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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

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My shy little boy.

summary: y/n's son is too shy to play with other kids at anne's house.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: we all love some dad!harry. I might use this story again for some more blurbs in the future, if you wanna suggest anything i’d be happy to do it! might write something about the first time artemis met anne and gemma...

you can find more of my shy little boy here

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Y/N wasn't entirely sure about this.

At first, she was excited Harry invited her and her son to his mum's birthday, but then he mentioned all his family would be there and she grew nervous.

One thing was Anne and Gemma, two people Y/N and her son had previously met and loved. Artemis was a very shy boy, and it took him a little bit to bond with Harry's mum and sister, but at the end he did. I mean, how could he not? Anne was completely in awe at him, and treated him like a proper grandchild and Gemma often had lunch with Y/N and Artemis in London and bought him ice cream, it was only fair the little boy warmed up to them.

Now in the other hand, she has never met Harry's extended family before. And while she was not ashamed of being a mother whatsoever, she still wanted the approval of his family, and she didn't know what they would think of Harry dating someone with a child.

The party was holding place in Anne's home, which meant they had to make the three hours ride to Harry's hometown in order to get there. Y/N didn't mind at all, and neither did Artemis.

For being a five year old, he was very calm. Y/N blamed it on his shy personality, and although she loved her shy boy, she couldn't help but worry about him being so reserved.

Harry arrived early at Y/N’s home. She was still running around getting both hers and Artemis’ overnight bags, they planned on staying the weekend with Anne as they haven’t seen her in quite some time. Harry stayed with Artemis, who was coloring a book in the living room.

“That’s quite an impressive robot, mate” he said, sitting down on the floor beside the five year old.

“Thank you, Harry” Always so polite, he was.

“Did your mum told you where we’re going?”

“Yes, we’re going to your mum’s house” Artemis finished the robot he was coloring, putting down the crayon. “I bought her a gift!” he said, standing on his feet to be in Harry’s eye level.

“Did ya?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “What did you bought her?”

“It’s a surprise, for her birthday” he said, blushing. Artemis took one step closer to Harry and wrapped his little arms around his neck. “Sorry I took so long to hug you, I was finishing my robot!”

Harry felt how his heart melted for the little boy in front of him. He hugged him back, wrapping his tattooed arms carefully around him. “It’s okay, buddy”

Before either of them could say anything else, Y/N came into the living room carrying a duffel bag with what Harry supposed was their clothes and toiletries. She also had a ‘my neighbor totoro’ backpack that belonged to Artemis. “I think we’re good to go”

“I’ll put this in the car, love” Harry grabbed the bags she was carrying and made his way out of the house.

They walked out of the house and Artemis waited patiently for Y/N to lock the front door then walked towards the backseat of Harry’s SUV so she could put her son in his car seat.

Ever since Harry and Y/N started dating and he became a permanent thing in the little boy’s life, a car seat on his own car was a must for Harry. He had bought it six months into the relationship, claiming it was tiring to carry the car seat from one car to another every time they wanted to go out, when in reality it was his way to tell Y/N he wasn’t planning on going anywhere and he wanted to be as committed to Artemis as he was with her.

“We’ve got a long trip ahead, mate. Are you ready?” Harry asked once they were all in the car.

“Yes. When we arrive, can I please give Anne her gift?” Artemis asked looking at Y/N.

“Of course, you’ll be the one to deliver the present. You picked it and wrapped it for Anne after all, didn’t you?”

The boy nodded excitingly from the backseat, kicking his little legs back and forth. Harry smiled as he looked at Artemis from the rear-view mirror, loving how much effort he put into choosing a gift for his own mum. He found himself wishing he would call Anne ‘nan’, but he understood they haven’t quite gotten there yet.

As he pulled from the drive way he remembered when he first introduced Artemis to Anne and Gemma, the little boy would call the first Mrs. Twist and the second Miss. He thought it was the cutest thing in the world, and Artemis continued to do it a couple more times before Anne convinced him it was okay to call her by her name.

He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, it felt like a lifetime ago when in reality it has only been a year and a half since he started dating Y/N.

“What are you smiling about?” she said, a smile on her own starting to form in her face.

“Do you remember what little monkey here used to call mum?” his accent grew ticker, making Y/N go heart eyes with the way her son’s personal nickname from him rolled out of his tongue.

“Mhm, Mrs. Twist” she giggled, looking back at Artemis who was now watching a movie on Y/N phone. He was wearing some wireless headphones on his head, preventing him from listening to the couple’s conversation. “Took him a while to make him call her Anne”

“Mum’s really excited to see you two” Harry said. “So is Gemma and everyone else”

“The rest of your family knows we’re dating?”

“Well, they have internet, my love” he chuckled. “Also, mum doesn’t stop talking about the lovely lady i’m with”

“You’re right, I am lovely” she smiled innocently at him. Harry rolled his eyes playfully before grabbing one of her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

The rest of the ride went smoothly. They only had to make a quick stop because Artemis needed to go to the bathroom, but they still made it to Holmes Chapel in time. As soon as Harry parked the car, he went out of it and went to get Artemis.

“We’re here, monkey” He said, getting him out of the car seat and scooping him in his arms. “I’ll come get the bags later, love” he said to Y/N, who was getting Artemis’ backpack out of the car along with her own purse and Anne’s gift.

“They’ll be some more people aside from Anne and Gemma, baby. Remember that we need to be polite” Y/N said as they walked towards Anne’s doorway.

“Yes, mummy” The five year old nodded, pushing his little glasses up his nose. Harry squeezed him to his chest, knowing the confidence he now had with just being with her mum and him was going to pretty much disappear when they crossed the door and people who he didn’t know were going to look at him.

“And who do we have here?” Gemma opened the door, offering them a big smile. “I’m so glad you made it, guys”

As they stepped in the house, Gemma embraced the two adults quickly before taking the little boy from Harry’s arms and into hers. “I missed you loads, Artemis”

“I missed you too, Gemma. I bought a gift for your mum” he said, giving her a toothy smile.

“She’s gonna love it” she turned to Y/N and Harry. “Everyone’s outside, mum’s at-”

“The birthday girl!” Harry exclaimed as his mum exited the kitchen. He took her in his arms, hugging her tightly before placing a kiss on her head. “Happy birthday, mum”

“Oh, thank you so much, my dear” Anne kissed his cheek.

“Anne!” Artemis asked Gemma to put him down then ran towards the older woman. “Happy birthday!” he said, hugging her legs.

“Goodness, every time I see you, you only get bigger and bigger” she gasped.

“I bought you a gift!” He said, the same sentence he’s been telling over and over again. You see, he was really excited for it. “Mummy, can I give Anne her gift?”

“There you go, baby” Y/N handed him the carefully wrapped gift, stepping closer to where they were standing to greet Anne as well.

“It’s so good to see you, dear” Anne said.

Artemis handed Anne her gift, placing his hands behind his back once she took it, a sign he was nervous. Anne sensed how badly he wanted her to open the box, so she did so. It was a beautiful bracelet with four charms on it.

“It has four cats because you have four cats” he explained shyly.

“Oh my god, I love it so much!” she said, bending down to his level to give him another hug. “Thank you so much”

Their little bubble was broken when one of Harry’s relatives entered the house, calling for Anne. They decided to step out of the house and into the backyard where everyone else was having fun.

There were a couple of kids running around, and Artemis held onto Y/N’s hand as they walked. Harry introduced them to a couple of his cousins and aunts, and Y/N tried to hold the conversation while the little boy was hiding behind her legs.

“He’s a little shy” she would say, caressing his soft hair with one hand.

Someone called Harry and asked him to help grilling lunch, and that’s how Y/N ended sitting beside Gemma in a table with a couple of more people and Artemis on her lap.

“You don’t wanna go play with the kids, kiddo?” Gemma asked him after a while. Artemis looked over the other kids and noticed they were older than him.

“No, thank you. I wanna stay with mummy”

One woman was asking Y/N how Harry and she met and how long they’ve been together, and that’s how she found herself in a conversation with the elder women in the table, occasionally looking at Harry from the corner of her eye. He looked so cute over there; he had rolled up the sleeves of her button-up shirt and was laughing at something one of the other men had said.

“Mummy, can I go with Harry?” Artemis whispered at his mother after some other time.

“Yeah, want me to go too?” he shook his head, jumping off of her lap. Y/N observed him walk towards Harry.

He tugged his slacks, getting his attention. “Hello there, monkey. Got bored?”

Artemis shook his head again. “Wanted to see what you’re doing” Harry took him in his arms again, holding him with one arm and continue cooking the food with the other.

“I’m cooking the sausages and the beef so everybody can eat. Are you hungry? Do you want to eat?”

“A little and yes, please”

“Mm’kay… what do you want? A hotdog? A burger?”

“Can I have just the sausage?” Harry raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just that?” He received a nod from the boy in his arms. “I’ll give you two, if you’re still hungry you can always come back to me, alright?”

Putting Artemis back on the floor, he plated two sausages for him then added some mustard on the side, knowing he does not like ketchup.

“Aiden, can you take over for me? My kid’s hungry” he didn’t notice as those words rolled out of his tongue, too busy walking back to the table Y/N was.

“You’re back” she said, watching how Harry took a seat next to her and placed Artemis on his lap.

“Lad was hungry” he said, giving her a quick peck on the lips. “Are you? I can make us some food”

“I’m good right now, thank you baby” Harry handed her the plate so she could cut Artemis’ food, blowing at it a little so it would cool off faster.

Y/N placed her head on Harry’s shoulder as they watched him eat. After he finished, Harry thought he would hop off his lap and go run around with the rest, but he stayed right there.

It was pointless to ask him to go on his own to play with kids he didn’t know, but Harry did not want him to stay sit all afternoon. “Hey, wanna play with me?”

Artemis nodded shyly and off they went. They started playing tag in alone, Harry purposefully running slower so Artemis could catch him every time. They were having fun, the two of them were giggling and running around. Ten minutes later, two girls approached them and asked them if they could play too.

“He’s so good with him” one of Harry’s aunt said to Y/N.

“He’s the best”

Harry put a hand on Artemis’ shoulder, introducing him to his two young cousins and explaining he was a little shy but would love to play with them. And that’s how Harry ended chasing around the entire group of kids for a solid hour. Artemis seemed more relaxed and even started talking with the first two girls who joined them.

Harry was happy he was able to help overcome his shyness, even if it was just a little bit.

At the end of the day Artemis was tired and wanted to sleep, but Y/N couldn’t be happier he had fun and played with other kids. As they were walking upstairs with the sleeping boy in Y/N’s arms, she looked at Harry and smiled at him.

“Thank you for today”

“For what?”

“For helping him make friends”

He shook his head. “No need. I know he’s social, he just needs a little push” he shrugged. They changed and went to bed, Artemis squeezed between them.

“Called him my kid, today” he said, almost afraid. He was laying on his side, facing Y/N. “Wish he was mine, Y/N” he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled at him lovingly, extending one of her arms so she could touch his cheek. Harry leaned into his touch, moving his face to kiss her palm. She felt like she would cry of happiness right there.

“Baby, he’s already yours”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluffy imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles fic #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic

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heshoes · 3 years

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Twin Telepathy

❝And I never thought it would be true that one day I'd have to live without you.❞ In which a connection started at birth remains strong until the bitter end.

Warnings (BC THIS ONE IS TRIGGERING): ⚠️ angst, main character death.

Idk the word count but this one is short

Main Characters: Harry Styles, Edward Styles

There is no smut in this one my loves. I wrote this like 5 years ago and I’m posting it here now. I hope you enjoy and reblog let’s talk about it after you read.xx

Age five is when Harry and Edward noticed that they were identical. Age five was the time of development for secret languages, tricks, and pranks pulled on parents, grandparents, and even the teachers at primary school because they could get away with it.

They would even switch classes sometimes.

Harry was always good at maths. He progressed at counting blocks and telling time where Edward was a bit more fuzzy in the subject. However, Edward could always read and excelled in primary school literature despite the fact that he would throw a tantrum anytime his mum would pull him away from the television in order to for him to read her a bedtime story.

“What time is it Harry?” Their mum would ask knowing full well what the time was herself, as she took her seat behind the two curly headed boys on the floor who sat helplessly too close to the television. One because he really couldn’t see all that well, the other because he wanted to be close to his brother.

“I’m not Harry! I’m Ed.” Harry laughed cheekily as he told a lie while his brother squinted to look at the cartoon characters on the telly screen.

“Well, Ed,” His mother spoke playing along with his game, “What time is it?”

“Eight o’clock! Time for bed?”

“Thats right!” Their mother laughed, “When did you get so much better at telling time Edward?”

“Uh-oh”

“That’s right, Harry. Uh-oh.” The boy laughed in his mothers arms as she began to tickle and he began to squirm. Edward found it amusing, and because his brother laughed so did he, feeling the same exact joy that his brother did from the top of his head down to his tiny toes. Rushing for his mother in order to save his brother from the tickle monster, Edward pulled Harry from her arms, and for once he didn’t put up a fight when his mother asked him to read to her after he and Harry were dressed in their pajamas.

•••••

Ten was the age of growing into your face and the ever present awkward phase that everyone has to go through. By age ten, Harry had to wear braces and Edward wore a pair of glasses thicker than should be allowed. Their pranks didn’t work as well as they used to when they were younger due to the physical tell all’s that adorned their faces, but it didn’t make the boys any less close together. If anything it made them stick together more. Age ten was also the age in which they were constantly bullied.

As the boys walked down the hallways books would be ripped from their hands or feet would be purposely stuck out in order for one to trip. When Edward fell and broke his glasses, Harry had decided that he had, had enough. Edward was angry, furious even, but because he could barely see he couldn’t do much about it. Harry, however, could and the anger that Edward felt radiated off of his twin in hot streams.

“Apologize!” Harry shouted at the much bigger boy, standing his ground though he was much shorter.

“For what?” The boy challenged in a much more condescending tone. He knew what he had done and he was proud of himself for it.

“Apologize to my brother or I’ll– I’ll...”

“You’ll what brace face?!”

“I’ll kick your ass!”

The crowd in the hallway ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at the use of Harry’s language as he stood in between Edward and the boy who was much taller. Edward had since put his broken glasses in his pocket as he squinted, tugging at Harry’s arm to get him to walk away from the situation, but Harry wouldn’t budge.

Harry wasn’t prepared for what was to come. As the boy lifted his fist to connect it with Harry’s jaw he was cut short. Before any contact could be made, the boy who was much taller was seated forcefully on the ground holding his bloody nose in his hand, looking up at Edward. Edward looked down on the bully while flexing his hand open and closed hoping that if he shook it hard enough the pain of breaking someone’s nose would go away.

Harry looked at his twin with shock in his eyes and a smile on his face as Ed continued to shake his hand while all three of the boys were escorted to the principal’s office.

“I thought you couldn’t see?” Harry whispered to his twin in hopes of a quick explanation.

“I can’t see things that are far away, but that fucker, he was pretty close.”

Harry and Edward both began to laugh as they sat patiently in the principals office for their parents to collect them for their suspension from school.

•••••

Fifteen was the age of rebellion, girls, and more argument’s between the boys than usual. They had since grown into their faces and their own personalities and though they were still close, they didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things. Harry had gotten into sports and school, while Edward had gotten into bands and trouble. The one thing that they did both agree on at the moment however was going to Tash Fraser's birthday party. Although she was two years their senior she had still sent the boys a personal invite. She was turning 17 and this of course would help boost their popularity for the year.

They were already high on the food chain at school for boys of only fifteen years old, and since they had grown into their faces and out of their braces and glasses, they had become rather attractive aside from the baby fat that they still had here and there.

“You ask.” Harry spoke, shoving Edward towards their parents room and grabbing the newspaper out of his hands, disturbing him from his place at the table as he read while flicking his brand new tongue ring against his teeth. Harry didn't care if Ed was angered by his rude interuption. He was older after all even if it was only by two minutes. Edward should do as he said.

“Why would I ask?! I just got off of punishment. I’ll be lucky if I can go anywhere. If I ask, dad will take one look at me and say no. No doubt I'll go anyway, but I'd rather do it without having to sneak. Leave me alone and give me my shit back! If you wanna go so bad you ask asshole!” Edward pushed his twin back, both of them equally aggravated by the other.

“We won’t be able to go anywhere if mum and dad hear you cussing! Fat chance on sneaking out with your big mouth!” Harry spoke aggressively above a whisper to his brother, making himself be heard.

Edward pulled his tongue ring between his teeth, playing with it and making Harry cringe before he nodded his head up and down in agreement.

“So what are we going to do?” Harry asked as if he were fresh out of ideas though he really didn’t bother to think of any.

“We’ll make them breakfast.” Edward spoke quickly, thinking on his toes much to Harry’s approval. And so they did, buttering their parents up with toast, pancakes, tomatoes, sausage, and bacon in order to get a simple, “alright” from their mother and father.

“You have to be home no later than one thirty!” Their mom reminded them as they headed out the door, riding with a mutual friend in order to make their way to the party.

“We’ll be home by twelve.” Harry yelled back jokingly earning a slap to the back of the head from his brother.

As the night went on, the music grew louder and the illegal activity had gotten more out of hand. Drinks of the alcoholic kind had been passed around, and though both Harry and Edward had one or two, neither of them dared to get drunk, knowing full well that their mother would be up waiting for them to get back.

“It’s one fifteen.” Harry spoke looking at his silver wrist watch that Edward had gotten him as a gift on their thirteenth birthday. “We should get ready to leave soon.”

Edward nodded his head in agreement as he looked around the crowded room for their friend. Hoping that he was sober enough to take them home. When he spotted him and told him that he was ready to go, their friend agreed to drive them even though Harry had notice the stumble in his step.

“Nuh uh, Edward. He’s drunk out of his mind.” Harry spoke to his twin, but was ignored as soon as the words left his lips.

“I can’t get in trouble again Harry. He’s fine we just live right up the street. It won’t take us long to get home. It’s fine.” Edward began to walk towards the car, but as soon as he took a step Harry pulled him back.

“Ed no! Why don’t you ever listen?!”

“Harry! If you want to stay here and get in trouble with dad because you’re not home in time then fine! Stay! I’ve just been freed and I’m not gonna be grounded again over something as stupid as this! I’ll see you when you get home.”

Harry let his brother go tired of arguing back and forth. There was no arguing with Ed and no point in trying to get him to think clearly when he had gotten an idea of his own.

Twenty more minutes passed before Harry had found a sober soul in the party who was willing to take him home. He hadn’t been drinking again, but he had the worst headache that he’d ever had in his life and it felt like it would split him clean in two if he didn’t get home and lie down. As they got in the car they traveled down the road only to see that it was blocked, a sudden panic started to set in. Harry’s head pounded worse and his mouth went dry and before the police got the chance to turn them in the opposite direction, Harry saw the car that Edward was in wrapped around a tree as if it were a flimsy piece of aluminum foil.

•••••

Today Harry was twenty and though this was considered to be an age of a milestone in life, he didn’t celebrate it in the traditional way. Harry hadn’t celebrated any birthday since fifteen because he saw no point in it. Instead of throwing a party or hanging out with friends, every year since after his fifteenth birthday, Harry would go to the cemetery in Cheshire so that he could be close to his brother.

Today was a day of remembrance.

As Harry sat against the cold granite headstone that represented Edward, he thought of the time that they spent together while he was living. Harry was thankful that he was in a fairly secluded area because he would talk to Ed and tell him about the things that went on in his day and as he thought about his brother, he would laugh out loud when he would remember a prank that they pulled when they were younger, like when Harry dressed up as Edward for an hour at school just so that he could take his maths test for him. Their mum was so proud of Edward for passing with flying colors.

Or when Edward would run into Harry’s room and pretend to be him when they were supposed to be sleeping. Harry had a girlfriend at the time and would sneak out of his room at night to go see her, where they would make out under a tree. Harry realised that he had never thanked Ed for that so he did it now. A simple “thank you” left his lips before he fell silent and his eyes began to water. Because this was a day of remembrance, Harry would also remember the day that he lost his best friend.

Harry remembered the waiting.

Waiting in the oddly cold room at the hospital with his mum and dad as doctors rushed about doing everything they could in order to save his brother.

Harry remembered the tears.

Tears that rolled down the faces of his family and himself as he rocked back and forth in his chair with with his hands clasped together tightly, saying a silent prayer that Ed would somehow walk out of the emergency room with maybe only a couple of stitches here and there.

Harry remembered the screams.

The deafening screams that came from his mother, his father, and himself when the doctor came out of the operating room and said that Edwards heart had given up and that his poor body was too weak to put up a fight.

Most of all, Harry remembered how he already knew that Edward was gone before the doctor came to announce it. His head had stopped hurting and his stomach was in knots, but he could no longer feel that strange connection that he and Edward shared since before he could remember and since age five, the age that he and Edward realized that they were identical.

Harry sat against Edward’s tombstone and allowed his tears to fall uninhibitedly, ridding himself of the pain that he felt everytime he thought about that fateful day. And though it hurt that he no longer had Edward around physically, he wasn’t sad anymore because he knew that he was there in spirit. The feeling that Harry felt was more overwhelming because everytime he thought about it, he could barely believe it.

He never thought it would be true that he would have to live a day without his best friend, his brother, his twin.

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #Edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst

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the-killer-queenie · 3 years

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Good Impression (Tommi Lalli x reader)

Inspired by this video and by suggestions of a couple of anons, I presented you all this Tommi/reader fic

Words: 1438

English is not my native language so sorry for the mistakes/typos you might found.

Note: for the sake of the story, let’s pretend Tommi lives in Helsinki and not in Oulu.

Hope y'all enjoy it!☺️

Tommi’s parents have invited you to spend the weekend at their house since it was going to be Tommi’s grandma's birthday and there would be a family reunion to celebrate it back in Oulu.

You hadn’t really ever left Helsinki or its surroundings, your work and studies tying you to the capital, so you were pretty excited to have this mini road trip all the way up to Tommi’s natal city and to get to know his family. It wasn’t exactly a “meet the parents” situation, since you’ve already met them one time when they were in the city visiting Tommi. So you weren’t extremely nervous although the usual bad scenarios popped up in your mind from time to time.

The night before leaving, you were sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, still trying to pack your bag. Tommi was on his phone, already laying in bed, since you planned on leaving early in the morning.

“Babe, which blouse should I take, this green one or the black one?” you asked, showing both options to him.

“I’d much prefer you without one,” Tommi said without looking up from his phone.

“Always the tease,” you said as you decided on one of them and put it on your bag.

“Remember it’s only a weekend though and it won’t be that fancy of an event…”

“I know, but I just want to make sure I leave a good impression,” you replied as you closed your bag, deciding you already had everything you’ll need for the weekend.

Having finished packing, you crawled into bed next to Tommi, who left his phone on the nightstand and wrapped his arm around you.

“There’s no way you won’t be leaving nothing but a good impression, prinsessa” Tommi whispered in your ear as you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty space next to you and to sounds coming from the kitchen. Someone was not wasting any time. After having some quick breakfast Tommi had prepared and loading your bags in the trunk of the car, you were ready to leave.

“Ready kulta?” Tommi asked as he put his sunglasses on.

“Ready Tommi-bear.” you answered as you opened the music app on your phone. You have spent the week prior crafting a playlist to blast through the road trip. It had some of yours and Tommi’s favourite songs plus some duet worthy songs, since you weren’t oblivious of the fact that Tommi had a beautiful voice. So of course you didn’t waste any chance you got of hearing it.

“Ok, here we go,” he said as you pressed shuffle on the playlist.

The first song that came through the car’s speakers was Dancing Queen by ABBA. Tommi chuckled. “I thought you made the playlist, not Aleksi,” he ironically said, commenting on how the dark haired DJ plays that song on concerts, soundchecks and pretty much whenever he gets the chance.

“Hey, it’s a good song.” you said and started singing along. Tommi smiled and eventually joined in.

After a couple of duets passed by, you suddenly shut up, leaving Tommi singing on his own. He didn’t realise it wasn’t a duet anymore until a couple of minutes later, when he turned his sight from the road to you, who were softly smiling at him.

“What?” Tommi asked, and you could swear he slightly blushed.

“You should sing more often, you know?”

“Oh shut up,”

“I really mean it! Maybe I should text Niko or Joel…”

You told him how his voice was really lovely and soothing but he just brushed it off, although you could see a little smirk growing on his face.

The ride went really well and smoothly. You both chatted about everything and nothing, music playing on the back as you made sure to get some chill songs besides the karaoke worthy ones.

Since Tommi had made the road countless times, mostly because of Blind Channel gigs, he recounted some funny stories with the boys as some places you were driving though made him remember about them. Of course, the anecdotes were nothing but pure Blind Channel chaos which had you laughing up to the point of crying.

Speaking of Blind Channel, you had thrown into the mix one or two of their songs so when they came into the shuffle, you headbanged like there wasn’t a tomorrow and randomly played air drums, trying to copy Tommi’s moves when on stage, which made him laugh out loud.

“Maybe I could give you some drum lessons when we go back,” he said while tapping his fingers to the beat of the song.

You bit your lip. The image of you sitting on his lap while giving you drum lessons presented you with thousands of thoughts that you decided to keep for yourself, at least until you got back to your apartment back in Helsinki.

As you were getting closer to Oulu, you asked Tommi who he thought would be at his grandma’s party. Tommi started listing an incredible number of people, describing them and telling how they were related. Basically giving you a sort of brief of his family. But as the list grew, your nerves too started to rise up.

You passed through a sign telling you were now entering Oulu and you became quieter and started mindlessly tapping your foot. Tommi noticed the sudden change of the atmosphere.

“Hey, you’re gonna make a hole on the car’s floor if you keep with the tapping,” he said, trying to bring up the lively spirit again.

You giggle and stop with the tapping, but remained silent while looking at the passing scenery through the window.

“Nervous?” Tommi asked.

“Yeah, I guess... I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m really excited to meet your family but at the same time there’s this voice in my head sort of panicking and questioning ``what if they don’t like me?´´” you confessed to him.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to cut ties with them if they don’t like you,” he replied with a straight face.

You gave Tommi a playful punch on his arm.

“No, but in all seriousness, I can’t think of a simple reason they won’t like you. You know, I haven’t told you this but my parents didn’t do anything but praise you after meeting you. And I’m sure they already passed on their stamp of approval to the rest of the family,” he reassured you.

Tommi’s words comforted you and made you relax a little. You turned up the music and tried to enjoy the last couple of kilometres you got left of the trip.

You finally arrived at Tommi’s parents house, who were waiting for you on the porch. They greeted you both and asked how the trip was. But before you could answer, an old lady came out of the house, calling Tommi’s name. It was his grandmother. You recognized her from some family photos Tommi had shown you ahead of the trip. She made her way up to where you were all standing and you couldn’t help but melt at the sight of the height difference between her and Tommi when she went for a hug.

“So you’re the young lady that stole my Tommi,” the woman said as she turned around to look at you. You gulped, not sure if she was being serious or just messing with you. She must have seen the panic in your face as she clarified with a laugh, “I’m only joking. For what I see, he’s actually the lucky one,” she said with a warm smile. You blushed at the woman’s words and thanked her while allowing yourself to loosen up a little.

Tommi’s mum invited you to come into the house, since she had prepared something for both of you to eat after the long journey. As Tommi took out your bags from the car, the old lady intertwined her arm with yours and slowly began walking towards the house.

“Now, we have many things to chat about that grandson of mine. Like, have you noticed his nose…” she started saying, lowering her voice as if it were a confidence only you were allowed to hear.

“Ei, mummo, not again…” Tommi groaned, interrupting her while escorting both of you on the way into the house.

You just giggled and continued to listen to the old lady’s complaints of his grandson's features. You might disagree with her on that but as you start approaching the house, you started to feel at ease and though to yourself that it will be a fun weekend.

Ei, mummo = No, grandma (thanks duolingo)

yeah, sorry if the end sucked but I really wanted to make the reference to the q&a video.

#tommi lalli #tommi lalli x reader #blind channel #anto (apparently) writes?

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eirist · 3 years

Text

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

WISH COME TRUE

One-shot #: 27

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: What is there to say but… HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAMI!!!

Summary: Birthday wishes might be overrated but not when they are made to come true.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAMI!!!”

The whole crew greeted in unison the moment the orange-haired navigator stepped inside the decorated galley—in the midst of popping confetti, clapping and shouting.

Their voices were surprisingly in sync and Nami wondered if they practiced the greeting days before her birthday or they were just that enthusiastic.

“Ah! Minna! Thank you!” She gushed as she looked at the happy, grinning faces of her crewmates and her own smile widened some more.

The room was filled with balloons in different colors of orange, white and silver. Some were floating up the ceiling with glittering streamers hanging down from them. Others were scattered all over the galley floor. There were letter balloons at the far end of the room with the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY spelled out.

The Straw Hats went all out with the decorating and Nami can’t help but be pleased.

“You guys… this is wonderful!” She exclaimed as a whirl of hearts appeared suddenly in front of her.

“Nami-swan! Happy birthday!” Sanji stopped twirling and dropped down on one knee in front of the mapmaker. He held her hand in his, bowing slightly before planting a kiss on it. “Your birthday feast is ready my sweet mellorine!”

“Arigatou, Sanji-kun!” Nami glanced at the table, filled with delicious food and desserts, with a beautifully made three-tier cake in the middle, complete with sparklers. “Everything looks amazing!”

“Anything for you my love!” The blond cook sang and froze in happiness when Nami blew him a kiss.

“Nami! Happy birthday!” Chopper cheerily approached her and took her other hand, tugging her towards the direction of the table. They left Sanji, still frozen and kneeling down on one knee.

“Thank you Chopper!” She lifted him up and kissed his cheek. Chopper blushed and giggled and pointed towards the cake. “Time to blow the candles and make a wish.”

“Yeah!” Luffy shouted, eyes sparkling from too much excitement at the food in front of him. “Come on Nami hurry, hurry!”

Nami just chuckled at her captain’s impatience. Normally that would earn him a knuckle on the head but since this day is special… she decided to just let it go.

“Alright. Alright!” She said as she approached the table. She smiled at Robin, Franky and Brook as they all greeted her before marveling at the astounding cake in front of her.

“Wow!” She breathed out.

“Make a wish Nami!” Chopper said as he jumped on the empty dining chair to get a good view when she finally blew the candles out.

“Faster witch,” Zoro drawled on her other side. He was sitting on the chair on her left, already enjoying a tankard of his favorite alcohol. “Luffy’s about to turn rabid from hunger.”

She narrowed her eyes at him yet he only smirked at her, muttering a ‘happy birthday’ before taking a drink from his mug as Luffy chanted ‘meshi! meshi!’ in the background.

“Come on birthday girl!” Usopp coerced her. “Make a wish and then blow the candles!”

“Oi you idiots! Don’t rush Nami-san!” Sanji bellowed as he finally recovered from Nami’s earlier blown kiss.

“It’s alright Sanji-kun!” Nami’s smile at him was enough to stop the chef in his tracks as hearts started popping out from him. She closed her eyes, silently making some wishes from her heart, before taking a deep breath and blowing the cake’s candles so they can start the celebration.

Cheers broke out when she was able to blow them all in one go. Chopper was elatedly announcing how her wish will come true because of that.

Nami certainly hope so.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Usopp hollered as Sanji took her hand again to guide her to the seat at the head of the table—something Luffy graciously gave up for Nami’s special day (with some cajoling and promises of meat).

“It’s time to celebrate Nami’s birthday!!!”

-------------------------

“Gimme.”

Zoro paused in the middle of bringing his mug to his lips when Nami held out her hand to him, her palm facing upward.

“What?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

Nami thrust her hand closer to his face, her fingers moving in a give me motion.

Zoro just continued looking at her blankly.

She made a face at him. “Gosh Zoro. Even Luffy has given me something for my birthday.”

“Tch.”

Nami sighed, resting both hands on her hips. No use teasing this surly swordsman if he have a birthday present for her.

Because the answer’s most likely no.

Well she was expecting it. But of course that doesn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed.

She just decided to shove that thought down the deepest recesses of her mind and just enjoy her birthday celebration.

“You going anywhere tomorrow?” Zoro suddenly asked just when she was about to turn her back on him.

“Huh?” She blinked curiously at him. “Why?”

Zoro regarded her for a moment. “Let’s go somewhere.”

Nami’s ears perked up at that and her eyes widened. Go somewhere?

Did he just… did he mean…

“Where?” She inquired almost breathlessly, her heart racing.

Zoro smirked. “You’ll find out tomorrow.” He stood up and made a grab for the bottle half-filled with sake. “Happy Birthday Nami.” With that he moved to exit the galley to head to the nest for his watch, leaving her dumbfounded.

Honestly… did he just like… ask her out?

Seems like one of her birthday wishes will come true after all.

-------------------------

“So where are we going?”

That was the first thing Nami asked Zoro when they met each other on the deck the next morning after breakfast.

“Didn’t Robin tell you?” The swordsman frowned at her.

“Robin?”

“Yeah. Robin’s coming with us.”

“Oh.” Nami blinked. Robin’s coming with them? The archaeologist didn’t mention anything about that last night before they went to bed.

Yet she nodded to show her agreement and understanding… even if she doesn’t really get it.

“Don’t worry, you’ll like it,” Zoro assured her, when he saw her doubtful expression. “Just don’t wear any of those pointy shoes you fancy.”

Nami stared hard at him. She shouldn’t wear pointy shoes? Does he mean high heels?

Why? Where are they going?

“Ara… are you two ready?” Robin’s soft voice put a stop to their conversation. The raven-haired beauty was walking towards them, dressed in her hiking gear.

Nami looked at Zoro inquisitively who just nodded at her. “We’ll go once Nami’s ready.” Then he walked away from her and headed towards the boy’s quarters… probably to change as well.

“Not a problem,” Robin smiled at him then at Nami.

“Oi!!! Luffy suddenly shouted as he bounded across the lawn, full of energy, with his adventure backpack already on his back. “Let’s get going! Sanji! Where’s our bento?!”

“Damn it aho sencho!” The blond cook shouted from the galley. “Can you just wait?!”

“Are you still not ready Nami?” Usopp walked past her, eyeing her up and down as he adjusted the straps of his own backpack.

“Ok wait.” Nami held up a hand in a stopping motion. Everyone is in their hiking-slash-explorer apparels. “What is happening? Are we all going?”

“Of course!” Luffy said, pumping both arms up in the air. “It’s an adventure!”

“Definitely!” Usopp frowned at her, offended that she sound disappointed that they will be joining them.

Nami mirrored his expression. “But…”

Usopp raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Wait don’t tell me you think this is gonna be just you and Zoro?”

“No!” Nami growled under her breath, inwardly horrified that Usopp somehow sensed that. “Where did that even come from?!”

How in the world did they all know about today? She was pretty sure she was the only one Zoro asked last night.

The grin that appeared on Usopp’s face was evil. “Oh. You do think it’s just gonna be the two of you?”

“WHAT?!”

“Oooh… I did hear him tell you.” the sharpshooter cooed as her face turned red. “But Robin also told us last night that we’ll all be heading somewhere today.”

Nami’s frown deepened at that. So… they weren’t actually going to be alone today. She honestly thought that was the case.

Because as far as she knows… she was the only one he asked.

Well… it wasn’t though.

Nami shoulders slumped dejectedly. This is Zoro they’re talking about. There is a much better chance of trying to shoot at the moon and hitting it. “I’ll just go and get changed so we can head out to wherever we are going.” She mumbled glumly.

So much for one of her birthday wishes coming true.

-------------------------

“Where are we heading?” Nami muttered under her breath as she trudged along the dense jungle trail, shoving away the enormous plant leaves that were blocking their path.

She had been rather excited about today last night. Right after Zoro told her they were going somewhere.

They. Them and their crew.

She pouted as felt annoyance stirring up inside her. She felt rather cheated. Not to mention, they had been hiking for about an hour now and she was getting tired. Robin has kept mum about where they were going. The same goes for Zoro, who was already a closemouthed person to begin with.

Between Luffy’s constant hollering, Usopp complaining, Chopper getting excited with all the plant life growing along the trail, Zoro and Sanji’s bickering every ten minutes and this excursion turning out to be one big of a disappointing trip… she was about to reach her breaking point.

“Are you ok Nami?”

Robin had stopped walking to wait for her, with a gentle smile gracing her lips. But Nami can see how brightly her usually cool blue eyes were shining from excitement.

Wherever they are heading… Robin’s eager to get to it as fast as possible.

But she still doesn’t get it why Zoro asked her last night. Robin could’ve just told her that she was planning on a hiking trip to the jungle… just right after her birthday.

“Where are we going Robin?” Nami can’t stop herself from asking. She watched as the boys continued moving forward, noisy as ever. She wouldn’t be surprised if they provoked whatever animals are lurking in this place because of racket they are making.

Good thing Franky and Brook decided to stay behind… or it’ll be much noisier.

“Are you alright?” Robin inquired again. “Just a few more kilometers and we’ll be there.”

“Where and what is there?”

“Something that you like.”

Nami looked startled at that. Then she narrowed her eyes at her friend. “You know Zoro said the same thing.”

Robin chuckled.

“Robin come on! Spill! Tell me something!” Nami whined.

The older woman just smiled at her. “Let’s go before the boys take a wrong turn or lose Zoro.”

“Just let him get lost. We have Chopper. We’ll find him later.” Nami huffed as she followed Robin who had resumed trekking.

“That would be a shame.”

“Why?!”

Robin glanced behind her mischievously. “Wherever we are going… Zoro has something for you there.”

That made Nami stop in her tracks.

Zoro has something for her?

Robin chuckled again as she watched Nami’s eyes widened.

“Let’s get going shall we Nami?”

This time the navigator followed her almost immediately in stunned silence.

Is that why Zoro told her they were going somewhere today? Because he actually has something for her?

Her birthday present?

Nami fought the smile that was threatening to appear on her lips. Robin’s sharp eyes might notice that she is excited about this.

A few more minutes of marching along the trail and Nami can’t help but ask.

“What does he have for me anyway? And why is it inside this jungle?” Nami muttered darkly. She was excited at the thought of getting a gift from the ever-stoic swordsman but seriously, this non-stop hiking is slowly dampening her enthusiasm.

Robin glanced back at her amusedly. “It’s a actually surprise. You don’t like surprises?”

“From Zoro?” Nami blinked at that. “That thought is already a surprise in itself. Seriously, I don’t think he’s capable of doing anything like this.” She glared at the idiot mosshead who were walking a few feet ahead of them. “Besides what kind of surprise is this that you have to exert so much effort to get it?”

The archaeologist giggled at her impatience. “Well to be honest, with a right push he is capable of anything. Give our swordsman some credit. Besides… as I have said you will like it.”

Nami buried to her side. “You’re behind this?”

“Hmm… yes and no.”

“Robin! Stop teasing me!”

Robin turned to her and smiled that certain mysterious smile of hers.

“Let’s just say, Zoro stumbled upon something in this place.”

“You mean he got lost again and accidentally found something here right?”

“Fufufu… yes.”

Nami pondered at the information she had been given. What is in this place that she likes?

Based on all the green foliage around her… there is nothing here that piques her interest.

So what the hell?

She glanced at Robin who had an almost serene expression on her face. Yet she was moving a bit faster than before. The boys had already disappeared from their sight. A few seconds passed and there were a lot of shouting and yelling ahead of them.

Robin motioned for her to pick up her pace. Ahead of them, multiple hands bloomed to part the gigantic leaves and branches that were blocking their path so they can easily make their way through it.

“Zoro accidentally found this place,” Robin explained. “And I stumbled across him here while I was out exploring yesterday.”

They reached the end of the trail. And Nami stared in awe at the scene before her.

A few feet ahead of them were ancient stone ruins of what could be a palace or a temple.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Robin murmured as she made her way towards the place.

The boys have now wandered off to explore the place. Nami can hear their excited voices echoing along the vast abandoned site.

But this is something that Robin likes… not her. She couldn’t understand what’s in it that both Zoro and Robin think she’ll like.

Robin approached Zoro who was standing before a rather large boulder that was blocking the entrance towards what Nami could make out as a stone chamber.

She slowly followed her and watched as Zoro drew out one of his katanas and effortlessly sliced the boulder into pieces. He kicked off some of the rubbles, clearing the area as Robin beckoned for Nami to come closer.

Nami could make out a hole on the ground. Her questioning gaze met Robin’s and the older woman just smiled at her.

“Happy birthday again Nami.” And with that she left Zoro and her alone as she headed towards the now accessible chamber to explore what was inside.

Zoro was dusting his hands on his pants. “Let’s go.” He said.

“Go where?”

He pointed to the rather large hole on the ground.

Nami stared at him with wide eyes. It was then that she realized that the boulder earlier was meant to cover the hole rather than block the chamber’s entrance.

“Nuh-uh.” She stubbornly folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t like gaping dark holes that looks like it’s gonna swallow you and make you disappear to oblivion.”

Zoro chuckled at her reaction. “Don’t be such a chicken Nami. You’ll like what’s down there.”

“Why is your gift for me down there?”

He frowned. “Robin told you?”

“Yeah.”

He scratched the back of his head.

“It better be not the entrance to hell Zoro!”

“If it is then I would be dragging you to it! Not asking you to jump down with me!”

“Do you need any help?” Robin’s voice suddenly spoke out of nowhere, interrupting their brewing verbal battle. A hand had bloomed out from one of the stone columns surrounding them, unsurprisingly with a mouth on it.

“Nah I got this.” Zoro replied, scooping Nami into his arms suddenly.

“Zoro!!!”

With a shark-like grin, he leapt down the hole.

Nami screamed bloody murder at his ear, her arms clinging around his neck as hard as she could to the point of almost choking him.

They hit the ground not shortly after. And Nami’s screamed was suddenly brought to a halt. She realized it wasn’t the hole wasn’t as deep as she initially thought it was.

But it was still dark… and scary. And her heart was still racing and thudding against her chest.

If this is Zoro’s gift for her… she would maim him with his own swords once they get back to the Sunny.

Zoro set her down to her feet. But Nami did not remove her arms around his neck and clung tighter even as she glared at him in the dark.

She can hear him chuckling at her expense; feel him reaching down his pocket to pull something out.

There was a flicking sound and light suddenly filled the room. Zoro was grinning down at her, holding a lighter that he probably snagged from Sanji-kun’s collection.

“Happy Birthday Nami.”

And as the light slowly lit the room and bounced against some reflective surfaces, so did Nami’s eyes as it widened with the realization of what was really Zoro’s birthday present for her.

He had stumbled upon a chamber in the ruins filled with treasure.

And it was all for her.

Zoro just made some of her birthday wishes come true.

#zoro x nami #ZoNa #zonami #zonalove #zona one-shots #zona fanfiction #zoro nami fanfiction #roronoa zoro #nami

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selfwriting-sugarquills · 4 years

Text

Say yes. (George Weasley x reader)

Description: George Weasley had asked you to marry him exactly 465 times since he and you started dating in your fifth year. He’d said it half-jokingly at first, then because you kept turning him down with a smirk as you insisted “someday, but not yet.” and then it had evolved to be a way of saying “I love you” and you’d established that it wasn’t the real one yet as long as you were in school, and that when he finally decided to ask you for real, you’d know: Champagne, fireworks and other romantic gestures were promised but when George loses his ear he decides to spend that final proposal a little differently than initially planned.

requested: nope

warnings: descriptions of blood, injuries, a little angst but mostly fluff.

word count: 3.7K

taglist: @schlongbottom @cardboardbenmazzello @unseensilver @mochamiilk

(gif isn’t mine)

“Marry me?”

“Oh, Merlin,” you facepalm, “It’s too early for this, George,”

“Come on!” he persists,

“You always ask me and the answer’s always going to be the same!” you’ve taken on an irritated tone but you’re grinning at him from across the breakfast table,

“But I don’t know that! What if you change your mind?” he asks and takes a bite of toast,

“Yeah ‘cause I’m likely to decide to get married in the middle of my sixth year, am I?” you steal the other piece of toast from his plate and bite into it. He lets you,

“Maybe? It could be kind of romantic: eloping and doing it in secret?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you earning a playful eye roll from you,

“No way. Your mother would murder you if she found out you’d eloped at sixteen, and I’m pretty sure my mum would be standing in line to get to me next,” you chuckle.

George Weasley had developed a habit of asking you to marry him since you first started dating. He’d first asked you when you were fifteen in Hogsmeade. You, in turn, had choked on your butterbeer and spluttered a panicked:

“WHAT?!”

George had laughed and answered: “You heard me,” and you hadn’t had the faintest idea if your relatively new boyfriend was being serious at all. He’d later admitted that no, he didn’t really think marrying you at the tender age of fifteen was a good idea but in his defence:

“I can still ask you now, and then wait to actually marry you!”

Which was true, but you sort of took the whole marriage thing seriously and so you’d developed a term for The Real One as an understanding that all his questions were not serious proposals and moreso a replacement for “I love you” or another set of endearing words, and that he’d let you know if he did ask The Real One. As the years pass by you’d become used to proposals being randomly thrown at you from the redhead you adored so much. In fact, you’d kept a tally and noted the most noteworthy ones in a small notebook:

#26 George asked me to marry him on a trip to the beach with my family and immediately got hit by a giant wave, suffice to say, I agreed to do it on the condition that he didn’t drown himself in an attempt to impress me.

#168 George learned yesterday that asking me to marry him while I’m hungover with my head in a toilet results in whatever I can grab nearest to me being tossed at him, possibly accompanied by a certain finger being presented to him.

#340 George successfully asked me to marry him during a quidditch match and because of his dashing looks and undeniable charm, not to mention his impressive sportsmanship and talent in the sheets, I said yes!

#341 George needs to learn that if he steals my notebook and forges me saying yes then I’ll never marry the git. ---> Oi, you promised not to say no :( - G Get over it, liar >:/ - Y/n

Now, at age 20, George had asked you a whopping 416 times to marry him, and you had yet to accept nor decline any of those proposals: you couldn’t say yes, because it wasn’t T.R.O (as you’d named it) and you couldn’t get yourself to say no because truth be told: you did want to marry him. A lot. But you figured it was better to wait, you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so you’d let yourself be amused by your boyfriend’s antics for years, though now as you grew older, there was an air of anticipation behind each time he asked, not to mention that he’d stopped asking you as frequently. He liked throwing you off by asking you unexpectedly,

“You know, if you’re gonna ask me, for real that is,” You ask one night while your head is resting on his chest. You’re in his bed above the shop, the light from the moon illuminating your shapes,

“Yeah?” his chest vibrates when he speaks and you can’t stop the small, content smile that forms on your lips,

“Just so you know, I want a ring-” he cuts you off with a soft laugh,

“- and champagne! lots of it! no ring pops or asking me while we’re in the ocean; I want it to feel real,”

“Got it,” he chuckles, your head bobbing with his chest as it rises and falls, “anything else I can do for you, madam?”

“...Fireworks would be appreciated too, please.”

“Noted,” there’s a moment of domestic, blissful silence, “Y/n?”

“mhm?”

“I love you,”

“I love you too.”

You don’t discuss the proposal anymore for the time being. Things at the order pick up its pace as Harry’s seventeenth birthday approaches and suddenly,

“What’s going on?” You’re standing in the kitchen with a puzzled look on your face as the two identical young men hurriedly come into the apartment and disappear into their respective bedrooms where you follow George to see him change out of his work suit and into a different, purple one at a fast pace,

“Something’s come up with the order, we have to leave tonight,” Fred’s voice explains from his room, you give George a questioning look, he doesn’t meet your eyes,

“I’m also in the order, why wasn’t I told about this?” you ask, as George passes by you into the living room, his eyes fixated on his buttons on his sleeves. In your chest, your heartbeat anxiously speeds up while you wish George would just slow down for once and explain what is going on, though you know that slowing down isn’t exactly the twins’ expertise,

“You know Moody; always so secretive. He probably figured that telling everyone in the order the details would lead to the info leaking or something, don’t worry about it, love,” George flashes a quick reassuring smile at you but you’re already worried about it. In fact, you feel nothing but anxious about this whole situation.

“But what am I supposed to do? just sit here and wait while you go on some secret mission I know nothing about?” you ask while the twins find coats and begin putting them on. Finally, George faces you and quickly approaches you but you’re not calmed by this. A small flicker of anger ignites inside you as you realise that your boyfriend clearly doesn’t take this as seriously as you do, and then again why would he? he knows what’s happening you think to yourself. George gently cups your face in his hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead,

“It’s all going to be fine, I promise,” he says, caressing your cheeks, “tell you what: apparate to the burrow and I’ll meet you there, we’re supposed to go there anyway, alright?”

No, it’s not alright, what part of this is alright?!

“Yeah, alright then,” you say in defeat.

“That’s my girl!” George says and presses his lips to your forehead once more before walking over to his brother,

“Ready, Fred?” He says and Fred nods at him,

“Ready, George,” Fred replies with a grin,

“I’ll see you at the burrow, ok?” George turns to you and when you don’t reply with more than a solemn look, he adds, “Don’t worry.”

And then he’s gone. And you stand in the empty apartment, trying to process everything that just happened in the past ten minutes. Then you apparate to the burrow, landing outside the building. Molly must’ve seen you because the door opens before you’ve even reached the house and you’re more than happy to see her. You let yourself be swept into her embrace as she greets you with the same motherly fashion as she always did,

“I hope it’s not a problem. George sent me here,” you say as you tread inside, Molly closes the door behind you,

“Not at all, dear, I expected he would,” she says with a smile, “I was just about to make some tea, it always calms me on nights like these,” she says, already heading toward the kitchen,

“What do you mean?” You ask, your nerves beginning to gnaw at your insides again,

“Haven’t the boys told you anything?” Molly asks from the stove, you stand in the doorframe and shake your head, “something about the order and Moody but besides that, not much else,” you say,

“Just typical,” Molly tuts, “Oh well, I suppose there’s no reason not to tell you now,” she say and begins explaining the plan of moving Harry to the burrow, of disguising members of the order to look like Harry, the risks of the plan she doesn’t leave out and you don’t feel any better knowing that there’s a real danger of the plan going wrong.

Time passes. Ginny joins you in waiting, you small talk for a little but soon find yourselves too anxious to say anything other than worrying out loud if the order will arrive soon.

After an hour and a half, you’re pacing the living room, unable to sit still. According to Molly, they were supposed to have started showing up some forty minutes ago but when you look out over the dark landscape surrounding the burrow there’s nothing but softly swaying grass and a vast cloudy sky. You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom though you don’t do anything other than stare at yourself in the mirror and try to calm yourself down. But you can’t stop thinking about the worst-case scenarios: George coming home hurt, or worse, not coming home at all. You splash water in your face in an attempt to drown out the voice of George telling you not to worry in your head. The words have been echoing in your head since you arrived at the burrow, and each time you find yourself trying to cling to the sound of his voice, remember exactly how it sounded, how his fingers felt on your face as he caressed it, the feeling on his lips on your forehead right before he left, you try to feel the warmth they’d left just in case-

“I think I see someone!” Ginny says and by the sound of the door being flung open you exit the bathroom and follow her and Molly out into the night where one giant figure and one smaller one appear from the tall grass, who you immediately recognise as Harry and Hagrid, both of whom are soaked and clearly shaken up,

“Where are the others?” Harry asks while Hagrid explains to Molly how they hadn’t stood a chance, the death eaters had been awaiting them,

“You’re the first ones back,” Ginny says with a grim expression, she doesn’t get any further though, as the unmistakable pop of apparition brings your attention further down the field,

“Quick!” you hear Lupin yell and when you see the bleeding person he’s carrying you speed up to meet them, Harry beats you to it though, which is good, because when the polyjuice potion wears off and George’s features become clearer you feel as if all the air has been punched out of you, your knees buckling under you for a moment in shock, before you hurriedly follow them inside the house, where Lupin and Harry lay George on the couch. You and Molly sit down beside him and while Lupin grabs Harry and questions him you don’t tear your eyes away from George. You can’t.

“Hi there, darling,” he croaks, his eyes half-open. You place your hand on his chest and wince when you find it’s sticky with blood,

“Hey there,” you say, your voice unsteady. You try not to look at the blood that’s trailing from his ear but against George’s pale skin, it’s difficult not to. You bunch up his shirt in your hand as you try to steady yourself. You feel sick, and it doesn’t take long for tears to find your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, his voice barely more than a whisper, “it’s okay, Y/n,” his hand finds your cheek, as the first tear of many trickles down your face and you struggle to keep composed. You clench your jaw trying not to sob but you still let out a small broken one escape through your lips as you breathe out, as you place your hand on his, squeezing it tightly, you’re afraid. Afraid of him letting go. His eyes close and another sob burst through you. You only look up when you feel a hand on your back, and you find Fred’s concerned face, his hand moves to your shoulder, he gives it a quick squeeze,

“How’re you feeling, Georgie?” he asks, George swallows and for a moment you hold your breath, thinking he’s unconscious, but then his eyes open, just a little,

“Saint-like,” he says, to your surprise, a small smirk tugs at his mouth, you and Fred share a look,

“Come again?” Fred asks, looking pale with worry, the smile on George’s lips broadens,

“Saint-like,” he says, “I’m holey, Fred, I’m holey. Get it?” Georges’s hand leaves yours to gesture to his ear,

Fred’s cheeks gain a little colour as he shakes his head,

“Of all ear-related humour, you go for ‘I’m holey’? that’s pathetic,” Fred says, his smile mirroring his twin.

After a few moments Molly disappears to find some things to help mend George’s ear, and the order agrees to give him some privacy by moving into the kitchen, leaving you alone with the twins, Fred gets comfortable next to the couch, and you stay put, stroking George’s hair with a still-shaky hand.

“Don’t worry,” George says,

“You do realise that saying that over and over isn’t going to work, right?” You answer, brushing tufts of ginger hair away from his forehead,

“worth a try,” he replies, closing his eyes again a pained expression forming on his face and you know that he’ll most likely pull through but you can’t seem to let go of the ‘what if?’ resting in the back of your mind. Molly reappears with a bag of various remedies and ingredients, she picks out a sample of bottles, and then goes to find a cloth and some water,

“I would use magic,” She says, “but I think this is easier to control,” she wrings the cloth and both you and Fred eye it nervously,

“You gonna be ok?” You ask George when he opens his eyes at the sound of the water from the cloth dripping into the bowl beneath it. He swallows hard,

“Yeah, I think so,” he says, “It’s a bit of water, how bad could it be?” you try giving him an encouraging smile but you know that beneath it all you’re both aware that this isn’t going to be pleasant,

Molly gingerly touches the cloth to George’s ear and he winces, letting out a sharp hiss and his hold on your hand tightens, reminding you that your boyfriend, the former beater, is a lot stronger than you but you don’t ask him to let go, or say anything at all, your lips form a thin line as you watch him grimace and whimper with every stroke of the cloth against the cut. Molly apologies profusely and promises that she’s doing it as fast as she can, her eyes lined with tears as well. Fred grows pale when Molly wrings the cloth again, turning the water a bright vermillion and excuses himself,

the cut looks better after it’s rinsed and Molly gently applies some of the remedies she’s picked out, before asking your help in holding George, who’s close to unconscious again, while she bandages him,

“It’s not much,” she says in a shaky voice, “but it’ll do till tomorrow,”

“Do you think it’ll heal?” you ask, your voice is grainy and you now realise how dry your mouth is. Molly runs a hand over her son’s forehead,

“you can never know with dark magic, if it was cursed off we can’t know if there’ll be side effects,” she says, “we’ll just have to wait,” she sighs, watching George with glossy eyes. Then she picks up the water and turns to go,

“I’ll go clean up,” she says with a sniffle, leaving you alone in the living room with George. He looks a lot less frightening without the blood covering his neck and face, and with the bandage covering the ear, he looks almost normal, though he’s paler than you’ve ever seen him. You overhear Fred talk to Molly, who orders him to go upstairs and rest, you reckon he’s not doing well either, after a lot of arguing from Fred he complies. Molly comes in with a tearstained face and some blankets. Together you rearrange pillows and blankets, so you can lay next to George on the floor,

“We’ll have to leave the clothes on until tomorrow, as much as I’d like to change them,” Molly says, eyeing the bloody stains on the jacket and t-shirt he’s wearing, “oh well,” she says, “I think it’s best if we all get some sleep. You’ll be alright here, dear?” she asks,

“Yes, I think so,” you say, not sure you’ll be getting much sleep. You try to get comfortable next to George, holding his hand and laying down, staring at the ceiling. You quickly accept that sleep isn’t coming to you, and you sit up again, resting your head on your arm so that you’re almost laying next to George. It’s easier to relax when you can see him. See his chest rise and fall slowly. Hear his breathing. Feel it. Warm and soft, reminding you that he’s still here. Your eyes grow heavy and you’re nearly asleep when,

“Y/n?” your eyes open at the sound of his voice, you blink at him. His eyes are staring intently at you in the dim light,

“What?” you ask,

“Can I ask you something?”

you sit up,

“It’s just,” he begins, taking breaks in between his words, you wonder if anything Molly has given him has made him loopy, “I’ve been thinking about everything, and since I suppose I can say I’ve had a near death experience, it wouldn’t be right if it didn’t put some things into perspective,” he says, smiling at your puzzled expression,

“where are you going with-”

“will you marry me?”

“...what?” you stare at him,

“I had a whole thing planned but I think I’d rather do it now so I’ll never have to almost lose the opportunity to ask you for real again,” he says,

“George,” you say, awestruck “are you sure?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been,” he says in an almost unrecognisably serious tone, his eyes locked into yours,

You take a shaky breath, “ask me again.”

The same cheeky grin he’d always wear when he’d ask you appears on his face and you could cry because for the first time that night he looks like himself again,

“Y/n L/n, will you marry me?” he asks, taking both your hands in his, you don’t move to stop the warm tears that spill down your face, tasting them as you smile, nodding at him,

“yes, George Weasley, of course I’ll marry you,” you say, diving in to kiss him gently, his hand finds your face, his thumb wiping your tears away,

“Please don’t cry over me, Y/n,” he says, your faces still close, earning a half-sob half-chortle from you,

“I’m your bloody fiance now, I’ll cry however much I want over you,” you say, kissing him again.

“How many times did I ask?” he asks,

“I think that was the 417th time,” you reply, he pouts,

“Damn, my goal was a thousand,” he says with a smirk, “wait,” his eyes widen, “what am I supposed to ask you now?” he says. You allow yourself to laugh,

“you don’t have to ask me anything, thank you very much,”

“...Want to renew our vows?” he tries,

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind: I’m divorcing you,” you say, laying down beside him,

“hey! we’re not married yet,” he says,

“Then I’m divorcing you prematurely,” you say, “now get some sleep!”

***

Bill and Fleur’s wedding was wonderfully different from the way the rest of your lives were going. The war was pressing on with more and more shops in Diagon Alley closed down for an indefinite amount of time. Everywhere you went, people seemed anxious, awaiting something unknown, a sort of resolution to all the dread. In the middle of it all, a wedding had seemed misplaced but standing in the tent behind the burrow, seeing people actually laugh, dance and enjoy themselves, you felt more at ease than you had in months.

“Hey,” George appears next to you, handing you a glass of champagne,

“Hi,” you say, looking at Luna dancing with her father for a moment, you turn to George, “how’s the ear?” you ask, George didn’t talk about it much, insisting it was fine which didn’t stop you and Molly from fussing over him still,

“It’s okay,” He says, “If I’m honest, I hardly notice it anymore. Now I just want the bandages off,” he chuckles. You stand together, watching the crowd for a moment,

“Can I show you something?” he asks after sipping his drink,

“Right now?” your eyebrow lifts,

“Right now. Come on,” he nods towards the exit of the tent, extending his hand for you to take,

“What are we doing in your room?” you ask, a little winded the alcohol and from climbing the stairs,

“Sit down,” he gestures to his bed and heads to his dresser, rummaging through the third drawer down, “Where is it, I could’ve sworn- Oh! here it is!” he picks up a small object. He turns to you with a grin, “Now, I know that The Real One didn’t exactly go as planned, but I did have a whole thing planned, so,” he walks over to you and kneels down, opening the small object to reveal a stunning engagement ring, “I figured I owe you this,” he says,

“you got me a ring?” you say a little breathlessly, feeling ridicoulus when tears rim your eyes for what feels like the millionth time since George lost his ear,

“bought it with my first salary from the shop,” he replies with a sheepish smirk, “do you like it?”

“I love it, George,” you say, “really, it’s beautiful,”

“Want me to put it on you?”

“Duh!” you laugh,

George slips the ring onto your finger with ease and presses a kiss to your hand, then places soft kisses up your arm to your shoulder, your neck and finally your lips, his tongue swiping across your lips, deepening the kiss for a moment before you both break away with breathless laughter. He rests his forehead on yours, taking your hands in his, looking at the light shifting in the jewels in the ring,

“About bloody time we made it official, too,” he says with a sense of content finality, his hand cups your cheek, kissing you again, this time hungrier and you let him lower you onto his bed to celebrate your final engagement properly.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #Harry Potter #HP #fred weasley #george weasley headcanon

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floralguccistyles · 3 years

Photo

epilogue

...he probably loves you

After four months of dating Niall, our families and friends still couldn’t believe it.

Apparently, Niall’s feelings had only been apparent to my sisters, because when we told our parents that we were dating, they had stared at us with supportive confusion. Niamh had mourned the loss of the five hundred dollars four our Jamaica trip, but she had thrown an arm around my shoulders and congratulated me. And then, in a surprising turn of events, had started crying when Patrick announced he couldn’t contain himself anymore and proposed to her shortly after Niall and I had made our announcement.

Niall had just smiled his beautiful smile at me and pulled me closer into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’ve just realized!” His mom shouted in the middle of our movie. It was Greg’s pick tonight, so naturally he had chosen a Disney movie that Theo would actually be interested in. His wife had already dozed off to sleep, pregnant with number two and according to Greg, “unable to stay awake for more than five minutes.”

“Christ, Mum,” Greg complained, jumping from her loud exclamation.

“We can get Rose and Niall couples gifts for their birthdays!”

Niall raised his brow. I was curled up against him, my own eyes falling shut every couple of moments. The new job working for Eric’s brand was exhilarating and exciting, but it was a lot of work getting a start up business off the ground. Often, I would come home late and simply collapse on my couch while Niall took pity on me and made me dinner.

“Mum, our birthdays are five days away. Have you not gotten us anything yet?” he joked, his thumb running back and forth across my arm.

“You’ve always been hard to shop for,” his mum said simply, waving us off, her brain looking like it was going a million miles a minute with the new possibility of a couple’s present. “Not you though, Rose. You’re an angel to shop for.”

I grinned up at Niall. “I’m an angel,” I whispered.

His nose wrinkled. “Whatever.” But he quickly kissed my nose, ignoring Violet’s protest against PDA.

Violet was sitting on the floor by my feet, her nose buried in her phone as she waited on a text from the cute guy in her summer anatomy class she had a crush on. She had been hesitant to tell me about him, but three weeks ago, at one of our weekly-Thursday lunches, she confessed that he’d asked her to study with him. After hearing that, I had pushed and demanded she show me a picture and tell me his name.

He seemed nerdy and sweet. His name was Arjun, and he had helped her study for the final, where he stammered his way through the entirety of their study session before blurting out that he thought she was pretty and wanted to take her on a date.

They had been texting each other back and forth since.

“Don’t make a big deal out of this,” she had told Lily and I while we gushed over how cute it was that she had a crush on someone, especially after her good friend started dating the last guy she’d had feelings for.

Lily, on my other side, was leaning on the arm of the couch, her eyes slowly blinking in and out of sleep. She officially had her law degree and was going through what her coworkers lovingly called “Hell Year.” Her first year of being a lawyer and dealing with all the shitty cases was getting to her. However, she still managed to drag herself to our weekly lunches and had even mentioned that she had decided to go on a weekend getaway to London with Carmen, her coworker.

Violet caught me looking at her phone and shielded it from my view. I just playfully kicked her side.

After the movie, Niall drove us back to my apartment. It was nothing special, just a one bedroom, one bath. But it was mine. And while I still didn’t sleep all the way through the night except on the nights when Niall stayed over, I was working on it. I unlocked the door and let the both of us in, kicking off my shoes and flipping the light switch on.

Before I could take another step, Niall’s arms were around my waist and his mouth was on mine. I would never get tired of his kisses, of the way his hands would tease under the hem of my shirt and touch my heated skin. He always kissed with an eagerness, the kind of happiness that only someone who had been in love for a long time possessed.

“It’s so hard to sit next to you at family functions,” he sighed out against my lips. I laughed, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Unlike my mother, I already got your birthday gift.”

“If you say my birthday gift is sex with you, I might actually have to hit you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “That would be your birthday gift to me, Rosebud.”

I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. We hadn’t taken that final leap into our physical relationship yet. He was cautious and I was still unsure it was something I was ready for after my incident with Kent. The group I had been attending had been a huge help and I got coffee with Wendi and Carlos (two sexual assault survivors I had met and befriended at group) occasionally. Still, there was a small part of me that wondered if I would ever truly get over it.

And I wondered if Niall resented that.

He saw the look on my face and his smile melted away. “I didn’t mean it like that, Rosebud. You know that,” he said softly, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I know,” I replied, “I know. I’m sorry I’m a piece of work.”

He shook his head, his arms encircling me and pulling me into his body. “You are not a piece of work. You’re the girl I love and will continue to love, no matter what boundaries you set. You know that. Nothing could make me love you less.”

I leaned my head against his shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. Every time he told me he loved me, I got butterflies in my stomach and my lungs stopped working properly. “You staying over tonight?”

“If you want me here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I always want you here, Niall.”

He kissed me again, his lips soft and gentle. “Mind if I shower really quick?”

“Go ahead. I’m gonna make some hot chocolate.”

I watched him walk up the stairs, a smile on my face when he turned back to wink at me. When I heard the shower start up in ym small bathroom, I turned towards my kitchen and grabbed two disposable coffee cups and a Sharpie. Niall liked his hot chocolate made with the little chocolate sticks I bought at the store, so I poured milk into the saucepan and heated it before depositing one of the little sticks inside. He was also a big baby who demanded the little marshmallows, so I grabbed the bag from my pantry and set them on the counter to add to his drink later.

My heart was pounding. I had been planning this for a while, but just tonight felt confident enough to do it. So I poured his hot chocolate into his cup with shaking hands and raised the Sharpie to the side of the cup, scribbling down the message. I still had pictures of all the notes he’d written me, including the one from this morning, when he had written “love you more than you know, Rosebud.”

And he did. He loved me more than I could ever comprehend. The four months being with him, he had never failed to show me just how much. He held me when I woke up with a nightmare, kissed me on the forehead when I was frustrated with work, held my hands when I got home from group. But I’d realized the things he’d done for me before, too. Like picking me up when Lily couldn’t, staying on the phone with me when I asked it of him, always making me laugh.

Niall Horan truly loved me. More than I’d ever been loved.

And I needed him to know that his feelings were reciprocated.

I heard him before I saw him. He was loud as he walked over my hardwood floors, chattering on about some thought he had in the shower. I should have been a better girlfriend and listened properly, but my hands were still shaking and I felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest and run away. I turned, catching sight of him in his comfy black sweats and a white tee with that signature grin on his face.

“I forgot my shampoo at my place, so I used yours and now I smell like a lovely lilac spring.”

Just like that, my nerves evaporated. I didn’t know how Niall did that, make me so sure of myself, but he did. This man loved me. And I loved him. He deserved to know how much and not have me chicken out at the last minute.

I walked over to him, giving him a little sniff. “Very nice, very manly.”

“Nothing manlier than using my girl’s shampoo. Just shows how much I love her.”

“Is that what it does?” I asked playfully, reaching his cup out towards him. He took it in his hand, bringing it up to sip at it.

“Hey, you put in the little marshmallows this time,” he commented happily, taking another drink before he pulled the cup back. His large thumb covered my small writing, but he caught the tail of the ‘y’ and maneuvered his hand so he could read it. I saw the moment the words caught up with him, the moment he registered what I had written.

I love you more than you know.

“Rosebud…” His voice was delicate, like it could shatter in a single moment. “Do you mean it?”

In lieu of a response, I took the hot chocolate cup out of his hands and set in on the coffee table. I grasped his face in my hands, giving him a watery smile. “Thank you for being patient with me. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he breathed out. I felt honored and cherished when I saw the tears in his eyes just from my simple confession. “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too. So much.”

The earth could have collapsed around us. The ground could have opened up and swallowed us whole. All that mattered was Niall as he surged forward and kissed me hungrily, his tongue delving into my mouth to tangle with mine. His hands were tightly wound in my hair, but didn’t pull or tug. He just held me there, like if he let me go I would dissipate. He’d never kissed me like this, but I’d never kissed him when he was a Niall who knew how much I loved him. And he’d never kissed the Rose that had finally stopped running and admitted her feelings to him.

“My birthday present to you feels shitty now.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled to the surface. “This wasn’t your birthday gift.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “This was more. So much more.”

He kissed me again, his touch sure and unwavering. “Thanks for loving me, Rosebud,” he whispered, repeating my words from so many months ago.

So I decided to repeat his back. “It’s the easiest thing in the world, Niall.”

Oh my god. Wildflower is over. I cannot believe this. This started as a random thought in my head one day because I needed a good friends to lovers but with a twist, and suddenly Rose was born. This is the first story I’ve finished on this blog and will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you to everyone for reading this little story and for all your support. I refuse to let go of Niall and Rose forever, so don’t be surprised if I write little drabbles for them, but I’m excited for what the future holds in terms of my writing.

I give one big giant virtual hug to all of you. You don’t know how much you guys mean to me.

#wf #wildflower #1dff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan au

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blursed-ninjago-ideas · 4 years

Text

Warning: Prior character death (Both human and animal), illness-induced violence from a wild animal, consumption of human flesh by said wild animal and a lot of rotting bodies.

The ninja found out about MourningCryptid!Jay's backstory when they headed into Ed n Edna's scrapyard looking for the cryptid

They went to ask if the couple had seen anything, but when they entered the trailer it was

Dead.

Silent.

It looked like some animal had torn through the inside of the building, broken glass, shredded fabric, photos scattered all over the floor.

Nya picked up one of the photos. It showed three people, a kindly-looking couple and a small child, proudly holding up a strange, hodge-podge little device, Jay's first invention written on the back, alongside a date from about eleven years ago.

Kai found an old book of fairytales. "The Gate to Heaven...?"

"I've heard of that one, Supposedly there was this guy who lost his wife and he asked a wizard to let him see her again. The wizard used his magic to bring him up to the edge of the Departed Realm. The guy sees her but then the wizard has to take him down because their magic is running out and if they don't they'll both be stuck there... It's really sad."

Cole then decides to open a large door towards the back. The scent is what hits him first, his eyes watering as he sees what's in there. The room is a mess, even more so than the previous one. There's a gift-wrapped present lying on it's side at the foot of the bed, a patched-up video camera dropped on the floor and a massive dog's corpse rotting into the carpet.

But that wasn't what caught his eye.

No, it was the torn up corpses of Ed and Edna Walker, decaying limbs and organs spread over the bed and across the walls. He-he needed to go hurl-!

They took the camera, but not much else. They decided to take a look at the video, to see if they could figure out what happened. (And hopefully, something to defeat the cryptid)

The video started, but they weren't expecting the youthful face that popped on the screen.

"-s this thing on? Good! Hi Ma! Hi Pa! So I know you like having all those old videos of me opening up presents for my birthday, but you never have any of yourselves, so I'm gonna surprise ya!"

The young man rambled for a bit before about how he'd been looking for certain parts for weeks and that he had just gotten back from a school field trip before finally entering.

The state of the trailer was the same as it was when they found it. The rambler's voice began to shake

"Mum? Dad? Haha, v-very funny. D-did dad mess with the vaccuum again?"

A shuffle came from what they now knew to be the master bedroom. The camera shook as the frightened teenager inched his hand towards the door, before flinging it open.

For sixteen, stretched out seconds the camera froze on the scene before it, as though it too was horrified at what it was witnessing.

A massive dog the size of a foal stood on the bed, chewing away at a dismembered arm, blood staining around it's lips as it ate at it's prey.

It looked up, eyes glazed over with a sickly film, before rushing towards the cameraman, teeth bared and ready to kill.

Then there was a flash of bright blue light, a load squeal and a sound akin to a insect throwing itself on a bugzapper, then the camcorder went dead.

It took a while for them to process everything. Most of them had to vacate their stomachs before they could even try to do so.

That dog killed an entire family, Kai thought, but when he spoke this aloud, Zane countered.

"No. The dog did not kill everyone. We did not find the son's body, but the dog's body was inside the room."

"Jay. I think his name is Jay." said Nya, as she pulled out the photo.

"Wait, if this guy survived, then where is he now?" Questioned Lloyd.

"This event was most certainly highly traumatic. He most likely fled the scene." stated Zane

"What I wanna know, is what that flash was." Cole chimed in

"It almost sounded like someone was getting electrocuted."

"So what, this guy had a taser with him?"

"Perhaps."

While Cole and Zane discussed the bright flash something lurked in the back of Kai's mind.

"What if he's like us?"

"What?"

"I mean, Cole's got Earth powers, Zane's got Ice powers, maybe this guy has Electric powers?"

Now that was a thought. Electric powers would explain the end of the video.

"Wait, Didn't the towers have lightning rocks in them?"

"Technically they are called Fulgurites, but yes."

"You think that Jay has something to do with the towers?"

"I don't know, but the only way to find out is to find him."

Holy shit Anon.

-[R]

#blursed ninjago submissions #blursed ninjago ideas #ninjago #submission #Mod [R]#cryptid!jay au

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samsonet · 5 years

Text

Mum said it's my turn on the Switch.

Sometimes, Leon’s family comes to Wyndon to visit him.

Today’s one of those days. He’d been looking forward to it for a while, even cleaned up his flat so his mum and brother wouldn’t tease him for living in a mess. He’d gotten groceries. He’d gotten some new toys for Hop. It’ll be a good day, if it goes according to plan.

The doorbell rings.

“Hey!” Leon says, opening the door. “It’s so good to see yo—”

Hop slips under his arm and disappears down a hallway. A door slams.

“...is he okay?”

Their mum sighs. “He’s getting to the age where he’s too cool to spend time with his family, that’s all. I’m sorry, Leon. Here, why don’t we cook together? He’ll come out if he smells his favourite food.”

She opens a few cabinets before she finds the pans.

It’s been too long since they’ve gotten to cook together. Leon remembers the first lessons, back when he was a little kid. He’d been so excited, thinking of adventures and new experiences, but Mum insisted on teaching him how to make curry before he left. He’d whined and complained, but he still followed her directions and came out with something pretty good.

Even now, he follows her directions, getting the meat and potatoes as she starts up the stove.

“You don’t have much silverware,” Mum observes. “Do you ever have company?”

“Heh. Nobody I cook for. Raihan and Nessa come over, sometimes, but we usually order takeaway.”

He stops halfway through mashing a potato, letting himself think. Why doesn’t he ever cook for them? He’s capable of it. Years of being the man of the house (of being Hop’s second parent) have given him the necessary skills. He might actually enjoy cooking alongside his friends, too.

But…

Cooking with someone, cooking for someone… It’s what he does with his family. If he did it with anyone else, it would be like having a new family. He’s not ready for that kind of intimacy.

“Something wrong, Leon?”

“Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry. It’s just… been awhile since we got to see each other, you know? I really missed you and Hop.”

Mum looks at him, an undefinable emotion in her eyes.

She opens her arms. “Come here.”

He has to lean down and she has to stand on her toes, but the hug is warm and comfortable.

His mum steps back first. “Hop missed you too, you know. He’s such a lonely child.”

“Is that so…”

Hearing about Hop’s troubles always makes him feel guilty. As a big brother, he should be present whenever Hop needs him, not available over the phone from 3:00-3:30 on Tuesday and Thursday.

It’s not that he doesn’t care. Being champion just keeps him busy, and he lives so far away. He wishes things could be different, but...

“Are you sure you don’t want to move to Wyndon? I could get you a place, easy.”

“I know.” Mum stirs the potatoes. “Hop really likes his friend, though. He wouldn’t want to move away from her.”

Hop’s friend Gloria, the girl next door. Leon has never met her, but from the calls and letters he feels like he knows her well. She’s the best friend anyone could ask for. She’s super cute. She’s there for Hop, every birthday, every holiday. She’s the one he can go to when he makes a discovery or wants to try something new.

Not his big brother. Her.

“Well… it’s good he has a friend, at least.”

Mum gives him a sad smile. “I can finish up from here. Why don’t you go tell Hop the food is almost ready? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind talking with you when boring old Mum isn’t there.”

“You’re not boring! But… okay. Love you, Mum.”

She nudges his head down and kisses his cheek. “I love you, too, Leon.”

Down the hallway is Leon’s bedroom. The door is closed, but not locked, and Leon has pushed it open an inch when he hears Hop’s voice on the other side.

“Wyndon is super awesome! At the station, there was this guy with a scarf, or I thought it was a scarf, and then it turned out it was a Sizzlipede! It spooked me! But the guy thought it was funny.”

There’s a girl’s voice, muffled through the wall.

That must be Gloria, he realizes. They’re on a video call.

Seriously? An hours-long trip across the region to come visit, and Hop’s first action on arrival was calling his friend? When did she start becoming so important to him?

The darker side of him answers. When you were gone and she wasn’t.

Leon simultaneously loves and hates her.

You should be happy about this, he tells himself. It’s good for Hop to have a life outside of you. If something happens to you, he’ll be fine.

But is it wrong to want his brother to still miss him like a little kid?

“Knock, knock,” he calls, loudly enough that he hopes Gloria hears it. “I’m coming in!”

“SorryGlogottagobye!”

When he opens the door, he finds Hop innocently turning on the TV and starting up the gaming console.

Leon deadpans, “Mum said it’s my turn to use the Switch.”

“Hahaha… sorry, Lee, I really wanted to play this game and I couldn’t do it at home...”

“Really? Because I seem to remember buying you one just a few months ago.”

He’d bought one for Hop’s friend, too, because the price meant nothing to him and he wanted them to be able to play together. Is it petty to regret that?

“It’s not the same! Your place is so much nicer!”

“Well, then,” Leon says, sitting on the floor next to him. “Mind if I play with you?”

“Er…”

“Unless you think you’re too cool to hang out with your big brother, Galar’s undefeated champion.”

“O-of course not! You’re the coolest person I know!”

He loves to hear that — he always loves to hear Hop’s praise — but he can’t help but think of the abruptly-ended video call, the girl on the other side.

“Are you sure? It sounds like you’ve got someone else you’ve a fan of, now.”

“Wha… You mean Gloria? No way! She’s just a friend!”

It’s adorable, really, the way Hop lets his emotions show on his face so easily. This is a kid who gets to grow up without always being followed by cameras, a kid who gets to be himself and not the person the region wants to see.

If Hop moves to Wyndon, that would change.

Maybe it’s a bit selfish of Leon, but he thinks it might be worth it.

He leans back, watching the game. “I asked Mum about this, but I want to ask you, too. Would you like to move to Wyndon? You could even live here, if you want. There’s plenty of space.”

“Wyndon is really nice,” Hop says. His character punches an NPC so hard, it flies off the screen. “An’ it would be nice to see you more, but…”

“But?”

“I’m Gloria’s only friend. I don’t wanna leave her alone.”

Aw, does Hopscotch have a crush? Leon considers teasing him about it, but decides on a more serious direction.

“You’re a good friend. But you can’t be her only friend forever, you know? You want to be champion someday, right? If you do, you have to move to Wyndon. Being champ has a lot of responsibilities.”

Responsibilities. Ugh. Sometimes Leon forgets that his brother is only twelve. That is much too young to have a dream ruined by thinking about responsibilities.

“I guess what I’m saying is, if you want to move here, you can’t hold yourself back because of someone else. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you, you know?

Hop seems thoughtful. “Yeah, I’ve thought about that. It was the same situation with you an’ Sonia, right? How did you guys make it work?”

“Er…”

They didn’t, that’s how. They’d been even closer than Hop and Gloria were, but after the championship, everything changed. Leon stayed in Wyndon and Sonia went home, and their calls became less frequent and their meetings rare.

He wonders how it must have been for Hop, to watch them slowly falling apart. Was it an adult who pointed out the parallel, or did he realize it himself? How old was he when he put the pieces together?

It happened while you were away.

Leon always won on the pitch, but it felt like he was always losing off of it.

He offers, “Well, growing up is hard. Things change, you know?”

Hop stares up at him, his honey-coloured eyes as all-knowing as ever. He’s obviously not buying it.

“When I’m champion,” he whispers, “I’m gonna buy two flats right next to each other. I’ll have one and Gloria can have the other one, and we’ll still be friends and neighbors and nothing will change.”

No, something will change. You will be champion and she won’t. That’s a big difference.

That's a mean thing to say, though. It’s a nice dream to have, truly. Leon hopes for his brother’s sake that it comes true.

“Will I be invited to your new flat?”

Hop hums. “Sometimes.”

“Can I close myself in your room and play on your Switch?”

Hop laughs, pulling off one of the controllers and hands it to him. “Okay, I get it. You can play. But I’m not going to go easy on you!”

“You better not!”

They start the first round of the multiplayer course.

Across Galar, there have to be hundreds of siblings spending time together. Exploring, training, reading, playing games.

In Wyndon, here and now, Leon is with Hop. They’re playing together, immersed in the game, enjoying each others’ company and having a champion time.

#pokemon swsh fanfic #leon pokemon #hop pokemon

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

My Girl Series: Chapter 7 - Birthday Blues

…in which Harry tries to make it up to Y/N for all the birthdays he has missed.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 6: This Time - Y/N needs a wedding date, and this time Harry’s not giving up.

wattpad link

After Harry had left Holmes Chapel, every spark of joy in Y/N's life slowly died out with the part of him inside of her. The day she turned fifteen was also the first time she'd spent a birthday alone. Celine was abroad for a three-month exchange program. Her grandma, who lived in Brighton had just passed away, so both of her parents had to go there for the funeral. Since she refused to come along, they left her home with her mother's younger sister, aunt Lynn, who was only twenty-two at the time and didn't even bother to remember her name.

"Sweet baby, do not tell your parents that I invite some friends over, okay? Your mum is gonna be so mad," the young woman said, holding Y/N by the shoulders and the teenage girl could only pay attention to the sound of her aunt chewing bubble gum. For some reasons, Lynn always had something in her mouth. If she wasn't chewing gum, she had to make sure her mouth was kept busy by eating something, or someone. Y/N had met her three times before but each time she was snogging a different guy. Sadly she was the only option for a 'babysitter', just because Y/N's parents didn't believe their fifteen-year-old daughter was capable of staying home alone.

"But today is—"

"Shit!" The woman exclaimed, holding her head. "You're right! It's Friday night, I should throw a party. Play with your dolls, baby. Your aunt has adult stuff to take care of."

"My dolls?" Y/N muttered under her breath as the bedroom door was slammed shut in front of her eyes. Putting on her favorite song and turning off all the lights, she lied down, staring at the spinning fan above her head.

All the kids her age probably spent their fifteenth getting drunk and making out with their crushes, or losing their virginity without their parents knowing. But there she was, locked in her room while her aunt was having all the fun she was supposed to have. For the first time in her life, she found herself alone. She'd always been a loner, yet she had never actually felt it until that night. She stayed utter still in silence, holding Thumper close to her chest. The stuffed animal could probably hear every sound of her heart cracking open. Her mother wasn't there to tell her what a woman she'd become, nor was Harry to sing her the birthday song. It was just her, alone in the dark, with a purple bunny that still smelt just like him.

Celine always said that working in the library was the worst decision Y/N had ever made, because there was no job more boring than organizing dusty old books. But the thing was, Y/N loved her boring job. She mainly got paid for sorting and shelving books according to their categorization, which wasn't really hard work, not to mention that Ms. Florence, the librarian, was really easy-going. Y/N got to spend most of her time in the fiction section, avoiding her responsibilities to read and write as much as she wanted. Besides, she really liked her co-worker, whose name was Alice.

Alice was a year younger than Y/N. She liked to talk and Y/N liked to listen, so they were pretty compatible. Finding a drinking buddy in university was easy, Y/N had plenty of them; the hard part was finding a buddy you could trust. So even though Alice wasn't what Y/N would consider a close friend, she could be someone to count on.

"Why is it that every time I see you, you're reading something?"

Alice's voice pulled Y/N's attention away from the novel on her lap, as she looked up and found the tiny brunette smiling at her. Y/N leaned back against the bookshelf, crossing her legs so there was room on the floor for Alice to sit down as well.

"I have a surprise for you, big sis!" Alice said, making Y/N roll her eyes and chuckle.

"You've found another porn book, haven't ya?"

"No! An actual surprise!" The younger girl giggled, then finally showed Y/N what she'd been hiding behind her back. "Ta-da! Two tickets to see Heathers!"

"Heathers The Musical?" Y/N dropped her jaw when the other girl nodded. "I love Heathers!"

"I bet you do! You seem like someone who enjoys dark comedy with tragic endings."

Alice's comment made her laugh, but she couldn't say it wasn't true. Her life itself was already a dark comedy.

"Are you giving me these for free?" She asked, pointing to the tickets and Alice's lips curved into a smile as she nodded fast in response.

"I bought these to go with a friend next week, but we're both gonna be busy that night. So just consider this as my temporary birthday gift to you. I'll buy you something else tomorrow."

"How do you know today's my birthday?" Y/N's eyes went round as her mouth fell open, yet the grin on the other girl's face only expanded.

"I was cleaning Ms. Florence's desk this morning when I found your CV. I didn't have time to actually get you something so—"

"Alice..."

"I know you hate birthdays, but please accept these tickets or else I'll die!"

Y/N rolled her eyes, chuckling a bit at how dramatic that sounded, but eventually, she accepted the birthday gift from her co-worker, and thanked the girl for being so thoughtful. "By the way, there's really no need to get me something else," she said, making Alice snort.

"Don't be silly! You're getting a proper birthday gift from me." Alice barely stood up when she flopped onto the floor again. "Oh, and one more thing! Do you wanna go out tonight? I know this pub that's—"

"No, thanks. I've got a lot of work to do tonight."

"But it's your birthday!"

Y/N gave the girl a shrug, lifting a corner of her mouth as she replied, "I never celebrate it."

"Boo, you suck!" Like a child, Alice blew up her cheeks, eyebrows knitted together. "But if you change your mind, ring me up, big sis!"

Y/N tried to contain her laughter as she watched Alice hop away and almost fall head first when she tripped over a stool. It was only when her clumsy co-worker had gone out of sight that Y/N finally checked her watch and realized her shift was just over. She rose from the floor to place the book back on the shelf, then put the tickets into her bag before heading out. Usually, she would always be the last person to leave, but since it was her birthday, she still wanted to do something special for herself, even if it was something as simple as going home before Ms. Florence.

Instead of taking the bus, that day Y/N decided to walk home. For the first time in two years living in that city, the girl finally paid attention to what was going on around her; it was also the first time she had realized how boring London had always been. The grey color of concrete dominated the entire city; it was hard to spot a hint of green anywhere, unlike Holmes Chapel, her home.

Y/N missed that place so much, now more than ever.

She missed the meadows behind her house at springtime, when all the wildflowers added vibrant colors to the fading green. She missed the tall pine trees surrounding a field full of white poppies. She used to run across that field, imagining herself in the opening scene of The Sound of Music, and she could still hear Harry's voice calling out "Bambi, wait for me!" as he tried to catch up with her.

He was the green that she missed the most.

The sound of her ringtone cut right through that thought, causing the vivid images before her eyes to fade back to monochrome. His name showed up on the screen, as if he knew she had been thinking about him.

"Hello?" She answered, standing close to the wall on her right so she wouldn't get in the way of the other pedestrians.

"Are you on the way home?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I'm just a few blocks away. Why?"

"I'm coming over."

She snorted, pursing her dry lips. "I'm busy tonight, remember? Birthday dinner with Isaac?" That lie was as smooth as melting butter coming from her mouth, yet her insides were heating up and her hands started to shake. She was glad he couldn't see the way she shut her eyes and pressed her lips into a firm line after lying to him.

"I'll see you in five."

"Wait, I said—" Y/N began, yet couldn't finish. Harry had already hung up on her.

The sun was sinking fast now, turning the sky to grey tinged with purple and pink. Harry was already waiting by his car outside the building when Y/N returned, standing with his back facing the ruby-red skyline. With golden-rays casting down upon him, Y/N thought Harry glowed even brighter than the sun itself. But of course, he didn't have to know.

"Happy birthday." His voice was husky and deep as he handed her a white poppy. "Just like the ones back home," he said, and the reluctance from her expression made him feel the need to add, "I didn't buy it. I stole it from a flower shop on the way here."

Y/N didn't know if that was true, but his slop-sided grin made her doubt every single one of his words.

"Headline: Harry Styles stole a flower for a mystery girl!" She said, swiping her hand across the air like she was presenting the idea to him, which only made the beam on his face grow twice as big as he pointed to his car. "Get in, kid," he told her. "Before what you said become reality."

"Where are we going?" She asked in hesitation.

"To your birthday party."

"My birthday party?! But I'm—"

"I'm sure we've got a lot of time before Isaac returns from Italy to take you to dinner."

That one sentence got Y/N tongue-tied. The girl couldn't make a single sound, instead, she was gawking at him like a fool. What did she expect though? He would find out sooner or later because he was still friends with Isaac. So all she could do at that moment was try to come up with an explanation, in case he asked her to tell him why she'd lied. However, he didn't ask her anything. Harry flashed a smile as he walked back to his car and told her to come along. But Y/N refused. She couldn't just follow him blindly without knowing exactly where they were going.

"You're not taking me to a fancy restaurant, are you?"

"Bambi, the last thing I want is for the paps to eat you alive." Harry chuckled and opened the car door for the girl. "Don't worry, kid. It's just gonna be the two of us."

The loud music and laughter from downstairs made it almost impossible for Y/N to even hear the voice inside her head. The birthday blues made it hard for her to stay awake, yet she couldn't sleep either, and there was no way she could talk her aunt into ending the party. Lynn was probably drunk off her ass right now, so Y/N knew the only place for her to be alone with her depressing thoughts was the treehouse. She hadn't gone back there since the night she last saw Harry, but she guessed it had become such a big part of her that she couldn't stay away no matter how much she'd tried.

Still in her pajamas, the fifteen-year-old climbed the rope ladder to get to her childhood spot. The floor was still wet from the rain yesterday, so she leaned against the doorway and stood there to ponder on her own. However, it didn't take her more than three minutes to burst into tears.

Y/N hated crying, it was physically and emotionally painful to cry, and when it was over, what was left was just...nothing. Emptiness. Nevertheless, crying was how Y/N understood herself best. When she cried, she knew who she was. And she had always thought, just like a heartbreak, though crying left her feeling empty when it was over, she would still sigh in relief, because, at least, she knew it was the end.

"Y/N!"

When she heard that voice, the girl stepped closer to the edge of the treehouse and looked down at her neighbor's garden, where she found Harry's big sister with one hand behind her back and the other waving in the air. Y/N quickly wiped away the remaining tears on her cheeks, feeling thankful because if Gemma had come earlier, she might have already seen Y/N bawling her eyes out.

"Gemma! When did you get back?"

"Just a couple days ago. I'm home for two weeks to work on my thesis." The other Styles chuckled. "Glad I found you out here, I was just about to come over."

"To see me?" Y/N lifted both eyebrows, pointing to herself and receiving a nod from her neighbor.

"Yeah, come down here. I have something for you."

The teenage girl hesitated a bit because she couldn't figure out why Gemma wanted to see her and had something for her. Even though she used to hang out with Harry, she was never that close to his older sister. But she climbed down anyway, curious to know what Gemma had behind her back.

"Happy birthday," said the 23-year-old as she handed Y/N the birthday gift she'd been hiding that whole time.

A snow globe.

It didn't have a snowman and a Christmas tree like the ones you normally found in souvenir shops. The one Gemma gave her had colorful glitter inside instead of fake snow; and it was a miniature London, with tiny versions of Big Ben, the London Eye, and the Tower Bridge.

But all Y/N could see, was a person.

"You remember my birthday?" The younger girl asked quietly as she received the gift from her lovely neighbor, who was smiling from ear to ear.

"Of course," Gemma said. "I came to your birthday party every year. But I guess you don't like them anymore, huh?"

"Yeah..." Y/N faked a laugh, hoping her awkward eye-roll didn't give away the fact that she was just lonely.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat but I must get back to work now."

"Sure. Thanks for the nice gift," said Y/N. "Where did you get it by the way?"

"Bought it when I was in London last week."

Y/N didn't say anything else and just watched the older girl walk back to her house. Of course, she wanted to ask Gemma about Harry, but it was so sad to even think about him right now. His sister remembered her birthday and even got her a present, yet she hadn't heard a single word from him since the day he left. He was supposed to be her friend, or was it just another thing she had fooled herself into believing?

Holding the little London between her palms, she thought that maybe it was time to let go of the London inside her heart.

"Don't peek!"

"I'm not peeking!"

Y/N giggled, holding the hand that was covering her eyes as Harry carefully led her up the stairs, giving her directions so she wouldn't trip and cause them both to fall over. She extended her arms once they had reached the top, feeling the cold metal surface in front of them. The creaking sound caused her to flinch, so Harry quickly reassured the girl that it was just him opening the door. She could feel his other hand reaching around her waist to pull the handle, and a cold breeze blew right through her thin shirt. Y/N immediately took a step backward and bumped into Harry's firm chest. She felt the pressure of his fingertips on her hip as he gently pushed her forward, for the third time that night, telling her to trust him.

"If I didn't trust you I wouldn't have walked up all these floors with my eyes closed." She giggled, and his soft laughter sent shivers down her spine.

"Sit," he ordered, holding the girl by the arms to guide her into a chair; and when she was finally seated, Harry leaned in so his lips were close to her ear as he whispered, "open your eyes."

Y/N did what she was told.

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The girl had begun to envision her surroundings ever since the cool air hit her skin for the first time as she stepped out, yet what she saw was far from her imagination.

They were sitting on a rooftop of a tall building somewhere in London. From her spot, Y/N could see the entire city spread below, tiny vehicles rushing along tangled roads. The city lights looked like stars dropping to the Earth, making her feel as if they were being squeezed between two galaxies. There were no words magical enough to describe what she was seeing, so Y/N didn't say anything, and just took in a deep breath to let it go with the biggest smile on her face.

It was windy on the roof, so Harry took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. They sat side by side on two wooden chairs, staring at the city and the sky above, completely mesmerized by such beauty, which had completely changed Y/N's opinion about London. Maybe from a different and higher view, it wasn't plain and dull after all.

"Almost like Holmes Chapel, huh?" She heard him speak and turned to look at him. Harry was gazing up with a beam on his face as he pointed to the sky, and told her the names of the stars he knew, not aware that she wasn't really listening. She was too busy looking at him, and thinking, maybe somewhere underneath that man was still the little boy she used to know.

"Oh, I forgot!" He suddenly flinched and turned to pick up the box at his feet. "I made this for you. But...the rest of the batch...already ended up in the trash bin."

He opened the box and revealed one single cupcake with a candle on top. It didn't look terrible, still, it wasn't a very pretty cupcake either. But if that was the best out of the whole batch, Y/N couldn't help but snort as she tried to imagine what the other ones looked like.

"Hey, don't laugh at me! At least I tried!"

"Okay, okay." Y/N bit her lip to hold back a smile. She didn't know why it was so endearing that he'd exerted himself to make her one cupcake. Even if he'd got it from a store instead, she would still be overjoyed.

"Can I eat it now?" She asked, but he quickly shook his head no.

"You have to make a wish first."

Y/N giggled, eyes bored into Harry as he looked around to find something else. "Shit!" His jaw went slack. "The lighter! I forgot the lighter."

"Relax, lemme check," Y/N mumbled, reaching inside the inner pocket of his coat to search for the object, and she felt something like a little triangle box, assuming it was the lighter. But when she took it out, both of them froze as they saw what it really was.

A pack of cigarettes.

Y/N's mouth fell open, she was speechless, and so was he. "Harry..." Her voice was quiet when she looked at him. "Do you smoke?"

"No." He shook his head fast. "N-Not anymore."

"Really?"

"Why would I lie?" A blush crept up his face as he made eye-contact with her. "If I still smoked, I would have a lighter with me, right?"

That sounded like a good enough reason for her to believe him. Moreover, he didn't smell like someone who smoked, and she'd never seen him with a cigarette between his fingers before. So apparently he was telling the truth. Y/N inhaled deeply as she nodded, squeezing his hand for more assurance.

"Smoking could kill you. So don't...don't go back to it..." The way she could barely maintain eye contact while saying that to him made his heart flutter somehow. He took her other hand, linking their fingers together as he asked, "are you worried about me?"

"Of course I am," she said without pause. "I can't bear the thought of losing you."

The corners of her mouth turned down and her whole face contorted so he knew she was serious when she said those words. After all this time, he still mattered to her; and knowing that was like getting a heavy weight lifted off his chest.

Harry sank into his chair, holding the mini calendar above his face. "It's already April," he mumbled to himself, but his roommate Isaac assumed Harry was talking to him, so he replied, "yeah, almost time for finals."

It wasn't finals that came to Harry's mind when he thought about April, it was a birthday actually. He rarely remembered birthdays, and sometimes he forgot his own; but for some reasons, he always remembered hers. He hadn't spoken to Y/N since the night he left, and he could never forget the way she looked at him when she asked him to kiss her. It was awkward, yet it was sad. She truly cared about him, and he could never repay the same kind of feelings because she was too young. So he didn't know how to talk to her again after everything she'd confessed. The last thing he wanted was to lead her on and lull her into believing that one day he might feel the same. He knew he could never like her back the way she wanted him to.

However, it would be a lie to say he didn't miss her. He missed her a lot. How could he forget about his little Bambi? She was the only girl he'd spent the best years of his childhood protecting and looking after. She was something more than just the girl next door, and he kept the image on her face on the treehouse that night in his memory as he left Holmes Chapel with no intention of coming back. Every time he thought about her, a part of him wanted to pay her a visit, but he was glad he didn't change his mind. But now her birthday was coming close, and he knew she wanted him to be there with her. He wanted to be there with her. But he couldn't.

"Isaac," Harry broke the silence in the dorm room, turning his head to look at his best friend who was lying on the bed. "What should I give a fifteen-year-old girl for her birthday?"

The sudden question made Isaac lift an eyebrow. "I thought you only had a big sister?"

"Uhm...it's actually for my...my...cousin."

"Well, I'm bad at this stuff. Why don't you ask Niall?"

Harry rolled his eyes and scoffed. "He would just give me crazy ideas."

"Then ask the birthday girl herself." Isaac shrugged, sticking out his bottom lip. "I mean, try to be subtle and find out what she likes without giving away the fact that you don't know what to get her."

If only it was that easy. Harry shook his head and put the calendar back down. He used to be the one who knew about her more than anyone else, probably only second to her mother, he should be able to know what she liked, but right now he didn't. He knew nothing about her anymore. It was only then that he started to feel bad for all the time he didn't spend with her. But had he not kept his distance, their goodbye would've been much harder.

So he tried to think, swirling the pencil in his hand for a couple seconds. And finally, an idea came to his mind. Maybe there could be a way for him to come back to her after all.

For the rest of the night, Harry and Y/N sat in their chairs, eating pizza for dinner while discussing irrelevant topics like the existence of aliens, strange kinds of flowers, as well as their favorite movies, songs, and books. Soon both grew tired so they fell back to silence. He was staring at the city, and she was taking in the sight of him.

"Are you mad that I lied to you?" Her sudden question made him turn around with an eyebrow raised. "You know, about Isaac."

"I'm not mad at you, kid. But I'd like to know what happened..." Harry couldn't say he had heard most of the story from Niall because he wanted Y/N to tell him herself, if she trusted him enough, and of course, he didn't expect her to. But somehow she did. She ended up telling him everything.

"I didn't want Isaac to turn down the job offer for a relationship that would probably never work." She sighed with her chin on her knuckles, hooded eyes staring blankly ahead. "I liked him a lot. And I thought to myself that if he asked me to be his girlfriend, I would say yes immediately. But when it happened, I got scared. I couldn't let him in because I was afraid that if he knew too much about me, he wouldn't like me anymore. I guess I'm just not ready to fall in love again, and I don't want him to wait for me to be ready. My first and only relationship didn't end very well. So I didn't have the heart to let the same thing happen to us." Holding her breath, she said, "He's too good for me anyway. I'm better off alone."

"Nobody is better off alone," Harry spoke at last, a line appeared between his brows. "Everyone needs someone."

"Not me." She shrugged, and the look in her eyes broke his heart in a million pieces. "I'm sorry I had to lie to you...I didn't want you to do anything for my birthday. I've troubled you enough already."

"But you're not troubling me, love. I did all of this because I wanted to. I...I care about you."

She couldn't remember the last time she heard him say those words, or if he'd ever said them at all. So to hear them now made her feel happy and sad at the same time. If there was one thing that she'd learned from their 'relationship' it would be, Harry's words weren't always credible.

"How did you find this place though?" She changed the subject, putting on a smile to lighten up the mood, which had gotten a bit blue since Isaac was mentioned. She could see it from the look on his face that he was also glad she'd brought up something else.

"Niall's uncle owns this building. They're doing some reconstructing so it's closed for a couple months. It might be the only place we could be together without people bothering us."

"Thank you." Y/N took in a long breath as she smiled. "I've never seen London so beautiful."

"Agreed." Harry nodded fast. In this bad lighting, his dimples seemed even deeper than they actually were. "But my favorite is the winter time. The city looks best when it's covered in snow."

Those last words made Y/N's head turn as her eyes went round.

"It was you, wasn't it?" she cried out, causing the man to jump in shock. He was meant to ask, but she didn't even let him have his chance. "The snow globe! You asked Gemma to give it to me, did you?!"

"Ouch!" He yelped when she smacked him hard on the arm. The girl didn't look very sorry when he rubbed the sore spot and his brows drew together in utter perplexity.

"Why did you ask her to lie for you?! I was so sad, I thought you didn't remember my birthday!"

"I thought it was for the best if you forgot about me, after..."

There was a pause, a gap for her to fill in.

"Our first kiss...I know," she mumbled at last.

It was weird to talk about it now, since both of them had been pretending like the kiss she'd stolen from him when she was fourteen had never happened. After all, she was fourteen at the time, he couldn't blame her for acting so impulsive. But recently he'd been thinking about it and wondering if her feelings back then had been all true.

Her eyes darted as she whispered under her breath, but still loud enough for him to hear, "why didn't you send me anything on my birthday next year or the ones after that?"

"I...I wanted to...I almost did." He swallowed hard while fidgeting in his seat. "But Gemma said you were seeing this boy, so I thought I should stay away from your life and let you forget about me for good. Then time passed and I actually didn't think a lot about you, until..."

She nodded without waiting for him to finish, her lashes fluttered as sadness overtook her face. After a moment of thinking, she asked, "if you could turn back time, would you come back to see me?"

"Yes," he answered. "Without a second thought."

Y/N had seen Harry in a lot of different situations, yet she'd never seen him like that, all flustered and ill at ease. She loved the way the rings on his fingers sparkled as he was nervously toying with the hem of his shirt. She loved it when even under the dim lights surrounding them, she could see a blush creep up his face. She knew better, that it was never good when she felt so drawn to him, yet she couldn't stop, so she released a slight laugh, which got his attention.

"Why are you laughing?" He asked.

Shaking her head with the grin still remained, she said, "nothing."

As he walked with her five floors up to her flat, Harry struggled to find something to say so the silence carried on until they reached her front door. He couldn't explain why he was at a loss for words every time he stood in front of her. He knew her well, he'd grown up with this girl. But deep down inside he knew it wasn't like that, not anymore. He knew his heart had more to say about her than it should, and the way it began to race whenever she was around had him frustrated most of the times.

He watched her unlock her front door and turn to say goodbye. But just when she was about to leave, he stopped her by taking her hand. It wasn't the first time they'd held hands, still, he let hers go after about two seconds like it was hot coal burning his skin. Maybe it was, maybe she was, yet he couldn't stay away because he enjoyed the burn. With round Bambi eyes, she stared at him, slightly puzzled by his strange behaviors. Harry asked her to wait. He searched in his pants pocket, finally pulling out a silver locket necklace.

"Your birthday present."

"Harry—"

He shushed her right away, telling her to turn around as he took a step closer to put the chain around her neck. His fingers brushed against her collarbone only once, but it was enough for both of them to flinch at the contact. Y/N gently touched the heart-shaped locket now lying on her chest, then opened it to find a tiny photo of her mother.

"So you could always keep her by your heart," he whispered, his voice was low and hot against her ear.

Slowly, Y/N turned around, but Harry didn't pull away so they were just one step away from pressing against each other. She meant to just thank him and go inside her flat, but as she parted her lip, not a single sound managed to escape. Her cheeks turned pink, her bottom lip was quivering as she batted her lashes. She had never looked into his eyes for that long, and the look he was giving her made her pupils dilated. It was the same look she'd seen him give that blonde haired girl on the treehouse when he was seventeen. He had never looked at Y/N that way before, and now he did. If only she could read his mind, she would know he was also trying to do the same.

Harry knew it was wrong, but he couldn't resist. The last time he had the same feeling, he wasn't thinking straight so he went for it by instinct. Now he knew exactly what was happening, and still, he didn't stop it. He leaned in a little closer, their foreheads touching. He expected her to pull away or even slap him for making that bold move, yet she stayed exactly where she was, chest heaving with anticipation. Her scent was flooding his senses, and the second he finally found the courage to place his hands on her hips, it was she who decided the next move.

Her lips brushed against his. Not innocently, but hot and passionately, he wanted to pull away before he lost control, but like a magnet, she drew him in more and now he was stuck. "Harry," she whispered slowly, making his heart flutter as he clasped his hands on either side of her face.

That kiss wasn't like the first or the second, this time it was an open-mouthed, almost sexual kiss. He pushed her against the door, loving the way her body melted into his as their lips fitted perfectly like they were made for each other. She held his hair and he held her so tight as if he was afraid it wasn't real, and she would disappear the moment he loosened his grip. They broke away after what seemed like ages, and from the look in her eyes, he could tell she expected him to run, just like he had before.

But he didn't. Even if he wanted to, he knew his trembling feet wouldn't let him. She stood with her back against the door, him with one hand on her hip, the other fisted to rest beside her head. He inhaled sharply and she was still trying to steady her breathing. It took almost five seconds for either to open their eyes and look at the other person.

"Goodnight," she mumbled, reaching behind for the doorknob and the next thing he knew, she had fled inside and shut the door right in front of his face. Harry was left standing in the hallway like an idiot, not knowing what to do next. He lifted a fist, about to knock because there were still many things that he wanted to say to her, an apology was one of which. But he thought again and decided that he should probably go.

Harry left the building, stepping out on the street with his head still on the cloud as he kept touching his lips, trying not to smile so big or else people would think he was insane. But maybe he was, because he was too happy to act differently. He got into his car and sat there with both hands on the steering wheel, head tossed back, smiling contently. His whole face was red, but he didn't really mind. He was soaked in the scent of her perfume, and all he could think about was how he could possibly fall asleep with every trace of her lingering on his body.

His phone lit up in the dark, notifying a new text from Bambi which got him to sit up straight at once. His heart could've exploded when he read the first line, if the next one hadn't come on in less than a second.

⌲ Bambi: That kiss was a mistake.

⌲ Bambi: You're gonna have to earn it next time.

⌲ Next time? :)

⌲ Bambi: Don't be smug about it!

⌲ I'm not! But wait, on the scale from 1-10, how great was tonight? (minus the kiss)

⌲ Bambi: 7/10 (including the kiss)

⌲ Heeeeeey!

Sitting at her working desk, chin resting on her palm, Y/N cracked a smile. The birthday surprise, as well as the kiss they'd shared in the hallway, were definitely 11/10. But she couldn't give it to him that easily. She placed her phone down, leaving his latest message on read as she touched the chain around her neck once again.

The London snow globe was still sitting on her desk, and she hadn't touched it in so long that it was a bit dusty now. She kept it there so it could remind her of the terrible birthday she should already forget, but she didn't want to. It was a way of telling herself that sometimes the people you loved would leave you behind, and that was just a cruel fact of life that one should just accept and carry on. But now that she knew it wasn't all true, the way she felt about the snow globe had also changed.

Quickly, she typed down 'Thank you for the locket' and sent it to him, then while waiting for him to reply, she sent another text right after.

⌲ I have two tickets to see Heathers The Musical

⌲ H: Yes.

⌲ I haven't even asked?

⌲ H: Whatever you're gonna ask, it's a yes.

⌲ Have you even watched Heathers?

⌲ H: There's always Google! Send me the date and time, my assistant will get back to you shortly.

⌲ Haha funny.

Y/N rolled her eyes and giggled as she snapped a quick shot of the tickets Alice had given her and sent it to him.

⌲ H: Wednesday night! I'm free!

⌲ You sure there's not another award show that night? I'm gonna kill you if you skip another one for me.

⌲ H: Nah I'm not supposed to attend any event next week. If you don't believe me, google it!

⌲ Oh God.

⌲ H: Say that instead of my name 'next time'.

Y/N's face turned scarlet when she read that line. She sucked in her bottom lip, face-palming herself with her eyes shut and wishing she hadn't moaned his name into the kiss. That couldn't have been more embarrassing. She typed down a few words, trying to come up with a reply that would save herself from the humiliation, yet she kept typing and deleting for three times or so. Then came two new messages from him.

⌲ H: It's late. Go to sleep Bambi. Good night.

⌲ H: Once again, happy birthday! :)

The twenty-year-old smiled to herself as she sent him back a goodnight text. Y/N knew she should get to bed now if she wanted to wake up early for a class in the morning. But she also knew it would take forever for her to fall asleep. This time, fortunately, it wasn't gonna be the birthday blues that kept her up all night.

#my girls series #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfics #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #bestfriend!harry #older!harry #actor!harry

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chuffyfan87 · 4 years

Text

Growing Pains. Part 16a (NSFW)

Cowritten with @disastrousintention. Trigger warning for discussion of eating disorders.

-x-

Jake rose early on his eighteenth birthday and after opening his presents he headed out the house. His parents presumed he was going over to Krystal's so were surprised when she turned up on their doorstep a couple of hours later.

“Hi,” Charlie said with a smile. “I thought Jake was already with you?”

"No, we agreed to meet here." Krystal replied, bemused.

“We haven’t seen him since about 9am this morning.”

"His phone just rang when I called him to say I was coming over."

Charlie frowned, “Come in. I don’t know where he’s gone.”

"He mentioned having something important to sort that he had to do this morning but he said he'd be back by now."

“Do you know what that was?”

"No, he wouldn't tell me. Said it was a surprise."

“Ok.”

It was about twenty minutes later when Jake arrived back at the house. Just as everyone was starting to get concerned about where he'd disappeared to.

“Where have you been?” Charlie asked Jake as he made himself known.

"Sorry, I didn't expect there to be such a long queue."

“A long queue for what?” Krystal asked, “I’ve been here ages, you said you wouldn’t be long.” She pouted.

"Sorry. Is everyone else here?"

“Do you want the whole family in the living room?” Charlie asked.

"Please dad." Jake smiled.

Charlie got everyone including Duffy into the lounge. The only people that weren’t there were Holly and Peter.

"So, um, you're probably all wondering where I've been this morning..." Jake began.

“Yes, where have you been?”

"Well you all know that I recently managed to get Andrew's parental rights removed and whilst that was great there was one thing that it didn't achieve. But I was able to do that today." Jake grinned.

“What’s that?” Tilly asked as she frowned and tilted her head.

Jake pulled a certificate out of his pocket and held it up for the others to see. "Say hello to the newest member of the Fairhead family."

Charlie’s eyes filled with tears, “Is that what I think it is?”

"Yep. Changed it by deed poll."

Charlie smiled brightly, “That’s amazing!”

"I've kinda been telling people that's my name anyway for years but now it's official."

Charlie wiped away a tear from his cheek.

"It'll take a while for all the rest of my paperwork to catch up but I don't really care."

Duffy smiled brightly, “That’s amazing news Jake!”

"So you're a Fairhead like us now?" Lottie asked.

Jake nodded, “I certainly am.”

"Cool."

“Now we’ve all got the same name.”

"Fairhead bundle!" Tilly yelled, diving towards Jake.

Jake smiled as he wrapped his arms around his sister. The rest of the siblings dived on Jake resulting in a Fairhead family sandwich!

"If you've finished squashing him can I give him his present now?" Krystal giggled as the gang separated.

“Course, long as it ain’t a snog.” Tilly replied.

"Don't worry, I'll save that for later." Krystal chuckled before reaching into her bag and handing Jake a wrapped package.

“Urgh, gross!” Tilly pulled a face.

Jake took the present, “What’s this?” He asked as he began to unwrap the present.

"Just a little something for now." Krystal winked.

Jake grinned. He opened the present and gasped.

"You like it?"

“Krystal, I love it babe!”

"Thought you could use it when you go backpacking."

“You’re gonna come with me though, right?”

"For the summer leg certainly."

Jake smiled, “Good! I’m glad.”

"Can't let you explore the Far East without me."

Jake grinned, “Definitely not, babe!”

"Its going to be so weird without you here all summer." Emily remarked.

“I’ll be back before you know it, Em.”

"You better take loads of photos of all the things and places you see."

“I will, I promise.”

There was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Charlie moved from the sofa to grab the door.

"Morning Charlie. Is the birthday boy awake?" Kate asked as Charlie opened the door.

“Hi Kate.” Charlie kissed his mother in law's cheek as he stepped aside to invite her in. “He’s in the living room.”

Kate headed into the lounge and Charlie was about to close the door when he saw Peter's car pull up in front of the house.

“Hi son.” Charlie called as Peter got out of the car.

"Is doofus in?" Peter called as he and Holly headed towards the house.

“One day you’re going to stop calling your brother that.” Charlie rolled his eyes playfully, “To answer your question though, yes Jake’s in.”

"Nah, once a doofus, always a doofus!" Peter laughed, heading into the house.

“I heard that!” Jake called from the living room.

"You were meant to doofus!"

Jake rolled his eyes.

"Happy birthday Jake." Holly smiled as she handed over his present.

“Thanks.” Jake took the present, “You didn’t have to buy me a present, you know?”

"Its nothing major. Just some new clothes for your trip."

“Thanks.” Jake kissed Holly's cheek.

There was a definite theme in Jake's presents.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were all wanting to get rid of me.” Jake laughed.

"Darn it, you've figured out our fiendish plot!" Tilly teased.

Jake glanced over at his mum. Maybe going travelling at the minute wasn’t the best idea..?

Duffy spotted Jake's expression and decided to cut off any fretting. "So now everyone is here shall we have some cake?"

“Yeah lets!” Lottie replied.

Duffy nipped into the kitchen and brought the cake she'd made through, eighteen candles lit on top.

As his family sang happy birthday to him, Jake blew out the candles on his cake.

Duffy had only cut a couple of slices before the twins dove in.

Charlie laughed, some things never changed with the twins.

Duffy sighed as she could feel Charlie, Peter, Jake and Emily try to pretend they weren't watching her as she ate.

“This cake is delicious, mum!” Lottie said with her mouth full.

"Yeh, you make the best cakes mum!" Tilly agreed.

Charlie followed Duffy into the kitchen once she’d finished, “Are you okay?” He asked.

"I'm fine." She replied reflexively.

“Talk to me?”

"Can you believe he's eighteen?" She asked, not turning to face her husband.

“Only seems like yesterday that you told me you were pregnant with him.” He moved to stand in front of her.

"Took me forever to pluck up the courage to tell you."

He placed his hand against her cheek.

"And now he's a grown man about to set off on a big adventure."

“Can we go out for a few hours? Go for a walk? Or a coffee?”

"If you like. I think Jake is planning to go out with his friends later on."

“I want us to do something together. I feel it’s been a while that it’s just been me and you.”

"OK. I'll see if mum can watch the boys."

“We’ll only be an hour or two, max.”

"OK..." She replied, shooting him a suspicious look.

Kate agreed to watch the youngest two boys for a couple of hours so Charlie and Duffy could go out.

Upon leaving the house Duffy was curious to see where Charlie planned to take her.

They went for a walk, “I wanted to talk to you about how your treatment session went?”

"I told you already that it was fine." She sighed.

“You say fine too much.”

"And you fuss too much!"

He shrugged, “What did they say? Are you bulimic? Or are you a mixture of both?” They sat on a bench in an open field.

"According to the dietician I have a varient on the binge-purge anorexia subtype." She replied softly, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

He placed his hand over hers, interlocking his fingers through hers. “Ok. And how can we get through this?”

She shrugged. "I've managed three days without being sick. I've wanted to but I didn't let myself." She whispered.

“And I’m so proud of you, you know that don’t you?” He smiled and kissed her cheek, “Do you have distraction techniques?”

"Yeh."

“What are those?”

"Its difficult to explain. I could maybe show you next time I need to?"

He nodded, “I’d like that.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, “You and I are in this together and I want to be there as much as you’ll allow me to be.”

"I'd prefer it if you told the kids to stop watching me like a hawk whenever there's food nearby."

“The kids just worry about you but I’ll tell them to stop watching you.”

"I know, I know. Its just... At least Emily is somewhat subtle. The boys on the other hand..." She rolled her eyes.

“Boys can’t be subtle. It’s just in our nature.”

"So I've noticed." She snorted.

He kissed her nose.

"Is this why you insisted on dragging me out here? To interrogate me?"

“No. To ask you without little ears listening in on our conversation.”

"Little ears that jump to all the wrong conclusions." She sighed.

“Like Tilly? It was because Lottie mentioned you had a stomach ache again and have done for a few days.”

"So of course they put two and two together and made five." She sighed.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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luckyspike · 5 years

Text

Adventures in America, Ch. 7 - The Mix-Up Kid

In which the storm chasers enjoy the delights of a Waffle House

Adam learns Warlock’s birthday

And a storm brews ahead

Yes, figuratively, but also literally. This is a tornado-chasing fanfiction, honestly. Did you think I wouldn’t actually put a tornado in the damn thing?

Start from the beginning: ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

or follow this link to my fanfiction tag

Adam could have whooped when Noel informed him and Lucky that they wouldn’t be meeting in the lobby until eight the next morning. “There’s gonna be storms, probably to the northeast, but it’ll be afternoon by the looks of it. Get some sleep tonight, boys, an’ we can meet up for a late breakfast and decide where we’re headed.”

They didn’t unpack much - pajamas, toothbrushes, and that was about it. Adam took a hot shower, quick as he could, and when he got out, he found Lucky laying on top of his covers, earbuds in, face-timing with a friend. Adam gave him a thumbs-up - his turn for the shower if he wanted it - and settled onto his own bed, pulling his phone out and making sure he was connected to the wifi before he texted his parents to see if they were awake - they hadn’t been, but they were so eager to hear from him that they took his call, voices thick with sleep but happy nonetheless. He could hear Dog snoring on their bed in the background.

They were happy to talk to him. They were glad to hear he was having fun, and reminded him to be careful and stay safe. He told them about Lucky, and Noel and Rachael, and everything he’d learned so far. “It sounds like a good experience,” Arthur Young said. “Just ah … you do know when the tornadoes are coming, don’t you?”

“I mean, largely. They can be unpredictable.” He heard his mother make a worried noise. “No, mum, but like, they have this program called Baron, it’s running all the time, and it shows radar and gives warnings, and Rachael and Noel have been doing this for ages, so they’re really good at it too. And careful.” He considered telling them about the safety precautions Noel had reviewed earlier, but considered that the things he had warned them against might actually be more alarming than the safety instructions that followed, and he decided to leave it out. “Anyway, you don’t need to worry, promise. How’s things at home?”

“All well and good,” his mother replied. “We miss you of course, and Dog misses you - he was sniffing around in your room the day you left - but Anathema said she’d have a word with him and he’s settled down since then.” He heard the dog’s collar jingle as his mother, or father maybe, presumably gave him a scritch behind the ears. “He’s a very good boy.”

Adam grinned at the unmistakable sound of a small dog’s tail wagging so hard it was beating against the bed cover. “Aw, yeah. Give him a hug for me, yeah?”

“Of course, love. Arthur, hug Dog, would you? He’s closer to you.” Adam’s mother yawned, drowning out some of the grumbles in the background and the sounds of more happy tail-wagging. “Have you spoken to your friends? Oh, and Anathema and Newt asked about you this afternoon.”

“Not yet, figured it’s kind of late. I’ll send an email.” He yawned as well, prompted by his mother. “Maybe in the morning. You can tell them I’m good though, if you see anybody.” He yawned again. “Sorry, I’m kind of beat.”

“Jet lag,” his father answered sagely. “You ought to get some rest then, Adam.”

“You guys too,” the boy added earnestly. “Sorry to call so early - I’m all messed up with the time zones -”

“No, Adam, we’ve been waiting to hear from you.” He smiled, and the slight ache of homesickness that had settled in his chest as soon as he’d boarded the plane lifted a little at the warmth in her voice. “Text anytime, love, and we’ll talk if we can.” She blew a kiss into the phone. “But get some rest for now, alright? Sleep well, and let us know how tomorrow goes!”

“Will do, Mum, Dad. Talk to you guys later. Lots of love.” He ended the call, and sat back against the pillows, continuing to tap on his phone, sending the video of the hail storm off to the group and his sister. To his surprise, Pep texted back almost immediately, sending a message of ‘Dude what!’. He paused. Then he called.

“Hey storm rider!” she answered. “What’s up, Adam? Cool video!”

He couldn’t help but grin. “Hah. What are you doing up?”

“Driving in to London with the girls later today, and I couldn’t sleep. Hopefully Addie is willing to drive because I’m going to be napping.” She yawned. “So how’s America?”

“Crazy.” He laughed. “I went to Dunkin Donuts this morning.”

“Mm. America runs on Dunkin, I’m told. You meet anyone cool?”

“Well, the people I’m with are really cool.” She made a curious little noise. “So there’s Noel and Rachael, the guides - I told you about them. They’re super nice. And I think between the two of them they might know everything about weather. We drove for like, 11 hours today, and you know we only went through two entire states?”

“Wow.”

“And I napped for part of it but a lot of it they were teaching us stuff … Man, Pep, there’s so much.” He scrubbed his face with his hand. “I know you guys always made fun of me for how much I talk about weather sometimes, but honestly I don’t know like … anything.”

“Well, maybe not compared to the experts,” she teased. “But compared to me and Brian and Wensley you know way more than any of us.” She coughed. “So who’s ‘us’ on your trip? There’s another student?”

“Oh! Yeah. He’s cool.” Adam heard the shower shut off, and wondered how much he should really say. “He’s American, but he lived in London for a while, he said. You know, I think his dad might have even worked at the air base?”

“No,” Pepper laughed. “No way. Only you, Adam, would find the one American in the entire world who even knows about Tadfield and grew up in London. And of course he’s obsessed with weather. You should find out if he lived in Tadfield at any point, like when he was a baby or something.”

Adam considered it. “Nah,” he said at length.”What’re the odds?” He yawned, as Lucky stepped out of the bathroom, dressed only in boxers, scrubbing his hair dry with a towel. “I’m sure we’ll talk about it at some point.”

“You’d better. Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, me too.” He heard the sound of sheets and pillows being pushed around. “Might try to get a couple hours before I have to go.”

“‘M gonna go to sleep too.” He let his eyes drift closed. “Jet lag’s brutal.”

“I bet. And all that time in the car probably didn’t help.” She yawned again. “Can you send us more videos tomorrow?”

“If I see anything, yeah.”

“You think you might?”

“Dunno. Everything’s supposed to happen in the afternoon, so we’re gonna wait to see what the morning looks like.”

“Well. Send us stuff even if you don’t see anything. Send us videos of weird Americans.”

“Yeah, okay. Talk to you later, Pep.” He hung up the phone, laughing while he did so.

Lucky flopped into his own bed, yanking the covers up over himself. “Friends?”

“Yeah, back home. Pepper.”

“Isn’t England like … six hours ahead of us?”

“Yeah.” Adam shrugged. “I dunno, she said she was up. Figured I’d give her a call.” He grinned at his phone, before locking the screen and plugging it in to charge. “I sent the gang a video of the hail. Most of them prob’ly never seen hail that big before.”

“Yeah, that was wild.” He folded his hands behind his head. “Hope we get a tornado tomorrow.”

“That’d be cool.” He sighed. “Pep told me to send more videos. Said if there wasn’t anything interesting in the weather I could send her videos of crazy Americans.”

Lucky laughed. “I’ll act extra crazy tomorrow if we don’t get any weather. You can send her a video.”

“I’m not sure she’d count you since you grew up in London.”

“Nah, only until I was eleven, and even then other than the like … the housekeepers and the gardner, everyone was American. Well, except Nanny. But she was Scottish.” He shrugged. “Then my dad got reassigned back to the States and I’ve lived stateside ever since. So I’m pretty American.”

“Eleven?” Adam asked, pointedly not opening his eyes. “Huh.”

“Yeah it was weird.” Lucky yawned. “There was this whole thing in the middle east and then boom, back to America, no more England. Honestly, I think my mom was just sick of random diplomatic trips. I’ll tell you about it some time, that whole trip to the middle east was so weird.”

“Yeah,” Adam replied, faintly, feigning fatigue. “Yeah, gotta remember to tell me about it. Never been to the middle east.”

“You’re not missing anything. Avocado farms and weird professors and that’s about it, far as I remember.” He shut the light off, and rolled over, away from Adam. “G’night, dude.”

“Night,” said Adam, on autopilot. Minutes later, he heard quiet snoring, and all the better, because his mind was racing.

Most eighteen-year-old boys are, by nature, not particularly introspective. They may be bright, the may be clever, they may be well-educated and top of their class and very high-achieving, but it’s the rare boy who is capable of reflecting on all of the information presented to him, reconciling it with what he already knows, and then reaching accurate, logical conclusions that may be distressing to him. Often, denial worms its way in early, and until the correct answer knocks the boy in question directly on the head, the powerful lure of denial will always draw him away, convince him that another conclusion is more likely, or more desirable.

Adam Young, though, was not most eighteen-year-old boys. To start, he was the Antichrist, even if he’d turned his back on that years ago and preferred not to think of himself in those terms. Further, he was quietly introspective, a trait he’d developed due to, well, being the Antichrist, and always, in spite of himself, watching his own thoughts for hints of Not Being Adam. Messing About. Antichristly things, essentially.

That could be to his advantage even now, though. And right now, his mind was cranking into overdrive, combing through what he knew. Warlock Dowling - father might have worked in Tadfield, was working in England when Warlock - Lucky - was born, Lucky was raised in England. Satanist nanny and monk gardner. Random trip to the middle east when he was eleven, followed by a sudden departure from London, never to return to the UK again. Or the middle east, come to think of it.

Adam wondered if he had stayed in touch with anybody from London. Particularly, the nanny and the gardner.

It all sounded very suspicious.

“We would have been with you from the beginning, you know, but there was a mix-up,” Aziraphale had told him once, years ago. Adam remembered that he’d gone to Aziraphale crying - it happened sometimes, more then but still these days, blessedly rarely - about what he’d done in the few brief hours when he really was the Antichrist. The things he might have brought about. The fate he and the world had so narrowly avoided. “We would have loved to be with you.” Adam remembered how the angel had hugged him, stroked his hair, dried his tears. “It was an unfair burden to lay at your feet, Adam, and Crowley and I always wanted to help but … there was a mistake. Best laid plans, and all that. It doesn’t undo what was done, and I am frightfully sorry about the lead-up, the way we treated - or didn’t treat - you, but know that had we known, we would have been there. But Adam, even then, you were brilliant. You are brilliant.”

There was a mix-up.

Warlock Dowling snored gently.

The next morning dawned hot and humid. Lucky and Adam woke with the alarm around nine, and lazily set about getting ready for the day. Adam checked his phone to find messages from his friends about the hail storm (“don’t let those brain you,” from his sister and, “dude what if it hits you,” from Brian), replied when he felt it was indicated, and pulled on a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. Lucky was ready to go shortly after, and they stepped out of the motel room and into the air. Lucky made a noise of disgust.

“Talk about humid.”

“Ugh, yeah,” Adam agreed, trying to ignore how his t-shirt was already sticking to his skin, even though he’d only just come outside. “Good storm weather though, yeah?”

“Should be. I’m sure we’ll get a look at the radar over breakfast.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s get us a tornado today, huh?”

“Or some serious hail,” Adam agreed. A part of him - a large part of him - wanted to say sod it to the weather and have a serious talk with Lucky about his upbringing, his birth, his life to that point. How old was Lucky? They were roughly the same age, Adam knew that, but they could easily be a year or so apart, and all of the stuff that sounded suspiciously occult might have just been a coincidence. After all, it was all relatively easy to explain, in the harsh light and oppressive humidity of the Oklahoma day: American diplomat posted at a British airbase, family moved to the nearest metropolitan area, lived there for years, made a brief foray to the middle east - and America was so involved there around that time, Adam remembered, that that was hardly unusual - and then returned to America. Unusual, certainly, but not … occult. And having a diplomat for a father wasn’t exactly commonplace, so even then a bit of unusual-ness could be forgiven.

The Scottish Satanist nanny, though, reared her presence in his mind. The monk gardner. Good and evil.

Adam shook his head, when he realized that Lucky was speaking to him. They’d walked to the truck together while Adam thought and, on autopilot, he had set his stuff in the bed of the truck and closed the gate. Noel and Rachael were nowhere to be seen, not yet, but Adam thought he heard them talking on the other side of the motel. “Huh?” he said, looking to Lucky.

“Nothing,” the other boy shrugged. “Just talking about the radar. All this moisture and warmth - if we have any cold air from the northwest at all, we run a really good chance of catching a storm today.”

“Yup.” Adam leaned back against the truck and looked around the parking lot idly, arms crossed over his chest in spite of the heat. He met eyes with a stranger - a businessman, by the looks of him, dressed all in brown, with neatly-combed salt-and-pepper hair - that was sitting on the trunk of his rental car, reading a book. The two exchanged taut smiles, and the stranger returned to his book. “Hopefully out in the middle of nowhere, where we can get a good luck without too much people an’ stuff being around.”

“Yeah, that’d be ideal.” Lucky waved to Noel and Rachael as they approached. “Hey guys!”

Rachael raised her thermos in greeting. “Morning morning! You guys ready to hit it? The radar looks pretty good.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yep.” Adam opened the back gate of the truck for her, and she tossed her bag in. “You hungry? I’m starving. Hop in, we’re gonna hit the Waffle House and go over the game plan.”

“No Dunkin?” Lucky looked surprised.

“Gonna mix it up today, get exciting.” Noel snickered. “And also she has her own bag that she used to brew a pot in the room earlier this morning, so she’s already fueled-up.” He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “She’s an addict, guys, I’m telling you.”

The boys laughed, while Rachael pointed out, “There’s worse things. Alright, load up, we have a storm to talk about, and I want some waffles!”

The Waffle House was such a uniquely American experience that Adam started taking video almost as soon as they entered. From the way the entire restaurant greeted them as they walked in, to the waiter’s accent, to the menu itself, he sent all of the snaps to his friends. There was no reply, not when it was so early in England, but he looked forward to the messages that would probably come through later, after everyone was up.

He tucked into a truly massive waffle and two eggs for breakfast, topped with a few strips of crispy bacon. It tasted exactly like he’d imagined it would, and he devoured it with gusto, finishing before Rachael even got through her second cup of coffee. Noel, still working at his omelet, pulled his laptop out of his bag and handed it over the table to Adam. “Check out the radar, Adam, and see what you think. There’s some really interesting stuff shaping up; let me know where you think it might be.”

Adam cracked the computer open. Next to him, Lucky studied the screen intently with dark eyes while Adam poked the cursor around the radar screen, randomly at first, and then slowly in a more organized fashion, tracing fronts and pressure systems, gradually hovering more consistently over a spot in mid-Kansas. Lucky nodded, never speaking, when he agreed, pointing at times. Across the table, Noel and Rachael shared companionable silence, Rachael with her coffee cradled in her hands and Noel slowly working at his omelet.

“Ready to show your work?” Rachael gestured to Adam to turn the laptop around, after he and Lucky had exchanged a few words and seemed to settle on a location. “Let’s see it.”

“I think,” Adam said slowly, pointing to the screen, “the best shot of anything happening is going to be right around here.”

“Hey!” Rachael grinned broadly. “Nice job, guys!”

“Yeah?” They exchanged a high-five. “Yeah!”

“Maybe a little more east,” Noel added, after he’d swallowed his last bite of omelet. “But really good for day two! What made you settle on that area?”

Adam and Warlock traded off explanation duties as Rachael settled up with the waiter, she and Noel adding information and correcting them as needed. In the truck, they settled in, Rachael in the driver’s seat for the first leg, and set course for Kansas. There wouldn’t be as much lecturing today, Noel assured them, and although Adam was eager to learn, he was truthfully a little grateful for the break. As they drove across the plains, he and Lucky put their headphones in, Adam listening to his downloaded playlist of tried-and-true favorites while he took video of the blue skies and white clouds, saving them to send later, when he could get to wi-fi. Around nine, he did get a text from Aziraphale - Crowley’s phone, of course, but the grammar and punctuation gave the angel away - bidding him to stay safe and out of trouble. He smiled, faintly, and settled back in the seat to watch the landscape drift by.

Lunch was sandwiches from a little deli they passed on their way through a town for gas. Adam savored the turkey and cheese in the back of the truck, Noel informing them that the time would be tight for the afternoon storms and they couldn’t afford a proper stop. He must have drifted off after he ate, because the next time he woke it was because Rachael had nudged his knee. She pointed to the screen of her laptop, excited. Adam leaned in. “Look at this,” she said, excited. Adam nudged Lucky, who had likewise drifted asleep with his headphones in, and ignored the muzzy noises the other boy made as he woke. “See the body of it there? It’s been holding steady for the last hour.”

Adam squinted. “Is that a hook echo?” He pointed to a part of the screen. Rachael, thoughtful, turned the screen to look. “Ah, no! But it might be an elephant trunk-type signature …” She studied it for a few seconds. “We’ll keep an eye on it. You awake, Lucky?”

“Mm yeah.” Still blinking the sleep from his eyes, Lucky unbuckled his belt, the better to lean forward and study the computer.

“Check out the base velocity data.” She changed views, and both boys blinked. “Do you know what you’re looking at?”

“Not … really.” Adam cocked his head. “Something about the wind speed in relation to the radar site?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Lucky chimed in. “Is it … wait. Green away and red toward? Or red away? Or is it speed …”

Rachael shook her head. “Not quite, but you guys are already ahead of the game - a lot of chasers your age don’t know anything about base velocity until after their first chase. So Lucky, it’s red away, and green toward.” She pointed to the screen. “Doesn’t really have anything to do with the speed of the winds, just how they’re moving in relation to the weather station. So when we’re looking for rotation, obviously, we want to see red and green really close to each other, right?”

“Makes sense,” Lucky agreed.

“So look here.” She pointed. “Now this stuff up here -” she twitched her hand to gesture vaguely at a scattering of red amongst green, “- I think is just artefact but this, this looks concentrated. See that?”

Adam and Lucky exchanged a look. “Like, it’s the dot, right?” Adam guessed.

“More or less.” Rachael flipped back to the regular radar view. “But you see how it correlates to a high-precipitation area? Means there’s probably a mesocyclone in there.” She clenched and unclenched her fingers, excited. “We might get a tornado today, guys. Definitely a lot of lightning, if the precipitation holds together.”

“How far out are we?” Lucky asked, shifting anxiously in his seat.

Noel answered this time. “Probably an hour or two. We should start seeing some more interesting clouds soon. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Adam and Lucky settled back, each looking out of their own window, while Rachael and Noel talked about something else - photography, something with Rachael’s lightning set-up - in the front seat.

“Have you ever seen a tornado?” Adam asked Lucky, as he craned his neck to see more to the front of the truck.

“Oh, yeah! Not up close, but one time in Virginia there was a little one and I could see it from the back yard. It didn’t last very long, but it was really cool. You?”

Adam thought about the tornado in Tadfield, when he was eleven. “Nah,” he said, stuffing the memory away. “Been in a few bigger storms, but you know … England.”

“Yeah, really severe weather isn’t really a big thing over there, huh? They get tornados though sometimes. I think.”

“Really little ones usually, yeah,” Adam agreed. “They don’t last long, normally, or do much damage.”

“I know another chaser from England,” Noel chimed in as he drove. “He comes over for the season every year. We were talking about it one time, he said that England has the second-most tornadoes per land area in the world.”

“Seriously?” Adam blinked.

“Yeah, but it’s a small area.” Lucky frowned. “And they’re not big?”

“No,” Noel agreed. “Not usually. He lives right in what he calls England’s tornado alley.” He laughed. “A little southwest from London I think he said? I can’t remember the name of the town. Most of the twisters there are around 95MPH wind speed, so they’re not really that powerful, but he told me he chases over there sometimes, if he’s home when they’re around. He showed me a few photos.”

“It was pretty cool - you don’t really think about tornadoes in England,” Rachael chipped in, absently. “Where in England is Tadfield, Adam?”

“Northwest of London,” he answered, using the city as a reference point. “About, oh, two hour drive I think, usually.” He did not add that most of the recent times he traveled to and from London by car, the car was being driven by a demon, and travel time was therefore significantly reduced. “It’s not a big village at all. Biggest thing there is the air base, and even that’s pretty small now. Population-wise, anyway. It’s mostly computers.”

“I think that’s why my dad got reassigned to London,” Lucky said thoughtfully. “Plus, you know, diplomat. London made more sense I guess.”

“Yeah it would do.” Adam looked sidelong at the other boy. Lucky didn’t notice, staring out of the window. “So you were born in London?”

“No, actually. It’s kind of a crazy story - my parents were supposed to fly in to the air base together, but my mom ended up having to go alone for a few days because there was something with the president? I dunno, Dad never actually said what it was. But anyway Mom flew in and then like, went into labor while she was staying at the air base waiting for him, so I ended up being born there.” He shook his head.

“Oh.” Born at the air base. Adam could have laughed with the relief of it. Another thought occurred to him. “Aren’t pregnant women not supposed to fly, though?”

“I dunno, probably.” He shrugged. “I guess when the president says go, you go.” He snorted. “And then, so like, she’s at the air base, but then she said they didn’t have a doctor that knew how to deliver babies? So she had to go to this weird hospital with nuns to have me. Worked out in the end, Dad got there after I was born and we went to the place in London like they’d planned.”

Weird hospital with nuns. The words echoed in Adam’s ears, in between the pounding rush of his own heartbeat. Weird nuns. Satanic nuns, maybe? How do you ask if someone was born in a hospital full of Satanic nuns?

“Wild story,” said Rachael from the front seat, but as far as Adam was concerned, she might have been a thousand miles away. “See the clouds up ahead?”

“Supercell!” he heard Lucky say, distantly, and the other boy - the other boy who was born in a weird hospital with nuns, to a politically-connected family, and then raised by a satanic nanny and had a monk for a gardener, and then went to the middle east when he was eleven - leaned forward to start chattering on with Rachael and Noel. About storms.

Adam loved weather, but at the moment, nothing could be further from his mind.

“When’s your birthday?” he blurted out, stopping the other three mid-conversation. And then he blinked, realizing what he’d done, as Rachael and Lucky looked to him, puzzled. “Sorry, never mind, wasn’t paying attention.” He forced a weak smile.

“August 23. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam lied, immediately turning to look out the window. “Wow, check out that cell!”

“... Yeah. It’s big.” Lucky looked over to Rachael, who had raised her eyebrows questioningly. Even Noel was glancing curiously between the two students in the rearview mirror. Lucky shrugged at Rachael, the universal ‘I have no idea’ gesture. “You alright, Adam? Really?”

“Fine.” We have the same birthday, born in a weird hospital with nuns, we’re probably the same age, they thought I was him, they thought he was it, it was him, it was this guy …

“Nerves are totally normal,” Noel said a little more quietly, not taking his eyes off the road, or the storm cell ahead. “Don’t worry - we’re gonna get plenty of videos if anything happens, but we’ll keep our distance. It’s early still - by the time we’re five weeks in you’re gonna wanna drive the truck yourself.”

It was him, he was the mix-up, it was - And then Adam stopped himself, because some part of him realized that this wasn’t productive, he wouldn’t change or alter anything with this line of thinking, and furthermore, he was in the back of a truck which was headed straight for what looked, on radar, to be a supercell with significant tornadic potential. “No, it’s fine,” he insisted, with a shake of his head. “No, I’m sorry. Sorry, really, I think I’m just still a little messed up from the time change, but I’m fine. Seriously,” he added, when Rachael and Lucky looked to him, radiating concern and curiosity. “Let’s do it - I’m so ready.”

Rachael watched his face for another minute and then made a decision, apparently, because she nodded ever-so-slightly, and turned back to her laptop, maneuvering it so the two in the back seat could have a better view of the screen. “Good, because you see that on radar?”

“Hook artefact,” Lucky breathed, as Adam watched the picture twist on the screen, the red blob at the center of the storm leaving a trail to the southwest that was just so slightly starting to curve north-easterly.

“I think so. Let’s take a look at the base velocity.” As she switched views she grinned, and Adam saw what she was moving to point toward right away. “See it?”

“Mesocyclone?” Adam asked, eyes wide, insisting his brain focus on the task at hand. There would be plenty of time to really process the fact that he was sitting with the other Antichrist - the not-Antichrist, the mix-up kid - and hunting tornadoes with him later.

“I think so.” Rachael looked up, out of the windshield, and the students followed her gaze. Ahead, the clouds towered, gray and ominous and piled on top of one another, all the way up to the stratosphere. “Looks good for a tornado, guys.” A bolt of lightning shot through the clouds, illuminating pockets and curves. “Let’s get it.”

Now with Chapter 8!

#good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #adam young #warlock dowling #aziraphale #crowley #the one where they go to america #i wish i didn't enjoy fanfiction so much #the love song to storm chasing via fanfic that no one ever asked for

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venusintimbs · 3 years

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because

you’d stopped texting me back for two days after being a habitually prompt respondent. i was not supposed to call you when i got home from boston. i caved because in part i was getting worried about you. but you were doing great, it turns out, you were having lots of fun with your new roommates (much younger) and trying to engage with, well, younger students otherwise. i say deliberately that my research presentation went well. you said oh sorry yeah, i forgot i’d had an appointment at the same time. not even a “congratulations,” or an “im sorry” or “good luck” before you missed it. i said i didn’t think you’d attend because you’d stopped responding to me. you said oh i’d just hidden the notifications from you so i must’ve missed your messages. now that you had new roommates for friends, and new undergraduate freshmen to flirt with, you didn’t need me anymore, so you were no longer thinking about me or wanting to reach out.

long time ago you screamed at me when i accidentally set off the fire alarm in your kitchen. you said “stop looking at me” and if i wanted to just stand there being useless, then go stand in the hallway.

you’re always so addicted to your phone - when i’m with you, you actually hardly talk to me, just messaging your gambling buddies (once, it was other women on dating apps).

the entire time i was in boston i couldn’t help but be heartbroken the whole time, reminded of the worst thing you ever did: you confessed to me, after a fight, that you’d planned me a surprise trip to boston the whole time, and how you didn’t have any “side chicks" and i was overreacting for nothing. i said that i’d love to go still - you said okay, but later. you ghosted me for a few days after that and it turns out you had just decided to go to boston on a whim. later, later on, you told me how you took an old friend-with-benefits to this very upscale hotel in boston that you’d meant for me, and how you fucked her in it (a “friend” you had mutually liked for a long time because you actually super get along and she’s “the only” woman who gets your sense of humor, but then she ghosted you once she got engaged, and she came crawling back to you after the relationship didn’t work out...)

whenever i asked you, communicating that i had a feeling that you were no longer interested in something exclusive, you lied about not seeing other women multiple times before you finally confessed to me. i knew something was up when you made weird excuses not to see me, and no longer wanted to have sex. but you had said “of course i wouldn’t sleep with girls behind your back, that would be so messed up...”

you bought lingerie and sex toys for a much yonuger girl you were just using to satisfy your sexual needs. you tried to pass these off as presents to me later on. i knew they were not, because i left them at your house, and after we made up and decided to commit, you returned them saying that they gave you buyer’s remorse.

you tried to pressure me into a threesome (your unfulfilled sex fantasy) with any one of my friends. you decided not to when i looked uncomfortable, hesitant. and of course it was one in which you got two women - not that i’d also be able to have two men.

after we spent a nice afternoon driving around hamden, you said you had such a boner thinking about the hot girl on instagram with amazing tits, HER TITS WERE SO AMAZING and she was totally your type (which i never was).

you totally would have asked the cashier out if i hadn’t been there with you.

but it’s not your fault i’m this insecure...

you claimed you didn’t owe me anything back then because we weren’t “technically dating.” back them,. though, you said “we’re practically dating anyway, i just don’t do labels.” putting me in a position where you could take all you wanted fo me without feeling obliged to reciprocate. you were the one who wanted me to start sleeping over at your place after we became physically intimate... you rushed the situationship so quickly back then, which was unsettling.

weirdly enough you never had any criticisms, ever, zero, of other girls you’d dated in the past, when most men will normally have some sort of complaint about why it didn’t work out. these are women who wounded you deeply by leaving you for another man because you were a serial cheater. yet i’m the one who’s super insecure, immature, and mentally a four year old, and how nobody normal and healthy acts like i do.

you were thinking about reaching out to the past woman after you looked her up and found out she was engaged to the man she left you for - a situationship that ended really badly and was completely over. i really doubt she’d ever want to hear from you again, and out of the blue at that, when she’s celebrating and planning her marriage. i don’t know why you are still thinking about her like this when you supposedly really love me.

you were always on dating apps while at last committed to being my boyfriend. after i confronted you, you said you decided to turn off your tinder profile (note: not delete). soon afterwards you were using hinge right in front of me. and you blamed me for making a big deal out of it and that this is just how you are, you like to look and you didn’t even do anything.

you kept bringing up a fun time you had meeting a teenager at a friend’s party, while you were on vacation in california and had slowly ceased to reach out to me with affection. after we technically broke up, you told me about how you were gonna sneak her into a bar (!??!?!?) and take her shopping for winter clothes (even though this was the summer!??!?!). i told you that you never took me out to a bar. you said “what? you can’t even drink!” you’ve definitely seen me enjoy drinks.

you call me a bitch and motherfucking cunt during our fights, but i call you a piece of shit, so.

you can never supposedly remember certain things that you tell me, i always supposedly remember the weirdest or most insignificant things....

i called you when a social worker called me to say you were admitted to the psychiatric ward. even though you’d texted me earlier that day saying that it wasn’t going to work out, and you no longer wanted to meet my parents (a milestone YOU’D volunteered).

when you found out your mother had cancer i showed up at your house with your favorite drink (poetically, something you’d discovered with that other woman). i drove out to buy your favorite junk food because i knew you hadn’t eaten again. i agreed to watch some movies you’d picked out to cheer yourself up (you spent a good amount of the time raving about how sexy the actresses were, and how incredibly blessed their husbands must be..). i let you borrow my car to see your mum for her first chemo, and for you to get your first driver’s license so you could see her more regularly (!!).

i was the only woman who probably ever tried, really tried, to get you back into school once i could see how broken you felt not being able to face your licensing exams. you hadn’t even touched school in six months, which is the era you fell “head over heels” with another woman whom you wanted to date. (for some reason, early on, i was led to believe i was special for being the one who was meant to be something more than either a hook-up or a friend).

you were so affectionate, gracious about paying for meals, giving me surprise presents when i was new and fresh and you were still trying to win me over. gradually, you stopped cuddling after sex, even though you know i just like to cuddle, and eventually you told me you got bored of sex with me too, naturally.

you were more than happy to book two weeks to see your female friend in california while you were there for a wedding... but it was like pulling teeth to get you to spend an afternoon with me because you were stressed or just didn’t want to.

you started my birthday reminding me how i burnt your oven and made it all disgusting that one time (and i cried feeling guilt and shame, but mostly hurt). i’d booked myself an airbnb honestly anticipating that i’d feel like shit over my birthday weekend. for some reason i felt compelled to invite you, buti did not receive a penny for the gas or for the lodging after you offered to split the cost.

supposedly you didn’t have the time to prepare anything for my birthday, not even a card or a note. but you did have plenty of time to buy yourself so many nice new clothes, and later on for your roommates as well. oh, and the whole time you spent hours a day chatting with your online friends who help you gamble... people who will give you the conversation you need, but with whom you don’t have to face any real social repercussions then the relationships go awry. because they tend to, with you.

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bamby0304 · 6 years

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The Hart II: Highway

Summary: Off on her own, without the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen or Jo, Lizzie tries to get back to what she does best... hunting. But time is running out, Dean’s soul is on the line, and now everyone knows Lizzie is psychic like Sam. Can the brothers and Lizzie work through their problems? Or will they lose everything?

Bamby’s Masterlist The Hart Masterlist The Hart II: Highway Masterlist

Part Three: Surprise

Warnings: Nope...

Bamby

EPOV

Smile on my face, I lifted my hand and knocked on the door in front of me. It had been a few weeks since I'd finished the case with Bobby and the Winchesters. Since then, I'd found some anomalies in a town I'd been driving through. Two fathers and a baby sitter had died in the same week. All of them home accidents.

I'd been planning on just driving through town, but there was something telling me to stay and check the place out. Which is why I was here, at the front of some lady's house, a flyer in hand.

The door opened, revealing a young woman a few years older than me, with dark, thick, long hair and large, gorgeous brown eyes.

"Hi?" She looked at me confused.

"Hi." My smile widened as I lifted the flyer. "I heard you're looking for a sitter?"

"Oh. Yeah. Yes." She nodded, smiling back at me. "I'm Lisa Braeden." She offered me her hand.

"Elizabeth Hart." I reached forward to shake her hand with my own. "But please, call me Lizzie."

DPOV

I walked into the diner where Sam sat at a table, on the phone and his laptop in front of him. As I reached him, he quickly hung up and closed the computer, which I found a little suspicious.

"Hey." He tried to act casual as I sat across from him.

"Who was that?" I nodded to his phone.

"Oh, I was just ordering pizza."

I looked around us. "Dude, you do realise you're in a restaurant?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, oh, yeah. I just felt like pizza, you know?"

"Okay, Weirdy McWeirderson." Placing my newspaper on the table, I opened it up to a possible case. "So, I think I got something."

"Yeah?"

"Cicero, Indiana." I turned the paper to show him. "Falls on his own power saw."

He grabbed the paper and gave it a quick read before turning to me, a little unsure. "And? What, that's it? One power saw?"

"Well, yeah." I shrugged.

"And you think that this is a case?"

"Well, I don't know. Could be."

"I don't know, Dean-"

I cut him off, dropping the act, "All right, there's something better in Cicero than just a case."

He grinned, no doubt knowing where this was going. "And that is?"

"Lisa Braeden," I answered simply, smiling widely at him.

He chuckled, dropping the paper. "Should I even ask?"

"Remember that road trip I took eight years ago? You were in Orlando with dad wrapping up that Banshee thing."

"Yeah, yeah. Five States, five days."

"Well, kind of. I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft."

He scoffed. "So, let me get this straight. You wanna drive all the way to Cicero just to hook up with some random chick?"

"She was a yoga teacher. That was the bendiest weekend of my life. Come on, have a heart, huh? It's my dying wish."

"Yeah, well, how many dying wishes are you gonna get?"

"As many as I can squeeze out," I answered without missing a beat. "Come on. Smile, Sam. God knows I'm gonna be smiling after twenty-four hours with Gumby girl." We both chuckled. "Gumby girl. Does that make me Pokey?"

I'd dropped Sam off at a hotel before coming over to Lisa's. Standing on her front porch, I lifted my hand and knocked on the door. As I waited, I looked over my shoulder at the balloons on the mailbox, wondering what they were doing there.

The door opened. I turned to see Lisa looking as gorgeous as she had all those years ago.

It took her a moment, but when she realised who I was she smiled, her face beaming. "Dean!"

"Lisa. How's it going?"

"Wow." She gave a light laugh. "So how long's it been?"

"Eight, going on nine years now." I nodded, still giving her a charming smile. "Crazy, right?"

"Yeah. So… what are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just... I was just passing through, and I couldn't resist." I shrugged. "I remembered that you love surprises."

"Yeah. Dean Winchester. Wow, just wow." She laughed again. "I'm sorry. You kind of came at a bad time. We're having a party."

That piqued my interest. "Party? Well, I love parties."

A kid's party. A party full of kids. Kids everywhere.

What the hell?

Sure, I liked kids. But this was not what I'd been expecting when I decided to come see Lisa again. I certainly hadn't thought she'd be a mum, but by the looks of things, she wasn't just throwing this party for the neighbourhood.

"So, who's the party for?" I asked as we stepped into the back yard.

"Ben." She smiled. "My son."

"Oh, you have a...?"

"Yep." She gestured over to some people sitting at a table. "That's him."

I looked over to see a kid with short, dark hair in jeans, a black shirt and a jacket grinning as he unwrapped a present which turned out to be a CD.

"Yes! ACDC rules!" He turned to the woman next to him. "You're so awesome!"

Looking to the woman, I tensed. Liz?

She smiled down at the kid, ruffling his hair. "Happy birthday, kid."

Watching the scene in front of me, I decided to ignore Liz for the moment as I turned to the kid again. There was something about him, something familiar...

"How old-"

"Eight," Lisa cut me off to answer my unfinished question. "Could you excuse me a minute?" Without waiting for an answer, she was off.

I kept watching the kid, wondering. It had been just over eight years since I'd seen Lisa. This kid was eight. He dressed like me, looked like me, had the same taste in music as me… could he be? Was he my son? Did I have a son I didn't know about?

As I pondered the thought, Liz looked up, her eyes meeting mine. As much as I couldn't stop wondering about the kid, I also couldn't stop looking at her.

She wore her usual red leather jacket, but instead of jeans, a tank top and boots, she wore a grey dress the fell just above the knees and clung to her, and brown sandals, with her hair falling down her back. She looked relaxed, and casual, and as good as she always did.

Yeah, sleeping with Lisa is clearly not gonna happen.

EPOV

I walked over to the table where Lisa and I had set up the food for the party. I'd noticed Dean the moment he'd walked out of the house with Lisa, but waited until she went back into the house and he moved to the food, before I went over to talk to him.

Dean was looking down at the cake on the table, grinning at the little cars on the frosting road.

"I made it," I told him as I stopped on the other side of the table.

He looked up, surprised that I was talking to him and that I'd made the cake. "You made this?"

"Yeah." I shrugged, grabbing the knife to cut a slice. Putting it on a plate, I handed it over. "It's chocolate. Can't have a kid's birthday party without some chocolate."

Slowly, he began to relax, returning my smile with one of his own. "So, you like kids and can bake? Always something knew to learn."

"I'm a never-ending list of surprises." I grinned.

Things still weren't good between us. I knew he didn't know why I was so upset, and I'd rather it stayed that way. But just because things were a little rough right now, didn't mean I hated him. He was my friend. I loved him and Sam like family. So being able to act friendly with him right now, to act normal, it was nice.

Movement over his shoulder caught my attention. I looked over, seeing two mum's whispering to each other as they glanced over at Dean every now and then.

"You've got some fans, I see." Speaking to Dean, I gestured to the women.

Looking over his shoulder, he found them smiling at him. "Hi." He gave them a charming grin.

"Hi." The dark haired one looked like she could barely breath.

While the red head looked like she wanted to eat Dean alive. "Hello."

Chuckling, I shook my head and walked around the table to stand next to Dean. "You wanna meet the birthday boy?"

"Uh… yeah, sure." He nodded, tearing his eyes from the mums as he followed me over to the Moon bounce.

Ben was leaning against the fence, watching the kids, waiting. He was a cool kid. We'd gotten along in an instant. He was funny, smart, and cool. So cool. Coolest kid I knew. I mean, what eight-year-old is obsessed with my Chevy Camaro, loves classic rock, dresses like he's some kind of badass and is totally chill with everything? He was the best.

DPOV

"Hey, bud." Liz smiled at him, offering the plate of cake she'd gotten for him. "Got you an extra big piece. Don't tell your mum." She winked.

Bed grinned up at her. "Thanks Liz."

I looked from the kid to Liz. Only I called her that. I'd never heard anyone else call her that...

Ben glanced up at me. "Who's the guy?" he asked her.

"Ben, this is Dean. Dean, this is Ben."

"He your boyfriend?" The kid actually had the nerve to stand up straighter and size me up.

Liz laughed. "No. Just a friend."

"Cool." Ben shrugged, a little more relaxed now that I wasn't a threat, apparently. The kid had a crush. But who could blame him? "What's up?" he asked me.

I shrugged back. "What's up with you?"

"Lizzie?" someone called from inside the house.

"Oh, uh, I gotta go." Liz smiled down at Ben. "Keep an eye on Dean for me, okay? He tends to get himself in trouble," she told him. Turning, she grinned at me before walking off.

Both Ben and I watched her walk away, our eyes following her until she disappeared. Once she was gone, without even realising it, we both took a piece of our slices of cake and ate it.

"So, it's your birthday," I noted, trying to start a conversation.

"Guilty."

"It's a cool party."

"Dude, it's so freaking sweet. And this Moon bounce? It's epic." The way he spoke, he was so excited but so cool about it as well.

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome," I agreed.

"You know who else thinks they're awesome? Chicks." He punched my arm. "It's like hot-chick city out there." Putting his plate down on the table next to him, he then hurried off to the Moon bounce. "Look out, ladies, here comes trouble."

I stood there for a moment, doing the maths and how much the kid was like me...

Spinning around, I bumped into a trash can as I hurried for the house, needing to find Lisa to get some answers.

Walking into the house, I found Lisa watching one of the mum's leading her daughter out of the house. I could tell, just by looking at the scene, that things were tense and something was clearly wrong. But it was none of my business, so I wasn't going to push for answers, just as long as Lisa was okay.

"Hey." I walked over to lean on the kitchen bench by Lisa. "So, I met Ben. Cool kid."

"Yeah." She nodded, but here attention was still on the other mother.

"You know, I couldn't help but notice that he's turning eight," I hinted. But when she just looked confused, I went on. "You and me. You know..."

She laughed, moving to check the oven. "You're not trying to ask me if he's yours?"

Seeing her reaction, I quickly tried to reassure her. "No, no, of course not." But I knew that not knowing would kill me, so I had to ask, "He's not, is he?"

Slamming the oven closed, she turned to me. "What? No." By the look on her face, I wasn't sure if that was the truth or if she was keeping the truth from me.

But I knew better than to push, so I simply nodded. "Right." Changing the subject, I gestured to where the mum and daughter form before had left. "Something wrong with your friend?"

"She's been through a lot. Her ex just died in this horrible accident."

Pushing off the bench, I wondered if this accident was the same one that Sam and I were meant to be looking into. "Didn't I read about that? The power saw?"

"Yep." She nodded, voice soft, clearly upset. "I guess there's been a lot of bad luck in the neighbourhood lately."

This caught my attention. "What kind of bad luck?"

SPOV

I sat at a diner, on my own, researching, again. I was in my own little world until someone came to stand by my table. Looking up, I found it was the woman who'd saved me the other week.

She sat on the chair across from me, smiling. "Hello, Sam."

"You've been following me since Lincoln," I noted, tensing up, getting ready for anything. I didn't know or trust this girl, despite the fact she'd saved my life.

She closed my laptop. "Not much gets by you, huh?" Reaching over, she grabbed one of my fries and took a bite out of it. "Mm," she groaned in pleasure. "These are amazing. It's like deep-fried crack. Try some."

Ignoring the fry talk, I looked around to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward and speaking in a low voice. "That knife you had, you can kill demons with that thing?"

"Sure comes in handy when I have to swoop in and save the damsel in distress." She grabbed the small plate the coffee mug had sat on, then grabbed the ketchup.

"Where'd you get it?"

"Skymail," she answered, squeezing a ridiculous amount of sauce onto the plate.

"Why are you following me?"

She smiled, finally giving me an answer I could believe and work with. "I'm interested in you."

"Why?"

"Because you're tall." Dunking the fry in the sauce, she then took another bite and continued to answer my question, "I love a tall man. And then there's the whole antichrist thing."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, generation of psychic kids. Yellow-Eyed Demon rounds you up, Celebrity Deathmatch ensues, and you're the sole survivor."

"Elizabeth survived as well," I countered. "She's still alive, and can actually use her powers. I can't. Besides, how do you know about all that?"

"I'm a good hunter." She shrugged, grabbing another fry. "And I'm not here for Elizabeth. Yellow Eyes had big plans for you."

"Had being the key word."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah." She nodded. "That's right. Ding-dong, the Demon's dead. Good job with that. But it doesn't change the fact that you're special. In that Anthony-Michael-Hell ESP-vision kind of way."

"Nope. None of that stuffs happening anymore. Not since Yellow Eyes died." It was the truth.

Actually, I thought that would be the case for Lizzie too, but when I saw her use her abilities the other week, I'd wondered if it was because of Meg's blood. She was the only one of our kind to have a recent dosage…

"I'm thinking you're still a pretty big deal." The woman shrugged. "I mean, after all that business with you mum."

Anyone saying anything about my family got my attention and made me put up my defences. But to hear this strange woman speak as if she knew some kind of secret, that had me on edge.

"What about my mum?"

"You know, what happened to her friends." She noticed when I tensed my jaw, having no idea what she was talking about but also getting pissed that she knew something I didn't. "You don't know. You've got a little bit of catching up to do, my friend." Reaching over, she grabbed my hand and pen before she began to write on my palm. "So why don't you look into your mum's pals, and then give me a call and we'll talk again." She finished writing and stood up, smiling at me.

I looked down at my palm, reading the phone number she'd written down.

"And by the way, you do know there's a job in this town, right?" she told me before turning around and leaving.

Just as she left my phone began to ring.

"Hello?" I answered it.

"Dude." It was Dean. "There is a job here."

I looked over to the door where the woman had left, wondering how she would have known that and why should told me instead of doing it herself. "Really?"

"Yeah. You know that one freak accident we read in the paper? Turns out there's four more that never even made the paper. All in this Morning Hill gated community. People falling off ladders, drowning in Jacuzzis all over the neighbourhood."

"That is weird."

"Yeah, something's up. Something these nice big gates can't protect them from. Oh, and guess who's already working the job?"

EPOV

I sat outside in the backyard of one of Lisa's friend's house. She'd lost her husband recently. He'd fallen off a ladder in their back yard while changing one of the outdoor light bulbs. Being the babysitter for one of the friendlier mums meant getting people to trust and talk to me was pretty easy.

Karen- the mum- walked out of the house, having just answered the front door. The person who'd been out the front was right behind her. The person being Sam, dressed in a suit, undercover.

"Once again, I'm very sorry to disturb you. We just wanna expedite that life-insurance policy," he told Karen.

"Of course." She nodded as she turned to me. "Uh, Lizzie, you don't mind do, you? I'll just be a moment."

Offering a kind smile, I shook my head. "It's fine."

Sam looked over to me for a moment, an understanding passing between the two of us. He knew I was on the job just like him. He also knew that I would know more than he did. I could tell, he wanted to work together, just like the good ol' days. Chances were, I'd go with it too. I'd always had a hard time saying no to Sam.

Karen- oblivious to the silent message sent between Sam and I- showed him to the ladder where he husband had fallen. "This is where he fell."

"I see." Sam moved closer to the ladder. "Now, how exactly did he...?"

"He was just inside, changing a light bulb. Must've lost his balance."

"Were you here when this happened?" Sam asked.

"No, I was out," she answered. "The only one here was our daughter, Dakota."

I watched Sam as he did a scan of what he could see of the house. His eyes landed on the same thing I'd noticed the moment I arrived. Some kind of red mark was under one of the windows. It appeared to be blood, but we couldn't be sure.

Standing in that window now was Dakota. She watched Sam and I with a look in her eyes as if she wanted nothing more than for us to go, and she was willing to do whatever it took. It honestly scared the crap out of me.

"Okay, well, I think that's all I need." Turning back to Karen, Sam got back to business. "I'll get out of your way now."

She nodded. "Thank you." Turning around, she went to walk off when Sam noticed something on the back of her neck.

I'd seen it as well, when I first got here. It was some kind of bite, but all so a bruise like something had sucked on the skin. I had no idea what it was, but it was a clue.

Sam looked to me again, yet another silent message being passed between us.

Understanding, I got to my feet and smiled at Karen. "Look, I should probably head off, too. Maybe we can catch up later?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, of course." She rested a hand on my arm. "Thanks for coming by to check on us, Lizzie. You're too sweet."

"Please, anything for a friend of Lisa's." I then gestured to Sam. "I'll show him out. You go make sure Dakota's okay."

"That'll be great, thanks." She gave me a small smile as she then walked off.

Sam and I headed for the front door to leave. We didn't say a word until we were on the front porch, heading to my car.

"You get a taxi here?"

"Dean had the car," he answered.

"You staying at Cicero Pines Motel?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Yep." I pulled my keys out. "Got nothing better to do, so why don't I drop you off? Then I'll get back to work."

He laughed lightly then. "Dean told me you're a babysitter. Also told me the kid has a crush on you. And that he thinks the kid might be his."

"Wait..." I came to a stop. "What?"

"Yeah." Sam stopped as well, going on, clearly not seeing my confused face. "He hooked up with Lisa eight or so years back. They spent an entire weekend together. That's why we're here. Because, you know, the deal."

I just rolled my eyes. "Right. The deal." Sighing, I continued for the car.

If I was being completely honest, now that I thought about it, Ben could be Dean's. There were so many similarities between the two of them. I'd even say Ben was practically a mini Dean. The way he dressed, spoke, even ate. All his likes and dislikes...

Oh my God...

DPOV

I was heading for my car when I noticed Ben sitting on a bench in the park alone. I thought about leaving, but when I saw how upset he looked, I found myself walking over to him.

"Hey, Ben."

He looked up at me. "Hey. Dean, right?"

"Yeah." I nodded, moving to sit next to him. "So, where's your mum? Or Liz?"

"Mum's busy cleaning up the house. Liz is getting ice-cream," he answered, looking down at a leather pouch he held in his hands that sat on his lap.

"Everything okay? Something wrong?" I asked, but he simply shrugged. I looked to the pouch and then around the park, seeing a group of four kids crowded together as one played on some kind of game. "That your game they're playing with?"

Ben answered, but didn't look up as he spoke. "Ryan Humphrey borrowed it. And now he won't give it back."

I shifted to get up. "You want me to go-"

Before I could finish my sentence, he grabbed my arm to stop me from going. "No. Don't go over there. Only bitches send a grownup."

I was surprised, amused and impressed by the kid. "You're not wrong."

"And I'm not a bitch," he assured me, letting go of my arm.

I laughed. "Is that Humphrey? The one who needs to lay off the burgers?" Ben grinned and nodded at my question. "Hmm... well, here's what you gotta do."

Bamby

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realityisnoplacetolive · 7 years

Text

Lost In Translation | Phandom Big Bang

Author: realityisnoplacetolive

Artist: @themessafterthemarty (the art is awesome omg)

Beta: @always-okay-katie (thank you so much for all your help!!)

Word count: 11k

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Summary: In a world in which everyone is born with their soulmate’s first words to them tattooed somewhere on their body, it would seem that loneliness is finally cured. But Phil Lester has a problem. His tattoo is in a language he can’t speak.

A/N: Additional thanks to @awesomesockes, for being Danish and therefore occasionally helpful in the endeavor :p And to Gina, for giving me really awesome advice about pacing, which i was too stubborn to actually implement, but I appreciated nonetheless <3 (you tried)

His situation wasn’t exactly common, but it wasn’t unheard of either. Phil’s mum often tried to assure him of this - he wasn’t the first person on Earth to have a language barrier between him and his soulmate. But that was easy for her to say, when she was born with the words ‘Have you got a partner for the assignment yet?’ tattooed in neat script across her collarbone. Phil’s father had asked her this question at the start of year five, and despite the response she’d given him of ‘Sorry, Charlie’s just asked me’, the two had been fast friends ever since. Those five words covered his dad’s left calf, and he often teased his wife about how her first words to him were rejection.

But Phil Lester would’ve given anything for something as simple and direct as that. The twenty-two year old sighed at the foreign phrase printed across his right forearm for what felt like the millionth time.

“Yeah, well, beats mine anyway,” his older brother had assured him. Phil had to giggle, remembering the ‘Would you like to order drinks?’ tattoo on Martyn’s bicep.

As teens, a group of his brothers’ friends had started a sort of competition for who could find their soulmate fastest. Of course, it didn’t really work that way. The first meeting was something predetermined before birth; trying to rush fate was pointless. And while they believed that on some level, impatient young people were notorious for trying to manipulate their situations to make it happen a bit sooner.

Martyn’s friend, Jack, for example, had been born with the tattoo ‘Try not to move - it might be broken’. He’d taken it as an open invitation to try all kinds of extreme sports, from BMX biking to water skiing. By the age of seventeen, Jack had already broken eleven bones with no luck on the soulmate front. In the end, he’d had to trip over a rolled up floor mat and sprain his knee while walking into Asda before finally meeting Emma.

Not one to be outdone, poor Martyn had taken nearly every penny he’d earned from his summer job at a bowling alley and spent it trying out various restaurants and sneaking into bars. He’d get his hopes up with each new server, only to have them dashed again every time the waitress remained unphased by his drink order. Eventually, he’d made peace with it. He’d meet her when he’d meet her, and that was that.

But with a line like ‘Er det dine briller?’ inked into his skin, it seemed foolish for Phil not to prepare a little.

The phrase was in Danish: are these your glasses? Translating it had been the easy part - his parents had done that for him with the help of a Danish-English dictionary they’d purchased about a week after he was born (after first spending a few afternoons in the library determining the tattoo wasn’t German or Dutch or Swedish). What to do with that information next, however, was a little less obvious.

When Phil was little, having such a mark was almost a relief. Much like a child taking their first steps or graduating school, meeting one’s soulmate for the first time was considered such an important milestone in someone’s life that it wasn’t uncommon for parents to hover over their children’s first interactions with strangers, hoping to hear those magic words. But with Phil’s odds of simply bumping into his soulmate on the playground at next to nil, much of the pressure involved in making new friends was off. In a way, it was nice.

For his thirteenth birthday, Phil’s parents had bought him a ‘Teach Yourself Danish’ book series, complete with audio tapes to practice with. But after a few weeks of struggling to wrap his mouth around the foreign words, Phil’s enthusiasm dwindled and the series took up residence in the corner of his book shelf where it collected dust for years to come.

Phil was nineteen before things changed. He and one of his best friends, Amber, were spending the day at a funfair. She was eating candyfloss off a stick, while he was a very pale shade of green and trying his best to keep his lunch down after the Tilt-A-Whirl.

“Want a bite?” Amber said, offering the sugary pink substance to him. He grimaced and looked away. “Might help.”

“Doubt it.” He moved toward an empty bench a few feet away and sat down with a little groan, closing his eyes. Amber plopped down next to him, and they rested for a few minutes.

Phil had met Amber on the first day of sixth form. She was one of the very few girls Phil knew who didn’t place much stock in the soulmate system. Amber had a bit of a rebellious streak, and never shut up about how dumb she considered it that some unknown force in the universe was supposed to decide who she should spend her life with.

“When I do meet him, I bet I won’t even like him,” she often complained. “I feel sorry for the bloke, honestly.”

She’d gone out with several different guys throughout their school career, which had earned her a certain reputation with many of the other students in their year. She rarely ever did anything with these boys, she’d confided in Phil once, but she found everyone else’s assumptions about her fascinating. Plus, there was something so liberating about spending the evening sitting on the sofa, “wasting her time” - as her grandmother often chided - by getting to know someone who’d only leave her in the end.

“But that’s exactly the point,” Amber would argue back. “There’s no pressure this way - no promise of a future. Just right now.”

Honestly, Phil wished he could have such a flippant attitude about the whole matter. Amber was on a whole new level.

“You’re not gonna eat that?” a male voice interrupted Phil’s thoughts.

Phil’s eyes snapped open again, and he noticed a young man approaching them. Amber sat frozen with one arm reached out, just getting ready to drop the last bit of her candyfloss into the bin next to the bench. Phil’s heart leapt and he shot his friend a look of amazement.

“Why?” Amber replied to the stranger, a mixture of nervousness and excitement in her voice. “You starting a half-eaten candyfloss collection?”

“Holy fucking shit on a stick!” the stranger exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with the same excitement. “That’s my tattoo!”

Grinning, Amber lifted the leg of her jeans just enough to show the ‘You’re not gonna eat that?’ tattooed on her ankle. “And you?”

The stranger, with an even bigger smile, held out his forearm. “Half-eaten candyfloss collection! Who even says that?” He laughed. “I was worried I’d never find you! My name’s Matt by the way.”

As Phil walked along the rest of the day, listening to Amber and Matt chat excitedly several paces ahead, he began to understand the meaning of the term “third wheel”. He also resolved to sign up for Danish lessons as soon as he got home.

It was another three years before Phil finally got his chance to visit Denmark. Amber and Matt - now recently engaged and sharing a flat - had booked him tickets to Copenhagen as a part belated birthday, part ‘sorry that we found true love and ran off together while you’re over there all alone’ present. But he wasn’t about to be one to turn down a free trip, even one born out of pity.

Phil greatly increased his language studies in preparation. He’d found an internet proxy that allowed him to stream the Danish national television channels, and was thoroughly enjoying Danish X Factor. It turned out horrible talent show auditions were universal.

“So are you like, fluent now?” Martyn asked him that evening when he came to visit, the night before Phil set off. He stood in the doorway to Phil’s room with his arms crossed, leaning against the frame, as he observed his younger brother. Phil was sprawled out in his bed with his laptop, watching Huset på Christianshavn - a sitcom from the late 70s featuring an odd bunch of Danes living in an apartment complex who did an appalling amount of drinking and not much else.

“Uh, no. Not quite there yet,” Phil answered without looking up. That was an understatement - his eyes were currently glued to the rapidly moving subtitles, which gave him his only hope of comprehension.

“Ah, well, I’m sure you’ll do fine,” his brother said. He moved from the doorway and sat down on Phil’s desk chair. “Cornelia says hi by the way - she wanted to come along and send you off properly, but she’s got some huge chemistry exam tomorrow morning. Says her professor is a nightmare.”

Even just mentioning Cornelia’s name, Martyn’s face seemed to light up. Phil had noticed this with most of his friends who’d found their soulmates and a familiar pang of bitterness hit him. He swallowed it down before he spoke.

“It’s alright,” Phil said dismissively. “It’s not like I’m gone a year. Just six days.”

“Who knows,” Martyn grinned, “you might just be so smitten after you meet them that you decide to stay.”

The words struck a nerve. “You know, I wish everyone would stop putting all this pressure on me,” Phil snapped. “There’s no guarantee that I’m meeting anyone on this trip - there never is.”

“Hey man, it was just a joke…” Martyn tried.

“No, it’s not! It’s the one person that the universe has decided is compatible with my soul and I have to fly to bloody Denmark to even have a shot at meeting them!”

“That’s not true, you-”

But Phil cut him off. “All my friends are getting engaged or moving in together or just out having their own adventures because at least they know they have an equal chance of meeting their soulmate wherever they might end up, but here I am, preparing myself for my one chance to meet someone I won’t even be able to communicate with!”

He paused for a breath. It was as if a dam had been opened - now that all his worries were flooding out, he felt powerless to stop them. He went on, “And if this fails, then what? Wait to save up enough and try again? Move there? What if I don’t even like this stupid country?”

“They all speak English there,” his brother reminded. “They learn it from like, year one. They’ll probably be better than you.”

“But will they think English?” Phil asked, something akin to desperation in his voice. “Will they feel English? When we lay in bed and tell each other our deepest secrets, will their words come out effortlessly in English, or will it constantly be work for them to translate their every thought to a language not their own because I’m a piece of shit who was literally born with an assignment printed on his arm but put off studying for twenty-two years?!”

Hot tears were sliding down Phil’s face now. He slammed the laptop closed and pushed it aside before sitting up on the bed and pulling his knees up to his chest.

Martyn rose from the desk and moved over to sit next to Phil on the edge of the bed. He offered his shoulder, and his brother, grateful for the comfort, lay his head against it. “You are way overthinking this, mate,” Martyn said softly.

“I know…” Phil breathed back. And deep down, he did know. “It’s just…” He cut himself off with a sigh.

“Just what?” his brother prompted.

“Just… what if it all goes horribly wrong? You know, like Great Uncle Ronnie….”

Martyn rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Phil, your soulmate speaks Danish and you don’t. That man was born with the tattoo ‘Time of death: 7:46’ on his chest. Your situation is not even close to that level of depressing.”

“But what about-” Phil began.

“Enough,” Martyn cut in. “You have six days of free travel in a beautiful foreign country. For once in your life, let’s just forget about this whole soulmate business and focus on that. Can you manage that?”

Slowly, Phil nodded his head.

“Good.” Martyn ruffled his brother’s hair with his hand before turning to the empty suitcase lying on the floor. “Now let’s get you packed. And bring an umbrella - I just checked the weather and it looks like six solid days of rain.”

Phil let out a sigh. “Fantastic.”

Keeping his word to Martyn ended up not being nearly as difficult as Phil had imagined. There was plenty to do and see in Copenhagen besides soulmate searching. In four days’ time, Phil had already seen The Little Mermaid statue (which was significantly smaller than he’d imagined), visited two castles, explored Tivoli Gardens, gone for a canal tour, a bus tour, and a bike tour, and posed for his mandatory selfie in front of the capital guards.

But even with all the activities to occupy his time, he’d be lying if he said choosing to wear his glasses rather than contact lenses that week was just a coincidence, or that the few instances where he’d left those glasses sitting on restaurant tables or park benches had been complete accidents.

It turned out, most Danes kept to themselves. He was rarely spoken to by anyone, though one man did give a small cough and incline his head in the glasses’ direction. Phil had acknowledged him with a nod and gave a slight smile before retrieving them. Non-verbal interactions seemed to be Denmark’s speciality.

But finally, after several of these such attempts, a stranger fell for his bait. Phil had taken off his glasses and set them on the cafe table where he’d been sipping a latte. He’d walked halfway to the door, and was just about to complete his routine of acting as though he’d suddenly realized they were missing and backtracking to the table, when he heard a phrase that sent a chill down his spine.

“Excuse me, are those your glasses?”

Phil spun around excitedly at the words, but his eyes met those of a woman in her mid-fifties. She wasn’t exactly his type, but then again, platonic soulmates, though rare, were still a possibility…

“Mine b-briller?” he stuttered back, the words sounding all thick and wrong in his hopeless accent.

The woman looked puzzled. “Nå! Er du dansker?” she asked.

“…What?” Phil replied.

“I guess not.” The corners of her mouth turned up a bit into a smile. “I asked if you were Danish,” she explained, a slight accent to her voice. “I think you left your glasses on the table.”

“Oh, right, thanks,” he mumbled. Phil picked them up and stuffed them into his bag. He didn’t even need them at the moment - he was wearing his contacts anyway.

The woman was already moving to join the queue at the counter, and Phil considered just letting it go. But no, he’d come all this way; he had to be sure.

He hurried back over to her. “Sorry, excuse me?” he said quickly. She turned to look at him. “I’m sorry, I just have to ask something. When you asked me about the glasses the first time, were you speaking Danish or English?” He’d been so startled by her question before that he hadn’t even noticed.

She frowned. “English, wasn’t it? I saw the book you were holding, so I just assumed. Something wrong?”

Phil could’ve kicked himself. Of course. When carrying a book titled “Tourist in Copenhagen”, he wouldn’t look exceptionally Danish.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I guess I just got my hopes up for a second.” Feeling he owed her an explanation, Phil gave a small sigh and pushed his right jacket sleeve up to reveal his tattoo.

The woman squinted to make out the words, and then her expression instantly changed to one of understanding. “Nåh. I’m afraid I’m taken.” With a kind smile that crinkled up the corners of her eyes, she tugged down the top hem of her shirt just enough to expose the writing on her collarbone: Mine underbukser har fået hjemve. Then she held up her left hand and wiggled the fingers. The sunlight glinted off her wedding ring.

If she hadn’t been so sweet, Phil thought he might have died of embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, really. I’ll go now.” He spun around quickly toward the door.

“It’s alright!” she laughed after him. “And count your blessings - at least your tattoo doesn’t declare to all the world that your soulmate’s first words to you were that he had a wedgie.”

Even with his cheeks burning as they were, Phil had to giggle as he ducked out of the cafe and back to the walking street.

Despite his horrible luck on the soulmate front, Phil had managed to enjoy his time in Denmark for the most part.

Martyn had been wrong about the weather after all. Or, mostly right - it had been storming all morning, but the clouds above had parted in the last twenty minutes and the sun was shining brightly enough now that Phil stopped walking to shrug off his jacket and locate his sunglasses.

He’d just managed to free them from his bag when he felt some kind of strap hit the back of his knees, tripping him up. Three large, eager dogs had suddenly appeared on his right, accompanied by a woman on his left who was simultaneously riding a bike and struggling with one arm to hold on to three leather leashes, which were wrapping around the back of Phil’s legs. Two of the dogs crossed in front of Phil, twisting the leashes even further around his ankles and pulling both himself and the cyclist off balance. The bike toppled over, while Phil fell backwards, smacking the back of his head on the landing. Suddenly all five of them were lying on the pavement in a pile of tangled limbs and barking animals.

“Undskyld! Undskyld!” the woman apologized profusely, then proceeded to babble on. Context, plus the limited Danish he could comprehend, told him she was explaining something about how her dogs had gotten away from her, how she was terribly sorry about that, and then asking whether or not he was alright. Not wanting to cause a fuss, Phil simply nodded as they disentangled.

A headache was already building from the jolt. He slowly made his way up to standing and started brushing off his pant legs, which now had damp spots on the back where they’d touched the ground. His possessions were scattered over the street, and the woman, still rambling on in Danish, was hurriedly trying to help him gather everything again.

“Er det dine briller?”

But it hadn’t been the woman asking the question. A new voice had joined the mix. The words startled Phil and his heart leapt in his chest. He spun around to see another guy, late teens or early twenties, stooping down and holding out Phil’s sunglasses.

Are these your glasses? The words seemed to be sung in angel chorus. This was his moment. Phil Lester had had twenty-two years to come up with an answer to that question. He’d rehearsed in front of the mirror, night after night, what fluent Danish response he might say back. He had taught himself affirmative replies, negative replies, replies that were somewhere in the middle - hell, he’d even learned a pick up line or two.

Yet despite all that, when presented with the question that had been inked into his skin since the day he was born, Phil became a blubbering mess. “Ja!” he pointed to the glasses excitedly and then to himself. “Du er min!”

The stranger raised one eyebrow and cocked his head to the side curiously. “Snakker du til brillerne? Eller til mig?”

“…What?” Phil questioned. The stranger deposited the glasses into Phil’s open hand, looking amused. “Jeg snakker kun lidt dansk,” Phil admitted, using one of the first phrases he’d ever learned of this language: I don’t speak much Danish.

“Clearly,” the man snorted under his breath.

“Oh! Engelsk?” Phil squeaked hopefully. “You speak English?”

The man was grinning now. “I should hope so,” he replied. “Twelve years in the English public school system should have taught me that much.”

Phil’s world was spinning now. He brought a hand up to his head, which was throbbing. “Wait, does that mean… you’re not Danish?”

“God no,” the man snorted out a laugh. “I’m from Wokingham.”

“But you spoke…?” Phil trailed off, looking confused.

The stranger nodded, having grasped Phil’s not quite finished question. “My dad lives here, so I’ve been picking up the language. Plus there’s some online Danish program I do when I can be arsed to remember it.”

“Oh, me too I guess…” Phil mumbled. “Er, not the dad part. Just I’ve been trying to learn, I mean.” The cyclist had managed to gather the dogs and bike together again and was starting to limp away. He’d offer to help her, if he wasn’t also slowly dying himself.

“Cool,” the stranger remarked. His look changed to one of concern, as Phil had gone quite pale. “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, just… my head…” Phil slurred, bringing his hand up to prod at the rapidly swelling lump. “I-I should sit down.” He glanced around desperately for a chair.

“Oh. Um…” After a second of hesitation, the man took Phil’s arm and guided him back into the cafe, and then into a booth. He disappeared and then reappeared a minute later with a bottle of water, which he offered awkwardly.

Phil gave him a small smile of gratitude and took the bottle before letting out a tiny groan. “This wasn’t how I planned this day to go.”

The man smiled kindly at him. “That’s life, isn’t it?” He extended his right hand. “I’m Dan, by the way. Dan Howell.”

“Phil,” Phil replied, shaking it. Clumsily, he reached into his pocket, mumbling, “I can pay you back for the water…”

“Oh, no.” Dan waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not everyday something like… this happens.” The words seemed to trip him up at the end.

Phil changed the subject. “You said your dad lives in Denmark?”

“Yeah, he works for an international shipping company,” Dan explained, perking right up. “I live with my mum though, back in England. But I usually come visit a few weeks every summer and every other Christmas.”

“I see…” Phil nodded, then regretted that as the throbbing in his head increased. “But you’re fluent in Danish?”

“Oh no, not even close,” Dan snorted. “I don’t even think most Danes are fluent. Have you heard this language? You might as well just cram a large vegetable down your epiglottis - that seems to be what it would take to choke out half their vowel sounds.”

Phil was starting to feel a little foolish now. He brought the water to his lips, but pulled it away again before taking a sip. “I… I’m sorry. I’m just having a little trouble taking all of this in. I think I hit my head when I fell. But you’re saying you’re not Danish? Not at all? Not even like, half?”

“I mean, if you go back a few generations on my dad’s side, there was a bit of scandal that may or may not have involved the Crown Prince, but nothing was ever confirmed….”

Phil nodded, slower this time. Again, he tried to take a drink of water, but the questions were bursting inside of him to get out. He set the still full bottle back down on the table. “Right, sorry, still trying to get this straight. You’re telling me that the last twenty-two years of my life have been a lie? That all along you were just some English bloke I could have met at home?”

Dan seemed to take offense at this. “Hey, I’m not just some Engli-”

Phil cut him off. “I-I planned my life around this! I picked a course at uni that I could transfer internationally! I learned Denmark’s history! I studied this bloody language - do you know how hard is it to find Danish courses in England?!”

“Actually, I do,” Dan replied stiffly, “but what has any of that got to do with-”

But Phil pressed on. “All the nights I spent lying awake, worried I wouldn’t be able to communicate with my… my soulmate -” He spat out the last word in disgust, “And… And now…”

At the mention of that word, Dan’s gaze shifted away; suddenly he appeared very interested in the salt and pepper shakers.

Phil stopped abruptly, feeling ashamed. He could understand Dan’s response. Personally, Phil had known he was bisexual since he was fifteen, so the fact that the universe had paired him with another male didn’t come as a complete shock to him. But he had no way of knowing yet where Dan stood on the matter. Regardless, he definitely wasn’t making the best first impression.

“I’m sorry. I’m not normally like this.” Phil gestured an open hand vaguely around his head. “I - I hit my head,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah, you mentioned. Like three times now.” Most of the stiffness had gone from Dan’s tone. He watched as Phil rested his elbows on the table and brought his hands up to cover his face. This seemed to soften him even further. “Uh, how bad is it? Do you need to call someone?”

“No, no… It’s fine,” Phil muttered into his hands. “Just hurts.” He lowered his hands again and looked back up. “But… you did ask it, right? I mean…” For the second time that day, Phil held out his bare forearm to a stranger, revealing those four troublesome words: Er det dine briller. “These were your first words to me?”

Dan shifted in his seat. “Er… Well, yeah, but…”

Phil felt himself deflate at the response. “But you have a different tattoo,” he finished. Of course he did - how could Phil have been so stupid? “I’m so sorry, I should have known better. God, this day has been awful. I’m so sor-”

“Ja, du er min,” Dan whispered.

“Sorry?”

A little more confidently now, Dan spoke again, “Ja, du er min. That’s what you said back.”

“Wait.” Phil frowned, recalling the incident. “Didn’t I say det er min? As in, they - the sunglasses - are mine?”

“Nope.” Dan grinned and shook his head. “You definitely said du er min. As in, you are mine.”

“Aw damn it,” Phil muttered, “I’m always messing up the pronouns in this language.”

Dan snorted in amusement.

“Can… Can I see your tattoo then?” Phil asked tentatively.

Dan’s eyes darted down to his own lap. “Oh. Uh… Maybe another time.”

Phil looked hurt. “If this is because of what I said before, I really am sorry. I never should have implied you weren’t who I thought you’d be. I was just so shocked and-”

“No, it’s not that,” Dan said quickly. “I just… don’t really feel comfortable showing you right now.”

Phil drew in a long, deep breath before biting his lower lip. This didn’t make any sense - nothing about this meeting had gone even remotely like he had pictured. His throat was tightening and he had to blink a few times to keep his tears in check. Crying in front of the man would really put the icing on the cake, wouldn’t it?

“You… You don’t want to show me your mark?” Phil questioned. He was fighting to keep the pleading tone out of his voice, but it slipped through anyway.

“Er, not right now, no,” Dan confirmed. Though he looked apologetic.

“But you’re sure we’re soulmates?” Phil pressed on. “Like, sure sure?”

“Du er min,” Dan said with a nod.

“Then, I just don’t understand.” He was thoroughly exasperated now. “Why can’t I see it? I mean, it’s not that I don’t trust you, but we just met, so-”

“Exactly! We just met. Which is why I’m not particularly comfortable showing you such a private thing.”

“But then how will I-”

“It’s on my bum, alright?!” Dan exclaimed in frustration.

Phil blinked at him. “Sorry, what?”

“On my arse, in huge fucking block letters, I have a tattoo that says ‘Ja du er min’,” Dan clarified. “I can assure you, you are the first person to ever greet me with those exact words.”

At that point, Phil realized his mouth had been hanging open and quickly shut it. Virtually all soulmate tattoos were on perfectly innocuous parts of the body: arms, wrists, ankles, collarbones, feet. He’d heard once of a German teenager who’d come out claiming his mark was on his penis and that was why he’d been harassing half the girls at his school with dick pics. The story had been on the news and everything. But the mark had turned out to be fake - his real soulmate tattoo was at the base of his neck, covered by his long hair, and simply said ‘Nein’.

With wide eyes, Phil leaned in closer and whispered “…For real?”

His soulmate nodded miserably. He seemed thoroughly embarrassed.

“But… But that’s so cool!” Phil grinned.

Now it was Dan’s turn to blink back. “How is being tramp-stamped from birth in any way cool? Do you know what they call tattoos like that in Denmark?” he demanded.

Phil shook his head.

“Røvgevir. Ass antlers.”

But as Phil dissolved into giggles, Dan gave up trying to act annoyed. “Alright, it’s a little funny,” he admitted. “But realize that anytime I wanted to see my soulmate’s first words to me, I had to take down my pants and read them backwards in a mirror.”

“And it really says those exact words?” Phil giggled on.

“It really does. ‘Yes, you are mine’,” Dan recited back the translated version. He was snickering too now.

“God, you must have thought I’d be a serial killer!”

“Or perhaps a raging drunk,” Dan put in. “Speaking of…” His gaze traveled down to his backpack, then over to to the door. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

After exiting the cafe, the two found a grocery store and stopped in to get some sandwiches and paper cups and plates to take with them. The rain had managed to stay away and, for the first day since Phil had arrived, the sun was actually shining. But even if they had walked directly into a hurricane, the day couldn’t have seemed anything but gorgeous to him.

Together, they crossed a few streets, and several minutes later arrived at the large square garden that surrounded Rosenborg Castle. Around them, there were people walking their dogs, riding bikes, or just relaxing in the rare bit of sunshine. Dan guided him over to a spot on the grass near a statue of Hans Christian Andersen and surprised Phil a bit by pulling a blanket from his backpack and spreading it out on the slightly damp grass.

But if the blanket had been unexpected, it only got stranger as Dan proceeded to pull an unopened bottle of champagne out of the bag. Phil looked at him curiously.

Dan shrugged at the reaction. “I always like to be prepared.” Noting Phil’s look of incredulousness, he laughed and explained, “Nah, I bought it when you went looking for the paper plates. It’s funny not getting asked for ID here - there’s no drinking age in Denmark, you know?”

Phil picked up the bottle and scanned the Danish label. “Looks fancy.”

“My dad told me this brand is the best.” Dan popped the cork off, seeming a little surprised as the fizz rushed out. Phil handed him two of the little paper cups and Dan poured them each one.

“Cheers,” Dan said. “Or I guess we should say skål.”

“Skål,” Phil repeated, tapping his paper cup to Dan’s. He took a sip of the liquid, but immediately had to fight to keep from scrunching up his face at the taste. Not wanting to offend his soulmate any more than he’d already done, he hummed, “Mmmm…”.

Dan, who had also sipped his, now frowned and peered into the cup. “Huh. Tastes like ass.”

“Yeah…” Phil agreed with a giggle. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but…”

“Should’ve known Dad was taking the piss.” Dan scooted over to the edge of the blanket and poured his cupful out into the grass. “So much for that.”

“Still, it was a nice thought,” Phil said. “I should have thought to do something cool for you…”

Dan glanced down and his cheeks reddened again. “Oh no, it’s no big deal,” he mumbled quickly. He looked back up. “And you said you’d been learning Danish, didn’t you? That’s a huge something.”

Phil gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, that was a great use of my time, wasn’t it?” With a sigh, he lay back on the blanket and brought his hands up over his face again. “This day has been so humiliating,” he moaned. “Why does this soulmate business have to be so complicated?”

Dan laughed and joined Phil in stretching out on the blanket. “Tell me about it.”

Phil made it about thirty minutes into their picnic before an acute increase in pain and dizziness upon sitting up caused him to vomit his half-sandwich and ass-champagne over the side of the blanket. Mortified, he tried to stand up and move away, but his world was spinning so much that he would have toppled right over if not for Dan grabbing his arm to steady him.

“Whoa, hey, hold on,” Dan commanded as Phil tried to pull away from his grip. “You need to sit back down.”

“I-I need to g-go,” Phil slurred, not entirely sure where he was trying to get to. Besides away, that is. Preferably some place dark and quiet and far removed from other humans. His head was pounding.

“I know, we’re going, just hold on,” Dan assured, though he sounded nervous. Once he was convinced Phil could stand on his own, Dan ducked away to gather everything back into his bag. Phil let his eyes close as he swayed in place, just focusing on remaining upright.

Things were a blur from that point on, due mainly to the persistent ringing in Phil’s ears. Dan moved him to a park bench and then started asking him all kinds of questions. But Dan’s voice was hard to make out - almost like Phil was underwater - so Phil couldn’t give many answers. The questioning finally stopped when a concerned-looking Dan took out his phone and stepped a few paces away to make a call.

About ten minutes later, Dan was ushering Phil into a taxi. Phil had a vague sense that he really shouldn’t be getting into a cab with a man he’d just met an hour or two before, soulmate or not, but he was feeling too out of it to protest. Next thing Phil knew, he was being led into a reception area of a bright waiting room and nudged toward a chair.

“…This a hospital?” Phil mumbled as he sank into his seat. The change in location had made him feel a bit more coherent.

Dan scratched the top of his head, looking awkward. “Yeah… I think you need to get your head checked.”

“Rude.”

“What?” Dan frowned at first, but then his eyes widened in understanding. “Oh no, not like that! I just meant because of the…” He trailed off as he noticed Phil was smirking at him. “Oh. Got your sense of humor back, I see.”

Phil giggled a bit. Gingerly, he lifted his hand up to feel the lump on the back of his skull and winced. It had definitely gotten bigger.

“I should go sign you in,” Dan decided, glancing to the front desk. “Have you got an ID on you?”

Nodding slowly, Phil reached into his pocket and pulled a card from his wallet. “I hope they speak English here,” he mumbled, passing the card to Dan.

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” Dan dismissed him with a shrug. “Pretty much everyone here does.” Once again, Phil felt dumb for having spent so many years worrying about the potential language barrier.

Dan examined the card. “So it’s Lester, is it?” he mused. Phil gave a small grunt of confirmation. “Philip Michael Lester… I like it.” Nodding to himself, Dan turned and took the card up to the reception desk.

The waiting room was surprisingly quiet for a hospital, which Phil greatly appreciated. If only it wasn’t so damn bright. He let his eyes close to block the light out. He must have started drifting off because a few moments later he felt someone gently nudging him back awake. Phil opened his eyes to see Dan had returned and was poking his shoulder, holding a clipboard in the other hand.

“You really shouldn’t sleep with a head injury,” Dan said as he sat down in the chair beside Phil. “This happened to my cousin once and I remember my aunt had to keep waking her up.”

Phil gave a tired grunt in response, his gaze falling to the clipboard which Dan had balanced on his lap.

“Normally they’d just have you scan your ID and then all your info is in the system already, but it won’t work because you’re not from Denmark so we’ve got these forms instead,” Dan rambled in explanation. Phil really couldn’t have cared less how the Danish healthcare system worked at the moment, but he nodded anyway. Leaning forward in his seat, Phil rested his elbows on his knees, allowing him to support his forehead in his hands.

“Do you live with your parents?” Dan’s voice asked.

“Just right now,” Phil mumbled back into his hands. “I’m planning on moving out soon… just don’t have things quite…” he trailed off feeling slightly embarrassed.

Embarrassment was really the emotion of the day for Phil. In the past twelve hours, he had accused a random Danish lady of being his soulmate, then gotten knocked down by a pack of dogs and helped to his feet by a man who turned out to be his actual soulmate, spluttered at him in a foreign language only to discover he spoke English all along, offended the man, and finally made up with him only long enough to puke all over his picnic.

“It’s okay, I live with my family too, whenever I’m home from uni,” Dan said, cutting his thoughts off. “Do you know your mum’s phone number?”

“Er… seven, one…” He closed his eyes tighter and rubbed at them. “Or…Or maybe it ends in seven one?” Normally he knew the number, but his head felt fuzzy and he was tired - so tired.

“That’s alright. What’s her name?”

“Mum…” Phil answered sleepily. His eyes were closed, so he missed Dan’s eyeroll. The tiredness won out and Phil drifted back off again until Dan’s voice startled him back to reality. “Wha..?” Phil mumbled.

“I asked if you’re on any medications,” Dan repeated his question.

Phil frowned. Soulmates or not, surely that wasn’t appropriate to ask someone you’d just met. “No? Are you?”

“Huh?” Dan replied. “Why?”

“Well why did you ask me?” Phil tried to demand. But it came out more like a whine.

Dan giggled a little, tilting the clipboard Phil’s direction as he did so. “Because it’s line twelve on this form.”

“Oh.”

After having filled out as much as he could, Dan returned the forms to the desk and Phil’s name was soon called by a nurse. Dan helped him to his feet and followed him to the doorway, but the nurse stopped him there.

“Sorry, only family is allowed in the exam room,” she said gently.

“Oh okay, I’ll wait here,” Dan said, turning.

“No!” Phil protested, more forcefully than he’d intended. Both Dan and the nurse froze. “I just mean, can’t he stay?” Phil pleaded. “We’re… we’re soulmates.”

Dan looked uncomfortable. “It’s okay,” he assured, glancing down to his feet. “I can just wait.”

“Please?” Phil begged. He wasn’t scared of hospitals exactly, but they always made him nervous, especially now when he wasn’t thinking totally clearly. Plus, having finally met Dan, he had no desire to let the man out of his sight so soon.

The nurse cast him a sympathetic smile before giving a quick nod and leading both of them back to the room.

The exam was fairly straight forward. First Phil had recounted the story of how he’d injured himself after being tripped by a cycling dog-walker (which the doctor declared with a chuckle to be the most Danish accident he’d ever heard). Then he’d been given both a physical and neurological exam, the latter requiring Phil to repeat certain words and solve a few very simple puzzles. In the end, he was diagnosed with a mild to moderate concussion.

“For the next 24 to 48 hours, it’s important that someone monitors you,” the doctor went on to explain to his increasingly drowsy patient. “Since it doesn’t seem to be too serious, it’s not necessary that you stay here overnight, so long as you have a family member or friend who can check you regularly to ensure your condition doesn’t worsen.” He glanced over to Dan. “The two of you are traveling together?”

“Er, well, not exactly…�� Dan began sheepishly. “We sorta met today.”

“…But we’re soulmates,” Phil added groggily. Dan’s cheeks reddened.

The doctor raised his eyebrows. “Congratulations are in order then. This is a big day for the two of you - a shame it had to end in meeting me,” he chuckled. Turning back to Phil, he asked, “Do you have someone who can stay with you to monitor your condition? Otherwise I’ll have to admit you.”

“Uhh…” Though Phil’s head was feeling better than it had two hours ago, he still felt like he was in a fog. He recognized all the words being spoken to him but it was as if they were devoid of any meaning. “I… what?” he asked. He glanced over to Dan and gave him a confused look.

“He’s asking if you have friends in Copenhagen that you’re staying with,” Dan clarified. “Or if you need to sleep here.”

Phil latched onto the second part of that question and frowned. “No, I don’t wanna sleep here.”

“I understand,” the doctor said kindly, “but someone needs to look after you for the next day or two.”

Whether it was from the concussion affecting his emotions or the realization that he might have to spend the night alone in a foreign hospital, Phil suddenly felt like crying. He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering.

“I can stay with him,” Dan piped up, then turned to address Phil. “I mean, if you’re okay with that of course.”

Quickly brushing the tear that was threatening to roll down his cheek away with his hand, Phil cast him a grateful smile.

Satisfied that his patient would be monitored, the doctor went on to explain to Dan exactly how to do the neurological checks and what to do if Phil’s condition changed. Phil used this opportunity to let his heavy eyelids drop, not exactly sleeping but not really listening either.

After a few more minutes, he heard the door click shut as the doctor left and was nudged back to alertness.

“Alright, time to go,” Dan said gently. He helped Phil to his feet and guided him through the door. “I’ll need to call my dad when we get outside to let him know I’ll be staying with a friend tonight.”

Phil looked confused as they entered the hallway. “I thought… I thought you were staying with me?”

Dan rolled his eyes and gave a half-laugh. “It’s you, Phil. You’re the friend.”

“Oh. That’s good.” Phil smiled sleepily. Dan was good company, he decided.

“Phil? Phil, time to wake up.” Someone was gently shaking Phil’s shoulder.

“No…” Phil groaned back without opening his eyes. He tried to tug the duvet up higher around his neck, but the someone was sitting on it. “Tired.”

“This will only take a few minutes,” the voice continued on. Under his breath, he added, “Just like the last five times…”

Eventually, Phil managed to pry his eyes open. He was in a small room lying on a double bed, engulfed in a very white duvet. Next to him sat a man who looked exceedingly familiar, but whom Phil couldn’t quite place. His confusion turned to panic and he sat up quickly. At the sudden movement, his head rushed and then started pounding.

“Whoa careful there…” the man warned. He reached out a hand toward Phil’s shoulder, but Phil scooted himself back against the headboard.

“Who are you?” Phil demanded.

“That was actually my first question for you,” replied the other with a smirk. He held up a small notepad and waved it in Phil’s direction. That also was definitely familiar. “Go on then, who am I? You know this one - at least you did an hour ago.”

Phil’s face screwed up in concentration. It was on the tip of his tongue. “Er….”

“I’ll give you a hint. Starts with D.”

“D?” Phil’s face screwed up in thought. “D… Don? Dave? Dan!” It was all flooding back now. “You’re Dan. I met you today. We had a picnic and you made me drink champagne that tasted like ass.”

“Ooh you’re getting better at this,” Dan remarked. He jotted something down on the notepad. “Took you three more hints last time. And you are?”

“I’m Phil.”

“Good.” Dan made another note. “Know where we are?”

Phil looked around. There was a desk in the corner of the room containing a phone, a mini electric kettle, tiny coffee cups barely large enough to hold two gulps of liquid each, and a stack of what looked to be tourist information brochures in mainly red and white colors. “A hotel,” he deduced. “In Copenhagen. Because I’m on holiday.”

“Excellent,” Dan confirmed. “And that goose egg you’re currently sporting on your skull which necessitates this hourly game of twenty questions is because…?”

Phil screwed up his face in thought. “I think… I fell?”

Dan snorted. “Technically, yes, you fell. Multiple choice bonus question: a group of what species animal tripped you? A, pigeons, B, dogs, or C, squirrels?”

Phil grinned. “Did you know that a group of squirrels is called a scurry?”

“You’ve mentioned that a few times now.” Dan smiled and shook his head slowly as he made another note on the pad. “Funny how that detail sticks when I can’t for the life of me get you to remember the current prime minister…”

“…And a group of ferrets is called a business,” Phil added helpfully.

“Yes, yes, moving on…” Dan answered without looking up from his paper. “What’s the square root of sixteen?”

“Uh… eight?”

“Amazing,” Dan remarked, making a note on the sheet. “No matter what your level of coherency is, you consistently believe that to be eight.”

Phil frowned. “It’s not?”

Dan gave an exasperated sigh, indicating they’d gone over this a few times already. “It’s four, Phil. Four squared is sixteen. Ergo, the square root of sixteen is four.”

Phil gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah… I haven’t had maths for a few years…”

“I’m starting to gather that much,” Dan muttered. He ran his pen down the list one last time. “Alright, you passed. You’re cleared to sleep.”

Phil’s smile faded. “Oh.” He was feeling a lot more alert than he had in awhile and wasn’t quite ready to return to unconsciousness. He glanced around for a clock. “What time is it?”

“Around midnight,” Dan answered. He stood from the bed and transferred over to the desk chair, settling right down into it. “We got back to the hotel at half six and you’ve been out since then. Except for our little interrogations every hour.”

“What have you been doing in between?”

Dan gestured to the small TV on the wall. The sound was muted, so Phil hadn’t even noticed it was on until now. The camera was panning out to show a group of islanders participating in some kind of physical challenge involving paddling a raft full of coconuts.

“What show is that?” Phil asked.

“The Danish version of Survivor, I think. That or it’s a really weird porno - with this country you can never quite tell. I’ve seen four dicks so far. They don’t even blur them out.”

Phil giggled at this. “I saw a bunch of Danish films to help me practice before I came here. I understand.”

Dan raised his eyebrows. “You really went all in, didn’t you?”

“I guess I was just nervous,” Phil said with a shrug. “I wanted to be sure I could relate to you, you know?”

“But isn’t the whole point of a soulmate that you don’t have to worry about that? That you have a promise from the day you’re born that someone out there is going to be perfect for you?” There was something odd about the way Dan said it - an almost bitter undertone.

“Well, yeah, in theory,” Phil defended. “But can you honestly say you never worried about getting along with your soulmate?”

“Didn’t really have to,” Dan mumbled under his breath.

Phil was about to ask what he meant by that when his soulmate brought his hand up to his mouth to cover a massive yawn. “Haven’t you slept at all?” Phil asked.

Dan shook his head. “Not yet. I was going to see if maybe they have a rollaway mattress I can borrow.”

“Oh.” Phil felt a little twinge of guilt. He glanced to his side. “You can take the bed if you want. I’ve slept a lot already…” But even as he suggested this, he felt his own eyelids drooping. Stupid head injuries.

Dan gave a half-laugh and waved Phil off with his hand. “There is no way I’m kicking the guy who’s so concussed that he was unsure of his own name a few hours ago out of the only bed in the room. I’m fine here.”

“Or…” Phil glanced over to the space next to him. “We could just share?”

Dan looked skeptical. “Oh. I don’t know…”

“I mean, unless that’s weird for you,” Phil backpedaled. “I just thought, you know…”

“No, it’s not that,” Dan said quickly. “Just, I don’t want it to seem like, I don’t know, like… I’m taking advantage?” His intonation went up at the end of his sentence, making the words sound more like a question than a statement. “You know, moving too fast?”

Phil thought this was a bit of an odd thing to worry about, given that the universe had already quite literally granted them its stamp of approval. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for newly discovered soulmates to actually sleep together on the eve of their first meeting (though each generation denied to their parents that this was the case). But he just shrugged. “You’ve already seen me fall on my head, throw up my lunch, and forget my own name. I don’t know how much more intimate we can get.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Dan admitted. He flicked off the TV and stood to his feet. “Alright, budge up.”

Dan and Phil got up late the next morning, exhausted from the hourly coherency checks. Or, at least they started out hourly. By three am, Phil had declared himself (in a rather whiny voice) to be “completely healed” and Dan hadn’t been awake enough to argue, so they’d finally silenced the alarms for good and eventually woken to sunlight streaming in through the curtained window. Thankfully, the extra rest seemed to have done Phil a lot of good - his head felt much clearer.

“What exactly is this?” Phil questioned, indicating the very dark, dense bread his soulmate was currently spreading - no, spackling - with butter. The two were seated in the small dining area of the hotel, eating their complimentary breakfast.

“It’s called rugbrød,” Dan explained. He added a piece of cheese on top before passing it over to Phil. “It’s like pumpernickel on steroids.”

Phil took a small bite and chewed it slowly. He’d never been much of a fan of cheese, and this grainy brick-like bread wasn’t helping.

Dan smirked at him, before taking a bite out of his own piece. “Kinda gotta get used to the texture,” he explained with his mouth full, “but between this stuff and potatoes, that’s like 90% of the Danish diet right there.”

“I’m starting to think I might not be cut out for the Danish lifestyle,” Phil said. He wrinkled his nose up and carefully set the bread back on his plate. “First the bicycling dog walkers… now this.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Dan reassured. “Even my dad can’t stand rugbrød and he’s lived here seven years.” He passed Phil one of the plain white bread rolls they’d grabbed as back up.

Phil took the roll gratefully. “It’s funny, really.” He started spreading it with butter. “All my life, I just assumed that I’d end up living in Denmark. It’s weird suddenly feeling like… I dunno, like, I have a choice, I guess.”

Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Like you’re in control for once.”

“Exactly.” He added a piece of ham to his roll and took a bite. “It’s a weird feeling.” Privately, Phil wasn’t sure whether or not he liked this feeling. There was something comforting in the idea that the universe - God or whatever was up there - was looking out for him. That he was part of some greater plan.

They ate in silence for a few moments before Dan said quietly, “You know… sometimes I wonder if this whole soulmate mark business isn’t more trouble than it’s worth.”

“What do you mean?” Phil asked, looking puzzled. “If we didn’t have our marks, how could we ever be sure we’re with the right person?”

“But even with them we can’t be sure sometimes,” Dan countered. “Like my parents for instance. Both of them have ‘Hello’.”

Phil winced in sympathy. Greeting word marks were among the most common soulmate tattoos for sure - he’d had three classmates with ‘Hi’ in primary school alone.

“Nearly everyone they met was a potential candidate,” Dan went on. “They’d known each other four years before they finally decided they might be soulmates and went ahead and got married. Never really could be completely sure.” He paused and then added in a subdued tone, “I kind of think it was the uncertainty that made them split up in the end.”

Phil didn’t really know what to say to that, so he settled for making a small humming noise in his throat. Dan was looking as though he regretted adding that last part. It was understandable; due to most folk’s fervent belief in destiny, divorce was rare. The soulmate bond was something that was meant to be unbreakable.

Quietly, Dan began gathering their used plates and cups together. “It goes the other way too,” he went on after a moment. “One of my uncles… well, he and his wife were definitely soulmates. I can’t remember quite what their tattoos were but it was something completely random, to the point where there was no question they were meant to be. But after a few months, she started being really awful to him - verbally, mostly, but then sometimes she’d hit him too. And my uncle wouldn’t leave her. He said they were meant to be together and nothing should ever separate what fate had joined.” Dan paused and shook his head slowly.

Phil was floored. “But how could that happen? If they were really supposed to be soulmates, how could she treat him that way?”

There was distinct bitterness in Dan’s reply. “Yeah, well the Howell family has never had much luck with the soulmate business.”

Together, they rose from the table and started walking their dishes over to the cart in the corner. “I’m sorry,” Phil said softly. “About your family.”

“It’s not your fault,” Dan said with a shrug. “It’s not really anyone’s fault.” He inhaled deeply before adding on the exhale, so low that Phil just barely made it out, “And that’s the worst part.”

Phil’s flight back to England would be at seven that evening, so after their meal, the two made their way back to the hotel room to prepare to check out. Though they’d been chatting easily earlier in the day, Dan had stayed fairly quiet since their conversation at breakfast. He sat on the floor next to Phil, seemingly lost in thought as the other stuffed his final dirty socks into his mess of a suitcase.

“What are you thinking about?” Phil asked finally, in what he hoped was a casual voice.

“Nothing really,” Dan replied, without looking up. “Just… well it’s weird, isn’t it? To think we just met yesterday and now you’ll be leaving again.”

“Yeah, but we’ll see each other again,” Phil promised. “Once you’re back home, it’s only about a four hour train ride from my house in England to yours. And there’s always Skype.”

“I guess.” Dan sighed lightly. He noticed the corner of a t-shirt sticking out from under the bed, pulled it out, and tossed the shirt over to Phil.

Phil caught it with a grin. “Thanks.”

Dan hummed in acknowledgement, then let his gaze move back straight ahead of him. Phil started zipping the now overstuffed suitcase closed.

“I swear this all fit when I left home,” Phil grunted as he struggled.

“That’s how it always is, isn’t it?” Dan mused. He seemed to be mustering up the courage to say something. “Er… Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh…” Dan began again. “Before you leave…”

Phil paused and looked over. Dan was tugging at his shirt sleeves absently now. “I meant to say it before,” Dan went on. “But I just didn’t know the right time and then you were hurt and all wonky so I didn’t want to do it then…”

“What is it?” Phil asked. His heart was beating faster now.

“I just…” He took a deep breath, which seemed to strengthen his resolve. “It’s about my tattoo,” he blurted. “It’s…” Another breath. “It’s not like it’s…” He started again, then paused. Two breaths this time. “I didn’t exactly… “ He trailed off.

But he couldn’t seem to get the words out.

Finally, Phil spoke instead, his voice low. “It’s alright. I know.”

Dan looked surprised. “What?”

“I know, Dan,” Phil repeated softly. Abandoning the suitcase and crawling across the floor to Dan’s side, he let out a half-laugh of irony. “God knows I’ve been trying to convince myself otherwise, but I’ve known.” Now it was his turn for a breath. “We’re not really soulmates.”

In a flat voice Dan asked, “When’d you figure it out?”

“I’ve had doubts the whole time,” Phil said. “You won’t show me the mark, you look uncomfortable every time I say the word…” He smiled sadly. “I just couldn’t figure out why you’d lie about something like this.”

“But I didn’t lie…” Dan started.

Phil rolled his eyes. “Dan, c’mon. In that cafe, I flat out asked you if we were soulmates.”

“No,” Dan said quickly, “You asked I had a different tattoo. Which I don’t.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it’s not. Look, I’m sorry - I wasn’t honest. I don’t have your mark.” At Phil’s frown, Dan’s words started tumbling out even faster, as though he was scared if he didn’t let them all out at once, Phil would cut in. “But I didn’t lie - not exactly! I was watching you, because… well, because I thought you were cute and I knew I could never have anyone like you for real, and I know that makes me sound like a stalker but I swear I’m not!”

He paused for a breath before diving right in again. “Then you tripped. So I came over because I just wanted to see if you were alright, and your sunglasses were just laying there so I picked them up, but your sleeve was rolled up and your tattoo was right there. And I read it and it just fit so perfectly - like it was meant for that exact moment! And so I asked it - er det dine briller? And your eyes just lit up, and for once in my life I felt like destiny was on my side.”

“But you don’t have my mark,” Phil countered. “We don’t match. You’re meant for someone else.”

“I’m not! I’ll prove it!” Before Phil had time to register what was happening, Dan had stood up and whipped off his own t-shirt. Next came the socks. But as Dan started unbuckling his belt, Phil regained his wits.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” Phil exclaimed, throwing Dan’s shirt back at him. “Put your clothes back on!”

Dan made no attempt to catch the shirt and it fell to the floor next to him. “But don’t you see?” he asked desperately, fingers still fumbling with the buckle. “I’m nobody’s! I have no mark! Nothing! No one!”

Tears were starting to run from Dan’s red eyes down his cheeks now. His words came out thick with emotion. “The universe - God, or whoever is up there - looked at me and decided there was no one compatible with my soul. My parents thought I’d die young - maybe that would have been better than growing up knowing from the start that no one would ever love me like that!”

Phil sat frozen in shock. When a baby was born unmarked, it was always a sobering occurrence. Usually, it meant that the child would die before ever speaking their first words. One of his cousins had been unmarked and died a mere six hours after birth. But to live to be Dan’s age without a tattoo at all was unheard of.

Phil’s attention was drawn to a long, jagged scar on Dan’s otherwise unmarked torso. It started just below his ribs and stretched several inches to the top of his belly button. Dan seemed to sense Phil’s gaze. “A doctor told my parents once he had a theory it might be on the inside,” Dan said in a whisper, running his fingers over the scar. “I was seven years old when I decided I had to find it.”

Phil felt faint. “You… You did that to yourself?”

Dan nodded. “Used the pocket knife Dad got me for my birthday that year. Mum had a fit when she walked into the bathroom and found me in the middle of my little surgery.” In a lower voice, he added, “It was one of the last fights they had before they split.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Phil stammered.

Dan laughed humorlessly. “No one ever does.” His tears had stopped just as abruptly as they’d started and he wiped them away roughly with the back of his hand.

It was a long moment before Phil spoke again, and the words came out cold. “You still lied to me.”

“And I’m not trying to get your sympathy - I swear,” Dan assured. “Just… trying to give you a reason.”

Phil let out a long exhale. Finally, he stood and moved back to the suitcase to finish zipping it. “I think I’m going to go now. I’ll get a cab to the airport. It was nice meeting you, Dan. I just… I need to think.”

“I know,” Dan whispered. “I’m really sorry.”

“Me too.”

With that, Phil turned and starting walking to the door, wheeling his luggage behind him. But upon reaching the doorway, he stopped and spun around again.

“One question,” Phil demanded. “Your mark - why’d you say it was on your bum?”

Dan looked sheepish. “I panicked,” he answered simply.

Phil waited a second for an explanation, but none came.

“Alright then,” Phil said finally, the faintest hint of a smirk visible on his features. “I’ll see you around, Dan.”

And then, Phil really did leave.

It was a chilly morning in November. Dan paced the platform of the train station anxiously. The butterflies in his stomach had given up fluttering the moment the train had arrived and taken to dive-bombing his insides instead. His eyes scanned the crowd, taking in each arriving passenger as they stepped off.

It had taken Phil five days after he’d flown back to England before he’d even replied to a message, and another three after that before he’d agreed to a phone call. He’d said he needed time to think over everything, and Dan had thought that more than fair.

Now, four months and countless Skype calls later, the two were finally meeting up again. Dan spotted his friend in the crowd.

“Phil!” he cried. Dan waved an arm in the other man’s direction. Phil turned his head at the sound and broke into a grin. He pulled his backpack on and rushed over before throwing his arms around Dan and pulling him in tightly for a hug.

“Whoa,” Dan giggled, caught off guard. “What happened to ‘We’ll take it slow this time’?”

Phil shrugged. “Slow is a relative term. We’ve already slept together.”

“Platonically!” Dan argued, releasing himself. “And that was when you were convinced that fate had already given us its stamp of approval.”

“I mean, didn’t it though?” Phil asked seriously. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot the last four months. Your first words to me are tattooed on my skin. Isn’t that how this whole game works?”

“Yes but I cheated,” Dan pointed out. “I read your arm.”

Phil shrugged. “Who’s to say you weren’t destined to cheat?”

At this, Dan rolled his eyes. “Sure Phil, that’s totally how this works.”

Epilogue:

*Seven years later*

“Dan? You almost done in there? I need to shower!” Phil’s voice called from outside the bathroom door.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Dan called back to his boyfriend. Reluctantly, he began pulling up his trousers, covering the still healing script of the freshly aquired tattoo that he’d been admiring in the full length mirror. He giggled at the recollection of himself and Phil, stumbling drunk into the parlor last week, declaring they’d had the most brilliant idea ever.

His ass now agreed. “Ja, Phil,” he giggled, “du er min.”

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