Ok, I Am Officially DONE. I Haven't Seen This Show But There's So Much Amazing Fanart That I Must Write

Ok, I am officially DONE. I haven't seen this show but there's so much amazing fanart that I must write something. Like seriously, look at this! Fanart always sells the fandom. Hopefully the Miraculous fandom will forgive any OOC-ness or plot inconsistencies

It sounds like Chopin

"Make yourself at home, I'll be there in a minute."

He left her in his room before going downstairs to order some snacks for him and his good friend. Adrien had some school project that he was assigned to finish with Marinette, so the least he could do after leaving the planning to the more capable head is to make sure she's well fed.

As he opens the door to his room, he finds Marinette sitting at his piano, gliding her fingers over the smooth keys. She doesn't dare to press any and instead chooses to smile softly to herself for God knows what reason. He closed the door a tad more loudly, making her turn to him with her awkward, anxious smile. They stood like that for a moment before he forced a cough.

"What do you think?"

"M-me? Auhm, well, I don't really, It's beautiful, Adrien, the piano, but I had no idea you could play the piano, uhm, I just think thats.. neat."

"Neat?" He smiled at her words, but that didn't seem to ease her nerves and approaching her and leaning on the polished black surface didn't help either.

"I'm glad you like it. It's been a while since I played it, ehm, but my father insists that I practice every day."

"I'm, I'm quite sure you're good at it."

He smiles at her again and she jumps like she didn't expect it.

"Would you like me to play something for you?"

For some reason Marinette just kep staring at him, mouth parted, clearly wanting to say yes, but maybe staying silent because she didn't want to nag him.

"Scoot over."

She scooted to the very edge of the seat.

"Anything you'd like to hear?"

"Well, I, I don't really know much about classical music, but, I, listened to Chopin a few times, It's well, my grandmother can play a few songs, so maybe something from him?"

"Well, you really know what to pick, Chopin is, something."

"You don't have to if, if you don't want to."

"I do", he smiled, "I think I remember one that I used to like a lot"

His fingers brushed over the first keys before he breathed in and summoned the first notes. The room was soon filled with the sorrowful melody that could only be assigned to it's creator. Adrien closed his eyes, allowing himself to be led by his ears and hands. Just sounds, but arranged in such a way that pricked the heart of the listener.

Sorrow was Chopin's signature, after all.

Small hands, hands of a boy, on top of his mother's, playing the piano.

Adrien opened his eyes. The hands on the keys were only his. His heart jumped, but he kept playing, focusing harder.

He's lost a tooth last week. The kitchen still smells of apple pie. He's sitting in his mothers lap, watching carefully as his mother reads the mystical music sheets and translates them to music. He looks up to see her face only to catch her staring at him with a smile. Her smile. The kind that comes from the bottom of a person's soul. The smile of true happiness. The smile that would make even his father-

Wrong key.

He returned to the present, shaking.

Adrien, mama can't play right now.

Despite his controlled breath and slow blink, tears rolled down his face.

Don't be sad, we'll play some other time.

"Adrien?"

He covered his eyes with his hand. A sob escaped him. Marinette gently touched his shoulder and he turned to her, still wiping at the tears that just. Won't. Stop. Falling.

Marinette embraced him. He didn't register her at first until he felt warm hands caressing his hair. She didn't ask but he still felt the need to explain, at least partially, his sudden outburst.

"I miss her, Marinette, I miss her so much, but she's, gone."

"It's okay Adrien, let it out."

"I'm, I'm sorry, Ma-"

"There's nothing to apologize for, I understand."

Adrien kept on crying, letting out parts of the grief his quivering soul held all this time. The memories, the hopes and regrets all threatening to choke him with each new breath.

Marinette didn't speak, just held him tighter.

… [x]

Absolutely stunning

If you are still doing it, 💫

Okay, I was like: Imma write a drabble the way it’s supposed to be. I’m a pro.Spoiler: I didn’t, so this just turned out to be a weird oneshot. I got too much into it. Enjoy.Song: So Close - Jon McLaughlin“So close to reaching that famous happy end,Almost believing this one’s not pretend.”There she is, capturing something more than his view.Again, as if it took her no effort. But how? What was she doing here? Did anything other than her arrival matter anymore?Somehow, she looked more stunning than this morning, when they bumped into each other on the street. She made small steps trough the hall and he could see red shoes shyly showing their tips underneath her long dress. The dress swayed with each movement. From head to toe, the dress gradually turned from blue to red. Just the experience of looking at her seemed surreal.She noticed him, but then another man wanted her attention. She turned her head towards his black glasses and brown hair, then listened to his whispers and nodded until, finally, he walked away. Her gaze followed him before he got lost in the crowd.Her amber eyes met the black one again. She smiled. Resumed her pace towards him. Before he knew it, she was two feet away, the orchestra crept into the silence and he reached out.“Would you like to dance?” Pause. “Yes.”She gave him his hand and they both joined the dance floor.She placed her hand in his and spread her fingers across his shoulder. In return, his hand went underneath her shoulder blade and his eyes to hers.In the few steps that followed, the white-haired man noticed an unexpected security in her movements. It was almost as if the girl wasn’t the very klutz that spilt his tea. “You’re a pretty good dancer.”She looked away from the intense stare. An agonizing pause.“I thought I’d never see you again.”This statement made her tense and her eyes returned to his with a sheepish smile.“You’d want to?”The singer’s voice kept carrying them across the hall.“More than I’m willing to admit.”“Well, saying ‘yes’ is satisfying enough.”“Well, I guess that makes us both pleasantly surprised.”“Ehm, ‘pleasantly surprised’ doesn’t even begin to describe it”He chuckled.“What does?”Step, step, sigh.“I wish I could tell you.”He nodded in understanding. The conversation ended. They were both carried by the waves of the song into the waltz that was like a ship over the depths of each other’s eyes. Synchronised with the singer’s voice, like it was all planned outSo far, we are…The music started changing it’s pace.“Miss, if you don’t mind, I would like to try something”“I don’t.”“Hold tight.”Her expression showed how she read his intention and her grip tightened. His footwork became faster with each next step as they moved. She followed and her dress did too. The world became hazy. Guests. Marble pillars. Grand chandeliers. All gone.What remained was his smile and the bubble of laughter that wanted to escape her.It felt like-“Miss Bordeaux!”They stopped. The man with glasses from before stood as close as he had to be, looking displeased. Her partner gave them a confused glance. Glasses ignored him. His unpleasant attention was directed at the redhead. She turned to her partner and bowed.“I’m grateful for the pleasant dance.”“The feeling is mutual.”The brown haired man coughed and the girl hesitated before turning towards him. She rushed as she looked down at her feet.Her partner stood there for a few moments before walking towards the exit himself. Time to leave came too early. His friends will forgive him. As for the host, he’ll come up with an excuse.What about her?He’ll probably never see her again. Fate doesn’t give two chances so easily. Three is pretty much impossible. He knows how cruel it is. But…He can’t help but hope.Now he knows the name he yearned for all day.

WIP Ask Game

Her fingers are hesitantly pressed against the door. She swims through all the possible reasons of inviting her this late to his office. Sigh. Resign. Knock.

The familiar scent of paper and salt always managed to soothe Riza's nerves which were tense for multiple reasons. However, she wanted her unrest hidden, so she ignored the bookshelf covering the entire right wall and the crates and chests to her left. Her focus was in front of her instead, where two black boots rested on the messy desk, a chin rested on one arm. The captain's brow was furrowed toward the window, contradicting his relaxed manner. After a blink his eye jumped to hers and Riza almost drowned. She didn't have to hide anything, he knew.

"Good evening, sir."

His boots made a thud as their soles hit the floorboards.

"Evening, Hawkeye."

His coat, draped over his chair, and his shirt, unbuttoned to the unprofessional level, were enough for her to see that there was no emergency in sight.

"Sorry for disturbing you this late. I just wanted to talk, seeing how lately you..."

...have been avoiding me.

She knew how the sentence ended. Maybe that's why he didn't finish it. That, or he didn't want to confirm his doubts.

"I don't mind, sir. Talking to you has always been a pleasure."

Until you kissed me.

"Ditto."

They had this strange staring contest for a couple of breaths.

Ah, kisses. They have this power to turn details to unforgettable and make one aware of just how quickly things can get out of hand. But that didn't stop her from wondering just how much of a mess would the next kiss make. Kissed by the most terrifying man of the Amestrian seas. A thing to put in her resume.

It was strange how in the course of these few weeks she managed to become a member of the Hawk's crew, make her way through the ranks and gain the trust of the infamous Roy Mustang. Not only did she have his trust, but he had hers and that was probably the strangest thing that has happened.

"Let us proceed to the deck. I planned our conversation to be held there."

What am I doing?

He stood up and then opened the door for her.

I was a soldier

He closed the door behind her.

A soldier loyal to his Excellency

They made their way through the hall.

Maybe I still am

He opened the door.

Whatever I might be, he's a-

On the deck, not in the centre, but slightly closer to their left. There has been set a table for two. Candles, silky tablecloth and roses. There was Breda, playing the accordion at an acceptable proximity.

Riza stared at the sight for a moment, then turned to see how Captain's mysterious smirk turned into a mischievous grin. He held out his hand.

"Shall we?"

"Uhm, sir?"

"I truly hope you didn't regret coming with me when... I did that. I'll leave you alone and even let you go back to Amestris, if you desire so. But if not, please, dance with me tonight."

It took a moment of hesitation. A moment of that firm no, telling her the consequences of her actions. A moment and then she gave him her hand.

I'll become your accomplice

Roy's grin somehow widened and it seemed he wanted to show her all the jigs that he knew. His quick feet knew seemed to know every dance and even make up some of their own. Step by step and Riza did as well.

"You're a quick learner."

She saw an opportunity.

"Let's see how you fare."

She pulled him into the Amestrian waltz, the one that only the higher layers of society could dance with the exception of her, a bodyguard able to learn it at the Bradley estate. She took the lead while he was fumbling around on his feet, eye wide. She lead him through the waltz's changing pace, that barely matched Breda's efforts. Roy marvelled her skill and then noticed her smug smile. With the movement of a thief, he switched them so that now he was in the leading position.

"I think I got the hang of it."

The steps that he made were certainly elegant and connected, but lacked the elements that made the waltz. He simply couldn't replicate her fast steps.

He raised his soft smile to her and she let out a laugh.

"We should dance more often."

Sorry, it ends here. I can't be bothered to correct the mistakes right now so forgive me for that. Hope you enjoyed it. Thank @tomochingus for this beautiful art.

god they’re so in love

Writing horses in your WIP

We see them all the time - horses in fiction. And there is so much to learn about them that it can be a little overwhelming! But I work with horses a lot so I thought I’d be able to help some of you guys out by going through the basics you’ll need for writing. (by the way, I only ride English style. If somebody wants to do something similar for Western riding, by all means, fire away.)

Horses and ponies - whats the difference?

It’s the height. Horses and ponies are measured in hands - 1 hand = approx 4 inches. A pony is anything below 14.2hh,(hands), a horse is anything taller. Any pony smaller than 14hh would really only be suitable for children. A stockier 14.2hh could hold teens or small adults, but most teens and adults would probably ride horses. 16hh would be an average size.

Stallions, mares and geldings.

A Mare is a female horse. They can be quite moody sometimes - which they show by being uncooperative and putting their ears back. A Stallion is a male horse that has not been castrated. They can be very, very strong willed, and are typically not suitable for the novice rider. A gelding is a male horse that has been gelded/castrated, They often have a more relaxed, placid nature. A colt is a young male, and a filly is a young female. 

Breaking

Training a horse under saddle is called ‘Breaking.’ A horse is typically broken around ¾ years of age, once it has finished growing. Breaking correctly is a long and patient process - not something that your character can do in a few minutes.

Gaits

Horses have four gaits. Walk, trot, canter, and gallop - in that order of ascending speed. Nobody trots away from danger. if your characters are fleeing, they are in a flat out gallop.

The tack

For describing scenes - you’ll really only need to talk about the reins and the bit. Pressure on the reins (held by the rider) should slow the horse down. The horse feels this pressure acting through the bit. 

All you really need to worry about for the saddle are the stirrups, and the girth. The girth is holding the saddle on, and the feet go into the stirrups.

Learning to ride

Is difficult! Your character won’t be a pro withing a couple of days. Its hard on your legs, and learning to balance can be tricky too. Somebody who is very comfortable in the saddle is relaxed and secure, and able to deal with however the horse acts. The rising trot, when the rider goes ‘up and down’ in sync with the horses movement in the trot, can be particularly difficult.

Ability

The average gallop is around 45km/h. So, bear i mind that a horse cannot outrun a car or anything like that. Jumping ability varies - a heavier horse will struggle over a 90cm hedge, but a quality animal could easily pop 1.60m (but only with a good rider.)  If your character gallops the horse on hard ground, it could easily go lame - they aren’t invincible! 

Feeding

Horses don’t eat the same way as dogs or cats. They are grazers - meaning they need to eat little, and often. Your character giving them a Handel of oats once a day is really not going to keep them alive. They need forage - grass or hay - and a lot of it.

Portraying atmospheres

Showing how the horse is feeling can be a really great tool for expressing the ‘mood’ of a scene. 

Relaxed - A relaxed horse will have its ears back lazily, but not pinned against its head. It will likely doze off and close its eyes, maybe while resting a hind leg.

Alert - Horses are super smart animals, and many say that they have a sixth sense that lets them know when something is coming. An alert horse stands up straight, and has its ears pricked forward.

Upset - If something bad is happening, the horse won’t be in  good mood. It might pin its ears flat back against its skull, and bare its teeth. It will flick its tail irritably, and a horse will kick out or bite at something if its unhappy.

Horses as friends

Horses are deeply empathetic animals. They are herd animals too, and can form deep connections with their people. A horse who is fond of a person may whinny when they see them, and nuzzle their face and neck. A real trust can form between horse and rider. To show this as your story progresses, the horse will become pleased to be with the character, and the character’s nerves aboard the horse will begin to fade.

—–

If you have any more specific questions, feel free to message me. All of this is very basic, and I am more than happy to help some fellow writers. 

Happy writing, Aoife - @writingguardian