chessieabernathy‌:

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:

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.

finnsmythe‌:

“Dude, seriously? ‘Probably hard for Americans to grasp?’ Don’t be so fucking pretentious,” Finn rolled his eyes. “And you are American if you forgot that fact,” he said and took a sip of his own drink. “I’m not surprised you brought beer by the way. Not after your rant at O’s Christmas party.”

Of course, Finn had to something to say about this. The Golden Boy that Ben’s mother wishes she biologically had rather than a runaway fuck up. However, he bit his tongue. “It’s been about two years since I’ve celebrated New Year’s here. It’s a bit different in other places.” He wasn’t even buzzed enough to be completely honest towards the other man. “Why didn’t you bring beer too?” He asked, “We could’ve had a competition,” Ben offered, remembering their conversation at O’s, “How’s that drink of yours treating you?” 

arlovasquez‌:

The days crawled by with little to no brightness to them; not in a physical sense but within his mind. Everything to Arlo was bleak and dark. He hadn’t smoked, painted, or done anything productive in days. This was the first day he’d actually gotten the motivation to put on regular clothes and head out for a walk.

And he walked for hours because he knew if he stopped, he wouldn’t want to keep going. But he needed to get something to drink, so he stepped inside a small coffee shop of 34th and ordered a black coffee, setting his stuff on a table near the window and gazing out.

“Fuck.”

It was just by coincidence that he had spotted Arlo. In fact, Ben wouldn’t dare set his feet in a “hipster” coffee shop. He was too good for New York Hipsters. However, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Arlo. Before he could stop himself, he was inside. And approaching the other man. 

“Arlo.” He stated, “You look worse than I do.” He wanted to ask how he was since everything went down. He hadn’t spoken much to anyone since the arrest. Maybe that was because he was also keeping himself in isolation. “How are you?” He finally blurted after the internal struggle his brain was creating inside. “How’s your place since everything went down?” He didn’t remember much about the cops coming in but he figured it would’ve been left a mess from them at least.

@oatanas

It wasn’t fun living with two people who seemed pretty mad at him. He knew why King was mad at him. But O too? He wasn’t used to living with two pissed off women. If she was here, Chessie would’ve spoken to him. Or at least he assumed she would. He was tired of all of the awkwardness. He just wanted to break the silence with O. There was only so much quietness that he could take before he felt like he was going to explode. He was desperate for interaction. “You know, one of these days, I could make gyros for all of us. Have you ever had one?” It was a Greek dish that had made it’s way to the states, but he didn’t know her eating habits. “As a thank you for letting me stay here.” He added. He was staying here on free room and board. Who knew how long that was going to last?

@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. 

arlovasquez‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie barely heard what they said, eyes closing for a moment to silently pray the room would stop spinning. Her head turned towards Arlo as he stood, a hand reaching out to her. She took far too long to respond, before a smile finds her, and she’s on her feet. “We should dance,” she repeats the words back with a nod, an arm wrapping around Arlo’s middle in an attempt to keep herself upright. Leaning against him, she danced along with him – Or at least, attempted to. 

Being unable to feel her face wasn’t something uncommon for her, but this time around – It kept her from noticing the nose bleed that had begun somewhere between getting up, and the moment she noticed blood dripping onto her dress. “Shit,” she began, half stepping away from him to wipe her nose with the back of her hand. “Oh, fuck – This dress is – Shit.” She slurred, spewing half sentences as panic began to settle in. “Shit..” Chessie grumbled once more, free hand landing on Arlo’s shoulder, in an attempt to steady herself. It’s unclear how much time as passed, before she opens her eyes once more. “I just – Need to sit.” With a nod, she lets go of him, managing to stumble a foot away, before her eyes rolled back and shit hit the ground, unconscious. 

Dancing was supposed to be a fun idea; something to keep energy up. At least, that was Arlo’s intentions.

 When Chessie pulled away he looked to her, confused.There was a pattern of crimson on her dress that trailed from her nose. “Chessie, are you okay?” He asked her. But she didn’t answer him - only ranted about the dress for a moment before putting her hand back on his shoulder. She was like that for only a few seconds before walking away and falling.

Arlo didn’t react at first. As his eyes dropped with her, he merely stood there and observed her. “Chessie?” He called out after a few moments of silence. “You okay?” 

When she didn’t respond he approached her body and knelt done, putting two fingers over her neck. The pulse was there but weak. 

 Arlo looked up in panic, knowing something terrible had happened, probably something to do with the speedball they just did. 

 “I think she overdosed Ben. We need to get help!”

He didn’t realize anything serious was happening until he saw her hit the ground. That wasn’t supposed to happen. And it’s not like she’d be playing dead or whatever. Ben crawled towards her and Arlo,.

This was it. A repeat of what had happened before. Why did this always happen to him? And this was another reason why he didn’t want to come back. It wasn’t fun watching someone overdose right in front of you. This time it was different, he knew her. Hell, he lived with her. And there were no cops beating down the door. 

He then looked at Arlo before looking down at her. 

“We gotta call 911,” He insisted as he reached into his pockets to find his phone. They were in no state to drive her. His hands were shaking, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the drugs or nerves. The EMTs would probably be more worried about her than the drugs, thankfully. “Here you talk to them, I don’t know your address.” He handed his phone to Arlo. There was a lump forming in his throat, wondering if she was even going to be okay.

taterodriguez‌:

Tate was sure that when he spoke of unfinished business to attend to that it had something to do with Quinn and that Tate would get some type of earful about it later this evening.  “That doesn’t sound fun,” Tate said simply.  “You should come to a party because you want to, not because you feel like you have to.  It’s an opportunity to have fun and let loose,” Tate sipped from their glass again.  “Honestly.  Not a whole lot.  Running a restaurant, writing books, you know… nothing too exciting.”

“Wife?  You’re married?”  Tate gave a raise of their brow.  The last thing Tate would’ve expected Ben to return home with was a wife, if at all.  “I mean, O has a pretty big heart, so that doesn’t surprise me at all.  It’s good that you had somewhere to stay when you got back, though.”  Tate should get an award for the amount of civility they’ve been able to maintain because they’d imagined the day that Ben had the gall to return and what would happen.  But, they’d leave that to their brother.  “I’m sure she’ll find me somewhere,” Tate chuckled.  “I don’t mind.  You’re more than welcome to stay.”

“I haven’t been in the partying mood since I’ve been back here,” He admitted, “I’ll make a real appearance when I’m ready. I’m not prepared for all of the questions that people are going to ask,” They were so accomplished compared to Ben. All he did was travel, meanwhile, they had been doing actual shit. “Good for you. I’ll have to try out the restaurant one of these days. Although, I’m expecting some sort of special treatment when I’m there,” He was fully joking, he figured no one around here would ever give him special treatment again. Especially if Tate knew what he did to Quinn. 

He forgot that not everyone knew that. “Yeah, thanks to the dude that officiated it in Greece, he married me and King,” They arrived in New York without securing a place to live so it was really lucky that O took both of them in. “Thank you, I appreciate that. Do you want another drink?”

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.”

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[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?