the colour of his shirt is the exact same colour as these tags

I Think You’re My Best Friend

Summary: Dan and Phil get matching tattoos.

Genre: fluff, reality

Warnings: mentions of needles (bc tattoos) and pain mention (i guess?)

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: i started this fic like a month ago but i haven’t had any inspiration to finish it…. until now! yeah i’ve had a week off school due to hurricane harvey and flooding (stay safe fellow texans) so i was like “i’ll finish this fic” and i did! i hope i got the process of getting a tattoo right. i’ve never had one, but i researched it so i hope what i found was right. it took me ages to figure out what i wanted the tattoo to be, so i hope this isn’t too cheesy or cringy ^-^ title taken from the song “The Kids Aren’t Alright” by Fall Out Boy (such a dnp song. go give it a listen). also does this count as a songfic? idk. 


“We should get matching tattoos.”

Phil choked on his drink. Very slowly, he looked up to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. He cleared his throat.

“What?” Phil rasped out. Dan smirked.

“I said we should get matching tattoos.” Dan said smoothly as he leaned back in his chair. Phil shook his head.

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*Jackson Whittemore* Colours

Jackson Whittemore X Girl

Requested: Probably not

Plot: Every single soul sees in color until they lose the hope of finding a soulmate.

Word Count: 1,191

A/N: Not my gif, credit to the owner. This is an AU soulmate kind of thing I guess. It’s my own twist to the soulmate colour thing.

I remember the first day I lost all hope for a Soul mate. The world around me started to dull, turning duller over the course of three months. Eventually all the colour was gone and all I saw was blacks, whites, and greys.  

At the age of nineteen you can no longer find just any soulmate. Only your true soulmate, your heart can pick any person to become your soulmate. Anyone you click with, once your soulmate is picked, a dark painful mark surfaces your left shoulder blade. The mark that appears on your skin is the exact same one that appears on your soulmate. Marking you belong to them and no other soul out there.

I’ve only heard stories about soulmates from my parents. They weren’t just any pair of soulmates, they are true soulmates. There is a big difference between a soulmate and a true soulmate.

True soulmates always put the other before themselves, a soulmate has a choice to be selfish. Being true soulmates made them more connected, feeling what their feeling, knowing what they’re always thinking, and the bond is much stronger than just a soulmate’s. People choose soulmates so they didn’t have to lose the hope of never finding their true soulmate.

I’d rather lose hope than have a soulmate that might leave me one day. Watching the way my parents are with each other made me long for mine. My true soulmate may be out there, but I lost hope for him.

No matter if I was waiting for him, my time was coming up. My nineteenth birthday was around the corner.  If I was going to make the choice to just settle for a soulmate. I had to make it fast, if he was dead I didn’t want to see no colour for the rest of my life.

“You do realise that staring out the window isn’t going to get you anywhere.” The angelic voice of my best friend, Monica reached my ear. I snapped my head from the café’s big celling to the floor window and looked at her. Monica’s hair was a very light grey with highlights of white. The last time remembered, her hair was a light blonde.

My hair was a dark grey all most a light black, no matter whose eyes saw me. My hair was the same colour, my skin, my clothes, and anything I touch was black and white.

“Sorry.” I mumbled looking down at the black liquid in my white cup. Maybe I got the colours right, or totally off. How was I suppose to know?

“Stop thinking about soulmates, I swear you get even more colourless.” Her British accent more noticeable. I moved here, to London a few years ago. When I still had hope for my true soulmate. I was looking for him, but I stopped after losing hope for him.

“Can you tell me the colour of the cup?” I asked now looking at it.
“Light blue, almost the colour of the sky on a hot day. A blue that’s almost white.” She said not questioning it.

“What color is the cup in your eyes?” She asked back.

“White, White, and white.” I responded,

Monica never lost hope for her soulmate, since she found her at a young age. Why couldn’t I have found him at a young age? Or during the years through high school.

Monica’s true soulmate was beautiful like her, her skin popping with dark greys. Telling me her skin was one of the chocolate colours. I couldn’t tell which shade. Because I haven’t seen colours in so long.

“It’s okay, you were so close.” Monica reached out for my hand, her friendly gesture calming my nerves. I lash out on the topic of seeing in colour,  but that never kept me away from knowing it.

“Sorry to interrupt.” A husky voice said, sounding like music to my ears. We both looked up at him, he wore a black shirt. Rolled at the sleeves lightly, a grey name tag over the left side of his chest, reading ‘Jackson’. He must of worked here, there was no other explanation for the name tag.

“Can I get you anything else?” He asked politely, holding a notepad and a pen in his hands. Ready to write whatever we wanted down.

As soon as we locked eyes, the pain on my left shoulder when we first came into this place. Began to spread and intensify, my attention too focused on the pain, I missed what Monica said.

“Ow?” I burst confused on what the hell was happening, soon I was screaming as if this was my last moment to live. The pain felt as if something was biting into my shoulder slowly and I couldn’t help but scream for help. My throat became raw and sore, I didn’t stop. The pain continued and so did my screaming.

My senses lost control not knowing what was going on around me. It felt as if nothing could ever hurt as much as this did. This was physical pain and it stood over my mental pain proudly.

Suddenly it stopped as if someone pushed the off button, my cries immediately stopped, I breathed heavily. Taking a moment for my body and soul to relax, it was quite in the café, like it was closed for the day.

“Jen?” Monica’s voice weary and the full of concern.

“Yeah?” I sighed out slowly picking myself off the booth’s bench I was sitting on. I Hadn’t noticed I fell, The leathery fabric stuck to the side of my face. Vaguely glued to the leather from the tears that spilled from my eyes.

I sat up looking at Monica, a happy glint sitting in the corner of her eyes. I furrowed my eyebrows, now feeling many eyes staring holes into me. I turned my head seeing everyone in the café looking at me and the man on the floor.

I looked down at him perplexed, what was going on? Why was everybody looking at me like that? The light grey of his teary eyes turning into a bright blue. Colour started pouring into everything around me as I felt my soul being filled with energetic power.

His eyes too stunning to look away from, in the center of his eyes. I watched as two souls engulfed each other. One grey as the other a blinding white, swirling until they became one solid bond. Now realizing one soul belonged to me and the other belonging to him.

“True. Soulmate.” Were the simple words that came from his beautiful and now pink lips.

“That’s- That isn’t possible.” I mumbled back with wide eyes, probably looking like a deer in headlights. Not in ten years would I have thought I’d meet my soulmate, my true soulmate.

I did whatever I did when I didn’t know what to do. Monica could usually sense what I normal did in moments like theses.  “Don’t run.” She warned, it was too late. My feet took control right after Monica spoke. I was out of the café in seconds and into the colour world. With my true mate chasing me.

This was inspired by the prompt - We accidentally switched our suitcases from the airport terminal AU, which I saw cross my dash yesterday. And it ended up a lot longer than I expected. Oops!

Red. Pink. Black. Black. Another black. Pink again. Green. Hawaiian print? Blech.

The suitcases continued to loop around in a never ending circuit, all different shapes and sizes and colours. The longer she stood there, the more suitcases appeared on the conveyor belt, as though every person in the damn world had been travelling on her flight. And right now, they were all preventing her from doing what she really wanted to do.

All Katniss Everdeen wanted as of this moment was to get to her hotel, have a shower and scrub the last 8 hours of sitting next to a drunk guy falling asleep on her shoulder off of her skin. And order a meal and a beer from room service.

She glanced at her watch, noted that she’d been waiting close to 15 minutes already. It probably wasn’t all that long in the grand scheme of things, but she’d already seen a few people arrive after her and saunter off with their Samsonites, iPhones already up to their ears as they reconnected with the world.

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