#x-project

[xprojectrpg]

Moment of Awesome - Emma Frost/The White Queen: Concerned about strangeness impacting the resident psis, Arthur Centino interviews Emma and gets a shameful confession.

Arthur's polite smile broke into an answering grin as Emma spoke. "I have to say, your accent is superb — clothing for our thoughts." He lengthened his own vowels at the end, drawing his voice closer to Emma's own. "You've got more upper crust, there, though? Boardroom aristocracy. Hint of Boston at the edges. Fabulous indeed."

The blond man waved that off, getting back to business. His eyes shone with good humor. "My goal here is to learn what's normal for you before jumping into what might have been different lately. Sounds like you're describing what Haller would call," and he reflexively switched accents again to something closer to Jim's holmesian logic, "standard telepathic projection and manipulation." He put a hand to his chin in thought. "So let's get to it. Has anything been different within the last three months? Flares, expected growth, not coming as easily as normal?"

"Standard telepathic projection and manipulation in the way Cartier makes standard jewellery, yes," replied Emma, smiling. "None of the more exotic flavourings like technopathy or psychometry. As for changes. . . None that I've noticed particularly. I haven't been in the Mansion much, I admit, and from your email it sounds like you think that's where any changes might manifest? I mean," Emma leaned back in her chair, "I did unexpectedly turn into organic diamond during a spectacularly traumatic event, so I'm willing to consider more deeply if you have parameters to work within?"

He nodded over his notes, but extended a hand. "Psychometry here," and he gave his fingers a wiggle, "I just discovered I had it last year, but it's a good example — I've been putting my own memories onto objects without knowing it. There are at least ten others experiencing power issues — just the psis — but the common part does seem to be being at or around the Mansion." Arthur tried to give an honest smile. "There's no clear through-line or objective yet. When's the last time you were at the Mansion?"

Emma shrugged. “I’ve flitted in and out; a few hours here or there over the last few weeks.” She frowned suddenly, tapped a diamond fingernail on the desk. “When you’re talking differences in powers. . . would you be talking about a shift in my telepathy? Or is there any suggestion of suddenly using an. . . associated power.” She shook her head slightly and sighed. “Let me be terribly blunt about the whole thing; is there a possibility I could be suffering from telekinesis?”

This got his interest. Arthur raised both eyebrows and leaned in just a little. "Please, tell me more about 'suffering from telekinesis.' I've never had to worry about it."

Emma made a moue. “It’s so. . . tacky,” she sighed. “All these telepaths going round and developing telekinesis. Like lifting things with your mind isn’t just turning your brain into a brute force machine. Telekinesis isn’t elegant, Arthur.” She sighed again, this one deep and positively heart-rending. “I assumed one of the others was pranking me.”

"If it helps," he offered with an extended hand, not close enough to touch, "Everyone else is likely too preoccupied to have noticed. TK does seem," and there was the slow consideration of carefully chosen words here, "common paired with telepathy. Are we talking big things," and the man spread his arms to helpfully mime lifting a heavy object, "or smaller?" His gesture tightened, as if he was trying to indicate the shape of a racketball.

“Pieces of paper,” replied Emma. “Small items falling over behind me, that kind of thing. The kind of thing that might be a sudden unexpected gust of wind, or dust, or a sudden unexpected burst of TK, all of which are available to residents here. Ugh,” said Emma, somehow managing to make the word sound impossibly elegant. “Adrienne once told me she saw a few of my bedside trinkets floating beside me when she came in to wake me up. The thing is, Mr Centino,” said Emma, almost but not quite accusatory, “I absolutely refuse to be telekinetic. My mind is a scalpel, not a bulldozer. If I need to lift heavy objects, I have my own methods.” And for a moment, her skin rippled into diamond form and then back again.

[aerequets]

something about death, and sustenance, and decay. Idk

[tojisun]

blue collar simon is still in my mind (yelling) and thinking about how he comes home in his work clothes and finding you asleep in the living room, with the cats loafing on your chest, and simon has got to physically exert self-restraint to not coo out loud and wake up his loves </3

how, after showering, he quietly prepares dinner only to be startled by warm arms curling around his waist.

“you showered,” you grumble, voice muffled from where your face is pressed on his back. “without me.”

simon laughs, bellowing, and twists to fully burrow you in his embrace.

“i’m up for ‘nother spray,” he says, grinning.

you sniff, furrowed brows easing up a bit. “really?”

“really.”

a hum purrs from your chest and simon puffs another laugh before pitching forward to press his lips on your temple. then, “let’s go?”

“yup!”

[kkusuka]

this is in the "141 and john price's wife" universe. still gn pronouns. i also don't think price texts that much- old man syndrome.

the 141 absolutely have a group chat dedicated to pictures and information (porn) about their little wife.

it starts, as many silly things do, with johnny and a picture of you asleep on the couch. cuddled into the armrest covered in the tortilla blanket he'd gotten you as a gag gift, and it was just too good not to share. (although he only sent one of the thirty he actually took, he's gotta keep as much of you to himself as he can.)

then it was kyle with you in the yard, laying in the grass after cutting down branches in the sweltering heat (something john would never let you do if he'd know about it, but he appreciates the flush of your cheeks and the angle of the photo makes it seem as if you were under him doing another strenuous activity.)

and it continues like that for months, cute little pictures of you gardening with price, walking with simon, watching tv between kyle and johnny- just sharing the daily life of their pretty bird.

but the real nature of the group chat doesn’t start until simon sends a picture of you bent over, putting something in the oven, in the tiny, red daisy duke shorts that are only just long enough to be considered inappropriate for the public.

sr: fuckin' lucky that shit only takes 10 minutes to cook or we'd be in the kitchen all day.

soap: fuuuuuuuuckin' hell

kyle: don't rub it in simon, we'll be home in two days

sr: don't worry, i'll warm 'em up for you

price: Behave yourselves.

and it all just unravels from there.

john's the next culprit. he has loads and loads of less than decent pictures of you, perks of being the first husband, but he's not reaching into the stash for this one. he has a point to make: if anyone's getting off to pictures of his wife, he's gonna be the one sending them.

it's barely two hours after the other three left that something is sent into the chat. face down, ass up, cunt dripping with cum as price uses his thumb to keep your pussy open to the camera, the rest of his hand palm down on your ass, the ring on his finger glistening in the flash.

sr: fuckin' filthy captain

soap: BRING ME BACK, PUT ME IN CAPTAIN

kyle: tell 'em i said thank you

it's not surprising that the minute he comes back, johnny's on you. methodically placing the camera, making sure it captures all of you and his face buried between your thighs. it wasn't the first video sent into the chat but it's definitely one of the best ones.

your head thrown back, hands in his hair, gripping what you can so you can grind your pussy on his tongue. his phone is just close enough to hear your small pants and groans as he sucks on your swollen clit.

soap: i could spend the rest of my life right there

sr: you let 'em fuck yer face like that?

soap: lt i'd let 'em gag me

soap: then step on my dick

soap: then leave me on the floor to rot

*kyle, price, and sr disliked three messages*

soap: like you fuckers wouldn't

and kyle is not a man to be left out, but he is also not as keen on sharing his private time with you as johnny is. so there aren't videos coming from him, instead he has 4k close ups of your tits after he spent almost an hour sucking hickeys into every part of your chest he could reach.

and kyle is like an artist, he makes sure your hair is splayed out perfectly, and that you're just fucked out enough to give him a bright smile. he also makes sure that the locket they gave you, the one that's has their names engraved on the inside, sits perfectly above the swell of your boobs. and goddamn is he proud of his pictures. (it's not hard for you to look pretty in pictures because you're already pretty but kyle thinks he's the best at actually capturing it).

soap: another two things i would put my face between until i suffocate

*sr, price, and kyle disliked a message*

soap: go fuck urselves

and simon is just mean, fingers peaking under your panties, finding your clit just to sit there, finger pressed on your bud, only moving for a few seconds before falling still again; his other hand hold your hips down so you can't do anything but wait for him to move again. and he does it the entire length of the manchester game until your panties are completely soaked through.

soap: stone cold, lt. stone cold.

but before he can do anything, he has to take his picture so the other fools can remember what a whore you are for him. and because it's between games he'll let you sit on his dick and grind into him during commercial breaks. maybe he'll even film in and send it to the guys, let them see you drip all over his lap whole stretching to fit him in your cunt.

but whether his team loses or wins, he'll flip you over and fuck you into the couch cushions, so at least you get that!

then they're all away on a mission, and you know about their little chat (it's hard not to when suddenly they have a camera out every time you're in their vicinity.) so you take it upon yourself to give them their fix. and why not play around with them well you're ar it?

it starts when you go shopping merely three days after they left. they tear up your bras and underwear so obviously you would need to buy more eventually. but usually when you go shopping one of them is with you to share their opinions, but since they're away, you just have to send pictures instead!

a whole catalog, in facts. you've got angles, dressing room lighting, and a whole lot of time on your hands.

*you sent 22 photos to 'the bird house'*

you: i can't choose :(((

you: help me out?

kyle: give me 6 hours to fly home and i'll help you with anything

price: Looks great. But I can't tell from the pictures, you'll have to try them all on again when I get home.

soap: licking the screen isn't working, captain i think i need to go home.

*sr saved 22 photos to Camera Roll*

kyle: smooth riley, real smooth.

and of course it doesn't end there. you have a chance to torture them a little bit with zero consequences and you're going to take it.

but it takes a while for you to send videos, usually you send  your outfits, or the tiny bathing suit top you wear while tanning, even one of you in the kitchen in nothing but your tiny apron. (it's the only one that john does not appreciate, popping a boner between briefings as a captain is not hie proudest moment.)

but as the months go longer and longer, you get more and more desperate. your toys are reserved for times like this, a small bullet vibrator and a thick 8-inch dildo. it's nowhere near as nice as fucking your men but it'll have to do for the time being.

and you know them being away is not their fault and they'd be home in an instant if they could choose to be; but if you have to deal with your pent-upness, so do they.

so you set up your phone, leaning it on the lamp that sits on your bedside table, so it captures your entire body, covered only by sheer light-blue lingerie and your locket, as you sink down the length of your dildo, vibrator pressed to your clit. you send four different videos, one for each of them, in the order they came into your life (you think it's cute, they're one picture away from firebombing the whole country they're in and flying home).

you: just something to hold you over until you get back!

kyle: so good for us babe.

soap: yer evil bonnie.

soap: my arm can't keep up with this

sr: birdie thinks it's real funny now

you: i do

sr: not gonna be so funny when we get home, yeah? might have to give you a refresher about what happens teasing birds.

price: 6:30am tomorrow, get everything you need in order because you aren't moving for the foreseeable future.

*you loved a message*

[cart00nmilk]

SONADOW CONFESSION STORY PART 6!!

“Why shadow is riding a bike and wearing a helmet and wearing a leather jacket?” CUZ HES COOL AND I WANTED TO DRAW HIS QUILLS BEING SMUSHED BY THE HELMET OK

Last part: Here

[heartorbit]

MWAH!

[buniix3]

[nashishishi]

konton boogie woogie

[xprojectrpg]

Happy Valentine's Day from X-Project!

(Clockwise from top: Arthur Centino, Amanda Sefton, Jessica Jones and Warren Worthington III)

Art by @thrakaboom

[captain-astors]

Redraw of that one variant cover for Uncanny X-Men #3. I love Nightcrawler dearly.

[slasherfantasy]

Fuck-or-die sex pollen fic, where Ghost insists on being the one to fuck you and help you through the toxin.

The others think it's because he has a thing for you (he does), but only Price really understands why Ghost is volunteering. Because there was a time where Ghost also didn't have a say in whether or not someone was inside him, where his choice was also 'be fucked, or die'.

And at least if it's Ghost fucking you, he can make sure that it's as gentle and kind as you deserve. He can make sure it doesn't hurt, that it feels good, that you're given all the respect and dignity possible. You can't consent right now, but he's going to ensure you aren't traumatized like he was

And if he can do this for you, and be gentle, and kind, it proves that he really hasn't become who Roba wanted him to be, right?

[tojisun]

something tender and domestic and needy with john.

something like him coming home, all bone-tired and angry, his body rigid and poised with tension, only to fold and falter at the sight of you asleep on the bed. so soft buried underneath the sheets, and john’s hit by this yawning in the pit of his stomach, so vitriolic it shakes him — he has never really gotten over the way you’re his now.

his to take care of. his to love. to spoil.

his to come home to.

john stalks forward quietly and settles close. he knows that you’ll get angry at him for sitting on the bed in his work clothes, but he can’t help it. he needs to feel you. to be with you. to be so close, the coldness of winter will burn off his skin.

he brushes his knuckles along your cheek, watching it dimple at the slightest pressure. how soft you are, years still ahead of you, but still, you chose him. you chose to be here in his home, in his reach, in the cusp of his palm.

you’re warm from your sleep, almost feverish underneath all those layers, and john feels the pull of his own exhaustion now. like his body has been waiting for this — for you.

“mmn?”

you stir, heavy eyes blinking open.

“shh,” john murmurs, not willing to truly pull you from your slumber. “s’just me, baby. go back to sleep.”

john feels the barest of nods move his hand before watching you curl into him, wriggling underneath the mass of your blankets, and settling with a satisfied puff. his lips dance with a fond mirth but john doesn’t move, not yet anyway, and just watches on as you slip back into your sleep.

all his love, here.

[wondashoever]

yk that feeling when

[xshinina]

WANNA GET READY FOR "THE MIKU MOVIE"? Here is a basic guide to the main cast that isn't Vocaloid:

(haven't seen the movie yet but this should be helpful)