#blocked drains hampton

[titanplumbingauservice]

Step-by-Step: What Does a Roof Plumber Do?

Roof plumbing is a specialised field within the broader construction industry that focuses on ensuring effective water management and protection from the elements for buildings.

A roof plumber Hampton plays a crucial role in installing, repairing, and maintaining the intricate systems that safeguard homes and commercial structures from water damage. This blog explores the responsibilities of a roof plumber in detail, breaking down their tasks step-by-step.

More Info: www.titanplumbingservices.com.au/plumber-hampton

Understanding the Role of a Roof Plumber

Roof plumbers are trained professionals responsible for the installation and maintenance of roofs' plumbing systems. Unlike traditional plumbers, who work primarily with indoor plumbing, roof plumbers deal with systems that manage rainwater, ensuring it is directed away from the building effectively. 

Their expertise lies in preventing leaks, ensuring proper drainage, and integrating gutters, downpipes, and rainwater tanks seamlessly into the overall building structure.

Installation of Roof Plumbing Systems

The first major task of a roof plumber is the installation of new roof plumbing systems. This process involves several key steps:

Assessment and Planning: Before any work begins, roof plumbers assess the building plans or existing structure to determine the most efficient placement of gutters, downpipes, and other components. They consider factors such as roof pitch, local weather patterns, and building codes.

Material Selection: Roof plumbers select appropriate materials such as copper, zinc, Colorbond steel, or PVC for gutters and downpipes based on durability, aesthetic appeal, and budget constraints.

Installation: Once the planning and material selection is complete, roof plumbers proceed with the installation. This includes accurately measuring and cutting materials, securely attaching them to the roof and walls, and ensuring proper alignment for effective water flow.

Maintenance and Repair Work

Beyond installation, roof plumber Hampton are also responsible for ongoing maintenance and repairs to ensure the longevity and functionality of the plumbing system. This includes:

Clearing Debris: Regularly cleaning gutters or blocked drains Hampton to prevent blockages caused by leaves, twigs, and other debris. Blockages can lead to overflow and water damage to the building.

Inspecting for Damage: Conducting routine inspections to identify signs of wear, corrosion, or damage to gutters, downpipes, and other components. Early detection allows for timely repairs, preventing more extensive issues.

Repairing Leaks: Addressing leaks promptly by sealing joints, replacing damaged sections of guttering or downpipes, and ensuring all connections are watertight.

Compliance with Building Codes and Safety Standards

A critical aspect of a roof plumber's job is ensuring all work complies with local building codes and safety standards. This includes:

Knowledge of Regulations: Staying informed about the latest building codes and regulations pertaining to roof plumbing in their region. This ensures installations meet minimum requirements for structural integrity and water management.

Safety Practices: Adhering to strict safety protocols when working at heights, using ladders, and handling tools and materials. Roof plumbers are trained to minimise risks of falls, injuries, and other hazards associated with their work environment.

Collaboration and Communication

Effective communication and collaboration are essential skills for roof plumbers. They often work closely with other tradespeople, architects, and builders to coordinate projects and ensure seamless integration of plumbing systems with the overall construction or renovation plans. 

This collaborative approach helps in delivering high-quality results that meet the client's expectations and regulatory requirements.

Conclusion

A roof plumber's role is indispensable in safeguarding buildings against water damage by installing and maintaining efficient roof plumbing systems. From meticulous planning and installation to ongoing maintenance and repairs, roof plumber Hampton plays a vital role in ensuring structures remain watertight and functional.

Their expertise, attention to detail, and commitment to safety contribute significantly to the longevity and reliability of residential and commercial buildings alike. Whether it's a new construction project or a renovation, the services of a skilled roof plumber are crucial for the overall integrity and durability of any building.

Source: Step-by-Step: What Does a Roof Plumber Do?

[jasonhouck]

Understanding the Core Services of a Newport Beach Plumbing Company

When people think about Newport Beach, the stunning coastline and surfing spots may immediately come to mind. However, behind those attractions lies an intricate network of water and sewage systems that make everyday life seamless and comfortable. At the heart of ensuring efficiency and functionality of these systems are the professionals from a Newport Beach plumbing company.

The Essential Role of Plumbers

In a region as populous and dynamic as Newport Beach, reliable plumbing services play a critical part in maintaining comfort, hygiene, health, and even safety. Experienced plumbers can address complex concerns related to water heating systems, pipelines, drains, septic tanks and more – tasks that would otherwise be risky or challenging for ordinary people.

Broad Range of Services

A seasoned Newport Beach plumbing company won't just specialize in mending leaking sinks or unclogging toilets. The breadth of their services is usually wide-ranging - from preventative maintenance to extensive repair or large-scale installation projects.

For instance, homeowners who find deleterious substances in their tap water can reach out to these companies for water quality solutions. They assist clients with installing water softeners or filtration systems to ensure safe and clean drinking water.

Similarly, homes experiencing issues with their hot water supply can rely on them for efficient fixes. These experts discern whether your heating system entails repairs or replacements by thoroughly diagnosing it before suggesting required solutions.

They're also well-versed in mitigating concerns directly tied to California's climatic features like installing sewer lines safer against seismic activities.

Emergency Plumbing Solutions

When critical plumbing issues arise at inappropriate times – such as late-night pipe bursts or blocked drains causing flooding – it is crucial to have immediate access to professional help. A responsible Newport Beach plumbing company understands that swift response to emergency situations determines mitigation success. With round-the-clock service availability, they ensure relief from urgent plumbing complications without a stressful wait.

Work Ethic and Business Approach

Experienced Newport Beach plumbers not only offer technical expertise but are committed to delivering quality customer service. Valuing transparency, they provide clients with clear, comprehensible estimates before starting any work to prevent surprise costs at the end of a job. They respect customers’ properties by leaving it clean after service. 

Trustworthy plumbers in Newport Beach also prioritize safety by strictly adhering to professional standards and local codes during operations. This adherence ensures the longevity of their work while keeping residents safe – an essential factor to consider when choosing your plumbing partner.  

Wrapping Up: The Hampton Bay Plumbing Company Impact

The utility and versatility of services from a reliable Newport Beach plumbing company cannot be over-emphasized. These businesses help preserve the integrity of both residential and commercial buildings in the area, ensuring comfortable and efficient living for inhabitants.

From providing scheduled repairs and maintenance, handling large-scale installations, offering disaster-proof solutions according to local dynamics to being available during emergencies - these professionals make significant contributions in keeping Newport Beach flowing smoothly every day.

All said, when picking a Newport Beach plumbing company, remember that their range of services ought to cover your specific needs alongside servicing with integrity driven by industry standards for more sustainable results.

ePIPE - Pipe Restoration Inc. Address: 2926 W Pendleton Ave, Santa Ana, California, 92704 Phone: (714) 888-7758

[hotflushplumbing]

Reliable Plumber in Hampton-Quick Solutions for All Plumbing Needs

Looking for a trustworthy plumber in Hampton? Whether it’s a simple leak, a blocked drain, or an urgent repair, skilled plumbers in Hampton are here to help. With services ranging from regular maintenance to emergency fixes, they tackle all types of plumbing issues efficiently and professionally. Local plumbers know the unique needs of Hampton homes, whether it’s dealing with hard water build-up or seasonal plumbing challenges.

Routine maintenance, such as drain cleaning and water heater checks, can prevent costly repairs down the road. And if you're planning a kitchen or bathroom remodel, a knowledgeable plumber can ensure that new installations are set up for long-lasting performance.

In emergencies, a Hampton plumber’s quick response can make all the difference, stopping problems like burst pipes or overflowing drains before they cause extensive damage. Reliable, licensed, and committed to customer satisfaction, Hampton plumbers offer clear pricing and thorough service. Don’t wait for a minor issue to turn into a major hassle-contact a Hampton plumber today for dependable, quality solutions that keep your home safe and comfortable.

[joplumbing]

Navigating Common Drainage Issues: Expert Insights and Solutions

Uncover essential guidance on identifying and addressing common drainage problems that could impact your home or business. From blocked drains due to various obstructions like grease, hair, and foreign objects, to issues caused by heavy rainfall and broken pipes, learn how to effectively manage these challenges. Whether you're in Melbourne or its suburbs, including Forest Hill, Lysterfield, and Hampton Park, discover how professional plumbing services, such as cistern repairs, dishwasher installations, water tap repairs, and emergency plumbing solutions, can safeguard your property's drainage system.

For more details, visit J.O. Plumbing. plumber lysterfield,

[titanplumbingau]

How Can You Prevent the Negative Consequences of A Blocked Drain?

Let's face it, no one wants to deal with clogged drains on their own, and it's pointless to put yourself and your family in danger. Most of the time, the necessity for drain cleaning isn't apparent until the threat lying beneath a clogged drain causes damage to anything. What's the worst part? Some of the dangers of clogged drains go unnoticed, yet they can cause significant health concerns for you and your family.

If left ignored, a clogged drain can cause a slew of problems in the home and cost a small fortune. To summarise, it is preferable to avoid having your drains clogged by using the Blocked Drains Hampton service to keep them flowing smoothly and continuously.

Top 5 Side Effects of Blocked Drains:

1) Risk to One's Health

Blocked drains can adversely impact your health. It causes the growth of bacteria that leads to diseases and allergies because waste material builds up in pipes. When the sewage and waste flow back into the sinks, it has bacteria, airborne allergies, skin inflammation, and irritation. Thus, for the sake of the health of your family, you should get Blocked Drains Hampton service so that your home is hygienic again.

2) Icky Smell

When drains become clogged, water and waste build up inside the pipes, causing foul odours. These odours result from dried-out pipes that aren't receiving any water flow. If there's a significant blockage in your pipes, running hot water down the drain right after can assist disintegrate the material and preventing a blockage. If you can't reach the hair or the gadgets aren't operating correctly, you should contact a Licensed Master Plumbers expert.

3) Structural Damage

Along with the risk of damage from leaks, water collection near the house's corners and base compromise the structure's integrity. This type of damage and deterioration in the house's structure is a serious problem, and another reason why overlooking drainage pipe blocking is not a good idea.

4) Aesthetic Damage

Pipes start making a peculiar noise when the humidity rises, and it smells musty, but it can worsen. Clogged drains can also have an aesthetic impact on your property, as water stains and discolouration can all detract from the appearance of your home.

5) Slodelen

A clogged drain's most visible result is a congested drainage system. Clogged drains slow dirt and water flow consider the worst-case scenario: clogs progressively establish a breeding ground for bacteria, necessitating prompt removal of the obstruction by a Blocked Drains Cheltenham service specialist who will come and clear the blockage – and make sure it doesn't happen again.

End of the Buzz,

When blocked drains can become a real big problem, remember that calling a professional Blocked Drains Hampton for assistance is safer than attempting to fix the problem yourself. DIY has to cause unanticipated damage or costly difficulties. It is the most successful technique for persuading yourself that prevention is always the best option, so clear any clogs in your home as soon as possible.

Source: https://plumbermelbournearea.home.blog/2022/02/07/how-can-you-prevent-the-negative-consequences-of-a-blocked-drain/

[ameliyalanne]

With over 15 years of experience, Our blocked drain professionals Hampton Park residents can rely on us for a high-quality service. Contact us now.

[dk-sims]

Hi everyone

I’ve decided to un-launch my Patreon page. While I am so thankful for the generosity of all of my Patreons, the page was never created for that purpose (my content has always and will always be free) yet you guys are still just supporting me anyway, you are amazing. Thank you. I’m still in shock that you guys actually like my creations. I never thought I’d get 100 followers on Tumblr, let alone 11k! Lately I just do not have the time, patience or inspiration to create. I have been pausing the billing cycles but people have still been signing up as Patreons, so instead I have just closed it.

Don’t get my wrong, I did enjoy creating and it really did help get me through 9 months of lockdown and the depression of my career being pulled out from under me. I’m just so drained.

But for those wondering, not to worry - I have moved all of the files to SFS and have linked them all below in a complete portfolio archive, with links to the original posts with all of the info.

Thanks again to those who have been nothing but supporting 🧡  Appreciate you so much.

______________________________________________________________ - Please see original posts for any mesh and/or EP requirements - I will not be checking my inbox - Remember that all troubleshooting questions are already answered on my FAQ page.  - Files will not be updated if broken by updates (way to avoid this happening below) and links will not be reposted if broken - No, I will not upload to MediaFire. If you get an error from SFS, just click the back button once or twice and it will download! - My TOU still stands. I’ll still be around and I will still see if they are not being abided by.  -  Before running any TS4 updates, first move your downloads folder out of the EA folder eg. to your desktop. Run and install the update, launch game, re-enable mods and exit. Move your downloads folder back in (replace the one that has been created from launching the game - it will be empty). Voilà, game is updated and no CC is broken!

______________________________________________________________ BUILD

Boho Wall Murals | SFS Brighter Whites Build Set | SFS Cafe Murals | SFS Farmhouse Tiles v1 | SFS Farmhouse Tiles v2 | SFS Glass Fish Scale Tile Walls | SFS Glass Herringbone Tile Walls | SFS Kids’ Map Murals | SFS Map Murals | SFS  Mega Wall Set (incl. full wall subway tiles) | SFS Monochrome Colour Correction Built Set | SFS Restaurant Murals | SFS Seamless Masonry Build Set | SFS SIMcredible’s Fireplace Recolours | SFS Solar Shingle Roof Recolours | SFS Wood Panelling Feature Walls (improved) | SFS Wood Panelling Feature Walls (original) | SFS 

BUY

13P’s Built-in Wardrobe Recolours | SFS  13P’s Office Nook Recolours | SFS Anthropologie Collection | SFS Arch Decals | SFS Art Series | SFS Art Side of Life | SFS ATS4′s Bicycle Recolours | SFS Australia Unseen Landscapes | SFS Baby Announcement Letter Boards | SFS Boho Art | SFS  Boho Art II | SFS Boho Deco Dump | SFS Christmas Prints (landscape) | SFS Christmas Prints (portrait) | SFS Decorative Letters Decals | SFS  Decorative Word Decals | SFS Doormats | SFS Family Portraits | SFS Farmhouse Signs | SFS Fine Line Art | SFS Float Loungers (Scandi) | SFS Float Loungers (Summer Brights) | SFS Flower Rattan Bedhead | SFS Handwoven Basket Wall Art | SFS Johnston Sofas Recolour | SFS KaleHouse’s Bedding Recolours | SFS KaleHouse’s Nursery Recolours | SFS Letter Boards | SFS Letter Blocks | SFS Lonely Planet Travel Guides | SFS Macrame Wall Hangings | SFS Melbourne’s Brighton Beach Boxes | SFS Mini Toddler Set | SFS Mix n Match Art Series | SFS Monochrome Nursery Prints | SFS More Maps | SFS Mounted Hats | SFS Music & Movie Posters | SFS Nursery Decals | SFS Nursery Letter Decals | SFS PD’s False Creek Home Recolours | SFS PD’s Shaker Kitchen Recolours | SFS Peacemaker’s Elsie Recolours | SFS Peacemaker’s Hamptons Recolours | SFS Peacemaker’s Shaker Kitchen Recolours | SFS RSVN’s Simmer Down Kitchen Recolour | SFS Sage x Claire Nudie Rudie Bathmats | SFS Scandinavian Nursery Prints | SFS ShinoKCR’s French Country Kitchen Recolours | SFS Sims4Nicole’s Sue Toddler Bedding Recolours | SFS Typography Mega Set | SFS Wondymoon’s Germanium Kitchen Recolours | SFS

CAS

Denim Skirt (CF) | SFS Drawstring Shorts (CM) | SFS  Gorman Skater Skirts (CF) | SFS Gorman Swim Collection (T-EF) | SFS N*des Wardrobe (T-EF) | SFS Stevie Blouse (T-EF) | SFS Toddler Turbans (patterns) | SFS Toddler Turbans (solid colours) | SFS Wheels & Dollbaby Dita Cardi (T-EF) | SFS

[emilydocument]

Having a car in New York is a sin and you’re punished for it every day. 6AM the alarm goes off and I’m up and out into the cold to resentfully drive my car around the block looking for available parking on the side without street cleaning. All the other cursed car-owners are up too, in my rear view. We honk at each other, roll our eyes, throw up our hands. The smart people got up at 5AM.

Regardless, I got two parking tickets this week. And a fine for not wearing my seatbelt while parking. I’m drained of money. The devil laughs. I have to laugh.

I try and use my car for the only thing it’s good for: escaping the city on the weekend. I’ve wanted to go to Montauk for some time, inspired by a hazy memory of visiting in high school with an old and long-gone friend, and something special and singular about the rocky end to New York. In my mind, the air is salty, the water a rich navy. LL Bean catalogue vibe.

To get to Montauk you have to pass through Long Island’s sprawl of big box stores and then at some point you cross into the start of the Hamptons, stretches of pastel farm land with the occasional random giant modern art sculpture. The construction is suddenly clean and small and tasteful. I pay for gas (another car punishment) at “Hamptons gas”, a tiny gas station made of wood clapboard where everything is wiped down. Grotesque.

Being in the Hamptons also feels like (is?) a sin. Everything is so manicured, communicating a disgust with dirt, namely the dirt of the city and lower classes. It’s utopia, constructed to look nice from every angle. Here, no visible consequences of exploitation: decay, pain, struggle etc. I am stopped at a red light where on the sidewalk, a man is screaming at his tween son for doing something. The son is not behaving like a man, goofs off too much, never listens, apparently, and he is looking up to the sky with the wide, tolerating eyes of a child being disciplined. He looks around, anywhere but at his flailing father. The costs reveal themselves in private moments.

Eventually, Montauk unfolds from behind roads that snake through woods. You arrive at the top of a hill, and immediately see the ocean in the distance. It’s bluer than I remembered. It is an isolated place, somewhere you have to work to get to, so it selects for small crowds and quiet. The parking is free since I arrived so late (the trip took 2 hours, and I burned through every playlist). It’s 5PM and car sickness mounts.

I brought my camera. Immediately, I want to photograph everything and swallow this memory, wrap myself around it. I spin around capturing the panorama: lighthouse, ocean, rocks, sage green and soft sea grass, the seagulls with their black webbed feet, dipping into the water. I like the families everywhere. We all have our cameras out, all hungry to capture.

There is a specialness about the water there. It feels like the edge of the world, the kind of water you see in a different country where the Atlantic expands. Everything is darker than a regular beach because of the grey rocky shoreline. I walk along it until I reach a secluded piece of driftwood. It’s long and white, clean too, as if carved. I sit there for a while. I hadn’t dressed for the wind and hold my arms around myself.

I stay for the sunset, and the clouds turn pink against the dimming sky. Sometimes, when you are experiencing something profound you want to be witnessed. If someone was here, you could share a memory with them, and the fleeting thing suddenly starts to spread itself out and grow important, durable, a permanent part of something being built up. Instead, I have a camera. I set it on the driftwood and start to film, and then walk out towards the ocean. I turn and wave. When I check the video later, I am out of focus, a yellow blur in the distance. The camera chose to focus on the blades of grass instead, on their gentle dance in the wind.

I realize I haven’t eaten at all, and stop for dinner at a drive-in (which now means someone begrudgingly brings your baggie of food to your car window). I eat a mushy Cesar salad wrap and those seasoned waffle fries you get at the state fair. I always regret the things I buy.

On days like this, I let the loneliness reign. I’m trying to let myself feel more, and also open myself up to things that could bring floods of pain with them. A small act is this road trip, extended time alone.

One long term practice is going on dates again. A few days in, I can feel myself growing dizzy and sick at the feelings dating unearths. I am sensitive to heartbreak, which some people pathologize as “anxious attachment”. I know that I don’t want to feel so split open all the time, that I want to feel “secure” and not bogged down by desire. I am trying not to repress the difficulty of the process, but to let it arrive as a hideous monster and then grow weaker and weaker, less and less real with every appearance.

There are beautiful, interesting people everywhere, especially in this city. I am grateful to get to sit with others, our chins in our hands. We are sharing what we know, at least for now. How nice, a conversation under strung up lights, the backyard of a bar. We talk of international childhoods, the day job, weird and seedy parts of the internet. How sweet, a walk between midnight row houses, arm in arm, heading towards a basement, the music you choose to play someone new.

It’s the periods after and between, when you are washed ashore to the reality and monotony of regular life, when you find yourself all alone again, where the real effort happens. You think about the dates, about new crushes and glowing memories. Chores, another night with your book, a penciled in chat with old friends, a tired day of work. It’s here that I must find a better way of existing, “being”, finding projects that make thoughts expansive and not exclusive, that make me a part of life instead of an observer. I want to be surprised more, flow more, to feel awake, to be able to survive the feeling of the desired just outside of your reach. To get better, all I can come up with is to keep trying the next thing that is nagging you, to return to things that you’re pretty sure you love, or that you are afraid to investigate. Keep nothing hidden away: you are the opposite of the Hamptons.

You’re lonely? You want more and better? You used to be bad? Okay. Drag it out into the daylight and train your eyes directly on the truth. Sob, scream, throw up, whatever you have to do. Let this be a place to start from. Try again. Trip, fall, uncover again and again. And maybe sell your car.

[greetingsfromboston]

Summer Getaway in The Hamptons

                                              Monday, June 1st - Monday, June 15th.

HOSTED BY: @holdenchavez​ - Holden Chavez (contact for accommodation info).

LOCATION: Long Island and other areas of The Hamptons.

AGES: 21 and up.

DETAILS:

It’s been a long, draining semester of school; what better way to celebrate than enjoying some sweet freedom in the luxurious Hamptons? Check out the scenery, bask in the sun, and explore all of the hottest spots.

And if you want to drink your cares away, no one’s going to judge you!

RP Game play Time vs. Real Time:

For our muses, the event will last two weeks long (Departing June 1st and returning to Boston June 15th). However, we will be blocking off the entire month of June on the dash to let things play out so there’s no rush to finish plots. Starting July 1st we’ll return to normal dash activity, but you’re welcome to continue event threads beyond that time if you need to.

This event is completely optional, but a fun opportunity for some interesting plots! As always, interactions of all kinds are allowed; face to face convos, paras, text, chatzy (to later be posted on your blog), dash convos– whatever you prefer!

Should you have any questions, send them our way!

[superplumbernearme-blog]

Useful Tips for Hiring The Best Plumbing Services

Plumbing maintenance is needed to keep your fixtures and pipes in the right condition for efficient and smooth water or gas flow in your office, home or the proper sewage disposal. This the main reason why hiring a good plumbing company will be useful. Do not forget that you should not postpone or ignore any plumbing maintenance or repairs as it could end up being a more significant problem later on. In case the plumbing problem is not attended to at the right time, it may lead to a severe problem. You can look for the Patchogue Plumber to help you out.

A majority of people seek the services of expert plumbers only when they are faced with an emergency. But, you should get the services of  a Hamptons Plumber to carry out regular maintenance on an ongoing basis to prevent any dangerous repairs. As a result, you should search for honest plumbing service providers to assist you. Water systems in a home or office are some of the most indispensable aspects that are commonly used daily without us noticing it. Just like other systems, water supply systems can also develop problems that will need preservation services. Most people tend to try solving plumbing issues on our own. We do not notice the root cause of the problem that could have caused the one at hand. It is at this point that plumbing services are needed. You should contact a plumbing company that will be able to fix your leaking pipes, clean blocked or clogged toilets all of which are hidden in your basement and finally repair any burst pipes which could ruin your household appliances and furniture.

Plumbers who carry out plumbing jobs must have sound knowledge and practical skills which only professionals possess. Experts in the plumbing field have the most advanced tools to solve and repair huge plumbing problems using the least time possible. The most important part of calling a plumber is that they will be able to identify and fix the problem from the source. Expert companies offer a broad range of plumbing services including fixing water leaks and burst pipes. They also repair taps, toilets, install hot water heaters, carry out repairs and maintenance. Finally the are able to detect any leaks, clear any blocked drains and fit gas and others. Such companies provide emergency services when called at short notice. If you have a plumbing emergency, all you need is to call the nearest plumbing service company. Such plumbing companies will fix your problem and then give you a comprehensive reports on what the problem was and bring to your notice any hidden elements that most of use do not care much about. Discover more information here: https://edition.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/homestyle/04/18/toh.plumber/index.html.

[thefifthsister-notactive]

Coffee, Cake & Bliss

Apparently its National Spouse Day and National Chocolate Cake day?! Here’s a Caskett fic set after 7x06 to celebrate.

_______________________________________________ It was rare that she had the opportunity to sit back in the passenger seat and watch the man beside her but she found herself unable to look away. Castle drove them back to the city from the Hamptons, both so much more at ease then when they’d rushed up for their impromptu wedding and she felt like time was theirs again. 

She watched his jaw work as he said something to her, the smile that graced his lips. The light in his eyes and the ease of his shoulders, the tension that had been in them drained away. The guilt wasn’t behind those eyes anymore. He was light and carefree for the first time in weeks and she was lost in the image of him, the world outside their car whirling by but for all she cared it was just him. Her whole world came down to him.

He looked beside him, to his wife, when she didn’t answer. She was looking at him but she didn’t seem ready to answer, she was just staring at him. “Kate? What's wrong?” he asked, checking the rearview mirror to try and catch a glimpse of himself. “Have I got something on my face? Don’t tell me I nicked myself shaving again?” Kate smiled at him. “Just admiring my husband.”

He reached across the space, took her hand and gave it a squeeze. He knew how she felt. It felt like a dream. He was worried he’d wake up any moment  and realise this was an alternate universe. Again. How many times could that happen, anyway? He’d woken this morning and it had hit him. He was married. Finally married. To Katherine Beckett. His muse. Best friend. Love of his life. Now his spouse, his wife.   “I love you.” she told him. It didn’t really do justice to all that she felt. After all, he was the writer in this partnership, this marriage.She watched that smile, that beautiful, joyful smile spread even further as he pulled their linked hands to his lips and kissed her hand. “I love you too, Kate.”

“There’s a little cafe not far from here. We have time to stop off for a coffee. Keep you to myself a little longer before everyone shows up at the loft or you get called in?” He told as they neared the city. Her grin was answer enough. He pulled over when he found parking, content to walk hand in hand with her a few blocks down and not even attempt to try to find parking closer in this part of New York. He held the door for her, parted with a kiss once they’d entered, Castle joining the queue and Kate finding them some seats, knowing for certain after all these years Castle could order well enough for her. He returned to her a few moments later, sliding two steaming cups and a slice of chocolate cake in front of her before taking the seat next to her and reached out to hold her hand.“Seeing as we didn’t cut a cake or anything, how about we share this?” She raised an eyebrow at him, teasing and reached for her coffee. “Just as long as there are no attempts to shove it in my face.” “Oh, I’m not that brave.” He raised his mug to her. Leaning over to kiss him they clinked. “Best day ever,” she whispered. “Best day ever.” Castle took a fork and lifted a piece of cake to his wife’s lips, stealing another chocolate flavoured kiss after she’d taken the bite. She took the 2nd fork and fed cake to him, content to  be lost in their newly wed bliss just a little while longer before the real world required their focus  once again.

[agent-hood]

There are Wondrous things, There are Magical things, There are Dangerous things

We get what we deserve

@the-roanoke-society

The mission was relatively easy on paper, and one Parker had been looking forward to. A possible genius loci popped up in the forests of the Pacific Northwest, and she was to go and observe. It was surprisingly hard to stumble across accidentally, but five people have still gone missing. Parker double checked her map and sighed in frustration- she had been out in the woods two days already, hiked majority of the western portion, and was no closer to stumbling upon the eldritch location than when she started. She glanced up at the sky, deciding it wasn’t too early to set up camp and transmit back her report. “Agent Hood reporting. End of day two concerning the mission, code: green-pnw. Still no sign of the target, designation ‘Eld fen’. I’ll wait another day and then try the east half. It’s frustrating,” She started. “It’s almost like the location is hiding. I’d say it sounds silly but... maybe not.” She confirmed the transmission was received and turned in early. She awoke with a strangled gasp, eyes shooting awake and body jolting in shock. For once, the first time since her incident, her slumber had been blank. No memories relived that she then had to catalog in excruciating detail, no lingering aches and pains from injuries outside this reality, just rest and slumber. Even more disorienting was that the environment around her was dark. Almost overwhelmingly so, except it was vivid as well. She could see every tree that surrounded her, every leaf on it, every star in the sky above. Two things were wrong with this: one- she had absolutely fallen asleep inside her tent (three hours ago according to her watch, but the level of pitch-black the sky was suggested it had actually been much longer) and was now outside and free of her camping accoutrements, and two- the sky was wrong. She didn’t hold the same fascination with the cosmos as Ellie did, but she was familiar enough with it to recognize that this sky was not of her world’s. There was not a familiar constellation above her, and any that could be discerned were drowned out by the overcrowded multitude of stars that seemed to blink and ripple as if they were breathing. This meant she had found the target. She was in Eld Fen. She rose to her feet slowly, feeling as sore and tired as if she ran a mile. Her walk was sluggish, but that allowed her the opportunity to take in more of her surroundings. The trees were a brackish brown, nearly red in hue, with bark soft and powdery to the touch. The leaves were an iridescent, deep purple that seemed to curl and shudder at her touch. She walked for what seemed like miles, only coming to a stop after tripping over a tree branch and getting her ankles tangled in it. “So pathetic.” A voice sneered. Parker couldn’t place it at first, not until the person came into view, which only confused her more as she had been the only one on this mission. “Morgan what’re you doing here?” “Lookin’ at the sorriest shit-show I’ve seen since the *last* time I had to bail you out of your mission.” “Morgan please, help me up I-“ “No.” Parker lowered her hand in disbelief. Morgan never had an unkind word for her, even when Parker deserved it most, so to hear her comforting drawl sound so curt was jarring. “Got a few things to say to you that’ve been jumpin’ to get out.” Parker groaned and fought to get up, more constrained by the roots than initially thought; but it was Morgan talking so she still listened intently- sure that it was important to the mission. “I shoulda left you in that ditch. Hell- I shoulda done us all a favor and slit your throat right there, saved us all the embarrassment. No one woulda found you. No one woulda cared.” The words stopped Parker. Oh god... she had always thought- but she never believed someone would have actually agreed with her. “You really think you’re so clever that we can’t see through your little act?” Ellie said. Parker tried to ask where she came from, but found herself growing too tired to question it too much. Besides she had to focus her energy on getting up. “You’re practically screaming for attention; every new conversation, every nice gesture, every. Single. Insipid. Smile. It’s all so selfish.” Parker screwed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the words, but they only drew closer. “You don’t actually care about us,” Raphaelle sneered, voice heavy with disdain. “It’s all some pathetic effort to be missed.” Parker wanted to get up and leave, argue, anything- but she was held fast in place, muscles asleep and weak. Plus... everything they were saying wasn’t exactly wrong. “You won’t be though.” It was now Ivar, staring down at her as if she were so small and pathetic. Like something to avoid on the sidewalk. ‘Not him,’ she thought desperately to herself, tears now leaking out in spite of her efforts to maintain composure. “Who could miss someone like you.” His deep voice enunciated, friendly accent gone and only sneering judgement in its place. “Cold, broken, judgmental. a little know-it-all who knows nothing. And you jumped into bed so easy- all it took was the slightest bit of affection. What does that say about you? You really think  I’m going to stay with someone who spreads her legs for a smile?” If her body held anything other than an exhausting hollowness, she’d apologize- beg for any sort of forgiveness, because they were right. Everything said was right. “You’re a blight on this agency,” Lilith said, as if she were stating a well known fact. “and you drag your mother’s legacy through the mud. So useless- you think I couldn’t have brought you back at any point? Why wouldn’t you stay gone?” “There’s a reason no one looked for you.” Kieran hissed, deep voice a twisting knife in her gut. “Dad...” She whimpered, squeezing her eyes tighter, not wanting to see how his face would twist and contort like the others. It was one continuous string of horrific familiarity; recognizable but too many eyes and teeth to be comfortable. “Any one of us could’ve went out and found you, but we didn’t. You were finally off our hands and then you had to come back. Ruined everything since- put your brother in danger because you’re such a child you need him like a safety blanket. At least until he does something you don’t like, then he’s discarded like an old toy.” His shadowy figure, blurred and amorphous but still recognizable, reached down and wrenched her face forward, fingers digging in to make sure she saw the hatred in his expression. “That’s my son.” He spat out in a whisper filled with the lethal intent she knew he was capable of when pushed to his limit. “The only reason I acknowledge you, is because he feels sorry that you’d be left out. Powerless and boring as you are, I’m ashamed.” Parker whimpered, unable to do much more than that. She saw Kieran change to Cthylla and she wanted to reach out, selfishly wanting him to stay despite all the times she told him contrary. “How dare you,” The Archivist hissed, face streaked with heartbreak. “You, a mere human, dare tread where I cannot. And dying where I cannot touch. How dare you take my love and spit in my face.” Wait... something was wrong. “You know what?” Carter started. “I’m glad you’re here, dying alone and far away from me! Maybe now I’ll finally get my own life and stop living under your fucking shadow!” “You’re not Carter.” Parker said definitively, voice weak and barely audible above a whisper, but it cut through the creature’s ranting. “That’s not how Carter feels. That’s how I feel that Carter should feel... this is all fake.” And as she said it out loud, her surroundings became clearer. Like a fog lifting, she was able to focus on more than the procession of hatred. She indeed was still in Eld Fen, alone underneath a strange sky, but she was tucked further into the roots against the horrid red tree. It seemed to exude a body-like temperature, and as She tried to pull herself free she found her body was practically caged. Entangled in it roots and covered in small, ghostly moss and luminous mushrooms ; Unsure if it was just blanketing her or growing from her. Further inspection showed that her body was emaciated, like she hadn’t eaten in two weeks, using the tree as a sort of life support with twigs digging deep into her body like IVs. That was impossible though, she hadn’t been here that long,... had she? So this was how she was going to die- fed on by a parasitic forest. This time she hoped she’d disappear with no trace, that no other agent would investigate and fall prey to this place. She would have been surprised at her calmness when faced with her imminent death but... she really couldn’t feel anything, even calm took effort. She closed her eyes in an attempt to slip away when she heard a frantic snuffling beside her. She managed to smile and whisper out Hampton’s name, having forgotten that he would be the last thing she sees when he comes for her. Always a good boy. Hampton began digging and pawing at the plants and lichen that enveloped her, pushing most of it away. Soon her body was free of most of its entrapments and enough of her strength returned to grasp onto his fur so he could drag her away. The farther she got from the tree the better she felt... to a point. She was definitely weak and drained, but now that she had her emotional and mental facilities back, she was pissed. She searched her pockets and was gratified to find her lighter. Normally she held a bit more reverence for nature and the delicate balance it held, which had only been reinforced by her training and dealings with the fae. But this forest needed to fuck right off. Despite the unsettling wetness of the tree, She successfully managed to start a solid fire underneath the roots, in the make-shift cradle where it caged her. Satisfied it would catch and spread, her only clue to this being a high-pitched shriek coming from... somewhere. she clung tightly to her wonderful, beautiful dog and allowed herself to rest, trusting him to take her where he may. ~ She came-to to heavy, comforting weights pinning her down. Hampton was dutifully laid across her feet, keeping her warm, and Carter was wrapped carefully around her, gangly limbs arranged so as not to disturb the various IVs and machines she was hooked up to. Ivar was on her other side- clinging to her as much as he could while still being confined to his chair- which meant he had been here long enough to not visit his main charging station. The walls were lined with chairs and shelves full of differing balloons and bouquets, all wishing her a speedy recovery. She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across her face, fueled by a re-invigoration she hadn’t realized she had been so missing. Unhooking herself as quietly as she could, she snuck out of the medical bay, only alerting Hampton (who immediately and silently stuck by her side) to the fact she was now up and about. It must have been in the earliest hours of the morning, as the hallways of the manor were dark and quiet. She slowly, still exhausted and worn to her limit, made her way up to Lilith’s office, hoping to get her debriefing done while it was still fresh, but stopped short at the sound of arguing. “-the ever-loving fuck was I not called in for backup when she failed to report for 48 hours?" A voice (clearly Kieran’s) rang out, “Just because you are related to her does not-“ “Hey guys,” Parker interrupted, keeping her voice casual in an attempt to break the heated argument between her father and Lilith. “Sorry to interrupt.” “What are you doing up luv? You need to get back to-“ Kieran flustered, immediately rushing to her side to (needlessly) help prop her up. Parker interrupted him, putting a temporary stop to his worry. “I’m fine right now, I just needed to debrief- Lilith, I think there’s more to that place than we initially thought.” “Ms. Jensen surely this can wait until you’re out-processed from medical.” “No I’ll forget something and lose it by then. I’ll fill out form 87-b(103) later, promise.” The grand matriarch of Roanoke seemed flabbergasted by Parker’s insistence, having never seen the smaller woman show any measure that resembled assertiveness. She sat in the nearest chair, almost surprised she did so, and listened intently. “Ok so we thought ‘Eld Fen’ was some sort of genius loci, a part of the land that held residual energy or intelligence, but when I was being fed off of- by the way it feeds on people, it would generate hallucinations to manipulate my emotions, so maybe it feeds on those specific chemicals in the brain?” Parker shook her head and continued. “Anyways it made me hallucinate that all of you were there, not all at once, it would just pick a person and say something, really dug into my insecurities, but when it formed to Cthylla, I think it recognized her. Like, more than who she was in my life- it said something about ‘going where she could not’, so I think it knew what* she was.” “Hmm, we’ll have to ask her to see if the Ry’lethians had any sort of place known to them that was forbidden. Or persons.” Lilith agreed, already coming to the conclusion Parker had clumsily hinted at. “Kieran, do wait outside for a moment. I have some private words to impart on our Agent Hood.” He left, reluctantly, and let Parker know that he’d be right outside if she needed. “You mentioned that it made you hallucinate people you knew, I’m assuming the visions said horrible things.” “Yes ma’am. I’m not sure exactly what, but I think it fed on things like ‘deepest insecurities’ so having people you know tell you what you’ve always feared they thought would be the best way to get that.” “...May I ask if I was one of the figures you saw?” “You were ma’am.” Lillith’s face fell imperceptibly, if Parker knew better she would have guessed she was hurt by this information. “I cannot imagine what that mirage told you, but I can guarantee it was false.” Parker bit her lip and thought carefully. She could have railed against her, demanding to know about all the things the vision brought up; it was clearly weighing on her. But hearing each and every hurt she held out loud, it made it seem so much smaller than it felt. “It doesn’t really matter if it is or not ma’am. Or at least it doesn’t matter anymore, not to me.” Lilith nodded then, and in a graceful measured show of affection, took Parker’s hands in her own and squeezed them. She punctuated the gesture with a soft kiss, brushing her knuckles with firm lips and clemency. But if she was granting or asking for it, Parker didn’t know. It wasn’t her place to.

[sian22redux]

Pretty Woman

For  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan ‘s  Body Positivity Challenge.

Pairing:  Plus size reader x Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Setting: Post Infinity War, the world has magically gone back to normal…

Rating: T

For the gorgeous @winters-beauty because she really likes this type of challenge.

 With a prompt like “your body is not ruined”  I know most folks are thinking of post-pregnancy or something but I’ve gone a different way, based on my own recent experiences.  This is post major illness where reader has to adjust to change. Hence some of her reactions here are based on loss of health of course, and control, and having to adjust to a new reality.  

 Fortunately her two guys have some experience with that.  

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

“Help!!”

The panicked cry that suddenly tumbles from your mouth brings your boyfriends running from the living room.

“Y/N?! Jarvis!?”  Steve is the first to skid to a halt at the bedroom door, blond brows creasing in anxiety and hands glued to the frame, ready to propel himself against whatever threat lurks inside.  His frown and tanned bulk take up all the open space, block the escape route as he quickly scans the room, reconning automatically for any one of several unpleasant situations.  

Intruder?  

Explosion? 

Lethal virus?

Nope.  

Nothing quite so deserving of an American hero’s skills.

Just your dumb rotten luck.  

“All is secure, Captain Rogers,” intones Jarvis mildly from above the massive closet door and you almost, almost laugh, because-- secure.   Great choice of verb.   Thanks.  Thanks so very much.  Now the AI is making jokes..

Bucky arrives a heartbeat behind and elbows Steve aside, squeezing through to stand worriedly at the cream carpet’s edge.  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?!!!

James Buchanan Barnes allegedly has super-vision.   How can he not fricken’ see?!  

“I’m stuck!!!”

You stand poised in the middle of your bright and airy Tower bedroom wondering how life came to this.  There’s a tankini top caught about your chest and upper arms that’s mashing tender skin. The matching boxer briefs are wedged halfway up your ample thighs, their blue elastic pinching so hard it just might bruise.  

Secure.  

Yup.  

Impossibly. Hopelessly. Secure.

The frustration of this new reality makes you want to howl but it is the humiliation of standing there, inextricably pinned by two small scraps of cloth, that sends the tears silently coursing down your cheeks.   It was hopeless from the start.  There is no way you will get your one and only (and favourite) bathing suit on.  

Now, or possibly forever.  

The realization is truly sinking in.

“My body is ruined!”

Your plaintive wail jerks Bucky into action.  He leaps forward, slips both arms around your shoulders, braces you upright, murmuring “No doll, your body is not ruined,” softly against your hair, stroking your shuddering back as the dam bursts wide and months of pent up hurt flow out in a hiccupping, sobbing mess.  Steve, as always hyper focused on the mission, has figured out that rescue and extraction are the first priority and so he bends down and stretches the suit’s leg holes wide with his two strong hands, taking care not to tear the fabric.  Gingerly he shimmies the blue-aqua ikat print farther down-- the tugging is uncomfortable but eventually he helps you lift one foot and then the other, sets the bottoms on the bed and turns his attention to the top.  

Push, pull, wiggle—swear--- somehow he manages to remove it without tearing skin.  

You’re finally, finally free and he’s holding you, a wet and snotty, naked bundle of anxiety against his massive chest, crooning softly, “Shhh, baby, it’s ok. It’s ok.”

It’s really not.

“Here, sweetheart.”   A damp facecloth is pressed into your hand.   “Better?” Bucky’s eyes are blue green wells of hopefulness as he passes extra Kleenex for you to blow your nose and oh so delicately dabs aloe from a bottle onto the pad of his metal index finger.  

Oh god, he’s already retreated to the bathroom for supplies.   Each ensuing whisper light, achingly considerate touch of cool against the red welts upon your skin makes you want to tear up again.  Inside the chill, implacable shell of the Winter Soldier there had been trapped the world’s sweetest, gentlest man.  One who has a need to help, cannot stand to see anyone even slightly hurt, and the thought that he’s so tenderly helping you just slays you.  

Sniffing loudly, you dab your eyes and try to smile a little brokenly because you are beyond grateful but also, this is all so wrong.  “Thank you.”

Bucky nods.  Dark and gold, your boys rotate around and now Steve is at your back.  He sits on the one free bit of bed and pulls you down onto his lap with Bucky crouching down beside.  

Both are tense—and worried.  You’ve all been so looking forward to this break—to the Memorial day getaway that Tony is throwing at his Hampton house.  Laid back, weathered wood and chicly elegant white and grey, it is a sprawling haven. Rattan loungers surround an endless pool.  Acres of green lawn will host hilariously drunk croquet.  The beachside fire will glow below a vault of coruscating stars.  

Perfect and all perfectly organized by your boss, Miss Potts.  

Wheels up is at six.  

The sun is climbing quickly to its zenith, baking New York’s already heated streets and anyone who can is trying to find relief.  Bucky’s got on a linen shirt and dark boardshorts.  Steve is as dressy as he ever is in grey t-shirt and zip-off cargos.  You would have donned your sundress by now but around the three of you lie scattered a flurry of discarded summer clothes—like so much sediment rained out of a clear blue sea 

Not a single item fits.  

You’ve been sick for months.   Actually a year.   Have lost the permanent lines of pain and the wan pale skin of too much time indoors but still you are not yourself.  Eight months of steroid treatment have left you drained.  Bloated.   Living in your housecoat and nightclothes on a bad day and in sweats when it’s good.  

The fact that this is the first big event since you’ve been somewhat well stares you in the face.  Online you’d bought needed winter things but no warm weather items yet.  You’d been holding off in the faint hope you’d lose a little more.  But summer is arrived—early and abruptly--quite rudely without consideration of your schedule.  A drizzly week ago the mercury had barely climbed to sixty.   Now it’s a sweltering 82 

“I can’t go.”  

You hate yourself for saying it out loud but a little tendril of relief coils up.  You literally can’t get your suit on.  What will you do?  Hide in the house in jeans and rolled up sleeves?  Flounder in one of Steve’s fabled smedium T-shirts?  Wear one of Bucky’s as a dress??

Cocooning the whole time in the air conditioning feels as if it is giving in to debility once again.

“Steve, will you tell Tony that I’m sick?”

You twist round to catch his gaze but immediately you hear Bucky’s snarking response beside.  “Oh yeah, ask him to fib.  The one with experience lying on his forms.”

“Punk.”  

“Jerk.”   

“Hey!  I’m not the one who has the world bamboozled into thinking that I’m squeaky clean.”

“Fuck off, Buck.”

“Bingo!”

They’re quite the team---put on the squabbling couple act to try to cheer you up and you can’t help it, you shake your head in fond exasperation.  The thoughtfulness is sweet, but still, there’s a little hollow in your stomach.  They’ve done this so very much in the past few months the routine is pitch perfect every time.  

“You are meatballs, the both of you.”  

Bucky shrugs and gives a wry half smirk but Steve sighs heavily, running a soothing hand across your neck where the nerve pain has been worst.  “Your meatballs, Y/N.  But Baby, why?  You’re not hurting badly are you?”

Oh god.   Of course Steve’s going to worry about your symptoms.  Checking in, adjusting to their ups and downs, has become automatic.  You remember for a moment that first night of terror: the sudden jolt as if you’d been hit by a cattle prod, the fuzzy return to consciousness, speech slurred, left arm dead, a raging headache piercing through your skull and radiating down your neck.  Steve yelling at Jarvis to get the EMTs, all but certain it was a stroke. The week in hospital and months horizontal after that.  One night of terror turns into every night.  The seizures hit like clockwork.  Make you afraid to fall asleep because you’re going to get that same electrical shock to brain and the spreading flush of pain.   Every damn night.   Your arm, thankfully, comes back but that doesn’t stop it’s throbbing for a moment.  You feel guilty all the time because they are doing everything. Making meals. Cleaning.  Laundry.  Shopping. Shuttling you to doctors.  One of them insists on staying back from missions because you need so much help.  Neither will let anyone else but them take care of you most days, and so the Avengers do their best.  Run errands and make meals.  Read to you when the headache makes words slide across the page.  Distract Steve and Bucky with needed sparring bouts when all you can do is be still and quiet in a darkened room.  

While the medical team tries cocktails of different things, you all wait and hope.  Hoo boy is that fun.  There’s the one that makes you stoned.   The one that doesn’t work at all but gives you vertigo.  The one that works too well and makes you sleep twenty hours out of twenty-four.  The big gun intravenous med has Shield Medical quickly flushing you with ice water as you break out in hives and wheezing.   It’s supposed to slow the reaction down and so the intern stands frowning at the ensuing full body shaking, wondering if it’s progressed to an anaphylactic phase.

Buck speaks up right away when you can’t answer through chattering teeth. “It’s hypothermia.  You’ve cooled her down too fast.”

“Hypothermia?!”

“Trust me. I’ve seen it.”  

You’d all laughed grimly about that one afterward.  Finally, finally there came the med that worked.   The one that you’ll take forever.  It’s literally saved your life but this miraculous godsend is not without its downside.  

It’s number one side effect is weight gain.

Your gaze falls on the forlorn heap of lycra.  Pretty. Flattering to your curvy figure that both guys love.  It shows off your assets perfectly.  

But is now probably four sizes smaller than you need.

Would it be too much for life to not pile this on you too???   You take a deep breath and try to regain some equilibrium.  You don’t want either Steve or Buck to worry—to think that you aren’t well—but this particular problem isn’t one they’ll have not thought much on before.  “No,” you answer slowly. “It’s not that, I feel ok.” Two sets of shoulders droop, relieved. “But I can’t go in winter clothes. And I have nothing that will fit.”    

This not the cry of a spoiled pampered thing who just wants something new. Literally nothing fits.  Not shorts or skirts. Your favourite capris won’t go past your hips.  The dresses don’t do up.  Even the light evening sweater that doesn’t need to meet in front has arms so tight you’d had to peal it off inside out.  

Utterly humiliating.  

And absolutely a real and present problem.  The East coast has its first summer heat wave early.  When you asked Jarvis that morning what the temperature was outside he’d responded,  “Sir says it’s not fit for man or dog.”  

“I have to cancel going.”

Steve rises and sets you lightly on your feet.  His jaw is set, face intense and determined, and you know he’s thinking ‘no’.  That you shouldn’t give in to this disease.  Let it get in the way of life unless it’s really necessary.  

“I can’t.”   You’re pleading.  Still smarting from the too-tight straps and feeling totally demoralized. Bucky reaches out to grasp your hand while Steve pads silently over to the giant walk-in closet, rummages for the lightest weight sweats you own, holding them out hopefully. You know Tony will be so bummed. He’ll mope.  And pout.  But you can’t face it.  Hiding inside or broiling outside alongside everyone in bathing suits will only make you feel more pathetic than you already do 

You shake your head at the fuzzy mass of grey.  “You go. They’re used to me missing things.  What’s one more weekend?”

Steve sees the certainty in your eyes and does not try to argue on that point but neither does he back down.  

“We’ve just got you back.  Are so, so grateful you are ok.   We just want to see you enjoying yourself again.”  

His eyes are dark like a midnight sea.  Bucky is nodding, setting the sweats aside and handing you your undies and loose shirt and generous jeans from where they were flung across a chair.   When you take them and slowly begin to dress he crosses his arms, a shaft of sun winking off the metal.  

“Not without you, doll.”  

Not fair.  Those are words he knows will work, go straight to the heart of the little triad you have built, and then Steve of course piles it on.   “That’s right.  You don’t go, we don’t go.  We are a team.”  

Amazing, remarkable, wondrous stubborn idiots.  They are awfully hard to cross when they gang up.  

Nervously, you smooth down your dark ponytail and take a steadying breath. “I know.  It’s just…”  

What?   Too hard?

You look at the two gorgeous and true men you are all but married to. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d wind up here.   Assisting (and being a good friend to) Pepper Potts while she assists the world.  Living in Avengers Tower.   Smoothing out the rough between two lovers who have dared time and space to be together.   They need you so very much that they’ve taken a risk on something quite unorthodox, and though sometimes it makes you want to pinch yourself, lately you’ve just wanted wake up out of the nightmare.  Focusing on yourself.  And forgetting how much they sacrifice.  

Every day.  For everyone.

You swallow hard, trying to gather the shreds of your confidence and explain the lump that sits brooding on your chest.  “I didn’t anticipate this would happen.  Didn’t think ahead.”  

Steve smiles sadly, and you let him take you in his arms, kiss the top of your head and pull back to look sombrely down again.   “Y/N, you’ve been so strong.  So incredible.  And Buck and I have watched you wrestle with this thing, amazed.  Proud of your will to find a way.  It should have made you crazy long ago and I get it.  I do.  This feels like too much.  This one extra thing.”  

Your nodding, realizing that if anyone does understand it’s him. Steve lived with chronic illness.  Several of them in fact.  Asthma. Heart arrhythmia. Scoliosis. Anaemia.  Ulcers.  All of them had plagued him for most of the twenty-five years before the serum.

You’ve been in the fight for not even two.  

“But what am I going do?” you whisper a little mournfully.   If you have to you’ll wear your sweatpants.  Maybe you can cut them off?  Maybe you can cut the arms off your tops?  They’ll look hideous but you won’t broil like a lobster in a pot.  “Can we butcher something that already fits?”

“No, Y/N, not necessary.”  Steve checks his watch and glances to the lightweight packs stacked neatly by the door. “T minus six hours.  There’s lots of time.  I’m packed and so is Buck.  Betcha we can get you stuff and be back by two.”

“Stuff?”  Does he realize what he’s saying?  Four days worth of clothes?  When you need every little thing?

Bucky, curls in behind, chuckling at the incredulity in your tone. “We all can do it baby.  In record time.  And the one of us with taste will even help you pick outfits.”

“Hey!”  Steve, mock-affronted, swats him on the rear.  

From your safe spot in the middle of the sandwich you heave a sigh. Perhaps just a suit and top and shorts would be enough.  The weekend’s casual.  You can get away without a dress.  Survive being seen in the same clothes for days.  The guys do it on missions all the time and heck, Clint lives in black and purple. And Thor in red and silver.

Bucking up your courage, you scrub the wet from your cheeks and are about to acquiesce when something Steve said pings.  

It’s Bucky who is the clothes horse.  Knows his style.  Enjoys taking risks.  Steve is simpler.  He gravitates to clean lines, simple shirts and slacks.  Nothing flashy but he appreciates well made.

He’ll accept finer things that you bring him home but if it’s left to him—it’s online all the way.  

He loathes shopping.  

With the fiery passion of a hundred suns.  

“All?” you ask, incredulous.    

“Yup.  We are team. All three of us will help.”  Steve cocks his head and stares up to the ceiling. “Jarvis can you patch me through to Tony?”

“Right away Captain.”

From above, you catch Pepper’s clear, ringing tones behind Tony’s rapid-fire, just slightly high and excited baritone “Stark’s house of mojitos and margaritas. What’s up Rogers?  We’re pre-drinking here. I’m collecting the eye-watering Hawaiian shirts and Pepper’s making me put the new toys back.”  

“Anthony!”  Pepper is mortified.  You’re blushing and Bucky barks out a laugh.  Steve’s shaking his head and grinning ear to ear, but truthfully the thought of Tony Stark tinkering with items from Frisky Friday?  

Should make all of you a little scared.

“Tony do you still have that limo?”

“Of course I do, Captain Obvious.  Bentley’s Mulsanne for eight.  Tan leather.  Naim audio and bluetooth headphones.  Retrofitted with Stark screens of course.  Whhhyyyyyy?”  

The insatiably curious head of your group absolutely has to know.

Steve grins and pops a quick kiss on your nose.  “We need it.  We’re going on an emergency shopping trip.

The reaction from two floors up is immediate.  

“Holy shit!”

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

Of course Tony calls ahead.  

You stand in the bright but not too intimidating plus size boutique attended by the solicitous and friendly owner.  She is very nice. You force yourself not to apologize, to not make excuses for your size.  It’s ridiculous.  Being not thin is not a crime.  Or a tragedy. Or even actually a choice but it is so hard to go against the conditioning of thirty years.  

Why are you letting all that crap get inside your head? Ridiculous.  Time to be positive and so you force yourself to relax and let yourself be waited on.    

The owner brings armloads of practical and pretty and flattering styles that mix and match—can be a basis to add to later.  For two hours Steve and Bucky sit in the ‘boyfriend chairs’ and help.. Steve has a black-one sugar coffee, Bucky has a latte and his phone is in his hand. He’s helpfully checking for the latest styles..offering opinions as you come out and model each new thing.   They’re both laughing and joking, trash talking each other’s sense of style and seemingly enjoying the experience as you try on an entire wardrobe.  Two bathing suits, two shorts, navy capris, four tops, one light coverup and two sundresses.   In basic colours that all go together and will get you at least through a week with washing once.

“That’s enough,” you insist, feeling a bit tired and hot from all the changing, wondering what the damage to your credit card will be.  You haven’t worked since all this landed down.  And though Stark Industries has great disability insurance, you feel like you shouldn’t go too nuts.

“But you should have one tank, I think” the owner adds, frowning thoughtfully at all the cap-sleeved tees.  “In case there is a day that is very hot.”

Hmm. She has a point.  The weekend is slated to go from broiling to thermonuclear, but you’d steered away from thinner straps, a little worried at how they’d look.

“Go for it, Y/N!”  Bucky enthuses and Steve nods encouragingly and so you warily take a few wider banded versions into the dressing room.  Tug them down over your head, prepared for a pair of hastily stifled frowns.  

The reaction you get is not what you expect.    

Steve’s frowning, concentrating seriously like you’ve never seen, asessing the three different combinations like the fate of the world is riding on this choice. Finally he speaks up.  “I really like that one.”

You turn to give yourself a better view in the three way mirror.  The actually super comfortable white shorts have a broad waistband that flexes gently and doesn’t bind.  They’re topped by a just slightly flared, surprisingly flattering tank in black with grey overstitching.   Modern and sleek, it moves with you–and as you move Steve’s nodding.  

You glance back at Buck.  His head is tilted, long hair falling across his face as he peruses the combo with as much consideration as he gives a gun.  Which means serious consideration.  “The shape is great, Y/N, but the colour isn’t right.”  He rises up and heads unerringly for the rack it came from, picking out the same top in pale shell pink and walking back, holding it up against your shoulder.  “I think this is better against your colouring.“

You’re amazed.  Now that is getting into the spirit of the thing but still you bite your lip, thinking black is more neutral, but what do you have to lose? Why not try?

When you return and show it off, Steve smiles and the owner looks admiringly at Bucky and nods her head. “You are exactly right Mr. Barnes and pink is this summer’s colour.”

He is right, it’s a warmer tone and makes your skin look less sallow.  You feel better in it.  Surprisingly.  The top goes into the keep pile and Bucky grins, sitting down and stretching out, lacing his hands behind his head and making a face at Steve as if to say ‘I’m not the one to steer you wrong.’  

The gesture gets Steve’s dander up.  The game is on, and no one, no one, gets more competitive then Steve Rogers when he is the mood.  

“Try this…”  

Oh my god he’s actually picked up a sheerly pretty, ice blue strappy top from a rack, the dainty hanger looking hilariously tiny in his massive hands.   Can you wear something that—delicate?   Your brain had been kind of thinking of a heavier cover up….  

“Try it baby.”  He looks so sure of himself and Bucky’s nodding encouragingly and the owner is saying how the only rule is ‘do you like it?” and so you put it on.  The slightly ruffled asymmetric edges look sexy and cool against jean shorts and all of you agree---- it and the shorts are perfect.  

Both are to be kept but then Bucky will not be outdone.  He stalks around the shop, metal fingers quickly riffling through the wares, obviously searching for something exactly right.  

The owner hovers politely just behind.  “Mr. Barnes? Can I help.”

“Bucky,” he answers automatically.  “Nope. I will know it when I see it. 

Finally he pulls out a complicated looking fall of pale leaf green and holds it up.   It’s gorgeous.  And absolutely sexy.  A halter top that falls softly to a just slightly fuller base.   With an oval opening in the back and cut-out, slightly gathered sleeves that will leave your shoulders and upper arms quite spectacularly bare.  

You shake your head.  “I can’t.”  

“It will be perfect with your eyes.”  He’s right on that—it will bring the green highlights in your hazel eyes to life, but it’s seems waaay too revealing.  Your upper arms aren’t toned.  Your collarbones don’t show.  Your…

“Y/N?”  Steve rises and slides over to give your shoulders a quick reassuring squeeze.   His ocean eyes are pleading like a puppy dog’s.  “Please?  I’d love to see you in it.”

How can you resist both of them?

Cautiously you come back out and give a little twirl.  It’s flirty and sexy and both guys’ eyes light up right away.  

“Wow.”  

Their comment is in unison.  It is really, really nice, flirty and soft and it makes you even feel a little sexy.  Steve says he also loves the blocky heeled, buff sandals the owner has paired it with.  Bucky is raving about the stretch skinny jeans.  You frown at the size of the ‘keep’ pile.  

It’s growing.  The owner has suggested a really workable set of combinations and there is even a silky printed scarf to give one dress a little bling for evening.  

The thought of the bill is a little daunting but you do need longer pants if one evening turns out cool…

Bucky leans back in the chair and confidently crosses his arms across his chest.  “Buy it all, Y/N.”   Steve nods and gives you one of his precious sunrise smiles.   “We’re a team.  We’ll divide the bill up equally.  Don’t stint yourself.”  

That is so considerate and so very generous.  “You don’t need to…” you begin, but Steve cuts you off.   “We do.  We want you to feel comfortable and relaxed in what you wear, too feel confident.   We can afford it,” he adds and Bucky laughs. 

“Easily.  All he ever buys is paint and vinyl records.”

Steve rolls his eyes.  “And all he ever buys is knives and books.”  

True.  But not necessarily a reason for them to spoil you.  

Bucky turns and takes your hand in his metal one, raises it to his lips and plants a kiss, cementing the argument with one last, cajoling grin.  “After all you’ve been through don’t you think you deserve a treat?”  

Your heart melts a little bit.  Well. Then.  

The loot is packaged up and rung through while you change into a sundress and leave the baggy sweats behind.

Outside the limousine driver nods appreciatively when you climb into the butter soft back seats with what feels like a mountain of tissue-covered packages.  It’s Barry. The soft spoken, grey bearded gentleman who had taken you to the rare doctor visits neither Steve or Buck could attend.  

“Miss Y/N, you look lovely. So nice to see you looking well.”  

Wow.

“Did you pay him?” you hiss to Bucky as you follow a laden Steve up into to the steel cocoon of the private elevator.

“Nope, doll, I sure didn’t.”

-------

Once you are ensconced back in your room again, the guys go off to see if Pepper needs any help while you take another run at packing.  There’s no time to triage.  All the small things that don’t fit are unceremoniously bundled by the armload and stuffed into bags to store.  You set the small suitcase on the bed and start to transfer the new items in.  Dresses and pants on the bottom.  Tops and shorts and smalls rolled up to make up space.  Your toiletries go next.  And then your meds.  Six pills a day on top of the injection.  It comes with its own travel pack—freezer bag to keep it cool, mini disposal for the cartridges.  You tuck in your flip flops and eye the new sandals that Steve liked so much.  Should you bring them?  Will there be a chance to wear them?  Can you walk in heels for long after a year of bunny slippers 

Will anyone notice with Nat’s and Maria’s killer bodies in swimsuits?  

With Pepper in her perfect three inch heels?  

Who are you kidding?  They are all so gorgeous and thin and fit and you are white like a beluga whale. Of course all of them will be so nice, will go out of their way to make positive, encouraging remarks.  Of course Thor, oblivious, will make booming allusions to some obscure ancient goddess of fertility. Of course Tony, overcompensating, will ridiculously call you Marilyn, and Raquel and.. and…

Your courage throws a wobbly.  

You are wearing the new sundress with the yellow print.  It’s presentable and even pretty but turning now in front of the long length mirror that you’ve avoided looking in for months, you see it.  

The rolls that dip and dive along your back.  The bow outward of the bodice where your stomach sags.  Even with this being size XL. 

Dissolving onto the nearby bench, you place your hands across your face and struggle not to cry.  You love the Stark Beach House.  It was actually the place you first realized the months long flirtation with the Avengers’ supersoldiers was more than a bit of harmless fun.  Under hazy stars and moon, the softest of night breezes, you’d raised your cocktail to your lips and caught their eyes meet in glance.  Accept the truth.  Find the courage to admit.

They’d fallen.  For you, just as you had for them, and no matter how complicated, how messy it is to be three they wanted this.  The whole world knew Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are an item.  Indivisible and forged like steel by the vicissitudes of life. It just didn’t know they felt incomplete without a third.  Someone softer.   Who could fill in the chips and hollows, let them focus on something other than themselves. 

One different man came out of Greenland’s ice.  

One different man came out of Siberia’s wastes.  

Both of them understand in their DNA how hard it is to start again. That you are mourning.  For a life that is irrevocably changed.   No one’s breathed a word of you returning to work as yet but you know it will be hard.  Some mornings you’ve staggered into the common room, dopey from the night time meds and poured coffee into your orange juice.   Some weeks doctor visits and movies dates are equally lost in fog.  

Steve says not to worry, take baby steps, understand that pain builds fatigue and fatigue leads to forgetfulness but then you think of the insanely together, curvy woman with the photographic memory and talent for keeping track of every tiny detail.

Gone.  

You will never be that woman again..

You hang your head and cry.

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

  “Y/N?!”  

It’s Bucky.  He’s walking in, probably coming to see how soon you will be done and it doesn’t help. “I’m sorry. Sorry..I just…”  

He’s leaning over your half-zipped bag, biting his lip, one tendril of sable hair sweeping across his cheek.  Perfect dimple and chiselled jaw darkened by just a day or so of stubble.  

The sight catches at your breath.  

How?  How could so gorgeous, sexy a man want me??   How could Steve?  Painted golden as a perfect sunrise.  Inside and out.

The tears leak out again.  

Confused, surprised, you think, at the waterworks. Bucky straightens up.  “Baby what’s wrong?”  

You wave your hands at your body.  “You can’t find me attractive like this!   You both are so perfect and I look so…“  

Fat.  

The word is clinically quite simple but in practise it is so complicated. All too often meant to demean.  Trolls on the internet toss it negligently when they want to put someone down. ‘Fat slob.’ “Cow.’  ‘Porky’ may be gentler but the message is the same.  Appearance is all.    As if weight happens because you’re slovenly.  Or stupid.  Or worth less than someone else.  

It is so wrong but thinking judgementally is very so hard to banish when you’ve been bombarded by it for almost thirty years 

“Different..?”   Bucky’s eyebrows crash together into a familiar line of hurt.  “Y/N is that what you think our love is about?”  

“No. No!!’ you exclaim, mortified.  “I know you love me. I just..”  A little voice inside your head says ‘be honest. It’s the only way this will work.’

“I don’t want you to want me any less.”  

There.  You’ve said it.  In a whisper because it feels so unworthy.  Insignificant, when they’ve fought so hard to be together.  

But this worry has been clawing like a rat at your brain since the day you stopped being in so much pain.

Before nothing mattered but relief.  Now you feel better.  Mostly. You should want your guys, and the days you don’t feel so crap you sort of do.  

But there has been no sign of anything other than care and concern from them.  

Bucky’s face is a kaleidoscope of emotions.  Unsure of what he’ll do, you hold your breath, watch him sigh and cross over to the door. “Stevie, pal, can you come here?”  

He walks back to you with the saddest smile.  Warm and cool fingers hold your cheeks as he leans down to place a kiss upon your brow.   Hands glide down to rest upon your shoulders--the metal one, thanks to Shuri’s tech, barely heavier than the right.  

“Nothing.  Nothing could ever make me love you or want you any less.  Nothing.”  Bucky punctuates each word with a little shake.  “Wasn’t I the one who first noticed that exuberant, sexy smile?  Convinced Steve to take a chance?”  

You nod hesitantly.  He had been, and flirted too.  Hilariously. Brazenly.  You’d been so shocked.  It wasn’t until Steve ‘my tongue ties when I have to talk to women’ Rogers was enthralled, quizzing you about your peripatetic upbringing as unofficial assistant to globe-trotting famous scientist parents that you accepted it might be real.  He had touched your arm so casually and easily, fingers brushing lingeringly as he passed over a new drink, smile quirking just a touch seductively.

Magic.  And utterly irresistible.

It felt a lifetime between then and now, but in truth it was just three years.  

Steve arrives, exchanges an almost telepathic glance with Buck and quickly picks up the gist, reads the situation like a book as only he can do.  He leans in to hold his hand against your cheek, while the other cradles loosely at Bucky’s waist.  “You look beautiful.  And edible…” The feather touch wills a little of his certainty to seep in.  “Y/N, what makes you think that only one size is sexy?”  The genuinely bewildered tone usually reserved for odd parts of disco culture comes out.  This is one of the things that gets Steve’s dander up.  Disappoints him that it hasn’t progressed after seventy years of nap.  “That is flat out wrong.   Bigger or smaller, anything outside the ‘norm’ is bad. It’s crap.”

“Girls don’t get criticized for being skinny,” you blurt, not quick enough to block it in.  You flush, but in your defense.. it is true.  “There is no such thing as too thin for the magazines.”

“Screw the magazines,” Mr. ‘fight me’ growls.  “No one should be criticized for their body shape.”  

Bucky’s nodding.  “It is so demeaning.  In our time girls were made to feel inadequate for not being built like Rita Hayworth.  Flat chested was considered a disaster.  Guys were ragged on if they weren’t built like George Atlas.”  His gaze turns serious and he pulls you little circle closer, prosthetic hand tight on Steve’s shoulder, hair swaying back and forth as he vigorously shakes his head.  “That just isn’t how attraction works.  I have loved and wanted Steve since he was tiny as a matchstick.  So emaciated his hip bones fucking hurt when we were fucking.”

You gasp at the explicitness of the imagery.  Oh lord.  Yes that paints a picture.  Bucky grins and looks adoringly up at his boyfriend.  “I wanted him anyway.”

Steve drops a searingly hot kiss onto Buck’s lips before tearing his own away.  “You did.   Every day and twice on Sundays.”

This is not an earth-shattering revelation.  Bucky is the one with the raging libido.  ‘Hair trigger’ describes pretty much every part of him and honestly, you’d been too.   Before.  It was Steve who sometimes had too much in his head to play. Could not let the day’s anxieties quite go.  Wound himself in strategy until it took two to pull him down—a lion and lioness on their prey.  

The pair of them sexy snarking once again feels so good.  It’s been on hard mute of late.  

Steve runs a thumb thoughtfully across your lower lip.   “He loved and wanted me.  As I was..  Just like I love him for him.  And love you for you.”  The thumb trails down and deliberately runs along your collarbone, leaving precious, welcome little shivers in its wake.  “Y/N you are so sexy.  In every way. Every bit of you.  There is nothing to be unsure about.  You— curvy as you are,   you are perfect.   If we’ve held back from showing you, it’s because we didn’t want to pressure you into something if you weren’t ready.”  

Of course he has it exactly right.  Before, the constant pain and migraines had demolished your libido.  Constant worrying about you had killed theirs.  Bucky takes a deeper breath, leans in to leave a trail of butterfly kisses on your shoulder.  “I’m sorry we didn’t speak up sooner.  There is no way that you could look that would stop us wanting you.”    

He is reading your mind again—seeing that you worry your condition will change with time.  Relapse. It’s hard to entirely banish that fear.   “I’m not gonna go back the way I was,” you say forlornly.  

Steve hums and buzzes a sympathetic kiss upon your neck.  “Mhmmm.  The drug’s changed your metabolism… My serum won’t change either. Or Buck’s.”

“Don’t be so sure with Hydra tech,” Bucky mutters below his breath and Steve rolls his eyes expressively.   “The point is our change is permanent too.”

“But that’s not the same!”  You’re trying to not let your mouth hang wide open.  “You are both perfect since your change.  You’re gorgeous!”  

“So are you.”  Steve punctuates each word with a kiss.  “I get it, sweetheart, I really do. I don’t always love this body either.  Sometimes it just feels like a freak show, but I’ve learned to accept it’s me.”  

Steve? A freak?  This is not an adjective you associate him with.  He’s gorgeous.  Stunning. A perfect specimen of masculinity and that he wouldn’t be utterly thrilled to step into a machine and come out magically a new man has never occurred to you.  You know it hurt.  That he suffered for it.  But the change was absolutely for the better.

“But you’re strong?  And healthy now?!” you exclaim.

“Yes, and god knows it’s better than being sick all of the damn time but it isn’t me. In my head I’m still the matchstick.  There are days when I get caught off guard.  Feel big and clumsy.  And it’s not always such a thrill.”  He pulls a pouty face.  “Can’t turn off the heat that makes you two cuddle on the other side of the bed without me.”  

Bucky bumps him in the hip.  “Awww.  Rogers, you are such a sap.”  

“Unh hunh, well I’m your sap, pal. Forever.”  Steve reaches across your shoulder to kiss Buck’s cheek but then his eyes darken seriously.  “I am hungry all the goddamn time.  And it’s a crazy waste of money to buy custom everything.  Even T-shirts for crissake.”

That makes you smile.  It’s hard to take the frugal Irish boy of the Depression out of the modern man. “I kinda like it when you don’t and wear them a little tight.”  

Bucky grins and nods.  “And your pants.”   It is Steve’s turn to bump playfully at his boyfriend’s hip. “What?” Bucky’s eyes are wide and innocent.  He turns to you and becomes more serious, letting go Steve’s waist, turning his metal hand and flexing the matt black plates.  “I get it, too.  It is not easy to become used to looking different.  Took me ages to accept my arm.”   You nod a little hesitantly. You were not there when he first came back, broke his conditioning to seek out the man he loved, beyond time and all the cycles of the world. “I wanted to hack this thing right off.  Felt as if it wasn’t me.  I still catch myself in the mirror, seeing that, despite Shuri’s good work, I’m half a cyborg with a mass of scars.”  His tone turns low and serious.  “Do you find my naked body unattractive?”  

You gasp, appalled, reaching to catch his hand.  “No! Oh god, Buck no! It’s sexy as hell.  And your scars, they’re badges of bravery!”  

His eyebrow quirks.  “Yeah, love you babe for saying so but let’s be real.  I am a mass of metal and red keloid scar tissue.  Lots of it.  It’s not exactly conventional beauty pitched in the papers or TV.”  His flesh fingers dig into the junction of the prosthesis with his pec. “The internal struts at one time went in here.  The Wakandan version is far lighter and easier but I feel it still.“  

“Buck.”   Steve’s reaches to squeeze his left bicep as Bucky sighs and then his eyes drop to catch your gaze. “It’s taken a lot of time for me to feel it’s a part of me. Accept that I am sexy with it.  Give yourself time.  You will feel it too.  There is no one size or shape for sexy.”

Steve is nodding.  “There sure isn’t.  You both look beautiful.  And I love you beyond reasoning.”  He holds your hand but leans toward Bucky, wanting to support him too.   There’s just a hint of mischevious glitter in blue eyes and his voice is rough with sudden desire. ’I remember the feel of your left arm.  But I love the one that is here right now. ”  

You watch them kiss.  Soft lips meet at first gently and then hungrily, deepening the kiss until it is a barely reigned flame of need.  So enticing. And arousing.  As always the sight leaves you breathless.  The black and gold of the prosthesis is cool below your fingertips and little arcs of light sparkle in the pale gold of Steve’s soft hair.    

They were first.  The foundation.  But you are here now, a solid point of the triangle, and you know it, yet sometimes, as now, you feel the need to let them be.   They’ve been holding off because of you, and you’re uncertain you feel ready for attention yet.  

As you start to slip below the circle of their arms, a hand snakes out.

“No, no, no. Don’t you go anywhere, Y/N.”  Bucky has broken off their kiss, moved lightening quick to cut you off.  He turns your shoulders to face Steve, runs a hand encouragingly along your arm, lacing your fingers in his own.  Steve is smiling, slow and sultry, right at you, a wall of blast-furnace warm and sexy muscle, wedged almost touching right in front.  

Your body sings.  It remembers this, being caught between dark fire and golden glow.  Celebrated.  Revered. Taken to dizzying heights and a now melting grows in your core that you haven’t felt for months.

Perhaps it is that they are right.  You can, in time, adjust.  

And they will show you every hour of every day how much they love all of the woman that you are.

You let yourself fall back upon the bed when a hand with freckled pushes gently on your chest.  So many hands.  Pale. Black-gold.  Irish fair and English tawny warm.  Somehow Bucky has caught you as you fall.  Your head is in his lap.  His blue-green eyes are sparkling just above and one hand is palming, lightly, gently, at the nipple peaked below your dress.  It feels right.  And good. Home, after too long away, and then Steve crawls up the bed, lays himself warm and pliant between your legs. Grinning broadly, excitement glowing in his gaze.  His hands lift the cotton of the hem, ruch the pale yellow flowers up to see a view of your new lemon thong.  

A blond eyebrow raises. “T-2 hours before we go.  Time enough to change into another pretty dress?”

Oh god.  

“Yes.”  

So yes.  

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

tags: @winters-beauty @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  @theycallmebecca @mewsiex@emilyevanston @mycapt-ohcapt  @pegasusdragontiger  @badassbaker @heather-lynn @saffreelove @loricameback @nomadicpixel@missfirstavenger @prplprincez @marvel-lucy

[hotflushplumbing]

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[leominster1941]

Leominster’s Victorian Water Supply.

The Pinsley Brook in Vicarage Street prior to being piped in the 1970s provided great entertainment for a young child. The Brook had been diverted by the monks hundreds of years earlier where it fed fish ponds and acted as a drain. It powered three mills and ran under the (still currently existing) 12th century monastery infirmary building, part of which was a reredorter or toilet for the monks.

The Pinsley Mill was rebuilt and looked just like this in the 1960s, but it was semi-derelict.

https://catalogue.millsarchive.org/pinsley-mill-leominster

 The Pinsley Brook of 1860 should have been piped. It was a breeding ground for disease. It was used for washing clothes in Vicarage Street. By 1960 it was clean and full of aquatic life. The brook flowed slowly parallel to Vicarage Street and across the entrance to Hampton Gardens. It was crossed by a lovely narrow arched red brick bridge further along Vicarage Street. The bridge led to a very narrow lane along which there was a terrace of very small Victorian houses. Hampton Gardens had been built from red bricks to match the houses around it. However, not built nearly so well as our Victorian ancestors had done. By the 1970s whole sides of houses were collapsing.

It was possible to catch crayfish, minnows and bullyheads (Bullheads). There were eels and very occasionally a Trout. Someone decided to erect a metal fence on concrete posts to block access to the path which ran beside the Brook. It was also an attempt to prevent access to water. The fence was promptly pulled down in places. If you followed the Brook westwards you were in the countryside in less than five minutes. Here the Brook was bordered by ash trees and weeping willows with roots wallowing in the water. Running parallel to the stream was the much larger River Kenwater.

Can you imagine this? Walking along a narrow path with unspoilt streams flowing either side of you with trees and bushes lining the route. At the end of the path there was a wooden style. Once over this a whole vista of lush meadows opened out, accessed by a beautiful naturally arched stone bridge. It was later replaced by an ugly metal and concrete one.

If you followed the brook in the opposite direction there was serious fun to be had. Once the stream passed Brook Hall it disappeared into an open tunnel which flowed underneath Broad Street. Despite passing the Brook Hall hundreds of times for over 20 years I never passed through the front door. By crouching under it was possible to continue to follow the brook for several minutes before arriving at the other end of the tunnel. We were perhaps using the same route as Monks had done in the past.  

The Waterworks Museum writes the following about the gradual improvement in Leominster’s water supply.

Tangye House; ex-Leominster's water-pumping station.

In the 1860s Leominster, an important market town in Herefordshire, endured several epidemics of typhoid fever from contaminated drinking water.

  Many of the more affluent traders had their own wells in their gardens but also cesspits.

Poorer people took their water direct from the Pinsley Brook.

  The epidemics reached such a level of attrition amongst the adult population that the Government directed the Town Council to provide the townsfolk with piped, potable water.

Money was raised through a Government loan by Mr Tertius Southall, a distant relation of the founder of the Waterworks Museum, Stephen Southall, and the waterworks building was constructed.  It housed a steam engine and pump (later discarded with no records remaining) and was built above a known aquifer.

 Quite quickly the water level in the aquifer was brought too low to use and water was piped in from some distance.

In 1990 the waterworks building was due to be razed to allow the extension of a business park in the town.

The Museum negotiated with the developers, dismantled the building with the advice of Avoncroft Museum, and reconstructed it on the Waterworks Museum site.

 The roof support is of particular interest being an early wrought steel structure.

The building is now called the Tangye House and is home to the 97 litre Tangye horizontal diesel engine and other displays

In Leominster, people took their water from public pumps or directly from the river, while the richer townsfolk had their own private wells. It was not until these became infected by sewage and the rich people began to die that anything was done. A waterworks was only constructed in 1865 after a typhoid epidemic in which 38 people died, in the building that is now the Tangye House at the Museum.

 Source:    https://www.waterworksmuseum.org.uk/portfolio-view/tangye-house/

In many accounts of life in the Victorian Workhouse it is recorded that all inmates, including, children drank beer every day. In early Workhouses men were allowed up to three pints a day. Farm labourers would take jars or pots of beer or cider with them for liquid refreshment during the long days of work. Visitors or guests to average Victorian family home would be offered beer or wine. In most cases these were watered down especially in the Workhouse. This was not true of pub ale which was far stronger than the ale available on public sale by the 1930s. It is interesting that we have slowly but surely returned to the stronger alcohol drinks which became legal in the late 20th Century.

Many of you will know the reason for Victorians at all social levels avoiding water. Before piped water was installed in Leominster in 1867 water was obtained from shallow wells, which were liable to contamination, although many 17th Century reports on Leominster record the high quality of the water.

In Leominster like many other towns a water carrier would collect water from the river Lugg or Kenwater in order to sell it at half a penny a bucketful. It is extraordinary that river water was thought to be ‘clean’ enough to drink. Relative to well water, it was. Leominster was flooded regularly, and this enabled all kinds of sewage to pollute any wells, let alone what was thrown into wells.

After a cholera scare and thirty-eight deaths of townspeople from typhoid in 1864, the dangers of water from wells and springs were clear. In 1867 Leominster invested £8000 in constructing wells, pumping station, reservoirs, and pipework to supply the town.

Water was pumped into two 200,000 gallon reservoirs at Newlands drive from near the railway station. A further £5000 was spent on sewerage system.

 The following article describes glowingly how much better Leominster’s water was by the end of the 19th Century.

The town is situated on the old red sandstone formation, and slightly above the valley of the river Lugg. The strata passed through were the surface-soil, consisting of about 6 feet of compact and nearly impervious red clay; a bed of river-gravel a few inches thick, forming the water-bed of the valley, on a level with, and no doubt communicating with, the river itself 200 yards distant; and below this, red and blue marl, with occasional lumps of sandstone rock for the remainder of the distance. No considerable supply of water was found below the gravel stratum, but that which found its way into the well through the fissures in the lower marl was of a remarkably soft character. A collecting drain was therefore made in the gravel for 150 yards in a direction away from the river. The supply of water was found to be ample in the very dry season 1869-70, and is much in excess of any probable requirement of the town. The quality is excellent, and is always clear and bright, requiring no filtration.

The water is pumped direct from the well into the supply reservoir, which is about 140 feet above the well and three-fourths of a mile distant in a direct line, and it passes from thence into the mains for distribution. The pumping station is at the well; there are two high-pressure engines of a nominal power of 12 horses each. The annual cost of pumping, including labour, fuel, and materials, is about £230. The area of the district is about one mile in length by three-fourths in breadth. About 800 houses are now supplied for domestic purposes - very little for trade purposes. The quantity of water pumped is about 100,000 gallons per day for all purposes. The water is supplied direct from the mains without cisterns. The supply is constant and adequate. The charge is 1s. in the £ on the net rateable value; no extra charge for water-closets.

Extract from Littlebury's Directory and Gazetteer of Herefordshire, 1876-7

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Waterproofing problems are distinctively various - basement walls. As a result, the solution should be tailored for your house. How much does basement waterproofing cost? The expense to waterproof your basement depends on the level of waterproofing you need. If you have dampness without puddles, then a trustworthy basement dehumidifier might be all you require.

In any case, it's constantly great to hire a basement waterproofing professional. In addition, take care of specialists who tell you the cost of basement waterproofing prior to they see the problem. Notably, every house has unique soil and ecological elements. Waterproofing problems are distinctively different. As an outcome, the service needs to be tailored for your home.

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Outside waterproofing involves digging down to the basement foundation footing. When the digging is total, water resistant barriers would be set up over the foundation walls. Lastly, an external drainage system would be executed. While this is an irreversible service, it damages your foundation and is really pricey. Additionally, external drains can cause problems down the road.

To clean the drains, you'll need to excavate down to the drains pipes in order to eliminate the obstruction. Consequently, this puts your basement structure at danger for damage triggered by the digging. Interior waterproofing is the a lot of cost reliable way to look after your basement's water problem. This can include setting up a french drain or above flooring drain system.

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2017/01/12 Water in the basement is a major concern for every house owner. A wet basement is a health threat as it motivates the development of hazardous mold. Waterproofing the basement is the only sure way of keeping it dry. However, this is a huge job and ought to not be ignored.

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Dealing with a deep structure from the outdoors needs more labor as more excavation has to be done. Typically, foundations are excavated four feet below the frost line and have window wells when they are much deeper than that for ease of access. Hop Over To This Web-site Basement Repair Kansas City. Usually speaking, the deeper the foundation the greater the costs of waterproofing your basement.

Quick repairs like applying sealant to stop basement leaks may cost less than substantial long-lasting options like digging a drainage trench around the building however normally, do not last. Interior Waterproofing Injection This is a fast repair for a damp basement although not typically advised as an extensive option. You can utilize epoxy or polyurethane to inject a fracture in a poured concrete structure.

This is a system where a weeping tile is put on the interior of the home by breaking the floor approximately 12 out of the wall. A weeping tile is placed in a trench beside the footing and sloped to a sump pump (Pop Over To This Website Basement Waterproofing Kansas City). Relief holes are drilled in a block structure to drain the wall and a dimpled plastic structure membrane is attached to the interior wall from grade level to beneath the flooring slab.

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Applying Membrane to Structure Wall External Waterproofing is the favored method and the finest method to guarantee your basement remains dry for the long term. The structure is waterproofed from the outdoors to prevent water entering the walls and into the basement. Digging a trench around the building to properly waterproof a structure is considered the best long-term option.

Excavating to the footing is the primary step so that the foundation can be cleaned of loose debris and soil. The preliminary remediation action might differ depending upon the specific structure but in general, it is a parging or cement repair work that is very first done to seal the structure. RCC then uses 2 coats of a trowel on rubber with a material mesh ingrained between the coats for additional strength - good bones.

The last layer of defense is a soil side dimpled plastic drain membrane. It is the final of 5 actions for waterproofing the structure and promotes the drainage of water on the exterior of all the waterproofing materials. A four-inch weeping tile with filter cloth is set up beside the footing and is linked to either the existing storm sewage system connection or a sump pump - crawl space.

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The cost of basement waterproofing can usually range in between $1000-$ 25,000 however could go as high as above $50,000 depending upon the size of the structure. External waterproofing is a big job and needs to always be dealt with by experts. RCC's external waterproofing system will offer you with a long-term solution, backed by a guarantee that is 2nd to none.