#kinda inspired by that song at the end

[killerolives]

day 16 prompt: angel

he carries no message, nor acts as an agent of any diety. i catch myself watching, green with envy, yet sub-consciously taking notes. a character study; a personality transplant. the very notion of moving freely has, i realise with a sense of shame, never even occured to me. i am embrassed by my obedience and i am angry with him for making me aware of it. i make lists,  obsessively, imitating the way his lips move, the sureness of his words. no angel has liberated me as he has, and the burn of my jealously flashes and dies as quick as it appeared, making way for something more tender. he teaches me to move in a way that belongs only to me, unaware of the precious gift of autonomy that he has bestowed. slowly, i outgrow the traits i stole and build my own in place. my research becomes nothing more than evidence of my affection for him. something which is mine, and mine alone. 

[sunnystrikerz]

Mac and his scary titan privileges :]

[leafuxxtea]

cw ⚠️ blood

"I just laughed as if I was crying

All eyes on me, a lying deepfaker"

smth smth mikoto kayano

(redraw of that frame from nisekao by yama down below)

[shimmershy]

Take it back to the start...

I've had a change of heart!

[londondungeon2]

omfg it’s almost midnight here and i have to get up for work at 5 AM but let me compose at least some of my thoughts …

ok idia x robot girl! reader … hear me out 🥺

someone he creates to cure his loneliness of companionship in a tender way that ortho just cannot do; ugh i’m imagining a plain head just sitting on the desk, stripped down to the metal and skinless; him asking which eye color you like the best until it lands upon yours;

the midnight conversations as he builds a body; the pining from the reader (is it actual pining or are you just scraping the edges of desperate self perseverance so he doesn’t trash you like the other models); kind of dream-like transition between adding each body parts (like imagine yourself lying in a tub of ink — cheeks, nose, lips, a slight peel of your forehead visible — and eventually it all drains down as more and more body parts are added);

the first very touch of human flesh upon you; the cracked polystyrene blinks that you give with twitchy eyelashes; you siphon your romantic tendencies between a messy mélange of gritty 18+ hentai and victorian romance novellas; idia pours his damned and tormented soul into making you perfect for him and you pour yourself willingly into the image, designed just for one man <3

past midnight edit:

BRUH TO THIS SOnG

yeah to this fuckin banger

((past midnight edit again: there are really only two ways you can go with robot main characters: the building process or the robot being oblivious and thinking they are human (Ex Machina or Twilight Zone) i enjoy both sooo much))

[sadnessunderthebridge]

AU where Steve and Eddie had gotten together before the 4th season, and then something happened in September before the Vecna stuff that cause them to break up. The only time they see each other is when Steve is picking up the party from DND.

The next time they actually get to see each other, Eddie is holding a broken bottle to Steve's throat after watching Chrissy die in front of him, and Steve is terrified because he hates seeing Eddie this terrified and he hates that he got dragged into this mess.

The next time, they really talk again is while walking though the upside-down the girls ahead of them while they awkwardly try to hold small talk because they both are too scared to admit they still love each other.

Steve is leaning over Eddie as Eddie starts the RV, then Eddie is calling Steve Big Boy, and Steve tries to hid how flustered it makes him.

Steve was telling Nacey about how he always wanted six little nuggets, but even as he looked at her, he knew that that fantasy never had her as the other person he wished to raise them with. Eddie is in the back of the RV pretending not to hear anything.

Steve watches as Eddie plays with Dustin. He can't help but smile because God he loves that man.

He can hear Eddie playing his guitar from another part of the upside-down using himself as bait. Steve has decided that if he makes it out of this he's going to get that boy back no matter what.

Steve hears Dustin screaming.

Steve is trying to stop the bleeding.

Steve is crying.

Steve refuses to leave Eddie.

Steve is by Eddie's bedside the whole time. He rights him letter for when he wakes up.

--- Sorry, I got a little out of control there anyway. This was all inspired by the song Eddie My Love by The Chordettes.

[activatebutterflyshield]

Time to be long-winded about music again featuring the Four Winds albums by the Oh Hellos. I desperately hope this one will be shorter given how bloody long the thing about Coyote Stories ended up being so to somewhat ensure that this will be split up into four separate posts, one for each album. I’m going in chronological order of release. Come one, come all, but especially @writer-of-random-things, to see me put more effort into tumblr posts than my english essays.

Part 1: Notos (you are here!)

Part 2: Eurus

Part 3: Boreas

Part 4: Zephyrus

Before even getting into the songs, let’s look at the album art. A cicada, the hallmark of summer, buzzing in chorus for a few days before dying. They are a horde, second only to their cousins the bees, wasps, and locusts, but a horde nonetheless. The cicada blindly sits underground for most of its life, growing in solitude and waiting for its cue to escape to the sunlit world, mate, and die. A cicada does not question it’s place in the universe. A cicada harbors no thoughts of doubt in its mission, and holds no grudge when it dies under the sky. But humans are not cicadas.

The first song of the album is “On the Mountain Tall”, a relatively quiet start. It’s very biblical in its symbolism and imagery, but perhaps the most important lines are when the singer calls out, “Still the wild wind blows / Up our of the grave of an angry ghost / Firing bricks from broken canon and prose / To build a wall so high it reaches the heavens in the sky”. The spelling of “canon” is not that of the instrument of warfare on the high seas, but that of generally accepted truth when it comes to creative works, as well as religions. But it is used to describe an action much more befitting the weapon, as the “wild wind” is “Firing bricks from broken canon and prose”, a metaphor for using hypocritical or untrue logic and facts to defend itself. Whomever the singer is singing to, they want the singer to fear them and love them in equal measure, but the singer doesn’t. This nebulous thing is described as being “Quiet as a candle and bright as the / morning sun”, not unlike some angelic thing from on high, and yet whoever they are, they are not “He”, who is “not within them, the clatter of / brass and drums”.

“Torches” soon follows, a quicker paced tune of a back-and-forth between two singers. Each alludes to the other, “Father Ignorance” and “Mother Fortuna”, matching up with the leading male and female vocals. Both figures are referred to by the others as making either “Brothers of us all” or “Sisters of us all” through their actions, though neither seem to be very virtuous people. “Father Ignorance” seems to feed people’s anger and fear, setting “our torch aflame” and burning someone at the stake, no matter their innocence. “Mother Fortuna” turns “shadows into shapes”, stoking paranoia and encouraging violence despite the fact that “the faces in her wake / Look more like our own than the / effigies we immolate”. Neither singer seems to be the one from “On the Mountain Tall”, as the previous song was about someone resisting the carrots and sticks offered by someone quite similar to both Ignorance and Fortuna. And yet these two beings still have power, as they sing together, “We keep that old wheel turning / Over and over, again”, maintaining the endless cycle of fear, paranoia, anger, and destruction.

The next song is an instrumental interlude, “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”. It’s a gentle tune that slowly builds into the next song, “Constellations”, but the name alone indicates that whatever stars exist far above are not real things, but rather facsimiles. Pretty things, sure, but nothing like the real, burning, blazing balls of gas that dot the night sky.

“Constellations” begins slowly, as the singer describes the sensation of speaking something that takes their voice away and feels upon their tongue like “Brick and mortar, thick as scripture / Drawing lines in the sand and laying / borders as tall as towers / I babble on until my voice is gone”. The clear and more cloudy references to the Tower of Babel and the Empire of Babylon show how the singer has been confounded and confused by that thick and choking scripture. Everything good in their life, everything good done by them and to them are “like constellations, a million years away”, no more real than those “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”. What few pieces of joy they have are no more real than the lines drawn to create “Constellations”. But by the end of the song, those good stars are “imploding in the night / Everything is turning, everything is turning / The shapes that you drew may change beneath a different light / Everything you thought you knew / Will fall apart, but you’ll be alright”. The singer has realized how much they have been smothered by thick scripture, how little they know about the world, how much they want to be free, and how they have been denied their freedom by the world they grew up with, by Father Ignorance and Mother Fortuna.

The titular “Notos” is next, starting with the singer describing the world in the moments before the clouds break and a storm crashes down. The world is holding its breath, waiting for “A thunderous disturbance”, the inevitable response to what the singer has done to those “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”. But whatever the world is expecting is not what happens, as the rush that comes “will take you away / Like you’re caught in the undertow / And you will drown in the wake / Of the things you lost to the winds of Notos”. Everything the singer has lost to the thick scripture, all that the spent in hopes that the “Constellations” of good intentions would become real, is now being repaid tenfold over. Their realization is as strong as a hurricane, as untamable as the sea, and more furious than a thunderstorm in this moment. They’re drowning Fortuna and Ignorance in “the wake / Of the things you said that you can’t take back”. It’s a beautifully poetic description of the pure, flaming anger felt by someone in the moment they realized their betrayal, but as the final line of the song says, “You gotta let go”.

The second instrumental interlude of the album is “Mandatory Evac / Counting Cars”. Finishing the wordless cry that began in “Notos”, the song is a slow, gradual build up from gentle guitar strums to the beautiful melody that has haunted the background of the rest of the album, a promising echo that reminds the listener that they’ve come quite far since the beginning of this 20-minute journey, and that they’ve still got plenty of road left to travel.

The final song of Notos is “New River”. The singer’s tune is one of gradual change, of how “though the eons may pass as slow as the sands of an hour glass / Every grain that we’ve counted / Claims that even the mountains can change”. This promise that even the most permanent parts of the landscape can slowly but surely change, that the very land itself can bend to the power of a “New River”, is a powerful metaphor for the prospective journey of the singer. They yearn to carve out a new path, to rise with the tide and bask in the “rain for forty days and nights”, to embrace the change so abhorred by the “Planetarium Stickers on a Bedroom Ceiling”, to erode away where they had once stood “On the Mountain Tall”, to extinguish the “Torches” and prove the “Constellations” to be naught but lines drawn in the sky. Within this wind of “Notos” will they rise and remake themselves anew, casting off the thick scripture and ignoring the roaring fire and wind. The fiery Southern Wind of Summer has risen and raged, tearing apart the walls of “broken canon and prose”, and as stormy Notos leaves, Eurus of Autumn and the Eastern Wind will blow in from the horizon where the sun rises, bringing cooler times and heralding yet more change as migrations begin and more questions are asked.

[kurixta]

Emmet doesn’t like change. Even if it’s for the better

[horrorslu7]

Hello! Would you mind writing a Corey Cunningham thing where the reader is jealous of Allyson? Maybe Corey and the reader were friends, reader had a crush, but then the whole movie plot happens? Maybe even a little bit of yandere tendencies on the reader's part? Idk, whatever you feel is right, but I need more fics to be of a jealous reader... Mostly because I'm so jealous of Allyson personally...

Hiii, thank you so much for requesting! I really liked your request, I think that jealousy can be a very interesting feeling to write about. I hope I made your request justice and you like it 💕

When you walk away.

Summary: You loved your best friend Corey, maybe a bit too much, so it was completely normal for you to get hurt when he left you behind for Allyson. What maybe wasn't normal was how you reacted to this.

Pairing: Corey Cunningham x fem!reader.

Trigger warnings: Murder, manipulation, stalking and yandere themes in general.

You have been friends with Corey since you two were little kids. You two lived in front of each other and went to the same school and later on same high school too.

Corey was a very shy kid but also a very cute and funny one. You talked to him first and at the beginning he was kind of shy when talking to you but he really wanted to make friends and you seemed nice, unlike all the other kids, so eventually he warmed up to you.

With time you two became best friends. Corey never had many friends, even before the accident, he tried though. People would talk to him just enough so he didn't realize they were using him to get their homework done without any effort on their end other than talking to "Corey the nerd."

It bothered you how everyone would use him and leave him and he didn't realize or care. He got so happy when others talked to him in a friendly manner, and let's not talk about how flustered he would get when other girl's would bat their eyelashes at him before asking him if he could help them with their homework.

When the second thing happened was usually when you would blow up on him and tell him that he looked like an idiot getting used by everyone and then discarded. Usually after that you would say you were sorry and that you didn't mean to hurt him but it just pained you to see him get happy about people just talking with him out of interest.

He would always say it's fine, deep down he knew you were right and he appreciated having a friend like you that would tell him the truth, but he wanted to make friends so bad he just tried to ignore the fact that you were right.

But don't take that the wrong way, he loved you too, as a friend. You were his best friend, the person he trusted the most in the world, and probably the person he loved the most in the world, even if it was platonically.

Or well, that's how it was before she came around.

You were the only person who stuck with him after the accident, the only person who loved him without expecting nothing from him but love back, you never judged him and you trusted him with your life.

And for what? He discarded you the second another woman even looked his way. How could he do that to you?

He talked to Allyson one time and all of the sudden was all "Oh sorry, can we hang out another time? I already made plans" or "I forgot we already had plans sorry, can we change them?"

At the beginning you really wanted to believe it was a one time thing and before you knew it your Corey would be back in your arms crying because she left him like everyone ever does. But you were wrong this time, for the first time.

She didn't left him, they kept on hanging out and Corey stopped texting you and reaching out to you.

He would take days to answer your texts, sometimes weeks. When you called him out on it he said he was sorry and didn't mean to, that he was just busy and forgot to text you back.

At the beginning you were angry at him, you thought this was all him leaving you for someone prettier, someone who was more interesting, someone who stole what was yours.

But eventually you realized it was her behind all of this, she probably took some notes from her psycho relative Michael Myers and lied to Corey about you so he would stop talking to you.

You would follow Corey without him knowing to know what she did for or to him that was so special to make him forget all about you. He would laugh at her stupid jokes, he would listen to her how he used to listen to you and he would look at her how he was supposed to look at you.

One day you had enough, you went to her house when you thought it was just her. Pocket knife on your hand hidden on the pocket of your jacket. She opened the door looking clueless as if she didn't know you.

"Hi, can I help you?" Allyson asked looking at you like she was trying to figure out who you were and why you looked so familiar.

"Yeah, you can help me with something actually." You said with smile on your face but before you could take the knife out Corey came from behind her with a smile which completely dropped when he saw you and the dark look hiding behind your usually kind eyes.

"What are you doing here?" He asked moving Allyson out of the way softly before stepping out of the house making you take a few steps back.

"I just came here to talk to Allyson, I didn't know you were here." You said letting go of the knife and taking your hands out of your pockets.

Corey put a hand on your shoulder leading you out of the porch before telling you to please leave the two of them alone, and that you two could hang out another time if you stopped being so persistent.

That day was the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him. You still stalked him though but didn't text him as much. You knew that she will leave him eventually and he would come back.

And he did. He went months without hanging out with you, centering his whole attention on Allyson. You wanted to throw up everytime you thought about them together but somehow you couldn't stop doing so, praying that soon you would take her place.

Eventually she did leave him. It was past midnight and you were in your living room trying to concentrate on the movie that was on, when you heard desperate knocking at the door. You went to see who it was and you couldn't help but feel surprised by seeing Corey on the other side of the door.

You let out a scoff before opening. "What happened? Did your nurse girlfriend not open her door?" You asked, deep down you were aching to touch him and check if he was okay, you wanted to know who did this but he had to learn to never leave you again.

"Can I come in please? I'll tell you everything." He said looking at you with those big puppy eyes. You let him in and he made his way to your bedroom.

You went after him, grabbing the first aid box on the way. He sat on your bed while you sat next to him making him look at you while you tried to cure him.

"I'm sorry I left you." Your hand stopped moving and your eyes looked him at his instantly, your whole attention being centered on his apology that you been waiting for for a very long time. "You were right, like you always are."

A few tears rolled down his eyes and you wiped his tears with your soft fingers. "I should've never left you behind." For a few seconds you caressed his face slowly just to make sure you weren't hallucinating all of this. "I will never do that again, I promise."

His hands went to rest on top of yours before he left a sweet kiss on one of your hands. You couldn't help it anymore and you hugged him as intensely as you could without hurting him. He hugged you back caressing your hair.

"If you ever do that to me again I will kill you." You said letting out a few tears, it felt so good to have him back. "I missed you so much."

"I did too." He partially broke the hug putting his hands on your face making you look at him. "Do you wanna leave this town with me?"

It seemed very out of pocket, Corey looked and acted very different since the last time you two hang out but you always wanted to move with him somewhere far far away from here, and you wouldn't miss on the opportunity now.

"Yes!" You said smiling, he smiled back at you before kissing you. It felt as if fireworks were exploding on your head, you gladly kissed him back.

You weren't entirely sure of what happened to Corey on this time you two didn't talk but you loved this new Corey. This new Corey left you yes but, when he came back he made all of your dreams came true on the same night.

You couldn't be mad at him for long anyways so why not forgive him now and just enjoy this new beginning.

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

el tejano - habbey oneshot

(this is inspired the song el tejano by lauv and sofia reyes (which i recommend). you don't really need to know the song/lyrics to read it, but it would probably give context for certain details.)

The grating sound of a creaky window being opened filled the dorm room, replacing the sound of Deuce aggressively typing up an essay that was due later that week. He didn’t look up, as he knew it was his closest companion, sneaking through the window. Was there even a curfew on weekends? No, but what Heath didn’t know wouldn’t hurt. 

Heath climbed into the room and threw himself down on his roommate’s bed, sighing dramatically. Deuce kept his eyes on his laptop and paid him no mind. Heath sat up and sighed even louder, which sounded more like a strangled scream.

Deuce chuckled to himself and rolled his desk chair towards the bed. He reached out to stop the chair from hitting the footboard and smiled at his best friend.

“Well, someone sure wants my attention,” Deuce said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Ask me how my day was!” Heath kicked off his shoes and brought his legs up to sit cross-legged. 

“And you can’t just tell me, because…?”

“Because…suspense,” Deuce rolled his eyes, “and because no one else asked how my day was going the entire time I was out,” Heath said with a slight pout.

“Fine,” Deuce turned around to sit backward in his chair and crossed his arms over the back, “How was your day, Heath?”

Heath flailed his hands in excitement, “Great question!” Deuce held back a laugh, “I went to the park, made friends with some zombie dogs, and saw a flyer for this new nightclub place for teens. I went because, duh, and it was decorated to have this beachy vibe and I love the beach.”

Deuce nodded along, “Mhm…”

“And I stayed there for the rest of the night. but, there’s more!” Heath clapped his hands together. 

“How can there be more if you stayed there all night?” 

“I met a girl! I, Heath Burns, met a girl!” 

“Huh, good for you, man,” Deuce pushed himself off the bed and attempted to keep writing his paper.

“Wait, wait, I gotta tell you all about it,” Heath climbed off the bed and headed towards his side of the room, just barely saving himself from tripping over his sneakers. 

“Fine, but I gotta finish this,” Deuce gestured to his open document, “I promise I’m listening, go ahead.”

Heath plopped down into his own desk chair, “So you know Nirvana right? That human band?” Deuce hummed and nodded. “Apparently, there are Spanish covers of their songs, which is a sentence I never thought I’d say, but they were, like, the majority of the playlist.”

Deuce furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Heath, “Nirvana of all bands has multiple covers in Spanish?” 

“Yuh, and me and the girl just danced to them and talked all night. What did we talk about?” Heath didn’t wait for Deuce to answer, “Great question”.

Deuce chuckled to himself as he finished a paragraph. 

“I learned a lot about her, like, she’s from the Himalayas, and she actually knows some of the same people we do. She knows Cleo and Lagoona and even Clawdeen, isn’t that so interesting?” Deuce nodded absentmindedly. “She even asked me if I watched that human show, um…” Heath searched his brain for the title, “Friends! That’s it!” 

“Oh, that show about the six friends in the coffee shop or whatever?” Deuce leaned back in his chair looking over his last couple of paragraphs. 

“Yeah! I told her that Phoebe was probably my favorite character so far.”

“The blonde one?” Deuce asked.

“Mhm, and she actually agreed with me and we laughed and laughed.”

“How did you of all people, no offense, get a girl to talk to you and dance with you? For such a long period of time?” Deuce started a new paragraph and slightly laughed at the idea of Heath fumbling over his words trying to ask a girl to dance.

“Well actually, you jerk, she came up to me. I had just ordered some salsa for my chips, I had chips, I didn’t think it was important to mention, and she walked up to me. She asked if she could sit with me and try some of my food.”

“And you let her, because only you would share your food with an absolute stranger,” Deuce said, saying the last part under his breath.

“I heard that, and yes, I did. She sat down and asked me if the salsa was mild. I stupidly said that it was hotter than mild because I thought it would impress her but turns out she has problems with hot food. Deuce, I almost scared her away!”

Deuce couldn’t keep his laughs quiet anymore and let a loud guffaw leave his mouth, “See, this is why I didn’t believe that you were able to keep her interested enough to dance with you.” 

“Rude, but I quickly took it back and said it was a joke. She stayed, thank gods, and then one of the Nirvana covers came on, she pulled me to the dance floor, I, of course, had to keep my fire under control, and the rest is the greatest love story to ever take place.”

“Sounds like an amazing night, Heath. What was her name?” Deuce finished up his final paragraph and hit save. Should he have proofread it? Sure, but he might as well give the end of Heath’s story his full attention.

“Yeah...about that, once the club got closer to closing time, she left pretty quickly, and I never…actually caught her name…” 

Deuce stopped moving. He did not hear that right, he couldn't have, “You don't,” Deuce closed his eyes in preparation for disappointment, “know her name?” 

“No, I do not,” Deuce could practically hear the sheepish look Heath had on his face as he spoke. 

Deuce did a sharp inhale and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I mean this in the nicest way possible, dude, you're hopeless.” 

“Yeah, I know. But what matters is that she seemed to be having fun and I know I had fun,” Heath got out of his chair and started to change into his pajamas. “That’s a win in my book.” 

“A win is a win,” Deuce reluctantly said. 

Heath finished getting dressed and sprawled out on his bed, “I wonder if she’s thinking about me right now.”

“Maybe, Heath, maybe.”

On the other side of the school was a blue-skinned girl and her friends gathered in a circle. Giggles left the friends’ mouths as the girl spoke.

“He assured me that the salsa wasn’t actually that hot and so I tried it, it was really good, and we just hit it off right away,” it was hard for Abbey to keep her excitement in check as she recounted the story of the boy she had met that night. 

“And then what happened?” Lagoona chirped.

“Then the music changed and I dragged him to the dance floor,” Abbey took a second to chuckle to herself, “He was such a bad dancer,” another chuckle fell from her lips.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ghoulia reached a hand to Abbey’s knee in comfort.

“No, no, it was endearing. I loved how bad he was at dancing because he knew he was bad but he was so confident about it. It made me laugh.”

Ghoulia hummed and took her hand away. 

“Ya know, orange skin, red hair, I think I know the guy you’re talking about,” Cleo, who had been trying to act like she didn’t think Abbey’s story was absolutely adorable, finally chimed in to the conversation, “What was his name again?”

“Oh, I never actually asked for it. I didn’t tell him mine either. Guess that wasn’t my smartest move,” Abbey said, giggling to herself. 

“You utter fool,” Cleo reprimanded her but couldn’t stay mad at her very happy friend. 

“Yeah, I know. But I had so much fun, guys, and I think he did too. I swear I saw his hair become fire for a second when we were dancing.” 

Cleo definitely knew who the guy was by now but she held her words. Why ruin the moment by letting everyone know that Abbey was dancing with Cleo’s ex’s best friend? Besides, it was bound to be funny when the two would inevitably run into each other when classes started in a couple days.

[antihibikase-archive]

[ "Who are you?" ] 

 [ "My name? It's..." ] 

 [ "..." ] 

 [ "...who am I?" ]

[myrkkymato]

"How am I still here?"

Lightly inspired by "live fast die young" by hollywood undead, markers on A3 paper

[iamyounicorn]

thinking about this bcause I was listening to their live album but. god. imagine you're a band whose songs are all about being young and carefree and in love. and then one of your band members dies of a heart attack in between shows while only in his mid 30s. so you release his favorite song out of your upcoming album: a song about still having your whole life ahead of you.

[astranauticus]

oh i absolutely gave myself way too much of a workload this semester but holy shit i finally have like... about 80% of that orv changgwi animatic down in concept and i am. cartoon villain cackling

[martianbugsbunny]

Baby While You're At It (A Cherik Fic)

Well my dears I am now laughing at my past self and calling them a bloody fool bc they swore up and down they were not going to get involved with writing Cherik, not with so many other ships/fics already languishing in WIP hell, but it's happened. I've written my first Cherik fic and I'm no longer annoyed at the idea that it might not be my last.

I was listening to a Jessie Murph song and I was like "Hm, this kinda gives Cherik" and I picked the bits I thought were the most Cherik and used those as inspiration for the fic. Definitely favored loyalty to the characters over the song, don't worry! I would recommend giving it a listen because I absotutely-lutely love it, but first I would recommend reading the fic because it turned out splendid and I adore it. Read on and enjoy!

Two weeks, was that all it had been? Charles stared at the calendar, wishing it would tell him it was all a mistake and they were launching for Cuba tomorrow; that he had dreamed up everything that had happened since then—but he knew each one of those fourteen days really had passed because he had counted each of them. Day One without Erik. Day Two without Erik. Day Five. Day Nine.

Day Fourteen.

He felt as though he had aged ten years in that short span of time. Beneath his eyes were dark, bruise-colored circles, as though his body was beating him up for how little he slept.

How could he sleep, when every time he closed his eyes he was back on the beach? He could feel the grit of the sand beneath his head as he fell, then the stiff material of…gloves, as he was lifted halfway up and cradled within the confines of strong arms. The scent of the salt air; the taste of fear; the compressing of his lungs as he realized who was responsible for the pain in his spine and the even worse lurching of his heart as he realized that same person was going to cause him worse pain yet.

Charles exhaled, his breath still shaking as though he were lying in agony on the sand, and went to join Hank in the kitchen for breakfast.

Hank, a strong contrast to Charles’ often dark mood, seemed happier than usual. He handed Charles the carton of orange juice and slid a small vial across the table with it. “I’ve developed a sort of antiserum,” he said. “To the one I made from Mystique’s DNA. It allows me to control my mutation.”

Oh, yes. That was the other difference: Hank was also a lot less blue than usual. “It’s a very interesting formula, I thought you might want to know,” Hank said.

Charles picked up the glass tube and shook it idly. The fluid inside looked unremarkable, but if it could manipulate Hank’s genetic code, interesting was an understatement.

Hank glanced at him warily, then set down his spoon and folded his hands. “I’m supposed to remind you we’re having a sort of welcoming party for the soon-to-be teachers? Tonight?”

Charles leaned back in his chair, sighing. He liked a lot of the people who had signed on to help with the school, but the ghost of…the past was following him around so closely he barely had room for his own shadow, much less a houseful of guests.

But he wasn’t going to cancel. Hank deserved to have time with his friends, and Charles could always disappear and leave them to their fun if he needed to. “We’ve got enough food?”

“Plenty.”

“Alright then, just—make sure nobody breaks anything.” He had seen what it was like when young mutants got together before, and he didn’t particularly want his house to end up like their former CIA facility had.

Charles managed to get through the rest of the day without too much trouble; he didn’t retreat to his study for booze as he often found himself doing, and he went outside for a while to get some fresh air. Maybe having friends around wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Maybe they could push those ghosts away.

Alex Summers was the first to show up; he brought with him a smile that lit up the corners of the house. He had changed a lot since Charles had first recruited him, going from definitively bitter to being brilliant and full of life.

Charles shook the thought away that he had had a nearly opposite transition.

Another half hour later the future teachers had all arrived. Charles noticed the way Alex’s bright smile changed into something infinitely softer when Sean Cassidy arrived, and felt a brief stab of that horrible bitterness when Sean went to greet Alex first, their embrace a lingering one that left the entire room giving each other knowing glances.

Charles was just about fed up already and he hadn’t even said hello to everyone yet. He cast a pleading look at Hank: How much longer do I have to stay? It was, after all, his school, his idea, that had gathered all of these people together, and detached as he felt from the rest of them he didn’t want to make enemies of them.

Hank crossed the room and sat down on the sofa, next to which Charles had parked his wheelchair. “Fifteen minutes,” he said quietly, squeezing Charles’ hand. He understood, to the extent that anyone could, because he had spent the intervening weeks between Cuba and now at Charles’ side.

“Fifteen and I’m out,” Charles answered tersely. Hank gave him a sympathetic smile and then went back across the room to get something to eat.

Fourteen minutes later the front door opened again, eerily silent, and the room went still. Alex moved to stand more-or-less in front of Sean, who gripped his wrist reassuringly.

Charles bit back a curse when Erik Lehnsherr walked through the door. It closed behind him, swinging noiselessly on its metal hinges. Erik’s eyes lighted on Charles instantly, and an emotion started filling Charles’ chest that felt like the sting of bile in the throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his voice clipped.

“I came to see you.” Erik glanced around the room—it was definitely hostile. Hank had reverted into his blue form. “Perhaps we could move to somewhere less public?”

“You’ll shoot me in the back in front of these people but you won’t speak to me while they’re present?” Charles could hear the hysteria bubbling up in his voice and felt powerless to stop it. Every beat of his heart as it limped on screamed Erik—Erik—Erik and yet he was furious with the man. Furious at being wounded, furious at being left, furious most of all that Erik’s heart was probably pounding stronger than ever without Charles chasing two steps behind. He had some nerve to show up uninvited with that handsome half-smile so typical of him and just expect that Charles would chase after him again.

….Mostly because he was absolutely right. Charles would never be able to resist the pull of that grin; it drew him to Erik as magnetism drew metal to him, irresistibly and almost inevitably leading to disaster, even while Charles felt a blue-hot searing fury with himself for crumbling so easily.

“Fine,” he spat. “You all go on with your party. I will be back soon.”

He had longed to escape just moments ago and yet he dreaded the loss of backup as he led Erik into the kitchen, several hallways removed from the living room where the others were no doubt starting to whisper about why Magneto was here.

Charles stopped his chair next to the table, turning it to face Erik. “What do you want?” he asked.

Erik wasn’t foolish enough to sit down. Their conversation was far from being that casual. “I wanted to see you,” he said. “To—to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh, now you want me to be alright? Now? After everything you did to me?” There was that hysterical sound again. This time, Charles tried to bite it back—it and the tears that were building in his eyes.

“It was Moira’s fault,” Erik said. “Imagine being stupid enough to shoot at a man who can control metal.”

“You certainly had no problem controlling that bullet into my spine,” Charles said.

Erik stepped back as though Charles had physically slapped him in the face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It had been Erik’s strong, gentle, desperate arms that had cradled him after the accident, Charles reminded himself. It was an accident, after all, no matter how much Charles wanted to place blame on a single person and push that person away to alleviate his grief. Erik had caused him pain, but he had also held him, eyes devastated, hands straining with rage.

“And yet you always do,” Charles said. “I left that beach less than I was before. Not because of the injury, but because I had to leave without you.”

Erik said nothing, staring at Charles expressionlessly.

He couldn’t help laughing now, one hand going up to brush his hair roughly back from his face. “Why don’t you just rip my heart out of my chest while you’re at it? It would be easier to handle than knowing that it wasn’t love you felt for me. What was it, pity? Contempt?”

Finally Erik moved again, kneeling in front of Charles and covering one of Charles’ hands with his own. “I loved you then and I love you still,” he said, his voice hushed but more intense than Charles had heard him except in the heat of battle, or a fit of temper. “Why do you think I came all this way?”

Charles let the gathered tears fall, only for Erik to brush them away. “I regret little that I’ve done in my life,” Erik said. “It’s all been for a reason, a cause. But hurting you, no matter that it was an accident…that I do regret. Every night I hear your cries, see your tears, and it’s been eating at me.”

“No matter how bad you have it, I’ve got it worse,” Charles said, the break in his voice betraying his attempt at coldness. “You think the memories you left me with after that beach haven’t been gnawing on me like maggots on so much rotting meat?” There was more Charles wanted to say, but he stopped. “You’re not wearing your helmet,” he realized. He reached over and ran his fingers through Erik’s hair. It was longer already than it had been two weeks ago. “Why—?”

“I wasn’t sure you would believe me,” Erik said. “If I’d the worn the helmet, you would’ve said…”

“I would’ve said you were a liar,” Charles finished. “Because it’s easier to love a liar who’s laughing behind your back than to love someone who loves you back, if he’s hurt you.”

Erik nodded. This time, Charles caught the flicker of remorse in his eyes, deep-seated and powerful. “You know what, Erik? I don’t expect you stay with me. You’re too set in your convictions for that. But we’re done hurting each other—I want better than that for us.”

“Charles, I swore the moment I held you in my arms on that beach that I would never harm you again.” Erik’s eyes were as serious as they were only when he was talking about the mutant cause. It wasn’t about Erik’s intentions, though; Charles had meant it as a promise, as a forgiveness, as a bandage for the barbed-wire words he had already pushed into Erik’s heart.

“And no, I won’t stay, but I’m not leaving you,” Erik said. That, too, was a promise. An apology. “My heart and soul are with yours, wherever I go.”

True to his word, Erik didn’t stay. That night was all they had. This time, it was Charles who held Erik in his arms, Erik’s head pillowed on his chest, one hand curled around Erik’s jaw so Charles could feel the pulse in his neck. Erik slept, and peacefully; Charles didn’t.

There would be time for that later. He wouldn’t have Erik to have and to hold forever, and he didn’t want to waste a moment, but he didn’t begrudge Erik what he knew was one of few truly restful sleeps in his entire life.

Early the next morning, Charles sat on the porch, watching the dawn light up the sky in pale shades of lavender and pink over the still-dewy lawn. In the trees, birds were already singing, and a spider was busy in its web on a bush next to the railing.

It didn’t hurt so much to watch Erik go, his cape rippling like water behind him as he walked down the driveway, with the warmth of his kiss goodbye still lingering in Charles’ heart and on his cheek.

[ventussolder]

Something something spamton sneaks the new lightner into one of queens parties to show off with a song number b4 they get busted and have 2 leave