#erik range

[smilechiales]

I think it's funny that I didn't really care for the Minecraft movie but now that my favorite youtuber has a speaking role in it, I need to watch it of course

[wishchip106]

thinking about these guys again

can’t believe Emma still decided to join Erik after witnessing these gays firsthand

NO! EMMA!! RUN WHILE YOU STILL HAVE THE CHANCE!! SAVE YOURSELF!!!

oh 😿 well at least you tried…

[chiropteracupola]

all my homies hate erik larson!!

[cultofthepigeon]

do you think they hid the guns from erik when he was running around playing double agent at nebakov

[brainrotcharacters]

If Angel Shaw is such a baby to you fuckers, they wouldn't be able to have an apartment for David to insult, yes?

If that's such a thing, Angel wouldn't have an adult job that David comforts them about, yes?

I'm trying and failing gentle parenting here. I've only been in this fandom for as long as Erik's been married.

Don't baby Angel as a character.

Don't. Baby. Angel. As. A character.

[britishchick09]

i discovered my vocal range! :D

my head voice is g3 to a5...

and a mezzo soprano!! :o

[columbidaehypoxia]

If u r actively encouraging Eggers to make a new phantom of the opera may I suggest you hire me to make one instead or shut the fuck up before he ruins something else

[vampirecatprince]

It's always insane remembering that I can, with proper warm up, actually sing-along to both the Phantom and Christine's parts (mostly).

[bigautomaton]

I love engaging in dialogue sparked by tangentially related sketches

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this is brought up in the podcast. Like America has a marginally lesser problem with straight up Monsters because of gun culture or something like that. It's been a little bit BUT I think that is a point that's made where some of the fears have to tread differently because Americans will just Shoot or otherwise harm the weird thing instead of just trying to run away.

There's also that regional uhhh myth culture stuff that differs on where you're at. Like in Appalachia if you think you heard a "Hey!" or "Come here!" from the tree line, no you didn't. Ignore that shit. You're taught very early on that you're going to hear things from the woods and you're supposed to just ignore it and not go looking around. You're not supposed to look past the tree line at night where I am especially if you're driving. Worried about deer running out into the road? Too bad, don't look between the trees.

There's a few ways it could go in America and I feel that the two popular ways to engage with the fears would be to face a threat head on and be each other's problem till only one is walking away OR you're turning your ass around and ignoring that thing and it's just not your problem anymore

Me? Forgetting to post my sketch pages? Expect it by now, honestly.

[wishchip106]

they’re looking at each other trust 😔🙏

i wonder what things Erik might be thinking about to have Charles make that face…

something for sure 👀

[jennxxe]

Clean cut.

pairing — erik campbell x fem! reader

summary — you go get a belly piercing ;)

warnings — 18+, vaginal sex, p in v, getting a piercing done sooo needles -> he makes it hurt more on purpose, cursing, eating out, fingering, THAT DAMN PRINCE ALBERT PIERCING, public sex, sex on job, no protection, creampie, getting caught, dom erik, he is lq an asshole

a/n — english IS NOT my first language so u might see a major mix of american and british wording <3

The parlor was dead. Not unusual for a Wednesday afternoon. Erik was slouched behind the counter, picking at the edge of a healed tattoo on his wrist as some loud rock song blasted from the nearby speakers. He wasn’t even pretending to work. The appointment book was blank for hours, his boss was out, probably arguing with a supplier about ink prices or flirting with someone twenty years younger, and Erik was killing time the way he always did: zoning out and trying to fight the inner demons telling him to impulsively tattoo himself again.

Then the bell over the door rang.

He didn’t look up at first. Most people walked in, saw the flash portfolio of poorly drawn roses from his boss’ early years, and walked right back out. But this one didn’t. You stepped in like you belonged there. Confident, slow, but not the fake kind of sexy. The real kind. No effort. Just existing.

Oh.

Well, fuck.

Black jeans. Black top. Belly showing—smooth, soft, pierced already? No, not yet. You walked right up to the desk like you knew exactly what you wanted. He sat up straighter, but kept his usual half-bored look.

“How can i help you?” he asked, the forced customer voice coming out dry as hell.

You leaned on the counter. “Looking to get a belly piercing.”

Erik exhaled through his nose, tapping the pen against the clip of the waiver forms. “Any chance you’re eighteen? Or is this gonna turn into me losing my job?”

You just hummed, pulling your ID out of your bag. You slid it across the counter like you’d done this before. Maybe not the piercing, but the part where you didn’t waste time. He liked that.

He took it, flipped it lazily between his fingers. “Shit. A real adult. Scary.” He hands it back. “Name’s Erik. Paperwork’s over there. Sign it so I don’t end up in court.”

You didn’t flinch. Picked up the clipboard, filled it out with a rhythm that said you weren’t nervous. Just bored. Or maybe calm. Same difference, in his experience.

He watched your hands. The way your fingers moved. Quick. Confident. Jewelry on your knuckles. You looked like the kind of girl who said what she meant and didn’t ask for permission first. That did something to him. You finished. Handed it back. Still didn’t smile.

“This way,” he said, nodding toward the back. The piercing room was small, red-lit, and always too warm. Like being inside someone’s bloodstream. Not his call. His boss thought the color was “edgy.” Erik thought it made everyone look like they were bleeding out.

“Hop up,” he said. Gloves snapped on. “Shirt up. Not for fun, unfortunately.” You laid back, lifted the hem, settled like it was nothing. He sterilized the skin. Marked the spot. Grabbed the clamp. Everything neat, practiced.

“You breathe in when I say. Out when I say. Don’t fuck it up.” He jabbed a finger at you like he was the drill sergeant of piercings.

You rolled your eyes, smirking. “What, you gonna hold my hand through it, too?”

Erik blinked. Did you just... sass him? Yeah, you did. And goddamn if that didn’t make his blood pressure spike.

“Well, maybe I will,” he muttered, sliding the needle closer. “For someone with that attitude, I might have to make it sting a little.”

You laughed, short and sharp, and he caught it like a challenge. So he did. Just a fraction longer with the needle. Enough for you to tense up, grit your teeth. Not enough to make you scream, but enough to make it clear this wasn’t a joke.

You glared, caught him looking. “Asshole,” you said.

He shrugged, pulling the clamp away like it was no big deal. “Told you not to fuck it up.”

You sat up slowly, fingers brushing your fresh piercing like you weren’t sure if it was real or just some weird new weight on your skin. Then, with the kind of casual confidence that drove him crazy, you bent down to grab your bag. Erik’s blue eyes caught the curve of your back, the way the light hit her skin just right.

And before his brain even had a chance to think, the words slipped out.

“I charge extra for turning me on, just so you know.”

He froze. Shit.

You looked up, eyebrows raised, a slow smile curling on your lips like you knew he meant it, even if he was too proud to admit it. Erik cleared his throat, trying to sound like he’d planned the whole thing.

“What? Gotta warn people about hidden fees.”

You laughed. He pretended to wipe his hands on his jeans, but damn if his heart didn’t just skip a beat. He shifted in place, one hand instinctively dropping to cover the bulge in the front of his jeans like it was some kind of emergency. Not that he wanted you to notice… Definitely not.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than you. “Keep it together, Campbell.”

You caught the movement out of the corner of your eye and smirked just a little, like you already knew the effect you had. Erik cleared his throat, shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and tried to act like nothing happened.

“Like I said, extra fee. Keeps things interesting.”

You slung the bag over your shoulder but didn’t move toward the door. Just stood there, eyes on him like you were thinking something over. Dangerous kind of silence.

Erik didn’t move either. Still playing it off, like he wasn’t hiding the fact that his jeans were suddenly had a tent in them.

“You good?” he asked, voice a little lower than before.

You tilted your head. “Yeah. Just wondering something.”

“Oh yeah?”

You took a step closer. Not playful, purposeful. Eyes steady on his like you could read straight through all the shit he tried to hide behind sarcasm and black clothes.

“What happens if I don’t pay the extra fee?”

That made his jaw twitch. Heat lit up his spine like a fuse. He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

Because the second you were close enough, his hand shot out, curling into your shirt like a reflex. Pulled you in, hard, right into him. The kiss hit fast, rough, all teeth and impulse. He didn’t think, didn’t plan, just slammed his mouth against yours like he needed to shut you up and taste you at the same time.

You kissed back just as hard, fingers threading into his messy black hair, tugging a little—enough to make him groan into your mouth. His hands slid to your hips, gripping tight like he wanted to anchor himself or maybe ruin you a little, too.

The taste of you. The sound you made when he bit your bottom lip. The way your body pressed into his, like you weren’t just letting it happen.. you were in it.

He pushed you back until you hit the wall, hard enough to rattle the frame behind you. Didn’t say sorry. Just kissed you deeper, rougher, like he was trying to unmake your mouth with his own. His lips started trailing down your jaw, biting at the edge of your throat, and you gasped just loud enough to make him dizzy.

“Shit,” he breathed against your skin, voice wrecked. “You’re a fucking problem.”

Your laugh was breathless, smug. “Then do something about it.”

Your hands slid up under his shirt and he flinched—not from nerves, just from how fast his body reacted. You traced the line of his stomach, felt the cold steel of his nipple piercings under your palms.

You paused. He bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low. “They’re real.” Your fingers flicked one, gentle at first. Then firmer. He hissed through his teeth, head dropping to your shoulder. “Shit. Keep doing that and I’m gonna fuck you right here.”

You didn’t stop.

His hands were already under your shirt, pushing it up, not bothering with gentle. He wanted to see. To feel. Skin against skin, your body warm against the metal pressing through him. He swore under his breath, grinding against you like it was instinct, like he needed friction or he’d combust.

Then your hand dropped lower. Over the front of his jeans. And when you pressed your palm there, he shuddered.

Yeah. You felt it.

“Fuck,” he muttered again, low and desperate. “If I let you see what else is pierced, you better know what you’re doing.”

Your breath caught. But you didn’t move away.

You didn’t say anything, just leaned into him, lips brushing his jaw in a slow, deliberate tease. Your hand moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up just enough to reveal the countless tattoos on his chest and stomach.

Erik caught the motion, his pulse spiking. He grabbed your wrist, holding your hand against his chest for a moment. Before he could think twice, Erik’s other hand dipped lower, fingers tracing the curve of your hip.

His mouth found yours again, harsher this time, teeth grazing your bottom lip as he kissed you like he was going to die tomorrow. His tongue slid inside, claiming your mouth with a fierce urgency.

You responded, hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer as if you wanted to drown in him. Erik’s body pressed against yours, hard and unyielding, the sharpness of his piercings a thrilling contrast to the softness you offered.

“Oh, ho-ly fuck.” Erik groaned, hands gripping your waist tighter as he spun you around, pressing your front against the cold wall. His lips trailed down your neck, teeth grazing, tongue flicking, each touch a promise and a threat all at once. The wall was cold in front you, but the heat between you was molten, dangerous.

Your breath hitched, body arching back into his like you were looking for more. Erik didn’t hesitate. Pants came off in one rough pull, exposing skin that was both scarred and marked, tattoos looking even darker in the dim red light. The silver bars through his nipples caught your gaze again, sharp, electric.

You reached behind you, fingertips tracing the metal slowly, deliberately. The touch was soft but enough to send a jolt straight through him.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice low and rough. “You touch those again, I’m not responsible for what happens.” Your hands slid under his jeans, hot and insistent, fingers wrapping around him through the fabric. His breath hitched, hips pressing forward, reacting before his brain could catch up.

He ripped your pants down in a brutal motion, bare skin meeting bare skin, electric, raw. His hands mapped your body—hipbones, the curve of your waist, the slight dip of your back—memorizing every inch.

You shivered under his touch, breath catching as his fingers found the hem of your panties. Slowly, carefully, he peeled them down just enough to reveal the wetness between your legs. In no time he was naked as well.

His fingers ghosted over your cunt, tracing your clit, then pressed lightly, making you gasp.

“Damn,” he said, voice thick. “You better leave me a five star review after this.”

He kissed down your neck again, teeth grazing sensitive skin, tongue flicking teasingly. He made hickey after hickey as his middle finger pressed into you, the ring he was wearing making you hiss lightly.

The cool steel of his Prince Albert piercing brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver through you both.

Erik stared at you, his blue eyes betraying that he’s contemplating something. He licked his lips, his gaze fixated on your most intimate area. After a moment of hesitation, he seemed to come to a decision.

“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, dropping to his knees behind of you. “Spread your legs a bit.”

As he was placing soothing kisses along your inner thighs, you arched your back. He could also see exactly where his finger disappeared into you. It made his cock twitch.

Erik pulled his finger out before pressing a feather-light kiss to your clit, feeling the heat against his lips. A soft moan escaped your lips as he traced the tip of his tongue along your slit, savouring your flavour.

"No wonder you act like that—walking around with a pussy like this," he mumbled against your folds before he could stop himself. He paused and pulled away slightly, “… I don’t know why the fuck I said that, pretend it never happened.”

You look back at him, smirking. “You mean how you said that— ow!” He bites your clit lightly before you can finish your sentence, arm curling around your hips so you get a clear view of him showing you his middle finger.

He delved deeper, licking and suckling as your hips rocked back against his face. Two fingers probed your entrance as soon as he pulled away, sliding in easily thanks to your wetness.

Erik worked his fingers in and out, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside that made you see stars. His blue eyes were focused intently on the view in front of him as his other hand unconsciously started stroking his cock.

He pulled his fingers out, slow on purpose, watched them glisten in the red light. Wiped them across his tongue, like he was tasting something expensive. Then he stood up, dick hard and twitching in his fist, and looked down at you like you were a problem only he knew how to solve.

“Table,” he muttered. “Now.”

Not a request. You hesitated—half dazed, half drunk on whatever the hell that just was.

He smacked your ass, not playfully. Just to move you. “I said, get the fuck up there.”

No sweet tone. No smirk. Just pure impatience and the kind of lust that felt like it was about to boil over.

You stumbled a bit climbing onto the cold metal, but he didn’t help you. Just watched, running his hand along his length like he was sick of waiting.

And when you were finally where he wanted you—on your knees, hands bracing the edge—he stepped up behind you, close enough for you to feel the heat of him.

He leaned down, breath against your ear, and said low: “You wanna act like a bitch, fine. But you’re taking all of it. Don’t cry about it after.”

You glance back at him, breath still shaky. “...So. No condom?”

Erik’s already lining himself up, one hand gripping your hip like he owns it.

“Nah.”

A beat of silence.

You blink. “That’s it? Just nah?”

He smirks, eyes dragging up your back. “You think I ate you out like that and wasn’t gonna go in raw?”

You open your mouth to say something smart—he cuts you off by pushing in.

Conversation over.

He pushed in with one long, deliberate thrust—and you felt it. Not just him. The piercing.

Cold, smooth, and then—God. The way it dragged just slightly on the way in, brushing that sensitive spot inside you like it was designed for one thing and one thing only: driving you absolutely out of your mind.

Your mouth fell open, a sound catching in your throat.

Erik just groaned through his teeth, hands gripping your hips so tight you swore you’d bruise. “Yeah,” he hissed, voice wrecked. “Feel that?”

You nodded, too far gone for words. He thrust again, a little harder—and the way the metal shifted, hit just right—you swore your knees almost gave out.

He leaned forward, lips grazing your ear as he slammed in deeper. “Fuck,” he bit out, jaw clenching. “You feel like you were made for this.”

That damn ring made every stroke feel like too much, like he was rubbing your nerves raw from the inside and Erik knew. He could feel the way your body clenched around him every time it caught, and he started chasing that angle like a man possessed.

"Not so mouthy now, huh?" His breath was hot at your neck. "Thought you'd be tougher than this."

And still he kept going. Each thrust rougher, more perfect than the last, until all you could think about was the feel of him, the stretch of him, and that unholy pressure of cold steel and heat dragging you closer to the edge with every brutal, perfect snap of his hips.

He was close. You could feel it in the way his rhythm turned erratic, rougher. His hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he was anchoring himself to your body or maybe just claiming it.

“Gonna fill you up,” he groaned, low and feral. “You better take every—”

The door opened.

Both your heads snapped up.

Erik didn’t stop.

He should’ve. He didn’t.

His boss froze mid-step. “What the—are you serious, Campbell?! On the piercing table?!”

You gasped, a garbled mix of embarrassment and moan, but Erik just locked eyes with the guy like he was being inconvenienced, not caught raw-dogging someone naked in the middle of the shop.

“Dude,” Erik snapped, breath ragged. “Knock.”

Then he buried himself to the hilt and came.

Hard.

His eyes rolled back, jaw clenched, every muscle tensed as he emptied inside you with a low, wrecked grunt—still staring his boss dead in the face like it was a power move.

You trembled under him, completely wrecked, and the worst part? He didn’t even look apologetic.

The boss made some strangled sound, already backing toward the door. “I’m writing you up for this—Jesus Christ—”

Erik just grinned through heavy breaths. “Make it two. I ‘finished’ on the clock.”

Translation? Yeah, write me up twice. One for screwing on the piercing table, and one for ejaculating while technically still on the job—like he's being "paid" while busting inside you.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

The hot summer party

Erik Campbell x fem!reader

warning : fluff, comfort, kissing, injury

Summary : The Campbell's summer party was coming up and Erik had taken his girlfriend along. But no one could have guessed what was going on in the fun and togetherness and when a scream rang out the ‘curse’ seemed to have struck.

info : Erik is such a cutie, I'm looking forward to the film and hope you all enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since she'd met him, her boyfriend with his hard exterior, countless tattoos and piercings, she'd fallen head over heels in love with him.

Erik also with his love, her enthusiasm and the support she gave him, new ideas for tattoos or when ordering the piercings and choosing the colour.

She was his muse and he was the artist who brought this art to people's skin.

A couple that got through everything together, whether it was the little salary they both made in their ‘artistic’ professions, the problems with bureaucracy or just getting through the week.

Lying exhausted on the couch together in the flat and cuddling...even when a series of accidents seemed to be haunting the city, they had each other to work with.

That wasn't going to matter, at least for today on this bright, warm, sunny summer's day when his family's party and get-together was due.

"I don't know, it's your family meeting", she wanted to wave it off at first, they had only been together for a few months and even though she had been to birthdays with him, she knew how close his family was. Was she really allowed into this circle?

But Erik's hand on hers as he pulled her to him and felt the kiss he gave her told her quite quickly that he had long considered her part of his family.

"They like you, I love you it's going to be good...besides you just have to make your strawberry muffins" he persuaded her and she gave him a nudge on the nose, a small token of love and her love for his somewhat ‘alternative’ look.

No sooner said than done, just two days later on that sunny weekend they both turned up at his family home, with a bottle of alcohol in one of Erik's and her with her muffins in the other, they were welcome guests.

"Oh how lovely that you're here too, dear," she heard his grandmother's cheerful voice and Iris pulled her into a warm embrace.

"Thank you Miss Campbell I-I hope the muffins taste good,” she replied with a slight smile and saw the older woman smile broadly when she saw the muffins with cream and strawberries on top.

They're not just Erik's favourite desserts, she thought to herself as Iris took a muffin and seemed to be in seventh heaven, "Sweetie, they're delicious, just call me Iris,” the head of the family said with a wink and she immediately felt welcome in the family.

How could she not when there was a warm, friendly and excited atmosphere all around her?

The trampoline was set up, the garden was in bloom, the kale was being stirred into drinks, Erik was on his way to the kitchen and she followed him to tell him about his grandma.

On the way, Erik's sister Julia gave her a hug that seemed to indicate that her older brother finally had a relationship, let alone a partner, "I'll do my best to support him" she replied as the blonde said goodbye with an already mixed drink outside.

The Campbells were a colourful mix of personalities, but they were all family, they all stuck together despite their differences, something she appreciated.

"So, my grill master, how's it going?" she asked, giving Erik a hug from behind, as he was busy wielding the wooden meat hammer to soften the steaks and load them onto a plate with the sausages.

"Well, your grill master is as good as ready," he grinned and gave the meat a final tap, putting the hammer aside and washing his hands to get the marinade and fat off, "I know where you got your appetite for my muffin now,” she grinned, hearing his laughter.

Giving him a quick kiss, she escorted him back outside before leaving him alone at the grill and joining the rest of his family who quickly engaged her in conversation about her job, how she met Erik and just a little small talk.

It was pleasant, she sipped her drink, twirled the cocktail umbrella and helped herself to one of her muffins, enjoying the sun and the few clouds in front of her and barely noticing the breeze, which was so inconsequential that she barely registered it.

She didn't see how the wind seemed to take over the garden, how it set something in motion little by little, and she was only startled when she heard the scream of Erik, who backed away from the barbecue and almost fell down when he held his hand.

Calling his name and immediately putting down her drink, she hurried over to the black-haired man who had been barbecuing peacefully moments before, seeing that something had tipped over the oil and the flames had shot up.

Looking back at Erik, he was being held by his father and his mother seemed to be looking for ice, the others made some room, "I'll take him inside, you get the first aid kit," she said as she remembered her first aid training when she had worked at the nursing home for a few summers to afford her car.

It had been a few months but it didn't matter how she had to deal with Erik's injury, if it was bad they would have to go to hospital straight away, "It...I'm fine thanks I'm still alive guys" the black haired man tried to reassure his family and girlfriend.

They helped him in and sat him on the couch while she stayed with him, "Your family is just as stubborn as you are” she tried to distract him from the pain of the burn, not wanting to imagine how the burning didn't seem to stop and put her hand on his arm.

"Well it has to come from somewhere” he said tensely and in his eyes there was pain and annoyance at the seeming accidental nature of the accident.

His mum brought the first aid kit and he talked to her for a few minutes that they could go, that they should carry on barbecuing and he'd be right with them.

"My brave boy" she smiled and he just shook his head slightly as he held out his hand to her. Lucky no bad burns and he can move it she thought as she looked at his hand and told him to move it.

The skin wasn't charred, nor was anything fused to the skin, it was mostly the shock that made him cry out, "Don't worry it will be ok" she reassured him and he immediately relaxed a little, "My good caring fairy" he replied and thanked her as she started to 'caress 'heal' him.

Every now and then his free hand held on to her, making a few unpleasant noises and asking how long it would take before she finally finished after a few minutes, looked at his bandaged hand and gave him a cold pack.

"My dear patient, but if you get any worse we'll go to the hospital, I don't want you-" she couldn't continue her lecture as Erik kissed her again pulling her to him.

She could just feel him smirking, pulling her close, kissing her whenever she got too lost in something, when he just wanted to know that she was with him.

That his love was always there for him.

Holding her hand and giving her his "When you're worried you're really hot” and he raised his hand demonstratively, causing her to smile as she gave him one last kiss and walked out with her dear patient.

Holding his hand they rejoined his family and in fact the party went off without incident, a sign that perhaps something bigger had brought them together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@starry-eyed-wild-child , @porterroths , @soranokage , @l3ft2d3ad

[raincitygirl76]

Watch this, it's so good!

This is such a banger of a song tbh.

this one feels a lil silly, had lot of trouble with colours and was sleep deprived for half of it. Might remake it someday.

[cullenedward]

every outfit worn by the brothers in monsters: the lyle and erik menendez story

kill or be killed (1.04) — lyle's black shooting range t-shirt

[drmaddict]

Don't say it!

Summary: Giry catches Erik and (Y/n) in an extremely intimate situation. Erik would like to sink into the ground. (Y/n) doesn't understand the drama.

Word count: 329

Author's note: I wrote this in ten minutes. Just fluff. Have fun.

"Erik come out. Please!"

"No!", he shouted through the bathroom door.

She sighed. "Nothing's happened," she tried again.

"Nothing happened? She saw us!"

"It was only Giry. She brought me to you. I think she knows we're not just drinking tea and talking."

"She didn't have my permission to come down here!", he nagged.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. "And she apologised profusely. She'll never do it again." She reached for the doorknob. "Open up now. Please."

"No.", his voice rang out. Defiant, like that of a little boy.

"Erik, we were just-"

The door was pulled open with a jerk. "Don't say it!" His eyes looked at her with determination. His hair was still sticking up a little from his head. Only his mask had found its place again. An anchor when he felt insecure.

"It's perfectly normal for couples to do this.", she tried to reassure him.

"It's too..."

"Too what?"

"Too human." he concluded, his face screwed up in disgust.

She raised an eyebrow. "My angel, you are human."

He just shook his head and pushed past her. "I am the phantom. The angel of the night. I can't be human."

She probably sighed for the tenth time in the last five minutes. Her diva as he lives and breathes.

He walked briskly to his organ and dropped onto the stool. His slender fingers rested on the keys, but didn't press a single one. They only felt the wood. Created a connection to ground him. "You make me weak.", he concluded.

She rolled her eyes. She placed her hands on his face. One felt the warm skin, the other the cool porcelain of the mask. "I understand you're uncomfortable with all this, but it's not like she saw us sleeping with each other." She ran her thumb reassuringly over his cheek.

"I would have preferred that."

She rolled her eyes. "Erik! We were just cuddling!"

He looked at her as if he'd bitten into a lemon.

(Gif is not mine)

[leilohsstupidgaystuff]

You know what I would have loved in Days of Future Past? Hank snapping and yelling at Erik, about what Charles went through in the past 10 years.

Erik: You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?

Hank *putting on autopilot and storming out of the cockpit* You fucking asshole! So what if he did? What do you care? Shouldn't you be glad? Aren't you happy you don't have to put on your stupid helmet again? Shutting him out again? Breaking his heart even more? You made him already feel guilty about having his powers, do you really have to make him feel guilty about not having them? You have no right to talk about his legs like that. You shot him and then pulled out the bullet, I mean how little common sense do you have, to do such shit?

Charles: Hank, it's alright...

Hank: No. Nothing is alright. Don't you dare say that anything is alright, not after the last fucking ten years. *turning to Erik again* Do you have any idea of what you did? Not only put you on that stupid helmet and killed Shawn, which Charles felt by the way. -Oh you didn't know? Strange, and I thought you two were so damm good in talking about your feelings- Not only did you shot a bullet exactly at his spine and pulled it out again. No you had to take Raven with you. His only family left. The only nice person there was, in his fucked up childhood. You took her with you and left him alone, in pain and with the feeling that his powers were something wrong, the only mutation you shouln't be proud of. So yeah, excuse him for not only taking the opportunity of being able to walk again, but to shut his so damm hated power down. And don't even get me started on your fucked up relationship. Do you honestly think, we belived that you two were just really great friends? What do you think happens, when you break the heart of someone, who loved you so deeply, in such a cruel way? Not just someone, but a telepath, with a range of emotions we can't even grasp to understand. That they stay as cold as you? That they just keep going?So again; excuse him, excuse him for having emotions, for falling into a depression and for getting addicted to drugs and alcohol. Now would you do us all the favour of having a little bit of emotional intelligence or shutting the fuck up, asshole?

Logan: *grinning* I just rememberd why I like you.