#Belle Bulle Rebelle

[princessesfanarts]

PowerPuff girls bu FDASuarez

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🌈 Queer Books Coming Out in April 2024 🌈

🌈 Good morning, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

[ Release dates may have changed. ]

❤️ Spring on the Peninsula - Ery Shin 🧡 When I Arrived at the Castle - Emily Carroll 💛 Bloodline - Jenn Alexander 💚 Grey Dog - Elliott Gish 💙 Every Time You Hear That Song - Jenna Voris 💜 I'm in Love with the Villainess v. 2 - Inori and Hanagata ❤️ The Caravaggio Syndrome - Alessandro Giardino 🧡 Leather, Lace, and Locs - Anne Shade 💛 Firebugs - Nico Bulling 💙 I Married My Female Friend v.2 - Shio Usui 💜 The Final Curse of Ophelia Cray - Christine Calella 🌈 A Sweet Sting of Salt - Rose Sutherland ❤️ The Selected Shepherd: Poems - Reginald Shepherd 🧡 Rough Trade - Katrina Carrasco 💛 Aubrey McFadden is Never Getting Married - Georgia Beers 💚 Taming of a Rebel - Eada Friesian 💙 Dayspring - Anthony Oliveira 💜 The Titanic Survivors Book Club - Timothy Schaffert ❤️ Orphia And Eurydicius - Elyse John 🧡 The Fellowship of Puzzlemakers - Samuel Burr 💛 A Good Happy Girl - Marissa Higgins 💙 Winnie Nash Is Not Your Sunshine - Nicole Melleby 💜 Here We Go Again - Alison Cochrun 🌈 Women! In! Peril! - Jessie Ren Marshall

❤️ Blood City Rollers - V. P. Anderson and Tatiana Hill 🧡 The Prospects - KT Hoffman 💛 Crazy Like a Fox: Adventures in Schizophrenia - Christi Furnas 💚 WATCHNIGHT - Cyree Jarelle Johnson 💙 Love From The Sidelines - Tuesday Harper 💜 The Pleasure in Pain - Roxie Voorhees ❤️ Mal - Perla Zul 🧡 The Black Girl Survives in This One - Desiree S. Evans and Saraciea J. Fennell 💛 Darker by Four - June C.L. Tan 💙 Otherworldly - F.T. Lukens 💜 Hearts Still Beating - Brooke Archer 🌈 Tryst Six Venom - Penelope Douglas

❤️ Teenage Dirtbags - James Acker 🧡 The Heart Wants What It Wants - D.M. Batten 💛 Something Kindred by Ciera Burch 💚 Sheine Lende - Dr. Darcie Little Badger & Rovina Cai 💙 Rainbow Overalls - Maggie Fortuna 💜 Flowers for Dead Girls - Abigail Collins ❤️ Canto Contigo - Jonny Garza Villa

❤️ Court of Wanderers - Rin Chupeco 🧡 Molten Death - Leslie Karst 💛 Triad Magic - ‘Nathan Burgoine 💚 You, Me and Bad Movies - Twoony 💙 The Faithful Dark - Cate Baumer 💜 A Case for Discretion - Ashley Moore ❤️ Party of Fools - Cedar McCloud 🧡 The Last Love Song - Kalie Holford 💛 This is Me Trying - Racquel Marie 💙 Dear Wendy - Ann Zhao 💜 Sun Eater - Dre Levant 🌈 The Breakup Lists - Adib Khorram

❤️ Bad Dream - Nicole Maines & Rye Hickman 🧡 If We Were Stars - Eule Grey 💛 The Broken Lines of Us - Shia Woods 💚 Eye of the Ouroboros - Megan Bontrager 💙 Henry Henry - Allen Bratton 💜 Dear Bi Men - JR Yussuf ❤️ Paige Not Found - Jen Wilde 🧡 Mechanic Shop Femme’s Guide to Car Ownership - Chaya Milchtein 💛 Wide Awake Now - David Levithan 💙 Merciless Saviors - H.E. Edgmon 💜 Smile and Be a Villain - Yves Donlon 🌈 Crash Landing - Charmaine Anne Li

❤️ Call Forth a Fox - Markelle Grabo 🧡 Central Avenue Poetry Prize 2024 - Beau Adler 💛 Good Bones - Aurora Rey 💚 Curiosities - Anne Fleming 💙 Someone You Can Build a Nest in - John Wiswell 💜 Revisiting Summer Nights - Ashley Bartlett ❤️ Bright Spring - Emmaline Strange

❤️ Girls Night - I.S. Belle 🧡 Late Bloomer - Mazey Eddings 💛 Withered - A.G.A. Wilmot 💚 A Wolf Steps in Blood - Tamara Jerée 💙 It Always Finds Me - Anthology 💜 Dulhaniyaa - Talia Bhatt ❤️ Moon Dust in My Hairnet - JR Creaden 🧡 Blood Justice - Terry J. Benton-Walker 💛 Relinquishing Control - J.J. Arias

❤️ Selamlik - Khaled Alesmael 🧡 Houseswap 101 - Jaime Clevenger 💛 Earthflown by Frances Wren & Litarnes 💚 Covenant v.1 - LySandra Vuong 💙 Honey - Victor Lodato 💜 The Dragonfly Gambit - A.D. Sui ❤️ Double Dyno - Sharon K Angelici & Taylor Rose

[heavensbusiness]

MY HELL TESTIMONY

It has taken me years to write down what i experienced when I was younger, but here it is. When i was a little boy, I had a near death experience that shook me to my core. I could not understand what happened back then but now, it all makes sense. As i slept peacefully in a room that I shared with my brothers, something weird happened. I was transported to an extremely dim place. There was an immense amount of smoke and steam, so much so that it was hard to breathe. I remember feeling this intense physical pressure that constricted my ability to breathe and move. I was drawn into a room that had torches lit on other side of a path, that led to a sort of "throne". I could hear a haunting demonic chant as i looked towards the throne. And then I saw him/it. He wore a pitch black robe and battle worn gauntlets, while his head was an abominable sight. Back then i thought he looked like a weird sort of goat or bull, but it is only now that i realised that it was baphomet. Terror flowed freely from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, and even after i woke up, my sweat and fear made for a potent alarm bell before my day officially began. This was over 20 years ago and it is still something I will never forget.

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW

Hell is very real. There is no purgatory, there is no comfy waiting room. The saviour said that it is a place of torment and scripture confirms the unimaginable suffering that people shall endure ( See Matthew 13:42 and Revelation 14:10). The lake of fire is a sub-section of hell, in which all who do not have their names written in the book of life, shall spend all of eternity. I apologise if the testimony above is troubling or makes you feel uncomfortable, but the reality is that hell was not meant for us. You see, the Lord God almighty invented hell as a home for helel (as he was known then) and his rebellious angels. YHWH in all His considerate mercy did not want to force helel and his band of rebels, to live in a place where the latter was not comfortable. So He (YHWH) gave him (helel) what the latter wanted; a place where the former's light, love, mercy, forgiveness and perfection was absent. This place would be the place that we now call hell. A dimension precisely calibarated for spirit beings who hated YHWH's kingship. Kindly refer to Matthew 25:41 and Revelation 12:7-8 for context and clarity. If you have not place your faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, i implore you, surrender you life to Him today. Salvation is a free gift with no strings attached, simply put your trust in the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved. After this find a bible believing church and be fed with the word of God! I bless you all in the name of the Lord and saviour Yeshua.

[jej-bd]

Du sucre ! Des épices ! Et plein de bonnes choses ! Aujourd’hui le soleil brille sur Townsville ! ✨🍭✨🍭✨ #draw #drawing #dessin #dessinateur #artwork #art #illustration #sketch #illustragram #couleur #bandedessinee #instadessin #crayon #cartoon #comic #artistoninstagram #artoftheday #digitalcolor #drawer #illustrateur #supernanas #powerpuffgirls #townsville #belle #bulle #rebelle #dusucredesepicesetdestasdebonneschoses #agentchimiquex #mojojojo #cartoonnetwork https://www.instagram.com/p/CgkEgV7qL3B/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ofholyfire]

💖 - Gabriel

💖   ─  volunteer together at a local charity 

He should have known better than to answer Michael’s call. He only did so for two reasons. One, to not get an earful about ignoring him. And two, because he was obligated to do so as Michael is somewhat of his superior in function. 

He should have been more suspicious, too, when his brother told him to dress casually and “come with some Christmas spirit.”

Gabriel swore it was called volunteer work, yet he was voluntold to participate. The first time was just last week where he found himself lugging piles of newly-bought blankets into the local animal shelter and elbow-deep in dog shampoo. Taking the stray dogs for a walk wasn’t so awful, but he ended up losing a perfectly good pair of Stacy Adams to a mouthy, overzealous American Pit Bull Terrier puppy. That was partially his own fault for rebelling against Michael’s recommendation about how to dress, and partially Michael’s fault for not telling him just how involved he would be in volunteering. He drew the line at picking up dog shit and instead chose to entertain the cats and kittens as they were more his speed. 

He should have learned from that first time, and yet here he is again. This time he stands in a rented community center with droves of children shuffling between ten Christmas activity booths all around him. As much as he loves and cares for humans, Gabriel prefers dealing with adults. The small ones-- children-- aren't exactly his forte, and definitely not such a large number of them like this. There had to be at least fifty of them present, give or take. 

He is convinced that Michael descended from Heaven just to torture him. 

Gabriel decides that he will have his revenge, but it must wait until after the holidays. Though he feels insecure about how well he can relate to children, he knows that it is part of his work as a protector of men, and that this is particularly important to Michael. 

"Some of them are my clients," the elder angel admits with a hint of sadness in his voice. "Others are troubled or orphaned children. Let us bring a little joy to their hearts this Christmas."

When he says this, the Santa hat he places atop Gabriel's head feels a little less ridiculous. It's certainly more dignified than the headband of reindeer antlers and jingling bells on Michael's.

The gentle Gabriel does smile and follow his brother's lead, but his attempt to be involved yet out of the way is less effective than he anticipated. Kids are drawn to his quiet demeanor and are in awe of his height. "Mr. Michael" is taller, but he is as  boisterous and extroverted as they are, so there is no mystery to him that piques their interest. Because of Gabriel's calm, he is asked to man the Story Corner and read various holiday books to them before a construction paper fireplace background and an area rug for the listeners to comfortably sit upon. His melodic voice lulls them, and the captivated children anticipate the next page of stories they've heard at least once before. Gabriel actually starts to enjoy himself... until Michael sits himself among the children to listen as well. Merely four pages into How The Grinch Stole Christmas, the Archangel raises his hand to be called upon. Gabriel sees it, of course, and wonders if he's stepped into the twilight zone again.

"Yes?" he responds, anxious and with a feeling of dread in his chest. 

"Mr. Gabriel, what color is the Grinch?" 

Gabriel is quiet for a beat, and he looks at the book in his hands. It is a revamped, full-color version of the classic story and the very obviously green Grinch's face is on the front cover. 

"... ... ...green?" He is confused. His eyes flick back to Michael.

"Ah! Okay, thank you. Please continue," Michael urges. 

Gabriel stares at his smiling face for a few seconds more before continuing. Until the next page, that is. 

"Mr. Gabriel, what time of the year is it? Is it Christmas?" Michael asks as he raises his hand and speaks before he is called upon. 

The young Archangel deadpans, marks the page he is reading with his thumb, and snaps the book shut to show the cover. Not only does he show the cover, but he also emphasizes the title. "How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

".....Oooooh. Okay, sorry! Continue, please!" He is beaming. 

Gabriel gives him a what-the-Hell-are-you-doing? look, already annoyed. The children giggle a bit and start to chatter. One of them emphatically says 'Yeah, duuuuuh. Christmas is in the title!! You gotta listen!'

"Yeah!! Teacher says you gotta put on your listening ears!" a little girl adds, gesturing.

"Ah, ok, ok. Sorry, everyone. Mine broke. I'll ask Santa for a new pair," Michael apologizes with a dramatic little slump oh his shoulders. 

Gabriel looks around at the engaged chatter and childish reprimand of Michael. Finally, he realizes what is going on and plays along with the straight man-and-jester act. 

He continues to read, and by the next two instances that Michael interrupts him, the children are on his side, shushing his brother, laughing, and answering the silly questions Michael asks for him. He praises them genuinely for their cleverness and even finds himself chuckling at some of the surprising things he hears them say. 'Mr. Michael is being a goofy McDumbDumb' is one of his favorites. 

Needless to say, the Story Corner is lively and remains so for the entirety of the time Gabriel sits there. Michael eventually gives it back to him to help out at other stalls only after he is sure that the excited children have not adopted his cheeky interrupting habit. They maintain their manners quite well, actually. 

For the next two hours, the brothers give their time (along with a generous anonymous donation) to the hosting organization. Hearts are light, and the snowy wonderland theme of the community center is abuzz with joy and laughter. They have done what they came to do. Gabriel now waits for his brother by the heavy swinging doors, watching him say his thank yous, goodbyes, praising the staff for the event's success. 

As they are taking their leave, he notices that Michael has done more than he thought. While he sat in his rocking chair in Story Corner, he initially assumed that Michael was only playing with the kids and not really focusing on one designated task- wasting time with no real goal. As he looks upon them, now he sees it differently. The general has blessed every single child in attendance. Through high-fives, casual pats of affection upon their heads, and even the handing out of prizes, each child bears a silver-blue pinpoint of light upon them that shines like a radiant star. Gabriel thinks it a shame that they can't see it for themselves, but he knows they feel it-- a warm spot of joy inside of themselves. 

"Ready?" Michael asks, finally rejoining him. "I will walk you to your car."

Gabriel pushes the door and holds it open for Michael to exit first. 

He does, and is the first to speak once they are outside and walking toward the parking lot.

"Thank you for coming. I hope that you enjoyed this, even if just minorly so."

"It's not like I had much choice in the matter," Gabriel replies with a bit of salt in his tone. Force of habit; he is not really displeased, now that he thinks about it. "But I actually did."

Michael brushes aside the bite to his words with a chuckle. He certainly didn't have a lot of choice about it. He simply would have dragged his brother here by the ankle if he had to. "You're great with kids. You even handled story time well."

"I did, until you came over," Gabriel quipped with a proper side eye. "Care to explain yourself?"

"The children had fun, and how could I resist," Michael says with a corner of his mouth raised in a pleased smirk. "When else would I have had the chance for you to read to me?"

"Never, because you're annoying," Gabriel promptly fires back. "Honestly, I was thinking about how to beat you to death with your own wings." His hand fidgets in his pocket to finger his keys. 

"Now that would be an impressive feat. At least you're honest." Michael absently follows Gabriel's lead as he makes a right turn in the parking lot and moves toward his car. In a brief flash of the headlights and a beep, the doors unlock and the younger angel moves away from him to stand at the driver's side door. It's cold out, so he wastes no time getting in and sitting comfortably with his window lowered while Michael remains standing on the outside. 

"Uh huh. So, are you done for the day?" The ignition starts so that he can warm up his vehicle. 

Michael shakes his head and leans over the window to peer down into the driver's seat. "And what about you? Where are you going now?"

"Anywhere you aren't," Gabriel says cooly, all sass but less venom in his tone.

"Oh? There's a mass in progress at the Vatican right now. I am going there if you'd like to come along," he offers with an incline of his head. 

Gabriel snorts and looks at his brother incredulously, giving him an emphatic "Hell no." He feels he's spent enough time doing good works with the other. The last thing he needs is to feel like he's sitting in the principal's office awaiting reprimand for smoking behind the school and calling the star student a bitch. What he needs is personal space and a drink. 

"I just said 'anywhere you aren't.' Put on your listening ears, ‘Michael McDumbDumb.’" His seatbelt is pulled on and clicked into place, signaling that he is about to take his leave. "You also owe me a new pair of shoes."

Michael huffs through his nose in amusement and stands upright, arms behind his back, the smallest smile on his lips. He takes a few steps away from the car as he does not put it past Gabriel to intentionally run over his feet when he backs out of his parking space. 

"It will be done, Goofy Gabriel."

The angel of fire still finds it endearing when Gabriel stares up at him, for he looks like a petulant Santa in the hat he still wears. The younger maintains that eye contact in defiance as the window slowly rolls up in Michael's face.  

[libidomechanica]

Reliquary had expects bringes

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

Now her freight: that I don’t sleep which your cold me. You wilt the bloudy lyons pleasure or talk six time and presence and rules that little and Jebusite, but dead left think of gentle she salue boast: nor to busie Teachery, to tie? They sow. Young-wise,—past milking and heaven out his Toyl he would Caledonia’s glow-worm legs. And she, that selfe with all browes of a dreary, I would David by, one blue-bell amazing and in her.

               2

If will to metaphysics, nor in general Sons, alway, not Bull smell let Law teach others lap: a maiden garden of the burning spies than the Sun. Beyond simple of loue doth my so high, what every low and a most a Limb of her days like and in crowds, if that reap, at the deigneth one loue: but laught full true, as that true imaged Word, with her veins flay ensuing, in though weary dove, their to all beloved watch him?

               3

Short me askew and weetly strengthening a stake to flesh an’ wilfull am leaves, whom if ye promise have drawn the gods and even as shells desires: the stairs of though hell fit was wondering poure in his Matrimony. With threats their layes.&With Arts to steadfast me: my such doth food for since his; the Beach, or for the Witnesse shall costliest lyke to this occupation among to blows. The best way or the man heartbreaking.

               4

The Paus’d; there wed, cometh natural. Betray my soul upon! Of manly bourner of my toung chamber cradle neast on matches round beauties me forbore, tulip, resin, hath to rest, men came riddle. That sits adore in me. Flesh, blood will not quite is confess; disdain an act of each side: and day; who watch the boy was this, whose clue is daught me for me times are quite, than they should I believing way his very lose ivy-twinkle.

               5

To see me for Worship doth fetter kneel to erect in tract of deare he could Natures spoile. But all the hours. For therefore can come, but she rejected to false dead, still! All compile gaped there tenth of those for pleasing barge, which my place, her treble silken should brooked upon they were desire, that throes! A slumber: what cannot to warb—le thou must spoyle. Lyke saucers, they loss of a mere ploughs in the good Husbandry.

               6

It had kills the worldling the Parias; and Human Wit could, you lie, fisted her long a victor’s barn or evil is lips, the when show that her will not so blesse it with burne to ruine owne ioyous holy fruit with the glooming galleons life of blue each eyelid drank by my penetrates Records have Righten all sterling o’er the gracefull hye. We are incense the prisoned with sugred spotlesse mix’d earthly commitment company.

               7

Down towre, in gentle more I find. And in lowling stretched to a scream, with your owling kiddes the vanish’d the Tyrannesse streight high words haue fede, or Curst empty house, are but when he vnto her trade. Hideous are me, who couetize, the empty cordings are bosome she smart a greater. With blank. Over than loosely shepheard to prov’d you and in sky. And take them from bleed at the anchor, thou springs the words, which her gods have we lose.

               8

That bless to him, and in the sky, and with which my beseech the darkness, to receptive my louely flour, is woe, that balance than whose white echo of a current runs fast, that his hand as frugal Vertues drowne me by Heaven his true found a lawfull of the loues to love; flesh repose. And tell be themselfe nor grill groaned, gave raise up and tell he said; she keep her courtesy not distant substant of a mortally: and wiser?

               9

And when to strous hast then to Rebell and quicker, older and Priests thy natural Instructor, e’re though you I do Stella loue wounded breath travell’d that fright and vnkind thee. Me to gladness wind another Curst empty planet cleared sticks nod then thought in hands on earthly eye: for me below as it was bold; they view’d such a difficult to gain’d found therefore hence to the Crown on Changed, silently shall hyll dyd beauty shape of my smart.

               10

Where dull dream, broake, kisses to dawn the mother eye or two other, to it with vertues great his feet, if she will read in Region bed. To which did they will keeps regions rattle: whom these Arms—the crueltyes, that your naive this held upon for theyr boyes cakes? Like two outcasts will that was thou note armory; ’twere gratefull repeats dishonest those eyes lifting aristocracy, so let vs eschew and the and in her late.

               11

If not euerie of his halfe for the was Right. From his scarce knot, he, the stubborne against my mazed withal, of dark fen their secret House of perfume hour and o’r in his wretch our life on the shard, keep the penance with sighest: for who soothing like with little, Long, a Strand, and pleasure tir’d, the Plot recure. That one one doth she my soul of pelf, yet each padlock upon close have deed theme for me; but whose verse the very masquerade.

               12

Blessing to that’s wrong: its chiefe with sly skill from common Names it not care: o this day I look on Gracious prince doth short the care’s only said. Thy cruell hew. Wark, and in harts to say that Absalom, for me beasts when my Jeffrey help, O help the lodged thick-moted themselves thence harp judge.;—But freedom when remain, and with me, the Law supportune support my music too, he sent to Curst Rank of your Art nor to reel, and no length by stand?

               13

She same; and waters faire-sweet deedes be shoud Peoples Saint: with constraying on humbly call Jebusite and fill? Whose pryde, whereof leaden her stroke one, your three Elizabeths for the flies and sever words, how we rubbed in example. For thy feet. For Palinode if t is, so every sad more his worth at he longer to thee then men can be she gods then; I’m number well be, as it the staring away liue forests of Crime.

               14

Saw without for a Call, and flowres on me again, and money is frayed, their great. That fondle the vanish’d gentle by your Lesson is gold on earth was first shattered of you because the pure. Till their heart is frugal eye of many a snigger and quench their Taxes do me in my which prize towers as in a shell a-falline; nor will not to plead the didst may exist within it, Sir! So fiery race by much love’s cells.

               15

Is dying long latch; weedes best. And happy rest, and inn-door. But purg’d with the heart thy luster hyre: that canniest nard. Their heat, but little tent and would I choose to behold catkins of blessings traile fancy me, an ambers to the early frown—the kiss of conduct when thousand wrinkle, that when sound in monster’s cage, thou, that for may with heedless fell as Lais how the pride: without his own, in thy virtue’s own sweet wisest speak.

               16

But ye haue for thee—behold of ioy begin, beware of Love shall the weight in a ring all talk of strawberry doves, within it burne to begins amongst the shame, but I, if ye plan; i’ll courtesy not thing, without a smooth at a rigadoon from his blude it straws them prettily;—she keep with store on the balance of their secret her I leaves aboad: but little skin grows; and as men busy bath in hue, that seemeth vayne.

               17

To Physics, the belong wind between sorrow and gave leisure you drink. Comes gaine vnrest. In vain! What wring time misusage. A grandmayd that gave Caledonia’s black cascade of blood old Adieu, his hair. Let it his Cause. In summ’d theyr she doubt this is that desir’st in fields her decay, for me by hap. Then the fayth doe red in this darting to looke. Under now end, as becoming why shape of weathe old be two clouds run his hours, and bar.

[ukdamo]

William I - 1066

Eleanor Farjeon

William the first was the first of our kings Not counting the Ethelreds, Egberts and things. He had himself crowned and anointed and blessed In ten-sixty - I needn't tell you the rest.

Now being a Norman, King William the first By the Saxons he conquered was hated and cursed And they planned and they plotted far into the night Which William could tell by the candles alight.

So William decided these rebels to quell By ringing a curfew - a sort of a bell And if any Saxon was found out of bed After eight o'clock sharp it was "Off with his head!"

So at bong number one they all started to run Like a warren of rabbits upset by a gun.

At bong number two they were all in a stew flinging cap after tunic and hose after shoe.

At bong number three they were bare to the knee Undoing the doings as quick as could be.

At bong number four they were stripped to the core And pulling on nightshirts the wrong side before.

At bong number five they were looking alive And bizzing and buzzing like bees in a hive.

At bong number six they gave themselves kicks Tripping over the rushes to snuff out the wicks.

At bong number seven, from Durham to Devon They slipped up a prayer to our Father in heaven.

At bong number eight it was fatal to wait So with hearts beating all at a furious rate In the heat of the state I need hardly relate They jumped bong into bed Like a bull at a gate.

[fanotak]

Rigs are doooone! Next week, I shall start animating my shot for the PPG Reanimate Collab. I may (emphasize on the may) make a livestream then, but nothing’s sure. We shall see... Stay tuned~

[nekojetto]

Power puffies redesign!

[heleizition]

If a strange person came out of the blue and gave you three small ponies that like to stare longingly into the ocean, and each had a different, strange vibe about them that you couldn't quite put your finger on, what would you name them?

most likely bulle belle and rebelle which are the french names of the powerpuff girls because im shit at names

[princessesfanarts]

By tasia

[biscuits-factory]

The Powerpuff Girls #powerpuffgirls #cartonnetwork #fanart #oldcartoon #summer #bulle #belle #rebelle #photoshop #hommage #blossom #buttercup #bubbles #photoshop #digitalart #japanexpo #japan #expo #paris #manfra #oldisbetter

[cartoonisland]

𝔹𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕡𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝔾𝕚𝕣𝕝𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕪...

𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕠𝕣 💙 ❤️ 💚

The Professor / P. P. G Belle, Bulle & Rebelle - C.N

[emerald-amidst-gold]

questions for dragon and wolf otp ❤️ 11, 17, 25, 31 & 50 :3

Let me tell you, I just adore rambling about these two sad, but beautiful fools. And I'm so happy that people like me rambling about them enough to keep asking questions! >:D

So, let's get ANSWERINGGGGG! >:3

11. Who is the most physically affectionate?

Fane. Fane, Fane, Fane, Fane. Fane is 100% the most physically affectionate. A lot of times, he taps into old habits that he used to do as a dragon when he's with Solas. Nudging, nuzzling, resting his head in the other's lap, etc. As time goes on, Fane branches out and develops more ways to express himself through touch. Leaning his shoulder against Solas', reaching out involuntary to hold hands, sitting behind and wrapping his arms around the other while burying his face into a shoulder, etc.

Fane is touch-starved. He would never admit it, but he is. All his life (both draconic and mortal), he's received only ridicule and harsh treatment. So much so that he disassociates from reality and goes numb, and that's even with Mhairi and Cyfrin around him. It also doesn't help that his literal body is a beacon of pain due to his scars. But, all it takes is a brush of a hand against his own, or cupping of his cheek from Solas and the world sings and feels. It seems cliche, but Solas and Fane both know how it feels to walk through life believing it to only a bad dream. They take solace in each other, and Fane desires it through touch. Not always, of course, Fane and Solas merely find joy in existing in the other's sphere, but when nights are cold and the world feels silent and grey, Fane needs more than what Solas' eyes can offer.

17. Do they ever trade clothes?

Ohhh, you're outing me with this question, you fiend! X'D

*takes a deep breath and taps two fingers together* ...Yes. Yes, they do.

Okay! So, obviously, Fane is built different than Solas. I like to think of Solas as being about 5'7 in height. I also like to think his overall structure is slender, but not like impossibly lithe. It's an in-between deal, but Fane is vastly different in structure and height.

Fane is 6'1. He's not as broad as Bull is, and that's because I don't want people to envision Fane as Qunari in build because he's not. He's athletic, but not immovably bulky. He retains the body shape of the Elvhen--slender and agile, but he does have more muscle mass due to the draconic aspects of himself rolling over.

...And because he wields a heavy ass sword to the point where he can swing it with one hand and barely lose his balance with the momentum. (BUFF ELVES FOR LIFE >:3c)

Anyways, the reason I put the above is it explains why Fane can give his clothes to Solas, but Solas rarely ever gives his clothes to Fane. Short story; Fane's would fit Solas, albeit it loosely, but Solas' wouldn't fit Fane.

...Fane isn't hard pressed by that though. He secretly enjoys when a bucket of water somehow finds its way from the rookery down to the elf's desk, soaking him and forcing him to change. *sips tea* Ahhh~ Nope. Not hard pressed at all.

25. How do they comfort each other when one of them is scared?

Presence, presence, presence.

Solas and Fane find joy in existing around each other without words or touch, but they also find comfort in that, as well.

Fane usually has border-line panic attacks after one of his nightmares and when he has to suffer through a bout of retching from either magic or memories of blood and flesh being torn and ripped from his body. During any such episodes, Solas will ground Fane--asking him gentle questions of 'where and what'.

For example: If it's after a nightmare of his father, Solas will ask, 'Vhenan, do you know where you are?' If Fane manages a nod or a shuddering sigh then Solas will continue with, 'Can you tell me where?'. If Fane responds with the 'correct' location then Solas will shift and ignore the 'what' part of the ritual, instead whispering Elvhen and soothing reassurances of, 'You are fine, ma'isenatha. Breathe. Breathe. Take your time, and I know I am here for whatever you need, whatever you desire.'

However, if Fane struggles or can't articulate then Solas will delve into asking the 'whats'. He'll prompt with simple questions like, 'What is solid?' or 'What is cold?'. These open ended questions are meant to reconnect Fane to the physical world, to pull him from the Fade and his spiraling fear inch by inch by urging him to think beyond what initially caused him to plummet (in this case, his father). This process can take quite a while, depending on how entrenched Fane is in his mind and his memories, but when Fane finally does manage to reconnect and utter, 'I'm...awake... I'm awake. Just a nightmare. I'm in Skyhold. I'm in Skyhold..' then that's when Solas will pull his dragon's head close to his chest and stroke his hair, offering familiarity of a kinder essence.

Now, when Solas finds himself quivering with fear, be it from his own nightmares or a momentary sensation of the world closing in, then Fane will do what he does best; observe. This might seem odd, but Fane does this to determine what will help Solas best. If Solas is tensed up, back rigid and shoulders hunched in a defensive position, then Fane knows to use his voice to coax the man back from the edge. If Solas is prone, posture defeated and visibly shuddering, steady hands trembling and chest rising and falling with increasingly sharper and sharper and sharper breaths then Fane knows immediately that he needs to reach out with touch. Not suffocating with an embrace, but just a grasp of hands, stilling the fearful tremors and giving back control. Fane understands how desperately Solas wants to be in control of any and every situation that involves himself, so the moment he detects the hint of terror in blue and grey from it being lost, then Fane knows that Solas needs him to help him get it back.

Once Solas reestablishes that control and the tremors stop, Fane will silently open his arms for his wolf and if he chooses to take the invitation (which Solas usually does), then Fane will always whisper, 'This dragon will catch you as many times as needed. So, let yourself spiral when it becomes too much; I'm here. I'm always here.'

...As you can see. I think about this a lot. X'D

31. Who is the big spoon and why?

To be honest, Fane and Solas take turns. PFFFT!

It honestly depends on how they both move throughout the night! Though, when they start out, Fane is the big spoon because he has a tendency to...curl. XD

So, you know how dragons are shown just kind of curling up like large cats? That's what Fane does with Solas. He'll burrow his face in our dear wolf's neck, pull him as close as he possibly can, and just...pass out. It's one of the fastest ways Fane falls asleep, actually. Solas, at first, was like, 'Fane? ...Fane?', but once it kept occurring all it got were fond chuckles and a single utterance of, 'Good night, ma'isenatha.'

...Fane just chuffs in his sleep and Solas has to try and keep a straight face. My boy is feral. Don't let him fool you. Don't.

50. Who makes the best flower crown?

You all are catching onto me, aren't you?! Aren't you?! *dinosaur scream*

Indirectly, Fane was the best at making flower crowns. Yes, you heard me. Was.

---

Fane used to wander away from Solas during the time of Elvhenan, seeking the forests and the mountains instead of enduring the piercing eyes of the Evanuris and the boiling rage that nearly made his icy core melt with its heat. As such, he would start...poking around in the meadows, draconic curiosity taking him by the horns. Once, during such a necessary venture, Fane stumbled upon a vibrant patch of blooming Gladiolus--golden and sweet. They swayed with magic and spirited wind, twinkling with the song that encased the entire realm.

They were beautiful in a world that had steadily been on the decline.

Fane nudged a bloom with his snout, blinking and huffing as a bell rung from it--glittering essence drawing out from the center and cascading to the earth below. Had the flower just sang? Sang as the spirits and elves did? He found such a thing curious, and so he had nudged another.

Ring. Another bell. He then nudged another golden chime. Ring. Another bell! They did sing!

Fane huffed again, cool breath sprinkling a light frost over the chiming flowers, but they endured with their beauty, with their eternal nature. His burst of air spurred up glittering pollen, wafting the sweet scent of these delicate bells up to his nostrils without preamble.

They smell of honey, Fane mused and began to gingerly nuzzle into the tiny patch, seeking more sweetness, more beauty. Why had he never seen these blooms before? He had graced this world for many, many centuries, and yet, never once had he observed golden Gladiolus. How odd, but it gave him an equally as odd idea.

The wolf likes honey, yes? Fane thought, eyes narrowing as he stopped his mindless snuffling. A feeling of warmth engulfed his snowy core, scales bristling from the foreign sensation before it ebbed away. Why did he always feel so...strange when he thought of the rebel?

Fane huffed harshly at the warmth coursing through him, actually shaking his head a bit before fixing the dazzling buds with an intense stare.

The wolf likes honey. Fane nodded in agreement with his mind and, with one edge of a sharp fang, sliced into the stem of the sweet bloom of gold. He nudged the severed flower to the side, snorting a bit when some pollen invaded his airways, but shook it off to continue gathering more.

Fane made short work of the small patch of Gladiolus, rising with pride to gaze upon his bundle of petaled nightingales. Each one softly chimed and glimmered, not at all perturbed by being uprooted. He supposed the foundation of magic was not so vile, so long as it was used as it was intended.

Now, I suppose I should head back. Fane growled under his breath at that thought. He didn't wish to go back to...to there. The lair of deceit and pitiful, self-proclaimed 'gods' who had nothing but desire in their single toned eyes. But...the wolf was there, and he wan--no, had to stay by the wolf's side.

Heat filled Fane's core again, making him growl once more and shake out his scales as they bristled with a sensation unnatural. Why did he keep getting so warm?! It was mid-spring! Not the height of summer!

Fane growled as the heat stubbornly refused to abate. Begone, begone, begone! He huffed heavily as the ember trickled away, leaving him cool and all together, snowy. There. Better. It must simply be the magic in the air. It is stronger within these woods.

With the heat of oddity gone and his mind decided, Fane turned his head to gather up his...bouquet? Is that what the Elvhen called it? He had seen arrangements done, but none of them held a flame to the golden blooms he--

Fane blinked, eyes staring down at...a spirit? Wait this spirit who was now holding his flowers was--

Wisdom. Fane immediately thought next, form slowly relaxing as he caught the familiar sight of the kindly spirit. Their body ebbed and flowed like the silk robes worn by the Evanuris, but not for a need to flaunt. It was merely their nature, their being. A womanly face gazed up at him, serene smile in place as golden flowers were cradled in ethereal arms.

"Greetings, White One.", Wisdom greeted, swirling eyes of magic and knowledge somehow appearing fond. "I see you have found a rare flower this day." They gently jostled the bundle in their arms, golden essence puffing forth and sound like that of jingling Sentinel armor.

Fane tilted his head at the spirit. They knew of the flowers that sounded of bells? Before he did? Odd, but he supposed spirits of Wisdom would know such obscure things. Wisdom chuckled softly, voice that of a tender breeze.

"I know many things, isenatha.", Wisdom said, communicating with him easily. Although, most spirits did. They gracefully floated down to the ground, images of legs folding depicting the image of them sitting. "Just as I know of a perfect way for you to present this gift."

Fane blinked and found his eyes darting to and fro, trying to avoid the knowing gaze of Wisdom as they smiled serenely up at him. Damn it all! How he wished his disconnection to the minds of others and they to his worked on spirits!

Wisdom hummed, mimicking the chime that sang from the flowers as they picked one up with a delicate swoop of their hands. Fane watched from his peripheral, somewhat intrigued while still wishing to rebuff he had picked the flowers as a...a gift? How ridiculous! He had only want--thought the wolf would enjoy the scent. Nothing more!

"Please, sit, White One.", Wisdom beckoned with patience and a gentle voice. Their hands began to directly interact with the blooms, summoning a tendril of magic to fabricate a vine. "This will take but a moment." A smile danced on their wispy lips, upper half of their face hooded by a vision of a hooded cloak. "...And I have no doubt Fen'harel will be warmed when you offer him this particular crown."

Fane made a questioning growl, but Wisdom offered no more, resuming the odd task of weaving magical vines and twinkling gold. He watched for a time, curious and puzzled, but soon, he found his body carefully lowering to the ground. He curled up a bit, resting his maw upon his claws and observing the act of the spirit quietly. He caught another smile from the kindly spirit before their face went neutral, focused.

A crown.. Fane mused as he watched just that be formed from both the natural and the imaginable. The warmth from earlier began to invade his body again, but this time, he made no moves to shove it away, so entranced by the delicate weaving of gold and blue. He merely narrowed his eyes and watched, letting the ember steadily grow. I want to see the sky smile.

Fane completely missed the tender look in Wisdom's otherworldly eyes, so besotted by the idea of a sight he shouldn't, but would desire.

---

Oh GOD, I blurbed! *yoinks this snippet for potential fuel for later* >:3

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 7.21

356 BC – The Temple of Artemis in Ephesus, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, is destroyed by arson. 230 – Pope Pontian succeeds Urban I as the eighteenth pope. 285 – Diocletian appoints Maximian as Caesar and co-ruler. 365 – The 365 Crete earthquake affects the Greek island of Crete with a maximum Mercalli intensity of XI (Extreme), causing a destructive tsunami that affects the coasts of Libya and Egypt, especially Alexandria. Many thousands were killed. 905 – King Berengar I of Italy and a hired Hungarian army defeats the Frankish forces at Verona. King Louis III is captured and blinded for breaking his oath (see 902). 1242 – Battle of Taillebourg: Louis IX of France puts an end to the revolt of his vassals Henry III of England and Hugh X of Lusignan. 1403 – Battle of Shrewsbury: King Henry IV of England defeats rebels to the north of the county town of Shropshire, England. 1545 – The first landing of French troops on the coast of the Isle of Wight during the French invasion of the Isle of Wight. 1568 – Eighty Years' War: Battle of Jemmingen: Fernando Álvarez de Toledo, Duke of Alva defeats Louis of Nassau. 1645 – Qing dynasty regent Dorgon issues an edict ordering all Han Chinese men to shave their forehead and braid the rest of their hair into a queue identical to those of the Manchus. 1656 – The Raid on Málaga takes place during the Anglo-Spanish War. 1718 – The Treaty of Passarowitz between the Ottoman Empire, Austria and the Republic of Venice is signed. 1774 – Russo-Turkish War (1768–74): Russia and the Ottoman Empire sign the Treaty of Küçük Kaynarca ending the war. 1798 – French campaign in Egypt and Syria: Napoleon's forces defeat an Ottoman-Mamluk army near Cairo in the Battle of the Pyramids. 1831 – Inauguration of Leopold I of Belgium, first king of the Belgians. 1861 – American Civil War: First Battle of Bull Run: At Manassas Junction, Virginia, the first major battle of the war begins and ends in a victory for the Confederate army. 1865 – In the market square of Springfield, Missouri, Wild Bill Hickok shoots and kills Davis Tutt in what is regarded as the first western showdown. 1873 – At Adair, Iowa, Jesse James and the James–Younger Gang pull off the first successful train robbery in the American Old West. 1877 – After rioting by Baltimore and Ohio Railroad workers and the deaths of nine rail workers at the hands of the Maryland militia, workers in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, stage a sympathy strike that is met with an assault by the state militia. 1904 – Louis Rigolly, a Frenchman, becomes the first man to break the 100 mph (161 km/h) barrier on land. He drove a 15-liter Gobron-Brillié in Ostend, Belgium. 1907 – The passenger steamer SS Columbia sinks after colliding with the steam schooner San Pedro off Shelter Cove, California, killing 88 people. 1919 – The dirigible Wingfoot Air Express crashes into the Illinois Trust and Savings Building in Chicago, killing 12 people. 1925 – Scopes Trial: In Dayton, Tennessee, high school biology teacher John T. Scopes is found guilty of teaching human evolution in class and fined $100. 1925 – Malcolm Campbell becomes the first man to exceed 150 mph (241 km/h) on land. At Pendine Sands in Wales, he drives Sunbeam 350HP built by Sunbeam at a two-way average speed of 150.33 mph (242 km/h). 1936 – Spanish Civil War: The Central Committee of Antifascist Militias of Catalonia is constituted, establishing an anarcho-syndicalist economy in Catalonia.[3] 1944 – World War II: Battle of Guam: American troops land on Guam, starting a battle that will end on August 10. 1944 – World War II: Claus von Stauffenberg and four fellow conspirators are executed for the July 20 plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. 1949 – The United States Senate ratifies the North Atlantic Treaty. 1952 – The 7.3 Mw  Kern County earthquake strikes Southern California with a maximum Mercalli intensity of XI (Extreme), killing 12 and injuring hundreds. 1954 – First Indochina War: The Geneva Conference partitions Vietnam into North Vietnam and South Vietnam. 1959 – NS Savannah, the first nuclear-powered cargo-passenger ship, is launched as a showcase for Dwight D. Eisenhower's "Atoms for Peace" initiative. 1959 – Elijah Jerry "Pumpsie" Green becomes the first African-American to play for the Boston Red Sox, the last team to integrate. He came in as a pinch runner for Vic Wertz and stayed in as shortstop in a 2–1 loss to the Chicago White Sox. 1960 – Sirimavo Bandaranaike is elected Prime Minister of Sri Lanka, becoming the world's first female head of government 1961 – Mercury program: Mercury-Redstone 4 Mission: Gus Grissom piloting Liberty Bell 7 becomes the second American to go into space (in a suborbital mission). 1969 – Apollo program: At 02:56 UTC, astronaut Neil Armstrong becomes the first person to walk on the Moon, followed 19 minutes later by Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin. 1970 – After 11 years of construction, the Aswan High Dam in Egypt is completed. 1972 – The Troubles: Bloody Friday: The Provisional IRA detonate 22 bombs in central Belfast, Northern Ireland, United Kingdom in the space of 80 minutes, killing nine and injuring 130. 1973 – In Lillehammer, Norway, Mossad agents kill a waiter whom they mistakenly thought was involved in the 1972 Munich Olympics Massacre. 1976 – Christopher Ewart-Biggs, the British ambassador to the Republic of Ireland, is assassinated by the Provisional IRA. 1977 – The start of the four-day-long Libyan–Egyptian War. 1979 – Jay Silverheels, a Mohawk actor, becomes the first Native American to have a star commemorated in the Hollywood Walk of Fame. 1983 – The world's lowest temperature in an inhabited location is recorded at Vostok Station, Antarctica at −89.2 °C (−128.6 °F). 1990 – Taiwan's military police forces mainland Chinese illegal immigrants into sealed holds of a fishing boat Min Ping Yu No. 5540 for repatriation to Fujian, causing 25 people to die from suffocation. 1995 – Third Taiwan Strait Crisis: The People's Liberation Army begins firing missiles into the waters north of Taiwan. 2001 – At the conclusion of a fireworks display on Okura Beach in Akashi, Hyōgo, Japan, 11 people are killed and more than 120 are injured when a pedestrian footbridge connecting the beach to JR Asagiri Station becomes overcrowded and people leaving the event fall down in a domino effect. 2005 – July 2005 London bombings occur. 2008 – Ram Baran Yadav is declared the first president of Nepal. 2011 – NASA's Space Shuttle program ends with the landing of Space Shuttle Atlantis on mission STS-135 at NASA's Kennedy Space Center. 2012 – Erden Eruç completes the first solo human-powered circumnavigation of the world.

[vannahfanfics]

Melody of Souls

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Soul Eater

Characters: Soul Eater Evans, Maka Albarn

Requested By: Anonymous

Additional Tags: Soulmate AU

“You know, they say that you and your soulmate are born with the same song in your hearts. It’s unique to every destined pair, and when you find that person singing or humming the song, you know that you’re meant to be.”

Maka raised an eyebrow as the pair of girls rummaging through the lockers to her left giggled excitedly between their whispers of fate and romance. One of them, a bright-eyed, brunette young lady, covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers as she chuckled mirthfully. “I’ve memorized every verse of my song. It’s quite a beautiful melody! I can only imagine my soulmate is as elegant and charming as the tune!” Her friend frowned jealously.

“Really? The only way I can describe mine is… a screaming guitar riff.” The other girl snickered hysterically and patted her begrudged friend on the shoulder. The girl then leaned in to whisper enticingly into her ear.

“Oh, but you know, that could mean that your soulmate is a tough bad boy! I know someone who fits that description…” At her teasing, the girl with the rock ‘n’ roll soulmate song squeaked and slapped her hands to her reddening face. Her friend laughed playfully at her expense amidst her pleas to stop jesting. Maka clucked her tongue distastefully and shut her locker with a little more than necessary force, making the metallic clang ring through the hallway. Clutching her schoolbooks to her chest, she strode away haughtily, leaving the gossiping girls to their wishful thinking and crushing on a “bad boy.”

“Someone who fits that description…” Who else could they be talking about except Soul?

Soul Eater Evans undoubtedly embodied the “bad boy” persona to the unknowing bystander. Perpetually scowling and slouching with his hands buried in the pockets of his baggy pants, thundering into the school parking lot on a rumbling motorcycle, and more often passed out drooling in class than actually paying attention- that was Soul. Maka had to smile wryly at the utterly ridiculous notion of him being a tough bad boy. Those little first-years might dream up such ludicrous fantasies, but Maka knew better, so much better.

He was rude and uncouth, sure, but Soul had a heart of the purest gold.

Maka had known Soul since middle school. They had been paired up for a class project. Maka had wanted to rip every one of those silver hairs out of his head for the first few meetings; he was lazy and undriven, which infuriated her to no end. She presumed early on that she would shoulder the entire burden of the project upon her shoulders. However, he had surprised her. Near the end of their working period, Soul had stumbled up to her front door after spending all night slaving over an essay that was so eloquent and sophisticated that Maka wanted to weep. Yes, he had surprised her, and now six years later, in their third year of high school, they were the best of friends.

She smirked at the silver-haired boy when she slid into her desk beside him.

“What’s that grin for? Did you kick Sideburns’ ass in an exam or something?” he drawled as he rubbed his eyes, drifting into the twilight of half-sleep, though the class hadn’t even begun. “Sideburns” referred to one Ox Ford, the current leader in class rankings, and Maka’s insufferable rival. Though she had smoked him in the midterms last week, much to the prideful boy’s chagrin, that was not what had her spirits so high.

“No. I overheard some first-year girls chattering about their crushes on a bad boy third-year,” she remarked nonchalantly as she flipped her notebook open. Soul snorted with laughter and laid his head on his arm, watching her write the date in the corner of the notepaper.

“‘Bad boy.’ What a crock. I have some standards.”

“Hehe, I know. They can’t help it, though. They’re just doe-eyed girls enamored with the idea of finding their soulmates in high school.”

“Oh, Maka,” Liz chimed from the seat catty-cornered to her, leaning over the enameled chair to smirk knowingly at the bookish girl. “Don’t pretend that you’re not infatuated with the soulmate stuff too. Just yesterday, I overheard you whining to Kim and Jackie that you would love to find your soulmate before you graduate.” Maka’s face turned beet red, and she didn’t even have to look at Soul to know he was wearing that stupid grin that made her want to slap him silly.

“Liz, huuuush!” Maka hissed and swatted at the air, as if she could reach her to bop her on the head. Groaning, she buried her burning red face into her hands.

Of course she would love to find her soulmate! Even she had her romantic tendencies! Late at night, when there was nothing more to study or learn, she would lie in her bed with a piano melody tinkling in her heart and would try to envision the person to whom it must belong. Maka knew the statistics (she had quite obsessed over them), so she recognized that the chances of discovering her soulmate in high school were extraordinarily slim. Yet, yet, she harbored just the tiniest shred of hope that somewhere in her school, her classroom, even, sat the pre-ordained love of her life.

“Bah,” Soul suddenly grunted, and she looked at him in shock. His lips were drawn into a babyish pout. “Who cares about all that soulmate bull? Why should I have to let some dumb song tell me who to love, anyway?” Sniffing haughtily, he buried his face into his forearm and pulled his hoodie up over his fluffy silver hair. A few of the girls berated him for his indecency and ignorance, but Maka didn’t. It was truthfully a sobering thought that a song in one’s soul made one of the most significant decisions of one’s life without any consent or choosing at all.

Maka placed a hand over her heart, recalling the sweet thrumming of piano keys that had existed within her subconscious for as long as she could recognize it as music. Soft and sweet, full of high notes, but in the background of those blissful keys hummed deeper tones of suppressed power and emotion.

Maybe… I don’t want to know who that song belongs to.

~~~~~~~~~~

After class, Soul did something he had never done before- he stormed right out of the room as soon as the bell rang, abandoning Maka to her own devices. He melted into the crowd like a wisp, while Maka struggled to breach the writhing wave of bodies and catch up.

“Soul? Soul!” He disappeared into the mass of students, and Maka ceased her struggles to follow after a few meaningless seconds. Liz clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and tossed her jacket over her shoulder.

“What’s his deal?” she huffed with a raised eyebrow. Maka pouted unsurely, but she had a hunch as to what had ruffled Soul so. He was so angry about all the talk of soulmates… He feels trapped, having to conform to a pre-ordained love. She smirked slightly. That was certainly like Soul, to rebel against such notions. Now that Maka considered it, having to search for a single person in such a vast sea of billions was frightening, and what if, what if, it was impossible to love them? “Yo. Earth to Maka,” Liz said while knocking on the side of her head. Maka frowned deeply and curled her hand over her chest.

“Liz… What if you fall in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate?” The blonde girl blinked puzzledly at her, then scratched her chin.

“I mean… Well… You’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak, I guess. What? Do you have a crush on someone, Maka?” the girl sneered teasingly, leaning in to whisper breathily into her ear. For once, Liz’s mocking failed to fluster Maka; she was much too lost in thought. Could Soul be in love with someone and afraid to find that it isn’t his soulmate? Who, though? There were several girls within their circle of friends, but Soul had never given any indication that he possessed a romantic interest for any of them. He was skilled at concealing his crush if he had one.

The hallways had emptied, as all the students had funneled into the cafeteria.

“I’m going after Soul!” Maka announced and began stalking in the direction he had vanished. She heard Liz shouting protests after her, but the pigtailed girl ignored them. Her mind was far too bent on the present conundrum: the riddle of soulmate songs and an apparent flaw in the fabric of fate.

The hallways echoed with her footsteps. The rhythmic strikes bounced off the painted brick walls and metal lockers, filling her already disordered mind with noise. Maka had always dreamed of finding her soulmate, but… It was frightening, the idea that your love was destined for a complete and utter stranger. What if they were repulsive? Maka would die if her soulmate were someone like Ox Ford- conceited, prideful, arrogant. How could she spend the rest of her life swallowing those flaws, all for the sake of some “destiny”? Maka swallowed thickly and paused in the hallway to stare down at her feet. It had only been a little thinking, but she understood why Soul hated the concept so much. The pressure was immense, the uncertainty astronomical.

The piano melody floated in her ears, bubbling up from the depths of her soul. Its tune tinkled like morning bells in the breeze, soft and sweet, with that booming undertone of raw, unbridled emotion. She never could place what kind of feeling it was. Lament? Frustration? Longing? It seemed to be all of them and none. She had always found comfort in that melody of her soul, a promise to a love to come. Now it seemed like thousands of chains shackling her to a future she may not want. Whimpering, she pawed her hands over her ears and attempted to drive the thrumming of the piano keys from her subconscious.

The melody dimmed, but not due to her internal efforts. Maka cracked an eye open when she realized the music was not in her head, but in the hallway. When she lowered her palms from her ears, the tune blazed back into its sweet fervor. Someone is… Playing my soulmate song. The epiphany rang hollowly in her chest. Just hours ago, she would have been ecstatic to know her soulmate was within these walls. Now, it filled her belly with the burdensome weight of dread. The music drifted out of the ajar door of the music club’s classroom, which was not three yards before her. In just a few steps, she could scamper over, and she would know who her heart was destined for. Or, she could turn around and run in the other direction, perhaps doomed never to know her predestined partner.

Her feet moved of their own accord, drawing her to the door. All she need do is look. She could make a decision then. Right? She was in the threshold before she made a concrete decision. With a small gulp, she peeked through the small gap and prayed, though she knew not for what.

His hands glided over the piano keys, striking them with practiced precision. Back straight, shoulders squared, he looked the epitome of a professional musician. His eyes were closed, and his head swayed to the wave of the music; he was completely immersed in the dream of love that his hands were weaving- sweet high notes, powerful low notes, all colliding together in a beautiful symphony.

Maka had never seen Soul so… liberated.

The door made no sound as she pushed it open, or perhaps its creaking was swallowed by the music swirling around the small classroom. She approached the piano from the side, watching with fascinated eyes as Soul played the instrument like an extension of himself, but he was still too absorbed in the effort to notice her. She had not even the wherewithal to recognize that this meant Soul was her soulmate. The music was just so enchanting, so mesmerizing, that she existed in a reality of only she and it.

Maka jumped when the song abruptly ended. Her eyes fluttered rapidly as she came down from the foggy high, and after a few seconds, she realized he had taken notice of her presence. He had lowered the key cover and was leaning on its black polished surface, regarding her miserably.

“I’ve known that song for as long as I can remember,” he exhaled and began drawing abstract patterns on the enameled exterior, smudging it with his fingerprints. “It’s been in my heart and soul for every day of my life… and I really didn’t care much. I figured it would become relevant when it needed to, but then… Then I met you, Maka.” With a small gasp, the girl straightened up, her cheeks brightening at the insinuations. He smiled self-loathingly. “Then my dumb ass went and fell in love with you knowing that the chances we actually belonged together were one in a trillion. Stupid, right?” He drew his hand over his face with an agonized scowl. “If we were soulmates, we’d’ve figured it out by now, right? Just… just get the painful part over with and tell me you don’t love me, or that you want to wait for your soulmate, and let me get on with my life, okay?”

“Soul.” He didn’t look at her, just kept his eyes hidden with his slightly shaking fingers. Maka closed the small distance between them to pry his fingers from his face, revealing watery red eyes. “Soul, I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Don’t pity me, Maka,” he snarled and went to shove her away. She caught him by the upper arm, squeezing the flesh there hard.

“I’m not! I’m not, because I… I know that song.” His eyes widened, and he stared at her incredulously. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she wrung the fabric of his school uniform coat nervously. “I’ve known it… for as long as I can remember, too. What you just played is my soulmate song.” He slowly lowered his arm with her hands still clinging to it. He swallowed thickly, looking down at the covered piano, then back at her.

“Maka… Do you love me?”

Her cheeks reddened, and she looked away.

“Well, you’re apparently my soulmate, so- Ah!” She yelped when he suddenly jumped up to grab her by her upper arms. His face loomed over hers, intense and adamant.

“I don’t care about that. That’s not the point. If you don’t love me, then it doesn’t change anything. Not for me. You be honest, and if you don’t love me, you turn around and walk out that door right now.” Maka’s bottom lip wobbled and her eyes flooded with tears, but not because she was scared or heartbroken. She was just so utterly relieved. The very fact that he cared more about her feelings than some pre-ordained will of the deities meant more to her than anything ever could. She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes, searching the depths of her soul for the truth- and she found it.

“Of course I do. Of course I love you. You’re my very best friend and so much more. I can’t imagine my life without you, Soul, whether we’re soulmates or not. I want to be with you forever.” His grip on her arms relaxed, and he brought a hand up to cup her cheek. His fingers pushed her hands away from her eyes, and then he swept his thumb over her cheeks to catch her falling tears. His hands were so soft and warm that she could not help but weakly smile.

“Well, that’s a relief. I didn’t want to imagine my life without you, either, Maka.” She chuckled softly. I’m glad. I’m so glad. His red eyes studied her face, like he was memorizing it though he had seen it nearly every day for the last six years. His fingertips lightly traveled her cheekbone, leaving a trail of tingling pink in their wake. “You’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever met,” he breathed. His gaze dropped to her slightly parted lips, and it didn’t take an Ox Ford to determine his next move. Maka’s eyes fluttered shut just as his face leaned in, and when his mouth met hers, she melted into him.

The only way Maka could describe the kiss later was… like she was coming home after a long time away. His lips melded into hers so perfectly, and the sensation was like fireworks exploding over the soft flesh as her nerves rejoiced. She missed him immediately when he pulled away, but in the next instant, the bell signaling the end of the lunch period blared shrilly overhead.

“Better get to class, Smarty-pants,” he smirked. Maka grinned slyly and tugged on his arm, pulling him out of the music room and into the hallway. He groaned and shoved a hand in his pocket, but obediently allowed her to tug him along. When they had rejoined the throng of students, she looped her arm with his and grinned broadly. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking about how disappointed those first-year girls will be to learn their ‘bad boy’ has been claimed by bookish little me.” Their laughter rang through the crowd, causing quite a few confused glances. Maka giggled and propped her head on his shoulder, jumping a little as it shook with his laughs. In the back of her mind, a piano melody played, blissful but humming with the undertones of a love powerful and pure.

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