I Need Ideas For Mostly Remy 😭😭

Worlds Apart, Minds Connected

Synopsis; After a mission goes disastrously wrong, you and Charles are separated, trapped in an unstable facility with only a telepathic link to guide you back to each other. As he navigates you through the darkness, your minds grow closer in ways neither of you expected, creating a bond that will be hard to let go once you finally reunite. The question lingers: will the connection forged in crisis survive beyond the danger?

Warnings; None but kissing the LOVELY James McAvoy uggghhhhh-

Requested by @kaley612!

The last thing you remember is Charles shouting your name before the explosion. The impact threw you back, slamming you against something hard and cold. Dazed and aching, you pushed yourself up, trying to make sense of the chaos around you. Dust settled like snowflakes, a reminder of the blast that had ripped through the building.

The connection flares to life—a warmth, gentle and insistent, nudging at the edges of your mind.

“Can you hear me?”

Charles’s voice is like a balm, familiar and grounding. Relief floods through you as you close your eyes, focusing on that connection.

“Yes, I’m here,” you answer, your mental voice steadier than you feel.

“Are you hurt?”

You swallow, taking quick stock. A few bruises, a splitting headache, but nothing broken. “I’ll survive. What about you?”

“Just a scratch,” he says, though you sense he is holding back. “Listen, we’re separated. I can’t get to you from where I am—there’s debris blocking my path. But I’ll guide you. If we keep this link open, I can see what you see. All you have to do is keep going. Can you do that?”

Your heart pounds, but Charles’s steady presence brings an odd calm over you. “I trust you.”

And, for a beat, there’s silence. You feel a brush of something—warmth, reassurance, and a trace of something deeper that he quickly shields.

“Then let’s go,” he says, his voice like a hand reaching through the darkness.

You stand and begin to move, Charles’s presence a constant pulse in your mind. Each step is careful, shadows twisting as you make your way down the broken hallways, Charles murmuring directions and gentle encouragements, his voice steady even when your path grows perilous. If you could be with him right now, you'd kiss him. As a thank you of course. Nothing more.

“You’re doing well,” he says softly, his tone dipped in admiration. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Somehow, with him there—though only in your mind—it feels true.

"Thank you, Charles. Where do I go now?"

"Charles?" Your heart dropped before you heard him again.

"I'm here, I'm here. Just... Do you really want to thank me with a kiss?"

Huh. Shit.

You freeze, heat rushing to your cheeks as his question settles in.

“I… thought you couldn’t see thoughts I didn’t direct to you,” you stammer, trying to push the words out as smoothly as possible.

There’s a soft chuckle on his end, warm and teasing. “That’s true… unless you think it loudly.”

You huff, half-embarrassed, half-defiant. His voice is quieter now, almost reverent. “I’m waiting.”

With renewed determination, you make your way down the dark hallway, Charles guiding you through each step and turn until you see the faint light of an exit. Your heart races, each footfall bringing you closer to him. And then, just as you round a corner, there he is, waiting—dust-covered, scratched, but alive and whole.

Without thinking, you run to him, and he opens his arms, catching you before you even realize you’ve thrown yourself into his embrace. His hands settle around you, firm and reassuring, as he lets out a sigh of relief that mirrors your own.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you press a kiss to his lips, a gesture of thanks, of everything left unsaid. Charles freezes for a fraction of a second, then responds, his lips gentle but warm against yours, his hands cradling you like something he never intends to let go.

When you pull back, breathless and unsure, he offers a small, tender smile. “I think we both needed that.”

“Maybe so," you whisper, a smile breaking through your own exhaustion.

And as you stand there, safe and together, the unspoken promise of something more lingers between you, fragile but very, very real.

(JAMES MCAVOY JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE-)

Plz do not copy or translate! -Callme_Bunni

Just got done watchging X-Men '97 ep 9 w my baddie pookie bear

Uhm. What the actual fuck?-

I cant stop drawing Pete DiNunzio from Eltingville Club...... 😭

(And Jerry)

EDIT: These are my designs of them btw! Jerry just has a lip ring and Pete has gages, nose ring and snake bites bc why not?

I got a new phone bc mine was glitching out and was rlly old and was dying fast but like- Is it spoiled to say I don't want it? I AM GRATEFUL DO NOT GET ME WRONG IM HAOPY MY MOM GOT ME THIS AND PAYED FOR IT- But I was happy with my old one. I had everything I ever needed and sure, it died fast and it'd glitch and everything but I liked it. Maybe I'm just being privileged(?) Idk guys.

{I love Wade. He's so silly}

2 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

I generally did not notice how long I've had Tumblr tbh 😅

reblog if you’re a safe place for:

lesbian

gay

bisexual

transgender

queer

pansexual

demisexual

ace

hopeless romantics

cis-men

cis-women

non binary folks

the whole spectrum etc…

follow everyone who reblogs ;)

Okay, so, idk who cares but,

I don't just write fanfics! This is a story I've been working on for only about a week called "All in Human Nature" and it is a Thriller Book about a group of friends who go to a cabin but something goes very, very dark in the middle of their mid-summer trip.

IF YOU FIND ART OF SCOTT, LOGAN, REMY, MAGNETO, VENOM, EDDIE BROCK, WHATEVER PLZ TAG ME AND I AM IN YOUR DEBT!!!!

Playin' Hearts

Synopsis; A playful game of pickpocketing with Gambit turns into a quiet evening of jazz, dancing, and stolen moments. As the teasing gives way to sincerity, you find the courage to make the first move, discovering that some risks are worth taking. Warnings; None kits! <3

You frowned as your hand brushed against something unfamiliar in your coat pocket. Fishing it out, you discovered a playing card—a queen of hearts—marked with a small, flourished "R" in the corner. You turned it over, puzzled, trying to figure out how it had gotten there.

“You dropped somethin’, chérie,” came a familiar, honeyed voice behind you.

Spinning around, you found Remy leaning casually against the doorframe, twirling another card between his fingers. That trademark smirk of his was firmly in place, a glint of mischief lighting his red-on-black eyes.

"Did I now?" you asked, holding up the card. "Care to explain how it ended up in my pocket?"

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Can’t blame me for wantin’ to stay close to you, non? Thought you might enjoy a lil’ reminder of me.”

Rolling your eyes, you stepped closer, card in hand. “You’re telling me you pickpocketed me just to leave… this?”

“Not just any card, chère.” He tapped the queen of hearts with his fingertip. “It’s got a meanin’. You’re sharp; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You couldn’t help the warmth rising to your cheeks, but you refused to let him win so easily. “If you’re so good at sneaking things into my pockets, guess I’ll have to start keeping them zipped.”

“Aw, now don’t do that,” he teased, his voice a low, velvety drawl. “Would make my job so much less fun.”

Shaking your head, you tried to hide your smile as you walked away, but his chuckle followed you down the hall. When you reached into your pocket later that day and found another card—a joker this time—you couldn’t help but laugh.

Gambit always had a way of leaving an impression.

Later that evening, you wandered into the common room to find Remy sitting on the couch, shuffling his deck of cards with practiced ease. He looked up as you entered, that perpetual smirk softening into something warmer when he saw you.

“Evenin’, chère,” he drawled, sliding the cards into a neat stack and setting them aside. “Come to accuse me of more mischief?”

You crossed your arms, pretending to consider. “Depends. Find anything else to slip into my pockets?”

He stood, hands raised in mock innocence. “Now why would I risk it? You’d catch me red-handed.”

“Maybe I’d let you off easy.” The words escaped before you could think twice, and the flicker of surprise in his expression sent your heart racing.

Remy stepped closer, his movements fluid and unhurried. “Careful, mon cœur. A man could take that as an invitation.”

You tilted your head, trying to keep your composure. “And what if it is?”

For a moment, the teasing glint in his eyes shifted to something deeper, more earnest. Without a word, he reached for the old radio on the shelf and turned the dial until soft jazz crackled through the room.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

Caught off guard, you hesitated. “I don’t—”

“Don’t matter if you can,” he interrupted gently, taking your hand in his. “Just follow my lead.”

Before you could argue, he pulled you close, one hand settling lightly on your waist while the other held your hand securely in his. The warmth of his touch and the way he swayed with effortless rhythm made it impossible not to relax.

The world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, moving together in the soft glow of the room. You found yourself smiling as his fingers gave yours a playful squeeze.

“You’re a natural, chère,” he murmured, his voice low and velvety.

Your eyes met his, and suddenly, the teasing facade he so often wore was gone, replaced by something vulnerable and inviting. Heart pounding, you gathered every ounce of courage you had and leaned up, brushing your lips against his.

For a moment, the world stilled. Then, his hand tightened gently at your waist, pulling you closer as he returned the kiss with a slow, deliberate passion that left you breathless.

When you finally pulled back, his lips curved into a grin that could only be described as triumphant. “Took you long enough,” he teased, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d make the first move,” you countered, your boldness surprising even yourself.

Remy chuckled, his forehead resting lightly against yours. “Chérie, if I’d known that, I wouldn’t have wasted so much time with cards.”

And with that, he spun you back into the dance, holding you close as the music played on

(GAMBIT CONTENT YAY!)