#sing me oh muse

[katerinaaqu]

Do you think that Homer, when performed his epics in public, he would also change his voice when he sang every time a different character spoke and be a performer or just sing the whole thing through? 🤔

[death-by-physics]

I was writing a dream sequence that was supposed to devolve into a nightmare that explained some of the background for the story but instead it morphed into a prophetic vision and now I have to rethink where things are going.

The OG plan was the MC stumbling across an old acquaintance and being pulled into a game of cat-and-mouse while chasing rumors about his missing teacher.

New plan I guess is MC finding his way to where the vision told him to go and ??? I don't know, I guess the story will tell me as I write

[faolonfiendrender]

Hello, listen.

[jheqiawrites]

You know you're an MLB writer when...

... you easily have thirty tabs open in your browser covering such random research as fashion modeling poses, spring fashions for men and women, Etruscan reproduction jewelry, gettyimages, modeling tips, traditional art rendered in spray paint, style guides for men, the procession of Charles III's coronation, crazy fashion trends, pictures of the inside of a very specific French cathedral in Clermont France, and at least two searches for the craziest coffee shop orders known to man.

[kingsbride-moved]

Sorry that I saw pink crochet braids today and got sentimental cuz I thought about Rose Quartz 💔💔💔

[hellheld]

i may have realized that harlot is actually going to be very difficult to ship with IUHRGUIEGTKJR

[dullweapons]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ?

Love as a Force of Nature :

Your love is like whiplash –– it comes in with the rain, it blows the doors wide open. When you fall in love, it is sudden and hard and immense. It is powerful. It is earth-shaking and world-ending. Nature is a force, and that force can be destructive if you're not careful. See how the world is doused in gasoline and set on fire –– your love consumes, your love takes, your love burns. You're hot and cold all at once, a hurricane and a wildfire bound together in skin, and when you're in love, it can feel like it's eating you alive from the inside out. When you love, it is with everything you have because it is everything you have. Be careful, darling, because not everyone survives the storm.

[crownshattered-arch]

@diverse-hearts

and i loved and i loved and i lost you

[quillheel]

@tenebriism // sophie & howl!

her nature, to care, to wait, had lived in her long before she stepped foot into this castle. But it was the stubborn, sincere will that guides her now, true-minded, developed like a skill. darning needle, embroidery thread in so unreasonable fabric, task turned over again and again until she knows the motions even when she doesn't : the roots of them, the little sparkling parts that really matter : which is to say — she'd know this bit by heart now.

at least, some broad and smooth part of her heart, now. written on it in shining ink. she's sure of it. she'd be proud to say how she wasn't gifted it, like her sisters had been in all the other ways she still underestimates and underwhelms herself over, but instead to say it was practiced, and learned, and sincere beyond sincere in those interwoven laces. What it takes to progress, what it takes to experience

She couldn't say she'd find herself caring about such things as beauty as she once had, no, not in a long time now. Unlike...

" Are you really still on about that? " the chime, not unkind but rather a sort of flat-footed tone she takes when she's unbothered or perhaps only feigning it to tease him, hails from close to his bedside, as she reaches up, up to some bottles hiding in the back of a shelf almost covered in his knickknacks and all those shining things; careful despite, the way she is undeterred even as her back protests, eyes glancing down to him only briefly ( a moments study, but she hears more in his voice alone. ) and her fingers find the neck of a vial as she speaks, " You know, I still think black is a nice look for you. Being blonde isn't as nice as you'd think it is! Though, if it's different with magic than naturally, I'm afraid... "

she sees the tremor in his throat, the hard rattle of his body tensing, the tendons of the neck & the shiver of his shoulders & his sharp breath pushed out, that moment just before his coughing fit, and she's down from her stool in one step backwards unto solid ground between the clutter and the plates resting 'pon the hardwood with nowhere else to put them, tea resting on his end-table — she's got a hand on him then, first pulling at his shoulder to shift him unto his flank, then sliding down, gingerly, to the side of his neck. her fingers covered by wefts of dark hair, rubbing soft soothing circles into the tender skin, gracing the nape of his neck...

she can't help but note the ash that sputters from him, tangled in saliva or out on the air in thin wisps, and something in her churns, nervous... a budding worry, to see an omen but not it's cause. no, no, not yet... but, the ash she'd seen, the marketplace... Come on Sophie, focus now, gentle...

" Shh... Easy, Howl... you know that's not true... " her answer is ever so softer than the one prior, aged fingertips still messaging as she speaks, his soft hair resting over her knuckles as she does. in her other hand, the vial, which she examines carefully... she could never truly hope to know everything in this place, what it did and could do, much less what was in it, but she'd gotten better of feeling out which to be which after the bath incident; something in the consistency, in the shimmer, in the swirl, in the hold of it... her attention never strays from him for long, even if all she has to spare is her voice, as croaking as she knows it to be now. ( she's half-certain Howl loves the sound of a voice, even if he doesn't answer to it. the noise of people's speaking. she doesn't find her own all that pleasant, but a distraction might be kind to him, now... )

" If I had it my way, I'd already have gotten Markl to try his hand at making something to at least soothe your chest! surely I doubt he'd be able to make that cough any worse. or, better yet, find something myself, but... " 'But I don't want to be apart from you. I don't want you to feel as alone as oftentimes, I think you do. I know it to be fleeting, even if you should know I'll come back. The worry, there. I don't want you to convince yourself that you are being proven right...'

— ... all she gives a vague little shrug, and her hand slides from the back & side of his neck to closer toward his shoulder, perhaps a means of holding him in place, as she sets the vial down, and one-handedly works at a gnarled bundle of old herbs ( ginger, mint, chamomile... ), plucking and pinching off the stubborn leaves and long-dried flowers in a hope, quietly, that they might help if she found the just right way to use them. More familiar than the vials and elixirs and concoctions surrounding her at every side... ( She's grateful they're not rotted, by how long they must have been here for... ) —— " Ah, well, maybe later. Can you be good and tell me what's wrong, then...? I hear the cough, but what about a fever? " she briefly considers the idea that she doesn't actually know if wizards can get fevers, at least as intensely as the unmagical, but she chooses to ignore such thoughts as she raises a hand and touches it to his forehead, seeking, attentive...

surely, were there any other injuries, she would find them... ( so rarely does the fire that cause such smog leave only it's ash as a keepsake to the injured... )

[bardsandchangelings]

Tag dump (misc 1)

A dark congregation of familiar faces // Gathered around the quiet earth. (Open rp)

The bluebirds flutter in my chest // oh they want to sing! (Memes)

You'll have to break me open // to hear anything. (Answered)

I may not heal from all these bruises // but I’ll be better off this way. (Headcanons)

We'll sing a chorus // one that everybody knows! (Musings)

[secretsappyabode]

ive been re-listening to hade5t0wn and thinking abt its themes and stuff, and it’s making me think of a scenario with the stan twins and myself where im trapped in this other plane of existence and some supernatural being is keeping me there, causing me to slowly spiral into self deprecating thoughts of how no one knows im there and i have to resort to saving myself; a result of me constantly putting on this confident can-do attitude so everyone assumes i can handle myself and I don’t need help, so now its all up to me to get myself out of this prison as if the twins aren’t literally busting their asses to get me the fuck out of there cuz they can see me but I can’t see them so they’re just practically clawing at this invisible wall that’s separating us cuz how dare this cruel unjust universe make me, of all people, think that im not loved enough and that I wouldn’t be worth saving and that they wouldn’t go through hell to get me back into their arms and and and

[jheqiawrites]

Another spoiler image for A Royal Pain.

@sing-in-me-oh-muse

[kingsbride-moved]

My mom told me she thinks Majin Buu is cute... 😭

[boatdriinks]

MAIN TAGS

[gghostwriter]

Camaraderie

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and some unwanted guests catch you singing at a bad time Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.1k a/n: something short n’ sweet, get it? i know i said i was sick and I still am but i wanted to really write something based on this post so i did and since I’m still battling the flu, this isn’t my best work nor has this been edited but still posting it for the fun of it all! Hope you like it. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗

Spencer Reid was never one to forget. After all, his near perfect memory didn’t allow him to, which was a curse and a blessing on itself. So it came to everyone’s surprise when Morgan came strolling in the BAU office after hours to pick him and Luke up for a scheduled boys’ night out and the boy genius innocently asked what he was doing there.

“No way,” Morgan chuckled, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Pretty boy has forgotten something? It must be my lucky night ‘cause this only happens once in a lifetime.” 

“You really forgot?” Luke clarified as they all packed into Morgan’s four door vehicle. “Oh man, I thought you were pulling my leg a while ago when I brought it up and you made no comment.”

“It really slipped my mind!” Spencer’s voice going up in defense. 

The duo laughed. 

“Or maybe you’re getting old,” Morgan needled as the car came to a stop at a red light.

Spencer shook his head, wishing to drop the subject. “Hey, do you mind passing by the apartment for a bit? I didn’t tell her that I was going to be out late since it you know, slipped my mind—”

“Can’t you just text her for that?” Morgan argued back.

“—and I’ll drop off my dirty go bag.” 

“Oh got the missus doing the laundry?” Luke teased. 

“She’s not my wife yet,” he sighed dreamily. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was looking forward to it. He had half the mind to propose elopement when got down on one knee but the excitement you radiated off when discussing about themes, dinner placements, and the wedding gown was enough for him to dispose of that idea quickly. It didn’t matter how fancy or how long the planning would take, as long as at the end of it all, he got to call you his and you get to call him yours. Everything in between was just lavish wrapping to present the world Mr and Mrs Reid. 

The car came to a stop, bringing him out of his musings. 

“Thanks Morgan,” Spencer started to exit the passenger seat. “No need to go up, I’ll be quick.”

They both shook their heads, also stepping out—Morgan from the driver’s side and Luke from the side beside him.

“We’ll say hi to the future Mrs Reid,” he patted his back as the trio packed into the elevator up to his floor.

Spencer shrugged his shoulders in acceptance. With your busy work schedule and the upcoming nuptials, it was a rare occurrence for anyone from the team, expect for Garcia, to catch even a glimpse of you.

Echoing melody was the first thing that greeted them once they stepped out of the lifts. 

He laughed under his breath, already knowing that it was coming from the home you both shared. It had been a ritual for you, of sorts, as the only neighboring apartment was empty from tenants. There was really no one to scold you for making any ruckus at this acceptable 7pm time. Spencer, for one, wasn’t one to spoil your fun. He loved seeing you be free, dancing around in his clothing and singing the lyrics no matter how off key. 

Key slotted to the door, he let themselves in without any words exchanged—just looks and laughter under their breath.

—and I’m obsessed Are you free next week? I bet we’d have really good

Spencer admired your swaying form from behind. Wearing his Caltech tee that was three times too big for you, neckline slipping off to one shoulder. His very own personal sunshine chasing away all the darkness that had tainted his very being. 

Unaware of your audience, you belted out the next cheeky lyrics. “Come right on me, I mean camaraderie. Said you’re not in my—” 

Luke slapped his mouth to stop his chuckle from escaping while Morgan’s eyebrows raised at an all time high.

“Love,” Spencer urgently called out.

“—timezone, but you wanna be—eek!” You shrieked, turning to face the voice of your lover, only to find two more unaccounted for in the audience. 

“Hey pretty girl,” Morgan drawled out. “That’s some nice singing you’ve got there.” 

You felt your face flush with mortification. Out of all the people to have caught you, it had to be Morgan. The self titled big brother who liked to tease all he held dear to his heart. 

“W-what are you all doing here?”

Spencer reached out to give you chaste kiss on the lips. “We’re going out for a boys’ night out and I forgot all about it.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re all here exactly.”

“I was just going to drop off my dirty go bag and they wanted to say hi,” he smiled at the embarrassment he could clearly see written in your expressive face. 

But i bet we‘’d have really good bed chem How you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round Oh, it just makes sense How you talk so sweet when—

“Oh my god,” your feet pattering on the hardwood floor as you ran to stop the vinyl still playing in the background. “Not one word,” you threatened the duo with a finger raised up high.

They both raised their hands up in defense but mirth was clearly painted on their faces. This was definitely becoming a lethal ammo perfect for quips and teasing. 

“Okay, you three out,” you all but pushed them out to the lobby. “I need to bury myself in copious amount of wine and please, forget everything you saw, okay, and Spence—” you leaned in to give him a kiss goodbye and squeezed his hand that held yours. “—I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun!” 

The door slammed shut without another word uttered.

Morgan turned to Reid with a smirk on his lips. “So camaraderie, huh?”

“Shut up,” Spencer quipped back, giving him a slight shove towards the elevator.

But before he himself stepped into the awaiting lifts for a night of no doubt teasing and innuendos, Spencer sent a quick message back to his other half with cheeks red and a grin on his face.

Your wish is my command, love. Later. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!