ours blancs

Everdeen Vineyards

happy valentine’s day, just barely! here’s a little drabble that wouldn’t leave me, hope you enjoy <3

“Have you had a chance to look at the menu yet?” Katniss asked the back of the man’s head, her eyes already scanning the room to make note of the new patrons she still needed to greet. A steady flow of customers through the tasting room was keeping her busy–not that she was complaining. Not much, anyway.

The man turned around, and she snapped her gaze back to him, a polite smile fixing itself to her lips. “Not yet, I’m afraid.” He smiled, and her expression froze as she got a look at his face for the first time. “Hey, Katniss.”

It took an embarrassingly long moment for the synapses in her brain to fire, and her smile slipped. “Oh–Peeta?” Why she phrased it like a question, she didn’t know. Of course, it was Peeta. She’d recognize that face, with those blue eyes and that sweet smile, anywhere. She just hadn’t expected to see it here. “Oh my god–what–I mean, hi. Wow.”

He laughed slightly, and she felt herself blushing. She shook her head, forcing a laugh too. “I’m sorry. How are you?” she asked awkwardly. She wasn’t entirely sure of the protocol for greeting an old high school classmate who’d existed mainly on the periphery of her acquaintances. The last time she’d seen him was graduation 10 years ago.

“I’m good,” he said, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. “I just wanted to check this place out. I, ah, saw your post about it on Facebook.” He looked sheepish when he said that, and she blinked. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that–the fact that he could, and did, apparently, read her posts on Facebook. She’d accepted his friend request years ago in college without much thought; they weren’t friends or anything, but she’d received numerous requests from people she barely knew from high school over the years, so it hadn’t seemed too strange. Some–actually, probably most requests–she’d declined. She hadn’t seen the harm in adding him, though. She didn’t know him well, but Peeta Mellark was nice. Funny. Popular. College wrestling champion two years in a row, or something like that–not that she was keeping tabs. He’d regularly show up in her feed over the years, even though they never interacted.

Since she barely used Facebook these days, it just didn’t occur to her he would ever see anything from her.

“Right, of course,” she said with a dazed laugh. “That was the point. Um, thanks for coming. That’s–that’s really nice of you.” She folded her arms over her chest, feeling uncomfortable and not sure what to do with her hands. They were trembling slightly.

Peeta pressed his lips into a small smile, his eyes darting around as he surveyed the room, the people milling around them. “This place looks incredible.”

She wondered if she was ever going to stop blushing at this point. “Thank you. I mean, most of the groundwork was already laid.” She took a deep breath, not wanting to launch into that story. If he’d seen her post, then he’d already learned of her efforts to revitalize her family’s old vineyard, which had been in disrepair since her father’s death more than a decade ago. “Let me get you a menu.”

He nodded while she grabbed a paper menu from a nearby table, holding it out for him. “We do glasses and bottles of the wines listed here, but we also offer a tasting where you can sample seven of our wines. If you haven’t been here before, I recommend that.” She stopped herself and laughed, shaking her head. “Which, of course you haven’t. This weekend is the grand reopening. I just mean–that’s probably what you want to do.”

His eyes flicked up to her from the menu, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll do that. Thank you.”

“Sure. Just find a seat outside if you’d like, and I’ll bring the wine to you,” she said with a vague gesture toward the patio, already turning away to scurry to the bar. She needed a moment to compose herself, inexplicably rattled.

It was just…Peeta. Mellark. Here. To see her. Or rather, to see her vineyard, but it was her vineyard. And he’d come because she’d made a post on Facebook proudly announcing the reopening of Everdeen Vineyards, after three years of planning and toiling and fermenting wines until they were just right.

Keep reading

Sculpture of Art Deco

Sculpture of the Art Deco period was mainly designed to decorate office buildings, public squares, and private salons. It was almost always representational, usually of heroic or allegorical figures related to the purpose of the building. Themes were usually chosen by the patron, and abstract sculpture for decoration was extremely rare. It was frequently attached to facade of buildings, particularly over the entrance.

Allegorical sculptures of dance and music by Antoine Bourdelle were the essential decorative feature of the earliest Art Deco landmark in Paris, the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées in Paris, in 1912. Aristide Maillol reinvented the classical ideal for his statue of the River (1939), now held at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The Paris City Museum of Modern Art, and the esplanade in front of the Palais de Chaillot, facing the Eiffel Tower, was crowded with new statuary by Charles Malfray, Henry Arnold, and many others.

In the United States, many European sculptors trained at the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris, came to work; they included Gutzon Borglum, sculptor of Mount Rushmore Lincoln Memorial. Other American sculptors, including Harriet Whitney Frishmuth, had studied with Auguste Rodin in Paris. The 1929 stock market crash largely destroyed the market for monumental sculpture, but one grand project remained; the new Rockefeller Center. The American sculptors Lee Lawrie and Paul Manship designed heroic allegorical figures for facade and plaza. In San Francisco, Ralph Stackpole provided sculpture for the facade of the new San Francisco Stock Exchange building.

One of the best known and certainly the largest Art Deco sculpture is the Christ the Redeemer by the French sculptor Paul Landowski, completed between 1922 and 1931, located on a mountain top overlooking Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. François Pompon was a pioneer of modern stylized sculpture. He was not fully recognized for his artistic accomplishments until the age of 67 at the Salon d'Automne of 1922 with the work “Ours blanc”, also known as “The White Bear”, now in the Musée d'Orsay in Paris.

One genre of the sculpture was called “the Chryselephantine statuette”, named for a style of ancient Greek temple statues made of gold and ivory. One of the best-known Art Deco salon sculptors was the Romanian-born Demétre Chiparus, who produced colourful small sculptures of dancers. Other notable salon sculptors included Ferdinand Preiss, Josef Lorenzl, Alexander Kelety, Dorothea Charol and Gustav Schmidtcassel.

Parallel with these more neoclassical sculptors, more avant-garde and abstract sculptors were at work in Paris and New York. The most prominent were Constantin Brâncuși, Joseph Csaky, Alexander Archipenko, Henri Laurens, Jacques Lipchitz, Gustave Miklos, Jean Lambert-Rucki, Jan et Joël Martel, Chana Orloff, and Pablo Gargallo.

animals #2 : mammals

animals #1

- anteater : fourmilier or tamanoir

- armadillo : tatou

- bat : chauve-souris (f) “bald mouse”

- bear : ours / ourson (polaire, blanc, brun)

- camel : chameau + chamelle / chamelon

- cheetah : guépard 

- chimpanzee : chimpanzé 

- deer : cerf + biche / faon

- dolphin : dauphin

- dromedary : dromadaire

- elephant : éléphant / éléphanteau

- fox : renard / renardeau

- giraffe : girafe (f) / girafon

- gorilla : gorille

- hippos : hippopotame

- kangaroo : kangourou

- koala : koala

- lemur : lémurien

- lion : lion-ne / lionceau

- leopard : léopard / léopardeau

- mammal : mammifère 

- meerkat : suricate 

- mole : taupe (f)

- monkey : singe + guenon 

- orangutan : orang-outang 

- orca : orque (f)

- panda : panda (roux)

- penguin : pingouin

- platypus : ornithorynque 

- porcupine : porc-épic

- porpoise : marsouin

- raccoon : raton-laveur (“washing baby-rat”)

- ram : bélier

- rhino : rhinocéros 

- sea lion : otarie (f)

- seal : phoque / blanchon

- shark : requin

- sheep : mouton + brebis / agneau

- sperm whale : cachalot

- squirrel : écureuil

- tiger : tigre-sse / tigron

- weasel : belette (f)

- whale : baleine (f) / baleineau

- wild boar : sanglier + laie / marcassin

- wolf : loup + louve / louveteau

- woodchuck : marmotte (f)

- zebra : zèbre / zébron 

Mont Blanc

Summary: In which Phil goes to a maid café and stumbles upon the lovely pastel boy that looks oh so good in pastel thigh highs.

Word Count: 2532

Warnings: Slight lewdness if you squint??

this was on my wattpad and since this blog is dead af son, I’ve decided to just dump this here because why the hecky not??

Friday nights, in Phil’s opinion, were meant for going out to the bar, loading up on vodka, and slurring through a song or two when it was karaoke night. When PJ called up and said that Chris had planned to treat them, he was enthusiastic, but was immediately shot down by the time he hopped in the car and saw a shit eating grin on both of their faces as they pulled up to a strip mall, the outlet in front of them bright, pink, and gaudy.

“Why? I thought that we were heading downtown?” Phil complained. PJ turned around, laughing.

“We’ll be getting free food since Chris knows some people there.” PJ laughed as he checked his phone. Chris also had a grin on his face, laughing at Phil’s sour expression as he pulled the key from the ignition.

“Are we really doing this?” Phil groaned. He was already regretting jumping into the clunky pickup with them. If anything, he could have had his trousers at his ankles, accompanied by a bottle of lotion.

“Quit your whining, or I’ll drive us into the harbor. You want us to spend the night with the fishes?” Chris asked, placing his car keys into his pocket as he stepped out.

“No harm in trying something new.” PJ chimed in. “You can stay in here if you want to. Just don’t blow up anything while we’re enjoying our free desserts.”

“Don’t just uninvite me like that,” He argued, unbuckling his seatbelt. “You could have at least stopped by the convenience store and grabbed a bottle of Skyy. Even a Moscato would suffice.”

“Ugh, you coming, or what, you big baby?” Chris complained. Phil stepped out at last, and slammed the door behind him, pouting slightly as he followed them. “I’m only coming because I don’t feel like dying from asphyxiation or hanging around outside in this dump.”

“Alright.” PJ droned out teasingly. “I heard that they have pretty great caramel machiattos.”

Phil sighed, and placed his hands in his pockets, his head slightly raised at the comment, yet he turned away, reluctant to let PJ see his facade falter even more.

“Welcome, Master!” A cheery squeal rang out as soon as they stepped through the door. The walls were sky blue with white polka dots, the mahogany tables all decorated with small succulents. Compared to that, he looked like the walking dead, or better yet, a walking black hole.

The smell of freshly baked sweets filled the room, making knees nearly buckle. What caught his attention the most was the boy waiting the table nearby; a flower crown sat on his brown locks, and the pastel purple stockings he was wearing started to make his jeans seem tighter.

“This way please, master.” A petite girl interrupted, lifting herself with each step, doe-eyed and vibrant. She led them to a table towards the back of the shop, where the scent of the sugar and warm bread was stronger. “Have a seat, master. Or would you prefer sir?”

“Phil’s fine, thanks.”

“Alright! Your server will be with you soon.” The young girl smiled before scampering away, her skirt and apron ensemble bouncing with each step she tool.

“This place is legit.” Chris laughed, before fiddling with the tiny cactus display situated in the middle of the table. “Not to mention, their puddings are like an orgasm in your mouth.”

“Good evening, master.” A round voice interrupted. Phil looked up, and he almost choked on his water. The pastel boy was in the same outfit as the hostess, the corset hugging his sides and the flower crown delicate and fragile in his hair. His brown eyes were light, like toffee, yet they looked so warm. His eyes always trailed back to the boy’s stockings, and the slightly tanned skin in between them. The skirt was already a sign that he wasn’t going to survive sitting here, let alone be served by him. The amount of things he wanted to do to the slivers of skin between the stockings and the skirt were unimaginable.

“Hey, Dan.” Chris chimed, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Thanks again for the offer. I’m sure you remember PJ? And this is Phil.” He pointed to each of them.

“No problem,” Dan smiled back at them, before bringing out a notepad and a pen from his apron. “Nice to meet you two. What will you all be having today?”

Phil couldn’t help himself at this point. The boy’s smile was soft and welcoming, his eyes glimmering as he spoke. It reminded him of a porcelain doll, all intricate and pure, skin soft and welcoming, asking to be marked up. He cursed the fact that he was wore his black skinny jeans, he needed to hop into a cold shower or get a stall immediately, dead fish, his grandmother’s underwear, soggy bread, the first note of Welcome to the Black Parade-

“Master?” The pastel boy asked again, this time in a concerned tone, yet it still sounded poised and light. “Are you alright, master?”

‘Your existence is illegal, that’s what’s wrong.’ He wanted to say, his tongue tied as he focused on the boy’s eyes, filled with worry, but also with a tinge of curiosity, a sprinkle of eagerness, and what for a second he swore was a carnal glint. He didn’t even want to think about how he was calling him master. “I’m fine. What would you recommend?”

“Our specials today are the caramel machiatto and our mont blanc.” He chimed, his cheeks flushed and slightly chubby.

“…I’ll just take those then.”

“Alright!” He said in a bubbly tone, scribbling away before tucking the notepad back into the frilly apron and taking his menus. “And you two?”

“Tiramisu, and maybe just an iced coffee.”

“Raspberry pudding. And a green tea latte.”

“Gotcha. I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

“Say,” Chris intervened, grabbing the before Dan could take it. “Sit with us, won’t you? After all, we’d love to be entertained by you.” He pointed to a small pink box, with small flowers around it, with ‘Promotion’ on it, and the picture of a maid sitting with a guy. “I know you only agreed on food, but could you…?” PJ nodded along in agreement, pulling a chair from another table. Phil meekly followed, his head bowing and rising slowly.

“Hm. Alright!” He said in a bubbly tone, scribbling away before tucking the notepad back into the frilly apron and taking their menus. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

As he walked away, the pen slipped from his smock, and he bent down, Phil nearly choked on his own spit.

The twink was wearing baby blue lace panties.

“Here you are,” Dan gushed as he placed the teacup down. Phil responded with a casual thanks, and he could have sworn that Dan’s cheeks flushed a slight a peach. “You’re welcome, master.”

“Phil’s fine.”

“Oh, okay. Phil.” Dan said timidly, and Phil relished in the boy’s soft tone, the way his name rolled off his lips made him wonder what kinds of pitches he’d let out while he was on his knees taking it rough-

Dead puppies, bad memes, going to court for a traffic ticket, mid-terms, horses-

This was just not his day.

“Phil? If you want, I can get you some peppermint tea if you’re not feeling well.” Dan interrupted, concern in his eyes.

“No, I’m fine.” Phil assured him, and took a sip of the machiatto, the warm and sweet liquid running down his throat.

“Thanks, Danny.” PJ clamored, taking a generous sip of his drink while trying to hide his laughter from Phil’s spaced out state.

“I’ll be right back with your food.” Dan said with a bubbly tone. Compared to the other maids, his was spontaneous yet rounded, despite being somewhat loud and bright, the tone color was slightly deep.

“Shit, I gotta take a call.” PJ suddenly piped up after a couple of sips, his phone screen lit up in his hand. “Call me back in when our food gets here?” He stood up, heading for the entrance frantically.

“Enjoying yourself so far?” Chris mocked. Phil shot him a look, before placing his elbows on the table. “It’s pretty cute.” Phil muttered.

“The place, or Dan?” Chris said back.

“The place, obviously.” Phil shot back. “Although I’m not really a fan of the of the lights. I think I’m going blind.”

“True,” Chris stretched, turning only to see Dan walking towards them with a tray of food. “Be right back, gotta empty my bowels, gotta make some room. Don’t eat everything while I’m gone, okay?” He joked before scurrying to the restrooms.

“Huh, where did PJ and Chris go?” Dan asked as he set down the plates of food.

“Er, they had things to take care of.” Phil muttered, silently cursing both of them under his breath. Dan nodded, before walking off with the empty tray. Phil watched as his hips swayed, as if he was doing a subtle sashay.

The dessert in front him looked like a pillow exploded, yet he didn’t mind, and dug in, liking the flavor of the chestnut, he moaned in response. What he didn’t expect, was Dan suddenly pulling the chair and plopping himself next to him as he did so.

He sat contently, and placed a plate of a green looking roll on the table. He fixed his skirt before squirming on the seat. Phil couldn’t help but glance at the pastel, a slight rose color in his cheeks. “So…” Dan started, trying to condemn the silence between them. The pretty boy looked up, a small smile forming on his lips, lips that definitely had some fruit flavored gloss on them. “What?” Phil asked, slightly bewildered.

“Oh, sorry.” Dan said timidly, scooting away. “I just really like your eyes.”

The blood had rushed away from his brain at a rate he could not fathom. “Thank you.” Phil said back, looking away.

Not wanting to be awkward, he looked back at the younger man and spoke up. “How has your week been?” He grinned, as Dan fiddled with own his fingers. Upon closer inspection, Phil noticed that they were painted a light blue, with small white polka dots similar to the wallpaper.

“Er, tiring I guess. I had to work the night shift at a fast food place nearby on Monday.” Phil groaned.

“Must be hard,” The younger man chimed, his hands pushing his curly fringe away from his eyes. “There must be all sorts of crazy people walking in.”

“You have no idea.” Phil groaned. “A crazy woman came up to me and asked for chicken wings with gravy, and when I told her that we didn’t serve that, she slammed her hands on the counter and started yelling at me in Spanish before scattering magazine clippings of corgis on the floor and tipping me with a half eaten lollipop.”

“Ew,” Dan shuddered in disgust, laughing along. “There was this one time that I was waiting tables during lunch, and this little girl spilled her orange juice on me called me ma'am, and when I told her my name, she wondered if it was short for ‘Danielle.’ She was pretty cute though.” His dimples were now prominent, his cheeks seemingly squishable like peach jello. Never had he seen someone tell a story of being spilled on by a little girl with such amusement.

“Wow.” Phil laughed along. “The only exception to, ‘the customer is always right.’ Why did you decide to work here?”

“The outfits, for one; the skirts are nice, the pay is decent, and the flower crowns make me feel so soft. Not to mention, the staff is great.” He laughed. “I feel safe here.”

“Safe?” Phil asked.

“It’s virtually the only place that I can walk in a skirt and frills and not get weird looks, but I’ve gotten used to them.” Dan hung his head slightly. “Clothes are clothes, so it doesn’t exactly matter, as long as you’re comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Phil agreed. “It shouldn’t really be anyone’s business regarding what you choose to wear. In this day and age, strict gender roles are outdated. Guys and girls and people alike should be allowed to wear skirts if they wanted to.”

Dan smiled, and grabbed his fork and cut himself a slice of the green tea roll, whimpering in delight as the sweet cream met his tongue, and followed up by cutting a piece and holding it in front of Phil. “Good answer.”

“Thanks.” Phil piped up as Dan held up a forkful in front of his lips. “Say, ‘ahh’.” He teased, giggling. Phil obliged, opening his mouth and savoring the fluffy chiffon and the fact that the fork had been in Dan’s mouth. “Shit…”

“Is it good?”

“It’s amazing.” He groaned, looking Dan in the eye, admiring his brown orbs. Dan looked back, his eyes warm and inviting.

PJ promptly returned, and grinned as he slid his phone into his pocket and sat down. The two pulled away quickly. “Sorry for interrupting your eye sex. Starting without me?”

Phil gave him a glare, yet Dan grinned. “Did you wanna try some too? I’ll bring another plate if you want.” Dan chimed, and cut him a piece, as well as preparing a piece for Chris. PJ gladly took it, grabbing it with his fork and placing it in his mouth.

“Sorry guys,” Chris returned, flustered, yet delighted at the sight of the food in front of him as well as the sight of Dan feeding Phil. “I missed a lot, didn’t I?”

“Here,” Dan offered the piece of cake, and Chris grabbed it, groaning in delight. “Is this new?”

“Yeah.” Dan chirped. Out of nowhere, there was a loud noise like glass shattering and a high pitched cry like a child’s. Dan immediately straightened up, popping the last piece of the roll into his mouth and grabbing his plate. “Sorry guys, I have to step away. I enjoyed this a lot though. Thanks.” Dan looked at all of them hurriedly before he stopped at Phil and blushed, and stood up. They all thanked him back before he turned his back, only to walk towards Phil. “And, Phil?”


Dan pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before winking and giving him a small wave and hurrying off. “Thanks for your patronage, master.”

“No problem,” He mumbled back, trying to hide the red in his cheeks, while Chris and PJ began to chuckle.

Dead puppies, dead kittens, a pretty boy, master, fuck, breed, snuggle-

He nearly lost it if it wasn’t for his the snickers he heard from his companions.

They finished the rest of their food, left some money by the succulents, and left, feeling content as they hopped into the truck.

“Have a good time?” PJ asked as the truck pulled out of the parking lot. There was a period of silence, and the man turned back, only to chuckle at the punk in the backseat.

Phil was dazed. He sat there, a smug grin on his face, laughing to himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Je suis un panda

Je suis un panda.

Les ours blancs et les ours noirs me regardent étrangement. Ne me trouvant ni tout à fait assez blanc pour les uns, ni tout à fait assez noir pour les autres.

Quand je prends la défense des ours noirs, les ours blancs me disent que je suis trop noir pour les comprendre.

Et quand je prends la défense des ours blancs, les ours noirs me disent que je suis trop blanc pour les comprendre.

Alors parfois, je rêve que tous les ours deviennent des pandas pour qu'ils puissent s'entendre au delà des apparences…

Pourtant, je sais à quel point ce rêve est illusoire, il y aurait toujours des pandas qui trouveraient des différences avec les autres pandas parce qu'ils n'ont pas des oreilles assez rondes, ou qu'ils ont une tache noire sur l’œil gauche et pas sur l’œil droit.

Quand, je regarde autour de moi je découvre qu'il y a des pandas qui fatigués des reproches ont finalement choisit un “camp” et affirme avec force “Je suis un ours blanc” ou “je suis un ours noir”, rejetant avec violence les ours de l'autre couleur et les autres pandas qui n'ont pas “choisi” comme eux.

J'en vois d'autres qui ont abandonné et se détache du monde. Je me reconnais dans ceux-là : j'ai souvent cédé à cette facilité de laisser les autres régler leurs problèmes et vivre ma vie dans mon coin sans me préoccuper de ces guerres incessantes et futiles.

Alors parfois, je pleure sur ce monde où les ours refusent de s'entendre et d'écouter les autres parce qu'ils sont différents…

Mais un jour, je me suis rendu compte qu'il y avait d'autres pandas comme moi. Ensembles, on rêve d'un monde où les ours seraient de toutes les couleurs : rouges, bleus, verts, mauves, arc-en-ciel, avec des tâches, avec des rayures… Et tous s'émerveilleraient de la différence de l'autre plutôt que de la rejeter…

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm trying to put together a Miraculous Ladybug Universe tree to keep track of all these AU's, and since you seem to be the most connected when it comes to AU's I was wondering if you could tell me which ones you know, or at least link me to someone who can. Thank you!

YES. AU’s.

I don’t know the logistics of all of these or how they really work.  Some have fanfics that give us logic. Others are mostly concepts. 

Here’s a list of one’s I know of or that I’ve low key made up:

Breakdance AU: belongs to @starrycove​ honestly just search #breakdanceau or #miraculousmoves.

Anastasia AU: Ok so I don’t own this idea by any means. You’ll see it floating around and there’s a fanfic called At the Beginning. But here’s my idea for it:


Mermaid/Little Mermaid AU: Lots of different variations of this one. There’s a fic called He’s Not a Siren. Also lot’s of fan art for this one. Can’t post it here bc I don’t own it. Also there’s a couple little mermaid versions. Here’s one. Here’s mermaid Marinette.  

Twin AU: Just got stalk @edorazzi​ she’s what started that beautiful mess.

Cinderella AU: Here!!!! There’s like a whole little comic for this one.

Chat Blanc/Marionette: Our heroes, akumatized! Just search the tags for this one. It’s more of a concept. Has some cool fics/fan art.

Project Runway AU: Based all around @runningoutofink​‘s story Chasing the Chatwalk. And I am OBSESSED WITH THIS ONE.

Alice in Wonderland AU: @pozolegirl​ has got you covered she’s working on a comic.

Generbent AU: It’s exactly what you think it is. 

Moulin Rouge AU: (   ͡°  ͜ʖ  ͡° ) from@thebirdfromthemoon-art and @taylordraws

go stalk them or here’s a link to one of the pics. 

Hogwarts/Harry Potter AU: It exists. I can’t find any links at the moment but I’m sure it’s in the AU tag.

Those are the main stream ones i can think of at the moment. If you scroll through my posts you’ll see I’ve edited a number of pics for AU’s people request such as Hunger Games, High School Musical, Mean Girls, Tangled etc… So I guess you can count those? They just don’t have any story to them.

Ok it’s late I need to go to bed but seriously check out the #miraculousau tag it has good stuff.

fandoom-strikes  asked:

I just imagined Chat noir being akumaticed ( let's Call him Chat blanc for our convinience) and wanting to Lure out ladybug to make her walk into a trap. For that purpose he needs a hostage and didn't ladybug mention that she knew / was friends with this girl from his class ? ... So blanc sneaks into the school and then has a big entrance to the classroom. He procedes to kidnap marinette and she can't transform infront of her class. She is taken and can't even get her bag ( tikki ) ...

omg and then the awkward, tied-up conversation Marinette has trying to talk him down, but he’s distracted when he’s impatiently waiting for Ladybug