#TA x OC

[romanreignsbae]

I’ll help you - R.R

Me and my boyfriend Joe of 2 years now have always supported eachother no matter the circumstances. More recently Joe's schedule has been hectic as ever, because football season has started and he has a minor problem consuming him.

Since he came into college on a full ride scholarship for football this doesn't mean grades don't matter. He's an student athlete so his grades are always took into consideration before football.

Me and him have basically have all our classes together. In one class specifically, he's been struggling and is on the verge of failing, if his grade goes any lower, he will be taken off the football team until it goes back up and he can't have that.

We have a test in 2 days that's worth enough to bring his mark back up, so here I am in our dorm room trying to help him study.

I'm explaining the question thoroughly to make sure he understands. "So, Joe do you get it?" I ask him. I get no response so I look up at him seeing he's staring at me in awe. He then keeps eye contact while pushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. I blush profusely.

"Your so gorgeous baby, you know that" he talks in low voice while questioning me. But no- I can't fall for this right now.

"No Joe don't try to sweet talk your way outta this, you gotta get your grade up otherwise you won't be able to play" I remind him. He groans loudly before throwing his head back clearly annoyed.

I don't blame him because this is a pretty hard class, even for me. "C'mon Joe-" I get cut off with lips being smashed onto mines.

I try to pull away but he only deepens the kiss. I decide to let him get everything outta him, before I lecture him a little. He pulls away smiling at me with a proud look on his face. He reaches out and runs his finger over my now bruised bottom lip.

"Joe now seriously let's do a few more questions…then we can lay down and take a nap together" I try to compromise.

"Alright fine" he replies. What takes about 30 minutes we get through about 4 questions and I can see Joe's kinda starting to get the hang of it.

"Can we finally lay down?!” he pleads me in a whiny voice.

I nod my head and leads me to our bed. I lay down on my back and he crawls on top of me, laying his head on my chest. I start running my hands through his hair and within a few minutes I hear light snores. Before I know it I feel myself falling into a deep sleep too.

I wake up the next morning and get ready for my first class. I always wake up earlier then Joe because I like a fresh start to my day. I usually wake Joe up around 15 minutes before we leave cause he barely takes any time to get ready.

We get through all our classes and before we know it, it's break. Me and Joe hold hands walking through the courtyard. Usually during break we just sit under a tree and chill. I read occasionally if he wants to throw a football around with his friends. But it's rare cause he claims he would rather spend his time with me.

We place ourselves down under the big tree that gives a shadow to block the sun. I open my book bag and pull out the text books we need for him to study.

"Babyyyy nooo, not during break" he whines. I try not to giggle at his tone.

"Yes Joe, you have a practice that runs late tonight, when you get home your not gonna wanna study and the test is tomorrow, so you need to study" I explain.

He surprisingly complies and nods while he leans his head onto my shoulder.

"Ok so I'm gonna give you a few practice questions, and if you need help wait until the end, I want you to try these yourself at first" I announce.

I grab my notebook and write out a few questions. I hand the book over to him and I see him writing. A few minutes later he hands me back the notebook.

He had a confident look on his face and I hate to burst his bubble but these were all wrong. "Joe sweetie, these are wrong, but you got all the steps right, your just rushing the end" I exclaim.

He's truly so smart he just needs to try harder, and if he did I'm confident he would be doing phenomenal in all his classes.

"I know, I just don't have any motivation for this type stuff" he tells me. He leans forward and tries to give me a kiss. I back away and he groans.

"Y/n baby, please let me kiss you" he begs. A idea then pops into my head.

"Okay Joe, how bout every question you get right, you get a kiss, but… don't rush otherwise you won't get one" I compromise to him.

His eyes light up. He shoots up and sits up straight. "Yeah yeah lets do that, gimme some questions" he says almost excitedly. I laugh at his excitement.

I hand him the notebook and this time he takes about 20 minutes, I calmly read waiting for him.

I look over the answers and squeal. "Yes Joe! These are all right! I'm so proud of you, your gonna do great on the test" I exclaim.

He smiles at me proudly "that's because I have the best tutor" he tells me. He then quickly pulls me by my sweater and smashes his lips onto mine. We share a mini makeout session, until I feel my head throbbing in pain.

I quickly pull away and keep my eyes shut, the pain is so bad. "Hey! What the fuck man! Why the fuck would you do that" I hear Joe yelling.

I open my eyes and see that a football is right beside me. Great. I've had a football thrown at my head.

"Owww" I whine out while trying to contain myself from crying.

Joe collects all my books and puts them into my bag, he then picks me up and I nuzzle my face into his neck, his cologne calming and distracting me from the pain.

When he stops walking I open my eyes to see we are in the nurses office. Joe explains what happend to me to the nurse.

She quickly tests me out. "Ok well, it's not a concussion, but I suggest you rest now, stay home from school tomorrow and go back if you feel right" she tells me.

I thank her and we leave, while we walk to our dorm room, Joe's shit talking the guy who through the football at me, and about how he's gonna beat him up during practice.

When we get back Joe lays me down on our bed and gets a ice pack placing it on my head.

"I'm gonna stay here, instead of go to practice today" he lets me know.

I feel guilt wash over me. "No no, go Joe I'll be alright" I try to convince him. He doesn't budge at all though and pulls me onto his chest.

The rest of the night we spend cuddled up in our bed watching movies and order takeout.

The next morning I wake up before Joe per usual and decided I don't feel good enough to go to school. I wake up Joe and inform him he needs to get ready, but I'll be staying here.

He offers to stay with me, but I protest since he has that test today.

"Your gonna do great baby, just remember take your time and double check your answers." I tell him.

When it's time for him to go he kisses me softly before asking if I need anything before he leaves, which i refuse to.

I spend my day reading a book I've needed to get to, I took the opportunity since I had nothing better to do.

I look at the time and see Joe should be back any minute. While I'm finishing the book I hear the door slam open. I turn to my side to see Joe with a massive smile on his face.

"Baby, baby! Look what I got on the test" he practically yells. He walks over to me and sticks his hand out. I take the paper from him to see '93%' bolded in red in the corner of the page.

"Joe, you did it! I knew you could do it! I'm so proud of you!" I tell him excitedly.

The rest of the night is a calm night, I decide I need some fresh air so I sit on the bleachers reading during Joe's practice. And we spend our night embraced in each other's arms.

[urbanqhoul]

IIIIITSS Commission round up time yet again~ Commissions are open peek here if you're interested~ https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LHyQKT0WERH5GSxu6v2jex2wFk6OSd4Ld1Mns8oFn3s/edit?usp=sharing

[saltysideblog]

Gotham, exterior, night

Robin, Batman and The White Rabbit stand on a roof, staking out an abandoned building across the street. Robin stretches and groans,

Robin: We've been at this all night! What time is it?

White Rabbit checks a golden pocket watch on a chain looped around her waist,

White Rabbit: Almost two AM...

Batman does not look up from his binoculars,

Batman: You really committed to the theme.

White Rabbit: Seems to be the only way to be taken seriously 'round here...

She hands him a small object,

White Rabbit: Is this bat shaped throwing knife yours?

Batman: Touché.

Robin, still stretching: They're called batarangs.

White Rabbit, laughing: What? That's the most ridiculous thing l've ever heard!

Robin: Hey, don't look at me! I didn't come up with it!

Both Robin and The White Rabbit look over at Batman expectantly.

Batman: ...

Batman: I thought it was funny.

Robin: Told ya!

White Rabbit: I'll be darned, I had no idea Batman had a playful side!

Batman, smirking: There's a lot you don't know about me.

...later...

District Attorney's office, interior, day

Bruce: What's that on your desk?

He points to a batarang being used as a paperweight. Wendy picks it up and hands it to him,

Wendy: This? A gift from The Batman.

Bruce: Someone pinch me, is Wendy Babbitt a friend of The Batman?

Wendy: Now now, Mr. Wayne, don't mistake my fondness for the man as an endorsement of his methods.

Bruce: You're fond of him? Must've been quite an evening...

He sits on the edge of her desk, turning the batarang around in his hand. She crosses her arms,

Wendy: Why do you care so much, Wayne? If I didn't know any better, l'd say you were jealous.

Bruce: No! No... just surprised.

Wendy: Sure. Well, you know, if you save my life once or twice, I may grow fond of you yet.

Bruce, pouting: You haven't already?

Wendy rolls her eyes with a smile and grabs her coat. She doesn't have the courage to tell him... more than you know.

Wendy: C'mon, Bruce, I'm starving.

Bruce stalls, feigning hurt. Wendy laughs, shoving him off her desk,

Wendy: I can tell you all about him on the way.

Bruce stands, chucking the batarang back on the desk.

Bruce: It's a bit... oddly shaped, wouldn't you say?

Wendy, eagerly: That's not the half of it, you'll never believe what he calls those things!

Bruce smiles, holding the door open for her. Their conversation continues and fades out as they leave together.

[voxmortuus]

►PAIRING: Tangerine x Fem!Reader ►UNIVERSE: Bullet Train ►WORDS: 1.3k ►SUMMARY/PROMPT: Tangerine is constantly traveling for his work. Never really in one place for too long. Never gets attached, the only person he's ever truly loved was his brother. But work brought him back to that place. That place you met. That place you had such a beautiful night together, that one time he let down his walls, and that one night he opened up, and that one night of nothing but raw passion. Standing there, that spot on the beach, the palm trees, and the sounds of the waves crashing sends Tangerine into a trance, and it all comes rushing back to him. That's the night that crosses his mind. It's been a year, and it's as fresh in his mind as the night it happened. ►SONG INSPIRATION: Heat Waves - Glass Animals ►TRIGGER WARNINGS: Unguarded "soft" Tangerine | Public Intoxication Tipsy feeling not drunk | Heavy Petting & Making-out | Public Nudity | Sex on the beach | Vaginal Unprotected Penetration | Hints of Internal Ejaculation | Cuddling | Multiple times implied | Tangerine Waking you up to go back to work | Cliff Hanger | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ►NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision. ►IMAGE & DIVIDER CREDIT: @nyxvuxoa ►My Master Masterlist

The hot sand mixed with sunscreen and maybe even a hint of coconut, a sweet scent, an enveloping scent, a warm scent that takes over that memory part of the brain, that memory part that taps into the pleasure senses. The gurgling waves were metronomic. The gushing waves were comforting. The humming of the wave song beguiled him. The sea was kindling its own symphony. It was as if it was putting him in a trance. Standing there, the salty breeze kissed his face, his bright gray eyes closed for a moment and that's when it settled in. That memory from that one night a year to this very day.

"Careful! You're going to spill the bottle!" you chuckled watching him as he took a sip. "You're draggin' me Darlin'! Course I'm going to spill the bottle." he chuckled as you both stumbled in the sand. "I don't want you to leave in the morning." you told him. Taking the bottle you place it in the sand after taking a swig from it and you place your arms around him and hold him close. Looking up you gaze into his eyes. "Can't you just... miss... your flight?" you asked him with a small pout on your lips. "Darlin' I wish I could. But I don't think they'd appreciate that very much. They'll come looking for me and then what are we going to do?" He looked over your face and pushed the hair from your face. Leaning in he kissed you sweetly, lovingly, yearning for that connection.

He never got close with people, but there was something about you that just really made him want to be close. Maybe it was your curves, maybe it was the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself. It could have been anything, but it was enough for this workaholic to stop and take notice of you, and to want to spend time with you. Especially like this.

Eventually, both of you find your way to the sitting in the sand, you're straddling his lap, your hands on his shoulders, and they move up to play at his hairline. You lean in and nuzzled into him. You nipped at his lips. Holding him close you run your nose along his jaw taking in his scent. Feeling his hands on your waist, moving up under your shirt.

Your breathing picked up a bit, and your skin was sensitive from the consumption of liquor. But you were of sound mind, you knew exactly what he was doing, what you were doing. Leaning in you kiss him deeply, and your tongue finds its way to dance with his, doing a sensual tango. You feel him getting excited under you, feeling the twitch of excitement. Letting out a jagged breath, you grind your hips against him. His hands find their way to your ass and gripped you and pull you closer to him.

He watches you for a brief moment, and there were no words spoken. He knew what you wanted, and boy did he want it too. He wet his lips slowly running his tongue over his lower lip and he moves his hands to strip the shirt from your figure, removing the bathing suit top with it. He tossed it to the side. Returning the loss of shirt with him as well, he turns both of you over, and the sand, warm from the heat of the sun from earlier that day caresses the curves of your back as you fall upon it.

Moving to stay between your legs, he gets on his knees and looks down at you. He wanted to admire you, he wanted to just look at you. He reaches forward and unties the cover-up skirt and your bikini bottoms opening them up to see all of you. The way the moonlight hits your body, he smiles, taking every curve in, taking each and every ounce of you in. Logging it in his memory bank.

Reaching forward you run your hand over his stomach, playing at his own curves of how his body worked against your fingers you smile into a giggle, and you bite your lip and you sit up, and reach forward and lower his swim trunks and look over him. He was beautiful, you thought of him the same way he thought of you.

Grabbing at his hips you bring him back to you, wanting to feel his weight against you, wanting to feel that warmth against you. You wanted to feel him. When he came to hover over you, he took your hands and placed them on his sides, as he leaned in and planted his lips against yours, kissing you deeply, yearning still. His member pressing against your swollen lower wanting eager lips.

The dewy wetness coated the underside of his hard member as he moved in such a way the tip of his member slipped into your eager hole. Licking his lips, he leaned in and kissed you deeply. As your hands gripped his sides, his forehead rested against yours and he let out a slow groan as you let out a heavy moan. How he felt, it was like you felt each and every vein, each and every groove of his cock against your lips, against your velvet, wet, warm, wanting walls.

As he thrusts you whimper and moan, and as he grunts and groans, the sounds of your bodies colliding was hidden and masked by the crashes of the waves on the shore.

His hands move to yours and he moves them above your head, his motions were loving, passionate, they were personal. This felt more personal than he could fathom. He was lost in this moment with you, his eyes locking with yours, your moans matched his. It was how you both moved.

Moving you both work together to find yourself on top of him. At first, you're laying against him, your hips moving against his member. Your breasts pressed against him, his hands dragging down your sides and after picking up some pace you move to your hands pressed into his chest as you begin to bounce on him, your head falling back as you press him into you, feeling him hit that back wall, that perfect spot found.

Rocking your hips your breasts bouncing, his hands cupping them, both of you let your moans be carried off by the wind. Carried out to sea finding the sirens of the deep as you both let out such a finishing moan you both tremble. The way that finish filled you was one you will never forget. That finish seemed to just come on so strong, and it was the way you moved together. The way your moans played off the waves it was an intoxicating tune of an echo that seemed to play on those waves for many clicks.

You move to lie next to him, your fingers play against his chest, no words exchanged, there were no need for words to be exchanged. But it was like you both couldn't keep your hands off each other. You didn't want to, he didn't want to. It was nothing but raw passion. Genuine and true. You couldn't keep your distance, feeling how he filled you again, and again.

Ring... Ring... He groans and checks his phone, damn near dead, he looks down at you, the sun just now coming up, he moves some hair behind your ear and leans in and kisses your cheek. He didn't want to wake you but he didn't want just leave you.

"Darlin, wake up, I've gotta go..." he whispers against your ear. "Mmm, please no..." you mutter. "I'm sorry... I wish I could stay. I'm sure we'll see each other soon." He says softly.

Shaking his head he came back from the memory and felt this tightness in his chest. Licking his lips he shoved his hands in his pants pocket and looked down at his feet a moment before turning and walking back to the car. He looks back over his shoulder to see what he thought was you, and an almost one-year-old child.... He tilted his head, but it couldn't be. Could it?

"Look at those waves Clementine."

[catgamer3122]

Old Animation I did awhile ago.

First off thank you all for all the support I've been getting, your reblogs make my day! I really do appreciate it! Anyway like the title said this was some old animation I did a long time ago with my OC in TAS style. ( McCoy is easier to draw in this style 😅 ) If anyone else has TOS OC’s I would love to hear about them! I love reading about other OC x Canon. Also yes out of everyone I could ship my character with I chose, the southern middle age man…Yes I have issues…?

[eventuallyaugust]

try again masterlist smau

pairing/s: florist! kim minju x high school teacher! gp! oc

summary: when batch '16 decides to hold a high school reunion, minju decides it was a good idea to tag along with her friends to attend the event, but a good decision before is a bad decision now if it means encountering her old high school sweetheart and first love, ahn hyunjae.

"you still like tulips?"

"yes, what about you? do you still love marigolds?"

"yeah, i still love them (the same way i still love you)."

tags... crack, fluff; angst; hurt; no beta we die like men; second chance romances; exes-to-friends-to-lovers; non-idol au, old high school sweethearts meeting again, straight-a troublemaker x straight-a good student, adult au, wlw

warning/s... angst; suggestive/smut themes; dark jokes; strong language, bullying (affectionately); multiple mentions of alcohol and its consumption; violence mentioned; idk anymore, i'll add more if i notice something;

posting schedule.... whenever a sense of motivation hits

featuring... izone, some nmixx members (mostly haewon & bae), some ateez members (mostly wooyoung & seonghwa), and many more idols that are either mentioned or appeared in some chapters.

status... will rewrite

————

profiles. spawns of satan, the chaos within, the flowers in the meadow

chapters (number of chapters & some titles still unidentified)

⭐ - fav chap

[0] the collapse

[1] the gfs are worried

[2] backstreet's back alright

[3] curious minju pt.1

[4] our divorced parents ⭐

[5] what if?? ⭐

[6] stranger danger ⭐

[7] 1st day

[8] new girl?

[9] active era ⭐

[10] yes, better than u

[11] pink tulips (written) ⭐

[12] uh-oh??

[13] hide-and-seek ⭐

[14]

[15]

[16]

[17]

[18]

[19]

[20]

... many more

---

taglist (open!): @awkwardtoafault , @kimsgayness , @dream-chasers-things

°°°°

a/n: jae can be interpreted as the reader or whole other person. it was supposed to be y/n, not jae but i find it hard to imagine if i pair minju to someone i can't imagine, so that's where jae is born.

disclaimer all images and pictures used in this story are not all mine. they belong to their rightful owners and i therefore give credits to their edits. i DO NOT CONDONE or ENCOURAGE the violence mentioned here.

@ eventuallyaugust 2023 | navi

[shadowphoenixrider]

Skin Deep (1/2)

(Oops fell down Gambit rabbit hole and maybe self-inserted myself to ship with him. No ship in this one; consider this an intro fic for my insert, as well as some flexing for my other areas of knowledge. Not gory but you're gonna get some specific descriptions of injuries, do take care.)

Thick, metallic blood spilled over his tongue, swilling around his teeth and staining them crimson.

Gambit spat it out, wiping the drool from his lips. His body ached, fatigue and wounds draining strength from him like a cloud of mosquitos. He felt something sharp and searing in his chest whenever he breathed in, not pulling as much air as he wanted. Not for the first time he envied Wolverine's regeneration. His kinetic energy manipulation was at least keeping him on his feet, and that was the main thing right now.

Gambit had been following up on a lead that one of the Friends of Humanity had gotten it into their head to attempt to wire a Sentinel blaster into themselves. Said guy had decided to do some tests on the first unlucky mutant he came across, and Gambit had to intervene.

Turned out half-Sentinel, half bigot was a really, really bad combination, and although the Cajun had prevailed, he would heartily prefer not to repeat the experience. He winced as he lifted his hand to his mouth, trying not to acknowledge the deep gash into his palm oozing dark blood and that uncurling his fingers was not only difficult, but extremely painful.

"Gambit to team," he spoke wearily into his comm, "dealt wit de problem, if someone could send for clean-up, be much appreciated."

"You don't sound too good Remy, are you alright?" Jean replied. He shrugged off the attempt to connect with his mind.

"Gambit felt better, but he be fine." He looked down the alleyway. "Gotta check on the mutant, see if they're ok."

Gambit didn't wait for a response, carefully making his way with a little help from his bo staff in his good hand. As the adrenaline died away from him, the pain increased, and he almost regretted not letting Jean into his head. Almost.

"It be safe now, mon ami." He called as loud as his chest would let him. "That guy won't be botherin' you again."

There was movement by a dumpster, and a small woman emerged. She was fair-skinned, no taller than Wolverine, if that; with thick brown curly hair tumbling down her neck and blue eyes. Her black hoodie and dark blue jeans were dirty and slightly scorched from the initial confrontation, but she seemed no worse for wear. Gambit breathed a sigh of relief, trying to mask his pain behind a charming smile.

"Thank you," she said, "if you hadn't been here, I-" She stopped suddenly, tilting her head as if she heard something Gambit could not. He wondered for a second if she was telepathic, and immediately shielded himself behind a wall of reassuring thoughts. "You're hurt."

"Got roughed up pretty good, but Gambit gonna be fine, petite." He replied in what he hoped was a laisse-faire tone. "No need to worry 'bout him."

She frowned, completely unconvinced.

"You're hurt pretty badly Gambit," she said, stepping forward. Her eyes hadn't moved from him for a second. "I can help you, if you want me to."

His eyes flicked over her. She didn't look like a medic, but Gambit had long since learned that looks can be deceiving. Sometimes literally.

"Dat your power?" He asked uncertainly. "Healin'?"

"Yes, mostly." Another step closer. "Please Gambit, it's my fault you're like this, let me at least repay the favour."

"Not your fault you be in the wrong place at da wrong time, petite." He replied, wincing as his chest burned on another inhale. "If not you, woulda been someone else. Gambit woulda done this for anyone."

"Okay, but regardless, please let me help fix this. It's the least I could do for you."

As wary as the Cajun felt towards this unknown mutant, discomforted by her noncommittal answer, he found himself too weary to argue the point.

"Alright. Jus' go easy, ok? That fight was rougher on Gambit than he expected."

"Sure." She nodded. "Let's sit down, it'll be easier for the both of us."

They sat against the wall of a red brick building, the relief of the weight off his feet quickly swallowed by the pain of all of Gambit's other injuries.

"Got a name, petite?" He asked as the young woman knelt beside him, tucking her feet underneath herself.

"Uh, Shadow."

Gambit arched an eyebrow.

"'Shadow'?"

She shot him a nonplussed look, raising her own dark eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not exactly in the habit of sharing my true name with strangers." An apologetic half-smile softened her expression. "Even other mutants. Besides, 'Gambit' isn't your true name either, is it?"

He chuckled, despite his pain. Oh, she's got some fire.

"True enough, petite. True enough."

Shadow reached out to him, before hesitating.

"Um. Would it be alright if you rolled up your sleeve?" She asked, the top of her cheeks flushing pink. "Sorry, I just find this easier skin-to-skin."

Gambit smirked, unable to resist.

"You know, there be easier ways to get Gambit's shirt off, petite." He was delighted to see Shadow's blush deepen, even more when she began to stutter. "Jus' razzin' ya, mon amie." He chuckled. "Here." Gambit pushed up his coat and armour sleeve, exposing pale skin.

Shadow scooted a little closer, and gingerly wrapped her hands around his muscled arm. A glow shone out under her skin, flowing down the veins into her hand and fingers. Gambit's gaze lifted curiously to her face, watching her closely. Her own gaze unfocused, eyes glazing over as she seemingly sank into a trance.

Suddenly black filled her eyes, coating her sclera the colour of midnight, whilst her irises turned the bright crimson of blood. For a brief moment, Gambit saw his eyes in another's face, before they rolled back and under her closing eyelids.

---

Shadow hadn't really known what to expect from her rescuer, except maybe he was friend, and could go toe-to-toe with the bastard that had decided her life was forfeit. But certainly not the tall, black and red eyed man that now sat next to her.

Gambit, as he referred to himself as, had taken quite the beating in her stead - his pink breastplate had a large impact crack over his chest, black leathers and trenchcoat torn and scorched, and his right hand curled up into an awkward claw, blood dripping through his gloves.

Despite his attempt at good humour and to fluster her, Shadow knew he was badly hurt. She'd heard it, the now familiar trilling noise that lived just on the edge of her hearing - like it came from under her ear, itching at her bones. It was loud, underscoring every word they'd exchanged, and seemed to peak with every breath he took.

She took a breath, centring herself as she wrapped her hands around Gambit's muscled arm, feeling his warmth. The warmth mingled with hers, and she let the trilling get louder, louder, filling her ears until it was all she could hear. The world blurred as she felt her power rise within her, focusing on the skin under her hands, the pulse under her fingertips.

The sound crescendoed into a ringing song, heat flooding up her body, punctuated by her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her body becoming alive and on end, as if she could feel the molecules in the air around her, every piece of clothing on her body-

And then she was him.

Gambit's deeper heartbeat boomed through her, the rush of his breath, the pressure of the protective armour against his skin, and what had to be the warm hum of his powers, permeating everything about him.

It was always disorientating, moving into another's body, suddenly being aware of every cell and their 'voices', all speaking at once. Especially someone whose nerves were screaming with pain, so immediately Shadow hushed them quiet. She needed to think, to triage.

Her attention was caught by a raspy inhale, the now duller yet urgent throb from his lungs. She moved her awareness up, feeling - a pneumothorax of his left lung, the air trapped inside grating against him with each movement. Thankfully it wasn't too large - the cuirass had done its job - and Shadow focused. The cells responded, drawing the air out into themselves, his lung expanding to its full capacity. Shadow felt the relief flood through him, and she 'smiled'. One down.

Her patient now much more comfortable, Shadow spread her awareness into the neural network, seeking the next trouble point.

His right hand came next, and she followed fibres down towards the site. It wasn't pretty. A gaping laceration had been torn in his palm, deep enough it had nicked a vein, and the tendons had almost been cut in half - thus why Gambit was holding his hand so. Luckily the other structures were fine, so Shadow moved first to the vein, smoothing the walls closed. She heaved the excess blood up and out of the wound, clearing her working area and lowering the pressure in the fairly tight quarters. To the tendons now - the hanging fibres she took and gently wound them together again, melding the joins into one.

She tested her work, tugging the muscle fibres gently to make them uncurl - Gambit resisted her at first, but then he moved them himself, the tendons sliding smoothly and easily. Shadow was already moving on though, pulling the edges of the wound together; flesh grew and reached towards itself, knitting back together, layer by layer until nothing remained of what had been.

Shadow continued this for what felt to her like hours - letting Gambit's nerves call her from site to site, soothing contusions, closing superficial grazes, sealing up the gash in his mouth (having to hold his tongue still to stop it interfering with its curiosity), quietening the aches and pains as she went. All the time she felt his power humming against her, oddly warm and strangely comforting. She wondered what it was.

When she received no more pain signals, Shadow concluded her job was done. She began to focus again, pulling away from the symphony of sounds and the mutant warmth, away, away...and out.

Shadow opened her eyes with a start, pulling in a gasp, grounded once more in her own body. After a second to get her bearings (alleyway, floor, handsome man, the fight! holding his arm), she released her grip on Gambit, looking up at his face.

---

Gambit would deny it to his dying day, but he was staring. Being an X-Man meant you encountered a lot of very strange things, ranging from aliens to time travellers to telepaths; it was very easy to become inured to it.

And yet this mutant's powers were something new, something strange. He'd not really known entirely what to expect from the young woman's healing power, but he certainly wouldn't have expected this.

After Shadow had entered her trance, Gambit had felt weird. Like there was someone else under his skin with him, a sensation just on the edge of discomfort.

The pain had eased though, and then the magic had started happening. After the burning in his chest had stopped, Gambit had watched his injured hand disgorge blood like vomit, before it started to knit itself back together in front of his very eyes. The Cajun had been discomforted when his fingers started to uncurl without his control, before he realized that they'd been fixed, the movement as smooth as if it'd never been injured.

And so it'd gone, Gambit feeling like he was being refreshed from the inside out, the discomfort of a second consciousness inside him now feeling like inner guardian, even though it still made him feel like his skin didn't fit him anymore.

When the last of the pain had ebbed away, so had the feeling - then the woman (Shadow, Gambit reminded himself) had startled back awake.

She blinked hard, then looked up him - with his eyes.

Gambit was very rarely at a loss for words, yet here he was, completely tongue-tied. Although his tongue had become frozen in his mouth briefly when the gash on his inner cheek had been closing, he was pretty sure she'd given him control back. Pretty sure, anyway.

"Gambit?" She asked, dark brown brows furrowing. "Are you alright?"

"Vous yeux..." He murmured, gesturing with his finger.

She blinked, confused, and that's when the black and red started bleeding out of her eyes, returning them back to what Gambit assumed was their natural blue and white.

"Eyes, petite." He repeated. "Dey looked like mine."

"Oh. Yeah, that tends to happen when I connect to someone." Shadow folded her arms, looking away. "Dunno why. I think it's just a side-effect."

Sounds from the entrance of the alleyway had Gambit glance away, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Looks like the rest of my team finally showed up." He looked back to a now tensed up Shadow, and he reached to place his healed hand on her arm. "Dey all mutants like us. You safe wit dem."

"Gambit, what happened here?" Cyclops's voice sounded out behind him, the Cajun glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. He didn't bother to stand up. "And who's this?"

"Couyon back there try'n become a mini-Sentinel, decided to test his toys out on this one." Gambit explained, nodding towards Shadow. "Gambit made sure she safe, though it got a bit messy."

"A bit?" Wolverine's voice now. "Cajun, I've seen bar brawls less bloody than this."

You could never exactly know where Cyclops was looking most of the time, but Gambit could definitely figure that he was looking between him and Shadow, and the blood staining his armour and floor around them.

"And yet you don't look like you have a scratch on you..." He said thoughtfully.

"Hah! Got some healing factor you were holding out on us, Gumbo?"

"No." Gambit looked to Shadow, who had gone nervously silent. "Gambit had some help."

"I-It's my power." She stuttered, tightening her grip on her arms. "I-I can heal people with it."

Cyclops and Wolverine glanced at each other. It was at that moment Gambit felt Jean's telepathy gently press against his mind. He bristled slightly at her intrusion, yet let her speak.

"The Professor would like to talk to the mutant you found back at the mansion."

"Her name is Shadow." Gambit responded, despite himself. There was an almost amused pause, before Jean said;

"Then the Professor would like to speak to Shadow, if she wants to."

Gambit didn't have to look at the other men to know that they'd also heard the request.

"I know this is very sudden," Cyclops began, "but there is a place we come from that can help mutants like yourself master their powers and feel safe. The professor there would like to see you."

Shadow understandably frowned, and Gambit squeezed her arm.

"He tellin' the truth, petite," he said. "You be safe dere." His gaze shifted to where Wolverine was hauling away the still unconscious cyborg. "Dose 'Friends of Humanity' not gonna be best pleased when dey find out one of their friends missin' and you be involved."

"Yes." Cyclops agreed. "Even if it was Gambit who took him down, they will target the weakest out of you two."

"Which is me..." Shadow sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Fuck."

"It don't need to be a permanent thing." Gambit reassured her. "Just long enough dat dey forget dat dis happened."

"And how long is that gonna be?" Was her bitter response.

"We...don't know." Cyclops admitted. "But what we can do is keep you safe from them during that time. Maybe help you learn more about your abilities too - you helped Gambit with them, perhaps there's more you can do?"

She chewed her lip, considering. Gambit wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he was also curious about her powers. She'd not been lying about it being 'mostly' healing - simple healing wouldn't have worked the way hers did. At least...he assumed so.

"How about I go, talk to this professor of yours, and make a decision then?" Shadow said, glancing between the two men.

"That's reasonable." Cyclops nodded. "Come on. The Blackbird isn't far from here."

"Blackbird?" Shadow asked as she and Gambit climbed to their feet. He flashed her a smile.

"Dat's our ride, petite. Hope ya not scared of flyin'."

(Next part)

[lottie-dottie-gal]

“ … “

“ so uh — l-live Lottie update. He broke up w-with me — and then left me in the park. At 10 pm. “

“ …I-im gonna call ome of parents and h-hopefully they’ll pick me up. “

[bobfloydsbabe]

I’m so close to finishing the next Eccentric Professor Bob fic. It has mutual jealousy, a heated argument, and a steamy, delicious conclusion. I’m hoping to post early next week at the latest.

Unedited sneak peek under the cut

[spaciebabie]

Does Katherine Caberet Quinn have eyes? I assume she has eyes and an actual middle name I assuredly didn't make up just now

she does indeed have eyes!

they're green :]]] shes got a frisk undertale thing goin on

ive said this b4 but a few years ago when i was designing her i was having a bit of trouble w/her face. it was off and i couldnt figure out why. and then while doodling i thought, "hm she's got some frisk undertale elements what if i gave her their eyes" and immediately i loved it. she also has the old skintone i used ta draw frisk with :]

tbh they ended up looking so similar i changed the way i drew frisk considerably so they weren't EXACTLY the same hgfhgfjgh

anyway here's both of them w/their eyes open

she follows that fandom frisk trope of them opening their eyes in certain situations. such as when they're surprised, scared, excited, etc.

also, her middle name is ann :]

[vriskaserketdaily]

oh hello vriskaserketdaily. could you draw jaspvriskasprite^2 please :)

what in the hell

no

[breadxrust]

The duty.. the duty of making fanchilds!

Say hi to Super n Hyper. Hyper is fucking stupid but tries its best in helping others, and Super has a stupidly big ego, but is just an idiot like their cousin. (Plz ignore Super's thing in the head n the face markings I already changed them)

And a group drawing of all Nutty's fanchilds by me. TAS was drawn in another part, ripped off and glued to the right position. In order they're;

Tell-A-Star; Sugarcube; Tad; Super; Hyper

They all have tummy marks, is adorable ~~

[llostwriter]

The Misery of the Songstress’ Child

Chapter 7 (Bittersweet ending for somebody) : forgiveness and understanding

TW.

Any gender.

-

Sisterhood or is it love or is it just admiration? They don’t know.

Loving someone takes courage. The heart is fragile. Even under the smallest pressure, it feels like it is going to break. Xun Fengruo once loved someone other than Duan Yihan. When Xun Fengruo was still living a life of luxury, there was this handsome guard among the rest of the guards who was always on her side. She grew a crush on him; however, she knew that a master’s relationship with a guard would cause rumors to spread. Her mother wanted her to find true love instead of being a pawn of the political system. Her father, on the other hand, was on the stricter side; he wanted her to succeed and become a powerful female official in this sexist county. Ever since she was a child, she had to follow strict rules given to her by her father, or else she’d have to kneel outside until she accepted that she was wrong and promised to never make that mistake again.

Throughout all her hardships in her mansion, he was always watching her from afar. Waiting to catch her whenever she falls. Comfort her whenever she needed it. He was the one that she secretly vented to whenever she felt something was unfair. As expected, she fell in love with him. But she never has the courage to confess her love to him, afraid of the troubles that she'll bring to him if she does. When she caught wind of her father’s imprisonment, she was shocked since her father was never one to commit crimes. Her father was harsh, but he had a strong sense of morals; there was no way that he could ever commit such crimes.

In the political field, she knew that her father did have a lot of enemies; she did expect a few to be targeting her father. Who would have known that it would be so soon? The judicial officer took the other side of the story, and her father got sentenced to the death penalty. Spending the rest of his life kept in prison before his public death penalty. Xun Fengruo went to visit him in prison, only to learn from the prison guards that her father didn’t want any visitors. She wasn’t surprised since her father had always been the stubborn type; he was too embarrassed to see his family in such a state.

She respected her father’s wish, and even on the day of his death penalty, she didn’t visit. She wanted her last memories with her father to be good instead of it being her father’s death. The maids, servants, and guards left to find better masters. The man that she loved stayed, but she knew that she couldn’t support him; therefore, she had to convince him to leave. Lied about her being fine and how she needed him gone to start anew.

The man hesitated; in the end, he still left like the rest.

Her mother, filled with grief, went into depression and got sick. To pay for the medicines, she picked the job as a songstress. Even despite that, the medicine wasn’t much help, and her mother died. Leaving her alone. She continued her job as a songstress to make ends meet.

———

By the day she abandoned her child, she met him again. Almost immediately, she grabbed one of his arms like a life-saving plant, which caught his attention. He lowered his guard when he realized that it was her. He leads her to his home so that they can have a proper chat after all those years. Xun Fengruo didn’t mention the existence of the child, only mentioning how she was almost assaulted by one of her clients. He suggested for her to stay and that he’d provide for her. She knew that she was blacklisted and had nowhere to go, so she accepted his offer.

He was the only man, other than her father, that she trusted in her life. He followed through with his promise and provided food and clothing for her. She did trust him; however, ever since the incidents, her trust in males has decreased. But as the days turned into years, her trust in him regained. She didn’t sleep with him since she was insecure about her body. She wanted him to see her best self. The stretch marks left by her pregnancy haunted her, damaging her body image. During her time period of serving customers in bed, she always put heavy foundations on her abdomen area to hide the marks. Even after all those years, her stretch marks were still there, and she was worried that the man would be disgusted by her. And maybe even hate her for knowing that she abandoned her child.

On that night, she found out that she was wrong. He didn’t judge her; in fact, he comforted her and caressed her stretched marks with his fingers. Every stretch that he gives her with every row of his hips against hers, limbs entangled, him kissing away her tears during the passion as to reassure her. With the last push, she felt warmth. It was a different type of warmth, one that she didn’t want to pull away from. They stayed there for a while, until he pulled out. For the rest of the night, she slept soundly in his arms for the first time in forever.

Their family was complete with the birth of their son. He shared the same features as his father; the son was almost like a complete replica of the man. Everything was perfect. Until one day she came home, only to witness the brutal scene of the man that she loved and their son dead. She had a mental breakdown, picking up a knife hoping that she could follow them into their afterlife, only to be stopped by a hand.

She widened her eyes as she realized who the owner of it was. It was her former child. Her former child was the culprit. Xun Fengruo completely lost her mind as she began laughing to herself at how ridiculous it was. “I should have killed you when I had the chance," she said and repeated herself. She charged at the figure with the knife in hand. Only for her hair to be grabbed and for her face to be slammed straight in the cut-open abdomen of her husband. “Eat.” The other side commanded her.

A force seems to control her body; she felt so hungry... With that, she begins to feast upon the red organs. She didn’t know how long it lasted, but by the time that the feeling was gone, the other was gone. She realized what she had done. Realization settled down on her, until she threw up all over the floor. Since she couldn’t defeat the other, she could only go to hell to pay for her sins; it was better than living in this world. She cut herself, only to find out the wound completely healed itself.

She was granted immortality, but at what cause?

—-

During the first half of your childhood, you assumed that she must have died. Maybe that would have been better than the feeling of betrayal. It was better for her to die earlier on than for you to realize that she purposely abandoned you. No child deserves to be abandoned by their parent. But some don’t have a choice.

It was only when you realized the whole situation that you realized that your mother was just the victim of the situation. She shouldn’t be blamed for all of it. She deserves to find her own happiness. In this life, you cut off all contact with your mother, allowing her to live her perfect life. Without you.

The jealousy and hatred of her leaving you is replaced by understanding. There were things that you never meant to have. Mother love included.

Succeeds in preventing the moment of your first murdering from happening. But could you prevent the rest?

[zagreusm]

Happy New Year!

[liebgotts-lovergirl]

Fire On Fire: Chapter 24

(Ch. 23) ... (Ch. 1)

II Gallery II Symbol Guide II

Summary: "No, I could never give you peace."

WARNINGS: Angst, Espionage, the usual

Taglist: @latibvles @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs @mccall-muffin @lieutenant-speirs @emmythespacecowgirl @holdingforgeneralhugs @parajumpboots @hxad-ovxr-hxart @sleepisforcowards @indigo-luvers @ax-elcfucker-blog @chaosklutz @mads-weasley @vibing-away @eightysix-baby @ithinkabouttzu

Contemporary: October 25th, 1944. Driel, Netherlands.

After she finished her story, Alix hung her head, unwilling or unable to glance up, afraid of what she’d see reflected back at her in those pools of honey-brown...

Disgust. Shock. Pity. 

Or worse: Admiration. Affection. Kindness.

Things she didn’t deserve, especially not from Joe.

She hadn’t even realized she'd reached for his hand until he gave it a light, reassuring squeeze. But she didn’t pull away, instead letting their fingers rest together, lightly intertwined.

In another life, she thought to herself. Maybe if things were different...

For a brief second, the spy allowed her mind to meander, imagining what it might be like to live in a world with no war, no Millicent, no familial pressure, a world where they could love each other out loud with nothing standing in their way.

But as Alix studied the subtle burgundy of her chipped nail polish, the ink blotches on Joe's fingertips brought her crashing back to earth.

That wasn't the world they lived in.

That wasn't a world she'd ever see.

The soft rasp of gravel in Joe’s voice brought her focus back. 

"That Larsson guy really threatened to kick you out 'cause you didn’t wanna kill a fuckin' kid?"

Alix nodded and she could hear a dangerous, razor-sharp edge enter his tone but it wasn't directed at her. 

"I'd like to meet the guy." 

It was a simple statement but the way Joe had said "meet" sounded an awful lot like "murder". 

"You wouldn't like him," Alix replied with a rueful grimace and Joe chuckled darkly and moved to crack his knuckles. 

"Yeah well, after me and him go a few rounds in the ring, I bet he wouldn't like me too much either." 

Alix turned her head away to hide her smile and there was another beat of silence between the pair before Joe spoke again. 

“Y'know that’s not all you are, right?” 

Alix's head jerked up in surprise before she could stop it. 

"What?" 

"A killer," the technician clarified and she could feel the physical shift of him rubbing the back of his neck, scruffing up his light brown hair. 

"I don't give a shit what he…what they told you. You're so much fuckin' more than that." 

Alix pressed her lips into a grimace. 

She wanted to believe him, she really did. But after a month of silence and then that letter…everything he said just rang hollow.

“You don’t know me," the spy mumbled defensively. “Not really.” 

If you did, you wouldn’t want me.

But Joe gently leaned his shoulder against hers again. 

"I do though," he replied, the light rasp in his voice contrasting with the softness of his tone. "Better than ya think." 

"Prove it then," Alix challenged as she crossed her arms and Joe tilted his head in thought, clearly pondering an opener. 

“'Kay, well, your favorite color is red–” 

Alix opened her mouth to correct him but Joe was quicker. 

“I know, I know, 'scarlet'…” He commented with exaggerated air quotes before adding wryly, “But it's the same thing, which is fuckin’ red.” 

“Is that all you’ve got?” the spy inquired cynically as she bit back a giggle at his dramatics.

“And you got a smart-ass comment for everything,” Joe teased before deftly tugging a pack of Chesterfields from his pocket.

“Want one?” 

Alix nodded eagerly, thanking him as she plucked one from the packaging but when the technician retrieved his Zippo, Alix hesitated. 

She knew better than to bring her face closer so he could give her a light. 

She would have to lean in close to his lips, almost as if… she shook her head, trying to banish the thought. 

His heart belongs to someone else, she reminded herself. It wouldn’t be right.

Noticing her reluctance, Joe’s face seemed to fall, but he handed her the lighter anyway, his fingertips brushing ever so slightly against hers as he pressed the smooth metal into her grasp.

Alix tried to ignore the giddy sensation and focused on lighting her cigarette while he resumed his Herculean task.

"You never take your rosary off," he pointed out after a slow drag. “And you say you don’t believe it does anything but when you get nervous, you still bite your lip and reach for it anyway.” 

Did she really? The spy was impressed and a little intrigued but still tried her hardest to feign nonchalance for pride’s sake.

“Congratulations,” Alix remarked dryly. “You have eyes.” 

Joe cocked an eyebrow. 

“Shit, alright, tough crowd,” he quipped with a smirk. 

“Lemme think… You only drink Gin & Tonics now ‘cause ya went a little too hard on the vodka at some party once and spent the rest of the night upchucking into the bushes.”

Alix felt her cheeks beginning to flush, now wishing distinctly that she would evaporate on the spot. 

Had she really done that? She only hoped to God it hadn’t been in front of him.

But Joe seemed to take her silent mortification as skepticism because he added, “Muck told me." 

"That bastard," Alix muttered but there was no venom behind her words and Joe chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“Go easy on the guy,” the Californian joked with a sheepish grin. “It was a while back. I just got a good memory, ‘specially when it comes to you, I guess.” 

Alix took a quick drag and wound a strand of her hair around finger absentmindedly, unsure of quite how to respond to his kindness.

“Well thank you… I think?” 

“Don’t thank me yet, Ziskeit,” Joe shrugged with an easy smile. 

“‘Cause I ain’t done."

He took a short drag, watching the smoke rise in spiraling plumes before giving her a sly look out of the corner of his sparkling brown eyes. 

“You left your window unlocked fer me when we were back in Aldbourne so I could get into your room without anybody seein' me–”

He chuckled and teasingly gave her a light nudge.

"--Not that it mattered anyway ‘cause you left me with so many fuckin' hickeys and scratches that our old CO said it looked like I’d been mauled by a fuckin’ bear.”

Alix drew her bottom lip between her teeth and dropped her gaze to the ground, certain now that she was a brilliant shade of crimson. 

Joe haphazardly tossed his cigarette away before continuing, 

“You been trained in deception or whatever but when it comes to people close to ya, y'can’t lie for shit. Like right now–" 

He gently slid a finger under the spy’s chin and gently turned her to face him. 

“– Tell me you ain’t got feelings for me.”

Her eyes must’ve looked like saucers.

“W-What?” she choked out, blinking in confusion as her heartbeat stuttering to a near-stop at his sudden proximity.

“Tell me you don't want me, Zees,” he insisted, the huskiness of his voice seeming to slow time and his gaze seemed to flit down to her lips before returning to her eyes.  

"'Cause I think you do."

It was a dare but behind his trademark cockiness was a current of desperation, his warm whiskey eyes pleading with her for the truth, whatever it might be. 

“Look, you want me outta your life for good, all you gotta do is say it: say you don’t want me and mean it. Yeah, ‘s gonna hurt like a bitch, I'm not gonna bullshit ya, but I gotta know, Zees. 'Cause right now...Me and you and Doc, I-"

His voice broke and he took a second before running his thumb lightly across her cheek, brushing away a tear. 

She hadn't even realized she'd been crying.

The paratrooper set his jaw and when he spoke again, there was a quiet determination in his voice, as though he was forcing it under control.

"Zees, if I gotta love you from a distance, then that's just what I gotta do.”

Alix faltered, momentarily lost for words, her stunned expression mirrored in the glossy reflection of Joe’s dark eyes.

The words were on the tip of her tongue: 

I love you. I want you, only you. Always you.

But she knew she couldn’t say them, no matter how badly she wanted to.

It wouldn’t be fair– 

Not to Millicent, who was counting on her sweetheart to be faithful from an ocean away. 

Not to Gene, whose schoolboy crush seemed to be the only thing keeping him from crumbling to pieces some days.

And most importantly, not to Joe who deserved far better than a damaged girl who could never give him the peace his turbulent soul so desperately longed for.

Her chest ached helplessly, her pulse seeming to radiate through her upper body as though her heart was trying to force its way to him. 

“Joey, I-”

The thunderous roar of her name being called cut her off before she could get any further and her head swiveled immediately toward the sound. 

It was her case officer who burst into the clearing with a radio in one hand and a bag in the other, its red stripes designating it as an OSS burn bag. 

“Martinelli, grab your shit,” Nixon commanded, looking more alert than she'd seen him since Survival drills. “We’ve got to move now!” 

With a last apologetic glance in Joe’s direction, Alix sprang to her feet and hurriedly began stuffing her stack of comic books into her canvas bag before bolting off after her handler, who was already several strides ahead of her and showing no signs of stopping.

“Hey! Hey Nix!” she called after him, trying to provoke some sort of response but instead of his usual dramatics over her neglecting to address him properly, he ordered her to hand over her bag. 

Once she had, he began tearing through it like a madman, rifling through her comics and the letter from her aunt, pushing past her knives, garrote wire, and the vials of Prussic Acid neatly rolled into bandages. 

“What the hell– ?” Alix demanded just as he swiped her false documents from the side pocket and shoved them into his burn bag.

“Have you lost your mind?!" she hissed, trying to grab his arm to stop him. "I fucking need those!” 

"Not anymore you don't," Nixon reported, shrugging her off and lighting the Zippo. “You've been compromised.”  

"What, how?!" 

Alix felt her stomach lurch and she searched her handler’s face for the slightest trace of deception but found none.

 

"Madonna mia," she breathed as they both watched the burn bag begin to crackle, the terrifying reality sinking in. 

"How bad was the leak?"

"Bad," Nixon uttered, shaking his head. 

"Payce and De Luca were executed yesterday. Bouchard's been captured. Perrault's MIA. God only knows about the rest. I haven't heard."

They might've captured Jennie?!

Alix took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm her racing thoughts and keep a cool head. 

"You'll have to lay low for awhile," Nixon stated, sounding almost apologetic as they watched her identity papers begin to disintegrate in the blaze. 

"Donovan's got a place you can go, an agency safehouse. I'll bring you updates when I can." 

"How many?” she asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"How many of my covers have been compromised…?" 

The captain swallowed hard before responding, his voice coming out as brittle as broken bone.

“All of them.”