#selene-macsuain

[writermuses]

#ref: tadgh musings #ship: sea glass saga #selene-macsuain #//just power going out in barra and reading by candle light #//romantic sighhhhh

[tadghpairceir]

Tadgh’s fingers moved down the spines of the books of poetry in the quiet London shop on a late Thursday morning. He had time to kill when the delivery of a dining set was pushed back and he had underestimated how quickly he would read through the books that he’d brought along on the trip. His blue-gray eyes flitted across the titles for something he hadn’t already read. Padding across he read the title Cartographer and swallowed as his fingers were already pulling out the green, cloth bound book. His chest was tight as if all the air had been kicked out of his chest. His calloused palms brushed over its cover and his aching heart stopped, s.mc.s. 

‘Ah, like the poet? It’s a lovely name.’ He recalled the little sunrise grave walker saying before she left. It had stuck with him, like someone- Marcus, perhaps, had shared Selene’s work posthumously. Some of her books, he thought, had made it to him, after all. Nevertheless, he bought it left with out so much as a thank you or a smile, uncharacteristic of the quiet man. Over the next few days, Tadgh tried to open it, but something felt sacrilegious about doing it in bed, in his workshop, in the meadow where he’d lay out and read on sunsets where he finished work at a decent hour. Ultimately, he decided on an impromptu day trip to Barra, deciding to sit through it on the coast and maybe find some sea glass to set with the book when it would eventually be put to rest on his bedside table.

A drive and a ferry ride later, book sitting next to him, he parked and puttered along until he found a spot that felt right. The gray sky seemed to fit the mood as he slumped into the sand on the edge of the shore. Tadgh wasn’t sure when he’d forgotten to breathe or when he’d started to cry, but they pages were littered with droplets as he peeled the cover open, sinking into the first poem. Page after page he felt every emotion bubble back to the surface, any question that it was Selene’s words now gone. Heavy, dry throated sobs echoed down the beach as he tried to keep reading, too bleary eyed to make out a word. As he leaned forward to push himself up, determined to walk off the grief and find some sea glass, he fell forward. Tadgh’s right hand clung to the book, holding it to the same place where he kept her ‘s.mc.s’ memorialized in her handwriting at the top of his left ribcage. The man’s left hand clutched a fistful of sand and the salt of his tear slipped into his mouth as he screamed, trying to physically expel the emotional pain he’d carried for years.

How long had he been there; not thinking about the setting sun as he wept and puked and screamed and forgot time and again to breathe? When he settled into a tearless, chesty wailing, he was only aware of the physical pain of his grief. The ribs ached like they’d been broken, head throbbed as if smashed, throat sore with a different type of fever. Tadgh looked nothing short of frail, slumped on the shore wishing the words would give him peace or answers. Then he felt the soft weight of a hand on his back. He’d had ghosts with him his whole life and he froze, knowing that this was different. His hands shook, reaching for the fingertips that touched him like they knew him, afraid of finding air. “Aoibhegréine, I didn’t want this.”

@selene-macsuain​

#selene-macsuain #thread: selene 01 #tw: death #//posting jammies for this in a second fam

[selenemacsuain-blog]

As I Shake | Selene Macsuain | Head Canon | Dramatic Plot

It was the sting in her arm that woke her up first. That painful shot up and down her muscles as she clenched her fist, everything tender from the cannula still positioned in her arm. A crease appeared in her brow as she looked down at it, confused for a moment where it had come from before suddenly noticing the room she was in. It was bright, clean and there was a hum coming from around her, the running of the fluids, the sounds of the nurses station outside, the gentle beep of the heart monitor. Just as she was about to try and get up, a Nurse, called by the rising heart rate, entered the room. ‘You’re awake! Well finally, we’ve been waiting on you.’ ‘Waiting?’ ‘Yes, we wanted to do some tests but we need you awake for them. The doctor should be along soon, you can speak more to him about it.’ Selene rested back against the pillows, her brow creasing further as she tried to remember what had happened. 

The last thing she could clearly remember was being in the market just down the road from her apartment. No one had been with her at the time, she had just gone out for a few things. There was a vague memory of crashing and she could see spilling flour in her memory but nothing else. Turning slowly, she looked up at her bedside table, able to see her phone and her bag, obviously brought in with her in the ambulance. ‘Do you know what happened to me?’ The nurse looked down from her checks on the fluids. ‘You had an attack in a market down town, the owner called an ambulance and they brought you here. You have some bruising, you fell into shelving so be gentle, try not to move too much.’ Selene tried to follow the advice, slowly doing a mind’s sweep of her body, feeling her toes and then up her legs. It really wasn’t until she reached her torso that she began to feel the muscle pain and the bruising. ‘Was it a heart attack?’

Just as the Nurse was about to answer, another voice interrupted from the doorway. ‘No. The ECG suggests you suffered from heightened symptoms of your ongoing myocarditis but not a full attack, no heart muscles seems to have been badly damaged.’ ‘You mean more damaged than it already is.’ The Doctor simply raised his eyebrow at her and picked up her chart, reading over it carefully as the nurse left the room. After a moment he pulled a chair towards her, sitting down on it beside the bed. ‘As far as I can tell your myocarditis is not improving as much as we would like. It has been almost four months and I would expect to see a slowing down of the symptoms. Are you taking your medications?’ ‘Yes, and I’ve been resting.’ The Doctor seemed to ponder that a moment, looking back to her chart as Selene watched him, already knowing what was coming next. ‘I want to run more tests, I’m going to keep you in for a few days for some respite. Is there anyone your want me to call?’ 

Selene hated that question, hated the emptiness it always seemed to inspire. ‘No, there’s no one.’ It was a lie, there was people she could have called but each one she thought of was dealing with issues bigger than her own and the idea of laying this on them, it was only going to cause fuss that no one needed. As the Doctor left, reassuring her he would visit again soon, she rolled on her side and looked out towards the window. It must already be sunset. It was early afternoon she had headed to the market. It must have been Friday night. At least that meant the ER room would be busy most of the night and she could be alone to think. Think about the sudden fear that was welling up inside her. She collapsed, in public, she was all alone. What if she had been somewhere else? The thought was too much to really think about. It didn’t stop it though, nothing much stopped the thoughts these days or the overwhelming need to talk about them. 

Some days it felt as if she would burst, waking up with the long day stretching on and on in front of her, no purpose in getting up any more without her job, no really plans for any given day. Here and there friends were glimmers of hope but none of them could really listen, not that she held that against them at all. They had their own problems to deal with, ones she wanted to help them with. It was easier that way. Would anyone even really know she was missing? Apart from her presence on the network and the occasional drop in from friends, there was no other way to know. Selene closed her eyes and drew the cotton blanket up and listened to the hum of the machine, the beep of the heart monitor, the soothing voices of the nurses station. Perhaps a few days rest here was needed, a few days to get out of her apartment, and her head. Still, her thoughts drifted back constantly, as did her gaze, to that empty visitors chair beside her.

#para #head canon #tw: hospital #tw: medical #tw: myocarditis #tw: cannula #tw: doctor

[dr-dawson-young]

12, 14, 16, 19

12. When they can’t sleep, what/who is your muse thinking about? 

@selene-macsuain some of the time, patients of his, his elderly neighbors, his dog, his parents, @eittiedouglas increasingly more. 

14. What is the secret that makes them smile without realising?

When he gets texts from a special someone at work, he doesn’t reply during work hours, but thinks about what to say back for the rest of the day. 

16. What is the biggest lie they ever told someone they loved?

That he was more flexible with their relationship arrangements than he truly was. 

19. If they could say anything to anyone right now, what would it be and to who?

He’d tell @selene-macsuain at he’s sorry, he misses her, and that she has forever changed simple honey toast for him. 

[writermuses]

#ship: sea glass saga #ref: tadgh musings #selene-macsuain #//i bet they have the best homemade jam

[tadghpairceir]

Tadgh sat quietly next to the open window. The gray sky all that remains of the storm that passed. He’d found peace in the wet smell of wood, the soft breathing nearby, the drum of the occasional drip of water from the roof to a puddle. Candle light low, power long since cut out, and two little loves asleep within arms reach. Their tea was cold. Life was being lived again, ticking on at a speed he hardly felt he could keep up with.

@selene-macsuain

#ref: words #ref: food #selene-macsuain #ship: sea glass saga #family: sorcha

[tadghpairceir]

With an inkwell’s tide, you came back to me fog and shadow

With sand covered hands, I clung to you salt water sorrow

With tartan blanket heat on hips, we made love again lessons learned about ‘tomorrow’

#ref: poetry #poetry #poem credit: mine #bad poetry #//on todays episode of my trash poetry... #//be gentle #selene-macsuain #ship: sea glass saga

[tadghpairceir]

Brightness by name, Brightness, our flame.

Little Gaelic fires, a life far from the mires.

O’ how lucky? How blessed? Two hearts, now three, find rest.

I dreamt of Brightness, two years bypassed. Wee Brightness found us, our red haired compass.

#ship: sea glass saga #ref: family #family: sorcha #ref: poetry #poem credit: mine #//behold! more trash poetry by me hashtag tm #//be gentle #//i could queue this but his queue is dumb long #selene-macsuain

[writermuses]

BROCCOLI, PEPPER

BROCCOLI - muse most likely to moan the wrong name?

That’s Taney hands down. @taneyhana

PEPPER - favourite plot for your favourite muse?

My ‘favorite muse’ is just whichever is in the mood to be written. It changes daily.

For the boys I’d say Tadgh’s verse with Selene ( @selene-macsuain ) has been a favorite and I’m excited to go back to it. They had a lot of chemistry that was ill-timed a few years back. They wrote pretty poetry for each other and then broke each others’ hearts. When Eittie ( @eittiedouglas ) sort of chimed in that she was still alive and then he found Lene in Scotland it has been really exciting to get back into writing an emotionally vulnerable male character and to see him slowly open up and realize his life maybe isn’t as cursed as he thought it was. We’ll see where it goes! @tadghpairceir

For the gals I’d say Solena’s whole storyline of opening up to someone who’s very closed off in their own way and these two slowly realizing they’re each other’s pocket of happiness in the world has been really interesting and wholesome to explore so thank you @bluchucs for giving my girl (all of them really) a chance when you know I hate writing girls and worry they’re all one note. @solenabenetti

#selene-macsuain #bluchucs #taneyhana #tadghpairceir #solenabenetti #ooc #Anonymous

[writermuses]

Evergreen: soft, serene

The color of my love, Selene

Velvet: dense, Delphic

The love I aspire to merit.

#ref: tadgh musings #selene-macsuain #thread: tadgh x selene #poetry credit: mine #trash poetry hours fam

[tadghpairceir]

@selene-macsuain

#ref: travel #ref: aesthetic #ship: sea glass saga #selene-macsuain

[tadghpairceir]

But that was history, just a memory Now I'm home In the place I've been missing All along

@selene-macsuain

#ref: music #ref: home (barra) #selene-macsuain

[tadghpairceir]

@selene-macsuain

#ref: hobbies #hobby: hiking #ship: sea glass saga #selene-macsuain #loc: barra

[tadghpairceir]

👀💕

👀Favorite thing about the muse’s appearance?

The whole face, très smoochable. 

💕Favorite ship for the muse?

First off, this question is rude. I do genuinely love them all because they’re so different- new and old ones have all impacted my little broken pepega in different ways. Over time, arguably, his favorite to write has been the one with Maja, whom he could talk to through poetry and I do think that any verse where a person is trying to connect to him will have to have some connection to books to get him to open up. My favorite to write has been his relationship with Selene because angst and his own poetry. I’m super excited to write Tadgh with Alessa. The canons have been making him happy and I’m really excited about their thread. Our little beans are going to fluff each other into a nice happy life. Bless the multi-verse. Y’all just come love my broken old bookworm and make his depressed ass smile like this again.

#Anonymous #majatomasson #selene-macsuain #bluchucs

[writermuses]

#tag dump post #ref: tadgh pairceir #ref: tadgh wishlist #ref: tadgh canons #ref: tadgh closet #thread: tadgh x selene #ship: sea glass saga #thread: tadgh x alessa #ship: forged in storms #thread: tadgh x eleanor #thread: tadgh x eve #ref: tadghs starters #ref: macsuain family

[writermuses]

Sorcha’s pockets, never empty.

@selene-macsuain

#ref: tadgh musings #ship: sea glass saga #selene-macsuain #selenemacsuain