#SORRY USUALLY I TAKE TEN MILLION YEARS TO ANSWER ASKS THOUGHTFULLY BUT THIS IS JUST REALLY FUNNY

[mcybree]

hey i know ur limlifeblogging right now but i'm rewatching secret life and can we talk about scott joking with mumbo about jimmy having commitment issues

IM CRYING

[rons-wheezely]

224 || G.W.

George Weasley x Reader, Soulmate AU

Genre: Fluff, humor

Summary: Each soulmate pair receives a special number to them, and them only, on the day they’re born into this world. The placement on the body can vary, so people usually keep to themselves unless they fancy someone or it’s displayed somewhere public. How do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

A/N: i have been so inactive, I’m so sorry rip I am going to try to post a fic here and there, but I’m still a student doing student things... This blog recently turned 2 years old, and has reached about 300 followers, so thank you so much for those of you who have found me in the piles of other wonderful works :) I love you all from the bottom of my heart.

--x--

“Oh, do forgive me, Georgie,” you playfully shove him out of the way. He stumbles away from the shelf containing the last package of Fizzing Whizbees in time for you to snatch it into your hands. You hear him chuckle as he regains his balance behind you. It’s suffocatingly crowded with fellow students in Honeydukes, so he leans in close so you can hear him. 

His warm breath comes close to your ear, saying with a soft laugh,” At least share, alright?”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully as the smile plastered on your face turned into a smirk. You make your way to the cashier with George close behind. The candy in the box shake in your hands, and the decorative ring you’re wearing on your middle finger glimmers in the shop’s light. You call over your shoulder,” If you win the next match against Slytherin, I might.” 

This statement alone had George fist pump the air in satisfaction. Even if he lost, you would most likely share it anyways –– to cheer him up, of course. You two have been best friends since your first year when you cleverly evaded one of the twins’ pranks. It was a lucky guess, but the outcome left Fred and George tangled in a mess of burping up slugs for three hours. It was an easy friendship after that, other than the secret feelings you harbored for George, that is. 

Soon enough, the match came and the sight was an absolutely thrilling one. You watch as each player flies by, and each time the wind sweeps your hair in every direction. Fred and George are on a spectacular streak, and they never once miss the bludger. Thankfully you had a pair of binoculars and Lee Jordan’s commentary; the team was so small in the air that it was hard to tell what was happening.

Harry Potter was no doubt going to catch the snitch, and here he comes now swooping in underneath his teammates. He’s almost flat against his broomstick, urging it to go faster before Malfoy could get to the fluttering golden speck. All eyes are on Potter, and the boy is mere inches away. Just as his nimble fingers wrap around the snitch, another Gryffindor teammate drops from the air.

You can hear the subtle gasps from a few in the crowd who noticed. The Gryffindor team were too enraptured with Harry’s catch to notice that one of them was dropping ten, twenty, thirty meters to the ground. “George!” You cried.

As if sending a telepathic message to the other twin, though it is most likely he heard you yell as clear as day, Fred swoops down to save his brother from impact. You notice now that you're standing on your feet and leaning on the railing that separates you from your best friends on the field. You watch on in horror as Fred barely makes it in time. The breath you didn’t know you were holding finally escapes you, and your surroundings come back all at once. 

You hear the deafening silence and the sound of the wind blowing by. No one moves as they watch Fred land on the ground with George. It was Lee who ended the tension,” And with that, Gryffindor earns 130 points and has won the match…” 

All at once, everyone in the stands scrambles to get out. Elated with Harry’s catch and the twins’ safety, the student body goes their separate ways. You follow them as well and weave your way through the crowd to get to Fred and George. Panic fills your lungs, and every fiber in your body screams to make sure they’re okay.

“Fred!” You call out,” Are you two alright?”

“Yeah, no harm done to me,” he sighs,” –– Other than this git. A bludger whacked him straight on the side and he passed out on his ride down.” 

“It looks like it hurts… but it’s nothing Madame Pomfrey can’t handle, right?” You wince. You try to convince yourself that George is just sleeping a very deep, restful sleep.

“I reckon he’ll be fine, y/n.” Fred winks your way with a sly grin. “Visit him lots, yeah?”

Madame Pomfrey refused to let anyone in until she was done running some tests. When she finally let you visit, you rushed to sit next to George’s bedside. He stirred at your frantic movements and opened an eye to see you. “It’s not that bad is it?” He chuckles.

“She said that you’ve broken a few ribs, but you’ll be alright.” You smile. 

George sits up slowly, pretending to be in agonizing pain. You worry for a bit and reach out to him on instinct, but he laughs and tells you he’s okay. His torso is wrapped entirely with gauze over his clothes, and there are a few bandages wrapped around his forearms as well. Pomfrey had drawn a blanket over George earlier, so the white sheet still covered the lower half of his body. A moment goes by, and you hear a soft wheeze leaving George’s lips. “You don’t suppose my soulmate is into beaten up ginger-heads, do you?”

“Well,” you mull over your words. Pretending to take his question seriously, you answer,” they would have if you were Fred..” You laugh a little as you catch the glint in his eyes –– the mischievous one you had grown to love. 

“Oh, if only I looked exactly like that bloke.” He jokes. His head falls a little forward as he laughs. His gaze is drawn to his lap, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he looked like those shy love interests in romantic muggle films. 

You notice that his fiery hair is covering his eyes, and your body compels you to get another glimpse of that wonderful boy’s face. Ever so gently, you reach your hand out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. When your fingers curve around the back of his ear, you notice a few dark marks of what looks like a tattoo. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion. You go to move more of his hair out of the way, but he turns his eyes to you. 

“Are you getting handsy with me y/n? Tryin’ to make a move, are you?” He smiles, but there is a small panic in his eyes as they frantically search yours. “You could’ve just asked me out, you know.”

“Is that your soulmate mark?” You ask.

“Maybe.”

“Well,” you huff playfully,” I might be able to tell you who your soulmate is. I might cry if your soulmate is Madame Pomfrey, though.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks, a playful tone in his voice.

"Georgie, please don’t tell me you have a thing for milfs.”

It takes everything in him to hold back his laughter. George pulls his hair back to reveal the numbers 224 etched behind his left ear. Your breath catches in your throat, but you try to hide your very obvious shock. 224 was a number you knew too well, and seeing that number reflected on your best friend’s skin meant that your deepest feelings were true. It’s okay to be in love with George because now... now there is chance he feels the same way.

Your mark is tattooed on the band of your middle finger, which is usually covered up by jewelry. You fidget with your rings nervously, trying to ground yourself all the while. George doesn’t pay too much attention to it when he says,“Fred has his numbers on his right ear. I might be the right-hand man, but he’s lucky enough to be the right-ear man.”

You laugh at his really bad pun,” Really? Out of all of the ear jokes, you chose that one?” 

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” He nudges you with his shoulder, and you can’t help but giggle some more.

“Would you like to hear a fun fact?” You ask. You gulp down all of the fear that has started to swallow you whole. You are George’s soulmate. The idea buzzes in your head along with a million other thoughts. George nods for you to continue, and you fight the panicked urge to scream. “...In the muggle world, they have such advanced technology.”

“Yeah, dad would know––” George interjects for a second.

“The numbers 224 actually hold a meaning to them. It’s something like a code–– it’s related to their fancy devices I think? Anyways,” you take a deep breath. You remember vividly the details your friend went to great lengths explaining to you. 

“Your number is all kinds of special, y/n!” Mae beams at you. Her eyes twinkle in an amusing manner as she tries to prove herself. A soft thud could be heard when her hands meet with the common room table, and she quickly jumps to her feet. “Imagine, having such a fantastic number as that!” She exclaims with awe.

“I don’t understand?” You bemusedly remark. Why would numbers hold more meanings beyond your standard soulmate reason?

“My brother loves binary code, a certain muggle science,” she explains,” and he told me a few meanings. One of them being yours! Now, if only fate would tell us who your soulmate was...”

If Mae were in this room, she would be bursting at the seams from pure glee. You look into George’s eyes and say,” ...the numbers actually mean something along the lines of ‘Today, Tomorrow, Forever.’ It has to do with the bond you and your soulmate have together.“

He blinks once or twice before breaking out into a grin,” Okay, can you say it again but,” he emphasizes,” simpler, maybe?

“––it means that your soulmate will love an accident-prone idiot like you forever and always,” You joke halfheartedly.

The familiar gleaming smile he wore after a successful prank creeps up onto his face: one of self satisfaction and deserving of many awards based on looks alone. His smile is much gentler and you almost miss it, but a blush tints the very tips of his cheeks. “Oh? wait ‘till dad finds out that numbers have meanings to muggles. How’d you know all of this anyway?”

“Oh, it’s just something my friend talked to me about.” You dismiss his questioning gaze and clear your throat. Every second that passes makes you more and more anxious being around George, simply just by knowing you two are soulmates. It’s a dream come true, sure. But how do you go around explaining to your best friend that he’s the one?

“Are you alright, y/n?” George asks. “You seem real fidgety. Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Oh–– no, it just that,” you gulp. “Well.. I think left the Fizzing Whizbees back in my dorm room.” You lie. You know it’s in your bag with your other belongings, safely tucked away for later consumption. “Post-game snacks are essential, and I did make a promise.”

“Are you sure you left it there? I thought I saw it in your bag...” He leans over to find your bag, and sure enough, he pulls out the box of candy.

“Oh.” You look at him. There’s an awkward pause before he clears his throat.

“You’ve really got to get yourself together mate–– looks like Nearly Headless Nick showed you his neck hole again or something.” George jokes to lighten the mood, but he’s right. The longer you sit there and stare at him, the more you either want to slam your lips against his or vomit profusely. You feel pale and sickly; just enough to feel the twists and turns of your stomach. Is this what having butterflies feel like? He opens the bag of candy and offers you some.

You share the box of whizbees with him, taking one out and popping them into your mouth. It fizzes and jolts a little as the sweet taste melts on your tongue. “I think maybe Fred slipped something to me earlier,” you avert your gaze,” I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, sounds like Fred.” George grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes. He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hands, and it does seem to relax some of your nerves. He looks at you softly and gently, and all at once, your anxiety starts to melt away in his presence. You almost forget why you’re so worried in the first place. “You know I’m not going anywhere. If you have to take a massive shit, I’ll wait for you.” He says as he pats your hand reassuringly.

You erupt into laughter and shove him away. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

“Nothing says true love like bowl movements, darling.”

As the laughter dies down, the somber feeling in your gut returns. It’s now or never, right? “George, I think I need to tell you something. I—“

Fred bursts into the door with Lee following shortly behind. “There’s my favorite twin!” He beams. He gets a disapproving look from Madame Pomfrey peering around the corner from her office. Fred doesn’t pay much attention, choosing to walk past her with barely a glance over his shoulder. George rolls his eyes as Fred happily trots over, spilling some liquid from two mugs in his hands. “—had to have Lee help sneak these in for the party, which you lot are missing out on.” He hands you a mug of butter beer and George, the other.

You decide to drop the subject even after George was free from the hospital bed. It’s a few weeks since then, and school has made you push those thoughts of pesky soulmates and true love aside. Of course, George kept looking at you funny, waiting for you to bring it up again. To his dismay, you didn’t.

“Alright everyone, class is dismissed.” Professor Sprout announces as she busies herself in setting up plants for the next day. It’s the last class of the day, and you couldn’t be happier. Repotting plants was hard work, and you were sweaty enough as it is. Beads of sweat dripped down the side of your face, and as much as you hated it, it did make for good eye candy across the room — namely George, although there’s a lot of dirt smudged onto his face too.

He’s cleaning up rather quickly so you call out to him,” Can you grab my rings, Georgie? They’re over there by my bag.” You had to remove jewelry in order to “safely handle” the creatures and wear proper gloves. Those of which you hastily pull off to wash your hands. The suds come and go as you lather and rinse away in the sink.

“Today, tomorrow, forever eh?” George’s deep voice rumbles in your ear. You jump a little at the sudden scare. “I think I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

You turn your head a little to the side and come very close to George’s face. You can feel his breath fanning on your skin, and his nose is just barely touching yours. You fear that if you blink, the sight in front of you will vanish. Every freckle that glitters his skin is so close you could count them like the stars and draw constellations between them if you wanted to. It’s absolutely breathtaking. Your body feels like it’s on a cloud— so feather light and airy— as he smiles at you. Your throat is dry; your tongue struggles to keep up with your thoughts. “...what?” You choke out. You cover your hands on impulse, but you know it’s too late.

“It means you’re stuck with me forever, y/n.” He grins. “Soulmate magic is no joke, you know.” He hands you your rings and walks beside you out of the greenhouse. You slip the rings on to your middle finger where it’s always resided, deciding to fidget with it a little.

Nothing should be different. You’re walking with George in the hallways like you always do, your hair is no different than yesterday, and class was the same as an other day. And yet your heart is beating faster and the sun seems to shine brighter. The grass is greener and the lake bluer than it was this morning. Words remain unspoken, but the truth is there. His fingers are interlocked with yours. 224.

[xiaomoxu]

MLQC CN Lucien (Xu Mo) Recollection Date Part 1 & 2

SPOILER ALERT!!

It's Xu Mo Birthday Date which has released on CN server. I'm doing translation for personal reason, so I'm sorry if there's some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) feel free for read it~ ^^

PART 1

Today is Xu Mo’s birthday. What is different from the past is that today is also a more special day one by one

In the morning of this day, Xu Mo will report on the topics he has studied for many years.

A string of large characters is displayed on the screen—"Brain injury patients' cognitive changes to different emotions and intervention measures for emotion recognition after injury"

I sat quietly at the back of the lecture hall, watching the scholars walk into the lecture hall one after another.

After getting to know Xu Mo, I know that he has always been studying things.

Although I don't know much about his subject, through the whispers of the audience, I know that this is one of the major issues that have been deeply valued and unresolved in the brain science community.

Xu Mo in a formal suit stood on the stage. He looked down in a circle, paused for a few seconds while looking in the direction where I was, then walked to the podium.

Xu Mo: About twenty years ago, Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI)—Emotional cognition caused by traumatic brain injury is a problem that is not of much concern to everyone.

Xu Mo: Usually people feel that this is a small burden brought about by the treatment experience or the psychological changes of the patient himself.

Xu Mo: In a 2012 study, it is estimated that 54-60 million people worldwide suffer from TBI every year, and 2.2-3,600,000 people suffer from moderate to severe damage every year.

Xu Mo: In recent years, with the advancement of technology, we have been able to monitor changes in various physical data of patients with brain injury through the use of high-end equipment.

Xu Mo: We found that emotional changes—the traditional psychological cognition may be caused by physiological changes in the patient’s brain itself.

Xu Mo: Therefore, we follow this line of thinking to conduct in-depth research on the mechanism of emotional and cognitive changes in TBI patients to determine the principle of change.

Xu Mo: According to the guidance of the research results, intervention measures for post-injury emotion recognition for TBI patients were also formulated.

Xu Mo calmly and deliberately dropped every character. As he spoke, the report on the screen was displayed page by page.

The people at the bottom of the venue were quiet. Except for Xu Mo's report, there was only the rustle of pages turning.

Xu Mo: People with TBI may also increase their anxiety after maintaining TBI. After TBI, anxiety may exacerbate other cognitive dysfunctions.

Xu Mo: For example, the ability to recognize emotions.

Xu Mo: Compared with positive emotions, it is more difficult for people with TBI to recognize negative emotions such as anger, fear, and sadness.

Xu Mo: Next, I will introduce based on the data of 25 participants in the research group.

With the large lecture hall, scholars and researchers from all over the world are witnessing how this long-term research has reached this moment step by step.

In the last row of the lecture hall, I secretly photographed Xu Mo of today and inserted it into our third volume commemorative album.

PART 2

It was noon when Xu Mo left the report building.

I left the venue early and waited at the door with a box of cakes and a bunch of flowers. While seeing him, I solemnly handed over the bouquet.

MC: Professor Xu, good work.

Xu Mo glanced at the cake box in my hand, his eyes fell on my calm face, and he bent his eyes thoughtfully before taking the bouquet.

Xu Mo: Are you not planning to "surprise" this year's gifts?

MC: This bouquet of flowers is a gift for Professor Xu's hard work, not a birthday gift~

I smiled and raised the cake box in my hand, looking at Xu Mo sincerely and directly.

MC: But sometimes, the "surprise" that is not "surprise" has more unexpected magical effects.

MC: Anyway, you will guess at the end of every little action of mine, so it's better to go the other way and be more generous.

MC: I hope this year’s customized birthday, everything will start with you.

Xu Mo: So... what can I do today?

His voice was a little low, contained in the autumn breeze, like a leaf that kissed the water.

Meeting his gaze, I nodded happily.

MC: Today is the third birthday I celebrated for you, and it is the day when your years of research has a temporary end.

MC: Your mood is the most important on such a special day

MC: I want to accompany you to do all you want to do, not let you meet my expectations.

MC: In order to deal with various special situations, I have done special heat preservation and storage for the cake box.

Xu Mo: If I want to do a lot, will it be too troublesome?

MC: The birthday is to accept all the kindness of others.

Xu Mo: So what if there are a lot of things and can't finish it today?

MC: Then we will continue to do it tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow. Anyway, we have a lot of time.

MC: So you don't have to think too much, you can do whatever you want.

Xu Mo slowly lowered his eyes after hearing my answer, and lowered his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking.

A few days before the report, Xu Mo was slightly silent. At that time, I didn't ask much, just stayed quietly by his side.

With autumn leaves rustling, Xu Mo raised his hand to straighten my hair tossed by the wind, and then put his forehead against my forehead.

Xu Mo: That....

Xu Mo: Can you not be happy?

A few words whispered quietly from my ear, and I was a little surprised.

Xu Mo's expression was still very pale, the corners of his raised mouth kept a fixed arc, and his eyes brightened by the autumn light looked straight at me.

Like sneaking out of the shell, some expectation, and some unknown heaviness and panic.

I couldn't help taking a breath. The cold green grass and the fragrance of flowers filled my heart and lungs together.

MC: of course can.

Xu Mo's breathing stopped for a moment after hearing my answer

MC: Although I very much hope that you will be happy on your birthday.

MC: But if you are unhappy, I will be unhappy with you.

MC: I will spend all the unhappy time with you and wait for the moment when happiness comes.

"Happy birthday" should be a blessing, not a shackle.

Xu Mo smiled. The bright autumn colors covered his eyes, like the moment he explained the conclusion just on stage.

I shook the cake box and tilted my head.

MC: So, where does Professor Xu want to spend his special day?

He raised his head and looked deeply into the distance.

Xu Mo: I thought of a special place, but it was a bit far away.

Xu Mo: Would you like to walk with me?

MC: of course!

After a few hours' drive, we came to an old street.

Although it is an old street, it is constantly being repaired and refurbished.

I visited the neighborhood once when I was very young. Today's street scene is completely different from my vague memory.

People's vague and soft memories of the old city will always fade away with the renovation of every stone tile, every hawker who has been organized.

Until one day, Quiet City was silent in time.

Xu Mo's memory has always been very good, but this time it seems to be slightly slow.

He would stop at a certain street corner and look at it lightly; he would also quietly look around at the fork, as if the choice was not in his memory.

I followed him quietly, following the paved road. We climbed the ramp and went around for a long time.

After a while, Xu Mo finally stopped.

Before us, there is a silent open space.

I secretly looked at Xu Mo and saw that his expression was still clear light.

It is like looking into the distance without seeing the weight, looking at someone outside of time through this open space.

I retracted my gaze and looked at the clearing in front of me. I always felt that I could faintly guess where it was.

Xu Mo: MC, let's sit there for a while.

Xu Mo pointed to a bench facing the open space, took my hand and sat on it with him.

The noon in late autumn was a bit cold, and the whole world was so quiet that there was only breathing. The exhaled white mist whirled in the air and disappeared silently.

I looked at the open space, wantonly imagine what it once looked like.

Maybe it used to be the kind of small bungalows from the old days, there may be a small courtyard...

Xu Mo: There used to be a small bungalow like the old one. Do you know what it looks like?

Xu Mo's voice suddenly sounded, and I was shocked, and for a moment I thought that my imagination had a sound.

MC: I saw this kind of house when I was a kid, but I can't remember exactly.

Xu Mo: The bricks of the house are a little mottled white, and the roof is covered with red tiles.

Xu Mo: Because it is on a hillside, it often winds up

Xu Mo: On special days, rows of small blue and white flags will be hung on the eaves. When the wind is blowing, sitting in the courtyard and looking up is very beautiful.

Following Xu Mo's description, I closed my eyes looking at the open space and imagined the small white brick and red tiled house.

I felt Xu Mo holding my hand, and he put his fingers between mine, bringing our ten fingers together tightly.

I was about to open my eyes, but Xu Mo's voice continued

Xu Mo: Push the door outside and you can walk into the yard.

MC: Will there be flowers in the yard?

Xu Mo: Yes, there is a row of small flower beds on the left, but the owner is always a bit busy and often forgets to water.

Xu Mo: So they don’t look so healthy.

Xu Mo: The door of the room is in front of you, when the door opens you will have a "squeak" sound.

I nodded subconsciously, feeling as if I really walked through the small yard and opened the door.

Some stale air is opened along with the door, and together with the gentle memory, it welcomes the long-lost return.

-Part 3 and 4 will be updated.-

[lady-divine-writes]

Near Misses and First Kisses

Summary:

Crowley has wasted over 6000 years not kissing his angel. He’s decided today’s the day … but things don’t go quite the way he planned. (2277 words)

(AO3)

Crowley breathes in deep, filling his lungs to capacity, then pushes out. Breathes in deep, then pushes out; in and out … in and out … the ritual resembling something along the lines of Lamaze breathing to the rhythm of Killer Queen blaring through the speakers of his car stereo.

If he were human, he would’ve passed out by now.

Driving usually calms him down, but speeding through the city streets at a hundred-and-ten is doing nothing to slow the rapid beating of his heart, nothing to soothe his scattered nerves.

So he focuses on the task at hand, the one he’s rushing to get to.

Wish fulfillment.

‘Today’s the day,’ he thinks as he zips his way to Aziraphale’s shop. ‘This is it. No more excuses. Today’s the day I finally kiss my angel.’

Crowley has the whole scene mapped out, plastered inside his brain. He’s been playing it thru over and over again, familiarizing himself with it so he doesn’t chicken out. As far as he’s concerned, it’s in the stars. It izzz written, he says to himself, mocking Beelzebub’s voice. He takes another breath in and out and reminds himself once again how it will go down.

Crowley will arrive and park in his usual spot across the street, which, of course, will be empty for him. He’ll saunter up to Aziraphale’s door, cool as a cucumber. He’ll knock, thus forcing Aziraphale to open the door and invite him in. He didn’t call ahead of time so Aziraphale won’t be expecting him.

Surprise.

The element of surprise is key.

Aziraphale will open the door, probably a bit put out that some rude customer not only dared to show up at his shop, but knocked instead of walking their happy asses on in. But when he sees Crowley, his face will light up the way it always does, with that angelic glow Crowley has himself convinced is only for him.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale will say, but Crowley won’t say a word. He’ll sweep his angel up in his arms and kiss him. It’ll be perfectly romantic – Crowley will make sure of that.

But as he turns the corner a block away, the grin that’s been growing on his face at the thought of it starts to fade.

What if that’s too forward for Aziraphale?

What if it’s too much?

It’s hard for him to believe, but he has been told he can be a bit much sometimes.

He turns the next corner and slams on the brakes, gripped by a case of mild panic, but it’s too late.

He has arrived.

A voice in his brain keeps repeating that it’s now or never.

If Crowley doesn’t kiss Aziraphale today, he might not find the courage for another thousand years or so.

And that would suck seeing as he’s waited 6000 years already.

What the heck happened to him? Why is he such a frickin’ train wreck? He wants to be sophisticated and devil-may-care like the demon that broke Aziraphale out of the Bastille. Where the heck did that demon go?

He should have kissed him then. Holy Hellfire! That would have been the time to do it, after he’d miracled those chains off his wrists. That would have been romantic as all get out – the dashing rogue kissing his damsel in distress while still in the clutches of the enemy, like right out of the pages of a Harlequin Romance novel.

Not that he has any idea what’s in those. He doesn’t even read.

Ahem.

His mind floods with hundreds of times he could have kissed him, hundreds of opportunities lost, each more romantic than the last. He could have done it after he miracled that stain off Aziraphale’s coat. Or the night he invited him to stay over, before they were both sentenced to execution, or before lunch immediately after. What was he thinking!?

He sighs.

No use looking back. Move forward. Live for today and all that crap.

He decides to stick to the plan for now. Depending on how Aziraphale reacts when he sees him (as predictable as that reaction should be), the plan is subject to change.

He parks his Bentley. He gets out. He saunters across the street and up to the front door, all according to plan. He raises his closed fist to knock, his vision clear in his mind. But before he gets the chance to knock, the door swings open.

Crowley responds with a choked off noise of surprise.

Surprise. Well, that part worked, he guesses.

“Thank Heavens you’re here! Come in, come in! I need your help!” Aziraphale says, whisking back into his shop so quickly Crowley barely catches a glimpse of his face.

Crowley takes a step in and closes the door. He follows Aziraphale, waiting for a break in the conversation so he can rescue his plan back from off the rails, but whatever Aziraphale has on his mind to say, he’s not done.

“Do you remember that estate auction I won a few weeks ago? On that Internet website you showed me called E-bay?”

“I … guess?”

“The books have just arrived!” Aziraphale stops at a low wall of cardboard boxes crowding the doorway to his back room and gestures at them with delight. “I may have underestimated the amount because I don’t hardly have enough space to store them. So I need to get them unpacked and inventoried ASAP! Would you mind lending me a hand?”

“Why not just miracle them out of the boxes?” Crowley asks, groaning mentally in disgust at the thought of unpacking, dusting, and organizing what must be several hundred musty old books … especially considering his plan. “Save yourself the time and trouble of doing all the dirty work by hand?”

Aziraphale shoots Crowley a venomous glare, his glow dimming as his smile falls into a thin, unamused line. “I’m going to forget you said that.” With only a beat in between, he perks back up. “Come on! Just an hour or two, and then we can crack open the bottle of small batch whiskey they sent along with it to celebrate!”

“But Aziraphale, I …”

Aziraphale looks at Crowley for the first time since he’s arrived. His excitement doesn’t fade, but he looks tremendously guilty.

“Oh, I’m sorry! You did stop over for a different reason, didn’t you? I shouldn’t assume …”

“No, no, no! No sorry needed!” Crowley can’t take this moment away from him. Aziraphale has been waiting weeks for these books. He remembers now. And he’s not going to stop him from enjoying them, no matter the reason. “It can wait. Let’s get started. The quicker we start, the quicker we finish, yes?”

Aziraphale’s face brightens again, the glow that accompanies it blinding. “Excellent! Yes! Let’s get started!”

***

“And you know, it took me a long time to get comfortable with the idea of this whole online auction thing.” Aziraphale giggles, pleased beyond belief at his correct use of the modern vernacular for this situation. “I remember back in the old days, auctions were held in barns and town squares and whatnot. It didn’t seem logical to simply enter a price on the computer and then wait to see if you’d win. But you told me that’s how things are done these days. You said it would be all right. So, in the end, I said to myself, Self, take the plunge! It’s an excellent opportunity to …” Aziraphale turns to his sullen helper and looks him over thoughtfully. Crowley hasn’t said a word since they started. Not an acknowledgement, not a grunt, no verbal filler, even now when Aziraphale has stopped talking. He’s running on autopilot, absentmindedly dusting books off and stacking them into a pile without even touching them. He’s here, yes, and doing what Aziraphale asked, but his mind is a million miles away. If Aziraphale didn’t know any better, he’d say that the demon is pouting. Aziraphale puts down the book he’s dusting and sighs. “Crowley?”

“Hmm, what?” Crowley’s eyes snap up, blank and confused and disappointed all at once, which are difficult emotions for serpent eyes to convey, but he manages it.

“My goodness, dear boy! What in the Heaven is going on with you?”

“N-nothing. Why?”

“You’re awfully distracted, that’s why. Have you even heard a single thing I’ve said?”

“I … yes … no … hmm?”

Aziraphale gets up off the couch he’s sitting on and moves to sit beside Crowley. “Please, tell me what’s going on. You’ve got me a bit worried.”

“Uh … okay …” Crowley’s eyes drift to Aziraphale’s lips so swiftly the angel doesn’t seem to notice. “I …”

Aziraphale breathes in softly, expectantly (since he’s waiting for an answer), and suddenly, Crowley decides this is it. The moment he’s been waiting for. He has Aziraphale’s complete attention. And he’s just inches away. He wouldn’t even have to make a big production out of it. A simple lean in will do. Move forward and kiss him on the mouth, quick and painless - probably not the best two adjectives to describe a first kiss, one he’s been waiting 6000 years for, but they’re the ones that pop to mind.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale says with honest concern. “Tell me what’s the matter? Is it something I said? Something I did?”

“I … I wanted to … well, I was hoping to …”

“Yes …?” Aziraphale leans in himself and Crowley’s brain short circuits. They are both perfectly poised for this kiss! It doesn’t get much better than this!

Crowley stops trying to explain, though he probably should be asking. But he can’t seem to get the words out. Aziraphale, may I kiss you? There! It sounds so simple in his head. But he didn’t practice that. No, what he practiced in his head was a smooth, suave, swashbuckling-type maneuver … that got kneecapped the second Aziraphale opened the door.

But he can recover, bring it back to that. He’s just going to do it, no warning so he doesn’t scare Aziraphale off. One little peck, that’s all he’s aiming for.

Jesus Christmas! Hastur got it wrong. Mr. Slick he’s not.

Crowley doesn’t understand it! He’s done hundreds of temptations on random humans and never had performance anxiety this extreme! Of course, he’s never actually kissed any of the humans he’s tempted. He’s never kissed anybody.

And Aziraphale isn’t a random human. He’s Aziraphale.

“Fuck it,” he mutters and shifts forward, Aziraphale’s lips mere breaths away. There’s no way he can screw this up. None whatsoever.

And eventually Crowley does succeed in kissing him, but it doesn’t turn out the way he’d planned - though, at this point, he has to accept that the plan has gone belly up.

At the last possible moment, the bell over the bookshop door tinkles, and Aziraphale turns to see who has come in. Crowley kisses him, yes, but on the cheek, not the lips. He hears Aziraphale gasp, and without thinking to, without meaning to, Crowley makes time stop.

Aziraphale looks around, looks at him, feeling in the pit of his stomach what Crowley has done. The look in his eyes throws Crowley for its utter imperceptibility.

Is Aziraphale angry? Does he feel Betrayed? Violated?

Does he hate him now?

Oh, God! What did he do!? What did he do!? Why didn’t he just ask? That would have been the best course of action, plan be dammed! And he knew it! He knew better! He’s so stupid!

“I … I-I-I-I-I … I’m sorry!” Crowley scoots back on the sofa a foot. “I’m so sorry! I should have asked! I shouldn’t have assumed …”

“You missed.” Aziraphale’s voice rises only slightly above a whisper, but it’s firm, clear, and now Crowley is thoroughly confused.

“Come again?”

“You missed, my dear.” Aziraphale puts a hand to Crowley’s cheek, caressing gently. With none of the fear, anxiety, or clumsiness of his demon companion, he closes the gap between them, tilts his head, and kisses Crowley on the lips. When Crowley doesn’t react, too stunned to think straight, Aziraphale kisses him again. He kisses him and kisses him till Crowley comes back from the recesses of his frazzled brain and starts kissing him back, his hand finding the back of Aziraphale’s head and bringing him closer.

No, it’s not a peck, and it’s not quick, but it’s also not ambitious, because that’s not what kisses should be. It’s an exchange, a communication. In that one kiss, Aziraphale tells Crowley how long he’s waited, how much he’s wanted, how patient he’s been, how frightened for never, and now, how much he loves him.

And Crowley says it back.

It’s also not painless.

There’s heartbreak in that kiss - arguments, minor insults, fears of loss, of never evers, of gone for all eternity.

Of mourning best friends.

As far as first kisses go, this one is magical.

Neither angel nor demon want the kiss to end, but there comes a natural pause, and in it, Aziraphale smiles. “Is that why you came over here today? To kiss me?”

“Mmm … maybe …” Crowley mumbles, his forehead resting against Aziraphale’s, in no hurry to be anywhere outside of these few inches. “Well … ngh … I … yeah. Yeah it is.”

“Good.” Aziraphale sits back slowly, straightening his vest, a silent cue for Crowley to start time again. “I’m glad.”

“Are you really?” Crowley’s body follows Aziraphale as he makes to leave the room, subconsciously determined to follow wherever he leads from this day forward.

“Yes.” Aziraphale’s eyes meet Crowley’s shyly before he stands to greet his customers. “You saved me the bus fare.”

[camillemontespan]

the making of drake walker [interview]

@jovialyouthmusic @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @sirbeepsalot @moonlightgem7 @pug-bitch @burnsoslow @ibldw-main @mskaneko @emceesynonymroll @katedrakeohd @emichelle @notoriouscs @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @star-spangled-eyes @drakesensworld @gardeningourmet @rainbowsinthestorm @stopforamoment @dcbbw @iplaydrake @drakewalkerisreal @nazariortega

DRAKE THE DILF!!!

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

The Duke of Valtoria gives a deep chuckle as he studies the screen that shows the photographs of him for this interview. He points at the photograph that will become our chosen cover and says with his face blushing, 'My wife will frame that one.'

I look at the photograph and avert my eyes. It's a good picture of the Duke of Valtoria. It's completely different to most stiff upper lipped Dukes who have been our interview subjects before - for one thing, he is standing in a swimming pool with a white t-shirt that has gone see through, showing off his broad chest and muscles. He is the complete opposite of what you imagine a Duke to look like and I have to say that the change is very much welcome.

He's wearing a denim shirt now and his hair has been dried. We sit down at the bar by the hotel pool and he orders two coffees for us.

Drake Walker has been the Duke of Valtoria for five years. In this time, he has married the woman of his dreams, become a father to two children and set up a mental health campaign which has exploded into something much bigger than he anticipated - more on this later. He has had a busy five years and I wonder how he feels.

'I feel really good,' he tells me with a warm smile. 'Genuinely really good. I finally feel comfortable in my own skin which has been a long time coming, believe me.’ 

I’m meeting him today to discuss the expansion of his mental health campaign, Mind over Matter. What started as a small campaign to raise awareness of mental health in men has now switched up a gear and is being made into a registered charity. 

In case you missed it (have you been living under a rock?) Mind over Matter is a mental health campaign which involved Drake, his friends and men in Cordonia going on outdoor activities. What was mocked as simply being a glorified 'boys weekend' was suddenly praised when Drake had the idea to Vlog their activities. As the men trekked up mountains, abseiled, kayaked etc, they opened up and started talking about their worries, fears and hopes. It became a safe space for men who felt like they couldn't share feelings. Maxwell Beaumont admitted that he still thought about his mother who passed away when he was ten years old, but he didn't want to burden his brother. Drake told him to be honest because 'you are brothers, you're blood. Share the load.' As they talked, a charity donation line was set up so viewers could donate money to various mental health charities. It became a huge deal and it was all the brainchild of Drake Walker. Did he see this coming?

'Never in a million years,' he answers honestly. 'But now it's happened? I want to go bigger. I want it to become one of the main charities in Cordonia. If there's a guy out there struggling with depression, anxiety, alcoholism, anything, I want him to know he can contact Mind over Matter so he can speak to a qualified health professional and get the help he needs. I don't want anyone else to feel as alone as I did.'

I ask him to elaborate. He smiles. 'Growing up in court, I felt like an outcast. I hated everyone and they acted like I was the shit on their shoe. I built up walls around myself - no, scratch that, I built a fucking fortress - and I didn't let anyone in. But it all changed when I met Camille.. She basically saved my life.'

I've met Camille a handful of times and she's always been warm and kind. She looks like the type of woman you can share a bottle of wine with and chat about men. Drake let's out a deep laugh. 'Oh my god, she is! If you ask her to do that, she would do it. She's always up to talk.'

I imagine she has played a part in making Drake more vocal about his emotions. He nods eagerly. 'Absolutely. When we first met, I was such a dick to her. Thing was, I always found myself watching her, wanting to be part of her conversations but I stopped myself.'

Why?

He looks at me seriously. 'Because I felt like I wasn't worthy. Trust me, when people treat you like you're the shit on their shoes, you start to believe it. Why would this amazing woman waste her time talking to me? So I tried to hate her but couldn't. She took the time to talk to me, joke around. She broke down those walls I built and I'm forever grateful to her.'

Drake is keen to stress that he forces himself to be open about his feelings now. 'If I don't, I'm a hypocrite. I am the figurehead of a mental health charity. If I can't discuss how I'm feeling, then how can I preach to everyone else?'

I ask if it takes work. He nods. 'Every day.'

I decide to move the conversation onto something lighter. I want to know about his kids. Are they different?

He grins, happy to be a father. 'Well, Luna is a baby so it's hard to tell, but she is certainly a different baby compared to how Lily was. Luna is so quiet. She observes everything with these big round eyes, like everything is a wonder to her, and I constantly catch myself thinking baby girl, if I could just be in your head for one minute.. '

He goes quiet with a dopey smile on his face. He then shakes his head. 'They both have my smirk though.'

I ask to see the smirk.

He smirks.

Oh my. The Smirk makes me melt (it deserves capital letters).

Drake leans forward and whispers conspiratorially, 'My wife loves my smirk.'

I ask what family life is like. What is a day in the life entail?

'Usually, Lily wake us up when the sun hasn't even risen yet and screams IT'S MORNING TIME! She will usually be carrying her sister. Somehow, Lily's managed to work out how to unhinge the crib which is actually terrifying..'

Secret genius?

Drake chuckles. 'I think she has plans for world domination. She's only five and already, she's got the mind maps and dastardly plots..'

I smile at his easy humour.

'Camille refuses to get a nanny so she will look after Luna while I do the school drop off. I come home, take Luna, Camille goes to her appointments, she comes homes, we switch and I start work.' He stops then looks at me steadily. 'Jesus, this is such a boring article. I'm sorry. I'm a dad now, my life is just nappies, lack of sleep and wondering if my daughter's poo is a natural colour.'

I will be honest here. I've met Drake a few times and he used to be.. Well, he was always friendly, but he was never this forthcoming. Now he opens up more, jokes around, smiles a lot. I ask if Mind over Matter has helped him.

'It has, yes. But also I'm just happy. I feel content, like I'm right where I'm supposed to be, you know? I have an amazing wife, two beautiful daughters and I have a purpose. I'm more sure of myself now.'

Now he seems to have matured, what kind of dad is he? I imagine he's quite serious and overprotective.

He laughs. 'Yes, I'm very overprotective. God, Lily came home the other day and showed me her collection of leaves. Yes, leaves. Apparently, in her class, if a boy has a crush on you, he gifts a girl a leaf and vice versa. Leaves have become a sort of declaration of love. And she has four! FROM THE SAME GUY!'

I tease that Lily has a boyfriend. Drake shudders. 'Don't push me.'

He then grins. 'Clearly, he's got good taste.'

Is he serious then?

'Hell no! I'm honestly a really fun dad. Am I embarrassing? Maybe.. I do Iove a dad joke. But I take part in Lily's tea parties, I wear a plastic crown and everything. Sometimes, if we're pushing the boat out, we pour chocolate milk into the teacups.' He smiles again.' Tea party days are the best days.'

I ask if he can see himself having a son. He bites his lip thoughtfully.

'No.. I used to. When I allowed myself to start dreaming about raising a family, sure I wanted a little Drake Jr. But nah, I like having girls. They're cute and they're miniature versions of their mom. How can I not want that?'

He clearly adores his wife. You see paparazzi pictures of them and they always look so close. Often, Drake would be shielding her from the cameras or taking her hand to help her out of cars. 'I'm a gent,' Drake shrugs. 'I'm also of the opinion happy wife, happy life. She's my priority. Always has been, always will be.'

I ask what's new for the Duchess. She is very engaged with her duties and seems to aways be visiting children's hospitals or promoting charities.

'She fits into her role brilliantly,' Drake tells me. 'Given she was a commoner before, and an American one at that, she's really settled into being a Duchess. I was in awe. She takes the time to get to know her public, she never complains, she cares. I'm so glad that we both got to learn our roles at the same time. She kept me feeling positive.'

Did he ever think negative?

'I always worried I was failing as a Duke,' he admits. 'I thought I wasn't doing anything. I felt like everyone could see right through me.'

Imposter syndrome?

'Yes!' he cries. 'Definitely. It took me a while to find my feet.'

The interview is beginning to wrap up. Since the past five years have been a whirlwind, is he expecting the same to happen for the next five? He is launching Mind Over Matter as a charity after all. He gives me a warm smile. 'Honestly? Once it's launched, I'm taking it easy. I'm taking my family camping for a weekend. I've got it all planned. I know I go camping a lot for Mind Over Matter so you'd think I'd be sick of it but honestly, I don't. I love being outside and if it means I get to have fun with my children, teach them new things and spend time with my wife, I'm happy. But the next five years? You can't plan it. Everything that's happened to me in my life so far, I never imagined ever happening to me. But I'm excited. So fucking excited.'

I can tell you this, reader. Drake has found himself on steady ground. Long may it continue.

[ssimagines]

Turn Away|| Barry Allen || Cancer series 1

Pairing: Barry Allen x Sick!Reader

Word Count: 3290  sorry its so long

Summary: You have cancer and are currently going through chemo therapy. You are currently seeing forensic scientist, Barry Allen, but he doesn’t know yet.

Warnings: Serious illness, Cancer, Sorta sad not really, minor swear words

Note: this is based off Cancer by MCR covered by TØP. I kinda want to make this a series, but let’s see how this one goes first.

You sat in your large cushioned chair watching chemicals drip from a pump through the port into your body. The constant rhythm of the dripping chemo had you in a nulled state. It was boring to watch, but you had nothing else to do. You were there alone for your second session in your chemo therapy cycle. It was a Tuesday, and everyone who knew about your condition was at work. Your whole family was there for your surgery when the doctors removed a cardiac tumor. Your mother and aunt Marie waited by your bed for 5 days while you were in the hospital. Sadly, your mother had to return to Star City for work leaving you with your aunt Marie who had insisted you move in so she could take care of you. She came with you to your first appointment, but she wasn’t able to take off any more work leaving you to sit in the dingy room all alone. You didn’t mind much, and besides you weren’t completely alone. There were two other people getting treatment today. One was a woman who looked to be a soccer mom in her late 40s who you had seen here last week. She was reading a book that you couldn’t make out from here. The other was an older man who you guessed to be in his 70s. He was snoring rather loudly which brought a smile to your face. He reminded you of your own grandfather who fell asleep anytime he was sitting still. You had wanted to fall asleep, but you knew that if you fell asleep now you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. You were constantly tired as a side effect of the drugs that were being pumped into your system. You had brought a book to read, but you now you were really regretting your choice of title. You thought it would be funny to read The Fault in Our Stars while you were going through your chemo. Now you just thought it was damn depressing. When the book first came out, you ate it up, but now you were not too keen on the idea of it. These kids had their life taken away from. They would never go to college. They would never get married or have kids. There were so many experiences they would never get to have. It reminded you that there were experiences that you were never going to get to have, and that was something you really didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to think about the fact that you might be dying because you didn’t want it to be real. You took a deep breath and set your book on the table that was beside your chair. Your blanket that was slipping off your legs, but it was kind of nice to feel the cold air against your legs. It was only about an hour into your session, and you were already uncomfortable. No matter how you sat, with your limited positions because of the port, it didn’t get better. You were just doomed to sit uncomfortably. After about ten minutes, you found what you decided to be the most comfortable position you were going to find. You heard your phone buzz from underneath your book on the table. In frustration, you threw your head back lightly hitting it against the back of the large chair. Taking a deep breath, you moved to grab your phone to check the message or notification that had arrived not long ago and snuggled back into your chair.     SAVE ME FROM Dr. HIGH HAT -Barry You laughed at the message you had just gotten. Though you had only known Barry for a little over three months, the two of you had become very close. Part of being so close to him involved him texting you at all hours of the day and night to tell you about his day which often included complaining about his boss or telling you all about what his friend, Cisco, had done that day. Today was no different.     Is he really that bad? -Y/N After sending the text, you set your phone on your lap and looked to the clock. You knew that no time had really passed, but you were antsy to get out of here.  Almost instantly, your phone buzzed. You grunted loudly at Barry. Your communications were really great at times when you wanted to text, but now you were just annoyed more than anything. You hadn’t told him about your condition, and for now you wanted to keep it that way. You had meet Barry right after you had found out you had a tumor at CC Jitters. It was around that time that everyone you knew found out. They were all so sympathetic that it was almost toxic. You could no longer have a conversation with any of them without talking purely about your cancer. With Barry, you didn’t have to worry about it. You thought back to the day you met him. It was a rainy day in Central City which you had found was rather unusual. There had only been about ten or eleven of them since you had moved here almost three years ago. You had moved most of your things into a storage unit this morning and you were moving the rest of the things from your apartment into your aunt’s house this afternoon. You had gotten up early to finish quickly, but that left you in dire need of coffee that lead you to your favorite coffee shop in town, CC Jitters. You stood in line waiting to order. You usually order a small iced tea, but you needed the caffeine so you were planning on getting something stronger today. The person in front of you finished his order and move aside to let you order. “What can I get for you today?” the barista asked. He was in his early 20s dressed in a sweater and a beanie similarly to you. Though you were trying to do everything possible with your hair while you still had, it you had rushed out the door. The barista was smiling at the rain outside over your shoulder. “Can I get a medium Café mocha for here?” You said. Though it was a simple order, you were nervous. Your voice shock unsteadily, but you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. “That will be $4.15,” The barista said. Silently, you handed him a $5 bill and waited for your change which you put into the tip jar. You step aside to let the person behind you order as you watched your drink being made. After it was served to you, you found a table and settled in with your book, To Kill a Mockingbird. You liked to read while you had your coffee. You saw it as a nice break from the world for a while. This was prime reading time as Jitters was mostly empty. “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice your reading a To Kill a Mockingbird,” A voice said. You looked up from your book to see a man leaning on the edge of your table across from where you sat. He was a very attractive tall, lanky man with brown hair and green eyes. He had smile on his face that made your heart flutter slightly. “Oh, yeah it’s one of my favorite books,” You said offering him a smile. “I’ve read it too many times to count now.” “I can tell,” he said gesturing to your worn copy whose binding was in need of repair. You smiled down at your book putting your bookmark in it and setting it to the side slightly. You gestured to the seat in front of you. “Would you like to join me?” You offered. To which he quickly pulled put the chair and sat down. The two of you talked for over an hour before you both had to go. You exchanged numbers and promised to meet up soon. You did meet up with Barry not long after that you went on a date with him the following week. Not long after that you got together with him one more time that month. Despite not having seen him since before your surgery, you two had grown close, both romantically and otherwise. You finally looked at the message from Barry.     He truly is. He took me off another case because of “metahuman involvement”- Barry You had to admit it was pretty funny that this kept happening. There were very few cases now days that didn’t have some sort of metahuman involvement meaning Barry had a very light case work that got smaller every day. He didn’t really get why he wasn’t allowed to work on the metahuman cases, so he always hashed it up to his boss being mean to him. It really got Barry worked up.      Well, there’s always another case -Y/N You responded more quickly this time and didn’t bother putting your phone away knowing that Barry would respond right away again.     True. I’m about to get lunch. Want to go with me? -Barry Your heart broke a little. Barry had been asking you to do things with him since your last date, but you were worried about him finding out about your illness so you always turned him down. Every time you did, your heart broke more. You really liked Barry and under normal circumstances you could see yourself having a future with him.   I can’t. I’m kinda busy right now. -Y/N You used the same line a million times and usually Barry was understanding, but sometimes he would get frustrated. Part of you hoped that this wasn’t one of these times.    I can do it later if that works better for you -Barry Barry didn’t hesitate to send you another message right after that.     It’s been two months, and I’d really love to see your beautiful face again -Barry Unsure of what to do, you step your phone down and looked around the room. In that moment, you made eye contact with the woman across the room. The joy in her eyes disappeared as was replaced with concern. It hadn’t occurred to you that your emotions were probably written all over your face. “Are you okay sweetie?” Her voice was smooth like honey even though she looked paper thin. “Not really you,” You answered honestly. After you found out you were sick, part of you decided that you try to be honest when people asked if you were okay. You thought life was too short to lie about and hide emotions. “I’m sorta seeing this guy, but I haven’t told him I’m sick.” She nodded thoughtfully and took a moment to think. You watched her mull things over in her head. After a few breaths, you looked down at the message that was still on your phone screen. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but let me tell you a story,” The women started. “This isn’t my first time going through this. About ten years ago, the doctors found a lump on my breast. At the time, I was married to my first husband of nearly 20 and it was really devastating to both of us. Our kids were 14 and 12, and we weren’t sure what we were going to do. We did everything there was and I went into remission. I got better, but my marriage was broken from that. My husband kept saying that this was not what he signed up for and it caused us to separate. “After about a year, we got a divorce. I was really devastated at first, but I went to a support group for people with cancer, and things got easier. I met Gary there and the two of us got along really well. Eventually our friendship turned into more and we were married a little over three years ago. When I relapsed, Gary was there. He has been here every step of the way. He knew exactly the risks when going into this marriage and it made us stronger whereas before it tore my marriage apart. “I don’t want you to have to go through what I did. You have the opportunity to let this boy know before you get to close and it breaks you completely when he leaves. The sooner you let him know the sooner you find out what kind of person he is. Just think about it.” You looked to your phone again really thinking about what she said. Taking a deep breath, you typed your message.     My thing finished in about an hour and a half. Do you want to meet at Big Belly Burger afterwards? -Y/N “Thank you,” You said quietly to the woman who just smiled and went back to her book.     Can’t wait. I’ll see you there -Barry You watched as the woman got up with the help of a nurse was prepared to leave. On her way out, she placed her hand on your shoulder and looked you in the eyes. “If he doesn’t want to be with you after this then you know before you get your heart broken to badly. I’ll be here next week, and I expect a full report on what happened,” She offered a warm smile and squeezed your shoulder before leaving. The room returned to the soft sounds of the old man snoring. You looked out the window by your chair at the pale gray sky of Central City.

After wrapping up your chemo for the day, you did your best to get to Big Belly Burger in time. You didn’t want Barry to have to wait for too long. As you walked into the small restaurant, you saw Barry seated in a booth with food already in front of him. He looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw you walk in. His smile stretched from ear to ear. He stood as you got closer to envelope you in a hug. His arms were warm and comforting which differed from the chilly November air outside. “I like what you did to your hair,” He said as the two of you sat down across from one another. You hand instinctively went to your hair that was cut very short. You had cut after your surgery in preparation for losing it during chemo. “Oh, yeah I just needed a change you know,” You said. “I hope you don’t mind I ordered for you. A cheese burger and a medium lemonade, right?” he said gesturing to the food that was placed in front of you. You smiled and nodded. There was a certain pride you had over the fact that he knew your order. You had come here once with him and you brought him lunch to have together once, but those were both two months ago. The fact he remembered meant a lot to you. You sat together eating. Barry told you a story about his best friend, Iris, who had gone on a really bad date recently. Barry talked to you about Iris a lot. At first, you thought he liked her, but after getting to know him better, you discovered that though he used to like her, he no longer did. You listened intently adding your input when necessary. His smile grew when you tried. “So, what is new with you?” He asked laying his hand on top of yours. “It’s been too long since we got together.” “I actually have something really important to talk to you about,” you said. You looked down at his hand on yours. The pressure had decreased between your hands. “Are you seeing someone else?” He said quietly. “I mean we never really said that we were together, but I thought that you saw us as going somewhere like I did. I understand though. I can be distant-” “Barry, I’m not seeing anyone else,” you interrupted him. A part of you was sad that he thought you would do that to him. “Far from it, actually I’ve been hoping that you weren’t thinking of seeing anyone else. That’s not what I needed to talk about though.” “Wait so you are telling me you don’t want to be with anyone else, but me,” Barry smiled this goofy smile to which you returned. You squeezed his hand. “Right, but Barry, please I really need to talk to you about this,” Your eyebrows creased and you could feel your head throb slightly. The fatigue from earlier today was really kicking it up a notch, and you felt a little sick to your stomach. The nausea was worse than it had been ever been. You pulled your hand away from you him and let it rest over your mouth. You slowly got up and headed in the direction of the bathroom. Barry jumped up to follow you. When you finally pushed your way into the one-person bathroom, you leaned over the toilet and emptied your stomach. You felt a warm hand rubbing warm circles on your back. You wiped your mouth on your sleeve and made a note to change when you got home. You leaned back into Barry’s chest. “Barry, I’m sick,” you said quietly as you two sat there on the floor. You felt his chest move as you felt him chuckle. “Y/N, I got that,” He said as he ran his hand over your forehead and through your hair. You sighed. “Barry, it’s more serious than that,” you pulled away to look at him. He his smile fell slowly. He looked at you with compassion. He was urging you to go on, but you needed a moment to figure out exactly what to say. You stood up off the ground and went to the sink. After turning the faucet on, you splashed cold water on your face. You saw Barry stand up from off the floor and came to wrap his arms around your waist. “I have cancer,” you let out a deep breath as you closed your eyes. Barry let go of your waist and stepped back. It seemed that your confession had stolen all the words from his mouth. After a moment, he looked between you and the floor desperately. “You… I can’t- I don’t. Y/N. Are you okay? Are you going to be okay? Is it treatable?” Barry looked worried. I smiled at him and looked him in the eye. “I am going to be okay.” He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your neck. He was warm, and it calmed you. You felt tears on your shoulder. As a way to calm him you rubbed your back. You felt tears in the corner of your eyes. In that moment, you realized you were both still in the bathroom. You pulled away from him. “Barry, we are in a big belly burger bathroom,” you said laughing. He looked you in the eye joining you in laughter. “Let’s get out of here. Are you tired?” He asked, and you nodded. “I’ll call into work and tell Albert that I’m taking the rest of the day off. We can go back to my place and watch Netflix.” “That sounds perfect to me,” you smiled and wrapped your hand around his waist. You walked out of the bathroom together. With him by your side, all the awful feelings you had about your chemo feel away. You had Barry by your side and that was enough. You looked at the tall lanky man walking alongside you, and smiled. “Thank you,” You said. Barry just looked down at you with a small smile and pressed his lips to your temple. You had a feeling that everything just might work out.

Part 2     Part 3     Part 4    Part 5

[allyinthekeyofx]

Genesis - 19 & 20