#oops im pagan now

[aspyn-posts]

hey bichesssss

guess what i changed my religion

[fadingdaggerr]

first of all, your writing? phenomenal. absolutely obsessed with the way you portray everything. I've always struggled with being able to picture what I read, but the way you write makes it surprisingly much easier.

second, if you are open to it, could you maybe write a melissa/reader fic inspired by the song "Dessert Rose" by Lolo Zouaï? I listened to it for the first time in a minute the other day and have not been able to stop thinking about a melissa schemmenti fan fic to this song.

be my protector

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above, based on desert rose by lolo zouaï | 5.5 k

includes: angst, hurt/comfort, so much dialogue oops, r is scary dog privilege, slightly ooc mel

warnings: homophobia, religious themes/iconography, themes of guilt/shame

italics are flashbacks | st. rita - matron saint of impossible causes

translations: faccia di culo (assface), dolcezza (sweetness), cogliona (stupid)

note: this song is about a fight between identity and faith. however, i know legit nothing about catholicism since i was raised pagan, so if my info is wrong im sorry.

You’d forced yourself to spend a few nights apart so you could finish your own work, always too distracted by Melissa’s presence to even think. Three days at your own apartment was torture, but the motivation worked as planned. A little smile crosses your lips as you look at the Go Away mat, playing with your keys under the porch light until you find the one with the pink dot of Melissa’s nail polish.

Before you even get the key in, the door swings open to Jacob, shaking like a geriatric chihuahua, “oh thank God you’re here tonight.”

Ridding yourself of your jacket and shoes, you chuckle, “you made me sync our calendars, you knew I’d be here. Where’s Mel?”

He knocks his head to the side, “pacing and muttering in the kitchen. I interrupted and got called a ‘faccia di culo,’ but I think that’s a type of bread.”

“Not even close,” you say, patting his shoulder. Moving past him, you lean against the doorway of the kitchen. Eyes closed, Melissa mutters to herself as she walks back and forth. Nails of one hand dig into her side through her shirt, knuckles white from the pressure. The other hand fiddles with her saints, rubbing them between her fingers. Flushed cheeks puff with each breath, clearly trying to calm herself down.

Walking in, you seat yourself at the island, letting her come to you. A sigh passes her lips, telling you that she knows about your presence. After a beat, her pacing stops, and your hand reaches out to take away the harsh grip from her side. She tries to shake your hand away, but you insist. 

Letting you this time, she keeps her eyes closed as you gently massage the tension out of her fingers. Green eyes crack open, looking drained and still lingering with anger. Entwining your fingers, you pull her to stand between your legs. Bringing her hand up, you press a kiss to soft skin, a quiet plea to know what happened.

The shake of her head is a stern not-right-now. Entirely not calm enough to speak without yelling, her head just drops to your shoulder. You lean your head against hers, squeezing the hand laced in yours. Her weight rests completely on you after a moment, letting your arms wrap around her to keep her upright. The hand clenched at her sides relaxes, coming to rest on your thigh. Scratching up and down her back, you feel the stiff breaths fade, replaced with deep sighs.

Coming to hold her hip, you push her back from you. Nodding up, you silently ask her to go upstairs. Melissa squints at you, a silent rejection of your treatment. Cocking your head to the side, you raise your eyebrows in a silent plea.

Green eyes speak for her, I’m not a child.

Just let me take care of you, yours say back.

With a heavy breath, she pulls back from you. Trudging from the kitchen, she completely ignores Jacob’s wide gaze that follows her. Loud thuds of her footsteps go upstairs, with you trailing behind her. You look to her roommate, giving him a thumbs-up as you make your way up.

Closing the bedroom door behind you, you move to sit next to her on the bed. “You don’t have to tell me what’s bothering you,” you start softly. “All I need to know is if I need to break out my brass knuckles.”

Melissa lets out a dry laugh, keeping her eyes on the floor, “no, no knuckles. Just Seamus. He invited me- us- to dinner at his place. This weekend.”

“Okay?” You say slowly, finger pointing into your chest. The youngest Schemmenti sibling is over at least twice a month for dinner, the only you’ve met, but adore nonetheless. “Why’s that making you so… this?” You gesture to her tense posture and she gives you a sly look.

“He always comes here. The boy can’t cook, what’s he even inviting us over for?” She moves her gaze to the floor, “it’s fishy.”

You nod silently, thinking for a second. If she had ever given you a straight answer on what happened with the other siblings, this would be so much easier. Seamus is only still acceptable because he was too young to have done anything. Every time you tried to broach the topic, she’d just say they were dead to her and that it ain’t good to talk about the dead. It had been months since you tried, after she nearly broke a door off the hinge over seeing her sister in passing at the charter school. 

“Well I certainly won’t force you to go,” you start slowly, “but it’s dinner, baby.” Leaning into her, you grab her hand and lace your fingers together, “he’ll probably order some takeout, so no worries about him poisoning us. Plus you got me, I’m always on your side.”

Looking at you, Melissa scans your face as she weighs her options. A small smile toys at her lips, “how do you always do that?’’

“What?”

“Make everything better?” Melissa gives a faux pout, hand grabbing your cheeks into a smoosh.

Pulling her hand away from your face, you press a kiss to her palm, “I don’t, I’m just telling you my thoughts.” Rolling her eyes, her fingers graze your cheek again with the faintest of touches. Just as she's about to lean in, you add, “go apologize to Chicken Little, he’s probably used Google translate by now.”

Pink lips form into another pout. Raising your brows, you motion to the door. Biting her tongue, Melissa stands up and walks to the door. Just before she opens it, she strides back over to grab your face, planting a solid kiss on your lips. Turning back, she smirks to herself as she walks down the stairs.

—☽—

Melissa Schemmenti loved her family and her family loved her. Once.

Family dinner every night was always loud with so many conversations happening at the same time. Tony and Kristin Marie are always chatting about the show they watched together, John Anthony trying to recount his whole day to no one in particular, Mary Camille pestering Melissa about how they should rearrange their room again. There was a sense of peace in the white noise her family created. A comfort in the routine.

Once she was in high school, most of the family did not attend anymore. Tony was always off with his friends for days on end and Marie stayed up in her room, taking her plate silently with her. Melissa always stayed, directly at her mother’s side, holding her hand as they said grace. With every dinner, she always had to kick Kristin Marie to remind her to shut her eyes, unless she wanted to face the disgusted glint in Teresa’s eyes.

Arriving home late after tutoring, Melissa’s brows furrowed. It was so quiet in the house, eerily so. Walking towards the kitchen, she could smell the vegetable risotto, it was always her favorite. Following her nose to the table, Melissa pouted at Mary Camille in her usual seat next to their mother. The only open chair was at the very end of the table, facing only Teresa. Taking her place, she peeked up to her family, met with everyone’s eyes already on her.

Maria Christina, who was always glued to her side, was leaning away, shoulders bumping with Tony’s, who was surprisingly home. Looking at Kristin Marie, her gaze was not met. The sense of calm that had been flowing through her was ripped away. The edges of her vision frayed as the seat at the head of the table was filled. Green eyes that match hers stared back, unblinking and devoid of care.

Manicured hands rested on the table, nails tapping. The face across from hers so alike her own, it had always felt like the future peering at her through a furrowed brow. Tensing, she knew not to break eye contact.

“Melissa Ann Caterina,” her mother said, slow and acidic.

“Ma,” she answered, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

Red nails dug into the wood, “who is Bianca?”

Biting her inner lip, Melissa looked at her mother with wide, terrified eyes. Teresa stayed stoic, brows only raising slightly, still demanding an answer to her question. “I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“Your dolcezza on the swim team,” her mother spat. A small pink notebook was placed on the table, bent edges flattened. “Does this ring any bells, cogliona?”

No one knew where her diary was, other than who she shared a room with. Her eyes flicked to Mary Camille, who looked as if she’s about to cry when her hazel eyes met green. If fear wasn’t pumping through her veins, she would have strangled her sister right this very moment. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Melissa nodded in response to her mother.

“Selfish,” Teresa hissed, “everything I’ve taught you, that Father David taught you, gone. You spit in the face of blood, of God? St. Rita won’t even want you.”

“I listened,” Melissa whimpered out, voice and hands trembling alike.

“Clearly not.”

The eyes of her siblings dropped from her frame, all watching their laps as their mother yelled relentlessly. Air hurts to breathe, skin crawling, bones aching in guilt. Melissa wished she could run, but she couldn’t even move. Her shaky hand rose to her neck, grasping at her chest. The gold pendant felt like it may just burn her.

—☽—

Wild eyes shoot open, body sitting up in the bed. Heaving, she tries to catch her breath, fingers squeezing at the comforter. To her left, you’re still sleeping, facing her with a hand reaching out. Trembling, Melissa removes herself from the bed, trudging to the ensuite. Looking at herself in the mirror, she still sees that sixteen-year-old girl, puffy-eyed and red-nosed.

The walls were too familiar. Brick everywhere, plastic over the lampshade, worn down rugs faded and fused to the floor. It’s the same, it never changes. The grandfather clock ticking at the end of the hall gives away the occasion.

Forcing herself to take deep breaths, Melissa leans against the cold wall to soothe her clammy skin. Her hands splay out in front of her, tightening into fists then relaxing, attempting to rid the tension instead of punching the mirror. Tears burn her eyes but do not fall, she refuses to let them get to her again.

Always seven o’clock. Always the open seat at the end.

In bed, your hand brushes across the warm space where Melissa had been. Cracking open an eye, you pout at the empty spot. The light from under the bathroom door draws your attention, staring at it as you wait for her to come back. Flickering eyes pop open at the sound of rattled breathing from the other room.

Stumbling off the mattress, you drag yourself in front of the door. Knocking softly, you rest your forehead against smooth wood, “baby? You okay?”

“Fine, hon,” comes her muffled reply, “just go back to bed.”

“Can’t without you,” you say, more awake now. No reply comes, just the sound of her breathing, still fast. The stuttering gives away her attempt to calm herself, desperate to lessen the weight in her chest. “Let me in, Mel,” you beg quietly, fingers tracing the grain of the wooden door.

Without answering, the door opens to reveal her, wearing only your t-shirt and a frown. Fat tears cling to her lashes, her stubbornness keeping them from her cheeks. Shuffling past you, she sinks herself back on the mattress, looking at you expectantly. Joining her, you open your arms to let her curl into your side.

Burying into your neck, Melissa releases a deep breath that had been stuck in her chest since she awoke. Letting her weight rest against you, her arm wraps firmly around your middle. Twirling sections of her hair, your eyes flit across the ceiling while the gears of your mind turn.

Melissa is so glad she’s not facing you, croaking out, “was just a bad dream.”

“It’s not just a bad dream if it makes you cry, baby,” you say against her hair, pressing a kiss there. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Shaking her head, she settles further into you. Hand dragging down, she tucks it under your shirt, splaying across your side. Pressing her lips to your neck, Melissa silently hopes that you’ll take it instead of an answer. Another kiss lands on her forehead, an acceptance.

Sleep finds you quickly, but Melissa’s mind evades it at every chance. Leaning away from you slightly, she simply watches you. The rise and fall of your chest, the way your head turned as she pulled away. Her eyes trace your face, attention catching on the slight scrunch of your brow. Guilt bubbles in her throat, hot tears stinging once again. Tucking back into your side, she places another kiss to your neck, this time an apology for making you worry.

—☽—

It’s better to not pry, no matter how much you wish you could right now. Melissa’s eerie silence has filled the morning, and you’ve found yourself thankful that Jacob fell asleep at Janine’s movie night. Sweet and well-intentioned as he is, his overactive heart might just land him with worse than an assumption of focaccia.

Rounding into the bedroom, the redhead sits at her vanity, diligently applying her eyeliner. Watching her place it down, you come up behind her to press a kiss to the crown of her head. Wordlessly, you detangle the necklaces beside her, arranging them. Moving her hair to the side, you put on the diamond her Nonna got her for her thirteenth birthday. Then her cross, silver to match the other chain. Her three golden saints finish it, matching the rings adorning her fingers.

Melissa hums a silent thanks, unscrewing her mascara. Stealing her room temperature coffee, you lean against the vanity. “You’re beautiful,” you say into the mug.

Melissa turns to you, black coated lashes on one eye, still-blonde lashes on the other. With an unamused face, she mutters, “only you think that right now.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true,” you match her quiet tone, tilting your head down to look at her through your lashes. Flicking your gaze over her, you finally realize that the sweater she wears is yours. A grin passes your lips, leaning to press another kiss to her head. Pushing off the vanity, you leave her to get ready alone, the silence making you slightly jittery.

Flopping onto the couch in the living room, you stare at the ceiling until in wait, losing yourself in your mind. Melissa’s fear about going to her brother’s was still so puzzling, clearly eating at her despite her refusal to acknowledge it to you. Just a bad dream, she had called it. As much as you didn’t believe her, and still don’t, you left it alone.

The creak of Melissa walking down the steps pulls you from your mind, sitting up to look at her over the couch. How small she looked, nervous and bundled in your ancient sweater, fiddling with the frayed edge of the sleeve. You extend your hand over the back of the couch, inviting her closer. Sitting up on your knees, you tug her into your space.

“We don’t have to go,” you say, “can just blame it on me, say I’m sick and need you to nurse me back to health. Or that I got shot, whatever works.”

A sudden laugh shoots from her lips, “oh, of course, the only two options for an excuse.”

“I went out in a blaze of glory, so sorry Seamus,” you say with a false solemn tone, bringing her hand to your heart in a double-handed clutch. “My last wish was beer and mediocre Chinese food, a shame we must miss it.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Melissa fights back giggles. “We’ll go. It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine.”

You know that she’s speaking more to herself than you, so you just nod. Freeing her hand from your grasp, Melissa shoves her feet into heeled boots. Looking over her shoulder, her expectant gaze pulls you from your seat to put on your Converse.

Grabbing the keys before she can, you pull the door open to motion for her head out before you. As you start the car, your hand hovers over the gear shift, debating if you actually leave with her so clearly stressed beside you. A soft hand falls over yours, wrapping your hand around the shift in silent permission.

A quiet drive leads you to the other end of the city, in front of a brick building with only a few cars parked on the street. Removing the keys from the engine, you get out to jog around the car, opening the door for Melissa. Green eyes scan the street, eyeing each vehicle with suspicion, but relinquishes once you wrap a steady arm around her waist.

Pressing the button with the crossed out name, knowing well of the Schemmenti habit, you wait for the buzzer. The click of the door unlocking comes, and you tug it open, holding it open for Melissa. With a deep breath, she walks in. Immediately, her hand grasps your own, almost walking behind you as you walk down to Seamus’s apartment.

Knocking is unnecessary as the youngest Schemmenti opens the door with a massive grin, “you actually came!”

You chuckle, shrugging off your jacket and grabbing Melissa’s from her, hanging them on the hooks beside you. Leaning into his side-hug, you joke, “well, I was promised sesame chicken.”

“It’ll be here, I called like fifteen minutes ago,” he says, wrapping an arm around his big sister’s shoulders. “And worry not, Melly Bean, I got a double order of crab rangoons.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at the nickname, fighting the grin on her face. Pulling from his side, she brings herself over to you, arm tucking itself around your hips. Your own goes around her shoulder, the other offering her a freshly opened beer. Immediately, she chugs half of it, not even bothering to look at your reaction of pursed lips.

The pre-game shows appear on the TV, announcers talking about star players and underdogs of the season. Leaning against your side more, Melissa tucks her head into your shoulder. Squeezing her shoulder in silent question, you feel her nod softly.

Half way through your beers, Seamus looks up from his phone, eyes staying clear of either of yours or Melissa’s eyes. Standing, he awkwardly lingers, “the- uh- the food’s here. So, I’m gonna grab the food… because it’s here. The food.” 

Your brows scrunch, looking him over. The slight shifting of his weight gives away his anxiety, as if his repetition wasn’t enough. Without really thinking, your arm wraps tighter around the redhead’s shoulders. Pushing back your skepticism, you say, “then go get it?”

“Yeah, kid. Don’t need permission, it’s your place,” Melissa’s dismissive tone makes you turn. So tuned into the game, she hadn’t picked up on his tone, let alone his tense posture. Turning quickly, Seamus nearly runs out of the room to leave the apartment. Keeping your eyes on him, you watch him take a deep breath before stepping out the door. Simmering, you turn back to the TV, unblinking gaze barely focusing. What is this little shit up to?

When the door reopens after five minutes, two voices come through it. The tension in your body finally catches up to Melissa, head flying off your shoulder so fast, you swear she could have gotten whiplash. Turning to face you, a mix of fear and anger crosses her face. Glossy lips fall into a deep frown, stern eyes in place to fight her tears.

“I knew it was a setup,” she grumbles, pulling away from you to rise from the couch, “never shoulda fucking came here.” Following behind her, you keep your space.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Melissa pauses, staring at her mother. Sensing the eyes on her, Teresa turns, judging eyes flicking over her daughter before a crocodile smile crosses her face. “My Melly,” she says, opening her arms. “Come here, let me look at you.”

Shuffling, Melissa approaches her mother cautiously with crossed arms. Stopping just outside her grasp, she asks, “did you make him do this?”

“It was him that asked me if I wanted to see you,” Teresa says. “I’m guessing he didn’t tell you?”

“He left that part out,” Melissa says, nails digging into her skin through her sweater. “What even got you here?”

“I can’t want to see my daughter?” The only reply the question gets is a raised brow. Teresa caves, “he said you had a new boyfriend. Well, partner, like the younger kids are saying now. But I wanted to meet him anyway, he here?”

The sigh that passes Melissa’s lips can be felt from your spot around the corner. It was her telling you to get over to her, forcing the bandaid off. With all your strength, you school your features, keeping the daggers from going to Seamus. A smile crosses your lips, sticking your hand out and introducing yourself, “nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Teresa says, eyes fighting a squint. The expression is so similar to Melissa’s that it makes you pause. Retracting your hand, step back next to Melissa. Green eyes meet their match, and the staredown between mother and daughter feels as though it may start a fire.

“Food’s ready to eat,” Seamus says through his voice cracking, “grab whatever you want.”

“Thank you, Seamus,” you say with a sickly sweet smile, stalking towards him to make plates for you and Melissa. Stepping back as you get closer, he keeps the island between you and him, moving when you move. Your eyes flick to Melissa, watching her wide eyes stare at the floor as she seats herself at the end of the island. Pushing her plate over to her, she silently accepts it, waiting for you before she starts eating.

The silence over the table is deafening, somehow reverberating off brick walls. Seating yourself next to Melissa, you push around sesame chicken until someone else takes a bite. Across the table, opposite of Melissa, sits her mother, twirling lo mein with precision. It’s a one sided stalemate, Melissa’s eyes never leaving her plate.

A scoff from Teresa echoes in the room, all eyes turning to her. “Seriously?”

Green eyes stay on the rangoons, “what, Ma?”

“You do this to me again?” The acid in her tone makes Melissa’s eyes squeeze shut. The more her mother speaks, the tighter they get, stars appearing behind her eyelids.

It feels the same. The brick walls. The long table separating them. No one touching their food. The way Seamus’s eyes falter when he tries to look at her. It’s as if the universe is hellbent on her repeating this moment. Black seeps in the edges of her vision, crackling and dense. Her mother’s voice feels like it’s in her head, like it never left. All the warmth in Melissa’s body sits in the center of her chest, fire burning beneath her pendants.

“Again and again, you defy everything I’ve taught you,” her mother continues. “I thought this little game was done, but of course not. Not for you.”

The anger bubbling inside you begins to spill, white knuckles gripping the edge of the table. Mask dropping, the disdain for the woman in front of you palpable. Whether it's your grip or Melissa’s shaking that vibrates the tables, you can’t be bothered to care.

“I prayed and prayed, begging for St. Rita to help you, to give you a chance. But you’re longer just a lost cause, you’re an abomina-”

“Lady, shut your fucking mouth!” You bark, standing up. Leaning forward on your hands you seeth, “you do not speak to her that way. Ever!”

Melissa’s eyes fly from her plate to you, brows practically meeting her hairline. Scanning over you, she can see the anger seeping from you. It’s unlike any other time she’s seen you mad, you’re beyond seething. Your name passes her lips, trying to get you to stand down, but her voice fails her.

Teresa rises from her seat, “you do not get to speak. You are not part of this family.”

“I’m not part of your family, thank God. But Melissa, she’s my family. And I don’t like people fucking with my family.”

The glare she gives you, it's so similar to Melissa’s once again. The thought alone makes a small smirk cross your face, looking at her like you’re daring her to try you. A face so similar to Melissa’s could never intimidate you, even if it’s worn by someone who hates you.

“If you have anything else to say,” you step closer, “you say it to me. Not her.”

“Okay-” Seamus tries to cut in and defuse the tension. Both you and Teresa turn to look at him with equal warning, immediately putting him back in his seat. Looking back at each other, the older woman points a finger at you.

“My daughter rejected her family, her God. And now, she’s burying herself deeper with encouragement from you,” she spits, lips curling in anger.

Stepping closer again, you meet her pointing hand. Voice low, you duck into her space, “was it her that rejected you, or you that rejected your daughter?”

Turning away, you join Melissa’s side, and hand wrapping around her bicep. A gentle tug pulls her from her seat, walking her to the door. Grabbing her coat, you wordlessly place it around her, avoiding her eyes. Shrugging on your own coat, you announce into the apartment, “feel free to not come by next week, Seamus.”

Opening the door, you motion for Melissa to walk out first, feeling her stern gaze on you. Silence in the hall follows you to the car. The second the radio begins to play, Melissa turns it off, just staring at you as you start the car and begin to drive home. Mouth agape, her words falter. Flicking to the steering wheel, she watches you flex your hands against the leather, desperate to smother the fire inside you.

Her eyes never leave you until you pull into her driveway, immediately throwing herself out of the car and climbing up the steps. Pausing at the door, she groans, knowing you have the keys. Stepping in, you both stay quiet as you take off your shoes and jackets.

Trudging up the stairs, Melissa follows you. Neither of you speak as you change into your pajamas, nor as you get in bed. Facing away from you, Melissa stares unblinkingly at the outline of her dresser. Turning to face her back, you watch her breathing, seeing the stuttering in the rise and fall. Leaning forward, you press a tentative kiss to her shoulder.

“I love you,” you whisper, patiently waiting for her echo. All you get is a little hum, and her face burying into her pillow.

—☽—

Heavy eyelids crack open as sleep crumbles away. Instinctively, you look to the side, seeing Melissa still sleeping beside you. Curled in on herself, she seemed to have shuffled further away from you before falling asleep. The thought alone makes you look away, turning to the clock. Only six in the morning, on a Sunday no less. Sighing softly, you roll out of bed, blindly grabbing a sweatshirt from the chair in the corner. Quietly as possible, you walk out of the room, sure to avoid the creaky floorboard right outside the door. Slowly moving down the stairs, you round into the kitchen.

Feeling too lazy to bother with the French press, you scoop grounds into the coffee maker. As the pot sputters, you reach above to the cupboards for three mugs. Part of you hopes that Jacob doesn’t come down for a while, leaving space for you and Melissa to talk when she finally gets up. The other part sort of hopes he does, that way you can delay whatever this conversation will be.

Stirring your coffee, you hear the door of the bedroom open, slow steps coming towards the kitchen. Hearing the familiar shuffle in her steps, you make Melissa's coffee, adding sugar to hers unlike your own. Leaning against the counter, you hold it out the moment she enters the room.

  Taking it with an averted gaze, she gives a slight hum in thanks. Resting against the butcher block, she finally looks at you. Fading mascara and eyeliner crumbles around her eyes, lips no longer glossy. Even if she wouldn’t agree, she’s achingly beautiful. Her tired eyes are just as hard to read as usual, too many thoughts circulating behind jade.

A moment of silence falls over the space, both of you sipping out of your mugs in contemplation. Melissa places her mug down first, breaking the tension. Tilting her head, she prompts you to speak first.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, placing your mug on the counter next to you. “I shouldn’t have yelled- or swore- at her.”

“No,” she mutters, “you shouldn’t have. But why did you?”

Feeling your face warm a little, you look down at the floor, eyes tracing the grain of the wood. “For the same reasons I said. You’re my family, I love you,” your fingers flex against the marble counter. “And hearing her talk to you like that, I couldn’t just sit there. Even if she’s your mother.”

“I love you, too. And how much you love me,” Melissa says. Stepping closer to bring your attention back to her, her brow raises as she speaks, “and you need to keep your temper in check, especially if shit like that ever happens again.”

Scanning her face, you can see that the lingering anger from last night is entirely gone. There’s something close to appreciation, and a hint of warning with her cocked brow. Pursing your lips to keep from grinning, you just nod.

A hand releases from the counter, drawing an X over your heart, “no brass. Real or metaphorical, promise.”

“Good,” Melissa mumbles with a smile growing on her lips. Grabbing your wrist, she hauls you towards her. Soft lips press against your own, slow and gentle. Pushing into her, you back her into the butcher block, hands locked on her hips. Your tongue glides across her lips, immediately let in. Delighting in the sighed moan that follows, you smile against her. Her hands slide up your arms to cup your face, keeping you close as she deepens the kiss.

Eager fingers slip underneath her shirt, gripping warm skin. Goosebumps rise up your neck as Melissa’s nails dig into you ever so slightly. Just as your hands move to her thighs, ready to sit her on the counter, fast steps descend the old staircase. Jumping apart, you fix Melissa’s shirt, rolling your eyes at the interruption. Grabbing your mug, you press a kiss to her cheek before shuffling back upstairs to shower.

When you come back down, Melissa has migrated to the couch, sprawled across as she watches whatever was on. Rolling over the back, you carefully drop on top of her. With a quiet oof, her arms wrap around you loosely, letting you get comfortable. Tucking into her shoulder, your eyes linger on her neck, tracing the chains. Your hand comes up to fiddle with the saints, thumb brushing over in indented designs. They’d become faded, time and her anxious rubbing of the metal taking the impression away.

Feeling your attention, Melissa peeks down. Her own hand comes to single them out.

“This one’s from Nonna,” she says softly. “Mary, basically every little girl gets this one. And this one’s from Barb, John Baptist,” her thumb brushes over it, “he’s for teachers.” She pulls up the last one, the least degraded of the three, “and this one’s Raphael. Healing.”

You hum, fingers more so tracing her skin than medal anymore, “who’s he from?”

“Myself,” she says coyly. “Kinda against the rules, they’re normally gifted, but…”

You press a kiss to her shoulder, cuddling into her further, “rules, shmules. Intention is what matters. At least I assume it is.”

Melissa doesn’t answer, just tightens her grip around you. Tears fight to fall down her cheeks, and she lets them silently go. So free and comfortable in this moment, with no separation between either part of who she is. It has taken her so long to allow herself the duality, to strip away the bits of her faith that didn’t allow her to simply live. With the family she’s built herself, her Abbott people and now you, there is no choice that must be made.

note: thank you sweet anon for the compliments, they mean the world. this was genuinely one of the hardest reqs i have had because i didn't know this song previously. i went down a rabbit hole to understand the meaning and find a way to incorporate themes of the verses and chorus. thank god for my christian family for giving me something to pull from /s

as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. love you big time xo

[watcherthrowaway]

also one real post about this and like, plenty of ink has been spilt on how disconnected watcher entertainment seems to be from its fans but i think the missing piece here is how disconnected watcher is from the rest of youtube. when the catastrophe hit i went to all my terminally online friends, the same way i did after the hbomberguy james somerton video, or after the ned fulmer fiasco, or the creepshowart scandal etc, or every time jenny nicholson dropped a new evermore video, including the ones behind the $2 patreon paywall we all gladly pay for, and for the first time...

no one knew who i was talking about.

these are not insulated people. these are people i can trust to have at least name recognition of almost any youtuber i mention. they know downtherabbithole and strangeaeons and cjthex and kappakaiju and miniminuteman773 and kazrowe and somemorenews etc etc etc

so when i put in the group chat, with no context, 'he wasnt even on cribs' or 'we have no cats kathleen' or 'only humble pagan commune schemes' or whatever, i usually do so with great trust that at least half the group will know what im on about.

this time, crickets.

i backpedaled a little and pulled up the 'ive connected them' meme and the fuzzy blue professor, and i got nothing at all. the only recognition i got was when someone belatedly realized that he had seen the goatman video when it dropped (although he had no idea that they had their own company now), and another person remembered that they had offered to collab with danny gonzalez, a youtuber with twice the subscribers

because she had checked back to see if danny went ghost hunting again, and lost interest because he hadnt.

i also brought it up in my dedicated buzzfeed unsolved group chat but ummmmm i am the only one in that group still watching ever since the shift to watcher oops

the only splash they had made in my again, TERMINALLY ONLINE friend group that watches hours and hours of youtube a day was a buzzfeed video seven years ago, and when they had failed to collab with someone more famous than them. i found myself in the unusual position of having to explain the situation to a bunch of dirty internet gremlins, all of whom heard the whole story and said 'why would they do that'

not 'why would they do that to their fans' but 'why would they do that as youtubers'

even aside from the moneygrubbing, we watcher stans were confused about why they tried to offer us a service we didn't need or want, and i think it obscured the confusion on why they thought it was a good idea at all, when so many other models were available to them. why werent they using their patreon like other youtubers? why weren't they collaborating with other youtubers? why weren't they putting out regular, lower quality content like other youtubers? if they wanted higher quality content, why weren't they partnering with nebula, like lindsay ellis, or netflix, like bo burnham. why didn't they run their ideas past someone like the green brothers, who have jumpstarted scishow and many other similar projects successfully, and are famously good to work with/consult with? why would they try to pull a roosterteeth? don't they know what happened?

and i think the answer is no. i think they just don't know those things. and they didnt bother to check, because they think all those things are beneath them. because they think corporate content is the only worthwhile kind there is.

why else would they think they have to have an office building, keep dozens of people on staff, buy expensive cameras, and build a streaming platform? why do they only collaborate with actors and singers who have corporate entertainment approval? why are they reinventing the wheel on buzzfeed when thousands of youtubers build perfectly stable careers with a mic and a camera, and sometimes hire an editor?

i guess my takeaway from this is that, at least they didnt break my heart as a fan entirely because they fundamentally misunderstood me. they did it, at least in part, because they do not understand how youtube works, or what part they play in it.

they dont understand how people use youtube. it is not a cinematic event worthy of the big tv, it is line goes up playing in the background for the 400th time as i wash my face and put my laundry away.

that is why they spent months and months planning this without ever noticing it was a bad idea, while millions of youtube viewers knew instantly. thats why they didn't start with a more moderate solution, why they never used their patreon properly, why they cared so much about the production value, why they thought a youtube audience, any audience at all, would jump at the chance to leave youtube.

bc youtube as a creator sucks, and we all know that, but youtube as a viewer is extremely comfortable. all i ask of youtube is to be mildly interesting in the background while i do other stuff. it is filler. some of the filler is extremely good, yes, but there is no room or reason in my life to give more of my money and attention to my filler, let alone to get a bigger screen for it.

and honestly, this is why i and others stayed on with the ghoul boys even though their quality dropped. because it's filler. im not even looking at the screen you apparently spent 100k on. im flipping my eggs. im washing my hair. im waiting for the bus with my headphones in and my phone in my pocket. thank you for being my background music. in return i will sit through your ads and push your view counter up by one. i may even hit the like button by accident bc my phone is in my pocket.

this is not to say i dont enjoy my filler. i would absolutely die without it. but it is not and never will be exchanged for the instances when i make popcorn in The Big Bowl and turn on a Real Movie on the Big Screen (my old laptop that is 15 whole inches) with my phone turned over so nothing can distract me.

my filler can't be my movie, and vice versa. nor should it be. but watcher doesnt understand that, apparently. they think youtube is cruelly preventing them from being netflix, and they think we want netflix, and they don't understand that, even with that half-assed apology that they didn't explain their dream correctly and they are jsut so destitute they had to take extreme measures after they went to europe 6 too many times...

there is a fundamental misunderstanding about how people use youtube , both as creators and as consumers. they didn't just misunderstand their fanbase. they continue to misunderstand the entire ecosystem. idk guys. maybe you should have learned something from those youtubers that you apparently think you are too good for.

and as for me, welp. i've booted people from my filler line-up for less. and there are soooooooooooooo many other fish in the sea, and they are not asking me to pay them 27 corporation salaries from my own pocket. they are asking for me to bump their view counter up by one.

goodbye boys. i really hope you find a way to fulfill yourselves artistically or whatever. but you have burned this particular bridge, like. forever. and i don't think i'm the only one who feels that way.

and not because i dont support people getting a living wage, you guilt-tripping vultures, or because i dont believe in following dreams and wishing on stars and whatnot.

but because i prefer to consume content from people who know what they're doing, and i simply no longer trust that includes you.

[inkedmyths]

S1: E11 "Scarecrow"

I said I would watch some today so here we goooo

One Year Ago? Hm

Ooooh Apple Pie... I want apple pie now

[ Crepe says she thinks I will like this ep. I like apples so this seems like a good sign. ]

Oh is it a cult town? I think its a cult town

Ohhhh spooooky orchard

God I want apples

Thats a spookyass scarecrow

IT MOVED

ITS GONNA COME FOR U

Oh where's he go? Him gone?

OH FUCK HIS FACE

Wasn't there a scary stories chapter like this? A scarecrow that skinned someone?

[ Yes! From Scary Stories to Tell In the Dark: More Tales to Chill Your Bones. This monster isn't Harold, but there are big similarities. ]

HEY ITS THE BASTARD DAD

Ok its a demon? A demon that killed the mom and the gf? Whats its fuckin problem?

Daddy Issues Galore

Generally speaking taking "orders" from a parent is a bad sign for your relationships

NO DEAN THATS NOT HOW PARENTAL RELATIONSHIPS SHOULD WORK

These two are so. So stupid. So bad at emotions in different directions

Worried about their family members and SHIT at expressing it

CLASSIC ROCK FAN fucking moron

Ohhhh this town is definitely a cult or something

Ohhh its a chick. Oh they're going to be the "couple" that get attacked huh

GIRL THATS SO SHADY WHAT. DONT DO THAT

Oh maybe not. Maybe its normal

Ohh weird screaming? Is it the emf? Yep

Haunted orchard haaaaaunted orchard

Ew scarecrow

"Dude you fugly" so true Dean

YOU'RE GONNA POKE IT??

OH FUCK THE SKIN? I WAS RIGHT

Strangercore

OHHHH I get it I seeee like. A yearly sacrifice that keeps the crops bountiful

Lmao girl I knew it

GOD ALL THESE APPLES I WANT APPLE PIE 😭

Dean stop talking to people you're bad at it

Ohhhh they are so definitely being sacrificed

HHHRGH

Dean gets arrested pt..... whatever. Moron

Ok so theres Sacrificial Couple and then Sam is having bonding time with this chick over Families Sucking

There's the scarecrow! A hunting we will go!

I WAS RIIIIGHT THEY WERE SACRIFICES

But I am going to go out on a limb and guess Sam and this chick are gonna be hunted by this ~pagan god~

[ Crepe asks if this is "best girl Meg". Apparently yes! I don't know what this means aside from she will be returning later. ]

I like this professor dude hes excited to share knowledge

OOP

I KNEW IT. CULT TOWN. OUT TO KILL THEM

OHHH they are going to sacrifice Dean right. OH AND THE NIECE NO

[ Crepe points out that aside from the human sacrifice it could have just been like. A normal festival. Like they could have just been normal about it but nooooo. Can't have that. Have to kill people. ]

Meanwhile Sam is like DEANS NOT ANSWERING NOW IM STRESSED

Sam looking like a kicked puppy bc he is worried about his brother

Poor girl she knew nothing :(

Fucking weirdass cult town

GUYS YES THERE IS YOU GUYS COULD JUST GROW APPLES FUCKING NORMALLY

Dean you're so lucky your brother is paranoid

LMAO "I take back everything I said I'm so happy to see you" god they're so funny

LOCALS. LOCAL NUTJOBS

Oops got u instead bc ur stupid

Ah yes old tree old runes on it

Huh I thought the fighting the scarecrow would be more of a fight

And she's the one getting on the bus now. Hope she gets some therapy and a nice life after that.

Sam is like "I was gone for a day and you almost died. I can't leave you be for 5 minutes"

Ohhh hey its this chick again

WHUH

OH MY GOD SHE JUST? BLOOD?

Serial killer Sam bestie you dodged a bullet I think

UHHH WHATS SHE WANT WITH THEM

"FATHER" WHO ARE YOU

What the fuck

---

Alright so I did like that ep. I think taking normal white rural neighborhoods and making them fucked up is fun. Fascinated by this poor Emily girl, just. Like I hope she moves on? Makes a good life for herself? Like losing your parents, living with your aunt and uncle, loving them and the town, then one day without warning they drag you off to a cellar to sacrifice you to the town god, watch them get murdered by said god... and then you pack up and leave for somewhere else, anywhere else, because what else can you do? Man.

Uhh jury’s still out on favorites. This was a good ep for development and a good Sam ep. Actually how did Dean ever survive w/o Sam around to bail him out lmao.

But just. The way Dean goes on about the greater good, but ultimately its more about what their dad wants them to do. Sam’s often more swayed by his bond with his family, as estranged as he feels from them. But this flip flops, back and forth, Saving people, saving family. Its interesting.

And the plot thickens. Dad Winchester’s on the trail of what killed their mom and Sam’s fridged gf, this Meg chick is? After the bros? And was clearly lying to try and get close to Sam for reasons unclear. Hm.

Anyways I get apple pie now so definitely a win

[jasper-the-menace]

Introduction

Howdy. I'm Jasper, a nonbinary aroace menace, they/them pronouns. I'm an adult.

This is my main blog, so you get a bunch of bullshit, my fandoms, my fanfiction, my interactions with my mutuals, and sometimes stuff on the spicy end. We get weird here.

Before You Follow

I am an adult. If following an adult bothers you, please feel free to block me for your sake.

I engage in fiction to deal with things, or because I want to. I don't care how "pure" it is, we're refusing to give purity culture a platform here. I also write some stuff that leans into being fucked up.

I'm queer as hell and we use microlabels here. I love people with neopronouns.

I'm also a polytheist. And a furry. And an occultist. And also big into scorpion biology. Gods, I know so much stuff about scorpion biology now.

Side Blogs & Social Medias

@jasper-the-menace : my main/personal/shitpost/fandom blog

@jasper-pagan-witch : my witchcraft/pagan blog, feel free to send questions that way

@jasper-tarot-reader : my tarot reading blog (send an ask but respect the guidelines)

@azzie-beastbinder : my MTG roleplay blog following a Bloomburrow rat who lives in Kamigawa

@the-college-of-whispers : my Elder Scrolls pop culture witchcraft blog

@tri-flight : my Flight Rising blog

@jasper-grimoire : a witchcraft side-side blog where I organize notes and posts I want to keep for later

@missouri-witchcraft : a witchcraft side blog for Missouri magic and resources because those are impossible to find

@jasper-graphics : a side blog for creating dividers and similar things! (The divider I use on this post is actually one I made there!)

@jasper-polytheist-wizard : a bad advice/shitpost type of magic blog

@jasper-and-the-forty-servants : my work with the Forty Servants deck-and-servitor-system by Tommie Kelly

@owl-writing : my writeblr blog for original works

@jasper-book-stash : my bookblr blog to read and review whatever the hell I have

@jasper-the-courteous : my evil and less fucked up side blog inspired by an April Fool's Joke in a Discord server

@jasper-explores-selfships : exactly what it says on the tin, let's fucking gooooo

@coding-emoji-spells : oops, another occult blog, but hey, this one's dedicated to emoji spells and other forms of technomagic

@jasper-reblogs-art : a blog that I reblog any art I see to

JasperWritingWitch: my AO3 account (do not follow my AO3 if you’re a minor because I read and write a lot of Mature/Explicit stuff)

JespurrWizard#6396 | jespurrwizard: my Discord, feel free to friend me if you want to talk because Tumblr’s IM/DM system is terrible for my dyslexia

[meggie-stardust]

Gundam Wing - 2020 Rewatch - 15 - 16

What stands out now:

15. To the Battleground, Antartica

Where did Trowa just get a motorcycle from? Is this an old circus trick?

Trowa’s idea of a diversion is: ditch the motorcycle into a lake, then just casually walk away on the tightrope. Like you do.

Trowa’s Apple drop and the gun pull shot is chefs kiss

Noin has to explain that Zech’s is having a not-yet-quarter-life-crisis and he just is really into Mobile suits, the way someone might be into sports cars. 

It’s weird that Alfred can just see that Zechs ordered a ton of Gundanium. Also, I know that his name is not Alfred, but I am going to keep calling him that because Pagan is a dumb name. 

Alfred, panicking: Oops I almost told Relena that Zechs is her brother

Noin: I don’t mind being dragged into things for you Zechs. I’d flip my hair, but you have the long hair in this relationship.

The Treize school of parenting is that you can teach babies to walk by almost letting them die. It was 100% of the time that they don’t fall of a pier instead. 

Heero flirting with Trowa: What if we touched each other’s mobile suits??? HAHAHAHAH Just kidding… Unless…?

How is Alfred intercepting Heero’s mail? Who is this guy? 

How great would a AU Canon divergence be where they crash in Antartica and it becomes The Thing

Noin’s casual competence is so refreshing. She doesn’t need a fancy mobile suit, she can do what she needs to do in the Aries. 

Trowa to the Oz solider on base: I hate everything you stand for, but you’re also an idiot, so I guess I have to do everything myself

How is Heero going to fight Zechs if Trowa just used all of Heavyarms bullets?? Like, I thought this was fandom exaggerating how often Heavyarms runs out of bullets, but it’s really not. 

Good thing that like 20 foot drop didn’t hurt you Trowa

Heero’s like what did I miss?? You didn’t give her our names for no reason did you, Trowa? DID YOU???

16. The Sorrowful Battle

Heero when meeting Zechs: Should we shake hands? Should we kiss on the mouth?

Zechs upon learning he goes by Heero: Cool, you got a code name? Me too.

Zechs so eager to please Heero: Do you like your Gundam. Y/N

I love that Heero and Zech’s relationship is like The Masked Man and Inigo Montoya in this scene. 

What authority does Relena have to ask any questions about Zeches or the Gundam? 

Noin: Oh, shit Zechs you heard me standing her talking to myself about you?

Heero stretching: Hey Trowa, have you seen my guns? They look good don’t they?

Heero: What time is it?; Trowa: 2:30 am Come to bed, we have one last night together—oh wait, wrong paring, sorry fandom YOU DON’T WANT THIS DESPITE THIS LONG ARC OF THEM TOGETHER. 

Gee Zechs, if you didn’t pick the South Pole to fight a battle, maybe you wouldn’t have a problem seeing in the snow

Trowa being the voice of reason after his Circus stunt is rich

Relena: HEEROOOOOO REMEMBER MEEEE. IM HEREEEEEEE

Relena seconds later: OH SHIT I HAVE A BROTHER

Look at that shot, Zechs. LOOK AT THAT. YOU SEXY BEAST. LOOK AT THAT HAIR THOSE BOOTS THOSE LEGS

Zechs: “Glory to all the colonies”; Heero: Did we just become best friends?

That’s some Iron Man/Captain America shit right there, flying with Wing holding Heaveyarms

Episode Ratings/Thoughts:

Even though these episodes are supposed to be primarily about the conflict between Heero and Zechs, Trowa is the real MVP. I love that he gives Heero his Gundam, and I love that when he needs to, he’s like well, Heero owes me, and just jumps right into Wing. He fights with Noin because he’s like someone should know what they’re doing, and then he steps in again at the end to give Heero and Zechs the time they need. I am also just shocked after all the Gundam switching that people don’t ship 1x3 more... Also, I know I’ve said this before, but I want to like Relena. I really do. But she’s the worst. I hated 20 years ago, and I hate her now. 

What I think I remember for the next episode(s):

We finally get to see Heero and Quatre again after a pretty long arc without them. I think we start heading into space again soon? Oh, and I think we get the iconic scene where Zech’s helmet breaks and he returns to Milliardo.

[smallestclowninthecircus]

Season 4 notes

Ep 121: mmmm tape recorder turning on without them knowing goes brrr. AAAhjhdsjfhjdf "do you mind if i call you jon" its like "can i call you elias?" is this the dream guy with the tendrils? who wants to bet the boat is captained by peter lukas? big man if it killed yall how are you still here. oh boy the tape is doin that thing. who do we think it is? did he wake up? hmm. ep 122: lol jon. 6 months!?!? bruh quit movin big man. he just Knows things sometimes you know how it is. nah b/c i can relate to feeling like other ppl/ things arent real, thats the biggest mood BUT i think it is kinda pretentious to entertain the idea that youre the only Real person. If you dont see a body dont believe it. i'll hold out hope for a bit. theres not a new archivist is there? surely i wouldve heard about that. oh god peter what changes did you make. ep 123: web development. hope its about spiders. she blames him. bruh why. if they hadnt done anything the world would've ended piss off melanie. why are ppl acting like he chose to be in a coma for 6 months. we know this they just appear. no longer "head archivist of the magnus institute, london" now he's just "the archivist" covered in spiders? cuz ik the spider has to do with controlling what youre doing and all this stuff but i cant think of how this connects to that. ep 124: ugh vertigo. is michael crew an old man? oooh. fairchild. how did he know it was martin? hmm. GRR I LOST MY NOTES AGAIN. FROM EPISODE 125 - part of 131. ep 131: bruh he's so hard to understand big man ur voice is so low. Jared Hotworth. the boneturner. "the ones i helped find their proper bodies" name a better top surgeon? our favorite trans ally? ep 132: woo field trip into the coffin! static lol. he says "chill out im just poppin in for a quick recall mission" is the rib thing actually gonna work? bruh it feels so odd and contrived but he's an odd man with some odd powers so idk. rip that archivist ayyy statement time. voices? recordings? are those tape recorders? was it the tape recorders? did they pull him back? i hope so b/c if the rib thing actually worked im gonna be so disappointed. ep 133: predicting the lonely? tundra. like the lukases. hmm. sanikova! like sanikov land. so its the hunt? i suppose? yeah. so daisy's clearly rejecting the hunt, which makes sense cuz she doesnt seem to like the entities that much. wait so are we just not gonna talk abt all the tapes playing on the ground?? no? ep 134: not an archival assistant anymore? Adelard Decker (or however you spell it) i recognize that name. 15th power. i was right there are 15. the extinction? im trying to remember what ive heard. oooh spooky. no i gotta be real i dont understand this fear but i'll believe you that its a thing. ew lukas is so squealy. lukas can turn invisible? oh boy. oooh martin put the tape recorders there. lol lukas is worried he's gonna be an avatar of the eye. ep 135: yoo its the third Daedalus statement! maxwell rayner (reiner? reigner?) i dont know who that is but ik its somebody. is he the cult leader guy? church of the divine host? 4 people?? what? did they kidnap somebody and keep them up there?? oh dear jon are you dying? did he try to See or Know or whatever? why does everyone call basira detective lol. ep 136: he was the one from the spider movie that ate ppl right? the special effects artist? is it annabelle cane? "its a joke jon" lol. hmm they wanted to record the therapy session with melanie? i wonder who that is. i almost wanna guess annabelle cane but im not sure. ep 137: this is the one! he went to the other place and read the war statement but it wasnt the one she took. not the music again. sounds like the slaughter. who the heck is eric lol. "the watcher's crown" like the crown of eyes we saw in the piccrew ep 138: oh boy Robert Smirk time. is that elias? as unhelpful as usual. if new powers can be "born" can others die out? did jonah magnus wear the watchers crown? maybe they were born from our fear or maybe our fears were born from them. ceaseless watcher does ceaselessly watch so. idk what you want

big man. yeah jonah for sure did something. ep 139: agnes!! lol that one dude threw off all their plans thats so funny. BUT this does tell us something. the tree in the backyard of the hilltop house? not made by her. it going down didnt kill agnes. im guessing gertrude tied agnes to the house using the tree? u good jon? cuz every time you try to Know smth intentionally it seems like it causes you great pain. how come he can do it accidentally with no problem but the second he wants to know smth of plot relevance he gets a headache or whatever ep 140: lol pagan exultation. classic. "oh thats my rib" lmaoo. ppl are always so mad at jon and his Eye powers except when it benefits them. they're like "oh you shouldnt do that its not right" and then all of a sudden they want to know something and its all "oh cmon jon its the only way" ep 142: oh god jon what did you do. its interesting she's giving her statement in the way that they do when jon Asks. did he see her in the Coffin? and so he's following her? ok cmon jon you're supposed to let them come to you. lmao ikr martin. "start to hear the blood" "suure." lmao ep 143: lol that awkward moment when gertrude is already dead. big J if you die im gonna kill you. bruh. ayo helen? i guess it worked? ep 144: lol this reminds me of that one edgar allan poe story where he kills the old dude with the weird eye. spooky music stuff. lol thats my favorite symptom of a heart attack its hilarious. so its smth abt the location probably? bro i feel like you should write down the numbers idk. 162830165049 564846474827. seems like the distortion? like the kinda thing that causes you to go crazy because of the numbers. oh boy is it the extinction again. bro what?? im?? his dad just died and he's like eh. martin dont be mean. he's being all lonely again. big man ur pushing ppl away. oh god its fucking squealy boy. ep 145: that almost sounds like breekon/hope... Arthur? agnes. aah was he from the lightless flame cult. a tree. lol he's just ranting rn. hehehe fuck landlords amirite. yay someone tells jon outright to go to therapy. now do it big man. ep 146: oh great! the distortion! i'm making a spiral themed building in mc right now! jon maybe accept you did a bad? nah this goes back to what i said before. they're fine with him compelling ppl when its convenient for them but otherwise its "no jon you cant, youre a monster jon" the tapes didnt turn on. i spose that means its not important? i agree with daisy, this seems unecessarily dangerous. ep 147: is that a tape? the first tape? well that went better than i expected tbh. BAHAKJASHDJKF she did the "can i call you jon" like nikola says "elias, can i call you elias?" damn annabelle is such a girlboss. oh! the one thing from the picrew. its been a while since ive connected smth to that. lol all the other avatars always talk abt their patron so lovingly and the jon just. absolutely hates the eye. ep 148: lol thats the most elias thing. "i just like the way it sounds" ep 149: did he disappear? bruhh. ur lonely powers are popping off i guess. oops i accidentally deleted my notes for 150 - 152 ep 153: thats the cult right? yeah. it doesnt sound like the church of the divine host? idk. if it is the church of the divine host then they worship the dark right? so is the eleventh the dark star or wtvr? it almost sounds like the corruption b/c of the oil or grease or whatever. oh dear what happened. oh its the hunters. theyre so annyoing. not an "it" he has a name. he's a person. is this a page from the skin book? ep 154: oh shit this is gerry's dad! oh shit he quit! oh dear god. jon don't you do it. haha martin. yeahhhh... is he gonna tell the others? cuz you know theyre gonna get mad if he doesnt. oh also picrew connection! the bandages over the eyes? yeah thats this im guessing. ep 155: oh good he told them. oh my god what did you do. lol i have no mouth and i must scream. nah you get none of my sympathy you're straight up murdering ppl. its like the desolation, destroying lives to sustain your own. ok but taking their statements doesnt

kill them. oh... bye melanie. ep 156: lmao imagine if the tape recorder spoke back. oh boy decker! i swear we got a statement from him already. oh god mirrors scary. They're gonna eat the body arent they. Yup... sounds like the flesh or the slaughter, but I'm not sure. Could be the extinction for sure. Smth at the center! Like Helen mentioned. God Peter you dick. Ep 157: peter's just so :/ another decker statement i see. a statement about the corruption? hmm. maybe its not abt the corruption. the extinction. lol pandemics. topical. John Amherst. helen? lol i can hear admiral purring in the background. oh cmon helen dont be like that. im trying real hard to like you but you make it so difficult. ep 158: did they fucking free the stranger? im gonna lose it. you absolute dumbass. im sorry who is that? jonah magnus? my guy. peter. you absolute dickhead. that's elias. (im p sure i had this spoiled for me that elias is jonah) oh dear this is her death. god peter you prick. i hope this is a pop off martin moment and not a "martin you idiot" moment. i hope the hunters kill the stranger entity. or she kills them. furry daisy pop off! yeah fuck you peter martin can make his own decisions. you know that clip from Twisted where jafar says "ok what the fuck was that" martin D: ok like i know its gonna work but still D: D: ep 159: peter you bitchboy. because if im alone i cant hurt anyone else. imnotgonnacryimnotgonnacryimnotgonnacry do it do it do it do it. pop off jon. ok its a pretty good idea for a ritual i gotta be honest. she didnt even have to blow it up lol. oh dear that was certainly a noise. "he gets you" did he not have jon already? he's back! our boy is back! awwww thats so cute. ep 160: oh right this is the thing in the safe house. i love him. "obviously im going to tell you if i see any good cows" martin my beloved <3 :)) oh boy who is this. fuckin. people. jonah you dick. gahh. you can tell he's trying to resist so hard lol. ohh. hehe keep an *eye* on him. altho if the extinction is a real thing he needs to be marked by that right? lol he sounds so intense im sorry- i want martin to just burst in and be like "look at this cow i saw!" its so dramatic and for why.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: I always think of you as Kristin Scott Thomas’ character Fiona in Four Weddings and a Funeral as a beautiful woman who is scarily clever and classy. So with my upcoming wedding (next year!) and especially wedding music I thought of you. I really would appreciate your advice on Mendelssohn or Wagner as they seem to be the traditional choices of music to play at a traditional church wedding. My fiancé isn’t bothered what music we play but I can’t decide. Please do help as I value your unvarnished truth.

Thank you for the flattering words which while well intentioned are nevertheless entirely misplaced.

Swiftly moving on, a sincere congratulations on your forthcoming wedding. I can only imagine how stressful it must be running around like a headless chicken trying to desperately organise everything. And desperate you certainly must be - perhaps even certifiably insane -  if you’re turning to me on Tumblr for advice!

I’m not married....yet ( oops! better get that caveat in before I am chastised by those who really know me)  but I am a wedding veteran - some would even say, a jaded one (thank you, mummy).

Every season there is a string of wedding invitations that I can’t turn down and I feel obligated to attend. While great fun, one wedding starts to blur into another especially when the champagne starts to copiously flow. I have my own thoughts on the good, the bad, and the tacky about wedding etiquette but I don’t want to disappear down that rabbit hole. Instead let’s talk about Mendelssohn and Wagner.

Both music pieces have traditionally struck a chord (pardon the pun) and have become a staple of traditional weddings since time immemorial.

Mendelssohn's ‘Wedding March’ was originally composed in 1842. He got there first.

Wagner's ‘Bridal Chorus’ came later in 1848. The ‘Bridal Chorus’ became a popularised piece to play at weddings around Europe after it was most memorably used as the processional at the wedding of Victoria, the Princess Royal to Prince Frederick William of Prussia in 1858. Nowadays - certainly in Britain and the US -  it is generally known as "Here Comes the Bride”.

I suppose the straight forward answer is that it doesn’t have to be Wagner vs. Mendelssohn. Why not both?  Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ can be used for the entrance processional of the bride walking down the aisle and the Mendelssohn ‘Wedding March’ for the recessional walk out of the church.

But you did say you wanted my ‘unvarnished truth’ so allow me the small luxury of an arm chair rant from the Coronavirus self-isolation of my Paris apartment. 

Of the two I would definitely ditch the Wagner piece. Please don’t misunderstood me. I am a huge fan of Wagner’s music - like any true Wagnerian I have taken more than one pilgrimage to Beyreuth - but in this case playing Wagner’s music would show a frightful ignorance of the meaning behind the ‘Bridal Chorus’ piece.  

I don’t know why more people haven’t picked up on this but I’ve always found it a terribly odd piece to play at a wedding especially as it originates from Wagner’s masterful opera, Lohengrin.

Wagner came upon the opera's inspiration around 1845 when he took interest in the legend of the Holy Grail through the poems of Wolfram von Eschenbach and the anonymous epic of Lohengrin. Composed by 1848, Lohengrin features "Bridal Chorus" as the prelude to a very short-lived, doomed marriage between Elsa and Lohengrin.

The famous ‘Bridal Chorus’ is lustily sung by women of the bridal party serenading Elsa to the bridal suite after the wedding in Act III. Elsa is not allowed to know her true knight’s true name and identity. But this is a romantic German opera and so of course Lohengrin is found out with dire consequences for all.  A sad Lohengrin ends up revealing that  he is in fact a knight of the Grail and son of King Parsifal, sent to protect an unjustly accused woman. The laws of the Holy Grail say that Knights of the Grail must remain anonymous. If their identity is revealed, they must return home. Lohengrin is lead back to the castle of the Holy Grail. Elsa is grief stricken at being left behind.  Poor Elsa (naturally) collapses and dies with a broken heart.

Charming.

To say it’s not the happiest of allusions of looking forward to a long life of wedded bliss would be an understatement.

However my objections against Wagner’s ‘Bridal Chorus’ goes beyond this. For one thing I find it rather too sombre - Oh dear God! Is marriage really like this?!

My main ire is that it overly used and therefore boring to listen to. And when one is bored the mind wanders.

In my case, without sounding malicious, my mind just drifts to whispering mischievous lyrics under my breath that go like, “here comes the bride, big fat and wide, here comes the groom, skinny as a broom.” Try as I might I can never get those words out of my silly mind whenever I hear the organ music playing “Here come’s the bride.” Not my finest hour.

Now Mendelssohn’s ‘Wedding March’ is different beast entirely. Beast being the operative word as we are dealing with Pagan deities.

Typically used in church wedding recessionals, the ‘Wedding March’ piece has sparked controversy due to its literary origins. The Prussian monarch Friedrich Wilhelm IV commissioned Mendelssohn to compose incidental music for many pieces that were based upon Greek mythology and tragedy in order to revive the genre of literature and performance. Among his commissions, in 1843 Mendelssohn composed a setting for William Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream; the setting comprises twelve musical numbers and a finale. The plot of Shakespeare's play focuses on a pagan god and goddess and is filled with fairies, magic, and fantasy. Due to the piece's pagan, fantastic inspirations, some puritanical leaders and musicians - particularly in Roman Catholic churches - have found the piece to be inappropriate for a Christian religious ceremony. In its defence at least Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night's Dream was a comedy with a happy ending.

If you’re feeling traditional rather than puritanical then the joyous Mendelssohn ‘Wedding March’ might still be a great option either as a processional or recessional.

If you’re looking for options outside of either Wagner and Mendelssohn then it’s really a matter of exercising good taste alongside what suits the personal tone of your wedding.

Off the top of my head I keep coming back to Johann Sebastian Bach.

Bach’s many cantatas and fugues seem to tick all the boxes. In particular there is Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring (derived from the cantata Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, "Heart and Mouth and Deed and Life”). There is also the Toccata and Fugue in D minor ‘Dorian’ BWV 538 and the Toccata and Fugue in F Major, BWV 540.  Arioso in A flat for solo piano from Cantata No. 156 "Ich steh`mit einem Fuss im Grabe is softly elegant. A particular favourite piece of mine is Weichet nur, betrübte Schatten, BWV 202, the ‘Wedding Cantata’. Of course many would point out that Bach’s Ave Maria would be perfect for a processional but I would think twice about that. As beautiful as the piece is it is about the Virgin Mary after all and you may invite unwanted speculation from your guests if you are (cough) chaste.

Trumpet Tune in D by Jeremiah Clarke is a little more festive. Or consider his more famous Trumpet Voluntary ‘The Prince of Denmark's March’.

Charles-Marie Widor  was a fine composer and his Toccata (from Symphony for Organ No. 5) is spiritually intense for traditional organ music.

Eugène Gigout's famous Grand Chœur Dialogué might appeal to you as well.

G.F. Handel’s Water Music Suite - Air has a graceful and calming tone. The Arrival of The Queen of Sheba (Solomon) HWV 67 is upbeat and was made for a processional.

Beethoven’s Für Elise is perfect to calm last minute panic attacks before you go up the aisle.

And how can one forget Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?

The Serenade No. 13 for strings in G major, K. 525 or more commonly known as Eine kleine Nachtmusik KV. 525 - II. Romanze: Andante is a beautiful melody familiar to many and sets a soothing tone. Ave verum corpus, K.618 is profoundly spiritual and lifts your hearts up to the angels. ‘Alleluia’ from ‘Exsultate, jubilate’ is wonderful if you can get your hands on a competent soprano. If you are feeling more adventurous then the Spanish Wedding March from The Marriage of Figaro which might be to your taste. 

Elgar’s Salut d'Amour, Op. 12 is soft, inviting and makes one feel you’re in some 19th Century romance novel set at court.

Elgar finished the piece in July 1888, when he was romantically involved with Caroline Alice Roberts, and he called it Liebesgruss ('Love's Greeting') because of Miss Roberts' fluency in German. When he returned home to London on 22 September from a holiday at the house of his friend Dr. Charles Buck, in Settle, he presented it to her as an engagement present. The dedication was in French: à Carice. 'Carice' was a combination of his wife's names Caroline Alice, and was the name to be given to their daughter born two years later.

Edvard Grieg’s Wedding Day at Troldhauen, Op. 65, no. 6 is magnificently playful.

Jean-Joseph Mouret’s Rondeau from Sinfonie de Fanfares is a beautiful Baroque piece. What’s a wedding without trumpets that could be heard all the way into the heavens?

Gluck’s Dance of the Blessed Spirits from his Orfeo et Euridice can be an elegant choice to do a recessional. Perfect for sensitive souls.

Gabriel Fauré’s Pavane, Op. 50 is sublime. I can never get tired of listening to it. Would make a worthy piece as a processional.

I would also throw into the mix Gaetano Donizetti’s ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ (A furtive tear) is the romanza from Act II of his delightful opera L'elisir d'amore.

It is sung by Nemorino (a tenor) when it appears that the love potion he bought to win the heart of his dream lady, Adina, works. Nemorino is in love with Adina, but she is not interested in a relationship with an innocent, rustic man. To win her heart, Nemorino buys a love potion with all the money he has in his pocket. That love potion is actually a cheap red wine sold by a traveling quack doctor, but when he sees Adina weeping, he knows that she has fallen in love with him, and he is sure that the "elixir" has worked. It may not fit your idea of a processional but I would try and use it some where in your wedding - perhaps at the reception.

I feel guilty about trashing on Wagner and Mendelssohn so I will leave you with two final thoughts. Reconsider Wagner’s opera Lohengrin. Forget the Bridal Chorus but instead listen to the chorus ‘Gesegnet soll sie schreiten’ in Act II. The various horns give this chorus a dreamlike quality and you feel like you are floating on air. Mendelssohn’s On Wings of Song is a powerful and poignant piano piece and quite suitable to play as your guests away your arrival in church.

I am sure there are other great classical music pieces that I have neglected to mention but others reading this might give their thoughts in the comments below.

If knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit, then wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad. So give careful and considered thought to what music you throw together into the mix as your church wedding processional and recessional.

Congratulations again and I hope it’s a special day for both of you and your families and friends.

Thanks for your question.

[princessclai]

don't arrest me cia fbi

i can poop still although there may be a bomb in my butthole, anus, anal canal

insane clown posse bitch unfortunately

since 11 yo one song

one song in 3000 tracks on ipod shuffle srsly supernatural and true blood are real schizophrenia is manmade too potentially but the supernatural is also real

they will chain me to the back of a truck and drive me through gravel for gravel burn BDSM basically but maybe im insane bc i can still poop

was too ugly to aryanaryan nazi Henryville terrorists only a few but still snitches get stitches and i dont want u to blow up

sixth grade mrs. turner is nazi but still coincidence on ipod im not 💯 insane only insane sometimes but all a's my emtire lofe except her cllass and she drew caricature of me also 8th grade art doesn't count hard teacher strixt but mice and not a bully

sry for typos idiots shrunk my keyboard

honeyi shrunk the adult children lol me unfortunately and mot the idiots my age and older mrs turner bully me all year as 11yo and she was an old lady srsly she wouldnt let me skip a grade and said mothinng special about me but i won student of the month many times in mifdle ahchool and high school and have had all a's since first grade bc i don't remember kindergarten and pre-k too much rape and doctor terrorism in foster care psych hospitalfor suicide as 4 yo and also cousins rapists through marriage teenage boys me 4yo 5yo

pedophile child molesting child raping American government terrorism including healthcare foster care psych and hospitals

oops i did it again with e.coli eyes morons shit hazel eyes brownandgreenandtan dependa on the light moron blue eyes stealing my identity hazel mine never turn blue but do have one tiny light blue circle maybe grey eho knows

irises within irises and snake skin and asymmetrical flower petals morons

still im not a pagan but ily Einstein and Stephen hawking

fuck u aryanaryan except the cvildren aren't raciat

kill my friends who are strangers again bishes im insane clown posse now lol

jk haha im britney spears queen of england annd steal taylor swift lyrics for attention bc im an airhead popstar music star and not 4.0 harvard unc baby dream since first grade idiots

but u write taylor swift o am a snitch and a snake eye design and the hammer wasnt mine but wasn't his too was it yours taylor

i mean the co hammer when i was in hell not pappy's hammer from hitler police fuckers

good thing im innocent still bc it happened to britney and taylor swift too idiots but im dying sooner than them and they're both older even decades bc im snitch bitch witch 4.0 pediatric surgeon dreamer idiots

alao jewish sand niggers don't exist so yhanks for the new slang from street trash im albinism sand nigger too losers anemic

i hope the brews get u bc u keep escapinh evil shits and i dont mean e.colo eyes aka hitler cyanide but where is his bidy and why is he poop eyes when aryanaryan best to hitleraryan morons mormons LDS LSD

[seraphstudying]

introduction of a baby studyblr! ⁎⁺˳✧༚

hello! my name is pluto! this is my 2nd studyblr ive made (haha) and im planning to stick to it (maybe), but! i want to do an introduction post just so yall can get to know me, all 0 of you

- yes, my name is pluto

- i have been doing calligraphy for 4 years now

- im a straight a (maybe a b here and there) student

- total suck up oops

- i really like succulents but i just. cANt take care of them one time i killed an air plant im horrible

- im really into k-fashion and skincare!

- i suffer from anorexia nervosa and have for the past 4-5 years

- i am a witch and hellenic pagan of nearly a year now!

- im an enfp-t (we’re the best!)

- a libra sun, virgo moon, cancer rising

- i absolutely despise folders

- the classes im taking this year are algebra, science, american history, english, spanish (might change to chinese), and symphony band

- my favorite animal is a crow and i plan to get a african pied crow as a pet after college

- i want to live in japan for part of my life

- the languages i want to learn in my lifetime are: japanese, icelandic, swedish, dutch, vietnamese, korean, greek, and latin

- i learn languages FAST

- i have dermatillomania

- my fav candy is zotz

- i really like crywank, nicole dollanganger, lo fi hip hop (b4 it was cool), blackbear, and maria mena

- i am a devotee to artemis and am interested in apollo as well

- im from a formerly small town in michigan

- i have a step brother and a step sister, but i consider myself an only child because i never see them

- thats all i can think of!

this was a very rambly introduction, but i hope at least one person reads it ig! ill tag some of my fav studyblrs too!!

@studydiaryofamedstudent @studyign @studyquill @tbhstudying @plutostvdies @studyskylar @emmastudies @elkstudies @studyblr !!

[killyourrdarlingss]

THIS DLC HAD ME IN A CHOKEHOLD UNTIL THE VERY END AND IM FUCKIN SHAAAKING OVER EVERYTHING.

I'm gonna finish far cry 4, then replay it again probably but also I am NOT READY FOR THE NEXT DLC 😭

**SPOILERS BELOW**

I have so many thoughts I have theories , I am.losing it I think everything Pagan did *was* for himself I know he might have loved Ishiwari but not *really* I think Pagan loved the idea of taking everything from Mohan, when they had Lakshmana I know he loved her but it's still stands he got ro have a daughter and take that from *Mohan*.

I'm so glad Yuma took it upon herself to make him realize that by TELLING Mohan, as horrible as it is? Pagan needed a reality check and it STILL DIDNT BOTHER HIM ENOUGH TO LIKE STOP WHAT HE WAS DOING. Lakshmana died because of Pagan not helping Ishwari, his *radio tower confessions* to ME, are true, I genuinely think he felt that way and was just onto the next fixation he could distract himself with.

Pagans just.... he's. He's doing this all for himself in the end I think but trying to repair things he can't when he realizes "oops I actually should have appreciated my family more!",

But, he can't fix what he did, even hiding behind a mask won't help him... since Lakshmana tells him "thanks for trying" ;^(

WHICH HURTS SO MUCH 😭

Also diving into like, Pagan's bisexuality is, yes okay it's "fork spotted in kitchen" but it's also a major fucking part.

Anyway I think he just, truly is doing *everything* he wants now because realizing killing his dad after so many years was so freeing for him and good for him. He just... he's allowed to be free, do what he wants.

Also like Troy Baker said "Pagan isn't a villain" AND HE'S RIGHT,,,

I also think Pagan helping Yuma, is so major. She was like his sister, he did for her what he did for himself. He freed her from the people who hurt her, he HELPED HER SAVE HER FAMILY AND NOT HIS OWN.

And she betrayed him in the end to show him to appreciate his, and he didn't care.

Anyway I should stop rambling but I have so many thoughts and I haven't even gotten to the nukes part but... he really did that.

My takeaway from this? Let Pagan do whatever he wants, GO OFF KING I love u 😩💕

[kiwismoon]

Acid green, lemon

i’m GONNA FUCKING CRY RLLY WAIT RLLY

ACID GREEN: MUTUTALS THAT LIKES SO MANY INTERESTING/UNIQUETHINGS, KEEP TALKING PLS

I  AN TALK FOREVER OMG OMG OMG WHAT THINGS DO U WANT ME TO TALK ABNOUT?? WITCHCRANFT???? HARY STYYESL??? TARYLOR SWIRFT????TOM HOLLAND/SPIDERMAN???ACTIVISM????VEGANISM????BUDDDHIMS?SSMD????? SEXUALITY FLUIDITY/GENDER FLUIDITY AND WHY PEOPLE NEED TO MIND THEIR OWN FUCKING BUSISNESS?? HARRY STYLES//??? PAGANISM??? NEO-PAGANISM???? HELLENISTIC NEO-PAGANISMS??? THE ENTITY THATS IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOW??? MY DOG?????????? HOW A HORRIBLE SHOW FIVTORIOUS IS AND WHY TORTIO IS THE WORD CHARACTER EVER

Lemon: so cool they are almost intiimgindating,

IJSDFOJLSADFJ AND IM SD SOO OOP,S,,, DIDN’T MEANT O BEA INTISD

[javisjeanjacket]

Hello and congratulations! Can I have a ship? Idc if it’s a Pedro or Oscar character, I love them both! I also tend to ramble so this might be in two parts oops! Ok, so I have a small addition to dying my hair, and I have a few piercings and tattoos, but they’re small. I’m in a band, and I play drums and a bit of guitar. I’m studying to be a journalist right now, which I think is very exciting. I seem like a total bitch but I swear to god I’m super sweet! (1) 🪐(just so I know it’s mine lol)

(2) I’m super impulsive, and very loyal to my friends. My love language is physical touch so I’m constantly holding people’s hands and stuff like that. I love exploring, reading, going to museums, and unsolved crimes. I also really love plants! I’m pagan, and I really love tarot, and I love to do readings for my close friends and stuff. Alll in all, I seem v bitchy but im really just a soft gal looking for some cuddles lol 🪐

Hi anon!! You actually seem super cool and I kind of want to be your friend?!! (I was a journalism major and physical touch is my love language too!!)

I couldn't decide so I gave you a few! Lol

Oberyn Martell

You seem like a very creative and thoughtful person, and I feel like you and Oberyn would really vibe! He seems open to most things and I think he would really enjoy having your open-minded, soft, energy around! Also you know this man would be MORE THAN happy to fulfill that need for physical touch 👀

Llewyn Davis

Okay, you wanna talk about soft and snuggly?? LOOK NO FURTHER. Llewyn would be perfect for you because he, too, is creative, loyal, and in need of cuddles! Lol I feel like your energy would help to soothe his weary heart and help him find some much needed rest.

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia

Now, while Santi isn't the most creative or soft person, that may be exactly what you need in your life! Santiago would be there to balance and center you, giving you a safe place to land when things get too overwhelming. I have a sneaking suspicion that this man is good with his hands, so I'm sure that need for touch would be more than met with him in your corner!

Thank you!!

Hai Hits 300 Followers!

[irmacornelia]

AU idea- like Actual Witch AU where they are Actual Modern Witches in college and meet or whatever.

Hay Lin is a powerful seer and was taught by her grandmother and nosed her childhood friend/qpp/platonic soul bro Irma along for the ride, Irma turned a guy into a frog so like Hexes? Curses? Banishing? Sigils? Yea.

Cornelia got plants and faceplanted herself into witchcraft via the internet new age pagan forum stuff in the last year of high school and instead of oh ‘grow some sage and cleanse your home :)’ she like tapped into Overt Magic and the plants took over and she Freaked Out and Hay Lin came over and was like ‘Heyyyy I had a vision about this and also another one with you were we all almost die so I came over and broke into ur house oops and also ur a witch. Like an actual witch. I am too. Also my bff Irma who drove me here. Wanna learn magic and be friends?’ This is the start of a very bizarre friendship that is Irma and Cornelia hateflirting with each other and Hay Lin dragging books on magic over and them having Wacky Magic Adventures.

Then they all go to the local college and Will and Taranee transferred in there and Hay Lin is like ‘GUYSSS my first vision had those cute people in it with us we need them lets gently break the magic news to them and also be friends’ -said first vision was them all almost dying fighting the Fair Folk(Phobos and co) or something IDK???

So Will got into the college Somehow and is a very stressed mentally ill genderqueer mess and way too dependent on their rescued dormouse that is weirdly tame that they brought with them into the dorms because fuck the rules fuck gender I do what I want. Taranee is their roommate and its adorable. Then Will accidentally summons and binds a spirit to a toaster. Taranee freaks out at the possessed machine and accidentally pings every witch in the vicinity. Which is just ICH and they come running. Cue exposition. (Will is a necromancer with some gift with crystals)

Taranee came to the college because she liked the dance program and also the stem fields were Good so she applied and traveled from 3 states over. She has severe anxiety and being this far from home wasnt the greatest idea but hey shes here now and theres a Really Cute Person whos nice and also has several pride flags on their laptop as her dormmate so things seem to be ok. 

Then the accidental necromancy thing happens and Oh No Magic and Ghosts Are Real. Taranee gets astral projection, clairvoyance, and (regrettably)spirit work/medium powers.

Endgame ships- Irma/Cornelia/Elyon, Irma/Hay lin(qpp), Will/Taranee/Hay Lin

Elyon is a changeling child and Phobos and co are The Fair Folk. Things get Messy as all things that poke at the Gentlemen Of The Wood tend to be.

Orube is like a shapeshifter witch who turns into a cat and shows up later. Cedric is like half fey or something.

The foster cat that the veterinary class Will is in was taking care of is Napoleon who becomes Cornelia’s familiar. Its all very cliche.

Lots of casual witchcraft and queer stuffs aka things I can infodump on with a vague plot and mostly just an excuse to explore Will’s ‘give sentience to objects’ power and make ‘Im so nervous im going to astral project into another dimension to escape this project’ jokes.

[mermaidsirennikita]

oh my god???? while Im devastated they got split up Im glad Kenna isnt dead and i hope she's living it up with that prince and just running free. Im not as sad about Lola?? but yikes at the beheading. is Greer happy at least with Mary?? also what happened to bash? also how is Catherine and King Not Francis. thanks for this Im too weak to look up these episodes

Bash stayed loyal to Mary as a friend after Francis died (they hinted that his Feelings returned but nothing ever happened and she didn’t seem to reciprocate).  He went with her to Scotland after he found out Catherine killed his mom (lmao) and helped her take her throne back from John Barrowman (honestly forget who he played) but then he became a druid or something???  He was like “pagans, THE WOODS, Mary I’ve found my true calling I’m home now”.  He vagued about being there when she most needed him and sent David Rizzio to Mary to be her buddy in s4 (and Rizzio literally said that some dude with eyes like sea glass sent him and Mary was like “omg it was Bash” lol) but that didn’t work out well.

Greer is happy-ish with Mary?  She and Lord Castleroy are officially done.  She banged a pirate in season 3 while Castleroy was away and they were basically separated, it was just a one nighter but she got pregnant and he was off on the seven seas or something.  Greer was going to give the baby to her sister but decided against it at the last minute because her sister was kind of an awful person.  Castleroy came back and forgave her since they were again pretty much separated when she slept with the pirate and he volunteered to be the baby’s official dad and raise it with Greer.  So Greer had a daughter, Rose, but the pirate captain wasn’t white so Rose clearly isn’t white either, and therefore she and Castleroy say that the baby is foundling that they adopted.  Castleroy didn’t immediately follow Greer to Scotland when she went to live at Mary’s court, and she revealed that the marriage wasn’t super great.  When he did come back he revealed that he’d fallen in love with a servant or something and wanted to be free to be happy with her and Greer was like “to be fair you’ve put up with a lot of my shit so cool”.  He’s still Rose’s adoptive dad but he and Greer are over.  Then bio-pirate-dad came back into the picture and Greer is letting him be in Rose’s life in a cool uncle kind of way.  But also Greer fell in love with James, Mary’s brother, and he reciprocated but before they could really act on their feelings he took the fall for this trap John Knox had set to make Mary look bad (or did Darnley set it not sure) so Mary had to exile him from Scotland.  Greer is still in contact with him it seems but they’re not together.

Catherine is basically dealing with Not Francis, aka King Charles, being a massive fuckup???  Like first he was this traumatized weakling and the French commoners literally pulled a Carrie and threw pig’s blood on him when he was giving a speech once?  So he ran into the woods.  He spent a lot of time in the woods, truly Bash’s brother right there, and was a total wreck.  Then he met this common girl named Nicole who was like Kenna but with better goals and she became his mistress and was like “lol be a Protestant” and he was like “lol sure”.  Then his sister Leesa who’s the queen of Spain and hella Catholic sent for their brother/Charles’s heir Henri to show up, and Henri’s more Francis-esque but obviously not as cool.  He’s super Catholic and much stronger than Charles or was until Catherine USED VOODOO OR SOME SHIT TO MAKE CHARLES STRONGER and of course he became a psycho.  Henri seduced Nicole to undermine Charles bc it’s a brother vs. brother thing, and then Nicole found out that Henri likes to wear ladies’ clothes and jewels on occasion and they bonded over that and she was down for all his fetishes and they realized that oops they’re actually in love or something.  So now Henri has spirited away from France with Nicole and Charles thinks she wasn’t willing so he’s flipping out an Catherine is basically trying to desperately maneuver a way out of this that doesn’t end with one or both of her sons dead even tho that’s pretty much impossible.  Most of Catherine’s plot this season has been about the boys and she also is, as previously mentioned, banging Narcisse again (this is part of the reason why Nicole ended up boning Henri, bc she was previously obsessed with Narcisse but then she and Henri accidentally watched Narcisse and Catherine fuck it was great) but she did visit Mary for her wedding to Darnley which was cute but sad.

[poison-deathwish]

every time i say that ive never watched spongebob people freak out. like,,,, im sorry my mexican catholic-raised christian mother thought it was for satan to get into our heads and to stray us farther from god ???