Oatanas‌:

kirbcy‌:

Bishop was supposed to be nice, but the feeling of even being a little tongue in cheek had long since left his demeanor. Something about Ben, standing there, pretending to even give a little of a shit fundamentally irritated the shit out of him. “Then why are you talking to me? Because here’s the way I see it, Vanderbilt. You’re attempting to do whatever this is in attempt to smooth over the fact that you married my sister without so much as a thought to her brother who may want to fucking attend. Further, I doubt you even pushed her to talk to me, or say anything, or come the fuck home. No. You don’t get to slither into my life pretending to be a friend when you’d rather remind everyone how much you’d rather be in Europe or some bullshit. Go back then. Or at least save me the act.”

“I’m not talking to you out of guilt, trust me,” Honestly, he didn’t feel bad about not pushing King to come home. Not when he didn’t want to come home in the first place. Was New York even considered home anymore? “If it makes you feel better, no one is invited,” It was a spur of the moment thing. Ben wouldn’t have wanted a wedding with family members in attendance anyway, he liked the spontaneity. “I get it, you’re pissed at her, but she really does love you,” He reminded Bishop, “I’m talking to you because you look like you could use some company, Bishop. This party’s supposed to be fun,” This was ironic considering Ben was usually the one who was being miserable. “Oh we’ll be going back, I just have to take care of a few things first. It’s nice over there since we don’t have people at our throats all the time.” If Bishop wanted to push him away, he was going to go along with it. At least he could tell King he tried.

quinnxarchibald‌:

Quinn shook his head as he continued to pull Ben to the side, into an empty area of the house. “Nope. You’re not getting out of this. Don’t worry. I got the punching out of my system. Sorry about that by the way.” He replied, nodding toward the brunet’s face. Pausing for a moment to recollect his thoughts, Quinn continued, glaring at Ben as he did. “I’m still so fucking pissed at you. I had to hear from Gossip Girl that you were back. Do you know how shitty that is? You didn’t reach out to me once. Not even when you were back in New York. What the fuck?”

It was a shitty thing to do. Ben knew that. “What did you want me to do? Just show up at wherever you’re living and surprise you?” He asked rhetorically. “I came back. And I came back for you, okay?” Ben needed to do this on his own terms. “But seeing you and saying what I want to say and need to say is a lot harder than practicing in the fucking mirror.” He admitted, looking past Quinn. He couldn’t look him in the eyes right now. He wasn’t ready for this. 

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?”

arlovasquez‌:

chessieabernathy‌:

Chessie hummed as he spoke, half listening as she followed alongside Arlo. At his warning, she shared the same laugh (mostly out of drunkness, rather than actual humor). “I kind of fucked up your guest room, too.” She found herself admit, without giving him the chance to react before her attention was on Ben. Her eyes rolled at the sight of him, a smile present on her face. “A’course you’re hiding out,” she comments easily, ignoring his question as she crosses the room, moving to sit next to him on the bed. Tucking her knees under her, she lets out a laugh. “Stop trying to make me drink fucking beer,” she complains, giving him wide eyed look, as if in complete shock that he’d bring the subject up.

“S’about to be a very white Christmas,” Chessie begins again, pulling the two small bags of coke from her clutch. She holds them up with a smile, as if to show them off before turning her attention back to Arlo. “Do you have a mirror we can use?”

Arlo hadn’t expected to seen Ben when he opened his bedroom door, but there he was, drinking a beer away from the other party guests. He couldn’t help but chuckle, not even the least bit bothered by the fact someone was in his room without his knowledge. 

“Hooking up?” He asked with a chuckle. “No, we’re just…” he trailed off, unsure of whether he should actually say it in front of Ben. Though he realized Chessie had no issue with it since she was the one who pulled it out of her handbag.

“Yeah! I’ve got one over here,” Arlo said as he walked towards his dresser. “I keep it here so I can put ties on.” Retrieving the mirror, he crossed back and handed it to Chessie. He stepped back and watched the other two sitting on his bed.

“I would be a bad host if I didn’t tell you that I highly suggest the floor at the present state of my sheets…”

He fixed his posture as they came in. Why did no one else like beer? What the hell was that about? However, he decided to let it go. Chessie sparked his interest immediately when she mentioned white and Christmas, now that Christmas was actually over. Shit. He was past the point where his judgment was just cloudly. It was really almost gone. He watched Arlo get the mirror and hand it to Chessie, and then his eyes were fixated on those two bags. Was he allowed to get in on this too? 

“The floor? Alright.” He said with a shrug, he wasn’t about to argue. “Would you two mind sharing? I usually don’t mooch but this shit is looking very fine.” He admitted as he positioned himself on the floor. “What’s the point of New Year’s Eve if I don’t have fun? I mean if we all don’t have fun.” He slurred as he glanced at Chessie and then Arlo. 

TITLE: Fool Me Twice, Shame On Me. LOCATION & DATE: Arlo’s Place & Early New Year’s Day (1/01/19) SUMMARY: After a night of drinking and getting high, Ben gets busted. However, that doesn’t stop him from resisting. AKA Benjamin Vanderbilt is an idiot.  TRIGGERS:  Oding, mentions of drug use, mentions of arrest and jail

It was destiny that he had run into Chessie or Arlo. Or rather, that they had ran into him. Or met him in the same room. Whatever. And now he was feeling this high all over again. It felt like wind on a crisp fall day to him. He felt something he hadn’t felt in two years. He was pretty damn out of it but it’s not like he really knew that. He thought that he was completely coherent. 

Then when Chessie went down, it didn’t hit him much. It should’ve brought him back to reality. Instead, he just saw her go down without it registering. He then spent the rest of the night, away from others. With a little baggie tucked away in his pocket. How it got there, he wasn’t sure but he knew he’d save it for a good time. 

When uninvited guests made their way in, Ben tried to quickly get up from the floor but pretty much stumbled over. 

“Hey, hey, hey. What are you doing?” He asked, his words completely slurred. Next thing he knew he was against the wall with his hands behind is back. 

“If you fellas wanted some too, all you had to do was ask.” He announced as they searched his suit. Fuck. The counsequences of his actions weren’t something he was really thinking about, his thought process was blurred but he knew that this probably wasn’t good. He should’ve just fucking left with King when they were talking about it. Now Ben was stuck in a god damn mess with no one to save his ass. Talk about being a Damsel in Distress. 

“We were making it snow since it’s not even cold outside!” He exclaimed, not helping his case. He was told to be quiet immediately but he couldn’t shut the fuck up. The adrenaline rushing through him was warping his judgment completely. Maybe this was a nightmare. Maybe he was dreaming. That could be the case. He was a heavy sleeper. This could’ve just been his guilt. Yes, that made the most sense. This couldn’t have been real. 

“Can Olivia Benson at least arrest me?” He asked one of the cops as they took him off the wall. The Miranda Rights being read to him were muffled. He couldn’t hear shit. It sounded like a bunch of idiots in a room talking. “These handcuffs are really tight.” He made it seem like he was talking to old buddies. There was no filter. He was just blurting whatever the hell he was thinking. Next thing he knew, he was being led by a police officer out of the building. It felt worse than the walk of shame. At least with the walk of shame, you weren’t being carried out by police officers. Fuck this.

The worst part was getting booked, and telling him that he had one phone call. He couldn’t call his mom, he hadn’t spoken to her in two years. He couldn’t call his sister. Besides, he knew he was going to call King. However, he wasn’t sure what the results of his actions would do to her or them. They were here for Ben to make amends, not to get actually arrested this time. But he had to suck it up to get the fuck out of here. That meant putting on his big boy pants and calling his wife.

chessieabernathy‌:

“We do,” she clarifies with a nod, “S’like the we’re the royal family when we’re in Alabama. Paparazzi crashed by tenth birthday party.” Chessie shrugged at his comment, before rolling her eyes at him. The latter was becoming common practice when it came to Ben, the motion never meant maliciously. “You missed the giant FREYA billboard with my face on it in Time Square, didn’t you?” She asked with a laugh, taking a sip of her drink. “I technically have a body guard, you know. The FREYA board’s worried I’ll get jumped my some insta-stalker, or something.” Chessie hadn’t spoken much about the former, finding it stranger to think of herself as an object rather than a person. “I gave him the night off, though.” The mention of the connection between gin and psychopaths pulls a loud bark of laughter from her, “Well, shit, B. Just call me Norman fuckin’ Bates, then.” 

“They were really on your ass. And that’s why I never want to live in the South,” He joked. Of course, if he did, he wouldn’t have been royalty like Chessie but he wouldn’t have been happy if anyone crashed his tenth birthday party. Or any party for that matter. “You’re lucky if I even look up. I don’t think I’ve taken in New York since I was twelve.” Everything felt old to him. Not to mention he avoided Times Square at all costs. “I’ve noticed most people in New York mind their own business unless they’re a crazed tourist. That’s who you probably have to worry about the most.” He looked at her with a tilted head, “You wish you were Norman Bates,” He laughed, “I’m not sure you could pull that off, Chessie. Not gonna lie. Would you be that dedicated to pretending to be your mother as well?” His filter was pretty much gone at this point.

kingkirbey‌:

Forcing herself to show up at a party hosted by someone she barely knew had somehow become recurring theme in her life and truthfully, King was over it. It reminded her too much of how she used to be, when she’d show up somewhere no matter if she’d been invited or not and immediately capture the attention of the entire room. She’d secretly loved it then, but now, it all felt foreign to her — especially on a holiday like this. To King, New Year’s was sort of a meaningless holiday that people used as an excuse to get drunk and make stupid decisions. In her eyes, everyone created their own fate, and it shouldn’t take a clock striking midnight for someone to decide they want to be a better or worse person. “Not to be that girl,” King took a sip of her champagne and leaned in to the person next to her as if she was telling a secret, “But I really don’t get the hype of New Year’s Eve. It’s not like you wake up the next day and suddenly everything’s changed just because the year did.”

Listening to King, Ben couldn’t help but smile. She was right, this was just another day. Change could happen at any point in a person’s life. “What if you wake up and I’ve turned into a werewolf because it’s 2019?” He joked as he looked at his wife. “I’m not sure everyone else here feels the same way, though. Some people probably still think New Year’s resolutions actually work.” If someone wanted to make a resolution, they could do it any time of the year if they were actually motivated to do so. “The bright side is that if we want to leave early, we can since we’re not at O’s.”

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.”