#famous last words before being forced to admit that you are someone's destiny and want to be it

[iamacolor]

we'll see about that in a few weeks shall we?

[fullsunalicia]

loved rags and riches!! if you have time, could you also write a chenle version, like a crazy rich asians au or like a chaebol au? thank you!

broken hearts club — ZCL

it’s been a long time since someone has touched zhong chenle’s frozen heart. he’s closed it off to the entire world and dedicated it to his music and the empire that he’s going to inherit. somehow though, there’s a girl with a weakness for puppies who manages to light a match for the ice clump that sits in chenle’s chest.

zhong chenle as astrid leong - kind of. :-) i hope you enjoy love. thank you for requesting. <3

Over the years, the map to Chenle’s heart has been destroyed and burnt. Many have tried to recover it, retrace the steps as they try to remember. Not one person comes close, as the only thing Chenle loves is the music and the puppy he was gifted by his favorite cousin, Renjun.

The people call him a narcissist. His family calls him lost.

He calls himself Zhong Chenle. Nothing more, nothing less. He likes sitting together with his band mates and share several bottles of soju. Whenever soneone speaks chinese with him, it sounds like music to his ears. In Korea, far from home, the only chance he gets to use his mother tongue is with Renjun, and Chenle likes it like that. He couldn’t be further away from home, and all the pain that household has brought him.

Some would kill to be in his place. The only heir to a billion dollar sum, and even richer on his own. A famous musician who’s climbing the charts and breaking records everyday. Yet money has always been a curse to Chenle. It gave him heartbreak, distrust and emotional distance to everyone who’s ever been close to him. Chenle’s heart has frozen over, as cold as the arctic, the ice prince of the Zhong family. That’s what his parents have always wanted, anyways - his ex girlfriend out of their eyes, so that they could marry Chenle off to God knows who. When she had cheated on him, they have waited for Chenle with open arms to come back home, just to stab him in the back themselves.

A beggar. That’s what his mother had called Suyin, the only woman he’s ever loved.

Choi Suyin had carved out his heart and locked it in a chest, far away for anyone ever to reach. Like Davy Jones, only that Chenle has never betrayed. He was Calypso, heartbroken and full of fury, bound to his bones. Doomed to roam the world forever, without feeling anything. Detached from reality. It felt like Chenle was standing inside of a glass house, with no way to escape, only ever being able to look out. He recognizes the sorrow and the pain that’s coming to come crashing in someday and wreck him. But there is no way to ever set him free again and honestly, he isn’t even sure if he ever wants to. Love has ruined him; it has ruined his perception of people and of himself. Suyin had wanted him to make her a princess.

He can’t make her something she is not.

The whispers follow Chenle down the hall whenever he is home, though that’s a rare occasion. Fool, they murmur. A blind man. Almost robbed. If he could, he’d smash the glass of his cage and use it to wildly stab around, willing to hurt anyone who gets in the way. He wants them to feel, to suffer what he endures all day and night, a never ending nightmare. The torture of the shining jewelry, sent to him by his mother, serving as a silent reminder of what is waiting for him when the family forces Chenle’s hand and makes him return.

The ghoulish wedding that awaits him. Chenle counts the days, prays that he finds the key to the locker he never wants to see again. Dread fills him at the mere prospect of romance, but he’d rather be in pain for another thousand years instead of being married off like some worthless thing. Like his career never meant something, only some ploy of entertainment, never serious to his parents. It’s all about business, never pleasure, never happiness. To think about the company is more important than to think about your mental health. If that turns you into a psychopath, you’ll just have to make a business idea out of it and see where it gets you.

Therapy to the Zhongs is alcohol, and income. That was the very first lesson to be learnt. It’s deeply ingrained into his soul, and no matter how much time Chenle wastes at his attempts, he cannot wipe it away. Even for music, his first and true love, his mind goes to the sales first instead of the talent the song can pull out of him. Will his voice attract buyers? How should he dress to seduce the crowd? It’s all just a show, and all the roles are casted by him. What a show it is, though.

From the distance, it looks perfect. No stage fright, only elegance. The closer you get, the more you realize it’s a circus. Chenle is the biggest clown you’ll ever set eyes on.

The road to his heart is harsh and frozen. Maybe the damage is too great that anyone will ever be able to walk upon it again. But you’re willing to take the chance.

Chenle looks down as you pet the little Samoyed behind his ear, big smile on your lips. Honest; unusually so. He’s too used to choking on the sugar that keeps dripping from peoples’ lies. And here you are, jumping from stone to stone on the way to his heart, like you’re crossing some river. And you haven’t even looked at him yet.

“This dog is absolutely beautiful,” you hum, the happiness in your voice thrumming inside his head. Pleasing to listen to. “So beautiful, aren’t you? Of course you are. Pretty baby...”

You’ve taken the words out of Chenle’s mouth, but they weren’t exactly for Chan. If he was another man, he’d tell them to you. Because he isn’t, he’d rather choke on them than speak them aloud.

“He really is.” Finally, you look up. Your eyes are as pure as your mouth, see-through, easy to trust. It makes alarms ring in the ice prince’s head, and he’s pulling up the bridges to the castle in panic. He doesn’t know how you managed to do that with one look, and he honestly doesn’t want to know.

He can’t afford to find out. He can’t. Chenle is still reeling from the wound Suyin has inflicted him, running as deep as the ocean, straight through his heart. A cruel metaphor for cupid’s arrow. Still, you make Chenle want to pull it out and offer it to you. Curious whether you’d drive it back in, or break it and set him free.

The hope blooming inside his chest makes him wish for the latter.

Your beauty is already alluring just the way it is, but when your lips curve into a soft smile, you break all the viewers’ hearts in the loveliest way. It’s brighter than any jewel Chenle’s ever set eyes on, and he has already seen enough to last him a lifetime. Sick of them, actually. For you, he’d be willing to try and search for one that matches your radiance. “Love dogs too much to resist,” you admit. “I apologize for caressing the pretty boy out of the blue, but I’ve never been able to turn away from puppy dog eyes.”

“Me, too.” Chenle sinks into a squatting position so you’re both on eye level. It physically hurts to watch you blush. It hurts because he can imagine being the old Chenle who’d ask you on a date right here and there. Careless, without any worry in the world, he would take your hand and offer you the world like he had with Suyin. Because money is a burden, but it only became a curse the moment Suyin had conquered him just to enrichen herself. Become a Zhong, a legend. Have it all and spend it all. She never understood that love is more powerful than any money’s worth in the entire world. “Though that makes me a bad dog owner, doesn’t it? It gets kinda hard to be strict with him when he looks at me in such an adorable way. My baby..”

Chan presses his fuzzy head to Chenle’s palm. The only one in this world who’d ever love him just for being him. Chenle smiles and scratches the back of his baby’s ear, pleased with the rumble Chan lets out at that. Both dog and owner know the other like the back of their hand. You watch the wholesome interaction, the kindness in your eyes makes Chenle soft.

Right now, you’re knocking at the doors to his heart, begging to be let in like in The Princess and the Pea. He forces himself to turn away.

He’s a masochist, but this is too much for even Zhong Chenle.

“Never had a dog again after mine passed away when I was sixteen.” Your voice is a little bit distant now, hollow. Detached. Your heart has been broken in a different way than his has, but the pain is very similar. Chenle recognizes himself in the way you wrap your arms around your own frame, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together. To force the broken pieces to stay in place. He wants to tell you that you’re never going to be able to do that alone, but he’s too much of a coward who doesn’t trust anyone in the world. Not anymore. “Hurt too much. Felt like a betrayal. I still love dogs more than anyone else, but I think I’m just not ready to adopt another one. At least not in the near future.”

Chenle agrees, though you’re talking about two seperate things. He needs to quit love, like an addict checking himself into rehab. It’s a must, not a neccesity. Though it makes him sick to the stomach, he forces himself to stick to the company procedure. Business before pleasure. Business before anything.

❀ ❀ ❀

Love has never hurt you before. Never have you brushed hands with death and decay the way Chenle has, but you see it in his eyes. The passing ghost of a lover who once was. Where should be warmth is steel, the protective shell of a man who wants nothing to do with the world.

But how stunning that man is. Of course, your entire attention had been on the dog first, but when you locked eyes with Chenle - what an experience! The taste of heaven in one look. Sharp features, as dangerous as knives. Unruly dark hair, the color of the sky at midnight, colder than any breeze that’s ever shaken you up. You don’t believe in love at first sight, not in destiny.

Still, you came so close to it. You saw where the universe breathed life into Chenle. The shaping of dying stars and the brightest burning suns. He’s both Pandora’s box and the golden fleece in one. All you had managed to coax out of him was his name, and of course the one of the dog who you spent ten minutes playing with. You’ve not known about Zhong Chenle before, but you certainly do now.

The only son of his prestigious family. World renowned musician, the critics call his voice that of an angel. Of course he is an angel. Have they seen him? Instagram spits out more information than you’d expected to receive, but here you are, reading an article about his ex girlfriend.

Definitely not creepy or anything.

It’s certainly a explanation. The illness-ridden soul of a man so young, he is still clinging to adolescence. Grief is a terrible disease. You weirdly feel like you’ve stepped into a room where people had been arguing, and now the awkward silence is weighing heavy on you. You’d desperately like to walk out, but something keeps you there like an invisible anchor. The lure of someone as gorgeous as Zhong Chenle, with the promise of secrets as sacred as religious scrolls.

You wonder if you would be going too far if you followed the guy on Instagram. That face is too pretty to miss out on. But there’s also your curiousity that keeps drawing you in, makes your mind wonder and wander off to the countless possibilities of who Chenle is who he is. You need satisfaction to bring you back, or you’ll just stay a dead, curious cat.

One that definitely drops her phone on her own face when she sees that the mentioned more-angel-than-man has followed her back. The man has two point three million followers, for Christ’s sake! There would be no way for him to randomly pick you out from the countless names that fill up his notifications, right? Wrong.

There’s a private message waiting for you as you accept his following request.

[07:27pm] @zhcl: i see you found the pictures of chan already.

The tabloids speak of zero interest towards any other person that’s not family or bandmate. So why, pray tell, does Chenle indulge you?

You grasp the opportunity, anyways. You want to find out what lies behind the ice, waiting to be discovered.

[07:33pm] @yn: i was quite distracted by the handsome fellow that photographed him, though.

[07:34pm] @zhcl: very smooth, miss (y/n). were you blushing when you typed that?

[07:34pm] @zhcl: you look too cute to be taken serious when you do.

[07:35pm] @yn: flirting, are we?

You felt the chill when Chenle had spoken to you. The hidden danger behind a calm voice. Still waters which hide deadly sirens. You know now that he was hurt, terribly so, and it made you feel guilty about your interest in him. The world had treated him badly and here you were, acting like it was nothing. You clutch your phone, ready to be heavily told off and the follow to be retracted.

Your heart almost stops when your phone vibrates, the ring tone suddenly much too loud.

[07:39pm] @zhcl: is it working?

❀ ❀ ❀

Chenle’s mother never changes.

When he enters the house, several servants swarm him to help with shoes and jacket, but he passes them all. The hall is cold, freezingly so, unusual for his mother who seems to fuel the open fire with wads of cash. This is the house he’s grown up in, too big for the warmth of love and affection to be felt inside it. The family members too far away from each other to even interact, like stars in the nightsky. Related, but never touching, never in contact. When they do, it detonates a violent supernova, and that never ends good.

Chenle still remembers the smashed glasses at the end of the family event, thrown against the wall by a Huang cousin who’s name Chenle would rather choke on than ever speak again. A Huang, but not of Renjun’s siblings. A bastard, that’s what he is. He, who usurped his father’s power and wastes all his money on sex, alcohol and entertainment. It’s a blessing this guy will never inherit the family business, though he pities Renjun for having to do it. Just as much as he pities himself.

When Suyin had left, the people had started gossiping. Spreading rumors, spreading hope. The ice prince is on the market again, ready to be courted, to fall victim to a woman’s temptation. His parents had spent eternity dragging Suyin’s name through the mud, because she was just an ordinary girl. Not rich, not poor. She works the graveyard shift at a diner and sometimes helps out in her dad’s restaurant for some extra cash. Fashion enthusiast. Homewrecker. The poor girl that was left at the altar because of Suyin - he’s seen the engagement ring on her finger, and he knows what it means to that particular Huang.

Absolutely nothing. The means to an end. A way to keep some more money because of taxes that are shared as an married couple.

To Chenle’s parents, Suyin could have very well been living under a bridge. His mother wishes to wed him with a princess, royal born, not made. Merge companies with people she trusts and strip ressources of. Birds of a feather. Truly, the marriage of the century. Too bad that Chenle only marries out of love. Too bad that’s the thing he’s sworn off for the rest of his life.

His mind punishes him instantly for that lie, your face flashing infront of his inner eye.

Sweet (y/n). It’s a little embarrassing how quick he jumps at his phone at any sign that you could’ve responded, and it scares him to no end. You scare him, with your good intentions and charming smile. When you had agreed to meet each other again, Chenle had let himself be dragged to a café of your choosing. There’s still the lingering taste of coffee cake on it.

Your kiss still burns on his cheek. Never forgotten for a second. A constant reminder.

As clear as day, the memory plays out in his mind. You had looked up to him while he tasted your pastry of recommendation, head lost in the clouds. You’re always thinking about something. You have the same look in your eyes as the one in Renjun’s when he searches for words that can’t be put in the same context as Suyin.

“You know who I am.”

You had stealen his fork and scooped up your own share of the cake. That was rather cheeky of you, paying for the dessert even though Chenle was already getting his wallet out. You’re stubborn. “I’ve heard of you,” you had told him. After listening to so many untruths all of his life, even your honesty starts to hurt in his ears. It makes him uneasy. “But that doesn’t mean I know you. I would like to. Will you let me?”

Not once had you looked scared when Chenle’s hands had turned into fists, the veins on them becoming prominent. The sight of a tortured man who’s trying to keep it together. A face that’s mapped out with sorrow and anger and betrayal. “I could hurt you. I’m afraid there isn’t much left to get to know. I’ve thrown it all away. Did you hear of that?”

You had started cutting the cake in pieces, long lashes caressing your skin as you look down. The wish to touch you had hit him so strongly, it almost shocked him. Chenle leant forward and accepted the fork in his mouth while watching you intently, finding pure satisfaction in the way roses bloom in your cheeks because of it. Eye contact makes you shy. To you, it’s sensual. You lowered your gaze. “I did.” The fork scraped against his teeth. You took another bite on your own and this time, your eyes never left his. “But I enjoy a good treasure hunt here and there. You look precious, Zhong Chenle. I’d like to look for the pieces with your permission.”

Chenle was so certain his heart was dead, its’ last beat defeaned by the wood it was kept in. Despite that, he had felt the jolt as it spurred back to life, making Chenle believe it returned to him, and the fear that comes along with it.

You’re dangerous, like playing with fire. You instilled the desire to be burned inside an ice prince, and that is too much power for one person to possess. So why does he make no effort to stop you?

“Chenle.” The voice sounds too polite for a mother. She descends the stairs, expression neutral, the walk of a queen. In another life, she’d certainly be one. “Qin ai de. You finally came. I was getting rather tired of calling your phone the past few months. Where have you been?”

Avoiding you, he wants to say. Running away from this castle that’s too vacant and lacks the love to be called a proper home. This is a prison, and you’re the warden dragging me in with chains.

But he doesn’t. Chenle slips into the good son role and lets himself be hugged, even though the embrace is void of any warmth. “Busy,” he responds. “I’m a working man, mom. Singing is a career, you know, despite how much you’d like to ignore it. There must be a reason you supported it so much in my childhood days.”

“That’s exactly the reason, son.” His mother begins climbing the stairs again, an unspoken order for him to follow. Chenle suppresses a sigh and begins climbing, too. It’s only noon, but he already feels drop-dead-tired. “Because it was your childhood. I didn’t expect you to turn your back on an empire to play the singing fool for some teenage girls. I suppose that has its’ benefits, but it’s also rather sad to only see my son in the news and not in person. This is your home, Chenle. We’re not going to crown you emperor the second you step back into this threshold. You’ll take over the company when you want to, even though we’d welcome an early decision.”

Bile rises in his throat before Chenle can stop it. Venom, it’s all venom, and you’re the cure. He only has to get through this. Just a day, and then he gets to see you again. “Sure, mom,” he manages to answer. “I’ll think about it.”

“I didn’t expect you to visit. We have company, you know. They’re both quite lovely, though you’ll like the daughter more.”

This is the reason Chenle refuses to be inside this house for even a second. The looming threat of an arranged marriage. No one’s going to force him to take over the company, but his mother would rather take a bullet than ever allow a Suyin ever again. Even if she looks and talks like an angel that goes by the name (y/n).

The entire time, Chenle is silent. He doesn’t even try to acknowledge the fact that his mother is a terrible wingwoman, and a good way to pass the time is to imagine your face, retrace it in his memories. You, insisting to pay, because it’s “your treat”. You, who never steers the conversation somewhere he doesn’t want it to go. The strawberry blush that makes him want to kiss you until you’re breathless.

You’re a threat, (l/n) (y/n). The closer you get to Davy Jones’ keys, the more he wants to push you away and never see you again. At the same time, Chenle wants to go on his knees and beg you to set him free of this locker.

Nothing could have stopped him from taking the next plane home. His bandmates pick him up, but he’ would have liked it to be you. What he doesn’t like is the look in Renjun’s eyes, the man who is Chenle’s kindred spirit. Renjun knows too much. He saw too much. A shared childhood is both blessing and bother.

“Tell me about (y/n).”

“Absolutely not,” Chenle shoots back without hesitation. “See you, Renjun.” With a quick swing, he tries to force the door closed, but his childhood friend wedges a foot between wood and wall and lets himself in.

“Very reactive to that name, aren’t we, Chenle?” Renjun hums and drops on the couch. He accepts the whiskey Chenle hands him, but cusses the second the younger’s hand meets the back of his head. “You do that again and I’ll strangle you, Zhong, friends or not. Now tell me about the damn woman already.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Because you’re a coward.”

“Yes, I fucking am.” Chenle doesn’t usually curse, but talking about you is a weakness. He doesn’t love Suyin anymore, absolutely not. The years have passed and changed him, whether that’s good or bad. But not his wounds, not the injury done to his precious, ice-cold heart. He’s so afraid of being used, tossed aside like an old toy you don’t want to play with anymore. With just a few actions, you’ll be able to tear Chenle down and ruin him forever. He’s barely stitching himself up from Suyin’s attack and now here you are, pleading to be let in. The desire to allow that is immense, so enourmous it makes him lightheaded.

He won’t survive another girl. Not with this kind of life, with his circumstances, with his upbringing. Love him most or not at all. That is all Chenle can offer you, and maybe that’s unfair. But being just has never helped him with anything, and it certainly hasn’t stopped Choi Suyin from ramming her high heels into the shattered pieces of his broken heart as she walked away.

Renjun watches him over the rim of his glass. Silent, but not in the way where he has to think about not wounding Chenle with his words. Just ... confused. Right now, Renjun is offering advice, not shelter. “Chenle, give yourself a break. You’re human. You’re bound to fall in love someday.”

“Not if I can stop it.”

“You’re not a robot,” Renjun hisses, suddenly volatile, and the loud slam of his glass hitting the mahogany table makes Chenle flinch. Not what he had expected. “I’ve watched you rot for years now, and it has done nothing good for you. I am trying to help you, Chenle, trying to save you from drowning, but you’re thrashing around like a mad man. If you continue like this, you’ll sink yourself to the bottom of the river. Do you want to end up like that? Do you?”

The younger man rubs his eyes, tired. It’s been so long, so unbelievably long since hollowness hasn’t ruled over Zhong Chenle. His parents would never approve of you. It’s going to spike another family war.

Quite frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck.

After a few minutes of some peace and quiet, Chenle finally stands up. He rounds the table separating him and Renjun and bows down to hug him, the suprise evident in Renjun’s eyes when he leans back. “You’re a good friend, Jun,” Chenle tells him. His chest feels light. Maybe it knows that the familiar weight of his heart is returning to it. “A true friend. Thank you.”

He leaves his childhood friend on the couch, his mind already far away, in a place where he can put the keys into your hands without fear. Without hesitation.

They belong to you.

❀ ❀ ❀

“See something you like, Zhong?”

Caught in the act, Chenle looks up and meets your eyes. It would be rather disrespectful to comment on your thighs right now, but if the circumstances were different, if you were already his, he’d tell you all about how good they’d look around his waist. Nonetheless, he only shrugs. “That’s a pretty skirt. Shame I’m going to ruin it by throwing you into the sea.”

“Dont you dare!” Your threat is far from being taken seriously, but Chenle is only teasing you, anyways. You’re light on his arms, more doll than human, and he likes the feeling of you clinging to him for safety. It’s weird - warmth and feeling returning to him. It has been winter inside Zhong Chenle for eternity, and now that he’s pushed open the gates, he feels like he stepped into another realm.

Your skin is warm below his touch. If you dislike his arms wrapped around the back of your thighs, you’re certainly not complaining. The walk to the beach is quiet, except for the squeaks and laughs you let out when he intentionally stops and pretends to fall. “You’re impossible,” you mumble when he sets you down on the picnic blankets.

Excuse you? You’re the one who looks like they just fell down from heaven.

“Is there any reason you decided to kidnap me? Because I didn’t get to see Chan one last time, and that is utmost treason. I demand to see my lawyer.”

“You can see him later.” Chenle tugs you closer. Can you feel his heartbeat below your hands on his chest? The sound is so foreign. Since he accepted the fact that you’re a weakness he can’t ignore, he’s been experiencing arrhythmia non-stop. His heart is just not supposed to be there. An ice prince shouldn’t be able to be melted.

He’d really like to see someone who would withstand you, though. You are heaven and hell, in the shape of a mere human, light as a feather in his arms. There are not many in this world who can claim to have Zhong Chenle wrapped around their little finger. Truth be told, only one person has been able to say that. Now, you’ve snatched away the reigning title, and you’ve deemed Chenle’s lap to be an appropiate throne.

Never would he have assumed that you’d do it on your own accords, but Chenle isn’t complaining. He almost purrs when you straddle his lap, soft skirt pooling around your legs. He screws his eyes shut and tries not to think about the lack of clothes between you two.

Scratch that, you’re a devil. And you are fully aware. The giggle you let fall from your lips doesn’t really sound innocent. He wishes to shut you shut you up with a kiss. What he would give to be in a private room right now.. A dark corner... “What’s so funny, (y/n)?” Chenle mumbles before his thoughts can drift further.

“Just how easy you are to fluster.” You laugh again, not even hiding it this time. The wind breezes through your hair, messing up the curls in his place. Are they as soft as they look like? Chenle wants to find out.

“You mean like you are?” He kisses your cheek as you turn red below his lips. This is what love should have felt like. Freedom and carelessness, not the constant need to look over your shoulder. As easy as breathing. As calm as the sea. The keys to his heart are falling from Chenle’s grip, and he’s not sure he even wants to pick them up.

It’s so easy to let go when he looks into your eyes and sees his future.

“Chenle,” you whisper. His shirt crumples in your grip, but he doesn’t care. Chenle lets himself be tugged closer, his own heartbeat jumping erratically, still unused to being out of the box. The ice floes are melting. You’re breaking him free. When his lips finally meet yours, he forgets all about the years he wasted on irrational sorrow. There should be regret about how he’s denied himself of emotions and the world, but you wash it away with all the hope you’re giving him while your lips move against his. You taste like an antidote.

His parents will never accept you. They’ll have Chenle’s head on a plate and deliver it to a family of their own choosing, one they deem perfect as their in-laws, but he counts on you to fight them back, just like how you’re fighting your way into his heart. You didn’t need the map, you wrote your own. You didn’t need a fire, you used your soul.

The key turns in its’ lock. It’s a perfect fit, just like you.

[monysmediareview]

Juliet, a novel by Ann Fortier Review

This time I have a review for a one-off book rather than a series for you guys and it may have actually reached the top of my list for favorite books ever. Juliet, a novel by Anne Fortier was so incredibly good I worry I’ll never be able to fully describe the way it made me feel reading it. I read this book incredibly slow because the idea of finishing it made me so upset; I didn’t want it to end but also found myself thinking about it constantly.

The Shakespeare of it All

When I found this book at goodwill, I figured I’d grab it just to see what it was. Having a degree in theatre and having studied Shakespeare in Europe, I even work for a Shakespeare specific theatre; I figured it would at the very least be interesting. And I was right, but for the wrong reasons. Shakespeare is barely mentioned as the book is actually about the true story of Romeo & Juliet.

If you don’t already know, Shakespeare stole the story of Romeo & Juliet from an Italian poet who wrote the story in the early to mid 1500’s. That story may have also been stolen from another author from France, and maybe even someone else before that. Thanks to the lack of records or copyright laws, there’s not really a way to be sure but we do know that Shakespeare was not the first, only the most famous. And to be fair, his story is much more intense since it takes place over the course of less than a week while the original plot takes months. There are a few other differences between the two but the gist of it is, two star crossed lovers separated by family feuds and ending in tragedy. And this book takes us through all of that drama and gives us a beautiful and dramatic ending to it all.

The Real Story

Some of the things I loved about this book were actually the historical events and characters. The three families in the story, the Tolomeis, the Salimbenis, and the Marescottis were apparently all real families that had feuds and stories fairly similar to what happened in this book. Fortier wrote in her authors note that she did take some liberties with the history for the sake of the story but that she tried to be faithful to them. I do highly suggest reading her author’s note if you get the book because for me, it made it that much more special.

I think that her ability to blend the past and present was well executed and emotional in ways I wasn’t expecting. I really felt the connection between the Romeo and Giulietta of 1340 and the Romeo and Guiletta of the early 2000’s. Her ability to connect these people not only by blood but by fate and destiny and emotion and passion is unmatched and she managed to do it in roughly 500 pages.

Divine Intervention

I am normally not a fan of books with religious undertones, especially without some kind of supernatural explanation to it but in Juliet it really didn’t strike me as prevalent even though it was. The Virgin Mother and the “curse on both your houses” are two huge driving forces behind this story. Both felt like completely natural pieces of the puzzle rather than an overbearing push for Catholic guilt which could have easily been the case in a story set in Italy spanning 600 years with generational family drama. There was a real feeling of the Virgin Mother being the overseer of the fate of these people and bringing them together, to righting the wrongs done in the past. In a lot of other books this might have felt preach-y or overbearing but it actually made fate feel real.

Love Story

I’m a sucker for a good romance book; I will read love story after love story after love story, but even I can get tired of the same plot over and over again. Sometimes the misogyny gets tiring and I want these female led stories to be about more than finding a man to complete them and this book gave me exactly that.

The story starts and ends with Julie Jacobs’ family. She needs to learn about her family, about her history, where she’s really from. I got so sucked into her journey of self discovery that I kind of forgot it was a love story for a while. And that kind of messed me up when we got there because I had missed a lot of the chemistry build up that I had to think back about to even realize it was there. I was so focused on her learning about her father and visiting banks and libraries that I nearly missed her falling completely in love. But in the end it was one of the most passionate and tumultuous love stories, because when you’re Romeo & Juliet, how could you have anything else?

My Personal Opinion on R&J

Following that I want to talk quickly about Romeo & Juliet. If you’ve taken a Shakespeare class or even just a high school English class at some point you’ve probably talked about this. Sometimes it gets glossed over because it’s one of the well known stories and they don’t usually waste time on it but I’m going to.

Classes like this tend to brush these lovers off as horny teenagers who are in lust and get married so they can bone each other but I think that’s a sad approach. I’ll even admit that was my view on it for a while, but not now. It’s a love story. It’s the love story. So to read an in depth story like this that doesn’t diminish the real feelings they had for each other was very pleasing. I might write a whole thing about some of my Shakespeare opinions one day but for now I will leave you with this:

To thine own self be true. Shakespeare is theatre. It isn’t mean to be read, it’s meant to be staged. And the beauty of theatre is that every single production of every play is different (at least it’s supposed to be. Some directors have yet to learn this, but I digress). This means that everyone interprets things differently, so while I think Romeo & Juliet are the ultimate lovers, you might think they were just horny teenagers. And that’s okay.

Generational Drama

Generational stories like this hold a special place in my heart. I’m not sure what it is exactly, but the idea of fate and family and stories that span hundreds of years just really get me. I won’t go on about this too much because I’ve already mentioned it a few times but I love the redemption that Romeo and Guilietta get through their ancestors, even if it was 600 years later. I love that their love lasted generations and the thought of how the spirits of the original couple feel looking at themselves, their ancestors, finally bringing their families together chokes me up a little if I’m being honest.

Alessandro

I was really not counting on Alessandro being such an important piece of this story, but his evolution as a character was a fucking ride. Going from a security guard/driver, to basically an undercover cop, to potential lover, to fake identity, to actual lover, to liar and cheat, to being framed and actually being a lover and savior was intense. Ideal. I loved and hated him through the whole thing but I was very happy with where he ended up.

Symbolism

There is so much symbolism in this book. The gems being the color of their eyes, the golden statues, the paintings, the maestros. All of it. It can be found on almost every page. But there were a few that really stood out to me.

The cencio and dagger constantly popping up as important of the story for Giulietta was not lost on me. I’m still tossing around what I think it really means, actually, but where I stand now is the idea of an official marriage and what makes it official in the eyes of the Virgin Mother. Romeo and Giulietta weren’t considered actually married because they never consummated and it didn’t happen on the cencio if it had. So for it to have been hidden in Julie’s bed after that weird secret ceremony with Alessandro, was interesting because they also weren’t really married. Not the way we think of now. It just shows that marriage isn’t defined by sex (which I think futher proves my point that this was never just about horny teenagers. As well as the entirety of this book), or by words. Marriage is defined by love and commitment.

And then there’s the River Diana. Another thing I haven’t quite landed on a full meaning for, but I know what it made me feel. It’s hard to put into words, but the first word that came to mind was literally symbolism. This story, this curse, killed Diana, Julie’s mother. And now Julie made it to the statue, and she found her Romeo and in the moment that she almost dies it’s by drowning in the River Diana. This whole time she was drowning in what her mother started for her and it’s Alessandro that pulls her out and saves her from it. Being with him is what keeps her alive, from being swept away by this curse the way her mother was. So maybe it’s symbolic of the end. Of not falling into the same pattern or being swept into the same current.

Plot Twists

This story never went where I thought it was going to go. I don’t actually want to talk about the plot twists too much because I want people reading this to be as surprised as I was. Not like I didn’t spoil things before but there are still quite a few things I didn’t mention that really fucked me up if I’m being honest.

If you’re a fan of plot twists, please read this book.

Ye Olde Slow as Hell Language

I don’t want to scare anyone off here - most of the book is in modern language and even the parts that take us back to 1300 aren’t that bad. But they are far more detailed and can sometimes just feel really slow. But all of the information is really important so I wouldn’t skip it. But the language and the flow of the story really slows things down in these parts and it’s what made me take so long to finish this book. Well that and the fact that I just wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I finished it too soon.

However, I will give the author credit for having parallel story lines set so far apart. She really pulled it off and made the entire thing just so magical. By the time they died, I didn’t want to leave that world. I wanted to stay and watch them be happy but then I got to go back to Julie and watch her get her happily ever after

Janet’s Character Development

Right off the bat we’re supposed to hate Janet. And we do. She’s awful and when she shows back up we kind of hate her even more because of what she’s been doing. I didn’t feel sorry for her in the slightest. Up until the last few chapters of the book, these twin sisters felt very estranged so to go from that to them being a fantastic duo that you root for was a twist I wasn’t ready for but whole heartedly welcomed. It was a nice change of pace to see a female character arc into a better person instead of someone who got increasingly bitter. Still not a huge fan of the character but she ended up being kind of important and at least it passed the Betchdel test, right?

In Conclusion

I think this might be my favorite book now. High recommend.

[livingmybestfictionallife]

I’m Your Huckleberry.

Anon Request: Some platonic Klaus x reader angst about Dave....ya

It had only been a matter of days since I’d last seen Klaus Hargreeves. The last I saw of him was as he gleefully traipsed out of rehab on the account of his father dying, but he didn’t seem bent out of shape about losing his old man. Shit, if I had to put his reaction into words, I’d say he was released more than anything. I’d met my date with destiny not too long after he did and entered the world clean again. Of course there was an itch--I don’t think there will ever NOT be an itch for a fix--but I’d pushed myself too far and was “lucky,” as the doctors put it, to be alive. Never once did those bastards step back and think whether or not I wanted to be here, but that’s a conversation for a different day--one where I didn’t watch the shell of the man I’d recently known to be Klaus Hargeeves stumble off a bus and smash a briefcase into smithereens. 

“Hey!” I shouted over the roar of street traffic and started to jog toward the lanky junkie I’d met over a year ago in the very rehab we’s just both been released from. I’d admit that I hadn’t expected the briefcase he was slamming on the ground to spontaneously combust, but I also had to admit that, when he and I were around one another, crazier, more unexplainable shit had gone down.

Catching up to him was a bitch and a half, but once I reached him as he crouched down in the alley beside the old umbrella factory--the one I remember he explained he grew up in--he was visibly different. The playful friend I’d made in rehab, the constant companion I knew I had after meeting once and fucking up my life with, the person who I trusted more information about my life with than my own family, was completely transformed. “Klaus?” I said softly as I approached the man crumpled on the ground before me. In all the times I’d visited him or come across his path in the past year, I’d never seen him wear such earthy and bland colors. If he wasn’t wearing black, he was wearing something colorfully popping in contrast to his normal apparel. This tattered looking military uniform was uncharacteristic for the person I’d come to know.

“Y/n?” I heard him ask as he peered over his arms, which barricaded all ability for him to see the world around him. Even if I couldn’t recognize him by his current state, I could recognize that defense mechanism in an instant. It was what he did when he was having a bad trip--he’d bury his face in his arms and cover his ears as best he could, even if it meant shoving his head between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said again, even softer this time. It took a while for Klaus to fully open up to me, but when he did, it was when we were both too fucking high to really realize the extent of what he’d said. I wouldn’t realize until later the trust he had in sharing what he had with me--the fact that he was one of the famous Umbrella Academy heroes and that his abilities, and his father’s treatment, had driven him to self-medicating--and he wouldn’t realize until later that telling me was probably the smartest thing his dumbass had done in a while. After suffering for so many years with crippling anxiety and having to learn to pull myself from the horrors in my head and into the world around me, bringing other people out of overpowering anxiety and panic is what he deemed my superpower to be. I pressed my thumbs into each of his palms as my hands grasped his so tightly, he had not choice but to latch on or lose himself to whatever images threatened his mind. “Is this blood?” I found myself asking him as I glanced down at our locked hands. If I hadn’t been tuned into his every movement, I would have missed the slight, apathetic and hopeless nod that caused a curled lock to fall into his face.

I tried to imagine him happier, to remember how he was the first time we’d shot up together. At that point we had known one another for about three months and sure he had an obviously tortured soul, but he at least had gleeful look in his eye as he stuck himself and knew he would further elongate his high.

“You’re what?” he’d gasped moments later in response to my trust in him as we reclined on a raggedy old couch I had gotten from a second-hand store to furnish my sad excuse of an apartment.

“Ace,” I replied defensively. “Gotta fucking problem?” I questioned in a rather teasing tone. I’d always tried to downplay explaining my sexuality, mostly because ever since I’d came out to myself and those I figured I’d cared enough about, I’d been treated as if I was making shit up.

“Sounds like you have a fucking problem,” he tried to tease only to straighten himself up and peer over at me. His voice dropped and his eyes gazed across my face. “That was shitty. Fuck! I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he hurried to say and lightly press his thumb to my jaw. “I think it’s badass you can be that true to yourself. How long have you known?”

“Always I suppose. The other kids were interested in learning about sex in health and shit and I was to eager to get the fuck out of there.”

“Well, I don’t want to be more insensitive than I have, but do you think you just haven’t met the right person? Guy, girl, anyone?” he’d asked.

“I’m not a prude or a virgin, Klaus,” I’d said back to him with a mix of anger and regret in my voice. It took a shit tone of chemically altering my pysche to trust myself enough to open up to people, and I didn’t want to deal with the consequences of trusting the wrong person. “I’ve tried, but I’ve never been into it. Anytime I’d convince myself enough to even be with someone, it felt forced and apathetic...even like I was being raped.” My admission had floated into the air from my mouth as quickly as the heroin had taken over my body, and I didn’t expect it to stick in Klaus’s head the way that admission had stuck in mine for years. I turned sightly to look at how he was looking at me. His large, hazel eyes seemed to envelope my soul and I couldn’t help tilting my check into the hand he had gently pressed along the side of my face.

“Strange how two people so fucking opposite can get along so well,” he sighed and slipped an arm around me.

“No shit,” I sighed, “what are you, if you don’t mind my asking. Gay, bi, pan? It doesn’t matter to me! I just want to use proper pronouns around you, especially if I’m going to be sharing my good shit with you!” He feigned a look of disbelief quickly followed by a laugh. "Come on, Klaus, I’ve known you for how long now? I’ve noticed you’re about as straight as a limp noodle.”

“If I’m a noodle I better be a fucking farfalle,” he laughed.

“Be whatever you want,” I sighed through a laugh in return.

“I’m thirty and I haven’t exactly figured it out yet. I’ve been with women, men, trans-women, trans-men. I’m defiantly on the spectrum though.”

“That’s not what that--Klaus, you’re too fucking high.” I’d groaned at his comment and tried to ignore the obvious confusion he had toward my reaction.

Back then I didn’t know that the mess of a man beside me would later become my truest and closest friend, but right now, that was the moment I held onto as I grasped his hands and pleaded for him to look me in the eyes. He was a stubborn ass when he wanted to be, but right now, he was broken and scared in a way I’d never seen in him before.

With a little force, I stood from my crouched position beside him, made sure his hands remained in mine, and pulled him up with me. One of his arms instinctively dropped around my shoulders and I slung one of mine around his back to hold onto his other hand. “Come on, Klaus,” I said while supporting some of his weight with my shoulders. I let his feet lead the way and remained a support system for him. He made a rigid path toward the old umbrella factory doors and I took a deep breath. 

My best friend needed me. That was my only focus. Not the lavish upbringing he had filled with luxuries and amenities he had that my family could have only dreamed existed, only Klaus. I’d managed to get his grimy, dirt covered, and bloodied self up a flight of stairs and moved alongside him as he made his way into a bathroom. He collapsed again on the floor of the bathroom and leaned his spine against the clawfoot tub that sat in the middle of the room.

“Klaus, talk to me,” I pleaded with him again.

“Just, just go away, (y/n),” he sighed heavily as he tried to shut the world out once more.

“Klaus, don’t push me away,” I stated while pulling myself next to him. I leaned forward on my knees, allowing the pain of having my bony joints sink into the hard floor.

“You-you can’t begin to understand what I feel,” he said again, this time in a harsher tone. He was defiant and angry, something I’d never seen from Klaus, especially not when it was aimed at me. I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but nothing came out. “You’ll never know what I’m feeling!” he burst. His body shook as he let out what seemed to be a last stitch gasp for life. His eyes were fierce and grim as his hands curled into fists and shook under the emotional stress he was under. “You’ve never loved someone to be broken when they’re gone!” His voice was only a few decibels over the broken whisper he’d spoken with in the alley, but it felt like a burning scream, a slap in the face...a dagger to the heart.

“You’re hurt. You don’t mean that,” I processed for him as he crumpled before me again.

“(Y/n), just...just go,” he sighed while trying to push my hands from his.

“Klaus,” I sighed, “you don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you dare push me away.”

“Just stop, (y/n)!” he said with tears falling from his eyes, making long, muddy streaks along his cheeks and down his neck. “Stop,” he sighed again hopelessly. “You don’t...you can’t...”

“What, love anyone?” I asked and looked at him with a catch-22 accusation. Not only could I see the initial, broken and empty look in his eyes that he had when he got off the bus, but he also looked like he was trying to force me into not caring about him--into being okay with abandoning him in his time of need to justify the fact that either no one cares about him or that life is hopeless and empty. “You’re my best fucking friend, Klaus. I do love you, more than I love myself, but that’s not news to you and you know it. It may not be the way you’re talking about, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t true! You know me, Klaus. You know somewhere behind the pain I have always, and will always be there for you. You’re my farfalle and I’m your huckleberry. Regardless of everything else, I love you, so when you’re ready, I’m here, and if you don’t want anything, I’ll still be here, because it hurts too much to know you’re in this much pain.” My hands continued to press around his tightly and I brought my eyes to look directly into his. He sighed hopelessly as his lips quivered, but his arms lurched forward and pulled me closer until I too was covered in dirt, grime, and blood. 

“Thank you, Huckleberry,” he whispered lightly through his pain and wrapped his arms around my neck, clinging to me like I was his last life line. I placed my hand at the base of his neck, much like he encouraged me to when pulling him out of a bad trip or a panic induced moment.

“Never a problem, Farfalle.”

[peanutbutterjelly-pie]

Nobody’s Fault But Mine

content: Castiel just should have listened. He seriously should have. But instead he found himself hypnotized by those beautiful green eyes and he totally missed the most important thing in the process.

Pairings: Dean/Castiel, minor Sam/Eileen

word count: 6.1k

[AO3]

It's on a cloudy Thursday morning when Castiel realizes that he got himself a serious crush on one of his regular patrons.

The whole thing was completely unplanned, of course. Castiel has about a thousand other things on his mind, with him opening his new bakery in a popular part of the town, being all proud and self-assured after having managed to survive the long months of bank issues and renovations that took way longer than expected, feeling all confident and happy when the first reactions on the opening day turned out be quite positive and people came back the next morning to get themselves a new fix.

It's been a very stressful few months and he's actually got no time for an obnoxious infatuation.

But since the day the green-eyed man walked through the door for the very first time Castiel's interest was piqued. He greeted Castiel with a dazzling smile, his beautiful eyes brimming, and somehow just two minutes later they found themselves in a exhilarating discussion about Vonnegut. Castiel totally forgot about the line getting longer and longer behind the man, so captivated by their interaction that it took one of his employees nudging his shoulder and calling his name quite loudly to train his attention back to the situation at hand.

Castiel flushed fiercely as he noticed the approximately twenty pairs of eyes staring at him and mumbles a hasty apology. The gorgeous man, however, just chuckled amused, winked at him and whispered, “I'll see you around, Castiel.”

Castiel blinked a few times before his gaze flickered to the leather bracelet on the guy's left wrist that said “SAM” in capital letters, rejoicing that destiny was making it easy for a change and was giving him that stunning man's name on a silver platter, before answering, “Until next time, Sam.”

He laughed, the sound so rich and beautiful that Castiel entirely missed what Sam said afterwards as he was waving and walking away.

For the rest of the morning Castiel was unable to concentrate on even the simplest tasks and eventually banned into the back office so he wouldn't destroy any equipment.

It only got worse when Sam showed up the next day.

And the day after that.

He indeed kept true to his words.

Every single morning, right before work, he drops by the bakery, distracting Castiel with his everything to a point of no return. Castiel finds himself knocking over cups and stumbling over his words and blushing more than he has ever blushed before in his entire life combined and it's the best part of his day.

So yes, when he eventually realizes, on that cloudy Thursday morning, that he might be a little bit smitten, he's not really surprised.

The more he learns about this man, the more besotted he becomes.

Sam is at least very keen to share. He always turns toward Castiel when he arrives, no matter who's standing behind the counter, and immediately begins to talk as though he wants to squeeze as much information (and learn even more) in their daily two-minute encounters.

He rambles about his job as a high school teacher, obviously highly fond of his kids although he tries to sound exasperated, about his friends and their weird hobbies (Castiel never knew what LARPing meant until now) and about anything else that comes to his mind. He's definitely a very interesting person to talk with – one week they're overly engrossed with J.K. Rowling and the political issues in her works before switching right back to Sam attempting to convince Castiel to share the recipe of his by now kind of famous pie (which apparently became the love of Sam's life, as he is always quick to explain).

More often than not Sam is accompanied by his brother, a mountain of a man with shaggy hair and a kind smile. Obviously they both have apartments close to each other right  around to corner and they meet up almost every morning to pick up some breakfast and coffee before going to work. It seems to be some kind of ritual they both cherish and Castiel finds it rather sweet, to be honest.

It's obvious that Sam's fairly proud of his “little” genius and although he's keeping his praise to a minimum to not make his brother uncomfortable, Sam's face says it all.

Their tight bond gets especially clear by Dean wearing the same leather bracelet on his wrist as his brother, saying “DEAN”. Apparently it had been a joined gift by someone important to them both and they decided long ago to keep it close, every single day.

Sam gets a bit emotional when he mentions the story to Castiel one day. He tries to tame it, even laughs and waves it off as though it's an old tale no one should pay too much attention to, and obviously keeps it vague and brief on purpose, but there is a light in his eyes he just can't hide.

It's all very moving and Castiel almost envies them their devotion. He doesn't have a special person in his life that would share such a small yet meaningful gesture with him.

Sam is indeed a very lucky man.

“Nah, I wouldn't go that far,” Sam counters when Castiel tells him so. “A lot of shit happened too. But I guess all in all my life's quite alright so far.”

“Well, my brother would laugh at me if I'd propose matching bracelets,” Castiel explains with a smile, imagining Gabriel falling off a chair roaring with laughter.

“Well, my stupid Sasquatch over there,” he nods at Dean who's checking something on his phone, completely ignoring them, “he didn't have much of a choice, didn't he? When Bobby gave those wristbands to us, he couldn't just say 'no' and leave it with that.”

However, there's a waver in Sam's voice, making it crystal clear that there's much more to the story than he'd heard so far. But Castiel doesn't mean to pry, so he simply smiles gently and says, “You may not believe me, but you are a lucky man.”

Sam studies him for a moment and eventually admits, “Maybe you're right. After all, a really awesome bakery just opened close to my place. I'd call that lucky indeed.”

Castiel chuckles. “If you say so.”

“And the nice owner is definitely a bonus, too.”

Sam freaking winks at him after that and Castiel can't control a way too obvious blush to save his life.

He's absolutely screwed.

Sam, though, just stares at him as though seeing Castiel all flustered is the best thing that ever happened to him.

“Perhaps I'm indeed a very lucky man.”

*  *  *  *  *

Life seems to be perfect for a change.

Castiel can't recall ever feeling so alive, so full of energy. Even the mere thought of seeing Sam, just for a few minutes, elates him in a way he never imagined.

And then, of course, everything goes to hell.

It starts when Jo places a cake order on a rainy Friday afternoon.

She's a friend of Sam and Dean's that had been dragged in by Sam one day and instantly returned the next one on her own account for “another round of those criminally delicious cinnamon rolls”. Since then she shows up regularly and always finds time to chat easily with Castiel for a moment.

“It needs to be a big cake,” she emphasizes. “Chocolate. Lots of chocolate.”

Castiel's lips curl upward. “I assume it's a special occasion?”

Jo nods enthusiastically. “Engagement,” she announces. “Sam finally popped the question. Took the moron long enough, in my opinion.”

Castiel freezes at those words and he simply gapes at Jo, desperately trying to find some coherent speech in his head. “Sam?” he eventually croaks.

He must have misheard, right?

Because there's no way that Sam would never have mentioned a significant other. That's usually something people tell each other, even if their meetings are fairly brief. At least when that specific partner important enough to marry them.

However, Jo crushes his hope just a moment later. “Yep,” she confirms, nodding enthusiastically and being rather oblivious to Castiel's shock. “Sam and Eileen are dating since the dawn of time. They're ridiculously cute together.” She looks up. “I guess you haven't met her yet?”

Castiel merely shakes his head, not trusting his voice.

Before his inner eye he sees freckles and a blinding smile and instead of the familiar joy Castiel feels a huge wave of disappointment.

Granted, he never got his hopes up in the first place because life can be cruel and unfair, but particularly in the last week he actually got the impression that Sam's interest in him wasn't purely platonic. Castiel isn't an expert on flirting and wooing, far from it, but according to his employees Hannah and Alfie Sam has been becoming less and less subtle for some time now. They both had assured Castiel that Sam's flirting game was strong.

But now …?

Apparently they all had been majorly wrong.

Castiel feels his heart plummet and it takes all his strength not to show it on the outside. Instead he forces a (probably very unconvincing) smile on his lips and says, “I'm glad to hear they're happy.”

“They sure as hell are,” Jo agrees, studying the pastries in the display intently and completely missing the waver in Castiel's voice. “Meant to be and all. Dean's thrilled too, you know. Excited to be the best man, that dork.”

She keeps on and on about the upcoming wedding and the beautiful couple, but everything is a blur to Castiel after that as he wallows quietly in his misery.

So much for the man of his dreams.

*  *  *  *  *

Sam shows up the next morning, right on schedule.

He beams brightly at Castiel, glowing like someone who has everything he ever wanted in his life, and Castiel can't even keep feeling sorry for himself when seeing Sam so gleeful.

He deserves all the happiness.

Even if that means that it will take a bit longer until Castiel finds his.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam says cheerfully. He started to use the shortened version of Castiel's name a while ago and Castiel found himself liking it, especially hearing it out of Sam's mouth. He's got a specific way of pronouncing his name that makes Castiel shiver all over.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel greets politely.

Sam laughs. “That never gets old, man.”

Castiel isn't exactly sure what he's referring to, but he refrains from asking. A lot of Sam's references are going straight over his head.

“I heard about the engagement,” he says instead, being fairly proud of himself for sounding somewhat mature and calm. “It's excellent news.”

“It's great, right?” Sam grins broadly. “I mean, it's long overdue, to be honest. And Eileen's seriously awesome, she's gonna be a perfect addition to our family.” He cocks his head to one side. “Okay, technically she's been part of the family for years, but now it'll be official. On paper and stuff.”

He indeed sounds overly excited and Castiel's heart melts at the sight.

“That's good,” he mutters. His chest constricts unpleasantly, his body apparently highly displeased with Castiel shoving down all his emotions rather violently, but at the same time watching Sam's beautiful smile radiating like this is the most amazing thing ever.

All in all it's very confusing.

“So … um, do you maybe have a minute?” Sam wonders, glancing at the short line of customers nearby that is currently served by Hannah. “If you're not too busy or something, of course …”

Castiel can't exactly be sure due to the bright light, but it seems like Sam's cheeks are tinging pink.

“Uh, yes,” Castiel agrees. At first he considers declining because he isn't exactly sure whether he'd be able to keep his feelings at bay for long in the man's presence, but Sam's stunning green eyes obviously have the power to make him throw caution to the wind. “I can spare a minute or two.”

“Great,” Sam answers, but he sounds surprisingly nervous all of a sudden. “There … well, there is something I wanted to ask you.”

Castiel steps a bit to the right so they would have a little bit of privacy. “What is it?”

Sam licks his lips, his gaze dropping to his feet. “Um … there's a movie festival this weekend. Not sure if you've heard of it. Lots of classics and stuff.” He takes a deep breath. “And I wonder if you wanna go there. Maybe. With … with me.”

Castiel raises his brows in confusion. That almost sounds like a date.

It actually sounds quite definitely like date.

For one, beautiful moment Castiel believes that he got it all wrong, that he misinterpreted Jo's words as much as Sam's and that there's an absolute logical explanation for all of this, that he's free to go to this festival with Sam, enjoy their joined time and perhaps kiss him when the night is over …

It seems wonderful.

And yet again, it's just a dream. Because he didn't misunderstand anything! There is no denying it – Sam is marrying someone named Eileen, obviously his girlfriend of many years now, and there is no place for a pining baker in between.

Sam obviously just wants to be nice. It's apparent he's enjoying his little talks with Castiel every morning and he's keen to turn this into a real friendship.

And it's sweet and thoughtful and Castiel finds himself recoiling.

He's not sure if he's ready for that yet. Yes, he would love to be friends with Sam because he's kind and funny and just the type of person everyone wants to have in their lives, one way or another, but Castiel knows that he has to get over this whole mess first before being able to accept Sam's offer.

Otherwise it would break his heart.

“Thank you for thinking of me,” Castiel says, his following smile not reaching his eyes. “But I'm afraid I have no time at the moment. Building a new business … it's …” He heaves a breath, feeling every single cell in his body protesting. “Maybe another time.”

Sam's expression slips for a split second, morphing into something so crestfallen that Castiel finds himself on the verge to take it all back immediately, his own emotions be damned, but just then Sam schools his features back and clears his throat.

“It's, uh, it's cool, man,” he shrugs it off, a watery smile on his lips. “I imagine it being very … time-consuming and stuff. Another time then.”

Castiel instantly wants to assure Sam that he's a wonderful man and he'd love to spend more time with him, that everyone should be lucky who considers him a friend – he wants to do about everything to never see that look on his face ever again –, but just as he opens his mouth, eager to let Sam know, Sam mumbles a quick “Bye” and walks out of the door before anyone's able to stop him.

*  *  *  *  *

After that their brief encounters turn quite stilted.

Sam still smiles at him as he ignores the other employees to get his order straight from Castiel, but it seems stiff like it takes all kinds of effort to maintain it. He offers a few anecdotes of his life, asks Castiel a few questions in return, though it's not the same anymore. There are no carefree laughs, no casual touches, no lingering looks. Instead he avoids Castiel's gaze more often than not before hastily saying his goodbyes and actually fleeing the bakery.

It's clear as crystal that he'd rather be anywhere else and only keeps up pretenses out of politeness.

Just a few days later he doesn't show his face at all anymore. It's only his brother Dean who walks in and orders some pastries and two coffees, making it fairly obvious that Sam isn't far behind, but doesn't want to interact with Castiel.

It stays that way for about a week.

Dean always stares at him as though he's desperate to say something, to meddle, and part of Castiel actually hopes he would really do so because he's dying to make things right again somehow and he's got no idea how to even start, but in the end Dean just keeps quiet on the matter.

It only changes when one day Dean shows up in the company of a young woman.

Dean and her have a short, apparently rather heated discussion in sign language, making it obvious that she's probably deaf or at least hearing-impaired, before she eventually focuses her gaze on Castiel and stride towards him, looking frighteningly determined.

“You're Castiel?” she asks and it almost sounds like a challenge.

Castiel figures that it's most likely not a wise move to cross this woman as he nods timidly.

“Eileen,” Dean pipes in, exasperated as he gets himself into her line of sight so she's able to see his lips movements. “We really shouldn't –”

“We really should,” she counters. “I'm sick of all the miserable moping.”

“Eileen,” Dean says once again, rubbing his face.

Meanwhile, Castiel fixes his eyes on Sam's fiancée. The whole time he wondered how she would be like and now he has to admit she's everything he imagined her to be. Beautiful and fierce and obviously not willing to take anyone's shit.

No wonder Sam is so excited to make her part of their family.

“I normally don't like to get involved,” Eileen states, her hard gaze focusing on Castiel. “I think that people should be capable of dealing with their own stuff. But that stupid moron is my future brother-in-law and somehow I care for him.”

Castiel furrows his brows, a bit puzzled by her choice of words, but before he's able to ask Dean leans forward and, after some encouragement by Eileen, wonders, “Why did you turn my brother down?”

Castiel finds himself speechless all of a sudden, just staring at those piercing pairs of eyes looking back at him.

“It's just … I've been here, all these weeks,” Dean continues. “You probably totally forgot that I even existed, but damn, I've seen it all. And I know you like that idiot. When he told me that he wanted to ask you out, I was so sure you would say yes.” He halts, sighing. “But then you didn't. And my brother was frigging devastated.”

Castiel always wondered how it would feel like to have his heart ripped out his chest.

Now he knows.

“I'm – I'm so sorry –”

“We didn't come here to accuse you,” Eileen is quick to add after glaring at Dean, most likely for his choice of words. “And we didn't come here to convince you to change your mind or something. We're fairly sure you had your reasons for saying no and we respect that. We don't wanna push you into anything you might regret only because you feel bad.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean agrees. “Sorry for making you think that. I seriously didn't wanna blame you or something. It's your decision after all.” He shuts his eyes for a moment, obviously collecting his thoughts. “But, you know, my idiot of a brother … he's got some bad experiences in the past and asking you out was a big step for him. And now he's telling himself that this all has been in his head. That he wanted it so bad he imagined you liking him. He's beating himself up over that and I just …”

“You care about him, that's fairly obvious,” Eileen cuts in, appearing like a woman who knows exactly what love looks like.

And Castiel flushes because this is Sam's fiancée after all.

“Please just tell him that,” Eileen pleads. “You don't have to take him up on his offer or even date him, but right now he thinks he made the whole thing up in his mind and I can't have seeing him that miserable. I kinda love him, you know?”

Yes, Castiel knows quite well.

And he's actually really grateful for that. Eileen seems to care about Sam's well-being a great deal. He deserves someone so special in his life.

“I … I don't want him to feel bad,” Castiel eventually says. “I'm really sorry. I didn't mean –”

“We know,” Dean interrupts, a soft smile on his lips. “Misunderstandings like that happen all the time. Deep down he probably knows that as well. He'd probably get over himself soon enough and realize that you like him just fine, but well, it's actually a time for celebration right now and I wanna see him happy again.”

Castiel nods. “I understand. I never meant to dampen your wedding mood.”

Eileen shrugs, smirking. “It's quite alright. You're cute. I can see why Dean took a shot asking you out on a date. I'd probably done the same.”

Dean snorts next to her. “Thank you, love.”

She pats his broad chest. “You're still my number one.”

Dean looks at her in way Castiel can only call besotted and he grows very bewildered very fast.

“I … I don't understand,” he stutters, glancing back and forth between them. Just now he notices that they're fingers are linked, probably since the moment they approached Castiel at the counter.

“What is it?” Eileen wonders.

“Jo …” Castiel's head is spinning. “She … she told me that you and Sam are getting married.”

Eileen nods. “And that's right.”

“So why …?” He looks at their joined hands and the way they standing far too close to each other and his confusion grows stronger and stronger.

He's totally missing something here.

Something fundamental.

And suddenly Eileen's eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God!” she exclaims. “I know that look!”

Dean flinches at her sudden outburst and stares at her in confusion. “What do you mean? What's happening?”

Just a moment later he receives a rather hard slap on his shoulder by Eileen. “Those stupid wristbands!” she says accusingly, pointing at the leather bracelet. “You're confusing people again.”

Dean wrinkles his giant forehead. “What?”

“Remember the first time we met?” Eileen asks. “And our date more or less right after that? The whole night I believed your name to be DEAN!”

Dean still seems highly puzzled by the events. “What does that have to do –?”

“I probably looked the same way Castiel is doing right now!” Eileen interrupts. “Super confused when you eventually told me stories about your brother Dean!”

Castiel is officially lost now. He has not a single clue what's going on.

“I don't understand …” he says once again, his voice shy now. He feels a headache coming his way as he attempts to entangle this cluster of confusing new information.

Dean, however, does finally seem able to catch on. His jaw goes slack as he looks at Eileen in shock.

“Oh no,” he whispers, shaking his head as if he can't believe it. “You're not saying …?”

Eileen nods determinedly. “I think so.”

Dean still doesn't appear convinced. He abruptly turns toward Castiel and asks urgently, “You do know that I am Sam, right?”

What?

“What?”

Castiel merely gapes, even incapable of blinking.

Now he's absolutely certain that he misheard.

Meanwhile, Eileen slams her palm onto the counter, making several of the patrons close by flinch in surprise, and bellows triumphantly, “I knew it!”

Dean – or Sam? – groans as he rubs his face. “Seriously? I can't believe that. All that moping and pining – for nothing?”

Castiel glances back and forth between them as they switch back to sign language, moving their hands way too fast for Castiel's limited skills he got himself in a ASL class years ago to understand. It's clear, however, that Eileen isn't happy with Sam's phrasing and wants to give him a piece of her mind.

And damn, is his name seriously Sam?

So does that mean …?

“Okay, what is going on?” Castiel cuts into their domestic dispute. “Can please someone explain?”

Eileen's expression is full of sympathy as she looks back at him. “It's actually a sweet story.”

And then she nudges the man beside her to continue.

Sam clears his throat – and God, his name is honestly Sam, right? – and raises his left arm so that the wristband is visible. “That's a gift from our friend Bobby. He's like a father to us since our own dad … well, he wasn't exactly a role model, y'know?” He halts briefly, making it obvious that this is still an emotional subject for him. “I don't remember exactly when Bobby gave it to us, to be honest. I think I was around fourteen at the time. I recall having a tough time in school back then, it wasn't really easy for a gangly teenager like me. And when Bobby gave us those bracelets on Christmas Day … well, Dean proposed to switch them. So I'd carry his name and he mine. And everytime someone would bother me, I'd have something to remind me that my big brother was with me.”

Well, Castiel has to agree with Eileen, this is definitely a very sweet story.

“There aren't any bullies annoying me anymore, but somehow I still kept Dean's name with me,” Sam explains. “And Dean never suggested to switch them back at some point in the past either. So it stayed that way.”

Castiel needs a moment to wrap his head around this new information. It sounds way too good to be true and for a second he wonders whether his mind is playing some tricks.

“But … I called you 'Dean' several times,” Castiel remembers eventually. “And your brother … if I was using the wrong names, why didn't you correct me right away?”

Sam looks sheepish. “We're just used to it, y'know? Friends and family and whatnot – they still think it hilarious to use the wrong names occasionally. Dean and I stopped going with it a long time ago. And somewhere along the way we kinda got used to react to both names.”

At first Castiel wants to argue that this doesn't explain why his brother obviously didn't figure it necessary to introduce himself properly to a stranger nonetheless, but then he brings their first meeting back to mind. How Castiel called him 'Sam' after spotting the wristband and how this gorgeous, stunning man said something in return which Castiel absolutely missed because he's been so blinded by the dazzling smile that his whole system shut down.

Obviously he'd been so dumbstruck he completely forgot to listen.

“So that means you are …?”

“Sam Winchester,” he answers with a wide grin. “Happiest man alive because he's engaged to this beautiful woman next to me!”

He drops a soft kiss onto Eileen's cheek which makes her chuckle and blush a little bit.

For an instant Castiel can't help thinking that they're most likely the cutest couple he's ever seen and he finds himself smiling warmly at their open affection, but just a moment later he recalls the urgent issue at hand.

“So your brother …?”

“Dean Winchester!” Sam practically beams now, sounding overly excited. “Totally single and really crazy about this guy who opened a bakery around the corner from where we live.”

Castiel feels heat crawling up his neck as both Sam and Eileen stare at him gleefully. “So the other day … when he asked me to that festival,” Castiel bites his bottom lips as everything slowly starts to fit together, “... he was asking me out? On a date?”

Sam and Eileen nod in unison.

“And I rejected him,” Castiel realizes. His heart drops as he recalls Dean's deeply disappointed face after Castiel declined his offer.

“And now I get why,” Sam says. “Knowing my brother he probably didn't use the word 'date' directly, am I right? I guess you thought he meant some kind of buddy night or whatever. And I can see how that didn't really appeal to you considering … well, considering they way you two always look at each other.”

He sounds teasing now. Fond.

And Castiel downright ignores it when he urges, “Where is Dean now?”

It feels right saying the name.  As if a floodgate opened up and showed him a whole new world behind it.

And it fits so much better than 'Sam'. Castiel always kind of thought that, but he never understood why.

Now he wonders whether his subconsciousness somehow knew the whole time that something was wrong.

“Dean's outside,” Sam jerks him out of his thoughts. “Waiting in the car.”

Castiel instantly rushes towards the door, but as he pushes it open he finds himself halting for a moment and announcing, “Congratulations on the engagement, by the way!”, before he continues in his mission, followed by Sam and Eileen's happy laughter.

Castiel spots the black Impala on the next parking lot right away. Dean told him so much about the car before that he probably would have been able to recognize it anywhere.

Castiel hastens over and notices Dean sitting behind the wheel, checking something on his phone and being completely oblivious to his surroundings. When Castiel knocks impatiently against the window, he startles hard and almost drops the device in his hands.

“Cas?” Dean asks, his voice muffled through the closed door. He stares at the man in utter surprise and for a minute even seems to forget that he's supposed to react somehow. Eventually though he remembers to open the door and climbs out of the car, his gaze never leaving Castiel.

“Your name is Dean!” Castiel blurts right into his face, feeling like a clumsy oaf but not giving a damn.

Because here he is – gorgeous, wonderful Dean – and Castiel can't help beaming at him, probably looking like a lunatic in the process.

Dean blinks a few times, clearly dumbstruck. “Um … yes?”

“Your. Name. is. Dean.” Castiel emphasizes every single word, sensing an elation running through his body he never felt before.

“Um, you're okay, Cas?” Dean asks, obviously concerned that Castiel lost his mind somewhere along the way. He even squeezes Castiel's wrist gently and studies him from top to bottom as though looking for clues for the other man's seemingly irrational behavior.

“I'm fine,” Castiel promises, grinning brightly. “I'm more than fine.”

Dean instinctively steps back a bit, most likely somewhat intimidated by Castiel's toothy grimace. “Uh … that's great?”

“Can I kiss you?” Castiel finds himself asking all of a sudden. He's fairly surprised by his own boldness, but can't bring himself to regret it.

Especially when he witnesses Dean's cheeks turning beet red immediately. “W-what?”

Castiel takes Dean's hand and brushes over that damned wristband which caused so much confusion. “I thought your name is Sam.”

Dean stares at him for a moment, apparently unsure what to say or what even to think about this weird situation. In the end he goes with, “What?”

“I've read the name on the bracelet,” Castiel explains. “And I assumed it's your name.”

Dean's eyes widen as he tries to wrap his mind around the other man's words. “But … but I told you then,” he counters. “That first time we met. You – you called me 'Sam' and I corrected you. Remember?”

Castiel chuckles softly. “No,” he confesses. “After you smiled at me, my brain stopped working. I can't recall anything you said.”

Dean hesitates. “Really?”

There is a small speck of hope glimmering in his eyes and it's the most beautiful thing.

“You have quite the effect on me, Dean,” Castiel admits. “Something like that never happened to me before. But you … you seem to be the exception.”

Dean still seems to have some trouble handling the situation. “So … so every time you called me 'Sam', you weren't actually joking?”

Castiel shakes his head. “No, I wasn't.”

Dean huffs a breathy laugh. “Well, I've gotta say, I really found it a bit strange after the fifth time, but –” He licks his lips anxiously. “So when you heard about the engagement …?”

Castiel nods. “I thought you were the one getting married,” he confirms. “I was seriously crushed when Jo told me about that.”

“You were, huh?”

“I mean, of course I was also happy for you or at least trying to be,” he continues, realizing he's babbling now, but unable to stop it. “Because you deserve all the happiness in the world and Jo told me that you and Eileen are the cutest couple. I mean, that Sam and Eileen are the cutest couple –”

Dean still seems to be a bit overwhelmed by the whole thing, but he chuckles anyway. “They are kinda gross.”

“And when you asked me to that festival … well, I figured you wanted to be friends,” Castiel rambles on. “Just friends. And I don't want to your friend.” He flinches instantly as he notices how that sounds. “I mean, of course I want to be your friend. Friendship is the most important basis for any kind of valuable relationship. But … at that point I merely had to get used to the idea of you being a soon-to-be-married man –“ He sighs. “It would have been too much to go to this festival with you, knowing there would be nothing else between us. Nothing else than friendship. So I said 'no' to protect my own, stupid heart. But I had no idea it would hurt you like that, I never meant –”

“It's okay,” Dean cuts in. “I guess … I see the bigger picture now.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Damn, Sammy told me the same thing happened with Eileen back then. Maybe we should really get rid off those dumb things, they're nothing but trouble.”

He glares at the wristband accusingly.

Castiel, however, lays his hand above it. “Please don't,” he says warmly. “It's a very sweet gesture.”

Dean smiles in response, his features so soft that Castiel can't help tracing them tenderly with his finger. Once again he seriously astounded by his own forwardness, but Dean leans into the touch straightaway, as if this is everything he has been waiting for.

And maybe it kinda is.

“You didn't answer my question,” Castiel whispers.

Dean's lips curl upwards. “The one about the kiss?”

“Yes.”

Instead of answering Dean's arms suddenly wrap around Castiel's waist and pull the other man closer. Castiel merely has time to make a sound that's part surprise and part approval before pliant lips cover his own and he finds himself in a world of bliss.

Castiel never knew that a kiss could feel this way. Dean's touch is soft and unhurried, yet so full of emotions. Castiel's toe curl inwards as he gives back as good as he's got and hopes that this would never end.

But of course eventually they have to pull back to get some air, though they don't go very far. Their noses are still touching and Castiel revels in the sight of Dean so radiant with joy.

“So …” Castiel chews his lower lip, feeling extremely pleased when Dean's eyes follow the motion with interest. “I guess that festival was a one weekend thing, right? But how about something else? A nice movie, some dinner?”

“Yes!” Dean agrees immediately. “Sometime soon.”

“Tonight?”

Dean chuckles amused. “It's gonna be torture to wait that long, but I'll have to manage somehow.”

Castiel can't do anything else but kiss the beautiful smile once more.

“Sorry for being so stupid,” he mumbles against Dean's skin. “I just should have listened.” He shakes his head in the face of his own foolishness. “I'm usually such a good listener. But you … you just make me –”

He groans in frustration and presses his forehead against Dean's temple. “I'm really sorry.”

Dean drags him closer. “I get it, Cas. I'm just so adorable I'm frying brains left and right.” He laughs quietly, his whole body shaking. “Though I'm really glad you listened now.”

“Me too,” Castiel agrees. “And you have Eileen to thank for that.”

Dean makes a humming noise. “That woman is way too good for my brother. He's one lucky bastard.”

Castiel nods. “He is.”

Dean keeps silent for a while after that, his fingers gently brushing over Castiel's spine and making him shiver in the process. It's easy, quiet and it feels so comfortable that Castiel barely knows what to do with himself. Something like that never happened to him before.

“But you know what?” Dean eventually picks up his voice again.

“What?”

Dean grins brightly. “I'm starting to think that I'm one lucky bastard myself now.”

Something warm presses within Castiel's chest as he smiles harder than he ever smiled before in his life. “I told you that weeks ago.”

Dean just laughs. “Yeah, you did. If you want you can tell me that every single day from now on.”

It sounds like a promise for a beautiful future, a future filled with happiness and so much potential, and Castiel simply nods and buries his face in Dean's neck, almost overwhelmed by all these feelings.

It seems wonderful and terrifying at the same time.

And Castiel can't wait to have it all.

[blacklister214]

Second Son Update: Guardian Felon

Another chapter of Second Son ready to go! Enjoy!

Liz had chosen to face Wing Yee's primary entrance when she'd taken her seat. She may not have been an official law enforcement agent yet, but it was good to practice the appropriate habits. Even without Quantico training, she had her concealed carry permit, and thanks to Sam, the know-how to use her personal weapon. In the unlikely event of a violent incident, for example a rampage shooter, she was well positioned to see it first and respond.

Liz sipped her tea, remembering the other lessons her ex-grifter father had imparted. It was ironic that the skills she absorbed at the conman's knee were the same skills government agents were expected to hone. Sam had trained her to be constantly be aware of her surroundings, and to observe the habits of people in her vicinity. He'd used to take her to places like this and they'd play games where she's have to name the number of people in the restaurant or the color shirt of the person sitting behind her. Those games were the reason she'd chosen to eat in, rather than simply picking up her order and heading home. She needed the distraction after the day she'd had. Something to focus on besides the memory of the woman who'd died in her arms. The woman she'd failed to save. Liz slammed the breaks on that thought. She would not allow herself to get sucked down in that pool of self-recrimination.

A new customer emerged from behind the brick wall and Liz felt an immense wave of gratitude. He a perfectly timed diversion from her mind's darker musings. She cut a piece of her garlic chicken, using only her peripheral vision and her initial first glance to compile her list of attributes. Lean, athletic build. Around six foot. Grey wool overcoat. Black suit jacket, with a white collared shirt underneath. Black suit pants. Black leather dress shoes. Short dark hair. Stubble. Handsome...and familiar. There was a tickle in her mind, telling Liz she had seen this man before.

She resisted the urge to lift her gaze. The whole point of the exercise was to observe without drawing attention. The server seated the man directly across from Liz, albeit a few tables down. At least she'd have the time to place him. Liz decided a casual glance wouldn't be cheating, not if it appeared natural. She raised her teacup to her lips, and gazing over the top, found herself unexpectedly making eye contact with her subject. He offered her the small, polite smile of stranger, before looking down at his menu, but it was enough for Liz to trigger a spark of recognition.

"You!" The words were out of Liz's mouth before she had the sense to censor them. The man looked up, his eyebrow raised, and glanced briefly over his shoulder. After verifying there was no one there, he turned back to Liz.

"I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" Liz stood and slowly walked toward the man's table. Yes, it was him. She knew that voice. She knew that slightly cocky smile. Frank. Bacon. A flipped kitchen table. A waiting room in a government building. Singing Destiny's Child in a grey Mustang.

"You used to work as an investigator in Omaha. You broke into my apartment once and made me breakfast?" The man blinked, tilted his head slightly, and then smiled.

"Elizabeth Scott. My apologies. You look different from when I last saw you." She supposed she would, given that in her teen years she favored dark tees, leather jackets, and blue jeans. These days her go to was blazers and blouse. She noticed she wasn't the only one to clean up her look.

"As do you. Nice suit." His outfit suggested young urban professional. Successful. His clothing was tailored, not off the rack. Not exactly how she would expect a PI to dress...unless he was undercover, looking to blend with a corporate world.

"Thanks. Care to join me? Unless you're running home to your boyfriend?" Liz found herself unsure how to respond. The invitation was unexpected. They weren't exactly old friends who had bumped into each. Their brief relationship, if it could be termed that, had been largely antagonistic. Well...maybe not so such at the tail end. He'd been surprisingly kind to her after she'd learned the truth about her parents. In hindsight she had to admit getting her that information on her birth family and getting rid of Frank had helped her enormously. God knew where she would have ended up if this man hadn't brought their crime spree to an abrupt conclusion.

"What makes you think I have a boyfriend?" A stall, yes, but it might help her determine the intentions of her potential dining companion.

He gestured back to her table, where Nik's To-Go box was sitting. "Most people don't order a secondary meal for themselves." It seemed Liz wasn't the only one making observations.

"I could have a roommate." She wasn't sure why she was arguing the point. Maybe it was the absolute assuredness with which the PI had made his pronouncement.

The server arrived, forcing Liz to take a step back as a bowl of steaming soup was placed before him. After thanking the woman, he turned his attention back to her.

"True, but I went with boyfriend." Instead of elaborating he picked up his spoon, and dipped it into the dish. Raising it to his lips, he blew gently on the broth.

"Because?"

"You're an only child raised by a single Dad. Living with a man is probably easier for you than living with another woman." Liz wished she could tell him to stick his assumption up his ass, but the sad truth was, he wasn't wrong. If college had taught her nothing else, it was that cohabiting with other women was more drama than she'd care to take.

"I am living with my boyfriend, but he's at work right now." She'd stated very clearly she was in a relationship, therefore she was in no danger of him interpreting her choice to join him as flirtation.

"Well I insist, then. You owe me a meal, after all." Now it was Liz's turn to raise her eyebrows.

"I do?"

"Yes. I cooked a delicious breakfast, and you flipped it all onto the floor. I didn't even get to finish my famous gluten-free pancakes." Liz couldn't suppress a giggle at the PI's exaggeratedly woeful expression.

"Fine." Liz turned back toward her table, but the man gestured at the chair across from him and stood.

"Please, allow me." As he passed her to retrieve her dishes, Liz couldn't help but notice he'd left his overcoat behind. It bulging ever so slightly at the pocket, suggesting an untended wallet. That type of thing that used to send a thrill of excitement through her. An easy score. It would be so easy to pluck it right out before he came back. Finally learn the name of PI she'd been unable to track down after he'd sped away eight years ago. Suddenly the man was back at her elbow, the window of opportunity closed. He deposited her meal before her, and set Nik's off to the side.

He settled back into his seat and smiled at her, "So...what do you do for work these days? Still boosting cars?" He shot her such a knowing look she had the fleeting, but frightening worry that the man had somehow read her mind. Well two could play at that game.

"Retired. How about you? Are you still breaking and entering into people's homes?"

"Only on very special occasions." His tone was playful, and if under oath she honestly wouldn't be able to say if the man teasing her. Liz wondered if that was deliberate, to avoid incriminating himself.

"If that really is the case I should inform you that anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." She dug out her wallet and flashed him her ID. It would have been hard to miss the large 'FBI' printed on it, and yet the PI looked distinctly unphased.

"Employed by the FBI? Interesting line of work for someone like you." Liz's enjoyment of their banter fizzled out immediately.

"You mean someone with my background?" She felt her anger slowly rising. How dare he judge based on the private things he knew about her biological family? It was especially galling coming from him, who insisted blood relationships meant nothing by themselves. She wasn't her genes. She wasn't those people in that file.

"No, I mean someone who, as a teenager, pulled off a four month crime spree without getting caught." Liz had to admit that was...fairer than she thought he was being. Her actions were on her...but still she'd been a kid. Lots of people were less than perfect when they were young. She'd straightened herself out, moved past it.

"You caught me. On film, as I recall." Of course he'd mailed the negatives to Sam about a week after she'd returned home. They'd burned them together along with the copies.

"Well, I'm exceptional."

"Humble too." He wasn't wrong though. Exceptional was an apt term for this man. He couldn't have been more than a few years older than she was when he'd managed to track her down, and bring her to heel. He'd gotten rid of Frank, and in such a way that had made her never want to see him again. He'd convinced a government employ to break policy. He'd demonstrated intelligence, resourcefulness, and a disregard for the law. Had he changed course as she had, or was he the same, just with a few more years of experience under his belt?

"How's your brother?" If she recalled correctly that had been a topic he'd been eager, or at least willing to discuss with her. Liz's recollection earned her, yet another smile from her dinner companion. This one was slightly different, not mocking, but warm. Genuine.

"Good. He came back from Africa unscathed. We both work for our foster father now, so I get to see him pretty regularly. How's your Dad?" Liz snorted thinking back to her last conversation with Sam. He'd management to sprain his ankle hopping off the tractor.

"Good. Still living in the farm house. Flatly refuses to sell it and retire. Says it would make him insane and that he has no interest in spending his days golfing or taking pottery classes." She shook her head. The man was stubborn as a mule.

"It's funny isn't it?" The PI has cocked his head to the side as though an odd thought had just struck him.

"What's funny?"

"Most people spend their whole lives waiting for retirement. Waiting for a time when they have no obligations, when they spend their days doing exactly what they want. For your father, though, that sounds like torture. Pure utter torture. I think it's funny that the things that give some people pleasure, for example your boyfriend's Kung Po Chicken over there, can be unspeakably awful to someone else." His eyes were oddly intense, locked on hers as he made his point. Was he trying to tell her something? Her eyes drifted over to the take-out box. Was that what was bothering him?

"If your nose is that sensitive, I'll put it away." Liz moved to picked up the box, but the PI waved her off with a laugh.

"That not necessary. My point is that what's injurious or unbearable to people is not one size fits all. Wouldn't you agree?" Liz shrugged. Certain things most people had an aversion to, but what was the worst varied. Some people hated bugs, others snakes, others heights. What some found to be torture…...torture…...torture…..

Liz's thoughts slowed to trickle, that one word on a loop. Drop. Drop. Drop. Torture. Torture. Torture. Suddenly her mind sped up ten times faster than before, visions of the victims flashing through her mind. The medicals reports. Different, all different. No pattern, unless the lack of pattern WAS the pattern. Individual. Not the same.

"Would you excuse me a moment?" She stood up and head toward the bathroom. After checking the stalls for occupantants, she pulled out her phone and selected a number from her contacts. After about six rings a familiar voice was in her ear.

"It's late Scott. What do you want?" His lack of enthusiasm was unsurprising. The fact she'd been called up from New York to join a DC task force had rubbed some of her new coworkers the wrong way. Colin Worth was one such individual. Unfortunately she knew he was also the person most likely to still be at the office at 6 pm.

"Colin. Great! I was hoping someone was still there." She needed to keep it friendly. Liz was going ask a favor, so it would help if she was nice to the jackass. She could do it. Really, she could.

"I was just grabbing my coat. I got some place I need to be tonight." Somehow Liz doubted that, but there was no point in calling the man on it.

"I just had theory about the case. We've tried to find connections between the victims and there was nothing. What if we look for a link between the victim and their injuries?" While talking to that PI something had jarred loose in her mind and she couldn't shake the feeling it was the key to the entire case.

"What are you talking about?" This wasn't good. Colin didn't sound at all interested in what she was saying. Liz had an instinct she was about thirty seconds away from being hung up on.

"There has to be a reason the killer's methods are so varied. What if he's tailoring them to the victims? What if they were injuries the victims had gotten before or maybe someone else they knew had gotten them before?" One size doesn't fit all. Wasn't that what the PI had said?

"Why would the killer do that?" Liz felt like throwing into the bathroom's tile wall. As far as she was aware this was the only theory any of them had come up with in the past month.

"I don't know!" Whoops, that hadn't exactly been calm or friendly. Liz took a deep breath. "Look Colin, I know it's late. I know this could be nothing. I know you think I'm a bitch. Honestly, you're probably right. If I could, I would head over there now and look into this myself, but I can't. I've been ordered to take a 48 hour leave. That psychopath is still out there, maybe choosing his next victim, so please, please look into this for me." There was a long pause at the other end of the line. Liz had started to think Colin had hung up when he voice once again came through.

"I'll call you back if it comes to anything." Then he hung up. No "Good idea!", no "Goodbye!" but it was enough. More than enough.

Liz walked back to the table feeling better than she had in month. There was a chance she'd done something right tonight. It felt good.

The good feeling stopped when she reached the table. No grey overcoat. No PI. Just her plate where she left it, across from a nearly full bowl of Wantong soup. Seeing her standing there, the server hurried over.

"Your friend got a call right after you left. He said it was a work emergency and he had to go. He paid for his food and yours. He said to say 'It had been a pleasure to see you again' and to 'give his regards to your father.'" Liz felt inexplicably let down. He'd vanished again, and she still didn't have clue who he was. She'd hadn't even managed to learn his name.

"I don't suppose he paid with his credit card did he?"

"No, cash." Of course. Liz dropped into her chair, a foul mood replacing her lighter one. Full circle. She dug into her chicken with renewed vigor. She was being ridiculous and she knew it. So what if the phantom PI had once again dropped off the face of the earth. He'd been there just long enough to have been an enormous help to her, just like he had been eight years ago. He was like her own personal guardian angel...That is if guardian angels did things like commit blackmail and B and E. So maybe not an angel. A felon. She raised her teacup in silent salute. To her guardian felon, whoever or wherever the hell he was.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Fate is a bitch (2) - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Well, originally this story wasn’t suppose to have a second part but tons of people asked me so, here’s a second part :-). I hope you will like it : 

FINISHED SERIES : PART 1

My master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

Destiny. 

You strongly believed in Destiny. 

No matter what people could say, how many arguments against it they had, and how much they were sceptic about it…it wouldn’t change your mind. You strongly believed in Destiny.

Because it was impossible only coincidences brought you were you were now…At your wedding with the famous Bruce Wayne. 

************

It all happened about four years ago, when your son, Billy, somehow ended up getting caught by the Justice League and you almost used your elemental powers on them and punched Superman and...it was kind of a mess. 

Basically, you ended up being part of the League. 

Which was something, for someone like you, who was from a poor neighborhood, who had so many struggles in life and who found a kid once, a kid who was living in an abandoned station of the subway (you don’t even remember what brought you there...well, Destiny obviously), a kid who changed your life, and that you just had to adopt. 

At barely 25 years old. Oh the struggles were no where near to end. 

Then you met that guy, that dark and broody guy who stood up for your son when everyone else wanted to “fire” him from the League because he was but a ten years old child.

And that always seemed to smile when you were in the vicinity, though according to everyone else, the Batman never smiled. It was weird right ? And you caught yourself more than once wishing he was smiling because you were there, but it was impossible. 

Sure you and him always seemed to be able to talk about anything without any restrain, like you felt you could tell him everything on your heart, and more often than not, he talked to you about his own troubles and fears...The Batman, talking to you about his troubles and fears ! But it was impossible.

Oh you fell for him pretty fast, and hard, so so hard...But you thought it as impossible. He was older, he was clearly a man with tons of issues that couldn’t hold a relationship (according to his Bruce Wayne persona), he was the goddamn Batman...It just couldn’t be ! 

And yet. Yet. Your sons set you up. Damian and Billy. They tricked you into coming to dinner to the Wayne Manor and...Then Bruce fucked everything up. He avoided you. He stopped talking to you..Because he was afraid to drag you into his dark life. 

But when you almost died, and stayed in a coma for three months. When he just had to take care of your son and make sure you were gonna be alright...He realized that, well, destiny. 

And that’s when things started to get crazy. 

************

All the media could talk about was that “mysterious woman” who seemed to have caught Bruce Wayne’s heart. 

You have no idea how, but they knew everything about you (which made you wonder why they called you “mysterious woman”...what the hell ?). They knew Bruce was twelve years older, they knew you already had a son, they knew you were almost poor (with an emphasis on this because of course you’re after the Wayne fortune !), they knew you were originally from Gotham but went to live elsewhere later, they knew;..they knew everything ! 

It was difficult at first, especially when all the questions you received were about how you were with the man you loved just for his money. After a while though, you got tired of it and started to answer things like : 

-Oh yeah. In fact, I tried every single billionaires in Gotham and in New Jersey in general, just to see who was the best, and well, I guess Bruce won. 

-What do you mean “tried” ? 

-Well, you know...Tried. How expensive the gifts they gave me were, how many times were we going on date nights, if they were really taking me to the best restaurants...Oh, and if they were decent in bed ! If they knew, for example, what the clitoris was you know ? Important things really. 

The look on the journalist’s face when you said that, and the panicky movements she made, the gestures to make the cameraman understand that he should film elsewhere. 

As soon as you said that though, you regretted it. Yeah sure most people would understand that you were being sarcastic and all, but there was definitely gonna be a percentages of people that were going to believe your words to be true. 

You didn’t care much, but you did care about Bruce’s reputation, and you were a bit mad at yourself that you probably just embarrassed him there...Oh he was totally going to realize that you were too immature for him and leave you. Damn you and your big mouth...Especially since those little outburst of annoyance were a recurrence with you...

************

You had nothing to worry about though. When you joined Bruce, a bit worried what he was going to say, he just smiled widely and said :

-Well I’m glad you set your eyes on me after...”trying” that many people. 

He winked, and wasn’t able to stop himself from laughing, because it was the first time he saw someone making a gotham’s journalist uncomfortable...usually, it was them who found the perfect words to make someone feel clumsy and embarrassed with their words ! 

With a loving kiss to your forehead he said : 

-You’re the best. 

And all worries about ever being an embarrassment for him were gone. You always cracked him up when you were being a sarcastic little shit, and more than once tv cameras got him bursting out in a genuine laughter after you talked back to a journalist that was asking you a too personal, or stupid question. There were even compilations on YouTube of you saying one of your famous punchline, and him just starting to laugh like crazy (you suspected Billy and Tim to make those video compilations). Oh, and memes too...

***********

Yes. Destiny. It was real, it couldn’t be otherwise. Almost four years after the League discovered you and your son, it was Destiny that brought you here, with Bruce, on a beautiful starry summer night, as he was taking you for a discreet date out. You believed in Fate more than ever. 

A hot dog at your favorite food truck in Gotham, wearing only casual clothes so no one would recognize you (and no one did, for most people, it was impossible that Bruce Wayne would go out in a plain t-shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers), a walk on the docks, which was your favorite place ever...And a knee on the floor. 

-Br...Bruce what are you doing ? 

-Hum. I...isn’t this how you’re suppose to do it ? I’m not sure I never done it before...and I don’t want to do it again after. 

You’re silent, as he takes a little box out of his cargo short’s pocket, take his cap off, and opens it in front of you...A ring. Not an extra fancy one. A white gold band with just a little diamond on it. Oh that man. He knew how expensive things always made you a bit awkward and uneasy. 

Not to say that this ring wasn’t expensive, but it was...Simple. 

Your heart stopped as he said : 

-(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...Will you marry me ? 

There was a few agonizing minutes of silence that almost drove Bruce crazy until you said, in a very weak voice, barely a whisper : 

-...Yes. Of course, of course I will. 

People around applause, unaware that they just witnessed the marriage proposal of the most famous persons in Gotham ! 

Bruce got on his feet and took you in his arms, crushing you on his strong chest, and all you could do is laugh stupidly. Laugh because you were so happy. You were about to say something, and to kiss him when : 

-YES YES YEEEEEEES !! Hey Dam...Robin, now we’re really brothers. 

You and Bruce turned around and glared at your son, fortunately, no one noticed the grown ass man and the kid, standing on a boat down the docks. No one noticed Shazam and Robin, just standing there, and cheering you up. Or rather, Billy was cheering, his arms slung around Damian, and Dams’ stayed stern and stoic. As usual. 

For a few seconds, you got scared that the one you came to call your son wasn’t happy that you’d marry his dad, but when he said : 

-Tt. Don’t be a fool Shazam...We already were brothers. 

It kinda melted both you and Bruce’s heart. And you could have sworn you saw tears in your boy’s eyes at his brother’s words. When Billy, still in his adult form, took Damian in his arms, you couldn’t help the little laugh escaping your lips as your little Dami’ was trying to not suffocate at the force of his brother’s hug.

************

And here you were, the day of your wedding, about to get hitch with the love of your life. 

It was a small and cute reception, only close friends and family. 

Alfred cried. Clark cried. Arthur and Hal cried. Barry cried. And Diana rolled her eyes at their over-sensitivness, though she had to admit, seeing the Bat and you getting married was very emotional. 

The amazon too, strongly believed in Destiny, and ever since she first saw you and Bruce interact, she just knew you were made for each other. 

She even asked her “half-sister” Aphrodite once, and when the goddess told her : “Oh I haven’t seen a love so pure and true since...Since ever, really”, she knew she was right. 

Your wedding was perfect. Your sons got really excited. 

Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian were the happiest boys ever, that Bruce found you, and that you always accepted them as your sons (ever since the beginning). Those last four years had been the happiest since a long time they had, and they really felt like they had a family. They were already all calling you “mom”, but this wedding...it made it all official. That morning, you had signed their adoption papers, and they now really were your kids. 

Billy too, was overly happy. Because now, he had the best mother ever...But also the most awesome father, and four amazing brothers ! Just like you accepted Bruce’s children as your own, Bruce had been nothing but great to Billy, and never did a difference between the five boys. They were his, and that was that. Billy sobbed like a baby in his dad’s arms when Bruce signed the official adoption papers...

Yes. That wedding was perfect. 

************

It was Billy’s seventeenth birthday, and you ended up having the best gift ever for him. You were just waiting for the best time to say it. 

Seventeen. You couldn’t believe that your baby boy was turning seventeen already. Damian had turned eighteen that year, and oh let’s not talk about Tim being already nineteen, almost twenty, Dick twenty four (the age you were when you and Bruce got together !) and Jason twenty two. It was too depressing for you to even thing about your kids growing up that fast.  

It was rare to be able to get all the family in one place. Five busy kids, your two oldest not living in the family nest anymore (you cried, when they moved into their own apartment, but their hugs and soothing words to you, the way they made sure you knew how much they loved you and how you’ll always be their mom, it made you feel better...just a bit). Tim still lived at Wayne Manor, and would until he was done with College...he was trying his hardest not to go crazy as his younger brothers made it a mission to annoy him. Oh but he loved those little buggers (that were not so little anymore), and would forgive them anything. Or rather, almost anything. 

As Alfred brings the cake in, and Billy jumps excitedly on his chair, you can’t help but smile, and snuggle against Bruce who was sitting next to you. 

He throws an arm around your shoulder, an brings you closer, smiling at his son as Billy blows on his candles. 

Damian spends the next few minutes trying to get his brother to say what his wish was, but no, Billy won’t say it because it means it won’t happen if he does ! But as each year, he ends up saying it anyway, and gets mad at himself because : “this is why none of my wishes ever happen !”. And this time, Damian seems to regret making him say it, because it was also something he wanted : 

-A little sister. 

The words made you stiffen in your husband’s arms, and at his worried look...yeah ok you had to say it : 

-Hum...Well...I don’t know about a little sister but...hum...I wanted to wait until after you opened your gifts but I guess now...Hum...

They all understand of course, but they want you to confirm it with your words. Well, scratch that, it seems like they all understand, but your husband. He pulled away from you slightly and looks at you, a mix of curiosity and hope in his eyes. 

You talked about having children of your own, though you never really tried because...Well, five teenage boys was a lot of work. And now...What were you saying ? 

Not looking at any of them, and especially not at Bruce, you blurted out : 

-I’m pregnant ! I’ve known since last week but thought that waiting for all of us to be here was best. I still don’t know what the gender is though and...

Your husband’s lips crashing on yours shut you up. 

Alfred lets out a high pitched scream and goes to literally tear away Bruce from you, and takes you in his arms. You respond to the hug, and the tears your adopted father let slides on your shoulder melt your heart. 

Dick jumps on his feet and is already blabbering about how he’ll teach him or her everything about gymnastic and how to be flawless and good looking at all time (oh that boy). Jason, after rolling his eyes at Dick, comes to hug you too (after Alfred finally lets go of you), and whispers a heartfelt “congratulations” in your hear. You hug him back, squeezing your now grown ass man of a son against your heart. 

Damian and Billy are...dancing a gig ? Billy because he won’t be the baby anymore (oh but he’ll always stay the baby, they all will), and Damian because...oh he was just so excited. The more the merrier. 

The only one that seemed a bit reluctant was Tim. And when you looked at him with a questioning look in his eyes, he simply says : 

-...I hope to god it’s a sister, I can’t deal with more boys right now. 

And the laugh that takes you over quickly spreads to your entire family. And of course, quickly after that, Tim reassures you, he’s also excited to have a new sibling. 

That night, you fall asleep in your Bruce’s arms, with his hand splayed protectively over your stomach. 

************

Your boys took a bet about the gender of the baby. Most bet on a boy, because...Well, they all wanted a sister, so of course they’d get a boy ! Bruce was sure it was a girl, so was Billy. 

Turned out, their guts were right, and when you told all of them that they were going to have a little sis’, the burst of joy that took over them was the best thing you ever saw. 

You felt a tint of jealousy for the little girl growing inside you...she was going to have the best brothers in the world, and an amazing father (who was already freaking out about so many things...Him and Alfred child proofed the entire mansion, and it was the most hilarious thing to see EVER). You grew up without a family and oh, you were just so glad that this little one you already loved to death was going to be lucky and have all the love you never had as a kid. 

************

Of course, there was NO WAY that, now that you were pregnant, your husband, your sons and even Alfred (especially Alfred) would let you go out on patrol, or on any missions. 

It was alright for you, you didn’t want to put your child in any danger...But as you approached the term and was full on pregnant, danger came to you. 

You were so tired lately, the baby was due for only a week after and oh this third trimester was hard on you. 

Your hormones had been playing tricks on you...Hell, this morning you cried because Billy asked you if you needed anything, and when Dick came by from Bludhaven to check on you, you bursted into tears in his arms, unable to stop. Your oldest son just held you in his arms and waited patiently for you to calm down and...the fact that he was so understanding made you cry again ! 

It wasn’t helping that Bruce, against his will, had so much work as Batman. Major world threat were acting up lately, and the League was busiest than ever...You wished you could fight by their side, make sure your family and friends were safe and all...

Yes, you just couldn’t wait for your daughter to come. 

Alfred was baking you your favorite cookies and making some tea when it happened. 

You were half-asleep on the couch, when you felt...Something was wrong. You didn’t had time to react, you didn’t had time to use your powers, you were too weak...The last thing you remember are masked men knocking you out. 

************

But of course. You were the famous (Y/N) Wayne. You were pregnant with Bruce Wayne’s child. Of course it was a great idea to kidnap you. 

How those guys went pass Wayne Manor’s security system was a mystery...that they explained to you. By hacking. They hacked into the system and annihilated it. Or rather, showed the cameras and such that everything was good. So they were smart...Because Tim was the one that set this security system up. 

Oh. Smart criminals. They were the worst. 

************

Alfred was frantic, and felt so so guilty. But Bruce reassured him, and didn’t allow himself to panic. He needed to keep his cool if he wanted to find you in one piece. 

He stayed cold and detached, as he was trying to get any clues. Oh those guys weren't amateurs, they planned all that, because the clues were few...but there. 

************

You started to feel the first contraction about an hour after the kidnapping. Your kidnappers were...strangely civil and nice. They didn’t tie you up or anything, they just wanted money. Though they did knock you out, one of them apologized as he gave you a pack of ice. 

And when your water broke, they slightly panicked. 

They didn't get any time to fully enter : “panic mode” though, as your husband and sons charged in. 

You almost felt bad for them and the severe beating they got. Almost, because you could feel your daughter wanting to come out and...Oh my god of course, she was a Wayne, she heard the fight and was resolute to come RIGHT NOW. 

When Bruce got to you, he freaked out. The baby was coming. And the nearest hospital was too far...

But that was not counting on Billy. He told them to join him afterward, and left flying, speeding through the sky.

************

Of course, all the media knew that (Y/N) Wayne arrived in Shazam’s arms to the hospital to give birth to a long awaited daughter in the hour you arrived. 

But also, Bruce made sure none of them could actually access the hospital. An army of private security was shielding the clinic’s doors, letting go only people who needed doctors in. 

A few journalists tried to sneak in, but the entire floor where you were had been privatized. Of course. Bruce did NOT want pictures of you and his daughter in the news the next day. The only pictures the media will get, was the one he would give them and that is it (because of course, a public figure such as Bruce Wayne kinda had to give said pictures...). 

Billy went to a closet when he got you there and was sure doctors were taking of you, and after a “SHAZAM !” he went back to his seventeen year old self, and waited patiently (but also very worried) for the rest of the family to arrive. 

************

When Bruce held her for the first time, he hadn’t been able to hold his tears. 

She was so tiny and perfect. 

She was so beautiful and precious. 

His little girl. His daughter. She wasn’t even three hours yet, and Bruce just knew he would give her the World if he had to. 

They all held her. A bit clumsy and afraid to hurt her. But whenever she was placed in their arms...Their eyes were shining with so much love that, yes, you knew your little girl would always be loved and protected.

Billy cried...Well, they all cried. Even Damian. 

A little sister. They had a little sister. 

You fell asleep that night, your daughter in a deep slumber in her cribs, your husband wrapped around you, and your sons asleep all around the hospital bedroom. Because you were the famous Waynes, your family was allowed to stay the night, and you needed them there, this was perfect. 

(Your daughter’s name) didn’t cry that morning, but she was already awake, making small sounds that woke your husband up. He unwrapped himself from you, and you were so tired that you didn’t even move. 

He looked around, Damian though he was now an huge eighteen year old, was slumped over Dick, Tim and Jason. They were all sitting on uncomfortable hospital chairs, asleep, their head on each others. Damian was laying across their laps, his legs, too long, falling at the end of the chairs in a mess. Billy, though he was also a rather large and tall teenager, was sleeping on his brother’s back, and Bruce couldn’t help but smile at the way all his sons seemed to always have to sleep close from each other in time of crisis and worries. 

But the crisis was avoided. The worries were gone. You were safe, and so was the baby...Well, Bruce was kidding himself if he thought that the worries were over. It was only starting, with his little girl about to start to grow up ! 

He walked to the crib and, there she was, eyes wide open, a tiny little bundle of curiosity...Already so curious, though she couldn’t really see anything. 

She reacted to his voice, and seemed to have decided already that her father’s voice would always be the thing that would soothe her the most. 

He took her in his arms, delicately, lovingly, tenderly, and with a small kiss on her forehead, he swore to her that he would always be there for her, that he would always be there...

-I love you so much already, my little one. I love you more than life itself. You’ll see, your brothers will too. They already are. And your mom...oh you lucky one, you have the most amazing mom ever, and I know she also already loves you so much...(Your daughter’s name), my child, my tiny baby girl, you are so loved, and though right now you’re too young to realize it, you’ll see one day. Welcome to the Wayne family, we’re not always the best, except for your mother and Alfred, but we’ll love you forever. 

Fin ?

__________________________

Are you disappointed ? You are disappointed aren’t you ? Oh my writing second parts to things always stress me out, cause what if it’s not good ? It’s probably not that great, I tried. ANYWAY. 

[caffeineivore]

Almost at the end, folks!

Dude, so I have been spewing this thing out. This is probably the most I’ve written in such a short time span in... well, quite a while. But sort of, strike while the iron is hot? Anyway, there’s just a bit of angst here. But... not to fret! This isn’t completely the end! 

Points to whoever recognizes the cameo :P :P :P

Title: Yuan Fen

Ship: R/J AU

Notes: Yuan Fen: Fateful coincidence; destiny which brings two people’s lives together at some point, often through astronomical odds. “It takes hundreds of rebirths to bring two persons to ride in the same boat; it takes a thousand eons to bring two persons to share the same pillow.” A concept related to karma in Chinese Buddism.

Yi lu shun feng: Roughly translates to “May your entire journey be in the direction the wind blows”-- wishing someone safe travels. 

Rating: PG/PG13

Rachel wakes up the next morning to the sensation of warm fingers carefully smoothing her hair out of her face, and then a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. She kisses back, sleepily, and when she finally blinks her eyes open, she sees John seated at the other side of the bed, already fully dressed. He smiles, and it’s almost the same cheeky grin that he’d always given her, except it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“I know your train is set to leave for Beijing at half-past eleven, which means that the driver will be here around nine to pick you up,” he says quietly, taking a step away from the bed. “You’ll want to grab a bite to eat before you leave; it’s a long train ride.”

He keeps his voice light, almost casual, and were it not for the expression in his eyes, Rachel might have thought that last night meant nothing to him. But it’s as though he’s determined not to make it any harder on either of them. They don’t have enough time to say all which needs to be said, and saying only part of it would only create a bigger wrench in... one hour, thirty-eight minutes, twenty-some-odd seconds. And she has just enough pride in herself to agree with that reasoning. He fiddles with his phone-- more to give her privacy as she climbs out of bed and gets dressed-- than because of any pressing engagements, and she goes through her usual morning routine by rote, meticulously brushing her hair and putting on makeup with the slow and steady movements of someone whose iron grip on control is so rigid that it might shatter with the slightest deviation from the norm. Never before has the build-up, layer after layer, felt so much like a flawless, brittle mask. 

Finally, she puts everything back into her cosmetics bag, and even as she’s carefully pulling the zipper tight, she watches, in quiet helplessness, as he comes up behind her, his reflection coming closer and closer until the warmth of his chest is right up against her ramrod-straight back. Rachel looks down, staring at the splashes of water still in the sink, because if she sees how perfectly, how naturally her body curves into his, she’ll end up doing something incredibly stupid-- like cry, or beg. 

“It takes hundreds of rebirths to bring two persons to ride in the same boat; it takes a thousand eons to bring two persons to share the same pillow.” His voice is muffled against her hair, and she manufactures a brave smile, standing perfectly still as he gives her hands one last, long squeeze before stepping back. “I have to believe that I’ll see you again, mei nü . Yi lu shun feng.” 

When he leaves, he shuts the door of the hotel room silently behind him. She’s not quite sure what his last words mean. But they’re not goodbye.

**

Rachel is not sure if John left his jacket behind on purpose, but when she discovers it still draped on the chair where she’d left it, she puts it on. It looks odd and out of place with the rest of her outfit and far too large, but she wears it for the entire train ride back to Beijing. And when, two days later, she steps into the first class cabin of Air China flight 8919, direct flight from Beijing to New York City, she’s wearing it over an old Columbia Law sweatshirt and her comfiest pair of jeans. It’s almost warm enough. Almost, but not quite. 

She has just finished stowing her handbag underneath the seat in front of her when the quiet sound of someone gently clearing their throat makes her look up, and she sees a smiling woman with a sleek bob of wheat-blonde hair standing beside her seat. “Excuse me, honey, I do believe my seat’s that window one next to yours,” the blonde drawls in a soft, Scarlett O’Hara southern accent. 

It’s not meant as a creepy term, you know. Didn’t you ever have friends from down south in America who call people honey or sweetie all the time?

Rachel’s breath lodges somewhere between her chest and throat and turns into something fiery-hot and the approximate size of a bowling ball, and even as the blonde looks at her quizzically, she can’t seem to force her limbs to move a single inch for several minutes. Certainly someone must notice the ball of fire caught in her throat, cutting off her air and hurting so much that she can’t quite stifle a gasp. Belatedly realizing that the other woman’s still waiting for her to move, she gets up, even though her legs feel like jelly, and lets the blonde pass through. 

One... two... three... four blinks, and there’s far too many people around for the luxury of dissolving into tears. She picks up the skymall catalogue and flips the pages without registering a single thing, hopelessly aware that her hands are shaking, but anything is better than having a very humiliating, very public breakdown. She estimates that it’s close to another hour before the plane would reach cruising altitude and the fasten seat belt signs would be turned off, and then, if by the grace of God the lavatory isn’t being commandeered by some frantic parent with a howling wet baby or...

She’ll go insane before then. She just knows it.

“My name is Ann,” the blonde southern lady’s voice cuts through her frantic thoughts, and she forces herself to dig through the tearing grief, forces herself to smile, though she’s certain it looks like nothing so much as a grimace. “What’s your name?”

“Rachel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sweetie.” Rachel can’t quite hide another flinch, and maybe the other woman picks up on it, because all of the sudden she makes a tutting noise, and lowers her voice to a whisper. “Awww. Whoever he is, he’s not worth it.”

“No,” Rachel’s hands clench so hard that her knuckles turn white and she feels her nails digging into her palms. The pain focuses her. “He is. He is.”

“Ahh, except when he is,” Ann something-or-another nods slowly. “Well, then, I know just the thing.” Without an ounce of shame, she hits the attendant call button even though half the crew are conducting the final cross-check, and beams a megawatt smile when one finally arrives. “Could we have two margaritas? One regular, one a double. Thanks!” She turns to Rachel and pats the latter’s clenched hand. “Why sit in first class if it’s not for the free booze, right? I do admit, I miss a good margarita. Where I live these days, they’re not exactly readily available.”

“What? You sound like you’re American,” Rachel knows the conversation for what it is-- an effort at distraction-- but for all that, she finds herself incredibly grateful for the other woman’s kindness. “Why wouldn’t you be able to have margaritas?”

“Oh, born and raised in the US of A, certainly,” Ann answers with a smile. “But I’m an expat, and I’ve spent the last three years in the UAE. Just went on a business trip to Beijing, and now I’m off to New York for a good friend’s wedding. Say, you’re from there, aren’t you? What are some good places to eat? I’m a food blogger. Obviously, there are the really famous ones that have waiting lists as long as my arm, but I’m thinking something a bit less... persnickety.”

So Rachel finds herself telling this stranger about all the little hole-in-the-wall places she’d eaten at and enjoyed in New York City over mediocre but quite-effective margaritas, and the pain, while still there, dulls from a stab to a throb. Ann talks quite at length about living as an expat, and that is enough to give her pause. Perhaps it’s the tequila. Perhaps it’s the company. Perhaps it’s her own almost-hidden vulnerability, or a combination of all three. But whatever it is, it’s enough for a germ of an idea to slowly enter her brain and begin to take root. 

[joie-university-rp]

Dear RACHEL BERRY,

It is with great pleasure we invite you admission to Joie University! Welcome to the Thunderclap family!

-

Congratulations, EMILY! Please be sure to check the New Members’ Checklist and send in your character’s account within 24 hours from now. We cannot wait to see all that you will bring to this roleplay! We love you already!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias; pronouns: Emily, she/hers

Age, Timezone: 27, EST

Activity, short explanation: 7-8/10 – my job situation is currently on the rocks, but when it gets back to normal, I usually work about 4 days a week. My activity can be constant, though, usually in the afternoon and in the evening! If I need time off for certain things, I can always give a heads up.

Ships: Rachel/Chemistry

Anti-Ships: Rachel/Forced

Triggers: RFP

Preferred photo for Character’s ID (please give a link): LINK HERE

Anything else: Thank you so much in advance for reading this over!

IC INFORMATION:

Full Name (First, Middle, Last): Rachel Barbra Berry ★

FC: Lea Michele

Age/Year at University (Freshman [1st Year], Sophomore, Junior, Senior, or Graduate Student): 21, Junior

Birth date (MONTH DAY, YEAR): December 18th, 1999

Hometown (please be sure to check the hometowns listed for characters your muse is related to!): Evanston, Chicago

Gender/Pronouns: She/Hers

Sexuality: Pansexual

Major(s): Theatre

Minor(s) [optional]: Music

Housing request (remember, only the president of a Greek Organization is required to live at a Greek House to be in it!): Pillsbury Dormitory

Extracurriculars (Click here for the list. Be sure to specify any executive board positions [i.e. president, secretary, etc.] If something isn’t listed, please put it here and we will add it to the masterlist!): Drama Club, Glee Club, LGBT+ Alliance

Greek Life Affiliation [optional] (Please be sure to specify any executive board positions [i.e. president, pledge educator, etc.] or if your character is not yet a member, but plans to rush): N/A.

CHARACTER PROFILE:

The second Rachel’s Dads found out about how talented she was, they spared no expense. Tap lessons, ballet lessons, voice lessons – Rachel received any sort of class and enrichment that would further her chances at success. She was very musically capable from a young age, and the more Rachel grew, the stronger that talent grew. Despite the fact that their town wasn’t much for fostering young people’s passion for the arts, the city was just a train ride away. There, in the depths of Chicago, was where Rachel got her first taste of local theatre. National tours came through, community productions lit up the stage, and Rachel wanted to be apart of it every chance she got. In fact, she nearly got a taste of professional stardom when casting calls went live for a National tour. However, her Dads decided she was too young to give up her education, and despite the fact that she knows they had her best interests in mind, part of her always resents them for holding her back from achieving her dreams.

The innate stress that Rachel was put under since the beginning of her life has given her anxiety in a variety of ways. The amount of attention she was given in terms of fostering and growing her talent makes her think that if she’s not constantly striving for the very best, she’s slacking and wasting not only her time, but the time of those around her. Without any real roadblock to tell her to slow down, Rachel can and will run herself into the ground with work. She never truly means to torpedo into a stress induced work cyclone, but her lack of interpersonal connections in grade school never enabled her to friendship. Therefore, her career will always come first, and her work ethic is the most important thing in her professional life. Other than her actual talent, of course.

When she was younger, Rachel sought the identity of her birth mother. Though her Dads discouraged any further research beyond what they wanted her to know, Rachel always felt like part of her life was missing. It’s past the time of what people think a traditional family can look like, but that didn’t pull away from the yearning that Rachel felt for her mother. However, her results didn’t lead to much of anything on her own, and Rachel was quick to dismiss the idea of ever finding out who her Mom was. Because of her lack of research, and because of her low self esteem, Rachel often makes up fantastical lies about the mysterious identity of her mother. She’ll never name drop anyone exclusively, but she’ll certainly hint and poke at specific people, hoping that the allure of possibly being related to someone who could be famous and successful will earn her favor with people higher up on the social hierarchy than herself.

Rachel’s constant boundary pushing is the result of being told she wasn’t good enough over and over again. Her family was loving, and fostered an amazing environment for her to succeed in. However, her peers weren’t always as kind. Her looks didn’t lend her to popularity in high school – in fact, any softness she had was cancelled out by her larger than life attitude. With the constant need to announce herself, and her talent, every time she entered a new room, Rachel kept people at an arm’s length away. Truthfully, she didn’t have many – or any – friends. A penchant for animals sweaters topped off with a brass attitude that most people didn’t give a second chance to has led to a very reclusive life. Maybe she’s over eager when she meets people she think could stand the Rachel Berry Friendship Test, but that eagerness can rub people the wrong way. And if those people can be a threat to Rachel, or her talent? They don’t last very long in her world.

As a budding Broadway starlet, Rachel’s eyes were set on New York City in a post-high school world. Though Julliard seemed the most practical, NYADA fell into her lap from the hands of her doe eyed guidance counselor. Months and months of planning went into her application – as the reigning president of over 16 school clubs, Rachel’s resume spoke for itself. Her talent, however, was another thing, and when her audition came, she knew she could finally, finally prove to someone that she was better than what everyone else said she was. However, when the moment came to actually show her stuff, she choked. The words got caught in her mouth – words to a song she’d been singing since she was three years old – and Rachel saw her future slip through her fingers. Weeks of phone calls and text messages and impromptu visits didn’t win her any favors with the admissions staff, and Rachel resigned herself to a place closer to home – a place that her Dads suggested.

While Joie isn’t exactly what she had in mind, Joie is something that she needed before attempting to take on the big city. Joie is about making connections, about developing your sense of self before you rush out into the real world head first. Rachel’s hoping to use their motto to enhance her own life before regrouping for a second chance at stardom. Along the way, she’s hoping to find new friends, to make connections and hopefully bring those connections with her. She’s never been one to stop and think about her actions, or think about the consequences that come with acting so suddenly and rashly. However, with a strong, supportive group of people around her who can understand the kind of attention she needs, Rachel knows (she has to know) that she can become more than what people expect her to be.

STUDENT CENSUS SURVEY:

(Please answer the following questions IN CHARACTER. Responses can be as long or short as you see fit!)

1. What made you want to attend Joie University?:

If I have to answer honestly and truthfully, my Dads are the entire reason why I’m at this school to begin with. At first, I have to admit that Joie wasn’t even on my radar. As someone who hails from the Midwest, my sights have been set on the East Coast since I was little. However, upon the… unfortunate way my past attempts at college have been, I can’t say I entirely regret the choice that was made for me. The way this school focuses so much of its energy onto creating deep, interpersonal relationships shows that there’s a place for me, somewhere, in this never ending landscape.

2. What are at least 3 positive or neutral and at least 3 negative traits that you believe you possess?

Positivity is something I believe I have in spades. Though it may not seem like I’ve got much to spare, I would certainly say my confidence speaks for itself. I don’t have traditional confidence in the sense that I believe in my looks, or I believe in my physical attraction. Neither of those things are ever going to be true about someone like me. However, what I have is confidence about my talent, and confidence in what I know I’m going to do one way. I can and will be gracing Broadway stages in just a matter of time, and no one else truly has to believe it other than myself. Additionally, my story is one of inspiration, and I truly think that I’m inspiring to those around me. Even through the trials and tribulations that most people face during their high school career, I’ve managed to rise above and seek out success. This includes the rarely talked about incident involving my NYADA audition. People don’t often talk about their failures, and when you’ve suffered a loss the way that I have, you have to come out the other side stronger, and more inspired than ever to do your very best. For me, that comes in the form of not giving up, and striving towards my destiny in New York City. The way that I think, and the way that I have to process things, makes me something of a dreamer. Truth be told, it’s not actually dreaming if you know those dreams are bound to come true. However, my work ethic and my strive to achieve greatness with everything that I do enables me to dream so big. It’s something my Dads have always admired about me, and their love and support of everything I want to do has truly enabled me to become the adult that I am today.

I don’t truly believe in negative traits being the things that derail us as humans. However, if I had to choose something that people don’t exactly admire about me – based on nothing more than personal experience – I suppose my ambition is something of a threat. As someone who’s only strength is the talent I was born with, I’m willing to go to absolute lengths in order to find the success I know I’m entitled to. Some people might find that off putting, and – in the midst of my strong passions – be inclined to call me selfish. While I can admit that I’ve made a few rash decisions based solely on my own needs and wants, I’m not entirely sure that being selfish is an inherently bad thing. Everyone is slightly selfish, correct? Therefore, it’s not just me who suffers from the stigma surrounding it. Because of this, and due to the way I’ve been treated my whole life by peers who are merely jealous of the things I’ve achieved, I’ve also been called defensive. However, I must remind you that my defensive nature is something that I’ve cultivated due to a lifetime of bullying and harassment from the public. They don’t like the way I look, I walk, I talk, I sound. The only thing I truly have going for me is my voice, and my talent. I cannot and will not be made to feel awful for believing so strongly in myself.

3. Which of your traits do you value most?

Though it may be naive to say it, my ambition is my strongest suit. I’ve worked incredibly hard my entire life to perfect and hone my craft. I’ve taken dance lessons, I’ve taken voice lessons, I’ve studied nearly every songbook that exists in the world. Broadway, Top 40, classics, jazz standards – I’ve got them all memorized. Being the best at what you do means putting in the work to make sure you are the best, regardless of what happens. My ambition, and my drive to constantly strive for nothing less than the best is what makes me the best. This is the kind of work ethic you need in order to survive in a cutthroat world of talent. The only difference between me being a girl that can sing very well and me being a star is the pure fact that I will do anything to earn my place on the Great White Way. Not many talented people can say that and have the proof to back it up. I can assure you that Rachel Berry does.

4. How can that trait benefit the University (or its student body) as a whole?

I think everyone can thrive from watching someone succeed at something they’re very good at. It doesn’t need to be repeated just how hard I’ve worked for everything that I’ve achieved. For some people, someone like me can be a little.. frightening to talk to head on. I’m aware that I’m a lot to handle, and I know for certain that I’m not always the best person in the entire world. However, spending time with someone like me could certainly inspire someone else to dream as big as I can. There’s truly no limit when you free your mind of these preconceived notions that you’re simply not good enough. Being excellent at something is the sole reason that I’ve gotten out of my hometown, and will continue to be the reason that I find success when I make my way to New York City. Teaching other people how to do the very same can certainly raise morale, and increase the chances of success throughout the student body.

5. What do you hope to gain from your experience at JU?

There’s a multitude of things I wish I could explain, and with only a certain amount of time to say it, I suppose I’ll have to keep things brief. First and foremost, the one thing I truly wish to seek more than anything else in the world is friendship. It might sound cliche for someone like me to crave one of the most basic things in a human’s life. However, I don’t think it needs explaining that someone like me didn’t have too many close and personal friends in high school. In fact, I don’t think I could ever truly call someone a good friend, outside of my choir director, my Dads, and the barista at the local coffee shop. Which is sad to say, when you’re nearly 21 years old. However, this school seems to thrive with the idea that building connections is the key to the future. Seeking out like minded people who have the same drives and passions that I do can surely help me achieve something as basic as friendship before I’m shipped off to the big city. Chicago is a big, lonely place when you don’t have any familiar faces to set your sights on. In a smaller pond, perhaps there’s a chance that someone won’t flee at the sight of me.

6. What is a quote or song lyric that describes you?

Though most people would expect me to say something from a Broadway classic, or even a Barbra Streisand standard, I have to admit that the song that tends to bring me comfort is from a songbook most people wouldn’t expect someone like me to enjoy. Though rock doesn’t always suit my needs the same way that show tunes do, Coldplay crafted an exceptionally wonderful song that encapsulates what it means to be stuck in a world that makes you wish you were somewhere else. When I was sad, I’d get a cup of water, and my Dads would play this at a very soft volume to soothe me back to sleep. In the trying times of my adulthood, I find it still gives me the same sense of comfort that it did when I was a child.

When she was just a girl she expected the world But it flew away from her reach So she ran away in her sleep and dreamed of Para-para-paradise, para-para-paradise, para-para-paradise Every time she closed her eyes

[itshaykuni]

ON HOW I FELL IN LOVE WITH READING

“Read. If you have finished reading something, read more.” This is what I used to hear when I was a little restless schoolgirl whose mind was full of vivid dreams and fantasies. For a child whose tiny brain was fully occupied by imaginary universes and characters, there was no space left for those created by someone else’s imagination. And since my eyes were always in search of something close to my imaginary worlds - colorful, engaging, breathtakingly adventurous - staring at the dull wooden white pages filled with nothing but black letters seemed to be a torture to me. 

On the other hand, I was the youngest in my family and in the circle of friends, and to be taken seriously, I had to gain authority and trust among them. So I was looking to be an excellent student and reach farther than my peers to establish my authority. And I knew - reading is something that brilliant kids do, whereas the weaker ones hate, so I have to do it as well. This would be a huge additional bonus on my way of getting praise and trust. 

This attitude was my first and biggest misconception about reading - doing it only to get praise and recognition, not delving into the mesmerizing new worlds yet undiscovered by me. And alongside this rather toxic attitude, I stumbled upon a serious problem in my elementary school years. Regardless of the fascinating speed, as claimed by my teachers, at which I could process any information I was given, I soon noticed a thing that started to worry me more with each passing year. I was always the last to finish reading something in my class. Reading one page took me 2 times more than my peers. My mother's first response to this was, naturally, that everything was fine, and my classmates were just too lazy to read every word of every sentence. That is why, she’d say, I could process information better than them - because I read everything thoroughly. Her explanation sounded convincing enough. It was only 15 years later that I came across the term ‘dyslexia’.

With time, I noticed that, after reading a couple of pages in a row, I was feeling physically tired, even though I was an eternal engine as a child. It felt like I had sprinted a couple of kilometers with my tiny legs. Dizziness, low levels of energy would play cruel tricks with my eyes and brain. With each passage, it was becoming harder for me to connect one word with another, sometimes I would spend a minute to see and read one word. Not that the letters jumped around as rabbits, just keeping the attention on the character deciphering was hard. And it sucked, I felt an extremely unpleasant discomfort. 

Physically painful and heavy - a human will do anything to avoid a task that has these two qualities, at least for as long as that human is at middle school. And if reading takes those qualities upon itself, adding even a grain of dullness to a text can instantaneously make finishing it impossible. Whatever our teachers assigned to read were particularly uninteresting - none of the stories about simple village boys and their grandfathers related to me - a girl who had never been in a rural community and, in her fantasies, was riding a green-scaled dragon over the mountain forests and exploring the seas with Sinbad on a longship with enormous sails. And the poems about our favorite Holy Mountain would literally drive me crazy. Literature classes mostly seemed bullshit to me, and I wasn’t sure if I was right or if I just couldn’t find and see and understand the beauty in those pieces.

At high school, I gave up on pleasing the grown-ups and getting out of my own skin to be an excellent student. Instead, I started to explore my own likes and dislikes, thus not feeling too obligated to read whatever we were assigned. Even though the authors and literary pieces we studied diversified a bit over time, I admitted one simple truth -  Armenian literature was not for me. So I started to give attention to stories that were able to capture my attention. Still, whatever interested me the most wasn’t translated into my native language, making reading way more difficult and even slower than usual, no matter how well I could comprehend the language. And as a top cherry, I was a dramatic teenager more interested in socializing, getting stories first-hand from real people rather than closing up in a room and staring at the pages of heavy books. 

As I was graduating from high school and applying to a bachelor's degree, I had to do a ton of obligatory reading, having left no time and desire to find something that would truly relate to me. Things started to slowly change by the variety of books offered on the internet and my improved skills in foreign languages. I had the opportunity to explore online libraries as a student, but still, no matter how deep I searched, none of my findings would really come close to my heart. And my reading speed just didn’t seem to improve with time, which was truly enraging me.

With my ‘Oh well, okay’ reaction to whatever I read, soon I thought I had to accept the fact that reading simply wasn’t enjoyable for me and come to terms with that once and for all. So, I abandoned my attempts of forcing myself to like reading and allowed myself the luxury to only read whatever I really wanted, whenever I wanted it and for as much as it was light and enjoyable. Instead, visual media is what I could swim in like a fish. As I fell in the addictive loop of mindlessly checking social media pages and quickly found my way out of it, I discovered invaluable resources on the way like TED Talks, online courses in history, art, psychology, design, photography, videography, journalism, and even literature. These platforms opened new galaxies for me. As I explored so many new topics, global social problems and authors, I soon started to figure out my taste in everything, literature as well.

Due to self-reflection that had grown roots during my high-school years and gradually increased over time, I realized something incredible. My emotional intelligence and non-verbal communication (especially analyzing and understanding the latter) had grown unbelievably. I surely knew it wasn’t only due to growing up, and not the “enormous” experience from communicating to different people. It was also the reading’s doing. I glanced back upon some of the authors I had read- Weber, Hesse, Palahniuk, Akutagawa, Mayne Reid, Christie and Doyle, Fitzgerald, Phillip Dick and many others. To be honest, very often the real value and meaning of the books I read would come to me much later after certain events had taken place in my life. No matter how slow I’d read, no matter how uninterested I was in the obligatory literature, no matter that over 15 years I hadn’t been able to find a book that I would actually like, literature had a great influence on shaping my personality, empathy and perception. That brought hope back to me - perhaps I wasn’t as pitiful as a literature person as I thought I was.

Soon I stumbled upon several books from reading which I received a marvelous experience. The first one was just a 300-page self-help book I purchased in Berlin. Even though it was way far from being a literary masterpiece, I was in need of those pieces of advice and reminders, so it only made a positive influence on me. What mattered the most, though, was the speed with which I finished the book - 10 days only, during travel! That was a personal record for me that raised my hopes a level higher - hopes that I’ll be able to read a book (with normal speed) and enjoy it like normal people do.

After that, I again abandoned my attempts to commit to reading. But one fine spring day when I was browsing my YouTube recommendations, I found a stunning documentary about the most impressive bookstores in the world. In it, the author Mas Joseph shares his anxiety about reading and his endless love for books and bookstores. Nothing could relate me more than this film. In fact, it relates to me to the point where I was crying over the sights of the enormous bookstores that exist to bring us millions of new worlds, realities, fantasies, ideas and invaluable information. “I just found my church,” I thought to myself, “bookstores should be the real churches, the real centers to connect to the higher powers of the universe, not the lifeless cathedrals that have nothing to offer but a stunning architecture. Bookstores contain all the wisdom of the world, and it’s worth it to spend our lives exploring those pieces of wisdom.”

I came across another book that I enjoyed reading from the first sentence to the last. It was a super-captivating detective story that developed around Istanbul’s cultural heritage - something I’ve had a great interest in recent years. But the book was rather heavy - almost 800 pages. And since I still wasn’t getting used to a high-speed committed reading, it took me about a year to finish it. I had abandoned the book a couple of times before, not because it wasn’t engaging enough but because I wasn’t able to commit to finishing it. But it was such a joy when I did, and realizing I had guessed the killers correctly from the very beginning really excited me. 

Being so inspired, I set my mind on making reading a daily habit and decided to go back to the most interesting books that I had abandoned and finish those as well. As a result, I read 30-90 minutes every day, finished 3 books in a month and even fell in love with one of them - “The Last Wish” by Andrzej Sapkowski, a collection of short stories about Geralt of Rivia, the famous Witcher that instantly captures gamers’ hearts. The obsession with the Witcher universe and my excitement of improving reading skills brought me a new challenge - to commit to reading all the books of the series. Currently, I’m on the 2nd tome, “Sword of Destiny”, and I’m totally loving it! The book is with me wherever I go, despite the heaviness of my bag. 

Nothing can be compared to stare at the dull black characters written on the yellowish pages and hallucinate like you’ve swallowed a mushroom. The more I read, the faster my reading rate gets, and my imagination enhances, giving me a wider variety of colors, perspectives, patterns and settings to explore the story in. Reading is not about getting acquainted with the story and learning what happened eventually. And by no means, it is about getting recognition and appraisal. It’s an experience that fully activates my brain, and when I say fully, I mean it. I can hear each character’s voice, the subtle trembles of their speech, see the goosebumps when the wind softly runs over their skins, I can smell the stinking corpse or taste the delicious freshly-baked cheese-pie in the noisy inn where Slavic traditional music is playing. I can see the subtle mimics when characters flirt, and how they cross their legs, and how a person not related to their story is silently watching them from the corner. 

Only now I can genuinely believe the famous quote by George RR Martin: 

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.”

[coffeebooksorme]

THE BLACK WITCH REVIEW

GOODREADS REVIEW: Elloren Gardner is the granddaughter of the last prophesied Black Witch, Carnissa Gardner, who drove back the enemy forces and saved the Gardnerian people during the Realm War. But while she is the absolute spitting image of her famous grandmother, Elloren is utterly devoid of power in a society that prizes magical ability above all else. When she is granted the opportunity to pursue her lifelong dream of becoming an apothecary, Elloren joins her brothers at the prestigious Verpax University to embrace a destiny of her own, free from the shadow of her grandmother’s legacy. But she soon realizes that the university, which admits all manner of people—including the fire-wielding, winged Icarals, the sworn enemies of all Gardnerians—is a treacherous place for the granddaughter of the Black Witch. As evil looms on the horizon and the pressure to live up to her heritage builds, everything Elloren thought she knew will be challenged and torn away. Her best hope of survival may be among the most unlikely band of misfits…if only she can find the courage to trust those she’s been taught to hate and fear.

I have to preface this by saying that I was not originally interested in reading this book. I have to admit, the original backlash brought forth by that review definitely put off even wanting anything to do with this book, and then I joined book twitter. I noticed quite a lot of people defending the book (specifically POC & marginalized people) and was intrigued. So I went to GR to read some reviews and after I scrolled through all the 1 star reviews from folks who hadn’t even read the book, I found some decent reviews from folks who had. Interest piqued, I decided to pick up a copy and give it a shot.

I’m also quite apprehensive about even posting this review because I’ve seen the vitriol and hate slung at people on Goodreads over this book. I’m more than willing to engage in discussion with anyone that would like to discuss this book, but I will only do so in a mature fashion. I’m not going to get into a screaming or name calling match with anyone.

First off, the accusation of racism/sexism is absolutely correct. This book contains a lot of racism/sexism in it, sometimes too heavy handed for me, but I think that was the point. IMO, the author was trying to show us readers just what kind of vile and horrendous world that our MC & friends live in. And it worked. Think the end of Harry Potter 6 with the beginning of Harry Potter 7. Umbridge pushing Hitler like propaganda about wizard purity and ‘testing’ for genetic purity of wizards. Anyone not of purebloo are rounded up and imprisoned. ‘Mudbloods’ being tortured by Voldemort. Racial slurs thrown around like a baseball. All that happened in the HP world, but it was to show just how vile and horrible the world would be if Voldemort was in charge.That’s the world Elloren is in in ‘The Black Witch’. Now let’s add some religion onto the story. All the racism, segregation, and hatred are stemmed from religious beliefs, and the Gardnerians are religiously indoctrinated from birth to believe this racist baloney. Religion is prevalent in every aspect of their culture; their dress, their patriarchal society, the way they marry, to even the way they eat a dang cookie! They are religiously brainwashed to believe that their almighty ‘God’ created them to be the ‘special’ people, the most important, the greatest above all, etc. As a matter of fact, each race has their own version of this ideal within their own religions. Now, imagine a member of the FDLS (Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) is moved from their home to, let’s say, New York City, San Francisco or, even, Detroit. It’s going to be one HECK of a culture shock for them because they’ve lived a very secluded life with heavy religious influence. They’ve been brainwashed from a young age to believe certain things. They’re ignorant, yes. But not willfully ignorant, IMO, because they don’t know any better. The culture shock alone is going to be enough to make them recoil, especially considering they’ve been raised in a religion that demonizes anything that isn’t part of their group. Now add in them being brutally attacked upon arriving to their new city. That will certainly reinforce whatever preconceived notions they have from their religious indoctrination. That is Elloren in this story. She was raised in a heavy religious society to believe certain things. Not only that but she was hidden away at the edge of the country in a small town with barely any outsiders. Moving from Halifax to Verpax was one hell of a culture shock. She’s our sheltered FDLS member that’s been taken from her small town home and thrust into a bustling university in a major city. She was brutally attacked before arriving at University so the fear is only encouraged. Upon arrival, again, she is brutally attacked, verbally assaulted, and threatened with future physical abuse. This attack was completely unprovoked, mind you. It happened because she is part of another race. She’s constantly judged because she looks exactly like her grandmother (who, upon research, Elloren finds out was a brutal person who committed genocide against people), and she falls in with the wrong crowd by becoming so smitten with Lukas (the first male to show her any romantic attention, btw), who, in her mind, is her only protector from all the bullying, violent attacks, and threats. Because Elloren is scared, she reacts badly. Badly is an understatement because she feeds into the racism and hatred. Rather than turning the other cheek to attacks and verbal abuse, Elloren reacts in kind and throws back racial slurs, runs to Lukas who in turn commits atrocious, racially spurred actions on her behalf, and she even commits a few herself because as Lukas teaches her, ‘Dominate or be dominated’. Does this justify her actions? Absolutely not. Under no circumstances are her actions or words justified. But I can understand why she reacts this way. Fear is one hell of a motivator and when that’s combined with religious indoctrination, it’s a dangerous thing. I think that was the whole point the author was trying to make. Was it done in the best way possible? Probably not. But as a first time author, I think she did a pretty decent job. The whole story is about how Elloren is submerged in this racist, sexist, homophobic society and how she overcomes these notions to form her own opinions by interacting with the other races, researching the history instead of blindly believing what’s been presented to her her whole life, and eventually, fighting back against the inequality because she wants a better place not only for herself but her brothers and her friends as well. Sure, some of her old racist habits come through every now and again, but habits die hard, especially those that were indoctrinated into you from birth. She’s trying. Obviously, POC are going to be very uncomfortable reading a story that shoves racism down their throat for the first half of the book. If I read a book with fatphobia for the first 3/4 book, I’d be uncomfortable as well. I get the reluctance and the flat out refusal to read a book that would make you uncomfortable. If you don’t want to read it then that is absolutely your prerogative and I do not blame you one bit. I do not agree, however, with calling the author or it’s readers racist POS and white supremacists that support a racist narrative. That’s flat out condescending and erroneous. If you’d read the book rather than someone’s subjective review, you’d see how the story is about a girl overcoming the indoctrination of her racist society. People also seem to have a problem with this being a ‘white savior’ book. I can see where people think that, but I do respectfully disagree with that point. I understand why people are upset because it’s like ‘Oh god, another story about a white person saving the day’, but that’s the whole premise of the story. That’s the whole point behind a lot of ‘chosen one’ stories. HP was a ‘chosen one saves the day’ story about a white boy fighting a racist POS villain at the root of it’s story. The Hunger Games was a story about a white girl saving the day for the poor folks. Divergent is about a white chick saving the day from oppressors. If you look at any ‘chosen one’ stories, it’s about someone saving a marginalized group. Is the YA community saturated with that trope? Yes, absolutely. Is ‘The Black Witch’ racist for using that trope as well? Absolutely not. I really enjoyed this story. I laughed. I was upset. I was deeply uncomfortable at times. It’s one of the first YA stories that has really made me stop and think about things. It’s unfortunate that it’s gotten a bad rap because of one persons opinion, and even more unfortunate that the mob/herd mentality has vilified readers who have enjoyed it. I implore anyone who has even thought about reading this book to give it a shot, read with an open mind, and realize that this book was never intended to be a fluff, easy read.

[apkrich-blog]

Episode MOD Apk Download + Unlimited GEMS + Passes Unlocked

New Post has been published on https://www.apkrich.com/episode-mod-apk-download-unlimited-gems-passes-unlocked/

Episode MOD Apk Download + Unlimited GEMS + Passes Unlocked

Episode – Choose Your Story is a very popular game for Android devices. This is a Simulation game which lets you LIVE your stories with love, romance, adventure, and drama. It is amazing if you were a character in your favorite story and do what you want to be. This Simulation game lets you do just that with over 100,000 gripping stories, where you make choices that matter and what you want to do. This mod version has unlimited gems and passes. It has also huge money and unlocked all features; that makes you more comfortable and easier than before. Download this app and install.

Episode Latest Version Features

Write Your Own Story:

This game features billions of reads, which is the world’s largest collection of interactive stories where YOU choose your destiny.

You can easily customize your avatar, design your outfit and develop relationships with your favorite characters.

Opportunity to change fate through your choices and discover all of the different endings

You can also write your own story and also read your favorite stories.

LOVE LIFE:

The amazing part is LOVE LIFE. It’s your wild romance in NEW YORK CITY!

You can flirt, scheme, and party your way to true love in this NYC sizzling romance where YOU call all the shots. It’s time to make your dreams come true!

BABY PROJECT:

There is a mysterious new *HOT* student for Riverside High’s “Baby Project” where the drama will leave you breathless.

In the game, you’re at Barden University and it’s your time to shine.

Download Episode – Choose Your Story Updated Version Free

Episode is a game where your dreams are going to be real. You can famous, superstar or many things what you want to in your real life. Here are some user reviews:

Nevaeh Gonzalez: if there were 10 stars, I’d give all 10. This game is just very addictive and I play it when I need some alone time to get relaxed and happy. This game has the most intriguing stories and I’m excited to finish my personal favorite, “Friends or Lovers”. I’m also very excited to see what stories I come across in the Future. 10/10 I love this game.

Isabella Morin: This is a really great app, I enjoy playing, however, the gems and passes are a bit annoying and take forever to build up. you would have to watch 20 chapters to get enough gems to make ONE decision. Clearly you want people to buy gems, but evidently, from the censoring of swears, (and even censoring the word kiss!) this app is meant for basically anyone who can read- including small children. I just think the gems and passes are unnecessary and overpriced, to say the least.

A Google user: This is really fun! The animations are cool, and it’s good that even if I don’t choose the diamond options, I still get a good ending(but it’s not the same for all stories). However, I wish we could reread chapters from stories that are incomplete. Because certain stories are not fully released, we can only wait to read the new chapter, but it’ll be great if previous chapters were made available to read as well. :’) That would be awesome, cuz the stories are awesome. Hahaha.

Amy Areias: I think this app is very entertaining if you’re bored and have nothing to do. the only reason I didn’t give it 5 stars is that after a while of playing the app, I was getting a little annoyed by having to have a certain amount of gems to make the “good” choice highlighted in gold. I rarely have enough gems to make those choices and end up having to pick the basic one. I would just enjoy if we didn’t have to have gems to pick the more fun choice so we could experience it 🙂 thank you!

HAY Channel: Great App! But I do have a suggestion; What if the person who is a girl can experience playing EPISODE as a boy and for the boys is the other way around as a girl. And one more is that in starting a character in EPISODE should not always start as a Girl, But also start as a Boy. 🙂 Hope you please read this and reply on my feedback. Thank you!!! 🙂 😛

Amanda Hyde: I really enjoy creating the characters at the beginning and the storyline. So many options! The dialog is very interesting and even makes me laugh sometimes. Very thought through. The ONLY problem I have, and its a big one for me, is the demand/necessity for buying “diamonds” in order to proceed the story in the direction you desire or in a more interesting manner. If you don’t buy, you automatically fail! no medium option that is still good, but not the best. Could you please make a third option

That One: It’s a good app with a great concept. The graphics are great, the stories are well thought out. The only problem I have with it is that every single chapter you have to pay 20 gems in order to get the best option which isn’t fair. There are several things per chapter like this too. If I’m JUST starting out a story, how am I going to have 20 gems on me? I’m not spending money on gems when I would need like 200 gems just to complete a story with all the best options.

Victoria Roluga: This game is very good. It has a bunch of entertaining stories. If you want a story where you don’t have to pay for gems, you should read stories that are made by writers then you can read them without having to use any gems. Stories I recommend is: Rising Star, Bad Girl Boss, My Alien Lover, Golden Girl, Strange Chemistry, Galactic Games, Best Mistake (It’s ink but It’s so worth it) and A Little More Me. there probably a lot more stories I didn’t mention but these are just some favorites, enjoy.

faithxo xo: I really like this game. There are loads of good stories and they are actually interesting. Although you do have to pay money for gems and extra passes unless you can watch a video which is the only bad thing. EDIT: I have been getting a glitch where I click to read an episode and It will play the first add then completely close down the game. I have tried this all day and it is still not working.

Vintrel Tolbert: I enjoy the stories… They’re really fun. I just wish there were a one-time free gem retrieval for joining. it doesn’t have to be much but at least enough to make the first choice. That would keep me interested in the app and make me more inclined to make future purchases. If I’m forced to spend money out of the gate then I may feel like it’s just not worth it.

Ashley Patrone: My absolute favorite story game. I love that they have gem games and games you can play that you don’t have to use gem choices. I do wish with the gem games, that the gem choices cost fewer gems id be more inclined to select that option more. But all in all its amazing I’ve gone through a few other apps before I found this one. Oh and you get multiple tickets at a time, other story games I have only give one per hour and that sucks. So yeah.💖

Lucie Hertstein: I love playing the game and having the choice to be someone else and being able to make crazy decisions and having them always turn out good (most of the time) but I don’t like not being able to make certain decisions because I don’t have enough diamonds, I think they should give them away more frequently and have people start off with a certain amount.

Isanna Saxon: best best game in my entire life I’ve looked for many games this one is the one that I will know that I am obsessed with I highly very highly recommend playing this game it is so fun and this game has love romance and it’s just so good that I will never put it down ever…

Ringo: I really love this game! My favorite right now is “Love life” Although I have to admit.. The diamond paths are too demanding if I choose the free path the characters just make you regret choosing it making you spend money to buy the diamonds.. Me and some users on an episode would be happy if you’d increase the diamonds you give per episode! At least minimum of 15 diamonds :/

Abagail Williams: The absolute best story/ reading game out there!!! The stories are amazing! could not ask for a better game! The demands are a little expensive but they are worth it if your reading a story you love, The best part is if your reading a community story you don’t need demands, you can choose your ending!

Alex Brown: I play it before bed. it is a great transition for my mind. I work in mental health and my mind can’t slow down after a full day. this app has helped me refocus my thoughts to imaginary conflict and plot twists that are much more controllable than the real ones I work with on a daily basis.

Armando Lopez: this is an amazing app! amazing stories to read from. also, you can write your own story, how cool!! but the only thing that is very difficult and frustrating, is probably the gems and passes. you don’t get enough passes, plus you have to wait a lot of hours to just get 2 more passes. also the gems, you should update to where we start off with a good amount like 50 then add up where every day we get daily gifts or at least a wheel of fortune, so it won’t be difficult to get gems and passes.:))

Download APK

Additional Information

App Download Version Varies with device Last Updated April 22, 2019 Apk Size Varies with device Offered By Episode Interactive Category Simulation Content Rating Rated for 12+ Support Android Version Varies with device Installs 50,000,000+ Play Store Available

Episode App Permissions

This app has access to:

Wi-Fi connection information

view Wi-Fi connections

Identity

Contacts

find accounts on the device

approximate location (network-based)

precise location (GPS and network-based)

Photos/Media/Files

read the contents of your USB storage

modify or delete the contents of your USB storage

Device ID & call information

read phone status and identity

receive data from Internet

view network connections

full network access

run at startup

control vibration

prevent device from sleeping

[marcusssanderson]

Why Do I Procrastinate and How Can I Beat It

Why do I procrastinate, especially, when I know better?

Why do I feel an urge to do something else whenever I start doing something important?

What steps can I take to move forward?

If this sounds like you, keep reading!

We are asking the wrong question, and I’m as guilty as anyone. It’s not, “Why do I put off the things I really want or need to do?” The real question we have to ask ourselves is, “What’s the pay-off I enjoy by avoiding doing what I say is important?”

Our answers may vary but see if any (or all!) of these apply:

I get to stay comfortable.

I get to stay anxious.

I get to protect my dream.

I get to avoid making a decision.

I get to stay small.

Why Do I Procrastinate?

Let’s look at the reasons why we procrastinate.

I get to stay comfortable…Fear of Failure/Fear of Letting Go

Are we ignoring the nudge to take an important step, and instead, holding on to what’s familiar? Pruning is a metaphor I write about often because it’s just that powerful.

We are often so afraid of letting go—of something, someone, maybe some job that isn’t working—that we will cling to the dying branches.

The thought of the void seems so much worse than the death itself. Invariably though, when we let go of what’s not working and what is draining our energy and resources, we make room for new growth. Usually it’s so much better than we could’ve imagined!

Maybe we’re afraid of failing so we never try? Sometimes the only way to know what we are capable of is to push our limits. We will either delight in accomplishing what we set out to do, or we will find out what our best is on any given day.

If we fall short of our expectations, we can celebrate that we did our best. As we continue to push our limits, we may fall short of the goal, but we will continue to grow in the process.

I would rather overestimate myself and find my limits than underestimate myself and never reach my full potential. Les Brown says, “Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

Don Ward says, “If you are going to doubt something, doubt your limits.” If you think you can, you might be right. If you think you can’t and never try, you are definitely right!

I get to keep my dream intact…Fear of Lost Hope

Why does an ostrich stick its head in the sand? I don’t know, but why humans do it is a little easier to figure out. We may want something so much, but we don’t go after it because if we fail, we’ll lose our dream.

We would rather stay comfortable on our cozy couches, dreaming, hoping, praying, wishing and asking ourselves, “Wonder what it would be like to do that?” Instead, we could be asking ourselves, “How will I actually do that?”

Maybe that dream is all we have? Maybe our identity is so tightly wound up in that dream that we can’t afford to lose it? Maybe we keep our heads in the sand about a job or relationship because we know deep down, it’s not right, but we don’t want to admit it, much less do anything about it.

We disconnect from the part of us that knows the truth, so we don’t have to get out of our comfort zones and take action. Once we have awareness, it’s very difficult to go back to blissful ignorance.

Awareness may lead to fear but the cure for fear is always action! “I’m afraid!” Do it anyway. “I may fail!” Do it anyway, because either way, you will grow. “What if it doesn’t work?” It definitely won’t work if you don’t try, but what if it does?

“Who will I be if my dream doesn’t work out?” I don’t know, but who are you now, with an unsung song in your heart?” Personally, I would rather have my head in the clouds trying different things, than buried in sand, trying nothing.

I get to stay anxious, which is more familiar than calm…Fear of the Unknown

How many times have you said, “Tomorrow, I’m finally going to start that big project,” but then tomorrow arrives and you act against your best intentions?

All these unintentional choices can leave us filled with disappointment in ourselves, short on hope that we will ever act in a way that reflects our true desires.

How can we allow the greatness we have inside us to be fully expressed while the dark clouds of anxiety and shame are constantly hovering over a corner of our lives? Ahh, but maybe that’s the point?

By avoiding what’s really important, we can regularly sabotage our lives and continue to feel pretty crappy about ourselves. I hope some of you are wondering, “And how is that a pay-off, exactly?” It’s crazy, I know, but sometimes feeling good actually feels bad to some of us. So we do things that feel bad to feel better. Huh?

If we came from a background of chaos, calm can seem scary. By keeping anxiousness and unhappiness steadily flowing into our lives, we can have a leg up on anything else that might hurt us. In other words, we may feel we can control sabotage easier than success.

And this becomes a means of self-protection against fear of the unknown (good or bad). Nothing and no one can ruin our day if we’re doing a good job of that on our own! If this describes you, maybe it’s time to take a risk and try something different?

I’ve ventured out of my chaos-comfort zone a few times now and the sky hasn’t fallen. I’m learning it’s okay to feel good and that vulnerability can actually pay off nicely. Exercise one (below) is critical.

I get to avoid making a decision…Fear of Mistakes/a.k.a.Perfectionism

Perfectionism. The very word even sounds rigid and binding. Some of us may prolong taking any important action until we have the whole script written and we have everything worked out to the last detail.

While it’s possible life could happen the way we plan, more often than not, we will have to take action without knowing how it’s all going to turn out.

One way I’m learning that perfectionism is controlling me is by watching my vocabulary when I’m talking to myself. Should’s, and ought-to’s are a good sign that I’m trying to force a particular outcome or make myself do something I don’t really want to do.

Sometimes the should voice gets so loud, it drowns out all my authentic wants and needs. I feel paralyzed in overwhelm, wrestling with what I ought to do versus what I might like to do, so I stay frozen and do nothing.

Either that or I trick myself into thinking I’m taking action when I’m really just busying myself with other “important” tasks like cleaning out my inbox or getting lost in social media for hours.

I’m making progress in learning to trade in the “I should’s” and instead, ask myself, “In this moment, what do I really want to do?” I usually have an answer immediately. When I can mediate a balance between my wants and needs, and discern if there is any validity in the “should” voice, I can tap into my own natural flow and take action, without hesitation.

I get to stay small…Fear of Success

We’ve all heard the phrase, “We are never given more than we can handle.” I’ve always applied that to difficult situations and tough times, but I recently heard the idea that it’s also true for our talents, our potential, and thus, our destinies.

Fear of success is just as real as fear of failure. This may be the reason some of us constantly avoid taking important next steps.

In Nelson Mandela‘s famous inaugural speech, he quoted Marianne Williamson by saying, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

The biggest role we will ever play on the stage of life is ourselves! We must not be afraid to trust and follow the mysterious greatness inside us, no matter how unknown, unpredictable, or scary it may seem.

Change will happen at a speed we can handle. Me being all of ME, you being all of YOU, inherently came with the equipping we would each need to be that person in full. Being all that we are meant to become, letting all of ourselves float to the surface for the world to see is never a mistake.

It’s who we were born to be and it’s our role in the symphony of life. While this doesn’t happen overnight, we can all take a step in the right direction today by being honest and asking ourselves if we are hiding behind avoidance.

Solutions

Moving forward is a choice. However, understanding why we procrastinate leads to greater self-empathy, which helps us discover what we need before real progress can occur. Only then will we give ourselves permission to take action on our goals and dreams.

EXERCISE #1

Make a list of everything you’re avoiding or procrastinating about. Congratulations! Awareness and acknowledgment are the first steps. Now draw a line down your paper and for each one, write all the possible fears of taking a step in the direction of what you really want.

Then ask yourself, “What is the underlying belief holding me back?” Maybe it’s, “If I act on a dream and it doesn’t work out, I will look foolish.” Or, “If I succeed, I won’t be able to manage the pace of success.”

There’s no right or wrong answers, this is just you getting to know the real you—your fears, hopes, dreams and inherent beliefs. In a third column, write down the worst thing that could happen if you move forward in that area, and rate how likely that is to come true on a scale of 1-10. In a fourth column, jot down one tiny step you are willing to take and the name of someone you can use for accountability and support.

Strangely enough, one right action can give us just enough of a self-esteem boost to make another right decision. With each small, seemingly insignificant choice, self-trust and self-respect begin to return.

We’re motivated to continue. All the while, we remind ourselves what we really want and why we’re doing this in the first place. Our “why” must stay in the forefront, fueling our efforts.

TIP

Another trick is to focus on the journey rather than just the ultimate outcome. If we look for the gift—the reward solely in today’s small action—we may be more likely to jump in and do it.

If we slow down and enjoy the activity, we are more likely to find the willingness to take the next right step. Most of our lives are spent on the way anyway. Let’s have fun getting there!

Remember, good things take time. Living in a microwave, fast-food society, our inherent desire to pull up to the drive-thru window and have it our way is so much more appealing than taking small steps toward a meaningful accomplishment.

But we have a choice. We can dismiss the urges, desires, dreams, and goals that are going to take longer than one day, or we can do one small thing today (and the next, and the next) to get us closer to the goal.

EXERCISE #2

Visualize how nice it will feel to just do it (whatever “it” is). Imagine being free of the mounting pressure hanging over your head. See the goal achieved. Allow yourself to bask in the glow of accomplishment, self-pride, and the fruits of your actions. Doesn’t that feel great?

When the payoff for avoidance and staying comfortable becomes overshadowed by the payoff for getting it done, the scales will tip and suddenly we will have more motivation to be unstuck than stuck. We will do what is necessary to feel better and improve our situation. We will enjoy a sense of accomplishment for finally taking action.

BOTTOM LINE

No one can tell us when it’s time to move forward. We have to stay stuck until we’re good and ready to get unstuck. When we’re done playing around with a problem, we’ll solve it.

We already know what we need to do. In the meantime, we can accept we’re right where we’re supposed to be, getting the lesson and building up the necessary drive to take action.

Pretty soon we’ll do it and wonder why we waited so long! Usually, it’s not as big of an issue as we made it out to be in our minds … and in our procrastination. Cheers to your perfect timing!

The post Why Do I Procrastinate and How Can I Beat It appeared first on Everyday Power.

[worldofadvent]

NEO World of Advent Chapter Nineteen

Cipher stood at the edge of his Family's property, oddly nostalgic about the apartment complex, as though each random quirk were something special and to be missed. Like the oddly colored layers of concrete that surrounded their pool or the way their lights shone in their rooms as he approached them at night. It might not be the end of this after all, Cipher had to remind himself. There was always the chance that the test proved negative, and that he really was just a random kid Neo Arcadia stuck with cleaning up someone else's mess.

His Family stood at the gates beside him. The younger kids really didn't know the significance of what this meant yet, but they seemed to sense the gravity of the situation. Even Matt's hands were oddly still and not rummaging through someone's pocket for spare change. The older teens, the people Cipher had entrusted his Family to, whom he worked with every day to keep them all in order, were in various stages of acceptance.

Charles had taken the news pretty well, all things considered. He had promised Cipher to Head the family in his place should things go well at Neige's office. Kent and Bradley were a little slower to accept the change. In the days that followed, they had given him a wide berth, as if figuring out how to address him beyond Cipher, Head of Family 024. And Shirley… She had taken the news the hardest, for sure. Still, Cipher thought as he gave his assembled Family a weak smile, she had shown up. That meant a lot to him.

"I guess this is it," Cipher said. "I just want you to know that it's not really goodbye. It just means I won't be around as much. I'll keep in touch; I already set up a time to talk with Charles every night at 8. You guys can join in if you want."

"Of course." Brandon nudged Shirley. "We'll be there."

"Thanks." Cipher breathed a sigh of relief; he had hoped that it wouldn't just be Charles on the other end. That might have gotten awkward after a little while. "It's not even a for sure thing anyway. Maybe Neige really is crazy or this is some elaborate ruse." He really hoped that wasn't the case, but he wouldn't know for sure until it actually happened.

"Even if it doesn't turn out like you hope it does, it's not like you don't have a place where you already belong." Shirley tried to keep the poison in her voice to a minimum, but Cero could see a hint of the rage that had slowly died down since that fateful night he had let them all know of his decision to take the test. "We'll be here."

"Hey, I want to meet Zero if you are though." Kent grinned. "How cool is that, your dad might be the savior of the freaking world."

Hoo boy. Cipher felt another wave of confusion and panic. As if meeting the folks wasn't stressful enough; now he had to deal with them maybe being famous heroes. "Ciel is important too," he said in his mother(?)'s defense. "She's partly responsible for us existing at all and her Ciel System is what allows the city to function... I see I've lost you."

"Slash slash! Pew pew!" one of the younger kids made gunning motions with a finger death ray. Bradley nodded sagely.

"You just can't argue with that logic," he said. Cipher rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile.

"I'll miss you losers," Cipher said. "Try not to let the place burn down while I'm gone, okay? Seriously, Matt," he said to the most problematic Advent in their family. "Please don't actually burn the place down."

"I won't," Matt promised. "I actually like having a roof over my head, you know."

"Good." Cipher felt relieved with that small matter of business in order. "I guess I'm going then. I'll let you know what happens later."

"It's going to pretty obvious if you're not," Shirley said. "If you're not back in a few hours, we'll figure it out."

"Got it." Cipher raised his arms awkwardly. "Group hug? I know I said we don't do those, but this seems like an extenuating circumstance." The four of them initiated a mass dogpile, which the younger kids had no problem with executing. When enough of them had moved from Cipher's prone body and he verified that he had no broken bones, Cipher hailed a cab that would take him to Neige's office. He didn't quite trust him to drive safely with everything going in in the back of his mind.

It was a relatively short ride there; outside Neige was waiting for him expectantly. Cipher had already called earlier to let her know that he was actually going to take it so she could have whatever black market gene test ready for him when he got there. "Hey there Champ," Neige said. "You ready for this?"

"As I'll ever be." Cipher stared at the doors of the building, wondering if he was about to be the source of the next major scoop. "Let's do it."

"I know this isn't easy for you," Neige said as she directed him to her office. "You've got guts. If nothing else, at the end of the day, you stood up for yourself."

"I know," Cipher said. "I just kind of don't want to return empty handed if that makes sense. I don't know what I'd do if this doesn't work out like you think it will."

"We'll burn that bridge when we get to it," Neige said. "If we get to it." She brought out a long syringe. "I hope you're not afraid of needles."

"I was hoping there would be an alternative way of sucking my blood out," Cipher admitted. "Do you have one of those blood prick things?"

"Don't wuss out on me now," Neige said. "Just relax; it'll only take a second. I may have done this more than once, you know."

"Aren't you a reporter?" Cipher stared at her suspiciously. "How do you know how to use medical supplies like this kind of thing?"

"I'm a reporter," Neige shot his words back at him. "That means I have to be able to do a lot more than sit behind a desk and write."

"Fair enough," Cipher said, wincing as the needle punctured his skin, looking away as the tube filled with his own blood. The sight of the crimson liquid made him woozy. "Are we done?"

"All done," Neige assured him. "This machine can cross reference different genomes fairly quickly if you already have a sample of what you're crossing it with."

"Do you have a sample?" Cipher didn't relish the thought of sitting there while a machine calculated his fate.

"Of course I do," Neige said as she brought out a few more vials of blood. "Don't ask me how I got these; it's best if you don't know."

"Duly noted." Cipher watched as Neige set the machine up. It was a tall black thing with different knobs and a glass screen that remained blank for the time being.

"This thing will turn green if it's a match," Neige said. "The numbers will tell me just how close the samples are. But it's not like we're comparing apes to chimps here; if that thing does turn green, you're the real deal."

Cipher watched the machine intently as Neige placed his phial beside another. "We're going to use Ceil's first," Neige explained. "Advents primarily take after their human parent after all."

The butterflies in Cipher's stomach turned into a swarm of nervous excitement. His stomach actually cramped from the force of the stress and he found himself doubled over as the machine started making a soft sort of noise before it at last turned the shade of young grass.

"It's a match," Neige said. "You really are her son. Just to make sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, I'm going to analyze Zero and Cero's blood along the readings as well."

Soon, the machine turned different shades of green, a pale seafoam green with Zero's sample and deep emerald upon being matched with Cero's. "Advent siblings are really close, genetically speaking," Neige explained. "That means that, beyond a shadow of doubt, Cero is your biological sibling."

Cipher felt lightheaded. He wanted to feel giddy, excited. He wanted to be happy, but he found himself too overloaded with the realization that he actually had a family. Not just any family either, the leaders of the Resistance.

'It's a lot to take in I know," Neige said. "Take your time." She kept an eye on him while fiddling with some things behind her desk. "Let me know when you're all set for the call."

"Call?" Cipher scratched his head. "Are we really doing this now?"

"Well yeah," Neige said. "I told them I'd let them know as soon as I found either of you. I figured you'd want to be a part of it."

"Alright," Cipher said. "But you're going to have to do the explaining." He didn't trust himself to be able to say the right words.

"I was already going to," Neige said. "Just sit tight. It's on speaker, by the way." The phone rang for six agonizing times before letting Neige know that the voicebox was full. Neige growled in vexation and redialed the number, only to be met with the same message. "Figures," she muttered to herself. "I have the most important message she'll ever hear from me and she can't even be bothered to pick up the damn phone."

"So what now? Do we just call her later?" Cipher's tolerance for excitement was quickly reaching its limit.

"Oh hell no." Neige jingled a pair of keys. "We're going to tell her in person. I hope you don't mind if I drive; I don't trust those auto cabs you see all over the city."

"You have a license right?" Cipher eyed her keys nervously. "Auto cabs are usually much safer, aren't they?"

"I prefer to be in control of my own destiny." Neige hummed a short tune as she threw on a coat. "Come on, we've got to give your folks a heart attack."

"Hopefully not," Cipher said as he settled in the passenger seat of her cruiser. It wasn't much different from auto cabs, save for the addition of a steering wheel and the pedals. Neige pushed a stick forward and the car revved to life. "That would kind of suck."

"Jeez, no kidding. Let's hope that being on the run from Neo Arcadia hardened them up a bit, shall we? I'd hate to have your reunion spoiled by Ceil's having to be rushed to the hospital."

"That doesn't actually happen, does it?" Cipher wasn't exactly knowledgeable about the usual sequence of events that followed something like this.

"Oh no," Neige said. "Just about never. They'll be fine, it's you I'm worried about. You know that they're going to be just as nervous meeting you as you are them, right? They've been looking for you for years now." Neige's phone rang. She eyed the caller ID critically. "Pick up your damn phone, woman. And tell Zero to be ready, I don't want him to be off blowing something up when I get there."

Ceil's voice could be heard through the receiver, even though it wasn't set to speaker mode. "What's up Neige? Normally you give us a bit more time when you stop by. Is it something important?"

"You could say that. Just get your baby daddy in the same room or whatever, I'll explain when I get there." She closed the call with a click and silenced her phone. It still vibrated, Cipher noticed, and did so for the remainder of their trip. "It's her fault," Neige said. "She should have picked up the first time."

Soon, they were at the gates. A machine went through the motions as it verified Neige's ID, asking what the nature of her visit was. "Family visit," she told it. "Neige and Cipher." Two badges popped out a second later. Neige tossed him his as she skidded into a parking spot. "Not bad," she critiqued her job. "I didn't even scrape the paint this time."

"This place is huge," Cipher said. It could fit at least ten of the Forge inside easily. "I had no idea how massive it really was."

"It's fairly big," Neige agreed. "Kind of has to be, what with all the people they get. Not everyone's content with life in the big city." She shut the door and locked it with a chirp from her keys. Hey," Neige said as the thought came up, "Your next match is soon, right? They just got finished with the other divisions. Maybe Zero can give you some pointers, eh?"

Cipher was sick as they mounted the steps up to the entrance. "I'm just going to let you do the talking, okay? I don't feel so good."

"Gotcha." Neige led the two of them inside. Neige found someone she knew, apparently and engaged in quick pleasantries. "This is Allouette," she told Cipher. "She's kind of like a sister to your mother."

"Mother?" Allouette's eyes traveled to the badge on Cipher's vest, mouthing the words 'Family Visit,' then 'Cipher.' She dropped the clipboard she was carrying along with some other stuff with a crash that soon became a tight embrace. "CIPHER! I can't believe Neige found you." She held him at arm's length, giving him just enough space to breathe. "How?"

"I'll explain later," Neige said lowly. "Can you lower it a few notches? You're causing a scene and I kind of wanted the kid's parents to see him first."

"Of course." Allouette brought her hands to her face. "I'm your Aunt 'Lou," she said giddily. "That's what your brother calls me."

"Uh, hi." Cipher felt overwhelmed by the force of the nurse reploid's emotion. "It's good to meet you."

"Oh," Allouette squealed. "I can't wait to tell them! I'll let them know we're on our way." She dialed something quickly, telling Ciel to get over there stat. Her face was flushed as she gazed at Cipher. "They're going to be so happy to finally meet you."

Soon, there was a small scene as a blonde woman with bright eyes just like his rounded the corner, panting. Beside her, a tall red reploid looked around anxiously. Soon, they zeroed in on Allouette and the boy she held in a tight vicegrip. Cipher looked up, meeting his mother's piercing blue eyes for what felt like hours. Her hand flew to her mouth and tears sprang at the corners of her eyes. She ran forward, crushing Cipher in the tightest embrace he'd ever experienced. It was warm, filled with unconditional love, and absolute. Cipher found himself crying with her as he returned the hug. It felt right, somehow. Like a piece of some puzzle had finally been put back into place.

"My boy," Ciel crooned. "My baby boy." Soon, she relinquished him so that Zero could look at him. The reploid hero seemed to be at a loss for what to say. Somehow that was comforting, Cipher found himself thinking. Someone else who didn't quite know what to make of his sudden arrival. The reploid's face warped into something raw and vulnerable. He held Cipher at length before Ciel nudged his side. "Go," she whispered. "He's your son."

Zero bent down so that they were eye to eye. "I always wondered what you would look like," he said at last. "I lost hope… i thought I would never know." He put his arms around Cipher, bringing him close. Somehow, the hero's grasp was softer, gentler than his human wife's, but no less filled with that sense of absolute and unconditional love. "Welcome home, Cipher." He wiped tears from behind Cipher's back. "I thought I'd never get to say that. Welcome home."

"Hi," Cipher said nervously, hesitantly. "Dad." Zero nodded in the crook of his shoulder. "I uh, I guess this means you're my parents." The statement felt dumb as he said it, entirely redundant. But they would never know just how much it meant to him, to be able to say it. "My family."

"You're home now," Zero told him. "I don't care where you've been or what you've done. You're here now. You're safe now." He held Cipher closely, as if he was afraid he would disappear if he let go. Cipher squirmed uncomfortably and Zero released him. "You have a brother," he said. "I'd very much like for you to meet him."

"Cero?" Cipher smiled. "The Resistance Kid. I guess that makes me the Resistance Kid too."

"He hates being called that," Zero (his father!) said. "He likes to be called Cero. Come, we'll introduce you to him."

Ciel nodded. "He should be downstairs," she said. "With Clover, as usual."

"Who's Clover?" The name was unfamiliar to Cipher. But then, he supposed, this was all unfamiliar to him. He was venturing into new territory, giving the comfortable familiarity of control up for something much, much greater.

"Cero's cyber elf," Zero said. "But she also doesn't like being called that. She's quite the character. I hope you two get along well."

Cipher found himself wondering who this Clover character was and why she came with a mild advisory warning, but said nothing. He let, for the first time in so very long, someone else decide what was best for him. Downstairs, someone roughly a year or two younger than Cipher was talking to an even younger girl with light brown hair the color of chestnuts. They seemed to be in a heated argument, but enjoying it somehow. Ciel made the first move, getting their attention with a quick wave. Cero looked up, looking about as dumbfounded as Cipher felt when his eyes locked in on him. Cero's mouth hung open, and the girl beside him glowed. Literally. As if the day couldn't get any weirder, the girl actually emitted some form of illumination in her own excitement.

"Cero," Zero said. "This is your brother. Cipher. He's home. At last."

Cero gave Cipher a curious look, as if probing him for answers he didn't have. "You're my brother," Cero said stupidly. Cipher chuckled; at least he wasn't the only one making redundant statements. Cero's dumbfoundedness slowly turned into a cautious, but hopeful smile. "So you're my older brother, Cipher."

"Yeah," Cipher said. "You look just like me." The two gave a small chuckle at that, connected through some strange, inexplicable bond of blood. "So uh, I'm home?"

"Yeah. This is going to take a little getting used to," Cero admitted. "But I can show you around if you'd like."

"I think I'd like that." Cipher looked up, sandwiched between a blonde woman and a tall red reploid with a similar mane of blonde hair and their son who was also his brother and all the unspoken emotion that words just couldn't do justice. They were an odd looking family, Cipher thought, but what family wasn't?