#even like. not getting inclement weather plans in order until less than a week before the event holy shit.

[gil-estel]

nothing pisses me off more than people praised for ~doing something amazing~ when the actual product is mediocre and the only reason they had to work so hard is because they failed to properly delegate.

[thatsamericano]

Screaming and Fighting and Kissing in the Rain

Pairing/Characters: America/Romano. Past Prussia/Romano, minor Cankraine.

Rating: Teen, for cursing. Also, suggestive implications at the end, but nothing even remotely explicit on-screen.

Warnings: Self-esteem issues, including body image issues. Mentions of violence that aren’t carried out. An unwanted kiss between Prussia and Romano due to miscommunication, but Prussia respects Romano’s boundaries when he makes them clear.

Word Count: 2412

Summary: America gets upset when he plans to meet up with Romano after a meeting and sees Romano and Prussia kissing when he gets to the restaurant. Romano has to chase after America in a rainstorm to make things right.

A/N: Written for Romerica/Itapan Week Day 2: “Kissing in the Rain.” Title taken from “The Way I Loved You” by Taylor Swift.

Despite changing his outfit twice, adding an extra spritz of cologne, and taming his hair as much as he could, Romano still managed to be fifteen minutes early to the restaurant. He ordered a drink at the bar and browsed Twitter on his phone as he impatiently waited for America to show up.

This wasn’t a date, so there was no reason for him to be so nervous, Savino reminded himself. It was just supposed to be “dinner and drinks” with a friend after the world meeting, but Alfred had seemed so excited about spending time with him that an incredibly stupid part of Savino was hoping he could manage to turn this evening in another direction. Savino wanted that part of him to shut the fuck up.

So when Prussia showed up at the bar and sat down on the adjacent stool, Savino slipped his phone into his pocket and engaged in a bit of lighthearted bickering back and forth. Gilbert was a useful distraction that would help him appear relaxed instead of jittery and anxious by the time America showed up.

Romano’s mind was so fixated on America and their date that wasn’t a date that he missed signals he would have ordinarily noticed. He only realized things had gone too far when suddenly Prussia’s mouth was on top of his, and his hand was inching up from Romano’s knee onto his thigh (and when the hell did it land on his knee anyway?).

Romano tore his mouth away and shoved Prussia’s hand off him before it could climb any higher. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Romano squawked.

Prussia gave him that annoying, smarmy smirk he was way too used to. “Trying to turn you on so you’ll agree to come back to my hotel room with me. Is it working?”

Savino scoffed and picked up his drink. “Hardly. That hasn’t worked in a century, asshole.” He took a large gulp and picked at a cocktail napkin nervously. “Besides, I can’t go to your hotel room tonight. I planned to have dinner with someone else.”

“Oh, you’ve got a date?” Prussia asked. Now that sex was off the table, he was curious in a purely friendly manner.

“Not quite. I’m uh… supposed to be meeting America here in a few minutes.” Savino smiled nervously, in a way that must have given away his true intentions, because Gilbert laughed like Savino had said something incredibly hilarious.

“That sounds like a date to me.”

Savino opened his mouth, but before he could issue a flustered denial, he saw an enraged Canada marching towards the bar with an umbrella clenched in his fist like a sword he was about to wield against some very unlucky victim. Ukraine was right behind him, and she was fluttering her hands in the air and whispering, but clearly it wasn’t calming her boyfriend down at all. America’s brother could be downright scary when he was pissed off, so Romano wisely closed his mouth and shrank back against the bar.

Canada pointed a finger straight at Romano. “You!”

“Me?”

“What the fuck did you do to my brother?!” Canada snarled, resembling a polar bear. A fully grown, vicious mama bear, not the cute little cub he carried around with him sometimes.

“I… I didn’t do anything, I swear—”

“Well, somebody must have done something! Because Alfred practically ran out of here crying, and Alfie doesn’t cry like that for no reason! I know for a fact he was supposed to be hanging out with you tonight because he told me all about it after the meeting! He was so happy about getting to spend time with you, and now look what you’ve done!”

Romano felt nauseous with guilt. “Fredo was crying?”

Ukraine nodded solemnly. “I’ve never seen him like that before. Matviy tried to ask him what was wrong, but Alfred was so upset he couldn’t even answer him.”

“Shit,” Prussia whispered. He turned to look at Romano. “Do you think he saw us kissing and got the wrong idea?”

Canada ground his teeth together and gave Prussia a look that was colder than the chilliest day in the Arctic. Ukraine put a hand on her boyfriend’s bicep to keep him from lunging forward to beat the shit out of Gilbert like he clearly wanted to.

Savino hopped down from his barstool. “This is all a horrible, hideous misunderstanding. Where do you think Alfred went?”

Matthew released an irritated huff of air. “He was going out the front door. He’s probably on his way back to the hotel now.”

“Grazie.” Romano dashed past Canada and Ukraine and dodged a couple waiters and a few drenched guests on his way out the front door.

When he pushed open the restaurant’s heavy front door, Savino was instantly confronted by a harsh wind whipping through his hair and rain pelting down on him as thunder boomed from the clouds. The sky, which had been merely overcast earlier, was now in the midst of a full thunderstorm, but Romano didn’t care about getting wet or ruining his Armani suit or Ferragamo shoes. He only cared because the inclement weather made it harder for him to see.

Romano swung his gaze desperately around the street and quickly spotted a blond man in a business suit swiftly walking down the block several meters ahead of him. Romano ran towards him and started yelling.

“Alfred! Alfred, slow down so I can talk to you, damn it!”

When he got closer, he could see that the man he was chasing was indeed America, and that his shoulders were trembling. He was sobbing, just like Canada had said. “Leave me alone! Go back to making out with Prussia! That’s what you’d rather do anyway!”

“Don’t tell me what I fucking want, idiota!” He was close enough now to grab America’s jacket, which he did, forcing America to turn around and face him. “If I wanted to make out with Prussia, I wouldn’t be out here in the rain yelling at you!”

America’s face was met with a mixture of rainwater and tears. He was soaked through to the bone, just like Romano was, and his electric blue eyes were swimming with misery and betrayal.

“You know, Vinny, it’s bad enough that I had to walk into that restaurant, expecting that I’d get to spend time with you, alone, and see you shoving your tongue down Prussia’s throat. But I at least thought you respected me enough to not lie right to my face. Guess I was wrong!”

Romano shook his head. “That’s not what happened, damn it! If you’d just listen, I could explain—”

America made a noise between a derisive laugh and a wet, hiccupping sob. “Explain?! Explain what?! Let me guess, it didn’t mean anything, and you and Gil are just good buddies! Because kissing your friend like that is a totally normal thing to do, right?!”

Savino’s throat was closing up, and he didn’t know what to say. Because Alfred was half-right in his hysterical shouting. A long time ago, he had kissed Gilbert like that, and even slept with him, but their relationship had never turned romantic. There had been mutual interest and mutual understanding between them, but never love. He would have never run away crying into a rainstorm if he’d seen Prussia kissing someone else, and he knew Prussia wouldn’t have either.

Which made him wonder: why the hell was America reacting like this? He was acting like Romano had ripped out his heart, stomped on it, and then laughed about it while high-fiving Prussia, which didn’t make any sense, unless…

“Fredo, do… do you want me to kiss you?”

Alfred whimpered like Savino had just stabbed him in the guts. He hunched his shoulders to shrink down as much as his tall frame would allow and squeezed his eyes shut. “I get it, okay? Gil is… he’s more attractive than me. He’s less fat, for starters. He can be loud too, but most people aren’t as annoyed by him as they are me. He’s older and smarter than I am, so he’d actually know how to kiss people. Of course you’d want to be with him instead of me.”

The thunder rumbled ominously as Romano reached out to touch America’s shoulder. “That’s not true. None of that is true.” Dio, it hurt to hear Alfred talk about himself like this. Like he was nothing. Like his feelings, which were clearly hurt, didn’t matter.

America continued, disregarding what Romano had said.  “It’s okay. You don’t have to try to make me feel better. I know you don’t like me the way I like you. You’ve got every right to kiss Prussia or whoever it is you want. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t kiss them right in front of me, because it hurts. It hurts a lot more than you realize.” Alfred’s lower lip wobbled dangerously, and Savino could barely hear his voice over the wind and rain. “I’ve never… I’ve never even wanted to kiss anyone other than you. Talk about pathetic, right?” Then Alfred started weeping too hard to continue speaking and making these awful, animalistic, heartbreaking noises Savino never, ever wanted to hear again.

Savino reached up to wipe the tears and rainwater away from his cheeks. “You’re not pathetic, amore. You’re gorgeous, and smart, and fucking amazing. I don’t care if it takes all night, I am going to stand here in the rain with you until you believe me.”

Alfred sniffled and looked down at Savino like he was some strange, otherworldly creature he’d never seen before. “Did… did you just call me amore?”

Romano felt a white-hot flash of embarrassment at having his openly sappy words pointed out to him, but that only made him more determined and stubborn. “That’s right, I fucking did! You better get used to it, because I like you a lot, damn it! And that means I get to call you whatever sappy shit I want!”

Alfred laughed and pulled him closer by the waist. “You can call me whatever you want, baby doll. Just as long as you aren’t calling Prussia that too.”

Savino rolled his eyes and vainly pretended he wasn’t shivering from the possessive tone America had used with him or the ridiculous pet name. “For the record, I’ve never called Prussia amore, even when I was hooking up with him. And I wasn’t kissing him earlier. He kissed me, and I pushed him away.”

Alfred tilted his head and grinned. “You wouldn’t push me away if I kissed you right now, would you, Vinny?”

Savino had never felt more exasperated. “Honestly, the fact that you even have to ask—”

Alfred chuckled and leaned down to kiss him, and Savino closed his eyes. At first, Alfred was tentative and uncertain, but with Savino’s encouragement, he gradually grew more confident. His lips were cold and wet from the rain, which wasn’t ideal, because Romano was not a fan of this kind of weather. He obviously didn’t know what to do with his hands, but the fact they were roaming all over Romano’s back like he couldn’t touch him in enough places was flattering as hell. Overall, it wasn’t perfect, but the kiss was equal parts loving and desperate, so it was pretty damn incredible.

Then, with no warning, America lifted Romano’s feet off the ground like he weighed nothing at all. Savino groaned into his mouth and wrapped his legs around Alfred’s hips so he wouldn’t fall over. And because the fact Alfred could just lift him up like that was stupidly hot and making his mind wander to ideas he definitely wanted to explore somewhere more private than this very public sidewalk in front of God knows how many people.

He was a panting, horny mess by the time Alfred pulled away to breathe. Alfred was still holding Savino up, like he could do this all night, and he was smirking.

“Well, how was it? Was I better than Prussia?”

Romano smacked his shoulder without putting much force behind it. “You don’t have to beg for compliments. It was better than anyone I’ve ever been with. Especially the part where you lifted me off the ground.”

“I could carry you around like this for hours. I could pin you up against a wall too, if there was a wall nearby.”

“You should definitely do that at some point. But for now, I’d like to stand again.”

America obediently set Romano back down on his feet and let go of his waist. He gestured back down the street, from whence they had come. “We had dinner plans earlier. Do you want to go back to the restaurant, or…”

“It’s getting late. I think we should go back to the hotel.”

Alfred took his hand and led him down the street. “Makes sense. The hotel has room service. Plus a shower with hot water and fluffy towels. We can get warm, change into dry clothes, then order something to eat.”

He squeezed Alfred’s hand. “The hotel also has walls. And beds that are definitely too big for just one person.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, and he choked on air. “That’s… yeah. Lots of good stuff at the hotel.”

Savino smiled to himself without saying anything. As smooth and seductive as Alfred might pretend to be, this was entirely new territory for him, so he was naturally overwhelmed. It wouldn’t help him to know that his innocence was one of the most adorable things Savino had ever seen.

The light was red when they arrived at the crosswalk, and they had to stop to let cars pass by. Romano leaned up to kiss America’s cheek, and America gave him a puzzled look afterwards.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance as best he could. “I just love you is all.”

Alfred beamed down at him, brighter than the high-beams of passing cars. “I love you too.” He tilted Savino’s chin up and kissed the bridge of his nose. “And I cannot wait to take you home with me.”

Home, hotel, a colony on the moon… at the moment, Romano would gladly go wherever America would take him. When the crosswalk light turned, he grimaced at the fact his Ferragamos had to wade through a muddy, filthy puddle, but it was worth it to be a few steps closer to a hotel room where they could finally be alone at last.

[champagne-bucky]

Come Sail Away ⛵️

Summary: You and Bucky go on a vacation which leads to an unexpected turn of events.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, SMUT, dub-con if you squint, fingering, hand job, spanking, daddy kink. 

Notes: Hey everyone! This is my entry for @imanuglywombat ‘s Ugliest Wombat Challenge. This theme that I chose is Beach Babes so here’s what I came up with. This was loosely inspired by the TV show The Nanny, if you know the episode I’m referencing then you know it’s about to go down. Anyways, please like, comment, reblog, inbox, and follow me for more!! Enjoy :)

The warm summer sun was beating down deliciously on your skin. The salt from the bright blue sea infiltrated your nostrils and was filled with with the scent of summer. Ah, summertime, where the days were unbearably hot and the nights mimicked the same. Less clothing to be worn and not a care in the world. 

You welcomed the warm weather with open arms. After dealing with a gruesome winter, and a spring which brought no tease of its following season, you were more than ready to throw your heavy coat into storage and get on the first bathing suit you could find. Yes, summer was here and you were drinking in every inch of the wonderful season. 

Work was rough this winter. Spending days to sometimes months in places that weren’t your own bed, sleeping in the most horrid conditions, and worst of all, the inclement weather had gotten you sick more times than you could count on both hands. Well, that’s what you signed up for with being an Avenger and all. You might not have super soldier serum to suppress the frigid air or a suit which comes with a built in heater to offer a blast of warmth in all the right places, but you have a nice week long cruise (courtesy of Tony) to forget about those lone nights in Siberia which ended up leaving you bed ridden for two weeks. 

Now you’re here, standing on the ships edge looking out of the vast ocean. Not a singular care in the world crosses your mind. You craved this, you craved the peace and bliss. 

“You stay out here any longer I’m afraid you’ll jump overboard and be one with the fishes,” Bucky chuckles from behind you and startles you. 

He was asked by Tony to “keep watch over you” which was code for “Barnes you need this vacation just as much as her, please for the love of God relax,” however, Tony would never tell him that. Bucky enjoyed working, a little too much. After all this time he was finally able to be the good guy for once and did whatever he could to keep the newly acquired bravado intact. 

“Barnes, didn’t expect to see you so close to me. Usually you’re hiding out of my line of sight, or so you thought,” you muttered the last part to yourself. He was really taking this watching over thing seriously. 

“Was getting bored. I’m starting to think this mission was more a vacation for me and you,” Bucky shakes his head and chuckles. 

“You’re just now figuring out Stark’s master plan?” You kiddingly scoffed as Bucky rolled his eyes at you. “Ya know, you really could use a break.” 

“I got all the time in the world to have a break.” 

“Oh yeah? When?” You challenged him. 

“When I’m dead,” Bucky winked at you before walking off to his room, announcing that he was going to take shower. 

“Oh before I go, dinner later?” 

“Depends will you be sitting with me or sitting from afar like the last couple nights?” You kid with him and he rolled his eyes. 

“You’re a real pain in my ass, ya know that?” 

“Hey, someone’s gotta be,” you winked and Bucky turned away fast, mainly to hide the blush spreading on his cheeks.

“See ya later,” Bucky called out to you. 

—

Debating on whether or not was a good time to pull yourself away from the amazing view of the ocean, you had to sadly leave your peaceful space on the balcon and go meet Bucky for dinner. A quick shower and a few shimmies into the beautiful gown Natasha lent you later, you were on your way to dinner. 

Tony gave his team nothing but the best. From top of the line technology and the best clothes money could buy, he made sure that you and Bucky got a luxurious treatment while on this vacation. This included dinner at the most refined restaurant on the ship’s deck. It was so exclusive that you needed to book your reservation there first before you booked your tickets for the cruise. Of course, Tony being Tony, and your title as an Avenger, made it easy for the restaurant to put your names down in their coveted black book of mile long reservations. 

Now here you are, standing a little ways from the hostess desk waiting for your beloved co-worker. While you waited you took in the beautiful scenery of the restaurant. So classy and elegant you felt out of place even if you had on an expensive gown. You were so caught up in the extravagance that you didn’t notice a hand at the small of your back. 

“You clean up nice,” Bucky stood next to you in a suit and tie. He had recently cut his hair before the trip, but that didn’t stop him from throwing in a little gel. 

“I could same the same for you too. New product?” The two of you made small talk as Bucky gave Tony’s name for reservation. 

Unbeknownst to the two of you, the hostess eyed both and you up and down and warily took you to your table. 

—

Dinner was fantastic. Like the restaurant’s atmosphere the food also had an elegant taste to it. The wait staff was equally classy and charming to all the patrons too. You and Bucky were sipping on expensive wine and dining on fine desserts until a waiter, not yours, approached you. 

“Did we enjoy everything so far?” Bucky looked at the man confused. 

“Yeah, yeah everything was great thank you,” being the polite person you are you gave the waiter a smile. 

“Well we love hearing that customers, let alone two Avengers, are enjoying the establishment. Anyways, I was sent to come tell you that the captain has requested your presence at his table overlooking the sea. A little birdie told me you two enjoy quite a view,” Bucky was on guard at all times during this exchange. It’s not that he didn’t trust the waiter it was that he wondered why their waiter wasn’t getting them. 

“Sounds good to me. C’mon Buck let’s go,” you stood up and began to follow the waiter. Bucky reluctantly got up and pulled your arm so that you were walking at his pace. 

“Don’t you think it’s a little fishy that right after we get done eating the captain wants to see us?”

“Oh Bucky, who cares! Maybe he didn’t want to interrupt us or something,” Bucky was always a paranoid person. 

“I just got a bad feeling about this that’s all,” you giggled and shook your head in attempt to brush off Bucky and not appear rude towards the waiter. 

“And here we are! Captain Richards will be out momentarily,” and just like that the waiter was gone leaving you and Bucky to your own devices. 

Not long after Captain Richards appeared. He offered you both a glass of wine and you both drank. Bucky was a little hesitant but decided to drink after you made a move to your second glass. Soon, one glass turned into almost half a bottle of expensive wine gone. You were swimming and Bucky was grinning like a mad man. 

“Sergeant, would you mind fetching me and this beautiful young lady another bottle? I’d get up but I don’t have your tolerance and can barely walk a straight line,” Bucky was happy to oblige and went to Richards quarters. 

“So when will you be leaving us Ms. Avenger?” Richards asks you. 

“Bucky and I dock in two days in Mexico. We were planning on flying back to New York,” you slowly got up and ran over to the balcony. Your drunken state was taking in the dark misty waters. 

“Well we will be missing you greatly Miss,” Richards has his hand on your back, lightly pressing you into the railing. “It’ll be such a shame that no one will be seeing you anymore, around the decks I mean,” you eyed the older man up and down. What did he just say?

“It’s such a shame, I do like you and your little partner but in order for us to continue our plans we can’t let the law, let alone a group of super freaks, ruin it,” with a harsh shove your body was lurched off the balcony. 

Your reflexes hit fast and you snapped out of your inebriated state. Last second you cling onto the very last bar of the balcony. Your heels were knock off and sunk into the water. 

“Little shit c’mere,” Richards growled as he stomped his heavy boot on your fingers. He crushed down so hard and you almost didn’t budge but your grip was weakening. He squished and scraped both hands successfully off the bar and you fell into the ocean. 

“Y/N? Captain? Is everything alright,” Bucky emerged from the captains quarters with a new bottle of wine. 

“Oh Sergeant, please help! Your comrade just flung herself overboard!” RIchard’s yelled. 

“What! Oh fuck, Stark’s gonna kill me! Hang on I’m coming! You gotta stop the boat. Alert the coast guard,” Bucky struggled to free himself of both shoes. He made is way over the balcony and plunged in to find you. 

“Will do Sergeant,” Richards grinned evilly when he heard a solid plunk in the water. “Will do.” The captain chuckled darkly before pulling up a com on his wrist, “the threats have been eliminated. Hail Hydra.”

—

13 hours missing

You awoke with a gasp. It felt like air had hit your lungs for the first time in ages. Your body was wet and the gown was sticking all over you, not to mention the sand in unwanted places. You barely had a chance to register your surroundings. 

“Bucky? Bucky!? Bucky are you here?!” You finally stood up, legs wobbling a little, and you tried to find your super human friend. 

“Oh fuck, Bucky are you okay?” After walking down a long strip of beach you found him. His face was planted in the sand and his shoes were long gone. He seemed like he was breathing but still unconscious. 

“BUCKY WAKE UP,” You yelled and pushed Bucky with all your might to turn him over. Bucky, much like you, awoke with a gasp and claimed as much fresh air as he could. 

“What? Huh, where are we? Y/N?! Oh my god, you’re okay?!” Bucky was a babbling mess and couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. 

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Richards threw me off the boat!”

“Threw you? He told me you got drunk and fell over! That fucking bastard!” 

Bucky began to explain how he jumped in after you and grabbed you. He saw the boat wasn’t stop so he tried his best to swim after it. Not long after he grew tired and the waves were picking up. Low and behold here you both are, trapped on a deserted island. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out. 

“We are so fucked,” after a while and sitting around and doing nothing you and Bucky decided to make some type of shelter. 

“You think they’ll find us?” You questioned. 

“They have to. They’ll know somethings up when we don’t come back,” Bucky finished putting together a leaf type hut and was now getting wood for a fire. 

“What are we going to do?” 

“There’s nothing to do. We gotta wait it out and hope they’ll come looking for us,” Bucky sighed and hauled over some wood from fallen tree branches. 

You could only hope Tony and the team would come looking for you. Neither you or Bucky had an idea of how long you’ve been on the island. Clearly not long enough that neither of your starved, but still there was no matter is finding out when someone would rescue you. 

—

One week missing

“Buckyyyyyyy,” you groaned irritably, “I’m so hot and so hungryyyy.”

It had been over one week since you both fell overboard. No one had come to rescue you yet  and your were becoming impatient. 

“I told you that if you’re so hot to rip that fucking dress and make it shorter,” Bucky grumbled. 

Bucky had been done with your shit by now. The days and nights were so unbearably hot that you both were losing your minds. Bucky had ripped up his suit into shorts a wore a t-shirt under his suit. It wasn’t much but it had to do. 

“But I can’t! Natasha will kill me if I rip her dress,” you whined for the millionth time. 

“The heat’s gonna kill you before she does,” you gasped at Bucky’s rude comment. 

“Don’t say that. Don’t say we’re gonna die out here!” 

“I’m not gonna die but you will if you don’t rip the fuck dress,” Bucky’s voice grew louder. You’d be damned if you had to rip this dress. 

“Buckyyy,” you whined his name again. 

“WHAT!” Bucky yelled in irritation causing you to shift back from where you were sitting. 

“I’m hot,” you really were driving him and yourself stir crazy. 

“I can’t fucking stand this shit. C’mere,” Bucky lunges towards you and you tried to scramble away. He was fast and grabbed your ankle. 

“Aww you’re hot sweetheart? Lemme fix that,” he grabbed the gown at the bottom and tore a big slit. It was torn all the way up your thigh. It showed everything and nothing at the same time. 

You tried to kick him off but he worked too fast. Bucky made his way towards the middle of the dress and ripped right below where your breasts were. He easily made the expensive gown a shitty slit skirt and a crop top. Sure, it felt a little cooler, but now you almost felt naked in front of your co-worker. 

“The next time I hear you complaining I won’t hesitate to rip that outfit to shreds,” you choked back a gasp as Bucky got up and made his way to get more firewood. You almost missed the hint of lust in his eyes

—

Two weeks missing 

Your body was dirty, your stomach barely filled, and damn it it was getting more and more hot as the seconds ticked away. You starts to lose hope that anyone would come looking for you and Bucky. Speaking of, Bucky was becoming more and more irritated with each passing day. 

His words to you were clipped responses or inaudible grunts. You were almost afraid to ask him a question in fear that he would kill you. Of course he wouldn’t, but you didn’t want to hear him yelling at you anymore. 

Night had fallen and the bugs started to come out. Icky mosquitos leaving scratchy bite marks all over both your skin. Bucky would slap a few on himself every so often, but you kept scratching away. 

“Stop doing that,” Bucky spoke as you dig your too long nails into your skin, “you’re gonna bleed from all that scratching.”

“I can’t, it’s so itchy. How am I suppose to get them to stop?”

“There’s a hot spring a little ways into the woods, I can show you and you can shower off,” he tried to be nice, but his irritably was peaking through. 

“Ew gross, you bathed in there too,” you didn’t want to get naked on this island, hell with how Bucky’s been acting who knows what he might do if he saw you naked. 

“So I’m gross now? After all I’ve been doing for you? You think I’m gross,” Bucky’s eyes narrowed in on you. 

“It’s just, you used that spring too, so isn’t that like contaminated?” You tried your best to put the words nicely but Bucky wasn’t having it. 

Bucky chuckled, “I can’t believe this. I gave us a shelter, I’ve been busting my ass to get you food, fuck I even dived into the fucking ocean to save your ass. And you,” he seethed, “you—you are so fucking ungrateful and I’ve just about HAD IT!” 

You froze in your spot as Bucky yelled at you. Tears were brimming your eyes as you tried not to let them fall. He was right, you have been acting a little bratty, but you chalked it up to blame on minimal food and heat distress. 

A tear spilled from your eye and you looked down to wipe it away. The last thing you wanted was for Bucky to see you cry. What you didn’t realize, was that Bucky made his way over to with hatred in his eyes. 

In one swift motion, Bucky grabbed you by your knotty hair and positioned you across his lap. Your eyes widened as you began to kick and push yourself away. You only stopped when Bucky laid a smack on your ass. 

“Stop moving,” Bucky spanked you again. 

“I’ve been nothing but kind to you and this is how I get treated,” *smack*, “given you shelter,”  *smack*, “food,”  *smack*, “would it be too hard to get a simple THANK,”  *smack*, “YOU,”  *smack*. 

Bucky assaulted your bottom five more times before he heard you crying. He pushing you off of him and you laid face down in the sand. He brushed off your cries and walked past you. 

“C’mon let’s get to bed. If I so much as hear a sniffle your ass will be redder than a sun burn,” Bucky sauntered into the hut leaving you in the sand to collect yourself. 

—

Three weeks missing 

You avoided Bucky like the plague. The only time you would see him was when you went to bed. He left you your food for the day but you ate it long after he went to sleep. It was a good system, for you at least. All that was on your mind was forming a plan out of here. 

The day was no hotter than the last, if not more. You ended up tearing off more of the gown and made a short skirt for yourself. The only problem was the little slit but you didn’t care. It’s not like anybody was going to be looking, or touching there, anyways. 

That’s another thing you were mad about. Almost a month since you got stranded and you were feeling deprived of touch. You wouldn’t dare touch yourself with Bucky sleeping next to you, and sadly your discreet toy was hidden away in your suitcase. It was probably tossed overboard so the ship wouldn’t be held responsible.

You gnawed at the tiny wet sensation between your legs. You wouldn’t be lying if Bucky’s half naked form wasn’t turning you on. Oh, and getting spanked had you withering a little during the nights. You longed to find some sexy guy on the cruise that would fuck your brains out. Sure, Bucky isn’t ugly, but he is your co-worker and you don’t like mixing business and pleasure. 

“FUCK, Y/N!” You heard a scream coming from the woods. 

“Y/N, HELP ME PLEASE!” You ran towards where the screams were coming from. 

You saw Bucky stumble out of the woods. His shirt was off and only a pair of boxers on. Bucky was grabbing his thigh which was dripping blood. 

“Oh my god, Bucky what happened!” 

“I was bathing in the fucking hot spring and when I got out this stupid fucking snake fucking bit my fucking thigh,” he was curing up a storm and clenching his jaw hard. 

“Was it poisonous?” 

“Y/N, I don’t know, but if it is then you need to suck the poison out,” Bucky started to lose his balance. You held him up but he kept sinking down. 

“Please, I’m sorry, help me,” Bucky has tears in his eyes and was shaking. 

“Okay, okay I’ll help you,” you knelt down to where to bite was and put your lips to his thigh. 

Bucky gasped as you lightly started to suck. Once you thought you had a good amount you spit it off to the side. You put your lips back and sucked vigorously. Bucky felt himself growing hard and tried to maintain it. 

You weren’t paying much attention to the main above you. He was tending up and you had minimal time get as much poison out of him, depending if he had any or not. You heard Bucky gasping above you but ignored him. He loosened up a bit and put his hand in your hair. He stroked it a little as you tried to pull away to spit more poison out. Then, he stopped you. 

“That’s enough, baby. I think you got it,” you were still faced with his thigh until you slowly began to look up. He was hard. Very hard. His boxers had a tiny wet spot on this and he was trying to contain himself. 

“I-I could go if you-“

“No,” Bucky finally looked down at you, “your good with your mouth aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

You blushed furiously and looked away. Bucky’s fingers tilted your chin up towards him. 

“Don’t be shy now,” he paused, “fuck I really wanna kiss you,” Bucky licked his lips and eyes you up and down. 

“Then why don’t you?” Your voice spoke before your brain could process anything. 

“Come down here sweetheart,” your body was vibrating with ecstasy and excitement. 

You slowly crawled up to him and planted your lower body in between the leg that wasn’t bitten. You laid on top of him and stared at him for a moment. The moment lasted to long for Bucky’s liking and he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward. 

Your lips met with a crash. The kiss was opened mouthed and sloppy. The exposed parts of your warm bodies was enough to send a pool into your panties. Bucky moaned deeply into the kiss. He tried pulling you even closer.

Your mind was swirling around in lustful thoughts. It almost didn’t register to you the way you ground down on his thigh. You both moaned. Bucky urged you on with his hand firmly on the small of your back. 

You started to grind harder and slower wanting to savor it all. Bucky finally broke the miss and you both gasped for air. You kept your forehead pressed against his. 

“Baby, let me touch you,” he rasped out. 

“B-but it feels s’good,” you moaned getting wetter by the second. 

“I’ll make it feel even better, princess.”

You begrudgingly rolled on to your back beside Bucky. Bucky careful got on his side and looked you up and down. He groaned and licked his lips taking you in. Slowly he removed your top. 

“Think you can get the rest off for me, honey?” You shook your head and rapidly pulled off the mini skirt and your panties. 

Bucky was hard as a rock and began to slowly palm himself through his boxers. You removed his hand and palmed him yourself. Bucky trialed a hand down your body all the way to your aching pussy. 

“So wet, did I make you this wet, honey?” You bit your lip and shook your head. You began palming him faster. 

“As much as I enjoy this I think he would like skin to skin contact,” you eyes widened more as Bucky began to circle your sweet little nub. 

You dipped your hand under his boxers. He was big, really fucking big, and he was leaking from the tip. You started to stroke him slowly and firmly. Bucky made quick work and started rubbing around your mound. 

He dipped a finger in and you gasped loudly. Bucky smirked and began his work. Quick thrusts in and out making the most beautiful squelching sounds you both ever heard of. The stimulation was setting you into overdrive as your stroked him faster. 

 “Princess,” you moaned out, “you’re soaking daddy’s fingers,” Bucky stopped all movement and looked up at you. You seemed unfazed and still withering in pleasure. Of course, you thought that by stopping movement he wanted a response, what you didn’t know was that he had just outed himself and his secret kink. 

“M’sorry daddy. I-I just like it so much,” little whimpers left your throat as you thrusted yourself on his fingers. Bucky was shocked that you responded but had no intentions of stopping you from fucking yourself on his fingers. 

“It’s okay baby, daddy likes it so much too,” Bucky picked you his motioned as a fast pace. 

You stopped stroking him due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving. He was like a jack rabbit thumping in and out of you. He then pulled his finger out of you completely. His big palm rubbed you all over. From clit to pussy you were drenched in your own arousal. 

“Gotta get you wet, gotta get you ready for daddy’s thick cock,” Bucky was a madman on a mission.

Your orgasm hit you like a bullet. You arched your back and screamed Bucky’s name. By the time you came down from your high your pretty sure your soul left your body. 

“Don’t think we are done just yet, princess.” 

—

Four weeks missing 

“FUCK, DADDY!” You screamed out as Bucky fucked you harshly against the tree. 

Ever since the snake bite incident, you and Bucky has been non stop fucking. Turns out you both needed to burn off that heat distress and having sex repeatedly was the way to do it. 

Morning, noon, and night Bucky had you on top of, under, ass up, mouth on, and sometimes back to, at all times. His cock became your new favorite seat. You two wouldn’t go anywhere without each other. Even while you were eating or bathing his cock stayed planted in you at all times. The days were hot but the night got cool after some intensive “exercise”. 

Now here you are, bare naked up against a tree getting pounded by your co-worker. Or were you technically lovers now? Doesn’t matter, all that matters is you cumming. 

“C’mon baby, let it out. Let it all out for daddy, baby,” after that day Bucky wouldn’t be Bucky anymore. You were always princess, honey, sweetheart, or baby. Bucky would always be daddy. 

You did slip up your third time fucking the first night by calling him Bucky. He growled and pulled out of you and spanked you till your ass was cherry red. You liked it and he liked it. It was like the pleasure you’ve both been dreaming of. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna ugh I’m gonna fucking explode in this pussy, honey. Would you like that? This little pussy fucking flooded in my cum. Say it baby, say you want my cum,” Bucky then laid you back on a giant rock and fucked you harder. 

“Daddy I want your cum. I want your cum in me and I want it all over me. Fuck daddy please please PLEASE!” You screamed out as you came again. 

Bucky moaned as he released into you. Give him five more minutes and he’ll be ready to go again. He was determined to make you body full of his cum. 

“Turn around baby, let’s see that gorgeous ass.”

—

“There,” Steve shouted over the radar.

“What? Did you find something?” Wanda ran over to where Steve was sitting. 

“I think I gotta hit on Bucky’s signal! Maybe Y/N is there with him?” Steve says. 

“We can only hope. Thank god Tony put that tracker in Bucky’s arm. We would’ve never found them,” Wanda says looking at the radar. 

“Hey if you want I can get a camera down there to see if they are there. Better we know now and not just see a random metal arm sticking out of the sand,” Wanda and Steve shot Clint a death glare. 

“Geez tough room. Okay sending a camera down,” Clint maneuvers the little drone camera to where Bucky’s signal is pinging from. 

Slowly the camera makes its way through the beachy landscape and into the wooded area of the island. There, the drone picks up two blurry figures. 

“Hey guys, I think I got something,” Clint calls Steve and Wanda over. 

“Is it them?”

“Maybe it’s a bear?” 

“Clint there are no bears on an island.” 

“Are they- are they naked?” Wanda’s eyes widen as the picture got clearer. 

“OH MY GOD MY EYES!” 

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

whumptober

12 October: grief

Bruce Wayne/Clark Kent

"Could you tell me what happened?" Bruce asked.

Clark paused to consider the question, or, rather, the shape of it. In the kitchen at the lake house, steel and black marble surfaces dimly glittered from the glow of a single lamp on the windowsill. He didn't need light to see by, but he found himself almost desperately curious to parse Bruce's inquiry and, in the effort, to watch Bruce for some further clue. 'Could' had been proffered. The chosen form wasn't an order. Bruce's posture spoke of ease, as though he asked nothing tasking from the barstool opposite the one Clark sat in. What did Bruce assume he'd say; what would be the subsequent result for any given response?

Clark was rarely bothered by inclement weather. The hollow feeling in his chest was not caused by the extant temperature of the room.

“I understand Diana's the one who's concerned," he said, "and it's on me to reassure her--"

"We're all concerned." Bruce held up a hand before Clark could protest. "We know Circe didn't hurt you physically, other than throwing you into animated suspension for a few minutes to keep you busy. We don't think your ability to do your job has been compromised. We're not." He stopped and looked at Clark. "We are not worried about that." 

It seemed to Clark that Bruce struggled, just a little, on the word 'we'.  

"Circe showed me something," Clark said, feeling some part of himself begin to slip out of kilter, as if he were sinking beneath a sheet of ice, paralyzed. "Not a dream, nor a hallucination." He cleared his throat. "Or I don't think it was." 

Two heartbeats silenced, blackened agony gaping in him wide and infinite. 

Bruce had gone motionless, watching Clark with dismay plain in his expression. Bruce hated missing things, Clark knew; he would hold himself personally responsible if something had harmed Clark and he hadn't even known to try to prevent it.

Clark didn't have the energy to bear the way Bruce was looking at him, not with having slept at most no more than an hour or two at a stretch for going on two weeks. Easily remedied. He closed his eyes. 

"What she showed me, I." The words stuck. He pried and a few more came loose. "There's another universe, or timeline -- another Earth with another us." Clark took a shallow breath; an echo of pain cracked against his sternum. "And in it, I'm everything you've ever feared I could become."

He squeezed his eyes shut more tightly. His fingertips dug into his palms. 

"Whatever you think you were shown, you're not him." Bruce spoke at a pace so steady it had to be deliberate. "Clark," he said, his voice just a little sharper on the name. "You must know that." 

"It doesn't make the people he's killed less dead." Clark wanted to spit the words out like blood, but instead he'd barely raised his voice. He knew Bruce would hear anyway.

"And that's what you've been grieving," Bruce said. "That other world." 

Clark shook his head. He finally opened his eyes, to Bruce waiting with as much patience as Clark had ever witnessed from him. 

"It should be, I guess. Those victims deserve to be mourned." Clark uncurled his fingers, kept his stare on the furrows in his palms. His lungs were filled to drowning. Saltwater stung the back of his throat, his eyes. "The other me. He loses his family. It… Everything he does afterwards is because they die at his hands, or that's his excuse, anyway." 

He could feel, at the furthest edge of his senses, the way Bruce was counting his own breaths to keep from interrupting, how intensely he was listening. Clark knew it should have been a comfort, but there were all these words left, a chain of them winding around his chest in a vise as crushing as Circe's magic had ever hoped to be. 

Because Bruce was being kind and because he was his best friend, Clark managed to say, "I keeping thinking about how when I was a kid, I was scared of everything. Of being found out, of what people might do to me. Of hurting someone accidentally." Words like ropes, like rusted nails, like knives that would flay humans with the lightest pressure. "Maybe most of all, I was scared I would never have a family of my own." 

He was almost out of air. He inhaled shakily. Too late to quit. 

"I knew my parents loved me; I knew Lana and Pete loved me. The idea that I'd never find anybody to share my life with -- it was sorta more terrible than I could even let myself think about." He gave a small laugh. His cheeks were wet, and Bruce's eyes were too dark to look into. "But for all that, I never thought. I never thought it might be better if I didn't find...if it really was dangerous for people to be with me…"

As a writer, Clark weighed words constantly and therefore understood their limitations. Sometimes, however, they were all that was left of the truth. "I'm a weapon," he said, the words tumbling out like flat stones he wouldn't be able to budge once they landed. He'd closed his eyes again. "I'm not supposed to be someone's home." 

There was a noise only Clark's abilities would've caught, as though a thin blade had been cleanly slid into the most vulnerable point beneath a ribcage. He didn't catch up quickly enough to realize he himself wasn't the one who'd made the sound before Bruce said, "You haven't eaten much recently."

Clark blinked. "What?"

Bruce's expression had changed to open, neutral, downright placid. "Food, Clark."

"Ah. No. I haven't been hungry." Clark shifted on the barstool. He blinked again, wiped his face, clasped his hands together. Some strange veiled heaviness had been lifted from his peripheral vision, from his shoulders and hips. 

Bruce was stretching his legs and standing up, headed a few feet to the large refrigerator. "I should call your fretful mother and tell her you're wasting away."

"Don't. Guilt tripping me by invoking my mom is dirty pool." Was this what whiplash felt like? Clark wondered. He couldn't remember. "You don't have patrol tonight?"

"It's raining," Bruce said, like something as common in Gotham as rain was a well-known Batman deterrent.

Clark hadn't noticed the water sheeting down the windows, nor the insistent drum of a downpour on the roof; probably not the best sign of mental stability. "Pizza'd be all right, if ChowWagon will deliver out this far."

"They would. I'm Bruce Wayne," Bruce said with the flair he usually reserved for taking the piss with reporters who weren't Clark. He tugged open the bottom freezer drawer and removed a large disc. "But we already have pizza."

"Convenient. Alfred?"

"Hn. I can forage for sustenance all on my own." Bruce poked at the oven display. "I can even toss a crust and slow-simmer a red sauce." He picked at an edge of plastic wrap until he figured out how to unwrap the pizza and made a cagey face at Clark for a second. "Don't suppose you'd care to share who other-you was married to."

Clark suppressed a groan. He sighed and said, "Lois. You absolutely cannot mention it to her, ever."

Bruce quirked up an eyebrow. "Noted."

"It's not-- She's great." Clark winced. Well, she was. She was one of his smartest, scariest friends. He hadn't been anguished specifically about her counterpart's death in another reality, or even the thought of her and a child they might have together dying because of him. His grief, he'd discovered, was less bound to them, there, and more rooted in his own terror in this world. "I'm keeping this info in my arsenal, for future occasions where she's so mad at me she's about to kill me."

Bruce's other eyebrow appeared to have an opinion on the matter.

"I'm counting on being able to make her laugh hard enough to forget why she's about to kill me," Clark said.

"Good plan." As Bruce placed the twelve inch pie on the middle rack, he said, all mildness, "You know why your conclusion that 'Being alone forever is best' is bullshit."

It didn't seem like the kind of not-question he needed Clark to answer. 

"First," Bruce said, "to merely temporarily remove you from action, a powerful sorceress tortured you for one hundred and eighty-nine seconds with visions of another universe the existence of which you cannot possibly be expected to either confirm or ameliorate. Second, whoever you saw in those visions who looked like you isn't you. Worth repeating. Third, you are not responsible for him." 

Clark didn't quite believe him, and didn't quite trust Bruce believed such logic either. But Clark could let him finish his lecture. Bruce had opened the long fridge door and taken out two beers in bottles. He gave one to Clark, pausing for a second as if making sure Clark was paying attention. He sat back on his barstool, and Clark clutched at the cold glass with both hands.

"Fourth. There aren't any guarantees about what may or may not happen to anyone who becomes part of your family," Bruce said, like it wasn't the biggest understatement he could utter. "You meet people every day who've suffered the worst, most unimaginable tragedies, sometimes of their own doing, and they take that pain and loss and accomplish astonishing things with it. They found non-profits and fund scholarships, serve their sentences, advocate for victims' rights or new legislation. They get better. They live to honor their loved ones. Most people, in mourning or otherwise, don't become homicidal despots. You're not as strong as them?" He took a drink of beer in a manner that Clark would describe as almost smug.

Clark thought about both pinching and hugging him. The heaviness in his shoulders had come back. He was hunched forward, trying to breathe against it. He wasn't sure he was even strong enough to keep having this one conversation.

When Bruce spoke again, there was no trace of arrogance in his tone. "What are we up to, fifth? Fifth, not to be mean about who you were as a kid, but." He tapped his fingernail against his bottle. His thoughts on Kansas farm life and Clark's once-upon-a-time place therein had been the source of delicate ribbing as long as they'd known each other's real identities. 

Bruce gave a rueful head tilt. "You missed a key element of the bigger picture when you were younger and you're doing it now, and not just because of course you, you specifically, are supposed to have a family." His voice sounded a little odd. But then he went on, turning so that he was looking out the window. "One person isn't really a family." More softly, he said, "If you decide to keep everyone away, it also means you're keeping out someone who might want to be your home."

Clark's hands seemed too stiff. He put the beer on the counter to keep from shattering the bottle and opened his hands, feeling the cold lift away from them. When he looked at Bruce's profile, he saw him exhale very, very slowly, as though he were lowering to the ground something immense but easily fractured. Clark heard the rain on the metal roof of a barn seventeen miles away and the ticking the oven made as it came up to full temperature. He waited until Bruce looked over at him again. He sat perfectly still and held his gaze as gently as he could. The minutes passed between them, quiet, shadowed, and warm, until Clark was able to find a place to start whatever was to come next.

"What's on the pizza?" he asked eventually, not bothering to be embarrassed at the roughness in his voice.

Bruce smiled small at the corner of his mouth. "Mushrooms, tomatoes, green olives. Asiago with extra mozzarella." 

An order in a greasy pizzeria years ago, the two of them battle-wearied and starving at three a.m. One of the first times, perhaps, Clark had sat across from Bruce and thought of him as anything more than a teammate. 

"My favorite," Clark said, reaching for Bruce's wrist.

"I know," Bruce said, letting him.

[coralinemybessyjk08insuranc-blog]

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[your-qualityroofing]

When Is The Best Time To Replace A Roof?

Are you struggling to figure out when the best time to replace a roof is? There are a few things to consider when deciding the right time to have your roof replaced. Is your roof in desperate need of repairs right away? What’s the weather like in your area during the different seasons? And, more importantly, when is your roofer going to be available to get the job done?

It’s critical that you plan a roof replacement according to your needs and availabilities. The best time to have your roof replaced really depends on you. It’s important that you plan ahead for this is a big job. You should get at least 3 quotes from different roofing companies to ensure you get the best price possible. And while you’re calling around for estimates, be sure to ask about their availability and scheduling options. Here’s some more tips for choosing the best time to have your roof replaced:

Roof Replacements During the Spring

If you’re planning on having your roof replaced during the spring season, you should know that it’s best to schedule for this in the winter. Scheduling a roof replacement early on, before you plan on having the services done, will ensure that you can get a spot in the books and gives you adequate time to prepare yourself. 

Many people start thinking about having their roof replaced in the spring. This is partially due to the weather change because it’s easier to perform maintenance on your home when the weather isn’t so frigid. But, it’s also because winter weather can be damaging to an older roof. This means repairs are more likely to be necessary following a heavy winter. 

Spring is considered the best time for most areas of the U.S. to have a roof replaced because of the weather. Asphalt shingles require time to adhere to the roof and create a sealing that sets the shingles in place. It’s easiest for this to happen if it’s not too hot or cold out which is why spring is considered the best time to plan a roof replacement. There are still weather conditions to consider during the spring, such as rain, that can delay the process. As long as your contractor comes fully prepared this shouldn’t be a problem, but it’s still important to take this into consideration. 

Another good reason to consider purchasing during winter and installing in spring is because some roofers offer lower pricing during the winter in an effort to keep everyone busy. Most construction businesses see the biggest drop in sales from Christmas to Tax Day (most likely due to money constraints created by Christmas and alleviated by tax refunds). Because of this, some roofers may discount their prices during this slow period. 

Roof Replacements During the Summer

With the weather staying consistently warm, summer makes a good time for contractors to install a new roof. Not only does the summer weather provide better working conditions, but the materials and tools needed to complete the job will better function as well. More specifically, late spring to early summer is the most prime time for a roof replacement to happen. There’s less chance of rain, and it isn’t too hot yet, which makes it perfect for roofing contractors to start construction on. 

It’s important to keep in mind that summer is a VERY busy time for roofers because of the optimal weather conditions. This means that scheduling an appointment may be difficult and should be made early on. Also, keep the pricing in mind. Prices are going to be higher during the busier seasons, so you should account for this when you plan the best time to have your roof replaced. 

Be wary of choosing a time of year where the area you live in is extremely hot. The blistering heat can affect working conditions which will consequently affect working hours. This can lead to unwanted delays. And, high temperatures can cause asphalt shingles to melt which will make them less durable, resulting in damaged pieces. Try to avoid torrid weather conditions and schedule around the hottest part of the summer season. 

Roof Replacements During the Fall   

If you research when is the best time to replace a roof, most results will come up as fall being the best time. As stated earlier, this is when roofing companies are the busiest. Most people are trying to prepare for the winter season and it’s common for roof repairs to be on that list of things to get done. 

Fall is a great time to have your roof replaced because the temperature’s generally don’t get below 45°F or get above 85°F. There’s also very little rainfall. This allows shingles to set and seal properly without the use of special tools or techniques. The weather also lets roofers work longer days and can get the project finished faster. 

 It is very important to remember how busy this time of year is for roofing contractors, so you should book your roof replacement early in advance. Booking too late can result in delay and sometimes contractors are even forced to take on roofs that are in serious need of repair, forcing your replacement to be pushed back. If you are planning on having your roof replaced in the fall, you should plan it at least 2 months in advance. 

Roof Replacements During the Winter

Winter is not the most convenient time to have your roof replaced, but in cases of emergency or if it’s the only time you have in your schedule to have it done, it can be done. Because of the freezing temperatures, winter can pose a lot of problems for replacing your roof. If temperatures remain below 40*F for more than a month then thermal sealing is delayed and wind damage can occur until the temperatures rise high enough for the seal to activate. Shingles need adequate heat in order to seal and set properly and in the winter this can sometimes take days or even weeks to happen. Snow, extreme cold, and sleet can also make working conditions unsafe for contractors. This may cause delays on the progress of your roof, which is not ideal in the winter.

While you may be concerned about the quality of your roof if you decide to have it replaced in the winter, you should know this isn’t true. Most roofing companies are prepared for all sorts of inclement weather. 

There are some benefits to having a roof replacement done in the winter though. For instance, you won’t be competing for time slots because most people avoid such repairs in the winter. And, if you’re lucky, you could also potentially get a discount on services because most companies are pretty slow during this season.

East Fork Roofing – We’re Here to Help

If the shingles on your house or mobile home are buckling, peeling, or lifting, we are ready to help. We can help you get your roof in tip top shape, anytime of the year. No need to ask when is the best time to replace a roof because we are prepared for anything. Contact East Fork Roofing, Reno’s roof replacement specialists, to get started today and get on your way to a new, long-lasting roof.

The post When Is The Best Time To Replace A Roof? appeared first on East Fork Roofing LLC.

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[glitteryyouthstudentworld]

Although I share the many negative aspects of my life, I merely do so in order to share the journey. There is no point in campaigning for reform through sharing my own experiences with only half the story. For me though, it is the positive aspects which not only mean more but are more important. Many lessons can be learnt from positivism just as they can from a negative experience. To blow one’s own trumpet, without coming across as egotistical or even sycophantic, isn’t an easy balance, however, I am extremely proud of what I managed to achieve during my time as a serving prisoner, why shouldn’t I be? I believe it shows that even in an environment lacking in hope but full of despair that there can be a positive end result (eventually), especially when people believe in you and support you, an experience I’m still finding just as humbling.

Another important aspect in my life, and an importance not lost on me, is education. In this instance, I, of course, am referring to education within secure environments, although not always in relation to academia, however, I believe it will also highlight the overall importance in the subject of education (excuse the pun). Do I personally wish I was able to gain my education in the conventional way? No! Not really. A reason perhaps for my featured image?

Little did I know, as an innocent eight-year-old, I would be embarking on a journey of education, along with a training programme unlike any other that would see the barometer ‘set fair’ for my current status.

My secure environment education began ironically – and coincidentally not long after being kicked out the education system as a 14-year-old – within a secure unit. Ironically, coincidentally? You choose, but I spent my 16th and 18th birthdays in a secure environment setting. My 21st, although spent in freedom, is still one I wish to forget due to my mum passing away two weeks later and two days before her 60th. My mum and dad due to celebrate their ruby wedding anniversary Boxing Day later that year. I’ve never really liked Christmas, or birthdays come to that, since.

My education of empathy began a lot later on in my life. It was in 2005, whilst at HMP Blundeston, where I found the wonders attached to mentoring. My first role was with Shannon Trust, as a what was known then, Toe-by-Toe mentor, this would quickly be followed by becoming a listener trained by the Samaritans. Both roles remain as important to me as they did 14 years ago, and I am pleased to be able to continue to support both these incredible charities now and in the future.

My education of secure environment education, although a few dabbles in between, started in earnest at HMP Wayland in 2009. It actually started through no choice of my own. This was due to an unproven case of suspicion which led to SIR’s, a ghosting and a security file. Education the only option available to me. A position, considering my actual guilt at the time, extremely acceptable to me, and one I used to my own advantage. Cass Evans is the lady I acknowledge as to who unlocked the initial quest for knowledge and citizenship. The bug became like an addiction; however, this addiction was far healthier and far, far less expensive than the illegal drugs and alcohol I used to be best friends with.

It all started with a City & Guilds level 2 in ‘Assisted Learning Support’. The classroom I was assisting in at the time was English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL). I’ll probably be shot by the PC brigade but the only way I can describe that classroom is to compare it to the late 70’s, early 80’s British sitcom ‘Mind Your Language’, but our classroom was full of mutual respect. If only some of our multi-cultural communities experienced that room, it was a joy to be a part of it.

I was asked by Cass to enrol in a new class she would be tutoring herself, and so a few weeks later I started my next City & Guilds course. A level 3 one this time in: Preparing to Teach in the Lifelong Learning Sector (PTLLS). PTLLS did absolutely nothing for me following my eventual release in August 2010 (I entered the system May 08). However, what it did enable me to do, was to fulfil my unplanned plan I knew nothing about. Almost bang on with the systems predictions, within 12 months (have to keep to the reoffending schedule that was expected of us), almost to the day, in August 2011 I started a new, smaller sentence, this time 18 months. Aside from a 2-week, necessary break, I completed the whole of the 18 months in prison. This was due to the strict licence conditions placed on me that I didn’t agree with or wish to accept, along with a residential condition of an AP (not my first, nor ever successful). The nature of the hostel (and not mine) placing even more, in my opinion, restrictions of movement and, therefore, extra pressure to conform. Not the best mix. So, after being released on the 29th February 2012 I was recalled back to prison where I was free once again. Being institutionalised has that effect. Education, empathy and a whole load of citizenship are what I take from prison. Lock-down, inclement weather and the occasional disagreement contained within the unwritten instruction manual, not only that I had other things, more important things, like change and reform to worry about rather than worry about the things I couldn’t control. But I did take pleasure in closing my own door before last orders, it can be difficult to get to be alone in prison sometimes. Then again, with education in my life, along with its many characters and personalities more numerous than my own, I wasn’t ever alone, even when at my loneliest. That for me is education in a nutshell, it just keeps on giving, and freely.

I was released from this term on the last day of November in 2012. My liberty this time lasting until the following July, when attempting to run away from myself to the beautiful, picturesque area of the Brecon Beacons in the Rhondda Valleys of Tylorstown, South Wales, I found myself, on remand, in Knox Road again. This time, however, HMP Cardiff and not HMP Norwich, trust me, the irony wasn’t lost in the reception of Cardiff. I was successful with a judge in chambers bail application and at the end of November, part of my conditions was to stay with family in Kent. A call from my brief, the second week of December informing me the case had been thrown out by the crown court, meant at least Christmas that year was an enjoyable one. But the following summer would see me hit with new bail conditions as I was facing a lump for a serious assault. Fortunately, this too was eventually thrown out due to the credibility of the victim/witness and his propensity for story telling through a police statement. The pressure consciously not felt, as I was a long way into my smorgasbord of drugs and alcohol once again by this stage to not worry. Not exactly father of the year material, more loyalty shown to a piece of foil and a pipe than to my children and grandchild. A few more bad choices would see me arrive at my inevitable rock bottom, fortunately, it wasn’t to be a one-way ticket. I was at the beginning of the end of my training, although education never stops. As student or teacher.

My final sentence was where my whole life finally made sense. I still had one lesson to learn in prison, you can’t run with the hares and the hounds. My character understood and controlled, my personalities placated and no more need for medication. Dedication would be my new medication. No more manufactured legal/illegal poison for me. I replaced the poison with an elixir of knowledge and understanding of the self. Have you ever tried to complete a jigsaw without looking at the picture?

As I mentioned my education of education within a secure environment started at HMP Wayland with the Curriculum Manager, Cass Evans, coincidentally it was taken over by the Curriculum manager at HMP Norwich, Deborah Stewart. I not only became Deborah’s mentor in the ICT class which she tutored, I also mentored courses I had completed myself.

Radio production, Health & Safety, presentation skills, creative writing with Jacob Huntley, a lecturer in English Literature at University of East Anglia and when on the curriculum, a self-awareness course.

              As well as completing a City & Guilds level 3 in Advice and Guidance through St. Giles Trust for whom I would become a peer adviser.

I know that sounds a lot but bear in mind that there were 11 education sessions during the working 5-day week. Plenty of classes, limited mentors however, B cat locals struggle to hold on to those they need sometimes. Early mornings, night-time bang up, Friday afternoons and most of the weekend was for me and my own studies. I was, and am, studying for a BSc (hons) degree in criminology and psychological studies through, in their 50th year, The Open University, funded by a student loan from Student Finance England. Although in the build up to my degree I studied for an access module with The Open University this time funded by, in this, their 30th year, the wonderful Prisoners’ Education Trust.

A collective responsibility, like nothing else before, behind me. I took the decision to change but I owe my appreciation to those that enabled it, including the uniformed men and women of our landings. An appreciation and gratitude that I fully intend in rewarding with my success.

Education makes the impossible, possible.

The number 42! "but I owe my appreciation to those that enabled it, including the uniformed men and women of our landings." Although I share the many negative aspects of my life, I merely do so in order to share the journey.