Happy Day 1 of @roguegambitweek and @romy-con!! To celebrate, I'm posting some pics of my beloved Romy Soosoo Toys figurines, the pride of my collection. 😭💖❤️🔥
Just a friendly reminder that cosplay entries are closing June 1st! You should be getting emails next week if you already submitted with your exhibitor number. Be on the lookout for those!
He is charming, whimsical, boisterous, hedonistic, crafty, cunning, perceptive, mercurial; he's humorous and happy-go-lucky, until circumstances demand otherwise; he's loving, and loyal to those he loves, though petulant if things don't go his way; on a job he's pragmatic and endlessly professional, but at heart he's kind and generous and empathic; he's flighty, flippant, and foolhardy, staunchly feminist, sometimes goofy and often nerdy... ...
But he is not a baby girl.
...
Oh wait, you said Romy, not Remy. Okay, let me think 🤔
...
Okay, I'm not immediately coming up with something specifically Romy-related, but I do have a tangentially related unpopular opinion to share, and it's this:
Katie Thompson writes a banger Rogue, but her Gambit is often a little off; and Gail Simone's Uncanny is mediocre.
And before I forget... Thank you for loving my fics! 😚
This meaty anthology features stories and full colour art featuring our fave couple by some of the most talented Romy writers and artists in the fandom.
I wrote an exclusive story, 'Never Just Dinner', for the anthology, which hasn't been posted online, so if you enjoy my Romy fic, make sure you get the book! I also drew an exclusive art piece too. 😊
Best of all - all proceeds go to the Canadian Cancer Society, so it's for a great cause!
You can make your purchase at:
From alien threats in the Louisiana bayou to Creole demons in an alternate universe, legendary lovers Rogue and Gambit are always ready for
Calling all #Romy fans! If you sail the #RogueandGambit ship, make sure to get this new anthology, featuring some of the most talented writers and artists in the fandom! 🤩🎊 You can get it at https://tinyurl.com/27aq93j9
It also features an exclusive story and artwork by yours truly 😁😉
Major props go to editor James Silvester for getting this project off the ground, and for bringing it to completion. You should be proud, mate! ☺️💖
I guess this is as good a time as any to share this wonderful Romy commission done by the super talented @izbyzz on Instagram/ @isa_anartist on Twitter! It's Rogue and Gambit from my AU fic, The Tailor & The Seamstress 🧵🪡
I love your fic Coda, especially the Thieves guild stuff. The politics between them and the Assassins were super interesting.
So my question is, in regard to succession for guild master, would a heir go through any political training aside from the thievery?
That is a really awesome question, and I'm sorry it took me so long to reply to it, because it's not something I've really thought about in detail, but your question caused me to mull it over for several weeks. 😜
My feeling is that the Guilds don't teach through schooling but through doing - observation, apprenticeship, shadowing. A student will learn what I like to call their 'Guildcraft' - thieving, assassination, whatever - through all of those things, and I would imagine that inner circle children would learn Guild politics and diplomacy by being taken on diplomatic meetings between Guilds, benefactors and clients, at first as observers, and then later in a participatory aspect as they grow older. I should imagine that inner circle children that show an aptitude for statecraft would be funnelled into a dedicated role as a 'counsel' to the Guild leader.
I would imagine that it would be slightly different for a Guild heir as they would have to have a good grasp of the Guildcraft as well as be (at least) an adept politician. They would of course have their council to help them, but I do think they would be encouraged as much as possible to take part in and be proficient in Guild politics. I'd imagine any leader who was poor at such things would be pretty quickly usurped. Being a Guild member is quite a cut-throat business after all 😉
In terms of Coda, the HoC AU - and any AU where Rogue and Gambit end up having children - anything concerned with heirs and succession is bound to be a little messy because of the split loyalties of the parents. Rogue is a bona fide X-Man, and let's face it, Remy's first loyalty is really to the X-Men nowadays. So their children would be brought up in that world, and at the very least would split their time between the X-Men and the Thieves Guild - and would probably see more of the former. And while I do think Remy would be excellent at teaching his children the Guildcraft, I'm not so sure he would be so diligent in giving them hands on training in diplomacy. I think he would try to pass it on, but the opportunity to do it for real might not be so open to them.
In the HoC universe, it would be even more difficult because Remy is basically a pariah in his own hometown, and would not be granted access to the inner machinations of the Guilds. And I do think there would be some tension because even though Olivier LeBeau would be the heir to the Thieves Guild, both his parents would be eager for him to choose his own destiny. I imagine that this would be problematic for both Jean-Luc and Henri, who would be keen to have a strong heir take on the Guild after they are gone, and I do see Olivier as being relatively torn about his future with the X-Men/the Thieves Guild. I mean, if I were to continue writing the HoC AU into the future, that would be Olivier LeBeau's arc.
I have thought a lot about how the future of HoC would play out, and I actually see Romy's daughter, Rebecca LeBeau, eventually becoming the heir to the Thieves Guild, because she is a more natural fit. Olivier is more of an X-Man; Rebecca is more of a thief. The resolution of both of the LeBeau kids would be them finally figuring this out and coming to terms with it.
Anyway, I hope this makes sense, as the above was literally all a stream of consciousness! And thanks for getting me to articulate these extra little things that I have thought about, but have never really documented. 😊
A big Season's Greetings from me to Romy Nation! To celebrate the festive season, I'm sharing this deleted/alternative scene from 52 Pickup.
Enjoy, and Merry Smutmas, everyone! 😘
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He didn’t glance back.
Only when the bedroom door slid shut behind them and closed with a click did he let go of her hand and turn to face her.
That look, from his dark, dark eyes, stirred her like nothing else. She wanted him. In a way that was brash and impatient and impartial – all the messy details in between be damned.
She pushed him up against the door with one hand and paused, her gaze sweeping over his body like a predator surveying its prey – he was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with a tempo that she realised matched her own. She wet her lips and gazed back up at him. There was this fraction of a smile on his lips, barely there, almost as if he knew something she didn’t. The sight of it was all at once irritating and titillating, like a secret she’d never know. A part of her wanted his thoughts. A part of her wanted to ‘face with him in ways that weren’t even possible.
She slipped a hand round the back of his neck and gripped a fistful of his hair, facing him down like she was squaring up for a fight.
Only then did the barely-there smile fade from his lips. Whatever was in her eyes, he’d read it. This wasn’t play. She pulled his head down towards hers and tilted her face into his kiss. Their mouths moved together, slowly at first, then with growing passion. The equation of their lust was so obvious, so simple, that it amazed her that it had taken this long for them to get here, that the distractions outside of it had seemed so important. It impressed upon her a sense of wasted time and she dropped her hand to his stomach, then lower.
He was naked under the sweatpants, already – already – half hard, and she stroked him through the soft fabric, aroused by the memory of him inside her, by the unashamed need for it again.
He made a sound in the back of his throat without breaking their kiss, one that simultaneously said stop and more, please. It was the first real signal of submission he’d given her, the first sign that she was the one in control. She broke their kiss and watched his face as she stroked him, watched what she did to him – an incredible turn-on in and of itself.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered – an honest tease. She gave him an enigmatic little smile and released him, a temporary mercy that he probably didn’t want at all. She gripped the hem of his tee and slowly tugged it up his torso. She pulled the thing off of him and tossed it aside.
The breaths were surging through his body like the rhythm of the tides; she leaned in and kissed his collarbone, a tiny concession that for some reason she felt compelled to give him. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pants and she teased the things down over his hips, his thighs… and when they’d finally hit the ground he was back in her hand and she was pleasuring him relentlessly.
The back of his head hit the door, but he didn’t make a sound, just let out this long, shallow, wavering breath. For several moments he was off in some other place, and she bit her lip against a wicked little smile, at what she knew she must be doing to him – until he lowered his head again and fixed her a glare that was one part smouldering and one part you dirty bitch, which immediately wiped the smile from her face. His fist clamped onto her wrist roughly, halting her mid-action.
“I will come in your hand if you don’t stop that right now, chere,” he told her in a voice that almost made it sound like a threat.
She resisted the urge to tell him that was probably the idea, that there was worse she could inflict on him. She had the stark impulsion to get on her knees and taste him, suck him, make him beg for her in ways he’d never begged a woman before. But she wanted the violent intimacy of him inside her more, and so she released him. His breaths lengthened, steadied. He lifted her arm and slowly backed her away from him, manoeuvring her round so that they’d switched positions. He pressed her arm up against the wall and then his body against hers; his erection was hot and hard against her stomach and it took her breath away. Up till this moment he’d been passive, letting her figure out whatever pace she wanted to set, and it was only now, when he had her where he had her now, that she realised just how much he’d been holding back.
He smiled and leaned in, his mouth capturing hers in a passionate yet brief kiss that left her wanting more as soon as he’d taken it away. Slowly, inch by painful inch, he began to roll the vest up past her ribcage, her breasts, over her head, flinging it aside. Almost immediately his hands were gliding over her body as if to reacquaint themselves with something too long denied.
They kissed again, soft, fleeting nips that paused only when he began to push her shorts and underwear down over her hips and thighs. She watched on as he got to his knees in front of her – a pose of almost blatant supplication – and peeled the rest of her clothing down her legs, without once breaking eye contact with her. His palms ran up her calves to the backs of her knees, caressing her there in light circles before hooking her left leg and raising it slightly. Instinctively her hands slid through his hair, and he shifted slightly, taking a little of her weight against his shoulder.
He kissed the junction of her thigh, and then the hot, wet centre of her.
For a few seconds everything tunnelled, her senses exploding in a blazing white heat of pleasure.
A long, inarticulate moan left her mouth, and oh Lord she was ready to do anything he wanted, he could tempt her to any madness possible and she would say yes… …
No sooner had the thought entered her mind than he had backed away from her – she heard him laugh, soft and playful, a sure sign that this was his way of levelling the playing field between them, of getting back at her. He kissed his way leisurely back up her body, evidently in no hurry to appease either her desire or his own. Suddenly his lips were there, on her throat, her neck, her chin, her ear – she swivelled her face so that she could finally taste him, and this time their kiss was long and deep and greedy. When they pulled apart there was this look on his face – serious, no smiles – that was both pleasurable and deeply unsettling to her. She didn’t have the inclination to analyse it – the hot weight of her lust was like an addiction in itself, demanding the transitory bliss of release at any cost. Her hand grasped his and she led him over to the bed with a barely veiled impatience. The mattress creaked as she knelt on it; she looked back over her shoulder at him, her gaze sweeping over his body, wondering, momentarily, at the fact that such a beautiful, clever, glorious man as him could want a broken thing like her.
His palm touched the small of her back, smoothing down over her buttock, like she was a statue, a work of art, not a broken thing at all. What he made her feel was unspoiled. Whole.
“Come here,” she murmured.
He joined her on the bed, and she put her hands on his shoulders, pushing gently. He read the cue effortlessly, lying back against the pillows and looking up at her, his fingers running the length of her lower arm, down, up, down again.
Somehow she reminded herself to breathe, and she straddled his long, lean body, the press of her knees sinking into the mattress, her heart beating so damn fast she felt sure he could hear it. She reached back with her right hand, found him, guided him gently into her… And when he was in as far as he could go she blinked and set her teeth firmly into her bottom lip, holding back a strangled moan of pleasure.
She looked down at him.
He was looking up at her like this was the first time they’d had sex.
He reached up and ran his thumb against her bottom lip, making her release it from the clench of her teeth and that was when the moan she’d been trying to hold back came out.
There was this smile on his face that almost made her wonder who was really in control… until she realised that both and neither of them were, and that was okay.
She moved against him slowly, rolling her hips into a cadence that she at first thought too slow but that seemed right. His hands slid up her thighs to her hips and round her backside… and then he was moving with her, matching her effortlessly. There was a simplicity to the moment, an artless spontaneity – neither one had to guess the other. They were in perfect concert without having to share a word or a look. His right hand came up, his fist curling into her hair, gently pulling her down towards him and into his kiss. Almost simultaneously their pace began to quicken, the long-denied demands of their desire driving their selfish quest for satisfaction as they ground and thrust greedily against one another.
It seemed that hardly a few seconds had passed before her orgasm hit her, an angry, juddering starburst that left her reeling and breathless. Time tunnelled and when she came out the other side her forehead was pressed against his, her heartbeat slamming through her entire body, the echoing drumbeat of her pleasure. She didn’t even realise she was breathing until his hand curled around her neck and he recaptured her mouth like he could gobble up every last breath she possessed.
For a few blissful moments there was nothing but their meandering touches and their sugar sweet kiss. When they surfaced it was at the exact same second – she’d given up wondering at how completely in sync they were. He muttered something under his breath that she didn’t understand, something impatient, almost fierce. Without warning he’d flipped her over onto her back, all but taking the wind out of her. His gaze was feral, an expression she’d never seen in him before, and for the first time she felt truly intimidated by him. He stared her down like a wild thing, and almost at once his body was surging up into her with an urgency that was almost brutal, that made her cry out loud. With every stroke he impelled her submission in a way she’d never experienced or realised she wanted before. Her nails gripped his back as she tried to anchor herself against his onslaught, this unexpected display of power, one that she couldn’t help but marvel at. Here was something she’d never seen before – a man chasing down his own pleasure, teeth grit, eyes unfocused, almost as if she wasn’t even there at all.
It was only when her palm slipped round the nape of his neck that he seemed to surface; his eyes snapped to hers and he licked his lips, gave her a wolfish smile, a brief ‘hello’ tucked somewhere in there. He shifted up her slightly, his left arm circling her shoulders – he slowed his pace, his rhythm changing completely. Pleasure rippled through her again, coaxing an involuntary moan from her mouth; she wrapped her legs around his, pressing her lips against his shoulder as she rocked back against him instinctively. It was only when she came a second time that he switched back up to deep, hard thrusts; he gave a breathless moan, a sound of pure, animal abandon – and suddenly there was the warm, liquid pulse of his orgasm, deep inside of her.
When his eyes finally focused on her again it was like he was seeing stars.
“Jesus, chere,” he muttered.
She laughed lightly and pulled him down so that his forehead was resting lightly against hers, the two of them breathing together in wonderful tandem.
“Like I said,” she murmured back playfully, “we make a good team. Huh, sugah?”
The clichéd Southern term of endearment, and the unexpectedly pitch perfect accent with which it was delivered, brought first a smile to his lips, then a laugh.
“I swear you hide that accent so fuckin’ good every time I hear it it’s almost like I’m back home.”
He said it all in a single, heartfelt breath, and there was a sadness there that touched her. She slid her palms up over the familiar rasp of his stubble and drew him down into a slow, sensuous kiss. It was a wonderful moment of tender passion that brought home to her just how far uncoupled sex and passion had become for her over the years. The thought was frightening but not unpleasant. If anything it made her all the more impatient to recover what suddenly seemed like lost ground to her. There were so many things she wanted to do with him and yet there was so little time.
“What?” he asked her when they’d broken apart and he could see the look in her eyes.
“Nothing,” she murmured. “I’m just wondering what to do with you next…”
He laughed softly, shifting slightly so that he could trail feather-light kisses down her neck to her collarbone to her breast.
“Do whatever you want,” he murmured round her nipple, “I’m all yours for tonight.”
The words were sweet and sexy and made her heart ache. Tonight didn’t seem long enough. It wasn’t long enough to stave off all the silly, unimportant things that existed outside this room. For so long now she’d plotted this lonely course, year after year of exile, of other peoples’ lives. And now she was close, so painfully close, to finding all the missing pieces that made up her. There was so much she’d sacrificed for it. So much she’d lost. This would just be another thing.
In a day or two he would be gone, and once again she’d be what she’d always been – alone.
The way you wrote Gambit and Mystique beefing in the house of cards trilogy was so hilarious. Their verbal altercations always cracked me up, and gambit always managed to get under her skin. It’s even funnier considering in that verse, Mystique is gonna have to accept the fact her daughter is having a baby with a man she loathes. 😭
I mean, one of the most fun things to write is Gambit and Mystique beefing at each other. 😂
TBH, the way I have envisioned the future of that universe, once Raven becomes a grandma, she mellows out some. She’ll never be 100% cool with Remy, but since he’s the grandbaby daddy, she’ll tolerate him somewhat. She loves her grandbabies. ☺️
Rogue & Gambit: Burning House Exclusive Preview
Romy fans! I’m so excited to share this project I’ve been working on with you! ✨
Rogue & Gambit: Burning House is a charity anthology of short stories written by some amazing talent in the Romy fandom and beyond! It’s also illustrated by some equally fantastic fan artists. I’m really proud to announce that I contributed both a story and an art piece to this fab collection. 🥰
If you’re a Romy fan, this is going to be an absolute must-have! 💖
Publication will be this Fall, so watch this space! 👀
Hi! I am an MLIS Student, and I was browsing the Journal of Documentation for school, and I just wanna let you know I stumbled upon your article from 2021 about tag analysis as a tool. I was absolutely delighted, amused, and excited to see the word M!Preg in an academic paper. That made my day haha!
LMAO, that is hilarious!! 😂 I'm glad to have made your day, and thank you for making mine too! It's always a good day when my fannish papers find their people! 😊
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