drabble meme

[beachland]

Via neveryourmask and ravenna

Pick one of my characters. Pick one of yours. I shall write a snippet of their relationship. It can be established or hypothetical, just as long as I have some familiarity with the character!

Here is a list of prompts, some of which I am probably lacking the pop-cultural reference knowledge for. Choose '33%' at your own risk.

Comments

bivinsky for mici (cw drug use)

[pillz]

Billy Kaplan is drunk. Blind, reel-around, puke in his own mouth, can't remember his name drunk.

Well-- Billy Kaplan tried to get that drunk. In practice, and in spite of recent magical disasters that have partly motivated him to get this way, he's a little bit too responsible to engage in escapism that's that obvious. For example, he kept drinking water in between the tequila shots, took public transportation and, when Joseph Kavinsky wandered up the bar and asked him if the magic order was ready, Billy Kaplan had put up a responsible hand and responsibly said, "No magic today." He had almost added, melodramatically, No magic ever, but again he was too responsibly sober to convince himself of that.

Kavinsky had frowned impatiently then smirked, suddenly. "You okay, man?"

No. "Sure." Lately, Billy generally felt like he had lead weights tied to his ankles. Envy pinching with every step, and regret heavy in a way that he didn't tend to notice in the ordinary grind of the way, right up until he had to make a lefthand turn or unexpectedly look at an erstwhile victim in the eye and then he was tripping over himself, clumsy and miserable. He did not know much about what had happened to Kavinsky, but he was aware that something had. "It probably isn't a good idea to... invest with me."

"I am," Kavinsky smiled, "a big fan of terrible ideas."

He stopped smiling when Billy threw up on his shoes.

Kavinsky is evidently protective enough of his investment to babysit. He makes a half-hearted offer of cocaine and then ecstasy and then a dubious mustard-yellow pill, pinching Billy's hip, predictably skeezy. And then he transtions, with mercenary precision, into buying Billy chicken nuggets and holding a water bottle over his face after Billy somehow up winds up wallowing in the (uncomfortable) backseat of the Mitsubishi. There is a scandalous amount of guns in this car. Also, two bullet holes. Billy has not bothered asking what Kavinsky's original plans for the evening were. "Did you even make the fucking belt, shitqueen?" Kavinsky asks, finally. "I got a business to run, man." But he pulls the bottle away when Billy pauses to swallow and, being a categorically disgusting person, drinks from it too. Maybe Kavinsky is accustomed to vomit taste. He washes it down with beer, after.

They get out of the car at an overlook. De Chima twinkles below.

"Haven't you ever really wanted to be with someone," Billy asks, folding his arms under his head. He closes his eyes and tries to remember the warnings that Gansey told him, but the thought of Gansey is a razorblade in his heart. "Really."

Kavinsky shrugs. Then he bounces the bottle cap off Billy's head. Billy can barely feel it. "I can fuck anyone," Kavinsky says. "When you're on cocaine, you'll understand."

Billy is quiet awhile, watching the faraway cars. Presently, he says, "If you want anyone, that means the same as wanting no one at all. It's like being anywhere or nowhere. Anything and nothing. If you don't care, you don't care."

"Yeah," Kavinsky says, then he leans over and kisses him, licking into the sour damp of Billy's mouth. It's not quite the worst thing Billy's done this summer.