PICTURE PROMPT MEME

[sanjunipero]

Picture Prompt Meme

- Top-level.
- Recieve prompts
- Give prompts
- Have fun!
+ resource +

We suggest including the following in your subject line:
CHARACTER NAME | CANON (optional) | PERMANENT/VISITOR
(ex: Luke Skywalker | Star Wars | Visitor
or:
Luke Skywalker | Visitor )

Comments

Joseph Kavinsky | The Raven Cycle | Permanent

[fucking_kavinsky]

[unaffluent]

001 | 002

[sophistication]

[ one | two | three | four ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ Kavinsky is in a mood. The thing about Kavinsky's moods are that they cycle quickly from sadness to anger, to not giving a single shit and making sure everyone knows that those previous moods probably never existed. A figment of their imagination wipes out by drugs, partying and whatever outlandish thing he could always dream up.

It's harder here, but he's been getting by. Some days are worse than others, some days he can almost pretend that he dreamt up the items that he wakes up.

This time, his mood is peripherally unrelated to dreaming and has more to do with a person of his dreams- his nightmares, he has yet to figure that one out. Kavinsky's best cure for everything has always been a raging party, and now he even has a beach to do so. He's tired of the bars, or the clubs that San Junipero provides, and hey, he's feeling nostalgic.

Even in San Junipero it's not hard for Kavinsky to put together a party, even if he has to do a little more work to get it all together. He's resourceful even without his dream powers, even if he thinks it's bullshit. He feels like a hack, like he's nothing without what he used to have, not that he'd ever admit it.

The area around his beach house is a glowing neon wonderland by sunset, music with a dirty, obnoxious beat blasting across the beach. H's hoping for a certain someone not to be able to resist this kind of party, if only so Kavinsky can throw it in his face. ]

[sophistication]

[ Veronica usually spends her evenings going from bar to bar, but not with the intention of getting wasted. She actually doesn't much like the feeling of being drunk and has just as much fun when she's out on the dancefloor sober than when she's out there under the influence of a few rounds of shots. She's impressively good at letting her inhibitions go without the help of overpriced liquor.

That doesn't stop her from attending a good party, though. She still enjoys being seen at all the hottest places and the moment that she'd begun to hear chatter about the big event taking place at one of the many beachfront homes, she knew that she had to be in attendance.

Her previous encounters with Kavinsky didn't exactly leave the best taste in her mouth, but something about the boy is intriguing enough that it keeps him in Veronica's orbit, the raven-haired girl finding herself right in the middle a throng of bodies all dancing to the beat that booms around them, sand and sweat sticking to her skin where cut-off denim shorts and her bathing suit top don't cover. Some of the others in attendance are obviously drunk, stumbling and laughing while they hang off of their friends, while others seem to be under the influence of something else with their pupils blown wide and a far-off look in their eyes. Like they're lost in a dream world, but still existing in the physical one.

She can still feel the bass thrumming through her as she leaves the crowd, easily spotting the host for the evening and making her way over to him, fanning herself with one of the lapels of her jean jacket. ]

As someone who isn't impressed easily... [ She begins, her words slurring together for only a moment -- indicating that she's maybe had a couple of shots before this current point in time. -- as she knocks her shoulder into Kavinsky's with a quick bubble of laughter. ] I have to say that this is a pretty impressive spectacle, Joeykins.

[fucking_kavinsky]

[Kavinsky would have no idea what to do with going out while sober and so this party is full of everything that can both dull and heighten the senses. Kavinsky tends to go from one to the next as the night progresses, forever chasing that perfect high.

He makes sure the chatter permeates all of San Junipero, there's no chance of anyone missing out. And by anyone he means Ronan. How can he resist this, when the rest of life here can be so dull. He doesn't expect to see Veronica, though he should have, and his initial reaction is annoyance, though he's good at showing nothing at all. Calm and casual as ever, like none of this means anything and he simply threw it together last minute because he was bored.

She might be better than the rest of the assholes who have been trying to take up his time, though, and... well, she's hot. She's no Ronan Lynch, but she's definitely got some legs on her and he's pretty sure she could be an ass girl when he bends her over.

He gives her a lazy grin, holding a bottle out to her, filled with blue liquid.]

This is what I fuckin do, V. It better be impressive.

[He's not impressed by that nickname though, but he knows better than to tell her not to use it. Just like he's a shit, he has a feeling she would be, too]

[corve]

one ; two ; three ; four

The Quagmire; probably several content warnings

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ Kavinsky has no real domain here anymore, not at San Junipero. People come and go, and most of the locals have become far too complacent for what he has to offer (or the lack thereof, since this place is nothing more than dreams upon dreams. The local dream thief is shit out of luck), so Kavinsky does what he can with the bullshit he has.

The Quagmire is the closest thing to even remotely decent around here on nights when Kavinsky is feeling like he wants to be torn apart. Better physically, than any of the damn bullshit he's been letting seep into his system since he wiped his jizz all over Ronan's shirt and kicked him the fuck out the other night.

It was supposed to feel good, better than anything he's felt the past five years, but all he feels is this familiar clawing ache that wants to pull him apart from the inside. He can't sleep, he can't think, he wants to get lost in the darkness, the writhing bodies that line the walls of the Quagmire. He wants to forget, but that's all he's been doing since he got here and now that he got a taste of Ronan, it's all he can see.

It's dark, loud, no real distinction between the fighting and moaning all around him.

Kavinsky doesn't have to tuck himself away here. He can do whatever the hell he wants, like shove this blue eyed, fair skinned boy down on his knees, grabbing the back of his buzzed head and shoving his mouth down onto his cock. They've both lost their shirts at some point in the night, bodies slick with sweat and whatever drugs they could find coursing through their systems. This guy has an issue with his teeth getting far to close to his dick, but he makes such beautiful choking sounds that Kavinsky can almost forgive him. Almost, except he's got a few ideas for later and he's in the mood to stay here all damn night.

He gives an extra hard shove at the guy's head, letting out a long moan that's cut short when he sees another blue eyed, buzzed head in the crowd. He must be fucking hallucinating. There's no goddamn way. Not here. There's no way Ronan would come out here. ]

[corve]

[ That night haunts Ronan. He closes his eyes and all he can see is Kavinsky on top of him, practically feel his hand wrapped around him. In the silence of his house all he can hear is the boy's voice in his head urging him to come, demanding that he touch him, moaning at the feeling of it. The few times that he does finally dream, he wakes up clutching memories of the fellow dreamer -- white sunglasses, a thin gold chain, endless handfuls of red pills and half-smoked cigarettes, car keys emblazoned with the simple Mitsubishi logo. It drives him crazy, keeps him up at night and once he's breezed through just about every other bar that San Junipero has to offer he ends up here.

The Quagmire. Spoken about in whispers, but apparently frequented by many more, if the crowds of writhing bodies and the wait Ronan had to put up with in order to snag an empty back room were anything to go by. While most other patrons seem to lack any shame or inhibitions, Ronan is the opposite. This is one of his many new secrets, he supposes he'll never be free from them all. He doesn't do anything in view of the public eye -- there's already a level of embarrassment that he feels being unable to control himself for seven days (especially with more recent events still fresh in his mind.) and an even deeper humiliation at the fact that he does nothing more than watch. Speaking up only to tell whomever he has for the night what he wants.

(Except the night he let his hands graze over the form of a handsome brunette with broad shoulders, let his lips whisper words against his skin and then spent the next few days in a downward spiral of guilt.)

He's got a typical boy of choice, of course -- expectedly, an elegant one with sun-kissed skin, amber eyes, and wispy auburn hair. One that he can pretend is Adam while his legs are pushed back and another drives into him. He doesn't look at all like Adam when he comes, he doesn't even sound like the object of Ronan's worship, but it's a good enough substitute for when he's feeling particularly desperate. Tonight, though, he has a thin framed, pale boy with raven hair and familiar hollow features -- and, God, the filthy sort of things he whispers to Ronan even sound like him, cooing out 'sweetheart' and 'baby' in that same demeaning way that Ronan's always found just a little too arousing. His mouth nearly forms the shape of Kavinsky's name a few times and he has to stop himself from letting it spill out.

In the hour that he'd paid for, he'd lost count of how many times he'd come to just the boy alone. No one holding him down against a mattress, or pinning him against the wall, or bending him over some piece of furniture. Just his words and the two of them touching themselves, eyes locked on one another.

Ronan's well exhausted and only mildly clearheaded when he leaves the room -- although, not without the promise to return, but the boy with the chiseled features seems less interested in that and more interested in the small bottle of colorful tablets that he retrieves from the jeans he'd been wearing earlier. -- in desperate need of some form of hydration. Whether it be water itself, or the more counterproductive whiskey that he'd been drinking all night.

His eyes catch sight of Kavinsky and the buzzed head of a boy that's kneeling in front of him -- and that almost feels like he's looking in a mirror, save for a few of the contrasting finer details in either of their features -- and he's not sure if he's actually seeing it. Or if he's entirely too fucked up and is imagining everything, if staring at someone who was practically a spitting image of Kavinsky for too long had skewed his entire perception of reality. Their gazes meet, locking on one another from across the room and Ronan feels a shock go right through him. The feeling of disgust, anger, desire and lingering lust all mixing together in his stomach, causing him to turn quickly on his heels and make a beeline back down the narrow hallway he'd just come from.

As though he'd ever been able to hide from Kavinsky. ]

[fucking_kavinsky]

[ Kavinsky's usual flavor at this place hasn't been Ronan for a long time now, but there are nights when it all becomes too much, too close to the surface and Kavinsky has to have him. Those nights are spent with various boys, buzzed head and blue eyes, some even with a black tattoo creeping up along their arms, or necks, or back. Close enough where his imagination can fill in the gaps.

The rest of the nights that he comes here, hating himself just a little bit less (or full of more drugs, which is the more likely option) he fucks anyone, everyone, it doesn't really matter as long as he gets off and he doesn't have to be alone.

But now it's only this, only Ronan, and he knows it'll be like this for a long time, because he's seen Ronan's face again and it's all even more intense than he remembers it being. Kicking Ronan out on his ass the other night hadn't helped at all and now Kavinsky hates him and wants him with a furious passion that he can't ignore.

It's why he isn't sure at first, it's not like his mind hasn't played tricks on him before, especially here. But when Ronan turns his head, their gazes locking, Kavinsky feels a rush that no one else has ever been able to cause. His heart slams into his chest while the rest of the world slows down and then Ronan is out of his view as if he really had been hallucinating it all.

The boy who follows Ronan out of the room a second after Ronan has already left looks damn familiar too, and he realizes that Ronan comes here for this. That he and Ronan have been doing the same thing at the same place because of each other. He doesn't know whether to laugh, scream, or puke, but the shock of it all has him coming hard into the lookalikes mouth without any warning. He barely even gives himself time to recover before he shoves the guy off of him and zips up, pushing through the crowd so he can find Ronan. He sure as hell isn't getting out of this one.

The few people Kavinsky passes who do know him, ask what the rush is, but Kavinsky ignores them and moves quickly down the stairs until he spots Ronan again. Kavinsky is faster than Ronan's anger or eagerness to hide, apparently, because he catches up, grabbing Ronan's arm and yanks him into one of the red light rooms, pushing him up against the wall. The lighting in this room makes Ronan's features sharp, but Kavinsky's grin is sharper]

Thought that was you, sweetheart. Did you get lost on your way to church?

Trenton | Visitor

[inshallah]

Amy Santiago | Brooklyn Nine-Nine | Permanent

[powerpose]

Adam Parrish | The Raven Cycle | Visitor

[unaffluent]

Ronan Lynch | Permanent

[corve]

[unaffluent]

001 | 002

Veronica Lodge | Riverdale | Permanent

[sophistication]

[unaffluent]

001 | 002

[sophistication]

You're sure that lover boy of yours won't mind me stealing you away for a few hours?

[ Veronica teases as she eventually finds them a perfect spot in the sand. Far enough away from the incoming waves to keep them mostly dry while they sit, but close enough that they could easily dip their toes in, if the urge came. ]

I know you only get a short time to hang around here, and I'd hate to be pulling you away from the clutches of young love. [ A laugh bubbles out of her as she finishes laying out a towel, setting down a rather large bag full of "beach necessities" and shrugging off the loose fitting cover she'd been wearing, continuing on in a matter-of-fact tone. ] But, you live in a beach town and never visit the beach [ She pauses a beat. ] Or, visit, in your case, but the point still stands.

[unaffluent]

[ In truth, Ronan probably does mind but Adam shrugs noncommittally in answer to Veronica's question. ]

We can only spend so much time being sad about the time limit. [ Translation: They had a fight and are both being petulant now. ]

I can't help it that most of my time spent here is banging. [ There's a smirk on his lips as he tries to figure out what he can help her with before he's just plopping to sit down. ]

Amanda Perry | Stargate Universe | Permanent

[miss_brilliant]

[powerpose]

001 | 002

Raleigh Samson | Permanent

[tactually]

[unaffluent]

Tony Stark | MCU | Permanent

[im_ironman]

[powerpose]