#so he just. doesnt expect to have family anymore. contacts and clients sure. maybe even acquaintances. but no family.

[pikkish]

I know I’m probably really late to this but if that ask game is still happening I’d like to ask desire for Caraval.

AUGH ITS BEEN LIKE 4 MONTHS SINCE I REBLOGGED THAT MEME but yeah sure I'm always down to talk about characters!

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

The one thing that Caraval desires more than anything else is connection. Family. People he knows he can trust to have his back in a tight spot, and people who, in turn, he can help pull out of their own tight spots. He wants to be part of something, not necessarily something big, or grand, or world changing, but something close and purposeful. He wants community.

Unfortunately, this has been denied to him multiple times, from the family he was born into dying to illness while he was away, despite the money and medicine he sent home to them, to his reputation with the family he made in his squad being destroyed after it was discovered he was using his status as a surgeon to smuggle drugs. Follow that up with a long period of only being able to find work with the more unsavorable crowds who don't care so much about morality, and he's gotten a bit bitter and cynical. He knows family is what he wants. He just doesn't expect to really be able to get it anymore.

As for what he's willing to do for that family, should he have it, well. It's no coincidence he was discovered smuggling drugs just around the same time of his family's illness.

[borhapstyles]

Two Weeks

Prompt: “Could you do an imagine where the reader and harry broke up a week ago but he already has a new girlfriend and the reader gets upset but he tries to explain shes a fake girlfriend but the reader doesnt listen. Happy ending please !” -anon

Changed it to a couple of weeks instead of just one, hope you don’t mind! 

Warnings: None (At least I don’t think?) Word Count: 4.2k 

A restless sigh escapes your chest as your eyes scour the room. The familiar feeling blankets itself upon you once again, the feeling of impotence. Your mind is moving a million miles a minute, dictating to do with your day. 

Laundry, reply to emails, finish season two of Queer Eye, read up on recipes and finally cook for the first time in weeks.  

But your body cannot seem to get up from the edge of the bed. 

It still feels too much like him, the room. The crumpled bed sheets beneath you aren’t even really yours; they belong to him but became yours when you moved in together. 

Your fingers tap on the mattress as you shut your eyes, tears building up. 

It had been two weeks which in your eyes was a bit of time, yet no time at all. You could still hear the door shutting from that night and feel the stillness of the room after things had quieted down. 

Your eyes peek through to the bathroom, where three weeks ago that day he was standing with just a towel around his waist and a toothbrush in his hand. He moved fervently and you just chuckled to yourself at the abuse the pink toothbrush was receiving. His cheeks turned up at the sound and he turned to you with bright eyes. 

But those bright eyes are no more. 

-

Harry’s dull eyes examine his drained visage. The water from the faucet below him runs and it takes him a few moments to register that he’s left the sink on. Dark circles seem to pack on even more than usual- Lou is going to have some strong words with him today. 

He glances out the door of the bathroom into a room that is comfortable but not home to him. Three weeks ago he would’ve found you sitting on the edge with your cheeks dyed rose, gazing at him with admiration. Now all he sees is an empty, unmade bed, burning in the sunlight. 

A hollowness furnishes his chest as he thinks back to the time. God, he misses you like crazy. But the words exchanged between the two of you were so harsh, perhaps too harsh. There’s no turning back from that. Or is there?

“Harry!” Thundering knocks permeates his thoughts. “I’ve got to head out today but I‘ve left you some french toast on the table! Make sure you clean up afterwards!” 

A faint smile pokes at Harry’s face. He had gone to stay with Gemma for a bit after your break-up, just until he could find a new place to move into. The flat, as decided the night you two parted, would be yours since his home in LA, in your words, “has seen more of him in the last eight months than she or their flat have.” His sister, no matter how old they got, would always make sure to look after her baby brother. 

“Thanks Gem! I’ll see you later!” He shouts back before throwing his toothbrush back into its holder. 

Perhaps. He thinks to himself whilst staring at the bed. Perhaps. 

-

“How are you holding up?” Your best friend echoes through your phone. You stand with a cookbook open in your kitchen, flipping through pages to try and find a meal that looks appetizing but easy to make. 

“Well, you know.”

Your friend sighs through the phone and the honk of a car horn in the background.

“What am I supposed to do, Y/BF/N, it still hurts. And it doesn’t help that some of his shit’s still here.” 

“You need to go out, okay, or do something fun at least. And maybe sell his things, you can make a lot out of that.”

“I am doing fun things!” You defend yourself. “Cooking is very entertaining.”

“It’s been two weeks, Y/N. At least come out with me today-” Your sigh cuts into her plea. “Come on, just for a couple hours, and if you decide that your couch and Netflix needs you more, then you can go home.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll go, but give me an hour to get ready and everything.”

“I’m already on my way with breakfast for the both of us, I’ll just let myself in.”

- 

Nothing can describe what Harry is feeling right now. Absolutely nothing. 

“And you two are going to take a stroll down the Mayfair district...” The PR’s coordinator’s voice is saturated by the immense displeasure that is now occupying the whole of him. 

A fake girlfriend? Harry wasn’t 18 anymore. He thought getting out of One Direction also meant getting away from the bullshit of fake-dating for the press, but everything comes at a price apparently.

His head shakes feverishly as the press manager’s words register in his brain.

“Your breakup with Y/N is sad, yes, but imagine how much will stir up if you’re seen with someone else two weeks later! The amount of people that will Google your name, you won’t even believe...” 

Anger? Grief? Agitation? 

There are no words, as perhaps it is a mixture of all. 

His phone in front of him buzzes and he hopes for a second that it’s you. But why would you call? After what he said? It’s just Niall, checking up on him.

“Harry?” His head shoots up to meet the eyes of his own manager. “You alright?”

The manager of Clara, his fake girlfriend for who knows how long, looks at Harry with an expectant face. 

“No.” He firmly replies, tangling his hands together. The rest of the employees in the room whip their heads around, studying his next move.

“Is it really necessary for us to hold hands?”

Clara’s manager, Leslie, purses her lips, exhaling. “Yes, Harry. You do, how else are you meant to prove that there’s a relationship between you two?”

“I’ve seen people assume the worst from a lot less, the press can write what they will but I’m sure they can take a lot from us walking around.” Harry reasons. As much as he doesn’t want to sound like he’s pleading, he truly is desperate to do as little as possible in this situation. 

“It’s true.” H’s manager steps in, trying to defend his client. Though he wants the best for Harry’s career, he doesn’t want him to suffer either. 

“I-I don’t know.” Leslie sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Hold hands, don’t hold hands, as long as it gets the message across, do whatever it takes.”

From the other end of the room, a silent Clara makes a small noise of exhaustion as she stares at the ground. Harry peers at her for a moment, empathy creeping in. She just wanted to be an actress and be known for her own talents, not written in as Harry Styles’s girlfriend. He frowns, understanding her position.

“I think we’re all set here, yeah? We all ready to head out?” 

No, but I’m going to have to anyways. Harry thinks to himself. 

- 

“See! This is nice, right! You’re in the car, we’re driving around London...” Your best friend nudges. You roll your eyes but smile at their efforts, resting a hand on the window to hold your head up.

“I’m not seeing anything I haven’t seen before.” 

“Oh come on.” They groan. “We’re going out to buy you new shoes! It’s going to be eventful, at least more so than sitting at home and rewatching Thor: Ragnarok!”

“Hey!” You shout. “Watching Ragnarok is the best thing I can do for myself. Thor is-”

“Okay, okay. I know, Thor is everything.” 

The conversation continues on to other TV shows and before you know it, you’re in Chelsea for a bit of shopping. 

“What are we doing in on Oxford Street? Westfield not enough?” You ask sarcastically before shutting the car door.

“Not for a break-up like this.” Your friend replies and you laugh, realising for at least the entirety of the car ride, you did not think about Harry. 

As you are making your way to the first shop, you see several paparazzi lounging around, as if waiting for someone to arrive. You shrug, thinking it must be for the Beckham family or someone else as it isn’t unusual for celebrities to be shopping in London.

-

“Try not to look so grim.” Harry’s manager instructs through the phone as he exits the car. He hangs up before sighing, tugging his coat closer for the upcoming task. 

His eyes case the area, noting the several paps already getting their cameras ready. Bystanders shoot their heads up and Harry makes eye contact with some, waving with a short smile. Some wave back, most simply stare in shock.

“Ready then?” Clara’s voice breaks through to him. He looks at her and nods before they begin their walk. Much to Harry’s pleasure, they had agreed that holding hands was a bit too much and would seem unnatural, so they opted to stroll close by each other, pretending to be in deep conversation.

“What sort of films do you act in?” Harry asks. 

“Oh, nothing big just yet, I’ve mainly been doing TV appearances. I did a bit for BBC and a couple things in The States but I’m really trying to get into a dramatic role sometime soon.”

Harry nods. “I see, I see. I wish you luck with that.” 

He tries his best to be interested but her soft voice reminds him too much of your sweetness. If only it were you walking by him, then he would have no trouble looking in love. He wouldn’t have to pretend.

"So, I saw Dunkirk when it premiered...” Her voice drowns out once he hears something else.

No, oh no it couldn’t be.

But it is.

It’s your laugh, live and in person from a few meters away. He’s never shot his head up so fast. 

For a moment he’s stunned. He can see from your face that you haven’t exactly been having the easiest couple of weeks either, but by the sound of your laughter and the looks of you with your best friend, you were okay.

He watches intently as you enter the shop. Clara’s urgent voice prods at him.

“Harry? Harry?”

He snaps his head towards Clara, brows furrowed.

“Ye-Yeah, sorry. What?”

“I was asking about working with Fionn Whitehead.” He blinks for a few seconds, trying to get back into the right headspace, not that the one he was in before he saw you was any better.

“He’s great, he’s fantastic. I-uh...” The two walk past the shop you are now in and he catches a glimpse of you trying on some shoes through the window.

“He’s what? Haz?”

“Please don’t call me that.” Harry speaks sharply, sending Clara in a frantic, apologetic state.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve seen Y/N call you that-”

“No, no, I’m sorry as well. I’m not in a very happy mood at the moment and hearing that, especially since Y/N used to call me that... it isn’t very good for me I don’t think.” He solemnly replies. 

Photographers begin their session, keeping their distance but shout vulgar things. 

“Are you guys dating now? What happened to Y/N!”

“Is it true that you were cheating on Y/N with Clara Hughes?”

“Wow, two weeks and you’ve already moved on? That’s quicker than the Kardashians! Bravo Styles!”

Harry seethes and Clara makes note of his demeanour, placing an arm on his shoulder. The flashes increase with the gesture and Harry stiffens.

“Let’s go inside the cafe.” She nudges and he only follows her movements.

-

“Jeez, who the hell is that?” 

You glance over at your friend whose face is scrunched in displeasure.

“That swarm over there, is that the queen or something?” You follow your friend’s gaze to the large cluster of paparazzi. You remember being in that swarm, clutching on to Harry tightly as he wraps his arm around you, trying to shield you from all the words and flashes. 

You grip the shopping bag in your hand tighter.

“Dunno, maybe.” You reply. For a second you think you see Harry’s boots underneath the group but they disappear into the coffee shop before you can even tell.

“On to the next shop?” Your friend suggests and you nod slowly, moving past the cafe and past Harry.

-

Hours later you return home with your best friend. Your body aches from a day full of shopping but you’re thankful that your friend convinced you to go out. Walking the streets of London never fails to do wonders for your soul, even if this time it’s without Harry.

“Thank you for agreeing to stay over, by the way.” You say to your best friend whilst locking the apartment door behind you.

“Oh please, if I wasn’t around I don’t think you would’ve gotten up today.”

You shake your head laughing at the half-truth before opening the fridge. “I’m going to get the pasta started.” 

“Fantastic, I’ll just be in the bathroom for a bit.” Your best friend calls out and you reply an “Okay”. 

Whilst waiting for the water to boil, you grab your phone and out of habit, click on twitter. You are on private and didn’t have a wide range of followers but you did still have one person following you to your surprise: Harry. You quickly click to see your timeline and wait patiently as it refreshes but before you can look at the first meme, your best friend runs out to you in a panic. 

“Y/N! Y/N Y/N!” You almost drop your phone at the frantic tone of her voice. 

“What, what?! Is something wrong? What’s happened?!”

 “Don’t check twitter, please don’t.” She breathes out heavily, her hair a mess from rushing out of the bathroom so quickly.

“Okay, but why did you have to tell me n-“ “Just, don’t check it. Or Instagram, don’t. Or even snapchat. You know what, just don’t use your phone tonight, okay?” 

“Would you mind telling me why it’s so bad for me to?” She bites her lip and sighs, contemplating if she should even bother. It would kill you to see what she saw. Hell, it killed her as your best friend when she saw photos of Harry with another girl. She can’t even imagine how you would feel, considering it’s only been two weeks and she just got you in a better mood. 

“I-I can’t, not right now. After I shower, maybe. But please, don’t check your phone while I’m gone, okay?” You reluctantly agree. Your best friend wouldn’t go through all this trouble if it wasn’t important. 

Now if only she could shower faster so you could find out what was so troubling. 

-

“Harry!”

 Harry’s head whips up at Gemma’s shout. He climbs out of bed to greet Gemma for the first time since this morning.

 “What is this?” Gemma shoves her phone in his face which, much to his displeasure, is remnants of today’s events. “It’s literally only been two weeks, Harry, and you’ve already gone out with someone else? I thought Y/N was the love of your life?! I know mum-“ 

“It wasn’t by choice, Gem!” He shouts. “It wasn’t by choice.” 

Gemma’s mouth closes at her younger brother’s words. She steps further into Harry’s room, slumping down on his bed. 

“I guess, they’re trying to get some more news out there about me and apparently capitalising on my breakup by setting me up with someone else was the thing to do.” He utters, voice laced with disgust. He felt used. He felt confused. He felt like he didn’t know himself. It almost makes him chuckle- a couple weeks without you and he’s almost lost himself. 

“I tried to fight it but I just couldn’t, Gem.” Harry speaks. The bed dips as he takes a seat next to his sister. “I didn’t have it in me to. I felt so powerless. I haven’t felt like myself and I didn’t know what to do.”

 “Oh, Harry.” Gemma frowns, wrapping her hands around her brother. Tears fill the brims of Harry’s eyes and he leans over to his sister. “Now she’s going to see them and she isn’t going to speak to me again.” 

For the first time, Gemma is at a loss for words. She wants to help Harry but if she knows anything about you for the two years you’ve been with Harry, she knows you’re almost as stubborn as he is and won’t have any of this explanation.

But if she also knows you, she knows you and Harry are still very much in love will eventually go back to each other. 

“Why did you two break up in the first place?” Her brows furrow as she realises that Harry never gave her a firm explanation. He just showed up at her doorstep one day, eyes red and hair disheveled. “I never pushed for an explanation but it’d be nice to know so I can help.”

“We got too busy for each other.”

“Harry, that’s no reason to-”

“It is. Or rather, it was. I’m on the road like seven months out of the year and if I’m not touring I’m in the studio or doing something for the press. Obviously with her new job she can’t leave as much if at all like when she was in uni.”

Gemma stares into the hardwood floors of her guest bedroom. Her brother’s managed to make this room feel lonelier than ever in a span of just a few days.

“A few days after I got back, we got into an argument over something small, something petty. I can’t even remember what it was about. But she just went off on me about how we hardly see each other and I guess it was buildin’ up for her because she sat me down and eventually said she can’t do it anymore.” Tears tumble over Harry’s cheeks as he thinks back to the day. “I mean, can you blame her for not wanting to be with someone who’s never ‘round?”

“Harry-”

“I should’ve fought harder, Gem. But I didn’t...” He sniffles, wiping away tears with his wrists. “and now she’s going to see those photos and think I’m some womanizer, just like all the papers.”

“She will not think that, Harry.” Gemma states firmly. She lays a hand onto his shoulder before reaching over to give him a tissue. “If she paid any attention to you over these two years, if she knows you at all, then she knows you are far from a womanizer.” 

Harry���s lips purse together as his slouch grows deeper. He doesn’t know what to do with himself and he’s scared to do anything else.

“I don’t believe anyone would just throw away two years together unless there was some bigger reason. And for you two, there isn’t. She knew what she was getting herself into and obviously she loved you. Loves you, still.” Gemma pats Harry as he continues to stay quiet. She can see the gears turning inside his head and holds back a small chuckle. 

“You need to go see her.” She whispers into the silence of his room. 

-

“Rumours have it that Harry and Clara are moving in with each other as today they were looking at furniture in the Mayfair district?!” You screech, reading the article from People magazine. 

“Please don’t throw-” Your best friend is cut off as you slam your phone down into the couch before shoving your own head inside a pillow to scream.

“It’s been two fucking weeks! TWO! Who the fuck does he think he is?!” 

Your best friend shakes her head. “A bastard, that’s who. He’s a complete dickhead and honestly, I can’t believe you ever went out with him.” 

“I can’t believe that this is actually him now! Going out with ‘Clara Hughes’, whoever the fuck that is. Did our relationship mean nothing to him?! Did he just- oh my god.” You stop yourself mid-sentence. You huff and turn to your friend, who stares at you with confused eyes.

“Do you think he was cheating on me even before we broke up?” 

Your friend opens their mouth to reply several times before words actually come out. “You can’t assume that.”

“He was so distant before he came back home to London and when he did, he picked fights over the littlest things and... oh my god. It makes sense. Now that I think about it, it’s like he didn’t even fight for our relationship when we broke up.”

You sigh and stare out the window quietly. Part of you doesn’t believe in the theory but the other half doesn’t know what to think anymore.

A knock interrupts the silence of your living room and you look to your best friend for answers.

“Did you order anything?”

“No...” You stand up and grab a knife from the kitchen just in case. Whilst looking through the peephole, you almost roll your eyes.

“Who is it?”

“It’s... Harry.” You utter. You haven’t said his name in days.

“I’ll be in your room, let me know if you need anything, okay?” You nod at your best friend before setting the knife down and opening the door.

“I hope you have a good reason for coming here at a quarter past midnight.” You seethe. Harry looks at you with sad, puffy eyes and for a moment you feel bad for your tone of voice. 

His voice is raspy when he replies. “I-I want us to talk. If that’s okay.” 

You bite your lip, considering the situation in front of you. 

“Please.” Harry pleads and so you open the door further. He steps in, admiring the flat he once shared with you. Nothing’s really changed, but then again, he wasn’t there too much for him to put his stamp on things.

He sits down on the couch and watches you intently as you take a seat a few cushions away from him. 

“Those pictures today-” 

“Were you cheating on me while we were together?” You snap. 

“What? No, no! Of course not! What do you think of me?” Harry frantically responds.

“You tell me, Harry.”

“I was going to say that those pictures which I’m sure you saw today, they’re fake. Management has set me up with some fake girlfriend for some shit reason but they mean nothing to me, she means nothing to me.”

“Well that’s rude.”

“It’s the truth.” He says staunchy. He scoots just a bit closer, fearful that you’ll move away.

“I meant, your management. That’s rude of them to force you to go out there and date someone else just like that. It’s just going to make your “public image” look worse.” 

Harry sighs in agreement. He pushes hair back from his face before he looks to you. In an ideal world, he’d hold you closer to him and criticize the world of PR. But for today, opposite ends of the couch will have to do.

“I’m sorry.” 

“For?”

“For being a terrible boyfriend to you over these last few months. For not making enough of an effort to see you or even just facetime you. I’m sorry my schedule makes it difficult for us to even have a phone call because you sleep when I’ve just woken up sometimes and I’m moody even when we chat.” You chuckle at his last statement, not even noticing that he’s moved even closer to you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough that night for you, and I’m sorry that there came a point in our relationship where you felt unhappy enough to breakup with me.” Harry continues, shaking his head at the last statement. Tears are now brimming in both your eyes as he grabs your hand. “It should never have gotten to that and I can’t believe I let it.”

You stare into Harry’s green eyes and almost smile. Almost. That’s the one thing you loved about eyes, no matter how old a person got, they are one of the things that never change.

“You are the best person I know and you deserve the best in this world. I’m sorry I was not that for you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You whisper. Harry’s brows cross at your reply. “I’m sorry I haven’t been as understanding. I think I demanded too much of you but I forget that it’s just you out there doing things now. The boys aren’t with you anymore so the pressure is higher for you to produce and make things for this world.”

This time, you find yourself scooting closer to him. 

“So much has changed in both our lives and I think we’ve forgotten that if we don’t grow together then we just grow apart.”

“I don’t want that for us.” He utters, squeezing your hand. He watches as tears roll down your cheeks.

“I don’t want that either. But I don’t know how we can make this work if you’re out here and I’m here and-”

Harry cups your face and you lean into his warm hands. “We will figure it out. I know we will. I will make sure that there is time at the end of my day to speak to you, to be with you.”

“And I will make sure to bribe my boss into letting me take more time off.” You joke and Harry laughs. You feel a smile creep up onto your face, not having heard that laugh in far too long.

“I love you, and I need you to remember that, darling.”

“I love you too, Haz.” 

Still cupping your cheeks, Harry leans in for a kiss that is long overdue.

Suddenly, you hear your bedroom door open with your best friend peeking their head out. 

“Have you two finished fucking yet?!” 

—

le fin!

I started this imagine back in January and it’s now July. I’m so sorry to the person who requested it all those months ago, but here it is now! I haven’t written creatively in such a long time so I’m sorry it’s a mess. I’m also sorry I haven’t been active as a writer on here lol but I do read a lot of things on here. I’m mostly an Avengers girl now, specifically Thor, Steve Rogers and Wanda Maximoff. I may write about them soon. In any case, I hope you all enjoy x

Love to you all, Iz xx