Finnsmythe‌:

He felt like human wrapping paper wearing his festive suit. If he was put under the tree, he could probably have passed as a present. When he was younger, he loved Christmas. Well, until his father told him that Santa wasn’t real. He was still trying to adjust back into the Upper East Side party manner. At least he had alcohol as a social lubricant. “You know kids in England leave Santa some beer. Do they not think he could get drunk?” He asked, “Imagine consuming that much alcohol in a minimal amount of time. He wouldn’t legally be allowed to fly that sleigh.”

wrenabernathy‌:

Wren felt like an outsider - and it felt strange. He’d mostly been observing the other people, laughing and drinking in the atmosphere of the holidays, and Wren was usually a sucker for events like that, but everything had been clouded with misery the last few days. Still, he’d resolved himself to get over it, to make himself happy without Quinn waiting for him somewhere, because if he wanted his relationship with Nathalie to work that’s what it would take. Didn’t mean it was easy, though. “I would guess that if Santa has the ability to visit all homes across the world in a single night, he also has the ability to not get drunk,” he replied dryly as he faced Ben. 

He wished that Wren at least entertained his comment. “Or maybe that makes him work even faster. You’d be surprised what others think they can do when they’re that inebriated,” When he was abroad and that drunk, he felt invincible. Maybe a fictional character would feel the same. “It’s just interesting to think that children are very adamant about putting out beer. And here we’re all about milk.” He said with a shrug. “Would you rather have beer or milk?”

oatanas‌:

Finally, O looked up from her phone and at Ben. “Look, I appreciate that you’re trying but at this point it’s a waste of breath,” she leveled with him. She wasn’t trying to be harsh and brush him off, she was just trying to be honest. “You’ve gotta know that being in King’s dog house automatically puts you in mine too, right?” King was the only thing that really held them together, after all. A few weeks ago O had been willing to get to know Ben as a person rather than just an extension of King but right now? It was back burnered. “Not that I think you need reminding, but you really hurt her.” 

He didn’t need another lecture. He didn’t need to be reminded about how much he hurt his wife. He knew that, and it hurt him thinking about how badly he hurt King. “I know what I did.” He stated, “But I’m trying to make things right. It can’t be like this for forever.” He knew her cooperation wasn’t going to happen. However, he appreciated how there she was for King. He wished he had a friend like that. He did actually until he fucked it up. “Do you know how hard it is to get the silent treatment from the one person you love? It sucks. I thought food would be a common thing to bring us all together.” 

seboriley‌:

“Dude, I’m kidding,” Sebastian assures, a little laugh bubbling up his throat as he tries to soften the blow. “What, they don’t bust your balls in Europe like they do in the good ‘ol U-S of A? We still got that on ‘em?” He offers a clipped but not insincere thanks, grabbing the handle of the knife and working it through a lime. “Well, might as well have some. No point in wasting a perfectly good lime. But if we’re going all out, we gotta find the salt…” He starts pulling open cabinets with reckless abandon, finally catching sight of a shaker and pulling it out. “’Kay. Lick your hand, Benny boy.”

He was always a wound up drunk. He did things he wasn’t supposed to and got angry at useless things. However, he was going to laugh this one off. “No one in Europe even has a sense of humor,” He joked. He waited patiently for the salt that Sebastian was looking to discover. “Too bad we aren’t taking body shots.” He hadn’t done that in years. It seemed like a younger Ben thing to do, especially when he was crossfaded. “To the New Year,” He cheered before he moistened the back of his hand. He poured the salt on his hand and licked it, realizing that his hands were probably pretty gross. Oh well. Germs take a break on New Year’s Eve. He threw his head back as he took the tequila shot. He then began to suck on his lime. “I’m ready to do another one, not gonna lie.”

@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.

quinnxarchibald‌:

Quinn startled for a second as Ben changed the subject. He looked up at the brunet, eyes widening slightly. “Yeah, yeah I heard about that.” He replied. He’d wanted to reach out to his former friend, wanted to make sure that Ben was okay but he hadn’t. Not out of malice but because he had no idea what to say. He wanted to talk about it but even now it seemed that the other male didn’t want to. “Yeah, the 80s definitely seemed a lot simpler. They had their problems though. I guess there have to be trade offs.” Quinn said before adding softly “How are you doing? After everything?”

It was hard with Quinn. He wanted to tell Quinn every single problem that he was having. It felt natural to do that, and yet he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t have that part in Quinn’s life anymore thanks to his own mistakes. It was hard to not have anyone to talk to. “I’m glad we’re just not still having a big hair trend. That seemed horrible,” He said with a sigh of relief. With Quinn’s question, he immediately opened his mouth up but stopped himself from saying anything. They weren’t best friends, they were estranged best friends. He couldn’t tell her anything, could he? Not when he hadn’t even apologized yet. “I’m fine. Things are a bit tense with King but I guess that happens when you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of it.

monty-santos‌:

“I guess that we’ve got some very different philosophies there because I don’t think that I do anything just to see if I actually can,” Monty chuckled, though that was really a concept that he’d never really been a fan of.  He’d always been the kind of person who never really thought to take more than he needed.  “Just because he did that doesn’t mean that the history isn’t here. And I think everyone would rather not have the tourists here, but it’s just a part of living in New York. You just have to find the best places to hide from them.”

Monty was way too good. A part of him wanted to see if he could corrupt him but another part of him wanted Monty to always remain the same. It was a mystery to him how Monty was raised here and yet he was so freaking good and innocent. Ben could not relate. “I always like to do things that people tell me I can’t do. Reverse psychology works too well on me.” He admitted with a chuckle. “It’s just annoying when they stop in the middle of the street,” Ben said with frustration.“Have you ever been to Dive 75? I bet tourists don’t go there.” 

taterodriguez‌:

Tate sipped at their vodka soda, crossing their legs as they allowed their self to get comfortable in their current location, knowing full well it would take a lot to pry Tate from the kitchen.  It was quiet, it was away from the typical crowd that swarmed Upper East Side parties, and there was free alcohol.  As Ben Vanderbilt came into their view, it had been like seeing a ghost.  It took a lot out of Tate to offer pleasantries but they had been unsure if Ben had been fully aware of Tate’s knowledge on his situation with Quinn.

“Honestly, never thought I’d see your face again after you left.”  Tate tried to remain civil, because it was clear he didn’t have bad intentions.  “You’re staying here with O?  Why?  I didn’t know you guys were that close,” Tate gave a raise of their brow.  O hadn’t mentioned that Ben Vanderbilt had been staying in their home.  “Honestly,” Tate chuckled before admitting.  “Hiding.  I came for the free booze and to see O because I feel like I haven’t seen her in ages.”  Tate sipped their vodka soda again.  “I mean, it’s a free world.  I’m not one to stop you.”

He was a runner. If something wasn’t going his way, he’d leave. If he was on the verge of getting in major trouble, he’d board the next flight to Europe. It just who he was. “Yeah, well, I had to come. Not because I wanted to,” He wanted to make sure that was clear, “But because I had to. I guess I just have some unfinished business. How about you? What have you been up to?” He asked in an effort to make small talk. 

Ben then nodded at them, “You’re not wrong, we really aren’t close. My wife’s pretty close to her so she’s letting us stay here for a bit. This place is pretty nice compared to where I’ve been living these past few years,” He admitted. “O’s not in here if that narrows down your rooms to find her in,” There was a bit of joking in his voice. “This is the part where you’re supposed to tell me, of course, you wouldn’t mind. But, uh, I get it.”