#pool by samia

[spacesymbol]

anyone else ever think about drowning in media?

[ajdkn]

every time i listen to pool by samia my brain shuts off and i start levitating. idk what's in it but it just takes control of my body

[killherfreakout]

SAMIA Pool - Tiny Desk Concert

[driftwoodsix]

is it too much to ask?

samia // pool — the greeting committee // how long? — lizzy mcalpine // the elevator — samia // pool — sleeping at last // nine — lizzy mcalpine // all falls down — haley blais // body — samia // pool

[itsallhoney]

Swim by Alice Brasser // Pool by Samia

[halogen2]

is it too much to ask?

[farmlesbians]

pool by samia or pool by paramore

[beingharsh]

😵😓😵😓

[wavesmp3]

am attempting to write something again! so far we have: 

and ... ! : 

[ongaku-to-hito]

Samia - Pool

[kiyokostan]

my god that whole paragraph just gave me 500 points of psychic damage fr

your honor that is not love anymore that is DEVOTION. pure, raw, unfiltered, present and all consuming devotion....they love each other so much it makes my lungs hurt, they're so intertwined that their love itself has a pulse because it's so ALIVE!!!!!

'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke

chapter five | important

masterlist

note: ignore timestamps, nostalgic feelings, dialogue heavy towards the end

track five . . . amsterdam

Shinsuke always was a lover of the rain. Fervently enjoying the sound, the smell, the dark weather that came with it, and the growth that happened in effect. However, he found himself wishing he was back in the dry heat once more, dripping sweat in the field rather then where he was now. Drenched, down to his socks, and pushing his weight against a wrench to break a bolt loose. While he never complained, frankly he saw the good in everything, there was nothing wrong with not wanting to be soaked to the bone and struggling.

By now, he should've been almost done with his work day; but his schedule went right out the window from the storm. Normally, the man wasn't too keen on dial and changing things, but he wasn't too good to not offer assistance - especially with her. Even if that meant wet clothes at the end of his day and a cold in the near future.

Hands braced against a tire iron, he gave one last push - still nothing. A defeated sigh left him as he stopped, taking the tool in his hand as he and pulled himself to his feet. Previously on his knees, as to force as much of himself onto the tire iron as possible, water sloshed under him from his steps to stand. "I think the bolt's stripped, it's not moving at all." Brown eyes flickering down to the woman next to him; fully sitting down in the down pour, leaning against the driver's side of the truck, legs pulled up to her chest. It's wrong to think about her as much as I do, but god she's pretty.

His words made her groan loudly, exasperation taking center stage as she wiped the water from her face. She let her legs fall, now stretched out in front of her and rested her head against the old truck, a small thump when she did. "Can't say I'm surprised for a shit box," she sighed. He thought as if she would get up at the revelation; either try and do it herself or get in his truck with an anger he'd never seen before. But she stayed, sitting in the rain with her eyes closed, seemingly, without a single care. "The rain feels nice though, 'might just stay here forever."

"You'll get sick if you do," he reasoned, sighing, ever so gently through his words. She was stubborn, strong willed as an ox, a complainer, with a fuse dangerously short and words even shorter; but had a frightening disposition: gumption, confidence, and determination. Terrifyingly opposite, but drawn to her regardless.

"Then I'll cowboy up and get over it," shrugging his comment off with a hum afterward. As much as the man wanted to disagree, to urge her that she shouldn't sit there and let the rain pour down on her, a ghost of a smile pulled at his lips. His grandmother often taught him of hard work and reaping the benefits, a similar lesson she had been told through a different tune. He was taught to take a break when needed, to take care of one's self and goodness will come; she was told to keep pushing. The same lesson but ripped from a different cloth: hard work will always pay off. "Sit down."

Taken aback, his brows furrowed slightly, "in the rain with you?" Asking in a confusion riddled tone. I can't do this with her, I'm in over my head to begin with.

"Where else?" Asking as a wry smile pulled at her lips. He swore he felt his heart stop and his mouth go dry at the small action, an insignificant one at that. She's so beautiful. I might die right here and now. He knew there was a beauty to rain, but this was different in all regard. Dripping wet, droplets of water falling down her face every second he looked at her, and peaceful features despite the situation.

But he obliged all the same, a silent agreement as he sat next to her. He would do anything she told him; with her saccharine tone and a bittersweet smile, he would always turn into mush and wholeheartedly agree to, quite literally, anything. He kept a distance though, sitting towards the front of the cab while she was near the back. He didn't feel as water crept underneath him, too saturated from the last twenty minutes in a torrential downpour, but gravel shifted to expose mud. No longer solely wet, but muddy to boot.

"You ever play out in the rain when you were little?" She asked rhetorically, as he opened his mouth to speak but was cut off as she continued. "I used to tear through those fields in the rain, thinkin' I was a cowboy," a small chuckle leaving through her words. "Dad would be so mad when I came back inside all muddy, 'didn't wipe my shoes off or nothing. So, I'd just go right back out and he'd chase after me."

His smile pulled farther, a soft beam in return of her memories. "I don't think much has changed then, ma'am."

"Stop calling me ma'am, Shinsuke," an off kilter comment, but one that came from her easily. She turned to look at him, keeping her head against the cold metal of the truck. He lost his very breath when she locked eyes with him, and he swallowed hard as she gave him a sincere smile. I'm a dead man, I'm gonna' lose my job over her. "Too important of a title, save it for someone older."

"You are important though."

"Not really," she spoke with a shrug, a nonchalant attitude that replaced her former anger. "Being my father's daughter doesn't make me better than anyone, I work just like the rest." She defended, "you wouldn't call me ma'am if I wasn't."

"Sure I would," he argued, an, almost silly, chuckle leaving his lips at her statement.

"And why's that?"

There was a moment of pause, a second of thought before biting the bullet. The rain still poured, but he felt as if he couldn't feel it anymore as he looked at her. Thinking to himself that he'd never seen her more beautiful than she was right now. "Because you're important to me."

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @froyaoya

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna @aliensstolemyheart

[killherfreakout]

SAMIA Pool - Tiny Desk Concert

[warriorprincesstramp]

triptych / fit n full / pool / lasting friend

It’s always been hard for me to pass the Bechdel test in my personal life and in my writing without conscious effort. I wanted to stop punishing myself by denying that a good portion of the ingredients of my personality were characteristics and attributes I decided, based on empirical evidence or hearsay, men liked. I started likening it to a relationship with God, whose believers are fashioning a lifestyle around His commandments without being explicitly asked. - Samia

[itsallhoney]

Garden Song, Phoebe Bridgers // Pool, Samia // New Girl 03.03