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PSA. if you ever write me a starter, i will like it as soon as i see it before drafting it. so if i never reply to it & i never liked it, it’s because i didn’t see it. i swear i’d never leave a starter hanging, but there’s a lot of things i don’t see until way later & i don’t want people to think they’re wasting their time when really i’m probably dying to see your starter & just never did.
take a chill pill, your honor
the kill – a rovinsky playlist
“You know what I want, Lynch?” He leans forward, his bones creaking and sighing and for a moment that chaotic nature leaves him. It leaves behind a wild stump, his razor-sharp smile thinning; but his fingers are still digging into the flesh around Ronan’s wrist, his gaze still wild and hot and waiting. So Kavinsky waits, as if Ronan will answer, his beer-sick breath in Ronan’s face, his mouth hanging limp and open.
But Ronan doesn’t answer. He won’t. He doesn’t want to know what Kavinsky wants, because he’s imagining the black, rubber stump, a mouth blown wide and a cherry blossom left in it’s place – the carpet stained red.
Instead, he takes Ronan’s hands and he presses them to his chest; his callous fingers scraping the back of Ronan’s, spreading his fingers flat so that he can hear the stuttering pace of Kavinsky’s heart.
In this moment he’s suddenly soft and sad – his face pried open, the innards revealed, his mouth taut and simmering. When he speaks it’s like he’s spitting out his organs, turning himself inside out so that Ronan can understand the dagger smile, the lazy laugh.
“I want the world to burn.” (x)
He was always moving. There was something erratic and vulgar about the full line of his lips, like he’d swallow her if he got close enough.
H I A T U S :
as you may have noticed — i’m very inactive lately and will probably be for another while! i want to get back to rping from time to time but i need to get some personal things fixed and settled first before i come back. stay tuned and keep your heads up, i’ll check this acc occasionally for IMs or anything if you wanna talk ! xoxo
CRYSTAL//CASTLES
like for a starter !!
|| :: reply w a verse / setting of your choice ? mutuals only !
svdbcy:
nimble fingers slide along the nape of his neck, over skin and into the hairline to rake his fingers through. admittedly, sure, he’s still feeling the effects of last nights … whatever. under that stare though, a distraction is much needed; even if there’s only so much the dim of the hallway can give away, it’s the kind of thing he’s never been entirely comfortable with. “oh,” comes the purr, sighing softly in response to the lips at the hinge of his jaw. “and modest, too.” ivan keeps his grasp on the other, trying to support himself as he’s ushered along towards the room. “apparently not.”
|| :: “ good for you maybe —good for me, too ? “ joseph remembers some girls from the high school downtown ( what were their names anyways ? ), being all giggly and pushy concerning their actual reason to be here; drugs. marvellous drugs. drugs you cannot overdose on, drugs that last for longer than the usual time; they’re expensive, but they’re affordable. “ at least you’re not here for —only being here or something. “ k’s voice is hoarser now, deep and dark as his lips hovered beside ivan’s ear. “ how did you even end up here, then ? came with a friend ? who left you alone, little one ? “ the purr is sweet and his fingers warm on kavinsky’s skin. he opens the door behind them with a little push and shoves him inside the room, making ivan flop onto a bed. k follows shortly after, eyes fixed on the other boy. his teeth are white in the half dark room.
French Montana - All For You ft. Lana Del Rey, Wiz Khalifa & Snoop Dogg
“I know everything you do, so if you know I know.”
fight club sentence starters :: closed
“ you know i know “
kavinsky stopped. stopped breathing, stopped fighting. his eyes were burning from staring into the flames for too long, his back aching from falling. he knew. and he had known about his plan. matthew was safe with his friends, kavinsky’s plan forgotten and foiled. this could have been his final show. this could have been his death. the final coup. he had already leapt into the burning nothing of his fiery dreams —and there he was. the one who caused this brutal mess; ronan lynch who was grabbing for his hand, pulled him back and away from the created hell. ( “what’s here, k? nothing! no one!”; “just us.” ; “ i know.“ ) and he had known when kavinsky was about to fall.
savage mind with thoughts for weapons – fear the d r e a m e r for he’s his own king.
independent ronan lynch rp blog. rules.
like for a starter !!
|| :: reply w a verse / setting of your choice ? mutuals only !
svdbcy:
you’ve kissed one pretty boy, you’ve kissed them all, but that didn’t stop ivan from tiring of it, from getting butterflies in his stomach at the mere notion of it. hands clasped, he lets the other lead him along, biting back a smile and trying not to look too absolutely pleased with himself. “i think it’s already an improvement,” comes the hum passing from his lips as he winds his hand up to curl against the back of his neck– what was his name, anyway? he probably ought to be more bothered about not knowing.
|| :: the dreamer snickers into the neck of his pastime, the boy with those soft curls and the grim eyes. see how quickly his mood has changed out of a sudden ! kavinsky’s amused and a little ticklish at the neck, so he leans his head back and surveys his guest for a moment. a nameless pair of eyes and hands and lips —so pleasantly to look at in the dark of the halls. he pulls him closer, finds the curves of his hips under his shirt and presses his lips to the edge of his jaw. it’s sharp ! esp. for a fragile thing like him. kavinsky is a little taller than his partner, and he holds him tight, guides him closer to the door next to them. “ improvement, eh ? ‘m the cream of the crop of this god damn town. don’t you know my name, deary ? “
If someone is private , selective, or anything at all —-it is because that is what makes them comfortable. It isn’t an action that is directed towards you to purposely insult you or your writing. Please, respect people && their comfort zones. They have their blog the way it is for a reason. Don’t guilt people into coming out of their comfort zone because you feel ‘offended’. If you’re offended by something that a stranger has done, then perhaps you should merely remove yourself from the situation entirely.
