Kingkirbey‌:

oatanas‌:

“Tiger doesn’t change it’s stripes, Vanderbilt,” O shrugged, “you’re still an American.” Truly she wasn’t trying to be confrontational. O did like Ben even if the only reason she gave him a second thought was King, and for the most part she didn’t comment on his Europe obsession. But sometimes she just couldn’t help herself. “Vodka sodas,” she finished off her drink before holding up the bottle she had brought and giving Ben a grin. “Wanna put away the cultured traveler look for a minute and do a shot like the rest of us?”

She was right, however, that didn’t stop him from trying to prove her wrong, “But it can change it’s eating habits.” That probably sounded grosser than he intended. Ben was trying to come up with a clever comeback but he couldn’t think of anything better than that. His thoughts were already a bit cloudy. “I’m a lot different than I was two years ago.” Okay, that probably sounded better. “Shots aren’t just an American thing,” He pointed out before giving her a nod, “Do you think Arlo’s got some Fireball or?” He asked, “I’d be down for some vodka shots but I’m gonna need a chaser.” 

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.” 

quinnxarchibald‌:

monty-santos‌:

Monty knew from what Quinn had told him at the lockin that things with Ben were going to be tense. That much was given and understandable considering the situation.  However, the last thing that he had expected to see was for Quinn to punch the other man.  And as soon as he did, he started making his way over, just not getting there fast enough to keep Ben from punching Quinn back. “Hey, both of you need to break it up, take a deep breath, and calm down,” Monty snapped as he gave Quinn a look, getting between them in hopes that he wouldn’t get hit. 

As shocked as Quinn was by the fact that he’d punched Ben, he was even more shocked when the brunet punched him back. He should have known it was coming, Ben had never been the type to go down without a fight but still, the action sent Quinn stumbling back. He let out a dry laugh at Ben’s words, trying not to start crying right then and there. Of course Ben would ask if he was alright, it was just so Ben of him. It reminded Quinn of simpler times, back before the arrest and before Ben had up and left. 

Opening his mouth to speak, Quinn was interrupted by a familiar face stepping in between them. “Monty.” He replied, suddenly feeling a bit stunned. Part of him knew that he should listen to his friend but a larger part of him wanted to go right back at it, to walk up to Ben and punch him again, to make him feel exactly how Quinn felt. Taking a step back though, Quinn raised his hands in surrender, glaring at Ben before looking back at his friend.

Monty keeping himself in between the two of them led to Ben having a realization of what he was doing. He wasn’t supposed to touch his best friend. Or ex-best friend. Whatever. Ben wanted to always protect Quinn and now he was doing the opposite. He couldn’t make eye contact with Quinn or even Monty. Instead, he just stood there soaking in what just happened. 

CLOSED.

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.” 

 quinnxarchibald‌:

“You could have done it and you know it.” Quinn responded, crossing his arms over his chest. As Ben spoke, Quinn felt a wall around himself begin to crumble. Something about the look in Ben’s eyes made him want to stop everything and comfort the brunet. He was still mad, so incredibly mad, but seeing Ben so upset always made Quinn sad. “Ben…” Quinn paused, shaking his head. “Listen. You asked me to do it but I said yes. I agreed to it. I’m not mad about that.” Quinn admitted, shaking his head. “I’m mad that you left. I was ready to deal with the aftermath but not without you.”

He shook his head, trying to convince himself that he couldn’t have reached out to Quinn. It just wouldn’t have been possible, right? “I knew shit was gonna be bad but not that bad that it’d really fuck shit up,” For once, he should’ve been thinking about Quinn too, not just himself. “I had to leave,” He knew that it didn’t make sense nor could he even explain why but he had to. “I had to. I couldn’t stay here. I needed to leave.”

chessieabernathy‌:

“I guess that’s one way of seeing it,” she grumbles, silently wishing Gossip Girl didn’t have such an effect on her. Truthfully, ever since the FREYA board told her to clean up her act, the anonymous blog has become a consistent place she visits, terrified that she’ll find a secret of hers posted. She had too many things to hide, too much to lose. “I appreciate the solidarity, thanks,” Chessie chuckled, rolling her eyes at him, happy to keep the subject moving. The mention of the bartender brings another laugh, a shoulder shrugged soon after. “Oh, well. It’ll give me a story to tell about the time he met Francesca Abernathy,” she teased, putting on her best ‘high society’ voice as she said her own name. “King may be into this –” she gestured to him, laughing lightly. “Greaser-esque look. But you just look ridiculous to me.”

Gossip Girl wasn’t really a constant in his life for the past few years, so he wasn’t going to start reading it religiously now. “I’m just looking for an excuse to do it. It’d only be acceptable if you were doing it too,” He admitted as he looked at the brunette. “People will probably melt in their boots from jealousy when they hear about you.” Ben teased. "This is the European look, not a Danny Zuko one,” He replied, motioning towards his face. “You’d know that if you lived there for as long as I did.” Ben was going to remind everyone that he was abroad at least once a day. 

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie couldn’t stop herself from staring out the window – Even though the sun had gone down, the city lights made it easy enough to see how much snow was beginning to pile onto the terrace. It made her nervous, filling her with dread as she thought of how she’d have to trek through it tomorrow morning. But rather than worry about what’s to come tomorrow, she saw it sit to enjoy herself tonight. “You look like you need a drink,” She comments easily to the person next to her, smirk on her face. “What’s a party without champagne?”

He forgot how commercialized Christmas was in America. People would die to spend Christmas in the City and yet he’d pretty much rather be anywhere but here. It sucked having a guilty conscience. He preferred warmer climates now, one that didn’t require him to wear so much clothing. How did she know? He did need a drink, especially to get through this party. “A good one,” He joked. “I can’t be the only one that thinks champagne tastes pretty awful. Do you have any craft beer?”

kirbcy‌:

The moment Blur burned down was the moment that Bishop went missing. Well, in spirit. His body was present at every meeting, his mind spewing nothing but business, curbing any condolences with a glance that kept it business. His phone was a log of unanswered messages and emails from friends and family. The only hope they had was to turn it into business and he may answer, but only in regard to business. This holiday was the first time he had been to a social event since Celia’s death, and bitterness was on his tongue just like the scotch. This was an attempt to get some bearing back on his life, despite the fact that he was not ready to face any of it. 

Benjamin found himself loosening his tie a bit before stretching out the kinks in his neck. He did not miss all of these people, but he sort of did miss the partying. Once he spotted Bishop, he walked right on over to him. He had a soft spot for the Kirbey’s for some reason.“Hey, Bishop,” He said nonchalantly. Ben didn’t want to sound like he was sucking up to his brother-in-law. Even if he was. Sue him for wanting to be liked. Wait, no, don’t sue him. “Are you enjoying yourself so far?”

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.”