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berrynarrybanana · 4 years ago

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Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you!

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here!

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas.

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty.

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door.

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten.

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin.

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground.

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl.

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.”

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.”

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry.

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella.

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again.

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head.

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted.

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies.

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it.

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.”

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug.

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough.

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug.

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here.

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say.

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard.

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep.

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched.

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame.

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes.

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue.

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips.

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears.

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut.

He was totally fucked for this girl.

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs.

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand.

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew.

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?”

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.”

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked.

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.”

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?”

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-”

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen.

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was.

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings.

He had a crush on Stella.

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her.

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them.

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them.

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing.

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said.

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?”

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked.

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.”

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly.

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.”

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips.

“Why is that?” He asked.

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella.

Stay here with me forever.

Love me.

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind.

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well.

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit.

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!”

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!”

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?”

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back.

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time.

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.”

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide.

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.”

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.”

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching.

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter.

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s.

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!”

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest.

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.”

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.”

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted.

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s.

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.”

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks.

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago.

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off.

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door.

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile.

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest.

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands.

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode.

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo.

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?”

“Gemma-”

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering.

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry.

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead.

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. ��What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.”

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.”

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blouisparadise · 4 years ago

Photo

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list.

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list.

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

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that-little-zebunny · 4 years ago

Text

True Happiness

A/N: Hi there,thank you for requesting this sweet prompt and I’m sorry this took too long to be done. Hope you liked it. ^w^ PS. I had to repost this because tumblr messed up the first post TvT

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader WC: 1,312 Warning: Angst and some fluff

It’s been a while since you got the chance to enjoy the outside for yourself. You’re lucky that your best friend Emma visited home and asked you to go out with her to have coffee and catch up. You had so much fun especially when the two of you went to the places that hold so many memories of your childhood. She was sad to learn that your favorite tree was cut down because it was struck by lightning one stormy night.

“I’ll miss this tree. We used to always stay here don’t we? It shades us so well we can have a refreshing nap every time we get home from school.” She said as she looked at the spot where it used to stand high and proud.

“It was a really sad moment but it’s the safest choice.” You stared at the same spot but remembering a different moment. What you see is a younger version of you and a certain tall and painfully handsome man. His kisses behind the said tree and his beautiful voice and the promises he whispered…

Sighing, you urged Emma to head back to their house as it was getting late.

As you approached Emma’s parent’s house you smiled. You can hear a certain kid's sweet laughter. Well you're glad that you’re not the only one having a great time.

“Oh the kid’s must have a wonderful time too.” she giggled as she opened the door.

With a smile plastered on your face you went in to see your kid. Emma’s mom was nice enough to offer to look after the children as the two of you went out.

“Willy Mum’s back.” You said as you looked around the living room. But it was empty besides some toys scattered around the carpeted floor.

“Hmm maybe they are in the kitchen. You go ahead, I'll just clean up here.” Emma said and you did. As you got near it a voice made you slow down.

It can’t be…

H-he’s here? And Willy is here too!

Heartbeat spiking up you hurriedly went in the kitchen and there he is...the man that had been in your dreams for years, the face you see everytime you close your eyes and when you stare at a certain green eyed boy.

“Mum!!” Willy’s excited voice woke you up from your trance.

“Mum?” Tom asked, looking at William and then at you.

“Yes, she’s my best mum!” Willy said as he wiggled down from the kitchen counter where Tom was holding him secured.

“I-I’m your only mum, sweetheart.”responding with your usual answer whenever he says that phrase but stuttering as you do so. You can feel Tom’s eyes on you as you kiss your kid’s forehead. “How’s your playdate with Lizzy and Sofie?”

“It was fun!” he answered smiling wide.”they fell asleep fast mum, so mister tom is helping me get a snack bitoz my tummy is crying.”

“That’s wonderful. Now go and clean you things so that we can head home.” you told him and he did as you said.

“Willy is yours?” Tom asked, staring at you intensely it made your knees weak.

“Yes…” you answered looking down at your feet. This is one of your worst fears.

“He told me he’s turning five...that means...at that party five years ago...” he looked at you angrily. “You told me nothing happened!” he whispered angrily.

Tom is a smart man. Also if you look at Willy properly it’ll be too obvious.

“I...I couldn't. You can’t even remember what happened the night b-before.” you said, tears starting to fill your eyes. “I was ashamed. It all happened because we are drunk and you are about to head out for another big project, and when I learned I am pregnant I had no courage to react to you, I didn't want to destroy those chances for you Tom...I just can’t.” you look up to see him standing in front of you breathing heavily. His hand went up and you flinched thinking hell hit you. He looked very angry.

“Oh darling...I’ll never hurt you.” He said smoothly as his hand went to pull you towards his warm embrace. “I-I just...I can’t believe this.” putting some space between the two of you he looked at you.

“I’m so sorry.” you said to him sincerely. You hated that so many chances were wasted just because you got scared but you can’t help it. He’s very famous now and respected by many. Turning up suddenly with a belly carrying his kid will surely destroy all the things he worked hard for. You can’t… you couldn't do that to him...You just accepted that William is a gift given to you for the love you can never have.

“Don’t apologize, Y/n. This is harder for you I am certain of it. If you’ll let me though I would love to be a part of his life.” he said, caressing your cheeks making you lean on his touch more as an automatic response. He smiled seeing how things never changed. You’re his sweet angel, time away did not change that.

“I-I tried...I did try to be the best for him so that he won’t look for a father...b-but I don’t think I have the right to deny him that.” you answered as he kissed your knuckles repeatedly saying thank yous. The touch of his soft lips made your face heat up.

“Y/n… I believe this as destiny slapping me with reality.” he said getting down on one knee in front of you. Hands gripping yours tightly. Your breathing hitch as you stare at him. The man you considered as unreachable is now kneeling for you.

“T-thomas...what are you doing?” you asked but he only smiled at you sweetly.

“I-I left you before thinking that I’ll be chasing my dream without realizing I end up leaving it behind...leaving you behind.” he brought your left hands to his lips leaving little kisses on our palm that brought up goosebumps on your body. “Learning about Willy made me realize where my true happiness is...will you accept me back in your life my love? I’m tired of missing you.” he stammered a little as he brought your right hand to his lips doing the same gesture.

“Oh goodness Thomas, it’s what I had dreamed for a long time.” your heart feels like it's going to explode. Tears started to flow from your eyes as you looked at his handsome face that is also wet from his own tears.

“Thank you darling. I love you, I had never stopped loving you. And is it weird that I love Willy so much already? I feel like my heart is about to explode.” he brushed his hands on his curly hair as he giggled before he stared at you intensely and held your cheeks. “I’ve longed to feel your sweet lips, will you let me?” he asked, touching your lips with his thumb. You only nodded closing your eyes. You felt his lips on yours as he kissed you slowly savoring every touch of each other's lips. He was about to deepen it when you both heard a little voice.

“Ewwww.” Willy said, covering his eyes and turning around to run back towards the living room of his grandparent’s house. You and Tom stared a each other shocked before you both ended up laughing hard. Oh poor sweet Willy.

“Are you ready to be introduced to your mini me?” you asked him as he hugged you still laughing.

“Ready as I can be.” he nervously said but he still smiled at you lovingly. “I love you Y/N, thank you for this gift.”

Kissing him quickly you tugged at his arm. It’s time for little William Tobias Hiddleston to meet his father.

-----

Happy reading :) Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated.

#tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston rpf #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fan fiction #tom hiddleston x reader fluff #tom hiddleston x reader angst #dad tom #zephirahnyxwrites #ask request #fan fiction #imagine

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erikalovesss · 5 years ago

Text

New Blurb! (Excerpt)

Author’s note: Well.. not new. Just new to any viewers besides the two people that I’ve bothered for their opinions long enough. I know they’re sick of me 😭.... anyways it’s been a while since I posted any writing. I miss it and I’ve been feeling off. And that ask I got a while ago inspired me. So. Yeah. Here it is. Another random scene “blurb” from my story which has been newly titled, “The Chosen.”

It’s funny cause I’m posting this and you guys have zero context or any understanding of who these characters are and how they relate to each other. And why they’re normal but magical and .... It’s just so much. I hope I get the time... and a break after this surgery I have to have to get back in it and start over. But Idk it’s the end of the semester after all.

SCENE:

Cayla [Cameron + Nyla] Scene - “Being Different” 

Nyla let out a small breath of air and opened glassy eyes. She was alone in her room, back against the wall beside her bed frame. With trembling legs dangling off the edge of her bed, as she glares at the empty bed the opposite side of the room. Her fingers dig into the covers under her legs, palming desperately at the sheets for something grounding in the quiet room. Nyla tries desperately, to stop her body from shaking.

She couldn’t believe that they left her alone.

Upon feeling a whimper threatening to rise, the brunette growls at the air, masking it. Her wolf was jittery and on edge under her skin, mimicking her own distress. The sound of tapping along her window startle her and she glances quickly at the window, stance defensive, then slowly relaxed as she realizes a scrapping tree is making the sound. Goosebumps begin bubbling in her skin as she becomes aware of the cool air streaming through the window.

Nyla plants her feet along the ground and dashes to the window closing it swiftly. And then immediately regrets her decision, as she turns to find the empty room feels more confined than it did before. Nyla closes her eyes, leaving against the windowsill and forces herself to breathe, again.

She was fine. She had to be. She couldn’t not be fine.

Because if she wasn’t… Flashes of punctured flesh and torn clothing appear behind her eyelids. The ringing sound of a gunshot loud, deafening, thrumming against her temple. Then beats of silence follow, And then, screaming. And blood. So much blood. And trembling hands.

Nyla snaps her eyes back open and sits up. And presses the back of her hand to her mouth to hold back a wave of nausea.

The same hands that- Fuck!

She begins pacing at human speed across her floor, growling into the air. Her thoughts were running frantic as she paced quick enough across the carpet of her dorm to wear a hole in the space.

She cursed herself immediately for her train-of-thought and walked towards the door. She couldn’t stay here alone.

But as her hand curled around the door knob to open it she paused. Where would she go?

She thought back to Deigo. Her fingers tightened around the door knob. It was just so ...complicated. She just wanted it to not be...

She wanted...

She needed...

She froze.

Nyla’s stance straightened as her head raised and eyes widened with her realization. And she yanked her door open and she headed out of the room with a newfound determination.

She knew exactly what she needed.

***

Cameron raises his hands over his miniature paper craft creatures. Watched with narrowed eyes as the paper models of a dragon began to shift and his fingers began to tingle.

The tingling increased and swirls of blue swam down his hand in strings. He held his breath and raised up the tip of his index struggling to not break the energy tie, as he puppeteered them.

He desperately tried to contain his excitement as he watches them begin to animate.

Cameron’s jaw clenched as he forced the energy down his arm. He tried to concentrate, but as the blue wings began to flap and the green scales of his mini mermaid began to glimmer, his mind drifted to the thought of another pretty green thing. And before long flashes of vivid fiery emerald orbs glittered in his memory and he couldn’t help but sigh.

And, then yelp as pain took over.

He cursed as his tingling fingers began to burn and lit in blue hued flames and he shook his hand furiously to put out the magical fire. Fuck. Dammit.

Everytime he thought of her. Her dark brown curly hair. Her sexy little smirk. Her eyes that seemed to peel him open by just glancing him...

He closed his eyes and shook his head. He raised his hands again and started again with the energy transfer, watching as his blue strings of magic brought the creatures to life. Even then as they animated, he couldn’t stop thinking of Nyla.

After all that had happened the fact that he couldn’t get his mind off her was insane. He couldn’t even focus on his main Energy Control project.

Surely she didn’t want to be alone right now. Not after everything. Seeing her face after it happened. He didn’t want her ever looking that scared every again. He knew that with all his heart. He wanted to keep her safe. Protect her.

But they were so damn different. Where his idea of breaking the rules was practical jokes and fucking around in class, she was... all in. All the time, all she ever did was run head first into trouble and it killed him all of time. Wondering how the hell he’d live up to the life style she was use to. How he’d protect her. So aggressive and brutish in their animalistic nature. Fucking Martyrs. Wolves were so different. They were so different.

‘But so were his creatures.’

He stared down at the paper crafts on his desk and watched as the mermaid ran her fingers across the new glimmering spikes on the dragon. Watched as the baby creature practically purred and butted his head into sea creatures webbed tiny fingers cause her to titter.

If he could get them to co-exist, then he could win Nyla over. No matter what she said.

He straighten his spine, taking several calming anxious breaths in the mirror and prepared himself.

He could do this. He could convince her they could be together. Sure he could.

Before he could let his anxiety over take his will to try, he headed for the door ripping it open and slamming straight into a haze of frizzy dark brown almost-black hair and big green eyes. Nyla.

He stumbled to a stop and took a large step back in time to see the flustered cheeks and raised knuckle to knock of a Miss Nyla Romero. He couldn’t help the large smile that began to bloom on his face and he opens his mouth to speak,

“Nyla-!” “I was just-“

They spoke at the same time and they both fell silent, with rosy cheeks. The only difference between the two was Cameron’s shy grin that was only growing and the brunette embarrassed scowl that was also growing.

“You.. you were coming to see me?” Cameron finally said after seconds that felt like hours of silence.

“No.” Nyla answered quickly her nose scrunching revealing her obvious lie. She cursed herself as she felt the blush darkening and her face heating as the look on Cameron’s face turned amused.

“Liar.”

“Shut up.”

“Nyla, if you wanted to see me-“ Cameron began smirking. Which quickly fell as he watched Nyla turning on her heels, “I’m leaving!”

Shit.

“Shit shit shit.” Cameron panicked as he watched her begin to leave and he snapped his finger holding her in place. Realizing his mistake the moment he heard her threatening growl.

He let her go immediately and flinched when she turned back to look at him, the look on her face murderous.

“Nyla-“

“Did you just bewitch me in place? Me? You did that to me?” Nyla walked toward him menacingly and he stepped back into the door of his room. “Do I look like Reagan?”

“No!” Cameron wanted to punch himself in face. He couldn’t just pull that shit with Nyla. Him and Reagan had the type of relationship. The type where he could just pull her headfirst into trouble and he just knew she’d forgive him cause he knew she really wanted to actually live on the edge a bit and just needed a friendly shove.

But Nyla wasn’t Reagan. He couldn’t just ... force his hand on Nyla. He knew that. She’d jump right in all on her own.

“No, I don’t think you’re Reagan. I’m sorry I fucked up.” He stumbled in his room and gestured her inside, “Please just stay.”

He held his breathe preparing for her to tell him to fuck himself and letting out a heavy breath of relief when she nodded tersely and stepped inside, as he slowly closed the door beside her.

He stared at the door unable to turn around and fully acknowledge that the one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen was just standing in his room. His mind ran wild thinking of the possibility and he absolutely wanted to smash his skull against the wall.

“What’s this?” He heard Nyla say behind him and he turned to find Nyla leaning over his desk peering closely over his creatures. He pulled her back just fast enough to stop the dragon from blowing a baby bursting air of fire in her face.

Her eyes widened in shock.

The dragon was real?! She watched the small mermaid purse her lips at her and wave her little tail clearly frustrated with Nyla having set off the dragon. She turned back to look at the boy who’s hands still hadn’t removed themselves from her hips.

Just how powerful was this witch?

Cameron laughed sheepishly and pulled back when he realized he was awkwardly feeling up her sides. He rubbed his neck embarrassed and look to side, “Sorry those were just some paper crafts I made in my energy transfer class.”

Nyla’s eyes furrowed as she looked back the creatures on the table. “They seem very much alive for paper mâché.”

Cameron smiled nervously, but widely at her, “Yeah that’s the point of the class. To transfer energies from various levels of magic into different vessels. It’s pretty cool actually. It’s like being a puppet master. But with real living thing. Well after you animate them that is. It actually takes a lot of concentration and you have to focus all the energy in through your arms from your energy core? Think of it sort of like axon in your neurons, it appears in a blue light that sort of tickles and-“

He stops when he sees Nyla smirking at him and realize oh he’s doing that thing where he spits facts and information a mile a minute when he’s nervous.

“Sorry I’m rambling,” He whispered stopping. And she smirked whispering back, “Its kinda cute.”

His eyes widened in shock. Did she just-?

“What?”

She raised a mischievous brow at him that makes his stomach flutter and chest tighten and looks away at another area in the room, not answering his question. He heats up the moment he seems where she’s looking and sees her posturing from one leg to the other.

“Oh! Oh god! I’m a terrible host!” He quickly rushes to the bed, forgetting his own question as he hastily begins straightening it and grabbing the loose clothing still on it. Rolling it into a ball in his hands and shoving in into the hamper in his messy wardrobe which he quickly closes when he seems her watching him. He leans back on it casually ignoring the digging of the metal into his back.

“Nothing to see here! You can sit down actually! I am so sorry.” His lips twist to the side as shuffles embarrassed feeling like a child in front of her, when Nyla has yet to say a word apart from chuckling at him.

He’s surprised when she does walk towards his bed without complaint.

“Cameron relax,” She takes a seat on his now straightened bed and pats the comforter beside her. He rushes to it sitting immediately upon being asked and closed his eyes again think of how much he’s acting like a dog. He opens them to the sound of her giggling and he can’t even be bothered to be embarrassed when he seems the lightening in her jade colored eyes and her soft smile.

“You’re never boring, you know that?” Nyla peers at his for the corner of her eyes still laughing. “Now keep nerding out. Why did you pick a mermaid and dragon? Those are really random choices.”

Cameron laughs finally relaxing as Nyla begins to tease him back, “You want the truth,” he leans forward mysteriously watching as Nyla looks at him head on in anticipation. “I’m really good at Dragon Origami.” He whispered into her ear and doesn’t miss as she rolls her eyes, and tries to force a smile down.

“Cam.”

“Honestly!”

“Cameron!” Nyla laughs in disbelief, “C’mon. You’re a loser, but you’re not that much of a loser.”

“First of all I’m all sorts of loser,” He smiles as he watches her laugh again, wanting the be able to continue to make her look this happy and stressed free forever.

“Second, yeah. I guess you’re sort of right.” He looks at the creatures on the desk. “I don’t know I just, Dragons just represent courage. The chinese think they’re evil creatures but it’s a spiritual magic sense they’re just, strength and balance. People think mermaids are evil too and we don’t know much about them anymore, but there are tales of mermaids promising protection. And mermaids are just messengers for water. And in witch culture, water is... a form of life, and emotions. You know moon and the tides and all that.” He blushes thinking of how much of a nerd he must literally sound like. He continues anyways, cause as he sees her encouraging nod, “I don’t know I guess it’s just sort of cool to bring to life two creatures that are looked at as evil or scary, but really represent such pure things and just.. bring them together. I’m sorry! This is lame, I’m being lame.”

Ignoring him, Nyla stares at the creatures now with newfound eyes, “It is very cool actually.” She tilts her in thought, “But they’re so..” Nyla trails off staring at the creatures.

“Different? Yeah they are. But look at them. Opposites sort of just attract, you know. It’s kinda cool.” He looks at her seeing her already looking at him with unreadable eyes piercing eyes and a line of electricity runs through his core as he continued, “Maybe if we’d stop second guessing relationships cause of their differences, we’d get something really beautiful.”

He pauses for a second before continuing, “Like you.” Cameron smiling as he watches her roll her eyes, “Nice line Casanova.”

He watched her cheeks flush not for the first time that night since she’s come to him and he knows despite her snark what he’s said affected her. He looks as her eyes turn slightly sad and wry soon i. the next moment after a silence lulls the air and he’s reminded that she came looking to his door looking like that. Looking for him. Him.

Not Diego. Not Mackenzie or Reagan. Not even Xavier. She came to him.

He doesn’t want to mess this up.

“Angel,” He stops as she snorts at the pet name. “Why’d your come to see me?” He pauses thinking about his wording and tries again, “Not that I don’t love that you’re here. Is it... Is it what happened? Do you need..? Are you-?“

“I’m fine.” She says cutting him off looking away, but he’s already seen her eyes. Seen the wet vulnerability and his chest aches seeing that. He should’ve never listened to Xavier. Brother or Troop-Leader be damned, Nyla shouldn’t have been alone.

“Tell me the truth Nyla. You can always talk to me you know that.” She continued not to answer looking at her own shaking hands and he just knows. The mission.

He reached his hand out to touch her hesitantly. “Nye?”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” She whispers standing, crossing her arms as if to protect herself.

She couldn’t fake toughness now. Nothing in the world would’ve made him believe it. Not after seeing the vulnerability in her eyes.

He slid hand along her hips to the empty belt loop of her black jeans. He drummed his fingers on her side while her stared up at her earnestly, and then she least expected it her tugged her down.

“Fuck!” Nyla yelps as she’s unexpectedly in his lap. She looks up shocked at a flustered, yet determined Cameron. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know, but I’m doing it,” He glares back at her. The look on Cameron’s always smiling face was one so incredibly amusing Nyla could help her shocked bark of laugher. “Okay thats totally fair,” She said staring at his chest. Her small smile slowly died when she looked up to see his still serious mocha eyes peering at her.

She sighed taking his hands off her hips and toying with the tips of his fingers to avoid looking at him. His grip reversed in her palm and seriously grasped her hand to her attention.

“Nyla. What is it? What did you need?”

Her face was unreadable. To him, anyways. He didn’t think he’d ever know her as well as Diego did and the thought of that made his blood boil and pressure rise in his chest. He wanted to. He wanted to learn every inch of her inside and out. He didn’t want to guess what she was feeling, When she was feeling, he wanted to know. He sighed as she continued to stare down at his hand, not responding. He didn’t think he ever would though. Not from the way things were going.

She looked down at his hand and before he could pull away and apologize for being so forceful as of late, she did something that shocked him. She intertwined their fingers. He gasped as her fingers tightened in his and he brought his hand close to her lips. Not kissing them but putting them close enough that he could feel her softness brushing against his knuckles. His knuckles that were frozen in shock.

He continued to watch as ducked her head in a move so unlike her usual ballsy confidence, her hair blocking her eyes and pillowing her tinted cheeks as she mumbled, “I need you.”

She looked up at him this time with eyes swimming determinedly, looking like a shark ready to eat or challenge his prey, either one, if he said the wrong thing. She didn’t have to worry. He couldn’t seem to make himself speak. He couldn’t form anything anything right now his mouth dry and heart in his throat as beautiful, achingly beautiful green eyes stared him naked, yet again.

She spoke against, this time staring him head on and speaking too clearly for him to mistake what she said.

“I need you, Cameron.”

A/N: I know.. I know... CLIFF HANGER. Lmao not that it matters I don’t know how much any of you guys know what’s going on. But yes. One of my story possible couples had a moment. This is sorta... a very mid story scene. But it’s an integral part of the story that came to my mind that I just wrote. Anywhore, please much like the last one ... I wantttt people to tell me if they liked this. Comment to me and stuff. Private message me. Anon me. Or public message me. Just... idk this was a step I think? Lmao. To post this out there. Or atleast I hope it was. So thoughts? Hate? Love? Confused? Questions? I’m here!!!

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queen-rogah · 5 years ago

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Chasing Dreams - Part 3

A Queen AU Series

Summary: In the year of 1971, a fresh out of college girl like you dreamed to be the best musician/performer you will ever be. You have been performing in a pub since you’re 17, earning a small amount of money through singing in the train station by sun down. Until the time passed, someone saw you singing in your usual corner in that station and little did you know that he will help you change your life to chase your dream as a performer…

Warnings: mild angst (like mild depression and anxiety problems) mild fluff, it’s not that much for this part

Word Count: 3.3k+ words

Note: AND DOUBLE UPDATE OF THIS SERIES SINCE IT’S BEEN SITTING FOR TWO DAYS SO THAT’S WHY I HAVE TO POST IT RN :)

*MASTERLIST*

PART 1 | PART 2

________________________

♡♡♡ PART THREE: “MUSIC FOR THE BROKEN SOUL” ♡♡♡

THREE WEEKS AFTER

Graduation happened a week ago, that was the day that you hated. You have to see most of their faces, those devilish faces that played you in that damn party. You still didn’t told your father about what happened, you just told him that you and Jonathan have this fight, that’s why he caught you drowned in your own tears walking home from the party. You still didn’t talked to Jonathan, he tried giving you a reassuring smile, waving his hand here and there but that won’t help you being so broken to what happened. William was speaking to Maya, eyeing you everytime you walk past them then hear their laughs that you could probably punch their faces in that second. But you didn’t do that, you didn’t defend yourself to them or even ask them why did they do that to you. You didn’t even do anything to them in that night. Through the whole ceremony, you’re still feeling your heart breaks and tears pooling in your eyes. That night supposed to be memorable, since it’s the end of being in college but it just turned upside down. It became wicked to you.

After that graduation week, you worked part time at your father’s pub then down the bakery just blocks away from your street. You still sing to the people going in the pub, still enjoying the music you deliver. And now you have this goal set in your mind, that you have a dream already, is to become a professional musician. That’s why you still sing in the train station by sunset, waiting for the commuters to come and give their change to you, throwing it on your guitar case.

…

THREE MONTHS LATER - OCTOBER 26, 1971

“Hey Dad!,” Your sister Rosalie called from her room as she skipped her way towards the kitchen where you and your Dad are preparing for dinner. “My boyfriend is coming over, mind if you and Y/N…be on your best behavior?.”

“So I can finally meet this boyfriend of yours huh? I hope he’s not like the last one Rosalie.” Dad said while chopping the vegetables. You’re marinating the meat for you to pop it in the oven afterwards.

“Promise. Brian is just…the best Dad, I think he’s the one for me.” Rosalie said in her lovey-dovey tone of her voice.

“And Mom called earlier too,” You spoke, making both of them whip their heads at you, “Saying that she can’t come to dinner again. I miss talking to her while we eat dinner…”

“Oh dear,” Your Dad reassures, holding you in his arms, “She’ll make it up to you. Your mother is just too busy okay?.”

You bite down your lip as you nod your head at him. Rosalie just gave you a small smile before heading out to her room again, probably change her outfit for her boyfriend to show up later. You finished the meat as you put it on a tray then in the oven.

“Okay Dad it’s already sunset, I need to go to the train station. Promise I’ll be home by dinnertime.” You smiled at him, kissing his cheeks goodbye as you head out to the living room. Getting your guitar and putting on your thick jacket. You walk towards the station where you can see Ned who is the ticket holder, rummaging through his desk.

You knocked on his booth as he shot his head to you, giving you a smile, “Y/N! Just in time for your audience to come.”

“Right on it Ned.” You tip your imaginary hat to him before you took a seat to your usual spot, where this old crates laying in this corner as you brought out your guitar, opening the case for the people to put their change on it. You close your eyes as you think of a song, but everytime you think of something, your mind keeps coming back on the incident to that party. Seeing yourself crying and feeling that broken heart. And then suddenly that song you’ve been singing inside the closet before played in your mind as you began strumming your guitar. Opening your eyes, and sigh, singing the first verse.

Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old Sometimes I’d like to quit Nothin’ ever seems to fit Hangin’ around Nothin’ to do but frown Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

The train is approaching. Hearing the faint hiss of smoke coming from that transportation vehicle. Still singing your heart out.

What I’ve got they used to call the blues Nothin’ is really wrong Feelin’ like I don’t belong Walkin’ around Some kind of lonely clown Rainy days and Mondays always get me down

Then the train stops in front of you, seeing the usual people you see, as they walk towards your direction, hearing you sing and smiling down on you. They put their money in your case before leaving this place, you feel your heart is getting a little better to see what you’ve been earning through music. This music is not just for the money of your dreams, it’s for your broken soul too.

Funny, but it seems I always wind up here with you Nice to know somebody loves me Funny, but it seems that it’s the only thing to do Run and find the one who loves me

You thought of Jonathan in the lyrics you just sang, because he’s just the only person that’s been there for you. All your life you shared with him, all the laughter, the sadness, the craziness that happened through your childhood, adolescence and your adult life. You feel sorry to him, because he did nothing wrong. And you just pushed him away, declining his love as your best friend. You thought of a plan in talking to him again, maybe tomorrow…or the next day. You cursed to yourself that you don’t even know what to say to him.

You suck in a breath as you continue singing, looking around if they are still people. And then you saw this man, stepping out of the train, who’s also holding his own guitar case and a shoulder bag. This is just the first time you ever see him go here, and then your eyes trailed over his brown curly hair reaching down his collarbones. He’s wearing this pinstripes suit and a white shirt inside, matching with a dark velvet flares and white kicks. You didn’t noticed yourself staring up at him while singing, because he have this perfect nose and jawline and everything. You just saw his hazel eyes, he looked…good.

You look away from him when he took strides forward but stopped when he saw you here, you looked up at him and gave him a small smile before he gave you the same also. He brought out a paper bill, not a change like people do, as he left the station. You ended your song, counting the money you earned. But you can’t forget that beautiful man offered such a huge amount for a street singer like you. So you still sang a few more songs until the station is empty. You put the money inside the aluminum can from your bag as you fix your guitar in the case again. Saying your goodbyes to Ned before leaving again. You reached your street, to suddenly see Jonathan sitting by himself in their front porch. You mentally debated if you’ll approach him or not, but you still did. Sucking up your inhibitions before walking to him, he noticed you walking towards him but he didn’t said a word, he just watch you put your guitar down and sat beside him.

“So? How are you?.” You firstly asked. He’s quiet today. “Jonathan?.”

“I’m not fine. They’ve been fighting non-stop of who will get me on their sides. My father wants me to come with him in Kensington, but my mother said that she and I will be moving in Brixton. But I don’t want to leave here, West Hampstead have been my home. And I don’t want to lose my friends here, especially you Y/N…” He teared up as he looks away from you, not going to see his waterworks.

This is how he means to much to you, so you tried not to cry as you pull your best friend in a hug, so tight that it can crush him. He chuckles in your gesture as he hugged you back. “It’s your choice if you leave or not. Your parents just wants to know what’s best for you.” You said.

“But I don’t want to leave here. I really don’t want to leave you…” He looks at you. You’re seeing those swollen eyes that are mildly deep, maybe he don’t sleep that easy with his parents fighting like that.

“Then tell them you don’t Jonathan. I don’t want you leave either. You’re my only best friend in my life and I don’t want to lose you too.” You said, seeing him look away again.

Then he faces you again, this time with the small smile you’ve been looking for from him, “I promise I won’t leave this place. For you and for me.” He said.

“I love you Jonathan…” You mumbled as you felt his lungs suck in a huge breath. He pulled you in his arms again and kissed your head.

“I love you too Y/N…”

After talking to Jonathan, you said your goodbyes and see him get inside his house again. You walk back to your house and entered, closing the door behind you. You removed your jacket and put your guitar down as you heard voices from the dining room already. And you heard this different voice that you assume it’s your sister’s boyfriend now. You fixed your hair in a ponytail before heading inside the dining room. Your eyes widened when you see your sister’s boyfriend before you.

“Y/N! You’re here now, c'mon have a seat.” Your Dad called you and pat the vacant chair beside him. Only across Rosalie and the man you are just gazing back in the train station. “Y/N, you have to meet–”

“You?.” Rosalie’s boyfriend spoke as you froze in your spot, looking in those hazel eyes again.

Rosalie furrowed her brows as she eyed you and him, “Have you met each other?.” She asked.

“No, I…uh–” You stammer.

“I saw her singing songs in the train station earlier. She’s good in playing the guitar and singing also. That’s why I gave her a huge tip.” He said. And there you tried to hide your blush in his compliment.

Rosalie chuckles, “Brian here is also a musician himself too. He’s in a band called Smile, and yeah…” She said.

“You’re in Smile?.” You asked him as he faces you again while eating the dinner. “I…love your song Doing Alright.”

Brian grinned at you, “You didn’t tell me your sister listens to us. And thank you, it’s a pleasure for you to like our music.” He said.

“I have no idea also,” Rosalie let out an uncomfortable chuckle. Yeah, you don’t know about that because you don’t care about me. Those words swims in your mind. “By the way, Dad…Brian is staying here for three days because they have a gig here.”

Fuck, now he still have to stay here.

“Sure of course Brian is welcome here! And you should also perform in my pub, if you’d like.” Your father asked him.

“Of course sir, I’ll call the band from home so that they will come up here. Maybe we can perform by tomorrow night?.” Brian said and your father nod his head.

“Sure do son.” He smiles and put his arms on your shoulder. You slowly eat your dinner, never getting your eyes on your sister and him being so in love. Lucky her, she got this man who is a musician and who is in the band you slightly admire. And now all you have to do is sit and stare at him and her.

…

You look over to your clock to see it’s already 11PM while you’re still here writing down your journal for some lyrics in your mind. You start to wonder why your father just invited his band, and that threatens your light in that stage in your father’s pub. All of the people there loves you performing and singing your heart out but now this band is going to steak your limelight by tomorrow night. You felt like you’re not important anymore and you lie down your bed, staring at the ceiling. You’re just important in your mother’s life and in Jonathan’s life. You don’t care about Rosalie and her little boyfriend right now–even though you have a little crush on Brian in the first place–you still don’t care.

You jump in shock when you suddenly heard faint moans and bed creaks from the wall where your headboard is. Knowing that it’s coming from your sister’s room. She knows the walls are fucking thin between your rooms and she doesn’t even care that you’re here, trying to finish your own song or would be sleeping now. You groaned in annoyance as the sound became faster, probably changing their positions. Good thing that your father’s room is in the end of the hallway that’s why he can’t hear anything, only you is the victim.

You closed your journal, throwing it on the edge of your bed and get under the covers, then used your pillow to cover your ears. But it won’t budge, as you still heard their noises. You’re this close in barging inside and be the cockblock to your sister and him, but that would be rude and Rosalie would kill you. So, you walk towards your record player as you played a song, a Hendrix song where you can only hear playing his guitar and his voice on this record. Their noises died down, maybe they are finished. But you still didn’t stop your music.

Purple haze, all in my brain Lately things they don’t seem the same Actin’ funny, but I don’t know why Excuse me while I kiss the sky

Your bang your head in the air, feeling the music and the rhythm of it’s beat. Your slumber faded away as you still write your own song while listening to some other music until it’s already in the middle of the night.

Rosalie and Brian on the other hand just finished their business, she was already sleeping in his arms and he suddenly heard the Hendrix song from next door, hearing from your room. He was lip syncing the lyrics, and also hearing you sing loudly in this late hour. He slowly let go of Rosalie in his arms as he change up, he left the room quietly and sighed deeply. Brian never felt this feeling of a home ever since he left his home and start living with himself. Rosalie was lucky that she’s still with her family. He went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water as he leans against the kitchen counter and then he saw this framed picture on the wall where he see Jimi Hendrix beside a girl. Brian was astonished in this polaroid picture, reading on the handwritten text on the bottom.

Me (Y/N) & My number one inspiration, Hendrix. 1967.

And Brian look over Jimi Hendrix’s signature over the picture. Rosalie’s sister is so young in this picture, so young and lucky to meet her idol that is also his inspiration.

“Admiring the photo?.”

Brian quickly look on his left to see you standing by the doorway, leaning there as you look at him looking at your photograph, “Oh bloody hell…” Brian cursed.

“So? You like Hendrix too?.” You asked, going towards the fridge to get a glass of milk. Brian gulped a bit when he saw a small view of your knickers under that oversized shirt as you bend down from the fridge, Brian shaking his head to get that image away from his head.

“I…uh, yeah. I do.” Brian stammers, scratching the back of his neck. You stood beside you and stare at the picture too. You remember this concert where you and your mother went, and after that performance, you just found the Jimi Hendrix backstage–because your mom’s friend is working as the staff there that’s why you can go backstage–and took this photo with him. You remember being in cloud nine when he signs the photo afterwards and gave you his guitar pick. That was the happiest day of your life.

“I was seventeen at that time, living my best life as a teenager. Not thinking of hard things for my family. Everything is just…good.” You said and move away from him.

Brian was silent beside you, he’s just so speechless. “Hard things…you say?.” He asked you.

“Yeah, sometimes my father would be so down to himself in running the pub business. So I helped him with that, I come up with the idea of bringing real music in that place. We set up a stage there and borrowed some old instruments from our friends and…that’s where the pub became big in that street.” You said, feeling uplifted reminiscent. You want to say that his girlfriend, your hell of a sister Rosalie didn’t think of a single solution for the pub, ever in her life. She’s just going out, meeting friends, be consumed with alcohol through the night. She’s nothing of an older sister to you. But you thought that it’s just to rude to say to her own boyfriend here.

“I’m glad you’ve got to help your father. He’s really a good man, never expecting that he’s just too kind.” Brian chuckles as you smiled, nodding at him.

This is just weird because you’re having a heart to heart conversation with your sister’s boyfriend while it’s already midnight.

“I saw you with a guitar earlier. May I see it?.” You asked out of the blue. Brian put up a smile as he went to the living room, following him to see his guitar case by the couch. He sat down and held the guitar, letting it out to see a beauty before your eyes. You haven’t seen a guitar looking like that. The red color is just…perfect. You sat across him, admiring the looks of his guitar.

“Your guitar is…beautiful.” You whispered.

“Me and my father made it together,” Brian spoke as you surprisingly looked at him. “This guitar is just made from scraps because buying a new guitar is too expensive. So that’s why we made one.”

You grinned, “That’s amazing.”

“It is, as much as you and your father building a stage to perform on too.” He said, never stop smiling at you. He’s just so glad that he found someone like you to talk about music unlike Rosalie. So he guess this is the start of friendship with you.

“I didn’t…introduced myself properly to you earlier,” You rambled and stretch out your hand, “Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Rosalie’s sister.”

Then Brian shake hands with you, “I’m Brian May.” He smiles.

And now, you both didn’t knew this will be the start of something new to you and Brian.

______________________

*TAGLIST:

@luvborhap @ziggymay @lilytalebi

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAGLIST LET ME KNOW :)

#brian may #brian may imagines #brian may x reader #brian may x you #brian may x oc #queen band #queen imagines #queen fic #queen fanfiction #queenrogah's fic

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quitetommy · 6 years ago

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Broken Angel

this is for @whyistomholland‘s writing contest!! i used the song something’s gotta give with harrison! this was originally supposed to be an OCxharrison but i decided against doing that,, i hope you all enjoy!!

Loving you, I thought I couldn’t get no higher. Your November rain could set night on fire, night on fire.

The best boy. The blue-eyed blond boy. The pretty boy. The boy who’s eyes once held so much love for the young girl. He was perfect, everything any lucky girl could ask for. She was sure that he was the one. She was so sure. How can you be so sure of something, it feel so right, and then have it all blow up in your face?

Harrison Osterfield was the definition of the perfect guy. He was so amazing. Everyday after work, he’d ask her how her day was and listen to her stories. And not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He loved her, it was obvious that he genuinely cared about his girl. He supported her hopes and dreams, no matter how ridiculous they were. He stuck around, he was always there for Y/N. He was always there, until he wasn’t.

You see, love doesn’t always come out on top. No, sometimes it can be the thing that breaks us, instead of saving us.

But we could only burn so long. Counterfeit emotions only run skin deep. Know you're lying when you're lying next to me, next to me.

The boy that was once her everything was no longer that guy for her. He had turned into a man that Y/N didn’t recognize. He had changed. He opted to spend the night out at bars rather than with his girl, he never wanted to show her off anymore. He’d freak out if a picture was posted of them somewhere. It was like he was embarrassed of her.

But that couldn’t be it, right? Y/N was the best girlfriend a guy could ask for, right? He was just stressed, tired. Right? Y/N just couldn’t understand how the sweet boy she once knew had disappeared so quickly. He was there one second and gone the next.

How did we get so far gone? I should know by now, you should know by now. We should know by now.

She hardly ever saw the tall blond man. He was always gone, she sat at their shared flat, alone and sad. She couldn’t ever understand how they got so far gone. How had their relationship taken such a turn. In the midst of it all, the only thing that Y/N could ever think was how he used to be such a sweet boy.

Y/N could clearly remember the day it had taken a turn for the worst. It was maybe two or three months ago. It was late, she had been up waiting for the missing boy to walk through the door, just like now. It was well past midnight, the last time the tired girl had looked at the clock it had read Three AM. Y/N wasn’t going to let herself fall asleep though, no, she was going to wait up for the boy. It wasn’t too much longer when the door handle started to jiggle and the door swung open.

In came an off balance, intoxicated boy. His clothes were messed up and wrinkled. His white shirt had noticeably been unbuttoned and then re-buttoned. It was obvious, because whomever tried to do it, mismatched the buttons. His curly hair was obviously broken apart. The curls were no longer married to each other. Y/N could only guess that someone had been running their fingers through her man’s hair.

Once the drunk boy was fully in the poorly lit home, the door shut behind him, Y/N was able to get a better look at him without him seeing her. He had his phone pulled out now, typing to someone, still not seeing his main girl. It was when he took a few gross looking stumbles forward into the light that was coming from the kitchen, that she noticed.

It was right there on his collar, plain as day. The lipstick stain. The poor girl’s heart fell into her stomach as she noticed the next horrible thing; the newly forming hickey.

That was when she had it. Y/N wasn’t going to freak out, she just wanted answers, so she stood up. The shuffling caught Harrison’s attention, causing him to lock his phone quickly and stuff it into his pocket.

“Hi, Haz,” she breathed, heartbroken. The drunk boy smiled sloppily, his body slumping over comfortably. His eyes closed as they settled on his girl, “H-Hi. What are you doing up this-”

Y/N sighed and cut him off, pointing at the sad evidence on his neck. His eyes widened as his whole demeanor changed. His body grew stiff as he stood up straight and put his hand over the love bite. He rubbed it as she asked in a small voice, “What’s that?”

Harrison almost felt guilty. Almost. Her voice only got small like that when she was scared. He knew what he was doing was wrong but he just couldn’t help it. He was having too much fun and if it costed her happiness, then so be it.

He shrugged, sobering up a bit and laughed, “What do ya mean? You don’t remember? Love, you were great.”

It was a lie. As they stood in the poorly lit room, staring at each other, they knew. Harrison was a lying, cheating bastard. Y/N was the angel that had fallen and hit everything in her path, damaging her pureness. The was nothing more to give, she was broken.

Harrison looked away from the girl in front of him, he knew if he kept looking he’d feel it. The guilt. Her big, beautiful, pure eyes were just too much for him, so he pushed passed her and headed to their shared room. It was when his hand met the door handle that he heard it, the cry breaking past her lips. He didn’t stop, he left her and all the things that should’ve been said to save the fallen angel.

Something's gotta give, something's gotta break. But all I do is give and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't. No reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Is a good reason to go.

That was months ago and ever since, she has been broken and everyone’s noticed. She was trying to hard to keep him. The angel was going to give up her last breath to the bastard. She loved him more than she loved herself and that was dangerous. Y/N was fighting a battle with herself and it was obvious that she was losing.

Y/N wasn’t going to leave him. No, she loved him too much to do that. Just because he didn’t want her anymore didn’t mean she didn’t want him. She wasn’t going to stop trying to gain his love again until her love for him died out. She wasn’t sure it ever would, and that was the problem.

She was too good for him and he knew it. The morning after Y/N confronted him, though he was beyond hungover, he remembered the night before. He still wasn’t guilty, and he wouldn’t ever be.

He knew how much she loved him, he knew how to take advantage. And he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to use that to his advantage. If there was anything the broken angel could do for him he asked her to get it done. There were so many things.

“Hey, babe, could you make me some dinner?”

“Y/N, pick up my friends on your way home from work.”

“Y/N, i don’t feel like doing anything today, can you get this list done for me?”

It was all bullshit that could totally be done by the man himself, but Y/N just couldn’t every say no to him. It was the way it was. He knew just how to work her and keep her under his spell. It was exhausting for the young girl, but she couldn’t seem to leave him. She loved him, and this is what love looks like, right? Right?

I have never heard a silence quite so loud. I walk in the room and you don't make a sound, make a sound. You're good at making me feel small. If it doesn't hurt me, why do I still cry? If it didn't kill me, then I'm half alive.

Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew he was taking advantage of her. It was just she didn’t know how to escape his baby blue eyes that always looked to her. The ones that always made it her fault, made it seem like this was love, made her feel small, like nothing.

Y/N would lay awake at night, the blond boy sleeping soundly next to her, replaying the death of her happiness. It was horrible. She would be laying next to the cheater, his arm around her and everytime she shut her eyes, she’d relive it.

Y/N was coming home early from work. It was her birthday and her boss, who was also her best friend, gave her the rest of the day off. She had come home to a new car parked in her spot in the driveway. Y/N just figured it was one of the many new friends Harrison was bringing home.

Y/N had never been more wrong in her life. Upon walking in, she saw it. The heals and the purse and coat on the floor. Her heart literally stopped. Catching your boyfriend cheating and having suspicions are two completely different things.

With her heart in her throat, Y/N walked a slow walk of despair to her room. She had never felt like this, all good things in her body had flown out the window, never to return. Her palms were sweaty and her heart rate accelerated the closer she got to the room. She was outside the room now, the only thing separating her from the truth was a thin piece of wood.

She pushed it open and once her eyes laid on the scene before her, the last bit of pure angelicness died. Y/N was no longer Y/N. Y/N was gone, dead. The gasp that fell past her lips was involuntary, the scene before her too graphic, too heartbreaking. It was her man, in their bed with another woman.

Clothes were thrown about the room and the once pure, white sheets was pulled up to cover both their chests. The door handle fell from her grasp and she stood, unable to move, the picture burned into her mind.

Harrison’s eyes were wide as the unnamed girl next to him cried out in surprise. Harrison sat up a bit, removing himself from the dirty woman. “What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be at work!” There was no guilt, just anger.

Y/N was angry too. After the months of biting her tongue and refusing to let it get to her, she broke. The sight to much, killing the kindness inside of the pretty girl. She screamed, the volume burning her throat, “That’s all you have to say?!” The girl who was cheated of love was practically pulling out her hair. “Harrison! How could you do this to me?! I do everything for you!”

He had just shrugged, sighing, “I’m just havin’ fun, darling.”

How did we get so far gone? I should know by now, you should know by now. We should know by now. Something's gotta give, something's gotta break. But all I do is give and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't. No reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Is a good reason to go

The once angelic girl was dead. She wasn’t ever the same after seeing her man in bed with another. Unfortunately, there was this thing called love. The thing that alters your brain chemistry. The thing that makes it hard to think. So guess what, even after all that, the young girl still loved him. The broken girl was still broken, loving a bastard. It’s gotta break eventually, right? The angel has to break through at some point, right? Right?

I should know by now, you should know by now. I think I'm breaking right now. I should know by now, you should know by now. I think I'm breaking right now. Something's gotta give, something's gotta break. But all I do is give and all you do is take. Something's gotta change, no I know that it won't. No reason to stay, is a good reason to go. Is a good reason to go. Something's gotta give

taglist; @rainbow-marvel @darlintom @yoinksholland

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield angst #harrison osterfield fluff #harry holland #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst #sam holland #sam holland imagine #sam holland fluff #sam holland angst

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afishlearningpoetry · 6 years ago

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Looking Closer at How The Abominable Bride Foreshadowed and Can Be Used to Chronologically Decode Series 4:

Immediately after the midpoint of TAB – the murder of Sir Eustace – Sherlock learns of a Miss Me? message from the murderer attached to the dagger meant to evoke the ghost of Moriarty Sherlock is chasing in his dreams. The truth he doesn’t want to face is that Moriarty is alive and going to return.

Immediately after the midpoint of John’s original plan for series 4 – the murder of Mary Watson – John finds a Miss Me? message attached to the dagger meant to invoke the ghost of Mary that John is trying to hide in his story. The truth he doesn’t want to face is that Mary is alive and already back.

Both messages lead to a case, still left unresolved by the end of series 4, one they have to solve together, and like Sherlock says in TAB, “Sometimes to solve a case, one must first solve another.“

[Continue below the cut for more ➤]

See also: Shout out to @shinka for “Something Borrowed, Something Blue”... 10 Revealing Things From The Six Thatchers That Haunt You Late At Night, 10 Revealing Things From The Lying Detective That Haunt You Late At Night, and 10 Revealing Things From The Final Problem That Haunt You Late At Night. (#tw suicide #tw blood)

Bonus: Me... or you? IOU a Fall:

When Sherlock first starts his dream after hearing the news about Moriarty’s return, his dream takes form around trying to figure out how Moriarty faked his death. But the exact logistics of “how” aren’t very interesting – all it takes is some fake blood, a convincing act and maybe some make up, as Sherlock later realizes what Emelia Ricoletti did – and not really the point. Sherlock doesn’t really need to know how he did it, he needs to know why. And admitting that, transitioning from the guise of rationality to the emotional acceptance of what his return means and how Sherlock can beat him, is one of the main purposes of the episode.

After Sherlock first goes to the morgue and first wonders why the bride did it, he shuts down. He sees the writing of blood on the all, the “You” meant to invoke Ricoletti shouting “You... or me?”, which in Sherlock’s mind is pulling from Moriarty leaving him the IOU apple. One of them was supposed to die on that rooftop. You... or me? But as we see, Ricoletti doesn’t die after her act. It’s a question that reverberates in Sherlock’s mind multiple times. Sherlock’s dream threatens to fall apart right there as he asks “How could he survive?”, but John in his mind pulls him back into focus. It’s always you, John Watson, you keep me right. Then Sherlock doesn’t work on the case for weeks as time passes by.

Sherlock takes a new case concerning Lady Carmichael and Sir Eustace to focus his attention elsewhere after Lestrade calls the unsolved case to his attention, a scenario he’s devised in his mind to try to predict what’s going to happen with John and Mary’s rapidly deteriorating marriage, and it doesn't take long for that train of thought to lead him right back to Moriarty, where this parallel begins.

The three of them, Sherlock, John, and Lestrade, all stand over Sir Eustace’s body shortly after he’s killed as they argue about how it was done. “There is only one suspect with motive and opportunity,” Sherlock says. “They might as well have left a note.” Lestrade points out they did leave a note. That’s what people do, don’t they – leave a note? Leave a note when? Sherlock assumes that the bride did it, but the bride was also presumably attacking Watson at the same time that he was killed halfway across the manor, leading them to argue over could have done it. Sherlock will later realize that Lady Carmichael is the culprit and that’s what he saw when he found her in front of the pool of blood. Right before the bride he’s speaking to takes off the veil and turns out to be Moriarty.

By the time of series 4, Sherlock is putting the lesson he learned into effect by coordinating with John and letting him in on the plan to take Mary down. But because Mary fakes her death, returns to manipulate John, and isolates him, it doesn’t go according to plan. John’s story in series 4 is clearly supposed to only last two episodes. Both of them have character arcs that begin and end in that span of time, unlike any other series in the show. So if we look at his original story only lasting two episodes, Mary’s death coincides exactly with Sir Eustace’s. The next episode John finds the message that Sherlock received after her death.

In this scenario, John’s story this time, John teamed up with Sherlock to stop Mary and it ended with a shootout that claimed Mary’s life. But Mary faked her death and now John is the one who’s being haunted by Mary. The first half of his original story, TST, manages to be mostly stable and consistent within its own rules and logic despite all the details about it that are wrong. Mary’s video messages are an extension of the redemption arc that John invented for her, which means they’re doctored footage.

One of the ways that we’re told that her videos are a lie are the color scheme that John uses in his story. Mary’s videos always have blue in them, no matter what the scene they appear in looks like. As @shinak explains in “Something Borrowed, Something Blue: What Colors In S4 Tell Us About John’s Writing Process”...

Why so much blue?

We know it’s John’s color. We know all the important characters wear it this season. We know it means something. It means that the bluer the scene is, the more the Writer tries to stick with a narrative. It’s where we can most feel the Writer’s presence in the scene. The narrative, in blue, has to be the most Official and Clean possible. This is John trying to stay as faithful as possible to what he wants to sell to the audience on a surface level, even when the subtextual level is packed with unsaid truths.

Blue is a Lie. Blue is Fiction of the highest level. It’s John’s imagination running wild in the context of establishing a story.

In regards to Mary’s videos:

Baker Street when John goes back to see Mycroft and his team is in a more dark orange light, but it is still home and a place of confession once again. Notice how blue the screen is when they all watch Mary’s video.

Contrast between safety and the lie of the color blue. The same blue screen reappears at the end of TFP when Eurus as John’s mirror admits she killed Redbeard. A lie again.

And Mary’s styling:

Notice also her hair, longer and curly. While she still wears some patterned shirts (one with butterflies and the other with flowers), her style switched from feminine to more masculine and casual. Gone are the reds, the pinks and greens. She is all about blue, black, white and grey.

Even in the last video message, which John invents, when John tries to return color to the story and the lighting in the video is warmer, Mary is still in blue. John is still lying to the very end. He and Sherlock themselves are draped in blue in the final shot, connecting the lie about Mary to the lie about the entire ending altogether. Blue is also in John turning Sherlock away with Molly.

John introduces himself seeing the video message after Sherlock has already seen it. It allows truth to leak out for a moment in the post-credit cut, “Go to hell Sherlock”, before it has to be modified. In this version of events, John tells his therapist that he hasn’t reached out to Sherlock and Sherlock hasn’t reached out to him in months. This is explicitly contradicted by the ending of the previous episode; not only did John give Sherlock a note we don’t see, Sherlock went to his house and was turned away by Molly with John’s message.

John isn’t able to let the truth out because Mary is holding him hostage in his own house. On top of everything else, something else that tells us is the use of the color pink and Molly in this scene, per “Something Borrowed, Something Blue”:

This one is subtle. I didn’t notice it at first, but pink is the other color that keeps popping up this season. It’s not as blatant as red but everytime it appears, it shows us a good symbol. It is still John, but a John who can’t escape.

[...]

This is a double: Molly as the Writer tells Sherlock John can’t see him and hands him a note, while wearing under the jumper a white shirt with pink stripes. This season is filled with suicidal tones through Faith, alcohol and drug abuse and the leitmotiv of saving John Watson. The John Prisoner through the Writer is begging for help.

This context is important for knowing how John chooses to write the video message in the mirroring scene.

John, Mrs. Hudson, and Mycroft are in the flat where Mycroft is trying to figure out what triggered Sherlock’s relapse. Mrs. Hudson says, “You want to know what's bothering Sherlock? Easiest thing in the world, anyone can do it.” Mycroft says that he understands Sherlock’s logical side better than anyone else but that’s precisely against the point that Sherlock learned in TAB. In TAB, Mycroft was dying at an increasingly rapid rate within Sherlock’s dream logic, and Sherlock figuring out the “how” wasn’t the point, he needed to learn to be vulnerable with John. It’s about him learning to be more emotional.

This is following one of the things John does; plot points set up in TAB seem to naturally continue in the surface text series 4, which is why they seem convincing, but they’re part a larger lie. Sherlock breaks his vow to Lady Carmichael, then Sherlock breaks his vow to John. John threatens to beat him when Mary is in danger, and then he does after Mary dies. And this is one of the more convincing parts of the unreliable narrative precisely because we did see Sherlock go through an emotional arc in TAB, which allows us to understand the decisions he makes in the true events of series 4, even when John is showing a filtered version of him, but it’s still built on the explicitly wrong premise that John and Sherlock have not reached out to each other. Whatever Sherlock is doing here is in response to the note that John gave him.

Back in TAB, Sherlock continues bickering with Lestrade and John until his mind catches onto what John said before, “About a note, what did you just say?” For all that Sherlock pretends to abhor emotion this episode he’s so upset about Sir Eustace’s death he misses the obvious literal DAGGER sticking out of his chest. It’s not just that Sherlock is afraid to face the truth that Moriarty is back, it’s the wall that he puts up is breaking, even in his dream where he can imagine anything he wants. John is the first one who shows the message to the audience.

That’s why Sherlock is speaking so urgently in this scene, because he’s already aware of what’s coming, and he’s doing all of this in order to protect John without putting him in danger. But not involving him is precisely what’s putting him in danger; not involving him led to the fall, which led to Mary, which led to the wedding and pregnancy, which led to not just Mary killing Sherlock but John and Mary trying to kill each other. This is what leads to the ending, where Sherlock works with John to take down Mary.

Mrs. Hudson, even filtered by John, realizes this much about Sherlock: “He's not about thinking. Not Sherlock. Of course he is. No, no. He's more emotional, isn't he? Unsolved case, shoot the wall! Boom, boom! Unmade breakfast, karate the fridge.” John goes back and forth on this episode on whether or not Sherlock is a sociopath; he calls him a monster, despite part of his mind manifesting as Mary saying, “Yeah, OK, all right, he is. Agh! But he's our monster”, but the issue isn’t really that John thinks Sherlock is not emotional, per se; it’s deeper than that. Sherlock has a mental breakdown, shows up to his therapist’s house, makes a very melodramatic show, and begs for his help and displays a host of emotions the whole time; exhaustion, anger, disgust, fear, vulnerability, callousness.

The issue is that John isn’t sure how much Sherlock values his feelings, or the feelings of other people how much he’s aware of them, and if he would return them, if he’s even capable of returning romantic feelings at all. John watched him shut down Molly at the Christmas party in ASIB before apologizing for being so cold; Sherlock genuinely had no idea felt that strongly because he does try to shut himself out from feeling things and that leads to him being very alone, which often leads to him misreading other people, but he does apologize to her after he realizes his mistake. So for John the issue isn’t that Sherlock is incapable of human emotion, it’s how he treats other people, stemming from his own fear of being rejected. It’s how he talks about Mrs. Hudson in TRF when John thinks she’s in danger, it’s the way he uses John as an experiment in THOB, it’s the way that it’s the way that later in series 4, John invents Eurus and has her do an elaborate test involving a bomb that wasn’t going to go off with Molly again, and Sherlock has to manipulate her into confessing that she loves him and him lying about loving her in order to save her life, like on the subway in TEH. But Sherlock did think that the bomb was going to go off at first; it isn’t until right before he begs John for his forgiveness that he finds the switch to turn it off, which is why he manipulates him, recognizing the opportunity.

But it’s also true that John does often conflate his callousness with being unemotional, because in that moment Sherlock does unintentionally signal to John that he himself has an “off” switch, that he’s capable of pretending he cares or he doesn’t care at any given moment. John can be too close to it. Think of Mrs. Monkford in TGG, where Sherlock pretends to be emotional while crying merely to pry information out of her, only to drop the veil immediately after he gets what he ways. Sherlock does that because she’s part of a scheme to split the insurance money with Janus Cars for Ian Monkford’s misfortune, but from John’s perspective it’s that he has that ability at all. While Mrs. Hudson’s testimony is important, it’s not groundbreaking for him to hear that about Sherlock, exactly. John’s issue with Sherlock is not that he never acts emotional, it’s how he treats him and other people. John tries to make this issue revolve around the grief both of them are feeling about Mary’s death, and he really tries to sell this with the morgue scene where he beats Sherlock, but because Mary’s death is a lie, that entire problem between them this series is a lie. It’s deeper than that. John tries to write them as two straight men who have some personal and moral quandry to settle over the body of a dead woman before the curtains close at the end of his story, and he gives both of them per-established flaws that are baked into that, but neither of them fit, even if they fit some version of the truth.

Sherlock regresses in TST to such a degree that he’s acting like Sherlock did in series 1; he taunts Vivian Norbury to such an extreme degree for no other reason than to degrade her that she shoots Mary for him, which is part of the coverup, Norbury doesn’t exist, but it’s also giving him the flaw that he already overcame in TAB; his fear of vulnerability leading to callousness. It’s also not a coincidence how much John emphasizes him having this old flaw in the same episode where they two of them barely speak to each other, because John has to give himself a flaw; the cheating subplot. The cheating subplot is John sublimating himself emotionally cheating with Sherlock and also communicating with him secretly about Mary, but he weaves it into John’s deeper issue in TLD about not being the man that he wants to be:

We texted, constantly. You want to know when? Every time you left the room - that's when. When you were feeding our daughter. When you were stopping her from crying - that's when. And that's all it was. Just texting. But I wanted more. And do you know something? I still do. I'm not the man you thought I was, I'm not that guy. I never could be. But that's the point. *voice breaks* That's the whole point. Who you thought I was... is the man who I want to be.

But because we know that John is lying about the girl on the bus, and that his marriage is a sham, where does this come from? Who is the man that he wants to be? John’s quarrel is ultimately unresolved in the same way that Sherlock doesn’t respond to Irene’s texts. He declares that she’s a sociopath and that’s why Sherlock likes her, but he still isn’t sure about that by the end of the episode. The problem is not Sherlock acting emotional. The problem is that John loves him and doesn’t think Sherlock would return those feelings, and he has a breakdown about the state of his life and how lost and alone he feels being closeted in a life that’s drastically wrong for him. John and Sherlock are having very different journeys of learning to be vulnerable, where one is able to find his solution, and the other isn’t.

In the wake of Eustace’s death, Sherlock has to be reminded by Lestrade about the message tied to the dagger, he must have seen it! The message isn’t there when Sherlock finds Sir Eustace, but it’s there after the bride escapes. Similarly, Mary doesn’t give anyone her video message right away, it takes time for Sherlock to get it.

This is an honest connection to TLD where Sherlock has stabbed Mary’s message, something that John either couldn’t have known about or would have had to notice himself:

Unanswered question... Well, what does he do with anything he can't answer, John? Every time?

He stabs it.

Anything he can't find the answer for, bang! It's up there.

For this reason, I believe this element is true. This honest connection is also one of the most important parallels in the entire timeline of TAB overlapping with series 4; it tells us a lot about both characters, what’s happening in context of the story, and the overarching structure of the entire show.

The dagger connection is critical because among other things, it means that John’s story was suppose to end after TLD. But in TFP, at the very end when John reestablishes his story’s universe after going off the deep end for the rest of the episode after the TLD cliffhanger, Sherlock returns the knife to the mantle. Which means the true story hasn’t really ended. Sherlock hasn’t really solved it. And because this is John writing Sherlock, the question also becomes: what does John think Sherlock hasn’t solved?

It’s never explained why Mary’s message as stabbed to begin with; what was it about the video that Sherlock couldn’t answer? Sherlock follows her instructions and fulfills the case, it wasn’t a mystery that he couldn’t solve. The only answer would be “How does he save John Watson?”, but that very question is built on a false premise, because both of them did reach out to each other before John directly lies to the audience about it. If it was that simple, he would have done it. But John can’t answer him. He can’t answer the door, and he can’t answer his phone. The question then becomes, providing some of the other details about the message are true, augmented by the true events of series 4; how does he save John Watson given what John told him in the letter? How does he get him out of his house that’s become a prison? And how is Mary involved?

Because Mary is the case of series 4; the coverup and fallout of her murder is what the story revolves around. She’s the case that Sherlock can’t solve because him and John are separated. That’s why the knife is still there the case still unsolved, as Mary’s face from the second video message, the one that John fully invents, looms over them until the very last shot. And Sherlock has already subconsciously connected Mary to Moriarty; Sherlock can’t solve her case because he still hasn’t consciously realized it yet.

In TAB, we aren’t shown what the message says until John reads it, Miss Me?, reinforcing that this is all for John. John is the target. “I will burn the heart out of you.” Sherlock doesn’t answer him because he still can’t communicate with John about Moriarty’s return because Sherlock runs back to his past instincts; to shut John out and deal with Moriarty himself in order to protect him. Sherlock walks off without saying a word. In TLD, we get John’s mirror of this scene; we do see part of the video message at the end of TST and that it has Miss Me? written on it, and John is writing this, but the first time he discovers it in the story is when it’s with the dagger.

It’s not just Moriarty returning, it’s Mary too. It’s both of them. Because we know that Mary’s death was a coverup, this means that she’s going to return for real soon, and with real consequences. John tries to obfuscate what really happened by making Mary holding him as prisoner in his home as him manifesting his grief in the form of visions of his dead wife. But as Sherlock says in TAB, “There are no ghosts in this world. Save those we make for ourselves.” This also writes her out of the story, because after John completes is arc in his last scene with Sherlock in TLD, as per his original story plan, he finally stops having ghost visions of her. John is seeing Mary because she’s still alive and she’s drugging him. She’s trying to get him to commit suicide after isolating him, hurting Sherlock in the worst way imaginable. If Moriarty or Mary wanted to kill him they could have done so at anytime. Eurus shooting John is not the first time Mary has appeared to John. They want it to be John’s decision so that Sherlock will lose his humanity and, Moriarty hopes, become just like him. John ultimately gets out of it by faking it, but Mary is still out there. The case is still unsolved. The knife is still stabbed to the mantle.

When John writes that Sherlock still hasn’t solved the case yet, he isn’t just talking about Mary’s return or her true nature, he also means his own death. John didn’t let him in on the plan and now Sherlock has to solve it. It’s going to be the most difficult case he’s ever had, like Mary says in part of her video:

I'm giving you a case, Sherlock. Might be the hardest case of your career. When I'm...gone, if I'm gone, I need you to do something for me. Save John Watson. Save him, Sherlock.

And the reason why he has to do this, the reason why any of this is happening, is because Sherlock didn’t let him in on the plan. Sherlock fell; Moriarty faked his death; John married Mary; Mary faked her death; and now here they are. All because Sherlock wanted to protect John. But he’s hurt John more than Moriarty ever could have by not telling him the truth; that he loves him and he always has.

One of John’s blog entries before the fall shows a picture of a Clue game board with the knife in it. Sherlock deduced that the victim faked his own death. John writes, “And he told me it might be improbable but nothing’s impossible. I wish I still believed that.”

This is the case that John is leaving him. The case of his death.

The case of his death and how Mary was involved.

Shadows of this fear still echo throughout series 4, even when it’s over (”You didn’t think I’d just disappear, did you?”). Sherlock says Moriarty’s return is undeniable to Mycroft in TAB immediately after he leaves John alone, even after he was just attacked by the bride himself:

Do you miss him?

Moriarty is dead.

And yet...?

His body was never recovered.

To be expected when one pushes a maths professor over a waterfall. Pure reason toppled by sheer melodrama. Your life in a nutshell.

Sherlock is being purely honest in his dream, unfiltered for anyone else, which means that when he wakes from his dream and lies in front of Mary that he’s definitely dead, no question, he’s purposefully contradicting what he knows. Even if he’s in denial that he’s dead, it’s still a question. When John writes Sherlock saying that Moriarty is dead, and that everything that’s about to post-humous revenge And this is exactly what John does in TLD, with a minor caveat.

If you’re watching this, I’m... probably dead.

It’s suddenly not, “no question”, but “probably”. It’s not just a difference between how both characters are handling both of their returns, it’s a progression in their shared knowledge of the larger scheme that’s happening. It’s not that Moriarty is dead, no question, Mary is dead, no question, they aren’t connected, no question; both John and Sherlock had to process information on their own, letting their insecurities and subconscious suspicions slip into the stories that they’re creating, letting similar patterns of the same ideas, however differing, parallel each other, before the final confrontation with Mary and Moriarty.

Sir Eustace and Mary dying were massive midpoint events that shifted the tension of both stories. Both Sherlock and John found the answers they were looking for in that moment, even if they didn’t realize it; what remains to be seen is what they do with it together.

#sherlockedit #tjlcedit #tjlc #sherlock bbc #john watson #the adventures of sherlock holmes #greg lestrade #mrs. hudson #mycroft holmes #looking closer at tab timeline #edits #television #gifset #gifs

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