Arlovasquez‌:

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.”

duchessb‌:

   “They might let them believe in Santa longer then. Beer is more accessible to most father’s sitting around wrapping presents for kids. And to be honest let’s think about this… children with dads did have a Santa Klaus if you think about it because it’s some man who drinks and shows up to give you presents and acts like he’s owed something for it.” A shrug lifts Beau’s shoulders as she glances over to Ben, pursing her lips for a moment. She wasn’t sure what caused her to go off on that tangent, but she could blame Chessie’s plying her with Champagne, if nothing else.

“Or their father might just tell them the truth.” That’s what Ben’s dad did after he moped one too many times about not being able to see Santa deliver gifts. “Good for them for still being able to wrap nicely. Maybe we should just be getting rid of the Santa myth and giving the load of work to dads. ” Were all dads that fucked up? “Yeah, that’s the difference between milk and beer. Milk makes Santa seem so pure, I guess and beer makes me think he has an alcohol problem.” Ben said with a shrug. “At least if he was having champagne, it’d make me think he was a man of superior taste.”

kirbcy‌:

“Perhaps,” Bishop said with a lilt of his voice, “people wouldn’t be ‘at your throats’ if the choices that you both made were the ones that didn’t fuck over the people that loved you both. Sorry for holding both of you accountable for your shit actions when you decided to fuck family right in the ass.” Bishop decided that he didn’t like him. He used to worship his sister, in a weird way – a way where it was the two of them against the world, where he could count on her to take him into consideration. It turned out that she had zero issue burning him like everyone and disappearing into the void without a care in the world. He bristled against the other man attempting to do what he wasn’t sure. “Don’t presume you know even an ounce of my feelings toward my sister. Those don’t include you. But here’s a food for thought, maybe if she really loved me, she would have reached out. I’m glad she found someone to indulge in cowardice with, though.”

“I”m not here to argue with you,” He understood that Bishop was hurting, he understood that completely. “I think it speaks volumes that we came back,” He insisted. “You’re hurt, I get it. But don’t take it out on me. Or her. Both of us are human, I’ve made plenty of mistakes before,” He felt like he was walking on eggshells around the younger Kirbey, not wanting to them to argue. He couldn’t do that to King. “And I’m sorry that you’re hurt. But I can’t help if you at least don’t let me reach out. I think small talk’s better than nothing.”

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?”

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[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. 

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. 

arlovasquez‌:

“I’ve travelled quite a bit, actually. Did some before I turned twenty-one and it was one of the best decisions of my life.” Arlo paused, looking around the room a moment before bringing his attention back. “I mean I still travel when I get the chance to, but it’s less frequent now.”

“Same. Out of all the places, I have to say Greece was the best out of all the places I’ve visited. It was warm there,” which he was a huge fan of, “I married my wife there, and there were stray dogs everywhere. Do you know how many times I wanted to take home a dog?” He asked rhetorically. “Have you ever been piss drunk in the middle of Venice before? It’s pretty dangerous.”

oatanas‌:

After having been out of town on a business trip the last two weeks, O was in desperate need of a night off. The crowd of people in her house was less than ideal (she always preferred to be a party goer, rather than a party host) but she tried not to dwell on that. “Just so you’re aware, if you spill that on my white rug I will kill you,” she remarked, topping up the glass of the guest in question, only half joking.

He thought he was a pretty great house guest so far. Ben always took his shoes off when he entered. So when he requested a drink and basically got reprimanded, he wanted to at least give a sassy remark back. That’s what people did around here. However, he knew better. He was just lucky he had a place to stay. “I can hold my liquor, don’t worry,” Alcohol tasted different overseas and felt a lot more strong, “I’ll be willing to act as security for this party if you’d like. Even one glance at this rug, and they’re out of here.” He was only half joking as well. He’d do it to show his gratitude. “How was your trip?” Ben asked, trying to make conversation.

monty-santos‌:

“I never made it down to Greece, but I’ve heard that it’s amazing,” Monty nodded with a smile, “But it’s really not surprising if you look at how big all of Europe was, not to mention we probably were in very different places if we did happen to be around the same area,” he pointed out with a shrug, “But that’s good, King’s pretty great. Did you two travel together after that?”

“It’s one of my favorite places in the world. The ocean’s so damn blue there, especially compared to the crappy Hudson. But you can’t flush toilet paper cause their piping system is too old. That was something that was hard to remember when I was drunk,” Ben disclosed to the other man. “You could’ve been the third wheel if you wanted,” He proposed, “Pretty much, yeah. She somehow was able to put up with me for that long.” He let a slight chuckle out but it was true. Ben was honestly a mess when he ran into her.