#bnjmin

[dsrtrose]

[ AWKWARD ]: after a particularly rough first encounter, the sender meets the receiver again, and awkwardly greets them with more than a touch of embarrassment.

she  should  be  the  one  who's  embarrassed.  and  in  truth,  she  is  -  more  than  a  little  bit.  the  last  time  she'd  seen  him,  it'd  been  her  hands  in  his  pockets,  adeptly  digging  around  for  anything  she  could  pawn  off;  her  success  is  the  only  thing  that  kept  her  from  being  a  starving,  marled  corpse  standing  in  front  of  him  now.

her  survival  instincts  are  supposed  to  outweigh  her  heart  -  that's  only  half  true,  at  the  moment.  the  way  eliza  stands  her  ground  is  irrefutable;  territorial,  even.  her  jaw  is  set  on  edge  and  her  hands  rest  over  her  waistline,  biting  the  inside  of  her  cheek  as  she  looks  at  him;  he's  no  better  off  than  she  is,  and  she  can  see  it  written  all  over  his  face.  he  isn't  fighting  her,  turning  her  into  the  local  authorities  -  her  heart  begins  to  fold  just  by  looking  at  him.  why  can't  she  look  away?

"i  was  never  gonna  hurt  you,"  she  admits  sheepishly,  as  if  that's  supposed  to  validate  her  actions  in  any  way,  "i,  um  ...  i'm  sorry."

*      MEME,    still  accepting      /    @bnjmin    🤍

#bnjmin #IDK WHAT'S HAPPENING BUT HERE WE ARE #* alt arc. #* writing. #tysm for indulging me and my silly little #hyperfixations and ily big <3

[deatheless]

@bnjmin sent: uh, there’s pizza left if you want some. / accepting.

she hadn't really known what to expect. a gig is a gig, for sure, and all things considered, this is a pretty cool one to have. but it's not like a store is your average venue, so she was trying to keep any and all expectations open. it's shaping up to be pretty neat, though, if she's being honest. she looks up from where she's ( struggling to ) tune her guitar when a voice interrupts her focus, and she smiles up at him in surprise.

❛ oh, for real? you're the best, thank you. ❜ they're one of the last in a long list of performers, so she'd kind of assumed any refreshments and the like would have been long gone by now, and hadn't bothered looking. a quick glance to her phone for the time ( still got at least a solid fifteen, thank god ), and she lifts her guitar up, sticking her legs out in a stretch before returning them to the floor and standing up. as she rests her guitar against the cushion, she lifts her gaze back his way, head tilting curiously.

❛ uh, is it cool if my band has some too? i mean, only if there's enough left — i don't wanna, like, take all of it if you get to keep leftovers or something, 'cause they did eat before, but i know they'd appreciate it. ❜ yeah, that's one word for it. she's not sure there's ever been a moment where felix and miles aren't hungry — but more importantly, if she's lucky, she can bribe mick to finish tuning her guitar for her with a slice.

#bnjmin #a fun little record store event perhaps............. a little pop up concert...... #* 𝆕 . . . answer. / sing another song for the people i love. 𝄒 #* 𝆕 . . . v: 02. / just been sparking the lighter. 𝄒

[curseplay]

@bnjmin sent: i just had a breakthrough. [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝ what, in the five minutes i've been gone ? ❞ she snorts as she sets down his plate. paris insists on bringing ben his food even though she isn't a waitress . . . as task she normally hates. he, and offhand comments like this, tend to make such an effort worth it. ❝ that's so not fair. i've been here since noon and haven't had a coherent thought let alone a breakthrough, ❞

she invites herself into the seat across from him. it feels so beyond good to take a load off and escape the kitchen for a few minutes. after wiping a hand on her apron, paris rests her chin in her palm and raises an expectant eyebrow. ❝ — you gonna tell me what you realized ? or just . . . torture me as you eat ? ❞

#bnjmin #paris vc i hope the breakthrough is that you should tip me 30% #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 02. … when you wake up; i'll be gone again. '

[vitalphenomena]

@bnjmin

"Oh! Hi." Of course he's working right now; his schedule is set. Also, it's why she came. She pretends to be surprised as a courtesy to her own self-respect.

"I listened to that record that you recommended. I think I'd prefer to listen to something else," she says, polite and prim, doing her best not to wound. "But I like that we have different tastes."

#bnjmin #JUNIPER H. #BENJAMIN S. #BENJAMIN JUNIPER 2.

[s1byls]

incorrect quotes ft corin & @bnjmin

#he's so valid for that #for once #never admit defeat #* s. corin & ben. #bnjmin #* ooc. edits.

[dovaeh]

midnights prompts. "i chose you." @bnjmin.

it means so much more to her than she can possibly make him understand. it also hurts so badly that he might as well have reached into her chest to touch her exposed and beating heart. there is a lot of stuff ben prefers to leave unsaid; for a long time it was that he loved her, even when she could feel that as some undercurrent shared between them, and before then it was just the simple admission that he cared and they were friends.

and although he isn't obligated to share, it doesn't help these insecurities of hers. mae can easily delude herself into believing things are in her head if they aren't confirmed — that she is not loved or wanted, that she's something to be endured more than anything else. it's unhealthy, that need for consistent validation, but being wanted is something she has craved so much it pains her, twists her stomach in knots and chokes her. she can't help it.

so having it spoken out loud now, especially when she's been so wrecked by depression and self-doubt lately, makes her feel like she's caving in. like a weight she's been holding up has disappeared and she can collapse, can breathe. the look she gives him is raw and vulnerable — relieved before the tears of course spring to her eyes.

"ben..." is all that she can say through an already thick throat, leaning forward and crashing into him. her arms lock around his waist like a vice and her face disappears into the warm collar of his hoodie, which will undoubtedly become damp from her tears soon enough. there is no hope of escape. "i.. you know i love you. and you're never gonna get rid of me. ever."

#hey :) how long have you wanted me dead? jw #there's no unchoosing they're now 1 person #bnjmin #* 𝓋. modern‚ interactions. #* 𝓈. regarding‚ benjamin steele.

[10ccs]

@bnjmin 

sam feels like he’s been flipping through the records for a lifetime. he feels like he’s been searching for this record for a lifetime. every other record store in the city has left him empty-handed. does nobody carry zeppelin anymore or something? 

“hey, man.” he looks to the guy behind the counter. “you guys got led zeppelin four?” 

#bnjmin #*sam&benjamin #hi hi!! #hope this is alright!

[mafiaheiress]

38.  WEARY :  for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other.

          EYES FLUTTER OPEN, head slowly rising from the other's shoulder. she'd made herself awfully comfortable ( poor guy's nearly smooshed against the arm rest of sofa. ) 'what time is it?' isabella's completely disoriented, hardly able to remember even falling asleep. 'why are you staring at me like that?' brows furrow together in utter confusion. 'you've got that STUPID look on your face.' ouch, someone's cranky. normally always was upon waking up ( never being much of a morning person. )

#╰ ✩. writing prompts ╱ answered. #bnjmin #talk about waking up on the wrong side of the bed.. or couch for that matter lol

[curseplay]

@bnjmin sent: you look like a cat coughed your ass up. [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝   — I ALMOST GOT HIT BY A BUS,   ❞ she says plainly . . . far too plainly, with the nonchalance of someone who's been in this position before. paris steps through the threshold of the diner, passing the booth where ben is seated to throw their belongings behind the counter. their hair is plastered to their forehead with sweat, remnants of what appears to be dirt slightly rubbed into their cheek. before the shift manager can make a fuss about them being late, she throws an apron over a splotch of mud across the front of her tank top and takes a deep breath.

❝   guess they just . . . didn't see me in the bike lane. i had to turn off the road to get out of the way and ended up running right into a tree trunk. then these punk kids rolled down their car window just to laugh at me,   ❞ they talk quickly and continue to root around for a pen and pad of paper. then, she leans against the table before him, a crisp 'CLICK' filling the air as she prepares to write.  ❝   same ol' same ol' with me. anyway — you want your usual or what ? ❞

#bnjmin #bad luck paris strikes again!!!! #: /‏‏‎ ♯ answer. … something you still seek. ' #: /‏‏‎ ♯ verse: 02. … when you wake up; i'll be gone again. '

[vitalphenomena]

@bnjmin

"Benjamin!"

Here, Juniper is always proper, always formal, always sounding like she's surprised to see him here - even though she is so much of a regular that she comes to the record store every payday, nearly without fail. She doesn't want to overstep any boundaries.

"My brothers are out of town all weekend, so it's just me at home. What's something I can put on while I run and jump and yell around my house — and nobody can complain that I'm being annoying?"

#bnjmin #JUNIPER H. #BENJAMIN JUNIPER 1. #BENJAMIN S.

[janedoez]

@bnjmin sent: 020, standing in front of a painting at the museum. [ ACCEPTING. ]

❝  d' you get it ? ❞ she asks after a solid forty - five or so seconds of silence. calamity stopped trying to figure out what all the splatters of paint meant about fifteen seconds in, actually, but ben had seemed a bit more inclined to keep trying . . . so she snuck glances at him instead. unlike most of the stuff in this place, he's very easy to look at.

they look like they belong there : a young couple dressed appropriately for the beginning of winter, though their noses are red and their bare hands are still stuffed in their coat pockets. he'd insisted on lending and/or taking her to buy the proper attire because she didn't have anything fit for a chicago winter in her traveling closet. she's also thrown her hair into some messy updo, 'cause the last time she did, he seemed to like it. it was new. this was all new.

calamity shifts her weight from one foot to another and squints at the painting again. it's still a mess of dots and splats, but if this was a movie, it would probably slowly start to look like a mirror of them.

her hand moves from her coat pocket to his, searching for his fingers. ever - restless as always. ❝   there's people who wanna see this one. lets keep walkin'. maybe they got somethin' for the beginners down the hall, ❞

#bnjmin #crying and screaming about them as usual. no biggie #✩ v: 03 . ⟶ you’ll soon be compost .

[s1byls]

send  ϟ  to  touch  one  of  my  muse's  scars.     @bnjmin.

although  she  is  happy  to  be  out  of  his  place,    no  longer  feeling  like  such  a  burden  all  the  time,    she  fucking  hates  her  apartment  sometimes.    it’s  too  old  to  have  an  ac  unit  so  on  blazing  afternoons  like  these,    she’s  left  with  open  windows  and  a  slow,    creaking  fan.    he  drops  in  just  as  she’s  leaving  her  bedroom  from  dressing  all  the  way  down  to  a  tank  top  and  shorts,    even  still  sweating  from  the  heat.

there  is  a  casual  comfort  and  trust  between  them  now  that  she  doesn’t  even  think  of  being  so  bare  except  when  bracing  herself  to  be  made  fun  of  for  her  blindingly  white  legs.    otherwise  she  simply  ignores  him  as  she  steps  over  henry’s  long  body  sprawled  out  in  a  sun  patch,    sinking  into  her  couch  like  slowly  melting  ice  cream.    he  joins  and  she  doesn’t  even  look  up,    too  busy  tying  her  hair  into  tiny  pigtails  to  keep  it  from  sticking  to  the  back  of  her  neck.

until  he  starts  touching  her.    it’s  careful,    as  it  always  is,    but  still  startles  her  a  little  as  the  backs  of  his  warm  fingers  brush  over  the  notched  scars  in  her  arm    —     a  dark  memory  of  the  amber  glass  once  buried  there    —    trailing  from  the  middle  of  her  bicep  to  the  sharp  edge  of  her  shoulder  before  his  feathery  touch  disappears.    and  for  all  that  she  truly  has  overcome  in  ben’s  presence,    that  lingering  feeling  of  the  heat  of  his  skin  still  makes  her  shiver  and  scratch  brutally  over  where  he’d  touch,    not  stopping  until  she’s  left  harsh  streaks  of  pink  cutting  through  the  shiny,    bumpy  scars.

“forgot  you  hadn’t  seen  them  since  it  happened.”    she  mumbles,    now  massaging  at  the  raw  feel  of  the  scratches.    “they  healed  good.    better  than  my  hand.”    which  is  to  say  that  they  didn’t  get  infected  like  that  had.    “just  ugly  now.”

#the way i think about that ask all the time #any time bree n ben pop into my mind it's right there #that's truly the turning point for bree and the moment where she became his lil shadow :/ #never getting rid of her ass now #* interaction. bree tanner. #* s. bree & ben. #bnjmin

[halocut]

            never  in  her  entire  life       did  angel  think  she  would  be  one  to  do  errands  for  other  people .    she  is  the  one  that  gets  pampered ,    never  the  other  way  around .    a     dramatic  huff     leaves  her  lips  as  heels  click  down  the  street ,    bags  of  snacks  in  hand .    her  brother’s  band  was  throwing  a  party  at  their  drummer’s  house ,   and  none  of  them  could  be  bothered  to  do  anything  but      practice  all  day .      sure ,  she’s  getting  paid   --    but  it’s  a  matter  of  principle .       she  fumbles  for  her  car  keys  as  she  approaches ,       bright  pink  volkswagen  beetle     sitting  pretty  by  the  curb ,    but  the  fuzzy  keychain  falls  from  her  grasp  and  lands  on  the  sidewalk  below  her .    a  loud  and  temperamental  groan  cuts  through  the  air ,   and  she  goes  to  crouch  down  only  to  realize  she  probably     shouldn’t  be  doing  so     in  her  current  outfit .   god ,    she  could  cry  right  now .     there's  a  frustrated     hmph     before  she  looks  up ,   hands  at  the  end  of  bag  filled  arms  waving  at  the  nearest  stranger  that  passes ,   @bnjmin​ .     “   hey ,   guy ,    could  you ,  like ,   pretty  please  grab  those  keys  for  me ?   ”           /          ♡      

#bnjmin #i hope this is okay ! #i was also thinking they could have / have had classes together in college #but she is .... a piece of work so she wldnt recognize him #but feel free to lmk if you'd want something different !! #ANGEL WILLOUGHBY.

[dovaeh]

midnights prompts. " they say looks can kill and i might try. " @bnjmin.

a mouthful of food keeps her from answering immediately, instead frowning and looking around wildly, not thinking to be subtle in her search. in the end it's easy to find the person he's talking about, considering he's sitting just a few tables behind her and appears to be glaring right back. mae whips around to fix ben with an alarmed look.

"please don't." she chokes as she forces down the food, moving her head to interrupt his line of sight. "'cause it's not gonna work and then you're gonna try actual murder. or just hitting, and you'll get arrested for either one. just eat your sandwich!"

#why does he have beef w/ everyone #most hated man in chicago #bnjmin #* 𝓋. modern‚ interactions.

[trainedmutt-a]

@bnjmin said: you make me mad.

gabe  huffs  a  dismissive  laugh.    if  he  worried  about  what  people  thought  of  him  he'd  have  made  some  changes  long  ago.    "yeah,    join  the  club.    i  hear  they're  looking  for  a  treasurer."      then,    without  a  care  in  the  world,    he  waltzes  into  ben's  apartment  anyway.      "now,    c'mon  man,    don't  be  a  dick.    i  know  you  got  some    ───    quit  holdin'  out  on  me."

#bnjmin #in. #in which gabe found out ben was a dealer and immediately decided that he's *his* dealer #and thus shows up unannounced out of the blue

[mafiaheiress]

i'm sipping wine in a robe.

            DARK BROW ARCHES IN SHEER AMUSEMENT. 'you say that like it's a bad thing.' for as long as the heiress can remember, she's constantly been around LUXURY & the finest things life had to offer. there was nothing odd in the slightest about ben's statement ( to her at least. ) 'did you prefer a different attire while sipping wine?' isabella can't help the soft laugh that slips passed the swell of lips, truly — she wasn't mocking him, but found his disposition rather ADORABLE. while setting her own glass of wine down, the female approaches him, closing the gap between them as arms come up to wrap around boyfriend's neck. 'it's okay to be boujiee once in awhile, baby.'

#╰ ✩. writing prompts ╱ answered. #bnjmin #i giggled so hard at this <3 #especially the picturing ben sipping wine in a robe part lmao