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#skellyagogo writes
nekoannie-chan · 5 months
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Masterlist of reblogged authors during 2023 R-S
This is the list of the writers that I reblogged during this year 2023 in alphabetical order. Unfortunately, some blogs no longer exist, so they were not included.
@rookthorne
@royalsweetteaa
@runa-falls
@sagechanoafterdark
@saiyanprincessswanie
@sapphire-rogers
@sarahrogersevans
@sarahwroteathing
@scandinavianfairytale
@scentedsongrebel
@scrumptious-delusion
@sebastianstanisahotmf
@secretswiftymarvelfan
@segeantxrogers
@sergeantbarnessdoll
@sevenwivesofrafecameron
@sgrwrites
@shadeysprings
@shedobewritingalittle
@shelbgray
@she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms
@sidechrevans
@sidepartskinnyjeans
@sillyfeathers
@simp4wom3n
@sinner-as-saint
@skellyagogo
@slothspaghettiwrites
@smolvenger
@soft-for-them
@sologxlaxies
@sonderosa
@sosa2imagines
@soulgazingwithbucky
@soulofvibranium
@spectre-posts
@speechlessxx
@spooderham
@stargazingfangirl18
@starxgirl-444
@statticscribbles
@steveodinsonbarnes
@strawwritesfic
@straywords
@stuckymonkey
@stuckysbike
@sunflowersteves
@sunvmars
@swan-of-sunrise
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romeulusroy · 2 years
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please read!!! 💕
I've been struggling with the decision whether or not to come back. I love all of you too much and writing too much to say goodbye :) There will be some changes though. I've updated the character list with characters I enjoy writing atm. I got rid of The Witcher. I'm sorry if that upsets anyone, but I'm taking much needed advice and writing for myself and at my own pace from now on. I know that'll make me happier and reflect in the writing! Tagging some friends below 💕 @fangirlsarah16 @royaltywhxre @moonlit-imagines @imaginesbymk @multifandomsimagine @murswrites @fanficsfromyesteryear @locke-writes @skellyagogo @ireblongstuff @musicallisto @writeroutoftime @cactiem and so my many more, I'm sorry my mind is blank!!! Xoxoxo💜💖💜💖💜💖💜💖💜
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randomfandomimagine · 3 years
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Prompt for Illya from TMFU from list 2 #34 "Are you cold? Come here." Plz & ty
Thanks for requesting, sweetie, I hope you like it!! Here’s some cute tough guy Illya actually being a softie :D
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Illya Kuryakin x Gender Neutral Reader
The mission was going as planned. The target was in sight, and you and Illya were in your positions. Everything was like you expected, except for the cold.
You didn’t take in consideration that the mission was going to be outside and in the middle of the night. Being too focused on what you would be doing, you hadn’t realized you should have brought a jacket.
“What’s the matter?” Illya, your partner in crime, was staring at you. Honestly, you were probably quite the sight, pacing and shivering as you were.
“N-Nothing” You tried to hide the problem, but it was hard to pretend like your teeth weren’t chattering or like you could barely feel your hands.
“Are you cold?” Illya reached out to touch your arm. When he felt how cold your skin was, he frowned and pushed you against him. “Come here”
You had no time to complain or squirm as he pressed you against his chest and trapped you with his arms. As soon as you felt his comforting warmth, you knew you didn’t really want to complain.
“What are... you d-doing?” You still asked, surprised that he would embrace you like that.
“It will help our cover” He gravely said, keeping his eyes on the target. “We are but two lovers snuggling” 
“Is that the only reason that you’re hugging me?” 
“You won’t be of any help if you’re too cold to move either”
“So you’re not worried about me then?” 
You peered up at him, finding a surprisingly concerned and tender expression in his features. His piercing blue eyes watched you attentively. Still, Illya shook his head, quickly averting his gaze once again.
“R-Really?” You nuzzled his chest, trying to gather as much body heat as possible. “Because your heart is racing” 
Illya paused, noticing your hand pressed against his chest. He went to squeeze it, but ultimately retrievedf his hand.
“Quiet” He resolved to say. “Focus on the mission” 
You were about to reply, but you violently shuddered when a cold shiver traveled up your spine. Illya’s arms immediately tightened around you, and he put his chin on your head as he pushed you further into his chest.
“Do you need my jacket?” He asked, now rubbing his hands up and down your back.
“I thought y-you didn’t care” You chuckled, patting your hand over his heart.
Illya didn’t reply, only moving your hand off his chest. You smiled to yourself, knowing him well enough to realize how much he was struggling to hide his concern for your wellbeing.
“The target is moving” Illya finally said after a small pause.
“How convenient” You muttered, reluctantly pulling away.
You were about to thank him when you felt a soft weight on your shoulders. When you turned to him, he was already going after the target.
Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @maellem / @skellyagogo // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, send me an ask!! // Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!
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I hated MJF with a fiery passion and yet thanks to you ... Now I don't dislike him as much. Ugh. Totally unfair to create a love/hate thing with him now but he was really kinda sorta cute in the story. 💗
This is, I personally think, one of the nicest compliments a writer can receive. I'm always honored any time someone has credited my writing with making them like a wrestler more.
MJF is a favorite of mine to write because he's great at giving little subtle moments in the ring through his expressions or in segments like one from a long time ago with Penelope Ford that show some depth and so he's honestly a writer's playground to work with -- so much more than folks that are sort of one-note all the time.
I'm so pleased you liked the little mini series I put out today. Thanks so much!
🖤😘
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moonlit-imagines · 3 years
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warnings:
a/n:
requested by @skellyagogo
“Well, would you look at that?” Scott remarked with two fingers pointed to the ceiling where a special little plant was hung. “Score!” The pair of your stood underneath the mistletoe, which called for an age-old tradition.
“I see,” you peered upwards and back down at Scott’s giddy smile, he was nothing short of a sucker for romance, “pucker up, babe.” You leaned forward, reaching to cup his cheek as he had done the same for you. Your lips connected and you could taste peppermint on contact. Candy canes: another thing that Scott was a sucker for. As you pulled away, you noticed a disappointment in his expression. “You want another one?”
“I mean, we might as well, you know?” Your boyfriend gave a nonchalant shrug. “While we’re still here...”
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich //
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romeulusroy · 2 years
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a lil new years message 💕
I don't know why I sound like I'm on the verge of tears lol. Anyways, I just wanted to do something as a thank you 💕 I know I'm not the only one who is looking forward to saying goodbye to 2021 :) I hope this message finds you well and I will talk to you again next year :P Xoxoxo Enna 💜💖💜💖💜💖💜
Video Script: "Okay I'm only going to record this once because I really don't like the sound of my own voice, so if it urns out bad, just ignore it, okay? Hi my loves! I just wanted to make a little recording to express my gratitude. I know I haven't been here this year, or a lot this year, and I know it was a really hard year for everyone, but I just wanted to say, to thank you for sticking around, for being there with all your unconditional love and support. Thank you!!! Thank you for being my friends and thank you for being there through literally everything. I hope 2022 is so full of, of hope and love and joy and happiness. I really hope it makes up for all the stuff that's been going on these past few years. I hope it's a year of growth and self-love and positive change. I can't stress enough how much you deserve it and more!!! You have to trust me on this, okay? So thank you my loves. I really hope 2022 is a good year, I'm putting that out in the universe right now. So yeah. Happy new year! Love you guys!"
HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES!!!! 💖🥳🎉💖🥳🎉💖🥳🎉💖🥳🎉
Hi friends and followers and anyone who needs this message! This message is for you!!! @always-imagine-a-dream @aspie-allie @biscottibitch @babylooneytoonz @cactiem @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @drakens-baby @emcon-imagines @fangirlsarah16 @fanficsfromyesteryear @imaginesbyella @imaginesbymk @lotsoffandomimagines @lilyswritings @lxncelot @locke-writes @myriadimagines @moonlit-imagines @musicallisto @murswrites @oneofakindimagines @peterman-spideyparker @prider-parker-imaginations @randomfandomimagine @royaltywhxre @swanimagines @sheimagineddragons @smallheathgangsters @supervalcsi @skellyagogo @theshelbyclan @writeroutoftime + so many more!!!! I tried to go alphabetically to remember everyone, so if you're not tagged, know I'm talking to you!!!! 💖
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randomfandomimagine · 2 years
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Shoutouts #19
It’s been a while, so I wanted to give another round of shoutouts to the new people that have been really supportive of me and the blog lately. I trully appreciate your love and just know that it means the world to me 🥰
@mahvericks, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @errruvande, @nixiesrec, @yelenabelovastolemyheart, @sirkekselord, @writings-i-like, @tradgothprompto, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @agentmalfoy24601, @ravenpuff-with-an-attitude, @mirclealignr, @fuckitup-in-style, @deliahscrush2003, @ocfairygodmother
Also, and since it’s almost the end of the year, I wanted to give shoutouts again to all those sweethearts that repeatedly have my back and keep dropping by my blog after such a long time. You’re all so amazing as well 💜
@himawari-haebalagi, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @welcome-here-in-my-world, @dancingwith-sunflowers, @inlovewithaspider, @skellyagogo, @ace-cream-in-a-cone, @fedorable-killjoys, @unstable-puffin-writing, @sheimagineddragons, @aaron-despair, @caritobbg, @suenami3, @charliedakotariley, @karasong and so many other people as well as a lot of lovely anons (especially Star anon!).
Thank you lovelies so much, you’re all really the reason why I keep enjoying this blog and posting on it despite the bad days and the lack of motivation sometimes. Your support is super important to me 🥺💕
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romeulusroy · 3 years
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The Rest Is History (Arthur Shelby Oneshot)
Character/s: Arthur
Word Count: 1,763
Requested: Could I request flirt, wildflowers and "Dinner? With me?" with Arthur Shelby please? Thank you 💕 ~ @skellyagogo
Prompt/s: flirt, wildflowers, "Dinner? With me?"
Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @megnotfound @ladyeliot @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes @lucillethings @valkyrie-2312
A/N: It's been millions of years since I've last posted writing, I'm so sorry about that my loves, but I cannot put into words how excited I am to finally have that love back, and to have the pleasure of receiving such wonderful requests!!! When I say I had a million ideas as I was writing this, there were so many ways this could have gone and I wish I could write them all!! I'm so sorry this took forever and I'm also sorry if the format seems a little weird, still getting used to writing fics on my computer. Oh my love, I swear I'm not a creep or anything, but I love seeing your icon pop up! I just knew you'd have a lovely request, and this was even better than I expected!! I really hope you like it!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜
Summary: What if Arthur hadn't come back? 💌
FIC MASTERLISTS 1-3 / WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?
FIC REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
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Life had a funny way of touching mortals.
Her hands soft, smooth, cupping your cheeks, drawing the lines in your face by hand, her attention to detail impeccable. The hairs in your head, once thick, bright, healthy, were growing gray, sprouting at the roots the color of clouds. The aches and pains in your joints becoming more frequent, deeper within the marrow, ingraining itself within you the way ink bleeds into paper. The pictures you hold fray at the ends, curling in, yellowing. So much time has passed, so many lifetimes lived, and yet, you never strayed too far from one another, a thread shared between you, a pull only you knew about, something that could not be captured into words. A tug inside of you, leading you through the universe. He could feel it, too, you were sure. The knowing look in his eyes, shielded by walls he built up, too much time on his hands, too much heartache.
A boy when you met. Young, naive, spirited. That's what they called someone when too many feelings were imprisoned, caged inside a body, inhabiting something, someone, much too small for its power. Stringy, you used to laugh, a child made of elbows and knees, jaded edges softened by a smile, lifting the world on to his shoulders. Pushed out the door as the sun rose, not welcomed back until the the stars poked through the sky. Followed by his own blood, of blue eyes and big tempers, eventually granted a sister, bearing the weight of his title: first born. He didn't coddle, he himself had never been coddled. Instead, they'd run through the streets, picking pockets, finding trouble, joining the rest of the Small Heath's offspring where the trees withered and no one cared enough to swat them away. You were one of them. Climbing branches, feeding horses, running with the wildflowers, wading through the shallow waters where the docks kissed the swaying grass, your clothes soaking wet, your bellies aching from the laughter. You didn't have much. Homes made of instability, fathers stinking of booze and rage, mothers cold and unforgiving, all of you trying to get by in a place that never cared how hard anyone worked. Little money, little faith, little hands helping one another over fences and through alleys, never forgetting anyone, never leaving anyone behind. Kids when you met, friends before you knew it, falling before you knew what falling was. Arthur Shelby, a bright boy, letting his siblings tag along to picnics in the fields, letting them drink whatever one of you had swiped from your kitchen tables. It burned all the way down, leaving you to wonder why so many good men traded their lives for it, the burning.
It wasn't long before you were growing up, sent to school as long as you wanted, as you could afford, that same group often skipping. You and Arthur and all those kids from your street, taller now, less interested in hiding and more intentional in being seen, being heard. Blushing at the sight of one another, your actions deliberate, your looks flirtatious too cowardice to say anything more. Bored of the lessons, the rules, those who believed they had authority over you, wanting to go back to a childhood that seemed sweeter than it was. The two of you still hand in hand, your affection nothing out of sorts, the sort of comfortable love you were scolded for. From strangers and family alike. The Shelby's were nothing but trouble. A brood uncultured, wild, wreaking havoc. That wasn't Arthur, though. Blinded by assumption, refusing to see a sensitive young man, one who'd grown out of his own hollowness, finding his own ways to quiet the buzzing under his skin. It wasn't all rage, it was passion, too, and excitement, and joy. They were scared of what they could not understand, and what they could not understand was wonderful.
Taller now,though beginning to hunch, his hands calloused, his eyes bright, but beginning to sink. He refused to fade, to fall into the expectations. Adults, supposedly, surpassing stages your friends were grateful to reach. Engagements, weddings, babies. Neither of you seeking, nor avoiding, that path. Dating in passing, none of too serious though. Bodies to fill the time, the space, to hush the insistence of worried voices, aunts and uncles, anyone older and wiser, believing there must be something wrong to fix. It just wasn't what you wanted, to follow in the footsteps of generations before you, turning into the very people you spent your whole life questioning. Their steps deep, sunken, giving up. You refused to kiss the bottle, to send your own kids out where you yourself used to be, falling deep into your own sadness before you could find a way out. You wanted better for yourself, for your future, there was nothing selfish about that. You wanted better for him, too. You always knew, in the end, it was him. Arthur hadn't known, he couldn't have, and yet he had. There was little time left, trading blind dates set up by the well meaning to visit the city, scrounging any money you had together to see what little of the world you had, would be gone too soon. A time would come for him to give it up, give you up, boarding a train to the end of the world. That his brothers, even younger, would join as well, seated with neighbors, boys from school, family men now, the same ones he'd meet in the streets and play soldiers with. No time to talk, to say goodbye, to snip the ties that bonded you two together. One kiss, that's all you were granted, a surprise, catching you, striking you, hurting you all over again.
He was all you ever wanted, and now he was gone.
So, the string pulled, taught all the way from France, a blood vessel ready to burst, your lips still burning from his. All that time, you grew used to the longing, of feeling half whole. Without him, life moved on. Arrangements were made. Dinner was served. War became background noise, something to lull you to sleep, your thoughts of him too much, too painful, forced to leave them behind, like a baby on a doorstep. You refused to budge, though. Part of you wanting to freeze in time, stay exactly as you were the day he left, wait by those tracks until you saw him again through the foggy windows, wanting, needing him to know you'd been there all along. Spending your days waiting for letters, imagining how much he's changed, what he'll look like when he comes back, if he'll even recognize you. A generation of waiting, of patience. You could sympathize with young mothers alone, left to raise a child of war, empathize with lovers left to pick up the pieces of a world shattered, their dreams and expectations of their perfect lives splintered, unrecognizable. Carried away in a fantasy land, imagining what you'd have together when he came back. No more small steps, not just trips to the city, but living there, anywhere, wherever you wanted to go. Be who you'd always wanted without wandering eyes to bear into you. As long as you were together, you knew you'd be all right.
Finally, a letter addressed home, but for you. No one dare open it before passing it to you. They had grown sparse through the months, the years, growing less and less like themselves. There was no more optimism, no more good news, only that of small talk, or what small talk had become. Less were dying, and that became good enough for you. Pol had read them all to you when she got them, sharing the news out loud, as if their home needed that reassurance, too. After all that time, you still recognized his handwriting. Crooked, in an endearing way. Short, never a man of words. He missed you, he thought about you every single day, the way you thought about him. Things were okay, as okay as it could be, that he was hopeful it would all be over soon. The ending, though, was what caught you off guard, what made you have to sit, tears welling in your eyes. "Dinner? With me?" The rest of his request unsaid: when I get back, as if he were a trip away, and not in battle. There was never a question of if, only when. A date, a real one, something to look forward to, to give you hope the way he clung to it, defiant the way he'd always been.
One among many, the crowds vibrant in a way you'd forgotten could exist. Dressed in your best, waiting, watching men in uniform step off the platform one by one, names you could feel, but not remember, enveloped by those they'd left behind. Polly grabbing your arm, tugging at you, leading you towards them. They do not wear the same smiles the others do. They are older, defeated, everything in them tired, ashamed, wanting to crawl back to the days you spent swimming by the boats, skinning your knees, dirt under your fingernails. The scene wasn't right, and it hadn't made sense why, until you were already crying, silent tears dropping like bombs, a quiver in your lip you couldn't stop, Thomas and John unable to meet your eyes.
Three had gone, but only two had come back.
This life, though long, had not been kind. Taking all that she could, before she urged you, step by step, to an ending incomplete. Always more to say, to do, to be. You hoped, surrounded by loved ones, your body too weak, your heart too broken, that they would remember you, and love you, and miss you. That even though your life had never been what anyone wanted, it was not uniquely your own, a tragedy of your time, your youth, to others of your time, too many ghosts left waiting by those tracks. You hoped they would not remember you only for your grey hair, your wrinkles, or the age spots you'd woken up with, suddenly aware of all the time that's passed. You hoped they would not mourn forever the way you had, crawling into your grief like a warm blanket, secure somewhere far away from the truth.
But most of all, you hoped, in the end, that he was waiting for you, like you had for him. That he would keep his promise, to see you again, wherever you wound up on the other side.
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gangrenados · 3 years
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Rescue!
A little Peter blurb cuz I miss writing for my baby
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This was supposed to be an easy mission, just get in, save civilians, fight the annoying villians and go home to finally be able to finish that darn new videogame that Jubilee bought. Well, that was the plan for Peter at least, but things got wacky before even getting to the second step.
He was running through the streets, kicking asses at the same time he made sure both the humans and mutants were safe and far away from the battlefield.
Peter was overconfident in his abilities; the music he got blasting was pumping up his motivation, making him feel invencible, but before he was awere a crazy dude came out of nowhere ad thrown a blue beam of light at him.
He closed his eyes thightly, ready to feel the impact but nothing came."You good, Pete?" you asked him breathless as you fly above the fight. Peter was between your arms with his head hidin in your chest, he looked so vulnerable and yet kind of funny at the same time.
It was hard for Peter to fully comprehend what was going on, it's like his mind just went blank in the moment you came into the scene. He looked up at you, his eyes fully open and filled with pure shock.
"Holy shit!" what all he got to say, not daring to get out of your grip as you descend to the ground.
Peter looked back and the view of a destroyed building was enough to pull him out of his trance. "YOU ARE SO AWSOME." he shouted, so happy to be alive and caughting all the eyes of the X-men in the process.
You giggled at him, it was a normal thing to save people but usually you didn't have all of the team attention in you when you do so. "I love you so fucking much!" Peter smoched you, taking all the swet time he had to enjoy this little messy kiss.
It wasn't weird to see Peter and you being all so sappy with each other, even if the team complained a bit, they were glad speedy got someone who care about him and you to be happy and loved.
"Did you guys see that!? (y/n) saved me!" he screamed at them, "You don't have this kind of love, losers!" Peter smiled smugly as he pull out his hand to give you a high five.
"Uh, yeah, I do." Scott said with an obvious tone, making Peter roll out his eyes." Jean has saved me before. She's so cool...."
It took a couple of seconds for Peter to react while Scott was inmunne to Peter's glare."You always have to make things about you, don't you?" he said, shaking his head at his friend.
Marvel tag list: @nervousfandom @thereisapineappleupmyass @mukelovers @pretendthisusernameisgood @miliablr @psych0crybaby @gigi-is-confused @shadygoateeprincess @skellyagogo @isometimeswrite132 @psycho-on-thephone @smol-flower-kiddo @cheezbot @pixievengance97 @ghost-bitch @lovelyartemisa @bluishdeath34@unknowntoanyone
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gangrenados · 3 years
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45. The creak of leather
26. The smell of Cologne/perfume on warm skin
34. The feel of fingers brushing together by accident
Okay but these three scream Warren and his lovely punk ass, my emo baby🥺
Sorry tho if you’re not in the mood to write for him.
Love ya! Have a nice day 💖
I'm always in the mood for write about Warren, also I didn't knew how to out 34 on this but well...I hope that's not a problem
I know Warren is a tough, punk guy but DUDE I love writing about his soft side 😫
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The dim light fell on Warren's features almost perfectly, his pale skin looked smooth and the golden locks falling down on his forehead made him appear like a sort of ethereal creature. A fallen angel who has lost it's purpose and been forbidden to go bck to heaven.
He used to call himself that way when the alcohol made his poetic side come out. There always was bitterness taste in those words, Warren always tried to skip your gaze by nuzzling his face on the crook of your shoulder and kiss on the soft skin of your neck.
Warren surely was an angel, a beautiful one who was too broken to realize his greatness.
"You good, baby?" Warren smiled sadly at the feeling of a soft kiss on his bare shoulder. It has been so long since you two abandoned that party, but he couldn't take anymore being in a crowd.
For a big guy like him, being afraid of being around too many people was nothing but pathetic. That was Warren's way of seeing things, he hoped you didn't mind that much being stuck with a joke like him.
"Kinda," Warren mumbled in your chest, not daring to look up since that smell of your cologne was oddly comforting.
Among the sound of music and people chatting, your humming was enough to make this scene feel far away from the party going on downstairs. It was mesmerizing how always when you were together the outside world seemed to put itself in second place, allowing you to enjoy yourselves at the fullest.
This made Warren feel safe, something quite weird looking at his past. Nobody has made him feel this way before...he didn't even knew what to do but he was grateful.
"You don't wanne go back, do you?" you trembled your fingers against the old, cracked leather of his jacket, letting them roam free and caress those fluffy feathers in the base of Warren's wings.
Warren finally looked up to you, those tired blue eyes meeting yours. He was pouting, clearly not content with the idea of going back to the party." I don't want to go" he simply said. " why, do you want to?"
You tilted your head, thinking about it for a few seconds before grimacing." Nah, I prefer to stay with you, bird boy."
Warren grinned softly, a dim blush covered his cheek, but before you were able to see it he went back to rest his head on your chest. "Cool..."
Marvel tag list: @nervousfandom @thereisapineappleupmyass @mukelovers @pretendthisusernameisgoodd @miliablr @psych0crybaby @gigi-is-confused @shadygoateeprincess @skellyagogo @isometimeswrite132 @psycho-on-thephone @smol-flower-kiddo @cheezbot @pixievengance97 @ghost-bitch @lovelyartemisa @bluishdeath34@unknowntoanyone
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gangrenados · 4 years
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From the prompt list #2 103 & 135 for Peter Maximoff and Scott Summers bc those two are each other buddy, best friends, best pals and NO ONE can convince me otherwise. if you feel comfortable writing it obviously ♥️♥️
Their the bestest of friends and nobody can change my mind! 😤
Gif credit @hiddleloki 💖
103.“Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” 
135.“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.” 
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They were fucked and nothing in the world could stop the storm that was coming to get them. Peter and Scott knew that very well, after all, you don't mess Wolverine car without facing the consequences.
"Well, it was nice to be alive." Scott huffed. The sight of the melted door wasn't promising, he should have said no to Peter's idea of testing his superspeed against Scott's lasers.
"It's not that bad" Peter voice was shaky, too far away of the relaxed behavior he wanted to show. "I bet Wanda could fix this..."
"Yeah, we're fucked." Scott clicked his tongue. He was sure that the X-Men meeting would end any time soon, they need to act quick if they wanted to make it to dinner.
"Well, I guess that's the only plan we have" Scott sighed defeated while Peter could only grin, relieved to have a getaway."Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English."
Peter nodded before racing to his house. Magda wasn't surprised to find those two troublesome teenagers trying to sneak a melted car into the garage, she has seen too much and hopefully she could talk about it with Peter later.
"So you melted it?" Wanda ran her fingers through the damaged door, doing her best to find a decent way to repair this mess without screw it." Why you thought that would be a good idea in the first place?"
Peter rolled his eyes." That's not the point here, okay? I just need you to fix this, that's it." Wanda's poker face was enough for Peter to start to shake in frustration." C'mon Wanda, for me?"
"You own me one." And with that her hands started to glow, maybe she couldn't fix it properly but at least it would give the illusion that it was everything alright.
Scott frowned, he wasn't that fond of letting Wanda do all the work." Don't you think we should have called Erik?" He leaned to Peter, not wanting Wanda to her him.
"I'm asking the same goddamn question." The three teenagers jumped at the sound of a new voice. A very pissed Logan was standing in the garage entrance and in the street the Hank's car was parked.
"What the hell happened to my car?" Scott gulped nervously, suddenly remembering the turbulent relationship he and Logan had. Wanda slowly but surely stopped, sneaking into the house to save herself from a scold.
"So? Are you gonna talk or-"
"-We accidentally broke your car, it was by mistake. We would never do it on purpose, right Scott?" At Peter's poke on his side, Scot just could agree." Besides it looks better now...kinda"
" Why did you did this?"Logan said wondering why adolescents could be so fucking stupid.
"We were trying to see if my lasers could reach Peter while he ran." Scott explained." I didn't work out that well..."
“Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.” Peter muttered to himself, not daring to look at Logan.
"Fuck" Logan sighed, pricking at the bridge of his nose and doing his best to not let his rage take the best of him." Look, I don't care if you regret this or not, but you better fix my car before I run out of patience..."
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randomfandomimagine · 3 years
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Application for fandom family! My name is Jess (@skellyagogo), b-day is Sept 19th. I'm an INFJ from the Midwest in the U.S. An introvert with a wicked sense of humor, avid reader, procrastinator of writing, mix of Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, need coffee to survive and love the rain. My characters are Cameron Frye, Illya Kuryakin (TMFU), Rick O'Connell, Merlin (Kingsman), Greg Lestrade (Sherlock).
Hello, Jess! You’ve been added as Cameron :)
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