Witch’s Name- Finding Yours With Numerology & The Planets

Anthony Mackie. Reblog if you agree.

Slumber Party

Pairing: Loki x reader

Word Count: 813

Summary: Loki interrupts your slumber party with the girls then decides he wants to have one himself.

Author’s Note: This is for the continuation of the HBC’s @the-th-horniest-book-club​ drunk drabbles and the super fun prompt below sent in by the lovely @prunes-said-bucky​ I like writing Loki soft and always a bit sassy and mischievous  Hope you enjoy and thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: FLUFFY FUN AND SOFTNESS! :) 

Loki follows the sound of raucous laughter to the door of your room. He hears your voice rise above the others in a squeal and then something like a loud thud. Becoming nervous he knocks before throwing the door open. You, Nat, Wanda and Hope all stop dead in your tracks and stare at him.

Keep reading

I am Pagan, but I still consider Muslims to be my brothers and sisters.

Muslim brothers and sisters

So I found this app called Scan Halal where you scan the bar code of your food and it tells you if its halal or not. It’s a free app too. Pass this on so others can see and worry a little less about their food/snack choices

Old players with all the gear vs new players with nothing

I actually cried.

a comic about someone who gets a visit from the reaper a bit sooner than expected, but has someone whos been waiting for them 

Hey, do you like my art? Help support me and buy me a coffee! ko-fi.com/zipper ❤️

Summary: "If we can go one week with no lies, then we will go on a field trip, only the winners, of course."

That was Charles' idea...to be completely honest, Charles only made this bet so Erik would flirt with him...Charles' plan was working out to be spectacularly terrible.

There had been a bet going around the school, among the staff, mainly. Charles had been preaching the importance of honesty and transparency, but he quickly realized that his colleagues needed more incentive.

"If we can go one week with no lies, then we will go on a field trip, only the winners, of course."

That was Charles' idea and so far, it was quite fun. To be completely honest, Charles only made this bet so Erik would flirt with him -unintentionally, mind you. Two days in, and Charles' plan was working out to be spectacularly terrible. Erik was seemingly avoiding Charles, which was a valid strategy, but still.

Charles had walked into the lounge room, hoping to catch Erik and a cup of coffee. Erik was indeed there, likely on his way out of the lounge. Erik wore that borderline sinful black turtleneck along with a tight pair of pants.

"Erik, fancy a game of chess during our 30 minute break?"

Erik had finally taken note of Charles' presence and became extremely nervous for some godforesaken reason. Erik knew the reason: he likes Charles, it's as simple as that. He loves those piercing blue eyes, the kind smile, the soft, untouched hands of Charles Xavier. He won't deny it... okay, well, maybe he will. Everyone seems to know this fact besides Charles. 

" I would love to Charles but I have tests to grade," he said with an obviously fake smile. Technically, that wasn't a lie; Erik would love to play a game with Charles and he did have tests to grade. Charles sighed, "oh, I see...well, perhaps next time then." Erik gave a genuine smile this time.

"Perhaps." On the way out, he brushed past Charles, both of their faces reddening madly. Oh, if only they could see each other from an outsider's perspective. They are so obviously in love even a blind man could see it and a deaf girl could hear it.

***

Charles was walking down one of the school's many corridors, in search of one Erik Lehnsherr.

"Charles," Raven spoke from behind him. "Yes?" He queried, turning to see her. "Have you seen Hank?" So Raven had the same idea as Charles it seems.

"That depends, have you seen Erik?"

"Ooh, are you trying to seduce him or something?"

"I won't tell if you won't."

"Deal, Erik is by the fountain reading."

"Lovely, Hank is in the tennis court."

Charles immediately turned around and began pacing to his destination. 'Of course Erik was reading' Charles thought to himself. He strolled over to one of the many exits of the building.  Charles wandered lost in thought . Maybe I'll have a romantic moment with Erik by the fountain, like in all of those Rom-coms that Raven keeps telling me about. Maybe we could be like Bella and Edward—less cliche of course... Unbeknownst to Charles, he was about to walk face first into his Edward. This realization came with the audible thud of Charles' face colliding with the muscly chest of Erik, Erik's book now on the floor as a result.   Charles looked up to find a very flustered Erik—not that Erik looked flustered, but the bar of flustered for the (usually stoic) Erik is very low. 

"Erik, hello again.  Sorry, let me-"

Charles bent down at the exact same time Erik did.  Their foreheads met with a (less audible, but still) very painful thud, sending both men backwards on their asses. 

"Fuck" Erik muttered.  Erik looked up to see Charles: his legs bent upward and nearly sprawled out with his hand against his forehead.  For some reason (again, Erik knew the reason), Charles seemed to be the most captivating creature on earth, far more interesting than Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere.  Charles had looked up about four seconds before Erik realized he was staring.  Erik's eyes quickly darted away from Charles' strikingly blue ones.  "Well, I had been meaning to run into you, but this was not what I had in mind." Erik chuckled at this.

"I would hope." Charles smiled at Erik.  On the outside, Erik simply sat in nearly the exact position of Charles, mouth slightly open but still with a calm demeanor.  On the inside it sounded more like this:

Holy shit, Charles' eyes are piercing through my fucking soul.  If we were back in about 400 b.c I would think this man is Jesus and confess my sins to him...

"Well, Jesus was actually brown—likely with dark eyes. He was born in Nazareth, which was in the Middle East.  The only reason we think Jesus is white is because DaVinci was commissioned to paint a picture of Jesus.  He, of course, modeled it after his boyfriend at the time." Erik was hit with an abrupt sense of confusion.

"Hey-"

"I can't help if your thoughts are loud, Erik!"

"Right..."

Erik and Charles sat in the same spot, simply staring into each other's eyes for an unreasonable amount of time.

"Would you like to go back to the fountain?" Charles propositioned with a tint of uneasiness.

"S-Sure, Charles" Erik babbled.  Charles' own name falling off of Erik's lips hit him like a freight train.

Fuck, I wish I could hear that more... "Need a hand, Schatz?" Charles looked up to see Erik standing above him, hand outstretched.  Charles grasped Erik's hand and found that Erik pulled him up much harder than Charles pulled Erik down. This resulted in both men's faces being much closer than platonic allowed.  Erik quickly turned to the side, a very subtle blush dusting his cheeks.  For a split second, Charles could feel Erik's breath on his lips, Erik's slight stubble scraping against his chin, Erik's cologne filling his nostrils. Charles was going to ride this high for months.

"C'mon, let's go" Erik spoke with a hint of nervousness. Charles, still spaced out and on cloud nine, mindlessly followed Erik to the fountain.

***

"And then he sees door..." Charles was sitting on the fountain next to Erik, listening to him go on a passionate tangent about the book he had been reading.  Listening is a bit generous though, rather, Erik's words were hitting Charles like water across a creek floor.  "And then-"

"Erik?" Charles asked, creating an abrupt end to Erik's sentence.

"Charles?" he mimicked.

"What do you think about my eyes?"

"What?" Erik panicked internally.

"You keep thinking about them."

"I-" Erik took a moment to compose himself, trying to calculate the weight of his words.

"Your eyes are...beautiful" Vorefreud his mind was screaming.

"What does that mean Erik? 'vorefreud'?" Erik's cheeks reddened.

"Uhm...it uh, it means..." Erik closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, his eyes now meeting Charles'.

"Vorefreud pretty much means the pleasure of waiting for something pleasurable."

"And why do my eyes bring that word to mind?" Charles said with a grin that he simply couldn't hide. Erik was silent, his eyes never leaving Charles'.  Erik slowly lurched closer to Charles, his left hand coming up to Charles clean-shaven jawline and his right coming to rest atop Charles' hand on the smooth stone of the fountain.

And just like that, Erik was kissing Charles and Charles was kissing Erik. Both men felt this heavy weight suddenly lift off of their shoulders.  The pining, the sexual tension, the unspoken feelings, all of that was paying off.  Erik noted that Charles' lips were unreasonably soft, and Charles found that Erik's lips were slightly chapped.  The kiss was not ravenous, rather a soft, passionate, admission of love.  Charles brought his hands up to Erik's sides, his thumbs slowly moving up and down against Erik's sweater.  Erik pulled away, but not before hitting Charles' bottom lip and dragging his teeth across it.  At this, Charles let out a sharp gasp, his eyes pointedly meeting Charles. 

Erik looked passionately exasperated, eyes boring into Charles.  Charles brought one of his hands up to touch his lips, rubbing across the part Erik had just bit.  Erik smiled at this, the widest smile Charles has ever seen from him. A slight chuckle escaped his lips. The urge to, once again, kiss Erik washed over Charles, who decided to listen to it.  He lunged forward, one hand clasped itself against the underside of Erik's chin and the other flew to the back of Erik's head, roughly gripping his hair. 

Erik cursed against Charles' mouth and kissed back, this time ravenously. Erik's hands found Charles' back, his arms looping underneath Charles'.  Erik nibbled on Charles' bottom lip, this time, making him groan.  Erik took this as an opening and gracefully slid his tongue into Charles' mouth.  This kiss was no longer an admission of their feelings, but now a declaration, an announcement.  Charles now pulled away, his forehead resting against Eriks'. 

"Erik," Charles softly spoke.

"Charles," Erik said with an audible smile.

"I'm glad you think so loudly."

"Me too."

WC: 1482

A/N: Thanks for reading, babes!

today’s gender of the day is unfortunate time loop accidents

Scott: What do we have today... Hmmm, Charles, Charles, Charles, Charles, Logan, Charles, Erik, Charles and Charles.

Kurt: Is that your date list?

Logan: *Splits drink*

Charles: I beg your pardon, Enderman, but I am mentally flirting with Erik at the moment. So I am

T a k e n.

Prompt: "Do you plan on kissing me, or just staring at my lips like they're your dinner?"

Summary: just the gay mutant road trip. This is mostly a Drabble.

Charles lay sprawled out on the couch, headache buzzing at the back of his mind. Recruitment today was...well, a 'shit show' in no uncertain terms. Charles had been in the city for most of the day, which (for a telepath), meant a killer headache. Once the pain had finally subsided enough to form coherent thought, he'd realized what little food he actually had today, finally noticing the festering hunger by the pit of his stomach. Erik had just entered from the bathroom.

"Erik," Charles beckoned from the couch.

"Yes?" Erik turned to see Charles splayed out on the couch. He wore only a robe—motel issued, of course—and white briefs. Erik put massive amounts of effort into not looking at Charle's dick, which you could vaguely see the outline of.

"I'm hungry."

"And?" Erik raised a brow, now standing in front of Charles.

"Food. I want it." Erik smirked a little at the way Charles was acting. 'Cute' was the word bouncing around in his mind; he would never admit it though. Erik could see the desperation in Charles' eyes, almost a pout. He promptly decided that it was a matter of national importance to annoy the ever-loving shit out of Charles.

"What's the magic word?" Charles shifted to lying on the couch now, head propped up by one hand.

"Erik you're amazing, wonderful, handsome, and I love you?" Charles looked up to see a visibly nervous, startled, bumbling, blushing, Erik.

Okay, maybe it's a matter of local importance?

In reaction, Charles' mouth slightly opened, eyes wide, eyebrows raised for only a fraction of a second. Because, fuck, that's hot, but also, he can't know that.

Still flushed, Erik coughed and said "that will suffice." Erik then grabbed the hotel phone, calling down room service—while also, actively paying no mind to Charles. About a minute later, Charles piped up.

"I can flirt too, you know." Erik raised a brow and snapped to Charles' eyes.

"Yes, I've seen it in action. I often watch it with abject horror."

"You weren't staring at my ass in abject horror," Charles mumbled, breaking eye contact with Erik (who is, once again, a mess).

"No, I was staring at your ass with uncertain lust. Your ass isn't you flirting though, Charles. Your flirting is 'oh, hello attractive person, may I unzip your genes?" This time, Charles went red in the face, and let out a scoff.

"Erik, I purposefully shake my ass in front of you. I bite on the tip of my pen, I walk around half naked more often then normal, I leave the door open when I shower."

"I... I thought that was just you."

"It is, it's me when I'm around you"

Suddenly, a knock on the door breaks the trance both men were looped into. Erik shuffles around to open the door and mumbles a "thanks" to the worker. Charles loses himself in thought and Erik sifts through the food. He brings Charles his lava cake on the couch, where he sits down next to him with his coffee. Erik has to push around Charles' legs to make room. Once settled, Charles just places his legs on top of Erik's—both men sitting on opposite ends of the sofa, facing towards each other. Charles finally begins to dig into his lava cake, making aggressive eye contact with Erik. After a while, he shifts his fork around on the empty plate, still staring at Erik. Charles’ eyes landed on Erik’s lips; a shot of anticipation went up his spine. He’d thought about this many times before, and his thoughts began to spiral, replaying old fantasies. I don’t know where I want his lips first. Maybe we’d make out a bit first, then he’d kiss down my neck. Maybe he’d find that spot right behind my ear. Maybe I’d get to see his lips wrapped around my-

"Charles, are you still hungry?" Both men now sat 'pretzel style' still facing each other, when they got there remains a mystery. Charles now met Erik’s eyes, blood rushing up to his cheeks.

"No, I'm plenty full, why?" Charles leaned in slightly

"Okay, then do you plan on kissing me or just staring at my lips like they're your desert?"

Charles' eyes go dark with lust; his body stills. He nearly throws the plate down, muttering something along the lines of "bastard," and surges forward to meet Erik. Erik's hands frame the sides of Charles' face; Charles' hands grasp the older man's hair. Their noses were touching, breath burning each other's skin, mere inches away from kissing. Charles' eyes frantically searched Erik's, as if attempting to commit the moment to memory.

"Do you always play with your food, Charles?" Erik asked, and Charles could feel the question against his mouth. Charles let out a soft "fuck you" before finally closing the distance. As their lips met, they began to slowly devour one another. Their kiss was surprisingly... non-aggressive; sweet, even. Still full of passion, lust, and desire, but it was clear that neither of them were in a rush. Both men savored their (now) lover's taste. Erik let out a breathy laugh, and Charles did the same. Words left unsaid, declarations of love, and pure adoration were confessed against each other's lips.

Charles tugged against Erik's hair, and Erik groaned. Erik, in retaliation, shifted his hands down to Charles' ass, making him yelp. He lifted Charles closer, placing him atop his own lap. The couple broke apart for air, now panting in to each other's mouths. Erik's hands found Charles' face again, thumbs stroking softly.

“You taste like chocolate," Erik rasped, because honestly, he has no clue what to say. Charles placed a chaste kiss on the corner of Erik's mouth. He responded, in a similar tone, with "you taste like bastard."

Erik laughed, and oh god, that's one of Charles' favorite sounds.

"And, pray tell, what does bastard taste like, Charles?" Oh fuck, he's never said my name like that before.

"It tastes like the idiot who agreed to travel with me." Both men leaned back slightly, now looking into one another's eyes. "Tell me more about this idiot," Erik purred, one hand now roaming across Charles' neck. Charles released Erik's hair, and instead, wrapped his hands around Erik's arms.

"Well, he's stubborn," Charles began, Erik contenting with a mhm. Charles contemplated his next words, before trying again.

"He's stubborn, handsome… probably my best friend, and has these piercing, stormy eyes. He speaks five languages, and I swoon every time he speaks his native tongue. To be fair, I swoon every time he speaks period. His laugh is one of my favorite sounds in the world, and he's the only person I enjoy arguing with. He's a beautiful masterpiece of passion, even though he can't see it. Sometimes it scares me—how honest I am with him. He's very vocal about mutant rights, he's a wonderful addition to my life, and I think I might be a little bit in love with him." Erik's thumb stopped moving, and his body stilled.

"I think that idiot is a little bit in love with you too."

Please send me requests if you have any! I do !x reader’s too, I just haven’t had a good idea for one.