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peirates · 4 years

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‘Did the Romans and ancient Greeks ... ?’

Google autocomplete is a gem and a curse. Inspired by @todayintokyo’s post on questions about Japan, I thought I’d have a look at what people are asking about Rome and classical Greece and, wow...

Christmas holidays leave a lot of time for milling around, so I’ll answer them in case anyone’s interested. (Please forgive me if any of this is incorrect/incoherent, it’s nearly 11pm as I’m writing this lol)

Did the Romans speak Latin?

Yes, Latin was Rome’s (and the Roman Empire’s) official language! Of course, many Romans or foreigners in Rome spoke other languages for the sake of communication, trade and education - Greek was particularly popular among the nobility - but Latin was what they all had in common.

Did the Romans invade Scotland?

Long story short, no. They tried, failed, and built Hadrian’s Wall to keep the ‘barbarian’ Gaels out - southern Britain was already too cold and muddy for the temperate Romans, not much point in losing more lives over more mud.

(Hadrian’s Wall was what inspired Game of Thrones’ The Wall, as confirmed by G.R.R. Martin himself, but Hadrian’s was nowhere near as high, thick or long.)

Did the Romans have glass?

Absolutely! In fact, their skill with it was much more artistic and masterful than the average glassmaker today, just search ‘roman glassware’ here on Tumblr or on Google images to see what I mean.

Did the Romans invent concrete?

Yep! It’s famed for its durability, which is due to its contents of volcanic ash (Pompeii flashbacks), lime and seawater. The seawater reacted with the ash over time to give it its strength and anti-cracking nature.

In fact, the Roman method was so effective that it lasts for far longer than modern concrete (modernity/Westernisation =/= progression, it seems) and scientists today are trying to find ways to revitalise it.

Did the Romans eat pizza? / Did the Romans eat pasta?

Sadly not, only later Italians did. Their empire deserved to crumble for not inventing either smh.

Did the Romans invade Britain? / Did the Romans invade England?

They did indeed in AD 43 under Emperor Claudius, and they only began to withdraw in the late 300s when the city of Rome was being threatened by a Germanic tribe called the Visigoths.

Did the Romans invade Ireland?

No. Even now, archaeologists have no idea to what extent they communicated or even knew of each other.

Did the Romans celebrate Christmas?

Emperor Constantine only began converting the empire to Christianity from AD 313 (they had been pagan previously), and the earliest evidence we have of Romans celebrating Christmas was in 336 AD, very late in Roman history. Throughout most of Roman history, therefore, no they did not celebrate Christmas.

(They did have a festival which was similarly important and similarly timed (mid-December) called the Saturnalia. It also involved communal partying, gift exchanges and a general spirit of liberty (e.g. slaves could order around and punish their masters) - it was one of the most anticipated festivals of the Roman calendar. However, the purpose was very different: it was to worship the pagan god Saturn, the father of god-king Jupiter and the previous ruler of the world before its occupation by humanity. Namely, the festival marked a return to the ancient ‘Golden Age’ in which nature was dominant, peaceful and uncorrupted.)

Did ancient Greece have emperors? / Did ancient Greece have kings?

No emperors, traditionally Greece was comprised of city-states ruled by kings (or theoretically by the dēmos, the people, if you were Athens). Under Roman occupation it did answer to Rome’s leaders (consuls, then later emperors), but the idea of emperors was much more late-Roman than Greek.

Did ancient Greece celebrate Christmas?

Nope. It was originally pagan and did not celebrate any Christian holidays until a) it was conquered by Rome b) Rome later converted to Christianity, thus enforcing it on the rest of the empire. However, this conversion point was so long after the ‘heroic’ and ‘classical’ periods of Greece that by the time it did become mostly Christian, it was no longer ‘ancient Greece’ in the same sense.

Did ancient Greece have electricity?

Y’all are asking the real questions out here, that’s for sure lmao.

Nope, electricity wasn’t used anywhere as a power source until Thomas Edison’s studies about two thousand years later.

God though, a good ol’ GPS would have saved Odysseus a lot of trouble.

Did ancient Greece and Rome overlap?

Oh, nelly...

Greece predated Rome by at nearly a thousand years, but Greece’s and Rome’s histories together lasted for centuries, even before the latter conquered the former. It’s why they are studied together as one field of academia. Many Italian settlements were in fact Greek colonies. Classical Greek helped shape Latin. Much of Roman religion was inspired by that of the Greeks. Many Greeks could speak Latin and many Romans could speak Greek. Roman art, philosophy and architecture was particularly fascinated by that which was Greek - to put it in meme format, the crab is Roman culture and the crocodile is Greek culture. And these are just the absolute basics, entire tomes have been written on Greece’s and Rome’s somewhat symbiotic relationship.

TLDR hell yes they did.

Did ancient Greece have a flag? / Did ancient Greece have a constitution?

Nah. Although history often refers to Greece as one country, one culture, it was more a collection of independent city-states with their own identities and constitutions.

They all had three things in common: religion (+ the moral/social codes which came along with it), language, and (in most cases) enemies from abroad - therefore in later centuries, as well as their city-based nationalities, they did all call themselves the Hellenes. If you were a fellow Hellenic, you’d be able to work and live in other Greek cities with less trouble than if you were to try, say, in a ‘barbarian’ land such as Persia. Greeks were civilised; everyone else was an uncultured brute. Hence, their sense of unity was more from fear of the outside, from xenophobia, than from internal harmony.

Because of this, there was never an altogether complete sense of assimilation. Different cities had distinct dialects, favoured different gods/cults within the wider Pantheon, often warred against each other (especially Athens and Sparta, whew), fed their own specific cultures and law-sets and reputations. Nationality and citizenship in that age were not really about country or region, the world was just too small for that. You wouldn’t say ‘Hi I’m Phoebe and I’m Greek’, you’d say ‘Hi I’m Phoebe and I’m from the city of Halicarnassus.’ The closest analogy I can really think of is the cities in the dystopian series, Mortal Engines.

So no, they didn’t have a single flag or constitution. There was just not enough unity between them all.

Did ancient Greece trade?

Initially I was going to wave this off as a silly question because ‘hurr durr everyone trades’ but ACTUALLY.

Along with the rest of the eastern Mediterranean, Greece had its own Dark Ages between the fall of its early society (aka Mycenaean Greece) and the rise of Homeric-style poetry and culture, i.e. between the 1100s and 700s BC. Communication in general was absolutely awful: there were no great armies, no great cultural progressions, and yes, no substantial trade. The fact that Greece was then feeling down in the dumps also discouraged foreign trade.

It took the bard Homer’s influence to get people to start thinking, creating, travelling and thus mass-trading again - this sudden surge in activity eventually led to Greece’s Classical Period, i.e. 4th century BC, you’ll probably imagine gleaming Athenian pillars. Increased thinking and culture led to increased politics/nationalism, increased p/n led to increased warring and military action, increased warring improved transport and communication, and WHOOSH suddenly trade took off.

So basically, Mycenaean Greek trade was good (as far as we can tell), Dark Ages Greek trade was shocking, Classical Greek trade was quite literally revolutionary.

Did ancient Greece have lions?

Yep! However, they weren’t like the sub-Saharan lions you’re probably imagining right now - those are Panthera leo, but the Eurasian lions that would have been in Greece were Panthera spelaea.

Nevertheless there were indeed lions and they played a huge role in Greek mythology and literature. The Nemean Lion was the first of Hercules’ Twelve Labours; Homer, the trendsetting legendary lad that he was, created a trope of comparing something innocent and vulnerable to something vicious and savage and desperate by using the analogy of a lamb and a hungry lion.

Did ancient Greece have a democracy?

Nope, only one city named Athens did. Don’t get me wrong, it was at the time and still is a big deal considering it hadn’t been done before, BUT there are three important things to note:

It was ONLY Athens which had a democracy - every other Greek city kept their kingships.

The Athenian democracy wasn’t what we’d call democracy. Only free, Athenian-on-both-sides men could vote and participate in local politics - this left out all slaves, all women (even if they were Athenian), and all foreigners or residents of foreign descent (no longer how long you and your family had lived in and worked in and contributed to the city and community).

It wasn’t foolproof considering it eventually got overthrown by power-seeking tyrants.

i.e. a part of ancient Greece had a democracy.

#classics #tagammemnon #classicsblr #rome #ancient rome #latin #ancient greece #classical greek #greece #[#classics: history #classics: language #|#did the romans and ancient greeks #google autocomplete #]

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infiniteshawn · 5 years

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No Place I’d Rather Be

a/n: 5.3k oneshot. here’s the deal

i was approached a couple of months ago to write a fic for someone’s birthday, as a gift. as a result, this piece is very specific to that person. i changed the names and moved it into second person, but it’s not what i typically post--i’m just posting it because i’m sure you guys would like to read it anyway. it’s not very detailed because as it was written for a real person, i didn’t want to invade their head like that. the smut is very glossed-over. but i put a lot of time into this, so here’s something super random!! enjoy!!

“Nervous?”

Shawn looked up from his own hands, fiddling with the feather-shaped ring adorning his middle finger. He took a deep breath.

“Nerves mean you care,” he answered with his classic line and a tight-lipped grin, nodding as he spoke. Cez huffed at him, wondering how on earth someone could maintain such composure at all times. Especially in the middle of headlining a sold-out world tour.

Shawn’s gaze travelled out the window of the Uber, absorbing everything he could about the city he was in. That’s the thing about touring, he thought to himself. While you see the world, you really don’t.

He was sure San Diego was beautiful, but it was hard to get a good look at the buildings because the sidewalks were completely lined with people. Fans of his, in particular. A mass amount of bodies crowded the entrance to Pechanga Arena, waiting patiently for the doors to open.

Shawn’s chocolate eyes scanned the herd of people as the car rolled along, clearly not fast enough for Cez’s liking.

Something caught his eye. He wasn’t sure if it was her long black hair or pearly white smile, but Shawn craned his neck quickly enough to give himself whiplash.

“Wait, ca-,” he paused as his right hand tapped at the window frantically, “Can we turn around?”

“Shawn, we’re already late,” Cez pressed, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at Shawn’s sudden outburst.

“No, bu-“

“Shawn,” he spoke sternly. There was no getting out of this.

“Alright,” Shawn breathed, sinking back into his seat. Whoever she was, she was fucking gorgeous. And she was there to see him. He could only hope to find her inside.

And hope he did. Shawn carried on with the rushed soundcheck followed by his Q&A session, analyzing the face of every fan looking back at him in a meek attempt to see her again. His heart raced and his features perked up as every dark-haired girl walked in for her meet and greet, only to once again be discouraged when he felt absolutely nothing.

The team knew something was up, failing to mention it in fear of Shawn being on the brink of a nervous episode. In reality, the reason he wasn’t all there was due to his desperate search to find her.

_______________________

Shawn bounced on his toes, shaking out his arms as Eddie played the opening notes of Lost In Japan. The stage was dark as Shawn crept out, making the most of the twenty-one seconds he had to scan the crowd, praying to his lucky stars that his eyes might fall on her. His heart sank as he knew it was time to focus, to play the damn show because that was why people were there and that was why he was there. That was why she was there.

With a deep breath and a toothy grin, Shawn straightened out his shoulders and took the mic into his hand.

“San Diego how you feelin’?” escaped his lips as his hopes were crushed, accepting his fate. Sixteen-thousand pairs of eyes stared back at him, and he wondered which one of them belonged to her.

_______________________

“Fucking finally!” you exclaimed, finally ejecting yourself from the confines of Pearson International. Your best friend, Alex, trailed after you, wheeling her suitcase in the direction of the arrivals pickup.

Navigating airports wasn’t always easy. Especially in foreign cities under a time-crunch and being completely engulfed by the looming excitement of Shawn’s upcoming stadium show, which happened to be the next day.

The air was warmer than you’d expected and your surroundings were greyer than anyone would have liked to admit, but somehow, some way, Toronto was still beautiful. Except the airport wasn’t even in Toronto. They could see it, way off in the distance, but Brampton, Ontario, definitely was not Toronto.

You were pulled from her thoughts when a black Chevrolet Equinox pulled over in front of you, popping the hatch for your luggage.

“Your chariot awaits,” Alex giggled, nudging you in the side as she loaded your suitcases into the spacious trunk.

The Uber merged onto the 427 and made its way southward, barreling toward the city faster than your fragile heart could handle. The Toronto skyline was glowing at the sun set, the glint of the CN Tower proving hard to look at as the city you so badly longed to be in grew more and more in your reach.

A blaring car horn startled you, causing you to snap your head around at the source. The Uber was merging again, onto another highway, and had unfortunately just cut someone off.

You craned your neck in search of a sign, spotting “Gardiner Expressway” in gigantic letters attached to a light post. The crashing waves of Lake Ontario were to your right as the Uber took the exit reading “Lake Shore,” you and Alex exchanging a look of pure joy.

Holy shit, these buildings are huge, you thought to yourself as the Uber rolled slowly through the thick traffic of the downtown core. The Rogers Centre was a massive white dome from another plane of existence, and stationed just behind it was the CN Tower, standing taller than either of you had ever envisioned.

Then the Uber took an aggressive left on Spadina and all the buildings looked the same and within minutes the vehicle was pulling over, announcing that you’d arrived.

“Alright,” you giggled, wheeling your luggage into the lobby of the apartment complex. It seemed modern and posh, and thankfully, right in the middle of everything. Alex retrieved the key from the front desk and you tapped your toes anxiously against the floor, watching the little screen as the elevator climbed all the way to the fifteenth level.

The apartment was nice. Faced the east, providing a great view of the near skyline, and the bedroom was on the north wall. You looked out the window with fascination, watching as a green GO train chugged along on the tracks below.

“Hungry?” Alex called, pulling you from your thoughts. “Sorry, but all I can think about right now is food.”

______________________

Night came and went, leaving you giddy with excitement, staring at your own reflection, satisfied with what you saw. The show was in a few hours and it would be your second time seeing Shawn on this tour, and you couldn’t have been more ecstatic.

The Rogers Centre. The special guests. The extended show. The massive crowd. You knew it was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and it was all happening to you right here, right now.

You wondered what Shawn was doing, what he was thinking about. If he was nervous—hell, how nervous he was.

_______________________

Shawn’s drive to the Rogers Centre was a quick one. That’s new, he thought to himself. His phone had been blowing up all morning, text messages from distant friends and family rolling in like clockwork. It was a big fucking deal.

Shawn was busy thinking about her. Playing a show for 55,000 people had Shawn all in his head—what didn’t?—and he found tranquility in thoughts of what could have been. He wondered if he should tweet something. Or relocate to San Diego for a while and maybe hang out at a Walmart. She was bound to pass by at some point.

But no. It had been two months—two whole months—since he’d seen her. He didn’t know why he as so drawn to her, so captivated by her. But he felt something that day. There was no doubt about it. And he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try and find her.

Today wasn’t the day, though. He was about to play the biggest show of his career, and if he was being honest with himself, he was freaking the fuck out. He breathed in. Her. He breathed out. Her. He was calm.

“Gates six or ten,” Alex read off the e-ticket, causing you to whip your head around in search of some sort of fucking sign. For such a big building, one would think it would be at least labeled.

The CN Tower quite literally towered over you as the two of you followed a mob of people to the doors, holding hands in fear of losing each other in the crowd. You thought back to lining up outside of the arena in San Diego and laughed to yourself. This was nothing like that.

“Six it is,” you spoke, nodding to the circular sign above the doors everyone was crowding around. The group was buzzing with murmurs of where everyone was sitting, many “you’re lucky”’s exchanged whenever someone revealed that they were in an “A” section. Alex shot you a tight-lipped grin, both of you thinking the same thing: we’re in A4.

The sun was low and 7:30 was quickly approaching, the anticipation building as everyone prepared for the doors to open.

“These seats are incredible,” you thought aloud, settling next to the aisle with your vodka cran.

“Yeah, you’ll finally be able to see the sweat dripping down his neck,” Alex quipped, earning a nudge in the ribs from you.

Shawn, on the other hand, was not so easygoing.

He was freaking the fuck out.

Backstage was chaos, everyone trying to get sorted at the last-minute. All the people Shawn loved were under the same roof, but still, he wasn’t at peace. He considered he’d probably retreat to his ancient calming tactics, focusing on one audience member and freaking them out with a lot of eye contact. It worked every time.

Your stomach twirled as you got to your feet. The lights were low, the bass was rumbling, and something was about to happen. You felt as if you might burst.

Shawn’s stomach twirled as he stood at the side of the stage. The lights were low, the bass was rumbling, and he was about to step out there. He was ready to burst.

And just like that, he kicked off the biggest show of his career. Lost In Japan went harder than ever and he was over the moon, singing to and with fifty five thousand people who loved him endlessly.

______________________

He took a deep breath. It was mid-show, he hadn’t introduced the special guests, and he jumped down from the stage and held his arms out to touch people’s hands as security escorted him to the b-stage, where a grand piano waited patiently.

“Holy shit, he’s right there!” Alex screamed in your ear, her senses overwhelmed by her emotions. Shawn spoke a few words that you didn’t quite catch as he sat down on the bench, the chords to Life of the Party causing the crowd to erupt. You were positive that you weren’t alone in trying not to cry.

A few songs later and he was wrapping up the segment, performing an elongated version of a fan favourite: Ruin. The band was on the main stage and Shawn stood alone, absolutely nailing the guitar solo. Accomplished, he looked up from his guitar, bidding sweat away from his eyes. He blinked. And then he blinked again. No fucking way.

He missed his cue and messed up the song a bit, but he wasn’t too worried. Squinting into the audience as the spotlight illuminated the sections surrounding him, he was sure of it. It was her.

“Is he okay?” Alex wondered out loud, her voice insignificant in your ear. You weren’t listening.

He was looking at you. You turned your head around, wondering what the big deal was, to find thousands of people, too, looking at you.

Shawn knew this couldn’t last long. He was being obvious.

He wrapped up the song, hardly peeling his eyes from you because how could he? Like, seriously. What were the fucking odds?

Shawn ran back to the main stage and just like that, he was gone. You checked your phone. 9:30. There was no way it was over.

Shawn dove off the stage, frantically searching for Andrew.

“The hell was that?” Andrew asked sternly, finally locating Shawn.

“Listen, that girl? Not the middle section, two over to my right? Dark hair, on the aisle,” Shawn panted, everyone around him staring at him in confusion. “Look.”

Shawn pulled Andrew to the edge of the stage where he couldn’t be seen very well, pointing directly at her spot.

“The girl from the San Diego show, she’s here.”

“That’s her?” Andrew questioned, “how the fuck did you see her?”

“Lucky? I don’t know,” Shawn spoke quickly, “but I need someone to go get her. I need to talk to her.”

“Shawn we can’t jus-“

“See you after!” he called with a grin, stepping back onto the stage to introduce the one and only Taylor Swift.

You were baffled. Wondering if you’d done something wrong, confused as to why the Shawn Mendes was looking at you as if you had two heads.

There wasn’t much you could do. Yes, Shawn kept looking. Staring, really. But you had no choice but to smile back and enjoy the show, oddly confident and confused and insecure all at once.

Taylor left and Ed came out, the crowd absolutely losing their minds. Shawn was at his peak happiness, a little anxious about what would happen later but very, very in the zone.

You were having the time of your life, too. You could sense the show coming to an end as he played the opening notes of In My Blood, giving it his absolute all for every single person who made it to the concert.

Shawn thanked the crowd endlessly. He waved goodbye. The lights came on and everyone started filing out, but you were intercepted.

A massive man in a black hoodie stopped you in your tracks, and you soon recognized him to be Jake, Shawn’s security guard. You took a deep breath.

“I’m with Shawn,” he spoke, flashing you a backstage pass, “would you mind coming with me for a few minutes? Your friend is welcome to join.”

You turned to look at Alex, who was already raising a brow. If you hadn’t recognized Jake you’d be suspicious, but this seemed legitimate.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, agreeing to follow Jake to the side of the stage and eventually around the back, down a long hallway, and to the dressing rooms.

“He’s just winding down for a minute with his team,” Jake spoke, opening the door to a furnished dressing room. “Are you okay to wait in here for a bit?”

You looked over at Alex, who gave you an understanding nod. Of course you were okay to wait a bit.

Jake left quietly and you were too jittery to sit on the plush sofa. Alex, on the other hand, plunked down like a sack of potatoes.

“How are you calm right now?” you asked frantically, chewing your nail.

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen,” she chuckled, “clearly Shawn’s got something to say to you.”

That did not help. Your hands were shaking and you were pacing, soon locating a mirror and making sure you looked okay. Of course this was when the door burst open.

You turned toward the sudden commotion, face-to-face with a very sweaty, very flushed Shawn Mendes.

Silence.

You bit your lip. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Shawn was the first to speak.

“Hi,” he said quietly, trying his best to suppress a bashful grin.

“Um, hello,” you giggled, holding out your right hand and introducing yourself.

“I’m, uh, I’m Shawn,” he laughed, a chuckle escaping Alex’s lips a few feet away.

“That’s my friend Alex,” you nodded, crossing your arms over your chest.

Shawn shot her a nod, more concerned with you. Why was she here? How did she get here? Where did she come from?

“Oh,” Shawn raised his eyebrows, “you’re probably wondering what you’re doing here.”

You laughed, and he swore his heart skipped a beat. He could listen to that forever.

“This is going to sound really weird, but please, bear with me,” he grinned, taking a step closer. “I recognized you from the San Diego show.”

Your eyebrows lunged into your hairline.

“You’re kidding.”

“Dead serious,” he nodded.

“How’d you see me there?” you asked, unsure of if you should laugh or be worried, “I wasn’t even on the floor.”

“I looked for you,” he twirled his ring around his finger, probably nervous, “I saw you lining up outside, actually. When I was on my way to the venue.”

“Right,” you said quietly, still baffled by all of this.

“I just, I felt like I needed to talk to you?” he explained, his tone uneasy, “There’s something about you, I can’t quite put my finger on it. You’re um, you’re gorgeous.”

Your cheeks burned crimson as your spoke a soft “thank you,” desperately waiting for him to continue.

“I don’t know where I’m really going with this,” he paused, bringing a large hand up to run through his dark curls. “I have to go to this afterparty thing for a little bit, but maybe do you want to meet with me later? We could grab a drink or, or something?”

Was this fucking real? you thought to yourself. Of course. Fuck. Speak. Speak!

“Yeah, I do. That would be really nice,” you played it cool, finally really looking into his eyes. They were beautiful.

“Great. Uh, can I maybe get your number?”

_______________________

Back at the apartment, you were having a royal meltdown.

“I didn’t pack for this!” you called from the bedroom, pulling various pieces of clothing from your luggage to figure out what on earth to wear.

“He remembered you from a different fucking country,” Alex quipped from the doorway, watching as you scrubbed the makeup from your face to reapply it. “I don’t think he’d care if you showed up in a paper bag.”

“Not gonna happen,” you responded, having given up on the attire situation for the time being.

A few blocks over, Shawn was celebrating with his loved ones, over the fucking moon because thanks to some twist of fate, he’d finally found you. The party was set to end soon and you’d be meeting him at a quaint little dive bar just down the street from his house, and the seconds couldn’t have ticked by faster.

“My Uber’s almost here,” you snapped, your long-sleeve shirt halfway over your head. “How do I look?”

“You look gorgeous,” Alex spoke from the couch, giving you a one-over as you put your high-heeled boots on.

“Thank you,” you breathed, slinging your purse over one shoulder. “Alright. I’m off.”

And with that, you were gone. Practically shaking the entire car ride to the address Shawn had texted you, wondering if he was feeling the same.

Shawn stood on the sidewalk beneath the lights strung all over the front patio, his eyes fixed on every car that slowed down in front of him. His nerves were getting the best of him, but he had no choice. This was it. He’d been thinking about you for so long, wondering everything there was to know about you. Holy shit, there she is.

You climbed out of the back seat, thanking the driver and shutting the door behind you. You looked up, your gaze met by that of a tall, handsome, curly-haired young man. His smile reached his eyes.

“Hey!” he grinned, holding out his arm for you to grab. You needed steadying.

“Hi,” you smiled, her heart jumping a bit as he pulled you in for an unexpected hug.

“Shall we go in?”

__________________________

He told you everything. When he saw you, where he saw you, how he felt when he saw you. Everything. And you were absolutely fucked for him.

“That’s insane,” you nodded, sipping your second cocktail. “Like, what are the odds?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” he laughed, finishing off his IPA. “I don’t know. I just, I think you’re gorgeous. And I want to know more about you in the least creepy way possible.”

“I’m not creeped out,” you blushed, your hand finding his thigh in the dim light of the bar. He twitched a bit. You pulled away, embarrassed by your actions, eyeing him apologetically.

“No, no, that’s fine!” Shawn reassured, reaching for your fingers and placing them back on his knee. “I just wasn’t sure you were all that into me, I guess. Now I realize that’s kind of stupid.”

“I mean, I did travel to a whole other country just to see you perform, so,” you chuckled, wiggling your fingers against the denim of his black jeans.

He nodded, flushed. They were acting like teenagers. You eyed his lips. He put his hand on yours and leaned in, brushing your nose with his own. All they could breathe was each other.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, his soft lips turning up at the corners.

“It’s very okay,” you nodded with a smile, closing the space between you to press your mouth against his.

He tasted like mint and honey, warm and cool and sweet all at once. You were itching for more, desperate to have his hands on you when he pulled away, smiling like a goof.

“Um,” he started, giving your hand a squeeze, “do you, maybe, want to get out of here?”

_______________________

“Condo looks nice,” you muttered against his lips, your body pinned against the back of his front door. His lips were everywhere at once, trailing from your lips to your jaw to her neck, begging for mutual attention.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a giggle, carefully holding your face in his hands like you might break. He was afraid he would.

“Wow,” you broke from his lips, craning your neck down the hall. His view of the city was gorgeous and his living room was so cozy, you had to take a minute. “This is really nice. Thank you, for uh, for bringing me here.”

Shawn cleared his throat, joining you in his living room. The wonder in her eyes was electric as you gazed out the window. He was in awe.

“Listen,” he spoke softly, reaching for your hand so you would turn to him, “I didn’t just bring you here to, uh, you know,” he took a deep breath, “I actually like you. A lot. We can do whatever you want, I’d still be over the fucking moon.”

You were the hungry one now. If you weren’t already destroyed by the thought of him, his words had you hooked. Shawn kissed you back, allowing your lips to swallow his gentle mewls as he walked you to his bedroom, trying his best not to fall over.

You didn’t even have time to take in your surroundings, the brute force of Shawn’s body on top of yours as you collapsed on his king-sized bed, knocking the wind out of you. You both broke into a small giggling fit, easing the nerves that seemed to be eating at his stomach from the inside out.

“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispered, fingertips grazing the skin under your shirt.

“More than okay,” you smiled, assisting him in slipping the fabric over her head.

He was blushing more than ever, giddy and elated that this was real life and really happening in real time. Someone controlling the universe and all mystery greater than life itself had his back. He made a note to say thank-you later.

Before his thoughts strayed too far from the woman beneath him, you were kissing his neck, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, reminding him of what really mattered.

Holy fuck, you thought to yourself. You knew he was ripped—had inspected every inch of his body through the screen of your phone. But you didn’t know he looked like this. You swallowed your filthy thoughts with a gulp, your gaze raking over the dips and hills of his muscular torso, wondering what on earth was beneath his jeans.

As if he’d read your mind, he was messing with his belt, finally unclasping it and moving on to the button of his pants.

Your heart was racing.

His heart was racing.

It was happening quickly, but it made sense. You both wanted—needed—this, and it seemed fitting.

You wiggled out of the tight confinement of your jeans, matching his minimal attire of mere undergarments. His flush reached his chest, which was littered in tiny brown hairs, topped off with a dangling silver pendant.

This is real. This is Shawn Mendes. You took a deep breath.

His warm hands were on you, exploring the expanse of your ribs as he kissed you with all he had, teeth and tongue included. He needed you badly, and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

You let out a squeal as he began nipping at your jaw, reminding you of how real this was. Your hands were exploring the divots of his stomach, feeling the softness and warmth of his skin against yours. He felt amazing.

He inhaled sharply, collapsing against you when your fingertips slipped into the waistband of his black boxers. Your hands were where he needed you most, feeling and rubbing and massaging everything he had to offer. He was ecstatic.

“Fuck,” he muttered as you spread the bead of precum he’d released around the head of his cock, prompting him to buck his hips into your hand with great desperation. Shawn wasn’t a selfish man, but he had a hard time focusing on putting his hands in your panties when you were touching him like this. “Wait a sec,” he interrupted, shame washing over your face instantly. You were afraid you’d gone too far.

“I’m never gonna last past your hand,” he breathed, his chocolate eyes pleading with yours as you retracted her fingers from his underwear. “Please, please let me focus on you.”

No protest there. Your panties were off and he was between your thighs before either of you could take a breath, and holy fuck, he knew what he was doing.

His tongue was hot against your core, kissing and licking and lapping at the soft skin like it was his final meal. You squirmed beneath his gigantic arms, pinned to his bed and thankful because there was nowhere in the world you’d rather have been.

“Shawn,” spilled from your lips, a mantra you’d practiced over and over in the comfort of your own bedroom, completely mind-boggled that you were using it for real now. “Fuck,” you reiterated, gasping as he added a finger into the mix, working you to the edge faster than you’d ever experienced.

He was humming against you. Sucking on your clit like a fucking popsicle, grinding his hips into the mattress in preparation to give you all of him. He’d never felt so fucking alive.

Another finger slipped into your heat, Shawn coming up for air to plant some kisses on your inner thighs.

“Gonna come for me?” he groaned against your skin, fucking you roughly with his fingers as you struggled to formulate a sentence. “Need you to fucking come for me.”

His mouth was back on you, exploring you thoroughly and sloppily, leaving you a shaking, shivering, writhing mess. He sucked, you shouted, and you were coming on his hands, clenching around his fingers like if you didn’t, he might not have been real.

Shawn was smiling against your skin, proud of himself and proud to be between your thighs. You were panting, rapidly trying to regenerate because you wanted nothing more than to take all of him as soon as possible—to give him what he needed.

“Shawn, that was amazing,” you muttered with a grin, pulling his face up to meet yours and tasting yourself on his glorious tongue, “Need you.”

He separated himself from your lips, nudging your nose with his own and resting his forehead against yours.

“You’re positive? This is okay?”

“Yes,” you giggled, rolling your hips against his, “please, Shawn. Need you to fucking give it to me.”

He was off you in milliseconds, rummaging in his bedside table for a condom and wiggling out of his boxer-briefs like they were burning his skin. You pushed up on your elbows, watching with a lazy smile as he fumbled with the latex, not-very-gracefully rolling it down his thick shaft and once again turning to face you.

Sculpted by the gods, he stood at the edge of the bed, throbbing cock in his hand. You reached around and unclasped your bra, Shawn unable to peel his eyes from your exposed chest as he crawled up your frame, kissing his way over your torso and up your neck, eventually finding your lips in the dim light of his bedroom.

He breathed in.

“You ready?”

You nodded.

He breathed out. This was it.

“Shit, baby,” he muttered, running his reddish tip along your folds, “you’re soaked.”

“Obviously,” you giggled, recounting the events of only a few minutes prior.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on your lips as he slipped inside of you, groaning at the feeling of your soft walls hugging him so tightly.

The burn was quick, soon subsiding to pleasure as he bottomed out, beginning to carefully move in and out of your core. He was the perfect size—not too big, not too thick, but definitely not small. His shallow thrusts turned into deep rows, pounding into your heat as he lost himself in the pleasure your body provided.

He was moaning into the crook of your neck, sweat pooling in his hairline as he gave you all of him, focusing completely on grazing your walls as deeply as he could.

“Shawn,” you panted, nails digging into his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer, “touch me.”

His fingers found your clit and he sped up, reducing you to a mumbling string of profanities, feeling nothing but ecstasy as he was inside of you, working wonders with his cock and his fingers.

“M’not gonna last much longer,” he warned, trying to slow down in a poor attempt to keep himself from barreling over the edge.

“Harder,” you encouraged, closing your eyes and tugging his curls, lost in the feeling of the drag of his cock as his fingers danced over your sensitivity, bringing on your orgasm more intensely than you knew possible.

“Shit,” he grunted, moaning with you as you clenched around him, your back arching against his mattress as you came together, seeing nothing but stars.

__________________

“Please stay,” he spoke into your hair, hugging you tightly beneath his heavy duvet.

“I can’t, Shawn,” you nuzzled into his chest, “Alex is waiting for me.”

He hummed in protest, groaning as you slipped out from under the covers and began relocating your clothes.

“It’s too cold for you to leave.”

“Shawn, it’s September,” you giggled, tugging your lacy underwear up your thighs. He watched.

“At least let my pay for your Uber.”

“That I can do,” you grinned, slipping your shirt over your head as he unlocked his iPhone and ordered a ride. “Walk me out?”

He got dressed (half, really), and walked you to the elevator, holding your hand so tightly it was almost painful. Neither of you knew why this felt so hard.

“It’s two minutes away,” he whispered, pulling you against his dense frame for a long hug, topping it off with a soft kiss to your swollen lips. “You have my number.”

You nodded, stepping into the elevator, his hand still in yours as long as the doors remained open.

“Catch you next time you’re passing through San Diego, I guess?”

He grinned bashfully, a flush creeping down his neck as the metal doors began to shut.

“I think you’ll be seeing me a lot sooner than that, sweetheart.”

#shawn mendes #imagine shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes sm #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x you #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n

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boreum-dal · 5 years

Text

la confiture, pt. i

fandom: miraculous ladybug (adrinette, nino/alya)

summary: marinette dupain-cheng is one step closer to her dream of becoming a top chef when she’s hired to cook at the famed restaurant, la confiture. but to get to the top, she’s got to surpass adrien agreste, her rival and the son of la confiture’s owner.

too bad he’s so sweet that he’s nearly impossible to dislike.

and too bad she loves when he invites her over after work to test out new dishes at his apartment.

and too bad his relationship with his father makes her want to hold him and never let him go.

and–just like that, her dreams don’t seem so simple anymore.

cross-posted: ao3

Marinette had nearly forgotten about the fruit tarts. When she’d first seen them on the new menu for the week, she’d wondered, somewhat wildly, if Adrien secretly read her blog; after all, he’d introduced that dish into the dessert menu only two days after she’d posted about her fruit tarts. But even given Ladybug Patisserie’s immense popularity, she couldn’t imagine that Adrien Agreste, sous chef at one of the top restaurants in the country, found the time or the energy to read the weekly exploits of someone who couldn’t bake to save her life. It had to be a coincidence.

Adrien grinned, surveying the room. His eyes paused when they met Marinette’s. His head tilted to the side, and his lips quirked up ever so slightly at the corners, as if he were sharing a private joke with her that no one else in the room would understand. For a brief few seconds, Marinette felt the air leave her lungs, and then she blinked and forced herself to turn her attention back to her linguine.

It had to be a coincidence, she thought again to herself. Still, she was suddenly grateful she’d kept herself anonymous on the blog all these months.

la confiture

part i.

“Everything sucks.”

“It does not. You’re so dramatic sometimes.”

Marinette Dupain-Cheng lifted her head from her arms and aimed a glower at her best friend. “Do you have room to talk?”

Alya Césaire shrugged, shuffling mangled, dull looking eclairs that around on Marinette’s counter in a way that would have been quite aesthetically pleasing if the eclairs themselves weren’t so ugly. “I can admit it, at the very least.”

“Fine! I’m dramatic! But why can’t I be dramatic and good at baking?”

“Practice makes perfect,” Alya sang, lifting her camera up to her eye and squinting through the lens at the perfectly arranged, deformed eclairs.

“You’ve told me that a million times before,” Marinette moaned, dragging her feet to the love seat in her living room and flopping down into it. “How about a different proverb?”

“Fine, then. Some people just can’t have everything. How about that?” The camera clicked several times.

“Well, that’s just rude and discouraging.” Marinette blew a strand of hair out of her face.

Alya finally looked up from her camera and laughed. “Why are you so down on yourself, Mari? This kind of stuff is gold! You get tens of thousands of hits on your blog every time you post something new. Being bad at baking is your lifeblood. You should own it.”

“I don’t want to be bad at baking, though! I could be the best cook in Paris, but I can’t expect to ever make sous chef at La Confiture when I can’t even bake a cookie without burning it.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “You really think you can beat Gabriel Agreste’s own son out of the position?”

Marinette pursed her lips grumpily. “I could if I had the baking part down. In a couple of years. Maybe.”

Alya shook her head and resumed taking photos. “I don’t get it. I’d much rather run a successful blog with thousands of followers than be a star chef at some boring restaurant.”

“It’s not just a restaurant, Alya!”

“I know, I know. It’s La Confiture.” Alya made a gagging motion.

“Whatever. You were salivating over that silk pie slice I brought you the other night,” Marinette said, walking back over to the counter and picking up an eclair. She took a bite and had to tug a little at the pastry with her teeth to get it to break. The pastry was rubbery and tough in her mouth, but the cream filling was pleasant, at least. She made a mental note to emphasize that on her upcoming blog post.

Alya grinned. “Didn’t you tell me Adrien Agreste made that pie for the staff?”

Marinette threw the half-eaten eclair at Alya’s face.

---

“You look like you need a drink.”

Adrien Agreste gave a weak laugh. “I was hoping you’d notice without my having to ask. Just a beer, please.”

Nino Lahiffe cracked the lid off of a green bottle and slid it over the bar to Adrien, who took it gratefully and sipped. Nino returned to wiping down the counters, which he’d gotten back to a relatively clean state after dinner service had finally ended. “What’s got you down?”

“Just tired,” Adrien mumbled, sliding the beer bottle between his hands on the lacquered surface of the bar. “You know, the usual.”

Nino frowned at Adrien’s slumped-over form. Adrien straightened up a little—although he knew Nino wasn’t the type to judge, the way his friend peered at him through the round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose made him feel particularly scrutinized.

“Did you fight with your dad again?”

Adrien laughed. “That obvious?” He lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, please.”

“Dude. You know I would never,” Nino said reassuringly. He glanced around before opening his own beer bottle. “Cheers.”

“Seriously, though, how did you know?”

Nino shrugged. “Just a guess. I saw him stalk out of here a few minutes ago with murder in his eyes.”

“Do you think any of the other employees saw?”

“Nah. And if they did, it’s not like their first thought would be that he must have had a fight with you. He’s just like that, so it’s not unexpected.”

Adrien laughed again, this time genuinely. The laugh felt good in his stomach, like a medicine. “Thanks, Nino.”

“Anytime. So what was it about this time?”

Adrien leaned against the back of the barstool with a sigh. “He’s upset about that Vogue interview.”

Nino frowned. “How could he be upset about it? Our reservations got booked into next Christmas after it went to publication.”

Adrien saw the printed interview, the crisp black-and-white portrait of him in his chef’s uniform, arms crossed and an uncertain smile on his face, in his mind’s eye, and wanted to retch. “I didn’t expect them to, but they published that line about me wanting to go back to school one day.”

Nino stared at him for a moment before bursting out incredulously, “That’s it? Where you literally just say, ‘I don’t know, it might be nice to go study astrology or something in another life’ or something like that?”

“Astronomy,” Adrien corrected. “And yeah. He said it doesn’t look good when I don’t say my whole heart is in cooking.”

“You were talking about another life. That was the question! ‘What would you do in another life?’” Nino shook his head and took a swig of his beer. “That man is ridiculous. I could never tell him, because he pays me, but he is ridiculous.”

Adrien smiled weakly. “I know. I get that he wants to pass down the business and that I have certain duties and expectations to fulfill because of that, but… I can’t pretend to understand the extremes to which he’ll go.”

Even though Nino did not respond, Adrien felt his friend’s eyes on him, and he suddenly struck with guilt. “But look, Nino, I mean—I… He’s not wrong. I should’ve been more careful, right? It doesn’t look great if I say that I’d rather do something else. It would’ve looked better if I’d said no matter what reality I’m in, this is what I’d like to be doing, don’t you think?”

Nino looked at him with an expression that Adrien couldn’t and didn’t want to place—a cross between exasperation and pity. “Whatever you say, man.”

---

Adrien dropped his keys on the kitchen counter and immediately undid the top three buttons of his uniform. As he switched on the light, a black cat brushed up against his ankles, nudging its head insistently at his shin until he reached down to pick the cat up.

“Hi, Plagg,” he said, using one finger to scratch affectionately under the cat’s chin. Plagg’s purrs rumbled through Adrien’s chest as he held the cat against himself. “Did you have a long day, too?”

He let Plagg down and turned immediately to the laptop on his island counter, flipping it open and seating himself on one of the stools. When the screen loaded, he pulled up his browser and clicked on the first link he’d saved to his favorites bar. A header that read “Ladybug Patisserie” loaded, and immediately beneath that, the latest post, simply entitled “fruit tarts.”

Adrien felt a stupid grin spread across his face. He’d been hoping for and looking forward to this all evening. Ladybug’s writing describing her baking adventures always read in a sweet and hilarious kind of way that made Adrien feel like he was listening to a favorite song while driving or lying back on a soft mattress after a tough day. Tonight’s entry was no different.

After last week’s disaster with the eclairs, I decided that maybe I was just a little too ambitious about my (hopefully?) burgeoning baking skills. I purposely chose something much easier, by all accounts that the Internet and various cookbooks could provide me: the fruit tart. As one site so aptly states, “Fruit tarts are impressive-looking desserts that are not difficult to make at all.” Perfect! Exactly what I’m looking for! How did they know?

Whoever wrote that post was wrong, because that person has yet to meet me. The fruit tart has four components: the shortcrust, the vanilla cream, the glaze, and the fruit toppings. Please read below to see how I miraculously manage to screw up each and every element of this impressive-looking dessert that everyone in the world but myself is capable of making!

Adrien caught himself chortling loudly as he scrolled through the introductory paragraphs and onto the photos, which showed, in hysterically excellent lighting, Ladybug’s progress as she slowly assembled the elements of the dessert and the spectacular finish: soggy-looking fruit turning to mush over a lumpy vanilla filling that seemed mildly off in color somehow, all in a shortbread crust that had crumbled significantly when she’d removed it from the mold. She hadn’t even gotten to put the glaze on the fruit, as she’d burned it in the pot (also showcased in another well-lit and well-framed photograph).

Adrien laughed delightedly at the conclusion, in which Ladybug lamented her lack of intuition for baking but vowed to be back next Wednesday with something new, as usual. He scrolled back up through the post, trying to identify exactly where she’d gone wrong. Now that he was looking more for technical issues than humor, he could see some glaring problems already. He chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he should mention it to her in the comments. He’d never tried to interact with this faceless heroine who was easily his favorite person on the internet, even if he’d never seen her or met her or knew anything about her, other than that she was a horrible baker with a great sense of humor. But she’d made his day quite a bit brighter, and he thought the least he could do was offer her some simple tips to make this recipe easier next time around. His fingers hovered hesitantly over his keyboard for half a second, and then he began typing in the comments box below the post.

Hi, there, Ladybug. I’m a huge fan of your blog. Baking can feel like a thankless practice, and I admire your ability to keep a sense of humor about it instead of bashing your head into a wall! If you don’t mind, here are a couple of tips from someone who bakes regularly. First, I’m sure you know this already, but it seems like you’re not whisking quickly or often enough when you stir in the egg mixture. Even with a strainer, it’s hard to get a smooth filling without lumps in there if you let the entire bottom of the mixture solidify into cooked egg, which is what I suspect happened. As for the shortcrust, try using a food processor instead of your hands to make the mixture. It might feel less “authentic,” but it’ll get you better results, and no one (except for us) has to know. :)

Adrien paused, wondering if he should leave a name. He thought better of it on the off chance that someone else at La Confiture frequented the blog as well and would call him a know-it-all. His eyes landed on Plagg, who was now fiddling with a toy shaped like a fish that Adrien had bought him two weeks ago.

Thanks as always for your hilarious and uplifting posts. Looking forward to next week’s.

Adrien typed “Chat Noir” into the name box and hit “submit.”

---

Marinette pulled open the double doors of La Confiture with urgency and ran her way through the restaurant toward the kitchen, unraveling her scarf and shrugging off her jacket as she did so. She could already hear the noise of knives hitting cutting boards, pots and pans clanging over the dull roar of numerous conversations overlapping each other as various chefs de partie shouted orders to the commis chefs and porters.

She tried to tamp down her panic. Gabriel Agreste was absolutely unforgiving of tardiness, even when it was for a true emergency; Marinette couldn’t imagine the dressing down she’d receive for being two minutes late just because her doctor’s appointment had run behind. She kicked herself for not just leaving the appointment when she’d first realized she wouldn’t make work in time.

She ran through the kitchen doors and skidded to a stop, scanning it quickly and then breathing a sigh of relief when she did not see Gabriel’s face. Still, Adrien would be responsible for overseeing all the staff when Gabriel was absent, but—

“Ah, Chef Dupain-Cheng. You’ve decided to come in today, after all,” a voice said from beside her, and Marinette jumped so high that she could have touched the ceiling if she’d reached her hand up.

Adrien Agreste chuckled, arms crossed as he came up to her.

“Chef!” Marinette flushed. Even if he wasn’t his father, Marinette didn’t like getting caught being late, particularly by her rival. It made her look lazy and undedicated—the last thing she needed when she wanted to move up the ranks. And she wanted Adrien to consider her as serious competition. “I apologize for arriving late,” she said quickly. “I was at the doctor’s and my appointment ran over the scheduled time—I should have just canceled it—”

“Nonsense,” Adrien said, waving a hand in the air. “No one’s hurting for you arriving a few minutes late. It’ll be our little secret. Just try not to let it happen again when my father is around. He can be pretty scary, as you know. It’s not fun to get yelled at in front of the entire kitchen staff, trust me.”

Marinette stared at him, slack-jawed.

“Everything okay, by the way?”

“H-huh?” Marinette was still too startled by Adrien’s casual response in the face of her tardiness to really process his next question.

“You were at the doctor’s, you said. I hope everything’s okay.”

“Um—oh, yes,” Marinette blurted out. “Just an annual checkup.”

“Oh, good. Well, I’m glad you’re looking after yourself, Chef Dupain-Cheng. Not enough of us do in this profession, which is pretty counterproductive, if you ask me.” Adrien smiled at her.

“I—” Marinette couldn’t muster up a proper response. What was the proper response? She’d never been spoken to with such… humanity by a superior in the kitchen, at least during working hours, before. The proper response, she supposed, was to shut up and get to work. “Thank you, Chef.”

She scurried toward the locker room to hang up her coat and scarf, willing herself to forget about the exchange with Adrien in its entirety. Gabriel had told her upon hiring her that there wasn’t any room for distraction in his kitchen; although he never mentioned anything about those distractions coming from his own son, Marinette suspected that still wouldn’t really constitute a valid defense.

---

Prep time passed in a quick, stressful blur, and Marinette still felt like she was hardly ready when it came time for the staff to eat before dinner service. She’d been quite prepared to skip the staff meal altogether so she could prepare more, but Mylene, the entremetier, had been insistent that she join the rest of the group.

“You’ve got to eat something,” Mylene had urged her, tugging at Marinette’s sleeve. “A chef who passes out in the middle of dinner service won’t be any good. Come on.”

Marinette took the seat next to Mylene in the posterior dining room where the staff ate their meals before service. The air in the room was jovial, with everyone discussing their plans for the upcoming holiday break as they passed large family-style bowls of pasta and salad from person to person.

Mylene reached toward the bowl of seafood linguine in front of them and began to pull some onto Marinette’s plate. “Hurry and eat, you must be starving! You didn’t have breakfast this morning, right?”

Marinette obediently stuffed a forkful of pasta into her mouth. She was grateful for Mylene’s maternal nature; growing up, Alya had always been the one to look out for Marinette when she needed it, and she realized how fortunate she was to find another figure like her at work.

“All right, everyone, could I please have your attention?” Adrien called, standing up from his seat at the opposite end of the table. “I’d like to run back over tonight’s menu for a moment.”

Marinette glanced up from her bowl. Adrien’s profile glowed with a faint gold lining produced by the already-setting Parisian sun streaming through the windows behind him. He began reciting the day’s dishes with a sense of poise and polished confidence beyond his years, and all eyes and ears in the room were on him now with an almost-reverent level of attentiveness.

Not for the first time, Marinette noted silently that somehow, even though he was not nearly as terrifying as his father, Adrien managed to command the respect of the staff in a way that Gabriel Agreste himself could not. Although she tended to keep her distance from Adrien, if Marinette had to guess, she supposed this had something to do with his kindness—how his energy filled the room with warmth, while conversely, the air seemed chillier when Gabriel spoke.

“Next are scallops from the Calvados coast, pan-seared, served with farofa and sweet red pepper chutney. The final dish before we move on to the cheese course will be honey-roasted duck with candied sweet potatoes, black garlic, and lemon…”

Marinette found herself daydreaming, for what had to be the thousandth time, about what it would be like for her to be the one standing up there, reciting a menu that she had gotten to create herself. She suspected it would take her eons to get to Adrien’s level of adeptness in designing the menu and the grace with which he led the crew, which was a little disheartening, given that they were around the same age. Then again, as Alya liked to remind her, Adrien had been trained for this his whole life by one of the top chefs in the world, while Marinette had only begun cooking in university and had risen quite quickly up the ranks since then.

“So you’ve already proven a lot can happen in a few short years!” Alya had told her just a few days ago.

“...and dessert will consist of sugared beignets in a bitter chocolate dipping sauce, and miniature winter fruit tarts topped with pear and persimmon and a grapefruit glaze.”

“Have a great dinner service, everyone. Just think—one more night, and then you get a nice three-day break for the Christmas holiday!”

The room cheered, and Adrien grinned, surveying the room. His eyes paused when they met Marinette’s. His head tilted to the side, and his lips quirked up ever so slightly at the corners, as if he were sharing a private joke with her that no one else in the room would understand. For a brief few seconds, Marinette felt the air leave her lungs, and then she blinked and forced herself to turn her attention back to her linguine.

It had to be a coincidence, she thought again to herself. Still, she was suddenly grateful she’d kept herself anonymous on the blog all these months.

---

“The last customer of the night just left,” Adrien announced to the kitchen. “I couldn’t be happier with how smoothly things went tonight. Thanks to everyone here, we just had our most successful Christmas Eve dinner service in years.”

The kitchen staff cheered and applauded. Kim, the rotisseur, let out a loud whoop from the back. Adrien grinned. “Let’s finish cleaning up and get out of here so we can enjoy our breaks, shall we?”

Spirits high, the staff worked at double its normal speed to finish breaking down and cleaning the kitchen, and before Adrien knew it, workers were walking out the door in twos and threes, calling out cheerful wishes for happy holidays to each other.

Adrien waved goodbye to Nino, and then he glanced over the empty, immaculate kitchen with satisfaction, marveling at how efficient everyone had been today. It was just his luck that things would go this well when his father was traveling to a conference and not even here to see it, but he wouldn’t complain. Four days without Gabriel breathing down his neck, even if it meant spending the holidays without his only family, was a welcome respite from the tremendous pressure weighing him down lately.

He couldn’t wait to just sleep for the next couple of mornings, to stop at a coffee shop and really sit down to enjoy a café au lait, to visit the market with the intent to truly create and not to just to sell, maybe even to try to whip up something new in the comfort of his own kitchen without the specter of his father criticizing him, to—

To do all of this alone.

Adrien untied his apron and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he shuffled into the locker room and sat on the bench lining the wall. Grateful as he was for the break from his father, he deflated a bit realizing how lonely the next few days would be. Besides Chloé, who was in New York City for the holiday with her parents, the rest of the La Confiture staff were really the only other people with whom he interacted on a regular basis. Of course, he’d be the last person they wanted to see on their precious few days away from the restaurant. Even Nino probably needed a break from him, close as they were.

The slamming of a locker door startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng at the far end of the room, shrugging on a dark red pea coat and wrapping a black scarf around her neck.

“Chef Dupain-Cheng,” Adrien said, surprised. He stood up. “I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“Oh!” Marinette jumped and turned around, holding a hand to her chest. Her hat was askew over her hair. She walked over to him. “I didn’t even see you when I walked in here!”

Adrien laughed. “Sorry if I startled you.”

Marinette shook her head. “That’s okay, I should have been paying more attention.” She slipped her hat off of her head and held it in both hands before turning her eyes up at him. She paused, as if pondering her next sentence carefully, but when she spoke again, her question was quite simple. “What about you?”

“Me? What about me?”

Marinette looked around the dim locker room as if the meaning of her question were obvious. “Were you… Were you planning on sticking around longer?”

“Oh—no, I was going to lock up and head out in just a few minutes. Just…” He looked back at the bench. “I just needed a minute to take a breather after today.”

Marinette smiled. “That’s understandable.” She paused again, and then she let out a soft laugh. “There are rumors you sleep in here sometimes. I wondered for a second if I was catching you at bedtime.”

Adrien stared at her, momentarily stunned—it was the first time in the two months Marinette had worked at La Confiture that he’d heard anything unrelated to work, let alone a joke, come out of her mouth when she spoke to him. He burst into delighted laughter. “Is there really? I guess on occasion, it’s not too far from the truth. But I was planning on actually going home tonight, rest assured.”

Marinette’s smile seemed to touch her eyes more now, somehow, and Adrien felt his heart leap to life at the hint of a new friendship. Marinette had seemed so quiet and focused since she’d arrived at La Confiture; he’d accepted within a week of her starting in his kitchen, after a few unsuccessful attempts at casual conversation, that she had bigger things to think about than being friends with him. This was a lovely turn of events.

“Ah—by the way, Chef,” Adrien said, “your work was excellent today. I can’t tell you how many compliments your chutney received, even when the customers didn’t request to see you to tell you personally. You really are a wonderful addition to our kitchen.”

Marinette flushed. “Oh, I—well, thank you,” she murmured, tugging her hat—a black beanie with cat ears and green eyes knitted onto it—back on her head. Adrien bit back a smile when he saw how much the hat reminded him of Plagg. “And thank you for not blowing up when I was late today.”

Adrien shook his head. “No need to thank me. My father and I…” he paused. “We have very different ways of running the kitchen.”

“I think your way works a little better for me,” Marinette muttered, and then her eyes went wide when she realized what she’d said. “I mean—no offense to Chef Agreste, of course—”

Adrien laughed again. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Marinette let out a sigh. “Thanks.” She looked up at him. “Are you—are you walking out now? Would you like me to wait for you to lock up?”

Adrien’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Yes, I’d love that,” he said, and then he blushed when he realized how desperate that sounded. “I—one second, let me just grab my stuff from my locker.”

He rushed off to grab his bag, elation and embarrassment warring with each other in his heart. When he returned and saw Marinette standing in the same spot where he’d left her, looking completely oblivious to his verbal blunder (and ridiculously adorable in that hat), elation won.

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That concludes part one of this story! My plan is for it to be relatively short and sweet—no more than five parts, with each part being around ten pages or so. I hope you guys enjoyed! I love cooking, I love cooking shows, and I worked in a restaurant (although not nearly as nice as the one I’m portraying here) for quite some time, so I have really enjoyed working on this fic. That being said, I took a few liberties that probably need a little bit of explaining.

First, I’m not really sure that one needs to be an excellent baker to become a sous chef at a top restaurant. Here, Gabriel Agreste likes his sous chefs extremely well-rounded, and Marinette can hardly make a loaf of bread without ruining it. The mistakes she made are extremely amateur, so please suspend your disbelief—I unfortunately am not experienced enough in baking to know what kinds of mistakes are more common for people who know their way around the kitchen!

Second, just by way of explanation: Gabriel is the chef de cuisine, or the head chef, of the restaurant. Adrien is the sous chef. Since Adrien is so experienced and good at what he does, Gabriel is in and out and takes on more of a managerial position, but he still commands the kitchen multiple days a week. Marinette has been hired as a saucier, or someone who prepares all the sauces and gravies and sautés the food.

I tried to do a good bit of research about the environment in a top-tier restaurant like this, but of course, I’m likely to get things wrong with the zero experience I have actually having worked in one. If you catch anything that seems blatantly off (minus Marinette’s baking issues), please let me know!

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next: ii

#miraculous ladybug #fanfic #ml fanfic #Adrinette #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #la confiture

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manoharis · 7 years

Text

A Year in Review: Telugu Movies!

You can’t pay me to watch these (aka watch me roast them in 10 words or less)

Dictator - a Bala Krishna movie without animals in the title!

Krishnashtami - wyd Sunil.

Terror - the title aptly describes my feelings about this movie.

Guntur Talkies - lets just not. more like gun-to-ur head after watching this.

Attack - this wins for having a director and actor that Idc about!

Edo Raakam Ado Raakam - edho raakamaina torture.

Thikka - ee cinema choosaka vacchedi adhe

Jaguar - just when you’ve thought twood’s exhausted the possible feline comparisions

I really really dont care: Savitri, Raja Cheyyi Vesthe, Abbayitho Ammayi, Killing Veerappan, Express Raja, Naruda Donoruda, Hyper, Speedunodu, Garam, Nayaki

Nenu Sailaja -I had a lot of expectations for this movie because it was said to be “fresh” but there was really nothing new here. I loved Ram’s look, some of the comedy and most of the songs. Worth a watch but nothing ground-breaking.

Nannaku Prematho - A for effort? I just couldn’t connect to the film because I felt like the emotion was kind of artificial and didn’t really pull me in. I couldn’t get behind a lot of the “logic” in this film. Also there disruptive bgm in every scene which made it really hard to focus on the film.

Soggade Chinni Nayana - I feel like this movie was targeted towards middle aged aunties lol. I love Nagarjuna and Ramya Krishna but there were one too many scenes where I was hiding my face from embarrassment. On the plus side, all the sarees in the movie were gorgeous !

Lacchimdeviki O Lekkundi - messy because of all the back and forth plot twists. Horror comedy is literally my least favorite genre so I didn’t like this.

Seethamma Andalu Ramaya Sutralu - below average; I don’t have much to say about this. If I hadn’t watched it, this would belong in the ‘I really don’t care’ list.

Krishnagadi Veera Prema Gaadha - I think I was drowsy when watching this (not because of the movie) so I honestly don’t remember anything but the beginning portion which was really funny. I need to rewatch this.

Malupu - I always love a good thriller but it could’ve been better. Aadhi Pinnisetty’s voice tho !!

Kshanam - FAVE !!! This was so good! again always down for a good thriller. Super gripping and just the right pace. I loved how in this the love story was relevant to the script. It was very well written, acted, and taken as well in terms of technicalities. I can definitely see it getting awards next year.

Kalyana Vaibhogame - The first half was loud and messy which made me almost stop watching it. With a premise like this, the story is extremely predictable, as in you knew the lead pair would fall in love eventually, it was just a matter of when. I thought the second half was pretty cute though.

Shourya – I know this is biased of me but I can’t remember the last movie of the Manchu brothers that I’ve seen because the kind of movies they make are just so not my type. However, when this movie came out I did hear some positive talk for it on twitter. But then it wasn’t talked about at all after like a week? So I’m not exactly sure how successful it was. I may watch it eventually but I’m not dying to see it lol

Run- This was the remake of Neram by Sundeep Kishan (side note: I really like Sundeep, so I was annoyed that he was doing a remake). I didn’t hear much about this either after the first week so I don’t think it did that well. However, I do want to watch it because I’ve been trying to watch Neram since forever but I could never find it with subtitles so I guess this is my chance to watch it, but a lesser version ofc. Although one of the main reasons I wanted to watch was for Nivin and Nazriya so this doesn’t really do much more me lmao

Oopiri – I haven’t seen the original so I really liked this! S/o to Nagarjuna for realizing fairly quickly that its time for him to more age appropriate roles (take notes @ chiranjeevi). This is why the Akkineni’s are my fave! (my bias is showing so much in this post but do I really care). anyways, I loved the chemistry between Karthi and Nagarjuna cause lbr their bromance was the real love story in this. Shriya’s appearance made the childhood shipper in me super happy. Overall, an enjoyable film with some great performances.

Sardaar Gabbar Singh – The amount of hype this movie had, jfc. Tbh I don’t have anything major against Pawan Kalyan. He’s just not one of my favorites, and ngl I liked him in the early 2000s phase (i.e. before Gabbar Singh which is when his fans went to piccha peaks). His fan base is literally one of the worst. I just think they’re super extra and very disrespectful, esp at audio launches. So yes, I was happy that it flopped because one it put the pk fans in their place who were hyping this to no end. Also he wrote the story and screenplay for this and reading some reviews about that gave me life lmao. If you want to hear something good about this movie, Kajal looks stunning in all her princess-y clothes and a few of the songs are pretty good.

Sarrainodu – I actually haven’t seen this yet but I do want to. Here I go being biased again lol. If this starred anyone I didn’t care for, I would have no interest in this movie but because it’s the fave, Allu Arjun, I have to watch it. I like a lot of the video songs and the music actually grew on me when I was forced to listen to it A LOT in India over the summer. Also he looks hella good, I’m sold, bye.

Supreme – Ok this movie was huge in India over the summer. Everyone loved it and ngl I used the phrase “its amazing zing zing” about a thousand times among my cousins without even having seen it. I tried watching it once I got back and it was just too much loud comedy for me to handle and I never finished it.

Brahmotsavam – oh lord. TOO SOON. Jk, I’m over it. Easily the biggest disappointment of 2016 in terms of what was promised and what was delivered. I literally followed this movie since it was even rumored to be happening because Mahesh and Sreekanth Addala. Then Mickey J Meyer was brought on and then Samantha and I was just so hyped. I think the fact that I was dying to watch this in theaters and then I didn’t even want to watch it once it was online, says a lot. I was just really shocked that everyone, fans and non-fans alike panned it especially when it involved sooo many people. The second hand embarrassment is too real. But I did eventually watch it and what the actual hell. There was literally no story, no coherence, and way too many irrelevant characters. Mahesh has a pattern of delivering blockbusters after massive flops so here’s hoping the best for his next!

A…Aa: I have so many feelings about this movie. Trivikram is one of my most favorite directors/writers and has been for a long time. With Attarintiki Daredi, I was pretty disappointed that he went full on commercial and I thought he lost some of his touch. That changed a bit with Son of Satyamurthy (but I feel like a majority of the reason that I liked that movie is bc of Allu Arjun lol). But yeah anyway, A…Aa is still a very commercial movie, its not in any way niche. However, I think Trivikram finally struck the balance of substance and commerciality which made it an entertaining movie while also leaving you with something to think about. The story was actually very simple and something that’s definitely been done before, but the screenplay had Trivikram’s name all over it. It was apparent in every single dialogue. He also pulled out some spectacular performances that were subdued but well done. I remember Samantha saying in an interview that because this is Trivikram’s third movie with her, he knows when she’s reusing an expression which forced her to improve her performance. When the movie was announced, I was kind of disappointed that Nithiin was in it because he’s never been a favorite of mine but I fell in love with him after this. I think in a lot of his movies he tries to do the typical commercial hero act and its obvious that he borrows heavily from Pawan Kalyan’s style. But in this his characterization was very subdued and painted him as a common guy which made him a lot more likable. It was also easier to ship the lead pair because the star aura tends to overshadow the chemistry but here I was really able to see the characters instead of the actors behind them. I just wished the story was more unique but otherwise a really good movie!

Okka Ammayi Thappa - Sundeep really needs to promote his movies more because they always seem to go under the radar. I was actually really excited for this because Sundeep & Nithya as the lead pair. I’m pretty sure its one of those movies that takes place in the span of a single day which I love bc if you can stretch a day into a full film, its gotta be one hell of a day. Not sure if this was a hit or not but I definitely want to check it out once its online.

Gentleman – (Spoiler Free). This was pretty good! A nice balance of romance and suspense. The story was intriguing and the performances were well done. I didn’t like the comedy though. The situational humor was fine but I hated the comedy track and I felt like it made the movie so much slower than it needed to be.

Oka Manasu - I was so hyped for this cause I love Naga Shourya and Niharika but apparently this was very slow and boring. I hope this doesn’t discourage Niharika from doing more movies because tollywood really needs some actual telugu actresses. (Side Note: Allu Arjun’s speech at this movie’s audio launch !! He basically called out the PK fans in a long 10 mins lecture and it gave me lifeee)

Pelli Choopulu - FAVE!!! Truly a new age rom com. I watched this in a theater in India and I loved it! The story was fresh, engaging, and hilarious. I loved how the characters were very realistic and reflective of actual youth and not hero-like at all. Also s/o for the strong female characterization !! You go Chitra! I think it did an amazing job of combining comedy, romance, social issues, and emotion into a very believable and enjoyable film. And not to forget the music which is so so good. Also, I’m gonna quote this movie in my grave.

Manamantha - I looove movies that have multiple inter-related stories. The four characters and their respective stories were written well with each character tackling a unique situation. Overall, I liked it, but it definitely could have been better.

Srirasthu Subhamastu - I watched this in India and it was nice to see it on the big screen because the best part of this movie was the grandeur of production. Starring in a movie produced by your father clearly has its perks. I don’t really care about Allu Sirish but he’s still pretty new so to be fair he was pretty good in this. The story is very very routine and predictable but I remember liking the dialogues

Babu Bangaram - I don’t think this was a hit? But fiiinally, Venky in a movie that’s not a remake, which ofc didn’t last long cause his next is a remake smh.

Janatha Garage - This movie was apparently the biggest hit of 2016 in terms of box office and imo its not deserving. The trailer for this movie made it seem really good but it was a disappointment in the end. The thing with Koratala Siva’s movies is that he always has a good social message but then commercializes it way too much. I understand what he’s trying to do but I wish he’d cut down on the violence and focus on the actual issue. This couldve been a really amazing movie about environmentalism but it turned into something really routine. Im also annoyed that a stellar cast of NTR, Mohanlal, Samantha, and Nithya was wasted on such a mediocre movie.

Jo Achyutananda - This was pretty good. As per the director’s style, it was very simple with life-like characters. The story was very interesting but I thought it was pretty anti-climactic and definitely could have been taken to another level. S/o for Nani’s cameo towards the end which sadly was the only male eye candy (sorrynotsorry).

Majnu - Even though this is Nani’s movie and I usually have high expectations for his movies, I didn’t expect much from this. The movie didn’t offer anything spectacular. The plot started off pretty interesting but then went the routine rom- com path. It gets a fair share of laughs and the music is fabulous but otherwise underwhelming.

Abhinetri - I haven’t seen this yet and I don’t really care tbh but I’ll probably watch it eventually.

Mana Oori Ramayanam - This seems really interesting from the trailer. Definitely a niche film and I don’t think it did well commercially but I want to see it.

Premam - What do I say about this that won’t get me hate lmao. I haven’t seen this yet but it received pretty good reviews as well as commercial success. I don’t support remakes ofc but I know I’ll end up watching this eventually. I’m glad that Naga Chaitanya is back on track again ?

Saahasam Swasaga Saagipo - I really want to watch this because romance + thriller is my faaave. I don’t think this was that big of a hit but Im still excited to see it. The album is amazing and I assume the bgm will be as well. Also s/o for Naga Chaitanya’s look in this movie which is his best yet imo. Is it just me or has he become so much more attractive now that he’s unavaible lol.

Ekkadiki Pothavu Chinnavada - I haven’t seen this yet, but heard that it was really good! Seems like another Karthikeya-type movie? Who would’ve guessed that Nikhil would be most successful actor from the Happy Days gang (besides tamanna ofc).

Jayammbu Nishchayambu Raa - same as above ^, haven’t seen, heard it was good.Other than that, I’m glad a small film got acclaim.

Dhruva - How much credit can you give to a remake ? I haven’t seen this or the original but I know I’ll probably like it.

Overall I think 2016 was a pretty good year for movies with many of the successes coming from small budget films which seems to be an increasing trend in Tollywood. The fact that Sardaar Gabbar Singh and Brahmotsavam were total box office disasters even though they starred arguably the two biggest stars in TFI shows that the majority of audiences crave content over star power which I’m all here for!

#tollywod #telugu cinema #text #kavya

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