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chibimyumi · 4 years

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Redesign Prompt RESULTS!

Alright, thank you everyone who has voted, the results are now in! Overwhelmingly our winner is Ranmao 🐈!

First of all, I need to insert a few caveats here. Unlike with Victorian fashion, I do not have years and years of studying of Qing dynasty-fashion behind me. So whatever results I show here are the product of a fortnight of reading up and meticulous studying of contemporary photographs. a.k.a. I am merely scraping the surface here. But! I do promise that everything shown here is done to the best of my ability to be responsible as a content provider.

Now without further ado, let us dive into Ranmao’s current design, the blatantly obvious inaccuracies, and how I propose to redes...ign... her outfit while keeping the original intact as much.... as possible???? Heck, this is not even worthy of being called a ‘redesign’, this is straight up designing from scratch!

Hair

Let us start with her bangs. Her bangs are in fact surprisingly accurate, as late Qing dynasty women would wear their bangs in a variety of Bettie bangs trimmed well above the eyebrows. Having sides of the bangs growing longer framing the face was usual too, though they would be cut slightly thicker than Ranmao’s. Though, we don’t know how much hair Ranmao has, so I see no reason to alter it.

Twin braids are very much associated with the “China doll look”, but they seem to have been branded into our image of the “Chinese Girl” because it was the go-to look for unmarried women in Republic China (which is many years later than Ranmao’s time, and also has more surviving images.)

In Ranmao’s time, unmarried girls would either wear the bottom part of their hair down, or have everything tied into a single braid behind them. Girls who preferred a more feminine look would often decorate the sides or the top with flowers or other ornaments depending on their wealth.

Yana’s notes say that the flower in Ranmao’s hair is a Chinese peony, which is also called the Empress of Flowers in Chinese as well as Japanese culture. I could find sources on how the peony was the symbol of the Empress of China, and how one better avoid wearing any type of peonies around the Empress herself for fear of being suspected of disrespect. But I could not find any evidence of such flowers being banned for other people, so presumably it was more an ‘unwritten code of politeness’ rather than fashion law.

Hence, I kept the pink peony design for Ranmao, and decorated them in the way Qing women would have.

Neckline

By far the most interesting thing I learned from this redesign attempt was that the “mandarin collar” - the thing that pops up first in most people’s minds when thinking about Chinese fashion - was in fact not at all common.

In this academic work on Chinese fashion history, Finnane writes that the ‘high collar’ was “not a common feature of costume before the twentieth century.” Instead, most costumes would have had a round neckline.

Finnane, Antonia. Changing Clothes in China : Fashion, History, Nation. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. p. 93

The ‘high collar’ gained popularity in early 1900s in China after the Europeans brought with them the beauty standard for high collars, as well as slim-fitted silhouettes. The Chinese increasingly adopted this type of collar and the slim silhouette (the well known ‘china dress/qipao/cheongsam’), and the relatively many early photos that survived helped engrave this stereotype into our minds.

Sleeves

I do not think it requires any mention, but 19th century Chinese fashion did not include boleros... For many of the original designs of Ranmao I can sort of see where Yana got that image from, but this bolero-look truly beats me.

The sleeves worn in the late Qing period were relatively wide, though they were starting to slim down over time. Late Qing women enjoyed much more flexible clothing rules than earlier Qing women, and the width of the sleeves was in great part determined by personal preference, season, but mostly one’s wealth.

Needless to say, the larger the sleeves the more fabric and embroidery it would require, and thus more expensive. Also, the wider the more it would get into the wearer’s way.

I don’t know how much thought Yana put into Ranmao’s original design in relation to her function as elite bodyguard, but considering how the original has zero practicality and only serves to maximise Ranmao’s attractiveness, I have no qualms about giving Ranmao fairly large sleeves too. Besides, let us assume that Lau is responsible for providing Ranmao with clothes. Illegal money tends to fill the pockets quite deeply, I don’t think he can’t spare a few pounds for big sleeves.

Wider sleeves would expose much of ‘a lady’s precious skin’, as such a more fitted layer would have been worn underneath. (The sleeves under the wider sleeves obviously did not have to be orange-ish. This was merely coincidence that both my redesign and the visual source have this colour.)

Silhouette

The figure hugging silhouette x Chinese clothes was - as mentioned above - not at all a thing in Ranmao’s time. In fact, the accentuation of the “female curves” was considered very inappropriate if not downright ugly in the Qing dynasty.

Finnane, Antonia. Changing Clothes in China : Fashion, History, Nation. New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. p. 94

Yana’s notes mention that the thing Ranmao wears is just an European corset and that that is the only thing ‘English’ about her attire.

Well... I don’t know where the idea that Victorians wore corsets on the outside comes from, but I myself admittedly was fooled by this a few years ago too... I promise you all now however, Victorians decidedly did not wear their ‘bras’ on the outside. I think even now this look is considered rather ‘questionable’ by most people.

Instead, Qing dynasty clothes were mostly cut wide and straight, loosely dangling around their bodies offering maximum comfort and space. You feared Ranmao killing you in her corset? Now tremble before her now blessed with maximised agility.

Trousers

Well... I considered ‘translating’ Ranmao’s attire to 2020 standard like I did for O!Ciel, but that would not be Tumblr-filter approved. Skirts so short they could be mistaken for a belt are nothing too surprising today, but wearing one with a split that deep is probably a bit too revealing even by today’s standards.

By the late Qing dynasty, men and women, rich and poor alike predominantly wore trousers. Long robes (skirts) were definitely in fashion too, but they were reserved for those who could afford to not have much agility. If you were a farmer, robes would not have been your first option. Perhaps the way long skirts were viewed by the Qing Chinese was not unlike the way we see them now; ‘more classy’ ‘more feminine’ and ‘less convenient’, but not the only way to express femininity.

In these pictures below we can see relatively rich women, married and unmarried alike, all wearing trousers.

Ranmao is predominantly a fighter, and as trousers are plenty feminine in Chinese fashion culture, I don’t see why she would not choose to wear trousers instead of a restricting long skirt. Hence I gave her a pair of trousers.

Shoes

Like I said before, “the shoes are correct...” But the anklets definitely are not!

Golden or silver anklets are something that are worn by very, VERY young children in China. Even to this day it is customary among many Chinese people to gift newborn children at least one piece of pendant, bracelet or anklet, for it is believed to bring the child luck. More practically, this piece of jewellery will become the child’s first piece of property then, which can be sold later SHOULD they ever run into a financially difficult situation.

These anklets or bracelets would not be removed from the child unless they have outgrown them, which happens fairly quick. Ranmao who is probably full grown should have outgrown them at least ten years ago. Hence, seeing these things on Ranmao would probably make it look like she is still wearing diapers or bibs.

Chinese people would likewise not have worn shoes barefoot. Instead, they would have worn cotton socks which were mostly white.

DOUBLE HAMMERS

HERE COME THE WEAPONS! Luckily Yana wrote the following note or I would never have guessed what they are for my knowledge about Chinese weapons is next to nothing.

“These are【SUPER】heavy. They are weapons called 双�� (double hammers) and they in fact exist. I heard these were used by power-type warriors.”

So, I googled 双錘 and it turns out that the type Ranmao is holding do indeed exist! But... only in fiction and theatre.

The hammers that were used in actual combat were either very thin and long, or short and plump. Such hammers were one of the most primitive metal weapons in China, and quickly fell out of favour among Chinese warriors when more practical weapons such as the metal spear, sword and bows were invented. The hammers mostly retained their value because of their weight in heroic tales and myths about legendary warriors and deities.

I don’t have the full details, but apparently according to some legends or myths, one of such big-ass hammers could deal a force of 200kg, and thus 400kg combined. Regardless of this being realistic or not, it sure does sound very cool! It is therefore no wonder this primitive weapon retains its popularity even today.

Nowadays when these hammers are used, they are either the blown up theatrical versions, or the smaller versions for the sake of preserving martial arts.

I had a bit of a dilemma as to which version to give Ranmao, but in the end I settled with the short and heavy ones because I wanted to keep the idea of this small and innocent looking girl wielding solid metal balls. Two cheer-leading sticks would simply not have the same weight, figuratively and literally.

Alright everyone! Did you enjoy my response to your votes? I hope you did ^^ Non-European fashion history really is not my strong suit, so my deepest apologies if I messed anything up.

Pray tell if I did, I am always happy to learn ^^

#Ran mao #ranmao #ran-mao #redesign #redesign prompt #art #my art #fan art #fanart #fan-art #Chinese clothes #UGGHGHHGHG non-European fashion REALLY is not my strong suit #BUT I learned a lot and I had fun!

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jewfrogs · 3 years

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What was the place of trans people in Ancient Greece? I don’t mean myths, but accounts of irl trans people. I once read something about priests of Aphrodite whose initiation ceremony was castration and wearing women’s clothing, which could be reinterpreted through a modern lens as Ancient Greece’s version of trans women, so to speak. Perhaps even non-binarism, though I don’t believe there was basis for escaping the gender binary and the very much enforced roles in the Greek patriarchy.

this is another great question! i’m going to broaden our scope a little bit to include some discussion of rome as well, because there’s a lot of useful stuff there and the two are interlinked.

discussing trans people in any historical context is difficult, because the framework through which we understand it doesn’t exist. that isn’t to say that people who didn’t conform to their assigned gender didn’t exist (gender variance has been documented for about as long as history), but that applying modern labels and understandings to them doesn’t always work, and there’s a lot of overlap between some categories (e.g. could we understand this individual as a trans woman or as an effeminate [gay] man? what does that mean when neither of those identities are contextual during the individual’s time?). all that to say: there isn’t a lot that directly corresponds to trans people from antiquity, but there’s certainly not nothing.

one reference to trans people in ancient greece comes from lucian’s dialogue of the courtesans (c. 120-190 CE), where the character megilla/us seems to be remarkably like a trans man: “I was born a woman like the rest of you, but I have the mind and the desires and everything else of a man.” this is an excellent post that discusses this passage in depth.

according to pliny the elder, there was a noted phenomenon of women turning into men: “The change of females into males is undoubtedly no fable. We find it stated in the Annals, that, in the consulship of P. Licinius Crassus and C. Cassius Longinus, a girl, who was living at Casinum with her parents, was changed into a boy; and that, by the command of the Aruspices, he was con- veyed away to a desert island. Licinius Mucianus informs us, that he once saw at Argos a person whose name was then Arescon, though he had been formerly called Arescusa: that this person had been married to a man, but that, shortly after, a beard and marks of virility made their appearance, upon which he took to himself a wife. He had also seen a boy at Smyrna, to whom the very same thing had happened. I myself saw in Africa one L. Cossicius, a citizen of Thysdris, who had been changed into a man the very day on which he was married to a husband.” (Plin. Nat. 7.4) it seems likely that this is discussing intersex people, since pliny references them immediately before, but it is interesting to see evidence for at least some form of transition and for the acceptance of said transition—arescon has a wife! that’s pretty neat! these people seem to be fairly well-accepted, which does make one think about how transition in general might have worked or been seen.

with regards to the priests, i haven’t read about anything like that with aphrodite (although i would be remiss not to mention aphroditos here, particularly her mention in macrobius’ saturnalia), but i’m guessing you’re thinking of the galli, priests of cybele (a phrygian goddess, often correlated with rhea and with the intersex deity agdistis) as well as her lover attis (who was castrated as well—catullus 63, which i am going to write something about one day, is a retelling of their myth). they were castrated and generally wore women’s clothing, and many sources refer to them with feminine language. firmicus maternus (c. 4th century AD) said of them negant se viros esse, et non sunt <mulieres>: mulieres se volunt credi (“they deny that they are men, and are not <women>: they want to be believed as women”). there are certainly parallels that can be drawn here!

in addition, there can be a lot of blurred overlap between gay readings and trans readings. in ancient greek & roman thought, the categories of men-who-are-penetrated and women-who-penetrate (or, well... hump, since one of the latin words for these women is tribades, or “rubbers”) are almost genders in their own right, or perhaps the intersection of two genders: men-who-are-penetrated are like women but not, and women-who-penetrate are like men but not. (it can definitely be interpreted, to some extent, that these people want to be read as the opposite binary gender to the one they were assigned—which raises the question of whether we simply don’t know some of these stories because people did pass and therefore it wasn’t outwardly transgressive.)

this is probably best encapsulated by an excerpt from the fables of phaedrus (a first-century CE roman author who is supposedly adapting aesop’s work), where the question tribadas et molles mares quae ratio procreasset (what reason brought [lesbians] and [effeminate men] into existence?) is asked, and this is the answer:

The same Prometheus, creator of the clay crowd (which is broken the moment it offends fortune), had made those parts of nature which decency hides with clothing apart from the rest for the whole day. Just before he could fix the parts to the right bodies, he was suddenly invited to dinner by Liber; when he had watered his veins well with nectar, he returned home late at night on faltering feet. Then, with a half-awake mind and a drunken mistake, he applied maidenhood to a type of man and affixed masculine members to the women; thus desire now enjoys perverse joy.

there are different ways this can be read, because “applicuit virginale generi masculo” and “masculina membra applicuit feminis” can both be taken as an aetiology for either tribades or molles mares. take one: the first line refers to molles mares, making them men in body with women’s spirits, and the second line refers to tribades, making them women in body with men’s spirits. take two: the first line refers to tribades, making them men in spirit with women’s bodies, and the second line refers to molles mares, making them women in spirit with men’s bodies. these are both really interesting readings that both resonate to some extent with transness and specifically with the space in between gayness and transness.

as an example, take the figure agathon (a fictionalized portrayal of a real playwright) from aristophanes’ thesmophorizusae. agathon is notably effeminate—he’s first introduced by a character saying εγώ γαρ ουχ όρω άνδρ’ ουδέν ενθάδ’ όντα, Κυρήνην δ’ όρω (“I see no man, but I see Cyrene”, in reference to, as one commentary puts it, “a dissolute woman of the day”). that is to say: agathon is read as a woman. when another character in the thesmo needs to dress up as a woman, he doesn’t borrow a woman’s clothes—he borrows agathon’s. could we read agathon as a trans figure? perhaps! but his effeminacy is tied to him being, as the greek puts it, ευρύπρωκτος—literally “wide-assed”, but often translated simply as a certain six-letter word that starts with f. agathon isn’t a woman, exactly, but he’s not quite a man either. i wouldn’t necessarily call this in-between space trans, but i don’t know if i could call it cis either.

tl;dr: there are few depictions of people we might call trans as we understand it today from ancient greece, but there are a lot of interesting questions we can ask and consider with regards to gender that touch on transness and antique experiences analogous to modern-day trans ones. also gayness and transness are very much intertwined.

#i didnt include any myths bc this is long enough already and u said not in myth BUT.#mythological depictions do also add another layer to this #bc there are stories like iphis or leucippus or tiresias or hermaphroditus that Smack of transness to varying degrees #ancient greece #classics #anonymous #ask

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amwritingmeta · 4 years

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S15: Dean and Cas

Pardon my lateness. Life is mental at the moment! I haven’t watched 15x17 yet but hope to do so today or tomorrow. Gods preserve me, for then there will be only three more episodes left. *is this real life??*

Okay, leaving that, let’s talk about Dean and Cas, shall we? Yes, we shall!

Dean and Cas’ relationship, or rather, how they relate themselves to each other, has been in focus this season, because it’s been pivotal to both of their arcs in canonically straightforward ways. Ways so straightforward that we haven’t really seen the likes of them since S11, and with the very heavy-duty callbacks to S11 these last two episodes, it all seems quite fitting.

I mean, Jack is a bomb like Dean was a bomb and Dean got to ask Amara why she would bring Mary back, and she got to clarify she meant it as a gift, a thank you at the end of S11, because Dean didn’t blow himself to kingdom come and her along with him, because instead he realised how he could broker peace and allow for light and dark to find balance.

Which is what Dean needs to find right now.

He needs to balance out the light and dark, the masculine and the feminine, the conscious and unconscious, the ego and the shadow. He needs to balance himself out in order to let go of his fury. Why does he need that? Why would the narrative continuously hit on him needing to let go of his anger? Because that’s the reason why he was put on this journey to begin with, this slow and steady coming-of-age-coming-into-his-own progression of finding forgiveness and feeling worthy and having faith that he deserves good things.

How do we know this?

Well, arguably this season through what happens to Dean whenever he gives his fury free range, whenever he allows it to hollow out his faith, his trust, making him one-track minded, suspicious and controlling: he loses something.

He loses Cas.

This season has been all about highlighting what happens when Dean is unable to be even the slightest bit self-aware, when he veers off the path of self-acceptance. This season, Dean has had Cas disappear out of his life twice: first when Cas walked out of the bunker and second in Purgatory, when Cas went with the Leviathan. (to get them away from Dean)

The first time Dean almost lost Cas was really all about highlighting Cas’ independence (thank fuck for that), letting us see how far they’ve come in their relationship, because Dean didn’t dig himself a grave this time, perhaps having faith, in spite of it all, that Cas would come back to him, and Cas went off on his own, feeling like there was nothing left for him at the bunker when there was no forgiveness to be had from Dean.

Except, Cas thought better of it. He realised it wasn’t just on Dean to push for change—it was on him as well. And, knowing Dean, Cas had the epiphany that he would have to lead the way.

Dean, of course, not being able to forgive and forget all that easily, needed a final push, which is why the second time he almost lost Cas was all about Dean. He had to confront his anger. He had to, because naming it and admitting it as the root cause of so many of his actions (and reactions) is a cornerstone for him to begin letting that anger go.

Almost losing Cas brought him to a moment of clarity, brought him to take a knee and admit to being wrong and offering the forgiveness he’d been holding back, because being angry is easier, especially when, it could be argued, you were beginning to feel that trust in good things lasting.

Yeah, speaking of good things lasting, it brings us to this question: Why is Dean so angry?

He doesn’t know why (or so he claims) and he probably does need to have his eyes opened for him, the way Amara tried to open them, the way his conversation with her was a highlighter for the point he’s being pushed to finally reach in his progression: forgiving the past, embracing the present, trusting in the future and in the fact that he deserves to live a long and happy rest of his life.

The fact that she’s completely dressed in pink - hello positive femininity representative who kicks ass and who once almost killed God and then was balanced out so that she instead healed him with her light and they twisted into dark and light smoke and went off together - is just delicious icing on the cake.

Yeah, and that’s the issue, Dean, alright, buddy?

Dean is angry because his mother died and her death meant that he lost his father too, it meant that he didn’t get to have a childhood, it meant that he stopped believing that he could have good things that would last, because of a confused sense of identity and a crippled sense of self-worth—why did bad things happen to him if he didn’t deserve it somehow?— and pushed him to mold himself into what would make him feel strong and brave: the image that his father projected.

The soldier.

The weapon and the shield.

And now it seems Protect Sammy has morphed into Sacrifice Jack, all because Dean’s fury at Chuck’s manipulation isn’t containable, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let Chuck live. Even if it means Jack dies in the process. As Dean said to Sam in 15x16: at least it’s not them this time.

All the while we just sit here and witness Dean morphing into the revenge thirsty spitting image of his father one last time, for one final, big ole push towards the line he’ll have to cross if he’s to finally understand once and for all where it’s actually drawn.

At Cas’ feet.

Remember back in S12, before Cas died, there was that subtle (erm) motif of pointy things going through people’s hearts from behind? Yeah. It happened twice, if I remember correctly, before the pointy end of an angel blade went through Cas’ heart and he died an angel death in the season finale.

Yeah. That.

So.

So now, in S15, we have Cas caught in a motif again, only this time Dean is right there with him, because it involves both of them.

We’ve had anger and loss, and then honesty and forgiveness.

We’re back to anger, we’re back to Dean seeing red, blinded by it, and the only thing—we’ve been shown—that can unblind him is…?

That’s right: losing Cas.

So he will lose Cas again. We’ve been on the precepice of this as fact for a good long while now, haven’t we, my merry macarons? We have indeed! The question becomes how will Dean lose Cas again? Is Cas actually going to die? Again??

I still sincerely doubt it.

I think Cas will find another way, and that other way will equal a sacrifice on his part. His life? I mean, it could be, but what about the Empty? What about allowing himself to be happy? It could add up somehow, I guess I just can’t see it. So I think the sacrifice will somehow involve Heaven, because we know Michael will be back, and I hope it will involve Hell and all of the forces God has brought into being working against him—together.

S p e c.

Now, I’m a sadist. No, not like that -> I’m a sadist when it comes to characters. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a sadist. (Misha Collins is one, as we all know) (I joke!) (down Bessie!) What I’m getting at is that I want Cas having no other recourse but to do whatever it is he’ll have to do to save Jack to, quite literally, break Dean.

We know they’re all teary eyed in 15x18 (feels like it’s Billie whom Dean is glaring at) and we’ve seen Dean crying against a wall and omfg I want it to be explicit and over Cas. Yeah?

We ain’t getting them driving off in the Impala together (which is fine btw because the final episode should focus on the brothers more than anything else) (I mean, a hint that they will be driving around in that Impala post season finale while Sam goes to be with Eileen would be fab, but we can only hope and wish, yeah?) (horses held), so let’s get Dean broken over thinking he’ll never see Cas again.

Let it be done with a big fat black marker in enormous circles around his emotional state. Let him TELL Cas to stay this time, like he should’ve done when Cas walked out the door in 15x03, only for Cas to be unable to comply, because this is all to teach Dean a lesson that this is where his anger gets him, and what he needs to do to save Cas is let that anger go, stop thinking Jack is expendable, and find a better way.

I mean, this is speculation, guys. This is hoping and wishing all over this narrative. But glory effing be if it’s anywhere in the ballpark.

It would be mind-blowing if there was a God intervention of some sort, a talking down off the ledge, as it were, as per end of S11, but I’m not going to hold my breath for *rainbows*…

I’ll hold it for balance, though. :)

Cas has waited for Dean for a long time. Dean being dismissive of Cas in 15x15 can, once again— because whenever he acts like a dick it comes back to bite him on the ass (there’s a visual for you)— be looked at as part of the tapestry that makes Cas feel there’s nothing more for him but being a father to Jack.

Dean did nothing but instill this feeling in Cas after Cas came back from the black hole that is the Empty in S13, Dean being all “You were brought back because we needed you”—Dean saying zero things about how he was basically ripping apart at the seams from the grief of losing Cas just hours before Cas made that phone call.

And of course not. Why would Dean admit that? Even to himself, once Cas was back.

He wouldn’t!

Ignoring how he really feels about stuff and taking Cas for granted is kinda what he does, so back to normal it all went. So normal and so leveled out that something had to happen, right? Because, in Dean’s mind, good things don’t last.

And then Mary happened.

Oh, my heart!

And Dean went off and cried, by himself, because he still couldn’t show emotion that openly, even to the people closest to him. But he went down on his knees and he cried in Cas’ ear during that prayer, and that really was something.

That said, Mary’s death was Dean proven right once again, and this person, who is the source of faith and hope and that budding belief that maybe, this time, everything was going to actually get better and stay that way, became the target of Dean’s anger over the injustice of it all. Because Cas was the root of it. He’s always been the root of Dean’s slow-to-grow hope that could bloom into belief and trust, if he just dared let it, that he deserves to be happy.

I wrote in an ask reply that I doubt we’ll get human!Cas, but then I remembered that Cas is still status quo-ing it. It’s why he almost left the bunker without telling anyone again, that choice of skedaddling without checking in getting interrupted by Dean, and Cas being brought into a situation where he had to divulge the information, not only that he was leaving and might not make it back (Dean’s face though!), but that Jack is going through a trial that will ultimately destroy him, which was a nice shift in this dynamic of theirs.

Now, look it, the writers may end Cas’ journey on him status quo-ing it... but for the Empty.

And I would shrug at the Empty and think, well, maybe that won’t come into play... but for the fact that the deal was brought up just a few episodes back.

So. Happiness.

Somehow something will need to push Cas toward a moment of happiness. And letting himself be happy is such a climactic moment for his entire journey—and look at how it perfectly mirrors what Dean is being pushed toward—that I find it difficult to see how that moment would bring an eternity in the Empty.

But I’ve written a lot of words on why I just can’t make sense of why they would choose to kill him or have his moment of happiness be tied to a narrative punishment so I’m not getting into all that again, but because both Dean and Cas are being pushed toward happiness, I’m curious to see which route the writers have chosen to take with it.

It would be thrilling and satisfying in equal measure if we finally get Dean crying over Cas, and only Cas. No filter of Bobby or Mary to take away focus and allow for an argument that he’s not actually grieving Cas.

It would be thrilling and satisfying for it to be very baseline Just Cas. As it has been just Cas this entire season. Cas at the center of Dean’s anger. Cas at the center of Dean’s push toward healing. Cas having had enough, drawing a line—the one that is still there, at his feet—and doing what he’s always done best: calling Dean out on his bullshit behaviour. Cas making Dean put words to his anger, express forgiveness and say that he’s sorry and all within the same moment to boot.

What all this will amount to, we’ll have to wait and see.

In a few weeks. Or next week. Or maybe there will be strong indicators where the pendulum is actually swinging in 15x17!

Holy. Hell.

But I can’t see it ending somewhere tragic. If it does, it does. And it will be what it will be. And I’ll mourn a little, and accept it and move on. But I do believe it will end somewhere hopeful. Somewhere that leaves things quite tied up, but also open to interpretation, so that we can pick and choose who ends up where and how these men decide to continue on their journeys, now that this enormous leg of their progression is done, and they’ve learned to put the past to rest.

And if S11 is anything to go by, then the echoes of that ending would be a powerful way to tie everything up, as S11 was meant to be the end of the road, until Andrew Dabb picked up the reins with an idea of how to continue the show for a few more seasons. Or so I’ve heard.

11x23 also gave us the most gloriously frustrating exchange ever written for two characters in a car. Omg. Dean we-ing the absolute hell out of his speech when it was him, he was the one, the entire time Cas was possessed by Lucifer, who insisted they make sure Cas came back unscathed. “You’re the best friend we ever had” my ass, Dean!

I wanted to talk about Dean and Sam as well, but there’s too little time at the moment for me to write more. And it’s painful, but I have to concede or hit a wall and hitting walls fucken hurts.

I will mention that Sam telling Dean off at the end of 15x16 still gives me goosebumps just thinking about it.

Finally, Sam. Finally.

As ever, sprinklings of salt all over this meta and speculation, my dearlings, but omfg it’s beautiful.

Right then. I’m off to watch 15x17! Wish me luck! *gah!*

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blues-fandom-bullshit · 4 years

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‘’My Human,, | Noir X Reader

Firstly, Noir belongs to @bigoltrashpile and they have given me permission to write about him for this. This may be triggering for the readers, so be aware. Under the cut is where it starts to get darker. WARNING: FTM reader, dysphoria, depression, self harm, blood.

Noir knew about your gender, and preferred pronouns, and about the mental scars that burned deep into your mind when you were younger. What he didn’t know was they went from burning deep to carving.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing for him to see your expression drooping when he looked away, or the sort of forced smile you always seemed to wear. But, for as long as he’s known you, this has been how you were, so he just.. thought it was natural.

Oh, was he wrong.

For months you’ve both wanted to reach out to your skeletal boyfriend, to tell him something was wrong, and that you needed him. But, the other half wanted to break off the relationship before he wasted anymore of his time.

But, it seemed he was inseparable from you. When you became distant, he appeared at your residence with a warm drink, cookies, and a look of ‘Where The Fuck Is My Favorite Human?!’ A rather comical look. A mafia don appearing at your tiny home, a container of those store bought cookies with the bright, creamy icing and multiple colored sprinkles and a thermos of crimson, scowling as he juggled both objects while knocking on your door. phone pressed between his skull and shoulder, your number dialed.

Those usually ended up with him spending the night, and you saying it was just some more nightmares and even stress from work. He scoffed some, saying you didn’t need to work with him around. He.. really couldn’t read a room.

A part of you that was happy he continued to stay was the same part that whispered to you compliments when you looked in the mirror. The same one that told you to eat that day, something nutritious. One that lulled you to sleep after your eyes burned, your lungs ached, and your mind throbbed from a light night of crying from a panic attack.

A voice that was buried under all the hateful, negative, lying ones that told you the world would be better off, or you’d always be seen as a girl, never a boy, that told you Noir deserved better.

But.. That voice was Noir’s.

And it hurt.

Everything hurt.

So.. you thought about giving up.. But no.. you had to suffer another day. That was your punishment for doing such terrible things to people.

But.. What if you just.. gave in..? Surely, death would have a better punishment than life.

Surely..

So here you lay now, leaning against a wall in the bathroom, in the far back of your house, blood pooling around you, all leaking from your chest.

You just.. cut too deep this time. Cut too much.

People destroy things they don’t like. Things they hate. So you did that to your chest.

You never had the money to buy a proper binder, and the bandage wrap you used had gotten too tattered, and you’d gone out just an hour ago to buy some more.

Only problem is, your boss had threatened to extend your hours and cut your pay because your work had been a few hours late and wasn’t it’s previous quality. Added to having to look at your too feminine face in the mirror. See your chest every time you laid down, got dressed, woke up, looked down. Not only that, but your menstruation was starting soon and it only made things worse. And the misgendering you faced. You were still stuck in a conservative town that usually knows how to keep their mouths shut, but always let their lips lose.

Dysphoria and estrogen based hormones' never mixed well.

You just wanted it to stop. All of it. The pain, the thoughts, your body. It felt like everything was against you, so you wanted to try and fight back.

Hurt the one that was hurting you.

Only problem was you let the knife slip and slide too much.

You were getting cold.. It was getting so cold.

Was that..? Fall Out Boy? Yeah.. It was your phone.

Just up there on the sink, across the dark room.

Ah, everything was getting darker. You.. couldn’t move your legs. It took so much energy to raise a finger to attempt to raise your body.

You couldn’t. It was too much. You tried to lift your head from watching the buzzing phone, but it did the opposite.

Oh, the floor was so red. Was.. this your blood?

You really made a mess. You couldn’t even see the bare flooring.

“P...Paps..?” You called out, voice sounding so faint as the attempt at words made your head dizzy.

Your chest was really starting to hurt now.

“P...pa...py...”

Keeping your eyes open took so much work now.. You were so tired. You would just.. close them for a moment.

That moment turned into minutes, that ringtone song Phoenix playing over, before your phone fell to the ground and shattered meters away. Not that you saw.

Vaguely, you heard some pounding. Was that.. your front door?

A loud bang followed this, but you more felt than heard it.

You wondered who it was.

Wait.. They’d see the mess you made. Oh no, no, no! They didn’t need to see this. Your eyes opened a sliver, seeing that the red liquid had spread even further now.

An attempt at a word that came out in a small whine-type breath was the closest you got to actual English.

You lived alone. Had for years, so there was no reason to lock your doors. But, that may have been your endings downfall.

As your vision blurred, you barely caught sight of a tall, lanky being barreling into the room. Was that.. Noir? “Nn...N..” It was too hard. But, your question was answered.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you up and close to a soft, but hard, chest. Red seemed to appear above you, before a dampness fell onto your face. Was.. he crying? Noir never cried. Never.

His voice was so muddled in your ears, but you caught a few words. “Name,” “stay,” “why,” “no.”

You finally managed a clear view. He was crying. Large tears spilling over his sockets. Your gaze then trailed down and you couldn’t help but feel shame. You bloodied his nice blazer and shirt. Great going, Name!

Probably stained his shoes too. How would you pay him that much money? His tops and footwear cost two paycheck combined, at least.

But, strength left you as your body felt lighter, feeling movement as he seemed to walk, then something covering you. A towel, maybe.

“P-Pa...p...y..” That’s all you muttered as you lost vision, sound, and feeling.

When you awoke, you felt confusion, then recollection, and then shame. Yo failed again! It’s like you can’t do shit right! But, before you could continue your mental abuse, a sob left someone nearby.

Turning your head, catching sight of none other than the one who walked in on the scene. Noir. His sockets were rimmed redder than normal, his eyelights seemed irritated but from tears rather than the emotion, and., most surprising of all, his shirt collar was messed up.

His gaze was on you, before you felt arms wrap around your body, a hiss leaving your mouth from the contact. He immediately pulled away, looking down to see both your chest.. flatter, and wrapped up.

“I Was Planning On Saving For Your Birthday..” Noir started, leaning closer to you, as if he never wanted anything to push him away. “But.. I Guess Now Is Best.”

You were confused, before he explained he had top surgery done on you alongside the stitching that needed done to ensure you didn’t bleed out. Your.. birthday was around the corner. You just had to go and ruin the surprise, di-

Before your mind could finish it’s track, a mouth pressed itself to your lips, stopping you. “Stop That.” He ordered sternly, a hidden gentleness behind his tone. “You Get This Dreadful Look When You’re Thinking Bad.”

Finally, after watching him for a few seconds, tears welled up in your eyes before pouring out. Noir immediately had his arms wrapped around you again, although much lighter in pressure. He never left you alone after that, nor had you gone a week without calling a therapist.

#undertale #mafiafell #papyrus #Noir #triggering #trans #dysphoria #tw: self half #tw: dysphoria #tw: body horror

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shianhygge-imagines · 4 years

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Sundown 勿忘草 [Reno/Reader]{Final Fantasy VII}

AN: I’ve been wanting to write a Reno one shot, but never really managed to get my lazy ass into gear. This is a long one (though at this point, I’m just known for really long story posts... let me know if you think it’s a good thing or a bad thing). I was debating splitting it into parts, but you all know how bad I am with posting updates to any of my fics written in parts. Also, can anyone tell me why I keep seeing “#reno sinclair” in the Reno tags? Since when was Reno’s surname Sinclair? None of the Turks have last names that I recall.

Was hoping to get it to 10,000 words, but I’m around 2,200 short :P

Title is “Sundown Wasurenagusa” meaning “Sundown Forget-me-Nots; ”Forget-me-nots meaning “True Love” in hanakotoba (Japanese language of flowers)

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link|

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A heavy and tired sigh escaped your lips as you continued to read through the various reports scattered upon the table before you, scribbling down information into your work notebook that would act as relevant evidence to support your proposal for several structural upgrades to the plates. Though it was a concern that your boss, Reeve Tuesti, had brought up during various board meetings, it seemed that the executives of Shinra Electric Power Company would do nothing without a formal report containing sufficient evidence to support immediate action.

Already over worked from his other projects, Reeve had personally asked you to oversee the project proposal. As a resident of the Sector 5 Slums, you felt that it was your duty to do everything you could to make life for your fellow under city residents better. So, despite the fact that you would be working on the project alone, you accepted Reeve’s task.

Now, sitting at a corner table on the Relaxation Floor, you were almost regretting taking on the task alone. Outside the large windows overlooking Midgar, the sun had long since set, the city lights and mako lighting up the dark space below in a sea of various colors. Most Shinra employees had left the building hours ago, yet here you were, still working, dinner purchased from the cafeteria sitting off to the side and half gone.

After reading another set of reports, you paused in your scribbling to slam your head non too gently on the cafeteria table, “You’d think with all the complaints we’ve had about falling metal pieces from the plate almost killing slum residents, that the company would immediately do something.” No one responded to your muttering. Not that you expected an empty space to provide commentary to your misery and exasperation. So, you stayed in that position, debating whether to call it a night so that you could catch the last train home.

“Well, color me surprised, I didn’t think any of you pencil pushers liked staying after hours.” Just when you were about to relax, a sly and cocky voice decided to interrupt your solitude.

Jolting up with a twitch of your eye, you glared at the redhead who approached your corner table, suit and dress shirt unbuttoned and showing off an ample amount of chest. Had you not lived in the Sector 5 Slums for your entire life, you probably wouldn’t have recognized the man as a Turk. Besides, the people at Shinra liked to gossip. Red hair pulled into a weird ferret tail looking ponytail, goggles resting on the crown of his head, red marks under his eyes, and a severe need of a slap to the face… yeah, there was no doubt in your mind that the man steadily approaching your table was Reno of the Turks… and the Turk second in command.

Rolling your eyes, you sat up and began to straighten out the papers on the table, putting them into a pile to slip neatly into your briefcase. “Just my luck. The entire cafeteria is empty, Turk. Why are you bothering me?”

A little hostile, but you couldn’t help it. Having grown up watching these strange men in suits harass Aerith… you didn’t exactly have a kind opinion of them. Plus… they were unwaveringly loyal dogs to Shinra, something that didn’t sit well with you.

Reno feigned a hurt expression, placing a hand upon his chest, “Why the hostility? It was an honest question.” The redheaded Turk smirked and lifted his hand to raise his pinky, “Pinky swear.”

Reigning in your frustration, you huffed and propped your head upon a raised hand, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm down. “Yeah… yeah… Sorry.” After inhaling and exhaling for a few seconds, and listening as a chair was dragged out from the other side of the table, you opened your eyes to stare tiredly at the now seated Turk. “Uh… what are you doing?”

“Keeping you company, of course.” The cocky smirk widened as Reno leaned back and propped his feet upon the table, narrowly missing your half finished dinner.

Reaching a hand out to grab the remains of your dinner, you quietly started to finish said meal off, “Uh…huh… sure. I buy that.” You remarked sarcastically, eyes not leaving Reno’s form. “So Reno of the Turks decides to just randomly pop on by to keep a Shinra office worker company as they work overtime… sure…”

The grin didn’t falter as his blue eyes wandered to observe you, “It would seem so.”

“Right.” You muttered, finishing the last of your meal before standing up with your bag and tray, “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve got a train to catch.” You weren’t sorry, but you still called out to him as you walked away, “See ya, I guess.” Hopefully not.

“You can bet on it!” Reno called back to you, watching as you threw away your trash and left the Relaxation Floor. As the doors slid close, you caved and turned around to look back at Reno, meeting his gaze just as the doors closed. Why did you feel like that was more than a promise?

…

…because it was.

The two days after were supposed to have been your days off. Yeah, perhaps you still had to structure your formal proposal a little more, but at least you were surrounded by fellow under city residents instead of Shinra employees… yeah, no, that was perhaps a little harsh of you. Not all Shinra employees were like the Turks and executives. But you were still bitter at how content the employees were with this company. It’s sickening.

When you left your home across from Leaf House on your second day off, you had fully intended to spend the day stocking up on groceries and helping either Aerith or Miss Folia. What you didn’t expect was to run into a duo of Turks when you stepped over the bridge to Aerith’s house. The duo had stopped to stand just outside of Aerith’s house, clearly speaking to one another and absolutely intending to enter the residence. The moment you’d cleared the bridge and walked into sight, you paused with wide eyes and gingerly took a step back, hoping to walk away without drawing any of their attention towards you.

You didn’t want to be seen outside work. Much less while you were wearing the sundress that Aerith had insisted you get for yourself. It was girly and feminine, and not at all professional. But still, Aerith had asked you to bring her flower baskets back home while she helped look for the Leaf House kids, who had all gone on patrol again.

Unfortunately, the bridge creaked under your foot, and two pairs of eyes were suddenly turned to stare you. “Uh…” you faltered for a moment before raising a hand in greeting, “Hi?” The end of the word pitched up into a squeak and you suddenly wanted to dive off the bridge and escape.

Recognition appeared in a familiar redhead’s eyes, “Pencil pusher! Didn’t think I’d see you here of all places!” The bald man with the shades coughed and glanced towards his coworker with raised brows.

Growling indignantly, you stomped a foot and approached the two Turks, “Don’t call me that!”

“And why not? You never gave me your name.” Reno pouted dramatically, “How’s it fair that you have mine, but I don’t know yours?”

Your expression doesn’t budge the slightest, “It’s Y/N. I work in the Urban Development Department. And I know yours because there’s only one redheaded Turk that draws in so much gossip.”

That infuriating smirk was back on Reno’s face as he pat the taller man’s shoulder roughly, “Ya hear that, Rude? The people know me.” Rude looked like he wanted to say something, if the slightest twitch of the brow and parting of the lips was any indicator. Unfortunately, the stoic looking Turk didn’t get a chance to respond before his partner opened his mouth again. “So… Y/N, huh? Cute name, cute face… it’s a wonder that I haven’t seen you in HQ before yesterday.” The statement seemed innocent enough, except for the strange look in his eyes.

For Shinra’s version of secret service, you already knew where this line of inquiry was leading to. So you stared at Reno dispassionately, “Yup, it’s an absolute wonder that a Turk such as you, who has to work outside the building most days, has never seen my face in the five years that I’ve been employed at Shinra. It’s not as if I’m just a faceless grunt among a few thousand office workers who are also cooped up in their offices during the work day.” Rolling your eyes, you continued forward, practically bulldozing your way past Reno when he didn’t move aside with his partner. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” You waltzed up the front steps, raising the weaved basket in your hand, “I’ve got a basket to drop off. If you’re looking for Aerith, she’s not home, yet.”

There’s a sound of a metal baton snapping to full length behind you, “If you hurt her…”

Sighing in annoyance, you turned to glare at Reno, who seemed to look like he was going to charge at you with the stun baton. Rude, likewise, was in a combat ready position. “And why the hell would I hurt her?” You hissed, propping a hand on your waist. “Don’t just come to random conclusions. I’m simply here as a favor to her, she’s in the town helping Leaf House.” Waving your hand in a shooing motion, you turned to open the front door, “You Turks are all about the mission, right? So, go!”

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so antagonistic… maybe you shouldn’t have turned around. Because the next thing you know, your arm is yanked backwards, and you’re suddenly pinned facedown to the front porch floor, arms restrained behind you and the painfully tingly end of the baton jabbed into your back. The scream that left your lips was one of outrage, fear, and pain. “What the hell!” You cry out, tears in your eyes as you try to struggle.

“Y/N!” The front door of the Gainsborough household pulled open to reveal Elmyra, who cried out in horror at the scene before her. Before long, the blonde woman had settled on shoving Reno off you, “Get off of her! Just what do you think you’re doing?!” Startled into falling off of you, Reno merely stared wide eyed at the enraged woman, who gestured for you to run as she laid into the jerk with her words.

With Reno no longer pinning you down, your limbs were able to finally take on a more natural position, though the stabbing pain from having them forced into an unnatural position still remained even as you clambered to your feet and sprinted away from the house. Rude didn’t bother to stop you, going so far as to step way off the path to let you through. You didn’t look back as you ran, not even stopping to greet Aerith as she crossed the wooden bridge.

When you were safe in your shabby second floor apartment, you did everything you could to get rid of the pain in your limbs, stretching them out and massaging them.

No such luck.

The pain remained, following you into the next day as you prepared to head back to work. Luckily for you, your job mostly consisted of office work. Signing and arranging paperwork, project reports, and other desk work.

Unluckily for you, you were the only person in the department with your first name. When you returned to your office from lunch, rubbing an aching limb, Reno awaited you, leaning against your desk. The moment you saw him, you paused and walked out of the office intent on avoiding the Turk that had caused you bodily harm.

From behind, Reno sprinted after you, “Y/N! Buddy! Wait up!”

“I don’t see you. I don’t hear you. You are absolutely, definitely not following me right now.” You muttered, not turning your head from its fixed position staring straight and down. If I can just get my ass to Reeve’s office, he’ll leave me alone. If I can just get my slow ass, in these stupid heels, to Reeve’s office, he’ll leave me alone.

Reno, for his part, had no problems keeping up with you, catching up and strolling along beside you, making you growl inwardly in frustration. “Y/N, c’mon. I’m sorry about yesterday. Slow down, you’re going to-”

An uneven part of the carpet failed to catch your notice until your foot caught it, sending you sprawling toward. Ah shit. This is gonna hurt. You muttered to yourself, bracing yourself for impact and closing your eyes… only for the impact to come sooner than expected… and less painful than you expected… I’m still upright? You questioned yourself, opening your eyes to find yourself being held up by Reno, face practically buried in his open shirt and his arms gently holding onto both of your arms.

“See.” The cocky expression was gone now. Only mild annoyance remained as he made sure you could stand on your own two feet, roughly kicking at the uneven carpet in an effort to smooth it down.

“I… thanks.” You finished lamely, slightly unsure as to what had just happened, but glad that you were saved a few bruises… and probably a more severe injury to your limbs.

Reno raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, “Can we talk now?”

You wanted to say no, the memory of being pinned down and tasered still fresh in your mind, but by the Planet, the jerk had just saved you from further injury, hadn’t he? The heavy sigh and slump of your shoulder betrayed your reluctance even as you agreed to speak to the redheaded Turk. “Yeah, fine.”

The Turk second in command seemed surprised that you’d agreed, a breathy and relieved “Great” leaving his mouth as he followed your lead back to your small office.

As you walked the short distance back to your office, you kept a bit of distance from Reno whilst attempting to block out the stares from your fellow colleagues. I can practically hear the gossip spreading now. Oh, did you hear? Y/N’s in a relationship with Reno. Oh, Y/N probably got in trouble with the company if the Turks are investigating them. The thoughts only worsened when you entered your office and Reno closed the door behind him. And that’s my cue to put as much distance as possible between us. You thought to yourself, shuffling to stand behind the desk. Yes, because a waist high wooden structure is enough protection against a Turk…smart. Reallll smart.

“You know, I’m not going to hurt you, right?” Reno looked slightly put out and frustrated at the fact that you had immediately shuffled behind your desk. And you had to hand it to him… despite his reputation as a bit of spazz, his observation skills were fitting for a member of the Turks.

“Tell that to my poor arms.” You spat, rolling your shoulders in another unsuccessful attempt to alleviate the pain that remained from yesterday.

Reno deflates a little when you wince in pain, and lightly scratches his cheek. “Yeah… about that… my bad.”

“Your bad…” you mimicked back at Reno with a hint of disbelief. “Heck yeah it’s your bad! I mean what the hell! What kind of a reason did you have for assaulting a civilian!?”

“That’s uh… we were assigned to look after Aerith… and the way you were acting yesterday… I thought you did something to her.” The explanation that came pouring out of the redheaded Turk’s mouth was lacking, but you let him continue because oh boy did the man sound like a certified walking mess. “And um… I reacted too harshly… which is totally my bad. And I know that’s no excuse, and I’ve already gotten an earful from Elmyra, Rude, and Tseng, so… what I’m saying is… I’m sorry.”

…he looks like a kicked puppy. You muttered to yourself, heaving a sigh as you sat down at your desk and allowed your posture to relax just the slightest. “Fine, apology accepted, but my shoulders still hurt like I got trampled by a fiend. How the hell do I get it to stop?” Apology vaguely accepted, you just wanted him to stop giving you that look.

“I uh… figured that you’d still be in pain.” Reno winced before sheepishly slipping a hand into his pocket and pulling out a beautiful glowing green materia, “It might be overkill, but casting Cure will get rid of the ache-ah… if you’re okay with it?”

You wondered offhandedly what Elmyra had said to Reno for his behavior to have shifted so drastically towards you. Look at the Turk now, you figured that there was no harm in befriending the man. Besides, you probably needed more outgoing friends anyways. “If it’ll get rid of the ache, go ahead, Reno.”

The smile on his face was almost boyish as his arm glowed faintly, casting the healing spell on you. “One full body stress reliever coming right up!” Hm… maybe he’s not that bad after all. The spell was like a wave of relief, not only alleviating the pain from yesterday, but also taking away the tension from months and months of stress. “Feeling better?”

The groan of relief that escaped your lips was probably enough answer for Reno as you stretched, a smile on your lips appearing at the redheaded Turk’s chuckle. “Much better, thank you.”

A moment passed between the two of you until the silence was broken by the sound of Reno’s phone. You couldn’t see the caller ID, but by the way he picked up almost immediately, you guessed that it was his boss, Tseng. “Hey-” The redheaded man was cut off from his greeting as he listened, “Yeah, I just finished…” Blue eyes met yours as he mouth, ‘got to go.’

Reno started to move just as you gave him a farewell salute, smirking when the Turk simply winked back at you before the door to your office closed.

Although you initially didn’t expect the day to turn out so well, you went back to work in a good mood. I guess being friendly to Reno won’t be such a bad thing. As the day passed, your mind absentmindedly wondered when you would see him again.

December 11th… Twenty-four days and seven hours later

“Oho, staying late again?”

A familiar voice broke you out of your furious scribbling while you once again stayed late to progress further in the piles of maintenance reports on the plates. And while you were tired from staring at black and white letters all day, you pushed aside the cranky attitude to at least smile and greet Reno as he approached your usual corner table. “Hi, Reno.” You raise a brow at the drink tray in his hands and gesture for him to sit wherever. “Late night for you, too?”

Reno shrugged and took the seat just to your left, setting the tray down on a spot free of paperwork, “Turks are always on call.” He handed over a covered paper cup, “Coffee?”

“Oh boy, yes please.” You beamed ecstatically when the redhead handed you the heavenly drink. “I’ve been working on this project proposal for the past… I don’t know how long… and it’s just… so much.”

Taking a sip of his own caffeinated drink, Reno took a peek at one of the files sitting on the table. “Huh… ‘Maintenance Walkways In Hazardous State of Disrepair’…’Infested with Mako Mutated Fiends’… I forgot you worked in urban development. What’s Reeve got ya doin that requires so many late nights?”

Despite his asking, Reno made no further attempts at reading the papers on the cafeteria table. Pursing your lips, you eyed the Turk second in command for a long moment, regarding him with as much suspicion as he had directed towards you nearly a month ago. It was well known throughout Shinra that the corporation had bigger goals and aspirations than to serve the people. There were many in the company that truly believed in the work that Shinra did, but as someone who had lived in the slums all your life, and one of the project leaders within Shinra’s Urban Development Division, you held no such illusions of grandeur. With the exception of Reeve, the higher ups in Shinra had no qualms of neglecting the public, only paying attention to the people beneath their feet in order to satisfy their egos and prevent rowdy citizens from forming anti-Shinra groups like AVALANCHE. Reno, a Turk, had to answer to the President and Vice President of Shinra directly, and everything they do is by the will of the two highest powers in the company. If you told Reno of the plate restoration project… would it cause a negative reaction within the company?

“If I tell you, Reno… you have to keep quiet about it.” Despite being tired, you leveled the red head with a grave stare.

Reno raised his arms and displayed his palms out in a ‘I’m harmless’ manner. “If it doesn’t have anything to do with an assassination attempt or terrorist attack, my lips are sealed.” The Turk shrugged, “And if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to. I mostly came here to keep you caffeinated… and to ask if you wanted to grab dinner sometime?”

Well… that came out of left field.

The blush that rose to your cheeks made your embarrassment pretty clear to Reno, who hummed and leaned forward to observe you closer. “Huh… Red’s a good look on you.”

The wink that the Turk sent your way did not help you calm down. “That’s not… uh… why?” Why was Reno asking you out to dinner? You’d known each other for all of twenty something days… not that it was completely unusual for individuals your age to go on dates… if this even was a date.

“I figure you could do with a night free of worries.” Reno explained, now positioning himself to lean on the table towards you. “Plus I get to take a beautiful woman out to dinner.”

You raised a hand to stop his flirting, knowing the rumors that spread throughout the company of Reno’s flirtatious ways. “I accept, but it’s just dinner, okay? I shouldn’t stay out too late.”

The red head seemed happy that you accepted, but pouted nonetheless, “Well then… that’s boring. I was thinking of taking you out drinking with Rude and I.”

You gesture towards the paperwork all over the table, “I have to get the work done eventually, Reno.”

“Fine…” the sigh that left Reno sounded more like a whine than acceptance. The mischievous smirk did nothing to ease your concerns as Reno stood up to help you clean up the piles of paper and notes. “C’mon, the sooner we clean up here, the sooner we can get some grub into your growling stomach.”

“My stomach is not-” Gurrrggghhh… You blushed crimson when your stomach cried out for food.

“You were saying?” Reno raised a brow, mirth glinting in his blue eyes as you tried to act nonchalantly.

“…” Snatching the last of the paperwork on the table and shoving it into your bag, you sniffed in embarrassment, “We’re dropping this stuff off in my office before we go anywhere.”

The red headed Turk actually had the audacity to smirk and salute you.

… Twenty minutes later, you found yourself in a car heading towards Sector Eight… Although Reno had advertised the outing as a dinner between just the two of you, the two of you somehow found yourselves seated in the back seats of the vehicle while Rude drove and Tseng sat in shotgun. Glancing to the side at Reno, he seemed at a loss for words for once, blue eyes glaring sulkingly at the back of Tseng’s head.

“So, Y/N, as I understand it, you work closely with Reeve Tuesti?” Tseng asked, his eyes meeting yours in the rearview mirror despite its angle.

Somehow, you felt like you were about to get interrogated by Reno’s ‘parents,’ if the groan of exasperation from the red head beside you wasn’t enough of a give away.

“Um… I would say closely enough. I’m one of his project leaders, but even that title can be grossly overestimated.” The explanation leaves your lips before you can so much as think, “Because I work on projects that focus on the slums, most of my time is spent doing research and putting together proposals for projects that urgently need to be addressed.” Not that any of my proposals have been accepted thus far. You left the last statement unsaid, and your bitterness at the company unheard. Still, the discontent must have shown on your face, as Tseng started to speak again.

“Do you not like your job?” Such a simple question, but not something you could answer simply. The pleasant smile on the Turk commander’s face, which you glimpsed from the side view mirror, told you that he was well aware that you would have to expand your answer.

Wincing, you turned your gaze away to stare out the window as the car pulled off the highway. “I don’t dislike it, no… but I took the job as project leader in order to help make a difference for my community. But every project proposal that I’ve drawn up and presented has been turned down by the people that have a say in the company.” The sneer that started to form froze before smoothing into a less intense expression as you took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“If you only wanted to help your community, then why take a job at Shinra? And why didn’t you simply quit?” Tseng was prodding at you, knowing that you knew what he was doing.

“Uh, Boss? Bit of a touchy subject, yeah?” Reno protested, sending very clear glares at Tseng’s way.

The Turk commander’s lips twitched in the slightest of smiles, “My apologies, Y/N. I didn’t mean to press you.”

Didn’t mean to press me, my ass! What the hell is this? Another round of ‘Y/N is a suspicious person?’ You thought with a lot of snark, outwardly shrugging, “You Turks certainly do live up to your reputation.” When Tseng rose a brow and Reno stared at your questioningly, you elaborated with another shrug, “The questioning… the false pretenses… you guys are very good at what you do, but…” Sighing, you shook your head and decided to shut your mouth, “Nevermind. Forget it. So long as you’re good to Elmyra and Aerith, I don’t give a damn if you guys restrain me and take me in for questioning.”

“…I thought I already said sorry for that!” Reno pouted, a wounded expression on his face.

The car stopped in front of a restaurant, but you were no longer hungry. Glancing down at your watch, you feigned a sigh, “Well, looks like I won’t be joining you guys for dinner tonight. I just realized that I had something to do in Sector 5.”

“Wait… hold on-”

“Would you like us to give you a lift?” Rude offered, cutting Reno off from his protests.

Bowing your head, you made to get out of the vehicle. “No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine taking the train back. I’m sorry for the trouble. I’ll see you three at work tomorrow.”

With that, you slid out of the car, shutting the door with as little force necessary before strolling down the street towards the train station. After turning the corner, you paused and sighed, shaking your head at the dinner plans. If you were being honest, you were actually quite excited to have dinner with Reno. He had turned out to be more thoughtful and intuitive than you had first pinned him as. Maybe we can have dinner alone next time. Suddenly hopeful, you resumed your gait towards the train station. If you hurried, you could catch the next train back and be in time to eat at the restaurant around the corner from your home.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called out to you, accompanied by the sound of sprinting dress shoes, just as you were about to enter the train platform.

“Reno?!” You stared at the red head as he sprinted the last few meters to stop in front of you, perplexed and worried that he’d run all the way to the train station. The people sharing the train platform stared at the pair of you even as the train pulled into the station. “I… um… thought you were going to have dinner with Rude and Tseng? Did you need something?” You asked, glancing towards the train as it opened its doors.

“Y-you…” Reno gasped, clearly panting for breath despite the fact that he was supposed to be used to this. “You don’t work tomorrow.”

Tilting your head to the side, you admired Reno for a moment, pleased with his listening skills during the times that you spoke. “You’re right. No, I don’t.” You watched as the passengers all started boarding the train. “Reno… I have to catch this train, what is it?”

“Let me walk you home!” the red headed Turk suggested, straightening up and gently taking your wrist in his.

“Wait… What?” What the hell-

“It’ll be fun.” Reno didn’t give you much of a choice, as he led you aboard the train, careful not to tug on your arm too roughly. Once the doors slid close, the red head smirked at your completely baffled expression, “I promised you a dinner date, didn’t I?”

Your turned red as you stuttered, completely conscious of the stares incoming from the other passengers. “But what about Rude and Tseng? How are you going to get home after?”

Reno grinned, “They’re the ones who ruined our plans in the first place, so of course I’m ditching ‘em. And if I need to head home, I’ll just head back with the infantrymen stationed in Sector 5. So don’t worry.” Then, as if realizing that your face was growing more and more red because he was now holding your hand and had moved just a breath away, Reno coughed and backed up. Letting go of your hand, the embarrassed Turk raised a hand to scratch his cheek in the same nervous tic that you’d noticed before. “Anyways, let’s find a seat, okay? It’s been a long day for you… so if you want to take a breather…” Reno’s voice trailed off as the two of you shuffled through the cart to find a pair of empty seats.

Once seated, you sighed and leaned back on the uncomfortable bench. “Five years ago, I was living with my parents in the Sector 7 Slums. My father was an infantryman in Shinra’s army, and my mother was just a regular housewife. Around that time, fiend attacks had mysteriously started to increase… and people started to go missing. My mother went missing one night, and my father was a part of the infantry that was sent to investigate.” The dull ache in your chest increased as you thought back to the events years ago. “Neither of the two came back, and suddenly I was alone. But… I wasn’t the only one who lost a loved one that day.”

“So, that’s when you decided to do something to help your community?” Reno muttered, having turned to pull you into a hug, “But why Shinra? The slums have neighborhood watches that you could have joined…. Oh… eh… but you don’t have to tell me if you’re not up to it.”

Leaning your head to rest on Reno’s shoulder, you chuckled, “You don’t have to worry about walking on eggshells with me, Reno. I mostly gave Tseng a hard time because he was being too nosey.”

“Well… that’s good to know.” The Turk gave a light hearted laugh of his own, relaxing in his mannerisms. “Felt like I was standing on trial for a moment there.”

Rolling your eyes, you elbowed Reno in the side lightly. “Drama queen. But anyways, after mom and dad disappeared, a SOLDIER and his protege were assigned to hunt down the fiends. Before they started their hunt, they made a point to visit all the families that lost someone from the fiends attacks. It was sweet of them, taking the time to check up on us. And it’s because of them that I decided to work at Shinra. That if those two truly believed in the company that employed them, that I would be able to make a difference if only I had those same resources.” The smile on your face turned bitter once you started to think about those two. “After three years, I found out later that both mentor and mentee were quite popular in Midgar… and that they had died.”

“I think I know the two you’re talking about.” Reno muttered, gaze taking on a far away glint. “It’s good to know that they left behind a legacy.”

“They left behind more than a legacy.” You whispered with a fond smile, “Zack’s fanclub became the inspiration for Sector 5’s neighborhood watch. They all wield wooden replicas of Angeal’s sword.”

“A new generation of heroes, huh?” Reno smirked and closed his eyes, “I bet Zack would be ecstatic.” Blue eyes suddenly meet yours, a brightness in them as Reno addressed you, “Be honest, were you part of that fanclub?”

“And if I was?” You raised a brow, glad that the tone of conversation had shifted back to something light hearted.

Reno pouted and slumped in his seat, pulling you along as he playfully whined, “Where’s my fanclub? I want groups of people singing my praises, too!”

“Now you’re just being silly.” You chided, amused by the man’s antics. When Reno continued to pout, you rolled your eyes, playing along. “Fine. Then from now on, you can count me as your first fanclub member.” You raised your head to look him in the eye, “Happy now?”

The hug tightened, but Reno stuck out his tongue in reply. “Eh… I don’t think I can handle having a fanclub. Too much noise. Nah. I’m good.”

This time, you didn’t bother holding back your strength when elbowing him.

…… Around twenty minutes later, the pair of you departed the train with the rest of its passengers, and found yourself seated at your favorite noodle restaurant in Sector 5. Although it was thirty minutes before closing, the boss and chef knew you well enough to take your orders without much of a fuss. While the food was being prepared, you and Reno swapped stories about work and random weird stories.

“-I’m serious about the doomrats! They’re always appearing in Sector 7, stealing random shit and everything! My entire childhood was spent with threats of doomrats coming to steal my toys! My friend, Eli, her entire toy house was taken when her side of the sector was overrun with the pests!” You laughed in between bites of noodles.

“But that’s nowhere near as bad as having to deal with Hojo!” Reno protested, a string of noodles slipping out of his mouth to hang against his mouth. “The guy just takes things without telling anyone and somehow it returns with a bunch of stains on it! It’s like he has no regard for anything outside of his research.”

Your brain brought up a memory of passing Professor Hojo in the hallway once, and you let out a full body shiver. “Ugh… yeah… he does give off that whole… egotistic mad scientist vibe… sometimes, I wonder what the hell is so important that we have to devote so many floors to his research lab.”

“Y/N?” Reno’s humor suddenly disappears.

You blink, startled by the change, “Yeah?”

“No matter what happens… stay away from Hojo, okay?” There’s some concern in his eyes and tone, but he doesn’t elaborate.

You don’t know how else to respond to a somber Reno than to reluctantly nod your head, “Yeah. Okay. He gives me the creeps, so that’s not a problem.”

“I mean it, Y/N. If anyone in the company tells you to bring something to Hojo, you refuse. And if it’s a higher up, you come to me first.” The intensity in his stare is startling.

“Got it, Reno.” Not knowing what to do, you reached out to lightly poke his cheek, “C’mon, I know you have your own reason to be concerned, but I work in urban development. There’s little to no chance that I would have to cross paths with Hojo. So, let’s finish our noodles and stop worrying, okay?”

Reno pauses for a brief moment, taking in a breath and letting it out, a small smile making an appearance again. “Okay. Fine.” Reaching into his pocket, Reno pulls out more than enough gil for your meal and stands up, leaving the money on the table and offering a hand to you, “Let’s getcha back home, okay? It’s gettin late.”

Trailing after the red headed Turk, you stared at his back with a questioning stare. Though you pretended like the sudden shift in attitude from Reno hadn’t alarmed you, your thoughts kept shifting to linger upon the warning that Reno had wanted to make sure you understood. I feel like… something bad will happen if I don’t listen to him… When Reno stopped just outside your apartment building across from Leaf House, you tilted your head to the side, “Why am I not surprised that you know where I live? That’s kind of creepy, ya know?”

Reno startled, spluttering excuses as he let go of your hand and backed up, the warmth from his palm instantly being missed. “I ugh… You know it’s my job-and I just wanted-cause Tseng’s super paranoid about people close to-I’m just gonna shut up now.” The Turk second in command stopped his muttering when he noticed the teasing glint in your eyes, “Oh, ha ha. Very funny.”

“C’mon, Reno. You think I was going to miss my chance at teasing you?” The grin on your face was infectious, prompting Reno to return your easy-going smile.

Gesturing to the two story building, Reno bowed, “I will rest easy knowing that you got home safely, my lady.”

“Oh my!” You gasped, a hand raised to rest against your chest in mock surprise, “What a gentleman!”

There was a silence before the two of you burst into laughter that was probably too loud for that time of night. From down the street, you could hear one of the residents open their window and shout, “Fer cryin out loud, would ya lovebirds shut up! People are tryin ta sleep!”

Stifling your laugh, you practically danced towards the metal stairway leading up to the second floor apartments. “I guess that’s my cue to get inside.”

Reno’s eyes glinted as he stared after you fondly, “Yeah…” There was brief pause before he spoke up again, “Hey, Y/N? Let’s go out for a proper date… maybe, tomorrow or the day after?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled as the agreement fell from your lips without much thought except the want to get to know the man before you better. “I’ll be at my friend’s place celebrating her birthday tomorrow, but I don’t have plans for the day after.”

“Great!” Reno gasped, seemingly breathless as he took a step towards you, “I’ll pick you up at 10, then?”

“Ten works for me!” You agreed, watching the red headed Turk as he closed the distance between the two of you, closing your eyes as you expected something to happen, only to feel a hand rest on your cheek before pulling away.

Confused, you opened your eyes just in time to catch Reno’s smile as he turned away. “I don’t kiss on the first date.” A wink is sent your way as he rounds the corner, disappearing from sight. “Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You don’t know if you want to squeal at the gesture, or punch him for leaving you hanging. Biting your bottom lip in a manner befitting anticipation, you turned to climb up the rest of the stairs with a smile, very much looking forward to the next two days.

When Reno returned to Shinra HQ for the night, Elena would make note of the stupidly happy grin on her senpai’s face… even when he was handed a datapad containing the plans for the next night’s operation.

December 12th

The following night…

You grinned as you watched your friend, Selene, open up her gifts from each member of your friend group. She had just been accepted at her dream career of being a planetary conservationist, and was due to move away from Midgar tomorrow. Though her apartment was empty, you and your friends had brought enough food for the lot of you while you all celebrated and bid your goodbyes to a long time friend.

“Let us know if you meet any handsome guys where you are!” you heard someone joke, patting Selene on the back with a teasing grin. “City men aren’t romantic at all!”

“Hey! I resent that! We’re not all bad!”

“No… she’s right. We’re not romantic.”

Maybe it was the good vibes and laughter that prevented you all from noticing when the ground started shaking. Maybe you had all indulged a little too much on the alcohol. Regardless, no one was laughing when a large steel beam crashed through the apartment roof and landed on top of where Selene had been standing with her parents.

The room descended into shocked silence as all eyes stared at the metal beam…the crumbling ceiling…the limbs sticking out from under the mess of rebar, concrete, and wire…and the blood… All of your faces went pale at the realization of what happened. And then, the panic.

“Oh god!”

“Selene!”

“Someone call emergency services!”

“Help me lift this thing up!”

“So… much blood.”

Stumbling backwards, your eyes darted from the rubble to the moving bodies in the apartment before looking at the hole in the apartment ceiling. The beam could only have been from the plate… But how had it fallen? Had a piece been loose this entire time? …Had this been your fault? You were in charge of the plate maintenance project… you hadn’t read any reports about structure integrity over Sector 7… but maybe there had been something hidden. You shook your head in denial. No, the project proposal was sitting on your desk at Shinra HQ, nearly finished except for the conclusion. There had been nothing irregular about the plate above the Sector 7 slums. Not even when you’d gone personally with the inspectors to investigate.

And then, above the shouting voices and confusion within the apartment, you heard it. Helicopters and gunfire… people screaming outside.

“No…” you whimpered, eyes wide as you sprinted for the front door, throwing the latch open and ramming yourself into the metal door in your rush to get out onto the apartment balcony hallway.

Now that the door was wide open… now that you stood with a view of the Sector 7 Slums, the cacophony of screams and noises reached your ears with no problem. The plate above groaned as explosions detonated along the underside of its structure, sending larges pieces of debris crashing down like meteors upon the residential buildings below. You could see several Shinra helicopters flying away from the plate pillar, where the explosions seem to have originated from. Down in the streets below, the residents of Sector 7 scramble in different directions to avoid being crushed by the seemingly crumbling night sky.

“The plate’s falling!” You cried out to your remaining friends before making a break towards the stairway down to the ground floor, ensuring that the path was clear before waving your friends over. Just as you stepped off the stairs, another massive explosion rumbled violently from above you, the sheer volume of the noise popping your ears and throwing off your balance. A random civilian ran in your direction, screaming and flailing his arms, knocking you down in his haste to get away from another falling metal beam.

You’d landed on your arm wrong, but the adrenaline running through your body kept you moving as you stumbled to your feet and trailed after your friends. Behind you, another giant piece of the plate crashed into Selene’s apartment building with such force that the ground beneath your feet shook as the structure caved in on itself. You watched as people fled from their homes, as fires started and spread. You watched as people begged to be rescued, their limbs trapped under flaming metal and wood. You continued to stumble forwards even when rubble rained down upon you all like hellfire, crushing the unlucky many on the path ahead of you and blocking you off.

You wanted to cry… or maybe you were already crying. All around you, the plate continued to fall, blocking you off from any means of escape. Your ears rang from the magnitude of noises. Your arm had begun to ache from your fall. The flames consuming the houses rose in intensity, scorching your surroundings while you fought to maintain your balance. Trying, among the chaos, to find a way out of this impossible situation. But no. If you went one way or the other, you would be burned severely. Any other way would require you to pick through pieces of metal that were easily ten times your body weight.

Another explosion, this time coming from the direction of the pillar, sent you crashing to the floor from the force it left in its wake.

I hope you all made it out of here. You prayed to the Planet that your friends had gotten out of Sector 7. Looking up towards the falling sky, you could only sob as it fell too fast for your liking. Resigned, you brought out your phone, intent on calling a certain red headed Turk one more time.

“Hey, Reno. It’s me, Y/N…” you dry swallowed and held back another sob, hand raising to muffle your cries of misery. “I just wanted you to know that I’m glad that I met you. I’m really annoyed that you didn’t kiss me yesterday night, and I-” the line on your phone beeped to signal a disconnect, and you pulled the phone away to stare hopelessly at the screen.

No signal.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you bent forward, pressing your face to the cracked glass screen. A shadow swallowed your figure whole as the last of the plate fell down. “Reno…”

“I was really looking forward to our date.”

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

Thank you for reading!

#shian imagines #reno #ffvii reno #final fantasy vii reno #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy vii #ffvii #ffvii remake #reno x reader #mentions of other characters #rude #ffvii rude #tseng #ffvii tseng #x reader angst

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

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Askplosion #12 3/4:

.:Asks Referring to Previous non-Miraculous Posts:.

Anonymous said:

Hi! I saw you mention that you have Asperger’s syndrome in an earlier post. I’m just wondering, how did you find out? I’ve always thought I was neurodivergent (adhd and maybe asperger’s), but I’m not quite sure how to go about finding out, and my parents never had me screened as a kid. Feel free to ignore if this is too personal!

(the post this anon is referring to)

It’s not too personal, don’t worry!

Though, I would really say that it’s something to look up more than for someone to tell you. I know that’s not a satisfying answer but I think it’s different depending on where you live and what specialists you have near you.

Anonymous said:

Remarried Empress Anon Again, a whole post? What an honor! I burnt my food and this made me so happy.

(the post this anon is referring to)

You deserve it! Thanks a bunch!

Anonymous said:

Remarried Empress Anon Again, thank you for answering my asks and for reading Remarried Empress! I honestly didn’t expect much to come of it but the fact you read the comic and saw what I was talking and came to your own conclusions was amazing! I’m sorry if I’m bothering you by bombarding you with asks, and will try to stop doing so. Heck, this doesn’t have to be answered! Just know you are a fun creator and thank you for making my day a little better with your amazing responses!

You weren’t bothering me at all! I’m glad I brightened your day!

asexual-individual said:

I don't know how big the trend of "Magical Girls are made to suffer" is, but after watching Madoka Magica I did notice a few Magical Girl shows where the creators obviously went "Hey, this anime where the Magical Girls suffer and it's all angsty made Shaft a lot of money, let's do our own", and "subversive=money". (Even though many have pointed out that MM isn't actually subversive, since older MG shows have dealt with dark themes plenty of times.)

Yeah, it’s probably one of those inevitable things. People immediately jump on wherever the money’s going.

Madoka Magica probably got so much attention specifically because of the episode three shock value.and all the twisted imagery, plus things like Kyubey with bullet holes all over him made it seem like, “WHOA, DARK.”

Anonymous said:

Remember when I told you about the teenage-bashing in the Star Vs. Fandom? Well, rewatching the show, I'm beginning to think that most of the time, when people in a certain fandom have these opinions, more often than not, the show backs it up for whatever reason. Like, there's one scene where Eclipsa is put on trial and is asked if she's ever eaten any babies(which is just a rumor), and she says no but that she has eaten a few teenagers but, psychologically, they always deserved it.

And in another episode, Star says that teenagers are great at causing problems, which I at first laughed off as a joke, but then in another, Tom and Star were talking about how they broke up, and Star said "Of course we broke up! That's what people do! That's what teenagers do! Teenagers are dumb!" And Tom was just like "Yeah, I know, I know"; there are a lot more examples but I don't care to revisit them. I'm just saying that the teen-hating in the fandom would have to have come from somewhere.

omg I don’t remember that stuff at all; I guess it just blew right past me when I was initially watching it.

I don’t understand the trend of being like, “teenagers are dumb and that’s what they do,” and then either over-punishing or not punishing at all. Are we supposed to believe that all teenagers are just going to “be teenagers” and so we shouldn’t do anything, or that they’re all idiots who don’t understand their own feelings but we should also punish them for it?

I don’t get it.

Anonymous said:

I'm the "tomboys in anime" anon, and yes, I totally agree! It especially irks me(as a girly girl who has a lot to say) when the shortcut to making a girl tomboyish is simply by making her loud/tough/like gaming or machinery, or when a female character is told she isn't enough of a girl because she's like that, but otherwise doesn't look or even act all that "boyish". Even TV Tropes does it, as if the second a girl shows any proactivity or is tough she's a "tomboy".

It really annoys me and almost makes me want to erase the term "tomboy" altogether since it leads to an idea of "I'm not like other girls, I'm better 'cause I do boy stuff"(which I know not every tomboy thinks, but some do). The only reason I don't is because I very proudly embrace the term "girly girl" and terms are meaningless without an opposite(not that you can't like both girly and tomboyish things). So I think the key to fixing this problem is that we shouldn't label people unless they want to be labeled that way.

And I know fictional characters can't speak for themselves, so just to figure out if a female character is a tomboy, I just say that if her only "tomboyish" traits are "proactive" qualities or liking something that's for guys, just don't call them a tomboy because it looks ridiculous and acts like women are inherently passive and weak, so for a girl not to be like that is acting like a man.

I would love to see a tomboy character who likes those things but is actually shy/a wallflower. That avoids the stereotype of "aggressive, hard-hitting tomboy, weak-willed, shallow girly girl" and challenges audiences expectations that "but but but she's a tomboy so she should be loud and strong because strength is for MEN". I also hate when tomboy characters are given no curves because the writers know they're doing something wrong, tomboys can have natural curves too. It's like they think tomboys just don't want to be girls. So, yeah. So over the "tomboy in-name-only" stereotype.

"it makes me feel weird saying that when I’m all for girl power shows with an all female cast, but in this show’s logic, it’s a different ball game". Oh, phew! That's good. Because, like I said before, I'm working on my own magical girl show in which most of the female characters are(black) girls and only girls can use magic in this world, and someone I know keeps telling me that it's not fair that the guys don't get to have magic, so it's good to know that there's someone out there who doesn't think it's "sexist" that magical girls tend to only let girls have powers(unless it's for fanservice or like in Madoka Magica because ick). Because guys get to be in the forefront all too often, so why is it so bad when girls get to be in the spotlight? I know I can't change everyone's opinions but it's good to know someone gets it.

(the post this anon is referring to)

Honestly, I feel like the fact that there’s a label at all is the issue, like you suggested? It might just be a “we have to get ride of the label ‘tomboy’ and ‘girly girl’ altogether” thing, because it’s not like we do the same thing with guys?

Oh wait, we do; guys who do “girly” things are called “sissies.”

I hate this planet. :P

Point being, having to say “tomboy” inherently implies something, which might be a problem all on its own, y’know?

(the below ask is incomplete but the asker clarified after I asked them, so clarification is below:)

Anonymous said:

I just thought back to our little "tomboys in anime" argument and about how you can't really think of any tomboys. So I looked up "tomboys in anime" on Google and clicked on the first link, and literally the first character on the list was a girl with...a flower in her hair and a bikini. The reason she was a "tomboy" according to the list? Was because she is "aggressive" and "competitive". In fact, most of the examples on the list were "she's tough/a good fighter/challenges male supremacy".

(part of this ask is missing and clarified below)

girly girls, while the girly girls always have to be the weak and shy ones(not that shy=weak but you get the idea). But while I may not know most of the characters on the list, and some of them DID look pretty tomboyish, I'm very bothered by the idea that it's their strength and ambition and excellent fighting skills that are branded as masculine. And you know what? I'd actually be offended if someone called me a tomboy, especially if it was based of these reasonings. Because it sounds like they think being a tomboy is the only way to be strong and vice versa. Like I should take it as a compliment that I need to be separated from my femininity in order to be respected. Like, if you're a tomboy, cool! But it shouldn't be used for just any girl who isn't a weak-willed crybaby doormat. I actually don't know why people seem to think being a tomboy or "masculine" for a girl is some sort of badge of honor to wear with pride for rejecting your femininity and being "cooler" than other girls.

the clarification:

Anonymous said:

The missing part was talking about the various tropes having to do with contrasting masculinity/femininity, either in two different characters, with one being masculine and one being feminine(ex. Tomboy and Girly Girl, Sensitive Guy and Manly Man, Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy, Masculine-Feminine Gay Couple), or one character who has traits of both(ex. Girly Girl With a Tomboy Streak, Tomboy With a Girly Streak, Real Men Wear Pink), and how TV Tropes always talks about them as if the "girly" character(or girly side of the character) is weaker or inferior(like how for Tomboy and Girly Girl they might say that the former is tough, competitive, and can fight, while the latter is vain, a priss, and a Damsel in Distress.

Or for Tomboy With a Girly Streak, they might say that the tomboy dresses in a masculine way with their "girly" streak being that they're a doormat or dream of being a housewife. Not that it's wrong to be a housewife.).

To be fair, they don't always do this: For the pages on Magical Girl they talk about how those shows can appeal to multiple demographics, and almost all the quotes on them, they talk about how they're empowered through their femininity and are just as much legitimate threats to their opponents as other heroes. Still, they fall in this trap even then, as on the LoliRock Awesome page, they say "You gotta admit, for a Magical Girl show, LoliRock does have its awesome moments", which ignores that Magical Girl is SUPPOSED to have awesome moments, it's literally an action subgenre! Just because it's frilly and pink and girly doesn't mean it doesn't--or shouldn't--still have badass fight scenes. Just look at PreCure. Shonen should take notes from those shows. But no, whoever wrote that clearly dismissed it as just frivolous and was SURPRISED that the fight scenes were good, just because it's girly!

It’s 2021 and people are still struggling with this concept that girliness isn’t bad and it’s not embarrassing to watch such a show.because GIRLS.

It’s so tiring. I watched Dragonball Z, Inuyasha, and played Pokemon; got a few looks about it at times but people ultimately were like, “okay I guess” (I did get bullied for the Pokemon one but that was more for the “it’s for babies” kind of deal, not a “you can’t like that because you’re a girl,” thing). I can’t really relate to the world of girls who get looked down upon for being “girly” but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand that it must be awful for them.

Don’t even get me started on “Tomboy Lesbian,” I will scream about it and it won’t be happy screaming.

#other: ask and answer #other: non ml talk

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feminaexlux · 4 years

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A Day or 3 in the Life Of...

It was @bloody-no-kissu‘s birthday a week ago (oTL) and I made a Body Swap AU fic for her! Happy (belated) Birthday Bloody! Btw this is Part 1 of 2 🧡

Rated T for a little bit of language I guess

∴

"Hey."

Marinette was still asleep sprawled out over her bed, sheets pushed off.

"Hey, wake up." She felt someone jab her in the side, so Marinette grumbled and turned away from the annoyance. Oddly enough, that other voice sounded like Juleka. "Are you still Marinette?"

Wh-what? Oh no, that's right. Marinette slowly opened her eyes and looked around. She was in Luka's room. In his bed.

In his body. Still.

Which meant that the akuma she defeated yesterday (in Luka's body, that was a surreal experience) wasn't the origin of this problem. She bolted upright, startling Juleka. "Wh-what time is it?!"

"Still Mar, then," Juleka sighed. "It's so weird seeing Lu all… like you, I guess," she mumbled, shaking her head. "Time for class."

"Which class?" Marinette groaned, covering Luka's face with Luka's hands. "Oh god I… I probably… ugh." She needed to… take a shower? Why was Luka's face so itchy? Did Luka need to shave?

Why was Luka's crotch so itchy? Oh no. How did he deal with this every day?

She got a ping on her phone from Luka. They had swapped phones just in case.

Next class is ____, I'll send you directions

Because Luka was in Marinette's body.

This was a very surreal sort of nightmare, but… on one hand Luka seemed very… respectful of the situation. If it had to be anyone, and if it had to be any boy in particular, Marinette had begrudgingly accepted that Luka was the best choice.

Neither Marinette nor Luka answered any calls but they kept sending out texts as needed. For the most part everyone around them didn't find things too strange about either of them. No one but Juleka and Luka's best friend figured it out for Marinette. Surprisingly, Alya immediately picked it up for Luka, but Alya never said a word to anyone else. Alya had followed enough akumas and spoke to enough victims to know that sometimes people were affected in deeply private ways.

But most people didn't notice the switch, which was a relief. Except it was almost heartbreaking that Adrien didn't seem to notice a change.

"Okay, Marinette, you can do this," she said, Luka's voice coming back instead of her own. She still needed to get used to how different his voice sounded when she was in his body.

thanks Luka. Here's my schedule…

how are you doing?

Fine, are you okay?

He seemed to be managing things for her well enough. Marinette wasn't sure if she should be upset or not, but he'd made and sold the excuse that Marinette had caught a cold and was feeling under the weather. That's why "Marinette" had been so… "chillax", as Alya called it.

as ok as we'll be

The only bad thing was he hadn't been nearly as concerned with dressing the part of a Fashion Designer (still in university) as Marinette had hoped for. He had just kinda thrown on whatever seemed comfortable and left her tiny dormitory room. Maybe he might have a better idea today? Marinette wasn't sure. Then again it didn't feel right to expect that from Luka, except for what happened yesterday.

Chloe Bourgouis had stopped him in the afternoon and tried to ridicule him in front of the whole campus. Marinette was there to watch it unfold (mostly because Luka didn't have anything scheduled at the time and Marinette was a natural busybody). Luka stood there calmly listening to Chloe provide a bulleted list of everything that had been such an atrocious fashion faux pas about lame Marinette Dupain-Cheng's choice in clothing.

Luka had looked thoughtful while Marinette was fuming. Chloe couldn't talk to Luka that way! Especially not when he was piloting her body!

Luka (as Marinette) had spoken up after thinking for a few seconds. "Interesting points. I'll consider that. But next time you don't have to be such a bitch about it." He had adjusted the backpack and continued walking off, leaving Chloe and Sabrina (and everyone really) in a relatively stunned silence.

Well, okay, Marinette supposed that was handled… alright. Marinette probably would have sputtered and squawked and made herself look worse but Luka seemed just… observant more than anything.

Now she was just overthinking. She shook her head to refocus on what to do next. Take a shower, get dressed, I should get some breakfast maybe? Head to Luka's class and maybe try to talk with Tikki after to figure out how the heck to break this… curse thing. If it wasn't the akuma yesterday… could it have been another akuma?

Empress was a trickier Butterfly user than Hawkmoth ever was, so maybe Empress had sent out a secondary akuma to wreak havoc more passively while the flashier one took Ladybug (or rather, Red Beetle for Luka's body) and Chat Noir's attention.

God, as if it wasn't hard enough trying to get through university. Now she and Chat Noir had to deal with a villain that was smart enough to use diversionary tactics. She got into Luka's class and sat at the back with Dingo, Luka's best friend. "Hey Dingo," Marinette sighed.

Dingo raised his heart-shaped sunglasses to his forehead and squinted at her. At Marinette in Luka's body. "Hey babes," he said casually. "Still a lil' scrambled, ain'tcha?" Marinette just nodded sadly. "Aww, come on baby girl don't worry. I'm sure Ladybub and Cat Nerd will figure it out!"

"God, I hope so," she said, leaning forward on the desk and dropping Luka's head in his arms. Luka would look like he'd passed out to anyone else but at least Marinette been recording the lessons on her phone for Luka so he'd be able to catch up. That had been what they agreed to when they first found out after waking up that they'd been swapped yesterday morning.

Now that was such a painfully awkward memory. Thankfully Luka was cool enough to accept her pathetic and inane attempt at an excuse to swap earrings. "They're a family heirloom," Marinette had pleaded. "I mean, they mean a whole lot to me! The me me, you know? I… I need to be the one to wear them?"

Marinette ended up being more thankful than anything that it had been Luka that fate had bound her to. He had just nodded and gently took the black studs off, handing it over to her without complaint.

She wasn't going to assume it meant anything more than his taking her word for it. If he knew she'd been Ladybug all this time, that'd… that'd be something, and that something wasn't good. Probably.

Dingo leaned in and whispered "How's Lulu?"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "I thought you and Luka text each other all the time."

"Pfft, like he'd say anything," Dingo snorted. He hid a smile from Marinette. "But you got a way with him, yanno? Maybe that feminine wiles of yours."

"Yeah, like I have any of that right now," Marinette rolled her eyes again. "It's just so awkward though. He's doing so much better than I am and I'm… I just hope I'm not messing anything up for him." She sighed and sat up only to slump down low in the chair.

"You're alright, Mari. Well. Probably. Imma say that maybe this whole body swap thing hopefully won't be permanent or anything you know? Me and Lulu have a gig coming up in a few weeks. You see I'm thinking maybe you didn't pay attention much to his 'guitar lessons'," Dingo had said with air quotes. "Not sure Luka was really teaching you at his best either," he snickered.

"Oh, oh God, I hope it's not permanent! Oh God Dingo why did you have to go and even suggest that?" Marinette groaned, putting Luka's head in Luka's hands. "This is already pretty stressful! Ugh, I wish I knew how to deal with it like Luka does."

Dingo snorted. "Trust me, he's 100% as freaked out as you are."

"No way."

"Yeah? Next time you see him, you take a good look at his hands."

∴

Okay, Marinette wanted to meet up so they could swap notes for the day. This was fine, this was perfectly reasonable. She had wanted to do that yesterday and that went fine, just fine. Everything was just fine.

Luka wasn't going to mention that maybe he spent maybe an hour staring at… himself? Well, okay, at Marinette. He hadn't been sure it'd be comfortable going to bed with her hair still up in pigtails. When he pulled off the hairbands as gently as he could and her hair came undone like it did, it caught his eye and he looked up at the mirror and saw that Marinette was…

Gorgeous, that was the word.

He'd lost his ability to think for a while. She'd never let her hair loose in front of anyone and he had no idea why. He knew she was already pretty and cute and adorable but… something about the loose hair took it up a couple of notches.

So yeah, he wouldn't mention that little detail to her. He'd be seen as kind of a hypocrite after he told her he didn't… didn't really think about her that way. God, why did he say that? "Bodies are bodies, Marinette," he had told her, when she had freaked out about him having to… do anything in the bathroom.

He'd meant it at the time. He'd treat her body like a temple. He did. He really tried to anyway. He just also… appreciated like any good tourist would, maybe? Oh God that was creepy, stop thinking about it Couffaine.

Okay, she was going to get here in a few minutes.

He wasn't going to mention anything about her hair. He wasn't sure how to get it back into the pigtails again but he tied it back in low ponytail. Hopefully she'd be okay with that? He wanted to keep things fairly consistent for her, and he'd never seen her not have her hair tied so he managed a ponytail.

He also tried dressing up, sort of. It hadn't been at all what he intended but he got more attention yesterday trying to dress casually rather than less. That… Bourgeois lady had tried to bitch at him for wearing track pants or something. Along with a hoodie. Luka was honestly baffled at how seriously Chloe took everything about Marinette's clothes. He had heard from Juleka that Chloe was a major pain in the ass, but having to deal with it in person was… an experience. And it was over clothes? Did Chloe Bourgeois have nothing better to do?

He knew Marinette had a little drama and spitfire in her too, but the way Marinette used her force of personality was to help everyone.

Luka loved her for that. Still.

But she wasn't supposed to know that. He did his best to let her know it back 5 years ago when he was 16 and a bit less reserved with his stupid music puns, but she wasn't into him. That was fine, that was totally fine.

Except maybe it wasn't entirely. And this? This body swap thing? Probably pure karma for him just… being an idiot or something. Or being a complete and utter… coward. Now Hawkmoth or Empress or Karma or whatever spiteful Divine Entity had punished him by putting his mind in her body.

The really unfair bit was that she was in his. Marinette didn't deserve any of this crap. Still, it wasn't like he was Ladybug and could fix everything with a Lucky Charm. God he had no idea how to fix this, and it hadn't been the akuma yesterday!

"Hey?" It was something like his voice coming from nearby. Luka looked up and saw… himself, looking somewhat amused. "Did you wait long?"

"Not really. What's up?"

Marinette, in his body, sat down and pulled out her phone. "Just wanted to send over the class notes before I forgot. Also I wanted to check in and um, I guess, see how it was going with you?"

"It's fine." It was fine. It was all just fine. He finally noticed she was staring at his hands, and he looked down and saw that he'd been tapping the little café table with her pen. Apparently hard enough that he made a slight indentation to the wood top. Whoops. "Oh." He stopped and put the pen back in Marinette's bag. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, Luka, you know it's… Are you sure you're okay?"

He stared up… into his own face. God that was going to take some getting used to… then again he really didn't want to get used to having a literal out-of-body experience. Somehow even though Luka was a generally expressive guy, Marinette being the pilot meant that the facial expressions on him were slightly… more? Maybe not exaggerated but definitely more obvious. He actually thought he looked kinda goofy and winced. "Uh, just… it's still weird. That's all."

"Yeah. I'm really hoping it's something Ladybug and Chat Noir can fix. And soon."

"Oh, did something come up?" Luka asked.

"Er, um. Well, no?" Marinette stumbled. "I just meant I'd… not that your body's like bad or anything but I'd love to be back in my own body! I'm sure you hate being in me." Marinette choked. "I-I-I mean… oh god." She facepalmed. "A-anyway, ahem. Yeah." She pushed her phone out toward him. "Here, uh, just so you're not missing anything relevant!" She laughed nervously.

"Do you think it's actually an akuma?" Luka asked, suddenly hit with a suspicion. "I'm wondering why the Ladybugs didn't… fix this. Do you know anyone else that's going through this?"

Marinette blinked, then frowned, putting a finger to her chin. His chin. Whatever. "No, actually. Not even the LadyBlog mentioned anything like this. But what else could it be?"

"I don't know. I'm throwing it out there just in case it's not the obvious answer. I don't have a suggestion on what it could be though."

"Ugh," Marinette groaned, resting his head on the table. "Why is this happening…" She raised his head back up. "Oh, good choice in clothes, by the way."

He stifled a laugh. "Thanks. Didn't want to get you in trouble with Chloe again."

"Pfft, ignore her. She's just petty."

"Did you have to deal with that before?" Luka asked, feeling slightly guilty that he'd unintentionally made Marinette an easy target.

"For the past 10 years or so, yeah. Don't worry, she's always been kind of a bi--bothersome." Marinette had caught herself in time before uttering anything untoward. "Where'd you find that jacket? I thought I lost it a while back," Marinette giggled.

Oh crap. He probably should have thought about what to say about all this but he had… he really had gone through her closet and dresser trying to find something that he thought Marinette would wear. He wasn't a designer in any sense of the word, but he kind of remembered Juleka talking about some of the clothes and the styles she'd modeled when she got steady gigs from a punk design house.

He also figured that Marinette would look good in red and black.

It'd been a somewhat self-indulgent early morning of him trying out a few different outfits Marinette had, and trying to figure out what she looked best in. He had grabbed a red half-jacket and a slim, short black dress and almost tried wearing heels but went for the practical ballet flats Marinette usually wore. He wanted to be stylish, not accident-prone.

"Hey?" Marinette waved a hand in front of him.

"Sorry, was trying to remember where," he smiled. "But I can't. I'm just glad you approve," he said. Oh, that… that was another thing. "And… a couple of other people approved as well." This was going to hurt. "Adrien said you looked lovely in this." She did, but it felt kind of wrong to say that while he was inhabiting her body.

"O-oh really?" Marinette had blushed and tried to cover it up by coughing. "That's nice!"

This was really going to hurt. "Yeah. He asked you out, by the way, but I said you… you'd think about it. He says he's good next weekend for dinner and a movie."

Marinette looked pale. Which was pretty odd in his skin tone. "We have a problem," Marinette groaned. She took her phone back from in front of Luka and scrolled to her messages.

Hi Marinette, it turns out that I didn't have next weekend free. Let's meet up tomorrow!

"I didn't know what Adrien was talking about until you just explained it," Marinette said anxiously.

"Maybe you should tell him no?" Luka half-asked, already knowing that she'd never shoot down Adrien. He knew it was the one chance she had to finally have Adrien notice her as more than just-a-friend. Only Luka was the one that looked like Marinette right now.

"I-I think… I mean we could… we could wake up back to normal tomorrow?" she laughed, brushing hair away from her… his face in a nervous gesture. She stopped, staring down at something. He looked at the same place and noticed she was staring at his… her hand.

Luka had been unconsciously tightening Marinette's hands into fists so hard they had white knuckles.

"You're… right. I should say no, I'll go ahead and say no." Marinette said simply. "If we're still in… this mess tomorrow it's… not fair to you." She smiled down sadly at Luka, reaching out with his hands to unclench and massage hers. It felt… intimate. And… it felt like he was asking Marinette to keep silently suffering like she'd been all these years. He knew how much that sucked.

"I'll do it," Luka said impulsively. "If we're still… like this tomorrow, I'll go ahead and… make it work."

"Luka, you don't need to…" Marinette trailed off, their hands still intertwined.

He tried to smile. "Hey, I think it's time, right? Finally Adrien's noticed. You gotta take this chance."

Marinette looked back down at their hands. "Adrien noticed… the outfit," she muttered to herself. "And he noticed you…"

"Mar--"

"But… if you're willing to help me out, I… I think this is a good opportunity. I've always wanted to see what would happen, and… maybe this is a blessing. You won't be a wreck like I'd be, anyway!"

Luka had his doubts.

∴

Marinette had a plan. She had almost decided on an outfit for Luka to wear except… well that wasn't what Adrien had noticed. She had asked if Luka wanted to style himself again, but… his reply was oddly sweet. Luka had just said "This is your date. I want you to feel comfortable and be happy with it. That includes wearing whatever you want me to."

It wasn't as if she hadn't already planned out the whole date thing in her head about 25 million times and 25 million variations. She knew exactly how she wanted it to go: what to wear, which movie to see, where to go for dinner that encompassed both convenience and privacy. She'd tried to be considerate of Adrien Agreste, semi-permanent bachelor supermodel (and how it might look to other people). She had checked the weather and the sunset time and if certain places were open for the day and if everything was walkable. She just had to adjust for the fact that it was Luka that would actually be on the date and not her.

Actually, if she thought about it, it was a lot better this way for multiple reasons. She'd be free to go out and do her Ladybug duties if the need arose, and Luka was a mirror-surface lake compared to her turbulent white water nerves.

Marinette and Luka had agreed on a somewhat discreet earpiece if there was something that had to be communicated immediately. Marinette didn't want to admit it to herself, but… there was something about this whole situation where she felt… her future was safe in Luka's capable hands. She owed him big time.

Which was why when the date ended, she was so, so thankful that she'd been in Luka's body instead of her own.

∴

"Hey, that was fun!" Adrien said cheerfully. "Next time we should bring Alya and Nino with us."

That sounded… wrong. At least, that sounded like it didn't belong in a romantic date. "… What do you mean?" Luka asked. He'd been doing everything Marinette had asked and it still lead to this? Did Luka really ruin this somehow?

"It was great to hang out, just the two of us, but I think the more the merrier right?"

Luka was confused. "… Hang out? This wasn't a date?"

"Yeah, like a friend-date, right? You'd been so down recently that Nino said I should take you out to cheer you up!"

Oh jeez. "Are… are you kidding me, Agreste? You invite a girl out to dinner and a movie and you say it's not a date?" Luka asked, an edge of acidity in his voice. "How could you lead a girl on like that?"

Adrien looked taken aback. "We've been friends forever, Marinette. You've been feeling down. I thought friends did things like this to cheer you up?" Adrien started looking panicked. "Oh no, did… did you think this was a date? I-I thought Kagami was just being weird when I said you wouldn't think of me like that! I should have listened--"

"What the hell does Kagami have to do with all of this?"

"I'm dating Kagami, Marinette! I've been with Kagami ever since you got us together! That's why I didn't think you'd mistake this for a date!"

"Luka…" he heard Marinette sigh shakily over the earpiece. But no, this was… this was bad. And Luka was angry.

"For a man who's a freaking model and supposed to be meticulously worried about your image, can't you pull your head out of your ass for one second and take a good look at what's happening? You do not take a girl out to dinner alone, especially a girl that's been in love with you for ages, and say that it's not a date after it's done."

"'In love'?! Wh-what? Marinette, I'm… I'm sorry that it happened this way but… I don't understand. I'm with Kagami!"

The Couffaine Chaos energy nearly overtook Luka and he realized he had drawn back Marinette's arm and fist in preparation for decking the ignorant blond. But… this wasn't going to help. Luka lowered her arm and started breathing to calm himself down, realizing a little after the fact that Marinette was yelling at him over the earpiece. "Okay. Fine. If you wanna play it this way, Adrien, fine. I have to tell you, though. I hope you treat Kagami better than this." Luka got Marinette's jacket back from Adrien and threw her evening bag over his… her shoulder. "I'm out. I'll make my way back home."

"Marinette, I'm really sorry!" Adrien yelled after her, trying to grab her arm.

Luka spun back around, batting Adrien's reaching arm away and said "Shut it if you know what's good for you, Agreste. Don't touch me."

∴

Marinette slumped down in her chair outside the theater. Well, that could have gone worse, maybe? she thought at herself. She shook her head and jumped up, running after Luka, who was more or less stomping away in her body. If she'd been able to see clearly she might have commented to herself that basically everyone in Luka's path dove out of the way of his murder walk. But she had… some problems seeing that had nothing to do with the nighttime or Luka's vision and more to do with the fact that she'd been crying.

Because she made Luka have to go through that.

Because she felt more relief than anything, after the fact.

Not because of the final nail in her Agreste Infatuation coffin sinking in and closing off forever her already long-dead feelings over Adrien.

"Luka!" She yelled at him. With his voice. "Luka, wait."

He spun and looked back at Marinette. At himself. He was… he was both angry and extremely worried. "Marinette, I am so sorry," he said to her. "I… I'm sorry. I messed this up for you. God I am so--"

Marinette started laughing. She wasn't sure what had come over her, but Luka was actually acting like she would have and it looked… comical. Because he did nothing wrong. She brushed the tears from Luka's face and sighed. "No, don't be sorry, Luka. You didn't mess anything up. I… I think we were set up!" Marinette laughed again. "God, I'm glad that's over," she breathed out.

"Are… you alright?" Luka asked, as still and as quiet as a mouse. He tightened his grip on her bag and she knew he'd been trying to hide his discomfort.

"I'm… I'll be fine," Marinette giggled, a spillover of the increasingly bizarre reaction of hers. "I'm just… I gotta take a few to um… process this," she continued giggling.

Luka continued holding her bag in a death grip. "Alright. I'm… we should head home."

"No, wait," Marinette said, reaching for… her own hand. "Wait." She gently unfurled Luka's grip and straightened out the fingers, massaging the hand again. "We should talk. Let's… let's get a drink. Like a smoothie or something, not like at a bar. I'm not sad, really."

Luka looked skeptical and Marinette had to laugh. The less exaggerated doubt on her own face was somehow more effective than the overly dramatic disbelief she usually had. "Sure," he said, still doubtful. "But… Juleka's probably at Rose's right now. Let's head back to my place and we'll talk there."

"Better yet," Marinette said, her giggling finally under control. "Let's go back to my place." She didn't have to worry about roommates, at least.

"Hey. I really am sorry about the whole thing," Luka said quietly.

Marinette smiled at him. "Luka, you're…" She pulled him into a hug. "You're wonderful, I hope you know that. You did exactly what I asked for. None of this is your fault." God she was so tiny in his arms. "Thank you. For everything."

"Right," he said slowly. "Okay. Let's go get some smoothies."

∴

End pt 1

#fxl fic #lukanette endgame #marinette dupain cheng #luka couffaine #happy birthday bloody-no-kissu #adrien agreste #minor adrigami #this is why I didn't have a six sentence sunday today lol #body swap au #juleka couffaine #had like one line I should have mentioned #lukanette #endgame lukanette

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imaginejamesandsirius · 4 years

Note

this is like, a super weird idea i've have had in my head for a long time: So, trans Sirius and James are both famous singers (they are together) and Sirius is outed as trans, maybe someone posts and old picture or his dead name, and James is the best boyfriend ever comforting him:) (sorry if i had mistakes, English it's my second lenguage)

((A/N: Warning for forced outing and some mild transphobia- aka people see old pictures of Sirius and assume he’s a woman))

Sirius had made a career out of being a bloke that dressed feminine at times. Technically, he'd made a career out of singing, but more people talked about his outfits, his makeup, and his hair, than his songs. Which was fine by him. He wrote all of his own lyrics, but it's not like he thought they were anything groundbreaking. He'd done three albums so far, and each of them had a single, poetic song that was basically a love letter to James. The rest of the songs on the albums were pop. Maybe pop rock, if the reviewer wanted to be generous. Incidentally, his poetic songs were always the least popular ones, but again, it didn't really bother him. He was a pop artist. He was successful at it in large part because people thought he was gorgeous. It was a nice stroke to his ego, which he always appreciated.

James had made a career out of actually being a good singer and songwriter, which Sirius thought was hilarious. They were quite a pair. Every time a fan discovered that they were married, they expressed shock at how different their styles were-- usually followed by wondering how the hell they were together; Sirius didn't understand how different musical styles were supposed to make them incompatible life partners, but he thought that was pretty funny too.

"I don't want to go on tour again," Sirius said with a frown-- not that Benjy could see it. The beauty of phone calls was also the biggest drawback: Benjy couldn't see what Sirius looked like. It meant that he could stay in his pants while talking, but it also meant that Benjy couldn't see his expression and react accordingly.

"I know you said that, but-"

"But nothing, Benjy. I've got a husband that I do like seeing every once in a while, and I can start on the next album like you wanted."

"It's an over exaggeration to say that you starting on the next album is what I want," Benjy, Sirius's manager said. "I offered it as an alternative to going on tour."

"And I've accepted, so what's the problem?"

Benjy sighed. "Nothing, I guess. Tell James hullo for me."

"Will do. And thanks." Sirius knew that he was a pain sometimes, but whenever he was too nice to Benjy, he never ended up getting what he wanted. He once hadn't seen James in person for three consecutive days for a year and a half because he had kept telling Benjy that it wasn't the end of the world if he stayed on the road.

"Uh-huh. I know it's your time off, but keep in touch, yeah?"

"Yep. Bye."

Benjy echoed, "Bye," and they both hung up.

"Hey sweetheart," James said, putting an arm around Sirius's waist and pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.

"You're cuddly," Sirius noted.

He hummed, not denying it. "Just love you is all."

"Aw, you love me? How embarrassing."

"I've always been in love with you, and not once in my life has it embarrassed me."

Sirius flushed a light pink but pretended like he hadn't. James saw it anyways but kept his mouth shut. There had been times where Sirius didn't like himself in the slightest, but James had always liked him. Every inch. When he had his dysphoric days, James loved him just the same; it helped.

James was plucking tunelessly at his guitar as he frowned at his music notebook, and Sirius was laying on the ground with his feet propped up on the armchair in front of him. Ah yes, the glamorous lifestyle of popular musicians.

Sirius was having a pretty good time of it. Doing nothing was quite a bit of fun. It was one of the only things he really missed from their school days. Even on his days off, where he purposefully sat around doing nothing, it felt like he had been run ragged. Sirius loved his life, and he liked performing, but a part of him couldn't wait for the day when he got to retire. They'd be able to sit around like this all day, every day.

It was as he was having that thought that his life decided to take a dip. His phone was sitting on the coffee table, and it buzzed several times in quick succession from new messages. "Can you kick me my phone?" Sirius asked, not wanting to get up to see if it was important.

James paused playing, then did as Sirius asked and kicked it off the end where it landed near Sirius.

He picked it up and unlocked it, then frowned. "What's Benjy texting me for?"

"Well, he's your manager. I'm sure he has lots of reasons."

Don't panic.

Well that was comforting.

I'll take care of it.

People might say some shite, but your #1 defence is to just not look at it.

Sirius itched to get on twitter and see what he was talking about, but to date, Benjy hadn't given him bad advice. If he said that Sirius didn't want to see it, then it was probably true. Still, he needed to know what the hell he was talking about.

What's going on?, he texted back.

Someone found an old photo of you and James at school.

Oh. Sirius swallowed. If it was from Hogwarts, then Sirius hadn't come out, and he sure as hell hadn't transitioned yet. James was back to plucking at the guitar strings, evidently coming to the conclusion that if Sirius hadn't told him what it was about, then it wasn't important. It's not like Sirius was going to keep it from him, but he wanted to know what was going on, and James would tell him not to bother with it. He'd tell James what was going on-- as soon as he figured it out himself.

You're gonna get pissed at me for looking, aren't you?

DON'T. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SIRIUS DO NOOOOOT.

Sirius read the text and didn't reply. He wasn't going to look at all the comments-- really, he wasn't. He just wanted to know how this had started.

It wasn't hard to find.

Some fan of James's was attending Hogwarts and had recognised him in an old photograph. They'd snapped a picture on their phone and uploaded it. Guys, teenaged James Potter!!! I guess that's his girlfriend before he got married :P Sirius had hair down to his shoulders now, but back then, he hadn't cut it once and in the picture, it was in two low pigtails. He'd had to wear the girl's uniform back then, which meant a pleated skirt and a blazer in red instead of trousers and a yellow blazer like the boys had gotten. He'd hated that uniform. He'd gotten more detentions for wearing the wrong uniform than he had anything else, which was sort of amazing considering how often he'd acted out in other ways.

Someone else had said that the girl in the picture looked an awful lot like James's husband.

Someone new put that picture side by side with one of Sirius's current ones. Dude, does @siriusblackpotter have a twin sister or smthn?? He has mentioned "family issues" before...

It went from there to someone unearthing the names listed for the original picture, to someone pointing out that he never took his shirt off for photoshoots, to someone finding both records of him changing his name. That shite was on public record. The only reason he'd gotten away with it up until now was that no one had thought to look for the first one.

Sirius exited out of twitter and crawled over to James's chair, leaving his phone where he'd been sat before.

James stopped playing, peering at him curiously. "You alright, love?"

"Mph."

"Benjy trying to get you on tour again?"

"Nah."

James threaded his fingers through Sirius's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. "Then what's up?"

"Someone found an old picture of us in Hogwarts."

There was the briefest pause in James's hand before he resumed. "All over social media?"

"Yeah."

"What did Benjy say? That was Benjy texting you, right?"

"Yeah. He said he'd come up with a statement or summat, and I should just wait it out."

"Good advice," James said mildly.

"You disagree?" Sirius asked, tilting his head back to look at him.

James gave a small shrug. "I dunno. I'm sure from a PR point of view, that's the smart thing to do."

"But?"

"But all I want to do is... I dunno. Something mushy. Let everyone know I love you."

"Pretty sure they already know that. I think the marriage might've tipped them off."

"Might've," James agreed with a small smile. With the hand still holding the guitar, he held it off to the side and leaned forward to kiss him. They kept it short since it was an awkward angle, and if James tried to stay that way for very long, he'd probably fall off the chair entirely. It did Sirius a world of good to feel it, brief as it was. Feel��him. He leaned back in the chair again, but he kept the guitar away. Evidently, the time for figuring out a new chorus line was done for the moment.

"I love you," Sirius said. He knew that James knew that. But he liked saying it, and he knew for a fact that James liked hearing it.

James's eyes lit up like Sirius had given him the world-- just like he did every time Sirius said it. "I love you too. You want to do something fun?"

"Fun how?"

"Eh, dealer's choice. We could watch a horror movie and eat ice cream."

"I hope you realise the only part of horror movies I like is the part where I cuddle up to you."

"Liar," James said with a grin. "You also like the blood sprays."

"I just think they're funny is all," Sirius said.

"Thinking it's funny counts as liking it."

"Hm, disagree."

James rolled his eyes. "Does that mean we're on for a horror movie?"

"Absolutely."

#prongsfoot #marauders #fanfic #james potter #sirius black #filled #established relationship #married #no magic au #post hogwarts #siriuslystarbucks #Anonymous

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