#can you tell I'm scared to post this

[shedoessoshedoes]

nobody loves me like you love me

Hi hello and welcome to me trying to write about a new ship in a new fandom 😱😱😱😱😱 it's really scary guys. This one's for Book Lovers by Emily Henry because I'm a slut for Charlie Lastra and for engagements. I hope you like it :) Tell me if you do!

wc: 2,753

tw: nsfw

tagging: no one yet bc idk who likes these books eep 🫣

The party’s almost over when Charlie pulls me aside. It was a raging success, celebrating the release of Frigid, Tala’s birthday, and Goode Books’s upswing all at once. Charlie and I flew into Asheville two days ago and are staying for another three; even though our lives are planted firmly in New York, our family is here, in Sunshine Falls, and there’s only so long I can go without seeing Libby, Brendan, and the girls and Charlie can go without seeing his parents. It’s still strange to wake up in a New York that Libby does not inhabit, but the transition was easier than I anticipated. My new job at Loggia helped, distracting me with a heap of manuscripts and a learning curve even a shark struggled to keep up with. When Charlie came back, he helped me, too, holding me when I’d break down after a call with Libby left me feeling a little too empty, taking me to get Thai when I felt like I had no one left for me in the city, and reminding me every day in that Charlie Lastra way of his that it was okay to make choices that are the best for me, not just best for everyone else. “Stephens,” he told me  frequently, “you don’t compromise on anything else. You negotiated this ending for yourself. Enjoy it.” 

I look over to him now, our hands intertwined as we wander through the meadow behind the cabin, where we’re staying for this trip (Charlie graduated from his racecar bed and although we love Libby’s Number Three, neither of us were interested in being up all night with the baby at her house) his capsule wardrobe looking as perfectly polished as ever, even in the June heat. He catches me looking and smiles the smile I love the most, the one that tells me he has a secret tucked up into the corner. “What?” he asks. 

“You know that these shoes aren’t made to go frolicking through a field, Charlie.” I tell him. “I’m planning a way to extract revenge.”

“Stephens, if you feel the same way at the end of this frolic, I’ll let you extract whatever revenge you’d like.” 

I mock gasp. “You’d let me publish Bigfoot erotica under your name?” 

He laughs, shakes his head, and looks over to me. “Yes, Nora Stephens. If you still hate me for taking you on this frolic by the time its over, I’ll let you publish whatever erotica you want. 

“You’re just saying that because Bigfoot secretly gets you off, aren’t you?” 

“Of course,” he tells me with mock seriousness. “There’s nothing sexier than Bigfoot and his big—” 

I slap my hand over his mouth as he laughs. “Don’t you finish that sentence, Charlie Lastra. You’ll damage my ego. I’m supposed to be the sexiest one in your life.” 

His eyes soften, and he does look serious now. “You are, Nora. You’re the most everything in my life.” 

I look away, fighting back tears. It turns out, after a decade of never crying, it’s hard to turn the waterworks off. I get emotional at everything now, from animal commercials (fucking stop laughing, Charlie, the cats are being abused), to the endings of new books (I still love the ones with realistic endings the best, but now I understand why Libby and Mom found them so hard to read), to Charlie Lastra making comments about Bigfoot erotica that somehow feel like so much more. 

We come up to the cabin and Charlie pulls me up to stand on the porch. “Do you remember the first time you saw me in this town? How much you hated me?” 

I laugh, nodding. “I didn’t believe it was actually you at first. I was convinced there must be some Charlie Lastra doppelganger, here to make my life miserable. I didn’t believe you would ever come here willingly.” 

“To be fair, I didn’t come here willingly. I was held against my will and without takeout for months, Nora.” 

I roll my eyes at him. “You know you would drop everything for your family the second they need something again.” 

He hums in agreement. “I think about those first few weeks we were here sometimes. How lucky we are that we ended up in the same room at the same time. How lucky we are that our families love us enough to let us negotiate a happy ending.” 

I understand, suddenly, what is about to happen. The breath punches out of me, and even though I knew this was coming, know what I’m going to say (even if I have to figure out a way to return the ring if it’s horrifyingly ugly), I’m suddenly so nervous that I start to shake. “Charlie,” I whisper. 

He smiles at me. “Nora,” he whispers right back. “Good?” he asks. 

“I think so,” I tell him, voice, body, soul trembling. 

“Good,” he tells me. “Ready?” 

I nod, the words already failing me. Feelings like this cannot be categorized. They cannot be put into boxes. Feelings like this balloon out and over every part of me until I’m consumed, until I feel them from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. 

“You’re perfect for me, Stephens,” he starts. “I think you already know that, but I want to tell you again. I love your nightmare brain. I love your nightmare body. I love your impractical shoes and your fancy underwear and your hour-long skincare routine.” 

“That skincare routine brings me a lot of joy,” I tell him through the tears that are already starting to fall. 

“I know. That’s why I love it. I love all the things you do to bring yourself joy. You spent so much of your life making sure everyone else was happy, Nora, and I’m so fucking proud that you’re able to make decisions now that make you happy. I love that I make you happy. I love your Peloton, and the bodega we go to every Saturday to get bagels, and I love that you wouldn’t leave New York for anything. 

“I love that I’m the only one that understands that you’re harsh because you care. I love that I can tell you things in my horrible, sarcastic way, and you’ll understand exactly what I mean. I love our apartment, and I love being in it with you every day. I love sitting next to you and neither of us talking, because we’re working, or reading, or just being, because we understand each other well enough to know that sometimes less words are more powerful than more.

“But mostly, Nora, I just love you. And I really would like to spend the rest of my life with you. I might want it even more than I want to move out of my racecar bed into Libby’s guest room.” 

“I knew you were just using me for my connections,” I say. He tilts one corner of his mouth up and gets down on one knee. 

“Charlie,” I gasp out, incapable of anything else, as he pulls out a small box. 

“I love you so much I even know that you want to pick out your own ring. So forgive me for offering you an empty box, but please, Nora Stephens, marry me. Let me spend the rest of my life contributing to our DINK lifestyle. Let me be easy for you in the best way possible. Marry me, Nora.” 

I crash to the floor onto my knees so we’re at the same height, cradle his face in my hands, and laugh through my tears. “Yes.” I tell him. “Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

“Yes?” he asks, as though he can’t quite believe this is real. 

“Yes,” I say to him again. “Yes, I love you, thank you for not making me wear an ugly piece of jewelry, yes, yes, yes.” I pull him to me, kissing him, but we’re both laughing too hard to kiss properly, so it’s more of us smiling against each other, foreheads pressed together, every piece of our bodies fitting together. 

Charlie pulls me on top of him so he’s laying on the porch. “Thank God you said yes. I still had a niggling worry that you were going to leave me for Shepherd.” 

“Charlie Lastra!” I exclaim. “How dare you think for a second that I would pick the hot small town farmer over the overworked city executive who has no life because, and I quote, ‘There’s always something too good to read.’” 

He rolls us so I’m laying underneath him. “Well, when you put it that way…” He kisses me again, long and slow and deep, and fuck, I’m so gone for this man. 

I break away, laughing. “Holy shit. We’re going to get married.” 

“I know,” he says, smiling wickedly. “How early is too early to start telling people my wife is a hot, kick-ass editor whose books crack the New York Times bestselling list every time they release?” 

“Mmm, you can brag about me anytime you’d like.” I reach up to kiss him, twining my fingers through his hair. “Mr. Lastra-Stephens.” He nearly chokes, and I pull back, searching his eyes. “Sorry, I know we haven’t talked about names, but–” 

“Shut the fuck up. Of fucking course I’m going to take your name. Fuck the patriarchy and all that. It’s just–” he rolls his hips into mine and I groan. “Really fucking hot to hear you talk like that. Excuse me for reacting.” He kisses my forehead, my cheek, my neck, and then looks back up at me. “Mrs. Lastra-Stephens. Or Stephens-Lastra. Whichever. Whatever. I don’t fucking care.” 

“Lastra-Stephens,” I decide. “It’s alphabetical.” 

He groans. “You really are my perfect woman.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t get me a ring.” I tell him as he rolls off of me so I’m pressed up against his side, my head resting on his shoulder. We’re still on the porch.

He looks down at me, quizzical. “Did you want me to?” 

“No.  I just thought,” I shrug. “You’d think it was weird I wanted to pick it out myself.” 

“Nora. You forget how well I know you. You forget how similar we are. I would want to pick out a piece of jewelry I’m going to wear for the rest of my life, too.” He kisses my hair. “But for the record, I would’ve picked a really good ring.” 

“Oh, yeah? What would it have looked like?” 

“Expensive. Classic. Hot. I’d just find one that reminds me of you, honestly.” 

I laugh, press a kiss to his shoulder. “I’ll let you have input when we pick one in the city, then.” 

“Good.” He leans down to kiss me, then, and this time, there’s more intention behind it. His tongue brushes against mine, and then I’m on top of him, pressing him back into the porch.

He sits me up, still kissing me, and then breaks away to press his forehead to mine. “No offense Stephens, but I’m not having hot engagement sex with you on my parents’ cabin’s front porch.” 

I laugh, climb off of him, and pull him up. “So hot engagement sex is on the table inside?” 

He gives me one of his Charlie looks then, one that tells me that obviously hot engagement sex is on the table inside. He unlocks the door as I press kisses down his neck. “Nora.” 

I smirk. “Charlie.” 

He has me up against the door the second it closes behind us, and then I’m tugging him upstairs. We tumble onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, Charlie on top and me underneath. He kisses me hard, presses me into the mattress, pulls my shirt up and tugs my pants off. When he stands up to take his own clothes off, I sit up on my elbows, looking at him. 

“What, Stephens? Regretting your decision already?” 

“You are,” I say, “ridiculously hot.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up. “I love you too, Nora.” 

Then he’s on top of me again, taking off my underwear, pressing his mouth to me, making me gasp and arch underneath him until I’m coming. He crawls back up me so we’re face to face. “Good?” he asks. I nod. “Keep going?” I nod again, and then he’s pressing inside of me, gasping, until we’re pressed together as tightly as we can be. 

“Fuck, Nora,” Charlie rasps, dropping his head to my shoulder. “We get to do this forever.” 

“I know,” I tell him, flipping us so I’m on top. “Aren’t you glad you got such a good catch?”

“Jesus–fuck–I just can’t believe all my wildest fantasies came true.” 

I hum in agreement and start to move, my stomach already tightening with the anticipation of what’s to come. He only lets me stay in control for a minute, and then rolls me back over to fuck into me slow and deep. I moan, and then I’m coming, clenching down around him, and I can feel him come, too. We stay locked together for what feels like hours before he pulls out and tugs me into his side. 

“Hi,” I say, looking up at him. 

“Hi,” he says back. “Mrs. Lastra-Stephens.” 

I groan. “Fuck, you’re right, that is really attractive.” 

He laughs. “I know, right? It’s almost like it brings out the inner Bigfoot-esque possessiveness we all hold within us.” 

I shove at him, rolling away as I cackle. “You did not just bring Bigfoot into sex.” 

He pulls me back, kissing my left ring finger and then pressing a kiss to my lips. “Of course I did, Nora. Bigfoot is what got us into all of this in the first place.” 

I laugh, thinking of those first texts in Sunshine Falls, of everything that came after it. 

“Did our frolic end well enough for you to convince you not to publish Bigfoot erotica under my name?” 

“Mmm, I don’t know.” I roll to lay on top of him. “Getting engaged to the love of one’s life isn’t quite a momentous enough occasion for me.” 

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“What if the love of one’s life did this?” He presses a finger into me, right where I need him, and I groan. 

“One might be able to be persuaded.” 

He keeps going, then, until I’m gasping and begging and telling him that of course I won’t publish anything under his name, and then he’s back inside of me, moving until we both tumble over the edge. 

Afterward, we sit on the bed and plan our wedding. We’ll have it in the city, and I already know how I’ll ask them to rearrange Freeman’s Books so we can have our ceremony there, amongst the books that kept me alive, the books that brought us together. We’ll go to our favorite restaurant afterwards, and drink and eat and dance all night. We’ll only invite our immediate family; who else do we need besides Libby and Brendan, Sally and Clint and Carina? I’ll wear a simple dress: long, white, and in Charlie’s words, really fucking hot. He’ll wear the suit that’s already a part of his wardrobe. God forbid he buy new clothes to only wear them once. Our rings will be gold, and they won’t be flashy. Neither of us are trying to prove how much we love each other or how rich we are with these rings. After, we’ll go back to our perfect apartment, and have romantic, dreamy, slow sex. We’ll wake up each morning after that belonging to each other a little more than we did the day before, intertwining our lives until we’re able to live our ending forever. There will never be kids, but there might be a cat. There will always be fights, and there will always be peace after that. There will be love and trust and respect, and I’ve never been so grateful for this man sitting beside me than I do in that moment. 

“I love you,” I tell him for what must be the tenth time tonight, as we’re starting to fall asleep.  

He tugs me into a hug. “I don’t think we could have written a better ending.” 

“No,” I agree, “we couldn’t have. It’s too real to be written.” 

Charlie hums in agreement, and we fall asleep like that, my head on his shoulder, one of his legs in between mine, my hand on his chest, his hand covering mine. It’s perfect. It’s better than anything I could have thought up. 

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Yay!! thank you so much for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments and constrictive criticism is always welcome. My asks are open: let me know what you want me to write!!

[deoidesign]

"what do hands mean about a character?"

Their hands mean they love eachother

(webcomic)

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

What actually broke me about chapter 104 of the manga is that when Mina was about to die, she didn't say she was captain of the Third Division of the Defense Corps.

No, she apologized for not being capable of doing it alone (exterminating all kaijus) and for being a sorry excuse of a vice-commander to Kafka.

It's so telling that everyone wanted to reach Mina because she was their goal (be like her, work with her, open a path for her, surpass her), but all that time Mina was waiting for the boy that wanted to be by her side, no further or behind. Right beside her. The cold persona was a deflection because she was so scared, so traumatized. She was the freaking face of the Defense Corps, the hero all admired, she had to be perfect, undefeatable, she couldn't allow anyone to die on her battlefield.

Doesn't it remind you of Kikoru trying to be the perfect kaiju killing machine? Of Reno trying to be the most powerful ever to protect Kafka?

Mina's last words were almost "I don't want to die alone, Kafka".

There's a point where the prodigies of the Defense Corps stop being people and start being weapons themselves. When all that matters are numbers of drivesuit strength or the impact of their fight or whatever. There's a point where you're leading the rookies to sacrifice themselves to the cause and be in the spotlight, even if for a brief moment.

But Kafka is the changing factor.

He tells them to fall back. He protects them and uses himself as a shield for them. Kafka can be the first person in their lives that is not trying to steal the fame from them, just trying to support them, to save them, to stand by their side.

Kafka makes them realize the value of their own lives. He doesn't make them feel bad for needing help, he makes it seem natural. Even like they are doing him a favor for waiting for him, for allowing him to help. In truth, Kafka would have aspired to be anyone's hero and see everyone as incredibly cool. Human connection, friendship, camaraderie, call it whatever you want but you're gonna root for the loser guy and want him by your side.

Mina has a lot of issues she hides in order to not trouble anyone else, but before Kafka joined the Defense Corps, no one saw her as who she truly is. Just Mina. Not Captain Ashiro, not a prodigy, those are parts of her that Kafka adores, but yet she's Mina. Just Mina.

The girl with unrealistic expectations. The girl that cried because her calico cat died on a kaiju attack. The girl that would make fun of Kafka, but would feel reassured by his words. Deep inside, she's still Kafka's vice-commander, she's waiting for him to lead them, to support her, to run with her, to tell her that they can win, they can do it, everything will be okay.

He'll always keep going to play that role for her.

[xxxcoffinz-aeztheticzxxx]

Tv Zeriez Teacherz moodboardz!! (Tw: Cigarettez, general imagery of death, antz, and teeth)

(Zorry theze took zo long lol 0_0)

[unicornpopcorn14]

Hc that every time Chuuya is bandaged he's reminded of Dazai and hates it.

And back when they were working together Dazai is always overly excited about it not only because Chuuya detests it, but because finally, he isn't the only one who's gonna be sweating bullets due to the friction, he isn't the only one whose movements are considerably restricted, he isn't the only one seen as a 'poor kid' and taken pity on in the eyes of the public/their enemies, even if only for a handful of missions.

And Dazai will tease him about it, every damn time, poking fun at Chuuya's weak tolerance whenever he complains about them, about why Dazai even does this shit when 'he has no good reason'.

"But, slug!! We're matching!!"

"That's the worst part, I'm associated with a freak!"

But that makes way for an interesting scenario, where the roles are reversed. Where Chuuya, wrapped up in bandages courtesy of a recent mission, comes across a Dazai who's not (due to an attempt, perhaps, or they've been taken from him one way or another).

And Chuuya sees it for the first time, Dazai's wide-eyed vulnerability, him drawing into himself, the faded look in his eyes, like something vital has been removed from his body, much more than an organ or a nerve.

For the first time, they aren't matching when Chuuya is swathed in gauze.

So Chuuya begrudgingly offers his, slightly bloody and crumpled, because he hates being wrapped up in them anyway.

Though he can't help but wish to be encased in bandages more often from then on, just so he can understand, perhaps share, some of that pain...

[drieddpetals]

jesper: *in the bathroom getting ready in front of the mirror*

inej: *walks in and starts flexing in the mirror* "i'm literally so buff—"

jesper: "OH MY GOD WHERE DID YOU COME FROM"

inej: *unaffected, still flexing* "look how jacked i am"

jesper: *still recovering* "...😦"

[uncanny-tranny]

I love giving advice, apparently, so if you are a newly pierced person or are planning on being pierced, here are some of the things I found helpful, as somebody who isn't a professional piercer but has had six plus piercings on my face and body, and multiple ear piercings (which I don't count, since I DIY'd them):

Normal bath towels are your enemy, proceed with caution after bathing. NEVER wipe moisture away from a fresh piercing, always pat it dry

You will hit a new piercing and it will hurt. This is inevitable, just know that you likely haven't destroyed it. Feel free to cry, though, it hurts like hell.

If your piercer gives you instructions, heed them. If you're on restrictions, please take it as seriously as possible

When you're going in for a piercing, please eat or drink something - at least what constitutes as a snack for your body. It really helps

If you're getting an oral piercing, make sure you size down after the healing period - I hadn't sized down for my last oral piercing when I first had the chance, and it was... so annoying to have too-large of jewelry

Not all jewelry is made equally. Do your research on materials, threading, and sizing. I've found that titanium jewelry is really nice for me, and I like it, but that isn't the only option. Make sure you think about your body and its needs and preferences

Close your eyes while being pierced (I found this really helps me)

Don't over-clean a new piercing, twice per day is usually a good place to start

The completed healing period is a very average suggestion - you may heal slower or faster. Try to adhere to that suggestion, though, especially if you do not feel you're healed enough

Personally, I have found that I am completely healed when my piercing feels like just another part of my body, even when it is touched. When my piercings start to feel as though they are foreign when they never do before, I know I likely need to clean them

While I have DIY'd piercings, I personally do not recommend it, especially if you are either not using sterilized equipment, or are piercing a very dangerous place (like the tongue). If you are absolutely positive about committing to the DIY mindset, please try to do due diligence in research at least

Tip your piercer. Body mods are a luxury service, and it takes years to even become a piercer, much less to be proficient at it. Tip your piercer, ESPECIALLY if their prices feel too good to be true - they likely are. Unless you are directed otherwise by your piercer, just assume that you will be tipping them for their services and budget accordingly

Make sure you understand how your piercer wants you to take care of your piercing, and ask questions. There is no question too "dumb"

If you are getting a body part pierced you are insecure about, realize your piercer has most likely seen HUNDREDS of different body parts of various sizes, shapes, and oddities. Your body is not uniquely bad, nor would a good piercer make you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable with your body. If they do, however, DO NOT go through with the piercing. You should feel safe being pierced by somebody, and, indeed, that is the bare minimum.

If you use saline wash to clean piercings, you can DIY it. You will go through NeilMed like no other, and with it being $5USD a bottle, that price can rack up quickly. Make sure you use distilled water and non-iodized salt, though

If your piercing is infected, please don't be too ashamed to seek help. It's in your best interest to make sure you don't get ill or your site gets nasty ("nasty" as in painful)

These are just some of the things I've learned being a pierced person! My piercings are something I absolutely needed, and I do not for a minute regret having them. I want that same happiness to befall you, and that happens when you are able to understand a bit more what goes into piercings. You are, essentially, getting a new body part installed by a pro, and so I don't want you to not be ready for that.

Again, I am not a professional piercer, but am rather a body piercing enthusiast with many different types of piercings. I don't have every piercing, though, so please look at this critically for the piercing(s) that you want or have. At least, treat this like a soft suggestion or ways to help you brainstorm what you will find helpful.

More tips are obviously welcomed, especially if you yourself have more insight or expertise. Good luck to every pierced person or future pierced person reading this💛

[wackysach]

some very very very messy study stuff.

[laugtherhyena]

You guys should know i sketched this imediately after that pride month shitpost

[capricioussun]

If you've ever replied to a post and I haven't replied to you just know if I saw it I nodded sagely and then either meant to reply and completely forgot or just had nothing interesting to add. We can all hold hands and be friends on this beautiful earth

[itsamenickname]

Luigi: *thinks* Don't be intimidated Luigi. Try to imagine him in his underwear.

Bowser: *literally 5 seconds into the interrogation*

Luigi: *starts mentally hyperventilating* OH NO, HE'S HOT!!!

[acquiescest]

irt the lrb what would you say if i said liam & noel spent new years 2023 together in paris

what would you say if i said liam bought the house in france (the one with noel's name carved into the walls) in march 2023 and that month noel talked about wanting to spend several months in paris

which could mean nothing

[thelivingsin]

it's normal to be disappointed when you learn that your dreams are already dead. but just like a phoenix, our death will lead us to our own rebirth; and like a supernova, some deaths are beautiful.

[seventh-district]

Could've left me just the way you found me, but you came and put your wings around me. You went out of your way, to fix what you didn't break.

This song is so incredibly Sam & Darlin' coded and no one can tell me otherwise.

[lots of lyrical analysis below the cut] [there's also a short little fanfic blurb of them stargazing down there too (this post got really out of hand lmao)]

For those not fully caught up, note that the following commentary contains various spoilers for Sam and Darlin's stories.

Note: Unfortunately this song is gendered, using the word 'girl' several times. Which sucks a little bit for immersion purposes, not only for keeping Darlin' gender-neutral, but also because I see this song as a duet between them, and Darlin' obviously wouldn't be addressing Sam with the word 'girl' either. So! As with most songs on their playlist, we're just gonna mentally omit any gendered terms we come across.

Side note: Frustratingly, this is one of those songs that didn't really even need to gender the subject in the first place. No part of the story or message is lost without it. But alas, many songs are like that, and so the playlist-makers of the world shall continue to suffer. [/lh]

Anyways, preamble's over. It's lyric time now yay!

Sam's Part

I was a ten-year train wreck

Technically for Sam I suppose it was 13 years, but ten is close enough (and 'ten' admittedly flows a lot better in the rhythm of the song than 'thirteen' would.) Anyways, we're not here to split hairs, (I have to remind myself), we're just here to point out similarities.

In Sam's Dec. '22 HBW, he says "For the last 13 years or so I haven't had to care too much about how I look. Seemed a little redundant after turnin', considerin' I didn't wanna be around much'a anybody anyway."

I think he's mentioned or alluded to that roughly 13 year period of time more than once, but that's the one I remember best so it's the example I'm using. There's still about 4 Sam audios I've yet to listen to as of making this post, so if I'm missing some Key Lore I'll edit this later. But for now, I don't think Sam has given many specifics on exactly how bad things got during that time. Luckily, 'train wreck' is a pretty broad and subjective term, so it easily covers any degree to which he may have fallen apart during those years.

It also feels like a very 'him' way of quickly brushing over the details of his past/his hurt, as he seems to tend to do with Darlin', (not all the time ofc but it's still something I've noticed) putting his own hurt on the backburner to prioritize and attend to theirs. Even outside of his dynamic with them, I think as a healer, it's something he learned to do. And now he does it with everyone. Put on a brave face, compartmentalize things and unpack them later, etc. I could go on and on but there'll be time for that in other posts I'm sure. For now, lets get back to the song at hand.

With a last-call longneck

Due to personal reasons, I've yet to decide if I want to HC him as having used alcohol as a coping mechanism during that time. I don't recall him having mentioned alcohol much, if at all, (maybe one mention of whiskey that I don't have time to find right now) so I don't think it's necessarily canon that he did, but it's certainly possible. My personal preferences aside, I'll admit it makes for some good additional angst. (And- self-indulgently- it makes some other songs on my playlist for them more fitting.) So, for the sake of this song, let's imagine that he did.

I was searchin', I'd been hurt real bad

This one feels pretty self-explanatory given what Alexis did, (and, if you wanna get even angstier with it, whatever his family did earlier on in his life) so there isn't much commentary to add on my end.

I HC that in spite of 'not wanting to be around anybody', he- like Darlin- still had a tiny part of himself buried deep down that was, in a way, 'searching' for someone to find solace in. (No this isn't me projecting onto them both haha what are you talking about-)

Movin' on, gettin' sidetracked One step forward and five back

This is generally applicable enough that I don't feel the need to give too much of a specific example. Anyone who's recovered or is recovering from trauma knows this non-linear, back-and-forth struggle well already, and I'm sure he was no stranger to it.

If I were to give some examples though, I could point to Darlin's (and subsequently, Sam's) encounter with Alexis at the summit, or the shit that Quinn dredged up about Fredrick and threw at Sam in the interrogation room. Those are both more recent examples and I imagine these lines of the song to be coming from a place of him prior to meeting Darlin', but still, they're some instances where I'm sure he felt like the past was pulling him back in. I'm sure that there's been many throughout those 13 years that we were never witness to.

Not your fault, I was scared to fall

This line reminds me of their 'Cuddles and Confessions' audio. I don't think he ever explicitly said he was 'scared' per se, so afaik there's no specific line I can quote, but in that and every audio prior, he was obviously hesitant to admit, perhaps even to himself, that he was gradually falling for them. Even after the initial confession, there's certain limits of his (e.g. biting) that he carries for far longer, and some that I (and others) HC that he'll carry forever. So this line feels to me like him reassuring Darlin' that his reluctance isn't the fault of them, but his past.

Darlin's Part

You were the star in the pitch black Shine the way on the way back

We don't have any canon instances of them comparing Sam to a star, but I can see it being something they'd say (perhaps less poetically, but the sentiment would be there) one night while laying up on their roof watching the stars with him. Maybe they're dead-tired, talking nonsense with lidded eyes at the end of a long day, fighting sleep in favor of more time spent with him.

"What- what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Their hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in their line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above them. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow their less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', their pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along their arm, he takes their hand in his and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." They say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." They nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting them. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

They scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh into their hair. "No- no I mean- like... what's another name for it... Oh! It's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but they cut him off before he can start. "But no- no, this one isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in their overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Their frown is audible in their voice as they latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at their over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, darlin', I promise."

They huff, but thankfully shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention. I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...There you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places 'n people I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, surrounded by the ghost of him. You outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me back home."

In the back of their mind, they recall something they once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can see a star that's already burnt out, because it's light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

They remember Sam's words, once whispered to them on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

They think about dead stars.

They think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand slides up their forearm, pulling them out of their thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

They look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

They reach out, pulling him down into them. Burying their face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear their words, muffled against the thick fabric, but his hearing catches it just fine.

"Don't burn out too quick. Please. I still need you here. I don't- I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

.......Whoopsies! Really, genuinely didn't mean to improv an entire scene there, good god. Also didn't mean to swerve hard into angst at the end but uh. that's what came out! so I'm rolling with it lmao. Aaanyways let's move on, it's getting late and this is a song analysis post, not a fic.

Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers

'Out of nowhere' reminds me of Sam's words from the same HBW video I referenced earlier. "You came into my life like a damn wreckin' ball. There was no preparing for that, clothing or otherwise." While those were Sam's words, not Darlin's, I still feel like they feel similarly to how suddenly Sam came into their life as well. (Not in a bad way, mind you!)

[the significance of 'answered all my prayers' edges into my own personal more headcanon-y/personal/OC-ified Darlin' territory, so we can just gloss over this one for the sake of at least attempting to keep this more universally applicable]

Picked up the towel that I threw in Took in a heart that was ruined

Again, largely self-explanatory I feel. (*proceeds to explain anyways*) I imagine that Darlin' was at the point of throwing in the towel, hellbent on a solo-mission to find Quinn regardless of the danger it posed to them. I doubt they were looking toward the future anymore, (to reference Sam,) fully willing to throw themself at their problems until they really did break.

The specific use of 'ruined' hits hard here, because after everything they went through with Quinn, and especially after he recounted it all to Sam in that interrogation room, I imagine that they really, truly did feel ruined.

Showed me the past ain't a tattoo Loved me even when you didn't have to

These lines in particular make me sick with emotion every time I hear this song, because I feel like they hit the nail on the head for how Darlin' feels.

I'll be here citing various quotes all night that I feel showcase that sentiment, but we don't have time for that! So instead I'm just pointing to the entirety of 'Quinn's Aftermath' video, and leaving you with this single quote from it.

"Everything that he said reflects nothin' on you, and everything on him."

Equally Applicable Lines

And I don't know why Why you saw something in me, baby But you saw right through All the pain, and you came and saved me Yeah, I know you didn't leave me lonely Weren't the one that put the heartbreak on me Picked up the pieces It wasn't the mess that you made Could've left me just the way you found me But you came and put your wings around me You went out of your way To fix what you didn't break

Again, I think these lines are all pretty self-explanatory, and are just as accurate coming from either one of them. To me, at least, their entire dynamic is that they saved each other, in their own ways.

(But I will admit, the final verses about 'going out of your way to fix what you didn't break' are definitely conjuring up memories of Sam in the early days, literally going out of his way to visit and heal Darlin' after their fight with the two vamps. In general, his continued/repeated healing of them after they once again hurt themselves is the very literal definition of fixing what he didn't break.

But! While we may have more blatant examples of Sam being 'the fixer' so to speak, I think he'd argue that Darlin' has done plenty fixing of their own. Physical wounds aren't the only things that need healing, after all.)

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[shameless self-promo of my Sam & Darlin' playlist for those few of u interested enough to make it to the very end of this wall of text. if u liked this then u might like some of the other songs on there soooo maybe go check it out and maybe perhaps give it a follow so i can get a little serotonin boost or dopamine or whatever the chemical is that's released when Number Go Up. ...okay that's it i hope u enjoyed my fixation-induced ramblings! thank u and goodnight]

[nulfaga]

johanson pilate...that's the post

[vulpinesaint]

man i see that little smile. you know he was so proud