#if we're lucky we might see this out by the end of the year

[maenecoon]

just a lil fic i'd worked on in around august/sept... god do i miss writing >~<

[formulamar]

puppy love (but it’s cats!) part 1

max verstappen x vet!yn

fc: girls from pinterest

summary: as a Monaco native, Yn has had her fair share of encounters with F1 drivers. and as a vet, she has even fostered close relationships with some of the driver's pets. what happens when she is introduced to a single Max Verstappen who has two adorable cats?

vetyn

liked by albon_pets and 2,568 others

vetyn we had the cutest visitor today! 🐱💗

210 comments

ynbestfriend: hard at work or hardly working 🧐

vetyn: you’re just jealous i’m not crunching numbers all day 🙄

ynsfriend: can’t decide who’s cuter!

albon_pets: Dr. Yn we thought WE were the CUTEST?

vetyn: i promise YOU ARE! also some of my finest patients 🐾

albono23: now i can’t help but wonder which sibling commented this 😭😭😭

rumorhasitf1

liked by lion33, maxiellvr and 4,672 others

rumorhasitf1: 🚨 RUMOR HAS IT 🚨

Nearly 7 months after his dramatic split with his ex-girlfriend, it appears like Max is on the hunt for love 👀. Sources confirm the World Champion has recently joined the popular celebrity dating app Raya and he has been spotted out on a few dates. Is it possible we might see a new face in the RB garage soon?

531 comments

maxiellvr: lowkey i feel like he's going to end up dating who we least expect

30three: like Kendall Jenner or something 😭

rbgirl: no because when i saw that TikTok with his Raya profile I actually jumped!!!!

dutch1: sooooooooo who's gonna help a girl out and let Max know i'm free any day of the week!

vermax: no fr I wish he would do a Jeremy Fragrence type thing so I could apply to be his girlfriend 😒

verstappen4life: NOT THE JEREMY FRAGRANCE LMAODHJ

maxisfast: I never thought this day would come...@/maxverstappen1 OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU

frmlamax: yeah so, actually, he was on those dates with me sos xx

jimandsas1: hey, girly! so I know we don't know each other but...

maxstap1: dates. DATES. we all see that s at the end of DATE right? oh those lucky girls...

twitter

vetyn’s story

translation: “new client”

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vetyn

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,954 others

vetyn: joyeux anniversaire à moi 🥳 (happy anniversary to me)

it's been 6 AMAZING years of having my dream job. feeling very grateful today. can't wait to keep learning, growing and meeting adorable friends 💘

245 comments

lilymhe: LETS GOOOO YN! WE'RE ALL SUPER PROUD! (but mostly me duh)

vetyn: thank you! you're my fav! (don't tell alex pls)

alex_albon: Oh ok. Cool. We pick favorites now.

char16: now WHAT is going on in the albono house 😭

ynbestfriend: ily girl. can't wait to celebrate you this weekend 😝

liked by vetyn

alexandrasaintmleux: Félicitations, belle ❤️‍🔥

vetyn: merci belle 🥰

albon_pets: Thanks for everything, doc 🤓

liked by vetyn

ynfriend: so proud!

roscoelovescoco: All's My Love's Dr. YN

vetyn: Awwww thank you Roscoe, I miss ya!

russ63: NOW WHY AM I JUST FINDING OUT YN IS ROSCOE'S VET TOO????

ham1lton: omg yes. I believe he was the og f1-related client and then it was the albon pets

ynsister: love you. almost reunited 🇪🇸

liked by vetyn

rumorhasitf1

liked by maxlov3r and 5,728 others

rumorhasitf1: Looks like Max Verstappen had a wild night out celebrating his 6th win of the season in Barcelona 👀

1,034 comments

rbgirl: THAT SHOULD BE ME HOLDING YOUR HAND THAT SHOULD BE ME MAKING YOU LAUGH THAT SHOULD BE ME THIS IS SO SAD THAT SHOULD BE MEEEEEE THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

maxstap1: you're so quick with it LMFAO

maxlovescats: WOAH I JUST WOKE UP?????

butfirstmax: honestly i'm so happy for him go live your life king

maxisfast: is this like his frat boy era

hamstappen: I swear if they're back together and I threw that party for nothing

hamstappen: just kidding hehe

rbgirl: HELPPPPPPPPPP

vermax: rb pr team prob freaking out as we speak

30three: and Max is sleeping soundly

sluttycatdad: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

maxielno1: okay now... doesn't that kinda look like....

justaninchident: that's what I was thinking too

username: wait who

maxielno1: his ex

maxverstappen1

liked by redbullracing, vetyn and 1,309,672 others

maxverstappen1: Barcelona, that was fun! Let's do it again?

23,672 comments

redbullracing: 🦁

rbgirl: oh trust we saw it was fun

maxisfast: 😭

maxielno1: SIMPLY LOVELY 🥰

f1fan: LETS GO CHAMP 🙌

vetyn: mega! 💙💙

maxverstappen1: 😘💙

albono33: YN?

rbgirl: idk who this is but what is happenig here....

30three: so proud of you! 🧡

verstappen4life: yes! let’s do this everytime!

vermax: great job!!!! glad you had fun 😉

martingarrix: Mate how was the club?

maxverstappen1: Pretty good 😂

f1fan: 🔥🔥🔥

somedutchguy: LEGEND

twitter

vetyn's story

to be continued..

⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩

a/n: y’all probably caught on already but this is set during the 2024 season anddddd i just wanted to do one part but tumblr is super annoying with the image limit 🙁 but lmk if you’re interested in a pt. 2! have a great day/night 🫶💐

[sleepys-circus]

I keep seeing critics talking about the fnaf movie being poor but it literally isn't for them. I saw someone else saying the movie's a love letter to the fandom and i WHOLEHARTEDLY agree.

This is how i took it: We, the fans, are Anton Ego, the critic from Ratatouille; the ratatouille was special to us because it was our childhood. I hate ratatouille (the food), but to Anton Ego it was everything. Critics don't like the fnaf movie because they only have the movie as context, but to fans, the fnaf movie is everything and we love it even though it's a little cringey. In fact we love it BECAUSE it's cringey in some cases.

Like no new viewers would get the chica's magic rainbow part, or the MatPat reference, or the whole ongoing bit about Dream Theory sucking, or understand how hype the whole ending part was.

I was lucky to be in a cinema full of fnaf fans, and we were cheering and laughing, and screaming at the references. People got up when the movie ended and SAT BACK DOWN when the living tombstone came on. We shouted the letters of the code, and screamed when Matpat said his line. People clapped and cheered at the end, and people were crying at the parts where they were treating the animatronics with love and affection.

No critics would understand how much fans want to interact with the animatronics in a positive way, or understand how much importance the five seconds of its me on the mirror means in implications of the lore. They wouldn't understand because they haven't been waiting a good part of a decade to see this movie. They came, they saw, and that's it, it was a second of their life, but to us it was everything. This is our ratatouille, made to impress us, not the other people in the restaurant. This was our movie, a love letter to the fandom, not the critics.

I like the changes to the story, because it puts us back at square one. We're fumbling to rearrange lore and timelines. We have to rearrange names, and start with a blank slate, and it feels like a homecoming where to critics, it might feel a little messy.

We've been given a chance to start the journey all over again and i fucking love it so much. Because i'm an adult, and all of a sudden, i'm twelve years old again and we're trying to figure out if phone guy is chica, and struggling our way through whatever the fuck was happening in fnaf 3 to get the good ending. The critics don't get this.

They don't understand how hype the midnight motorists reference is, nor did they care about the references on the chalkboard. Or the code at the end, or the song choices, or the lore implications. They don't understand the sudden lore drop of william afton, or the way he's acting, but we do. They don't understand the vengeful spirit, but we do. Nothing is explained to the audience, because we don't need it to be explained.

This is our ratatouille, and we love the rats in the kitchen.

[bingbongsupremacy]

70 Years Apart

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warning: Y/N use, swearing, rejection, ghosting

Summary: A one-night stand with Bucky before he leaves ends with you pregnant. You tell him what's going on. How will he respond?

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□

I didn’t mean for it to happen.

Not the party. Not the drinks. Not the way his eyes locked on mine through the haze of smoke and laughter like he already knew how I tasted. And definitely not the baby now growing inside me.

But it did.

That night in Brooklyn had been one of the last warm ones before autumn settled in, the kind that wrapped the air in a humid cloak and made every movement feel a little slower, a little heavier. I hadn’t planned on going out, but Clara insisted. She said we deserved one last hurrah before the world got darker and we had to prepare for college.

"He's leaving for war," she’d said. "Half the boys are. Might as well dance while we still can. Maybe we'll get lucky." She smirks while eyeing a group of boys leaning against the wall of the abandoned warehouse. The boys-most I've known growing up, are loudly chatting. Bucky Barnes is amongst them.

With liquid courage running through my veins, I asked him to dance. No fear of rejection. No worry. Just confidence. After all, this would likely be one of the last times I saw him for a while. Why not do what I've always wanted to do.

He said yes. Then we danced.

Bucky Barnes was smooth with a capital S, charming in that roguish, self-assured kind of way that made girls swoon and boys scowl. I’d only spoken to him a handful of times before that night — always in passing, always brief. A polite hello in the hallways, a helpful answer when one of us needed help with homework. A smile. A nod. Once, a quick compliment about my dress that made my cheeks go hot. Despite us going to school together all throughout middle and high school, I never really knew him. He had his friends. I had mine.

But that night? He saw me.

And I let him.

We drank. We laughed. We kissed behind a big tree lit by the moonlight. And before I could think twice, I let myself fall into something warm and reckless. It didn’t last long, just one night. We were never looking for anything serious. He was on his way to the war. I was on my way to school. It was one tangled, breathless memory.

Then he was gone. Not gone-gone, not yet. But gone from me. He’d said goodbye with a kiss to my hand the next morning and a promise that he’d write if I ever wanted to talk again.

I never wrote. I didn't need to.

Not until now.

Not until the little stick I bought from the corner pharmacy turned pink in both windows, and I sat down on my bathroom floor and stared at it in shock. I want to curl up and cry. I want to scream. This can't be happening. Not now, not when I had just began school

I don’t know him. He doesn't know me.

We're two strangers who, for one night, spent some time together.

I kept repeating that like it would change the facts. Like it would make the wave of nausea (part baby, part panic) fade from my throat. But it didn’t.

Now I’m here, at the base where he’s training, a dusty field of tents and shouting voices and trucks that roar like thunder. I clench the strap of my bag tighter against my shoulder and try not to bolt. My hands shake as I get closer.

A soldier points me in the right direction. I catch sight of him near the barracks, shirt half-unbuttoned, dog tags clinking against his chest, laughing at something one of his friends said.

He looks even better than I remember. That makes it worse.

I want to turn around and run to Clara, who's waiting in the car. Maybe come back another day. Or not. But I don't. I force myself to stay. “Bucky,” I call out, barely above a whisper.

My heart pounds against my chest.

He turns.

His eyes find mine in an instant, just like they did that night. His smile falters when he sees the worry behind mine.

“Y/N?” he says, confused but smiling. “Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you again. Not here. Why are you here?” He steps closer.

I try to smile but I can't. My worry is too powerful.

“Can we talk?” I ask.

His brows furrow. “Of course. Yeah. This way.” He nods toward a quieter area behind the mess hall. I follow, heart pounding, breath shallow.

He leans against a low wall and crosses his arms. He steadily holds my gaze. “You alright?”

“I… not really.” My voice is so small. I hate it. I don't want to tell him, but I have to. He deserves to know. So I rip the band-aid off. “I’m pregnant, Bucky.”

His face doesn’t change at first. He blinks once. Twice. Like the words haven’t quite landed.

Then they do.

“You’re...? And I’m...?” His voice cracks in a way that makes my stomach twist. “You’re sure it’s mine?” His eyes scan over my body, like he's looking for some sort of proof. His eyes land on my stomach which has not started showing yet.

I nod. “Yeah. It’s yours. I haven't been with anyone since...” That night.

He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. Damn.” I can see the thoughts racing through his head.

I look away and wait for it. The panic. The backpedaling. The "sorry, but I can't, you understand, right?" But it doesn’t come.

He looks back at me with something soft in his eyes. “Are you okay? How… how far along?”

“Almost two months.” I look back at him, surprised by his response.

“And you just found out?” His eyes flicker back to my stomach.

“I’ve known for a couple weeks,” I admit. “I just didn’t know how to tell you. Or if I should tell you. I mean, we don’t really know each other. And you’re about to go to war. This would be so much to add on to your plate. I don’t even know if—if you want anything to do with this.” I gently place a hand on my stomach.

Silence. A breeze kicks up, scattering dust across the ground between us.

“I want everything to do with it,” he says finally. His voice is low, steady. “With you. With the baby. I know we didn’t plan it — hell, we barely knew what we were doing, but I’m not the kind of guy who runs. I promise you that. I helped make it, and I'm going to help raise it.”

I look down. My hands are trembling. It's a relief. I should feel better. But I'm still scared.

He takes a step closer, reaching gently for one of them. “I’m scared, too,” he says. “I don’t know what the hell’s going to happen out there. But I do know this, I’m coming back. And when I do, I’m going to take care of you both.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not,” he says. His grip tightens, reassuring. “I’m saying it because it’s true. I’ve seen what war does. I know I might not get another shot at a real life if I don’t hold onto this. Hold onto you.”

“Bucky—” My throat catches on his name.

“I don’t know if I’ll be a good father,” he continues, “but I want to be. And if you’ll let me… I want to try.”

My heart shatters and knits itself back together in a single breath.

“I’d like that,” I whisper. This is going better than I thought.

He smiles, gentle and wide, and for a moment, it feels like maybe the world isn’t falling apart. Like maybe we’re allowed this — just this — before the storm comes.

He leans down, presses his forehead to mine.

“I’m coming back to you,” he murmurs. “No matter what. I promise.”

And I believe him.

God help me, I do.

----

When Bucky leaves we write to each other, almost every day. I give him updates and exciting news and try to keep his hopes up. He sends me beautiful poems and hopes for the future. Through these letters I get to know him, as he does me.

I learn his favorite color and food. What he likes to do in his spare time. He tells me about his best friend, Steve and his family.

I tell him about me.

Suddenly our relationship begins to change. We're not just some people brought together by a surprise baby. We're friends. We're close.

I look forward to reading his letters-to getting to know him more. My anxiety turns to excitement. My happiness turns to love. I began to fall in love with him, and I think he was falling for me too.

Then I got the letter.

Letter from Bucky Barnes

Postmarked: December 13, 1943

My dearest Y/N, I think about you every single day. That night in Brooklyn feels like a dream now, like something too warm and sweet to have been real, like a movie reel I can’t stop replaying in my head. You in that dress, laughing into your glass, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight. I remember every inch of you. And now I think of you with a hand on your stomach, feeling the tiniest flutter of the life we made together. I won’t pretend I’m not scared. Some days out here, the noise is so loud I can’t think straight. But your name grounds me. I whisper it under my breath when the bombs fall. I think of our child — our baby — and I remember why I need to come home. Why I fight. I want to be there when they take their first step. I want to teach them how to throw a baseball, how to tie their shoes. I want hear them learn to talk and laugh. If it’s a girl, I hope she has your eyes. If it’s a boy, I hope he laughs like you do, like sunshine cracking through clouds. I don’t know when I’ll be able to write again. I’m heading somewhere dangerous, can’t say where. But please believe me when I say I’m fighting to come back to you. Every bullet I dodge, every breath I take out here, it’s for you. For the baby. You've given me something to look forward to, to fight for. And I will come home. I love you, Y/N. Yours always, Bucky

Three Weeks Later

Brooklyn, January 1944

The letter is folded neatly, worn at the creases from how many times I’ve read it. Sometimes I hold it against my chest, like I can press his words into my skin and make them stay.

Today I have it clutched in my hand as I waddle, yes, waddle, down the steps of my apartment, the cold air biting through my coat. I’m seven months now. The baby kicks stronger every day. It’s the only thing that reminds me that Bucky was real.

Clara is already standing at the end of the sidewalk, scarf wrapped tight, her eyes glassy. She doesn’t speak.

That’s when I know.

I stop walking. My breath clouds the air in front of me, and suddenly it feels too thick to breathe.

“Clara?” My voice is already shaking.

She walks up, slow and quiet. Reaches out like she’s scared to touch me.

“They came to my house,” she whispers. “Figured you wouldn’t want to be alone.” Her eyes confirm my fears. Sadness. Worry. Pity.

I blink. The world tilts. “No.”

“Y/N…”

“No, no. He said he’d come back.” My chest tightens. The baby kicks hard, as if they can feel the panic rising in me. “He promised, Clara. He promised me.”

“They said it was during a mission. He fell from a train — they couldn’t find a body.”

My heart pounds.

“No body?” My voice latches onto the words like a lifeline. “Then he’s not gone. He’s not. Maybe he’s hurt. Maybe he's lost and they just need to find him! Maybe—”

“Sweetheart—” Clara's voice cracks, emotion coming through.

“Don’t call me that,” I snap, voice sharp and foreign. “Don’t—don’t act like it’s over. He wouldn’t leave me like this. He promised, Clara. He promised me. He promised our baby.”

I press both hands to my belly, trying to ground myself in something real. But the world is cracking open around me. The sidewalk. The snow. The windows lined with frost. It’s all wrong. None of this is supposed to happen. He wrote me. He told me he loved me. He wanted this.

I sink to the steps, knees giving out. This isn't true. She's lying. She has to be. Bucky's going to be home soon. I know it. He has to be.

The letter slips from my fingers into the snow. I snatch it back, heart thudding, and cradle it like a lifeline.

“I’ll keep reading it,” I whisper. “Every day. Until he comes back.”

Clara kneels beside me, arms around my shaking shoulders, but I don’t cry. Not yet.

If I cry, it means I believe he’s really gone. And I’m not ready for that. I don't know if I'll ever be.

Not when I can still feel him in every heartbeat. Not when his baby is still kicking inside me. Not when his last words were a promise.

“I’m coming back to you.”

----

I should have listened to my instincts the night I woke to the sound of the window creaking open.

Brooklyn was never quiet, not truly. Someone's always out and about. But that night was too quiet. I remember the way my breath fogged in the cold winter air as I sat up, rubbing my swollen belly, half asleep.

The next thing I remember is the flash of metal. A deep rumbling voice.

A sharp sting to my neck.

The scream that never made it out of my throat.

My eyes shutting on the image of someone standing next to me.

When I woke again, it was under flickering fluorescent lights. My wrists were bound, cold steel cutting into my skin. There were voices, clipped, foreign. German. One of them said the word Versuchsperson.

Test subject.

I knew that word. My stomach lurched, and not from the baby shifting inside me. From fear.

Where am I?

They didn’t care that I was pregnant. They cared only about what my body could endure.

“If she survives, we can push the limits of cryostasis on vulnerable subjects,” one of the scientists murmured.

“She is carrying Barnes’ child,” another replied, clinical. “Genetic value. Possibly enhanced.”

“Not likely. She looks too far along to have conceived after the enhancement. It's most likely from before. ”

Enhanced? Bucky? What is going on?

No. No, no.

I thrashed as they wheeled me into the freezing chamber — the same kind I’d only ever heard whispers of. It's terrifying.

“Please,” I sobbed. “Please don’t do this. I’m pregnant. Please.” My shoulders shook from fear.

No one looked at me. No one stopped.

The fluid began rising. Cold seeped into my skin like needles.

“I have a baby,” I whispered, teeth chattering, as my body began to shut down. “Please-” I beg.

Everything went black.

-----

I woke to alarms and shouting.

My vision was blurry as I tried to adjust to what's going on.

Not the Hydra voices I’d heard when I went under. No, this time, it was English. American. Familiar.

Memories hit me like a freight train, shocking me as they all rushed back at once.

They cracked the glass, pried me out. My legs didn’t work. My body was limp, useless. But I was alive.

And the baby—

A stab of pain hit me before I could think. Pain worse than anything I could've imagined. My scream tore through the sterile air, and someone was shouting, “She’s in labor!”

I didn’t know what year it was. I didn’t know who these people were. But I knew I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

Any baby was on the way.

-----

I named him James.

Not for Bucky- not just for Bucky, but for the piece of him that lived inside our child. His eyes are exactly the same. The same shape, the same stormy color. Sometimes, when he laughs, my heart cracks open all over again.

We live in a small apartment SHIELD set up for us. Stark helped with the furniture, though I didn’t ask him to. Said it was the least he could do after “pulling an actual time traveler out of a Hydra tomb.”

The world is… impossible.

There are tiny computers in everyone’s pockets. Cars that drive themselves. Food that comes in boxes with instructions printed on plastic. I still flinch when doors open automatically. Things are very different.

SHIELD checks on us regularly. Mostly research. Blood draws, vitals, endless psychological evaluations. They’re studying me like I’m a relic. And maybe I am.

I try to keep James out of it, but they’re fascinated by him too. “Genetic goldmine,” I once overheard. I don’t let them take him anywhere without me.

He’s my whole world now.

I tell him stories about the 1940s. About jazz clubs and movie theaters with curtains. About his father, though I never have the words right.

How do you explain a love that bloomed and died in less than a week but left a scar that stretched across time?

----

I don’t expect to see him. Not today.

It’s just a standard check-up at the SHIELD facility — a few blood samples, a scan or two, a quiet nod from Dr. Cho saying I’m still stable, still alive, still miraculously whole. I’ve done this dance for years now, adjusting to a time seventy years ahead of the world I knew. Raising my son in a place that barely feels real, in a body that should’ve crumbled long ago.

James skips beside me down the hallway, holding my hand with sticky fingers, clutching his toy dinosaur in the other.

“Do you think Mr. Wilson will be there?” he asks, hopping every third step.

“If he is, no jumping on his wings this time, please.”

He giggles. “But I was gonna fly!”

I smile, brushing a hand through his hair. He’s grown so fast — not just taller, but louder, bolder, full of that same spark I used to see in the boy who once kissed me behind the big oak tree and whispered that everything would be okay.

My chest aches every time I think about it.

Bucky knew. He knew I was pregnant before he shipped out. I told him just a few days before his unit left. We cried, clung to each other, and made promises we were too young to fully understand. And then the letters stopped. The news came. Clara told me what she learned.

Sergeant James Barnes: Killed In Action.

I read the letter so many times that I have it memorized. I think about it often.

I never stopped loving him. Not for a moment.

But I learned to grieve him. To build something out of the pieces he left behind. I had to. My son needed me to.

And then today — today, the world tilts again.

We turn the corner into the medical wing, and I feel it before I see it, that sudden pull in my chest. A weight, a breath caught sideways in my ribs.

I freeze.

James tugs on my arm. “Mama?”

He follows my gaze, then goes quiet.

At the end of the hallway stands a man I once thought I’d never see again. Older. Sharper. His hair pulled back, jaw clenched, eyes scanning the room like he’s ready for a fight.

He's similar, but at the same time, so different. His muscles are much larger than I remember. His arm, once flesh, now glimmers under the building lights.

Then he sees us.

And everything stops.

“Y/N?”

The voice is different, rougher, like gravel, but it shakes something loose in my soul.

My lips tremble. “Bucky?”

He stares, stunned. Like I’ve just stepped out of one of his dreams -or nightmares. His eyes shift, flickering to the child standing at my side.

I see the moment he realizes. His eyes widen in disbelief. His lips part, like he wants to say something but can't quite find the words.

His knees nearly give out.

James blinks up at him, head tilting in that curious, unfiltered way only a child can manage. “Mama, who’s that?”

My throat closes.

I kneel beside him, one hand on his back, the other over my heart.

“That’s your dad, sweetheart.”

Bucky makes a sound, something like a gasp, something broken.

“I knew,” he whispers. “I never forgot. You told me, and I—they told me you were taken, gone. Most likely dead.. That the baby was likely-”

“I thought you were dead,” I say, standing slowly, my hand reaching out. “They told me you were gone.”

“I was.” He steps closer. “They took me, Y/N. I didn’t even remember my own name for decades. But you-our baby...” His voice breaks. “You were real. The only thing that felt real.”

Tears blur my vision. “I kept him safe. I promised you I would.”

“I promised I’d come back,” he whispers, voice thick. “I didn’t know it would take seventy years.”

James moves closer, eyes wide and searching. “You wrote letters to Mommy,” he says solemnly, like it’s the most important fact in the world. He remembers my stories.

Bucky kneels in front of him, tentative. “Yeah, buddy. I did.”

James holds out his hand.

Bucky stares at it like it’s holy, then gently wraps his fingers around it, so tender, so careful.

I watch them-my son and the man I thought I’d lost forever, and something inside me begins to stitch itself back together.

“I didn’t expect this,” Bucky murmurs, looking up at me with tear-glassed eyes. “But I want it. All of it. If you’ll let me.”

“I already have,” I whisper. “I told you before, Bucky. I want you in our lives.”

And for the first time in seventy years, we’re not just surviving.

We’re starting over.

Together.

Our little family

[1982grapejuiceblues]

Change Of Plans

Official Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Stranger Lanes Part 1

Summary: Y/N just got dumped. By text. Her boyfriend left her for Claire—her coworker, her friend, and the girl who helped plan their summer group trip. Now Claire and Ben are sharing a car to the lake house. Y/N? She’s stuck riding with Harry—Claire’s freshly dumped, emotionally unavailable ex. They’ve barely spoken. They don’t even like each other. And they’re about to spend twelve hours trapped in a car together. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. But then again… nothing ever does.

A/N: I just came up with this (in my opinion) very cute story idea because its finally SPRING (although it feels so much more like summer) and I was really feeling those end of school, summer vibes. So here is my second story, Stranger Lanes! I'll be alternating between posting for this story and The Wrong Pitch (my other series) each day. I hope you guys love teacher!Harry because thats who we're getting today. He's grumpy, quiet, broody, and everything we could ever dream of. Hope you guys love him as much as I do!

Warnings: Off-page infidelity / betrayal (Y/N’s partner cheats with a friend) | Breakup fallout and emotional processing | Anxiety, emotional withdrawal, and dissociation | References to emotional repression (in others and self) | Passive-aggressive group dynamics | Alcohol use (coping, casual context) | One (1) sarcastic mention of wanting to “die in Indiana” | Dry humor layered over grief

Word Count: 1.7K

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

It started with a text.

Not a fight.

Not a conversation.

Not even a slowly decaying vibe.

Just a text. Dry. Colorless. Utterly insufficient.

Hey. I think it’s only fair I’m honest with you. Claire and I are seeing each other. We didn’t plan it.

Y/N read it once. Then again. Then a third time, more slowly—like it might morph into something less ridiculous if she squinted hard enough.

It didn’t.

She stood in the middle of her kitchen, one hand gripping the fridge door like it was holding her upright. The glow of the fridge light spilled across her feet and the tile in soft gold, humming like it was trying to fill the silence. It didn’t.

She hadn’t even taken her shoes off yet.

Ben.

Ben had sent that.

Ben, her boyfriend of three years.

Ben, who alphabetized their spice rack.

Ben, who had built her a bookshelf for her birthday and painted it teal because it “felt like a happy color.”

Ben, who had Claire saved in his phone as “Claire 🌱” because, apparently, she was “good with plants.”

Y/N closed the fridge door slowly and let her phone slide facedown onto the counter.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t throw anything.

She didn’t cry. That would’ve made sense.

Instead, she opened the freezer, took out the pint of overpriced salted caramel gelato she’d been saving for “a bad day,” and stared at it like it had betrayed her too.

Claire.

She leaned against the counter. Crossed her arms. Uncrossed them.

Claire.

As in Harry’s girlfriend Claire.

As in district golden girl, perennial staff lounge contributor, fake-humble about her sourdough starter Claire.

Claire who had cried on Y/N’s shoulder at the end-of-year cookout two weeks ago because Harry was “distant” and “always reading alone when she just wanted to connect.”

Claire who had helped plan the lake trip. Who made the group spreadsheets. Who told Y/N—literally, word for word—that she “was lucky to have someone like Ben. He’s so emotionally available.”

Y/N laughed. Once. Short and dry, like a cough in a church pew.

She put the gelato back in the freezer.

-

She didn’t text back. She didn’t call.

She sat on the edge of her bed, in the tank top she’d taught summer school in, and stared at her laundry pile like it might have answers.

Her phone buzzed again.

I’m sorry

That was it. No period. No elaboration. Just two words that sounded more like a receipt than a confession.

She powered her phone off. Not because she was angry. But because she couldn’t bear to watch the read receipts play chicken with her rage.

-

The next morning, she packed a bag.

Not dramatically. Not even thoughtfully. She just started folding things—loose sleep shorts, that one bra that still held its shape, the tank top with the bleach stain she usually saved for movie nights—and shoved them into a weekender tote like she was running from a hurricane. Which, in a way, she was.

She left Ben’s keys on the counter. Took her spare set. Didn’t lock the door behind her.

-

Her sister opened the door in a charcoal gray face mask and one of those oversized sweatshirts that read PROPERTY OF NO ONE across the chest.

“Oh,” she said, blinking. “It happened?”

Y/N nodded.

“Claire?” Her sister had heard about Claire. Or more specifically, “Claire 🌱”.

Y/N nodded again.

Her sister stepped aside like a bouncer. “Come in. Do you want wine or revenge?”

Y/N dropped her bag in the hallway. “What kind of wine?”

-

She stayed for three nights. Then five. Then seven.

She didn’t go back to their apartment—not once. Ben texted a few times, but the messages were all logistical. Do you want the basil plant? Are the insurance papers in the drawer? Should I grab your blender too?

She didn’t answer. He Venmo’d her $300 without a note. She transferred it to savings and blocked his number.

Her sister didn’t ask questions. She made breakfast-for-dinner three times and gave her the better half of the couch, and only once did she gently ask if Y/N wanted to talk about it.

“I think I will,” Y/N said. “Later.”

It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t soon.

-

She spent most of her days scrolling—TikTok, Pinterest, Zillow like she could manifest a life somewhere coastal. She read three chapters of a novel before putting it down and flipping to something trashier. She started a letter to Ben and then deleted it. She started a letter to Claire and imagined reading it aloud into a hairbrush like she was Nikki Minaj mic’d at the VMAs.

None of it helped. But it filled the time.

-

The summer trip loomed.

The group chat still pinged daily—mostly Claire, ironically. She sent weather updates and playlists and matching merch links (“Isn’t this cute for a group pic??”) like she hadn’t detonated the entire social dynamic of the group with her soft little garden-gloved hands.

Y/N didn’t mute the chat. She just watched.

Every so often, someone—usually Ali—would DM her privately and say something like “you’re still coming, right?” or “we can totally make it chill, like totally separate spaces, no drama.”

She didn’t respond. Not because she was ghosting. Just because there wasn’t an answer that didn’t sound like she was lying to herself.

-

On day nine, her sister brought in the mail and tossed a catalog onto the couch.

It landed next to Y/N with a heavy thwap. A furniture store ad. The front read:

CHANGE STARTS HERE.

Y/N stared at it for a full minute.

Then she said, “Ali’s gonna call, isn’t she?”

-

It happened at 9:17 p.m., which already felt like a hostile time for unsolicited optimism.

Y/N was on the couch again, wearing the same sweatshirt she’d claimed from her sister’s closet five days ago and scrolling through Instagram like she was watching someone else’s life. Weddings. Beach trips. Dogs on paddle boards.

Her legs were half-asleep under a blanket she didn’t remember pulling over herself. Her phone was warm in her palm. She had just watched an entire video of someone organizing a pantry with acrylic bins and was about to rewatch it when her screen lit up with a name she both loved and feared:

Ali 🌙

Y/N stared at it.

Her thumb hovered.

Then she accepted the call and held the phone to her ear with the energy of someone walking into a trap.

“Please tell me you’re not calling to ask if I’ve forgiven them.”

“No,” Ali said immediately. “God, no. I’m not insane.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Then what.”

“I have an idea.”

“Ali.”

“A solution.”

“Ali.”

“You have to hear it.”

“I truly do not.”

“You do,” she insisted. “Because it’s genius. It’s fate. It’s actually so perfect, I think the universe is throwing you a bone.”

“Is it a bone or is it a grenade?”

“Okay, so—”

Y/N groaned and dropped her head back against the couch. “Start over. From the top. Slowly.”

Ali exhaled dramatically. “Fine. You know how you were supposed to drive up to the lake house with Ben.”

Y/N stayed silent.

“And now you are, obviously, not doing that because Ben is… dead to us.”

Still silent.

“Well, Harry was supposed to drive up with Claire.”

Ah. There it was.

“And now he’s not. Because Claire is, you know, Ben’s rebound wife.”

“I’m going to vomit,” Y/N muttered.

Ali ignored her. “So now Harry has a car. You need a ride. He needs a co-pilot. You don’t want to drive alone. See where I’m going with this?”

Y/N was silent for a long time.

Then: “I’ve spoken to him twice.”

“Three times.”

“Ali.”

“I think he said you had a nice voice once.”

“He asked if I had a pen.”

Ali was undeterred. “He’s quiet. But he’s not mean. And he said he’s still going.”

“You already asked him?”

“Maybe.”

“Ali.”

“I mean. Yes.”

“Oh my god.”

“I swear he didn’t even sound annoyed! He was just like, ‘sure, whatever.’ That’s practically a love letter from Harry.”

Y/N groaned again and pulled the blanket over her face.

“Just—think about it,” Ali added. “It’s a long drive. You can listen to audiobooks. Or just put in your headphones and ignore him. It doesn’t have to be bonding. It can be… logistical.”

“Like co-parenting a twelve-hour road trip.”

“Exactly.”

Y/N peeked out from under the blanket. “He said yes?”

“Yes. Kind of. I think. I texted and he replied ‘fine.’”

“Wow. I feel so cherished.”

Ali snorted. “He’s just… not a words guy.”

“What is he then?”

“A scowl guy. A hoodie guy. A tragic poetry guy.”

“Oh god.”

“You’re gonna have a great time.”

“I’m going to die in Indiana.”

Ali paused. “Okay but if you do, at least make it look like an accident. Don’t ruin the vibe of the trip.”

-

The worst part wasn’t that she was considering it. The worst part was that it made sense.

She didn’t want to rent a car. She didn’t want to fly and pretend she wasn’t terrified of turbulence. She didn’t want to miss the trip entirely, because Claire and Ben didn’t get to take that from her too.

And Harry, despite being barely more than a moody silhouette in the hallway during staff meetings, wasn’t a serial killer. As far as she knew.

She pulled up his contact in her phone. She’d never texted him before. His name was just Harry Styles, no emoji, no notes. A blank profile image. He was, in every way, a placeholder.

She stared at the screen for a long moment.

Then typed:

Ali says you’re okay with driving together. Is that real or was she hallucinating from heat exhaustion?

The dots appeared almost immediately.

It’s real.

Y/N squinted at the screen.

I can pick you up Saturday at 7?

Seven. In the morning. On a Saturday. Before she had coffee.

Was he trying to make her hate him?

Seven AM???

It’s a twelve-hour drive.

I’m aware of the concept of distance, Harry.

Good. I’ll bring coffee.

She paused.

That was… civil. Almost human.

What kind of coffee?

Black.

Are you trying to make this as miserable as possible?

Do you take yours with glitter and oat milk?

Y/N smirked.

I take it with hope and joy, actually.

Cool. I’ll bring despair and an aux cord.

She let out a sound that surprised her—a laugh, small and sharp, like she hadn’t remembered what it felt like to make one.

Then she replied:

Fine. But no true crime podcasts unless I pick them.

Deal.

[hearts-are-connected]

Dang it, I love this ship and I love the enemies to lovers trope. I get that a lot of people see them as a surrogate father and daughter relationship, but it feels like a been there/done that kinda thing.

As much as I love that trope, I'm also a little tired of it. There's only so much Last of Us style found family I take after seeing it for so many years.

The thing I love about VaultGhoul or Ghoulcy is the idea of Lucy breaking down of Cooper's walls while he helps build hers up.

Is he incredibly cruel to her and those around him in the first season? Yes, extremely

Does he need to chill out and find some of his humanity that's been buried under 200+ years of wasteland survival and bitterness? Yes

Who can bring that needed direction to his life while learning the ways of the new world she finds herself in? Lucy MacLean

I know that the canon ship of the show at this moment is Lucy and Maximus, and as much as I love him, I find the pairing obvious and kind of boring from a story telling perspective. I loved it on my first viewing, but upon re-watching the series, I wasn't as behind it as before. I see their relationship, kiss and all, as a kind of first fling for the both of them.

While it doesn't diminish the care they show one another, there's not a lot behind them as a couple. Now I know that some people might turn around to say how she and Cooper spent less time together than her and Max, but I guess the thing I look forward to is seeing what their relationship brings with the second season.

I feel like Max and Lucy will have a great friendship and I'm interested to see where the Brotherhood fits into their dynamic as well.

With Cooper though, I find his story so tragic, as it's supposed to be. He's your standard hardened survivor who only looks out for himself that's now stuck with the happy-go-lucky main character, however, she's not that character anymore by the end. She's still going to be the Lucy we love, but she's changed by the end. While not losing her compassion and some optimism, I think Cooper is going to bring out a harsher side to her as we saw when she bit off his finger.

I want to see her building up her walls and learning when to let them down. How to truly survive while still bringing her own energy to the wasteland and people around her. I want to see Cooper regaining some lost humanity while learning to truly care for another person again. To see the two of them as eventual equals in one another's eyes as they continue on their journey as reluctant allies.

I also want to say that I'm personally kind of tired of the 'age gap' argument. We have stories of teenagers falling in love with hundred year old vampires. So can we just drop the age gap thing?

As long as they're both consenting adults who understand what they're getting themselves into, who cares about an age gap.

Does it truly matter in the scheme of things when we're talking about a world with cryo-stasis and super mutants?

I personally don't think so.

I don't know if anyone will even bother reading this entire thing, and I know I went on a little long, but I wanted to write down my thoughts on the whole shipping situation with the Fallout TV show fandom at this moment.

I'm a VaultGhoul shipper and I can't wait to see where the second season takes our main trio of characters.

[glassrowboat]

Letters For You

Valentine’s Day letters from Anaxa, Aventurine, Gallagher, Jing Yuan, Phainon, Ratio, Reca, Sampo, Sunday

Wrote these for my online friends, so I hope you all have a lovely Valentine’s. Love you all, xoxo

Anaxa

My fellow scholar,

I won't lie and pretend as if I wouldn't rather be spending my time doing something actually worthwhile like studying, but whenever I finally bring myself to put pen to paper in my hectic schedule I find myself unable to use my quill for its intended purpose. I bought it for note taking and truly wished to use it for that purpose, only for me to find myself unable to focus on the words before me as I am stuck thinking of you.

You see, these were originally meant to be notes, so excuse the scribbling at the top. It's all mindless drivel and half-baked theories I'm certain you're already planning to jump at. Your curious mind never rests, just like mine. Which is why I'm so loath to admit that even us scholars need a break.

With that in mind, I ask that you find me at our usual spot to enjoy the current festivities. I'm sure once we're done, it will leave us both refreshed and ready to return to work.

In best regards,

Anaxagoras

Aventurine

Dearest friend,

I already know what you're going to say about the gifts I have left for you. “It's too much or you should save your money on something else, Aven.” To the point I can almost hear the words ringing in my ear in that scolding tone of yours. It's just as bad as the higher ups scolding me for breaking the cornerstone and yet I can't help but want to spoil you.

But I'll be nice. Just this once.

Instead of dinner at another fancy restaurant you'll roll your eyes at, let's just get takeout from your favorite place and we can play dress up with all the clothes I got us. And yes some are for me, too. I'm sure if you dig around a bit you'll find a particular lacy item you and I can both agree has its merits.

Until tonight,

Aventurine

P.S. No overtime. I promise.

Gallagher

Babe,

I'm sure you've already figured out the bag of candy is for you. I even wrapped it up with a neat bow and everything for ya, so I hope you like it. If you want, we can even try making a drink out of a few of them like we did with the cotton candy vodka. Remember that? It was interesting, that's for sure.

We can even have what's left after dinner tonight. I'm cooking. Just for you, too. I was thinking of Clockie Pizza with all those toppings you like, and we could have it at the lounge? I'm sure Dreamjolt Hostelry will have open seats even on Valentine’s Day, knowing how dead the place usually is. I'll even dress up if you want me to. Though it might just be best to put myself in your or Sioban care to choose an outfit. Either way, I'm trusting you here, so don't let me down.

Your man,

Gallagher

Jing Yuan

My darling,

It's a beautiful day out, don't you think? The sky is clear and bright blue, the wind is just right, and the sun as artificial as it might be is perfect for dozing under its shining rays. I even found a record to play a song I remember from days long past. The only thing missing on this perfect day is you. And my work to be done, too.

I take it you're wrapped in endless stacks of paperwork just as I am, aren't you? Even after all the time, they managed to keep you this week. I'm merely lucky I'll have you all to myself once the day ends. The weekend will be ours to enjoy the garden, eat good food, play with our adorable little lion, and each other.

While we may not get Valentine’s Day together between your work and mine, I am happy to make sure we still get to enjoy being together. Besides, choosing only one day to love you when I would rather do so every day for every year you're willing to share with me is far more appealing than showing you appreciation only on special occasions.

Yours,

Jing Yuan

Phainon

My favorite shopkeeper,

Time really does flash by in an instant, huh? It feels like only yesterday that I came to The Holy City with the weight of the prophecy, both bearing a heavy weight on and lifting my shoulders all at once. Back then, I was ready to face the world as a Chrysos Heir alongside the others of golden blood without daring to think anything could stop me. I was going to be the one who takes Nikador's Coreflame, and I'll be the demigod of Strife. It will be a title I wear with honor.

And that is still my intention, mind you, but I've found something else that fills me with just as much conviction as being a hero to the masses. Do I even have to say what it is? It's you.

Ever since we first ran into each other at your shop and you were giving me a side eye (yes, I saw that) at all the questions I was asking about your collection of antiques I knew I would be willing to take a moment to step away from the duty I have sworn to uphold to simply be with you.

So I guess what I'm asking is: will you be my valentine?

Your hero,

Phainon

Ratio

My dear,

Today has already been full of one headache after the next from students deeming fit to load my desk with gifts to dealing with Aventurine texting me about how many roses is “too much.” At this point, all I want to do is go home and fall into your embrace.

Still, I have tests to grade. And from what I've seen of them, it's looking like some of them have finally learned how to pick up a thing or two after I started to use the method you suggested last time. As loath as I am to admit, I never would have thought to have my student role play as great mathematicians from the past to keep them engaged. It worked.

You truly astound me. Always finding new ways to show that creative thinking plays a part in being knowledgeable as well. You put the term genius to shame, my dear.

Sincerely,

Veritas Ratio

Reca

My love interest,

I have met countless actresses and actors who have been praised as if they were Aeons themselves. Looks, skills, the way the camera is naturally drawn to them, why you could name it all! Yet they all pale in comparison to you, my snookums.

No shot is truly complete without your radiance, without your smile, or without just the thought of you lingering in the back of my mind and changing how I see each scene laid out before me. You have changed how I view romance, entirely flipping the genre on its head for me to make something entirely new and unique. You inspired me in a way I never would have thought possible despite all the stories of star-crossed lovers I know. You have simply made me, for lack of a better word, more.

The only thing I could possibly regret about you is not meeting you sooner.

So allow me to make up for all the time we have had apart, my honey bee, by coming to a play with me as my valentine.

Your charming director,

Reca

P.S. I have entrusted the Assistant Director to be in your care today while I am away. She shall take care of you in my stead while I am away, my valentine.

Sampo

Boss,

It's me, your good old buddy, your pal, your bestest guy, Sampo! Now, now, before you go and throw this letter in the trash or worse yet, set my poor heartfelt words on fire, hear me out. I only have the purest intentions for you today, and that is on my honest word as a businessman.

It is Valentine’s Day, after all, and I can't have such a profitable holiday be soured for my favorite customer. That would just hurt my coin purse. So to ensure that doesn't come to pass, I took it upon myself to give you a gift as a show of gratitude for all you've done for me these past few years.

I'm sure you've noticed them by now.

Now, I hope you like the roses I left for you. They have a bit of an extra boom to them if you know what I mean. Just not the bomb kind. Though you do always manage to blow my heart away so who knows, maybe it is.

Your number one guy,

Sampo

P.S. Okay you can light the letter on fire now just know that if you do I'll be left with nothing to do but drink at the bar until I'm crying my eyes out all by my lonesome. Orrrrr…you could join me. I would never complain about getting some time in your delightful company.

Sunday

My dove,

This is my first Valentine’s Day away from Penacony, let alone on the Astral Express with a lover I can call my own.

I find myself still adjusting to the sudden change. There's no one watching my every move and expecting utter perfection from me now but me. I still find myself checking my clothes, assuring my feathers are neat, and shining my halo to the point that it shines in the light of the stars surrounding us. They remind me of just how vast this galaxy truly is. How my past choices were a flicker of a flame to everyone else, but to me, it was my last ditch effort at saving a dying light.

Everything is different now.

I find myself mourning.

Only for you to walk in the room and wash each thought away like the oncoming tide to a cluttered shore just with your gaze and a twitch of your lips. It's like I'm hit with a revelation again: that things do in fact get better.

So please, keep smiling as you always do, my valentine.

All the best,

Sunday

[mclager]

Three | Reader X Carlos Sainz X Rebecca Donaldson

really short, I just needed to deal with this idea before I combust, but it was made with love ❤️

English is not my first language

Warnings: online bs, haters

Face claim: Anne-Marie

Imrebeccad

Imrebeccad Weekend with mine truly 🤍

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Carlossainz55 Guapas!! Liked by the author ❤️

Ynishere The 😝 duo is here!

User2 The way she puts her bestie first is iconic

User6 bros before hoes!!!!!!

User9 can we talk about how y/n looks like Rebecca and Carlos emo daughter?

→ ynishere @/carlossainz55 @/imrebeccad they're calling you both old!

→ user9 I'M NOT

→ carlossainz55 @/ynishere you're too young!

→ ynishere I'M 5 YEARS YOUNGER THAN YOU THAT'S NOT MUCH

User14 Carlos comment tho 😐

ynishere

Ynishere Pretty women only 🙏🏼

View all comments

Imrebeccad I love you, pretty! ❤️😝

→ ynishere love you too, bella! 🧡😝

Carlossainz55 Hermosas de mi corazón Liked by the author & imrebeccad

User8 if I was Rebecca I would be screaming and crying with Carlos comments on yn's posts, like what does he mean BEAUTIFUL OF MY HEART? No, please kill me already

User3 literally a family

User22 the only place yn is not giving emo is the beach

→ ynishere Forgive me father for I have sin 🙏🏼🙏🏼

Landonorris Carlos in the back, thinking about how he managed to the girl

→ ynishere I also got the girl!

→ landonorris and the boy this comment was deleted by the author

Carlossainz55

Carlossainz55 Great company ❤️

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User44 nuh uh! This is weird as shit! If Carlos is not cheating, he definitely wants to!

imrebeccad My favourite company, my two favourite persons in the entire world!

User66 everyone is dressed so nice and yn is in a hoodie... How did Carlos choose to cheat on Rebecca WITH HER?

Ynishere Maybe I do look like the weird daughter...

→ imrebeccad don't fuel the daughter allegations!

→ carlossainz55 I'm not old enough to be your father, please, stop

→ ynishere you two are boring...

User56 ok Rebecca, love, she WANTS YOUR MAN!

Landonorris Lucky man

User86 100% not emo any more

Imrebeccad posted a story

ynishere

Thnks fr th Mmrs - Fall Out Boys

Ynishere Carlos real reaction to the first pic, like 100% real! No clickbait ❌

(got tired of high heels, never again)

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User76 I don't know who's more of a whore around here

User49 Since when this became a whore house?!

Imrebeccad Nice job with the censoring!

→ ynishere thank you!

User98 So Rebecca is the whore, but Carlos what in...

User44 the girl befriended Rebecca just to try to end her relationship, SUCH A BITCH

carlossainz55 caught in 4K as you might say

→ ynishere glad you know

The comments are now limited

Carlossainz55 and imrebeccad

Carlossainz55 I wasn't supposed to post this, so I'll deal with the consequences of this later, but I have something to tell you guys. I've been seen so many shitty comments on yn's posts, calling her all sort of names that doesn't describe her in the least! She is the most caring, loving, funny, energetic, talkative person I ever met. Everything Rebecca and I can say are good things, and see people that don't know her at all talking shit gives me a headache. Yn say she doesn't care because it is not true, but I know she cares, so I came here to straight things up, I'm not cheating on anyone, Rebecca neither, we're just three people that love each other, and will keep loving each other till death, you liking it or not. Please be respectful with the two girls that I love, they don't deserve all this bullshit.

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Ynishere I'm too punk rock, I can't cry!

→ imrebeccad she is in fact crying

Ynishere I love you two so much!!!

User4 oh

User66 didn't expect this one

Landonorris Is the Spanish accent, isn't it?

→ ynishere yes

→ imrebeccad it helps

Charlesleclerc FINALLY JESUS CHRIST

Scuderiaferarri PR will contact you soon they're currently crying and shipping the new throuple (can't blame them) and @/Williamsracing good luck next year

→ Williamsracing We're READY! Blue will suit you well @/ynishere

→ ynishere @/Williamsracing I love you already 💙

Imrebeccad my two true loves ❤️

Danielricciardo ok, why all the juicy stuff happens after I got out?

[pomefioredove]

Hi hi! I have a request

Could I ask for romantic headcanons of dorm leaders(expect melleus) with a so whos melleus's younger sibling and when their on a date all they see is the disamona gang is spying on their date

AHHH help this is such a fun request!! diasomnia stakeout that lasts 5 minutes because sebek starts yelling the second he sees you holding hands with someone

summary: malleus' younger sibling type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not yuu

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

so we all agree that Riddle is probably the best choice? right?

as in, the least likely to get in trouble with the Diasomnia fam

Riddle, as a partner, is a perfect gentleman. won't even hold hands with you until a certain point in the relationship

(I mean, we're talking about Victorian England-level courting here)

out of everyone, he's the least likely to raise concern

...and yet.

it's probably Lilia that gets everyone worried

Riddle is a little... uptight for his tastes, after all, and Lils doesn't want you squandering your youth on rules and expectations

and so, he leads the great date stake-out

...for a completely inconspicuous mid-afternoon walk through the Heartslabyul rose gardens

you, of course, find all of them peeking at you from over a hedge almost right away

and just barely manage to shoo them off before Riddle sees and dies of embarrassment

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

GOOD LUCK

it's honestly a miracle that there even is a Leona Kingcholar left to date, rather than a pile of ashes on the ground

(Malleus is a terribly overprotective older brother)

...and he's quite convinced that Leona is dragging you around just to annoy him, specifically

so, what's he gonna do? not spy on you with the whole entourage?

he just needs to make sure you're okay, that's all

you, of course, knew that he didn't like the arrangement from the start, so you've already got an eye out on your dates

by the second or third, both you and Leona can tell you're being followed

...much to his annoyance

it takes a lot of "family meetings" with Lilia mediating before Malleus makes his peace with it

for now, anyway

so help him, if that oversized house cat hurts you...

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

everyone is... a little concerned that this is some kind of power play on Azul's behalf

Silver is probably the most worried, being in the same grade as him and knowing how tricky he can be

the original plan was to sit you down and express his concerns to you, and somehow that got turned into Lilia convincing everyone to wear fake mustaches and fedoras and spy on one of your dates in the lounge

(Malleus agrees because he thinks it's funny. Sebek agrees because Malleus does. poor Silver is powerless to stop it)

of course, you notice them right away

that's like... a given

besides the terrible disguises, Lilia and Malleus keep laughing and Sebek is white-knuckling the menu while trying to stay quiet

after that, you have a nice sit-down with everyone to discuss your personal boundaries

Silver gets his talk, after all :)

𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦

Lilia's failed attempts at convincing everyone that Kalim is a totally great boyfriend (wingman of the year, everyone) obviously don't work well

listen, Kalim is great. it could be a lot worse!

but also, uh...

his life tends to be a little hectic

the last thing the Diasomnia fam needs is for you to get poisoned

...or assassinated in some other grotesque fashion

so, of course, they tag along to a few parties, some dinners here and there...

they get caught pretty quickly, but lucky for them, Kalim is a great host, and so he invites them to just. join the dates

(much to your horror)

Sebek and Silver argue about who's going to taste your food for poison first

which Lilia ends up doing, anyway

(even if it is poisoned, it won't have any effect on him. he might even like it more)

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

Vil is probably the second safest option on this list

...and, of course, he gets scoped out for the same reason number one does

Lilia considers him just... too strict. I mean, he's young! you're young! you shouldn't be acting like grown-ups, you should be frolicking

or whatever it is kids these days are doing

when the four follow you on one of your way-too-nice dates, Vil is the first to notice

he's definitely annoyed at first, but comes to find the situation really funny

it's like paparazzi, but if the paparazzi were your extremely strange found-family, who are also wearing fake mustaches and pretending to be tourists at the table behind you

he'll let it slide, just this once

...but maybe you'll have more indoors dates for a while

𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝

Idia has already taken the necessary preventative measures

i.e., never actually going out for dates

if you want to eat something together, you can just come to his room for ramen and anime. what's so great about cafes and restaurants, anyway?

if you need some new scenery, he'll design a VR room for the two of you

it's pretty hard to spy on Idia- he's got a hell of a custom-coded security system on all of his devices

and besides that, Lilia was the one who set you two up in the first place. why would he be worried?

...okay, maybe the rest of the Diasomnia fam is a little concerned that you're dating someone who hasn't seen the sun in years

but you can handle yourself!

(he may still be receiving hundreds of very strongly worded and untitled emails from Sebek, though)

[jesswritesthat]

Miya Atsumu: VBC

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: -1.8k, fluff

• Joining the Inarizaki volleyball team isn’t what you expected, but maybe someone can help with that.

Warnings: fem!reader, curses

>>>>——————————>

In honesty you were ecstatic to transfer to Inarizaki High for second year, it gave you the opportunity to reconnect with your best friend Yuki, and you'd heard amazing things about the volleyball club there.

The key word being 'were'. It wasn't until you'd arrived did you understand the misconception - you had every intention of joining the females VBC despite your friends' discernment. Upon passing the advertising for afterschool clubs, you noted their sales pitch wasn't exactly suited to one's passion for the sport.

"The main reason to join is for the Miya twins!"

It was rather a passion for the boys.

"But this is the girls team." You'd deadpan stated, as if this resolved everything.

Alas the promoter and captain disagreed with a gleaming smile that suggested she'd been begging to elaborate on such things.

"Yes exactly! Atsumu and Osamu are interested in volleyball, meaning the boys team are liable to play us during training. Giving us a chance to spend time and learn from them~"

"Great, I'm all for the competition but—"

"If you're lucky you might even end up with a hot boyfriend!"

Instantly the leaflet in your palm was scrunched, a huff of disappointment escaping you.

"Then I'd rather find somewhere else to play." You curtly responded, the girl taken aback but cheerfully calling after you anyway.

"We— We're showing around potential recruits after school if you change your mind!"

Once reaching your newly assigned classroom, the balled up paper was dumped on your friends' desk who only looked up to you with a raised brow.

"That's why you were evasive about me joining the volleyball club Yuki."

She released a tired hum, like she'd been expecting this conversation, Hamada Yuki and yourself had been on a team together in middle school.

"Told ya (Y/n), as a member of the so-called 'Inarizaki Girls Volleyball Team', it's more of a damn fan club at this point." Yuki seethed, shooting the flyer into the bin across the classroom.

"I could tell. Is anyone serious there besides you?" You questioned once sitting at your desk beside hers, the setter shaking her head thoughtfully.

"A few. We're vastly outnumbered by fangirls though, we practice and they do whatever - sometimes asking us about terminology to impress certain people of course."

On that note, you figured it'd be worth seeing what the fuss was about later, and if what Yuki had told you was true.

Lo and behold, it was exactly like Yuki described. However, the second you'd reached the boys practice, the surrounding group of girls came to life with unadulterated adoration for the players. Squeals and cheers erupting when they'd take shots or score, meanwhile you'd analysed the plays with a degree of knowledge.

It was then you'd locked eyes with the charismatic setter, only for a second, before his shift in focus sent your fellow potentials into a frenzy.

That's enough. You walked out.

———

So the girls team wasn't your cup of tea. That didn't mean you'd cease playing the game you enjoyed - the nearby community centre hosted volleyball sessions regularly, and you were able to book time slots with Yuki and some of her teammates.

It meant you were settling into this new environment, even if it wasn’t perfect. As an Inarizaki tradition, and a volleyball fan, you naturally ended up watching a few of the boys games out of support. They were talented too, deserving of their recognition even if part of it was linked to their attractiveness.

“Ya came to the game huh, transfer?” He caught you as you were about to leave the gym in the midst of students fussing over them, an apologetic hand immediately retracting from your wrist where he’d reached for you.

“Yeah, apparently it’s a tradition or something since you guys are the pride of Inarizaki.” You’d spoken casually with a shrug which he seemed somewhat defeated by considering the recent victory.

“Oh really…?”

“Mhm. You played well though, Miya.”

“It’s nothin’, all thanks to training and my team y’know?” It appeared he’d reignited, a sudden enlightenment about him due to your praise.

“Keep it up then. See you around.”

“I— uh— yeah hope so!”

———

Today, you'd ventured to the centre, court doors open to allow a soft breeze to freshen the area. As well as a perspective viewpoint for curious passers-by, one that captured the double back of a certain blonde.

Finally, spike!

"Hey I know ya!"

Faltering, awry angle leaving you landing awkwardly but your hit was seemless. Still, you shot a dangerous glare to the intruders, finding Atsumu holding the door he'd previously slammed wide open and Osamu who also seemed tired of his twins' spontaneity.

"No, you don't Miya."

"Yer from class. The transfer.” Atsumu proudly replied to your dismissal, walking in with a wave alongside his brother who facepalmed with an agitated mutter.

“Their name is (L/n) (Y/n).”

“Well I never asked ‘em!” Even though you’d spoken a few times and it’d been nearly two months, this remained true.

"Okay, and?" Your lack of acknowledgement left Atsumu pouting slightly, but he was more intrigued by your choice of venue considering the fully functioning gym and team currently training at Inarizaki.

"And yer here playing volleyball instead of at school! Yer good, the girls team would be glad to have ya."

"I'd rather play for the community centre." You immediately responded a matter-of-factly, facing him now and spinning the recovered ball between your hands.

"But they don't get to enter high school competitions." It seemed he wasn't entirely convinced, having not discovered the answers he was politely fishing for.

"I know."

"Alright! I just wanna know why yer here? I’d get to play against ya if yer were apart of the school team." Atsumu argued again, more direct this time.

"Because the girls team is a damn fan club for you guys, the only score they're interested is scoring a date with you!"

"Huh, I mean..."

"Why bother joining a team like that when hardly any of them are there to actually play volleyball." You'd rolled your eyes, emotion present when explaining your point and Atsumu seemed to empathise.

"I get it. That'd piss me off too."

"Agreed." Osamu added, an understanding nod toward you.

"Then you have your answer."

With little more to say, the twins shared a sceptical look, before returning their focus to you once more.

“Would ya mind if we joined ya then?”

The question caught you off-guard, darting between them as if searching for some ulterior motive only to find none.

“I guess not.”

“Thanks (L/n).”

“Yeah cheers!” Osamu and Atsumu respectively threw their thanks and removed their jackets ready to play.

———

It’d been a week since that escapade, and you’d found the twins sharing gestures of greeting if they saw you around the school but nothing out of the ordinary. At least not until now…

"Psst (Y/n)!" Yuki came dashing in, evading desks until she'd reached yours with a devious look. "Guess what."

"You actually got an A?"

"Rude." A scoff. "No, Miya Atsumu came to practice yesterday."

"I am so sorry for your loss of concentration, I imagine your fangirl teammates couldn't take their eyes off him." Sarcasm flowed like an effortless river, one that normally fuelled Yuki, except she held a scheming tone when responding straightforwardly.

"He eradicated over half of the club."

"What?" You shock was evident, you’d heard he could be critical in games and a bit of an ass but this was unexpected - Yuki far too happy to extend.

"Yep. Miya comes in and gives a whole speech about ‘if you're not serious about playing then quit’. Said if they’re here for the boys team, he'll ask to open a practice for them to watch - and something about how being apart of this club isn't gonna catch his attention because he already likes someone.”

"Woah." It was all you could muster considering that this whole thing might've been linked to your conversation the other day. He wouldn't do that for such a trivial reason though, right? But if was to protect the sport he loved then it made sense.

"So... wanna join the team and play as my precious Spiker again?" Yuki persuadingly started when clasping your shoulders, earnest gratitude and glee lacing her voice.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! Remaining members want to progress and I want my middle school ace by my side again so we can kick ass and go to Nationals!"

"Then I'm in, but isn't there a trial or—" You matched her contagious energy, until she cut you off holding up an already filed applicant form.

"Just approval from the captain." Yuki smirked, that evil one she wore when she had something over you. "Me."

"You?”

"What? Once the chief of the Miya fan club quit along with the others, the team needed a serious captain.” She struck a model pose. “Who better than the reliable setter right?"

"I agree with the setter stuff, but uh can I talk to (L/n) for a sec?" The pair of you looked to the confident origin, finding none other than Atsumu walking toward you.

Yuki gave a little teasing wave and left you two to talk.

"I think ya should give the girls volleyball club a chance y'know." He’d held a hand to the back of neck, a lopsided grin on his lips regardless of the underlying awkwardness he harboured.

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Went there yesterday, no fangirls in sight - just the makings of a solid team. Maybe ya were wrong about it."

"Maybe I was. Captain Yuki did personally invite me, so the least I could do is try it out." You paused momentarily, meeting his auburn eyes with mischievous ones of your own. "Considering all your hard work Miya."

There was a guilty look crossing his expression ever so briefly, the blonde shaking it off with a cocky smile.

"No idea whatcha talking about. Whatever, do what ya want!"

———

The Inarizaki girls VBC was a brilliant one now it'd been fortified, you got to play alongside your best friend once more and were surrounded by a team of talented individuals who you could hang out with as friends too.

Due to improved team cohesion, there were even joint training sessions alongside the boys VBC, sessions which the third years had said were more frequent than they ever had been before.

They couldn't help but think all the beneficial changes recently were all down to a single catalyst. Said catalyst apparently trying to impress a certain someone who'd captured more than his attention. The same one who he’d been too nervous to ask for a name numerous times when sparking conversation. The same one he’d look for during games and throughout the school corridors.

Unfortunately the certain someone was oblivious to such signs and thought nothing of it when Inarizaki walked into the gym - their prodigal setter immediately laying eyes on who everyone knew to be this certain someone.

"Hey (Y/n), can I set for ya?"

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[callalillywrites]

Happy Birthday, Bucky

It took a bit to get through my writer's block, but here's the next square I promised for Bucky's Birthday Bingo (hosted by @avengers-assemble-bingo). We're finally getting Childhood Best Friends to Lovers with a side of Firefighter!Bucky Barnes from my Station #107 AU.

A little over a week late for Bucky's actual birthday, but better late than never, right?

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Firefighter!Bucky Barnes x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

Other characters: Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and Tony Stark

Summary: Only one person seems to have remembered it's Bucky's birthday, and that's you. Bucky would give anything to have you there with him. Lucky for him, his wish might just come true in more ways than one.

Word Count: ~2000

Warnings: some slight brooding on Bucky's part; lots of pining (Bucky); some thoughts of birthday being forgotten; Bucky POV; some teasing; lots of fluff

A/N: Well, here's the debut for Firefighter!Bucky within my Station #107 AU. While I wrote this in Bucky's POV, I'd love to revisit this one day and give us a glimpse of Reader's POV. If there's enough interest, that is.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

****

The tiny smile refused to leave Bucky's face as he read your message again.

It might've been a simple wish for him to have a happy birthday, but he couldn't help how his heart raced at the fact you remembered. Not that he was truly surprised you did remember. You've never forgotten in all the years you'd known each other, but this year, it seemed like everyone else had forgotten.

Even Steve.

To be fair, Steve had run off earlier that morning to take care of some unexpected errands, already planning to make up his hours with the other shift.

But still, his best friend (well, other best friend because he had you, too) could've said something before he'd left.

Maybe that's the reason why your message meant so much to him.

He couldn't for the life of him understand why all his friends and co-workers seemed hell-bent on not remembering. Sure, it was just another day on the job, but that didn't mean he didn't want to be remembered in some way. Hell, they even had a calendar with everyone's birthdays written on it.

Though, he had to admit he couldn't explain why his name had been erased from the day. He could've sworn he'd written it down. And in ink, to boot. Yet, here he was without anyone acknowledging the day, and their shift would be ending soon.

Before he could stop himself, he typed, When are we seeing you again? Miss ya.

Soon, you typed back almost immediately.

Not exactly satisfied with your answer, Bucky also recognized you had a busy schedule. Not only were you working towards your master's in actuarial science, but you also had a full-time job. This didn't include your other friends and whatever social life you managed to find in the spare minutes of your day. For reasons he refused to analyze, he shut that train of thought down immediately. It wasn't his business if you dated others though his heart had other ideas on that matter.

"Hey, Buck, we gotta go. Another call to the Tower," Nat called out, her steps rushing towards their gear station. "Supposed to be a big one this time."

"Not again," he mumbled under his breath.

The calls to Stark Tower weren't uncommon for their station. In fact, it's one of the reasons why a lot of the firefighters who worked at Station #107 lived in Stark Tower at a steep discount. It's the only way they could guarantee fast arrival to handle any of the many disasters that one billionaire genius could possibly pull off.

Thankfully, these routine calls to the Tower had become so ingrained. It didn't take them no time at all to get everyone geared and onboard their truck.

"Steve's meeting us there," Nat said, taking the seat next to Bucky. Clint had already claimed shotgun that morning after Steve ducked out, daring anyone to try and take it from him.

Sam grinned from behind the wheel. "Can't wait to see what that man has done this time."

"Only you would be excited about that, Samuel," Nat shot back before sending Bucky a wink. Her typical smirk disappeared after a moment as she leaned in with a slight frown on her features. "You okay? You're not your typical cheerful self."

His tongue burned with the desire to unleash his disappointment, but he bit it back in the end. Instead, he settled for a small shake of his head. "Just tired, I guess. Hard to sleep with these loud mouth-breathers at night."

"Excuse you," both Sam and Clint exclaimed together though Clint added, "I'm a delight to sleep with. Just ask my wife."

"Ah yes, her ear plugs really help keep that love alive," Nat said which earned her another glare for her efforts.

Their playful banter continued, but Bucky had since tuned it out. His gaze settled on the passing storefronts along the few blocks they had to travel to reach the Tower. It never failed to soothe him as they traversed the same streets he grew up playing on, even if he did spend most of his time in Brooklyn in his younger years.

Him, Steve, and you.

The hours you three would spend getting into and out of trouble. Those were probably some of the best times of his life, and he wished the three of you could go back to those days. Before university. Before the Army. Before life had gotten a bit more complicated. Before birthdays became another ordinary day.

"Hey, Buckaroo, you good?" Sam nudged Bucky's arm, nodding toward the building beside them. "You really zoned out there."

Bucky nodded. "Let's get this over with."

Taking his cue, the others fell in line around him as they made their way inside.

The receptionist smiled warmly, spying them. Her hand waved almost frantically despite her professionalism. "We're so glad you're here. The incident happened in his personal suite this time. He refuses to tell us how bad it is, but Ms. Potts isn't happy. She hasn't stopped calling to check on your progress. Security's already cleared the elevators, so you can go right up."

They thanked her and headed toward the bank of elevators near the back of the lobby.

"Why would they clear the elevators without us okaying that?" Bucky asked, the thought suddenly occurring.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "Who cares? At least we're not climbing hundreds of flights of stairs."

Not one to argue with that, Bucky didn't bother to say anything, opting to step into the first elevator to arrive. If he pressed the button to the penthouse a little harder than necessary, no one bothered to mention it.

The ride up to the penthouse for once was relatively quiet. No one bothered to take bets on what Tony Stark could've possibly done this time compared to last. No discussion on what they could be facing or what they'd need to handle this latest situation.

In hind sight, Bucky should've known something was up, but his mind continued to brood. A stray thought kept coming up about possibly calling you later. If anything could lift his mood, an hour talking to you would do it. He'd settle for a couple minutes if you were too busy. He really hoped you wouldn't be.

The elevator dinged, then swished open to a loud chorus of "Surprise".

Streamers and confetti shot towards them.

Steve stood next to Tony, beaming. "Happy birthday, Buck."

"Oh, man, look at his face," Sam crowed as he clapped Bucky on the shoulder, moving past him into the penthouse towards the large buffet table resided. "Dude's been moping all day, thinking we forgot all about him."

That pulled a frown across Steve's features. "Clint, didn't you get my text?"

"No," Clint pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. After a moment, a sheepish expression washed over his features. His gaze met Steve's, then Bucky's. "That's totally my fault."

Nothing Clint said made any sense, so Bucky turned toward Steve who didn't disappoint as he offered, "We all signed a card that you were supposed to get this morning. I, uh, had a last-minute thing come up, which is why I texted Clint to be sure he got it from my desk. That's on me for not following up. I guess I got a little preoccupied. I'm sorry, Buck."

"It's fine," came his automatic reply.

"Now, now, even I know that's a lie," you said from behind him, "What happened? You used to lie so well. How else did we get ourselves out of trouble so often?"

Bucky spun around and pulled you into a tight enough embrace. He didn't think he'd ever get over how well you fit within the expanse of his arms or the sweet scent you favored. While he remained mindful of the scruff lining his face, he couldn't exactly help but nuzzle against the sensitive spot just below your jaw, only pulling back when you squirmed against him.

By then, you were tapping him to let you out, but that didn't stop him from holding on another full second or two. If he could have his way, he'd never let you go again. Instead, he settled for whispering, "Really missed ya, Sugar."

"I never would've guessed," you said so cheekily that his smile spread easily across his lips. After a moment, you softened. "I missed you, too. Happy birthday, Bucky."

If you were surprised he kept you at his side throughout his party, you never said anything about it. No, you rolled with it like you'd always done with him and Steve in your younger years. Already familiar with most of his co-workers, you quickly fell into your natural teasing personality with most of them, giving Sam and even Clint a run for their money.

It was only when you two moved toward the main host of Bucky's birthday bash that you surprised him.

"So, you're the one I'm supposed to keep my eye on with my new role," you said as you eyed Tony with a skeptical analysis that had the genius billionaire speechless for once. "Pepper warned me about you, and I've seen the montage your A.I. created for me of all your mishaps. Gonna make me earn my nice, fat paycheck, aren't you?"

Bucky spun you until you faced him, not Tony. He knew his face had to be comical, but he didn't care as he asked, "You're moving back here, Sugar?"

Your smile widened while you nodded.

"I thought you liked living in Boston. It was your dream to work there."

"Boston's nice," you shrugged, "but it doesn't hold a candle to our city. I got my fancy master's degree from my ridiculously fancy school. Decided to come back here and work. Plus, I had a little birdie who kept talking me up to Pepper about how I'd be a good fit at Stark Industries."

You nodded over his shoulder which Bucky obliged, only to find Steve raising his glass with a smirk that belied just how proud he was of himself. The punk.

It took Bucky a moment to come back to the conversation, hearing you say, "You're looking at Stark Industries' new Chief Risk Officer with the specialized priority of keeping Tony from upsetting their insurance companies more than he already has. I've already started work on some new protocols within J.A.R.V.I.S's programming to help override some of Tony's dumber decisions."

"Excuse you," Tony hollered.

Most of Bucky's fellow firefighters lounging close by overheard what you said and burst out laughing. Not one of them hadn't been grousing at one point or another when it came to the rather unique calls they'd answered because of Tony and his 'innovations' that initially went terribly wrong.

Neither Bucky nor you acknowledged Tony, who'd finally come out of his speechless state. While both of you were certain he had plenty to say, neither of you cared in that moment as you finally asked, "You're fine with me coming back, aren't you? I'm staying with Steve tonight in his quarters while Pepper finishes fixing mine up. So, I won't be in your way should you find some lucky lady to finish your birthday with."

"Oh, Sugar, you're the only lady I want to spend my birthday with." He pulled you into another tight embrace, still unsure if you're really a dream or not. If you were, he never wanted to wake up. As it stood, he couldn't wait to prove you were the only lady he wanted in his life permanently. As long as you wanted to be anyway.

That could wait another day though.

Right then, he had something worth celebrating that birthday, and he planned to embrace it all.

After all, he had what he wanted most standing in that room and at his side.

[charminglyantiquated]

9/25 update on the Nautilus, for anyone curious. Details below (long), but in summary: the damage is more expensive than we'd hoped. We will have to buy Nautilus back as salvage and repair her mostly out of pocket. We still do intend to repair her, but it seems now it will be over a timeline of several years. The fundraiser for her repairs has been raised to reflect the new estimate, and will remain up as long as we're working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute. I'm so unbelievably, profoundly grateful to all of you who have helped us so far. Thank you so, so much.

Damage: a joint survey was conducted Tuesday between surveyors from our insurance and that of the other vessel. It will be another 3-4 weeks before we have the official paperwork, but the consensus was that the damage approaches twice Nautilus' value. In addition to the mast and all the attached rigging, sails, hardware, etc., the teak deck would have to come up in order to address the damage to the deck and hull. This means that rather than pay for repairs, our insurance company is almost certainly going to write her off as a total loss.

I am waiting for formal documentation before sharing any exact numbers. Once we have them I will be more precise. But the general process as I understand it right now is below, for anyone curious about how everything shakes out.

What a loss means with insurance: my understanding is that repair damages are only covered by insurance up to the point a vessel is totaled. Since the damages almost certainly surpass her value then she would be totaled instead. In this scenario, our insurance would give us the value the Nautilus was insured for, and then pursue the other vessel's insurance for their own reimbursement. Additionally the other insurance might give us the income we lost over the remainder of the season, but whether that will happen and what amount that would be is up in the air, with the three different attorneys we consulted agreeing that we'd be fortunate to get any amount. Anything beyond that is apparently unlikely, any other legal pursuit would possibly lose us more money that we might hope to gain.

On our end: we took out a loan to buy Nautilus in April, and still owe the majority of it. By the terms of the loan, with a total loss we would have to pay back the full loan immediately. Then, because this is essentially our insurance 'buying' Nautilus from us, we would have to buy her back as salvage. The salvage price would be determined by the salvageable parts of her, and the surveyor. Hopefully it would be less than five figures, but it depends heavily on which insurance company actually ends up with her, and how exhaustively they tally up the pieces of her that they could sell. The surveyors could not tell us at the time of the survey who would end up with her or what they would charge. For the next month or two Nautilus is in a kind of purgatory where we do still technically own her, but only until insurance gets through the paperwork, which makes it difficult to begin any work right now.

Financially: when the dust settles, once the loan is paid and we own Nautilus once more as salvage, I think that based on the current estimates we may have some funds remaining. But even in the best case scenario - low salvage price, and we do receive lost income - it wouldn't be enough to finance all the needed repairs. My partner and I will be keeping the fundraiser up for as long as we are working on her, for anyone who wishes to contribute to her repair fund. Any help from anyone who would like to see her sailing again will always be deeply appreciated, but we're both aware it's an absurd number. If we fail to meet it, we're both keenly aware it's not through any lack of generosity - I cannot possibly express how grateful we are for the help we have received already, and what a massive difference it has made over the last month as we deal with the immediate and long-term fallout, covering her haul-out and towing and bills over the months it will likely take to resolve all this.

Fixing Nautilus: my partner and I are still committed to repairing her, despite the cost and the time involved. The thought of letting her be cut up for salvage is too heartbreaking to bear. But at the pace things are progressing and with the resources we have, it's obvious now that it's not feasible to fix her fully over the winter; it will instead be over the course of several years. However, my partner and I hope that by doing as much of the work ourselves as we are qualified for, we can bring down the overall cost of repairs by a fair amount. Additionally, the broken mast was built only a few years ago by a gentleman who still has the plans for it and is willing to guide us through the process of building a replacement. There is a possibility we can connect with a local boat building school's fledgling restoration program. And a great many people have offered their time, advice, expertise, and contacts. The timeline has changed, but we are not giving up on her.

In the meantime: with the survey done, we now have at least a general idea of what the future will look like. Since working nonstop to get Nautilus sailing again by June is not on the table any longer, my partner and I are currently figuring out a long-term plan for ourselves, our little company, and the Nautilus herself. We have discussed a few ideas, which I'll share more about once we settle on anything concrete. Nautilus herself is finally clear of wreckage, with the pieces of her mast on sawhorses beside her, her deck swept clean, solar panel plugged in, and a tarp over the worst of the damage. She's as safe as we can make her for now; there's nothing else we can do except wait for the wheels to turn.

Lastly: thank you all, more than I can say. I have been trying not to miserypost, but I have been having a very hard time dealing with this, as has my partner. It took us ten years to save the money we put into Nautilus, and the few months we were able to spend sailing her together were the happiest and proudest I have been in my life. We have lost the future we'd imagined, and regardless of how this resolves, we are never getting that time back. We are determined not to lose the Nautilus as well, but it has honestly been difficult some days to push through the grief. The one consistent silver lining has been the kindness and sympathy and outrage from everyone who has taken the time to reach out to us. I have been floored, over and over, by how many people we have rooting for us. I am never, ever going to be able to express my full gratitude to all of you. Without exaggeration, you have kept me going.

I will share more once we know more - exact numbers, exact damage, exact plans for repairs and the next steps. Until then, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

[captainsophiestark]

We're Good

Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: TVD/TO

Summary: Kol meets Davina and finally seems serious about someone, so his best friend convinces herself to finally let go of her secret crush. But when Kol gets jealous of her paying attention to another guy, what once seemed settled might not actually be finished.

Word Count: 3,092

Category: Angst, Fluff

A/N: Title is lightly inspired by the Dua Lipa song, although the fic doesn't totally fit it.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I tried not to scowl as I watched Kol from the second level of the Mikaelson compound. He was down on the dancefloor, in the middle of the latest party he and his family had decided to throw. I knew Nik or Elijah had some ulterior motive for hosting, but I hadn't cared because this time, I'd had my own ulterior motive. I'd put on my absolute best outfit and made sure I looked like a knockout, all so I could finally tell Kol Mikaelson, my longtime friend and crush, how I really felt about him.

And now, before I could, he was standing at the edge of the dancefloor trying to make a move on Davina Claire.

I should've known. Kol and I had been friends for a long time, and despite pretty regular flirty moments between us, he'd never taken any steps to make us something more serious. Instead, he flirted with, hooked up with, and even dated whatever mortal he'd most recently fallen for while I stood by pretending not to get my heart broken.

This time, I was done with it. For good.

I set my jaw and squinted, refusing to let the tears fall as I turned from the balcony. I almost made it into a hallway off the Mikaelson compound where I could disappear from everything, but of course, I couldn't quite get that lucky.

"He's a bloody idiot, you know."

Rebekah Mikaelson, my best friend in the world, stood before me with her hands on her hips, blocking my exit.

"Rebekah-"

"I'd love to have you for a sister-in-law, but you deserve better than one of my idiot brothers. As a boyfriend and as a friend."

"Bex, I don't want to hear it right now."

The sympathy on her face almost killed me, but she stepped aside. I thought that would be it, but then she called out to me just before I could turn the corner and escape this whole mess.

"Mourn all you like tonight, but tomorrow we're going out! There are plenty of men in this city to help you forget all about Kol!"

****************

Rebekah gave me exactly one day before she started hounding me about going out on the town to forget her "idiot brother". And honestly, I might've ignored her, except for the fact that Kol spent the entire day after the ball with Davina.

I'd always known he was a flirt, but this time, he actually seemed to mean it. So I gave him more space than usual, for my sake as much as his, and spent more time wih Rebekah. We baked and went on walks, and after a while, I stopped shooting her down when she tried to drag me to bars. Kol kept hanging out with Davina, but slowly, seeing them together was starting to hurt a little less. I always thought if he found a girl to get serious about, it would be me. And a tiny little part of my heart still tore to shreds when I saw how wrong I'd been. But unlike those first few days, the heartbreak wasn't eating me alive anymore.

Which is how I ended up out at a bar with the entire Mikaelson family, dancing my heart out on the dancefloor without a second thought for whether Kol would join me.

We'd first started a montly tradition of the firve of us going out and just having fun a few years ago, and despite various dramas and the siblings scattering to the winds, we'd more or less managed to keep it up. We always picked a place a few hours from where any of us were living and planned to stay the night, so we could well and truly forget everything but having a good time together. Normally, I spent the night orbiting Kol, to the point that Nik usually had a field day giving me shit about it. Tonight had been a little different.

I'd joined Nik in dragging Elijah out of the house, gone with Rebekah to order all of us some truly strange, fun cocktails, and danced the night away on the dancefloor with all of them, without my mind or gaze constantly circling back to Kol. He didn't seem to even notice the shift, and I was surprised to find that it didn't really bother me. Kol was a good friend, after all, and with a little more time to process, maybe we'd even be better off.

"Hey!" Rebekah shouted into my ear, still barley making herself heard over the music around us. We'd been here for hours, but none of us showed any signs of slowing down just yet. "That guy at the bar has been staring at you all night!"

I turned to follow her gaze and found a handsome guy looking back. He smiled, a little sheepish, and I returned the gesture before whipping around to Rebekah.

"Why are you so fixated on setting me up with somebody?"

"Because it's fun! And I haven't got to do it once in all the time I've known you because you've been so hung up on Kol. So come on, let me have my fun!"

I made a face. I wasn't sure I wanted to take a chance on the random person Rebekah had found, regardless of me finally being over Kol. She huffed, then leaned in to speak in my ear again.

"Just trust me! I compelled him and asked him some questions, and he seems like someone you'd get along quite well with!"

I closed my eyes. "You compelled him, Rebekah? Seriously?"

"Well how else was I supposed to make sure he wasn't some sleezy werewolf or something? Go on, just talk to him!"

"Fine! Fine, but it's still our Mikaelson Family Fun Day, so I'm just going to talk."

"That's fine with me! Although I promise not to judge you if you don't come back to the room tonight-"

I picked up the nearest thing I could find (a stack of napkins) and hucked it at her, which she easily dodged. I did my best to ignore her laughing behind me as I headed for the bar.

The guy smiled as I approached him, and I smiled back. I headed for an open spot standing next to him at the bar, and he started speaking as soon as I came within hearing range.

"Hey! I've been hoping you'd come over and say hi all night."

I smiled. "Why didn't you come over and say hi yourself?"

"Didn't want to interrupt you and your friends if you didn't want to be bothered," he said with a shrug. "Although, that girl Rebekah tried awfully hard to get me to come over once or twice."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, Rebekah loves nothing more than meddling, especially in my life." I paused. "I'm glad she convinced me to come over and talk to you though."

"So am I! I-"

He broke off at the same time as I felt someone slide up to the bar behind me, chest almost pressed into my back. I started to turn around to tell whoever it was to back off, but a familiar voice spoke up before I could.

"Why don't you go find someone else to bother, mate?" said Kol, his tone laced with the slightest undercurrent of a threat. Apparently, he'd decided to make sure he got what he wanted, because a moment later the guy whose name I hadn't even been able to get yet turned on his heel and walked away.

I rounded on Kol with a furious scowl, but he just grinned back at me, still very close and in my personal space. Normally, the proximity would've left me with butterflies, but right now all I felt was anger growing in the pit of my stomach.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I asked, an edge to my voice that I'd really never directed at Kol before. His eyebrows shot up, but otherwise, he didn't seem bothered.

"I was getting rid of that creep who was bothering you. Come on, darling, I thought you'd be thanking me-"

"Thanking you? Kol, he clearly wasn't bothering me! I came up to him, for God's sake!"

"Well I'm sorry, it just looked like you might want me to step in-"

"How? How did it look like that, Kol?"

My voice was getting louder now, enough that a few people were starting to take notice, but I didn't care. I was furious at my so-called friend and he was going to hear about it.

Kol cleared his throat. "Love, maybe we should take this somewhere else-"

"Knock it off with the pet names! Kol seriously, what the fu-"

In a split second, the bar disappeared around me. Instead, I found myself thrown over Kol's shoulder as he vampire-sped out of the bar. When we finally stopped, it was just inside the front door of the house we'd all rented, with Kol's back to me as he closed the front door.

I took my opening and hurled the nearest pillow at his head. It hit its target dead on, and I got halfway through picking up another one when Kol used his vamp speed to close the distance between us and grab my wrist.

"Hey! Knock it off, alright? What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you kidding me Kol?" I wasn't sure whether I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, or all three, but I focused on the screaming part as I faced a bewildered Kol. "You absolute hypocrite, how dare you pull me out of that bar, and how dare youstep into my conversation like that!"

"What? Is this seriously all about me scaring off that one guy? You hardley knew him!"

"Obviously it's not completely about him, although that move still sucked, Kol! It's about you thinking you have some right to barge into my life and scare off a guy who might be interested in me! Because that's what it was, right? There's no way you thought I wanted him gone, so you did all this because you wanted him gone, right?"

"...I- I guess I didn't really like seeing him with you, but-"

"But nothing! Kol, we've had just a kind of flirty friendship forever. And whenever it seemed like we might be heading into something else, you were always the one to bail out. And last month, when you found Davina and got serious about someone else, it ripped my heart out. But I forced myself to take some time and get over it! Because that's your choice, and I care about you regardless of if you want to date me. But Kol, you have been clearly, specifically going after Davina lately. Which means you have absolutely no right to come tell some guy at the bar to back off when he's flirting with me."

"Darling, come on-"

I held up a hand to cut Kol off. The storm of emotions had finally started calming, hardening into something more manageable. I'd let myself struggle in this relationship without ever having an up front conversation for far too long. We were going to set some boundaries and have it all out, whether or not Kol wanted to. I was done with the rollercoaster ride.

"Kol, I know you call a lot of people 'darling', but if you want to stay friends with me then I'm going to need you to stop calling me that."

Kol just stared at me for a few moments, blinking and apparently processing everything I'd just said. His eyebrows knit together and he looked seriously distressed, but I refused to back down. After a moment, he took a half step towards me, his hand reaching out slightly towards my own.

"...And what if I don't think I want to be friends anymore, darling?"

I scoffed, another overwhelming wave of anger rising up and over me. I shook my head and turned around, walking a few steps away and hoping the space would help me cool down.

"You better not be flirting with me right now, Mikaelson, after everything I just said and everything you've been up to with Davina lately."

"Davina and I aren't together, love. We went on a few dates after Nik's little party, but we've hardly seen each other since then, and I don't intend to keep anything going. You might have noticed, but you started avoiding me after the ball and I had no idea why."

I turned to face Kol at last, scanning his face for any hint of something that might help me make up my mind on how to feel about all this. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, and I scowled.

"I wish you'd said something earlier about this little crush of yours, honestly. I didn't think I had a shot in hell with you. It would've saved us both some time."

I shook my head, slowly at first and then much much faster. Before I completely realized what I was doing, I crossed the room and smacked Kol in the chest. He was one of the oldest vamipres to ever live, so it didn't have much of an impact on him, but it definitely made me feel better.

"Kol Mikaelson, you jackass! You do not get to use this as an excuse to confess feelings for me!"

He laughed, holding up his hands and clearly fighting a beaming smile. I slowly tapered off my assault, instead opting for crossing my arms and absolutely fuming at him.

"Seriously, Kol, this isn't funny. I show interest in someone else for the first time in our friendship, and all of a sudden you're dropping everything to come and confess feelings for me? You get why I don't feel like that's completely sincere, right?"

Kol sighed, the smile finally falling off his face. He moved to close the distance between us again, and this time, I let him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not joking because it's a joke to me, I promise. I've had feelings for you as long as I've known you, darling, but I didn't think I had a chance with you. And you've been important to everyone in our family for just about as long as we've known you. If I made things complicated, or made you want to stop spending time with all of us, my siblings would've literally killed me."

I snorted, looking down so Kol wouldn't see me fighting a smile off my face. No matter what, Kol always seemed able to make me smile when I least wanted to. Normally, it was one of my favorite things about him.

"What can I do, hm? What can I do to prove I mean what I'm saying?"

I sighed, crossing my arms and at last looking up at Kol. With wide eyes and no hint of the sardonic smile I knew so well, he looked more serious than I'd ever seen him before.

"...If you're really sure about this, Kol, that you really mean this...?"

"I do. Darling, I swear I do. I promise you, I won't waste the chance if you give me one."

"Okay, then prove it. I've never seen you go more than a week without flirting with some human, witch, vampire, werewolf, or whatever other sentient beings we come across. Make it a month, and maybe I'll believe what you said about being serious about this."

"...And will we be dating for that month?"

Slowly, I shook my head. "No. I want to, Kol, and I want that to be where this goes, but... I need to see that this is real first. I want to believe it is, so badly, but after centuries of meaningless flirting and dancing around each other without a conversation, of seeing you have flings every chance you get and watching each one of those burn out... I can't just take it on faith."

Kol sighed, glancing down at the ground before meeting my eyes again. He didn't say anything, just closed the little remaining distance between us as he brought his arms up to circle my waist. He pulled me to him, leaning down with a glance at my lips, and I didn't stop him as he pulled me into a kiss.

Fireworks exploded in my chest. My knees went a little week as I leaned further into Kol, resting my hands on his shoulders. After a few long moments, just as my common sense started returning to tell me what a mistake this was, Kol pulled back with a grin.

"Sorry, darling. But I couldn't wait a month to do that."

I snorted and shook my head, stepping carefully out of Kol's grip. He watched my every move with a smile, and my heart did a backflip when he licked his lips. I told my heart to calm the hell down.

"I... certainly didn't mind the potential preview," I admitted.

Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair as he looked at me.

"This is going be the longest month of my life... but if that's what it'll take, I'll make it through. I know it'll be worth it, especially now."

I rolled my eyes, but this time, I couldn't quite keep a smile off my face. Finally, my heart started returning to a normal pace, and I managed to meet Kol's eyes again without having a cardiac event.

"Alrlight, so... what do we do now? I don't know about you, but I don't particularly want to go back to the bar."

"Is that a joke, darling?" He raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head. His mouth dropped open like he couldn't believe I was serious. "I may not get to do the activity I most want to do right now for another month, but I did just get my best friend back after extensive radio silence. We have so many episodes of our favorite shows to catch up on!"

"...You didn't watch them without me?"

"Of course not! Did you watch them without me?"

"Of course not!"

"Well then, there you have it! That's our evening. You make the popcorn, I'll turn on the tv."

I laughed as Kol turned on his heel, getting immediately to work. I still wanted to wait the month I'd made him promise; I still wasn't confident his romantic affections wouldn't wander. But despite all that, a massive weight lifted off my chest as I headed into the kitchen for snacks. I had my best friend back, and finally, after a ridiculous amount of waiting and dancing around each other and poor communication, we were actually getting a shot at our happy ending.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming]

And we're back with...

Nicole Reads A Lot of Fanfiction (and she's gonna share it with you): Week 2

I really thought I read more Sterek this week.. it's because 2 of them were Big Boys™

Anyway: Buddie (11) & Sterek (4). Bone Apple Teeth.

tying you to me by rarakiplin (gmontys) | @hoediaz (2022•T•5.3K)

“Diaz?” The man — and it is Eddie Diaz, Buck can’t not see it now — blinks, and in a split second his expression shutters closed. “Buckley.” Buck wonders if he looks different without Diaz’s blood on his face. - or, eddie and buck meet each other at rock bottom

Wrapped In A Dream With You by lemotmo | @lemotmo (2025•T•35.7K)

“A snow globe,” Eddie said, staring in awe at the beautiful snow globe in his hands. It was absolutely stunning, with a red and green base and a complete snowy landscape embedded in the interior of the globe. Eddie studied it carefully. There were trees and little painted woodland animals hiding underneath them, and even in them. In the middle stood a beautiful little cottage, intricately adorned with tiny Christmassy details: miniature lights, wreaths of holly all around. “There’s a switch on the bottom,” Chimney said. He sounded excited. Eddie flipped it and suddenly the globe was a beacon of light, the tiny cottage lighting up in the snowy landscape. And— in front of the cottage there was a small figure. Something he had missed without the light on. It was the figurine of a tiny man, beautifully crafted and painted to perfection. This is a story about breakups, curses, attraction, loneliness, falling in love, finding happiness and joy, but most of all this is a story about a snow globe and how it changed the course of Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley's life forever.

Policy of Truth by Eros Heartache (Eros_Heartache) (2025•M•1.2K)

A game of truth or dare turns into a first for Eddie.

gentle cravings by saucerfulofsins | @saucerfulofsins (2024•E•5.4K)

“Fucking – ow,” Eddie complains, wincing at the pain. “You’re acting like a massage therapist!” “Well,” Buck drawls. “Not quite.” Eddie is silent for a couple of seconds before groaning. “Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve dated a massage therapist.”

there's nothing else I can do but love you the best that I can by disasterbuck | @disasterbuck (2025•GA•1K)

After losing someone on a call, Buck hides himself away; Eddie makes sure he isn't alone for long. - "Oh, Buck…" Eddie whispered, carefully crossing over to him and sitting down too. He ran his fingers through some of Buck's hair before wrapping himself around him, holding him securely. "I'm here," he murmured. "I've got you."

we could be lucky again by heartbeatdiaz | @lonelychicago (2025•T•15.9K)

“Can I help you?” Eddie asks cautiously. Christopher opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His mind blanks. All the scenarios he imagined—the ways this might play out—scatter out like dust. Finally, he manages, “This is gonna be hard to believe, specially for you, but— I'm Christopher. Your son. I, uh, come from the future?” His voice turns higher at the end of the sentence and it makes it sound more like a question than the fact he was trying to announce. Eddie freezes. “What?” His voice is sharp, disbelieving, and his posture gets more defensive. He can see a hint of anger simmering underneath. “Look, man, if this is some kind of sick joke—” Christopher swallows hard, forcing himself to stand straighter. “Dad. It’s me.” or; While working at NASA, an experiment goes wrong and sends Chris years back into the past. This might be the perfect opportunity to fix some wrongs.

when your heart releases, you won't fall to pieces by Daffi_990_ao3 | @daffi-990 (2025•GA•13.8K)

Eddie finally looks at Buck and the fear and sorrow that rages in the muddied storm waters of his eyes has Buck flinching slightly. He’s so used to Eddie’s eyes being sun kissed pools of rich coffee that draw you in with their warmth, making you feel safe. “They’re all dead, they’re all dead, they’re all dead”. Eddie whispers it over and over again and Buck doesn’t know what to do besides move closer and pull him into his arms. Eddie doesn’t fight him, just falls into the safety of Buck’s embrace, clutching tightly at his back as a broken sob falls from his mouth. Eddie continues to cry into Buck’s neck as Buck wraps his arms securely around him, a shield of flesh and bone attempting to protect Eddie from the horrors of whatever is haunting him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Buck murmurs into Eddie’s hair, his lips caressing the sweat soaked strands. “I’ve got you.” OR Buck supports the Diaz boys after Eddie's breakdown, realising along the way that home really is where the heart is.

The Handsome Man by DuoOfDiaz (TPCOTMW) | @smolfunpenguin (2024•M•13.2K)

E.B.Buckley grew up in Hershey, Pennsylvania. He spent a large portion of his childhood in and out of hospital after suffering some minor accidents. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as even though he spent this time unable to socialise, he was able to turn to imagination and started making up stories and journaling his experiences, honing his skills to become the bestselling author we know and love today. E.B.Buckley is currently #1 on the romantic novel bestseller list, and lives in LA. - Taken from the jacket cover of the Special Edition Reprint of 'The Peruvian Man'

ode to a conversation with a friend by teenytinytomlinson | @littlefreakbuckley (2025•GA•4.2K) [Background Buddie]

“Eddie’s more like the older brother I never had,” May explains, because she knows Lauren well enough by this point to know that she most likely won’t let this go. Which is why when he’d texted her to ask if she could grab coffee one day this week she hadn’t batted an eye. Sure, Eddie’s older than her by a decade, but they’d become actual friends during their time together at dispatch. Not even coworker friends—you know the ones; you’re nice because your desks are next to each other and you share a break room, but you have no desire to see them off the clock. On mornings her word-of-the-day is particularly tantalizing; she'll open their text thread, and send whatever it is with no context. She considers herself a really good friend when Buck uses the word malodorous conversationally at one of Bobby’s barbeques, and she doesn’t say anything about it, just shoots Eddie a look that he pretends not to see as he throws a baseball with Denny. or, Eddie comes out to May.

everyone knows how much i love you by buckgettingstruck | @buckgettingstruck (2024•T•5K) [Part of a bigger domestic-verse but I read it as a stand alone]

“That’s Captain Diaz? Of the 133?” Cassidy asked. He stopped by the academy last week to drop off lunch for Buck — Cassidy got there early that morning, so she’d been one of the few who spotted him. It took everything in her not to laugh when she’d heard Buck flirtatiously yell “hi captain” across the room at him when he arrived. Eddie turned bright red. Buck grinned wide. “Yeah, we’ve been married for six years. We were partners on the job before I started here.” aka: 5 times Buck’s recruits see how obsessed Buck is with Eddie/his family + one time a recruit is completely oblivious

Next to your heartbeat, where I should be by rainbow_nerds | @rainbow-nerdss (2025•E•11.4K)

Eddie’s not a complete idiot. He knows this isn’t normal. He stands in front of a mirror in his underwear, the tightest pair he owns, and he poses for a picture at an angle he’s learned flatters his ass and the curve of his thigh, to send to his best friend. He knows this isn’t what most best friends do. He also knows most straight guys don’t spend extensive amounts of time staring at men’s thirst trap accounts, or thinking about how their best friends look half-naked, but… That’s not what Eddie is focusing on right now. He’s just focusing on feeling good, following the path that sparkles with joy, and refusing to overthink it. If happiness is Buck sending a meme of a guy with a nosebleed back to his shirtless selfie, then that’s what happiness is. Eddie has spent too long denying himself to let this be what stops his journey towards loving himself. It doesn’t need to make sense. It just needs to be positive. It’s not like he’s breaking any commandments, as Father Brian would say.

Twilight by Hedwig221b | @hedwig221b (2025•E•67.7K)

Derek. Stiles thought about him the most. Something told him that it wasn’t the last time, far from it. He thought about his softness and his open desire to kill. Stiles’ hands remembered the heat of his hands. His neck longed to feel the coating warmth of Derek’s breath. His lips burned from the kiss that never happened. Everything was so fucking complicated. Except one thing. It was the only clear thought in his head. The one that made his stomach clench from fear, his heart stutter from hope, and his lips stretch in a smile. He was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Derek.

Falling For You by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) | @isthatbloodonhisshirt (2024•T•37.2K)

Derek nodded once, reaching for it, all while reminding himself over and over again in his head to thank him with the pun. This was it, this was the moment for him. Stiles would realize he’d understood the pun from yesterday, and would laugh, and Derek would feel relieved, and everything would be great. His hand closed around the cup and he said, “Thanks for the latte.” Fuck. Fuck! Stiles looked startled, eyes dipping down to the drink Derek was now holding, and then back up. “Sorry, did you—I thought you wanted a coffee, did you want a latte?” “No.” Derek turned his back on him and walked away, resisting the urge to just head straight back to his car to drive off a cliff. Thanks a latte! The fucking pun was thanks a latte! Not thanks for the latte! Fuck! How had he messed it up so fucking badly?! It was three words! “That went well,” Boyd said, catching up with him. Derek just reached out to punch him hard in the arm without even looking.

Band Aids and Bouquets (I've known you your whole life) by thelostrocketeer | @ceruleancheckeredcars (2012•M•4.8K)

Derek is seven and his mother’s friend has just given birth. A (mostly) canon-compliant (canon also coming from the novel On Fire.) retelling of How Derek Met Stiles.

Drawn To You by mikatheseer | @mikatheseer (2024•M•80.1K) [Complete except for a possible epilogue]

Derek heads to a (nearly deserted) beach resort in desperate search of an anchor. There he meets Stiles, an artist and writer seeking inspiration for his next graphic novel. A Teen Wolf AU set 10 years after the fire, in which Derek and Laura Hale never returned to Beacon Hills.

[howlingday]

An Offer

Clover: (Walks in) ...You Jauney?

Jaune: Jaune Arc.

Clover: Specialist Ebi. (Sits)

Jaune: ...You alone?

Clover: I'm not that lucky. The only other badge you'd see in here is the health inspector.

Waitress: What can I get ya?

Clover: Just a coffee, thanks.

Waitress: (Pours coffee, Leaves)

Clover: (Pulls out flask) Need a kick?

Jaune: No thanks.

Clover: (Pours into mug) Suit yourself. (Stows) So... You said on the phone you might have a... proposition for me?

Jaune: That's right.

Clover: Well, if you're looking for another stoolie on your payroll, you called the wrong cop. I'm not looking for any... "new friends".

Jaune: Good, because I'm on the run. I can't even pay for the coffee. But I do have something to trade.

Clover: And that is...?

Jaune: ...How long have you been in town?

Clover: Three years. Got my start in Mantle.

Jaune: And they gave you the Branwen case, right out the gate?

Clover: Like I said, I'm not that lucky. And what's it to you if I am?

Jaune: Well, it's a tough case, right? It's probably getting cold by now...

Clover: And you got somethin' to warm it up?

Jaune: Yeah. I got somethin'.

Clover: And what's my end of the deal? Lien? Some kinda immunity?

Jaune: None of that. I have people I need to protect.

Clover: Ah... Family man. Weak point of just about every man, even the crooked ones. So, who you got? Dying mother? Wife and kids-

Jaune: A wife and a daughter.

Clover: And no one else to watch your back, right?

Jaune: I wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case.

Clover: Sorry to hear that. Someone once told me you need friends to survive in this world.

Jaune: Mhm, but in my world, it's the other way around. (Sips coffee)

Clover: Not surprising.

Jaune: ...

Clover: Look, I can't promise you anything for your family. Not until I hear what you're trading. So, are you gonna start talking, or are you just killing time before they come for you?

Jaune: I can-

Clover: No, you can't. Oum's sake, look at you. You've got bags under the bags under your eyes. Twitchin' like you've had more than just this cup here. Your neck's probably sore from all that turnin' you've gotta keep doin'. No, the way I see it, you've got someone REAL powerful on your ass, and they're not givin' up 'til you're bobbin' in the river. Now, if you want to walk out that door without me, be my guest. I'm willing to bet you don't make it five steps before you're someone else's case.

Jaune: ...

Clover: BUT... you stick around, tell me your story, and maybe you've got a shot at seeing your little girl walk down the aisle from her arm, rather than from the clouds. (Sighs) Either way, I'm buying you coffee.

Jaune: ...Fuck, I don't know how it all got so cocked up...

Clover: No one ever sees the trap until they're standin' in it. But you didn't get handed a weapon while you were still in diapers, were ya?

Jaune: ...No. I was a cab driver when I met them...

Jaune: I mostly drove nights 'cause the money was better. I was at the end of my shift when I first met Yang and Qrow...

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

Yang/Qrow: (In screeching car) SHIT!

Jaune: (Checks tire pressure)

Qrow: Son of a bitch!

Yang: LOOK OUT!

Yang/Qrow: (Crash)

Jaune: Huh? (Looks over)

Yang: (Runs over, Turns) C'mon, Qrow! There's a taxi here! We're gonna be okay!

Jaune: (Backs away)

Yang: (Pulls out gun) HEYHEYHEY! Get in the car! NOW!

Jaune: (Gets in)

Yang: (Gets in)

Jaune: Uh, where to?

Qrow: (Gets in) Anywhere. FAST!

Jaune: (Drives)

Yang: I've got a gun pointed at the back of your head! They catch us, we're dead, but that doesn't mean you get to walk away!

Jaune: I-I don't want any trouble!

Qrow: Well, you've got it. Now drive!

Yang: How the hell'd they know we'd be there?

Qrow: Doesn't matter now! We just need to lose 'em! How many cars are following us?

Yang: Just one, but there'll be more.

Jaune: (Getting shot at) Hang on! I'm gonna try something! (Swerves, Escapes)

Yang: HOLY SHIT!

Jaune: Who were those guys?

Yang: Hey, you don't get to ask questions! We need to get across the bridge. Take this right over here.

Jaune: O-Okay...

Yang: Ngh...

Qrow: Your arm okay?

Yang: Hurts like hell. (Winces)

Qrow: When we get back, I'll wake up doc.

Yang: Uh, I dunno... Maybe it'll be okay?

Qrow: Callin' him anyways. And hey, I see you listening, cab driver. You don't get to listen, either!

Jaune: I'm just taking you guys to where you wanna go.

Qrow: Then do that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaune: There's more of 'em!

Yang: SHIT!

Jaune: (Rams through blockade) Don't worry, I know a couple shortcuts that'll slow 'em down!

Qrow: I don't care how you do it! JUST DO IT!

Jaune: (Swerves through construction, Causes one to crash)

Yang: That's your shortcut?!

Jaune: I lost 'im, didn't I?

Qrow: Not all of 'em!

Jaune: Man, these guys really don't like you, do they?

Yang: Sometimes business partners fall out. It happens.

Qrow: Shut up, Yang! The more he knows, the more likely he doesn't live to see the sunrise.

Jaune: I didn't hear anything, guys.

Yang: I count three cars down- How many were at the exchange?

Qrow: Uh, four? Five? Knowing her, she's probably called double that by now.

Yang: Definitely feels like it. Knew we should've taken more muscle.

Qrow: Trust me, when SHE hears about this, there'll be hell to pay!

Yang: They just keep coming!

Qrow: We're not safe until we're back on our own turf. Let's get back home!

Jaune: (Speeding up)

Yang: Uh... The bridge is up, dude...

Jaune: Yup. We can make it.

Qrow: What the hell are you doing?!

Yang: Just hang tight and pray!

Jaune: (Jumps the bridge, Lands safely)

Qrow: ...Never flew like that before.

Yang: Me neither...

Qrow: Alright, take us to Little Patch. Now. Your night's not over.

Yang: I didn't see this comin'. You think someone squealed?

Qrow: What I think is you should shut up. We'll talk about it when we get to the bar.

Yang: ...Okay, we're close. Pull over in front of that bar.

Jaune: The Crow Bar?

Qrow: That's the one.

Jaune: (Pulls over)

Qrow: Wait here.

Jaune: Why?

Qrow: ...You wanna get what you earned, right?

Yang: (Gets out)

Qrow: (Carries her inside)

Jaune: (Gulps, Shivers)

Qrow: (Walks out, Reaches into coat)

Jaune: (Holds breath)

Qrow: (Pulls out envelope) This should cover it. Gas, transport, and even the damages. With this, we're even.

Jaune: (Takes the envelope) I... think it's more than enough.

Qrow: Good. Miss Branwen wants you to know she's grateful for what you've done. If you ever need anything- lien for a loan or even a good job, don't hesitate to ask. The Miss doesn't forget her friends.

Jaune: Okay, thanks.

Qrow: ...And one other thing. What happened tonight stays here on this street tonight. Anyone asks where you got the lien, say you won it in a card game. The scratches on your cab? You got 'em from swervin' to save a kitty-cat's life. Got it?

Jaune: Of course.

Qrow: (Nods) See ya 'round, kid. (Leaves)

Jaune: (Inhales, Drives away)

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Jaune: Fix the cab... Yeah, right. When I opened the envelope, I could've died right there. I almost had enough to buy a new one! I thought about what Qrow said about work. I wasn't interested. Sure, the money was good, but I didn't want to get in with criminals. Better to be poor and alive than rich and dead.

Jaune: So right there, back then, I was out.

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Jaune: (Drinking coffee)

SMASH!

Jaune: SHIT! What the- (Grabbed)

Melanie: Remember me? (Tosses him) Yeah? (Kicks)

Miltia: (Smashes up cab)

Melanie: Lil' Miss isn't too happy. Maybe you shouldn't go around helping Branwen's little birds, right? (Bends down) Now I have to beat up your pretty, little face, just so you don't forget who owns this city.

Jaune: (Gets up)

Melanie: You won't be walking much for a-

Jaune: (Shoves her into Miltia, Flees)

Melanie: (Giggles) Oh, I love it when they make it fun... LET'S GET HIM.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yang: ...Hey, check it out.

Jaune: (Sprinting across the street)

Melanie/Miltia: (Chasing after him)

Qrow: Hm... Jaune. Long time, no see.

Jaune: (Runs past him, Panting behind)

Yang: (Walks inside)

Melanie/Miltia: (Run up to them)

Qrow: Melanie, Miltiades. You got business with The Miss?

Melanie: No, we don't. We just need to talk to that cab boy behind you. That's all.

Qrow: Yeah? Well, this is The Miss's favorite driver. So, anything you gotta say to him, you can say to me.

Melanie: Is that so? Well, let me tell you something then. We're not leaving here empty-handed.

Yang: (Walks out) Then I guess you ain't leavin' at all~! (Levels shotgun)

Melanie: ...Fine. See you around. Let's go, Miltia.

Melanie/Miltia: (Leave)

Yang: (Cackling)

Jaune: Thanks...

Qrow: Least we could do.

Yang: C'mon~! Let's go say to The Miss~!

Jaune: Miss Branwen?

Qrow: Yeah. She's gonna wanna hear about this.

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

Raven: (Walks in, Sees Jaune)

Jaune: (Gulps)

Raven: (Gestures to seats, Sits down) What's your name, son?

Jaune: Jaune. Jaune Arc, ma'am.

Raven: Qrow said you ran into some trouble?

Jaune: Yes, ma'am. They smashed up my cab really good.

Yang: Malachite's girls went after him, since Jaune helped us-

Raven: (Holds up hand) And your... taxi. This is how you make your lien?

Jaune: Yes, ma'am.

Raven: ...A part of me feels responsible for what happened to you, so I'll set you up with a loan. Just enough to get your cab fixed.

Jaune: I appreciate, ma'am, but I can't accept lien without working for it.

Raven: ...Then why are we here?

Jaune: I want a shot at those bitches who wrecked my cab.

Raven: Heh... You hear that, Qrow? The boy needs my permission to get into a fight.

Qrow: Uh-huh. That's what I heard.

Raven: ...Very well, Jaune Arc. All of Malachite's miscreants hang out at a bar she owns. Yang, you know the one.

Yang: Sure do, boss.

Raven: Good. You can ride with Jaune then. There's a place right next to the bar where they park their cars. Give 'em a make-over. Send Malachite a message. She can't rough up good, honest working-class folks in MY turf without getting a black eye!

Jaune: Thank you, Miss Branwen. I won't let you down.

Raven: (Nods) ...And Jaune, when you get back, I want to have a discussion about what's next for you.

[littlebugs]

Can I request for Kylo Ren in which the returns with him from a failed mission? She made a mistake and maybe Kylo made it clear to her that he was very upset about it during an argument afterwards. She tries to make up for it by doing a mission on her own, only on this one she gets badly hurt and is brought back by Hux after finding her severely wounded/injured. When Kylo learns of it, he flips out thinking she wasn’t going to make it alive, but in the end, she survives and makes a full recovery. Something short and sweet in the end between them as he takes care of her during the healing process. Thanks! ❤️

(I hope this is okay! If not, feel free to ignore it!)

i love you

warnings: injury, very angsty (fluff ending), fem presenting reader (she/her pronouns), mild language, written at 1am so not the best proofreading, toxic kylo in the beginning 😓 a/n: thanks so much for the request love! i got carried away writing this lol, sorry if its a lil long!

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

"Shit," you cursed as you sprawled over the couch in yours and Kylo's living room. You'd messed up today. It was tiny, minuscule, just a little mistake. You hoped it wouldn't matter to Kylo. But you knew better.

The large door, black, matching most of the Commander's gloomy interior, swung open. And slammed shut. You nearly fell off the couch, already exhausted from the days work. "Hey Ky..." you trailed off. He looked absolutely terrifying. Blood on the toes of his boots. Holes ripped through his outfit. But the worst of all, his face. He looked- angry. Disappointed. Annoyed. Maybe even..disgusted?

"Shut up," He threatened, walking up to you. His arms crossed, feet spread apart, you knew you were in for it. From your spot now on the floor, huddled in a ball, you felt defenseless. "You messed up today," he scolded. "This was a covert operation. We had one shot at this, and you blew it." His voice was a low, seething growl.

"I'm sorry I had a- momentary.. lapse in judgment?" You didn't know what to say. This wasn't supposed to be a big deal. It was a tiny mess up. You forgot to disable a single security camera. Just one. It wouldn't matter anyhow, as the saber marks lining the walls of the Rebel base being hijacked was a sign as to who the attacker was.

"Sorry isn't going to fix this. We're on the brink of a war, and this mission was crucial. The Supreme Leader trusted us, and now, because of your mistake, we might have just handed our enemies a victory," he nearly shouted.

Kylo's voice rose as he continued, but it was as if you were underwater, the sounds muffled and distorted. Your eyes filled with tears, blurring your vision. You couldn't let him see you like this. "I-I'm sorry," you mumbled, as you got up from the ground and staggered to the door.

You scarcely cried. There were many things the two of you never did, which maybe you should have done. It wasn't a conventional relationship. You'd only cried in front of him once, years ago. He had left you, crumpled on the floor, unable to deal with the sudden emotion. He never told you he loved you. Not even once. You shared a ship, meals, even a bed with him, and even in your most intimate moments, he just... didn't seem to feel anything. At least on the exterior. You hoped.

"Leave me." you stammered, nose already running. "Did you think I was going to follow you? Pathetic. Absolutely worthless. Do you think I even care-" He stopped, dead in his tracks, after catching sight of your face, glimmering in tears. "M'sorry" you mumbled, and quietly closed the door behind you.

Breathing in the cool air of The Supremacy, you quickly wiped your face before any troopers nearby could catch sight. Word traveled fast, and although it was a big ship, news could be spread in mere hours. You remembered the first time you had to deal with the gossip, it had been your first one night stand with Kylo, before any relationship. You left in the dead of night, but one lucky Stormtrooper caught you on the security camera. The next day, half the the Supremacy was staring you down, and the other half was triumphantly giving you high fives (Knights of Ren included.)

Life seemed...simpler. Now you were plastered on the wall to Kylo's rooms, breathing in slightly sterile air as you tried to get your wits about you. It being 11pm already, you decided to make way to your old room. Walking down the hallway, you encountered little confrontation. That was the good part of being in relation to Kylo. Then there was the name calling, the teasing the "Commanders whore" whispered behind your back. It all made you want to cry again, and you were grateful to near your room.

As you unlocked the door, your old life greeted you. There wasn't much left really, as you had inhabited Kylo's space for the past months. You had thought maybe...maybe he was changing- that he would one day tell you how he felt? Yeah right, you thought, as you walked in, flopped down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Looking around you, a chair sat to your left, with a window showing the view of a million stars outside. A bathroom and dresser to your right, emptied of all your items. Not that you had any in the first place, but Kylo had spoiled you as of recent.

You couldn't stop thinking about him. His face when he saw your tears. The way he had yelled at you nonstop. The fact that he didn't seems to care.

In the dimly lit room, shadows danced across the walls like haunting specters. Suddenly feeling cold, you huddled beneath the covers of your bed. The air was thick with silence, now broken only by the muffled sobs that racked your body. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, the fabric twisted and knotted in fists of despair. With each passing moment, the tears fall harder, faster, until you couldn't breath. You gasped, shuddered, and with a pounding headache, went to sleep, soiled clothes and all.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylo stood near your door, listening to your sobs feeling...terrible. He hated hearing you cry. It filled him with disgust not in you, but now in himself. For making you feel this way. And through the Force, he heard your thoughts, the desperate calls to be openly loved that Kylo had so valiantly ignored. He thought to wake you, but instead headed back to his quarters.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

The next morning, at 6 am sharp, you woke up with solid determination. You were going to show him you weren't pathetic, worthless...disgusting. You were always soft, especially in comparison to him, but you weren't pathetic. Or at least you hoped so.

As you headed to the mirror, you jumped at your reflection. That wouldn't do. You would also have to make it work with the meager amount of supplies at hand, but you could do it. After opting a shower to the refresher, so you could use scented soaps and lotions, you blow dried you hair, and styled it to the best of your ability. "Not too bad," You thought to yourself as you brushed on mascara and lip balm. "Nothing crazy" you told yourself, but betrayed your thoughts as you opted for a smaller sized uniform.

Exiting your room, you felt misery and despair inside of you, but at least you looked like you had it together. Making your way down to the control center of the Supremacy took quite a while, it being a literal Mega Class Dreadnought ship, but it gave you time to think. Think of what you were going to say to him. You could apologize. You could pretend nothing happened. You could act all mushy and touchy. Or just ignore him completely.

You decided to just fuck it and ball. Walking into the room, the control center hummed with the usual tension that permeated the First Order's headquarters. The air was thick with the weight of strategic discussions and the ever-present rivalry among its officers.

Then you saw him. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as he moved, his presence commanding attention. You had always been drawn to the enigmatic power he exuded, and despite the fight, that magnetic pull remained intact. You were immediately waved over by General Hux, and as you walked over to a control table in the very front of the room, getting closer, you regretted your decision. The mask, the robes...everything about him was just huge. Intimidating. Compared to your scantily dressed body, he looked like he could envelope you whole. Maybe you wanted him to.

Deciding to play with him a little, you boldly stood next to Hux, leaning over to look at the schematics on the table so Kylo had direct view of you. Though the mask concealed his emotions, you could sense the internal turmoil beneath it. He was distracted, and you knew why.

Hux sighed and rolled his eyes, in classic fashion. He was never one for your machinations, but continued explaining the mission at hand, obviously annoyed. You didn't bother listen, opting to shift around in a way that made Kylo's fists clench.

At what seemed like the end of the brief, Hux tiredly asked "So we'll need an Admiral or Commander to volunteer for this mission. As I know both of you do not care in the least so I will just-" You cut him off. "I'll do it." Both Kylo and Hux turned towards you, silent. "But you never do anything-" The General retorted. You roll your eyes. "Shut up Hux. I'm going." The redhead sputtered. "But-you... -You don't even care! Ever!" "Ok well, I'm a Commander, and I'm going," You spat, not bothering to glance at Kylo, who hadn't moved an inch in the last minute. You stormed away, but not before hearing Hux call "Don't screw this up Commander," and scoffing.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

It wasn't going well. You had overpowered the Rebel base, which was somewhat pitiful, but managed to get a blaster wound to the side which was currently steaming in a way that did not look safe. Most of your troops had made it through, save the couple of troopers who'd been shot here and there. The masks made it harder to remember they were human, people on the inside. Limping back to your ship, you woozily asked Hux to make someone check the surrounding areas for stragglers as you slumped into the seat, adrenaline still preventing you from feeling the full pain of your wound.

Setting the TIE on autopilot, slowly coming back to reality, you looked down to the left of your torso. You had almost dodged the blast, the wound cauterized by the superheated plasma, leaving a sizzling, blackened mark on your flesh. Smoke rose from the wound, carrying with it the acrid scent of burnt fabric and singed skin. The pain intensified with each passing second, as if a red-hot poker has been driven into your side.

You clenched your teeth, trying to stifle a scream, as you grasped at the wound. Your fingers came away slick with your own blood, which oozed from the wound and trickled down your side. The ride was short. Only 30 minutes at full speed. You could probably..maybe hold on. You busied yourself coating the wound with Bacta spray, which took most the time, considering the fact that every movement made your side burn and sting like never before.

After successfully applying the antiseptic, you started to see the giant that was the Supremacy. It slowly appeared as a behemoth of steel and darkness, adorned with the stark, angular design characteristic of First Order aesthetics you had come to be so familiar with. You were on course, but you'd have to manually land the plane. "Oh for Kriffs sake" you muttered to yourself, trying to figure out how you were even alive.

You painstakingly moved your right arm to the control panel, and started the descent, aiming for one of the many hangars. It seemed to take forever, but with a final, skillful maneuver, you brought the ship to a shaky landing on the hangar deck. The ship's landing struts had absorbed the impact, but the screech of metal against metal reverberated through the hangar.

You all but fell out of the fighter, letting out a strained "I'm aight-" before collapsing into the arms of medical personnel, whom immediately transported you to the medical wing.

Not known to you, the second of your arrival, Kylo was storming down the hall, looking menacing as ever. Although he looked same as ever, on the inside, his emotions swirled inside of him. He was freaking out. He powered through the med bay, drawing terrified looks from doctors and patients alike, not stopping until he found your room.

He ripped the door open, all calm was lost. "Is she alright?" He boomed, modified voice scaring the living daylights out of the doctors and nurses surrounding you. "S-Sir, erm-Commander we think she'll most likely survive with minor s-setback" A doctor answers, inspecting the wound as to not have to face Ren.

He sat down on a chair, further terrifying the staff with his presence. "She'd better," Kylo fumed, prepared to annihilate the staff over anything. He didn't know what made him feel like this, but he was prepared to wait days for you to awake. And wait he did.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

It was early morning. You had just woken up, not in the Med Bay, but... in his room. He was already awake, looking at you with those deep brown eyes. You looked around, surveying the surroundings. You were wearing his sleep clothes, all too big on you, hair smelling freshly washed. You had an IV hooked up to your arm, and the stiff bandage across your torso chafed against delicate skin.

"I'm sorry" He uttered, quietly. "I said those things, and I... shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I don't- feel like that about you. I think you're.." He trailed off. He'd never said sorry before. You didn't know how to react.

Looking at him, caring for you in your injury made you frown. "Why do you- why do you care?"

"Here, lay down. Have some soup." He nudged you gently, positioning pillows behind your head. You were so shocked, you almost forgot your previous question. "Wait, but why are you doing this?" You whisper, voice hoarse.

"Because I love you"