Andrew Zo designed the Clifton engagement ring box, a unique product that not only conceals the ring in a slim, wallet-size container before the big proposal, but also unfolds to show the ring pirouetting like a blooming flower.
Adrien: *produces engagement ring*
Adrien: futurewifesayswhat
Marinette: what?
Adrien: *screeching*
Currently looking for someone who can design and code a Tumblr theme, rough mockup design would be provided. This is paid work. Reblog would be appreciated.
why do cute erasers get made? why design something like this when it’s meant to slowly be destroyed? cute snacks get to at least have quick deaths but the cute eraser gets a lingering death of a thousand rubs
Also on AO3
Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6
Marinette had just finished a very successful brainstorming design session on a walk down one of the beautiful but less-tourist-frequented streets of Paris. It was a little narrower, and crooked, with a mix of classic row houses and apartments that just screamed of Paris to her. She’d grown up in the busy city, and didn’t mind being surrounded by people so often, but once in a while an out-of-the-way adventure was exactly what she needed.
As she walked, she looked down at some of her rough drawings showing buildings and the design features that translated nicely into clothing. She startled when she crashed into someone bigger. “Oh, aaagh!” Her spiral bound book flew up into the air as she stumbled and tried to catch it and herself.
“Oh, I’m so sorry Marinette,” Adrien’s voice identified him before she could fully register what had happened.
Once everything stopped moving, she found herself caught in an extreme dip in one arm, while his other hand had magically caught her book. "Adrien?“
He smiled shyly as he eased her back to her feet. "I really need to watch where I’m going better.” He shook his head. "Are you all right?“
She nodded hastily. "You’ve seen me actually fall from worse than a minor collision.” She bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t mentioned that. She’d gotten much better around him since getting to know him a bit more, but she still sometimes slipped back into flustered mode. "Didn’t you have a photoshoot this morning?“ She didn’t track his schedule like a rabid fan now, but he’d mentioned it yesterday in class. With a break in rainy weather in the forecast, everyone was talking about their Saturday plans.
"I did, but it wrapped up early.” His small grin made her suspicious, and then his hand went to the back of his neck. "Since I’m not due home for another two hours, I kind of snuck off before something else could get added to my schedule.“
She faked a gasp. "Adrien Agreste, are you on the run again ?”
His cheeks went faintly pink and he shrugged. "You’re my favorite accomplice on these adventures.“
"You have a new campaign out,” she pointed out.
“Oh… yeah.” He hesitated a moment. "You saw that?“
She patted his arm gently. "I live in Paris. There’s no way to have not seen it.” She smirked at him. “You glorious celestial being, you.”
Me: “oh they’re cute cactuses”
Person: *lays paper on top*
Me: “no fucking way”
Person: *pulls paper back and reveals perfectly transferred image*
Me: 😮😮😮😮😮😮😮😮😮
If I am correct, this method of printing is known as a “linocut”, which is where an artist chisels out a design, paints over the top of it, then transfers the ink onto a paper. This artist did this in a rather unique way, where they combined different colors onto the same printing board, allowing for gradients and subtle color changes. Most pictures have only one color, sometimes a few, but this one is very involved. The printing process is the opposite of the Intaglio method of printing, where the ink is collected from the grooves, as opposed to the raised sections. Linocut is actually rather widely used in art and graphic classes to introduce students to printing art. Please feel free to look up pictures of linocut pictures, they’re very cool looking.
Chat watched intently as Marinette glared at the dress form. She was working on her final design for her fashion class and, judging by her mutterings and focused stare, it wasn’t quite working the way she wanted it too. His eyes wandered around the room. Two years into her college program and she had managed to get an apartment her own within walking distance of her parents’ bakery. The walls of her workspace were with inspiration boards and design sketches. His eyes lingered on the board with Ladybug and Chat Noir themed designs, before continuing to drift again, boredom setting in. He knew she was going to be busy this week, but he had still hoped she would take at least a little break to hang out with him.
“C’mon Princess, just take a little break?” Marinette mumbled an incoherent sentence, but otherwise continued fiddling with the draping on the dress. Chat let out a sigh and grabbed another cookie from the plate. His eyes scanned the room for what felt like the hundredth time that day, landing on a basket of yarn sitting in the corner. He felt a small prickling sensation in the back of his head and he glanced back at Marinette. Chat Noir shook his head and took another bite of cookie. His eyes returned to the basket of yarn, there was a particular blue that was intriguing him. He glanced back to where Marinette was attempting to drape the fabric for the fifteenth time and decided to take a closer look at the yarn. Upon further inspection, Chat was startled to discover that not only was it the exact same shade of blue as the scarf his father had given him, it was also the same texture and softness. In his shock, Chat dropped the yarn and, in his attempt to catch the yarn before it hit the floor, kicked the ball and sent it flying across the room. As Chat watched in horror, the ball of yarn bounced off the corner of Marinette’s desk and straight into the dress form that she had been working on. The girl stiffened and slowly turned around to face a sheepish Chat Noir.
“Sorry Princess. I guess you could say I was yarning for you?”
Marichat May Day 5: Yarning for You
Another short one today. Sorry guys, the scene in my head was not transferring well into writing. Also, trying to type while in a moving car is difficult.
jake-everfree asked:
usedbandaid answered:
I maintain the opinion that you can be simultaneously adorable and badass.
Marichat/Post-Reveal, T for language, 1000 words. On a night like any other, an older Chat Noir returns home. Except he’s so drunk he barely knows where he is, or what he is to Marinette, really. By the way, Marinette is in his home? (inspired by this tweet) [AO3]
These days, Chat Noir had grown out of his teenage years of chasing celebrity with grace. Quite literally. He no longer rushed into battle, but moved into place, unnoticed and ready to pounce with the stealth and poise of his namesake. The fact that he was a full grown adult, far heavier and bulkier than his younger self, rarely changed that.
At the moment, he stumbled through a window frame and got in one, maybe two, good arm flails before landing on hard floor with a loud THUD. Clattering, skittering, and rolling followed, objects falling off the desk he used as support to scamper up.
He was also rarely drunk out of his mind, but that impaired his stealthiness every time.
At least, he thought, it was his own window he crawled into. His own home he just made a mess of.
The lights went on.
Literally; not metaphorically. Chat Noir’s mind was still very dim and fuzzy. His grin showed it when he said, “Marinette! Hey! What are you doing here?”
She stared. His words also showed his lack of sense. “I live here.”
He stared, still leaning on the desk top on two splayed hands. “I live here.”
For @sillyxkittyy for your ML Secret Santa gift
Summary: Adrien gets to thinking about Christmas past during his present Christmas. He ends up getting his lovely wife, Marinette, to help him with some very special Christmas presents.
Rating: G- This is appropriate for all audiences
“Adrien,” Marinette sighed while shaking her head, “We do not need a four meter tall Christmas tree!” At the dumbfounded look on his face she face palmed before explaining, “Our ceilings are barely three meters tall, my love!”
“But Mari,” Adrien whined, gesturing at the gorgeous fir tree that stood tall next to his equally stunning wife, “It’s like, the perfect tree! It doesn’t have a bad angle anywhere.”
Marinette put her hand on his arm, “Kitty, we don’t have to fill up the huge front hall of that empty mansion with a Christmas tree. We have one small apartment and that tree over there will look absolutely gorgeous in the corner by the window when we’re done decorating it.”
She pointed to a shorter, but still lovely tree a few rows over.
Adrien eyed the tree for a few moments then sighed in defeat. “Why do you have to be so reasonable, Bugaboo?”
She grabbed his arm as they started walking toward the indicated conifer.
“I’m only being reasonable about the height of the tree, my dear. Wait till you see me in full tree trimming mode.”
Adrien smiled down at her. As Ladybug, she could easily throw Adrien halfway across Paris, barely lifting a finger in the process. As Marinette however, the petite girl was having to struggle to pull his impressive mass across the tree lot. She looked so adorable all wrapped up in her fluffy handmade coat and fuzzy pink hat with her breath coming out in huge puffs. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of the petite girl dragging him across the tree lot.
“That’ll be a sight for sure,” he said lazily daydreaming about how cozy they’d be later on, snuggled up in the apartment next to the fire and a tree overflowing with ornaments.
His smile faltered and Marinette was quick to notice it.
“What’s going on Adrien?” she asked quietly. When he seemed reluctant to speak she ran her hand down his arm and captured his hand in both of hers. She added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, or we could talk about it later if you need some time to process, but I hope you know I’m willing to listen.”
Adrien nodded. “It’s just,” he looked all around the tree lot, “my mother used to love to decorate Christmas trees. It was something that we did together each Christmas time. She had a theme for each tree, but she’d let me choose the colors of the lights and ribbons.”
Marinette stopped short causing Adrien to jerk to a halt.
“What do you mean by ‘each tree’?” she asked.
“Well there was the tree in the main hall,” he started to count off on one hand, “but father always insisted on designing that tree every year since it would be seen by guests and clients, so we didn’t do that one. Then there was the one in the dining room, it always had silver accents to match the silverware, and the one in the den, it had stuffed animals. It was mom’s little pun about being in a den. And there was the library tree which had tons of miniature fairy tale and storybooks on it, but that one was fake because mother felt it would be rude to bring a dead tree in, plant it in front of all the books, decorate it, and then toss it when-”
He was interrupted by Marinette’s laughter. As soon as she was able to she asked, “Are you telling me you had trees in every room of the house?”
“Well not every room,” he was quick to defend himself. “No Christmas trees in the bathrooms or the kitch-” he stopped as he remembered something. “No there was one in the kitchen, but it was made out of cooking utensils and pots so they could be washed and kept clean.”
This is such a delightful aged up piece. So much sweetness and happiness. Loved reading it.
The fact that you can’t raise taxes on billionaires even slightly without them pouring money into fascist political movements is, of itself, evidence that billionaires as a class shouldn’t be allowed to exist in the first place.
You, ah, don’t think it’s unfair to judge people’s morals based on their finances?
I, ah, think that it’s perfectly fair to judge people’s morals based on the amount of money they pour into neo-nazi political movements, yeah actually.
And what about the billionaires that don’t? Condemn all billionaires no matter what I guess
There is no ethical way to be a billionaire.
But why?
Because there are a limited amount of resources and currency. To have that much wealth you have to exploit others.
Do I gotta go find that post that demonstrates exactly how much a billion is? Because it’s a lot more than people think. Like, you know that saying that “a million dollars isn’t what it used to be”? Yeah? Well maybe that’s true for people who have a million dollars, but I still sure as fuck have never seen a million dollars and chances are I never will. Nor will most people. Eat the rich.
a million seconds is 12 days
a billion seconds is 32 YEARS
