#gabbie writes things

[quintessenceofdust88]

(you guys this just came to me while I was almost falling asleep it's unbeata'ed and unedited and I'll probably cringe at it in the morning but 3am me doesn't have that filter so)

Tommy's not sure what wakes him up; at first, he thinks it's the light of Evan's screen, but that can't be it. He has slept many a time with that light upon his face when his husband gets caught up in a research binge.

Then Tommy realizes it's the soft sobbing that's making Evan's shoulders shake slightly, and he's sitting up in bed and alert in seconds.

"Baby" He calls urgently, placing a hand on Evan's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Evan turns around to face him, also sitting up, and the knot in Tommy's chest loosens slightly when he sees the smile on his tear-stained face. Happy tears, then. A common thing for Evan for the last few months, but still quite unexpected at 3 in the morning.

"Did... Did you know they have fingernails already?" Evan asks, his voice thick with emotion as his hand moves gently on his bump which is already starting to stretch the old T-shirt he's wearing (and Tommy knows it's only a matter of time until he switches for Tommy's slightly larger ones).

"They do, sweetheart?" Tommy whispers in awe, his hand coming down to join Evan's over his belly. He knows that twelve weeks is too soon to feel anything; even if there are two babies, but he likes to know their babies are right under the joined hands of their dads.

"Y--yeah. And eyelashes too. I... I was just reading about fetal development and twins and... Fingernails, Tommy. I... I don't know why, but it made them seem so more real for me. There are two little people growing up inside of me. We made them!" He says, his voice filled with awe, and the tears start running down his face again. "Ohh, come on, that's not fair, the irrational crying was supposed to have stopped already!" He whines, and Tommy more than quickly pulls Evan to his embrace.

Evan drops his head unceremoniously in Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy runs a comforting hand on his curls, the other one still protectively draped above the bump.

"Well, if you ask me, crying over our babies' fingernails is not completely irrational" Tommy quips, gaining a wet chuckle for his efforts. "I... I get what you mean. It makes them... It makes them tangible. More than an idea"

Evan nods against his shoulder, and Tommy has to hold back his own tears as the thought fully enters his mind.

As he gently kisses Evan's forehead and convinces him to drop his phone and actually get some sleep, Tommy can't keep a grin from his face.

Two little people. Growing inside Evan. And they made them. What a wonderful idea to fall asleep to.

[bloodandtime]

roommate!eddie pt 2

okay, finally posting part two to this. thanks for your patience on this!! been depressed busy lol also once again if this is bad i simply don’t want to know

cw:  18+ mdni, noncon voyuerism again (it’s still wanted, just not explicitly stated), (m&f) masturbation, wet dreams, accidental boners, eddie’s exasperated, drug usage briefly mentioned (it’s just weed), fem!reader, chubby/plus size reader implied!! um i fink that’s it. let me know if i missed anything. oh this is all in lowercase cause i suck lol this is also not really edited so godspeed to you all 

nothing drastically changed after the first incident. eddie had been more skittish than usual, which is saying something as he is a jumpy little thing to begin with.

he felt guilty for getting off to you getting off and he couldn’t very well tell you that, (well he could, but he doesn’t know he could). eddie could barely look you in the eye the first few days after, avoiding you at every turn. you thought he actually might implode when you ran into him in only a towel. 

he was out when you got in the shower so you didn’t bother with clothes. while there had been no ulterior motives that time, that’s not to say you didn’t start to tease eddie. 

you��d been holding off on jumping his bones because you had wanted to be sure he wanted you. sure, you’d heard him get off at the same time as you but maybe it was a coincidence. 

so when he finally started acting normal about two weeks later you decided to test the waters. 

you started off small. wearing a big shirt and no pants one evening. 

“everything okay?” you asked while floating around the kitchen, making dinner. eddie was frozen in the doorway, just getting home from work. 

you avoid his gaze, butterflies swarming in your stomach, heat in your cheeks. you know you’re right, you know he wants you but that doesn’t fix your insecurities. 

while moving back to the stove you catch eddie shaking his head, as if to wake himself up. his voice soon follows, albeit strained.

“yeah, sweetheart. i’m good.” eddie, was in fact, not good, “whatever you’re making smells great, i’ll be right back.” 

he zooms away so fast you’re surprised you don’t see a smoke outline of him in his wake. 

well, that was either a really great reaction or a terrible one continuing on with dinner, you don’t see eddie again the rest of the night. 

(he’s jerking off, but you don’t know that)

a couple days pass and he hears you get off again. he hasn’t heard you since that first night. He doesn’t know if you haven’t gotten off at all (unlikely) or if maybe it was just a one off thing that he heard you. maybe you usually wait till he’s not home, but he hears you tonight and you’re not exactly quiet about it.

he’s in bed, sat up against your shared wall, hand palming his cock through his boxers as he listens. through the wall you’re moaning so loud your voice rings crystal clear in his ears. he thinks about what you look like when you’re cumming, a sheen to your skin, chest heaving, a slick mess at the apex of your thighs. 

he imagines his cum dripping down your thighs and groans. that image of you is all the motivation he needs to shove his boxers down his thighs and start jerking off. he’s not kind about it, trying to get off at the same time as you. spitting into his hand, he starts a brutal pace, his other hand reaching down to massage his balls. 

as he jerks his cock, he thinks about you on top, the way you’d look holding down his wrists, using him as leverage to grind into him. your tits in his face, the feel of your tummy pressing into him as you lean down to kiss him. he whimpers, feeling himself teetering on the edge.

a high pitched whine reaches his ears from your room and that’s all he needs to fall over, cumming all over his hands and stomach, he works himself through it until he’s whimpering. what he doesn’t know is that you’ve heard him again too. leaning against your shared wall listening to him work his cock. 

you both sit there, in your respective rooms, out of breath and yearning for one another. 

days pass and eddie’s not as openly weird about it this time. he is able to look you in the eye and hold a conversation, which you think means some sort of weird progress. 

it’s finally your day off, and all you have planned to do is absolutely nothing. binging whatever show and lounging on the couch.

to be fair, eddie wasn’t home again so you weren’t originally trying to tempt him, but you did improvise. he comes home to find you asleep on the couch and he thinks he may just actually die. 

you’re passed out on your stomach, one leg hitched up, face squished against the pillow while snoring softly. you’re only wearing a shirt and panties. your shirt rests above the curve of your ass, the soft cotton of your panties on display. 

he comically bites his fist to avoid groaning as he makes his way over to you quiet as eddie can be, to try and rouse you kindly. 

eddie crouches down, knees to chest, his fingertips a breath away from your shoulder when you moan.

he’s immediately frozen again.

this cannot be happening, you cannot be having a wet dream.

your hips start to move as you let out a breathy sigh, grinding down trying to find friction. 

eddie leans his head to his knees and softly sighs, trying so hard to move himself away. leave the room and do the right thing and go. 

but he can’t, not when you look like this, not when you sound like this. so pretty and soft and sweet. so he lifts his head, watches and listens. 

his eyes rake up your body. your doughy thighs on display, and if he moves leans his head just so he sees the bump of your cunt. a gasp escapes him. 

you’re soaked, folds stuck to the fabric. he stares too long, burning the image in his mind. forcing his eyes away, he follows the curves of your body, takes in every inch of flesh exposed by your rucked up shirt. when his gaze follows the slope of your shoulder to your face he inhales sharply. 

your eyes are open, you’ve been watching him watch you.

“eddie,” teasing, voice sticky with sleep “what are you doing?”

he looks down, avoiding your gaze, brain racing to find an excuse. he doesn’t think sorry! was watching you have a wet dream will cut it.

“was just coming over here to wake you up, cause i didn’t want your neck to hurt after sleeping on the couch.” he says all in one breath, nails tapping a rhythm onto the coffee table absentmindedly. his eyes bounce around the room, avoiding. 

you roll over and sit up, legs stretching out in front of you. eddie sits on the ground, between the couch and the coffee table where he still taps a rhythm, facing you. 

“that’s sweet eddie, thank you.” you say, genuinely, smiling. he is kind, even though he’s telling a half truth. 

his eyes flicker back to you at your thanks, the rhythm stops. he follows the curves of your form to your face, once again.

stopping at your thighs squeezing together, to where your belly peaks out from your shirt, soft and plush, to where your tits rest naturally because eddie can’t catch a fucking break.

“so, how was work?” you ask. closing your eyes as you lay back down and stretch out, you softly moan. eddie feels his cock jump, he makes himself turn away.

“oh you know,” he’s can’t look at you, he’s breathless, “same shit, different day.” 

you open your eyes and nudge his shoulder with your knee, his band tee soft against your skin. 

“oh come on, eddie” you tease, “i know you have more to say than that.” 

he can’t help but laugh, meeting your gaze he flushes. 

“i get it. i talk too much.” sighing dramatically as if you’ve fatally wounded him, “i’m sooooo sorry,” he’s all sarcasm.

as he’s talking you lean up, scooting so you’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch. you let your right leg fall to the floor, your clothed cunt now in eddie’s direct line of sight. he stares, not breathing.

you nudge him with your foot, playing dumb.”really? nothing else? no shitty customers? nothing about your annoying coworkers?” 

eddie scrambles to his feet, hands in front of his crotch, red in the face. “oh that reminds me! i offered to let my coworker borrow a book,” eddie stumbles as he walks backwards to the hall, squawking, he continues, “he closes tonight so i’ll just swing by now.” 

he’s speaking louder now, almost to his room. “i might actually stop by the store too!” there’s shuffling, a loud crash and several fucks! sworn by the time he finally comes back into the living room, book in tow. 

you’ve now pulled a blanket over you, dejected. turning your show back on, you wait for eddie to leave before you move to hide in your room. 

he doesn’t notice the anxious look on your face, so focused on getting out of there before i burst in my pants! 

eddie flies to the door, and tells you to text him if you need anything while he’s out. the door’s not even shut by the time you’re off of the couch, sulking back to your room.

eddie sits in his (newer) van to calm down before he leaves, unable to get the image of you out of his head. crushing on his new roommate was not in his plans. 

 he’s definitely convinced you’re flirting with him though so it’s not one sided, he hopes. he wonders if he should test the waters, see if you actually want him. 

what if you didn’t know your pussy was right in his face? he knows how ridiculous that sounds. 

he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, been the butt of a prank too many times that he catches himself mistrusing his intuition. 

although he’s grown, he can’t always shake his insecurities, but he wants to put himself out there. for you. his mind continues to race as he drives back to work. 

you, on the other hand, were wallowing in bed. you felt like you were being pretty forward. your pussy was in his face for christ’s sake! while the rejection hurts, you’re worried. maybe you  came on too strong? he seems interested in you, he certainly couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

smoking a joint and taking a bath to relax, you plot your next big move. deciding that if he doesn’t make a move this time. you’ll drop it.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Screaming from the crypt (or how the past haunts the present on Midnights)

I know it's been discussed so much since Midnights came out but just.

I love how there is such a clear narrative throughout the album (and perhaps especially on the 3am/Vault tracks). About questioning and regret and choices and coming to terms with all of it. It is one long story about how we're all a mosaic of the choices we make, each one taking something from us and leaving something else in its place.

(And now a disclaimer: I'm looking at this mostly through a narrator/subject lens, and trying not to dive too deeply into real-life events or speculation except for in a general sense. For this purpose I like to look at the body of work as art, like literature, because I find it makes it easier to see the common threads in the different songs and cohesion in the narrative.)

In looking at the 3am+ tracks in particular, it's fascinating how some turns of phrases or themes repeat themselves in different songs, in different contexts. (I'm only focusing on the non-standard tracks because there are too many songs and I'd be here all day but I bet I could do a part two lol.) I know many people have pointed out the parallels throughout her discography already and I’m not saying anything groundbreaking by writing this, but I love how these parallels run through in the same album, because it makes it seem like it's one long story, or at least, one long rumination on many different stories that are coalescing into a single narrative.

Battle (let’s go)

For instance, the one that jumped out at me when I started writing this post the other week was, "Tore your banners down, took the battle underground," in The Great War and "If clarity's in death, then why won't this die? Years of tearing down our banners, you and I," in Would've, Could've Should've. It's a story about staying stuck in the same cycle of reliving trauma and coping mechanisms and bad habits over and over again and fantasizing about how taking the “antagonist” out and gaining the upper hand for good would bring closure (WCS), but the truth is that nothing ever will. All that cycle does, though, is repeat itself in other situations, and in this case pushes someone away the narrator cares for (TGW). The difference is that the imagined battle in WCS is a two-way street in her mind (that is ultimately unwinnable because it was never a fair fight), but in TGW it's one-sided -- she's the one fighting dirty, taking shots, the way she'd been doing in her imagination (or nightmares) all these years. But the person in front of her isn't fighting back the way the person in her mind in WCS would, because their intentions are honourable instead of exploitative.

And that's paralleled in another pair of lyrics from the two songs, "And maybe it's the past talking, screaming from the crypt, telling me to punish you for things you never did," (in TGW) and "The tomb won't close, I fight with you in my sleep," (in WCS). In both cases, the funeral imagery makes it seem like this past event should be dead and buried in WCS, but it keeps rising from the dead, haunting her no matter what she does and in TGW, another (or perhaps the same?) tomb that won't close keeps unleashing new ways to hurt her and in turn the new person in her life. In other words, the trauma from the past continues to bleed into the present.

(Again from a literary point of view, I'm not saying the events of the two songs are linked IRL, but they're fascinating textual parallels on the album as a string of chapters, which is why Dear Reader is so compelling, but that's a whole other essay.)

To keep the battle motif going, there’s yet another parallel, this time between TGW’s "[You were a] soldier down on that icy ground, looked up at me with honor and truth," and You’re Losing Me’s "All I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, fighting in only your army.” In the former, the subject is laying down his armour in the war she’s projecting onto him, waving the white flag, and she realizes that she’s about to destroy something if she doesn’t put her sword down too. By the time we get to YLM, the roles are almost reversed; at the very least they’re supposed to be on the same team, but in this case she’s doing all the heavy lifting, fighting for their relationship in contrast to his apathy killing it. It’s also pretty interesting (if not outright intentional) that one of the 3am+ editions of the albums starts with The Great War, where they find themselves in conflict (even if it’s in her head) that ends in a truce, and ends with You’re Losing Me signalling the end of the relationship, evidence that the resolution in the first song wasn’t an ending but merely a ceasefire before the last battle.

Putting the rest under a cut because this is waaaaay too long now ⤵️

(There’s also another metaphor there in The Great War with its battle imagery: World War I, aka The Great War, was supposed to be the war to end all wars, because loss on its scale was never seen before and when it ended, most thought never again would the world embroil itself in such battle, the horrors and implications were so devastating. Two decades later, the world found itself in WWII, with an even larger scope and more horrific consequences, the intervening time between the two a period of festering conflicts and resentment leading to some of the worst acts the world would see. Bringing real life into it for a second, there’s something a little poetic, though sad, about The Great War the song being about a fight that could have ended the relationship that they ultimately resolved and was meant to be evidence of the strength of their love, but so too did it end up being a period of détente, the greater battle coming for them years later. But that is not the point of this post.)

If one thing had been different

Another major theme in these editions is pondering the "what ifs?" of life, but I think it takes on even more significance in the broader context of the album in the lyrics of "I'm never gonna meet what could've been, would've been, should've been you," in Bigger than the Whole Sky and the repetition of would've/could've in Would've, Could've, Should've (I would've looked away at the first glance, I would've stayed on my knees, I would've gone along with the righteous, I could've gone on as I was, would've could've should've if I'd only played it safe, etc.) In both songs, the narrator is mourning an alternate course their life could have taken* and questioning what they could have done differently, in the aftermath of trauma and loss, and the regret that comes with that loss, and with the loss of agency in the situation because ultimately it was never in their hands. In an album full of questions, wondering about the path not taken, or the forks in the road that have led to a different version of your life, it's digging deeper into the contrast of choice vs. fate, action vs. reaction, dwelling on the past vs. moving on. When you're supposed to let go of the past, what do you do when it is holding your future hostage?

(*I know there are different interpretations/speculation about BTTWS which I am not getting into on main. I'm just saying that whatever the song is about, it's grieving something that never came to be. The literal origin of the song is less important to the album than the sense of loss it portrays. Whatever the inspiration is, it's crafted to tell part of the story of Midnights of ruminating over how, to borrow from her previous work, if one thing had been different, would everything be different?)

(Also I was today years old when I realized that the words are inverted in the two songs. Apparently I've been hearing BTTWS wrong this whole time.)

There's also an interesting tangent in the role of faith in both songs: in WCS, the events of the story cause her to lose her faith (e.g. "All I used to do was pray," "you're a crisis of my faith,") and question all the things she felt had been unquestionable until that point in her life (e.g. "I could have gone along with the righteous"), whereas in BTTWS, she questions whether that very lack of faith is to blame for the loss in that song ("did some force take you because I didn't pray? [...] It's not meant to be, so I'll say words I don't believe"). It's like pinpointing the moment her life changed and upended her beliefs (WCS), but as a result then leaving her unmoored in times of crisis because ultimately there's no explanation or comfort to be taken from what she used to hold true before that (BTTWS). The words she once relied upon to guide her have long since lost their meaning, but in times of trouble it leaves her wondering if that faith she once held then lost could have prevented this pain.

(Shoutout to WCS for being Catholic guilt personified lol.)

To keep on with the vaguely faith-y notions, an obvious parallel is the line in Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve about, “I damn sure never would've danced with the devil at nineteen,” and, "When you aim at the devil, make sure you don't miss," in Dear Reader. All of WCS is about her fighting with an antagonist who haunts her, with whom she wholly regrets ever becoming involved. DR could be seen as a reflection on that fall from grace, warning the audience that if you choose to go after the person (or thing) haunting you, make sure you do so clearheaded enough to be decisive. Again, these “devils” may not be related in real life: the IRL devil in DR could be speaking about her naysayers, or Kim*ye, or Scott & Scooter B, etc., meaning not to cross your enemies until you know you can win. But taking real life out of it and looking at it textually, I am intrigued by the link between WCS and DR, so that’s what I’m going with here. And perhaps that’s even the point in a wider sense; there will be multiple “devils” in your life, or threats to your well-being. If you’re going to commit to taking them down — whether it’s an actual person, or the demons inside you that refuse to let you go — make sure you have the right ammo so that they can no longer hurt you. (Of course, one lesson from these experiences is that sometimes you can’t win, and you have to live with the fallout.)

(Sidebar: I know that “dancing with the devil” is a turn of phrase that means being led into temptation and engaging in risky behaviour, as opposed to describing the actual person. Given the religious metaphors in the song, that could very well be/is the intention, particularly when it’s preceded by, “I would have stayed on my knees” as in she would have continued to follow her faith — in whatever sense that means — had she never met this person, which could also be a more eloquent way of saying she would have continued to be live her life in a way that was righteous (even naive) and seen the world in black and white. Either way, it’s a force she wholly rejects. Like I said, multiple devils, same fight.)

Regret comes up too: in WCS, she says, "I regret you all the time," obviously directed at the person who manipulated her and led to her perceived downfall, citing him as the one impulse she wished she'd never followed, because it won't leave her no matter how hard she’s tried. In High Infidelity, she tells the person to, "put on your records and regret me," and on the surface, it’s like she’s turning the tables, painting herself as the one now causing the regret in someone else, the one inflicting the pain this time. Yet the verse preceding it and the lines following it in the chorus depict a partner who is also emotionally manipulative and vindictive like in WCS (“you said I was freeloading, I didn’t know you were keeping count,” “put on your headphones and burn my city,”). It’s not so much that she’s intentionally harming the person (the way the person in WCS does to her), but rather that the venom in the subject’s feelings towards her seeps through; she’s imagining the way he’s going to feel about her when she leaves, hating her just for by being who she is. (There could be another tangent about how in both songs she’s there to be a “token” in a game for both of the men, who play her for their own purposes.) The regret is dripping with disdain. It’s as though she’s picturing how the person is going to hate her for doing what she’s thinking of doing the way she hates the person who first hurt her.

Sadness, unsurprisingly, shows up in a few lyrics. In BTTWS, “Everything I touch becomes sick with sadness,” sets the scene of a person so overcome with grief that it permeates everything around them; they cannot see their way out of it and feel like the fog will never lift. In Hits Different, it’s, “My sadness is contagious,” the result of a breakup where the person’s grief again touches everything and everyone around them, pushing them further in their despair and loneliness. The reason behind the grief in either case may vary, but regardless of the source, the feeling is overpowering and isolating. They may be different chapters in the story, but the devastation is hauntingly familiar. (As is a recurring theme in Midnights as a whole: there are situations and feelings that present themselves at different points in her journey and colour in the lines in different ways along the road. Like revisiting an old vice and realizing the hit isn’t quite the same as it was in the past.)

Death by a thousand cuts

She also writes about wounds on this album, which isn't surprising I suppose given that the whole conceit is that these are things that have kept her up at night over the years. WCS is perhaps the driving narrative on this never ending hurt when she sings, “The wound won't close, I keep on waiting for a sign, I regret you all the time,” suggesting that no matter what she does, the pain of this experience has permeated everything she’s done afterwards. (Not unlike the overwhelming grief in BTTWS, for instance.) Elsewhere, in High Infidelity she sings, "Lock broken, slur spoken, wound open, game token," and in Hits Different, "Make it make some sense why the wound is still bleeding.” Again I'm not suggesting they're about the same events; the line in HI is about a situation where a partner crosses a boundary, hits below the belt, picks at an insecurity (or creates a new one) and treats the relationship like it's transactional, opening the floodgates in turn. In HD, the wound seems to be more self-inflicted, where she's pushed the person away. (Over a situation real or imagined she feels she needs distance from.) But again, something has picked at her like a raw nerve, and just like in the past, she's hurting, even in a different time and place and person. Almost like the wounds of the past break open over and over again to create new scars. If one were to extrapolate further, it wouldn’t be the biggest leap to wonder if the wound open in WCS, then torn apart in HI makes the one in HD hurt even more.

(I once wrote a post about how I think as time goes on, WCS is going to turn into one of those songs that will be found to drive so much of her work, because it’s just… kind of the unsaid thesis statement of so much of her songwriting.)

Another repeated theme is that of the empty home and loneliness. In High Infidelity, she sings, "At the house lonely, good money I'd pay if you just know me, seemed like the right thing at the time," painting a picture of someone who may have everything they'd want to the outside world, but in reality feels metaphorically trapped in their home (or at least alone amidst abundance), a symbol of a relationship gone sour and a failure to build connection. She just wants someone to understand her, want her for her, but as she's written earlier in the song, she's just a pawn in the game, a trophy from the hunt. Home, in this case, is lonely, isolated, an emblem of her fears. In Dear Reader, she continues this thread, then singing, "You wouldn't take my word for it if you knew who was talking, if you knew where I was walking, to a house not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there, where I pace in my pen and my friends found friends who care, no one sees you lose when you're playing solitaire." It's the same idea, admitting to listeners that the gilded cage she lived in kept her distanced from her loved ones and real connection, keeping her struggles close to the vest but feeling desperately lonely amidst her crowning success. She's pushed people away and it may have felt like the right thing at the time, but in the end maybe felt like she was trapped. And when you push people away, eventually they take you at your word and stop pushing back; you’re a victim of your own success at isolating yourself. What starts out of self-preservation then further perpetuates the underlying problems.

(There's another interesting link about "home" also feeling unsafe with HI's "Your picket fence is sharp as knives," which further leads into the theme of marriage/domesticity feeling dangerous, which is a whole other thing I won't get into here because it's another discussion and may derail this already gargantuan word salad.)

In a slightly similar vein, we have the metaphor of bad weather for a rocky road or unstable relationship, in High Infidelity again with, "Storm coming, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle" and You’re Losing Me’s "every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes.” They aren’t speaking of the same situation or even same kind of breakdown, but it is pretty interesting how the idea of clouds/storms/floods/etc. play such a role in Taylor’s music to signal depression, apprehension, fear, uncertainty, etc. In HI, I think the “storm” coming is the looming threat of commitment to a partner who makes the narrator uneasy (if not fearful). In this case, the idea of making a life with this person is not one that incites joy or comfort, but instead makes the narrator feel that dark times are ahead if she continues down this path. Perhaps in some way, the “storms” in YLM have made good on the threat in HI in a different way; it’s a different home, a different relationship, but the clouds have settled in regardless, and some of her fears have come to fruition in ways she did not expect. The person she once trusted no longer sees her or her struggles (or worse, doesn’t care), and the resentment and pain build with each passing day.

Coming back to heartbreak, one of the obvious "full circle" moments is the beginning of a relationship in Paris, where she says that, "I'm so in love that I might stop breathing," clearly enthralled in a new love that allows her to shut the world out and grow in private, capturing the all-encompassing nature of the relationship. This infatuation has consumed her in the most wonderful way (in contrast to the sorrow of some of the previous songs), and it feels like a life-altering (or even life-sustaining?) force that is so strong she may forget what it’s like to breathe. (Metaphorically speaking, of course.) By the end of the album, though, in You're Losing Me, that heart-stopping love has become a threat: "my heart won't start anymore for you." In the former, her racing heart is full of excitement, but by the latter, her heart has given out completely under the weight of the pain she bears. (YLM is full of death/illness imagery which I already wrote about awhile ago so I won't hear, but needless to say that song deserves its own essay for so many reasons.) She's gone from the unbridled joy of the beginnings of a relationship to the unrelenting sorrow of its end, two sides of the same coin.

Love as death appears elsewhere in the music too, for instance, in High Infidelity’s, “You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love, the slowest way is never loving them enough" and You’re Losing Me’s “How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying? […] My face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick.” Though not completely analogous situations, they both tell the tale of one partner’s apathy (or at least denial) destroying the other. In the former, the partner’s actions (or inaction) are more insidious, if not sinister; in the latter, the lack of momentum (or admission of a problem) is passive. In both cases, the end result is the narrator’s demise; it’s a drawn out affair that chips away at her morale and her health and her sense of self. (Breaking my own rule about bringing in alleged actual events into the discussion, but the idea that the relationship in High Infidelity, which was obviously fraught with unease and even fear, ended in a similarly excruciatingly slow and hurtful death by a thousand cuts as the relationship in You’re Losing Me almost did at that time must have been so painful. It almost feels like YLM is wondering why what used to be a source of light in her life was mirroring a situation that caused her such pain in the past.)

From the same little breaks in your soul

I said early on that part of what is so compelling about Midnights is that it feels like an album about ruminating — on choices, on events, on people — and the two final “bonus” tracks of the album depict that as well. In Hits Different, she sings that, “they say if it’s right, you know,” an ode to the confusion of a breakup and struggling with the aftermath of calling it quits. It’s a line that has always intrigued me, because the typical use of the phrase is in the sense of, “you’ll know when you meet the one,” but here it seems to have a double meaning, a reassurance perhaps from the friends (who later on tell her that "love is a lie") that she’ll know if she’s made the right decision in calling it off, but could also be her wondering if the relationship is right, she’ll know, and want to reconcile. In the final bonus track, You’re Losing Me, she sings, “now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time,” this time leaving no doubt about the dilemma she faces, though it’s no less fraught. She’s wondering, perhaps for the last time, if now is finally the moment to end the relationship for good. They say that if it’s right she’ll know, and now she’s wondering if that feeling inside her (that once told her her partner was the one, which is why it hit differently), is telling her that it’s time to go for good. Wait Alexa play “It’s Time To Go.” These are not only the things that keep her up at night, but the things that play over in her mind like a film reel in her waking hours.

Midnights as a whole is a deeply personal album, as is most of Taylor's work, but the 3am+ edition tracks seem to dig even deeper to a lot of the issues raised on the standard album. Almost like the standard tracks are the things she wonders about on sleepless nights, but the bonus tracks are the things that haunt her in the aftermath. The regret, anger, sadness, grief, relief, even joy— they’re the price she pays for the memories she keeps reliving. Midnights might be the most cohesive narrative of all her albums, and really does feel like we’re watching someone work through her journal over time, stopping short of outright naming those giant fears and intrusive thoughts (except for when she does) but making them plain as day when you connect the songs together, and perhaps never more clearly than in the expanded album. It’s incredible how the songs stand on their own to relay a specific moment in time, but that they are also self-referential to each other (whether thematically or overtly) to weave a larger web over the entire work. We’re so lucky as fans to have these stories and to keep peeling back these layers as time passes. (And my literature-analysis-loving ass loves her even more for it.)

This is obviously by no means an exhaustive list, and I know there are more parallels and probably even stronger links (particularly when you add the standard version into the mix), but these were the ones that particularly struck me and I’m just glad I’ve had a chance to sit with this and think it through. ❤️

[purplesigebert]

WIP Wednesday #26 - DW Crossover

Hey everyone, as it's my birthday, I think I should give Caroline a break. @sergeantpixie said that Caroline needed a spa day; she's correct.

Let's meet Taylor Caroline at Midnight.

This was her happy place.

Whenever things went wrong, she was stressed, or there was inevitable Mystic Falls drama, and Caroline needed to escape - she always went to the leisure planet Midnight.   

Today was no different, and the staff at the spa knew it.  Caroline didn’t even have to say anything; they just booked her the works.  A blowout, manicure, pedicure, full body massage, a facial with ground up diamonds from the planet, there was an eye mask to keep diamonds from getting in her eyes.

With all the danger that had recently taken place in town, she felt the need to take control of her life, even by doing something dangerous.  She recognized the habit that was starting to form, what with deciding to complete her homework assignment on WW1 in the muddy fields of Europe, instead of at the library.  And the fact that there were now at least four different versions of herself running around London during the height of the Blitz.  When traveling to Midnight, she made sure to set her vortex manipulator to a date prior to her first visit with her dad.  The Midnight entity would be roaming around the planet, that was true, but not in the spa.

So it wasn’t like she was being totally reckless! Next time she was bringing Bekah with her. They could use some girl time.

In between all of the pointless plots and schemes of the past month (had it only been a month since Mikael died?) Caroline was having fun spending time with Rebekah and Kol.  Sure, the novelty of pretending not to know each other had been great at first, but now it was just frustrating. It did give her (relative) immunity from Elijah in terms of pranks, the look on his face when he walked into his study, and found all of his documents out of order, and his carefully organized closet was priceless.  It was a close second to the long game she played regarding his Bonfire Season presents in the fifteenth century; it would take a lot to top that.

But she missed Klaus.  She missed him knowing her, knowing the real her.  Five months ago, he was the one person who knew almost everything about her.  Caroline sometimes thought she could see something in his eyes, when she wore the perfume he had given her, or the earrings that he had given her on their anniversary.  She just didn’t know how to get his memories back.  Well that wasn’t true, the Doctor would probably have the answer she needed but that would mean explain the Klaus of it all. She had already made a pro/con list about telling Klaus, and the pros outweighed the cons - like by a lot.  It just came down to getting the courage to fight for what she wanted, and she wanted Klaus.

The sound of her phone ringing brought her out of her musings.  Checking the caller ID, Caroline rolled her eyes and tossed it back into her bag.  She wasn’t dealing with any Mystic Falls drama for at least the next week.  Turning onto her stomach, Caroline contemplated where to go for dinner - oh who was she kidding?  She knew she was going to end up at the anti-gravity restaurant.  She had even brought her own bib!

[noginerve]

More art

And, speaking of angelic hares, I've been into digimon a lot lately. And lately I've had a bit of a hyperfixation on Cherubimon (Virtue). I promise the attraction is only like...50% sexual. She's a cutie and honestly I'm surprised I've slept on it for so long. Probably because the other form (Vice) is more popular from being the main foe of Digimon Frontier AND, I think, the digimon movie.

For the first one I tried a more daring pose, then realized I didn't know how to draw Cherubimon at all, much less should be trying anything so adventurous, yet. The second one is a bit more about figuring out the basics first. Also because the idea of having a lap pillow from an angel bunny twice my size is super appealing. Like...I'll gladly be the only Cherubimon (Virtue) simp.

[judesstfrancis]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & The Party Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is Steve Harrington's Bisexual Awakening, Oblivious Steve Harrington, Chubby Eddie Munson, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Mutual Pining, Flirting, Getting Together, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Coming Out, Coming Out Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo, The Inherent Homoeroticism of Organized Team Sports, the love is stored in the kitchen Summary:

It’s just past noon on an otherwise ordinary Saturday when Steve Harrington comes out to a gaggle of high school children, quite unintentionally.

[nthflower]

Poolverine is insane because like both parties involved this is the most boring ship of theirs. We need to destroy MCU

[anachronistic-falsehood]

hm. maybe being small would fix me

[pro-bee]

So some of you may know the lore about how I was mad inspired in the fall of 2019/early 2020 after Ziva’s resurrection to write fic and started this multi chapter fic… and then the pandemic happened and I lost interest and haven’t touched it in four years lol.

I don’t know what’s happening this week but I’m betting it’ll blow whatever head canon I had in mind back then out of the water and that fic is going into the vault lmao

Look how far we’ve come friends 😂

[witchern]

i think i'm at the point of this first draft where my brain is just chugging completely on fumes, which means it's time to print the entire thing out and start the heavy revision process for real. TERRIFYING. might hide under a bed. might lie down on the floor. who knows.

[bloodandtime]

exit light, enter night

cw: fem!reader, there’s a lil slightly like squint and you’ll see it angst, fluff, probably eddie being way smoother than he actually is, plus size!reader, kind of insecure!reader but not like self deprecatingly so, uh weed smoking, happy ending :) suuuuuper self indulgent:) also eddie didn’t d*e cause this song came out in ‘91. oh and i have never worked at a vinyl shop so… i went off straight vibes lol

Enter Sandman is ringing through the store as you step in.

“Munson!”

A headful of curls spring up from behind the counter, brown doe eyes wide and anxious as they meet yours, he knows he’s playing the music too loud.

“Hey, sweet thing.” he says as lowers the volume.

Floorboards creak as you make your way to the back room. You can hear Eddie’s boots stomp behind you.

“Eddie, I’ve told you to stop calling me that,” you sigh, shrugging your coat off.

He’s leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, leather jacket under his battle vest, black jeans and combat books sit on his frame. Like they’re made for him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says with a wink.

Embarrassed at being caught, heat creeps up your neck. You groan and shoulder bump him out of the way, trying to ignore how solid he is under those layers.

His laughter follows you to the register.

“Is it just us today?”

He hops up on the back counter. chain jingling as he gets comfortable. He smiles, and it’s sticky sweet.

“Sure is, sweethea-OW.”

He glares as he rubs the spot on his forehead where the pen you threw at him hit.

“Stop flirting with me and work!”

He jumps down from the counter and exaggeratedly looks around the… empty store.

“Yeah, we sure are swamped. How will we ever make it till close?” comes his sarcastic drawl from your side.

You guess the snowstorm outside is keeping customers at home. It’d be a nice evening… if Eddie wasn’t here.

Honestly, he’s fine. It’s more of a you problem. You can’t keep focused when he’s around, and you think he might have caught on. Eddie takes any and all opportunities to flirt with you.

You figured he did that to everyone, not wanting to read too much into it but the only other person he flirts with consistently is Steve.

Sarcasm is how you deflect Eddie’s advances, even though he flirts with just you (and Steve) it’s hard to not think about how he might be fucking with you.

Mess with the fat girl, lead her on, it’s funny. Let her think she has a chance and tear it away from her and laugh at the thought of her thinking anyone would like her.

Ugh, I’m not a teenager anymore, you’d think I’d be past these insecurities by now.

You scrub a hand down your face and sigh, trying to shake yourself out of that toxic thought cycle that’s so easy to fall into.

“You okay?”

Eddie’s still beside you at the register, now leaning against the back counter. He’s staring, brows furrowed.

Despite yourself, you shoot him a soft smile. That catches him off guard, you’re always so quick to the defense.

“Yeah, Eddie. I’m all good, just tired.” you sound it, voice rough.

Before he can ask anything else, you tell him you’re going to work on the returns from this week and get started organizing the vinyl before close.

You’re off to the back before he can even open his mouth, which honestly is impressive. That boy can talk.

It takes about an hour to finish up returns and you shuffle back to the front, shocked to see Eddie has already started organizing.

“Oh shit, tha-,” you’re cut off to Eddie jumping half a foot in the air and yelping out in surprise.

You bite your lip to stop your laugh but it doesn’t stop the shit eating grin that spreads across your face.

He points at you, cheeks flushed, “Don’t.” he says with a finger pointed at you.

You can’t help the giggle that escapes and Eddie’s eyes soften, happy to see you’re smiling. Even if it is at his expense.

“I was going to say thank you for starting to organize, I’ll start from the other end of the store and we can meet in the middle.”

He nods, a sweet smile on his face. Before you get lost in his dimples you busy yourself with vinyl.

It’s been another hour and a half and everything is in its rightful place. Both you and Eddie are sitting on the back counter, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

No one has come in during your entire shift and there’s another two hours before close and the snow still hasn’t stopped.

Eddie leans his head back and lets out a loud groan, “I’m soooooo bored, why can’t we just close?”

He peaks down at you, slumped at his side. He follows the shape of your eyes down the slope of your nose to your lips.

“I know a way we could pass our time,” he blurts out, unable to stop himself. He’s still staring at your lips.

You look up and meet his amber eyes, his gaze more intense than you’re used to. You want to squirm, he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you whole.

“Oh yeah? What should we do?” you bump his shoulder, and he shakes his head and the moment is gone.

He pulls a joint out of his pocket, and your jaw drops.

“I’m not smoking weed at work, Edward!” your voice going up an octave.

He snickers as the horror stricken look on your face.

“Hey, come on. No one has come in and no one will. I’m surprised if we’ll even be able to leave.”

You’re still hesitant, he’s not wrong but you’d rather not get caught.

“Fuck it,” you slap your hands on your tight covered thighs, jumping down your skirt flounces back into place, Eddie tries and fails not to stare, “so where we doing this?”

He hops down beside and gives you another smile, pleasantly surprised you’re going along with this.

“Come on, I’ll show you my spot.”

He runs to the front door to lock it, he makes his way back to you to throw an arm around you to take you to the back.

You don’t fight him, to his surprise. You maybe even lean in a bit, he’s enjoying the contact too much to tease you though.

Turns out his spot is just a covered porch at the back of the record shop, you snag your coat on the way.

“Oh Fuck Me it’s cold,” you gripe as you step outside, the wind whips snow outside the porch, you can’t even see five feet in front of it.

“Shit, maybe you’re right, we wont be able to leave.” you worry, pulling your coat tighter around you, leanings closer to Eddie.

Eddie pulls you closer, relishing in the contact. He doesn’t know why you’re being so nice tonight but he’s not complaining.

“Worst case, you can come with me. The van drives just fine in the snow.” he exhales the first drag, you try not to stare and fail.

He hands the joint to you, your fingers already frozen. As you take a hit you register what he just offered. Now you’re coughing and not just because of the joint.

“Slow down it’s not going anywhere,” he says through a light laugh as he softly rubs your back.

“Did you just offer to take me home with you?”

It’s his turn to cough, and your turn to pat his back. You repeat his words back to him and he gives you a half hearted glare, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I was being gentlemanly and you’re the one making it dirty, I’ll have you know.” he reprimands, wagging his finger at you.

He takes another drag and passes it back, your fingers brush and it’s a shot of electricity up your arm.

The weed is definitely taking effect.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off the way your lips wrap around the joint, right where his lips had just been. An indirect kiss.

You’re quiet when you speak next, after handing him the shrinking joint.

“You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being so kind to me. Makes me get my hopes up even though I know it doesn’t mean anything.”

The wind whistles around you while Eddie and you stare at one another.

You feel his arm pull away from you, and you’re convinced this is it as you look away so he won’t see you cry. He’s going to tell you sorry and he’s not interested. You can handle it, it’s not the first rejection you’ve faced.

You can’t look at him though, tears sting, threatening to fall.

“Hey,” he whispers, softer than you’ve ever heard him, “look at me, please.”

His hands find your cheeks, warm against your wind-chapped skin. Joint long forgotten as he tilts your head to look at him.

“It means something. It does, to me, it does. I’ve liked you since I started here. It’s not a joke and I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way,” he pauses, his thumbs softly graze the tops of your cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” you whisper.

You and Eddie Munson have your first kiss in a snowstorm, freezing cold and perfect.

[fullwets]

someday i will either put my money where my mouth is and start posting again or i will quit talking about fic at all. but until that day i will continue to plug whatever i was on in 2020-21 and stay on my high horse about it

[thebadtimewolf]

why r u so mad about ppl preferring ten x madame de pompadour to ten x martha like ten/martha will never be a thing. ten don’t want anything to do with martha. he literally said to her face she wouldn’t replace rose… and she never did… isnt canon enough for you

hm.

im glad im only a scorpio on this alone. if martha deserved better than ten then so do all of em but anyway:

this ask is giving 2006/07 i dont want to see tenth doctor in a romantic relationship with a person of color because i can't project myself or relate to them if they arent the very thing being catered to me ever since the silent pictures vibes. u know the same vibe when rtd was told to not regenerate 14 in 13's clothes. just. Ick.

but im not mad. its just interesting for a ship so big as tenrose, it is usually correlated with hating madame de pompadour and/or joan and/or river [though in joan's case they hate her not because shes racist but because shes not rose]

though comics tend to release to combat that in multi doctor stories where they jump through various alternate universes of themselves where the doctor sees themselves settled down with dr. grace holloway (for 8th dr multi doctor stories) and professor melody williams/river song (for 11th dr multi doctor stories) where in those cases, they are frightful of the concept settling down at all. [take note that both times, he settles down in the same house that he owns bc of that unit paycheck on the dl] so i am curious that with this new drs, the equivalent of this would be 13 14 15 being terrified of settling down with rose because they had grown past her as this point.

i prefer the doctor in a polyromantic ace relationship than their umpteenth 🌟tragic heteronormative romance with yt human woman number 23445788764443356743🌟 i want 14 to sweep martha off her feet in pure joy and kiss her passionately while badmouthing tf out of 10 like 9 11 12 13 do with no filter before cradling her like a baby because hes about to crumble under his brand new identity complex and then take her kid to an amusement park and then 14 trips over a brick and dies. hell i rather have nina sosanya play a whole different lady in nod to doctor who recycles their actors trope as a way to introduce a love interest to 14

that amusment park one weirdly sounds like a 8th doctor audio. pls 🙏🏾 dont make it into one i couldnt handle schezro let alone the rest of his content. Empire of the Wolf made me so fucking worried for rose marion tyler like im just she back home 🫣. as for rose tyler from the sea devil universe still out about. whoop his ass. if billie come back as HER? MISS COVER MODEL MISS DICTATOR MISS EMPRESS ROSE?

NOT

i would love for ten to be strictly friends with the new miss empress rose. get that martha karma real quick ehehehehe after all rtd did say they need freema for somethin and im sure seeing 10 get treated the same way he treated martha by no other than empress rose herself -AND THEN EMPRESS ROSE FLIRTS WITH MARTHA??? FINGERS CROSSED??? im just saying that i personally will ride on that for 8 black history months and christmases straight like woo

also real glad it is collectively decided by every one that tentoo is just john smith not corin so yay thanks big finish and titan comics

[icarusredwings]

YEEEAAHH!!! PARENT TRAP THOSE OLD FUCKERS!!! MAKE THEM SETTLE DOWN AND LET ELLIE GABBY AND LAURA HAVE A GRANDMA AL AND AN UGLY DOG (and Johnathan the Wolverine)

if the fandom doesn’t include Ellie Wilson in their cute found family Poolverine AUs I’m beating the shit out of everyone and their mama

WITNESS HER.

[torieisawesome99]

My childhood best friend reached out a few months ago after not talking for a few years and we've been talking some again which is such a a bittersweet experience y'all. Like we grew up together she was my first real friend I ever had and most of my favorite memories as a kid include her in some way or another so to lose touch and now have this wide gap in our friendship is something that feels more than a little sad. BUT that also means we have so much to talk about! So many little things and big milestones to celebrate for one another!! Like her and her family recently opened up a food truck in our hometown which is AMAZING I'm so incredibly proud and excited for all of them and I can't wait to visit home soon so that we can catch up in person and of course so I can go check out the food truck (her mom has always been an incredible cook and I'm so excited for her to be able to share her joy in food with the world). Her and her family are incredible and I still hold so much love in my heart for all of them❤️ It might be bittersweet to think that we used to be so close and aren't so much now but im so incredibly thankful to be able to build a friendship with the woman she is now and will always remember when we were girls together

[wolfsbaneandotherfunactivities]

Gabby frfr

i want to throw him against a wall and watch him bleed and then i want him to forgive me for it (nonsexual btw this is about my blorbos)