#t34dious

[rensect]

♞ — What does your muse believe happens after death? Do they believe in an afterlife and why/why not? If they do, what do they imagine this afterlife to be?

{ ♞ }

"So very much," Pernix purrs, the shapes of her letters bobbing and warping gleefully under her poison-prick visor, her knifed helm. "So much happens between life and death, between life and unlife. I'd show you, but it seems like you have poor vision. Poor blood- an overall poor composition. How sad~"

@t34dious

[gcholdtrops]

shooting a starter toward @t34dious .

     " is there any message you wanna get through on this track ? "  leaning into chair while brown orbs gaze over at the femme.

[kylo-wrecked]

{ cont'd from here }

Actions speak louder than words. They scream and throw consoles across the studio. They show up unannounced in Alexander Wang. They decide what is acceptable; that mouth-frothing is vogue. Ben wouldn't hide his teeth for forty million dollars and a little respect. 

"I am an asshole," he replies sadly.

Leaf and Ben are different animals. His fans are as rabid as he can be, sharing one heart, one pumping unit on the fritz. Her fans put her heart in a glass display like a prized Barbie. Collectors that play with yarn and cotton. What they have in common are parasites.

Ben's cambers on his left shoulder—yeah, no, that's a knit headband crowning Leaf's skull in this backroom party of two and change, its mere presence coconut creaming the mala. Gross.

“’亲爱的(?)’ " 

His pronunciation is competent, evidenced by long tours through Singapore and Beijing, a past getaway to Guangzhou that led to their manager's untimely spiritual demise. 

And speaking of death. 

"If you pretend you like me, someone might notice." That's not a smile teething the glass rim. "Can't have that."

That's yet another beast.

Ben tongues wine like a cat. Eyes glittering with devil's mirth and a dusting of snow. His seasonal ~fun~ isn't yet habit— isn't yet something Condé Nast and its subsidiaries find tantalizing. He's not yet been burned like the KoR Grammys he'll toss in a fire, palladium with black-ochre edges. There are more delicious rumors. Murmurings that circle fruit baskets and moons of pâté. Wrapped in gold leaf. Right here in this chamber. 

'Mr. Adele' waves off Leaf's fleas. Her company, her entourage. Whatever they are. He's here for her.

"Can't prove what's not true, baby," Ben says, almost as bad as the wine. Acidic. Wan. Drinkable nevertheless. Leaning too close, spilling his scent, juniper, a hint of Hong Kong cigarettes. Searching her face. "Come on, don't be boring. You bother me when you're boring." 

Mr. Double-Platinum yields a coy blade from his Swiss army arsenal of angles, slicing Leaf up and down with a gaze. He's gone platinum again and could be a braggart, but that's not why he's here.

Yes, yes. Why here, why now? He's here for Leaf. He's here because everything is happening right now. He's here because he can be wherever he wants, because his presence is inlaid into the natural order, like a storm.

@t34dious

[kylo-wrecked]

🚢 [ Gen/Potential option? ]

*warms hands* 🎲

{ from this meme :// not accepting }

do i ship our characters together?: yes {it's a hateship rn and that's still la ship~} I no l not yet but maybe soon would i like to ship with you?: yes I maybe, i’m willing to try | no type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love I fling I long-distance | online relationship I just dating I new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits tropes i’d enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers I exes to lovers | fake relationship/dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine I star-crossed lovers | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between  what now?: let’s plot something | send me shippy memes {when i unlock my inbox} | i’ll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i’ll write you a random starter  anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: i don't think they've insulted each other enough.

@t34dious

[kylo-wrecked]

🚢 [ Leaf (Leaves?) / Ben ]

leaf is an experience. ✨ put that on your testimonial page.

{ from this meme //: not accepting }

do i ship our characters together?: yes I no l not yet but maybe soon would i like to ship with you?: yes I maybe, i’m willing to try | no type of relationship i could see: childhood or high school sweethearts | exes | engaged | married | long-term relationship | crushes | unrequited love I fling I long-distance | online relationship I just dating I new relationship | toxic lovers | friends with benefits | not sure how to classify what they’ve got going on- they are cosmically entwined. sorry leaf. tropes i’d enjoy writing for them: friends to lovers | enemies to lovers I exes to lovers | fake relationship/dating | forbidden love | grumpy and sunshine I star-crossed lovers | second chance | soulmates | amnesia / mistaken identity | forced proximity | secret relationship | slow burn relationship would i rather plot first or jump right in and see where it goes?: develop their relationship first | jump right in | something in between  what now?: let’s plot something | send me shippy memes {when i can handle more memes} | i’ll send you shippy memes | write me a random starter | i’ll write you a random starter {whenever tempted, with no obligations to respond ic} anything else i want you to know about me / my character / my shipping habits: sporadic gorls forever🥂

@t34dious

[hilllbillies]

“ you don’t need to be walking these roads alone at night. you should get in. ” (Leaf to ghost v. Billie?)

THE  TEXAS  CHAINSAW  SERIES   sentence starters !

in life, billie was an expert hitchhiker. she knew all the tricks to get someone to pull over, how to bat her eyes ever so, so that a trucker's willy would get all excited and he'd give her a free ride. with no driver's license and foot power only getting you so far, it was her go-to way of getting around.

fitting then that in death, when billie is so desperately trying to find her way home, she returns to what is familiar.

these days, she does not have the same luck hitching a ride; instead of her post-mortem state, billie chalks it up to people being assholes. not that it matters now; fuck the rest of 'em, her luck is beginning to change! about damn time.

"shit, thank you so much." this level of appreciation is unusual for billie, but she's desperate; all day standing out here, and this is the first person willing to help her? hell, she'll mind all of her p's and q's if it gets her where she needs to be.

billie flashes the other a toothy grin as she opens the passenger side door. "you headin' up by big bend at all? 'cause that's up by where i'm headed."

[hilllbillies]

“ could be worse, at least we’re not as bad off as those people in the body pit. ” (R!Leaf to Main Billie)

THE  TEXAS  CHAINSAW  SERIES   sentence starters !

that's been the abney family mantra for as long as billie can remember. actually, they have never had a set mantra, but it's something she's heard the elder members of her family say plenty of times. as down and out as they've been, and they've been pretty fucking down and out, the abneys hold one thing over one group of people: the dead. as long as that ain't you laying six feet under, things can always be worse.

and the abneys, vultures that they are, have always circled above people that are more unfortunate than them. waiting for the right moment to swoop in ...

"you think any'a them got the good shit on 'em? wallets, jewelry, that kinda thing."

[kylo-wrecked]

[ gingerbread ]  for our muses to build a gingerbread house together { Leaf “I died and haven’t made a gingerbread house once in my life. You owe me." roping Ben in. }

{ 🫀 You broke and bought:// Music!Ben/ not accepting }

Gingerbread spirit house, here they went. Procured from none other than Cold Storage, Singapore's hibernal region. Then, back at the mercy of the sun and the moss-thick air that curled Ben's hair around his ears. She drove; he felt sick to his stomach, couching the DIY set on his knees. 

Were they in New York, he'd never consider a kit. He'd forge frosting from scratch, construct while seated on the floor, shoulders hunched in concentration, layering dough like a hill tribe woman wrapping bánh nếp—something his mother had caught him attempting last December, to her amusement and his chagrin. 

He wondered what she thought of him now. 

Rather than banana leaf, Leaf. One small body nudging the orbit of a stationary object. A life within a life and a little dough house molded in its honor. He handed her an icing tube, the white glue for four cookie tiles. She dolloped the mole above his eyebrow, the one above his lip, creased in a nasolabial fold. Ben smeared red frosting on her nose. 

"Don't try to start a war with me," he said, pulling at his t-shirt armpit, though the cotton had long since cooled. "I'm retired."

Leaf stuck her tongue out at him ('loser, coward' - he could taste the thoughts), and he planted a gumdrop there.

"Seriously. I have forfeited my right to foodfight."

And to drive, and drink, and if not for Leaf, then to live.

@t34dious