#has many human muses who end up being his temporary lovers

[nateezfics]

he looks so vampy in these photos;; i’m so in love

[anothertimdrakestan]

Lovebirds Damian Wayne x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Requested? Yes! From a few lovely anons!

“So far i am loving your blog and went through like all of your writing🥰💖💖💖💗💞! I was wondering if you could do 'star sapphire corp reader' x damien please? Like them getting together” and “Could you please do sapphire lantern reader with your choice of the batboys meeting on a mission?”

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I absolutely love the sapphire corps! Thank you for these adorable requests! Dami plus a lover actually in tune with their emotions- hell they’re powered off the emotions- is too funny and so adorable! Also we are going to pretend that Raven and Damian aren’t a thing even though I’m using the DCAU teen titans alrighty? Plus it gives me a chance to ship BBRAE YEAHHHH! Hope you enjoy!

I’m so sorry it’s long it’s my first fic back I was so excited haha

“Deep breaths and English you got this” you stared at yourself in the mirror of your makeshift room in titan’s tower. Being the youngest member of the star sapphire corps you were the one tasked with the trip to earth, it made sense, no one wanted to work with teenage earthly heroes but you. Finally, a chance to meet a being similar in age to you! No more old hymns about the power earthly love, you were about to experience it first hand. 

Your mentor had called in a favor and you had been escorted to earth by none other than the physical embodiment of flirtatiousness, Hal Jordan. The trip itself was tiring so upon a midnight arrival you retired to your room without meeting anyone. Now, you could hear a bustling of voices, there was so much emotion radiating it seemed slightly overwhelming, so you opted to wait for Hal to come pull you from your room. 

At the familiar knock you shook away your nerves and flexed your hands into fists, feelings your ring almost pushing you to go outside. “Howdy miss l/n! Ready to meet your new team?” You were greeted with the cheesy grin that had apparently wooed your mentor, but always prodded you. “Good morning Hal, temporary team remember?” you replied, letting your aura be picked up by your purple light. Hal coughed awkwardly, “we walk on earth newbie, not many float here” embarrassed, you touched back down, clearing your throat as you exited your quarters. 

As you made your way down the hallway shouting grew, but upon you entering the room went quiet. With a small smile wave you scanned the room, noticing a green boy who was burning a strange looking food, two other boys who had froze to look at you but stood at a large table that made a strange sound, and lastly a raven haired boy who was sharpening a- sword? At ten in the morning? On the couch. The green boy came up to you first, “hello! You must be y/n! I’m Gar, there’s Jaime, Vic, Robin, and Raven isn’t here but she’s also part of the team! Nice to meet’cha!” Trying to keep up with the names Gar started shouting “SHE’S HERE Y’ALL” apparently to summon a woman who looked like the leader, as she was much older. Following her was a younger girl in a purple cloak, you quite liked her look and vibes, though she felt quite closed off. 

After learning more about everyone at a team breakfast with strangely prepared food you were with the team getting suited up as your mission to travel to Celea, a planet whose environment was toxic to any being over 18, making it a “teen titan’s mission” as they called themselves. As some of the titan’s changed into their suits and prepped themselves for combat you bonded with Raven and Blue Beetle as you had all loaded onto the ship fairly easily. “So why do you have a powerless human on your team? Do you not worry for his safety?” you wondered as you watched Robin methodically pack all his gear. “Trust me, Robin could take all of us out if he wanted to, he’s earned his spot on the team from pure skill and being a little bit of a monster- OOMPH” Jaime was cut off by Raven nudging him. You couldn’t help wanting to hear Robin’s story, as you were like him too- powerless but highly trained and craving to do more. Luckily you had a couple hours of flight to get to know the mysterious boy. 

The ship was large, built for a league of heroes apparently. This meant the team had spread out but you had stayed in the piloting area to assure yourself the team was on the right trajectory, apparently Robin was as well. “You actually know where we’re going?” his voice shook you from your calculations. “Yes, I’ve visited Celea before, but never to fight it’s people” you mused, wondering how in just a few years since your visiting a toxic group of manipulative outlaws had attempted to stake their claim to the beautiful Celea. “TT, not much of a fighter?” Robin mused snarkily, his flitted down to the ring on your finger. “Y’know your team here thinks you’re pretty strong, but I’d wager you’d be easy work for me” you teased back, twisting your ring around your finger as Robin came closer to you. 

(TW FOR BLOOD)

Sitting next to you he began, “my abilities come from my skill, my wit, and my determination. I don’t believe you can say the same princess” you scoffed, “you underestimate me Robin, this ring is nothing without me, not the other way around. Powered from my emotional control and my creativity, my skill takes focus and agility not just glorified muscle memory” you winked at him, enjoying the banter. He scoffed in return. “Yes and what can you do with that ring that I cannot defeat with my blades” he mused. This invitation was perfect. You got up jubilantly, started your lecture. “Clearly you lack certain knowledge Robin, hand me one of your so called blades” you stuck your hand out as Robin rolled his eyes handing you a bat-shaped blade. Without a second thought you cut into the side of your arm, wincing at the pain. “Y/N! What are you doin-” you cut Robin off, beginning to channel your power. “You see, true power is the ability to heal any cut your blades could make, to take was has happened and turn it into a place of love, not malice or hate” as you said this, the familiar purple tone washed over your arm, easily mending the break in your skin. You noticed it felt faster than usual, but wiped it off as adrenaline. 

(TW OVER)

At the display of your powers Robin was in awe. “That’s not all I can do” you laughed, creating a small purple hand that pushed Robin’s open jaw closed. He stumbled back angrily, mumbling about accepting your abilities merit. “You impressed now Robin?” you grinned, sticking out your hand to him. He closed the distance, returning your handshake. “Damian.” he said softly. You swallowed, Damian. It was becoming. Your ring began to warmly glow, Damian snapped his hand away wearily as you cooled your emotions. “Oh uh! Sorry, energy burst” you said, it was a half truth at least. Damian nodded, moving to go clean the batarang. 

The rest of the trip was short, upon entering Celea you’d divided, Damian was with you as the both of you entered publicly while Beast Boy and Raven entered covertly, planning to cover you if the diplomatic endeavors went south. Blue Beetle and Cyborg, unfortunately, weren’t allowed in Celea as their tech was apparently very old and triggered the planet’s defense system, so they stayed up in the ship was manning comms, prepared for an air fight. 

Upon entering you were taken straight to the capital, a sapphire corps was a rarity on Celea and they were all excited for your help. You and Damian met the governing leaders, explaining that you were here to help end the tyranny on the dark side of the planet. As you had hoped, they agreed, you could feel their love for their planet was strong, but that was about all the love on the planet as everyone was so young. It felt slightly difficult to keep a reign on your emotions on Celea, the planet itself was a safe haven for children, almost like a giant orphanage ran by beings that reincarnated frequently as to stay alive on the planet, the concept of pure love was foreign to many of the children and unharnessable. It all felt quite isolating in comparison to earth, a planet driven by intense emotions. 

“You look tired already” Damian mused. “I’m fine, just not a huge fan of a child-only planet” you responded as you made your way towards the large base, preparing yourself for a fight. Before Damian could respond you were joined by Raven and Gar. Their presence eased some of the pressure. “You guys love each other, it’s refreshing” you said, both of them froze, staring at you. “Oh uh, we haven’t really talked about that yet” Raven whispered, staring at Gar who was grinning like a child in a candy shop. “I love you too Rae!” he cheered. “Not how I imagined I’d say it but, yes, I do love you idiot” she huffed. Your cheeks flushed, “oh uh, my bad sorry, it just, seemed so obvious” you giggled, secretly glad you’d brought the two together. 

“Just a couple’a couples!” Beast boy teased, you felt your cheeks redden, glancing to Damian who was now suddenly interested in looking anywhere but at you. You felt your ring begin to glow again, covering it with your other hand. “Oh wow! Look at that! We’re here! Battle time!” you cleared your throat, setting the group focus on infiltrating the rogue base. 

The base itself was relatively small, it hadn’t been flushed out yet but the four of you were here to clear it before they had the chance. Trying to establish a child trafficking ring on a planet of only children was disgusting, and needed stopping before it got the chance. You were especially passionate about this endeavor, the reason for you channeling the power of love was when you lost your sister, that loss of love taught you it’s importance even at a young age, and after training harder than anyone you knew you earned the ring, promising to defend love the way no one defended yours. You would protect these children at any cost. 

There was no need for stealth as you had the permission of the Celean government, it was more of an ambush. As Gar shifted into a large tiger, Raven donned her hood, and Damian stripped himself of the Celean garb, you noticed his Robin suit, littered in weapons and ties, he looked like a hero. There was that damn glow again. Channeling it into your focus you felt the warm aura surround you as you lifted off the ground, ready for a fight. 

“Y/n should say it!” BB roared, Raven nodded in agreement. “Say what?” you looked at Damian. “We have this tradition where the leader says ‘Titan’s Go’ then we fight, and I guess you’re our leader today” he said, you noticed the light tint hiding beneath his mask. “Okay!” you said, positioning yourself, flexing your hand to feel your ring one last time before shouting.

“TITANS GO!” 

And you were off, soaring through the air while BB and Robin took the ground. You noticed a few scared looking kids were being held in pens, and you decided to free them first. As Raven covered you easily, you floated down to the kids, accidentally bonking heads with Robin who stared at you. “I’m so sorry! It’s just we always have to-” “Get the kids out first” he finished your sentence, a small smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. For just a fraction of a second, your eyes flitted down to his lips, feeling his gaze of you the moment felt like slow motion before you both snapped out. “Let’s go! This way!” you used your ring to break the gates as Robin herded the kids out to freedom. 

Glancing up you saw a couple rogues grabbing kids as they tried to run away, your heart stopped when you saw one pull out a laser blaster. “Enough!” you screamed, violet rays exploding from your hands as you easily knocked them out of your way. Leaving your post you flew up and began eradicating anyone who tried to harm a child. “No one hurts my sister!” you screeched, your powers growing stronger by the second as you began dividing your powers between knocking out bad guys and literally carrying children to safety. As the last of the kids were safe you escorted Beast Boy out while you and Raven combined your powers to crunch up the base, making it unfixable and uninhabitable forever. 

Feeling the adrenaline subside you glanced down to see a herd of children cheering, but your focus drew to Damian who was propped up against a barrel, nursing a laser bullet wound. Rushing to his side you quickly pulled open his suit, a trail of blood trickled into your hands. “Damn kevlar doesn’t stop their bullets apparently” he coughed. “Oh my god Damian don’t go” Gar shifted next to you. “He’s not going anywhere” you said, focussing your energy, feeling the pain and imagining turning the warmth of blood into mending, the pools of blood are just pockets of blissful love. 

This wasn’t a good time to tell the team you’d never healed a wound this large before. Positive self talk right? Or negative. 

I’m alone on a planet of useless children, surrounded by a glorified furry, goth, and stocked vigilante. No one is here to help you y/n you’ve gotta do this. You felt the wounds begin to mend, after all that focus you’d barely started. Damian you idiot! If you die right now how will I know why my damn ring is gleaming everytime I see your cute face. Fuck. I didn’t mean cute. Yeah I did. Okay, save the cute face. Maybe kiss the cute face if you save it? Yeah. That’s a good deal y/n let’s do that. Your head was rushing through a million thoughts, anything to motivate you to do the impossible. Halfway there, you could feel it. “Holy cow, look! The wound is closing!” Gar pointed at Damian’s chest. “Y-yeah. No help from you green bean” you mumbled. “Oh I know what’ll help!” Gar squeaked, running off. You turned to Damian who was just staring at you bewildered. “Don’t look at me like that when I’m literally repairing your organs bird boy” you whispered through clenched teeth. 

Then a surge of power came over you, it felt raw and unchanneled, you glanced up to see Gar mid-kiss with Raven, giving you a thumbs up. The love was short lived, but enough to keep your engine revving. Alright girl you got this, heal, then kiss, maybe. Definitely heal first. He has to live. C’mon. “JUST LIVE DAMMIT” you shouted the last bit, feeling the last of your power drain while the wound completely closed. “Holy shit I’m a badass” you whispered, before feeling intensely light headed. 

You woke up in the ship med bay, jolting up. “HE LIVED HE LIVED” you burst up, throwing a fist in the air. The other corps members would be so proud! Your first battle with death you’d won! “You’re right I did live, thanks to you” a familiar voice brought you back down to earth. Next to your bed was Damian, now in casual clothes with a little bandaging on his other wounds. “Oh! uh yeah, you’re totally welcome” you grinned. Awkwardly Damian scooted closer to you. “I think I owe you a certain gratitude” he said, emotions dripping in his voice you hadn’t heard before. 

This time his eyes snapped down to your lips, as he leaned in you felt like you were dreaming. When your lips connected you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, feeling lightheaded with pure joy. The kiss itself was soft, blissful and lovely. Damian’s lips felt soft against yours, like they fit with yours like a puzzle piece. Pulling away you stared at him shocked. “I could hear your thoughts when you were healing me, had to live up to your expectations” he winked while you covered your face with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh that’s so embarrassing yikes” you mumbled into your hands. You felt Damian’s hand slide under yours, caressing your cheek, drawing your eyes to his. “I thought it was pretty endearing personally, I suppose it’s because I was being saved by the most gorgeous, fascinating girl I know” he mused, before bringing you in for another kiss, this time more passionate, as if to show his feelings through a kiss instead of words. 

You spent the rest of your earthly get-away with the Titans, finding a sort of family with them. When you were called back to your people you promised to return in a few weeks, hoping to move your station to earth. They could always use another lantern right? 

When you returned to your mentor, C.Ferris you told her of your earthly adventures. She laughed, “a Star Sapphire’s greatest strength and weakness all wrapped into a snarky earth boy body” and you couldn’t help but agree. And with that, you were sent back to earth, this time returning as Dove, because every Robin needs a lovebird to help them along the way. 

[ikonislife]

Same Moon.

-Bobby x Reader

-Angst, fluff, rekindled relationship, ex to lovers, Bobby’s birthday scenario

-Life torn your love apart but when it once more brings you back to where it had all started, will you and him survive the tumultuous ride?

The soft rustling of leaves being shed into the slight chill of an autumn night paves the way for his lonely footstep pattering down the desolated street. Dirty yellow streetlamp frizzing scaring a few bugs looking for a bit of warmth, blind by their desire to sooth an addiction that no doubt drawing close their demise much faster than the natural cycle of life would. What if that’s all human is, just bugs flying in the night, drawn to things in life that bring pleasure but, in the end, spelling out certain pain. Yet there’s no helping this calling, this, this strange addiction to feel loved even if at the end of a cold lonely night, it brings nothing but searing pain for days to come… And certainly, aching memories for years. As Bobby gazes upon the full moon casting its wisps of silver down upon the city that long forgotten about its wondrous healing light, abandoned for temporary high in the explosion of colorful neon lights and the pollution it brings, he finds himself solemn. It’s the same beautiful bright orb that occupies the sky no matter inkiness or clear blue. No matter the existent of the clouds that shy its beauty away from the world that couldn’t much care less for it has not for its detrimental effects on the tides and, well, that’s a topic he could spend all night speaking on but alas, irrelevant. What is within the realm of all things matter dearly to his heart, this is the same moon as it always had been in his short time on Earth. The same one he first took a breath of that disinfectant filled fresh air of the hospital, of his first kiss, his first fuck… the first time he caught the glimmers in your eyes despite the ass hour of the night across the crowded platform of Shibuya station. 

It was unknown really, why he suddenly felt the need to abandon a game he nearly bested and instead looked up, staring straight ahead at the platform across the metal rails. Bobby didn’t know why this night he had chosen to care about the storyline of someone else. He had learned to be impervious of the strives in the life streams possessed by the thousands other souls existing at the same time in the same space. He had enough on his own plate, why on Earth would he be bother with someone else’s life. Yet that night, he couldn’t help but be curious, to look up, to take a small peek into what was going on across the track, letting himself immerse in this deep philosophical conscious that to every face he sees, a complicated lifetime is attached. Were they also going through the many debacles of life despite the smile on their lips or are they truly happy? He stared into your eyes and saw what he could only described as an out of body experience. Like a ghost floating alongside your small steps and soft hum (he assumed you like to hum in the slow of life, you just seemed like the kind of girl that could carry a tune), Bobby imagined your mundane life playing out, every decision, everything that consequently lead to you standing right within his view. Like morn to any dream, the clicking of the approaching train conceal you away in the rush of the world existing outside of his little bubble. You were gone. He regretted it, in the five minutes he had stared at you like the creep he was, his feet would’ve carried him over the small pass connection the two side and right by your side. Yet instead he stared, like a dumbass, probably scaring you off but that little pout on your lips was too mesmerizing for his logical side to break the spell. When, how, where would he even find you again in this city of millions, not even accounting for the tourists just like himself. Were you also a tourist? Looking for a little break in your daily routine? The image of your (hair color) locks flowing in the gust of wind intensified by the ghastly sound of wheels grinding against metal track haunted his daydream until he could no longer remained still. So, he wandered. Where? A real plan of action was only something of a myth at this point, but Bobby had to do something. He went back to the infamous sea of the Shibuya crossing… Thousands of people passed by nearly every hour, what better place to start. Then it was the station, dozen times it must’ve been that he just stood there in the same spot you had been, hoping to see the familiar pout. What kind of place would a girl like yourself frequent, clothing store? cafe? park? Bobby tried his best but, in the end, his short vacation ended much too quickly, and the thrashing wave of reality wasn’t one he could stop. Yet life has a strange way of sharing a bit of its kindness on those who persevered for exactly 2 months later on a night much like the fateful one, you were humming a strange tune unfamiliar to his ears not even a few feet away. He thought you looked familiar at first, those soft tousles curiously gave him the worst case of nostalgia despite bearing no resemblance at all to any name he had committed to memory. A hot summer night and the wait for the much needed relieved of a delectable ice cream cone lit a fire in his stomach, antsy and not much patient had. He tapped his foot in place, click his tongue, and must’ve sighed about 4 times before you turned his way, soft whispers filled the night. “Not a waiting kind of dude, are you?” “Normally, yes. Tonight, debatable.” He normally hated small talk. What’s the point of them really? Nonsense to fill the dead air and awkward space, no value to anything being said nor is it important enough to commit to memory. Yet whatever grandeur life had in store for him that night made Bobby answered, he felt compelled to reply then only to feel his tongue go numb from the sight of that little pout. “Well quit being a grump. If you were a kid, wouldn’t you want to carefully pick the best flavor of ice cream to enjoy? Let the boy have his moment.” Gesturing at the boy who couldn’t be more than 6, tiptoeing despite having full view of the giant display of colorful treats, you swung your body with all the oomph you could in the small space of the line. Then you paused… So did he. For a moment, he could hear the wheel churning in your brain, eyebrows raised so high as if your senses recognized him just the way he did you. “AAHHH!” You suddenly exclaimed, drawing ire from the few customers behind Bobby. Panic engulfed his body; did you think he was a creep? “You! weird dude stared at me for like a billion years in Japan. You’re even wearing the same outfit!” “oh. Well, it’s a different white shirt if that makes a different… Probably not…” Bobby sighed in defeat, of course, now he was just a creepy person in your eyes. No way in hell now would you give him a chance. “Of course, I saw. I feared for my life for a bit there.” Or maybe not, your smile, much cuter than the pout he had been hung up on for all this time. “I-I have no excuse. I’m sorry.” “Well, at first I thought I was gonna get kidnap and sold off… but then you looked a bit… how do I say this without making it weird.” You mused, and he thought of a puppy hearing the TV for the first time, head tilt, adorable gaze and all. “I’m sure whatever you got in mind will be fine, this whole situation is already weird.” “You looked sort of… like a kid staring at his favorite meal. Goofy, cute even but at the same time sort of desperate.” He stood there staring in awe at the way your laugher chasing away the stickiness of summer, washing the slick layer of sweat right of his smooth tan skin with its freshness. Yet with each passing second, the pout that had plagued his dream slowly flooding back onto the cherry red lips he so desperately trying to ogle at. “Do you just like to stare, or do I look … odd?” “Y-yes” “Yes? What?” The way your eyes widen in panic was too much for him to handle, and it nearly, nearly made him lost track of the fact that he had just accidentally insulted you. “NO! NO! I mean…Yes, but not like that.” “Huh? Wait so do I look weird or not?” A long-winded sigh ripping away from his chapped lips, bunny teeth mauling at the frayed skin with all the viciousness of frustration rising high. “I’m not very good at this if, if you haven’t figured it out by now.” “I kind of got the hint.” You spoke so gently, almost teasing, which under any other circumstances he’d have flipped. Yet at the moment he was glad it was amusing you in some way that Bobby was such a flustering mess. Just the fact that his total embarrassment of a creep could serve to lighten your mood in turn put him at ease. “You’re, you’re fine. I’m a mess.” Shuffling awkwardly, Bobby was now one person closer to the sweet taste of a refreshing cone of ice cream, but he no longer cared. “I’m Bobby. Can I buy your ice cream to apologize?” Who would think a piece of memory so fresh in his mind was one of nearly 10 years ago… 10 wonderful years of joy and heartbreak, of memories warming to the heart yet simultaneously searing every bit of his skin with hot pain. Time with you was truly a journey. You both grew so much and matured with each tick of the clock, carving out a little niche of your own in this busy world and although not big, it was nice enough to settled into, for him to see a future with you. He had thought this was it, the relationship to end his life as a bachelor, the one that will seal away his parents worry of him living much too far away for their love to reach, to banish the fear of just how lonely he might be despite that bunny smile and his strange endearing chuckle doing their best to convince them otherwise. In the end it was a fairytale that was too good to be true. He got a taste of heaven, a little piece of paradise and even if life wasn’t always peaches and cream, deep down he always knew it would all be alright for as long as you both got each other. Then the news of your promotion came crashing down like that first raindrop amidst a beautiful sunny day. It was small, unexpected of course, and neither of you really truly grasped the impact to follow that tiny raindrop just as anyone would brush off the chance of rain on a sunny clear day. No one was happier for your success than Bobby knowing just how hard you worked, how much hours you grinded out, and the toll all those late nights took. He too knew what a promotion meant but who was he to put a dampen towel on your joy of reaping the reward from a long awaited and well-deserved climb in the vicious ladder of business. So, he rewarded you the only way he knew how, pampering and spoiling you for days on end… Well, four days to be exact because that was about the only amount of time off either of you could get approved. You were very much happy, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins blinded you from truly understanding what this all meant but Bobby didn’t mind. In fact, he really loved how pure you are with your emotions and everything in life but deep down, just the tiniest part of himself wallows in sadness and resentment. How could you not see the suffering he was going through despite the bright smile plastered across his lips. In no way was his happiness insincere, but at the end of it all, “we” and “us” was soon to be just “you” and “I”. In the end, he just wanted a simple life without the deadline of an imminent ending hanging over his heart. Sneakers squeaking to a stop, the charming awn of the past remained unchanged, adorning still the deep purple petals of the freshly bloomed chocolate vine, rich floral scent teasing at his olfactory drawing out a nostalgic smile. The ice cream shop that hosted so many dates and so many apology incentives continues to flourish despite the wilted relationship you both had left behind. For so long Bobby couldn’t bear stepping foot in the place where every table, every corner prick at a wound in his heart… Now, the tick of the clock had reduced the pain down to a bare tickle, as if finger pressing on an old bruise.  The old bell ringing out and the cashier whom he does not recognize cheers out a greeting. The sweet scent of cold treats and warmth of waffle cones being freshly made wrapping his rough body in its comforting embrace, the feeling he once felt every night but now only on the rare Sunday when Bobby is much too exhausted to leave the bed; So he let himself curls up in the now unnecessary giant blanket, toasting away under the risen sun. Browsing back and forth, Bobby lets his eyes feast on the colorful array of sweet, noting the many addition of flavors and for reason unknown, he prays your favorite remained. Another good minute before his eyes settle on the gentle pink blush hiding away in the corner, no longer the center of the attention as it once was but same as always. “Could I get a medium half guava, half triple chocolate please.” He smiles at the very patient worker, thankful she let him have his time and very much missing her giddy, demure smile or the fact that she was piling on much more ice cream than Bobby had paid for. Seat chosen and ice cream snugly within his palm, Bobby settles by a corner with the full view of the entire shop (much to the disappointment of the cute worker once she realized the handsome, yet oblivious customer is completely out of her eyesight). Barely a touch of the ice-cold treat on his tongue and he was reminded of how much he despised this flavor, still despises the pink goop you seemed to never gotten enough of. Mixing in with the chocolate? Good God what had you done with your poor taste buds. However, in the midst of the protest his body was so keen to put up against the strange floral taste of the guava and the rich punches of the decadent chocolate, there you were. Hair just as soft and shiny as always but it had been the gorgeous shade of rose gold you sported after losing to a dare. That retro Star Wars tee, a bit faded, a bit stained, and definitely sporting a few holes but nevertheless a favorite of yours. He wouldn’t misplace it anywhere. Your eyes were kinder, smile a bit brighter, the most radiant he had seen in years. You were the you he had met, the girl he had fell so hard for despite not understanding what had gone off in your head to order such a horrendous combo of ice cream flavors. And perhaps has it not for the lingering after taste of your strange choice of ice cream, Bobby would’ve wave back at the figment of you lingering about the doorway, a grin truly from ear to ear as you wave at him at the speed of light. Bobby sighs a soft smile, dazzling the worker who was unnecessarily sweeping the same spot for the 3rd time. He couldn’t believe it had been a near 8 years since the real non-platonic first date. The nervousness, the butterfly, quite honestly just as rambunctious as ever… or it’s the 5th bite of the mess of brown and pink still chilling his hand with its coldness. No, it got to be you, still vivid in the movie playing for one as Bobby soaks in the comfort you brought to his life. He didn’t believe it, the whole deal of one person could alter his life, change his perspective of the world the way countless romantic movies so dramatically play out. Then you waltzed in and flipped his whole world upside down. From the first moment he laid eyes upon you in the busy station to the miraculous reunion just a few feet away from where he seats now, even till the end, you remained the unpredictable force to be reckon with. As with all things in life, the little movie reel of your very first official date was soon over as the chime of the old bell rings out once more forewarning the incoming of new customers. Bobby shakes his head in disbelief still, how could it have been a full 3 years since he had said his goodbye to your adorable face, watched helplessly as your cheeks rosy and nose flared with the strange sound of your sobbing. The disgusting pool of dusty pink ripples as the clear pearl of lost love disturbing its serene surface reminding Bobby of just where he is. Sniffling and a bit flush, he hopes no one had noticed as he gets up to toss his ticket to memory lane, debating whether or not it’s time for another cup of ice cream, one he will enjoy this time. Without even commanding them to, his feet once more carry him toward the colorful display of ice cream, eyes searching through for potential victims for his second round of self-pity. Yet just as he begins voicing his final choice of dark chocolate orange with extra whipped cream, another voice rings out mere seconds before his. Being the gentleman he is, and also not in much of a mood to argue over who was first, Bobby apologizes without sparing a glance, eyes still keeping a close watch on the pan of delicious dark brown ice cream dotted with a few orange zest as if any second now it could grow legs and run off. “Could I please get a medium half guava, half chocolate please!” Cold sweat breaking and heart feeling much like he had just done a marathon, Bobby paralyzes with hope and fear. That voice… That order… Couldn’t be. “Wow, I’ve never had anyone order this combination before but today, twice in only an hour!” The cheery tone of the worker reminds Bobby that he was very much still in the ice cream shop, and this very much still is reality. “What?” Even with all the confusion plaguing the soft voice, he couldn’t misplace it anywhere… It can’t be. Only then did his eyes abandon his prize of classically complementing flavors for a peek at the owner of the sweet voice that was bringing him back to the past. Has it not for the hand bracing against the cold glass surface, Bobby would’ve drop right onto the floor, right there in front of everyone because he has just seen a ghost. You’re definitely real because he had just heard your interaction with the worker just now yet for reason unknown, his mind couldn’t get itself to process the sight beholding. “Bobb? You alright?” “Y-Yea.” He stutters, feeling stupid for staring, and feeling stupid for his jaws that had just dropped onto the floor because by God, you’re stunning. “Hi.” Stupid, so stupid, after all this time, after all the things left unsaid, all he could mutter was a stupid “hi”. Then again, is there really any right thing to say to the subject of his unresolved love, the woman of his dream, the one that got away, the ending neither of you deserved. And so he did what he does best, stares. He stares at you for what seemed like eternity and the whole world simply melts away into a massive shapeless blob of stars and moons and that wondrous feeling of first love. For a moment it was Shibuya, it was the train station, it was being 18 and knowing nothing of love, it was this exact place 10 years ago once more. For a moment it was all the moments you both shared for the 5 wonderful years he got to be with you and every single second thereafter of lost love, every single second condensed into one big explosion of nostalgia, feeling unresolved, and words unspoken. “Did you order my usual?” Your voice seemingly playful after what felt to him like an eternity gone by twice and suddenly, he wonders, did you feel the same? “Yea… wanted to see if I still hate it.” “Well?” “I still hate it.” Laughter, it has always been one of those things that Bobby swears on his life he’d always remember. He might’ve forgotten that favorite dress of yours or the strange way you eat ssam but the way you laugh, how you seemingly looking as though your head had snapped right off your neck bending backward in laughter. Or how bright your eyes shine even though they crescent away when you heave out a hearty laugh. Well… Bobby was sure he remembers it clearly until now. The sound you make, the way your head tilt back, it was all the same yet so distant, so unfamiliar and that scares him. How could something so simple, as simple as laughter instills so much fear into his heart. You were once the person he could simply call up just because without any reason whatsoever or simply because he was bored and needing human interaction, affection. If anyone in this world had been so unfortunate to know what true loneliness is, they would understand just how significant that is as ridiculous as it sounds… The blessing of having someone at the receiving end of “I’m bored, can we do something” even if that only results limbs entangled on the couch staring at the ceiling. Popularity is a double edge blade, that was a fact Bobby never knew until he met you. Never was he unpopular, charming and in possession of a smile that could melt the roughest heart, he was never alone. Yet there was always something missing, in the blur amidst the high of a rager or that second of quietness after a big laugh was shared, an emptiness drowned his heart in inexplicable sadness. A sorrow he was never quite equipped enough to figure out on his own, one he wallowed in after the music faded and goodbye long said. Nights after restless nights, Bobby thought of the fun he had and just how much of a world different it made only a few hours had gone by as he laid all on his lonesome pondering what it was, he’s missing from his life. He ate dinner alone most night, wake up alone… Well, save for a few mornings he managed to land a quick “date”. As he swallowed hard a cold bite of leftover on a random Thursday night, suddenly, his endless contact list seemed meaningless. That all changed the moment your sunshine liked smile entered his life, shooing away the darkest of thought with its pure intensity. Suddenly there was someone on the other end of the line at 3AM when his mind needed a philosophical outlet, or even just an ice cream date. You were always there no matter how trivial his request might be, no question asked and never once expressing grievance. You were a shoulder to cry on, a partner in crime, a protector, and a therapist. You were all and so much more but most of all, you were acceptance. No longer did he has to question himself, to hold back, or to be embarrass because of the opinion of others, with you… He’s truly himself. As the sad reminders of a past no longer obtainable slowly breaking down every bit of his facade, there’s one little piece of information that’s undeniably true, unbearably certain and, had been once more reaffirmed in his bleeding heart.   He still loves you desperately. Despite everything that happened, there’s no one else but you. There was no helping the knotting of his stomach and the stuttering that’s unquestionably worse than ever as he stumbles his way through the whole conversation like a bumbling idiot. Although, that in itself isn’t anything strange for he had always been a bumbling idiot whenever you were near, a bumbling idiot mesmerized by your radiant. “Still doing nonsense things I see. When will you learn that guava is not your jam.” “Yea, well maybe your taste in ice cream is just that preposterous. After all this time, I still can’t wrap my head around it. Plus, someone gotta keep buy it or else they’d just get rid of the flavor.” He bites out shyly, only when you had reached for your own cup that he realized the worker had been staring at him for ages. “Oh, sorry, small dark chocolate orange please!” He gave her the brightest smile he could, incentive for wasting so much of her time in the short hour, still completely missing the fact that she would give her life for him to live in the shop. As he stood there rocking back and forth, Bobby glances perhaps not so inconspicuously at the delight spreading through your features as you took the first bite. Sighing contently no doubt in heaven of satisfying the craving of your weird ice cream combination. Although that didn’t stop him from secretly wishing, that contentment was because you were once more by his side. “Are you busy?” You ask casually, as if the both of you were friends, as if you just saw him the week before. “Nope, I’ve been here for like an hour.” He chuckles awkwardly and for a split second, he could see fireworks behind those beautiful eyes as your feature light up in nostalgia. Yet just as fast as it had appeared, the sparks vanish instantly, leaving behind a dark void of reservations. “Ah… Well, I was thinking, if you know, not doing anything…” You stammer on, hand digging a literal pit in your ice cream cup and Bobby thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. Somehow after all these years, after he had given his entire heart to you, you were still nervous around him. “Let’s grab dinner!” He said with utmost excitement before the vibrancy in his voice drones out to something timid, as if fearing crossing the line. “If you’re up for it, of course.”  Always your knight in shining armor, Bobby pulls you from the pit you’ve dug for yourself, leaving you nodding like an idiot. Much to the sadness of the worker, you both wave goodbye as he walks you into the night, leaving behind the ghosts of the past and the happiness of the old times he had held on for as long as he could, doing his best to engrains every little detail to memory. Yet with you right beside him, somehow that seems wrong… And truth be told, that hurts. Even though the walk back to your car a mere 30 seconds, Bobby couldn’t help but hate the silent that was shared between your awkward bodies, hoping that you hate it too. Not that either of you were stranger to silent. It was something inevitable, something of a companion for couples who are lucky enough to share as much time together as you two did. It was the comforting silent of Sunday morning spent cuddling under the blanket, eyes closed yet the both of you were fully aware of the warmth of bodies and soothing rhythm of the rain tickling the windows. It was the content silent shared when you dragged your pillow and blanket into his office, made yourself a bed out of his couch with your nose deep in your book because he had to work late. It was the bitter silent of staring at each other in anger, eyes redden and tears scorching your cheeks, but pride get in the way of giving in. Then it was the silent of regret, silent of wanting nothing more but to dive into each other arms as anger passed and all that was left was your hearts aching to be together once more. This silent, this ridiculously awkward silent of uncertainties, of fearing to cross boundaries, it was something he never felt around you and he hates every damn second of it. “Did you drive by any chance?” You ask and suddenly very aware of the scowl worn on his lips as he stares into the night. A twinge of sadness breaks your heart at the realization that you can no longer be the person to sooth his sadness, calm his anger… And he no longer yours. “No, uh, I took a long walk here.” He replies with a smile, but you know deep down, his soul suffering and regret fills your heart. “We can ride together…” You half suggest, half really just want to know where you stand in his heart or if you even still have a place in his heart. “I tried to go to dinner the other night and, did you know that bbq place we went to so much? It’s gone!” You exclaim in disappointment, flapping your arms about just to ease the tension, although you were sure nothing could. “I was so disappointed.” “They moved a couple months back, we can go if you still want it. I know where they move to.” “Please and thank you.” You put on the best smile for him, already handing over your keys and feel the wind of the past blowing over the empty lot. As you take in a big breath of the slightly cold breeze of the night, you recount the thousand times he had taken the driver seat. Bobby had always looked so good with one hand on the wheel and the other on you, holding your hand or gently placing upon your thigh, it didn’t matter. He’d bobbed his head slowly to the beat vibrating the speakers, looking enticingly handsome focusing on the road ahead. Sometimes there’d be laughter, other times just silent as you did your best to impress your musically inclined boyfriend with your new playlist. He always looks amazing. Not much had changed as you hop into the passenger seat, waiting as Bobby changes the driver seat position before the journey began. The first few minutes felt like hours. The silent between you both were deafening, drowns out even the heavy bass of the song thumping out from the radio. You saw it, the way his right hand near out of sheer instinct reaching toward you, svelte fingers inching closer before the weight of reality settles in. There was no denying that part of you had wished he had let his heart finish what it started, to grab your hand and hold it just as he had for so long. There was no denying also, the depth your heart had dropped realizing Bobby has switches to driving with his right hand, the left leaning against the windowsill, no doubt a precaution for any future accidental touches. Painfully, you reach toward the knob on the radio and turn it a bit louder, filling the confine space with pointless noises. Thankfully the rest of the drive, all 15 excruciating minutes of it went on without a hitch. You resorted to staring out the window and drinking in the familiar sights, Bobby focused on the road before him. Part of you were disappointed that the owners of the restaurant wasn’t there, you’d love to see them and how the time had changed. Yet another part of you, strangely delighted that the long-winded explanation of the who broke up and where things left off were avoided. God knows what kind of ugliness this dinner will dredge up between you and Bobby, no need for someone of your happier past to complicate things. By the way Bobby glances back and forth before settling in with a sigh of perhaps relief, you ponder a guess that he feels the same. “Wow, everything is strangely familiar but at the same time, so different.” You gasp out without much thinking, far too enthrall in the way the menu remained exactly the way you had remembered it. “Yea, strange.” Bobby sighs softly, there was no helping the bitterness pulling his lips into a forced smile. The way his voice echoes out so drab against the exhilaration of the busy restaurant full of smoke and clinking of shot glasses, it was like he had taken a knife to your heart. You lean backward to look for the waiter, purposely hiding the frown playing on your lips at the realization of how incredibly on the nose and insensitive your statement had been. “How’ve you been?” Bobby asked absentmindedly as he tosses a few pieces of meat onto the smoking grill. “As well as can be, I guess…” Your answer catches his attention as the man before you abandon his surveillance of the sizzling meat to steal a glance at your dull features. The way his eyes scrutinizing every bit of your face, no doubt thousands of follow-up questions threatening to spill but he keeps silent, returning his attention back to the seared meat. “You?” “Same old, you know.” “Yea.” The word tumbles from your lips like the worst lie ever told. You and him both know “same old” isn’t exactly the phrase to describe the current state of reality, yet neither really brave enough to open that can of worm. The silent to follow that little exchange was far worse than anything you’ve experienced in this world. Awkward was slowly losing meaning as it treads territory of unpleasantness. As you quietly stuff another wrap into your mouth, you wonder if Bobby regrets this, regrets inviting you to dinner because you sure aren’t. As painful as it was to sit silently beside the man your heart desire and soul craving companionship for years now, you love every second of it. Who knows when would be the next time you’ll have the pleasure of being so close, you could make up the soft scent of his cologne even over the overwhelming stench of alcohol and delectable wisps of grilled-meat. In the end, you found out he had since move from that old apartment you both shared for so long. Make sense honestly, for who could bear being in the place where happiness was slowly turning into ashes. Certainly not you. No longer was he the lowly cubicle dweller but now a supervisor with his own fancy office and fancy car. Talk of work seems to get Bobby going as the faintest trace of a genuine smile graces his lips. You miss this. Honestly couldn’t recall the last time you had a real, honest talk with anyone, let alone someone that could understand you so. You let him onto the big project that had brought you home, and even though it’s only for a few months, you want to make the best time of it. And as that sentence left your lips, you could see it, there just at the tip of his tongue the words Bobby was trying so hard to bite back. You knew he thought of it, thought of rekindling the connection that had been left in the dust between you and him… You knew because you thought of it too. How could this place be the best when he’s not in it and as much as you’d like to be the one to raise the topic, it was best left for him to decide. As the scent of smoke and alcohol engrained into every fiber of your clothes and hair slowly dissipate into the air of the cold night, you found yourself sauntering beside his tall stature. A few steps behind simply because you wanted a few seconds to yourself, a few seconds to really look at the man that was once yours even if it was only the back of his head and the span of his broad shoulders. You both had been walking down memory lanes, a careful dance about the best of memories and the people of the past, avoiding the sour topics of the last few months spent together. “My brother just had a baby!” Bobby exclaims, delight graces his features and you’re left completely mesmerize by the handsome smile, even if it wasn’t really because of you. “Oh, that’s so great! Tell him congratulation, and your parents too. They must be over the moon.” You miss them was what you wanted to end that sentence with but decided in the end it’s best not to. “I will. They are, I am too. Though, I’m still scare of dropping the little one.” He gushes, already pulling his phone out to show you the endless pictures of the little tyke. “So handsome.” You sigh gently, adoring the little baby even if it was just a picture. “Of course, he is! Have you seen his uncle?” a teasing smirk blossoms on those beautiful lips as Bobby wiggles his eyebrows, holding a picture of the little one far too zoom in right next to his own face and for a split second, you have your Bobby. Not the solemn, silent Bobby of the drive to the restaurant, not the shocked and speechless Bobby when he first laid eyes on you. For a split second, he was your Bobby. “Oh, is that so? I think his dad got more to do with him being handsome than his uncle, don’t you think?” You jest with a slap to his arm, something that was once so normal considering you and him, best friends turned lovers. Yet his smile drops, an awkward chuckle replaces the bright sunshine previously beaming from his feature. It hurts, it hurts so bad because this was a reality you thought you had dealt with. Yet nothing prepared you for the raw reaction, the raw pain of the quaint touches that was now anything but. Silent befell over the souls wandering the night under the bare bone of greenery in winter. You listen to the leaves crunching under your feet, pulling your jacket higher as the mischievous tickling of a breeze brushes against your hair. Bobby again a few steps ahead of yourself as he stares longingly at the bright moon above, the same one that had always been there through the thick and thin of your relationship. Still here to witness the strangers-again walking through the night. You wonder if it cried for you, and for your relationship. “Did you ever think about the what-ifs?” Bobby was first to succumb to the pain of silent, yet the perhaps the question he had just asked was far more painful than anything else this failed relationship had brought. “Of course, I have.” The answer rushes from your lips at light speed, nearly in disbelief that there was a part of him that thought you didn’t. “How could I not?” your steps halt as you watch on in incredulity, heart racing and a tear already pricking at the corners of your eyes recalling the days to follow and all the times you wanted to abandon it all to be with him. You know exactly where this was heading but at this point, was there any benefit to holding back the words, suppressing the anguish of love lost? “Hm… I think about it often, ‘bout you.” A solid minute of deafening silent went by before he finally speaks up, stopping on his track too before turning back to face you. He got his hands in his pockets, lips pursing under an undecipherable expression though the pain was far from well hidden. “I still think about everything… I mean, it’s been years but. I can’t help it.” The weight heavy on your heart the moment your eyes skimmed over the destination of your business trip finally exploded, etching and cutting into your scarred heart. The words you wanted to say to him, the words you had forced yourself to push aside in an attempt to live a normal life, it came rushing in the moment you read the name of the city that destiny would lead you back to. The person your heart both desires for and knows would only lead it down the path of relapsing into the mere shell of a person the days following the breakup… it had been heavy and now, it aches. “I thought that suppressing you from my memory would help but it was all the same. I was devastated every waking second, in all my dreams and nightmares.” Bobby muses but there was something far beyond the emptiness of his eyes, glossing over with an emotion you couldn’t decipher and that scares you. It rattles all your cages and there was no helping the ugly thoughts coming. “We both were, Bobby. I mean, you say it as if I wasn’t there… As if I wasn’t the other half of the relationship.” Beneath the sorrow, beneath the pain of the part of your heart you thought was dead resurrected by the man you love, anger simmering. His tone, the words he had chosen… how could he… “Were you?” There was nothing, nothing about the man looming before you that could mirror even a fraction of the emotion surging through your body… Well, nearly nothing. The way his jaws clenching so tightly and the kindness formerly tugging those beautiful eyes into crescents of laughter vanishing at a rate that left your heart dizzy… He’s angry. Anger wasn’t something you knew of Bobby. Frustration, maybe. After all, you weren’t a walk in the park to be with so there were times minor disagreements would surface. Yet anger wasn’t an emotion you knew he could possess, not toward you. He had gotten angry at the guy who was far too handsy with you at his high school reunion, and the time when you ran to him in panic at a club because some creep never learned the meaning of “no”… Never with you. “Are you seriously questioning my feeling right now?” You too were teetering on the blade of anger. “Have you forgotten those nights, those weeks before everything ended?” Your voice raising without needing for you to tell it to, the disbelief in your heart overdrive every other function in your shivering body. Had he in all the years of loneliness forgotten just how much you had loved him… still love him. You’ve considered all the options, not taking the job, passing up the promotion, quitting, switching career, all of it. You considered it all and there was always one ending, the enticing thought of a future with Bobby. You were ready to make peace with your decision but in the end, it was Bobby who had held your hand and told you it was okay. You cried and you fought but ultimately, he was your weakness. He ensured that no guilt would plague you as you made the final decision of leaving. “No, I remember it clearly.” That sentence, Bobby had dreamt about it endlessly, of finally confronting you of your lies… How satisfying it would be to finally have his last laugh… So why, why does it hurt so much now that it had finally took its first breath of reality… Why does it kill him so watching the tears streaming down the rosy skin of your cheeks, the way your features had contorted into anguish? “I remember it because I was the one who told you to leave. I was the one who had to packed up our home and all the memories it held.” The way he bites out “our”, love was definitely not the driving force behind it. “Have you gone mad?” Your words nearly as feeble as the breaths you’re heaving. Neither anger or guilt were present on your face but rather complete and utter disbelief “If you knew all that, then how could you question my pain. I ripped half of me, my entire heart out when I left this place.” And for a second it confuses him, the part, the largest part of him that had loved you so dearly begins to doubt the truth he had held on for so long. “No, not at all. I’m completely sane and sober” But hell hath no fury like a betrayed man. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe you’re making me spell out every. Single. Thing.” “Please, because I have no clue what you’re even going on about.” Exasperation and disappointment of being question, of having your heart on trial finally reaching an unprecedented height. Hands carding roughly through your wind-blown locks before harshly wiping away the tears falling uncontrollably. A part of Bobby cowers seeing the red rashes scratched onto the smooth skin of your cheeks from the sleeves of your sweater painfully soaking away your tears. He would never wish harm onto you, even if you were the one doing it, especially if you were the one doing it. Needless to say, the protective part of him wants so badly to pull your hand into his, to cradle your cheeks and press healing kisses onto them but this mess, he started this. Yet the irrational side of him have had enough, far past the emotional limit a person could handle. “I ran into your boyfriend. Yea, the guy you said was nothing more than a co-worker.” He sneers and you could feel your blood runs cold. The disdain, the disgust in the dagger like glare burning your skin left your knees weak in the worst way possible. “Can’t believe I bought it. You know, I was actually glad I ran into him at first. Hearing how happy you were with your new job and already, just few months in, you were already on the fast track to a big promotion.” “Bobby…” You whisper his name, hoping it still hold the magic it once did, but the meek reality is far from the distant vibrant memories. “No, no, no. You don’t get to be all puppy dog eyes and pretend like it never happened.” He scoffs at you and perhaps it hurts more than it should have. “And then, so casually, he told me that you two were together, living together in fact.” “No, Bobby. You don’t understand. It’s all a big misunders-“ “No! Big misunderstanding? Falling in love, moving in together, fucking someone else all in the short months span since our breakup. You call that a misunderstanding? Please, Y/n. Am I that much of a joke to you?” He grunted out the painful sentence and it left you breathless, your lungs could barely keep up with the tears let along the bombs he drops on you. There was no other reaction but silently cry as Bobby continues his tirade. “I gave up my happiness, my entire life so you wouldn’t have to. And the big thank I got was you fucking the guy you said was nothing more than a good friend. You must love me so much that you couldn’t wait to let the next guy you see fuck all the memories of me out of your goddamn brain… All the while I was living like a goddamn zombie. All alone, every waking minute, every second of sleep consumed by the thought of you.” Exasperation begins to wear down on Bobby as he pants heavily, eyes still tearing your body apart with years of anger all pent up in his feeble heart. “Was it all a lie? The last few months of our relationship, it was… Wasn’t it? Because if I were to believe, to hold on to the last shred of the you I fell in love with… You wouldn’t forget me in just a mere few months.” You contemplate the next few words very carefully, taking all the moments, all the deceits leading up to this point into consideration. Life had never been fair, but nothing could contest against the spitefulness of the grand scale of things this very second. It had dealt you a hand that you wish surprise was what you’re feeling, but alas, you’ve always knew this was a possibility the second you spun your web of lies. You understand full well the implication Bobby had just brought to light, but there was nothing left to say. “I don’t think my words matter much to you this second.” You breathe through your sob. “Maybe in a few weeks, a few months it will. Or it might never will be…” the thought of never being anything meaningful to Bobby ever again, that was a pain you thought never will you have to experience. But in the end, this big tumultuous ride of a relationship had already thrown everything else at you and the end is nigh. “So, I won’t stand here and make some big excuses because I think I’ve done enough.” That was all you could let out, all the though your brain could form before it shut down in a muddle mess. Your heart aches far worse than all the pain it had ever been through combine and you didn’t know what to do to soothe it. The small glimpses your vision clear enough to allow you to steal a glance at the man you love but just destroyed, Bobby isn’t doing much better. Body dropping onto the cold stone pavement of the path, he got his head cradling in between his arms and silently, his body shakes with tears and the reality that was settling in far too fast. The thought of you cheating on him wasn’t one he wanted to be acquaintance with or even one he had formulated before the run in with your boyfriend. Yet the happiness of knowing you had moved on diminished fast as the logical side of himself began calculating the time and the disbelief of his heart that you would forgotten about him already in the short time apart. Soon the sound of sniffles and painful sobs was nothing more but distant echo of the night as you both settle into the present. This is it for the wonderful friendship, the by-chance love that had bloomed between two young souls doing their best surviving the rush of life together. You stare at him with all the love you still have coursing through your blood and he, at you as if a distant memory he was ready to let go. Nothing was said but the drumming of your headache burst through, drowning out everything in front of you. “I’ll drive you home.” He whispers impassively, eyes blank as he scans the features of your face. Were you always so sad? Have your eyes always been so sunken with pain and your skin so pale? The Bobby of the past still clinging on, caring yet he knows his time was ending. So, for one last time, he’ll care, just for tonight. “You’re in no condition to drive.” “No, I’m okay.” “Y/n, just please. For once, don’t fight me. I don’t care how things ended up between us, I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you.” You silently shadow the footstep of the man you no longer have the right to smile at. After tonight, you and he will be nothing more but strangers again, just as you were that fateful night at the train station. After tonight, you’ll have to respect his wishes and pretend as if life hadn’t given you the best years anyone could ever hope for. Once more the same moon as all the days before watches over as your life stream splits into two. You wonder if it too, is sad for the tragic love story.

It has been a month since he last saw you, a month since he accused you of the worst things a man could accuse the woman he loves. He crossed all the lines and all the boundaries that night and it left him an empty shell of the man he once was. After all these years, after all the pain had been dealt with, there was still a bit of hope, the last thread of a beautiful relationship connecting his life to yours. Yet in one moment of delirium, he crumbled all the effort of all the years before because he was bitter. It broke his heart, the way pain washed over your beautiful features as the accusation that had torn so many relationships apart left his lips. He left you so speechless, you stood there and took his abuse silently, clutching your heart. In the moment when sleep evaded him, all he could think about was the horrible things he had said and your nearly lifeless body as he dropped you off that night… He has turned into the monster he promised himself to never be. Somehow all the pain seems so much worse tonight as he lays awake in bed, hours away from his birthday, another birthday alone… Truly alone for he had burned all the bridges that could potentially lead him back to you. Eyes studying the world just beyond his little window as his mind drifts to you, Bobby wonders if your project was going well and if you were leaving soon. He had thought of calling you, of course, but how could he after saying such horrendous things without even granting you the small wish of explaining everything. Did you realize that night that his phone’s background was still a picture of you? That thought warms his heart for a second before the logical side of himself butts in, reminding bobby once more that you probably don’t care, not anymore at least since he had taken all the precious time you’ve both had and ripped it all to unsalvageable shreds. Yet perhaps his heart knows best after all as that ringtone, the one he has always associated with sunshine and happiness, like an omen echoing through the darkness of his room. Bobby didn’t believe it at first, staring at it blankly before the third ring reminding him that you could hang up any second now. He scrambles to his feet, hastily picking up the phone and nearly dropping it. “Hello? Y/n?” Bobby huffs out impatiently, needing to hear your voice even if there was a slight chance you had called to yell at him. “Uhm, are you the boyfriend of the owner of this phone?” A gruff male voice spills from the speaker sending fear to his heart. Jaws tighten and fist clenches tightly, he grunts out a rough yes, nevermind the fact that it was a blatant lie. “Could you come pick up your girlfriend. She been here for hours and I don’t think she should drink anymore.” The voice speaks up hesitantly, growing distant as if the guy was glancing away to check something, someone. “I don’t understand, what happened?” Bobby questions, already grabbing his jacket and keys, on his way even though he has no clue where you were. “Your girlfriend, she came in, had a few too many drinks, and would not stop talking about her amazing boyfriend… Well, you, I guess. Then she cried for a bit and said she was going to call her boyfriend but passed out before the line even start ringing.” The bartender explains, sighing a bit, no doubt done with your antic. “If you don’t mind, please come pick her up. I don’t want to send her home on her own. Le Lune, do you need direction?” “No, I know exactly where. Thank you.” If his heart beats any faster, Bobby suspects that his blood vessels would burst. Worries and dreadfulness engulf his body as he speeds through the empty night, anxious to see you, anxious to know you’re okay. His fingers tap frantically as his car tears through the night toward the place that holds his entire life. As he bursts into the nearly empty bar, a few eyes glare his way vexingly, loud slam of the door had disrupted their night cap and meaningless conversations. Bobby glances about, looking for that familiar figure before a young man wave frantically, calling him over. “Bobby, I assume.” Holding up a phone in front of him, the bartender glances up then back at the screen with a satisfying nod of his head. “Picture checks out. Here you go.” He hands back the phone to Bobby, screen still illuminated, and the background, it sends a pang to his heart. It was him, smiling bright, exuding all the happiness of a man at the height of his love. And for a moment, time stood still. He thinks about you going about in your daily life… His face being the first thing you see in the morning and the last thing you see at night. He’s there when you check whether it was time for lunch or time for homecoming. You’ve managed to keep that part of the old life the same despite everything being torn apart and the foundation of your relationship crumbling into nothingness.  But now was no time to be sentimental for a much more pressing issue was at hands. “Yes, we spoke on the phone. Where is she?” His voice frantic, panic wrecking his entire being. He thought there was nothing worse than watching you walk away but this, knowing that you were all alone… There is nothing in his short life thus far that scare him so.   “I left her on the booth over there, didn’t want her to hurt herself falling over the stool.” Sighing a few thanks, Bobby closes up your tab and left a hefty tip to a very delighted bartender before making his way toward the booth in the far end corner where his sleeping beauty awaits. Leaning back against the red velvet plush of the back rest, your eyes tightly shut and hair a bit dishevel but he swears, you were still so beautiful. Blur streaks of mascara smearing down the soft skin of your cheeks, still so redden and hot, your chest rises and falls gently as a soft snore emanating through the near empty bar. The breath he had been holding ever since the voice of the bartender reached his ears finally dislodge itself from his throat at the sight of you so peacefully snoozing away. Bobby sighs heavily as his eyes scan to your bare shoulders, dress far too thin to shield you from the harshness of the world. “Sweetie, let’s go home.” He whispers softly against your temple where he had just placed a thankful kiss. Though he knew that kiss was crossing every lines and boundaries, there was no helping the natural reaction bursting out of the man who for the past hour had been so uncertain of the safety of his love. He’s thankful, so thankful that insomnia had been so gracefully blessing him with another restless night, thankful for the bartender, and thankful for you. In your most drunken stupor, he was still on your mind and that, just that small thought of you still valuing his pathetic self enough to call him up… Well, it eases his heart and soul in ways unimaginable. “Bobby…” You groan sleepily, despite the stench of alcohol seeping through your every pore, there was no denying how adorable the way you mew his name. Fingers rubbing at your drowsy eyes, you peers through the clumpy curtain of the mascara that was now mostly staining your cheeks than shielding your lashes. Blinking a few times, a smile blooms on your lips at the familiar face and endearing scent, your head instinctively nudges closer into the crook of his neck, stealing all the warmth the man got to offer. “Yea… Sweetheart?” He tests the water, considering holding back the pet name that was only ever meant for you. Yet just as everything else had when you’re around, it was near involuntary. “I love you.” You mewl out a softly amidst a small giggle before diving into his arms. “Can we go home?” Now, Bobby knows full well this was nothing but a drunken sleep talk but that sentence, home, it lights his heart on fire. He was always the one that’d get drunk, coming home laughing and diving into your arms. This was something new, something so different that despite everything else that was happening, deep down a blissfulness spreading through his body. Your head lulling gently, falling right into his chest as your soft snores continue to echo through the darken parking lot. He places you gently into the passenger seat, buckling you up before placing yet another kiss to your forehead. The steady pace his heart had regained finally seeing you safe and sound was once more beating erratically as the moonlight, dirtying by a bit of the neon sign of the bar seemingly adding to the ethereal glow of your beauty. Your lips so soft, cherry red and plump enticing his soul to its own perdition. Just as easily as breathing, he could effortlessly steal a kiss this very moment and you wouldn’t even care nor have any knowledge of it the next day. Yet as much as he wanted that, Bobby knows it means nothing and mess up beyond anything he had done up to this point if you don’t kiss him back, if you don’t want him. So, he brushes a bit of hair tickling your nose out of the way before shutting the door and begins the journey back home. So strange the way you feel so familiar, so right in his arms yet the world revolving around you, the very nature of your relationship is anything but that. No longer was he the companionship to your night out nor could he provide the care he once did on the rare occasion you’d drink past the point of clarity. As he gently places you into the comforting embrace of his bed, a twinge of pain thumps at his heart before electrifying through the entirety of his being. If this was the you and him of the past, Bobby would already be changing you into the comfort of your PJ, knowing just how much you despise bra and all that it stands for, nothing worse than sleeping in a bra, you used to say. Gently, though drunk you has the sleep capability of Snorlax, Bobby still took great care to not disturb your sleep as he delicately worked his way to wipe away your makeup, remembering how pimply you’d get after just one night of forgoing makeup removal. Although he never thought there was anything wrong with it, and that you were just as beautiful as ever even with a few new red friends on our cheeks, he hated seeing you pouting especially over something so trivial. But this is now, and this is the you and him of the present… There’s no “us” and there’s nothing to tie your life streams together other than a few good memories and a ocean of pain. As you roll to your side and snugging closer to the overwhelming scent of home and comfort, a tear burns down his cheek. Bobby watches on helpless because he had crossed far too many lines tonight… And no longer did he have the right. So, he did what little he could, brushing your hair gently away before placing a pillow under your head. He wraps you up in a big cocoon of blankets, situating himself beside your peaceful self just for a second, lingering. He wonders how much different life would be had you stay, had he gone after you… Maybe you’d be his wife, maybe you’d be the mother to his child, children even. Or maybe you both weren’t meant to be together and the tough time would tear you both apart regardless of who stayed and who went. There’s so much what-ifs, so many fantasies he wished you both could’ve see the ending of but alas this is the reality you’ve both chosen and there’s nothing else to do but to sleep in the bed you both have made. Pulling over the cold blanket he had just gotten out of the closet, Bobby settles himself into the couch, sleep was no more of a friend than it had been before the trek through the night toward you. Suddenly, even the distant siren beyond his living room window lost its spark as his eyes traverse toward the tightly shut bedroom door. He could see nothing beyond the white wooden door, silent and stoic in the night, hiding you away from his eyes. Yet his heart knows just beyond the threshold, warmth and comfort await, its owner awaits. Thirty minutes then come the full hour, Bobby was still staring at the cold barrier protecting his princess as his mind roams back to the wonderful days of sharing cover and warm breath tickling soft skin. The echo of each tick of the clock louder than the one before, reminding him once more of the present. His body exhausted yet his mind runs at thousand miles an hour, tracing over every single mistake he had made. The whirling of helicopter replaced by the chirping of the early birds, out and about ready for another day. He has been far too lost in the distant world his mind had made up for you and him when the loud honking of a car somewhere across the apartment complex finally break the trance your present had put Bobby in. He forces himself to turn the other way, blanket pulls over his head before his eyes forced shut hoping to find peace in the short rest till morning come. Surely the consequences of his words will greet him as the day break, so for now, he’ll take whatever sleep he can get. The very next moment consciousness graces his present, Bobby had long forgotten about your drunken confession and that he had very much braved the cold of December to rescue his princess from darkness and strangers’ gazes of the bar. Throwing the blanket that was already very much half pooling on the floor, Bobby mutters a cuss for being so careless, having once again falling asleep on the couch in the cold embrace of the mistress of winter. Drowsy and barely stable, he scratches at an invisible itch, carding his fingers through the soft brown locks before stumbling carelessly into the door of his own bedroom. The loud bang of his door swinging wildly into the wall was followed by a sound that sends shiver down his spine, far worse than the frigidity of morning cold air against his bare skin. The softest groan reaches his ears, delicate and cute as if a kitten awakening from her slumber yet instead of adoration, all he could feel was fear. The giant blanket burrito stirring on his bed drowns his being in panic, brain frantically searching for an answer, a clue as to what the hell had happened the night before. One foot than two, Bobby inches closer to the sleepy bundle, muscles flexing, ready to put up a fight to the drowsy bandit. The sight beholding the surprised man was beyond his imagination, far far beyond the fathomable realm of situations his sleepy mind was prepared for. The memories of the night before come flooding back like a broken dam after a long storm, waves thrashing his heart against the rocks of the past. The quaint touches, your love confession, everything rushes back in a matter of second and it left Bobby breathless in all the best way possible. Somehow in between the time he had left you safe and sound in the comfort of his bed and the moment he had clumsily burst through the threshold, you had managed to create a tiny nest for yourself. Bundling around your body is the hoodie he had carelessly tossed onto the ground the night before along, cradling between your cheek and your hand, the sweat-soaked fabric of his t-shirt. It brings peace to his heart knowing that after all this time, you still find comfort in clinging onto him in your drunken state. So many nights he’d toss and turn simply because you too were doing the same, stirring in your sleep, trying your best to maximize the amount of his body you could hoard for your own. He had forgotten how many nights he took for granted, tossing you a bundle of his clothes simply because he could take no longer the exhaustion, pushing you off to your side of the bed. What he’d give to get those nights back now, to cuddle up to your sleepy self and bask in the way you had taken on the scent of his cologne. He stares in awe for a moment, considering waking you yet in light of the alcohol vapor lingering about still, assaulting his nose, Bobby’s sure you’d love nothing more than a few more minutes of snoozing so he left you be. Bobby could count on one hand the amount of time he had braved the kitchen all on his own when you were still a constant in his life. 90% of those times turned out horribly and most definitely ended up with you cleaning up after his mess. Yet that was then, and this is the now of him spending most of his time alone, dining for one. Fast food and eating out sufficed for as long as it could for there’s no replacing the coziness of a homemade meal. So with burnt pots and scarred fingers, Bobby eventually learned to take care of himself even though there’s no comparison to you. A simple soup bubbling away on the stove, he debates with himself on whether or not you still like eggs. God, you must find him insane having a monologue about eggs while burning his fingers checking the sad state of his porridge pot. Deep down, a soft warmth settling in his chest thinking about the simple breakfast coming together… You, sitting beside him at the dining table. And although he knows for certain the conversation had won’t be a pleasant one, there’s no denying the little bit of joy, having a tiny bit of normalcy back into his sad daily life even if it’s just for a one morning. Far too lost amongst the cloud of steam shooing away the frost-bitten skin of his naked torso and the clanking of metal spoon against pan, Bobby misses completely the silent shuffling growing louder. “You really need to invest in a wooden spatula. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to use metal on nonstick surfaces?” Your words so gentle, all the pain of your last meeting evades. In its place nothing but the warmth he was used to, and perhaps a bit of gruff from a hangover. “Oh… Is that why half my pots and pans are useless now? Even butter sticks to it.” Your sudden entrance got the man hopping back out of shock, yet nevertheless, a shy smile already on his lips. “Yea, you should throw those out. Don’t eat the nonstick coating, it could make you sick.” Inching closer, you let the flame of the burners lulling you back to reality with its wonderful warmth, putting color back into your pale cold skin brushed with the cold of early morning. Eyes carefully going over the bubbling pot of hangover soup, sunny side up eggs, and porridge, a smile blooms on your tired lips at his effort. Good to know he was at the least taking care of himself with homemade meals. “that’s quite an impressive spread you got going there.” “I, uh, can’t take credit for the soup. I bought that.” Bobby shares a sheepish smile before rummaging to plate the egg borderlines on overcooked. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to eat so I just kind of made both rice and porridge… Should be done soon. It’s not much but I figure it’ll be easy on your stomach. You should go wash up.” He beams at you, the brightest you’ve seen since the first time you laid eyes on the man at the ice cream shop just a month ago. “Why are you staring at me like that?” “uhm… I don’t exactly have anything here to, uh, wash up.” “Oh! Right. I’ll be back.” Tearing away from the pot one second from boiling over, Bobby nearly tumble over knocking into the couch before running back with a bundle in his arms. “Here, these are the smallest clothes I could find. I’m sure you’d be more comfortable in these than…” He eyes the small dress on your body, disheveled and stained from lord knows what yet the simple act of nodding toward your less than pristine choice of clothing soon turns into a walk down memory lane. He traces over every little mole on your skin, the soft curves of your body, down to your delicate fingers. He misses every single detail about you, your laugh, the little dance in the confinement of the passenger seat, your body. Tears brim his eyes as recent past come rushing in, giving him a dose of the lonely reality. “Uhm, here.” “Thank you.” You grab hastily the bundle thrusted into your embrace, not missing the reddening eyes and the silent sniffle. You say nothing more, knowing it’d only add to the sad reality that was you and him, making your way back to the bedroom you thought was only a dream. Any other day and the steaming water washing away the shame of the night before would be something divine, heaven sent. It would mean relief that you had survived another night spent pathetically living precariously through the illusion of the happier past that the bitterness of hard liquor had granted you access to. Yet today, it’s painful, burning every bit of your skin with the reality that you had very much damage the last bit of good remained of the girl he once loved, if there was any good left after the lies you’ve told. Mirror clouded with the lingering steam and vapor of your silent tears, you pull on the clothes barely fitting onto your body, twist and turn to view the outfit hanging loosely. The reflection of yourself in the mirror, blurred, barely visible through the cloud of your regrets. Even through the billows of water vapors and the surprisingly sparkling scent of neroli mingling with bergamot of his body wash, you couldn’t help but let your nose trail on the ghost of Bobby’s scent. You know it was crazy to even try for he had handed you clothes shrouded with the fresh scent of laundry detergent yet there was no helping your hands from bunching up the fabric of the ill-fitted shirt, bringing it close to your nose imagining it was just shed off of his body. Your mind went back to the late nights of digging your face as far into his body as you could, taking in the comforting warmth and soft scent of faint cologne and Bobby. Sorrow overtaking your senses because soon enough, you’d have to leave the safety of this hideout. So just for a few minutes, you let your heart has it moment. Table was set by the time you finished freshen up, Bobby graciously waiting by the table, scrolling through his phone to pass the time. Though the clothes might be small for him, the t-shirt he had given you near hitting knee length and the pair of short barely holding on. The smile he offers was far short of the one you were used to but nevertheless, better than the scowl and pain etching so deep on his features the night everything ended. The meal begins in complete silent despite the friendly small talk and although it was nothing surprising, there’s still a bit of pain lingering for tableside conversation wasn’t something scarce between you two. “I’m really sorry, for bothering you like this.” You say finally, noting the small glances he steals, unable to any longer swallow another bite with the air thicker than tar suffocating all your senses. “I- there’s not enough words to say sorry and thank you for going out of your way to pick me up. I know this wasn’t what you imagined starting your weekend with.” He was the drop of water to quench your thirst, yet you couldn’t imagine the same could be said about you, not after everything that happened. “Y/n, there’s no bother. This is the least I could do after all those years you took care of me.” Was this how it will be? Polite banter and careful dances about the rich history your souls shared for so long? Bobby watches carefully as your dainty fingers pushing your spoon about, rare bites taken he surmises could barely even be qualified as a bite but rather formality to reward his effort. So many question bubbling close, so close to the surface, he could feel them knotting in his throat. Why were you out so late, who were you drinking with, what was your intention behind calling him… He knew your actions were merely alcohol induced yet isn’t it also true that drunkenness only amplifies true intention? “Is something bothering you? Is the food that horrible?” He had to do it, unable to bear the desolation paints so clearly across your features. “Oh, no, not at all. I’m just…” You consider for a second to lie, blame it on the uneasiness of your stomach souring the morning after… But lie isn’t what either of you need, it’s not what Bobby deserve. “I’m so sorry. I really can’t do this.” “Do what?” Panic slowly engulfs his body watching the color leaving your skin, anguish slowly replacing the small smile you had watching him fumbling over the hot soup. “You’re scaring me, Y/n…” “I tried, I really tried to pretend as if this is normal… But I just, I can’t get over the fact that I intruded your life after you had so explicitly expressed your desire to never meet again. This must be so uncomfortable for you.  And I, there isn’t enough sorry I can give for last night, for all the nights before.” Your heart vomits out the guilt pent up and pushed away for a moment of joy pretending as if watching Bobby struggling over breakfast was something normal, just another typical morning in your household. You wanted so badly to hang on to this last piece of happiness with him, to have one last breakfast as a “couple” but alas, guilt was eating you alive even before you realize it was there. “I should go.” No sooner than the last syllable of the sentence left your lips, his hand was already on yours, cradling, squeezing so tightly you could feel the weight on your heart becoming undone. “Don’t… Please. I know I’m despicable, and I’ve accused you of the most horrendous thing… And I’m sorry for that.” His eyes calm, like the grey sky just before a big storm breaking but just beneath the roughness of his voice, panic. You could feel that guilt too was wrecking him apart and it kills you. You’d rather him hate you, never want to again see your face but guilt... Guilt is what keep people from moving on, and that’s not what you want for Bobby. “What you did after we parted, it was none of my business. I know too that heartbreak is much easier dealt with if you have someone to lean on. I crossed far beyond all the lines and I, I’m just so sorry.” “No, your anger was well deserved. I told you lies, that part was true. And I thought for the longest that if you hate me, it’ll be easier for you to move on and be happy. If I can’t provide you with the love and happiness you deserve, then at least someone else can.” How far will you be able to carry your truthfulness, only time can tell. But for now, you’ll do your best to close finally end this chapter of your life and give it the closure it deserved, one that should’ve been written years ago. “That was the sole reason behind everything I’ve done.” “I know you’re not so cruel, and I know in my heart that you wouldn’t forget about me so soon after, just as well as I know you’d never cheat on me… So please, Y/n, end my misery and tell me the truth. I know that night I let anger taken over, but your words matter to me more than you could ever know.” He begs, hands clutching onto yours so tightly, the last line of hope for the drowning man. “When I said it was a misunderstanding, that part was true. I would never cheat on you and rest assure the time we spent together, no matter how shitty, my heart only ever had you in it.” To finally clear up the unspoken thoughts of that night, you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. Bobby too, seems to have felt the same effect as his head hang low, long sigh release the breath he had been holding. “And the matter of whom my heart had belonged to following our breakup, it was you… Still to this day, only you. It was always you and I’m sorry if I’ve made you thought otherwise, for the pain I’ve caused.” “Why? Why would you- How, what about all the things your boyfriend had said?” “There was, still is no one else. It has always been you and I’ve only lied because I thought it’d protect you. Whatever he had told you, it was done under my instruction.” Tears were once more streaming down your cheeks, sullying the bowl of porridge he had worked so hard on. Bobby falls back into his chair, body limp, no strength for anything else for his brain had taken it all to process the revelation falling from your lips. For reason unknown, you thought it now is the best time for another bite of food only to find it choking with sadness, bitter the entire way down. “Why would you do that? Why would you let me believe in a lie that made me saw you in such a disgusting light? Y/n?” He repeated your name like a mantra, frustration, love, anger, nostalgia, it all mixed up in an undecipherable wave drowning Bobby in guilt. The things he said, oh the things he had accused you of, how could he ever repent for his sins. “I came to visit, a month after we ended things… I knew it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t bear not seeing you. It nearly drove me insane not being able to see you, to speak to you daily.” Your head now too hanging low, recalling the days when wounds were fresh and pain so excruciating, you’ve gone numb. You recall too the excitement of finally seeing that handsome smile and feel the familiarity of happiness. “I was stopping by our coffee shop, figured, if I was to show up and ruin your day, might as well bring some caffeine.” You chuckle bitterly at the past, thinking of how shock he would’ve looked if you just show up at his work with coffees in hand just as you used to. “That was when I realized, we needed to move on if we even hope to survive.” “What are you talking about?” Confusion plagues his features and it was rightfully so. This insane misunderstanding had been solely on you. “I saw you with that girl, seemed like a date. I was happy, honestly, seeing you smiling, going out, having fun. So, I left. I thought that was it, you were moving on and so should I. You could imagine how hurt I was, hearing from our friends that you were still so hung up on what happened to us that you were barely living.” Your eyes trail along the sharp lines of his jaws to the soft pout he has on his lips. Bobby got his gaze on you, watching intently with bated breaths and once more his hands found their way to yours. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/n. It wasn’t anyone’s fault.” The soft sniffles have grown, echoing, spreading through the dead air of the living room that was warming up by the soft sunlight peeking through the living room’s windows. So opposite of the harsh tone and chiding words of the night just mere month ago, his words ring with the dejection of a desperate man. A man that wants so badly for you to realize that the pain of breakup was no one’s fault. It was a part of life and however unpleasant it might be, it was simply inevitable. After all, there are always only two outcomes when hearts begin to beat as one… And neither of you were favored by the grand scale of life. When silent was what met his protest, Bobby finally gazes upon your frail face, glossy with tears and guilt. He wrapped your cheeks in the protective hold of his hands, thumbs gently ridding of the tear hiding away the rosy of your cheeks.  And as if it was his last lifeline out of the tumultuous sea of heartbreak, he places the most delicate kiss upon your forehead. Bobby wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do but it was what his heart told him to. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault. I just needed to deal with pain at my own speed.” “I was hanging on to the image of you, so happy even if it was with someone else and somehow it got me through. Day by day, some days hurt more than others but knowing you were happy, it made my heart content. When I found out you’ve isolated yourself from the rest of the world, I was eaten alive with guilt. Guilt that this all happened because I left… Guilt because I went on living while you were suffering… So, when my friend texted me that he ran into you, I decided to take things into my own hand.” Embolden by the leap he had just taken, you rest your forehead against his, wrapping your own hand around his wrists, fearful still that this is all just another reunion dream your tired mind had conjured up. But that thought was soon banish as Bobby pulls your hands up to his lips and the wings of hundred small kisses flutter against your soft skin, reminding you that he was very much right before you. There are few moments in life that can capture the fleeting nature of life and aside from the moment when you had bid goodbye to your entire life, the very second that text had flashed across your screen was the realest moment in your short days on this Earth. It was so simple, “Hey, I ran into Bobby. He asked about you!”. How could a few sentences, so straightforward, no underlying messages could mess with your heart so much that you felt all the progress you’ve made, all those day coping, surviving this new found loneliness reverting back to the beginning. You contemplated, telling him you were fine, telling him you were miserable, beg for him to take you back… In the end, you asked your dear friend a favor you knew you could never pay back for. A fabricated life in place of the pathetic one you’ve been living. You painted a home with two dogs, a loving business partner, best friend, and lover all in one. Mornings were filled with laughter as you both fought over coffee even though there was more than enough to go around. Nights echoed with the scent of sweat and lingering moans of pleasure as the delectable cloud of a homemade meal wasp around the kitchen, awaiting to be dine. You thought of the future that never was with Bobby as you begged your dear friend to lie for you. “God…” Hands still snuggling yours, Bobby let the weight of his head resting against your knuckles as he mutters soft cusses. He was so wrong, he made you out to be the villain, yet the truth was so far from all the fuck up scenarios he had conjured up in his mind. “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry.” “Don’t be. I started this, none of this was your fault. At the time, I really thought it was the best way to get you to move on... I didn’t think about the consequences, that it would backfire. And I don’t think I can ever make up for it.” A heavy sigh left your lips and your heart wishes so desperately for Bobby to place another kiss upon your skin… Perhaps this time he’d settle for one on your quivering, chapped lips. “How about just start being honest with me? Hmm?” He leans in close, dragging your chair effortlessly right beside his. For the first time since the conversation start, you let yourself focus on the starlight sparkling in his eyes. You were so scare, deadly afraid that if you gaze into his eyes, all you could see was emptiness. Oh, how wrong you were because there’s so much light and warmth emanating from them, so beautiful and tender. “I don’t even know if I should be-“ “No, I know what you’re trying to say. Did you really think I’m letting you go a second time? I’ve got you here, even after the spite I’ve thrown at you, you’re still here with me. You must be insane if you think you’re walking away one more time.” Your self-pity drowns out with all the love his heart could give. Hands once more gently encasing your cheek as he shushes away the lingering tears. “There’s no other place you should be but here. Stay with me.” Your heart nearly explodes in light of the words you desperately hope to hear for the longest. You’ve always wonder what would have happened if you had just stay, screw career, screw the world. What would’ve happened if you had let your heart taken control of your body and soul, letting love win? Like the most wonderful Christmas miracle, life, Bobby had offered you a second chance at the life you wish you have, only this time you both have matured and learned so much from heartache. It wasn’t an easy road here, but it felt so much like the first time. You dive into his arms that was more than ready to welcome you back for they had gone on far too long without feeling the your curves under them. Tears was once more falling, but this time Bobby let them fall because he knows it was out of sheer bliss and happiness… Because he too is crying along with you. Neither of you dare move an inch even as awkward and aching as the position of your intertwining bodies currently in. Breakfast long forgotten and hangover was just something so an hour ago, you could only feel the warmth and solace. “I still love you so much.” It feels as though an eternity had passed since you crawled awkwardly into his arms. You shyly confess, ear pressing up against his chest as the sound of his heart vigorously beating calms yours. “I know, you told me last night.” “I did?” A smirk was already blooming on his lips when you found the strength to pull away from his hug. “I’ll be honest, if you hadn’t sleepily professed your love to me… I don’t know if I would’ve offered breakfast. Not because I don’t want you to stay but rather… After that night, I’m just so scare you’d never want to see me again and crossing more boundary was the last thing I ever want.” Gently brushing away a few locks of hair that was obstruction his view of you, Bobby confesses. “But now, I wouldn’t have this morning any other way, with anyone else. You don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this.” “Thank you, for waiting.” You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, taking in the soft sighs of satisfaction and the gentle sweet words being hum by your loving man. “Why were you out so late last night. I was so scare when I pick up the phone and it wasn’t you on the other end.” Pressing a kiss onto your cheek, Bobby once more has his hand grazing the skin of your face, taking in the way you glow softly under the morning sunlight. He was thanking God that you’re here, in his arm, letting the hotness of your skin under his fingertips shooing away the fear of the night before. “I was so worry, I’m sure I’ve broken every traffic law there is.” “It’s always a bit hard for me around time of our anniversary and, well, your birthday.” You lament the pain the comes twice a year, never fail like an ominous alarm reminding you of your loneliness. “I’ve learned that alcohol numbs the pain…” Your revelation seems to only worsen the concern plaguing the handsome man. “At the very least, it prevented my soul from wandering down the path of self-destruction, wallowing in guilt and the thought of who were celebrating with…” There was no missing the way his eyes dance about as if relearning all the curves of your features and committing to memories all the new freckles and mole you’ve acquired since. Bobby was never shy about eye contact, so it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to really just focus on the way your lashes flutter, still heavy with a bit of tear and sorrow recalling the bitter past. Though soon enough, the reality of just how close you were to him, so close that he could feel your breath hot against his skin, it sinks in fast and he couldn’t stop his eyes from falling onto your lips. He tries, really hard but in the end, no matter which route he took, in the end, his gaze returns to your lips. You too, couldn’t deny the calling for that long-awaited kiss to happen and finally let your heart takes control. You wish you could see his expression as your eyes flutter close, to witness the soft gasp leaving his soul but alas, the soft touches of his lips against yours exceed far beyond anything else. He leans down finally, lips so soft and gentle against the roughness of your own. The first few seconds, neither of you could bear parting way so you both still, taking in the saltiness of leftover tears and the familiar touch that had evaded your lives for so long. Fireworks blossom within your soul, louder and more vibrant with each passing second relishing in the taste of him. But soon that first spark was barely enough to sustain the insatiate hearts desperately trying to sync. Fingers trailing up against the tone muscle of his torso before you let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as his arms fasten around your waist. You’ve waited, wanted this for so long that time no longer a factor in this kiss you’re sharing, deepening so much further as he tilts his head to fully take you in. Pulling away slightly, you nibble on his lower lips lightly before letting the softness of your tongue to sooth the gentle pain. You both kiss for as long as your lungs would allow before parting way, heavy pants, resting in each other arms. “Happy birthday,” You whisper into the small kiss you’ve just placed, unwilling to be apart for so long. “I love you.” “I love you. You’re the best present I could ever hope for.” This was in no way the perfect reunion and quite frankly, there’s still so much more that need to be said, feelings long stored away that need to be dealt with. You’ve spent the first part of your relationship trying to be perfect, to be the couple goal, and to be envy by all your friends. But you know now, no couple is perfect, no love can be without its trials and tribulation. In the end, all you could hope for is to have done the love you have for each other the justice it deserves. You both know in your hearts that the safety and happiness of the other person are what worth the most and that’s all that matter. You have him, and he has you. Life have had its way for far too long and it was time you both, hand in hand, take it by the neck and make it your own. Surely there will be days when life once more gets rough but this time, this time you know with all the certainty in the world that you and he will survive anything. This time, no matter what life throws your way, you’re beyond prepared for all its trickery… Because this time, you have under your belt the experience of a life without each other to remind you both of how fragile this love is. The whisper of a promise to never again leave each other side mingles in the soft giggle of excitement and anticipation. So, as you both let yourselves get lost in the second kiss of your second chance, you hope that the same moon who had for so long watched over your relationship will be there to witness the beginning of your new life with him. You wonder if it is too, proud of the progress you both have made. 

[pokemon-legends-and-legacies]

Fankid Musings - Cypress

Ah Cy. The eldest Benga/Iris fankid. He’s been an interesting one over the years in terms of development. Initially he was a version of the fankid who is currently Laurel (though without a twin to keep him grounded). Then I became inspired by @pkmn-thenextgeneration‘s character Harper who was raised by wild dragons and implemented my own take on the idea with him. Over time, I built up his story, thinking about how he came to be abandoned or left behind in the first place that he had to be raised by pokémon, and from these musings I came up with the idea of his parents being a forbidden human/supernatural being couple who eloped and lived a happy life travelling the world with their baby son, until tragedy struck. This idea stuck with me though. I wanted to develop these characters more and I had just struck them completely from the story with my current state of things. Cypress had no relationship or memories with them, so even trying to bring one or both back later on would prove rather challenging, simply because Cy had no desire to meet them and never longed to know them, simply happy with the families he already had.

So we come to the present. I have now grown attached enough to two OCs I made to be dead parents that I changed Cy’s entire backstory to give them more room to shine. (I also wanted to try and explore a different background for him, rather than simply have a very similar scenario to something another great blog has already come up with.) Thus, the current (very cliche but I know what I like) story is that Cypress is the result of a love affair between Khuzaimah, a young man dissatisfied with his life and wanting more, and Nasir, an old, arcane being who’s lived so long he’s forgotten most of his past, even his own name. They met by chance, but their romance blossomed quickly, Khuzaimah eventually convincing his lover to elope with him. They go to Almia first, which is where they soon have their only child, Cypress, named after the trees under which they first confessed their love (and used as a meeting spot many times afterwards). Khuzaimah had cast off his clan name after eloping, so the couple picked out a new surname, Vallas, since they loved to dance together. After Cypress’s birth and once he was old enough to travel, the couple decided to move on, wanting to see the world. Cypress grew up never staying put in one place for long, so he developed an open and playful personality, knowing that he had to make friends fast since he’d be moving on soon enough. Despite this, he loved his little family and their lifestyle, always being able to see new places and meet new people.

When they are staying in Opelucid, Unova however, around when Cypress is 10-11 years old, things go terribly wrong. One day, when Cypress comes home from playing, his parents are gone. They had said that they would be back from shopping when he came home, but they still hadn’t returned even after Cy waited hours for them. Scared and unsure of what to do, Cypress recalls his parents telling him to go to the local pokémon center if anything ever happened, as it made for an easy meeting point. When he arrives and tells the Nurse Joy there his story, she lets him stay the night there. In the morning, he’s escorted home by a Jenny, but their temporary house is still abandoned. At this point, a missing persons case is sent out, and the authorities now have to find a place for Cypress to stay until his parents can be found, the Center not being the best place for a child to stay for what could be days on end. Enter Benga. He had met Khuzaimah a few times in the past, the two being friendly, so he offered to take Cypress in for the time being. Iris is a bit stressed at the idea of having another child to look after when they’ve already got Acacia and baby twins on top of her work as Champion, but she would never turn out a child in need of shelter, who is missing his parents and needs love and comfort. So, Cypress stays with the Pendragon-Redwood family for days... then weeks.... then months... then finally a year has passed and there is still no trace of his parents. At this point, with Cy’s permission, Iris and Benga decide to take full custody of him as his foster parents and, as the years go by with no updates, they eventually adopt him when he’s around 15 years old. 

There’s a lot more to Cy’s story, how he investigates his parents’ disappearance as an adult and finds out just how much they were hiding from him... his involvement in the main plot... and much more, but this post is long enough as it is! I’m very excited about all the new developments this story has been going through behind the scenes and wanted to share a little bit. 

[sussensecret]

❉❅yoongi fic recs❅❉

smut:  ♡           fluff: ☼          angst:   ☆

a list of our favorite yoongi fan fics. enjoy !

masterlist of all masterlists 

Breakfast in Bed - joonbird ♡☼ ikea employee!yoongi Summary: “Min Yoongi, a grumpy ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Petrichor - donewithjeon  ☆ ☼

Destruction Of A Muse - baeseoul  ♡ ☆

Surrond Me - mint-tape ♡☼ Best friends to lovers au Summary: after a very unfair and unjust firing from his bartending job, yoongi just wants to soothe his sadness by spending some quality time with his best friend - who he is very much in love with.

Mixtape - jungblue ♡☼ College au Summary: Two mystery students from your college run the podcast dubbed ‘mixtape.’ It’s become a sort of phenomenon around campus, listened to by almost everyone. In their most recent episode they discussed various study methods… One of them being oh so tempting.

Aquiver - floralseokjin ♡ | 8 part series Summary: Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

Three-pointer - baebsaes ♡☼ Basketballer!Yoongi !!!!! College au

Mindless - zephyoongist ♡☼ (DOESNT WORK) Brothers best friend au Summary: Desperate to get out of the god forsaken dorm and get as far away as you can from your slob of a roommate you find yourself knocking on the smooth white door of apartment 104 that belongs to your brother’s best friend who just so happens to be your arch nemesis for as long as you can remember

Tsundere - chinnychimchim ♡ ☆ College au, Residentadvisor!Yoongi Summary:  According to the rumours, min yoongi is a bad apple- doesn’t take grades seriously, drinks as if he has two livers, a certified bad boy™. When you get paired up with him for a project, you’d never expect that someone like him would have a thing or two to teach you about life itself- and how it should be lived. 

Brighter than Fire - workofteaguk ♡☼ Camp Counselor AU  Summary: There’s quite possibly nothing you hate more than Min Yoongi and his stupid, stupid face—and the stupid, stupid way he makes you feel. 

Makeshift Chemistry - jungblue ♡ College au Summary: Fleeting lust was all you’d ever known, nothing serious or long lasting, just a temporary fix to satisfy your needs. That is until you meet Min Yoongi who is determined to put an end to your binge of makeshift relationships.

Settle Down - floralseokjin ♡☼☆ Roommate!Yoongi Summary:  An unfortunate event finds you living with the man you practically despise over the summer. However, maybe through a series of fortunate events, you find yourself falling for him…

Boy.Girl - floralseokjin ♡☆ Friends with Benefits au Summary: Boy. Girl. It’s as simple as that. Girl can’t get a good date—scrap that—girl can’t get a good lay, and boy is willing to help out with that… Friends with benefits seems the perfect solution, except for the fact, it’s not. It never is. Not when boy already has feelings for girl…

First Love - mygjhs ♡☼☆ College au Summary: You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

Buzz -  floralseokjin ♡ | 3 part series Summary: in which you’re unsure if you’ve ever received an orgasm and when you finally pluck up the courage to use the vibrator you bought that one day on a whim, Yoongi barges through the door…

The Touch of Silk - floralseokjin ♡ Vampire!Yoongi Summary: in a world where vampires coexist with the living, there are many humans looking for a cheap thrill…you’re ashamed to admit you’re curious too, putting to good use a dating app you find…but Min Yoongi is nothing like you imagined a vampire to be…

Wrong - hoseokiehopie ♡ ☆  | 10 part series College au, fuckboy!yoongi Summary: You should’ve stayed away. You should’ve fought harder. You should’ve done anything but fall for the player Min Yoongi. Especially since you were already taken.

This is Sigma - promixity ♡ College au, frat au Summary: when someone passes out on the lawn of Kappa sorority, they’ve got one of two options: take a curse of celibacy, or sleep with a Kappa. when your ex-boyfriend from the infamous Sigma house winds up facing the ultimatum, he’s got no choice but to seek you out. or, “the sex is supposed to come during the relationship, not after.”

The Singularity Theory - chinnychimchim ♡ ☼ | 2 part series on going College au Summary: in your last year of undergrad, you find out what a gloryhole is at the expense of your final year thesis. it’s a classic example of a psychology experiment that went way, way wrong. 

we will be adding more to this list, as time goes by !

[thelioncudgel]

A PJO/HoO - Danganronpa fusion

Because there’s very little I enjoy more than crossovers when it comes to fanfiction, here’s one of the many headcanons I spend way too much time thinking about when bored at the gym.

And hey, no one will ever see this so I don’t feel too self-conscious sharing it!

Komaeda is a child of Tyche, the most powerful one in recorded history—but his incredible abilities come with a price, in the form of his unpredictable (and devastating) endless cycle of miraculously good and catastrophically bad luck. He was born a danger to himself and all those around him, and so unsurprisingly was never welcome at Camp Half-Blood. After his parents died and he was turned away from Camp, he simply grew up wandering about alone all over the country, living off the considerable inheritance from his late parents and his own strokes of financial luck. This wasn’t particularly dangerous for him, as, unlike most demigod children, he didn’t even need to lift a finger to survive monster encounters, more often than not: his luck would take care of the beasts for him. However, while his luck always protected his body, his heart was left undefended: he soon came to see his inborn power as more of a curse than a blessing, as it always resulted in damage to himself during monster attacks being redirected towards innocent mortals. Komaeda leaves his resentment towards his godly mother carefully unspoken, but he has no love for Olympus; to him, the true God, the true absolute good, is the abstract concept of hope, as it’s hope that his life will one day get better that gets him through the day far more than the luck that protects him from monsters. (Thus, by extension, he’s Hestia’s most devoted follower, as she was entrusted with Pandora’s pithos near the end of the second Titanomachy. Hestia is very grateful to be worshipped again after so long, especially by such a kind, albeit…unusual demigod. But she worries deeply for this incredibly messed up child who adores her so unconditionally, almost seeing him as a son.) Due to his sickly body and the fact that he was banned from Camp and thus couldn’t receive combat training, he was unable to ever learn to defend himself in such a way that his luck wouldn’t need to protect him by causing harm to others in his place. This destroyed his self-esteem at an early age, and resulted in Komaeda forcing himself to develop a mentality of complete disdain towards mortals, so that their deaths in monster attacks aimed at him would no longer tear at his conscience. He greatly admires all demigods who possess powers he sees as more useful and remarkable than his, and will go out of his way to help them in their quests if he happens to come across them in his travels. As a child of Tyche, he’s able to control his luck to an extent, at least long enough to ensure that his temporary companions will only experience excellent luck while by his side; he reaps all the damage from his resulting bad luck afterwards, once they’ve left safely. Unsurprisingly, rumours of a “pretty but almost creepily helpful Tyche kid with incredible power, who’ll lend a hand on quests for free” spread around both Camps quickly.

Hinata is a clear-sighted mortal. Born and raised in New York, a city full of demigod and monster traffic due to its proximity to both Mount Olympus and Camp Half-Blood, he grew up watching heroes flit in and out of his life battling monsters, living fantastical, exciting lives so unlike the mundane humdrum of school, homework and more school that was his own—and came to envy them. He runs into Nanami by chance one day, and after befriending her, eventually finds himself dragged along on one of her quests, at the end of which he’s brought back to Camp and made the newest host to the Oracle of Delphi. He then soon comes to understand the true meaning of the adage “be careful what you wish for”, bitterly regretting his inability to be satisfied with not being special. The Oracle, having settled into his mind as a separate entity that calls itself Izuru, is cold and unfeeling and so very, painfully bored of a world that holds no secrets to one with the power of foresight. His apathy constantly bleeds through into Hinata’s heart, leaving him struggling with depression; Hinata is also tormented with traumatically bloody dreams every night, and feelings of guilt whenever he delivers prophecies that foretell a young hero’s death, knowing that his words won’t be enough to change their sealed fates. So it’s unsurprising, of course, that both Hinata and Izuru would be thrilled to meet Komaeda and become fascinated with this singularity who will never be killed by anything but old age or his own hand, who is so chaotically beautiful in his blessed, wild unpredictability.

Souda is a son of Hephaestus, obviously. He insists despite all evidence to the contrary that Sonia is obviously a child of Aphrodite and thus is meant to be with him. Despite acting more like a child of Hecate or Hades, Tanaka has an inborn connection with animals thanks to his father, Pan. He can tame any beast, no matter how wild, though he’s soft-hearted enough that he hates making them fight for him. Nanami is a daughter of Athena, gifted like no other at the war table. Despite her undeniable talent, some of her siblings are annoyed by her spacey personality and her tendency to treat all strategy meetings as preludes to games. She’s also uncommonly sweet and friendly for a child of the somewhat stuck-up cabin. Sonia is a spiritually begotten daughter of Hera (not conceived the usual horizontal tango-induced way because hey, goddess of marriage). She inherited all of her godly parent’s commanding presence and motherly kindness, and none of her overbearing possessiveness and bitterness. Kuzuryuu is a son of Zeus, but dislikes the pressure this puts on his shoulders to always take on leadership roles. He also hates being teased about being “pretty tiny, for a child of the King of the gods”. Unfortunately for those naysayers, he certainly inherited his father’s temper, if not his imposing size. Pekoyama is the quietest, coolest daughter of Ares you will ever meet, but make no mistake, she’s deadlier by far than all of her uncouth and bloodthirsty siblings. She’s also Kuzuryuu’s terrifying self-appointed bodyguard. Koizumi is a daughter of Clio, and loves immortalising little bits of history through her craft as a photographer. She has no inborn special ability for battle, but, being scarily protective of her loved ones, made up for it by training hard and is a master of knife fighting. Saionji is a daughter of Terpsichore, and thus a fantastic dancer. She wields tessen just as sharp as her tongue and adores Koizumi, firm in her belief that daughters of under-appreciated muses should stick together. Tsumiki is a daughter of Apollo with the strongest ability for healing seen in millennia, but can be surprisingly sadistic towards those she sees as enemies. She’s very self-conscious when chanting hymns, as her mousy voice isn’t much to write home about despite her parentage. Her half-sister Mioda, by contrast, has a voice like an angel and can make any instrument sing for her like a lover. Shame she’s a fan of screaming, growling death metal. Ah well, at least it does well in making attacking monsters’ eardrums and brains explode. They just “can’t handle how hard [she shreds]”. Owari is a daughter of Hercules, bronzed and beautiful, ditzy and fight-crazy. Instead of being satisfied with her inborn super-strength, she trained hard to surpass her limits since early childhood, and is all the more terrifying for it. Nidai is a son of Chiron, able to switch at will between human and centaur forms. It’s in his nature to push heroes to be the best they can be, and he’s always vocally thrilled to work alongside his exasperated but loving father in training demigods. His bulging muscles aren’t just for show, but he’s surprisingly pants at archery. Hanamura is a son of Demeter, and can work magic in the kitchen with just a handful of grain and a few veggies. He deeply respects life and is a bit of a wimp when it comes to blood, but is deadly with a meat cleaver. The Impostor is a child of Aphrodite who defies common standards of beauty by being noticeably overweight. They have the strongest talent for shapeshifting ever seen in a demigod, and is a surprisingly excellent leader. Yukizome, the ultimate homemaker, is a spiritually begotten daughter of Hestia (because hey, maiden goddess). Sakakura is a son of Hercules and Munakata, a son of Athena.

All the Dr1 cast are children of Roman gods. Naegi is a son of Fortuna (and thus Komaeda’s sort-of brother/cousin); Enoshima is a daughter of Venus who betrayed both her camp and the world by deciding to revive Kronos, who blessed(/cursed) her with the ability to see through time at an early age.

[andthismypicture-blog]

Relational Aesthetics

My relational aesthetics essay from last term

Nicolas Bourriard started writing about Relational Aesthetics in response to work being produced by artists in the 1990s (Bourriaud, Relational Aesthetics, 1998). He observed that works of artists such as Rikrit Tiravanijas’ “Untitled (free) 1992” in which you are invited to eat curry and converse with friends of new acquaintances in an art space (Moma, n.d.). It is these relationships and interactions that occur in relation to art that are the main focus of Relational Aesthetics or Relational Art. Also addressed in this essay are several critiques put forward by Claire Bishop in her article for October Magazine, Antagonism and Relational Aesthetics. She describes some of the work produced by Relational Artists in the 1990s as “work that is open-ended, interactive, and resistant to closure, often appearing to be “work in Progress” rather than a completed object” (Bishop, 2004, p. 52).She asserts that this approach is a misreading of poststructuralist theory and has many flaws, including that she believes that the sense of openness that occurs with viewer created art, is not as random as it may appear, but instead is only superficially so (Bishop, 2004, p. 67). Relational Art has been a part of my practice and is something I wish to use going forward.

The term, Relational Aesthetics, was first coined by Nicolas Bourriaud in 1996, to describe the tendencies displayed in the exhibition “traffic” at the CAPC muse d’Art Contemporain in Bordeaux. Bourriaud observed these tendencies in works by Rirkrit Tiravanija, Maurizio Cattelan, Philippe Parreno, Pierre Huyghe, Vanessa Beecrof among others.  It would later become the title of his first book of criticism (Bourriaud, 2001). Relational Aesthetics is a  system of identifying artworks by the social relationships and instances that they infer or prompt (Bourriaud, 1998). These relationships place importance on the viewer as a participant in the completion of the work, Bourriaud said “For me, art is a space of images, objects, and human beings. Relational aesthetics is a way of considering the productive existence of the viewer of art, the space of participation that art can offer”(2001). He also comments on the state of human relationships, stating the state of current relations are the space most strongly affected by the need to have a symbol or artefact represent non tangible ideas or things (Bourriaud, 1998). This leads to a very interesting question, that being, is it still possible to create strong connections with art to the view or even to the rest of the world, as Guy Debord address these relationships as part of the “Society of the Spectacle”(as cited in Bourriaud, 1998), in which he describes a space in which human interactions and relationships are not directly experienced but in stead are experienced through their own “blurred … spectacular representation.” (Bourriaud, 1998). The earlier mentioned artwork by Tiravanija, untitled(free)1992, was installed in 303 Gallery, New York in 1992. It is probably the most famous example, by the theories most famous practitioner.  “During the length of that exhibition, Tiravanija cooked Thai food for visitors in a kitchen set up within the gallery. The food is the art, but not in the fine cuisine sense: “it is not what you see that is important but what takes place between people,” Tiravanija says. The communal experience of cooking and eating the food becomes the object on display, under the direction of the artist, who acts as a sort of experience “curator,” or maybe “ringmaster” would be a better term” (Chayka, 2011). I believe this work clearly demonstrates, in my understanding, what is the main objective of Relational Art, that the viewer participates in and therefor becomes part of the art, and the art is non-reliant on being an object, but instead an experience.

This emphasis on experience over object, and the reinvention of established art practices and outcomes led to a “visual tendency among European art venues to reconceptualise the “white cube”” (Bishop, 2004, p. 51). This was evident at the opening of The Palais de Tokyo in 2002. Bishop observed that “instead of clean white walls, discreetly installed lighting, and wooden floors, the interior was left bare and unfinished” and that instead of a typical gallery space, it had become a “studio or experimental “laboratory”” (Bishop, 2004, p. 51). This laboratory paradigm can easily make the space become increasingly marketable as a “space of leisure and entertainment” (Bishop, 2004, p. 52). Even Tiravanija’s work is not exempt from this. Bishop recounts an excerpt from a review of untitled(free) 1992 by Jerry Saltz, in which he talks about different experiences he had while attending the exhibition. These consisted mostly of artistic talk, with people who are interested in the art world (Bishop, 2004, p. 67). It is these kinds of interactions that Bishop finds problematic. She states:

The informal chattiness clearly indicates what kind of problems face those who want to know more about such work: the review only tells us that Tiravanija’s intervention is considered good because it permits networking among a group of art dealers and likeminded art lovers, and because it evokes the atmosphere of a late-night bar. Everyone has a common interest in art, and the result is art-world gossip, exhibition reviews and flirtation. Such communication is fine to an extent, but it is not in and of itself emblematic of “democracy”” (Bishop, 2004, p. 67)

Bishop says that a functional democracy is a society in which debate and differing opinions and brought forward and presented. In this way, Relational Art, such as Tiravanija’s are indeed, un democratic.

There have been two examples in my practice of what I would consider, Relational art. The first was a project in which I set up a tattoo studio in my studio space, and gave the participants temporary tattoos. The Most successful part of this project was indeed the interaction that occurred between myself and the participants, as you must be in each other’s personal space, rendering the participant, very in a very vulnerable state, and even though there was an object-oriented outcome, the more memorable part was he interaction. The second was a workshop I ran in which I taught people how to weave baskets. This was also outcome driven but it was interesting to note the different levels of participation from the participants. The earlier discussed flaws, stated by Bishop were definitely apparent in both works.

In conclusion, Bourriaud’s Seminal work on defining Relational Aesthetics was widely accurate to what was happening in the art world at the time. In theory, the Ideas around audience participation and rethinking art and how it is displayed have been very influential on modern art. There are however, very valid critiques posed by Clair Bishop and others. The main critique being that there is a lack of varied viewpoints or opinions being posed, and that it is a lot more controlled in terms of outcomes than initially thought.

          References  

Bishop, C.  (2004). Antagonism and Relational Aesthetics. October Magazine, 51-79.

Bourriaud, N.  (1998). Relational Aesthetics. Paris: Les Presses du réel.

Bourriaud, N.  (2001, April). Public Relations : an interview with Nicolas Bourriaud. (B.  Simpson, Interviewer)

Chayka, K. (2011,  February 8). WTF is Relational Aesthetics. Retrieved from  Hyperallergic: https://hyperallergic.com/18426/wtf-is-relational-aesthetics/

Moma. (n.d.). Rirkrit  Tiravanija. Retrieved from moma: https://www.moma.org/collection/works/147206

[storiesofwildfire]

📖 📷 💋 🔪 💌 📫 📨 💬 💀 👪 👊💒 (From Fandral, feel free to mix and match verses)

{ @fandralxthexstabulous } || send me a symbol to see what my muse would say about yours – status; accepting

📖 for what my muse would write about yours in their diary. (from the POV of Loki and Fandral mending their friendship)

     I’m not entirely sure what to make of Fandral anymore. After he chose to openly support Thor, I didn’t think there was anything left between us, but… He was so quick to realize that he’d hurt me and immediately jumped on wanting to make amends for it. He’s been honest with me in ways I didn’t even think he was capable of, but I’m afraid, too. That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? He’s bending over backwards to make things right between us because he cares and yet I’m afraid of getting too attached again? 

     Can I be blamed for that, though? My feelings for Fandral became so intense so quickly that it startled me. Those feelings are still there, really, but should they be? Yes, Fandral’s doing his best to make amends and yes, he’s explained to me why he made the decisions that he made, but… I’m not really sure what to make of what he feels for me, I suppose. There’s enough uncertainty to make me wary because there was a point in time where I thought he might feel the same way about me that I felt about him. Now I’m not so sure. It’s very obvious that he cares about me. He wouldn’t have gone so far out of his way to make me happy again if he didn’t, but is that a result of valuing our friendship and nothing more?

     It’s relatively easy to convince myself that I’m the one with feelings above and beyond that of friendship. Fandral’s able to have literally anyone he wants. Why would he want to be with me? It makes perfect sense as to why how I’m feeling would be one-sided. And yet, every once in a while, I catch Fandral starring at me with a sort of longing in his eyes. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but it’s happened more than once, usually when we’re alone and he doesn’t think that I’m paying any attention to what he’s doing. Hel, a time or two, I even caught him watching me in the bath house after hours of training… 

     Gods, I sound like a lovesick teenager right now. This is actually pathetic… I shouldn’t be sitting in my bed, writing about my feelings for some boy that’s far too pretty to ever climb into my bed. Sometimes it still amazes me that I still harbor such strong feelings for him after everything that happened, but his efforts to make things up to me have only proven to make me want him that much more. I think even Sigyn might approve of him. I’ve been so unwilling to explore romance since she died, but when I’m around Fandral, it almost feels like she’s offering me her blessings, in a way.

     Sooner or later, I guess I’ll have to tell him how I feel. If I ever work up the courage to do so, that is.

📷 for what my muse would say to the paparazzi about yours. (from the POV of Loki being questioned by other court members about his choice in lover once he and Fandral have finally become public, because… does Asgard even have real paparazzi?)

     “Yes, I think Fandral is a perfectly fine suitor. If I one day have to retake the throne hardly matters in my affairs with the person I’ve chosen to spend my life with, does it? So long as we are able to have children–and I can assure you that we can. I’m sure none of you have forgotten that I’m able to carry children. You usually never let me forget about all of the times you believe I’ve stumbled or faltered, after all. Regardless, my point remains the same.

     “With Thor refusing to take the throne and no other suitable heirs, it’s likely that I will probably have to become king once again when Odin decides it’s his time to step down.” Fortunately, Loki was able to hide the shiver that ran down his spine at the prospect of becoming king again. “I realize that puts a heavy load of responsibility upon my shoulders. I was acting king for months after the Dark Elves invasion, after all, but I still fail to see what any of that has to do with Fandral. He’s a strong, loyal warrior who would die for Asgard should he be asked to lay down his life. He’s a member of a respected noble house. He’s extremely intelligent, adaptable, and given a position of power, he’ll do right by his realm and by me. We’ve long since had this discussion. Fandral understands what it means to be with me and how that will impact his life and responsibilities.

     “What I fail to understand is what any of this has to do with the rest of you? Does my decision on who to love offend you so greatly that you feel the need to question me about it? I’m not going to marry for political reasons. Odin didn’t. Thor wouldn’t. I shouldn’t be expected to, either. If your worry stems from how it’ll be viewed by the realm, then it’s about time we stop acting like Midgardians and start showing acceptance, isn’t it?” That last comment seemed to shut everyone up. No Aesir liked to be compared to a human. It was an insult above most things because Asgard thought so highly of itself.

💋 for what my muse would say to the person trying to woo your muse. (from the POV of a jealous Loki who is still keeping his relationship with Fandral a secret)

     “You know… It’s not exactly attractive or desirable to drool over someone you’re lusting after,” Loki murmured as he leaned against the bar next to the redhead who spent most of the night attempting to lure Fandral over to her. In truth, the woman was absolutely beautiful. Her hair was so vibrant, it almost didn’t look real, and she was taller than most women, with curves in places that every man would want them to be. Perhaps that’s why he found so much displeasure in her attempts to woo Fandral because she was absolutely stunning?

     “You look desperate. Don’t throw away your self-respect just for the chance to be with someone for a night or two. No man is really worth that.” And while his words might have sounded a bit harsh, he actually did mean them in a way that didn’t entirely stem from jealousy. He’d been around Fandral long enough to know that plenty of women–and some men–forgot what dignity was when they were around him. Even Loki had fallen victim to that once or twice. “You ought to invest your efforts in someone who will take real, lasting interest in you.”

🔪 for the eulogy my muse would give for yours. (from the POV of Loki watching Fandral die during Thanos’ invasion of Asgard, right before Loki ignited Ragnarök)

     Fandral was one of the few warriors left on Asgard who hadn’t been killed or crippled by Thanos’ invasion. The realm crumbled around them as the Titan made one final push to crush those who stood in his way while obtaining the rest of the Infinity Stones. Sif had fallen. Volstagg and Hogun were gone. Fródi, Inka, Inge, and Alvida were dead. Even Thor had perished in the face of the Mad Titan, but Loki endured and Fandral was always right at his side.

     Until he wasn’t.

     Asmund and Sigurd were a couple of the only friends Loki had left aside from Fandral and when they heard Loki’s screams of anguish, they both came running. A void of darkness opened behind where Loki hit his knees in a pool of his lover’s blood. The dark-haired trickster carefully pulled Fandral into his arms, pleading with him not to leave, but Fandral was already gone. Life left him long before Loki could ever reach him and there was nothing he could do to bring him back.

     “Loki…” Asmund murmured as he stepped free from Sigurd’s shadows. The shadowmancer’s voids seemed to be one of the only safe places that they could go where Thanos could not follow them, but even they were only temporary solutions. The healer placed a hand on Loki’s shoulder as silent tears streaked through the blood and grime on Loki’s cheeks. Even Asmund had a difficult time bearing the sight of the dead warrior in Loki’s arms. “We need to go. Thanos will kill us to if we don’t.”

     “Thanos is going to kill everyone,” Loki murmured, though he didn’t fight his friend. Instead of kneeling in Fandral’s blood, Loki picked himself up and carried Fandral’s lifeless corpse with him to Sigurd’s void. Once Asmund and Loki were inside the darkness, Sigurd shut the open end and sealed them inside of it. Loki sat down and held Fandral against his chest, silent for a long time. So many people were dying so rapidly that there was no time for funerals. Fandral’s death was no different, but his death finally put things into perspective for him.

     “Fandral’s taught me a lot of things over the years,” Loki began. Sigurd and Asmund stood before him, watching as he grieved for his fallen lover. “He taught me that things are not always what they appear to be. He taught me that being a good person didn’t have to be difficult. He taught me the importance of loyalty and passion and he showed me how to love again. He even showed me how to love myself, which was something I never thought I’d ever be able to have. He was the one person I thought would always be by my side. When everyone else was gone, I thought he’d be there, but even he couldn’t endure this. With all of his strength and all of his wit and all of his charm… The world has been dimming since this war broke out, but now it feels truly cold.” He paused for a moment. Miraculously, the tears that fell from his eyes didn’t choke him up. His words were calm and eerily concise for someone who felt like he’d lost everything in the matter of a few moments. 

     “I feel cold.” That was the first time he’d ever uttered those words and truly knew what it felt like to experience the sensation of chill seeping into his bones. 

     “If losing Fandral has shown me anything, it’s that we aren’t going to win this war. He was the strongest person we had left and now he’s gone… But hope didn’t die with him. There is one thing left that we can do, that I can do to make all of this stop. I don’t know what will happen, but I have to try. I can’t let his sacrifice be for nothing. His death has to mean something. It has to count and I’ll make sure that it does.”

💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours. (from the POV of Loki contacting Fandral sometimes after Otherworldly Monsters)

Dearest Fandral,

     It hasn’t been more than a couple of weeks since I left Asgard. At the time of my departure, you were rather busy. I didn’t think it would be fair of me to ask you to come alone when your attention was already so divided amongst your responsibilities. You do take your role much more seriously than I can ever comprehend, but…

     I miss you a great deal. 

     Normally, when I leave Asgard, I don’t think about it at all. Occasionally, I might linger on what my friends are doing or how much I miss them if I’ve been gone for a particularly long period of time, but otherwise, Asgard doesn’t intrude my thought often. But since my last trip to Midgard and having you come in search of me, I feel like something’s missing. Normally, I work better alone and I get so much more accomplished than if I have someone with me, but that wasn’t the case with you. While you were with me, I had a sense that we worked so well together, it would be better if you accompanied me every time I left Asgard.

     Since I left, I’ve been kicking myself in the arse for not asking you to come along. I’m finding that I miss you a great deal more than I could have anticipated and I’d really like you to come and join me if you can spare the time.

                                                                                                             -Loki

📫 for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party. (from the POV of a message delivered to Snoke sometime after Loki begins training Fandral and Loki’s decided he’d like to keep Fandral safe from his superiors)

     I wish to keep this brief, as I do not trust that this message will be left untampered before it reaches you, Master. I’m sending this to update you on the status of the Force-sensitive boy I made contact with months and months ago. I know your hope for him is high, but I’ve decided that he is no longer worth pursuing. His connection to the Force is weak and he can barely comprehend even the most basic teachings. I’ve made very little improvement with him since the day I first made contact with him and I’m not willing to waste any more of my time with him. I will dispose of him in the most discreet manner and move on. I’m not ready to return yet. I believe there is still potential elsewhere, I just need to locate it. Sadly, my first attempt has failed and I am unwilling to return until I can bring success along with me.

📨 for a text my muse would send to yours. (from the POV of Loki and Fandral meeting Loki’s kids for the first time in Resetting the Odds)

[ text; Fan ]; I’m really nervous about this. I know Eydis thinks it’s a great idea for me to meet my children. I know she thinks it’ll help bring back some memories, but… [ text; Fan ]; I don’t even know why I’m scared? These are my kids, right? I’m their… mother, right? I love them. I know I do. I can feel it even if I can’t really remember them, but I’m still terrified.[ text; Fan ]; Please come home soon. I really don’t want to do this alone. 

💬 for a text my muse would send about yours to a third party. (from the POV of Loki contacting Thor while he and Fandral are on Midgard searching for the Mind Gem)

[ text; Thor ]; All of Asgard–your father included–is angry with you for leaving when they needed you most. My concerns were about letting my idiot brother who ran off know that I was alive. My concerns were with Asgard.[ text; Thor ]; And truth be told, Fandral really doesn’t want to see you. As angry as most of the people of Asgard are, Fandral might be even more upset with you.[ text; Thor ]; Rightfully so, considering you convinced him to commit treason for you and then left him to clean up the aftermath.[ text; Thor ]; What if he’d been imprisoned for what he did? Or executed? Did you even stop to think about how your decisions impacted his life? Or any of your friends, for that matter?[ text; Thor ]; We’re just here for the Mind Gem. If you can’t help us get it, there’s no reason to stay in contact with you.

💀 for what my muse would say upon hearing about your muse’s death. (from the POV of an AU we’ve never roleplayed or even talked about where Fandral goes undercover and all of his friends are left to believe he’s dead)

     He shouldn’t have been upset, really. So many years passed since Loki and Fandral were anything close to friends. After Fandral decided that he would throw his support behind Thor and his future rule, Loki couldn’t bring himself to be happy around Fandral. He tried. Truly, he did try to keep hold of the friendship that they built together, but being around the warrior only made his heart ache with bitterness and that same sense of not being good enough that he felt with just about everyone. 

     And yet, being told that Fandral had been struck down in battle left him feeling… numb. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Thor after his brother relayed the news to him.

     “Look,” Thor murmured. “I know you and Fandral weren’t the best of friends, but you two seemed to get along rather well. Fandral liked you a great deal, you know. He used to stick up for you all the time. He never really liked when any of us picked on you or assumed you were up to no good. The least you could do is say something.” Thor couldn’t even bring himself to sound demanding. His heart ached for his lost friend.

     “I don’t expect you to understand what went on between Fandral and me, Thor,” Loki finally said as his eyes fell shut. “But don’t mistake my silence for indifference. I care more than I can express with words. I just don’t know what to say…”

     “That’s a first,” Thor said, doing his best to offer his brother jesting smile, but it faltered as Loki finally looked up at him. Even Thor, a man who usually paid very little attention to the feelings of others, could see the agony swimming in Loki’s eyes. “You weren’t kidding when you said you cared more than you could say, were you?”

     “No, Thor, I–” He brought his hands up to his face to wipe his eyes before the tears that stung his eyes had a chance to fall. “–I loved him.”

     Thor didn’t need Loki to elaborate on what he meant. Whether or not Fandral ever had a relationship with his little brother, he didn’t know, but Loki developed deep feelings for him somewhere along the way and hearing that he was dead must have been devastating… The elder prince couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he opted for sitting down beside his brother and pulling his lean frame into his arms, hugging him tightly.

👪 for what my muse would say to your muse’s child about them. (from the POV of sometime in the future when Fan and Loki finally have those twin girls we were talking about)

     Loki took the twins into their room once they were in their pajamas and ready for bed. Because of their young age, Loki and Fandral decided it was best to keep them together. One day, they would want their own rooms and space from one another, but for now, they were attached at the hip. In a way, the beautiful little girls reminded him a lot of how the triplets were with one another when they were young. The only significant difference was that Asgard took such a warm liking to the twins that had honestly shocked Loki after their birth.

     “Is Papa going to come read us a bedtime story?” Marian–the twin to be born first (something she loved to hold over her sister’s head)–asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “He always acts out the different parts. It’s funny.”

     “No, darling,” Loki murmured as he picked her up and set her on her bed. “Papa’s not here, remember? He’ll be gone for a few more weeks.” This produced a pout from both of his girls.

     “Why does he always go away?” the younger girl, Frija, asked. Loki decided to name the second child after his mother, though he’d given her a variant of his mother’s name rather than literally name her ‘Frigga’. “He always seems so happy when he’s here with us, so why does he leave?” She climbed up onto the edge of the bed next to her sister despite the fact that her bed was on the other side of the room.

     “Your father is very happy,” Loki reassured them both. “But as all adults do, he has responsibilities that he needs to attend to for work.” Loki’s responsibilities also pulled him away from his girls from time to time but he’d been extremely insistent that he never be kept away from them for more than a few days at a time. As much as he loved off-realm work, his daughters were far more important. Perhaps once they were older, he’d feel more comfortable leaving them, but for now… Well, he’d lost children already and perhaps he was a bit too overprotective. “Sometimes that means that he has to leave us for a few weeks at a time. Trust me, darlings, I don’t like it any more than you two.”

     “Are you ever going to tell us what he does when he’s away? Aside from the obvious sword work?” Marian asked.

     “One day, when you’re older, your father and I will tell you all about the things we’ve accomplished separately and together. For now, settle for knowing that he’s doing what he’s doing to protect Asgard and, more importantly, to keep his beautiful little girls safe. He loves you two more than anything else in all the Nine Realms. You know that, don’t you?”

     “That’s not true, Mum,” Frija murmured with a yawn large enough to put even Thor to shame. “He loves you more than everything,” she pointed out with a matter-of-fact tone that left little room to argue. “That’s why you guys are so gross whenever Papa does come home from his long trips.”

     Marian wrinkled her nose at the thought. Their parents were rather icky, weren’t they? “She’s right about that.”

     Chuckling softly, Loki placed a kiss on each of their foreheads. “Do you two want a story or not? Continue to insult me and I won’t give you one.”

     “Will you tell us a story about one of your adventures with Papa, then?”

     “You really do miss him, don’t you?” Both girls gave Loki a very signature expression that Loki usually gave most people when he thought they were being dumb. He laughed and stroked their hair. “I miss him too. All right then.” He climbed into bed with them so each girl could snuggle up beside him. “Let me tell you about the time I took your father to Midgard to search for a few Infinity Stones, then. Pretty sure you haven’t heard that one yet.” 

👊 for what my muse would say upon hearing yours has been arrested. (from the POV of Loki ordering anyone who left Asgard in hopes of bringing Thor home to be arrested)

     “Who all attempted to leave?” Loki asked as a guard came into the throne room to inform him that several arrests had been made at the edge of the Bifrost. 

     “Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, your highness,” the guard replied. “Each is outside, awaiting your judgment. If you would prefer me to escort them all to the dungeons instead…”

     Loki sighed and rubbed his temple. “No, I will deal with them individually,” Loki said. “Send Fandral in first.” The guard bowed and excused himself so he could return to the prisoners. Each had been chained appropriately so they would not so easily be able to make an escape, even with their expert skills in combat. The guard too Fandral by the upper arm first and led the warrior into the throne room. The doors closed behind him, ensuring that Sif, Hogun, and Volstagg would be unable to hear what went on inside.

     Loki stood from the throne, leaving the spear that his father usually wielded to rest against the uncomfortable chair. He approached them and looked directly at the guard. “Leave us.”

     “With all due respect, your highness, this man is a criminal. I don’t think it’s wise for you to be alone with him without any sort of protection.” Loki raised a brow at the guard and after a moment of discomfort, he bowed his head and excused himself. Only then did Loki actually look Fandral in the eyes. Disappointment shone brightly in those emerald pits. 

     “After all this time, I truly did hold onto the hope that you were better than this, Fandral,” Loki said. “I’d like to say that I’ve never been so disappointed in you in all my life, but that’s not entirely true. I can think of one instance where I was more disappointed. I gave you and your friends a direct order as your King and you still went behind my back to liberate a man who was banished by the All-father. Do you think I enjoyed seeing Thor cast out any more than you did? No. I didn’t. Thor is my brother, but he was cast out for a reason. A reason that I truly hoped you, of all people, would understand. Or did you so easily forget that it was his temper that almost got you killed back on Jotunheim?” He fell silent for a moment as he clenched his jaw. “Why couldn’t you just listen to me? Why did you have to commit treason, Fandral? Do you respect me so very little that it’s truly come to this? To me having to send you and your friends to the dungeons before you finally get it?”

💒 for the toast my muse would give at your muse’s wedding. (from the POV of Loki and Fandral finally getting their arses in gear and getting married)

     “I know it’s usually friends and family who give the toasts and speeches at events like this,” Loki said as he stood up from his chair and placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder. The wedding happened less than an hour ago and it was still somewhat surreal. All those years of pretending they weren’t together and all of the days spent sneaking around finally gave way to a real and solid future for them and it was just… a lot to take in.

     “But I have something I wanted to say, not just to you, but to everyone.” He squeezed Fandral’s shoulder for a moment. “If it weren’t for you, I don’t know that I would have kept myself together during the time I acted as king after the Dark Elves invaded Asgard. No one knew how close we became back then, but you were an entire support system for me and, therefore, a support system for Asgard. You still play those roles very well, Fandral, and I think it’s important for everyone to know that. I don’t know exactly what the future holds, but so long as we’re together, we’ll do what we can for one another and for Asgard. You made me believe in second chances and I think you’ve helped most of Asgard believe in them too.”

     People cheered at that last comment. Fandral had a much larger impact on Asgard than even the warrior could probably comprehend.

     “So while people should be toasting us, I’d just like to take a moment to propose a toast to you, my love.” He handed Fandral a goblet of wine and then held his up. “There isn’t a single person I could think of that would be more deserving of it.” The guests all put their glasses up in the air, cheering for Fandral and shouting encouragements as well as congratulations.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Aftermath

Genre: Fan Fiction Pairing: Tom Hardy/OFC Warnings: Language, Slight Sexual Content Rating: PG13 Length: Short Story/Imagine Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: A follow up to  Charity Case

You knock on the door, taking a step back as you wait for it to open. On the other side you hear a shuffling before the numbered door swings open to reveal the man occupying the temporary space. His beard is gone, his hair is shorter, and his expression a little more worn than you remember, but his eyes. Oh his eyes are still the same blue that melts you the second you see him.

“I didn’t think you would show up, sweetheart.” He scratches the cowlick in the back of his hair.

“Yes, well, life is just full of surprises, Tom.” You shrug and walked into the room.

“You weren’t at the event.” He states the obvious and looks at you with curious eyes.

“No.” You shake your head and drape your jacket on the back of a chair.

“And why not?” He prompts you, standing behind you.

You fight a groan. He knows damn well why!

“I got let go.” You reply narrowing your eyes and turning to face him.

“Shame.” He mutters with a slight shake of his head. “I only said I’d do this, because I thought maybe you’d be there too.”

“You see, Tom.” Your voice is sharp. “When they find out that an employee is sneaking around, entertaining charity guest after hours, companies tend to get a little upset.”

“I swear, I don’t know how they ever found out.” Tom’s eyes soften. “I’m terribly sorry that they fired you, love. Had I thought they’d do that then…”

“Then what?” You challenge him. “Don’t be sorry, I’m not. Maybe it was time I moved on? Found something new to do. A new lease on a boring life.”

“I see you didn’t want things to be new on all ends.” Tom’s lips curl into a smile.

“No.” You answer with a smirk. “Some things are worth staying the same.”

When Tom had phoned you and explained that he was in town for another event, one night and one night only, you couldn’t resist. He’d be on the first flight out come morning. Leaving the name of his usual hotel and the room number, what you did with that information was entirely up to you.

Since moving to your new job, you hadn’t had a night off in months. Tom being in town had worked perfectly, as if some sort of fate he landed on your evening off.

You’d come to love these little rendezvous. Tom would call, leave the minor but important details, then it was your move. You always, always accepted!

Something about them were thrilling and exciting. A man blowing into town with the wind, spending a night together, and then come morning you both went back to life as you knew it. There were no rules to this little game, aside from the unspoken rule where the both of you were in agreement that these meetings meant nothing.

Nothing outside of casual sex. It’s why neither of you bothered to ever invite the other into their home. This was to be kept in a mutual place, away from familiarity. No feelings meant nobody gets hurt.

“Don’t think I didn’t miss you, tonight.” Tom speaks, undoing the tie around his neck. “The lady they’ve replaced you with is nice, but she is a bit stiff.”

“Can’t smile, if you paid her.” You frown and take over the duty of undoing the buttons on his crisp white shirt.

“Real shame, she might look nicer.” Tom teases, his arms stretch out when you slide the shirt off of his body.

If it’s possible, you decide he looks better than the last time you saw him. You like this - cleaner - yes cleaner is the word, version. Taking a slight step back, you hold his shirt in your hands and admire the man before you. His torso exposed, his gorgeous arms, chest, and tattoos on display.  You’re not sure what you did to deserve a play thing like this, but you silently thank whatever higher being has sent you such a package.

Twisting his shirt in your hands, you stand in a daze taking in the sight. You bit your bottom lip and take in a breath, you can’t help but stare as Tom moves across the room. Lost in your own little bubble, you fail to notice he has turned off the over head light, until he brushes passed you to turn on a lamp in the corner of the desk.

On his way back by, his hand reaches out and grazes your arm. “You look lovely.” he comments, his eye sweeping down your body.

You blush and try to deflect the comment. “I’m not even made up. I look like shit.”

You had left in such a haste, upon getting Tom’s call. You had pulled out the first dress you’d found in the closet and had hurried to get into a decent looking pair of panties and heels. In the rush make up and hair had been left without much thought.

“No you don’t. Although I suppose that is a matter of opinion, isn’t it? I think you look fine.” Tom shrugs taking his shirt from you and tossing it onto the suitcase a few feet behind you. “I fancy this look.”

“You may be the only one.” You mutter.

“How many lovers have seen you just as you are? No make up, with your hair all messed?” He challenges you. Before you can begin to answer he keeps going. “Smoke and mirrors is what it is.”

“Says the man who makes a living being somebody else.” You scoff at him.

“I do that, yes.” he nods. “But, I don’t do it to hide who I am. Women wear this stuff, think a certain way, act a certain way because they’re told it is what gets them love. You don’t need all of that.”

“Am I here for sex, or to get a lecture?” You raise your brow at him.

To say you’re annoyed wouldn’t be that far of a stretch.

“No, no.” Tom purses his lips and shakes his head. “I’m only trying to tell you that you’re being too critical. You are a stunning lady, with or without all that. I happen to think more so without it.”

You frown, not enjoying the talking.

Not seeming to care whether you like his opinion or not, Tom carries on with the task at hand. Bunching your dress up in his hands, he slowly guides the skirt up your legs and around your bottom. He pushes the light material further up your body and you raise your arms. Slowly and carefully guiding the dress over your head, Tom finishes removing the garment and it falls to the floor in a flowing blue heap.

In the soft glow of the room, you stand before him in nothing more than a thin scrap of lace posing as panties and a semi-matching bra. Taking a step back, his eyes look almost black in the dim light, as he takes in every inch of your exposed body. Feeling his gaze lingering sends goosebumps across your skin in full force.

“Hmm.” Tom hums in appreciation.

“Hmm? All you have after that big speech is hmm?” You fold your arms across you chest and scowl.

“Stunning. Lovely. Breathtaking.” He adds, his hand rubbing down the sides of your arms, gently tugging them away from your chest. Your arms fall by your sides and you feel a shiver.

“Sounds nicer.” You muse, a smirk playing on your lips. Reaching out, you tuck your thumbs into his belt and draw him in closer.

Grunting in reply, Tom allows you to effortlessly guide him forward. His lips feel different when they meet your shoulder, somehow more pleasant, on your skin without his beard scratching along behind them. Licking your lips, you grab at his pants in a rush to get them on the floor and you on your back. Large hands grasping your arms make it a little difficult, but you manage, shoving his pants and boxers down around his hips.

If they meet the floor, you don’t care, this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fucked him with his pants half way around his perfectly taught ass. Gripping it for good measure, you giggle when Tom lurches forward, your nails biting the skin of his backside.

“Easy, love.” He cautions resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve all night to get frisky.”

“Tom.” You practically whine at him.

“Eager thing, aren’t you.” He teases. You shiver at the feeling of his fingers sliding along your back, unclasping your bra and setting your chest free. Mumbling your reply, you pull back, allowing your bra to drift down your arms and onto the floor at his feet.

“Less talk, more sex. We can chat later, if you really need to.” Now you’re getting huffy.

“Don’t rush a good thing.” Tom pouts as he moves away from you.

Huffing in frustration, you roll your eyes at him. Here he is, a gorgeous, naked man all yours for the taking – in a manner of words, and he just walked away from you? How cruel and unusual was that?

Tom had invited you here, for sex, hadn’t he?

Your eyes can’t avert the sight of him striding across the room in all of his glory, his muscles moving perfectly in sync under his inked skin. You are certain your mouth is watering simply watching him.

“Tom, if we’re not going to…” You pause, not wanting to risk sounding like a terrible human. “Why am I here?”

“Have you had evening tea?”

He was asking you about dinner? Resisting the urge to scoff, you nod and reply. “Yes, hours ago.”

A still very naked Tom seems to not care, or ignores your answer, picking up the black menu that was placed on the end table by the bed. Positioning himself in bed, the sheets cascading over his waist and thighs, he thumbs through the book.

“Tom.” You take a step toward the bed, perching on the foot. “Are things okay?”

“Hmm?” Tom peeks over the top of the menu. “Oh yes, love. Of course.”

“So, I am to assume you called and invited me over to get naked and eat dinner?” Shifting uneasily on the bed, you frown, your brow crinkling and yours eyes narrowing.

Things has taken off so well, the kisses, the touching, and then…What had gone wrong?

“Do you want me to leave, or?”

“No, no.” Tom shakes his head a little, the menu pushed aside laying open next to him. Sitting for a moment, he gazes at his hands. “This isn’t something to be proud of now, is it? I mean this, meeting in secret and doing what we do, rushing off the second it’s over and that bit.”

“E-Excuse me?”

To say his words were a shock would be an understatement. This has been going on almost a year, maybe a little more, and now Tom decides to get moral on you?

Whatever force is stopping you from putting on your clothes and leaving must be something else. Stunned, you sit on the edge of the bed, quiet and calculating. If this visit hadn’t been about getting your rocks off with the most stunning man you’d ever met, would you have still come?

Why are you here? Sitting awkwardly, staring at Tom, who seems to have taken a new interest in the menu.

“What are we doing here? You and me? Hmm? We skulk around hotels, getting off on the whole thing, we lose jobs, and we’re no happier than we were before it all began.” Tom’s reply comes tumbling out at you.

Getting defensive is easy, you can feel your proverbial hackles rise at his words, wanting to point out that he is the one who called you. He was the one who initiated this.

“We’re two, consenting, mature adults who happen to be filling needs.” You use the best mature answer that you can muster. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

“‘f course not, love.” Tom frowns. “Do you ever wish you had more? That these little…meetings…happened more than they do? Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone all the time, not just when they flew in for work? Someone who could fill those needs permanently?”

“What are you saying?” Your breath is caught in your chest, as if you are holding it. Reminding yourself to take a forced breath, you watch his eyes crinkle as they do when he is in thought, or smiling. Oh how you wish he’d smile right about now.

“I got you fired, for fucks sake, love. You were let go of a job, because of me. I can’t have that, now. We’re acting like a couple of teenagers and I’m not sure I like it. Don’t get me wrong, the sex isn’t bad, quite opposite really.” He chuckles at the last part. “What would you say, if I asked for these to happen more often?”

“I’d say you’re crazy.” You make no hesitation to give an answer.

Permanent is not what you are looking for, which is why these once in a while hotel meet ups work for you. A permanent solution to your needs isn’t doable at the moment, which is why you had more than a few at hand solutions hiding away in your sock drawer. Did Tom even realize what he was asking? How would such a thing work? Him in London and you here, it was silly.

“Mmm.” He hummed licking his lips and rubbing his shoulder. A sign of frustration that you had picked up on. “Not even a try, then?”

“What are you even asking? You know full well that I won’t do exclusive, it’s complicated, and I don’t want to be tied down.” Not even to a man like this. Not now.

Humming, Tom licks his lips and sighs. “Then it is fair that I tell you this now, tonight was my last event with the company. They’ve taken a new direction and I won’t be doing this any longer.” He’d been working out how to tell you the news for weeks.

“Oh,” A slight disappointment runs through your body. “I see.”

If he was trying to ruin the mood, Tom had succeeded, and with little to no effort.

“Well, we can still…” You pause. “You could, still…”

“Oh, love.” His eyes are sad and his face hard to read. “I won’t be back, not without a good reason, or work. Crazy as I may be, I don’t think we need to end, but there are a few strings.”

“I understand.” Your chest lifts in a defeated sigh. Brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, you close your eyes, trying to pace your thoughts. “Well, then I suppose we make tonight extra special?”

[shade-without-color]

Camaraderie 5+1 witcher Fanfic: Chapter 6: Together

Note: So amidst the lightness of my Toussaint fic,this one is a little more angsty which I deal with Cahir and Milva ,two quite fascinating characters who have a quieter moment just talking. So it is a little more challeneging but I hoped I nailed their voices and personalites (Mostly Milva as she is my favourite besides Regis). So I have fun doing these chapters a lot. So what is next for Witcher fanfics is more Regis-centered stuff which I have some ideas. So this is not the end guys!

Regis traced the rim of the bottle “We were so wide-eyed then,expect we did not know what is in store for us.” Regis bemused slightly “I suppose I understood Cahir’s paranoia on what is to come. I recall on that last assault,I watched him grit his teeth as he fought against one of the deadliest bounty hunters. Leo Bonhart will ring a bell to you” 

Dandelion sipped slightly “Heard all about from Cirlla and Geralt. Know about that clause,Cahir fought a good fight I supposed. And Milva’s penance?-“ Dandelion bemused slightly. “I think she has fell in love again,you know Toussaint being the city of lovers,but I supposedly she did not find that peace.” Regis nodded quietly “She just made her mind that she will fight for Cirilla,that poor girl did not deserve such hardship. In fact we all do not need to go for that exposition at all. I could have stayed in the courtyards of Dillgen minding my own business.” 

“But you intervened as always.” Dandelion chuckled slightly. “Your heart is always walking for the weak and hoping for penance.”Dandelion grew somber as Regis recounted that that moment in the castle Stygga “Bless Milva-“ 

“Yes indeed-“ Regis simpered slightly as he sipped the shot bemusedly “It is good for her to take the breather.” 

“And what for some reason,do you make this conclusion.” Dandelion swayed his cup back and forth “is because of your many years in history watching how the tides move back and forth.” as he took out the feather from his cap and pen his musings,after all a man must be able to catch up to all of the madcap memories they have in this wild city.  Regis swallowed slightly on that liquor,it was different he has seen Milva changed in that city of Toussaint,and so is Cahir,as always in his dreams-he become the silence and the quiet. “I think somehow in their heart they somehow connected one another.” 

Perhaps they could think how they would spend evenings in Toussaint. It was that particular night,Regis cracked a small eye to glance at Cahir fiddling through his hair,moving the strands from his eyes. There is that melancholy that writhed in his heart. He burnt in Toussaint,he become the shadow and the dark. He seems to stare by the movements of time. His ears drummed to Emhrys' warning on his failure. "You seems rather glum Cahir." That calm reassuring voice broke out from his dreamy haze,perhaps he was pondering on his silence. "You should relax young man,no one is watching us." Regis smiled bemusedly. There is that strange reassurance with Regis,he seems to echo his essence of his father resting in Vicacavo "I can reassure you that." 

Cahir cleared his throat slightly as he gave a bemused laugh "You can be sure." as he placed his helmet down on the table "You know that Geralt being ill temepred he nearly killed me three times when we met. Supposedly I have whoever it is alive that my head is not displayed in front of the Black Sun." "I cannot take your better judgement of that." Regis simpered quietly "Yes Geralt can be rather brooding but I know his heart,he is a good man and perhaps he judged your heart for ensuring Cirlla's safety which is noble and kind of you." as he rolled his shoulders slightly. "Perhaps some camaraderie will lift your spirits." 

"Geez Regis stop tormenting Cahir with your infinite knowledge" Milva came in,she was no longer in that stuffy dress,corseted to her waistline. She seems much freer and if not have a slight skip in her step. Regis grew silent on Milva's shot back,he indeed learned it the hard way the last he interrupted her "Well Cahir." as she swung her arm unto him "Let's just unwind Cahir,you always seems so stiff in with your declarations. A little drink would help. Just ignore Regis eh?" 

Cahir smiled slightly,Milva is slowly getting back to her usual self,as she tried to get away from the heartbreak "Perhaps." Cahir mused slightly "At least you did not dictate who and when like my father." 

Those words triggered flashbacks in her mind. Milva could recall how her father would teach her how to extend the bow,her little fingers curling with his. She grew silent again. Cahir dropped that remark "You seems pale." Milva swallowed her pain,her hands tremble slightly. "I should be alright." "Come I will treat you to a shot." Cahir mused slightly "You needed solace as I do." 

These two souls passed through the maddening crowds of Toussaint,Milva smirked slightly-she could see why Angulome would go for extended periods just wandering through the streets. Each day,a new face beckoned that young face,a different scent of lemons and roasted pigeon could make her mouth water. For Cahir Toussaint simply become the ghosts of his home. He could see traces of his mother,brothers he never fenced over and sisters whom he could see traces. Milva gave a slap to Cahir "Stop drifting damnit." 

Cahir's eyes widened slightly,as if Toussaint's alluring haze burn in his blood. Milva bit her lip slightly as if out of disdain. A small bar perked their interest. "You wanna come in." Milva muttered slightly.  Cahir raised an eyebrow as he saw a patron tossing,singing an old song. Milva simpered slightly “Suppose it works.” 

No surprise that Toussaint boasted the most wondrous wines and fruit. Their senses burnt with the mouther-watering sights of good mead and wine “Seems we lived over two different worlds altogether-" Cahir bemused slightly,as he tried to curl his fingers into a mug but it has that stiffness. “A spy working with the most feared archer of Scotiael,an odd pairing eh-“ Milva held her glass high “not to mention a prophet who is a vampire.” as she drank the shot gently.  "Old injury eh -" 

"in contrary recent..." Cahir simpered slightly "got into a fight with Cirilla during a coup. She is fast as the blinking light, slashed through my fingers." Till this day I could not bend my fingers well.” 

Milva noticed his slight twitch,it could be a secret agent from the emperor's gaze watching over Cahir. Milva could hear him mutter his words "Shit" under his breath. “Stop worrying Cahir-“ Milva bemused slightly as she fiddled with the drinks “We will be fine,no one would recognise your damn mug,after all in the posters. They will only see you in the helmet.” 

“I am not!-“ Cahir blurted slightly. “You cannot trust people that is what I learn the hard way I suppose. We have to stand guard.” 

“That is all nothing but bullshit.” Milva’s lip curled slightly as she sipped her shot slightly. For that one still moment she could hear a still heartbeat in her stomach. It could be a different human. She could feel his or hers feet and hands gripping hers. “We do not rely on ourselves,for our sake..” Milva bemused quietly. “we will fall for others over and over again.” That flash again,when she rejected the proposal how his aqua eyes flash with bemusement and she withholding herself to the calmness. “I am afraid we are just human..hate to say it.” Milva just stared by,looking at the passerby smiling one another. Perhaps a wench got lucky to find a man of her dreams. But it is all but temporary.“But we all have to move forward somehow or some matter.” Somehow that proposal played in her mind. It could be different in a parallel timeline and space. For now she barely spoke but to drink another shot. “Something troubling you.” Milva shook her head slightly. “Nothing…” “Come on,something must be troubling you,you went back to your moody self since the battle of Rivia.” 

“…It is nothing.” 

“Quit with all that bullshit.” Cahir simpered slightly “I think you are thinking of your companion-The Baron? What is his name…” Milva rolled her eyes slightly “Shut up-“ Cahir grew silent on that matter. “ I supposedly you do not want to talk about that matter.” Milva nodded slightly,as she watched him squeeze her hand tightly “But should you be up to it,whatever happens let me know. I am here for you.” Milva lit up slightly with a small smile “Thanks…do you recall how we rest at that one point,it was the forest that evening. Geralt managed to get his wits to let you in.” 

“Much later,you guys just stared with me that I was with child,thanks to Regis’s observations. Hate to say that he actually saved my life."Cahir could recall that night at their resting point how he was woken up by the hurling sounds of Milva and Regis gently lifting her up gently and feeding her with liquids “Regis is always a better peacekeeper,supposedly he is more level headed than Geralt.” There she took a shot “Well I still cannot forgive you for kicking me when we have to sleep together. Not to mention that Dandelion can be a loud snorer.” “I supposed we all have each other's’ demons,Regis has many.” Cahir sighed bemusedly “Hated to quote him,fate leads us to different paths. We all joined Geralt just to quell them. We have to find it somehow." 

“All for the same cause-“ Cahir and Milva bemused together in sync. For once they do share that same ideology Regis could be the glue of that rag-tag team,all with the same clause. 

At that one moment, Cahir glanced at that same stranger again,watching them muse by. A soft voice rang in there “I suppose you have finished pouring our hearts out.” Both Cahir and Milva’s eyes widened with horror “Have you been listening to us for the whole entire time?-“ Milva barked slightly. Regis took Cahir’s arms tightly “Seems that someone has caught our trail,rest up. Tomorrow we will be leaving.” 

“Whose orders is that.” 

“Geralt." 

“Perhaps. I do not have a connection with Cirilla not by blood,but I know it was the morally right thing to do” Regis simpered slightly “I could say that I shudder that thought of being melted in mid air. All I could recall are the cackles of Vilgetroz. That kept me up at some nights.” as he drank again. A lump is stuck in his throat. Dandelion held his arm to his shoulder as he watched him slumped slightly. “Perhaps Cahir and Milva know what they are getting themselves too. They paid the price,you did much more and he will be in your debt.” Regis smiled slightly “I supposed so. I wonder what did happen to Milva.” 

“She fought valiantly. As Geralt recounted.” Dandelion simpered quietly “Perhaps she could meet that child again.” 

The pub went silent, perhaps it was in the memory of an archer named Maria Barring and The Black Knight Cahir.

[recentanimenews]

A Barrage of Buffy

Because I am a great big geek, one of my personal goals is to read all of the novels inspired by Buffy the Vampire Slayer. This is the second in a series of posts collecting relatively short reviews of these books. All of the following are set during the show’s third season.

Obsidian Fate by Diana G. Gallagher In 1520, a Spaniard conveying stolen Aztec treasure to a secret hiding place was killed by a mudslide while holding a particular obsidian mirror. Now, his remains have been found in an archaeological dig in Sunnydale. It turns out that the mirror contains the essence of the Aztec god of night, Tezcatlipoca, who quickly makes a graduate student working on the dig his High Priestess and adopts a jaguar form to prowl around and do some chomps. The gang must prevent his brainwashed followers from offering enough human sacrifices to empower Tezcatlipoca to banish the sun forever.

There were definitely things I liked about Obsidian Fate. I liked that Buffy is worrying about her friends leaving for distant universities and colleges and trying to figure out what she herself is going to do. I liked that Angel has begun to think about moving away to let Buffy live her life. I liked that Giles is still grieving Jenny. A lot of the characterization and dialogue was good—especially Oz, which is pretty difficult to do. Surprisingly, Kendra and Faith both get a mention, though the latter is nowhere to be seen (and this is all set before she goes bad). No Wesley at all. It’s also really neat that the Mayor and Mr. Trick are facilitating Tezcatlipoca’s rise!

But oh man, so many descriptions of temples and stones and boulders and pillars. It’s very tedious. Also, one of their fellow students has become temporary host to part of Tezcatlipoca’s essence and plans to sexually assault Willow prior to sacrificing her. Nobody, besides Oz, seems to be quite as pissed off about this as they should be. Lastly, a subplot about how one of Buffy’s prophetic dreams showed Angel’s demise offers zero suspense. Still, their reunion on the final page does produce a genuinely cute moment.

Is this one worth a read? Eh, it could be worse.

Power of Persuasion by Elizabeth Massie This was a bit of a clunker, I’m afraid. The awkward teen daughter of a culinarily disinclined restaurant owner grows fed up with catering to her incompetent father’s whims and, by chanting supplications whilst surrounded by random items from the restaurant’s pantry, somehow successfully summons a Greek goddess and her two muse daughters to help her change things. They proceed to compel a lot of female students (including Willow) to join their “womyn power” crusade, which mostly involves campaigning for girls to have the right to try out for the vacancies on boys’ teams that arise when male athletes keep turning up dead.

Many of these Buffy media tie-in novels have similarly mediocre plots, but are usually made more tolerable by the author having the ability to capture how characters speak and interact. Not so much here, unfortunately. I appreciated that with Willow, Giles, and Xander falling under the sway of the villains and Angel out of town, Buffy had to rely on Cordelia and Oz to help her. But, while Cordelia’s scenes were fine, much of Oz’s dialogue and demeanor seemed wrong to me. Also, some weird abilities are ascribed to vampires, like one scene where a struggling vamp leaves scorch marks where her heels have dug into the earth.

I suppose the best praise I can muster is, “It’s pretty lame, but at least it’s short.”

Prime Evil by Diana G. Gallagher Seldom have I read a book so starkly divided between enjoyable parts and excruciating parts!

Set after “Doppelgangland,” the plot of Prime Evil involves a witch attuned to “primal magick” who was first born 19,000 years ago and who keeps being reincarnated and gathering sacrificial followers in an attempt to access “the source.” Her current identity is Crystal Gordon, a new history teacher at Sunnydale High, and her latest crop of doomed devotees is composed entirely of students. Obviously, it’s the Scooby Gang’s job to stop her.

First, the good. Most of the scenes with the main characters are fun, with dialogue that I could easily hear in the actors’ voices. Anya and Joyce have significant roles, and there was notable awkwardness between the latter and Giles. Although this was presumably the result of their dalliance in “Band Candy,” I liked that the explanation wasn’t explicitly stated. I thought it was interesting that Crystal tempts Willow to join her disciples by promising a cure for Oz, and I did have to snicker at a scene in which Angel, for the sake of expedience in getting to safety, has to sling Xander over his shoulder.

The bad, however, cannot be denied. There are many tedious flashbacks to Crystal’s past incarnations and these quickly became literally groan-inducing. In addition, the theoretically climactic magical battle at the end is full of prose like “The great source-river of wild magick coursed in violent abandon through the orbits of comets so ancient and distant they had never been warmed by the sun” and succeeded only in making me profoundly sleepy.

In summation… zzz.

Resurrecting Ravana by Ray Garton A rash of cattle mutilations has the Scooby Gang suspecting hellhound activity, but when several people turn up eaten, after each has spontaneously killed their dearest friend, it’s clear something else is up. There’s more of a mystery here than these books generally offer, with a plot that features Hindu gods, an elderly collector of magical artifacts, his lonely granddaughter, and a certain statue that can resurrect a deity who will reward one richly for this service (and whose minions will kill everyone else).

Along the way, a new guidance counselor of Indian descent is introduced (replacing the guy who got killed in “Beauty and the Beasts”). At first, I thought this was going to be another one of those “Willow falls under the sway of a new female staff/faculty member who is secretly evil” storylines, but, refreshingly, that did not turn out to be the case. Willow just talks to her about problems with her relationship with Buffy, which come to a head in a couple of full-on brawls in the library. It takes a really long time for anyone to put together that their situation parallels the murders/devourings happening elsewhere in town, but it does lead to a nice final moment for the book.

Characterization is spotty. Pretty much each character has a moment that feels especially right as well as one that feels especially wrong. Xander and Cordelia’s bickering is even nastier than usual, and it’s never outright said that they’re being affected by the same creatures who manipulated Buffy and Willow. That said, I did enjoy all of Buffy’s interactions with her mother, particularly a late-night trip to Denny’s. All in all, Resurrecting Ravana wasn’t bad!

Return to Chaos by Craig Shaw Gardner Return to Chaos is a bit different from most of the other Buffy tie-in books I’ve read. Instead of a new big villain coming to town, the plot is mostly about some new allies coming to town. A quartet of Druids, specifically, consisting of an older guy named George and his three nephews, one of whom develops feelings for Buffy. George wants to enlists the Slayer’s help in performing a spell on the Hellmouth that will supposedly prevent bad things from crossing over, but he’s really vague about his plans, and it soon becomes evident that he isn’t in his right mind. The nephews genuinely are allies, though, which is kind of refreshing.

This book was written in 1998, and it seems that the author was not privy to much that was going to happen in season three. A couple of vague references are made to Angel coming back, and about Buffy trying to move on romantically, but Xander and Cordelia are still very much together as a couple. That would put this somewhere between “Beauty and the Beasts” (episode four) and “Lover’s Walk” (episode eight), except that it is very clearly spring and we know that “Amends” (episode ten) is Christmas. Oopsies. There are a couple of other small errors, too, concerning Buffy’s eye color and Giles’ glasses.

This is another book in which there’s more of Oz than I’d been expecting. Some of his scenes and thoughts are okay, and I appreciated that the author wrote a teensy bit about Oz’s family, but at other times he just seems far too verbose. (This, combined with the errors mentioned above, makes me wonder just how familiar the author was with these characters.) Cordelia has a subplot of her own, as well, in which she falls under the thrall of a former rival turned vampire. The Druids recognize that the vampire is using a “mastery” spell, which is likened to the power Drusilla exhibited when she was able to kill Kendra so easily. I thought that was kind of neat.

In the end, despite some flaws, it turned out to be pretty decent.

Revenant by Mel Odom In 1853, 35 Chinese laborers were killed in a mine cave-in on a site owned by some of Sunnydale’s forefathers. The incident was covered up and families were unable to provide their loved ones with a proper burial. Now, the unquiet spirits of those men want vengeance on the owners’ descendants and have managed to communicate with the troubled brother of one of Willow’s friends, who enlists her help. Honestly, this plot doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but there’s a rich importer involved (who’s receiving help from the mayor) and chanting and statues and dragons and warehouses what go boom and demons that turn into goop.

Sometimes, Odom has a bit of trouble with characterization—Oz’s dialogue often doesn’t feel quite right, and sometimes Buffy comes off as vapid, like an early scene where she’s worried about her hair while Willow is running for her life—but other scenes are spot-on. I particularly liked a moment where Giles is forced to hotwire a truck (“I was not always a good boy”) and the final scene wherein Xander attempts to parlay his latest romantic disappointment into Buffy’s half of a Twinkie they’re sharing. Odom also incorporates and elaborates on some of the issues characters are worrying about at this point in the show: Buffy ponders her future with Angel, Xander dreads being left behind after graduation, and Cordelia seeks to avoid trouble at home by helping with research. The action scenes are easy to envision, as well.

Unlike most other books set during this season, the brief Xander/Willow fling and its fallout are acknowledged. Like the others, neither Faith nor Wesley is mentioned, and the former’s absence is particularly glaring, given the evident difficulty of the big battle. Still, Revenant ended up being a pleasant surprise.

By: Michelle Smith

[craftychocovibes]

MIDNIGHT SNACK

When water tastes like it's from Gods personal Pond

Do you ever eat at random hours of the night? I do sometimes, with many days in between, hehee. I eat all sorts of things, from full meals to sizeable portions of junk. Who says no to fried waru? My favorite midnight snacks are veggie sandwiches and fruit. Mangoes are the unicorn of fruit I believe. From how they look to how they taste down to their benefits. My fruit vendor probably purchased his new fruit cart with my 'hardware' contributions' over the lasts 2 months. Such a simple and rich taste feels wonderful without the disturbances we encounter in the course of the day. It's like the dark of night offers the perfect companion for such indulgence. Perhaps one of the most therapeutic acts of a silent night, having something to eat in silence. Aside from fruit Jenga while trying to get a banana from a pile of Vegetables.

Those of us that consider ourselves nocturnal do all sorts of things in the dead of night. Some work through the night, either indoors or taking a shift at their place of work. Some cook, coming up with entire meals and recipes. Some party, though I fail to understand how we ever managed to make it to 6 AM back on campus. Honestly, siku hizi nimebaki jina kaa bibo. Lovers have a perspective of the night that can only be experienced by those in the same boat. When time and space merge, and bonding sessions stretch into the dead of night with stars coming up randomly in conversations and shadows take on a personality. A guy I know chooses to stay up because the WiFi in his building works better at night. I suggested moving to a place with a pro-active landlord but got a smoldering glare in return, well that's that.

Book lovers if anyone thrive in the silence and serenity of the night. The perfect stage for unfolding drama. When characters and stories take on life, our imaginations making them as real as can be and because for a while, they always are. When we lose ourselves in the lives of characters, forming bonds, gaining insight, the occasional tear, bounds of laughter and the simple satisfaction of feeding our minds in the best way we know how. Reading is an intrinsic interest for me, a stepping stone that helps me fast forward into evolution. Books are just thoughts by someone else that carry new information literally or figuratively between the lines. Reading is time traveling.

To me, the secrets of life lie in books of all kinds which open the layers of vaults in my mind, watering my imagination and expanding my creativity. Books pave the way for experiences, especially books on topics that had never crossed my mind; "The subtle art of hypnosis, Marijuana growers handbook, The law of one, Babylonian Talmud". The ones I stumble upon when browsing on Amazon for a good read; "The Occult Anatomy of Man, The power of Now, Book of Secrets". Or those I get from random Facebook pages, vast online libraries and those that land on my email courtesy of a friend; " Why Vegans are onto something, The god conspiracy, Herbology, Erotic Memoirs, awakening the third eye". By reading such books my life is never the same. Such books challenge who you are, what you do, what you eat, who you relate to, what you practice and preach, how you think, perceive, respond and the entire periphery surrounding your being. Books that challenge facts you have always known, who you have always been and what you have always thought. Such books are no different from other books, just that they offer choices in between the information they relay. Choices to think and intentionally seek guidance towards freedom of the mind, heart, body, and soul. That instead of watching the lives of other characters unfold, you can take said information, practice it and as a result multiply the choices in your life. Creating a life with so many choices, that you can only live intentionally not out of habit. Si kubahatisha. I choose to share what I learn along the way in my own way. Someone will definitely relate, for learning is but one of the constant themes of life.

The food I eat in between reading books is a privilege I cannot take for granted. It is because of books that I know what I know. The end product that we consume as food is a result of billions and trillions of micro-beings that power the universe. Sunrays through the ether to me and you and to the food that gives us life, without which not a single plant would exist, let alone grow. Is the sun divine? A balanced and Alkaline diet is required to maintain an aura of health and vitality. We are carbon-based beings made up of 102 minerals, (as per Dr.Sebi's Afican biomineral diet). Nutrition is a big part of life, probably the biggest and so is the access to this food. To readily access fruit and vegetables is a thing to celebrate and be grateful for. It is said that an interest in books and reading to a point of mental liberation, can be directly linked to one's diet. Supplementing your body with the right nutrients it needs to properly function requires strategy and wisdom. Otherwise, anything goes. Enter GMO's. which are just... I can't even...Tsk. Food is the foundation of the building blocks of genes, and if genetically modified... Kuku hatagi nyoka, tafakari. A properly balanced diet accompanied by intermittent fasting is the closest you will ever get to 'servicing your vehicle'. Yet urban thought patterns will have you thinking that 'watching' and observing your diet isn't important enough. Please, dear soul. Your body is a vessel that ferries you across the earth as you interact with other vehicles ferrying souls across the entire world, Every. Single. Day. Of. Your. Life. What enters your mouth should ever be a priority. Unchain yourself.

Efficiently supplementing your body with necessary nutrients enables the networks in your brain to function efficiently which in turn powers the mind to work beyond the scope of wonder. The trinity comprises of the Soul, Body, and Mind. Master, Vessel, and Servant. Equilibrium must be maintained. The mechanics of our bodies are governed by the nutrients that get to our bodies. Not only does proper nutrition supplement internal physical and mental health, but healthy skin, hair, and nails are a default guarantee. Food is God's way of keeping our bodies alive while we spend our time here on earth, living, loving, laughing, earning, and existing intentionally with the people that surround us and spend time with. It's a gift that freely grows all over the earth so the sons and daughters of the most high can freely access these gifts wherever they go. Our lives are centered around food. We take care of our bodies by balancing and supplementing the functions and systems that run the universe in our bodies. Man is a miniature version of the universe(You should really have a look at the "Occult Anatomy of Man by Manly P. Hall", its only 20 pages long and you would be sparing me from sounding like an evangelist due to repetition. You're the god of your innerverse and you owe it to yourself to take responsibility. For everyone to be alive they need food. Hunger can literally drive you mad and a crappy diet tips the opposite scale. However, most of us take food for granted. What to do?

If you can read this, chances are high you rarely go a day without food. At least not due to of lack of food. Probably due to lack of time, a weight loss diet you're on, temporary money issues or maybe you're too tired to eat. For some, the access to any kind of food is a luxury. Something rare and rationed, seen every now and then. Some barely access a scale of food enough to balance their diets leading to nutritional deficiencies like kwashiorkor. Food is a gift, and half of us abuse and misuse this gift. Junk is abuse of the body methinks. Worst case scenario you're dramatically damaging the troops that make up the armies that govern the 'mechanical' -( and I say mechanical because the wonders that make up the ways of the cells is a story for another day) ways that keep the body running. By feeding the body any unnecessary compounds that strain organ functionality we set the wheels of another dimension spinning. You must watch what you eat, garbage in garbage out. If you took the time to lovingly supplement the cells that power your body, your body will in turn lovingly house your mind and soul, powering you to heights unknown. You can imagine the outcome... That's all you can do, imagine it, unless you took the active role of watching what you eat. There are gods who walk among men simply because they understand the balance between the trinity that makes up the occult anatomy of man.

Awareness on the importance of the importance of Food is very important. Diet is important. Nutrition is invaluable. Everyone has a right to food and the least we can all do is keep them alive for their journey on earth to continue. Without food, we die. This is the human way. And so far we're all human, aren't we?( if you came by interstellar travel this is your greenlight) We eat to live, period. Food is such a joy to our lives we have entire industries centered around food. Hehe, another story for another day for we truly have many days together. They're already here, from the sun to the food we crave, down to the dynamics of our thoughts and the functionalities of our bodies. In this moment, give thanks for food. These are the musings of a midnight snack. As the armies in my body receive the fruit I give...

So grab a midnight snack every now and then, joining Alice down the rabbit hole into wonderland... Such WonderLust.