#his inner scott came out

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

based Doctor who

[thinkinonsense]

SEVEN DAYS

x2!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: desperate!logan, eating reader out, fingering, squirting?

masterlist

the mission was only supposed to last for two days. forty-eight hours and he would return home to you. instead it was dragged out much longer than it needed to be.

logan wanted nothing more than to be home in your arms instead of a motel room alone, painfully hard, trying to tune out scott snore on the other side of the wall.

so, on thursday afternoon when him, scott, and storm returned to the mansion, logan wasted no time hunting you down. he could smell you the second he walked through the front door; you were in charles office. charles, hank, jean, and you were meeting to discuss a new experiment when logan bursts through the door.

"logan! pleasure for you to join us." hank announces.

your head snaps up from your scribbling to see that your lover has returned safely. he looked like a lion ready to pounce on a naivë little lamb.

"just came by to pick something up." logan answers, ignoring everyone else in the room as he made a b-line for you.

"hey, baby–"

within seconds, logan lifts you up over his shoulder and out of the leather seat. you squeal, dropping your notepad and pen. your kitten heels kick his abs as your squirm in his arms.

"logan!" you hiss, swatting his toned back as he turns around to walk out of the room, unphased. "what the hell! put me down!"

he ignores you, pulling down your dress to cover your behind from your co-workers. no one was shocked by logan's actions. the man wasn't a patient person by any means. they all watched as you left over logan's shoulder, face blushing with embarrassment.

when logan finally shut your guys bedroom door, he placed you down on the edge of your bed; yet to say a word to you. instead, he falls straight to his knees in front of you. his big callous hands, rubs the soft skin of your inner thighs, opening your legs.

logan couldn't help but moan when he saw the pretty lacy light blue panties you were wearing. you could see the neediness in his eyes as he licked his lips. before he can remove your underwear, you cradle his face in your much smaller palms.

"you alright, baby?" you ask, looking down at him.

similarly to a cat, logan rubs the scruff of his beard against your thigh, pressing his nose against the thin panties; inhaling the scent of your arousal. you run a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp softly before your fingers tugging on the kitten tuffs, making him whimper against your pussy.

"mhm..." he manages to say. "i missed you."

"aw, i missed you–"

"missed your scent, your lips, your mouth..." his words are muffled as he kisses you messily over the lace. "missed this fuckin' pussy so much."

you gasp when he pulls down the soaked material and moves back for a second to look at you. he spreads you apart with his thumbs, watching you twitch and clench at the cool air hitting your pussy. she was warm, wet, and welcoming to him. logan couldn't imagine a better way to spend the rest of his day.

"there's my favorite girl." logan smiles before spitting right on your button and latching his mouth onto you. you moan loudly as he talks to your pussy, acting as if you weren't even in the room.

"you've missed me too, huh, pretty girl?" he moans incoherently as his tongue runs over core.

it's a struggle to keep your eyes open but it was worth the sight of logan's head in between your legs. the noises he made with your slick were unbelievably lewd.

"must've missed me a lot." you giggle, trying to catch your breath as he wraps your legs around his head.

"you've got not fuckin' idea." he mumbles into your folds. spit and slick pooled onto the sheets that laid under you as logan feasted.

logan looks up at you and fears he might cum just from the image of you with your head thrown back, eyes rolled back and mouth slightly parted as you sing his praise of 'right there, logan!', 'such a good boy for me'.

the 'good boy' comment threw logan's mind into a frenzy. he needed to hear you. he needed to be surrounded by your presence. two of his fingers dip into you, fast and rough. your thighs squeeze his head, threatening to pop it right off his body.

there was no time to warn him before your high hit. logan slurped up every bit of honey you had to offer him. you reach down for the hand that wasn't busy locating your sweet spot and place it on your tit. logan could feel your heartbeat and it only sent him further on his spiral, adding a third finger and repeatedly hitting that spot that made you see fireworks.

"i c-can't, logan" you mewl, wiggling back from logan's tongue. he catches you, latching back onto your button. "it's too m-much!"

"she's takin' me just fine." his voice is muffled against you in the dirtiest way possible.

the pressure builds in your tummy. there were no words in your brain at this point, moaning and babbling about nothing.

"that's the spot, huh?" he groan, smirking up at you. logan's fingers twist up, slamming against that gummy spot deep in your walls.

the motion caused you to let out more slick than you ever had before, gushing on logan's face. you can hear him curse as he licks you clean.

“it’s only been seven days, you know?” you giggle, trying to catch your breath.

he climbs up your body to capture your lips, letting you taste yourself. you moan into his mouth, as logan grinds down on you, needing more.

“seven days too long, sweetheart.”

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

a/n: just something short n sweet before i post part 2 of dad!logan x teacher!reader <3

[bobafetts-princess]

Logan Loves to Bite

Summary: This is quite literally an homage to how I feel that Logan Howlett fucks and that’s all there is to it.

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: Established relationship, Logan bites sometimes hard enough to break skin, hair pulling, ass smacking, choking, oral (fem!receiving) rimming (fem!receiving), no condoms on this blog

A/N: Welcome to my most popular AO3 fic! If you’ve seen it there, I’m the same person! This one is my favorite Logan fic, it makes me unhinged every time I read it. I hope yall like it here ✨

It was just in his nature as a feral mutant. He bit. He bit when he was nervous or scared, and he bit when he got off.

He was lucky you had a great healing factor, while it wasn’t as quick as his (no ones was), it was still fast and your ‘love bites’ disappeared in a matter of hours. His mouth was always on you when the two of you fucked and Charles even had to sound proof your room because Scott and Jean kept complaining about all the noise.

His favorite way to fuck you was from behind, either his hand wrapped in your hair to give him leverage, or your body pulled up against his so he could bite his way along where your neck and shoulder met.

He was animalistic like that, wanting to take you from a position where he had the most power, the most control. He’d pull your body up so it fitted against his and wrap a hand around your throat, nose buried in your hair as he pounded up into you. His increased sense of smell was his secret kink. He could smell your arousal from rooms away and sometimes you would see if you could get yourself off before Logan found his way to your shared room, sniffing the air and taking over.

Every once in a while he would let you ride him, but it wouldn’t take long for him to pull himself up to you, sinking his teeth into the soft spot where your jaw and your neck meet. He would turn your head, whispering dirty words in your ear as he fucked up into you. He said he loved the scent you released when he was fucking you. He would bury his nose where you released the strongest scent, between your breasts or behind your ears or along the hairline on the back of your neck.

He loved to go down on you too, burying his nose in the crotch of your panties, inhaling deeply and telling you how fucking sweet you smelled. He was always leaving marks on the insides of your thigh as he worked his way towards the apex of them.


He’d grunt and groan, eating your pussy for all it was worth, pausing only to bite your inner thighs or dig his fingers into your hips. He always said he loved to bite the skin on your inner thighs the most. The part where it always seemed to be soft and pliable, no matter how hard you worked to make it go away. The bruises always faded faster than the bites, but he loved seeing you covered in them anyways.

Then he’d flip you over, smacking your ass and leaving red marks before he’d sink his teeth in the soft flesh. If he was feeling especially dirty, he would work his tongue towards your puckered hole, massaging the tight ring at the same time his hands did the same with your cheeks.

Logan would slip inside you, pressing until he was fully seated and you felt him in your throat. He’d give you a couple sharp thrusts, relishing in the way you’d gasp when he’d hit that spot. He’d pull your upper body backwards, fitting it against his hard chest as his teeth scraped along the edge of your ear and he would tell you how fucking good your pussy felt clamped around him. Logan liked to fuck and he liked to fuck dirty. He loved to get you so fucked out so you just fell asleep on his chest when he finally came, spent from hours worshipping your body. He loved to make you scream his name, loved when the only logical thought you could come up with was “Logan, Logan, Logan.”

He loved seeing the way your pussy looked stuffed with his cock, the way he stretched you as you gripped him. He loved the whimpers and whines you let loose when he had your hair fisted in his hands, or his fingers wrapped around your throat. He loved getting you so worked up you were begging for him to give it to you, begging for it harder, rougher, dirtier.

You’d long since given him the okay to bury himself in you if he woke up from a nightmare and you’d lost track of the amount of times that you’d been woken from Logan pushing into your wet heat, hands gripping tightly at your hips as he used your body to drown out his nightmares. He’d pin you down to the bed, needing the control as he pounded into you, teeth scraping along your shoulder blades until he finally bit down, grunting against your skin as he spilled himself into you.

He loved the little sigh of pleasure as he drove home for the first time, filling you completely. He loved the little gasps you released as he nibbled his way across your shoulders, the way you arched in for more. He loved the way that you arched when you came, highlighting your breast’s and making him all the more ready to nibble on them. He especially loved the way when he finally came, biting down hard enough to break skin, you would always let loose this throaty groan that shot straight to his groin. Because when it came down to it, you loved to be bitten as much as Logan loves to bite.

[dinogoofymutated]

NSFW! Nightcrawler/GN!Reader

This is purely self-indulgent smuttiness for Kurt, because sometimes cuteness aggression surfaces as really wanting to suck a man's dick. I know we haven't actually seen him in the 97' show yet, but I couldn't help myself. Think of this as a mixture between show Kurt and Comic Kurt. Or imagine any Kurt really.

Tw: MDNI!!!! Oral, slight cursing. Reader was pictured as AFAB while writing but no specific genitals or pronouns are mentioned.

Trying to relax in the X mansion was near impossible. There's always some event, some drama or loudness taking place. Living with gambit was hard enough with the explosions and shit, but after Jubilee moved in…

There was just no Peace in this house. Even though you wouldn't trade it for the world, there wasn't exactly any "me" time, If you catch my drift. It was ridiculously hard to find time for yourself, leaving you a bit more pent up than normal.

On top of that, there was almost always some sexual tension in the house. Rogue and gambit, Jean and Scott. Morph. Literally just Morph, and their innuendos. It was hard enough to see Rogue and Remy tip-toe around eachother, But Jean and Scott? You can't remember a time they weren't sneaking off together to get laid.

All this had left you ridiculous stiff. No free time, surrounded by the adult equivalent of horny teens, it was taking a toll on you. When Kurt came back to the mansion, you were over the moon to see him.

You loved your boyfriend so incredibly much, but never before had you been thinking such sinful thoughts about him. You'd steel glances of his toned arms when he'd hand you something. Glance at his ass when he walked by. Hell, just his smile and laugh would get you going.

He was just so cute. He's loving, and caring, and kind. You felt so lucky to be with him, but that didn't change the fact that you wanted to jump his bones, bad. You wanted to suck this man dry, and as embarrassed you are to admit it, you didn't hesitate to. The moment you finally had him in your bed, you knew you were going to give this man the best head of his life.

“You want to-?” Kurt’s breath hitches, the faint pupils in his yellow eyes dilating. His adam's apple bobbs as he looks away from your heated gaze and sets his eyes on your hands, idly stroking down his soft abdomen. You lean down to kiss him again, tenderly. He returns the kiss eagerly, his tail swaying back and forth on the bed. It takes a moment for you to be able to focus enough to get back on task.

“Please, Kurt.” You beg, breaking the kiss with him. He chases after your lips, and the action is so cute you can't help but kiss him again, and again. You kiss the corner of his mouth, before kissing the crook of his neck, and then his collarbone, dragging your teeth across the velvety blue skin. His soft moans are music to your ears as your hands drag lower, gently cupping the bulge that had started to grow. The air catches in his chest, but you don't tease him for long, moving your hands up and down his chest once again. His tail wraps around one of your wrists.

“Are you sure?” Kurt asks, one of his hands reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. You can help but lean into the touch with a sigh, mouth watering at the prospect of having him against your tongue. You smile at him, scoffing just lightly.

“Of course I am, silly.” The words come out breathlessly. “Why wouldn't I be?” You trail kisses lower, paying special attention to the curly hair of his happy trail as you softly run your fingers across his skin. Kurt swallows, letting out a quiet whine as you start to slide his sweatpants down to free his cock.

“ ‘Just… Don't want you to feel like you have to, Schatz- Hng..” He lets out a choaked groan as you start to press kisses along his inner thighs as you remove the pants completely. You giggle a little, aiming to make him moan just a little louder as you start to stroke and kiss along his length.

“Believe me, love, I wouldn't be begging for it if I did.” You respond. Kurt opens his mouth to speak again, only to cut himself off with a sharp “Ah!” as you take the head of his cock into your mouth and start to suck. The end of his tail twitches, still wrapped around your wrist, and he chuckles.

“That was a dirty trick,” He says, reaching down to move the hair out of your face. You hum in appreciation as his hand gathers your locks, holding the hair back so he can see you better. You reward him by taking more of him into your mouth, reveling in the noises you receive in return. His skin is smooth and soft, and you find yourself appreciating every inch of him you can fit in your mouth.

You're doing your very best to give him exactly the kind of head he deserves for being so sweet and loving and caring. You think about the chores he's done without asking since he's been back as you swirl your tongue around his tip. The book he brought you as a souvenir as you glide back down, nosing the dark blue patch of curls. God- he was just the most perfect man you had ever met, and you were determined to reward him for that.

“Scheisse- I… Liebe, I'm going to…ah!” Kurt begins to writhe underneath you, and it gives you the best satisfaction when you open your eyes to see his face contorted in the throes of pleasure. You savor the taste of his skin as he begins to twitch in your mouth. His grip tightens around your hair, he free hand opening and clenching as he scrambles for purchase on the bed. You take hold of it, lacing your hands together as best you can just in time for him to reach his peak.

You never really liked the taste or texture of cum, but for Kurt, You'd swallow every drop he gives you. You work him through his high as he squeezes your hand, moaning at the sensation. His moans turn to whines as he becomes sensitive, his tail unwinding Itself from your wrist. You can tell just by looking at it that it might bruise, but you wouldn't dare tell him that.

His grip loosens on your hair as you pull away from him. His yellow eyes are teary and his muscles are relaxed and boneless, but that doesn't stop him from sitting up a little and sliding his hand behind the nape of your neck to pull you in for a deep kiss. His kisses are loving and passionate, they leave you breathless when he pulls away. Kurt licks his lips as he takes you in, chest heaving. You can only imagine how you look with messy hair and swollen, spit stained lips, but there's nothing but adoration in his eyes.

“I love you.” He says, after a moment of silence. “I'm in love with you. You know this, Ja?” His other arm wraps around your waist, tugging you even closer to him. You can't wipe the smile off your face as you lean in, resting your forehead against his own, pressing a chaste kiss against his nose.

“I do. I promise.” You reply. Kurt grins, and you can briefly hear the sound of his tail swishing in a way you know means he's thinking about doing something mischievous, and the next thing you know, there's a *Bamf!* as you fall into where he was once sitting on the bed. You have the slightest moment of confusion before Kurt is behind you. He grabs hold of you, leaning back to make you fall backwards into him with your back against his bare chest. He presses kisses along your neck and maneuvers you into his lap. Your legs are hooked over his own, his knees widening the space between your thighs as his hands trail so close to where you want him to be.

“Please, let me return the favor, my love.”

[anakinsbunny]

So high School

MDNI!!! 18+!!!

I know this sucks, please bear with me, i do not know how to write smut but i wanted to at least try

Summary: Scott hates studying so he decides to go down on his girlfriend.

Scott absolutely hated studying, he would rather be playing football than stare at some stupid book, but here he was sat with his girlfriend who forced him to study for the history test that was coming up, he wasn’t paying to anything that was being said, he was too busy staring at her, that was until she snapped her fingers in his face to catch his attention. “Earth to Scott, are you even listening to me? Ugh, of course you’re not.” she rolled her eyes. 

“Oh come on, babe, don’t be like that, you know I am listening to you.” He smiled trying to convince her, but all he got in return was a glare. He sighed, “Alright, fine I wasn’t listening to you, I’m sorry I promise I’ll listen now, please don’t be mad at me, baby.” He kissed her cheek, trying to cheer her up, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. 

Scott began to kiss down her jaw to her neck, sucking on her sensitive spot. He was aiming to distract her from the stupid book, “Let’s forget about the test for now, let’s focus on us, please, sweetheart?” He murmured against her skin, pushing the papers to the ground of her dorm room. His hands began to roam her body, his hand went underneath her skirt while the other cupped the back of her head. She wanted to protest but the way Scott was sucking on her skin, made her mind hazy, she bit on her lower lip, trying to stifle her noises. She placed her hands on his shoulders, her fingers gripped his shirt as he started making her way down, nipping at her collarbone, “Scott, keep going.” She whispered.

Scott lifted his head up, “You want me to keep going?” He asked with a smug grin on his face, once she nodded, he laid her down on the bed, pushing her skirt up revealing her panties. He leaned in, pressing kisses to her inner thighs, his face inching closer to her core, he licked his lips as he pulled down her panties, throwing them on the floor. Scott dove straight in between her legs, inhaling her scent first, “Smell so sweet, baby.” He whispered, before licking at her swollen clit, making her let a small gasp out.

He gripped her thighs, keeping them apart as he licked circles around her clit, teasing her. He loved going down on her, he enjoyed hearing her moan his name and tug on his hair, he let go of her thigh, and pushed a finger inside her, adding even more pleasure. He felt her fingers pull his hair, making him groan against her pussy, he moved his finger in and out of her, loving the sounds she was making for him. 

He licked and sucked on her clit, pushing another finger inside her. “You taste so fucking good, baby, I could spend hours down here and never get tired.” He muttered, feeling her pussy squeeze his fingers, he knew she was close. Scott sped up the movements of his fingers, and licked at her clit faster, “Cum on my tongue, sweetheart, let me taste even more of you.” He encouraged her, looking up at her, taking in the sight of her body, the way she was squirming, the noises she was making, her eyes were closed, she bit on her lip hard almost drawing blood as she came, her thighs shook, she shuddered, “Scott, fuck…” she moaned, tugging on his hair as he sucked her jucies into his mouth.

Scott lifted his head up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Do you still wanna study or shall we continue with other activities?” He smirked, already knowing the answer to his question. 

a/n: scott is so underrated, more people need to write about him!!

[blackownersseekingsuccess]

Remembering Bayard Rustin: The Unsung Hero of the Civil Rights Movement

written by Levi Wise Kenneth Catoe Jr.

August 1, 2024 - Growing up as a Black boy in Paterson, NJ, and attending Roman and Irish Catholic Parochial schools, Black history was not very familiar to me. I grew up in a religious Southern Baptist family and participated in the church choir. In this context, Martin Luther King, Jr., was all that I knew about Black history until I became a teenage Madonna fanatic. Ironically, Madonna made me aware of Black activists and radicals such as Nina Simone, Jean-Michel Basquiat, James Baldwin, and Bayard Rustin. Bayard Rustin was an African American activist who believed in civil disobedience. Rustin felt that Black people should deliberately break unjust laws but do it non-violently to bring about change and this would play a key role in the Civil Rights movement. He also advocated for LGBTQ rights. Rustin moved to Harlem in 1937 and began studying at City College of New York. It’s interesting to note that at the time CCNY was an all-male college once regarded as ‘Jewish Harvard’ which did not accept Black men—Rustin was an unusual exception. While Rustin was at CCNY he became involved in efforts to defend and free the Scottsboro Boys, nine young black men in Alabama who were accused of raping two white women. Activism for Rustin was something that came naturally. He later became a mentor to Martin Luther King.

Rustin is one of my all-time idols. I have been enamored of him since I learned about him, so I was excited to attend an event dedicated to his life and legacy at the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, “Between the Lines: Bayard Rustin, A Legacy of Protest and Politics.” The event was a conversation between Michael G. Long and Jafari Allen, who edited the book of the same name. Their exchange sparked many revelations and I left the event more aware than when I entered. I felt so much pity for the life that Rustin had to live, including the attack on his character that was rallied against him by other Black people and the distance that Martin Luther King placed between himself and Rustin out of fear of people assuming that he was also gay. I also learned that it was Coretta Scott King who introduced King to Rustin. Scott-King met Rustin during her college years as a fellow activist who practiced civil disobedience. She would ultimately introduce her husband King to civil disobedience tactics. Rustin recalled that his first time meeting King he was strapped with a handgun and that he never traveled without his gun. It was Rustin who told King that if he represented civil disobedience he would have to be willing to put away his firearm, which eventually he did. Nevertheless, this raises the question, who was King really? The “I Have A Dream” pacifist or the “Beyond Vietnam” radical? We will never truly know.

All in all what I did learn was that according to Rustin, King had no idea how to organize an event. Instead, it was Rustin who developed the blueprint for King’s early Civil Rights movement, at least until the day that King removed Rustin from his inner circle.

Nevertheless, Rustin returned to organize the March on Washington, despite everything leveled against him by Adam Clayton Powel and Roy Wilkins. Someone noted during the discussion that “it’s funny how karma works given the fact that nobody remembers Wilkins's legacy in comparison to the sudden interest in Rustin.'' If I remember correctly, the comment was made by the moderator, NYU professor Dr. Jarafi Allen, based on the fact that the venue was standing room only, or that the Hollywood lens is now fixated on Rustin’s story, with an Academy Award-nominated movie based upon his life currently in theaters. Wilkins has not received the same interest from Hollywood, perhaps indicating that he is less marketable in the mainstream. Meanwhile, Rustin’s role as an activist for the LGTBQ community is also important for newer generations. Until recently, this legacy and all that he accomplished was invisible, but he has since become a symbol of the “others” and most notably the “forgotten others”. While in his lifetime he was shunned, rallied against, and betrayed by those that he benefitted, history has allowed his legacy the final word.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Ooooooo

I have come, with something!

So, imagine reader is a young adult instead of the teen. They already gone through the system, was never adopted, so they have a lot of resentment to parents and such. And they actually work in the school as an assistant teacher. The team thing happens and when reader realizes they were being used, they quit, and after, cut out anything showing they’re a mutant. Maybe filling the claws way down to look like normal nails, or if it’s like wolverine’s, they use a rock to break it.

How would everyone react to seeing reader after that, either fresh from their self mutilation, or some days after?

Thanks for reading my rant!

🌂

Oooooo... Okay, okay, that's interesting! I still plan to have Reader as a teen in the main au, but Reader as a young adult? Not bad, if I say so. I'm going to count this as an au of the Smilodon AU, because I have an idea for how Reader finding all of this out goes, but... I really like this ask. So good job! Let's do it-

If the others, the X-Men and Brotherhood, saw Reader like that... I think they'd feel nauseous. Light-headed. Sick. Because their... whatever Reader is to them, is missing parts of their mutation, the parts that were part of them. Their claws... they're filed down, hardly there anymore.. Their fangs... not near as long or sharp as they used to be. And the small bits of fur or fluff that used to dot their arms and legs... they're gone, leaving the skin underneath. This isn't what they wanted. They wanted Reader as their, well... okay, they had used Reader. They didn't want to, in the end, and the teens wanted to stop it, but- They just couldn't. They tried. The adults... they feel remorse. A bit scared. Because now they know Reader can and will harm themself (and likely had before). When Xavier looks deeper into Reader's thoughts, he sees their inner-self, and it isn't a monster or a beast or an evil person... it's a scared, lonely, hurt child, who wants love, but has been denied it so long that they don't trust anyone. And after what all they've done... Reader doesn't even trust them anymore...

Xavier, Scott, and Jean would try to speak rationally with Reader (their version of rational). It goes out the window real quick when Reader's thoughts turn darker, sadder, spiraling. Scott wants to know why Reader did what they did, because he's sorry, and wants them to know they care. He wants them to see it their way. But he mostly wants to make things better between them. Jean wants to help Reader, and comfort them, but now there's a literal mental wall between them, full of bitterness. She wants to reach them,, to stop them from doing this to themself... Xavier wants to convince Reader they meant no harm, and to give them and the X-Men a proper chance to make it up to them. He knows that Reader will be hard to convince. But they have to hold out hope. If worse came to worse... they can try and move Reader in with them, albeit unwillingly. It might be the only way to keep an eye on them and their health...

Kurt, Kitty, Ororo, and Beast regret getting Reader's hopes up, only for the truth to come out about why they started trying to befriend them in the first place. Seeing Reader remove parts of their mutation, leaving them almost defenseless... Kurt feels scared. He has a visible mutation as well, and while he hid his with the holo watch, Reader didn't have something like that. And they got rid of parts of themself! It's... it's so hard to look at... Kitty wants to hug Reader, wants forgiveness. She's so sorry about what happened, she wants them to know that! But... why would Reader hurt themself? Are they hiding any other wounds? What If they hurt themself again?... Storm is doing her best to stay calm and motherly, which sadly doesn't get her very far. She knows they've hurt Reader, and it doesn't feel good, for Reader or for them. But they need to own up to it. The best they can do is apologize, and hope Reader forgives them, or at least doesn't hurt themself further. Perhaps getting Hank to talk with them would be better... Hank would try and help them, would try to talk with Reader. He wants to provide therapy, or at least get them to have a medical exam. He needs to know how bad they hurt themself. But they're not budging. He doesn't want Charles to force Reader. No. But if they want to help them, they need them under their care. And sadly, Reader does not want to be under their care or protection after everything...

Rogue, Evan, and Logan feel guilty. They know they didn't trust Reader at first. That they didn't want to give them the benefit of the doubt. But seeing how bad it's hurt them, that they'd rather hurt themself than them... It's a tough pill to swallow. Reader already had trust issues. They already didn't have a high opinion of themself. And they just made those a whole lot worse. Rogue is truly sorry, wanting to have Reader stay with them so they don't hurt themself or disappear. She's scared that if they look away from them, they'll be gone. That Reader will leave, or worse, be dead. Evan wants to apologize, but he also wants Reader to give them a second chance. Even his aunt is in on it, and maybe Reader would believe two of them over just one? He really wants them to not give up on them... Logan knows he hasn't handled knowing Reader very well. He knew about some of their past, and wrote them off as a bad influence. And they weren't. They're the cub of his "brother" (he doesn't know if that fuzzy maniac is his brother or not), but they've never even met the guy, let alone know who he was. It wasn't fair of him to get mad with them, to treat them as a potential threat. Seeing them harm themself though... It makes him realize that they had every chance to go after all of them, but instead they turned on themself. And for that... he realizes he shouldn't have been been hard. So cold.

The Brotherhood teens want to throw up. Their favorite assistant teacher, the one who tended to see the best in them, is missing parts of themself, or has cut them down. And it scares the cr*p out of them. This is their favorite teacher! Their go-to adult in school when things go wrong or people won't leave them alone! And they've. Hurt. Themself. They didn't want to use them! They swear! But... they're not sure this is an easy fix. This isn't as simple as saying sorry. This had consequences, and they've (mostly) learned that one has to own up to them, no matter what they be. Lance doesn't want to imagine Reader leaving them. They're the one adult he trusts. And now they're scared, or at least wary, of all of them. The X-Teens are in the same boat, so while he hates to say it, he might have to work with them to get Reader to stay, and hopefully heal and regrow their claws and fangs and fuzz. Todd feels sick. He didn't realize they could do that. They could actually remove parts of their mutation? Just like that? Thinking about it gives him shivers. Who would give their powers up? Who'd willingly hurt themself? He understands why they'd do it, he just wishes they hadn't. Fred wants to hug Reader and cry. His favorite adult (who's only a few years older than all of them) just hurt themself. And is upset with them. And is sad. He doesn't want them to be upset! Or hurt! He's trying to apologize, and is on the same boat as Lance to get the X-Teens help in apologizing, if it means Reader might forgive them. Pietro knows what they did. He knows it was wrong. Is he sorry?... Yes. But he still wants Reader with them. Seeing them they way they are... he still thinks they should be with them, even more now. They need help. His dad can get help, okay? H*ck, if they have to, they can pull Sabretooth in, okay?! He just... he doesn't want Reader to hurt themself even more. They're nice, and pay attention to him and his sister, good attention. How can they let them hurt? Wanda is asking Reader why they did it. She wants to know Reader's perspective on this, on why they did it, how they feel about them all. She doesn't want to hurt them, and she won't, but Reader needs help. She will not have her favorite adult die on her or hurt themself, so they'd better hurry up and go to her father or Xavier and get them involved, otherwise, they're going to have a problem. Mystique feels for Reader. Being distrusted by everyone. Having mutations that single them out. It hurts. It hurts her even more knowing she has hurt Reader with her actions. But this proves to her Reader needs a team. A group. She's grateful Reader hasn't taken their anger or hurt out on them, like their father might have. She knows they deserve it. But... she isn't sure if they should turn to... the X-Men... blegh... or to Magneto... who she's mad with... And unfortunately, those are her two options. The joys of being an adult, being responsible... Hopefully they can reach Reader before it could be too late...

[fictionadventurer]

Why did no one tell me about Cats Don't Dance? I had to hear it mentioned in an off-hand line in a Youtube video as an example of a good movie that flopped because it was screwed over by the studio, then I had to seek it out for myself, and only then find out:

It was the first non-Disney movie to win the Annie Award for Best Picture (it beat out Hercules).

It's an animated tribute to 1930s movie musicals done in the 1990s, which gives it a very Animaniacs vibe.

It has an insanely energetic and stretchy animation style.

It gives us the story of a starry-eyed song-and-dance man (who happens to be a talking cat) who leaves small-town Indiana hoping to make it big in Hollywood, only to find that talking animals don't get any starring roles. And then of course he meets a motley crew of eccentric animal actors who've had to content themselves with stereotyped bit parts and inspire them to try for better.

It has a romance where the cynical girl who had her dreams crushed gets inspired by the innocent, wide-eyed idealist to chase after hope again. (Which happens to be one of my special favorite kind of romances).

It's directed by a guy who'd go on to direct The Emperor's New Groove.

It's got songs by Randy Newman.

Scott Bakula voices the lead (and has a surprisingly decent singing voice).

Don Knotts plays a superstitious turtle.

There is a piano-playing elephant voiced by John Rhys-Davies.

The actress who voiced Cruella de Ville came out of retirement to voice a chain-smoking elderly fish (who might be my favorite side character).

Gene Kelly did the choreography (and it was the last project he worked on before his death).

The villain is an utterly insane Shirley-Temple-type child star who gets some of the most over-the-top animation I've ever seen.

She has a giant monstrous butler--like, it is absurd how giant this guy is.

And there are wild setpieces and big musical numbers and a scene with a clever use of color to show inner emotions.

It's not like the greatest movie ever made or anything, but it's a solid B-tier story that's a lot of fun and happens to perfectly fit my taste in so many ways, so I'm upset no one bothered to alert me to its existence.

[ipowlin]

So we all know that gem and pearl together is a force to be reckoned with. They have intimidated everyone on the server and rightfully so, they do not only have the bark but also a giant bite.

Now pearl. Pearl alone has so much potential.

She uses something that hinders her performance to her advantage, that thing is her ping.

She has the skill and strategy to solo half of the server if she went rabid again.

And that's the thing. She won't go rabid. She's kind and patient. Pearl has a potential that she couldn't show due to her loyalty and kindness.

Now you see, gem does not have a problem like that.

She's ruthless and blood thirsty whenever she feels like it. She is a leader, someone to look up to in a war. Gem brings the worst in pearl. She tells her things. She tells her to kill, to chase, to hunt. And pearl listens. She listens well.

Gem without pearl is like a warrior with nothing to fight with and for.

Pearl without gem is like a weapon without a wielder to protect and assist.

Gem knew. She knew that if she had gotten her hand on pearl she could rule the server alongside a witch with undying loyalty.

Pearl just wanted to be friends with gem because she was fun :3 she's silly like that

They've set plans, and strategies to defeat the enemy together. But before they know it, They've become each other's enemies.

Pearl asked gem

“gem. You don't want to do this, right…?”

And gem told her with a heavy heart. Knowing that there's no way that they could be together without betraying their day one alliances.

“No. I don't…”

gem ran away, feeling disappointed and betrayed as someone that promised to be her friend had attacked her without warning.

But before they could finish their conversation. A MASSIVE F[redacted]G C[redacted]T SHOT AT GEM. MAKING THEM FLEE. NICE JOB JOEL. (/Lh I love Joel beans)

And pearl, The weapon. Does what she does best and started to attack whoever her allies targets. Like a loyal wolf.

And being betrayed by pearl. That's something that happens once in a millenia.

She hid in her cherry peak as the mounders surrounded them. Gem sees pearl in the distance, stalking thought the forest to find a prey, and they locked eyes. Yet weirdly enough, none of them opened fire. Or even pulled out their bow.

They just shook their head at eachother as a symbol of peace and alliance. Friendship. Because that's what they were, they didn't want to kill eachother, they did not want to hurt one another. but their alliances. They forced them to do so. And they did, out of loyalty.

At that moment gem panics and jumped across the trees to tell both of them to stop shooting. But Scott just ignored her pleas and kept on going. Giving pearl no other option but to retaliate.

They stood their ground, looking at eachother with looks of pity before Scott pushed gem out of the way and shot at pearl. (GREAT JOB, SCOTT. 😡) She dodged before firing back at Scott.

Pearl told gem that she cannot stop what she is doing. But also that she does not have the heart to harm her either. She only wanted the Scotts.

Pearl went deeper into the inner walls of the scottages and was pummeled by arrows, yet she still presisted. impulse died without warning.

Shortly after she heard the yells of her allies and sprinted towards them. But she was too late for Scott and gem had killed them both.

Gem had thought. Maybe. Just maybe if she did not have her allies, she does not have her loyalty. And that she might join them.

Because gem knows that she could beat her. She knows that for a fact.

As she searched through the middle of the battlefield Scott ran up to her and started yelling at her to kill him. To take his heart and to not lose without a fight.

Without any other option she just did it. She stabbed him, gaining his hearts. And shortly after. Pearl came.

Not alone though, like she has hoped. She was with scar

Without any second though pearl shot at gem without mercy. Something that if un-character like of her. Pearl told her “dont make me do this, gem.”

I'm wich gem replied. Without sending her any arrows. “im not making you do anything! Why are you doing this.” as she ran away from them

Pearl chased after her. Though yelling “i don't know!”

Gem asked her “we’re friends! Why?!” and pearl repeated herself. “i don't know!!”

When they met again, pearl has not attacked gem. She tried to talk to her. To megotiate, anything that would mean not killing her. But before she could do that scar had jumped in and attacked gem again.

And what does a weapon do when given a target? They attack. So pearl ran in with her sword. And quite literally stabbed gem in the back.

Killing her.

Pearl got a wielder in the end. And it was not gem.

It was scar

[sansculottides]

Maximilien Robespierre was executed on July 28, 1794, or the 10th of Thermidor in the Republican Calendar. A conventional textbook may mark the end of the French Revolution with Napoleon’s coup in 1799. But Ralph Korngold, Marxist historian, wrote:

“No one man creates a revolution or carries it on, but the currents of revolution may sometimes range themselves in such a manner that the fate of one man becomes the fate of the revolution itself. ‘We did not realize,’ said Cambon, ‘that in killing Robespierre we would kill the Republic.” (From Robespierre and the Fourth Estate–the “fourth estate” here referring to the budding proletarian class of the time. Korngold gave particular attention to Robespierre’s role in the attempt to enact the Ventôse Decrees, the most revolutionary laws proposed during the Republic which would have expropriated the wealth of counter-revolutionaries to be redistributed to the propertyless.)

Napoleon’s ascent ten years after the start of the Revolution only marked the final stab in a Republic that was already good as dead. The death of Robespierre and his allies was the death of the Revolution’s radical aspirations, and allowed the propertied men to fully take charge. Though I also appreciate the sentiment that we can also mark the Revolution’s end a bit after Robespierre, with the death of Babeuf, the “proto-communist."

Anyway, what I really wanted to do was talk about a phenomenal short film that came out this year (on Robespierre’s birthday), “La mort de Robespierre” by smileyfaceorg/Janelle Feng (who has done so much amazing art about Robespierre and the French Revolution).

The film focuses on the night before 10 Thermidor, before Robespierre’s forceful arrest. This historical episode has been depicted before, in various ways. In the 1989 movie La Revolution Francaise, Robespierre had gone insane at this point, an interpretation that fed off of years of black propaganda. In Feng’s film, Robespierre is depressed, remorseful and self-loathing, an interpretation that does have its footing in historical record. In the months leading up to his arrest, Robespierre was frequently sick from the mental exhaustion of running and defending the Republic.

Mental health isn’t a new thing, though we have admittedly only recently begun to be articulate on the subject. Mental health amongst revolutionaries isn’t new either. Even Lenin died of sickness likely compounded by the stress of protecting the Revolution’s gains. In the 1871 Paris Commune, the commune council was “a working, not a parliamentary body [but] executive and legislative at the same time,” which allowed members to fully dedicate themselves to the cause of building a socialist future, but also burdened them with a punishing workload with little room for rest, and the mental exhaustion that naturally follows. I’m sure every person in any radical movement knows the weight of the struggle, but that’s one reason why it must be a collective effort.

At one point in the film Saint-Just looks at the 1793 Declaration of Rights on the wall and comments “To think we made that.” It’s another historically-rooted moment, as there was at least one eyewitness account claiming he did something like that on that night. I think the presence of the 1793 Declaration also ties the film in with the radical tradition of interpreting the Revolution. The ‘93 Declaration was more egalitarian than the initial 1789 Declaration, signed off by a pressured Louis XVI and also the one more textbooks would remember.

I love the use of comic elements too. Comic devices in film would make me think of stuff like Spiderverse or Scott Pilgrim where it’s fun and wacky, but in this film Feng uses comic devices to contract and expand space and time to an introspective yet claustrophobic effect. Especially the scenes where panels surrounded by negative space hint at Robespierre’s inner turmoil. It works really well; comic elements can work like poetry, after all.

I love stuff like this, art that is rooted in history (with quite scholarly rigor) while also aiming to go beyond academic scholarship. You can’t quite explore things like emotions and human experience the same way you can through art. Art like this film looks at historical facts and tries to fill in the gaps. How did they feel about this, what kind of effect did it have? And it explores how these historical people and episodes were human. More importantly, it does so with empathy and purpose, keeping in the “spirit” of the historical figures depicted. If you truly read Robespierre, you wouldn’t give in to lazy portrayals of a mad dictator. In contrast, Feng’s short film shows so much care and attention for this person in the past.

I’m so happy that someone like Feng is making art about the French Revolution. Most of the films, novels, games, etc that come out about the French Rev usually just follow the boring, very liberal and mainstream narratives, and calumnies about Robespierre being a dictator or various other kinds of monsters (not true). Korngold wrote about this too: “The Red Terror appears unpardonable to the Whites, and the White Terror to the Reds. Carlyle penetrates closely to the truth when he says that the reason the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution has received so much scathing comment, is mainly because it was directed against the privileged classes and their followers and not against ‘the voiceless millions.’”

Like the rest of history, our interpretation of the French Revolution exposes the undercurrents of ideology, conscious or not. Our ideas of who should be in power, who should be listened to. Ultimately, it did end as a revolution of the budding bourgeoisie, but before that defeat, there were revolutionaries who imagined and fought for a new future for all. Not just a political revolution, but a social and economic one. We should remember their revolutionary example. There is a reason, after all, why the Soviets held the likes of Robespierre, Saint-Just and Marat in high regard.

[mjr-acourtofdreams]

Dancing On My Own

Azriel x y/n, Eris x y/n

warnings: angst?

summary: this was heavily inspired by the song dancing on my own by calum scott. It kind of gotten in a different direction then I wanted it to go but yeah!

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

I made sure that I looked absolutely beautiful well the best that I could for being me I was definitely not as flawless as Elain I didn't even come close to compare. My eyes where not that pretty brown that shines in the sunset just right or my hair wasn't soft and had that golden glow to it. Look at myself in the mirror one last time the midnight black dress hugged my curves just right my curls flowed down my back a small smile ghosted on my face maybe he will finally notice me.

The party was at full swing by the time Rhysand picked me up and flew me to the house of wind everyone was already dancing, mingling and drinking their fill. "Thank you for the lift." I glanced over at Rhys he lightly bowed his head "The pleasure was mine y/n, please enjoy the party." he smile and made his way toward Feyre who looks stunning in her starry gown her smile grew has she made eye contact with Rhys her eyes caught mine and she grab a little wave I smile and then made my way towards the bar table. "Wow! You look absolutely stunning y/n!!" I nearly choked on my drink I turned and came face to face with Nesta and Cassian I nod my head "thank you, Cassian." I gave a small smile and turned "Nesta" I nod my head to her she did the same "I didn't think you would actually come." Nesta raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "Well, I think it would have been rude if I didn't since Feyre invited me in person and I needed to get out the house..." I took a drink she just nodded and turned and walked away I let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding in "It will be okay." Cassian put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a soft smile and went to find his mate.

I still haven't noticed the two that I've been trying to avoid, well mostly I was hoping to at least see Azriel and for him to notice me and then maybe just maybe I'll tell him what has been on my mind since the before that day my sisters and I was dumped into the cauldron. I glanced my eyes to the dance floor and that's when I saw it. Elain in Azriel's arms dancing across the floor she smiled up at him, he looked at her like she was his whole world. The tears in my eyes started to form but that didn't compare to the pain in my chest that started it ripped through my soul tearing my apart slowly, a slow painful death but I couldn't look away from the sight in front of me and I don't think it would even help ease the pain if I did.

I forcedly wiped the tears from my eyes and turned towards the drink table grabbed a glass and downed it as quick as I could and then reached for another and did the same. if I have to stay here all night and watch those to fall in love in anymore, I'm going to need a good buzz to do so, fuck this. I glared back up and see the whole inner circle and my sister gathered around chatting and laughing without me figure that much. I have all ways been on outcast of our family, being the youngest of the sisters made it was I was pushed even farther aways from the afterthought of everything and everyone else I would think after turning High fae and after everything things would change clearly, I was so wrong.

Holding the glass so hard it might bust into a million pieces staring at the perfect found family that acts like I don't even exist I didn't notice the male approach my side and stood there "If you don't let go of that poor glass, we are going to have a mess to clean up." I jumped so hard and grabbed my chest trying to calm my racing heart, turning my body to face the person who scared the life out of me. "Oh, Eris!" I set my glass down and glared at him "You just scared me to death! Don't seek up on people like that!" putting my hands on my hips looking up at him and he gave me his devilish smirk. I never minded the new High Lord of Autum we actually grew a very close friendship through the short years I have been fae. "Why are you over here guarding the bar table?" he looked into my eyes, studying them. Shaking my head I looked back out towards the dance floor "well someone has to." I smirk playing on my lips I soon forgot why i was so angry a moment ago. I felt him move closer bending down close to my ear and he whispered, "well why don't you give up your post for a moment and come dance with me." I shiver ran down my back "looking has exquisite has you do you shouldn't be hiding on the side lines." I turned my head coming nose to nose with Eris looking into his eyes "I-I w-well..." I couldn't get my words out before he grabs my hand and drag me into the middle of the dance floor a smile grew across my face and I threw my head back and laugh, I real laugh Eris glance back at me with a smile across his face and a glow in his eyes.

Azriel's POV

A smile ghosted across my face while I took in my family all gather together laughing and smiling, glancing to the side I see Elaine holding her glass close to chest smiling brightly at Feyre and Nyx while the talk about something I am not sure I lost track of the conversation moment ago turn to see if anyone needs another drink I heard the my joyous laughter fill room bouncing off the walls, I could pick out that laugh anywhere. Turning to find the person behind the laugh, looking across the dance floor I see her, y/n spinning around the middle of the dance floor, smiling and laughing like I never seen her do she looks so free, so happy and at peace it made my smile grow even wider until I see the arm that reached out and grabbed her and lifted her up spinning with her... Eris, the smile that cover my face vanished and my blood ran cold my shadows started to swarm around. "Azriel... Azriel?" I felt a hand touch my arm and a shook it off and whipped my head around to see a worried Elaine and a confused Feyre looking at me the glance at Rhys, I felt claws coming down on my walls "what is he doing here?" I spoke to Rhys in my mind he took a moment to respond, "all the High Lords attended this year's Starfall, he is the new High Lord of Autum." I just glared at Rhysand and turn back to the dance floor now see them both in each other's embrace he smiled down at her, she looked at him like he was her whole world. The tears in my eyes started to form but that didn't compare to the pain in my chest that started it ripped through my soul tearing my apart slowly, a slow painful death but I couldn't look away from the sight in front of me and I don't think it would even help ease the pain if I did.

[deadlyhuggles6]

Cold

Tiny bit of wild life fanfiction with some fanart! very Pearl-centric

consider giving the ao3 version some love as well?

~

Pearl didn’t notice anything had changed until the first session ended.

To be fair, there had already been so many changes to her body that when her skin began to tingle and lose sensation after that first, early death, she didn’t even notice anything had changed. Scott gave her some weird looks when she got back, but she was more than used to ignoring him.

It wasn’t until after Grian called the session to a close for the weekend, turning off the wildcard and allowing everyone to take a break that Pearl had time to slow down and notice the change.

The rest of her teammates had already dispersed for the night- with nothing but a handful of chests at their base and friends happy to host elsewhere on the server, it wasn’t worth it to stay. So, they’d gone off in search of greener pastures and warmer beds. Only Pearl had stayed behind, with her loyal Billy. 

Pearl groaned, rubbing at her face with trembling hands. Her skin still itched, tingling like she was constantly changing sizes. Billy circled around her legs, pressing his cold nose into her thigh and leaned against her. She threaded her fingers into his thick fur, past the thick winter coat and into the soft undercoat and let him guide her down towards the river. 

She fell to her knees at the riverbank, barely managing to push her sleeves up before plunging her hands into the river. The freezing water was a shock to her system but not enough to stop the itching. Leaning down, she splashed water up into her face, droplets of ice cutting into her nerves in a horribly familiar way.  Billy nosed under her arms and put his paws and head up in her lap, not quite careful enough to stop his nails from digging into her bare skin.

For a moment Pearl forgot where she was. Alone except for the wolf in her lap, scratched and so so cold- she reached past paws to harshly pinch the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Her dog barked, teeth snapping at her fingers, and the sound rattled through her chest like an ax crit, breaking through the haze for a minute. She plunged her hands into the river again, chasing the clarity it gave her. Canine jaws closed around her arm and pulled, forcing Pearl to pull her hands out of the river.

A wet nose dug into her hands, and she cupped her hands for her puppy to nuzzle into. She scratched at velvet ears and cooed at wide black eyes. Right, she wasn’t alone, she had her puppy, and she didn’t need anyone else. Because Scott could hate her, but this little animal would always love her.

She continued to run her fingers through the dense fur, but she quickly came to notice a distinct difference between both hands and the level of sensation she was picking up- mostly in her right hand. 

Pulling her hands out the long white fur, she froze at the sight of dry, unnaturally grey skin creeping up her hand and wrist. It was something she’d seen other red names experience, but never herself, and never like this. It was supposed to come all at once, not like this.

“That’s new.”

She wasn’t supposed to be red now. Scott said they were gonna be friends till the end, she couldn’t be red yet, because then he’d leave her alone in the cold with only her dog and- another loud bark, sharp nails pawing at her legs and pushing against her hands. It only broke her out of the spiral for a moment.

“Shhhh,” she tries to soothe, “shhh Ti-”

Pearl stopped, feeling hazy. There was a hearth in her chest, a shallow bed of coals that she’d doused with snow, and she knew she’d done it herself, but she didn’t expect to be so cold. Every breath was a pump of the bellows, flaring sparks through her limbs, tender bursts of adrenaline and pain, but there was no dry timber to catch. She shoved Ti- Mi- her dog out of her lap and put her head between her legs, trying not to throw up.

She stared down at the water, forcing her lungs to expand and contract. Scott would never forgive her if she suffocated them both with a panic attack. He’d deserve it for leaving her all alone here, out in the cold with only her dog for warmth. It was probably a good thing that he hadn’t started pinching her arms yet, punishing her for the ticks of damage she inflicted upon him. She focused on her eyes, using the red as a beacon. There was her distorted image, overly pale skin, messy brown hair, one red eye-

She squinted, looking for the second bit of red in her reflection, but there was nothing. Pearl pulled her comm out of her pocket and turned it to selfie mode.

Oh.

She understood now why Scott was looking at her like that.

Her left eye was her normal shade of blue, but the right one was deep scarlet and drooping into an unfriendly scowl. She tried to force it into a different facial expression, but it didn’t budge. The skin around it barely moved either, totally grey and dry to the touch, and now that she was paying attention, she could recognize that it had lost a lot of feeling, same as her hand. The way it crept over her right cheek, leaving a crescent of normal skin on the left side of her face, made her shiver. 

She dropped her comm beside her and groaned. Billy was immediately up in her lap, licking at her face and doing his best to distract her.

“What am I gonna do, Billy? Scott is never gonna forgive me for going red early again. He’ll make us leave and we’ll have to go be on our own in a tower with no friends or allies and it’ll be so cold. And I can't stop it this time.”

Not that she could stop it last time, but it wasn’t so physically obvious before. Her skin wasn’t a constant physical reminder of the red bloodlust lurking below the surface.

She buried her hands back into Billy’s fur, hiding her hands in his fur. She didn’t want to be cold again. 

She told herself that again when she messaged Grian, asking for a set of gloves for the season. She didn’t want to be cold again.

The black, mid-forearm length gloves fit her perfectly. She wouldn’t be cold again.

~

She and Billy ended up crashing at BigB’s for the rest of the break, steadily avoiding the searching eyes of her other teammates for the comfort of her fellow Nosy Neighbor. Something in her untensed when faced with BigB’s quiet, unquestioning nature. When the second week had been called to a close, despite her new assurance that Scott and Cleo wouldn’t leave, and the newly developed and heated downstairs in their base, Pearl still slipped away, a wolf in the night, to the pale garden where BigB made his home.

She only briefly stopped by his face shaped house, passing through the front doors on her way to the back one. BigB appeared to be getting ready to leave already, a change of clothes and a pale moss blanket in hand.

“I’m going to the campfire, don’t come looking.”

BigB made no move to stop her or convince her to stay, just reached out to squeeze her shoulder, a form of affection that had become common to them in past seasons.

“I’ll be with your group tonight, feel free to come back whenever you're ready. I’ll see you tomorrow.” BigB’s glowing amber eyes should’ve been unsettling, but all Pearl felt was relief. He was predictable in the best way, gentle, accepting, and the exact opposite of catastrophizing. They’d worked well together, as allies and friends, for that exact reason.

The session one campfire in the pale garden was somewhere no one but BigB would expect to find her at, which made it perfect for this. She lit the campfire and settled onto the white wood seats. Billy circled around her before nosing into her right side, where he’d refused to leave. Kicking her feet up onto a pale oak log, Pearl bit the bullet and pulled off her sweatshirt and gloves. Sitting in just her tank top and shorts, puppy by her side, she began to catalogue the changes to her body.

She already knew it was bad; she’d checked her face in her comm after her second death and knew that the grey death had already begun to creep over the right side of her mouth, making it just a bit harder to express herself. But her arm-

It’s getting worse. There was no denying it. It was all the way up her elbow, creeping up the soft underside of her arm. It was moving so quickly- her next couple deaths would only make it move faster. Would it retreat if she went from yellow or red back up to green? Or would it only continue to get worse, inhibiting her movement and dulling her to pain even as a green name?

Billy pressed his nose into her side and began to lick at her exposed thigh, distracting her from racing thoughts of the future. Pearl immediately began to scratch his ears, settling him down.

“I know, I'm here. We’ll survive this. We won’t be cold again.” if she kept saying it, surely it’d be true.

She threw her jacket and gloves back on and whistled for Billy, jumping down the mountain back home. In some ways, life was so much easier when she was fully scarlet and had no one to care for but herself and Tilly, but she couldn’t be cold and alone forever.

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 14

🧡❤️🩶💛🚒🐦‍🔥

"So what's the plan?" Rigby jogged up alongside John.

"Here," John pressed a button at his wrist and the rock face in front of them opened; much the way a garage door might.

"Impressive," Rigby mused aloud. He let out a long, low whistle as he stepped inside.

"We need to clear a path around the pool. Jetpacks just won't cut it if we're gonna try n' stabilize One," John pointed to his brother's green Bird.

"Need me to pilot her?" Rigby's face held more than a trace of excitement.

"Oh...no, sorry," John scratched the back of his head.

"You'll be driving one of her pods. When we've cleared enough of the debris, and the villa has been stabilized; I may need you in Phoenix's carrier to help with moving One."

Rigby straightened and gave a nod.

"Time is scarce. Reports say Alan's okay, but we have a further three people in the villa who may require urgent medical attention, and I can't risk McCready's team in there until we know they have a chance at making it back out again," John sighed.

Rigby cleared his throat; his face visually construing a silent inner-debate.

"What?" John urged, then winced inwardly at his tone. Adjusting to Earth's gravity appeared to be even more wearing when fearing for your family's well being.

"You know, you can call them by name - Virgil and Gordon. We...we have your back," Rigby gave John an awkward clap on the back.

The clap echoed around the cavernous hangar.

John swallowed hard to staunch impending tears. There was a second's pause, before the astronaut stepped into his missing brother's Bird.

*. *. *.

"Knock, knock!" Parker called to signal his arrival outside of Alan's door.

"Erm...am I supposed to say who's there?" Alan's young voice came back.

" 'Oo's there? Well, hI'm glad to see that yer haven't lost your sense of humour along with yer bedroom!" Parker chuckled as he worked the lock on Alan's door.

There was a satisfying sound of the latch clicking, and the door swung open.

"Looks like you could use an 'and, Master Alan," he smiled, extending a hand.

"F-A-B-," Alan enthused, hauling himself up, and into the corridor, with Parker's help.

The teen cracked his back.

"Welp, I think I now hold the Tracy Island record for the longest pull up!"

*. *. *.

"We had to make an 'ole in Master Gordon's window to get to you. 'Fraid your brother's parking had made somewhat of a mess," Parker gestured towards Gordon's rooms.

"Didn't you teach him to drive?" Alan grinned.

"Cars, young Master Tracy, not rocket ships! And, I'll 'ave less of yer cheek! Scott might not be firin' on all cylinders at the moment, but you mark my words - I 'ave a memory like an elephant!" Parker chuckled, wagging a finger.

"You look like one too!"

"Oi!" Parker swatted at the teen as he ran.

*. *. *.

John and Rigby had made light work of clearing the debris surrounding the villa, and the structure was stabilised enough for a team to head up to help locate Virgil, Grandma, and Gordon.

"HELLO? VIRG? GRANDMA? GORD-"

"-OVER HERE!" Gordon hammered a small rock against a metal support beam.

The team tentatively picked their way over splintered floorboards and around mounds of rock that lay strewn across what was left of the comms room.

"Allie, is that you?"

"The one and only! I've brought some friends with me. Didn't wanna hog all the glory, y'know?"

"Phoenix?"

"Yup!"

Jonesy took a step closer, with a small hydraulic whine from the suit.

"Jonesy?"

"S'up Gords? I like what you've done with the place. You're kinda lacking in the door department though."

"Well y'know what Virgil always says; if you can't find a door, make one!" Gordon called from behind the fallen rocks.

"My thoughts exactly!"

"WAIT!" Tycho was almost pulled forwards into the rock face as he tried to stall Jonesy's suited arm.

"The structure's too unstable. Any attempt to move these boulders risks the whole lot coming down on top of Gordon," Tycho gesticulated wildly.

"Yeah, let's not do that." Gordon deadpanned.

"So what's the plan?" Jonesy couldn't deny that the thrill of using the exosuit had him itching to use his new superpower again. Two tonne boulder? No problem! He'd just shifted it like....kapow!

Tycho dragged his hands down his face as he thought.

"Hmm...we need to get a better view of what we're dealing with. Right here, we can only see half of the puzzle." Tycho pensively ran a hand down the largest boulder.

"And how are we gonna do that?" Jonesy was under the distinct impression that Tycho wasn't referencing the exosuit.

"I think I have just the thing!"

The scientist bent down and unfastened the clasps of a small metal case he'd carried down from the carrier.

"Jonesy, meet Mini Max.”

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 29 - Reassure

Story so far

Sometimes the time to talk comes before you think you are ready. Sorry Virg.

Apologies in advance for the overuse of …

…

… I blame Virg’s half-drugged inner monologue. And also Alan.

💚💙❤️💛🧡💚💙❤️💛🧡💚💙❤️💛🧡

“It’s my fault Virgil got sick.”

To Scott’s credit the look of incredulity had passed very quickly and returned to concerned big brother as he prompted “what makes you think that?”

Alan was several sentences into his attempt to turn a confused childhood memory into a coherent narrative before Virgil suddenly realised he should have objected to that initial statement. Damn. Not that it would have made any difference, probably… a Tracy determined to accept blame was difficult to redirect… but it wasn’t a great look not to have disagreed at the outset.

Maybe he should say it now, just in case?

He sat up a little and opened his mouth but belatedly realised the rest of the family were now hearing about something deeply personal Virgil had hoped none of them would ever find out. Especially not Scott. He blushed, well aware that objectively his little coping mechanisms from that… time… could sound desperately unhinged, even before he got sick and he hadn’t even properly heard how Alan had described it so he could explain and damn he’d stopped listening again and Alan was still talking…

“… and of course I was a compete idiot wasn’t I because it wasn’t a ghost hug Virgil meant at all it was… more like a memory? Of a hug? And I knew I shouldn’t go in there but… but I missed him…” Alan suddenly looked back up at Scott who had frozen in place, both hands still wrapped around one of Alan’s eyes flicking between him and Virgil “… I mean you. I missed you too and I… thought maybe if…if I went in you’d come and I’d get a hug again as well but then… tried to balance the mug… so stupid and I ruined everything… and he… he looked so sad I couldn’t breathe. And then he got sick… so…”

Virgil just shook his head and moaned a little in lieu of speaking. His eyes were squeezed shut but could feel them all looking at him. He had to clear this up, he had to get his brain in gear. He focussed on the pressure of Alan’s skull against his clavicle and forced himself to lift his eyes to meet those of his older brother…

… who stared back at him, his face bewildered and bloodless. Scott’s lips parted as if to speak but he didn’t seem any more capable of forming words than Virgil did.

“It’s been you with the clothes!” Gordon suddenly burst into the awkward silence. “I was blaming Grandma…”

Alan flushed and looked down again.

“I just… didn’t know how to help and I hoped it might… help.”

Big brother mode re-engaged, Scott put a hand back on Alan’s arm and offered firm reassurance without moving his eyes from Virgil for a moment.

“It did.”

Alan nodded, then buried his face back into Virgil’s shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Virgil”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Allie.”

Virgil’s voice came out rather squeakier than he’d intended so he held his little brother close and swallowed hard.

He knew from observing both Scott and Gordon as they underwent therapy that it was supposed to be good to revisit this stuff - it was good to deliberately remember and to vocalise the things that haunted you… all of them. He’d reminded them often enough. Gordon had quite naturally found himself able to vent to Scott or to Virgil. Scott… well despite Virgil’s efforts he hadn’t let them in for a very long time, not until quite recently when circumstances forced his hand. Even now Virgil knew Scott’s instinct was to shield them from what was going on in his head, rather than let them help. But he had always spoken to his therapist and so Virgil had had to be content with that.

And Virgil had confided in… precisely nobody. Because really, compared to what they’d each been through... well. Dr Clifford had pointed out only a couple of hours ago that the same advice applied to him too - that eventually the acknowledging and the speaking would take the power of the memories away, the ones that lurked and gnawed at his very being.

But of all the times and places to start… the tiny incident Alan was torturing himself over was one of Virgil’s hardest moments. It had been the tipping point between the living nightmare he recalled and the one he… didn’t. The time reality caught up with him and he lost hope. The moment he had finally let go.

The moment he’d actually lost Scott.

And lost Virgil too.

But Alan didn’t know that, all the guilt-ridden child of his memories knew was he’d upset his brother, that after that Virgil hadn’t wanted to look after them anymore.

This really wasn’t the best time. He wasn’t quite sure he’d know how to put it into words when at his best and he definitely wasn’t. And he really, really needed to get this right. Because even putting therapeutic best practice aside, this wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about Alan, Scott… all of them.

“Ok. Ok, so… I guess I should explain some… uh… stuff.” Virgil’s voice was still shaky and he paused as he was suddenly hemmed in by a Gordon on one side and a John on the other. Scott dropped one of his hands from Alan’s to rest on Virgil’s foot. Thus surrounded, he found the words suddenly came a little easier.

“Allie… it really wasn’t your fault. Uh, I’m going to be honest, because you’re not an idiot but you have to hear me out… Right to the end, ok?”

Alan nodded and pressed the side of his face to Virgil’s chest. Scott hovered in front of him, looking stricken, but didn’t interfere.

“I still don’t remember a lot of it very well.” He used the back of his hand to wipe non-existent sweat from his forehead then ran his hand through his hair while trying to summon up the strength and focus to say this the right way.

“But I do remember that night quite clearly and, yeah I was… upset. Not with you, not really with you, but the circumstances and… yeah you’re right that was when I started to… lose my hold on… um, things.”

Alan closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Virgil’s shirt. Virgil watched his face for a moment, his heart squeezing as he noticed the depth of the shadows across his little brother’s cheekbones. He’d clearly been tormenting himself the last week or so and it had gone undetected. Cut from the same cloth as his eldest brother, said torment had clearly done a number on his sleep schedule.

“But, Alan you have to understand this, it wasn’t because of your little accident. If it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else… maybe something Dad said in passing, or something Gordon made for dinner, or looking at the colour of the sky and thinking how much Scott would have liked it.”

“But it WAS that. I made it happen. It was me messing up.”

“No, Allie, no. Listen to me, it happened… inevitably… because I wasn’t coping. I couldn’t do it. No, don’t look at me like that John, it’s true… I have a go at Scott for trying to do everything, be everything but I’m such a hypocrite because when it was my turn I tried to be Scott AND be Mom AND Dad all at the same time and I didn’t know how to… be me? Without…. Without Scott, you know? I didn’t give myself even a moment to work that out because I was scared I wasn’t enough on my own and so… I kind of pretended he was coming back still and it all had to be… ok… when he did come back… and so….” John’s fingers had tightened almost imperceptibly on his shoulder and with a little start Virgil realised he was still verbalising all these thoughts and everyone was looking at him.

He cleared his throat.

“Uh, anyway. The point is it wasn’t you, Allie. It wasn’t working. I was barely sleeping, wasn’t really eating. I knew it at the time but didn’t admit it because I thought I was letting Scott down… because I promised him to always look after you all, no matter what.”

There was a quiet moan from his older brother and Virgil suddenly had absolute clarity about what he was going to say next. Because Scott needed to hear this. They all did.

“The thing is Allie… the thing is… Sometimes people ask you to make promises that… aren’t fair. Promises that are so much bigger than they seem at the time. And when that person is gone, if the promise isn’t really possible… if it isn’t healthy to try to keep it… well... What I should have done is asked myself what Scott would have told me to do.”

He looked up and met his big brother’s eyes which were shining with unshed tears.

“You should have taken care of yourself! You shouldn’t have burned yourself out for me. I never wanted that, I never meant to ask that! I’m so sorry, Virgil.”

“I know you didn’t. And I should have then too, I was just too busy trying to do everything and be good enough to let myself think about it.”

Virgil waited, watching the emotions flicker across Scott’s face, wondering when the penny would drop. He’d know when it did, in some ways his brother would always be an open book to him.

Ever such a slight widening of blue eyes and then an almost but not quite concealed frown in his direction told Virgil his point had landed and that more words would inevitably be exchanged on the subject.

Later. He’d deal with that later.

For now, he could almost feel the adrenaline dissipating and for once he allowed himself to drift without complaint. He knew he couldn’t go far this time, grounded as he was by the not insignificant weight in his arms and held up by the unrelenting affection on every side.

[rei-ismyname]

HOUSE OF XCII Highlights

Towards the end of Krakoa the novel idea of a mini speed running the era in X-Men 92/TAS-style came together and it was pretty fun. Krakoa was full of characters that just didn't exist in 92 (or were dead, so some fancy footwork was required to dunk it in nostalgia while maintaining continuity and entertaining.

Assault on the Master Mold

These 90s mutants were wise enough to bring Magneto on the Mother Mold assault, and after everyone dies he easily crushes the base into nothing. Seriously, just send him in first. This base was actually a bunch of X-Men enemies like Trask and Wolverine spent too long quipping at him to prevent him pressing a single button - activating the ORCHIS protocols.

The Five resurrect folks with clothes on! Makes sense - 92 was way less horny than Krakoa (and was a children's cartoon.) Chuck is lying here. MotherMold destroyed, but they really needed to stop that button being pressed. How do they know about ORCHIS?

Everyone's fave mallrat

This lady. Jubilee has Moira's resurrective immortality abilities and she's hiding in a metal shack in a very public space on Krakoa. Her secret of not being dead etc will surely be uncovered soon. Also, Logan is literally standing outside it sniffing. Send him to stab a single feeble middle-aged man and he's useless, but he will sniff out your secrets just for kicks. Anyway, Moira Jubilee is pissed off at the helmet bros for Logan's blunder.

RADICAL! I like these data pages for how much work they do and the cowabunga style. I feel sorry for The Five having to work with Fabian Cortez though. These jokes are awful too.

If you kill your enemies, they stop being a problem.

X of Swords is recognisable but is over quickly. Arkon is the provocateur but Genesis here cuts his head off and reveals it was all her doing. To test Krakoa or something. She looks ridiculous. Just don't think about how much of Apocalypse's physicality is due to Celestial enhancements and what Genesis looking identical implies.

Ayyy, Polaris' hair is green!

Beast was one of the folks that died in X of Swords, and the Otherworld caveat applies to resurrection plus they become evil and immune to telepathy. Dark Beast comes back and highjacks all Sinister's schemes. Also, the first X-Men vote happens at the gala! I think that's Sunfire.

Yeah let's dig up Cody. See what that MF has to say.

Okay yeah there's confirmation. There's a lot of Easter eggs in 92, most of which are funny. Revealing what Logan is pissed off about would spoil the twist, but he's being a possessive dick over Jean. Scott is like 'she is a big girl who can make her own choices.' Sabertooth is doing his best to ruin everything.

They have Nimrod issues here too. I got a kick out of the setup wizard.

The coward dog Logan

Hard to believe this bunch of losers could cause Krakoa trouble, but you know the saying 'the X-Men always lose.'

The Inner Circle is the Quiet Council and this is their mixtape. Achy Breaky Heart? Come on! All in all it's a pretty funny mini. Definitely worth a read. The beats from the First Krakoan Age are all there but remixed into something a little different.

[femmmie]

Review of Smosh's Funeral Roast

I am harsh at times, but know it all comes from a place of love!

Spoilers under the cut

I live in Europe. This is relevant because of timezones: the funeral roast of Anthony Padilla was live at 6pm for them, meaning 3am for me. I am not the youthful insomniac I once was so I had to train my sleep schedule the entire week - otherwise I would miss it because I fell asleep. But I wanted to witness this live. I love smosh.

The trailer for this roast deserves an award: Ian and the cast have a movie night as suddenly the light turns blue and everyone but Ian freezes. He seems to know what's going on and discovers a zombie or ghost like Anthony levitating. The cast of the roast are all introduced and all play a gothic, churchy kind of character. See the full trailer here (it's currently at 666k views, how fun):

Around 1am I got impatient and decided not to wait for my alarm clock but to install myself on the couch, with a blanket and a scarf, and a hot cup of tea, god knows I would need it. I watched episodes of the Scott Pilgrim Netflix series to kill the time. The character Todd Ingram reminded me a lot of Anthony and I wonder whether Anthony has 'vegan superpowers' as well. Probably so.

Finally, the pre-show begins. This is pretty uneventful as they play a game and succesfully convince thousands of viewers to buy their tickets to the main show. I look at them. Everyone is gorgeous. But I can't look away from Ian and Anthony. And here is where I stray from actually reviewing the show to let my inner fangirl out: holy fuck they are hot. Me and my friends on tumblr have been making 'forgive me Father, for I have SINNED' jokes because his character, 'the pastor', just brings that out in people. We're not used to Ian in black, or in a robe, and he looks phenomenal. And then there is Anthony, clothed in a ridiculous Harry Styles-esque lace top with lace gloves, resting his head on Ian's shoulder. It's such a cute moment, Ian pushes him upright. He can be alive for a second before his funeral. My heart melts. Honerable mention: Courtney's bikini girl cleavage right behind Ian. The girls were ready to rock. Okay, okay, back to the review.

The room feels kind of small and a bit claustrophobic. The Smosh art dept. always steps up, so the stained glass "friendship never dies" high-five looks incredible, and the megachad-Anthony portrait hilarious. The casket is huge. But the props make the set look even smaller. I think the problem is the cameras. I realize how difficult camerawork is when you have multiple focus points to switch between, but next time they should do a lot of practice with this to streamline, to get everyone in the shot and better capture people's reactions to the roasts.

Ian walks in. He starts off with a bit about who Anthony is: a hot, hardworking guy with a big dick. Those are the main takeaways of his roasts.

Amanda is next. She looks beautiful but very wacky. Her deliverance and accent are stellar, though. She truly is top talent at Smosh. Her roasts are also some of the most scorching of the night. She doesn't shy away from calling out Anthony's past problematic behavior and less than stellar performance in the bedroom ("look it up!") She gets a round of applause and deservedly so.

Tommy follows with a kind of angry roast, and proceeds to read the will, from which nobody comes away unscathed. I feels like his words about Anthony supposedly hating the cast are a necessary evil. Just the same day Anthony posted his interview with Shayne on his personal channel. There we learned that Shayne didn't know before if Ian and Anthony actually had wanted to hire them. Anthony said they were very much involved, something I don't know whether to believe. As apparently, Ian never talked about it with Shayne either, for all those years. Shayne had also been very apprehensive when Anthony came back, not knowing what would happen and the first change was to boot the entire cast off the main channel. I feel like Tommy's roast puts the topic on the table and hopefully they will talk about it more until nobody has any doubt left.

Now I have to insert that one of my main critiques of the night is that lots of people both did a lot of obvious jokes (tattoos, leaving smosh, general appearance) and did not go hard enough. Anthony kind of has an awkward CEO vibe (he's not the ceo but still) about him that seems to make even the cast a bit wary of him. I had hoped for jokes about that.

Brandon Rogers is next and rightfully points out the lack of celebrities in the line-up. Doesn't Anthony have more friends who want to roast him? Either he doesn't or the rest of Smosh don't have access to them. Which is both fine, because it is a Smosh party after all.

Arasha comes in swinging with all kinds of Zoomer slang that I frankly don't understand but her deadpan delivery is like a breath of fresh air. She ends with a very nice message. That kind of undercuts her roasts though, I wish she would have been meaner.

Now it is time for the musical half-time show, which actually deserves its own review. Performed by Angela and Chanse, this is incredible. By far, the most professional part of the evening. These are no theater kids, as they still call themselves. These are Broadway acTORS! I was really taken away by their talent. Not only do they act, but they also sing amazingly? Did you hear Angela do screamo?! And Chanse's riffs? They pointedly mention the sexual tension between Ian and Anthony, both on- and off screen. This has been occupying my mind ever since. Wow, sorry I went fangirl-mode again. But the halftime show simply is that good. Keith makes an appearance at the end and brings the show back down to earth with his humor.

The biggest surprise guests are next in what I can only describe as Dan telling the horny tale of his years long obsession with Anthony, and the many, many times he unloaded on the 'sexy Anthony' calender (which is a real calender, I was there when it came out but was broke at the time, darnit). Dan and Phil have been shedding their PG personas on their own channels for a while now, but for those who don't watch them daily this December - they're doing gamingmas and it's chaos - it is shocking what X-rated stuff comes out of their mouths. Anthony is visibly taken aback. Good!

As the show progresses, Ian keeps moderating as the pastor. It is great to see him so in control and enjoying the roast of his best friend. The joke of Ian not being able to show his emotions comes up a lot, but today I see him mainly just having fun.

Of course, then there is Bikini Girl, whom I had high hopes for, maybe too high. She is hilarious, but nothing really stings. Courtney does also direct the whole show, so super kudos to her. I just don't think she has the best roasts. She is followed by Rhett and Link, who just do their regular thing. It is funny but not very original. You can only hear so many tattoo jokes before it gets old. We do see Link's bare torso, so a win for fangirls (gender neutral).

Then Shayne, or should I say the Chosen has his turn. He is absolutely in character and does great. I just don't know if the Chosen is the best person to deliver roasts. It feels more like a Shayne party than a roast of Anthony. Which enough people love all the same, I'm sure.

Angela is 'the vessel', a possessed girl, reading the roasts from the audience. These roasts are very mid (they should have included mine! /j), but her delivery is again stellar. Smosh is really lucky to have her.

And last but not least, Ian goes on a second roasting spree. Only, it isn't a roast? He just makes fun of Anthony’s baby picture and then proceeds to tell Anthony how grateful he is for him, how he's so glad they are friends again and that he loves him? Anthony is crying by this time, which makes the moment even more tender.

Of course, Anthony has to do a counter-roast. It is apparent that he is still affected by all the roasting or 'love-bombing' as Amanda calls it. And he's not as good at live comedy yet. Still, his jokes are funny and really in Anthony's own style. He concludes with Ian's quote of being happy to burn Smosh to the ground with him. I knew that quote would be ingrained in Anthony's mind. It was one of the sweetest things Ian had ever said to him, after all. Until Ian has now told him he loves him, of course.

And then it was 5 am. I got a healthy two hours of sleep in! I came away from this roast with a content smile and a full heart. This was well worth the ticket, the staying up late. I am happy to be a member and support them monthly, I've loved their humor even before they started their youtube channel. I love Smosh. I'm so happy that Anthony is back. Smosh is whole again. And it brings out that light in Ian's eyes. He is funny in an unhinged way again. I truly love Anthony and Ian and their dumb videos. I want them to continue to make them forever. These kinds of live shows are fun. But Ian and Anthony truly shine in their off the walls absurdist sketches.

Special shout-out to my bestie @only-frann who I could scream at this whole day.