IN THE FIFTH GIF HE PATS THE CUPS WITH HIS LITTLE PAWS TO MAKE SURE IT’S IN. BRB, DYING.
forever reblogging this, my most favouite gif EVER
<3
ARE YOU KIDDING? LOOK AT THE 7TH GIF HOW HE JUST HANDS THE CUPS TO THE PERSON AND IS LIKE, “HERE HUMAN, YOUR FEEBLE TASK FOR ME IS COMPLETE. NOW LEAVE US BE.”
DYING
THE SECOND GIF
HE’S ALL LIKE
‘it.wont.fucking.fit.’
*throws it away*
Since I couldn’t decide which route to take, I typed them both up.
Proper Style:
First Gif: “Ah, now let us get this put away and we can move on…”
Second Gif: “…Good sir, you have seem to have given me these parcels in the wrong order. Let me solve this…”
Third Gif: “I do hope you know how much of a bother this is for me, but I shall complete my task shortly.”
Fourth Gif: “Now, don’t panic, sometimes things can get a bit mixed up…”
Fifth Gif: “Ah, there we go, and after a firm pat to make sure the position is stable, we can move to the second half of the problem.”
Sixth Gif: “Just a little bit a careful maneuvering and delicate coordination…”
Seventh Gif: “There! Problem solve good sir, and there you go.”
Eight Gif: “Ah my dearest Elenore, you could never guess what silly thing the humans did today.”
Ghetto Style:
1: “AH HELL NAW SON, DIS DON’T WORK”
2: “YOU DUMB MUTHEREFFER, LOOK WHAT YOU DID.”
3: “SEE, NOW I GOT TO GIT THIS FIXED, AND ALL YOU GUNNA DO IS WATCH”
4: “SHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHITSHHHHEEEEEEET”
5: “NOW GIVE THAT ASS A SLAP, KEEP IT IN ITS PLACE”
6: “DAMN PURPLE ONE, GOT TO THROW IT AROUND BEFORE IT FITS.”
7: “THERE, NOW TAKE YER SHIT AND DON’T COCK IT UP AGAIN”
8: “GUUUUUUUUUUUURL, DIDJA SEE THAT DUMBSHIT? MUTHEREFFER WAS DUMBER THAN A BAG O’ HEADLESS HAMMERS I SWEAR.”
(Source: nocrimeinthewasteland)
AU in which Erik jogs past a school every morning, and one morning he thinks he’s going crazy when he starts seeing the ghost (or hallucination, he doesn’t know) of a young man covered in blood asking him for help. The man is Charles Xavier, a telepathic mutant who was brutally attacked the night before in the field beyond the schools playground, and his unconscious mind is sending out a cry for help as he lays in a ditch bleeding and very near death.
Erik doesn’t know what’s going on but it makes him incredibly sad to look at him, can Charles convince him in time he is real and to find him before it’s too late?
Okay /cracks knuckles, let’s see if I can butcher this enough
_________________________________________
Erik had woke up feeling rather normal, for once.
He had woken up to the alarm instead of before it by the tightening of the springs, he managed to shave without the razor blade bending from his skin, and actually remembered to pick up his silverware with his hands instead of calling it from his plate to his mouth with a pull of his powers.
It was a good feeling, being normal.
He hummed as he changed into his usual sweatpants and jacket, after deciding the sky did not look grey enough to skip his morning jog. Running was a hobby Erik frequently indulged in. The feeling of his legs burning to the sound of his shoes slapping the asphalt as he ran through the streets of town, acting like the metal of the cars and lamp posts around him were not calling to him like a siren, was very cathartic.
Trying, but still cathartic all the same.
He turned the corner towards the school, deciding to push his self control further with the property’s chain link fences, playground equipment and the slender zippers of the children’s backpacks.
Today started out well enough, Erik was confident that he could pass this self imposed test.
But as he traveled down the sidewalk that curved around the play area he caught the sight of someone falling and slowed down on instinct, immediately alert for any problem.
He did not expect to see the sight of a young man, dressed in white and pale as a ghost, kneeling in the center of the basket ball court. He certainly did not expect the blood that dripped from the man’s mouth, and staining the belly of his shirt in bright bright crimson.
Erik’s feet quickly came to a stop and he stood in place as his eyes met the pleading blue irises of the wounded male.
“Help…Help me…”
Erik could not comprehend how he could hear the rasping voice from across the busy park, how he could understand the plea as children walked and played noisily around them. However, he did note that no one else in the area seemed to even notice the bleeding man. He was the only one who seemed to even realize he was there, to see the suffering displayed in the middle of the playground.
Erik’s hands clenched into fists by his sides and his teeth ground in anger.
The day had been going so well, the first good day in many dark months. He had finally started to gain control of his life again and now…
Now he was seeing ghosts in playgrounds.
Erik took a shuddering breath and turned, his eyes closing a moment so he could look away from the helpless figure. This was not his responsibility, this was not how his day was suppose to go, how his life was suppose to go. He was normal dammit, normal, inconspicuous and most importantly safe.
Erik lifted his foot, ready to take the step to resume his jog.
“…Help me…”
He stumbled as his foot landed awkwardly on the ground.
Erik could not stop himself this time as he turned to face the young man, his heart still fluttering in panic as he stared back at the pale, bloody face. He wanted to leave, he wanted to go back to his normal day; but he could not find the will to do so.
Cursing under his breath in German, he began to run towards the huddled figure, dodging and weaving through the children despite the internal urge to flee the scene before he was noticed by a parent or teacher.
Somehow, he was not surprised that the young man faded away and disappeared as Erik reached him. Instead he kept running, his feet barely touching the ground to push him forward as he flew across the field past the basketball court. As he traveled, the panicked feeling in his chest began to ache with a deep, limb numbing chill.
He could still hear the young man’s voice.
“…Help…please, help…Here…Over here…”
Erik continued to gain speed as he veered around a moving van to dart into the field across the street.
“…Help me…”
Burs and needles prickled at his ankles as he entered the tall grass, but he refused to slow down.
He almost ran straight into a ditch.
Sliding to a stop, Erik managed to slow down at the edge, pebbles and clumps of mud skittering down the slope now at his feet. Scanning the ditch he gasped and panted for breath. His heart was still thundering as he looked, and his hands and face were clammy and cold where they were exposed to the winter air.
There, a slash of white amidst the dark expanse of wet earth and dead foliage.
Erik, used the gnarled roots that jutted from the ditch’s wall as hand and foot holds as he picked his way carefully down. Luckily it was only a few steps through the bramble before he reached the body.
If Erik thought the man was covered in blood when he saw his image at the park, it was nothing compared to the actual mess that was crumpled before him.
Blood was everywhere, not just on the man’s clothes and white skin, but on the vines and leaves encasing him and the earth below him. Someone had beaten and battered the body before throwing it down here, judging from the mottled dark shadows starting to peek from the young man’s collar and at his temple. Erik grunted as he bent down to pull the body free, trying not to lose his grip on the blood slicked limbs as he withdrew them from the bushes. Back aching and feeling more than slightly disturbed over the sight of dull, glazed eyes staring blindly up at the clouded sky, he knelt beside the lifeless form and pulled out his phone to start dialing Emma’s number. He could not trust the EMS responders to not report his presence on a file.
Ignoring to the blood now smeared on the screen of his phone, he tucked it between his cheek and shoulder, leaving his hands free to start arranging the other male in a more comfortable position.
Listening to the phone ring in his ear, he could not help the shiver that scuttled down his spine as he heard the soft voice sighing once more.
“Thank you…”
_________________________________
Okay, there’s my contribution to this, may or may not continue, but at least I scratched the itch a bit. Sorry for any typos! /lazy author is lazy
for every single person who reblogs this, i will put a song in their inbox based solely on their blog content (and possibly theme).
good luck with my blog
2377 and I still get one (and an accurate one), he is good !
she <3 haha why thank you!
Erik gets sick because of the smell because it reminds him about the camps, about the fact that had to burn people’s bodies - and about Anya’s death. Oh god, I can imagine, how awful trigger it could be: “I couldn’t save-I let him die-again-my fault-again”…
Goku left…
(Oh Heavens, it’s been awhile since I wrote anything, and I had to pick this one up first and now I probably am going to get kicked out, because my German is hell o’ rusty, along with my Holocaust history and X-men verse knowledge and I am trying to blend all the verses together, but my First Class favoritism is showing and it ended up probably being part funny and happy than just angst like I think the prompt intended and I probably cocked this all up and will regret this and just FFFFFFFFFFFF—Here goes nothing!)
(THANK YOU MAMAPIPS FOR THE HELP~)
_________________________________________________________
~Memories~
It was suppose to be a simple barbeque. A friendly get together as a tentative joining of Charles Xavier’s X-men, and Magneto’s Brotherhood, following the rocky start of the two leaders’ relationship.
It had taken Charles months to coax Erik into trying to introduce their groups to each other and create at least a close partnership between the their teams, if not a full merging. Erik insisted it would not work, that both his and Charles’ ideals were too different for them to even get along all the time, much less their followers, but Charles the eternal optimist insisted and eventually Erik decided to indulge him.
They decided to meet at Xavier’s school, a ground both sides have had experience navigating, and a place with secure accommodations for every mutant already on hand. Then after the chaotic setting of a date and time, (a topic so debated that both Xavier and Magneto snapped at anyone who tried to even mention a calendar to them for days after) there was just the preparing and gathering for their people.
It was tense at the beginning, Logan and Sabertooth snarling at each other from opposite ends of the pool, Emma flirting lightly with Scott to irritate Jean, Raven coolly ignoring Charles, and Rogue glaring at Erik every time he stepped into her line of sight.
For the first hour, Charles was worried he was going to have to step up and announce that everyone should calm down or leave, but luckily some of the younger children and recruits actually managed to ignore the animosity between the two sets of warriors and jumped in the water to begin playing.
Once everyone began to relax and either watch or participate in the rounds of water polo and diving competitions, Charles pulled Logan from his staring match to help him start cooking the food.
Even though the Canadian’s cooking style and habits were what Charles gently called “unorthodox”, the results were hard to deny and so Charles did not hesitate to set the man up with the barbeque to prepare the meat.
However, much to Charles’ dismay, Logan got distracted by Sabertooth once again, and at one point had to hurry over and tried to salvage part of the main meal.
It took Charles a few moments though, as he desperately flicked the scorched hotdogs and burnt steak onto a plate and away from the flames, to realize that the smoke had not been the only source of rippling panicked thoughts that echoed in his mind. When the last piece was saved, he looked up, only to see everyone frozen and staring at his partner who was only a few feet from the barbeque.
There was a pause, as if the small world that contained them had taken a moment to hold its breath in anticipation, and then chaos broke out.
It started with just a shudder, a small quiver that was barely noticeable in the metal patio furniture and barbeque stand, as the first few pulses of Erik’s power flared up and Charles began to softly utter “Erik it’s alright—”, before the mutants started fleeing from the pool side furniture and metal cutlery that began to fly.
The pieces twisted and screeched in the air as they went soaring over people’s heads, Charles mentally commanding everyone to enter the house and back away from the windows and doors as he tried to head towards his friend. It took him far too long to reach Erik, and Charles felt himself growing annoyed when a few veterans of both sides refused to back away that he had little qualms mentally pushing them to go into the mansion until they did turn to go inside.
When he finally got close enough to Erik, trying to dodge the flying debris, Charles was glad he sent them away.
Erik was mumbling softly under his breath, pupils blown wide but unseeing as a jumbled flow of Hebrew, German and broken English poured from his lips.
“Friend…”
Charles could feel his heart ache, both in sympathy and fear for the other male as he reached up to touch his friend’s temple. The lack of response gave Charles an implied consent to dive in to Magneto’s mind, needing to draw the other back to the present and subdue him before Erik or anyone else got hurt.
What he found left him breathless in horror.
Before he could even breach the stream of endless letters and lines of thought, his senses were overwhelmed with haunting memories. He could hear the wails of people screaming, howling in their grief as the images of bodies, some too thin and brittle, others too small and helpless, pushed into large metal ovens to be burnt away to dust flashed in his eyes. The image of the flames, how it licked at the flesh, blackening it and making it swell and crack so what little fat inside could burst out and bubble disgusted Charles, but it came nothing to the stench. A smell of rot, of death and of human waste flaring up with the heat and tainted with the nauseating scent of burnt flesh and fat reaped havoc on his mind, making him feel ill and dirty at the same time and filling him with an urge to weep for the horrors he was being subjected to.
Charles forged on through the tattered and flickering sensations, doing his best to face these memories of Erik’s to try to reach the other, for if their lingering spirit was shaking his own constitution, then Erik’s was surely broken.
As soon as the first ghost began to dissipate though, another rose in its place. This time the sprinkle of falling ash and dead sparks landed on his face, almost like kisses from the otherwise furious fire that was consuming the home before him. He could feel the ache of his lungs, the distant sound of him screaming as if his voice was coming through from the far end of a long tunnel of smoke.
ANYA! LASSEN SIE MICH LOS! ANYA!!!
Instead of sorrow and revulsion, terror and anger froze his veins, even under the heat of the flames. He wanted to run in, he needed to save her and these men were pushing him back—!
ANYA!
And then Charles realized who this girl was, understood why Erik had fought so hard to face the danger and memories of the fire to storm in the collapsing home. What was the point of saving himself when his daughter was trapped and burning alive in her childhood home?
He tried to gather himself mentally, knowing he had to be strong for them both to overcome this. He had not realized Erik had tried to start a family, had actually accomplished it before fire came once again to steal precious life away from him again.
First his people, his parents, and then his daughter.
Charles stored this information to study later, this giving more answers to his many questions when it came to Erik’s reluctance to get close to anyone emotionally and physically. First, he had to calm his fellow mutant down.
Erik, I need you to calm down to focus for me—
But a mental shove, forceful like a blast wave and sounding like the bellowing cry of a dying beast, roared at him and tried to push him away.
In the mental plane though, Charles held the most power and so he continued to push towards the center of the vortex of animal rage and fear swirling in Erik’s mind to reach the eye of the storm.
Erik, it’s me, it’s Xavier, Charles…Please, let me see, let me understand.
Just as swift as it came to a head of choking gas and black soot, it died away; still twisting around him but leaving him untouched to see the pure white emotions lying in the heart of the black clouds.
Regret, guilt, loss, pain, anguish, numbness, confusion, and hopelessness rested at Charles’ feet, laid bared and sharp like glass shards ready to dig in tender and draw blood.
Oh..oh my dear friend…
Charles took a moment to mourn the suffering Erik had to endure with these feelings for the past years before he bowed down to start gathering up the pieces.
This is not your fault. He started, working on alleviating the man’s guilt. You were young then, both times, and in situations you could not help…
Then picking up the next shards of hopelessness and then confusion he continued.
You did your best for the situation that was before you. We both know there are times where you cannot do anything but your best, and still not have it be enough…But that in no way makes you wrong friend, it just means there was no more you could have done.
One by one he coaxed the painfully white fragments to lift into his palm, each of them turning into hunks of harmless metal ore as he gathered them up, and let Erik see how he could use these emotions to strengthen him, instead of rend him.
We are not perfect Erik, all people have flaws, human and mutant alike. He brushed gently over the last glass blade, the emotion of loss still trembling in its strength over the man it was hurting. And we, for the most part, are mortal, not even able to impede the flecks of sand as time passed through the hourglass and marks us all.
Taking a firm grip, he pulled gently, just lightly trying to relieve the weight of it. Life hurts, it cuts, it burns, it breaks and leaves us with so many scars that we cannot count them for their number is too great for us to comprehend.
However, we have to keep striving forward, for as much as we lose, we gain so much more.
Knowing he could not simply free the other of the pain just by cauterizing it, he tenderly helped Erik summon the memories he had long repressed.
A soft voice softly singing a lullaby in his ear, a gentle hand picking him up and wiping away his tears, the sight of a red, flowing skirt that he hid behind in bouts of shyness, the smell of familiar, comforting perfume and cologne…
His own voice singing old lullabies to his tiny “miracle”, holding her late nights when she whined, the sight of her grey eyes when she smiled up at him, the smell of her baby powder dusting the air…
You had still gained so much from them Erik, they are not with us now, but you have not lost them. All these memories, all these feelings of love and tenderness means they are still here, just inside you.
Slowly the wound began to close. It would probably take more years to heal, but the first steps of recovery had begun.
Now, come back to your people, to me. We still have more memories to give each other and I would be disappointed with the missed opportunity.
It was the rights words, the time for coddling past and when they opened their eyes, Charles gave a weak chuckle.
“Well…the yard has obviously been remodeled.”
Erik had the decency to look slightly ashamed as they surveyed the wreckage of unidentifiable warped metal and torn up garden.
“But…” Turning to his partner, Charles continued to smile. “I think we should probably go calm the others and order some pizza to be delivered.”
It took a small pause, for Erik to find his voice while Charles patiently waited.
“That…sounds like a very good plan.”
They left what triggered the reaction unsaid, what happened in Erik’s mind and the history that went along with it would be acknowledged all in good time. For that moment, however, they were too preoccupied by keeping the two groups from killing each other before they could decide what toppings to get
~The End~
I’ve been itching to write some small shots, and since I tend to not word vomit with my tumblr writings, I was wondering if anyone would be up for some ask box filling!
Just send a message, send an ask, or even answer this directly with some sort of prompt and I will try to give it a mini fill!
The request can be anything from just a simple pairing with maybe a direction tacked on the end (like angst, funny, or fluff), an actual plot idea, or (for those of you more daring) actually starting a fic for me and I’ll attempt to finish/continue it! Just please try to do enough for one story, if you have multiple requests you want to send in, try to send them in separately so I can give them equal amounts of attention and not get overwhelmed by one message!
The pairings I can do will be in the tags (if it’s not there, you can still ask for it, but I might not do it justice, to give fair warning) and the opportunity for putting in requests will be open for a few days (if not weeks) so do not panic if you miss it at first, or if it takes a day or two for the reply to show up!
So…who wants a story?
A self depreciating post that will get lost in about ten minutes between celebrity reblogs and cute animal photos but something I need to write and leave somewhere because I have no where else to put it with out feeling choked and muted.
Asked by elsian
1. First impression: “Oh my, where am I, I am not suppose to be here, there’s an amazing person over there being amazing and not a bush in sight to stalk them in.”
2. Truth is: I want to hug you and follow you around and read all of your stories again and again, even the pairings I do not know.
3. How old do you look: I don’t know if I have seen you, but I am going to say you look the perfect age to take out and go Hiddleston stalking with.
4. Have you ever made me laugh: Yes, a strange laugh too.
5. Have you ever made me mad: Nope, but you have made me smile!
6. Best feature: Your confidence, when you have it. Makes me a bit envious at times but you deserve every bit of your confidence with the talent you have!
7. Have I ever had a crush on you: A fellow writer kind of crush.
8. You’re my: You’re my go to when I have Thoki itch that needs a good scratching and the one I look at to mutter “One day…I can be that awesome.”
9. Name in my phone: You’re not in my phone by you are listed in my mind as “The Els: No Adjectives Needed”
10. Should you post this too? Myeppers!