#then we have to install the kitchen
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i've spent the weekend cleaning floors and and painting walls and we're not done yet i'm tiiiiiired
#next week people come over to install the hard wood floors so we won't be able to do anything#but then the next week we have to finish painting everything install the drywall ceiling in the kitchen and ?????#then we have to install the kitchen#and then ???? i can't remember#packing everything in the first house and bringing it to the new one
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kinda disappointed with how this weekend went. I mean, it wasn't bad! but it was our first weekend in the new apartment, and I/we wanted to get a lot done. I already did a lot during the week (a lot for me, not a lot for most people I guess), but there's lots of things that I can't do/can't do on my own, either because I'm too short or not strong enough or I need someone else to hold something or whatever. which realistically just won't get done during the week because my husband works full time, so. it sort of sucks that only one very small, unimportant thing got done. 😔
#like. there's no rush. not really.#I mean we do get our kitchen in two weeks so we'll have to have space to install it then lol#but other than that it's fine#except everyone constantly makes me feel like it isn't.#they're so judgmental and shitty about it#yeah it's chaotic and messy as hell. there's boxes everywhere. we've only found some of our kitchen stuff so we're mostly eating microwave#meals with plastic utensils. all of that stuff#so fucking what? it doesn't affect any of them! I wish they'd just stop commenting on it but they don't.#well. at least it's just over the phone now. I haven't seen my or my husband's family since we moved in and I'm not planning to anytime soon#precisely because they will not stop doing this no matter how I react to it#like in what world would that ever do anything good? it doesn't motivate me to get shit done any faster. because guess what? I'm already#going as fast as I can.#like. I've had (maybe still have) a middle ear infection and been on antibiotics all week and I still got so much done! that's good enough#and this part is fun to me! I like that nothing is finished and everything is possible and new and different#it does also stress me out but so far it mostly feels like an adventure#anyway. I'm just venting but seriously why is everyone I know irl so mean all the time?!#personal
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I feel like a greedy asshole saying this but I hate sharing work with other interns I wish you would just go away I want the advisor and the project all to myself
#and because of work and the distance I have to travel for this (work and the internship are both an hour from my house in opposite direction#*s)#there are very few days I can come in for the internship so I always get like last dibs on getting to do shit#like personally I have nothing against this other girl but also. I hate her#I know it’s stupid and bitchy and irrational but I just. hate sharing projects I need to do everything myself#like I know I shouldn’t resent her but I do#.txt#like I just got word that we have equipment that’s ready to be installed#and I don’t want to miss installing it#but I have work 9-5 tomorrow + an hour driving each way#AND the same on Friday#+ another hour at least to drive to the intern place#but I don’t have to go to work on Saturday until evening#so Friday would be the best for me#but of COURSE this chick can only do it Thursday#sorry. screw you#I hate being so petty about this but like move the fuck over#also it’s like cooking with someone else in the kitchen like get the fuck OUT#Like I want to hog all the work to myself. Would it have killed you to not be available Thursday
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so tired of not having money
#it's been worse ever since i turned 30 bc i get 3000 sek less every month now#and soon our rent is going up like 1500 sek bc of renovation stuff#which is not something we have a choice in btw#bc they had to change the pipes and electricity in all the buildings and will install new bathrooms and kitchens#and that apparently means the tiny apartment i live in is suddenly 40% more expensive to rent#anyway im just trying to not kms bc of stress#ik the 75 kr commissions wont do much but it helps w getting some kind of food on the table for a couple of days#txt
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my family is fucking addicted to macgyvering and it's becoming a problem. every time something in this house breaks, instead of doing the sensible thing of replacing it or calling someone qualified to fix it, we all group around the offending object with a manic look in our eyes and everyone gets a try at fixing it while being cheered on or ridiculed by the rest.
it's a beautiful bonding activity, but the "creative" fixes have turned our house into a quasihaunted escape room like contraption where everything works, but only in the wonkiest of ways. you need a huge block of iron to turn on the stove. the oven only works if a specific clock is plugged in. the bread machine has a huge wood block just stapled to it that has become foundational to its function. sometimes when you use the toaster the doorbell rings. and that's just the kitchen.
it's all fun and games until you have guests over and you have to lay out the rules of the house like it's a fucking board game. welcome to the beautiful guest room. don't pull out the couch yourself you need a screwdriver for that, and that metal rod makes the lamp work so don't move it. it also made me a terrifying roommate in college, because it makes me think i can fix anything with enough hubris and a drill. you want to call the landlord about a leaky faucet? as if. one time my dad made me install a new power socket because we ran our of extension cords
#this post was inspired by me using a screwdriver to take the broiler off the wall because the warm water stopped working#while my dad went well there is only cables in there. who are we if we dont find our ways around some cables#damn right!!!!
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Instant Hot Water with recirculation pump option.
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#Instant Hot Water with recirculation pump option.#Upgrade Your Home Comfort with a Bradford White Water Heater Installation by Emergency Plumbing – Featuring Recirculation Pump Technology!#Are you tired of waiting for hot water in your shower or kitchen sink? Emergency Plumbing has the perfect solution to elevate your home's h#and recirculation pump technology. Our expert team is ready to bring you an unmatched level of comfort and efficiency.#Bradford White is synonymous with quality and reliability in the water heating industry#and when combined with a recirculation pump#the benefits multiply.#Here's why you should choose us for your Bradford White water heater and recirculation pump installation:#- Professional Expertise: Our licensed plumbers have extensive experience with Bradford White products and the latest recirculation pump te#adhering to all local codes and regulations.#- Custom Solutions: Every home is unique#and so are your hot water needs. We provide personalized consultations to determine the best setup for your specific requirements.#- Peace of Mind: With Emergency Plumbing#you get the assurance of quality workmanship and products#backed by our commitment to your satisfaction.#Choose Emergency Plumbing for Your Installation.#At Emergency Plumbing#we're not just experts in emergency repairs – we're your go-to specialists for upgrading your home's comfort and efficiency.#Phone#224-754-1984
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Kutchina Chimney Reviwes
Kutchina Chimney: Transforming Kitchen Spaces with Innovation and Efficiency
In the modern kitchen, where culinary creations come to life and family gatherings find warmth, the importance of an efficient kitchen chimney cannot be overstated. Among the leading names in kitchen appliances, Kutchina stands tall, known for its innovative and technologically advanced chimneys designed to revolutionize cooking spaces.
1. Kutchina: A Trusted Household Name
A brief introduction to Kutchina as a reputable and established brand in the kitchen appliance industry.
Highlight the brand's commitment to quality, innovation, and customer satisfaction.
2. Understanding the Need for Kitchen Ventilation
Explanation of the challenges faced in the kitchen environment, such as smoke, odors, and grease, and their impact on indoor air quality.
Importance of proper ventilation in ensuring a clean, healthy, and comfortable kitchen atmosphere.
3. Kutchina Chimneys: Pioneering Technology and Design
Overview of the diverse Kutchina chimney models available, catering to various kitchen layouts and styles.
Introduction to cutting-edge features, such as powerful suction capabilities, multiple filter options (baffle filters, cassette filters, charcoal filters), energy-efficient motors, and intuitive control panels.
4. Advantages of Choosing Kutchina Chimneys
Improved indoor air quality: Highlight how Kutchina chimneys eliminate smoke, odors, and harmful gases, ensuring a fresh and breathable kitchen environment.
Easy maintenance and cleaning: Emphasize the user-friendly design of Kutchina chimneys, making them easy to clean and maintain for optimal performance.
Enhanced kitchen aesthetics: Discuss how Kutchina chimneys add a touch of elegance to kitchens, complementing various interior styles.
5. Customer Satisfaction and Testimonials
Showcase positive testimonials and feedback from satisfied Kutchina customers, highlighting their experiences with the brand's chimneys.
Discuss any awards or accolades received by Kutchina for its innovative and reliable chimney solutions.
6. Conclusion: Elevating Kitchen Experiences with Kutchina
Summarize the key points about Kutchina chimneys, emphasizing their role in transforming ordinary kitchens into efficient, clean, and inviting spaces.
Kutchina chimney options to enhance their kitchen experiences.
Kutchina chimneys are renowned for their innovation among homeowners. Here are some of the key features of Kutchina chimneys:
1. Powerful Suction Capacity:
Kutchina chimneys come with powerful motors that offer high suction capacity, effectively removing smoke, odors, and grease from the kitchen.
2. Advanced Filter Options:
Kutchina chimneys are equipped with various types of filters, including baffle filters, cassette filters, and charcoal filters. These filters efficiently trap grease, oil particles, and odors, ensuring clean and fresh air circulation in the kitchen.
3. Energy-Efficient Operation:
Kutchina chimneys are designed to be energy-efficient, consuming minimal electricity while delivering optimal performance. This feature not only saves energy but also reduces electricity bills.
4. Low Noise Levels:
Kutchina chimneys operate quietly, minimizing noise pollution in the kitchen. Ensures a peaceful cooking environment without disturbances from the chimney's operation.
5. Touch Control Panel:
Many Kutchina chimneys feature touch control panels that offer ease of operation. These intuitive panels allow users to control various functions, such as fan speed, lighting, and timer settings, with a simple touch.
6. LED Lighting:
Kutchina chimneys are equipped with bright and energy-efficient LED lights that illuminate the cooking area. These lights enhance visibility, making cooking easier while adding a stylish element to the kitchen.
7. Auto-Clean Technology:
Some Kutchina chimneys come with auto-clean technology, which automatically cleans the filters and removes accumulated grease. This feature ensures hassle-free maintenance and prolongs the chimney's lifespan.
8. Heat Auto-Clean Function:
Kutchina chimneys with heat auto-clean function use heat to dissolve sticky and oily particles, keeping the filters clean and enhancing the chimney's efficiency.
9. Ductless Operation:
Certain Kutchina chimneys can operate ductless, using recirculation technology to purify the air. This flexibility allows installation in kitchens where ductwork is not possible.
10. Sleek and Stylish Design:
Kutchina Chimneys are known for their kitchen decor. The stylish appearance enhances the overall aesthetics of the cooking space.
11. Timer Function:
Some Kutchina chimneys have a timer function, allowing users to set the operating time. This feature is useful for automatic shutdown after a specific duration, ensuring energy efficiency and convenience.
These features collectively make Kutchina chimneys a popular choice for homeowners, providing efficient and convenient solutions for kitchen ventilation.
Using Kutchina chimneys in your kitchen can offer many benefits, creating a healthier, cleaner, and more comfortable cooking environment. Here are the key advantages of using Kutchina chimneys:
1. Improved Indoor Air Quality:
Kutchina chimneys effectively remove smoke, grease particles, and cooking odors from the air. Helps maintain high indoor air quality, ensuring a healthier atmosphere for you and your family.
2. Removal of Harmful Gases:
Cooking processes can release harmful gases such as carbon monoxide. Kutchina chimneys help eliminate these gases, safeguarding the health of your family members.
3. Prevention of Grease Buildup:
Chimneys prevent grease particles from settling on kitchen surfaces, including walls, cabinets, and appliances. Reduces the effort needed for cleaning and maintenance in the kitchen.
4. Enhanced Kitchen Hygiene:
By capturing grease and other pollutants, Kutchina chimneys maintain a hygienic kitchen environment. A cleaner kitchen promotes better food preparation practices and overall hygiene.
5. Odor Control:
Cooking odors can be overwhelming and can spread throughout your home. Kutchina chimneys efficiently remove odors, ensuring your kitchen and home remain fresh and pleasant-smelling.
6. Protects Kitchen Decor:
Grease and smoke can tarnish kitchen interiors over time. Kutchina chimneys protect your kitchen decor and prevent discoloration, helping to maintain the aesthetic appeal of your cooking space.
7. Energy Efficiency:
Kutchina chimneys are designed to be energy-efficient, consuming minimal electricity while providing optimal performance. This energy efficiency contributes to reduced electricity bills.
8. Peaceful Cooking Environment:
Kutchina chimneys operate quietly, minimizing noise in the kitchen. Creates a peaceful cooking environment, allowing you to focus on your culinary creations without disturbances.
9. Extended Appliance Lifespan:
By preventing the buildup of grease and grime on kitchen appliances, Kutchina chimneys contribute to the extended lifespan and improved performance of your cooking appliances.
10. Adds Elegance to Your Kitchen:
Kutchina chimneys come in stylish designs. They not only serve a functional purpose but also enhance the visual appeal of your cooking space.
In summary, Kutchina chimneys offer a range of benefits, from ensuring clean air and hygiene to enhancing the overall cooking experience and aesthetics of your kitchen. Investing in a Kutchina chimney can significantly improve your kitchen environment and overall quality of life.
Installation of Kutchina Chimneys
A professional technician installed your Kutchina chimney, including correct positioning, secure mounting, and appropriate ductwork if required.
Choosing the Right Location: Select a suitable location for the chimney, preferably above the cooktop or stove. Ensure no obstructions and enough space for the chimney to capture smoke and odors effectively.
Ductwork Installation: If your Kutchina chimney requires ductwork, ensure it is installed properly. The ducts should be straight and short with minimal bends to allow efficient airflow.
Electrical Connection: Ensure the chimney is correctly connected to the power supply. Follow the manufacturer's guidelines and safety instructions while connecting the electrical components.
Maintenance of Kutchina Chimneys:
Regular Cleaning: Clean the chimney filters and surface debris. Follow the user manual for specific cleaning instructions. Some Kutchina chimneys come with auto-clean features that make maintenance easier.
Filter Replacement: If your chimney uses filters (such as baffle filters or charcoal filters), replace them as recommended by the manufacturer. Clean filters ensure optimal performance.
Check for Damages
Inspect the chimney for any damages or signs of wear and tear.
Pay attention to the motor, fan, and lights.
Grease Tray Maintenance: If your chimney has a grease collection tray, clean it regularly to prevent overflow and ensure efficient functioning.
Maintaining Ventilation: Ensure that the ventilation ducts are clear and free from blockages. Regularly inspect the external vent to prevent birds or debris from clogging the opening.
Professional Servicing: Consider scheduling professional servicing of your Kutchina chimney at least once a year. Experienced technicians can conduct a thorough inspection, clean internal components, and make necessary adjustments for optimal performance.
Avoiding DIY Repairs: If you encounter issues with your chimney, avoid attempting major repairs yourself. Contact the manufacturer's customer service or a certified technician to assess and fix the problem safely.
By following these installation and maintenance guidelines, you can ensure that your Kutchina chimney operates efficiently, providing clean and fresh air in your kitchen for years.
Customer Reviews and Testimonials
Performance and satisfaction levels of Kutchina Chimneys. Here are some potential testimonials and reviews based on customers' experiences
1. Satisfied Customer Experience
"I am extremely satisfied with my Kutchina chimney! The powerful suction, quiet operation, and easy maintenance have made my cooking experience so much better. The installation was smooth, and the chimney looks great in my kitchen!" - Sarah M.
2. Impressed with Efficiency
"I purchased a Kutchina chimney a few months ago, and I am impressed with its efficiency. It quickly removes all the smoke and odors from my kitchen, leaving the air clean and fresh. The auto-clean feature is a game-changer – hassle-free maintenance at its best!" - David P.
3. Clean and Stylish Addition
"Not only does my Kutchina chimney keep my kitchen clean and odor-free, but it also adds a touch of elegance to the space. The LED lights are bright, and the touch control panel is very user-friendly. I highly recommend Kutchina Chimneys!" - Emily L.
4. Excellent Customer Service
"I had a fantastic experience with Kutchina's customer service team. They were responsive knowledgeable, and resolved my query promptly. It's not just the excellent product, but also the outstanding customer support that makes Kutchina stand out!" - Michael H.
5. Lifesaver for Open Kitchen Layouts
"We have an open kitchen layout, and our Kutchina chimney has been a lifesaver! It effectively removes all the cooking fumes and keeps our living area smoke-free. I can cook without worrying about the entire house smelling like food. Truly a great investment!" - Lisa C.
6. Value for Money
"I was initially hesitant about spending on a chimney, but Kutchina proved worth every penny. The quality, performance, and durability are exceptional. It's a long-term investment in my kitchen's cleanliness and my family's health." - Jason R.
7. Easy to Clean and Maintain
"I love how easy it is to clean my Kutchina chimney. The filters are simple to remove and wash. The auto-clean function works like a charm. It saves me time and effort, allowing me to focus on what I love – cooking!" - Amanda S.
These testimonials reflect the positive experiences of customers who have chosen Kutchina chimneys for their kitchens. Reading such reviews can help potential buyers make informed decisions, highlighting the satisfaction and benefits real users have gained from their Kutchina chimney purchases.
Conclusion: Elevating Your Kitchen Experience with Kutchina Chimneys
In the heart of every home, where culinary creations come to life and cherished moments are shared, a Kutchina chimney is a testament to innovation, efficiency, and elegance. As we conclude our exploration of Kutchina chimneys, it becomes evident that these appliances are more than just kitchen fixtures – they are transformative elements that elevate your cooking experience.
A Clean and Healthy Kitchen
Kutchina chimneys ensure your kitchen remains clean and free from smoke, grease, and odors. By eliminating harmful pollutants, these chimneys create a healthier environment for you and your family, safeguarding your well-being.
Efficiency in Action:
With powerful suction capabilities and advanced filtration systems, Kutchina chimneys remove impurities, leaving your kitchen air fresh and pure. The ease of use, quiet operation, and intuitive controls make cooking delightful and hassle-free.
Aesthetics and Elegance:
Beyond functionality, Kutchina chimneys add a touch of sophistication to your kitchen space. Their sleek designs, coupled with energy-efficient LED lighting, not only enhance visibility but also augment the overall aesthetics of your culinary haven.
Innovative Solutions, Lasting Satisfaction:
Whether it's the convenience of auto-clean technology, the variety of filter options, or the outstanding customer support, Kutchina Chimneys offers innovative solutions tailored to your needs. The longevity and durability of these appliances ensure lasting satisfaction, making them a valuable addition to your home.
In choosing a Kutchina chimney, you're not just investing in a kitchen appliance; you're investing in the comfort, health, and joy of your home. Embrace the future of cooking with Kutchina, and let your kitchen breathe with freshness, cleanliness, and style. Welcome to a new era of culinary excellence – the world of Kutchina chimneys.
#I am extremely satisfied with my Kutchina chimney! The powerful suction#quiet operation#and easy maintenance have made my cooking experience so much better. The installation was smooth#and the chimney looks great in my kitchen!#I purchased a Kutchina chimney a few months ago#and I am impressed with its efficiency. It quickly removes all the smoke and odors from my kitchen#leaving the air clean and fresh. The auto-clean feature is a game-changer – hassle-free maintenance at its best!#Not only does my Kutchina chimney keep my kitchen clean and odor-free#but it also adds a touch of elegance to the space. The LED lights are bright#and the touch control panel is very user-friendly. I highly recommend Kutchina Chimneys!#I had a fantastic experience with Kutchina's customer service team. They were responsive knowledgeable#and resolved my query promptly. It's not just the excellent product#but also the outstanding customer support that makes Kutchina stand out!#We have an open kitchen layout#and our Kutchina chimney has been a lifesaver! It effectively removes all the cooking fumes and keeps our living area smoke-free. I can coo#6. Value for Money#- Jason R.#7. Easy to Clean and Maintain#reviews#products#Kutchina Chimney: Transforming Kitchen Spaces with Innovation and Efficiency#In the modern kitchen#where culinary creations come to life and family gatherings find warmth#the importance of an efficient kitchen chimney cannot be overstated. Among the leading names in kitchen appliances#Kutchina stands tall#known for its innovative and technologically advanced chimneys designed to revolutionize cooking spaces.#1. Kutchina: A Trusted Household Name#A brief introduction to Kutchina as a reputable and established brand in the kitchen appliance industry.#Highlight the brand's commitment to quality#innovation
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Golden
Summary: A Sunday afternoon on your farm with Joel.
WC: 4K
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Soft, dorky Joel. We pretend Abby and Joel chatted it out. Joel and JJ moments. Breeding ( ? ) kink. Oral sex f! receiving. PinV. In da farm house we’re in love baby! Joel doing physical labor…yeah. Can imagine Pedro or game Joel. Reader can paint!
A/N: I just wanted to give a HUGE thank you for all the love, kind words and support on Magnetism! You all melt my heart. Thank you! I’m not so happy with the smut in this but whatever :,)
The Sade record crackles before your favorite song on the album begins drifting through the air. The birthday gift Joel gave you last year that made hot tears fall out of your eyes, just like him when you gave him a painting of Sarah and Ellie for his birthday that hangs in his woodworking space. Your birthday last year ended with 8 hours spent in the sheets, passed out by the end of it, Joel with a sore back for a week - yet claims it was worth it.
You look up at him right now, peering outside the large kitchen windows and spotting him pulling out carrots, in a tight shirt and his work jeans, arms flexing at the particularly stubborn ones. Banjo following along and sniffing inside Joel’s wicker basket filled with vegetables, his tail smacking into Joel’s side. Rosie and Posie bleating in the distance, their fuzzy woolen coats glowing in the sun, seeming to also take an interest in watching Joel work, just like you.
You hear Banjo’s excited barks before Joel closes the dog's mouth shut with his hand playfully, shaking Banjo’s head side to side lightly, riling him up. The sun starts to set behind them, past the fence surrounding your ranch, behind the tall Wyoming mountains. Orange, pink, and yellow, exploding in waves. The bees returning to their hives from the flower box in front of the kitchen windows.
You laugh when Banjo manages to knock Joel over lightly, the two tumbling onto the grass. Joel laughs too, holding the border collie back with his forearm as he tries to lick Joel’s face with all his might.
You smile to yourself as you get back to work, just as Sade starts singing about ‘his hands’ and ‘the way the mountains look’. Lost in the haze of measuring out ingredients, 2 and 3 quarter cups flour, a quarter cup of sugar. Feeling the weight of the ingredients slide into the bowl. Just as you see Joel slowly walk towards the chicken coup, Banjo waiting in the grass - knowing he’s not allowed there.
Milk and salt are next, and you drift over to the fridge to grab the milk, your long white skirt, embraced with abstract flowery patterns flows against your bare ankles as your toes feel the comforting wooden floors of your warm farm home that Joel made sure to install after you mindlessly talked about your love for warm wooden accents. Sat a 20-minute walk outside the walls of Jackson, a small distance away from Ellie’s farm, closer to the lush woods atop the hills.
As you settle back by the kitchen counter, lit up by warm - almost honey-colored rays of sunlight, you try to spot Joel amongst the chickens, but he seems to have vanished, Banjo too.
You glance around surprised for a moment, your eyes flitting from the coup to the vegetable patches, to the flower beds he planted for you, the fairy garden that he denies he took part in yet carved all of the little toadstool homes for you, and Ellie to paint, and even to Old Beardy grazing in the distance, yet Joel is nowhere to be found.
You even turn to the back door, yet there’s no sign of your man. How can a big teddy bear like him disappear in less than a minute?
You jump and let out an embarrassing squeak as a sudden flash of salt and pepper pops up right on the other side of the window pane. You clutch a hand over your chest as Joel’s face comes into view, his cheeky smile and scruffy beard. Utterly pleased with himself at his success in startling you.
You glare at him half-heartedly, trying to hide the smile that’s inching up your face.
He reaches into one of the large pockets in his jeans, and your attempt at hiding your smile fails when he pulls out a little yellow chick. He lifts it to your view, the little fluff ball wiggling and chirping, looking tiny in Joel’s large, dirty palms. His smile grows wider and tender as he sees you beam at the sight through the window.
He scratches the chick’s head with one of his fingers before walking back to reunite the yellow baby with its mama.
You laugh to yourself at his antics. At a grown, grizzly man, surprising you with a baby chicken. He’s a dork and doesn’t deny the allegations when they’re thrown his way.
Banjo runs circles around the vegetable garden just as the back door opens, closing softly with a click. Joel’s heavy footfall, accentuated by his boots, sounds behind you, getting softer as he heads to the guest bathroom. The house creaks and groans as the water turns on. You’re back to baking.
“Smells real good.”
He hums, his, now soft, footfall appearing once again as he approaches from behind you, burying his face in your neck and sniffling dramatically, you feel his wet beard and hair drip onto your neck, giving you goosies. He’s splashed his face and washed his hands, probably so he can distract you without your scolding.
“Me or the food, old man?” You ask with a smile, continuing to knead the dough.
“‘Mm, both.” He hums, rubbing his facial hair against your neck like a cat. You suspect he might start purring soon. It’s not unlike him, even though he ignores you when you tell him that he basically purrs while snuggling against your chest as you read whatever novel you two have picked aloud to him in the evenings.
“Cinnamon rolls, bread’s in the often.” You hum, tilting your head to the side so he can keep giving you his beard scratches. He starts nibbling too now. You sway your hips slightly to the music, and the way his hands fall to your hips tells you all you need to know.
“Cinnamon rolls.” He repeats amused, smiling against your skin, nibbling again to make you tut at him, grinning when you do.
“Ellie and Dina are comin’ over later.” You say as you grab the jar of cinnamon on the shelf, leaving Joel to step back and watch.
“They bringin’ JJ?” Joel asks, voice loosing his husky tiredness and instead replaced with a lighter sound.
“Yes baby, they’re bringing JJ.” You say with a soft smile, looking back at him only to find he’s disappeared once more. That man is silent as a mouse usually - a habit you suppose. Although, whenever he walks into the house, he does three stomps of his boots - just to make sure you know it’s him. He may have gone soft, but there are some things time will never strip away entirely. His knack for safety is one of them.
Just as you’re finished adding all the wet ingredients to your dry ones, you hear Joel in the living room lowering a box, a few things spilling out. An obnoxious squeak of a toy - you think it’s banjo’s plastic chicken that Joel hid away after the noise drove Joel so insane he accidentally beheaded a cowboy carving he was working on for a month. You catch Banjo’s head shoot up as if he got a sense that his long-lost soulmate is near. Joel hides the chicken away again quickly.
He’s brought out the small bundle of toys you two own - JJ’s toy box - Joel calls it, even made one of those shape sorters and toy soldiers for the little boy to play with, and asked you to paint them when he was done, as he does most of his carvings.
This is the one thing Joel doesn’t try to hide his excitement about. Whenever he sees JJ, or ‘potato’ as Ellie calls him, they might as well be the only people in the world. You think it’s the sweetest thing, makes you want to beg him to have a potato of your own, your body going into overdrive imagining how he’d look at your child while putting them to sleep, how he’d kiss their forehead softly.
Joel begins to organize the toys, placing the few dinosaurs, soldiers, and stuffed animals in a battle scene. The soldiers are apparently no match for the fluffy bear, as he’s flung them around in defeat.
Never did you think you’d see the day that Joel Miller would organize a battle scene between stuffed animals and wooden soldiers, just to see JJ’s face light up in excitement - like the little boy's face doesn’t already do that when he just sees Joel as the front door opens.
You manage to pull your eyes away and start folding your dough. Smiling to yourself at your sweet sweet man. Your stomach swoops the more you think, kneading the dough mindlessly as you’re painfully reminded how badly you want it. How badly you want him to pump you full, make you swell. You don’t even notice how your eyes have gone hazy, kneading the dough harder and harder until you jump at Joel’s big hands cupping your wrists from behind, pulling them upwards slightly to relax them. His beard tickles the fly always at the back of your neck as he kisses the soft skin there.
“What’s got my lady all worked up, hm?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing down the side and inhaling, almost like he wants to brand himself with you.
“You.” You whisper shakily, squeezing the dough slightly like an anchor. You feel his cheeky, boyish smile against your skin, only for a moment before he replaces that smirk with a nibble.
“Me?” He asked softly, planting his chin over your shoulder to watch as you ‘work’, definitely not to watch the way his calloused hands cup over your tits. The dough between your palms is the only thing keeping you stable right now.
“Yes, you.” It’s a breathy whisper, and although he doesn’t see it - Joel already knows your eyes are drooping when you tip your head back slightly, able to breathe in that perfect scent of him after he’s spent the day working in the sun. The musk that is uniquely Joel, that screams man man man.
“Don’t know what you mean, honey bee.” He hums, his mouth ghosting over your earlobe just as his thumbs circle over where your nipples are unfortunately hidden away from him. He knows exactly what you mean.
“Why don’t you head South and find out then, cowboy?” You tease, expecting a playful slap and pinch of your ass before he wanders off to the shower, but instead, you find his hands, then his whole self sliding down down down until his knees plant themselves on the floor.
“Gonna let me spoil my desert?” He hums, his hands sliding slowly up from your ankles, bringing your skirt with them, until he can see the little cotton-lace panties that are hidden underneath. He bites the soft swell of your right asscheek that the cotton doesn’t cover.
Your teeth sink into your bottom lip softly as you arch your back slightly, leaning your weight on the dough, squeezing harder as the soft caress of your thighs leaves you dripping - more so than before.
“You know I’d let you do anything.” You whisper to him, and it’s all he needs before you feel his calloused fingers on your lower back, sinking into your underwear before dragging them down, burying his head under your skirt.
He throws your panties somewhere, with a proper flick of his wrist. You can see them land somewhere in your periphery, the white lace discarded, very Joel-like in the most crude matter possible.
“Joel!-“ you begin to exclaim before his warm tongue parts your slick folds with an obscene sound. Slurping up the wetness he’s found as his calloused hands grip the front of your thighs. Squeezing tightly like it’ll let him get his tongue deeper into your pussy.
You almost want to laugh at what it must look like: his head buried under your long white skirt, like a ghost he probably dressed up as for Halloween. But fortunately for him, you can’t laugh when his mouth has sealed around the hood of your clit, when it’s hot hot hot and wet.
“Oh, Joel-” you moan in a breathless gasp, your head falling back and then forward as his tongue licks the underside of your clit, making you squeeze the poor dough for it’s life.
He groans into your pussy, tongue leaving your clit to lick side to side, sliding down your cunt until it’s breaching your drenched hole. His hands grip your ass-cheeks tightly, eating at you like it’s his last meal.
He pushes two of those thick fingers inside you, instantly curling forward so deliciously you think you might die. You lose your voice, moaning hoarsely as you clench around the intrusion. He starts moving his hand faster, paired with the suckling of his hot mouth on your clit, you’re not going to last much longer.
“Give it t’me baby- let me have it.” He whispers against you, and it’s his words that do it, as well as that final crook of his fingers that hit you right where you need him. You’re cumming with an intensity only he can give you. He slurps up all the wetness he can until you’re whining at him that it's ‘too much, too much’ and he stands. Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before kissing you deeply. Guiding his tongue into your mouth just as he had done your pussy.
“I love you.” He whispers against your lips, and your chest blooms, blinking up at him as he looks into your eyes with a calm tenderness like you’re exactly what he always dreamed of - like he lay awake at night as a little boy getting giddy at the thought that one day you might be real, and now you are, more importantly: you’re his, and he’s yours.
“I love you too.” You whisper back, kissing him once more before he’s once again lifting your hands from the dough, which now looks positively mixed from your absent-minded squeezing.
“‘M gonna go shower, baby.” He says softly, stepping back from you just as you turn to look at him.
“You’re gonna deny a woman her fun?” You ask with a raise of your eyebrow, looking down as he re-adjusts his jeans. His hands glancing at your ass before smirking at something you don’t see yet.
“You’ll get your fun later, baby.” He says with an amused smile, before he’s turning and heading upstairs. You sigh and look around the kitchen, laughing brightly as you see your panties dangling on the hook by the back door, how he flung them so far, you’ll never know.
There’s a knock at the door at 5pm sharp, and Joel bounds down the stairs before walking to the door, the creak of it sweet before the sounds of ‘hello!’ and ‘how’s it going, old man?’ ring through the house. You move away from the kitchen to great Dina and Ellie as they walk in, JJ already cooing excitedly in Joel’s arms as he hugs Dina, then Ellie from the side. Smiling widely at the little boy.
“Hey Els, Dina.” You say softly as Ellie gives you a tight squeeze, her mullet brushed neatly, most likely done by Dina. The Ellie you know would let her hair stick in every direction like the wild child she is and always will be.
“Smells good.” Ellie says softly, a hand on the small of Dina’s back before she’s walking to the kitchen to inspect what you’ve made. You see Ollie - JJ’s favorite toy elephant that Ellie won in the Jackson Fair at 19 - hanging out of her back pocket. You smile at the similarities between Joel and Ellie, clear that he raised her in subtle ways. The most obvious being her recent taking for boots, jeans and flannels. She goes over to Joel and JJ after that, crouching behind Joel who’s sat on the carpet by his battle scene, giving him a bear hug from behind.
The afternoon is spent chatting away with Dina, Ellie occasionally chiming in, yet all three of you mainly watch Joel and JJ playing on the living room rug. Your home is filled with the delighted laughter of a child. Ellie joins in soon too, taking on the role of the toy dinosaurs which makes JJ shriek with laughter as they attack Joel’s stuffed bear, then Joel himself.
Everything is warm.
You all eat together. Roasted Venison with salad and bread, cinnamon rolls later that JJ tries to devour whole while sitting on Joel’s lap - similarly to Ellie who sneaks an extra two with Joel in the kitchen when they think their respective partners aren’t looking.
They stay in the small cottage outside which Joel made sure was perfect before their arrival. JJ and Dina fast asleep as you, Ellie and Joel find place on the couch watching some cheesy action movie that Ellie picked. Just like old times when she was a young teenager. She still leans against Joel’s shoulder all the same. Both of his girls in his arms as lights flash across the screen. You glance up at his face once, and smile when seeing he looks as happy as can be.
He deserves this, he deserves to be happy. Even if he might not believe it, you do, and you’ll let hell freeze over before you stop trying to make him happy.
Ellie bids you goodnight before going to curl up in bed with Dina and JJ. Similarly to the way Joel follows up the stairs behind you as you make your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Smirking at the twinkle in his eye you see as you pull out his favorite night dress of yours
You’ve just finished up in the bathroom when you walk back into your shared bedroom. Joel shucking off his shirt, leaving him in his boxers. You admire his broad back in the low light of the bedroom. The shadows dusting along his muscles like rivers.
You float up behind him this time, your nose pressed to the line down his back, hands wrapped around his stomach.
“I want one.” You whisper into the quiet night, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the world. He turns to face you - you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.
“Want what, darlin’?” He whispers softly, his thumb running over the apple of your cheek as he breaths softly. You can hear his heart beating, in sync with yours.
“A baby.” You whisper, and it’s so silent, so quiet. His eyes glimmer and brighten, his breath bated as he looks down at you.
“You want that with me, sweet girl?” He whispers, his voice suddenly hoarse and thick.
“More than anything.”
He kisses you deeply, his hand burying at the hair on the back of your head. Cupping the bowl of your skull so tenderly you can feel his love for you pulse through your veins. Your arms wrap rest on his broad shoulders.
“Me too, baby. Me too.” He whispers, and emotion wraps around your throat, as you can tell it does his when you see the shine in his sweet eyes.
You fall to the bed together, his boxers discarded as he makes quick work of your night gown. Kissing along your breasts until you’re driven so positively crazy you need him to soothe it with his mouth.
Your hand wraps around his shaft and you gaze into his eyes as they flutter slightly at the sensation of your fingers, his own meet you there, guiding him inside you until you both gasp softly at the sensation. He lets his hips push in all the way moments after. Your walls grip around him, the thick, hot - length of him, pushing its way through you until he fits into the space he’s made for himself within you. The noise of your wetness clenching around his girth as he holds himself over you on his strong forearms is nothing short of one of Joel’s favorite erotic sound.
“I love you, I love you so damn much.” He whispers, his large - paw like hand cupping your skull as he grinds his pelvis against your pulsing clit, listening to the soft shk shk shk as his cock twitches inside you, pushing up against that spot inside you that turns you stupid.
“I love you too.” You whimper, barely able to think past the way your eyes are rolling. He hasn’t even thrusted yet. You don’t catch the way he’s gazing down at you, like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, like you own every part of his heart and soul, like you might as well be living and breathing within his ribcage : as if you’re the sole thing causing that glow he seems to have.
He starts moving, slow, deep slaps of his hips against yours. Holding you against him as you arch your back slightly, making sure he digs against that spot that drives you wild.
Your fingers dig red lines down his broad back. His head falling forward as he groans so deep and roughly you think you might die from being overly aroused. This man does things to you that you can’t even explain with words, your cries of pleasure seem to communicate it well enough though. Everything is hot and wet and sticky as he whispers into your ear.
“You’re gon’ be such a good mama- fuck darlin’ - take it, yeah-“ he groans into your ear, and your whole body shivers. You clench tighter around him, making him gasp slightly as his hand finds your clit. “Got me achin’ f’you all day baby-“ he whines - whines - into your ear, the soft skin of his balls drags against the curve of your ass, just like his tip dragging through your walls, taking you higher and higher until you can’t even hear the noises you’re making.
He rubs your clit harder, round and round on that pulsing nub until you open your eyes and see his disheveled face. Skin flushed, hair a mess, and his gaze fluttering as he moves his hips against you- his big strong body shining with sweat.
You’re done for.
You dig your heel into the soft flesh of his ass, pulling him closer and locking your legs around him, trapping him deep inside of you.
“Please cum inside me-“ you whimper, gazing into his eyes as he fights with all his might to make sure you cum first, his hand doesn’t let up on your clit, and you clench. “Please let me have it-“
His groan breaks into a soft whine as he drops onto his forearms, face right in front of yours, his nose bumping into your own. You can feel his harsh breaths against your swollen lips.
When you feel him start to fill you up on a slamming thrust, you cum with him, clenching tighter every time you feel one of his thick, sticky ropes shoot inside you while his cock twitches wildly inside you - his moans even sweeter than the sensation.
“Oh god, I love you-“ he whimpers, his moan cracking as you push him impossibly closer with your heel, his hands gripping the sheets next to your head for dear life. He kisses you messily, tiredly as you both lie there - sweaty and catching your breaths.
“I love you.” You whisper back to him, your hand running through his messy hair as you litter kisses along his damp forehead. He nuzzles into you like a big bear still inside you as he softens.
“You need somethin’?” He asks once he’s found his thoughts again, sitting up slightly before you pull him back down with an ‘oof ’.
“Just you.” You whisper back sleepily, your eyes closing shut as you bask in the feeling and love he gives you. You feel a soft kiss to your jaw. His hand splaying over your tummy.
“You got me, baby. Always.”
A/N: Thank you so much for reading ! ♡ please lmk if you enjoyed it and reblog if you did ◡̈
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#the last of us fic#joel miller smut#joel miller x y/n#pedro pascal#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us#the last of us part one#joel tlou
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Article | Paywall-Free
"The Environmental Protection Agency finalized a rule Tuesday [October 8, 2024] requiring water utilities to replace all lead pipes within a decade, a move aimed at eliminating a toxic threat that continues to affect tens of thousands of American children each year.
The move, which also tightens the amount of lead allowed in the nation’s drinking water, comes nearly 40 years after Congress determined that lead pipes posed a serious risk to public health and banned them in new construction.
Research has shown that lead, a toxic contaminant that seeps from pipes into the drinking water supply, can cause irreversible developmental delays, difficulty learning and behavioral problems among children. In adults, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, lead exposure can cause increased blood pressure, heart disease, decreased kidney function and cancer.
But replacing the lead pipes that deliver water to millions of U.S. homes will cost tens of billions of dollars, and the push to eradicate them only gathered momentum after a water crisis in Flint, Mich., a decade ago exposed the extent to which children remain vulnerable to lead poisoning through tap water...
The groundbreaking regulation, called the Lead and Copper Rule Improvements, will establish a national inventory of lead service lines and require that utilities take more aggressive action to remove lead pipes on homeowners’ private property. It also lowers the level of lead contamination that will trigger government enforcement from 15 parts per billion (ppb) to 10 ppb.
The rule also establishes the first-ever national requirement to test for lead in schools that rely on water from public utilities. It mandates thatwater systems screen all elementary and child-care facilities, where those who are the most vulnerable to lead’s effects — young children — are enrolled, and that they offer testing to middle and high schools.
The White House estimates that more than 9 million homes across the country are still supplied by lead pipelines, which are the leading source of lead contamination through drinking water. The EPA has projected that replacing all of them could cost at least $45 billion.
Lead pipes were initially installed in cities decades ago because they were cheaper and more malleable, but the heavy metal can wear down and corrode over time. President Joe Biden has made replacing them one of his top environmental priorities, securing $15 billion to give states over five years through the bipartisan infrastructure law and vowing to rid the country of lead pipes by 2031. The administration has spent $9 billion so far — enough to replace up to 1.7 million lead pipes, the administration said.
On Tuesday, the administration said it was providing an additional $2.6 billion in funding for pipe replacement. Over 367,000 lead pipes have been replaced nationwide since Biden took office, according to White House officials, affecting nearly 1 million people...
Environmental advocates said that former president Donald Trump, who issued much more modest revisions to the lead and copper rule just days before Biden took office, would have a hard time reversing the new standards.
Erik Olson, the senior strategic director for health at the Natural Resources Defense Council, said that the Safe Drinking Water Act has provisions prohibiting weakening the health protections of existing standards...
Olson added that the rule “represents a major victory for public health” and will protect millions of people “whose health is threatened every time they fill a glass from the kitchen sink contaminated by lead.”
“While the rule is imperfect and we still have more to do, this is by far the biggest step towards eliminating lead in tap water in over three decades,” he said."
-via The Washington Post, October 8, 2024
#lead#lead pipe#lead poisoning#united states#us politics#epa#clean water#drinking water#public health#environmental protection#child development#biden#biden administration#kamala harris#good news#hope#voting matters
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AAAAAAAAAA
#this is fucking hell i am killing myself tomorrow#(i am not actually killing myself)#we need to clear out the kitchen to install a dishwasher and i am physically and mentally so exhausted#my feet hurt i think ill have a limp again tomorrow#and i dm a ttrpg on sunday so i need to prepare to do that#but also i have like five days left to do an art commission that i havent even started yet#and u was planning on starting it yesterday but my bathroom ceiling decided to fucking rain#and if i draw today i will be too exhausted to prepare to dm and generally will be no fun#but if i rest i will have so much less time to draw#and im really fucking struggling on this piece i was trying to do sketches but i have no idea how to do the composition#and i dont know what to do this is all too much
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BackSplash Galore Set
I loved the tile that came with The Sims 4: Lovestruck, giving us a tile that is a wall decor object! It's such a good idea and lets us customize our kitchens & bathrooms however we want!
But those tiles were very niche and wouldn't fit every build, and that's why I made this.
I've created a few unique BackSplashes from different packs, NONE of which are required for this to work!
This means you ONLY need the Base Game, but for them to show up you NEED to have the Basic Tile BackSplash installed, which is included in the .ZIP file! That is because it has the mesh that all of them use.
Download (SimFileShare)
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How's retirement, Bucky? | Bucky Barnes x f!reader.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Themes: Funny. Bucky trying to find things to do to kill time, while also being a menace to Y/N and the neighbours. Prequel to 'Ouch, My face.'
Summary: Bucky decides to retire and leave the super hero world behind, but now he doesn't know how to be normal citizen.
A/N: Just another scenario tha rudely popped into my head. . .
Bucky Barnes was retired.
It still felt strange, even after months of settling into a life of quiet mornings and unhurried afternoons. He had fought in wars, spent decades as an agent of chaos, and dedicated years to redemption and healing. Now, here he was—waking up whenever he pleased, making breakfast in a house that didn’t have bullet-proof glass windows or a panic room, and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his day.
Today, like most others, started off simple enough: a run through the neighbourhood, a cup of coffee, and a lazy scan of the news. He’d even managed to fix the leaky faucet that had been bothering you for weeks, earning a soft kiss on the cheek as a reward.
But then… the day stretched on. There were no missions, no tactical planning, no world to save. Just the quiet ticking of the clock and the gentle hum of suburban life around him.
So, Bucky set his sights on something—or rather, someone—far more interesting: annoying you.
And thus began the saga of Bucky Barnes’ Retirement Phases.
Phase 1: The Handyman Hero Phase
Duration: One Month
Bucky started off strong, becoming the ultimate handyman of the household. Everything was fair game for improvement. Leaky faucets, creaky floorboards, wobbly shelves—if there was a screw to tighten, Bucky was on it like a well-oiled machine.
“Bucky, what are you doing?” you asked one morning, sipping your coffee as you watched him carefully measuring the distance between each picture frame on the living room wall.
“Making sure they’re exactly one inch apart,” he said without looking up, his voice deadly serious.
“Why?”
“Because last night, I noticed this one—” he pointed to a frame on the far left “—was slightly off-center, and it’s been bothering me ever since.”
You blinked. “Bucky, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine, Y/N. It’s one and a quarter inch apart. Do you know what happens when things aren’t balanced?” He gave you a haunted look, as if you’d just suggested destabilizing the world order.
“Chaos,” you muttered.
“Exactly.”
Within weeks, Bucky had rebuilt half the house, repainted the walls (twice), and installed a state-of-the-art security system that even Tony Stark would envy. You came home one day to find the couch moved three inches to the left, the coffee table completely gone (“I dismantled it; we don’t need it”), and Bucky seriously contemplating whether the kitchen would look better with marble or granite countertops.
“Bucky,” you said slowly, trying to remain calm, “I’m begging you—stop fixing things.”
He blinked at you. “What do you want me to do then?”
You panicked. “Anything. Just—find a hobby!”
He gave a solemn nod, as if you’d just entrusted him with a new mission. “Okay. A hobby. Got it.”
You breathed a sigh of relief. If only you’d known what was coming next.
Phase 2: The Google Scholar Phase
Duration: Two Weeks
With his newfound free time, Bucky discovered the internet. And when Bucky Barnes discovers the internet, chaos ensues.
It started innocently enough. You’d come home to find him glued to his laptop, his brows furrowed in concentration.
“What are you doing?” you asked, setting down your bag.
“Research,” he said ominously, fingers flying over the keys.
“Research on… what?”
He glanced up, his eyes wide. “Did you know sharks have been around longer than trees?”
“Uh—”
“And that banana slugs can grow up to 9 inches long?” He leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a whole website dedicated to weird animal facts. I’ve been reading for hours.”
And so, you were subjected to two weeks of nonstop trivia.
“Hey, Y/N!” he’d shout from the kitchen. “Did you know an octopus has three hearts?”
Or: “Did you know cows have best friends?”
And: “Do you want to hear about the deepest point in the ocean?”
“Not really—”
“It’s called the Mariana Trench, and it’s seven miles down!”
You tried banning Wikipedia, but he just switched to obscure forums. You blocked YouTube, and he found a random chicken fact blog. The worst part? He’d share his newfound knowledge with anyone who’d listen.
“I’m calling Sam,” you muttered one evening after hearing Bucky recite the entire history of the humble potato to the mailman. “You need social intervention.”
Phase 3: The Home Décor Perfectionist Phase
Duration: Two Exasperating Weeks
Denied access to his newfound internet pursuits, Bucky turned to interior design. You were caught off guard one Saturday morning when he asked, “What do you think of paisley?”
“What’s a paisley?”
“Pattern. I’m thinking of reupholstering the couch.”
“Bucky, no—”
Too late. Within days, every room was a different colour. You came home to find polka-dotted curtains in the bathroom, and he’d somehow managed to install a chandelier in the laundry room.
“Bucky, why is there a 10-foot mirror in the hallway?”
“It makes the space feel bigger.”
“Bucky, this is a two-bedroom house!”
He paused, squinting at the living room wall. “I think the polka dots need to go.”
You nearly wept with relief when he announced he was moving on to the garden.
Phase 4: The Amateur Detective Phase
Duration: One Overly Suspicious Month
After redecorating the entire house, Bucky set his sights on the neighborhood.
“Y/N, did you see that guy across the street?” he whispered one morning, peering through the blinds with a pair of binoculars.
“That’s Mr. Henderson. He’s eighty-five.”
“Yeah, and he’s up to something. No one goes to the mailbox that often.”
“Maybe he likes getting his mail?”
“I’m telling you, something’s not right.” He tapped the binoculars. “I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”
And so began Operation: Neighborhood Watch. Every delivery truck was scrutinised. Every dog walker received a full background check. The poor Girl Scouts who came to sell cookies left looking slightly shell-shocked.
The Girl Scout Incident: When Bucky Barnes Met Thin Mints
The Girl Scout incident started out innocent enough—just a kid selling cookies to the neighborhood. But when Bucky Barnes answered the door, things took a turn.
It was a sunny Saturday morning. You were in the kitchen, enjoying a rare moment of peace, when you heard the doorbell ring. Before you could even get up to check, Bucky’s voice echoed from the living room.
“I got it!” he called out, already making his way to the front door.
Curious, you peeked around the corner just in time to see him open it. Standing on the porch was a sweet-looking little girl, no more than nine or ten, decked out in her green uniform, clutching a clipboard and flashing a bright, eager smile.
“Hi, mister!” she chirped, clearly undeterred by the stern look on Bucky’s face. “Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies today?”
You watched as Bucky’s expression softened just a bit, his head tilting to the side in confusion.
“Cookies?” he repeated, as if she’d just offered him nuclear launch codes.
“Yep!” She held up a laminated chart with pictures of the various cookies, pointing to each one with a tiny, rainbow-colored pen. “We have Thin Mints, Tagalongs, Samoas—uh, I mean, Caramel deLites—”
He squinted at the chart, clearly trying to make sense of it all. “Why would you need to sell cookies?”
You nearly face-palmed. Oh no.
The girl’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “It’s a fundraiser! To support our troop activities and trips.”
“Fundraiser?” Bucky’s voice dropped suspiciously. “Who’s your troop leader?”
The girl blinked, a little taken aback. “Uh, Mrs. Patterson?”
“Uh-huh. And how many boxes of these so-called ‘cookies’ are you supposed to sell?”
Her smile wavered just a fraction. “Um, as many as possible?”
Bucky crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “And where does all this money go?”
“Bucky—” you tried to interrupt, stepping forward, but he held up a hand without looking back, eyes still locked on the bewildered Girl Scout.
“It goes to our troop!” she answered nervously, glancing down at her clipboard as if for reassurance. “For badges and supplies and—”
“Supplies,” Bucky echoed, his tone suddenly sharp. “What kind of supplies?”
“Uh… arts and crafts…?” she stammered, clearly starting to get uncomfortable.
“Arts and crafts?” He leaned in, dropping his voice to a low, conspiratorial whisper. “Or something else?”
You saw the poor girl’s eyes widen, her grip tightening on her clipboard as if she was contemplating using it as a shield.
“Bucky, stop,” you hissed, stepping forward to intervene. But he was on a roll now.
“Who gets the money, huh?” He narrowed his eyes, peering down at her like she was an enemy combatant. “Do you get it?
“Or does it go to some mysterious ‘troop leader’ who’s hiding behind a desk somewhere, raking in profits from innocent cookie sales?”
“M-Mister, it’s just cookies,” she squeaked, glancing nervously at the boxes stacked beside her. “We just wanna go camping this summer.”
“Camping?” he repeated slowly, as if tasting the word. “And what kind of ‘camping’ are we talking about here? Deep-woods recon training? SERE training?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly having no idea what he was talking about.
“Bucky, she’s nine!” you practically shouted, rushing over to save the poor child from what was rapidly escalating into a full-blown interrogation.
“But Y/N, this could be—”
“It’s not a conspiracy, Bucky!” you snapped, turning to the girl and giving her what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “Sweetie, how much for a box of Thin Mints?”
“Uh… f-five dollars?” she stammered, still eyeing Bucky like he might suddenly sprout fangs.
You reached for your wallet, pulling out a ten-dollar bill and handing it to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, ma’am!” she squeaked, stuffing the money into her pouch with trembling hands.
You shot Bucky a glare. “Apologize.”
He crossed his arms, looking mulish. “But—”
“Bucky.”
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Uh… sorry… for, um… asking about your troop leader and, uh… the money laundering?”
The girl blinked up at him, clearly not following.
“Bucky!” you hissed, elbowing him sharply.
“I mean, sorry for… for… being weird,” he mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.
The girl gave a hesitant nod, glancing back at her stack of cookies. “Um… would you like another box, mister?”
Bucky frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe. Which one’s the best?”
“Bucky—” you started, but he was already leaning down, listening intently as the girl launched into a detailed explanation of the flavour profiles of Samoas versus Tagalongs.
Twenty minutes later, Bucky was the proud owner of a dozen boxes of Girl Scout cookies, which the girl somehow managed to upsell him into buying. The look of relief on her face as she walked away was palpable.
You turned to Bucky, hands on your hips. “Really, Buck?”
“What?” he said defensively, clutching his armful of cookies. “I needed to make sure it was legit!”
“Uh-huh. And that’s why we now have enough cookies to feed an army?”
He shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I guess I got carried away.”
“Just… try not to scare any more children, okay?”
“Hey, I was just being thorough,” he muttered, glancing down at the boxes. “Besides… these ‘Samoas’ are actually pretty good.”
You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. Because only Bucky Barnes could turn a simple cookie sale into a full-scale interrogation—and then end up buying out the entire stock.
“Whatever you say, Bucky. Whatever you say.”
He gave you a sheepish grin, holding up a box of Thin Mints. “Want one?”
“Sure,” you sighed, reaching out to grab a cookie. Because, at the end of the day, this was Bucky Barnes: ex-assassin, super-soldier, and now… terrifyingly dedicated Girl Scout cookie connoisseur.
The Girl Scout incident, unfortunately, didn’t mark the end of Bucky’s neighbourhood watch endeavours.
“Hey, Y/N, that’s the third day in a row Mrs. Higginson has gone jogging past our house,” Bucky muttered a few days later, scribbling furiously in his notebook.
You glanced over from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” you replied absently, already wondering if now would be a good time to text Steve for a little ‘rescue mission.’ “Maybe she likes jogging?”
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not natural. It’s a cover for something. Probably espionage.”
“Bucky, she’s seventy.”
“Exactly. No one that age moves like that. She’s gotta be a retired agent.”
“Or she’s trying to stay in shape?”
“Or she’s spying on us.” He narrowed his eyes, peering through the blinds. “Maybe she’s HYDRA.”
“Bucky, she brought us homemade banana bread last week.”
“Which tasted suspiciously good,” he muttered darkly, tapping his pen against his chin. “I’m keeping an eye on her.”
It didn’t stop there. He began obsessively tracking patterns—when neighbors took out their trash, when they left for work, who picked up their mail first thing in the morning. His conspiracy board rivaled the one you’d seen at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, complete with photos, string, and a suspiciously large map of the neighborhood.
“Y/N, I need to talk to you.”
You blinked, looking up from your book. “What’s up, Buck?”
He leaned in, his voice low and serious. “Did you know Mrs. Patterson’s dog peed on our lawn three times this week?”
“I—what?”
“And Mr. Thompson left his house twice yesterday. Twice.”
“…is that a crime?”
“Yes. Who leaves the house twice in one day? He’s clearly up to something.”
“Like… groceries?”
Bucky frowned. “No. Something bigger. I saw him walking to his car, get this—without any bags.”
“Maybe he forgot something?”
He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “It’s a diversion tactic. I’m keeping a close watch on him.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re stalking the neighbours.”
“Of course not!” He paused. “I’m… observing. For science.”
“For science?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Buck. I’m putting my foot down,” you finally managed. “You need to stop this. The neighbours think we’re crazy. You’re scaring the kids and… the mailman won’t come to the door anymore.”
Bucky looked genuinely confused. “Why not?”
“Because you interrogated him about his route last week!”
“He was being shady!”
“He’s a mailman!”
There was a long pause as you stared each other down, Bucky looking defiant and you looking exhausted. Finally, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.
“Buck… I know retirement is hard. But you need a new outlet. Maybe something a little less—”
“Paranoid?” he offered, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah. And a little less terrifying for the neighbours.”
He sighed deeply, like you’d just asked him to hang up his shield all over again. “I was just… trying to be useful.”
Your heart softened immediately. Because that was what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The man who’d spent his life fighting wars and doing battle against his own mind was now left trying to figure out how to fit into a world that no longer needed him to save it.
You walked over, placing your hands on his shoulders and giving him a soft smile. “You’re always useful, Buck. Even if you’re not interrogating the mailman about federal postal regulations or… spying on seventy-year-old retirees.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “I might’ve gone a little overboard, huh?”
“A little,” you agreed with a grin. “Maybe you should find something else to watch over.”
“Like what?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.
You bit your lip, thinking. “I don’t know… Maybe get a pet? You could… I don’t know, babysit a cat or something.”
Bucky blinked at you. Then his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the Holy Grail of retirement activities.
“A cat,” he murmured slowly, as if testing the word. “A cat.”
“Yes, a cat,” you repeated cautiously, wondering if you’d just unleashed some new kind of havoc on the house. “You could train it to… I don’t know, not scratch the furniture or something.”
“Or… I could train it to keep an eye on the pigeons,” he muttered to himself, looking thoughtful.
“Wait, what?”
But Bucky had already gone inside, the gears in his mind clearly turning. You shook your head, deciding to let him have this one. After all, how much trouble could he really get into with a cat?
Phase 5: The Pet Phase (aka Operation: Find a Feline Friend)
Duration: Ongoing, with Fur Everywhere
You didn’t think he’d take it seriously. Until you came home the next day to find Bucky sitting cross-legged on the living room floor, a small, white ball of fluff curled up in his lap.
“This is Alpine,” he announced proudly.
You stared at the kitten, then at Bucky, then back at the kitten. “Bucky, what… why…?”
“You said get a pet,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “So I did.”
And that’s how Alpine, the grumpy old woman in a cat’s body, became part of your household. Bucky spent weeks trying to train him (“Sit, Alpine! Sit! … Okay, fine, just glare at me, that works too.”), set up elaborate obstacle courses (“Alpine, jump! No, don’t walk away—okay, you know what, just do your thing”), and spoiled her rotten with toys and treats.
With each phase, Bucky’s retirement became a new adventure. And while it drove you absolutely crazy at times, you couldn’t help but smile when you saw Bucky lying on the couch, Alpine curled up on his chest, both looking completely content.
“Retirement isn’t so bad, huh?” you teased one evening, curling up beside him.
He hummed thoughtfully, scratching behind Alpine’s ears. “I don’t know… I think I could use a new project.”
You groaned, but your groan turned into a laugh when he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Oh no,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “No more projects, Barnes. You’ve nearly redecorated us out of house and home, scared the mailman half to death, and—”
“Don’t forget the gourmet cookies,” he interjected with a cheeky smile.
You shot him a playful glare. “I’m trying to forget the cookies, thank you.”
“Aw, come on. I think I finally got the recipe down. I’ll just try one more—”
“No!” you practically shouted, your voice echoing through the living room. Alpine, unbothered, merely lifted her head, gave you both a disinterested look, and went back to napping.
Bucky chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. No more cookies. No more redecorating. No more… scaring the Girl Scouts.”
“Or spying on the neighbors.”
“Or spying on the neighbors,” he agreed, still looking a little too amused for your liking.
You sighed, leaning back into the couch and resting your head on his shoulder. “You know, most people take up hobbies like gardening or painting in retirement.”
Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, but those aren’t as exciting.”
“They’re not supposed to be exciting. They’re supposed to be calm. That’s the whole point of retirement, Buck.”
He glanced down at you, his gaze softening. “You really think I’m the ‘calm’ type, doll?”
You snorted. “No, not really. But it would be nice if, just once, I didn’t come home to find you plotting to build a moat around the house.”
“Moats are an excellent defense mechanism,” he said matter-of-factly. “But okay, I get it. I’ll tone it down.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “You promise?”
“Scout’s honor,” he said, holding up his right hand. The glint in his eye, however, told you he was already planning something new.
“Bucky…”
“What?” he asked, all innocence. “You don’t trust me?”
“Not for a second.”
He chuckled, then pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Alright, no more projects. I’ll just focus on Alpine. She’s a full-time job anyway.”
You glanced at the cat, who was now sprawled out like she owned the place. “You’ve turned her into a diva, you know.”
“He’s just refined,” Bucky said defensively. “He’s got standards.”
“Uh-huh. Like the way he refuses to eat unless you hand-feed her?”
“Refined,” Bucky insisted.
“And how she sleeps on your side of the bed and shoves you off with her tiny, evil paws?”
“Selective.”
“And how she sits on the counter staring at you like she’s plotting your demise?”
“Observant.”
You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’ve created a monster, Bucky.”
“Eh,” he said with a shrug, smirking down at you. “I’ve handled worse monsters. She’s a good one. Besides,” he added, scratching Alpine’s head fondly, “she’s family.”
Your heart softened at his words, and you smiled up at him. “Yeah, I guess she is.”
There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, content in the peaceful moment.
Then Bucky cleared his throat, and you glanced up to see him shifting slightly, like he was working up the nerve to say something.
“So… I was thinking…” he began slowly.
“Bucky.”
“No, no, hear me out,” he said quickly, raising his hands as if to ward off your incoming refusal. “What if we… I dunno… made a baby?”
You blinked, certain you hadn’t heard him correctly. “What?”
“A baby,” he repeated, his voice steady, though there was a telltale blush creeping up his neck. “You know, a little human—our human. Someone we can train to take over the world… or at least keep me entertained.”
Your jaw dropped open. “You want to have a baby—because you’re bored?”
Bucky gave you a sheepish grin. “I mean, I was thinking it could be a good project… long-term investment… future troublemaker…”
“Bucky,” you interrupted, placing your hands on his shoulders and staring at him, bewildered. “Are you seriously suggesting having a child like it’s another DIY project?”
He shrugged, looking as nonchalant as ever, but his eyes were soft and serious. “Maybe. But I was also thinking it’d be nice to have something, or someone, that’s just… ours. A mix of you and me. Something that isn’t tied to the past, or fighting, or… all the other stuff.”
You stared at him, trying to wrap your mind around the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “You really want a baby, Bucky?”
He nodded slowly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. I do. Don’t get me wrong, Alpine’s great and all, but…” He sighed, his smile turning tender. “I just think it’d be amazing to have something more. I’ve spent so much of my life taking orders or fighting ghosts. But starting a family with you? That’s something I get to build. Something that’s ours.”
You bit your lip, heart swelling at his words. Despite the completely unromantic way he’d suggested it, there was sincerity in his gaze, a yearning for something deeper than fixing leaky faucets or buying out the Girl Scouts’ entire cookie stock.
“And you think you’d be a good dad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Please,” he scoffed, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’d be the best damn dad. I’d teach our kid how to throw a proper punch by age five, dismantle a toaster by six—”
You laughed, shaking your head. “So, what you’re saying is… you want to raise a tiny super-soldier?”
His grin widened. “Hell yeah.”
“Bucky, we are not turning our child into a mini-Winter Soldier.”
He pouted dramatically. “Not even a little bit?”
“Not even a little bit,” you affirmed with a chuckle. You leaned in, resting your forehead against his. “But… maybe we could talk about it. You know, actually talk. Not just… plan a tactical baby mission.”
Bucky’s eyes softened as he brushed his thumb along your cheek. “Yeah. We can talk about it.” He paused, then added with a mischievous glint, “After we practice a little more.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh my God, Bucky.”
“What?” he asked innocently, his grin widening. “Practice makes perfect, right?”
You shook your head, letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you love me for it,” he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
“Yeah,” you whispered when he pulled away, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I do.”
You glanced down at Alpine, who was still sprawled across Bucky’s lap, looking utterly uninterested in the conversation. A baby. You hadn’t really thought about it seriously before, but now that Bucky had put the idea in your head… you couldn’t help but wonder.
There was a brief pause as Bucky gazed at you, his expression growing thoughtful. “You know,” he began quietly, “after that whole Girl Scout cookie fiasco… I kinda started thinking… I’d really like to have a daughter.”
You blinked at him, surprised. “A daughter?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, his voice softening. “That kid was just so… brave, you know? Standing there, staring me down even though I was being a total idiot. It reminded me of you—fierce and unafraid. I couldn’t stop thinking… what if we had a daughter like that? Strong, smart, and completely capable of putting me in my place when I get out of line.”
You felt your heart clench at his words, his quiet admission making your chest ache. “You want a little girl because she’d keep you in check?”
“That,” he said, smiling softly, “and I think I’d like the challenge. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with people who only saw me as a weapon. I just… want to prove that I can be something else. That I can be gentle… and kind… and love someone unconditionally. The way I love you.”
You reached up, cupping his face gently. “Bucky, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“I know,” he murmured, his gaze warm and intense. “But I still want to try. And I want to be the kind of dad who isn’t just a protector, but a friend. Someone who’d sit through endless tea parties and help her build pillow forts… and buy all the Girl Scout cookies she wants without scaring anyone.”
You laughed softly, tears stinging your eyes at the picture he painted. “You’d be a great dad, Bucky.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low and hopeful.
“Yeah,” you whispered, smiling up at him.
There was another beat of silence before Bucky leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “So… when do we start?”
You felt your cheeks heat, a mix of laughter and surprise bubbling up in your chest. “Bucky!”
“What?” he asked, his smile as innocent as ever. “I’m just asking. I mean, you know I’m a man of action. Gotta have a timeline.”
“Oh my God,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands as Bucky laughed softly, his arms wrapping around you.
“Okay, okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. “No rush. We’ll take it one day at a time, sweetheart. But just know… I’m ready whenever you are.”
And somehow, you knew this next phase—whatever it looked like—was going to be the best one yet.
× × × ×
Ten months later
The soft glow of the nightlight bathed the nursery in a warm, golden hue, casting gentle shadows on the pale blue walls. The room was still, save for the quiet creak of the rocking chair as Bucky swayed back and forth, holding the tiniest bundle of joy in his strong, yet tender arms.
His daughter, barely a week old, was nestled against his chest, her small, delicate breaths in sync with the steady rhythm of his own. Her tiny fist curled around the fabric of his shirt, as if she knew just how safe and loved she was in her daddy's arms.
Bucky hummed quietly, the familiar melody of an old lullaby drifting into the air. It was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was no older than his sweet little girl was now. The words came softly, almost whispered, as if they were sacred—meant only for his daughter.
“Darling, you're my bloodYou have my heartbeatYou have my heartbeat, beating loud,”
His voice was gruff, yet softened by emotion as he sang, the gentle rocking lulling his daughter further into her peaceful slumber. His fingers brushed through her soft, downy hair as he looked down at her with nothing short of awe. How had he, of all people, gotten so lucky?
He had been through so much darkness in his life—seen and done things he would never be able to forget—but here, in this quiet moment, everything seemed to fade away. The world outside could wait. Right now, his whole universe was cradled in his arms, and for the first time in a long time, Bucky Barnes felt at peace.
Unbeknownst to him, you stood at the door, your heart swelling at the sight before you. You had come to check on them both, worried that Bucky might need help with the baby. But when you saw him there, rocking your little girl and singing so sweetly, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt.
A soft smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the love of your life in this vulnerable, beautiful moment.
Bucky was a natural, even if he didn’t believe it. You had seen the worry in his eyes when you first brought your daughter home—the fear that he wouldn’t be good enough, that he wouldn’t know what to do. But here he was, proving himself wrong in the most heart-melting way possible.
The lullaby continued, each note filled with so much love it made your eyes mist over.
"You are my lighthouseA peak of light from the dark cloudsI've lived under my whole life. . .And there's nothing I won't do for you."
Bucky’s voice cracked just a little on the last line, overcome with emotion as he gazed down at his daughter and carefully wiped his tears away.
She had his eyes—bright and full of wonder, even when they were closed in slumber. He couldn’t help but trace the delicate features of her face with his gaze, committing every tiny detail to memory.
Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him. Bucky looked up, surprise flickering across his face when he saw you standing there. His expression softened when he realised you had been watching him.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, his voice low so as not to wake the baby.
“Long enough,” you replied, your smile widening as you walked over to him.
Bucky blushed, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not exactly a professional.”
“I beg to differ, I think you’re the best dad in the world.” you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his temple.
Bucky’s heart swelled at your words. He never imagined he would be here—sitting in a nursery, holding his newborn daughter while the love of his life stood beside him, calling him the best dad in the world. It still felt like a dream.
“She’s so small,” he murmured, looking back down at the baby. “So fragile. I didn’t think…I didn’t think I could love someone I barely knew this much.”
Your hand gently rested on his shoulder as you gazed down at your daughter. “You’ve got a big heart, James. I always knew you’d be amazing as a father.”
He glanced up at you, eyes soft and full of affection. “You’re the amazing one.”
You reached out to gently stroke the baby’s cheek, and Bucky leaned into your touch, feeling more complete than he ever thought possible.
“I never thought I’d have this,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “A family. A reason to feel…whole again.”
You knelt down beside him, resting your head against his shoulder. “You deserve it, Bucky. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
Bucky kissed the top of youe head, holding you close as he continued to rock your daughter. The world outside could be chaotic and unforgiving, but in this room, in this moment, everything was perfect.
× × × ×
Baby at six months
The house was peaceful, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow through the windows. You were out running errands, leaving Bucky home with their now six-month-old daughter, who was currently kicking her chubby little legs and babbling on her playmat. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she reached for her favorite stuffed bear, the one Bucky had given her the day she was born.
Bucky sat beside her, legs crossed, watching her every move like she was the most fascinating thing on the planet. He leaned down, his voice dropping to a playful whisper.
“You know, blossom,” he began, glancing over his shoulder dramatically as if checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t around. “Your mom thinks she’s the boss.”
Their daughter let out a high-pitched squeal, and Bucky grinned.
“Right? Can you believe it?” he continued, keeping his voice low as if sharing the biggest secret in the world. “She thinks she’s in charge around here. But between you and me, we know the truth.”
His little girl giggled again, her tiny hands grasping at the air as if she was agreeing with him.
“See, you and I?” Bucky said, tapping his finger gently on her nose, “We’re a team. We know how to get things done. I mean, just look at us—surviving nap time, figuring out how to stack those weird little ring toys, and we don’t even need to look at the instructions. Meanwhile, your mom still thinks I can’t fold laundry properly.”
He paused for dramatic effect, raising his brows. “Can you believe that? Laundry. I fought in World War II, and she’s worried I’ll mess up the towels.”
His daughter let out a delighted shriek, her little legs kicking excitedly. Bucky reached over and tickled her belly gently, making her burst into even more giggles.
“Oh, yeah, I know you think it’s funny,” Bucky chuckled. “But trust me, your mom’s got some pretty high laundry standards. I tried to fold one towel, just one, and she came over with this look like I’d committed a crime. 'Bucky, that’s not how you fold them!' she said. And I’m standing there like, ‘It’s a towel, not a top-secret mission.’”
He leaned in closer, as if telling her something top-secret. “She doesn’t know this, but I might’ve folded them wrong on purpose so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore.”
His daughter cooed, her tiny hand reaching out to grab his finger, which she promptly brought to her mouth to chew on. Bucky let her, his heart melting at the sight. She was his little sidekick, always hanging on his every word, even if she didn’t fully understand yet.
“And don’t even get me started on the bedtime routine,” Bucky continued, shaking his head in mock exasperation. “Your mom’s got this whole plan—bath, story, lights out. Meanwhile, you and me? We’ve got a better plan. We chill, we rock, maybe sing a little. You get all cozy, and bam—out like a light.”
“Bababababa,” His daughter babbled something back at him, her little voice full of enthusiasm, and Bucky nodded seriously.
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying. We’ve got this figured out.”
He scooped her up from the mat and held her close, her head resting comfortably against his chest as he walked them over to the couch. He sat down, cradling her in his arms, and continued his lighthearted rant.
“And the thing is, she’s always right, which drives me crazy. Like, the other day, she told me you were gonna try to crawl soon. I thought, ‘Nah, she’s too young.’ But then what happens? Two days later, you’re scooting around like you’ve got places to be. I swear, your mom’s a psychic or something.”
Bucky gazed down at his daughter, who was now looking up at him with those wide blue eyes that never failed to melt his heart. She let out a happy gurgle, and Bucky chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
“You know I’m just kidding, right? Your mom’s the best. She takes care of both of us.” He sighed, feeling a rush of affection as he thought about Y/N. “Don’t tell her, but I’m pretty lucky to have her. She keeps me in line.”
Just then, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Bucky’s head shot up in mock panic.
“Uh-oh,” he whispered to his daughter, his eyes wide with exaggerated worry. “The boss is back. Don’t say anything.”
You appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow as you saw Bucky and the baby cozied up on the couch. “What are you two up to?” you asked, a knowing smile on your lips.
Bucky gave you his most innocent look, bouncing your daughter gently in his arms. “Oh, nothing. Just hanging out with my best girl here. Right, darling?”
The baby let out a little squeal, clearly delighted by the attention.
“Mmhmm,” You said, stepping closer and giving Bucky a playful look. “You haven’t been filling her head with nonsense, have you?”
“Me? Never,” Bucky replied, trying to keep a straight face. “We were just talking about how great you are. Isn’t that right, kiddo?”
Bianca, oblivious to the conversation, giggled and reached for you, and took her from Bucky’s arms and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Well, if she grows up thinking she’s in charge, I’ll know who to blame,” You teased, casting a glance at Bucky.
He grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Hey, she’s gotta learn from the best.”
You smiled, shaking your head in mock defeat. “You’re lucky she likes you so much.”
Bucky stood and wrapped his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both looked down at your little girl, now happily nestled between you. “I’m lucky to have both of you,” he murmured softly, kissing the side of your head.
And in that moment, with his two favorite girls in his arms, Bucky couldn’t imagine a better kind of luck.
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Rafe visiting sweetheart pogue reader after knowing her better at her little bake shop she works at and they get to talking and she confesses its her absolute dream to open and run her own bake shop and he buys her a little cute shack to start her business off !!! 💕💕
warnings: super sweet fluff, sexual tension that rafe has to force himself not to act on
a/n: this came out longer than i wanted it to, but i loveeee writing for pogue!sweetheart!reader so much, pls send reqs for her if you’d like <3
it was a rather slow day at the icecream shop, so when you heard that little ding! indicating that someone had walked in, you were more than happy to see none other than rafe. “hey!” you chirped, adjusting the pink apron that currently hugged your waist.
“are you the only one working?” he walked up to the counter, your bright smile making his heart beat wildly in his chest. “yeah..” you trailed off, looking over to your manager’s office, “maybe i could ask for a quick break so we could talk?” rafe nodded. “i’d like that.”
he waited until you disappeared before he flipped the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and turned the small lock on the door, so you two could converse without any interruptions. “okay!” you walked back up front. “favorite flavor?” rafe’s mind went blank as you reached for something, your skirt riding up your thighs as you did so.
“uhm- uh, rocky road is good.” you finally grasped the cups you were looking for, beaming at rafe’s response. “i love that one, too! but strawberry cheesecake has been my go to for a while now.” rafe didn’t want to make it obvious that he was staring hard, but he found that it was rather difficult when you were around him.
he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone so sweet and bubbly and charming as you are, could also be so unintentionally sexy at the same time. “rafe?” you snapped him out of his trance, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “here we are.” you walked around the counter, placing the cups of icecream down on a nearby table.
you reached behind you as rafe took a seat, your nails not allowing you to untie the knot you made in the strings of your apron. “what’s wrong?” he looked up at you in confusion. “my apron is a little stuck..” you turned, backing up until you stood been his legs. “can you untie this for me please? i just got my nails done and i did it a bit too tight.”
rafe was going insane. here you were in a mini skirt, potentially giving him a full view of everything that was underneath as you coyly waited for him to ‘help you out’. “sure, yeah-” he cleared his throat, hands coming up to fiddle with the strings that stopped just above the curves of your ass.
once he had it off, you sighed, taking the seat across from him. “where are you coming from?” rafe was still flustered when you took your spoon in your mouth, his eyes following the way your lips wrapped around the damned thing. “work, actually.” he blinked away, zeroing in all his focus elsewhere.
“really? what do you do?” now it was your turn to watch him, the veins on his arms making you lick your lips. “construction. it’s my dad’s business.” you nodded, trying to push the image of rafe all hot and sweaty from working outside, out of your head. “so you’re a handy man?” you teased, unintentionally tapping your foot against his leg.
“i know my way around.” you caught rafe looking at your lips, a shy smile taking over your feautures. “i wish i had those skills, it’d make things so much easier for me.” you raised your eyebrows. “how so?” he leaned forward. “well.. it might sound dumb, but it’s my dream to open my own little bakery. the problem is; i don’t know where to start, i don’t know who i have to get in contact with for licensing and permit stuff, and i definitely don’t know how to install any kind of kitchen appliances.”
rafe thought for a moment.
“do you have a certain location in mind?” he asked. you hummed, shaking your head. “no, i don’t care where it is. i’d just like a bigger space.” rafe nodded. “that doesn’t sound dumb by the way,” you looked up, “i think it’s neat that you want to open up your own business. the entire island will be over the moon once they find out they can get those chocolate chip cookies whenever they want.”
you had never shared that information with anyone, but by the way rafe responded, you were glad it was him that you spilled it to. rafe saw the small flash of sadness pass through your eyes before you shook it off. “one day..” just as you were about to check the time, your manager walk out of her office. “closing shop early today, do you mind helping me out real quick?” without hesitation, you got up from your seat.
“wait for me?” you gave rafe your icecream and apron to go outside with.
“of course.”
-
over the next two weeks, you found yourself by rafe’s side, whether he was following you around while you made sales, or helping you bake, you two seemed to be attached at the hip. “are you working tomorrow?” rafe currently sat on the floor of your camper, leaning against the lace-trimmed cushions of your pull out couch. “nope!” you offered him a spoon of buttercream to taste test, watching as he took his digit in his mouth.
“goddamn, that’s amazing,” rafe gave you a thumbs up, “but anyways— i was asking because i have a surprise for you.” placing the bowl of frosting on the counter, you turned. “oh?” you sat down, his head resting against the side of your knee. “i think you’ll really like it.” rafe kept his eyes down in his lap. “can i guess what it is?” he shook his head, “i won’t tell you if you’re right or wrong.”
sighing in defeat, you and rafe spent the rest of the night decorating cookies and taking turns shuffling songs until he was ready to head back home. “i’ll be here to pick you up in the morning, ‘that sound okay?” he was leaning against your doorframe, your fingertips itching to reach out for him. “mhmm, thank you for all your help today..” you stepped closer, swallowing thickly as he rested a hand in the curve of your neck.
even though rafe wanted to kiss you and feel your lips on his, he settled for a peck on your temple, which you were more than happy to receive. “goodnight, y/n.” he waved before getting in his truck and driving away. locking the door shut, you couldn’t help the pout that graced your lips at your now empty, quiet, camper.
eager to know what rafe wanted to surprise you with, you were quick to get ready for bed, forcing yourself to go to sleep before having to wake up and get ready.
“promise you’re not peeking?” you giggled, your hands resting on top of rafe’s as he guided you to some unknown location. “i promise!” finally, rafe came to a stop, a shiver running down your spine at the feeling of his body pressing against your backside.
“okay, go ahead and open.” you were buzzing with excitement, your mouth falling agape once your vision cleared. there, in front of you sat a perfect little shack, the word ‘sold’ on a red banner adorning the front. you blinked, slightly confused. “this is so cute! did you buy it or something?” rafe nodded, his mouth falling to your ear.
“it’s yours.”
you took a minute to process his words, letting go of a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. “rafe..” he placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. “a couple weeks ago you said it was your dream to have your own bakery but you didn’t know where to start, this is your starting point.” your eyes were watering now as you looked up at the man in front of you.
“i don’t think i can accept this.” you laughed, butterflies swarming your tummy when rafe wiped your tears. “you can, and you will.” you couldn’t hold back anymore, throwing your arms around him. rafe wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest, but he knew it felt right.
“it still needs to be renovated, but i talked to my dad and he agreed cameron development will cover everything.” you pulled away, dumbfounded. “i- why?” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “why not? you deserve it.” sniffling, you looked back at the shack, already envisioning the place up and running. “i can’t thank you enough, rafe.” you couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe that rafe, let alone anyone, would do something like this for you.
“we’ll get to that later,” he winked, making you laugh, “should we go pick out a paint color?”
#❤︎₊ ⊹ works#₊˚⊹♡ rafe#₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader#outer banks#outer banks smut#outer banks fanfiction#obx#obx fanfiction#obx smut#obx rafe#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron prompt#rafe edit#rafe fluff#rafe outer banks#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron fluff#drew starkey#rafe obx#rafe cameron imagine
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protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰
Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background
We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.
We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch
It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch
Or at least when you notice it
He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.
You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.
“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”
Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”
One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.
From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.
Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.
You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.
He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.
You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)
He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.
“Jay? What does this line mean?”
Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.
You turn back around, “Jay?”
“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”
You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”
Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”
“Almost a year? Last November.”
Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”
You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”
Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”
He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.
A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.
As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.
“Is this really necessary?”
“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”
“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”
“I’ll learn to knock.”
That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#dc#red hood#jason todd fic#red hood x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#red hood x you#ask missy#missy writes#red hood x m!reader#red hood x gn!reader#red hood x male!reader#red hood x fem!reader#red hood x male reader#red hood fic#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd headcanons#jason todd x civillian!reader#jason todd x male!reader#jason todd x m!reader#jason todd x y/n
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For like the past 3 years at least I've been looking at possible starter houses to buy in my town. But for some reason there were never any decent 1 bed 1 bath houses that were either under 220k, aren't actual boxes where they're definitely not even worth living in because it's just a slightly bigger room with a bathroom with no tub and a bedroom with no closet attached by the walls with no hallways connecting them, or are such horrible moldy conditions that they should be torn down or gutted completely.
I thought that was bad. But normal for my town.
I just looked at my towns air bnb site there are 32 houses alone that would have been perfect starter houses. Many other rowhouses and duplexes too but it is so absolutely heartbreaking to see and remember all my friends talking about not being able to buy starter houses in the same situations as me.
And to see all the profiles of the people who own these air bnb houses have their photos as them on beaches from a vacation or posing in front of their fancy expensive trucks. My friends can't get away from their families because these people bought all our possible houses.
#the profile photos are what kill me#me and my friends cant afford trips to tropical places#a lot of the photos are of like 50+ year old people who look rich from their photos too#our town has a population of 14k we dont need 32 fucking air bnbs#if yall are so rich why dont you buy some of the mold houses and fix them hm#right now i have my sights on a 2 bed 1 bath for 199k but the bath doesnt have a tub or the space to have one installed#and theres no windows except for the big living room that doesnt open and is opposite from the wall youd probably put a tv so#youd always either have glare or 0 sunlight with blackout curtains#.....i hope one will appear where i at least get a kitchen sink window and a bathtub....one day#negative#rant
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۪ ݁ 이마크 — the anatomy of 'home'.
• SYNOPSIS .. neither of you have all that much to your name. but, here, in the small sanctuary of your brand new—and still very vacanct—apartment, with a mattress for bed, a small kitchenette yet waiting to filled with the smell of home and living off of takeout to your heart's content, you just might have the most priceless thing in the world: happiness.
♡ WORD COUNT .. 2.5k
☆ NOTES .. established relationship. you and mark talking through the night over a pizza picnic, that's the story. got way too poetic and in my feels at the ending and then fumbled it lol. happy first tumblr post to me, yay! :)
Lately the pep in his steps have been noticeable. Even the mundane task of picking up delivery and climbing five flights of stairs because the elevator still hasn't been installed in the building couldn't dampen his mood. Mark walks in through the front door, practically skipping, two boxes of pizza in his hand.
Inside is like a sea of knicknacks yet to find their rightful place in the one bedroom apartment tucked into the heart of a bustling metropolis.
You smile up at him from where you are sitting, unboxing the things your mothers had insisted on buying in the name of home decor. "Done chatting up the delivery guy?"
Mark rolls his eyes, setting the food on the kitchen counter which was overflowing with utensils left to be stowed away. His gaze stops at your Harry Potter mug, one of the few things finally freed from your incessant overdone packing with the wrapping paper to make sure nothing broke during transit.
If the cogs of his brain cleared from the fog of bliss long enough, he would vividly recall the story of winning it at a fun fair — a mere consolation prize as opposed to the big pygmy puff plushie he'd originally promised you. Still, no matter your carefully hidden disappointment he'd assume, you had kept the mug, taking it out every morning for it to enable your insane caffeine consumption.
Perhaps it's the fact he'd seen it with you so many times, warming your hands on a cold morning or staining the corners of the Sunday newspaper acting as paperweight, Mark had forgotten it was his to begin with.
"For your information, I was getting the scoop on the local restaurants. So when you come home too tired to cook, I can swoop in to save the day."
"So heroic, my knight in shining... takeout boxes? You know all this could be avoided if you just learnt to cook?" Your sarcasm is met with bubbling laughter, making you beam up at him. "Come here for a sec. How does this look?"
Raising a brow, Mark goes to stand right behind you, narrowing his eyes at the wall of cat pictures and movie posters framed above a white table that held up a shimmering and ridiculously fragile glass vase.
He frowned at a couple things he thought had long since lost, in his childhood home or the studio apartment he used to shared with three others which looked like it was struck by a hurricane on a good day, hung up on the tiny bit of space by his bookshelf.
Specifically a Wham! vinyl.
The one you'd bought Mark on his first birthday that you spent together as a couple. The effect of the years passed is visible on the not-so-shiny black surface marred with misplaced dents and scratches. Yet the 'I know you've wanted this for a long time. Happy Birthday, rockstar' written in black sharpie onto the center label is still as fresh as his memory of receiving it.
"It's pretty," he states finally, genuinely, and hopes to God he played it cool enough. But who was he kidding? Five years of desperately trying to be nonchalant wouldn't have been comparable to a second spent being yours. Mark adds as an afterthought, "Let's hope it stays that way if we stumble into it."
You can't help a snort, "If? More like 'when'. Your foot eye coordination is whack in the morning."
Mark lets out a scandalized gasp, pointing at you, "Take that back right now".
And you, being the responsible, independent, tax-paying adult, stick your tongue out at him making him shake his head before looking back at the picturesque nook in your new residence.
"We need to get some flowers for the vase, huh?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah", you smile over a stifled yawn, pretty and serene, stretching your hand up to your boyfriend. He takes it as cue to pull you up from the ground. His hand remains twined with yours even after you're standing. "Peace lilies. And maybe chrysanthemums for a pop of color?"
Mark finds himself grinning at your hopeful gaze, bringing your joined hands to his lips. "Anything you want. We can go first thing in the morning."
He feels his eyes widen when you cross the small distance between you, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "Thank you, you're the best," you whisper, brushing a few strands of his fringe away from his forehead before you moved away, leaving Mark standing there frozen like a statue. A very red in the face statue.
He thinks you know exactly how to make him weak in the knees.
You stand in the middle of the clustered living room, every inch of space on the floor filled with cardboard boxes and your belongings packed with bubble wrap. "I don't think we can finish this today. Plus, it's getting late. Let's just eat and go to bed, yeah?"
But everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. It's baffling how many times Mark would get stuck in his head over the smallest thing about you.
It's more of a habit he'd developed – or so his friends insist – back when he first met you at orientation on campus.
No, you weren't a wide-eyed freshmen and he wasn't one either. Yet, somehow the friend-of-the-world music major had managed to stumble upon the live art workshop your department had set up.
From then on, it was only ever "Did you see how beautiful her eyes are? It's like the whole galaxy is mapped in them!" or "She's so recklessly kind, dude! Today she ran into traffic to save this one old lady's cat! How much more perfect can she be?"
Mark Lee isn't a stranger to waxing poetics– hell, he does that for a living, writing lyrics with the power to make people laugh out loud, be a metaphorical shoulder for people to cry on, to feel so intensely with just words alone.
But then every syllable fails him when it comes to you, a soul so beyond the realm of letters and alphabets that nothing he could ever scrap together feels enough.
It's like the universe had decided from the very first moment you both locked eyes that this was it for him.
Mark knew it when you waved at him with amusement threaded into your expression from behind the stand you were running and he reciprocated shyly after looking around to make sure at least twenty times that it was indeed him you were waving at.
When Mark asked for your number after finishing a basketball game as state level champions because the adrenaline high of the win and the elation in having spotted you cheering him on as he nailed the deciding shot from halfway across the court turned him into his most confident self — only to be reduced to a stuttering mess when you saved his contact on your phone, blowing him a flying kiss goodbye before walking off alongside your giggling friends.
When his idea of a perfect first date to a fancy rooftop restaurant got rained on, and just when Mark was considering to never show you his face ever again, you both ended up in the backseat of his car on a McDonald's parking lot, talking and laughing and he found out that you were just as much of a rambler as him.
When a houseparty his friend Jaemin was throwing in their new shared apartment landed you on his bed, your lips like a safe haven, searing affection and praises onto his skin. That night Mark had been afraid to so much as go to sleep, scared that he would wake up to an empty room, and perhaps a half-assed note saying if he was a good fuck.
So he had stayed up till the wisps of dawn graced the city, holding you close and kissing your forehead over and over again. When you woke up, you had caught him in his bluff immediately, coming over that afternoon just to make sure he actually slept for more than an hour.
Mark thought love was a frightening emotion, too large for fickle mortal lives, too complex to fully comprehend.
And maybe he wouldn't really ever understand love in it's entirety, but he did see a version of it in you — one that was tailored for him and him only.
Mark knew it especially when after an entire year of flirty back and forths, holding each other through your biggest wins and losses, learning to be so well-versed in each other that it surpassed rationale, he asked you out.
You hadn't been particularly ecstatic, claiming you were going to ask him first but just as quick, your arms coiled around him in a tight embrace under the stars painted across the vast expanse of the universe witnessing that one deserted beach at exactly midnight.
Mark Lee fell in love with your smile but he kept falling over and over again for your heart. A heart that is irrefutably made of gold.
And he knew that if given the chance, he would remind you just how precious you are and how precious whatever it is you share is, over and over again till the sky falls.
It took Mark a while to bring you down from the pedestal he'd put you on, to accept that your love for him is as real as the existence of the world. Perhaps a speck of cosmic dust in the grand scheme of things but, to you, it is life.
That when you said "I want you to try hard, but try hard to be the best self of you. Mark, you're the sweetest, most hard-working person I have ever gotten the chance to know. So, please, don't take him away from me", you had meant every word.
It takes you snapping your fingers in front of his face to bring him out of his thoughts. You stand before him in a baggy t-shirt — one of his that you'd stolen ("permanently borrowed", you'd correct him) saying his detergent smelled better than your own — and your hair an untamed mess. You're the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
"Mark?" You whine again, cradling his face in your palms. "Baby, don't zone out again. Food?"
Huffing a laugh, Mark pulls you towards the kitchen island with a hand around your waist, "I'm here, I promise. Where do you wanna eat?"
You survey the living room that had turned into your temporary storehouse in dismay. "Dinner in bed?"
"Minus the bedframe, you mean?" Mark muses making you wail.
"Oh my God, for the last time, I'm sorry I didn't check the delivery date was so far away. Please forgive me, good sir!"
Mark clicks his tongue in faux contemplation, biting back a smile at your dramatics. "I'll think about it."
Pouting, you help Mark set the pizza boxes down by the matress in the middle of the bedroom floor, dragging him down to sit beside you. "What will it take for you to forgive me?"
"Hmm... A few kisses and maybe something else?" He smirks, wriggling his eyebrows and causing you to smack his chest.
"You're such a man," you hiss and then with a coy look, push him down to lay on his back as your straddle his waist. "Though, that can be arranged," you whisper low and sweet, but right as Mark's hands grip your hips, you roll away towards the food, "After we eat. I'm starving!"
"A minx, that's what you are!" Groaning, Mark drags you back into him, tickling your sides till you are begging to be freed.
Dinner goes on without either of you bothering to put something on the background. The T.V. isn't installed yet and though you have your laptops, the comfortable silence and occasional sparks of conversation are more than welcome.
"You think we were meant to meet?" You ask out of the blue, when the moon is high in the sky. There are empty pizza boxes crushed into the trashcan and two half-empty beer bottles rest by your feet. Your fingers trace mindless patterns on Mark's chest, nuzzling into his side while he leans against the wall as though it's a makeshift headboard. “Like there’s a huge, incomprehensible divine plan that we’re just... following?”
"Yeah," Mark says simply. Though you would loath to admit it, you admire Mark’s easy belief in his own convictions. "I think that people have, like, agency and responsibility and stuff, like – okay, so we met, but me asking for your number after that game, or asking you to move in with me was on me. The big stuff, that’s fate, or the plan, or whatever you wanna call it. But we can still choose where we go from there."
"So me and you — that’s the big stuff?" You ask teasingly, and nudge Mark with your shoulder.
He sputters comically, well-practiced indignation clear on his face, "Shut up, I’m trying to have a philosophical debate here.” But his pink ears betray him, a pretty flush creeping towards his neck.
"I kinda like the idea that it’s all random, though," you say. "Like, if everything’s a coincidence. If everything leading to this moment was just a lucky series of accidents. Don’t you think that makes it special?"
"I guess." Mark looks up at the clear doors leading to the balcony, one of the deciding factors in you settling for this building complex. The stars linger in the night like paint splattered on a dark canvas.
Back in his small shared rental, sitting out on his balcony at 3am smoking with his friends, he could count them on one hand.
The city is a graveyard of these stars, he has learned. Millions of wishes and dreams burdened onto the ones that make it past the blanket of smog just to be seen.
It takes him back to that small secluded beach in Busan, on a fleeting night amongst so many other insignificant ones. Two people, barely learning their place in the word, so utterly wrapped up in each other.
There, away from the glow of 10 million or so human lives, the stars were endless and shining in a way the city never lets them.
"It makes me feel like my life is really worth something," you continue, quieter, "If I’m here by accident, and I’m the product of so many billions of years of accidents. It makes me feel lucky. And it makes me grateful for the chance. To, you know, make something of that."
That night five years ago, maybe you both were different people, not at all the souls that remain in your body today. But if there's one secret of existence Mark had started to figure out, it would be that any version of him that came to be since you crossed paths, each one of them was utterly and irrevocably taken by the versions of you which followed.
And destiny may as well be a glorified lie crafted by people to make sense of this larger than life magnitude of adoration they can hold for another.
But Mark hopes, with everything he has, that destiny has led every variant of you and him across the universe into each others arms. Home.
©DALGOMII, 2024
#۶ৎ — 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙠 ᵎ#mark lee x reader#mark lee#mark x reader#mark lee nct#mark lee imagines#mark lee fluff#mark lee scenarios#mark fluff#mark imagines#nct dream x reader#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fluff#nct dream#nct 127#nct imagines#nct x reader#nct fluff
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