#quote by ethel cain this time

[seithennyn]

[ramblingsfromthytruly]

praying i'd be like you

doing all of the things that you do

and i still do

and that scares me

[crush-echoes]

too tired to move

too tired to leave

(bleeding whenever you want)

hard times - ethel cain

[cherriescherie]

"9 going on 18 lay it on me"

[faglicent]

[blackvelvetofnight]

okay The Lodge (2019) is such a compelling movie for me. I understand many people didn't like it and found it frustrating but I think it touches on a subject that is so unnerving and deeply tragic: (spoilers from hereout, tw religious trauma, gaslighting, suicide)

taking a kind loving person who is processing their trauma, they're doing the work they're really trying, being psychologically tormented for the naive cruelty of children who they themselves are in the grips of their own grief over their mother taking her own life. her complete unravelling throughout being trapped in the lodge, being gaslight and harmed by literal children who discovered her 'dark past' and using her as a lightning rod for their anger. the children are absolutely the antagonists of the movie but within that there is a certain point where they realize they've taken it too far (the kneeling on the log scene gives me chills) and try to backtrack, but at that point it's too late. like all children they have only a one dimensional idea of how deep and festering the wound of her past is and in intentionally activating her traumatic memories sealed their own fate.

and it's not an easy fall, she fights it she really does but the torment does not relent, the real and imaginary. there is something so horrifying about a person, a good person, who is being manipulated past and present succumbing to their trauma and who had been firmly the victim, becoming the danger. 'I thought good guys got to be happy, I'm not happy, I'm poison in the water'

[coffeebooksandmore]

A poetry book I’ve reread so much that I feel like the words are tattooed on my skin

coffeeandbookss

[queens-of-saigons]

boardwalk empire 5x03 - "what jesus said" + ethel cain - sun bleached flies

[a1m05t-en0ugh]

[girlquoted]

Even the iron still fears the rot

- Ethel Cain

[fromdarzaitoleeza]

The right person, the wrong time ......The right script, the wrong line .......... The right poem the ,wrong rhyme ...And a piece of you, that was never mine.

{Quotes: Sanctificum , Chris Abani/uk/Clementine von radics/Ash vernon/How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful - Florence + the Machine / Explosions - Ellie Goulding / Michelle Pfeiffer - Ethel Cain, lil aaron / Heavy - The Marías/can I tell you a secret -rita/u.k/ photos: Pinterest}

Web weaving about "when you are the one who is always being left in the end".

[n0eyed-taissa]

yellowjackets season 3 trailer takeaways/theories/observations/questions:

time jump: season 2 was firmly set in the winter and it looks like the bulk of 3 will be set in the spring (with some flashes to the Deep Winter)

how much time has passed & how did they manage to comfortably survive post-fire?

i think this time jump & whatever happened during the in-between time will explain how and why the girls seem much more deranged than they did.

they gave in to desperation and its circumstances, so nothing is really 'taboo' anymore. gimme scary evil cannibal lesbians pls

even shauna's narration references the fact that the girls "went completely nuts" out there

allusions to The Hunt: while i know most folks think mari has always been Pit Girl, i think her running in the trailer is a red herring.

this WILL, however, be what sets up the hunt and its rules/functions/the course

(because to ME, it has always looked like a cleared/intentionally set path, with s1ep1 showing their hand-made adornments hanging from the surrounding trees )

mari is 100% wearing the dress/nightgown that s1ep1 Pit Girl is.

tiktok fans have been theorizing that perhaps based on the rules of the hunt, mari will survive whatever the hell is about to happen to her while still later meeting Pit Girl's fate in the winter, but who's to say

"cant believe we didnt eat that bitch first" - says the one with the big brown eyes like a baby mf cow. she just wants to snack on her friends!

(y'all saw that part where shauna is biting and restraining mari, right?)

power struggle: it looks like there are going to be factions splitting up, or the girls will continue to show alliance to a particular 'leader'

van, misty, mari, akilah, and either New Gen or robin? potentially in support of lottie's leadership and connection to the wilderness?

them vs Everyone Else, who seems more focused on practical survival

coach ben seeing the snare trap and probably wondering if it was for a person or for an animal

(i didnt know what a snare was so i truly needed to google 'animal trap that looks like a n**se but isnt. sue me!)

shauna locking herself in a freezer because it was the only way she could talk to jackie. putting yourself into dangerous situations in hopes of manifesting the ghost of your lover? okay bella swan in new moon!

jackieshauna being connected by coldness, both emotionally and physically.

from the meat shed to the freezer, jackie taylor's ghost will never escape the ethel cain parallels!

theres probably someone out there in the world who wants to smash the man with no eyes, huh.........dont answer that actually.

taissa's grown out hair makes little tiny magical hearts float all around my head. wow. just wow.

are the yellowjackets going on a field trip in the wilderness together? where tf is natalie and did she find coach ben's hidey hole?

the envelope being addressed to shauna shipman and not shauna sadecki makes me think its from a person with ties to the wilderness, pushing the secret 8th survivor theory (perhaps hilary swank as adult Melissa CoolHat)

i WANT this ritual scene to be another dream-like allegory for them enjoying their descent.

if the snackie feast was the roman bacchanal, the political split between the girls and the power imablance could be going into a julius cesar-y territory? especially with the mistyshauna stabbing?

misty exploring someplace that looks like the one from lottie's visions? someone is on trial? natlie isnt in charge anymore?! walter has a mustache now?!!!!

van's new fixation on the fire, alluding to the idea that she could have been the one to burn down the cabin??? to quote you, girl, "REALLY? fire?!"

shauna with her knife to melissa's throat....is something gay happening there?

this creepy little song is really giving me the vibe that everything will NOT be okay!!!

in summation: women can be a little evil, as a treat!

[venusgirltarot]

What Would An Album About You Sound Like?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

Pile One

Ahhh okay this is so cute. Im going to try to explain this as best as I can, Pile 1. So this seems like a concept album. The idea of the album (not the sound but idea ya know) reminds me of “Melodrama” by Lorde. I’ll leave a quote here for a better description but it’s like a concept album about a single night

“Melodrama is described as a loose concept album that explores the theme of solitude, in the framework of a single house party with the events and moods that entail it”

The album about you is similar in the sense that it’s a “loose concept album” but it’s about the writer seeing you. It’s like you’re at this party that the songwriter is also at and they’re obsessed from the moment they lay eyes on you. You’re like this beautiful unobtainable being to them and they want to get to know you so bad but they just can’t seem to talk to you. This could also progress to a one night stand that never progresses to more because of a lack of communication to this album is going through the writer meeting you and watching you throughout the night and then goes into their regrets and what they wish they would have said to you the next day, if that makes sense.

They see you at a party and think you’re so beautiful but can’t seem to find the words to tell you that. I keep hearing “I like the way my bedsheets look on your body” from “hello!” By role model. (I believe that’s the right song but lmk if it’s wrong so I can fix it!) and I keep being reminded of this musician on TikTok “Chappell Roan” and their song “Red Wine Supernova” I think that’s similar to what this album would sound like and it also fits the aesthetic. I highly recommend you listen to this song because it fits your album so perfectly. I tried to find a lyric that resonates the best to include but they all work so well that I couldn’t choose.

Despite this entire album being about only you and just one night leading into the next morning, it’s still so diverse (I hope that makes sense) like you’d think there’s only so many songs you could write about a 12ish hour time frame and one person but this writer has endless things to say about you and the night you met them. I could see one song having a feature and it’s later in the album somewhere between tracks 7-12 or so. The aesthetic of the album is very neon lights, the dance floor on prom night after everything has died down and people are starting to go home, slow, melodramatic and just really pretty. Again, I highly recommend you check out “Red Wine Supernova” because it fits so well.

Track list:

1. Pretty

2. Blooming

3. missing you

4. Shinning Eyes

5. Dying Slow

6. Party Streamers

7. Old Fashioned (Feat. Another Artist)

8. Starlight

9. Nova’s Surprise

10. Sunset

11. morning after

12. You

Pile Two

Pile two, your album sounds like one written by Hozier, Noah Kahan or The Lumineers. It reminds me a lot of “Angela” by The Lumineers. Specifically the lyric “Angela, spent your whole life running away” and “vacancy, hotel room, lost in me, lost in you” it also reminds me of Ethel Cain in the sense that it’s a concept album about running away and starting a new life (but not as dark as ethel’s and with a much better outcome than she got. I heard “success story” it’s about leaving behind a difficult past and moving forward. There’s hope for the future in these songs, remembrance of the past and healing trauma. It’s a beautiful album with a good balance of different emotions. I could see this album coming with a short film or a series of music videos that piece together to tell a store. Similar to “III” by the Lumineers.

I keep hearing a few snippets from the deluxe version of “Stick Season” (that will be out June 9th 👀) like “Medicate meditate swear your soul to Jesus / Throw a punch fall in love give yourself a reason” or “we ain’t angry at you love, you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost” it’s such a beautiful album with so much soul and emotion.

I could see this album getting an acoustic live version that artists do sometimes like “Album, live from Wherever” you know? This album has very unique and catchy lyrics that stick with people, the type of lyrics people take and sell on things in their Etsy shop or use as a quote in their yearbook or put in their instagram bio. It almost feels like poetry. I also heard “escapism” this is the type of music that paints a picture and takes you somewhere else. This album will kind of chronologically tell a story about you moving forward and healing from trauma and finding a peaceful ending. Ending with a song like “Angelia”

Track list

1. movement

2. Adelaide’s Interlude

3. mother

4. farmhouse

5. leave me behind

6. baby blue

7. mustang

8. you’re gonna go far

9. more than this

10. peace

11. at your own pace

12. growing pains

13. at last

Pile Three

I feel like this album has a soft rock sort of sound? Like hozier with a rockier edge if that makes sense? It reminds me of the way hozier sings about love. He sings about a very deep and impactful love and his writing his like poetry and I think that’s what an album about you would sound like. I think this album could be about the writer/musician fighting feelings for you because they’re focused on career or are just concerned about the outcome of the relationship. They might have a fear of falling or something.

However, the last card I pulled was the 10 of cups so the outcome is very good. I feel like this album is coming from a reflective place like this is after yourself and your spouse have settled down and had kids or pets or whatever you would like and your partner is looking back at your relationship from the very beginning up until now and writing about it.

I keep hearing “I’m in love with an emo girl” I don’t think this is what the album will sound like but maybe that’s your aesthetic/vibe? This might just be conformation for you. I also keep hearing that Shania Twain song “you’re still the one” this is the kind of album that fans would dissect like narrow down the time you met your person and talk about every lyric and how that lyric relates to you and your relationship etc. this album talks about how devoted and in love with you your person is but also talks about the (I heard “trials and tribulations”) it took for you two to get there so it may include religious reference. Like religion by Lana Del Rey or Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift where there’s this slight aspect of religion/devotion to your partner.

You hear a lot about how you have to actively choose your partner everyday to make a long term relationship work and this album would definitely delve into that a little. It could also be produced by you and your partner’s mutual friends or people who have been there since the beginning or very early in in your relationship. I think this would be a longer album and there’s definitely 18+ songs on there 👀

Track list

1. October

2. Cosmic

3. Full Moon

4. Bourbon Street

5. She’s All Over Me

6. Starla

7. The Empress

8. Diamond Eyes

9. Find More of Me

10. Dreamscape

11. Escapades

12. Midnight

13. You’re All I Need

14. Mirror

15. Apartment 32

16. Deep End

17. Eternity

[onewaycloset7]

Byler questions bc why not.

1.Out of Mike and Will who do you relate to more and why?

2.What season did you start shipping Byler and why?

3.Are there any songs you associate with them?

4.What is your favourite Byler scene?

5.Whats your favourite Byler quote? (I.e “cool cool” “it was a 7”

6.What is your favourite gate?

7.What type of confession would you like them to have?

THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS!!! 🫶🫶🫶

1. I always thought I was a will my whole life I have always been artistic and very kept to myself about my love life. But recently I was like god damn… I’m a Mike. Im extremely closeted I can’t even say it aloud or come to terms with it. I have spent my life acting like I liked the opposite gender for others (and still do…). I’m told that I act like him a lot (I can’t control my face when I’m around people basically…) EVERY TIME I say something everybody is like “okay Mike!🤗” also I’m so clueless when somebody likes me 🙏

2. Oooo I started shipping them in s2! I never really thought about their friendship or anything till season 2 and ofc through all the scenes I saw in s2 I was like lawdddd they are gay! This was about 2018 I think and when s3 came out I was so obsessed with them I had an editing account (a horrible one) for them but nobody knew I shipped them because I was so scared what others would think… but now I write about them every day on tumblr so look at me now!!! 😌

3. I have a whole playlist associated with them!! Called STurn 2:

(Tell me if it doesn’t work!!!)

But some of my favourites are “Hero’s” - David Bowie because duh I think any Conan gray song match them so well especially “the cut that always bleeds”, Strangers - Ethel Cain, love of my life - Queen, seven - Taylor swift (TRUSTT) and of course the classics Me and Micheal by mgmt (ANGST IN MY PANTS IS A BANGER TOO)

4. My favourite scene would definitely have to be ethier the van scene or the “shed” scene. The van scene portrays their love for eachother in such a clear way and really keeps us all on edge how this painting will be brought up next season. Aswell as this scene showing that what they ultimately need is eachother🫶🫶🫶. The shed scene is just perfection. I think that scene is Mike being his truest self and really showing the audience the real him. For me it was like a coming out scene the whole “it was the best thing I’ve ever done” is mikes way of trying to tell will how special he is to him. But I will say the rain fight is an honourable mention BECAUSE LAWDDDD

5. ���It was a seven” is my favourite I think it shows their bond and trust from the jump + that scene linking up to flickergate. “If we both go crazy then we’ll go crazy toghere right?” Is ALSO my favourite 😌🙏

6. Pastagate ofc 🫶😈 rigatoni is gonna come right in and swoop will off of his feet!! But LETTERGATE 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ will it happen? Probably not but the way my jaw would drop to the floor if bro just pulled out a box of letter he never sent I would go into cardiac arrest! Same with church gate my love ❤️❤️

7. I’m a basic bitch 💔 I want the confession to be in rain to parallel the rain fight… BUT MIKE needs to be the one to initiate the kiss!!! I also would love for church gate confession!!! LIKE HELLO?!?! That would be abousetly insane gays kissing in a church?!?!? Abousetly iconic I must say. I need them to be yelling at eachother and then will says something and Mike is like “what?” 🙏🙏 I wish I could broadcast the vision I’m horrible at writing 😋

[seventh-district]

Dying Star

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

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

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

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

- - - - - - -

Sam’s words have been weighing heavy on your mind ever since you discussed your shared future and the various forms it could take. You didn’t realize just how heavy they were until it all came spilling out of your tired mind on a late night spent together beneath the stars.

Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader

Word Count: 4,053

Contains: [angst] [a dash of humor] [a hint of chubby!Sam bc i like 'em strong and soft] [crying] [cuddling (dub-con cuddles with Quinn in the past & consensual ones with Sam in the present)] [emotional hurt/comfort] [implied/referenced dub-con sex (nothing graphic) (in the past between Darlin' and Quinn to be specific) (refer to my Ao3 notes for further explanation)] [mentioned Quinn] [not quite Dissociation i guess but Darlin' does zone-out/get lost in thought more than once] [pet names (Darlin' (obvs.) and honey)] [Reader is Darlin'] [Sam wears a cowboy hat bc i said so] [some passive suicidality from Sam if you squint (hell, maybe you don't even have to squint)]

A/Ns: Well, well, well, here I am, the person who said they wouldn't write any Redactedverse fanfic. I recently felt a mighty need to expand upon the blurb I wrote in this post, and I'm braving my fandom anxiety by sharing it here. pls be nice 2 me abt it

Timeline-wise, this fic takes place sometime after the ‘Talking About the Future With Your Vampire Mate’ audio but sometime before their presumed eventual departure from the house that William gave Sam, given that they've already had the 'turning' discussion but are still on the same roof in this fic.

This is a songfic, inspired by and quoting verses from 3 songs. Those being:

‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain

‘Fix What You Didn’t Break’ by Nate Smith

‘No Plan’ by Hozier

The roof of Sam’s house is far from a ‘cushy’ place to relax. But as you lie here next to him under the stars, a knowledge settles within you that you wouldn’t trade the rough shingles beneath you for the softest mattress in the world. Not if it meant there’d be anyone other than him lying next to you.

Some people might counter that it’s an easy thing for you to say, given the number of nights you’ve thrown a balled-up shirt onto one end of a worn-out couch and called it a bed. But some people don’t know you as well as they think they do.

You’ve known luxury. Quinn might’ve been just as content taking his fill on a seedy motel bed as he was wrapped in silks at a Hilton, but he knew how to play up the luxe when it served him to do so. And in the early days as he worked to lure you in, it did. Plush sheets and expensive drinks helped to soften the preordained blows and dull the imminent pain that your nights with him held.

Once you’d latched onto the bait though, he let the act drop one piece at a time, like props collapsing on a stage. After all, what was the point in all of those frivolities when you both knew what you really came to him for? It wasn’t to be wined and dined, it wasn’t to be dressed up and shown off, and it wasn’t even to be slowly stripped of it all, laid out across the rolling clouds of a pillowy mattress.

It was to be used. Tranced. Restrained. Bitten. Drank from. Choked. Hit. Edged. Denied. Made to writhe and whine and bleed and plead. Plead for more, for less, for nothing, for anything. Anything to quiet your mind and fill the ever-expanding void inside you where you suspect love was supposed to live.

That’s what you both really wanted.

At least, that’s what you told him you wanted.

That’s what you told yourself.

You only got what you asked for.

To your right, Sam stirs, stretching gently with a yawn. The soft noise he releases as he does so reminds you of where you are, and you trace back through your thoughts to find how you got so lost.

…Right. Luxury.

While your relationship with Quinn certainly changed over time, you never forgot what it felt like in the beginning. 

You remember nights laid next to him, body sore, mind quiet. Quinn’s idea of aftercare was lacking to say the least, but you had nothing better to compare it to at the time, and you’d take what you could get. At least your head felt empty, and the bed was soft. Exhaustion would pull you under soon enough.

The mattress, sheets, and pillows enveloping you were likely worth more than you even made that past month. ...Or several. You found that display of luxury hard to be impressed by though, when it wasn’t the type of comfort you’d been seeking.

As Quinn shifted in his presumed sleep, pulling you in tighter, you didn’t fight it. You found yourself unwilling to fight anything he did, like his mere presence was enough to drain the fight right out of you. You told yourself that you were okay with that. Because you wanted it.

Lying there with your head on his bare chest, you took a deep breath and told yourself that you liked the stench of cheap cologne, poorly masking the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. You silently told yourself that you liked everything. You liked the pain that he chased with hints of pleasure. You liked the loss of power, the way you couldn’t fight back if you wanted to once he looked you in the eyes. You liked all the things he said, no matter how much the truth might hurt.

He was right, you supposed. Your desires, the things you craved, the depravity that you so enjoyed, wasn’t normal. It was uncommon, unusual, and in the eyes of some, unfathomable. To possess such dark desires, there must be something truly broken inside you.

How lucky you were, to have found someone willing to indulge you. Someone that could give you everything you wanted, and be so kind as to keep it a secret too. He promised that word of the things he did to you, the things you let him do, would never get out. You remember the way he held your hand as he told you, falling for the guise of sincerity in his eyes. You remember his warm smile, and his razor sharp teeth.

You remember seeing that exact same smile on his face through one-way glass as he sat across from Sam and told him everything.

You stood in that room and thought back to those nights of luxury. To the feeling of his nails ghosting over the freshly healed punctures in your neck. To the way he held you against him. You remember laying there, lifeless, feeling like prey playing dead. Afraid to move, afraid to disturb him. But why? He hadn’t threatened you. He never told you that you had to stay. He never said that you couldn’t move, or pull away. So why did you feel that way?

As you stood, helplessly witnessing hours of his slander in that interrogation room, you understood. Your rose-tinted glasses had long since shattered, and you saw that smile for what it was. It was the smile of a man playing a dangerous game, brimming with satisfaction, thinking he’d won.

The radio near you begins to crackle, static obscuring the hosts voice as they announce the upcoming song. Sam doesn’t even open his eyes, just raises a hand and reaches out, blindly adjusting the antenna of the old device.

You’ve teased him for holding onto it for so long, as he is wont to do with damn near all of his possessions. But as you watch him deftly extend and angle the antenna with practiced care, the response he once gave you proves itself true once again.

“I don’t wanna replace it, Darlin’. It’s not broken. It just needs someone who knows how to make it sing again.”

The static clears, and music flows through the radio’s old speakers once more.

You watch Sam return his hand to its prior position beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow of his own. The way he’s lying has his hat pushed forward, and it’d be doing a damn good job of shielding his face from the sun if it weren’t somewhere around midnight at the moment. Still, it suits him somehow, despite its lack of any practicality. All he’s missing is a stalk of wheat between his teeth and a tree to lean against and he’d be the spitting image of the cowboy he swears he isn’t.

His other hand rests on the soft curve of his stomach, rising and falling again as he breathes. He’s the image of peace in moments like these, and you’re drawn to it like a moth to flame. Maybe one of these days you’ll find some of your own, but for now you’re more than content to bask in his.

As you admire him, he takes a slow, deep breath and you mirror it on instinct. The grounding practice helps you leave your mind and return to your body, if just for a moment. In doing so, you realize just how tense your ruminations have made you.

You relax your hands, releasing the blanket beneath you from your iron grip. You brush your palms over it, worried that you’ve torn the fabric once you realize that your nails had halfway shifted to claws. You don’t fret much over damage to your own possessions, but this blanket is Sam’s and you’d hate to ruin it. Though, you suppose he doesn’t prize it too much or he wouldn’t have laid it out here across the roof in the first place.

“If I buy somethin’ it’s because I wanna use it. Now quit frettin’ and get over here.” You recall what he told you earlier as he patted the blanket next to him in invitation, and you smile.

Doing a small stretch of your own, you release the tension in your shoulders, turning your attention back to the stars above you. For a while, you let the soft music wash over your tired mind.

“I asked him not to kill me politely. He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source. I washed up on the sea glass shores. I’m nobody's captive.”

In spite of your best efforts to relax, you’re still subconsciously futzing with the loose threads of the old blanket beneath you.

You’re made aware of it when Sam reaches a hand down, gently laying it over yours and effectively stilling your anxious motion.

“Burning like a dying star, invasive weeds rooted in my heart, set in a crooked trajectory. The journey here was hard, I was almost pulled apart. Trying to leave his orbit took what’s left of me.”

You flip your hand over beneath his so you can hold it properly, lacing your fingers together.

For reasons beyond your understanding, emotion tightens your throat, the threat of tears pooling in your eyes.

…You must be more tired than you thought.

As minutes pass and one song fades into another, your gaze dances across the blurry, scattered points of light in the dark sky.

“You were the star in the pitch black, shine the way on the way back. Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers.”

Sam’s always been so much better at identifying stars and finding constellations. But as the music plays, you begin to see one of your own.

“Picked up the towel that I threw in, took in a heart that was ruined. Showed me the past ain’t a tattoo, loved me even when you didn’t have to.”

“Sam.�� You squeeze his hand to get his attention.

He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”

“I want you to look at something.” You swallow back the emotion that tries to seep into your voice, but it catches his attention all the same.

He leans up and lifts his hat from his head, setting it aside near the radio. He then reaches to turn a dial back, lowering the music’s volume to give you his full attention.

You release his hand, raising yours up as he turns back to face you. You don’t say anything at first, nearly too lost in your own mind to realize you need to actually voice your developing thoughts.

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

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

Sam does his best to follow your less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', your 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 your exposed wrist where your sleeve had slipped back, he takes your hand in his again and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

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

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

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

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

You scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh. "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 you cut him off before he can start. "But no. No, this isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in your 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?"

Your frown is audible in your voice as you 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 your over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, honey, I promise."

You huff, but begrudgingly 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.”

Sam’s brow furrows as you continue to explain, realization setting in that you really are being serious.

“I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...And 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 and people that I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, at Wonderworld, surrounded by the ghost of him. Your warmth, your presence, your aura—even with all of your walls up, 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 home."

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

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

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

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand squeezes yours tight, his urgent tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

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

You reach out, pulling him down into you. He falters for a moment at the sudden proximity, but quickly embraces you in turn. Burying your face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear your words, muffled against the thick flannel, but his hearing catches them just fine.

"Don't burn out too quickly. 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."

The words feel like a weight being lifted from your shoulders, but with it comes a flood of emotion they’d been holding back. You cry harder into him, and as much as it pains Sam to witness, he lets you feel it, for as long as you need.

Your fear of losing him manifests itself physically, nails curling and sharpening again. When he feels them prick his skin through the fabric of his shirt, he calls your name but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans further down into you, letting his weight ground you. “Darlin’, I am right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

As you eventually cry yourself out, enough wherewithal returns to you to realize that you should probably release the poor man from your grasp, and the awkward position you pulled him into. When he pulls away enough to see your face, you notice a string of snot running from your nose to his shirt collar. Quickly batting it away out of embarrassment, you cringe, voice thick as you apologize. “Eugh, gross. Uh… sorry. About that.”

He shakes his head, laughing good-naturedly as you wipe at your nose with your jacket sleeve. “It’s completely fine, honey. After all, I’ve been covered in plenty of your, uh… various fluids before. When you come from my line of work, this is child’s play.”

He leans to his right, reaching back and pulling—of all things—a handkerchief from his jeans’ left back pocket. You laugh at his words, and at the sight, but with how congested you are it turns into more of a hacking cough than anything. Accepting his offering, you blow your nose into the black patterned fabric.

As soon as you can speak somewhat clearly, you can’t stop the teasing remark that slips out of you, gesturing with the wad of fabric in your hand. “You know, you really aren’t beating the cowboy allegations with stuff like this.”

He rolls his eyes but his soft smile remains. “It’s a practical thing to have on me, ‘allegations’ be damned.”

You shake your head with a smile of your own, but don’t disagree. As you’re visibly unsure what to do with the dirtied fabric, he takes it from you, setting it aside. “I’ll toss it in the wash when we go back inside. Along with my shirt, and…” He eyes you for a moment. “…that jacket of yours too, given how long you’ve probably been wearin’ it.”

Normally you’d argue that it hasn’t been that long, but come to think of it, you actually can’t recall when you last washed the thing.

Reaching up and rubbing your temples, you already regret your crying fit as a headache begins to set in. “Fuck, Sam... I’m sorry for… whatever that just was. I don’t know what came over me.”

His expression falls into something serious again. “You never need to apologize for feeling. And it certainly seems like… you needed to feel that.”

You nod quietly, but don’t elaborate, prompting him to question you gently. “Darlin’. What was that about? The—the askin’ me not to leave. Are you… afraid that I’m gonna leave you?”

You close your eyes, weighing out your response. “…Not in the sense that you’ll break up with me or something, no.”

His gaze narrows and his head tilts as he rolls your answer over in his mind. “If it ain’t that, then—” He remembers how you mentioned ‘forever’ and cuts himself off as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “Oh. …Oh, Darlin’, no.”

You open your eyes to watch as he shifts from leaning next to you, moving to sit up beside you. “Is this about what I told you, when we sat up here and had our uh… turning discussion?”

You hate to admit it, but you nod in confirmation. “…It’s your choice, Sam, and I never want to take that away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I just did, I—I don’t want to make you feel guilty, or like you have to stick around for my sake. But I’d be lying to you if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind. The thought of you… leaving. Like that.”

He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “I… think I maybe should’ve been a bit more clear, when I said that. Because I wasn’t talking about any time soon. I didn’t want to give you the false impression that I plan on sticking around for centuries, but… I also wasn’t trying to imply that I’ve got plans to do it next week either.”

You bolt upright, voice cracking. “Next week?! I sure as shit hope not!” You grab your head, pain flaring and suddenly dizzy from the quick shift in position.

He places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I’m not, honey, I’m not. Did you catch the rest of my sentence? I’ve got no plans to leave this world any time soon. I promise.”

You groan, head pounding. “I heard you, I did, I just—fuck, I don’t even wanna think about you leaving so soon. Here I am, stressing, thinking I’ve only got—I don’t know—some odd years left with you, and…” You sigh, trailing off.

Sam stays quiet for a minute, letting the crickets sing.

Eventually, he interrupts their chorus. “…Can I get closer to you?”

You nod. “…Please.”

He closes the gap between you, carefully wrapping a strong arm around your curled shoulders. “You’ve got way more than a couple years. I promise you that.” Your tension begins to ease a bit as he clarifies. “You… you’ve helped me find a life that I actually feel like livin’ again, for the first time in a long time. And I want to experience it with you for as long as I can.”

“…Really?” Your voice sounds so small, so unsure, so… unlike you when you question him that he wants to kick himself in his own ass for the role he unintentionally played in making you feel this way.

“Yes. Really. I mean—” His voice takes on an edge of humor. “If you decide to set your sights on the year 3,000…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But as far as the 21st century is concerned? …I think I’d like to see it through. For as long as you’re there to see it with me.”

His words cause fresh tears to well up in your eyes, and you sniff in an attempt to hold them back. The sound catches his attention, and he leans forward, thumbing across your warm cheek. “…I’m makin’ you cry again…”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “No—No, it’s okay. It’s good. They’re… they’re good. It’s… relief.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh of his own. “Yeah?”

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

As you rest against each other, breathing in the cool night air, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Can we… lay back? For a bit?”

He squeezes your arm in gentle confirmation. “Of course.”

He twists and reaches back to straighten the wrinkled blanket beneath you, before laying out across it himself. The radio crackles as he turns the volume back up a bit. Watching him with tired eyes, you smile at the sight of him patting his chest in habitual invitation.

“Sit in and watch the sunlight fade. Honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late. There’s no plan. There’s no hand on the reign. As Mack explained, there will be darkness again.”

Curling up against his side and laying your head on his chest, you release a heavy sigh when his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. As his fingers press rhythmically into the tense muscle beneath them, you breathe in his scent. Black coffee and wildflower honey… he smells like home.

“Your secret is safe with me, and if secrets were like seeds, when I’m lyin’ under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made.”

You reach your hand out across his broad chest, slipping beneath his open flannel and sliding down to rest on his waist. He sighs, relaxing further beneath your touch.

“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. That’s how I know now that you understand.”

Yeah, you’ll take this over ‘luxury’ any damn day.

“There’s no plan. There’s no race to be run.”

Laying there with him, listening to the low hum of the radio, the moment grows so comfortable that you almost hesitate to break it.

“The harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song.”

“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.

His hand sweeps across your back before returning to your shoulder. “I’m here, Darlin’.”

“There’s no plan. There’s no kingdom to come.”

You smile. “I… I’d like to be there, to be here, to see it through with you, too.”

It takes him a moment to recall exactly what you’re referring to, but when it hits him he hums a low understanding tone, clearly pleased. “Then let’s see where it takes us, yeah?”

“But I’ll be your man if you got love to get done.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got plenty a’ time.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my extensive notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. My Sam & Darlin' Playlist My Sam Playlist My Darlin' Playlist My Sam & Darlin' Moodboard My Sam Moodboard My Darlin' Moodboard Header Image Credit: Gage Smith on Unsplash

[kiwiaok]

aftg is eating up my brain so badly, I have a constant stream of ideas and I’m shit at actually writing them but I need to get them out of my system bc it’s suffocating, so:

• an au where king and sir turn out to be shapeshifters so andreil magically acquire two spoiled kids

• andreil saying to each other ‘IU’ instead of ‘I hate you’ or ‘I love you’ or anything else. they use it in every kind of situation bc it’s the testament of how much they feel about each other and that’s more important to them than anything else. they’re fighting? IU (I hate you, I’m scared for you, I’m scared of how much power you have over me, I still want you to stay) they’re having sex? IU (I trust you, I love you, I’m going to take care of you, I’ll make you feel good) they’re breaking down? IU (I’ve got you, I’m here, I’m going to stay, I’m going to help best I can)

• a fic where neil dies in baltimore and we see the aftermath told from his perspective as a ghost: introspection, character study, cannibalism, polaroids, inspired by strangers by ethel cain:

• neil taking great pleasure in buying andrew expensive things and seeing him use them, not out of possessiveness but bc he truly just wants andrew to be happy and taken care of. and andrew learning to accept those gifts bc neil never wants anything in return, not even gratitude

• neil getting drugged at eden’s by some stranger and proceeding to glue himself to andrew’s side. the next day andrew is frustrated by that show of trust and he asks how neil could know that it wasn’t him doing the drugging. to which neil replies that he didn’t know that, but he knew that andrew wouldn’t drug him or let anyone touch him without a good reason. so it was okay, he just needed to trust andrew’s judgement and stick by him. and then andrew realising just how much faith neil has in him and having a breakdown about it

• after neil’s bad days, andrew spoons neil and keeps his hand wrapped around neil’s throat while they’re sleeping. it makes neil feel safe and grounded and makes andrew drunk on trust and control (bonus scene: foxes witnessing this one day and completely failing at understanding their dynamic)

• neil getting into a habit of spitting after his time at the nest bc riko used to spit into his mouth and make him swallow it as a power play. whenever neil remembers it the thought of any spit in his mouth, even his own, makes him sick. so he spits

• whenever aaron is on the edge of relapsing instead of telling anyone he just trails after andrew 24/7 bc he knows his brother won’t let him destroy his life

• tlou au where andrew is traveling the world in search of his twin brother and he’s hired to transport neil somewhere. meanwhile, they fall in love with each other and they find out andrew was supposed to deliver neil into his father’s hands (andrew promised neil safety and he refuses to break his promise so this becomes the first job andrew ever failed)

• andreil breaking up and neil desperately trying to prove to himself that he can move on so he takes the page from andrew’s books and starts sleeping around, but he only succeeds in hurting himself and feeling miserable (they get back in the end bc I need them to be happy)

• OH MY GOD HORNY KANDREIL CLASSICAL MUSIC AU!! kevin (and neil?) playing violin and drew being freakishly good at playing every instrument he ever touches but especially the piano. kev giving a performance and andreil sitting in the first row, neil getting a hard on bc kevin looks so good in his suit, with slightly greying hair combed back and passion burning in his eyes. andrew discretely edging him on, palming neil’s dick through the fancy suit’s material and keeping eye contact with kevin the whole time

AND SO MUCH MORE AAAAAA. this is insufferable, I’m writing fics in my head to fall asleep and then I’m waking up literally quoting aftg (genuinely happened last week, I felt like a lunatic) and then I’m going to uni and I spend every lecture thinking about how I can use my degree to better write about those stupid murderous college athletes. what kind of crack did you put in this series, nora?????