I meant to post this for @roguegambitweek but I forgot (I kinda had a baby two weeks ago) so I’ll post it for Valentine’s Day instead! I drew this when I was 14-ish, not long after UXM #341 (pencils by Joe Madureira) first came out, and I just had to fix That Panel because the wrong dude was kissing her. I remember being super proud of it because it was the first time I’d successfully referenced a picture without tracing, ha.
I want to send out a quick note of thanks to everyone who has helped make Rogue/Gambit Week a success. This couldn’t have happened without all of you.
To everyone—Thank you for sharing, liking, and re-blogging. Thank you for voting and suggesting themes. Thank you for your interest in participating.
Special thanks to @chellerbelles, @annyferdinand , @womenlovemefishfearme , @x-red-string-of-fate-x, @applejacks1552, @sandmansraven, @sheriff-snikety-snake, @bustedflipflop, @jehilew, @ludi-ling, @purplevit, @xevg, @virfujiwara, Malachi888, and @angel-gidget who shared their wonderful fanworks with all of us. Our fandom is richer because of your contributions.
Thank to @angel-gidget who made all the banners and icon used on the blog.
Rating: G | Words: 960 approx.| a03 link: here.
Summary: prompt for Rogue Gambit Week, Day #4: What does Gambit keep in his pockets?
As far as evil dungeons to be trapped in went, this one wasn’t the worst. It was pretty budget, really. No henchmen or fancy tech outside of a power dampening field and very thick doors. Rogue had found that fairly annoying, but the really aggravating part was the levels.
The whole place was a babushka-doll of holding cells within holding cells. The lack of lackeys meant there were no torturers and no guards to send out any alerts when she and Remy slipped their chains and began to make their way to the exit. That had seemed like a good start to their getaway.
It is coming to a close on our last day of Rogue/Remy Week 2020. Thank you so much to everyone who has participated. Your art and stories excitement has helped make this week possible.
If you have been working on something but haven’t quite finished yet, please post it when you’re done. And use the #Rogue/GambitWeek2020 or #Rogue/RemyWeek2020 tags. I’ll continue to search the tags and post until the end of February. There is always room for more Romy loveliness.
Also, if you have posted something this last week and I missed it, please message me or send me an ask. I’ve had some issues with searching tags and finding ‘at’s. We don’t want to miss any of your hard work.
Thanks again, you’ve all helped make this week a success.
Posting for Rogue and Gambit week 2020 on behalf of Malachi888
#Rogue/Gambitweek2020 #Rogue/Remyweek2020 #Romy #Rambit #Rogue #Gambit
Well, here it is, a little treat for my followers - the first chapter of Crazy 8′s, the sequel to 52 Pickup. I’m sharing since it’s Day 7 (AU) of Rogue/Gambit Week 2020. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish this story, even though I got a fair way through it, since I wrote myself into a corner, and I’m not sure I like it very much. But I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!
Simplest rule in the book.
Don’t get caught.
I can hear pere’s voice in my head, clear as day, literally beatin’ the words into all of us, his snotty-nosed, grass-stain-scuffed li’l Fagin’s gang.
Don’t. Get. Caught.
And then his face, leaning in towards mine, grinning, saying:
Unless, o’ course, you have a reason t’get caught.
Yeah, that was mon pere, full of good, subtle ideas. He’d usually direct them at me cos he knew I was like the worst kind of sponge. I’d be soakin’ all that shit up, swimmin’ in it like a gator swims in swamp water. As a kid, I’d always figured he was just picking on me. As an adult, I realise all he was doing was laying down challenges, cos he knew this punk-ass kid would rise to the bait every time, pushing every damn boundary he could along the way.
You got potential, boy. But you got no discipline. Always halfway t’ bein’ in a rage, t’ ventin’ it out on some poor trash. You play de con, kid, you live de con. No heart-on-your-sleeve shit. Dat stays inside. Cos y’know what? Folks can read dat crap a mile away.
“C’mon, pretty boy,” the man to my right grunts, as the alarms I’ve set off still scream all around us. “Getcha arse in gear. The boss don’t take kindly to waitin’.”
He prods me in the back with the barrel of his gun, a little too sharply than is strictly necessary; but I get it, he has a job to do, and actin’ mean is part of it.
“Yeah, well, that’s what bosses are like, mon ami,” I answer with a smirk. “Never got time for nothin’. Mebbe you should think about goin’ freelance, neh? It has its advantages. No calls at unsociable hours… Don’t gotta do all the dirty work y’self… Get t’ have a couple of pretty femmes hangin’ on your every word… Still. I reckon mebbe you two ain’t smart ’nuff yet t’ graduate from the ol’ ‘Crime Boss 101’ course, am I right?”
“Hey!” The guy to my left gives me a crack on the back of the head with what I assume is also the barrel of a gun. “Shut the fuck up!”
See? Boring, predictable, run-of-the-mill flunkies. These couyons ain’t never gon’ make it past mid-tier bodyguard material.
And those alarms are still screaming. Ain’t some asshole gon’ shut it off already? It’s givin’ me a headache.
Whatever. I do as I’m told and shut the fuck up. Mostly because I’m busy scanning the décor of this corridor we appear to be walking down. The walls are lined with paintings, a mess of eras and styles that could tell anyone with an ounce of taste that whoever’s collecting this shit has none. Taste, that is. All it tells me is that this guy has cash, and he don’t mind throwin’ it ’round. We walk past a Cezanne, and I grimace.
Hang on in there, li’l guy, I say to myself as we sweep right by it. One o’these days I’m gonna free you. Soon.
Cos let’s face it.
You think I’m gonna leave a Cezanne to rot in Cain Marko’s fuckin’ playboy mansion when it could be on my wall?
I think not.
Romy Week 2020: Day Seven, AU
My little contribution for Romy Week 2020 ;)
Summary: He was observing her with a mix of desire, craving, and need. He knew how to make a woman feel admired. She radiated confidence ten women together couldn’t match; knowing what she wanted and what to do to make it hers.
Word Count: 1,271
Content/Author Notes: The inspiration for this fic comes from the song with the same name Rumors from R3HAB x Sofia Carson. From the fist time I heard the song I had to write something, so here it is my apport for the #rogue/gambitweek2020
Also thanks to @pastellarts for the help finding the car.
Rogue/Gambit Fanworks week, Day 7: Alternate Universe
Can also be found here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13495715/1/The-Thief-and-the-Archmage
Gambit cautiously pushed the tower window open. He scanned the ground in front of him and anything else in the nearby vicinity, but saw no signs of anything that might be a magical trap. One could never be certain when breaking into an archmage’s tower, especially one that had a bounty on their head for the last ten years.