#and tie a kid dressed as a cowboy to a totem pole and pretend like we‘re sacrificing him??

[wikagirl]

I forgor I wanted to post this so here it is a month later.

Time to clown on the "indian" aka stereotypes about natives art project week stuff from primary school (like 2007/8) I found in a box at the very tippy top of a shelf while cleaning my room

so first of can we please talk about how dusty this is? when I say it was at the tippy top of the sehlf I mean it like it was so far back I had to get a broom to pull the box forward, this thing has not seen the light of day for 16ish years

but now on to the contents

so first we have these little pouches which, by themselves, would be a pretty neat and cute arts and crafts project if it werent for the context of the overarching theme

then we got these things which I am assuming are supposed to be a pretty sad mockery/imtation of the medallions that are a traditional item in a lot of tribes in different variations across the american continent.

Gotta love how primitive these are, like it just shows the image that (sadly) most folks still have over here especially on the country side where learning about what european settelers did over in america is not seen as relevant enought to german history to teach about even tho the way settelers "managed" the "native issue" was literally the blueprint for concentrationcamps but that‘s a topic for a nother day

but I have give little me credit tho for scribbeling a literal thunder dragon on there, little me had good taste.

then we got a flimsy little cardboard tomahawk and a drum made from a flower pot and like 8 layers of that thin paper people weap sandwhiches in. Again, the drum would be a cute idea for a craft project if it weren‘t for the context.

While I‘ll most likely toss out the other stuff I will try to actually salvage the drum, sand off the acrylic paint and give it a new paint job and slap some fake moss on it, make it a little fairy core drum so when my bff rings her ocarina we can be a little fairy bard group at larps.

okay and not for the the ✨costume✨

yeah it-…its literally just a sheet with a neckhole and these fringey bits cut into it and a strip of fabric from the same sheet with little bisons on to it 😐👌 I am cringing as much as you are (probably)

so um yeah that‘s it. that‘s the post. I could write an analysis about this and how it perfectly displays the lack of care of european schools to properly teach about american history and what kind of rotten foundation the great land of the free is actually built on but honestly I don‘t really feel like I need to? I think you get the point?

like literally native hisotry is an OPTIONAL topic not in history but in ENGLISH class in 10th and 11th grade and only for vocabulary reasons, most of the time teachers tend to pick australian aborigines because it is a less political topic…aaand yeah its just really sad I guess.

I got lucky in 10th grade and had a teacher that eas close to retirement so she just didn‘t give a shit about the curriculum and freestyled about anything she was passionate about and since she lived in the US near a rez for like 10 years this was one of the topicss

also really glad that the internet exists and gave me the recources to educate myself more on topics like this because oh god I don‘t even wanna know what I would be like if that wasn‘t the case.

[p-artsypants]

Much Obliged

Inspired by @bugaboo-n-bananoir‘s amazing Cowboy!Adrien and Witch!Marinette Au. 

I’m probably going to write more to this later. It’s just too funny.

Ao3

---

Everyone deals with grief differently. Some take to drinking, others devote themselves to charity.

Adrien Agreste? Well, he became a cowboy.

It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision either. He had always been obsessed with American Westerns. Especially John Wayne. He practically worshipped the man.

He had a collection of hats, boots, spurs, and chaps. He had his favorite bolo tie, and every summer for two weeks, he helped out at his uncle’s ranch in the countryside, where he learned a thing or two about riding horses, lassoing, and other things his father would probably have heart attack over if he knew.

Yes, Adrien was obsessed with Cowboys and the Cowboy lifestyle.

So much so, that when he lost this mother, and subsequently emotionally lost his father, his closeted obsession became very public.

A 14 year old boy walking around with cowboy boots, hat, spurs and occasional chaps wouldn’t have been as jarring if they were in Texas. But given they were in the middle of Paris, France...he pretty much stuck out as a sore thumb. Even more so in the circles his father was included in. Sprinkling in a few ‘yeehaw’s, ‘howdy’s, and ‘pardner’s into his French was also pretty jarring.

And a complete embarrassment to his father, Gabriel Agreste, fashion icon.

“Adrien, I insist you stop this foolishness!” Gabriel said one day, after Adrien had turned up to a photo shoot in full gear.

“I cain’t pa!” Adrien yelled back. “It’s in my blood!”

“Stop talking like that! You don’t have a Texan accent!”

“I reckon I do!”

For a year, the arguments would continue, getting louder and louder until Adrien would plug his ears and start yodeling to drown his father out.

Eventually, they came to an agreement. Adrien would pretend to be like every normal Parisian at photo shoots, fashion shows, and big events. But he could continue to be a Cowboy at home without being reprimanded.

It worked for a while, really in Gabriel’s favor. The brief appearances of Cowboy Adrien in the past were written off as a phase.

But then Adrien demanded to go to school.

“I’m tired of bein’ cooped up here like a chicken! I want to go out and meet other folks!”

“You’re not like other folks! Er—other people!” Gabriel argues back. “You’re...special.”

“Sir, if I may?” Nathalie, Gabriel’s Stoic secretary spoke up. “Perhaps Adrien attending public school would be a good thing. It might encourage him to…drop some habits.”

Begrudgingly, Gabriel agreed, and Adrien was off to school.

Being homeschooled most of his life, Adrien didn’t have many friends. But he did have Chloe, who tolerated his Cowboy-ness with some degree of skepticism. She was never vocal about it, but she did secretly judge him, worry for his sanity. It was her school, her class, that he was transferring into today.

She waited for him at the front door, frowning slightly when she saw him exit the sedan with a white hat, flannel shirt, jeans, boots, and a wide belt buckle with a bronco on it.

But she smiled once he made eye-contact with her. After all, he was still very famous, and very handsome. “Howdy Chloe.”

“Oh yee-haw Adrikins!” She sang, clinging to his arm. “I’m so glad your father let you finally come to school!”

“Me too! But I reckon he just got annoyed with me practicing my rope tricks in the foyer all the time. The other day I lassoed a vase and smashed it. Not too happy ‘bout that, he was.”

“Oh, like he couldn’t buy a hundred more,” she waved her hand. “Come with me! I’ll show you to your seat!”

Upon entering the school, Adrien was suddenly bombarded with fans asking for autographs. It seemed everyone was just taking his attire for an interesting choice of fashion. That was what Chloe was hoping for.

But as soon as he started tipping his hat as a reply to ‘thank you’s, she started to see the eyebrows rising. People were suspicious. Maybe they’d just think it was part of the look. Yeah…maybe…

—

Marinette was not having a great day. Not a bad day though! Just not great. For one thing, she heard that Chloe Bourgeois was going to be in her class again this year. Again. Seriously, did Chloe ask to put in the same class on purpose? It was totally unfair!

But she was wearing her favorite black dress today, one that was enchanted to have a galaxy glittering on it, and if you looked closely, you could see it moving. It made her feel powerful, and not at all like the half-washed witch that she was. Sure she knew a few spells, but nothing very powerful, or life changing.

And certainly no curses, like Chloe told everyone she did. Hexes, yes, but not curses. Curses were powerful and crippling and permanent, even down bloodlines. Hexes would pass over time, like a bad pimple or excessive farting. Not really something she could claim as her work.

So that in laid the problem. A girl that calls herself a witch, but doesn’t really have the power to show it? Might as well paint a giant target on the forehead with a sign that said, “I’m delusional, please laugh at me!”

But things were going to be different this year! She was going to stand up for herself and she was going to prove she could do magic!

“Are you ready for school, Marinette?” A sweet voice, her familiar Tikki, asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s go!” She beckoned the ladybug-like fairy into her purse.

But immediately after leaving her parents bakery with a box of macrons to share, she was knocked off balance by a cyclist and dropped the box. Thirteen smashed macrons on the ground.

“This is an ill omen.” She stated gravely.

“Yes, but you still have seven good ones left in the box!” Tikki reassured.

Marinette smirked. “Then lets get to school before I spill them all!”

Only a minute later did she crash again, this time only breaking one cookie. The person she ran into was another girl, a student like her.

“I’m so sorry!” Marinette stated, helping the girl to her feet. “I’m so clumsy!”

“That’s alright clumsy girl.” Said the newbie. “I’m Alya.”

“I’m Marinette! You must be new here, right?”

“Yep! I’m starting in Miss Bustier’s class. How about you?”

“I’m in her class too!”

“Oh lucky break! I’m horrible with talking to new people on my own. Thanks for the ice breaker!” She laughed.

Marinette gave her a flat look. “Well, see if I ever purposely run into you again.”

Alya just laughed more. “You’re funny! Let’s sit together, and then you can give me the low down on the hierarchy of the class.”

“Hierarchy?”

“Yeah, like who’s popular, who’s at the bottom of the totem pole.”

“Oh that’s easy. I’m at the bottom!”

“No way! How? You’re so nice!”

“Well…” might as well bite the bullet. If she could tell the new kid first before someone else did, maybe she’d have a chance. “I’m sort of…a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Yeah…like…” She snapped her fingers and a small flame ignited on her thumb.

“Wow! That’s so cool! Can you teach me!?”

“Well…I’m not very good. I’m still learning.”

“Aren’t we all? I’m training to be a journalist, but I know I’m not good enough to work for any papers, except maybe the school paper. But I can teach you about inverted pyramids!”

“Sounds like a plan!” Marinette laughed. “But let’s get to class before we’re late on the first day!”

“Awesome! Day one and I already have a new best friend!”

—

Once they reached the classroom, Chloe let out a sigh of relief. She was queen here, and no one would say a thing to Adrien as long as she was around.

“This is your seat, Adrikins!” She gestured to the place right in the front row. “And I sit right behind you, so you can talk to me whenever you need to!”

“Much obliged, Chloe.”

“Oh! You want to see something hilarious?”

“You know I’m always up for a rip roaring good time!”

“Then watch!” She spat out her gum, and then held the wad out to Sabrina, who then placed the gum on the bench adjacent to Adrien. They they both started giggling.

“Why Chloe!” Adrien frowned at his longtime friend. “That’s low down, and dishonest. Why’d you do a thing like that?”

“It had to be done, Adrien. The girl who sits here is a practicing witch. We had to keep her in her place, or she’ll get too cocky and curse us all!”

“One of them spell casters?”

“Yep! A ‘bonafide witch’!” She put it in quotation marks.

“Well, I’ll be.” He knelt, and started to pick at the gum. “I’d think if you’d have a witch in your midst, you’d want to keep her happy, or else she’d hex you in revenge!”

“It was a joke Adrien! She doesn’t know any magic! She just thinks she does!”

“Ahem!” A small voice cleared her throat from behind him.

Adrien turned around to face a girl who was small in frame. She was adorable, with her black hair in pigtails, and a black dress full of a moving galaxy of stars. But her bluebell eyes shined with anger.

Adrien stood and raised the brim of his hat to her. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Yeah right, Clint Eastwood. Dealing with Chloe was hard enough, now I gotta deal with two of you!?”

“It really wasn’t—“

“First you steal my usual seat, and now you had to go and ruin my new one!”

“Please listen…”

“Forget it! Just—sit your chap-less ass over there and leave me alone!”

Adrien did as he was told, sliding into the bench next to another boy. Adrien sighed, resting his head on his hand.

“Tough break,” said the other boy. “What’s with the…get up?”

Adrien flicked his eyes over to his bench mate, a kid with glasses, headphones, and a red cap on. He didn’t have the gumption to reply with his usual vigor. “I’m a cowboy.”

“Oh.” Said the boy. “All the time?”

“Yep.”

“Oh…cool.”

Soon enough, the teacher arrived and called roll. Unfortunately, Adrien was too caught up in his gloom to realize what was happening, and his neighbor had to nudge him when his name was called.

“Pre-sent!” Adrien stood, raising his hand in the air.

The class laughed behind him.

Adrien sat back down, pulling his hat down to hide his face.

“Eager, are we?” Asked the other kid.

“Er, a wee, I reckon. Never been to school before. Never had any friends ‘cept Chloe.”

“Dude, that’s rough. Sounds like you need to make new friends! I’m Nino. Nice to meet you!”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Niño.”

“It’s Nino.”

“That’s what I said.”

Nino quirked his lip. “Dude, if you want to get in good with everyone, I’d make up with Marinette.”

“Who?”

Nino pointed at the girl across the aisle from him.

“The witch?”

“Aw, did Chloe call her that?”

“I mean, isn’t she one? She looks all magical like.”

“I mean…she’s got some slight of hand stuff, and she’s got some pretty good hunches, but I wouldn’t call her a witch.”

Adrien flicked the brim of his hat. “Well, I’ll be.”

“Seriously dude, you always talk like that?”

“Sure! Why wouldn’t I?”

“Are you like, from Texas?”

“No sir, native Parisan, born and raised!”

Nino squinted at him. “Then why…?”

“Just a pure bred Cowboy, don’t matter where you come from. It’s what’s in your heart.”

“Oh, he’s corny too.”

—

After school, Marinette stood at the steps of the school, the rain pattering against the sidewalk in a downpour. True, her house was just around the corner, but it was coming down pretty hard.

“If only I knew weather changing spells.” She lamented.

“You do! You can make it rain!” Said Tikki from her purse.

“Yeah, over someone’s head! But I don’t think that’s going to do us any good here.”

“Don’t look like it’ll let up soon, I s’pose.” Said a man’s voice from behind her.

Marinette hunched her shoulders and turned away from him.

“Aw shucks, I was lookin’ to patch things up, considering I didn’t make a mash with you back there.”

“If you’re here to tease me again, then you can right on your merry way.”

“I’m not here to give you a hard time, Little Lady. I promise, I was trying to take the gum off, not put it on. Chloe was the one responsible for that. I didn’t want to get on your bad side.”

“Why? Because I’m a witch?” She bit.

“Well you are, ain’tcha?”

She turned to face him, her lips thin. “I’m as much of a witch as you are a cowboy.”

He nodded, “That’s what I thought, darlin’. And I only meant I wanted to catch your good side, only on account I got not many friends. Chloe, and now Niño—“

“Nino.”

“That’s what I said.”

She smiled.

“And I don’t like to make enemies. Let’s start again, ah? I’m Adrien, Adrien Agreste.”

“Son of Gabriel Agreste.” She added.

“Ah, so you heard of me? Famously or infamously?”

“Alya mentioned it, actually. I’m a fan of your father’s work, as a designer. I didn’t recognize you from the ads.”

“Reckon you wouldn’t. My old man doesn’t let me wear comfortable clothes on set.” He smirked, “But your name, My Lady?”

“I’m Marinette.”

“Marinette. I like it. Like a doll.”

Now that the miscommunication was over, Marinette started to feel her chest warm at his presence. His manner of speaking made her felt safe. And he sure was cute!

“You know, I was wonderin’. If you’re a witch, why don’tcha got a big ole’ hat?”

“Oh,” she grew slightly solemn. “I did have one. But I lost it last time I went flying.” Then she winced, realizing he might not believe her.

“Flying? Like on a broomstick and everythin’?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that sounds mighty nice. Real nice. I wish I could ride a broomstick. I barely get to ride a horse! No where to hitch em in Paris! But a broom, why, you could just stand it up in a corner when you’re done!”

He wasn’t laughing at her. In fact, he looked genuinely interested. “I could take you sometime, out for a flight?”

“Would you? That’d be swell!” He beamed at her, setting her heart fluttering. “Here, since your hat is missing.” He took off his hat and placed it on her head, ever so carefully. “Can’t let you melt in the rain, Miss Witch.”

“Melt? Like the Wicked Witch of the West? Are you calling me wicked?”

“Never dream of it, My Lady! I told you I didn’t want to cross you. I don’t need no hexes. I left all my hexes in Texas.”

The look she gave him at that comment had him bowled over in laughter.

She couldn’t help but join him.

By time they collected themselves, a silver sedan pulled up to the curb. “Well, looks like my hoss is here. Keep the hat, Marinette. I looks mighty nice on you.”

“T-Thanks!” She stuttered.

“See you tomorrow, My Lady!” He called as he ran into the rain.

“T-tomorrow! Yes! I—wow, why am I stuttering?”

“I think I reckon!” Tikki chirped, from her bag.  

“Oh shush!”