[ guide ] your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .
DECEMBER 2021. ❛ — are we almost there ? ❜ she asks impatiently. ❛ is the blindfold absolutely necessary ? ❜ she continues on exasperated, with his hand on her lower back he maneuvered her around the house skillfully. ❛ complain one more time and i might actually gag you. ❜ he whispered darkly in her ear. ❛ ah you know what, forget i said that, you’re probably into that. just shut your pretty little mouth, we’re almost there anyway. ❜ he managed to push open a door, guiding bridget into a dark and cold room, before he pulls back his hand from her, now busy fiddling with the tie on her blindfold, finally taking it off of her. ❛ you do realize i still can’t see a thing right ? ❜ she laughed amidst the darkness, probably rolling her eyes at his silliness. ❛ oh right sorry. ❜ he quickly moved to find the light switch, with a click sound the lights flashed open, revealing a nursery splashed with varied hues of pastel, embellished with a hundred different toys and whatnots. he stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, propping his chin on her shoulder. ❛ i think the hanged up too many stars on the ceiling. what do you think ? ❜ he glanced up at her, she looked liked she was about to cry. it was probably her hormones kicking in early, he thought fondly, nuzzling his nose into her neck.
[ groom ] your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc .
MARCH 2017. he shouldn’t have let her drink so much, but drunk bridget was so endearing and persuasive, almost ten times than sober bridget is, that he found it a challenging task of hindering her from consuming any more alcohol. conveniently, she passed out on his bed. he sighed, hands on his hips as he was deciding on what to do. he couldn’t leave her wearing that uncomfortable looking dress she had on, the makeup that managed to stay on her face the whole night and those heels of hers that could actually stab a man with enough force. he grabs one of his sweat shirts and a pack of wet wipes. then he sat down and began to wrestle with the unreasonably small hook on her heels. successfully taking out both shoes and throwing it on the floor carelessly, he began to remove her make up with one of the wet wipes, before he started to peel of her skimpy dress, popping on the sweatshirt on her quickly, before she could get cold. ❛ i swear to god i’m dating an infant. ❜ he mutters to himself a small smile on his face, as he climbed into bed, tucking bridget and himself in, just right after she rolls on her side to pull ollie into an embrace, his brain was most likely addled with alcohol as well, but he swore he heard her whisper i love you.
[ clean ] your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc . feel free to specify what and how .
JULY 2017. baking could be considered one of his strong suits. unusual, very much so, though being the eldest brother, he reckoned learning how to bake wouldn’t be so bad, considering how he had five younger siblings that craved sweets around the clock. now he had one princess, who woke him up at the middle of the night wanting a batch of cupcakes to munch on, sitting pretty on top of his kitchen counter. as much as he would rather be sleeping, it was difficult to deny bridget of anything she wanted. ❛ babe, could you hand me th— how many times do i have to tell you that if you want to taste the frosting use a goddamn spoon ? ❜ he clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. he stops mixing the batter to walk over to her giving her the utensil. ❛ what a mess, you got the frosting all over you. ❜ he bends his knees, in order to clean up the dollop of frosting on her thigh with his tongue, standing up to move to lick her fingers clean this time, while he watched her breathing hitch at his every touch. his hands slipping into her shirt, his lips buried on her neck, smirking into the warmth. ❛ — how about we forget about the cupcakes ? ❜
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send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:
what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone
bridge to terabithia
what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone
what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone
we don’t have to take our clothes off
my muse’s last text to your muse
alistair → bridge to terabithia: jesus bridgetalistair → bridge to terabithia: thought i’d already told you not to sext this numberalistair → bridge to terabithia: this is my work phone
