#nicbenoit

SOCIAL MEDIA & TEXTING PROMPTS

send  🐦  for  a  tweet  about  your  muse

Send me a 🍻+ the question you want to ask my muse for a tipsy, drunken (honest) answer.

“ohhh, easy. you’d have to be my dad. not that i would say hate, but.. close. strong second. whatever is a substep lower than hate? or y’know what? whatever. screw it. hate is fine. hate it is.”

Send a “🙌” and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse.

Name: Ben Abrams Sign: capricorn ass motherfucker

One of Emma’s oldest and closest friends, the two grew up together in Northern California and are thick as thieves. Ben runs a weed farm in Ojai and it’s a wildly successful business. He’s always tending to that so they don’t see each other as often as he’d like, but at least a few times a year he makes it a point to come and see her. He hates her ex Tomo with a passion (while only knowing half the story), but he’s always there for Emma when things go south. He loves her like his actual sister and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her.

His girlfriend Mazie is a former circus performer turned energy healer/spiritual advisor. 

Has done six months for a drug related conviction.  

Zen as fuck but will cut you for hurting his loved ones.

His friends were precious to him, as Sheppard had always believed in the value of having people you could depend on ​when times got rough, but he also knew it worked both ways. That’s why he was taking time out of writing to attend this poetry slam/open mic night thing that one of his friends was going to be preforming at. It wasn’t his usual scene, but he wanted to show support. It helped that there was someone he could drag along to keep him company in the audience, as Nicholas had similar interest — it was how they became friends in the first place.

The coffee house/bookstore where it was being held was surprisingly packed, but the pair had managed to find an empty table after getting their drinks, Sheppard’s choice a simple tea as he didn’t want to be over caffeinated in the evening. His choice turned out to be the wrong one, as the first two acts had been so monotone and dull that Sheppard had propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin on it to keep his head up. It was only as his hand slipped that he realized he had sort of dozed off. He could blame late nights for it and not be lying, but he was sure the poetry helped. “Whoa, hello, what...?” He stammered softly as his hand slipped from under his chin and woke him, looking around before settling his gaze on Nic. “ Tell me I wasn’t snoring...”

what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone?

Best butt in town.

what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone?

what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone

Tchaikovsky - Swan Lake Op. 20, Act II No. 10

  my muse’s last text to your muse

💬 [ 11.07pm] I saw you conducting a piece today by Mozart

💬 [12.22am]  It reminded me of my parents and actually brought me to tears. 

“Nic is the dumbest, most frustrating boy I have ever met in my entire life. Not sure if we’re friends or not at this point because this dumbass decided to use me for food for the first half of our relationship. I will say, though, that he’s one of the most dedicated people I know. Not to mention talented. I fall asleep to him playing every night and the man’s got a gift. Also, sucks at cooking. Couldn’t end this on a good note, sorry.” @nicbenoit

Comet: What’s your big dream?

Honestly? Happiness. Being happy with my life, not worrying, not constantly thinking about gambling... Peace.

Supernova: What’s one thing you want to do before you die?

Walk my girls down the aisle. @sofiaxshore @ingridshore

Cassiopeia: Favourite book?

1984 by George Orwell.

Vega: What’s something you’ve done that you wish you hadn’t?

Started gambling.