innocent (and heartless)

Mastigophobia: My muse punishes yours for something. (aka the one in which me and ren have 0 chill)

“  what was that ?  ”  his voice is dangerously cold ,  a sharp knife brushing intimately against her skin .  he takes a moment to enjoy the confusion in her eyes ,  then the realization followed instantly by fear and regret .  emotions were always displayed so exquisitely against her delicate features ,  her lips curling to form an apology ,  but he’s already shaking his head .  he moves to sit on the edge of the bed ,  patting his thigh for her to come and join him .  if there’s one thing that could always be said for wendy it was that she was smart ;  she knew what was expected of her .

she laid face down across his lap without a single complaint or protest ,  pale digits already curling into the blanket in preparation .  the first smack comes unexpected ,  without warning , drawing a delicious sound from her .  “  count for me .  ”  she shoots him a look over her shoulder half shock ,  half fear ,  and he can’t help thinking she looks so beautiful like this .

“  one .  ”  the next one comes before the word has even finished leaving her mouth ,  causing her voice to crack .  she draws a deep breath before she finally says  “  two  ”  and he does it again ,  before she’s even finished ,  smiling that mischievous little devil’s grin .  the longer she makes him wait for the count ,  the sooner and harder he hits her .  of course ,  it doesn’t take long for wendy to find that out and soon enough she’s spitting out numbers before his hand has even connected with her skin .  he finally gives her a moment ,  when they reach twenty ,  kneading the glowing red flesh of her ass almost tenderly .

“  wendybird , ”  he whispers on an exhale ,  almost like a sigh ,  but his expression is nearly undreadable .  what does he think of her ? “  she is quite like a bird ,  isn’t she ?  all frail bones and delicate skin .  soft skin ,  ”  he adds ,  as an afterthought .  “  i like having her around .  i couldn’t say why other than that she adores me ,  and i adore being adored .  ”  of course there was more ,  plenty of girls adored his good looks ,  his rebellious attitude ,  but he didn’t seem to care for any of them like wendy .  “  sometimes ,  though , ”  he chuckles lightly ,  almost fondly .  “  she can make me so angry ,  you know ?  she gets under my skin like no one else .  ”  perhaps if he would let himself ,  he would see that that in itself was something .  “  and she …  ”  he falters ,  but he’s gone this far and just the right overamount of alcohol has made him negligent of that cage he keeps locked up tight around his emotions ,  those things he pretends he doesn’t feel .  “  sometimes i think she’s just a reminder of all that i’ve lost . ”

Agrizoophobia: Our muses encounter a wild animal.

“  wendy !  ”  there is exasperation ,  almost sternness in his tone ,  but also a level of admiration as she treks fearlessly towards the wolf pup .  it’s teeth are bared at her and despite it’s small size there’s a flash of emotion that courses through peter ,  he won’t name it fear .  what if it attacks her ?  how could she be so reckless ?  wasn’t that his job ?  of course ,  like every living creature ,  it senses the warmth radiating from his wendybird ,  bowing it’s head so she can stroke her soft fur .  the worry dissipates and he allows himself to be totally lost in the moment .  this forest could pass for neverland easily enough ,  the pup in wendy’s arms near an exact replica of her neverland wolf .  he could close his eyes and lift his face up to the heavens and for a moment he could almost believe his feet were slowly lifting off the ground .

“ can we keep him ,  peter ? ”  wendy is asking ,  jerking him back down to earth ,  his eyes shooting open wide .  she’s got the pup in curled arms and it’s already seemed to make an immediate attachment to her .  it was not the only one .  

it wasn’t a holiday he’d ever celebrated before ,  back on neverland ,  where the days passed unnumbered ,  so he didn’t understand the hype of it ,  but he was never one to turn down a party .  there was also talk of new years resolutions ,  becoming a better person ,  of course ,  peter wasn’t interested in any of that ,  only the loud ,  rambunctious crowd that had gathered .  half of them were stumbling over each other ,  shouting loudly and he saw a few of his own boys mixed in among them .  peter had always thrived in chaos and a party held a different sort of energy than a fight ,  but he enjoyed the adrenaline all the same .

“ five ! ”  the crowd began to shout ,  an energy buzzing throughout the group .  he had no idea what they were shouting for ,  but he felt himself infected by the crowd’s excitement .  “ four ! ” by then ,  he’d figured he’d join in ,  if only to add to the chaos .  “ three !  two !  one ! ”  the room erupted into cheer ,  peter screaming himself despite having no idea what he was screaming for .  he was shouting when he somehow managed to hear wendy over the crowd ,  tugging on his sleeve insistently as he seemed to be basically ignoring her .  

he looks down ,  excited and breathless and is surprised to feel her tug downward on the front of his shirt .  figuring she wants to say something ,  but her voice will get lost in the noise ,  she’s so short ,  he leans down closer to her height .  her lips meet his without any warning and he doesn’t respond at all at first ,  because for a moment ,  he isn’t sure how to .  it’s not like it’s their first kiss ,  but peter’s still taken by surprise .  a part of him wants to fall into it ,  after all ,  her lips are the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted .  but there is a bigger part of him that always wins out ,  the part that clings desperately to a childhood long lost .  he breaks away ,  free hand shoving at her shoulder as his face contorts in anger and confusion .

he loved hanging out with jim ,  one of the only adults he could stand besides fritz .  though the term adult could really only be applied to his friend loosely ,  much like peter that was something infinitely youthful about him .  that was what had drawn peter to him so ,  but other than that ,  they had very little in common ,  just their boyishness and the rocket jim was trying to build .  peter had offered to help out in the hopes that they’d be able to find neverland ,  but jim should have known help from peter is hardly any help at all .  most of the time he just watches jim with bored eyes ,  asking questions and distracting him from the actual work .  today ,  however he’s taken a dangerous interest in the tech before them .  “ hey ,  what’s this do ? ”  he asks ,  flipping the switch without waiting for further instruction ,  which set off a barrage of sparks that had peter skittering away .

❝ That’s not fair! ❞

he can’t help being taken by surprise at that accusation ,  it’s one he’s thrown himself more than once ,  but he’s not quite used to hearing it .  he can’t help but laugh at the thought ,  the sound a cold ,  cruel knife on his lips .  just a vain little boy ,  how can he possibly determine fairness for others ?  “ not fair for who ? ”  he asks ,  eyebrow quirking dangerously .  “ not fair for you ? ”  his smile curls into a snarl .  “ oh ,  poor wendy , ”  he drawls ,  pity in his voice the only way he knows how to use it :  ironically .  “ she’ll have to hover around peter ,  taking care of him so dutifully for just a little while longer before she gets what she wants . ”  he steps in closer to her ,  with a dangerous speed ,  stopping only when his face is mere inches from hers .  “ you live for it , ”  the words are a growl ,  his lips a snarl .  “ and they say i’m selfish . ”

❝ You say that so often, I wonder what your basis for comparison is? ❞ 

his brows furrow instantly in anger at that .  how dare she draw attention to the fact that he has no basis for comparison ,  just about everything is new for him .  “ what it has always been ,  wendy bird .  what i say it is . ”

❝ I do believe in you. ❞

the words mean more to him than he cares to admit .  they don’t hold their power here ,  like they did back in the homeworld ,  but they still hold power over peter .  and suddenly ,  he can understand why the fairies needed belief like they needed air .  “ will you always ? ”  he asks with that childish innocence that makes him so easy to love .  “ that will be all i ever need ,  wendy . ”

❝ We’re choosing the path between the stars. ❞

his eyes are turned up and filled with light ,  a weightlessness that he can only describe as flying because he’s done that before .  just the sight of the night sky makes him feel as though he could float away from this world ,  find his way back to mermaid lagoon .  but wendy’s voice brings him back to where his feet are planted firmly on the ground beside her ,  and one sideways glance at all is all he needs to remind him that he’s not a child anymore .  that neverland wouldn’t want him ,  it would be against his own rules to go back now .  “  what if it’s a path we never see again ? ”

SHE WILL NEVER taste the sweetness of pleasure without the scorch of pain hot on its heels — that is , so long as she remains by peter’s side. and where else would she go ? where would this lone dove fly off to , if given the chance ? nowhere. there would be nowhere she could ever go where peter would not find her , if she ever truly decided to leave him. wendy knows damn well that peter would hunt her down in a heartbeat; she also knows she may never decide to leave. one would be so lucky to be able to pick and choose their damnation as she does. wendy aches , and then she arches into him , no match against peter’s will , fingers gripping his suit jacket so tightly you’d think she’d die were she to let go of him. 

“   peter.  ” it is barely a whisper , a sigh curling against his mouth as his hands twist into the skirt of her dress. she wants so badly to kiss him again , to press her mouth against the sharp cut of his jaw , to sink her teeth into his neck in a way just so that it leaves behind the faintest of bruises. it will be enough for her , to see her own claim laid against his skin , no contest against what she’s imagined him doing to her; regardless , it will be enough. but she does not move — she waits , eager , pitiful , as the music from the orchestra fades into mere static and they melt into one another. she wears devotion like a fine silk robe , hands slipping to link fingers together at the base of his neck , pulling him in impossibly closer as one leg hitches around his hip. hellfire burns her from the inside out and a sudden cry springs forth from kiss swollen lips  — he bites her hard enough to mark , she can feel the gentle throb where he’s dug into her already , and she has never been more grateful that he can maneuver her so easily as she is when he lifts her against him fully. “   peter , please , i want  —   ”

she is cut off by that sinful , smirking mouth , and she acquiesces to his force yet again; champagne and need have made her brave but reckless. she steals a moment to nip at his lower lip before she takes what initiative she can get away with having , breaking the kiss to pepper his jaw and neck in kisses that are nothing short of tempestuous. fear and desire fuel her in equal measure as her hips tilt and grind against his: she doesn’t want to be caught , and yet it’s part of what’s getting her so high , even more so , however , she does not want him to leave. to pull away , to send her crashing to another marble floor , to smirk down at her and say what ? you really thought i wanted you ? she possesses enough sense to keep herself from winding fingers into the hair at his nape , but otherwise , she is ravenous , sinking her teeth into the skin just above the collar of his coat before she returns to gift him with another kiss. “   i want you. i’m yours.   ” she echoes the sentiment again , a reassurance that she is here , she is his , and she has no intentions of leaving him again.

it’s not as though he’s asking her permission ,  that’s not like him at all ,  but there is an overwhelming arousal at her admission of wanting him .  something in the way she pleads that makes this so much more exquisite . for what may be the first time in his life ,  he is concerned with what another person feels ,  he wants - needs - to make her feel good .  it’s not much ,  perhaps more of a confirmation that she wants him in this moment as badly as he wants her ,  but it’s enough to make him dizzy .  his head is swimming in champagne and desire and the lost boy is ready to really lose himself in her ,  if only for a moment .  slipping his arms within the cage her legs have made around his body shifts his grip on her ,  so the only thing keeping her suspended is the weight of his body pressing her into the wall and her hands grasping desperately at him for purchase .  fingers ghost their way down the back of her thighs ,  as he allows her just a moment to entertain her desires .  his hands find her ass for a moment and then travelling forward tease her most delicate place with their proximity .

until they find their way to his belt ,  unclasping it with quick ,  deft fingers and cursing her silently for forcing them into all these goddamned clothes .  he’s never been a patient boy ,  but now more than he ever has before ,  he wants something and each second between him and getting it is one second too many .  buttons and zipper come undone and somehow she’s managed to remain pressed between him and the wall this whole time .  he doesn’t know what he’s doing ,  but it comes surprisingly naturally .  they’ve done things like this before ,  never this far ,  but he’s able to fall into a familiarity around wendy .  perhaps it is precisely the familiarity of her that scares him so ,  what if he were to lose her again ,  would his world still spin the same way ?  but here she is putty in his hands ,  telling him that he would always have her ,  giving herself to him .

his hands move on instinct as if they know how to tell her he loves her even if he will not say it .  his fingers find the fine cotton of her underwear and he pulls ,  feeling a growing excitement in his chest when they give ,  slipping over smooth skin .  their position doesn’t allow for him to take them all the way off ,  but desire has made him impatient enough not to care ,  scooting them just low enough off of her hips .  of course ,  he can’t possibly know that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be ,  never entertained ideas of first times on feather pillow beds .  and why would it occur to him ,  that this ,  here ,  wasn’t the right way to do this ?  why would he even consider it when every thing he was doing in this moment felt so right ?  and what would happen if he did ?

with his breaths coming in short ,  heavy heaves ,  he licks his lips a sign of desire or nervousness he couldn’t say himself ,  as hand finally travels towards his grand prize .  she’s burning up and though he’s got no idea what that means ,  but it sends a fresh rush of blood south . his fingers touch her ,  hesitantly ,  exploring this new discovery .  and for a moment he is totally lost ,  but he’s got enough momentum in just this moment to keep going .  with a slight wiggle of his hips ,  he’s able to get his dress pants down enough to pull his member out .  he doesn’t give himself a moment to think ,  and perhaps he should because that may have given wendy a moment to prepare ,  but suddenly he’s guiding their bodies together and pushing forward .

SHE DOESN’T HAVE the time , nor does she possess the effort , to process her genuine shock at their present situation. they’ve never gotten quite this close , and certainly never this easily , not without him ripping away from her and leaving her cold , curled in her bed alone. they’ve neared the lines of peter’s boundaries before , nudging just over edge when the taste of hard liquor pours from his kiss , but something always breaks between them — she’s always blamed herself for it , for his rage , and he’s always reiterated that point. in this moment , however , it seems as if they are going to dive over the edge without a second thought. wendy is more than willing to drown with him.

the lines of his body take the shape of a predator , poised and ready to lunge , to devour; at the mention of monsters , her laugh trills from glossy lips like birdsong , equal parts eager and anxious as she brings the hand not on his shoulder to trace one finger against a horn sprouting from his mask. with heels , she’s just tall enough to reach it without needing to stand on her toes , and she takes advantage of that. “   imagine if one of those monsters had cornered me. pressed me against the wall , with a hand to my hip …   ” her words , a gentle little tease , drift off into nothingness — she cannot manage another word when he stares at her so intensely , immediately forgetting where she’d intended on taking the thought. if he were to tell her to raze the mansion , turn this makeshift palace into nothing but a funeral pyre for those he wished dead , she would have no choice.

“   keep me here , i want to stay with you.   ” her plea spills forth without any sort consideration; she knows he’s already made a point of insinuating he won’t rid himself of her , but his mind changes every day , and she fears thinking that one day he’ll no longer find she’s enough. the fingers previously found tracing his mask now rest atop the hand just at her neck , and she leans into him , eyes wide and imploring. “  i’m yours , always — please , peter. my heart belongs to you; everything , all of me , it’s all yours.   ”

he doesn’t take orders .  not from adults ,  not from his lost boys ,  and certainly not from her ,  but he’s all too happy to oblige by her plea :  an admittance that she needs him ,  though she’ll never get the same from him .  his thumb moves over the curve of her delicate knuckles ,  almost just holding it ,  a gesture he has teased her with for too long ,  but it doesn’t stop him from playing that game once more .  i’m yours .  they’re the only words he needs to hear ,  the poor boy who had never learned the difference between belonging and possession . both his hands draw up to her face ,  gripping just where her jaw met her neck so he can turn her face up to his and attack her lips .  his mask is set askew by the ferocity and suddenness of the action ,  blurring the lines between where the devil ended and peter began .

she’s his ,  she’s his ,  she’s his ,  the words repeat in his mind like a mantra and he plans to take what is his .  one hand snakes away from her neck to explore ,  but the other remains a glowing red warning sign .  it traces it’s way across the length of her shoulder ,  her soft exposed skin and delicate bird-like bones underneath .  the he moves down her front taking more than a moment to brush her breast beneath the minimal clothing covering her .  then his fist closes in the skirt ,  his lips turning into a smile against his lips as he bunches it up slowly ,  teasing her with his face just inches from hers and she knows better than to close the distance without his permission .

availability : open to all ! location : winter masquerade

“ A splendid affair ! “  He needn’t dare attempt to conceal identity, his voice bellows enough to make it known. Jack had, after all, always had a certain weakness for the grandiose, for the extravagance in which most saw as unnecessary. His strides are long, the sound of leather soles clicking against floor echoes as champagne flute finds itself a home within his grip. Eyes lit up as if a christmas tree in themselves, forever breathing in the sights. It was, as he’d stated many a time before, splendid indeed. Whether or not the intentions had been something of purity, he’d little to no interest in. He revelled in it all the same. Adorned in a black tuxedo, pressed and polished as ever. He was, as he’d known time and time again, well within his comfort zone. A man who’d yearned to be the centre only to learn it was the rooted cause of his empty desires, now merely a part of the backdrop in which others yearned for.

“What a magnificent party, wouldn’t you say?” There is something distinct in Jack’s vocals, something akin to wonder. If only for a moment it’s as if his hope has found its way back beneath his skin, as if the bitterness he’d felt upon his tongue had disappeared in the wake of the Christmas cheer. Yet, he knew all the same that the vacancy within his heart still ached, that the loneliness that came with his self made seclusion still pained him so. “If I had wished it in my head it would’ve looked exactly like this. Tinsel and holly at every corner, perhaps mistletoe hung at every doorway ! “ 

the corners of peter’s lips quirk up in a smile when his eyes find the pumpkin king through the curving slits of his mask .  he moves through the crowd soundlessly ,  people parting when they saw him ,  in all his terrible grandeur ,  and those who did not got shoved unceremoniously out of his way .  he was hardly dazzled by the lights and luxury ,  peter had always found more beauty in shadow .  truthfully ,  only half of him wants to be here .  he has never been an incredibly social creature ,  more comfortable with familiarity ,  certainly not one to step out of his box and meet new people .  but there were plenty of people here he already knew ,  plenty he enjoyed to antagonize .  and his first victim would be the master of fright himself .

it had started out of loyalty to oogie ,  but the closer wendy had gotten to jack ,  the better it had become .  suddenly ,  he was mentioning every possible sordid thing he could about her in the other’s earshot ,  to see the flash of anger in the his eyes when he realized there was nothing he could do about it :  wendy had made her choice .  “ a bit of a bore ,  really .  and the music is gonna put me to sleep . ”  surprising no one ,  peter was not a fan of opera ,  or classical ,  or the instrumental music that filled the room played by a true orchestra .  surprising no one ,  his music tastes could be described briefly as trap music .  “ wendy loves mistletoe . ”  it’s harmless ,  a simple observation ,  almost kind of him to have noticed this about her .  but as is everything with peter ,  it is hardly as innocent as it seems .  “ you haven’t seen her ,  have you ?  perhaps waiting under any for me ? ”

A FLASH OF red catches in her peripheral as the stranger ( he is not. ) continues to approach , and her stomach twists in anticipation ? worry ? fear ? she does not know — all three , maybe , a heady cocktail that straightens her back and causes her heart to flutter. it is impossible to not recognize him , even if she had not caught sight of his mask , she would have known — or , at the very least , she would like to think so. perfect; the word sets her alight with a quiet , prideful satisfaction , a tremble in her fingers as peter circles her.

her lips part at the mere ghost of his thumb across her mouth , a natural reflex she cannot suppress even here , where they are supposed to appear pristine. “  thank you , peter.   ” her reply is soft , chin tilted in his grip so that she can meet his eyes through his mask; she’s putty in his hands already , too dazzled by the sights of the masquerade , the taste of champagne on her tongue , too high off of what it feels like to be desirable. wendy is given a peek at his jawline when his mask lifts , just before he presses his sinful mouth to sensitive skin , and just like that she’s all goosebumps and fluttering eyelashes , caged in between his body and the wall. one small hand comes up to rest on his shoulder — she is delightfully surprised that he’s still wearing his suit jacket , the one she’d picked for him , and her nails dig in , just a little. just enough.

“   peter.   ” she hums again , like a prayer , head turning so that her nose brushes the cheek of his devil mask. she doesn’t want to ruin this , doesn’t want to shatter the moment like a mirror , little slivers of affection crashing down around them , but he is so intoxicating that she can’t help but seek out his lips with her own. the kiss is quick and chaste , she pulls back before they can indulge any further , before she can be stung by the possibility of him pulling away , just to murmur against him: “   i was just looking for you. i’m glad you found me.   ”

his name on her lips ,  he’s certain if he still had his shadow his feet would be lifting off the floor by now ,  he would have to cling to her like a lifeline to be certain he would not float away .  her lips meet his and there’s a voice in him telling him to be angry ,  that she should not be the one doing this ,  not when he hasn’t specifically allowed it .  but the voice is forgotten amidst thoughts of what this means and how he feels about it .  and suddenly ,  he’s only angry because she’s pulling away too soon .  but it’s a playful anger ,  rather than that all encompassing rage that makes her fear and worship him .  he chases her lips with his own ,  so he can taste her sweet breath when she next speaks .

“ and i was looking for you .  i’m glad i found you first ,  no telling what monsters could be roaming these halls ,  wendybird . ”  his lips just brush her skin when he speaks he’s so close ,  his hands moving to rest on the wall on either side of her ,  offering no escape .  one moves to trace the curve of her hip under her dress ,  still not quite comprehending what about it made him want her so .  it’s not as if he hasn’t desired her before ,  it’s a struggle he deals with daily ,  but more often it’s his anger that wins out and he’s pushing her away ,  confused .  but tonight she calls to him so loudly that everything else but her has been drowned out ,  she’s shining like the second star to the right and he wants to come home .

where: the winter masquerade. who: open to everyone !!

A FLUTE OF champagne set delicately upon a table , wendy turns from the crowd in favor of escaping through the large doors that serve as an entrance point into the hall most have gathered in. light fabric swishes about her ankles as she moves , heels clicking against the marble flooring in time with the music that plays from the live band; one could almost believe this was where she belonged. she certainly looked the part — her dress , her hair , her mask , all immaculate , the picture of honest perfection , were it not for the nervous glint in her eyes and the necklace clutched between nimble fingers. 

striding down the corridor and turning a corner , she finally allows herself a moment to breathe , having put enough space between herself and the noise of the masquerade to examine her necklace. on the fragile chain rests an acorn pendant: it means more to her than she can put into words , and here , surrounded by others , she feels exposed without it. she’d had no intention of wearing it to the event , originally , but she’d stuffed it in her clutch at the last moment. just in case , she’d murmured to herself. now she attempts to put it on herself , naturally , only to end up fumbling with the clasp. it’s an awkward angle to work at when you can’t see what you’re doing , and after a few minutes of botched attempts and furrowed brows , wendy huffs her annoyance and weighs her options.

not for long , thankfully , as help comes in the form of echoing footsteps behind her , and she sucks in a breath before speaking. “   i’m sorry to bother , but would you mind giving me a hand , by any chance ? i can’t seem to get my necklace to hook.   ”

he had lost wendy in the crowd and felt already a suspicious anger growing .  where was she ?  who was she with and what was she doing ?  grabbing another glass of champagne from the servers walking around seemingly always at the ready ,  he slipped away from the crowd in search of her .  the house seemed endless ,  no doubt inspired by it’s owner’s homeland , and peter downed the glass angrily as he searched .  he lost the empty glass on a random surface and turned a final corner and there she was ,  back turned to him in that dress that had made the masquerade the least of his concerns .  the moment he’d first seen her in it he’d thought fuck the party ,  he’d like to rip it right off her instead and keep her in the apartment all to himself .  even if he had not been the one to zip her into that dress ,  he would have noticed her ,  how could he possibly not ?  mask or no ,  he would notice her anywhere .

he wonders briefly if she knew it was him ,  if she would let a stranger’s hands brush her soft skin as he picks up the minuscule metal clasp with fumbling fingers .  he clips it with some difficulty ,  letting his fingers graze the back of her neck .  “ there .  perfect . ”  she truly was .  he tried not to think too often about how beautiful he found her ,  but it was impossible to ignore his desire ,  with her displayed so lovely before him and his veins already coursing with the first few glasses of champagne .  his thumb brushed her cheek as he circled to face her ,  passing ghostly over her lips until they catch her delicate chin .

Send ‘drunk’ to receive a drunk text from my muse. 

[ txt  →  tink ] : lstn jsut quit ur job n coms get dnrkn w me insread[ txt  →  tink ] : WEJ COULD LVIE IN THEWOODS LIEK OLD TIEMS !!

Send ‘sad’ to receive a sad/down text from my muse. 

[ txt  →  tink ] : do you think neverland is really gone?[ txt  →  tink ] : i don’t know i guess, if it was, i feel like a part of me would be gone too, you know?

Send ‘mad’ to receive a mad/angry text from my muse. 

[ txt  →  tink ] : sometimes you can be so fucking intolerable[ txt  →  tink ] : you’re not three inches tall anymore so stop being so damn irrational.

Send ‘happy’ to receive a happy/excited text from my muse. 

[ txt  →  tink ] : i just bought your christmas present !!![ txt  →  tink ] : im not gonna tell you what it is but just wanted to let you know !

Send ‘tired’ to receive a slow/sleepy text from my muse. 

[ txt  →  tink ] : my favorite thing about this place? beds.

Send ‘busy’ to receive slow texts from my muse. 

[ txt  →  tink ] : i’m sorry bells!! you know i want to see you i just have to deal with something first.

Send ‘bored’ to receive a disinterested text from my muse.

[ txt  →  tink ] : why do you do this[ txt  →  tink ] : you know i’m the worst person to ask for stupid fashion advice[ txt  →  tink ] : both because i don’t care and because i wore leaves like my entire life

Send ‘reveal’ for a text where my muse reveals their true feelings for yours.