#as someone who partly grew up with Disney I knew this day would come eventually xd

[buckyreaderrecs]

So Far Away: Chapter 5/?

Summary:  Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!) 

First chapter in series. Previous chapter. 

Chapter 5:  It’s time to find your family.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists),  she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot,  Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety and PTSD, major triggers for death of loved ones and grief, chapter 5 only possible trigger for food

Note: Please heed the warnings for this chapter; it’s a bit intense. As always, I’d love to know what you think. xo Rhi

So Far Away Chapter 5/?

The first night you'd spent at Stark Tower was forgettable in the sense that you had completely forgotten most of it. Vaguely, there was a bath, and Bucky, then bed. That was pretty much it though. So, it wasn't like the day after needed to do anything particularly special to be considered memorable. And yet, it was.

As Bucky put all the Mexican food trash into the paper Ubereats bag, you flicked through channels on television.

"Have you seen this?" you asked, stopping on Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

"I know, I know! I don't know shit about anything, but in my defence, I've been busy helpin' to save the world since I've been… good," Bucky replied, highly defensive but also still in good humour.

"Um… I just meant, 'cause it's a super underrated Disney movie. And nobody's seen it, like Hercules," you told him, holding back a grin.

"Oh… Sorry. Sam's always yelling at me," he explained, throwing the Ubereats bag in the bin and walking back over the couch from the kitchenette.

"About movies?"

"About everything," he said, rubbing his face. "He's cut up about me missing, like, all of hip-hop."

It made you laugh, which motivated Bucky to continue his bitching about Sam Wilson. "And! He thinks me and Steve should have more 'refined taste' in everything." He used air quotation marks, which Natasha Romanoff had taught him to use, much to the dismay of Steve. ("Captain America.")

"Refined taste?"

"Yeah, basically he loses it when he we like anythin' he thinks is bad. Like…" Bucky cycled through his list of favourite things. "The Fast and the Furious movies."

An image flashed in your mind of Steve and Bucky, completely decked out in their respective gear, marathoning the films, cheering at every car stunt and use of the NOS button. It made you smile, genuinely happy.

Bucky continues, "They ain't my favourite or anythin', but they're fun, ya know? He's probably just upset that whenever we get in car races it's mostly someone trying to kill us,"

"I guess that's… fair, but he's… The Falcon… that's super cool?"

Bucky grinned, but quickly shook his head. "Don't ever tell him you said that, okay? Never tell Sam you think he's cool,"

"Is it like feeding Gremlins after midnight?" you asked.

"I watched that one! And, yeah. It's exactly like that,"

"But it's not like you guys don't get to see cool things… and be cool,"

"I guess… We're used to it?" Bucky thought for a second or two, wriggled into the couch and rested his arm along the back of it. You turned to face him, legs crossed and entirely attentive. "Before the war I loved reading about what new gadgets were comin' out. Used to drag Steve to anything with tech stuff. But then, Hydra. I wasn't really conscious enough to realise I was in the future," he told you, chuckling a little to himself like it was funny. It was so nonchalant that it shocked you a little. He hadn't stuttered saying their name, or shifted to a darker mood. "Whenever I got re-programmed, I was re-trained too. Whatever advancements they made, I learnt. Meant when Shuri fixed my head up, I wasn't that inept. Got it a lot easier than Steve that way,"

"Just movies and T.V. and stuff that you missed then?" you asked, feeling like you needed to keep him talking because you'd never heard anything so goddamn interesting.

"Yeah. Hydra didn't exactly have a Netflix subscription for me," he said. You said nothing. "That was a joke. You can laugh," Bucky told you, softly nudging your knee.

"I don't know how you joke about it," you said honestly.

He shrugged. "You'll joke about all this too, one day," he replied.

No. No, I won't.

Bucky saw the conflict flash across you face.

"It's not like there isn't things that still blow my mind… Wakanda, for one," he continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Is it as cool as it looks on T.V.?"

"Cooler. It's gotta be one of my favourite places. And when I met Wanda… She thought I was a bit of a meatball. Never met anyone with powers like hers, you know? She's amazing. And Vision. Still don't really get what he's about,"

"So, you are friends with Wanda Maximoff but you think Vin Diesel is cool?" you asked, affronted.

Bucky laughed. "No. I think the cars are cool. The stunts! Vin Diesel seems like a jerk."

Another image flashed. Someone in the world, Vin Diesel, knowing that The Winter Soldier thought he was a bit of jerk.

Bucky watched you laugh.

"Come on, then. What's this one about?" he asked, turning back to the television.

"Atlantis-"

"Underwater city? I'm in."

That's about where you realised that Bucky Barnes was a massive nerd.

It took Bucky ten minutes to tell you that you needed to keep warm, putting the knitted blanket over you. It took twenty to have him scoot closer to you, his arm still on the back of the couch, behind your head. About half an hour in, Bucky said, "Yeah, this is better than Snow White. I love this little mole guy."

Bucky was watching, listening for any signs that the lack of conversation had given you time to think, to spiral. But, it hadn't. Atlantis was a comfort movie for you, a distraction. He could see you smile and frown along with the characters.

"It was pretty obvious that this was gonna happen," Bucky said at the high point of the plot twist. He was aiming for a reaction. You looked at him fast and dramatic. "I'm good at picking the bad guys. Kinda my job."

At the rolling of the credits, Bucky asked, "Ice cream?"

As he put a collection of Ben and Jerry's on the counter top, Bucky caught himself in a sudden realisation. He was keeping you busy. Eventually, you'd notice, or the day would carry on and bedtime would come; the quietness between 'goodnight' and sleep would crush you, pushing from you anxiety and grief. But first, Bucky thought, ice cream.

"Half Baked," you said. Bucky handed you the pint and a spoon.

You watched him open the Strawberry Cheesecake, Cherry Garcia, and Urban Bourbon. "Variety is the spice of life," he said grinning, his voice a strange mocking tone, like he was parroting someone you'd never met.

"I genuinely don't know where all that food goes,"

"In here," he answered, lifting his shirt and patting his tummy.

"Yeah, but like, do you have one of those trash compactor things that mooshes it all down super small?"

Bucky laughed. "Maybe. Who knows what's going on inside 'ere."

You were sitting on a bar stool, leaning against the kitchenette's counter. Bucky put the spoons in the dishwasher and the uneaten ice cream away. He liked things in their place, you noted.

"So," he said, too casually. It felt, correctly, like a lead up. "How are you feeling?"

"Full," you answered, honest, but also not really.

Bucky looked at you, nodded. "What else?"

You dropped your gaze, breaking eye contact. A nervousness grew in you, the gatekeeper to all the bad. It was telling you to flee - answering the question wouldn't be nice. You could tell that Bucky wouldn't change the subject though. He could wait in that silence all day for you to speak.

"I…" you began. "I don't know. There's just… a lot,"

"Yeah. That makes sense. There is a lot… Probably good to start telling me about it." When you said nothing to that, he added, "Or someone else. We can-"

"I feel guilty," you blurted out, partly to stop him suggesting you talk to anyone else, partly because the gate was opening and the guilt as behind it in abundance. Bucky nodded like he already knew what you were going to say, and what you meant. "I… I'm here. Where I'm more than safe," you said, looking around at the suite. "But I haven't done anything to deserve it-" Bucky went to say something but stopped himself. "I'm not the most hurt, or the most useful person to save or anything like that. And then, I haven’t even looked-" That was it. The tears began to stream down your face, heavy and hot. You could feel them pooling in your shirt somewhere. The sentence you started was lost, completely drowned out by sobs.

Bucky remained composed. He fetched tissues from the bathroom, took it upon himself to clear your face, ready for the next wave. It arrived immediately. "Come 'ere," he said, pulling you into him. There would be wetness and snot all over his hoodie when you would eventually move, but you didn’t think of that in the moment and Bucky really didn’t care. He stood between your legs, rocking you gently on the stool for a minute before you spoke again.

"I haven't even looked for anybody," you said, so softly and so painfully that even priests in confessional booths would have hung their heads.

"How could you?" Bucky asked.

During the time before his head was really put back together, that is what everyone did with him. They challenged Bucky's questions, forced logic on him, rending much of the harmful conclusions he'd drawn about himself incorrect. It was a good strategy and he'd learned it well.

You half shrugged and kept crying. A cycle had begun in your mind. You were crying because you felt guilty, but that made you feel selfish and stupid. You thought you should be crying for other people. All of that, of course, made you feel more guilty, starting the cycle all over again. But maybe that cycle was easier to loop on than any real feelings of grief and loss.

"When were ya meant to have time to find people? Couldn't do it in the refuge centre. Too much goin’ on. And your hand was smashed, probably killin' you. And like Doc said - in shock," he said, paused, waited for a response.

Bucky's hands were moving up and down your back with enough pressure to calm you sobs into softer hiccups and sniffles.

"Yeah?" Bucky prompted. You nodded and shrugged simultaneously. "Okay, so, couldn't have done it on the way here or last night. You were exhausted. Could hardly keep yourself upright. Ain't much use to anybody like that."

You covered your nose with a tissue and sat up. Even if he didn't care, you didn't want him to see you with a face covered in snot. Bucky had the tact to look away while he continued. You listened as you wiped your face clean.

"This morning, whisked ya away to Medical. Then force fed you some food. And now, we're here. So, if you're asking me, darlin', not too sure when you think you were meant to do all this people finding, you know?"

Bucky could see it in your face that you knew he was right. When you nodded, saying, "I guess," he felt completely victorious.

You drank the glass of water Bucky poured for you, then took a breath in, two, three, out, two, three.

"Okay," you said, voice almost normal.

"Okay," he repeated in solidarity.

"Can we find them now?"

…

The room was definitely not for civilians, but nobody stopped Bucky from walking in with you. It was a buzzing hub of activity and urgency. Voices spoke fast, people moved faster.

"It's kind of like a command centre," Bucky tried to explain. "Whenever there's a threat, we have a response team that do… I guess what would happen if there was an earthquake or somethin'. Search and rescue. Coordinating relief."

You nodded and stayed close to Bucky's side, not wanting to get in anyone's way.

"Sergeant Barnes," a very tired woman greeted.

"Hey. I'm really sorry to-"

"No time for that. What can we do for you?" she cut him off.

"Finding people that were in the attack zone," he replied.

"Everything we know, F.R.I.D.A.Y. knows. Integrated systems. Find a computer, preferably not in here, and ask her. Anything else?"

"No. Thank-" but she was gone.

Bucky hooked an arm around your waist and walked you back to the elevator.

"She was amazing," you said.

Bucky grinned. "Never met her before, but yeah, lot of people like that around here."

On a floor of the tower that was much calmer, Bucky and you sat in what you supposed was some sort of crazy high-tech boardroom.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"James,"

"Oh, it's James now?"

"Yes. How can I be of assistance?"

The first step was making a list of everyone you knew who lived or worked in the part of D.C. that was affected. You named them, confirmed through social media accounts and DMV records.

"Do you guys have access to, like, everything?" you asked Bucky.

"Probably shouldn't answer that," Bucky replied, winking.

Step two was all F.R.I.D.A.Y. "I work fast, but I'd like to check my work, Y/N," she told you.

"If you can, can you check with-" Bucky went to ask.

"First responder reports?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked.

"Must be the day for being cut off by women smarter than me, huh?"

"I could be mistaken, James, but isn't that every day?"

Bucky laughed, looked at you for back up, but saw you staring at screen in front of you. The list of names.

Once you'd actually made it, you realised there were likely less people to find than you first though. Your housemate, Lucas, was a bike courier. He may have been out of the zone, 50/50 chance. Elizabeth, your best friend, lived on the next block over. She was home when the attack happened. You were watching her Instagram live; she was feeding her pet snake, Salem. Then, the girls at the hole in the wall café you worked at, Glory. You didn't know who was shift, so you listed all five.

There were more, but felt like naming everyone you knew would be greedy somehow. Bucky said, when you were ready, you could look through the list of the deceased. Even hearing the phrase made you feel sick though.

"Do you want to wait here?" Bucky asked.

You turned to him, ran your hands through your hair. "I don't know… I can't…" but whatever you couldn’t, you couldn’t even articulate.

Bucky nodded. "How about we get some fresh air? When we get back, F.R.I.D.A.Y. will have something for us?"

…

Out on the street, everything was loud. The whole back-in-reality thing really took you off guard. Seeing the city from the top of the Tower was different to this.

"I got ya," Bucky said, coming to walk right by your side. You looked over at him, and he offered his hand. You immediately accepted.

As you walked by multiple cafés, you wondered if Bucky had a favourite, or maybe there was a secret superhero club behind a hidden door in an inconspicuous bodega or Chinese restaurant. Alas, earwax - no such luck. Bucky held the door of a standard looking café open.

The guy behind the coffee machine nodded. "Buck,"

"Hey, Gee,"

"Seen ya's all on the news. Everyone okay?" Gee the barista asked, the genuine concern evident in his tone and expression.

"Ah, yeah. You know - nothing they can't handle," Bucky replied; you suspected it was the party line.

"Good, good. What can we get for ya then?"

"Don't worry about it, bud. I'll jump in line."

Gee shook his head and smiled as Bucky took his place in the queue to order. "You wanna grab a table? Or wait with me?" he asked you.

"Stay," you replied, stepping closer to him.

While you held your body in a way that shielded your broken bones from people's paths, it was easy being close to Bucky. He was probably very accustomed to being around the injured, so never accidentally hit the cast. You were grateful.

Bucky reached out and curled hair behind your ears, then leaned in to kiss the top of your nose. It was intimate, and brought solace. It was also very public; as he moved away, started greeting the girl at the counter, you realised there were more than a few pairs of eyes on you. Turning from the room, you stood closer to Bucky and listened to their conversation.

"You know I can't tell you that," Bucky said, leaning against the counter like he owned it.

"But, like, it's over, right? We won?"

"Tiff, would I be standing here if there was something else I could be doing?"

Tiff nodded, made a face like she'd been let in on a state secret. "Hmmm," she pondered for a second. Then, with pep, "So, the usual then? For one of Earth's mightiest heroes?"

Bucky rolled his eyes at her. "I hate you," he joked before looking at you. "What will it be?"

You hadn't really thought as far as ordering. Already feeling self-conscious and spaced out, the burning in your cheeks was getting hotter.

"Thinking maybe a pot of tea to share?" Bucky suggested, casual, but also sending you a quick wink - he was saving you again.

"Tea's great," you said.

After ordering, Bucky chose a couple of oversized armchairs by the window to sit in. He let you breathe, let you stare through the glass and people watch for a long time. He answered messages on his phone, checked in with Steve while you daydreamed. So deep in thought, or maybe just completely zoned out, you didn't even notice Bucky had made a call, or that the pot of tea had been placed on the small table between you.

Bucky said your name, but you failed to move. He reached out, tapped a knuckle against your knee. You gasped, felt your heart skip a beat.

"Sorry!" he said immediately. "Didn’t mean to scare you…"

"No, it's alright. I'm just… um,"

"You're alright, darlin'. How do you take your tea?"

It was a simple enough question, but you looked down at the table like it was all alien.

"Maybe you can make your own," Bucky said, pushing the tea tray closer to you. "Give you something to focus on. Bring you back down to earth."

…

Although you were hardly touching your tea or the cookies the staff brought over as a gift, Bucky let you sit for much longer than what anyone normally would. It was starting to get dark, the café closing around you, when you finally seemed to become aware of the rest of the world again.

"Oh. Should we go?"

"Sure," Bucky replied, standing and holding his hand out again.

After thanking everyone, you were out in the city, walking back to the Tower.

The silence that existed between you and Bucky was a comfortable one, but the closer you got to your destination, the more nervous you felt. Something in your mind snapped, told you to try to be normal. So, you started to talk. Fast. And a lot.

"Do you all go there? Like, the Avengers? It was nice. They really like you. The cookies were good-"

Bucky cut in, stopping you more than actually wanting to answer. "It's easier to go to the same places. The novelty of us eventually wears off," he told you.

"Yeah, people don't really stop staring, do they? Must get tiring, having everyone watch you all the time. And treat you different." You internally begged yourself to shut the fuck up.

"Guess I don't really know what 'normal' would be… Don't like people giving me free stuff all the time though. Don't need it. Not really a skip-the-line type of guy," he said.

You wondered how much charity he needed after Steve brought him back into the fold. Instead of asking about that, you thankfully went with, "Must be nice sometimes though?"

Bucky thought for a second. It was one of the changes in personality he experienced after Hydra. Bucky in the 30s and early 40s was a little bit of an attention seeker, a true lover of the limelight. Not so much anymore. He thought of you then - how you'd considered him to be a hero, and how you had needed him. How you still needed him.

"Maybe there's a couple perks."

You nodded, went quiet again. Bucky noticed that you switched between that frantic, almost manic state and scary quiet a fair bit. He rolled with it, a little notorious for the odd mood swing himself.

It was in the elevator of Stark Tower that you started to get jittery. The palms of your hands started to sweat, but Bucky didn't let go. He also tried to not seem like all of his attention was fixated on you, but it was. When he took you back to his suite, rather than the crazy high-tech boardroom, he thought about explaining why, but figured it wasn't one of the main things on your mind.

Sitting on the couch in the same place you'd eaten burritos for brunch, you pulled the knitted blanket back over yourself.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, sitting down next to you and putting a glass of water and box of tissues on the coffee table. You nodded. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., how'd you go?"

You felt sick, real deep down in your stomach. It was a pushing force, making you hot and uncomfortable. Suddenly, the blanket was too heavy and you pushed it away with a weird anger.

Bucky wanted to hold you, but he knew the sensation of feeling trapped by grief. He gave you space and braced himself for what was about to hit you.

"I'm not sure what the best order to deliver this is," F.R.I.D.A.Y. admitted. She knew the limits of her programmed humanity, and it was probably the most impressive thing about her.

"Good news first," Bucky said.

"I've located Lucas and Elizabeth. Lucas is currently residing in an apartment just outside the affected zone. It belongs to a Jacob Short,"

"That's his boyfriend's dad," you said, nodding to yourself. Lucas was safe.

"Elizabeth is currently admitted to Howard University Hospital. She has a broken clavicle and humerus, and damage to the glenohumeral joint - all to her right side. She is in stable condition."

You breathed out hard, then took a tissue to your face. You'd not even noticed that you'd started to cry.

"Glory was destroyed," F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued.

That's when you looked up from the patch of floor you'd been staring at. On the screen of the television, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been showing you relevant things - the Facebook status geotagging Lucas at his boyfriend's family home, the rental agreement that showed who lived at that address, Elizabeth's medical records, even security footage of her in the hospital.

You shouldn't have looked up.

For a moment, Bucky didn't understand why your breathing had all but stopped. Average people don't get a slideshow to accompany their bad news. He looked at the screen. A photo, then another, showed the entire building Glory was a part of reduced to rubble.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., maybe we don't need the show with the tell," Bucky said.

"No!" you yelled. "I need to see."

If there was information, visual or verbal, you needed it.

"I logged into WorkForce using your credentials to view the roster. Two people were working at the time of the attacks: Carly Underwood and Ellie Gilbert," F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. Before she said it, you knew it. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Both have been put on the list of deceased. Carly has been identified officially. Ellie is pending, but using our facial recognition and matching, I can confirm it's her."

You stood up, ripping the hoodie you were wearing off. If it was too hot before, now you felt like you were made of lava.

Bucky watched you start to pace. Your expression was alarmingly flat.

"The rest of your co-workers are safe. Only a Tara Constantine was in the affected area. She was on a bus moved to safety by Peter Parker."

There was footage taken from somebody's phone of Spiderman saving bus and carloads of people.

"I used your social media accounts to create an index of known people. As far as I can tell, you do not directly know anyone else on the list of deceased."

The phrase was still making you feel sick.

Bucky mistook that as F.R.I.D.A.Y. being finished. He thanked her, asked her to keep him updated if anything changed.

"Sorry, Sergeant. There's more."

Both you and Bucky went still. What else could there be?

"Your parents, Y/N,"

"They live on the other side of the city. Probably worried about me, right?" You turned to the screen, expected to see a worried Facebook posted asking if anyone had seen you. How could telling them you were safe not be your first thought? Stupid. Selfish.

On the screen was a grainy traffic cam photo of your parents driving. It was time and date stamped.

"They're fine," you said.

"Y/N, I'm sorry… Your parents aren't on the list of deceased-"

"Yeah, because they're fine!"

Suddenly, you remembered you did call them. You were still in the refuge centre, and it took you an hour to find someone with a phone willing to share. First, you called your dad, but it went straight to voicemail. Your mum didn't pick up. Only a month before, they'd had the landline switched off. How did you forget calling?

"But using street surveillance, I tracked their car into the affected zone. They got caught in the attack-"

"No. No. They hate that part of town. I didn't even move in that long ago and they already hate it. There's no reason for them to be there," you said, angry. No reason… except you.

"I checked through unidentified photographs-" she tried to continue, her voice noticeably more robotic than Bucky had ever heard it. He was grateful to have her then.

"The what?" you asked, confused and flustered and still feeling so fucking sick.

Bucky sighed, figured he should explain that one. "It's the same as natural disasters… When they find bodies, move them to try to identify them, they make a catalogue of photos to help. F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s saying she checked through them,"

"So? They're fine,"

"Our facial recognition and matching have a 100% accuracy record, but… I could be wrong," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

Bucky knew she wasn't, and was discomforted by her attempt at gentleness.

"Wrong about what?" you spat, already knowing.

"I believe your parents have passed away,"

"Show me," you said.

"Y/N, I-" from Bucky.

"Show me!" you yelled, moving to the screen, standing so close you swore you could feel the electricity buzzing from it.

The photographs from traffic cams were still up, static. You stared them down, waiting.

Bucky walked to you, stood behind you, held his breath.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't speak again. She showed you all the photos of your parents she had found to base her conclusion on. The reach of her skills became apparent and terrifying. There was no way she and everything she could do, was legal. As photos from private accounts, devices, and websites flashed up, along with dozens from the DMV and work place IDs, you felt all the heat you'd brewed up drain from you.

Your body began to meltdown - you needed to pee, your mouth went dry, and earaches formed out of nowhere. It felt like you were being stabbed in the lower back. None of it made sense.

The screen went still again.

"Show me," you said once more.

Two overexposed photographs appeared on screen. Both were framed similarly - head shots of undeniably dead people. Also undeniable was the fact that they were the corpses of your parents.

"Turn it off," Bucky said.

The screen went black but you didn't look away. As long as you stayed there staring, the image wouldn't fade. You could see them in your mind. You could see the indent in your father's head, skull visible. You could see the blood on your mother’s face. Tape held their eyelids closed.

"Y/N," Bucky whispered, standing close. He waited for a response. Time was ticking by excruciatingly slowly. "Y/N, I'm gonna help you to bed," he said, but you flinched, so he stopped moving towards you. "Okay… That's okay. You can stay-" but before he could end the sentence with 'here,' you screamed out a guttural cry that mutated into sobbing.

Very quickly for Bucky then, time sped up again. It was moving too fast though. Your legs gave up, and he caught you only just before hitting the floor. You crawled out of his arms, along the floor, dry heaving between sobs and yelped of pain as you ignored the fact one hand was crushed. In the couple of seconds it took him to work out if you were going to throw up, you did. You puked all the Mexican and tea you'd had, then continued to crawl, making it close enough to a wall that you could lay on your side and lean against it.

Bucky knelt in front of you, tried to pull your hair into the tie that was usually around his wrist. Once successful, he went to retrieve a cold, wet wash cloth. He wiped your face but gave up when the sobbing seemed to get louder. He could make out words sometimes. For the most part, there was nothing coherent in your mind to articulate. You curled up into a ball, switching between deep sobs and outright screams.

Eventually, it all subsided into an even crying but you stayed in a tight ball. Bucky sat beside you, pressed close enough that he could feel each movement you made. After hours, once you'd gone quiet, Bucky whispered, "I'm gonna look after you, Y/N. Promise."

Chapter 6 coming soon...

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Tag list for all my work: @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the--sad--hatter @fairislesheets (of course it doesn’t let me tag you! I’ll message you)

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#mine #So Far Away #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes reader insert #Marvel #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes/You #Bucky Barnes x You

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire - Bonus Chapter

Summary: 

“I knew your mother,” Tony said, figuring it was the right way to start. “You know this. She used to work for me and I liked her a lot. We were friends and she sort of reached a part of me that very few people could in those days. I think it was partly because she was brilliant and because she didn’t bore me like most people did. I didn’t love her – not like that, but I cherished her friendship.”

“Mr. Stark why are you telling me–”

“She left when she found out she was pregnant,” Tony said and had to glance up, “and didn’t even bother to tell me about it.”

-

It was a one night stand and Tony had a lot of them, but this one changed everything. Tony always knew Peter Parker existed. He had no idea that Peter would become Spider-Man, but he kept tabs on his son, even when he couldn’t meet him. Peter Parker grew up unaware of his superhero father, admiring Iron Man from afar and unaware that one day he would too become a super-hero - an Avenger. Spanning the entirety of the MCU , this fic covers a canonical view of what it would be like if Peter was Tony’s biological son dwelving heavily into the canon. AU post-Infinity War with an AU version of Endgame. Stony endgame.

As of 8/12/19 this fic is complete. 

-

Bonus Chapter: A look forward at life after Morgana joins the family. 

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past), Peter/MJ

Notes: This is a bonus chapter. One of hopefully a few more that I plan to write. (don’t know when) I’ve been wanting to revisit this verse for a long time and so here we are. This is a bunch of snapshots of what happens after the adoption goes through and this was completely self-indulgent but also meant for every single person that still thinks about this fic and that loved it the whole way through or that just read it recently because I do appreciate all of you and your kind words. 

I do want to remind everyone that the Morgana of this verse is not quite Morgan from canon as Morgana is not Tony and Pepper’s daughter so I do want that slight distinction although of course it is up to the reader how they view it. 

I hope you guys enjoy this new addition to Walking The Wire. 

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony. 

Masterpost

On Ao3

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Bonus Chapter - Morgana 

-

Her hair was dark, not quite black but a deep brown and it fell right past her shoulders, messy and clearly tangled. She was on the floor, her small hands putting blocks together and ignoring anything around her to keep working. She didn’t even seem to notice that she was being watched. 

“That’s her,” Steve said from next to Tony. He sounded awed. 

The social worker nodded. “Yes. Morgana.”

Morgana stood up once her tower was complete. She walked over to a chest of toys and Tony noted that everything looked just a little worn down and well used. Then again, it was a children’s visiting room. 

“Do you want to meet her?” 

“Yes,” Tony said at once. Steve nodded next to him and gave Tony’s hand a squeeze. If all went well, they’d be meeting their daughter. 

The social worker laughed. “I figured as much. Come on.” 

Nerves hit him, then, and he had to stop. 

“Tony?” Steve asked. 

Tony took a breath and then he nodded and he followed after his husband and the social worker and then they were walking into the room. Morgana looked up when they entered, frowning a little, which just made her look even more adorable.

“Hi,” Tony said. 

“Morgana, this is Tony and Steve,” the social worker said. 

“Hi,” Morgana said, her voice low and shy. She looked at them, but then her eyes were focused on her toys again. 

Tony stepped forward and Steve was close behind, bending down to her level. 

“Do you mind if we play with you?” Steve asked. “We can help you build something.”

Morgan took a moment to think about it and then she nodded. It was easy after that. She let them sit with her and she instructed them on block placement and Tony knew that she belonged with them. It didn’t take long for her to warm up to them and for her to move closer . Morgana spoke a little often too low for Tony to catch what she was saying, but he wouldn’t change anything about her. 

“I love her already,” Tony told Steve later when they were leaving. 

When Steve smiled at him, eyes a bit watery, Tony knew that Steve agreed. 

—

It was entirely possible that they had all gone a little crazy when setting up Morgana’s room. Peter would forever remember the way that Bucky had taken one look inside and just broken down into laughter. It was worse because it wasn’t even going to be her room for long considering the move although Peter figured Morgana would need a room at the tower as well as at the farm. The social worker hadn’t said much when she saw it. 

He didn’t go with his dad and Steve to pick Morgana up in part because he didn’t want to deal with his dad and Steve acting so nervous — he’d already dealt with all that in the hours before they left to pick her up — but because Peter also had a small welcome home party to get together while they were gone. It included banners and balloons and K-9 getting in Peter’s way due to all the excitement. 

Bucky and Sam were instrumental in getting a lot of the party planned without Tony and Steve knowing about it. Pepper too for that matter. Peter had also invited Aunt May, MJ, and Ned along with any Avenger that was around. Their family. Morgana’s new family. 

Friday warned them when his dad and Steve were back, so they were all ready and waiting when the elevator doors opened and they stepped out. 

Steve was holding his little sister. She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked around and her brown eyes seemed to take everything in before a curtain of her dark hair fell over her face. 

“Who — we didn’t need this,” Tony said at once. 

Peter stepped forward. “Morgana needs a welcome party,” he said with a shrug.

Morgana looked at him, then, and smiled. 

“Hi,” Peter said. 

She didn’t respond. 

“She’s a bit shy,” his dad said with a grin and then ran a hand down her arm. “Hey, Morgana, we have someone we want you to meet. This is Peter.”

Her lips moved but she didn’t say anything. She didn’t say much to anyone and it made Peter wonder if maybe the party was a tad overwhelming for her. He didn’t have to worry long, though, because as soon as Morgana had gotten a bit more used to the new environment, she was more interested in meeting everyone. 

“She’ll fit right in,” Pepper said to him. 

“I think so,” Peter said. 

—-

Peter realized fairly quickly that it wasn’t all fun and games, having a sister. She was cute. And when he first saw her he’d known right away that he was going to love her, but none of that had prepared him for what it meant to have a toddler in the tower. Or what it would do to Steve and his dad. At first it had been a bit funny and he and Bucky had gotten a kick out of it. 

It was just that Morgana had started off quiet and shy, but as soon as she had gotten used to them — which had happened only after a few days — she had shown her energetic and mischievous side. She was curious and brave and willing to get into anything and everything. The baby proofing did it’s job at keeping her safe, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t get into trouble in other ways like how she’d managed to somehow detach K-9’s ear or how she’d snuck into Peter’s room and gotten into his webbing and gotten stuck to the foot of his desk. 

Worse than keeping up with her and someone needing to watch her all the time was that she was a difficult eater and even worse to get into a bath or into her bed — even when tired. It was just a little bit funny to see his dad and Steve so defeated by a little girl. 

Still, she brought with her a joy that made their family whole. Peter loved the moments when he could sit with her and play with her legos or when he could get her to sit still long enough to watch a Disney movie. Morgana loved The Little Mermaid best followed closely by Mulan. 

Sometimes, Peter caught Steve looking at Morgana like he was shocked to see her there. It was a happy shock, the surprise that nothing had truly troubled them since Thanos.

His dad was full of warmth when it came to Morgana. He was just so much lighter and so much happier and at peace even if sometimes it did seem like all the nights when he’d spent not sleeping had done nothing to prepare him for how wearing it could be to take care of a child. 

“You’ll be happier when we’re not in your hair, won’t you, kid?” Tony said one day while they were down in the workshop. 

Peter was working on figuring out how to get marker off of K-9. K-9 had been programmed to give Morgana free reign which meant that Morgana did whatever she liked with the robot dog. Peter was glad the dog wasn’t a real dog that could actually get hurt although he doubted that Morgana would have hurt an actual living animal. She thought of K-9 like a toy. 

“Who even gave her markers?” Peter asked. 

“Steve was giving her an art lesson,” his dad said. “But that’s what I’m talking about. You’re ready to go off to college and not have me and Steve around, aren’t you?” 

In truth, he was probably going to miss all of them. 

“And, well, your sister is a handful,” Tony added. 

“Clearly meant to be your daughter,” Peter said. 

Morgana even kind of looked like Tony a little and Peter supposed that meant that she also sort of looked like him since he took after Tony in some respects. 

“Yeah, well,” Tony said. 

“I’m always going to need you,” Peter said eventually after trying acetone on the scribbles that Morgana had proclaimed to be flowers earlier. “And this is not coming off. I think she used permanent marker.”

“So give him a new paint job,” his dad said. “Well, I expect a lot of visits. At least once a week.”

“Might be pushing it with school and Spider-Man.” 

“Well as often as you can come, then? Steve will get lonely if you don’t come around.” 

Peter laughed. “Sure he will.” 

—

On the day of the big move, Peter and Steve did the bulk of moving things into a Quinjet while Tony watched Morgana. There wasn’t actually a lot moving over since his dad had elected to just furnish the farmhouse with brand new everything. The lab in the tower was staying at it was and the one in the barn had already been outfitted. Mostly, the things moving were Steve’s art things, their clothing, some of Morgana’s toys and a few other odds and ends for which a replacement or double wouldn’t suffice. His dad was taking a singular suit over seeing as he really had stuck to his retirement — other than that whole incident with the field trip and Beck — but it was still always a good precaution to keep a suit around. 

His dad seemed pretty confident that he’d be returning to the tower from time to time despite his wish for the quiet farm life. Part of it, Peter knew, would be because of SI and because of Peter.

Peter flew with them in the Quinjet and between him and Steve they unloaded everything but didn’t bother to get any of the unpacking done. 

Morgana was excited about being outside near grass. She ran around squealing and pointing out things like butterflies and had even somehow gotten ahold of a ladybug that she ran up to Peter to show off before it flew away. 

“She loves it here already,” Steve said, a hand landing on Peter’s shoulder. 

They watched her together as Tony picked her up and spun her in the air to a new round of giggling. Sometimes, watching his dad with Morgan gave him a bitter taste in his mouth that made him wish that he had gotten to be raised by him. As if sensing what he was thinking, Steve’s hand squeezed his shoulder. 

“It took everything in him. In both of us to not steal you as a baby. Not that it actually would have changed anything for you with the way time travel works.”

“I know,” Peter said and he let Steve pull him into a side-hug. 

“We love you, kid.” 

Peter chuckled. It wasn’t something he didn’t already know. “I love you too, Steve.” 

—

Tony didn’t know how people had more than just one kid. He really had no idea how they handled it because just the single one was a handful — more than that, she required two hands at all times. Morgana had endless energy. It seemed, even, that she could tire Steve out. Nonetheless, Tony didn’t regret for even a minute adopting her. She made the change from superhero to civilian life worth it. Tony was also finding himself understanding Clint a hell of a whole lot more. 

“She’s out,” Steve said. “She likes hearing about her big brother.” 

“Better Spider-Man than either of us,” Tony said with a grin. 

Steve rolled his eyes and dropped into the bed with a tired sigh. “It’s not even nine,” he said. “How am I so tired?”

“I told you not to go on a run this morning.” 

Steve just groaned and Tony couldn’t help but laugh, but he still moved to sit next to his husband and he reached for Steve’s hand. “Mrs. Hawkeye says they’re energetic at this age.” 

“Mrs. Hawkeye,” Steve repeated. “Since when do you have conversations with Clint’s wife?” 

“Since she’s the only person I could think of to call when Morgana had that fever a few weeks ago.” 

Tony had been freaking out that day. Steve had been off at the Avengers Compound meeting with Carol, T’Challa, and Rocket about something Tony didn’t even want to know much about so it had been Tony on his own at the farm with their daughter. Thinking about Morgana as his daughter, it always warmed his heart. On that particularly day, though, with Morgana spiking a fever and Friday offering him help that Tony couldn’t help but feel just wasn’t enough, he’d called May but she wasn’t picking up and so he’d called Bruce who told him everything Friday had already told him to do. Somehow, Tony had ended up calling Laura. Mrs. Hawkeye. 

She was the only one that got it, how it felt to have a sick child and the not knowing what would happen next. Since then, they’d started texting and she started giving him parenting advice or just talking about the whole experience of raising a young child. It was nice in a weird way. In the way that he could have a whole hour long video call with Shuri about any of their projects and then a few minutes after it was over get a call from Laura Barton and have a whole completely different kind of talk. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for that,” Steve said. 

By the time that Steve had gotten back to the farm, Morgana had been mostly better, if less rambunctious. She’d gone back to normal a few days later. 

“You didn’t miss much,” Tony said. “Anyway, I’m gonna let you rest, old man. I have a few more things to get done in the lab. The new suit for Peter is coming along and I’m hoping to finish it before this weekend.” 

Steve sat up and pulled him into a quick kiss first. 

“Don’t stay up too late. The little miss will want you up early for breakfast.” 

“The rooster will hopefully be up after her,” Tony said. 

Steve let out a tired sigh. “Remember when I didn’t want chickens?” 

—

No one knew for sure how or when Morgana decided to start calling Tony dad, but Steve was pretty sure that it was somehow related to Peter. Morgana looked up to him, loved him in a different way. It was a sibling thing, but it was also because Peter came and went but was still very much a part of their family. Peter also tended to just have endless energy and time for Morgana when he came to visit. 

It still came as a surprise to him and Tony when on a Monday after Peter had gone back to the city for school, when they were sitting down for breakfast, Morgana just said:

“Dad, can I have more juice?” 

They must have stared at her for a long moment before her face twisted with confusion. 

“You are my dad aren’t you? Like you’re Peter’s dad?” Morgana had asked then, looking at Tony. 

“Yeah,” Tony said then, his voice gruffer than usual and full of emotion. “Of course I am.” 

“Can I have more juice?” Morgana asked again. She didn’t realize the effect she had on them. 

Steve got up to get it and refill the cup for her. When he sat back down, Tony shared a smile with him and then looked at Morgana as she took a few sips of her juice. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony said, “do you know that Steve is your dad too?”

Morgana scrunched up her face in confusion and Tony just grinned. 

“But...I can’t call him dad too,” Morgana said. “Can I?” 

They had never actually discussed the whole thing. With Peter, Steve had always just been Steve and Steve had never minded even though Peter may as well have been his son. He loved him that way. They were family. 

It didn’t surprise Steve when a few days later, Morgana was calling him, “papa” although it did make him choke up a little. That did surprise him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me if would feel like that?” Steve asked Tony later that night. 

“What?” 

“Her calling me papa,” Steve said. “Felt like it wasn’t just us that chose her, but that she was deciding that it’s true. Deciding she’s ours.” 

Tony kissed him. 

—

The weekends when Peter managed to go to the farm were some of the best ones. A few times, MJ had gone with him and other times Ned just to get out of the city for a while. It was nice to retreat and to go to a place where things were just different. It wasn’t exactly peaceful at the farm. His dad had gone ahead with the plan of getting chickens and a few cows. Steve had called him in a panic at one point when he saw that Tony was looking at alpacas. So far no alpacas had appeared at the farm, but it was likely that they would soon. 

“Peter, be the voice of reason,” Steve had said over the phone. “We can’t house more animals here.” 

“Technically, you have plenty of space,” Peter reminded him. He still wanted to get a real dog for the farm.

It always seemed like there was something going on there, but then Tony Stark needed to be entertained and kept busy and having a toddler wasn’t enough to do that. His dad still worked on a lot of the tech for The Avengers and he helped in any way that he could as long as it didn’t mean leaving the farm. Peter suspected that his dad was convinced that if he went over to the tower or to the compound that he would get pulled into whatever the team was dealing with hands on. He wasn’t opposed to any of The Avengers visiting. He would even happily take visits from The Guardians. 

Steve was still more involved and Peter wasn’t too surprised the couple of times that he’d actually run into him when he joined The Avengers when something was going wrong in the city. Peter didn’t do a whole lot of work with The Avengers unless he really needed to. Being a college student, he hardly had the time but Peter was unwilling to give up being Spider-Man. 

He didn’t get to visit his dad and Steve every single weekend, but he did go as often as he could. Sometimes, his dad would just show up at the tower because it’d been too long between visits and Peter loved getting those surprises. Sometimes it was just his dad, but most of the time it was Steve and Morgana too which was always fun. 

So, it was a nice surprise for his dad when Peter managed to do two weekends in a row. He’d managed to finish up all his papers early and other than some reading, Peter didn’t have any school work for once and he hadn’t planned to go to the farm, but then it turned out that MJ was too busy to see him. He had considered going to see Aunt May but she was scheduled to be at work all weekend. So, Peter had made the choice to go back to the farm. 

Morgana had been the first to see him arrive because she was outside playing in the playhouse that he and Tony had built her before the semester started. At first the plan had been for a tree house until Steve pointed out that Morgana might fall if she decided to go up there without anyone watching her. Which, knowing Morgana, was likely. 

“Peter!” Morgana yelled when she spotted him and threw herself at his legs. He let her crash into him, but then grabbed her under the armpits and swung her up into the air, before he brought her down into a hug. 

She laughed and squirmed in his arms. “Dad’s working,” she told him. “But Papa is making lunch.” 

He raised an eyebrow at hearing her call them dad and papa. It felt new and right at all once. It did make him wonder what had finally made her decide to call them that. Peter had done a bit of research about adoption and the kinds of things that adopted kids went through. Morgana, so far, didn’t seem to be struggling with it. 

“Well, come on, then, we’ll sneak into the workshop first.” 

She grinned at him. 

Later that night, Morgana insisted that Peter read her a bedtime story. He read to her from one of the many children books that she had accumulated on a bookshelf and it was after he’d finished one story that she grabbed his wrist. 

“Peter, why do you call papa, Steve?” 

“Uh...that’s his name,” Peter said. 

“But he’s your papa too,” Morgana said and then yawned. 

Peter decided to ignore the question. “So one more story, you said?” 

She nodded and settled into her bed again. 

Peter read to her, but his mind was elsewhere. The thing about it was that Steve was his other dad. There was no denying that and they all knew it. It was just that there had never needed to be any label put on that. Peter did remember the one single time when he’d come close to calling Steve “dad”, back right after the field trip when it had been him and Steve and hot chocolate and Steve had been there for him through the whole mess. He’d come close to saying it then, but it just hadn’t happened and Peter didn’t think he ever needed to call him that. 

He thought it over, over the next few days especially since Morgana tended to glare at him every time that he called Steve, Steve. 

“It’s nice seeing you around here more often,” Tony said on Sunday when Peter was preparing to head out. 

“Yeah...I don’t know if I’ll be back before Spring Break, now,” Peter admitted. 

“We’ll visit,” Steve said. “I’ve been craving some apple crostini so there’s lots of reasons to go.” 

Peter laughed and Steve nudged his shoulder. “So, Morgana stopped calling you guys by your names.” 

Steve smiled in such a pleased way that Peter almost felt like he should be congratulating him. 

“We think it’s a good sign that she really sees us as her family,” his dad said. “Oh...and before I forget. I have some web fluid for you.”

Morgana appeared then to say goodbye to Peter before she returned to chasing the chickens out of their coop. 

“You know, he got those chickens and I never see him out there collecting eggs or cleaning out that coop,” Steve said. 

“I think he’s trying to get U or Butterfingers to do it,” Peter said. “Or maybe he’ll build a whole new robot just to take care of the chickens.” 

At that Steve laughed, but they both knew it would be a real possibility. 

“Papa! Look...there’s an egg!” Morgana yelled to them and sure enough she was holding a brown egg in her hand. 

Steve took it from her before she dropped it. 

“Missed one,” Peter said. “But it’s nice to know she’s settling in with you. And I guess. Well maybe it’s a sign I call you something other than Steve,” Peter said. “She kinda mentioned it to me...that you’re my dad too.” 

Steve sort of froze. “Peter, you don’t—”

Peter just smiled at him. “She’s right. Kind of. As right as a four year old can be.” 

“Morgana is never wrong,” his dad said when he returned carrying a bag with the bottles of web fluid. 

Peter grinned at them both. “Well, I should get going.” 

He hugged his dad and then Steve and as he was walking away he turned and called out to them, “I’ll miss you, Dad. Pops.” 

Steve chuckled and Peter turned away from them. 

—

Morgana’s birthday was a big affair. It was her first birthday with them and what Tony had originally intended to be a small party became something much bigger when word got out to Natasha that there was going to be a party. She managed to invite everyone. 

Morgana didn’t have any friends her age because she didn’t go to school yet or go to any childcare places, but she was fond enough of all the adults in her life as well as Clint’s kids that she didn’t seem too bothered by it. Tony thought that maybe they did need to socialize her more. A kid couldn’t spend all their time with chickens. Then again, she would be starting school soon. Most kids made friends there. 

It was nice to have everyone around for something happy, too. Rhodey had elected to be the one in charge of the grill with Bucky helping him out so at least Tony didn’t have to deal with that. Instead, Tony got to sit and catch up with his friends. They didn’t talk about Avengers business much but Tony got caught up on a few of the things that had happened recently. Nothing as bad as Thanos. Still, the universe was ever throwing things their way. 

Natasha filled him in on their newer recruits and how they were considering having a second Avengers team situated on the West Coast and Tony figured it was probably a good idea. 

Tony also got to catch up with Laura in person for once. Morgana was enjoying her time with Laura’s kids even if they did keep going to disturb the chickens. 

Tony spotted Peter around with MJ and Ned at his side. Somehow, his kid was still starstruck by Thor. He did see MJ making fun of him with the help of Shuri while Ned tried to defend him. Peter was grown up. It was weird to think about him that way, but it was true. He was in college and thriving and he was Spider-Man and that was working out well for him. Tony was proud if maybe less willing to just let him go. It would be the same with Morgana one day, he knew. It just meant he would need to cherish all his time with her. 

By the time that it was time for the big birthday cake that Happy had gone to pick up and that Pepper had ordered, Tony had managed to have a few minutes with everyone that had come and he’d realized that the last time he saw everyone was the wedding. 

“Nice to have them around,” Steve said. 

“It is. Although, Thor already broke the chicken coop. And...I think there was a minor fire in the living room.” 

Someone laughed loudly and when Steve nudged him, Tony was aware that he really didn’t mind. 

The cake was brought out with a few candles adorning the top of it. Morgana clapped her hands while they sang to her and she leaned forward and blew out her candles, getting cake on her hair in the process.

“Remember, you have to wish for something,” Peter told her. 

Later, Tony saw Peter asking her what she wished for, but she wouldn’t answer him. “It won’t come true if I tell.” 

“Is it a dog? Because I want a dog and I know you probably want a dog.”

Morgana refused to answer and Peter kept pestering until she ran away from him. So, Tony went to sit next to him. 

-

Notes: I really loved going back into this world and into these characters. It’s strange because having been removed from this fic for so long, I don’t quite remember all the details. But I did want to explore a bit more of this world even if there is no concrete plot. I hope anyone reading this enjoyed it. 

Also...look, I managed to do this about 11 months after the epilogue was posted which is insane because I wanted to have something up maybe a month or two after the epilogue was posted. But less than a year still so there’s that. lol. 

And I do still have plans to write at least one more bonus chapter focusing on a version of Far From Home. (I hope it won’t take me 11 months to do so). I have a lot of it written, actually, but it needs a lot of plot related polishing. So do expected it eventually. 

Thanks again to anyone reading and I’d love you hear your thoughts on this bonus chapter. :)

Tagging: @findmeinthestarss

#iron dad #iron dad and spider son #peter and tony fic #mcu fic #peter and tony #stony #stony fic #walking the wire fic #emquin fic #my fic

[dragons-in-bowties-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[fuckyeahslightlyamusing-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[tothe-tooth-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[typhoonprecious-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[inkundu1]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[cowgirluli-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[ungracefulswan-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[theinternetismylyfe-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

The post Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood appeared first on HelloGiggles.

[gayyogurt-blog]

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

Aretha Franklin's music was my rite of passage into womanhood

On January 3rd, 1987, Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Here, a contributor reflects on how Aretha provided the soundtrack to her life as she grew up and experienced her first heartbreak.

I wasn't even born yet when Aretha Franklin became the first woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, but less than two months later, I would make my premature entrance into the world-a Black girl child raised on Aretha's music. Aretha started singing at a very young age, performing in her father's church, and her career in secular music began at the age of 18. Aretha would go on to create a universe out of her emotions, her power, her will, and her heart. And although she had already been an active musician for decades before I arrived, it would be her voice that would guide me into the most important transition of my life.

Aretha Franklin's music was a sonic guide for my entry into womanhood-specifically as a woman in love for the first time.

Having the experiences to match her lyrics, allowing me to fully understand her music, was my right of passage. Her voice is a gospel in itself, and her mission embodies all of my first heartaches and first encounters with romantic love.

As a child of the '90s, my life was filled with Disney movies and cartoon sagas, stories of princes cast as the lone saviors of princesses who need to be saved. In contrast, Aretha Franklin taught me about the realities of love-not just the fairytales. And while I would come to learn that it's okay to be rescued, Aretha was proof that you can also just rescue your damn self.

I didn't know what heartbreak sounded like until I heard “I Never Loved A Man (The Way I Love You).” When Aretha shrieks at the song's end, it feels like her chest and throat are on fire-not from sickness, but from pain. And it's a specific kind of pain.

When I first heard it, my greatest romantic ache was my third grade crush teasing me about my head size. When I listen to it now, I'm reminded of being 24, spending a break at work crying in the backseat of my car because the love of my life was marrying someone else that day. Her voice welcomed me into heartbreak; it was a welcome that I had never expected to meet, but Aretha already knew it would happen eventually.

Jan 3, 1987: Aretha Franklin became the 1st woman inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. #80s pic.twitter.com/TeCXuq0B2H

- Old School 80s (@OldSchool80s) January 3, 2019

When I was in the fifth grade, my best friend and I wore out the Waiting To Exhale movie soundtrack because of Aretha. Her song, “Hurts Like Hell”-so brilliantly produced by Babyface-was the reason why. We sang and cried our little hearts out to that song, mainly because it's impossible not to feel something when she sings, and partly because our crushes were being airheads.

Now, this song reminds me that our perspective of a beautiful thing can become tainted over time, especially when it comes to relationships. If you had told me back in 2008 that I wouldn't end up with my college boyfriend, I wouldn't have believed you. Now, as a woman who has outgrown tons of different relationships and situationships, I know that, sometimes, our “firsts” don't last forever. And that's okay.

No love story is perfect, but I aim for a love that embodies “Call Me” and “Day Dreaming” instead of “Dr. Feelgood.”

The Queen of Soul always controlled her own narrative, determined to express herself and make her own decisions. Whether her songs were happy (“Wonderful”), sad (“Ain't No Way”), political (The Blues Brothers version of “Think”), or proclamations of her faith (her Amazing Grace album is now a Sunday staple), Aretha always made sure that she was heard. She was not afraid to tell you what she was and was not going to do.

Aretha had full autonomy-not just over her body, but over her mind, her feelings, and her expressions of pain.

She wrote and arranged the blueprint for my womanhood, and prepared me for experiences that would test my heart, my soul, and my power. Each time I choose to ignore what society thinks I should do or how I should feel, I remember Aretha. She was proof that my life and my choices are up to me.

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