}

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

“Does it still hurt? "You gently sat besides her while she's busy tending to her wounds. You felt bad when she was quickly sent out for a mission when she got home; her bruises and her ribs weren't fully healed when she was called out for a day mission, and now there's cuts added to her already beaten body.

Of course she talked to you first before she was sent off, reassuring you and making sure that you're fine before she leaves again.

“Not much, but it still stings a bit.” It's been 2 days since she came home from the mission, and it hurts you every time you see her cleaning her wounds that Natasha tries to avoid showing you her bruises and wounds.

“Let me help you.” You took cotton balls and rubbed alcohol to clean the area of the wound on her right waist.

“I can do it, you know.” Natasha didn't stop you but watched you closely, but you shook your head determined to help her.

“I know, but I still wanna help you,” Natasha winces when you dab the cotton with rubbing alcohol on her wound.

"Sorry,” you whisper, but still continue with her hissing at the pain of the alcohol. Once you're sure that the area of her wound is properly clean, you dab a Povidone-iodine with a cotton ball on her wound. After that, you patch her up, moving to the next wound, and do the same until she's all done.

“Thank you,” she whispers, putting on a shirt. She groans when she stretches her limbs, but a sudden frustration gets into you, making you roll your eyes at her.

“What? "Natasha asked, catching your sudden change of mood and turning to face you.

“Tell me,” she whispers, taking your hand and giving you a small smile.

“Nothing, I’m just annoyed,” she said, moving forward, sitting in front of you, and looking you in the eyes.

“Why are you annoyed? ”You close your eyes and look away, thus making Natasha chuckle at how cute you are.

“Don't look at me like that; I can't stay annoyed at you.” You cover your face with your hand.

“Then look at my face, love; I don't want you to be annoyed at me.” She slowly peels off your hands, and you pout at her with a frown.

“Tell me, why are you annoyed? ”You sigh and move to her lap, resting your head on her shoulder, and Natasha quickly wraps her arms around you.

“Cause you're reckless, you always come home with injuries—not just some injuries but serious injuries,” you whisper, scolding her, and she runs her hands through your hair.

“I’m sorry, I promise, I’ll be more careful next time,” you sigh in relief, closing your eyes and turning your head so you're smelling her scent.

“Guess who will be going to the carnival? "She whispered, and you frowned, leaning back to look at her.

“Who? "She gives you a peck and squeezes your hips.

"Us,” she smirks, but you frown, not loving the idea.

“But you're injured; we can't walk around the carnival in your state, plus who will be looking for the pups? ”You start to play with her baby hair at the back of her neck; that gives Natasha some comfort.

“Don't worry, I’m good to walk around and do some activities; Helen approved, plus the team will be with us; they offer to look after them.” You're still not convinced, so she keeps stealing a kiss until you're chuckling.

“Stop, ok, ok, but still you need to take breaks once in a while, ok? "She salutes you, and you roll your eyes at her.

“Yes, whatever my love said and commanded,” you smile and peck her.

“Ok then, jno extreme rides, even the bumper car, you also need to sit at least 10-20 minutes." Natasha quickly makes a sour face, but you ignore it and keep looking at her.

"Ok, that's fair,” she mumbles with a pout, and you smirk at her when you remember one thing you need to forbid her.

“And no haunted house,” her eyes quickly went wide and looked at you.

“No haunted house? "You hum while nodding, but she still can't believe it.

“No haunted house for you! "You bump her nose with your pointer fingers, and she sighs in disbelief.

“But that's the best part and the only thing that makes me occupied since I’m not allowed in any rides except the carousel and ferris wheel,” she whines, but you shake your head.

"Then we were not going to the carnival.” You stand up and turn to walk away, but before you could turn around, she took your hips and made you stay.

“No, fine, fine, fine, I’ll do it,” she sighs in defeat, and you kiss her cheek.

“Thank you,” you softly whisper, and she smiles quickly, hugging you and resting her head on your stomach. You smile and comb her hair with your fingers.

“Anything for you, my love, anything,” she whispers. You smile, then look down at her.

You've never expected she'll be like this or your life will be like this, but all you know is that this is one step forward for the life you wanted for your family.

“I told you to get it easy! "You scold her and help her sit down on the bench, Wanda and Vision following behind you two, strolling the stroller, single stroller with Wanda and double stroller with Vis.

“You shouldn't push your body; Nat, Dr. Cho, give you permission, but still, your body isn't fully healed.” Wanda follows, then gives you a bottle of water, and you hand it to Natasha.

“No internal injuries nor stitches being ripped, just elevated breathing.” Natasha rolls her eyes on the two, and you glare at her, making her look down while calming her down.

She's been walking around for hours, trying rides when she gets the chance—when you're with pups, in the bathroom, or just her making excuse to go somewhere while you rest your feet—and as a result, her body was hurting, especially her wounds.

She hates to admit it, but she regrets not taking your words, and now you’re annoyed at her, and instead of you two having fun, your here scolding and glaring at her.

“I shouldn't have said yes earlier; you think I wouldn't know about you sneaking on rides.” You scold her while dumping the towel a little harsh to try off her sweat, then give her a painkiller that Dr. Cho prescribes.

Now Natasha is like a lost puppy, sitting besides you, head low, hands on her lap while she plays with her fingers and staying quiet, not wanting to add fuel to the fire she makes.

“I’m sorry, they are tempting,” she mumbles, for only you can hear, and you sigh.

“Were good here, Wands, Vis? Thank you, though. We'll have the pups later, for now you can go have fun,” you said to them with a smile, and they nodded at you.

“You sure, we wouldn't mind if we stayed here a little bit.” You shake your head and kiss the pup's forehead.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” With that, they bid their farewell, and once they are out of sight, you turn to Natasha.

“Stay here,” she nodded. You took your bag and went to the food stall to buy some food and brink for the both of you.

Once you get your order—burger, fries, two slices of pizza, and soda with a bottle of water—you get your tray with food to the table Natasha was sitting in.

“Here, eat it all.” You put her food in front of her, and you sat beside her and started eating your food.

“Eat now, Natasha, so you have strength,” you said when she's not touching her food and keeps looking at you.

“I’m sorry.” You look at her and sigh, then lean in, cupping her face and kissing her lips.

“It's ok, I understand, but I would appreciate it if you listen to me next time.” Natasha quickly peppers you with kisses, and you giggle.

“I promise,” she then lands the kiss on your lips with a smile.

“Now eat your food, so we can stroll around with the pups and get some pictures,” Natasha smiles, loving the idea of a family picture.

“I love that idea,” Natasha mumbles, and you smile, seeing the sparkle in her eyes that you've never seen before.

“So eat your food and rest your legs so we can walk around.” Natasha quickly finishes her food, too excited to take photos with her family, especially with her daughter.

“That's fast,” you comment, finishing your burger, then sliding your pizza and half fries to her.

“I’m full; I can't eat that anymore,” Natasha says, clicking her tongue five times, then looking at the food you push towards her.

“You shouldn't have ordered a lot if you can't finish your food; it's bad to waste food.” You pout at her, but she still took the food, but she sends you a knowing glare.

“I’ll eat this, but next time, get the only thing you can finish, ok? "You nodded while drinking your soda with a straw.

“I understand,” then you reach her face and kiss her lips with a smile.

Natasha sighed, then took a napkin, then started to wipe your face and mouth. You have some crumble around your lips with some sauce, then you have sweat on your forehead.

Once Natasha finished your food, you two quickly go around looking for Wanda, and you found them on the carousel. Wanda and Vis had the two boys, and Yelena has Natasha's princess. Then Kate and Peter are the ones in charge of guarding the strollers.

“This is a good spot to take a picture,” you point to the left of the carousel. Natasha quickly holds your hand and goes to Kate, knowing the ride will end soon.

“Kate, Peter, could you take us some photos over there?"Natasha asked, pointing to the camera on Peter's neck.

"Yeah, sure, Ma'am,” Natasha drags you to the spot, and she positions herself behind you.

“We will be having a family photo after their ride too.” You inform Peter, and he gives you two thumbs up.

“In count to three,” Peter informs, then Natasha quickly puts her arm around your neck, tilting her head to the left, then you hold to her arm and smile.

“1...2...” Peter counted, and Natasha smiled, putting her lips to your ear.

“I love you, my love,” she whispers to you, and your body quickly reacts, looking at her with a smile and adoration in your eyes, and that's when Peter presses the shutter, taking a complete, perfect picture.

“That's gorgeous.” Peter jumps with excitement when he sees how good and how you could feel the love in the photo he took.

Your eyes widen and you blush at the compliment Peter gives you, and when you look at him, he's showing Kate the photo, so you hide your face with your face.

“Don't be shy; you're really gorgeous, honey. One more picture, what do you say? "You look up at her and nod.

“But please, I want a decent one; just stand beside me; no more cheesy comment,” she chuckled and nodded at you.

"Ok, ok... Peter, could you do one more? "Peter smiled and nodded.

“Yes, whenever you're ready,” you wrap your arm around her left arm while she holds your other hand and leans in, smiling, then resting your head on her.

“That's sweet,” Katae awes; that's when the three with a pup come smiling.

“There they are,” you smile, taking one, then Natasha took the two boys.

“Come on, Peter, another one.” Peter quickly gets into position while the three pups are giggling, and he quickly snaps a photo once you two are ready.

“Is it good? "You ask, and he quickly opens the photo and goes to you.

"Yes, it is,” he shows you two, and you're mesmerized at the photo.

After many photos, the team decided that it's best to go home when the clock hits 7 p.m. They want the pups to rest peacefully, plus they are exhausted from all the rides, games, and walking. Of course every member has a picture memory; you all even took a photo in front of the carnival.

So here you are at the passenger seat, fast asleep while the pups are sleeping too in their carseat at the back, and Natasha is smiling, looking at the back, and to you, her hand is resting on your thigh, squeezing it.

She can't get rid of her smile no matter what; she just loves this day and is happy that the four of you are here.

[dollyfetti]

𐔌　the perks of being a wallflower - d.w ₊˚ ♡

CHAPTER ONE - the kind of thing people do

summary: you’ve always been better at observing than participating, the quiet one in the corner, taking mental notes no one asks for. and that was fine, it was enough. but for once in your life, you didn't shy away from something you wanted, and suddenly you’re swept into a series of late-night diner runs, basement mixtapes, and conversations from your best friend that make your chest ache. you started to feel things. things you never thought you would get to.

notes: dean winchester x reader, normal au (mary is still dead tho um!), dean and sam are closer in age, alcohol consumption, edible consumption, best friends to lovers, kinda slow burn (starts in beginning of high school - ends in college), reader has social anxiety, suicide attempts (not in detail), SA mentions (not in detail), mention of familial loss. please let me know if i missed any!

word count: 2.6k

˚○ ୨୧ series masterlist main masterlist navi

the kitchen smells like toast and burnt coffee, it always does. the radio plays a song you half-remember from childhood, something your aunt helen used to hum in the car when the windows were down and the weather was just right. you don’t know the words, but you mouth along anyway, just because it feels good to try.

your mom’s already gone. she leaves early now, taking the long way to work even though she swears she doesn’t. there’s a note on the fridge, her messy handwriting squeezed into the corner of a grocery list.

“have a good day. be nice to yourself. love, mom :)”

you pick at the toast you made fifteen minutes ago, now cold and curling at the edges. the butter never really melted. you eat anyway, not because you're hungry, but because it’s the kind of thing a person does before school.

you glance back at the fridge. your sister left a photo of you two at the lake last summer, she must’ve just gotten the polaroid back from her friend. she’s the one with the huge sunglasses and obnoxious peace sign. you’re half-smiling, squinting against the sun like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to enjoy the moment.

the house is always too quiet in the mornings. you used to like it when you were younger, before everything started feeling too loud inside your head. now the quiet just feels like permission to disappear, and you’re trying not to do that anymore, it worries your family.

your bag sits by the door, already packed. a half-read novel, your spiral notebook with a bent corner, a pen that only works if you scribble on the margin first.

you exhale, not taking another bite of toast before pulling on your sweater and shoes. they’re the same shoes you wore last year, and the year before that. familiar and frayed at the edges, but you kind of like that about them.

this year will be different. different. better.

your ride honks outside. it’s not a friend, it’s derek, your sister’s boyfriend. he’s got a ponytail and an acoustic guitar in his trunk and calls everyone “brother” or “dude”, even your dad. you’re still not sure if he even knows your name, but he’s nice enough to give you rides.

you grab your bag, shout a half-hearted goodbye into the house for your dad, and head out to the beat-up sedan.

your sister spent the night at derek’s house, you can tell by the light circles under her eyes as you slide into the backseat. she liked to tell your parents she was at her best friend’s house or out at a party— even high school parties are better than sleeping over at derek’s, in their opinions.

“morning little dude.” derek lazily nods toward you in the rearview.

“hi.” you murmur quietly with a polite smile, pulling on your headphones. your sister doesn’t say anything.

you watch the trees blur by through the window, tapping your fingers to the music as you raise your volume to drown out derek’s smashing pumpkins tape. the high school comes into view too quickly, all brick and concrete and weirdly wide hallways.

you hop out of the car, adjust your sweater, and square your shoulders like someone pretending they’re used to this. the first day of school. you start walking next to your sister with a thudding heart as she talks to derek past the chain-link fence, past the kids clustered around the front steps, past all the noise.

she looks to you as you’re about to step inside the building. “high school’s not hard, okay?” she starts with a knowing glance. “just be yourself.”

you smile softly as you look back at her, even though you both know her advice is absolutely horrible.

shop. you make a mental note to change this class— you're not interested in using tools to make useless knick knacks. the buzz of fluorescent lights overhead is just loud enough to irritate you, and the smell of machinery and old wood clings to the air.

you sit by yourself, like always, watching some freshmen boys snort as a senior paints a cartoony goatee onto his chin with a grease pencil.

you swallow and avert your gaze, uninterested. your attention drifts to one of the many unfamiliar faces walking inside the room observantly.

he’s tall. too tall, like he’s been stretched out past what high school allows. maybe a junior, possibly a senior. but what sticks with you isn’t his height— it’s the mop of soft brown bangs that flop over his forehead, slightly curled at the ends to give him a gentle, almost boyish look. he also just has this sweet doe-like face, which makes you smile a bit.

then he grins wide and playfully, and the air in the room shifts. he walks straight to the front and without warning, launches into a dead-on impersonation of mr. callahan, the dull room perking up. you're thankful that he makes fun of the teacher instead of the freshmen, which you've been seeing and retrieving all day.

"the prick punch is not a toy." he mimics comedically, earning a few snickers from the students as his hand goes on his hip, his shoulders a bit hunched over. "i learned that in nam back in 68. callahan, the sergeant said. put down that prick punch and go kill some gooks."

the laughs die down a bit as the teacher steps into the class from the hallway, folding his arms as he walks up behind the boy, who continues obliviously. "but you know what happened? that prick punch killed my best friend in a saigon whorehouse."

mr. callahan sighs, a book in both hands as he stares, unamused. "i heard you were going to be in my class."

the boy turns around with an awkward, sheepish expression, but there's no trace of regret.

“are you proud being a junior taking freshman shop, sammy?"

sam huffs, scratching the back of his head, not even embarrassed at being called out. he's smart, not crafty, so what? "look, my name is sam." he notes flatly. "either you call me sam or you call me nothing... sir."

"okay, nothing." mr. callahan nods without missing a beat, pointing to an empty seat with the satisfaction of a man who thinks he’s just made the joke of the year.

sam resists the urge to roll his eyes as the class laughs. he ambles over and flops into the chair, unbothered, like he planned it that way.

"nothing, why don't you read first?" mr. callahan declares, opening the safety guide book as he leans against his desk.

you still have the faintest smile on your lips. sam's little act wasn’t about mocking mr. callahan, he was just trying to make the freshmen feel better, to make them feel like maybe this place didn’t suck quite as much as it did five minutes ago.

sam opens his manual with a furrowed brow, reading aloud in mock reverence. “chapter one,” he begins, eyes scanning the page with exaggerated curiosity. “surviving your fascist shop teacher who needs to put kids down to feel big.” he pauses to look up at the class with a nod, followed by some more chuckles. “wow, this is useful, guys! we should read on.”

your smile widens.

you weren't gonna go to friday football night originally. you have little knowledge on sports, let alone football. but your family insisted, saying you should go out and try to have a good time. it's not like you really had anything better to do anyway, and maybe you'd see sam.

you wanted to talk to him! you didn't know what you'd say, but he seemed like a friendly person, so maybe he wouldn't mind. he had that kind of presence— open, warm, like you wouldn’t regret trying.

with a lukewarm soda in one hand and nachos in the other, you make your way toward the bleachers. the chatter and cheers hit you like a wave as you settle near the edge of a row, hoping no one notices how stiff and out of place you look. you try to match the other students’ energy, clapping when they clap, shouting when they shout.

"come on devils!! whooo!"

you turn your head at the familiar voice, seeing sam towering over other students as he stands a few rows up, cheering for the school's team.

two girls pass by him with synchronized giggles. “hey, nothing!”

sam rolls his eyes, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath that you can't make out over all the noise.

you want to go up to him so badly. he's intriguing, and you want this year to be different, to be better than all the horrible ones.

after driving yourself crazy, standing up and then back down twice, you shyly decide to approach him, your shoes echoing slightly on the metal.

"hey... sam." you murmur just loud enough so he can hear you over the roar of students.

his head turns with a bright smile, "hey!" he looks at you, pointing a finger like he's just recalled something before letting it drop. "you're in my shop class, right? how's your clock coming?"

you shake your head as your lips part. "my dad's building it."

"yeah, mine looks like a boat." sam chuckles with a small scoff. he looks back to the field, cheering and watching in enjoyment. you linger awkwardly, unsure what to do next. then he glances at you again. "you wanna sit over here, or are you waiting for your friends?"

"oh! no," you shake your head with a small, meek smile. "i'll sit here- if that's okay."

he nods and shifts, patting the spot beside him with an inviting grin as you sit down.

sam says, still facing forward, "thanks for not calling me nothing, by the way."

"it's an endless nightmare." he groans, shaking his head in annoyance, keeping his eyes on the game. "and these assholes actually think they're being original."

you nod nervously, your fingers wringing together in your lap. five seconds pass as your brain scrambles for conversation, something to say. literally anything.

"so, uh... you like football?" you offer gently, nodding as sam flashes you a beam.

"love it."

"oh, then maybe you know my broth-"

"hey dean." sam hums out of nowhere, his head turned to face someone beside you.

you look up from where you're sitting, your eyes almost widening as you glance at the prettiest boy you've ever seen. his dark jacket is half-zipped, hands shoved into the pockets, brows drawn together in disdain, but you swear your heart stops for a moment.

you take your gaze off him almost a second later, inhaling quickly as you look back at the crowd.

"could the bathrooms here be more disgusting?" the unknown boy grunts, sitting down next to you with no decorum, spreading his legs with a scoff.

you try to remain casual, scooting down a little as you keep your eyes fixed on the football field before you.

"well, i finally got hold of pete." he says, eyes on sam as he swipes a handful of popcorn from the bucket in his lap.

"party tonight?" sam asks along with a small, playful glare.

"nah, he's still trying to shag that waitress from the olive garden, that damn dog."

sam chuckles, shaking his head. "he's never tossing that salad."

now suddenly like he's just realized there was someone else sitting in between them, the boy looks to you curiously, giving you a once over before back at sam. "who's this?"

sam's lips part, blinking awkwardly. "uh, this is..."

you give them both your name, smiling politely. dean's eyes widen at your last name, stifling a laugh with his fist. "no shit! your sister dates ponytail derek, doesn't she?"

"is that what they call him?" you mutter, lips twitching into a reserved, lopsided grin.

"leave ponytail derek alone." sam scolds. "you put the ass in class, dean."

"i try, sam, i try." dean smirks, stealing more popcorn. he turns back to you, offering a charming smile. "hey, m dean."

you smile back, nodding your head as sam speaks up again.

"so, what's the plan, dean? you want to go to mary elizabeth's house?"

"can't. she got caught watering down her parents' brandy with iced tea. let's just go to kings." dean grunts, chewing his popcorn obnoxiously.

"hey, we're going to kings after the game if you want to come." sam bends down a little, smiling at you gently.

you nod your head for what feels like the hundredth time just as brad hays tosses a touchdown pass. the fans go crazy, especially sam, so you do too, clapping your hands loudly as you stand up.

you three headed to kings family restaurant after your team won, eating greasy diner food in a small booth with red cracked leather seats. you're sat across from sam, eyes flicking between both boys sitting side by side.

"so uh, you got a favorite band?” dean asks after shoving three curly cheese fries into his mouth.

you swallow, shaking your head with a small shrug. “well.. i... think the smiths are my favorite.”

“are you kidding?” dean grunts, freezing mid-chew, and for a second, you brace yourself for an insult or witty joke. but as he leans forward to take a sip from his soda, he grins, “i love the smiths.”

brad hays and his jock posse pass by behind you three to their table, some of them shouting “hey, nothing!” at sam, causing a huge grin to break from dean’s lips.

sam scoffs, spinning around in his seat. “let it go! jesus- it’s an antique joke. it’s over!”

“so, what’re you gonna do when you get outta this place?” dean asks you curiously, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“well, my aunt helen said i should be a writer.” you hum, looking down at the table. “but uh.. i dunno what i’d write about.”

“you can write about us.” dean hums with a small smirk, looking over beside him.

“yeah!” sam grins, turning his gaze back to you. “call it slut and the falcon..!”

ignoring the rolled eyes dean darts directly at him, sam adds, “make us solve crimes!”

"falcon? what are you, twelve?” dean grunts, munching loudly.

you smile, taking a piece of brownie into your mouth before asking, "how long have you guys been friends for?"

sam shakes his head, about to speak when dean beats him to it. "never."

you blink in confusion as sam grins, nudging dean's shoulder. "we're brothers."

you lips part a bit. of course they are, how did you not see that before?

dean leans back in the booth with his arms stretched along the top, chewing on a fry like it's a cigarette. sam hums something under his breath and drums his fingers on the edge of the table.

you’re full, but not just from the food. you’re full in a weird way, like something in your chest has opened, like the first breeze after a long, stale summer. you don’t say much more after that. you just listen, and watch, and sit between two people who don’t seem to mind that you’re quiet.

they talk about a party that might be happening saturday, and someone named craig who once shaved his eyebrows off on a dare, and they argue over whether or not rocky IV is a masterpiece or a cinematic war crime.

it’s not a big moment, it’s not even really a moment. it’s just a regular tuesday night. cheap fries, too much noise, and two people who haven’t asked you to be anything else.

꒰ 𑄽𑄺 ⠀you have a new message from dolly!

literally so thankful my bsf proofread this bc she gave me such good writing tips im im im im thank yew for reading (!!) i know this looks kinda um.. cliche but i swear im gonna lock in!!!!! 😼

[katerinaaqu]

Heyo!

I don't know how exactly to phrase this but I was wondering if you know anything about Odysseus trying/planing to kill Diomedes while they were stealing the Palladium. I have heard some people say that Odysseus did try to kill Diomedes while doing so but Diomedes noticed him so Odysseus stopped.

This feels so strange to me as Odysseus and Diomedes aren’t antagonistic in the Illiad and Diomedes is loved by Athena like Odysseus so betraying him, especially for hubris, seems like a good way to end up on Athena's bad side.

Also the translated summaries of Little Illiad I know don't mention it either but I know those translations can be missing out context. I suspect the Odysseus Betrayal is a "later adition" to the Epic Cycle but I am not that confident on that opinion.

Yes absolutely and I understand completely what you say. That is because the Palladium Heist betrayal story was peobably not part of the original epic cycle but rather a later adittion. More specifically through the work called Bibliotheca by Photius I, the ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinopole in 9th century seems to be mentioning in his work a Roman mythographer named Conon.

Conon lived and created during the times of Augustus. It seems that he is one of the oldest if not the oldest mythographer to ever mention this story. So the story quoted by Photius goes as such;

Basically after the revelation of Helen's Diomedes and Odysseus enter the city. Odysseus helps Diomedes on his shoulders so that he could climb but when he reaches out his hand Diomedes doesn't take him in and goes for the Palladium himself. When he comes back apparently Odysseus asks him on it and, according to Photius who quotes Conon, Diomedes "knows his cunning" and says that he didn't find it. That a spirit stole it and that he has another one. Odysseus realizes he is lying so he eventually draws his sword to kill Diomedes and take the Palladium to the Greeks himself. Apparently as he goes to stab Diomedes in the back, his sword casts a shadow by the moonlight or the glint of the weapon, Diomedes sees it and deflects him. He draws his own sword and threatens Odysseus with it wishing to "punish him for his cowardice" but eventually he decides otherwise (arguably knowing that the war needs him) and thus he drives him back to the camp while hitting him on his back with the flat of his sword. And according to Photius this is what gave the famous phrase to Greek language διομήδεια ανάγκη (Diomedes Need) which basically means "do something unpleasant out of necessity for the greater good"

So as you see the story does seem pretty bizarre. First it implies mutual distrust and rivalry between the homeric heroes for Diomedes doesn't take Odysseus in the temple, Odysseus asks him on the Palladium obviously with intention to steal it and Diomedes lying to him and of course the actual act. For starters Odysseus ready to kill Diomedes for the sakes of fame (while he literally saves his life in the Iliad) and not only that, be greedy and stupid enough to hold a sword to the moonlight. So it holds many contradictions to the entirety of Epic Cycle even Iliou Persis which also shows a more unpleasant side of Odysseus.

My guess is that the story is mostly linked to traditions of later years especially Roman sources and is not directly linked to the Epic Cycle. Even art of later years doesn't depict the Palladium Heist as a negative aura between the two heroes. If anything they seem to be cooperating just fine. And as I said this myth as told by Conon shows BOTH Diomedes and Odysseus as rivals and equally antagonizing and deceiving each other which doesn't usually appear to the Epic Cycle. Although of course we cannot be 100% sure given how the Epic Cycle is lost, it seems to me more like a roman legend that usually depict Greek heroes of Troy in general and Odysseus in particular, in the most negative light possible given how Odysseus is known for taking Troy, the mythical city of origin to the Romans (given how Aeneas who barely escapes with his life from Troy is the ancestor of the founders of Rome)

I hope this answers your question; to summarize it seems to me that this story of the Palladium Heist has as much connection to the Epic Cycle as Ovid has to Medusa legend; seems more like a version either created or told by Conon based on traditions of his time and the general anti-Odysseus climate.

[coco6420]

🏹alexandros-paris1

AITA (25M) for kidnapping retrieving my alreadly married, Goddess (?F) given wife (23F)?

My brother and wife keep telling me I'm wrong and that this war is wasting resources and lives, but I feel like I'm not in the wrong? I mean, it's not my fault Aphrodite didn't tell me she was already married.

Now her "rightful" husband Menelaygus or whatever his name is (yeah I'm doxxing him) is trying to claim her back. But I feel like Gods don't have to listen to contracts and stupid oaths. I think I'm in the right and Troy should try

Also Cassandra keeps telling everyone I'm dooming the city but obviously that hasn't happened. It's been 9 years, Troy isn't going to fall again.

Helen also keeps insulting me, but I feel like she should listen to Aphrodite if not me. Hector keeps telling me I should go fight Menelaygus and that I need to be "strong again like when you kidnapped Helen".

For the record I did not kidnap Helen.

I think everyone just hatese for no reason. Like I'm just taking what's mine, you know?

Anyway, I challenged Menelaygus to a duel. He hit me on the head (but I was fine) and all of a sudden Aphrodite whisked me away. I mean thank you, but there's a time you know? I was totally winning.

So AITA?!

⬆️60 💬10.2k

--------------------------------------

🪞HelenOfSPARTA 1hr

Fuck you.

⬆️6.4k 💬291

👑OfficalAgamemnonKingOfMycenae

GIVE MENELAUS' WIFE BACK.

⬆️2k 💬 173

🌻A'll-kill-u

give Briseis back?!

⬆️3.4k 💬120

🗡️Menelaus-Husband-Of-Helen

[This comment has been redacted by Mods]

👑OfficalAgamemnonKingOfMycenae

Did you make this account just for this thread? Don't use my email I only have 3.

[cherryheairt]

Request - @jason-todd-fangirl-14

my first request! tysm, I hope this is okay <33

TLB

req-Can I request some sweet fluffy with Bucky Barnes please? Maybe some injury/surgery recovery with him? Thanks! :)

Everyone is alive and well living at the Avengers tower, I had long hair Bucky in mind but imagine whatever you'd like

F!mc no desc, but being fem has nothing to do with the plot, just the pronouns

Bucky x reader

❄️

When y/n limped off of the quinjet, with Natasha's aid, she was reminded yet again by her dear friend to tell Bucky.

"You know he'll find out anyways, why prolong your own suffering?" The redhead asked, flawless as always even after their duo mission.

Y/n threw her head back, groaning. "You know how he is, Nat! He won't let me eat for weeks by myself, let alone go on any other missions."

"Maybe that's for the better." The elder snorted, earning a sharp elbow to the rib. "Watch it! I will drop you, y'know."

"No, you wont." Y/n smugly countered. "My poor injured self can't do this al-"

Natasha unceremoniously dropped her to the floor of the medbay's doorway, earning a surprised gasp from Dr. Cho and a pained yelp from Y/n.

"Nat!" she yelled. "I didn't think you would actually do it." Groaning, she rubbed her hip, sure that it would bruise.

Natasha only smirked down at her, then helped her up again. "Sorry, you know I can't resist when someone challenges me."

"Have some sympathy for a poor wounded soilder. " Y/n joked, not having any genuine hard feelings towards Natasha. Dr. Cho and Nat worked together to lift her onto a bed.

"Just a cut, I think, Helen." Y/n told the doctor with a slightly bashful look. She rarely ended up in the medbay, and when she did, it was always for some stupid and avoidable mistake. Tony lovingly liked to call her 'time-bomb' for her untimely injuries.

Bucky liked to call her reckless.

"Mm, maybe we should call Bucky in here to take care of it. Some Tender Lovin Bucky." Natasha snorted again when Y/n tried to swat at her, being dodged easily.

"Ha ha, Natasha the comedian." She said dryly.

Nat only bowed dramatically, striding towards the door again. "I'll leave you to it. I'm gonna go out with Clint to lunch. Good luck with your soilder!" She called over her soilder, jogging to the elevator.

Y/N groaned, sitting back into the bed as Helen fussed over her cut. "A bit deeper than just a cut, Y/N. Gonna need a few stiches." Helen told her, raising a brow.

"Sorry, Hel." She said sheepishly.

❄️

Less than an hour later, Y/n was hobbling herself to the elevator after being dismissed by Cho.

Praying that she didnt run into anyone on her room's floor, y/n was glad to make it all the way past the kitchens without a soul in sight. It was Saturday after all.

She entered her room with a sigh, stretching her sore muscles as the door closed behind her.

She walked to her dresser, hoping to shower the day away and take a well earned nap.

"Where have you been?" A voice startled her from her plans. Turning, she saw Bucky sitting on her loveseat, completely in silence.

"Bit scary, don't you think? How long have you been sitting in here?" She asked. Of course, he was old and used to sitting in silence, but some music wouldn't hurt.

He rolled his eyes, standing up. "Avoiding the question." He said, icy eyes zoned in on her worriedly.

"So are you,' She countered innocently.

"Doll," he chastised, sighing. "What happened?"

"Just a little scrat-"

"You got hurt? Where?" Immediately he scanned her up and down, searching for some major dislocation or third degree burn.

"Just a cut, see?" She lifted her leg slightly to the daylight coming through the window. "Already stitched up, Cho said I'd be fine to go on missions again in a few days." She assured him, hands on his wrists to stop him from turning her this way and that.

Bucky pursed his lips, sighing through his nose. "I hate you going on these missions alone," he told her.

"I'm not, I had Nat with me.' Y/n assured him again.

"It's not the same. If I went with, I'd be able to keep my eye on you instead of waiting for you here uselessly."

"You're not useless when you're waiting here." She planted dainty little kisses along his knuckles. "It makes it easier to do missions knowing you're here waiting for me. What motivation do I have to come home without you?"

"Don't say that," he said, though he melted into her touch nontheless.

"Its true." She grinned up at him.

Huffing dramatically, he layed his head on her shoulder, giving in. "Let me help you out with the shower, then you're confined to bed rest forever." Bucky said.

"Forever ever?" She laughed, leaning into his arms and the warmth of him. "A bit melodramatic for a little cut, Buck."

"Its not," he smiled back. "Perfectly reasonable."

❄️

After a much-needed shower, y/n and Bucky settled themselves down on her bed, her head on his chest while she laid on her good leg's side.

The silence was peaceful, only the sound of breathing and heartbeats in the room.

"I guess it is kinda nice," she spoke up softly, in her haze of comfort.

"hm?' Bucky mumbled, playing with a strand of her hair.

"Sitting in silence." She replied, earning a quiet chuckle from his chest.

He kissed the crown of her head softly, "get some rest. I'll take care of you."

[thequietkid-moonie]

Late night confession

[ ONE-SHOT ] [ Shirou Oogami ] [ Brand New Animal ]

× This can be read as romantic or platonic

While I was thinking on this idea I remembered that scene from The Incredibles where Bob says "I dont want to lose you!" to Helen WAAAAHHH

ANYWAAAAAYS hope you enjoyyy iiit ~

The works he has to take care of are never exactly simple, he knows that, but your presence always makes it worst. Honestly, at this point he thinks he should already be used to you messing up with his missions, you always manage to clumsily get in his way and get involved in the danger, he swears he will get older quicker just by the stress of having constantly to save you

He knows you are stronge enough to defend yourself, or at least smart enough to try to find a way to get out of the sight before anyone dangerous notice your precence, even if not, you have the survival instict to try and get out of the battlefield, but no matter how much times it pass and you always manage to get out fo the danger safetely he never stops fearing for your life

Shirou doesn't know why he is like this, why he is reckless enough to risk getting discovered just to be able to put you back in a safe spot, he repeat himself over and over again that he doesn't understand why he wouldn't do so much just to assure that you are still safe, but thats a lie, deep down he know perfectly fine the reason why he does all of this

He knows perfectly fine why he can't be mad at you for too long, even if he tries the relief of you being safe and sound always overcome her frustration and anger, or how he feels incredibly bad with himself with the look he always gives you after having to save you once more, that glare is so intense that at this point he start to fear that you think he hates you, wich couldn't be far from the truth

Like any other night, after finishing his mission succesfuly he was all alone, spending his night watching over Animacity while trying to not think on how bad he feels for calling you an idiot, he didn't had to put himself in danger to safe you, you are stronge enough after all, but he did, and he called you an idiot afterwards when he knows he is the one acting like an idiot

He wanted to apologize when you have found him and approach to talk, he stare at you, wanting to tell you how sorry he is for calling you an idiot, but instead he simply asked you what were you going there. Despite not wanting to be mean to you anymore he was still at the defensive, he doesn't want you prying on his privacy nor keep bothering him while trying to ask him what he was doing here all alone

He not only get quite reckless but also easily lose his patient when it comes to you, he tried and tried to tell you to back off and simply leave him alone while you wanted to simply chat with him, but hearing you apologize for acting so reckless was what make him lose his patient

He imediatly tell you that it wasn't necesary for you to apologize, even so his speech quickly became a scolding for your careless behaivor, at this point Shirou couldn't just stop and quickly start arguing with you about how he always has to be saving you because you are too reckless

But before he couldn't even stop himself he end up admiting something he haven't even wanted to admit to himself, confesing that he is always saving you and scolding you because he doesn't want to lose you! You manage to make your way to his heart, you have got closer to him and managed to become too important to him that now he can't imagine his life without you, he doesn't want to one day wake up and know that he has to go throught his day without you!

He was so invested on the argument that he realiced what he had said until he finished, staring at you embarrassed before looking away, but now that he have said it out loud he isn't going to deny it and even say in a more calm manner that it is true if you ask him, hopefuly with this you will understand him and stop being so careless

Shirou doesn't want to even look back at you at this point, between the embarrassment and the vulnerability he is showing right now he doesn't even know if he has the strenght to face you, and he doesn't even expect an answer or anything, he just hopes that this way he won't almost have a heart attack whenever he sees you getting involved on his missions

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[yellow-dejavu]

When I saw Dark, I definitely expected characters like Hannah and Ulrich to be hated. I wasn't surprised when I saw comments disliking them on different websites, but I just didn't expect to see people celebrating that Hannah was murdered by her own child while her younger child was sleeping in the same room.

People can enjoy any moment they want while watching a show or movie, but I just don't get it. Hannah gets an amount of hate that no other character in the show gets, and it feels like a large part of the show's viewers ignore to even trying to understand her.

jonas literally says in the first episode:

“My father said good and evil are a question of perspective.”

I'm not saying her character didn't do bad things, but it's exhausting how that's the only thing people see about her and it's just like they're trying to erase the good she did or all the positive things she meant in certain characters' lives.

I was even more shocked to see how few comments put Hannah on the same level as Helene Albers. I just don't understand how anyone could think that Hannah is somehow comparable to an abusive parent.

Hannah with her kids:

When she saw her boy struggling to cope with his dad's dead, she supported her child and made sure he got the professional help he needed.

And when Jonas came back to town, she made sure he got his medications and therapy sessions with Peter.

Hannah was so worried when Jonas tells her he had a fight at the end of the first season.

In the same scene, he just wanted to comfort his mother by saying, "Don't worry, Mom. Everything will be fine, Mom." when he actually believed that he could save Mikkel and thus end his own existence.

As the months passed since her son's disappearance, Hannah was so devastated that she almost took her own life.

She didn't, because Stranger Jonas appeared.

Stranger Jonas has returned after years of living in the apocalypse, and he doesn't know what else to do when his plan fails. The only thing he can think of is to go to his mom and tell her the truth.

After the time young Jonas spent traveling with Claudia, the first thing he does when he finally returns home is look for his mom.

It was a long time before Hannah saw her son again.

But she went to see him immediately when a random old woman told her that she knew where her son was and that he needed her.

Hannah was heartbroken when she saw what had happened to her boy. In that moment she apologized, recognized her mistakes, and told him that she was there for him.

Young Adam looked scary, but Hannah loved him anyway, and baby Silja trusted him when he said, "I want to show you a secret. But we'll let your mom rest, okay?"

Hannah died when Silja was very young and she probably didn't remember much about her mom, but she still named her firstborn Hanno after her.

and that's just to mention some of the things I could remember about Hannah's relationship with her kids.

The last dialogue of the whole show:

"I always thought "Jonas" was a good name."

Hannah was a good mom and her kids absolutely loved her. It bothers me that some people want to take that away from her because they don’t like her.

It's really hard for me to understand how some viewers can watch a show like Dark and decide that they can see all the million gray areas that all these characters had, but with one particular character they reduce everything to black and white.

[johnwickb1tsch]

you’re the worst thing (i’m addicted to)

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here...

Part 1.

“Hey, Hels.”

There is no answer, only the warbling of a bird in a distant tree. The day is bright and blue, spring has come again in all her glory. It doesn’t seem right, somehow, that the sun should still shine, and the birds should still sing.

Because she is gone.

It’s been two years, but you still haven’t really wrapped your head around it.

You still have your last text message thread with her in your phone. It’s as though you could just punch a few buttons and still talk to her. Always, she would answer you, no matter what she was doing. Sometimes you want to type in I miss you and hit send, just to see what might happen.

But then, maybe it is appropriate, that today should be such a beautiful day. On this day, forty-two years ago, your sister was born. Roughly ten years later, you followed. As a direct result, your mother died of complications in childbirth.

Your father still blamed you, but Helen never did.

In a way, Helen was your mother, more than the woman who bore you.

It makes it all hurt so much more.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

You look down at the stone, this massive granite behemoth. You find it rather ugly, to be honest, but it will certainly stand the test of time, nuclear war notwithstanding. Loving Wife, reads the epitaph below.

You know it was true.

You know that perhaps John Wick is the only person Helen loved more than you. But the inscription still seems too brief. Short changing her, somehow. 

But then, John paid for the stone, so you suppose he got to pick what it said. 

You were ensuring her memory lived on in other ways. 

“I finally did as you asked,” you tell her. “I’ve used the photos you left me in a painting. We're going to be in a show together. I wish you were here to see it.”

There is a mean part of you that suspects your submission was only accepted because it contained work from the late, great, photographer Helen Morgan-Wick, but you shove that down into the seething pit with all the rest of your fears and doubts. You didn't use them for the attention. You did it to feel close to her, and because she asked you to. One final art project, the note had said. She knew you too well, knew that the only thing that kept you from toeing the line of the abyss was a good artistic obsession.

You knew she’d planned to leave a project for John too. A puppy, she’d said. You’d shared a laugh over it, through tears, the last time you’d been together. You never found out how that had gone. John hadn’t attended a family gathering since Helen passed.

Too painful.

You didn’t blame him one bit. 

“I miss you, Hels. I feel so lost without you.”

“Amen.”

The sound of another voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You turn to find him, in one of his signature tailored black suits, looking unfairly scrumptious despite the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't made a sound in his approach. He never did. The man moved like a ghost and looked like a dark dream. You'd always found him insanely attractive.

You'd never done anything about that, of course. But goddamn, you had eyes.

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, y/n.”

You’ve never run into him at the gravesite before, though you have seen the wilted offerings of daisies left by the stone, and you always had assumed they’d come from him. You haven’t seen him since Helen’s funeral. He hasn’t changed much, really, though there is a sharpness to his aspect you’d never noticed when Helen was alive. An edge to his gaze; how can eyes so dark convey so much? Despite yourself, it sends a little thrill down your spine that you absolutely know you should not revel in.  

Maybe you haven’t seen him in person after Helen passed, but you’ve gazed at him plenty through Helen’s lens. There had been so many photographs of him in the collection of prints she’d left you. Nothing risqué, but the way he’d looked at her even through the camera had been nothing less than intimate.

There were times, late at night in your studio, when you’d pretended he’d been looking at you that way.

“How…have you been?” 

He offers a grim shadow of a smile and a shake of his head that you understand all too well. 

“Nice to be with someone you don't have to pretend with.”

“Yeah.”

You both stare down at the grave, meditating on your loss of this woman who touched you both so completely.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you ask, unable to lift your voice above a whisper.

There is a long pause from her widower, the man she left behind.

“Not really.” He lifts his face to the sun, eyes closed, as though maybe he can feel something of her presence. “But you should talk to her anyway. I might be wrong.”

You smile at that.

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“All the time,” he admits with a huff of self-deprecating laughter. “But then, I might just be losing my mind.”

“Ah well. That makes two of us then.”

You gently lay down the bouquet of Gerber daisies you'd brought for her. Helen’s favorite. If you ever have a garden, you will plant some for her. As it is, you have to buy them from the store. You remember the patch of daisies she’d cultivated in the garden of your childhood home. Their cheerful faces and soft petals. They had been your mother’s favorite too. When you were a girl Helen would sing to you and braid them in your thick hair. You couldn’t know at the time, how precious those perfect days had been.

The wave of sorrow hits you like a freight train, the weight of your loss a crushing force. You start to cry, hiding your face in your hands; you would prefer to do this alone, but you cannot stop it.

You feel an arm about your shoulders. It surprises you—John was never a touchy-feely man, never one for hugs, always preferring a wave or a handshake. Only for Helen, did he ever display any sort of affection. They had always been touching, holding hands or sitting hip to hip on the couch, his strong arm slung protectively around her shoulders. You didn’t want to say you’d been envious of that, but…perhaps you’d wondered, what it might be like, to be so cherished.

When he pulls you against him you only manage some token resistance. “I’ll mess up your suit.” You sound pitiful, even to you.

“I have an excellent dry cleaner.”

His dry wit had always amused you. This time, it breaks you, and you give in. He is solid as an oak, and as it turns out, his chest is an excellent place to cry on. Under the shelter of his chin you wring yourself dry, until it feels like you have nothing left inside you. His large hand rests lightly upon the back of your head, shielding you from the world. He is warm, and his cologne is subtle but heavenly. Sandalwood, maybe, and something spiced. Cardamom, perhaps. A hint of pepper.

You don’t particularly want to move, even though you absolutely should. Yet his hold on you has not loosened, and you tell yourself that maybe John Wick needed a hug just as badly as you did.

“People keep telling me that it gets easier, and I just want to punch them in the face,” you sniffle.

A huff of laughter escapes him. You feel it stir your hair on the top of your head. “Yeah. I get that.”

Finally you pull back, though not as far as you should. You’ve never actually been this close to him before, and you look at each other from a foot away. Sometimes proximity can shatter the illusion of someone’s attractiveness—but not this man. The impossible angle of his cheekbones, the soft scruff of his beard…is it just you, or does the edge in his gaze soften a little, when he looks at you? It makes your legs a little weak, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

It has nothing to do with you, stupid, you tell yourself. Where you and Helen weren’t exactly twins, you did resemble each other strongly. In profile, you’d been mistaken for her in public plenty of times before. If anything, it was probably unnerving for this poor man who missed his wife so much, to hold you, a sorry facsimile, in his arms. Out of pity, most likely.  

Helen had been the good sister. The upstanding one, the kind one. You? You can be such a twisted little thing.

“Sorry,” you sigh, noticing the smudge of makeup on his lapel.

He doesn’t even glance down, that intense gaze still fixed upon you. “Don’t be.”

Unbidden heat blooms from your cheeks to your toes, finding yourself the subject of that gaze. You’ve got to go, before you really embarrass yourself.

“I'll leave you alone. It was nice to see you, John.”

You turn to go, hugging yourself against the early spring chill. Why did you have to feel so bereft, without his arms around you? You take a few steps before he calls after you, “Y/n?”

You freeze in your tracks, a thrill jetting down your spine. “Yeah?” you dare, turning to half look over your shoulder.

“I…was thinking about going to Helen’s favorite restaurant tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Your heart beats double time in your chest, as you slowly turn to face him. You should say no. There’s a thousand reasons you should say no. This was your sister’s husband. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and that he’s been kind to you, and that he’s looking at you like he might drown if you say no.

“I would like that,” you answer, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears sounds like the hammering of nails into your own coffin.

Part 2

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/775096187617443840/httpswwwtumblrcompynkhues774795725379895296?source=share

All Dale experienced in season 3 was trauma, with no silver lining. Then one week later he is magically still a reporter. The whole Kay relationship dragged throughout the season while he couldn't kiss ONE man, did the rent boy even have a name? Do we just have to hope for the best and that he worked it out? Did ABC not allow it? Because that's the only logical explanation I can find, being the "80s" doesn't work when this show proved this only matters when it's convenient .

I think it was way too gratuitous. Also, no Gerry and only two episodes with Tim should have told me how this season was going to go. He never even talked about his feelings with Helen

I loved what they did to Helen and liked Noelene's arc. Just wish more thought and care was put into Dale's.

Mm, I mean, his arc was a straight line down in many respects, yes, but I don't think I'd say all he experienced was trauma at all? I think the show was pretty clear that he had a lot of love and compassion around him that he refused to allow himself access to due to his own self-loathing and internalised biphobia. Helen never wavered in her support of him, but Rob sided with him against Lindsey and tried to help him oust him, Tim was gentle with him when he really didn't have to be, and their connection to me felt maintained as a missed one as opposed to a lost one (the scene where Dale pulls Kay onto the dancefloor when everyone else leaves as Tim and Lee dance really moved me, and felt like this reminder of who he is really), Cheryl genuinely tried to help him, however briefly, and Nick, the sex worker (he did have a name!) offered him tenderness and refused to participate in his abuse of himself. Even Kay tried to help him at the end, and while I do think their relationship was underdeveloped, I also think it made sense for both of them.

The tragedy of his arc this season to me was that so much of what he was going through was self-inflicted. He's so desperate to wash out these parts of himself and be something he's not that he tries to empty himself of everything that he is, and falls apart when it doesn't work. People still think he's gay, they still think he's effeminate, fey, the one thing he's been desperately trying to hide, even more so after he was already clocked by Tim in s1, and Gerry in s2, and the fact that it's not just people with the same 'proclivities' that see it, but everyone, even when he's performing, it just breaks him.

In that sense, I think it made total sense he wasn't kissing Nick. He was trying to deny himself intimacy on every level - like you said, he wouldn't talk to Helen about any of it, couldn't really talk to his mum until that devastating scene in Helen's kitchen, could only talk to Kay about it when he was drunk, could barely talk to Tim about it either. He was paying for sex with men (a man) to make it a physical act instead of a romantic one, something to wrong that he just had to regularly get out of his system, and I think they made that really clear when Dale tried to get Nick to hit him.

I didn't think he was fine in Berlin at all either. I think Helen was giving him the chance to figure himself out on the road in the same way she got the opportunity to, and he took it. I agree that there should've been a beat between the scene with his mother and that scene of him reporting, but I get what they were aiming for. Dale wanted to be a newsreader his entire life, but briefly he was a pretty good journalist in s1 when he was on the road with Tim and the sound guy. If there's a space there for him to work and travel and live for himself in a place where people don't know him, maybe he'll figure himself out. Do we just have to hope for the best? Yeah! It's an open ending, and I think that makes sense for his character.

[pjo-tvs-version]

In honor of Annabeth Chase's birthday, I have written another fanfic. This one is based on @helpallthenamesaretakensblog 's post. It's another Annabeth POV because I just liked writing those. The title is from Taylor's Out of the Woods. Happy Reading!! :)

Your necklace hanging from my neck, the night we couldn’t quite forget

“Plans?” Hazel asked. “Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today.” I know that as a daughter of Athena I couldn't give in to the pleasure of ignorance. To escape from the harsh reality we were in. But Hazel saying the obvious out loud was definitely not helping my nerves.

Percy shook himself out of his daze. “You’re right. Annabeth…did you zero in on that spot from your bronze map?” Panic rose in me. I willed my eyes to convey this one message in bold: Remember what I said, buddy. Keep that dream to yourself. I have to answer the question nonetheless so I try to give as little information as possible. “Yes,” I say carefully. “It’s on the Tiber River. I think I can find it, but I should—” 

“Take me along,” Percy finished. What was seriously wrong with him today? I had tried to cajole him by giving so many logical reasons about why exactly he shouldn't be there. But knowing his irritating, endearing and loyal nature, he wasn't going to learn to accept this point easily. As bothersome it was, a small part of my heart was fluttering with happiness at his immense concern for me. Even though the odds of me surviving were… No Annabeth I chide myself, you will not think about this. So I decide to of course use the classic stare that overcomes any problem.

 “Yeah, you’re right.” I replied sprinkled with a deathly glare. “That’s not—” “Safe,” he supplied. “One demigod walking through Rome alone. I’ll go with you as far as the Tiber. We can use that letter of introduction, hopefully meet the river god Tiberinus. Maybe he can give you some help or advice. Then you can go on alone from there.”  Percy was making this impossible. I was finding it inevitable to leave everyone on Argo II as I went on to my death solo quest, but parting from Percy was going to be the hardest.

We had a silent staring contest, but Percy didn’t back down. Staring contests were better ways of dealing with a disagreement then words. It was far more expressive and impactful. But Percy didn't back down. As sweet as he was, his stubborn nature wasn't all that pleasing at times. He was making it hard to say goodbye. He was endangering his life once again for me when it wasn't required because the odds of me surviving were in negative. But as I stared into his eyes, there was determination. The same one I saw 3 years ago in Mt. Saint Helens. The same look on his face before I kissed him. I felt my gaze flicker.

“Fine,” I muttered, accepting defeat. “Hazel, now that we’re in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint Nico’s location?” Hazel blinked, as if coming out of a trance from watching our glare competition. “Um…hopefully, if I get close enough. I’ll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?” I could practically see Frank beaming. “Absolutely.” “And, uh…Leo,” Hazel added. “It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we’d need your help with something mechanical.” “Yeah,” Leo said, “no problem.” Frank’s smile turned into something more like Chrysaor’s mask. I was pretty good at reading people’s emotions so I could always feel the tension among those three. Ever since they’d gotten knocked into the Atlantic, they hadn’t acted quite the same. It wasn’t just the two guys competing for Hazel. It was like the three of them were locked together, acting out some kind of murder mystery, but they hadn’t yet discovered which of them was the victim. 

Piper drew her knife and set it on the rail. “Jason and I can watch the ship for now. I’ll see what Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico’s location, don’t go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It’ll take all of us to fight the giants.” I knew she wasn't stating the most obvious fact that we had no god on our side so this was kind of a one sided battle. As much I craved for victory, I couldn’t help but go through the never ending list of reasons why we were never winning this battle. Think positive Annabeth, a little optimism couldn’t hurt right?

“Good idea,” Percy said. “How about we plan to meet back here at…what?” “Three this afternoon?” Jason suggested. “That’s probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris message.” The others nodded in agreement, but I could feel their gaze fall on me. At once I felt guilty of not telling them the whole creepy truth. That I would die most probably from facing the ultimate fear of every Athena child. I would have to face Ar-. Let’s not think about it.

I would be on a different schedule. I might be back at three, or much later, or never. But I would do whatever I can to find the Athena Parthenos. Coach Hedge grunted. “That’ll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Annabeth…I don’t like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over.” Unwillingly, I felt myself flush. It was just one night of privacy in which we unfortunately just slept ( and had a few good kisses). However, the idea of getting grounded when we were about to risk their lives was so ridiculous, that I couldn’t help smiling. “We’ll be back soon,” Percy promised. I try to look at each of them and shake the dreadful feeling that this will be the last time I would see them together.

I headed down to my cabin to check and recheck my shoulder bag. Ambrosia, nectar, flashlight, matchboxes (it was something my father suggested), 2 bottles of water, a sandwich, drachmas and then came across a picture of me and Percy. It was a photo of us after we had started dating, one which Sally clicked. 

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. From the rhythm, I knew who the intruder/visitor was. “May I come in Wise Girl?” “ No you can’t” I reply, laced with sarcasm. The handle clicks open and I see Percy fidget more than usual with his hands. “I wanted to check on you” there was a pause and then, “wanted to make sure you were alright and ready for…” He didn’t complete his sentence. 

“Yeah, yeah I'm ready. I have checked, rechecked and checked again.” I replied. “You do remember to keep Ambrosia and Nectar right? And drachmas and first aid and-” “Yeah Seaweed Brain! Chill.” He was so concerned and anxious that I felt bad for him. But he needed to understand that he had to let go as there was no option B. If he went then Arch- no I would call her a Web-Weaving Wannabe. So if he went with me, she would most probably use him as bait and make my emotions go haywire and then I would make mistakes, fail to save Greece, fail to save the world-“Okay cool. So are you ready to go? The others are about to leave.” Percy says, interrupting my thoughts. “Yeah, let's go” I replied. 

“Before that I wanted to give you something.” Percy adds with a note of jitteriness. His fidgeting had increased. So of course my anxiety being directly proportional started going overboard too. He reached behind his neck, for his camp necklace. It puzzled me. Why is he taking off his camp necklace? And then it came crashing on me. 5 years ago, the duel on the beach with Ares, the good old days where their chances of dying were lesser. Percy was giving his necklace to me? As I was going to my death battle the same way Percy did 5 years ago? He was doing the same thing I did. 

A wave of euphoria washed over me. My heart felt like it could burst with happiness. He really was such a Seaweed Brain.  My cute Seaweed Brain who couldn't stand seeing anyone in trouble. He took a few steps forward and I could see the matching blush on his cheeks. He tied it around my neck and I couldn’t help but beam. “Wear this, for good luck. It saved my life when I dueled with Ares and everything after that too. I know it’ll help you too. "he said as he finished the knot. He then held my hand a little tighter than usual. I couldn't help but hug him fiercely. 

I took in his inky mess of hair, the sadness in his sea green eyes which mirrored the stormy sea, the smile that played on his lips for a moment and  then dissolved like a wave on the shore. I couldn’t help but lean for a kiss. A kiss that lingered, a desperate attempt to hold onto what was slipping away. A goodbye kiss, laced with unspoken tears. A heartbreaking kiss, a silent plea for a different ending. “I’ll make it out. You’ll be alright.” I try to reassure him. He doesn't reply but everything he wanted to say was there in his eyes.

____________________________________________

As, me and Percy climbed down the cliff, I concentrated on the challenges at hand: keeping my footing, avoiding rockslides that would alert the Empousai to their presence and of course making sure we didn’t plummet to our deaths. About halfway down the precipice, I got breathless. My legs were wobbling badly,  my ankle screaming in protest with each step.

Tartarus was sapping my non-existent strength left. ‘Stop, okay? Just a quick break.’ Percy looked beyond worried. I felt so guilty about burdening him even more. We sat together on a ledge next to a roaring fiery waterfall. The splinters were shooting, threatening to burn us, the sulphurous was becoming suffocating with each breath. My ankle was beyond pain. A wave of nausea washed over me as the cramping pain intensified.

Percy put his arm around me, and I couldn’t help but lean against him, shaking from exhaustion. A hug like a warm blanket, safe and secure. It was a comforting embrace that melted all my worries even if it was for a few seconds. I pulled away from the momentary solace to get a look at him.

He wasn’t much better. He buried his face in my chest, his dark curls cascading down his arms in a curtain of pain. He fell into this dreadful place because of me. To save me, to not leave me alone. We would find a way out of Tartarus. We had to. 

Subconsciously my fingers traced a red coral necklace, the one Percy gave me. At once I felt Percy’s camp necklace. I removed my other hand with which I was holding Percy close. As I undid the knot, Percy looked at my slightly puzzled and there pain etched on his pain even as he tried to hide it. As I started to try my necklace around his neck, he stopped me. “Keep it, you need to make it out of here.” 

“WE need to make it out of here, especially you! So let’s do one thing since we both need good luck, let me give you mine.”  I looped the necklace over his head and let it rest against his skin. 

His lips were parched and his skin felt warm against mine. The firewater was churning in my stomach. “Promise that we’ll have each other's backs. We’ll make it out.” Percy declared with determination. I couldn’t help a melancholic smile. “I pinky promise. That’s the more solemn vow there is.” I add. A short, bitter laugh escapes his lips before our lips meet. My hands were in his jet black hair and our eyelids shut tight to shield us from the awful surroundings. We will make it out of here, I try to tell myself. Even if I don’t Percy will and there is no option B.

Also on AO3 here

So that's it! Hope you all liked it. As always, positive criticism is highly appreciated. Thank you Help for the lovely head cannon. Also there is this one line in the from the movie Wonka which Willy tells Noodle. Let's see if you can find it 👀

[vixie-123]

Herman found an old photo of Val when she was part of Morningstar

Anyway, more lore:

She was in her previous relationship (mentioned in the first part) for almost 5 years before she ended him. She needed to leave town and would go place to place for 6 years (I decided to change this part for the sake of the timeline) with short-term jobs and side gigs until she got to Springfield.

For 4 years, she worked at different diners until she overheard someone asking how they would get away with murder and for fun. She joined the conversation and gave an answer and, in full detail, explained how she would clean it up. Then someone asked her how she knew all that, Val turned around and saw it was a cop.

Val told him that she was planning on cleaning up crime scenes as a future career. She got away with the bluff but ended up with the job for three years.

One day, when she had to clean up a crime scene in an apartment and took the elevator, she saw a one-armed man carrying a big bag. He saw her, but she was in a crime scene clean up suit thing. (I will make a comic strip of their interactions)

Two years forward, Val decided to walk into a gardening shop because gardening felt like a nice thing to start someday. She met a lady with blue hair and asked her for some gardening tips. They ended up starting a whole conversation until one of the lady's kids exclaimed how bored he was.

The lady was Marge and now Valerie's new friend. Marge invited Val to her group. She was fine with the other ladies but was mostly comfortable sticking with Marge. Snowball II was also very nice. She found Helen to be kind of a bitch.

As a group thing, they went to a bar for celebrating something, I guess. Helen probably made some comments, and Val (who wasn't sober enough to keep it in) gave Helen a harsh statement. They got in a fight, and she left for fresh air and Marge's sake.

Her mind was fully functional, and she was able to notice the man following her. It was the one armed man from before.

He came up and told her that there were a couple of guys following them that he didn't know, so he needed someone to be with just in case. She saw the guys behind them, believed he was telling the truth, and complied.

It soon turned into a chase. To lose them, the man lead himself and Val into an alley. They hid until they were sure the two guys were gone. While they were still in the alley, he introduced himself as Herman, and she told him her name was Valerie.

He gave her a card with his number, of course it was a business card, said his goodbye, and went off.

There was something about him that she found kinda hot in an odd way. Val went to her apartment and realized she had fallen hard for him.

She called Marge and asked if she could meet at her house to give some advice.

[mayhemchicken-varneyposting]

Aside from Varney/Charles, are there any other relationships (romantic, qpr, platonic, other) that you think have potential for expanding into something interesting?

Ohhhh this ask is pure catnip to me. Thank you for sending this in I'm going to be thinking about this so hard.

I've already talked some about the grifter4grifter potential that is Varney and Margaret Meredith, but that's a silly example and I have more serious ones.

Varney/Marmaduke. I have canon evidence of this one. I'm in the process of exploring it in Man of the House, which is stalled at the moment while I figure out where on Earth the plot of it is going, but once I do then so help me God I WILL write that tragic toxic vampire yaoi.

Henry/Varney. I think this one is almost completely one-sided; it adds something to Henry's character as a guy who is just the MOST out of his depth anyone has ever been if he also develops a crush on the vampire harassing his family. And Varney finds it incredibly entertaining; he eggs it on, fans that little flame just to see how big it can get. I've written fic about this too, it's Chapter 1 of Varney the Vampire Bites Everybody.

Whatever the hell is going on between Varney and Floyd. There's almost not enough of it to even speculate. They're cordial to one another in the vampire council scene, but then in Anderbury Floyd attempts to sucker up to Varney for money and Varney murders him. I need to know more. Were they ever friends. Do they hate each other. What is their deal.

For the lesbians out there Flora interacts with exactly one (1) female character who isn't her mother, and it's Helen Richardson from Anderbury. They become friends. I'm afraid I can't tell you more than this because literally the entire relationship happens offscreen in a sort of epilogue to the Anderbury section, and then both of them vanish from the narrative and are never seen again.

...Sorry lesbians. This book is terrible with female characters. It's fine we'll just break free of the bounds of time (linear time is already not a thing in Varney the Vampire) and introduce her to Clara Crofton, who also has no personality but we don't CARE we don't CARE we're chucking the author out a window and boarding it up behind him. They can awkwardly bond about having their lives ruined by the same disaster man while Charles nurses Ringwood back to health in the background from his latest head injury.

How did I forget about VARNEY/BEVAN mein gott. Those old men need to fuck. Or at least tenderly kiss. Varney. Take a leaf out of Clarimonde's book and SEDUCE! THAT! PRIEST!

I'm not done yet. Putting more of these under a cut since they've got big spoilers for the Varney summaries

Varney and Marchdale. Whatever they've got going on could be fascinating. (I say "could be" because in practice Marchdale is a cartoon villain and Varney is a different kind of cartoon villain, and their relationship has zero depth.) I've expanded on their whole Deal a bit in blood, sweat, and tears (god I've referenced so many of my own fics in this post. I guess that's not surprising, most of the relationships I'm interested in are ones I've written about) where I have Marchdale In It For The Immortality and Varney playing along with him because he'll wade through fire for anyone who learns about the vampirism and still treats him like a person.

On that note, Mrs. Bannerworth and the chaotic triangle of men in her life. Listen to me. Mrs. B married Marmaduke, but Marchdale courted Mrs. B when they were younger, and they were close enough that he moved into her house when Marmaduke died. Then a Goddamn Vampire arrives on the scene, menaces them for a while, and then Marchdale betrays her family for the Goddamn Vampire. To the point of attempting to kill her daughter's fiance. AND THEN. SHE LEARNS. THE GODDAMN VAMPIRE WAS FRIENDS WITH HER HUSBAND BACK IN THE DAY. they maybe fucked you can't prove they didn't. And now the Goddamn Vampire is friends with them, so really Marchdale betrayed them and died for nothing. What a goddamn STEW. Genuinely Mrs. B might have the most interesting perspective on the events of the story of any character in it, and James Misogyny Rymer makes her little more than set dressing. I'm going to raise him from the dead so I can re-kill him.

[ana-cantskywalker]

I hesitate to bring this up because there are so many people going through so so much worse right now ( I have been so burdened for people in damage from Helene, even more than I normally am for people in disasters), but I could really use some prayers from my friends.

Going to keep it short so I dont just trauma dump all over your feed, but I feel like some explanation is necessary.

Me and my sister started helping a friend with her small business in the Spring. We got more and more involved, and really saw an opportunity, but we didn't pray or seek wisdom before we jumped in head first, and its coming back around to bite us.

We had a big event last month, and it was horrible, our friend started getting ridiculously upset with us for not dedicating enough time to the business (when we had not only finished all of our projects but also some of hers) and was just generally constantly stressing us out over things. She's just generally really difficult to work with, and then refuses to ever be in the wrong even when she is. Since then we've prayed about what to do, and the Lord gave us some guidance. We knew we couldn't keep being her friend and working so close quarters with her, so we came up with a solution. We were going to start are own business that was similar but would not tap into her market at all and therefore not create competition, and still help her with hers when she needed it, but less than before so we could continue to be friends but not constantly bite each others head off.

We sat down last Wednesday and talked with her about it, and she was fine with it, said it was a good idea even. Well, over the weekend she has gone crazy (I hate to say it but idk how else to describe it) She pitched a fit over my sister not wanting her to be on the patent for a design my sister made from start to finish (she has no reason to be on it, and if we ever give someone permission to use the design for royalties it would mean she gets 50% because technically she would own half) and then today she called us and needed us to meet her with one of the things we had at the house that was sold so she could ship it, but she called 45 minutes before we would have had to leave. We were both busy and couldn't do it and she want ballistic, called us several times, ended up calling my mom multiple times and my mom ended up meeting her somewhere closer so she would leave us alone. She has taken this tiny issue that she caused by not communicating and made us to be the bad guys, told us it was 'unacceptable' and is threatening to end the friendship because my sister wouldn't call her on the drive down to the meeting she had to go to because she was riding with someone else (and its kind of rude to argue with you 'friend' on the phone while someone is driving you somewhere). She is acting like we are being horrible people for not being able to work it out the way she wanted tonight.

Looking back we can see that its always been like this, we've always had to bend over backwards for her while she won't inconvenience herself for us, but its hard to deal with now.

I feel like I am rambling a lot and probably venting too much too people online but I needed to tell someone because the whole ordeal has me really stressed out, and I know that there are people on here who will pray for me. My sister hasn't been sleeping well and I am getting ulcers and I think its because of how much she has stressed us out over the past month and a half an I am sick of it

All this to say, please keep us in your prayers, I'm not trying to gain sympathy or anything, I just really need the Lord to have his hand in this and I would appreciate prayers.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 25/45 Word count: 3369 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 23. My Team

Matilde yawned and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She looked around; was it the Spa Grand Prix if it didn't rain at least one day? The car in front of her moved, driving for five metres, making Matilde join the queue. It was the first time in three weeks she had driven her car. It was the first time in three weeks she had set a foot outside of the UK. It was the first time in three weeks she went back to a race.

"Do you think I can pass them?" Matilde asked her dad and looked at him, he sat next to her.

Living three weeks with a parent after ten years, was odd, somewhat annoying, but also trusted and fun. Matilde and her father were best friends. However, Matilde was looking forward to living by herself again. The summer break was about to start and her entire family would celebrate it in Italy, and Matilde and her father were on their way to Italy now. With just an extra stop, they would pass Spa-Francorchamps, so it wasn't even a question to visit the track during the Grand Prix. Besides, Matilde's father hadn't visited Spa-Francorchamps before, or even visited a race with Matilde as Ferrari's team principal.

"Hmm," her father hummed. "You are Ferrari's team principal."

"Yeah," she sighed.

"But it doesn't mean you can break the rules."

"I know," she agreed. "But at this point, we will get there when the race has already begun." Perhaps, she exaggerated, it was still eight o'clock in the morning, but it was busy and they weren't even close to the track. "And technically, I'm not working, so I don't know if I can follow those rules."

Matilde didn't dare to act like she was the team principal now, so she waited and stayed in the queue.

Her father was looking at his phone. "Thomas can claim tickets for speed skating in Stavanger, Helen will join as well. Do you want to come too?"

"When is it?"

"First of December."

She blew up her cheeks. "It's the week after the last race," she mumbled. "Uhm..." She blinked a couple of times, trying to think of an event she possibly had that weekend. "It's the world cup, right?"

"Ja. We can claim a ticket for you and otherwise we can sell it, or someone else will come with us," he mentioned and said to his friend that he needed to claim a ticket for himself and Matilde. "It will be a standing ticket, though."

"Perfectly fine," Matilde replied. "That will be fun. I will ask Galileo tomorrow if there's something planned, but I don't believe so." When the words left her mouth, she realised something. "Gosh, I'm dependending on my assistant." A disgusted look washed over her face. "This is something I did not want."

A laugh rolled over her dad's lips. "Times are changing."

"Awful." Matilde ran her hand through her hair. She looked in the mirror and a car that was being escorted by some policemen on motorbikes passed them. "If you need help with looking for accommodation or other things, just let me know. Happy to help."

"We will probably go to the same B&B."

"Hmm-hmm, and 'accidentally' brunch in the same hotel as the speed skaters."

They both began to laugh. Last year, also during the speed skating world cup in Stavanger, they had a quick coffee break in a hotel when driving to the ice hall and they bumped into every delegation. It was by accident, they had no idea that it was the hotel that all the speed skaters were staying in, which made things more fun. Every time they went to a speed skating world cup, something ordinary would happen to them. And they visited the world cup almost every year.

"It was a success," her father added. "We're just gonna do it again. They don't know we're there for them. We are just random tourists, we don't know anything about speed skating, everyone is happy."

A shock went through Matilde's body when someone was standing next to her; it was a police officer. He couldn't help, but laugh. Matilde awkwardly smiled and rolled down the window of her car.

"Bonjour, madame," the police agent said.

"Bonjour, hello," Matilde replied.

"Sorry to scare you, I thought you knew I was here," the man apologised. "What are we doing here?"

Matilde's face straightened, the stress flickering through her eyes. Did she do something wrong?

"When passing, I noticed the sticker." He pointed at the special F1 parking sticker on the front window. "And you are aware that you don't have to wait here with a sticker like that?"

An even more uncomfortable smile came on Matilde's face. "Oh. I didn't want to break the traffic rules by just doing something."

"I see. But as team principal you can call us and then we will escort you to the track."

"I know, but I'm not really working."

He nodded impressively, like Matilde was the first one to follow the rules. "Where do you need to go?"

"The paddock."

"Put on your blinkers and follow me." The police officer put down the visor of his helmet and drove away on his motor.

Matilde started the engine of her motor and left the queue, checking if it was safe to go. Her dad quickly put on the emergency blinkers. They passed the long queue.

"Don't be modest," her father smirked.

Matilde's cheek started to heat up. "How am I supposed to know this?" She sighed. "And we can't go casually to that hotel for a coffee between the speed skaters. They will recognise me straight away."

"Oh, my god," her father fangirled.

"Dad."

Laughter filled the car.

After ten minutes, they arrived at the parking of the paddock. Matilde parked the car and stepped out of the car, stretching her limbs. She looked at her father, who was taking in the surroundings. They weren't even in the paddock, but the impressive look on his face made Matilde smile. Matilde walked to the boot and opened it, grabbing her Ferrari jacket and purse.

"Do you want a jacket?" She asked her dad and put on the red jacket.

He was shaking his head. "I will take the cap."

She grabbed her paddock pass and put it over her head. She grabbed the second, personalised pass from her purse and handed it over to her dad. He looked at it, his eyes slightly widened and he widely smiled. They looked at each other and shared a proud moment.

They walked towards the gate. A few photographers noticed Matilde's unannounced appearance and made sure they had her on camera. Matilde's dad walked a few metres behind Matilde, taking some photos from her.

"Mati," he called her.

Matilde turned around and noticed how her dad made photos of her. She felt slightly embarrassed when she looked around and saw people looking at her, but she made sure she looked nice in the photos anyway. Then her dad wanted a photo of himself in front of the gate, and a selfie. A photographer walked up to them and proposed to take a photo of the father-daughter. Other people looked at them catching the proud father moment and they caught the moment with their camera as well. Little did they know that the moment went viral later that morning.

* * *

It was time for the pre race briefing. Everyone who needed to be at the briefing, made sure they were on time in the meeting room. The atmosphere was a mis of anticipation and focus as team members settled into their seats, each occupied with their own preparations. The room buzzed with quiet conversations.

As the designated time for the briefing approached, a collective hush fell over the room. Narciso wasn't present yet. Charles looked at the notes he had made yesterday and then looked around the room. Carlos was drinking a cup of coffee and talking to his engineers. Someone from the team made the decision to postpone the briefing by five minutes, since Narciso wasn't there yet.

Everybody was happy it was the last race before the summer break, but also excited to do one more race; Spa-Francorchamps meant a lot to some people, and others just liked the track.

And most were just happy that it was Narciso's last race.

A soft knock on the door made people look at the entrance of the door, expecting Narciso to open the door. However, Narciso wouldn't just knock, he would open the door without an excuse. The door slowly opened and a head popped around the corner.

"Good morning," Matilde smiled and looked around. It seemed like the briefing hadn't started yet, and Narciso was missing. She opened the door fully and stepped inside the room. "Hey," she said again.

Smiles appeared on many faces. "Matilde," a few happily said.

The room immediately brightened as Matilde entered. Her unexpected presence brought a wave of relief and comfort to the team members who had been silently dreading Narciso's briefings. Charles couldn't help, but offer her a warm smile. A sense of relief washed over his body when he saw her.

"We did not expect to see you here," Carlos exclaimed, his expression turning from surprise to genuine delight.

"I was in the neighbourhood," she casually replied. "And I couldn't just stay away because I miss this," she quickly added. Laughter filled the room. "Am I disturbing?" Her eyes were scanning the room.

"No, no, not at all," someone said. "Are you leading this briefing?" Even though it was a joke, hope flickered through their eyes.

Matilde shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. It's still Narciso's day," she mentioned.

"He's fashionably late," another engineer said.

"As always," someone else added.

"Probably appendicitis," Matilde jokingly said. Her eyes met Charles', and she offered a subtle nod, acknowledging the punctuality issue. He quickly raised his eyebrows slightly, sharing he understood her joke. "But," Matilde said to everyone. "Now that you have to wait, how is everything going? How are you doing?" She sat down on her chair, as head of the table. Narciso wasn't present yet, so she could sit there while he wasn't there.

The room buzzed with renewed energy, the tension that had been building prior to Matilde's arrival dissipating. Matilde listened carefully to everything that was being said. Team members shifted in their seats, suddenly more at ease. It was as if Matilde's presence alone had the power to transform the dynamics of the room.

"If we knew you were coming, we would have gotten something for you," a manager said.

"Please, it's fine," Matilde replied like it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't a big deal to her. The fact that she saw how the dynamics changed within seconds of her arrival, made her realise what was going on within the team. And they thought of her.

"But how are you doing?"

"I'm good, as good as recovered. Glad I can finally leave the UK - not that I don't like the UK, but being stuck there is something else," she said.

Charles couldn't stop looking at her while she was talking to everyone. She genuinely was interested and she made sure everyone was heard. The way she listened to everybody was just delightful. She smiled warmly, nodded every now and then, when she was thinking, her eyes slightly narrowed, she played with her hair - that was blown out again - and she just showed positivity. She felt like coming home.

Then Narciso entered the room, he was surprised to see Matilde sitting on his seat. "Matilde," he replied, perplexed. "I didn't expect you here." He placed his stuff on the desk, like it was a sign for her to move out of his way.

"Narciso," Matilde replied. "Good to see you, too," she said and got up. "I came here to say hi to my team. And there was time for it," she smiled friendly.

"We were just about to start the briefing," Narciso said, his tone indicating a mix of annoyance and impatience.

Matilde passive aggressively stepped aside, giving Narciso his space. It became difficult for her to stay professional, as she didn't like the man. The way he treated her at the office during board meetings...Perhaps he couldn't handle it that a young woman is the team principal instead of a white man in a suit; him. "I am aware," she replied, maintaining her calm demeanour.

Narciso raised an eyebrow, seemingly unamused. He sat down and prepared himself for the meeting by organising the documents and opening his laptop. "We are about to begin. Kindly excuse yourself from this meeting." He looked over his shoulder, not wanting to look at Matilde.

Her eyebrows raised, that was direct. She looked around, reading the reactions of her team; they all looked surprised, offended and disbelieving. She threw her hands up in the air. "I wasn't planning on staying. It's your domain today, after all. Your day, your Grand Prix," she responded. She noticed how a few faces dropped to disappointment. How badly she wanted to be there for everyone today, she knew she couldn't do it and Narciso was in charge. "Good luck, guys. Don't let anybody fool you." And with that being said, she left the room again.

As the meeting began, it was confirmed to everybody what the massive contrast between the two figures in charge were. Matilde's approachability and genuine interest in her team stood in stark contrast to Narciso's more authoritative and sometimes abrasive style. And the team seemed to respond differently to the two leaders.

While every team was in a briefing, Matilde walked through the paddock to find her dad, who was just strolling around in the calmth. The guests would show up later, the teams from F3 and F2 were preparing for their races. And of course, reporters were eager to get a glimpse of Matilde or wanted to get a quote from her. However, Matilde told them kindly she was not here for photographs or any interviews. She found her dad and they walked back to the Ferrari facility for some coffee.

"And? How did they react?"

A smile covered Matilde's face. "Surprised, but happy, I think," she responded. "It was good to see them. I missed it."

"That is good to hear," he reacted surprised. "Never thought you would say it, though, after everything that has happened."

"Well, we're in a different situation now. I'm not the annoying team principal, I'm me. Chances are so big that things are changing in a couple of weeks again," she observed.

The morning slowly passed and the news of Matilde being present spread fast. Multiple team principles came by to say hello and Matilde went to visit some people. She went to Mercedes, to thank Toto for his help. She went to Red Bull to quickly say hi to Christian and Max. Kevin was ahead of her to say hi, as he had seen the photos on social media already. And she just enjoyed being around the track again, enjoyed this event with her dad and stayed in the shadows so the attention wouldn't differ from the drivers and the teams.

When the race was about to start, Matilde and her dad took a seat in the back of the garage. Matilde was aware this was probably the only time she and her dad could watch the race together at the track - unless things change, but Matilde was almost completely sure things wouldn't change.

To many surprises, Ferrari recovered from the bad weekend. After the start, they climbed to the top three. For a moment, it was undecided who would win as Max, Charles and Carlos were in a tight fight for first place. The dynamics within the teams drastically changed and people picked it up.

Matilde liked to watch the race from the back of the garage as she could oversee each and everyone. She observed her people. The way the mechanics smoothly moved during the pitstops, how everyone was communicating clearly. Things were different before. However, Narciso didn't like how it was going; his body language showed he was not amused. The team was the leader themselves instead of Narciso managing them. And she sensed some stubbornness during some discussions over the radio; different from the stubbornness Matilde knew from them.

The team was in a good spirit and once again, they were doing things without Narciso's consent. It was an unspoken statement from the team towards the board; they were running the team like Matilde taught them and how she would lead the team. And her presence at the back of the garage made a huge difference; they were racing for her, to make her proud and satisfied.

And fans were excited as well, since there was a fight going on. Not only in the front, but also in the back. The Orange Army liked the fire that was thrown on the track and its battles, the Tifosi found themselves hungry for a win and other fanbases just enjoyed the excitement.

Max unleashed a masterclass in precision and determination. His car danced through the famous Eau Rouge and Raidillon with an elegance that belied the sheer power beneath.

Charles painted his own masterpiece on the asphalt canvas. The Ferrari Roared through the challenging corners of Spa, guided by Leclerc's deft hands.

Carlos proved his mettle on the legendary track. His racecraft was a symphony of calculated aggression and skillful navigation.

The battle for the win raged on, each turn and straight adding a new chapter to the sage. Max' Red Bull soared across the finish line first, claiming the victory. Charles claimed the fastest lap by finishing a few seconds behind Max. Carlos completed the trio, securing a double podium for Ferrari.

Even though Matilde wasn't particularly waiting to celebrate the double podium around the podium, her mechanics went to the back of the garage to personally pick her and her dad up. Together, they walked to the podium. It was busy.

"It's good to see you back," Abele said to Matilde, he was the mechanic who stood up for her during the night shift after Miami and the disaster.

A smile came on Matilde's face. "Thanks, it's good to be back, to see all of you again. Well done today!"

He smiled and introduced himself to Matilde's father before returning back to the conversation with Matilde. "What does your summer break look like?"

"With my family in Italy. It doesn't feel right that I have summer break, though. I just did barely anything for three weeks straight."

"Very nice. I'm going to Portugal with my girlfriend. Finally some time off," he said. "And you shouldn't feel guilty about the summer break. You recovered, you couldn't prevent it, so you need to rest without the stress of us."

"I know, but it feels off," she breathed.

"We missed you during the night shifts, though."

"Two weeks. Then I'm there to annoy you again," she said. He smirked. "Enjoy your holiday, you deserve it."

They watched how the top three cars arrived under the podium. Yet again, Matilde didn't want to steal away the attention from Narciso. It was his double podium, he sat on that chair and led the team through the entire weekend. Besides, Matilde felt uncomfortable enough to stand between her team while she wasn't working. She looked to her left where Red Bull was celebrating their victory. Then she looked in front of her where Carlos was meeting his team. And finally, she looked at her right where Charles was meeting with his team.

"Incredible to see this in real life," Matilde's dad said to Matilde. "On TV you only see the emotions, now you witness it." There was a smile resting on his face, a precious smile.

Matilde looked at him and smiled as well. "I know, right." Her eyes met Charles' eyes; she clapped proudly, smiled widely and winked. Charles' smile was bright and grateful. Then she looked at Carlos; he didn't see her, but she was also proud of him.

It had been a while since she felt this kind of happiness, euphory. She hoped this spirit would stay, but she was aware things could change easily.

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u