#the god doesnt even look in its direction simply waving a hand

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Virgil's Birthday (Prinxiety)

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Virgil was, very lonely for someone who lived in such a vibrant society.

But that was most likely because he'd never been outside in his afterlife, at least, not legally.

The doctor was a strange man, he'd only brought Virgil back with the false impression of gaining a wife, or husband as Virgil reprimanded him for soon after being brought back.

But Virgil learned things fairly quickly, like which potions produced the most pro-longed sleep, so he could sneak out.

And what a time to sneak away, the night of halloween, decorations everywhere, singing and dancing.

And rising from a fountain, in all his skeletal glory, Roman Prince-Duke, the ruler of halloween. Virgil couldve fainted on the spot, gods he was hot.

"That's the second time you've slipped deadly nightshade into my soup," Virgil froze as he heard his doctor's voice.

"Third, actually," Virgil replied as he tried to wrench his arm out of the doctor's grip.

And then he heard a tear, but he was running to fast to care about the stub where his arm had once been stitched.

And then he heard singing, something sorrowful and lamenting. He expected to look up and see one of the sirens, only to be taken aback by the sight of the skeleton king.

He doesnt want to rule halloween anymore?. . . Virgil thought silently. He could hardly remember the last time a halloween ruler had felt unhappy with his position, but this, this couldnt lead to good things.

Virgil followed him as closely as possible, until he went beyond the gates of the town, at which point, Virgil had lost him.

So he followed the only other option he had, return home and to whatever awaited him there.

"So, you came back," was the doctor's first snide remark.

"I had to," Virgil replied, tilting his head to the side which had stitching hanging off of it.

"Looking for this?" Virgil couldnt see much of the doctors face, it was always hidden by gray and black smoke, save for glasses, and a broad fanged grin, and he held up the arm Virgil was missing, which waved pitifully.

"You cant keep leaving, it's not safe out there, you know the rules," said the doctor as he stitched Virgil's arm back to the socket. Virgil hated this part of his adventures, the bright lights directly in his face along side the patronizing glare from the doctor. He hadnt even asked to be stitched back to life, much less in a fashion that was basically a prison.

"I'm restless I cant help it!" Virgil shot back, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"You're mine you know. I made you," the doctor snarled.

"Well I didnt ask you to." Virgil said, shrinking back as the smoke of the doctors form intruded on his own breathing space.

He was relieved when it was finally over and he could go back to working on the doctors next meal, which would of course, be poisoned.

"And now for the final touch," Virgil coughed slightly as the fumes of the frogs breath entered the concoction. He was lucky to keep a straining spoon in his boots, otherwise he would've been screwed when the doctor asked him to try it first.

But lucky it worked, because it seemed that his beloved Prince Roman hadnt been out for ages.

So he decided to send him a basket. It took a few tries to get him to notice, but the smile he cast Virgil was enough to make even the coldest hearts melt.

Of course Virgil couldnt stay for long, he had to make sure he didnt get caught.

He wouldnt have to wait much longer, soon enough there was a town meeting called. Roman went on for hours about something called "Christmas". And everyone else seemed sold on the idea, but Virgil wasnt so sure.

"Roman I'm not sure I-" Virgil had tried his best to dissuade Roman from the idea when he'd asked for a costume, but Roman was stubborn, very stubborn.

"You'll do great! See! The red goes here, and this part is white, its easy!" Roman said, shoving Virgil in another direction, Virgil had to dodge quickly as the doctor entered his field of vision, that was a confrontation he certainly wasnt ready for.

"This just doesn't feel right. . ." Virgil muttered to himself, running a hand along a nearby set of bushes.

And then he noticed something off about one of them, a star and brightly colored ornaments, which promptly burst into flames. Virgil jerked his hand back, eyes wide with fear, and rushed back toward the hall to warn Roman as quickly as he could.

"Roman!-" Virgil skidded to a halt before he ran into the trio of trouble makers that was Apate Hera and Adrestia, or as the town liked to call them, the Trick or Treaters.

"What is it Virgil?" Roman placed his hands over Virgil's shoulders, boy was he glad he didnt have enough blood to blush.

"I dont think this is a good idea- I've been thinking it over and- oh Roman there has to be something else! This is insane!" Virgil pleaded.

"Of course it's insane! That's the point!" Roman said, smiling at him.

"Roman I'm serious! This is dangerous!" Virgil continued.

"Virgil my friend I swear to you this is all perfectly safe! It's only one night! Maybe more if it goes well!" And once again Virgil was being ushered out the door.

He avoided the celebrations for the most part, just thinking about it made him want to vomit.

And then it was December 25th, and Virgil couldnt take it anymore.

Roman may have wanted to take over Christmas, but Virgil knew better, hence why he had decides to make his way to the forbidden isle, upon which lived the disgraced former king of Halloween, and upon which, Santa Claus was being held captive.

Virgil snipped the stitches on one of his legs and allowed it to hop away. It would be difficult to preform a rescue mission minus one leg, but Brennan wasnt exactly smart.

Or so he thought.

"Well well well, isnt this a surprise? Come to rescue Christmas, ragdoll?" Virgil froze halfway down the ladder as he heard Brennan's voice.

"Put your leg back on." Virgil was pulled off the ladder rather unceremoniously, leg shoved back in one hand. Virgil fell back on the floor, heart racing. But he did as told, it wasnt as if he could run after all.

He'd forgotten what Brennan was like, it'd been so long since his rule. He was a gambler, a crooked one at that.

"One more roll of the dice outta do it~" Brennan purred.

Virgil wasnt paying much attention at that point, currently focused on begging for Roman to show up.

And then the table to which he was tied began moving backwards, he screamed, and he fell. But only for a moment, before he was tossed off to the side, and face to face with Roman, who motioned for his silence before latching himself to the board.

Virgil had never been more terrified than he was while watching Roman dodge everything from swords to guns to axes, he let out a wince and reached a hand over his own stitching as Brennan's began to fall apart with a switch.

"Are you alright?" Roman rushed to Virgil's side as soon as he'd finished, holding Virgil's face gently in his hands.

"I'm alright- just a little shaken. . ." Virgil muttered.

"Well I for one have had it with place. Next time you have any bright ideas of taking over someone else's holiday. I'd listen to him, hes the only one who makes any sense around this insane asylum!." It was odd to see a character like Santa so angry, but at this point, Virgil was to tired to focus on much.

He barely flinched when he saw the doctor with another creation, this one more wispy and feminine.

Instead, he went up to Hangman's Hill and lay across the grass.

"My dearest friend, if you dont mind~" Virgil shivered when he heard Roman's voice.

"I'd like to join you by your side~" Roman sat down.

"Where we can gaze into the stars~" and their hands were intertwined.

"And sit together, now and forever, for it is plain as anyone can see," Virgil joined his chorus, resting his head against his chest.

"We're simply meant to be~"

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@frog-candy-bee

[sluttyprincessinarizona]

Taishiro Toyomitsu (FatGum) x shy! reader (fluffies!)

This is my first, o f f i c i a l tumblr fanfic, so woo! I ' m f c k i n g t e r r i f i e d -anyway, this is a FatGum x reader, because Tai is the cutest thing and I don't see enough of him. I'll be doing some of my personal favorites from the anime, ranging from popular to underrated characters, so I hope anyone who comes across this weird mess enjoys it! Leave a comment, or like, or smth, because I think this will be really cool, and i wanna be like those other awesome fanfic writers one day- anyways, byeee!

Word count: Idk dude, I'm on mobile-(it's a lot tho, trust me-)

Warnings: Mild cursing, also make sure to brush your teeth afterwards, cause this will give you a toothache from the sweetness-

A box. Wait, what? Where did it come from? Who put it there? Is this a prank? It smells like…Takoyaki?!? Fatgum rushed to his desk, opening the pastel purple box sat neatly on his desk. ¨Yes! Morning snack!¨ He cheered whilst fist pumping the air. Fatgum reached to take a piece of the octopus goodness, but hesitated, for just a moment. His smile faltered, and he took a second to evaluate, his hero instincts shining through. Poison? Intruder? Stalker? However, the mouth-watering smell of his newly-acquired treat pulled him sultrily out of his cautiousness, and Fatgum gave in to the temptation, devouring the takoyaki in mere seconds. He made sure to be careful with the box though. ¨Ill ask Kirishima or Amajiki if they gave me this. Those kids are just the greatest!¨ He bounded out of his office in a rush to excitedly badger at his two son- interns, but he soon found that neither knew what he was talking about. They had just barely entered the agency for the first time since yesterday, so they had no part in this adorable gift Fat had received. Fatgum was slightly put off, but resolved that he would ask everyone at his agency personally, determined to find and thank the angel who gave him this thoughtful present. 

Its been about a month since then. After a week of daily takoyaki, Fatgum was wondering if he´d be destined to live a life of having takoyaki for breakfast when he opened his office door and froze. Fatgum had expected to see that same lavender(he checked) shaded box of goodness, but he was greeted with a rolled up bag sitting on top of a box, but it was a different shade of purple. His seemingly permanent smile grew tenfold and he giddily bounced over to his desk to investigate the new items he had been gifted. He opened the bag first, and took out a cup. Coffee. He was stunned. Not by the fact that his ´secret admirer´ had brought him coffee, nor was it the fact that they could have gotten it wrong. No, he was floored by the logo on the coffee cup. It was the logo of the small cat cafe down the street. Fatgum asks Kirishima and Amajiki to visit there almost everyday, though he insists its just for the coffee. Fatgum went there once to get himself a coffee his two children were busy, and he hasn´t gone back since. Not because the establishment was bad, no it adorable. The pastel color scheme, the friendly felines who endlessly entertained him, even the mere scent of the cafe brings a smile to his face, but for one reason, and one reason only.

You.

You, the one who owned, managed, and staffed the humble cafe all on your own. Fatgum could barely manage to keep professional, for he had no idea where he was supposed to direct his eyes. Your precious attitude, the excitable gleam in your eyes, your contagiously cute giggle, and your blush, oh the blush! Fatgum had told you a joke to ease his own nerves, but the waver in his tone and ok-at-best comedy skills only proved to make him even more anxious. That was, until he heard you laugh. You didn´t just laugh, no, because he had just found your weakness. Simple, honest, puns. You attempted to cover your mouth so you could save your dignity, but resistance was futile when you were hit with such a bad joke from such a cute man. You doubled over in pure, jovial, laughter, and at that moment, you thanked every Greek god that has ever lived that you two were the only ones occupying the shop at that moment. Well, besides all the spectating kittens. You were so caught up in that stupidly funny pun, you failed to notice that you were the only one laughing. 

Fatgum was speechless. Normally, hes the one laughing at his own jokes, but here you were, laughing. Not only that, but your laugh was heavenly. It was music to his ears, and he could hardly stomach the rush of feelings that had hit him. Embarrassment, anxiety, calm, joy, happiness, lo-…

Love? Did he love you?

He wanted to say no immediately, there was no way. But his rushing mind stopped once he heard you snort. You covered your mouth, hoping he hadn´t heard such an embarrassing sound come from you, but it only made you laugh harder, and soon you were snorting with every other breath. He couldn´t breathe. You snort when you laugh too hard??? His head was spinning with every wave of feeling that enveloped him. He felt like he was floating. He was on cloud nine simply from the fact that he could reduce you to giggles and snorts like this. He was so overwhelmed, yet relieved by your reaction. You had bashfully admitted to him that you had trouble opening up to others, and you had found it remarkable how easily he had broken down your walls as if they were nothing more than a breeze. He wondered if this meant he ad a chance. Talking with you was effortless, and brought him a level of joy he had never experienced. It made him wonder what else you two would get up to. His mind flashed with endless scenarios, you appearing in every single one. You on a date, shy smiles and ´accidentally´ bumping into each other every two seconds. You at his house, leaning into his chest as you stuff your faces with popcorn, hypnotized by a movie. You underneath him, your small frame dwarfed by his larger one, breathless and writhing. You in his office, sitting on his lap and snuggling him as he finishes up some paperwork.

He wanted you, with every thing he had. He wanted to have you, have fun with you, do things with you, go places with you. He wanted you childishly, so you two could bounce around the world together with reckless abandon. He wanted you selfishly, to pull you close where everyone could see, so no one would mistake that you were his. He wanted you devilishly, giving you endless kisses and lovebites, just to see you squirm and blush. He wanted you innocently, to sing karaoke at the top of his lungs with you, and do scavenger hunts for your anniversaries. He wanted you longingly, knowing that he could power through the villains, the mountains of paperwork, all of lifes bullshit, just so he could be greeted by your smile, the smile of a tried-and-true angel.

After that day, Fatgum never went back to your store. He knew that if he saw you again, with that illegally cute maid outfit and those entrancing eyes, he would be compelled to get down on one knee and ask for your hand in marriage, which is a level of mortification hes not ready for. The day after his return, he was so stunned by the mark your presence left on his very being that he began to notice that almost everything reminded him of you. The fluffiness of the clouds brought to his mind the cute way the frill on your outfit bounced in excitement. The soft shades of blues and purples at nighttime reminded him of the perfect lighting of your cafe as he passed it late at night. Hell, his assistants cat reminded him of you, and he noted every one of these things for his own sake, but he never realized just how loud he gets when hes in his own head. His muttering got louder and more distracting, to the point that he would daydream at every possible moment, dreamily sighing your name like a mantra. Taishiro Toyomistu, an established pro-hero, a fully functioning adult, had been reverted back to a love-sick teenage boy. It was almost pathetic, yet he made up for by how excited even the mention of you made him. It piqued his interns interests, and they decided to take matters into their own hands.

Amajiki was currently rethinking his entire life. His decisions, his friendships, his entire existence was being heavily reevaluated. How did he let Kirishima talk him into this? His underclassman who he thought was just beginning to understand what boundaries are, had somehow, by some absolutely-mystical-means, convinced him to hide in his mentors cabinet to watch for some mystery person leaving snacks for him. He couldve been training, he couldve been eating, hell, he couldve even been talking with Mirio and Nejire, but no. Here he was, cramped between a shelf and crates of paperwork, staking out someone who he doesnt know, and hoping that he wont have to wait for too long stuck in this position. He was about to adjust himself to leave the cabinet and forget this whole plan, when the office door creaked open, the annoyingly loud squeeeak making the person wince as they continued to open it. Amajiki froze, barely containing his squeak of fear as he watched in awe as the door opened but...n-no one was there???

Amajiki blinked, wondering if was just a stray breeze, or some ghostly apparition, which brought tears of terror to his precious eyes from the mere thought. He blinked his tears away hastily, and looked back to reassure himself that no one was there, and even if they were, they were probably friendly. Or, at the very least, he could overpower anyone with relative ease, but he choked on his own reassurance. One second, there was no one, the next, there was you. You, the girl from the cafe, had just appeared out of thin air! You were the one leaving the snacks for Fatgum! Amajiki gawked as you set down the periwinkle box of cupcakes, along with the bag that contained his mentors coffee, brewed to perfection and made with so much love that he could feel it from his hiding spot. He stayed as still as possible, silently spectating as you arranged the snacks neatly while humming a sweet tune, as if you were in the comfort of your own home. You decided that you had adjusted the box by .1% enough times, and you smiled warmly at the box, before jumping at the sound of Fatgum's voice, laughing joyously at something while steadily getting closer to the office you both were in. You panicked and ran behind the door, closing it fully before he got too close, so as not to seem suspicious. Amajiki had blinked only once, and then you were gone again, and Fatgum had opened the door, bringing the operation to a screeching halt. When Amajiki reported back to Kirishima, he realayed back what he had witnessed to an excitable Kirishima, who jumped for joy when he heard that it was you. 

¨I knew it!¨ Kirishima exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. He had guessed beforehand that you were the one leaving such a heart-warming gift for his mentor, and now his next meal was paid for, which he was very happy about.

Fatgum was accompanying Kirishima and Amajiki to his favorite restaurant after a surprisingly peaceful patrol, and they knew they had to tell him then, when they had a peaceful moment to relax. So, they told him.

¨Hey Fat, I just wanted to let you know that…¨ Kirishima started, looking over at Fatgum from his menu, but his sentence was soon forgotten. He, and Amajiki, were staring incredulously at Fatgum, who was currently trying to disappear into his jacket. ¨F-fatgum?¨ Amajiki asked shakily. ¨Whats w-wrong? A-a-are there villains here?!¨ He looked around in alarm, but there were no immediate threats in sight. What had shaken their fearless mentor up so severely? Fatgum simply shook his head, and laid his forehead down on the cool table in hopes of soothing his burning face. Kirishima and Amajiki looked at Fatgum, then to each other in confusion. They both shrugged and went to comfort him when they heard a giggle that caught their attention. Normally that wouldn’t matter at a time like this, but that giggle triggered something in Fatgum and the most obvious shiver went down his spine at the sound. Amajiki, who was across the booth from Fat and Kirishima peered from around his seat to see who it was and gasped. He looked back at Fatgum, then mouthed to Kirishima ¨Its the girl from the cafe!¨ Kirishima gaped, standing up to get a better look. Sure enough, there you were, chatting with a friend who worked the reception booth at the establishment. You were there for your weekly shipment of leftover supplies from the restaurant that you could use for your sweets, but Fatgum didnt know that. All Fatgum could think of is how embarrassing it would be if you saw him cowering like a child in your mere presence. But even then, he couldnt get over how absolutely stunning you looked in casual clothes. He was thoroughly surprised at the fact that you werent already up and married when he met you, because you were simultaneously everything he wanted and needed, and not at all what he was expecting. You were funny, smart, and cute, but he knew there were worlds of things hiding behind your bright eyes. You were perfect. You were everything. You were-

Poke

¨T-Toyom-m-mistu? Ar-are you ok? You seem a b-bit sick or som-something?¨

You were right next to him, poking his arm. You were blushing almost as fiercely as him, for multiple reasons. 1. you were right next to someone who instantly caught your heart in his excessively large hands as soon as you met him, and you were poking him. 2. His two interns were staring you down so intensely that you began to wonder if you ever should have walked over in the first place. and 3. is he sick or not?!? You just wanted to make sure hes ok, and maybe kinda possibly ask him why he hasnt visited the shop in a while. But it doesnt seem like thats gonna happen. You kept your voice down because you knew that if a commotion happened that you would actually be sick from fright, but you couldnt help the worry that bubbled in your gut at the sight of him.

On the other hand, Fatgum was just about ready to fucking combust. He wanted to look up, he wanted to see your soft, caring features and the look of concern that was undoubtedly on your face, but he knew impulse would  overtake him. He barely managed to keep from making a fool of himself in front of you and everyone who knew him, and he felt backed into a corner. His mind was racing, and he couldnt even feel his heart beating anymore. His breath was getting heavy, but he barely noticed it. He was driving himself mad, slowly devolving into a panic that he didnt know was enveloping him, nor did he know how to get out of it. All he could think of was you, how disgusted you would be by him if he proposed to you, how you would walk away from him if he said the wrong thing. He wanted you, but he cant have you, and he doesn't know what to-

¨Taishiro!¨ you exclaimed, no longer worried about making a scene. You wrenched his head up from the table and pressed his forehead against yours. He stared wordlessly at you, his thoughts going silent for just a moment, and that was all you needed. ¨Taishiro, look at me, ok? You're ok. I've got you.¨ You spoke softly to him, phrases that you're soothing voice spoke to him. Things he could only imagine from his wildest dreams. His breathing slowed as he slowly came back to his senses, forgetting all about his panic in favor of taking in you. He made no effort to move, because he was completely content on being this close to you forever. He was astonished by you, how you could calm his mind and steal his heart all at once, but the thing he couldnt draw away from was your eyes. They held no pity, however in it's place was the light of experience. You held him not because you pitied him, but because you knew his fear, and wanted to take it away, if only for a moment. He couldnt help but tear up at the genuineness in your gaze, the gaze that you never broke, not even for a second. You had grabbed his arm as he sunk, pulling him back up, and encouraging him to let you help him. You knew what it felt like to be stuck with no one to help, so you told him to relax, let himself be helped just this once, all without any words. All you needed was to look into his eyes and he could understand everything you tried so desperately to convey to him for months. You lost control of your filter as you soothed him, letting slip how much you missed him and his goofy smile, and how undeniably happy he made you. You brought him onto his feet and carried him up, and as you unknowingly whispered "That was when I knew that I loved you", he could see the bright glowing light that enveloped you. You really were an angel. He could see your halo, your soft wings, but overall he saw your heavenly smile, one that begged him to respond, as you were losing confidence at an alarming rate. At that moment, he broke into the brightest, cutest, and dorkiest grin you had ever witnessed, and it melted your heart all over again. He leaped up in a flash, and before you knew it, he had you bridalstyle in his arms with dizzying speed. You squealed in fear, but relaxed as you saw him gaze down at you lovingly. You smiled back shyly, and buried your face in his chest when you could hear the restaurant goers cheering at the display, He carried you out of the restaurant in a valiant display, and his remark as you both exited made the cheers of the onlookers sound deafening, and it drove your blush all the way down to your ears in shock.

¨Hey sweetcheeks, we should get married!¨

~End~

I hope you enjoyed it! It took me about three days to finish, cause online school, but this was awesome. I legitimately love this one, and this probably the only one I've finished and was satisfied with. If you like it, pls let me know cause I already adore this, and I wanna share with the world, no matter how scary it might be. Anyways, this has gotten long, so I'm gonna bounce. Gotta start the next one. Bye-bye!💜

[imaginedisish]

Take On Me (Otis Milburn x Reader) (Sex Education)

A/N: THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE OMG. OKAY UMMMM THANK YOU FOR 300 FOLLOWERS. I KINDA CRIED BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL SO AMAZING. ANYWAY...here’s some smut :) hehehehe! This was SUPER requested. The title is based on the Aha song of the same name. My friends tell me I look like the girl who dances to this song in that vine...so if you ever wanna know what I look like, I kinda look like her??? ANYWAY... I hope you alllll enjoy :) Thank you for all the love and support <3 xxxxx (oh and Colin Ritman smut is up next LOL BYE)

Summary: You and Otis decide that it’s time to take things to the next step in your relationship....for the first time...SMUT!

Warnings: SMUT. SMUT. SMUT. language...fluff...yeppers. 

Word Count: 2,124

Also...I made a part two that I’ll link here!

You walk down the road, your hand in his, giggling, talking about anything and everything that comes to your mind. Your yellow sundress sways in the wind, a smile plastered across your face.

“I mean you’re lying if you say you wouldn’t kill to go back to 1979 and see Joy Division live!” Otis says, his ocean eyes glowing in the moonlight. You stare into them, drowning wave after wave. 

“Well sure, but what about Lou and Bowie?” You say back, arching a brow in Otis’s direction. He nods, agreeing. “You rather see Joy Division, don’t you?” You ask, laughing a bit. You knew when Otis was holding something back from you. You could see it in his eyes, or simply in the way he held himself. He gets fidgety and restless. 

“O-okay w-well m-maybe. Yes. I’d rather see Joy Division,” Otis says finally, an apologetic smile spreading across his face. 

He was too cute to even care that he disagreed with you. “Oh well,” You say, pausing, throwing your hands up in surrender. “I guess I just have better taste than you.” You giggle loudly. 

“Guess I’ll just have to accept that my girlfriend is far cooler than I ever will be,” Otis says back, throwing his hands up to meet yours, grabbing them softly. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and you hum with pleasure. It was little moments like these that made your heart sing, no matter how innocent or small. 

You two continuing walking, your hand still in his. Otis had been your boyfriend for about two months, but you and he had been friends for much longer. Everything seemed so perfect, except for one thing. 

Sex. 

It wasn’t necessarily taboo in your relationship, you and Otis had talked about it before, but, you were a virgin, and so was he. Obviously, there was no problem with that. But you had both gotten to the point where you genuinely wanted each other. Otis was over his intimacy issues, thanks to you, and you felt like you were ready to take your relationship to the next step. 

You see Otis’s house up a head, the massive, red, Queen Anne style home still vibrant in the dark of night. A few lights are still on inside the house, but it was likely that Otis’s mother had gone to bed. It was late. Stars hang carefully in the night sky, dancing over a round, full moon. The trees sway in the crisp summer wind. Otis stops for a second, taking both your hands in his. 

“Do you want to, m-maybe, c-come inside?” Otis asks nervously, biting his lip. You can’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, yeah I’d like that,” You say, pulling him along the path as you walk forward. He stumbles a bit, tripping over his own feet as he catches up with you. Eventually you two approach the front door. 

Otis puts a finger to his lips, cautioning you to be quiet. You nod your head in response. Otis slowly opens the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. The door creeks loudly, and Otis’s turquoise eyes fling open widely, filling with anxiety. You let out a small giggle, covering your mouth immediately after, trying to suppress your laughter. Normally, sneaking around was “sexy”, but not with Otis. He was so adorable, so cute. 

“Now that’s not fair. My sneaking skills are quite good, ya know,” Otis whispers, a smirk plastered on his face. You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. Then, Otis grabs your hand, pulling you swiftly into the dimly light house. He shuts the door behind you, and guides you up the stairs and into his room. 

You somehow successfully reach Otis’s room without banging into anything, or worse, waking his mother up. He closes the door to his room, and slides the brass lock into place. 

Your eyes gloss over his room. His bed sat in the center of the attic like space, the walls covered in different band posters. You spot a giant Joy Division poster next to his bed, and a The Stranglers poster right next to that. 

On the other side of the room was a bookcase, holding Otis’s extensive collection of records and books. You walk over to the case, scanning to see which records he had. Not to your surprise, the boy had everything from Arcade Fire, to Arctic Monkeys, to the Beatles, to Nirvana.  

The room screamed Otis. It was a perfect personification of his personality, and you loved it. 

Otis smiles at you softly, grabbing your hand again, and walking you over to the bed. He sits down on the edge of the twin mattress, and you sit down next to him. Otis looks deeply into your eyes, his aquamarine gaze filling your stomach with excitement. Your heart flutters in your chest. 

“I know that we’ve been talking a lot about…” Otis trails off. He swallows harshly, his Adam’s apple bopping in his throat. “W-well about sex. If you don’t feel comfortable with this I completely unders-,” 

You cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “I want this, Otis. I really do.”

“A-are you sure?” He asks, arching a brow. 

“Yes, I’m positive.”

Without any hesitation, Otis’s hands come up to cup your cheeks, and he pulls you into a hungry kiss. His tongue brushes against your top lip, asking for permission to enter. You part your lips slightly, as his tongue dances across your teeth, intertwining with your tongue every now and then. You pull apart for a second, trying to catch your breath. 

Otis breathes deeply as his hand brushes against your inner thigh, his eyes refusing to leave yours. You melt under his touch. He slowly moves higher, searching your eyes for permission. You nod your head eagerly in response. 

His hand then makes its way closer to you core, and you whimper in anticipation. Otis slowly pushes your flowing yellow dress up. 

“I know I already asked but I just want to-,”

You cut him off again. “Otis, I want you.” He nods, pushing your dress up farther. His hand slides up your thigh again, reaching towards your heat. His thumb begins to brush against your clit over your panties, getting faster each second. 

A muffled moan escapes your lips. Otis smirks, and stops. You send a disapproving frown in his direction, but to your delight, Otis slowly begins to pull at the hem of your panties. He takes his time as he gets down on the floor, and slips them off your legs. 

You decide it’s time to turn the tables a bit. Your hand reaches across Otis’s thigh as he sits back up on the bed. You begin to palm him through his jeans. 

“F-fuck,” Otis groans loudly. You quickly put a single finger up to his lips, signaling for him to be quiet. His mother is most likely just down the hall, you think to yourself. 

Otis nods, and you continue to palm his shaft through his blue jeans, his erection growing. You slowly unzip his pants, undo his belt and pull down his jeans. You reach down to continue palming him, but he grabs your hand before you can do anything else.

“No. My turn to make you feel good,” Otis says, pushing you down on the bed. You’re shocked at Otis’s sudden confidence, but pleased nonetheless. He pulls your yellow sundress over your head, revealing your lacy bra underneath. 

“My god you're gorgeous.” Heat rises to your cheeks. 

Otis’s hand travels across your chest, down your stomach, finally resting on your heat. He begins to play with your clit again, circling the spot slowly with his thumb. 

“O-otis,” You call out, your eyes falling shut, a fire beginning to burn in the pit of your stomach. 

“Do you like that?” Otis asks, rubbing faster now. You open your eyes, nodding your head up and down eagerly. 

“Y-yes,” You mutter. You had touched yourself before, but this felt so much different. It felt amazing. Suddenly, you feel Otis’s finger slide over your wet opening. He looks to you for permission once again. “Y-yes please.” He does as you say, sliding a finger into your opening. 

“Tell me what feels good, and what doesn’t,” Otis says, his eyes wide with concern. 

“H-holy shit,” You cry out, pleasure washing over you. Otis shushes you politely, a smirk stretching across his face. “Th-this f-feels r-really g-good.”

The feeling of Otis’s finger filling you up, and his thumb toying with your clit begins to become overwhelming. You were seconds away from coming, and you knew it. 

“O-otis, I think I’m going t-to,” You stutter as Otis picks up his pace, inserting another finger, the sensation itself practically sending you over the edge. He thrusts become even faster. In, out, in out, in out.  

“Shuuuush, let go love,” Otis coos. Your walls flutter around his fingers. 

“F-fuck! Otis!” You shout, coming around his fingers. Otis lessens his pace, and pulls out of you. “M-my god that was a-amazing.” You laugh, pulling Otis closer to you. “I want you, Otis. I need you.” Otis’s jaw drops. He quickly reaches over to the nightstand next to him, grabbing a condom from the drawer. He unwraps the packaging, slowly slipping the condom over his hard cock.

You hurriedly pull off his shirt, kissing him passionately at any chance you get. You yank down Otis’s boxers, revealing his hard member. Otis takes his erected cock into his hand, looking to your eyes one more time for permission. You nod your head in response as he lines himself up with your entrance. 

Suddenly, Otis’s cock fills pushes through your folds and inside of you. 

“Oh sh-shit,” Otis mutters, burying his head in your neck, and then pushing himself up again. 

“H-holy f-fuck,” You cry out, tears rushing to your eyes. You knew it would feel different than fingering yourself, or how Otis had just fingered you, but this was different than what you expected. It hurt, but just for a second. After some time, the pain began to subside. Otis waits a minute, making sure you’ve adjusted to his size. 

“A-are you alright?” Otis asks, brushing your cheek with his hand. 

“Y-yes,” You mutter. 

“Are you sure. We can stop if you don’t want to go any further,” Otis says, his voice kind and reassuring. 

“No, I want this. I want you,” You say back to him, passion in your eyes. Otis nods, and begins to thrust in and out of you gently. The pain erases itself, and is replaced by total and utter pleasure. “F-fuck Otis.”

“(Y/N),” Otis hums as he quickens his pace. His cock was hard. It felt so good. “M-my g-god you’re so f-fucking wet,” Otis coos. His words alone could make you come. 

Otis’s hand reaches down to your clit, and he begins to toy with it again. You dig your fingernails into his back, practically ready to scream in pleasure as he draws circles at your heat. Otis begins to lose his rhythm, his thrusts becoming extremely sloppy.

“I’m, I’m g-going to c-come,” Otis cries out shakily as a fire pools in your lower abdomen. 

“M-me too,” You breath heavily. Your walls tighten around Otis’s pulsating cock. “Otis!” You cry out, coming around him. 

“Oh-oh fuck,” Otis moans, letting go, thrusting deeply into you one last time.

Otis pulls out of your opening, crashing down on the bed, next to you. You lay there for some time, not saying anything, just enjoying each other’s company.

“That was…” You trail off. “Absolutely perfect.” You turn on your side to face Otis. He’s beaming with joy. He reaches a hand to your face, pushing the hair out of your eyes. 

“Yeah, just like you,” He smirks, wrapping his arms around you and pulling the covers over you two. 

“I love you, Otis,” You whisper into his ear. 

“I love you, (Y/N),” Otis murmurs. Your eyes flutter closed, and open again, becoming heavy with sleep. You press your face into Otis’s chest, pressing kisses there. 

“You know you aren’t just some guy in the corner, right? You’re special. You’re so fucking special,” You say, looking up to him. His diamond eyes meet your gaze. 

“And you know you’re more important and more beautiful than every star in the galaxy, right?” You smile against his chest, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. 

You really did love that boy, far more than words could ever say.  

Far more than anything else. 

[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

[dr-gloom]

Year After Year (It’s The Same Routine)

Day 13! (I wish it was Friday the 13th omgp) This is for @sanderssidesspook‘s Spook Month!

Prompt: Friday the 13th

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Paring: LAMP/CALM

Words: 1,203

Summary: Patton loves many things, but Friday the 13th is not one of them. 

Tags/Warnings: superstition, cute poly boyos, Patt’s not all that into religion because lots of ppl use it as an excuse to hurt others, but he doesn’t have a problem with ppl being religious, cute phone contact names

Enjoy!

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@hungry-red-panda

Patton loved Halloween, and October, and black cats, and children’s Halloween movies, and candy, and-

Patton loved a lot of things.

One of these things, however, was definitely not Friday the 13th. Patton had always been very superstitious, even going out of his way to avoid cracks in the sidewalk so he wouldn’t break his poor mother’s back! Needless to say, he did not like Friday the 13th. At all. It was especially bad if it was in October, and this year it was! He’d already decided that he’d stay inside all day, not use the stove or oven, and stay to the couch as much as possible.

It was only Monday.

Patton had sent a text through the group chat to let his boyfriends know that he wasn’t going to be available on Friday, due to his plans to not leave the couch for anything short of a life-or-death situation. It had taken 45 seconds for the texts to come pouring in; Logan’s confusion and exasperation, Roman’s promises to slay any threat that may befall them, and Virgil’s slightly-sarcastic support and kneedling.

Patton tried to reassure them, telling them that it was okay, he just didn’t want to risk anything. Logan assured Patton that superstition held no standing in the real world, and that scientifically, most - if not all - superstition was improbable or impossible. Patton knew that, but there was just something about it that resonated with him, and despite what others said he would always believe it. Just like religious people believed in God, despite most of them not able to tell you where The Big Man even was.

Rosen Bridge: Patton, religion and superstition are not the same thing.

Patt-ernal Love: I mean… They are???

Patt-ernal Love: Religion is based on old books that people just kind of assume have to be true just because other people wrote the same thing

Patt-ernal Love: And I get that! But that doesnt mean the stuff theyre writing about is right, or that were interpreting it right

Storm Cloud <3: can we not do the religion thing today pls

Roman Empire: i promise my love, i shall protect you from any and all harm!

Patt-ernal Love: I know you would, baby

Patt-ernal Love: But I still dont think its a good idea

Storm Cloud <3: then y dont we just come ovr

Storm Cloud <3: movie night

Storm Cloud <3: sleepover

Storm Cloud <3: watevr

Roman Empire: magnificent idea, johnny wept!

Storm Cloud <3: 2/10

Storm Cloud <3: poor presentation

Rosen Bridge: Roman, Virgil, please. We are adults.

Storm Cloud <3: try again

Storm Cloud <3: wow logan way to cut a guy off thats totally not rude

Rosen Bridge: I do apologize, Virgil, but you were both getting off-topic.

Roman Empire: right! i think a sleepover is a terrific idea!

Patt-ernal Love: Yeah! Lets do it!

Storm Cloud <3: so wat r we doing

Storm Cloud <3: coming ovr thursday night or

Patt-ernal Love: Sure!  

The conversation continued for another twenty minutes like that, the four men planning their Thursday/Friday hangout until Virgil had to go to class and Logan had to get back to work. Patton figured he should probably head to school too and pocketed his phone, grabbing his keys and leaving his apartment.

The rest of his week passed by both achingly slow and too fast, and before Patton knew it, it was Thursday. He got through his classes with jittery legs and ecstatic smiles, heading home in the early afternoon and rushing around to get his apartment cleaned. He knew Logan and Virgil were going to be early at the very least. Logan because he liked to be punctual, and Virgil because he was always anxious about being late to anything so he set alarms on his phone for at least thirty minutes before he really had to leave. Patton had just sat down when the doorbell rang, and he hopped up to his feet to answer it. He opened the door with a smile, the smile growing when he saw Virgil on the other side with a backpack slung over his shoulder, gripping one of the straps. He gives a lazy wave with his other hand, smiling just slightly.

“Hey, Pat.”

Patton throws himself at Virgil, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Virgil stumbles, surprised, and awkwardly pats Patton’s back. “P-Pat… Can’t breathe…” He wheezes. Patton lets go, smiling sheepishly. “Oh, sorry Virge!” Virgil shrugs it off and enters the apartment, sitting on the couch. Patton joins him, and Virgil almost immediately cuddles close, worming under Patton’s arm. He doesn’t mind; he loves cuddling with his boyfriends! He kisses the top of Virgil’s head and puts on Scary Godmother.

Logan came not too long after, Patton letting him in with the same smile and bone-crushing hug that he’d given Virgil. He pulled Logan into their cuddle pile, Virgil now sandwiched between two of his boyfriends (not that he was complaining). The three cuddled together for the next hour until Roman showed up, letting himself into the apartment with a flourish and confidently striding into the living room. He flops onto the couch, throwing himself across the others’ laps. Patton cards his hands through Roman’s hair. Logan gently massages Roman’s calves. Virgil rests his arms on Roman’s back.

Once Scary Godmother was over, Patton got up (with much complaining from Roman and Virgil) and made them all some popcorn, handing each person their own bowl and sitting back down. The next few hours passed like this, with the men watching Halloween movies and chatting or commenting on the movies. Virgil is the first one to fall asleep, head resting on Logan’s shoulder and mouth slightly open. The others make sure to speak quietly and turn down the volume on the TV so they don’t wake him, and it isn’t long until Patton is asleep as well, his hand stilling in Roman’s hair.

Roman looks up at Logan, who’s staring at the TV without really paying attention to it. Roman whispers, “What’re you thinking about, Specs?” Logan looks over at him, blinking tiredly.

“I am simply confused as to why people believe their actions hold a direct causation to something as unprovable as ‘luck’.” Roman blinks, smiling. “Well you don’t need to understand it to support him. I don’t get it either, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s ‘our happy-pappy-Patton’.” He says with a smirk. Logan smiles slightly and nods. “I suppose you are right. Perhaps we should get some sleep, it is rather late.”

Roman nods, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off and falling asleep soon after.

The next day, Patton wakes up surrounded by his boyfriends. The four of them have a quiet breakfast indoors, then settle in the living room for more movies and a gaming marathon (read: Mario Kart), broken up by lunch and snacks. Nothing at all substantial or scary happened - unless you count Roman shrieking when he entered the kitchen to find Virgil sitting on top of the fridge - and the day passed with little fanfare, just like any other day Patton spent with his boyfriends.

He guessed he could learn to love Friday the 13th too.

[cannibaldeerdoe]

Romance is dead.

"She is probably using him." Was the first sentence out of his mouth.  It had slipped out as he starred blankly into his latte as it swirled casually around the espresso and whipped cream in the cup. His friends, Audrey and Stella, Both had their jaws a gap.

To which Darnell simply shrugged nonchalantly, sipping coolly at his drink.

He glanced left, then right at both of his dear friends. A bored expression plastered on his face before he set his drink down, the sleeves of his dark over sized hoodie shuffling over his knuckles as the drink was set.

Darnell had short cut black hair, thick curls at the ends near his neck where he felt he may need to get a haircut sometime in the near future. Long bangs pushed out of his eyes as green eyes took in the shocked expressions of his friends once more before deciding to finally speak up.

"What?" He stated so plainly, " I was pretty sure you were use to this by now. " He stated plainly.

The girl's had been gossiping about a college campus romance unfolding. They had seemed like the most typical couple in the world, boy meets girl, they start doing casual stuff around campus, holding hands, walking to class, ect, ect. Darnell has seen this sort of thing at least a dozen or so times before.

It always ended the same. Heart break. Either after a month or two they faded apart, or one cheats on the other, or the other gets dissatisfied by the fact they only want such and such items. Petty stuff that was enough to ruin anyones mood.

This time though, The guy had left a bouquet of flowers on her desk with a note. She later came back with a red blush on her face.

He had apparently surprised her with some sweets in her locker next, ending with a request to an amusement park. after only a year of dating it seemed he finally proposed. She had yet to give her answer yet. Though, according to his friends, she was a fool to say no to such a romantic gesture.

"No. Dont you see? He obviously figured out she was the perfect fit for him. " Stated Audrey, resting her chin on her palm as she stuck out her puffy lips. Her perfect dark skin seeming to meld well with the lighting drifting in through the window they were seated beside.

"You typically need a few years and living together to know that"

"Maybe he just knew, y'know, like a soul mate or something. " Stated his other friend, Stella stated, her brunettes' locks hanging low as he rested her elbow on the counter. Her gold hooped earrings shinning as they interacted with the sun hitting the table.

"No, See, Here's how things will play out. They rush into this marriage, and after a year pop out some children. They arent prepared or ready for kids so that causes tension. They find out their views on raising kids is vastly different and they dont coordinate well. They divorce, wondering why they were ever in love in the first place. " He began to take a sip at his drink. Humming casually.

"Its so simple. Heard it a dozen times before. There is no such thing as love or romance not in the real world. " They both stared at him, their brown and blue eyes glaring  him down before Audrey broke the silence.

"Yeah, Well, I hope you stay single forever with that sort of attitude!" To such an accusation, the group laughed. Cheerful fun having presented itself.

The group soon decided to depart, standing and walking down the street, the busy city gleaming and bustling with life.

Short lived romance, People arguing, Artists, dancers, office workers. It was just everyday life in this beautiful city. A city of small drama and comfortable living for young people.

It was perfect for beginnings and amazing for endings. Only issue was a lot of the time it was placed in that cold hard, cough syrup flavored reality.

They chattered and Darnell once more found himself laughing.

He had sworn he would stay single forever, because, to him romance was just something he enjoyed reading about in his spare time. It wasnt something that was real. It wasnt something that lasted. Just like his own parents. When he was a kid, they argued non-stop while swearing they were once in love.

To Darnell, Love was a spark that eventually faded. Love that lasted was usually just that. A fairy tale. One he figured he would enjoy avoiding at al cost.

Darnell paused, spotting in a window pane a book he had been in desperate need of and been eagerly awaiting the release of the next volume!

He could hardly contain such excitement, Pausing to stare into the window that showed the new released.

"I didnt even get the notification! "He exclaimed, waving hurriedly to his friends. They looked at eachother before turning to continue to walk.

"We can just meet you later." Stated Stella,

"How a romance nerd like you doesnt believe in real romance is such a god damn mystery to me."

The bell chimed delightfully and slightly annoyingly as he hurriedly opened the door to the bookshop.

Rushing over to the bookshelf behind the window case and searching frantically for where the volume might be located.

"Can I help you?" Stated a smooth voice almost like caramel from behind him.

Darnell's shoulders slumped some, he hated social interactions with  strangers. He had already guessed a read on his personality before even turning to face him. Gorgeous and surrounded by women at all peaks of the hours.

"Im just looking for the book that was released in this series. "He hardly bothered to look the man in the eye.

There was an audible hum from the man as he answered Darnell's query.

"I havent quite gotten around to putting them on the shelf yet. The copies are actually still in a box just over there. I just finished with the display a few minutes ago before being dragged off by my manager." He chuckled softly, his voice sounding almost as sickeningly radiant as the bell that chimed when he strode in.

"Well why bother setting up the display if they arent--"Darnell was about to go off on this guy, who care's if he is good looking?! Yet, when his green eyes met with this guy's almost brown his heart seemed to skip. As though it were waking from a cold damp slumber and stretched its feathered wings.

What. The. Fuck. Oh no, you go back to being dead right this instant!

He swallowed, rolling his eyes and trying to look more disgruntled than what he actually was.

"Just give me the damn copy. "

He demanded, which was promptly met with a chuckle, a smile. And him bending over to reveal even better of a view.

Yeah. He was asking for heart break with this guy. Last thing he needed in his life was more heart break.

He plopped the heady hardcopy into Darnell's hands. His eyes seemed to gleam as he held his most recent favorite romance novel. It was glorious! It was just as great as everything written about it in the forums!

He slouched back into his normal mood, His lip stuck out as he avoided eye contact and held the book tightly to his chest.

"Thanks."

"No problem, I can check you out as well if you'd like. It looks like your friends may have come back for you after all." He chuckled again, waving politely to the two girls standing outside.

Why were they just watching the whole scene? Were they expecting something from all this?!

He bought his book and went about his day. His friends teasing him that the guy back there was right up his alley in every way, shape and form!

"Did you get his name?"

"Did you get his number...?"

" His names Bryan. No, Why would I even bother?" They continued their taunts. Although they all stopped suddenly in their steps, the sound of rampant feet clattering towards the group.

They had gone quite a ways from the bookstore now and were on their way home, surprised to find the handsome and bold short haired red head sprinting towards them.

He huffed, changed from his bookstore uniform. He was red in the face a large smile as he tried to play off how awkward it must have looked running towards them.

"I cant--!"He tried to say between gasps for air. "Believe I ran into you again!" He stated exasperated, "I thought about this earlier, I got so excited when I saw you again I thought it might be a good chance!" he began to dig around in his pocket, pulling out his phone.

"I notice you read romance in my mother's store a lot! I thought you might be interested in maybe coming to a book club with me. It's run by my sister. The next reading is 'What blooms in winter' A new romance story that was released by an armature novelist. "

He smiled, directing the phone screen to Darnell in particular.

"I figured I could...Get your number. It's next week. I can even stop by and pick you up by the store?"

In Darnell's mind at that moment he could heart the thrum of his heart, His friends both at a loss for words. That was basically asking for a date. Adding in some lame excuse for how he could get his number.

He rolled his eyes.

His head was screaming for a yes, yes, YES! Though he instead shoved the phone back into the guys hands. "Why in the world would I bother going to something so childish as a book club. "he snarled. Turning sharply on his heel.

"S-Sorry he--" "Stop talking to the creep!" He interrupted, Not wanting to put up with Stella's excuse.

After that, he said good bye to his friends. Hugs and cheers as they departed. He stood there in the hallway. Waiting for everyone to get to their dorms.

He stood in the silence. Looked left. Looked right.

Then he found his legs were moving on their own.

Sprinting as fast, if not faster, than he thought possible down the hallway, bursting through the doors of his apartment, back down that alley way with his sneakers noisily smacking against the loud concrete.

He turned the corner to the empty city street to see a lone man in a dark green and white t-shirt walking with his hands in his pockets.

He looked a bit forlorn to say the least and turned almost at the last minute to view a black haired, skinny pale male moving faster than he had since middle school gym.

He could barely stop, barreling towards the broad-shouldered red head. He stopped just in time before a crash course collision.

Gasping in deep shallow breaths. He couldnt dare try to say words.

They both stood there in awkward silence.

"Are you al--"He was about to ask, though Darnell very quickly grabbed for his phone from his hands. He held his breath as he rushed to type in his number and throw it back into his hands.

He still was quite breathless but now stood up straight, a scowl present on his face and turned back to walk jelly legged back to his apartment. Leaving the man to the empty street once more.

A soft chuckle being heard from him.

[dangoghz]

Write a fic about dan and phil and the babadook

oh god i knew this would happen —-A Ball-Badook by dangoghsWord count: 1850 (i hav no lif)A/N: WH Y,, also dan and phil basically go to a gay ball with the Babadook as their chauffeur/host. Also I have never seen the movie and I dont know whether he actually talks and if he does he probably doesnt have a Russian accent but uh oh well—-When it happened, it was 11:59 pm and Dan and Phil were having cuddles on the couch while watching a Lord of the Rings movie. Phil had his arm around Dan and they were very cozy, with a mound of blankets surrounding them and the faint voice of Gollum yapping about the ring. Phil was leaning in for a quick kiss when the clock struck twelve, and then…something magical happened. The TV turned to static. The windows opened on their own. Their blankets ruffled and the furniture shook.And then they watched as an odd black creature with a top hat flew in. No, not flew in. There was a rainbow going through their window, which it appeared to be walking on as if it was solid. How a rainbow was visible in the middle of the night, neither of the boys knew. The creature stepped off of the rainbow and onto the soft living room carpet. Dan and Phil were shaking more than the furniture was now. What was this thing? How did it get in here?The black creature had a pair of terrifying, round eyes, and a mouth of small teeth that was permanently open. Its hands were spindly and as black as the night sky. “Hyello, children. I am the Babadook.”The Babadook, the Babadook! What a horrific name. Dan quivered in fear and squeezed closer to Phil. “Why are you here?” Phil questioned, always calm, always collected. He was scared, but he wasn’t about to show it.“Do not wurry, my chiyuld. I am here only to delyiver you to my yearly ball.”“What ball?” Phil replied. Dan was clinging to his boyfriend and staring at the Babadook like it was an alien. Which it very well could’ve been, to be honest.“Vell, my yearly Ball-badook, of course! Come, children. Stand up,” the Babadook ordered, waving with its spidery hands. Dan and Phil were in too much shock to disobey it, and they reluctantly disentangled and got up from the soft couch, still holding each other in latched fingers. Suddenly, after the Babadook twitched its hands again, the air became a rainbow prism swirling around the boys. Red and yellow and blue swarmed in all directions, with beautiful sparkles in every corner of the living room.“Danyul, vut is yoor favoreet color?” the Babadook asked.“Uh-uh-black?”“You are lying. I can tell. It is obviously peenk, baby peenk. Color of squooshy baby bottom.”“WHAT? N-no-”“Dan? Is he right? I thought you hated pink,” Phil chimed in. “I-uh-”“Does not matter. Please stand very straight, Daniel, or else this will not vurk.”Dan quickly straightened his back in fear. The Babadook swished its finger and sparks flew deafeningly towards Dan’s torso. Phil’s boyfriend shouted over the roar of the magic, “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” Phil couldn’t see his boyfriend anymore as he was completely enveloped in swirling glitter. “AHHH!”“What are you doing to him? Is he hurt?” Phil demanded the Babadook. If this fugly thing had inflicted even the slightest paper cut on Dan, Phil would grab it by the neck and toss it out the window.“Yolki palki, I am just changing his clothes! He is very weak boy, can’t stand a leetle discomfort!” Changing his clothes? Was this Cinderella or something? Then the sparkles parted with Dan and Phil could see him again. Except, his pajamas were gone, replaced by a lavish pink suit with a bedazzled tie. “There we go!’ Said the Babadook. "You look fabulous!” Dan adjusted his tie, blushing heavily. “Th-thank you? How-” he articulated, but was interrupted by the all-business creature.“Now, you, Pheelip. You like blue, no?”“Yes,” Phil agreed.“Okee.” And then, the magical Babadook did its thing, and there stood Phil in a dapper blue tuxedo. He had a rainbow bow tie about his neck, a foil to Dan’s sparkly. Dan couldn’t look away, because the ensemble matched Phil’s eyes perfectly.“This is amazing! How did you do that? Wait, how do you know our names? For that matter, how did you find our address?” “Eet is secret. Now, we must go, or else you vill be late.” Dan and Phil looked at each other, overwhelmed by this glorious Babadook, but they were curious as to where it would lead them, so they simply follow the Babadook to the magic carpet-like rainbow waiting at the window. It took off the black top hat it had worn on its head and gestured to the rainbow like they were supposed to just step on it. “But how does it work? What if you are tricking us and it’s an illusion and then we will fall and die?” Dan inquired. He squinted at their herald with suspicion. Why would this monster thing deliver them to a ball?“Shut up. You are a gud child, the world tyells me that, but you also very annoyeeng. I like you-”-he flicked a finger at Phil again-“byetter. Daniel, do you want to go to ball or not? Styep onto the rainbow.” Dan surrendered. “Fine!” he huffed, and stepped on the translucent rainbow carpet that stretched across the sky. Phil hurried after him, and lastly the Babadook came, closing their window behind it. They only had a moment to look out on the London skyline before the rainbow, like it was being pulled in on the other end, rushed away from their apartment building. “WhOAAAA!” Dan and Phil screamed. The Babadook simply stood stoically on the red stripe of the magic ribbon rainbow, and glared at them. “Whiny children. You make a fuss of nothing,” it remarked, leaning onto a metal cane blacker than even its dark hat. Even though the ribbon was moving at lightning speed, the three of them weren’t even wobbling. It was akin to the movement you would experience in a high-tech sideways elevator. In a couple of minutes, the rainbow finally stopped.Dan and Phil looked away from the Babadook and gasped. Rainbow columns and glorious staircases stood all around them. Guests danced dressed as colorfully as the Babadook had wardrobed them. Buffets lined the halls, where bodacious cakes of different pride flag color schemes and pizza for all resided. A disco ball refracted colorful little specks on the walls of a ….. magnificent rainbow palace. “Vyelcome to my house. A haven for everyone in LGBTQ plooss community.”“It’s…beautiful,” Dan murmured, memorizing every inch of it. “Thyenk you. Enjoy the Ball-Badook.” And with that, the Babadook bound away. Dan and Phil were both relieved to be rid of its horrid face and direly unnerved from cluelessness. “Should we…mingle?” suggested Phil. They appeared to know none of the people, and the other guests were very preoccupied with their friends and partners. Dan scrunched his pink-clothed shoulders from intimidation. “I-uh-can we not? If this is only an annual thing, I don’t want to be so preoccupied with meeting new people that I don’t enjoy it with you.” Phil shyly beamed, for he didn’t actually want to talk to the crowd either and because his boyfriend was being cute. “Of course.” With that, he took Dan in his arms and pulled him to the dance floor, where “Love Someone” by The 1975 was playing. Dan was startled with Phil’s spontaneity. How did he amaze him every time?They slow danced for a few songs, bathing in the rainbow reflections and soft atmosphere. The night had been quite wacky so far, but now the couple fekt safe and peaceful. It didn’t do harm that each of them couldn’t stop looking at each other because of their lovely custom outfits. In that moment, they were just in love with no one else in the world, and Phil leaned in for a snog and Dan leaned in too, and their lips were almo-“HEY NOW! YOU’RE AN ALL-STAR!” The tranquility was short-lived, and the calm harmonies of “For Him.” by Troye Sivan were interrupted by All-Star and the Babadook’s wretched voice. Dan and Phil broke apart, shocked. The second time their moment had been interfered with by this thing!“HYELLO MY VUNDERFUL GUESTS! VYELCOME TO THE BALL-BADOOK! IT IS NOW TIME FOR A SHORT DJ SESSION OF MY ALTERNATE PERSONA, DJ DOOK!!” tne Babadook shouted over Smash Mouth. “HYERE IS MY BOYFRIEND, SHREK, THEME SONG! ENJOY OR I WEELL KYILL YOU!”Somehow, Dan and Phil were not surprised that the Babadook and Shrek were lovers. They just grumbled in annoyance for the loud music. How long was the DJ Dook going to play for?“We might as well dance!” Phil yelled, chuckling. He grabbed Dan’s hand and twirled him round. They danced through “I’m a Believer”, “Mambo no. 5”, “Ice Ice Baby”, “Friday”, and “Spooky Scary Skeletons” before they were finally ‘ryick rolled’ by the DJ Dook. As “Never Gonna Give You Up” came to an end, Phil offered to grab them some drinks. Dan applauded the Babadook for a playlist that was simultaneously iconic and irksome. Phil returned shortly with two margarita glasses of a rainbow liquid. The bubbles inside wibbled and wobbled with the faint movements of Phil’s palms. “I’ve never seen this before. What’s it called?” Dan asked.“It’s called 'Liquid Love’. The barwoman said it was crafted by the Bar-Badook, the Babadook’s other persona.”“Uh. Okay. Toast to the Babadook?”“Sure.” They clinked their glasses, making the drinks fizz shimmeringly, and took a gulp each. What they didn’t know was that Liquid Love affected your heart, not other organs. Every emotion in it would be multiplied in power by 666. For Dan and Phil’s hearts, which were already bursting a lot more than the average couple with both love and lust for each other, this was NOT a good idea. “Whoa. I suddenly feel…extra gay. Phil, wanna climb on that chandelier and make out?”“Me TOO! You look like the hottest man on earth right now, Dan. I love your pants. Can i have them? Like now. As well, I comply one hundred percent to your chandelier concept.”——–

When they woke up, it was noon, and the rainbow of the palace had vanished. So were their gorgeous suits. Dan lifted his eyelids first to feel the comfort of blankets and his old couch. Phil was drooling on his chest. “Phil,” he whispered. “Mmmm??” Phil snuggled even closer. “Phil, it’s morning, and I don’t remember anything past when we took those weird drinks. Do you recall?”There was no response, so Dan took a totoro pillow and whacked him with it. “PHIL!”Phil opened his own eyes and looked up at Dan. He yawned adorably and stretched, accidentally hitting Dan in the nose. “Mmm… just that I felt really infatuated with you.”Dan narrowed his eyes playfully. “But aren’t you always, babe?”“Yes, but like extra.”Dan laughed. Suddenly he noticed a pastel rainbow post it stuck onto the couch. Scrawling handwriting in black ink was spurted across it. “You are byest guests I have hyad in a vile. You owe me nyew chandyelier, but eet ok. Sincerely, Babadook.”

[shinthedancer-blog]

Mack The Knife|Chapter 1|Calandra

“Hey! Hey Callie!“

For someone in so dire a situation, Shin’s mood seemed excellent, or at the very least she was excellent at faking it. With how casual her wave was as she headed towards her pal, it really may have felt like she was just enjoying a nice stroll through the small village. Such excellent weather, after all. And such nice scenery.

Calandra’s choice of it had been the duck pond, nicely central, just behind the cottages where they had all made their homes by now, and Shin, having just returned from her dinner (lacklustre as always, in this place), had seen that choice and decided to join her in it.

The smaller girl turned upon her call, only slightly, only enough to see who it was approaching her, and after confirming it to be the dancer, gave that small, soft smile, more like velvet used to smother than to soothe, which Shin took as an invitation, or at least not an open rejection of her company. She covered the distance between them in large strides, and came to a stop next to Calandra.

“Pretty wild stuff, huh? That whole Fool business.”

Her hands were in her pockets, her eyes on the pond in front of them, and her light laugh on her lips. Even with the acknowledgement of their situation, it seemed like it stopped at acknowledging that things had indeed happened, stopping short of taking them seriously.

“How long do ya think they can keep it goin, huh? HPA, I mean. This has gotta be on them, right? Some kinda prank? Or experiment?”

She looked at Calandra, now, out of the corner of her eye. There was amusement sparkling in it, met with Calandra’s usual level of it, but where Shin was merely making warm conversation, Calandra’s words held a coldness to them not directed towards the dancer, but at any who would be in her way- at this point, the so fittingly named Fool.

“Ah, it hardly matters, does it?”

Her voice was a whisper, and a purr. Shin’s smile widened and warmed with affection hearing that tone, the smoky mystery belonging in one of her beloved noirs. Little did she know what lay beneath. But she would learn, and soon.

“My family will not stand for it, and upon their wish, this will all be over. All that stands in their way is knowledge of our fate, my dearest Shin. And that is soon to follow.”

So much revealed so simply. And yet, nothing at all. But Shin didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t information she was after, just conversation. And so instead of other follow up questions, all she gave was a low whistle.

“They must be pretty important, eh? Ya family.”

It wasn’t much of a serious question, and she wasn’t interested in knowing. That was, until she got an answer to it.

“Oh, the Jeggare’s have power of this world and the other. Granted by our dark lord, and by our own machinations.”

Calandra returned her look, now, with as much genuine amusement.

“We run our family business well, Shin, my dear, under my guidance as consigliere. Such guidance that it was deemed deserving of a title.”

Shin froze before the last words had even left her mouth. Her posture, her smile, everything. The moment the word “consigliere” was mentioned, she froze in place, and only unfroze a few moments after Calandra had finished talking, to blink in confusion, to have her smile fall, to struggle visibly with this new information.

“Wait…. Wait…… Hold up….”

A smaller laugh fell from her lips, but one lacking in humor or even the attempt to fake it.

“Thought I heard ya say ya were a…. what was it…. Consigliere, yeah? Like in the movies or….”

She gestured, trying to grasp something invisible in front of her from the looks of it.

“Ya know. Like, in mafia stuff. Not that I’m sayin ya would be part of that. Cause obviously that’d just be impossible, right?”

Her tone wasn’t as light as her choice of words. In fact, it was growing heavier by the second, until her next words, in another world an admittance of insecurity, a desperate search for agreement, sounded more like a threat, a warning against receiving anything but that agreement.

“Right, Callie?”

There was a moment of silence between them, or maybe a minute, it was hard to tell. Then, finally, it broke with Calandra’s simple:

“Oh, dearest Shin…. I thought you had already figured that out, at least?”

And, just like that, it would never be fixed again.

“You’re WHAT?”

The ducks in the pond flapped their wings, loudly declaring their displeasure at Shin’s suddenly loud and not so amused anymore voice.

The dancer herself hardly cared. She had turned to face Calandra head on, fists balled at her sides, her face turned from one of warmth and affection to a grimace of disgust and anger.

“Your family, who you’re workin for- they’re gangsters? The fuckin mafia?!”

This was a level of disgust rarely seen from her. She recoiled, physically, from the girl who moments before had been her friend. Recoiled like one would from a snake. A particularly ugly one.

Calandra watched on in silence as Shin came to terms with the information she had just received, which the dancer did loudly. Loud enough to draw some eyes to them, but she hardly seemed to care.

“The thievin, murderin, kidnappin, god fuckin forsaken MAFIA?! Those fuckin MONSTERS??!”

It was at this point that Calandra’s own smile faltered and fell, her pretty face now in a deep frown, golden eyes sending Shin a glare of the kind that would’ve made the blood freeze in the veins of any human being with less fire in them than her.

“And who are you….”

Her voice wasn’t louder than before, but much colder, and even Shin was stopped momentarily in her rage when met with one that matched hers.

“….To judge me? To judge your saviors? We’ve been kidnapped, fucking kidnapped, and yet you whine and complain about your betters? Complain like a baby. Why, Shin I did not take you for such a sanctimonious fuck!”

The insult, fired with the precision off a poison dart, seemed to bounce right off of Shin’s armor of righteous rage (and obliviousness), but the rest of it did not, and was commented with a disbelieving snort.

“Fuckin saviours? Well sign me up for fuckin damnation if that’s your choice a saviours, then. Man, I thought ya were just really into your style, ya know, dark and gothy and shit, but essentially harmless. Like it’s SUPPOSED ta be! Turns out ya actually are just a fuckin killer bitch! Just a fuckin monster!”

Calandra, now facing Shin head on as well, didn’t skip a beat to reply.

“I am not a monster for doing as my family has done since your own ancestors were living in thatched roof huts!”

“But you are! You ARE, Callie!! Who gives a SHIT how long your family’s been up ta terrible things or how loyal ya think you’re bein, if ya were actually a person worth givin two SHITS about ya would’ve told em off! You woulda left! You woulda done ANYTHIN but WORK for em, what the fuck is WRONG with ya?!”

She was yelling, now, yelling and gesturing, face red with rage. Calandra’s own rage had burned cold until now, but the fire of the dancer seemed to jump over to her, and she responded in kind, though her gestures were more the restrained kind.

“The fuck is wrong with YOU, that you think disloyalty a virtue?! They’ve given me everything! Everything I’ve ever had! I have measured and weighed and NOTHING, NOTHING I could be doing is better than doing my lineage proud!! [May the crows eat your fucking eyes, you bitch! May they fucking scratch them out of your skull while demons feast on your guts!]”

She continued in this manner, but Shin was not to be outyelled, not when she had only just started. If there was one thing she was practiced in (aside from the many, many things she was), it was arguments.

“Do ya hear yaself, like, when ya talk?! The FUCK??! Ya standin here, right now, tellin me that the best thing ya could be doin with ya life is... is murder, and theft, and drug trafficking or whatever the fuck else your familys gotten up to?? doesnt matter how related they are to ya, its WRONG, wrong dont become right just cause its ya pa who does it!”

She took a step back, pushed back her hair, but what looked like a retreat was barely her getting enough breath to continue her assault, now with a new angle, a new realization.

“Cant fuckin believe- and ya live with Natsume, too?? im tellin ya if ya lay one of ya filthy fingers on her, touch even one hair on her head, ill fuckin gut ya like the cops ought ta have done years ago!"

With Calandra yelling her own threats in Italian, and Shin returning the favour in Japanese, the two had drawn the attention of a small audience, but neither of them seemed to care overly much. This was a battle between two parties who weren’t used to losing, and much less likely to accept such loss. More importantly, two parties who had managed to enrage each other to such a point that their argument wasn’t a discussion of ethics. It was a shouting match, just yelling out their anger at each other, and neither would back down.

Finally, it was Calandra who returned to actual arguing, instead of just yelling. But it wasn’t a big step back.

"Ignorant oaf! I don't dirty my hands with the work of soldiers! I make and break kings! And you're just a failed dancer, shall I ask a cousin of mine to break your other leg so you can always be on your high horse? And you can't let Natsume dear make her own choices, can you? Keep her in your shadow forever, and don't let her dance away from you! At least she still can!"

It was this, at last, that made Shin fall silent, her expression changing from outright rage to something else. Whatever it was: shock, disbelief, genuine hurt, it vanished as soon as it had come, turning back into rage. A colder, quieter rage that came with trembling, but not words. She stood straighter than before, her fists balled at her sides, and she glared. Glared silently at her former friend. Whichever part of what Calandra said had done it, she was officially at a loss for words. A chance that Calandra used, her voice now at a normal talking level again. The fire was extinguished, the ice had returned to both of them.

"I needn't hex you. You've failed enough already, haven't you dear?"

What happened next, happened too fast to comprehend while it was. It could only ever be looked back upon later, and even then with surprise.

One moment, things seemed to cool down considerably. The audience may wish, perhaps, that this was all there would be to it, that they would just walk away, and that the tension in the air may not snap after all. But it did, because in the next moment, Calandra’s head flew to the side in a flurry of black hair, the sudden force of impact enough to make her stumble and fall. Shin’s fist, formerly so tightly curled at her side, was the source of that impact- it was clear to see she’d thrown punches before, and that this was one that hurt.

It was hard to believe how quickly things had escalated, how little it had taken to get to this point, but Shin had punched her former friend straight in the face, and from the looks of it she had not been pulling her punches.

As quickly as it had happened it was over, and Shin glared down on Calandra, who was holding her cheek. It was hard to tell whether she was surprised with her hair covering her face as it was, but she didn’t move, and neither did Shin. The world seemed to hold its breath.

Shin was the one to move first, and it was in curt, tense movements. One finger pointing at Calandra, jabbing in her direction to underline her words, her tremble had moved from her body into her voice. Was it right to call the anger in it barely restrained anymore, when she had shown absolutely no restraint during the entire conversation in the first place?

“Fuck. You. I WILL get better! I WILL!! STAY….”

She had gotten back to yelling, and took a moment to steady herself before continuing at a more normal volume, but not a less enraged one.

“…Stay the FUCK away from me and Natsume, you fucking piece of FILTH.”

And with that, she just turned and left, with the same long strides that had gotten her here, fists still balled and blood on her knuckles, a storm on the move that none of those watching dared approach.

Yet, this was only the beginning of the violence that was yet to come.