#my midnight thoughts lol

[cadriox]

To confess, I’m not great at drawing eren.

Despite the amount of times I had drawn him, I still don’t fully get him. It could be that I’m too dumb or too much of a casual fan for deep analysis, but AOT has failed to conclude his character for me.

To me Eren is a deeply traumatized individual who failed to mature. He’s a self-righteous man child. But there’s also some ancient evil yadayada messing with his head that isayama couldn’t clear up it up for me, so at this point I still don’t know why eren committed rumbling.

Interestingly, this shows in my art HAHA.

Most of my eremin art is seen from armin’s POV, eren remains either a mystery or partially seen. Eren from Armin’s POV works better in my drawings bc he’s an incomplete character, a huge mystery even, he makes no sense to me sometimes, but above all he’s a symbol of doom and rage.

(“POV” is rather vague in illustrations esp when a lot of them can be objective. To me POV applies when the drawing leans toward one character’s bias, feelings, and how they see things.)

Here’s an example of Eren from Armin’s POV:

Altho one thing I understand for sure is his relationship with armin, the way he idolizes and adores him, putting him on the pedestrian (and doom him in the process)

My Eren’s POV art:

[poethebeloved]

I think what the QSMP could use is a true "villain" character. Right now we have Cucurucho/the Federation as the main antagonist, but they are very separate from the players and have so much power that they feel wholly unapproachable. As much as the members have been fighting back against the Federation, a lot of that fight has stopped because they realize they cannot destabilize their power. But having an island member be the villain would band members against an enemy that there is an actual chance of taking down. And this villain would be so much more complex and intriguing by virtue of having human flaws and weaknesses.

Sure, we have characters that sympathize with the Federation, but no one really has bad intentions. I don't even consider q!quackity/elquackity a villain bc q!quackity is simply morally grey and elquackity is just a pawn of the Federation. But a real villain would be so fun to see. Like, just an objectively villainous guy: someone who is a downright sleazy motherfucker who runs the show and fucks everyone's life up. The mastermind who is power hungry and plays dirty. They can be tied to the origins of the island or not, either way I think it could really shake things up and bring an interesting dynamic to the server.

[dapper-lil-arts]

If Scitwi had Whatsapp 🤔

[cloudcastor]

secret rendezvous

[midnightmah07]

*passes out*

[wardingshout]

Family for day 6 of SpeSilverWeek! Edition uuh found biological and crime I guess...

[jonahmagnus]

Hahaha whattt

[westmeath]

Excerpt on Midnight Cowboy from an interview with John Schlesinger in Literature/Film Quarterly, 1978:

Riley: When I've shown the film to students, they have very mixed feelings about the ending. How do you see that? What is that moment to Joe? Is it affirmative, or is it despairing?

Schlesinger: I don't see it as a despairing ending. I feel that it's a catharsis to the whole film. It's a catharsis of a boy who has been lost and who has these strange memories of being picked out for sexual prowess and how important that seemed to him. He has this whole experience of going to New York and finding that the fantasy is total bullshit and that the reality of life there is one of eking out some kind of existence, and then he finds the relationship that he strikes up with Ratso. Some people have said it's a homosexual relationship, but it really isn't per se. It's about the need of one human being for another. I daresay that Ratso- if anybody had found him attractive, man, woman, or dog- would have been anxious to express it physically perhaps. That's why he was so hostile towards it all. But I think that having made a commitment to Ratso, Joe realized the whole ludicrousness of the situation. On the bus he ruminates about the possibilities of what he's going to do, and I think in the back of his mind his taking Ratso to Miami is a kind of gesture. I think he knows it's hopeless. That's what I remember discussing with Jon Voight, that Joe knows they aren't going there for a life together in the future. He knows that Ratso's probably not going to survive the journey. At the end when he sits there with Ratso, I don't think Joe's saying, "Now what am I going to do? I'm lost." I think he's already released himself from the fantasy, he already knows that he's going to be okay.

It certainly never struck me as we were doing it that we were making something that was meant to send the audience out in deep depression feeling that Joe Buck is totally lost, because I don't think he is.

Riley: As a matter of fact, he's saved.

Schlesinger: Yes, and I think he's saved by that relationship, by discovering something about the possibilities of a human relationship in the midst of this very unlikely one. That's exactly what attracted me to the material.

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: this got long sorry 😔 but creepy/perv bakugou, recording, film major bkg x art major reader, masturbation, coercion, dubcon before it just becomes con, voyeurism/exhibitionism

as an art major, you typically did some works for a few students on campus; for their plays, as background pieces while they danced, a cover for their released songs. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for people to ask you to create something for them, and you enjoyed it more often than not. but, you weren’t usually the art itself.

Bakugou is a friend’s friend that you’ve seen a few times, ran into at the library or at coffee shops. he’s a film major, and always looks so unhappy about the whole thing, as if he didn’t choose it himself. you joke to Mina that you think he’ll graduate and become one of those directors that hate everything and yell at the actors constantly and later on get sued for being a dickhead. you never say it to him though—you’ve never spoken more than a couple words to the man.

it’s why it shocks you when he approaches you one day. it’s after one of your painting classes, and he stands outside the door with a frown and his hands shoved in his pockets, his eyebrows scrunched as if pissed at the mere sight of you. he asks you, in that low and gruff tone of his, if you could star in his final project for the semester. says it’s supposed to be a film made with this criteria and that, but, you’ve kind of checked out on the conversation after the first sentence.

“You mean, you want me to create something and that be the star of your film?” you ask him, feeling so intimidated at his stature. he always seems to loom, his hair shadowing the lights above, creates a cast over a portion of his face, makes his eyes look…unsettling. like they’re looking straight through your flesh, can find the marrow in your bones. he scoffs like you’ve offended him, rolling his eyes into his skull, mouth pulled tight.

“No.” his voice is firm, gaze concentrated only on you, like the halls are empty and you’re the focus of his lens. “I want you to star in it.”

his words confuse you—you’ve never presented yourself as an actor before, never alluded to wanting to be in the spotlight if not for what you create with your hands. but he shuffles on his feet, looks desperate even. there’s some hemming and hawing for a minute or so—why not choose Mina?—she’s busy—why choose me?—‘cause you’d be perfect for my short film—what’s it about?—you’ll find out once you get the script.

and even after you hesitantly agree and get the script—you still don’t understand what you’re doing. why you’re here, why you’re the only person, why it has to be a solo film, why there’s damn near zero lines in the entirety of the have-to-be forty five minute film.

the scenes are all so long, and maybe it’s because movies aren’t your forte or chosen major, but you just don’t get it. one scene; you’re staring at yourself in the mirror while Bakugou holds a small, black camera over your shoulder. he’s eerily quiet behind you, whispers out a faint fuckin’ go when you have to wash your face in the sink, makes you do it over because your movements are too jerky and unnatural.

the rest of the scenes go that way; you doing regular at home activities, being put under a lens, quietly barked at to do this and move that way and fix your hair and remember to frown.

“Isn’t there another way to film this?” you ask him on the fifth day of shooting in his spacious loft. there’s a bubble bath scene coming up, one you dont understand the importance of, but Bakugou tells you it’s the most necessary part of the entire thing.

“No,” he grunts out, looking at you from under his lashes as he sits on the lid of the toilet. “But I’ll make it soapy, so the camera won’t see much.” the camera? much? you weren’t worried so much about what the camera captured as you were the man behind it. he looks at you with such intensity, you feel naked already despite the robe you wear that’s suspiciously already your size.

he leaves the bathroom when you sink in the hot water, returns before you can say it’s okay, hears the water splashing and thinks that’s good enough. he kneels on the floor beside you, camera pointed directly in your face, makes your chest hot and your skin feel prickly. the scene passes on regularly enough; you run the water over your arms, tilt your head back as you sigh, whisper the few lines scripted, lean back and close your eyes, sigh again. it’s almost relaxing, makes you forget about the friend of a friend recording you naked right now. almost.

“Touch yourself.” Bakugou suddenly demands, hushed and quiet behind the camera. your eyes immediately shoot open, looking to him in question, how he’s eerily still in his spot hovering over you.

“Huh?” you ask, unsure if you heard him correctly, looking around the rounded lens in your face, trying to ignore the red blinking light. but Bakugou only frowns.

“It’s a masturbation scene. Touch yourself.” he repeats, voice louder, more demanding this time. your stomach twists at the thought of doing something so intimate in front of him. he’s a handsome guy, for sure, even made you consider asking him out after this, figured he was just serious about his work and awkward about certain things. but…something had been off about this entire thing since the start.

“But—but I don’t, I’m not,” you stutter, sitting up a little, the bubbles covering your chest starting to disperse with your movements. but Bakugou only sits a little higher on his knees, finally pulling the camera away from his face for the first time since he’s asked you to do this for him.

“You want me to fail?” he asks, booming voice eerily quiet in the silent bathroom, carmine eyes dull, shaded over with something terrible. “Then do it.” he tells you when you shake your head quickly.

you stare at him until he gets back into position again, camera back pointed at you. when he doesn’t say anything else, you swallow thickly, wondering if the art that will come out of this will be worth it. so you listen, sneak a hand under the water, start touching yourself in a way you never have in front of anyone.

is it bad to say that it’s exhilarating? being watched and recorded by someone who breathes so heavily every time your voice hiccups? being directed to touch your chest next when the suds start to disappear and your nipples start to peek through? is it bad that you want him to send you this portion of his film, only, just so you can watch yourself again and again? make a portrait of yourself with your fingers on your nipples and your knees raising from the water and your head thrown back from the intensity in oil pastels?

“That’s a wrap.” Bakugou announces when you finish, head spinning and still panting. you look over to him, how he closes the camera, the obvious bulge in his pants. “I’ll get you a towel.”

you wonder when’s the next time he’ll need you. or better yet—maybe he could be the star in your final drawing project? you had finished it already but, what was the harm in starting over with him as your muse? as naked as you are? camera not blocking his face so you can paint the similarities of his blushing cheeks and eyes when you direct him to look at you? to touch his chest? to play with himself just like that?

[sclfmastery]

Also screaming that the entirety of this episode revolves around the Doctor NOT running, but standing in the same place while his very worst fears for a companion unfurl. He is powerless to use both of his compulsive habits: run and help, or run and hide. He's powerless because if he does either of those things he will hurt everyone else.

[gale-force-storm]

You know, I think my favorite thing about Gale's whole "watching you in battle makes me horny" scene is like. He's not wrong. A brush with danger does in fact increase one's desire for "other forms of stimulation". Studies have shown that being in situations that cause a rush of adrenaline, be that going on a roller coaster, seeing a scary movie, walking across a swinging suspension bridge, or something else, increase feelings of attraction. It's literally a Known Thing that adventurous stuff is great to do on a date because it will most likely make you more into each other.

Idk, I just love that his come-on is not only extremely nerdy, but also scientifically accurate. Feels correct and I'm glad they did it lol

[anecdotal-acorn]

tbh i headcanon that the newsies called him crutchie before he got his crutch because the boys can lean on him figuratively, coming to him for advice and always knowing they can count on him to pull through/be there for them

[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. ❤️

[saltedcaramelchaos]

the best kind of friends are those to whom you can say, "I'm grateful to the universe for creating you".

[monodramatic-cannibal]

I LOVE DOG CODED CROSS TOO! I always see him as that dog that survived so much and now that he can rest and receive affection, he doesn't know how to let his guard down, how to know which hand will be gentle and which will be aggressive. I like his silly side too, but THIS side, he's just very special to me.

PLEASE TALK MORE ABOU HIM

Losing my mind rn. Cross to me has neglected shelter dog rizz, he just wants to sit on the couch and watch tv with someone. Is that too much for him to ask. (Also this is going to be all over the place, me just throwing thoughts out there to see what sticks. Also me talking about this can be taken romantic or platonic routes, I don't mind how anyone sees it. Also throwing in a bit of weapon coded Cross in there as a treat.)

I love the concept of feral dog coded turning into guard dog coded. Like Cross has been through so much, I think he deserves to bite people. As a treat.

I know Cross has canon fangs, but I also like to imagine he has claws too. Just I want him to be sharp. Also this is OOC, but I don't care I'm having fun.

____

I imagine Cross has a very specific type of fear he shows, it's the equivalent of a cornered pray animal that has nowhere to go and nothing to do but fight for his life.

Given all that has happened to him, especially later on into his life, him becoming like a fighting dog to protect himself. Being alert and lashing, snarling, clawing at anything that moves too quickly or is too loud. Not even trusting those who approach slowly and quietly, seeing them as people who want something from him or assuming they only want to get close to him to hurt him. Which leads him to especially snap at those people, wanting to hurt those that get too close.

He's basically become a walking weapon, something sharp that stabs and slashes, tears and scratches. Now wondering around without anyone to wield him as a weapon. Now having no use, no purpose.

____

(me talking about a build up of someone trying to get to know Cross)

Him not knowing why someone would approach him, being so confused when they don't make an effort to come too close, the other quietly sitting down a bit away from him trying to show they're not a threat, while also giving Cross his space. Cross not liking this and walking away every time, but this other person is persistent.

The other slowly starting to talk after the first few times in a soft tone, telling Cross about themselves, not worrying if Cross is even listening. Just wanting him to get used to their voice and company.

After a while the other starts to give Cross little offerings, such as food or ways to entertain him, trying to inch Cross closer with each coming day. Cross would lash out at these gifts at first, thinking they'd expect something in return, or seeing these gifts as a threat, like what happens if the food is poisoned, he wasn't about to take that chance. Him lashing out throwing things back, snarling and hissing. Him even daring to get close enough to try to take a swipe at the other. But after the other offers him chocolate he just can't resist but have it. Slowly opening up to the idea of their gifts.

Asking the other what the point of all this is. And the other just smiling at him. Looking at him like he means something to the world again. And he wants to cry, he wants to scream and lash out. But all he can do is stare back for a few seconds before fleeing away. The look scaring him half to death. How can someone look at him like that. With so much kindness, no malice, don't they know the things he's done, he's tried to hurt them. And yet they still looked at him like that.

After a while of this back and forth of spending time with Cross and giving him things now and then Cross will start to sit closer, just over an arm's length away, shooting the other unsure glances always having his body angled in such a way he can defend himself if needed.

The other person one day lifting and offering their hand to Cross. Doing a little bit too quickly for Cross's taste leading to him lashing out at the hand, digging his claws into their wrist and latching his teeth onto the hand.

Which 100% would lead into the story you wrote of Cross biting. (I love that short story sm, once I found it I couldn't stop going back and reading it over and over again).

____

Him now realizing he may have someone he can trust, he's hurt them a lot and yet they've continued to work with him. Him now realizing he can at least trust their touch, even if its only for short periods of time. Them always offering up their hand and him always reluctantly shoving his head into their palm, closing his eyes tight and nuzzling, sometimes a light whine coming from him. Always nuzzling the hand, the hand that now has a permanent mark of his worry and anger. But the other always uses their thumb to softly rub his cheek to comfort him.

It would take him a while to get closer than the arm's length, only being able to do it minutes at a time any longer, and he'd start to panic, still being unsure on letting himself fully trust the other.

Just him not being able to process any of the kindness given to him. It's something now foreign to him, he still has his moments where he gets too anxiety ridden and lashes, but he's quick to back himself up to shoot the other sympathetic glances and whines.

Then one day it's like a switch got flipped in his head, he's quick to approach the other on their next visit to him, waiting for them to sit before he sits next to them then suddenly leans his head on them, shoving himself into them in an effort to get any sort of attention, either it be positive or negative, he didn't care at that moment in time.

He doesn't know what to think of this feeling, but also doesn't want it to go. Unsure if all of it will be taken away from him. But then quickly realizing he doesn't want this feeling to go, so clings and claws at the other in a desperate attempt to get them to stay.

A sort of 'bite the hand that feeds' sort of situation as he is still unsure on what any of it means so cannot process the kindness given to him as kindness. He's still partly stuck in the mindset that the other must want something. But all the other does is softly pet the back of his skull, quietly talking to him, trying to comfort him. Something in him breaks, and he becomes a sobbing mess. shuddering and whining. Being physically unable to control his emotions, now understanding the other is here for him not for anything else.

____

The other has dedicated so much time to befriending Cross that they now have a very loyal guard dog that wants to go everywhere with them, always at their side like a thorn in skin.

He's devoted to them, and craves any sort of praise or physical affection from them. Despite all the work put into him, there's still such a long way to go with him. He will still sometimes go on edge when the other moves too quickly. Or he's too nervous to get attention most of the time out of fear of upsetting them or coming across as too needy.

Seems like the type of guy to shake/shiver if the other was to touch him, either it be out of anticipation of waiting for the other to hurt him in some way, or finally getting the softness and validation he craves. Him quietly hanging out in the same room as the other person, giving them side glaces. Wanting to approach but being unsure, but deciding a possible reward outweighs the risk and just walking over looking like a kicked puppy. Settling himself down next to the other and resting his head on them eyes closes, praying that he will receive a soft touch rather than a hit.

I'd also like to think, despite all the trust and work, he will always still bite and scratch, but it won't nearly be as bad, more so a warning nip of his teeth, a light warning telling the other how fragile this trust is.

Cross now finding a purpose with this person, even if he sees his purpose in an unhealthy light, seeing himself as a weapon for this person to use as they please. He will always need work and praise, he will always need someone to tell him he isn't a weapon.

____

oh whoops wrote a bit there.

I don't know if any of this can be seen as dog coded, but I did attempt to write it as such. Also I'm not much of a writer so forgive my style of writing.

[midnightdemonhunter]

Fantasy high junior year....save me fantasy high junior year.....