databanking | PICTURE PROMPT MEME

[ Kavinsky's amusing and maybe that's part of the reason she continues to hang around him. Because his long tangents about crazy things he did back when he was alive in Virginia (West Virginia? God, she's positively atrocious when it comes to geography.), dark tales of seedy things he'd seen in New Jersey, and to be fair it all sounded so extravagant that Veronica wasn't sure if she believed it all.

She'd lived a pretty wild life herself, but Kavinsky's still seemed to top that.

Even if it was all a lie, it at least held her attention through glass after glass of wine, sprawled out across one of their couches laughing at the absurdity of it all while the boy insists everything is 100% true. ]

Okay. Fine. Whatever. [ Veronica waves the topic off with a dismissive flick of her wrist -- though Kavinsky's action tell a much different story than his words, but that's not for her to go pointing out.

She eyes the pill in his hand cautiously. Another one of those things that she's learned she's not supposed to take from boys like Kavinsky, but he's yet to actually prove any of those stereotypes to be true. For as much of a douchebag as he might have been, he'd never gone as far as to take advantage of her, which gave him just a little bit more of a dog in this fight.

And Veronica Lodge had yet to learn what a dangerous thing it was to trust Kavinsky. ] What are they?

[Oh, his war stories. Kavinsky loves those. Reminiscing about the days of past that he just can't recreate here, even if it seems like he does. The drugs in his system mask the sadness and the emptiness he feels about the whole thing, and having Ronan here... well, it has definitely intensified things.

If she only knew how much more extravagant things were in real life and that none of it was lies. Would she believe him? He doesn't know, he doesn't care. It is what it is and as long as people are entertained, Kavinsky is fine with that.]

Fucking finally. Women.

[At least this one knows when to stop pushing and shut it. She definitely hasn't learned what a dangerous thing it is to trust Kavinsky though, that's for sure. ]

They're drugs, lady. They'll make you feel like the life of the party. Like none of the rest of this shit matters. I mean, they're not my personal best, but you work with what you got in this shithole.

Men

[ She repeats with the same kind of exasperation that Kavinsky shows her -- two are able to play at this game, and Veronica has had practice playing it. ]

Yes, thank you. I was aware of that much, I didn't live under a rock before this.

[ She'd actually been quite the party girl in her glory days, she and Kavinsky would have been two of a kind were they back in New York together -- or perhaps where ever it was that he was from. North Carolina? Someday she'd remember. -- he was just the kind of troublesome boy that she had once surrounded herself with. Veronica picks up one of the pills, holding it between two manicured fingers and studying the capsule in the moonlight. ]

Not your personal best? Were you like a miniature Pablo Escobar or something? [ So, that was cocaine, but the comparison still stands and it gets her point across. ]

Open up. [ She gives a noncommittal shrug, holding the capsule only a few short inches away from Kavinsky's mouth. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like she could wake up dead. ]

Whatever, bitch. I'm not the one trying to get all up in your business.

[ At all, in fact. Whatever Veronica wants to tell him, she tells him, but he doesn't really inquire any more than that. Maybe he doesn't care, or maybe it's because other people's lives depress him. There's a lot going on in Kavinsky's head that no one has ever been able to figure out. (Or no one has ever taken the time to try). The last thing he wants to be called out for is waiting on someone. ]

Then ask better questions.

[Back in New Jersey, New York, the surrounding tri-state area, it all feels like a bad dream to him now. He supposes it actually is, since nothing exists anymore. Was he worse back then? Probably. He had a lot more of himself to defend, not just mentally, but physically. Veronica's probably not someone he would have hung out with, unless she gave it up on the regular. ]

Man, you got no idea. I had people in the palm of my hand.

[Just not the right ones. Kavinsky shoves that thought away as he leans forward and snags the pill with his mouth, swirling his tongue around her fingers, then holds a pill up to her mouth as well]

[ Kavinsky's reply earns him a quick glare, but Veronica has learned to pick and choose her battles and trying to get the other to refrain from referring to women in such derogatory was usually ended up with Veronica exhausted -- mentally and physically -- and no closer to actual success. ]

Do these drugs have a name?

[ Because, in her experience, most did. And that was really what she had been asking in the first place. She watches Kavinsky take the pill from between her fingers with mild amusement, letting one of her nails catch on his bottom lip as she pulls them away. ]

Didn't we all. [ She offers him a playful smirk before leaning forward to taking the pill from between his fingers -- and maybe letting her tongue and lips slide along the digits as she slowly pulls away -- knocking her head back to swallow it down dry.

She'd done her fair share of partying too, an equally as seasoned veteran as Kavinsky. ]

How long before these babies work then?

[ Well, at least she's learning. Sometimes it's just better to go along for the ride. Kavinsky gets worse in large increments the more a person tries to fight it.]

I don't name my own drugs. Gotta see what they feel like first.

[He chases her finger with another bite, then smirks when her lips slide along his own. Nothing can take his mind off of Lynch, but at least he can try, and maybe this shit will be a good start. It's depressing to think he's sunk to this, but the party is big enough where it almost doesn't matter than his best company is some girl. Some girl he's been hanging out with more frequently, so... maybe she's not just some girl anymore. Whatever. ]

Sweetcheeks, I don't think the partying you ever did even came close.

[he laughs, putting his hands out against the side of the house, near her head]

Five minutes, maybe ten? It'll be a surprise. We can fill the time till then.

Your own drugs? [ Her brows arches curiously, pulling her fingers back before Kavinsky's teeth can chomp down on them with a quiet laugh -- the boy's redeemable qualities were few and far between, but Veronica at least found him to be fairly amusing. Amusing and entertaining enough to not completely ignore his calls, or go out of her way to drop by his house.

Originally he was probably just supposed to be some one-off thing. Someone she found drunk at her house and then never spoke to again. But somehow Kavinsky had wormed his way into her daily life -- maybe into her heart. Maybe. ]

Maybe not. I wasn't really one for bonfires out in the middle of nowhere, or whatever it is people do in the middle of nowhere. [ She smirks, playful and a little bit challenging, tilting her head back enough to look up at Kavinsky when he moves. ]

For someone who calls them his own drugs, you sure are a little fuzzy on the specifics. [ Her gaze moves away from his face, down his arm to where his wrist is right next to her head and only barely in her field of vision. She examines it for a moment -- pale skin, slightly jutting bones, the hints of scarring that she can only barely see in the flashing strobe and multicolored lights. -- before returning her attention to his face, her pupils already looking just a little wider. ]

Oh yeah? With what?

Well they had to come from fucking somewhere, right?

[He hasn't told her about his dream things and he doesn't know if he ever will. It's like those poor crippled fuckers going on about everything they could do that they can't anyone and everyone feels sorry for them. That's the last thing he wants. Veronica's easier to talk to than a lot of people around here, though, but mainly it's all been superficial, he supposes. He's still not sure why they haven't fucked. ]

Bet you did all that high glass champagne flutes shit. Poured mommy and daddies pills into a bowl and passed that shit around.

[Which isn't all that different from when Kavinsky used to pass whatever he had around, but none of it was cushy shit that he knows all those New York kids agot up to]

I like surprises. [He watches her watching him, giving a small shrug when she asks, then bends his elbows and presses his weight against her as he leans in to kiss her]

I didn't realize you were your own supplier.

[ Rather than answer Kavinsky's question, Veronica gives a noncommittal shrug of her shoulders. She'd definitely been to some high-class parties in New York. Where spoiled rich kids kept their mountains of overpriced cocaine on gaudy silver platters like they'd all gotten permanently stuck in the early 80's party scene.

Though, minus the atrocious outfits, the people she'd once surrounded herself with had better taste than that. ]

You're lucky, then. [ She's able to whisper the words in a low tone just before Kavinsky's lips meet her own and the rest she mumbles into the press of their mouths against one another. ] Because I am full of surprises.

[ Her lips lift into a slight smile as she finally kisses him full on, her mouth dropping open and her tongue licking at his. One of her hands slides down the length of his arm and over his shoulder, keeping him pulled in close by wrapping her fingers around the fabric of his shirt. He tastes like one too many cigarettes, too much alcohol, and many bad decisions. So much like the New York partyboys from Veronica's distant memories, but nothing at all like the redhead she'd left behind -- the boy who looked at Veronica like she was the center of the universe, like she'd literally put the stars in the sky. The boy Veronica hadn't ever deserved. ]

You don't know all that much about me.

[No one really knows anything about him, especially not here. People don't ask, don't care, so he's not about to tell. He and Veronica have had some fun times though, so she might know more than most, but he knows better than that by now, keeping the deeper parts of himself heavily guarded.

He smirks against her lips, knowing full well that's she's probably full of her own sort of surprises, and that there might be even more of them as these drugs start coursing through their system.

He shifts to get closer, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and he kinda hopes that this is the moment Ronan decides to show up, so he can get a full view of him not giving a single shit about anything Ronan related. She doesn't push him away, which is the best part of it all, so he keeps kissing her until he starts to feel floaty and free from the drugs. ]

[ Kavinsky's drugs spring into action quick -- or Veronica is simply not used to doing anything more than getting drunk and all the more vulnerable to its overwhelming effects. -- her lips tingling with each press of Kavinsky's against them, her heart thudding loud and wild against her chest, explosions of light and trails of neon appearing in front of her vision whenever she would close her eyes.

They were really a work of art. Truly something Veronica hadn't ever experienced before.

Her body presses flush against Kavinsky's, hands moving across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, her fingers getting lost in his dark hair as she allows him to steal every last breath from her lungs with nothing more than the way his mouth moves against her own. Eventually she pulls away enough that her lips are just barely brushing against Kavinsky's, her thigh sliding between his legs and pressing right against his groin. ] Maybe you'll have to teach me a thing or two then, won't you?

[They're not as good as his dream drugs, nothing ever will be and he wishes she could have felt those instead of this, but these are good enough for now. They're good enough to feel something different and that's all that really matters here anymore.

Veronica is definitely something different, too. She's a really good kisser, and not so fucked up that Kavinsky has to drag her along. He finds himself enjoying it, even if he wishes it was someone else. The more they kiss though, the more he finds that he's okay with this being Veronica instead. It's not like he wasn't trying to bag her anyway.

He keeps one hand where it is, the other he moves to her ass to draw her in closer, his eyes hazy when she pulls away. He presses against her let when it goes sliding between his and he bites at her lip, tugging. ]

Lucky for you I'm a damn good teacher. You wanna go inside?

[ Kissing Kavinsky is something that comes far too easily -- then again, Veronica supposes that she's more used to kissing boys like him than good boys-next-door like Archie Andrews. Boys like Kavinsky are more appropriate for her, he's a broken and damaged thing just like she is. Each of them with their own set of secrets, scars, and stories that they keep heavily guarded. Veronica talks about New York, and she talks about Riverdale, but all the tales are the good memories. The nights at the drive-in watching old movies, midnight milkshakes in the corner booth at Pop's, after-hours parties with exclusive guest lists, handsome red-heads, perfect blondes, and their beautifully brooding self-proclaimed weirdo.

She leaves out the murder, the lies, the deceit, the father who was the center of her world and ultimately betrayed her. The mother who did hardly any better.

She gasps softly against Kavinsky's mouth when he pulls her in close, her lips lifting into a mischievous grin when his teeth take a hold of the lower one. Her fingers tighten briefly in his hair as she forces him down for another kiss that's all fiery passion and very little coordination -- Kavinsky's drugs make everything feel so much more intense, but don't do much for Veronica's bearings. The world feels a little tilted and she clings to Kavinsky out of more than just need. It feels like he's the only stable thing currently, the only thing that isn't slightly off its axis. ] I can't promise I'll be a good student, though.

[ Her voice is a low purr fueled by arousal, the denim of her shorts riding up underneath Kavinsky's hand until she can feel his fingertips against her skin and the fire that they leave burning in their wake. ]

What's inside? [ And it's amazing how well Veronica Lodge can feign innocent curiosity with her thigh pressing against Kavinsky's semi, her lips ghosting just above his, and his hand gripping tightly onto her ass. ]

[ Maybe that's why he finds her company less irritating than most girls he's ever been around. They're the same kind of broken in some ways, even if they're from two different kinds of worlds. His memories are not so good, but the better ones all come with blue eyes, a black beemer and combat boots, even if they're muddled out by so many other things and memories he's still trying to forget.

He's still thinking about Ronan when he kisses her, but only because that stupid boy is always in the back of his head. The more the drugs settle into his system though, the easier it is to push his face away and think of Veronica instead. She never makes him explain himself and she always comes back. Kavinsky tends to like that in people. ]

That's okay, I mostly like 'em bad.

[He grins and kisses her again, squeezing her ass, letting his fingers travel under whatever fabric he can get into as he pulls her away from the side of the house and starts walking backwards, shoving them through some bouncing people]

What's inside? Your first lesson. Unless you want it out here, but that gross guy over there's already checking out your ass. You wanna give him a show?

PICTURE PROMPT MEME

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject