#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

[xremixedx]

Tag Dump 2

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)

I'm an apostrophe // I'm just a symbol to remind you that there's more to see. (Musings)

I'm gonna change you // like a remix! (Aesthetic)

[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)

[faolonfiendrender]

you want to check out this filk album that's now on archive.org

[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... 😭

[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

[boatdriinks]

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