Oatanas‌:

arlovasquez‌:

“I’d have a hard time not taking a dog home and making my roommates upset by not asking them,” Arlo said with a chuckle. “I’ve never been piss drunk anywhere. I don’t get drunk all that often. High, though? Oh I’ve been stoned out of my mind at the Louvre once. That was a trip.” 

“I would’ve if we didn’t move around a lot, that wouldn’t have been fun for the dog. Trust me, though, it was very tempting,” Ben knew about being stoned all too well. He’s been way more than stoned at a lot of points in his life. “Getting crossfaded is the best. I highly recommend it. Shit, did you see the Mona Lisa high? That’s amazing.”

arlovasquez‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

She wasn’t sure if it was the coke itself, or the mixture of it with the alcohol – But it didn’t take long for Chessie to feel the effects, smile at her lips. At the sight of Arlo dong his first line, she clapped for him, genuinely proud of him while in this state. “Don’t listen to Ben,” she gives the other man a pointed look, before using the last of the bag to cut three more lines once the mirror made its way back to her. “S’easier than you’d think.” Chessie confirms with a nod, before taking the bill from Ben, inhaling the line with ease. The burn is gone, now. Her face is numb, but Chessie hardly notices, letting her head fall onto Arlo’s shoulder, hand absentmindedly fiddling with the leather harness he was wearing. “Have you guys ever tried like – Speedballing?” She questions after a beat, words slurring. “I tried to get more blow from Ro, but he was being a fuckhead, so I ended up talking to this random guy at the snack table — And he sold me this shit for like,” she pauses for a moment, train of thought briefly lost as she tries to recount the price. “I’unno, but it’s supposed to be good shit.” 

In the few brief moments that passed, Arlo could feel the effects of the cocaine on his body. He could feel the seconds his pupil’s dilated and his body temperature rising; his heart beat also picked up. But he didn’t feel any different than before, just more secure in himself. 

“The masters, eh? It’s nice to learn from someone who knows what they’re doing. When I first started smoking pot, I had no fucking clue what to do,” he said with a chuckle. “But here we are!” 

Arlo cocked his head, turning to Chessie again. “Speedballing? Isn’t that when it’s an upper and a downer mixed or some shit?” 

“Always listen to me, okay? I’m always right.” Ben insisted. “This is a lot better than pot.” Ben pointed out. Doing coke was like no other sensation in the world. He couldn’t believe he was away from it for so long. He then watched Chessie inhale as the cocaine settled into his system. 

“I don’t know what you call it down south but I’ve always heard it’s called a Powerball,” He teased with a shrug. Speedballing was definitely the more popular name. He had never particularly speedballed, mainly because he was not that experimentative with his drugs. Once he found cocaine, he knew that was pretty much his calling. Nevertheless, he knew what she meant. “Rowan didn’t give you more? That’s fucked up.” He exclaimed, clearly a bit out of it. “This other guy must be a superhero.” 

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.”

Shit’s fucked. Which was why Ben was spending so muchctime away from O’s place. He knew King was upset with him. He should’ve known what vices he’d get into as soon as he stepped on the dirty concrete for the first time in two years. Now, he was right near Central Park, a place he hadn’t been to in years, looking at The Pond. Ben was extremely neurotic but sometimes watching water calmed him down to a certain extent. His impulsiveness pretty much trumped everything else. 

“Is it acceptable to go skinny dipping in January?” The lake looked a bit gross, but he’d do it. “I’ll give these tourists something that they’ll really remember.” Due to global warming, the body of water was pretty peaceful looking right now with no signs of ice. “I’d suggest going ice skating but I don’t think that’d work.” 

@kingkirbey

Being here just made the knot in his stomach worse than it had been at overseas. He’d much rather be in Greece right now, having a Piraiki than stupid liquor. He was supposed to be tying up lose ends and potentially making amends with Quinn. That shit didn’t work. Now he just felt like a spineless asshole. And when shit hit the fan, he just needed King. Ben spit onto his shirt, trying to get the blood out once he found her for the dramatic effect. “That didn’t go well,” He admitted as he looked at his wife, “I just got pummeled by Quinn. I didn’t even know he was capable of doing that,” Ben sighed as he looked past her, “Can you please tell me again why this was a good idea?” His question was geniune, the purpose of their arrival blurred over the fact that his friendship with Quinn seemed broken beyond repair.

taterodriguez‌:

“Parties in the Upper East Side are the only good thing about Manhattan,” Tate had grown to detest Manhattan and everything it had stood for.  The drama and politics of it all had grown to be too much and sometimes they wish they had been able to abandon it all and leave the way Monty and Ben had done, but they had unfortunately set roots here.  “Honestly, don’t let them get to you.  They feed off of drama so just don’t give it to them.”  Tate gave a shrug of their shoulders before sipping their vodka.  “Don’t be a stranger, I’ve heard the food is pretty good.”  Tate boasted playfully.  “Only since you haven’t had the chance to taste my food.”

“King?”  Tate hadn’t been able to keep track of people these days especially if they hadn’t been around since their days of Nightingale Prep.  “Why does that name sound familiar? – Anyway, congratulations.  I’ll drink to that,” Tate chuckled before finishing their vodka.  “Please, I’ll never say no to that.”

"Have you been to SantaCon? That comes in a close second,” He had never been but he heard about it. People dressed in Christmas gear while drinking. Now that sounded like a good time. Tate was giving some good advice, advice that Ben should probably listen to. However, most of the time, information went in one ear and out the other for him. “It’s hard not to when I guess I’m this drama filled apparently,” He confessed to them. “I’m sure it is,” Was it as good as the food he had abroad, though? That was the real test. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“King Kirbey, she’s the hot blonde at this party,” He pointed out, shocked they didn’t know exactly who she was. “And she’s Bishop’s sister,” He added, seeing if it would ring any bells. “Thanks, I’ll drink to that too,” He decided. “How about we skip the chaser and go right for some shots?” Ben suggested. 

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. 

monty-santos‌:

“Yeah, just talk to my father, or Buffy Seymour and you’ll find that I’m really not that popular of a person,” Monty shrugged, shaking his head a little ad the idea, “Yeah, I guess that I was? I mean I was mostly doing volunteer work, so it’s hard to be mad at someone doing that.”

“I’ll pass on both of those people, thanks though,” He couldn’t imagine ever disliking Monty. Monty showed that there was actually a chance that good people could be raised around here. He wasn’t one of those good people, but it was nice to know that there was at least one. “I don’t wanna be too presumptuous but I also feel like you had to have been a responsible nice guy out there. I think the French like that in a person. It shows you have a strong character.” Maybe it was the buzz that was making Ben turn into Dr. Phil.

quinnxarchibald‌:

Quinn couldn’t believe that this was happening, that this was his life. If it had been any other day or any other event, he might have played it cool, acted like none of this bothered him. Tonight though, with alcohol running through his veins, Quinn didn’t care about the consequences. As soon as Ben spoke, as soon as he tried to act as if nothing had happened, as if the past two years were nothing, Quinn saw red. Before he knew it, he’d already drawn his his fist back before letting it connect with Ben’s face. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He practically yelled as he took a step back from Ben, mind still reeling. He couldn’t believe that Ben would walk in here acting like he hadn’t ruined Quinn’s life, like he hadn’t just disappeared and left Quinn to fight on his own.

He knew Quinn pretty well. Ben thought his own face was safe. “Fuck,” He said, cupping his face as soon as he felt the skin split open. He wasn’t sure what the hell to do now. Ben wasn’t going to hit him back, not when he deserved it. However, a part of him felt his fists tensing up. They were supposed to be talking this out, not using their fists. 

Ben wiped off the blood on his white cuffs, not caring if he ruined them or not. He should’ve blended in with the damn walls as soon as he spotted Quinn. He always pinned Quinn as a lover and not a fighter. That shows how much he knew about him now. He wanted to egg Quinn on more, knowing that he deserved it. A part of him hoped he’d feel less guilty once Quinn was done. But what was a good fight without Ben at least hitting him once? As soon as Benjamin made contact with Quinn’s, he immediately regretted it. “Shit, are you alright?”