#especially if they read the odyssey

[thestellargoblin]

i swear to god, if i see one more "poor calypso, she deserved better, such a tragic unrequited love story 🥺🥺🥺" post/tiktok/content/literally anything online, something is getting brutally stabbed

[itsajollyjester]

I've had a few people say I should try and read every translation of the Odyssey

I regret to inform you that I tried that and it ended in me reading none of them

[unsweetenedsugar]

As much as I like the musical, I still found it a lost potential by making Odysseus a good person at the beginning of the story. This is Odysseus AFTER the Trojan war, already cunning, sacker of cities, complicated. A man brought nothing but war and destruction back to a home that had changed so much when he was gone.

A tale of innocent-at-heart boy growing into manhood and potentially a ‘monster’ would be much more fitting with Telemachus as a protagonist.

Imagine Telemachus who had listened to all those heroic stories about his father and looked up to the father he didn’t even remember only to have the man and a goddess tell him ‘ruthless is mercy upon ourselves’.

Imagine the moral struggles when Telemachus was asked to kill the maids/slaves by his father’s order. He might have grown up together with some of the girls. But it’s words from his father, a hero, and a goddess, so is this what it takes to be a man?

[ninadove]

I'm honestly shocked that since Emotion/Representation aired I've yet to see anyone do anything at all with Felix and Mary Shelley's Frankenstein??? I think about it every day it's literally THE Felix piece of media. It's his entire character thesis. What are we doing guys

I KNOW I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT THE OTHER DAY

To be fair I have seen a few people headcanoning it as one of Felix’s favourite books (Which yes. Absolutely. 1,000,000%) but there hasn’t been any fics/art/edits/etc. about it yet to my knowledge. My copy is at my parents’ and in French but I am tempted to find an English PDF since it’s been public domain for a good while now. The web weave potential is insane.

I have many thoughts about Felix and literature in general… I have him quote Cyrano de Bergerac all the time in my fics, for example. I was thinking of starting a list of works of art and literature he’d enjoy, so I’ll take this as a sign to get writing! I can get my fandom friends to make some suggestions as well! 📝

Edit: @bittersweetresilience got us covered, our honour is safe 💜🦚

[shittywriterbrain]

I JUST REALISED THIS IS ABOUT HOW THE SKY AND THE SEA WERE DESCRIBED IN ANCIENT GREEK TEXTS LIKE AT LEAST HOMER DESCRIBED THE SEA AS WINE-COLORED AND SHIT I FUCKING LOVE THE FOUR WINDS

[kara-zor-els]

I finished justice league odyssey and my takeaway from this book is that everyone wanted Jessica Cruz carnally (honestly, same)

[shieldwife]

the song of achilles and its consequences 

[gophergal]

There's really something to be said about the transition in science fiction from "man's creations are only a danger if treated poorly" to "anything man creates is an act of hubris that will be their undoing"

I don't have the brain rn to explain it though

[bichazz]

ok it is almost 2am and i do technically have. important stuff to do in the morning i should Stop.

i'll get through another volume or two worth w my stupid ass game in the future (most likely before the end of the week lmao) so apologies for the dumb posting i will do then too x

[poorlittlevampirebaby]

okay i'm gonna have to do a real analysis but both episode 3 and episode 6 starting with flashbacks instead of daniel but showing very clear character insight and development for daniel

🧍

[greekmythcomix]

How I teach the Iliad in highschool:

I’ve taught the Iliad for over a decade, I’m literally a teacher, and I can even spell ‘Iliad’, and yet my first instinct when reading someone’s opinions about it is not to drop a comment explaining what it is, who ‘wrote’ it, and what that person’s intention truly was.

Agh. <the state of Twitter>

The first thing I do when I am teaching the Iliad is talk about what we know, what we think we know, and what we don’t know about Homer:

We know -

- 0

We think we know -

- the name Homer is a person, possibly male, possibly blind, possibly from Ionia, c.8th/9th C BCE.

- composed the Iliad and Odyssey and Hymns

We don’t know -

- if ‘Homer’ was a real person or a word meaning singer/teller of these stories

- which poem came first

- whether the more historical-sounding events of these stories actually happened, though there is evidence for a similar, much shorter, siege at Troy.

And then I get out a timeline, with suggested dates for the ‘Trojan war’ and Iliad and Odyssey’s estimated composition date and point out the 500ish years between those dates. And then I ask my class to name an event that happened 500 years ago.

They normally can’t or they say ‘Camelot’, because my students are 13-15yo and I’ve sprung this on them. Then I point out the Spanish Armada and Qu. Elizabeth I and Shakespeare were around then. And then I ask how they know about these things, and we talk about historical record.

And how if you don’t have historical record to know the past, you’re relying on shared memory, and how that’s communicated through oral tradition, and how oral tradition can serve a second purpose of entertainment, and how entertainment needs exciting characteristics.

And we list the features of the epic poems of the Iliad and Odyssey: gods, monsters, heroes, massive wars, duels to the death, detailed descriptions of what armour everyone is wearing as they put it on. (Kind of like a Marvel movie in fact.)

And then we look at how long the poems are and think about how they might have been communicated: over several days, when people would have had time to listen, so at a long festival perhaps, when they’re not working. As a diversion.

And then I tell them my old and possibly a bit tortured simile of ‘The Pearl of Myth’:

(Here’s a video of The Pearl of Myth with me talking it through in a calming voice: https://youtu.be/YEqFIibMEyo?sub_confirmation=1

And after all that, I hand a student at the front a secret sentence written on a piece of paper, and ask them to whisper it to the person next to them, and for that person to whisper it to the next, and so on. You’ve all played that game.

And of course the sentence is always rather different at the end than it was at the start, especially if it had Proper nouns in it (which tend to come out mangled). And someone’s often purposely changed it, ‘to be funny’.

And we talk about how this is a very loose metaphor for how stories and memory can change over time, and even historical record if it’s not copied correctly (I used to sidebar them about how and why Boudicca used to be known as ‘Boadicea’ but they just know the former now, because Horrible Histories exists and is awesome)

And after all that, I remind them that what we’re about to read has been translated from Ancient Greek, which was not exactly the language it was first written down in, and now we’re reading it in English.

And that’s how my teenaged students know NOT TO TAKE THE ILIAD AS FACT.

(And then we read the Iliad)

[khaire-traveler]

🛡️ Subtle Athena Worship 🗡️

Engage in arts and crafts, especially crocheting, weaving, and pottery

Read books you enjoy; try reading The Odyssey

Keep a picture of her in your wallet

Have a candle that reminds you of her (no altar needed)

Wear jewelry that reminds you of her

Have imagery of spears and shields around

Have a snake or owl stuffed animal

Invest in your schooling; studying, doing homework, working hard

Participate in voting, if you can

Try to think outside the box for solutions to problems

Take care of yourself physically, especially with movement or exercise

Dancing to music, especially music that empowers you

Write stories of your own

Learning self-defense, weapons included or not

Bird-watching and star-gazing

Support humanitarian efforts abroad or locally

Drink calming or meditative tea

Meditate out in the sun or under the full moon

Go outside of your comfort zone; try new things that will ultimately be good for you

Play D&D (yes, really)

Take good care of your body; drink lots of water, eat three meals a day, try to eat well, etc.

Practice restraint and patience, especially with people who annoy the shit out of you

Practice standing up for yourself

Assert your boundaries clearly; learn what your boundaries are

Play with your dog or cat, if you have one, especially activities that get you moving, too

Wear clothes that make you feel confident and comfortable

Prioritize your well-being

Cook with olive oil, if able

Make a list of your personal goals; achieve them one step at a time

Celebrate your accomplishments; acknowledge your strengths

Sharpen your mind; play memory or mentally stimulating games

Take regular breaks from screens; be sure to go outside throughout the day for some fresh air

Spend time with loved ones

Drink soothing beverages; herbal teas, hot chocolate, whatever else there is, etc.

Make a list of your passions and actively pursue them

Learn more about yourself; try new hobbies, express yourself in new ways, pay attention to what brings you joy, etc.

Write down quotes you hear and enjoy

-

May add more later on! For now, this is my list of discreet ways to worship Athena. Hope this is helpful, and take care, y'all! 🩵

Link to Subtle Worship Master list

[butcherlarry]

you’re doing important work with your recs and i admire you greatly 🫡 i will ask tho if you have any good superbat recs that feature pining (can be mutual or not), angst, enemies to friends to lovers, past relationships, or slow burn?

Let's see what I can dig up for you anon :)

slow dancing in the dark by scarletazure - for your pining request, this was the first fic that came to mind for me. Also a bit a of a slow burn too! Bruce and Clark get temporary amnesia, bone, get their memories back, and then deal with FEELINGS. I remember reading an update to this fic after a 11+ hour car drive home. It was a balm to my SOUL.

Rumor Has It by rotasha - Friends to lovers and pining! Bruce comes out as bi and Clark has to deal with this, especially since he's been pining for Bruce for a while

how to perform an exorcism (five easy steps!) by soetry - Clark confesses his love to Bruce. This obviously means that Clark is possessed.

find someone who will stand between your legs by amosanguis - Pining and a bit of slow burn. Also idiots in love, which I consider a subsect of friends to lovers. Ten incidents where Clark had to stand in between Bruce's legs

over this threshold by orphean - Bruce and Clark get married for tax reasons. Shenanigans ensue :)

The Odyssey of Bryce Wayne series by Tatsumaki_sama - This has a bit of everything, pining, friends to lovers, past relationships, getting back together, slow (ish) burn. With the added bonus of a gender bent Bruce!

push the sky away by bleakmidwinter - Pining and a bit of slow burn, friends to lovers. Batman and Superman come to an agreement to cuddle a certain times to get over some touch starvation :) :) :)

Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang by ShowMeAHero - Pining, slow burn, and not quite enemies to lovers, but more of a grumpy black cat learns to befriend a cheerful golden retriever. No capes AU, Bruce and Clark are university professors.

The Xenomorality Hypothesis, Revisited by MaskoftheRay - Enemies to lovers, a bit of a slow burn too. A canon divergency of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice.

Love, Conquering by MaskoftheRay - A Krypton survives AU, but Krypton conquers Earth! Some enemies to friends to lovers and bit of a slow burn.

a song came after by susiecarter - The aftermath of Bruce being trapped in a machine where he had a relationship with Clark. So much pining! Especially on Bruce's end!

the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish - Slow burn! With a side of identity porn and misunderstandings! Bruce's kids thinks he needs to start dating, so they set him up on a date with a hot reporter named Clark without his knowledge. Despite this, Bruce and Clark decide to give this dating thing a shot. Shenanigans (and feelings) ensue.

Happy reading!

[manager-dante]

i need to flesh this out once i’ve mulled it over more but i adore how limbus company expands on the incredible world-building of project moon, because it is so goddamn realistic.

from the outset the player is presented with this incredibly bleak world in which corporations have become the state. the poor and the desperate bow their heads and toil at the altar of the free market. worth is measured by talent in exploitation. it’s a social darwinist’s wet dream. i also think the choice to base the cast off of literary figures was amazing, because it highlights very important connections to the past. i haven’t read all the books referenced, but the ones i have (the metamorphosis, don quixote de la mancha, & the odyssey so far) draw an unmistakable through-line from the suffering and exploitation depicted in those books to that which occurs in the city. the most horrifying parts of this game in my opinion aren’t the monsters or the machines — it’s the sheer enormity of human suffering which exists in the economic and political system the city operates under. and that’s the worst part, because in so many ways, the suffering and exploitation portrayed in the city is not a hypothetical fantasy — this is just capitalism working as intended. it’s not confined to the historical context of those books, nor the gritty sci-fi horror of the game.

but not only do we have this incredible setting that’s somehow both brutally realistic and fantastical at the same time, we also get to see how our main cast attempts to survive in that world — and ultimately how none of their attempts to change it succeeded at all.

in my mind, canto i portrays how neither kindness nor cold-heartedness will help you survive — especially through the dynamic between aya and hopkins. gregor has been both. he was a war hero in a meaningless war. after it ended, he was discarded as any tool which had outlived its usefulness would be. he can’t even control his arm from becoming a killing machine. and yet, gregor is still exceptionally personable, even going out of his way to be kind at times. but no matter whether he’s a tool for violence in the hands of war profiteers or simply a man doing his best to protect others, he still couldn’t save yuri — just as he couldn’t save his comrades — and this clearly haunts him. neither the war nor its end changed anything.

canto ii shows between rodya and sonya how both direct action and an “inevitable” revolution fail to quell the suffering of the vulnerable. sonya’s revolution is all bluster and no action. he does nothing to help the people in his community in favor of this grandiose revolution that must happen at the “right moment” — even if it means leaving his neighbors to starve in the meantime. rodya’s inspired yet short-sighted action to remove what she saw as the source of her community’s suffering only led to its destruction: the tax collector was a branch, not the root, of the problem, and killing one person did nothing to stop the system which upheld them.

canto iii is even more clear-cut in the ties between sinclair and kromer: neither violent zealotry nor blissful ignorance will save you in the city. kromer’s cult does not “purify” anything, but sinclair’s courage to stand up to her isn’t enough to beat her either. canto iii still doesn’t end in a victory. dante and the sinners barely survive. it’s only through demian (and k-corp’s) divine intervention that the sinners and kromer don’t destroy each other in the corpse pit.

in the most recent addition, canto iv appears to do the same thing. on one hand, you have the devotion to a principle shown through shrenne, samjo, and donbaek. their causes are different, but their devotion is the same. on the other, there is the cynicism, indifference, and escapism of yi sang and dongrang, both willingly complicit in the machine in different ways. and yet — none of them make any positive difference. whether they resisted or submitted, the machine grinds on around them — the only choices are to become a cog in it or be ground to bits by its gears.

to be clear, i do not think the game is arguing that none of these individual actions matter. even if gregor couldn’t rescue yuri, even if rodya couldn’t protect her neighbors, even if sinclair couldn’t defeat kromer and all that she stood for, even if the league of nine members each failed to realize their ideals — limbus argues that it matters they tried. it matters that they’re still trying. it may never be possible to oust the corporate overlords and make the city a better place, but the love still matters.

[saturnville]

wear the gold, joe rantz

pairing: joe rantz (the boys in the boat) x black fem oc (cleotha jean)

content: joe wins the gold and promises that cleotha will get to wear it.

an: one thing I love is writing period fics, making my own world, and putting black women as the lead. mwah.

Cleotha Jean was an intelligent woman. She began reading at the age of three, writing short stories by seven, and conducted a college-level research presentation at the age of 13. Education was her one-way ticket to success and transformation of her family trajectory. She worked hard in school and made it a priority. Her efforts paid off, as she was granted a full scholarship to a nearby all-girls college for Black women. She was one step closer to becoming the award-winning historian and geographer she desired to be. 

Her desire for greatness never ceased, even on a college campus, where having fun and doing “college student things” was welcomed, especially with the neighboring all-boys college. Cleotha had no desire to partake in the weekend drunkenness or hookups. She found joy in researching Greek mythology and listening to the her boyfriend’s rowing match on the small radio at her desk. 

Cleotha Jean was dedicated to her studies, yes, but she made sure to make time for other aspects of her life to flourish. Including her love life. During her first year of college, she found herself becoming the apple of Joe Rantz’s baby blue eyes.

They crossed paths at the lake that the schools in the city often visited on the weekends. While sitting on her beach towel with her best friend, a soccer ball came flying across the air, but a strong pair of hands caught it just before it hit her. 

Cleotha squealed as her hands came up to block her face. Her book flew from her lap, the page lost in its spiral in the air. She grunted in irritation. Her fingers pushed her sunglasses on her forehead, her eyes scanning the vicinity for the culprit. 

“I’m sorry, miss. Are you okay?” asked a voice that was unfamiliar. It caused her ears to perk up in interest. She turned to the right to see a very handsome man crouched in front of her, soccer ball tucked beneath his arm. Her eyes scanned his face: dark eyebrows, ocean-blue eyes, straight nose, and full lips. His hair was platinum blonde and tussled from a day’s activities. 

“I’m fine, thank you. Nice save,” she managed to joke with a chuckle. The boy laughed lightly and shrugged. “I try my best. Your book.” He handed her the book that landed at her feet, his thumb between the pages. 

“Thank you.” 

“Reading the Odyssey for fun, huh?” he questioned. Cleotha glanced at her book, sandfilled and battered. It had been her favorite book since she’d read it during her freshman year of high school. She nodded and smiled. “Consider me a mythology enthusiast.” 

He nodded in interest. “Interesting. You’ve got to teach me a thing or two. I only know about Hercules.” That drew a giggle from her. He smiled softly. “Sure. I’m Cleotha.” She stuck her hand out, which was light as a feather in his calloused one. 

“Joe. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Cleotha smiled again. From her peripheral, she noticed his friends eyeing their interaction. She pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. She peeled her book open again. “Looks like your friends are looking for you.” Joe turned back. 

“I’m kinda intrigued about this Odyssey you’ve got going on. You gonna be here for a while?” 

Cleotha nodded. 

Joe stood to his feet and dusted off his swim trunks. Cleotha’s eyes fell to his define figure before ascending to his eyes. “Gonna finish this game, then I’m coming back for you, sweetheart!” 

Cleotha smiled softly at the memory. Her notetaking was interrupted by the sudden commotion over the line. 

“And if I could say something to my girl Cleo back home if you’re listening…” Her ears perked up at the voice. “I’ll let you wear the gold medal when I get back.” 

She dropped her pen against her book and squealed. “Oh my goodness! He did it!” She scrambled around her room in excitement. All the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears had finally paid off. She couldn't have been more proud.

-

A few days later, Cleotha was preparing to go to bed when a knock on the door interrupted the soft melody playing in her room, causing her heart to skip a beat. She paused, a smile tugging at her lips as she recognized the familiar rhythm of Joe's knock. With eager anticipation, she hurried to the door and swung it open, revealing Joe standing there with a tender smile lighting up his face.

"Cleo," he breathed, his voice soft and filled with affection as he took in the sight of her.

"Hi, doll," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes shining with love as she reached out to take his hand, pulling him gently into her room.

Joe kicked his beaten sneakers off his feet and placed them next to the door. He slid his full backpack off his shoulders and tossed it in the corner. She assumed he wanted to stay with her. Cleotha couldn't help but admire the way Joe filled the space with his presence, his warmth wrapping around her like a familiar embrace. She closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the room as they stood face to face, the air buzzing with the electricity of their shared connection.

“Ooh, baby, I am so proud of you!” Cleotha squealed, jumping up and down. She flung herself in his arms, pulling a hearty chuckle from Joe’s lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tight. “Congratulations. I heard the race on the radio. It was a well-deserved win.”

“Oh,” Joe said, pulling away from her just slightly. He dug his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, saying, "Surprise.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he revealed a small box nestled in the palm of his hand.

Cleotha's breath caught in her throat as she watched him with bated breath, her heart racing with anticipation. With trembling hands, she reached out to take the box from him, her fingers brushing against his in a tender caress. “Is this what I think it is?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Open it and find out," Joe replied, his voice filled with a hint of excitement as he watched her with eager anticipation.

With trembling fingers, Cleotha carefully untied lifted the lid of the box, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of the delicate medal nestled inside. It was a simple in design, but it was beautiful. Heavy and rich. A physical manifestation of the blood, sweat, and tears he’d put in to get to this point. The gold medal.

"Oh, my goodness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she lifted the medal from the box, her eyes brimming with tears. "It's beautiful. I am so proud of you, really. This is amazing.”

Joe smiled softly, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached out to take the medal from her hands, his fingers brushing against her skin in a gentle caress as he adjusted it around her neck. “Wait, Joe…” He hummed in response, saying, “I told you I’d let you wear it, didn’t I?” She clamped her lips to limit any further protest. Cleotha’s fingers danced over it in wonder as her eyes gleamed with awe. Her boyfriend was a gold medalist. 

She met his eyes, which were low as he took in the picture of her dressed in his shirt and shorts with his prized possession around her neck. He smirked. A sight to behold.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice filled with love and gratitude as he moved to place a gentle kiss on her lips. "I couldn't have done it without you. Love you forever…”

Cleotha smiled, a warmth spreading across her face as she brushed a stray lock of hair from hisface, his touch as gentle as a whisper. "I love you, too.”

[stxrvel]

hate is a strong word pt. 2

summary: it took you three fundamental moments to find out what your feelings were about and that maybe you didn't want to have them.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +3k

warnings: bad words, bucky's kinda flirting, reader is constantly flustered, the avengers are imprudent, still not a healthy relationship, angst at the very end because reader finds her feelings very confusing, pls don't come at her.

note: hi guys! i finally decided to publish this second part and the third one is going to be the last one. i only have like 10% of it but it's on the works. thanks to all of you who read and enjoy my works! hope you like this one too <;33

part 1 ; part 3

Bucky picked up a strange habit after that mission where you found out he didn't really hate you.

At times, when he had a mischievous gleam in his eye, Bucky would call you “doll”.

It was a nightmare.

Maybe the worst thing that could have happened to you was having that conversation with Bucky because now it seemed like he didn't want to let you have a single moment of peace. And he was enjoying it, that bastard was rejoicing in your shame. The first time he did it you wanted the earth to swallow you up, with several wall of eyes on you. You knew those glowing eyes meant danger and yet you walked around them.

Arriving from that mission was an odyssey because you were suddenly uncomfortable around him. It wasn't so much like that when you were alone with him, most of the time, but it was always so weird when there was someone else from the team around.

You two arrived at the Complex two days later. Everything was going well until you started down the ramp of the Quinjet and faces began to appear in the distance. You suddenly felt acutely aware of the closeness of Bucky's body to yours and, not at all disguised, you moved to the other side as you continued down. Bucky barely gave you a sidelong glance with that unabashed grin.

You both stopped when you got in front of the others and even though you were sure they had questions to ask you, an awkward silence surrounded you.

Everyone was looking every which way, especially between you and Bucky, as if they could sense that something had happened. It made your insides churn just remembering it.

But finally it was Sam Wilson who put an end to the silence, sentencing you to eternal sorrow.

“Did you two hook up or something?”

Bucky didn't say anything, other than try to swallow a laugh and all you could do was break their line, stepping in between Sam and Tony and brushing their shoulders hard. No one said anything until you could no longer hear them.

Bucky later told you that he had cleared things up, but that didn't put your mind at ease.

But, well, anyway, back to the main topic. Bucky made it his new sport to call you doll in random situations to get on your nerves. Sometimes he would do it when you two were alone, and well, that didn't upset you that much. But other times, the bastard would do it when he knew there were people who could hear him just to enjoy your upset and confused expression. God, you hated him so much.

And you'd like to think that with the time that had passed you had gotten used to it, but the truth is, it was impossible to get used to it. That Bucky started calling you by that nickname seemed to have flipped some switch, because you couldn't help but think that things around him had changed. Suddenly you were starting to feel like it was too much to be around him, too intense, too annoying, too hot-

Argh. Whatever.

You were having lunch with Natasha on the cafeteria balcony, trying to dispel from your head all the times during that day Bucky had used that… awkward nickname with you. You stabbed at the pasta shells with your fork with a blank stare and a scowl.

“So, it's been a month, has it?” Natasha spoke, her back erect with the spoon full of stew halfway to her mouth.

You shook your head slightly to turn to look at her. “A month of what?”

“Since you got back from the mission. You and…”

Natasha shook her head pointing inside the cafeteria and yes, there was the owner of your nightmares.

“Oh yeah, what about it?”

“You never told me what happened.”

“Because there's nothing to tell, Romanoff, don't-”

“Did you two fuck?”

Your mouth opened wide. You couldn't believe what the woman in front of you had just asked.

“Natasha…” you frowned at her, your voice coming out with reprimanding ink.

“What? Talking about sex is normal these days.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced, shaking your head. “I can't believe it. You better shut up, let me at least enjoy lunch. It's the only time of the day where I can be left alone.”

You heard the spy's deep breathing, but she finally dropped the subject for the sake of peace.

You took a calming breath and tried to enjoy your meal.

“What's up, girls?” someone appeared out of nowhere and sat down in the middle of Natasha and you.

“Hey, Clint,” you replied listlessly, hoping he'd entertain himself talking to Natasha and they'd completely forget you were there.

It was surprising, but those last few days you had spent more time with Clint than with any other member of the team. He seemed to be the only person who didn't really care about whatever it was that had happened between you and Bucky, which was really nothing. So, usually, if you had free time, you preferred to spend it around him.

It wasn't that the others were all the time bugging you and making comments about it, like Natasha did today, but by trying to keep things “the way they were” the environments became very uncomfortable. It was like everyone had convinced themselves that they had to ignore something that wasn't there. Everything was more tense for no apparent reason.

“How was the mission?” you heard Natasha say as you watched the green field in the distance.

“Luckily, very easy. I gathered the intel and saved the hostages. That girl's a lunatic, isn't she?”

“You betcha. And that we haven't directly encountered her, except for Y/N.”

You shook your head in assent when you heard your name.

“It must have been awful.”

It was on the next mission you had after the mission with Bucky, just two days later. It was supposed to be a recon mission, because the data showed she wasn't there anymore, but you ran into her in the middle of an attack. People called her Dark Lightning, some would say it was because of her hair and her shiny suit, but the truth was literal: the woman could summon very powerful dark rays.

You didn't quite understand where she came from because your specialty was HYDRA remnants, but Fury asked you for the favor and, well, you also wanted to get out of the Complex, even if it was only for a few hours.

So as anything could go wrong, in the middle of the mission Dark Lightning showed up and gave a good beating to the whole team, including you. You spent a week in recovery and well, there you were. You had been assigned jobs that you could handle from a computer in the comfort of your room while Fury decided when you could return to the field.

“Yes, she has a fascination with electrocuting people for fun. I think we've seen worse, but she's pretty close.”

“Who could have done worst?”

Natasha and you answered without hesitation. “Ultron.”

“Are you serious?” Clint narrowed his eyes in disbelief.

“He may not have lasted more than a day, but if he had, we'd all be screwed. We wouldn't even be having this conversation because we'd be extinct,” you made your point, stealing some potato chips from Natasha's tray.

The redhead nodded at your words. “The android had access to the entire internet, the entire history of humanity and simply decided that extinction was the solution.”

“Mmm, I think you're giving him too much credit,” Clint waved his hand in a nonchalant gesture, after taking a huge bite of his burger. “Thor's brother was terrible too, wasn't he?”

Natasha and you looked at each other, before you both shrugged to reluctantly agree with Clint. Yes it was true that he had caused a lot of havoc, but that you say a worldwide threat, maybe not so much.

-

Natasha and Clint dropped you off in front of what had become your new office since working at the Complex. You had a long conversation with them about villains that you didn't want to hear about evil and malevolent plans again for quite a while, but you had to deal with that at work.

You sighed looking at the time on your cell phone. Bucky was supposed to be in there already.

Oh yeah, you worked with Bucky too. Why? You weren't quite sure, but the first day you were there, Barnes walked in like he owned the place without saying anything and sat in the empty chair across the room. The room wasn't that big, so you were always relatively close.

Besides, you also didn't know at what point Bucky became the tech guru enough for Fury to delegate a completely electronic job to him. But in order not to provoke anyone or anything, you decided to remain silent.

You opened the door with a sigh and… yes, there was Bucky.

“Hey, doll.”

He gave you half a look and went back to staring at the screen in front of him. You stuck your tongue out at his back with a frown and rolled your eyes as you closed the door. At first you were glad that you didn't have to argue with him all the time anymore, but sometimes you preferred that to having to put up with hearing that nickname all the time.

“If you really don't like it,” you heard Bucky's voice again after you sat down in front of your computer and you couldn't help but wince because you instantly knew what he meant, “why don't you ask me to stop?”

You knew he had turned to look at you, you felt his gaze drilling into your head, but you weren't going to turn to see him. You couldn't let him take the pleasure of seeing your agitated expression and the way your eyes gave you away. You were fighting too hard with yourself to try to keep all those weird feelings at bay for him to come along and upset you with five little words.

“You know I'd listen to you.”

“Stop it,” you turned against your will, trying to maintain a strong front. “Let me work.”

You turned quickly again, your heart beating so fast and hard against your ribs that you feared it might bolt. The quick glimpse you got of his playful blue eyes so close to you was enough adrenaline for the rest of the day.

God, you had to learn to control yourself more.

“As you wish, ma'am.”

God, how you hated it.

-

The second round that day was a couple of hours later, when the whole team was called together to give the weekly previews.

Tony and Steve went first, being the leaders of the missions against Dark Lightning, reporting that they had made great strides in locating several places she was using as hideouts thanks to information provided to them by intelligence, namely Bucky and you.

Clint gave a short report on his last mission and a strategy for the next attack was quickly planned.

Then, it was your dependency's turn. As you had spoken the week before, it was now Bucky's turn.

Without a word, the man moved to the podium and planted himself there looking at everyone present.

“We still have no new information on Dark Lightning. Her last location dated back to a place near New Mexico, but from there we lost track of her. We're using the satellites to see if we can find her.”

You shook your head in a nod. That was correct.

“We haven't detected any unusual developments about the HYDRA remnant settlements either. They seem to be… somewhat quiet for now.”

Yes, that was one way of putting it.

“We also need a new extension,” Bucky jerked his head in Fury's direction, who quickly nodded taking it for granted.

Ah, yes, you definitely needed it.

“And that's it. Anything you want to add, doll?”

Your own breath caught in your throat, causing you to hiccup which couldn't have been more embarrassing. As the blood froze in your veins, a string of awkward coughs and chair movements followed Bucky's words.

Even though you felt like you were dying inside, you looked him in the eye and firmly said, “No, Barnes.”

Your lethal gaze followed his soft smile and the way he nodded and then stepped down from the podium and walked to sit in his place next to you. As if he hadn't just embarrassed you, he picked up the bottle with water in front of him and took it as if it was nothing, paying attention to Wanda who had just taken his place.

And you wanted to pay attention to her, because sometimes the team would make requests and you had to take note, but you couldn't take your eyes off Bucky's profile in front of you, how his blue eyes were focused on Wanda or the way his lips curved slightly, almost imperceptible, that if you hadn't been watching as you were you would have missed it for sure.

You noticed his eyebrows raised as the room erupted in laughter. He took that moment to speak to you without looking you directly in the eye:

“What's wrong?”

You frowned at his profile. “What's wrong? You ask me what's wrong?”

At Bucky's puzzled look, you moved your chair until you were close enough to him for him to understand your whispers. Well, sure, though, super soldier…

“Why did you do that in front of the whole team?” you reproached him amid whispers, drawing a chuckle from him. All around everyone was still talking loudly, so Bucky didn't care too much about the sound of his voice.

You did. Not only because someone might hear you and embarrass you again if you didn't speak softer, but also because that laughter wasn't doing you any good. You felt your stomach turn until you felt like throwing up.

“I already told you that you can ask me to stop at any time and I will,” Bucky shrugged, his gaze still focused on the person on the platform.

“Why are you so insufferable?”

The man set the bottle with water down on the table and suddenly turned to face you. You were speechless at his closeness.

“Why don't you just say it? Or don't you want me to stop?”

You swallowed saliva as best you could, because suddenly your mouth felt too dry. You didn't know what his closeness was doing to your body, but you felt like you were going to explode like fireworks at any moment.

“I just want you to stop embarrassing me in front of the rest of the team,” you spoke between whispers, trying to keep your composure.

Bucky suddenly flashed that sly grin you hated so much.

“So you'd rather I only call you that when we're alone?”

You tried to calm your racing heart with deep breaths, but the truth was that you had lost all sense of reality several seconds ago. You felt like you were in a room alone with Bucky as a haunting silence enveloped you two as the tension continued to build. You could no longer hear any words but the ones coming out of his mouth and you could barely hear your thoughts. You felt that this exaltation was going to suffocate you.

And when his eyes lowered for less than a second, when you realized that he looked at your lips for a thousandth of a second, at that moment you came out of your trance. You blinked rapidly.

“I'd rather you stop trying to annoy me with those provocations.”

“What provocations, doll? We're just talking.”

You let out a growl under your breath, partly out of frustration and partly because of the euphoric way your body reacted to hearing his deeper-than-normal voice.

“You're getting on my nerves, Barnes.”

“Just say the magic words, doll. It'll be over as soon as you snap your fingers.”

“Why don't you just forget about it and leave it alone?”

“Because I like calling you that, don't you?”

“No,” you frowned at the bitterness that settled in the back of your throat. “You get on my nerves. You stress me out, Barnes.”

“God, you look so hot when you get mad.”

Bucky thought he mumbled it and he probably did, but neither of you noticed the dead silence that had taken over the room. You didn't even dare to tear your gaze away from his when you noticed his pupils disappear.

You didn't even have time to think about the abomination that had come out of his mouth, let alone its physical effect on your body, because shame came down on you once again like a bucket of cold water.

Fuck, not again. I can't.

I can't even narrate it.

-

The third round was the next day. You had been standing in front of the office door wondering if you should go in or not. Anyway, Bucky was doing such a good job for both of you, you didn't think much would happen if you didn't work that day. But no, the sense of responsibility wouldn't leave you alone.

So you opened the door and sat down quickly in your chair without even giving him a glance. But you still couldn't escape him.

On the table in front of the keyboard was a small open box with your favorite dessert from the cafeteria and a glass with a metal straw filled to the brim with your favorite drink. Maybe it was too early for that much sugar, but you couldn't help the smile your face succumbed to as you looked at two of your favorite things in front of you.

Until you heard him.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky spoke behind you.

Though the smile on your face disappeared, your chest constricted at the sound of his contrite voice. Ugh, you hated so much you couldn't control those crazy emotions inside your chest.

“Yesterday I got caught up in the moment and… Well, no, I was just willfully reckless. I'm sorry I put you through that.”

You sighed looking at the detail he had gotten you and thought deeply about his words. You knew his apology was sincere and that his detail came from the heart, but you felt confused inside about how to proceed.

“If you want me to stop, then I will.”

Your ears pricked up at that, straightening up on the back of the chair. Bucky was giving you what you had so desperately asked for finally, but… why didn't that make you feel good?

“I'm truly sorry for making you uncomfortable all this time. I thought… No, that doesn't matter. I should have stopped from the beginning. I'm sorry, Y/N.”

Unlike how you had felt on different occasions, that time when your heart pounded out of control, you felt a chill run through your entire body. You felt like your heartbeat was going to stop at some point because of the whiplash of pain that coursed through your chest.

No, that didn't feel right, so it must not be right.

You turned around on the swivel chair, meeting Bucky's pained face head on.

“If you want to yell at me, go ahead,” he said, straightening up and hardening his features as if he expected a blow.

“I…” the words crowded in your mouth, you weren't even sure what it was you wanted to say to him.

But his face softened once more and his clear eyes sparkling like two stars in the sky reassured you a little.

“I don't quite know how I feel,” you finally told him, your face contracted in concern. “I don't quite understand how I feel and… I don't think I can handle this.”

You pointed between you and Bucky, and the man finally took on a calmer expression. He let the air out as if he had finally pulled his head out of the water.

“That's fine, Y/N. It's a start. You may not know how to handle those emotions, but you can recognize them now.”

“But I don't know if I want them,” you frowned, your own body contradicting your words as you wanted to move closer to the man who had just tried to pretend that what he'd heard hadn't hurt a bit. “I don't know if I want to have these emotions for you.”

Bucky was silent for several seconds, his face inscrutable as your heart continued to pound wildly. For a moment you wondered if he could hear it too.

“That too- that's okay too,” Bucky nodded slightly, his eyes reluctantly moving from the floor to meet yours. The lack of brightness in them caused another ache in your chest. That was what you didn't want, that pain, that desperation to want to soothe it. You hated it. “It's okay if you don't want to have them. We could- could spend some time away so you can deal with it.”

“Would that solve it?” you dared to ask, even though your whole being screamed against that idea.

“I think it would,” Bucky gave you a smile, not at all similar to the ones you had seen before. That one was much sadder, duller, bleak…

“Then I think I might give it a try.”

No, maybe not, you wouldn't put up with that pain. It was better to feel the shame. Yes, definitely. Much better were Bucky's sly smirks instead of that smile that couldn't even reach his opaque eyes.

Oh no, what did you just do?