#Melancholia band

[shiftingwitholiver]

introducing..... Olive's Band DR!!!

MELANCHOLIA

Straight out of the republic of Ireland, Melancholia is an alternative indie rock band that will have you screaming into the void and make you feel like a complete badass, on the bus, at their concert or in your bedroom. The band consists of 4 members: Olive Payne [ooc: that's me!!!] (vocals,guitar and occasionally violin), Finley 'finn' Murphy (vocals and guitar), Aoise Catton (bass guitar & keyboard) and Teya Byrne (drums). They released their debut album in early march 2023 and since then have released an EP and 4 singles, even playing at many sold out venues on their first ever UK & Ireland tour.

"i think my dad might be our biggest fan" says Finn "when we were still in high school, just starting to get this whole band thing together, he would give us an hour or two on a friday night and we would play covers and eventually our own music in his pub. Most of us (bar Olive) had lived in that town our whole lives, so people were incredibly supportive. Without my dad giving us that i don't think we'd be here now "

[borntowildfire]

[vinsnerdystuff]

songs that show why i love blur :P

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

[tomsmusictaste]

Doll Skin // Melancholia

[cherrybitezz]

Spotify Stats From The Last 4 Weeks♡

if you want to see your stats go to:

[spindly-killers]

Not Spindly Killers

[writethrough]

How about a comfort fic with Vessel/reader? Your choice on if Vessel comforts the reader or the reader comforts Vessel!

Just Like Rain

(Vessel x Gender Neutral Reader)

Synopsis: Your anxieties overtake you, and Vessel is there to guide you through them.

Warnings: Self-deprecation, thoughts of unworthiness and self-hatred, language, unintentionally cathartic for me

Word Count: 1557

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I'm so excited for you to read my first Vessel fic!

A little housekeeping for those who have read through my Request Guidelines, and may be confused about me writing for a real person when it says I don't. That is still the case, but Vessel is a character when it comes down to it. So, I feel comfortable writing for him, especially in the way I've written him here.

Also—and I hope this goes without saying—I will not entertain theories and rumors about any of Sleep Token's identities.

Enjoy the music for what it is, as the band intended. And I truly hope you enjoy my interpretation of Vessel.

The burn felt good. The steam made you breathe heavier, but you didn’t want this to be easy. You wanted to feel every inhale—stand under the water until you were seared from within; until it felt like you were in your body and not a whisper away from being dragged into oblivion. 

You choked back a sob; still so fearful someone would hear you when you were the only one home. 

There was no reason for you to cry. 

So many people had it so much worse. 

But here you were, on the verge of panic because you didn’t feel like yourself. You didn’t even feel human. 

You wished you could put a name to it, but you couldn’t. 

What was wrong with you? 

Why did you have to feel like this? It came out of nowhere. Like you were struck by a fucking semi. 

You just wanted it to stop. You wanted to feel normal, to not have these sudden bouts of...of what? Melancholia? Sadness? Anger? No word seemed strong enough for it. 

All you wanted was to rip it out. 

Your tears fell harder. 

The water cooled. You turned the knob further. 

And then there were arms around you. 

You tensed, choking back your sobs and covering your mouth as if you could hide what he had already seen. 

Slowly, carefully, as if you would break, Vessel turned you to face him. 

Without a word, he cupped the back of your head and brought it into the crook of his neck. 

You refused to remove your hand. 

All it did was make your shoulders tremble. 

His fingers traced up and down your arm, more of a breeze than a touch. His other hand slid down to the back of your neck. The pressure of it spread through your body. 

Your hand dropped from your mouth and tentatively found its way to his chest. And as he inhaled, you let your hands travel to his back as you stepped closer. 

He held you there, head resting atop yours. 

It was only when you shivered that you realized he had turned you, blocking you from the piping hot spray. 

You sniffled, finally looking at him. 

He cupped your cheeks, brushing away the tear tracks, then pressed his forehead to yours. 

Let us go to our room, my love. 

His words passed into your mind. You nodded. 

He stopped the water, helped you out of the shower, and dried you both. 

He guided your limbs into your sleepwear and covered himself with loose black pants. He looked almost...human...like this. 

You couldn’t help thinking that he was more human than most everyone out there. 

---

Your day started out fine. 

You woke from a wonderful dream—one Vessel had created. A peaceful afternoon beneath a willow tree, snuggled into his side, his fingers trailing along your forearm, down to your fingertips. 

He had tilted your face toward his, kissing your forehead. You had closed your eyes, and when you opened them, you were in bed, his lips still pressed to your skin. 

You got ready for work, Vessel watching as you moved through your room to the bathroom and back. He enjoyed observing you. The personal rituals you did for different occasions, different times of day. Perhaps the one he enjoyed the most was when you asked for his opinion when your ensemble was complete. 

He’d stand from his perch on the foot of your bed and step toward you as if in a trance. 

“You are breathtaking, my love.” He always spoke it. He wanted you to hear the power in the words—the power you held over him. 

You left, and Vessel would gather with the others. You’d ask him about his day, but admittedly, you were still confused about everything they could do—everything they were charged with doing. 

Maybe that was where is started.

You didn't understand. Could never understand.

And a chasm opened.

You were so fucking stupid.

You deserved to feel like this.

Insignificant.

Unneeded.

Unwanted.

Everyone was better off without you.

He’d be happier without you. 

All these fucking noises.

Why was everything so goddamn loud.

Dogs barking. Cars honking. That fucking clock that wouldn’t shut the fuck up! 

It all made you so angry. Why were you so angry? 

You had to make it stop. 

That’s how you ended up in the shower. At least there you could control the noise. You could feel it mark you. Let the heat punish you. 

A hand on your back pulled you back to reality. 

Let me see you, darling. 

You didn’t move, wished you didn’t need to breathe.  

He didn’t deserve this. He needed someone as extraordinary as him, someone who could understand. You could barely wrap your mind around how vast he was; he was everything, and you were—

“You are my heart.” 

A sob escaped. You had forgotten. Too consumed in your own thoughts that you forgot to keep them from him, to stop projecting them. 

He whispered your name, and all you heard was his heartbreak. 

You refused to look at him, covering your mouth to keep your cries back. 

“Please,” he urged. “Please believe me. You are the most precious to me. Do not think of yourself with such loathing.” 

His hand rested on your side, a silent plea to face him. When you didn’t, he forced you to. He never did that—used his strength against you—but this was an exception. 

“I am the one who does not deserve you. My existence is burdensome to you...but I am too selfish. I cannot lose you. I will not leave you willingly. I...I will stay by your side...until you demand otherwise.” 

It pained him to imagine it. He was so bad at hiding his emotions. And yet, it was what you needed. That break in his voice parted your darkness. The thought of him ever not being here scared you.

“I don’t—” You hiccupped. “I don’t want you to leave.” 

“Darling,” he breathed, sympathy and relief in that one word. “Come here.” 

You wrapped your arms around his waist while his settled over your shoulders. 

“My place is by your side,” he said. “Thank you for allowing me here.” 

Squeezing, you nuzzled your face into his neck. The edges of his mask-like features settled you into reality. He was here and so were you, and you were together. 

You sniffled; throat too thick to speak. 

I love you. 

His mouth pressed into your crown. 

You are the one I cherish most. 

At the end of your exhale, relaxation enveloped you—a heaviness only he could instill. 

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t need to. You just needed this day to be over. 

Sleep, my beloved. And awake anew. 

--- 

You didn’t dream that night, and you were grateful. It was the kind of emptiness you needed. 

When you opened your eyes, you were facing Vessel. Your fingers were touching, bodies apart but connected, always. 

Sometimes it was difficult to tell if he was awake. Even facing one another, the spaces where his eyes should be neither opened nor closed. His breathing was what gave him away. But not this morning. Today, it was the way his pinky finger wrapped around yours. 

Dearest one. 

It moved through your mind like a gentle breeze, and it sounded like “good morning.” 

He seemed to move before you did, anticipating you shifting closer, so his arm wrapped around you and his hand caressed the back of your head. 

You are rested? 

You hummed. He always asked when you both knew he didn’t need to. His insecurities needed the reassurance that he had helped you.

Yes. Thank you. 

You punctuated it by gliding your lips along his throat and placing a kiss above his Adam’s apple. 

The purr that erupted pulled the corner of your mouth up. He was always responsive in the mornings, less guarded before the walls of your bubble faded. 

What are you feeling? 

Not “how,” but “what.”  

Inhaling, you took stock of yourself. You recalled your pain from yesterday, but that already felt so long ago. Like your mind was trying to protect itself after what it put you through.

All you really felt was him. 

Safe. 

His head tilted downward so your foreheads touched. 

That pleases me. 

You rubbed your nose with his. Content to simply feel him. 

The others and I have decided I shall remain with you today. 

It had taken you a while to get used to the connection him and the rest shared. Honestly, you were a bit jealous. After all, how convenient it was to cancel plans just by thinking about it. He probably did it in the seconds before you woke up. 

So, what should we do? 

Anything that will make you happy. 

That sincerity always made you pause and scrutinize him. How could anyone truly mean that? 

Yet somehow, he did. Every time. 

And if I said this? 

You traced curves and swirls onto his back, reveling in the strength you felt within. Sometimes you swore his power was tangible. 

“Then I shall continue to warm your bed.” 

Your flush was instantaneous, and you knew he could feel it against his neck. But before you could stutter a reply, your stomach growled. 

“Perhaps breakfast first?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Definitely.” 

Taglist: @steph-speaks because one of my only points of pride is introducing you to ST.

Comment or message me if you wanna be tagged in future Vessel fics!

[shiftingwitholiver]

post from my dr/shifting sns

Thank you so much to everyone who came to our show! It's hard to believe that we've gone from Finn's dad's pub to a sold out stadium, and we are so grateful that out of all the bands in the world, we managed to get this opportunity. it's absoloutely mind blowing and i'm still getting used to everyone knowing who we are!

We certainly arent in kansas anymore haha

(also, shout out to whoever threw an unopened bag of skittles on stage. i fucking love you <3)

[smilesession]

Hey man I've been watching some Wicked and Dune recently, what kind of movies do you like?

Nice I like The Heart of the World, Basket Case, Threads, Altered States, Der Himmel über Berlin, Das Weisse Band, Сталкер, Psychedelic Glue-Sniffin' Hillbillies, Julien Donkey-Boy, Badlands, The Killing of a Sacred Deer, Guyana Tragedy: the Story of Jim Jones, Streets of Fire, Bicycle Thieves, Koyaanisqatsi, Possession, McCabe & Mrs. Miller, The Saddest Music in the World, Fehérlófia, Gothic, The Dark Backward, No No Nooky T.V., Tetsuo the Iron Man, Janet Planet, Dead Man, Septien, They Eat Scum, Possibly in Michigan, Face Like a Frog, Multiple Maniacs, Slacker, Caché, Melancholia, Down by Law, Black Christmas, The Florida Project, The Deer Hunter, Soylent Green, Bar-B-Que Movie, Sweetie, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, Paris Texas, Night on Earth, mother!, Brain Damage, Иди и смотри, Asteroid City, Barnyard, Shredder Orpheus, Reality 86'd, Carnival of Souls, Tales from the Quadead Zone, Old, We're All Going to the World's Fair, Scorpio Rising, Gummo, Waiting for Guffman, Grey Gardens, American Movie, The Devil and Daniel Johnston, The Maestro: King of the Cowboy Artists, Trash Humpers, Turtle Dreams, Perfect Lives, Begotten, À ma sœur!, The Beaver Trilogy, Stranger than Paradise, The Holy Mountain, The Eyes of My Mother, I'm Thinking of Ending Things, Kinds of Kindness, The Piano, The Lighthouse, House, Frailty, Hated, Phantom of the Paradise, Cry-Baby, Popeye, Jeanne Dielman 23 quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles, Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, Cruel Story of Youth, Hiroshima mon Amour, Last Year at Marienbad, Memorias del subdesarrollo, Easy Rider, Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans, Pink Flamingos, Κυνόδοντας, Emmet Otter's Jug-Band Christmas, Me and You and Everyone We Know, Hands on a Hard Body, PlayTime, Female Trouble, The Lovely Bones, My Dinner with Andre, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, π, Scanners,

[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!!!

Hits Different lyrics I washed my hands of us at the club

You made a mess of me

I pictured you with other girls in love

Then threw up on the street

Like waiting for a bus that never shows

You just start walkin' on

They say that if it's right, you know

Each bar plays our song

Nothing has ever felt so wrong

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost

Rip the band-aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw

Freedom felt like summer then on the coast

Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

And I never don't cry (And I never don't cry) at the bar

Yeah, my sadness is contagious (My sadness is contagious)

I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car

I stopped receiving invitations

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway

Is that your key in the door?

Is it okay? Is it you?

Or have they come to take me away?

To take me away

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different (It hits different)

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (It hits different)

It hits different 'cause it's you

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

'Cause it's you

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (Yeah)

It hits different 'cause it's you

🫶🫶🫶

Lavender Haze lyrics

Meet me at midnight

Ooh ooh ooh whoa

Staring at the ceiling with you

Oh, you don't ever say too much

And you don't really read into

My melancholia

I've been under scrutiny (Yeah, oh yeah)

You handle it beautifully (Yeah, oh yeah)

All this shit is new to me (Yeah, oh yeah)

I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal

The 1950s' shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

Ooh ooh ooh whoa

All they keep asking me

(All they keep asking me)

Is if I'm gonna be your bride

The only kinda girl they see

(Only kinda girl they see)

Is a one-night or a wife

I find it dizzying (Yeah, oh yeah)

They're bringing up my history (Yeah, oh yeah)

But you weren't even listening (Yeah, oh yeah)

I feel the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal

The 1950s' shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

That lavender haze

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

(Get it off my desk)

Talk your talk and go viral

I just need this love spiral

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

I feel (I feel) the lavender haze creeping up on me

Surreal

I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say

No deal (No deal)

The 1950s' shit they want from me

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

Ooh ooh ooh whoa

Get it off your chest

Get it off my desk

That lavender haze

I just wanna stay

I just wanna stay in that lavender haze

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

Put in the tags your interpretations or propaganda for a specific song! Tags will be used to decide what songs may be saved if there are extra slots in the next round!

[padfootscoldleathers]

i'll leave (a light on) ch.5

ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4, ch.5

"Please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, pleeeease, Mary! Please! Come on!"

Marlene's on her knees on the stage floor at soundcheck. The band has just finished, but Mary hasn't gone on yet and Marls is now clutching her legs begging, begging, BEGGING to hear the song she and Sirius are going to perform tomorrow night.

"I already told you – you'll hear it on stage tomorrow night."

Marlene's body falls along Mary's legs which almost makes her fall over. "But that's so far away." She pouts up at her and has her hands on Mary's ankles now. Well, one ankle and a hunk of metal, but who really cares.

Mary smooths Marlene's hair over her head. "You'll survive."

"But what if I die? This is grand tier homophobia." She groans on her way down Mary’s legs to sprawl out on the stage floor.

"Okay," she whispers. "Hey, Cas! Littering ain't cool. Come get your kid– ACK!" Mary lands with a thump on the floor and glares death at a cackling Marlene who's squirming like a crab flipped on its back. When Mary moves to get to her feet Marls immediately lets loose a string of curses as she scrambles off the stage. She jumps off the side stage and scrapes her elbow.

"So aggressive. Save it for sex."

"I know where you sleep, McKinnon.”

"Good. It's a no-clothes zone, by the way." She shrugs, walking backwards and throws a piece of gum in her mouth. "Just a reminder." She stalks off backstage to Dorcas and Peter with a pop of her bubblegum.

When Mary turns to look out at the stands from the center stage she senses Sirius coming up behind her, even though she can't hear his footsteps. She knows why.

"What are you doing? I can see you in my side mirrors, stop creeping up on me."

Sirius walks up until they're side by side and squints incredulously at her. His eyebrows are as high as they can go and his eyelids are straining to stay close enough to call it a squint. "Your side mirrors?"

"I'm bilingual, okay? I forget words sometimes. You know what I mean. The corner of my eye. Stop squinting at me like that. You look like a newborn.

"One, rude. Two, your peripheral vision?"

"Tomato, tomato; they're synonyms in this context."

"Peripheral does not equate to a side mirror?"

"The way I see it, as long as you understand what I'm saying—it's a win. I have no respect for grammar."

"We'll circle back to this."

"No, we won't."

"It's because I'm a goldfish, isn't it?"

Mary swings her arm around his shoulder and he wraps his arm around her. "Yeah, your memory ain't all that hot, dushi. We still love you."

"Yeah, whatever. I love you too."

They stand there for a long time staring at the empty stadium. So this is the big leagues, she thinks. There was something about all this empty space and the way it amplified her insignificance; it was refreshing.

The rain made a mirror of the stage floor and showed her someone she hadn't seen in so long, but still recognised. The version of herself that was brave.

Mary could tell it was reaching for her. The vines were slowly winding their way up her legs, soon her torso, then her mind. It was undeniable in the way it lingers; the mourning to be someone you love. Again or for the very first time. It's a vague emotion until it's not and she could feel it. Her melancholia is growing, it never dies. 

"Mavis."

"Yeah. Sorry." She pulled her eyes from the stage all across the stands and then to Sirius. All her excitement seeps from her pores and her breath comes out shaky with all of her nerves. And with it, a real smile, something that hadn't felt like it in so long.

"This is going to be the time of my life." Sirius matches her with all the enthusiasm he has left, which is, quite frankly, running on E, but he'll always have a smile for her.

“Scared?”

“Oh, terrified. In a good way. I feel like this marks the beginning of what’s going to be the happiest memories of my life.”

"Well, in that case, may it never end. July 25th, a day to remember." Sirius hands her a mic and turns to signal their audio guy.

The opening chords start playing and the tambourine might just be it. The beginning of something; something brave.

★

The car ride to lunch is an actual disaster. They end up stopping at a Krispy Kreme for donuts because it's taking so long to decide where to go. Mister Kingsley Shacklebolt in particular has, frankly, had it from here to hell with them. Marlene and Sirius are talking over each other and can’t even agree between Mexican and Thai. It all stops though, when Kingsley comes to a hard brake and sends the two of them crashing forward into the seats in front of them.

"We know you can drive better than this." Marlene says, rubbing her cheek.

"Should learn to strap in outside of the bedroom." He takes the keys out of the ignition then jumps out and goes around the front to the other side to open the door for Minnie. Then the door in the middle for Dorcas, Mary and Peter and shut it leaving Sirius and Marlene in the backseat with nothing but a box of Krispy Kreme with a lonely donut.

"Did he just…?"

"This is a thousand percent on brand for him, Sirius, don't be surprised."

She holds the door open for him as he shimmies out of the van with a donut and an empty box, before Marlene grabs and crushes it.

"Really?"

She shrugs and throws it in some random trashcan on the sidewalk. "What is this place anyway?"

"I couldn't care less as long as they have something sizzling on a plate."

"I just hope it's not Indian again."

"Why are you such a hater? Why do you have the palette of a baby, an allergy to anything exercise and the immune system of a sickly Victorian child? And yet have the audacity to look like a jock?"

Sirius opens the door and holds it open with his back to face Marlene. "Survival of the fittest, Sirius. Girls don't really care if you're a picky eater when you're this hot."

"Survival of the fittest?"

She puts a condescending hand on his shoulder, looks him up and down, shakes her head then sighs out a ‘you’re hopeless.’

Sirius pulls his head back in offense then starts fake coughing all over her when she walks past him. Marlene's skeleton and all vital organs abandon her as her fleshbag body runs through the restaurant with Sirius hot on her heels.

"Don't! I actually do have an immune system worse than a preemie NICU baby!"

Minnie solidifies out of thin air and grabs them both by the ears before a worker comes to kick them out.

"Sit."

Marls and Sirius drop into the booth next to each other rigid as a stoner next to a drug dog. Seriousness all but nonexistent by half a strawberry glazed donut dangling desperately from his mouth.

"Sirius, what are you guys doing?" Peter asks with a high eyebrow.

"Wuht?" He bites into the donut and catches the rest of it before it makes a sticky pink mess all over his jeans.

"Can't you two read a sign?"

That's when Marlene and Sirius turn over their shoulders – and butt each other's head on the way there – to look at the coloured signs basically lining the door frame. Eyes specifically snagging on a sign with a dog silhouette with a bright red block sign over it.

Sirius slowly turns his head back to Peter. Then he sees Minnie with a hard smile trying not to laugh. "Don't be racist." That's when the Italian waiter decides to show up at their table with the heaviest accent ever to ask if they have a problem. Peter and Mary squint at Dorcas utterly confused and she's supposed to translate for her two baby idiots.

"He means dogs are also a race." They blink at each other understanding but still gobsmacked at how stupid it sounds.

"Your sign is racist." Marls tells the waiter as he asks for their order. Sirius hisses and jumps to cover her mouth while they all stare between Marls n Marco wide-eyed. All except Dorcas of course. Who has had to live with this for years.

"Pardon?"

Cue heaven sent Dorcas Meadowes to the rescue. She and Minnie distract and order. Almost everyone moves around and under the booth to get to who they want to sit next to. Sirius ends up next to Mary which he later realises will be a big mistake because she asks if he wants to see a magic trick. Of course, he says yes. What else is there to say? It's Mary.

She pulls out a water bottle from her purse and pours it into an empty glass on the table. Then she takes her glass and pours the water into his. When she's done she moves her hand around the cup like it's going to make magic happen. Next thing he knows – he's drenched. Water splashed all over his face and soaked in the front of his shirt.

"Refreshing."

"That's going on the band's main insta account." Peter snickers already typing up a caption for their insta story.

Sirius' eyebrows shoot all the way up and he strains to keep his eyes near closed and blinks to make that funny face of 'what.’ 

"Excuse me?"

Then Sirius' phone pings and he's tagged in the story of his own personal Percy Jackson showdown that he embarassingly, predictably, lost. With '#stayhydrated' after his username.

Sirius, then and there, pulls up one of his many many pictures of Pete sleeping in various acrobat level positions. Specifically that time he fell asleep in what was basically a king cobra pose, his foot caught in the cushions of the couch in the studio. He retaliates as is his birthright. In his following of this existential purpose, naturally, he posts it. Drool and all. And he tags Petey. Obviously.

Peter's lips purse like a squished sponge but he's already come to terms with the fact that there are tons of pictures of him like this on the internet and this won't be the last.

"Well played."

"Thank you."

Lots of jokes, munch, munch, yum, yum, if you don't know how to make Italian food it's borderline tasteless, blah, blah, blah. They had fun.

They're leaving when Sirius, still munching on garlic bread, asks if they weren't supposed to catch a movie.

"Yeah, but are you grandmas still up for that?"

Marlene rubs her stomach like there's something in there. "I'm still nursing a food baby but if you want to, Minnie, we'll go with you."

"Well the movie's at 8. So," she checks her pocket watch, "an hour and a half. What do you want to do in the meantime?" Minnie fiddles with the keys through her thin fingers. Mary snatches them and dashes to the car.

"Thank you." She points the keys at Peter while holding the passenger door open for Minnie."Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Petey's eyes light up and he runs to grab the keys from Mary and slide over the hood. "I'm driving!"

Mary looks at the pregnant food fetus carriers with her eyebrow cocked like a shotgun. "Get in or get an uber." Car doors slam with just Minnie, Peter and Mary in the jeep. Sirius trails after the girls to the car like he has nowhere to be. That's until the car starts reversing to drive off. Then it does. Slowly. Tauntingly. The back window over the tailgate opens and the jeep starts to pick up a bit.

Dorcas and Marlene sprint and launch themselves over the backdoor. Sirius almost doesn’t make it past the corner but does end up grabbing the support at the back end and swinging himself inside. He drops his head on the bed of the wrangler with a thump. Marlene's monologuing, on insta live with Mary's phone. "That, my dear friends, is what 5 years of jockdom looks like. Former athlete in the flesh. Emphasis on ‘former.’" Sirius glares at her through panted breaths, grabs the phone and flips the camera.

"You act as if I didn't hear you wheezing like you were choking up a hairball after Dori had to throw you into the jeep." He flips the camera back to his face with a low blush, "That's what 4 years of vicarious jockdom looks like." Mary leans over the backseat and scrambles his hair as a distraction to grab the phone from his clawing fingers. "Where are we going anyway?" He leans his head against the tailgate.

"The arcade."

"What about the movie?"

"Same place." Mary and Pete say in unison. It happens a lot. Childhood best friends and all that. They're also highschool friends with Alice and… that roommate they live with, who Sirius has never seen somehow.

"Pardon?"

"You little freshwater fish. Welcome to America. The arcades are in the cinema." Peter cranks up the radio and it's ‘paradise calling’ by Birdy.

They get there maybe half an hour later so they definitely killed some time. Between getting tickets and trying to figure out the arcade, then realising that you can’t just use money. You need a buy a card for the arcade and put money on it. When did everything get so complicated? They play, stand in line for popcorn and then drag Sirius and Marlene away from Dance Dance Evolution so they don't all miss the movie. There was never a dull moment.

The commercials finish rolling and then the movie kicks on. It feels really creepy at first with just a couple girls playing with dolls.

The movie ends and the lot of them are walking hand in hand out the cinema. Tears streaming down their faces and red noses. Dorcas is the first one to say anything since the credits rolled. She tilts her head almost totally confused like she almost can’t remember what happened only that she’s crying.

"What the fuck?"

i feel like the movie was pretty obvious and i know they would all cry. marlene specifically. last update for the next three weeks cause exams and my life is not my own, alas BUT next chapter IS the wolfstar finally meet so yay

@moonyswarmsweaters @sspadfoot @thingthatoncewastruee @probs-reading @cheekyboybeth

@starving-marauder-lover @yourlocalbadgerscales @taleofapart-timepoet @mirrs-ball @tea-blankets-andstars

@where-is-vivian @amberlink @wastingawayinmyroom @ashes-to-ashesxx @percabeth-trash

@equippedtolove @moon-girl88 @jamespotterbbg @drunktayloratthevmas @labyrinthhofmymind

@s0ggyguts @nyx-taylors-version @will-vs-the-homo-sapiens-adgenda @siriusly-insane

[tomsmusictaste]

Doll Skin // Melancholia

[loneberry]

FIRST TOTAL SOLAR ECLIPSE

Images from my first total solar eclipse, depicting the outer corona, inner corona, prominent prominences, diamond ring, and the partial phase. Photos taken by Dan.

A black sun. Never had I seen a black sun, that insignia of melancholia that will forever remind me of Kristeva, which will forever remind me of M’s suicide—it was one of the few books M had with her at the very end, the book that her mother believed was the key to why she did it.

Black sun. On the day of—or day after—M’s death anniversary. I had been weeping for days when I found myself beneath that darkening sky.

*

What’s the difference between a partial and a total eclipse? I vaguely remember going onto the playground with some glasses as a child, but I don’t remember what I saw in the sky. What’s the big deal? The sky goes dark for a few minutes. It can’t be much different from the onset of night.

Wrong.

The rhapsodic scientists I listened to on various podcasts convinced me that there is really no comparison between a partial and total eclipse. I tried to hatch a last-minute plan to get myself in the path of totality. In the days leading up to the eclipse, I would be at the French King Bridge for M’s death anniversary. The only person I knew in Western MA, besides M’s mother, was my poet friend Ethan. So I asked him if he had a plan to see the eclipse.

I did not know, when I texted him out of the blue, that his parents lived in the path of totality in northern Vermont, that his father Dan was an astronomer (communist astronomer!) and eclipse chaser (this was his 14th eclipse), that Dan had even organized the local viewing event and wrote a book on the history of astronomy. At Ethan’s parents’ house there were literally photographs of eclipses mixed in with the family photos (see below). His father had even built a little observatory on his land. I had, in the most haphazard fashion, found the perfect guide to my first total solar eclipse.

Dan brought his equipment to the eclipse viewing: cameras, filters, binoculars, and a $4000 hydrogen alpha telescope that we used before the eclipse to look at the sun’s prominences and a sunspot on the surface. He enthusiastically answered all my questions. How had the Babylonians worked it out so long ago? Why does the wind pick up when the eclipse begins? Why is the sun’s corona so much hotter than the sun’s surface? (It’s still a mystery to the scientists…) Why why why. (People often tell me that I always ask a lot of questions—almost like an eternally curious child.)

The eclipse. It is not like the dimming of sunset, with its orange hues and plunge into the horizon, the low angle. It is a light unlike any light I have seen before, a strange dream-like atmosphere, a gray yet shimmering unreality, the air suddenly cold, the birds in a confused tumult. The uneven temperature of the atmosphere makes the wind pick up as the moon slowly covers the sun. Though the light was not the gold of sunset, you could see a band of orange on every horizon like a 360 degree sunset, an eerie gloaming that electrifies your skin.

A silence descended on the field as the moment of totality approached. Then, audible gasps—we couldn’t believe what we were seeing. I think the first thing I said was, “Holy. Shit.” Nothing prepared me for the numinous beauty of the sun’s corona, those elegant wisps of bright white light haloing the black sun. I think it’s probably the closest one can come to seeing God while alive on this earth. I cried during totality while observing the patterns in the corona through binoculars. A beautiful pink arch of plasma (a prominence) was visible toward the bottom of the sun. Dan pointed out Venus in the sky.

In the center of that black hole there is an abyssal silence

I don’t know how to describe it. Celestial indifference to human endeavor, human emotion. A kind of coldness in that heat, the heat of the corona, beyond even the fires of Hell. Then I can hear the angelic squall of the corona ringing over the landscape. It is a sound full of grace even as it cannot be called happy.

I can see why the ancients might interpret an eclipse as an augur of something deeply ominous, perhaps apocalyptic. The experience is, at once, sublime, ecstatic, and deeply unnerving—all your perceptual faculties are telling you that something is wrong. The ongoingness of the world and its rules cannot be taken for granted, for the sun went black, not in my dream, but in the afternoon sky.

And just as soon as it began, it was over. We had almost 3 and half minutes of totality. I was surprised by how quickly the sky brightened, how much light we get when the sun is almost completely covered.

One day the moon will float away. There won’t be any more total solar eclipses. Be grateful you were alive during this slice of cosmic time.

This is my favorite scene in all of cinema, from Béla Tarr's Werckmeister Harmonies. Watch drunkards reenact an eclipse in a drab Hungarian bar...

Ethan and communist astronomer dad!

I even got eclipse-branded maple syrup (peak Vermont)

[nabs-draws]

What happens when two awesome musician meet each other and form a duo together? Well, something magical happens. And that's how I would describe the Waeve.

I must admit that it was one of those bands that needed to grow on me a bit. The song that sold my soul to this band was "Can I call you". A song that starts soft, but burst into a ball of energy by the end of the song. A song that I couldn't get enough of and I highly anticipated their second album, the moment I heared of it's release. For me , it's comfort music. And maybe it's cheesy to say , maybe I'm reading their music wrong but I feel like you can feel their emotions through every song. Their love, their anxiety, their anger, the warmth that combines all of this human emotions. A certain melody of melancholia in a way. It reminds me of a sentence a former friend used to say about my work "No matter what you draw, it all is drenched in a deep sense of melancholia. No matter how hard you try to get rid of it!"

And this very sentence (and my love for the Waeve) lead me into drawing them. I wanted to capture the moment, before the song starts. The moment before Rose hits the key, before Graham plays the saxophone. The miliseconds of getting ready for the song. A certain hesitance. Much like the hesitance I felt when drawing that image. The colors were also an intentional choice of my own colorpalette, which I used a lot this year. Kind of a homerun, if you will. And I probably could say a lot more about this artwork but I think I'm writing to much again. Maybe I should just let you observe the artwork for a while before overexplaining myself here, lol.

If you haven't heared of The Waeve yet, I highly recommend of checking them out. It might not be everyones cup of tea, but I promise that if it is, you probably won't regret it.

[prongsfootproject]

Title: ante meridiem.

Author: diamondmeadows

Artist: sorenphelps

Wordcount: 11021 (2/4chapters)

Rating: E

Warnings: smut, mentions of character’s death 

Tags: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, Reunions, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Art, Art Blocks, Falling In Love, References to the Beatles, Song Lyrics, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of a Minor Character’s Death

Summary:

The post-tour melancholia comes in stages for Sirius Black.

One. Dig himself a hole and hide there for days.

Two. Venture out, distract.

Three. Reconnect with friends.

Four. Crawl back to bandmates.

Five. Compose. Compose. Compose.

Never once has this melancholia skipped a step.

Never once has Sirius Black allowed it to.

It's Saturday, eight p.m.; almost a month has passed since their tour ended. It's three weeks into the sweltering summer temperatures, and instead of hanging out with his old friends Sirius hasn't seen in months, some of them in years, he is sprawled on his sofa, under the stream of cool air from the air conditioner, cradling another whiskey glass in his hands.

-or-

An art block can be a bitch and sometimes resolving it requires radical solutions. Like reuniting with your long lost best friend. Falling in love. Or perhaps just remembering old love that has never expired in the first place.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59742982