#skeletonzimms

[ohyoufool]

@skeletonzimms correctly said that Moving Pictures by Fall Out Boy was a Pimms song and you know what. They were so right.

[vitaliskravtsov]

for the wip asks there’s so many that look really interesting but the teen dad kent au caught my eye immediately, i would love to know more!

YES omg okay so basically it's Kent As We Know Him but he has a baby. Baby is a result of post-Jack hookup to prove he wasn't gay (didn't work, it was only proof that he is in fact very gay) and also Kent's gone pretty much no contact with his family, latches on to random nevadans for help, and intends to wholly hide his baby from everyone except management... and actually mostly succeeds, particularly when it's most difficult, his rookie eyar. The story continutes and there's some trade funsies and eventual parswoops!

SNIP TIIIIME!!!

There's a dead, flat silence.

"This is why you don't-"

"Don't tell-"

They're talking over each other, voices crossing and mixing.

"Go," Scraps tells him finally.

"Don't tell anyone," Kent says. He does his best to make sure it sounds like a directive and not a question, or worse, begging.

"Of course," Scraps agrees. "Can ask- how?"

There's a lot that questions could mean, anything from how do you do it to how did you get him to how has nobody found out, but Kent breathes deep, shakily, and picks the most obvious.

"Badly," he says, and it feels like a confession.

[plangentia]

4, 19, and 67 for wrapped!!

4 - black tie by grace petrie!

19 - home to me by devil and the deep blue sea

67 - flash mich by mark forster

[ivecarvedawoodenheart]

27 and bobby and alicia? i love the way you write them!!

27. All My Friends — Snakehips feat. Tinashe & Chance the Rapper

It will beat, it will burn, burn, burn your love into the ground With the lips of another 'Til you get lonely, sure I get lonely, sometimes

Her kisses are — ow, okay, that’s a little too — bitey, that one hurt. Bobby pulls back and smiles in the way that says she’s a heartbreaker, runs his thumb over her bottom lip and leaves it there, kisses the other corner of her mouth and winces against her neck. 

They’re in the smoky corner of an poorly-lit club. And he sorta can’t remember her name but she looks at him like he’s devastating, murmuring all the things she wants him to do to her when they get back to her hotel, and it’s so different from Alicia that it’s almost worth a bite or two, almost. She’s pretty. She wants him. At this point that’s really all he’s looking for. He’s done the all-consuming thing already and lost in a big way.

Bobby’s about to tell her they could skip the hotel, the bathrooms have seen worse things than a gorgeous girl like you, why don’t we just when the crowd changes. 

It’s nearly imperceptible. He pauses, kissing halfheartedly when the girl makes a small noise of protest. He almost has it pinned down. It’s something in the way the conversation repeats under the pounding music, in how everyone’s heads are turning toward the door and just as quickly looking away, in how he can track whoever just came in by the way the crowd parts just so slightly. Bobby pulls the girl’s hair a little, smiles against her lips when she gasps and tugs him even closer, wonders if Alicia knew he’s here, and that’s why she came. 

It’s not even a question of if it’s Alicia. More just how, and what’s he gonna do when he sees her. And not if but when, because when it comes to her he’s helpless to stop himself, helpless to tell her you ended this, not me, what’re we doing like he should’ve done in Chicago and Boston and D.C. and—

“Holy shit, that’s Alicia Fenway,” the girl says suddenly. Then: “Wait, where’re you—”

He doesn’t hear the rest of her sentence. It’s inevitable, it’s a magnet weaving him through the mob on the floor; it’s Alicia Fenway drinking at the bar with her back to his approach but meeting his eyes in the mirror; it’s Bobby, standing behind her, and it’s Alicia, leaning against him, moving her hair the way she does when she wants him to kiss her there; he does. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Alicia says, soft. She runs her fingers through his hair, turns and meets him in an open-mouthed kiss, feels so damn good in his hands. Familiar as a dream. 

He whispers, “Yeah, you did.” 

Hands under his shirt now, warm on his skin now. She looks up at him through her eyelashes. “I can make it up to you.”

Fuck. “How’re you gonna do that?” Somehow his voice stays steady. He clasps his hands behind her back, holding her close. 

This whole mess of people, everyone’s watching. They’re gonna be on the cover of some shitty gossip magazine tomorrow and he should probably care about that more than he does. She should care about that more than she does, actually, because she’s got a premiere coming up and all the press and interviews that come with it, and she always hated getting boiled down to her love affairs.

“I have a couple ideas,” she says, and he blurts, “Come home with me.”

Alicia doesn’t react. He’s bitterly pleased by that, knowing her well enough to know she hears what he’s really saying. Make this real, he’s saying. Don’t leave because you’re scared. Do this with me. 

Then she reaches up and pulls him down into a kiss that’d make him fall over if he hadn’t grabbed the bartop first and she’s stalling for time, Bobby knows and can’t quite — she bites his lip, gently, and he sighs — can’t quite make himself care, not just yet, not when he gets to pick her up and carry her to the bathroom, not when the crowd whoops behind them when he locks the door, not when she’s already sliding off the shorts she wore under her skirt even as he takes off her shirt, as he lifts her onto the counter. 

And then— 

Fuck, Alicia, I missed you, against her throat. And then—

I — god, just like that, into his shoulder, and I — love you, too.

Bobby freezes. “You do?”

And all at once he thinks she’s crying. No, she is, her eyes are too bright and there’s that tell in her chin, the slightest tremor in the muscle of her jaw, and he’s — fuck, what kind of person is he, that he didn’t — notice—

“Hey,” he whispers, smoothing her hair, holding her waist the way she likes, dotting kisses all over her head and cheeks. Alicia avoids his gaze and he doesn’t force it, just keeps touching her gently and saying softly spoken nonsense. Her hands are like vises on his hips. They’re probably gonna bruise, but that’s okay. He brushes away her tears.

Alicia clears her throat. “I’m sorry,” she says, wiping her eyes with the pads of her fingertips. She’d told him once that that’s how you have to do it in order to save your mascara. She glances at him, rests her head on the mirror behind her, keeps looking. Relaxes her grip. A not-so-small part of him misses the contact.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he says. He goes to tuck her hair behind her ear, but she stops him by the wrist. Fuck, here it comes. She’s not stalling anymore. It hurt the first time, it’s gonna be — he should’ve gone back to that girl’s hotel, he shouldn’t have met Alicia at the bar, he should’ve tried harder to stop himself from breaking his own heart. 

Alicia pushes his hair out of his face like it’s meant to soften what she says next. “I can’t do this.”

Bobby squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t. Don’t say that right after you said you loved me. Don’t — walk away from us again.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, and he can hear her tears, and he blinks away his own. 

This isn’t something he can fix. That’s what she’s telling him. It’s not I don’t want to, it’s I can’t. These stolen moments, these recurring one night stands; she’s been stalling this whole time and he let her, because it meant being near her again. He’s been breaking his own heart this whole damn time. 

When he looks at her, one of his tears darkens the lace of her bra. Alicia frames his face with her hands and kisses him sweet and full and tries his best to soak it in, to remember everything, fully aware he’s turning into a desert the second she walks out the door, that they’ll never have this again.

“I’m in love with you,” he says. He’s doing up his belt and he’s saying, “I’m in love with you,” and she wipes her lipstick off his neck.

Alicia says, “I’m in love with you too, Bobby.” She sounds miserable. “I wish I was brave enough for you.”

send me a number 1-101 & a ship and I’ll write you something based off my Spotify Wrapped :)

[vitaliskravtsov]

12 and 52 for spotify wrapped!!

12) strut by DITA

52) This is Berk by John Powell

I have RanGE 😂😂 anyway highly recommend BOTH these songs!!!!!! VERY GOOD but uh,,,, very different 😂😂

[thewitchqifrey]

63!! :)

63. Canary - Joy Williams

send me a number 1-100 and I’ll tell you the song it corresponds with on my top 100 spotify wrapped playlist