Four-year-old Callie Di Laurentis has spent her entire life growing up inside Briar college raised by teenagers. Most kids know playgrounds and daycare. Callie knows locker rooms, ice rinks, team buses, study sessions, and college lectures. She lives at the hockey house, and while Dean is her dad and loves her more than anything, the truth is that it takes a village to raise a child—and the Briar hockey team has become hers.
Y/N has been part of the Inner Circle for centuries, long before Feyre Archeron ever arrived in Velaris. Born Illyrian like Azriel and Cassian, she earned her place through sheer skill, becoming one of the Night Court’s most trusted spies and one of the few warriors capable of keeping up with the Shadowsinger himself. She and Azriel have spent decades side by side—training together, bleeding together, and disappearing on missions that should have gotten them both killed. Somewhere along the way, the line between partners and something more became impossible for anyone else to ignore. Around the rest of the world, Azriel is quiet, intimidating, and nearly impossible to read. Around Y/N, he is different. His shadows constantly curl around her wrists and shoulders, seeking her out the moment she enters a room. His hand is almost always resting on her waist, her shoulder, or the small of her back, guiding her through crowded rooms without even thinking about it. He leans close when he speaks to her, his rare smiles reserved almost entirely for her, and she is one of the only people who can draw teasing remarks from him. Cassian claims Azriel follows her around like a lovesick idiot. Mor agrees. Rhys finds it endlessly amusing. Even Amren occasionally looks up from her book to tell them to either get together or stop making everyone watch the slowest courtship in Prythian’s history.
John Dutton had spent years helping his friend in social services by taking in troubled teenage boys. Usually they were seventeen or eighteen, old enough to work as ranch hands and old enough to understand the rules. Some stayed a few months, some stayed for years, and a few became family. So when his friend called one afternoon and told him she had a placement, he barely looked up from his paperwork. That was until she said, “It’s a fourteen-year-old girl.” John immediately said no. A ranch wasn’t a place for a little girl, especially one coming out of foster care. But his friend kept pushing. “She’s one of the hardest workers I’ve ever met. She’s incredible with horses, and before you ask, yes, she can outwork half the boys you’ve taken in.” John still wasn’t convinced. Then her voice softened. “John… this kid’s life has been harder than any fourteen-year-old girl’s should ever be.” A week later, Y/N stepped onto the Yellowstone with a battered duffel bag over her shoulder, a split lip, fading bruises around her neck that looked suspiciously like fingerprints, and a look in her eyes that said she’d learned a long time ago not to expect kindness from anyone. She wasn’t shy, either. Within an hour she’d argued with Rip, rolled her eyes at Beth, and informed John that if he expected her to sit around doing “girl stuff,” he could send her right back. What nobody expected was that the tiny foster kid knew horses better than most of the ranch hands and could ride bulls like she’d been born doing it. The first time the bunkhouse saw her stay on a bull longer than a grown man twice her size, they completely lost their minds. After that she became everyone’s little sister whether she liked it or not. Since there wasn’t really a place for her in the main house, she stayed in the bunkhouse. The ranch hands pretended not to care, but before long there was always an extra plate saved for her at dinner, someone making sure she had a jacket when it got cold, and somebody watching out for her whenever she disappeared into town. Beth became viciously protective almost immediately. The second she realized Y/N apologized for everything and flinched whenever voices got too loud, something in her snapped. Rip started teaching her everything he knew about ranch work, pretending it was because she needed training when really he was checking on her every chance he got. John fought getting attached harder than anyone, but it became impossible. He started asking where she was when she missed dinner. Started watching rodeos if she was competing. Started introducing her as “one of ours” without even realizing he’d done it. Then one night, long after everyone thought Y/N had settled in, Lloyd knocked on the door of the main house looking unusually serious. When John, Rip, and Beth sat down with him, Lloyd rubbed a hand over his face and said quietly, “That kid ain’t okay.” The room immediately went still. Lloyd explained that he was usually awake later than everyone else in the bunkhouse and had noticed something. Y/N almost never slept. Night after night she’d lie awake staring at the ceiling for hours. And when she thought everyone else was asleep, she’d curl up facing the wall and cry silently into her pillow. Not loud enough for anyone to hear if they weren’t paying attention. Not dramatic. Just quiet little tears from a kid who’d spent her whole life learning not to bother anybody with her pain. Beth looked ready to kill someone. Rip’s jaw clenched so hard Lloyd thought he might break a tooth. And John just sat there staring at the floor. Because suddenly all the hard work, the stubborn attitude, the smart mouth, the bull riding, the early mornings—it all made sense. She wasn’t strong because life had been easy. She was strong because she’d never had another choice. And from that moment on, the Duttons stopped treating Y/N like a temporary placement and started treating her like what she’d quietly become: their daughter, their kid, their family. The funny thing was Y/N didn’t even notice it happening at first. She didn’t notice John worrying when she was late, or Beth buying things she claimed she’d “accidentally” picked up, or Rip checking every horse she rode before she got on. But everyone else did. Because somewhere along the way, the toughest family in Montana had fallen completely in love with a fourteen-year-old foster girl who arrived with bruises around her neck and a broken heart, and none of them were ever letting her go.
For years, John Dutton had an arrangement with an old friend who worked in social services. Every now and then she’d call about a teenage boy who needed somewhere to land—a kid aging out of the system, a troubled ranch hand in the making, someone who needed structure and hard work. The Yellowstone had become a place for those boys to find a second chance. So when his phone rang one afternoon, John answered expecting the same conversation he’d had dozens of times before.
Frank Castle and Y/N have long since crossed the line between friendship and something neither of them is brave enough to name. She is still his hacker, his partner, and the woman who helped turn his safe house into something resembling a home, but somewhere along the way she also became the person Frank can’t keep his hands off. He’ll come back from a mission, drop his gear by the door and immediately look for her. If she’s sitting at her computer, he’ll walk straight over, lean down behind her chair and murmur, “Miss me, sweetheart?” She’ll glance up at him with a grin. “Were you gone?” Frank gives her that slow, crooked smirk. “Keep talking like that and I’ll give you a reason to miss me.” She loves teasing him because Frank Castle, terrifying Punisher, is surprisingly easy to fluster when it comes to her. She’ll deliberately steal his shirts, curl up on his side of the bed, or sit far too close to him on the couch just to watch him pretend not to notice. Frank always notices. If she sits beside him, his arm eventually ends up around her waist. If she leans against him, he’ll pull her closer. If she gets up, he’ll catch her hand and tug her back down with a quiet, “Where you going?” “Getting coffee.” “Come back.” “You want coffee?” “Didn’t say that.” “Then what do you want?” Frank looks at her for a long moment. “You.” And just like that, Y/N’s teasing smile disappears. Frank is incredibly affectionate with her when they’re alone. He’ll pull her onto his lap while they’re reviewing surveillance footage, rest his chin on her shoulder while she works, brush her hair away from her face when she’s concentrating, and press slow kisses to her forehead, cheek, or temple simply because he can. Sometimes she’ll turn around in his arms and deliberately get closer, smiling when he mutters, “You’re playing with fire.” “Maybe I like fire.” “Yeah?” His hand settles securely at her waist. “You always were trouble.” Their flirting is constant. She calls him handsome just to see his mouth twitch. He calls her sweetheart, pretty girl, trouble and baby in that rough voice that makes her smile every time. When she catches him staring, she’ll ask, “Like what you see?” and Frank won’t even pretend anymore. “Always.” If she kisses his cheek, he’ll turn his head at the last second so her lips brush his instead, then act completely innocent when she gives him an accusing look. “What?” “You did that on purpose.” “Did I?” “Frank.” He’ll grin. “Come here.” And she always does. Their kisses are slow and affectionate rather than rushed, usually ending with Y/N tucked against his chest while Frank strokes his thumb along her cheek. Neither of them ever quite manages to say what they’re feeling. Frank still calls her his friend. Y/N still calls him her “favorite grumpy old man.” But the tension between them is impossible to ignore. After particularly dangerous missions, it becomes even stronger. Frank will come home shaken and exhausted, and Y/N will immediately walk into his arms. He’ll bury his face against her hair and hold her tightly, breathing her in as if making sure she’s real. Sometimes they stay like that for several minutes without speaking. Then she’ll whisper, “You know you’re allowed to admit you were worried about me.” Frank’s arms tighten around her. “Wasn’t worried.” “Liar.” “Fine.” He pulls back and looks down at her. “I was terrified.” She touches his cheek. “I’m here.” “I know.” His voice drops. “That’s all I care about.” And then he’ll kiss her forehead before pulling her back against him. Frank’s protectiveness can become almost ridiculous. If she goes into the field without him, he spends the entire time monitoring her location. If she gets hurt, even slightly, he becomes furious—not at her, but at the idea that someone could have taken her away from him. And Y/N knows exactly how to calm him down. She’ll cup his face, make him look at her and quietly say, “Frank. I’m right here.” His anger disappears almost immediately. He’ll exhale, lean into her touch and murmur, “Yeah, sweetheart. You are.” Then he’ll kiss her palm. To everyone else, Frank Castle remains terrifying. To her, he’s the man who steals blankets, falls asleep with his arm around her, lets her play with his hair, buys her favorite snacks without admitting why, and gets visibly annoyed if she doesn’t give him a goodbye kiss before leaving. If anyone asks about their relationship, Frank’s answer remains stubbornly consistent. “She’s my friend.” Y/N will glance at the arm wrapped firmly around her waist and raise an eyebrow. “Friends do this?” Frank looks down at her, completely unbothered. “Ours do.” She laughs. “You’re ridiculous.” “Yeah.” He pulls her closer and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. “But you like me.” “Unfortunately.” Frank’s mouth curves into a rare smile. “Good.” And then he keeps holding her like letting go isn’t even an option.
3-year-old Y/N doesn’t remember much about the world before it ended. Orphaned and completely alone, she’s spent most of her short life surviving however she can. Stubborn, fearless, and determined to do everything herself, she never expects to find a family again.
Y/N had been an orphan since she was ten, after her parents were killed during a dragon raid on Berk. She stubbornly refused to be taken in by anyone, choosing to live on her own, but Stoick—Hiccup’s father and the chief of Berk—never really allowed her to be completely alone. He always kept an eye on her, making sure she had food, shelter and someone to turn to, while Gobber, Hiccup’s uncle and Berk’s blacksmith, practically treated her like another one of his own children. Y/N and Hiccup, however, had started out as enemies. They were constantly competing, arguing and trying to prove who was better, with Y/N being one of Berk’s strongest young fighters and Hiccup being the stubborn, clever chief’s son who drove her absolutely insane. Everything changed when Hiccup discovered Toothless. Y/N became one of the first people to learn his secret, eventually bonding with her own dragon—a terrifying Skrill, one of the rarest and most dangerous dragons known to Vikings, capable of controlling lightning. After the Red Death, Y/N, Hiccup, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut became Berk’s first generation of young dragon riders, and the six of them have been inseparable ever since. They’re constantly flying together, exploring unknown lands and getting themselves into trouble, with Y/N fitting perfectly into the group as the fearless, sarcastic girl who can hold her own against every single one of them. She’s especially close to Hiccup, though their old rivalry never disappeared. At eighteen, the two are best friends, constantly bickering, racing each other through the skies and arguing over everything while Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut relentlessly tease them about how obvious their feelings are. Hiccup has also changed dramatically since the first film—he’s taller, confident, clever and ridiculously handsome, which Y/N absolutely refuses to admit she notices. But during their explorations beyond Berk, Y/N and Hiccup have a terrible argument before he flies off with Toothless. Y/N immediately regrets what she said, but before she can apologize, Hiccup disappears. When he doesn’t return, Berk fears the worst. Y/N is devastated, blaming herself and convinced that the last thing she ever said to her best friend was something cruel. Snotlout, Fishlegs, Ruffnut and Tuffnut try to keep her together while Stoick and Gobber quietly worry about her, knowing how much Hiccup means to her. Then, days later, Toothless suddenly appears in the sky. Hiccup lands safely on Berk—but he’s not alone. Beside him is a mysterious woman who turns out to be his long-lost mother, Valka. Y/N doesn’t even wait for him to dismount properly before sprinting toward him and throwing her arms around him. She clings to him, crying and apologizing over and over for their argument, while Hiccup holds her tightly and reassures her that he’s alive and he’s okay. The rest of the riders watch from behind, some emotional and some already exchanging knowing looks because they all know exactly how much these two idiots mean to each other. Eventually Hiccup pulls back, gives her that familiar crooked smile and quietly asks, “Miss me?” Y/N immediately punches him in the shoulder through her tears, and the entire group bursts out laughing. For the first time since he disappeared, Y/N finally feels like she can breathe again.
Y/N had been part of the walking dead group for so long that she wasn’t simply one of them anymore—she was family. Everyone loved her, trusted her, and had become fiercely protective of her in their own ways. Rick trusted her beside him when things went bad, Glenn could always make her laugh, Maggie treated her like a sister, Carol adored having her around, and even the people who didn’t say much showed how much she mattered through the little things they did for her. But nobody was closer to Y/N than Daryl Dixon. They had been inseparable for years, and somewhere along the way their friendship had turned into something that looked suspiciously like marriage. Daryl was ridiculously, almost embarrassingly, affectionate with her—at least by Daryl standards. He was always touching her. His arm would automatically wrap around her waist when she stood beside him, he’d pull her between his knees while he sat against a tree, he’d rest his chin on her shoulder while she was doing something, tuck her against his chest while they slept, hold her hand while they walked, brush dirt from her cheek with his thumb, or simply keep a hand resting on her thigh whenever they sat together. If they were sitting around the fire, Y/N was practically guaranteed to end up tucked against his side with his arm around her. He’d pull her closer without even thinking about it, absentmindedly rub her back, play with her hair, or press a sleepy kiss against her forehead before going back to whatever he was doing. He wasn’t like that with anyone else—Y/N was simply the exception to every rule Daryl had. He loved her more deeply than he knew how to explain, and everyone could see it. The biggest problem was whenever Y/N went out alone. Even though she was an incredibly capable survivor and had proven herself countless times, Daryl absolutely hated letting her leave without him. The moment she announced she was going on a supply run, his entire mood changed. He’d immediately ask where she was going, who she’d be with, how long she’d be gone, and whether she really needed to go. He’d try to convince her to let him come, and when she insisted she could handle herself, he’d reluctantly help pack her supplies while muttering under his breath. Then he’d watch her leave, standing there with his arms crossed and an increasingly worried expression, pretending he wasn’t terrified. The longer she was gone, the more restless he became. He’d repeatedly check the road, sharpen his knife for the third time, ask Rick if they’d heard anything, and snap at anyone who suggested he relax. And the second she finally appeared in the distance, Daryl would visibly relax before immediately walking toward her, pulling her into a tight hug and holding her against his chest for several seconds longer than necessary. He’d grumble about her taking too damn long while simultaneously checking her arms, face, and body for injuries, and Y/N would just smile because she knew exactly what he was doing. The whole group knew too. They’d watched Daryl slowly become softer around her, watched him learn to accept affection because she gave it to him, and watched Y/N become the person who could calm him with nothing more than a hand on his arm. They were each other’s safe place in a world where almost nothing was safe anymore. And while neither of them had ever bothered putting an official label on their relationship, everyone else had already decided they were married. They shared everything, slept together, fought like an old couple, worried about each other constantly, and Daryl loved her with a fierceness that made it painfully obvious that, apocalypse or not, Y/N was his person—and he was hers.
Tom Holland and Zendaya are both in their thirties, at the absolute peak of their careers, somehow balancing enormous Hollywood careers with the quiet family life they’ve worked incredibly hard to protect. Their nine-month-old daughter, Y/N, has grown up surrounded by some of the biggest names in the world, but she has absolutely no concept of celebrity. To her, Robert Downey Jr. is simply Uncle Robert, Anne Hathaway is Auntie Anne, and the endless stream of famous actors who wander through her life are just Mum and Dad’s friends. Chris Hemsworth is the funny uncle who makes her giggle until she gets hiccups, Chris Evans is one of her favourite people to cuddle against during movie nights, Florence Pugh constantly brings her tiny gifts from set, Jake Gyllenhaal will happily sit on the floor making ridiculous noises just to get a smile from her, and Hugh Jackman has somehow become one of the people she reaches for whenever he walks into the room. She adores Benedict Cumberbatch because she loves listening to his voice, even if she obviously doesn’t understand a word he says, and Andrew Garfield is one of her favourite people because he’ll happily play peekaboo with her for twenty minutes without getting bored. Y/N has also grown incredibly close to Zendaya’s friends and former costars, with people like Timothée Chalamet, Hunter Schafer and Jacob Batalon becoming familiar faces in her little world. Tom’s Spider-Man family is especially important to her; Jacob is practically another older brother despite her being far too young to understand what that means, while Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield have both accepted that she seems to think they are simply “Uncle Spider-Man.” Because she’s still a baby, Y/N sometimes accompanies Tom and Zendaya to set, usually tucked safely against one of them or with a trusted caregiver nearby. She loves film sets for the simplest reasons—bright lights, interesting noises, people making funny faces at her and, most importantly, being able to sit in Mum or Dad’s arms while everyone fusses over her. Every now and then, if a production is completely appropriate and Tom and Zendaya are comfortable with it, she might make the tiniest background cameo, usually being carried by one of her parents or sitting safely in a scene for a few seconds. But her parents are extremely careful about keeping her childhood private. They don’t publicly show her face, share identifying details or allow photographs of her to circulate, and everyone around them understands that Y/N is not part of the celebrity world simply because her parents are. Tom is particularly intense about protecting her because he knows exactly how ugly fame can become. He’s spent years dealing with paparazzi, intrusive fans and strangers feeling entitled to pieces of his private life, and he absolutely refuses to let his daughter experience that. If cameras appear unexpectedly, his entire demeanour changes immediately; he shields Y/N against his chest, gets her somewhere private and makes sure she’s calm before worrying about anything else. Zendaya is just as protective, making sure Y/N always has secure entrances, private spaces, trusted adults and a familiar environment around her. Their friends follow the same rules. Robert might make everyone laugh by declaring that Y/N has somehow become Hollywood’s tiniest VIP, Anne might arrive with another board book, Chris Evans might spend half an hour making ridiculous faces at her, and Florence might sit on the floor letting Y/N grab at her bracelets, but nobody posts pictures or treats her like a celebrity accessory. Y/N is still a baby, after all. She still has her favourite blanket, still gets sleepy halfway through conversations, still reaches for Mum when she’s tired, and still wants Dad when the room becomes unfamiliar. She’s breastfed by Zendaya, and Tom is completely accustomed to the rhythm of their daughter needing her mum, whether that means quietly leaving an event early, disappearing into a private room during a long day on set, or simply carrying Y/N around while Zendaya settles her. Tom never makes a fuss about it; to him, feeding her, changing her, rocking her to sleep and carrying her around at three in the morning are simply parts of being her dad. Their friends have all gotten used to seeing one of them with a baby permanently attached to their hip. Her childhood is therefore this strange mixture of Hollywood glamour and complete babyish innocence—private nurseries hidden inside film studios, famous actors sitting cross-legged on the floor shaking rattles for her, family dinners where she eventually falls asleep against someone’s shoulder, and Tom quietly carrying his sleepy daughter out of premieres long before anyone else notices they’ve left. To Y/N, none of these people are celebrities. They’re simply her people. And to Tom and Zendaya, that’s exactly how they want it to stay.
Captain Wade Grey announces that the Mid-Wilshire station is receiving an experienced transfer from another LAPD division. Everyone expects a grizzled veteran with fifteen years on the job, especially after Grey casually mentions that the officer has already earned commendations, specialist certifications, and a reputation for handling some of the city’s toughest cases despite being so young. When the doors open and an impossibly young woman walks in carrying a single duffel bag, the bullpen falls completely silent. She looks fresh out of high school. Then Grey introduces her simply as Officer Y/N L/N and reminds everyone that although she’s transferring in with an impressive service record, she’s still a patrol officer like the rest of them—not their superior—and she’ll be working alongside them. The disbelief only grows when they learn she’s nineteen. Almost overnight the whispers begin. She’s too young. Too small. Too pretty. She couldn’t possibly have earned her record. Some officers assume the department fast-tracked her, while suspects openly laugh when she tries to arrest them. They all stop laughing once they see her work. She stays unnervingly calm under pressure, notices details no one else catches, can talk down victims and volatile suspects with equal ease, and has instincts that have saved officers’ lives more than once. She never brags, never corrects people, and never mentions where she transferred from or why someone so highly regarded would willingly leave. The only person who knows the full story is Grey, and he isn’t telling anyone. He simply watches the others slowly figure it out for themselves. Despite everything she’s accomplished, Y/N is painfully independent. She arrives before everyone else, leaves after everyone else, never takes sick days, never complains when she’s hurt, and somehow always manages to dodge every personal question with a joke. She doesn’t celebrate birthdays, never mentions family, and goes home to an apartment so empty it barely looks lived in. Without realizing it, the precinct begins filling those empty spaces. Nolan starts making sure she’s invited to every barbecue, movie night, and holiday because the idea of her spending them alone makes him uneasy. Lucy constantly drags her out for coffee, insists on celebrating her birthday even after Y/N claims she doesn’t have one, and becomes the sister she never had. Bradford pretends he’s only correcting her tactics, but he’s the first person to step between her and anyone who underestimates her, and the first to quietly ask if she’s eaten after a double shift. Angela starts fussing over every scrape, bruise, and skipped meal, calling her “kid” with the same exasperated affection she’d use on a younger sibling. Jackson becomes her safe place, the one person who can make her laugh after awful calls, while Sergeant Grey gradually slips into the role of the father she never had, checking in after difficult shifts, defending her without hesitation, and quietly keeping an eye on her even when she insists she’s fine. Before long, the entire station has developed an unspoken rule: nobody messes with Y/N. They don’t even notice how protective they’ve become until one afternoon a notorious repeat offender is dragged into the holding cells after a violent arrest. The second he sees her across the bullpen, all the colour drains from his face before a cruel smile spreads across it. “Well, if it isn’t little—” he begins, using a nickname that makes Y/N freeze for the briefest fraction of a second. Her expression hardens instantly. “Don’t,” she says quietly, sharply enough that even he stops talking. He only smiles wider, clearly recognising her from somewhere she’d spent years trying to forget. The exchange lasts barely five seconds, but it doesn’t escape the precinct’s notice. Nolan sees the fear she buries almost immediately. Lucy notices her hands shaking once she thinks no one’s looking. Bradford catches the way she positions herself so the man can never get behind her. Grey watches her file with a troubled expression that tells everyone he knows far more than he’s ever admitted. Y/N insists it was nothing and refuses to answer a single question, but for the first time since she arrived, the station realizes the fearless nineteen-year-old they all adore came from somewhere unimaginably dark—and whoever she was before she became Officer Y/N is still looking for her. From that day on, the protectiveness goes from instinct to obsession. Nobody lets her interview dangerous prisoners alone, someone always walks her to her car after late shifts, Nolan starts checking she got home safely without ever admitting it, Lucy keeps spare clothes and snacks in her locker “just in case,” Bradford quietly retrains everyone on backup procedures with Y/N as the example, and Grey makes it clear to the entire station that anyone who comes after one of his officers—especially his kid—will have the whole precinct to answer to.
Y/N has been aboard the Black Pearl since she was little. At nine years old, she’s the only girl among Jack Sparrow’s crew and, as far as everyone aboard is concerned, she’s just as much a pirate as any of them. She climbs the rigging, knows how to handle a pistol and sword, steals food from the galley, swears like a drunken sailor and has absolutely no fear of anyone. More importantly, she’s Jack Sparrow’s kid in everything but blood. Jack refuses to admit how attached he is to her, insisting she’s merely “crew,” but everyone knows better. He lets her steal his hat, carries her when she falls asleep, teaches her pirate tricks, and has a habit of putting an arm around her whenever they’re standing together on deck. Y/N adores him, even when she’s calling him an idiot. Their relationship is chaotic, affectionate and unmistakably father-daughter.
Y/N is twelve years old and somehow already a first-year at Easton, making her one of the youngest students the school has ever had. She’s exceptionally intelligent—smart enough to have skipped ahead academically and earn a scholarship to Easton—but being gifted has never made her life particularly easy. She lives with her very old grandfather, who she loves dearly but has slowly become responsible for, often having to cook, clean, organise things and make sure he’s okay. Some days his memory is worse than others, and his dementia can leave him forgetting things—including, occasionally, who Y/N is—which she quietly brushes off even though it hurts. She’s become so used to being the responsible one that she rarely lets anyone look after her. The crew doesn’t know any of this when Coach Hayden announces that several of his rowers are struggling academically and the principal has arranged for a tutor to come to the boathouse twice a week after training. Most of the boys groan at the idea, assuming they’ll be getting some thirty-year-old teacher with a clipboard. Instead, when the first tutoring session arrives, the boathouse door opens and in walks a tiny twelve-year-old girl with a backpack, a stack of textbooks and absolutely no idea what she’s walked into. The entire crew just stares at her. She’s the youngest student at Easton, and they’re all several years older than her. Teagan is the first to actually speak, asking if she’s lost, only for Y/N to calmly introduce herself and explain that she’s their assigned tutor. Nobody believes it. Ryder laughs. Josh immediately asks how a twelve-year-old is supposed to tutor them. Y/N simply sits down, opens her notebook and asks who wants to go first. Within twenty minutes, she’s proven that she knows more than all of them combined. What starts as an awkward twice-weekly tutoring arrangement slowly becomes something none of them expect. The rowers begin getting used to Y/N sitting in the corner of the boathouse while they train, and Coach Hayden quickly realises that she’s not only brilliant but surprisingly good at keeping the chaotic crew focused. Y/N starts staying a little longer after each session, watching them row and becoming familiar with the different personalities on the boat. Cam, the responsible natural leader, quietly looks out for her; Ryder constantly teases her and tries to make her laugh; Baloo treats her like a little sister almost immediately; Noah notices everything she tries to hide; Josh argues with her about practically everything while secretly becoming protective; and Teagan slowly becomes her closest friend. Eventually they realise how much responsibility Y/N carries at home and how exhausted she can be, especially when she’s spent the night caring for her grandfather. Suddenly, the thirteen-year-old they originally thought was just their ridiculously smart tutor becomes someone they can’t stop worrying about. Coach Hayden starts making sure she’s safe at the boathouse, Cam starts walking her home, Teagan saves her a seat, Baloo always has food for her, Ryder makes it his personal mission to make her laugh, Noah notices when she’s upset before she says anything, and Josh still complains about having a twelve-year-old tutor while secretly becoming one of her biggest protectors. Without ever discussing it, the crew slowly begins treating Y/N like their little sister. And for Y/N, who has spent years being the responsible one and looking after everyone else, the loud, chaotic rowing crew she was originally sent to tutor becomes the first place where she can finally be the kid—and the first place where she genuinely feels like she belongs.
A new construction company is hired by John Dutton to build a massive new barn on the Yellowstone, bringing a crew of rough, unfamiliar builders onto the ranch. Among them is one particularly sketchy-looking man—covered in tattoos, constantly smoking, foul-mouthed, and seemingly uninterested in anything that doesn’t involve getting paid. What catches everyone’s attention, however, is the tiny eleven-month-old girl he brings with him. Y/N is his foster daughter, and it’s painfully obvious from the beginning that he barely takes care of her. She’s still a bottle baby, mostly crawls and pulls herself up on things, and has only recently started taking a few wobbly steps. While he works, he usually leaves her sitting somewhere nearby with little supervision, rarely bothering to check whether she’s hungry, tired, or needs changing. He changes her diaper maybe twice a day, so Y/N will sometimes crawl or wobble her way over to Beth with a sagging diaper and a sore rash, reaching up with both little hands because she’s learned Beth will actually pick her up and make her comfortable. The first time Beth realizes how bad it is, she’s absolutely livid. She takes Y/N straight inside, cleans her up, gets her into a fresh diaper and soft clothes, and gives her a bottle while muttering about how someone could possibly neglect such a tiny baby. Rip notices immediately too. He starts keeping a close eye on her whenever the construction crew is around, carrying her away from dangerous equipment and grumbling whenever she crawls too close to the worksite. He insists she’s “not our problem,” but everyone can see he’s already attached. Y/N quickly becomes especially fond of Rip, toddling after his boots whenever she sees him and lifting her arms for him to pick her up. Beth becomes her safe place, especially when she’s tired or frightened, and before long Beth has a whole drawer of baby supplies despite insisting she doesn’t. John is just as smitten. The first time he sees Y/N asleep against Beth’s shoulder, he immediately softens, and soon the little girl has him wrapped around her finger too. He lets her sit on his lap in his office, talks to her like she understands every word, and starts keeping baby snacks around specifically for her. Kayce and Monica adore her, Lloyd spoils her rotten, and the bunkhouse hands become ridiculously protective whenever she crawls around the ranch. Even the toughest cowboys soften when Y/N reaches for them with her little hands. Before long, the entire Yellowstone has quietly adopted her. Rip and Beth are the ones she gravitates toward most, though—Rip carrying her around tucked against his chest while he works and Beth rocking her with a bottle when she gets sleepy. Nobody even remembers exactly when she stopped being the construction worker’s responsibility and became theirs. All they know is that this little eleven-month-old baby finally has a whole family watching over her, and for the first time in her life, she is surrounded by people who actually notice when she needs something.
Ten months ago, Rip Wheeler and Beth Dutton were told their newborn daughter hadn’t survived. They buried an empty casket, mourned a baby they never got to hold, and somehow learned to live with the unbearable grief of losing the child they’d dreamed about for months. Then, on an ordinary morning, the hospital calls. An internal investigation has uncovered years of corruption inside the maternity ward. Medical records had been forged, birth and death certificates falsified, and several newborns illegally removed from their biological parents. One of those babies was Beth and Rip’s little girl. She never died. She’s alive. Ten months old. The people caring for her weren’t a loving family at all—they were simply an emergency foster placement who had done the bare minimum while waiting for the system to decide what to do with her. They had no interest in keeping her and, once the truth came out, were more than willing to hand her over. By the afternoon, a caseworker pulls through the gates of Yellowstone with a sleepy little girl strapped into a car seat, clutching a well-worn stuffed bunny and looking around with wide, uncertain eyes. The moment Rip lifts her into his arms, every wall he’s spent ten months building around his grief comes crashing down. She doesn’t cry. Instead, she quietly rests her head against his shoulder, her tiny hand gripping the collar of his jacket as if she’d always belonged there. Beth is crying before she even reaches them, gently cupping her daughter’s little face, covering her cheeks, forehead and curls in kisses she’d been waiting ten months to give. Rip refuses to let her go for the rest of the day, carrying her around the ranch tucked safely against his chest while everyone watches in stunned silence. That night, after a warm bath, a bottle, and more cuddles than she has ever known, the little girl falls asleep sprawled across Rip’s chest in front of the fire, one chubby hand wrapped around Beth’s finger while Beth strokes her soft hair over and over, unable to stop looking at her. Neither of them sleeps much. They simply hold their daughter close, overwhelmed by the joy of finally having her home and haunted by the thought that ten months of her life had been stolen from all three of them.
It’s set in the boys of tommen universe after th end of keeping 13, and the lynches are living at the kavenghs house after th fire. A new girl starts at tommen, she’s very tough and stubborn and is from a very rough part of town like where BHS is and on her first day she walks in and looks super out of place in her second hand tommen uniform and her bright blue eyes that look sad. On her first day she walks onto campus and the core 10, Johnny, Shannon, Joey, aoife, gibsie, Claire, Lizzie, hughie, feely all see her looking out of place
Avenger Bucky Barnes has struggled to believe he deserves the title of hero. Missions save the world, but they never quiet the guilt he carries. Wanting to do something that simply brings joy instead of violence, he quietly begins spending every Thursday volunteering in the pediatric wing of a children’s hospital. He never tells the Avengers—not because he’s ashamed, but because he doesn’t want praise. Those Thursdays are just for the kids.
Callista Winters has lived with the Guardians for so long that none of them can remember a time without her. Found abandoned as a toddler on a forgotten moon with nothing but a strange celestial marking glowing on her wrist, she was taken in by the Guardians and raised aboard the Milano. Nobody knows which god abandoned her, only that her powers are far too powerful for an ordinary child. Callie can teleport herself—and sometimes others—across short distances in flashes of silver-blue light, making her invaluable during missions despite her age.
Thousands of years ago, Y/N was a young goddess, spirit, or magical being. During an ancient war, she was placed into an enchanted sleep to save her life.
