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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug

genre | lila salt, so much salt

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life.

w.c | 8.1k

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass.

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it.

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?”

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess...

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared.

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.”

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads.

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child.

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.”

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate?

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain.

Was it...?

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps.

Perhaps it was possible.

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise.

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?”

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?”

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?”

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.”

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily.

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks.

No.

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again.

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead.

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them.

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!”

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines.

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?”

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.”

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for.

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support.

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl.

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,).

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything.

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed.

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one.

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on.

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.”

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one.

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart.

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done.

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks.

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation.

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself.

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill.

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers?

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!”

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.”

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter.

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?”

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen.

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face.

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was.

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.”

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.”

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery.

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being.

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had.

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist.

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white.

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...?

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.”

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom.

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?”

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string.

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done.

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.”

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone.

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!”

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her...

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on.

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...”

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?”

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.”

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...”

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?”

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word.

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.”

A collective choir of groans rounded the class.

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?”

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely?

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?”

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed.

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?”

“... No.”

“...”

“... Maybe.”

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.”

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.”

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?”

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.”

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression.

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?”

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?”

This elicited another round of groans.

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally.

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery.

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam!

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled.

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette?

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right?

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point.

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft.

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other?

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.”

Alya was silent.

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes.

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?”

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally.

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates.

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job.

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.”

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom.

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?”

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.”

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know...

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.”

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.”

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row.

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.”

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him.

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?”

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered.

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.”

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in.

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled.

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea.

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?”

The class agreed, nodding along.

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president.

This is your problem now.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?”

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?”

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly.

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.”

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?”

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile.

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—”

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.”

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’.

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?”

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice.

“Determination was always one of your good traits.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there.

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.”

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations.

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond.

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come.

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet.

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars.

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write...

#ml salt #ml saltfic #saltfic #lila salt #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien salt #miraculous ladybug #alya salt #[ris writes]—✧

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limetimo · 2 years

Text

RAB fics I read this week (16-22 Jan)

Tides by jimmyjanejams ROYALTY PIRATES AU I REPEAT ROYALTY PIRATES AU WITH RUNAWAY PRINCES SIRIUS AND REGULUS AND PIRATES REMUS AND JILY

i see how this ends (poorly) by Quillium Seer Regulus dreams how people die and upon realising that fate is not set in stone, sets out to save as many as he can. Ya'll I'm in love with Evan Rosier

Rough Waters by Anonymous Remus and Lily get sorted to Slytherin, and when Regulus and his friends arrive to Hogwarts a year later, they become friends! Watch Remus be a foster big brother to tiny danger noodles

Trials and Tribulations by lemon_drps THIS. THE FLAVOUR. Set after Sirius ran away from home and Regulus has to step up as the heir. I'm. I love what lemon's doing with Regulus' mental and emotional state. So good.

For Shits and Giggles by silverfield If Regulus' digesting tract is going to kill him he's going out with a bang. He's so stupid, I want to hit him ♥ Slowburn Jegulus!

Chained by maquira Teddy Lupin is playing potions and since it's Grimmauld Place he's playing at, he ends up adding time turned sand in the mixture. Both him and Harry are yeeted back to 1970s, and Harry is blackmailed into attending the Death Eater Academy. No seriously, the Death Eaters are so well organised, no wonder the Order was losing something terrible.

Prove It by fuckboyregulus for ScreamingFae James is an art thief, Regulus is an art thief, they should kiss ♥

Genetic Lottery by Trex_patronus Younger siblings rights! As always with Trex, immaculate siblings interaction ♥♥♥

Of Leaves and Stars by irrationalmoony, LadyAmina it's modern magic au, Remus never went to Hogwarts, also is trans, Sirius is gender fluid, and they have phones. No Voldemort. Regulus shows up around... chapter 18? Maybe?

A Thing Like Stars in the Dark by toliveinthesky Regulus + Cave = chewed on Regulus in hiding first with Sirius and Remus and later with the Potters. Gorgeous, I enjoy it immersly

Pages of You by wolfpants the focus is Drarry but Wolfstar owns a Queer bookshop and Regulus is dating Fabian and it's very cool ♥ muggle au, too

When All Hope Was Lost by HogwartsIsMyHomeJMC 📷 Escaping the Malfoy manor Harry dies and Hermione uses a Dumbledore-ex-machina to travel to 1970s and becomes the leader of Horcrux Hunters: Marauders edition. Regulus has yet to show up but he's in the tags! :D

The Horcrux Hunt by Keysie I tag this one every week do I even need to introduce it anymore? Remus and Regulus are saltmates and yelling at Dumbledore is cathartic ♥♥♥

Sky Full of Stars by TowardTheStars Severus/Sirius, they both have issues, Jily in the making, Regulus is a good boy, Peter is a cunt, trust me on this

Waves of Magic by xivz Regulus is dying of pancreatic cancer and wishes to have his family around him for the Christmas. Sirius takes his roommate (oh my god they were roommates) for moral support... and finally realises they're married in everything but law.

After Everything, Always by Reggie4dayzz James and Regulus are casual fuck buddies, what could go wrong?

Mad as a Wet Hen by Trex_patronus Regulus can't swim and his friends don't know.

Is It Really You? by fuckboyregulus muggle au. Regulus died 5 years ago. James always sees his ghost everywhere, so he doesn't really pay attention when Harry claims Daddy is here. good shit.

when you were mine by battlehamster felon Regulus is house arrested at his high school sweetheart's, single dad James Potter's, house. Are they over each other or will the feelings bloom anew, stronger than before?

Living as if the past didn't exist by 6coolaish6 fem Harry gets yeeted to the 1970s, enlists Regulus and Remus, stuff happens...

Seek(er) and Ye Shall Find by fallovermelikestars Regulus wants to tell Sirius about the Mark before he finds out in another way. It goes both better and worse than he hoped. Beautifully written.

BLAME by YouBlitheringIdiot for potting_lilies the premise fucked me up, I want to straight up murder Dumbledore. James takes the blame for the Prank, gets expelled, and agrees to join the DEs to spy for Voldemort. No sight of Regulus yet but I have high hopes and honesty I'm so invested I'm going to devour it anyway

survived by by justwhatialwayswanted I'm screaming get your tissues ready, MY HEART. Regulus is mourning his best friend, and is joined by an unexpected person.

---

The Black Sheep Dog I know everyone loves this series. I tried it once but I was in a bad place for it mentally and emotionally. (Orion blackmailing Sirius into coming back was too hard at the time.) Had to quit and have been avoiding it since. I came across it this week and marked it for later in case I ever feel like braving it again. But the reviews are really good and the writing was immaculate so you should check out the tags and go for it!

Nor All That Glisters by sweet_s0rr0w this one has NOTHING to do with Regulus at all, it's pure post wizarding war Drarry, but ITS SO GOOD OMG I'm dropping it here anyway

#regulus black #fic rec #I'm concerned for my own health ahahaha #how are there so many #what does a girl gotta do to get employed writing book summaries?#like GURL I'll read you books and write you summaries you never heard of

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pandorasbox341 · 3 years

Text

My art journey...

I wanted to make a post of my art journey so far! I’ve been drawing ‘seriously’ for 10 years now! I’ve never had any formal training in art. I just draw what I want and what makes me happy!

Since I was a little kid I’ve loved drawing, but I’ve only started drawing seriously back in 2011 (I was 17). I picked up a pen and I didn’t put it down. I drew nonstop. Files and files full of drawings. I still have ring binders FULL of old drawings. I’d just buy a huge pack of printer paper and school art supplies. The cheapest things I could find. I still buy the cheapest art supplies! I loved ballpoint pens and coloured pencils! I didn’t know about references or art tips or anything like that, I just drew what I wanted. I didn’t care whether it was anatomically correct or anything, I wasn’t posting anything online by that time. It was mostly OC and fanarts. My main source of references were comic books.

^^ Here are some pages from my OLD sketchbooks! These are from 2011-2013. I draw on loose papers and then I stick them in a sketchbook. Some of these were even drawn on linepaper.

From about 2011 to 2013 I was experimenting with my drawings and just having fun and enjoying drawing. I tried out every art medium. I loved painting with acrylics (again mostly cheap school supplies, back then we didn’t have fancy art/stationary shops in my town, now we do YAY!!). I tried charcoal once and it was a disaster!

In 2013 I opened my first art account on DeviantArt, that was the first time I started posting my art online. My very first post was a Frank-N-Furter acrylic painting. Here’s some drawings from back then. Some paintings, but mostly pencil drawings.

When I started to explore DeviantArt and saw how other people drew and how good they were I got very intimidated. I started becoming more ‘serious’ about my art and I wanted to improve more.

I started out with realism. It was very hard and frustrating, but when I saw how realistically other people drew and how good their art was I wanted to do that as well. I was tracing a lot during this time.

In 2014 I became obsessed with My Chemical Romance, it was practically the only thing I drew! I was drawing traditionally and editing my drawings on the computer with a mouse.

In 2016 I became obsessed with Undertale and I drew it nonstop! Undertale helped me improve my art a lot and helped me explore more and try out new things. I was slowly getting used to editing my drawings on the computer, enhancing the colours, adding effects, erasing mistakes etc.

It was during this time that I moved away from the frustrations of realism and went back to my roots - CARTOONS!

In 2018 I fell in love with Invader Zim. Invader Zim was a huge influence in helping me become more comfortable with my own style and the way I draw.

In 2019, on my 25th birthday, I got my first drawing tablet, a wacom intous that I still use. It took a long time for me to get used to it and it felt like I had to learn how to draw all over again. It was really hard for me to get used to a tablet. I started out only using it to edit my drawings. It was way easier using a tablet than a mouse to fix my drawings! I slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) got more used to a tablet.

For a long time, I was very self-critical about my art style. Fandoms helped me realise that I don’t have to do realism or draw perfectly for my art to be ‘good’. These days I’m way more comfortable drawing and not caring whether my art is ‘good’ or not. But social media still has a way of making me feel inferior when I see others art. Usually, I try to ignore it, because there’s really nothing you can do about it. I’ve come a really long way with my art. It’s no picnic, I’ve cried and ripped papers to shreds out of frustration! But I’ve never stopped drawing. It’s really a matter of keep going and not stopping. It makes me happy to draw and I love doing it. But I’m also happy where I’ve got so far!

#my art #art progress

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bluewinnerangel · 3 years

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Love you goodbye for the song analysis thing

Lovely ask lol, @greedy-queen has nice posts/translations about Love You Goodbye in both spanish/english here - here - here.

But my interpretation is a little different. AFAIK the most common interpretation is that it's about Louis' breakup with E (even among those who don't believe that was real, making it a stunt song). And eh I'm not buying that. I doubt you can make any artist motivated enough, to get creative enough to write an entire song from the point of view of their fake public story without any other meaning to the words and worse, to get them to claim it's their favorite song too.

Love You Goodbye analysis under the cut:

With all "stunt songs", I think it's most likely that the artists had something written and rewrote/morphed/added to it to make it fit whatever context the public would swallow easily without it losing its original meaning. I think romantic personifications of perhaps non-romantic subjects are very very common in songwriting as it makes the song more appealing to the audience. Back to Love You Goodbye, the smack-in-your-face most obvious interpretation of the song is that it's about a break up, more specifically break up sex.

However! This whole album is FULL and I mean just littered with goodbye songs, “Hey fans, uh, we’re gonna say goodbye now, have some songs to cry over”, and Love You Goodbye is right in the middle of it. There is also Olivia, Long Way Down, History, Walking in the Wind. I'm not saying that's the only meaning to these songs and the rest is a filler, for sure not, it's just a bigg common theme. And this makes sense if you think about the mindset all the writers were probably in as they were working on these songs, knowing it would be the last in a while, I can imagine it was a common thing they were all feeling, and so it's reflected in the songs they wrote at the time as a result.

But then I went sniffing for parallels between Love You Goodbye and other 1D songs (besides those on MITAM) and found Little Black Dress, Change My Mind, Back For You!

In other words: Love You Goodbye could be a mash between "this is my farewell song for 1D" and "it's made up of other older 1D songs I love".

Let's grab the bye-bye's out of the mentioned MITAM songs:

Then the possibly Little Black Dress inspired lines (again Change My Mind and Back For You are great parallels too, but 1. it's generic 2. Louis didn't write them and mainly 3. I can't be bothered):

And welp there we have it already. That's the whole song.

EDIT: it took me a whole day to realise I made a lyric analysis without breaking down the lyrics

Away to it now!

The best thing would be split the lyrics up in 2 parts as there seem to be different things going on. Almost as if he wrote a couple of lines about one thing, a couple of lines about another thing, took those pages and just went now kiss. Lemme try to visualise this. I think these lines go together well:

These lines don't parallel older 1D songs (as far as I could tell), can easily be directed at the band/the fans and saying goodbye to it, and the placement of these lines fits that 2 concepts idea too. The first line "It's inevitable everything that's good comes to an end" is pretty self-explanatory, hiatus is coming. The second, "It's impossible to know if after this we can still be friends" can be literal as well towards the bandmembers or in case of the fans "still be friends" could be a way of saying to stay a fan, to stay in contact, stay connected.

In the second verse, "Unforgettable together held the whole world in our hands" really gives away these lines are about being in the band, and the second line "Unexplainable the love that only we could understand" is, welp k thanks for sneaking in the gay again. This line also reminds me of "when they said a love like this would never last" in Too Young.

I'll get to the bridge

For the remaining lines in the song, these are carrying the the break up sex song context. Line 3-5 in verse 1 could possibly be inspired by Little Black Dress (repeating myself here, sorry), and in verse 2 these make me think of Change My Mind. And the chorus as a mash of the two:

(this can very well be coincidental as it's all super generic, I don't think you need to go back to an older song to come up with these lines, just saying, it's there)

For the bridge, this could be read as again the final piece of songwriting for 1D, "one more taste of your lips just to bring me back", let's do this one last time (chorus: "won't you give it to me one last time"), but then it's put in the context of being in the band again: "to the places we've been and the nights we've had", and then the 3rd line bringing the whole song together "because if this is it then at least we could end it right".

For more like this see my list of song analyses.

#hope that was what you were looking for #into the tag bins>#welikeparallels #smart things with lyrics #love you goodbye #mitam #little black dress #1d said goodbye #and we cry #if anyone wants me to do more like this just send an ask :)

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anxiouslyfred · 3 years

Text

Edited Lesson Plans

for @dukexietyweek‘s day 5 prompt ‘School’

Summary: The science experiments Remus includes in his lessons baffle most of the staff for how he’s able to get them past health and safety concerns. Virgil is just glad he hasn’t been questioned over stealing the plans to add precautions to them yet.

Warnings: elusions to chemical accidents, vauge mentions of bad lab safety, explosion mentions

/\/\/\

“Again? He's managed to get these major experiments in his work plan again?”

“Who the hell is he bribing to be allowed to do this stuff? Even I couldn't get a risk assessment thorough enough to do these things!”

“Remus has to be like dating the headmasters daughter. That's the only way Mr stick-up-his-arse Read would be letting him do these experiments. They're just too dangerous.”

“I think that's why Remus is doing them. Have you seen him mope when one is rejected?”

The talk in the staff room had once again returned to Mr Remus Cethalapod as the lessons plans and class schedules were shared among the teams, including the weeks where teachers should expect delays from students leaving specific classes. Virgil was sat working on fine tuning his own quietly, listening in, but never expected to join in with their talk.

That was the other certainty he knew the other teachers and faculty held, Remus would include science experiments no sane person would demonstrate to their teenage students, and Virgil would only speak up about issues with lesson plans if he saw classes overlapping with his that could be risky. The only exception to his demands to see the risk assessments were Remus's despite those classes following or precluding his own most often.

He smirked, making a few quick notes on a plan for the woodworking module. If the class picked up the skills in a different time period to expected a few classes might be moved around which would help with when Remus had chosen one of the few repeated experiments to be done.

“What is up, Bitches! Have I convinced any of you to give up repeating the same old plans and get something interesting in those classes?” Remus yelled, barging in to check the schedules for next semester.

“Why would we need to include something interesting when your lesson plans could well blow up the school?” Nate scoffed, shaking his head, and clearly unhappy that his classroom designation for the next semester was beside Remus's.

Virgil was tempted to speak up at that, defend his risk assessments except he wouldn't even acknowledge to Remus that he'd regularly steal the other teacher's lesson plans to make sure they're safe, or at a minimum have all possible and extremely necessary safety measures in place. He was certain that his input was known about though.

Remus just beamed at the veiled criticism. “My fairy health and safety agent says every class I do is safe as long as I follow the purple ink. Can you say the same?”

“You're creating fantasy creatures? You're meant to be a science teacher!” Nate's protesting was cut off as the first school bus arrived and everyone refocused back on this semester rather than the next.

/VR\

Teaching Engineering and Resistant materials had always been Virgil's main interest, and a lot of that relied on science not only to improve and progress but to remain safe for the people who practised it. Getting a few journals on Chemistry added to his reading list wasn't too difficult to do after Virgil first met Remus.

He'd loved the passion and energy when he'd heard Mr Cethalapod teaching during a free period in the first year they'd worked together at the school. Discovering that the class had been mixing dangerous chemicals without enough safety precautions however had him basically panicking for 20 minutes before he forced himself calm if only to focus on his next class and the teenagers about to be playing with fire as much as soldering some metal together could be called that.

After that day Virgil would steal Remus's lesson plans, originally just to satisfy himself that they wouldn't be putting students or teacher in danger, but all too soon he was adding sheets with safety instructions and getting risk assessments filled out. Enough of the things he did could cross over, although temperatures in chemistry got higher than they ever would in resistant materials and the chemical element rarely impacted engineering to the degree it would of course inspire a chemistry class.

Remus even seemed to accommodate his lesson plans getting stolen, once when they were first written, once soon before the start of each subject and finally the week before he'd teach the class. When Virgil had first realised that pattern had been deliberately made he tried to hide more, put the things back exactly as he'd found them, terrified there'd be some consequence for his interfering. Remus had after all once made a class where a parent had complained over his teaching style only read their books for a term, conducting the experiments he'd planned to show or have them do silently at the front of class, and another time brought in a mobile lab so he could walk his class around behind the PE class after the teachers were disparaging his class loudly at the end of the day.

Instead nothing had happened, except occasionally his additions would have more corrections added. Of course the corrections were usually only on the severity of the injuries that could occur if one of the safety risks wasn't followed, but it was an acceptance of his guidelines regardless. Even Virgil's students had mentioned feeling calmer and safer during experiments with Remus bringing new precautions in, all of which had been his own additions.

Honestly, being called a 'fairy health and safety agent' had Virgil snickering for the rest of his day. He had the powers of magic and way too much fear on his side and with it would save the school from dangerous experiments. That sounded like a lot more fun than screaming and lecturing the headmaster whenever one of the other teachers blatantly failed to follow even the basic health and safety precautions.

When Virgil gets the lesson plans at the end of that week a tiny part of him was tempted to put fairy wings on of something while taking them. He wouldn't do that for fear of having to explain why if another teacher spotted him, but it was a thought.

A thought that vanished along with everything else that night when in green highlighter, covering the last page of lesson plans Remus had scrawled

Dear H&S Fairy, I'll clap all the times I can to make sure you exist if only you come with me on a date next Friday. Love and other Goopy Stuffs, Remus xoxoxo

Please, Virgil could only pray, please say Remus actually had figured out he was the one doing these plans, because he wanted, but could not face turning up only to find out Remus thought it was some other teacher or administrator.

Before he could worry about that any further he scribbled a reply just underneath the note, signed with a doodle of a fairy.

/VR\

Now it wasn't that Remus had forgotten asking the Engineering teacher out on his lesson plans, or that he hadn't seen the response once they were returned to his desk. It's that he absolutely hated planning ahead any more than was necessary and his dreams were just of inspiration striking for the perfect date the minute they met up at his car.

Only as he was setting out the lesson and getting the students ready to carry it out did he finally think that someone so concerned with safety they'd steal his lesson plans might actually feel better if he had a plan in place. Remus couldn't exactly create a plan while teaching though, so it really would just be up to the evening and the thoughts it might bring to do.

He couldn't imagine a date being as full of risk as playing with low level acids though.

Virgil was already leant against Remus's car by the time he reached it and all Remus could do was beam. “I actually got it right! Damn, and Mr Read always says I can't figure out anything except explosions.”

“Glad to be who you wanted, should I even ask if you have a plan for tonight or just accept you're making this up as we go along?” Virgil snorted, pushing himself up as Remus rounded the car.

“I can at least guarantee lower chances of injury than I might find if you weren't with me.” Remus countered.

Perhaps they'd only really communicated via lesson plans and occasionally crossing paths around the school up until this point, but Remus couldn't wait to see where this first date might take them.

#dukexiety #dukexietyweek2021 #remus sanders #virgil sanders #mentioned logan sanders #teacher remus #teacher virgil #cw poor lab safety

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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 years

Text

Paintings & Picture frames. [Pt.7]

Daryl Dixon x Reader [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

A/N: We’re nearing the end of intro week! I’m thinking of ways to keep them interacting after this, I don’t wanna end this story yet but I also don’t wanna make them date immediately just so I have a reason to make them spend time together. Updates after the next chapter may be a little slower because of this! Please enjoy this chapter!

Daryl loved watching you work, with everything you did there was this softness and it all looked so carefully thought out from his point of view. Not like his work that was all rough, and his mechanic work may have intricate parts but it was no way to be considered art. The two of you kept working for a while longer, constantly finding small things to edit or fix. After the umpteenth tiny edit, wondering what color would suit better with the photos used on your cover and eventually setting on one you realised it had started to get late already and your stomachs were grumbling for some food. Hearing your body make all the hungry noises you immediately felt embarrassed and felt a blush creep up your cheeks. Daryl noticed your shifting and let out a soft laugh. "

Ya wanna eat? I can head home if we're done." He offered. He wasn't sure how much longer he was welcome now that you had finished your schoolwork. You didn't want him to leave yet, it was nice to have someone over for a while, even if it was just for school. He was nice to be around and in a new town that was amazing already. "We can order something, I got paid this week so I got some extra cash to spend." You offered to buy dinner for the two of you and Daryl wanted to say no and go home, but he really didn't want to go back home again. He'd see you at school tomorrow but what was gonna happen after the project week was done and you both went your own ways? He wasn't ready to have that happen just yet so he reluctantly agreed on having dinner with you. "Yeah, sounds good. What're ya thinkin' of?" He asked and you opened up your local delivery service website. After going through multiple suggestions that were turned down by you being a picky eater or Daryl not being in the mood for that kind of food you ended on pizza. The one topic you immediately agreed on, a share size barbeque chicken pizza with extra bacon. After you ordered the pizza you went over to your desk to set up your printer to get your project on paper and all nice in a folder. Making sure all the pages were in the right order, adding the cover in the page sleeve on the front and putting the original artworks you made behind the last pages as well as some extra printed photos you made during Daryl's classes. All got some kind of description written on the back by the person who made the picture or painting.

Not long after you had it all put together your pizza arrived at the front door of your building, telling the guy you were gonna come and pick it up there and leaving Daryl alone in your apartment. He looked around at everything, observing and taking in every little detail from your matching dark furniture to your weird amount of small statues of animals and video game stuff. The dinner table was littered with art supplies that wouldn't fit on your desk anymore, which was full of digital artist items and sketchpads. Without really thinking of it at all he got up and walked towards your desk. It was full of half filled pieces of paper with small sketches on them. It mostly was all in one theme and while some were crossed out or had some negative texts written next to them, others had certain parts circled in colored marker with details written next to them that probably all made sense when put together. He of course had no idea what that put together something would be, but he was sure it would be really cool. On the table behind him were all kinds of paints and large papers filled with colors and mixes, something like what he learned in your class last week, but then huge and way more detailed than the small thing you two made in a two-hour class that was mostly the teacher explaining stuff instead of actually working. He mostly just followed your lead that day and still had no clue what he did but you seemed to be proud of what he did and that was all that mattered. It was weird how just looking at some colors on paper made him think about memories with you that made his heart flutter inside his chest. There was no way he was gonna tell you that, though. Not until he was sure you felt the same way, not that you ever would feel the same about a guy like him.

Back in the hallway you walked towards your apartment, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your mind. Having dinner with Daryl was just a normal classmates thing to do after finishing a project, nothing to be worried about. Except maybe accidentally spilling your drink. Or eating weird. Choking on a crumb or maybe just air. Would he be grossed out if you talked with your mouth full? What the hell, all those thoughts were so stupid you didn't even know how your head came up with them. You were just normally gonna eat your takeout pizza like you always do and everything would be fine. You made it back to your door in one piece and balanced the pizza in one hand while you fiddled with your keys in the other, opening the door and walking in. Daryl had been so intrigued by your artwork that he hadn't noticed you come in and set the pizza on the coffee table. "Food's here." You stated, watching Daryl snap out of his gaze. "Aight, cool." He stuttered on his way back to tho couch. To say he felt embarrassed being caught staring at your personal work was an understatement. He felt like he had accidentally invaded your privacy and had no idea how to tell you. But then again you didn't seem angry or anything so was it really as bad as he thought. You noticed him not really paying attention to the food first thing after sitting down and wondered what went on in his head. Maybe you weren't the only one nervous about having dinner together? While you already did have coffee at the diner while you worked earlier this week, so this wasn't even that new. Of course you were still nervous because that was just who you were.

The thoughts quickly left when you were both eating and enjoying the food a lot. "What place was this? Gotta get this at work sometime." Daryl commented after grabbing a second piece while putting the last bits of his first slice in his mouth. You told him the name of the place and where it was located. Daryl knew the street it was located on but never really paid much attention to the shops that occupied it. He did pass the place multiple times a week on his way to work and he was sure to pay more attention to it from now on. The two of you ate mostly in silence beside the occasional comment about pizzas or the suggestion of a drink refill. Only when there were only two slices left that were now in the both of yours hands, you started talking more. The conversations went from favorite foods to your hobbies outside of your study, tv shows you liked to watch or places you'd ever want to visit. Before the two of you had realised it, it had gotten dark outside already. You only realised when Daryl wanted to go outside for another cigarette. That one cigarette quickly turned into a Shit it's this late already?! goodbye smoke in front of your apartment building, with a promise to see each other again in the morning on Daryl's usual parking spot at school before your last day of the introduction week.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd #twd x reader #twd imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead x reader #twd daryl #imagine #x reader #twd fanfiction #fanfic #sometimes I write

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hatsukeii · 3 years

Text

【２３：１４】

The heavy bass line rings through your headphones as you scribble furiously onto the thin piece of loose leaf paper on your desk, a skinny desk lamp illuminating your workspace. Your strokes are slow and steady, cautious not to mess up your page of perfectly organised notes. When it ends up looking worse than before after your fifteen minutes of pure concentration and effort, you throw your pen down, letting it roll away sadly as you bury your face into your palms. It’s been a tough day, truly. School’s been rough on you lately, with the realisation that both your science teachers are absolute trash, as well as the pileup of assignments and assessments due in a week or two. Maybe if they were able to teach for once in their measly little teaching journey, you wouldn’t be up at eleven on a school night desperately trying to understand the overload of information that was the entire immune system and all its mechanisms shoved onto your plate during class, of which they made no effort to explain or talk about. No, you can’t put all the blame on them, considering there’s a bigger contributor to your insomnia.

Writing notes is just an escape, an excuse to avoid having to think of anything else, to shut the outside world out and live in your little comfort bubble. When the dumb hormones and intrusive thoughts and fantasies manage to get into your head even while you’re at peak concentration, there has to be a bigger problem within. There are three categories of “bigger problems.” Number one would be your period, the time of joy for every single woman isn’t it? Everything is amplified when you’re on your period. Emotions, feelings, pain, everything. That combined with the agonizingly painful cramps are enough to make you feel like burning everything to the ground in frustration. Number two would be an earworm, bonus points if it lasts for more than two months. Stupid earworms, forcing you to play the same two songs on repeat for hours on end while you study. You can’t hold yourself back and sing along to verses and in no time you’re dancing along and having a full on concert at your desk and suddenly the thought of studying for that test you have in two weeks or doing that project that’s due tomorrow but you procrastinated on and left to do today slips out of your mind. Number three, also the most troublesome and irritating, is a person. Someone that you just cannot for the life of you get out of your mind. Someone so interesting and intriguing that you can’t help but desire to learn more about them. What their interests are, what their favourite music is, how they let out rage, their mannerisms, anything, everything. Today, you’ve got a mix of everything amped up to the max.

You let this one particular Heat Waves remix play again for what happens to be about the thirteenth time within the past two hours, slamming your head onto the table once the lyrics start. “Sometimes all I think about is you.” You say along the singular line, letting your eyes flutter shut. Man if only that line doesn’t apply to your current situation, that would be greatly appreciated. It’s so stupid. This is so stupid. Everything is crumbling down again like skyscrapers during an earthquake, shattering into pieces when it hits the concrete ground beneath them, all because you were too weak to not fall for someone. It’s dumb, ridiculous, and you hate it. You let your eyes open again, adjusting to the warm light of your desk. Scrolling through the comments, there’s a common pattern. “It’s always we need to talk, but never yntbkshycryn” You shouldn’t have gotten curious and tried to find out what it meant, because now you can’t stop fantasising about how euphoric it’ll be with Tsukishima’s hands around your neck and you on your tiptoes as your lips meet and he kisses you so hard that you can’t remember your name.

Edit 1: bet you didn’t see this coming did you

Ps. Hey you found me! :D Now never return please<3 (heart is for added effect)

#tsukishima kei #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabble #anime #haikyuu scenarios #tsukishima imagines #drabble #I legit posted this so my friend could attempt to find my blog and HE FUCKING FOUND IT I’m gonna cry

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letterboxd · 3 years

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Savage Cinema.

From anarchists and adultery to milk baths and massacres, Matthew Turner shares five of the weirdest and wildest highlights of Hollywood’s pre-Code era, as #PreCodeApril comes to a close.

Pre-Code April was directly inspired by Noirvember, a month-long celebration of noir cinema instigated by Marya Gates (Oldfilmsflicker). I did Noirvember for the first time in November 2019, really enjoyed it, and thought it would be great to do the same thing for pre-Code movies. Although I’ve watched most of the classic 1930s films, I realised there were a huge number of pre-Code films I’d never seen (of my Letterboxd list of over 900 Pre-Code films, I have only seen 200).

As a sucker for a bit of wordplay, no matter how tenuous, I picked April partly because it’s six months away from Noirvember and partly because of the shared “pr” sound in April and Pre-Code. I’ve been absolutely delighted by the response—the #PreCodeApril hashtag on Twitter is a daily treasure trove of pre-Code-related joy, but I was genuinely thrilled to see the response on Letterboxd (here is my watchlist for the month). It’s been a real pleasure to see pre-Code movies constantly popping up in my ‘new from friends’ feed. My hope is that it’ll be even bigger next year—and that maybe TCM will want to get involved, the way they do with Noirvember.

Produced between 1929 and 1934, pre-Code cinema refers to films made in a brief period between the silent era, and Hollywood beginning to enforce the Motion Picture Production Code censorship guidelines (mandatory enforcement came in from July 1934). The “Code” in question was popularly known as the Hays Code, after then MPPDA president Will H. Hays. As the depression set in and box office declined, theater owners needed fare that would drive cinema-goers to the movies. It was a wild time to be a scriptwriter; they threw everything at the page, designers added even more, and actors played out the kinds of scenes, from the suggestive to the overt, that would otherwise be banned for decades to come.

The following five films demonstrate some of Hollywood’s craziest pre-Code excesses. They’re still jaw-dropping, even by today’s standards, and notably give female characters an agency that would be later denied as the Christian morals of the Code overruled writers’ kinks.

Madam Satan (1930) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Elsie Janis, Jeanie Macpherson and Gladys Unger

A critical and commercial flop in 1930, Cecil B. DeMille’s utterly insane musical comedy stars Kay Johnson as a straight-laced wife who plots to win back her unfaithful husband (Reginald Denny) by seducing him at a costume party, disguised as a mysterious devil woman. The location of this party? Oh, nothing too fancy, just on board a giant zeppelin. (“Madam Satan or: How the Film gets Fucking Crazy on the Blimp,” as Ryan reviewed it.)

Madam Satan is not by any stretch of the imagination a good movie (the editing alone is laughably bad), but as a piece of pre-Code craziness, it really has to be seen to be believed. Co-written by a trio of women and set in just three locations, it goes from racy bedroom farce to avant-garde musical to full-on disaster movie after a bolt of lightning hits the blimp.

The film is justly celebrated (in camp classic circles, at least) for the wildly over-the-top costumes paraded in the masquerade ball sequence, but there’s weird outfit joy everywhere you look. Keep an eye out for an enterprising extra who’s come dressed as a set of triplets.

Call Her Savage (1932) Directed by John Francis Dillon, written by Tiffany Thayer and Edwin J. Burke

Adapted from a salacious novel by Tiffany Thayer, Call Her Savage was former silent star Clara Bow’s second-to-last film before her retirement at the age of 28. She plays Texas gal Nasa Springer, who’s always had a “savage” temper she can’t explain. In the space of 88 minutes she goes from wild teenager to jilted newlywed to young mother to prostitute to wealthy society girl to alcoholic before finally (it’s implied) settling down with her Native-American friend after discovering that she’s half-Native-American, something the audience has known all along.

Bow’s performance is frankly astonishing, to the point where you simply can’t believe what you’re seeing from one moment to the next. Sample scenes see her savagely whipping both a snake and her Indian friend, smashing a guitar over a musician’s head and violently wrestling her Great Dane… and that’s all in the first five minutes. She’s also frequently in a state of near undress throughout—one funny scene has her maids chasing her with a dressing gown because they’re afraid she’ll run down the street in her négligée.

The rest of the film includes alcohol, adultery, strong violence, attempted rape, murder, syphilis (not named, but heavily implied) and baby death. It’s a veritable smorgasbord of outrageous content and Bow is pure dynamite throughout. The film is also noted for being one of the first on-screen portrayals of homosexuality, when Nasa visits a gay bar in the Village frequented by “wild poets and anarchists”.

Smarty (1934) Directed by Robert Florey, written by Carl Erickson and F. Hugh Herbert

This deeply problematic sex comedy features pre-Code stars Joan Blondell and Warren William (often nicknamed ‘The King of Pre-Code’) at their absolute filthiest. Blondell plays Vicki, a capricious, happily married wife who gets an obvious kick out of taunting her husband, Tony (William). When he cracks and slaps her at a party, she divorces him and marries her lawyer, Vernon (Edward Everett Horton), whom she also goads into slapping her in a deliberate ploy to win back Tony.

Essentially, Smarty hinges on Vicki liking rough sex and it’s completely blatant about it, ending with her sighing “Hit me again” (the film’s UK title!) as they sink into a clinch on a couch, a rapturous expression on her face. It’s a controversial film because on the surface it looks like it’s condoning domestic violence, but it’s very clearly about Vicki’s openly expressed sexual desires—she wants to be punished and dominated, she just has a rather dodgy way of getting what she wants.

It might be unsophisticated, but in some ways Smarty is remarkably ahead of its time and ripe for rediscovery. To that end, it would make a fascinating double bill with Stephen Shainberg’s Secretary (2002). Oh, and it’s also chock-full of lingerie scenes (like most pre-Code films), if you like that sort of thing.

Massacre (1934) Directed by Alan Crosland, written by Sheridan Gibney, Ralph Block and Robert Gessner

Several pre-Code films (notably those made by Warner Bros) took a no-punches-pulled approach to their depiction of social issues, and star Richard Barthelmess actively sought out such projects. Here he plays Joe Thunderhorse, a Native American who’s become famous on the rodeo circuit. When he returns to his tribe to bury his father, he ends up fighting for their rights, taking on corrupt government officials and religious authorities.

Massacre is fascinating because on the one hand it’s wildly insensitive—Barthelmess and co-star Ann Dvorak are both cast as Native Americans—but on the other, it burns with a righteous fury and does more than any other Hollywood film (before or since) to champion the rights and highlight the injustices dealt out to Native Americans. That fury is encapsulated in a horrifying and rightly upsetting rape scene (it happens off-screen, but the cuts leave you in no doubt) that the film handles with surprising sensitivity.

In addition to being a passionate fight against racism and social injustice, the film also has some genuinely shocking sexual content. Most notably, Joe is seen making love to a rich white woman (Claire Dodd, who’s also in Smarty) who has an obvious sexual fetish, flaunting him in front of her friends and making a shrine in her room with Native-American paraphernalia.

The Sign of the Cross (1932) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Waldemar Young and Sidney Buchman

Yes, this is Cecil B. DeMille again, but no list of weird and wild pre-Code films would be complete without the jaw-dropping ancient Rome epic, The Sign of the Cross. Adapted from an 1895 play by Wilson Barrett, it stars Frederic March as Marcus Superbus (stop sniggering at the back there), who’s torn between his loyalty to Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) and his love for a Christian woman (Elissa Landi), while also fending off the advances of the Emperor’s wife, Poppaea (Claudette Colbert).

The film is racy enough in its sexual content alone: highlights include the famous scene of Claudette Colbert taking a nude milk bath and an erotic “lesbian” dance sequence, where Joyzelle Joyner’s “most wicked and talented woman in Rome” does ‘The Dance of the Naked Moon’ at Frederic March’s orgy, trying to tempt Landi’s virtuous Christian, to the obvious arousal of the gathered guests.

However, it’s the climactic gladiatorial-arena sequence that will leave your jaw on the floor. Lasting around twelve minutes, it includes: someone getting eaten by a tiger, a tied-up, naked women being approached by hungry crocodiles, pygmies getting chopped up by female barbarians, elephants stomping on heads, a gorilla approaching a naked woman tied to a stake, a man getting gored by a bull, and gladiators fighting to the death, complete with blood and gory injury detail.

The whole thing is genuinely horrifying, even for 2021. Best of all, DeMille pointedly critiques the audience (ourselves included), by showing a series of reaction shots ranging from intense enjoyment to abject seen-it-all-before boredom.

Matthew Turner (FilmFan1971) is a critic, author, podcaster and lifelong film fanatic. His favorite film is ‘Vertigo’. The films in this article are also listed here: Five of the Pre-Code Era’s Most Outrageous Films.

#preCodeApril #pre code april #precode april #hays code #mppa code #cecil b demille #clara bow #matthew turner #letterboxd #1930s films #1920s films #depression films

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stygianflood · 3 years

Text

Star to Every Wandering Bark (Ethan x F!MC)

Hi everyone! I’m here with my very first fanfic. I’m really nervous about posting this, and have been changing my mind every hour. But I suppose I’ll just do it. I would like to thank Ruby (@starrystarrytrouble) for her encouragement and appreciation, and also for prereading this.

Summary: Set somewhere in the time jump in 2.18. Ethan surprises Aparna by asking her to add her name beside his own, on paper.

Also my submission for Choices January Challenge 2021 day 30 prompt, “Hope”

Words, rating- 1.2k, Teen

Genre- Fluff, with minor angst at the beginning

Open Heart Fanfic Trope- And they were Soulmates

Disclaimer- Characters belong to Pixelberry.

We need to talk. How about tomorrow, at my place?

Aparna had been pacing the locker-room for the best part of an hour, ruminating the full import of that text. And knowing Ethan, she had an inkling what it was about. She now wondered if she should have asked for more.

With the recent exigencies at the hospital, even when they managed to be at his place, sleep overtook them the moment they hit the bed. And there was the added business of life after Edenbrook, an issue Ethan was skilfully eluding for some time now.

Between going through the prospects and the plummeting vacancies in other hospitals, and wondering if she had completely misconstrued Ethan’s view of their relationship, Aparna was amazed she still retained her sanity.

When Marlene informed her that Mrs. Watson had responded to the antihistamines and was finally sleeping, Aparna knew she was only playing for time.

Ethan had been checking the time every fifteen minutes over the last couple of hours. She must be miffed at his non-responses this week. And then there was the other matter he was planning. But just as he was about to call her, the buzzer and then Jenner’s excited barks broke into his reverie.

‘Hey.’

Her smile was weary, the circles under her eyes darker. A few unruly strands had escaped her messy plait. And Ethan had never settled his eyes on a more calming sight.

But today he saw something else.

Could it be caution?

When she returned his embrace with a one-armed hug, and almost deflected the kiss, he wondered if it was only because she was tired, and Jenner, a little too distracting.

‘Why don’t you freshen up first?’ He asked as Aparna and his dog completely divested themselves of his presence.

She scratched behind Jenner’s ear one last time before answering, ‘I think I would prefer the talk.”

‘Of course.’ Ethan gestured towards the couch as he pondered over the wine rack. ‘I’ll just get the wine.

His motions were untroubled, leisurely.

‘Ethan, I don’t have time for this.’ Aparna replied through gritted teeth.

‘But,’ Ethan flinched, perplexed. ‘You said you’re free.’

‘Not free enough to break up over your fancy wine.’ she snapped, turning away to face the dusk that smeared on his windows.

A fraction of a second passed before Ethan gathered his completely disarrayed thoughts.

‘What the… Have you lost it, Apu?’

He walked down to her, wary but resolved. And almost as a reflex, his hand caressed her arm. It was their dance. Choreographed and familiar. And when she did not object, he dipped his chin on her shoulder.

‘Come on…’ Ethan whispered into her hair, and though she avoided his gaze, she did not refuse. He took that as a sign to steer her to the couch.

‘I thought we’d discuss our prospects after Edenbrook. Among... other things.’ Ethan tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and sighed.

Aparna looked up. Timid and sheepish.

‘And you aren’t breaking up with me? Or leaving the continent?’ She asked, her ears reddening by the second.

‘Seriously, where’s this coming from?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Aparna mumbled, before quickly defending herself. ‘But Ethan, you don’t just tell people you need to TALK... Ugh! I need a shower.’

After a hot shower and voracious gulping of pizza, Aparna found herself looking at Ethan in his element. She had seen him dressed to the nines, and in other more private occasions. But she knew her favourite version of him was the one before her, speaking of the future of medicine, and in no uncertain terms, her future in it. He finished with the fundamentals of the hospitals she had chosen, and turned to face her.

‘Of course, I’ll follow you after you’ve made your decision.’ Ethan laced their fingers, before continuing, ‘That is to say, if you want me to.’

‘I have my reasons for avoiding this at work.’ Ethan put down his glass and edged closer before continuing. ‘I know we aren’t hiding anymore. But I stand by what I said. Your professional development is far too important. And I won’t tolerate people saying you were matched to a programme because I had anything to do with it.

‘That.’ Ethan smirked before sweeping her into his arms. ‘And food.’

The steady thrum of his pulse beat a tattoo on her forearm as she stared at him.

Ardent and doe-eyed.

Reminiscent of Miami.

Hope was treacherous and liberating, she realised.

And for the first time since they had known each other, Aparna was at a loss for words. But when she closed her lips on his, she hoped he would know.

A few more glasses later, they were sprawled on his couch, Jenner snuggling close to Aparna.

‘They might suggest one of their research assistants.’ Ethan continued, hoping she would take the hint. ‘But I already have-’

Purple remnants of the day lingered on the window panes, and the dimmed lights cast a strange, dreamlike aura on the living room.

‘I meant to ask you something else,’ Ethan ventured with trepidation in his voice. ‘My book is getting a second edition. John Hopkins and Novartis had rudimentary talks of sponsoring the research that’ll go into updating the data.

‘Ethan, are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

‘Yes.’ He grinned. ‘And legally, you’d be the second author.’

‘But… But I’m just a second year resident!’ She was back on her feet.

‘With experience on my team, and the first authorship of a paper on phage therapy.’ He said as though it was self explanatory.

And it’d be our first co-authored book, he told himself.

Ethan sat with bated breath as his eyes followed her nervous pacing across the living room.

Absentmindedly, or perhaps drawn by some intuition, Aparna reached for Ethan’s copy of Diagnostic Principles, and ran her hand across the title page.

Her thoughts were muddled by her younger self furiously scribbling along the margins of his book, every whirlwind circumstance that had brought her to this beautiful man, and the inebriating realisation that her own name could accompany his, on the same plush paper.

And in that moment, Aparna knew something had changed. Irrevocably. She was no longer the only one fighting for their future.

‘I must be mad to agree to this. But… Yes, Ethan.’

And she was as certain as the day she chose medicine, her first utterance in a lore she had composed for a decade.

Ethan felt before he knew he had walked across to her. Pressing his forehead to hers, he caressed her cheek. And with a surge of pride, he realised he had long wed his life’s vision to the woman he had held in his arms in Miami.

And you have only detoured in vain ever since.

And he kissed Aparna as he had never kissed her before, soaking in the honeysuckle of her hair, the wine on her tongue. Fervent. Ravenous. And then slow, and delicate, until they were both out of breath.

They stood teetering on the spot, drunk on each other, Jenner staring at their antics. And a warm glimmer doused the scene, and curled itself about Dr. Ramsey’s minimalist living room.

Thank you so much for reading this!

Title inspiration-

Tag list:

@starrystarrytrouble @potionsprefect @schnitzelbutterfingers @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Prompts tag list:

@choicesjanuarychallenge2021 @lucy-268

Let me know if you want to be added.

#choices open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #choices january challenge 2021 #fics of the week

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procrastination-queenie · 3 years

Text

Anchor ⚓|| JHS

Pairing: Husband!au Hoseok x Wife!au reader.

Word count: 1k +

Warning: slight angst, brief mention of sex, very slight smut. Super fluffy.

Synopsis: As an artist, Hoseok came to understand that in order to appreciate art, you have to focus on the little details, and that was no different when it came to your relationship because it's a piece of art in itself. Or Hoseok reminisces on his favourite moments with you.

A/N: Edit is taken from the application Nichi, I only added a few stuff.

If you're interested to read something similar to this work for Hoseok, click here.💛

When they asked Hoseok how you both made it so far, he was at loss for words that could describe the magnitude of love, care, understanding, sacrifices, communication and patience that your relationship held. His brain displaying vivid images, a video of your memories spent together from the moment you met till the present day. No matter how he tried to conjure up words that describe the feelings he felt, he would never do it justice.

Your soft lips planted small kisses all over his face in a silent urge to wake him up. He smiled at the feeling of your lips that you made sure to moisturise before you went to bed. His head turned lazily to capture said soft lips in an idle good morning kiss that; even though it was nothing special, yet it took his breath away. The look in your eyes every morning with the sun rays accentuating your warm eye colour made him get lost in a non-existent dreamy world of fluffy clouds and cosy feelings bubbling inside his chest. He pulled you into his arms, basking in the warm silence of the morning before you both had to get up and begin your day.

Hoseok loved how you preserved your innocence in a harsh world. You were not some kind of angel, but your insistence to teach yourself to be patient and to learn to always see the good in the bad amazed him, and he slowly found himself infected by your persistence to become a better person because as you always told him: "nobody's perfect, Hobi, but we can always aspire to become whatever is near perfect," He found himself agreeing with you; however you were the only exception. To him, you are perfect.

The child-like behaviour that took over you when you were surrounded by kids never failed to draw a big fat smile on his lips. After running around, chasing your little cousin in an attempt to try and catch him, you settled on one of the bean bags next to Hoseok as your little cousin settled in the one in front of you. His small body lied on the big bean bag, small feet kicking at your knee, eyes looking at you with mischief from underneath his heavy lashes as he suddenly burst into childish babbles, making you chuckle and start to imitate him. The action made your other cousin, his sister who was only older than him by two years, join in with your babbling. Hoseok looked at you in admiration; he felt lucky to experience such private and sweet little moments with you. That night before you departed from your family's house, your baby cousin was sound asleep in your arms, a scene that made Hoseok's heart full as his eyes engraved the memory in the back of his mind. Something that like any other couple you both dreamed of and that is to start your own family...someday.

Apologizing was never an issue to you, seeing that you grew up owning your mistakes and taking responsibility whenever it was your fault. "I am sorry," you whispered kneeling in front of Hoseok looking right into his eyes. Sincerity evident in your glistening eyes, you set your hands on his knees as you waited for his reply. Sometimes he wondered how your ego never stood in the way of you apologising. "I am sorry. I promise I won't do it again," you apologised again for the discomfort that you've caused your husband. Hoseok sighed as he hugged you in a tight embrace, he could never stay mad at you, never. "It's okay Jagiya," he kept saying, rubbing your back in soothing circles to calm your silent sobs. "I am sorry,"

"I know, Jagiya. It's okay,"

Being intimate nowadays to some young couples like you represented nothing but wild, crazy, sex. You realised how it became a non-existent competition between whose husband or boyfriend made his partner feel better whenever you hang out with your friends. When it came to you and Hoseok, you vowed to never share such intimate details; it was something about the both of you that did not concern anybody else. You both also agreed to cherish those moments like how you both held hands when you both reached your peak. Your wedding ring glistening in the soft glow of the soft light that engulfed you both, catching Hoseok's eyes, reminding him that you were his and he was yours. He adored the way your lips met his in a desperate kiss, silently telling him how much you love him. Your muffled moans, like a rare good piece of music to his ears. The way you circle your arms over his shoulders pulling him close for a few seconds before the two of you pulled apart from the heaving and sweaty embrace. This was a world of your own that no one has the right to invade its borders. Exclusive only for both of you to enjoy and experience.

Communication was also the main contributor to your relationship. Hoseok remembers during Jimin's wedding when he made a toast saying "Hobi hyung and y/n are like role models to me. The way they loved and doted on each other isn't like anything I have ever seen before." Hoseok took your hand in his, lightly squeezing it. I love you, you turned your head smiling softly at him, your smile saying I love you, too back. Your eyes searched his face with a look of adoration before you pecked his lips and settled your head on his shoulder. Jimin was right; the boys rarely witnessed any of you raising your voice in anger towards the other, instead, you would both try and talk to each other. The fact that you were aware that communication is an important element to any relationship made you stand against so many hardships that could've broken you up. "So, here's to Hobi hyung and y/n for being my favourite couple of all time," Jimin said raising his glass, making his wedding attendees burst in laughter and awes.

Life wasn't always easy on the both of you, just as there were ups, there were downs as well; nevertheless, you remained stronger than ever with each others' embrace, not just physically but also mentally. Hoseok sighed as you pulled him into your chest, tears escaping down his face. Your warm embrace was enough to put his fast heartbeats in sync with your steady ones. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to, you just pulled him into your arms ready to stand and fight against what was bothering him. Hoseok also didn't need anything else other than the reassurance of you being there for him. "Do you want to talk about it, baby?" You whispered softly, running your finger through his chestnut hair. Shaking his head, he put his head into your neck, body entangled with yours in a beautiful mess on your sofa. "I just want you to keep on holding me," he answered back. You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. If that's what he needs then that's what you're giving him. I am right here, love you tried to put your thoughts into action by rubbing his back and running your fingers through his hair now and then. He placed a small kiss on your neck as a silent thank you.

One of the things that you loved about your relationship was sharing what you both loved to do together.

You sat between Hoseok's spread legs, his arms circling you in a tight embrace as you read a book that held a small collection of poems that you really liked. Hoseok kept on slowly placing passionate kisses along your face starting with the side of your forehead, your cheek, your jaw, till he reached your neck and nibbled lightly on your skin. "Hobi!" You whined turning to look at him. " What, love," he smiled at your pout, "please, focus," you said trying to sound serious as you turned your attention to the poem that you were reading. "Baby, I am focused," he said continuing with his distractions making you giggle as you turned your whole body into his embrace, circling your hands around his neck with the poetry book still in your grasp. He felt the cold pages that flowed with art slightly touching the back of his neck. You looked all over his face before leaning in, kissing him, softly biting his bottom lip as you slowly released it. A playful gaze underneath your lashes was displayed to him as soon as you opened your eyes. You pecked his lips one last time before turning in your original position with a smirk on your pretty features. "Focus," you said again continuing with your reading, leaving Hoseok in a complete daze. He chuckled, before pulling you closely and nestling his head beside yours as his eyes scanned the poem you were reading.

"Y/n!" Hoseok whined as you yet again made a wrong step making you both stumble and fall on the floor of the dance studio. Lately, you've been wanting to try learning tango. Something which made Hoseok not hesitate for a second and jump immediately at the chance of dragging you to his safe haven, the dance studio. You laughed at your failed attempt with Hoseok hovering over you shaking his head with a smile on his face. "I am sorry, turns out it's not as easy as it looks," you said calming down from your laughter. "Baby, it is easy you just need to pay attention," he said pulling you up with him. "Come on. Let's try again," Not a few minutes later Hoseok whined your name, again, as he pulled back from your laughing figure, pulling slightly at his hair in frustration. Your laugh echoing throughout the studio put a small smile on his face as he shook his head. "Baby, no don't be frustrated," you whined playfully running towards him, jumping to wrap your legs around him. Hoseok holding you by your thighs while your hands rested on his shoulders. He laughed at your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere as you sensed his failure to help you learn a few moves. He looked up at you, chuckling when he was faced by your excited gaze and your small smile that he knew would burst any moment into a big one any second now. You leaned in to give him a kiss to encourage him which he reciprocated with so much love. Pulling back you push yourself off him, "let's try again. I promise I'll get it right this time," you said pecking his jaw. He nodded, his eyes no longer held frustration, but determination mixed with adoration to help you learn. That's how it always has been with you and Hoseok.

Shaking his head slightly to come out of his bubble, he looked at the interviewer still incapable of describing your relationship. Maybe someday when you both grow old together, he would consider writing a book to try and convey his feelings for you because by then you both would have learned more about each other and experienced every dimension of the other. So, for now, he was satisfied with his short answer which he knew that only you and he understood that it held so much more than the simplicity of it, "I don't know, I guess that's what love does, right?" He said smiling into the camera...

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Hold Me Close – Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 1.1k (to be edited)

Genre: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, established relationship, idol!AU

Rating: GP (general public)

Hello gingerbread folks! I’m just stopping by to dedicate this small thingie to @nervous-moon, who needed some Yoongi fluff tonight.

I’m re-editing this small drabble and adding an audio track (that you can find here - OUT SOON). The plot is very basic: Kitten is studying for a masterclass, staying up too late and taking poor care of herself. Yoongi, devoted and worried, tries to make sure she doesn’t overwork herself. As he realises she’s not in bed yet, he goes looking for her and the two have a late night heart to heart.

I really felt like writing something relieving and comforting, so here I am.

It’s pure fluff. A tiny bit of angst, but a reasonable amount. Just lots of cuddles.

-------------------------------------------

You looked at the clock.

3.17 am.

You pushed yourself through one more chapter.

Just one more, you told yourself, staring at the pages on your laptop. You drank some more water to keep yourself from yawning.

In the last few months you had been taking extra classes that explored the latest innovations in terms of copyright and authorship, focusing especially on online contents and music platforms.

Yoongi had encouraged you into doing so, supporting you through the whole process, including he selections, the studying, and the fact that you were still working while taking the classes.

He was basically a substitute parent, making sure that you slept a reasonable amount of hours, that you had proper breakfast, that you kept yourself hydrated and that you took your vitamins and your sleeping pills. He had a hawk eye, always spotting small details like when you left food in your lunch box, when you went too long without taking a shower and when the black circles under your eyes became too deep. Sometimes he noticed you rubbing your eyes as they were too dry from all the hours spent at the computer screen, which always made him magically appear like a fairy, pushing your chin back and helping you put eyedrops on your burning irises.

That night, you were so caught up in your handbook, Tchaikovsky playing in your earbuds, that you didn’t notice the soft sound of Yoongi’s feet padding towards you.

You jerked around as soon as you felt his fingertip poking your shoulder.

He took off your earbud. “It’s three a.m., Kitten, for god’s sake.” He murmured with his gravelly voice,

You bit your lip nervously before justifying yourself. “I just wanted to finish this chapter.”

He exhaled in disappointment. “Three a.m. Stop saying ‘just one more chapter’.” He cupped your cheek as he scolded you fondly.

“Tomorrow is Sunday. I’m cramming so I can sleep in and spend some time with you.” You explained, wrapping your hand around his wrist.

“Okay.” He said, sitting on the sofa, beside you, laying down on his side and placing his joined hands between his knees, his head on your lap.

You simply moved your laptop aside as you kept reading, your hand naturally diving into his hair and carding the locks. You changed your background music to Chopin’s Nocturnes and lowered the volume, slipping one earbud into his ear.

His face nuzzled against your belly while your hand moved down, rubbing his back. You kept your writing hand free, just to scribble down some notes as you read the penultimate paragraph. You had to read it again.

You were reaching your breaking point, your head so full that you could barely stuff anything more in there.

Distractedly, your hand climbed up, towards Yoongi’s neck, cupping his jaw while your thumb drew small circles on his cheekbone, his eyelids fluttering once you stopped to focus on writing the keywords to the last paragraph.

You didn’t think there was anything worth noticing. With tiredness weaving through every fiber of your being, you closed your notebook and pushed your laptop close, being as quiet as possible. Yoongi wrapped his arms around your waist as you bend forward, placing your supplies on the coffee table.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.” He murmured quietly while his fingertips moved under your shirt and traced the outline of your lower vertebrae.

Your eyes closed at the sensation. So warm. So tender. So familiar.

“We’ve received the new schedule today.” He said, while your palm slipped to his tummy, rubbing small circles on the fluffy fleece of his pyjamas shirt. You let your fingers slide under the hem of the garment, meeting the warm, smooth skin underneath and the endearing softness of his tummy.

“I won’t be home for our first anniversary.” He said, opening his eyes and looking up at you.

“Japan, again?” You asked gently, trying to be as understanding as possible.

“New York.” He replied, huffing out a loud breath. “Two weeks.”

“Then, we’ll celebrate once you’re back. It’s not a big deal.” You concluded, moving your hand back to his shoulders, placing your thumb and forefinger on the tendons at the base of his nape and pressing down with the right amount of pressure, massaging Yoongi’s tense neck.

“Sometimes I ask myself what would happen if I had children.” He mused, joining your free hand with his, his thumb drawing gentle lines on your palm. “Would I be there the moment my woman is giving birth to our child? Or would I be on the other side of the world, too far to hold her hand, to touch her face as she goes through that kind of pain, to move her hair away from her face?”

Your hand moved to his forehead while he rolled on his back, looking at you. “Would I be able to hear her curse me, snarl at me, saying she’s not ever letting me close to her, just to forgive me as soon as she has our child in her arms?” Yoongi moved your joined hands to his lips, kissing one knuckle at a time.

“Would I be able to run the tip of my pinkie along all of my baby’s features, just to see what is mine and what is their mother’s?” He wondered quietly.

You barely held back a sob.

You had never wanted babies, but you were already seeing yourself in a hospital room, a white, soft bundle in your arms and Yoongi sitting at your side, completely charmed by the tiny human you were holding on your chest, feeding with your own breast.

“No matter where you will be, I’m sure you’ll be an excellent partner, and an excellent father.” You replied, rubbing his belly and caressing his face, catching a fugitive tear with your thumb, drawing his delicate features with the tip of your fingers.

His lovely button nose, and the fairylike arch that connected it with his brow. His eyebrows, his hairline. His barely-there cheekbones, and the bitable plumpness of his cheeks. His cupid bow. The minuscule mole beside his nose. His subtle eyelashes. The shape of his cute, elvish ears.

He yawned and you felt him relax completely. “We should go to bed, kitty cat.” You told him.

He nodded, but stayed still.

It took you a bit to convince him, but finally he stood up and walked to the bedroom while you switched off the lights in the living room, following him shortly after.

Once in the bedroom, you slipped under the covers, thanking the universe that you had already done your nightly routine and you were ready for bed.

Yoongi offered you his back and you spooned him, one of your arms venturing under his sleeping shirt, the other sliding under his head, pillowing it while your fingers toyed with his chocolate locks.

His hand joined yours on his belly, capturing your fingers with his. “I love you, Kitten. You already are the perfect partner.” He said, before yawning.

“I love you too, Yoongles.”

#yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi cuddles #min yoongi #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi angst

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tsubaki3192 · 4 years

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250+ Followers HC! Artist!MC Draws a Portrait of Nobunaga, Ieyasu, Kenshin, Mitsuhide

Requested by: @puffpuff300

Note: Thank you so much! Haha this sounds like so much fun… So here we go!

Haha… Not all of these are portraits or are they drawn, but…

Edit: I’m so sorry it took so long! But now I think I’m back in business!

Please let me know if you’d like to be (un)tagged!

--------------------------------------------

Nobunaga:

Honestly? You just loved the way the paint seems to splatter itself on the page.

No, before I properly begin, you don’t necessarily do traditional painting. You like the abstract ones. Like Piccasso… but not quite his style xD

Piccasso’s style… Would confused the shit out of NObunaga if you drew him in that style- I swear if you don’t paint him like that at least once, I’ll smack you xD

Anyway, your paints are precious to you. You know that Nobunaga might be able to get some oil paints for you, but acrylic paint has always seemed to be better for you. That, and you’ve gotten used to it.

On the night you arrive at Honnoji, you’re carrying your art satchel, filled with paint, a couple of canvases, and your beloved brushes. You were in Japan to paint some of the blooming cherry blossoms and scenery at the time.

Dragged into this mess of a Princess and chatelaine duties made you miss painting so badly. Even picking up a calligraphy brush reminded you of the calligraphy-brush style paintings you had been studying before you had arrived.

So you grab the a4-sized canvas and wander the hallways for days, as you search for the best thing to draw. Honestly? You’ve had to white the canvas multiple times simply because nothing seemed right.

That sakura tree in the corner of the castle gardens? Nope.

The bustling streets of Azuchi town in the middle of the day? Hm...

The Ghost of Mitsuhide, smirking wildly as he wanders down the hallways? Not that either.

Not even the pretty Mitsunari seemed to capture your attention for long.

Ironically though, you didn’t even think of paining the lord of the castle at first, perhaps because his ego didn’t need to be brushed up further?

At the end of the day, you’ve decided to retire to your room, having wasted the whole day wandering the town and castle, listlessly, tirelessly and unsuccessfully seeking the perfect scene to paint.

Weirdly enough, just after dinner, you somehow end up outside the tenshu, peering through the gap the raven-haired lord left in the doorway.

What a sight, though, to see Nobunaga hard at work, that frown finally focused on something other than yourself. You’re suddenly filled with inspiration, and you set down opposite the gap, sketching the outline of exactly what you’re seeing: the gap between the doorway, and Nobunaga seated at his desk.

You know he can see you: You’ve spotted that all-knowing smirk of his. But he doesn’t speak or move until you begin to leave, having finally marked out the correct colours in pencil.

“Fireball, you may enter the room if you wish-?”

Unsurprisingly, you had jolted at the sound of his voice and bolted from the opening of his door, leaving a baffled Nobunaga staring at your empty postion.

2 days later, you leave the completed painting on his desk, covered by a square of leftover fabric you had used to make the kimono you wore that day.

He unveils it curiously, only because you didn’t leave a note of any kind.

Honestly? He just kinda stares at it- curiously- since the painting seemed even more realistic than the ones circling at that time.

And he just laughs, leaving it hanging against the wall beside the Kimono you had made for him.

Mitsuhide:

Okay… So catching this one somewhere paintable is simply impossible. Believe yourself- You’ve tried.

In fact the only reason why you’re trying to paint Mitsuhide is: 1. You don’t have a camera, and 2, He’s just so ethereally beautiful and 3. He’s never lingered in somewhere pretty or ‘nice’ enough for a sufficient amount of time to even sketch him.

As for Mitsuhide, he, without a doubt, is teasing you. He’s seen the paint tubes you brought with you on that night you had first arrived in the Sengoku Era, and he’s seen that sketchbook- or rather paint-book- of yours, filled with random practice paintings of flowers you’ve spotted in the Azuchi gardens-

or Kyubei, which you had admittedly sketched multiple times. Why were both Lord and Vassal so pretty?

and has figured out their uses after stealing a blank page from your book and a couple of paint tubes.

You’ve found that same torn page tucked within the pile of paperwork when he requested your assistance once.

It was kinda cute too: fingerprints and finger painting galore xD

You’ve also spotted paint residues of blue beneath his fingernails, much to your amusement.

Anyway… So you’ve been trying to paint an image of Mitsuhide with a parasol beneath a willow tree for awhile now… And it’s to the point where you’re tempted to just use your imagination bc he’s simply not letting you.

But you just snap at him, one day, after having had a VERY bad day. And he just… relents, standing statue-still despite you still grumbling beneath your breath with every glance towards him.

You stuff Kyubae into the image too bc he deserves to be immortalised in a painting with his lord….

It takes a week, on top of all your other duties, to complete the painting, and if that’s not the best painting you’ve ever painted, you’d be lying to yourself.

Honestly, even though he’s curious and teasing about it, Mitsuhide only finds out once you’ve completed the painting. Yes, he could’ve seen the painting at any time, but a part of him wanted to keep that as a reward for all his hard work.

He makes that adorable blushy pout when he later realises he simply could’ve asked you to see the painting: Kyubei’s seen it before he has.

You leave the painting on his desk under all the paperwork there is, knowing full well that his curiousity would get the better of him and he’d stop working-

It works, but only at the expense of your blush from his tease when he finds you in the kitchen with Masamune, rewarding yourself with Mochi.

He’s secretly proud of it, and it’s the only one he’ll willingly hang in his room.

Ieyasu:

Ehhhh…. This one’s kinda easy, okay?

So you’ve always wanted to paint Ieyasu with Wasabi. It’s been on your agenda ever since you first caught him playing with the baby deer 3 nights after your arrival in Sengoku Japan.

The only thing is, you’ll have to resort to using Traditional watercolour techniques, since you: 1. Had no paints on you, and 2, canvases didn’t exist back then. You could try to make one, but you swore it wouldn’t turn out as good as the store-bought ones.

So you do paint it. From your memory, and from whatever scenery you could draw from the Azuchi garden.

It’s pretty funny, actually: You know most of the Azuchi warlords are aware of what you’re up to. And by that, you mean all but Ieyasu, who claimed he couldn’t care less, and Mitsunari, that oblivious genius.

Nobunaga and Mitsuhide knows because they’ve been watching you, and Masamune and Ranmaru only knows because Hideyoshi found out.

Long story short, you’ve been neglecting yourself: forgetting meals and overall becoming a Mitsunari 2.0…. Hence the whole “Hideyoshi” thing.

Honestly, it’s a surprise the receiver of the painting doesn’t know. Usually Ieyasu would be the type to scold you with harsh words before you even get to painting him.

But not this time.

Actually, you’re certain he’s been avoiding you. For what reason? Who knows. But painting from memory was always a good mental exercise….

Ieyasu does find out eventually, but that’s simply because you purposely drag him out to the garden where you’ve hung the painted scene on a branch to allow it to dry.

He just sort of stands there surprised, before averting his gaze.

“This is what you’ve been doing the entire time?”

You don’t blame him for the blunt question since you rushed off to the location at any given time to continue the painting, pretty much neglecting anything but your sleep, chores and-

Honestly, being that tsundere-contrarian he is, he flicks you on the forehead while muttering a quiet “It’s good” with averted eyes.

You honestly should never have grinned that widely at his words, bc now he’s walking off while blushing… and taking the painting with him :3

Kenshin:

You know better than to go behind Kenshin’s back. And by that, you mean “Oh-god-he’s-etherally-beautiful-but-also-a-yandere-so-I-must-gain-permission-to-paint-him-otherwise-he-might-kill-me-help”.

But honestly, it takes you awhile, simply because you’re not sure how to approach him- He’s always given you that sensation of “don’t-touch-me” xD

If it weren’t for Sasuke, who you had known for years, given you went to the same university and assisted him with some artist renditions of the night sky, you honestly would never have had the courage.

The question comes off as awkward. Very much so, since you had been, well, stalking him for days on end before he calls you out and you reply to him, nervously stuttering in response.

Kenshin doesn’t disagree with your request, however, choosing to just call for you whenever he suddenly feels bored.

It’s honestly chaotic and stressful, since he keeps changing position every few minutes…. ^-^’’

In the end you enlist the help of Shingen, who was only willing to pose for you so he could stare at your expression~ xD

The rest of the time you spend painting is holed up in your room, which, by the way, confuses Kenshin since usually artists would force him to sit agonising hours of stillness just to capture his appearance.

So he goes looking for you.

It’s at a pretty ironic time too, considering you were just adding the finishing touches to the painting. Just some background colouring and details….

But Kenshin’s hovering over your shoulder and-

He compliments you with some VERY sugary words, while you’re wrapped up in his arms. Honestly it puts Shingen’s flirting to shame xD

You’re warm, but to be fair you’ve left him pretty much unattended for the past week thanks to your want to paint.

Just cross your fingers he never asks you how exactly you managed to accurately paint the position he, in the painting, sat in.

Shingen would most certainly die from spending hours with Kenshin’s princess and love of his life-

Tagging: @tsukiiiyo @unstoppablelinda @zavannahmj @nad-zeta @thesirenwashere @ikemenoliver @jiyuu-chan @nuttytani <3

#Ikemen Sengoku #My Writing #250+ Followers Celebration #Sorry for the wait everyone!#I'm back in business!#Watch out for a Cat!MC Ikevamp HC too :3

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