Where Bastille... Is Imagined

Just a fanfiction blog and Stormer support group | Randomize | Dan | Will | Kyle | Woody | Charlie | Minimagines | fluff | drama | angst | funny | hurt/comfort | Dilfstille

[bastilleisimagined]

Imagine the guys playing Mario Kart

(with Woody deciding to be that guy and picking Rainbow Road)

[bastilleisimagined]

19: kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing ~~~ "Pay attention to meee!" You feel Will paw -- yes, paw -- at your arm, whining like a pup neglected for too long a time. You pay him no attention, instead maintaining your focus on the stacks of files you're filling out. "I need to finish these taxes, Will," you say flatly back to him, flipping a page to the back. You hear Will sigh, and you glance up to find him pouting endearingly at you. Having recently shaved, he's seemed to have aged back a decade. It's adorable. Shaking your head, you return to your paperwork with a frown tugging the sides if your mouth down. It's not like you want to do these when your boyfriend is back for a few precious days before heading off to the second leg of his tour... but between work and study, you've hardly had time to do anything else. And that includes doing your taxes. Your hand stills when you feel strong, warm arms wrap your body from behind, one over your right shoulder and the other under your left. You feel gentle, soft kisses graze over neck, and chills run up your spine. "Will..." you find yourself whispering. Will slowly makes his way to the other side of your neck, nibbling on your ear. "You're always so busy," he mumbles in your ear. Your eyelids droop as he raises his hand to cup your cheek. "Let your hair down when I'm around, won't ya?" You sharply inhale as Will resumes his neck kisses. Usually bushy and just a bit scratchy, you're caught unprepared at how soft his face is against your neck. "I..." you let out a shaky breath as you reach back to touch his bare cheek, "... will finish this section, and then we can do whatever you want, alright?" Will's pauses mid-kiss, contemplating your proposal, before pulling away and ruffling your hair, much to your indignation. "That's good for me!" he grins before turning to the kitchen, a spring in his step. You straighten in your chair, self-consciously clearing your throat. You pick up the pen that had clattered to the ground before returning to the files. Needless to say, focusing became much more difficult. ~~~ willyumfarquarson ~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

Glory

A/N: *Emerges from my cave and months of inactivity* Hey guys. I watched the new music video. so uh... yeah. Enjoy!

"Can I tell you a story?”

You snuggle closer to Dan, smiling at his words. “Of course you can.” You grab the bottle of liquor from him, taking a swig. The liquid burns down your throat, but you relish in the warmth that pools through you.

Dan looks up to the sky, a small smile on his face. “Once upon a time, there was a sweet, innocent boy, and a beautiful, incredible girl.”

You snort in derision. “There’s hardly anything innocent about that boy.”

A dark bar, the air heavy with the scent of old cigars, sweat, old love, lost love, new love. The strands of your pink wig whirl around as you laugh and dance, almost oblivious to the sudden disappearance of your car keys.

Almost.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the thief in the act as he swipes your keys from your table and hurries off outside. Eyes widening in panic and anger, you abandon your partner and wind through the bodies of people to run outside. 

“Hey!” The stranger stops in his tracks. “I saw what you did, bastard. Give them back, now.”

The stranger turns around, and you’re confronted with a lanky man with high cheekbones, wild, dark hair, a somewhat bashful grin, and the darkest, bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. They seem to pierce right through you.

“Oh, these are yours?” He gives an unconvincing laugh. Your scowl deepens, though you take note of the obviously British accent. “Sorry... I was only going to borrow it.” 

You quirk an eyebrow. “Really?” you deadpan, completely unconvinced.

The stranger nods, eyebrows drawing together into a pitiful, earnest look. “My friends and I are racing to see who can get to the Joshua Tree National Park. I... would’ve given it back, promise!”

You know his story is complete bullshit, but you can’t help but smirk all the same. There was something about this guy...

“I’ll drive you there, alright?”

The stranger looks up at you, surprise lighting up in his eyes. “Sorry?”

You cross your arms. Your smirk evens out into a full smile. “I’ll take you to the national park.”

“It’s a ways away.”

“Then let’s road trip. You pay for gas, I get to sleep in the backseat, and we’ll take turns driving. Deal?”

The stranger doesn’t move for a moment, clearly contemplating the plan, before he steps toward you and sticks out his hand. You shake it. 

“Deal.”

“I was only going to borrow it...”

You laugh at Dan’s feeble attempt to defend himself.

“... besides, it’s a shit car anyway. Someone was bound to steal it. You’re lucky it was only me.”

You pout, patting the metal hood you and Dan are lying on. “Excuse me, it’s a classic.”

Dan shakes his head, relinquishing the argument to you. “Right.”

You poke his side. “And what happened, on that trip?”

Dan tilts his head, looking up at the inky black sky. “Oh, the boy and girl started off rocky. It was such a split decision, neither one knew how to act.” He intertwines his fingers with yours, gazing down at it reminiscently. “But then, the girl started talking. About her interests, her dreams, her view of the universe. And slowly, yet surely, the boy started to fall in love.”

You feel yourself start to redden, so you roll your eyes and nudge him playfully with your shoulders. “Really though, what fantastical adventures did these kids go on?”

Dan hums. “Well, there was that time the boy jumped into someone else’s pool with his clothes still on...”

The water is still, quiet and, above all else, cold. Your breath fogs up in front of you, a reminder of the childhood days when your imagination transformed you into a fearsome dragon. The stranger -- Dan, his name is -- tugs on your hand impatiently. “Come on, let’s jump in the water!”

“Dan, you’re still dressed!” Your words are lost behind you as a string of giggles bursts from you. 

Dan looks back with that now-familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay,” you pant out, ripping your hand from his. You look uncertainly at the icy water. “Okay... on the count of three.”

Dan grins and nods. He looks at the water, obviously mentally bracing himself. “One...”

You bend your knees. “Two...”

“Three!” Dan leaps into the water with a yell. The sheet of still water shatters as Dan hits the surface.

Meanwhile, you’re still on dry land, laughing as Dan splutters to the surface, looks around for you, and proceeds to give you the finger when he realises you hadn’t jumped.

You smile fondly at the memory, except...

“It was a lake, not someone’s pool!”

Dan shrugs. “Either way, you lied to me about jumping in together.”

Rather than reply to his accusation, you take another swig of the bottle. “What about that time the guy dared the girl to run through some stranger’s house?”

“I’m getting to that part!” Dan grabs the bottle back indignantly. “Now where was I...”

The car comes to a sudden stop in the middle of a quaint, suburban neighbourhood. You jolt awake from your nap to find the vehicle sitting idle in front of a house. The front door is open, with only the screen door barring the way inside. 

Dan turns to you with a crooked, devilish smile. “I dare you to run through that house.”

You stare back at Dan for a heartbeat before bursting out laughing. “Yeah, sure. Lemme just solicit through and trespass on private property. I might even get lucky and get shot.”

“I’ll drive for the next twelve hours, and I’ll buy you dinner.”

You quirk your brow at that. Now that’s a more intriguing offer. “And I just have to run through, yeah?”

Dan nods.

You tap your chin. “Drop the 12-hour drive, but you have to come with me.”

Dan grins, sticking his hand out. You shake it hard. “Deal.”

You open the door and step out of the car, walking nervously up to the door. A part of you hopes that the handle won’t turn, or that the door would still be locked, but the door opens with ease. You step in, looking cautiously around. You glance back at Dan, beckoning him in before you sprint through the modern-looking house, Dan in tow. You give a squeal when you find two elderly couple on the couch, absolute confusion and panic written all over their faces. 

“Sorry, pardon me!” Dan shouts behind him as you make a beeline for the back door. You hear the old man shout behind you, but you and Dan are already out the door and running back to the front. 

You jump into driver’s seat. “Come on!” 

Dan wrenches the door open the ducks quickly into the passenger side. The wheels squeal loudly as you stomp on the accelerator. The car shoots forward and you glance at the rearview mirror to find the couple running outside. The old man raises his fist angrily at the car, and you and Dan laugh almost maniacally as the adrenaline rushes through you.

“And the old man even had a gun!”

You throw your head back in a loud laugh. “What?!”

Dan looks at you with a serious expression, but you can see the mirth in his eyes. “Yeah, that definitely happened. We could’ve died!”

You scoff playfully. “Yeah, sure.” You snuggle closer to Dan, and you feel his arm hug you protectively. “Remember that dance class? You didn’t even want to try...”

Dan’s face, etched in embarrassment, as he looks at the groups of people in the dance studio milling around. “I’m not sure about this.”

You latch on to his arm, smiling encouragingly at him. “I am. And I’m always right.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Right, I forgot.”

You grin as you pull Dan into the studio. “Come on!”

Dan hum in disagreement. “What are you on about? I totally outdanced you.”

Dan gives his full, toothy smile at you, his eyes practically sparkling despite the relative darkness of the studio. He’s drenched in sweat and his moves are still jerky and awkward, but you lean in to hug him regardless. 

“You were great, Dan,” you tell him. You don’t see his expression, but he gives you an extra squeeze before pulling back. His face has a strange expression on it, but you can’t pin down what it is.

“Thank you.”

“Right, that’s why you’re such a great dancer now.” You laugh as Dan shoves you. Had it not been for his arm, you probably would’ve gone sliding off.

Dan leans his head against yours. “And finally, when the boy and the girl, after so many miles and so many days, reached the national park, the boy revealed his big secret...”

“I actually didn’t have a crazy race with my friends here.”

You roll your eyes, leaning your head on Dan’s shoulders. Both your legs are hung over the edge, swinging carefree over the hundred-foot drop. “I figured when you didn’t even so much as talk about them during the entire trip.” You lift your head to look at Dan. The sunset, with the pink hues, strikes his face and accentuate all of his most special features. The curve of his cheekbones. Each long, sweeping eyelash. The freckles splashed over his nose and below his eyes. A faint breeze ruffles his wild hair. “But tell me. Why did you steal my keys in the first place?”

Dan smiles, looking down at your intertwined fingers. “Well... I wanted to grab your attention. Seeing you dance up on that table, with that bright wig, and those beautiful eyes... I knew I had to grab your attention somehow.”

You laugh, though you can feel yourself blushing. You know the sunset is highlighting your now-rosy cheeks. “That could’ve backfired so hard, though.”

Dan lifts his hand to your face, his thumb trace up and down your cheek as he leans forward. “Maybe, but this has surpassed even my wildest dreams.”

You smile softly back and let your eyes flutter closed. And in that darkness, in that silence, you feel his lips touch yours.

You open your eyes and pull away from Dan’s kiss at a large rumble in the sky. You and Dan look up just in time to see a large jet lift up from the ground. It soars through the air and into the inky night sky.

You snuggle back into Dan’s body. “You tell it differently every time,” you say softly.

Dan returns with his special crooked grin. “Well, I like my version better.”

~~~~~ willyumfarquarson ~~~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

When Dan tilts his head down a little bit so his eyes are looking up and he crooks a side of his mouth up into a suggestive smirk reblog if u agree

[bastilleisimagined]

How Rare, How Beautiful

A/N: i s2g i could not get to sleep last night because i was thinking about space so hard.  i had to get it out. Also does anyone want to play guess the song?

The sand meets your back as you lie down, a mattress of dust and leftover heat. The stars that spread out above reflects in the still waters below.  

It is you and space. There is nothing else, nothing to disturb this. The moon peers down upon its fragile clone in the water, a set of twins. Venus hovers beside it, though it’s not right there, really.  How strange that it is closer than the sun and bigger than the moon, appears to be a mere speck of light.  You are a speck, too. You can understand.

So much inky blackness, so much darkness. And beams of light.  They burn and dance billions of lightyears away from you. It’s possible, not plausible, that some might be dead. Yet they last. They will last until they don’t.

How sad that so few will notice.

Feet crunch against the mattress and you look up to see a new beam of light silhouetted against the inky black darkness. His hair defies gravity and almost disappears into the dark. Stars reflect in his blue eyes, and it occurs to you that this is what the sky would look like if daytime and stars could find common ground.

“It’s beautiful tonight,” he says, his tone hushed. As if his words could shake the stars out of alignment.

“Hey, Dan.”

He smiles at you, a smile that reminds you of a belt of stars. Aligned almost perfectly, not quite.  He comes to sit down next to you, elbows propped on his knees. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Needed to get away.” You gaze up at the sky. You don’t need to look at him. It is a symphony and masterpiece of sounds and sights to stare at the stars and hear his voice.

They go hand-and-hand, Dan and the sky.

“When we all go back to the city, we won’t get this anymore,” he says, voicing the one thing you’ll miss about the lakeside cabin.

“That’s why I’m here,” you reply.

You feel him smile at you.  “Me too.”

Like this vacation, Earth has an end. A point at which you have seen everything, know everything.

Out there, the word “end” does not exist.

“Think about this,” you start, putting your hands against the sky you will never touch, “You know how they say compared to space, we’re all flecks of dust?”

“Yeah.” This infiniteness seems to have stolen Dan’s words.

You point up at the inky black darkness and the beams of light that possibly but not plausibly might be dead. “That’s the real speck. Those stars are just clusters. That’s it. The moon, the stars, Venus and the other planets, the sun, all of it. One sprawling speck of dust.”

“Compared to everything else out there.”

You nod, taking comfort in the feeling of smallness saying this brings you.

Space gives you a lot of strange comforts, you admit.

“Have you ever heard about nebulas? The dragon and the butterfly and God’s eye?” you ask. Now that you look at him, there is a new constellation, and it’s made out of the freckles across his cheeks. The dimples in his cheeks are the tails of comets, bright and deep.

“I have, yeah,” he answers.

“I see those, how perfect they look, how they resemble dragons and butterflies more than anything, and I think: What if the universe is alive?” You’ve always worried that you would sound stupid when you finally decided to voice this.  But, after all, it’s Dan. A sprawling speck of dust himself.

“Alive?” he repeats, as though it’s something worth considering.

“Yeah. Living. Moving. Like us, but not really.  What if it creates all this because it wants someone to see it—but not just see it, more like, know it’s alive and it’s out there and creating all this artwork of stardust to make itself known?”

Dan pours over this. You can hear it in his silence. “That sounds like an excellent explanation.” Then he sighs. “One day, I’d like to make music that sounds like—like the universe. That sounds like space.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but science doesn’t sound like space. If anything could sound like space, it would be music.” You don’t know if you’re making sense, but one look at Dan says it makes sense to him.  And somehow, that’s all that matters.

“Does space ever scare you?” he asks. “We’re never going to see everything that’s out there.”

You cock your head as you assess each twinkling speck in the sky. “That makes me sad,” you say, “but it doesn’t scare me.”

He glances sideways at you, poses another question. “And it’s bigger than anything. The word big just doesn’t go along with space.”

You grin at him. “That comforts me, actually.”

His day-and-star-truce eyes widen. “Really? Now you’re weird.”

Laughing, you poke his side. With a sigh, he reclines onto the sand with you, closer than he was before. A planet inching its way out of its orbit. Chaotic, but there is order and reason behind it, somehow. A simultaneous, extreme opposite.

“Maybe I am.” You shrug, staring into his face. His face of no inky black darkness, only light—the kind that won’t die. Not possible. Not plausible.

“Why does it comfort you?” he asks. “I really want to know.”

“Because there is no end. Doesn’t that mean something good? There are countless possibilities. All contained in this universe that has no room for nothing.” You’re positive that makes no sense at all. It’s not a constellation of a sentence. Each word is its own star out of alignment.

Dan’s face softens in a way that resembles a star twinkling up above.  He rolls over on his side, a planet on a collision course with another. Gravity has warped.

He understands you, knows the name of every star in the galaxy of your voiced thoughts.

You touch the sprawling speck of dust, sweeping your thumb across the constellations, feel the comets in your palm when he smiles.  The day-star-truce pins to your inky black darkness. The planet is pulling you into its own version of gravity.

“You know what’s beautiful?” you ask.

He smiles, waits.

“I think it’s truly beautiful that we even exist.” There are so many stars left in you, but this constellation is perfect. You leave it alone.

His hands are nebulas, of stardust and colour, as they curve around your neck, tugging you closer to his gravity.  The day-star-truce flutters closed, and the planets touch.

It’s just a kiss.  But now your living universes meld into one. His lips are what the core of a star must feel like, hot and untouchable and bursting from its shape. This galaxy is small and insignificant but it is there like all the others, and it consists of two people and their universes, a land of sand below, a world of specks of dust above, and this kiss of stars.

The inky black darkness is in your hands, soft and thick between your fingers.

Then he pulls away, a planet wanting to return to his own orbit.  The universe cannot compare to the no-room-for-nothingness you see on his face.

“I hate to ask,” he says, his hand of stardust and colour against your cheek, “but I want to hear you say all that again. I would’ve written it down, but I forgot a pen.” The planet shrugs and you feel yourself spinning on your axis.

“I’ll tell you everything,” you say, “but I’m not sure I could say it again like that.”

“Nothing is as infinite as words,” he says.  “And I think you’re right.”

“About what?”

“Everything,” he admits, then gets to his feet. Extends a hand. Stardust.  Color. He helps you stand. “But mostly—how beautiful it is to exist.”

Your infinities and constellations are beautiful when he holds them.

“And rare,” you add, and turn towards the speck of dust that is the cabin.  “Rare and beautiful.”

“To me,” he says, “even more rare and beautiful that anything in the universe.”

You shrug. “Maybe. Maybe.”

You walk across the sand towards the cabin. Space behind you, above you, and beside you.

“Next time, we’ll talk about aliens,” you say. When he laughs, you take his hand, letting planets collide, universes forge, galaxies combine. “I mean, you can’t convince me that this universe was meant for just one minuscule group of people.”

“No,” Dan agrees, and when he smiles at you, it crosses your mind that maybe space isn’t as cold as they make it out to be.  “But I’d like to believe the universe was created just to be seen by your eyes.“

~~~~~ Madie ~~~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

I just read almost your entire hurt/Comfort tag. Mostly Dan cause that's my thing but. Wow. That was amazing.

Bro hurt/comfort is my THING. It’s got angst AND a dash of fluff and it’s the best of both worlds.

[bastilleisimagined]

I have a few imagines that I'm working on right now. They're kinda graphic suicide/self harm, and idk if you'd allow that. Also they're in first person, but I can change that. But they are fairly graphic and could undoubtedly be triggering and I was wondering if that would be ok?

Just make sure it's not graphic in terms of death, but other than that just make sure you have huge flashing trigger warnings at the beginning of the story. Second person present tense would be preferred, yes. Thank you!

[bastilleisimagined]

Me, a person with the brownest eyes to ever brown: *always writes the kid in dilfstille Dan fics with blue eyes*

[bastilleisimagined]

can I send a piece I wrote? I wasn't sure if I could so I thought it'd be best to ask first :)

Yeah dude go for it ^^

[bastilleisimagined]

Imagine Dan singing Glory live and doing the puppy eyes as he goes into the solo-vocals part

[bastilleisimagined]

Praying for those baby blues tomorrow

[bastilleisimagined]

Imagine taking a ballroom dancing lesson with Dan and just... no Dan, other foot... Dan you look like you're marching... Sweetie you can't be this bad... Dan just... no

[bastilleisimagined]

Biological

The bedroom is dark and unlit, the walls, once cream, now appearing a navy blue. Moonlight filters through the thick curtains, though it doesn’t do much to brighten the room.

The patter of rain against the window as the storm moves over the city is the only sound that fills the room, besides Kyle’s sharp, ragged breaths. The weather really does represent his mood.

It breaks your heart to see him in such a state, so hurt and troubled, but it fills you slightly with anger. There’s nothing you can do about it – it’s biological, unavoidable. Still, why Kyle?

“Kyle…” you say quietly as your finger traces smooth figure eights on his back. He’s blocked himself away from the world, refusing to speak to anybody. Including you. “Talk to me." 

The answer is the same one you always receive: the same stuffy silence. You hate it just as much as he does.

It’s been three days. Three days since the two of you found out that Kyle is infertile – he’ll never be able to have his own biological children. As a result of this news, Kyle has locked himself in the bedroom and refused everything. He refused to see Will, Dan, and Woody when they came over to talk about the album, and he refuses to even eat.

His body lies still but you can feel him trying not to sob. Every so often his back will tense and his breathing will cease for a second as he tries not to let you hear him cry, but it fails. 

"Ky–" 

"I was so excited,” he rasps quickly, his voice quiet and saturated with sorrow. “I was so, so excited to begin this new part of our lives, this new chapter of a story. Ever since even I was a kid I’ve wanted some of my own. I’ve always loved the idea of holding them, comforting them when they cry, telling them awful dad jokes, reading them bedtime stories, driving them to school the every day. I was looking forward to doing little pranks with them and just… there wasn’t one aspect of being a dad that I didn’t like. I was in love with the idea of being a father–” his speech is cut off by a sharp breath once more and you can only imagine how hard it must be not to just burst into tears. “And when I met you, everything was falling into place. Everything was on the right track, and when we decided we were ready for a family, I was beyond excited…”

As he speaks he slowly turns to face you. Even in the dark, you can see his watery, red eyes and the tear marks that trail down his face. Gently and calmly, you wrap your arms around him, trying to ignore everything in you which tells you to tell him that it’ll all be okay. Sometimes that’s the worst thing to say to someone.

Instead, you sit quietly and listen to what he says. In all honesty, you’re heartbroken too. You couldn’t wait to have kids with him and have a family of your own – and finding this has halted your plans just as much as it did his. Seeing Kyle like this though has broken your heart more times that you want to admit.

“I could see us. You, me, a baby– a family! Happy, going on holiday, going to the park, taking videos as they say their first words, us cooing over their baby pictures when they get older. I was really, really looking forward to it.”

Throughout your relationship, you’ve seen Kyle upset more times than a few… but he’s never done this. He’s never shut himself away and refused everything. It’s terrifying.

You rub his back soothingly. “Kyle, baby. I’m not going to sit here and say that I know, or that I understand, or it’ll get better, but you have to understand that there are alternative options besides from having biological kids.” Kyle’s eyes are shimmery in the fading moonlight, and you hold his hands as you speak. Gently, he runs his thumb over your knuckles. “We can adopt – foster, even. Think of all those kids out there who don’t have homes, who don’t have anyone to call their parents. We can be their parents, Ky. And we can love them just the same." 

Kyle takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second. "I know, but–" 

"And we’ll be a family. It doesn’t matter if your kids are biological or not; they are still your children. They will still be loved, they will still have a home, and we will still be their parents.” You lean in gently and kiss him. “Okay?" 

The man gives your hand a light squeeze. "Okay.”

~~~~~ fanofthebastillelife ~~~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

On The Curb Here With You

Friday night, new bar, no more work. It was the perfect night to just hang out with your buddies and catch up with all the chaos that’s been going on in everyone’s lives. But after a, erm, few drinks, you decide to get some fresh air and step outside. By now you’re buzzing from the alcohol you’ve consumed in the last hour, but you know how to handle yourself. 

When you push the door open and step outside, a gust of fresh air hits you. It’s a nice change from the stuffy pub you just emerged from. Without thinking, you close your eyes and take a deep breath, listening. You hear the muffled sound of people’s chatter from the pub, the sound of the wind as it cuts through the small trees that line the sidewalk. 

It’s a beautiful night, you think to yourself. 

It isn’t until you hear someone clear their throat next to you that you realise you aren’t alone. You duck your head in embarrassment; you’ve just been caught in your little moment and now they probably think you’re some drunk loon.

You slowly open your eyes to see who the person is. To your surprise you find a young guy staring at you intently with the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. His lips carry a small smile.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he says as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Funny, I was just thinking that,” you respond with a small chuckle. He politely smiles at you. You weren’t expecting such a good looking guy. He’s wearing a Twin Peaks t-shirt, black jeans, and a hoodie, which is all topped off with a pair of white Converse. It’s a casual look that he carries well. 

After a moment of silence, he takes a step closer and gives you his hand to shake. “I’m Dan,” he offers. “What were you out here doing?”

You shake his hand, introducing yourself before giving an embarrassed laugh. “I uh, like to close my eyes sometimes when I’m outside and just, I dunno, take in my surroundings,” you explain with an apologetic look. 

His smile widens as his eyes gaze at the light blush spreading across your cheeks. “No no, you don’t have to explain yourself, we all do funny things like that.” His response eases the worry in your gut.

“So what’s your reason for being out here then?” you ask with a curious look.

“I’m supposed to meet my mate here, but it seems he’s running a bit late,” he says as he takes out his phone to check for new messages. None. He puts his phone back in his pocket.  

“And what’s got you out here with me instead of back there with your friends?” His eyes seem to pierce right through you, giving you chills. Did you really just get chills? 

You think about his question for a moment. Why are you out here with a complete stranger and not inside with your friends? You were only supposed to come out for a moment to get some air and then head back inside but instead, you are outside on a cold night having a conversation with a random guy you just met.

“Maybe I like to talk to strangers,” you say, half-teasing, half-challenging. He grins and puts his hands up in fake surrender.

“Hey, technically we aren’t strangers. I’ve told you my name and you told me yours, so we’re basically friends now.” You laugh at his statement, and Dan cocks his head with a contemplative smirk. “Well, at least mild acquaintances.”

Your laughter dies down when you notice the way Dan gazes at you. It’s a critical look, a puncturing look, and you shuffle under it. Instead, you try to ease the tension with a joke:

“What, is there something on my face?” You raise your hand to your face, wiping away any possible marks or lint that shouldn’t be there. 

The look in his eyes remains as he responds with an answer that catches you off guard:

“No, I… it’s just… well, you have a lovely laugh.” 

You feel yourself start to blush even harder, and you shake your head to hide partially behind your curtain of hair. “Do you use that line on all the girls?” you retort, rolling your eyes. 

He shyly looks at his feet. “I’m too socially awkward to even try pickup lines on girls,” he mumbles with a self-deprecating laugh.

You take a good look at him as he stares at his shoes; he really doesn’t seem like the type of guy who picks up chicks at the local pub. Something’s different about him, which makes you want to know him all the more.

“It seems like your mate might be a no show. You’re welcome to come back with me and I can introduce you to my mates.” You nod back at the pub. He checks his phone once again, which hasn’t received any messages since the last time he checked. His gaze moves from his phone to you before he accepts your offer with a sweet smile.

“Alright then let’s go,” you chirp sunnily. You surprise yourself by grabbing his hand and leading him back in the pub toward your mates. 

All the while you try to ignore how perfectly your hand fits in his… 

~~~~~ anonymous ~~~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

Chatty GRWM (plus Kyle!)

You click your camera on and settle yourself on top of your bed. “Sup guys, how’s it hangin’? So I’ve been getting requests for this type of video since I uploaded my ‘Trawl Through Thursday’ last year, and I thought, now that it’s winter and everyone’s makeup and skincare routines are changing, I could show you how mine has changed since last year.”

“What’re you up to?” Kyle interrupts your flow, throwing you off balance as you reach for your cup of tea.

Steadying yourself, you wiggle back into your previous position. “Making a video.”

“Cool, can I sit in?”

You ponder this for a moment; your subscribers know that you’re dating a member of Bastille, and they’ve only seen his face a few times since you both had been seeing each other. Why not give your fans a little treat? “Sure.” You grin, patting the empty space next to you. “Park yourself, and be ready to be used as a shelf.”

He shrugs as he gets himself primed and ready, a large grin plastered on his face.

You continue your vlogging: “Right guys, I got a little treat for you: I have Kyle here with me!”

“Hello!” Kyle grins and waves at the camera.

“He caught me making this video and he wanted to see how I do it.”

Kyle smiled. “Not only that, but it’s a mystery as to how to ‘make your face’, as you like to call it, so now I will be demystified.”

You giggle. “Well then, prepared to be amazed.”

You run through your skincare routine, showing off your chosen items, as well as giving little tidbits of advice. 

Kyle grins, “You said ‘tidbits’.” He manages to work the last word out before cracking up with laughter.

You bite back your own laughter as you soldier through, reaching for your makeup bag. You crumble, howling along with your boyfriend. Getting back to your senses, you wipe away the tears of laughter and readjust yourself before resuming. “Righty-ho, now we move on to the makeup. As you can see, I’ve got none on right now, and I’ve already primed and moisturised.”

“All that to put makeup on?”

You nod. “And I use a setting spray at the end, to keep this all looking fresh while I’m at work all day.”

“Fuck – oh, am I allowed to swear?”

Again, you nod. Kyle continues:

“Fucking hell, that’s crazy. And that’s all just for your makeup?”

“Yup,”

“Which you eventually take off at the end of the day.”

“Yup.”

Kyle pulls you in for a hug and kisses your cheek. “I have a newfound respect for you when we go out on dates because you put so much effort into looking good even though you don’t really need to.” He waves away the pile of makeup. “You’re absolutely stunning and beautiful without all this gunk.”

Your heart melts at his words, so you kiss him back.

As you pop the lid of your lipstick back on, you announce that you’re finished.

“Can you do mine?” Kyle questions.

Your eyes widen and you find yourself smiling. “Can I?”

“You’re like a wizard, so I was wondering if you could do my face up so we’re both matchy-matchy.”

Your smile gets bigger as you grab Kyle’s hand and pull him over to your makeup drawers. “Now, where do you want to start?”

Kyle picks out a berry-red lipstick, a dark eyeshadow palette, your recently purchased cheek palette, and a small highlighting palette.

You both settle yourselves back on the bed before noticing that the camera was still rolling. “We’re back guys, and Kyle has chosen some crackers of my palettes.”

You start off with your own primer, foundation, and concealer, guiding Kyle as he starts off where you finish.

He takes all this new information in his stride, achieving an excellent contour. “Onto the… highlight next?” As you open the little palette, Kyle immediately points the icy blue shimmer. When you give his a questioning look, he replies, “I want to be that icy Let It Go cow from that Disney film.” You laugh your way through the application as Kyle ends up resembling an ethereal being. Next, he chooses the palest blusher and the most shimmery eyeshadow you’ve got.

“How you feeling, love?” you ask.

“Fucking magical.” He smiles, stopping mid-application to kiss your cheek again.

You blush and smile your way through the rest of Kyle’s makeup adventure. “You look absolutely gorgeous, Kyle,”

“Not as gorgeous as you.” He winks, kissing your cheek again, leaving a red lip mark on your cheek as his face glistens as his highlight catches the light.

You turn back to the camera with a winning smile. “Thanks for watching. I’ll leave a link down to Kyle’s social media and a link to Bastille’s latest single in the description box below. I would give those guys a listen, they’re really good.”

Kyle crowds into the camera, grinning as he points enthusiastically at you. “Also subscribe to my wonderful girlfriend’s channel, because she puts a lot of hard work and effort into making this channel what it is.”

You laugh as you retake the camera. “Alright guys, I’ll see you all soon. Stay snazzy.”

~~~~~ @wildbloodstormer ~~~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

Imagine Dan going sleeveless again for Coachella 2017

[bastilleisimagined]

Warmth

It’s been a while, but here is the next chapter to my wild world series. I hope that it’s an enjoyable read :)

Running Late In The Wild World | Did You Know? That the Museum is Pretty at Night

You place the wine glass into your other hand so that you can properly meet Dan’s handshake. His warm palm compliments your apparently cold one. You introduce yourself as your eyes fall upon his, and a sense of security seems to flood your body… is this what they mean by the ‘zing’?

Before your cheeks get the chance to fill up with a ruby red colour, you let go of his hand. Yours almost instantly feels colder – weird.

“It’s so nice to see someone else actually looking around the exhibit!” he exclaims, looking at you with genuine appreciation. You can’t help but smile back at him. “How can you be in here and ignore everything around you? I mean, over there is a T-Rex skull.” His eyes are wide and bright as he gestures around him. You take a sip of your wine and contemplate how this guy is acting like an excited puppy right in front of you. “And there, there is a piece of amber – Jurassic Park was made on this stuff!”

“Yeah, it literally was,” you remark, half-joking. He smiles appreciatively at your joke and you continue: “I’m glad that they didn’t ruin the original with Jurassic World though. I was worried, but they actually pulled it off.”

He nods in appreciation, “I totally agree! I’m not a fan of reboots though, usually.”

“Oh, same! Once things have finished, they should be left alone… Although, I’m kinda excited about the new series of Twin Peaks.” You hold your breath as you look to him to gauge his opinion. Personal dating requirement: Must Like Twin Peaks.

He looks at you in near disbelief before he breaks out into a huge smile. “Twin Peaks?”

“Yeah? The David Lynch TV program?” You’re confused and his goofy smile isn’t helping.

“It is possibly my favourite show – ever!”

“Ever?”

“Ever.”

Ka-ching.

You’re pretty sure that there must be something wrong with this guy. He is certainly good looking, kind hearted, and even into the same cult telly shows as you.

“Well woah! Are you excited about the new series then? I’ve heard some pretty interesting things about it.” You hoped that you sounded as intrigued as you really were, and that your slight monotone didn’t get in the way – although you could feel yourself smiling.

“Yeah! I mean how are they going to deal with Cooper after what happened in the black lodge? And–” 

You notice that he has taken a more relaxed position as he continues to ramble, and his feet aren’t tapping to a silent beat anymore. But you can’t get over his eyes and how they seem to convey every emotion. You are totally falling for this guy that you met literally a moment ago.

“I also have about five possible ideas for what happened to Audrey… which I won’t bore you with right now.” He smiles apologetically at you, looking towards the ground as though annoyed at himself for getting so excited. He picks himself up, looking all around the room, before finally fixing his gaze on you. “Because we are at the natural history museum… and there are dinosaurs literally surrounding us…. and I also thought it would be nice to find out more about you – other than the fact that you have excellent taste in television.”

“Well, thank you.” You move toward the side of the balcony to try your best to hide the fact that you are blushing.

Dan grins, moving so he is stood next to you. He takes a moment to observe the people below before asking you the oh-so-original question: “So what brings you here tonight, work or pleasure?”

“Both? My boss couldn’t make it, so he gave me and my colleague his spare tickets. Nearly didn’t make it here though… cause Netflix.” You finish your sentence with an amused huff and a shake of your head.

Dan started laughing. “Ahh, I wish I could say that I haven’t been in that position before. Where is your colleague then?”

“Will’s down there somewhere. He spotted a couple of people that he really wanted to talk to.” You shrug. “He said that he would try and find me after that, although I’m guessing he could be a while.” Dan gave an appreciative nod, as you turn to look at him, “Anyway, how about you – work or pleasure”.

“Work. I’m writing an article on the event tonight. But I’d had enough of trying to talk to people downstairs, and came up here to look at the exhibit.”

“I think that that was an excellent decision.” You catch Dan grinning at your compliment. “Who are you writing for? A newspaper? Or are you freelance or something like that?”

“I wish I could make it as a freelance journalist, but I don’t know if they exist anymore. I work for Wild World Communications.” 

The sharp shatter of your wine glass on the stone ground hardly registers as your ears start to imitate the sound of a radio lost in frequency. No. He can’t work for them, not someone so cute, so interesting – you knew that there had to be something wrong with him. 

But not this. Your stomach churns, as though someone had just disturbed a hornet’s nest. Your brain starts to fly in a thousand different directions. You wanted to get out of there – no, you need to get out of there. Find Will and get home.

A warm hand places itself on your shoulder. “Are you alright?” 

You turn your head to see Dan in front of you, concern weighing down his eyebrows.

“No. I’m not feeling very well. I need to go home.” You don’t want to look at him, but you catch a moment of contact with his ocean-like eyes, and it nearly kills you inside. But you need to leave.

“What’s wrong?” You shake your head to clear it as you try to walk away, but he starts following you. “Can I call you a taxi?”

You quicken your pace. “Bye Dan.” You hate yourself for what you’re doing, but you feel betrayed. You had opened yourself up to a guy only to find out that he works for the enemy.

As you start your descent, you hear Dan call out your name. This only makes you push forward faster. Your eyes dart around the floor, searching for Will; you don’t want to leave without at least saying goodbye to him.

You eventually catch sight of Will in a conversation with an important but friendly-looking couple. Weaving through the crowds of people, you make it to Will. He turns to look at you, interrupting his conversation. He smiles before introducing you to the couple.

The older lady looks pleased to meet you. “Ah, it’s nice to put a face to a name. Will speaks so fondly of you.” Her husband smiles knowingly at you in agreement.

You give your best attempt at a smile, given that happiness is the last emotion you could feel at that moment. “Oh does he?” Will bows his head in slight embarrassment. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, but I was wondering if you could excuse Will for just a moment.”

“Of course.” The woman bows her head respectfully.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Will assures his old acquaintances.

Will follows you off into a side corridor that’s empty of all people. “Is everything alright?” Will looks at you, concerned.

You don’t feel like telling him about Dan or what happened, so you go with the default. “I’m not feeling very well. I think I’m going to go home.”

“Oh.” He sounds quite deflated; you guess he was looking forward to seeing the exhibit with you. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“No, no. You should stay here.” You don’t feel like putting Will out of his way, but you appreciate the fact that he would cross the city and back just to make sure you got home okay.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, you should stay.”

“Okay, well can I at least get you a taxi?”

“Sure.”

You follow Will’s footsteps as he makes a suitable path out of the crowd. A long row of taxis wait outside of the building and Will walks over to the one at the start of the queue, opening the door for you.

Before you get into the cab, you make sure to give Will a hug goodbye. His large body fills you with warmth and safety.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

 “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You smile at your friend as you get into the taxi.

He closes the door for you, and you roll the window down to say goodbye.

Will bends over to look at you through the window. “Message me when you get back.”

“Will do. Make sure you have a nice night. Look out for the T-Rex!”

He laughs. “Okay, goodnight.”

You roll the window back up, giving Will a wave goodbye. You watch as he makes his way back up the steps to the entrance. You give the taxi driver your address, and as the cab started to pull away, you tried your best to forget what had happened tonight.

~~~~~ anonymous ~~~~~

[bastilleisimagined]

So My Friends Want To Marry

Requested by anon. Thanks dude!

-- Meet me in the garage. I'm in my car.

- Kyle, we’re in the same house. Can't you just come to my room?

-- Please just come here. This is important.

- If it's so important then why can't you just come to me?

-- Please just come here.

You let your phone gently fall onto your bed as a frown sets onto your features about what your best friend wants to speak to you about. Why, of all places, does he want you to go to the garage? Strange... then again, being his best friend for the last fifteen years has told you that Kyle is a little bit strange.

Kyle sits in the car when you reach the garage. His head is in his hands, and you can't help but notice the way his skin is several shades paler than usual. He looks far beyond nervous to speak to you for some strange reason -- and he’s told you everything there is to know about him.

"Is there a particular reason we're holding a secret meeting in your car?" You question him once you settle into the passenger seat of the old, beat-up car. Kyle doesn't even look up at you.

There is a very small hesitation before he speaks. The garage light hanging above the car illuminates the room, but you and Kyle remain in the shadows of the roof. Even so, you can see how nervous he is with the way his hands shake, and how white his knuckles are as he keeps them on the steering wheel. 

"I-I, uh, I have to, to tell you some-something," he stumbles out, only lifting his eyes for a moment to look at the wall dead ahead of him before he squeezes them tightly shut. His voice stutters and stumbles just as it has done since he could talk. It's gotten better over the years, though. When he was a teenager, he could hardly get a word out. "It's real, real important. And I, uh, I figured I'd, I'd tell y-you, the person who kn-knows me best, right?" 

This is where you feel worry begin to bubble in your chest and weigh down in the pit of your stomach as to what it could be -- illness, moving away, anything. As an act of comfort and support, you slip your hand into Kyle's. His thin fingers squeeze yours.

"Go on," you tell him, gliding your thumb delicately over his knuckles. "I'm here for you, no matter what it is."  

Once more, there is a pregnant pause. The car isn't even on, so the engine can't fill the silence.

"I, I met someone," he tells you with a quiet voice, giving you a small glance. Confusion fills you as to why Kyle is telling you this -- it's not like he's never had a girlfriend before.

"Well...Okay? What's her name?" you question, watching as Kyle shakes his head and looks back down.

"No... his name." Kyle corrects you quickly. "I-I-I have a, a boyfriend. A boyfriend."

Oh.

There is another silence, now. You don't know why, but for some reason, you're surprised. Kyle turns to look at you with teary eyes, and his voice cracks as he finally speaks.

"Please don't hate me..." he whispers, a sob threatening to break through his voice. The mere sight of him makes your heart pang.

"I don't hate you, Kyle, of course I don't bloody hate you. Who you love is nobody’s business but your own, and if anyone has a problem with it, then screw them. Your Mum and Dad will be fine with it -- everyone will! They've always said that." You give him a reassuring squeeze of his hand. 

A look of complete relief takes over Kyle's face, the familiar light flushing back into his eyes -- but tears still fall down his face. 

You smile at him. "But... do tell me, is it Will? I always thought you and him had a thing going on," 

Kyle's face twists, "What? No! That's weird, he's one of my best friends... Well, it'd be a bit sexy, actually--" 

"Okay, that has put a picture in my head," you groan, trying to shake the image out of your mind. Kyle laughs at you. "So, your boyfriend. You love him, huh?" 

This time, a love-sick, dreamy smile appears on Kyle's face. It consumes the whole of his face, and for a minute you think he's completely lost himself in his dream world. "I really do. So much. He's so perfect. You'll love him." 

"And he loves you, too?" 

"Well, he tells me so." The grin only widens as Kyle speaks, the dreamy look remaining in his eyes. "I really do love him, though." 

"Then how can I complain? If you love him, and he loves you, then there's nothing I can say. I'm happy for you, Kyle. If you're happy, I'm happy." 

Kyle wraps you up in his arms, holding you tightly. "You're the best best friend I could ever have asked for," he tells you quietly, before moving to turn the car's engine on.

"Where are we going now?" you ask once more, frowning. Kyle just smiles.

"Where do you think?"

~~~~~ fanofthebastillelife ~~~~~