Fanfic About The Scene Of Erik Killing Shawn On The Beach, With Any Consequences For Charles - Angst,

horniest battle moments:

- taking your ally's weapon out of their scabard to use yourself

- using someone else's shoulder as a rifle stand

- nudging someone's chin up with the tip of your weapon

- freezing with your blades against one another's throats, breathing into each other's mouths

So now I need a fic where Erik says Angel and means it. He then gently pulls Charles closer and kisses him on the forehead, saying angel again.

He embraces him, tucks Charles' face into his shoulder, as though to keep him safe and hidden and protected from the world and everything in it.

He buries his face in Charles' hair while murmuring Charles' name and endearments (angel, liebling, that sort of thing).

It fades out on the two of them wrapped around each other, crying softly, holding onto each other for dear life, swaying ever so slightly, just being there together, because they're both so tired and hurting and alone and they are each the only thing that can make the other whole.

Logan is just in the background blue-screening, because this honestly just explains so, so many things.

Honestly one of the cruelest things Erik did to Charles was pause after saying Angel. You can see the anger fade immediately, he thinks for a moment that Erik is meeting him with love and gentleness. It anchors him, he stops to really look at him. Eyes to lips. For a moment he thought Erik called him Angel.

And he’s throughly confused why Erik is listing names after. I’m going to be sick.

When I'm liking your vent post just know that I'm kneeling with my sword to offer you support.

Tell you what I need? I need some more public perspective and outsider POV of the clone wars.

I want fail compilations and highlight reels. Deep dive analysis of certain battles and videos on the Top Ten Things We Still Dont Know About The Jedi.

Give me the girls who hang pictures of Jedi on their wall and play kiss-marry-kill with the seperatists.

Give me the boys of the street swapping homemade trading cards and daring each other to try touch the troopers as they pass.

I want to hear from my Mrs. Anakin Skywalker’s on their religiously run fan page. Who organise weekend trips to coruscant with their online friends to see the Temple in person.

I want Jedi-sonas and unofficial Jedi merch. Different coloured wristbands to signify which is your favourite legion. Fanart and problematic ships.

People camping outside the temple gates waiting to try catch a glimpse of their favourite Jedi.

Zealous fans sneaking into the temple by stowing away on service craft and vlogging it for their ThySpace channel.

Why can’t I see the conspiracy theories with hour long rants shot on a portrait datapad camera, proving that the Jedi are all actors and the force just special effects.

Where are my stylised Jedi robes worn by high-end fashion events. The holonet trends and challenges.

Where are my doomsday protesters who the Jedi are devil worshipers, and then the cult that think they are gods.

Late night talk show hosts giving professional sounding and wildly misinformed opinions on a war they aren’t qualified to give opinions on.

The woman who swears she is secretly married to a Jedi appearing on space Dr. Phil.

Kids watching shaking camera footage of battles in the back of a class room and fighting each other with lightsaber sticks in the yard.

Where are my clone look-a-like contest and stolen armour used to try sneak onto ships.

I want long lost family members who gave up their kid to the Jedi suddenly appearing on talk shows for their five minutes of fame.

I want the public grieving when a favourite general dies, and the memorials in the streets. The worry when a Jedi hasn’t been spotted in a while.

Daredevils with broken arms from where they try to replicate famous moves pulled by Jedi. The press release from the temple when one dies in the process.

Hushed tales told by grizzled men in smokey bars, whiskey shots pushed into shakey hands as they recount the time they saw Skywalker in person, a supernova behind his eyes and blood staining his bared teeth.

I want the fear, the awe, the obsession and the outrage.

GIMME. PUBLIC. OUTSIDER. POV.

REBLOG THIS TO GIVE THE PERSON YOU REBLOGGED THIS FROM A GOLD STAR BECAUSE THEY’VE BEEN STELLAR TODAY AND THEY DESERVE IT ⭐️

i've said before that i love the english teacher jason todd headcanon but a similar one i think is very much overlooked is art teacher damian. in fact, i don't think i've ever seen it before. but i think it would be AWESOME hahaha

Damian: *carrying a large box* occasionally, my own sophisticated vernacular does not do justice to a situation . . . so to paraphrase one of my students . . . this sucks ass Jon: *grabs box, then raises brows* i was going to tease you for that . . . but yeah. this thing is freakin' heavy. what is this??? damian: *looking EXTREMELY tired* clay. for my students to make . . . sculputes out of. jon: *weary* why the hesitation? damian: more often than not their sculptures are more bomb than sculpture. jon: . . . ah. how does that work exactly? damian: *staring into the distance* now why would i trust you with the knowledge of how to make a bomb, jonathan.

Damian: welcome to class, students. today we will be participating in one of my personal favorite mediums, painting student: what do we paint? damian: anything but batman. i know you enjoy memorializing vigilantes in your art, but he angered me last night and as such the sight of him would sicken me students: one brave soul: what did he do? daminan: *straight-faced* he ate the last of the peanut butter in the pantry and failed to buy a new jar. now, for the paintings--

jason: *groaning, head resting on the papers strewn over his table* god, my students are so dumb damian: *framing and hanging up art pieces gifted to him by his students* i cannot say i relate, todd jason: *under his breath* fuck you too

damian: *peering over jason's shoudler at grading jason is doing* what is all this? the red marker? jason: *chugging coffee like its a shot* mistakes i have to correct for them damian: *frowns* that is a lot of mistakes. jason: how 'bout you? how'd your students do on their assignment? damian: well, jenn forgot that we'd moved on from abstracts, so her landscape appears as if it has stepped foot out of a picasso rather than the monet it should have been, but i have graded her with the abstract scale rather than the realism given that it was a simple mistake. her usage of tones and textures impressed me, and while the expressionism and irrealism is slightly off-putting in a landscape, i have found it quite pleasing to the eye. jason: i have no fucking clue what you just said but okay

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absolutely obsessed with Jason and Tim being the family psychologists that spend 90% of their time together just getting into long debates and discussions about the personalities and mental issues of everybody in the family. they will meet up at Jason’s apartment twice a week for takeout and a 2 hour conversation on how Damian might be so obsessed with the Robin mantle because the dynamics of the league make him think that family should be a business and if he cant work as a vigilante he’ll be abandoned. every stakeout they do together ends up with them getting distracted talking about Dick and his obsession with red heads. they’ve let multiple people go during these stakeouts bcs they’ve gotten side tracked when they then start discussing if Jason’s childhood issues and strained relationship with Dick somehow influenced HIM to befriending Dick’s old pals so often, and they get so fascinatingly into it that the guy they were waiting for just. slipped right by them.

nothing is off limits between these two when they start talking about mental health and family issues. they’ll compare Tim’s abandonment-independence from the Drakes to Jason’s caretaker habits from his dug addicted mother. there have been 3 hour phone call conversations about the loa and how it fucked with Jason’s perception of Bruce that then get turned into 4 hour face to face discussions about how Tim’s opinion of Bruce rapidly declined because of Jason’s death and how he handled it. they rehash how Bruce has effected every single bat child about 12 times and they still never get tired of it.

it’s not even about therapy or coming to terms with trauma. these two bitches just love dissecting family drama and psychology within the Waynes. every now and then during dinner somebody will make a fairly casual remark that has nothing to do with anything and Jason and Tim will make eye contact across the table because they KNOW they’ll be tearing that apart at a later date. what I’m saying is english-enthusiast Jason Todd and stalker-genius Timothy Drake are 100% the gossip scientists of the family, and the Waynes are their lab rats being observed for their own entertainment

Cody's just about to drift off, warm and a little sticky, when his comm chirps. He considers ignoring it even as he rolls over in the bunk, fumbling one-handed for the buzzing device.

It's nothing urgent - a partial conversation between Wolffe and Bly that he's being looped in on, rather unnecessarily in his opinion.

cc-3636 just because youve got a Fucking Boner for your jedi cc-3636 speaking of havent heard from codes since his new assignment cc-5052 oh yea cc-5052 hey cc-2224 hows your new general

He gets halfway through typing He's decent enough when Kenobi wakes up and drapes himself over Cody's shoulder, chest hair rubbing pleasantly across his bare back.

"I only rate decent?" his general murmurs, amusement curling in his voice. He looks thoroughly indecent, mouth red and bruised, hair mussed, hickeys dotting his throat.

Cody deletes it and sends He's acceptable instead.

Kenobi laughs. "Come back to sleep, my dear," he says, snuggling his nose into Cody's neck. Without bothering to open Wolffe's message - that bad huh ? - Cody allows himself to be rolled over and tucked against his general's front.

He'll deal with the command crew later. Right now they've got four hours before they need to be Marshal Commander or High General of anything, and Cody's all set to spend it sleeping in the arms of a beautiful, terrible, wondrous man.

oh mood

see the THING IS I don't feel like I ever worked hard enough to have "earned" the burnout, which is. probably how we got here.