#this might work best with The Doctor considering she DOES NOT TRUST HIM

[incangencence]

Plot Concept that keeps bouncing around in my brain this morning... Gene and one of her Timelords going off on an adventure somewhere, and getting caught up in the crossfire of a group that's trying to track down and kill this alien/mythical-esque creature that's been attacking the local settlement. And Gene getting injured by the creature, and infected with its venom. And Gene not telling anyone that this has happened, and her Timelord having to find out about it the hard way...

[waywardxwords]

The Fix - Part Six

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Language, maybe some fluff *eye emoji*

Word Count: ~4.3k

Beau had called the FBI as he drove to the hospital, and then again when you and Bailey were in with the doctor. Everything had checked out—Bailey was unharmed. She was a little dehydrated, but otherwise, she was fine. She was scared and didn’t understand what had happened. You had assured her everything would be okay, but didn’t know how else to explain everything that had taken place with her father. 

You sat in the back of Beau’s truck, your hands held tight to Bailey as you couldn’t bring yourself to let go. 

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere?” You asked her as your hands danced over her head, her arms. Your eyes moved over every inch of her to look for any injuries. 

“No, mama,” she said softly. “But I’m cold…and hungry.” 

Beau heard her words and cranked up the heat in the truck. You thanked him softly. He reached for the duffel again and leaned back to say, “There’s a granola bar in there and trail mix. Water, too. Make sure she’s hydrated.”

You found the bar, the trail mix and water and opened the packages for her to eat. As she ate and Beau drove, you looked out the window. You weren’t sure where Beau was taking you at this point, but you knew it wasn’t in the direction of your home. It didn’t even matter, really. You were in a daze at this point and you were willing to admit that you wholeheartedly trusted Beau. 

As if he could read your mind, Beau cleared his throat from the driver’s seat. “We’re heading to my office. They want to ask Bailey some questions.” His eyes moved between you and Bailey in the backseat. It was as if he anticipated your concern. “It’s gonna be alright. They want to try to see what she remembers while it’s fresh on her mind. We will both be there, and you’ll have eyes on her the entire time.”

It was as if Beau had stepped into your brain and carefully tended to each issue you had with this scenario. 

“Who will be asking the questions?” You contemplated, silently hoping it might be Beau. 

“They have an agent coming who works with kids,” he explained as he made the turn into the sheriff’s office parking lot. 

“You can’t be the one to question her?” You asked. 

He shook his head before he continued. “Sorry, darlin’. The FBI is managing it from here.” It felt like you hadn’t gotten the entire story, but you stayed quiet. Exhaustion had overcome you, but you felt like you couldn’t truly rest. There was no way to know what else might be out there—or who, rather. So instead, you sighed as Beau shifted into park and turned your attention to Bailey. 

“Hey, B?” You started softly as you unbuckled her from her seat. “There are some people who want to talk to you about your…” you hesitated. Bailey hadn’t fully understood what she had endured, and you wanted to try your best to avoid traumatizing her any further. “About your adventure…” you settled on the wording. A quick glance to the rear view mirror, you saw Beau’s gaze on you. He gave you a small nod with a wink. “I want you to answer all of their questions, okay?”

“Okay,” she answered easily. Besides being hungry, tired and cold—she had seemed okay, all things considered. 

“Thank you,” you breathed with a smile. You stepped out of the truck first, and reached in to help Bailey get out. You clutched her hand tightly as you followed Beau into the office.

Before he pulled open the glass door, Beau looked back at you. “You take issue with any question or any part of all this, and you tell me?” His eyes were firm with intent, but gentle in his delivery.

“Okay,” you agreed. He nodded once and then opened the door for you and Bailey to walk through, with him just a step behind you.

Immediately, you recognized the man in a suit in the lobby as Matt Donahue, the FBI agent who had been working on Jackson’s case. He approached you with a serious look on his face, and his eyes moved over Beau just behind you. He looked less than pleased. Behind him, there was a woman in a similar black suit. She stepped around the man you recognized and offered you a small, but warm, smile.

“Hi, I’m Agent Stephanie Michaels,” she introduced and put her hand out to shake yours. You offered her your name, and shook her hand gently. “And you must be Bailey.” She widened her smile and knelt down just in front of your daughter.

You felt Bailey’s hand that you weren’t holding grip onto your denim jacket as she melded her body to your side. “Hi,” her voice was just as small as she was.

“You can call me Stephanie, or Steph…whichever you prefer,” she grinned. “Hey, I have some cool toys and coloring books in this room over here. Would you want to color with me for a little bit?”

Bailey looked to you for reassurance. The idea of her being anywhere away from you–even if you were in the literal sheriff’s office–made you feel sick to your stomach. Your eyes traveled to Beau’s. You looked to him for the same reassurance your daughter had looked to you for, and there was something about that which felt different. All of your life, you had always felt so sure of yourself and the decisions you made. When you first became a mother, you weren’t so sure anymore–motherhood had made you question everything about yourself, but with time, you had become very sure of your decisions as they pertained to Bailey.

Beau offered a small smile and a nod, and somehow, that was enough for you.

“Go ahead, bug,” you smiled down at her with the nickname you had called her from birth. Your hand smoothed down over the top of her head and rested on her cheek. “I’ll be just outside in the other room. If you need me, you just tell Stephanie, okay?”

She nodded and looked back at the agent before she dropped your hand and followed her into the interrogation room. As soon as the door closed, you felt your breath hitch in the back of your throat and your heart raced. The burn of anxiety crept up your neck and settled  into your cheeks.

And then you felt a hand on the small of your back. “It’s gonna be alright, we’re going to watch from the other side,” his timing was impeccable. Your eyes found Beau’s with a small glance over your shoulder.

Words failed you as your throat had tightened, so you just nodded in response. Beau gingerly led you to the room that shared a wall with the interrogation room they were in. The room was dark, but there was a large glass window that looked into the room Bailey and Stephanie had ventured into. You knew the other side simply showed a mirror and Bailey would never know you were there. Matt followed you in, as well.

Stephanie had brought with her various toys and activities that a child would enjoy–there were Barbie dolls, baby dolls and coloring books. “What would you like to play with, Bailey?” She asked softly. You liked her. You didn’t like the situation you were in, but you felt safe with her. Stephanie was slowly shifting your opinion on FBI agents, and you realized she was the perfect person to work with kids in the line of work she was in.

“Um…I like Barbies! I have this one at home,” Bailey quickly reached for one of the dolls. 

“Okay, great! I can be this Barbie here,” Stephanie reached for a different doll and the two started playing.

“Hey,” Beau murmured from behind you. “I’m going to grab a coffee quick, would you like one?” He asked as you glanced back at him.

A smile tugged at your lips. “That would be great,” you sighed.

“How do you take it?” He asked. There was something about the way he was looking at you, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Two cream, two sugar, please,” you smiled, appreciative. He nodded as he stepped outside the room and closed the door behind him.

You turned your attention back to Stephanie and Bailey. Stephanie was currently encouraging Bailey to act out what had transpired over the last day through the Barbie dolls. It was a challenge–Bailey had a wild, but beautifully creative, imagination. You knew it would take a little time to get her to talk through what they needed from her.

Matt cleared his throat next to you after a moment. “Can I ask you a question?” He kept his eyes on the glass for a second, but then turned to look at you.

“Sure,” you hesitated, but knew he was probably going to ask either way.

“What’s your relationship with the sheriff?” His eyes studied you, his jaw tense. His question completely blindsided you, which was probably obvious from your furrowed brows and the way your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?” You asked him incredulously.

“I’m curious. Friends? Family? More than that? I’m just trying to wrap my head around why the hell a sheriff–an interim sheriff, mind you–would go through so much trouble stepping all over the FBI on a case that’s miles above his pay grade,” he was blunt. “Especially a man who is trying to prove he’s the right guy to be the permanent sheriff in this town.” You knew what the answer was–you and Beau didn’t have any kind of relationship–but you were startled by the question and why he would ask in the first place.

“There is no relationship between Beau and I,” you explained slowly. “Listen, I know he caused some trouble for you and I’m sorry for that. He was trying to keep me safe and find my kid, which–by the way–I felt like the FBI couldn’t care any less about. You all were so gung-ho on finding Jackson, so Beau stepped in to help me find Bailey.”

Matt frowned again. “While yes, that was insanely frustrating, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about how Beau wouldn’t back down today. This interview was supposed to take place on FBI territory. He downright refused…he said we couldn’t talk to Bailey anywhere but here. And that you had to be present at all times.”

You blinked once, then twice as you processed what he said. Beau had fought, yet again, to keep you and Bailey safe and comfortable. 

“He what?” You finally breathed.

“That’s why I asked. I figured you must be family or he must seriously care about you,” Matt looked back at the glass but you stayed silent as your mind tried to work through this new information.

Meanwhile in the small office kitchen, Beau watched as the dark colored liquid slowly began to trickle into the pot on the coffee maker. He found himself lost in thought as the pot slowly filled, but was interrupted when someone cleared their throat from behind.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Beau,” she sighed. Beau turned to see one of his investigators, Cassie Dewell, lean against the countertop behind him.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Beau looked back to the coffee as it continued to trickle.

Cassie rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from the counter to step closer to Beau. “You’re really going to take on the FBI? The big dogs who call all the shots? Do you want to be unemployed?” She sighed. Beau’s eyes found hers. She was concerned for him, and he appreciated it. But the thoughts and feelings he had swirling in his head over the last day had made it difficult for him to think clearly about anything.

“My job is to protect the people in this town,” he said very clearly. “She just got her daughter back, Cassie. You want me to send them to some strange place where they’re forced to be separated? You think Bailey’s gonna want to answer any questions that way? I wouldn’t,” he scoffed but redirected his attention to grab two styrofoam cups from the cupboard.

“This is something else…this is different, Beau,” she dropped her voice to a gentle whisper as she watched his movements. 

He didn’t need Cassie to say the words to know that she was right. “I’ve always been so good at keeping my head on straight when it comes to work,” he didn’t want to open up to Cassie; he hadn’t even wanted to address his thoughts or feelings internally yet. But he spoke on it anyway. “But this has been different. It’s almost like when…” he stopped himself as he stared at the styrofoam cups.

“Like when Emily was missing?” Cassie answered for him.

His eyes found hers again and he felt his throat tighten, which only made him somewhat frustrated. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Cassie. I hear you, I know I need to tread carefully but I also wanna make sure I’m doing what’s best for the people in this town.”

“The people in this town, or–” Beau cut her off before she could say anything else.

“They are two people who live in this town,” he said firmly. “And right now, they need my help.”

“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender. “I’m just encouraging you to stop pissing off the FBI, okay? We kinda like having you here. It would be really shitty if you got fired.” She offered a small smile to ease some of the tension their conversation had created.

Beau nodded and looked back at the pot where the coffee was ready.

“Thanks,” he grinned in return. “I’ll do my best.”

Hours had passed–the agents had ordered pizza as a late lunch (or early dinner, even) for you and Bailey. Bailey had given some additional information (it had just been her and Jackson on their “adventure”, she hadn’t seen anyone, and her father hadn’t treated her poorly but he seemed “different”). You knew that meant Jackson had been out of his mind while he was with Bailey, which made you feel sick again, but also thankful that she was alright.

Finally, Stephanie and Matt had determined there were no other questions they needed to get answered, and they said you were free to go. 

Their words hung in the air as you stood before them. Free to go. You didn’t know what that meant. You didn’t feel like you could possibly return to your home. While you felt sure that Bailey hadn’t been exposed to any drug dealers or criminals, you couldn’t be so sure that they weren’t still going to look for you. With Jackson in jail, your brain had already processed that there could be people looking for collateral or to send a message. You weren’t an idiot; you knew the FBI would try to get Jackson to rat out the people he had worked with–they were looking for the big dogs, and Jackson wasn’t one of them.

“You alright?” Beau asked after the agents left. Bailey had curled up on a chair in the lobby–she was exhausted and needed to get to bed.

“Y-yeah,” you stumbled over the word, but offered him a smile anyway. “It just feels weird, you know? Just that it’s all over–like that’s it,” you sighed. “I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. It just feels strange.”

Beau’s eyes studied you again–it was something he seemed less afraid to do the longer you were around him. Surprisingly, it didn’t make you uncomfortable–you just didn’t want him to see all of the feelings passing through you: fear, anxiety, overwhelming worry.

“Listen, I don’t want to overstep,” Beau eyed Bailey who was quickly beginning to fall asleep behind you on the lobby chair. “But if you’d like, you and Bailey can stay with me tonight. You two can take my room and I’ll get some shut eye on the couch.”

“Oh, no Beau,” you said quickly, though something inside of you was telling you to say yes. “We’ve put you out long enough. I’m not going to ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” his voice was a low murmur–the lowness made it so much more raspy than normal and it sent a shiver down your spine so that the little hairs on your neck stood to attention. “I’m offerin’. And I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Truthfully, I would feel better if you stayed with me. Otherwise, I’m gonna be up all night worryin’.”

You nodded and nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes trailed over Bailey. You knew deep down you wouldn’t sleep, either, if you were alone with her at home. You’d be sitting with a kitchen knife by her bedside all night–and you hadn’t slept in so many hours, as it was.

“Alright,” you practically whispered. “If you’re sure.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he nodded his head in agreement.

The drive to Beau’s home was silent–the only sound came from the rumble of his truck engine. Bailey slept peacefully against your side as you played aimlessly with her hair. The sun was pulling down behind the mountains now, and you had to think about what day it was. It had been the most exhausting, terrifying day of your life. The only thing keeping you upright was thinking about how you didn’t want Bailey out of your sight for even a moment.

The truck came to a stop just outside Beau’s trailer and he shifted into park.

Very gently, you unhooked your seatbelt and leaned over Bailey to do the same. Beau stepped out of the truck and opened the door closest to Bailey.

“I can…” he hesitated and his eyes watched you closely before he glanced down at Bailey and held his arms out to show you he could carry her. He knew you had been in mama bear mode for a long time, and he wasn’t going to make any sudden movements. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you whispered back. 

“I don’t mind, I just don’t want ya to claw out my jugular,” he half chuckled. Your cheeks reddened and you smiled. 

“It’s fine, you can carry her in,” both you and Beau realized that was your sign of ultimate trust—like a cat or dog showing you their belly. You trusted him with your kid, and that spoke volumes. 

He nodded once and very gently lifted her off of the seat and to his chest. You got out of the truck and followed him to the door. 

“Uh, any chance you could…” he hesitated for a moment. 

“Oh! Right, keys. Where are they?” You eyed his jacket pockets to see which one they might be in. 

He cleared his throat. “Jeans, back pocket.” You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat. You hesitated for a moment. “They won’t bite, darlin’.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

With a quick roll of your eyes, you carefully reached into his back pocket and pulled the keys out. “Sorry,” you murmured as you scooted by him on the step to open the door. You found the key and slipped it into the lock, opening the door with ease. 

“I’m gonna lay her down on the bed in the back,” he nodded back to, what you assumed was, his bedroom. You followed closely behind as he gently placed her on the bed. “I think she’ll be warm back here, but here’s an extra blanket.” He reached to the dresser and handed you a quilt. 

“Thanks,” you breathed as you carefully covered her up. You reached down and smoothed her hair away from her forehead. The sound of Beau’s boots retreating down the hall made its way to your ears. You couldn’t help but smile at Bailey sleeping soundly—safe. Your lips pressed to her forehead and you closed your eyes; she still smelled of the woods and the hospital, but you wouldn’t wake her for anything right now. A bath could wait. She was back, and she was okay. 

After a moment, you followed Beau’s footsteps to the front of the camper. 

You realized he had stepped outside and left the door ajar. The cool air from the Montana sky sent a chill over you, and you realized you still had on the denim jacket from the day before, a thin long-sleeve top and jeans. It would have to do.

As you stepped silently on the top step, you noticed Beau had started a fire. It wasn’t strong yet, but he poked at it to get the flame to grow. As you watched his profile in the orange glow of the fire, your heart fluttered. Your mind flashed back over the last day, and all the moments you had experienced with Beau:

The way he trusted that you didn’t know where Jackson was, but wanted to scan your place quickly to make sure he wasn’t there just a few days before. To keep you safe. 

The way he dropped everything when you finally used his number to come to you when Bailey went missing. 

The blatant disregard he had for the FBI when they said they had it handled; it wasn’t a power play, it was because he wanted to fix this. 

The way he held doors open for you, made sure you were being protected (and when he wasn’t sure the deputies or agents could handle it, he showed up to protect you), the way he spoke to you when you shared the abuse you had endured, the way he stayed calm when Jackson finally showed up so you could still try to find Bailey, the way he touched your face…and in that moment, everything clicked.

Beau felt the weight of your gaze and turned back to look at you from over his shoulder.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that, darlin’?” He seemed almost nervous as he stood to face you.

“Beau…” your throat felt dry, but what you had to say simply couldn’t wait. “Did you push back on the FBI today about where they would interrogate Bailey? And make it so that I could be there?”

He was silent for a moment. He brought his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed at the tension there to try and find inspiration on something to say. “I may have done that,” he said softly. “I wanted to make sure I could control the situation, just in case. I don’t trust that Donahue agent, and I didn’t know anything about the woman they wanted Bailey to talk to…” his voice trailed off as you walked towards him off of the steps.

A different kind of fear bubbled in your throat–this fear was around rejection or the disappointment of misreading someone, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood just inches in front of him, your face tilted upwards so you could look into his eyes.

“Who am I to you, Beau Arlen?” The words from Agent Donahue had repeated in your head for the last few hours, but you never thought you’d get the courage to ask Beau directly.

He was silent again, allowing the fear to boil at this point. Your heart raced like it had for the last day, albeit for different reasons. But then his gaze moved over your face from your nose, to your lips, to your eyes once more.

“You’re a mother–a damn good mother, might I add,” he started softly. “You’re a stubborn-as-hell woman, who doesn’t follow any kinda rules or direction. You’re someone who’s been through hell but you don’t wear a chip on your shoulder for it.” His voice was low and the rasp was back–you felt weak in the knees, but you couldn’t be sure if that was from what he was saying or the pure exhaustion that drenched you from head to toe. “And for whatever goddamn reason…I don’t care who I gotta go against when it comes to you and your kid. Including the FBI.” He added on. You swallowed to try and clear the dryness from your throat. He paused for a moment before he smirked. 

You glimpsed between his eyes and mouth once, twice…and then without missing a beat, Beau’s hands gripped just above your elbows. He pulled you flush against his chest and you felt the warmth of his lips on yours. He pulled back after just a moment to study your gaze.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he muttered as he closed his eyes shut tightly, as if he had just made a mistake. You read his features and brought your hand to his cheek to turn his face to meet your gaze. 

“If you don’t kiss me again, Beau Arlen…” your voice fell in a whisper as you teased, but your eyes told him you were serious. 

Carefully, and painfully slowly, Beau’s hands found your hips and he tugged you to him before you both closed your eyes and your lips found each other once more.

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for reading (and for being patient--this one ended up being a bit longer than my usual chapters, so I hope that makes up for this being late!).

I hope I did this chapter justice. I would love to know what you thought! As always, thanks for reading, liking, commenting, and sharing!

New installments are posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays! Just a few more parts left in this story, I think...unless I get some crazy idea (which is always possible, hah).

A preview of the next chapter:

The fire had roared to life by now, with you and Beau settled on two camping chairs positioned so close together there was an overlap. There hadn’t been too many words spoken yet, but his hand held yours reassuringly in his lap as your eyes watched the flames and your bodies absorbed the warmth. The trailer door was left ajar, just in case Bailey woke up and called for you. 

Your eyes wandered to his profile and you couldn’t help but stare. “Starin’ ain’t polite, darlin’,” he drawled with a tired smile. His head turned to look at you–his eyes almost lazy at this point.

“Sorry,” your cheeks reddened once you had been caught. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

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[crossingcrimes]

So like, random thought/prompt/idea I had?

You know how Hannibal is all "Oh you're the one I'd want guarding my home" that first meal with Will?

What if Will internalized that? Cause I mean the whole conversation is basically him saying Jack treats him as a tool, one that Jack doesn't consider worth caring for and will use until it's no longer functioning.

And here's Hannibal talking about how he sees Will as someone he would want to like, protect him.

And of course we know that when Wills brain was melting he became very emotionally dependent on Hannibal, literally went into a fugue state and lost hours of time and came to after interacting with Hannibal.

What if during all that brain melting nonsense Will sorta latched onto the idea that Hannibal wants Will to protect him? Like his brain is nearly dribbling outta his ears, he's losing time and hallucinating sounds, and Jack gives not a single fuck about how Will is suffering. Jack just keeps pushing him into doing something that's not even remotely his job.

(btw does Will get paid for this? Cause like he was rejected from that kinda work prior so like? Is he even an approved and paid consultant? Jack is basically preventing Will from doing his actual legal job which is teaching and I'm curious how that works out legally and payment wise)

Jack is very obviously on the road of using Will like a tool he doesn't care about until he breaks.

Meanwhile you have Hannibal. Who from Will's perspective, is just being so caring and sympathetic to Will. Who disagrees with how Jack is treating him. Who takes care of him by feeding him and checking on him when he disappears from a planned meeting. Hannibal who (again to Wills POV) doesn't want to use Will like a tool. He wants Will to be a shield, a protector!

So what if during his sickness Will got really weird and dependant on the idea of needing to protect Hannibal from those who would hurt him? And Hannibal being who he is picks up on this shift in personality and goes "hey, I could do something with this!".

So he takes Will for another brain scan, with a different doctor, and lo' and behold Will isn't crazy! His brain is melting! And Hannibal plays up being just sooooo apologetic about having trusted the wrong person with Wills care, how could Will even forgive him for this? Truly what a horrible person he trusted who would let Will suffer for some sick desire for research, etc etc. painting himself as a bit of a victim taken advantage of by someone he trusted.

And Will, who is recovering and only has Hannibal actually around to show that he cares that Will was sick and is caring for him even though he's not the best behaved cause of the illness and medicine, is like " how dare someone hurt Hannibal! Hannibal is so good to me and clearly I need to protect him from people who would take advantage of him!"

Ultimately of course, this takes the path wherein Hannibal isolates Will from others by setting up situations where Will feels Hannibal needs to be protected from others, and since that's the case how could Will possibly trust them? And Will's identity becomes so dependent on the idea that he is Hannibal's protector and that Hannibal is the only person who REALLY cares about him that even when the truth comes out he stays with Hannibal.

Maybe Hannibal gives him the tragic backstory of his sister and the path of revenge he took, and how between that and his aunt (probably paints her as someone else who took advantage of him when he was vulnerable, cause I mean, traumatized teen who's step-aunt gets so obsessively in love with him that she kills her own husband paints a different picture here) he just doesn't know how to be a 'normal' person. That it's become such an integral part of him, the killing and cannibalism, that not doing it would negatively affect him.

And sure, Will might be a bit upset initially but like, at this point Hannibal has made Will so isolated and dependant on him for mental/emotional stability that all that'll really happen is maybe Will sleeps in the guest room with his dogs for a week and is a bit sullen. Of course Hannibal plays up the apologetic regretful "but baby I miss you I'm so sorry" thing and Will basically forgives him.

After the reveal could go either way also. Either the idea that Will is just so very protective of Hannibal that he doesn't want Hannibal out doing his dangerous hobby alone/ agrees that these people were rude/unkind to Hannibal and killing them is for the best. OR! Will doesn't get involved in the killing at all, genuinely treats it like Hannibal's weird hobby they can't let the neighbors know about but honestly has no interest in, kiss at the door "have fun with your thing tonight dear" type shit.

Either way obviously protecting Hannibal from Jack becomes a major focus of his. Cause if Jack was a piece of shit to Will when Will was the only thing making him so successful at his work, how would he treat Hannibal who in reality is his forsworn enemy?

[dr-futbol-blog]

Conversion, Pt. 15

Weir and Caldwell leave the infirmary together just like Weir and Sheppard had left together at the end of Duet (S02E04), when Sheppard wanted to have a word with Weir about taking Ronon in on his team. Where Weir had just communicated to everyone that she was looking forward to getting some sleep, Caldwell accosts her on her way out to have a conversation in what is their fourth scene together in the episode. And all of their conversations have been about John Sheppard.

Caldwell: If and when Colonel Sheppard resumes his duties, I hope he'll consider some of the changes that I've made. Weir: When he does, that'll be up to him. Caldwell: Of course. Daedalus will head back to Earth in less than a week. I'll be out of your hair in no time. Weir: We'll try to manage without you until you get back. Caldwell: Despite what you might think of my intentions, Doctor Weir, I'm not your enemy. Weir: Believe me, Colonel, you don't want to be.

Their exchange here seems like a continuation of the discussion in The Intruder (S02E02) that took place at the SGC, back when the senior staff had returned to Earth after re-establishing contact with them. Caldwell had been de facto elected as Colonel Sumner's successor for the position of military commander of Atlantis and Weir strong-armed them to accept her choice, and also to give Sheppard a promotion to make him eligible for the post in the first place. It seems like Caldwell is trying to offer Weir the olive branch here, reminding her that they are better off trying to work together than against each other. He might want to advance his career but he also wants what is best for Atlantis and it could be, now that he has walked half a mile in Sheppard's shoes, that he can better appreciate what Sheppard has to do here. This is not a normal command and they have to be adaptable for all the weird things that happen here. Caldwell is not as flexible as Sheppard, nor does he think he could inspire the kind of devotion that he has observed in Sheppard's team during these few days.

Weir's response to Caldwell is uncivil, which might be excused by her exhaustion. It is a threat and the fact that she makes it indicates that she has felt threatened herself during these events. Let us recall that the cavalier attitude with which Weir went into Sheppard's quarters with the intention of showing her trust and solidarity toward Sheppard, to make a show of Sheppard having been her choice for the post, had almost cost her her life. It is doubtful that she would have gone in against the explicit advice of the guard posted at Sheppard's door unless she had something to prove to Caldwell, and most of all to herself. It seems as though she was trying to convince herself most of all that she had made the right choice, and she is reiterating that choice here. She has chosen Sheppard, and she will continue to defend him and his position here because her own career is likewise riding on her having made the right choice all those months ago.

And like she had previously, she reminds Caldwell of the fact that on the political arena she is a formidable adversary. Previously, it seemed to be about public relations and that unspoken reason why the brass felt that Sheppard was the wrong man for such a prominent position (that may not yet be public but is a matter of public record). There is nothing explicitly hinting at the same motivation here. But note that they began this discussion on the topic of the changes that Caldwell had proposed to security protocols, rearranging the teams, labour distribution and scheduling. It was implied that one of Caldwell's biggest issues was the fact that Sheppard has McKay on his team. And while there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for thinking that it is not only ridiculous but downright hazardous to have both of them on the same off-world team given their respective importance to Atlantis, based on their earlier interactions Weir may well have interpreted Caldwell's attempts at breaking them up as motivated by his suspicions about Sheppard being in violation of regulations.

And the policy of DADT meant that they could not even discuss this issue openly, which left people with only the option of using insinuation, innuendo and double-speak to broach these issues with. Where Caldwell probably had not been thinking about Sheppard's extracurricular activities at all during the time that he was warming the bench for him, it is entirely possible that Weir, being that she is on the defense, hears his words and interprets the changes proposed by him in light of their previous non-discussions about this topic, and hence feels the need to re-establish his support for Sheppard. She does not care what Sheppard does on his own time and with whom, and neither should he.

And so the Daedalus leaves, things return to normal, and a few weeks have passed since the previous scene. We find Teyla training together with another woman in the gym and while we do not know what their relationship to one another is, their interaction certainly is erotic. As Sheppard walks in, Teyla also steps away from the woman almost as though he had just caught them doing something that was not meant for the eyes of others.

Teyla: Good. Lift, lock, serpentine, lock, and hold. Understood?Colonel! Should you be up and about?

Let us recall that in The Siege (S02E01) McKay said that he had been practicing forward rolls and getting pretty good at them, which is a part of the kind of combat training that one does not conduct alone, and so someone had to have been teaching him. This is not to say that combat training will inevitably lead to intimate contact but that it is different to give instruction to someone with whom one is in other kind of physical contact as well. Teyla's behaviour here indicates that Sheppard very much interrupted something that she would rather not have been interrupted. Also note the fact that although Teyla is holding the woman in such a position as to have her breasts very much on display, when Sheppard walks in he keeps his eeys on Teyla's face and then casts them down, seeming to avoid looking at what is a rather natural focus for attention. Also, the fact that we as the audience get to focus on her breasts primes us to read the scene in a heteronormative context when that it almost the opposite of what actually takes place here.

Sheppard: Well, I've been cooped up in that damned Infirmary for a couple of weeks. Give me a break. Teyla: You are looking well.

Not only is Sheppard looking well, he is looking different. Sheppard is dressed in light clothes, unlike we have seen before. When he was on Earth and visited Ford's cousin, he had a white dress shirt on but now he is entirely light tones, and while his shirt has a blue tint, his usual dark attires make the difference more striking. And given that we saw the poster of Johnny Cash as The Man in Black in this episode, there may well be a visual reference here to the song. This episode is the miniature of Sheppard's broader arc on the show, from the Man in Black to the man looking onto San Francisco at the end of the Rainbow Road at the end of the show.

In Enemy at the Gates (S05E20), we see Sheppard sporting lighter fatigues as he flies one of the fighter-interceptors, finally getting to wear that rainbow. Sheppard's journey from the Man in Black to the man wearing the rainbow is underscored by the previous episode, Vegas (S05E19), where the Sheppard of a parallel reality dies as Johnny Cash's Solitary Man plays in the background, this Sheppard one that had his heart broken by a woman and whose reality seems to have diverged from ours because of the fact that Captain Holland (or what ever her name in that reality may have been) had been a woman rather than a man in that reality. Point is, Johnny Cash is important to our Johnny boy and Johnny Cash's songs give us insight into his character in many places. We saw the poster in this episode, and he goes through the arc from being the Man in Black to wearing lighter items of clothing here, and because we rarely see him in anything but dark clothes, it is important.

But furthermore, Sheppard has spent a couple of weeks in the infirmary and is looking forward to having something to do that does not involve hospital food. These clothes are hinting at a date. He has plans, and he just wanted to come here to make amends with Teyla before getting to what ever he had chosen to wear these clothes for. He is not up for sparring yet, he is not up for running with Ronon. We never got to see what activity he might have done alone with McKay like he did with the others, but it is entirely possible that there are activities that he might be able to engage in with McKay that are not as strenuous. For instance, there are those dinners together that were hinted at. As we shall see with the next episode, between Sheppard kissing Teyla and Aurora (S02E09), Sheppard and McKay have talked.

Teyla: Are you feeling more like yourself? Sheppard: Well, according to my DNA, I'm a hundred percent John Sheppard again... although, I got to say, I'm looking forward to getting rid of this thing, one day. Doc says it'll clear up eventually. So listen. While I've been laying there the past few weeks, I've been remembering things.

Teyla asks if Sheppard is feeling back to normal and Sheppard actually dodges the question. He does not tell her that he is feeling like himself but instead tells her that his DNA has returned to the way it was previously. Sheppard is not good with feelings, and because he avoids having to think about his feelings most of the time, he does not even know how he feels. Naming feelings is not something that he enjoys doing.

And despite how many people may have visited him in the hospital while he has been convalescing, he has still had a lot of time to just sit with his own thoughts and with his own feelings, and that is not his favourite occupation. What happened to him has forced him to do some soul-searching and the fact that we see him in lighter clothes suggests that he may have made some important discoveries, that he has at least attempted to make peace with himself. And like an alcoholic on the road to recovery, one of the important steps is to make amends with the people that were hurt on the way to rock bottom. Sheppard is trying to do the right thing here. It is not easy, but he is trying. But note that Teyla is not looking forward to this discussion any more than he is. She would rather not remember what happened either.

Sheppard: Some things I might have done that you could call out of character. Teyla: You mean when you attacked the security detail.

Sheppard was not acting like himself. We are told by Teyla herself that they never hooked up in Doppelganger (S04E04), and despite the innuendo in Sunday (S03E17), which was intended as misdirection rather than to imply that there had been anything going on between them, they never even wanted to. They are friends. Teyla's friendship is important to Sheppard, where Sheppard's leadership is important to her. And yet Sheppard does think she is hot, seriously hot, which we will return to with the next episode because McKay cannot resist rubbing things in Sheppard's face. But note their use of the phrase "out of character" here. They are going out of their way to establish this as aberrant behaviour, as something that Sheppard would never do as himself. Kissing women is out of character for John Sheppard. There is always some attenuating circumstance for when that happens. It is interesting, that.

Sheppard: Yeah, that was one of them. Teyla: Yes. Sheppard: There's another thing I should probably apologize for.

Allowing for the fact that Sheppard was not being himself, was not acting entirely of his own accord, we can see here how difficult apologizing is for him. In Harmony (S04E14), Sheppard tells McKay that people often dislike in others the things they actually dislike about themselves, and McKay not saying things like please and thank you, not saying he is sorry, is something that bothers Sheppard. And the reason for this, based on observation of his behaviour, is that he rarely says these things himself. Given the social class in which he was brought up, he has surely been taught how to do these things as a child, has been indoctrinated into thinking that certain kinds of behaviour are expected of people in their station in life. Their behaviour toward each other and the lower social classes is a class marker, and upholding these unwritten rules is how one establishes their place within the societal elite.

However, Sheppard seems to have a rebellious streak, seems to have an innate need for bucking systems that may derive from his difficult relationship with his father. So where Sheppard knows how to behave, what is expected of him, we can observe a clear resistance in him toward these expected behaviours. We rarely hear him say please or thank you, and he never says that he is sorry. He rarely is sorry, he will rarely admit that he is wrong even he might be obviously on the wrong side of some issue. And because he is so confident about being right, to the point of being self-righteous, the audience also rarely thinks that Sheppard is wrong on anything. And so he rarely says he is sorry. And this here, thinking that he probably and he should apologize, with two whole qualifiers, is the closest he can come to apologizing. And he cannot even say the thing he is sorry for. He cannot face her without taking up the batons and having these weapons as a barrier between them, to ease his way through this faux-apology.

When we compare this with McKay's apology at the end of Trinity (S02E06), where Sheppard may feel like McKay never apologizes, his apology is actually both heartfelt and sincere. He does not apologize just because he wants to relieve some of his own guilt, because he does not want someone to be angry with him. He names the thing he is sorry for and he takes responsibility for having made a mistake, he promises to do better in the future. He is contrite and wants to make the person he hurt feel better, not himself. His apology is as though crafted by a PR firm, hitting all the beats, and it is sincerely what he feels besides. He has had to do a lot of soul-searching to reach the place where he can extend this to Sheppard, and he lets him know that he is willing to do the hard work it will take to get Sheppard to a place where he can find forgiveness.

Sheppard is not good with feelings or expressing them, like he tells Teyla in Sateda (S03E04). Moments such as this, when he is forced to bare himself, are torture to him. He is contrite. He does feel sorry for what he did. He certainly had never meant to do it. He values his relationship with Teyla and he is afraid that he has fractured it, that he has changed something between forever that he had never intended to do. He very much wanted things to go back to the way they had been before. He valued her friendship, he needed it. Teyla had been the first real friend he had made in this galaxy, first friend he had made in a long time, maybe ever. Her friendship was important to him. He did not want to lose it, could not afford to lose it. He did not want things to be awkward between them. And so, he is trying. He was not good at it, but he was willing to try because it was important to him.

Sheppard tells Teyla that there was more than one thing he did that had been out of character for him. She teases him by suggesting that attacking his own men had been one of them. The implied meaning here is that kissing her had definitely been one of them. But it is possible, even likely, that more things than these two had been out of character for Sheppard. For one, he seemed far too ready to share his feelings and emotions at the early part of the transformation. But the way in which Sheppard ignored McKay as he walked right past him to the gate in his Sith robes was also very much out of character. From everything we have seen of Sheppard, he gravitates toward McKay. When ever he has tried to ignore him, there has been a reason for it and however desperately he may have tried, he has always failed in turning away form him, in ignoring him.

But us appreciate the fact that Sheppard is being charming here. Not in an attempt at seducing kind of way but in the way that he probably has been able to use his charm and his good looks in getting out of things scot-free since he was a child and had nannies and nurses and tutors eating out of his hand. Sheppard does not use this charm just on women but men as well, and it is probably more than one disciplinary hearing he has avoided using his charm, given the propensity he has for bending the rules and bucking the system (in fact, some of the first people we see him use his charm on are Gen. O'Neill and Col. Sumner). His use of charm is very calculated, he is practiced in it. The gestures he makes here, he has perfected them over the years.

While his desire to apologize to Teyla is sincere, there is nothing authentic about the way he conducts himself here. Sheppard is not above using his charm to get what he wants, and right now he wants Teyla to put this behind them and forget all about it. In this, too, he is a counterpoint to McKay. There was nothing practiced in McKay's apology because he had never done it before, he had never even wanted to do it before he met Sheppard. He is open and bare with Sheppard because he wants Sheppard to see him as he is. Sheppard has the opposite objective here. He wants Teyla to forget ever having seen this side of him that he would rather not know about himself.

Teyla: Give it no further thought. Sheppard: Good! I won't. Teyla: Nice to have you back... John.

Teyla lets Shepard off the hook. Note that when Sheppard says that he will give it no further thought, it is also implied that he has no fantasies about her, either. The one time that we see Sheppard dreaming about Teyla in the beginning of Search and Rescue (S05E01), his brain has converted a memory of McKay into Teyla so as to save him from dying when he regains consciousness and the realization that he had killed McKay, as he understood what had just happened, finally hits him. His one dream about Teyla was not really about Teyla. Sheppard also emphasizes the word "won't" here, letting her know that it is the furthest thing from his mind. He does not have that kind of thoughts about her and she can rest easy.

Teyla calls him John here, and she is clearly fucking with him. It is payback not so much for what happened but for him making her go through the awkwardness of this moment right here. It is uncomfortable for her and so she wants to make it as uncomfortable as possible for him too because turnabout is fair play. If they have to have this discussion, and they both suppose they do, they might as well go all in. But note that this is not a moment for Sheppard and Teyla. As mentioned previously, we have seen Teyla call him John previously (e.g., in Condemned, S02E05). She does not have a problem calling him John when she thinks the occasion calls for it, whether they are on the clock or off. His issues with who calls him what and when is not with her at all. It was because he feels all kinds of ways about McKay calling him Colonel that he had this whole episode with Teyla while his brain was being taken over by insect instinct in the first place.

They are not made closer by having undergone this experience, what Sheppard is trying to do here is to repair when he thinks might have been broken, he attempts to get them back to where they were before, and with everything he has experienced with McKay since the start of the season, he knows just how difficult that can be. While she seems to let out a breath as she leaves, glad that this is over and done with, Sheppard instead looks sad. Where Teyla had meant to tease him and he gets that, she also reminded him of why the thing with his name is causing him so much hurt when it comes to McKay. He knows that no one will bat an eye if she calls him John, regardless of context, because they are not like that. But the man that he loves can never be heard saying it in public. And that is the goddamn problem.

So why is the episode called "Conversion"? A conversion is defined as a change in someone or something's form, character or function. What happens to Sheppard in the episode is explicitly called a "transformation" by Beckett, that is the physical process he undergoes. Conversion commonly refers to a change in one's religious beliefs or a change from one faith to another, a change in one's religious association. The next most common use of the word is in the conversion of computer files and software from one format to another or the conversion of units or currencies from one to another, as one might between the US and Canada. In an abstract sense, that is what happens to Sheppard. Sheppard's DNA is altered so that he changes from human to insect. But if the reference was merely to Sheppard's physical state, metamorphosis might have been a more accurate term. Because the episode is paired with Instinct (S02E07), where there is an attempt at using a therapeutic in curing a teenager from a condition that society condemns, conversion therapy is also an obvious referent, although the episodes function as cross-references: Instinct plays with the themes of conversion therapy and praying the gay away where Conversion plays with instincts, drives and base desires.

In 1995 Brad Wright, the executive producer of the show, had written a "a very strange Outer Limits episode" entitled The Conversion. In it, a man is taught a life lesson by beings that are part alien, part mystical, not unlike the Ancients. One of the beings teaches the main character that all choices have consequences, and that in hurting others he is also hurting himself. For every human act, there is a moment of decision. A single thought, a breath, a heartbeat after which all possible outcomes narrow to one.

When Sheppard was brought out of his medical coma, he asked Weir whether he hurt anyone. The main character, Henry, asks this same question in the episode, because he thought that he had shot people at his former place of employment. The being tells him that he had not because they had replaced the people with some kind of meat puppets so where he thought he had committed an act of terrible violence, he had not actually managed to hurt anyone. Where he wanted justice, he had not wanted to hurt anyone. This is a clear point of connection between the episodes.

Henry is in a lot of pain both physically and mentally, and the being takes his wound unto itself to give him a second chance. They have the following exchange:

Henry: I know, deep down, I'm not a bad person. Being: Do you think I'm here to judge you, Henry? Henry: Deep down I know, I know-- Being: Henry… Henry: --I'm a good person! Being: You are. Henry: I am. Being: Yeah. So be it! He has friends. That's real wealth. What have you got, Henry? Henry: What have I got..?

The real treasure are the friends we make along the way. That is one of the lessons of the episode for Sheppard. That is something that he needed to learn. His friends care about him. With both Ronon and Teyla there was a clear choice that Sheppard had made to help them that had changed everything for both, that had led to the creation of this bond between them. But with McKay, it had not been Sheppard that had made the choice. It was McKay that had made the choice in Hide and Seek (S01E03) that had changed everything for him forever. McKay had saved him. Him.

The episode makes a reference to a poem or haiku by Paul Reps that he wrote on the eve of the Korean War. Where it has multiple interpretations, one of them is about the interconnected nature of the universe. The choices we make have effects that ripple far beyond our control or comprehension.

The first time that Sheppard and Teyla meet, she offers him tea that he accepts as a sign of friendship. Sheppard tells her, "I love a good cup of tea. Now there's another thing you know about me. We're practically friends already!" Where Sheppard's choice here led to them waking the wraith from their slumber, it would also eventually lead to their defeat (or would have, if the show had ever properly finished). While it seemed like an inconsequential action, it had effects that rippled throughout the entire narrative arc. Because Sheppard and Teyla are friends, and their friendship is one of the fundamental forces driving the story. And that is why it is important for Sheppard to re-establish that here. And their friendship is important in the way that it also shows us what is not friendship. It highlights that close relationship Sheppard has that is not friendship, and never will be.

The Outer Limits episodes usually have some kind of a lesson at the end of the episode. The outro of The Conversion tells us:

A second chance. But a redemption follows not a change of body but a change of heart.

And that is what happens to Sheppard in this episode. His body undergoes a transformation but it is not his body that is changed as a result, it is his heart. His clothes here are merely symbolic of this internal change. Having survived this, he gets a second chance and for the rest of the season we watch him try to find his way back to McKay, to that place where they were before the hurt. He can finally see light in the horizon.

[nalyra-dreaming]

In response to this ask: https://www.tumblr.com/nalyra-dreaming/765370193149034496/hey-nalyra-i-was-wondering-does-lestat-have-a

Considering the obvious plans of having the amc series interact with each other at some point I would really like one of the Mayfair witches to have a best friend thing with Lestat. Rowan, since she's already been established and if I'm not mistaken has a fling with Lestat too. Since that whole ass arc has been deleted they could insert her in another way and then have her go back to the MW and have this off screen friendship with Les.

Or Merrick, since he seems to care for her. Instead of killing her off they could keep her and make her a supporting character for the Loustat vs talamasca mess and then have her transition to MW.

Or, if we want to avoid all of that crossover bother, Jesse could be nice. The roots for a friendship with Lestat are there from the qotd movie, as ass as it was. She too would be a nice addition to the Loustat vs talamasca arc Rolin seems to want to make. But who knows. Thoughts?

To be honest I get OP for the question because it's really sad for Lestat to never have a bestie that is just his. Reading fanfics especially, Daniel is always Louis' token bestie while Lestat is always kind of there, alone, or with Armand as a sort of friend which, idk. It’s something that makes you realize just how isolated Lestat, besides Louis, is, and I think a friend that is just his, or is friends with everyone else but very obviously chooses him as a bestie, like Daniel for Louis, would be very nice. So l'd love to know who'd you think would be the perfect fanfic bestie or future bestie for Lestat, since we’re here :)

It would be nice if the show would choose to build up Jesse, Merrick or Rowan, yes, especially, since we can always use more vampiresses or witches, right?^^.

That said, I don't quite see Rowan or Merrick there. IF one of them, then Jesse. He trusts Jesse, and meets with her and David later on, that could be easily be built on (and yes, the movie, I mean... *coughs*).

However, I chewed a bit on this and... I think Lestat could find a real friend - a real friend - in Gregory (Gregory Duff Collingsworth).

Gregory seems to "see" him, in the books at least. It will be interesting if they introduce him in the show, but in the books Gregory is a true ancient, but very much rooted in humanity, and navigating it successfully. And he also cares for Lestat, and offers support, he knows when Lestat needs it, too. I think that there is something there that could be true friendship, eventually. With benefits even, since Gregory shares his blood with Lestat, but for some reason it's not... "that" level.

Gregory is also the head of the pharmaceutical empire that Fareed is also working in/using later on... since Fareed has already been introduced as a doctor I am quite tickled by the possibilities, tbh.

And, agreed - Lestat could use a friend.

And Gregory would be on his level later on - and also laid back enough - to be that.

So, after mulling this over for a while :), I'm going with Gregory, for book canon.

But I'd also like Jesse. I wonder if we'll see her at the end of season 3, since she is at Lestat's concert, too. And later on she'd definitely be on a similar level, too. So...

(Ugh, I cannot wait what the show might do. :))

[kaesaaurelia]

Thinking about the temple I went to briefly in college where a minyan was "any ten willing adults who made it here despite the weather -- sometimes we only get eight, though" because it was Central Illinois and they were mostly interfaith families, vs the shittiness of my mom's childhood rabbi who said he'd marry my parents without requiring my father to convert, then like three months before the wedding said, "Oh, actually I don't do interfaith couples." Thinking about the girl who deadass got up in front of my French class and argued passionately that every country in the world should follow rabbinical law (which version? idk, her version) and try boys old enough to be bar mitzvah'd as adults so they would be subject to the death penalty. Thinking about how exposure to that one single Central Illinois temple's idea of a minyan would've killed her stone dead.

Thinking about the neighbors that lectured my parents about "not raising me right" because we had a Christmas tree so I was clearly not being raised Jewish, and the next year, thinking about how my parents got the most obnoxious neon blinky star and put the tree in the window that faced their house. Thinking about my dad's family that kept giving me Jesus-themed presents for Christmas until we stopped talking to them, who could never acknowledge that my mother had a law degree. (Thinking about how my great-grandmother on my mother's side got her doctorate in French literature after her first husband died and she married her second husband, who was a rabbi. Exposure to my mother's mother's family would've killed my dad's family stone dead too, maybe.)

Thinking about how I grew up being made fun of for not "looking Jewish" even though that's not how anything fucking works, but my mom was adopted and didn't convert, so to lots of people she's not really Jewish and neither am I. Thinking about how in middle school my best friend (also Jewish, no adoption history) and I used to be mistaken for twins (so I do look Jewish, even though that's not how anything works), and about how now she and one of her other best friends (white Latina, like my mom's biological mom) are mistaken for sisters. Thinking about how both of us signed my friend's ketubah when she got married even though her other look-alike friend is goyisch, because the sweet old lady from her temple who was going to sign it got lost on the way to the lodge and, it being an interfaith wedding in rural Illinois, all the other Jews who got there that early were related to her. The rabbi said she considered it valid as long as the signers were unrelated adults, and as a female rabbi I assume she also has faced her share of accusations of Not Good Enough.

Thinking about how recently I had to explain to my doctor how I, a white woman, could have sickle cell trait. My doctor seemed shocked and appalled that an interracial union could produce pale-skinned descendants. Thinking about how my whole life has been an exercise in arguing about how little biological ancestry matters until suddenly it does -- suddenly it's a medical issue you're facing, a mystery kidney condition where they can't diagnose it and you maybe get a kidney removed for no reason and continue to suffer on and off (what happened to my biological grandmother), or, if you're lucky, you have a heads up that the doctor isn't very good and can convince him to hold off on the operation long enough for the Afro-Caribbean intern who knows his shit and has seen this before, to diagnose you properly (what happened to my mom), or you're me, thankfully you just have chronic anemia, mention the sickle cell trait, are disbelieved at first, and then are lectured by your doctor about the primary danger of sickle cell trait: if you have children (presumably with a white man) you are going to have to explain this VERY CLEARLY to him beforehand so he knows you didn't cheat on him, because why would he trust you?

(Thinking about the nurse who told my mom I might "come out black" because she had sickle cell trait, and how my mom had to be prepared to defend her fidelity to my dad.)

Kidney issues? Anemia? Well. I guess angry husbands are a greater health risk to women, after all.

(Thinking about all the times my mom has had to fight for barely adequate medical care; about how many times she has argued with the doctors, half-conscious, about one of her various life-threatening conditions, and forced them to listen for once to the sick fat woman who thinks she knows things; about how many times I could have never been born if she hadn't argued. And thinking about how hard it was to be raised by someone who still to this day can never acknowledge she might be wrong, and I'm not saying this justifies what she did to me, but goddamn, if I'd been fighting for consciousness that many times to yell about insulin or whatever, I'd be hard-pressed to back down, too. I'm not planning to have kids, by the way; the kidney issues are way more likely. Not that he asked.)

Thinking about my great-grandfather the rabbi and his ham bone seder, there being no other bones available for the seder plate in that town in rural North Carolina, and then I feel I have to clarify, no, he was my step-great-grandfather, and my mom was adopted, I'm not really related enough to him to claim him as an ancestor. But then again, what kind of rabbi would look at a ham bone on a seder plate and say it was good, and then look at me and say we're not family? I might not look like him, I'll never know, but I know my mother takes after him because we had a dog toy on the seder plate once and if that's not likeness I don't know what is. I don't think he ever doubted his own Jewishness; some of his family fled the Spanish Inquisition. But I think he'd think I was Jewish enough.

I don't know Hebrew and I didn't grow up going to temple, because that one rabbi sucked and all the other temples in town -- and we were arguably spoiled for choice -- were much more rigid in their interpretations of the rules. I never got bat mitzvah'd or even confirmed. Most damningly, I hate arguing. But I can, and I will, and I come from a long line of people who had to argue to survive, and also one guy who got caught in the middle of hog farm country and had to put together an unplanned Seder. And so, I think, if the ham bone was good enough, and any ten adults who made it to temple in a blizzard can be enough, probably so am I.

(Thinking about the time when I was four or so and learning to set the table, and I asked my father -- who is not Jewish -- why it was important that the forks be straight, and he said, "It's so they know we're Jewish." That one isn't a deep thought, my dad is just a troll. But I was probably eight or nine before I was like "hang on, that doesn't seem right..." and when I got older and tried to read the whole Torah for myself, I kept a sharp eye out for mentions of silverware.)

[onceandfutureoshainspector]

Cat: Are you happy here? Li: You'd think being surrounded by cutting edge laboratory equipment and some of the greatest minds the world's ever known would be enough. Only problem is the lack of transparency. I don't think we get the full story on everything that occurs down here.

- oh? dish, girl, i'm all ears.

Li: What does that have to do with why we're talking? Cat: The Brotherhood needs your help, Doctor. Li: Needs my help? Why? They seemed to have everything under control when I left. Cat: Did you abandon any projects you wanted to complete? Li: You should know better than to ask me that. If they didn't tell you what I was working on, they didn't want you to know. I'm certainly not going to put my neck on the line and spread their dirty little secrets.

- rats! my powers of unbeatable charisma have failed me! i'd forgotten how frustrating that is!

Li: Why would I possibly want to come crawling back to the Brotherhood? What reason would I have to throw away everything I've accomplished here?

- "trust me"? greatest damn lawyer alive, and /that's/ the best i've got? nah, too easy.

Cat: I give up. What would it take to convince you? Li: All right, I'll play your game. I had a colleague down here… a Doctor Virgil.

- oh you've got to be kidding me.

Li: Several months ago, there was an accident in his lab, and he was killed.

- was he, now?

Li: I wanted to help with the investigation, but Father had the laboratory sealed, saying that it was contaminated. The incident never sat right with me. The more I asked about it, the more I felt like Father was deflecting my questions. If you bring me solid information on what killed him, I'll take it as a favor from the Brotherhood, and consider your offer. Do we have a deal?

- well, the good news is that good buddy Burce has recently been un-Banninged, so theoretically we could just go for a little field trip. i don't think she'll go for that, though, and getting Virgil back into this hellhole seems even less likely.

Cat: I know this may come as a shock, but Doctor Virgil is still alive. I met him myself.

- it just occurred to me to hope that we're not being listened to right now. whoops.

Li: Oh, please. Do you really think a cheap tactic like that is going to work on someone like me? Stop trying to avoid the legwork by lying. Either you get me the evidence or we have nothing else to talk about.

- well, it was worth a shot. plan b: this Holotape which i actually forgot i was carrying and am really glad i didn't accidentally leave in Sanctuary when i last cleaned out my inventory.

Cat: I already have something that might convince you. Li: How did you…?

- "yOu ShOuLd KnOw BeTtEr ThAn To AsK mE tHaT" :p

Li: Never mind, just let me see what you've got. Cat: Here you go.

Holotape: Virgil: I'm going to make sure the whole program is shut down. If not for good, then at least for years to come. After that… I know what I'm about to do will be seen as a betrayal. Treason, he'll probably call it. So… I'm leaving. I have a plan… and if it works, I'll be somewhere safe. Somewhere not even the Coursers can find me.

Li: They… lied to me. They lied to me, and I didn't even realise how far it went. All those years of loyalty… for nothing.

- good to have confirmation that Shaun is not to be fucking trusted, which i already knew. wait, did i say "good"?

Cat: No matter how badly it hurts, you needed to hear the truth.

- shut up ghost of DiMA past she asked me directly to investigate it's not the same thing shut up shut up

Li: And for that, I thank you. I came to the Institute to get away from the Brotherhood… from the whole world. I just wanted to do my research in peace. Father took me in and gave me access to cutting edge technology that I only dreamed existed. Li: I became jaded. I thought that the Institute cared. That they wanted to better mankind. Maybe, in their own twisted way, they still do. But now I realise if you can't trust the people you're working for, then it's all pointless. If they lied about Doctor Virgil, who knows what else they've been lying about… or what their plans are for my work.

- well said! now, have you ever heard of a group called the Railroad-

Li: I'll make my way back to the Brotherhood, but I'm going to have to do it on my own. I can't take any chances being seen with you.

- honestly, appreciated. i don't want to be ousted as an infiltrator yet, either.

Li: Tell whoever sent you that they've just regained the services of Doctor Madison Li.

- mission accomplished.

[usermischief]

sure! i'll like to see the headcanons still or your wips, i'm not picky

Great! Sorry, it took me a little bit, I didn't have the best couple of days. Anyway, here are my thoughts:

The pack was at least 60% of Stiles' impulse control. Mostly because he knew he'd get kicked out when he did something morally questionable. His dad is 20%. The other 20% are just untameable.

While Stiles isn't per se a terrible person or even a killer, with remnants of Void "unleashed" inside of him, Stiles would be a lot more cutthroat. Killing might not be his first option, but violence is — especially if their enemy incites violence.

Without the pack, Stiles has only himself and his dad to answer to, and Sheriff understands that the supernatural world cannot follow the same laws humans do.

Theo does not have an easy time when he comes to Beacon Hills. Although he doesn't care what Theo's intentions with the pack are (after all, they've abandoned him), Stiles doesn't trust him — and he's not stalking him this time. He'd probably drag him somewhere or find a way to lock him up for a proper interrogation.

Stiles ignores the mating bond. Theo chases it.

Stiles kills Donovan in self-defense this time. He's still not feeling good about it, but he calls his dad after it happened.

When Stiles learns it was Theo who sent Donovan after him, Theo is not having a fun time, but he manages to talk himself out of it. That's also when the two start working together.

After that, Theo tells about his plan to get a pack and become an alpha. He also tells him about the Dread Doctors. Theo's plan still consists of killing Scott to become alpha in the beginning. Stiles doesn't help him, but he doesn't stop him either.

Stiles joins Theo's pack after that and accepts the mating bond. Although Theo considers himself an alpha, he never thinks of Stiles as his beta. They're equals from the beginning.

They try to keep the other chimeras save, but fail as well. The sheriff is a lot more involved this time around as well.

Parrish figures out what he is a lot sooner because Theo knows about him.

Theo and Stiles are extremely protective of each other. Stiles would go full-on Scarlet Witch if anything were to happen to Theo. He's very protective of the chimeras as well once they join their pack.

Stiles is the one who finds the nemeton because he's still aware of the connection he has to it.

Kira joins them after Theo told her that she's been lied to (about her fox and how it behaves)

When Theo gets hurt by the beast, Stiles absolutely loses it. The only person who can talk Stiles down is Theo himself.

Because of his dark kitsune powers (dark kitsune powers are able to summon and (maybe) potentially control "creatures of the darkness") is able to force the beast to turn back into a human.

The pack is an absolute mess, but they're working through it.

Kira returns to Beacon Hills and doesn't leave again.

Stiles demands Deucalion be killed (which then leads Theo to become an alpha).

These are in no particular order. I just wrote down what came to mind (and some stuff I remembered from my WIP lol)

[dumbestthingiveeverheard]

Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 8/3/2023

Fifth place: Twitter user @eyeskewer

This is a little older than the stuff I normally cover on this blog, but I feel like this is worth highlighting as it perfectly shows my issue when many who make conspiratorial claims about transgender medical care:

my "informed consent" was my doctor I had just met handing me papers telling me my voice would drop soon, I could freeze my eggs, I might get acne, and whatever else. I probably didn't even hear everything she said, I just told her I wanted the shot. so I got it. I just turned 18

So you were told you wanted something medical done to you, were told about the risks and consequences, and then got it. I really don't see what the big deal is here.

Fourth Place: Marco Rubio

Elon Musk's time as CEO of Twitter has been far from perfect, but easily the best addition he has made is the community notes feature. For just one example, here is a Tweet from Marco Rubio:

Also, those claims about the 2016 Presidential Election were never proven to be fake--just wanted to add that real quick.

Third Place: Scott Lively

The deranged homophobe who wrote an entire book blaming the Nazis on homosexuality wrote a column a couple of days back with the headline "Leftist lawfare and the abuse of power." A decent chunk of it is spent defending Russian President Vladimir Putin, but here are some highlights:

In all my years of watching corporate U.S. news about Russia and Putin, I have never seen a single counter-argument ever being offered in defense of President Putin (coverage of him is even worse than that of Trump). It's been more than a decade since Obama restarted the Cold War to punish the Russians for banning "gay" propaganda to children, when every story began to paint him as a "brutal monster" – to the point that even many conservatives (who have zero reason to trust that same media on anything) seem to agree.

The hatred of Putin on an international scale has nothing to do with the anti-homosexuality laws he has put in place while President of Russia--although, don't get me wrong, that didn't help matters, but several countries with anti-homosexuality laws are still seen in a positive light by the international community (wrongfully so, in my opinion). It was more his imperial ambitions--starting with his invasion of Georgia in 2008--that caused the international community to move away from him.

Second Place: Abby Johnson

I've mostly been ignoring the story about a handful of far-right Christians refusing to support the fringe Presidential candidate Vivek Ramaswamy because of his Hinduism, however given Abby Johnson was sold to us a few years back as a a reasonable anti-abortion activist--an oxymoron if I've ever heard one. And she has decided to take a stance against a Hindu President, saying:

Do not be a victim of Satan’s confusion right now. This is an important time for us to have clarity of mind as we are going into an election cycle. So please discern. Please use discernment right now because God hates those who are willing to put up idols over him, and he will not be mocked.

All I wish to say is that if you really want a President that's a dedicated Christian--can I recommend you a guy named Joe Biden? Oh who am I kidding, if Ramaswamy does get the nomination it's going to be just like when Billy Graham took Mormonism off his list of cults so he and his followers could vote for Mitt Romney in 2012.

Winner: Ben Shapiro

This man, considered by many to be serious political commentator, does not know the difference between eating and drinking:

[Trump] would face a whopping 641 years in prison. Which I assume means he would not survive prison. Although he is 70% preservatives at this point because he eats so much McDonalds and Diet Coke.

He eats Diet Coke? Ben, do you know how Diet Coke works?

Ben Shapiro you've said the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

[quartervois]

@whitesuited

“if you were a SHIELD medic, that would have killed, by the way,” her nose crinkles a little when he gently hooks a finger around a stray wave of blonde to inspect what it’s been hiding underneath ————- more or less the full extent of expressions she’s able to currently make without some part of her face stinging in protest. “they think i’m hilarious.” ( they also think she’s too reckless for her own good and stubborn to a fault, but she begs to differ. ) but because it’s mulder and not the aforementioned SHIELD medic looking her over, she’s trying her best to stay still and cooperate; a task she’s already finding challenging based on the way her hands alternate from knotting in her lap to grabbing hold of the couch he’s got her sitting on.

she exhales a laugh, even if it means feeling the pinch - tug in her forehead long after she finishes that breath ———– the idea that she’s somehow the x - file when the company she keeps probably has their own subsection over there at the FBI.

       “for the record, i’m taking that as a compliment,” of all the monikers she’s collected over the years, walking x - file is definitely up there. “i suppose that means this” she has to gesture as best she can with her eyes; bright blues lifted in the direction of where he’s working, “should be right in your wheelhouse then.”

for a moment she debates insisting she’ll patch herself up now that he’s done the ironically dirty work of getting her cleaned up ——- it certainly won’t be the first time she’s sat down on a bathroom countertop and leaned into the mirror with a needle and thread. instead, she’s feigning offense with an over - the - top scoff ( at least as much of a recoiled reaction as her face will allow, yet again ) when he suggests no one’s going to notice a few mislaid rows of stitches.

       “so what are you saying there, agent? no more honeypot missions for me?”

"𝘐𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘞𝘖𝘜𝘓𝘋 𝘉𝘌 𝘔𝘠 𝘚𝘌𝘕𝘚𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘖𝘙," 𝘍𝘖𝘟 𝘑𝘖𝘒𝘌𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛𝘓𝘠, "𝘐'𝘔 𝘕𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙 𝘑𝘖𝘐𝘕𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘚𝘏𝘌𝘐𝘓𝘋." There's the breath of a smile on the agent's lips, however, because he does find Sharon's dry and hit-or-miss sense of humor amusing. Just not laugh-til-you-hurt amusing. His touch is gentle and soft despite his rough fingertips. At times like this, he wished he had Scully around. She was a doctor, after all, and had helped him a lot with the damages of their duties. But, she was in a different department now and the X Files were ( temporarily ) decomissioned. The limbo between then and when the X Files would be reinstated was dragging and more than once, Fox had considered bothering Sharon about how to possibly join SHIELD. It seemed like the perfect place to pursue his interests but she had been rather secretive about what exactly the organization investigated and entailed.

Another government secret he was interested in exposing.

Sharon was a friend, however, and he didn't pry. Mind constantly buzzing with questions and observations about what, admittedly, little he had about SHIELD made being around her almost infuriatingly frustrating but he hoped in time she'd trust him enough to share. Certainly did seem more exciting if he were honest.

"Not much in the way of X Files, anymore," he admitted bitterly, "I am officially decommissioned. At least," a subtle tilt of his head as if shrugging without moving his shoulders, "--- the X Files are. Skinner made the decree a week ago and I am bored out of mind. Has me on tapes." His tone expresses, not only his absolute boredom with the charge of transcripting, but his hatred of it. He wanted his office back. He wanted his X Files back.

The stitches are less than tidy and he's sure there might be a small scar but they'd hold. As long as Sharon didn't get too energetic with doing her hair. "Do a lot of honey pot stings there in SHIELD, do ya?" Fox teased as he tided up the dried blood to her forehead and very tenderly placed a bandage over the stitches to keep them dry. "Some kind of boudaire stealth ops?" The boyish grin he was known for in school came back full force as his bright eyes found Sharon's with a chuckle both audible and evident in the way his gaze sparkled with mischief. He couldn't help it. The idea of Sharon whooping ass in some scandalous nighty made him laugh. "Maybe you should change departments, save yourself the humiliation."

[originaltyphoonkryptonite]

Chapter 25: Planning

Zella pov

"Well I......", I start to say.

"It's OK Zelly. We're behind you.", Dick says as he gives my shoulders a squeeze.

"Honestly...........I think it would be best to meet them at least ONCE. And maybe learn a bit of grandma's side of the family.....I...just....."

"I understand", Bruce says as he gets up from his chair to take the spot Gus was sitting down on. "After your experience with your...'mother', you would be hesitant to meet more family that just suddenly appeared."

"That and......just this feeling..that I NEED to visit their home....as if something was calling me."

"Calling you?"

"It's....kinda hard to explain....but I am getting this gut feeling that I NEED to find something there."

"Alright....they said she doesn't have to revel her secret identity right?", he asks Dick.

"That's right.....I don't think they can tell from our shadows either."

"What makes you say that?", Duke asks.

"I saw from the corner of my eye, one of them sent a shadow to touch mine, and considering they didn't say my real name, I don't think they know who Batman and his family is either."

"Oh.....I might know why....", I say while biting my lip.

"Yeah?"

"I may have...asked Zatanna to help work on finding a way to block info from getting gathered from your shadows with me......So she and Cippia made shadow charms that he then placed in your shadows.....sorry if I overstep. I...just thought what if we face a foe with shadow powers that could find out who you are by gathering intel from your shadows......"

I blink as I hear Bruce chuckle. "What?", I ask.

"If you weren't already married to Dick, I would be helping Alfred and Gus in trying to set you two up. Or if that didn't work......figure out a way to adopt you. You didn't overstep don't worry."

"Oh come on Old man.", Jason groans. "You already have enough kids, not to mention a grand-kid on the way."

"Zella does deserve better then Grayson though..........what? I can not call her Grayson as well.......and I do find her much more tolerable then the rest of you, with the exceptions of Pennyworth and Hodges.", Damian says with a smirk as the other stare wide eyed at him.

"I thought you only called her by the first name to make a point to that doctor!", Jason cries out shocked.

"See! Zella is meant to be in this family!", Steph cries out with Cass nodding beside her. "She got Damian to call her by her first name!"

Duke and Tim are just snicking.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bruce pov

"Back to the matter at hand.", I start to say. "Zella is right...we should at least meet them once.....if nothing else to make sure they have nothing planed against her."

"Right B,", Dick says as he kisses Zella's side of her head.

"If they are willing to be family with her, then alright. But if not......well...I am sure I can get Mother to do something about them staying away.", Damian says with a smirk.

"Let's just leave that as a last resort type of plan.", I say. "Anyway, I'll ask Batwoman, Huntress, Batwing, Bluebird, and Superman to watch over Gotham and Bludhaven."

"Wait why?", Jason asks.

"Simple.", I say with a smirk. "Dick, Zella, Cippia, and I will be meeting them. And be the ones to go to Germany should it come to that."

"What?!",' No way!", "Unfair", "Aww.", Lame!", Damian, Tim, Jason, Duke, and Steph say all at once.

Cass says nothing but she is frowning as she gives two thumbs down.

"Trust me, it's for the best that the ones who go is a small number."

"But why do I have to stay behind father?", Damian asks. "I would think Cippia would like me to come with."

"Might as well B.", Dick sighs. "He'll just bribe Cippia to bring him with anyway...."

"Fine...you can come as well Damian."

I chuckle when I hear Zella giggle and Damian sticking his tongue out at his siblings. "We'll go looking for them tomorrow night. Zella, can Cippia stay in your shadow and use his powers to make it look like you still have yours?"

"He can Bruce, we did that once before when I was sick for patrol."

"Wait.....are you talking about that night about a month before you rescued me with Artemis and Barbra?! You went on patrol while sick!? Please tell me you aren't doing that right now while pregnant!", Dick exclaims.

"Yes but only because it was a slight fever and well you needed the help that night, so many bad guys to take out at that time. And no, I have not been doing that. Gus and Alfred already gave me a lecture about it the next morning after our wedding when I went to the kitchen to get a early breakfast. So Phantasma is benched until I get a clear bill of health from Leslie."

"That's good.", he says as he let's out a sigh of relief.

I just chuckle as I pat his shoulder. "Now you know what I felt when raising you.....well.......you will soon when the kid is born......it's going to be fun watching you having to deal with what is basically a younger you like I did."

"Yeah. Just...no spoiling the kid please? That goes for everyone."

"I have no idea what you mean, chum."

"Not like you can stop all of us Dickwing.", Jason says with a smirk.

"Remind me WHY I want you guys around my kid again?"

"Because you love us.", Steph says with a smirk. "So teaching the kid to make chaos with their powers."

"Teach them to be stealthy.", Cass says with a smile.

"Hey maybe when they're older, they can be a day time hero with me.", Duke suggests.

"We'll see. But that might not be a bad idea should they want to join the family business.", I say with a thoughtful look. "Might be a good way to see if they want to see what it is like, and go from there."

"Let's wait until they are at least maybe ten?", Zella asks. "No sooner unless no other choice and no way at age five! Am I clear?"

I smile as I hug her. "Crystal clear Zella."

[brooklynislandgirl]

She hears that subtle curl of tongue around the word 'they'. She's said it herself more times than she can count inside of her own head, her outward demeanour demure and pliant as she was raised to be. She has dictated it into her private journals. She has screamed it in the depths of the void inside her own heart where no one could hear her grief and rage. There are many words like that. Wrapped tightly in iron chains of emotion that she's learned how to swallow without choking on. But he doesn't spit them out. In fact, he doesn't say much at all. She searches for some kind of nuance but he reminds her of staring out at a view port; she can see the gleam of intellect, the ageless passing of a life removed from others, but the dark is close. It lives and breathes in some sort of imposed isolation, though she can't tell if it is something he chooses or something that is forced upon him. He is space. Cool. Imposing. Distant. A note that she will not include in her findings today, possibly ever. They ask her for factual data. She is not a trained psychologist, they have counsellors for that. They do not care to hear fanciful suppositions. She isn't sure she'd want to share even if they did. She offers him her most bland, inoffensive smile. It lives and dies on her lips only briefly, never showing teeth. "Do you want to be?" This is a critical question. First impressions are important and he's had a few seconds to make his mind up about her. If he finds her off-putting, or maybe she smells weird ~no matter how sparingly little she wears, plumeria and sandalwood isn't for everyone~ or a multitude of other reasons then they're work cannot proceed. Her heart skips a beat and there is a hard pang in her chest. They might acquiesce to his desire, find him someone he is more amenable to work with, and she would be free to return to the earth, to her seas. But that is a treacherous thought. She cannot, in good conscience, sabotage their efforts. He holds a key to unimaginable amounts of possibilities, a way to synthesise cures that might save uncountable lives. That is another duty, a more genuine one. The preservation of lives. Of knowledge. What more noble thing could there be in the world, in the galaxy? She holds up a hand. "Sorry, that might have sounded disingenuous." It isn't like either of them have much choice, though all she knows is a matter of conjecture and half-whispers. She remembers a story from ancient history that vaguely swims up in her memory; she can't recall all the details but she remembers a man forced to wear a mask of iron while being imprisoned away from the world simply because his existence was considered dangerous. He doesn't have a mask, but it isn't that much different, is it? She turns her back on him. An olive branch. A show of preliminary trust. She steps softly toward a sitting table and chairs, not making a single sound other than the rustle of her tunic. "Is the lighting sufficient or would you prefer them to be dimmer?" Doctor McCoy has told her his senses are hyper-sensitive, and she finds the room far too bright for her own tastes. "And would you happen to like something to drink? Coffee maybe? Tea? I feel as though we're best starting at a clear baseline. Meaning I don't want to jump into blood draws and tissue analysis or anything so physically invasive. If you'd be so willing, I'd like to get some background; I'd like to know what your world was like, what your people were like. I'd like to know more about you as a person; habit, diet, sleep…but also things that may not seem important. What you might like to do to pass time, what you dream about…things that make you….you." Only then does she glance over her shoulder. "So if you'd be so willing, make yourself comfortable."

Then it occurs to her. She hasn't so much as introduced herself, and what a phenomenal breech of etiquette that is by most cultural standards, but especially her own. Once more she addresses him, a blink and then another. Neither of them fully close her lashes. "I do feel as though I ought to beg your pardon. I sort of…ah…got ahead of myself, and you. You see…I don't even actually know your name, and I think "Subject AMK-001" is absolutely atrocious. Sounds like a processor or other computer part. So if there's something you'd like me to call you, we can start there. And for you, I'm Doctor Elikap-" Elikapeka'ailine'alohaekauneikahanuola'Ilikea'wahine. A pause, slightly awkward in nature. Most people outside of the islands she calls home have difficulty pronouncing her name, even in part. The whole thing is a mouthful that is not only difficult but long. "Doctor Elizabeth Riley. You may call me what you like but I tend to prefer Beth." No motion forward to attempt to shake his hand. That is a privilege she hasn't earned yet, and won't until he consents.

Whether Khan has reached his desired goal or not, that he still has to find out, to determine based on his own expectations and what he's going to face in the near future; Because yes, he is here, he is back on board of the Enterprise, back after what has been a rather long (and definitely tiring) trial he's been facing over the course of weeks. Again and again he'd told his story, again and again he'd explained the things he's gone through, again and again he's faced humiliation not only from others doubting any of his words, from him having to relive what has happened back during his time at Section 31, but also from the security footage that was brought up as evidence to back up his claims.

Seeing himself being used as an experiment, going through cruel tests, hearing his own voice grunt and shout, sometimes scream, had taken a toll on him. Between those moments, next to the ones where people trying to defend Admiral Marcus were basically spitting on him, he'd resided in a cell, very much similar to the one he'd resided in for almost a whole year. He hadn't been allowed to go out, hadn't been allowed to do anything outside the four walls that had kept him inside... but at least he'd gotten food, medical care (albeit not needed) and had been treated rather humanely, all things considered.

And now? He's here. Captain Kirk as well as Mister Spock, and even Doctor McCoy, had spoken at the trial - all of their combined knowledge as well as the found evidence had, in the end, allowed Khan to leave with what could be considered a good-ending to a live-long story. Kirk's offer to take Khan upon the Enterprise had, surprisingly so, been accepted by court; Perhaps because they've seen what he can do, that he had designed a whole space-ship that had been two times the size and three times the speed of the Enterprise for as long as it had existed. That he had managed to make it much more efficient, riddled with improved technology humans hadn't achieved to control on such advanced levels yet.

And perhaps the fact that Khan had worked together with Captain Kirk, managed to literally fly through space with nothing on them both besides a space suit, entering the other ship and stopping Marcus from eradicating another ship's whole crew, had also greatly improved the likeness of them accepting the deal. A lot of factors to consider, a lot of good arguments to bring up - but without previously mentioned Kirk, Spock and McCoy speaking well of him, Khan's sure he still wouldn't have gotten the chance to be accepted as a living being rather than a world-ending killing machine.

Here he is, however. He's been allowed to be here. On probation, of course; In exchange for sharing his knowledge, for being of assistance wherever needed, for improving the Enterprise's systems and keeping people save should danger face them. Required to send a protocol down to earth every couple of weeks, telling what exactly he's been doing, why he's been doing it, and every single one of those protocols need to be signed by either Captain Kirk, Mister Spock or Doctor McCoy.

Next to all of that, he'd also offered to have medical professionals take a look at him; He's special, after all, his blood literally heals other people from almost every disease known to man. He's much faster, stronger, more durable than any human, his biology is similar yet different and his genes are perhaps something every doctor ever strifes to hold between their own fingers at some point of their lives. Everything is strictly confidental, obviously, since Admiral Marcus had already tried to use his interesting physique to create super soldiers made to be successful at a war against the Klingons---

---Well. As said, he's here now. More precisely so, Khan has just stepped into MedBay; Two security guards are with him, even though he's trusted, technically so. Perhaps they just want to make sure he's not going rogue from the very beginning; It's an improvement, because last time he'd been in MedBay, the Captain had asked six of those redshirts to be by his side at all times.

Now, though? As soon as they deliver him, they leave, and Khan is left behind standing in the middle of a room, facing a young woman that looks surprisingly... surprised to see him. As if she had expected something, or someone, else. He wonders what they'd told her he would be - perhaps they'd mentioned his heritage, his kin, the race he's belonging to, known to only the most important Starfleet Admirals, all files strictly forbidden to ever be looked into. For other people, said race is only just a rumor, something parents tell their children at night to make them behave and never do something stupid, because otherwise earth might be eradicated.

He knows she's waiting for him. There's no doubt about it.

"I'm exactly where they want me to be.", is what Khan decides to reply just after she's spoken; His expression is calm, collected, free of most emotions, his voice deep and sonorous, yet as even as the rest of him is. Blue eyes focus on her, linger on her own irises, take in the sight without faltering... or even blinking once, for the matter. He does not move either, just... keeps standing there.

"---And I'm positive that I am the one you expect to be here."

As disappointing as it might be to her - Khan is that precise patient she's been speaking about, looking the way he does; Less impressive than what her mind must have created when hearing about him.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Wildest dreams, pt. 5

Wildest dreams // part 2 // part 3 // part 4  

Summary: The soulmate bond is causing damage while Embry offers her a chance to find answers.

—————————————————–

With a disappointed sigh, Y/N walked toward Embry once more. It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy spending time with him, because she truly does, it’s that she finds an emptiness in her heart that’s been growing with each day and she cannot help but wonder if that empty feeling that started ten days ago somehow coincides with the fact that’s precisely how long it’s been since she last saw the most annoying womanizer she has the displeasure of knowing.

Paul and Y/N never saw eye to eye on many things in the past – they could barely agree on the most mundane things, but lately they’ve seemed to forge their own world where things they’d argue about made sense. It’s as if there was a language they invented along the way, one that made them friends.

Biting her lower lip, she sends Embry a small wave as she approaches him. There is no reason why he should suffer unpleasantries just because she decided that she might care about Paul Lahote. It certainly isn’t something she expected or welcomed, but as time goes by, she’s finding it impossible to deny it might be true.

“Hey!” Embry spreads his arms, his eyebrows shooting up as well. Grinning he waves his fingers excitedly, watching Y/N roll her eyes before finally giving in. His arms encase her swiftly and with no forgiveness, squeezing tightly.

“Ugh!” Y/N groans, tapping his shoulders.

“Awe, you love it!” Embry exclaims, his shit eating grin only widening as he releases her.

Winded, Y/N grimaces. “I’d love it more if I could breathe!”

Snorting, Embry rests his arm over her shoulders. “You used to love bear hugs!” Leading her to the passenger’s side, he opens the door for her. “Wasn’t your rule a hug a day keeps the doctor away?”

Rolling her eyes, she sits. “It’s because I hated apples and wanted a nice substitute.”

“Well, I’m still doing my part to keep you healthy”, Embry winks before closing the door.

“Doesn’t work if I am the doctor!” She remarks.

Driving back, they cranked up the radio. It’s one of the rare teenage habits they could still share, loving a good song enough to scream sing to. They’d laugh hard enough that Y/N could swear she felt her abs coming in. 

There is a familiarity between them that time couldn’t erase, something she knows is untouchable.

She can’t help but be bitter about the way their friendship ended all those years ago nor about the lack of explanations she finds in the present, but in moments like these, Y/N refuses to dwell on the burning scars their friendship left across her heart.

Every day was like this back then, just laughs and a sense of security, of trust – the one he betrayed. For a long time, Y/N directed her hatred onto Embry for he was the first of the three to join the cult. 

First it was Embry, then Jacob and eventually Quil followed too.

Not one of them ever thought about explaining things to her. Not one of them considered apologizing for abandoning her.

Shaking her head, her eyes close as the car comes to a stop. Despite her best efforts to let things go, she can’t fight the gnawing questions that chip away at her sanity.

“Did you miss me”, she turns to Embry who raises a brow in confusion.

“Since last night?”

Licking her lips, she gives a light shake of her head. “When you joined Sam?”

Turning away, Embry’s hold on the wheel tightens. He’s silent, but she can hear his uneven breathing.

“I mean, you just stopped talking to me, you wouldn’t even look at me.” Chuckling meekly, she shrugs innocently. “I was heartbroken over you.”

“I want to tell you”, Embry glances at her before looking at his pale knuckles. “I wish I could with all my heart, but this isn’t on me. I cannot –“, he huffs in frustration before taking his hands off the wheel. Rubbing his palms over his thighs, he turns to Y/N. “You need to ask the right person.”

Throwing her head back, she laughs at the irony. “Yeah”, she bites the left corner of her bottom lip. “I keep getting no answers despite who I ask.”

“Well”, Embry grabs her cellphone.

“HEY!” Y/N tries reaching for the phone, but Embry slaps her hand away playfully.

“I just want to help you”, Embry insists, refusing to give up the phone. “I’ll just”, he groans as Y/N keeps trying to pry it away from him. “WOMAN, STOPPPP!”

Breathing heavily, Y/N lets up with eyes narrow and trained on Embry.

“I’ll just put in a number for you to call”, Embry continues. “Actually, I’ll put two.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, she gnaws at the inside of her left cheek. “And who is it for?”

With a lopsided smirk, Embry tosses the phone on her lap. “That’s for you to find out, amiga.”

Rolling her eyes, she opens the door. “That’s literally the only Spanish word you know.”

“Maybe I learned more in your absence”, Embry teases as she slams the door of his car. 

Usually he’d remind her he’s not the one living off a doctor’s paycheck, but he allowed her to vent, even if the car is the one taking all the hits. At least he wasn’t her punching bag and Embry is fine with that.

Watching Embry peel off the driveway, Y/N rushed inside.

“Dad?” She calls out, but to no avail. Once again, he’s working overtime. It feels a little too familiar – he always worked himself to the bone since her mom died and it often felt like she had to raise herself. There was never a doubt her father loves her dearly, but she knows he never got over losing his soulmate.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Y/N fixed herself some dinner before retreating to her room. The sinking feeling in her heart never fails to make an appearance when her mother crosses her mind.

Her parents were so happy, so annoyingly in love that Y/N could never settle in her own relationships. Because of them, it’s become impossible to find the same kind of love they shared – the hand holding anywhere they went, the times she caught them dancing in the rain, the morning they chased each other with water guns around the yard, the way they looked at each other with so much tenderness they’d tear up.

How can she ever settle for any less? If that’s the prototype of love one grows up with, anything else is a miss. She never quite found her person. As depressing as it is, her best friend was the closest one.

Jacob always made her feel special – he’d make her laugh whenever she wanted to cry, bring her flowers every Sunday, give his half of French fries without her even asking because he knew that even if she didn’t order them she would love to have some. Jacob was the first boy she ever held hands with, the first one she danced with even though they stepped on each other’s feet so much that they ended up bickering.

“Guess what I have”, Jacob wiggles his eyebrows as Y/N’s eyes widen.

“NO WAY”, she squeals.

Nodding, Jacob grins. “Yes way!” He outstretches his arm, opening his palm.

Eyes wide, Y/N grabs the ticket swiftly. Double checking, she covers her mouth with her free hand. “These must have cost you a fortune!”

“It was nothing”, Jacob shrugs shyly. “I wanted to surprise you and you’ve been talking ‘bout this band for months.”

Jumping into his arms, Y/N knew it was a lot more than nothing. It means everything to her.

It’s painful just how many happy memories her past holds and the hurt intensifies when she realizes so many of them host either her parents or her best friend, none of who are with her now.

Picking at her bottom lip, she stares at the numbers Embry put into her phone. She might have lost Jacob, but she finally has a chance to find out why and Embry has given her the means to do so.

Dialing, the phone rings. Gnawing at the soft flesh on the inside of her bottom lip, she listens to the ring – once, twice, three times.

Then it stops.

Silence.

“Hello?” She swallows thickly as the silence continues. The only sound she feels is the beat of her unruly heart as her cheeks begin to burn. “Uh, I’m not entirely sure who I’m speaking to, but my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I believe you might be a key to answering questions that have been haunting me for years.”

She can hear the breathing on the other side of the call, but they do not respond.

“Please”, her voice breaks as her throat tightens. Eyes filling with tears, she lets out a shuddered breath. “Please.” She repeats calmly, but her voice is shaky.

Inhaling, her lips part so she can try and appeal to their better nature but before she can say another word the line cuts off.

Closing her eyes shut, tears begin forming. “Fuck”, she whimpers. Placing the back of her hand over her forehead, she sniffles. Shaking her head, with lips trembling, she dials the other number shakily.

Whoever that first asshole was, she might have better luck with the other number. Perhaps this time they will at least speak to her.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice on the call makes her eyes widen.

Sitting up instantly, Y/N blinks fast in panic. “Uh, hello”, she responds before smiling. “I, uh, got this number from a friend. They implied you may have some answers I’ve been searching for.”

“And who might you be?”

Chuckling nervously, Y/N scratches her forehead. “Oh, I’m so sorry. My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Ah, I know who you are.”

“You do?”

“My name is Emily”, the woman introduces herself as well. “Emily Uley.”

“As in”, Y/N pauses, “Sam Uley?”

“Indeed.”

Y/N can sense the smile on this woman’s face as she speaks to her. It’s…refreshing but also odd. How would she know about her? Did Embry talk about her to Sam? Or did…Could it have been Paul? The same Paul who has disappeared on her? The same Paul she’s been missing for some inexplicable reason to the point of dreaming about him every night?

“How about I help you find some of those answers”, Emily suggests and Y/N’s jaw drops.

She can’t miss this opportunity.

“Yes, of course. I’d be very grateful!”

With a breathy chuckle, Emily replies. “I’ll text you details on how to find my house. I’ll be there all day tomorrow.”

She’ll have to take the day off, the same one she picked up an extra shift for without telling anyone in order to try and walk home alone again. Either she’d get home alive or she wouldn’t be around to care about the fact she was murdered, but Y/N was tired of feeling like a burden to Embry. Soon enough, he would stop picking her up like Paul did and she didn’t want to be too dependent on them.

“That would be great”, Y/N confirms. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, she found herself with an inkling of hope. She’s close to finding out the truth she so desperately seeks and as the night swallows day, she sits at her window with the moon as a nightlight.

Wands of rising branches became dancing silhouettes in the moonlight, bringing about a comforting beauty she was always so fascinated by. Sleep creeps up on her as she rests her head on her pillow.

The sound of howling wolves doesn’t bother her, if anything it gives her a sense of security. If they are roaming the surrounding forest, perhaps the humanoid creature she saw in the woods that day wouldn’t dare look for her in this night.

She never quite stopped wondering what exactly she saw that day, but her heart knows Paul and Embry know what it is. If they know it, so does Emily and since neither of them will speak to her, she will sit down with Sam’s docile wife and find answers herself.

As Y/N falls asleep, she doesn’t hear the most prominent howl coming a few feet away from her house. A nervous Paul is looking to her window in hope of catching a glance or just a silhouette of his imprint. 

His paws are heavy, each step excruciatingly exhausting, but he’s come to her. He’s done so every night since he last left her side.

Eating has become a chore rather than a need, rest is increasingly impossible to achieve if he’s not close to her house and despite being a wolf unable to fall ill, he’s been experiencing flu like symptoms for too long to ignore.

It’s the imprint bond, Paul is aware. The need to be around Y/N is slowly draining him until the need is satisfied but Paul refuses to bend to what the ancestors want. He refuses to be weak like Sam was when he left Leah. There is nothing a strong mind cannot do and he proves it every single day.

He may not be able to escape the bond altogether, but he can resist it. He can protect her. If easing his own pain puts her in danger, Paul will rather burn. He will rather suffer. He will do anything not to see his vision come true.

Teenage Paul would never be able to persist as he does now. Maybe it’s because he’s older now, or it’s because the love he has for her is just too strong for him to ever risk her life. 

Just the sight of her makes him lose breath, he wishes he could be with her, to hold her, to worship her like she deserves to be worshipped, but he can’t.

He isn’t a teenager, he’s an adult and no matter how badly he desires her, he will do the right thing. 

For all the times he has failed her, for all the times he caused her pain, he will find a way to fix himself without bringing danger to her doorstep.

For her.

Always for her.

Tags: @the-chaotic-cow @xxxjaexxx @captainrogers-19 @bexloxl @laehlaluvs  @adaydreamaway08​ @sunsetevergreen​

PART 6

[cowboycakes]

Do You Get My Letters

✥ Pairing: Levi x fem!Reader, somewhat Reiner x fem!Reader

✥ Themes: Fluff, angst, sadness, big ass plot twist

✥ Warnings: Female bodied reader (she/her pronouns,) Pregnancy and birth (nothing gory.) Mentions of death, violence, and threats. Manipulation.

✥ Synopsis: You are carrying Reiner's baby when he betrays Paradis. Levi decides to step in.

✥ Word Count: 2.2k

(there is a part two up to this fic, but i've decided i'm going to rewrite the ending at some point.)

Anon's Request: Hi! I saw your requests are open so here I want to give my little scenario a try! 🕳🤸🏽‍♀️ I thought abt this last night, I’m currently rewatching AOT after 6 yrs and yet to finish season 4, so sorry if I’m wrong abt timelines/the plot? My request is the reader was with child with Reiner, but b4 reader told him, he betrayed and exposed his mission. Levi stepped in to help reader. And btw, I just finished watching ep 3 of season 4, so maybe Eren telling reiner abt his child and he regrets leaving the reader? And reiner jealous at the fact Levi is most likely considered his child’s father at that point. I can’t come up with an ending, so I’ll leave it up to you if you do take in my request. If this isn’t your type of writing I totally understand!

Note: This story is canon divergent. It is set in season 4, but in a universe where Reiner is not revealed as a traitor/the armored titan until a few months before season 4 takes place, as the reader was having relations with him until then and did not know his secret. I’m sorry if that change bothers you, I just wanted to write this as sort of its own story. This story contains season 4 spoilers! It also has nothing to do with the canon ending of AOT.

---

Dear Reiner,

I hope this letter somehow gets to you, I don’t quite know where to start.

In a perfect world, I would be so happy to tell you this. You’d be ecstatic too, I think. And before you try to second guess me: I’m sure by now, don’t worry.

I’m pregnant.

I guess we weren’t careful enough before you left. I feel like an idiot. And lost. But I’m not hopeless. I know myself, I can make it work somehow. With or without you.

I’m still in shock about you. How could someone so close hide so much? You’re a talented spy I suppose, a great asset to Marley. You made me trust you with my entire life. You made me love every false thing about you. And this is the rude awakening I get in return.

I’ll raise our child to value honesty and kindness, all in spite of you.

Sincerely,

Reader

---

The paper was damp with tears after you lifted your pen for a final time. You wished you could just keep the whole thing a secret: go make a quiet life for yourself somewhere else. It wouldn’t be right. Not after all of the dishonesty that man had spewed to you over the past few years. You had to tell him.

The door to the office room you’d settled in to write the letter creaks open. It’s Levi. He looks at your puffy eyes somberly, sympathetic. He was the first person you had told about the entire situation. Not because you were close, just because you needed help.

You fold your letter and stick it into a sturdy envelope. Levi takes it in his hand.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve a thing from you. Not a letter. Certainly not tears,” Levi says, using a clean handkerchief to wipe a stray drop from your cheek, “but I am proud of you.”

You take the handkerchief from him, feeling more tears stream down your face.

“Proud? I’m a fucking idiot,” you say through your sobs.

“Don’t even try to pull that self pity shit with me. Things happen sometimes. And you’re strong enough to commit to getting through it,” he responds.

You stand up, pushing your chair out. You look at him as you dry your face off again.

“I’m alone. How the hell am I supposed to do this shit alone?”

“You are not alone,” Levi replies. You’re shocked when he pulls you into a hug. “I’m going to help.”

You had never seen this side of him before. You look at him as you pull away slowly, tears still welled in your eyes.

“Are you sure? That's a big burden, Levi. None of this has to involve you.”

“Not the biggest burden I’ve ever taken on,” he shrugs. “There’s a lot of death around here, Y/N. Everyone is going to be happy about the little bit of life you’re giving us.”

You chuckle. He’s cynical, but he’s right.

He licks the envelope as he walks toward the door.

“Want me to run you a hot bath or something? Is that the type of shit pregnant people need?” he asks.

You laugh, a little harder than normal. It felt so relieving to laugh.

“Sure, Captain,” you respond softly.

---

Dear Reader,

I received your letter before the battle in Marley. I actually got to hand it to Reiner myself. He knows everything now. He broke down in front of me after reading it, going on about how much he regrets everything. How he wishes he could change things and be there for you. He begged me to kill him right there.

The world will eventually not have suffering like what you are going through now.

Eren Jaeger

---

Your jaw had dropped reading it. He begged me to kill him.

You hand the letter Levi had just delivered back to him. He reads it with a furrowed brow.

“Do you think…” you begin, your voice shaky, “do you think I could send another letter?”

Levi purses his lips, “Possibly. I can ask Jaeger. But right now, you need to bring your blood pressure back down.”

You were over seven months along now. You had found out about your pregnancy late, after being in denial for four whole months. Hange insisted on checking you out after you’d thrown up every morning for a week.

Levi had since gone on a parenting book reading spree; he made you read several of them too. He knew just about everything you needed to do to make a healthy baby: what to eat, what not to eat, how to exercise, when to go to the doctor, etc. It was really sweet how much he cared. You knew it gave him hope, something to fight for, something to come home to.

You were terrified when he left for Marley. You kissed him for the first time when he returned. Just about everyone you knew had to fight. You wished you could be out there fighting with them like you were supposed to. Maybe you could have made a difference.

Levi takes your hand, squeezing it to bring you out of your thoughts.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“Get me a glass of wine,” you grumble.

“Absolutely not.”

---

Dear Reiner,

Reader does not know I’m sending this. So keep it that way, or I’ll kill your sorry ass. Or maybe not, you’d probably enjoy that. In that case I’ll get creative.

How does it feel? Being a fucking deadbeat? Is it everything you’d thought it’d be and more? Fucking her and leaving her with nothing, like she belongs in a whorehouse. Reminds me of what happened to my mother. Pieces of shit like you came in and sent her to her death, leaving her kid behind to starve.

I wasn’t about to let her suffer like my mother did. But you were. I’m glad your choices haunt you, Reiner. You fucking deserve it.

I’ll be there for the both of them from now on, doing everything you were never capable of. She’s due any day now, I’m sure she’ll try to write to you.

Levi

---

You feel your first contraction while napping on the couch with Levi. You were settled in between his legs, your back leaning up against his chest. He had his hands on your stomach; he loved to feel the baby kick and tell them some of the happier stories in his memories.

The two of you had grown so close over the past few months. You slept together every night now. You didn’t want to leave each other’s sides if you didn’t have to. Levi would cuddle and massage you any time your pregnant body was ailing you.

You had fantasized with him about life after the war. He wanted to be a husband, a father, to live peacefully in the countryside. And he wanted more than anything for you to join him.

The first contraction wasn’t painful enough for you to make much more than a grunting noise, but Levi woke up the second he felt your stomach contort a bit. He was on very high alert these days.

“Holy… shit…is that what I think it is?” Levi whispers, “Don’t answer. I’m getting Hange.”

He crawls out from behind you and sprints out of the room.

The pain worsens and becomes much more frequent while he’s out looking for Hange. You stand up eventually after getting the urge to walk around - and your water breaks. You start panicking, unsure of how dilated you were and how much time you had left before pushing. You really wished you’d done more than just skimmed through those birthing books right about now.

Levi and Hange eventually come sprinting back into the room with a wheelchair and cold rags to find you whimpering in pain on the couch, trying your best to control your breathing.

You’re rushed down the halls to the Scout’s infirmary, where Levi had made sure the perfect room was set up for you - and it had been that way for two months.

The next hour goes by in a blur. Hange knew the biology of how to deliver the baby, and Levi knew how to coach you. He helped you hold your legs back when you pushed, and helped you count out your breathing. Hange attended to everything that might have made Levi faint, like checking your dilation and making sure the baby was coming out at the right angle. You got lucky having these two by your side.

Through all of your efforts, you finally hear a cry. You look up to see Levi holding your tiny new baby as Hange wiped them clean. He was smiling, way bigger than you’d ever seen him smile before, with tears in his eyes.

“Here,” he says softly, handing her to you.

You cradle her on your bare skin. “She’s so perfect, Levi! Look how sweet she is!” you coo.

“What are you going to call her?” he asks, stroking your hair as you gleam down at your baby.

“I was thinking,” you smile, “Kuchel.”

Levi lets out small gasp. Tears start streaming down his face, his efforts to stifle them failing.

“Really? I think that’s,” he wipes his eyes, “a wonderful name.”

—-

Dear Reiner,

She’s finally here! Oh my god, she’s precious. Levi and Hange helped to deliver her. Labor went smoothly. Levi started to cry when he saw her for the first time. She really is just that perfect. We are calling her Kuchel, after Levi’s mother. He cried when I told him that, too (don’t tell him I’m sharing those crying details.) I've decided to give her Levi’s last name as well.

Levi set up the perfect nursery for us.

If you really did feel guilty for leaving - don’t be. I’m happy.

She has your eyes.

Sincerely,

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Kuchel said her first word today. Of course it wasn’t mama, she’s such a daddy’s girl. She started crawling awhile ago, we are now working on standing up on our own. She has all of this blonde curly hair, too. She’s growing up so fast.

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

Levi proposed a few days ago. It was so perfect. We found a nice house with room for a farm that will be perfect for a family.

I can only wonder how you’re doing, now that the war is over.

Are you even alive?

Reader

—-

Dear Reiner,

I’m expecting again. Levi is beyond excited. I am too, of course. Kuchel started school this year. She is such a smart kid.

I still wonder about you. After all these years.

Reader

—-

Message after message, word after word. No response. You had decided he must be dead. The devastation after the war would argue that he was.

That is, until you found yourself rummaging through one of Levi’s desk drawers, looking for baby Isabel’s lost pacifier.

You felt the bottom of the drawer shift. A false bottom?

You pry at it until it comes open.

Letters.

Dozens of opened letters. With Marleyan postage stamps.

You pull out the first bundle you see. They’re all from you. Unopened. Unsent. You set them aside, your jaw quivering.

You pull out the second bundle and gasp.

—-

Dear Reader,

Eren showed me your letter. I am terribly sorry. Let me fix this, somehow. You can come to live with me in Marley. I will take care of you. Please.

I’m not just a traitor, a liar, a farce. Everything between us was real. I can explain everything. Just trust me.

Love,

Reiner

—

Dear Reader,

Do you get my letters?

I’ve only heard rumors about our new baby girl. I wish I could see her. Just once. For a second. Do you have a camera? I know they’re hard to come by in Paradis. I can send one.

I’d do anything to change this. You know I would.

Love,

Reiner

—-

To Levi,

You son of a bitch. I know exactly what you’re doing. You think this is protecting her, but it’s not. Just let her talk to me. She would listen, she would understand. You said yourself that she writes. You manipulative, sick bastard. That is MY child. She will never be yours. No matter what you brainwash her to believe, your dirty Ackerman blood does not run through her veins. She deserves to know. You are the farce, Levi.

Reiner

—-

There were dozens more. All opened. All from Reiner.

You sink down to the floor, tears spilling from your eyes.

You are the farce, Levi.

But, why? He was just protecting you, right?

The office door opens. You jump, shoving the letters back into the drawer.

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Kuchel asks.

You take a deep breath, staring down at the letters, thinking about everything that could have been.

“Are you happy here, Kuchel?”

“Yes!” she chirps, “Every day!”

“Then it’s nothing, baby. Mommy just got hurt. She’s better now.”

Your daughter giggles and skips out of the room, leaving you to hide away the rest of the letters.

༺♥༻

I REALLY HOPE I understood your request, Anon! I actually had a lot of fun writing this. It isn't something I would normally think to write, but I'm so glad you shared this idea! Sorry for the sad ending, I love playing w people's emotions ;)

༺♥༻

[arbor-tristis]

Sorry but it IS poor media literacy. In shadows are falling, Murdoch is in extreme grief. His thoughts are not rational and he blames Julia which he would never have done. Just because he is the lead doesn't mean he is always right. That's actually a consistent theme in the show, from the start.

The whole point of his character is that he is a contradiction, a catholic but also a modern man of science. His catholic beliefs have made a lot of things difficult to swallow but because murdoch is at his core a man that values honesty, logic and justice, those beliefs often make him lean towards the more progressive side. This is true with Julia, with all the gay people he has ever come across in this show, and everything else.

When Julia reveals to him that she has had an abortion, he finds it difficult to forgive. He believes that it is wrong. But the show does a great job, because as the audience we KNOW it's Julia who's right. She explains it very well- she would never be where she was if she didn't have the abortion. It's a challenge to Murdoch's character to unlearn his Catholics beliefs and understand that abortion is often the only good choice women have. He learns this slowly, but regresses in his moment of grief during the miscarriage. This DOES NOT mean that at any point in this whole thing we are supposed to agree with him. We are supposed to feel bad for him, to have some sympathy. That's it.

Also with homosexuality- in like the very first (or second?) season, it comes up in a case. The resolution of the case is such that actually the gay people were not the murderers and that if people had just let people be, nobody would have died. He even lets a gay priest get away with being gay. He could have charged him. But even that early, Murdoch could feel that that would be wrong. He is not a bad person. He is just learning. Julia is once again a part of it, by opening his eyes to more progressive views.

Also I've said it once and got flamed but I'll say it again- the conversion therapy arc was actually very well done. Watts wanting conversion therapy actually makes a lot of sense given the trauma of internal and external homophobia. To all of you it might seem unimaginable but TRUST that even today, gay people try it, because they don't want to live with the trauma of being gay in this world. It's not always parents dragging people kicking and screaming - it's grown gay adults who just want to be "normal". Who are tired of hiding, of lying, of having limited options. It's very sad but it's entirely understandable. Now think of that, but in the literal Victorian/Edwardian times. Contextualise Watts' wishes in what he has just been through. What kind of future he believes he has. Be honest, would you not have considered conversion therapy? This is the EXACT argument Murdoch makes. He feels bad for Watts. He understands Watts' choice because he knows how helpless he feels. He doesn't think all gay people should do it or that gay people are bad, but he recognises that the world is not kind to them and there's very little he or anyone can do as an individual. It's a very sad reality but he's not really homophobic to think that and it's definitely not him being "pro conversion therapy". If you pay attention, even Julia seems to be sympathetic to Watts but because she is a doctor she tries to tell him that it doesn't actually work. But she STILL understands. Thats what a person with any empathy for someones suffering would do. The episode doesn't have a nice little happy ending and Llewellyn just accepts that he has to be gay because conversion therapy doesn't actually work. But why should it have an ending where everyone turns to the camera and says "conversion therapy is bad y'all" for you to take away the right message???? They didn't solve homophobia, they were just people doing the best they could.

I think you should ask yourself why you need it to be so black and white. Why does Murdoch have to be a good guy or "right" just because he is the lead, and just because he is right about some things, mostly detective work. Murdoch is a person. A talented, rare person- but he exists in history. Like it's not hard. This show actually does a great job of humanising Victorian people. They may have lived at a very different time, but so many of them, not just our main characters, act in progressive ways, out of love, out of a sense of justice. Even Brax does. They were people and they cared about other people. Like us. They would do anything to help them and love them the best way they could. They may not have gotten it 100% but that's fine, nobody does.

You are not the only one in this fandom that has expressed these beliefs, so it's not personal - but watching period dramas with so little sense of nuance is what is wrong. Even today people are complex. Please gain some sense of complexity in characters. It might improve your viewing experience.

If this is incredibly poor media literacy, shout at me and take away my media and English a levels but I'm rewatching shadows are falling and I genuinely cannot tell if the message is pro-choice or pro-life.

Cause on one hand you have murdoch. They've played his Catholic morality as being in the wrong before (I.e what lies buried and then in the future when he says watts should be allowed conversion) and as a whole the show doesn't shy away from the fact that victorians had different moral standards. And of course, if a character does something that does not mean that the author agrees with it or that the viewer should agree with it. But at the same time, he's the lead. Like we've been positioned to agree with him the whole episode for obvious reasons.

And then there's Julia who we are also supposed to sympathise with, arguably more. Her and Rebecca are arguing that abortion is alright and they're both 'good guys.'

I'd argue that in season 2, at least in my reading, we are supposed to view julia having an abortion as a fair reason for murdoch to break up with her. Idk this whole episode feels very murky. It's a great episode and I go back to it all the time, but murky none the less.

[gucciwins]

Roses and Romeo

Harry and Y/N come back to their hometown after eight years to open up a time capsule they buried ten years ago as high school sophomores. 

Word count: 20,534

A/N: Hello beautiful friends, hope you’ve been well. I’m really excited to share this story. It is a former high school sweethearts to lovers. Thank you to @havethetimeofyourstyles Jill for creating timetravelathon and allowing me to participate. I am very sorry it’s later but I finished!!! I do hope you all love it. 

Also this story is my baby, because i’ve never hit 20k before so this was new and exciting. I just had so many ideas for the story.

please come and tell me your favorite part!

_____

DECEMBER 1989 - SENIOR YEAR 

It's December, and all that is on her mind is how the grass would look covered in snow. The cold breeze, an extra jacket to stay warm, a blanket to bundle up with her favorite person. Safe to say, she can only imagine it because California, specifically Southern California, isn't so keen on giving her this one gift she asks for each year.

A huge smile spreads over her face as soon as she sees her house up ahead. 

It's not huge, but it is perfect for Y/N. She has the best memories growing up in a house full of love and laughter and the most gorgeous flowers. The iris and tulips bloomed extra bright this year. There is never a day her mom isn't fixing the garden. Her mother always makes sure she has fresh flowers in her room; right now, for the week, she has purple tulips. Also makes a lovely gift to take to her boyfriend. Harry always blushes when she brings him flowers. 

It also gets her extra kisses. 

Harry parks right outside but doesn't rush out to open her door like always, so she turns to look at him. He's tapping his fingers on the steering wheel; she patiently waits for him to speak up. 

She'd wait all day if she could; he has a beautiful face, one that she will never get tired of gazing at. She especially loves that curl that flops down over his forehead; as much as he pushes it away, it bounces back as if he never moved it.

"It's Friday, love." Harry begins, "I think you should consider coming with me to a party." 

She pouts. "No, I want to listen to that new record my dad found, and I also have lots to study. Big exam on Monday."

"You're always studying." He groans. 

She frowns. "Not true! Calculus is my biggest enemy. Mr. Leanza is not easy on us." 

"Okay, Miss 101%." He pokes her cheek. 

She huffs and crosses her arms over her chest in annoyance. 

"I'm not going to go just for you to tease me." 

Harry leans over and steals a kiss before she can dodge him. "Let's play a game." He sees her roll her eyes but asks her to hear him out. 

She gestures for him to go on. "I go in and quiz you. Zero wrong out of all the flashcards you have in that bag of yours, and I get to take you with me. I already have parent permission. I'll have you know."

She narrows her eyes at him. Not ever surprised that her parents agreed, they trust Harry. He's given them no reason not to. She's about to tell him, no, but he gives her a big smile. His dimples are on full display, and she finds herself agreeing. 

She mutters a small "okay." 

Harry smiles, knowing how she likes to make him work for it, but he really enjoys finding new ways to win her over. He might have cheated, flashing her his dimples that he knows she can't resist, but he never said he played fair. "Only if I get to drive Nessie." 

Nessie is Harry's classy white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230 SL. She was never interested in cars, but Harry speaks so fondly of his car that she has come to learn so much about it and loves it just as much as Harry and her father together taught her how to change a tire and check the oil on Nessie. They want to prepare her for anything, and she is thankful because Harry likes to test her from time to time. 

Harry smirked, knowing how much she loves driving. She loves it but does not cave in letting her parents get her a car. Her parents have wanted to get her a car since she got her license at sixteen, but Y/N claims it is too much money to spend.

Her parents tell her they have saved enough for her and her education. It's like raising an only child. They remind Y/N all the time since her brother has graduated university and now lives in San Francisco as an engineer in a growing company. 

Harry has been meeting discreetly behind her back with her parents on gifting her a car this Christmas. Although he fears that having a car will mean less of him driving her around. Meaning they will spend less time together and fewer backseat make-out sessions, but on an upside also means he'd have to help her christen it. 

"Darling, you dating me for my car?" 

"Yes, dearie. I started dating you back in our first year because you had Nessie, not because of those dimples and lame jokes.

"You told me you love them!" Harry gasps, offended. 

"Tell you what you want to hear." She shrugs, getting out of the car. 

"Hurting my feelings, love." Harry now stands in front of her taking her bag from her hand and closing the door behind her. 

"Let's get inside." She pushes him to walk in quickly, knowing her parents aren't home yet and her mom isn't due for another thirty minutes, and she would really love to squeeze in a make-out session. 

"Compliment me, then we can go in." Harry stands firm in front of her, a teasing glimmer in his emerald eyes. 

She reaches up and places her hands on his cheek, planting a small kiss on his nose.  

"You're a dreamboat, Styles." She whispers.

Harry can't help the blush that seems to be taking over his entire face. 

She pecks his lips and skips around him. "Let's get studying, then you can help me pick my outfit for later." 

Harry shakes himself out of the trance she always seems to leave him in. "God knows you need it

JUNE 1998 - SUMMER HOME 

Y/N had always known she was a bit crazy but honestly, deciding on making a 44-hour road trip from Massachusetts to California, where her hometown of Aurora takes the cake. 

Yes, she knows how unsafe it is to be a woman on the road alone, but she saved up for the trip and would be spending the entire summer home for the first time since graduating high school. A plus was that she knows the map really well, having studied it hard like one of her anatomy books. Also, helped that her father quizzed her on what roads and exits she would be taking. 

She's a good driver; her father always told her everyone else is who she had to watch out for. Honestly, she thanked her family for pushing her to drive more, and now she loves being behind the wheel. 

The road was never-ending, taking her where she wanted, and currently, she was aiming for home. 

It's four hours until she reaches home, a home she has not lived in for over eight years. A place that holds her most precious memories as well as most heartbreaking.

She's driving with the window down, enjoying the breeze, knowing the heat will only get worse the closer to home. A car passes next to her; she looks over briefly, taking in the vehicle's blue color. It does look a bit old; as the driver accelerates their speed, she notices that it's a Mercedes-Benz but can't make the model seeing as the driver must be eager to reach their destination now speeding off. If she's honest, those types of cars remind her of one person, and that's how she knows she'll never escape because she finds meaning for them in anything and everything life has to offer. 

The last few hours on the road pass relatively quickly because the next thing she knows, she's parking her Jeep Cherokee in what she used to call her parking. This car has spent nine years with her and runs like a dream. It was a gift from her parents, and at the time, she was nervous about the gesture but really grew to love it. It also came in handy, seeing as she now lives far from home and visits as much as she can. She hopes to make more trips up now that she has residency but knows it will be harder to get holidays off. 

Her parents understand; they do. She's following her dreams and achieving each one, and that is all they could ever ask for. 

Y/N gets out and gets her suitcase; it has her essentials and anything she's missing; she can come out later to get it, well her father will most likely fight her and do it on his own. 

Just as she is about to open the door, it swings open. Her mother doesn't give her any time to react and simply wraps her in a hug. A tight one full of love and happiness, an embrace she will never get tired of. 

"Hi, momma," Y/N murmurs, not at all ready to let go.

"Hello, my sweet girl. It's good to have you home." 

"It's good being here. Feel younger already." 

"Ah, same here. Come inside; I have lemonade served up and muffins because they are your favorite." 

Y/N smiles, knowing how much her mother made sure to have her well-fed always. No matter what she told her, she wanted her with meat on her bones. This also meant anyone who she brought home was given a big meal as well. Telling everyone and anyone they were too thin then proceeding to provide them with a second serving. This was her mother's way of getting into people's hearts through their stomachs. 

Y/N walked into the kitchen and smiled at how nothing had changed. Hanging on the refrigerator were her three graduation photos: high school at seventeen, ready to take the world by storm, at twenty-one graduating with the highest honor from Columbia University, and the last was graduating Harvard Medical school this past spring. She knew the next to join would be a photo of her on the first day of her residency. 

"Your father refuses to take any down; when your brother comes into town, he complains. Your dad shuts him up by telling him to go be a doctor, and then they could talk." 

It warms Y/N's heart that her parents are proud of all the accomplishments she has made. It's been a tough road, but nothing stops her until she accomplishes her goals, and starting her residency is the next stop. 

"Like dad's office is covered full of his accomplishments since entering that job in San Francisco." She jokes, transitioning the conversation away from herself.

"The oldest child always seems to be the most jealous." Her mother reminds her.

After eating a muffin or two, her mom sends her off on a walk, not wanting her to be cooped up in the house on her first day back. She has always loved walking around. It's something she did when her friends weren't able to offer her a ride. Also, her parents would walk her to the park every weekend growing up to run around in the grass and ruin more clothes with grass stains.

It's no surprise that she arrives at the entrance of the town's park. It looks like there is no one around until she really enters and finds a family seated on a picnic planet as their youngest tries feeding their oldest strawberries. It's a sweet sight. 

She keeps going, not at all wanting to disturb; soon enough, she enters the part of the park no one really visits and finds the old park bench with lots of initials carved in the wood, hers included. It creaks as she sits on it; she smiles, knowing that it is something that has not changed. 

There aren't many flowers in this corner, just a big willow tree offering her shade that she very much enjoys. 

It's nice being home, she's missed it, but she has loved living in new places, making new friends and connections. She spent her first four years in New York, and she loved the environment. It was a university filled with thousands of people never seeing the same face twice in the halls. Everyone was always in a rush to get somewhere but not here, not at home. Everyone stops her for a conversation. They talk to her as if no time has happened, as if she was still the young girl who helped her mom tend the garden each weekend. 

In a way, she always will be. 

She wanted this time to explore and travel because she knows this where she'll come back one day to lay her roots. She and her future husband will marry here, maybe at the botanical garden with the beautiful flower arch all year round. It's where she sees her children growing up and running around as she once did. She's got her residency to finish up, but she's looking forward to when she can call Aurora home again. 

After sitting for a while, she decides she will come back with a book or two next time. If she's going to be here all summer might as well start by doing some reading on books she has not gotten around to reading. Y/N is thinking about leaving when her eyes spot a couple coming down a hidden path, a small daisy behind the girl's ear, her arm tight around her boyfriend's arm. He's got the biggest smile on his face. They look so lost in each other, one can feel their love. 

It reminds her of when she used to do that. When she did that with Harry before they broke up and never spoke again. It breaks her heart, but it also brings back some of the best memories. He'd always bring her here just so they could talk for hours so that she'd tell him more about the flowers and to kiss in private. 

One of her favorite memories is when they were in their third year of high school, and he asked to meet for a surprise. She stands up and shakes the memory away, not wanting to get lost in her thoughts. It's harder to do now that she's home and she can see him everywhere she looks. 

With that last thought brushed away, she decides to walk back home. She's got a few days to herself before meeting with everyone; there was the big reason she was back in town. 

It was time to open a box of memories. 

APRIL 1989 - JUNIOR YEAR

Harry is up to something. 

She suspects something because he made her walk to the park when he would always be quick to offer her a ride. Sure, it's only a ten-minute walk from her house, but he always says something along the lines that not everyone is as kind as they seem. 

It's April, and the flowers are in full bloom. She hears the birds singing, and she swears they sing of the beauty of the flowers. It's also bee season, meaning lots will be around the park, and as much as she loves them, Harry has a big fear of them. Y/N has mentioned various times that they don't mean to harm him; it can just happen. Especially if they get startled.

Y/N takes note of a new flower; it's a small white four-petaled flower that grows in fragrant clusters. They smell divine, but she knows she has never seen them. She really wishes she had her father's polaroid on her to take a photo and show her mother. Any other day she would turn back to do just that, but Harry is waiting on her. 

She walks to the back of the park where Harry has claimed their spot, their initials carved in the bench make sure of that. He's standing next to the viola's, and they stand dull next to Harry. 

"Hiya, angel." Harry greets hands hiding behind his back.

"Hello." She greets softly; Harry can easily note she's nervous. Any other time she would have given him the biggest hug, but right now is keeping an appropriate distance. 

"Are you nervous?" He teases, which honestly calms her down because if he's teasing her, it surely means he doesn't want to break up so she can toss that idea right out. 

The last few ideas left are that it's an important anniversary and she's forgotten, or he just wanted to be romantic. 

She hopes it's the latter. 

"Not so much anymore." She replies truthfully, stepping closer, desperately wanting to give him a hug. He looks warm in his knitted baby blue sweater; she knows it was a Christmas gift from his grandmother, his new favorite. 

 If he's not wearing his cardigan, he's wearing his varsity jacket, but it's at the dry cleaners because when it's not in his possession, it's in hers. She likes the heaviness of it, how small it makes her look. Harry is the perfect height, standing at what she thinks is 6'0, but she can't be too sure. His broad shoulders only seem to grow stronger each summer after returning from two weeks of football camp. At this point, she wears his varsity jacket more than he does. Sure, she can get an academic one she has more than enough patches to choose from, but it just isn't the same; besides, she rather spend her money on books and records. 

Harry tells her his favorite thing about her wearing his jacket is that it has his last name. He knows marriage is long down the line, but he does hope to share the same last name one day. 

It's his most prominent dream.

But currently, his big dream at the age of seventeen is asking the prettiest girl to prom. 

Harry brings his hands forward to reveal a dozen lavender roses in his hand. Y/N gasps at their beauty, not at all expecting this. They are gorgeous, and she can't wait to show them off to her mom as soon as she gets home. 

"My love," Harry starts closing the gap between them and bringing her left hand to his lips to place a soft kiss before setting it back down to rest close to his heart that is beating just for her. "Will you do me the honor of being my date to prom?"

She smiles wide, not at all expecting him to ask, let alone for it to be this romantic and intimate. 

"Yes, of course." She wraps her arms around his neck, and Harry spins her around, letting out a small holler of excitement. 

"The roses are beautiful; they must have cost you a pretty penny," Y/N tells him as soon as he sets her down so she can admire them again.

"Well, darling. You're worth every one. It also pays that your mom gets on well with the town's florist." 

She giggles, nodding. 

"Now, how about we walk over to my car and celebrate with a make-out." Harry wiggles his eyebrows at her, knowing he needs very little to convince her. 

"Harry!" She chastises, looking around to see if anyone heard, but the park is empty, not a soul in sight. "How about we take a stroll around the park, then we'll see afterward." 

"You're a little tease, love." She leans in and pecks his lips two times. He tries for a third, but she hurries off. 

"Come on, dove. We've got to see the rest of the flowers that are blooming." Y/N's voice is full of excitement at the chance of walking around the park for the next hour, hand in hand with her boyfriend. 

Harry grins happily, following after her, he may be young, but he knows he will do whatever is in his power to always see her happy and smiling.

JUNE 1998 - HOME

"Dad!" She yells as soon as she walks in the door; she sees him stand quickly from his seat on the couch and embraces her in a big hug.

"My baby is home." He whispers. 

"I missed you." 

"I missed you too, sweetheart."

"How was work?" 

"Awful, when I knew I had my two favorite girls at home waiting for me."

Y/N laughs. "Always a sap, dad." 

Her mother makes her presence known. "This is a lovely sight. I've missed it." 

"Yes, as have I." Her father gives her one last kiss to her head and lets her go. 

"Any plans?" Her mother questions walking back from the kitchen, placing a cup of tea for Y/N on an old family coaster. 

Y/N takes a seat on the couch, as do both her parents wanting to carry on the conversation.

"I'm meeting Sarah and Sydney for breakfast one of these days, most likely going to spend the entire day together. Then, everyone else won't be coming around until the week after. Think it will be on Friday, seeing as that is what worked for everyone's schedule. 

"Happy to see your friends." Her mom states, the wide smile on Y/N’s face confirming her statement.

"Yes, chatting isn't as easy as when we were in high school seeing each other that day. There are lots of emails sent back and forth between us." 

"Glad you girls stayed closed. Was worried you would all drift away." She reaches forward to squeeze Y/N's knee. 

Y/N knew she meant it about Harry. How no one thought anything would come between them that they would make it through university and settle down soon after. Oh, how wrong they all were. As much as they hoped for the best, they were each other's downfall. 

"It's a bit late; I'm going to shower and head to bed instead."

"Before you go, can I say something?"

Y/N recognizes the gleam in her mother's eye and nods, knowing she has to get this off her chest. 

"It's sadly a man's world out there, but you have managed to make it your own." She reaches forward and takes Y/N's hand in hers, pressing a gentle kiss before settling it in her lap. Y/N smiles. "I know you long to love and share it with someone, and I want you to remember that the person for you is out there. As a mother, I know these things, and I wish you nothing but the greatest things in life, but they all come when we are ready for it."

Tears well up in Y/N's eyes, she nods. Not replying to her mother's words because she knows if she speaks, she will cry. 

"Lorelai, you made her cry." He whispers, pulling both women into a squished hug. 

"I've always had your father, and I hope you find that someone for yourself." 

She pulls back and wipes her tears away. "Thank you." Y/N leaves her parents with a final hug.

She heads up the stairs to the room that holds all the memories she has kept locked away. In her home, there are no longer any photos of her friends or of him. Not like before, where they were spotted on every wall displayed for all to see. Her mother took them off after she left for university. It broke her mother's heart to see her suffer such a big heartbreak. Harry had become like another son to her parents, so they were all sharing the heartbreak. She missed everything about him, but it has been years since they last spoke. 

It's been eight years since they last talked, last kissed but not the last she's thought of him. He's coming for the time capsule opening, and as much as she tries to convince herself she's going to be alright, she knows she's not. Yes, she's moved on. She has built a life without him in it, but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. 

All she can do is count the days until she leaves Aurora and goes back to the comfort of her apartment in Massachusetts. 

____

It's been a week since she's been home, and she knows everyone will show up in two days. The friends she was sure she'd never lose touch with but slowly did with time no matter how each tried, but life moves on. 

Y/N is nervous to see everyone. She's changed in the last eight years, but so has everyone else. She misses what they used to have in high school but honestly, getting to hear what everyone has been up to will be fun. Who knows, it might feel as if not time has passed at all? 

She met up with Sarah and Sydney earlier for breakfast at the old dinner. The girls spent a good five minutes embraced in a hug before they took their seats. They ordered too much to eat but, to no surprise, finished it all by the end of their conversation. 

The time together was spent mostly catching up and jumping from topic to topic. She did feel she was asked one too many questions about starting her residency and how they will be addressing her as a "doctor."

Y/N brought up Sarah's love life wanting to hear how they were doing. Sarah and Mitch did not start dating until after graduating high school, finding out they were going to the same university just an hour away from their hometown. Everyone was aware of Mitch's heart eyes for Sarah, but she was too focused on her internship, always wanting to do good. One can imagine how happy everyone was when news spread that Sarah asked Mitch out and was quick to say yes. Now eight years later, were happily moved in together. Sarah is a music engineer, and Mitch a music teacher at the local high school; as mellow as Mitch is, he gets on well with the teens. 

Having focused on love and Sydney quickly saying nothing new was going on with her, just that she was more in love than she could have ever imagined, it was time to hound Y/N, it seems. They asked about her love life and how good-looking the boys in Massachusetts are.

Y/N told them how nonexistent her love life has been since she graduated high school. It's not something she ever made time for, and her friends understand as much as they hate that for her. Sydney did not stop herself from making a joke on what seems to be Y/N's long dry spell. She shrugged it off, not at all bothered. Y/N assured them she knows how to take care of her own needs until the right person comes along. They all knew who she hoped would be the right person, but they knew better than to bring him up.

Once again, there was a change of pace. Sarah surprised them with tickets to Spice Girls at a sold-out Madison Square Garden concert on July first. Six tickets, a perfect number for their friend group. It was perfect, honestly. Sarah figured they'd road trip up the last week of June and could stay in Y/N's shared apartment with her roommate, who would not be home yet. Then take a train up to New York for the show. Also, told them they'd have hotel rooms for the night already, having an idea there would be an after-party. Y/N was all for it as was Sydney. 

Y/N has always loved concerts; it's something she saves for not bothered to spend some money to enjoy a great show for one of her favorite artists, especially in good company. The long queues were a downfall, but not everything is perfect. She has gone to concerts and knows that one can make the best experience out of floor seats and nosebleeds. Artists never fail to amaze. 

It reminds her of the first concert she ever went to that Harry took her to their senior year. The ticket stub she has pinned next to a polaroid that a stranger offered to take for them. It was before the show, and they had matching grins. It's still one of her favorites, and the reason she doesn't take it down is too good of a memory to keep hidden away. 

While seeing Sarah and Sydney was good and everything she hoped it would be, it did not prepare her to see the others. She had not talked to Zac in a long while, having no idea what he was up to. Mitch is quiet and only says hello when she has called with Sarah and Harry; well, it's like she doesn't exist to him. Not since their last day together. 

Y/N has two days to prepare.

Two days to wrap her head around the fact that she's going to see Harry. 

AUGUST 1989 - SENIOR YEAR

Many people told her to enjoy her high school years because they would fly by, and she accepted the advice and made memories to last a lifetime in the three years leading up to her senior year. Her friends and family have made each year memorial. Still, there is something about senior year, and knowing that it is their last year before university has her excited and anxious. 

Harry repeatedly told her how he wanted it to be their best year yet and promised to do just that. She has no doubt in her mind he will accomplish that in whatever way. He's managed to do so year after year. 

Harry made sure to pick her up each morning, never wanting her to worry about walking alone to school or arriving late. He made sure he knocked on her door every morning.

Depending on the time he showed up, he was ushered in for a homemade breakfast, or sometimes he said a quick hello before grabbing her hand and rushing out the door because they were running behind schedule, and Harry knew he could not make her arrive late. 

One thing that was always constant was how he carried her bag to his car and opened her door. He made sure she was settled before reaching down for his morning kiss. Sometimes, he went as far as putting on her seatbelt, just wanting to be close to her. 

Today was Monday, and he usually comes in, but today he selfishly told her to grab him a slice of toast because he was in a hurry. She didn't question him and sent her apologies. Her mom kissed her cheek and told her not to worry about it. A true angel, her mother was.  

Harry slipped her bag over his shoulder before ushering her in. She felt a little flustered with his urgency but let him be. He stole a quick kiss before going to the driver's seat. 

"What's got you in a rush today?" She asks, genuinely worried. 

He smirks, looking over at her. He seems calm, not that they've driven away from her house. "Thought we could use the extra time for some kisses. You deprived me this Sunday." He pouts at her, waiting for the light to turn green. 

"H, you know I have dinner with my grandparents one Sunday a month." She chastises him.

"I know, darling, doesn't mean I like it." He tells her. "Had to suffer a Sunday alone." 

"Well, at least I know how I can make it up to you." She teases. 

Arriving at school, Harry parks toward the back under a shady tree, one far away from everyone. 

"Want to sit on my lap, baby?" He asks, spreading his thighs, and as much as she wants to, she shouldn't knowing very well what he can convince her to do when in his lap. 

"Later, H." She promises. 

"I'm holding you to that, angel." He unclips her seatbelt, quickly placing his lips on hers. 

She feels how smooth his lips are and knows he stole her cherry lip balm again. "Harry, that's the third lip balm you've taken in two weeks." She pulls away, rubbing her thumb over his bottom lip that he juts out. He gives her thumb a soft kiss. 

"Swear I was going to put it back this time." He moves closer, placing a kiss on her neck, slowly trailing down, pushing his varsity jacket down her shoulder, exposing more of her neck. Her black corduroy pants and white acrylic sweater, and her favorite worn-out Mary Jane's mother have been begging her to change out. She likes to think it adds an extra flair to her outfit. "You drive me crazy when you wear my jacket," He whispers in her ear.

"Does that mean you're always going crazy?" She whispers back, knowing he mostly wears the jacket during game days. 

"Always make me lose my mind." 

After a fun half-hour of making out, Y/N pushes him back, knowing she has matching bruised lips. She loves that everyone can see what she did to him. She also may have sucked a little too hard on the skin right below his collar, the love bite just barely visible. She pulls down the sun visor, looking in the mirror to straighten out her hair, that Harry just loves digging his fingers into. 

"Baby, what did you do?" Harry says, looking at the fresh mark just by his collar bone. 

She smirks, knowing very well that Harry loves when she marks him. Not doing it very often in fear of getting caught by their parents. 

"Got to remind those girls that stare at you who you belong to." She reapplies her lip balm before layering the new lip gloss her mom got for her the other day. 

"You know I've only got eyes for you, love." He says, caressing her cheek softly. 

His gentle tone of voice always makes her soft, but it also might be that his accent seems to stand out even more. 

"I know, H." She leans in to give him one more kiss but pulls back quick enough to not let him deepen it. 

"Sneaky, baby." He clicks his tongue at her, rushing out and rounding the car to open her door, offering her his hand. 

She gladly accepts it, placing a kiss on both cheeks before landing on his lips. 

"I love you, Styles." She whispers against his lips, eyes closed as she tries to catch her breath. 

"And I love you, my darling angel." He softly nuzzles her nose, causing her to let out a small giggle. 

"Let's get you to class." He says, throwing his arm over her shoulder pulling her in close. 

Harry is smiling wide; she takes notice as she looks up. He looks extra giddy. 

Too giddy, and it has nothing to do with their steamy make-out. 

She narrows her eyes at him, "what's got you extra smiley?" 

"Nothing, happy all the time."

"Nuh, uh. Styles. I know you. Fess up!" She stops walking, wanting him to answer her.

"It's because my girl marked me up today for all to see. Makes me feel special." He answers smoothly. 

Y/N looks at him in suspicion, not buying a single word he's saying, "I'm onto you, Styles."

Harry lets out a deep breath before stepping close to her. "Let me surprise you, darling." 

She instantly relaxes. "Okay, only because you know I like surprises."

"Thank you." He rests his forehead against her, happy to be in her space, forgetting all around him until he hears a shout of his name. 

Moment over, it seems.

"Let's get you to English Literature," Harry murmurs, intertwining his hand with hers making sure she's close by as Sarah greets her.

_____

It's lunchtime when they walk hand in hand to the lunch tables where Mitch and Sarah sit, stalling their conversion to greet them. Before she can take a seat next to Sarah, Harry pulls her in his lap. He leans in close to her ear and whispers that he'll give her his chocolate chip cookies Anne had baked. She silently agrees, grabbing the bag Harry was offering her. What he didn't disclose is that his mum had sent them specifically for her. They have three empty seats, but she can see Zac and Sydney approaching, carrying food trays. Meaning, neither had lunch prepared for the day. 

Y/N leans back against Harry getting comfortable, knowing that he wouldn't be letting her go any time soon. The chatter begins with how their weekend went and what this week's activities are. She knows she doesn't have much to do this week; her club meetings don't meet until next week. Harry has football practice all week, meaning she either visits the library or finds a ride home. She doesn't mind staying and watching his training, but Harry hates knowing she sits there alone for so long. He rather have her be home warm and cozy than on the cold bleachers.

Harry asks for her attention by placing a kiss on her neck, his tell sign that he's feeling left out. 

"Yes, H," She whispers for only him to hear. 

"Need your attention. Don't like sharing." 

"You're extra needy this Monday, dove." Y/N has his hands in her lap as she begins to trace circles on his palm; it's something that soothes him instantly. 

"I just want to know our plans this weekend." He kisses her cheek, nuzzling his face in her neck. "Rather you get parent permission early on than last-minute giving them a chance to say no." 

Harry's right; there are occasions where her parents have said no, and Y/N finds herself sneaking out from her window that conveniently has an old tree that makes it all the easier. 

Her parents trust them together, but if they really knew what happened behind locked doors, they would think otherwise.

"Do you want to go kiss a little?" He wants her to say yes. 

"At your car or in the abandoned hallway?" 

"What's quieter?" 

"The hallway, and it's closer." 

Harry nods, gently grabbing her waist and helping her stand. "We'll see you later," Harry says, interrupting their conversations. 

"Oh, Styles, you've corrupted her." Zac teases very well, grasping what they were about to go do.

"Think she's corrupted me. Who knew angels could be so dangerous?" Harry teases in front of their friends. 

Y/N feels her face warm, bidding them all a quiet goodbye. Harry, having rendered her a bit speechless. She swears she never knows what is going to come out of his mouth. 

Harry all but drags her to the hallway. He gently pushes her back against the wall next to an older poster for the school play. Y/n glances down at his lips before looking into his eyes.

"Did you really bring me here to kiss, or are you spilling the surprise?" Her eyes are big and filled with hope. 

"Sorry, baby. Really did want some kisses from you." He pulls her closer wanting no space in between them. "Really missed you. Can't believe we only have one class together." 

"It's like they know you wouldn't pay attention to me in a class with you." She teases.

"Kissy." He pouts his lips, feeling like they've talked enough. 

Who is she to deny him when he asks so sweetly. 

Y/N always felt like time stopped when she kissed Harry. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as her knees grew weak, and as if Harry knew, he wrapped his arm around her waist, keeping her up. Harry pulls away slowly, a smile growing on his face. He would never tire of kissing her. 

Harry leans in and nuzzles his head in the crook of her necks, slowly beginning to place kiss after kiss before he finds his favorite spot and begins to suck lightly, pulling a surprised moan from her. 

She pushes him back. "No love bites that high. It will keep us locked up in the house all weekend supervised. 

Harry tenses at the thought, knowing fully well her parents would do that, having done it before when they first started dating, and he thought more with the thing in his pants than his brain. "I guess I'll just have to bruise these pretty lips."

Never one to tell him no, a small nod is enough to make Harry lean in and take her breath away. He'd kiss her forever if he could, but the last fifteen minutes of lunch break would have to do for now. 

_____

Monday's always drag on; she goes home, does homework, reads a book, and waits for dinner to be ready. Most days, she joins her mother in cooking; both like conversing about their days. More than ever, they have lots to talk about, from holiday plans to the universities she is applying for. She has saved up allowance allowing her to use it for more universities than the average three. If it was up to her, she'd send one to all the universities because that is how confident she is not only about her grades but how she comes off as a student on paper. 

Dumping most of her books in her locker, she keeps Calculus in her bag, knowing the sooner that homework gets done, the less stress she'll have. Just as she shuts her locker, she hears footsteps approaching her. 

"Is my girl ready to go?" 

"She is." 

Harry swings his arm over her shoulder, and they begin to walk out the school doors that are kept wide open. There are groups of students lingering talking to another, and in the distance can hear cars driving away eager to get away. 

Y/N smiles at a girl who sends her a wave, recognizing her from her English course. Harry walks them under a tree, a reasonable distance away from everyone because, as she has come to know, he likes kissing her in private. 

"Our first game is in two weeks." Harry reminds her.

"Yes, exciting." 

"Will you be there, or is there a test to study for?" He teases. 

She frowns and takes him by the lapels of his varsity jacket that she gave back to him at the end of lunch because she claimed it was losing his smell. 

"Don't start, Harry. You know I've never missed a game, and I won't start now." 

"Was only teasing, love." 

"Didn't like it." 

"Sorry, love. Forgive me? He pouts, wanting her to smile at him instead of frown. 

"You know my price." Y/N shrugs. 

He sighs, nodding his head three times before moving to get on his knees, toying with unbuttoning her pants. 

She gasps and jumps away. "Harry!"

Harry can't help but smirk, "Isn't that always the price."

"I just wanted a kiss; no need to make a scene." He shrugs. "Now, don't you have a practice to get to?"

"Ugh, I do." Harry groans, dreading practice knowing the coach likes to run them twice as much for not working out on the weekends. 

"Give me a kiss, please. Then you'll come by later, right?"

"That is correct." He leans in, giving her three consecutive pecks on her lips. 

"Who's taking you home again?" He asks, wanting to make sure she's safe. 

"Sarah and Mitch." 

"Right, good. Well, off I go, poppet." 

"Bye." 

Harry turns and heads toward the field, where he can see the freshman already setting up drills and getting the water jug out to the bench. He's only taken a few steps when his angel's voice stops him. 

"Dove," 

Harry can feel his cheeks turn bright red at the term of endearment. He turns and takes two steps back to her. "Yes, lovie." 

"Will you give me one more kiss?" Her voice soft and innocent but the gleam in her eye is anything but that. 

Harry takes the last step towards her and holds her face with both hands reaching down and kissing her passionately. He pulls away after what feels like a lifetime, slowly as he tries to steady his breathing. 

"I love you," she whispers.

He presses a final kiss to her forehead. "And I love you." Harry turns and begins to jog away, recognizing he's got a limited time to get dressed and out on the field to warm up. He's a few feet away but turns his head to see her watching him still. "Tell your mom I'll be joining you for dinner." 

She nods, letting him know she heard him before he turns a corner and out of her eyesight. Only then does she go in search of her waiting friends who will bring her home. 

______

After Y/N informed her mother that Harry was going to join them for dinner, she got up to cook, wanting everything to be ready for when her father and Harry arrived, seeing it would be around the same time.

Y/N made herself scarce as her mother was in no mood to converse. Instead, she wanted to cook, and maybe if she planned her time accordingly, she would do dessert. 

Dinner time came around quickly, meaning she was lost in homework for a good few hours. She walked downstairs wanting to help her mom set the table when the front door swung open. 

"Hello, father!" Y/N bounced over to him, giving him a big hug and a peck on his cheek, one that he happily returned.

"Hi, my sweet girl." 

"Mom cooked a delicious dinner. We're just waiting on Harry." Y/N told him, knowing he's hungry from a long day at work.

"Won't have to wait long; Harry was just parking when I was on the steps." 

Y/N's eyes lit up at hearing that he arrived. Her father chuckled, "I'll go say hello to my wife, dinner in ten, okay." 

Y/N walks out to see Harry coming up the stairs in a cozy blue emblem sweater with denim Levi jeans and paired with his old white Chuck All-Stars. She smiled because he went home to shower, not wanting to wear his clothes from earlier or come over smelling like sweat, not that she minded. 

"You know we don't mind the sweat, H," She tells him as he's climbing up the last few steps. 

He shrugs. "I know, but I am a guest in your home and would never dare disrespect your parents and you, of course." 

Y/N grins. "Four years dating, and you continue to prove to be the most perfect boyfriend." 

Harry looks away, feeling bashful. "I wouldn't go that far." 

"I would, dove." Y/N closes the gap between them. "Now, I say you kiss me before mom calls us in for dinner." 

"It would be my greatest pleasure." 

____

Dinner was a success, conversation always flowing well. Y/N likes to sit back and listen to her parents talk with Harry as if they hadn't seen him in forever when he is more than likely to be here every other day. Her father is a big fan of football; he too was once a player. No, he wasn't quarterback; he was right-wing and helped his team make it to state championships. 

The high school team has won three state championships since Harry's first year as a freshman. They counted on making it the fourth year; no doubt in anybody's mind it would happen. Y/N picked up on her father's excitement going on and on about the first game and how it was the most important one now that scouts would be coming out more and more. Without a second thought, she reached over and placed her hand on his thigh, lightly squeezing, reassuring Harry she was there for him. He slowly turned the hand on his thigh palm up and intertwined them together. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, Lorelai. Luke, thank you for the great conversation. I can't wait to see you both at the game."

"We wouldn't dare miss it, Harry," Lorelai tells him, a wide grin on her face as she picks up the dishes. 

"Now go on; I'll help your mother with the dishes tonight." Luke gestures to them to get up and get their privacy. Y/N thanks him and takes Harry's hand, leading the way up the stairs. 

Now they are lying on her bed, it's got enough space for them to be spread out, but she prefers to lay across Harry, her head on his chest as he rests his head on her pillows. 

Harry had his hand in her hair, always calming for her and for him. Allows them to sit in comfortable silence, basking in the joy of being together. 

Many people ask them if they ever get sick of seeing each other every day and never giving each other space after dating for so long. That isn't entirely true because when they aren't at their respective extracurricular activities, they are found together. Harry's response is always, "she's my favorite person." Y/N just shrugs and smiles, "he's my best friend." 

Believe it or not, they spent around in her room listening to music or in his house watching movies from their grand VHS collection. Most thought they spent it making it out, not that they don't do that because they are just as in love as when they got together four years ago. When they walked into any room, her parents were sure they would be kissing, which is why the open door policy exists. Well, half-open is the agreement now. 

Harry looks around her room, his eyes settling on the polaroid photo on her bedside table, one of them smiling at each other, lost in their own worlds. It's dated 06-18-1989<i<, it was from one of their many summer days spent together. He decided now was as good as time to bring up what he had been hiding. 

"You know how we were making plans for the weekend, sweetheart."

"Yes, you didn't let us decide on anything." 

"Well, what if I did?"

She sits up and moves to sit in front of him. "Okay, I'm all ears. 

"You up for a drive?"

"Always, so drive me to the moon, please." 

Harry laughs. "Serious for a sec, baby."

"Sorry, yes, go on then." She interrupts him once more. "How far is the drive? You're not always the best driver."

"Ouch" Harry has his hand over his heart, feigning as if her words had pierced him. "Guess I won't tell you."

"That's fine." 

"Yeah. Is it?" 

"Yup." 

"Why's that?" He's confused; she's usually begging to know by now. 

"Simple, because I just won't give you any kisses."

"That's cruel."

"Oh well. I don't play fair." 

"Think you can resist me, sweetheart?" 

"Oh, I know I can." 

Harry shakes his head, response ready, but she stops him. "Remember who asked who out five different times."

"That's because you were playing hard to get. Claiming you just wanted to be friends for a little longer." 

"That was tru-" It's his turn to stop her.

 "Ah, yes, I know. I was getting impatient. Don't know if you know this or not, darling, but I had to scare off a lot of boys. 

"Trust me, H. I knew" 

"You did?" 

"Yes, I think it was because everyone knew sooner or later I was going to put you out of your misery."

"Yeah, by saying yes." 

"Oh no, I was going to say no."

"What changed?" Clearly, something had, and he just had to know. 

"You decided to show up at school wearing your Sunday best and brought me sunflowers. Told me they reminded you how much light I brought into your life. There I decided yes, he'll make a fine boyfriend."

Harry's smile is big, dimples on display just for her. Always for her. "You tease too much."

"But you love it."

"I do." He leans in and smiles as she lets him lead the kiss. It's slow and full of love. A love that only continues to grow each moment they are together. "I really do."

Y/N leans in, wanting to give him more kisses, wanting to be connected to him, wanting him to always feel her love. She's not sure how much time has passed when Harry pulls away. 

"You do realize we got sidetracked." 

"Yes, worth it if you ask me." She looks pleased. "Now you have to tell me, I gave you kisses."

Harry runs his thumb over her bottom lip, asking for another. She puckers her lips leaning forward, and connects their lips in a short soft kiss.

"Friday night, the Forum."

Y/N's eyes go wide; she was not expecting to hear that.

"No."

"Yes."

She sits there taking it in.

"Say it, baby." Harry likes that he managed to surprise her. 

"You got us tickets for Elton John." She whispers out, her eyes now locked with his needing him to confirm it.

"Yes, I did." 

"A sold-out show."

"Think it's going to be a fun night."

"How?" Although Y/N has an idea.

"Well, I called in on a favor with our dear friend Sarah and the radio station she's interning at." 

"I love her." She breathes out.

"Hey," Harry knocks her out of her gaze. "And me." 

"Of course, I love you." She moves forward, seating herself in his lap. "I love you. I can't believe you did this for me." 

"Yes, can't let you go off to uni without experiencing a concert." 

"You are perfect, Styles."

"Perfect for you."

There's so much love in between them; if anyone walked into the room, they'd be able to feel it. 

"Wait." Her hands now resting on his chest, a frown taking over her face. "How are we going to convince my parents." 

"Already done. Told them the plan and the itinerary, and your parents have agreed." 

"Perfect, I'm telling." 

"Is this why we're walking to school tomorrow?" She remembers him telling her he won't have his car. 

"Yes, taking it to the mechanic. I just want to make sure all is okay." 

"Marry me?" 

Harry can feel his cheeks warming up; she always makes him blush. He takes hold of her left hand and brings it up to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss on her ring finger. 

"All in good time, my love."

_____

The week had dragged on, but it was finally Friday. She had been excited all week, and everyone could tell. Told her how she was jumpier, a lot more smiley, and twice as affectionate with Harry. She was happy.

She's at home getting ready; they would be leaving soon. Seeing as it was still a bit of a drive and no doubt would get stuck in traffic, seeing as they aren't the only ones attending the show. 

Y/N had gone over outfit after outfit until she finally decided on what she is wearing now. She's wearing a deep red power shoulder tucked into her favorite high-waist denim that makes her waist and butt look extra good. 

As she walks down the stairs, she hears the door and knows Harry is here to take her away. No matter what, he always stepped up to the door to pick her up; it still made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. 

Her father is at the door speaking with Harry going over her extended rules and what numbers to call for an emergency. 

"Well, aren't you a dream," Harry looks her up and down; she does a slow spin for him on the heel of her black boots to give him the full look. "I'm a lucky man." 

"Glad you know it, H." 

She grabs hold of his brown leather jacket and runs her finger down it, it's an old one, but he takes such good care of it; one would think he just got it today. 

"Think you just took my breath away, H." She swears there are hearts in her eyes as she takes him in.

"That's exactly what I was going for." 

Harry and Y/N bid her parents goodbye; they wish them a safe journey. Her mother was excited to send her off; her father was a bit more worried but trusted Harry to keep her safe. 

The drive to the arena is filled with conversation over the upcoming year, Harry's final football season, and her volunteering hours how she was hoping to be accepted into the NICU's internship at their hospital. Also, lots of singing on the radio as well as Harry's CDs. From ABBA to Shania Twain, he had, but they settled on Elton John for the ride. 

In what feels like no time, they had arrived. Y/N is amazed at how big it is; she doesn't know much about the place just from what Sarah told her that it was large and no matter where she sat, she was going to have the best time of her life. Already having Harry at her side, she had no doubt about it. She can't stop smiling, and neither can Harry.

Harry grabs her hand as they both stare at the arena, where hundreds of people are lining up to enter. 

"Ready, love." 

"Yes, gosh. I might throw up from the excitement." 

"Oh no, let's get you a pop. It'll help."

"That sounds nice." Y/N leans up and gives him a gentle kiss. "Thank you, H." 

"Angel, I am more than happy to do this for you." 

Hand in hand, they walked into the arena, ready to sing their hearts out together. 

_____

Two hours of singing and dancing her heart off, and yet it still wasn't enough to tire Y/N out. Harry was sure she'd be clinging to his arm as he pulled her out of the arena, but she had asked him to wait out the crowd, and they stood in the emptying arena, arms around each other. He could feel her heart beating against his chest, and it was still pumping hard. He kissed her lips one final time before swinging his arm over her shoulder and guiding them out to the chilly Los Angeles air. 

Y/N was all smiles, and she thinks it has to do with the man whose curls have fallen flat from all the sweating they did inside the arena. Being in a room packed around thousands of people will do that. She has never been in such a happy and united environment. 

It's a memory she's going to cherish forever. 

The drive home is full of retelling of their favorite parts of the night. Harry decided his was when Y/N turned to kiss him during "Your Song." He felt himself fall in love with her all over again. It's a feeling he never wants to end. 

Y/N's had to have been each outfit change. There were so many that she lost track, but she loved how unique each outfit was. It's something she knew she could never pull off, but she admired the beauty of each one. It was over the top and full of colors; it kept her mesmerized. It reminded her of life and how filled with color it really is. Also, when Harry sang his heart out during "Tiny Dancer." How he knew every lyric and didn't miss a beat, if she's honest, she didn't bother looking at the stage for the entire song too entranced in Harry. 

The smile does not leave their face, not during the traffic of getting on the freeway, not when they stopped by McDonald's and got burgers and decided to share a coke, and not even when they saw the sign welcoming back into Aurora. 

Y/N's smile didn't drop until Harry parked his car right in front of her house. She sits back against the seat and turns her head to already find a bashful Harry smiling at her. 

"Come here." He whispers. 

She unbuckles and sits in his lap, it may have been a few hours, but she missed being this close to him. 

Y/N didn't wait for Harry to ask; she simply leaned in and connected his strawberry lips with hers. She loved how soft they always were, and she knew she'd keep letting him steal her lip balms if they did such an excellent job keeping them soft and tasting sweet; then again, that could be all Harry. She lets out a small moan when Harry swipes his tongue on her bottom lip, asking for entrance, and she happily grants it. 

She wishes she can stay here forever, in his arms, kissing his lips, never having to stop. 

"Baby," Harry breathes against her lips.

Y/N knows what he's going to say; she's not ready to say goodnight. Instead, she keeps kissing him. "Just a little longer." She mutters against his lips.

Harry can't bring himself to pull away again and nods, allowing her to take control. He has a tight grip on her thigh, he wishes to move it higher, but he knows if he does, she won't be going inside tonight. She moves her lips down his jaw pressing gentle kisses.

"You drive me crazy." 

"Feelings mutual, darling." 

Harry pulls her back up and kisses her plush mouth. She tastes sweet, something he never pinpoints; all he knows is that it's intoxicating. He presses one final kiss on her lips and pulls back. She's breathing heavy, a large grin on her face. He knows he looks just as dazed. 

"Think you got to get inside now." 

"Don't want to leave you." She grabs a fist of his jacket, pulling herself closer. 

"I'll be here tomorrow afternoon."

She pouts. "Why so late?"

"Because you're going to want to sleep in." He brushes a bit of her hair away, she leans into his touch; she loves how delicate each touch is. 

"What if you come early and then cuddle me? Mom won't turn you away."

"She might."

"Not after I walk in and tell her how amazing the night was." She cups his cheeks, rubbing her thumb affectionately on his smooth skin. "She's got a sweet spot for you."

"And you." He reminds her. 

"Well, of course. I'm her daughter." She laughs but knows she hasn't convinced him. "Please," she whispers. She flashes him her best puppy dog look, knowing he won't be able to resist.

"Fine. I'll be here at eight, darling." 

"Perfect." She gloats. 

"Let me walk you up." 

Harry helps her back into the passenger seat so they can both head out. He grabs her hand, pulling her in close, not wanting her far for the last moments he has her. 

"You want to know something, H." She whispers, keys in her hand.

"What is it, angel?"

"I want to travel the world with you."

"The world." He gasps. "It's a big place, baby. Where would we start?" 

"London got to see the place you grew up before moving here. Of, course we'll save up and just spend the year traveling wherever life takes us."

"That sounds perfect." 

She hums, deep in thought, picturing visiting all these places she's only dreamed of with him by her side. To see the Eiffel tower, walk the streets of Scotland, and swim in the Amalfi Coast waters. 

"Dove," He hums, playing with a loose string of her jeans. "Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere you want. I'll make sure to take you wherever you want to go." 

"Take me to the stars, dovie."

"As you wish, my sweet angel." 

Harry brings his right hand up to her face and gently cups her cheek; she sighs, knowing precisely what he's going to do. She tilts her head up and feels his lips against her. It's the softest kiss of the night; it's gentle. It's her favorite kiss, the goodnight kiss, a promise to see her tomorrow. 

She breaks away the first time tonight, knowing if he kept going a moment longer, she wouldn't let him go. "Goodnight, H," She whispers as she begins to open the door. 

"Goodnight, love." 

Harry turns and walks to his car as he hears the door shut and hears her turn the lock. Once in his car, he takes a look up at her window, sends a final smile as he sees her waving him off.

He feels so much joy always being around her, but tonight it seems to have multiplied by a hundred. He knew tonight was perfect, but his favorite part wasn't even at the concert; it was standing outside her door as they spoke of their future together.

Happiness isn't always about the big moments but also about these small moments that make them feel invincible.

JUNE 1998

Y/N grabs a book from her bookshelf, not bother glancing at which one knowing if she stopped to read each title, she would be there all day. She heads to the yard, a picnic blanket tucked under her arm, so she can lay on it and soak in a bit of the sun. 

Her mother is trimming the leaves of the roses, wanting the flower to pop out more. Her father usually helps her, but he's finishing up last-minute work before coming out to join them. He has a good view of them from his office window. When she was young, he told her he chose this room because it's where her mom spends all her time, and he likes having his eye on her as she joins the beauty of her flowers. Y/N's known love all her life, and she's happy her parents have each other, but she can't help but feel like she let that one-of-a-kind love go years ago and fears she'll never find it again.

As she settles down on her blanket, she decides to rid herself of all thoughts and instead get lost in the words of Stephen King. She picked up a psychological horror. She remembers her father mentioning it was a good read and that she'd enjoyed it. Two pages in, and she knows she's hooked; it looks like she will be laying out here all day. 

At least that's what she thought when her mother interrupted her. 

"When are you meeting everyone?" 

Y/N puts the book down on her chest and looks over at her mom, who's still got her eyes on her roses. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"When are you meeting everyone?" Her mother repeats herself.

"Tomorrow."

"Time, darling?" 

"At one."

She hums in response. "I leave you in charge, and please be watchful over my roses." 

"Of course, I would never think of damaging your roses. Well, my roses, really." Y/N corrects. 

"Just because they were planted in your honor does not mean they are yours. You've cared for them for such little time."

"Excuse me, mother. I went off to university, but once I'm done and ready to settle down, I will be doing all the caring."

"Yes, because you will have time as a doctor." Her mother responds sarcastically. 

"I will be able to." 

Her mother decided to move on, knowing how stubborn Y/N can be. "Your father and I have lunch and dinner plans out of town, so you'll have the house to yourself for most of the day and night."

"You're treating me like I'm sixteen again, and it's my first time having friends over." 

Her mom laughs, and Y/N can't help but join. "You're forever, my little girl."

"Cheesy." Y/N teases.

Y/N leans back and gets comfortable, all thoughts of tomorrow pushed away and instead gets lost in the town of Bridgton, Maine. 

_____

It's time; everyone is making their way over. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, thankful there's a nice breeze outside to keep her cool. Y/N and her mom cooked pasta with grilled chicken and strawberry lemonade wanting to be ready for after the digging. Y/N would feel bad making them dig a hole, open a box, then head on out. These people are her friends, and she wishes to spend time with them, and what better than with food.

She's got ten minutes before everyone is due to arrive when she hears a car pull up and turn off right in front of her house. Y/N knows of only one person who shows up early.

Harry. 

Y/N thought he would be the last to arrive, but she's guessing old habits die hard. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door and walking out.

Harry would be lying if he wasn't nervous. He's about to see Y/N for the first time after years. He's seen her in photos; he knows she only continued to become more beautiful as the years passed. It's not the same as, no, because he knows what's separating them is a walk up to the door. 

He feels precisely as he did the moment he asked her out and, if he's truthful, how she made him feel their entire relationship. Harry's 26, but his heart feels 18, and at that age, he was deeply in love with the woman inside that house. He loves her just the same.

Harry takes a long deep breath before slowly letting it out. He could do this; he got out of his car and made his way up the path, where she was already standing waiting for him. It felt like no time had passed as if he was coming over to take her on a date--except they weren't even close enough to say they were friends. 

"Harry," She breathes out as he reaches the first step. 

"Hi" He sends her a small smile. "You look great." 

Y/N feels her cheek flush, and knows he can notice now that he's right in front of her. She takes in her outfit; it's simple, just a cropped red long-sleeved tee and black pants, with an old pair of black sneakers. 

"Thank you, Harry. As do you." And he really does. He's wearing loose green denim joggers with a matching jacket. He has left it open, showing a brown button-up, a silver cross necklace peeking out from the space he left unbuttoned. "Always on time still."

"Better early than late." 

She nods, not sure if she should continue the conversation or not. Are they going to stand out here in silence? It was never this hard; she hates this. Y/N rather keep talking than let themselves stand there in silence for another eight minutes. 

She clears her throat. "How'd med school go? Have you decided on a residency yet? Anne told me you were weighing your options." 

Harry doesn't try to hide his shock. "You spoke to my mum?" He asks in disbelief. 

Y/N grins as much as his English accent is fading; it always comes back when saying 'mum,' or well, when he's nervous. 

She nods. "I visit her when I visit my family. Recently passed when I came to see my mother who was feeling down and lonely as she put it even though she has dad to keep her company."

Harry smiles, knowing what weekend she was talking about because he had come the week after, and Lorelai had told him she was no longer as lonely. He thought it might have been because of his company, but it was because her daughter was home for a weekend.

When he's about to tell her where he decided, she waits patiently, staring up at him, a shy smile on her face but stops when Sydney comes and tackles Y/N in a hug. 

"Of course, Styles got first dibs on you." Sydney fakes her exasperation. 

"He knows how to be punctual." Y/N teases. "Looks like you bring the others as always." She signals seeing two more cars park; they park in the empty driveway.

"Just like old times," Zac screams out two bottles of wines in his hands. Mitch and Sarah walk up behind him, agreeing. 

Y/N looks around, and it's almost like old times. Just one small difference that makes her heartache. 

Everyone greets each other, sharing long hugs, and it's not long after that she invites everyone in and into the backyard. 

"Mom says if we mess up her roses, we are dead meat," Y/N informs them all as they all stand in a semi-circle under the spot they buried their time capsule. 

Mitch steps and pats Harry on the back. "If anything does happen, just say it was Harold. Lorelai has a soft spot for him." 

Sarah approaches water in her hand. "Y/N is her golden child who does no wrong, easy to forgive."

Y/N laughs. "Enough. No roses will be damaged. Are we clear?" 

She gets a chorus of "yes."

"Great, there are clear instructions that only Zac and Harry are allowed to shovel. Sorry, Mitch, mom said we've got to take care of your musical hands."

Mitch nods in appreciation. 

"What about the doctor? No care for him." Harry mutters a small smile on his face.

"Quiet Styles, you're a favorite still," Zac tells him, pushing a shovel into his chest. 

Y/N's happy watching the banter; it's like she's sixteen again, and they are trying to see who could dig their side of the hole faster. 

SEPTEMBER 1988 - TIME CAPSULE 

"High school friendships aren't known to last," Zac speaks out randomly, breaking everyone out of their conversations.

Harry sighs, "You're a downer." 

"I'm a realist." 

Y/N takes this in; she hasn't thought years down the line. She just assumed they would always be in her life. She can't see herself without them.

"What if we aren't friends ten years down the road?" Y/N voices.

Harry instantly picks up the concern in her voice. "I promise I won't let that happen, lovie." He assures her. 

"H, I know." 

"It's not uncommon for others to drift, especially when everyone has a different path after high school." Sydney comments. "My sister went through it."

"Let's write a letter, and we can bury it, open it ten years, but we have to do it together," Sarah suggests.

"Not a bad idea." Everyone nods in agreement.

"Let's do a letter and something important to us." Y/N proposes already having an idea of what to put.

"It's settled. We're burying a time capsule." Harry states. 

"One problem." 

"What now, Zac?" Sarah groans. 

"Where do we bury it?"

Slowly everyone turns their gaze on to Y/N. 

"Your house," Sydney tells her. 

"You all agree?" Y/n is surprised. 

"Your mom will never leave her house. It's gorgeous."

"Also," Zac chimes in, "You love it and tell us how it's going to be yours one day."

Y/N sighs and nods. "I will ask and will let you know."

_____

It took a lot to convince her mother, but her father liked the idea and supported her. Two against one, Y/N knew her mom was in a losing fight. After lots of hugs and kisses and promises of doing the dishes for two weeks straight, she got permission. 

They had decided on a Saturday, wanting to do it early in the morning, unsure how long they would take digging the hole. Her mom designated an area for them to open. 

Her mom allowed her to have the house to themselves, trusting them not to do anything but dig a hole. Y/N had everyone promise they would be on their best behavior. 

Harry and Zac volunteered to dig, and no one argued. It took over an hour for them to get a decent-sized hole. It looked tiring, but Y/N enjoyed watching Harry's muscle flex as he threw out dirt. Finally, being satisfied with the hole size, mainly Sydney, made them go longer; it was time to place their items inside. 

Y/N rewrote her letter a few times, never knowing the right thing to say. It wasn't until she was lying on the floor of her room with Harry's head in her lap did she know what she wanted to tell her future self. 

Mitch went first, putting in his first-ever guitar pic, Sarah her Walkman, Harry followed with a copy of Romeo and Juliet, Y/N a chained rose ring, she put it in but not before giving it a small kiss knowing she'd miss it. Zac decided on his baseball mitt, and Sydney threw in a signed polaroid of herself, knowing it'd be worth a lot more once she became famous for her art.

Harry locked it shut with the final object in the box and lowered it down with Mitch's help. It fit well, and they sat around as it began to fill with dirt. 

"Ten years, we'll come back and open it up." 

"Yeah, but like summertime. I'm sure we'll have more time during the summer than other months." Zac might be right for once. 

"June 1998," Sarah suggests. 

Everyone thinks about it for a second, it feels so far away, a lifetime, really, but yes, they all agree. 

Ten years' time, they will all be digging it up and will relive these moments. 

JUNE 1998 

Harry removes his jacket half an hour in, and there is nothing to complain about. He tosses it close to her side, and Y/N knows if things were different, he would have gently thrown it at her, and without a second thought, she would have put it on. She missed the times when he loved her. Because as much as she can't admit it out loud, she still loves him. 

Now she'll fake conversation with Sydney when her real focus is on Harry and how his muscles seem to grow every time he scoops some dirt out and adds to the pile. He's grown buff over the years, he was always tall and firm in high school due to football, but now he's more defined. The most significant change was in his face, more stern. Not as smiley; it might just be due to being around her. He must hate being in her presence after she broke his heart. 

Y/N lets herself get lost in thought when Zac cheers. She looks down, and peeking out in the corner is brown wood.

"We've hit gold." 

In the next five minutes, Zac and Harry dig as much of the sides as they can, and soon enough, they are lifting it out before settling it down with a big "thump." 

Y/N can't stop eyeing it; it's got dirt in every spot that meets her eye, but she knows what's waiting for her inside of that box, and she can't wait to have it with her once more. 

"Who's going to do the honors?" Mitch asks the bolt cutters in his hand, ready to hand them over.

Everyone looks around at each other; no one says a thing until Harry steps forward and reaches to take them from his hand. Mitch hands them to Harry, no question asked. Harry heads straight to Y/N; he stretches his arm out, waiting for her to accept the cutters.

"Think it's only fair Y/N does the honors, seeing as we made her do a lot of groveling to Lorelai ten or so years ago just for us to bury this; not that she let any of us know." Harry smiles, urging her to take it. Y/N fingers brush his rather quickly, but in that small second, she felt her heart rate pick up and fears he might hear it, although that is almost impossible. 

"Thank you." He nods, urging her forward. 

"Take your time, doll." Zac says sarcastically." 

Y/N is too busy getting down on her knees in front to see the glare Harry sent Zac's way. Everyone else catches the look; believe it or not, they all hope this is the moment that brings these two once lovers back again. 

"Here goes nothing." 

Y/N places the bolt cutters between the lock and counts down to three; it breaks right off the first try.

"You've got some strength!" Sydney exclaims; she was expecting it to take much longer.

Y/N lets the lock fall before reaching up and pulling the single latch. She scans everyone circling around her before opening the crate hating the creaking sound it releases. 

There on top are their most prized items from when they were sixteen. 

Sydney reaches in first, pulling out a polaroid and pink envelope. She flips it over and lets out the biggest laugh. Sydney turns the photo around, letting everyone see her in the photo wearing her then boyfriend's varsity jacket. It has her signature on the page. "I swore I was going to be famous for my art and would sell this for thousands." 

"One day." Harry offers. 

Sydney shrugs. "My boyfriend will appreciate this the most if I'm honest."

"He's that crazy for you?" Sarah asks.

Sydney nods, a shy smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm fortunate." She laughs, letting the moment pass. "Enough, Zac, please, you're next."

Zac, for the first time the whole evening, has fallen silent, almost looks nervous to reach inside. He takes a deep breath to go to the corner of the box and pull out a beat-up baseball mitt. Y/N can see his eyes well up with tears. He chuckles, "I swore I was going to go pro, but that senior injury year changed everything. In a way, Zac felt free; he got to pursue a career in travel journalism. "Enough sap, I volunteer, Harry." 

Harry nods, moving forward, sitting next to Y/N thighs touching; she feels her breath hitch; she doesn't dare move. He reaches in for the only book it's resting on the bottom, a white envelope with a scribbled 'H' on top. He sets the envelope aside but keeps the book in hand.

Harry smiles at the book in hand, Romeo and Juliet. It was not his favorite by any means, but it held a special place in his heart because it was the first book Y/N read to him when they first started dating. He remembers telling her he hated how she ignored him for words on paper, so he proposed she read to him aloud, and that way, they could bond. Y/N was thrilled at the idea; the first book was Shakespeare because it was a reading assignment, and she wanted it done that weekend.

 Harry hated the ending; he remembers ranting to Y/N as she ran her fingers through his hair to calm him down. He didn't understand why Shakespeare made these two people who were star-crossed lovers fall in love in a week only to have them die. 

Safe to say, it took a while to let Y/N read another one of Shakespeare's works. 

Y/N's eyes were on the book, and she watched as Harry carefully opened it to the first page, moving it back so that only they could read what was written on the cover page. 

It read: I've loved you for six months. I'll love you for six more. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get to love you for life. Love, Y/N xxx

Y/N felt tears behind her eyes; she had to look away. She was so naïve at the age, but oh how she loved him, and she knew he loved her just the same. Y/N was so grateful to know she was loved, even if it was years ago.  

She doesn't want to go next; instead, Sarah reaches in to save her. Sarah pulls out her folded half of paper and her blue Walkman player. "Oh my goodness, this is going to have some golden tunes." 

Mitch chuckles, "You suffered without it. Think was the first time I ever heard you complain about something." 

Sarah sends him a playful glare. "Shut it! Why don't you go next, Mr. Sentimental."

Mitch is one to never say no to Sarah, so he shrugs and makes his way forward. Patting Harry on the shoulder causing Harry to shift closer to Y/N. Both Harry and Y/N don't say anything but don't bother to move away either. 

Sarah smiled as she watches Mitch pick up a guitar pick. It was the first one he received from his father. "Dad always said I had a guitar in hand." 

"Mitch, you've voiced your thoughts out loud." Harry jokes. 

"Funny Styles." That's the last of what Mitch says as he moves back to read his letter, and Sarah follows close behind. 

Y/N feels everyone staring, but really it's only just Harry. Everyone focused on their own letters but also waiting for a reaction. She slowly reaches in, first pulling out the pink envelope with her initial on the front; Harry wrote it for her, saying she needed a way to identify it years later. 

She sets it in her lap before reaching in and getting the item she's been thinking about all day. 

A silver rose ring. 

It was a gift from Harry; Y/N always spoke of roses and how much her mother loved them. Leading to Harry finding out she loved them just as much. He wore this ring for a long time; he found it in a store in London before they made the move here permanently. It's his last real piece of home, but Aurora had become home, and so had Y/N. It felt right to give to her. She cried, receiving it, and knew it wouldn't fit but told him not to get it resized. She surprised him by wearing it around her neck; she put it on a chain she had. There wasn't a day she wasn't seen without it. 

She holds it tightly in her hand as if Harry might rip it out of her hand, wanting it back, but it's hers, and it's special. Y/N never wants to forget her memories with Harry, no matter how much it hurts, thinking back on them. 

"I've missed it." She whispers. 

Y/N slips it over her head, letting it rest outside her shirt for all to see. She missed the look on Harry's face, but this might be the motivation he needs to speak with her. To talk about where they are now in life. 

Except Y/N stands up, brushing the dirt that was on her pants to head somewhere more private to read her letter she wrote to herself. She walks a few feet away and flips open the pink tab, pulls out a folded paper. Her eyes immediately go to the bottom of the page, wherein black ink, it says, "I love Harry (PS: he made you write that, but it doesn't make it any less true." 

Everything surrounded him; her love for him was just that large. She reads over her letter taking in the words of how her sixteen-year-old self said she was proud of her and that no matter what happens, it was all for a reason.

It's exactly what she needed to hear. 

Harry is watching Y/N stand there read her letter, and he feels the gaze of everyone else to go approach her. Years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about it, he would have been at her side holding her hand or rubbing her back, but now he doesn't even know if they are even friends. Mitch nudges him, and he knows he should check on her, but she surprises everyone by turning around, a grin on her face. 

"Mom and I cooked lunch, so let's wash up and eat. All this sure has built up my appetite." 

"Don't have to tell me twice." Zac smiles, walking inside heading straight to the kitchen sink. 

The others begin to follow Zac inside when Y/N stops hearing her name being called. It's Harry standing by the hole, shovel in hand. 

"Should I cover it up?"

Y/N can't help the smile, Harry was always so eager to help, and she's glad his kind helping sport hasn't changed. "No, dad is going to cover it. Mom told him he needs to do more yard work. She called it bonding time." 

"Okay, if you're sure." 

"I am." 

"Let's head in then." 

As Harry is about to walk past her, she reaches her hand out, grabbing his bicep, surprising him. "Thank you." 

He nods his head. "Of course." 

Y/N sighs; there's so much left unsaid. Their breakup fresh on her mind seeing him walk away from her, bringing it all back. Oh, how she wishes things were different. 

She doesn't regret leaving for New York, but she does wonder if there was a way to have made their relationship work; would it have survived or crashed and burned. 

In a way, she's glad she never had to find out. 

Y/N puts her brave face on; she's surrounded by friends who love her and who she hasn't spoken to for longer than half an hour. She's going to soak in this time and enjoy it. 

There are other times to be sad.

MARCH 1990 - ACCEPTANCES

Y/N and Harry were both lost in thought as Harry drove them to their destination. There was a lot to think about

Harry was proud to get a full-ride football scholarship to UCLA and a partial for USC. They were close to home, and he got to play a sport he was good at. These universities were tough to get into, but he impressed the recruits. He didn't bother applying outside the state, knowing he couldn't be far from home. It felt wrong for him; he knew that wasn't the case for Y/N. 

Y/N always spoke about leaving the state. She had dreamed about it from a young age especially seeing her brother do it. Gabriel's stories only make her more excited for her future. She loved to travel, no matter the distance. 

Harry, of course, knew this; he just thought he could convince her to stay. 

Applying to schools was hard for Y/N; there were many universities she wanted to apply to, but she feared rejection, so she set a limit of six. Still, a high number; she just needed options. 

When acceptances came in, each application welcomed her. Two east coast universities offered full-ride scholarships, USC offered partial and others only half. She had the money for tuition, her parents saved for her, which she is forever thankful for but knowing she could move across the country like she always dreamed of was calling her name. 

The one thing that stopped her was Harry. 

Y/N had never known love until Harry, and she knows her leaving will jeopardize that. She also knows if she stays, she might not be happy, always stuck on the "what if?"

She was distraught as soon as she heard the news. Her mom saw her pace outside, then sit, pour herself tea then began the cycle again. Y/N dreamed of Columbia. It was her dream university, and to give that up, but also having to give up Harry, she couldn't pick; she didn't want to. 

Harry parks the car; he drove them to an abandoned cliffside that's full of wildflowers. Y/N didn't rush out of the vehicle as she once would have wanted to feel the cold breeze. Now, she stares ahead, letting the car fill with silence—neither one wanting to be the one to begin the conversation that would change everything.

"Is this the end?" Y/N asks her voice, betraying her, as she feels her throat tighten up.

Harry doesn't answer; he reaches for her hand and holds it tight. 

"It doesn't have to be. I don't want it to be." She's barely holding herself together. Y/N's staring at the side of his head, silently begging for him to meet her gaze. 

"Life isn't always as easy as the last four years have been for us," Harry tells her, finally meeting her eyes. 

"I love you. You know that, right." 

"I know." He whispers. 

Y/N shuts her eyes, repeats the words in her head she hasn't been able to voice out, knowing she's going to be breaking more than one heart right now. 

"I can't stay, Harry." Y/N blinks her tears away, but they come right back, seeing Harry holding back tears. "As much as I want to, as much as I can't let you go. I also can't stay." 

"Don't let me go then." He whispers. He reaches forward, cradling her cheek in his hand. It's the softest touch he's given her. It's as if he's trying to remember how she feels. 

"It's not fair." 

"I don't care." Y/N reaches forward to wipe the tear away that managed to escape. 

"But I do." 

"I don't care." He tries again, Harry can't let her go. She's his life, he's too young to know about forever, but he doesn't want to live a life without her. "I'll go with you."

Y/N lets her tears begin to fall at his words. "No." Her voice firm. "It's over if you leave."

Harry pulls back, hurt by her words but Y/N's just as upset. 

She lets go of her hold on him and hurries out of the car. Harry yells her name, begging her to come back, but she's too busy crying to listen to him. Soon enough, she's surrounded by trees, and there are two trails to follow, but she can't pick; it is faith mocking her in the smallest of ways. Instead, she settles for sitting right in the center on a patch of grass. 

Y/N sits hunched over, crying; that's how Harry finds her. He doesn't say a word. He sits next to her and pulls her into his lap. 

"I'm sorry. So sorry, darling." 

Harry begins to rock her back and forward, letting his tears all as he rests his chin on top of her head. Begins to whisper sweet nothings, just wanting her close. He hates that they are causing each other this hurt. 

Y/N's cries have stopped; she sniffles from time to time. The holds she has on Harry is iron tight as if he'd vanish if she let go for even a second."

"Summer." She whispers, breaking the silence. 

"What?" Harry is not sure what she can mean.

"We have Summer."

"Yeah, we do." 

"We have to let each other go at the end of Summer." Her tone is final.

"Y/N-"

Y/N stops him, "Harry, I'm not letting you give up your dreams for me, and I know you won't let me do the same."

"I can't say goodbye," He confesses. 

"Then we won't. We'll kiss goodnight and pretend like we'll see each other in the morning." 

"That's heartbreaking, love." He chuckles bitterly.

"I love you, Harry Styles." 

"And I love you, my angel." 

Harry is done crying, instead leans in and kisses her like he should have done earlier as soon as he had parked the car. The kiss is fast, not soft like all the kisses he's used to giving her, no he wants her to remember this kiss. He wants her to feel everything he isn't saying. 

I love you. You're mine. You're my best friend. I will love you forever. He wants her to feel it all. 

"Show me you love me." Y/N pulls back breathless, lips plush begging to be kissed again. Harry knows what she's asking, and he's not one to deny her. 

He stands up, confusing her, but he comes prepared. Harry walks for the blanket he dumped a few feet away from them, grabbing it and spreading it out. Y/N is quick to lay back on the soft blanket. It warms her instantly. She smiles, reaching her hand up as Harry leans over her, his bottom half straddling her waist, her hand intertwining in his soft curls. Y/N brings him down for a kiss needing his touch to be close. 

Harry and Y/N are wrapped in their own world, lost in their kiss; it's always been them against the world, but soon they are going to venture off separately. It's something that neither of them wants to wrap their head around, and they won't not until they have to. 

They will enjoy graduation together, hand in hand receiving diplomas. Y/N will deliver a beautiful valedictorian speech. The joint graduation party will be a joy and one they sneak away from to spend watching the moon reflect over the ocean. It's the one place they feel at peace, the sea being a favorite of both of theirs. The Summer will bring endless days out, travels up the coast of California even as far as making it to San Francisco for a trip. There is not a second where they don't spend time together, and their parents understand; it breaks their heart, but it's their future, and all they can do is support them. Their love will only grow this Summer which makes it more heartbreaking when they say goodbye in August.

But none of that matters because, for now, they have each other, and that is enough. 

Harry pulls back, leaning his forehead against hers, their breaths mixing together. 

"I love you." 

"I love you so much; it's not going away just because--" Harry stops, not being able to voice the words out loud. He can't say it, or he'll start crying. 

"I know, dove." She trails her finger up his chest until they right over his heart. Y/N can feel how fast it's beating; it beats for her. "Maybe a day will come where we can be together again, that's if you don't find someone else, which I understand if you do."

"It's not going to happen." 

"You don't know that," She mutters. 

"Hey, I love you. No one is going to love me like you do. I'd be a fool to love someone else." Y/N settles her chin on his chest. She's staring into his eyes, trying to find a hint of a lie, but there is none. There's only love and sadness in his green orbs. 

"I love you too."

Harry sighs; there's not much they can do to brighten the mood. "You know what we can do?"

"What?" 

"Make a summer bucket list. First on my list is to kiss the prettiest girl I know every day." She laughs, making Harry break out in a big grin. "Lucky for you, that happens to be you." He tells her, booping her nose with his index finger.

Y/N laughs; it's only March. She has the rest of Spring and all of Summer to love Harry. To love him with every bone and cell in her body because that last day will come sooner than she likes. 

_____

The end of Summer arrived, and she bid Harry goodnight with a kiss at the door like normal, like he was going to show up tomorrow bright and early for breakfast and kisses, but that wasn't the case. It was goodbye, even though neither of them could admit it. 

Y/N and Harry walked away from each other; they didn't say no contact, but it was like they both silently agreed on it because there was no letters or calls to each other, no visits to each other's homes, no visiting each other parents, at least not in the beginning

The love was there, but life goes on.

JUNE 1998

After a delicious meal and second servings, everyone sits back stuffed. Everyone enjoyed a lovely home-cooked meal with entertaining conversation. Y/N enjoyed watching it happen, not participating much in conversation. She never was that interesting, she felt, always let her friends carry the conversation. She could feel Harry glance at her from time to time, but Y/N still hasn't recovered, knowing that Harry's most prized possession at sixteen was a book she wrote a note in. 

Y/N wonders if he's regretting that now. 

"Have we overstayed our welcome?" Zac asks, taking Y/N's silence as something terrible.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're fine. I like listening, fascinating conversations going on."

"Come on, share something with us." Zac urges her.

"Uhh… med school has been going well. Have all of the Summer off, might do some sightseeing before going home." 

"Yeah, driving home to Massachusetts instead of taking a plane like a normal person." Sydney winces at the thought, not at all wanting to think about the pit stops she had to make. 

"Maybe not the smartest idea, but I encountered zero troubles; my baby, Twila, runs smoothly." 

"Should get her checked out again before leaving." Harry comments.

Y/N nods. "Dad's been on my ass about that as well, but I've got no rush, especially since all I ever do here is walk around town." 

"Enough car talk, let's talk about the time Zac got his clothes stolen after gym class sophomore year." Sarah sets them off on a never-ending conversation of memories.

As soon as one story is finished, a new one is being shared. Y/N forgot most of these, but as her friends tell them, she feels each memory unlock and surfacing. The conversation goes on forever, with no end in sight because that's how friendship is; it's never-ending. Especially when all they did for four years was hanging out together, creating these memories they now are so fond of. 

It's around seven o'clock, the sun begins to set when everyone decides to head home. She walks them out, giving them hugs and promises of seeing each other again before everyone leaves town. Y/N notices Harry lingering by, but she doesn't say anything.

Y/N waves goodbye to Sarah and Mitch when Harry comes to stand by her. She waits for him to say goodbye, not going to rush him, which is why what he says next surprised her. 

"Do you want help cleaning up?" 

Harry looks shy, asking, and Y/N knows he's about to take it back, so she nods. "That'd be great." 

She walks back in, and Harry follows close behind, making sure to lock the door, just in case. "I'll rinse, and you put it in the dishwasher. Okay?" 

"Okay, yes." 

They begin to work in silence, the only sound of the running water. Y/N wonders if he's going to stay longer or if he's going to leave right after. 

God, she could really go for a glass of wine. 

As Y/N hands him the last plate, she dries her hand with the red dish towel before handing a white one over to Harry, who thanks her quietly. 

She leans back against the counter, debating asking him to stay for a drink or not. Harry catches her staring and smiles, unleashing the dimples. It seems he made the decision for her. 

"Do you want a glass of wine?" Y/N turns around, reaching up for a glass for herself, not wanting to face him just in case he rejects her. 

"Wine sounds great." 

Y/N grabs two stemmed wine glasses and opens the bottle of red wine rather quickly; she's surprised her hands aren't shaking because she's so nervous. She fills both glasses halfway before stepping forward to hand Harry his cup.

"Thank you." 

"No problem." 

Harry takes a sip, humming at the taste. Y/N isn't sure where Zac got the bottle. She's just happy it tastes good. 

"Do you want to sit outside, watch the sunset on the steps?" 

Harry agrees and steps out, holding the door open for her. She sits down, leaving room for Harry. He leaves a small space in between them. 

"I love sunsets, never the same." 

"Same as sunrises." 

"I'm not a morning person as I once was, a bit of a night owl." She shares.

"Oh really, why is that?" 

"I'm not sure." Y/N knows that's a lie; what she wanted to say is because she has no one to wake up to. No one to give morning kisses or morning cuddles. 

"You must still love mornings." 

"I do." He chuckles. "I do three-mile runs each morning." 

"Three!" She gasps. "I'd be tired the entire day; I prefer going on hikes or long walks." 

"Used to it already." 

"Pity, to your partner. Stealing cuddles from them." She mutters, taking a sip of her wine, hoping he didn't hear. 

Harry wants to respond, not sure if she was asking or stating. Oh, how he wishes he could know what she was thinking.

"Didn't know you were interested in medicine, Harry." 

"I wasn't, not until my injury." He rubs his shoulder as if he remembered the pain. "After finding out, I was done for; I just needed something entirely different. My physical therapist spoke about his journey to entering the field. He told me to enter something that captured my attention and something I would never get tired of learning about. It led me to psychiatry. My professors were great guidance." 

"John Hopkins, right?" 

"Yes, the very one." 

"Tough school." 

He laughs out loud, hand on his belly. "You're telling me, miss dean's list each semester. Graduating with highest honors from Harvard." 

"You know me, my head always stuck in a book." 

"Still don't take compliments." 

"Makes me feel weird. I love what I do; I can't wait to start and just learn it all. This sponge I call my brain is ready to absorb it all."

"I'm sure you're going to do amazing." 

"Thank you, Harry. That means a lot." She pats his knee before quickly retracting her hand back into her lap.

"Where is your residency?" Harry looks at her, a frown on his face. "Don't think I asked you." 

"Well, Harvard medical was a dream, and I wasn't ready to say goodbye, so I accepted Massachusetts General. I really love the environment they have in the hospital." She sets her wine glass down, turning her body to look at Harry. She misses the look of shock on his face. "Everyone is so kind--"

"Y/N," He tries, but she continues on.

"I went for a tour, and it was busy and crowded, but they were so kind with the children. When I entered the pediatrics ward, I just knew it's where I had to be."

"Y/N," 

"I already know who I'm going to be working under, and she's--" 

"Love," Harry tries his gaze on her face hoping to get a reaction.

That shuts Y/N right up; it has been a long time since she last heard that term of endearment. 

Her eyes are on Harry; he has her full attention. He can tell she's a bit stunned, but his news is life-changing. "I have my residency at Massachusetts General." 

"You what?" She was not expecting that news. Harry is in the same hospital as her. "Are you saying?" 

"We would have run into each other if we hadn't come home for the time capsule, yes." He answers for her. 

"Fate," she whispers.

Harry nods, eyes shining with tears. That one word was enough for Harry to know she might feel the same. 

He sees Y/N's eyes flicker to his lips, going back to his eyes, then leans in. He does the same, wanting to feel her close more than ever. 

"Y/N, you left the-" Harry and Y/N spring apart, the moment gone started by her mother. "Oh, hello, Harry."

Harry clears his throat, standing up to offer the woman who startled him a hug. "Hello Lorelai, wonderful to see you."

"How's your mother?"

"She's well. Left yesterday to visit my nephews for the weekend." 

"That's nice." 

The three now stand outside together, Y/N rocking back and forth on her heels, not able to standstill. 

"Truly wasn't expecting to see you," Lorelai tells him.

"We were catching up" Harry smiles at Y/N. "We were keeping each other company." 

"Very kind." 

"I should get going; it's late." Feeling as if he overstayed his welcome. 

Lorelai senses the tension a second too late as Harry is saying his goodbyes. "Well, please do stop by before you leave town." 

"Of course." 

"I'll walk you out." Y/N smiles at her mother as she leads Harry out through the side gate, personally wanting to avoid a run-in with her father.

Y/N, true to her word, walks him to his car; he is about to round his car, heading to the driver's seat but stops.

"Y/N?" His voice was shaky.

"Yes, Harry."

"Let's have dinner together." He rushes out in one go.

"Harry…" She pauses, "I--" 

He interrupts her. "Don't tell me you have a--" he trails off, not wanting to say the word.

"Course not." She replies quickly.

"But,"

Y/N takes a deep breath, taking a moment to get her thoughts together. "I won't do this unless this is it. This is the time I'm yours again. For good." 

"You've always been mine." He steps forward, hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She lets out a sigh, feeling a sense of peace take over her body. "Eight years and no one compared. No one ever will." 

"H." He can see the tears in her eyes. 

"I mean it. I've always been in love with you. I will always be in love with you. It will always be you."

Y/N closes the gap between them; they are the closest they have been in eight years. She searches his face for any sign of doubt but finds none. Only sees love in his beautiful emerald eyes.

"I love you." She confesses feeling a weight leave her shoulders as the words leave her mouth for the first time in years. "I never stopped. I will never stop." 

"Sweetest words I have ever heard. Words I want to hear forever." Harry's smile is one she had never seen before; it's wide, and she swears it reaches the sky. His eyes hold a shine they never have before. 

There's one last thing she needs for this moment to be perfect.

"Please kiss me."

"With pleasure." 

She's never dreamed of this moment in fear of it not happening, but it finally is, and Y/N swears she feels the stars aligned just for them. Harry's lips were getting closer, and she felt her heart skip a beat. She parted her lips and felt him washing over like a wave of warmth. She finally felt at home. Her whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on jets as his arms wrapped around her tightly, afraid that she'd disappear. Y/N's fingers slowly moved up Harry's chest until they tangled with the back of his short curls. She tugged, needing more, feeling her legs buckle at the moan Harry let out. 

All she felt was love, and she wanted to feel it forever. Y/N let Harry pull away; he didn't go far, letting his forehead rest on hers. Their breaths mix together. There's a bashful smile on Y/N's face, but this moment feels too good to be true. 

Harry and Y/N stand there wrapped in each other's arms, lost in each other's gaze as if no one else existed and there was no risk of interruption. 

"I'll be here at noon tomorrow, going to take you out if you'll let me." 

"Yes, H. I accept." She kisses him softly two more times before unwrapping herself from him, putting a bit of distance between each other, or they very well would stand there all night kissing. 

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." She confirms 

Harry steals one last kiss, short and sweet, before getting in his car. He sends her a kiss that she pretends to catch and places it over her heart. 

She knows he is blushing even though she can't see it. 

As he drives away from her, all the hurt and pain of not having him washes away. Harry is hers, and she is his. 

All is right. 

Their paths finally crossed again, and this time there would be no final goodbye. 

_____

Harry showed up the day after as promised. Y/N was eagerly waiting, she had felt time go slow when they had been apart, but it's a monumental day because once again, after so many years, Harry and Y/N are finally reunited. 

She waited on the steps of her house like she used to when she was a teen waiting for him to pick her up and take her out on a date. It was bringing back the best memories. Harry parked right in front, and just as he was rounding his car to go meet her, she was in front of jumping in his car.

"Woah!" Harry was fast to react, only stumbling a little put holding her tight. "This is a nice welcome." He teases.

"Can you blame me? I missed you." She tells him, nuzzling her face in his neck. 

"Missed you too, love. Eight years, I've missed you." 

"Don't start, H. Don't want to cry. We're here now." 

"You're right." 

Y/N has Harry set her down; they stand there smiling at each other, taking each other in. 

"Up for a drive?" 

She nods. "Will you drive me to the moon?" 

"Anywhere you want, angel." 

Harry drives them to one place she hasn't visited because of the memory it holds. She's guessing it's because he wants to create new, better ones. 

"It's still beautiful here." She looks out through the window, not wanting to leave the safety of the car. She wants to stay close to Harry. 

Y/N sits in silence with Harry holding each other's hands, allowing each other to just enjoy this time together. The calmness of being loved and feeling loved. She knows there are lots to talk about, but she settles for the quietness for now. 

She's not sure how much time has passed, but she's now facing Harry, and he's toying with the rose ring hanging on her neck.

"Y/N," he whispers; she lifts her gaze from his lilac nails and hums for him to go on. "I have to ask." She lets his words sit in their silence. She knows what he's asking, the same thing running through her mind. 

"No." She frowns. "It felt wrong. I could never-- it was never you." 

Harry can tell she feels sheepish confessing this. 

She chuckles dryly. "I must sound lame; the last person I kissed was you eight years ago."

"No, it's not." He assures her. 

She sighs, "Harry." 

"It was the same for me. My friends tried to set me up multiple times, but it felt like cheating. No one understood." 

"So you haven't…" She trails off. 

"Well acquainted with my hand." He jokes.

She burst out laughing, and seconds later, Harry is as well. Their joyous laugh fills the car but also their hearts. 

"I love you." She breathes out, trying to catch her breath.

"And I love you." 

"Want to know a secret," she asks him.

He nods.

She turns her head to the window; she can see herself and Harry in the reflection. His eyes on her full of adoration. 

"I wrote you letters, hundreds. I've lost count, really, but I've got a box full; they are locked up in mom's attic." Y/N turns, looking back at Harry; there's a soft look on his face. "I wanted to send them, but I couldn't. I didn't want to interfere."

"Darling, that's-" he chokes up, tears escaping him. "Can I read them?" 

Y/N nods, "Of course, they were intended for you after all."

"Will you read them with me?" 

"Sure, if that's what you want." 

"Do you want to know something now?"

Y/N reaches forward and brushes a loose curl back. "Tell me." 

"Each book I've read, I have written a dedication in it for you." 

"What?" She says, surprised. 

"The new bookshelf in mom's living room is filled with books." He waits for her to nod before continuing on. "All books for you."

"Harry," It's her turn to cry now, it seems.

"Thought about you just as much, angel." 

"Do you think we did the right thing, letting each other go?" 

"I do."

"Why?" 

"It brought us together again. Sure it was the time capsule, but there is also Massachusetts." He reminds her.

"Isn't that wild?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "Same residency."

"It was fate, angel. Like you said last night." 

"Yeah, guess fate had a plan, after all, dove." 

Harry chokes up, tears welling up in his eyes. "What did you say?" 

"Fate had a plan."

"After."

"Dove," she breathes out, not even noticing she slipped it in; it came out like second nature. "You're my dove, my kind man, the love of my life." 

Harry grabs her face and connects his lips to hers. It's not soft; it's fast and hot but full of love. She leaned back, feeling the heat in her cheeks. Harry chases her lips, not finished yet. She lets him kiss her as he pressed soft pecks on her lips, liking the feel of her soft lips. 

"Is it too soon to ask to marry you?" Harry asks, trailing kisses down her neck. 

"No, never too soon." She giggles as he kisses a soft spot right under her jaw. "If I recall, I asked you one too many times during high school." 

Harry chuckles, nodding. "Should have accepted sooner." 

She looks at him, not being able to contain her laughter, knowing very well he should have.

"Marry me." He asks, all traces of laughter gone. He holds his breath, waiting for a response. 

"Yes, of course, dove." 

Harry seals it with a kiss. She accepted, and yes, it may seem rushed, but they aren't getting any younger. Their love was put on hold, and now because the time is right, they get to pick up as if no time passed at all. 

They are different people, but Harry and Y/N have only become more perfect for one another. 

2000 DECEMBER - MASSACHUSETTS 

Her eyes snap open, and she quickly sits up, throwing the blanket off herself feeling hot and unfocused, startling Harry making him drop the Pop-Tart he was eating to fall on his chest. 

She looks back at Harry, sitting up with crumbs covering his mouth and half-eaten brown sugar cinnamon sitting on top of his black sweats. 

Y/N can't help but laugh at the sight in front of her, her nightmare now pushed aside. 

"You're laughing." He pouts. "You gave me a proper scare." 

She frowns, "I had a bad dream." 

"Yeah, want to talk about it?" 

She shakes her head no, instead asking him an important question. "Why are you eating Pop-Tarts in bed?" She picks up the broken half and takes a bite, appreciating the strong cinnamon flavor. 

"I got hungry, but I didn't want to leave you alone, and honestly, I'd never willingly leave your cuddles." 

"Did you bring me my own?" She mutters, swallowing the last piece of his.

"Why, of course, I'm no monster." 

"What time are you going in today?" She asks as she opens up the package handing him half since she ate his. He happily accepts. 

"Noon." 

She glances at the alarm clock and sees it is only nine am. She mumbles an 'okay,' settling herself to lay her head on his chest. 

"How are you spending your day off?" His hand running through her hair, always wanting to be touching her in some way.

"In bed." 

Harry doesn't like that. "Still feeling sick." He states.

"Yes, but I'm fine." 

"Okay, but we do work in a hospital." He playfully reminds her.

She lets out a deep sigh. "I'll have Annie check on me tomorrow." 

"Thank you." He kisses her temple, definitely leaving crumbs of food behind.

"I love you, Harry." 

"I love you too." 

Y/N and Harry had come a long way from the Summer of 98'. They got back together and were excited to start the next chapter of their lives together. Their families were thrilled at the news of them getting back together and even happier when they learned about their shared residency location. 

That Summer led them to where they are now; two years into their residency programs and one year into marriage. 

Harry could not wait; he had wanted to take her to city hall for a quick signature but knew she deserved better. They were wed in the botanical garden under the beautiful flower arch she dreamed of. It was the wedding she always dreamed of; it was small and beautiful. Only their closest friends and family were in attendance. Their wedding photo; Harry gazing at her as if she put all the stars in the sky and Y/N smiling at the camera. It sits framed on Y/N's bedside. He decided it went there, so when he turns to look over at her, he sees all of her beauty laid out for him and the happiest day of his life. 

Harry had fought her on changing her last name, wanting her to be called Doctor Y/LN because she worked for it and was a man who wanted his wife to shine and do all she set her mind to. Harry went as far as suggesting hyphenating but still no. She changed her last name to 'Styles.' Y/N told him she spent years dreaming about it in high school, even years later when he wasn't by her side. It's an honor to share his last name because one day, their future children would as well. 

Y/N has a year left in her pediatrics residency, and Harry has two years to go. She has her fellowship to think about, which will add three more years; her focus on Critical Care Medicine. Harry has decided on Addiction Psychiatry which is only a year-long, but he's got his last two years to worry about first. 

Life has been going well, they've had their fair share of arguments but nothing they can't fix. Harry can't say he doesn't love making up; it always leads to a good time.

They didn't know what life had in store for him but looking around at the photos they have hanging up, a picture of Mitch and Sarah's little boy Nathaniel who only gets bigger every time they see him. A photo of Sydney showing off her engagement ring, face full of tears but smile large; Zac off traveling the country smiling in his picture of him visiting the Grand Canyon part of his trip to visit each National Park and document his journey. 

This group of six friends is living their dreams; at sixteen, none of them know what life would be like twelve years down the road, but if it wasn't for each of them having this friendship and deciding to bury a time capsule, they might not be where they are right not; happier and more in love than ever. 

Harry and Y/N are filled with love and know life couldn't be better than it is; incredibly grateful to be in love and be loved back just the same. 

Little do they know their love will soon have to be shared.

_____

Thank you so much for reading! 

I love you and I hope you loved this story <3