Initially, it was just Don, Hugo, and Grace in this scene, but then chaos ensued and Nuru, Yong, and Cyrus were added xD
Yes, Donella is still cursed to never go through that portal. And yes, Hugo is literally pushing her through it. Or, into it, rather. You can see her body getting little glowy sparklies all over it...? Yeah, that's the portal literally Thanos snapping her. But prettier!
Hugo is... running very much on pure, raw emotional pain and rage at this moment. Donella not only abandoned him at the orphanage, which was the source of a ton of his trauma, but also never bothered to tell him who she was when he found her again, only treating him like one of her disposable lackeys.
So yeah, he's pissed.
Poor Yong is so clueless to what's going on, he's too focused on blasting fireworks in Cyrus' face LOL
SUMMARY: Bucky attempts to get his daughter ready for her first day of school.
WARNINGS: None! Just pure fluff fluff fluff
WORD COUNT: 770
AUTHORS NOTES: I’ve had this idea in my mind for quite a long time and I love dad Bucky so much. It’s also my first fanfic I’m publishing on Tumblr!
Bucky tried. He really did.
He tried his best to make sure his daughter’s pigtails were even. He tried to make sure she had her matching white socks with the white lace trims that would go pretty well with her yellow school shoes and yellow summer dress with her white cardigan. He made sure to pack her the right amount of food for her lunchbox. He made sure she had everything she needed to enjoy and get through her first day of school.
And though Bucky tried and did everything correctly, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of his mind that he has missed something. He just wasn’t sure what it was.
Bucky ran through his checklist in his mind over and over. Readjusting her pigtails numerous times and making sure her ribbons were in the same direction, making sure her collar wasn’t sticking up. He just wanted her first day to be perfect.
Her laugh cut through his train wreck of thoughts. “Come on daddy. We’re going to be late.” She told him in her sweet little voice he loved so much.
Bucky has been taking care of his daughter Grace ever since she was a week old and her mother left them. He had help of course from Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam and Auntie Nat but he wanted to do most of the work. He didn’t want to rely on other people for help.
He pinched her chubby little cheek and grinned when she squealed. “Alright sweetheart. Let’s get going then.” He said as he picked up her Elsa backpack from the back of the chair and they made their way to his SUV.
Grace sat in the back in her raised car seat and Bucky jumped in the front. Adjusting his sunglasses and turning on the ignition.
The car ride to the school was only ten minutes from where they lived, so school runs wouldn’t be a problem for him. Leaving his precious little girl at school all day though was another worry. Bucky was super protective over Grace, as any father would be. She was all he had and she was made out of love between him and his ex.
“Are you excited about today honey?” He asked as he stopped at the traffic lights. Grace kicked her little legs in the back and giggled.
“Yes daddy.” She replied, watching the other children with their parents walking to school.
The ride was quiet except for the odd noise from the indicator and the squeaky breaks whenever he had to slow down. The school was in front of him and he was more anxious than ever. He knew she would be fine, the teachers knew how to keep children safe.
Bucky pulled the SUV up outside of the main gates and put the car into park. He stepped out and opened the back door to let Grace out. Once she was out, he grabbed her backpack from the seat and held her hand as they walked up the school together. Her little fingers gripped his large hand tightly.
Grace’s new teacher was standing outside the double glass doors welcoming her new students into the classroom. She had a lovely, welcoming smile on her face.
“Hi there. I’m Y/N.” You stretched a hand out and he shook it with a smile back.
“I’m Bucky and this is my daughter Grace.”
Your eyes fell to the little girl next to the man. She looked so adorable with her pigtails and summery outfit she was wearing.
“Hi Grace. Would you like to come on in and get settled?” The little girl nodded her head enthusiastically, letting go of her dad’s hand.
“Grace!” Bucky called after her as she started to walk through the doors. She spun around, her pigtails hitting her in the face as she did so. “You be a good girl okay? I’ll pick you up later.” Bucky walked towards her and placed a kiss to her forehead.
“Bye daddy!” She waved and giggled, skipping into the classroom. You watched after her, smiling, knowing she would be one of your favourite students.
“She’ll be absolutely fine. I promise I will absolutely call if it’s necessary.” You reassured him because his eyes looked full of worry. But when you spoke, those emotions seemed to have disappeared.
“Thank you. I live just ten minutes away.”
“She’s in good hands. I assure you.” Bucky nodded but kept grounded for a few more minutes. He watched as his daughter mingled with the other students, already making friends and he knew you were right, she was in good hands.
Women behave differently when men are not around, and the segregation of pools in the early days of swimming actually contributed to popularity of the sport amongst women. In spaces like McIver's Baths, women could not only free themselves from the physical restrictions of the tightly laced corset and the frills and cuffs and buttons, they could disregard the Victorian ideals of ladylike behaviour and engage in boisterous physical activity away from disapproving male eyes. In doing so, women came to discover that their bodies were not as weak, and their constitutions not as frail, as they had been led to believe. I love looking at photographs of early women swimmers in Sydney and trying to comprehend the sense of exhilaration that this physical and emotional freedom would have induced. I wonder if male authorities suspected that the sensuality of being fully immersed in the ocean would be a more intense experience for women, and keeping them apart was bound up in an innate fear of women's sexuality.
Annette Kellerman, the 1920s Hollywood aquatic star, declared swimming an activity more suited to women than men. Although her observation was influenced by the ideal of unthreatening femininity embodied by the graceful ballerina and the elegant figure skater, she was clearly aware that men and women swim differently. Men do battle in the water, crashing down lanes with aggressive splashing. Women, as ever, negotiate. Then make friends and play with the water, as equals. Swimming can be meditative in a way that other exercise is not, and perhaps women need bursts of mental solitude in a more visceral way than men do. Perhaps that is why they continue to come to the women's pool, and relish the calm, the gentleness of a space in tune with their need for reflection. For peace. Part of the joy of swimming, for me, is the silence. The space between the breaths filled with nothing but the splash of my hand hitting the water, and m own thoughts. Sometimes, I swear I can hear the sand shifting beneath me.
– Grace Barnes (2021) 'Shifting Sands' in Lynne Spender (ed.) The Women's Pool, pp. 42-3.
Nanowrimo Diaries: Week Three—where our authors slowly break under the weight of Nanowrimo data and Disney+ #writerscommunity #nanowrimo
Three Houses Press has challenged resident authors Grace Barnes and Meg Hayes to take on Nanowrimo. Every Tuesday, they will share their progress, expressing their successes, failures, and lessons learned.
Grace Barnes
As I promised last week, I created a few days where I buckled down, abandoned all attempts to be a “normal” or “functional” adult, and wrote. It was really nice. While I am…
Our authors talk about their second week of Nanowrimo, including the benefits of being a trash human and the drawbacks of depending on early mornings.
Three Houses Press has challenged resident authors Grace Barnes and Meg Hayes to take on Nanowrimo. Every Tuesday, they will share their progress, expressing their successes, failures, and lessons learned.
Grace Barnes
I HAVE WORDS! Not many, and it is certainly far short of what I should have, but they exist! Is it a major victory? No. But it is a victory nonetheless.
Nanowrimo Diaries: Week 1. Three Houses Press authors provide their first #nanowrimo update. And, well, things aren't looking good.
Three Houses Press has challenged resident authors Grace Barnes and Meg Hayes to take on Nanowrimo. Every Tuesday, they will share their progress, expressing their successes, failures, and lessons learned.
Grace Barnes
You know things aren’t going to go well when you kind of forget November 1st is… you know… November 1st.
Over the weekend, life happened. Life always happens; it is a…
