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adorkablephil · 6 years

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Fic: Imaginary Friends finale!

Title: Imaginary Friends Summary: Nothing’s AU ... except that Dan and Phil have been appearing in each other’s dreams since childhood without realizing it because they’re soulmates. Everything on the outside looks like the reality we’re used to irl. Rating: Teen Word Count: 2.3K (this chapter) Tags: Soulmates, AU, But Kind of Not AU, Except That There’s Magic, Certainly Not a Typical Soulmates AU, Dreams, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Pining Author’s Note: This is the final chapter! The exclamation point at the end of this chapter’s title is a reference to the last screen image of the TATINOF stage show. Fic also available on AO3 here

[Masterlist of all Imaginary Friends chapters on Tumblr]

Chapter 11: The End!

Phil sat on the sofa in his usual spot, leaving Dan his preferred sofa crease, though he guessed that Dan would more likely choose to sit closer beside Phil instead. Phil had made the mistake of taking apart the Tetris lamp near the fireplace, and he hadn’t been able to figure out how to put it back together. He kept moving the pieces from one hand to the other, trying to fit them together with little success.

Dan came from the kitchen holding two mugs and presented one to Phil then, as Phil had hoped, curled up close to him so that his legs lay partway on top of Phil’s and their sides pressed together. Phil took a sip from the mug of hot chocolate and sighed, a sound Dan echoed as he lay his head on Phil’s shoulder.

“It’s going to be hard to drink your cocoa like that,” Phil pointed out, then took another sip, letting the warmth of the chocolate, the warmth of the man beside him, the warmth of this shared home they’d built together over the years seep into his bones, leaving him deeply comfortable and relaxed.

“I’ll drink it in a minute,” Dan replied. “Right now I’m comfy.” He nuzzled his head in the crook of Phil’s shoulder, his wavy hair tickling Phil’s chin and neck. He held his warm mug carefully in both hands, resting it on his thigh as he inhaled deeply.

Phil chuckled. “Are you sniffing me?”

“You smell like chocolate,” Dan replied before kissing Phil’s neck lightly and sitting up to take a sip of his own warm drink.

Phil rolled his eyes. “You’re the one who gave me the chocolate, you know.”

Dan shook his head, drank deeply from his mug, and smiled with his eyes closed for a moment. He opened his eyes and looked at Phil, and Phil saw the same complete relaxation and comfort suffusing him as Phil had been feeling. “You always smell like chocolate,” Dan smiled. “Or Haribo.”

“Always?” Phil asked, raising an eyebrow. “Even after we’ve spent hours getting all sweaty and coming all over each other and…”

A siren wailed from the road outside, drowning out Phil’s words, and they looked at each other and laughed.

“Just when you were starting to get so very wonderfully … inappropriate.” Dan’s grin was wicked. “Tell me more about the coming…”

The sound of drilling set Phil’s brain vibrating horribly in his skull, and he grimaced. “Did you have to make it this realistic?” he whined. “The chocolate was good, and the sofa, and even the Tetris lamp, even though I sort of broke it…”

Dan sighed. “Well, at least you only broke it in our dream. The real one is safe at home.” Their eyes met and they both looked a little sad. “Thousands of miles away.” Dan climbed onto Phil’s lap, wrapping his arms and legs around him as the sofa and lounge and Tetris lamp dissolved around them, leaving them cushioned by the plump pillows in their treehouse.

Their home away from home.

It wasn’t the same.

Dan squeezed Phil with all his limbs and then pushed him over so that he lay flat on the cushions with Dan on top of him. The roof and branches over their heads melted away so that beyond Dan’s head Phil saw a sky filled with stars. He remembered the first time Dan had been a sky full of stars, and then that star-filled boy leaned down, ducking his head to kiss him.

“You still taste like chocolate,” Dan breathed wistfully against Phil’s lips.

“You taste like starlight,” Phil replied, remembering, melancholy. “Like a man with lips made of stars.”

Dan lifted his hands to hold Phil’s face gently and leaned down to kiss him again. “You taste like home.”

Phil woke to the sound of the tour bus tires on the road, the sight of light glancing through the curtains to dance on the bedroom wall.

He almost missed the drilling and the sirens. Before they’d even left for the American part of the tour, they’d already agreed to find a new place when they got home, but right now all he wanted was to be back in that creaky flat with the dodgy gas pipes and complete lack of storage.

He imagined himself sleeping in Dan’s bed with the black-and-white comforter. He could bring his own pillow, with its bright blues and greens, the same pillow his head rested on right now. He turned his head slightly so that he could see mostly only the colorful fabric of his pillow case, and he imagined that he was in Dan’s bed back at the flat. He could smell Dan all around him in this room, could feel his warmth only inches away, could hear his soft breathing as he continued sleeping. He would wake soon, and the tour bus would arrive back in California again, and they would start another day of the tour.

Just two more performances.

Two more shows, on two consecutive days in California, and they would be finished. They would have to wrap up some loose ends for the behind-the-scenes documentary for YouTube Red, but then they could go home.

Finally home. Their home. Their home in a different sense than it had been when they left it, because they would be sharing it in a very different way than they had before.

He opened his eyes and looked at Dan’s peaceful, sleeping face. No frown, no dimple, no ironically pretentious facial expression. Just … Dan. And then those brown eyes fluttered open, and Dan smiled a sleepy smile, and there was the dimple. The deep one. With him lying on his side, the other wasn’t visible, but Phil knew it was there. He knew Dan now. Not just his dimples—he’d known those before, even anonymous people on the Internet who had never met Dan knew those—but Dan’s heart and Dan’s soul. Dan in the daylight and Dan in his dreams. He knew all of Dan. And Dan knew all of him.

And Dan loved him, even knowing it all.

And he loved Dan.

And tonight at the show they would have to act like nothing had changed. That they were the same Dan and Phil they’d been when they left that creaky flat, that they were the same people they’d been to each other then. That they hadn’t discovered everything they’d discovered since. That they didn’t know each other more intimately than any two people possibly could.

They would have to act like friends … with the tiniest bit of flirtation originally written into the script, which now felt like it profaned the profound honesty of the truth.

Dan’s drowsy smile faded, presumably at the expression on Phil’s own face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Phil shrugged, then turned to lie on his back, looking up at the familiar ceiling of the familiar tour bus bedroom. “Just … I’m tired of putting on an act. Pretending that you aren’t … that you aren’t … everything. To me.”

Dan’s voice sounded sad when he said slowly, “We’ll still have to pretend when we get home. I mean … unless you were thinking … were you wanting to tell everyone?”

Phil turned to face Dan again. “No!” he said forcefully. “This is too important, too private, too … this is just for us. No one else would understand.” He kissed Dan’s lips gently. “No one could understand. Even people who know some of it, like Martyn and Cornelia … they can’t really understand. No one ever will. This is ours.”

“Then … how will it be different when we’re home?” Dan sounded confused.

Phil sighed and lay flat on his back again. “I don’t know. We just won’t have to … every night won’t be … we can just … we can be together, at the flat. Whatever flat we end up choosing. We can be there together, and it can be private. It can be real. When we’re there, when no one is watching, it will be real. And that will be most of the time. Right now, it’s just … it’s like … most of it’s pretending … and we’re only real in stolen moments. I want more than that. I don’t want to have to spend most of our time pretending that we aren’t … connected.”

Phil felt Dan lie flat beside him, both of them staring up at the ceiling now, and then he felt that warm, beloved hand slip into his, fingers intertwining. Dan said softly, “We’ll be able to be real. All the time. Not just in our dreams.”

Phil turned his head, so did Dan, and they just looked at each other for a while. Maybe all the rest of the way to California.

The penultimate show in some random southern California town went off without a hitch, and all that remained was the most important show, the one that they were filming in Hollywood to release as an actual movie on YouTube Red … a movie that was planned to be one of the subscription service’s first major releases.

No pressure.

In the dressing room before the show, Dan shooed everyone out and pushed Phil up against the door to kiss him, using the weight of both their bodies to make sure no one could open the door to interrupt.

“Okay,” he said as he pulled away, looking a bit nervous. Phil knew how he felt. They’d done a lot of these shows, but this one would be recorded forever, seen by a lot more people than any of the live stage shows had been. They would have to be aware of every glance, every facial expression, every gesture. “You ready?” Dan asked, and Phil nodded.

“One more kiss,” Phil begged, and Dan complied with flattering enthusiasm. There wouldn’t be any kissing once their make-up had been applied and the crew began buzzing around them like a cloud of annoyingly persistent but incredibly helpful gnats, right up until the moment they walked out onto the stage alone … together.

Phil thought that final show was the best of the entire tour. They’d certainly practiced it enough by then, after so many performances in so many cities in front of so many crowds. And if their facial expressions showed a bit too much occasionally, well … the fans would only like it more.

But how could they sing, “Without the Internet we never would have met,” in the same way now that they had when they’d first written the song all those months ago? Before they’d known.

Before they’d known that they had met long, long before Phil ever made that first video, before YouTube even existed, or Twitter, or any of it.

They hadn’t needed the Internet in order to meet. They’d only needed their dreams.

Though, in the end, the Internet had ended up helping rather a lot with the practical side of things.

But none of that was in the show they’d written, or the song they sang, though a bit of it may have been in their eyes despite how much they tried to hide it.

They’d filmed much of the documentary commentary already, but the last segment had them both struggling for composure. Phil was surprised how emotional he was that it was really over. It was really the end. The end of the tour, but the start of something new for him and Dan, and neither of them knew yet what that would look like.

Phil suspected there would be toast and tea and anime and treehouses and cornflowers and giant Godzillas and things he couldn’t even imagine yet, because their future could be anything they wanted it to be, anything at all.

As they filmed the final scenes for the documentary, he and Dan tried to wrap things up, talking about the end of the tour. They’d written vague notes in advance, but hadn’t planned precisely what they wanted to say, because they liked to leave things a bit spontaneous, as they did in their videos. Some of their conversation was completely unscripted.

So when they’d climbed into the car and Phil said without thinking, “I think I’ll be on the plane and I’ll be like, ‘Awww! I miss the tour bus!’” he saw Dan’s expression shift, as if he were trying to keep his face bland in front of the camera, but up close Phil could see that his eyes were not bland at all. Not at all.

“Will you miss the tour bus?” Dan asked, trying to turn it into a joke. But Phil knew it wasn’t a joke.

“Yeah!” And he made sure Dan could see he meant it. Because without that bus, without them sharing that bed, would they ever have worked it out? Would they ever have realized?

They made sure that the edit cut immediately after that, because Dan hadn’t been able to keep his expression from going too soft for public consumption. Too many feelings and memories that just weren’t meant for YouTube Red.

The final words of the documentary, though, they’d scripted precisely in advance. Phil knew the cute bit of dialogue would work, would wrap up the story of the tour, would give their viewers a sense of satisfaction and completion … but they’d also made sure to include a bit of their own private meaning, just for them.

Because, in the end, this voyage had been about them. About them finding each other, and realizing that they’d found each other long ago without even realizing it, and discovering that their home had been there for them all along, but now they could go back to having it mostly just for themselves. They had a lot to explore and learn, now that they would finally have a bit more privacy.

“Hey Phil?” Dan asked, following the script.

“What?” Phil asked brightly.

“Let’s go home.”

“Okay.”

Author’s End Note: So there you have it, folks. The end has come. I’ve loved writing this story, and some of you have seemed to really enjoy reading it, so I’m kind of sorry to see it end. But let me know what you think, whether it be through likes, comments, reblogs, Patreon, Ko-fi, anonymous asks, or whatever floats your boat. Every single one of you who has offered even the smallest word of encouragement, thank you. Your support has been appreciated more than you know.

A reviewer on AO3 requested this fic from Dan’s POV, and I actually do plan to write a one-shot that gives Dan’s perspective on this world and its events. It won’t be an additional chapter to this story, because this story is finished, but I’ll link to it on the masterlist as a sort of adjunct or something if/when it gets written.

And, lastly, to the anon who many many months ago requested that I write a soulmates AU, this strange concoction probably wasn’t what you were hoping for, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. 💜

#phanfiction #phanfic #phan #au phanfiction #au phanfic #phan soulmates au #phanfic soulmates #phanfiction au #phanfic au #dan and phil #myphanfic

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drycerealthief · 6 years

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Looking After You (Like You Do For Me)

AO3 Masterlist - Phil's sick. Not for the first time on this tour, but making sure he's okay will always be Dan's priority.

“I look like absolute shit.” He says in frustration, after giving up trying to tame his hair into anything that didn't scream ‘restless night after long haul flight'

He casts a longing look at the hair straighteners lying unused on the countertop, despite knowing using them would be a complete waste of time in this city-sized-humidifier.

"Oi! Don't talk about my-" is all he hears before the rest of the sentence is cut off by a particularly violent coughing fit. And he's heard plenty of those to compare it to over the past 24 hours or so.

Phil's sick.

Nothing major, at worst it's a flu bug he's picked up, probably at one of the Meet and Greet sessions they'd done prior to each show, but he's sick, and they're abroad, somewhere they're not familiar with, which combined with the fact they're both tired from the tour and the travel, makes Phil miserable, and Dan worried.

The flight from Brisbane to Hong Kong had been a miserable nine hours. Phil had made an offhand comment about not feeling too great before they'd left for the airport, but they'd brushed it off as tiredness at first, and both decided to do their best to sleep the flight away so they'd be rested and able to explore the city when they arrived. By the time they’d checked in for the flight Dan was revising that opinion. Phil was… distracted. Quiet. Off in his own little world. Not that was unusual. What was causing his concern was that Dan was struggling to get his attention, or any sort of response out of him. It’s not something he’d ever say aloud, knowing (despite it being true) how it would sound to anyone else, but getting and keeping Phil’s attention wasn’t usually at all challenging. Hadn’t been for years. (though it was the same in reverse.) Unless something was wrong. And clearly something was. After clearing security, following a tense, but thankfully short wait, watching as Phil obviously struggled to focus on the questions he’s being asked for what would otherwise feel like the hundredth time this year alone, Dan guides Phil towards the nearest set of shops in the departure lounge. If he hadn’t been worried, the similarity between this and how they spent their time at Heathrow on the way out to Australia would probably have led to a few whispered jokes. But even though the tables are turned this time, he’s too focused on getting something to help Phil feel better and make the rapidly approaching flight bearable that any potential irony passes him by. After scanning the insides of each store they pass, Dan admits defeat and heads into the main duty-free store, quickly finding one of the assistants, and asking if and where they stock any painkillers, Phil following as closely and quietly as a shadow. It doesn't take long to choose from the small number of products available, and after paying, they quickly find an uncrowded, quieter area near their gate to wait for boarding. Phil, after swallowing a combination of pills and capsules immediately slumps across two of the bench-style seats, head resting on his backpack. Dan sits next to his head, fingers threading through Phil's hair absently as he watches planes and airport vehicles of all kinds crisscrossing the airport tarmac, an action that probably soothes his own frayed nerves more than anything, as Phil falls into a fitful sleep within minutes. Rousing him when their flight is called for boarding isn't easy. He's still half-asleep when they present their boarding passes and passports to the agent, who makes a joke about him needing to stay awake at least through the safety briefing, so much so he barely reacts. Dan smiles half-heartedly back, thanks them quietly when he receives their passports back, then guides Phil into the tunnel and onto the plane.

He spends the entirety of the flight unable to relax, waiting for Phil to stir (he does, once or twice, but not for much longer than it takes to have a quick drink, and to take another dose of the medicines Dan presses into his overly warm hand about halfway through the flight,) and also constantly alert, ready to deflect the well-meant, but unwelcome advances of the crew members. He knows what Phil likes when he's not feeling well, after near-enough seven years together, and it's not hot or alcoholic drinks, and neither will he be happy at being woken up to be offered food. Instead, Dan hoards the snacks and "extras" on the meal trays throughout the flight, on the off-chance Phil does wake up wanting something to eat.

It's ultimately a pointless endeavour, Phil stays asleep for the majority of the flight, so Dan mounts a watchful guard over his sleeping boyfriend, not for the first time this year. The circumstances, although similar, are slightly different this time.

He remembered all too clearly a day spent worrying, cursing the phrase "the show must go on" whilst simultaneously pretending to edit and catch up with emails (left largely ignored, and definitely unanswered since the day before Playlist Live.) All a convenient excuse in order to give Phil a chance at peace and quiet enough to sleep as long as possible before the meet up and the show that evening, him lying hugging his pillow on the sofa, with Dan sat opposite, in an armchair, startling and ready to jump up any time Phil coughed or moved in his sleep, or if there was a knock on the door. He hadn't been thrilled about the short bursts of filming the crew had wanted to film that day, but in hindsight, the clips had come in handy for the documentary, so it'd proved worth it to be sat stiffly for those few minutes, willing Phil to stay asleep and no one to do so much as breathe audibly, let alone knock into something and disturb his sleep. Truth be told, he’d just been on edge after his own disturbed sleep the night before.

Sensible idea though it might have been in theory, lying curled up in a bunk that seemed to be at least two feet shorter than he was, and about a foot narrower than he needed, so either his bum or his knees were hanging over the edge wasn’t going to result in much, if any sleep. And as the night wore on, it seemed to be getting smaller. First lurch from the bus, and he’d be hitting the floor in a tangled mess of sheets, pillows, limbs and probably curtains. He just couldn’t relax. Not alone, and not in that stupid, too-short bunk he’d exiled himself to, leaving Phil to get as much sleep as possible in the bedroom. And why? “So you don’t come down with whatever it is too.” He’d decided to take his chances. On the balance of things, Phil’s main symptoms seemed to be aches and tiredness. Exactly what he'd end up with if he’d stayed lying awake where he currently was all night.

With an exasperated sigh, he’d quietly pushed the curtain aside, then bent almost double, in order to sit up, and swung his legs out over the edge of the bunk. Shuffled forward, then dropped down, careful not to disturb the people in the bunks around him, no doubt sleeping better than he's managing right now, and just as careful to keep his eyes on the floor, in case there was anyone still awake in the lounge area, watching disapprovingly as he crept into their bedroom. (There wasn’t. Not that he’d have cared.) He’s rewarded for his efforts when Phil, seemingly as half-conscious as he’s been all day apart from when they’ve been in front of an audience, turns and burrows into his chest as he slips under the covers. The only response to the affectionately muttered “Did you miss me, you lump” he’d received was his boyfriend nuzzling sleepily between his shoulder and his neck, and he himself had fallen asleep with the fingers of one hand buried in Phil’s hair, the other resting across the arm reaching across his chest.

As a bonus, he hadn’t gotten sick afterwards, either.

The plan had been to film either a mini "Day in the Life" vlog, or possibly another Pokémon Go video for the gaming channel. They hadn't had time to do one whilst they'd been in Australia. If they weren't on stage, meeting fans, or travelling, they'd done their best to hang out with Martyn and Cornelia as much as possible. Just to hang out. They both felt, and had spoken about the little bit of residual guilt over the relatively small amount of time they'd been able to spend together not working whilst they'd been in America. Not that it could be helped with how insanely busy they'd all been, and with sleeping and travelling on different buses, but still. They'd been determined to make up for that on this leg of the tour, and they had managed to spend a fair amount of time together, and had a few fun trips to various places, in between shows. Now they were taking some time away, travelling around a bit on their way home, instead of heading straight back to the UK like Dan and Phil had elected to do. (Not counting the almost-compulsory layover in Hong Kong) Well. That had been the plan. In reality, Phil had collapsed fully dressed onto one of the beds the minute they were in the hotel room, and by the time Dan had finished up in the bathroom, he was deeply sleep. Smiling fondly, Dan had just removed his shoes and covered him over with the throw from his own bed, not wanting to wake Phil just to get him into bed properly. As an afterthought, he removed his boyfriend’s glasses, and carefully placed them on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water and a couple of the snacks he'd hidden away in his bag earlier, before getting into bed himself and quickly falling asleep.

When he woke up, after the momentary ‘where am I, what day is it, what’s happening’ panic of waking in yet another strange place yet again this year had subsided, he’d checked on Phil. The water bottle had been open and half-drained at some point, and the clothes he’d travelled in yesterday were dumped in a pile on the floor, but the man himself seemed to be back asleep. Smiling with relief, Dan had grabbed his toiletries bag from his case and gone into the bathroom for a shower, after brushing a quick kiss on Phil’s slightly-too-warm temple.

He hadn’t intended on waking his boyfriend, but best laid plans… Dan burst back into the bedroom, keen to ascertain how Phil was feeling, and if needed, how he could improve matters before their flight back to London.

“So. On a scale of sniffles to post-Playlist-Georgia-death-plague, how bad is it really?” He quips, reaching over from where he’s sat on his unmade bed to hand Phil the glasses his scrunched-up-eyes are looking for. Instead of thanks, Phil just tries to frown at him, before he winces, and a genuine frown settles on his paler-than-usual face. “Daa-aan. Just go catch a bloody Farfetch’d and leave me in peace to die.” Aha. Not all the things Dan had said to a semi-cognisant Phil had disappeared, it seemed. He’d held onto some of it at least, no matter if he looked pretty awful still, truth be told. “Headache? You want a drink? There’s coffee on the side, but I can fill your water bottle if you want...?” He watches as the frown intensifies, along with a definite downturn of the lips as Phil settles back against the headboard, pulling up the duvet to his shoulders. “Is that you saying it’s bad enough I need to bring you back some of those natural locally produced remedies we saw on the way out here.”

“You’re the wor-" The rest of the sentence is drowned in another coughing fit. Dan waits until it passes, not wanting his response to go unheard.

“Right. Cough medicine with added beetles and centipedes.”

“I’d honestly rather die” replies Phil, grimacing exaggeratedly, clutching his chest for added effect, before sticking out his tongue at Dan.

“Well, before you do, put this on and sit up whilst I film an intro before I go sacrifice my hair to get you some medicine. It’s so humid out there Phil, you don’t understand.”

“You’ll attract all the Tangelas then. Get loads of candies.”

“Yep, and in ten years if they ever update the game properly I’ll be able to evolve it.” He finishes, brandishing his phone in a still-shirtless Phil’s general direction as if it were a threat. “Now c’mon. No nipples on the gaming channel. Imagine the uproar if the little kids saw AmazingPhil all semi-naked…!” He’s still half-laughing as he starts filming the intro to the video.

#phanfiction #phanfic

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flighty37-blog · 7 years

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I Propose This

Summary: After 8 years Martyn proposes to Cornelia. A Stag Party, and A Hen Party commence. Let’s see how this goes. Shall we?

Disclaimer: I do not own the people in the story. They own themselves.

Warning: Some swearing.

Rating: PG-R.

Martyn gazed at Cornelia. She was humming to herself. Shifting the omnichord's buttons, and switches. He was tapping out a solo on the wall with his drumstick, keeping in perfect time with her. Having an impromptu duet. She looked up at him and set aside the instrument.

She blew him a kiss. He caught it with his free hand. She was what he desired most in a person. Talented, clever, beautiful beyond belief, and totally in love with him. She said, once, that she was physically hurting when they were apart. They'd only been apart so little, he could count on his hand how many times. She nearly always dragged him on tour.

But even tours had dwindled, not because she hated them, but because she and Martyn were running the IRL store, and running several online businesses. Busy. Busy. BUSY!!!! Martyn, DJ'd on the side, mostly on the weekends. Or even on Bank Holidays. He shrugged himself off of the wall, and walked over to Cornelia, and she looked up at him.

In turn she admired his height, his crinkly blue eyes, his reddish brown hair, and the gangliness. He also had a superb sense of humour. Humour, he mostly got from his mother, and some from his father. All around a very nice man. And he was hers. All hers. They were tight knit, secretive, nobody knew how they'd met.

She rose from the sofa, and she encircled her arms around his thin waist, and looked up at him. He grinned down at her.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" He bent down to kiss her luscious mouth.

"Hmmm you've been a 'very good boy' whilst I've been trying to come up with a new edgy song. But all I can think of, are, sappy love songs. That's not me. I'm not Alanis Morrisette or, or, Taylor Swift!" She laid her head against the lower part of his chest.

He grinned at her, and he scooped her up in his arms. She was bridal style, and he gazed into her robin's egg blue eyes.

"Blue eyes seem to run in the family," Martyn whispered in her ear.

"But Dan's got brown eyes," Cornelia mock argued. "He's full of shit," Martyn grinned.

"He really is, and his poor tattered, dark, soul," She murmured in a mock sad way.

"He cheers up when we're all six together," Martyn reminded her.

"Because Catherine, brings out his wholesome side. She refuses to let his nihilist side get out," Cornelia answered. Catherine was the mother hen.

The overprotective parent. Nigel was the one who made sure that they were all accounted for, and that Catherine had nothing to worry about. He was the one who silently coached on the sidelines. Offering sage advice when he could. Nigel was the silent partner.

"You're quiet like Nigel is sometimes. But most of the time, and especially when you're around Phil, you're loud and boisterous. When you're with me, like now, your quietness prevails," Cornelia noted.

"Because Phil is my little brother. He needs to be teased. Likewise Dan," Martyn said, assuming the big brother persona, whenever Dan and Phil were mentioned; or even in the same room.

Banter was the gamut which was always there, whenever the four were even in the same vicinity. However she and Phil had similar interests. Space for one. Likewise Martyn and Dan loved Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, and even some Facebook. Social media was what they could both agree on.

"You're ignoring me, and my arms are getting tired of being around your neck," Cornelia wiggled out of his grasp and stood next to him.

"Sorry. I was just thinking of our quirky family," Martyn answered.

"Me too," Cornelia nodded.

"You and Dan completed this family. So far," Martyn piped up.

"Oh?" Cornelia raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah...." Martyn scratched the back of his neck.

"I-I've...." His voice trailed off. "I've gotta call Dad!" He sprinted to their room, and he searched for his phone. Which was silly, because his phone was in his jeans pocket. He rang Phil.

"Yeah?" Phil's mouth was full.

"At a time like this you're going to eat cereal?" Martyn admonished.

"Yeah because I'm hungry and Dan's on holiday," Phil responded.

"So you're eating Dan's cereal out of obligation that since he's on holiday someone's got to eat his cereal; and since you're the only one in the flat it's got to be you?" Martyn questioned.

"Ummm yeah," Phil mumbled.

"Oh," Martyn said.

"What'd you call me for? Yuri On Ice is on, and I want to see this episode. It's been a story arc. I want to see how it ends. Yuri and Victor kissed, and then they were in front of a roaring fire in some snowed in cabin....Then...Poof! Cliffhanger," Phil said, flinging in some Americanisms into his announcement.

"Uh-huh....Anyway....Phil?" Martyn hedged.

That caught Phil's attention. Out of the two of them, Martyn was the most boisterous, out going, one. He'd been on the football team. He'd been very athletic. "PhilIWantToMarryCornelia!" Martyn said in one breath.

Phil choked on his cereal, "You want to what?!" Phil coughed and then he breathed in and out a little, using his 'Nose-ga'. "Run that by me one more time? Except slower and more breaths," Phil urged, putting aside his food.

"I. Want. To. Marry....Cornelia!" Martyn managed.

"You're practically married to her anyway," Phil said.

"Well yeah, but....I want to make it official. On paper. The old fashioned way. Her the bride, me the groom. Nothing formal. Just. Us. And you. And Mum and Dad. And Dan. And...." Martyn paused for a breath.

"Are you serious?" Phil asked.

"Eight years worth," Martyn affirmed.

"Have you mentioned this to Mum and Dad yet? Mum's ready to plan a wedding," Phil said.

"I know she is. But, we're not traditional people Phil. We're....Wayward," Martyn answered, doubt creeping into his voice.

"Marty....Mart....I think it's a great idea. As your brother I say 'hell yeah'," Phil congratulated. Martyn smiled a little and answered,

"Thanks Bro." "Well I'm always cheering you on, the same as you're cheering me on... All the time," Phil replied.

"I'll call Dad. He's usually calm. Maybe he'll break the news to Mum?" Martyn mused.

"Mum'll tell everyone! She can't lie to Cornelia. She can't lie at all!" Phil sounded mortified.

"It's not lying if you keep it a secret Phil," Martyn's voice was stern.

"My lips are zipped," Phil promised.

"If you Skype Dan, I will kill your houseplants," Martyn threatened.

"They don't need anymore help dying! I kill them without help," Phil protested.

"Fine, I'm stealing the guinea pig, Lion, and Dan's teddy bear he's had since birth," Martyn threatened.

"Uhhh no! Not, 'The Bear'!" Phil was mortified.

"I will too! I will hold them all hostage and I will not let them go," Martyn hissed.

"You're so mean!" Phil gasped out.

"I am the older brother, my threats are for real," Martyn answered.

"Absolutely! So I won't tell, and Dan won't know, unless you tell him; but don't worry," Phil promised again.

"Who's worried?" Martyn tried to be stoic.

"Not you. You're definitely not worried, I can tell," Phil acknowledged.

"I'm that good," Martyn answered.

"You really are; I'm gonna get back to my anime, you call Dad. Text me the good news. And get her a good ring. A ring she'll be proud of," Phil advised.

"What about...." Martyn paused, and shook his head.

"Something that reflects her personality. Her favourite colour....Her birthstone maybe?" Phil suggested.

"Right. Right...." Martyn wrote down the suggestions on a lonely scrap of paper.

"I'm gonna hang up now...." Phil let the sentence trail off.

"Yeah...Umm...Yeah you do that. I'm gonna; what am I doing?" Martyn asked.

"Ringing Dad," Phil reminded him. It was weird that Phil was being the calming brother now. It felt strange that the roles were reversed.

"Alright then. I'll get right on it," Martyn answered and hung up the phone.

"Rude," Phil said into the dial tone. He hung up as well and turned up the television's volume. Martyn rang his dad.

"Hello?" Nigel sounded surprised.

"Hi Dad," Martyn was quieter than normal.

"Martyn? Is something wrong? Are you ill; Is it Cornelia? Do you need your mother? She's in town doing the shopping at the moment, but I could ring her," Nigel was suddenly on the alert.

Usually it was Dan or Phil that needed Catherine's extra attention.

"No, Dad, I'm not ill. How did you propose to Mum?" Martyn wondered.

"That's an odd question; you've never been interested before...." Nigel's voice trailed off.

"Was it romantic? Spur of the moment? Did you hang from a tree and hand her a ring box?" Martyn's questions rushed forth.

He grinned to himself.

"Again, knowing our family to be an odd sort, though traditional, I took her out," Nigel started.

"Where did you take her?" Martyn was curious now.

"Where did I take her? I believe I took her to an amusement park. But I forget exactly where. It was such a long time ago. We had been 'dating', as you young people say, for about three years. I knew I wanted her in my life forever. You, you my boy, have outdone me. Eight years...." Nigel marveled.

"It's easy if it's with the right person. Yeah?" Martyn asked.

"It's not 'easy' per se'. You just learn, and adjust. You learn and you grow," Nigel sagely advised.

"I was thinking of getting her an amethyst ring...." Martyn paused again.

"Her birthstone? Good start. But make it as 'Cornelia like' as possible," Nigel answered.

"I will; probably a ring that looks like a piece of coral or summat like that," Martyn's Northern was peeking out. Same as Phil's did, when they talked to either of their parents.

"I commend you," Nigel answered. A compliment. His father had given him a compliment. He grinned.

Just then Cornelia called from the next room, "Martyn? Where are you?!"

"I have to go! Thanks for the advice and lending me an ear," Martyn smiled a little.

"Anytime. When do I get to tell your mother?" Nigel asked.

"When the deed's finished," Martyn answered.

"Alright let me know," Nigel said. "I will," Martyn assured his father.

"Good luck Son!" Nigel said.

"Thanks again Dad," Martyn answered.

They said their goodbyes and Martyn went on the internet. He scrolled through images of amethyst rings, and found just the one. He ordered it, and then he went to see his gorgeous woman. When he appeared, her face was wreathed in smiles.

"There's this concert...." Her voice trailed off.

"When?" Martyn asked. It might not be an amusement park, but when it came to the Lester family, being spontaneous was always a given.

"Next week?" Cornelia said, she looked quizzically at him, and snapped her fingers under his nose.

"Huh? Yeah? What?" Martyn asked.

"Are you okay? Are you over worked? Do you need a holiday?" Cornelia was worried.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine. Really. I'm fine...." Martyn's voice trailed off.

"Okay then," Cornelia hugged him just to make sure.

"So a concert?" Martyn asked, bringing the subject back up.

"Right. Yes. The concert...." Cornelia showed him when and where it was at.

The following week. Perfect, that's when the ring would arrive. He nodded.

Then he spoke, "We can go. We'll have to clear our schedules. But I wouldn't mind getting out of London for a bit. Bristol is perfect," Martyn acknowledged.

It was a local band, which he didn't mind because he supported small bands.

"Great....Be ready to dance hard," Cornelia smirked at him.

"Oh I'll be the readiest!" Martyn answered and hugged her tightly to him.

She grinned and crooked a finger at him. "Hey Martyn? Want to play a game?"

She grabbed his shirt collar and led him to their room. As if he were wearing a collar and lead.

"I'm for it," Martyn answered.

"Good," Cornelia whispered to him, sending shivers up and down his spine. As if he were in ASMR.

The next week:

They were both dressed head to toe in black. Ripped jeans, semi ripped shirts, and Martyn was wearing a black hat for the occasion.

"You look like a rock star," Cornelia approved.

Martyn grinned at her, "But you'll be the sexiest one there."

She slapped his arm in a playful gesture. He made sure the object he was carrying was safe in the bag he had on his shoulders.

"Let's go!" Martyn made a show of looking for and finding his phone, and they drove to Bristol.

"It's not my birthday, we're not promoting anything, I feel like a naughty school girl skipping class," Cornelia was very giddy.

It had been a very long time since they'd just done something with only the two of them. In a little over two hours they'd be there. They arrived at an abandoned steel mill. There were fireworks going on. A basic rave. The DJ in him wanted to find the music and spin. But he refrained. He had a more important task ahead.

He didn't know when he would propose, but he knew that the time would be right, whatever happened. They entered amongst a writhing sea of humanity. Slipping in, and keeping a hold on Cornelia, to make sure nobody got lost in the crowd. The music was blaring and the band looked typical.

Black everything. Black seemed to be the (non) colour of choice tonight. Oh well.

"Let's Dance!" Cornelia had to shout above the music and the crowd's voices intermingling with each other.

They found the mosh pit, and started to vigorously shake their bodies. Keeping close together, but enjoying the raucous sounds. Martyn didn't think it could get any better. He had the love of his life right there, and he had the ring. And then the opportunity presented itself.

The band went into a semi-slow song, and he took her in his arms. Wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her closer to him, he led her to an empty seat, and sat her down. He took out the box, and he got down on one knee. Her eyes started glistening and she nodded.

He asked, "Will you do me the honour of making it official?"

He opened the box and she gasped.

"It looks like a piece of coral," she whispered.

"And look at the setting...." He urged.

"Amethyst. My birthstone," she answered.

"I know," he replied and kissed her temple.

Then he put her in his arms, and sat down in the chair. She was now sitting on his lap wearing the ring.

"It's gorgeous, and it fits just right....But we don't have to get married right away. Do we?" Cornelia asked.

"No, but I wanted to be 'official'. You know?" Martyn spoke up.

"Of course. You do know why I don't want a grand wedding?" She questioned.

"You're asking me now?" Martyn furrowed his brows, as the tempo in the music rose slightly again.

"Yes. I told you when we got together," Cornelia answered.

"It was when you were seventeen and Roger asked you to marry him. You said yes right from the start, and then when all the preparations had happened, and the day was there, he got together with the drummer and left on your honeymoon ticket," Martyn answered.

"Very good," Cornelia said.

"I remember. I listen," Martyn answered and kissed the side of her lips. She obediently turned and they kissed lips to lips.

"You're my favourite," He whispered.

"And you're my favourite too," she smiled at him.

"Let's dance some more," She stood and pulled him back into the pit. The ring flashing from her finger.

Three weeks later:

"When?!" Catherine's excited voice made Cornelia pull the phone from her ear.

"I don't know. We haven't set a date," Cornelia answered.

"Not set a date?!" Catherine seemed puzzled and excited at the same time.

"Well no, we've waited this long. We can wait another few months," Cornelia hesitantly answered.

"Does your mother know? I have to talk to her," Catherine rambled on.

"Moder knows," Cornelia quietly affirmed.

"Before me?" Catherine asked.

"A bit before," Cornelia said, it had in fact, been the conversation before Catherine.

Another conversation happening in the other side of the flat:

It was a three way conversation. Skype with Dan and Phil, and Facetime with Nigel. "The proposal was magical!” Martyn enthused, he was practically glowing.

"SPILL!" Dan urged.

"We want all the details," Phil put in.

"At your own pace of course," Nigel quietly said.

"Pics! Pics! PICS!" Dan and Phil chanted.

"Of course I took pics," Martyn rolled his eyes.

"I should hope the moment was well documented," Nigel poshly put in.

"Daaaddd!" Phil groaned.

"You're so old fashioned, nobody says 'well documented' anymore," Dan said.

"I do!" Nigel brusquely answered.

"Well you're old," Phil said.

"Hey!" Nigel groused, but he grinned a little, and Martyn held up the phone so that the two on Skype could see that Nigel was having a big laugh.

"Anyway...." Martyn forwarded the pics to everyone.

"Who took them? And the video?" Phil mused.

"There's a video?!" Martyn yelped.

"Uh-huh," Phil said.

"She looks great in black. I'm telling you, black is where it's at," Dan said in an approving voice.

"That's my fiancee' you're mooning over, you prat!" Martyn reprimanded.

"She's my sister, and I have to approve the outfits," Dan argued.

"You're not a fashion consultant," Martyn good naturedly argued back.

"I could be," Dan said.

"Oooohhhh Next Channel! Dan Howell, Fashion Guru!" Phil clapped his hands and smiled broadly.

"Yeeeaaahhhh...." Dan nodded.

Martyn rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, "Focus! Me! Not you two dorks!"

"Right. Ahem. Sorry...." Both said at the same time. Near perfect synchronicity. He shook his head. "So we haven't decided on a date, or a venue yet. But we're getting there," Martyn said.

Cornelia's part of the flat:

"Oh my god! The ring is gorgeous. It looks like he went to the seaside and he picked up a piece of amethyst and coral, and made a ring," Catherine gushed at the recent pic that Cornelia had forwarded to her.

"I know!" Cornelia squealed, in almost typical girly fashion.

"I need some more pictures," Catherine bemoaned.

"You're in luck. Martyn and I got a lot of pictures of ourselves right after I'd said yes. And Yes, I am showing off the ring for all to see," Cornelia forwarded the pics to Catherine's phone, and ultimately the video.

"A video?" Catherine asked.

"A short one. Apparently someone caught the moment when he proposed. It couldn't have gone better. What with the metal band, and the mosh pit, I couldn't have asked for a better proposal," Cornelia said.

"I couldn't be happier," Catherine said.

"You will when we figure out the date for the event, and the venue," Cornelia said.

"I won't push. I'm not some stage mother that wants everything for her children, so she can live vicariously through them," Catherine said.

"Precisely why I love you!" Cornelia gushed some more.

"Are you having a hen party?" Catherine asked.

"That is a definite yes," Cornelia acquiesced.

"And I reckon the boys are going for a stag party?" Catherine mused.

"Most likely, but seeing as we don't normally drink, I don't think there will be much alcohol," Cornelia assured her practically mother in law. Almost official mother in law, she supposed.

The lads conversation:

"Stag party?" Dan asked.

"I'm not drinking," Phil protested.

"It could be a half non-alcoholic party," Dan suggested.

"Hmmm....Good idea," Phil nodded.

"I have great ideas. You just like to ignore me," Dan argued good naturedly.

"Hello!" Martyn interrupted.

"Oh yeah it's Martyn's stag party. Me and Phil are gonna have a joint stag party. Our significant others will just have to deal with it," Dan said.

"Yeah we decided that we wanna party together. I mean we've done everything else together. Why not a stag party? It's still gonna be non-alcoholic," Phil answered.

"Partly non-alcoholic," Dan chimed in.

"Of course. Someone's gotta be sober enough to get you home before the big event," Phil added.

"AHEM!!" Nigel and Martyn interrupted again.

"Right....Youuuu...." Dan dragged out the word you, and pretended to look like he was listening. Phil was sat at full attention in his computer chair.

"Yeah me, and if we're going to do a 'stag party', it's gonna be done my way. I'm going to DJ it, and we will have games and a band...." Martyn outlined.

"Drinks?" Dan said.

"You're such an alcoholic," Phil interrupted.

"I like a good drink," Dan retorted.

"FOCUS!" Nigel yelped out.

"Woah!" Dan jumped a little.

"Ha! My dad jump scared you," Phil smiled a little.

"My heart is beating like a thousand butterflies are trapped inside me," Dan answered.

"Gosh that was poetic," Phil said.

"Oh my god! You guys!" Martyn snapped his fingers with both hands.

"Right, focus, you," Dan said, and nudged Phil.

"We're fully attentive to your needs Mart," Phil tried to sound sophisticated.

Martyn rolled his eyes.

"Like I was saying, I want to DJ it, I want to pick the music, and I want there to be snacks. Loads of snacks. No strippers, no cocaine, just us, lads, having a great time. And Dad too!" Martyn interjected.

"Me? I'll just hold you down. I'm too old," Nigel interrupted.

"Dad, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't exist. And if I didn't exist, you wouldn't have Cornelia. Now does that seem right to you?" Martyn answered, and Nigel grinned widely.

"And if I didn't exist, Phil probably wouldn't exist either," Martyn continued.

"That's such a sad thought," Phil opined.

"That's deep and scary," Dan chimed in.

"Are you going to have an existential crisis?" Phil worriedly asked.

"No, I'm tough," Dan stoutly answered.

"No tangents. We're planning," Martyn said.

"The way you two act, you're lucky you're even getting invites," Martyn jokingly admonished.

"That's so harsh," Phil said.

"You're so mean Martyn," Dan responded

"Now Martyn...." Nigel chided softly.

"Alright, alright, you can be the bouncers, since Phil's like Thor," Martyn answered, but winked to show he was joking.

"YES! My life's ambition besides being a weatherman, Thor!" Phil flexed.

"Don't encourage him. I have to live with him. He's a right terror," Dan sighed heavily.

"I am Thor," Phil said.

"Right, yeah, you're Thor; good for you," Dan said.

"YAY!" Phil clapped his hands. Dan put a hand over his face. Martyn outlined what all he wanted at the party.

Cornelia, Catherine, Susan, and Ebba (Cornelia's mother):

"Moder, Mum, Susan...." Cornelia trilled.

"Halla', Halla' min dotter (hello, hello, my daughter)," Ebba said.

"Hello my darling, I know you're not dating my son, but since Phil's practically family so are you by association," Susan Howell said.

"Hello again Nikki," Catherine trilled.

"I love that I can do this four ways, everyone can see each other and, at least, hear each other," Cornelia was so excited.

All the important females in her life.

"I'm Here!" A fifth person was added the chat.

"Louise!" Cornelia said.

"And Catrific here," Cat chimed in. She was visiting Louise and they were collaborating.

"I hear congratulations are in order...soooo CONGRATULATIONS!!!!" Louise and Cat said in sync.

"Thank you, thank you," Cornelia flashed the ring.

"Oh my gosh!!!!" Cat said, and put her hands over her mouth.

"That's utterly, ridiculously gorgeous!" Louise put in.

"I agree. Your fiance has great tastes, I only hope my Daniel will have great taste when it comes time for him to pick out a ring," Susan said.

"Is he dating yet?" Catherine asked.

"Not yet, but when he does and when, if they're together long enough and after he worries about asking them to marry him, then," Susan paused.

"I want to help!" Catherine said.

"Oh don't worry, I will need your help. After I've fainted of course," Susan assured her.

"I'll bring the smelling salts," Catherine assured her.

"I can't wait," Susan answered wryly.

"Ummm....?" Cornelia put in.

"Oh, sorry," Catherine waved, as Susan gave her, her full attention.

"Right, so I was thinking for a hen party, instead of the traditional going out, we have a bit like a baby shower, but it'll be a 'wedding shower'," Cornelia outlined.

"Wonderful idea," Catherine said.

"That's a unique idea," Louise said.

"I like it. Gifts?" Cat asked.

"Some gifts, some drinks, snacks, music, I can play some of my original stuff," Cornelia said.

"Karaoke?" Susan asked. "But of course," Cornelia nodded.

"Sounds divine," Louise said.

"I'll fly back just for the occasion," Cat promised.

"I want everyone I'm close to, to be here," Cornelia said.

"I'm baking," Catherine said.

"I'll cook a roast or something," Susan volunteered.

"I'll have it on a Sunday for it to properly be a roast day. But not a big roast. Make something vegetarian," Cornelia said.

"It'll smell like a roast, but it won't be a roast. I know what your preferences are. Catherine's told me," Susan interjected.

"Of course she has," Cornelia nodded.

"I had to, she wanted to know what you ate, and how you stayed so slim and trim," Catherine said.

"I fully support your decision," Ebba added.

"You raised me vegetarian Mama," Cornelia smiled.

"Well anyway...." Catherine said.

"Right....I'll e-mail everyone the time and day, the place will be here," Cornelia said. "Right," All five women answered.

Martyn's conversation:

"So the place will probably be somewhere private," Martyn said.

"Have it at our place," Dan volunteered.

"Wh-What?!" Phil squeaked out.

"C'mon Philly, you'll know all the guests, and it's a controlled environment, we won't have to go outside," Dan suggested.

"I'm liking it, I'm warming up to this idea," Phil agreed.

"Sounds good to me," Martyn said.

"Me too," Nigel offered.

"Great, I'll just e-mail everyone a date and time," Martyn answered.

"Great," they said, and Martyn's call ended.

Convening together in the lounge:

"So about my stag party," Martyn began.

"Yes?" Cornelia was all ears.

"We're going to have it at Dan and Phil's," Martyn said.

"Definitely a safe environment," Cornelia agreed.

"Are you having a 'hen party'?" Martyn asked.

"But of course, and we've all decided, Louise, Cat, Moder, Catherine, Susan, to have it here," Cornelia answered.

"Approved," Martyn said.

"So we don't have to worry about the other being somewhere strange, and no strange girls throwing themselves at you," Cornelia said.

"No strange guys asking to buy you drinks, or look at you with lustful eyes," Martyn said, and sighed with relief.

"I'm not interested in them. I'm interested in you," Cornelia answered.

"Same here. I'm not interested in other women. I love you, and you alone," Martyn intoned.

"This is why I love you, this is why I've spent eight years with you. You are a one of a kind man. You've been brought up well," Cornelia said.

"Thank my parents," Martyn said.

"I thank them every single day I'm with you," Cornelia answered.

"I love you!" Martyn answered, and the two kissed.

Stag Party, some night:

As instructed, Martyn was the DJ and he was rolling out all the hits. He shook his head, that was too old of a saying. Plus it sounded American in his head.

"And here's another one," Martyn announced.

In the corner of the room, Dan and Phil were chatting to each other, like usual; even in their own flat they were antisocial. He smiled to himself and shook his head. Nigel was chatting up PJ and, even Chris had come from 'Oop Norf'.

It had been a long time since they'd come 'round. PJ eventually wandered over to Dan and Phil's little boundary of isolation and stood exactly five feet, and back a little, to better talk to them. There was alcoholic, and nonalcoholic drinks abounding.

"PJ!" Chris bounded over him.

"Yeah?" PJ looked over at Chris.

"This party is....Jumping!" Chris said.

"You've had too much to drink," PJ gently took the glass from his friend.

Dan and Phil started laughing good naturedly.

"Of course it's jumping, Martyn's officially getting married," Phil responded.

"After eight long years, she finally got a ring," Dan opined.

"It's a hell of a ring. It looks like something the seaside washed up," Phil said.

"You said 'hell'," Chris pretended to be shocked.

"He says 'hell' a lot," PJ reminded him.

"Right, shit, fuck, and damn are off limit words," Dan answered.

"Those are words you use, they're your brand," Phil retorted.

As the four chatted, Martyn found Nigel. He looked out of place, but he was still having fun, as he meandered through the flat and bypassing the few young people that were there.

"Are you okay Dad? Do you want me to ring Mum? Maybe it'll be better over at our flat. You'll know everyone there. And Mum misses you, I reckon," Martyn offered.

"I'm fine. I'm enjoying the music. Not my preference mind you, but I'm enjoying this very much," Nigel assured his eldest.

"Leave the party to the women, while we 'stag it up'?" Martyn guessed rightly. "

Absolutely, I'm not a hen, yet, Son," Nigel retorted, and he started swaying a bit to the music that was blaring from the stereo now.

"Dad, you're one of a kind. I'm glad Mum ended up with you," Martyn clapped his father's shoulder.

"Thank you?" Nigel smiled.

The 'Hen Party':

"The music is so nice," Cat said.

"I like it, it makes me think of when I was pregnant with Iona," Louise answered.

"She's already what? Three months? Four?" Cornelia had sidled up next to Cat and Louise.

"My word no, she's nearly six months old....Poor Liam. He's all 'My baby isn't a baby anymore'. I have to keep telling him that he hasn't experienced life with a daughter until she's at least ten-fourteen. Then she'll really not be a baby anymore. He still needs to master nappy changing," Louise laughed.

The others laughed with her.

"He wants a boy, I know he does. He won't say so outright, but he wants a little boy. Sometimes traditions still crop up their ugly heads," Louise sighed.

The conversation turned to traditions, and labels and everything that shouldn't be allowed. The gifts were as expected, a blender, a toaster, a tablet. "Oh Damn, this is some nice stuff," Cornelia kept her language under control for the most part. Susan and Catherine just smiled, and handed over their gifts.

"It's not much, and I know that paper is becoming obsolete, but I always enjoyed the stationery set I got for my hen party," Susan offered.

"Susan, you're a sweetheart, it's gold embossed, I love the pen! I'll find a use for it. Perhaps it'll be my golden muse and I'll write songs on it?" Cornelia gave Susan a wink.

Susan pinked up, she and Dan were easily embarrassed. She gave Susan a hug.

"I only brought a kettle. You'll need a nice one when you've married," Catherine smiled at her.

"Thank you," Cornelia added it to the pile.

"Who got me the negligee? Was it you Louise?" Cornelia laughed, as Louise vehemently shook her head, and pointed at Cat. Cornelia raised an eyebrow.

At The Stag Party as it started to wind down:

"The Food Is To Die For!" Dan said, as he went for his fourth plate of sides, he had his 'food orgasm' face on.

"Leave some for the rest of the people," Martyn said, as he stood beside Dan filling up his own plate.

"What people? Oh you mean Phil? Well it's payback being a bitch, because he eats my cereal. Every day," Dan answered and nodded furiously.

"Okay, okay, stop nodding; your head'll fall off," Martyn said.

"Anyway," Dan topped off his drink and went back to the corner, by the buffet table. Phil appeared next to his brother.

"Should've known, whenever a wild Dan appears, so doth a wild Phil," Martyn grinned at his younger brother.

"Guilty. I needed a refresher. This food is Delicious!" Phil exclaimed.

"Funny your almost clone said nearly the exact same thing," Martyn replied.

"For real?" Phil asked, as if he should still be surprised.

"Yep. Except he said, and this is a direct quote; 'the food is to die for'," Martyn mimicked Dan's posh accent.

"He would mention death whilst eating his fill," Phil shook his head and also topped off his Shirley Temple fruit drink.

"He's Dan; if he doesn't mention death at least once, I know something's horrifically wrong," Martyn joked.

"That and his 'dark and dreadful soul," Phil added.

"That too," Martyn clapped Phil's shoulder, nearly making him collide into the table. He ultimately stubbed a toe.

"Ow!" Phil winced.

"Hey watch it there....You okay? I didn't mean to," Martyn apologised.

"It's okay. I'm a klutz remember?" Phil laughed a little.

"So's Dan," Martyn nodded.

"Well we're two peas," Phil affirmed.

"That you are. You could almost be twins," his older brother joked.

Phil gave him a mock frown and walked away to sit beside his best friend.

"After you...." Martyn mused and his thoughts went back to his beautiful fiancee'. How was she faring without him? Sure they weren't that codependent on each other. Not like the two youngests.

He smirked and pulled out his phone and rang her. "Hello, Cornelia's hen party," a slightly less posh girlish voice sounded. Definitely not Cornelia.

"Is Cornelia there?" Martyn asked.

"Who wants to know?" the girl asked, she was giggling a bit now.

"Louise, my mobile if you please!" Cornelia's voice drifted over.

"It's me, Martyn," he finally replied.

Just then Cornelia came on the line, "Martyn is everything okay? Are you okay? Are you drunk? How drunk is everyone else?" Cornelia's questions were rapid fire, as Martyn looked about the room.

Chris and PJ were a bit tipsy. Tipsy enough, that they were sharing a drink with two straws.

"I'm not tipsy at all," Martyn said.

"Not even a bit?" Cornelia questioned.

"A bit, Phil's on his sixth Shirley Temple with lots of fruit mixed into it," Martyn answered.

"My Fourth!" Phil yelled out, as Dan covered his face in his hand and shook his head.

"His fourth," Martyn was smiling a little bit more.

"Well, in that case, we're mostly going non-alcoholic. Sophie brought some champagne," Cornelia admitted.

"Good ol' Soph, she and PJ will be tying the knot any time soon," Martyn spoke up.

"Don't you jinx anything Lester," Cornelia quipped.

"I won't....When's the hen thing going to be over? I just want to cuddle with you, and play with your curls," Martyn sighed.

"In another couple of hours. Can you hang on for a little while longer?" Cornelia asked.

"Yes, but I'm going to shut everything down in exactly two hours," Martyn petulantly answered.

"Fine by me, I can't wait to have you all to myself," Cornelia almost cooed in his ear.

They said goodbye and their 'I Love You's. Then Martyn had to be a host again.

"Oooo what'd Cornelia say?" Phil spoke up.

"She said 'mind your own business Phil Lester'," Martyn affected a high 'girl' voice.

"No she didn't," Phil bickered back.

"You didn't talk to her, did you?" Martyn said, and reached out to ruffle Phil's hair.

"Stop it!" Phil grunted.

"Stop it," Martyn mocked 'big brother style'.

"I hate you," Phil pouted, the lower lip coming out full force.

"You deserved it for getting into Martyn's personal business," Dan piped up.

"Thank you Dan," Martyn walked away.

Nigel sidled up to him, putting his mobile into his back pocket.

"What'd Mum say?" Martyn whispered to his father.

"She misses me, and she loves me. How are her babies? Are they drunk? They'd better not be too drunk. How's Martyn holding up? Has the Stag gotten out of hand? You know stuff like that," Nigel shook his head, but he was smiling widely.

"I'm giving this shindig a couple more hours, then I'm going back to my woman," Martyn nodded.

"Same here. I miss the hell out of your mother," Nigel clapped his son on the back, and wandered over to where Dan and Phil were seated, whispering in each other's ears.

"Two hours and it's all gonna be shut down," Martyn whispered amongst their whispers.

"Finally! I need some anime me time," Dan said.

"I need the internet," Phil answered.

"Switch answers, I need internet, he needs anime," Dan said.

"Stop stealing my wants," Phil groused.

"What?!" Dan gave him a confused look.

"Nothing," Phil mumbled as Martyn walked away.

Exactly two hours later....

"MARTY!!!!" She sprang into his already opened arms, and cuddled against him, somewhat like a cat.

She was practically vibrating and purring. They did an Eskimo kiss with their noses.

"Female friends are alright, but having you all to myself again...." She mumbled against him, nibbling his earlobe.

"Nelia!" He whispered against her, and kissed her cheek. She turned glowing eyes on him, and she kissed him fully on the lips.

"The party was fun," she adjusted herself, so that her legs were wrapped around his torso. "But then again, you're a lot more fun," She nuzzled him again, breathing in his sweaty, yet aromatic scent.

"You smell divine," She chattered.

"That's where you and I differ," Martyn rubbed a finger against her cheek, and she closed her eyes and let the sensations sweep over her, she sighed in contentment.

"You're a lot more fun than I'll ever be," Martyn whispered so, and sent shivers up and down her spine.

"You're more than a dream...." She murmured, lying her head on his heart. Wishing for him to never leave her. She studied the ring on her finger.

"Why was I so afraid of marriage? And why am I nervous wreck now?" Cornelia wondered aloud.

"Because of Roger and the drummer....Who apparently was pretty hot," Martyn grinned down at her, their noses touched, their eyes locked. They were the only two people in the whole world. Nobody else mattered.

"The drummer had no gender," Cornelia whispered.

“Hmmm...." Martyn seemed to consider things.

"Let's go to bed, I'm suddenly very tired, I ate my fill and I interacted with people that weren't our brothers," Cornelia yawned for effect.

"Was Mum too overbearing? How was your whole day? Really," Martyn took them both to the bedroom, and set Cornelia on solid ground.

She quickly changed into some pyjamas. Red ones to match her hair.

"Everyone was lovely, Susan and Catherine were planning Dan's wedding....Should he ever get a significant other," Cornelia smiled.

"And ditch my baby brother?! The nerve!" Martyn pretended to be scandalised.

"They'd Skype each other every day!" Cornelia answered.

"They live in the same flat and text each other without bothering to yell at each other across the flat, like we do," Martyn said.

"Well that's because they're younger and they have this whole technology thing worked out," Cornelia nodded, and pursed her lips for Martyn to kiss. Which he obliged, and they crawled into bed together.

They were both lying on their sides, gazing into each others' eyes, telling each other about their day, without saying a word, both sighing in contentment. Both feeling the love they felt. It intensified every time they were apart, and then came back together like two polarised magnets.

"When we swing back into orbit, we circle each other, and we spin in each other's paths, forever on a pathway through the galaxy of life," Cornelia softly sang.

"Is this something you're thinking of expanding on?" Martyn asked, as Cornelia nodded.

"Our wedding song," Cornelia sniffed and soon her nose, and cheeks became rosy, and she felt the tears falling.

He swiped them away with his thumb, and he kissed every drop away. "Don't cry Nelia. Please don't cry," Martyn said, as his own chest hitched.

"But these are happy tears my love," Cornelia assured him.

"Sing me to sleep?" Martyn closed his eyes.

"I don't want to circle you, I want to embrace you. I want to crash into you like a wrecking ball. Shattering anything that impedes our love. Our insecurities should fade away, and we should just let the love we have encompass ourselves, let the peace flow through us," Cornelia sang once more.

Martyn hummed a tune, and she smiled. They were as perfectly, if not more in sync when they were tired. The more tired they were, the more their spirits seemed to shine through, and by every other definition their love was more visible.

She loved him. Every part of him. She couldn't wait to be with him every morning, every evening and every hour in between. He was the love of her life. No two could be more perfectly suited for each other.

"How deep my love for you runs, like asteroids scattered through the myriad of space, though we veer off course, we'll always find ourselves together, in the same place, abiding in each other's path...." Cornelia tried another verse.

"When I'm with you, I feel freer than the birds at the seaside," Martyn said.

"Good one!" Cornelia hastily wrote it down.

"When I'm down, when I'm out, you pull me through," Martyn said again.

"Your ear for lyrics is astounding," she smiled, and he cracked an eye open.

"I've fine tuned my ear, being with you," Martyn kissed the tip of her nose. She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I love you completely; with or without a ring, I don't care," Martyn said to her.

"But the ring is a wonderful touch. It's got our personalities mixed in.... I like how it looks like a piece of coral, with a shining purple rock on top. It's like a beacon," Cornelia smiled at him.

"A beacon to guide me home," Martyn half-asked.

"But of course," Cornelia said.

"With your spirit shining through it," Martyn ventured.

"Forever and always," Cornelia smiled at him, as the tiredness settled in and they both started to drift off to sleep.

He cuddled her close, against his wiry frame, holding onto her. Not wanting to let her go. He kissed her head, and he smelled her natural deodorant. She never smelled bad. Not even when she had a workout.

She was always smelling so good to him. Like now.

As the amphetamines rushed towards him. The love nerves. He inhaled her neck. She was his. She had been his for eight years. She would always be his.

And no matter when they married, if they even set a date, Cornelia would have that ring as a devoted sign that he, Martyn Nigel Lester was in love with the beautiful, talented world renowned singer, Cornelia Dahlgren. Forever! For Always.... He sighed in contentment and fell asleep beside her.

Almost exactly a year later....

"I'm so excited! I get to be the ring bearer and the best man, and you're the second best man! EEEEEEEE!!!!" Phil was very nearly bouncing all over the room, Dan was holding onto the sleeve of his suit.

"Phil for the thousandth time; you are not the bloody ring bearer. Your cousin twice removed, also called 'Phill', but with two L's instead of one; is the ring bearer. He's the tiny ginger child who tripped over his own shoes, and then pelted you with the pillow during rehearsal," Dan rolled his eyes.

"That was an accident, the pillow went flying after he tripped and then got sick on the ground," Phil remembered.

"But he still was a shoo-in for the ring bearer," Dan said.

"Only because he's the only boy," Phil retorted.

"Little Marta looked so smart in the suit," Dan sighed.

"But gender roles, and mothers," Phil shook his head.

"Tradition," Dan lamented.

"I hate tradition!" Martyn exclaimed.

"We're swapping....MARTA!!!!" Martyn yelped.

Marta, little blonde girl, hair in ringlets, skidded into the room with a poofy white flower girl dress. Martyn took the flower basket from her, and handed her the ring pillow.

"You're now the ring bearer," Martyn said, and then he shoved the basket of petals into Phill's hands.

"You! You are the flower child, Phillip Sandover-Lester!" Martyn announced, his arms open wide as he made the announcement. Little Phill's eyes lit up.

"You're a saint among demons," Dan said.

"You used a religious analogy!" Phil was gobsmacked.

"Damn right I did," Dan said, after covering little Phillip's ears, and Phil had covered little Marta's ears as well.

"Now I can get married!" Martyn continued.

"Let the Hunger Games commence," Dan drolly said.

"I volunteer as tribute," A slight Swedish accent said.

"Do you now my little Swedish meatball?" Martyn turned to the voice, though she wouldn't come out of hiding.

"I most certainly will," Cornelia let out a melodic laugh and then she was gone.

"I'm the Peeta to your Katniss!" Martyn called out, and the laugh, though far away still floated to their ears.

"She certainly knows how to brighten up the day. Doesn't she?" Martyn sighed happily.

"Yeah she does Mart," Dan said, as he let go of Phil's sleeve.

"I'm proud of you," Phil said.

"Thanks," Martyn wiped at one of his eyes.

"Marty! Don't start, I'm a sympathy crier. If you cry, I'll cry. If I cry, Dan will cry, and if Dan cries....Damn near everyone else will start crying," Phil said, as he hugged his brother.

"I wouldn't cry. I don't cry at weddings. And you said damn," Dan argued.

"So I did....Huh....The things that will come out of a thirty-one year old's mouth," Phil drolly answered, and gave a smirk.

"We're not on camera, stop smirking you dolt," Dan shook his head.

"I can smirk if I want. I can do anything I want to," Phil said.

"Oh alright, I'm all for independence and emancipation and all things that defy authority," Dan approved.

"This, this is why you're my best friend," Phil said.

"That and nobody else would have you," Dan joked.

"Awwwww," Phil smiled really big.

"Hello! It's my day!" Martyn called out.

"No it isn't," Dan argued.

"It is," Martyn said.

"I thought it was the bride's day?" Phil mused.

"No gender roles," Dan interrupted the train of thought.

"Right! It's the wedding! Three cheers!" Phil grinned.

"Hip-Hip-Hooray!" Phil started.

"No!" Dan refused.

"Hip-Hooray," Martyn tried. He was nervous. He started pacing about, and he had his hands behind his back. He nodded to a corner of the room, and he muttered something under his breath.

"What's he doing?" Phil asked.

"Probably reciting his vows under his breath," Dan answered and shrugged.

"I've got his vows," Phil said, and then his eyes went wide, as he felt for the piece of paper.

"Do you now?" Dan waggled a piece of paper under his friend's nose.

"Hey give that back!" Phil reached for the paper, but Dan walked away from him.

Just then....

MY BABY!!!! In A Suit No LESS!!!! Come Here So I Can Hug You!" Catherine burst into the room. She had a handkerchief tucked into her sleeve.

"Mum!" Martyn turned to face the force that was his mother and smiled broadly.

Phil came between them and got to Catherine first, "MUMMY!" He joked.

"Stop that," Catherine frowned at him

She gently pushed Phil out of the way and hugged Martyn very hard. "Cornelia is so beautiful," Catherine said.

"Tell me something I don't know," Martyn answered.

"Her wedding outfit is beyond perfection," Catherine assured her son.

"As if it would be anything less?" Martyn smiled.

Cornelia had opted for a pantsuit and a hat with a tiny veil over it. So it merely shielded her eyes. But Martyn didn't know that. Nigel made his way in, and he glanced at the ringbearer in the poofy dress, and then shrugged and pumped Martyn's hand in an excited way.

"Oh, you changed ringbearers," Nigel noticed.

"There aren't going to be any gender roles, or labels," Martyn insisted.

"And Phill really liked the flowers," Phil said.

"Why are you referring to yourself in third person?" Nigel asked.

"I'm not, I'm referring to my cousin twice removed, who has two L's in his name," Phil said.

"The one who threw a pillow at you like an assault weapon?" Nigel asked.

"It was an accident, one tends to have them after you get sick," Phil said.

Nigel rolled his eyes and escorted an excited Catherine out of the room, after shooting Martyn a thumbs' up and a wink.

Soon it Martyn was down in front of the aisle, next to the clergy man, and he awaited his bride. He moved his feet back and forth, and he looked up at the ceiling. Phill jauntily threw flowers down the aisle. Phil gave the little boy a thumbs' up and Dan gave the boy an 'ok' sign with his fingers. Phill blushed.

"I love ginger children....." Phil said.

"You're not kidnapping him and, or, bringing him back to our flat," Dan admonished.

Phil shot him a disappointed look. Dan shook his head, and then came Cornelia holding a single white rose as she carefully walked down the aisle with her father. She was slightly tearing up, and her mouth was trembling. It took all of Martyn's control to not go to her and hold her close to him. He hated seeing her cry.

"I'm alright Martyn," she whispered as she found herself across from him, and he held her hands. They looked into each other's eyes, and smiled demurely at each other.

"I need a handkerchief!" Dan said.

"Me too! Pass the Kleenexes," Phil said.

They reached into their pockets and pulled out some tissues and blew their noses noisily.

"Boys!" Susan shushed them, as Catherine was in a puddle of tears of her own, and Nigel patted her knee in a comforting way.

"The rings please," the clergyman interrupted, trying his best to ignore Dan and Phil.

"Marta?" Phil squatted next to the ringbearer.

She grinned and handed Phil the pillow.

"Thank you!" he neatly undid the rings and for once his klutziness didn't prevail. "AHA!" He gave Cornelia's ring to Martyn.

"Right then," Martyn placed the ring on her finger.

"Your vows?" the clergy urged.

"You're the space to my astronaut, you're the singer to my music, and you're the light of my life. Thanks for choosing me, and letting me marry you," Martyn grinned and she smiled, as she blinked away some tears. He reached out and wiped them from her cheeks with his thumb.

Cornelia placed the other ring on his finger, "Martyn you have brought joy and tallness to my life. You're goofy, coordinated, a damn fine DJ and you make me so happy. Thank you for proposing to me and marrying me."

"That's beautiful...." Dan sniffed.

"The space to my astronaut...." Phil mused.

"Shut up the both of you, I don't need you lads commentating on my ceremony. You do the voiceovers later for the video that's being recorded. Narrating. Remember?" Martyn hissed at them.

"We're gonna be on our best behaviour, starting right now," Dan promised and nudged Phil's ribs.

The clergyman looked at them and shook his head. But Martyn and Cornelia didn't seem too upset, so he continued until, "Do you Martyn Nigel Lester take Anna Maria Cornelia Dahlgren to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Martyn looked over at Dan and Phil, and the rest of the people in attendance; then back to the moment at hand, "I do." Cornelia squeezed his hand.

"And do you Anna Maria Cornelia Dahlgren take Martyn Nigel Lester to be your lawfully wedded husband?" he asked.

"I'll have to ponder that for a moment....Okay moment's over....I do," Cornelia finally answered, much to Martyn's relief.

They were bid to kiss amidst the cheers, the applause and whatever else, they kissed. Then it was time for the reception.

They walked down the aisle first, and then they were all dancing and eating. Dan and Phil were off in the corner, antisocial as usual.

And just as it had always been, family gathered 'round them, and talked over them, at them, and to them. Catherine and Susan were crying and hugging each other. Louise and Cat, still in their bridesmaids' outfits were dancing on the floor. And it was a lovely night had by all.

The End.

#Martyn and Cornelia fanfic

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