Monty-santos‌:

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.” 

what's it like being back in the city?

“It’s starting to feel like I never left. Shit goes down around here that wouldn’t happen anywhere else.” Sometimes he felt like New York was suffocating. “And it wasn’t this cold in some areas of Europe.”

monty-santos‌:

“I don’t know, not all mall Santas are that way.  Or I”m assuming, I don’t actually know,” Monty shrugged, though he couldn’t really imagine places hiring drunks for a job that required them to be around children all day, “I don’t think so, it’s jsut for the donkey.  Though any kid who sends letters to Santa gets a response, which I think is pretty cool.” 

He was just going by the reputation that mall Santas had. They were always a version of a bum. “Who the hell is writing all of those letters back to those kids?” Someone had way too much time on their hands. “I think France should be focusing on other things, if it were up to me,” Then again he wasn’t in the French Parliament. “I spent some time there, I would know. They also aren’t huge fans of Americans, especially when I told them that I was from the City.” 

finnsmythe‌:

“I didn’t know that, but that’s super interesting,” he said, sipping his own drink. “Maybe Santa can’t get drunk. Maybe because he’s immortal, his body temperature is too high and just burns off the alcohol immediately.” Finn was probably thinking too much into it. “If Santa goes to America first, though, he’ll have a nice cookie base to soak it up. I’m pretty sure the reindeer do most of the flying anyway.”

A part of him was a bit jealous of Finn. Not that he’d ever show it. Ben didn’t get jealous. He didn’t even tell his mother that he was back nor did he feel the need to. If anything, he pitied Finn. Yep, that was it. “He’d go to the UK first, South and North America are the last places that he goes to. At least that’s what it says on the Santa Tracker every year. He’d probably mix up gifts and things once he arrived over here,” It felt weird talking about an imaginary figure. He wanted to ask how his mom was. However, Ben looked down at his feet instead. “How’s... your drink? How’s your drink?” He asked, much more smoothly the second time. 

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.”

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?” 

buffy-seymour‌:

Buffy didn’t check the weather before leaving for the party, but judging by the all-encompassing white outside the window and the severe weather alert currently overtaking her phone, she should have. With a sigh she turned from the window and crossed her arms. This was not a hiccup she planned for. There wasn’t even any dry shampoo in the small bag she brought for essentials (make up wipes, powder, blush, mascara, lipstick). Looking over at her companion, Buffy chuckled. “I wasn’t dreaming of a white Christmas party. Were you?”

He sipped on his Gin Fizz, as he watched Buffy turn towards him. Either way, he would’ve been here tonight. It wasn’t like he really minded staying here anyways. He was enjoying himself at O and Chessie’s place in general. Well, when he wasn’t moping around and dreaming about Europe. “Not really, I wouldn’t have minded a green Christmas,” He said with a shrug. “The City seems to recover pretty quickly even after the most horrible blizzards. Soon it’ll look like it didn’t even snow.”

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.” 

seboriley‌:

Sebastian decides to roll his eyes in lieu of dignifying the accent comment with a response. He has more pressing matters to deal with than perfecting his fake accent that is an awkward mish-mash of the loose-lipped slur of Rupert Grint’s accent and the prim, articulated poshness of Emma Watson’s. Not that prioritizing has ever been Sebastian’s strong suit. “I’ll stop complaining so much when you give me less to complain about, how ‘bout that?” Sebastian retorts just after a little scoff jumps up his throat. “Got ‘em,” Seb cheers, snagging a bag of lemons and limes from the bottom drawer of the fridge. “Find me a knife?”

“For the record, no one’s making you talk to me.” Ben was over pleasing everyone around him. He did that when he was under the Vanderbilt rule, which caused him to virtually live a double life. He didn’t care about pleasing Sebastian or giving him things to complain about. He started digging through Arlo’s kitchen, hopefully, he wouldn’t mind. Finally, Ben hit the jackpot and handed the knife over to Sebastian. He didn’t trust himself to open a bag at this state. “Are you going to have a lime too or just let the tequila burn your mouth?”

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.”