KOVAK

He is goddamn acidic. There is no hidden sweetness within him, no sugary center. From core to first bite; he’ll singe your tongue.

[talbotfightclub]

i want his snapback asdfghjkl

[k-ovak]

samitaparekh:

For the first time since walking outside Sam actually smiled - genuinely beamed. “All’s fair in love and war. Or something like that.” She shrugged, smugness practically rolling off her in droves. “Not going to lie, that’s the way I like it.” The less people knew, the better - it was how Sam lived her life and that wasn’t about to change any time soon. “Well, good. I did come out here with the sole intent to appease you. But I’ve got to disagree with you on that last bit.” Perfection was the goal. It was an impossible one, yes, but Sam hadn’t yet come to terms with that fact.

“There’s gotta be real estate laws to help poor swindled fellas like me.” The word fella never fell from his mouth before, it felt odd and foreign-- this play at friendly ate away at what Kovak knew best. “Mystery Girl Parekh.” The tall boy reached up, stretching til all joints popped and cracked. “What’s perfect, then?”

[k-ovak]

J.D: don't fucking tempt me

J.D: i stashed some tincture in your trunk

Kovak: it'll only hurt for a second

Kovak: sweet make sure you bring something for yourself too

[k-ovak]

J.D: thinking of suffocating malcolm man snores like a fucking beast

J.D: bridge?

Kovak: i'll bring a pillow

Kovak: we can make it look like an accident

Kovak: sure

[this-is-carlo]

Visit Original Link

Happy Releaseday, Namika!

[noahsglitterglue]

You can’t wake up, this is not a dream You’re part of a machine, you are not a human being With your face all made up, living on a screen Low on self esteem, so you run on gasoline

[k-ovak]

samitaparekh:

“Whoa! Hold on,” Sam shook her head, holding up a hand to Kovak. “I definitely didn’t agree to the whole lawn. You got the curb, the rest’s still mine.” The grin that had been holding Sam’s features turned to a grimace while she made a ‘tsk’ sound. “I don’t think so. One. I still hardly know you, so I’m not airing all my dirty secrets to you. Two. If you think I’m one to show and tell all of my nasties, you might need to rethink who you’re talking to.”

He looked at the tiny strip of asphalt, making a play at being wounded. “I think I’ve been robbed.” The boy’s smile curved upwards and he shrugged. “To be fair, I don’t actually know you very well either.” Kovak leaned against the bricks, feeling the way the surface bit through his clothing, sharp against his shoulders. “I’m content though, knowing they exist. Perfection’s boring.”

[k-ovak]

{ m o r t a l i t y }

Death inspires me like a dog inspires a rabbit.

The blunt in your hand loses it's appeal when your mother whispers by your ear in the only language she knows that a girl is dead. The words don't sound right when you hear them the second time on the television set, paired with a picture that doesn't quite look right-- too styled, not close enough to life. Someone has killed Emily Burke.

Your first thought isn't that she is dead, instead you think murder; your glass has always been half empty and you can see your mother peering over from the other room trying to get some sort of reaction out of you. She wants proof that her son isn't a monster, your jaw sets. She'll get no such reaction and instead you crush out the joint into the arm of her leather sofa: it had dwindled down to the roach anyways.

The television will continue the report on the town's loss even as you slip out the door, you didn't really know her, but there's something about death that makes you solemn. Teenagers are constantly pulled back to be reminded of their own mortality and Emily seemed to have pulled the short straw. You wonder who did it and the question wraps around the cigarette smoke. The exhalations form the only halo you'll see around your skinny frame and you resolve to not worry about it, you knew Leah better anyways.

It's the picture that they had been using for her report that haunts you. Light blue eyes and blonde hair, she looked so much like her sister that it makes you steel inside. It's kind of fucked up to fuck a dead girl.

[k-ovak]

leah-burke:

Something had shifted. Leah could feel it in the air, strained and uncomfortable and closed. She felt suddenly annoyed - a petulant irritation that she wasn’t getting her way - and it showed in the way her jaw set, eyes fixed in a spot across the parking lot, letting Kovak’s question sit unanswered. Her show of bad-temper wouldn’t phase him, Leah knew, because it never had. Why should that change now? “Waste of time,” she exhaled. And then she was moving, decidedly unwilling to spend any more time with him if she wasn’t getting anything out of it; flicking open the glove compartment and pocketing his cigarettes, Leah pushed open the door. “I’d rather walk.”

He reached over to turn his music back up, the engine came to a roar after. Leah Burke would storm away and while his light eyes narrowed as she took his smokes, he let her storm away with them. His offer wasn’t a real one and Kovak’s gaze lifted to the sky. “Looks like rain,” he cast cruelly before reaching over the close the car door behind her. He wouldn’t fuck a dead girl.

[k-ovak]

samitaparekh:

“Oooookay.” Rolling her eyes, Sam let her head tilt to the side slightly. “I’m not sure I agreed to you monopolizing my curb and my stools at the laundromat. I think I might have to rethink this whole deal we have going on. Not sure it’s totally fair.” Not that Sam ever expected it to be, but this was the most interesting conversation she’d had in a while, so she’d go with it until it wasn’t. She nodded, eyes narrowing, “Another, yes. I - and I know this is hard to accept - am not perfect. Damn close though.”

“Too late,” Kovak said smoothly, crushing the butt of the cigarette into the wall to make sure the heat slipped away, tucking it into his pocket so that she couldn’t complain about his making a  mess. “A deal’s a deal, you’re now graciously on my front lawn.” He peered down at the pretty girl, already formulating how he was going to text his best friend about this encounter, but he shifted his weight before laughing. “Tell me about these flaws, let’s do show and tell of all the nasties.”

[k-ovak]

J.D: true as fuck

J.D: whatre u gonna do

Kovak: not sure yet

Kovak: what r u doin rn

[talbotfightclub]

[k-ovak]

samitaparekh:

“Mmmm,” Sam hummed, lips pursing and nose scrunched as though she were seriously considering the idea. “An investment piece, huh? I guess I can’t really turn down a deal like that. It’s yours.” She gave pause a moment, her gaze drifting to the cigarette in Kovak’s hand. “But if you’re gonna smoke, watch where you leave those things, yeah? The last thing I need is my parents thinking I’ve picked up another bad habit.”

“Imagine what this square of land’ll be worth in ten years, it’s a shame you gave it up so easily. My spot at the laundromat’s gonna have to be for rent though, I hate standing.” Kovak brought the cigarette to his lips again, tugging from it-- he had intended to just drop it where he stood, crushed under the toe of his boot, but instead his lips curled into a smile. “Another bad habit?”

[k-ovak]

leah-burke:

“I’ll pray for you.” A lazy pat to his thigh and an empty promise as the image struck of a cluster of women speaking Polish blessings for poor Andrej and his devil-red car, led astray by insecure girls and drug dealers in popular coffee bars. A real American tragedy. Her fingertips drummed quietly against the door, an unconscious replication of the music that had died out with the engine, and Leah glanced over at Kovak, taking in his cheshire grin with a roll of her eyes. “Told you, didn’t I? Came to buy, and now that I’ve got to wait around for you to go play White Boy Drug Trade the time’s gotta be passed somehow.”

“Someone has to,” he retorted, snorting to himself. His mother would never deny him, she shied away when he towered over her tiny frame-- she was frightened of him; but Kovak knew well enough what she whispered under her breath as he crashed through the door late at night with vodka on his breath and lipstick smeared on his neck. “Who says I’m getting drugs today?” He turned in his seat, light eyes carrying over her features. It was uncanny, her resemblance to Emily-- it made his spine straighten and he turned back to face the steering wheel. “You wanna be dropped off at work?”

[textsfromtrc]

[k-ovak]

leah-burke:

“Well that’s fucking sacrilegious of you, isn’t it? Starbucks. No wonder she’s concerned.” Leah tossed the last of her cigarette out the window, head shaking in the same mock disappointment she’d thrown at him too many times to count. “I’d love to see that. Put that new iPhone to good use, Ko. JD’s fans need a sneak peek.” She looking him over at his question, considering, and then met his gaze with a nod. “I think we both know I didn’t tag along to hear the details of JD’s future in entertainment, as invested as I am in that whole scenario.”

“Bottoms up and the devil wins, she’s got this real phobia of lattes.” He wouldn’t be caught dead in the corner cafe, and his own cigarette followed out the open window; his hand trailing out to catch the last rays of sun. “Can’t disappoint the fans.” He turned the key, letting the engine die as he leaned back in his seat. Languid as a cat and just as indulgent, he flashed straight white teeth in a grin. “What did you tag along for then?”

[k-ovak]

samitaparekh:

“Color me surprised.” Her voice was flat, but she was intrigued. Kovak was something, or someone rather, to figure out. There was a voice telling Sam she should walk away, but her curiosity won out - there was such a stark contradiction between the guy standing in front of her and the guy she’d heard Raj talk about. And, Sam being who she was, had to figure out who was right. “Eh. I’m probably biased, but I’d have to disagree. Especially if you’re looking to make that parking spot permanent.” Again, Sam smirked. “I’ve got my reasons. Do you? Well, out with it! I don’t have all day.”

He was no stand up guy, the tall boy was a bad seed but he was good at putting on a show. Kovak took joy in manipulation, but he was certain that the muscles that produced a genuine smile had atrophied in his face; how long had it been since he’d produced something that didn’t follow with a sneer?  “I was thinking of buying the lot as an investment piece, I’ll offer you two prime stools at the laundromat and three square feet of unpainted bridge space.”