#taking them to the great canyon because they deserve to be happy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yurimother · 3 years

Text

The Best Yuri of 2020

2020 was hell in every way, and many of us are looking forward to new possibilities and advances in 2021. However, the year brought us many small moments and gifts worth celebrating. Among these, the explosive growth and change within the Yuri genre are among the most precious and most outstanding achievements. This second century of Yuri opened with a bang, as phenomenal new works, creators, and moments made their mark and helped change the future genre.

This annual list is a celebration of just a handful of the fantastic titles, people, and events in Yuri. There are likely some even greater ones that did not make the list because there is so much content in both English and Japanese that even I cannot keep up. However, among the troves of treasure, these titles stood out as shining examples of Yuri excellence. Some were released this year, others were recently adapted into English, and still, others are established titles that rose to prominence to dominate the conversation and my mind this year, but every one of them is worthy of being on this list and in your heart.

Here is the Best Yuri of 2020!

15: The Curse of Kudan Remastered

Japanese Yuri visual novel developers show no sign of slowing down as they continue to push to new heights and try new ideas. These are the same amazing people who brought us the delightful educational Yuri game The Expression Amrilato and the hilarious and surprisingly queer OshiRabu: Waifus Over Husbando’s. However, this most recent release, The Curse of Kudan Remastered, is their best work yet. Released near Halloween, this game brings a new edge of dark mystery and the occult to Yuri audiences worldwide.

The Curse of Kudan is available on MangaGamer, JAST USA, Denpasoft, and Sekai Project.

14: Adachi and Shimamura

English audiences were finally treated this year to Hitoma Iruma’s long-running and wildly successful Yuri light novel series, Adachi and Shimamura. Although the story struggles to gain traction, dedicated readers’ have their patience rewarded with a sweet tale full of gay pining. Alternatively, you can jump into its stellar anime adaptation, with gorgeous visuals and realized characters you will actually be willing to put up with the annoying Yashiro just to see where the title characters go. The series shows no sign of slowing down either, as the manga adaptation is coming to Western audiences next year.

Adachi and Shimamura is available to stream on Funimation. The light novel series is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3rTSZTK

Honorable Mention: Happy Go Lucky Days

The OVA adaptation of Fragtime got most of the attention this year. Still, director Takuya Satou and Pony Canyon also gave us this much-overlooked “love is love” anthology movie based on Takako Shimura’s manga (Sweet Blue Flowers, Wandering Son). The first short in the film, “Happy,” is easily the best Yuri anime of the year. It follows the beautiful yet realistic queer love story of two women hooking up at a mutual ex-girlfriend’s wedding, only for the relationship to blossom and warm viewers’ hearts. Sadly, while stylized, the budget demanded the animation cut a few too many corners. Additionally, the subsequent stories are at best tedious and at worst alarmingly problematic, which is why Happy Go Lucky Days only gets an honorable mention.

The OVA is streaming on HIDIVE

13: Mieri Hiranishi

The Yuri scene has many colorful creators with a breadth of different ideas and stories in the genre, yet few have provided as much humor and joy as Mieri. This talented creator spectacularly tumbled into the scene with her manga essay The Moment I Realized I Wasn’t Straight, which embodies the brutal honesty and realism of Nagata Kabi and matches it with exaggerated hilarity. She continues to chronicle her painful struggles of being a butch girl in love with butch girls in the monthly series The Girl that Can’t Get a Girlfriend. Alternatively, you can follow her on Twitter for just as much heart and laughter.

Read The Girl that Can’t get a Girlfriend on Tapas and Webtoon.

12: My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!

My Next Life as a Villainess has what can only be described as volcanic bisexual energy. Every character protagonist Catarina Claes encounters is entirely enthralled by her. Of course, she is far too preoccupied with her quest to avoid doom flags and change her ultimate fate to notice any romantic interest. The series is rewarding and well structured, as views are just as focused on how Catarina plans to avoid certain doom as they are with the various romantic misses her band of companions cooks up. While the “friendship ending” did not capitalize on its Yuri potential, it was perhaps the most satisfying possibility for this crazy harem, at least until season two comes out, which looks, unfortunately, to be significantly less queer.

My Next Life as a Villainess is streaming on Crunchyroll

11: Love Me for Who I Am

Kata Konayama’s manga series is less Yuri than a general LGBT work, but it has a lesbian character and explores her identity and struggles in great detail. Few titles before have captured the exciting and nervous waves of emotions that young people feel as they explore gender and sexual identities and try to find themselves. This heartfelt and extremely queer series rubberbands between cute moe dress up to tragic and gripping backstory, keeping readers on their toes the whole time.

Love me for Who I Am is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3rTSZTK

10: A Summer’s End – Hong Kong 1986

Oracle and Bone’s debut visual novel, A Summer’s End, is set in a vibrant and electric 1980’s Hong Kong. Drawing inspiration from classic Asian cinema, music, and fashion. The worlds of Michelle, a young office worker, and a free-spirited woman named Same collide. The two struggle to comprehend and accept each other’s feelings just as they struggle against society’s expectations and prejudices. An incredibly thoughtful and touching adventure, the creators incorporated vital contemporary elements include Asian LGBTQ rights and growing political unrest in Hong Kong, into this illustrious game.

The visual novel is available on Steam.

Honorable Mention: Goodbye, My Rose Garden

In the same vein as A Summer’s End, Goodbye, My Rose Garden is a beautiful period piece that incorporates LGBT views into its shattering narrative. The story follows a bright-eyed immigrant, Hanako, wanting to make a new life in England as an author at the dawn of the twentieth century. She takes a job as a maid to noblewoman Alice, but their relationship takes a turn when Alice asks Hanako to kill her. This poignant tale is beautiful and an honest depiction of love and its conflict with responsibility and society.

Goodbye, My Rose Garden is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/3hFSyaG

9: Shio Usui

Usui’s hit Shaikaijin Yuri manga Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon could easily take this spot even though it is not even out in English until February 2021. The manga is already making waves and receiving constant praise. The characters and their journey to discover love and self-acceptance are as charming as they are relatable and grounded. However, it is the creator, Usui, who really deserves acclaim. Not just for their work on Doughnuts, but having a second serialized story, Onna Tomodachi to Kekkon Shitemita, in monthly Yuri magazine Comic Yuri Hime simultaneously. It is even more remarkable when you consider these two iconic stories are Usui’s first long-running works, as they only contributed one-shots before.

8: Bloom Into You: Regarding Saeki Sayaka

Bloom Into You is possibly the most iconic Yuri series in the past decade, and while the manga deserves its own place on this list, the best thing to come out of the series as a whole is easily the light novels. This trilogy by Adachi and Shimamura creator Hitoma Iruma dives deep into supporting cast member Sayaka. Readers are treated to a delightful journey as she discovers her sexuality, experiences heartbreak, and finally finds herself breaking free and falling in love. With the help of gorgeous illustrations by Nakatani Nio herself, Iruma masterfully captures Sayaka’s unique voice and emotions in this wonderful series. Whether a fan of the originals or not, every Yurijin must check out Regarding Saeki Sayaka.

The light novel series is published by Seven Seas - https://amzn.to/3hFSyaG

7: Our Teachers are Dating

The best a Yuri can get. This workplace romance follows two teachers at the start of a new relationship taking nervous yet enthusiastic first steps, including saying I love you, going on their first date, and even sleeping together. It is so heartfelt and salacious that readers will squeal the whole time. Additionally, our heroines are supported in their relationship by everyone they know, their students, colleagues, and even the principal. It is a perfect world for these two lovebirds! Our Teachers are Dating would easily be number one or two in any other year, but the competition is fierce in 2020. So even though this is only number seven, it is still a master class Yuri manga.

The manga is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/38XY3O9

6: Amongst Us

Who would have thought that a comedy alternative universe story spinoff of a fantasy action series would be the single best Yuri webcomic this year? Shilin’s astounding artwork illustrations the hilarious and irresistible journey of girlfriends Blackbird and Veloce. These two eccentric young women get into all kinds of everyday mischief that bounces between tender and touching romance, completely outrageous comedy, and downright thirst-inducing sorcery. Seriously, you should buy the first volume for Veloce’s back muscles alone. The storyline skips between time, but both their established relationship and their meeting as teenagers are adorkable and captivating.

Amongst Us is available online free on Webtoon and the comic’s website. The first volume is in paperback on Shilin’s site.

Honorable Mention: Éclair

There are a lot of Yuri anthologies out there, and they have done some beautiful things. Many focus on themes like Syrup. Others collect a series of stories by an author into one bound work. However, out of all of them, Éclair is the most successful. ASCII Media Works took some of the genre’s most extraordinary creators and let them do whatever they wanted, and the results are spectacular. The incredible talent behind Éclair somehow packs a full volume’s worth of story and character into just a few pages with every chapter. While the first volume came overseas a few years ago, Yen Press gave Yurijin a gift this year by releasing the entire rest of the series in which readers can get lost.

The anthology series is published by Yen Press - https://amzn.to/38XY3O9

5: I’m in Love with the Villainess

A small trend of isekai Yuri with villainesses emerged recently, and I honestly had few hopes of I’m in Love with the Villainess. The series is pretty popular, but I often find that this does not denote quality, and with isekai having some institutional issues, I suspected this would fall flat. Then the volume three cover showcased an incredible accomplishment, allowing for a lesbian relationship to blossom into a family with children, and it blew me away. Finally, I read volume one and realized that the series has incredible character, some of the best world-building I have ever seen in a light novel, thoughtful discussions of inequality and societal issues, and most impressively, open and frank discussion of queer identity and life Yuri has ever seen! This one is something special.

The series is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/3nedvdZ

4: The Last of Us Part II

Yes, I know this one is not Yuri and that a portion of the population despises this game and will likely be exceptionally angry at me for including it. However, I maintain that it was an incredibly challenging masterpiece. Naughty Dog did not take the easy route out and delivered one of the most devastating media experiences I have ever seen. As I said in my article about the game, playing it changed me, and it sticks with me to this day. The Last of Us Part II earns its spot on this list because it pushed boundaries more with LGBTQ inclusion than any other AAA game. From brave inclusion of LGBTQ themes to queer characters and storylines at its center, the game changes gaming and it will never go back.

The Last of Us Part II is available on PlayStation 4

3: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

She-Ra feels like the culmination of all the LGBTQ progress western cartoons have made over the past few years. From The Legend of Korra to Steven Universe, young people are finally seeing more LGBTQ people represented on the small screen. This epic fantasy concluded with an amazing and powerful lesbian romance, delivering on its queer promise and revolutionized representation in a trope-defying crescendo.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power is streaming on Netflix

2: The Conditions of Paradise

The greatest single Yuri work of all in 2020 was the English release of Akiko Morishima’s breakthrough manga, The Conditions of Paradise. Initially released in 2007, this anthology detailed the love between adult women. It was in every way a manga ahead of its time, and seeing it finally get a small piece of the recognition it deserves overseas is a true gift. The fact that we can own this legendary piece of Yuri history and Morishima’s other anthologies is nothing short of a blessing from the Yuri goddess.

The Conditions of Paradise is published by Seven Seas Entertainment - https://amzn.to/38bh4xq

Honorable Mention: Otherside Picnic

This eerie sci-fi horror series combines the best of pulse-pounding thrillers, complex and intelligent hard science fiction, and exciting Yuri romance. Author Iori Miyazawa spends as much time crafting a well-paced and intriguing narrative about a mysterious world where occult creatures roam as he does establishing two believable and grounded heroes in Sorawo and Toriko. The romance between the two may be slow to start, but their chemistry is undeniable and as the stakes and story build, so too does their relationship. Not only are the light novels incredible, but the series’ manga adaptation is coming soon to the West as well as an upcoming TV anime in early 2021.

Otherside Picnic is streaming on Funimation. The light novels are published by J-Novel Club - https://amzn.to/3niiv1g

1. Yuri subgenres

For a long time, Yuri was not a genre of its own, but elements of romances or bonds between women found in other works. Now, thanks to an increasing library of works, the advent of social media, and a wider audience, Yuri is a genre on its own, with many creators telling different stories in different styles. However, 2020 saw the continued emergence of something extraordinary, subgenres. Yuri is now so vast, we can actually categorize the works within. Depending on their characters, like classic schoolgirl romances or spicy shakaijin office affairs, their world, such as fantasy or isekai series and thrilling science fiction adventures, and even other elements within. One of my personal favorites is the feminist Yuri that emerges from titles like Sexiled, where women celebrate the accomplishments of other women and dismantle power structures stacked against them. Now, no matter what kind of Yurijin you are, there is something for you to love.

I am happy to leave 2020 behind, but I bring with me a renewed love and admiration for Yuri. 2021 looks to be a somehow even better year for the genre, and I am thrilled to experience every minute of it that I can. Yuri has transformed into something far greater than I ever thought it would be, and let us all enjoy its evolution and expansion together in 2021.

#yuri #manga #anime #top 10 #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #girls love #gl #adachi and shimamura #otherside picnic #lists #2020 #happy new year #2021 #new year

2K notes · View notes

anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Text

welcome to the final show || h. styles

warnings: harry’s pov, breakup, swearing, angst, kind of written like a letter??

word count: 1.4k

summary: harry’s still not over your breakup...

What they don’t tell you about a breakup, is the painful reminders littered throughout the streets that they were once yours. Always the little things that send heart-wrenching shocks through your veins every time you see them.

That happened to me the other day, love. I don’t know why I still call you that; I haven’t seen you in months. But it still hurts. God, it hurts so much. I haven’t walked the scenic route home from the studio in a while, but I did the other day. And I walked past that little fruit market you used to like. If I’m honest, I forgot it was there. I stopped to buy some apples (green, just how you like) and Arthur asked how you are. You haven’t been in months, he said. Is it as painful for you as it was for me? I wanted to tell him that you were great, that we were going to order food that night instead of cooking. But I couldn’t. I had to tell him that we weren’t together anymore.

I wrote a song about you today. It made Ny cry. She said she misses your spontaneous drop ins, telling us all to take a break and eat the lunch you’d bought. And I hate to say so, but I miss it too. I miss you. God, I’m so overworked. I wake up, write songs about how miserable I am, go to the studio to toy around with the instruments, come home, maybe cook but I’ll probably just order something, write some more about how lonely I am. I doubt I’ll ever release the song. It’s for you and me, love. Just us. I hope you hear it one day.

Sometimes I order what you’d have, just so I can pretend that you still live in my house. I dish it up and put on your favourite tv show - I think I’ve watched it through three or four times since you left. The ending always gets me. It’s always the endings, isn’t it? Nothing seems to end happily. I just want to feel like you’re still around. The shower looks empty without all of your fancy shampoos and your exotically scented products. I never understood why you needed so many, but they always made you smell incredible. I bought some of your vanilla milk and papaya stuff last week, just to remember how you smell.

Do you know what I think I miss most? I miss waking up beside you. I still reach out for you in the mornings, like a reflex. But you’re never there and I don’t know why it stills upsets me when I discover that you’re so. It’s been months. It’s been months and it still upsets me. I pray that one day I’ll wake up and feel your head on my chest, your body tucked beneath my arm.

I saw your sister last month, she probably told you. She said you hadn’t mentioned me in a while. I’d asked about you, of course I had. Is it true you haven’t mentioned me? Are you over it? Over us? Because I’m not. I just wish I could still hold you. Still whisper things in your ear. Still crack all those inside jokes we share.

That’s another thing: I find myself in so many situations that are just perfect to crack a joke that only you would understand. But you’re not here anymore and nobody else would get it.

I just always pictured us together until the end. But I never pictured it would be this kind of end. I wanted us to grow old and wrinkled together, have kids together. God, imagine how great it would be if we raised kids. You’d stress over the smallest things, as you always do. But they’d be so perfect, I just know they would.

I went home two weeks ago, just for a moment to collect myself. I needed a break from all the writing and producing and nonstop torture of having to listen to all of my songs I wrote about you. I caught Mum and Gemma talking about you in the kitchen. They played it off as if they weren’t, for my own sake no doubt, but I heard them. Something about how weird it felt to have me home without you. And I realised that’s why I’d felt off the entire time I’d been there: you weren’t with me. It was the first time I’d visited since our breakup and it didn’t feel right. You were always meant to be with me. You were always meant to be by my side.

I got a text from Niall. He said he was ‘sorry for the split, mate’. He’d always wanted to meet you, we just never got the chance. It probably never would have been able to happen; the press would get wind of Niall meeting you and all of a sudden there’d be all sorts of rumours of a reunion. You would have liked him, I’m sure. I didn’t expect him to text, I didn’t expect anybody to text. But he did. He even offered to call, just to make sure I was okay. So, I did. I phoned Niall - it’d been so long since I’d heard his voice coming out of my phone - and we caught up. It was nice. It took my mind off of you for a half hour or so. I needed it, most definitely.

I want to write a happy song. Something with heart-warming lyrics and an upbeat melody. Like Canyon Moon, that was always your favourite. But I can’t. God, I’m fucking trying. I’m really trying. But every thought I have that I put onto paper is such a selfish, miserable one. It just makes the entire thing even more gruelling. It’s times like those that I really wish you were still in my life somehow. It wouldn’t even need to be in any sort of romantic way. I just want you.

You’re everywhere, love. And that’s the thing they don’t tell you about a breakup: no matter where you go, no matter how far you run, they’ll always be there. Tiny, seemingly insignificant things bring back these simply marvellous memories I forgot I had.

I need to stop calling you that, don’t I? ‘Love’, it’s not exactly fitting for you’re not my love anymore, are you? I wish you were. I wish you could see it how I see it. Feel it how I feel it. You’re woven into my DNA. You’ll always be here and it fucking kills me to know that I’m not woven into yours.

I want to know what you’re doing now, how you are. Are you well? I hope so. Because as much as it destroys me to see you happy without me, I know you deserve it. And I do want you to be happy, love. With or without me. I was making you unhappy. And that’s why you needed to leave, and I understand that now and I accept it. At the time, I thought you were making me unhappy too. I thought we were just slowly sinking each other. But you swam to the top, didn’t you? You broke through the water and you can breathe again. But, I was just dragging you under the entire time. It was actually when you left, when you swam to the surface, that I realised I needed you to save myself. It was like I hadn’t learnt to swim yet and I was relying on you to keep me afloat. And you were; you always were. I dragged you down and now I’m stuck on the seafloor. I’m so far under I don’t know if anybody would even dare swim this deep to save me.

I just pray, for that’s all I can do, that you realise one day that maybe we could help one another stay afloat. I hope I see your face soon, and you’ll reach down and take my hand and drag me back up to the surface. I want to feel the fresh air on my face again. And I want you to be with me when I do. Because, I realise now, that I’m still in love with you.

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry x reader #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

319 notes · View notes

trainthief · 4 years

Note

hey i'm one of those aforementioned "only-heard-blake-shelton" people - do you have any recs for better country music? i like finding new music but country is hard cause i don't really know where to start

I think the best way to explore any genre is to abandon the feeling that you’re obligated to develop an academic-level base of knowledge in the different foundations and aspects of it. If that’s something that actually interests you then by all means go for it, but despite how pretentious and rude people can get about music, it is at its heart just a form of expression - and while knowing which specific sounds might have influenced others can enhance the listening experience for some people, it’s not like there’s a prerequisite course load you need to take before you can start telling people you like country music at parties.

Anyway, that point aside, here’s some basics: country itself is a really broad concept, and was initially defined more by its ideology and source than any specific structural musical qualities that it tended toward (although its creation was most heavily influenced by Irish, Mexican, and African musical traditions). The common use of instruments like guitars, banjos, and fiddles is more to do with the ease of accessibility and portability for poorer Americans of the late 1800s, who - especially in the West - tended to be at least somewhat nomadic. Thematically speaking, it was most often centered around the experiences of blue-collar workers, including but not limited to cowboys. Subsequently, it has suffered under the combined efforts of corporations and politicians to market a parody of rural America’s own culture right back at them, and that’s why - especially if you’re only in your 20’s or younger - it’s very possible your knowledge of it is defined by commercialized Bro Country (which in my opinion is almost always antithetical to the actual spirit of country music itself, and also from a musical perspective tends to be uninteresting bullshit).

As far as subgenres go, the ideas quickly become so vague that it’s really up to the listener to decide how they want to categorize their music. Region and era can influence sound quite a bit, so that’s one way. Subject matter is another. Actual musical structure is a further one. I’m not going to bother and try to give you a comprehensive idea of all the options, because that’s impossible to do in anything shorter than an essay. Instead I’ll just fill you in on some of my favorites, and some song suggestions to go with them:

Country Music You’ve Been Listening to This Whole Time Without Knowing It: this is an easy one to start with. Lots of folk music is also country music, whether you were aware of it or not. James Taylor, John Prine, John Denver, Bob Dylan…. You’ve been here this whole time.

Outlaw Country: Tends to be either dark or mournful, but regardless it’s dramatic and fun. Usually framed around some fictional crime the singer has committed, which they have either been sentenced for or are on the run from. Good examples are Kate McCannon by Colter Wall, Mama Tried by Merle Haggard, Late July by Shakey Graves, Gallows Pole by Willie Watson, and Hell’s Canyon by Lost Dog Street Band

Spirituals: I’m definitely not going to tell you how to feel about religion itself - but given that music has been such a deeply rooted part of spiritual expression for as long as we’ve recorded history, and has very often evolved in tandem with or in response to religious movements, I think you’re really cutting yourself off from some good tunes if you try to ignore it entirely. Johnny Cash’s later stuff, especially, has the same dark overtones of his earlier Outlaw music but with the addition of gospel stylings and a religious severity that comes together in a way that’s honestly just straight up sexy to listen to. Ain’t No Grave and Redemption Day are probably the best two examples of this. On the other side, there’s the simplistic and heartfelt kind of spiritual country found in stuff like Hank Williams’ I Saw the Light, or I’ll Fly Away as performed by Gillian Welch, which I find really moving.

Honky Tonk: On the subject of Hank Williams, honky tonk is really fun music, and I deeply resent the fact that it’s been incorporated into the classist caricature of rural stupidity. At its heart, honky tonk was just designed to be a good time, and the vocal techniques it employs are actually really difficult to master, so it deserves a lot more respect. Hank Williams, in particular, also tends to use it to get right at the heart of subjects I really enjoy (although don’t confuse him with his son Hank Williams Jr, who writes Bro Country and unfortunately seems to be a terrible person). Anyway, Mind Your Own Business is one of his (and one of my favorite personal anthems), and Wealth Won’t Save Your Soul is a powerful one too. Regarding more modern honky tonk, my favorite up-and-coming musician is named Nick Shoulders, and I’d recommend his songs Rather Low and Snakes and Waterfalls.

Nice Comfortable Country Music Sung By Ladies: this is definitely a genre specific to just me, but it’s a type of music I grew up listening to a lot as a kid and I really love it. Like the title says, it’s just country songs by various very talented women who make you feel like you’re warm and at home. I Have a Need for Solitude by the great Mary Chapin Carpenter, Across the Great Divide by Nanci Griffith, Traveling Alone by Tift Merritt, Angel from Montgomery by Bonnie Raitt, Hammer and a Nail by The Indigo Girls

Poor Boy Blues: again, not a definitive stylistic subgenre so much as it is an opportunity to show off a few different songs of a few different styles that all follow a common and relatable theme, specifically one that is important to the overall genre itself. Dead End Street by Blake Mills, Crop Comes In by Chatham County Line, Thirteen Silver Dollars by Colter Wall, My Rifle My Pony and Me by Dean Martin, Cowpoke by Dave Stamey, Automobile by KALEO

Love And Heartbreak: have you really lived if you haven’t rocked out to Cowboy Take Me Away by the Dixie Chicks? No, you haven’t. You’ll also be happy to hear that I recall a poll that listed Cowboy Take Me Away as being the number one song every cowboy will sing along to on full blast whenever he’s alone. Anyway, there’s also Buddy by Willie Nelson, Crossing Muddy Waters by John Hiatt, Morning by Jim Ed Brown, Every Time I Hear That Song by Brandi Carlile, Gentle on My Mind by Glen Campbell, Kathleen by Townes Van Zandt.

Experimental: if you’d like to get a little weird with it, I’d recommend The Gold is Deep by The Dead Tongues (which uses some really ambient reverb and a small church organ for a more psychedelic sound), or Familiarity by The Punch Brothers (which compositionally borrows a lot from modern classical chamber music with its rhythmic systems and pacing).

There’s lots more we could get into here, like bluegrass, slow dancing music, spaghetti western soundtracks, and the fact that not all country pop-rock is bad, but I’ll stop myself here…. If you’re looking for a more general source for a lot of country all at once, here’s my favorite of my country playlists. Hope that was helpful!

220 notes · View notes

zutaraangsupremacy · 4 years

Text

Fanfic about Zuko and Iroh during his banishment years

Iroh leaves with him, obviously. He doesn't have to but he does because he loves his nephew and understands that this kid is going to die if he doesn't

He gets his most trusted war buddies to accompany them. They're apprehensive but they like Iroh and they trust him so they come with him

Some servants from the palace come because they've been with zuko since he was little and have taken care of him and they don't want to see him off. They weren't prepared for it to be like this or this soon

These war buddies begin questioning the sanity of their fire lord. Like, zuko deserved a punishment of some kind, but this is crazy

But no one can voice that without upsetting Zuko. He 100% believes he deserves this. There's no getting to him

Iroh knows this is a wild goose chase, so he does everything he can to go on little side quests that are just meant to be fun bonding moments

Like going to a hole in the wall earth kingdom restaurant he likes in some shabby coastal town ("I know the owner and his wife. They're lovely people." "This place is filthy." "Not filthy, loved. Used by people." "It's a mess.")

(turns out the current owners are not the same ones he knew, they get chased out for being fire nation)

They go to all the same places the gaang will eventually travel

"Ah, the Great Divide! It's the largest canyon in all the earth kingdom. It will take a two days and one night to cross." "Unless the Avatar's in there, I'm not interested." "We still have to cross nephew." "This is ridiculous"

Zuko gradually begins doing more to help out on the boat. At first no one expected him too because of his injury (they spend a lot of time reminding him to lay down and rest or else he won't heal properly) but then he's good enough to walk around and then he's good enough to train

He's a prince and he's not used to doing stuff like chores. At first hes a spoiled lil shit and refuses to help do anything, but then he starts feeling guilty

His mom wasn't royalty growing up and she always helped out the servants with cleaning up after herself and after her kids

His mom wouldn't want him to sit around be and so callous to people who willingly banished themselves alongside him and are actively trying to help him

So he goes up to the helmsman and asks if there's anything he can do to help

Iroh is so proud of him

Zuko learns how to do basic shit like washing the dishes and tying knots and steering a ship

He makes a lot of mistakes but he's transparent about it, and he doesn't put the blame on others because he's a good leader

Iroh contacts the white lotus. He has an idea of what they can do to depose the fire lord if only they're ever given the opportunity

Lots of flashbacks to Lu Ten, who was not a good leader, but a good person. Family was most important to him, even if he likes parties and girls. And he was brave. He was a good soldier though and a talented fire bender

And zuko feels really guilty because though he was sad that Lu Ten died he was super excited about being the new crown prince, to the point where it overshadowed his grief

Especially since if Lu Ten was somehow still alive, he wouldn't jumped into the Agni Kai without hesitation. He would've lost sure, but he could never just sit there and watch something like that happen. He believed in fair fights, not scare tactics

Plus he loved his lil cousins and would do anything for them, even if he would exclude azula from things because it was "boy stuff" (ie, azula actually had friends and zuko didn't, and he didn't want zuko to get lonely)

Meanwhile Iroh is also feeling super guilty because the one time he should've stepped in to defend zuko, the one time it mattered most, he didn't and know he has to make up for that

More weird side quests. They go to defend a small village from pirates because Zuko couldn't stand to see them get hurt. He told himself it was because the pirates had fire nation weapons and he needed to take them away because what if they fall into the wrong hands?

They kidnap guru pathik and Iroh and him have a long talk about life and it's meaning, even after Zuko has beat the shit out of him because he thought he was the Avatar

But pathik can let it go. He understands. He leaves peacefully

The crew all becomes Zuko's adopted dad's, even if he doesn't acknowledge it

They all take turns keeping watch over the deck at night because Zuko is young and volatile and they don't know what he might do

They fight off a serpent attacking some fishermen even though it wrecks their ship and they're stuck in some coastal village while they do repairs and are shunned by everyone

Iroh has a bad gambling problem and zuko is not fucking having it ™

Iroh calls him his "sweet prince" and pinches his cheeks. All. The. Fucking. Time. And it's super embarrassing

he likes the affection tho

But also zuko is still the worst ™ and super bratty. He just wants to be left alone doesn't want help doesn't need advice

He loses his temper frequently for small things

The crew feels like Iroh doesn't discipline him enough but they don't understand that zuko gets visibly frightened when people even just raise their voices near him and how sensitive he is and—

Iroh makes a lot of excuses for the way he spoils his nephew. He knows it won't help him in the long run but he'd do literally anything to make him happy

He buys him all sorts of gifts: swords, scripts, scrolls on bending forms, lil knick knacks and zuko doesn't really want any of it at all but Iroh doesn't give up. He gets it. Gets why he's so impossibly unhappy and angry and moody.

He's still a good leader tho. Still throws himself into any fight and it hurts Iroh because that's just what lu ten would do if he were here now

Also he's terrified of Zuko getting hurt, ever. There's times where he can't sleep because all he hears are his nephews terrified, heartbreaking screams and he knows damn well that if he ever sees his little brother again, he will kill him, without hesitation (even though he's sworn off violence unless absolutely necessary)

(and then all he can think about is what was lu ten doing in his final moments? Did he know Iroh loved him?)

They're a big dysfunctional family built around this one traumatized lil kid who acts all big and tough but also animal cruelty legitimately makes him cry like actual tears

Like he SOBS man he fucking loses it

Zuko's all angsty about missing Mai and the crews all trying to give him really terrible love advice

Just like. I need this. I need Iroh & zuko content in my life

#long post #i got carried away #atla #atla iroh #iroh #uncle iroh #atla zuko #zuko #headcanon #fanfic ideas #lu ten #lu ten atla #avatar the last airbender #can yall tell im passionate about this shit?#& have given it way too much thought #zuko and iroh remind me of my godfather and i #because im a fucking zuko kinnie

78 notes · View notes

atc74 · 4 years

Text

Hi, Again

Warnings: Fluff, angst (if you squint), Jensen being smooth, but the reader being smoother...

Summary: Jensen arrives to pick Y/N up for their date. She surely expected a fancy restaurant with overpriced tiny portions, but what she gets is something entirely different.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1610

Written for: @evansrogerskitten

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, my enabler for life

A/N: This is the long awaited sequel to Hi (read this first!), which was written as a request for @evansrogerskitten for a follower contest. This is a very special birthday gift, for a very special lady and very special friend. HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASH! I hope you have an amazing day! I love you lady!

As a reminder, this is a work of fiction and should be regarded as such. No harm is intended toward the actor(s) or their families.

Like Jensen’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Previously in “Hi”

A tall gentleman in a black suit approached me with a sign that had my name on it. “Miss Y/N? I’m Philip and I will be your driver tonight. Please, follow me.” He led me to a large black SUV and held the back door open. When I looked up, the first thing I saw was Jensen’s face smiling at me. He held his hand out for me and smiled as I stepped inside, sliding into the seat next to him.

“Hi.”

Now...

“Hi,” I smiled back, my hand still in his.

“Hi,” Jensen said. “And, I already said that. I’m sorry, I’m a little nervous, if you couldn’t tell.”

I laughed. I was sitting with Jensen Ackles in the back of a black SUV with heavily tinted windows in Vegas, after a Supernatural convention. Then I realized I was laughing and attempted to pull myself together. “Jensen, I’m sorry. That was rude. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing at this. It’s all a little surreal for me. What am I doing here?”

“What I said to you during the photo was the truth. For nearly a year, I have looked at every woman with even the slightest hint of red hair, just waiting for you to come through the line again, but it was never you. I had finally convinced myself I would never see you again, and then you were there, right in front of me. It was coincidence that brought you through my photos in Seattle, but I think it was serendipity that brought us together today.” Jensen clamped his mouth shut when he realized he was rambling.

“Serendipity?” I giggled, a hand over my mouth. “I’m sorry. It’s just not a word one hears in everyday conversation. Then again, this isn’t every day, is it?”

“But I feel it just...it fits,” Jensen chuckled, shrugging. “Even if it does sound a bit silly. I’m sorry if I caught you off guard. I don’t do this, like ever. But, I think Jared was sick of listening to me go on and on about you and he made me promise to ask you out if I ever saw you again. So you are here for two reasons; one, because I am a man of my word and two, you said yes.”

“I’d be a fool to say no. Or, I might be a fool for saying yes,” I said quietly, turning to look out the window at the desert flying by.

A warm hand landed on my arm and I turned back, regarding Jensen’s touch on my heated skin. “I don’t think you’re a fool. I think you’re brave for taking a chance like this. On me.”

I’d seen plenty of interviews and convention footage, but this might be the first time I’ve witnessed Jensen channel Dean Winchester. It was no secret that he’d been single for some time now, but at this very moment, he didn’t think he deserved a chance.

“Don’t do that, Jensen. Let’s have dinner and play it by ear. Who knows, by the end of the night, you might be changing your mind,” I winked, laying my hand over his.

“You’re wrong, but I think that sounds like a solid plan. We’re almost there,” he smiled, looking out the window.

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying desperately to figure out where we were. I didn’t think Jensen was a serial killer, but we were out in the middle of the desert.

“It’s a surprise, okay? Just a little bit longer, Y/N,” Jensen replied.

“You’re not taking me out to the desert to kill me, are you? I’ve watched enough television to know what happens out here at night,” I giggled nervously.

“Now that you’ve figured out my plan, I might as well get on with it,” Jensen scoffed, pulling my hand towards him quickly.

I was startled but the only sound I managed was a tiny squeak. I looked up and was met with the kindest smile and prettiest green eyes. His touch traveled the length of my arm until our fingers were entwined. He raised our joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand.

“It was indeed my plan to kill you...with kindness, and wow you with a really romantic dinner. Is that not okay with you?” And there it was, the patented Dean Winchester smirk, followed by a wink.

“Oh my god! I’m sorry! I’m ruining it!” I covered my face with my free hand, shaking my head. I took a deep breath before daring to meet his eyes. “That is actually really sweet and sounds like a great idea.”

“Awesome.”

We came to a stop, but as I reached for the door, Jensen stopped me, his hand still holding mine. “Just a few minutes longer. I’ll be right back. Please don’t get out. Or peek.” The look on his face told me he was serious, but there was an underlying twinkle in those green eyes, and I found myself nodding my promise to stay put.

As Jensen and Philip exited the vehicle, I took the opportunity to calm my nerves. I gave myself a quick pep talk and tried to remember what the volunteer had told me, more than once. “Don’t be nervous; he is a nice handsome boy, but he is still just a person.”

“He’s just a man, Y/N. This is just a date. You can do this. You are not going to f-” my pep talk was interrupted when my door swung open to reveal Jensen and his smiling, stupidly handsome face. My thoughts got the better of me. Yeah right. He’s just a man. He’s just the most beautiful human ever created.

“Ready?”

“I’m ready.”

Jensen took my hand once more in his, helping me step down from the vehicle. He placed both his hands on my shoulders, looked into my eyes and I was mesmerized. “Do you trust me?”

I don’t know why, but I did. I had absolutely no reason to trust this man, but I did. “I trust you, Jensen.”

He smiled wider than the Grand Canyon and turned my body away from him. It was then that I felt his hands covering my eyes. “No peeking, Y/N.”

We walked several feet, me shuffling carefully in front of him until he slowed his pace and I felt his hands slip from my eyes. “Keep your eyes closed for me, sugar.”

My skin tingled from his touch, my heart from his endearment. I nodded, feeling him slide around my body. “We’re going to sit down, right here. I got you, easy now.”

My body lowered to the ground, something soft covering it, a blanket maybe? “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking and taking in the surrounding area. It was breathtaking, and I stared in silence at the scene before me. We were sitting on a mountain side, high above the desert plains, and looking down at the Hoover Dam. It was lit up from the base in a cool blue light. With Lake Mead an inky midnight blue behind it, I’d never seen it look more beautiful, more ethereal.

“This is remarkable, Jensen.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’m also hoping that this doesn’t outshine the rest of the evening I have planned,” he chuckled slightly, reaching behind him and revealing a honest to goodness picnic basket.

“Look at you, playing the romantic-picnic-overlooking-a-national-landmark-card,” I mentioned casually.

“Is it working?” Jensen winked. There was enough moonlight to see each other as it highlighted Black Canyon and the Colorado River below us.

“Hmmmm,” I coyly toyed with him, tapping my index finger against my lips. “Whatchya got in there?”

“Oh do I have stuff,” Jensen announced excitedly as he opened the basket, laying everything out in front of us. “We have a taco buffet with all the fixings, like five different types of salsa, chips, fresh guacamole and, wait for it...a pitcher of margaritas!”

“How did you do all this?” I was stunned. “And, have you been spying on me? Who told you I love Mexican?”

“I knew it!” Jensen pumped his fist victoriously. “Really it was a long shot, but I was craving Mexican and thought, what psycho doesn’t love tacos?”

“Holy crap! You just quoted Dean Winchester, but swapped waffles for tacos!” I laughed so hard I think I may have snorted.

“That was honestly the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jensen laughed, pulling me into his arms.

We had a peaceful dinner overlooking the dam and the surrounding mountains, playing twenty questions about our lives. Jensen reached into the basket and pulled out yet another container. “And the piece de resistance.”

“Did you bring chocolate cake?” I eyed the decadence filled container with lustful eyes.

“Damn girl. Forget the way Dean Winchester looks at pie. I want you to look at me like you’re eying up this cake!” Jensen laughed, pulling the cover off and waving it in front of my mouth.

“Jensen, do not tease me. I will eat that with my fingers!” I warned him, but he didn’t give up. I reached up with two fingers, dipping into the cake and sliding them into my mouth, feeling bold.

“Holy shit.” He murmured, almost indiscernible over the sounds I was making. I noticed he seemed uncomfortable, but he teased me with cake, I could tease him back. I dipped my fingers back into the cake and held them in front of Jensen’s mouth. He took the bait. He grabbed my wrist with one large hand and halted my movements. His tongue snaked out, licking a bit of the sweet dessert from my fingers, before he dipped his head, sucking both of my fingers into his mouth.

The sounds coming from his mouth were purely pornographic, to say the least. I felt my nether regions tingle at the sight and sounds of Jensen Ackles licking chocolate cake from my fingers. Feeling even bolder, I leaned in, licking the rements from his lower lip. “Fuck, that’s delicious.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, sugar.”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid @manawhaat @crashdevlin @thoughtslikeaminefield @emoryhemsworth @imaginationisgrowth

Jensen’s Jamboree: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @adoptdontshoppets @supernatural-jackles @fandom-princess-forevermore @akshi8278 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @deanwanddamons

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen #supernatural rpf #evansrogerskitten #for the birthday girl

125 notes · View notes

wrentheworldsatstake · 4 years

Text

Part 1 of 5+1 Stucky learn about the LGBTQ+ Community,

Warnings: Steve has some deeply internal homophobia, and uses some unsavory language to refer to himself+ Steve recalls a murder of a gay neighbor that traumatized him, I essentially projected my religious trauma on him darlings, so it gets angsty.

2k+

1) Steve Rogers was enjoying his countrywide road trip. His favorite things were to visit scenery that he dreamed of seeing with Bucky way back when. His second favorite things were the small shops that reminded him so much of the small businesses back home. It was still hard to buy things, even with Tony funding his trip with more money he’d ever seen, but Steve knew supporting these shops would keep them around, and Steve needed a slice of home.

Steve had motorcycled all the way to Arizona. This is the last stop on his trip, and probably the most painful. Bucky always dreamed of seeing the Grand Canyon, it was one of those dreams that were tossed back and forth if they somehow became millionaires.

Steve remembers that winter that felt colder than the rest. Not much, he was delirious for most of it (according to Bucky after the fact he had his last rites done? Something he has no memory of but to be fair there was a reason he was having his last rites done). That isn’t important, what he remembered was Bucky crying, something he’d never seen before. He remembered Bucky telling him if he made it out of it, they’d see the grand canyon together.

Steve misses Bucky, in ways he knows he shouldn’t. He remembers Robert, the son of the baker that made the good bread. He remembers he was seen kissing a boy, and he remembered Robert ending up dead. Homosexual Killed by Crowd, was in the papers. He remembered that he went to mass with his mother and the sermon that day.The priest called it justice, he called Robert (poor sweet Robert, who snuck his mom a loaf of bread when Steve’s dad died), filthy and depraved, and deserved to be murdered. He remembered the baker at the mass, nodding,crying yes, but nodding. Every time he tried to get bread there from then on it tasted like sawdust.

Steve remembered when the boys (Bucky’s friends really, but when they were mean to him, Bucky chose Steve instead), were talking about Mary. And how her assets were nice and big. They described how attractive she was and Steve didn’t see it. He saw that in Bucky, brave, beautiful Bucky, and that scared him. Made him feel colder than any winter they ran out of kindling.

So there was Steve, staring at the canyon. His heart was shaking in ways that made him worried the serum stopped working. He had a slip of paper, a napkin from a diner with an image of Bucky sketched on it. He held it up so “Bucky” was seeing the canyon.

“Buck, it’s the grand canyon. Buck isn’t it beautiful...”

Steve hoped in heaven Bucky was looking down at him. Steve hoped Bucky was happy up there. Steve hoped that Buck still loved him, even though he ought to know Steve’s proclivities up there. Most of all, Steve hoped that he could make it to heaven, to see Bucky again, even though he was a queer, hoped God made an exception, that maybe if he prayed enough that god could forgive him.

It took a while for Steve to pull himself together. He wasn’t crying- per se, but some tears slipped out. He hiked all the way to a gift shop a couple of miles away from where he-. Well he walked a couple of miles to a gift shop. He had bought gifts for the whole team, except Natasha. Tony and Clint were easy, they both would appreciate a gag gift, so he got Tony a figurine of iron man that made him giggle in the store, with a face painted literally primary color yellow, lopsided eyes, and armor that was pretty much three red blocks stacked on each other. For Clint he got him a bag of birdseed, and he wrote Property of Hawkeye in purple marker on it. (He asked Tony on his phone (after spending twenty minutes reading an operating manual meant for senior citizens) if that’d be funny, and Tony apparently called “dibs” [whatever that meant] on him for a “prank war”).

Thor and Bruce were a little harder, but he got advice from Natasha on what they may like. With Thor he bought food he’d never tried before, so they could try modern cuisine together. With recommendations from Tony, he got Oreos, Twinkies, “Seaweed” (which he had thought was an aquatic plant??), Tater Tots, Doritos, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, and he did want to try some other things (like sushi? Or pineapple?) but Tony told him it would spoil on the way back. For Bruce, Natasha told him he drank a lot of tea, that it worked with calming him down. So Steve bought tea grown from places he visited. He got some from California called “Golden Feather Tea,” which sounded something Bruce would really like. He also found some from Florida, Alabama, and Georgia.

Everyone had a gift, but Natasha. He wanted to get a gift that Peggy might like, because well… they reminded him of each other. He didn’t want to get anything that may imply he wanted to court her for, so flowers, jewelry, candies, cigarettes (which actually are bad for you? They make asthma worse? Which is pretty disturbing considering how many he smoked when his asthma was bad) or gum. Knowing what he did about Natasha she probably wouldn’t enjoy any of that anyway.

Inside the shop there were a lot of stickers, license plates, and keychains. He also noticed some mid-sized flags he didn’t recognize. Well he recognized one, Natasha had one inside a potted plant. It was pink and orange and white, and he thinks it may be a country flag? He knows those changed some since he got back from the ice. Either way, it seems like a good gift for Natasha he guesses? I mean she already has a tiny one, maybe she’d like another? At least she’d award him for his observational skills.

Going to purchase the flag he noticed a little sign saying 10% of flag purchases will go to some charity called GLAAD. That’s great then! Charities are good. He goes to purchase the flag and put it in the trailer Tony rented for him. He originally decided to go by motorcycle, but when he tried to lug around souvenirs, or sleep in a hotel, he realized he much preferred a mini-house that he drove around than a hotel where his nightmares ended up waking up a baby and it’s parents.

---

Steve was in a good mood. Tony had offered him a room in the tower, which he was worried about originally, but it had so much thought and consideration inside of it he gave the man a bear hug. Tony had a radio on his dresser that Steve remembered having like it once. He had a station on it that played music he remembered throughout his lifetime. There were instructions for each appliance inside of the small kitchen under each appliance. There was “vintage” furniture throughout the apartment, a dresser he remembers his mother dreamed she could have. There were art supplies for him, and a room where he had skyline views and natural light (how Tony knew about his art, he has no idea). Finally he was close to the common room, and could either take the stairs or elevators there, so he was close to the team.

It was an apartment that he dreamed of sharing with Bucky. He could imagine teasing Bucky while he was making the soup for the week. He could imagine giggling and dancing to the radio songs together. He could imagine sharing the bed, holding- no Steve. Steve, that's bad.

---

The entire team was gathered in the common room. Steve had wrapped the gifts inside of newspaper, something he remembered doing with his mom, before kindling got low and they had to use the papers for heat. He handed Tony his first (it was the first one he bought after all). Tony eagerly unwrapped it, flinging paper at Clint, (who balled it up and threw it right back).

“Aww Capsicle ya shouldn’t have,” he said in an exaggerated girlish voice, “Such a gift ought to earn ya a smooch,” which made Steve back up. Did they know, know that he was a homosexual? If they did know, why would they bring it up? These sorts of things were kept shamefully hidden, (unless they were planning to hurt him, but he doesn’t think they will), they weren’t teased or advertised about. Tony stopped when he saw that Steve had backed up, face pale, and somehow the room became more tense.

He handed Clint his gift next. (More like dropped it in his lap, causing an oof to be forced out of Clint). Clint took his newspaper and balled it up and hit Tony, who was just about to tell him not to do that. He held the bag up, and stared at the writing. Natasha who sneaked a peak got a small laugh at the birdseed bag.

“Hey Birdman, do you need that in a feeder form? For when you’re feeling peckish”

Clint stared right into Tony’s eyes, opened the bag, took a handful and ate it.

“No Tony, I have thumbs,” he said after chewing (and grimacing) “so I can eat the birdseed with my hands, I can also do this”

��which Clint punctuated with throwing a handful of birdseed at Tony. Natasha rolled her eyes, hoisted up the bag, and said “idiots” almost endearingly? As she put the bag on a shelf by the television.

“Alright then… moving on” Steve said awkwardly. Steve couldn’t really wrap Thor’s gift, so he had it in a plastic bag

“So Thor, uh- we’re both new to the modern era, well you on earth- so I thought that, maybe we can try these foods together? I got a list from Tony and-”

“That would be wondrous shield brother Steven. To try the cuisine of midgard is one of my favorite joys, if they are as any good as those poptarts my friend Darcy introduced me to, we shall have a glorious feast” Thor said, which made Steve sigh in relief, he didn’t want to have made Thor upset (because Thor could crush him with his muscles, his really strong- stop thinking Steve!) Steve gave an awkward smile and moved onto Bruce.

“So Natasha said you enjoyed tea, so I got some from my travels, uh- I hope you like it, if you don’t then I can get you something else-”

“It’s great Steve, thank you,”

Steve sighed in relief, if the team didn’t like him, if they were going to hate him because of his sickness, then how exactly could he lead? He got off on a bad foot in the helicarrier, and things were so different now, and there are now words that were okay back then but, not now, he was being very careful to ensure he didn't offend anybody.

He saved Natasha’s gift for last. He handed it to her kind of sheepishly. Natasha opened it gingerly, and he could see an expression of surprise on her face, before she quickly schooled it to a neutral expression.

“Thank you Steve,” she eventually said.

“Hold it up Natasha! I can’t exactly see it from here,” Tony demanded. Natasha held up her flag, and showed it to the group.

“Wow Cap, you got Itsy Bitsy here a lesbian pride flag, way more progressive than I thought you’d be, I probably owe a bet to someone-” Tony said, sounding pleased.

“A lesbian…? I’m sorry that’s not a term I’m familiar with? I noticed she had a tiny one in a potted plant on her desk, is Natasha from Lebanon, I thought she was Russian? or was that a cover?” Steve said, with an expression of confusion.

“Oh- okay then well…” Tony said. The entire room felt like it dropped several degrees. “Well,” Tony said, “A lesbian is a term for a woman who loves women, the flag identifies them-”

“Oh! I’m so sorry Natasha!” Steve said hurriedly, thinking exactly how the nazis identified it, the whole room tensed, “I didn’t realize I’d give you a modern pink triangle equivalent, I had NO idea, I’m so sorry Natasha-”

“Oh no-” Bruce said “It’s a pride flag, it's something that lesbians like- they use it to show pride, it’s not something that is used to hurt people”

“Wait, So no one will hurt Natasha right? Not that anyone can, but this is a thing in the future, that Natasha won’t be hurt?” Steve said.

“No Steve. There’s laws against that now, you actually get prosecuted if you break them,” Natasha said, “I promise you Steve, I’ll be okay.”

“Wait what about the bible, I remember that it’s a sin under god right?” Steve said frantically, remembering the preacher's sermon, dead Robert, and the threat of hell he feared ever since he discovered he was attracted to Bucky, “I support your lifestyle Natasha, but I can’t, I don’t”

“Captain Steven if I may- there’s a website that goes over it, it’s like an online pamphlet or book, it goes over the bible, it gives evidence that the bible isn’t actually against homosexuality, I’ll pull it up for you tonight if you wish” Jarvis said, difusing all of the tension inside of Steve’s shoulders,

“So I won’t get sent to hell for my proclivities” Steve said, worriedly, trusting his team with something he’d hidden for so long.

“No Steve, it’s okay-” Bruce said, hand on his shoulder, “I promise Steve, there’s nothing wrong with you”

And somehow, that was okay, he was okay, even with Tony interrupting “So I’ve got a chance to tap that ass,” whatever that meant.

#stucky #starker #future-starker #LGBTQ+#Gay Steve Rogers #Lesbian Natasha Romanoff #first fic be nice!

20 notes · View notes

the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Text

A New Adventure - Pt. 8

Okay, y’all I know I been super absent on this piece. It’s not for lack of desire or care, I promise! It’s because when I started this, I was planning on using activities I did over this summer to inspire this, but then covid happened and I been stuck in my house all summer. K, excuses over. This one is extra fluffy with a side serving of even more fluff, so enjoy!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Silver Lingings

Things have been different between you and Arthur. Since you told him some of your insecurities and he comforted you, things have been better.

You’ve never been able to easily open up to people but with Arthur, it’s different. Perhaps it’s because he’s the first person who’s told you to your face that he cares.

Arthur has been warmer towards you. Not that he wasn’t before. But he’s even moreso.

One day you come home from the store. You’d offered him to come, but he said he wanted to stay home, take a shower maybe.

You haul in the few sacks of groceries, remembering the one that has the refill on Arthur’s meds.

You’ve been doing some research on TB lately, as a way to try and help Arthur in his recovery. It’s not pretty to know that even today, well over a million people die a year from the disease, and those who recover are permanently damaged, their lungs scarred. Not only that, they suffer bouts of symptoms even though they no longer have the disease. Along with those is the fact that their immune system is greatly damaged and they’re more prone to other infections.

The moment you walk in, you hear whistling. Is that Arthur? It makes you smile.

When you get into the kitchen, he walks over and takes the groceries from you. “Let me help ya, darlin’.”

You blush at his nickname for you. How can he be so terrifying in the ways you’ve seen and even made him be in the game, and yet so sweet? He’s a complicated man, and unpredictable in the best ways.

He continues to whistle as he helps you put things away, and then he grabs the boxes of meds. You hear him give a heavy sigh.

It’s no secret that these medications have kicked his ass nearly as well as the disease itself.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Yeah. Just… don’t like these things. But I guess they’re better than the alternative.”

“I know. But hey, you’re halfway through. Only three more months.”

Arthur turns to look at you and leans his back on the counter. “These medicines have side effects, right?”

“Course. Pretty much every medication does. Why? You having some?”

He rubs the back of his neck, not looking at you. “Yeah. A few. Kind of… embarrassin’ though.”

“Arthur, it’s fine. My mother’s a nurse. She’s been a nurse longer than I been alive. Trust me, after hearing the things she saw, none of it really phases me.”

Arthur grunts and then tells you in vague details some of the things he’s dealing with. Tingling in his hands and feet, occasional joint pain, and then he mentions in an embarrassed way about how his body fluids have been colored more orange.

“Those are common, Arthur. Unfortunately nothing we can really do for most of them. You haven’t been drinking alcohol, have you?”

He grunts that he’s had a couple beers a week.

“Well, no more. That’s one reason why your body fluids have been discolored. It’s your liver doing it. And for your joint pain? That can be fixed with tylenol.”

After a few seconds, you add “You’ve been coughing less.”

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Been havin’ less pain in my lungs too.”

You can tell he’s a little put out by the discussion of his medical problems.

“Arthur, let’s do something fun this week. Even though covid is still strong, some places are starting to open up. We just have to reserve a spot ahead of time.”

“How do you do that?” he asks.

“Easy. Just by tickets on the internet.”

He grunts again and looks out the window. The internet, well, most electronic technology baffles him. You once caught him trying to literally pop your phone open to see what was inside. He’s been more gentle since you explained phones don’t open up unless you destroy them.

“Maybe. But… ain’t there places we can go we don’t have to reserve a place?”

“Sure,” you say. “There’s plenty of lakes and trails we can go on.”

He immediately perks up when you say that.

“Can we go to one of them places today?”

“Sure,” you say. “I know a nice little place.”

An hour later, you’re driving up one of the many canyons towards a place called Silver Lake near Brighton Ski Resort.

Arthur’s a bit baffled by your explanation of skiing. Even though you’ve lived in Utah your whole life (which reportedly has the greatest snow on earth) you’ve never been skiing or snowboarding. But you do your best to explain them.

Arthur’s mood greatly improves the further in the canyon you get. He loves how wild it is, even this close to the city. And the quiet. He loves it all.

You laugh when he gets particularly excited about seeing a moose cow standing in the marshes of a beaver’s pond, a heron sauntering nearby.

Because you know how unusual it is to see a moose, you pull over and roll down the windows so he can see.

The smell coming from the forest is intoxicating.

The drive to the lake is nearly an hour, and by the time you finally get there, Arthur’s smiling. It’s rather contagious.

However you have to catch yourself when you see how happy he is. It just makes him all that much more handsome. You’ve been trying to be so careful not to fall for him.

The air is nice and cool up here, a relieving reprieve from the triple degree heat down in the city.

Arthur’s donned his leather hat and blue shirt for this walk. It looks great out here and even though there’s some people, no one will think anything of his outfit.

The hike around the lake is very easy and is a good hour walk if you take your time. Perfect for Arthur as it won’t irritate his lungs.

The path lies right against the shores of the lake, which is not any larger than lake Owanjilla in the game, and also quite shallow.

As you walk along the boardwalk on the marshy end of the lake, Arthur stops and looks over the railing. There, you can both easily see minnows hiding in the reeds.

Once you hit the trees, Arthur looks around. There’s no one around.

He shocks you by taking your hand in his and just holding it as you both walk. You can’t help but smile up at him.

At the halfway point of the lake, there is a bench on the trail. It has a great lookout on the lake and you can even see Mickey Mouse mountain, a curious mountain with a permanent bald spot that forms the shape of the famous mouse’s head.

You and Arthur sit on the bench and say nothing. There is nothing that needs to be said here at this moment. It’s so quiet and calm, to say anything would spoil it.

Arthur unleashes your hand, to which you feel sad about. You’d really been enjoying it.

Then he surprises you. He feins scratching the back of his neck and then his arm drapes along the back of the bench behind you.

It’s getting harder and harder to control yourself around him, and you find that you’re really not wanting to anymore.

With the encouragement of the solitude and Arthur’s arm draped behind you, it’s not long before you’re leaning into his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

Only seconds after you get into this position, you feel Arthur’s arm winding around you.

Is this real? Are you cuddling with Arthur Morgan? The Arthur Morgan?

It feels real, and it feels right.

Just as you’re beginning to truly appreciate the beauty of the lake and the forest, Arthur speaks up.

“I was afraid places like this wouldn’t be around anymore.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, in that city. It’s so big and loud and… unnatural. Mostly big though. I was beginning to think man had truly driven any kind of wildness out.”

“Well, we mostly have. But we also know the value of places like this. If we destroy them, we destroy ourselves.”

Arthur sighs and falls silent for a moment. When he speaks up again, he takes you off guard.

“Thank you, darlin’. For bringin’ me here. This is the best kind of medication.”

You look up at him and are about to say “you’re welcome” when you’re stopped by his smile, the light in his eyes. That’s one thing the game failed to do despite being so detailed and lifelike. It failed to capture how truly beautiful and alive his eyes are.

Just as you’re about to speak, Arthur closes the few inches between your faces and places his lips on yours.

To say your heart stops is an understatement. How long have you thought of doing this with him? Much longer than you’ve known him, that’s for sure.

His lips are better than you could have ever imagined. They’re not chapped (though that might be because you introduced him to chapstick), but warm and alive. Your hand leaves his knee and slides up his chest and to his neck.

His free hand does the same, gently settling on your back to bring you closer.

After a few seconds, Arthur pulls away. “Sorry, darlin’. That was… unwarranted.”

You blush and smile. “Arthur, did it feel like I didn’t want it?”

He smiles back. “Then… would you mind for a second?”

You answer him by bringing your lips right back to his. This one is more fervent, more sure.

It’s during this kiss you really begin to appreciate him, his body. How he feels, how he smells.

Though a lot of his wild scent has been tamed by your home, he still holds onto some of it. That hint of leather, gun powder, tobacco. It’s like it’s been ingrained into his very skin.

You don’t know it, but Arthur is appreciating the way you smell and feel too.

He’s longed to feel you pressed against him like this since not long after he first met you. Oh, how he wished to do something like this with you during that earthquake.

When he’d held you in his arms that night, oh it had felt so right, so pure. So good that he knew he didn’t deserve it.

But this. Kissing you, holding you, bathed in the shade and the perfume of the pines. It’s beyond perfect.

He doesn’t care that he thinks he’s too bad of a man for someone as good and kind as you. He just wants to revel in this moment.

You’re both still deep in the kiss when you hear voices approaching from down the trail, and some of them belong to children.

The two of you quickly break apart, but not before the man in the family sees you both smooching.

He gives you both a hearty wink while the mother looks rather disapproving as they pass.

You can’t help but smile as you blush, still nestled in Arthur’s arm.

He rubs your back soothingly while the family passes.

After a short while, the two of you decide it’s time to head back to the car and go home.

Arthur holds your hand every second, and even sometimes brings your hand to his lips.

Towards the end of the walk, the boardwalk allows people to walk out to nearly the center of the lake to either fish or look down into the water.

You and Arthur head down it, finding yourselves alone on the planks though people can be seen on the trail still.

Once there, Arthur takes you in his arms and kisses you again. This surprises you as you always took him to be a very private man who was not a fan of pdo.

However, he doesn’t seem to care in this moment. Neither do you, so you loop your arms around his neck and press yourself into the kiss.

Arthur chuckles when the kiss ends. “Sorry, had to do that. The sun hit your hair, made it so pretty. Just… had to kiss ya.”

You smile and kiss the tip of his nose. “You can kiss me any time you want, Mr. Morgan.”

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead fanfic #a new adventure #i'm awkward

25 notes · View notes

persephone-garnata · 3 years

Text

The Only Thing You Can Never Buy In Heaven

Just finished my first fanfic in more than two years!

Thank you, SPN finale :D

remembering this scene

It’s a wincest one-shot about our favourite co-dependent soulmates, with middlegame Sam/Eileen. It’s mostly canon-compliant, except for Miracle goes to Heaven too, and there’s the Samulet, because I love the Samulet.

Read it on AO3 here or below the cut:

The Only Thing You Can Never Buy In Heaven

Dean loved driving around in the Impala, Led Zeppelin blasting on the stereo – the sound much cleaner now, the acoustic guitar opening of Ramble On coming through as clear as a crisp spring day. Always his favorite song to drive to, along the endless highways of Heaven.

He visited with old friends – Bobby, obviously, his mom and dad, he went to the Roadhouse to catch up with Ellen, Jo, Ash and the rest. There were so many he knew who had died before him – hunters and civilians alike. But mostly, he just drove around – through countryside in all seasons, spring and summer and winter and fall, through mountains and deserts and cities and forests, along the shores of lakes and oceans. He stopped at countless roadside diners and ate countless plates of delicious food, without having to think about cholesterol once.

But there was always something missing – or rather, someone. Someone to tell him to think about cholesterol, even though he didn’t have to. Someone to sit shotgun, and keep him company on nights beneath the stars. He knew he wanted Sam to live a full life, to enjoy all those years he deserved – a career, a family, a house with a white picket fence. And after all, against the backdrop of eternity, what difference did a few decades make?

Enough difference, it turned out, to make him feel constantly like half of him was missing. Especially since there was one thing he couldn’t find, no matter how much he searched, no matter how many boxes he emptied out or pockets he rifled. You’d think that, in Heaven, you should be able to get hold of whatever the hell – or whatever the heaven – you wanted, but there seemed to be at least one exception to that. He found the replica and hung it from the rearview mirror, but it wasn’t the same.

‘Do you have idea where I can find my old necklace?’ he asked Bobby, one time when they were sitting on the porch together, drinking beers and shooting the breeze. Bobby gave him a slightly sad smile, and didn’t ask which one he meant. There could only be one.

‘Think Sam’s still got it,’ he said. ‘Back on Earth. You’ll just have to wait. Won’t seem like no time at all. Like I told you – he’ll be along.’

‘But –‘ Dean creased his brow - ‘Sam still has Baby, too, and yet there she is.’ He pointed at the car, sitting gleaming on the driveway. ‘And – I don’t know how this is supposed to work, I was never that good at all this stuff, but isn’t there loads of stuff in Heaven that’s on Earth too?’

‘Oh, you got that right,’ said Bobby. ‘There are exceptions to the rule, see? Cosmic special cases. And that necklace is one of them. Can’t be in two places at once.’

Dean took a long pull of his beer, thinking. ‘Can’t I make a new one?’ he asked. ‘Or – buy one?’

Bobby laughed at that. ‘Buy one? It ain’t something you can buy, boy. In fact, I figure it’s the only thing you can never buy in Heaven.’

‘I just – don’t feel right without it.’

Bobby turned his shrewd gaze on Dean. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘It feels like there’s half of you missing, doesn’t it?’

‘Well – yeah.’

‘That’s ‘cause there is half of you missing. That’s how soulmates work.’

Dean nearly choked on his beer, and Bobby had to slap him between the shoulder blades. ‘Oh, you didn’t think I didn’t know about the soulmates thing, did ya? The amount of time I spent with you boys – gimme some credit.’

‘I – well – we – I thought…’

‘You thought what? That soulmates aren’t supposed to be brothers? That incest would keep you out of Heaven? I think we both know that ain’t true.’

Dean sipped his beer in silence, not trusting himself to say anything at all. He’d always known – or at least suspected – that the link between him and Sam went deeper than any bond normal brothers, or lovers, or even brother-lovers, shared – but soul mates? He remembered what Ash had said to him at the Roadhouse-Heaven, all those years ago – about soulmates having shared Heavens, and had he expected that he and Sam would share their own little piece of eternity?

If he was honest with himself, he’d never thought he’d reach Heaven at all, after his years in Hell, and all the other things he’d done, and now that Jack had reconfigured things so that everyone could visit each other – well, that meant the soulmate rule no longer applied, surely? And yet – the feeling he always had, the ache like he’d lost half of himself – dammit, like half his soul was missing – that had to mean something. He’d wanted Sam to have his own life – had finally come to terms with the idea that they had horizons beyond hunting, and that his baby brother might want to explore those horizons without him – and yet now – there was only one thing he could think about.

He had finished his beer, and was on the verge of getting up to get back behind the wheel (no issues with drink-driving in the Great Beyond) and go for a long drive with only Led Zeppelin for company. Perhaps he’d even see if he could go and visit John Bonham, and some of the other rock stars who’d reached the top of that Stairway a long time ago. Then something burst out of the bushes and came running up to the porch – a shaggy dog, woofing in delight and licking his hands.

‘Hey, Miracle!’ said Dean, petting his head. ‘You’re a good boy, arentcha, a good boy…’ his voice trailed off as he thought about something. ‘Wait, if you’re here, does that mean…?’

‘All dogs go to Heaven,’ said Bobby, and lifted his beer bottle. ‘Guess he ain’t on Earth no more.’

‘Wow,’ said Dean, his hands pausing in Miracle’s long fur until the dog nudged him to make him continue petting. ‘Did Sammy look after you? Did he give you a long and happy life?’

Miracle just barked enthusiastically, which Dean took as a Yes. He buried his face in the dog’s fur and felt, for a little while, just a little bit closer to Sam.

***

It took Sam a long time to accept that his brother was really gone. The bunker felt so empty, all the time, and as the hunts gradually dried up, he decided he needed to move out. The echoing underground spaces just felt haunted – not by Dean, Sam could have coped with a ghostly brother – but by his absence. He caught himself, several times, eyeing up a gun, or a bottle of sleeping pills, or a coil of rope, or a knife, and wondering how long it would take for him to be reunited with Dean. And he had to admit that, if it hadn’t been for Miracle, he probably would have gone through with it. The dog just kept demanding to be fed, and to be taken out for runs, and to be petted. He never gave up on Sam, so Sam couldn’t give up on himself.

Finally – on the day he got the call about the werewolf hunt – he resolved to leave the Bunker behind him. He knew that, once he turned the light out and closed the door behind him, he’d never be back again. So he packed up the trunk of the Impala with three boxes of possessions: one for himself, one for Miracle, and one for Dean. The last box was full of memories – shirts which still held a lingering scent of Dean, his old leather jacket, his watch, his most beloved vinyl records, his favorite weapons, a few photographs – and his necklace – the one with the amulet.

Sam had kept that necklace in his pocket for so long it had almost become a part of him, but he’d always thought of it as a part of Dean. Now, he lifted it up to the light inside the bunker, looked at that inscrutable face, and felt a powerful tug inside him – a tug of both sadness, and hope. He put the necklace inside the box with the rest, and for the first time since Dean had died, thought that maybe, just maybe, things might turn out right.

That werewolf hunt turned out to be his last hunt for a while. Sam drifted around, sleeping in whatever dog-friendly motels he could find, or on the back seat of the Impala when he couldn’t find one. He scoured the local news and the internet, looking for more cases, trying to throw himself back into the job. Yet it seemed that the monsters were thinner on the ground now, and soon Sam realized his heart wasn’t in it any more – the family business just wasn’t the same without the family.

He toured around for some time, checking in with old friends. He saw Jody and Donna and Clare and Alex. He saw Charlie and her girlfriend. He saw Jesse and Cesar. He saw Garth and his family – little Sam and Castiel were growing well. No Dean though – his absence was a constant pain, like the ache in a missing limb, and Sam felt it even more acutely when he saw other people’s happiness.

He kept seeking people out, further and further flung branches of the extended Winchester hunting family. He tracked down Lisa’s son Ben Braeden, now twenty-one and studying medicine, and looking just a little bit like Dean at the same age. He even reconnected with Amelia, now living happily with her husband Don and their two young children – and a big shaggy dog. He really regretted that particular foray into his own past – it just made him feel miserable, and as he drove away from their picture-perfect house, if it hadn’t been for Miracle on the back seat, he’d have probably driven the Impala straight off a bridge into the nearest canyon.

Finally, he worked his way back to Jody Mills, and as he sat in her house late at night, drinking her wine and eating her potato chips, Miracle gnawing a bone at his feet, she said something to him.

‘You know you need to see her at some point, Sam,’

He didn’t need to ask who she meant.

‘It’s – not that easy,’ he said.

‘Isn’t it? You know she cares about you, and I think you care about her.’

Sam sighed. ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I really do. But – me and Dean –‘

‘You had something special,’ Jody filled in for him. ‘She knows that too.’

Sam sighed again. ‘Something special’ was one way to describe what he and Dean had shared, he supposed, but how could he ever really convey the true depth of their relationship? How could he possibly tell someone – anyone – the way he and Dean had lived together, hunted together, slept together (and yes, they had slept together, but almost more significant was the way they had always huddled together for warmth and protection, neither of them ever able to sleep properly without the other). How they had been everything to each other – more than brothers, more than lovers, more than anything?

He looked up, and saw that Jody was smiling at him.

‘And I’m sure she knows how you feel without him. If you’re worried what she’ll think of you – don’t. Most hunters – we got something, some pain, we carry with us.’

‘We’re all damaged goods,’ said Sam, and finished the rest of the glass of wine with one big gulp.

‘What’s damaged can be mended, if you’ll only let someone try,’ said Jody, and took the empty glass from him.

‘I suppose you’re right,’ said Sam, and got his phone out right then to send a message to Eileen, before the courage could leave him.

They arranged to meet for brunch at a trendy vegan hipster café (which also accepted dogs) in New York City, where Eileen had settled now. Sam remembered how Dean had never wanted to drive the Impala into Manhattan, so he left Baby at a big parking lot in a commuter town and rode the train into town, Miracle on the seat next to him. And he remembered how his brother had always hated these trendy cafes with their avocado toast and their artisan coffees and their stupid plant milks. Meeting Eileen at a place like this felt like moving on – which felt both fresh and good and right, and gave Sam an aching feeling of guilt.

The café was noisy with both music and chatter – Sam felt glad that he’d spent a long time practising his signing beforehand, so that he and Eileen could have a silent conversation in the middle of the hubbub. They sat on a half-collapsed sofa, twisted sideways to face each other, while they drank their almond-milk lattes and ate their sourdough toast, topped with scrambled tofu, wilted spinach, and a sprinkle of dukkah. Delicious, and not a nitrate in sight. Dean would have hated this place.

After exchanging a few stilted words of standard greetings, Eileen asked Sam to describe what happened on his and Dean’s final hunt. He did his best to describe everything to her – and found that having to do so with his hands really helped, because he didn’t have to worry about his voice cracking. Then she asked him what he’d been doing since, and he told her that too – along with an apology for not contacting her sooner.

‘It’s okay,’ she signed. Then she asked him the killer question: ‘And how are you coping without him?’

How was he coping without him? ‘Not well,’ he signed. ‘If it hadn’t been for Miracle here – I think I wouldn’t have made it this far, to be honest with you.’ He pulled a face. It was the closest he’d yet come to admitting to anyone just how close he’d come to ending his own life, stretching out ahead of him like an endless highway, with nobody sitting by his side.

‘I’m glad you’ve made it this far,’ Eileen signed back. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

There was an awkward pause. Sam drained his coffee and then petted Miracle, just for something to do with hands.

‘So – what happens now?’ Eileen signed to him.

‘I think – you-’ Sam stopped, waved his hands in a clearing-away gesture, and started again. ‘I would like you to be a part of my life,’ he signed. ‘If you want to. However you want to.’

Eileen nodded, thoughtfully. Sam knew a moment of pure panic – what if she was going to tell him to get lost, that she’d already found somebody else and wanted nothing to do with him ever again? And that moment of panic told him that actually, no matter how close to the edge of despair he’d gotten over these last months, he did want something more out of life – he wanted Eileen beside him.

‘I would like to be a part of your life,’ she signed, eventually. ‘If you’ll let me in.’

‘I will try my best,’ Sam signed back to her. ‘But – you should know – me and Dean – we were much closer than most brothers. Without him – it’s difficult for me.’

‘I understand,’ she signed. ‘And I don’t mind.’

‘Really?’ Sam accompanied the sign with a pleading look – the kind of look Dean had always called his ‘puppy-dog eyes’.

‘Really. I like you, Sam. I like you a lot. You’re a good man. And if you’ve got baggage – well, I have trust issues myself. We can take things slowly, and I understand if you need time for yourself, sometimes. And maybe I’ll need some time for myself, too.’

‘Thank you,’ signed Sam, and meant it.

Eileen sighed then, and looked away, briefly, before turning back to him.

‘I want you to be honest with me, Sam,’ she signed.

‘Of course,’ he replied, although his heart sank at what she might ask him. Being close to a dead brother was one thing – actual Game of Thrones, Flowers in the Attic incest was another.

She didn’t ask him about the incest. Or at least not in a sexual way. That would almost have been preferable to what she did ask him.

‘Do you think you and Dean were – or are – soulmates?’

Sam blinked a few times, and had to ask her to repeat the question. She did, even saying that word ‘soulmates’ out loud for his benefit.

Well, he’d promised to be honest with her. ‘Yes,’ he signed. She just nodded.

‘I thought so,’ she signed.

‘Is that – a problem?’ he asked. ‘Do you – not want to be in life now?’

‘It’s okay,’ she signed. ‘Thank you for being honest.’

‘Is it really okay? Being with me, knowing I’m soulmates with – somebody else?’

‘Most people never meet their soulmates, or never have one in the first place. I’d rather be with you, knowing you’ve told me the truth, than somebody I don’t know if I can trust.’

Sam nodded, slowly. It made sense. Sort of. To be sitting here, with Eileen, talking about his dead soulmate.

‘Shall I get us some more coffees?’ Eileen asked him.

‘Please.’

***

He and Eileen did take things slowly, at first. Then it felt like they accelerated their life together. After Miracle died – the dog had already been old when he and Dean had found him – it felt like the last thing tying Sam to his old life had gone.

As he hugged the old dog to him in the vet’s office, he whispered to him: ‘You’re a good boy, Miracle. You go straight to Dean now, tell him I’ll be all right.’ Miracle just nuzzled Sam a little, and Sam felt the simple love in that gesture, hoped he could take the message to Dean.

He sat in the front seat – the shotgun seat – of the Impala for a long time after that, crying his eyes out. And yet, he no longer wanted to drive off a cliff. He wanted to stay alive, for at least a little longer. He messaged Eileen, and started driving before she��d even answered him.

When he turned up on her doorstep, she saw the absence beside him, and invited him in without a word.

Shortly after that, they got a house together, in upstate New York, parked the Impala in the garage, under a dust sheet, and started their new life. They got married, in a very low-key ceremony, only a few people – their old hunting buddies – present. Eileen got a job in computing – helping to design and test user interfaces to be suitable for the hard-of-hearing. And, while she didn’t say anything to him directly. Sam realized that, if they were going to settle down properly, he should really get himself an actual job. He hadn’t been a hunter for some time – he’d stopped without even realizing it. So he finished his legal training, and finally qualified as an attorney. It felt weird to be doing a ‘normal’ white-collar job at last, but he consoled himself with the thought that, with all the pro-bono work he did, he was still saving people – and hunting things, in a different way.

A few years later, although Sam had never really seen himself as a father – Dean was the one with the strong paternal instincts - they had a child. When they came to thinking of a name, Sam was filled with all sorts of suggestions – but Eileen shook her head, and signed at him ‘How about Dean?’

And Sam didn’t like that idea at first – it felt too much like revisiting the past he’d tried to leave behind – but the more he thought about it, the more he found he couldn’t think of his little baby boy as anything other than Dean. So Dean it was, and would ever be. He had another Dean in his life now, and he gave his son all the love he had.

He never forgot the other Dean – how could he? – but gradually, over the years, he accepted that he had other people in his life now, who were more important to him than his dead brother. At least for now, and now was the only time that really mattered. He got the Impala out very occasionally – one Halloween he even sat behind the wheel wearing his costume of an old Grandpa, complete with cheap grey wig.

Eileen and he rarely spoke about the car, or the old Dean. His life before her, and their son, became something packed away in a box that he only rarely got out looked at – like the amulet he still kept, tucked away, and occasionally took out. Whenever he did so, he admired the golden gleam of the metal, still untarnished after all these years, and let himself fill up with all the aching sadness that was normally stoppered up.

***

Time worked differently in Heaven. Dean knew that. It took him a while to get used to though – however long ‘a while’ was here. He kept expecting things to change faster than they did, or for people – and Miracle – to age and wither away. It was an adjustment to realize, gradually, that here things just went on and on – unless you changed them yourself. And Dean didn’t really want anything to change, not really. He wanted everything to go on as it was, until –

Until Sam arrived. Dean accepted that he shouldn’t wish his brother would hurry up and get there – they’d have eternity together, after all, and wanting eternity to start sooner made no sense. Not when he’d told Sam to live on without him. He wanted Sam to live a full life, to hook up properly with Eileen at last, get a job, wear some dorky sweaters, even have a kid or two. Enjoy all the apple-pie-and-picket-fence stuff that he, Sam, had always wanted, and he, Dean, didn’t.

Did he? Hadn’t part of him always enjoyed cooking for his little brother, taking care of him? Hadn’t part of him longed for Ben to be his son? Hadn’t part of him wanted to settle down and have a family?

Well, in Heaven, all things were possible. He could find somebody else – like Rufus had Aretha – and have a new life, for a while at least. However long ‘a while’ was, here. He didn’t know how to start finding someone, though, or who that someone would even be. Whenever he tried to imagine sharing his afterlife with anyone, only one person ever sprang to mind.

And then. One day – one moment – when he was standing on the bridge, enjoying the view over river and the forests, Miracle by his side. He felt, without being able to say how he felt it, that his brother was here. At last. Or – time worked differently here. Maybe not at last. Maybe he was right on time.

Eternity had to start sometime, and Dean guessed it was starting now. He smiled.

‘Hey Sammy,’

He turned around. And there he was, exactly as he remembered him. After however many years it had been for him on Earth. Sam looked a little tired – as if the last few months of his life had been a lot to bear. And – almost shy, almost as if he was worried Dean wouldn’t want to see him any more, that he might somehow have moved on, in the time before he arrived in Heaven. Well, for better or worse, he hadn’t.

‘Dean,’ said Sam, and met his eyes, and smiled.

They embraced, Miracle rubbing himself against both of their legs at once. As they did so, Dean felt something hot pressed against him, and when the drew apart again, he saw a light glowing from Sam’s pocket.

‘Is that…?’

Sam dipped his hand inside his pocket, and pulled out the necklace. The amulet. The only thing you can never buy in Heaven. It was glowing, as it had done in the presence of God, except now –

‘I think that means,’ Dean started to say, but then Sam cut him off.

‘I know,’ he said, and lifted the necklace to put it around Dean’s neck again. Dean ducked his head without even thinking, and felt the weight of the amulet fall into place once more. Once more – and forever. And finally, he felt whole again. He had been reunited with the other half of his soul, and he was now complete. And he always would be.

Sam and Dean leaned together against the parapet of the bridge, and knew they had eternity to explore all the vistas of Heaven. Together.

#wincest #forever wincest fest

7 notes · View notes

apathetically-hopeful · 3 years

Text

5/18/21 Emotions

Emotional vulnerability has never been a suit I’ve been able to wear comfortably. My mind has waited for this moment for a long time, so long that it now feels like I’m reconnecting with a distant relative. It’s awkward, and at most times, unpleasant. When you’ve spent so long suppressing the parts of yourself that are rebelling against everything you’re trying to ignore; life gets messy quick. And it holds true, because my life is very plain and simply a mess right now.

I had another panic attack today. I’ve never really had these before; except on very rare occasions. Now I have them once or twice a week; and they are on a whole other level from the ones I’ve experienced in the past. I was finally committing to completing a task I’ve been putting off for some time. The simple process of unpacking and starting to organize my new space sent me spiraling. I’m not actually sure where it came from; if it was the unpacking or just some kind of mental dam breaking. Out of nowhere though, I began crying and felt like I was unable to catch my breath. It was a completely crippling moment for me; because I am not a person that handles feeling powerless very well.

Fair to say; I’ve never really had a handle on my emotions in any capacity. In fact the only control I did have over them was my ability to bury them deep inside myself; never to see the light of day again. But instead of letting my emotions define me and make me who I am, something much worse happened. I developed into a person that was so afraid of vulnerability and their own feelings that I turned into a manipulative and self absorbed monster. My need to live each day without feeling the weight or internal cost of my actions turned me into someone that could only pursue momentary happiness and fulfillment. When those moments had passed, however, I was left with a constant feeling of emptiness.

To fill the perceived void in myself, I did everything I could, except for everything I should. I would have nights on end of partying and indulgence, or make impulse buys, or just surround myself with distractions that would only leave me feeling whole for fleeting instants. When I wasn’t able to comfort myself with superficial bullshit; I’d become emotionally destitute and drag myself and those that loved me down into the bowels of my self loathing. Having next to no healthy coping mechanisms meant I was just destined to keep following a path that would lead to an assured destruction of self. As with all things that are inevitable; the inevitable happened.

I was going through life with an attitude that had zero sustainability. How can a person perpetually lack self worth and emotional cognizance, and somehow expect any sort of fulfillment from life. It was a never ending cycle of finding something to pin my happiness on and then having to eventually come to terms with my own lack of internal equilibrium. Now that I have hit rock bottom; I’m left with no choice but to face myself. Because I’ve finally started this journey, I find that I’m now forced to deal with everything all at once. The lock has been smashed off the cage where I kept all the monsters of my own creation locked away.

Staring all my trauma down every day has been the most exhausting thing I’ve ever attempted. Exacerbated by the fact that I am facing new and fresh trauma; I find that it’s all I can do to hold myself together from one minute to the next. My fears have shifted now though. What I find myself most afraid of is regressing to old habits of dealing with things both internally and externally. Unfortunately I’m not perfect and there is no clearly defined path to succeeding in my efforts.

See, I fucked things up again for myself just a few days ago. I got so focused in, on an external situation, that I allowed myself to slip into familiar habits for a brief moment. Luckily I was able to pull myself back from the edge in a relatively timely manner; but not before I had caused some damage to everything I’ve been trying to accomplish. Now I find that I’m paralyzed by fear of the consequences of my actions. I don’t know if what I did has irreparably changed the course of what I’m seeking. All that’s left for me is to hope that myself and those I affected can forgive me for my moment of weakness. If they could see the damage my screwup did to myself as well as them, then I hope they can understand that it is everything I’m trying to move away from.

Trying to balance on this tightrope is something that will take me a lot of practice. Falling means landing back into everything that made me so insufferable to myself and others. Fortunately, so far I have only slipped and been able to find the strength to pull myself back up. The canyon below is deep and perilous; something I’m not sure I could survive the depths of. That makes my only choice to move forward; to reach the other side of this great chasm spanning my psyche.

When you’ve spent so long avoiding anything that wasn’t immediately satisfying, it is easy to not understand your emotions. Navigating through an ocean of feelings that you don’t even properly know how to feel. I find that I am often confused, or even upset, that I can’t decipher what is going on in my head. My traumas, both past and present, are all laid bare in front of me now. Learning the way to proceed against them is challenging. But I feel that somewhere under all this madness and uncertainty is a part of me that is relieved; dare I say, maybe even happy.

I kept so much of myself locked away for so long that I think the part of myself that allowed me to have hope, to feel, and to understand had been imprisoned as well. Turning inward and dealing with one’s own shortcomings in life is a painful but necessary journey. I used to regret and blame everything in my life for making me into this person that I’m trying so hard to leave behind. But now I find that my only regret is that I never started traveling into myself sooner.

Letting go of these regrets has been like an anchor removed from the shackles of my soul. I’m only in the most infantile steps of the process, but I know that each day I find myself feeling a little more at peace in my own mind. I have many more difficulties on the road before me, and I am sure I will stumble again; but I’m learning the depths of my own strength and will. I am now taking a level of comfort in being able to allow myself to truly experience my feelings and what they are trying to tell me. I find that after a break down, before the tears have even dried, that the sun seems to be a little brighter and the air just ever slightly easier to breathe. Maybe this is what true hope feels like. Maybe I’m truly starting to believe in my own power over my emotions, without feeling the need to lock them up.

To those that I’ve affected: please know that I am facing all of this with nothing but sincerity and love. I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt by me along the way. My only hope is that you keep your faith in me, because I will not stop until it is rewarded. And I will press on past that point, because the journey of self is one that never ends. I just need to believe that somewhere along the way, I will not only gain everything that I want, but that I will be truly deserving of it.

Seize control of your mind and emotions. Find yourself on the other side of the pain. Love always,

Trevor.

#mental health #emotions #healing #therapy #hope #breakthrough #positivity #motivation #apology #forgiveness #writing

1 note · View note

realityhelixcreates · 4 years

Text

Lasabrjotr Chapter 66: The Forsaken Soldier

Chapters: 66/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature Warnings:

Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go)

Characters: Loki (Marvel),

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent),

Summary: Loki has several worst nightmares. Here is one of them.

You woke safely in Loki's arms.

“Mmm. I could get used to this.” You murmured, voice morning-rough. Loki shifted so that he could squeeze you a little closer.

“Then sleep here. Every night. You can, you know.”

“I know.” You said, rolling out of bed. “I just don't know if I should. Or if I want to. Well, I kind of want to. No, that's not quite right. I want to be at a point where I feel like I ought to.”

“What holds you back?” He asked, handing you a bathrobe.

“The newness. It's only been a month or so. And I haven't really known you all that long in the first place. I'm still a bit overwhelmed by everything. It's a lot more manageable now though, don't worry.” You hurried to assure him. “It's like being back in school. School is pretty tough; you have to cram a lot into a day, but I did it nearly every day for like, twelve years. I can do it again.”

“Don't let me pile too much on you.” Loki warned. “You may have noticed, but I've been told I have a tendency to go slightly...overboard...with my planning.”

You slipped into the bath, grateful for the warm water. The mornings were definitely getting colder, the closer to November it got.

“We can slow down after Buridag.” You said. “There's a lot riding on the holiday. I want to do it right. As much as I possibly can.”

“You will be fantastic, my dear. The herald of a new era.”

“Yeah, that's part of the problem. You know that.”

“The people will grow to love you even more than they already do. With your dedication, how could they not?”

“Maybe. But they aren't looking at me through your eyes, Loki. I mean, you look at me and you don't seem to see how I could possibly fail, even though I very well could.”

Loki scooped water up into his bowl and doused himself with it.

“Not with me by your side.” He said firmly.

“Okay, but all those people out there might be looking at me and not see how I could possibly succeed without you by my side. Scooting me along, holding my hand, catching me when I fall.”

“But I'm supposed to do that-” He started.

“As a boyfriend, yes.” You interrupted. “But as someone in one of the highest positions in the kingdom, to another person in another of the highest positions? No, I don't think that sets a good example. If I can't do my deeds myself, won't I be seen as...huglausi? Incompetent?”

“No, no. That simply means to be somehow craven. Treacherous and cowardly. Trying and failing is not the same. It takes courage to try at all.”

“It's the failing part I'm most worried about. There's so many people to let down. I've never actually been in a leadership position, Loki. Not over children, not over pets, or my peers, or at school, or at work. I've never actually wanted it, and I'm not sure I'll be any good at it, no matter how much tutoring you give me.”

“Oh. I think I understand now.” He gathered you up into his soapy embrace. “You will not be asked to run this kingdom, fear not. Your main duties will be to me. Helping me with my work, and acting as support. Saga has taught you of this, has she not?”

“Yeah, it's just...Well, it seems like most of the Seidkonas we study also took on a lot of other duties. And we're seeing each other now, and everyone knows it, and I know everyone's thinking about how it went with your parents...”

“They are nostalgic. My parents were well matched, it's true. But we are not them, and we don't have to do things the way they did. No matter how many people wish to project the image of my mother onto you, you will always only be you, and I will always be me. We don't have to be like them, and you don't have to take on more than you feel capable of. Continue learning, continue training, and you will become capable of even more, but you will never need to take on everything yourself.”

“Okay.” You said, nestling into his chest. These morning baths took longer and longer every day, and it was obvious why. “I'm just worried, you know? Three months ago, it seemed like I had all the time in the world, but now it's like I could never have learned enough in such a short time.”

“I will admit that this is a bit rushed.” Loki said. “Normally, a Seidkona is in training for decades, if not centuries. Obviously, that won't work here, which is why I've had Saga try to distill things down to their basic essence for you. You will only have to train for years.”

You sighed. More years of schooling. Well, hadn't you been a little jealous of your classmates that had gotten to go to college? This would just be like getting a special degree. On the bright side, you would be the only human to have that degree, at least for a while. Would that make you an automatic PhD?

“I know it might be better to wait until you have more experience, but this Buridag is of pivotal importance. We should set our new traditions as early as possible.”

“Well, I agree with that. I guess I just kinda wish it wasn't so much all at once. It's so much, Loki.”

He kissed your wet forehead.

“I'll slow it down after Buridag.” He promised. “We can dedicate different days of the week to different subjects. Or switch subjects each week. Whichever suits you best.”

“That sounds good. I would like some calm, quiet times too. I'm not used to so much adventure.” You swayed back and forth in his arms, the water lapping your skin in slippery comfort.

“I like it here.” You murmured. “Right here. It feels safe.”

You heard Loki breathe in sharply, felt his embrace tighten, and you looked up. His expression was...not exactly unreadable, but unfamiliar. But his perfectly sculpted cheeks had gone all red, and his eyes were suspiciously glassy, and you suddenly found yourself wondering if anybody had ever told him that he made them feel safe before.

“It's too bad my magic isn't about time travel.” You continued. “I'd just freeze time right here for a little while just so I could stay.”

“I feel the same.” He almost whispered. “Just here. Just us. No interruptions, no deadlines. Maybe sometime soon. Maybe a tour around Iceland? Just us, our horses, some tents?”

“Camping? I like camping. Can we do that?”

“If you would like to, yes. In the spring, when everything has thawed back out, and we are all tired of being cooped up inside, we can go out and see the wonders of this country together.”

Just you, him, and the horses. Spring in Iceland was beautiful, even from the small glimpses you had gotten. Just you and him, in a tent, under the sky. Firelight and starlight, the chill wind from the mountains, thick woolly blankets. Shared body heat.

“Let's do it. First day of Spring, let's pack up and go see everything!”

All you had to do was get through the winter.

*****

Loki floated along on a buoyant heart. The trust you showed him, the vulnerability! The belief that he could do something about your problems; it was extraordinary.

Had he really done it? Had he really become someone worthy of the love of such a woman? Maybe not yet. He was still keeping secrets, after all. There was still much about his crimes that you didn't know. But soon, he would tell you. And then, he might be worthy. Maybe. He would have taken the first steps, at least!

He'd better figure out how to build that trust up fast, because learning these things was going to damage it. Learning that he was no Asgardian would be bad enough. How might you feel to discover that even the face he showed you everyday was a lie? You'd be in the right to demand to see what creature was really embracing you.

Would you be kind? Would you swallow down your bile at the sight of him, or would you be so overcome with disgust at the revelation that this was what had been kissing you, sleeping next to you, bathing with you, that you would flee from him?

Would you dismiss him and his nobility when he told you of how he had betrayed both of his fathers, and all of his people, usurping the throne and glorifying himself? Would you scoff at his humanitarian efforts and his care for the Asgardian people once you knew about his treasonous acts?

Would you still be here, once he told you about Jotunheim? His greatest, most heinous, most unforgivable crime? Would you even look at him, after that? Or would you disappear somewhere into the outskirts of the city, and never let him lay eyes on you again? He would deserve that. He couldn't even tell you that he was making amends. He had no way to do so. It wasn't as if he could take both sides of the great canyon and smash them back together. He couldn't restore the lives lost. He couldn't even take the throne and rule them as he was born to do: How could a frost giant ever trust him after what he had done to their entire world?

And how could you trust him, after these terrible deeds? The longer he waited the more you would love him, and the greater the betrayal would feel. He knew this. He had lived this! He couldn't possibly put you through it too.

He couldn't make you happy on a framework of lies. He knew this. All of his misery was based on such a framework; he knew how insidious it was. Learning these things was already going to hurt you, just hopefully not so much as to send you running. Perhaps he had already waited too long. Thor had been urging him to tell you, at least about his heritage, for some time now, and it was becoming clear from your ever-increasing affection that he couldn't put it off much longer.

A messenger approached him, a little out of breath.

“Sire.” She said. “The ice wall in the underground tunnels-they've broken through!”

“Thank you.” Loki replied. He'd almost forgotten, but he had told them to let him know as soon as they had reached the other side. “Let them know I will be down shortly.”

“I shall.”

As she turned to leave, a second messenger limped around the corner, leaning heavily against the wall as he approached. His left arm hung lifeless at his side, the shoulder collapsed in a crushed mess.

“M-my liege...” He stammered, barely above a whisper. Loki and the messenger rushed to his side.

“What happened?” Loki demanded, as the first messenger fitted herself under his good arm for support.

“Frost Giant...” He gasped. “In the ice tunnels. It woke up....rampaging...”

“Get him to the healers!” Loki ordered. A Frost Giant in the city! Where? Where? He had to find it fast.

What was it doing here? If it had been in the underground tunnels, sealed up in ice...Could it have been here since the time the Jotnar had invaded, a thousand years ago? That was the last time Jotnar had been on Earth.

Save for himself.

Rushing down the halls, he found evidence of the creature's passing in smashed objects and walls, in horribly still bodies. All leading to the interior of the palace complex.

To the library.

To you.

*****

Today's lesson was on Alfar loan words, with Saga, and Asgard's most unwelcome guest instructor, Gloa. The smug brat had been asked along partly because her ever-present maidservant, Kolla, could actually speak and interpret several languages. You figured it was just another example of the lower class being even more savvy and skilled than the people who assumed to rule them, but Gloa actually seemed to be putting effort into teaching.

It's just that she was teaching a bunch of literal children, and you. And she utterly refused to engage with you. She didn't call on you, didn't address you, didn't look you in the face, even once.

Saga stayed at another table, taking notes, while other scholars hustled here and there for books, giving the class as much room as they could. None of them really paid you any attention, but you still found it a little humiliating to be put in the kids class, getting tutored by a political rival.

You got the feeling that Kolla was subtly tutoring Gloa as the class went on, cleverly steering her from subject to subject in her humble way.

Maybe you wouldn't eventually steal her away into your employ, after all. Not if she was doing the good work of helping Gloa develop into an actual person.

Strange noises and an odd thumping that you could feel in the floor made you look up from your notes, only to see that everyone else had noticed too. The whole library seemed frozen in place, silent, staring at the doors.

“I will check.” Kolla said quietly. Just as she reached the heavy wooden door, it flung open, ripped from its hinges, and slammed her to the floor, trapping her beneath it.

Gloa screamed, everyone screamed, as a huge and monstrous form shoved through the doorway. People ran past you as you stared, to the back of the library.

You had seen something like this before. This was a Frost Giant. Loki's little illusions had not truly prepared you for how massive they were. This one was three, four times your size, one arm encased in a sheath of ice that formed a club longer than you were tall. His head whipped back and forth, red eyes wide and wild. They landed on the children behind you.

You leaped up on a solid wood table between him and the kids, summoning your strength and concentration, you focused on the icy club as he lifted it over your head.

You couldn't teleport it off of his arm. It was like an extension of him, and he was simply too large to budge.

He brought the club down, and you threw yourself off the table just before it was smashed into splinters.

You jumped up onto the next closest table, knife in hand. The children were still in the giant's path, and you shouted at him, waving your woefully inefficient blade.

Magic wouldn't work; he was simply too big. And your little knife might not even penetrate his skin, but you had to keep him distracted. Someone must be coming.

A book sailed over your head and bounced off the giant's shoulder. He turned to you, snarling something, and Gloa leaped up on the table next to you, snatching books from the shelf and pelting him, shouting at the top of her lungs.

The giant charged at you swinging wildly. His club connected with a bookshelf, dropping it against the table, and blocking off the direction you had planed to jump. There was another bookshelf behind you, where Gloa was getting her ammunition, and children to the other side.

Nowhere to go.

The Frost Giant raised his club once more, you and Gloa clinging to one another in terror. In a blur of black and green, Loki flew through the air, to slam a dagger into both of the giant's shoulders. He let his weight drag the blades through the frigid flesh of the giant's back, overbalancing him, and sending him reeling backwards, arms flailing.

The Frost Giant roared in pain and fury; a sound cut short by the sudden detachment of his head by the flying arc of Stormbreaker. You flung your arm up instinctively, catching droplets of blood on your bare skin, and crying out as they burned you.

Gloa dashed away from you to her maidservant, trying to lift the massive door off her, as the Frost Giant collapsed, trapping Loki beneath him.

Commotion reigned: screaming, crying children, help pouring in from outside the library, Thor directing the wave of activity, until everyone was gone, and the library silent and empty.

But Loki was still under the huge corpse, and you rushed to his side. Or, you started to, before his voice rang out, slightly muffled, commanding you to stop in your tracks.

“You made a promise to me, _____!” He snarled. “What did you promise me?”

“Loki-”

“Don't come any closer! Even in death, this body is dangerous to you! What did you promise me?”

“That...That I would hide if I ever saw a Jotun...”

“And did you keep that promise?”

“But Loki-”

“Did you break your promise to me?”

“...Yes...”

He didn't understand. There were kids. And maybe you hadn't been all that effective, but you had kept the giant's eyes off of the children for just long enough.

“And what happened? You were injured again!”

“No, he didn't hit me! I'm fine!”

“I heard you shout!”

“Oh...The blood stung me. It's nothing, really.”

“It is not nothing, you little fool! That's undiluted frost magic! Left untreated, it can freeze your blood within your veins. There was a reason I extracted that promise from you, _____!”

“Loki, there were kids here!” You shouted in frustration. He sounded so furious, and no doubt he had been frightened for you, but you had a responsibility that even he couldn't deny.

“...Get to the healing wing.” He commanded. “Blood burns are no small matter. We will talk later.”

“Loki...”

“Go!”

You went.

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel)#loki x reader

7 notes · View notes

rocket-remmy · 4 years

Text

Bent, But Not Broken||Morgan and Remmy

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: A long needed talk. And a well deserved cry. CONTENT: PTSD metions, kidnap mentions, death mention

The door stood in front of them and Remmy felt like it was a canyon. Morgan was just on the other side. She’d been at the ring. She’d tried so desperately to reconnect with them and Remmy had pushed her away at every point. The fear that Jax had pounded into them still hadn’t quite left, but they needed to explain themself. They needed Morgan to know that they never meant any of that, anything they’d said. They needed her to know that they weren’t mad and that they never were and that they missed her and they needed her. God, did they need her. But there was a door between them and her and they couldn’t find the strength to lift their hand and knock yet. Their mind was racing. What if she didn’t want to see them? What if she said no? What if she’d only come for Nell? Morgan was part of their coven, it was logical. It would make sense if she never wanted to see or talk to Remmy ever again, even though she’d agreed to let Remmy come over. They had to believe that was good, right? That had to be a good sign. And they owed it to her, to at least explain everything. To finally explain everything. Maybe they even needed to explain everything to themself. Finally, they lifted their hand, and knocked. And waited. And when the door finally, opened, Remmy looked up at Morgan with as much of a grin as they could manage. “Hey,” they said, “Um...can I come in?”

Morgan stood on the other side of the door, hands numb and idle. She just had to look through the peephole or the window to confirm it was Remmy, but her legs were heavy and slow. It was easier to stay here and run over all the things that this could be about. Maybe she really had done something wrong and not realized. Maybe Remmy had thought things over and decided they really didn’t need her hovering at the corners of their life like some stray puppy that didn’t know what ‘go on and git’ meant. And maybe they were going to say that it was fine now and they could try to go back to something good or close to it. The only thing keeping her from finding out was that door. Morgan put her fingers to the handle and searched for something inside herself to brace against for impact. Finally, the ache of not knowing what kind of talk this was going to be won out over her nerves and she opened it quickly.

“Remmy…” she whispered. Her eyes looked them over, sad and searching. They didn’t look that much better from when she’d left the hospital. Clean and healed, but still too lean from being starved by those awful people, and there was still the collar to deal with. No matter how much she tried to hold their gaze, she couldn’t figure out if this was going to be one more push to get lost or something else. “Y-yeah, of course,” she said, stepping back to give them room, flashing a small timid smile. “I said you could, you know?” She closed the door carefully behind them. “It’s just us right now, but if you wanted to stick around to see Deirdre, she’d be really happy to see you too?” Her voice croaked on the last few words. Stupid nerves. Stupid anxious lungs. “W-we um, can go sit, if you like? I could grab snacks, if you’re hungry? I um, I tried out this..brain salsa experiment?”

Remmy wondered at what point it was too late to turn back. They weren’t sure why their nerves were screaming at them to run, as if their flight sense had not turned off even though the arena lights no longer shone in their eyes and the cage bars no longer rattled in their head. It occurred to them that they’d lost the will a long time ago to fight their senses anymore, even if running at this moment wasn’t an option. It wasn’t the cage that had made them feel as if their only options were only ever fight or flee, but it was the place that perfected it inside of them. The place that beat it so soundly into their skin it felt like a part of them now. Like they were nothing without the jitter of their hands or the tense movements of their muscles, even as they stepped inside a house that had once felt like a sanctuary. Everything on alert, body taught, as if preparing itself for the blow that was surely coming. Physical or emotional, it was always the same response. The pain was the same, after all. Especially to an undead creature that could no longer feel fully anyway.

“M-maybe,” they stuttered, unsure why the thought of seeing Deirdre made them want to dash for the door again. It was two feet behind them and they were already finding themself wishing it were still open. The walls closing in temporarily before they blinked and looked out the window and remembered that nothing here was locked. This place was not a prison nor a cell. It was just a house, with a door, and a friend. They turned back to look at Morgan, finding it near impossible to catch her eyes, their gaze shifting to the floor, the walls, their hands wringing together in front of them. “Let’s sit,” they said through an exhale, “o-outside?” There was a second question that needed answering, but Remmy couldn’t remember what she’d said. “Um...that’s...that’s okay.” Looked back at the front door again, as if memorizing where it was from the spot they stood in, and from the spot they were heading to.

Morgan couldn’t tell why Remmy was nervous and all at once she couldn’t remember if she’d ever been able to read Remmy well. Maybe what times she’d thought she had were lucky breaks. Maybe she hadn’t understood them at all, maybe even all the times she thought she was helping she was really just-- Morgan wrestled her sense around the thought and stopped it before it could get any further. She did not have any comforting truths to anchor herself with, besides that Remmy was here and there was at least a fifty-fifty chance this going to be okay. It did not soothe her very much, so she counted her senses down from five as she nodded along to Remmy’s words. “Sure. Um, the back porch? There’s lots of wildflowers growing there now. We can--yeah, we can sit out there?” She started leading the way, pinballing her attention to as many sights and sounds as she could so she didn’t go off the rails. She sat down at the edge of the porch bare feet on the grass, knees pulled up to her chest. She looked up at Remmy, still coiled tight in themself like a spring. She wanted to reach out to them, or to reach out and muss their hair, give them a hard time about something stupid. But she couldn’t tell what they really wanted. So she looked up at them, searching, silently pleading for a hint, and waited.

Remmy wasn’t always decent at reading emotional situations, but something inside of them always felt as if they had an inherent understanding of another person’s needs in times like this. But now, as they watched Morgan flit and fiddle on their way to the back porch, they found themself lost as to what to do. As to what she needed. As to if they could even give it to her if they tried. At a loss, they scooted forward and sat next to her, trying their best to not fall directly into a springboard of explanations. They didn’t know what to offer first, arms folding into their stomach as they leaned forward, picking at spots on their knees. The silent plea of Morgan’s look hadn’t gone beyond them. But how could they tell her what they needed when they didn’t know themself? They’d convinced themself they’d never get this moment, and so they hadn’t prepared for it. Jax had taken all hope from them, little by little, until he knew they were nothing but a broken mess. And when something else had given them hope, he’d broken that, too. Made them break it. Their hands shook as they remembered seeing his blood on their palms, red and dirty and smeared. They closed their eyes to try and make it go away, but all they saw behind them was the floor of that cage, the multitude of bars standing between them and Nell. The fence of the arena. Jax’s sharp eyes from the other side.

Remmy snapped their eyes open and looked over at Morgan. “Are you mad at me?” they finally asked, still unable to hold her gaze. Shame and guilt wrought through their body as they curled into themself, making themself as small as possible. Taking up as little space as possible. “I-- it’s okay if you are. I haven’t exactly been...a good friend lately. Or a good-- anything. And I-- I understand if you are. If you don’t--” but their voice caught and they couldn’t finish because the fear of the answer was almost as great as their fear of the cage.

“W-what?” Morgan’s look turned into one of confusion. “I’m not the one who-- You hit me. You hit me and you yelled at me and you wouldn’t talk to me and you left me and--” She stopped, trying to swallow back tears. “You said it wasn’t my fault, okay, but am I supposed to believe that when you wouldn’t explain and you won’t even look at me. And I’m right here and--” Her efforts were not going very well. She scrubbed her hand over her eyes. It all still hurt like new, just alluding to everything that had happened had microwaved the pain fresh again. “I think I’ve said the same thing every time,” she whispered. “I just want to be your friend, Remmy. I was just trying to be good to you and listen to you and I’m sorry if I did it wrong but it…it’s still the same stupid answer. I still do. How can you ask me a question like that? Shouldn’t I be asking you?” She heard her voice rising with exasperation and grimaced, digging her fingers into her knees. Tried again. “You don’t have to answer that. Just...talk to me, Remmy. At least tell me what you want. Just tell me and I’ll do whatever it is. Whatever it is this time, I’ll just do it, okay?”

“I-I know I did! That’s why-- that’s why I thought you were mad at me!” Remmy exclaimed, suddenly nervous, hands shaking. “I-- I was so cruel to you. I was-- terrible. I don’t-- I don’t want anything from you, Morgan, I just want to explain myself. Because I-- i owe you that much, don’t I?” They pressed their palms into their eyes, rubbing hard, before shaking their head and looking back up again. “I can’t look because I’m ashamed. I-- I gave up, Morgan. I gave up and I let them take me and I hurt a lot of people in the process, it--” they paused, trying to regain their balance on what they were trying to say. Or what they even needed to say. Nothing made sense in their head, words and memories a jigsaw puzzle spilled across the entirety of it. “It...the collar,” they pointed to it, “he put it on me after...the gargoyle incident. Um-- Jax. I-- I don’t know if Lydia told you about him. But he-- he tricked me into a promise and then he put this on me and he-- he used me. He took-- he took everything from me and when I finally had something back he just...he took more, and I--” they wrapped themself up and bent over, burying their head in their knees. “I don’t know anything anymore, Morgan. But I’m not mad at you, I’m not, and I’m sorry I hit you, I just didn’t want-- I couldn’t let you get hurt because of me. I couldn’t let that place get you, too.”

Morgan listened, heartbroken, as Remmy finally started to unload the terrible things they’d been carrying. They hadn’t been trapped for a week, it had been months of torture, and Remmy, in their sad, awful way, had been trying to protect them all. “Oh, Remmy…” She whispered, reaching out for them. “Hey. Hey....it’s okay. It’s okay, alright? You’re not there anymore, okay?” She placed her hand on Remmy’s arm, knowing they would barely feel it at all unless she squeezed, and bent her head down to be at their eye level if they would only look up at her. “I’m not mad. And you don’t have to be ashamed. You can look at me, okay? I’m right here. I’m still right here.”

Remmy stayed curled in on themself. They could still remember the pain of being torn apart, and they could still remember, vividly, the smell of their cell. The sound of water dripping. Voices just outside. Food just out of reach. And Ben. His soft, kind eyes. They could still see his dead body as they tore through him. Still see his blackened blood crusted on their hands. Remmy didn’t try to fight the tears that came but they swallowed sobs as they tried to claw their way up their throat. “I killed him,” they finally croaked, “I-- we found him and I killed him, Morgan. With my own two hands. I saw him and I tore into him and I did it because I-- because I wanted to. Not because I had to or because I needed to, I did it because-- because he’d taken so much from me and I just...I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to know how I felt.”

Morgan moved her hands up to cradle Remmy’s tired head. “Good,” she said. “I know you’ve never wanted to hurt anybody. I know you are kind and you want to be better than that, and that taking a life is awful. But if anyone had earned their death that night, it was him. He deserved what he got after what he took from you and I’m not sorry he’s gone or that you did it. Fae or not, I’m glad you gave him hell. You can feel however you want about it, Remmy, but I’m not going to guilt you about it.” She combed her fingers through their hair, dragging through the roots so they might feel it. “I’m sorry he put you in that place to begin with, that he took from you, that he drove you that deep into the pit. But I still love you, Remmy. You’re still a kind person and I still love you.”

Remmy broke. They couldn’t hold it in anymore. They’d thought that perhaps they’d broken inside that cage, but it wasn’t true. In there, they’d just given up. They hadn’t truly broken, even when their fist had torn through Ben’s chest and ripped out his heart. There had been something left inside of them, but now it was all pouring out. So suddenly, so wildly. Overwhelmed with the choices they’d had to make and the things they’d had to do, Remmy couldn’t hear Morgan’s words without feeling a hole rip into their heart. How could they be good after everything they’d done? How could their hands be gentle when they’d done so much violence? Remmy folded, crumpled, leaned into Morgan and sobbed. Loud, and painful, and strained. Crying for all the things they’d lost in there, and for all the people they’d lost along the way. A wail not unlike the one they’d let out in the arena, bent over their friends’ dead body. They couldn’t hold onto it anymore, onto the strength that kept them standing. There was still so much distance between them and Morgan and they didn’t know how to cross the gap, how to close it up. They couldn’t reach the otherside anymore. “I didn’t want to,” they managed to say through their grief, “I didn’t want to do any of it. I never wanted any of it. I just wanted to feel better. I just wanted to be better.”

Morgan caught Remmy as they fell into her arms. She bundled her arms around them close, crushing their body against hers. Stars, they had gotten so thin, so hard. How badly had they been starved? What other kinds of torture had they been put through? Morgan tucked Remmy’s head into the crook of her kneck and pressed one hard kiss to their hair. “I’ve got you now,” she said. “And I know, Rem, I know you’d never. You’d never want that, that’s not who you are. And you don’t have to anymore, not ever. You don’t, okay? You’ll find a real way to ‘better.’” She dug her fingers into them, tight enough that they were sure to feel it, tight and heavy and safe. (Oh Earth, how long had it been since Remmy had felt safe?) She repeated her words over and over and variants of the same theme. She didn’t know how much Remmy could even hear over the tide of pain moving through them, but maybe the meaning of it, the intent, could pass through her and into Remmy like magic and skip all of the worries and insecurities between them.

How were they supposed to explain all of this to Morgan? Where were they even supposed to start? Remmy leaned into Morgan and let their head rest in her lap, bones creaking as they went. And despite the collar no longer functioning, sometimes they swore they could still feel its pulses. Like ghosts under their skin. Haunted by something they’d longer for. They needed to stop crying, they needed to get themself together. They needed to be able to explain everything to Morgan, because she deserved it. She deserved the whole truth. Sitting up slowly, they rubbed their hands across their face, trying to scrub away the tears and weariness and the shaking in their bones. Fingers curling into skin. “I-- I need to tell you,” they said as evenly as they could, voice wavering, “I need to tell you the whole story. Please. I want you-- I need someone to know,” they swallowed, “I need someone to understand.”

Morgan tumbed away Remmy’s tears and brushed her fingers down their cheek. “You can,” she said gently, straining up to kiss their forehead. “I’ll listen, okay? But you can take your time too, Remmy. There’s no rush, and I’m not going anywhere. You can tell me however you need to.” She let her hands fall down towards theirs. She thought she could sense the pain these hands had endured, had carried in their fists. Had there been a better way to go about getting them free? A way that hadn’t left so many dead bodies behind? Morgan frowned as she thought. She would do it all again and maybe ask the universe to bring them worse if she had the chance. Their suffering wasn’t even close to balance next to what had happened to Remmy. “I want to know, too, okay?” She said softly. “I want to know everything you can tell me, Rem. However long it takes.”

“I killed him,” Remmy said, words tumbling out of their mouth like they no longer fit inside their throat. “I killed him because I-- I didn’t want to die.” Their hands shook as they looked at them and all they could see was the dark brown and red of Ben’s blood. The bright, angry red of Jax’s blood. The blood of all the creatures they’d slain on their way out and the blood of all the creatures they’d slain thinking somehow the violence was alright. They’d chosen that path again, after everything they’d said. They’d chosen the path of violence because it was a familiar feeling and familiar place. And it had destroyed them, yet again. When would they stop? Why couldn’t they stop? “He made me kill him. I-- there should’ve been more of us...that got out. He should’ve been able to be free again, too, but I--” they clenched their fists, tight enough to press imprints into their palms. “Jax made me fight another prisoner, and I--” they choked, “I killed him. He was like me and I killed him.”

“It’s okay,” Morgan said, pressing her head to theirs. She didn’t know who Remmy was talking about, if this was some guard or some opponent in the ring. She grimaced bitterly because it had all started so stupidly, because Remmy just didn’t understand, didn’t trust their friends to talk to them about it first, or didn’t listen to the right people if they had. They had paid for it too many times over since, but Stars, things this bad were so much more cruel when they started out so simple, so easy to turn back until they weren’t. “You did what you had to. You survived, Remmy. You came back home. That’s what matters most. You survived, Remmy. If it was either do that and live or lay down and die again, I’m glad you picked your life.” She took their hands in hers, cradling them gently. “You made the choices you had to. And now that you’re free, you have the chance to make better ones. You can have more. It wasn’t your fault you had so few choices in there. It wasn’t; I hope you know that, okay?”

Survival wasn’t something Remmy had thought about in a long time. The base instinct of survival. Was that really what it had been? Survival? Had they chosen to survive over death this time? Were they once again the one left behind? No-- it wasn’t quite the same, was it. Remmy closed their eyes, tried to draw in a calming breath. It was the motion itself that gave them a small relief, a moment of calm. “I don’t-- I don’t know anymore. I should’ve-- I tried to listen to you but it was too late.” They looked at Morgan with a tired eye, one still empty. Their heart felt like a stone in their chest. “I’m sorry. For everything. I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or-- I was so angry because I couldn’t understand. I didn’t know what I was feeling and I-- I’m sorry,” they said, their voice hiccuping, “Please forgive me. I’m sorry I made you like this, I’m sorry.”

At Remmy’s look, Morgan’s eyes spilled over. “Yes,” she said, shaking them. “Yes, you should’ve. You should’ve told me, Remmy. You should’ve told me sooner! You shouldn’t have been there, putting yourself through that in the first place.” She pulled them back close again, squeezing tighter than ever. “You’re kind, Remmy, you’re a good, kind person and I still love you. And you don’t have to be sorry for what you did to me. You don’t, okay? It’s fine. It’s fine, okay? I forgive you.”

Remmy finally wrapped their arms around Morgan and let the next wave of pain rush through them, tearing apart their chest. “I never wanted this life for you,” they said into her shirt, “I wanted you to be happy. And I thought-- I thought I took that from you. I didn’t know what to do anymore, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t-- you were so far away and I didn't know how to reach you anymore.” They shook in her arms, finding stability in the stiffness of her body, the coolness of her skin a distant comfort. They shook their head. “Please don’t leave me like that again,” they murmured, “please. I need you. I know it’s-- I know it’s not fair to say that but I need you.”

“I know,” Morgan whispered, face pressed near their ear. “I did too. And it went away for a while, but that’s not all that happened, you hear me? It came back, and even if I’m not the same person who died, I’m still someone who loves you, okay? I love you so much, Remmy, and I won’t go anywhere you can’t get me back from. I want you to come get me no matter what, and I’ll be right here. I’ll be here with you no matter what. Because I need you too, you doofus.” She sniffled, hiccuping a sob. “I need my best friend too.”

“I’m sorry,” Remmy repeated again, no other words finding their way through the maze in their head. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I was mad. I was-- I was jealous and I took it out on you and I’m sorry.” Pressing closer, holding her tighter. Finger digging in, knowing they couldn’t really hurt each other. Knowing that Morgan truly was the only person that could understand how they felt. Knowing that she was the only person they could hold this close, to their body, their heart. “I won’t do it again, I--” but the word stuck in their throat and a flash of Jax’s face, his silver tongue, was all that replaced it. They clenched, shook their head. “You’ll stay? You’ll-- keep your word?”

Morgan felt Remmy clench and shudder in her arms. She bundled them that much harder against her, squeezing as if she could wring all the pain out and leave them with just gentleness inside. She squeezed Remmy until she felt one of their ribs give way beneath her arms and even then, she held them. The promise binds Jax, the ones Lydia had worked to undo. Stars, she couldn’t even promise them anymore. What else had been stolen from Remmy? “Yeah,” she whispered shakily. “I’ll keep my word, okay? I mean it. I swear--I--I just will. Believe me that I will. I’m in this with you, Remmy, as long as you’ll let me.”

Their bones could bend and stretch, but never break. Maybe it was an obvious metaphor, but Remmy couldn’t help but think about how that was the same as the bond between them. They’d thought they’d lost Morgan for good, but after everything that had happened between them, it was obvious, now, that what they had could only bend or stretch, never break. And so they let her hold them so tight their bones bent, and they took in her words and kept them safe in the place in their head where nothing could touch them. “I believe you,” they said after a quiet moment passed, “I believe you.”

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: morgan #morgan #bent but not broken #death cw

8 notes · View notes

asleepyperson · 4 years

Text

fine line: the album (a commentary / best songs list)

disclaimer: I love every single song on this album. I will never not love them. I just happen to love some songs more than others.

Harry Styles is a mans. a mans who I adore. a mans I cherish. even more so since he released this beautiful masterpiece of an album that I still listen to at least 3 times a day. this is me finally externalizing my love for this album and its individual pieces of heaven i.e. songs.

1. Golden

an underrated queen. she’s beauty, she’s grace, she’s miss united states. nothing gets me up and bopping like this song and harry was nothing but CORRECT when he made this the intro to the album. a ride from beginning to end, albeit more a road trip down the coast than a roller-coaster.

favourite lyric: “You’re so golden. I’m out of my head and i know that you're scared because hearts get broken.”

2. To Be So Lonely

I can't explain it. it's just the vibe of the song. it's so up my alley and slightly different to his other songs, I really can't help but love it. that guitar or whatever it is throughout? the strumming? the violin (or cello?) before the bridge?? take all my money. if you think about it, it gradually gets a bit more dark as the song goes, which is so cool. and also yeah, I relate way too hard to this.

favourite quote: "do you think it's easy being of the jealous kind?"

3. Adore You

do I even need to explain this one.

favourite quote:"you don't have say you love me, you don't have to say nothing, you don't have to say you're mine."

4. Sunflower, Vol. 6

i actually feel like skipping through a meadow or a field of sunflowers, wearing a flower crown and and a yellow dress and strappy sandals and just being in the sunshine. it is everything good in the world poured into a 3:46 song.

favourite quote: "your flowers just died, plant new seeds in the melody."

5. Cherry

I know this is actually kind of a sad song but man how CUTE is this. I hope his ex listened to it and got only good vibes because you can tell that he really loved and appreciated this relationship. and yeah he's bummed that she's moved on but you can sort of hear the resignation? either way, cherry makes me want to be on a boat on a windy day with a milkshake in my hand.

favourite quote: "i just miss your accent and your friends. did you know I still talk to them?"

6. She

someone said 'woman walked so she could run' and I couldn't agree more. there's not even a specific setting this could be listened in but it's worth listening to anyway. and that guitar solo? whew chile.

favourite quote: "she lives in daydreams with me."

7. Falling

I know I know, it's lower on this list than most but hear me out! usually my favourite song on any album is the sad one and falling used to be my favourite. I still love this song too death, but I don't know if I overplayed it or it just doesn't hit the same now that I'm not in my feelings about a boy. doesn't matter anyway because this song is a masterpiece the whole way through, I have little to no complaints.

favourite quote: "I can't take it back, I can't unpack the baggage you left."

8. Fine Line

this is just a vibe. it's a pick-me-up without being too peppy, which is great when you just want to feel a bit better without using a lot of energy. and the VOCALS. falsetto all the way through, that's what I'm TALKING ABOUT.

favourite quote: "we'll be alright"

9. Watermelon Sugar

I love this song. I bop to this song. the only reason this song is so low is because I love the others a bit more, which doesn't diminish the love I have for this song. and I just KNOW the music video is going to give us what we deserve, and I don't mind being fed.

favourite quote: "i want your belly and that summer feeling, getting washed away in you."

10. Canyon Moon

this song is so cute. the way he sings moon has watered my plants. imagining domestic life with Harry is just *chefs kiss*. the HARMONIES. the FLAVOUR.

favourite quote: "I've been gone too long from you."

11. Lights Up

I live and breathe this song. this song sounds like if I was at a house party and I was high off of something so everything is moving in slow motion and everyone's on the dance floor swaying and there's like, strobe lights or something. or maybe I've been influenced by the music video, idk.

favourite quote: "all the lights couldn't put out the dark running through my heart"

12. Treat People With Kindness

again, just because she's last don't mean I don't love her. this is a song for when I'm ridiculously happy and want sunshine and rainbow stickers on all my possessions and I'm suddenly seized with the need to dress like it's the 80s. I love love love the message and I still want a tpwk hoodie but ya girl is broke. the only reason I put her last is because I'm rarely ever that happy so I'm rarely in the mood to shake my booty to this. once again, I still really love her and I think she deserves more attention and love from the stans in general, she's THAT song.

favourite: "and if we're here long enough, they'll sing a song for us"

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #fine line #golden #to be so lonely #adore you #watermelon sugar #lights up #cherry #falling #she #canyon moon #sunflower vol 6 #treat people with kindness #fine line album #hs #hs2 #onedirection #one direction

41 notes · View notes