#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.

[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!

[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 😂

[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

[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)

[pickingupthepunchlines]

2x07 feels like severance’s thesis statement. all of mdr’s hijinks and journeys, all of the goats and the paintings, they exist as ameliorations of the beating heart of the show: there are people who can and will stop at nothing to make their own lives just a tiny bit less uncomfortable. they have the resources to create an underclass in their own bodies, and they do not care about the consequences.

mark has been consumed with grief (& likely targeted by lumon), and, at first, seems to view severance as a gift to his innie: a version of himself with the grief removed. dylan clearly does this for financial reasons — he’s got kids to feed. at the end of the day, they (and irv, and presumably most of the severed workers) are already laborers, already under the boot of capitalists (yes, professors count. they generate value for institutions over which they have little to no say).

in s1, this theme, the blatant disregard of capital for anyone, even the capitalists themselves, is shown via helly and gabby. helena allows helly to be tortured, driven to the point of suicide. when we all saw devon meet gabrielle after she’d given birth, we all thought, “what a horrible thing to do; severing yourself during labor. how awful it must be for gabby, to live only during those painful moments.” and then other stuff happened, and our collective focus drifted.

we cannot look away from 2x07. gemma and her various innies are tortured in the name of research & development. the rooms are full of labor that one cannot outsource: dentist appointments, physical travel, going to the gym (gemma briefly wears gym clothes & we see mauer in a coach’s outfit). you can hire someone to do your taxes or move your belongings or even inflict the kind of cruelty that milchick, cobel, and mauer do every day. an eagan or a rich state senator can eliminate almost all discomfort and unpleasantness from their daily life. almost. because the answer to all of their problems thus far has been the subjugation of others, the building of an increasingly powerless underclass, this is the only solution they can see. they have no interest in developing dental tools that are less painful, workouts that are less laborious, ergonomic pens that write quicker and cause fewer cramps. why would they, when they can just outsource the labor to another self? they don’t care about the costs — not the fact that they are creating another person who will experience only the things they want so desperately to avoid, not the fact that it’s literal brain surgery, not even the fact that severance leaves their bodies open to exploitation by basically anyone (see helly’s speech & dr. mauer’s creepy vibes) — they just don’t want to have to do anything they don’t want to do

if this is how people are willing to treat themselves, their own bodies, the show asks, how will they treat you?

[soldiersgirl]

MEET JOINT! READER . . . ୨ৎ @h8aaz & @soldiersgirl

j o i .ᐟ (short for joint, pronounced joy) . . .

soldier boy always has that damn joint trapped between his lips. smokey fog releasing through the open gap he parted on the side of his mouth. he always found the joints he rolled to be perfect, so good he'd probably fuck them if they were real. and occasionally, while under the blissful headspace of cannabis, he'd catch himself daydreaming about the perfect woman—his joint, always. what'd you think this was? that he'd actually pick an existing woman? fuck no.

⭑ grind the cannabis . . . joi functions, basically full-time, as ben's guiding and soothing hand. much like the real deal, her role in the boys is seen as mellowing ben out; keeping his hunger for sudden violence and unexpected outbursts at bay. she whispers the few right words to him and he, for the most part, unclenches his jaw, softens his gaze, and lets go of his addiction for anarchy... for now. annie is convinced that this is joi's supe-power.

⭑ prepare the filter . . . much like her name, joi is the embodiment of, well, joy! unlike her partner in crime, as ben calls her, joi is sweet, curious, calm, and most importantly, patient. she enjoys long yap sessions, scrounging around the boys hq for the best snacks, and binge-watching her favourite shows (seeing as she finally isn't forced to watch bens anymore).

⭑ fill the rolling paper . . . she might be seen as slow or dopey at times, but joi is calculated, within both physical and spoken combat. put her up against anyone with a knife in her hand and she is walking away unscathed. pit her and ben against each other in an argument and he's walking away pissed, knowing she's won but never admitting it.

⭑ shape, tuck & roll . . . her nimble hands and affection for shiny things has landed in her in hot water, more often than not. stray lighter laying around? whoops, it's in her pocket. someone on the street has a pretty bracelet? swiped it just to "admire it". she's craving her favourite snack? it's hidden under her typical oversized jacket. butcher is considering teaching her how to lockpick seeing as "if she's gonna steal shit, it might as well be fuckin' useful to us, eh?"

⭑ spark up & enjoy . . . unlike how ben treats everything else, with carelessness and heavy-handedly, he tries his best to be careful with her. afraid that she will unravel and fall apart in his hands at any minute. despite joi's fascination with ben, he tries to keep her at an arm's length but much like her true form, he knows he'll become addicted to her if he isn't careful.

check out joi's stash to learn more about her . . .

⭑ smoke break! (joi's origin story)

a/n: AAAAHHH!!! i hope u guys love joi as much as gabriela and i do! joi is originally @h8aaz brainchild but i was so lucky to be able to write about joi with gabbie, so thank u angel <3 owe it to u!! shout out to @daylighted for starting this wonderful idea, i could kiss ur brain <3 and shout out to @titsout4jackles for layout and formatting inspo <3 -`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted @valjy @dulcescorderitas @mostlymarvelgirl @syrma-sensei @rositaslabyrinth @blossomingorchids @deansbbyx @mads-ackles (comment or inbox me to be added)

[semisasseater]

I'll give you my lo lo lo love

✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿. ✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿. ✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿

flirty!bestfriend se-mi x fem!reader

Summary: still half asleep you just pick up whatever you could wear, so what happens when you walk out your room and go to your shared dorm kitchen where your best friend se-mi is just for her to say “is that my shirt?”

Tw: fluff, wuh luh wuh, flirty se-mi, reader just being a flustered embarrassed mess, light romance, slight suggestive themes, lmk if i missed anything!

authors note: RAGHH i feel better now and better enough to write this but its lowkey ass, also yall i miss my wife </3 (gabby) literally im gonna crash out i need to text her 24/7 (¬`‸´¬)

Not proofread!

Word count: 527

✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿. ✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿. ✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿

The sun streamed through the thin curtains of the small dorm room you shared with Se-Mi, your best friend since high school. You were curled up in bed under a mountain of pink blankets, the subtle scent of strawberries lingering in the air thanks to your diffuser. In the room across from yours, Se-mi’s bed was neatly made, her black and white bedding perfectly arranged, a stark contrast to the chaos on your side.

It was an average morning—at least, you thought it was. Half-asleep, you shuffled to the closet to grab a shirt, not paying much attention as you slipped into one that was lying on the back of a chair. It felt a little loose, but comfort was all that mattered at the moment.

You yawned, stumbling into the kitchenette to grab some water. Se-Mi was already there, dressed in her usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, her short black hair perfectly in place. She looked up from her coffee mug, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly.

“Is that my shirt?” she asked, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

You froze mid-step, looking down at yourself. Your cheeks instantly flushed as you realized you’d put on her oversized black t-shirt—the one with a minimalist design you often teased her for being so “edgy” or something.

“Oh my god!” you squeaked, your face heating up. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize—I thought it was mine!” You scrambled to tug at the hem as if to cover your mistake, avoiding her gaze. “I’ll go take it off right now!”

Se-Mi leaned back against the counter, sipping her coffee calmly, her smirk growing into a teasing grin. “No don’t” she said, her voice softer now, almost playful. “It’s cute seeing you wear my things.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting at her words. Before you could even form a coherent response, she set her mug down and stepped closer. Her fingers brushed a stray strand of hair away from your face, and then, without warning, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

Your face went up in red flames. “S-Se-mi!!!” you stammered, completely flustered.

“What?” she said, her tone casual, though the corner of her lips twitched upward. “You’re adorable when your like this”

You buried your face in your hands, unable to handle the intensity of her gaze or the warmth spreading through you. “Y-You’re impossible!”

Se-Mi chuckled. “And you’re the one walking around in my shirt.” She said with cocky grin.

You peeked at her through your fingers, still red-faced but unable to hold back a small, shy smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t have your clothes in my room” you muttered.

“Or” she said, tilting her head, “maybe you should just wear them.”

The dynamic between you two—her effortlessly confident, you hopelessly flustered—wasn’t new, but somehow, this moment felt different. More charged. Maybe the people who always assumed you were a couple weren’t so far off, after all.

You were too shy to say anything more, so you just stood there, feeling your heart race as she grabbed her coffee and walked back to her room, leaving you in her shirt and your thoughts.

✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿. ✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿. ✿　.　˚　. 　 ˚　✿

@semisasseater

[novamariestark]

back again with another hank request 😅

the reader gets into a bar fight with some random girl that’s talking shit about hank and their relationship, so the reader feels like she needs to defend him. the bartender instead of calling the cops, just calls hank. hank comes in and is kind of laughing to himself a little bit as he just effortlessly throws the reader over his shoulder and is like “alright slugger time to go home” or something like that.

Army - Hank Voight

Summary: No one talks shit about your man. Simple.

Warnings: None?? Except bad writing? 🤣

Word count: 1109

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

Molly’s was buzzing with energy, as it usually was at this time. People like you, who had either a successful day at work and wanted to celebrate, or a stressful day and wanted to drink it away, filled the bar. This, however, was your usual habitat at this time—not because you were stressed or celebrating, but because it gave you something to do while waiting for your boyfriend, Hank Voight. He usually worked late, and you’d come here to kill time until he could swing by and pick you up.

You were nursing your drink at the bar, half-listening to the background noise when you overheard a voice mention your boyfriend’s name, followed by a sentence that made your blood boil.

"Must be nice dating a guy who can make all your problems disappear…"

You froze, the words echoing in your ears as the rest of the noise in the bar became nothing but a backtrack. The woman sitting a few seats down didn’t even bother to keep her voice low, her friends laughed along with her. Your eyes narrowed in her direction, glaring daggers into the back of her head which was covered in fake blonde hair and cheap extensions. Your hands clenched tighter around your drink as you thought about ripping them out her head.

Behind the bar, Gabby, who had been putting freshly cleaned glasses away, caught the conversation and saw the storm brewing in your eyes. She sighed, already knowing where this was headed. She placed the last glass on the shelf before stepping away from the bar. Gabby slipped her phone out of her pocket and quickly dialled her brother.

"Oh yeah," another one chimed in, laughing quietly, "I bet she pays him back for those favors. You know, in her own whore way. I mean that’s the only reason he’s with her."

They both giggled, sending a smug glance your way. And that was it. They had just dropped a match over a pool of gasoline. Your grip on your glass tightened as you slowly turned in your seat.

You tilted your head, giving her a slow, dangerous smile. "I’m sorry, I was too busy daydreaming about ripping out your crappy extensions. What did you just say?"

The first woman leaned back, tossing her hair over her shoulder with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "You heard me. Come on, it’s Voight. Everyone knows the guy bends the rules. I’m just saying, must be nice to have all your messes cleaned up for you. I’m sure you find ways to thank him for that."

Your vision blurred red. "You don’t know a damn thing about him or me."

"Oh please," she scoffed, "Everyone knows he gets his hands dirty, and you just smile and reap the benefits. Well… we also know you do a little more than just smile."

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you slammed your drink down and stood up.

"Say that again. I dare you."

The woman blinked at your challenge, clearly not expecting you to bite back so directly. Her lips curled into a smug grin as she leaned forward, her eyes locked on yours.

"I said," she began slowly, "everyone knows you’re just Voight’s little sidepiece, riding his coattails. And when things get messy—" she paused, glancing at her friends, who were snickering like schoolgirls, before her eyes found yours again, "—he cleans it all up. But we all know you do more than just sit pretty. Bet he’s got you on your knees thanking him every time."

Your heart pounded in your chest, the blood rushing to your ears as the last bit of your restraint snapped. You could practically see yourself launching at her, your hands in her fake blonde hair, dragging her off her stool.

Behind the bar, Gabby had moved out of sight, her phone pressed to her ear as she muttered something, "Hey, it’s me," Gabby said quietly. "Let Voight know his girl’s about to take someone’s head off."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your fists clenched so hard your knuckles turned white. The woman raised an eyebrow, as if daring you to do something. "Oh, what? You gonna hit me?" she mocked, getting more giggles from her friends who maybe had one braincell between them.

You didn’t even think twice as your fist flew forward, landing squarely on her jaw. The shock in her eyes was priceless, but it was quickly replaced by a furious scowl as she stumbled back into her seat.

"Whoa, Y/N!" Gabby shouted, starting to rush around the bar, but you were already past the point of no return.

The woman recovered quickly, lunging at you with a wild swing. You ducked, avoiding the slap by inches, and shoved her back, sending her crashing into the table behind her. Her friends were still laughing, egging her on, which only fueled your anger more. You were ready to go at it again, fists clenched and teeth gritted.

And then you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist, lifting you effortlessly off your feet. Before you could even register what was happening, you were hoisted up and over someone's shoulder effortlessly.

"Alright, slugger, that’s enough for tonight." A deep, familiar voice told you.

You blinked down and found yourself looking at the back of Hank Voight’s leather jacket as he carried you toward the door, his grip firm but gentle.

"Put me down, Hank!" you growled. He just chuckled as you squirmed slightly in his grip, "Hank, come on, let me at her just for a second," you pleaded, your eyes narrowing back toward the bar.

Once you were outside, he put you down on your feet. Hank shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You already gave her a taste,"

“But,” you said, gesturing back to the bar, intending to plead your case as to why he should let you back in there to smack the taste out that bitch’s mouth.

Hank grabbed your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it before leading you towards his car, “No buts,”

You sighed, knowing full well he wasn’t going to let you go back, so you just snuggled into him as you walked. Your right arm moving to hug his, your chin resting on his smooth leather covered shoulder.

“I’ve still got some paperwork to do, can I trust you not to start a fight with Rusek?”

You smirked, leaning in closer to kiss the skin just below his ear, “I don’t know, maybe you’ll have to handcuff me,”

“Don’t tempt me, beautiful,”

[yannasuniverse]

Can I get a Gabby Williams smut please. Like where it’s at a game where she won and we are giving her an reward

𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝!

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Gabby Williams x Wife!Teammate!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After the Seattle storm wins yet another game you decide give gabby reward for playing so good.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Smut, semi public sex, smut with no plot, hair pulling, eating out (g receiving) fingering (g receiving), slightly praising, aftercare

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚: Am not that good at writing smut fr so am sorry if it’s bad I hope you like this

Only moan’s could be heard inside the locker room. Gabby sat in her locker eyes rolled in the back of her head as your finger pounced in and out of her soaking cunt.

“Your doing so good for me baby” you teased a bit, wanting to mess with her a bit slow down your pace. A whine left Gabby’s mouth bucking her hips slightly.

“Stop teasing” she said looking down at you, giving her a innocent smile “I don’t know what your talking about”.

A loud cry came out of her mouth as your tounge flick her clit sucking on it, the pleasure building up in her stomach, grabbing the back of your head pulling you deeper in her slick and saliva coated cunt. You began to hum sending little vibrations though Gabby’s body “i'm gonna cum, fuck just like that” she wailed.

Her head flew back eyes roll to the back of her head overwhelmed by the pleasure. A long sultry moan left Gabby’s mouth before cumming on your mouth and fingers. Her grip on your hair loosened as you felt her body slump a bit, pulling your fingers out of her puts them in your mouth sucking them clean.

Standing up off your place on the floor going to your own locker grabbing a towel. Walking back over to your now asleep wife, beginning to clean hair up grabbing a pair of her sweatpants slipping them on her and all her other things.

Shaking Gabby awake “Come on, you can go back to sleep in the car” she gets up stretching letting out a yawn a look of discomfort was on her face.

“I’m feel so sore” hearing her say this a proud smirk made it’s way too your face “was it worth it?” You ask “totally worth it”.

[sweetbans29]

Tiny Dancer - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You dedicate your senior showcase to Caitlin (based on THIS request)

Warnings: none that I can see

Word Count: 1.3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am not 100% how to write dance but I did the best I could, IM SORRY.

"I have a surprise for you," you say as you jump down on Caitlin's bed.

Your girlfriend groans and turns over, wanting to get more sleep out of the lazy morning the two of you are having.

"Is it more sleep?" Cait's voice is groggy as she speaks.

"No, no it's not," you say and wait for her to look back at you, which she does not.

"Don't you want to know what it is?" You ask as you kiss her shoulder.

Caitlin knows she is not going to win this battle and turns back over to you.

"What is it babe," Caitlin says.

"I can't tell you," you say with an excited smile. Caitlin rolls her eyes and rolls back over with a groan. When you see her reaction you say, "It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you."

Cait groans and buries her head back into her pillow. You can't help but giggle at your sleepy bear. Your arm wraps around her waist as you assume the big spoon position. Anyone looking at you as the big spoon would laugh due to your height difference with the college star but if anyone were to ask you would tell them how Caitlin loves to be the held.

The rest of your morning is as lazy as you imagined it to be. Whenever Cait had a day off, she didn't want to do anything outside of the confines of her apartment. Part of that was being able to sleep as long as she wanted but the main reason was to be able to spend the whole day with you.

The two of you started dating early in high school. You were both each others first relationship. It wasn't what you would call normal considering you both attended a Catholic high school influencing the decision to keep your relationship a secret. At first it was fun, then became a challenge. It wasn't until senior year of high school where it became comfortable.

When heading into Iowa, nothing really changed. Your relationship remained a secret as the two of you navigated college. Due to it being so normal for the two you, no one suspected a thing. It may also be due to the fact that the two you are in completely different sides in the athletic realm of Iowa. Caitlin is the star basketball player while you are majoring in dance.

When it is time for you to go, your go up to Cait who is engulfed in a game on her PS5. You kiss the top of her head and then ruffle her hair.

"Doors open at 6 tonight, I left your tickets on the counter," you say on your way out. She gives you a little wave and you are on your way.

Tonight would be the first time you showcase your senior project. You had been working on it all of first semester and couldn't wait for all your hard work to be seen. Your groups of dancers had given you everything you had asked for and more.

When 6 o'clock rolls around, Caitlin and a few of her teammates are standing in line to get into the theater.

"How did we end up here again?" Gabby asks.

"Caitlin has a friend or something in the show," Kate says.

Caitlin nods. She loves watching you perform, has ever since the two of you started dating. As the two of you navigated a private relationship, she would never greet you after shows but would rather take you out once everyone has cleared and there was a guarantee no one would notice the two of you together. Tonight was going to be no different.

The three players took their seats and the show begins. There were several pieces that you were in and Caitlin paid close attention whenever she saw you on stage. She clapped a little longer after you had performed but not to raise any suspicion.

Cait knew your senior piece would be in the second half. So when the lights dimmed, she was counting down the pieces until yours made its appearance. When it was finally time, Caitlin sits forward.

She sits and watches as you and your dancers take the stage. It takes her a second at first but as she watches it, she realizes that you somehow were able to capture the stages of your relationship in a beautiful and breathtaking dance.

Your movements captured your meeting, navigating the challenges of your relationship, and the love that the two of you have despite what felt like the world fighting against the you. She doesn't know how you do it, but as Caitlin watches, she knows every event your included in your piece. She takes a trip down memory lane, one that brings tears to her eyes.

Every movement. Every breath taken. It all comes together to show your love for your girl sitting in the audience.

After the show ends, you are greeted with a plethora of people congratulating you. You are surprised when you feel a pair of arms come from behind, lifting you up and spinning you around.

You are too surprised to let out a scream but are comforted when your hands come to support yourself on the unknown arms and you realize whose they are.

Caitlin puts you down, hands on your waist to spin you around and envelopes you into a hug. She buries her face in your neck. You arms find their way around her neck as you breathe her in. Cait doesn't care who can see or what they see, she is so beyond proud of you. Not only that, but no one has ever given her something so meaningful.

"Babe, people can see," you say into her ear.

"I don't care," she says not letting you go.

Kate and Gabby come up and see Caitlin holding onto your for dear life. They give each other a look and nod.

It takes another few minutes before Caitlin lets you go but her hand remains on your lower back.

Kate is the first one to introduce herself. You know who she is but hav never officially met her. She goes to shake your hand but your pull her into a hug.

"I am a huge fan," you say as you try not to fangirl over the basketball teams captain.

Caitlin stands there shaking her head.

"Huge fan huh?" Kate says with a smile.

"You are my favorite player on the team," you say without hesitation. Caitlin chimes in.

"That is her favorite player who isn't her girlfriend," Caitlin says, her jealousy showing.

Your eyes go wide as you whip your head to look at her. She just shrugs.

"What? You would have to be blind to not know after the way I just greeted you," she says.

"So that's it, 7 years just out in the open now," you say and Caitlin shrugs again.

"7 years!" Gabby yells. "The two of you have been together since before coming here and we are just now finding out?"

"Well out parents still don't know..." you say.

"I think it is time to change that," Caitlin says as she pulls your into her side and kisses the top of your head.

The fear you have held in for so long is no where to be seen. You trust Caitlin with every fiber of your being and know she is the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. With graduation right around the corner and Caitlin declaring for the draft, you were ready for your life together to begin.

AN: A short but cute one. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support.