Latest Posts by benvanderbilt - Page 3

quinnxarchibald‌:

Unable to stifle a yawn, Quinn covered his mouth with his hand before making eye contact with a person across from him. “I dunno how I’m going to make it to midnight at this rate.” He admitted with a small laugh. He’d hit a wall half an hour ago and suddenly time felt like it was stretching around him. All he wanted, at the moment, was to go back home and crawl into bed.

Ben wasn’t quite sure if Quinn was talking to him or not. Things were still unresolved with him, even after they spoke at the party. Once again, he would act as if nothing happened between the pair. “If you need to, go home. I’m sure Arlo would understand.” He responded. "Or maybe you just haven’t had enough to drink.”

ask me unconventional/random “TOP 3/5/10″ end of the year lists!

seboriley‌:

“That is what I’m here for, my friend,” Sebastian assures, clapping his hand down hard on Ben’s shoulder blade, tapering it off with a couple more pats as he prepares a couple of the aforementioned shots with two easy pours. Well, easy if you didn’t pay too much mind to the little puddle forming beneath them, slicking up the bottoms of the glasses. “I’m a lot younger than that tower,” Seb mocks, feigning a cheap English accent he’s definitely learned from Harry Potter marathons. “Ugh. Can’t it be your New Year’s resolution to take shots without a chaser or something? I’m getting very tired of tracking them down for you.” His temper dissipates just as quickly as it forms, though, and he’s already turning towards the kitchen to start a hunt for limes, shot glasses balanced between his thumb and forefinger on either hand. “But, since it’s the holidays, I’ll make an exception.”

He wanted to be as drunk as Sebastian was at this point. A shot or two would for sure send him that way. “You need to work on your accent.” Ben could probably do a better accent than him at this point.  “Can it be your resolution to stop complaining so much? I’m asking for one thing. It’s good that you’re exercising that brain of yours.” He teased. If Sebastian was going to tease him, he was going to do it right back. “I’ll take pretty much anything at this point, my regard for taste is going out the window.” 

buffy-seymour‌:

Bottle of Malibu in hand, Buffy pushed her way through the crowd. With recent events, she was in desperate need of damage control. Which was why she was wearing white to a party. Luckily this early in the night it was easy enough to duck out of the way of swinging beer cups but the difficulty was only going to increase the more she emptied her own bottle. Her eyes settled on a familiar face and Buffy slid up beside them, a wide smile stretched across her lips. “Happy New Year’s Eve!”

Now on his second beer, Ben turned towards Buffy. He was not someone she really kept up with, she wasn’t part of a legacy family on the Upper East Side. “Wow, you seem very excited,” Ben joked, “Was 2018 that rough for you?” He asked. He honestly wasn’t sure he wanted to leave 2018, he hated odd years. At least they had a few more hours left of 2018. 

seboriley‌:

Sebastian stares… and stares… and stares some more. Finally, he works up enough energy to blink his eyes—more a harsh squint, like he’s trying to recalibrate—and maintain a pained expression on his face. “Okay,” he says finally, raising his palms as if to seize the moment with the gesture. “It is way too early in the night for you to start getting philosophical—wait… What does being American have to do with understanding time? Is it because we don’t have Big Ben staring us in the face like they do in Europe? ‘Cause we’ve got a big Ben of our own.” With that, he delivers two swift, feather-light jabs to Ben’s gut, grinning and chuckling to himself before reconnecting some… now awkward eye contact. “You want some tequila shots?”

Was he getting theoretical already? Someone should tell Ben that he wasn’t Aristotle. “Fuck, stop me. Don’t let me start telling you shit until I’m a few bottles in.” He was dead serious, Ben only wanted to be a philosopher when he was wasted. He then stared at Sebastian, wishing that he had made a different pun. No one joked about the Big Ben like that in England. “I’m a lot younger than that tower.” He had a dry sense of humor for the most part, and really only laughed at the expense of others. "Do you have any limes? I’m not sure my mouth can handle tequila without it.” Say what you want but that shit hurt.  

oatanas‌:

For a split second O just stared at Ben, eyebrows raised as she waited to see whether or not he was finished with what he was saying. “No offence but you sound like a real asshole sometimes.” She finally settled on, eyebrows raising. Not that she had any room to talk — she made an asshole of herself at least once a day but that was neither here nor there. “Besides, you do remember that you’re an American, right?”

“None taken,” He had been called worse before. “Although as long as I’m not being an asshole in your own home, then that’s what matters.” At least he was respecting her place. That had to count for something right? Well, maybe only in his eyes. He then sighed at the reminder, “Yes but I’ve spent two years in Europe.” How did he explain to her that living there changes a person? He’s different now. Still American, yes, but he changed for the better which he mainly credits to King. “What’s your poison tonight?” Who the fuck still referred to alcohol as that? Apparently, he did. 

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie couldn’t help but find it ironic, at how many people chose to dress as ‘saints’, herself included. She’d settled on a white dress, unable to stop herself from staring at the other guests who took the theme a bit more literally – Donning angel wings, halos, horns, the like. It didn’t take her long to find Ben, who seemed to have the same idea she did regarding a costume. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as he spoke, “Living in Europe really made a douche, you know that?” Chessie lets out without question, a laugh following before taking a sip of her drink. “I think I’ll stick to my gin and sense of time.”

He enjoyed his routine morning smoke with Chessie for the past few weeks that he and King had been here. Maybe it was the bond of smoking that brought them together. However, he did like to poke fun at her. “Do you really think you should be wearing white?” He chuckled. “I don’t think it was living in Europe that really made me one,” He pretty much credited all that to where and how he was raised. “Gin makes me black out. Beer, on the other hand, is a social lubricant.” He tried to reply convincingly. “Weren’t you abroad for a bit? Shouldn’t you know that?”

Ben was thankful for BYOB. He finally got to bring himself some microbrew. None of these people ever experienced how amazing beer was like he had. He donned a white suit. To the outside world, he felt as if most of them knew him as little pure Benjamin Vanderbilt. Or at least they did. He used his bottle opener to open his beer up and took the cap into his free hand. “By the end of the night, I think that I’m going to need to carry around a garbage bag for all of these,” He said as he showed his bottle cap to the other person. “Time is also just a social construct, but that’s another lecture for another day. It’s probably hard for Americans to grasp that.”

What is your favorite holiday memory?

“My father ruined the myth of Santa Clause for me when I was six and he asked why I still believed in that man. So that Christmas, my mom must’ve told him to make it up to me and I got a Rolex because he thought that was appropriate. I was able to sell that when I was abroad and let me tell you, definitely worth it. Thanks dad.”

[x]

 taterodriguez‌:

For the entirety of the holidays, Tate took it upon their self to hide within the confines of their apartment with a hefty bottle of vodka because the holidays were the time of year Tate dreaded the most.  The most Christmasy thing that Tate could bring their self to do was exchange gifts with Monty, Quinn, and Lorraine.  Other than that, Tate had been curled up on their couch clutching on to the bottle of vodka for dear life.

After a few days, Tate figured it was about time to emerge from their self induced isolation.  They found their self sitting at the bar, sipping a vodka soda, and nibbling on a basket of french fries.  As footsteps approached, a grumble fell through their lips.  “If you wish me a belated Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays or whatever else… I might throw this drink in your face.”

Alcohol was a remedy he turned to during his detoxing period. It was virtually the reason why he got through it. It had a special place in his heart because of that. And because he loved alcohol, especially beer. He hated all the boujee liquor that everyone had around here. He wanted the hard stuff and before he knew it, he was inside of a bar. 

As soon as he spotted Tate, he lifted himself out of the bar stool and over towards where they were. It was better to mope together, he thought. “I’m not going to do any of that,” He revealed to them, “Although if the drink’s good, I’m always up for a taste.” He loved to mooch off of others. “I’d offer to share my Heineken but I’m not sure that you’d enjoy it.”

You ever get in a Mood where you just wanna poof off to another country, erase your history, re-write your identity, and become a mysterious figure who’s never been photographed but occasionally appears in paintings done by unknown artists

monty-santos‌:

Monty had been spending more time than usual at the shelter. Partially because he knew that winter was the time that they needed the most help, and partially because the closer that it got to New Year’s the more anxious that Monty felt himself getting.  And his go-to strategy for that was to find something else to focus on in hopes that it would just go away.  It wasn’t a very good strategy, but he felt like it was at least keeping him somewhat sane.  It was better than spending all of his time thinking back to his arrest. 

But with all of that on his mind, he didn’t even really notice Ben was there until the other man spoke to him, snapping Monty out of his thoughts.  “Yeah, I’m ready for it to get less cold. I’ve never been a huge fan of winter,” he nodded at his friend as he kept his hands burrowed in his pockets.  “Well, that’s the shelter that I volunteer at,” Monty explained, pointing at it with his head, “so I was just on my way there. What about you?”

There was no reason to lie to Monty and yet, he felt the urge to. Telling the truth meant vulnerability and he refused to feel that way most of the time. Ben cleared his throat as he shifted his weight. What the fuck was he doing here? Why was he even around here? 

“I’m going for a run,” He lied as he looked at the other man. Lying was so effortless to him. “Well, I was, and then realized I definitely wasn’t dressed appropriately. it’s funny that we ran into each other,” He chuckled, trying to keep the attention off of himself. “Can you skip and join me? I was just about to check this new place out down the block.” It wasn’t really that new. It just hadn’t been here the last time that he was here and he definitely wasn’t here to check it out.

@rowan-tandel

 As he did most of the time since he had gotten here, he just sat all by his lonesome self. Being back in the city meant that he would have to reach out to those he ceased communication with so suddenly. Maybe that’s why he reached out to Rowan. He felt like things would be easy between them, and not complicated like Quinn.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” He said, as his thoughts disappeared and he looked at Rowan as he grabbed his jacket. He had been so used to travelling and having to keep his belongings close to him with the assumption that there were thieves taking advantage of tourists. He pretty much hoped the two of them could pick up where they left off. It wasn’t like he was gone for ten years or anything. However he felt like they had a lot to catch up. “How’s the business doing?” He asked, genuinely curious. Drugs to him were the norm. Whether he was doing them or around them, they were always there growing up. Drugs were like an old friend that he visited every once in a while now.

@monty-santos

It was that strange time between Christmas and New Years Eve which meant plenty of tourists. Even on the Upper East Side. They were everywhere. Over the course of the past week, he had been thinking about Monty and his offer to volunteer. He’d never volunteer, ever. However, it didn’t hurt to at least check out one of the shelters he was talking about. And by checking out, he was just standing near it. When Ben was a bit tense, his automatic response was to take out a cigarette from his pack and light it up. He was still uncomfortable in the city, he felt like all eyes were on him. Whether that was the case or not was yet to be determined. 

Speaking of the Devil, or rather Angel in this case, Ben perked up. What were the odds? He threw his cigarette on the floor dramatically. For some reason, he wanted to be good for Monty. Or rather when he was around him. Sort of like how he was with King. He liked to think that Monty was a good influence. “Hey,” Ben tried to act casual, as if it was the norm to see him around here. “I’m really over this weather. I wouldn’t mind if the weather did a complete one eighty,” And that was true. He missed the warmth. “What are you doing around here?” He asked, hoping Monty wouldn’t inquire about him. 

text @ everyone (wren's entire contact list)

Wren: It's my Christmas card. I made it online.

Ben: Christmas is celebrated so differently in Europe.

Ben: we should try to give it a shot over here.

text @ everyone (wren's entire contact list)

Wren: https://66.media.tumblr.com/2fa9e3cfa39b79f0cc3f8f34deaefe90/tumblr_pkbc48jjna1wrvxqxo1_540.jpg

Ben: what the hell is this??

monty-santos‌:

“Well to start, I like to think that I make a lot less stupid decisions,” Monty chuckled before sighing a little, “but I actually got arrested around this time last year because I was drunk and high and a whole lot of other things that I really don’t want to talk about, but you’re free to read on Gossip Girl if you want because she posted all about it.  But this at least keeps it from happening again,” he explained, figuring that talking about that party once was enough per day and Bishop had already claimed that topic.  “Yeah, I’m glad that she did it.  She’s a really good person, and she moved here pretty recently so I think she’s still trying to find her place around here.”

He couldn’t relate at all. All he did was make stupid decisions. “Shit,” He wanted to say he knew how Monty felt but he didn’t. Ben was able to have Quinn take the fall for him. “That sucks. I believe you, I won’t read up on it. Gossip Girl isn’t on my radar unless she’s talking about me.” It was true, he only was interested if he saw himself on the blog. He would’ve warned this woman to stay away from here if he saw her first. The Upper East Side eats people up and spits them out. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s nice to see someone who wants to help out around here.” 

quinnxarchibald‌:

A small part of Quinn felt happy when he saw the sad look in Ben’s eyes as the words best friends were said. That mean part of him liked knowing that the other male was suffering too. A bigger part of him though hated seeing his former friend so upset and wanted to do something to make things right. Smiling, Quinn nodded. “Even if I did want to punch you, Chessie would have my head if I did. She’d probably kill me and throw my body in a snow bank.” He half joked, knowing, deep down, that if Chessie were to kill him it would be a lot worse tha that. “I could definitely go for a truce shot though, now that you mention it.” Quinn replied. He knew he probably shouldn’t drink more but the thought of having some sort of connection to Ben made him want to follow along with whatever plan the brunet might have.

The problem was, if Quinn were to punch him again, he’d punch back. Between the mixture of alcohol and pride, he’d always keep defending himself. It didn’t matter that he loved Quinn like a brother. So he was relieved Quinn wasn’t going to go at him again. He still wanted to keep his distance for now. This was too easy, and he knew everything wasn’t going to be resolved but for an hour or two, he’d feel less guilty. He asked the bartender for two shots of vodka before returning his attention towards Quinn. “To punching each other in the face.” He toasted. 

☯✉

send me a ☯ for a youtube video or vine about your muse from my muse

(x), (x), (x), (x), (x), (x), (x), (x) he is adam in this vine

send me a ✉ for three texts from my muse to yours

[the og rowan]  we have a lot to catch up on.[the og rowan] i’m glad to see you aren’t letting the ues get to you.[…][the og rowan] can you help me have a white christmas?? do you still do that? do the fight club rules still apply?

Bemelman’s was always full of tourists who wanted in on a hitting up the bar scene. To Ben, that was perfect. He was tired of the looks, the whispers. He told himself he didn’t care about any of that, but that was far from the truth."I’m over everyone staring at me,” He mumbled, looking at the drink in front of him. “Tell me something though,” He said, turning his whole body with him as he spoke. “Why does beer always taste a lot better from the bottle rather than from the tap? I feel like I’m drinking expired apple juice.” He noted, giving his head a shake in disappointment.

✉ ☯

send me a ☯ for a youtube video or vine about your muse from my muse

Their ex-friendship: (x)

Them now: (x)

send me a ✉ for three texts from my muse to yours

[text to quinn archibald]: i’m not sure you’re gonna get this. how does international work?[text to quinn archibald:] i’m in italy rn. spur of the moment trip.[text to quinn archibald]: uhh good luck. 

rowan-tandel‌:

send me a ★ for a facebook status from my muse to yours

send me a ☂ for three tweets from my muse directed at your muse

send me a ▲ for an instagram picture from my muse about your muse

send me a ✿ for a snapchat from my muse to yours

send me a ☯ for a youtube video or vine about your muse from my muse

send me a ☏ for one voicemail left by my muse on your muse’s phone

send me a ✉ for three texts from my muse to yours

arlovasquez‌:

“Oh my god, the Looney Toons movie. I honestly forgot that existed. Or maybe I just thought it was some type of fever dream I had as a kid.” Arlo shrugged at Ben’s question, taking another sip. “They used polished metals and shit like that before mirrors were actually around. I don’t think they’re as good as what we have now, but I guess people would make do?”

"That movie was definitely made by people who were high,” he said with a chuckle. Thank God he didn’t live back then. Yeah, he’s one of those hipsters who thinks he could live without technology but not without a mirror. He needed to see himself when he put his hair into a bun. He had a hard time doing it without a mirror. “That’s weird. I’m glad we live in the present rather than the Rennaissance. I would’ve hated having no mirror.”

monty-santos‌:

“I’ve been back since the day after Freya’s funeral, I couldn’t be a ticket back in time,” Monty sighed, a shadow passing over his face as he had yet another reminder of all the death that had decided to come for his family this year.  And while he tried to push the unexpected pangs of grief back tot he back of his head, Monty knew that it was still probably written all over his face.  “I actually don’t really drink anymore, to be honest. I mean, I’m still working on completely stopping, but I actually converted to Buddhism and it’s greatly looked down upon since you’re supposed to abstain from things that can cloud the mind. But I will take any other recommendations that you’ve got.  Are you planning on going to France at some point soon?” he asked, mostly out of curiosity.  “I’ve gotten the word out and a few people have.  Sheridan, I don’t know if you’ve met her yet, actually donated what I’m pretty sure was about half a Target.  So it helps, there’s just also need for more.”

He had heard things, heard about people dying but they could’ve been just rumors. Unfortunately, they weren’t. “Shit, you’re really a Buddhist now? What do you do if you don’t drink now?” He asked, thoroughly confused. “I don’t know if I can recommend anything else since that counts out everything else,” Ben was always into clouding his judgment, “I’m not sure when we’re going to go back. I have some things to do here and then hopefully that’ll be one of the first stops.” He was optimistic that they wouldn’t be here for too long. “Nope, I haven’t met her yet,” He actually didn’t mind being out of the loop abroad but now that he was home, he was curious about everything. “At least someone’s helping out that’s got the money.”

chessieabernathy‌:

“Quinn didn’t hit you so hard you forgot why everyone stayed over last night, right?“ She pointed out the obvious, nodding to the snow piled up on the terrace. Chessie paused for a moment, before grumbling as she sat her mug on the counter with a dramatic thud. “Fine,” Her resolve didn’t last long.The desire to smoke easily outweighed the desire to stay inside. “I’ll go put on pants,” she grumbled as she walked away, leaving him to return to her room and change. It only took a moment – Swapping her robe for a pair of sweats and an old Yale sweatshirt, pack of cigarettes and lighter in hand. Holding them up for him to see, Chessie gave him a smirk. “Happy now?”

Was that anyone that didn’t hear about that? “I know why everyone had to stay over, I remember most of the night,” He knew there were some fuzzy moments but for the most part, he remembered the big details like getting punched in the face. Ben poured himself a cup of coffee as he waited for her to come back out, changed appropriately for the weather. He took a sip before she returned and then greeted her with a nod. “As happy as I’ll ever be,” He teased, before heading towards the door. It was a lot colder than he expected but he figured he’d warm up soon as soon as his cigarette was lit. “So did anything eventful happen last night? Besides Quinn taking a sucker punch at me?” It wasn’t an Upper East Side party without shit happening. 

quinnxarchibald‌:

Listening to Ben’s words, Quinn tilted his head to the side a bit, trying to think of what to say. Unable to stop his brain to mouth filter from working, he began to reply. “I can’t just forget it.” He admitted, shaking his head. “I can’t forget that we punched each other just like I can’t forget what you did and I can’t forget that we used to be best friends. Forgetting about it isn’t going to solve anything.” Quinn finished, wincing inwardly at the fact that he’d actually said that. He’d been planning on just agreeing and walking away. 

His heart sank at the mention of best friends. They were best friends, two peas in a pod. That was before he decided to up and leave, a spur of the moment decision. “I know,” He finally admitted. He still didn’t want to do this here. Not when he still wasn’t ready. “Let's just try not to punch each other inside of O and Chessie’s place anymore.” He suggested. “I regret punching you back,” He said with a sigh. That was a step in the right direction at least. “I just wasn’t expecting it.” So maybe he shouldn’t have ignored the whole part about the two of them being best friends but how was he even supposed to begin that conversation? “So how about a truce shot or two?”

kirbcy‌:

“Then don’t,” Bishop said with a jerk of his head. The word help ground under Bishop’s skin and he laughed, shaking his head, his hand splaying as he gestured. “I don’t want or need your help, Vanderbilt. I’ll say it again, just because you married a blood relative of him, that doesn’t mean anything. Water is thicker than blood for you two, that’s clear. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. I don’t trust either of you, so just save me the bullshit. You want to small talk, fine, but don’t pretend like you give a shit about me.” Bishop was tired of the fake friends and fake shit, at least when people unbridledly hated him he knew that it was real.

He was right to not trust Ben. Ben wasn’t trustworthy, he knew that. He wished that life was too short to hold grudges because he knew people had plenty of them against him. And now, Bishop was one of them. “Look, I’m not here to be all buddy-buddy with you,” So maybe at first he was but not now. “I mean I’m not pretending. You are King’s little brother whether you acknowledge it or not,” And he did care about family, “I give plenty of shits about you.” How did Ben even express that he cared? “I know shit is fucked right now and we were never really close but let me hear about your problems. Hell, take all your problems out on me.”