#drain cleaning specialist

[gwendolynjames25]

The Impact Of Weather And Seasonal Changes On Drains And Pipes

Maintaining the health of your home's plumbing system is essential to ensuring the safety, cleanliness, and functionality of your living space. However, weather and seasonal changes can have a significant impact on the drains and pipes in our homes, leading to blockages, leaks, and other issues. That's why it's important to hire a drain cleaning specialist who can provide regular maintenance and address any issues that arise. In this article, we'll explore the impact of weather and seasonal changes on drains and pipes and provide tips for how to prevent common problems.

Winter Weather

Winter weather can be particularly harsh on drains and pipes. As temperatures drop, water inside pipes can freeze and expand, leading to cracks and leaks. Additionally, snow and ice buildup around the home can block drains and cause backups. To prevent these issues, it's important to properly insulate pipes and keep them heated, even in unheated areas of the home such as the attic or basement. Homeowners should also regularly clear snow and ice from around the home's exterior drains to prevent blockages.

Spring showers

Spring showers can bring an influx of water into the home's plumbing system, which can lead to blockages and overflows. Additionally, spring weather can cause tree roots to grow and infiltrate pipes, leading to leaks and other damage. To prevent these issues, homeowners should invest in regular drain cleaning services to remove buildup and debris from within the pipes. Additionally, it's important to regularly inspect pipes and address any issues, such as leaks or cracks, as soon as they are detected.

Summer heat

Summer heat can cause pipes to expand and contract, leading to leaks and other damage. Additionally, summertime can be a busy season for outdoor activities such as barbeques and pool parties, which can put added strain on the home's plumbing system. To prevent issues, it's important to avoid pouring grease or other food waste down drains, which can cause blockages. Homeowners should also invest in regular plumbing inspections to ensure that pipes are in good working order and can handle the increased demand.

Fall leaves

Fall leaves can be particularly problematic for drains and pipes, as they can clog gutters and downspouts, leading to backups and leaks. Additionally, fall weather can cause debris to build up within pipes, leading to blockages and other issues. To prevent these issues, it's important to regularly clean gutters and downspouts of leaves and other debris. Additionally, homeowners should invest in regular drain cleaning services to remove any buildup from within the pipes.

In conclusion, the weather and seasonal changes can have a significant impact on the health of your home's plumbing system, leading to blockages, leaks, and other issues.

By hiring a drain cleaning specialist, you can prevent these common problems and ensure the ongoing health of your plumbing system.

A reliable and experienced provider can offer regular maintenance services, perform inspections, and address any issues that arise. When choosing a specialist, be sure to look for one who has the right certifications, offers a range of services to meet your needs, and has a strong reputation in the industry.

With the right specialist on your side, you can have peace of mind knowing that your plumbing system is in good hands and that your home is safe, clean, and functional all year round. So don't hesitate to take action and prioritize the health of your home's plumbing system today.

[johnlevine]

The Importance of Hiring a Drain Cleaning Specialist

Are you tired of dealing with clogged drains in your home or business and now you're looking for a drain cleaning specialist? Don't let this problem continue to disrupt your daily routine. Hiring a professional drain cleaning specialist can make a huge difference in the health and efficiency of your plumbing system.

At Get Unblocked, we understand the importance of having clean and functioning drains. That's why we offer expert drain cleaning services that are designed to remove any blockages and improve the overall performance of your plumbing system. Our team of highly trained specialists use state-of-the-art equipment and techniques to get the job done right the first time.

Ignoring a clogged drain can lead to more serious problems down the line, such as water damage, mold growth, and even structural damage. By hiring a professional drain cleaning specialist, you can avoid these costly and time-consuming issues and ensure the longevity of your plumbing system.

So, if you're experiencing slow draining sinks, toilets, or showers, don't hesitate to contact Get Unblocked. We'll provide you with fast and reliable drain cleaning services that will keep your plumbing system running smoothly. Call us today to schedule an appointment and experience the peace of mind that comes with having clean and unblocked drains.

Contact us:

Phone number: 1300 311 511 Email address: info(@)getunblocked(.)com(.)au

[draincleaningok1]

How to provide effective Drain Cleaning Huntington Beach

There are both residential and commercial clients come to our experts for advice and quick service on the most difficult drains. Drain Cleaning Huntington Beach can handle any drain related problems, including trenchless sewer repair, a new drain liner, or other draining cleaning in Huntington Beach services. Get more information visit here: - bit.ly/3jfJeiS

[merseyrod]

Drain Warrington: Solving Typical Drain Repair Problems

Drain Warrington, Drains blocked in Warrington? We offer a no fix, no fee drain unblocking service, meaning if we cannot unblock your drain we do not charge you a penny.We are ranked as the UK’s No.1 drainage company according to Trustpilot, click the star to see.You will always know the cost of our services before we attend your property. Click the padlock to view our prices.

[sosplumbingdrainage]

SOS Drainage & Plumbing is your trusted partner for clearing blocked drains in Poole. We understand the frustration and inconvenience that comes with a blocked drain, which is why we offer fast and reliable service to get your drains flowing freely again.

[mambadrainageservices]

Modern Solutions for Improved Drainage

Our drain tile replacement service specializes in smoothly swapping out outdated, ineffective drain tiles for modern, long-lasting substitutes. Contact us now!

[planotxplumbing]

Plano TX Plumbing

Plano TX Plumbing Have your plain plumb appliances been really powerless lately? If you have clogs, punctures, leaks or other types of quirks that are making things objectively worse, let us know. Here at Plano TX Plumbing, we have top Texas technicians who are terrified at troubleshooting your products.

Plumbing Services For Those Located In Plano, Texas Every licensed plumber on our team is experienced and trained in all types of areas. Do you have a garbage disposal that isn’t working right? Maybe your septic tank is backed up and now your toilets are paying the price.

Pro Plano Plumbers Who Happen To Be Cheap

If you’re on the hunt for a cheap plumber, we think we’ll have just the solution for you. With our low rates being some of the lowest in the state of Texas, you’ll always be delighted to find out that we offer you online coupons on top of them. That way, you’ll have easy savings that make sense for you budgeting. Plano TX Plumbing doesn’t want you to have to suffer for no reason. If you're ready to get your plumbing fixtures leveled up with the help of the plumbers on our team, let us know now. We’d love to get your initial consultation set up!

Plumbing Repair & Service Complete Plumbing System Maintenance & Repair Water Heater Specialist Sewer & Drain Cleaning Sink - Toilets - bathtubs Residential, commercial, industrial Leak Detection Technology About Us

Plano TX Plumbing Tel: 972-836-6898 811 N Central Expy #1070 Plano, TX 75075 Mon to Sun from 8AM to 7PM

[plumbomaticsouthgate]

Plumb-O-Matic Southgate | Plumber | Residential Plumbing Services in Dearborn Heights MI

We are your dependable and trusted-worthy go-to Plumber in Dearborn Heights MI, committed to resolving all your plumbing issues efficiently and effectively. Our professionals are equipped with advanced tools and extensive knowledge to handle a wide range of plumbing tasks. From fixing leaky faucets to unclogging drains, we have the expertise to keep your plumbing system in perfect condition. Moreover, we understand the importance of a smooth-running plumbing system for your comfort and convenience, which is why we always deliver high-end Residential Plumbing Services in Dearborn Heights MI. Our team is trained to diagnose and rectify any plumbing issue, offering preventative maintenance, repairs, and installations. So, if you need our expert assistance, give us a call today.

[adaptableplumbing]

When it comes to plumbing services in Perth, hiring a professional plumbing company is the best way to ensure reliable and efficient solutions. From routine repairs to complex installations, these experts have the knowledge and skills to handle a wide range of plumbing needs. By entrusting your plumbing issues to a reputable company, you can have peace of mind knowing that your plumbing system is in capable hands. So, the next time you encounter a plumbing problem, don't hesitate to contact a trusted plumbing company in Perth for prompt and effective assistance.

[environdrainage]

If a pre-purchase drain survey isn’t mandatory, you should still carry one out to avoid unexpected costs after you move in.

If you discover damage to the drains before you buy the property, and repairs which need to be carried out can be covered by the existing owner’s home insurance or the cost could be negotiated off the purchase price.

[bluecreates25]

ZOMBIE!GHOST HEADCANNONS ft. GhostSoap

Disclaimer- most of these are not original ideas but a compilation of things I've seen with my own ideas thrown in

So we've all see the theory that he broke his own jaw when he got infected so he wouldn't be able to infect people, right?

which omg is that both painful and hard to do. in addition, in the trailer, it seems like he maintains some of his humanity even after he's infected

WHICH IS DEVASTATING

because basically, I've done too much reading, and I've seen many scenarios

1. is that his group gets infected alongside with him and he remains the sole survivor

eventually, the grief of being alone, and how insanely draining it would be to exist as a rotting corpse, he would essentially shut down/ kill his own mind since he can't actually die.

this is the saddest in my opinion, because I believe he would have insane survivors guilt, and would be absolutely crushed (since in his actual back story his family was murdered, and so this would be the 2nd he's been unable to protect those he cares about)

2. is that he is already long time a zombie, but forms an attachment to some survivor passing through

like someone is passing through the town that he's in, and he immediately forms an attachment to them, but he is conscious enough to realize he would be seen as a threat and even backs up if approached

however, he has a desire to protect that person, so he mostly remains out of sight, watching the area. said person will essentially be protected by him, like he'll literally kill off other zombies to keep them safe

I have such mixed emotions about this, because I feel like he would be so lonely. absolutely infatuated with and determined to protect this person, but he would never allow himself to go near them

3. has to do with John 'Soap' Mactavish

I feel like they'd be with their team when Simon gets bit. the others would try to drag

Soap away or shoot Simon, but Soap isn't having any of that. even Simon would try to get him to leave, but Soap, loyal as ever, would refuse.

Simon would definitely break his jaw in this scenario, but do it while soap goes on a supply run, or is sleeping so he doesn't have to witness it

Simon would eventually give up on begging him to leave, Soap was ready to die with him. once they both realize that Simon is still somewhat conscious, Soap is adamant about taking care of Simon even as he decays, trying to keep him bandaged and cleaned as much as possible

Simon would become like a guard dog for Soap, protecting him from both zombies and other survivors. Simon is especially fast and strong since he still has some control over himself. I think Soap would have to keep a leash on Simon, because Simon's brain, while still holding some function, has zombie instincts, and he easily gets distracted. Also, I think Soap would be able to decipher what Simon's different grunts and groans mean (Simon unable to talk due to broken jaw and rotting) to where they can basically have full conversations

In the end, I think Soap would die of old age (Ghost having protected him his whole life), and we would circle back to Ghost being the sole survivor

OR

Ghost would eventually get to a point where his body has rotted so much that life isn't feasible for him. he can no longer function or protect Soap, and he is able to communicate that with Soap, who in the end shoots him. Soap would be put into absolute agony over this. Soap, being a demolition specialist in the military, makes me personally believe he'd absolutely wreck havoc.

I think he'd probably destroy a city with some makeshift explosives because while Ghost might've been technically dead for a long time, they were still soulmates, and this time, he was gone for good

I think he'd become reckless with his own life, a mix of anger and sadness. There'd be days where he'd be so depressed he wouldn't get up, and others where he'd do the stupidest shit just to not think about the fact he is now completely alone in the apocalypse

I don't think he'd get infected; I think he'd probably pick a fight with some survivor group, or one of his reckless expeditions would be the end of him. I don't even think he'd make it a half year without Simon.

I feel like this would contrast to if he'd stayed with his group after Simon was infected or if Simon had been KIA on a mission (not apocalypse au). I think if he had his team, he would've moved on and lived a good life, although grieving and completely dedicating Simon's death day as a day of remembrance. However, with Simon having been his only companion for so long and the man he threw away everything for, he might as well have died when Simon did

[master-sass-blast]

Resurgence.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Chapter One, Part Five: Chapter Two, Part Five: Chapter Three, Part Six: Chapter One, Part Six: Chapter Two, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen

Summary: You grin when you step off the elevator and see Lin waiting down the hall, in the doorway of her apartment.

She smirks when she sees you, then smiles faintly when you jog down the hall to greet her. “Someone’s eager.”

“What, you didn’t miss me?”

She hums into your kiss, one strong arm banding around your waist. “Well,” she murmurs against your lips, “maybe just a little.”

You giggle, then let her usher you inside as she kicks the door shut behind you both.

-

AKA you and Lin meet up for an evening to blow off steam. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned.

Pairing(s): Lin Beifong x Reader.

Rating: M for sexual content, panic attacks, PTSD symptomatology, vomiting, and arguing.

Word count: 5.9k.

Author's Note: Me? Posting more than once a year? Surely not.

In other news, my CFS/other body and brain shit is still overwhelming. It basically took dragging myself through editing to be able to post this latest round of fics (for those of you who don't check out my other works, no worries, but I like to post in little caches so that everything is updated mostly together). I'm not trying to vie for pity; I'm really fucking proud of myself for pushing through and being able to post. I had an unofficial goal of wanting to post more fics before April was over (because April is my birth month), and I did it! I am that bitch!

Thank you all for your patience -and all the comments! They really kept me going when the grind of editing was starting to wear me down.

Happy Reading!

P.S. Shout out to the commenter who pointed out how guilty Lin must feel for not saying anything about the locks. I hadn't even thought of that.

Wake up. Stretch. Get ready for work. Catch the 8:30 morning tram.

Get to work. Clock in. Review client roster for the day. Confer with reception Start off with your first patient for the day.

Clock out for lunch. Eat lunch. Talk to coworkers. Take a short walk during break.

Clock back in for the afternoon. Work with more patients. Confer with an assistant on upcoming scheduled appointments. Take your afternoon break. Drink some tea.

Wrap up your last scheduled appointment. Update client progress charts. Tidy work space. Clock out.

Catch 5:45 evening tram. Stop by the market to pick up food for dinner. Go back home. Make dinner. Do chores and general “life maintenance.” Try to relax. Get ready for bed. Go to sleep.

And on, and on, and on, and on…

You like your job. You love the field of work you’ve picked. Carrying on your grandmother’s legacy –the tradition of the Northern Water Tribe’s healing work–gives you reason to hold your head high each morning.

You have purpose. Passion. You help people.

Maybe you’re a workaholic in denial. Or maybe it’s the fault of your mad idea to also work at Yue General as a trauma recovery specialist and on-call surgical assistant. Whatever the case, at least once a year, you hit a point where the daily grind of your life starts drilling through your head and draining your will to live.

In years past, you’d usually take a few days off, after about the fifth week of dragging yourself through the motions. You’d promise to “refresh” your life –clean up your apartment, take care of responsibilities left to the side in the wake of your waning motivation–then spend your time off eating your weight in take out and napping on your couch.

Well. It works. Each year, you’re able to return to work after a few days living as a shut-in hedonist with renewed joy and drive.

This year, however…

You grin when you step off the elevator and see Lin waiting down the hall, in the doorway of her apartment.

She smirks when she sees you, then smiles faintly when you jog down the hall to greet her. “Someone’s eager.”

“What,” you say, somewhat winded, as you slow to a stop in front of her. You wind your arms around her neck and curl your fingers into her curly, short hair. “You didn’t miss me?”

She hums into your kiss, one strong arm banding around your waist. “Well,” she murmurs against your lips, “maybe just a little.”

You giggle, then let her usher you inside as she kicks the door shut behind you both.

…

The second the deadbolt slides into place, the weight of your daily grind melts away.

Technically, the second you got a phone call from your darling girlfriend, and thus received the invitation to come over for an evening, a lot of the drudgery bearing down on you had abated. But you’d still waited, balancing electric anticipation, looming over your head as you counted down the days, then the hours, then the minutes…

You moan into Lin’s mouth as she grabs your ass with both hands.

Bliss.

You’ve always hated waiting for what you want –for anything, really.

Lin shoves you against the nearest wall. She growls when you squeeze her ass harder than necessary, then grabs your hands. “Behave.”

“No.” You take the opportunity to nip at her lower lip –which makes her gasp gloriously–then utilize her shock to fight her grip. “I–”

Lin all but slams your hands against the wall, over your head. She brushes her lips along your jawline –which makes you tremble–then murmurs huskily in your ear. “Enough. Be patient.”

“Patient?” you sputter. “I’ve been patient the whole damn week–”

“I called you only three days ago.”

“It felt like a week!” You whimper when Lin nips at the side of your neck. Feigning submission, you tip your head back and melt against her –until she loosens her grip on your wrists.

“You little–” Lin catches your hand halfway on its journey up her shirt with one hand, then grabs your face with the other. She forces you to look her in the eye and glowers down at you. “What did I just tell you?”

“You called me three days ago.” A cheeky, self-satisfied grin stretches across your face when she growls at you. You smile up at her, the picture of innocence, then use her moment of distraction to jam your thigh between her legs.

Lin lets out a choked gasp of your name and stumbles against you.

“Aw, baby, did you miss me?�� you purr. “You could’ve called me so –FUCK!”

In one fluid motion, Lin tosses you over her shoulder and marches down the hall, towards her bedroom.

A short grunt escapes you when she tosses you on her bed, and then you squeal when she yanks you over her lap. In short order, your pants are yanked down around your knees. You mock-glare at her over your shoulder when she pulls roughly on your underwear. “Don’t rip these! I like them!”

Lin grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your head back down against the bed. “Shut up.”

Blissful pain shoots across your scalp. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you moan into her bedspread.

(Regardless, she heeds your demand and doesn’t ruin your underwear.)

Your underwear follow the trajectory of your pants in short order. Anticipation and arousal pulse through your cunt, prompting you to squirm atop Lin’s lap.

She pins you down by barring one strong, unyielding arm across the small of your back. Her free hand gently smooths over the swell of your bare ass –almost worshipful, in contrast to her ire with your bratting. “Last chance. Behave.”

You can’t resist. “Or what?”

Her hand cracks down against your skin.

You yelp –then whimper when she kneads your asscheek, drawing out the underlying ache. “Lin–”

“Be. Good.” She leans over your back to growl in your ear. “Or I won’t let you cum tonight.”

…Come on. She practically set that up on a silver platter for you.

“What makes you think you can make me cum to begin with?”

SMACK!

A delighted sob rips out of your throat. You writhe –well, as much as you can, anyway, since Lin’s always bound to win any contest of strength between the two of you–then moan when she spanks you one, two, three more times. Stars burst behind your eyelids, dazzling and transcendent as all coherent thought leaks out your brain through your dripping cunt. “Fucking spirits–” You groan, low and ragged, when Lin’s hand cracks down against your ass for a fourth time. “Oh shit!”

She keeps spanking you in irregular intervals, until your ass feels hot and you’re a whimpering, slick mess. Lin brushes her fingers against your labia, then pulls away when your hips push against her fingertips. “What? Nothing smart to say now?”

And you don’t. The ability to speak has since left your brain, drowned out by arousal, and endorphins, and the feeling of your girlfriend’s hand against your throbbing skin. So, in lieu of saying what’s on your mind, you opt for a physical demonstration.

“You little fucking brat–”

Or, well, you try to.

You manage to twist your arm and get half a hand on Lin’s chest –her beautiful, soft chest that you would never take your hands off, if you had things your way–before the bottom drawer of her nightstand flies open and a familiar glint of silver whizzes past your head.

Your stomach lurches, akin to airsickness, when the first metal cuff closes around your wrist.

“You never listen, never learn–”

It’s like you’ve toppled into the Northern Ocean in the midst of winter. Every muscle in your body seizes, practically frozen solid. You’re sinking, slipping beneath the surface as La drags you into their depths, theirs forevermore.

“–okay? Talk to me–”

You can’t breathe right. There’s a burlap bag over your head. You’re tied to a chair in a dank basement, there’s a bag over your head, and you’re going to die–

“Breathe.” Lin undoes the cuffs with her metalbending, then tosses them aside. She lifts you into her arms, turning you so that you’re sitting in her lap. “What’s wrong? Did I–”

“Don’t leave me again!” A broken sob tears from your throat. You throw your arms around her, clutching her close as you bury your face into her neck. Shudders wrack your body as you cry louder. “Don’t –don’t leave me–”

“Okay! Okay.” Lin cups the back of your head with one hand. “I won’t leave you. Just breathe for me, alright?”

You’re trying. But it’s like you’ve been punched in the gut. You can’t catch your breath, can’t get your diaphragm to open up properly.

“What does she taste like?”

The back of your throat burns. Your mouth tastes like acrid metal.

“I want you to tell me. What does she taste like when you use your tongue on her?”

Clammy sweat beads along your forehead.

“I guess I’ll have to find out for myself.”

You shove yourself to your feet, then clap one hand over your mouth when you retch.

Lin’s reflexes succeed where yours fail. When you double over, she grabs you by the shoulders and rushes you to the bathroom.

The first heave makes your eyes water and burn. You cough, stomach roiling as your whole body rolls. Putrid bile spews into the toilet basin on the second heave, burning your throat on the way out. You sob when you can breathe again, falling to your knees on the hard, cold tiles of Lin’s bathroom floor.

Lin’s hand is strong, yet gentle on your hair. She quickly tucks a few stray strands away from your face. “Easy. Just let it happen.”

Like I have any control here. Panting, you clutch the rim of the toilet bowl. “I–” You retch, then curl over the toilet again.

…

Things go fuzzy. Once your stomach is empty, you collapse against the side of Lin’s bathtub. You’re gasping, clammy and trembling as you try to suck down enough air to stop the feeling of drowning.

A cool glass of water is pressed into your hands. You take a small sip, rinse your mouth, then spit into the toilet bowl before slumping down again.

At some point, you wind up in Lin’s bed, tucked carefully under the covers. Your knees and hips ache from the harsh, unforgiving tile floor. Still shaking, you wince as you curl up on your side. Short, shallow breaths puff past your lips. I’m okay. It’s okay. Everything is okay. You’re safe, Lin’s here–

Except she’s not.

You bolt upright, terror coursing through your veins. The bathroom’s empty, there’s no light peeking out beneath the door to her home office, and the kitchen is silent. Your stomach drops into your feet, and you lunge out of bed. “Lin?”

“What’s wrong?” Her feet hit the floor in her living room, and then she appears at the end of the hallway, expression pinched from concern. “Are you–” She stumbles back a few steps when you careen into her. “What the –hey!”

You lock your arms around her waist and bury your face in her neck. Your pulse pounds in your ears, racing and erratic. “You left me again!”

“I–” Lin’s hands grip your shoulders tightly. “I stayed with you while–”

“Not then! Earlier! You left me!”

Lin tightens her hold on your shoulders, then forces you back so she can see your face. “I don’t know what we’re talking about!”

You lock your jaw to keep yourself from rambling and gibbering like an unhinged loon. Throat tight with fear and anguish, you force yourself to breathe as deeply as you can. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Bile roils in your empty stomach; you swallow hard, then pull away from her. “You left me. After the warehouse. After Kim.”

Lin goes perfectly still. Her wide, green eyes lock onto your face, then quickly focus on the floor instead, before finally drifting to the empty kitchen. Her scarred cheek twitches minutely. “I don’t understand what that has to do with right now.”

“I’m trying,” you spit out between clenched teeth. Frustrated –with her, with the situation, with yourself–you close your eyes and scrub at your face with your hands. “I’m not –you aren’t –I don’t want to–”

“Breathe.”

You do as Lin says, relaxing minutely when her hand brushes against your upper arm. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Use the diaphragm and abdominal muscles to control things. Deep inhale, even slower exhale.

Once you’re visibly calmer, Lin speaks again. “Why did you panic when I cuffed you?”

“I…” You swallow hard, then shrug small and sad. “I flashed back to –to the warehouse fight.” A pang of anxiety makes your voice crack. “When Kim had me tied to a chair in the basement.”

“Shit.” Lin rakes one hand through her short, wavy gray hair. “I’m sorry, I should have thought–”

“Of nothing,” you cut her off, suddenly weary.

“I should have checked in before restraining you–”

“And I would have said ‘go for it.’” You level her with a firm stare. “I didn’t know it was going to happen, either. It just… came out of nowhere.” The anxiousness crests higher, and you compensate by stepping into Lin’s space and wrapping your arms around her waist. You bury your face into the crook of her neck. “Thanks for helping me when I freaked out.”

“Of course,” Lin says as she wraps both arms around your shoulders. “What, like I was going to leave you like that?”

“I know, I know,” you reply automatically.

She left you after the warehouse.

It’s a poisonous, traitorous thought. Cold, nauseating ire roils in your gut. It turns hot as it swirls up your spine, until it breaks over your head in a tidal wave of rage and indignance.

It’s not fair. You and Lin have talked about the whole Kim aftermath fiasco. It’s been put to bed.

Has it? You chew on your lower lip as your mind turns the issue over. If you’re still upset about it, has it really been laid to rest?

How many times have you lectured your patients, after all? Some small injuries or aches, if left unattended, can morph into much bigger problems.

The tell-tale sensation snaps back –almost like vertigo, your head spins as the room suddenly feels miniscule around you. You can feel the walls of Lin’s apartment closing in around you, feel your scalp pressing against the plastered ceiling, even though your girlfriend is still holding you and your head is still comfortably pillowed against her chest. The urge to curl in on yourself, to find somewhere dark and small to hide claws up your legs and back, snarling and demanding your immediate submission. Breathe. Your eyes slip shut, and you press your forehead against your girlfriend’s shoulder. I deserve to exist. My feelings deserve to exist. Teeth clenched against a fresh wave of nausea, you breathe through anger and frustration and pain. Ask, don’t accuse. You swallow around the lump in your throat. “Why –why did you leave me after I got kidnapped?”

Unsurprisingly, Lin freezes again.

You can hear her swallow nervously. When she doesn’t speak, you decide to keep talking. “I needed you. I–I was so fucking scared, and hurt–” Your voice cracks as hot, stinging tears well up behind your closed eyelids. You press the heels of your hands against your eyes, trembling all over as you try to compose yourself. “Sorry. Just –give me a second.”

Lin says nothing, simply waiting in patient silence.

Outside, down in the street below, a Satomobile door thumps shut. The engine revs, then settles into a steady purr before fading away. The familiar rattle of the city tram breaks through the autumnal winds that rip off the harbor. The sound of the tram’s bell soars higher, sailing into the night air like asclepias puffs in the wind.

You flex your feet against the hardwood floors of Lin’s apartment. Pretty grain pattern, part of your brain notes inanely. Must’ve been expensive to refine and install. “Why did you leave me?” you whisper hoarsely, once you finally manage to scrape yourself together. You swipe at your face with the cuff of your sleeve; you hadn’t even managed to get undressed before everything went to shit. You clear your throat. “I… I don’t understand.”

For several long, tense moments, you think she might not answer at all. Then, Lin sighs. “I… I panicked.”

You watch Lin sharply, trying to read her often inscrutable expression and posture.

She walks away from you, over to the window in the living area that overlooks Republic City. She stares out at the night skyline –despite the sun having already set, the city glows from all the electric lights. She braces her hands against the white windowsill; she almost looks like a pensive, noir-style detective from the murder mystery radio shows you like so much.

You tuck your tongue in your cheek to keep from giggling hysterically.

“It was my fault.” She doesn’t look at you. “The nature of my job creates enemies.” She steps back from the windowsill; her hands curl into fists at her sides. “I should’ve known better. I do know better. And despite that, I didn’t keep you safe.”

“It’s not–” With a long, heavy sigh, you shake your head. “You can’t possibly predict every–”

“I did.�� When you sputter disbelievingly, she faces you –but her gaze doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “The security on your building is shit. And you’d be a lot better off with platinum locks.”

After a moment of your best river carp impression, you manage to close your mouth and shake your head. “Lin…” You hold up one finger when she opens her mouth to argue. “That’s not the same thing as knowing that Kim was going to kidnap me.” When Lin’s unconvinced, pinched expression doesn’t lift, you sputter, flabbergasted. “Okay, look –Lin. Baby. If I don’t expect you to make sure every aspect of my life is safe, what good does it do to hold yourself to that kind of standard?”

“I still–”

“‘Still’ nothing, Lin! You’re not a fucking god! Okay, so you thought about my locks; that –that doesn’t obligate you to do anything,” you insist. Sweat beads along your back, soaking into your shirt. You sigh, then sweep your hair off the back of your neck to try and cool off. “As it so happens, I’m an adult; I’m ultimately responsible for myself, and that includes my own safety. Besides, it’s a nice enough neighborhood!”

Lin stares at you, flat and unimpressed. “Bad things happen anywhere.” Her jaw tightens. “You would know.”

You sputter, caught flat-footed by her audacity to use your own assault against you. “I –how fucking dare you!” You clench your hands into fists at your side, fingernails biting into the meat of your palm. “I am not –I cannot believe–” Sense takes hold before you cavalier too far down the road of rage and indignance; as angry as you are, you don’t want to spew vitriol all over Lin. Even if she’s kind of earned it. You glare at her, jaw locked tight. “Even if you have a logical point,” you spit out through clenched teeth, “the woman who skipped out on me after I was assaulted does not get to use that trauma against me in an argument!”

Lin’s lips press into a thin line. She looks at the floor, expression somewhat chastened. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“Yes, yes it was. And thank you.” In a testament to your self-control –which, normally, you’d pass off as lacking at best–you inhale deeply and try to yank your temper back into some semblance of calm. Your head is starting to throb dully. So much for a relaxing night off. You rub your temples as you struggle to process and respond to Lin’s adamant self-blame. “I don’t –I don’t walk around with this notion that being your girlfriend comes with some sort of pass to perfect protection! I don’t expect you to package me up all nice and safe so nothing bad ever happens to me!” 

“I know–”

“Then what, in Yue’s name, is the fucking problem!” You fling your arms wide, voice rising as your frustration mounts again. “There are associated risks with living in the real fucking world, and I have never asked, or intoned, or suggested that you safeguard me from every bad thing that could ever happen! Why…” When your mind finally runs blank, anger petering out, you throw up your arms before letting them fall back to your sides. Your palms hit your thighs with a light slap. “What’s the point? What’s the point of putting yourself through all that, Lin?”

Lin scowls. She turns partly away and rakes one hand through her thick, curly hair. “It’s still my job.” She sighs harshly. “I know you don’t expect me to protect you.” She looks back over you, expression solemn. “I know. But it’s still my job. I don’t–” She presses her lips into a thin line, frustrated, then crosses her arms over her chest. “I believe in police work. I believe that doing my job keeps people safe. Even when I’m ‘off the clock,’ my duties to the people I care about don’t stop, and that includes keeping them safe.”

“Okay.” You nod along, choking back retort after retort through sheer force of will. It matters to her. It matters to her. It matters to her. “Okay.”

Lin fully turns away from you –but even without seeing her face, you can still tell she’s on edge. The line of her body is rigid as she stares out the window of her living room. She takes a deep, audible breath, shoulders rising and falling as she does. She clasps her hands behind her back and bows her head; for a moment, she looks exactly like the countless press release pictures of the indomitable Chief Beifong (which you may or may not have clipped out of the newspaper and tucked away for your own edification, you’ll claim the fifth if asked to testify, presumed innocent until proven guilty). “I didn’t know if we were going to be serious or not. It was more comfortable, for me, to keep you at arm’s length. And that included not making an issue of your building’s security problems.”

It stings, you can’t lie. Her confessed, deliberate indifference to your safety –when it’s apparently a big deal to her–hurts. You swallow hard, then tuck the inside of your cheek between your teeth to keep from firing back before she’s done talking. 

“It was my fault,” Lin states, voice flat and final. “After Kim… I couldn’t deal with it.” Finally, she turns and looks you in the eye. Her expression flickers for a moment, nearly giving way to anguish, before locking down to something more neutral with what you know to be an insurmountable, bone-deep reserve of will. “I’m sorry.” She stiffens, then frowns slowly when you start shaking your head. “What? What is it?”

“I–” Hot, stinging tears trace down your cheeks. Your palms are clammy, and your back is drenched in sweat. “That –thank you. Thank you for being honest. But–” You draw in a shaky breath as you try to school your thoughts into something more coherent. “I don’t –the locks wouldn’t have changed anything, Lin. They –no.” You hold up one finger and glare harshly at her when she opens her mouth to argue. “No. We both know that Kim had a very particular goal in mind. Better locks wouldn’t have stopped him. He would’ve had his goons just, I don’t know, kick in my door, or some shit.” You shrug, defeated, then rub your hands over your face. “I –I don’t care about the stupid locks. I get that it’s important to you, and that’s fine, but the locks don’t make a difference to me.” 

The locks wouldn’t have held your hand in the hospital, after all. The locks wouldn’t have talked to you on the phone after you woke up from yet another nightmare. The locks wouldn’t have rubbed salve into the rope burn on your wrists from where you’d chafed your skin trying to wriggle free. The locks–

Your face crumples, but you manage to keep going as you start crying. “I needed you.” Your whole body shudders as you draw in a shaky, broken breath. “I was so fucking scared, and hurt, and I didn’t know what was going to happen to me–”

Lin presses her lips together in a tight line, then holds her arms out to you.

You choke on a sob, then rush into her embrace. “I was so fucking scared!” You bury your face into her shirt, trembling as you weep. “I felt so lost, and small, and you just left me–”

Lin tucks your head beneath her chin. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It was cruel,” you insist, voice pitiful to your own ears. “And selfish.”

Lin draws in a shaky breath. “It was,” she agrees, her own voice wavering. She hugs you close, as though she can squeeze the pain and suffering right out of you. “I was wrong –and cruel, and selfish. I’m so, so sorry.”

Something inside you releases, like a locked muscle finally relaxing after a good, thorough healing session. You melt against her, hurt yielding to assurance and peace. A shaky exhale floats past your lips. “Thank you.”

…

Once you stop crying and settle into the post-panic attack-argument-meltdown, Lin disentangles from you and sequesters herself in the bathroom.

You can hear the sink tap running; if you felt up to it, you could probably extend your bending and feel the water swirling down the drain.

Exhaustion has you feeling hollowed out. You peel your shirt away from your skin with a grimace. The stress of the evening made you sweat. You try to adjust your underwear under your skirt. All of your clothes, frankly, feel uncomfortably, grossly stuck to your skin. This is not how I wanted to get wet tonight.

You drop down onto Lin’s couch gracelessly. You slump into the dark green cushions and close your eyes.

Your whole body feels raw. Your skin almost feels like you’ve been scraped along the pavement outside. Throbbing and tender, you shift restlessly, trying to find some position that will agree with you.

Outside, a Satomobile honks loudly, which is quickly followed by the sound of tires screeching.

Flinching, you curl forward and comb your fingers through your hair. Fuck me. Quickly, you flip on Lin’s radio, then let out a sigh when instrumental music starts droning through the speakers. You turn up the volume dial, just until the crushing feeling of overstimulation starts to abate. That’s better.

Eventually, Lin emerges from the bathroom. (It’s probably not very long, but your poor, fatigued brain has settled into the muddy state where time starts moving like molasses.) She heads straight for the kitchen and starts quietly puttering about; a few cabinet doors open and close, the tap for the sink runs briefly, and the range hisses as Lin lights it with match.

You borderline drowse as you half-watch her work, half-melt away into the syrupy ooze of reality.

Hours, maybe minutes later, Lin joins you at the couch. She sets down a tray with a fresh pot of tea and two cups onto the coffee table, then reaches over and turns the radio down. “Here.”

You force yourself into a more upright position and accept the cup of steaming, fragrant tea she holds out to you. “Thanks.”

Lin sets down next to you, and makes no protest when you immediately invade her space and curl up against her. She wraps one arm around your shoulders, then picks up her cup of tea with her free hand.

The tea is nice –no doubt some very expensive, well grown blend. You wish you could do more than sip tiredly at it, but your head feels heavy (probably from the swelling in your sinuses, on account of all the crying).

Distantly, the healer part of your brain starts noting all the facets of recovery after crying. Parasympathetic nervous system takes over. Brain releases endorphins. Muscles release tension from build up of stress. Autonomic nervous system reins in heart rate, respiration rate, and blood pressure.

“You alright?” Lin murmurs when you let out a shaky breath..

Nodding, you hum, then tip your head back and kiss her softly. Even though you’re tired, your head feels clearer. The consuming static of terror and rage have finally been swept out, leaving subdued peace and clarity.

Speaking of…

“Hey.” You crane your head back so you can see her face better. “If… if something happens to me again–” You pause when Lin grimaces and looks away. After waiting a moment, you press your fingers against her jaw and gently guide her head until she’s looking at you again. “If something happens to me again,” you repeat, “don’t… don’t push me away.” A lump rises in your throat, but you push past it. “I won’t ever be angry at you if something bad happens to me, okay? And it’s –it’s so much worse–” Your voice breaks; you have to take a moment to pull yourself together before you try speaking again. “It’s so much worse with you not around.”

Blinking rapidly, Lin nods. “Alright.” She looks away for a bit, gaze distant. She swallows hard, jaw rolling as she lets out a sigh, then asks, “Would you consider getting platinum locks?”

“They’re expensive.”

“Victim’s Assistance fund should pay for them, considering your apartment was broken into during the course of an abduction,” Lin fires back, almost like she’s reading the fine print straight from the page. “All you’d have to do is submit a request form and a copy of the police report to their office. And if they don’t pay for platinum locks, I will.”

Part of you wants to protest the notion of her paying for any of it. It’s your apartment and your responsibility. Feasibly, you could scope out some options, compare prices, and then allot the necessary savings into your monthly budget.

A quiet, wiser voice in your head whispers, ‘It’s okay to let her help you.’ “Would you feel better if I had platinum locks?”

Lin’s reply comes without hesitation. “Yes.”

You sweep your tongue along the back of your teeth; part of you chafes at the thought of acquiescing. You can take care of yourself, after all. You moved here on your own, put yourself through university and therapeutic certifications, built yourself up as a reputable and capable physical therapist and surgical assistant. While Lin’s compensated you for ruined clothes and the odd day when she’s worked you over enough that you needed to take a day or two off work, you’ve never needed –or expected–her to bankroll your life.

If the Victim’s Assistance Fund comes through, she won’t have to pay, you remind yourself. And it’s just one set of locks, and she’ll feel better knowing you’re safer.

That’s the clincher, in the end. Stubborn pride isn’t worth your girlfriend’s peace of mind –especially over something as non-invasive as a good set of locks.

You nestle back against the warmth and comfort of Lin’s embrace. “Alright. I’ll start figuring out the Victim’s Assistance fund stuff tomorrow.”

“I can give you the number for one of the department heads.”

“Okay,” you murmur, cheek squished against her shoulder. Part of you thinks it’s a little ridiculous –there’s no reason you can’t go through the same process as everyone else–but you’re too tired to argue (and, honestly, bypassing some of the formalities and traditional run-around will be nice). You sigh, then nuzzle against her and close your eyes. “I’m sorry for freaking out at you earlier. I know –I know you were just taking a moment to breathe, and you weren’t actually leaving me; I just –I was still so out of my head from the cuffs, and the panic attack, and I–”

“It’s okay.” Lin wraps one strong arm around your shoulders. “You were scared; it’s okay.” She kisses the top of your head, then squeezes you a little closer. “Stay here tonight. I’d rather you go home once you’ve had a chance to rest.”

You sniff, then nod. “Okay.” Melting into her embrace, you tuck your head into the crook of her neck. “That sounds nice. Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The radio croons on; the singer –a woman with a smooth, low voice–drawls on about the ocean and the land meeting as lovers. Down the hall, the gentle, intermittent rumble of the elevator interjects between the radio and the sounds of the city at no particular rhythm. Outside, the distant, waning sounds of Republic City’s nightlife echo into the air.

The two of you lapse back into comforting silence.

…

Once the two of you finish your tea, Lin tidies up before shepherding you to bed. 

You rinse off in the shower first. You worry about washing your hair, or anything too involved, but getting the sweat off your skin is essential if you don’t want to wake up irritable and itchy. 

Your stomach still feels shaky –no doubt from all the mucus and drainage from crying. You turn down the water to a comfortably cool temperature (helps with the inflammation), then mechanically work through the steps of washing up as quickly as you can.

You borrow Lin’s toothbrush (and, fine, it’s really not the grossest thing, especially since you’ve made a point of burying your face between her legs whenever she lets you), and she lends you another baggy, Republic City Police Academy shirt to sleep in.

The gray shirt feels exquisitely soft between your fingertips, against your skin. You tuck away the notion of “borrowing” it for future you to ponder.

It’s nice, slipping beneath the covers on Lin’s bed. Her sheets are luxuriously soft –no doubt a vastly higher thread count than what you can afford.

You stretch your legs like a polar bear pup. Something pops in your lower back, and you groan. “Ugh, finally.”

“You okay?”

“Cracked my back.” You wait for her to turn off the lamp, then cross the space between you and curl up against her side.

Lin obliges you by slipping her arm beneath your neck and winding it around your shoulders. Her fingertips slip beneath the collar of your shirt and stroke along the base of your neck. 

The familiar sounds of the city dwindle as the night drags on. The surrounding apartments are equally still. Here, in Lin’s bed, in her arms, you’re enveloped by safety. By warmth. Every breath you take is filled with the familiar scent of Lin –traces of the cologne she favors, the fresh mint of her toothpaste, even the fragrant tea you both had earlier. The blankets are cozy, exquisitely soft, and the perfect weight to help lull your frazzled mind and body into slumber.

Just for a moment, right before you drop off into sleep, your body relaxes into a state of perfect contentment. It’s almost like you’re floating, perfectly supported and enveloped, much like floating in a pool for a moment of rest before swimming again. Tranquility seeps through your veins, washing away any remaining tension and panic from earlier in the evening.

You fall asleep to the gentle thumping of Lin’s heart and her steady, deep breathing.

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Hihihihhihi can I please join with Deku and prompt 56? Have fun!!

lunaaa!!! <3333 of course you can!

with number 56 you got: “You owe me a kiss.” which just gives infinite scenarios, doesn't it? very fluffy for my very own fluff-specialist <!!!33333 it's 818 words and no real warnings!

send me an ask with a random number between 1-210 and a character and i’ll write you a little story!

When you get home from work, you’re exhausted to the bones. It’s been some rough weeks, the office demanding more and more menial tasks that doesn’t require much effort per say, but when they pile up, they drain the will out of you.

You don’t expect Midoriya to be home when you toe off your shoes by the entrance, so when you hear something being dropped on the floor from the kitchen, your breath instantly hitches and you freeze for a few seconds, straining your ears to hear if there really is someone there or not. You hear steps and something being placed back on the kitchen counter. You mentally go through the exercises that Midoriya has taught you. Dating the number one hero comes with dangerous side-effects and while your address is hidden, you’d never underestimate the cunning of villains. You silently reach for your purse you placed by the dresser, reaching for the pepper spray lodged in there somewhere before you toe your way through the hallway and into the kitchen, more tense than you’ve been in a while.

So when you turn the corner and see none other than your boyfriend whipping something in a bowl, you groan out loud to release the tension. He whips around with one of his bright smiles plastered to his face – together with flour and something sticky. You bend down with your arms resting on your legs, trying to laugh out the fear.

He worries instantly, “what’s wrong?” he asks as he hurries to put the bowl on the counter and come to you. You shake your head and lift your right arm to show him the spray, “I thought we had an intruder. I thought you’d be at work until midnight.”

He coos at you as he runs a hand through your hair, massaging your scalp, “I’m sorry for startling you. I must’ve forgotten to send you a text.”

He goes back to the batter on the counter and you follow, “what are you doing?”

“I’m making some chocolate-chip cookies. Kacchan showed me this really easy recipe!” he’s beaming proudly but the kitchen is a big mess and the batter in his arms doesn’t seem to entirely cooperate with him. You laugh, “did you pre-heat the oven?”

It’s something he always forgets. A mumbled “shit” lets you know he did it again and you laugh as you reach over to turn it on, taking out the tray so he can prepare the cookies on that. Silently, you start helping him, tidying up as you go around, handing him the ingredients he asks for and preparing a big pot of coffee.

“So,” you begin and out of your peripheral vision you see him freeze by the tray, a glop of batter dripping haphazardly between his hands and the baking paper. “What made you come home early to make cookies?”

He winces, “is it really that out of character for me?” he counters you and you laugh at him, resting your hip against the counter, crossing your arms, “Izuku, you didn’t become the number one hero because of your interest in baking, so… out with it.”

He leans back up, his full height and bulk seeming so big in the tiny kitchen of yours. He scratches the back of his neck but you see the regret in his eyes the instant he feels the dough catch in his nape hairs. You snort at him but await his explanation.

“I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Your expression softens at his confession but you can’t help but raise your eyebrow with a teasing glint, “making me help you clean up here is nice?”

He knows you’re making a lighthearted joke and that you technically don’t mind organizing after his tornado of a mess (he also argues in his mind that he’d happily have done it himself before you got home, but this is actually the third batch he’s been trying to make so time ran from him) but it still sits badly with him that he wants to help you feel better and unload some stress but instead makes you work. You near him and let your hands travel over his arms up to his shoulders, “I like seeing my strong hero in the kitchen though. My apron suits you, Handsome.”

He blushes at your flirting banter. It’s amazing, how you’ve been together for almost seven years but he still can’t look you in the eye when you compliment him.

“But this help doesn’t come free, you know.” You argue and he looks at you with confusion written all over him. You smile triumphantly, “you owe me a kiss.”

He chuckles at your request before he wraps his arms around you, careful not to let his hands touch and ruin your clothes with batter, “how about two?”

You smile and lean up closer, squeezing his shoulders, “we can do that.”

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