#title from Joanna Newsom

[dracolizardlars]

An album being titled after a track on it, especially the first track, genuinely increases how often I listen to that album because. For example. If I am scrolling down my list of albums trying to pick one and I read the title "Obsessive", the song Obsessive is immediately stuck in my head, and I fucking LOVE that song so it makes me want to listen to it. I've scrolled past, then scrolled back up to that album multiple times! (It's by the band Sidi Bou Said by the way, love it.) I'm sure it happens to me with other albums named after a title track but I can't think of it off the top of my head right now. It's funny cus I am absolutely a proponent of creative album titles, and a lot of artists I listen to NEVER name their albums after a track, but I have to admit that the "title track" style is a psychological trick that gets me to listen to it more!

[devilish-parrot]

tally halls music recs from 2006

sourced from the trivia section under each members page on hiddeninthesand.com

albums in pink arent on the playlist because i couldnt find it

Joe Hawley;

Magical Mystery Tour by The Beatles,

Queen's Greatest Hits, Volume 1 & 2,

Switched-On Bach by Wendy Carlos,

Midnite Vultures by Beck,

Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff

His reasons for choosing these was "Just trust me."

Zubin Seghi;

Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band by The Beatles,

Illinois by Sufjan Stevens,

Funeral by Arcade Fire,

Twin Cinema by the New Pornographers,

Weezer's self-titled debut album

Rob Cantor;

Weezer's self-titled debut album,

XO by Elliott Smith,

The Milk-Eyed Mender by Joanna Newsom, 

OK Go's self-titled album,

Odessey and Oracle by the Zombies

His reason for choosing these albums was "They're five wonderful albums."

Ross Federman;

OK Computer by Radiohead,

Illinois by Sufjan Stevens,

Abbey Road by The Beatles,

Before These Crowded Streets by Dave Matthews Band,

Ben Folds Five's self-titled album

Andrew Horowitz;

Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys,

The Singable Songs Collection by Raffi, Shostakovich's Symphonies Nos. 5 & 9,

Pink Moon by Nick Drake,

Girls Can Tell by Spoon

[library-seraph]

Griddlehark Playlist

What the title says, primarily about their relationship although there are a few individualized songs

(very heavily Harrow the ninth biased, which is the most romantic book despite or because of one member of the couple not being to able to remember the other)

Liner notes below cut, also, this is a perpetual WIP like all my playlists

Lioness- The World Is a Beautiful Place and I am Not Afraid to Die

When I was with you we were an estuary I don’t know if I come from the river or the sea All I know is you are both my opposite and my reflection

We were two bodies Running out of room in this world We carved space in ourselves for the other to borrow, for the other to burrow I wake up sometimes with ghost traces of your lips on my bones

Cosmia- Joanna Newsom (Joanna Newsom isn't on Spotify, track these down elsewhere)

Water were your limbs And the fire was your hair — And then the moonlight caught your eye And you rose through the air Well, if you've seen true light Then this is my prayer:

Will you call me, when you get there?

And I miss your precious heart;

NFWMB- Hozier

Give your heart and soul to charity 'Cause the rest of you The best of you Honey, belongs to me

If I was born as a blackthorn tree I'd wanna be felled by you Held by you Fuel the pyre of your enemies

Daughter of God- Phemiec

Doubt’s an elastic that snaps where you grasp it With idle hands clasped on your wrist just as sharp as A kiss on the scar where you carved out her name Or a line that is straight and confined to your fate You’re resigned to be damned by your hand in her hand She will hold you as soft as a feather on water You float on her fingers, she pulls you apart It’s not hard, it won't hurt, it’s not right for a daughter of god

There is a Light that Never Goes Out- Dum Dum Girls (cover)

And in the darkened underpass I thought oh, God, my chance has come at last But then a strange fear gripped me and I just couldn't ask

And if a double-decker bus Crashes into us To die by your side Is such a heavenly way to die

Take Me to Church- Hozier (I'm allowed two screamingly obvious songs)

We were born sick, you heard them say it My church offers no absolutes She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom" The only heaven I'll be sent to Is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well

Never Let Me Go- Florence+ the Machine (This is the other one)

And the arms of the ocean are carrying me And all this devotion was rushing out of me And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me But the arms of the ocean delivered me

The Only Thing- Sufjan Stevens

Do I care if I survive this? Bury the dead where they’re found In a veil of great surprises, I wonder did you love me at all?

Should I tear my eyes out now? Everything I see returns to you, somehow Should I tear my heart out now? Everything I feel returns to you, somehow I want to save you from your sorrow

Los Ageless (Piano Version)- St. Vincent

How can anybody have you? How can anybody have you and lose you? How can anybody have you and lose you And not lose their mind too?

I guess that's just me, honey, I guess that's how I'm built I try to tell you I love you but it comes out all sick I guess that's just me, honey, I guess that's how I'm built I try to write you a love song but it comes out a lament

Running up that Hill- Kate Bush (Okay, three)

You don't wanna hurt me But see how deep the bullet lies Unaware, I'm tearin' you asunder Oh, there is thunder in our hearts Is there so much hate for the ones we love? Oh, tell me, we both matter, don't we?

New Ceremony- Dry the River

I waited by your bedside And couldn't close my eyes all night I named you like a prayer It's anybody's guess how The angel of doubt came down And crept into your bed But after we danced to the shipping forecast The words escaped your mouth: "I know it's gotta stop, love, but I don't know how."

Now the stairs forget your shoes And the gate don't creak for want of you But the jury's out on me We're wise beyond our years But we're good at bad ideas, my love Or so it seems to be

OH ANNA- The Microphones

Oh Anna, take me in with water arms surround me, blow your breezy charms around me Oh Anna, you're a house of many rooms and all the secrets deep entombed within you I know a few

Oh Anna, take me to your eerie heights above, paint white letters "I you love" Oh Anna, drop me off a cliff I fall

Weights and Measures- Dry the River

I was prepared to love you And never expect anything of you There's no patron saint of silent restraint Baby there ain't no sword in our lake Just a funeral wake

Just because we're beasts of blame by nature Doesn't mean that you should carry it again It's a question of needs and not rosary beads in the end

No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross- Sufjan Stevens

Drag me to hell in the valley of The Dalles Like my mother Give wings to a stone It’s only the shadow of a cross

I slept on my back in the shade of the meadowlark Like a champion Get drunk to get laid I take one more hit when you depart

The Bomb- Florence+ the Machine (This is "Kiriona Gaia has been abandoned by everybody except two of the worst people in canon and everything except being a warcrimes corpse puppet and she's TOTALLY FINE with that, honest")

But if I was free to love you You wouldn't want me, would you? Unavailability is the only thing that turns you on Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong

I've blown apart my life for you And bodies hit the floor for you And break me, shake me, devastate me Come here, baby, tell me that I'm wrong I don't love you, I just love the bomb (Oh, oh, oh) I let it burn, but it just had to be done (Oh, oh, oh) And I'm in ruins, but is it what I wanted all along? Sometimes, you get the girl, sometimes, you get the song

Francesca- Hozier

Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darlin', I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm since I was born How could I fear any hurricane?

If someone asked me at the end I'd tell them, "Put me back in it" (Da-ah, darlin') I would do it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah) If I could hold you for a minute (Da-ah, darlin') I'd go through it again (Ah-ah, ah-ah)

In a Sweater Poorly Knit- mewithoutYou

You're a door-without-a-key, a field-without-a-fence You made a holy fool of me and I've thanked you ever since And if she comes circling back we'll end where we'd begun Like two pennies on the train track the train crushed into one But if I'm a crown without a king, if I'm a broken open seed If I come without a thing, then I come with all I need No boat out in the blue, no place to rest your head The trap I set for you seems to have caught my leg instead

Kept Woman- Fleet Foxes (Tbh this is probably the soundtrack to the ideal stigmata fisting/heart regrowing scene)

God above saw, ever in the mind Blue and white irises in a line Under your nameless shame I left you in frame, and you rose to be ossified As a Rose of the Oceanside

Can you be slow for a little while? Widow your soul for another mile? I'm just the same as when You saw me back then And we're bound to be reconciled We're bound to be reconciled

The Chain- Fleetwood Mac

And if you don't love me now You will never love me again I can still hear you sayin' You would never break the chain (Never break the chain) And if you don't love me now (You don't love me now) You will never love me again I can still hear you sayin' (Still hear you saying) You would never break the chain (Never break the chain)

Time as a Symptom- Joanna Newsom

So it would seem to be true: When cruel birth debases, we forget When cruel death debases We believe it erases all the rest That precedes

In the nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating Joy of life; The nullifying, defeating, negating, repeating Joy of life

[charmwasjess]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52948729/chapters/146936419#main

Holy shit, your chapter titles are some of my literal favorite lines from Joanna Newsom, Kate Nash, and Frightened Rabbit?? AND INQUISITOR AHSOKA??? (Also, a delightful portrayal of Leia, btw.) Oh, so tasty. <3 Thank you for sharing!!!

[catbells-and-summerlinens]

Tagged by my dearest ones @agaywithcoffee! (Lol, why did I just try to search for and tag "the coffee gay"??) and @harrylovesspaezle. 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Using only song titles from one band/artist, cleverly answer the questions and tag people:

Artist: Joanna Newsom (I am picking her before looking at the categories, I will probably regret this!)

Gender: "Only Skin"

How You Feel: "This Side of the Blue"

If you could go anywhere, where: "In California"

Fav mode of transportation: "Bridges and Balloons"

If my life were a TV show: "Good Intentions Paving Co."

Relationship status: "You Will Not Take My Heart Alive"

Your Fear: "The Things I Say"

Tagging @peanutbutterex, @eddiepeaches, @beautitudes, @ofmd-ann, @endevouring-to-surprise , @suffersinfandom and anyone else who feels like it! 💜

[devilsainz]

songs that are charlos-coded to me for no specific reasons, just vibes (okay maybe some reasons, however they are too vague and subjective)

fiona apple - the first taste (latino sound (aka latino mode?) hum... it just has a flirty vibe, also the second verse itself)

cocteau twins - those eyes, that mouth (this band is pretty much know for not having clear lyrics so yes, its pretty much in the title)

japanese breakfast - everybody wants to love you (such a fun little silly love song - also the title makes me think of charles: everybody loves him)

cat power - where is my love? (mention of horses throughtout the whole song, hello ferrari? romantic, established relationship vibes)

björk - venus as a boy (hmm... pretty straightforward: the lyrics 👀)

mitski - come into the water (at first i thought why it makes sense for me if it sounds so sad but i just put it in the pining category)

mazzy star - happy (another one kind of melancholic however i think it has a night vibe that make me think of night races and the smile verse definetely sold the song for me)

joanna newsom - peach plum pear (this is one that i actually dont know why it just feels right to me. it just has this specific vibe)

manu chao - me gustas tu (i met this one through a fanfic and never separated the song from them ever since)

deee-lite - groove is in the heart (i just think its a little fun song and can imagine them dancing silly to it)

[katelouisepowell]

To celebrate the glorious & highly anticipated return of Joanna Newsom I thought I’d reshare my little collection of illustrations based on her music 🕸🍒🕊🌺 She moves and inspires me like no other, I’d love to keep making pieces that use her lyrics as a base from where I can hone my drawing techniques and explore more symbolism and visual storytelling 🌟

so far: Sawdust & Diamonds, a little Only Skin moment, a flora & fauna montage for Ellie (titled Feast For Precious Hearts), a fond silly goose drawing loosely prompted by Go Long, and Cosmia 🐣

her new music is sounding phenomenal, I’m especially excited by The Air Again. her artistry continuously blows my mind 🌬️

[lovejustforaday]

Gay Pride Anthems (According to Me) - Tristan

Tristan - Patrick Wolf

Genres: Folktronica, Goth Rock, Art Pop

Okay, so this one is definitely gonna be stretching the definition of a "gay pride anthem" quite generously, but hear me out on this one.

There's an undeniable anthemic, queer anti-hero energy festering under the darker lyrics and theatrical mannerisms of Patrick Wolf's 2005 single "Tristan", and I'm gonna tell you all about it.

THE ARTIST

Patrick Wolf is an openly queer and largely subversive singer/songwriter originating from London, UK.

He's a millennial indie folk artist, so naturally he had his big heyday in the latter half of the 2000s, when artists such as Sufjan Stevens, Fleet Foxes, Joanna Newsom and the like were becoming big names in the indie music sphere. The Big Indie Folk Boom of the 2000s, might I call it, which indirectly lead to the subsequent (shudder) Star Bucks Folk or "Stomp Clap Hey" Boom of the early 2010s.

Patrick Wolf has described himself at different times in the past as bisexual, though in more recent interviews he has identified himself as a gay man. Patrick has also remarked in the past how his record labels have tried to pin him down, pushing him to embrace a more camp gay archetype and less of the soft, mildly androgynous energy and aesthetic he often cultivates.

I discovered Patrick's music fairly early on in my coming out years of high school and my freshman year of university. The song in question today was actually one of my first favourite songs from an explicitly queer indie artist, even before I discovered more contemporary artists like Perfume Genius if I am remembering correctly.

To this day, I've still only listened to Patrick's 2005 LP Wind In The Wires, an LP which I highly recommend as a somewhat forgotten classic of its era. The record marries theatrical, angsty poetics and macabre cabaret with beautiful, nocturnal folk chamber music and art pop eccentricities. There's also elements of indie rock in the mix.

It's the kind of record I imagine Oscar Wilde might've made if he was born at the end of 20th century and decided to become a musician (Take that with a metric ton of salt - I read like one or two Oscar Wilde poems in high school).

I'd also highly recommend "The Libertine" and the title track off of that record for a better picture of his unique artistic style. But today, we're gonna be talking about the GAYEST song on the record which is definitely "Tristan".

THE SONG AND WHY IT SLAPS

My name is Tristan...and I am alive.

ugh. uff. HAAHHH ✨

"Tristan" is the vampiric ballad of a man who is a miserable lone wolf and walking contradiction. It's also a complete and total fucking banger, the likes of which is so rarely achieved through such a bizarre approach to pop songwriting.

The track opens with these hollow, mildly grating acoustic guitar twinges, before it all comes together with an accordion riff, piano stabs, and electronic filtered drums and effects creating a very awkward, hiccup-y rhythm. I feel like "Tristan" is wading through swamp water and digging his feet out of sink holes as he pleads his story to whoever will listen.

Patrick snarls and grunts, performing as a sort of beastly creature, and yet an elegant gentleman with his romantic declarations during the chorus. The performance could've been much too goofy in the hands of a lesser talented vocalist, but Wolf pulls it off. Hell, he doesn't just pull it off - he knocks it out of the park.

The lyrics offer the perspective of someone who feels he is monstrous and at war with himself. lines like "I am the victim / but I'm the murderer" paint the picture of self-destruction and self-loathing. But despite his woes and general misery, he compiles his identity together in the chorus with the iconic affirmation that, ultimately, "[he is] Tristan, and [he is] alive". This song is just filled with awesome. It's original, it's dark, it's symbolic, and it's catchy as all hell, even though it probably shouldn't be for how oddly it's conceived. Lesser-known gems like this song are the ones that get me really excited to post my silly little reviews on this music blog that maybe four or five people read each time, because if I can even get just one more person to listen to it, then it will feel like a huge accomplishment on my end.

WHY IT'S GAY

I could just state the obvious that "It's by a gay man and it's about another man so it's gay", but I think we all can dig a little deeper with our queer analysis than that, can't we? Let me offer my interpretation. Have you ever noticed that like, a lot of gay men carry a significant burden of self-loathing? Or how many times have you felt as a gay man, or any type of queer person for that matter, that you were essentially a beast because of the way that society and especially religion has cast you into the role of the dangerous "other"?

Of course, feeling like a monster in the eyes of society in the way that the eponymous Tristan clearly does, will often lead down paths of self-destruction and self-harm. Indirect ways of trying to disengage or even disappear from a world that feels full of rejection for you as a person.

In the gay male community especially, I've seen this manifest a lot in the forms of substance abuse, as well as the phenomenon some psychologists and social scientists are referring to as "sex as self-injury". I have known of, and even met a few Tristans in my life time, and many of us have some degree of a Tristan personality inside of us to varying extents. In a different timeline, I could've even become a full-on Tristan myself, and I was certainly not terribly far from it during my worst years. it's very easy to interpret this song just as a cautionary tale, so why should I include this in a list of "gay PRIDE" anthems? Well, it's complicated.

Pride isn't always the way that mainstream media depicts it. It's not always bright pink feather boas and sunny days and big beautiful happy gay couples and radiant drag queens.

Sometimes pride is just having the ability to wake up the next morning and the will to press on. It's having the self-respect to fight for your autonomy to live as the person you truly are.

Tristan states it himself. He might be all of these things: troubled, a tragedy, a victim, metaphorically fucked, but he is also clearly not willing to give up. He's "working for joy on overtime", fighting for his happiness. He is Tristan, and he is alive, and that's just a little bit uplifting, isn't it? It is often the music that acknowledges the pain in this world, and tells you to press on despite everything, that has gotten me through my darkest hours. That includes, of course, having to navigate all of the bullshit homophobia online and in the real world.

And it's never that far off - I live in the statistically gayest province of one of the most LGBTQ-friendly countries in the world, and there was still a reported hate crime in my own city this year. Patrick Wolf himself was once the victim of a hate crime by bouncers at a concert, and experienced relentless bullying in his school years. "Tristan" is very likely informed by his lived experiences.

Don't get me wrong - when I'm feeling my oats and going to a gay club, I expect to be dancing to some loud and proud disco bangers. We need that kind of music in the community to empower us and give us that collective hope.

But there is definitely a much needed place as well for more complex, bittersweet, and even tragic gay anthems in the lives of gay men, and all queer people in general. We need anthems that tell our stories without any pretenses. We need to hear that our pain is real, just as much as we need to be told to keep going.

So thank you Patrick Wolf, for this unsung timeless classic. May Tristan, and all the Tristans in all of us one day heal from our scars.

[sovietunion]

Omg that post is talking about blog titles not url... I'm so silly. Anyway my title I think is brighter night which references the Son Lux's song Resurrection and my description is from Joanna Newsom's No Provenance....

[woodland-ghosts]

Okay, here it is!

3,545 words.

I hope it makes sense, tbh. I am used to writing more for broadcast and poetry than fiction, but immersing myself fully in the world of fiction writing is my goal for the year.

Some of it was rushed, some of it only went thru the editing process once bc I wanted to be done and get it posted (so there is some stuff that I still would’ve liked to flesh out, but) I still had fun! I love Victorian/Gothic literature and try to write in that style. Getting the chance to write about Unicorn: Warriors Eternal is an excellent opportunity to practice.

Next chapter will hopefully be short, better, more concise, more dialogue and action driven, and more Copernicus and Seng. Also the formatting didn’t cross over bc I posted this on mobile 😌🙃

Anyway, like I said, I hope it makes sense! 🥰

Title: Slipping the Glove from Your Hand

Pairings: Melinda/Edred, Emma/Edred

Summary: Melinda suddenly disappears into Emma, allowing Emma to fully take control over her body once more. Before Melinda disappears entirely, she allows Emma a single glimpse into a very troubling memory.

For, if you weren’t born at the right time, my dear,

just keep trying, and trying, and trying again.

As for the end, it is not what you fear,

you’re just slipping the glove from your hand-

Like this-

down,

down,

down,

down your wrist.

Down,

down,

down,

down the list of lives,

husbands and wives,

dozens of times

around, again, and then —

‘Marie at the Mill’ Joanna Newsom, 2023

Suddenly, violently, and with a terrible pounding in her chest, Emma awoke.

She had been lost, meandering in the shady arbor of her shared consciousness with Melinda, her spirit circling the catacombs of Melinda’s memories and experiences(that strange limbo where Time and Space ceased to abide by the rules of the physical realm and that had brought Emma to the edges of worlds she once found only in storybooks) when it happened.

Up until that moment, Melinda and her great, dark power had been mostly at the helm of their physical embodiment, weaving herself through Emma like the strings of a marionette. Though Emma was small and winsome in stature, Melinda wielded her like a weapon. Unable to comprehend even how, for weeks, Emma had watched Melinda conjure great and terrible strength through her own tiny hands. Melinda took her soaring high above the formidable skyline of Londontown, over the vast network of steam stacks and clock towers, even over the dirigibles that patrolled the air like the Scotland Yard.

Melinda used Emma: her body, her voice, her eyes. She used her so prolifically that Emma felt as though it were her own self wielding such incredible power.

Melinda also mostly ignored her. Emma could squeak, howl, stamp her feet still laced in their wedding boots, come to Melinda through the mirror or their reflection in a windowpane pleading with her, yet Melinda never let the girl gain purchase through any one of her attempts. Melinda was frustratingly good at suppressing Emma and banishing her to the realm of their subsconscious. But, she didn’t always win. Sometimes, Emma’s resolute spirit would blunder through and Melinda would be suddenly thrust into the back-seat, forced to watch as the girl directed all her feistiness and rage at Melinda’s elfen beloved, Edred.

It did not happen very often. It mostly didn’t happen at all - the problem of their shared existence was that each of the women engaged one another in a perpetual struggle for supremacy over Emma’s corporeal vessel. Their battles were unceasing, and the result was a strange chimera of their aptitudes, personalities and dispositions.

That is until a most inopportune moment, the moment Melinda began to lose herself and Emma was wrested from the ethereal depths of consciousness and memory and thrust to the surface.

“Where - where am I?” She pondered aloud. She was high above the earth somewhere on the outskirts of the city, heading north. From over the little wisps of clouds, she could see the edge of Hertfordshire and the gentle green country just beyond it.

Why are we leaving the city, all alone? she wondered. Not but a moment later, a ferocious wind sprung up from nowhere and sliced right through her, causing Emma to sputter and catapult downward through the rings of white. Oh, God forbid! Melinda’s power was waning!

A jolt of fear passed through her and she closed her eyes, turned herself inward, and called out to Melinda.

Melinda, where have you gone? Where’re Edred and Seng? And Copernicus?

I’m here. Came the swift, but feeble, reply. But you must help me.

How can I help you? Emma asked. What’s happened?!

Emma anxiously waited for Melinda’s response, but silence was her only return. Melinda’s power seemed to be dwindling further and Emma grew heavy in the spectral arms of the atmosphere.

She was falling. And quickly.

Melinda, please! We’re falling! I’m falling -

She plunged through the stratosphere in a wicked blur, her black hair trailing behind her like smoke. It was like the most hellacious carousel ride as bright gusts of wind and whirls of color were enclosed all around her. It would be just moments before she crashed to the earth in a bruised and broken heap.

Melinda! Please! It was her final plea before she prepared herself for the impact.

But then, all at once, she was stopped. The wind had died down and bent itself warmly around her and Emma let one eye open.

She was levitating just above the dirt, trickling along, the black tips of her feet dragging in the ground and leaving behind her a trail of jagged, muddy rivulets. She opened both eyes and gathered her thoughts as her surroundings came into view. All around her loomed a labyrinth of weathered granite and marble: imperious, moss-eaten mausoleums half-sunk into the soft earth which had been quietly gnawing away at the structures for centuries, and tombstones that jutted out of the earth at severe angles like the the crooked, rotting teeth of some terrible beast.

The air was damp and cloistering and the cemetery grounds were hemmed in by a grove of ancient yews, their trunks growing wide and thick out of the ground. The way the trees wove around each other reminded Emma of the fanciful gates of Kensington Gardens; the trunks themselves had borne natural portals wide enough for a person twice her size to enter.

I know this place. We’re at Highgate Cemetery. But, how did we end up here?

Emma felt a lump swelling in her throat. She swallowed hard.

Melinda, are you there?

Feeling the trepidation building within her, she allowed one foot to touch the ground.

“Melinda!” A furious cry rang out from behind her, accompanied by a coppery cacophony of whistles, clanks, and bangs.

Emma spun around and observed Melinda’s three companions trundling towards her, Seng and Edred clinging to Copernicus’s bronze thorax as they descended from the sky. They had just lumbered across the cemetery’s wrought-iron threshold when Edred abruptly descended Copernicus and surged towards the girl in flight, hand gripping the hilt of his sword. A bright, confused-sounding whistle erupted from Copernicus as the force of the action took him by surprise.

Edred’s moon-colored hair fanned out behind him, and his wool coat flapped over his boots as he continued his pursuit. Emma barely had time to comprehend the sight when a memory flew up unbidden in her mind’s eye. She saw a flash of delicate, green laurels braiding across glistening silver armor, a stony and ancient-faced man coming towards her in much the same manner as Edred was now, and a sword - hungry for a sheath - the bite of its blade so hot and wretched as it sunk down into her shoulder.

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest and she felt the black scrim come over her at once, clouding out her eyes and engulfing her in a kinetic fire the color of ink.

“Stay back!” She howled, balling her small hands into fists.

Edred saw the transformation and desisted immediately. He landed right in front of her and planted his feet in the mud. His hands dropped from the hilt of his sword and flew up in front of his chest like an experienced lion-tamer prepared to subdue the lion.

“Melinda…” he called to her gently this time. To Emma it sounded gargled as though his voice had been swallowed up by a tempestuous wind. She stood stock-still as the black fire ranged all around and through her. Its power was heady like the incense that permeated the seance parlors of the Spiritualists. It dulled and dizzied her and made her ill. Instinctively, she began to fight it, and in doing so, Melinda grew ever-dimmer.

She could feel Melinda slipping away.

Edred called to her once more. This time his voice was as clear and sobering as a church bell and it thundered through the murky haze, cutting right through to her. Emma’s knees buckled and she surrendered herself to the ground. Quicker than Mercury, Edred caught her and held her there in his arms. Not even a second had passed before Copernicus’s own bronze appendages went whizzing past the elf’s head directly to the nape of Emma’s neck. The robot clanked past with Seng in tow, brandishing a bronze stethoscope with an ear like a phonograph which he placed gently over Emma’s heart.

It felt horribly heavy and as cold as ice.

The girl groaned in protest but Melinda’s power, along with Emma’s physical strength, was waning. Melinda was dissipating into her and she could no more push her three companions away than she could conjure the ferocious energy required to transport herself out of there.

Seng’s face peered out over Copernicus’s metal shoulder, his brow deeply furrowed.

“Melinda, are you alright?” His voice was small and wavering.

“She’s alright,” Edred grunted at the boy. “She overpowered herself. It has happened before.”

The elf gathered the girl in his arms and, looking all around, laid his eyes on a particularly gloomy mausoleum. Its old iron door hung half-ajar and it was surrounded by a thick colony of thistles. They guarded the tomb like little purple soldiers.

“Wait out here,” Edred barked at the robot and the boy and whisked the girl away inside before pulling shut the iron door. Edred stepped forward into the thick darkness and lay the girl on the dusty crypt. Errant streams of light wound their way through the tomb, dappling the stones with drops of sunshine.

The slab of granite was cool and damp. Emma slowly drew herself up. Her eyes wandered over the tomb - the scent of wet dust and aging stone clung to the air and the rheum of epochs, black mold, had gathered in the tomb’s four corners. Her eyes flickered over Edred who stood facing the corner of the tomb most heavily shrouded in darkness. His right hand hovered over the hilt of his sword and she could see the black of his pupils as he glared at her from out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry,” she offered weakly. Edred’s countenance remained as unchanged as the tomb’s stone facade.

“Which one?”

The question made Emma’s heart flutter like a swarm of butterflies.

“I’m sorry—”

“Which one are you, now?”

The girl shook her head and she produced an agitated sigh.

“I don’t know, I don’t know if there is a way I can know. She’s me and I’m her, and I’m her and she’s me, and –”

Edred turned round to face her, his dark eyes rinsing over her. Quite frankly, Emma found the elf formidable. She didn’t understand Melinda’s fervent attraction to him – he possessed none of the gentleness of aptitude that had always drawn her to Winston.

“Well, I believe you’re that Emma-person, right now,” his voice was silvery and sharp in the mausoleum air. “And I want to speak to her.”

Emma leapt from the stone slab to the floor. His incessant haughtiness helped pummel her fear of him into outright irritation.

“You’re going to get who I give you,” she scowled and jabbed at the air with her finger. “And you’re going to leave me alone until I get this all sorted —“

With an unearthly quickness, Edred bridged the small distance between them. His sword hand went to her wrist still hanging in the air and before the girl could even think to resist, the elf had one hand wrapped around her wrist, the other ensconced to her shoulder and he had begun to pull her closer to him.

Emma’s heart beat faster now, as if an entire field of feathery-winged butterflies had taken up residence in her tummy. The elf prince was really quite adept at overstepping himself. As his hand lingered on her wrist, Emma felt yet another sensation overtake her - a bewitching, pleasing desire to acquiesce at once to his strength concentrated on her wrist. It wove itself around her like an enchanted skein, binding her and bringing her to heel inside a web of warmth. It was wonderful and awful and something Emma had herself never known….

Suddenly, it came to her. Is this his magic?!

MELINDA! Emma called out to her internally. Your Prince is a blackguard! A horrible scoundrel, a truly ignoble man! A vill—

“Emma.” Edred bent himself down to her height, their foreheads nearly brushing. He sounded rather like a grown-up trying to allay the temper of a spoiled child.

“Emma, please listen to me,” he said. “Melinda must have full control over her power. Without that control, she is capable of leveling whole cities. Even murder.”

At this, Emma recoiled - she could feel the darkness bubbling and roiling within her like a tar-pit. It was blacker than beetles’ wings, blacker than the eyes of Anubis, blacker than the abyss of passing centuries. Melinda had not wanted to be reminded of that. Emma shivered.

“Please, Emma, give yourself over to her. Something…happens…when she tries to go through you,” he was pleading with her now. “She can’t control herself and it is putting us, and the world, in danger.”

“Well, that’s not very fair.” Emma’s voice was soft. She did know that to be true - what was happening to her was expressly unfair - but his requests bothered her in another way. She couldn’t quite place it. Melinda, what–?

“Fair?” A crimson blush murkied the elf’s frosty pallor and he tensed his grip on her shoulder. “The fate of all humankind is at risk and the only thing you can say is that you think it’s unfair?”

The black murk began its bubbling once more. The longer Edred held her there, the more irate she became. Their bond bled through to her and she knew the truth of him all at once. She knew his cruelty disguised as chivalry, latent cowardice in his heart. Take back your arm, Emma! The words were spectral commands in her mind.

“Oh, I have plenty more to say. First, what happened back there? Why was I out there all alone?” The girl put her lower lip forward quite petulantly. Edred balked and frowned and clasped her wrist with greater force.

“You - I mean, Melinda - were uncontrollable. You were - she was - destroying everything around her. She fled to avoid causing more destruction.” Edred narrowed his eyes. “You caused this.”

“Excuse me,” Emma sniffed, lifting her arm from Edred’s hand and ducking out from under him. “But, I’m not the one going ‘round stealing other peoples’ bodies,” she narrowed her eyes back at him. “And furthermore, I don’t know if I trust you.”

At that, Edred’s mouth fell open and his chivalrous veneer slipped entirely.

“Don’t trust me?” He snarled out the words. “And what – what – EXACTLY does that mean?!”

“I think you know what I mean. I think you know exactly what I mean.”

“Emma!”

The terse exchange must’ve alerted both Seng and Copernicus for as soon as they had started in on one another, a tremulous knock sounded at the door of the mausoleum. The strength of it shook the cobwebs and crumbling stones loose and even made the little dapples of light jump all around. Emma shot Edred a look - it was the kind of look that could make milk curdle and rivers run dry.

And then, like a bolt from the blue, Winston’s face flashed before her in place of Edred’s. It nearly sent her wobbling. There he was - sweet, dignified Winston, who never cast a cold eye upon her and always regarded her with a smile. Winston, whose warm, chaste arms held her but once before she had been spirited away by the elf, his blustery paramour, and their strange companions. Winston, whose fiery mutton-chop whiskers had tickled her face when she leaned in to kiss him for the first time. Winston, who always told her not to worry, who wore a gold ring braided with her canary-yellow hair bearing the inscription ‘Ever Thine.’

Ever thine. Emma’s heart crumpled. She wanted so desperately to return to Winston, to go far away from these strange, unearthly beings and the medieval horror of their tryst. Before she had slipped away, Melinda had yanked back those horrid memories and withheld them from the girl. Emma couldn’t discern why exactly Melinda did not want to her know (and frankly, she felt it a little hypocritical that the foreign spirit should expect to occupy her body without sharing anything in return), but though the memories had been taken back, Emma had already felt the sting of their betrayal.

In the first few weeks following her possession, Emma had come to know Melinda well, much to the woman’s chagrin. Emma had poked around Melinda’s unruly subconscious, turning up her memories the way a miner unearths precious stones. She knew that Melinda carried an insurmountable pain, and Emma knew that pain quite well. Whether or not Melinda wanted it (and Emma knew she very much did not), a strange sisterhood had begun to grow between them. Melinda was unable to resist her more and more, unable to prevent the girl from wandering into the tender things Melinda had occulted behind a multitude of centuries.

So, it was to Emma’s own surprise that she had not yet uncovered that hideous memory. What had Edred done to her? And had she not forgiven him? It certainly did not seem like it - but, how long had she kept this hurt from him? What a strange love this was - however cold and marked with betrayal, it was also true. Edred loved Melinda, and she, him. And they had loved one another across oceans of time. Perhaps…if they could mend it, mend this torturous sundering of their love, then Melinda could return as herself in full.

The illusion of Winston’s face began to wane as Edred’s came back into view amidst the darkness of the tomb. Emma knew she could not return to Winston, not now. If it be true Evil that dogged these peculiar lodgers then Emma knew more of it than any mortal ever should. And she knew, in her heart, that there was work to be done.

Winston, wherever you are, know that I am ever thine. Even if we shall not meet again until after we cross the threshold of eternity.

“Look,” she said to Edred. “I know you want her back and,” the girl softened, “She…she wants you. But earlier today, I lost her. She lost me - I think that’s what happened- anyway, we lost each other. And now I’m mostly Emma, again. I think.”

Another knock sounded at the door, followed by a furious whizzing and sizzling as Copernicus began to lay into it with a bronze drill.

“Melinda! Edred! What are you doing in there?” Seng’s muffled voice rang out.

Edred and Emma look towards one another and then to the door that had begun to crumple beneath the force of Copernicus’s tools.

“Just a minute!” They called out together. Emma turned back towards Edred, her eyes glistened furiously in the dark.

“Melinda needs our help.”

“I think,” Emma continued. “I think I know a place that can help bring her out. But we have to go there alone.” Edred looked on her with grave curiosity and suspicion, and the butterflies stormed around her stomach once more. She dropped her own gaze to the sword at his left hip.

“Can, err, can your sword –”

“Twillion.”

“Right. Can Twillion get us there, you think? I don’t know if I can, um, fly, right now.”

Edred unsheathed the magnificent sword and held it aloft. It glowed like krypton in the gloom, its pale blue fire outshining all the street lamps, candles, and hearth fires Emma had known in her short life. It really was a pretty thing, with those wispy laurels winding across its length. She wondered how Edred could ever have used it on his own beloved.

What did your elf-Prince do to you, Melinda?

“Emma, make note of this. I don’t trust you, either.” Edred stood there, unmoving.

And then, he held out his hand. There was determination in his gesture, and the girl tacitly understood. If it meant finding and recovering Melinda in full, Edred would go to the ends of the earth many times over. Her heart swooned a little at that, but the pragmatist in her (the side of her that had learned to use a typewriter and to ride an ordinary bicycle and to even wear the dreaded bloomers her dear father so detested) knew that the elf had kept hidden his brutish secrets.

She went on wondering if Edred treated everyone and everything as a subject - a constituent to be protected, guarded, even served, but to bend in obedience to his every command. From way deep down, she knew he had always been that way.

“Are you coming, Emma?” His silvery inquiry called her out of her ruminations and she eyed his outstretched hand.

The girl had no choice but to take it. She grasped it quickly and tightly and braced herself for the force she expected would come as they crashed through the ceiling of the mausoleum like a fiery dirigible. And so it took her somewhat by surprise when she felt Edred squeezing back. But somewhere, deep down, she’d been expecting it.

Hoping for it.

[myheartalivewrites]

🍦🦴☁️

Hey Sara, thanks for playing! ❤️

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate

Sheesh a character I hate?? I have sat here for about twenty minutes trying to think of one, I've enlisted my family's help and come up with nothing. Either I hate irredeemable characters that you're meant to hate (Queen Mary, Jeffrey Richards) and can't come up with three good things, or I don't really hate them just kinda dislike them (Nora). According to my husband I hate kinda psycho overacting characters (Faith in Buffy, two characters played by the same actress in the exact same way in The Night Agent and Star Trek Discovery) which I think are more of a faulty execution type problem.

Sorry, I failed at this question. I'm sure I'll think of a dozen ones as soon as I hit post.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

At the moment I'm very inspired by historical romance novels. And to be honest, after I wrote Foxden I thought I'd have gotten it out of my system, but it's actually only gotten worse, so I'm working on something else along those lines (though not firstprince I'm afraid)

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

Ooh, the username! It's from a Joanna Newsom song, You Will Not Take My Heart Alive, from the classic, hall of fame, one of my all time favourite things in the whole entire world album Divers. The user name came about because after waiting for about 6 weeks in the queue to get a ao3 account, I'd seen that plenty of people titled their fics etc with quotes from their favourite songs, so I picked this one.

Now, my girl Joanna is not on Spotify, but if you like weird whimsical folk harp hippie music, full of gorgeous imagery and obscure references and storytelling and just so so much good stuff do seek it out!

Truth & Dare ask game if you want to play!

[whiteshipnightjar]

ok it’s the ungodly hours so naturally i’m HAVING THOUGHTS instead of sleeping. but! indulge me if you want to think about it too. out of the 5 songs that Joanna Newsom performed so far, and based on her previous work and choices in that regard, which do you think could be the album title song (like she had for hoom and divers)? or maybe you think it could be a line from one of them as the album title (like for mem)? or a word/phrase that’s not literally in the songs (ys)? or something else entirely??

I’m having this wild feeling that “Little Hand” could be a good title. it just seems to tie the ideas of the songs and the overarching concepts of all 5 so far. at least for me. what do you think?

[bitchyblkqueer]

i have sown untidy forrows across my soul (but i am still a coward) (2181 words) by loislanefanclub Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Green Lantern (Comics), Green Lantern - All Media Types, The Flash (Comics), DCU Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Carol Ferris & Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) Characters: Carol Ferris, Hal Jordan (Green Lantern), Barry Allen (mentioned) Additional Tags: blink and you'll miss it halbarry, Alcohol, Smoking, hal and carol acting like friends, but hal will never be over her lbr, no beta we die like Barry Allen, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, this is supposed to be a lil silly goofy Summary: Hal sipped his beer at the bar. Despite his reputation, he wasn’t constantly looking for a fight, but today he was. Hal gets into a fight at a bar and runs into Carol.

~~~~~~~~~~~

posted the second part of my fic series for hal's birthday wahoo. here's the author's note with some references since i love citing sources

I think Carol should have fired Hal for his stunt in GL #3. generally, I think Carol should be meaner. i noticed that she wasn't wearing a ring and called her fiance her boyfriend in the issue, and i thought that was soooo funny and iconic of her.

The Carl Ferris’s daughter line is straight out of Green Lantern: Sleepers Book 3. I love that Hal is canonically genderfluid, and I tried to show some gender envy toward Carol here 👀

the book is interesting, but I found the misogyny distracting, which is saying something for a Green Lantern book 😭

The title is from In California by Joanna Newsom (best breakup song of all time)

[the-ravening]

Thank you to @hiddenxplaces-blog for the tag!

RULES: spell out your URL using song titles, then tag as many people as there are letters in your URL

Two Weeks, FKA Twigs Heaven, TR/ST Emily, Joanna Newsom - Run From Me, Timber Timbre Apple of Sodom, Marilyn Manson Venice Bitch, Lana Del Rey Ego Death, Polyphia Neon Bible, Arcade Fire Isobel, Björk Never Is A Promise, Fiona Apple Gibson Girl, Ethel Cain

(click on the little links if you're curious to hear any of the songs)

No pressure tagging, if any of you'd like to share some of your music: @zsparz, @ex0rin, @unlikelymilliner, @goretier, @rivereddies, @irl-dogboy, @5ummit, @evenmyhivemindisempty, @liminal-zone, @milarca, @gunshou

[moldwood]

for the music asks: 1, 2, 5, 9, 28?

1: A song you like with a color in the title

i've been listening to this one on loop lately! i was torn between this and bull in the heather by sonic youth, but i feel like since i was listening to this one more often i had to go with it 2: A song you like with a number in the title

this is a cover; the original by joanna newsom is also soooooooo good, but i know her voice is an acquired taste. this song is one of my all time favorites. if i ever got a lyric tattoo, it would be from this song. marika cut out the first three lines of the last verse which is unthinkable tbqh because they are the most emotionally hitting ones: The unending amends you've made // Are enough for one life // Be done 5: A song that needs to be played LOUD

soooooo hard to pick just one but this is a Must. pup is full of must play loud songs. matila and totally fine are also on looooop lately

9: A song that makes you happy

this one might need a little explanation... it makes me think of my character avalon since it is the type of song that would be a children's rhyme from her childhood, and she is silly and makes me happy. so song regardless..... it makes me happy!

28: A song by an artist with a voice that you love

i haven't actually listened to any more songs by this group yet but ooooooh the tone of her voice is so airy and deep i looooooooove it.

[warmclimate]

Tagged by @schalotte 🐑 to spell out my username in song titles! this was so fun!! ^-^

Paisagem da Janela - Lô Borges

Lábios de Mel - Maria Bethânia

Alvorada - Cartola

Newspaper - Fiona Apple

Take It Easy My Brother Charles - Jorge Ben Jor

Beloved! Paradise! Jazz!? - McKinley Dixon, Ms. Jaylin Brown

Undo - Björk

They Can't Take That Away From Me - Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong

Tanta Saudade - Ana Carolina, Seu Jorge

Emily - Joanna Newsom

Run Away With Me - Sufjan Stevens

Tagging @thehappysmiler ~ 🪻