#but the gender of the black parade uniforms

[myheadphonesareneverloudenough]

The Black Parade is an incredible example that everything is better when Gerard Way gets to dress up their friends.

[murfpersonalblog]

Thanks for tagging me @little-desi-historian! ❤️

YES, all of this takes me back to something I wanted to touch a lot more on in my original post when it comes to the historical male image, Percy, Lestat, and Matadors; because it truly does link back to how AMC is playing with dandyism and society's expectations about effeminate men.

Dandyism is a form of resistance culture. As I've said before, Lestat flouts gender norms because HE CAN do whatever he wants & get away with it. His androgyny's on a different level: effeminate or masculine, he's still a vampire, a SUPERnatural creature elevated beyond the bounds of social mores that determine what men & women could or SHOULD act/dress like. MANY people across social media have pointed to Lestat's limp wrists, long blonde "Barbie" hair and ESPECIALLY him dressing in drag in Ep7 as proof that he's the "wife/mother/woman/femme fatale" in Lousta's relationship, and THEN claim its either gender essentialism or homophobic/racist to say Louis is CANONICALLY female-coded one in BOTH the books and show (as AR said so). But no, Lestat in drag was a power move, because he doesn't care what anyone thinks/says/does--he'll just eat them. Mockingly eating the baby in a dress was a deliberate bastardization of motherhood/womanhood. Louis is called every homophobic name in the book by those expecting the black man to just take being insulted, but MARQUIS de Lioncourt DEMANDS being crowned KING of Mardi Gras, Krewe of Raj, & he'll show you exactly what he thinks about your silly homophobic hypocritical human society: You're just "the MEAT," let them eat KING Cake--you're his FOOD. Eff y'all, I'm dressed to KILL you, & laugh doing it.

Lestat's behavior is not only derived from the time period he was born & raised in (the Rococo era of so-called "effeminate" high class dandies--a la Percy Blakeney, etc). Lestat is the embodiment of PRIVILEGE: a powerful rich white male vampire, who leans into being foreign/French White to excuse anything he does that people find strange/off/unnatural/dangerous--all the red flags. 🚩🚩🚩

And red flags brings me directly back to matadors/toreros.

@toscrollperchancetomeme

😂 TYSM! Sam Reid dropped so many juicy deets; I couldn't resist! There's so much depth to the Matador outfit, beyond the gendered aspect of bullfighting that I discussed before. Let's go back to what Sam said about Lestat, and delve deeper into matadors:

The most iconic apparel worn by toreros ("bullfighters") / matador de toros ("killer of bulls") in Spanish bullfighting is the Traje de Luces, the "Suit of Lights." The colors are usually bright & vivid, as part of the showmanship & pizzazz. Darker palettes are less common, as shiny sequins (the luces/lights) became part of the standard fit.

However, Lestat's all-black Matador outfit from what Sam called the "villain sequence" in Ep5 seems to be loosely following the style of a different but very closely related outfit, the Traje Campero "Rural/Countryside Suit" aka Traje Corto ("Short Suit").

(These costumes are typically worn during ceremonial parades and a very specific festival I'll get back to in a moment, cuz it's important.) Unlike the Suit of Light's sequins & silk, the Rural Suit is made of suede, leather, or velvet, in dark muted colors. The pants can be light or dark, striped & patterned, with or without chaps (also found in gentleman's uniforms of military officers and cowboys).

The trajes originated from "the flamboyant costumes of the 18th-century dandies and showmen involved in bullfighting, which later became exclusive to the bullfighting ritual." (Wikipedia)

The ancestor of both trajes (luces/campero) is traditional 17th-19th century Andalusian clothing (Andalusia being the home of Spanish bullfighting), closely associated with a very particular type of masculine dandyism. (The campero/corto is also the costume worn by Andalusian male flamenco dancers.)

"Before the 17th century the profession of bullfighting did not exist as such, and the fighters did not wear luxurious & shiny trajes de luces, but instead normal clothes of the time according to the social class to which the bullfighter belonged. The first bullfighter trajes de toreros appeared in the 17th century, when professional bullfighters from Navarre & Andalusia wore characteristic garments with their gangs to participate in performances and thus differentiate themselves from other bullfighter bands." (translated/truncated from Spanish website)

In the mid-1700s, Francisco Romero revolutionized professional bullfighting by establishing the first matadors who fought on foot, heroically fighting the bull face to face with swords & the muleta (iconic red flag) in a dance-like performance, dressed in a suede/velvet coleto (jacket), a precursor to the traje campero. Romero (from a carpenter family) wanted to show off & stand out from the nobility, and changed the game entirely, through a form of social resistance-turned-innovation.

"At that time, bullfighting on horseback was more important, which was considered a sport and not a show. Bullfighting on foot was not yet widely recognized." (translated from Spanish website)

Bull-killing on horseback was practiced by Spanish noblemen, attended by lower class assistants on foot. Romero was the first to make on-foot matadors the stars of what was increasingly becoming a dandified show/performance/dance. Matador Joaquin "Costillares" Rodríguez introduced even more showmanship, competing against Francisco Romero's grandson Pedro Romero (famously painted by Goya--bottom right).

For his matches, Costillares (middle) dressed in flashy silks, threaded in shiny silver braiding; the precursor to modern traje de luces. Like Francisco Romero (left), Costillares wanted to show off & stand out; and revolutionized the male image of the bullfighter through clothes.

In 18th-19th century Andalusian Spain there were 2 types of dandy: the French-imported upperclass petimetre (effeminate dandy), and the indigenous working class majo (masculine/macho dandy).

Noyes, Dorothy. “La Maja Vestida: Dress as Resistance to Enlightenment in Late-18th-Century Madrid.” The Journal of American Folklore 111, no. 440 (1998): 197–217. https://www.jstor.org/stable/541941

The majo, like many dandies, became the peak of Andalusian fashion, across all social classes; and torero/matador outfits weren't the only ones to take cues from them:

18th-19th century majos "distinguished themselves by their elaborate outfits and sense of style in dress and manners, as well as by their cheeky behavior. The majos outfits were exaggerations of traditional Spanish dress. The style stood in strong contrast to the French styles affected by many of the Spanish elite under the influence of the Enlightenment. Majos were known to pick fights with those they saw as afrancesados ("Frenchified" – fops)." (Wikipedia)

The majos' flamboyant/cheeky/saucy/exaggerated behavior was aggressively masculine; a lower/working class resistance to social mores imposed on them by (foreign) elites, whom they saw as more feminine, and FOUGHT against, to reaffirm their masculinity. These dandies were violent, brazen non-conformists; as beautiful & stylish as they were dangerous. And matadors/toreros knew that the bullfight was the perfect arena to exemplify the spirit of the majos through the dandified performance art/sport of killing bulls--a universal cultural symbol of masculine prowess & strength. Spanish bullfighting used to belong solely to the aristocratic equestrian sphere. Lowly pages/assistants like Francisco Romero (dressed in the precursor to the Rural/Countryside Suit), were the first to buck the system by killing bulls on foot--he likely didn't own a horse. The Romeros were from a carpenter family. Costillares was the son of a butcher. But through bullfighting they gained social status and became icons of masculinity--and dandies.

Lestat--the nouveau riche son of a poor country marquis--insists on being all the beautiful things he is without apology: masculine & effeminate alike. But like I said, it was no coincidence that Carol likened Lestat's Ep5 villain outfit with matadors--he's fighting Louis for dominance in their household, and reaffirming his place at the top of their very gendered social hierarchy, as a warning to BOTH "the housewife" AND "the prodigal daughter" he feels are threatening his authority as their Maker, so he defeats them BOTH.

Carol Cutshall initially designed Lestat's matador pants as pajamas--loungewear. (Lestat's CASUAL & comfortable in his ability to KILL--matador means "Killer" in Spanish--and remember what I said about Louis & Claudia being put on the same parallel level in Ep5, when Claudia's attacked by "Killer" aka Bruce.) Sam said Carol made several versions of the pants; and yup, they're foreshadowed in Ep5 when Lestat first starts arguing about Louis' depression, then they pop up again in Ep7 during the Murder Plot--two instances @dwreader brilliantly linked Lestat (& Stanley Kowalski) wearing wifebeaters. (Listen, Carol, I just wanna talk.... 😅🔫)

And here's my last points about Lestat's matador outfit. First there's the irony of Lestat (who grew up poor in rural France) wearing the something very similar to the matador/torero's Rural Suit, traje campero (aka Short Suit (traje corto)). But what's more interesting is that that type of Short/Rural Suit is usually only worn during special festivals called the Tienta ("trials"), not the regular corrida ("bullfights").

These Tienta are trials for young and immature bulls to be tested in the ring, to see if they're fit for breeding/fighting. 🤯 FLEDGLINGS. And who's Lestat's young bull? "Built-like-a-bird" Claudia. Who's the immature bull? The "biggest rat eater of them all," the under-developed "botched" vampire Louis. During these trials, veteran matadors can show off their skills; and novice bullfighters are shown the ropes and prove themselves. Like I said: the matador wins again.

God, even the way Lestat dragged Louis' bloody body out of the courtyard by the jaw/neck resembles the way the defeated bull--bled out & stabbed in the neck--is dragged by the neck out of the ring.

And remember what I said about Lestat and FOOD. Cuz what happens to the bulls after the matadors kill them? They're sent to the slaughterhouse to be butchered for FOOD. People EAT the bulls.

So yeah, my whole point in this post and my first one is not to sleep on guys like Lestat, Percy--or even other famous dandies like Valmont from Dangerous Liasions/Cruel Intentions (mentioned by both @little-desi-historian and @dwreader)--just because they're effeminate--especially when they're emulating mannerisms from a time period where the model of what made a fashionable gentlemen/good breeding/elite society did NOT match modern expectations about gender. People are getting distracted by Lestat's yaasified manner, not what the show itself is signalling through the relationships he has with others.

This show is deliberately painting Lestat as a villain through Louis' & Claudia's perspectives, as they were the ones who suffered under his Reign of Terror. The symbolism behind the matador-inspired costume used in Ep5 reflected gendered social hierarchies embedded within bullfighting culture (in Spain, women only started being allowed to fight in the 19th-20th centuries). Dressed in clothes resembling that of a matador, Lestat beating & defeating Louis mirrored the defeat of the emasculated bull, and the reification of the victor's masculine prowess at the top of the foodchain.

[roses-bah-garden]

May I claim the keyword drink from the specials list please? :3c

here you are! this is my scrunkly avinius, he's the god of alcohol, drunkenness, and vineyards! he is the 3rd born in a 5 sibling family.

a new flower has blossomed! 🌹

masc aligned, deity, alcoholic ... [LVL 4 PACK]

══════════════════

name(s) ;; avinius, vinny, vino, red, bacchus

pronouns ;; he/him

age ;; ancient, presents around 50 years old

species ;; deity (transhuman)

gender(s) ;; AMAB transmasc

orientation(s) ;; demisexual, biromantic, fem preference

role(s) ;; trauma holder / socializer

source ;; brainmade / alter packs

sign-off(s) ;; – 🍇❤

══════════════════

appearance ;; 5'10". thin and bony. dark brown skin with smile lines on his face. dark, almost black, eyes. curly short black hair with grey temples. gold eyeliner. long fingers. his favourite outfit is a red and gold marching band uniform.

personality ;; brash, yet charming. he loves loud music, people, and parties! he uses his extroverted behaviour as a cover for his trauma, and to release stress and tension.

══════════════════

likes ;; alcohol (especially wine), parades, musical theatre

dislikes ;; FOMO, being alone

possible front triggers ;; drinking, attending parties

══════════════════

cisid(s) ;; cisalcoholic, cisADHD, addictive personality, middle child, cistraumatized, cisBlack, cisItalian, cismixedrace, cisMED

transid(s) ;; transIMD, transhypersexual, transseverity (trauma -> less), transspecies (human), transmemoryloss

trisid(s) ;; trismasculine, trisharmful

kink/fetish/para(s) ;; dipsophilia, fictonecrophilia, somnophilia, dubcon

[angstics]

(sources: nyt 2014, bryan ferry: 1976, 1979, maximilianmogg.de 2021, gerard way: 2005, sleek 2016, bowie: 1973, 1978, ama 2014, gerard way: 2014)

gerard way on style, authenticity, gender, british music from the 70s and 90s... and COSTUMES. that was just a primer on the topic i actually want to talk about, which is how different the outfits this past tour have been stylistically from anything gerard has PULLED FROM or DONE.

this entire run, 2022-23, the closest gerard ever got to wearing something he would've worn during the first period (01-13) was the when we were young shows. part making fun: the second night (the first was cancelled) they wore a replica of their revenge album run outfit with HEAVY old age makeup. part homage: night three, they wore something so reminiscent of colleen atwood's work that in conjunction with gerard's tour designer (marina toybina) saying atwood worked with gerard on something not specified and toybina not claiming this outfit as she usually would, led people to believe this was the work of atwood. which is significant because she designed the original black parade costumes!

(wwwy2, wwwy3, 2004, 2006)

every single other show was unique in some way. from the tshirts to loose jeans to short shorts to tight skirts to a nurse uniform to a full joan of arc get-up. this isnt to say they didnt divert from the "uniform" back in the day with other outfits -- but the new stuff either became the new regular or they were rare. they were always on theme. even beyond that, the wwwy looks are what people know them for. it's part anti-marketing -- no defintion, no statement. they just performed and people loved it. the only person to even publicize it is toybina, who just talked about the craft.

it's also part anti-glam aesthetically. for a decade, the same figures informed gerard's performance style. in evolving past The Past, he moves away from those figures. never entirely, especially not in artistic ideology. like you can see traces of ferry's idea of the authentic self interrupting expectations or bowie's evolution into softer adaptations of past selves -- but not as much as the hesitant alien look which was explicitly about that. looking at original glam rock style like bowie as ziggy stardust, there is an accentuation, drama, and single vision which defined mcr's revenge and early black parade aesthetics. those periods were gerard's biggest dedication to hair and make up until hesitant alien, which he describes as a return to glam.

looking at the tour vision today, it has none of these qualities. ive talked about how the outfits (mostly) arent highly dramatic or highly gendered, which is why i dont think calling it drag fits. esp on the drama point, that's a key aspect of glam missed. there's no makeup, no accentuation, no BIGNESS. the tour is marked by its long-range simplicity. when the drama comes, it's in the dirty and off-putting, not style. it's interesting that when way does act as a character, like the office worker or dracula, it's entirely physical like a stage actor not a singer. though those are just sparks. he doesnt "break" because it's just gerard as we know him.

one final thread to address here is the gender sphere. if gerard explicitly pulled from glam rock mcr 1.0 into hesitant alien, and he's mostly divorced from glam now... where is all this newfound gender presentation exploration coming from? from female archetypes (cheerleader, jackie-o) to theatrical gender neutrality (any of the body suits) to what wouldve been called "metrosexual" in 2006 (atlanta, nj2) to just a general feminine outfit (firefly, 8/9 of the 2023 leg) -- the artist has their source, meaning, motivation, sure. this step back from talking about anything is sooooooo genius for getting people to take what they want from the tour's artistic output. interpretation fuels discussion. people keep talking about the possible narratives of the albums. people keep talking about the constructed interpersonal narratives. people will keep talking about the mysterious narrative of this tour.

what people have taken from the looks of this tour is that they are a recontextualization of symbols gerard has always connected to -- one example is how cheerleaders went from an old failed pitch to the im not okay mv to revenge photoshoots to the blood and teenagers mvs. but unlike the wwwy outfits, he isnt using the symbols in the same way. it's entirely new that he becomes the exploited female figure he's attached to. the inspiration is the self. there's no avoidance. i think "foundations" had a lot do with the direction of the tour -- its self-reflection forming a new image, in both lyrics and sound, is exactly what the tour looks have been about. not Glam, not Post Glam... not mcr 1.0, not not mcr 1.0... making up new words for an old language to write stories not possible with just the old

[symphonic-scream]

Here's a bunch more of the Gender Thieves

Futaba has the Thieves' Chat named "Fruity Bitch Parade" which, is fitting. They also assign each of the thieves a nickname as their contact name and shit just. They lightly haze them all it's a thing they do

So the Thieves at Shujin include Futaba, Ann, (A)Kira, and Makoto. Then Yusuke isn't in proper school they're in a conservatory, and Ryuji and Hifumi are at Kosei

So let's talk about the Shujin uniforms, ft Shiho and Haru!

Starting with Futaba, they wear the uniform normally, blazer buttoned up, skirt, but with bright green crocs, varying gamer themed socks, and with headphones around their neck

Kira! Blazer buttoned, black choker with a red heart, red headband, skirt rolled up once so it's an inch higher, knee socks, black loafers. Nothing too special, she tries to fly under the radar

Time for Ann. Open blazer, a volleyball team jacket under it, so it's red with a white zipper, red hood with the white inside. Black hair tie, wears the skirt a little high, I'm debating the knee pads. It would be funny if she wore them all the time, but, that's not realistic. And, pink runners, and the basic black crew socks

MAKOTO. At first it's canon Makoto, but then they get saved and come out and, well. Blazer is gone, instead it's an oversized blue plaid hoodie/jacket. They get their hands on some slightly large uniform pants, just big enough that they bunch up a bit, the crotch is lower, etc. They also wear the suspenders down, and some scuffed up dark blue vans type sneakers

Shiho is, canon, only she makes it to the end of the year. Thats all she's there the whole time

And, Haru. Our sweet boy. No blazer here, he subs it out for a pink formal sweater, a crew neck pull-over type. He wears suspenders under it, but you can't really see them. Just know they're there. His pants are always perfectly correct. He has some dress shoes too!

And. Psst. Makoto's suspenders? From Haru. Took his spares.

I have so much for Makoto and Haru since they're where this started. So, so much for them.

Makoto and Haru both have different favourite cuddle positions, and then there's one they both agree is amazing

Haru's favourite, especially after his top, is Makoto's head where his shoulder turns to upper arm, their arms wrapped snugly around his waist. It's the perfect position for him to admire their sleeping face, the cute little half smile, their little light snores, Haru adores it

Makoto prefers having their boyfriend on them like a weighted blanket. Lying between their legs, head over their belly, holding them like a giant pillow. Makoto loves to watch him sleep, and play with his hair. This position gives them the easiest access to both, while having Haru hold them like he's never letting go

And, of course, the compromise. Lying on their sides, Makoto tucked just under his chin, both holding the other so tight it's like they're one

Just. Makoto lying on Haru's bed in the gym uniform shorts and some T-shirt they bought with Ryuji post gym shopping, and Haru smiles from his desk. He loves them so much. Makoto finished their homework an hour before he did, and has been watching anime on their phone. The little Buchimaru socks.

Haru: hey, I'm done, didnt make you wait too long, did I?

Makoto: nah, but, you can still give me some kisses to convince me further?

And he carefully lies over them, and they share some lazy, sweet kisses

The Thieves in this are very used to their Emperor splitting their attention during meetings, texting under the table, while still helping plan things as if they weren't flirting with their boyfriend. It's a whole thing they're all low-key amazed

Also like. The only thieves that go by he being the little butch, bleached-hair nose-ring boy, and the prettiest most Gender one of them all is. A little funny to me (Makoto, Ryuji, and Yusuke)

Please. Ask me more about them I love them

[republicsecurity]

Conscription and Service Organizations in the Republic

The Republic, a authoritarian state situated in Europe, has established a distinctive societal framework revolving around environmental conservation and service-oriented ideologies.

Central to the state's dominant ideology is the protection and restoration of the environment, coupled with a strong emphasis on service and duty for its male citizens. This has culminated in the establishment of a comprehensive network of conscript and indentured labor.

Every male citizen is mandated to engage in conscript service, which varies in duration, ranging from one to three years. The Republic has nurtured an intricate network of service education and organizations, aimed at channeling the nation's manpower into various sectors that uphold its core principles.

Within the framework of the Republic's security forces, a range of distinct services operate, each relying on conscripted and indentured labor alongside reservists to uphold their respective mandates. These services not only ensure the nation's security but also perpetuate the overarching ideology.

A Paramedic Cadet, training with drones in the field.

Paramedic Corps Members of the Paramedic Corps, distinguished by their red uniforms, undergo rigorous and extensive conditioning to fulfill their emergency service responsibilities. Their duties encompass what was once known as ambulance services, fire services, disaster response, and civil defense. The Corps prides itself on its rapid response and life-saving measures in the face of various emergencies.

A member of the Nursing Corps in their Parade Uniform. Nurses use their as a non gender pronoun.

Nursing Corps Clad in white uniforms, the Nursing Corps operates with a similar ethos of conditioning, albeit with a focus on nursing, preventive medicine, medical research, and home care. The members of this corps play a pivotal role in maintaining the health and well-being of the population, championing a holistic approach to healthcare.

Lifeguards during maritime Security Operations.

Life Guards Dressed in yellow uniforms, Life Guards are tasked with water rescue, the oversight of public pools, search and rescue operations, maritime law enforcement, and safeguarding aquatic environments. Members of this corps undergo a base level of conditioning, ensuring that they are equipped to respond effectively in water-related emergencies.

Security Forces on patrol on Skateboards

Security Forces Adorning black uniforms, the Security Forces engage primarily in ideological indoctrination. Their tasks encompass law enforcement, prison administration, border control, air traffic management, and the protection of national parks. This service plays a critical role in maintaining order and ensuring the Republic's security.

Environmental Corps Conscripts digging. The EnviroCorps is know for demanding hard physical labor.

Enviro Corps While not uniformed in the conventional sense, the members of the Enviro Corps don distinct working attire as they commit themselves to the preservation of the environment. Unlike the other security forces, they do not undergo intensive ideological conditioning. It is also low on hierarchy and mostly respects the Conscripts Identities. The Enviro Corps is responsible for reforestation, tree planting, wetland conservation, environmental protection, and various cleanup initiatives.

A conscript in the Life Guards training a Group of Cadets

Youth Groups

The diverse array of security organizations within the Republic also manifests in the differing approaches to engaging with the youth. Several of these entities, such as the Paramedic and Life Guard Corps, have established intricate structures of youth groups, fostering a sense of camaraderie, discipline, and dedication to their respective services from an early age. In contrast, the Security and Enviro Corps have adopted varying levels of engagement, with the latter notably emphasizing a grassroots spirit of environmentalism. Additionally, select organizations, including the Paramedic, Life Guard Corps, and Security, operate academies and cadet groups that provide specialized education and training to future members, further ingraining their commitment to service and ideology from a young age.

Two members of the Security Forces kissing.

Fostering a Gay friendly environment.

One recognized consequence of the comprehensive conditioning processes employed within these security organizations is a notable shift in the spectrum of sexual preferences, often leaning towards same-gender attraction.

While not all members identify as LGBTQ+ at the beginning of their service, the Paramedic, Life Guard, and Nursing Corps have been particularly noteworthy for their efforts in this regard and are open to homosexuals desired developed through the conditions process. Nurses are often androgynous, while the presentation of the Paramedics is distinctly male.

The security organizations of the Republic also strive to create an inclusive and welcoming environment for individuals of homosexual orientations, and the conscripts are encouraged to act out their desires.

A Paramedics Dog Tag

ID Codes

Each individual serving is assigned a unique random identification code to distinguish them within the organization. These codes often serve as a replacement for their names, ensuring consistent and standardized identification throughout the organization, but also shaping of the identity.

In most organisations these are accompanied by a system of Ranks, Occupation and Status.

For example a complete designator in the Paramedic Corps would look like this: E5/ITS/4021/D1LL0. Wheres E5 is the rank, ITS the status, 4021 the occupation and D1LL0 the individual ID.

A member of the paramedic corps in an old experimental neuro condition system. Present day Systems are sleeker and require less invasive methods.

Conditioning

The practice of conditioning within the Republic's security forces has sparked controversy, particularly in relation to the extensive and rigorous conditioning endured by members of the Paramedic and Nursing Corps. While proponents argue that this conditioning ensures optimal performance, critics contend that it may infringe upon personal autonomy and individuality.

Summary

In the Republic, the distinct security forces collectively embody the nation's commitment to both its citizens' well-being and the environment. Each service operates within a framework that emphasizes conditioning, service, and the fulfillment of its unique responsibilities. Through their collective efforts, these security forces contribute to the Republic's enduring ethos of service and environmental stewardship.

[meet-the-thenardiers]

"The one where I decided to play Victor Hugo"

Y'know, I truly wanted to see an adaptation of Les Misérables set in some Latin American country, and also in a more modern setting.

Yes, I know that some elements of the original novel could probably be lost due to the change in time period (and place), but at least there would be a HUGE chance of seeing little Euphrasie "Cosette" Fauchelevent wearing school clothes that looked like these:

(In case you're curious, these pictures are from two Mexican soap operas, "Gotita de Amor" and "Carita de Àngel")

And don't even get me started on the First Communion dresses.

(I don't know for sure if this applies to all Latin American countries, but I know it was a common occurrence until some point – ​​especially during the late 19th and 20th century)

And while we're on the subject, allow me to give you a little piece of history:

So, the school I attended as a child was originally designed to be a school for girls and young women only. A "single-gender school", if you will.

Here is a short excerpt from a local news report about the school:

"On July 21, 1903, eight Benedictine Sisters arrived in Olinda, Pernambuco [...] They were invited to help in the future mission in the Amazon region. As this mission took a long time to be carried out, the sisters found another field of apostolate: in the catechesis and education of youth."

From the beginning, the Benedictine Sisters have dedicated themselves to the education of young people and women above all else. Schools have been established in the places where they have settled. Thus, throughout their history, many types of educational institutions have emerged [...] including a College in Olinda and a Conservatory of Music in Manila. In the Philippines, the Sisters run 25 schools belonging to the Congregation, with approximately 30.000 students. In addition to these educational institutions, there are other educational institutions, such as: Household Schools, Dressmaking Courses, Schools for the Disabled, Nursing Schools and Bible Schools. In addition, courses of all kinds are offered to meet the specific needs of people."

YES, THE BENEDICTINE SISTERS ARE BACK EVERYONE

Normally, schools of this type, in this case, those that were "single-gender", were private – requiring a certain amount of money to be paid each month. But for students who came from poorer families, it was possible to get a scholarship.

I don't know much about this information, but apparently there were some rooms available within the school property, where students could stay overnight during the week. This was because e some of the students lived in places that were far from the city (in rural areas for example) and this made it difficult for them to have to travel every day to attend classes.

Since that was where the nuns lived, they had no problems regarding food, comfort or safety of the students either.

And, of course, no boys were allowed

The uniforms, as you will see in the images below, consisted in:

Long-sleeved white blouses. But there were also short-sleeved blouses for outdoor activities.

Long, dark blue pleated skirts with suspenders;

White socks;

Black shoes;

White gloves and a dark blue beret – which matched the tone of the skirts.

I had one of those by the way, but we didn't use it on a daily basis, only on special school occasions: like church, the school anniversary and marching band parades.

Unfortunately (or not), by the time I attended the school, many of the original traditions had been lost over time. The nuns were no longer responsible for teaching the classes – but they still lived on the school property, three of them more specifically. Both girls and boys could study at the school, and our curriculum was no longer the same.

Now, imagine my shock when I discovered that my aunt, her sisters and friends (who also attended this school) used to have French lessons. They even learned how to sing the French national anthem...

I was a little jealous of them, to be honest 😭

[thepunkmuppet]

I just realised I didn’t actually say mine wtf I can’t believe I ignored my primal urge to tweak out about this man on main

I picked hesitant alien!! there’s just something sooooooo indescribably gender about it I don’t even KNOW, like I feel like if you asked him what his pronouns were he would like. glitch at you

swarm tour bullets and teacher weren’t far behind. my actual favourite looks of his are bloody secretary, cheerleader, the school uniform in the I’m not okay music video (they are the master of the wicket), black parade is dead, the short red hair, that one performance of teenagers with the black mullet and suit (RRRAAAAHGHGHH I’m very very normal about that one), short bleached blonde hair idk which performance it was but the pictures are GORGEOUS, school uniform photoshoot with the bloody nose, projekt revolution 2007, and that one picture of him I think maybe in college or smth (or he just looked really young) where he looks like the self destructive female main character of a 90’s show’s sweet high school boyfriend who’s gonna get his heart broken

reblog for bigger sample size emos

[fallouttboy]

okay. thoughts on my first mcr show (08-23-22)

tw: suicidal past mentions, implied homo-and transphobia

setlist:

The Foundations of Decay

Boy Division

Our Lady of Sorrows

Give 'Em Hell, Kid

House of Wolves (oh my god)

Summertime

Teenagers

Thank You for the Venom

I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

DESTROYA

Na Na Na

The World Is Ugly (first time. since 2008.)

This Is the Best Day Ever

Welcome to the Black Parade

Mama

Sleep

Famous Last Words

Helena

Encore:

Vampire Money

Hang 'Em High

The Kids From Yesterday

the setlist blew my mind. never in my life could i have ever imagined seeing the world is ugly, not even because it’s rare, but because i have never (even now) been able to wrap my head around the fact that mcr is real.

i got into mcr in middle school. i was 12. they went on hiatus the year after. i made a bucket list of things i had to do before i could kill myself, listing two impossibilities so i could never actually do it. being floor for mcr was an impossibility. but i just did it.

the line outside smelled of cigarettes and was pouring with neurodivergent, non-cis, non-heterosexual people. of course there were those who fit in the opposition, but it was such a group of outcasts, of those who the world hates, of those who have been shunned our whole lives for simply being who we are. so we have hidden it.

standing in line with the people like that, stim-bouncing and fiddling right along with them (because, for some reason, it felt safe to do so in public.)-i felt right. i’ve always wondered what it felt like to belong, to fit into a crowd. past concerts are the only closest thing ive ever gotten, but nothing stood up to tonight.

(i have lived here my whole life. i know the atmosphere.) tennessee is not known for liberality, certainly not being queer accepting. the bigger cities, such as nashville and memphis, have slowly become more and more accepting, but there are still people who parade down Broadway and surrounding areas promoting conservative and outdated views on queerness. this is a big deal, especially as a non binary and homosexual person. needless to say, gender has been very difficult for me growing up, and gerard way was singlehandedly the biggest hero for me in that realm.

gerard way coming on to stage in tennessee, homophobic and transphobic tennessee (again-i live here, i am aware of the atmosphere), wearing a short cheerleader’s uniform and shaved legs, long shaggy hair cradled on their shoulders-i could never have imagined. seeing my personal gender affirming hero coming out dressed so blatantly feminine was such a defining and important moment for me. they have always embraced femininity. they have always embraced queer-genderism. but to see them, to see gerard way of iconic band my chemical romance, in a skirt. such a simple act. such a simple message. but for me, a non binary person who has always seen gerard’s gender as the base, i have never in my life felt more seen. more accepted. ever.

hearing the songs that mean the world to me really hits me as i write this. summertime has always been my favorite from danger days and possibly ever, seconded by kids from yesterday (dd only lol, but she is way up on my list). the melodic romance of it all, the simplistic painting of running away, or removing headphones to hear the world again and ask the person to help quiet things. being a kid from yesterday, from the past, only living in the lights You make. realizing that you are growing, you are aging, you are always a child from the past and will forever hold them inside of you, no matter the future or what comes. living. being alive. out of spite or for yourself. hearing those songs live….hearing the guitar, hearing gerard’s vocals crooning, truly experiencing the lyrics as they were written. it’s amazing.

nashville’s show is the third. it is genuinely unbelievable that so much happened. never have i ever felt so alive. so correct. so affirmed and seen and loved and cared for. hearing the crowd sing of being alive, or staying alive, or refusing to succumb to the pressures and hatred that the outside world spews upon us was so healing. it was amazing to see thousands of people who have all had some sort of communal struggle-be it gender or sexuality or mental illness-come together and celebrate being alive…i will never forget this feeling.

i will never forget gerard way coming onto stage with a skirt. i will never forget the flashlights turning the arena bright during the world is ugly. i will never forget how it felt to yell at the top of my lungs that i should have been a better son, directed to gerard way themself. they should have been, we could all have been, better sons. i will never, ever forget this night.

to wrap up, tonight was the best night of my life and i’m not saying that in post concert bliss, or starstruck stupidity. genuinely, experiencing thousands of likeminded people come together after so long…i had never been to an mcr show before, yet i felt like i came home, that all those strangers were welcoming me back. most importantly, that mcr themselves were welcoming all of us back, like a mother opening the front door for her children on holidays, despite only seeing them once or twice a year. mcr to me is what a mother should be, what i imagine a mother is like. home, welcoming, loving. accepting. caring. and they always want you back, no matter how far you’ve strayed or how deeply you’ve fallen. they are there to pick you up and kiss your bleeding limbs and heal them with a band aid so you feel alright again, not great, maybe not even good, but good enough to be able to walk and live one more day. then one more. and again. until there are no more days to live, far, far down your lifeline. i hesitate to say anyone saved my life, because ultimately, i am the only one in charge of whether i live or die. but my chemical romance has preserved my life, helped me so much that it is not able to be put to words. the band has been there in the absolute darkest of darks for me, when i genuinely thought that i would not wake the next day. but i did, and they were there. thank you, mcr, for everything.

[lillywillow]

Star Spangled Bingo Masterlist

Here is my completed Materlist for my 2021 Star Spangled Bingo Card.

Puppy Love- Square Filled: Vet Clinic AU, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Gender Neutral Reader

Brother VS Boyfriend- Square Filled: Wade Wilson, Pairing: Steve Rogers X Female Reader

The Pup- Square Filled:”Incoming Already Came In”, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Gender Neutral Reader

Paper Faces On Parade- Square Filled: Royal AU, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Female Reader

Sinners ‘N Saints- Square Filled: 1940′s AU, Pairings: Zemo X Female Reader/ Detective!Steve Rogers X Female Reader

Best Laid Plans- Square Filled: Bed Sharing, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Female Reader

From Russia With Love- Square Filled: Military Base, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Russian!Female Reader

Skincare Party- Square Filled: Playful Relationship, Pairings: Sam Wilson X Female Reader (platonic), Bucky Barnes X Female Reader (platonic), Steve Rogers X Female Reader

Papa Bird- Square Filled: Next Generation Fic, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Female Reader

Comforting Home- Square Filled: Singing in the Shower, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Gender Neutral Reader

Healing Hands- Square Filled: Hospital AU, Pairing: Nurse!Steve Roger X Doctor!Female Reader

Tina- Square Filled: Home Alone, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Plus Sized!Female Reader

Cold Heart Of The Wild- Square Filled: White Wolf, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Female Reader

Fatherhood- Square Filled: Pregnancy, Pairing: Steve Rogers X Female Reader

Curses!- Square Filled: “Need A Medic?”, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Gender Neutral Reader

Birthday Wishes- Square Filled: Free Square, Pairings: Single Dad!Bucky Barnes X Female Reader/ Steve Rogers X Peggy Carter

Measured Up- Square Filled: Uniform, Pairing: Steve Rogers X Gender Neutral Reader

The Adventures Of Poppy and Alpine- Square Filled: Rescue Mission, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Gender Neutral Reader

Wedding Bells- Square Filled: Best Man/ Maid of Honor, Pairings: Bucky X Female Reader/ Steve Rogers X Peggy Carter

Swapped- Square Filled: Steve’s Compass, Pairing: Steve Rogers X Gender Neutral Reader

Checkmate- Square Filled: Queens, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Female Reader

Haunted- Square Filled: Ebony Maw, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Gender Neutral Reader

Safari- Square Filled: Black Panther, Pairing: Steve Rogers X Female Reader

Game On- Square Filled: “I’m Turning Into You. It’s Like A Horrible Dream”, Pairing: Sam Wilson X Gender Neutral Reader

Splat- Square Filled: “People Who Shoot At You Usually Wind Up Shooting At Me, Too”, Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Gender Neutral Reader

[flying-nightwing]

Double Cross (Jason Todd)

Hi people! So this is my little project I was talking about. A sudden blurb of inspiration led me to this and uh. Here it is! Once again, this is super experimental so yeah idk about its potential. You’ll be the judge of that I guess

This time I worked on time jumps back and forth and perspectives, so let me know how it turned out!

Masterlist in bio/pinned!

Pairing: Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 6937

Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk it’s dc so you know what you’re into 

-- 36 hours ago --

Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as you flew down Washington DC's streets. Your motorcycle was burning under you, and you had a feeling you were on the clock to get off of this ticking time bomb before it exploded and brought you down with it. The bullet holes broke the black paint, decorating your bike in a way that flagged unwanted attention. About six blocks ago, unmarked cars had joined your fast paced parade across the city.

A terrible mistake, all of this was. That was certain. 

You took a sharp right, your knee scraping on the asphalt on the way. An infernal noise came out of your bike, but you still willed it to accelerate on the straight alley. You shot back on the main roads like a bullet, swerving around the black police car that had tried to cut you off. But soon enough, you saw the blockade on the street in front of you. You could never jump it with your bike so in disarray, and there were no viable alleys to sneak into. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, then exhaled.

"I'm sorry Jason" You muttered to yourself. "But you left me no choice"

With a firm grip, you pressed the brakes and came to a stop a fair distance from the blockade. You turned off your bike and kicked the foot to hold it up, slowly getting off and pulling your hands up. Shouts erupted around you as the police mobilised themselves in tight formations, guns up and ready to shoot. With one hand up, you undid your tinted black helmet and let it fall to the ground. 

"On your knees!" An officer shouted as he approached. "Keep your hands where I can see them"

You complied.

-- Now --

The white of the neons glaring down on you made your already tired eyes hurt, saturating your vision with a harsh and constant flash of light. You were left alone with a room temperature glass of water on your left and your own reflection on your right. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew they were there, observing you. Instead, all you could see was the dark bags under your eyes and your messy greasy hair. 

You perked up when two men in suits came in by the door in front of you, thin files in their hands and calculating glances. They were nicely dressed, one with a gray suit and the other, black. Both suits were obviously tailored to them. They sat down in front of you and observed you before the one in the gray suit spoke. Dark hair, blue eyes, taller than the other, maybe around six feet.

“Good morning, Agent”

You only nodded, looking down to the table. 

“My name is Agent Baker,” He said. “My colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefing”

“Sure” You nodded again.

Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. “Please tell us again why you are here today”

“I am--” You paused, clearing your throat. “I am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardon” 

“Which wanted criminal should that be?”

“The Red Hood” You said, meeting his eyes. “I have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.”

“How come you know all of this?” He asked, his voice neutral. “No seasoned agent has ever managed to get this close to him, let alone a rookie. We want to know how you gained his trust, start from the beginning, spare no details. Leave nothing out”

“I met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuania” You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. “I was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasn’t supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it ever…”

They had known you were coming. A whole grab and go operation had been compromised by the feeling of invincibility of the CIA, that looked down so much on whoever they went against that they never stopped to think that maybe--maybe--they were prepared.

So when the Alpha team stormed the country house where the General was supposed to be kept and found it empty, all action plans were thrown out the window. The Beta team was mobilised to close off all the roads surrounding the area and to search for the hostage. You were ordered to search a single decaying house in between two pine trees because the structure was so old, so  nobody could have ever been hiding in its debris. However, as you were leaving, you heard whimpers coming from the cellar a few feet away from the foundations. Carefully, you made your way to the wooden doors on the ground, and after making sure your magazine was full and the safe of your semi automatic off, you kicked the doors open and raced down the stairs.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off” You yelled, pointing your gun at the first person you saw. It was clearly a man, wearing a bright red helmet that shone under the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. He slowly held up his hands, but he didn’t seem so bothered. Your eyes found another man next, tied to a chair and wearing a bag on his head. The military uniform was a dead giveaway of his identity, so you returned your full attention to the red helmet guy. “You’re going to back up and face the wall now”

“Or what?” He challenged. “You’ll ‘blow my head off’?”

“Shut up!” You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. “Do as I fucking say”

“You’re CIA uh?” He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didn’t seem worried at all by the situation he was in. “Should have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as they’re good pals with the good ol’ US of A right?”

“God would you just fucking shut up and back up” You were getting impatient, but also nervous. You were alone without backup, with a guy in a red helmet who was clearly taunting you, and you had never shot anyone before. It was your first oversea mission, and already it was fucking catastrophic.

“See, that’s the thing” He held a finger up. “You’re pointing a gun at me like I’m the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. You’re going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Florida’s golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles away”

You remained silent.

“Oh, did you not know about the mass graves?” He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. “Your friend here decided he wanted to test the new shipment of automatic weapons, because their bullets per minute capacity had been expanded. And what better targets than the group of students that opposed the american military presence in the country? The youngest was 16 and her name was Vera Beliskava. Isn’t that right, Kradiev?”

He pulled the hood from the general to reveal his bloodied and bruised face. He had been gagged and beaten, that was obvious. He looked at you, pleading. 

“You’re the only one who saw” The man in red said, softer this time. “You don’t have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and I’ll make him disappear from the Earth's face permanently without leaving so much as a trace. Nobody else will know, and you will go to sleep knowing you made the world a better place”

You took a breath, a million thoughts running into your head. Who was that guy? Why was he here? Why did he not attack you, while he clearly had a handgun strapped on his thigh? Could he be right about Kradiev? You knew he didn’t have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves? 

“Beta team, report”

You both froze as your comm broke the silence. He gave you a challenging look as you were still debating. You wanted to do good, that’s why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasn’t something you signed up on. 

“Nothing to report on the north road”

“Clear in the valley”

“Farmer’s house empty”

“No traffic on the south road”

You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.

“Pinetree house’s clear” You spoke in a flat line, decided and direct as you lowered your gun. You shut down your comm and glanced at Kradiev, whose relief morphed into fear once again as your decision registered. You averted your eyes. 

“You made the right choice”

“I hope so, or I’m dead” You mumbled. “I’m going back now. Don’t make me regret my decision”

“You won’t”

“So just to be clear,” Agent Baker frowned. “You just… Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?”

“When I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guilty”

“That was not your decision to make” He pointed out.

“I know” You sighed. “That was my first mistake. I-- I lost it for a moment. He mentioned the graves and the victims and there were so many people the same age as them I could think about and I decided with my feelings rather than my judgement. And I’m paying the price today”

“Alright” He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. “When did you cross paths with him again?”

“We were back in America” You continued. “By that time, I was no longer on training wheels. It was a little more than a year later, in Newport Oregon during operation 9004. We were busting a trans pacific drug dealer on the docks when we got unexpected company…”

You were running as well as you could through the maze of freight containers on the docks, trying to push back the pain of the bullet in your leg. You had drawn the fire of the hired gang so your colleagues could proceed, but things went down the drain when you were met with heavier fire than the briefing stated. Outnumbered and outran, you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, you’d take as many of them as you could with you. 

You reopened your eyes and checked the magazine of your gun, letting it drop on the ground and pushing a full one in. You loaded and clicked the safe off, flexing your fingers on the handle as footsteps surrounded you. You spun around and pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even reached your target, two men dropped on his side. 

You weren’t the only shooter. 

Thinking it was backup from your team, you allowed yourself to back up against a container, trying to stop the bleeding. You were starting to feel light headed, but you still had a bit more fight in you. Soon enough, all hostiles were down, and you were in for a surprise. Instead of the black uniform of your colleagues, you looked up to a red bat, a leather jacket and a familiar red helmet. You squinted your eyes and let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Do I even wanna know?” You asked.

“I owed you one” He shrugged. “You okay?”

You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. “Peachy” You gave him a thumbs up. “You were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bag”

“It’s often the case” He said as he rested his hands on his hips. 

“You here for Hiko?”

“Yep” He nodded, then snorted derisively. “Any tips?”

Ever since Kradiev, you have developed a habit of researching your target better. Most of the time, it was a capture or an execution on site, so it didn’t matter the extent of their crimes. But there were moments when you were extracting the package without knowing what came next, and those times usually meant they’ll make them disappear under a new identity, without giving them any repercussion for their actions. This one, Hiko, was the later case, without any plan revealed for when you get him back. He was a known drug trafficker, but he was also rumored to smuggle people back and forth between Asia and North America through the docks he owned. The Red Hood’s appearance was well timed, to say the least. 

“Sneak past the squad through the east” You panted. “If you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, you’ll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure you’re gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him again”

He paused, studying you. “Thanks…” He trailed off. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“Well, you said it yourself” You managed to smirk. “If I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better place”

He didn’t answer with anything else but a quick nod before he climbed the containers and disappeared from your field of vision. You sighed, then reached for your comm. “Alpha 003 to central, I’m down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docks”

“So if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,” Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. “But you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired, it’s been a crazy last two days” 

“Did he offer you any medical help then?” Baker returned on topic. 

“No, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopper” You replied. “I knew he was there for Hiko, not for me. It was a coincidence we crossed paths, and at that point I thought it was the last time I’d see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistake”

“How so?”

“The CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own way” You said, locking eyes with Baker. “The guy’s everywhere, even where we don’t go. And he’s at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You don’t find him, he finds you. And that’s what he did”

“He contacted you after the affair on the docks?” He raised an eyebrow.

“We could say that...”

You finished washing your tea cup when you heard a thud coming in from your living room. Slowly, you grabbed the gun hidden in your cupboard and held it up, quietly making your way to the next room. You rounded the corner and pointed your gun to the man standing with his back to you, registering his identity as he turned around. You must have been a sight in your baby pink pajama shorts and mismatching turquoise tank top, pointing your handgun to a man in a shiny red helmet. 

You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. “Breaking and entering, really?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed” He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. “How did you find me?”

“Like I find anyone” He answered like it was the simplest of evidence. You waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have no intention to reveal his methods. This time, you rolled your eyes. “And I’m here because I wanted to check on your leg”

“No you’re not” You snorted. He would have come months ago if it was about that, and even then, the little you knew about him told you he was not the kind to just check upon people who didn’t mean anything to him. “But I’m doing fine, thanks”

“You’re welcome” He nodded. “And you’re right. I need something from you”

“Well, go ahead, since you’re already in” You gestured at him to go on.

“Wait wait wait” Baker held his hand up. “He broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didn’t call anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said” You replied slowly. 

“And it never occured to you that he was dangerous?”

You paused, thinking your answer over. “No, it didn’t. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy target”

“Fair point” Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker. 

“Now do you want to know what happened or not?” You said, annoyed at the interruption.

“Please, go ahead”

He reached inside his jacket and handed you a file. You took it and opened it, staring at the picture and the description beside it. “This is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking market” He began. “Not only is he friends with your big bosses, but those who were brave enough to try and get him locked up never got anything to stick, and that was the best case scenario. The others either disappeared or ended up dead, so I’m assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stop”

You nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“There’s a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers there” He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. “The CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the card”

“I’m not sure I’m good enough to reach anywhere near it” You mumbled. “But sure, I’ll try”

“No, I believe in you” He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. “What I’m wondering though, is why you’re not asking questions”

“Well, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guy” You said after a moment. “You seem qualified to spot ‘em, and you’d be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so I’m guessing you’re on the mark again”

“Huh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent I’ve ever met”

You snorted. “Well, the more it goes the more I’m questioning the integrity of my employer”

“You keep impressing me” 

“With what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start with”

“Keep talking like this and I might need a cold shower”

“You’re an ass, you know that?” 

He let out a short bark of laughter. “If only you knew”

“I’ll do my best for the invitation” You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. “How can I contact you if I get it?”

He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. “This is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Don’t try and trace me with that, it won’t end well for you”

“Yeah yeah” You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. “I gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, I’m busted”

“Hey, listen” He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. “I make that threat to everyone. It’s only a disclosure thing, I didn’t doubt your motivation”

“To each their own I guess” You shrugged. “Alright. If this is all, please get out of my apartment”

“Oop, sure”

Baker blinked slowly. “And did you? Communicate him the details?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “I managed to get into the chief of operation’s office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Red”

“Red?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Short for Red Hood” Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldn’t speak anytime soon.  

“He kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed man” You smirked, before dropping it instantly. “And I didn’t hear anything from Markstrom, it was like he disappeared for good, which he most likely did. So I guess the Red Hood succeeded in taking him down”

“Jesus Christ” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do I have the feeling it wasn’t the last law you broke?”

“Because it wasn’t”

“Are you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?”

This time, you knew who had broken into your property without even looking. You put the keys into your car and turned the engine on, trying to warm yourself. The Red Hood pulled himself upright from your backseat, shaking his head.

“Your car is very comfortable,” He declared. “You have good taste”

“So that means yes”

“Back at it again with your superior deduction skills” 

“What do you want?” You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker. 

“I’ve been thinking this through,” He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. “You are skilled and you’ve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you might”

“Why do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?” 

“Because I don’t just trust people” He said plainly. “They disappoint me, among other things”

“So why me?”

“Like I said, skills and balls of steel” He repeated. “You went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. That’s enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn away”

“Makes sense” You mumbled as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He buckled his belt like it was a reflex. “Will this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?”

“If that’s what you wish for” He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. “I won’t be the one to limit you”

“Okay, yeah” You nodded. “Where do we start?”

Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. “I shouldn’t be surprised” He spoke after a moment. “But this is Everest high levels of stupid”

“At that time it did seem like a good idea” 

“Yeah, might as well jump off of a bridge…” He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. “Did you do that too?”

“Well, if we consider the time when--”

“You know what, don’t tell me” He cut you off. “Please go on”

“Alright” You held your hands up in surrender. “So, where was I?”

You and the Red Hood operated on the field like a well oiled machine. Your expertise and contacts with the CIA helped him get into places way more easily than alone, and your somewhat reckless ways were compatible with his mode of operation. You knew who he was as well, you found out after he nonchalantly took off his helmet after a stakeout. You had not been prepared for what you saw then, when you were faced with what you could qualify with the most beautiful man you had ever seen. 

“Hey, you okay?” He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.

“Yeah” You replied. “I just wasn’t expecting this”

“Expecting what?”

“I mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes… Obviously I was wrong” 

“So you think I’m hot then?” He snorted derisively.

“I do” 

His head did a whiplash. “Huh?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” You backed away. “Sometimes my filter doesn’t work”

“No it’s--” He tried to find his words, then sighed. “I’m just not used to that, I guess”

“What’s the point of this?” Baker groaned, his head in his hands. 

“It’s a turning point that brought me here today” You explained, turning your palm up briefly. “You asked for details, I’m giving you details”

“I kinda wanna know what went down, to be honest” Tanev added sheepishly.

“Tanev, I’m going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut up”

“Jeez sorry” He mumbled.

“As I was saying”

That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadn’t been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they weren’t looking, the unspoken invitations to stay a moment longer after a mission for a cigarette and a good conversation. He was one of a kind, you had to give that to him. He was passionate, driven, smart in a way that told you he never really had it easy but always made it work somehow; the way he always thought of the less obvious way to do things, how even his messes seemed calculated. 

It was raining in Chicago and the air was crisp. Your muscles ached from the fight in that warehouse against drug lords that enrolled kids in their schemes, that and from the unforgiving cold of January. You had one too many whiskeys back in that little studio flat he rented under a false name, and it led you straight to his bed. Trying to find warmth, trying to find a connection, it didn’t matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him. 

And it didn’t stop there. The night after, and the night after that, always in his company past the business hours. Your chemistry translated way beyond the field, for you found him in a partner in more ways than one. You grew quickly to feel love for him, more than you had ever felt for anyone. The number of times you woke up naked and tangled with him--

“Okay I don’t need to know this-- I do NOT need to know this” Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, you’re sure he would have. 

“You told me to spare no details!” You argued. “This is a detail. I’m being as thorough as I can”

“You know what-- Forget it” He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. “Just get to the part we have interest in, for God’s sake please just skip to that”

“Okay, okay” You muttered, rolled your eyes. “It went well for the first months or so, it was great. Nothing to say on that front, I was happy and fulfilled in this new englobing partnership we had going on. That was my third mistake, to get into that kind of involvement with him. Because then, like all good things must come to an end, mine slowly began crumbling down in my hands”

“Okay” He sighed, half in relief. “Tell me more about that”

“Well, he started to show his true colors” You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. “Sometimes, he became something else. Something dark. And sometimes became most of the time, but I was too in love to see it. He became manipulative, controlling. He was everywhere, in everything I did. It’s like I didn’t even have control on my life anymore…”

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “Dunno, where do you wanna eat?”

“Don’t really care” He shrugged too. “You decide”

“What about chipotle?”

“Sure” He nodded. “Chipotle sounds good”

Tanev shook his head sympathetically. “He wouldn’t even let you choose a restaurant?”

“Never” You looked down, sadness weighing your voice. 

“I’m so sorry you had to live through that”

“Thank you” 

“Alright, moving on” Baker broke the moment. “What happened next?”

“Next? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationships” You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. “We burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wake”

“That was poetic” He pointed out sarcastically. “What the fuck does it mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “We got dangerous for real, Agent Baker” You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. “If you thought I was reckless before, you’ll need to reevaluate your scale. I was in for real. I was his battle horse, his wildcard, his whatever that he needed to succeed. And I was good at it. The worst was, I didn’t even realize he used me as a smoke screen. He put me more and more often in fucked up situations that were way more dangerous for me than him, and I was naive enough to think it was love”

“No. This is not up for discussion”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You said you would let me choose--”

“I said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killed” He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. “This plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. I’m not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.”

“Again, ‘if’ being the keyword” You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. “I am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, you’ve always told me I am”

He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. “I know you can, it’s not about that” His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myself”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. “Okay” You finally said, nodding lightly. “We’ll find another way. Another plan. But we’re hitting that ball out of the park either way, I won’t let Preston get away with it”

He smiled. “Oh no, we won't indeed” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll get him one way or another, I promise”

“I almost feel sorry for you now, Agent” Baker gulped. “I cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefing”

“Of course” You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. “So we planned our next move, but he wouldn’t tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I don’t know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way out”

“And that plan was…”

“Yes” You didn’t have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. “So this brings us to 36 hours ago”

“Be as thorough as you can” 

“So the Red Hood gave me those instructions to follow” You began. “I was to draw the attention of the authorities to me in a city wide chase. Now, I am rather good with a bike, that I won’t hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still don’t know how they got there, but it saved me. He would have never dared to come into the melee to get me back, and risk getting caught”

“Was he not afraid you’d talk to us?” Baker asked. “That was a pretty big gamble”

“He thought I wouldn’t talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this time” You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. “Because I believed I loved him”

“I guess that wouldn’t be too far fetched” He hummed. “Wouldn’t be the first time we saw it happen”

You nodded, remaining silent. Baker made eye contact with Tanev, then looked into the reflecting glass. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to you. 

“We are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this information” He said. “But once we do that, you’ll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement states”

“Thank you” 

“Just one more thing before we wrap this debriefing” He leaned forward. “You must know his name"

“Of course” 

“Then what is it?” He asked. “What is the Red Hood’s name?”

You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke. 

-- 36 hours later --

The sunset over the valley was gorgeous. The mixes of pink and orange on the yellowed sky was straight out of a fantasy world, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery. It was soothing, like it could swallow up his anxiety at least for a minute or two. He leaned on the wooden ramp, the sightseeing roadside station seeming not so cheesy at the moment.

He only tore his eyes from the burning sun when he heard a motorcycle approach from behind. He pushed himself off the ramp and faced the sleek black bike--the lack of use on it showing him it was brand new--then, the driver with a black tinted visor. 

You took off your helmet and smiled at Jason’s stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

You walked past him and leaned on the ramp he had been on moments ago, and he joined you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. He lit up both with his lighter, and you took a long draft before speaking. 

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice” You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. “I did save your sweet ass, after all”

“I thought we agreed not to do that” He glanced at you sideways. His annoyance was also mixed with playful disbelief, like he both wanted to throw you off the cliff you were admiring the view from and do celebratory shots with you. 

“We did” You nodded, chuckling. “But circumstances changed. You weren’t out by the time I reached the monument, so I had to draw them away from you, or we would not be having this conversation. ”

“Still” He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. “Wait, did you call the secret services after yourself?”

You shrugged half heartedly. “Mayhaps” Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. “I mean, it kinda was my fault too. I misplaced the bomb and it barely detonated. I had to flip to plan B, then they shot my bike. They had me surrounded, and my it was running low on life, so I skipped directly to plan fuck this”

“So you gave yourself up”

"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedom” You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “None of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry not”

“They must have asked for a name” He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. “What did you tell them?”

“My grandpa’s name” You snorted. “He died two decades ago. Let me tell you, when they found out the last update on him was in the necrology of the 2001 Sunday paper, they were not happy campers”

“Then how did you get out?” He squinted his eyes.

“Oh, do not underestimate me, sweetheart” You grinned. “I’ve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cake”

You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies you’ve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldn’t be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun. 

“Hey wait” You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. “This wasn’t there last time”

He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didn’t see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. “What wasn’t there before?” He asked, annoyed. 

You smiled. “You” 

With a quick jab of your elbow behind his head, he fell down unconscious on the floor. You grabbed his keycard and exited the cell, locking the guard in. You winked at the camera on the upper left corner of the hallway and made your way down to the garages as the alarms blared through the whole building. That meant it entered lockdown, closing all the escape routes. But you had your own fool proof plan.

Agent Baker began swearing when the hallway was plunged into the red glow of the lockdown alert. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out you had led them in circles, and he had appeared a fool in front of his colleagues when he proudly revealed the name of a long deceased old man instead of anything tangible. He had been on his way to your cell when he realized the depth of this foolery, understanding you had been stalling them for this opportunity. 

“Sir, we are reporting engine noises in the garages”

“Fuck” Baker shouted, pushing the other man aside. Tanev was a step behind, his weapon drawn. They had stored your bike there, you must have gone back for it. “All units report to the garage, we’re having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garages”

They all flocked to the lower levels, ready to enforce the barrages at the doors and trap you with no exit. It was an excellent execution of emergency measures, but they definitely weren’t prepared for what came next. As they kicked the storage unit of your motorcycle, they came face to face with the bullet ridden bike with no driver in sight. Baker lowered his gun, squinting his eyes. Then, they widened comically as the dark smoke coming out of it and the strong smell of gasoline registered in his brain.

“Motherfucker” He spat. “Everybody out!” 

Seconds later, it exploded.

“You’re unbelievable” Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. “I gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steel”

“Of course it was!” You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. “And it’s not even the best part, look”

You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIA’s chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. “You got Preston?”

You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. “The bike opened a window big enough for me to get the target” You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. “And with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, t’was easy enough”

“After all this time, you’re still impressing me” He nodded, holding up his fist. “Good fucking job”

You bumped your fist sideway with his, laughing at his baffled expression. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, but the air was still warm. You could hear the crickets in the high grass, and the silence was a peaceful one. You could admit that you had cut it close this time, that this gamble could have very well turned to shit, so you just took a moment to let the pressure slip away from your muscles, at least for now. You had the time to smoke another cigarette before you spoke.

“So now what?” You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. “Markstrom’s ring is no more, and I’m pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence services’ most wanted list”

“Well, that’s nothing a good ol’ fake death can’t fix” He shrugged. “But until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, I’m sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?”

You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. “I say let’s get to it”

[camotherogue]

OKOKOKOK SOIm gonna do these in segments bc it'll make things easier for me. Any of them without a written explanation is purely vibes based.

First off we have Emo Time- I'll be real this playlist was made around the time of page 300 or so, so way back before click lore happened? Back when a lot of ppl (myself included) headcanoned him as a former soldier

Na Na Na - Feels pretty "I don't need you but please don't leave me alone" to me personally like. Being aggressive because you don't wanna get hurt but not wanting to be alone either. Yeah.

Welcome to the Black Parade - I think this one kinda speaks for itself, also it's marching band and his uniform looks fairly similar to a marching band also

Mama - THIS IS THE CENTER POINT TBH LIKE. ok so the prevailing idea at the time was that click was a former soldier and had left w RGB as a way to escape, figuring he'd be back eventually. Mama was written as a nod and memoir to veterans who returned home only to be scorned and hated for things out of their control, esp after the Vietnam war and I think it fit at the time. Also it's the emo trans anthem and he's transgender to me so there's that too ig

Thnks fr th Mmrs - Honestly this one felt very Film Shoot to me (click RGB pairing which I do enjoy) like. Oh bitter exes I see.

DEBT COLLECTOR - this one was actually based on how he's chasing down RGB in act three! He's trying to get revenge (collecting on the debt rgb made by leaving him for dead?) on the one who wronged him

Little Game - dead ass all projection like. This guy does have identity issues! I personally think he struggled w gender stuff in his youth but never really dug into it because it scared him but gender roles exist for some reason and he kinda realized that he Didn't Like That.

Typical Story - THIS SONG IS JUST. ANGER PERSONIFIED. but hopeless anger. Anger that rots in your chest and carves a hole into your gut. Anger at people who made your life harder and who played pretend for reputation before pushing you aside.

Killdozer - Click rage bender song enough said. Kim Dracula<3

Diet Coke - this one's a BIT personal and relates to uh. ED projection/headcanon stuff so I won't go into detail but I never said this wasn't partly a kin playlist either lmao

Actually all of these four exc for Oh No! are project-y jsjdkfkg sorry folks

Oh No! however is very much how I read him as a character. He's got this crystal clear image of what he SHOULD be and yet everything works against that image of himself. And eventually in his mind he destroys all he touches. Self fulfilling prophecy.

These!! Are very near and dear to me bc Detektivbyrån is a cherished artist of mine. I thought that the music captured the whimsy of the world of Make-Believe as well as the sort of unreal feeling the entire setting has. "Monster" specifically was chosen for the name.

Body - have you READ his dialogue he sees himself as a monster and hates the fact that he can't remember what he used to look like, his own name, his family, anything!

I've got little explanation for these four exc for Rich Kids being just. Such an angry song but this time in a nihilistic/hedonistic way. "Nothing I do matters so fuck it, I'll do what I want to now."

Bang Bang - completely energy related but also again related to the big chase in the Market. Also haha bang bang like gun

Blood - Finishing off w an MCR banger, this one is DEFINITELY his energy and I can't quite put into words why. Maybe it's the mourning what you could have been if not for others in your life, maybe it's the righteous anger at those who turned you into what you are and then decide you're not good enough for them, maybe it's just the realization that the person you put so much trust into turned on you and ended up a hypocritical fuck after all of it. God I love this song

That's about all I've got! I'm *really* glad you like my playlist- though it's due some updates at some point (or perhaps a sequel using what we know now!) and is definitely a little project-y lmao. Thank you so much for sending this in, gave me a great way to occupy my time!

Hello! Found your tpoh click playlist and really enjoyed it; I am currently obsessing over this edgelord nutcracker. Did you have a thought process behind the songs on the playlist, or was it vibes only? If so I would love to hear it!

OHHH OH I AM SO FLATTERED WAUAGHHH. haven't fixated on da click Man in a WHILE so I need to go dredge up my thoughts rq I will type it out and reblog this ask with the results!!!

[withanina]

***Trigger warning: Self loathing, gender discrimination, murder, suicide(premeditated and aftermath)*** 

[Image description- series of black and white 3-koma manga panels. The art is in gudaguda style, cute chibi type characters who only have one eye and a mouth to express emotion.

Image 1- Titled “Tale of the Fool of Owari”. Credits below say “ Translated by @AelenAltria ; Beta by @butchcorgi ; Typeset by @Azenon“

     Panel 1: A soliloquy starting as the speaker, Oda Nobukatsu, looks at the back of his sister, Oda Nobunaga, stating “My older sister is incredible.”

    Panel 2: “I am incompetent” Nobukatsu states, smiling at the simple truth, as we see him in his formal japanese clothes.

     Panel 3: “But for some reason, it was always my older sister who was viewed as a fool, not me.” Nobukatsu is seen turning back, away from Nobunaga’s cheerful walk listening to gossip saying “What’s with that outfit? You’re a woman!”, “She’s really gone mad.”, “The Odas don’t have much time left.”

Image 2-

     Panel 1: “The guys who make my sister out to be a fool always say the same thing,” Nobukatsu continues as he stares at his sister’s back again. “ “You’re a woman, why are you like this?” “

    Panel 2: “Then what does that make me,” Nobukatsu wonders, frowning. “Someone who’s incompetent even as a man?”

    Panel 3: “One time our father asked us, “What is the thing you need most to protect the country?” “, Nobukatsu recalls. He and Nobunaga are both seated respectfully in front of their father, whose face is in shadow. Nobukatsu replied emphatically, “I answered that you need an excellent commander and many soldiers to serve you.”

Image 3-

    Panel 1: “Firearms.” Oda Nobunaga’s face is mostly hidden, but the visible expression is one of total confidence. “My sister’s answer was just one word,” Nobukatsu remembers.

    Panel 2: “ I couldn’t really get how you’d protect a country using firearms, but I was sure my older sister could pull it off.” Nobukatsu’s expression is marked as confused as he has a smile, but a question mark floats beside him. “But for some reason, Father had a bitter look on his face.”

Panel 3: “It was around that time that my sister started to parade around the castle town dressed much more eccentric than before,” Nobukatsu recalls, as we see him worriedly chase after Nobunaga( dressed as Kippoushi form of Maou Nobunaga- Long ponytail, sword at their waist, alcohol gourd in their left, another sword in their right)  who is merrily advancing. “And she was ridiculed as a fool that much more”

Image 4-

    Panel 1: “It was a given she would succeed our Father when he passed away,” Nobukatsu explains, his expression now troubled as he frowns slightly. “But for some reason, our retainers came to welcome me instead of her. For some reason they kept insisting she was incompetent.”

    Panel 2: “ I don’t get what they’re saying...” Nobukatsu is now a pure black silhouette, his eyes and mouth visibly sad and upset. “Why are they saying this, why, I don’t get it, I just...”

    Panel 3:”Ah, I see now...” Nobukatsu’s silhouetted face is now a bright smile as he understands. “They’re all fools”

Image 5-

    Panel 1: “There’s no way these idiots deserve to be my sister’s vassals,” Nobukatsu states, gazing at Nobunaga’s distant back. “And of course, neither do I!”

    Panel 2: The silhouetted Nobukatsu stands among the corpses of the unfaithful vassals, most of whom are pierced by swords or arrow. Nobukatsu stands in the center, a large smile on his face. Noticeably, his ponytail has now taken Nobunaga’s trait of being seemingly on fire.

    Panel 3: “It serves you right, fools.” Nobukatsu is sitting in ceremonial white robes, a bright expression on his face. In front of him is a blade on a small tray. “Come now, Sister- All that’s left to do is kill my incompetent self!”

Image 6-

    Panel 1: A close up of Nobukatsu, hiding the top of his face. A joyful smile covers his face and his hair retains some of the previous flame trait.

    Panel 2: The background has now changed to black, and the characters are more pale outlines than before. “I leave the rest to you, Sister” Nobukatsu’s final words as Nobunaga stands in front of her disemboweled sibling, her expression isn’t shown but her hair is noticabley whiter even against the black background. “Ah... But if I could only do one more thing...” Nobukatsu says.

    Panel 3: ‘I wish I could’ve had just a little more fun with you...’ Nobunaga is seen advancing energetically again, possibly dancing the Atsumori.

Image 7- “Sister! Let’s go get some ice cream in the cafeteria!” Nobukatsu cheerfully suggests, he is now wearing his military cap and uniform with the cape. He is cheerfully running towards Nobunaga, who is in her Archer uniform. “Come on, don’t follow me around!” Nobunaga complains as she heads forward, a smile on her face.

End Description]

From Koha-Ace 2019 Winter special by Keikenchi.

I don’t think I’d believe you if you told me I’d get so attached to Nobukatsu, but here we are and I love this child so much. He needs to get adopted into my Chaldea ASAP to be with his sisters!

[todourouki]

↲ Back to my HQ Masterlist

REQUEST: hi i just saw that requests are open so can you write a fic (hcs are okay too) where lev gets a crush on karasuno's manager who he meets during the training camp? aaaa i hope it's not too much have a good day!!! tyyyy!

TITLE: The Distraction

PAIRING: Lev Haiba x Manager/Y/N

WORD COUNT: +1.0K

WARNINGS: Explicit Language (like twice tbh)

Lev was a simple man. He never knows what he’s doing, only does as he’s told as much as he could remember— hell he barely knows what’s going on half of the time (which got him into a lot of trouble, but that’s besides the point).

It was currently the annual summer training camp— all the schools huddled into the gyms practicing their asses off and preparing themselves for nationals in a way that was almost captivating.

The sound of a ball slamming against the ground filled the gymnasium, Lev’s feet finally touching the ground again as he watched the spiked volleyball slam between the two opponents across from him. Almost routinely, he turned towards his teammate Kenma with a bright smile on his face.

“Woah Kenma, did you see that?” He excitedly began, sparkles nearly flying through his eyes as he demonstrated his thoughtprocess to the careless setter. “I went fwosh, and then the ball went fwew, and then it went bam!”

Kenma rolled his eyes, blinking boredly at the silver-haired boy’s excitement and waving him off. “It was probably a fluke, Lev.”

“Yeah,” he heard Yaku scream from behind him, a leg coming into contact with the back of his shin in a way that made him lurch forward, “you still have terrible technique!”

Lev wanted to object what both Kenma and Yaku were saying, and he was probably going to— until he saw you.

Through the main doors, your frame entered through the double doors with eyes searching the perimeter as if looking for a certain someone. Lev swore his breath stopped in his throat.

He watched as you zipped the black jacket you had on off your body and toss it into the bench only to reveal your white t-shirt. Maybe he was being creepy, and maybe this probably wasn’t the best thing to do when someone sees another attractive person infront of them— yet here Lev is, drooling over what he figured to be Karasuno’s newest manager.

He watched you sit down, polite smile adorning your soft looking face with nothing but hearts in his eyes. Sure Lev has seen some pretty people in his life, he sees his mother and his sister every day. But someone with beauty of your caliber— which was enough to make him pause at your entrance— was one he had never encountered before.

You were absolutely stunning to Lev.

“Dumbass!” He heard his captain yell out, a volleyball smacking him on the back of his large built body to catch his distracted attention once more, “pay the fuck attention or you’ll be doing flying laps like Karasuno for the rest of the camp!”

Lev thought that would smack him out of his trance. The power of the volleyball colliding with his back being one to usually snap him out of his thoughts. Yet this time, all he could do was wave the captain off with a hand and continue to admire you from across the gym.

He had never seen you before— his first time meeting Karasuno being this camp to be exact. He almost didn’t notice your eyes beginning to trail the gym either.

The boy was never good with girls. He was always too tall for them, too energetic, and too unfamiliar with the opposing gender. He always talked too much when he first met them, his hands were always too big and too sweaty for their liking, and his name was too hard for them to say.

They always ended up falling for the other guys— the cooler guys. Sure, he was Japanese and Russian, abnormally tall, and a fun guy to be around, but they’d never see it. At least, Lev never got far enough with a girl to get her to see it.

Yet the moment your soft eyes met his with a smile lifting up across your perfect lips, Lev felt like he had finally seen heaven. He didn’t care if you never gave him the time of day, never blinked another eye at him, or even that you were apart of his rival’s team. All he knew, was that the smile on your face and the eyes solely on him was something he had never wanted to stop seeing.

Even through Yaku’s yelling, Kenma’s soft sighs, and Kuroo’s screeches to return back to the net because they were literally in the middle of a game, Lev couldn’t help his long legs from parading over to you. He couldn’t help but finally come face to face with your beauty, watching as your eyes widened in surprise yet the soft smile remaining even brighter than ever.

He couldn’t help but ignore everyone else’s comments either. The slick remarks from Karasuno to get away from their manager, the taunting of the orange and black uniformed boys threatening him to stay away from their gorgeous manager only found in their school, and the incessant yelling from his own team— none of that mattered to Lev.

The only thing that mattered to him was the fact that somehow, the closer he got, the prettier you looked as well as the sweeter you smelled. Finally approaching your seated frame, Lev looked down on you as your eyes trailed up to directly look at him. The same sweet smile he ran across the court during a game for remained itched into your skin.

“Hi, I’m Lev and I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.” The blush on your cheek as he finished his sentence brought pride within his veins, his hands holding themselves up against his hips as he gulped any amount of pride and fear for flirting down.

“Hello Lev,” the minute your lips opened to speak, Lev knew he was a goner already from the softness and sweetness of your every words, “I’m Y/N and I think you’re one of the prettiest people I’ve ever seen, too.”

And that’s it. That’s how Lev knew that doing flying laps up and down the court for four whole hours was worth it. The giggle, the tone, and the blush resting across your cheeks was enough for Lev to realize that with the first two words you ever spoke that you were someone he was excited to see everyday for the training camp.

Lev realized too, that he had the biggest, dorkiest, most smitten and quick crush on you then he’s ever had on anyone else and he was more than okay with it.

this sucks bc I can’t write about Lev for shit LMFAOOOOOOOO but I hope you enjoyed this request >.<

© todourouki

[metamelonisle]

major: black parade mf.

namesake: drum major (marching band position)

represents: the things i like/want in life that i actively force myself not to enjoy/pursue due to internal pressure. band is a good example of this. i actually quite enjoy it, but I hate the current director of my last band so god damn much that i refuse to give it or orchestrated music the time of day

appearance: a long wavy black-haired hispanic teenager of intermediate gender wearing a black & white marching band uniform. they hold a silver trombone

personality: band kid (derogative)

[gagosiangallery]

Meleko Mokgosi at Gagosian Britannia Street, London

September 2, 2020

MELEKO MOKGOSI Democratic Intuition September 29–December 12, 2020 6–24 Britannia Street, London __________ Democracy is incompatible not only with the foundational elements of the human subject, but also with the various systems and institutions that support dominant forms of subjectivity or humanism in general. In other words, democracy is incompatible with structural racism and institutionalized or systemic violence; democracy is incompatible with neocolonialism and neo-imperialism; democracy is incompatible with the instruments that reproduce the conditions for and possibilities of capitalism; democracy is incompatible with race discourse, Eurocentrism, ethnocentrism, and humanism—all of which have become the dominant ways in which reality is conceptualized, interacted with, and historicized. —Meleko Mokgosi Gagosian is pleased to present Meleko Mokgosi’s first solo exhibition in the United Kingdom and Europe, drawn from his grand project Democratic Intuition (2014–19). In works of sweeping scale and scope, Mokgosi combines history painting with cinematic montage, bringing together elements of religious iconography, advertising, and political propaganda from southern Africa and the United States to produce a layering of imagery both foreign and familiar. Reconceptualizing the intersection of art history, postcolonial nationhood, and democracy within an interdisciplinary critical framework, Mokgosi seeks to redress the many ways in which Black subjects have become unattributed objects of empire and institution. Democratic Intuition is an eight-part epic that includes multi-panel depictions of southern African life and folklore; its title is a nod to Gayatri Spivak’s theory that the functioning of democracy is dependent upon accessible education. Mokgosi engages this concept and its internal contradictions through compelling genre scenes—often involving prominent public figures—that jump-cut between the confines of manual work, the freedoms of intellectual enterprise, and their ties to gender and race. A parade of finely drawn characters emerges out of raw canvas backgrounds, portraying the asymmetries of power that underscore traditional divisions of labor.

One chapter in the series, Bread, Butter, and Power (2018), is a twenty-one-panel panoramic painting that addresses the peripheral position of the Black female subject, constricted by the informal economic sectors of agricultural and domestic labor. In one panel, uniformed schoolgirls painted in meticulous detail till a field of soil rendered in broad abstract strokes; in another, two elderly women sit proudly in decorated state regalia; in a third, two women in period dress embrace in an imagined domestic tableau that contains, among other visual cues, a portrait of a defiant young Harriet Tubman, dressed in the black, green, and red of the Pan-African standard; a self-portrait by Cameroonian photographer Samuel Fosso in the guise of Black radical Angela Davis; and Mokgosi’s own protest poster in ANC colors, which refers to the people’s battle cry following the infamous Uitenhage massacre in 1985: THEY WILL NEVER KILL US ALL. In another chapter titled Objects of Desire, individual small paintings of Afrocentric advertisements, Paleolithic cave paintings, and contemporary African objects are grouped together, dispensing with established representational hierarchies. Together with these images are text paintings in both English and Setswana, in which lines from museum wall labels, poems, and dinaane (oral histories) are accompanied by Mokgosi’s own critical marginalia. His annotations confront the erasure of African languages by racist policies under apartheid and reclaim these varied mother tongues. Key references for this chapter were the Museum of Modern Art’s controversial exhibitions “Primitivism” in Twentieth Century Art: Affinity of the Tribal and the Modern (1984–85) and Objects of Desire: The Modern Still Life (1997), both notorious for framing historical African artworks as anonymous sources for early European modernism. Meleko Mokgosi was born in Francistown, Botswana, and lives and works between Wellesley, Massachusetts, and New York. He is codirector of graduate studies in painting and printmaking at the Yale School of Art, New Haven, CT, and cofounder of the Interdisciplinary Art and Theory Program, New York. Collections include the Studio Museum in Harlem, New York; Colby College Museum of Art, Waterville, ME; Baltimore Museum of Art; Williams College Museum of Art, Williamstown, MA; Pérez Art Museum Miami; and Hammer Museum, Los Angeles. Solo exhibitions include Democratic Intuition, Exordium, Institute of Contemporary Art, Boston (2015); Pax Kaffraria, Memorial Art Gallery of the University of Rochester and Rochester Contemporary Art Center, NY (2017); Lex and Love, Williams College Museum of Art, Williamstown, MA (2017); Acts of Resistance, Baltimore Museum of Art (2018); Bread, Butter, and Power, Fowler Museum at UCLA, Los Angeles (2018); Selections from the Hammer Contemporary Collection: Meleko Mokgosi, Hammer Museum, Los Angeles (2019); Bread, Butter, and Power, Smart Museum of Art, University of Chicago (2019); Pan-African Pulp, University of Michigan Museum of Art, Ann Arbor (2019–21); and Your Trip to Africa, Pérez Art Museum Miami (2020–21). Mokgosi participated in the 2013 Biennale de Lyon, Meanwhile... Suddenly, and Then. Key chapters of Democratic Intuition were brought together in a major exhibition at The School in Kinderhook, New York, during 2019–20. A catalogue documenting the entire Democratic Intuition project will be copublished by Jack Shainman Gallery and Pacific Editions at the time of the London exhibition. During the exhibition, gagosian.com will host a curriculum and a series of online international seminars organized in collaboration with the artist. _____ Meleko Mokgosi, Bread, Butter, and Power, 2018 (detail), oil, acrylic, bleach, graphite, photo and pigment transfer, and permanent marker on canvas, with plastic sleeve, in 21 parts; 1 part: 108 × 72 inches (274.3 × 182.9 cm), 18 parts, each: 96 × 96 inches (243.8 × 243.8 cm), 1 part: 96 × 132 inches (243.8 × 335.3 cm), 1 part: 84 × 12 × 12 inches (213.4 × 30.5 × 30.5 cm) © Meleko Mokgosi