lostinthewildwest

[lostinthewildwest]

Oh hi guys.

How's Tumblr doing?

[lostinthewildwest]

Hello, I'm back (briefly) to let you all know that I'm alive and still VERY interested in the threads we have discussed!

I will be out of town next week for my friends funeral (22nd to the 24th) and will need some down time when I return but I will be here to love on all of you within the next two weeks.

[lostinthewildwest]

Hey guys, I'm going to be taking a short break from writing. A close friend of mine tragically passed away on Saturday and I need to take time to process and grieve. I'll be back as soon as I can but you can always dm me!

Thanks for understanding.

[lostinthewildwest]

Plotting call! Be sure to specify muse!

[lostinthewildwest]

@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins

[lostinthewildwest]

all the food in the world won’t help us if we’re going to freeze to death. ( Sean @ Grace )

Cold weather had never suited Grace Taylor. She'd been born in France but she'd lived in the swamps of Saint Denis most of her life, she was accustomed to muggy heat and rain, not feet of snow and freezing temperatures. They'd been in this hellscape for weeks now and things were not getting any warmer. Even taking to sleeping next to Sean at night had stopped helping keep her warm but it was better than sleeping alone with the hole-filled blankets. Pearson was loud tonight, complaining about a lack of food for him to cook, voicing concerns about people starving to death before the snow let up enough for someone to hunt. Grace was already settling in with Sean, a bottle of whiskey shed picked up from an abandoned cabin gripped loosely between her fingers. "I agree." Grace said as she popped the top off of the whiskey and handed it over to Sean. "So if we must freeze to death, lets do it drunk and happy."

[lostinthewildwest]

Andrew had put her through training before she'd been cleared to be working in real life scenarios but she couldn't remember if they had covered something as dire as this. She'd fought, that much was clear by how torn and dirty her clothes were, but to what end? Not the end she thought was coming. She'd found herself drastically underpowered compared to the man she'd been facing down. Her assignment had never been to be physically involved in any of the gangs activities, only to gather information. Grace was easily accepted based on looks alone. Petite and quiet, small even when she was not trying to be, people thought her fragile, especially men. Andrew knew better, though. They'd been married for the last year, she'd been in the camp for six months, and this was the first time she'd been frightened to her very core. Andrew had always kept her safe, there had always been someone nearby to monitor her in case of these situations, but they'd failed her this time. "I rode Tuesday." She whispered. Her hand accepted the handkerchief but she didn't even know where to start, she simply held it. "I was not followed and they've no idea where I am." When she received word from Andrew that they were to meet, Grace had been vigilant about telling the Gang she had a job, one that paid, and they'd never distrusted it. She figured it was because she always came back with something of value to the camp. They'd no idea what she was really doing. "I want to come home, Andrew." Grace looked up to him. "I'm frightened."

( A.gent M.ilton ; continued )

        Andrew has been speaking with another agent when Grace walked up to his door. He didn't realize how silent it was outside his office, no tapping of fingers against the keys of a typewriter, no mindless chatter and laughs, a passing greeting, a knock on a door, footsteps. It was dead quiet when Grace walked through. His agent was in the middle of a passionate discovery (something he thought would gain him a promotion at the year's end) until he closed his mouth, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He retrieved his hat and mumbled an "excuse me" right as he exited the room.

        Andrew stood still before he quickly sprung into action, a hand gripped her shoulder as he moved her into the room. He pulled out a chair and sat her down, he stood beside her as his hand hovered above her shoulder.

        He had utilized female detectives in the past, they were taught basic self defense skills, and carried some form of weaponry on them. But if violence was to occur, a Pinkerton agent in disguise was going to be nearby. For Dutch's case, he figured Grace would worm her way in easily, win his heart and loyalty would be set. Surely Dutch wouldn't lay a hand on her, nor allow anyone else to. She wasn't to participate in any robberies. If she did, well, then that would be another matter. But he didn't want her to engage in any criminal behavior, it would be a judicial case waiting to happen.

        This wasn't supposed to happen. The state of her, walking all the way to his office. How many people saw her? No policeman came for help?

        ❝ How did you get here, Grace? ❞ He asked firmly, his voice measured. His hand went to his pocket and he pulled out a handkerchief, offering it to her. In her state of shock, he limited any touch towards her. Who's blood was this? Hers, or someone else's?

@lostinthewildwest

[lostinthewildwest]

REASONS TO CARRY SOMEONE. ( A PROMPT LIST! )

listen, i'm back home now, i'm thinking about things, and i saw the maxton hall gifset floating around and i was like. yk what. carrying people is elite content, and gdi y'all deserve elite content! as always, DO NOT ADD OR EDIT THIS LIST! and there's a lil spicy addition under the readmore, but i left it there just in case people prefer to have a not-so-spicy version.

[ SLUMBER ]: sender picks up and carries the receiver because they're so sound asleep that they won't easily wake up.

[ INTERCEPT ]: sender picks up and carries the receiver out of the room because they're angry and on the brink of engaging in a fight with someone.

[ ASSIST ]: sender picks up and carries the receiver away for medical attention because they've been injured and can't walk easily.

[ HELP ]: sender picks up and carries the badly wounded receiver as fast as possible to the nearest hospital or the nearest place to administer urgent first-aid.

[ ELATION ]: sender scoops up the receiver and carries them away after a mutual victory, or having just received very good news (or maybe they're both just very happy for some reason!)

[ HOME ]: sender picks up the receiver to carry them over the threshold of their new home.

[ AID ]: sender finds the receiver too weak to move, and scoops them up to carry them to get some help.

[ UP ]: sender finds the receiver and picks them up to carry them a distance after learning they're unable to get up.

[ BAREFOOT ]: the sender picks up the receiver and carries them inside because they're not wearing any shoes.

[ WEARY ]: sender notices the receiver about to fall asleep during a task, and picks them up to carry them to bed so that they can actually sleep properly for once.

[ TWIRL ]: sender catches the receiver in their arms and spins them in a neat twirl just because they want to.

[ HERO ]: sender notices the receiver about to fall from a height, and manages to intervene just in time, catching them before they get hurt.

[ FLASH ]: the sender and receiver are part of a photoshoot, and in order to finish the last of the photos, the sender scoops up the receiver in their arms for the final pose.

[ TRAIN ]: during a training session (for a fight or a performance, dealer's choice!) the sender ends up holding the receiver in their arms during their session together.

[ URGENCY ]: sender carries the receiver away from danger after the receiver is revealed to be unable to move, either due to panic or injury.

[ OUT ]: sender grabs the receiver and lifts them into their arms after noticing them swaying and beginning to lose consciousness.

[ SCREAM ]: sender spots the receiver in a terrified or considerably panicked state, and picks them up to carry them to a less terrifying place to calm down.

[ LAZY ]: sender concedes to receiver's requests for a piggy-back ride home because they don't want to walk anymore, and carries them the rest of the distance home.

[ CAREFUL ]: sender gently lifts the receiver out of their seat and carries them carefully to bed after noticing they fell asleep and not wanting to waken them.

[ HASTE ]: in urgent need of getting to safety as fast as possible, the sender scoops up the receiver and starts running because it's quicker and easier to just carry them than expect them to keep pace.

[ FURTHER ]: sender, during an increasingly passionate make-out session with the receiver, suddenly takes them in their arms and carries them towards the bedroom to continue their evening in private.

[lostinthewildwest]

¹ .ㅤ‘ via the system of touch ’ .     the following is a compilation of   action based   prompts , originally created by me . warnings applied for : some potential nsfw / suggestive themes .   ( additionally : send ‘ + ’ to reverse the roles , and have the   receiver   be the one to perform the action ) .   do not add anything on to these memes .  

hands.  for your muse to take a hold of my muse’s hand.

tie.  for your muse to adjust an article of clothing on my muse.

combat.  for our muses to train together in combat.

pin.  for your muse to pin mine to ( the ground / the wall / a surface ).

push.  for your muse to push mine in a playful manner.

shove.  for your muse to shove mine in an aggressive manner.

tend.  for your muse to help tend to my muse’s injuries.

trace.  for your muse to trace their hand along my muse’s ( skin / scars ).

gag.  for your muse to place their hand over my muse’s mouth, to try to keep them quiet.

kiss.  for your muse to kiss my muse.

hair.  for your muse to brush my muse’s hair from their face.

pull.  for your muse to pull my muse close to them.

sit.  for your muse to encourage mine to sit and rest.

lap.  for your muse to pull my muse onto their lap.

tackle.  for your muse to tackle my muse to the ground.

fight.  for your muse to physically attack my muse ( by hitting / punching / kicking / etc).

neck.  for your muse to place their hand around my muse’s neck.

throat.  for your muse to hold something against my muse’s throat.

collapse.  for your muse to catch mine, preventing them from falling to the ground.

carry.  for your muse to insist on carrying my muse when injured.

warmth.  for our muses to seek warmth from each other, after being caught in a ( snow storm / rain shower ).

morning after.  for our muses to wake up together the next morning, after having a one night stand.

wake.  for your muse to wake mine up by kissing their ( shoulder / neck / lips / etc ).

dance.  for your muse to force my muse to dance with them.

drink.  for our muses to spend time together whilst drunk.

swim.  for our muses to go for a late night swim.

intimacy.  for our muses to embrace each other after sex.

death.  for your muse to comfort mine after they have lost a loved one.

goodbye.  for your muse to hold mine as they lay dying in their arms.

[lostinthewildwest]

this is not you. ( Milton or Sean @ Grace )

TW: Blood, Death

Since the day Andrew had sent her into the gang, Grace knew she ran the risk of taking a life but she never thought it would be like this. Was she justified, had the necessity been bred? Yes. She'd had to kill. That was the world she lived it, wasn't it? Kill or be killed. Despite these facts, Graces hands still shook and her breath still trembled as in entered and left her. Never had she shown up to Andrews office unannounced and never looking like she was living in a camp with a gang but after everything she'd seen and done, that was where she found herself. Instinct had taken her to her husband, to explain or comfort, or beg to be relieved of this task. The people of the office stopped to stare at the small redhead as she walked past desks and open office doors to get to Andrews. There was only a moment that she stood in the doorway of his office, her green eyes shining with hot tears, before Andrew caught sight of her and dismissed the person he was speaking with. "Andrew," Grace breathed out his name on the verge of breaking. "I had to..." Her face was splattered with drying blood, her hands coated in a thick layer of it, and her clothes had been ripped and thoroughly dirtied. "I killed him. I didn't...have a choice." And within moments, the door was closed and she was being ushered further into the room. Whatever he said, wherever he touched her, Grace didn't register it. The event played over and over in her mind, the sounds, the smells, the visuals. God, all the blood. "This is not you." His voice finally broke through the never-ending torture in her mind and Grace looked up to him. Wasn't it, though? Wasn't she the woman that had gutted a man for laying a hand on her? Hadn't it been her running with a gang of outlaws and feeding information back to her husband? "What happened to me?"

[lostinthewildwest]

"Thats my brother, you know."

Sean Macguire [1/∞]

[lostinthewildwest]

You drunk? I was heading that direction, till this detour.

[lostinthewildwest]

Grace Taylor

She smells of rosemary, lavender, and mint.

In her teenage years at the Church, Grace only had a few memories of her parents that were clear as day. One of them was the smells she associated with them. Neve smelled of rosemary and lavender, partially from gardening while Grace played in the gazebo, and cooking. Auguste smelled of Mint from chewing on the mint his wife would bring in to cook with. After she left the church, Grace searched for the smells high and low and finally found them on a small farm in Lemoyne. She learned to make soap and included the key smells of her parents.

[lostinthewildwest]

Hi, whats up, hello! I'm Chuck, she/her, 27, and you've found my multi-muse 18+ blog! You'll find Red Dead Redemption (1 &2), Justified OG (CP coming soon!), Criminal Minds, Top Gun (OG and TGM), and Tombstone! Semi-Selective, Multi-Ship, Multi-Verse Est. 06/06/24 Carrd -

You can find the old blogs here - @grace-pricilla-taylor & @jaycee-ray