#themuseic

[themuseic]

theMuseic’s Taglist

Hello!!! I’m back to writing!!! And in the new year, I was going to get rid of my taglist, but with the new Tumblr tag updates, I felt like it was going to be a nightmare. So instead, I just started over! If you would like to be included on any taglists of mine moving forward, please fill out this form. Thank you all for sticking with me, and I am so excited to post the things I’ve got tucked away! 

[jynzandtonic]

Hey!! Hey!! HEY!! Did you know I love you? So much??

I LOVE YOU TO THE MOON AND BACK YOU ARE SO DEAR TO ME. THANK YOU FOR BEING MY FRIEND AND SHOWING UP FOR ME IN SO MANY WAYS. YOU'RE A GRADE-A HUMAN.

NOTHING BUT KISSES AND LOVE FOR YOU

[paterson-blue]

me looking at rick cult idea - :O Do you have anything you can tell us about that?

Oh do I ever, Zippy 🙃 listen, I can’t say this will ever get written but here’s the rundown. I only have a bullet point plan, I hope that’s okay! 😅 This idea has a lot of dark/dead dove content in it; however, I don’t think I have any triggering content under the cut (aside from the general mention of a cult!)

- Rick gets a photojournalism assignment at some commune out in the PNW. The leader is young, eco friendly, charitable, blah blah blah. It’s an edgy human interest piece. It’ll be an easy thing: document two weeks of hippie dippie free love and then move on to the next assignment.

- And it is easy. Sure, maybe it’s a little more “cult-y” than he thought it would be, but nothing seems to be wrong, per se.

- He doesn’t get any free love of his own—he’s a professional after all—though he does develop a bit of a crush on one of the commune members (who happens to be the leader’s sister.)

- On his last night, the two of them take a walk around the grounds, and Rick is so close to confessing his feelings when—

- She turns to him, and in a hushed hurried whisper, tells him this place is dangerous. That horrible things happen, that her brother is fucking demented, that she has a son she’s not allowed to see. She’s been in this cult since she was a child, and she doesn’t ever see a way out. So when his assignment is up, he needs to leave—and never look back.

- Rick’s shaken. He leaves as scheduled, but her words haunt his mind. And she haunts his dreams. He always falls hard and fast, but even if she doesn’t feel the same—he can’t just leave her (or her son) there.

- So, he comes up with probably the stupidest plan in all of existence. But he’s got too much faith in photojournalism, and too much dumb hope.

- He joins the fucking cult. He has to prove himself, sure—but he’s a good enough actor and it’s not like he’s lying. He does want to join—one way or another, he’s going to save the day. He’ll document everything, sneak the proof out to the public, find a way to get her and her son out.

- Rick has no idea what the fuck he’s getting into.

[slutsofren]

Happy birthday Asher!!! I hope you’re having a great day!

i am!! thank you so much my beloved zippy i love and adore youuu 🤍🌹

[callmehopeless]

cannot stop thinking about he!clyde getting an itch and trying to scratch it with his foot before he realizes he isn’t shifted

Bahahahahaha

NOW YOU KNOW I HAVE TO WRITE IT

“Darlin’? You seen the soup bowls with the goldfish on ‘em?”

Clyde’s voice rings out from the kitchen: a crashing of cutlery as he rearranges plates and stacks up the dishwasher. Sundays are made for cleaning up the trailer: freshening everything up in time for the new working week, and you can’t say you find much fun in it.

Still - you’ll both go for a run later. Stretch your paws out on the forest floor, and that’s your absolute favourite.

You brush off your pants as you walk in from the porch, sweeping brush in hand.

“Did you check the top cupboard? The one next to the sink?”

He huffs, standing from a squat in printed shorts. He’s looking so handsome this time of year - thick muscle and coarse hands as he fumbles for the the cabinet handle.

“M’always puttin’ it back somewhere stupid...”

You move closer to help him, and Clyde’s lip twitches as his face contorts in discomfort.

There’s a moment that suspends, and suddenly - Clyde’s foot stretches up...

...CRASH--!

He yelps as he topples, pulling a plate down with him onto the linoleum floor. You rush to him as fast as you can, and Clyde’s face is blanched as he groans, scratching his neck with his prosthetic and cursing under his breath.

“What the Hell happened?!”

You cup under his neck and try to help him up - putting your weight into your feet as he staggers up, brushing off shards of china plate.

And his face is beet fucking red.

“Uhhhh...”

You pause.

“Wait...did you...”

“...shut up.”

You cup your hand to your mouth...

...And burst out laughing.

Clyde’s pout is fierce as he avoids your gaze; suddenly conscious of the ridiculousness of the situation.

It’s easy to forget, sometimes. Easy to spend so long in one form that shifting to another makes your brain all twisted up. Clyde’s awful prone to it, having spent a good few months as a wolf.

Scratching with your back paw’s all you’ve got, in those times.

“Oh sweet wolf,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. “You silly goofball.”

Your silly goofball.

[eddiesfaerie]

Omg I’m obsessed with the aesthetic prompts. Wanna try “Alone at a gas station, the sky a dark blue, mountains in the distance, and no cars along the road.” With Toby? If you don’t want to hop in with him on that, I’ll take ANY of the boys that calls to you with that one!!! Thank you!!

omg aren’t they incredible? thank you so much for requesting from that list, i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoy reading it! <3

You exit the small bodega, sipping on your ice cold soda as you step back out into the humid, Italian air.

You watch as Toby finishes filling up his old car, his 1969 Maserati. 

His blouse is loose, open, the flowy material flutters in the soft wind, exposing his tan chest to you and to the night. Biting the straw between your teeth, your plush lips form a wide smile.

Your man, your Toby.

His stark white shirt is illuminated in the odd fluorescent lighting of the gas station’s overhead flickering lights, making him stand out against the dark blue backdrop of the night sky, the ocean stretching all the way to the horizon.

The mountains are quiet around the two of you, secluding you from the nearby, bustling city of Palermo. 

It’s quiet here, no one around for a few miles, no cars on the road, just Toby to keep you company, to keep you warm as the night grows darker and you grow more tired, that tired chill beginning to creep up on you despite the humidity.

“Amore.” He says to you as you approach him, approach where he leans against the car. He’s put the gas pump away, perhaps he was just admiring the infinite ocean as he waited for you to find that perfect late night snack to satiate you during your midnight excursion through the mountains.

You giggle quietly, the soda sweet and bubbly on your tongue. You feel good, safe with Toby.

He holds his arms open for you and you tuck yourself against his firm and warm chest, offering him a sip of your soda but he declines, so you keep the straw tucked away against your cheek, taking slow and occasional sips.

“We could move here… if you wanted.” He says so quietly, so hushed that if it were any louder here you wouldn’t have caught it, his words almost being whisked away by the hot wind.

You turn in his hold, pressing your back into his chest and his arms hold your tummy. You stare out into the ocean together, the unknown staring you right back in the face. 

You try not to laugh at his big plans, his big ideas that were always larger than life. 

It was something you had never experienced before, dreaming without limits. You never afforded yourself the luxury. But Toby’s shown you things and taken you places you could have never imagined before him.

Still, you're hesitant. You can’t help but be hesitant.

“Toby…”

“I’m serious, we could get the fuck out of America, come here, live a secluded life. I think it would be good for us, f-for me I mean.” You hum, understanding what he means.

You know his life is hectic, all over the place, scrambled, strewn together all the time. He needed a break, a real break.  

“I think I’d like that.” You smile.

[elmidol]

I FINALLY was able to start TBT and I’m absolutely shattered that I didn’t start earlier. I’m seven chapters in and hooked, honestly I need to turn off my data so that I don’t just devour the whole story when I’m supposed to be doing other things. It’s so beautifully written, I adore Kylo’s characterization, and I can’t wait to keep reading!! <3 anyway here I go to read some mooooore

🥺🥺🥺 Omg. You just made my day. I hope that you continue to enjoy it. I have to say that Michael Kogge (junior novelizations author) then HeartofDreamer, @kylorengarbagedump and @pnw-escapism all really helped shape how I wrote Kylo in part one especially by talking with me about him then also with me reading their fics in my early fandom days. I was always nervous since we did not know a lot about him. So it means a lot that you enjoy how he's portrayed.