cera-writes

[cera-writes]

Hi, it’s been a good while since you last posted. We miss youuu🫶🫶🫶

Aww, I'm touched I've been missed 🥹♥️

[cera-writes]

Cera my love, you aren't active, but your kurt fics are so good!!!! mwah ily

Thank you 🫶🏻 🥹 I'm going to try and be more active again. Life has been rough.

[cera-writes]

Ordinary—Kurt Wagner x gn!Reader

((tags: slightly NSFW))

[based on the song Ordinary by Alex Warren]

The rain's relentless assault on the stained-glass windows painted the chapel in fractured, vibrant hues, a kaleidoscope of light and shadow that danced across Kurt's damp, indigo fur.

He sat on the first pew, a coiled spring of tension, the flickering candlelight casting long, dramatic shadows that accentuated the sculpted lines of his face, the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the intense gold of his eyes. You, beside him, felt the oppressive weight of the world, the venom of the news reports seeping into the sacred space, tainting the air with a chilling dread.

"They say ze holy water is watered down... and ze town has lost it's faith," Kurt spoke softly and solemnly.

Your fingers, trembling slightly, traced the intricate whorls of his fur, a silent offering of comfort, a fragile, tenuous connection in the face of encroaching darkness.

He flinched, a subtle ripple of unease vibrating through him, a tremor that resonated deep within your own soul. The air crackled with unspoken anxieties, with the heavy silence of shared fear.

"It feels… heavy," he admitted, his voice a low rumble, the usual playful lilt absent, replaced by a raw, guttural honesty. The weight of the world, the burden of his otherness, pressed down on him, a tangible force.

You leaned into his warmth, the heat radiating from his body a stark, comforting contrast to the chapel’s cold, unforgiving stone. "We can find our masterpiece, even here," you whispered, your breath ghosting over his skin, a fragile promise in the face of despair. "We can create our own sanctuary."

His gaze, intense and searching, locked with yours, a flicker of something primal igniting in their depths, a spark of defiance against the encroaching shadows.

—I take one look at you, you're taking me out of the ordinary—

"Oh my, my," he breathed, his voice a low, husky whisper. "You are... extraordinary."

You both needed this escape, this newfound solace in one another. It felt like sacrilege, but oh so sweet.

He pulled you closer, his other hand sliding around your waist, drawing you into his embrace. The scent of his fur, a mix of brimstone and something subtly sweet, filled your senses.

His large, unusual hands, surprisingly gentle, cupped your cheek, his thumbs stroking your skin, sending a wave of heat through your body, a slow burn that spread through your veins.

"Kurt I... I want you laying me down... til we're both dead and buried," you confessed.

He teleported you both, the familiar "Bamf!" echoing through the chapel, bringing you to a hidden alcove behind the altar. The air was thick with the scent of incense and old wood, the only light coming from the flickering candles on the altar.

He pressed you against the cool stone wall, his body flush against yours. You gasped as his lips found yours.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes, glowing in the dim light, held a raw intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. His tail wrapped around your leg, a silent, possessive gesture.

"You've got me kissin' ze ground of your sanctuary," he whispered, his lips tracing a path down your neck. His touch was both reverent and demanding, sending waves of heat through your body. He wanted to worship you, as if you were the holy being he pledged his faith to.

—On the edge of your knife, stayin' drunk on your vine—

He lifted you, his strength surprising, and gently placed you on the edge of the altar. His eyes never left yours, holding you captive in their golden gaze. He began to slowly trace the lines of your body with his hands, his touch igniting a fire within you.

"Shatter me with your touch, Meine liebes. Oh Lord, return me to dust," he groaned, his voice a raw, primal plea, a surrender to the overwhelming sensation.

The storm raged outside, but within the alcove, a different kind of storm was brewing, a tempest of passion that threatened to consume you both. His touch, his gaze, the intensity of his presence, it was all too much, and yet, not enough. He was a paradox, a creature of both shadow and light, and you were falling with him.

—The angels up in the clouds are jealous knowing we found something so out of the ordinary—

[cera-writes]

It’s like a full-blown addiction, but instead of drugs or booze, it’s this fictional guy who’s got her wrapped around his finger. She knows it’s fucked up—knows she’s out here daydreaming about someone who’s not even real—but who cares? This guy? He’s everything. He’s charming in the worst ways, flawed in every possible sense, but there’s just something about him that has her hooked. He doesn’t even know she exists, but she’s ready to fight anyone who says a word against him. Seriously, she’ll defend his honor like it’s a fucking life-or-death mission.

He’s a goddamn trainwreck, but he’s her trainwreck. She’ll put up with all his baggage, his emotional scars, his dark sides, because somehow, that brokenness makes him feel more real to her than any real guy could. He’s messed up, but she’ll fix him in her head every single time. Maybe it’s that thrill of knowing he’s dangerous and untouchable that makes him even more irresistible. He might break her heart in a hundred ways, but it���s the kind of heartbreak that makes her feel alive, even if it hurts like hell.

And it’s never gonna happen, right? She knows that. He’s not gonna waltz into her life and sweep her off her feet. But it doesn’t matter. Because she gets to have him on her terms—no messy reality, no awkward first dates, no risking her heart for real. He’s always there when she needs him, in that perfect little bubble of fantasy she’s built for herself. And maybe she’s a little crazy for it, but at least with him, she’s never disappointed. Every time she replays his scenes, reads the fanfics, imagines their future together—it's like a high she can never quite shake. She knows it's all just a mindfuck, but she’s never felt more alive.

[cera-writes]

One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.

Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.

Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.

Bring back the build up!!!!!!!

[cera-writes]

Running a Sale on my Etsy!

Get that Nightcrawler or Remy letter you've been eyeing! <3

[cera-writes]

RogueGambit for a Dear friend's birthday!!

[cera-writes]

she’s everything, he’s just gambit

✧ twitter

[cera-writes]

"For a while," he replied.

Kurt smiled, his eyes reflecting the moonlight that streamed through the cathedral's stained glass windows. He turned to Autumn, his fangs glinting in the dim light. "I've been coming here for years," he replied, his voice echoing in the dusty air. "It's a place where I can be myself, without fear of judgment."

He continued walking, his footsteps muffled by the worn carpet. The cathedral was a stark contrast to the loud, bustling world outside. It was a sanctuary, a place where Kurt could escape the pressures of being a superhero. As he walked, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. It was a feeling that he rarely experienced, but it was one that he cherished.

Over the years, the cathedral had become more than just a place to visit. It was a place where Kurt could connect with his inner self. It was a place where he could find solace and peace. And it was a place where he could be truly himself.

"Come, sit."

Kurt gestured to one of the old worn pews in the middle, overlooking a statue of Mother Mary.

-

Ellie smiled warmly at Remy as he draped his coat over her shoulders. She appreciated his thoughtfulness, even if he tried to play it off as a joke. She knew he was a bit of a scoundrel, but she couldn't help but find him endearing.

As they walked closer to the water, Ellie took in the familiar scent of the ocean mixed with the city's industrial fumes. It was a unique blend that reminded her of her childhood growing up in New York. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the moment.

"You know Remy... we're kinda alike, you and I. Both of us didn't exactly have the best upbringing. But look at us now. We're practically damn heroes. I never saw myself joining the X-Men. But here I am. Funny how things work out. But I'm kinda glad in a way. I got to meet you." She smiled as they continued to walk.

X-Men Rp with @shadykazama (closed)

The Danger Room's simulated cityscape blurred around Kurt as he dodged energy blasts and countered holographic opponents. The adrenaline rush was familiar, the thrill of the fight momentarily eclipsing everything else. But in the brief pauses between attacks, his mind drifted. It sought a quieter space, a gentler energy. It sought Autumn.

He pictured her in the lab, the soft glow of the equipment illuminating her focused expression. He saw her delicate hands manipulating intricate tools, her beautiful eyes reflecting the dance of energy she commanded. He remembered the warmth that radiated from her, the subtle crackle of energy that filled the air whenever he was near. It was a stark contrast to the cold steel and simulated danger of the Danger Room, a comforting reminder of the life and passion that existed beyond these walls.

He recalled their conversations, the way her voice, even modulated by her helmet, held a quiet intensity that mirrored the energy she wielded. He remembered how her explanations of her research were filled with a passion that was both contagious and inspiring. He thought of the way her energy seemed to pulse and shift with her words, a symphony of emotions and thoughts that he could almost feel resonating within him.

He smiled, remembering the accidental brushes of their hands, the silent exchange of energy that spoke volumes, a connection deeper than words. He cherished those moments when her barriers seemed to fade, revealing the vulnerable, passionate woman beneath the stoic scientist. He saw her laughter, rare and precious, and the warmth in her eyes when she spoke of her work.

The training session ended, and Kurt's thoughts lingered on Autumn. He longed for the quiet sanctuary of her lab, the shared understanding that bloomed in their silent conversations. He craved the feeling of connection, the warmth of her energy intertwining with his own. It was a solace he found nowhere else, a balm for the weariness of battle and the weight of the world.

As he left the Danger Room, the mansion's familiar sounds seemed muted, his mind still echoing with the memory of her presence. He made his way towards the labs, a sense of anticipation building within him. He hoped to find her there, to share a quiet moment, to bask in the gentle flame of her energy once more. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he might even catch another glimpse of that rare smile, the one that lit up her face and filled his heart with a warmth that had nothing to do with her powers.

-

The worn green felt of the pool table was a familiar battlefield, the click of billiard balls a comforting rhythm. Ellie leaned over her cue, the dimly lit pub a warm cocoon around her and the guys. A few drinks had loosened her tongue and warmed her cheeks, turning the usual banter into a lively symphony of laughter and playful jabs.

"Watch and learn, boys," she declared, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. The cue ball kissed its target with a satisfying crack, sending it careening into the side pocket. A chorus of groans and cheers erupted from the small crowd they'd gathered.

She careened over at Gambit, basking in the glory of her shot.

Ellie just laughed, the sound echoing through the smoky air, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation. Logan, leaning against the bar with a beer in hand, raised an eyebrow in amusement. Even Scott, usually so stoic, cracked a smile. It was nights like these, surrounded by good company and the friendly competition, that made Ellie feel truly alive. The shadows that usually danced at the edges of her vision seemed to recede, content to let her bask in the simple joy of the moment.

She lined up her next shot, the weight of the cue familiar in her hand. The world narrowed down to the green felt, the gleaming balls, and the anticipation of the next move. The subtle scent of whiskey and the warmth of the room wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Tonight, she was just Ellie, not Eclipse the shadow manipulator. Just a girl, a few drinks in, enjoying a game of pool with her friends. The weight of the world, the constant vigilance against prejudice and fear, seemed to melt away in the face of their easy camaraderie. For now, there was just the game, the laughter, and the quiet contentment of belonging.

[cera-writes]

I’m so sorry ma’am.. your friends with Cajun Dan?!

We're acquaintances but I'd consider he and I friends :)

[cera-writes]

Sorry I haven't been as active y'all! Between work and commissions I haven't had time to get to requests like usual.

[cera-writes]

Anyome got napkins? 🥲

[cera-writes]

remy lebeau pulling up to the function

[cera-writes]

Kurt felt the change in her, the shift from hesitation to a quiet acceptance. He lowered his hand, his heart thudding in his chest. He saw the echoes of past hurts in her eyes, the wariness towards a place he held so dear. The church, a sanctuary for him, held a different weight for her, burdened by the shadows of judgment and scorn. He understood, a pang of sadness echoing within him. He wished he could erase those painful memories, replace them with the warmth and acceptance he found in his faith.

Yet, beneath the weight of her past, he saw the trust she offered him, a fragile gift he vowed to protect. It was a testament to the bond they shared, a connection that transcended differences. He wouldn't push her, wouldn't try to convince her of the beauty he found in faith. He knew that belief couldn't be forced, it had to bloom from within. Tonight, it was about finding peace, a shared sanctuary even if their paths towards it diverged. He gave her a gentle smile, a silent promise that he would be there with her, every step of the way.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. "We don't have to talk about it. Just... let's go find some peace, together."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers, a gesture of comfort and reassurance. He wanted her to know that she wasn't alone, that he would walk beside her through the silence of the empty church. Perhaps, just perhaps, the quiet stillness would offer a glimpse of something more, a shared moment of tranquility amidst their differing beliefs. And for Kurt, that was enough.

"Now, shall we, Meine Schatz?" He smiled kindly.

-

A mischievous smirk tugged at Ellie's lips, mirroring the challenge in Remy's eyes. "Jouer avec le feu?" she echoed, her voice a playful purr, using a touch of French on him like he'd done with her. "I thought that was the point, mon loup." The thrill of the forbidden danced in her eyes, a silent agreement to the unspoken game they were playing.

She leaned closer, her own breath ghosting across his cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. "And who said I was afraid of a little fire?" Her eyes sparkled with a daring glint, daring him to test her resolve. "Lead the way, Cajun. Let's see what big game you talk, then."

The idea of escaping the watchful eyes of their companions, of being alone with Remy in the hushed embrace of the night, ignited a spark of excitement within her. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them, caught in a silent dance of anticipation.

She straightened, meeting his gaze with a confidence that matched his own. "Just try to keep up, Remy," she teased, a playful challenge lacing her words. "Wouldn't want you to get lost in the shadows." A hint of a smile played on her lips, a silent promise of the excitement that awaited them. The night was young, and the possibilities were endless.

X-Men Rp with @shadykazama (closed)

The Danger Room's simulated cityscape blurred around Kurt as he dodged energy blasts and countered holographic opponents. The adrenaline rush was familiar, the thrill of the fight momentarily eclipsing everything else. But in the brief pauses between attacks, his mind drifted. It sought a quieter space, a gentler energy. It sought Autumn.

He pictured her in the lab, the soft glow of the equipment illuminating her focused expression. He saw her delicate hands manipulating intricate tools, her beautiful eyes reflecting the dance of energy she commanded. He remembered the warmth that radiated from her, the subtle crackle of energy that filled the air whenever he was near. It was a stark contrast to the cold steel and simulated danger of the Danger Room, a comforting reminder of the life and passion that existed beyond these walls.

He recalled their conversations, the way her voice, even modulated by her helmet, held a quiet intensity that mirrored the energy she wielded. He remembered how her explanations of her research were filled with a passion that was both contagious and inspiring. He thought of the way her energy seemed to pulse and shift with her words, a symphony of emotions and thoughts that he could almost feel resonating within him.

He smiled, remembering the accidental brushes of their hands, the silent exchange of energy that spoke volumes, a connection deeper than words. He cherished those moments when her barriers seemed to fade, revealing the vulnerable, passionate woman beneath the stoic scientist. He saw her laughter, rare and precious, and the warmth in her eyes when she spoke of her work.

The training session ended, and Kurt's thoughts lingered on Autumn. He longed for the quiet sanctuary of her lab, the shared understanding that bloomed in their silent conversations. He craved the feeling of connection, the warmth of her energy intertwining with his own. It was a solace he found nowhere else, a balm for the weariness of battle and the weight of the world.

As he left the Danger Room, the mansion's familiar sounds seemed muted, his mind still echoing with the memory of her presence. He made his way towards the labs, a sense of anticipation building within him. He hoped to find her there, to share a quiet moment, to bask in the gentle flame of her energy once more. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he might even catch another glimpse of that rare smile, the one that lit up her face and filled his heart with a warmth that had nothing to do with her powers.

-

The worn green felt of the pool table was a familiar battlefield, the click of billiard balls a comforting rhythm. Ellie leaned over her cue, the dimly lit pub a warm cocoon around her and the guys. A few drinks had loosened her tongue and warmed her cheeks, turning the usual banter into a lively symphony of laughter and playful jabs.

"Watch and learn, boys," she declared, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. The cue ball kissed its target with a satisfying crack, sending it careening into the side pocket. A chorus of groans and cheers erupted from the small crowd they'd gathered.

She careened over at Gambit, basking in the glory of her shot.

Ellie just laughed, the sound echoing through the smoky air, mingling with the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation. Logan, leaning against the bar with a beer in hand, raised an eyebrow in amusement. Even Scott, usually so stoic, cracked a smile. It was nights like these, surrounded by good company and the friendly competition, that made Ellie feel truly alive. The shadows that usually danced at the edges of her vision seemed to recede, content to let her bask in the simple joy of the moment.

She lined up her next shot, the weight of the cue familiar in her hand. The world narrowed down to the green felt, the gleaming balls, and the anticipation of the next move. The subtle scent of whiskey and the warmth of the room wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. Tonight, she was just Ellie, not Eclipse the shadow manipulator. Just a girl, a few drinks in, enjoying a game of pool with her friends. The weight of the world, the constant vigilance against prejudice and fear, seemed to melt away in the face of their easy camaraderie. For now, there was just the game, the laughter, and the quiet contentment of belonging.

[cera-writes]

What’s your fave character to write for?

That's a tough one. Probably Gambit? I just love him so much 🥰

[cera-writes]

drink water!!!! dance in your room!!!!!! eat a lot of veggies!!!!!! dance as you do chores!!!!!! eat some fruit!!!!!!!! let yourself feel sad!!!!! have that $5 hot drink sometimes!!!!! try to smile even when you’re alone and doing some work!!!! listen to music that makes you happy when you’re feeling down!!!!!! we’ve all gone through crap and life might have more in store for us but we got this!!!!! 

[cera-writes]

That's the shirt we gave him! 🥰

He did it! HE DID IT!

Cajun Dan’s now Gambit!

😍😍😍