I'm often loud in places where I should be quiet; I'm often quiet in places where I should be loud

[balsamandash]

I have spent more than six hours listening to slam poetry somehow? Relistening to the same things over and over for the most part, and I have no idea how this happened but I'm a little in love with some of them? (Especially this; I am listening to a lot of this guy's stuff but hoooly crap that one.)

I kind of want to give prompts now. Not necessarily all poetry prompts, but just... prompting people? This is putting me in the mood to prompt people.

... Uh, I guess that could turn this into an offer if anyone wants to take me up on it; comment here and I'll drop you prompts? Mostly quotes/lyrics, most likely?

I just like prompting people, okay, it pleases me.

Comments

[rootsofthestories]

The door shuts behind her and Natasha relaxes immediately. Her shoulders slump and she rests against the door, taking a deep breath.

Clint watches her and she knows he's worried but she doesn't say anything yet. She's tired and she can't entirely be bothered to comfort him just yet.

He walks over to her, putting his hands against her sides and tilting his head. "You okay?"

She just nods, offering a slight smile. "Yeah, I'm good."

He nods, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Okay."

Moving forward, she wraps her arms around him, pulling him close to her. "It's been a hell fo a day," she says quietly.

"Yeah," he agrees, putting hims arms around her. "Yeah it really has."

She sighs, relaxing a little more. "At least it's done."

"Yeah."

They don't say anything after that, just hold each other in the stillness of the farm, keeping each other close and offering silent comfort that the other clearly needs.