#presenting the silliest gang ever

[tending-the-hearth]

Two-Bit: Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water? Ponyboy: Y-You were putting it in cold water???? Darry: Keith. Answer the question, Keith. Two-Bit: Yeah??? I thought for like five years that people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. Didn't realize there was an actual reason. Dally: You don't have the patience to microwave water for three minutes??? Sodapop: Why... are you putting it in the microwave to boil it? Dally: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove? Sodapop: It takes less than a minute. Steve: Soda, is your stovetop powered by the fucking sun? Sodapop: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove? Dally: Like seven minutes. Sodapop: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like two minutes, less than that if you use a saucepan. Johnny: Crying, you're putting the whole mug on the stove??? On medium heat??? Your stove is enchanted. Darry: Every single person in this gang is a fucking lunatic.

[kate-inhaler-1975]

I loved your last dad!Matty blurb so much that I couldn't help but spiral into thinking about Rosie and her relationship with her Uncle's.

Like, I need to know who her favourite is and all the little adventures they have 😭😭

Pls feed us I'm begging!!!

NEW DAD MATTY UNIVERSE BLURB TIME❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️

Now, where do I begin….RIGHT! COVID BABY!!!!

Even though Rosie was a Covid baby, Matty and George were in enough distance of each other to be able to sit in the garden or to have him talk through the window (you weren’t okay with ANYONE coming into the house because there’s no way you were risking lil Rosie getting Covid) so Rosie wasn’t shy when it came to George’s presence.

In those moments George was so riddled with pride because he convinced himself he was going to be her number one Uncle….but that was until Rosie was introduced to Ross 😭😭

Rosie and Ross, the two R’s, the best friends, the partners in crime. To Rosie, Ross is her best friend. Even when she grows up and she’s a teen, he’s always the one she runs to when she feels like she can’t tell you or Matty about something.

But now, in present day, they’re the sweetest and silliest little duo.

Rosie wants an ice cream?

He’ll buy her an entire ice cream van.

Rosie wants to have a sleepover?

He gets her favourite snacks and makes sure the spare room is full of Rosie’s favourite things and that she’s 110% comfortable.

And then Ross’ favourite thing to do?

Oh yeah, he LOVES and I mean LOVES telling Matty off if Matty ever has to tell Rosie off (which is very rare).

Ross does be like “Matty, shut up! She’s only little, and she doesn’t fully understand! Come on Ro, let’s get away from this evil man” and lifts her up and takes her to catering at whatever arena they’re at to get a lil treat because Matty made her cry LOL.

You think it’s hilarious but Matty is so unimpressed that Ross is painting him to be an “evil man” and he’s shitting bricks that Rosie will actually turn on him 😭😭.

She spends a lot of time with Adam as well, especially since herself and Baby Hann are so close in age. So there’s a lot of play dates, and now because of their ages they have sleepovers and it’s just so cute seeing them get along so well and it’s the best thing ever that they both can have a built in best friend their own age.

I know you didn’t mention it anon, but oh my god does she love feeling like a part of the girl gang when it comes to you and her aunties!!

She’s known Carly and Charli her whole life, so both you and Matty were a big apprehensive about how she would react to meeting Chloe for the first time, but all she did was stare at her in awe and then whispered to you shyly “she’s so beautiful, mummy” making your heart burst and making Chloe nearly cry when you told her later.

Rosie’s always coming to little brunch and dinner dates with you and the girls (unless it’s a boozy brunch, in that case she’s stuck playing mortal combat with her dad, uncles and Baby Hann) and Charli loves spoiling Rosie by taking her into the heart of London and taking her to little afternoon teas.

Just pure love and pure cuteness all round and the love between Rosie and her Aunties and Uncles are VERY mutual 😭🥰

[jammerskrik]

honestly I’ll never have a job as funny and wild as old 1950s cumbies. I think that’s probably the top silliest stupid job I’ve ever had. I had a coworker named kilfeather who was a late thirties obese literal fedora’d neckbeard, who unfailingly made the various (East Asian) women of Boston uncomfortable by being on brand to the point of addressing them as ‘M’lady,’ and split his time between manga and atheist reddit boards and masturbation. He gave his entire savings to The Occupy Movement, then rebuilt it only to then give it all to Bernie Sanders… he was Irish white trash from one of the most depressed towns in western mass, his parents were farmer-descended biker gang ppl that he dropped out of nineth grade to caretake once the cigarette genocide got them. He used to give me impassioned speeches about how the most important issue of our time is centering black and brown voices, and then, without fail, partially magic and partially because our boss was a black lady from Cali that hated most other African Americans, something beautiful and so fucking ironic and hilarious would happen.

Best was when we had to run down inventory to shut the gas station down around January 2019, our boss interrupted one of Kilfeather’s woke speeches about worshipping ppl darker than him to tell him to go clean out the little cup shed with me and Rokon, a banglandeshi indo-muzzy immigrant who at the time didn’t speak any English yet. Rokon began tossing all the spare foam coffee cup rolls out of the shed to me so I could bag them up, as Kilfeather waddled up through snowfall that was beginning to accumulate to watch us and, perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, resume his anti-racist speech.

About a minute later, Rokon had run out of cups and was suddenly madly pulling up endless flattened layers of shipping cardboard that had formed the flooring beneath the cup rolls, and I mean like decades of layers of flattened cardboard, the station was original from 1951 and the bottom decade or two had become dust and dirt. I stopped helping at my disgust threshold and just stood beside kilfeather in the snow watching R manically pry out every layer and heave it into a comically large pile as if his life depended on it until he suddenly froze. He stood there for a few moments, turned and looked at me n kilfeather, then smiled wide, disappearing into the small old shed like laughing, but a strange rare laugh to hear from a man like that; he squealed with absolute delight then vanished. Kilfeather looked at me like, what? does this mean??

But I didn’t get to reply because Rokon had emerged from the shed holding some kind of giant frozen tangled black disk about a meter in diameter. Kilfeather and I were both immediately instinctually repulsed though neither of us could really process what the disk was in that moment, as Rokon stood there dusted in snow and beaming… but we realised right as he spun around like a discus thrower, launching a massive frozen-solid City of Boston Real Life Rat King into Kilfeather’s face and chest.

There were two black crackheads from Kentucky who would stand outside the gas station like Jay and Silent Bob -style and by this point they were watching in the background, as was our boss. The Crackheads began heckling/roasting the fuck out of Kilfeather and calling him a faggot, and he let out a whine to our boss lady, to see if she could please make the addicts of colour stop calling him the f-slur. she was super Christian and super racist and she gracefully walked to Kilfeather through the snow and was like ‘well baby, I am worried that you never stand up for yourself, if Rokon hadda thrown that at me I wouldda whooped his ass to Death on the spot!’

idk cumbies was super funny

[angioislas]

“Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!” Season 2 (1970)

Directors: Joseph Barbera, William Hanna

Technique: “Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!” season 2 was shot in color with a 1.33: 1 aspect ratio in a 35 mm format. It had 8 episodes, each having a run time of about 20 minutes each.

Representation:

For this blog I watched 3 episodes of the second season of “Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?” that was aired on the 1970s, these episodes being “Nowhere to Hyde”, “Scooby's Night with a Frozen Fright” and “Don't Fool with a Phantom”. Each being in different circumstances but having the same end goal, to solve a mystery regarding a monster or ghost.

1.- “Nowhere to Hyde” starts by showing us Hyde, a ghost who terrorizes the city at night and steals valuable jewels, while running away from the crime he gets on the Mystery Machine leading to the gang finding him out and pursuing him to a mansion where they find the owner Dr. Jekyll and his maid Helga. As the gang investigates, they find a lot of evidence pointing to Helga until they find the most important piece, giving away to Dr. Jekyll guilt, helping them catch the ghost and solve the mystery.

2.- “Scooby's Night with a Frozen Fright” during a fishing trip Shaggy fishes out a huge block of ice with a caveman on the inside that they take to the local aquarium, Oceanland, where they meet Professor Ingstrom and Professor Wayne to which they give the caveman to. Sometime after leaving Shaggy notices, he had forgotten something in the aquarium making it necessary to return to it, when they arrive, they notice that the caveman had been freed, making the gang take action to find the roaming caveman who ended up being Professor Wayne who was looking to steal Professor Ingstorm´s new invention that allowed for anyone to communicate with sea life.

3.- “Don’t Fool with a Phantom” presents the gang having a dance contest on TV lead by Johnny Sands when suddenly they are interrupted by a ghost called the Wax Phantom giving an end to the contest destroying everything around and kidnaping Johnny Sands. Leading to an investigation on possible suspects these ones being Johnny Sands, and Mr. Grisby that after an argument with Johnny Sands promised to take his revenge. After a lot of investigation, the gang is able to capture the Wax Phantom who ended up being the TV manager who intended to run away to South America with the money he had stolen from the Johnny Sands Show.

All these animations depict The Mystery Gang which is conformed by Scooby-Doo, Shaggy Rogers, Velma Dinkley, Fred Jones, and Daphne Blake meanwhile also presenting us new characters every episode to push the narrative forward.

Reception:

Scooby-Doo as a whole was a total hit for Hanna-Barbara making for a great steppingstone for the company, it was numbered 49th on the “100 Greatest Cartoons” collection in the UK. The Scooby-Doo saga continues to move forward, growing and expanding in its stories.

Ever since I remember I have always loved Scooby-Doo, so rewatching these episodes gave me a lot of nostalgia together with the laughs I used to have back then about the silliest things.  Looking back on it I found more appreciation and understanding for some of its contents in different ways.

I found the specific episodes on Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! season 2 | Scoobypedia | Fandom and watched them on YouTube after.

References and sources:

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! season 2 | Scoobypedia | Fandom

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! | Scoobypedia | Fandom

List of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! episodes - Wikipedia

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You! (Western Animation) - TV Tropes

Scooby-Doo, ¿dónde estás? (Serie de TV 1969–1978) - IMDb

[chifuyuzu]

leap of faith — sano manjiro x reader.

word count — 1.3k.

genre — fluff fluff fluff, i love sweet mikey.

contains — cursing, timeskip SPOILERS present, reader is gender neutral.

description — sano manjiro is in love with you, and he realizes how much he loves you at the ass crack of fuckin' dawn.

author's note — hey besties, this is my first published fic here, kinda short but mikey brain rot is heavy. i hope you enjoy this cute fic before i rip your hearts out with some angst in a few days :^) reblogs and likes are always appreciated! and please give me feedback in my inbox! hehe, enjoy.

“it’s late.”

you know. but you still wanted to hear the sound of his voice before bed.

“mm… i missed ya’, is that a crime?” your voice echos through the receiver, the sound of your duvet crinkling in the background as you shift in place. sano manjiro was a busy man. always has been, always will be. being the leader of a biker gang was never easy—let alone some “new age” criminal organization.

you didn’t understand why manjiro persisted to play this game of russian roulette with his life. but it was never your place to overstep, especially since this was his life. it was all he knew, all he understood. you’re not sure what he’s doing, or if he’s even allowed to talk on the phone at this hour, but you still wanted to hear him. just so you know he’s alive and well.

you hear him chuckle, the sound of his feet scurrying against whatever floor his sandals were clacking against. the background noise that accompanied him earlier has dissipated; you realized he probably went outside to hear you better.

“your crime is loving a fool like me way too much. don’t think you’re sane.” he’s right. you’re actually crazy for even pursuing him. there was a lot of push and shove in the beginning, both parties scared of being hurt and getting hurt. but you were always there, even when manjiro went through whatever darkness was eating at his soul.

“crazy for you.”

“corny.”

“you love me.”

a pause. eerie enough to send shivers down your spine. why wasn’t he responding? did something happen? did you smother him too much? is he regretting—

“marry me.”

… not what you were expecting. especially not over the phone.

“sano manjiro, did you just propose over the phone? what kind of shitty rom-com are we in?”

“is that a no?”

“... never said that.” you wanted to marry him. but you wanted him to put that lifestyle behind, for the sake of the family you might have in the future. kids, dogs, cats, etcetera. you wanted him to be in, one hundred percent. but you knew he was too deep into this world to run now—especially since he’s so well-known as the ‘invincible mikey.’ you still longed for a happy home with manjiro, and a normal life.

“maybe you’re right. it’s not my style to ask you this over the phone.”

“try again later. when you’re really ready.”

the gag is, he is ready.

manjiro hurries home, blond locks hidden underneath a thin, black hoodie. he’s shaking, like a pomeranian in the presence of fireworks. his hand meets the left side of his chest, back pressed up against the grey colored wall of your shared apartment as he slides down to sit on the floor. it was four in the morning, and manjiro was about to shit himself.

he gulps, eyes peering around for you, double checking that you were fast asleep before he makes a phone call. his fingers tapped the back of his iphone, impatiently waiting for the other caller to answer. though it was the crack of dawn, he still needed some moral support.

“mikey? fuck you callin’ for at this hour? haven’t heard from you in mo—”

“ken-chin. i’m proposing.”

a loud ‘flop’ rang through the receiver, accompanied by the bedsheets seemingly slipping underneath draken’s feet. it was a huge bomb to drop, especially when the duo has been separated for months on end. manjiro hears more shuffling, followed by a few curses. “you’re fucking lying. the one you’ve been one since—?”

“yeah. i’m crazy as hell. but i love them. head over heels. i’m a goddamn simp.”

“why the hell am i the first to know, man?”

“you’re m’best friend, even if i need to stay away from you. and, also… you’re not the first to know. i asked them already.”

“you WHAT? don’t fuckin’ tell me you did it some dumb way like over the pho— you did. you’re impulsive enough to do it like that, too.” regardless of how long it’s been, draken still knows and understands manjiro like nothing ever happened.

“yeah… not romantic. but i can’t see myself with anyone else. i trust no one else. but i… am…”

“scared? man, you’re the head of a criminal organization. ‘course you’re scared. you don’t want the love of your life… to get hurt…” his voice trails off and manjiro’s heart tenses even more. the memories of the past still felt fresh. all the people they lost in tokyo manji… could never be replaced. not in a million years.

but the living must live.

“i love y/n. never felt like this before. i’d quit everything. but i would have to make sure they’re safe and whatever future we have together is secure. i know i promised takemichi that i’d protect everyone and that future he worked so hard to save… but what about mine?”

manjiro really did sacrifice everything for his friends. being the type of person who carries everyone else’s burdens takes a toll on his mental. he felt selfish for wanting to leave it all behind. but maybe being selfish was beneficial once in a while.

“listen—”

“do you think i’m stupid?”

“mikey. you’re not stupid,” draken sighs, shuffling again in place. “you just want to love someone and be loved in return. nothin’ stupid about that. what is stupid though, is you proposing over the damn phone.”

he’s not wrong. it was a spur of the moment decision that could drastically change his life forever. but with you, he doesn’t care. as long as you’re his, forever.

“how do you think i should do it?”

“well. i guess, tell me some sappy shit. how do you feel about them, and whatnot.”

“i don’t think i could ever imagine me with anyone else. a lot of people have tried to grab my attention but i only have eyes for y/n. sometimes when shit gets real hard…” manjiro takes a deep sigh, fingers threading through his hair, tilting back the hood to let it fall onto his back. “i think of y/n and i remember that even in this shit world, someone is here for me. someone cares about me. they make me feel like i’m not alone anymore.

i have dreams ‘bout us, y’know? me and y/n… kids running around. a little mikey clone. pissin’ them off because we want little flags on our meals. going to the park and letting kids be kids. maybe i’ll teach ‘em at a dojo like gramps did for me and my siblings. maybe i’ll teach ‘em about bikes—with your help, of course.”

draken laughs, letting his friend continue his little speech as he gets comfortable in bed again. don’t think i’ve ever seen mikey like this, ever, draken muses.

“man, we can own a whole zoo if we wanted. chifuyu could hook us up, in secret, of course. still have to protect everyone,” manjiro is grinning from ear to ear, head resting against the wall. “i wanna grow old with them. honestly, i didn’t think i’d make it to my twenties. more so, i didn’t want to live past twenty-something. but now… things are different. wanna be old and gray. see grandkids terrorize our children. die together.”

the tension in manjiro’s chest has faded away, only left with warmth that only you could bring him. his free hand reaches into his pocket to fumble with a small box, snapping it open to reveal the engagement ring his grandfather handed down to him.

he wasn’t the marrying type. but for you, he was.

“that all? you sound good like that, man. make an exception and let us come to the wedding.”

manjiro wants that more than anything. his friends, you... all safe. all happy. but again, the fear creeps up. he doesn’t know what to do with himself if any of you get hurt.

“... how do i tell y/n that?”

“you already have.” your voice makes him jump, knocking the velvet box out of his fingers and onto the hardwood floor. his face pales, followed by a huge lump forming at his throat when he sees your figure emerge from your shared bedroom.

“i-uh… i thought you were a-asleep.” manjiro mumbles, earning a huge laugh from draken on the other side. he hears him say something along the lines of ‘my cue to leave. good luck. send me an invite.’

“i was waiting for you.” 

he’s sweating now, a small bead forming at the base of his neck. his phone is now at his side, the screen flashing from draken’s caller id to the lockscreen photo of you on your first date together, a few years back. your eyes zone into the box, though.

“i was going to do this… better. god, i fucked up, huh?”

you’re laughing now, rubbing your tired eyes before you join him near the wall, picking up the box. “what makes you think that, dummy?”

now he’s confused. you wanted him to ask when he was serious, but in his head, serious meant rose petals, candles, someone singing celine dion in the distance.

without a word, you slip the ring onto its appropriate finger, holding up to the small rays of sunlight that peaked through the window from the approaching sunrise. manjiro’s hands fly up to your face, holding his whole world in his hands. his eyes are shiny, on the brink of tears. you nudge your noses together, foreheads connecting tenderly. your hands hooked onto the hem of his hoodie, bringing his frame closer as you whisper a soft ‘yes.’

“yes?”

“yes, i’ll marry you.”

manjiro’s lips curl up into the silliest grin you’ve ever seen him sport, before he presses a soft kiss to your lips. now he’s kissing you quite desperately. as if he’s trying to make sure you’re real, that this isn’t a dream. you feel his words vibrate against your lips, “gonna make you so happy, i promise. i love you. i love you so, so much.”

“forevermore.”

“forever yours.”

[desmondkane-of-ao3-fame]

Hey if skara and willow celebrate christmas, what would they do? Also im a huge skarlow fan as well^w^

Always love hearing questions from fellow huge Skarlow fans! It's always a delight.

As for the question, it's a bit out of season, but I love this idea a lot so I'll allow it!

The Boiling Isles doesn't really have a good equivalent to Christmas. The closest thing it does have is a Knabmas, a tradition where all the best thieves in Bonesburough steal as much stuff as they can in a single day (Eda is the only one who seems to know about this though, so the others take it with a molecule of salt). So, when the time finally comes, Luz excitedly introduces the Owl Gang to Christmas, her favorite holiday. She introduces them to everything, making a special point of explaining mistletoe and its own traditions (both Luz and Willow got a kick out of seeing their partners blush whenever the plant was around/whenever Willow made one). 

Willow would be all about the ugly sweaters. I mean, unironically. She’d see all the worst, silliest sweaters and immediately throw it on and show it off with pride. But Skara doesn’t mind, since Willow likes to throw the sweaters over both of them to cuddle.

Skara would play the HECK outa Christmas music, especially when she can perform a rock cover for it. Her rendition of Feliz Navida almost literally blew the Noceda’s roof off (Skara’s now only allowed to have her instruments at a noise level of ‘incredibly low’ in the Human realm). Willow loves to listen, though, and Skara always finds/makes up a new Christmas themed love song for her each day.

Luz’s favorite part of Christmas is explaining a tradition Camila brought from the Dominican Republic: 'Un Angelito,' or 'Little Angel'. Sorta like 'Secret Santa,' everyone picks a name out of a bag, and whomever they draw is their Angelito, who they secretly buy gifts for on Christmas. It's something Luz is super excited about, given that she's now able to do it with a whole bunch of found family members. Skara’s lucky enough to grab Willow, so with the 20 dollars Camilla gave her for the gift, Skara vowed to get her girlfriend the best present imaginable! And she does find something super cool! A beautiful, glass rose, kinda like the one in that Human movie Luz showed them, Beauty and the Beast! She want’s to give it to Willow as the perfect gift, and she’s lucky! It’s only... ten times what Camilla gave her.

Meanwhile, Willow actually got Amity, and decided to buy her a new toy for Ghost. Unfortunately, Willow couldn’t afford much else she thought Skara would really want, like a new instrument or tool for one. The best she could do was a signing card, one that played some song, Happy Birthday? Whatever it was, it seemed just silly enough for Skara to like it. She felt a little guilty about it, but vowed she’d get Skara something better back on the Boiling Isles.

Later that evening, Skara decided to try and buy that rose for Willow! So, she decides to try something else she’s seen in human Movies: street performing. While preparing to sneak out after dinner, though, Gus spotted her. When Skara explained the situation, though, he was more then happy to help. He didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Skara, and if it would help Willow out too, what’s wrong with that? So, the two sneak out near the mall and work together, using Skara’s music and Gus’s illusions to try and earn the money for the rose. The two watch the money get thrown into Skara’s guitar case, and soon Skara proudly buys the glass rose for Willow! She rushes out of the mall to wrap it up at home... and trips on the way their. It crashes onto the ground, shattering into a billion tiny shards. Skara’s devastated, and she and Gus slink home to crawl into bed, now without any gift for Willow.

A short time later, Christmas day, and everyone opens their presents: Luz got Hunter a sleeping mask (’for when he ever decides to try it’ she jokes), Hunter gives Vee a set of non-magical tarot cards (Vee has a few dozen from their gf but she’s still happy with it), Vee got Gus a book on giraffes, Amity gave Luz a little stuffed otter (with a dark side). It’s an amazing day. But Skara doesn’t really have anything to give Willow, and she feels ashamed. Until she opens her gift, from Gus: all the tiny shards of the glass rose and it’s case, attempted to be forced together through magic and a little bit of human glue. He didn’t really know what else to get Skara, so he threw his own 20 into the case. But when he saw how devastated Skara was, he vowed to fix it, trying his darndest from it’s shattering till Christmas to fix it. So Skara hands the gift to Willow.

And it immediately shatters again.

Skara’s heartbroken and feels terribly about how much she’s wasted both Gus and Willow’s time. She decides she’ll just go off to bed until Willow stops her to give her the card she bought. Despite everything, Skara looks at the silly card with its silly song and laugh. She’s grateful for letter, something Willow’s ecstatic to hear, and Skara hugs Willow and kisses her face a thousand times over. She comes back and hugs Gus as a ‘thank you’ as well.

Later, during an After Christmas sale, Skara is able to use the extra money from the rose to buy Willow and herself a pair of ugly matching sweaters, which earned her a little mistletoe over her head by Willow.

Bonus stuff: Like all sane people, both girls love hot chocolate, and make a point to always drink it together. Skara likes to stir a candy cane in hers a bit before sipping, a trick Luz taught her.

Hunter, Vee, and Gus counted who had to pick up the most of Willow’s mistletoe’s during the Christmas season. In the end, Hunter had to take care of 12, Vee 15, and Gus 21.

Luz gave Skara a cute little elf hat as a gift. She didn’t think much of it, but whenever she wore it around Willow, the Plant Witch would get flustered and silly. Given the fact that’s usually Sakra’s job, she took a bit of pleasure in making her girlfriend feel that way by putting it on randomly.

Amity was super happy to give Ghost the little mouse toy Willow bought them, but they were confused by how he seemed to just lazily roll around, sleep, and eat a bunch after playing with it...

[kurosaki]

10 Characters Tag

Tagged by: @dialovers-translations Thank you so much, I really appreciate it! 💜

Rules: make a new post, name 10 of your favorite characters from 10 different fandoms that you like, and then tag 10 people.

1. Ruki Mukami — Diabolik Lovers

I will say this now, I love Ruki, Subaru, Shu, Carla and Yuma equally. I genuinely cannot chose between them because I love them so dearly and bring me so much comfort during a lot of stressful situations. I decided Ruki since we both share a similar tragic backstory of being abandoned by their parents and I feel he would understand me the most. I'm also attached to Ruki because of our shared passion for literature. I also really love the way Ruki presents and carries himself, he's so... regal? elegant? The Mukami brothers have such an emphasis on found family and strong bond, I'm a sucker for that as well especially for all the advice Ruki gives his brothers not only in his own, but all his brothers' routes.

2. Shin — Amnesia

Admittedly when I first played Amnesia, I picked Shin because I'm a sucker for goths. After playing his route I fell absolutely in love, I actually cried multiple times during his route. The only other time that happens is when I play DL. *sobs* I didn't expect Shin to have such real struggles and such love for the player (despite him being so grumpy, but honestly it's adorable). I cannot stress how well written his character is. I love him so much, it's late at night and I shouldn't get emotional over otome games, but Shin just gets me.

3. Mitsuri Kanroji — Kimetsu no Yaiba

MITSURI IS MY BI GIRLFRIEND I ADORE HER SO MUCH. Thank you KNY for allowing my love to have a boyfriend AND girlfriend who love her so very much. (Shoutout Shinobu and Obanai) Mitsuri's design is what immediately drew me to her. She is so bright and warm and personally I think braids are the absolute cutest (ESPECIALLY WITH DUAL TONED HAIR)

4. Ishtar — Fate/GO

There are a lot of FGO ladies (and Merlin) that I adore, but Ishtar will always be my favorite. I first got introduced to her through FGO's summer event years ago and I absolutely adored the chaotic energy she had in the story. After that I decided I would continue playing FGO and I've been stuck here ever since :•) The FGO Babylonia anime also portrayed her so well, I loved seeing how animated and vibrant she is!

5. Ares — Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War

Mutuals know I am a big FE4/5 elitist, I'm sorry for my hubris, but Ares Hezul Nordion Fire Emblem, please sir... your hand in marriage. I absolutely loved this man in my FE4 play throughs. He is a killing machine, when he got into FEH I was so happy, his new art? Stunning. I hate the app and what it did to the Jugdral series, but the Nordion Family art is superb. I loved his story in FE4 and the growth and healing he goes through after meeting Seliph, the narrative genuinely touched my heart. I want to put the entire FE4/5 cast on this list.

6. Asbel — Fire Emblem: Thracia 776

I. Love. My. Son. So. Much. Just like Ares, Asbel is an absolute killing machine. He genuinely saved my life in FE5 so many times, even after many sleepless nights and strategizing. I genuinely feel like I owe my B ranking in Thracia to Asbel. His love for Leif makes me want to cry, I'll never forget “We swore to each other that we would live and die together, Lord Leif ... Let's reclaim Thracia. I'm willing to go through anything for that cause!”

7. Lillie — Pokemon Sun/Moon

Lillie is the best daughter I swear! I adore her and the entire Sun/Moon anime and cast! Although Hoenn is my favorite because of nostalgia, Alola is a close second and I will genuinely say it was the best anipoke. It featured so much growth, not only for Ash, but for Lillie and the rest of the Alola gang as well. I relate to Lillie's relationship with her mother as well, you have no idea how happy it made me seeing the “I hate you mother!” scene animated. I'm Lillie's mom now. That's final.

8. Pripara — Sophie Hojo

If I had to recommend an anime to anyone, it would be Pripara. It's the most silliest idol anime I've ever watched and definitely directed to children, but I love how inspirational it is to kids. It's the kind of show I wish was there for me as a child, but I'm so happy younger kids get to have these positive messages and life lessons. Sophie is very dear to me, she showcases that self growth can be taken at a steady pace and there's absolutely no rush to growing and being able to learn how to take care of yourself.

9. Rem — Re:Zero

It has honestly been years since I've read Re:Zero and couldn't tell you anything besides the basic plot, but I absolutely adore Rem. I was drawn to both Rem and Ram based on their designs, but the more I watched the show, the more I got attached to Rem. Her smile is such a blessing, every time I see it, just an immediate dose of serotonin.

10. Cloud Strife — Final Fantasy VII

This guy... this guy right here... I just think he's really neat! Admittedly, all my FFVII lore information comes from my girlfriend. I want to play FFVIIR once I'm able to visit my little brothers and borrow their PlayStation (they got the PlayStation, I got the Switch) SO HOPEFULLY I GET TO MEET HIM SOON! I've heard a lot about him from friends and mutuals I just got attached. He's pretty cool :)

Tagging: I physically cannot tag other people because of anxiety, but if you want an excuse to talk about your favorite characters please feel free to say I tagged you :3

[freedomartspress]

Three Poems — Tongo Eisen Martin

Kick Drum Only

All street life to a certain extent starts fair

Sometimes with a spiritual memory even

Predawn soul-clap/ your father dying even

Maybe I’ve pushed the city too far

My sensitivities to landfill districting and minstrel whistles/

White supremacist graffiti on westbound rail guards 

-all overcome and reauthored

The garbage is growing voices

Condensed Marxism 

modal gangsterism for a warrior-depressive

Underpass in my pocket

because I am a deity

or decent bid on the Panther name 

revolutionary violence that chose its own protagonists 

or muted stage of genius

A merciful Marxism        

Disquieted home life 

Or metaphor for relaxing next to a person 

Who is relaxing next to a gun

I stare at my father for a few seconds 

Then return to my upbringing

Return to the souls of Ohio Black folks

Revolution is damn near pagan at this point

You know what the clown wants? The respect of the ant. 

Wants a pen cap full of bullets

Wants to see their ancestors in broad daylight

I am not tired of these rooms; just tired of the world that give them a relativity 

My only change of clothes prosecuted

The government has finally learned how to write poems

shoot-outs that briefly align…

that make up a parable

white bodies are paid well, I posit

do white men actually even have leaders?

all white people are white men

white men will only ever be metaphors

all I do is practice, Lord

A rat pictures a river

Can almost taste the racial divide

Can almost roll a family member’s head into a city hall legislative chamber

Knows who in this good book will fly

I have decided not to talk out of anger ever again, Lord

Met my wife at the same time I met new audience members for our pain

We passed each other cigarettes and watched cops win

A city gone uniquely linear

Harlem of the West due a true universe 

 “I will always remember you in fancy clothes,” my wife said 

so here I sit… twisting in silk ideation

  My rifle made of tar

My targets made of an honest language

This San Francisco poetry is how God knows that it is me whining 

Writing among the lesser-respected wolves

Lesser-observed militarization

Dixie-less prison bookkeeping/I mean the California gray-coats are coming 

lynch mob gossip and bourgeois debt collection

I mean, it’s tempting to change professions mid-poem

in a Chicago briefing, a white sergeant saying, “blank slate for all of us after this Black organizer is dead.”

standard academics toasting two-buck wine at the tank parade

bay of nothing, Lord

  nuclear cobblestones, gunline athleticism  

and the last of the inherited asthma

children given white dolls to play with and fear

facial expressions borrowed from rich people’s shoe strings

I can hear hate

And teach hate

And call tools by people names

And name people dead to themselves

no one getting naturalized except federal agents soon 

carving the equator into throats soon

I’m sorry to make you relive all of this, Lord

pre-dawn monarchy 

friends putting up politician posters then snorting the remainder of the paste

minstrel scripts shoveled into the walls by their elders

my children sharpening quarters on the city’s edge

For these audiences

I project myself into a ghost like state

For these gangsters, I do the same

every now and then, we take a nervous look east

Sleep becomes Christ

Sleep starts growing a racial identity

do you ever spiral, Lord?

has the gang-age betrayed us?

be patient with my poems, Lord

So much pain

there is a point to crime… 

There has to be if race traitors come with it

 Lord, is that my revolver in your hand?

Better presidents than these have yawned at cages

Have called us holy slaves

Filled the school libraries with cop documentaries

Baby, I don’t have money for food

I have no present moment at all

/

I Do Not Know the Spelling of Money

I go to the railroad tracks

And follow them to the station of my enemies

A cobalt-toothed man pitches pennies at my mugshot negative

All over the united states, there are

Toddlers in the rock

I see why everyone out here got in the big cosmic basket

And why blood agreements mean a lot

And why I get shot back at

I understand the psycho-spiritual refusal to write white history or take the glass freeway

White skin tattooed on my right forearm 

Ricochet sewage near where I collapsed 

into a rat-infested manhood

My new existence as living graffiti 

In the kitchen with

a lot of gun cylinders to hack up

House of God in part

No cops in part

My body brings down the Christmas 

The new bullets pray over blankets made from old bullets

Pray over the 28th hour’s next beauty mark

Extrajudicial confederate statue restoration 

the waist band before the next protest poster 

By the way,

Time is not an illusion, your honor

I will return in a few whirlwinds

I will save your desk for last

You are witty, your honor

You’re moving money again, your honor

It is only raining one thing: non-white cops

And prison guard shadows 

Reminding me of

Spoiled milk floating on an oil spill

A neighborhood making a lot of fuss over its demise

A new lake for a Black Panther Party

Malcom X’s ballroom jacket slung over my son’s shoulders

Pharmacy doors mid-slide

         The figment of village

                     a noon noose to a new white preacher

Wiretaps in the discount kitchen tile

-All in an abstract painting of a president

Bought slavers some time, didn’t it?

The tantric screeches of military bolts and Election-Tuesday cars

A cold-blooded study in leg irons

Leg irons in tornado shelters

Leg irons inside your body

  Proof that some white people have actually fondled nooses

That sundown couples 

made their vows of love over   

opaque peach plastic

and bolt action audiences     

Man, the Medgar Evers-second is definitely my favorite law of science

Fondled news clippings and primitive Methodists 

My arm changes imperialisms 

Simple policing vs. Structural frenzies

Elementary school script vs. Even whiter white spectrums

Artless bleeding and

the challenge of watching civilians think

     “terrible rituals they have around the corner. They let their elders beg for public mercy…beg for settler polity”

“I am going to go ahead and sharpen these kids’ heads into arrows myself and see how much gravy spills out of family crests.”

Modern fans of war

    What with their t-shirt poems

    And t-shirt guilt

And me, having on the cheapest pair of shoes on the bus, 

I have no choice but to read the city walls for signs of my life

                                                                                     /

The Chicago Prairie Fire

First, I must apologize to the souls of the house

I am wearing the cheek bones of the mask only

Pill bottle, my name is yours

Name tagged on the side of a factory of wrists

Teeth of the mask now

Back of the head of the mask now 

        New phase of anti-anthropomorphism fending for real faces

Stuck with one of those cultures that believes I chose this family

I am not creative

Just the silliest of the revolutionaries

My blood drying on 

   my only jacket

just as God got playful

the police state’s psychic middlemen

Evangelizing for the creation of an un-masses 

An un-Medgar

Blood of a lamb less racialized

or awesome prison sentence

Good God

Elder-abuse hired for the low

dog eat genius

Right angle made between a point

On a Louisiana plantation

And 5-year old’s rubber ball 

3 feet high and falling

like a deportee plane 

to complete my interpretation 

(of garden variety genocide) 

I am small talk

about loving your enemies

A little more realistically

About paper tigers 

And also gold…

I need my left hand back 

I broke my neck on the piano keys

Found paradise in a fistfight

Maybe I should check into the Cuba line

Watching the universe’s last metronomes

some call Black Jacobins

Just wait…

These religions will start resigning in a decade or two

Some colorfully 

Some transactional-ly

In a cotton gothic society

Class betrayal gone glassless/ I mean ironically/ my window started fogging over too 

Wondering which Haiti will get me through this winter

Which poem houses souls

Which socialist breakthroughs

Breakthroughs like ten steps back

Then finally stillness

Stillness

Then stillness among families

a John Brown biography takes a bow

I’m up next to introduce Prosser to Monk

I remember childhood

Remember the word “Childhood” being a beginning 

Scribbling on an amazing grace 

I rented this body from some circumference of slavery

Remember being kicked out of the Midwest

Strange fruit theater

Lithium and circuses

Likeminded stomachs 

The ruling class blessing their blank checks with levy foam…

                            with opioid tea 

Sentient dollar bills yelling to each other pocket to pocket

Cello stands in the precinct for accompanying counterrevolutionaries 

My mother raised me with a simple pain

A poet loses his mind, you know, like the room has weather

Or first-girlfriend gravity

Police-knock gravity 

Mind-game gravity

Or revolution languishing behind 

The sugar in my good friend’s mind

“The difference between me and you

Is that the madness

Wants me forever”

A pair of apartments

Defining both my family

And political composure

Books behind my back

Bail money paved into the streets

Playing:

Euphoria

Euphoria

Cliché

Bracing for the medicine’s recoil

Sharing a dirty deli sandwich with my friends

Black Jacobins

Underground topography

Or grandmother’s hands

Psychology of the mask now

Teeth of the mask again

—

Originally from San Francisco, Tongo Eisen-Martin is a movement worker and educator who has organized against mass incarceration and extra-judicial killing of Black people throughout the United States. His latest curriculum on extrajudicial killing of Black people, We Charge Genocide Again, has been used as an educational and organizing tool throughout the country. His book of poems, Someone’s Dead Already was nominated for a California Book Award.

[beesmygod]

this is what riverdale is about (part 6)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

and now...we come to the end of our journey...the final 4 episodes of the season. who killed jason blossom? you forgot that’s what we were doing, huh. you  were way too distracted by sex archie and the jughead/betty relationship (called ‘bughead’ in universe). 

i have a friend who has been watching riverdale because i have basically tricked him into doing so and frankly, what i am typing here was and is only the surface of this show’s nonsense. as he watched episodes, he reminds me of all the completely bananas shit that this show throws at you literally every second it is on screen and honestly its a relief to know that, as much as i can try to just give you some basic facts, watching the show itself is still a totally different transcendent experience. its really the only show of its kind; shamelessly stupid but unaware of it while openly delighting in all the silliest cliches presented as straight faced as possible. if these write up do anything for you at all, please, please. watch the show. you will be shocked at how much more there is to discover.

images are from the riverdale wiki

---

SEASON 1 (PART 4): 

the lost weekend: this is the one with a very special guest star in it: molly ringwald as archie’s mom! she and fred (luke perry) have been separated for some amount of time for an unknown reason. yay she’s so cute! i love her. oh uh, also they’re getting a divorce. the papers are going through. archie gets the bad news in the middle of a gaming sesh with jughead.

meanwhile, veronica meets with her dad’s lawyer (whose name is paul sowerberry?? he never shows up again despite his unbelievably silly name) and tells him she’s not giving him a good statement as to her father’s character to help him get a lesser sentence. “fuck you dad!” is the general sentiment before she stomps out to go to school.

oh man there’s a weird aspect of this show that i have neglected to mention. this isn’t something i’ve ever experienced in school so it was totally foreign and weird to me but the students have their own lounge that they mingle and talk in...at...some point during the school day?? jughead’s opening monologue of this episode makes great pains to talk about how every moment of their lives are scheduled from 8am to 3pm but there’s apparently plenty of sittin’ time where they can just laze about this random room talking about crimes they have or are going to commit. a great deal of talking happens in this room when usually you’d have to like, sneak a convo while getting shit out of your locker between classes. i dunno, it’s weird. this is where archie tells veronica about clifford blossom sending her dad to jail so he can jack the land everyone is fighting over.

archie and betty make plans to celebrate jugheads birthday by taking him to the movies, which i feel like is in poor taste given his movie house was just destroyed but whatever. with betty coming along it’ll be just like the three muskateers! betty replies “AcTuAlLy ThErE wErE fOuR mUsKeTeErS” and somehow he doesn’t beat her to death with his bookbag right there and then. betty then doubles down on the bad words flowing out of her mouth and proposes they hold a surprise party for jughead since, according to his dad, he’s never had one. i have no idea what would compel her to think he would want this. even i know he doesn’t want this and i only know him through a tv screen. on top of this she goes out of her way to invite his deadbeat alcoholic dad multiple times. i thought she was supposed to be the smart, observant nancy drew type but like...what the fuck betty. jughead does, in fact, get pretty pissed at archie just for telling his girlfriend that he even has a birthday. presumably instead of telling him he emerged fully formed from the leader of the black parade’s forehead.

after finding out from some files that her dad was receiving money monthly from clifford blossom for some unspecified reason before the arrest, veronica challenges cheryl to a dance off and wins. unfortunately, veronica cant come forward with what she knows because it would make it look like her dad put a hit out on jason in retaliation. dance off to relieve the pain.

jughead fucking hates his party and makes sure everyone knows it. this is something NORMAL people do and he is NOT normal!!! he leaves the party in a huff when cheryl shows up to get her dance off revenge by ruining the party by inviting the whole school. this is the episode where he does his famous “im a weirdo, i have a hat” speech, which is deliciously dumb. they get in a fight, while jughead’s dad talks to kevin’s boyfriend (who you will remember is a member of his gang he assigned to keep tabs on the progress of the teens looking into the whole land plot mess) while betty’s mom secretly listens in?!

cheryl activates chaos mode and locks everyone in the house so they can play a game called “secrets and sins” which is really just an excuse for her to ask everyone horrible questions to make them feel bad. veronica accuses cheryl of fucking her brother, dilton doiley tells everyone about grundy’s statutory rape of archie andrews and chuck tells everyone about dark mode betty drugging him for an impromptu bdsm session which causes jughead to go apeshit and try to throw a weak little baby punch. jughead’s dad, as the only adult who for some reason let all this happen, finally throws everyone out and tells them to go home.

archie and veronica sleep together, by which i mean, next to each other in the same room. veronica testifies on her father’s behalf and discloses to betty the link between jugheads dad and the serpents and her dad’s land plot dreams. molly ringwald appears for 20 seconds.

INHALES. OKAY.

to riverdale and back again: its homecoming babey! archie’s very supportive mother has a nice talk with him. :) veronica founds out that her dad only has to serve “a few more months” in prison for his various white collar crimes, further proof that riverdale takes place in america. jughead and his dad have a nice normal breakfast while fp sweats and asks him “hey uh, how come uh you’re writing about the uhhhh murder and investigating it and stuff” like a normal dad would. archie and veronica tentatively agree to start going out. 

penelopy blossom brings polly (betty’s pregnant sister, remember her? i didn’t) a strawberry milkshake in the most ominous way possible. veronica plans to sneakily find out if jughead’s dad is helping her own and for what purpose, ultimately. jughead accepts and invite to betty’s house for dinner, not knowing her mom is going to grill the shit out of him and his dad over the whole kid murder thing.

polly finds the ring jason proposed to her with back in penelope’s room while snooping, and has no idea how it wound up back in the hands of his mother. according to penelope, jason threw it in their face when he renounced his lineage, then gives her another milkshake.

the cooper family event is disrupted when betty, wise to her mother’s horseshit, invites her estranged dad to dinner too. all hell breaks loose when the subject of homecoming comes up and fp reveals that while alice and hal were crowned homecoming king and queen, they got in a knockout, drag-out fight backstage. alice flips out before he can reveal what it was about and betty and jughead flee for the dance. meanwhile archie and veronica try, and fail, to find something incriminating in fp’s trailer.

cheryl discovers the milkshakes are DRUGGED and polly is going to sleep through homecoming. she informs her parents that she has disposed of the ring (evidence) and they dont have to worry about it anymore. you can see where this is going.

jughead’s dad drops a bomb on him right before homecoming that they’re going to move to toledo to meet up with jughead’s mom and baby sister. jughead hates this bc he just got used to betty and he wants to write his murder book.

archie and veronica sing a truly terrible cover of “kids in america” that has to be seen to be believed.

meanwhile, sherrif keller tears up fp’s house with a search warrant and finds the gun that was used to kill jason blossom. WHAAAA??? BUT ARCHIE AND VERONICA JUST SEARCHED IT??? how could this happen.....jughead finds out about the web of deception weaved by the friends and tells them all to fuck off so he can go to toledo with his family. jughead literally turns around and is informed that his dad was just arrested for murder. his life is so hilariously bad.

the sheriff sucks so bad at his job because he tells his gay son everything who then spills the beans to archie and co (sans jughead) who learn that fp is being framed, because they already tossed the place before.

cheryl has the ring. at this point none of these things mean anything.

i cant believe i still have two more of these. i’m going to have to split this post after this one.

anatomy of a murder: as it turns out, archie discovers, information you discover during a breaking and entering won’t hold up in court. oops. meanwhile fp inexplicably confesses to kidnapping jason after his fake drowning at sweetwater river so he could use him as ransom after discovering he heir to all that sweet maple syrup money. according to fp, jason nearly escaped so they cut their losses and blasted a hole in him. he also confesses to torching the car and stealing the sheriff's files (which we, the audience, know hal cooper did, not fp). well. that’s that, i guess.

betty’s dad comes back to the family home to destroy the murderboard evidence all like “whoo hoo! fp took a bullet for me!” hal’s concern and his reason for stealing the files in the first place, as it turns out, was because the feud between the coopers and the blossoms is more complicated than we thought. the coopers WERE blossoms, until grand-pappy was murdered, so they packed their shit and left with a new name. so that makes polly and jason related. cool!

fp apparently used his his last phone call to call kevin’s boyfriend who, after some pressing by the gang, admits that while he didnt see fp pull the trigger, he did help him put jason’s body in a freezer. this tip leads them to the corpse of a serpent who had a sack of money in a monogrammed dufflebag with the initials “h.l.” (hiram lodge). this is a comically dumb move for a crime boss to make. it is shockingly stupid.

joaquin tells kevin about a secret stash he and fp set up before he bounces from town forever because riverdale sucks. in the stash is jason’s jacket. everyone puzzles over what it means until betty, noted brain genius checks the pockets. in it they find a usb drive.

they sit down and watch the usb and react like they’re watching a sad documentary and not a snuff film. betty calls CHERYL OF ALL PEOPLE and tells her what they just saw on the usb. cheryl, queen of chaos, confronts her dad and tells him that everyone knows what he did.

it turns out the video depicts jason tied up in the basement of the whyte wyrm, there the dead serpent watches over him. clifford blossom walks in and blows a hole in his kid. fp confessed to protect jughead, who was threatened by cliff as the heat poured on.

clifford dies surrounded by his greatest love, maple syrup, by hanging himself in the syrup barn. lol

the sweet hereafter: how the fuck is there another episode of this? they solved the murder, what else could there possibly be to do. wtf. anyway.

the cops find hella drugs in the maple barn after clifford’s death. the assumed story is that jason learned about his dad’s heroin smuggling business and threatened to tell the cops on his dad which lead to his abduction, and eventual death. i guess the polly thing is in here too somehow. not important i guess. the lodges prepare for hiram’s arrival. betty and archie are going to be honored by the mayor for cracking the case at the 75th annual jubilee (wtf). hermoine attempts to buy fred out of the project now that the cops are cracking down on the serpents and making them the face of the construction company is now a very bad look.

betty tries to write an article for the town paper about fp being innocent but her parents wont publish it, citing it as a conflict of interest given she’s smooching the subject’s son. jughead FINALLY JUT NOW gets a social worker who realizes that fred has a dui and is not fit to care for a kid. he has to transfer to a new school district...SOUTHSIDE HIGH SCHOOL!!!

cheryl apologizes for throwing hands at jughead in a previous ep and gives him her iconic spider brooch. i am only bringing this up because she says, specifically, that selling it will net him a good amount of hamburgers and “s t-shirts” for years. why is she the only one who notices he only wears one kind of shirt. betty’s article getting published in the school paper leads to the above retaliation.

veronica’s mom honest to god asks her to sexually manipulate archie into convincing his dad to sell the project to her.

betty’s mom, after a confrontation, tells betty abt the fight she and her dad had on homecoming night when they were high schoolers. turns out...alice was pregnant. she gave the baby up for adoption after she went to the sisters of quiet mercy, like she did with polly, even though hal wanted an abortion. betty immediately tells all her friends this shit.

jughead transfers to the new high and flourishes. turns out they’re all baby gangsters there so they look at him and his dad as kings to be admired. when the archie group heads off to go rescue him, it turns out they dont need to do anything. but now that theyre all conveniently together, veronica gets a txt from cheryl saying she’s going to go be with jason....

they rush to the river where cheryl is having her ophelia meltdown in his stupid little river boat dress where she punches through the ice until she falls through. theres no way to describe how silly this scene is unless you see it so i won’t try but its so melodramatic and cheesy that youre going to be amazed that it got through the writing team at all. archie saves her by punching through the ice the other way. from under the ice. you will soon find, that all of archie’s solutions are to punch things.

betty does a speech at the jubilee that convinces fred not to sell. a nice ending for him.

meanwhile cheryl burns her fucking house down for a lark. just for the drama of it all. 

the same night, jughead and betty start to fuck, as do veronica and archie. not int he same room, like totally separately. but jughead is interrupted by the serpents and a dog named hotdog, who give him a jacket of his own so he can join the team. betty is scandalized.

archie goes to meet his father for a breakfast at pop’s chocklit shoppe for a serious talk. but while he’s int he bathroom, a man with a gun is holding up the chocklit shoppe. he demands fred’s wallet, then pops a hole in him and runs off.

and that.........is where this season......ends.

---

thank you for joining me for season 1 of this shitshow. i love this shitty show. if you loved reading about it, or were mortified by whatever the fuck happened here, then you should watch it as well.

i never pass up an opportunity to shill myself, so if you like what i write, drop me a buck or two at my patreon. i do more writing like this, but also i mostly make comics, so make sure to read the page when you’re signing up so you know what you’re getting!

i WILL return...with season...2!

https://www.patreon.com/aghoststory

[nezanie]

Remembrance

Summary: Catra's acclimatizes to life at Bright Moon and plays a playful prank on two unsuspecting princesses. The queen remembers and sees the image of a good old friend in the girl.

Fic live on Ao3 and Patreon

Pairing: Glimatradora (fluff!)

xxx

Catra didn’t like to wear her heart on her sleeves, she played with words and slipped around the people closest to her which meant she usually managed to evade any concerns. Theirs and her own.  Adora was easy to please but relentless never one to give up. She stuck close to her and her support was both endearing and somewhat cumbersome. Catra struggled to get used to the soothing atmosphere in the bright moon castle. Often the tension of war was palpable and to the ex-horde soldier a comfort at times. She did feel a little bit guilty about that, years of training and familiarising with weapons and warcraft couldn’t just be forgotten. Even Adora would sometimes slip back into the exercise drills when left to herself and admittingly Catra would join her more often than not for some semblance of normalcy she was used to, in a vain attempt to keep up with all the changes around them.

Time was not on their side though, Hordak lost his second in command, and fortified his defense and soon would double his efforts to take Bright Moon. While the tension with Catra was still high he needed to strike fast. The princesses remained wary of her and Catra let them be, it made more sense to her to stay out of the way and enforce the idea she wouldn’t bother them if they did the same. She lied to herself like that. It had worked well enough and the battles remained at a stalemate, neither side relenting their areas to the other.

It didn’t last long, the more they fought together, the more all of them got used to each other’s presence. The first one to approach Catra was the archer boy, it was amusing how he fumbled through small talk and she offered some offhand remarks that seemed to please him. Bow, or so he introduced himself as, didn’t stay too long and always knew when she wasn’t up for it. In the coming days, he’d look for her more often, and she gradually got used to his presence. On the battlefield, she made it a point to have his back, after all they were the only two who weren’t princesses. Soon after that, it was the queen’s daughter that approached her and the outcome was rather messy. She knew exactly who had pushed her to try, ‘Meddlesome boy,’

Catra snorted remembering the black eye she sported for the coming days, Glimmer was not so keen to remember the event as fondly, her face had been scratched up and itched for days on end as the narrow lines Catra caused healed. Their fights became a sort of common event, always comical and bombastic, and the other princesses often teased them about the silly arguments they had. It pushed them to talk to Catra a little more openly, and in a strange turn of events, she found herself fitting in with the girls in her own way. They were more than just fancy royals, the girls were all their own quirky as heck person.

And soon enough, as fate and some coincidences, Glimmer and Catra were paired up and found themselves working well together even if the circumstances forced them to. Secluded and alone, they had talked finding their own worries overlapping. Coming to an understanding meant accepting one another and Ctra was surprised to feel that she didn’t mind. The anger she was used to bottling up in the horde wasn’t as ever present anymore.

The weeks turned to months and Catra’s favourite past time turned to messing with the princesses. She played the silliest of pranks and it offered her a way to destress without having to confide in her new gang. It was one of those slow, quiet days in between attacks when Catra spotted Adora and Glimmer chatting and laughing, enjoying the peace while it lasted.

Cocking her head, ears flicking an deliciously mischievous idea sprang to her mind. At the very last second before she called out to the unexpecting duo, nearly slipping as her hand had already sprang up to greet them before impulsively changing her mind, she slid between some columns examining the area at hand. The corridor was vacant save for themselves, or so she thought, too enrapt in her games to notice anything but her prey. The Queen frowned at the spectacle before her, noting how her daughter and Adora seemed to be the targets and with a sigh she prepared to call for the feline girl. The words died in her throat as Queen Angella blinked at the self satisfied smirk Catra wore, a suppressed chuckle escaping her every now and then. The cheekiness something she had been familiar with, a trait shared by another she called a friend long ago. Angella’s mind spiralled into the possibility that seemed to reinforced day by day as she got used to the presence of the ex-Horde soldier. Perhaps it was time to face that plausible connection and trust the new generation with the past of Etheria not just it’s future. That was how the Queen found herself a spectator to Catra’s latest antics, nostalgia gripping her heart painfully.

They didn’t have their backs to Catra, both Glimmer and Adora were angled towards one of the many murals depicting the history of Bright moon, it was easy sneaking around to one of the statues by their side. She’d have the time of her life teasing them about how they hadn’t even noticed her climbing up on the pedestal and looking down at them from her perch. Whether she was on the good side or not, it always felt glorious having the higher ground. It took merely a second, though they had been trained to expect the unexpected at any time Catra went unnoticed. She wiggled her tush, the queen suppressed a laugh letting the tomfoolery unravel. With an expert eye she managed to aim her jump just before a sparkle of recognition lit up in Glimmer’s eyes. By then Catra was already airborne and freefalling.

“FOR the glory of epic dive bombs!” she cried spreading her arms wide and gloating in the sounds of the shrieks beneath her. It did a number on her ribs but it was certainly worth the aggravated expressions she was given

The trio was flung to the floor, Adora had slipped and couldn’t hold them and Glimmer in her shock forgot she could even warp away grabbing onto Adora’s jacket and pulling her down along with Catra’s entire being weighing them down. Adora was the first to react shoving Catra’s legs off and glaring at the grinning fiend. “Catra!” they both cried in perfect unison. Music to her cat ears! Glimmer groaned grumbling under her breath and teleported from beneath Catra’s upper body causing her to welp and fall on her back. Adora was onto her the next second, her hands grappling her in an attempt to submit her into a headlock.

She shrugged in the hold feeling pretty confident, “It’s not my fault you guys are the slowest princesses in Etheria,”

“You bloody…” Adora growled, smiling and taking it up as a challenge right away. Oh how they missed the good old days and scuffles.

Catra managed to slip away laughing mockingly, wearing the smuggest expression she could before hearing a pop above her. ‘Oh Dang!’ The next thing she knew, she was on the floor once more, hands ruffling her hair into an even scruffier mess.

She cried indignant, “That’s cheating, twinkles!”

“HaHA, all is fair in friendly squabbles!” Glimmer replied squishing her cheeks and being as obnoxious as possible. Catra made it a point to shove her away, elbowing her, hand in the princesses face and all. She mewled when she felt a pinching sensation on her side.

“Adora, that’s foul play!” Catra swatted the hand away but Glimmer made it all more difficult messing with her hair and face. Adora gave Glimmer a nod who winked back. They were ganging up on her.

Adora grinned wickedly meeting Catra’s warning stare full on, “As if that’s ever stopped me before,”

Glimmer gushed as Catra couldn’t help but laugh out with Adora’s well aimed pokes getting more and more tickly. Glimmer went in for the kill aiming for her neck. Catra promised divine retribution for exploiting her weak point, but then again, she might have deserved it just a tinsy bit. Feathery touches reaching her most aggravating spots and reducing her to a mewling, giggly mess. Catra was sure she must have broken somebody’s rib with all the thrashing around she was doing and eventually she managed to grab Adora’s collar and pull her down. The empty corridor was filled with the laughter of the three teenagers as they rolled around trying to get the better of one another.

“I give, I give,” Catra dramatically huffed and puffed, although she really did need to catch her breath.

Glimmer chuckled by her side waving her hands in excitement, “I can’t believe you’re-”

“AH uh, don’t finish that sentence, I can barely take this knucklehead-,” Catra pointed her thumb to her other side were a satisfied Adora stretched her arms raised high above her head, “-using it against me,”

Glimmer rolled her eyes, sitting upright accepting a well earned high five from Adora, beneath them Catra stuck her tongue out at them with quite a vocal ‘Bleh’. The three burst in chortles feeling liberated more than anything, up until they heard the clicking of heels close by them.

Catra jumped right up to her feet as the Queen of Bright Moon approached them. She felt the woman’s eyes on her more often than not, and she couldn’t really blame her. She accepted the suspicions that came from switching sides especially as the move had done nothing to mellow her sharp tongue. Adora and Glimmer followed glancing at her in question. They were mostly sympathetic, specially Adora who had been subjected to the same wariness. For Catra, it wasn’t that simple, there was something else beyond the doubt in those watchful eyes.

“I see you’re having fun,” Queen Angella smiled at them, cocking a brow at Catra’s tense posture, “At ease, we’re not soldiers here...Catra,”

Catra nodded trying to slouch a little, she couldn’t really relax, the queen had a similar kind of feel to Shadow Weaver and although she knew they were two completely different individuals it still proved a little unsettling to be addressed by the queen. The fact Angella used her name didn’t go unnoticed..

“We were just playing around Mum,” Glimmer cleared her throat a little bit embarrassed, she nudged Catra’s arm and gave her a supportive glance ‘It’s just my mum,’ she seemed to say. Catra shrugged nonchalantly, it did help a little especially since she could feel Adora’s shoulder touch her own on the other side.

“May I request your presence for a little...talk?” Queen Angella asked softly. Catra didn’t notice she was being addressed until the queen’s brow furrowed clearly looking straight at  her. She awaited her reply and not her daughter as she had assumed.

“Eh ah sure?”

The vague reply seemed to please her enough, a soft smile gracing the queen’s lips, her wings fluttering as she turned around expecting to be followed.

Catra glanced at Glimmer and Adora who could offer no explanation and instead a few pats on her back. Catra leaned down to whisper in Glimmer’s ear, “Your mother’s a vegetarian I hope,”

Glimmer snorted but added encouragingly, “It’s okay her bark’s scarier than her bite,”

Adora shook her head at the exchange but gave her a quick thumbs up. It seemed she couldn’t count on her to make up an excuse this time.

“Somehow that doesn’t reassure me,” she exhaled exaggeratingly and followed the woman making it a point to stay two steps behind her all the way.  The implication that there was bite to the Bright moon ruler’s wasn’t comforting. The queen looked back at her and smiled warmly, Catra felt herself flush due to her own childish antics. And in a way, it was a blessing, back in the Horde, there wasn’t really any time left to be a child amidst the adults.

Catra stared at anything and anywhere from the brightly lit murals, the clean, pastel columns and didn’t notice Queen Angella had slowed down her pace until she glimpsed her by her side. She must have flinched because a hand found the small of her back and patted it.

“It’s alright, take it easy,” she mumbled clearing her throat. The awkward effort effective to Catra who nodded and found herself appreciating what she considered a prime brownie point tactic more than anything because it was new to her.

“Is this about my pranks? I was just playing,” she laughed nervously. ‘Way to keep your cool, attagirl,’

Angella shook her head, bemused, “No, it’s about your roots, if you would listen to the rambling of an old royal stick in the mud,”

Catra grimaced, remembering her very exact words describing the queen before she had defected.

“I jest,” the teasing tone elicited a smile from Catra. And the atmosphere around them felt just a tad less tense. Who would’ve guessed, talking to others did do something other than tire her out. The offer still hung between them in the silence that followed.

Her roots, huh. She had always been curious about them, were there others like her? Had the horde taken them out, did she have parents, actual real parents, not fake ass guardians who played with her head and pitted her against others. Glancing at the queen, she wondered if her mother had been anything like her. Pretty, hard working, regal, a little bit clumsy with her daughter but full of love.

“I’d like that, the root exploring thing, i mean,” Catra said quietly. If it meant she could find her own place in the word, outside of being someone’s right hand man, and getting her own goals in this war. It was worth the effort.

The queen’s wings ruffled and she clapped her hands enthusiastically, “Well, then, where to start?!”

[becomingatruelady-a]

Having a Best Friend is Like Being in a Really Small Gang

At the lowest point in Chibiusa's life, she felt as if no one loved her, as if everyone in her life would always value others above her. It led to the darkest, lowest hours and days of her life, existing as hatred made flesh in the form of Wicked Lady.

But those days are long gone. Chibiusa has many friends now - but two of them are more special to her than anyone else (just don't tell all her other friends!!), and it's Hotaru and JunJun (@junjunwalk).

Hotaru was one of the first close friends that Chibiusa ever made, a girl who made her truly understand the bond between Usagi and the Inner Senshi. There was something that drew her to the mysterious older girl, something that she couldn't have explained if she tried, but it gave birth to trust and care, Chibiusa's loneliness and Hotaru's longing giving birth to a deep and abiding friendship. Chibiusa has given her heart to Hotaru - literally, by using her Crystal to heal her - and Hotaru has risked her soul to protect Chibiusa in return.

One is death and rebirth and the other is the future, the dawn. They are both of them renewal, bound together by choice rather than destiny.

When the two of them get together, they get along beautifully, encouraging and tempering each other. Chibiusa brings brightness and joy to Hotaru, and Hotaru offers affection and steadiness to Chibiusa.

They match, to lonely girls who have made of themselves something more.

Chibiusa and JunJun though? They are girls who get along like a house on fire. They edge each other on constantly, getting into the goofiest situations and backing each other through the silliest, messiest of moments. They are the proof behind the saying opposites attract, because where Chibiusa strives to be the perfect lady and struggles with defining herself as a being separate from her mother, JunJun rejoices in being a rebel and living to her heart's desire.

Both of them want to be the very best that they can, and push themselves to the max. With JunJun, Chibiusa can be a wild child, and with Chibiusa, JunJun can admit her vulnerabilities. Whether it's fighting monsters alone or saving the Chanelas, the two of them are constantly pushing each other to the next level in ridiculousness, because they know that together, they can do anything. They can stand up to anyone, anywhere.

It's not that Chibiusa loves JunJun more than the rest of the quartet. It's that they understand each other fully, in a way that they can't even really explain to anyone else.

Chibiusa was once a lonely girl, who felt that growing up would only leave her even more alone. But that was the past - in the present and extending into the future, Chibiusa has friends for life (and two best, best friends).

[stargazerdaisy]

11 Questions x 3

I was tagged by @kyliafanfiction, @trinitea-fics, and @skyeward-otp forever ago, but there’s no way I can come up with 33 questions.  So I’ll answer the 33 and come up with a new 11.  Theoretically.  We’ll see.

From Kylia:

1.) Favorite Trope To Subvert?

One of my favorites that I (think I) pulled off was in Please Don’t Make Me! , where Skye is all whispering in Ward’s ear about them sneaking off and finding a way to ~entertain~ themselves, and it certainly seems like sexy times are about to happen.  And then...it’s Mario Kart.  I love twisting people’s expectations for the sake of comedy and fun.

2.) Favorite Trope to ‘Play Straight’, as it were?

Bedsharing.  I am weeeeeeak for bedsharing.  GImme gimme gimme.  I want those  punks to wake up spooning and entwined and then the awkward to set in, but actually push them to deal with their feelings.  Yes please I need it now.  

3.) What is that one character that, no matter how much you might like to be open minded about other fans having their own opinions and whatnot, when you see people defending them, you just cannot stop rolling your eyes and being at the very least somewhat angry, if not raging?

Melinda May and Phil Coulson....

4.) Favorite Thing To Put Ketchup On?

The garbage can.

Haha, just kidding.  I’m not a huge ketchup fan.  I prefer bbq sauce or ranch for most things you’d use with ketchup.  But ketchup on a burger or hot dog works well (if bbq sauce isn’t an option).  

5.) Cake or Death?

Cake.  

6.) Is there a Spoon?

47 of them to be precise.

7.) What is the Average Airborne Velocity Of An Unladen Swallow?

African or European?

8.) Did you get the references in questions 5, 6, and 7 without having to look them up?

5 sounds familiar, but no.  6, not even in the slightest.  7, my answer should explain that one.

9.) Silliest name you’ve ever heard for a person/thing/group?

Oh, oh, oh, I know I have some doozies of nicknames, but I’m drawing a complete blank right now.

10.) What is a book series that is nominally completed that you’d like to see more installments of?

I’m a big fan of the Jack Ryan books by Tom Clancy, but well, Clancy died a few years ago, and none of the co-writers can match his original style and quality (honestly, neither can his own later books).  So while that verse could easily accommodate more stories, and I could love them, it’s not going to happen with the quality I want, so I wouldn’t want people to try and subsequently fail.

11.) Song you both hate but sometimes can’t stop listening too?

There was an *Nsync song back in the day that I hated.  But I listened to it enough times that I ended up learning all the lyrics and singing along with.  That’s happened with a few others too.  There are some One Direction songs that I like and it pisses me off that I like them.  

From Trini:

1. A song you are listening to on loop right now

Actually no, I’m not this week.  Which honestly is kinda rare.  Then again, I’ve been listening to a couple of playlists with The War on it and that song always gets to me, so it’s back in my mind again.

2. What is a popular show/book/movie/podcast could you not get into/have no interest in?

I’ve never gotten into Supernatural.  Just never had that much interest, despite having a big fondness for Jensen Ackles.  

3. What is the last movie you watched?

Thor: Ragnarok

4. Opinion of Valentine’s Day?

It’s nice to have a day where you make an extra effort to show your love for others.  It’s just as lovely to do so with family and friends as it is with a romantic partner.  And I definitely prefer, low-key, thoughtful gifts/activities.

5. A show, book or movie that you consider “Your childhood”

Inspector Gadget was one of my absolutely faves when I was a kid.  Also, totally loved Ghostwriter and wanted to start my own crime-solving group.  Alas, we did not have a ghost to aid us.  Magic School Bus was also watched a lot and I can still remember the ending bit with all the kids making phone calls.

6. Favourite Youtuber/what you do watch on Youtube?

I mostly listen to music on YouTube.  I don’t follow any particular person.  I’ve been enjoying mashup videos lately.  Imagine Dragons are great for mashups.  (There.  Happy Megan?)

7. What do you need to buy?

A new battery for my laptop.  It would be nice to use it when it wasn’t plugged in.  After all, that’s a big part of the whole laptop thing.

8. What merch are you close to impulse buying?

At this moment, nothing really.  But I had strongly considered buying Chloe Bennet’s Fight Like A Girl shirt.  If I had had the money at the time, I probably would have.

9. What’s the weather outside?

Right at this moment, overcast, grey, cool (low 40s), but happily, not raining.  Typical late March weather in this area.

10. A thing that you recently accomplished that you are proud of?

@mframe and I spent a good chunk of a day (or was it a couple days?) and built a form within the test environment of our database.  Built it from the ground up, adding groups, creating custom fields, making them calculated fields, setting up a bunch of codes in order to make them calculate correctly, etc.  And it works really well.  I really like it.  Now if only the assholes that I work with would shut the f*** up and get on board, we could actually use it.

11. Movie/book/Tv show/podcast coming out soon that you’re excited for

I NEED TO BUY MY TICKETS FOR INFINITY WAR.  Also, The Incredibles 2.

From Gilly:

1. If you won $1,000,000 dollars, what’s the first thing you’d do?

Pay off debt.  

2. A movie/tv show that you always go back to whenever you’re bored or don’t know what to watch?

Friends, Community, Brooklyn Nine Nine are all great standbys for when I can’t decide on what I’m in the mood for.

3. Most meaningful book you’ve ever read.

That’s an excellent question.  To Kill A Mockingbird is one of those books that’s always stuck with me.  I need to re-read it again, in fact.

4. Have you ever gotten anyone to get hooked on a tv show? How did they feel about it?

HAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAH.  Yes.  I mean, nothing on the scale of Megan getting me hooked on AoS.  But I’ve convinced a couple friends to try Doctor Who, I got @evieoh to watch Community, and then she and I ganged up on @airaze-blog and made him watch all of Alias.  There was a lot of screaming.  We won’t talk about Orphan Black.

5. Has anyone ever gotten you hooked on a tv show? How did you feel about it?

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Yes.

As referenced above, Megan was the one that really pushed me to try AoS again.  (I’d watched the first 3 or 4 episodes when it first aired, but lost interest and was always having to watch it later b/c of committments those nights.) There was another friend of ours at work, who pushed along with her, and my bff watched it as well and encouraged me.  I was kind of hesitant, didn’t care a whole lot, but I was getting into the MCU as a whole, so I decided to give it a shot again.

Amazingly enough, while I knew Hydra comes out of the shadows and about Jiaying’s evil turn, Double Agent Ward wasn’t spoiled for me.  I was SHOCKED at that.  And I’m so glad, because it was SUCH A GOOD TWIST.  

But yeah.....that may have just slightly, dramatically changed the trajectory of my life.  I wouldn’t have had an Aussie live on my couch for the last 6 months and that would have truly been tragic.

6. Where’s your dream vacation?

Croatia.  I’ve been dying to go there for years and it gets more intense every day.

7. Favorite social media app/site.

Tumblr.  I get the most interaction and the widest range here.  

8. Dream job.

Stay at home mom would be my preferred occupation.  For a profession, lactation consultant is my dream.  We’ll see if I ever get there.

9. Favorite genre to read/write.

Uhhh.....in terms of fanfic genres/tropes, I love enemies to friends to lovers (on any scale).  

10. Favorite genre to watch.

I love spy shows.  Gimmes spies anyday.  

11. Favorite quote at the moment.

CHICKENS!  (just for you, Evie)

My questions - sorry dudes, only doing 11.

What is your favorite season?

What are your feeling on A.I. (the concept, not the movie)?

What is the oldest piece of technology in your home?  Do you use it?  Do you know how?

Hummus.  Thoughts?

Tell me about a favorite birthday or holiday present.

What pair of shoes do you wear the most?  Are they your favorite or just the most functional or something else?

What’s your dream fanfic?

How easy is it for you to unplug?

What is a hobby/activity/something that you have an absurd amount of supplies/tools for?

What is your guilty pleasure snack food?

Are you more a dialogue or song lyrics referencer?

I tag: @evieoh, @mframe, @agenthaywood, @airaze-blog, @helloimthedoctor, @agentsofsunnydale, @queermageddon, @livesindaydreams, @orlissa, @vesperass-anuna, and @in-the-moving-castle

[messygray]

Sorrow

Sadness doesn’t come as easily as it once did, Huo “Casimir” Xue Yi

tw: very vague mentions of self harm (just mentioning scars), stay safe! Ily ♡

Sadness doesn’t come as easily as it once did. That feeling of dread, the weight sitting heavy upon broad shoulders as a man slid down with his back pressed against the cold wall; or perhaps, as he watched the smoke rise from the burning end of his cigarette after another long, burdensome drag. Even when the sky was still grey, the smell of a potential storm in the air, and the generally gloomy atmosphere that constantly plagued the city of Arcadia, the sensations were light- a little too airy, perhaps, but all around... much more content than it once were.

Things weren’t okay in the city he was born and raised in. Things never were in the twisted world that brought him from young boy to man. And he had the scars to prove it- from the careless slashes still clinging like reminders on his arms to the terribly disastrous ‘tallies’ sitting against his inner thighs. His body bore the signs of a battle-weary young man, one that’d seen the horrors of the city, experienced it, and learned from it. And rightfully so, he bore the emotional cuts- side effects, above all else.

And yet, recently, the situation has felt lighter than it ever did before. Because even as Casimir often found himself standing on the balcony, the roof, outside in the alleyway- quite literally anywhere, leaning against some inanimate object for support and staring out into the dismal, yet busy streets ahead of him, it became harder and harder for the young man to feel sorry for himself.

Especially when said man bore the special privilege of finishing the cigarette- butt soon discarded onto the floor of the streets and a deft foot bearing down on the last dregs of burning ash, and swinging the creaking door open once again to slip back into the hideout he called his home.

No, the hideout was nothing, if not dingy; it was dark and sometimes damp in here, the smell of various ambiguous just- things stinking up the place (from the smell of tobacco right off Casimir’s own breath, to the smell of someone’s delicious takeout, to the various musk of sweaty, moving bodies busying themselves with some sort of assigned duty). Not to mention cramped when all of the defecting refugees were suddenly holed up in the same room on the orders of their top dog. (But even then, the lil ‘gang’ still made do with that they had, of course.)

And yet, even in the harsh realities of the world he lived in and the more-than-critical conditions they’d all been forced into, Casimir found it difficult to mope around all day like he did in the short period of his teenage years (-ah yes, he didn’t dodge that teenage angst that hit everyone at least sometime in their years). 

Not when, presently, he’d been graced with the opportunity to slip right into the currently (thankfully) unoccupied bathroom; hot waters running not moments later. 

And if the steaming sprays of water relaxing aching muscles and melting away his worries weren’t enough of an excuse for the young man to be... happier than usual, then surely what comes after is. 

What comes after is the feeling of soft cotton against delicate, marred skin, the fabric hanging upon a somewhat still-filling out frame in a way that very nearly swallowed the boy. Sometimes, they’d even fall past his boxer clad thighs- not a detail Casimir often took notice in.

It’s when his entire body- all six feet of him- hit a bed that is absolutely not his that the Chinese man is most blissful. The euphoric rush hits him like a train wreck as he buries his face into the sheets, nose digging against the softened fabric as he inhales deeply- long whiffs of his leader’s scent hitting his senses in a way that entirely envelopes his entire mind and leaves his thoughts blank instantly. 

There’s no worry in his mind as Casimir grins giddily, rolling over on the somewhat-soft, definitely worn mattress, shifting until he’s comfortably situated the way he desired to be. Said top dog is probably gonna end up walking into his room any minute, only to find his vice sitting perched in his bed, back propped up against his pillows. 

The mere thought of it only makes the bemused man break into his widest, silliest grin, a hand pulling the collar of his shirt up to cover the lower half of his face much like a kid who’s about to be caught being bad. Like a cat who’s caught the canary, if one will. For some reason, the sensations make him slightly dizzy in the head- but in the best way possible. The eagerness to see his top dog’s (most likely) unamused, but tolerant features is Casimir’s biggest motive.

Sadness didn’t come as easily as it once did for Casimir Huo. 

Not when (some of) his days were spent like this, filled with carefree enjoyment and the company of his most favored person in this somber world.

[rikirachtman]

Satan - Court in the Act (1983) review

In an age where the band “Dying Fetus” can have their albums stocked in most record shops across North America with very little backlash, perhaps the name “Satan” seems a tad schlocky and generic. At the time of their formation, however, this Newcastle-based heavy metal quintet boasted one of the most threatening band names in England, and it was quickly apparent that they were prepared to take the New Wave of British Heavy Metal world by storm. “Court in the Act”, although not utterly demonic-sounding when compared to other 1983 releases like “Kill ‘Em All” or “Show No Mercy”, is a surprisingly thrashy affair for its time and place, and still holds up today as a NWOBHM classic alongside “Angel Witch”, “Number of the Beast”, and of course, “Born in the U.S.A.”.

Satan’s approach is nothing completely out of the ordinary for NWOBHM, utilizing mountains of buttery smooth, expertly-synchronized twin guitar melodies courtesy of dual axemen Russ Tippins and Steve Ramsey, galloping Steve Harrisian basslines from four-string fiddler Graeme English, and fairly straightforward but still rock-solid, fascinating, and fun drum work thanks to skin-basher Sean Taylor. Capping off this small army of musicians is vocalist Brian Ross, who at first glance maintains a pretty traditional NWOBHM vocal style with strong, steady, clean wails, but unlike most singers of his kind, Ross knows precisely what his range is and stays firmly within it, almost always acting as an anchor to the fury around him and only occasionally busting out the high-pitched Halfordian shrieks typical of the sub-genre. There’s simply too much going on at once for me to dedicate an entire section to each member of the band or anything, but make no mistake that all five of these cheetah-print-spandex-wearing youths are a capable bunch, and their talent far exceeds their choice in clothing.

Songwriting is top-notch, with each track standing fairly distinct from all the others. “Trial By Fire” might be the most popular offering from this album and has one of the catchiest vocal hooks I’ve ever heard in a NWOBHM piece before, “Alone in the Dock” builds off an incredibly powerful bulldozing Mercyful Fate-esque riff, and “Hunt You Down” cracks out some gang vocals for the chorus (backing vocals don’t exist on the album save for this bit, so it stands out). The synth-driven intro track and the acoustic interlude that precedes the final track are the only major outliers here, but neither detracts from the album; rather, both act as short, atmospheric bridges between more grandiose tracks in the same way as Black Sabbath’s “Embryo” and “Orchid”. Lyrics are perhaps the only part of the writing that aren’t absolutely mind-blowing, mostly featuring standard NWOBHM fare about ancient battles, believing in yourself, and another song about the plight of the Native Americans (not that I’m complaining, every one of those songs kicks ass), but they never fall into total silliness and we’re mercifully free of the usual two or three “this is a thiny-veiled sex euphemism” songs that plague far too many NWOBHM releases.

Perhaps Satan’s most noticeable trait is simply their energy. Other than arguably Ross with his tranquilly commanding vocal presence, every member of the band sounds positively bursting with a passionate liveliness that effectively embodies the spirit of the sub-genre in the first place, and even Ross gets in on the action a bit when he screams. In a strange way, Ross’ more mature and commanding voice almost serves to ground the youthful vivacity of the instrumentation; had he employed a more traditional Robert Plant-inspired yelp, “Court in the Act” may not carry the same relative maturity and sophistication that it does. Tippins and Ramsey’s signature “riffs-so-fast-they-sound-like-solos” race around the steady foundation of his voice, with English and Taylor peppering the guitar fury with copious fills, but never straying from their job as a rhythmic backbone. I can only assume the members of Satan are in fact insects that operate under the same hivemind because these guys possess a Maiden-tier degree of coordination and perfect chemistry, which is an absolutely astounding thing for a group of 18-to-20-year-olds to be able to master.

I tend to complain about production in these reviews, and this is no exception. Anything within the higher-frequency range, like cymbal crashes, guitar solos, or Brian Ross’ "there’s a bee in the studio” screams, are absolutely painful to listen to. On the other hand, lower frequencies like the chugging rhythmic riffs and booming toms sound thick, dynamic and crunchy, so I honestly don’t know what the fuck is going on there. Essentially, this album becomes increasingly difficult to listen to at high volumes, but sounds fantastic at a slightly quieter level. Recording quality also seems to jump around a lot between songs, so I’m not sure how much cocaine was present behind the mixing desk at this studio in 1983, just that there almost certainly was some. 

“Court in the Act”, and indeed Satan themselves, are often forgotten when the topic of classic NWOBHM records and bands comes up, but their blistering riffage, pounding rhythms and occult naming schemes are all clear influences on the genre of thrash metal that would begin to take form mere months after Court’s release. Anyone with the slightest interest in Maiden, Priest, Angel Witch, or any early thrash metal should pick this up, lest they miss out on the greatest album by the band with the silliest name. Here’s a question though: Between the title “Court in the Act” and the song “Alone in the Dock”, are we sure this is intentional wordplay, and the American record label didn’t just misunderstand what the British band members were telling them to call this stuff?

“Through the white marble gates, down the dimly-lit path, looking over your shoulder, did you hear someone laugh?”

[penguinraisedbypenguins]

Save Me Once More

In which Oswald finds himself, once again, at the Gotham docks. Finally, he and Ed are alone and able to reach a resolution.  (I stayed up late to finish this and didn’t edit but I thought this might be a satisfying turn for the finale...)

The history he had with the Gotham docks was a long and painful one. Any trip here always seemed to end in tragedy. Oswald didn’t doubt this day would end with a death,his or someone else’s. Either way the dock would claim its victim.

“Penguin,” through the haze of memories Edward’s voice finally reached his ears, a low growl. That gravel in his throat meant to intimidate any person who dared to stand between the Riddler and his wants. “For Tetch,” Ed continued, moving the gun he was aiming at Oswald slowly to point at Jervis.

The Hatter smiled at the sound of his name and looked fondly up at Ed, “You’d trade me away for that little bird? Why that’s the silliest thing I’ve heard!”

Ed grit his teeth, eyes traveling towards the warehouse ceiling in irritation. This only made Jervis laugh and dance on his heels. The grenade bounced dangerously around his neck.

“You love riddles and I love rhymes. Some would say we’re two of a kind!” he giggled, flashing yellowed teeth.

“Enough!” Ed cried out, causing Jervis to shrink back, hands held up to his mouth trying to hold in the laughter.

“What do you want Penguin for anyway, Ed?” Jim asked, fingers flitting nervously on the gun held by his side.

“Aw come on, Jim. Why do you care? He’s willing to give us Tetch, let’s go,” said Harvey, spreading his arms incredulously. Oswald glared at the current commissioner, a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. But Ed spoke before he had the chance.

“Harvey,” he said, one hand placed fondly against the green suit, over his heart, “Oswald and I have unfinished business. In fact it’s quite personal, so I suggest you take this,” he jabbed the gun at Tetch, “nuisance and leave us alone.”

Jim looked from Oswald back to Ed, a grimace resting on his lips, “Fine.”

The pang of betrayal hit Oswald. Even though he knew Ed wasn’t going to hurt him anymore, the fact that Jim Gordon was never his friend reached the small, tender spot he had left in his heart. It hurt every time the man gave him up. Jim nudged him forward, a hand flat against his back.

Ed pointed his gun at Jervis, “Walk.”

“Sorry, Oswald,” Jim said, looking at Oswald with a furrowed brow. Oswald heard the gilt in his voice and sniffed, standing as tall as he could manage. “I’m used to it by now, Jim,” he said, hobbling towards Ed.

Suddenly a gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Automatically, Oswald ducked as did the other men, Jervis laughing nervously.

“Hey, losers!” a voice cried out.

Oswald looked up through his arms shielding his head. Babs was sauntering into the warehouse followed by Butch and Tabitha.

“Sorry we’re late,” she said, eyes wide and hungry.

Ed’s face fell, “Oh crud.”

“Shit,” said Jim.

“RUN!” Harvey yelled.

And they did. Jim grabbed Jervis by the arm and dragged him towards the open door of the warehouse. Harvey followed close behind, one hand holding his hat down as gunfire erupted behind them. Oswald turned on his heel and took off in the other direction.

“Oswald!” he heard Ed calling after him. But there was no time to slow down. He would not be a victim of the docks, not again.

“Come back here you freaks!” Tabitha yelled, firing angrily in their direction.

Ignoring the sound of bullets, Oswald splashed through puddles in a straight line through the warehouse. He could hear Ed’s footsteps a ways behind him.

“Forget about them!” Barbara was shouting, “We’ll catch up to them later.”

Oswald stumbled on the worn concrete, swerved to the left, and collapsed behind one of the large pillars holding up the warehouse roof. Leaning his head back to rest, he clutch his chest. His heart was pounding in his ears. He waited a few moments, making sure Barbara and her little gang had really given up the chase. Oswald leaned out from behind the pillar on his hands and knees, looking down towards the front of the warehouse. About five pillars down he saw Ed standing up doing the same. Their eyes met, and Oswald was reminded of Fish Mooney’s words. Forgiveness does not make you weak. Something exploded outside, causing the warehouse’s foundation to tremble. The grenade Oswald realized, eyes widening. He looked up, watching pieces of the roof begin to come loose and smash to the ground. Then he was running again, hoping Ed was right behind him. He cursed under his breath at the pain in his leg. Closing his eyes, he pressed forward. He heard the warehouse collapse, then silence. When Oswald opened his eyes he was at the edge of the dock, calm water reflecting his hobbled form back at him. Why did he always end up here? Maybe he was supposed to be killed by Jim Gordon that day, and the docks had been trying to claim him ever since. A shadow appeared behind him in the reflection. Oswald spun around too quickly, loosing his balance and nearly slipping off the dock. Gloved hands caught him by the lapels of his jacket, pulled him close, a bright green fabric enveloping him. Oswald’s breath caught in his throat as he realized Ed was holding him. With shaking hands, he moved his arms around the other man’s middle, hugging him tight. Resisting the urge to bury his face in Ed’s chest was difficult. It was hard to admit, but he had missed being this close. Ed’s head was resting on his shoulder, and he could hear the other man’s breathing, as tired as his own.

“Ed,” Oswald said, dropping his arms as he leaned away.

Straightening his suit, Ed took a step back and cleared his throat. His brow was furrowed, but a gentle vulnerability graced his face.

“Yes Oswald?” it was a whisper.

They watched each other, eyes wandering over faces once so familiar. Oswald thought back to the night Ed found him in the woods...How Ed had saved his life and brought purpose back into his life. He missed singing together over Chinese takeout dinners, the glow of the apartment’s green sign as he lay in Ed’s bed, wearing those soft pajamas, too long for his limbs. That was just the beginning. Ed had saved his life in more ways than one, many time over. Only once did he take it from him.

Oswald straightened his jacket, standing tall, “Any last words?”

He withdrew a gun from his pocket, stowed their by Jim Gordon before he was traded to Ed for Tetch. He’d noticed there while crouching in the warehouse, watching Ed just before the bomb went off. Maybe Jim cared after all.

Ed looked hurt, not shocked or afraid, just hurt. “I thought we were over this…”

“Over this?” Oswald snarled, “Over THIS?” He waved the gun around the docks angrily, trying to capture all the pain he’d experienced at this place with a single word.

Flinching as the gun aimed at him once again, Ed struggled to find words. So many of their encounters since their last time at the docks had come down to this, staring each other down to try to quell their own heartbreaks.

Oswald swallowed, lifted his chin, “Do you even remember WHY you killed me, Ed? Do you have any clue why you continued to hunt me down like an animal after you found out I survived?”

“I…” Ed was gaping at him now, his two halves clearly struggling between past and present, “I wanted my revenge. Because you killed the woman I loved.”

The words came out robotically, like he had said the same phrase a dozen or more times. Oswald shook his head, unsatisfied.

“Who did I have killed, Ed? Who was she?”

Ed bared his teeth, his hands balled into fists at his sides, “You killed Isabelle.”

“Oh, Ed.”

Clutching his temples, Ed looked away, realizing his mistake. Oswald shook his head, a sad smirk rising to his lips.

“Her name was Isabella. And YOU would have killed her if I hadn’t.”

“No…”

“Yes!” Oswald jutted his chin forward, teeth gnashing the air, “History is always doomed to repeat itself, Ed, and you fell for a ghost.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, a low growl, hands flexing anxiously at his sides.

“You’ve been out done, old friend,” Oswald continued lips curled into a sneer, “Tricked.”

“Tricked?”

“That’s right,” Oswald found his composure, tightened his grip on the gun. The reveal was not tasting a sweet as he’d hoped. He focused on Ed’s eyes, determined to enjoy this. “You were tricked. By the Court of Owls. By Strange, that monster. They sent you Isabella to keep you DISTRACTED.”

There was a pause, a beat of silence where the horrid realization of what he had said spread across Ed’s face.

“And it worked, didn’t it?” Oswald’s lips curled against his teeth, “You chose her over me. You picked an imposter over your BEST FRIEND.”

Ed pressed his fingers against his eyes. Oswald was waiting for the explosion of anger, to still be blamed for the whole ugly situation. Inhaling sharply, Ed straightened, glared at Oswald.

“I should have figured that out,” Ed was quiet, calculated. It was frightening, “Even if what you’re telling me is true, that does not excuse your actions, Oswald.”

“But think of yours,” Oswald hissed.

“I shot you to get revenge.”

“And then you claimed you didn’t love me,” Oswald lowered the gun then, pouting despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, “But no one has ever done for me what you have, Ed. You’ve saved my life more than once… Why can’t you save me once more?”

Ed slowly lowered his hands, opened his eyes revealing tears at the edges. The anger had faded, leaving a vacant expression tinged with sadness. “How can I save you, Oswald? Looks like you’re ready to finally save yourself…”

“Tell me the truth,” Oswald whispered, swerving far from his original plan, back to the emotions he’d shut away after Ivy pulled him from the water, “Tell me what you couldn’t the last time we were here at the docks.”

Ed stood silent and still, without question or reply. Desperate to have been right about something, Oswald pressed him further.

“Say it, you coward.”

Ed opened his mouth, closed it again. His expression darkened as he inclined his head, the bowler hat casting a shadow over his eyes.

“First,” he snarled, “You call me the RIDDLER.”

Oswald stepped forward so their chests were nearly touching.

“Never,” he hissed.

Ed frowned, teeth barred. His hand found Oswald’s on the gun, making him flinch back. Instead of trying to take it away, Ed gently pushed the gun down. Oswald gazed up at the other man, mouth slightly agape. He was confused by the softness he found in Ed’s expression, eyebrows furrowed not in anger, but in uncertainty, lips pouting. As Ed’s warm breath caressed his face, Oswald’s heart beat quickened in his chest. He had tried to leave these feelings at the docks after Ed had shot him and left him for dead, but here they were, back again.

“I’m sorry,” Oswald said finally, his lip quivering, “I’m sorry I so cruelly stole away your happiness. No matter my reasons, even if I truly believed she was bad news, I should not have gone that far.”

Ed sighed, “She wasn’t my happiness Oswald, you were.”

Oswald felt his jaw drop open. He blinked furiously, working his mouth, but no words would come out. Scratching his ear nervously, Ed worked his mouth into a grimace, as if he wasn’t expecting honesty to come spilling off his tongue. He pressed his forehead to Oswald’s, took him by the chin. Oswald’s eyelashes grazed Ed’s glasses and he blushed.

“I'm sorry I killed Isabella because I was jealous…” “And I'm sorry I tried to kill you after you proved how much you loved me.” “Do you think we can just start over?” Oswald asked, his heart aching. Ed thought for a moment, “Do you like riddles?” “Wha-- no…” “Oswald...I know who you are.” Ed waited expectantly for Oswald to understand. “Then you know you're standing too close,” he replied, catching on.

They smiled at each other, for a moment transported back to that day in the GCPD. How different they both were, how unaware that their fates were so entwined. Ed took Oswald’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“You’re the only one, Oswald,” he said quietly.

“Is this another truce?” Oswald asked, lifting his head to meet Ed’s eyes.

Ed thought for a moment, “Hmm, yes, it is.”

“How long do we have?”

“A lifetime, I’d say.”

“Oh?” Oswald raised an eyebrow, “That long?”

“Well, you know I can’t concentrate when you’re trying to kill me, Oswald.”

“This isn’t going to be easy, Ed,” Oswald said, his smile faltering.

“I know. I feel...jumbled...heavy. I’ve spent so long being angry…”

Oswald grabbed him by the lapel, pulling Ed down to his level and kissed him hard on the lips. Dazed, Ed stood at a loss for words.

“I’m still angry,” Oswald admitted, “But mostly I’m sad. And mostly I miss you.”

Ed leaned down and stroked Oswald’s cheek. Kissing him softly, he caressed Oswald’s cheek with a gloved hand. Oswald closed his eyes, only slightly mad that Ed was the better kisser.

“I miss you, too,” Ed murmured, straightening to his full height, green suit shimmering.

“Can we finally talk?’ asked Oswald, “Instead of trying to kill each other?”

“We already agreed on that truce.”

“Then let’s talk...” Oswald looked behind him at the water, “Somewhere less morbid.”

Ed chuckled, holding his hand a little tighter. Nothing was fixed, not yet, but it was a start. They walked away from docks, hand in hand, finally beginning to leave the past behind them. Oswald glanced back only once, to make sure the docks hadn’t claimed him, that his life was for once improved by their waters. He felt something cover his head and turned to Ed, who had removed his bowler hat and placed it on Oswald.

“I apologize for stealing your hat,” he said.

Oswald reached up and straightened it, “It looks better on me and you know it.”

First they would talk, for as long as was needed. Gotham could wait. There were plenty of heroes to fix this virus business. But then they would reclaim their power. It was time for the kings of Gotham City to rise. Together.

[jewishaxelwalker]

Axel Walker, as a character, is a real mess. As he was pretty much only written by one person prior to 2011, and that one person was Geoff Johns, it’s no real wonder why. My complaints regarding every book Geoff Johns has ever worked on could fill a book roughly the size of the bible, but that’s neither here nor there right now.

Of all the new villains Johns created during his underwhelming run on the Flash, Axel is the one that’s lasted longest. Hunter Zoloman’s Zoom is a close second, but all bets were off with that guy once Johns was given the go-ahead to bring back Eobard Thawne, who hasn’t gone the hell away since 2009. But despite showing up regularly throughout his Flash run, making an appearance in his Teen Titans run, and just generally existing in Rogues’ Revenge, Blackest Night: The Flash, and the Brightest Day Flash series, Geoff Johns never actually bothered to give this kid a personality. No, really.

Axel has personality traits, most prevalent among them being annoying and young, but seeing as Johns was pushing 30 when he created Axel...the “youth” aspect of the character seemed overly exaggerated. For instance, here’s the panel that gives us the best guess as to how old he is:

“Dropped out of high school a few years ago” is a real shitty timeline. How many years is a few? Did he drop out as a freshman, a junior? Between how damn small he is (DC Encyclopedia cites him as being 5′7″, but I’ll eat my hat if he’s over 5′2″), the rest of the Rogues referring to him as “kid” all the time, and the way he kept being set up as one of Bart’s villains in the short time he was Kid Flash, I feel like we’re supposed to think of Axel as 16 or 17. However, Axel is shown being sent to Iron Heights on multiple occasions. That’s big boy prison, not a juvenile detention facility. So it’s entirely possible he’s 18 or 19. But we will never know.

So okay, back to those character traits. Early on, it was established that in addition to being young and annoying, Axel was also highly inventive, having created a bunch of tricks and gags that James Jesse, his predecessor, hadn’t used. He also utilized modern technology in a way that only someone written by a 30+ year old in 2005 could:

Is this even possible? I know about as much about computers as the next Amish person, that is to say, next to nothing, so I can’t tell you. But it’s possible according to Comic Book Hacking!

Anyway, when he first hit the scene, Axel was working with Blacksmith’s new Rogues. That didn’t last long, and he eventually jumped ship with Mark and Evan, who vouched for him with Len for whatever reason, and then Axel was a true and proper Rogue.

And here’s where it all goes a bit hinky.

During Crossfire (183-188 if you want exact issues), Axel had a glossy sheen of “golly, gee whiz!” about him. He was new to this whole villainy thing, eager to prove himself, and ready and willing to cause some chaos. Chaotic Neutral, if you will. The Identity Crisis tie-in issues (214-217) and Rogue War (220-225) introduced a weird little quirk that hadn’t been present before: sadism, and a need for said sadism to be corrected. 

In 214, Axel obliviously offers to whip up some poison gas to lace the flowers Len wants to send in sympathy to Ralph Dibny. Not knockout gas, or some other harmless gag, poison. We’d already seen that the other Rogues had a habit of insulting Axel in previous issues, but in 216, Len one-punches him to the floor for making fun of Digger when news of his death was reported.

The next panel shows that he is deadass unconscious. 220 gives us another fun panel of weird sadism that comes out of left field:

Now, where did this come from? I like to trace it back to a couple of panels from 188:

-words of advice from Weather Wizard, which are later parroted back in 221:

Again, it has previously been shown that of all the older Rogues, the one Axel is closest to, sees as a sort of mentor even, is Weather Wizard. Which brings me to Rogues’ Revenge.

Final Crisis: Rogues’ Revenge is possibly my least favorite comic of all time. It’s the one that paved the way for the return of Eobard Thawne (my least favorite villain) and killed off Thad Thawne (my absolute favorite villain)...but it was also the place where my favorite version of Axel was born.

Axel’s part in Rogue War ended when James beat the hell out of him, stole his mask and shoes, and tossed him in a dumpster. Between Rogue War and Rogues’ Revenge, Axel showed up in all of one comic, where he murdered a quartet of college students in the Detective Chimp: Helmet of Fate issue:

It’s one of those comics that really doesn’t make a ton of sense out of Axel’s characterization, what little there was to begin with. When we next see Axel in Rogues’ Revenge #1, he’s put together his own little gang. While his Trickster gang dresses like him, Axel is the only one who actually uses tricks, the other guys use guns. They’re disposed of, and Axel is folded back in with the Rogues. After Len beats him up a bit, of course:

But what else is new, right? After a whole rigamarole about the Rogues going to Gambi’s workshop to give their costumes back, but they find him beat all to hell by a group calling themselves the New Rogues, who’d also kidnapped Len’s father. The Rogues find them. There’s a fight. And then, this:

Followed very closely by this:

And quite literally immediately after, this:

And this is it. This is my favorite version of Axel, born from what might be the shittiest comic of all time. My favorite version of Axel is the underutilized “scared rabbit covering it all up with false bravado” version, which we would now see in everything following this issue, up until the New 52. After Rogues’ Revenge, Axel’s speaking panels were cut to practically nothing. He lurked in the background of scenes, helped out, had a one-liner or two, but did Johns ever again attempt to give him any kind of depth? Nope. All his character development from this point on would come from Scott Kolins:

This page baffled me for the longest time, when it came out. Len has just had Mick kill his father for him. Third panel, Axel’s expression is very neutral, not giving away anything. Fifth panel, peeking out from behind Len, his expression borders on worry, but by panel six right next to it, he’s schooled himself back to neutrality. Then we get this page:

“Us”, Axel says. As if he actually did any murdering of his own. That’s why the past sadistic streak and the Detective Chimp issue never sat well with me. Where did these traits spring from? I know I said earlier that the whole “no conscience” thing might be to blame, but it was never consistent. 

Scroll back up. Look at those facial expressions. Kolins might draw Len craggier than a mountain peak, but his Axel is definitely the most expressive. Look at the page with Mark causing faux-Abra Kadabra to explode. Look at that bottom-right panel. You can literally see him being terrified of the people he’s with, finally understanding exactly what they’re capable of, and realizing that he’s in too deep to get out unharmed. But at the same time…he doesn’t want out, because these guys are all Dad now. He idolizes them and he fears them. So he digs deep for the set of balls that got him into Blacksmith’s circuit, and uses the fact that none of the others have really tried to get to know him to his advantage. Bad jokes, ignorance, bratting it up…hiding his fear. After the page above, Axel spends the rest of Rogues’ Revenge making some of the silliest expressions he ever has in a comic when he’s in focus, but out of focus, he’s all frowns and neutral faces. He does end up aiding in Inertia’s murder...somehow

Seriously, what the hell is he shooting at him, a spring? It’s coiled too loosely to choke him, and though the shot of Thad’s corpse shows it still wrapped around his throat, there’s no bruising there like on his face and body.

The next place Axel, or the Rogues for that matter, show up is in Blackest Night: Flash, another Johns disaster. There, he’s the comedic relief from start to finish. He’s not particularly interested in fighting zombies, so his expressions tend to range from a very fake-looking full-face grin to straight up terror:

And of course, the pit. I’ve got a whole other laundry list of ways comics failed Owen Mercer, but that’s not for here. When the horribly out of character Captain Cold confronts the even more horribly out of character Owen about his actions in trying to bring back his father, it’s bad. But is it “copying every line and forehead wrinkle from Mark’s face onto Axel’s face” bad?

Bam. After Blackest Night, the Rogues would show up only once more before Flashpoint, in a couple of issues of the Brightest Day Flash series. Here, he actually has a few panels of dialogue and is actually shown to be doing things for a change. 

One of his only panels worth mentioning, though, is this one from issue 6:

So...if Axel is a millennial, then that means he was born between 1981 and 1997, making him at most 29 and at least 13 back in 2010. Release this kid’s age, DC. The world wants to know.

So. You’d think a character study on a Trickster would end with a bang, but I don’t really think it can. Axel is honestly a pretty weak character, whose goals and motivations are either bland or entirely nonexistent. We never got a real backstory for him other than a few thoughtboxes in the Flash 1/2 issue, we never got to see how he’d blossom under a competent writer pre-New 52, his entire existence seemed to be one of those famous Johns dropped plots. He feels like he should have a bigger role than he does, and is in fact the legacy Rogue with the least number of pre-New 52 appearances. Which is ironic, because he’s the only legacy Rogue that escaped erasure with the rest of the old universe. His few appearances in the New 52 Flash title, the Rebirth Flash title, and non-canon books like Injustice have given him more of a character than all of his time under Johns, and he’s better off for it. Except for the Injustice universe, where he’s dead.

I guess all I can say is, the kid was interesting enough to deserve better, but it took his old universe being wiped out and replaced for him to get it. Bummer.