#Oven Installation near me

[welldonehomesolution]

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[rieamena]

take my hand until the sun goes down

kenji sato & baseball critic!reader headcanons

the first installment

requests put in by the lovely @despacito-uwu16 (bless your beautiful big brain)

marriage hcs ♡

we all know how much ken is in love with you but after that stunt he pulled at the championship game, it got a whole lot worse. he would not let a single chance to call you his fiancée pass by. afterparty following a challenging game? "can't make it, i miss my fiancée." team planning a dinner? "let me ask if my fiancée wants to come!" trying to get out of an agonizing conversation? "oh, my fiancée's calling me." he does not miss a BEAT when it comes to you. and after you got married!?!? oh let me tell you…

he physically cannot stop talking about you. something sweet that you did, how much you are for him, how much he loves you. its gotten so bad that his teammates have to tread lightly when speaking to him just to not trigger a 20 minute long rant about you (they're just jealous!!!). "i took the stray that showed up at my house the other night to the vet and it turns out she's really sick…" "really? that's so sad. you know, that actually reminds me of how my wife and i were eating bread this morning and she just looked so pretty." "how are those two things related!??!"

personal headcanon here but kenji cannot cook for the life of him. he can chop up his vegetables and take out seasoning from the cabinet but do NOT put that man near a stove. he will burn the kitchen down. unfortunately, kenji knew of his innate talent to someway somehow manage to cause chaos everytime he turned on an oven. so what did he do? he started watching you while you cook; occasionally taking notes on online recipes he'd think you'd like. every time you had to leave for an interview or babysit chiho, ken would load up the stove and start practicing. once he felt like he got good enough, kenji surprised you with breakfast in bed. french toast, eggs, bacon, and fruits were laid out on a platter, the delicious smell of it all and the sound of your husband coaxing you from your sleep. "wake up, my love. i made something for you~"

his petnames for you gradually changed as well. 'baby' turned into 'my love', 'my pretty girl' turned into 'my pretty wife', 'princess' stayed though. he loves your reaction when he calls you princess. your eyes become lidded as you look him up and down seductively, "so… are we gonna fuck or…?" ken threw you over his shoulder, teasing your body as he walked to the bedroom, "don't need to ask me twice. you gonna' ride me?" "that was my plan all along, pretty boy."

the first time you called kenji your husband to his face, he stopped thinking. his knees buckled, his heart started racing, his breathing got heavy. he genuinely thought he was about to die but he would be doing so in your arms so it was far more bearable. also!!! he has to kiss you at least three times a day or he dies (i dont make the rules!!). most days, kenji peppers your face in kisses in the morning, presses a kiss to your cheek or forehead in the afternoon, and gives you the most loving and deep kiss just before you head to bed

"[name], i have a crush on you. i love your voice and your smile and you're just so beautiful. i'm in love with you." ken wrapped you in his arms, speaking lowly "ken, we're married. we've been together for six years." "i know but still. just say you don't accept my confession." kenji huffed "no, i do! i have a crush on you too! the biggest one actually. please date me…"

children hcs ♡

kenji is THE girl dad. no questions asked. full stop.

kenji cried and i mean CRIED when you told him you were pregnant. you planned it in such a cute way honestly, it's a shame he didn't get it at first. you baked a couple buns and put them in the kitchen oven. simple, right? wrong. when ken got home and you kindly asked him to look in the oven for you, he was mildly confused. "you just have a lot of bread in here." you lightly pushed him out of the way, taking out every bun except one. "and now?" "you have one bread in the oven." "try again." "you have a roll in the oven." ken winked at you, swearing that he got it right this time. "not a roll but a…" "a….?" "there's a bun in the oven, kenji! i'm pregnant!" 

he was the (self-proclaimed) master of the art of ponytails and braids, often getting compliments from other parents on his skills. his mornings usually started with your daughter climbing onto his lap, handing him a hairbrush and a collection of colorful hair ties. kenji would carefully detangle her hair, his hands gentle but efficient, and then he would create intricate braids that she would show off to her friends at school

kenji also knew every princess, superhero, and storybook character by heart. his nights often ended with him sitting on the edge of his daughter's bed with you, reading her favorite stories with dramatic flair, his voice changing for each character, making her giggle and beg for one more chapter.

one evening, as the sun set and the playground began to empty, she ran up to her dad, breathless and excited. she had found a shiny pebble and declared it to be a magical gem. kenji knelt down, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and listened intently as they wove an elaborate tale about the pebble's powers. he played along, his imagination as vivid as theirs, and they spent the rest of the evening concocting a story that would become a cherished memory.

and at his baseball games, he would always scan the crowd for his two girls, and once he found you cheering loudly in the stands, he never failed to flash his signature smile and give you both a wink.

"i mean, she needs a sister. don't want her growing up an only child like me." kenji whispered as you placed your baby daughter into her bassinet. "darling, if you want another baby, just say that." "please please please, can we have another one??" "not right now. but yes ken, we can have another baby."

requests for them are open <3

taglist <3

@mochminnie @yellowheartz @ririkacchi @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @reit0o @luvshleyyy @lovingyeet @stickypaperstarlight @raee-dreeaaamz @rreasonablydumbb @bandolls @gingersnap126126 @automalvo @spiderboogie @shellspider @blogscach @nightingale047 @deadbydad @deadbydad-writes @phantomface

[thepringlesofblood]

ok so like. murderbot is famously anti-food right? but consider. we know secunits have a sense of smell. it mentions liking/not liking plenty of smells across the series (the 'dirty sock' human smell, ART's showers smelling good.)

where i'm going with this is that good food smells good. and i don't think mb has ever been around any good food. like think. academic surveys, mining installations, close-quarters space travel, these are not places or occasions known for their cuisine. its experience of food in an olfactory sense is probably limited to ration packs & corporate cafeteria lunch settings. until relatively recently, it had never even been through the 'human' parts of stations before, where it may have smelled some sort of actual food in passing. it's probably seen plenty of other types of food on media, but never smelled any of it.

so imagine. come with me on a mind journey. mb stopping in on Mensah's actual house for some reason during the day, and one of her spouses or something is baking gingerbread (very much the kind of cookie that fills up the whole house with good smells). like. would it even recognize it as being food necessarily? gingerbread is very much one of those smells that everyone tries to recreate and no one quite can. I imagine it's not thrilled with the concept of ovens in general (humans please stop putting your hands in/near hot things), but imagine it frantically trying to place the smell and mensah being like hey you good? and it being like theres. a smell. something must be wrong somewhere. and mensah being like oh no that's just gingerbread, tano's baking cookies. and it's like that's FOOD???

[passivenovember]

thinking about the first time Billy has cherry pie and the lengths he'll travel to have it again.

--

Fresh Cherries (part one)

--

Because it's December, Neil makes concessions.

Billy isn't allowed to do whatever he wants, never that, but his leash isn't vice-like. There's some give as he tests his boundaries when there's snow on the ground. Billy isn't sure why, but he isn't about to ruin a good thing.

But. Steve calls on a Wednesday night and says, "Come over."

Billy has to chew and swallow the automated response he's used to giving. It's a school night, Neil'd kill me, and feels like he just got dusted with sugar and put in the oven. Says, "Sure. Let me ask my dad."

"Just sneak out," Steve tells him.

Billy checks the alarm clock on his bedside table. "It's seven thirty."

"So?"

"So, it's not sneaking out hours."

"You're such a stick in the mud," Steve says.

"I'm not, I just--" don't feel like getting my teeth knocked in. Billy picks at the threads in his duvet cover. Counts to three. "I want to be a good influence on you, Harrington."

Steve squaks. Some bright, quaffed bird. "I'm a year older than you!"

"Only 'cause you got held back in the third grade," Billy says. He flops over onto his belly, bringing the phone with him as he tries not to get wrapped up in the chord when Steve laughs.

"This is what I get for telling you all my deepest darkest shit," Steve rustles on the other end of the line and Billy imagines him in bed, or laying on the couch. Maybe flat on the carpet, near the fireplace, shirtless and eating chocolate covered strawberries--

"C'mon," Steve says gently, "Be a bad influence, come hang out with me."

"My dad--"

"Just sneak out, Malibu."

Billy grunts, not wanting to tell the truth, kind of into how Steve's growing more and more whiny as the scene presses on. "I dunno."

"C'mon, it's not hard. I sneak out all the time. Out of my house and into my car and in through your window--"

"--That's different. Your parents don't give a shit where you are."

"You're right. Who cares, though? I'd still sneak out to see you even if they had a bell permanently installed around my neck."

Billy's heart feels like raw cookie dough, sticking to the ribs around him as he bakes and proves under some bright, shining, plastic feeling. "Are they home this week?"

"Nope," Steve says, and the P explodes over the phone line. Wipes out half the city in his excitement. "Mom bought a ton of shit to get me through 'till the twenty-eighth, so we can--"

"You're spending Christmas alone?"

"I always spend Christmas alone," Steve says. Quiet sits heavy, like a filed of snow, between them. Stretching out in every direction. "It's not a big deal. We celebrate Christmas in November."

"With Thanksgiving?"

"Nah, right at the start of November."

"Alongside Halloween?" Billy spats, sitting upright on the mattress. It jostles underneath him. He feels like a raft lost in some huge, freezing, disorienting sea.

He tries to get his barring's, tries to sink his heel into Steve's answering laugh but its hollow like a dead tree, "One year Santa was my dad, dressed as the Cowardly Lion." Steve says.

Billy tries to imagine it. He puts the hard, chilled seed of Steve's childhood near his molars and chews on it for a while, trying to envision the light refracted from all the ways childhood has to bend and contort to suit a kid's parents.

"I never believed in Santa," He says. An offering. Sadness for sadness, or something, like I see you.

Steve hums, and that horrible field of ice and snow between them melts, just like it always does. "Come over," He says, not as hollow as before. Blooming.

Billy puts his shoes on.

--

The Harringtons live in some demented alternate reality where Christmas in December is all for show. Their house has been decorated since the last time Billy was here in Saturday.

He knocks and stares down at Santa, the looming silver-screen image from his childhood, dressed in a floral button down, board shorts and flip flops. Somehow feels colder. When Steve opens the door, he points at it.

"My mom's theme this year is Blue Hawaii." Steve says.

Billy stumbles over the threshold, teeth chattering to shards in his skull. "That's not a Christmas Movie."

"Yeah, but it turns out, Santa can be anything. He's kinda like a chameleon."

"Santa isn't Elvis."

"He could be," Steve says.

Billy shrugs out of his jacket, handing it off, like always. Steve holds it close to his chest, watching with amusement as Billy takes in the foyer. Toes out of his snow-covered boots. "It's like a tiki bar made of pine trees instead of sweet grass."

Steve nods, still clutching the jacket.

His eyes are red.

Billy squints at him, padding closer. "Are you high?"

Steve giggles, bright like a fresh log in the fire.

Billy scrubs a hand across his face, trying to hide the way it makes him go up in Steve's flame. "You're such a dork."

"What? I thought we could--"

"I only have a few hours," Billy tells him gently, trying not to get lost in the sleepy, apple-red flush across Steve's perfect nose. "My dad'll--"

"Just tell him I'm left on my own for Christmas. Maybe he'll feel sorry for me and let you stay the night."

"How do you think I got him to agree to an 11:30 curfew?"

Steve blinks at him and then explodes into glowing, glaring joy. "Are you shitting me?"

"Nope, I'm all yours 'till 11:30."

Steve flushes again, clutching Billy's jacket closer to his chest. "But it's a school night--"

"Guess my old man took pitty on you. Such a lonely boy in his Elvis-themed mansion on the hill, it's kinda pathetic," Billy says, "In a cute way."

"It's not Elvis," Steve says, still grinning, "It's Blue Hawaii."

"Still cute," Billy shrugs, feeling hot all over. Feeling proud of himself. He nearly combusts when Steve moves into his space, eyes nearly going cross to focus on the bridge of Steve's nose.

Billy holds his breath.

He waits for Steve to say something, feeling that huge filed stretch out between them, but it's not snow-covered now.

It's thawing. It's burning up.

Steve wets his lips.

"Uh," Billy says intelligently, looking down when the sleeve of his jacket tugs at him, still viced in Steve's hold. "You can put that in the closet," Billy tells him, caught on the strech of skin over Steve's knuckles. "If you want."

"I don't," Steve tells him.

Billy looks up, eyes crossing again.

Steve winks. "You're warm," He says but Billy feels it, more than anything else.

--

The smell of marijuana and pine is overwhelming, searing through the air after the first shared joint.

Billy rolls his neck and asks if they can crack a window. Steve blinks at him, sealing the second joint with spit. "You trying to get caught, or something?"

"Caught?" Billy asks, trying to force his shoulders to relax. "But. I thought--"

"--The neighbors are nosy 'round these parts." Steve says. He tucks his rolling tray under the coffee table, and Billy watches with droopy red eyes the way his lips close around the butt of the thing.

Steve's lips are perfect.

If Billy was an artist he'd fill sketchbooks with watercolor renditions of that cupid's bow. His fingers would permanently stain with lapping waves of purple-pink, etching the warmth of breath into his nail beds so that the faucet would never run clear of this boy.

He could get lost in those lips. That hair--

Steve hands him the joint and Billy takes it, focusing on the cherry so he won't get lost in Steve's eyes, too, because he's looking. Always.

Billy tries not to drown in it and fails when Steve says, "Y'know. Your eyes are kinda like Blue Hawaii."

"Again with Elvis?" Billy rolls them, handing the joint back. "You're the one who stole his wig."

"My hair is not a wig, fuck you."

"Coulda fooled me."

Steve holds smoke in his lungs, exhaling it toward the popcorn ceiling as he says, "Your eyes are blue."

Billy snorts, laying with his back on the carpet.

"They're the bluest things I've ever seen," Steve says, ashing the joint. "And I've tried to find something bluer. Around town. I even went to the library to look for something in an atlas when Indiana disappointed me, like maybe the ocean is bluer and clearer in the Caribbean, or something, but no."

Billy's heart thumps, nailing his ribs to the floor underneath.

He counts the joints in the popcorn overhead. He feels Steve looking at him, feels himself burning from the inside.

"You're just the most detailed asshole who's ever lived," Steve says, softly.

Billy could sink into it. "Thanks."

Silence falls, again. It's comfortable. Billy stretches, a little bit, twisting until his spine cracks, until he feels like he could pass out from how relaxed he is.

Steve hands him the joint.

Billy shakes his head.

"Why not?" Steve asks.

"I'm laying down," Billy tells the ceiling, "I feel like if I smoke anymore my lungs will give out, or maybe I'll float through the ceiling and disappear."

Steve exhales more smoke. "And right before Christmas, too."

Billy sits crisscross on the carpet, watching Steve puff, inhale, puff, inhale. "You're really not stressed about being home by yourself for six days?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I like having the house to myself," Steve tells him, "Besides, I feel like if I have to spend any more time with my parents this year I'm going to sink right through the floor." Teasing. An echo of Billy's childhood fear of ascending into the ozone.

Billy pokes him with his foot, flushed.

Steve finishes the joint and slides closer. Their knees touch. "What kind of Christmases did you have when you were growing up?"

Billy shrugs. "I'm sill growing up."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, just. I dunno," Billy gets lost in Steve's eyes, a little. Classic beauty. "It was the Coca-Cola Santa kind?"

Steve laughs at him, and then his palms are warm on Billy's knee caps. "The kind with Bing Crosby and miniature towns on the dining room table?"

Billy's mom loved to collect those goddamn things. Neil smashed them all when she ran away and killed herself.

He nods, relishing the weight of Steve's fingertips.

Steve fiddles with the hole in Billy's jeans. "What kind of food did you have?"

"Pizza," Billy says.

Steve blinks at him, lost. "That's not very Coca-Cola of the Hargrove's."

"My mom didn't like to cook."

"Funny," Steve says, combing through the tussle of hair on Billy's kneecap, "Mine doesn't either."

Billy aches to knit their fingers together until they meld, forming the kind of sweater you dig out from the back of your closet year after year, echoing on the stiff frigid breeze until it's tattered and falling apart.

Steve looks at him, smiling. "Do you want some pie?"

--

Steve guts and skins the freezer until it's empty. A carcass picked clean.

Mrs. Harrington must have spent her entire bonus at Melvalds on Christmas dinner, enough to feed four Steve Harrington's and all the people who are desperately in love with him.

Billy tries not to think about them and watches from the counter face, his sock feet thumping gently against the cabinet as Steve pulls dish after dish from a cloud of white exhaust, plopping containers onto the island. "Green bean casserole," Steve says, "Pumpkin pie, pecan, apple, blueberry--"

"--You're supposed to eat all of this?"

"You're gonna help me."

"I don't like green bean casserole," Billy says, yelping when Steve feigns death and collapses into the counter. "Jesus Christ--"

"I'm midwestern, that's a cardinal sin to me."

"Dope makes you dramatic, pretty boy."

"You hate midwestern people."

"Yeah," Billy says, giggling.

"You hate me."

"Shut up," Billy slips off the counter and onto his feet, examining every frozen item while Steve repacks.

"Which pie sounds good?"

"I dunno," Billy says, eyeing the blueberry with suspicion, "Don't we have to wait for them to thaw before we throw them in the oven?"

"I don't think so," Steve says, "I've already tried the cherry and that baked fine."

"I've never had it before."

Steve blinks at him, shocked. "How have you never had cherry pie?"

"My dad doesn't like cherries," Billy admits.

"Just because your dad doesn't like cherries--"

"--Look, my mom wasn't on great terms with the oven, and nobody else is going to waste time cooking shit my dad won't eat," Billy snaps. Feeling red-hot all of a sudden. Angry in a way he hasn't been in a long time for being reminded that other people's dads are shitty in the normal way.

Not like Neil.

Steve either doesn't notice or chooses not to take it personally.

He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a half-eaten cherry pie, picking at its cling-wrap until Billy can see the cherries where the glitter between layers of perfectly brown crust. Bloody little eyes staring up at him like dead fish.

"You can have the rest."

"The rest?" Billy demands, "But what if I don't like it?"

"Not possible," Steve tells him. He opens the microwave and attempts to shove the pie tray in, yelping when Billy snatches it out of thin air. "What--"

"--Aluminum will catch fire in the microwave." Billy snaps. He tries to find it annoying, but Steve just blinks those big, soft eyes at him and the anger washes away. "Get me a plate, bambi boy," He says.

Steve watches Billy plate the pie, giggling as his nose wrinkles in disgust over its dripping red innards. "This is so gross," Billy says.

"You won't think so, once you try it."

Billy walks it to the microwave, carefully pinching the edges of the plate between his palms. "I can't think of a single other instance where that has been true."

He turns the dial. Forty seconds.

Steve's watching him, face illuminated in the golden hum of the microwave.

"What?" Billy demands.

"Nothing," Steve says, leaning against the counter top, "I just can't believe I'm gonna be here when your life is changed forever."

Billy snorts, stalking to the drawer where the Harringtons keep their silver. "Still dramatic, pretty boy."

"Why do you always say that?" Steve wonders.

Billy freezes in place. Two forks in hand. He peers across the island at Steve, heart thrumming loudly. "Why do I always say what?"

"Pretty boy," Steve clarifies.

It hangs between them. The microwave hums, the longest forty seconds of Billy's life. "I," He says intelligently, "It's just. True."

"What is?"

"You're. Pretty," Billy says. And it's like having teeth pulled.

The microwave beeps.

Steve turns away, yanking the pie from its incubation, "Shit," He says, wiggling his fingers. "Plate's hot as hell."

Billy stands there watching him. Breathing. Dying.

Steve looks at him. "Well, do you wanna try it?" Billy nods. Doesn't move. Steve laughs at him. "Come here."

Billy goes easily, like a lap dog being called to perch. He and his forks stare down at the pie with caution, stomach churning at the congealed mess before him.

Steve grabs one of the forks from Billy and cuts the point off, blowing on it until its warm enough to eat. Steve pops it into his mouth, brown eyes falling closed. "Mmmm," He says, like someone would with a spooked and disgusted baby, "It's good."

Billy shakes his head.

"You're so dramatic," Steve says, cutting another huge chunk for Billy. He holds it in the air between them, eyebrows raised. "Trust me."

Billy stares at it. "Why's mine so big?"

"I want you to get the full range of flavor."

"But--"

Steve shoves the fork into Billy's mouth, swiftly depositing the little cherry eyeballs onto Billy's tongue. He coughs and sputters, lips curling around the fork as Steve yanks it away. "Chew," Steve says.

Billy does.

Like it's the first time he's ever done it, clumsy and a little rushed and very, very distracted by the way Steve's watching him.

"Swallow," Steve says softly, barely there.

Billy does. There's something on his face. On his lips.

"What do you think?" Steve asks, staring at them.

Billy resists the urge to lick it away, "Sucked," He says, expecting Steve to laugh, but.

Something rests between them, not growing or stretching or changing shape, but it's there. It suffocates.

Steve looks at him, somehow closer than he was before. "Sorry, pretty boy," He says.

Billy's heart stops. "Why would you say that?"

"It's true. You're pretty," Steve says, watching the red on Billy's lips burn brighter. "You've got a little something on your face." Billy lifts a hand, mouth falling open when Steve grabs his wrist. "Can I," Steve says, soft as summer rain, "Can I kiss you, Billy?"

Billy doesn't move as Steve licks into his mouth, Cherry washing away under the rough, sweet drag of intention.

--

THIS IS PART ONE!!!! OF A TWO-PARTER!

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I get around to part two <3

[mikimakiboo]

Muffins

Inspired by @ancientschampionau 's Real Age AU, in which Nightmare loses his corruption and goes back to his six year old form and the gang takes care of him as they all live in a farm (there's more things happening but I ain't gonna spoil lol)

I have already done fanarts, headcanons and comments, all that was left was a fanfiction ! (I think it's the first time I have been so invested in a story) Hope you'll like it and hope I got their personalities right :')

I've been everywhere in your asks and comments lmao I hope I'm not being annoying :')

English still isn't my first language so please excuse the grammatical errors ♡

The moon was high in the sky, it was very late, or very early depending on the point of view, everyone was sleeping, the four adults piled up on each other. Nightmare looked at them before slowly getting out of bed, the small skeleton had a mission and he needed everyone to be asleep. He carefully walked to their pillow nest to grab his giant bat plushie, Batsie he called her, and walked to the bed again, sitting Batsie near the edge in front of the sleeping pile.

- You watch them for me.

He commanded the bat. If anyone saw him talking to the plush he would never hear the end of it. Batsie fell over. Nightmare sat her straight again and put pillows on each side to prevent another fall. Once the bat was secured and after making sure no one woke up the small skeleton left the room, slowly closing the door behind him. He needed to be fast, Horror and Cross usually woke up quite early, he needed to be done by that time.

He could feel the cold floor through his socks, it was an old house, they hadn't install everything yet and for now their only source of heat was the fire place, so Nightmare had to wear socks in and out of bed so he wouldn't get cold.

He went to the kitchen, grabbed a chair and dragged it next to the counter before climbing on it and standing up slowly, he didn't want to fall after all. He grabbed the big cooking book, a gift from Crop as he never used it, and opened it to look through the pages until he found the recipe he was looking for: muffins. He wasn't allowed to help around in the house or with the farm work, everytime he tried they would grab him and put him back in the nest, but he couldn't just stay there and do nothing ! They all worked so hard to protect him, to take care of him and to renovate this house, he felt bad about not doing anything for them in return, so he decided that he had enough, he will bake them muffins and they will enjoy them because he will make them with love ! And chocolate. Cross loves chocolate, so if anyone says anything he could turn to Cross, he will surely stand on his side.

He rolled up his sleeves and gathered everything he needed to bake: two bowls, a whisk, a spoon, muffin molds, flour, sugar, cocoa powder and chocolate chips, baking soda, yogurt, milk, vegetable oil, an egg, and vanilla ! He stopped for a moment to make sure there wasn't any noise coming from the bedroom but all he could hear was silence. All the ingredients were there, good, because climbing up and down the chair was starting to hurt his back, and even if it hurt less thanks to the care Dust was putting into cleaning his wounds he still needed to be careful.

He read the instructions out loud to himself.

- First, mix the dry ingredients in a bowl...

Carefully, he measured his ingredients and put them in his first bowl: flour, sugar, baking soda, chocolate chips and cocoa powder. He looked up.

- Oh, I forgot to heat the oven !

He had seen Horror using it before, so he knew which buttons to turn. The oven biped, making Nightmare flinch and turn to the bedroom, but no one came out. He sighed in relief, he wanted this to be a surprise, if they woke up now and saw him then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore ! Also they might forbid him to finish baking.

He went back to his recipe, now mixing the wet ingredients in the second bowl: the yogurt, the milk, the egg with some parts of the shell that he had to pick out, the oil and the vanilla extract, before adding it to his first bowl and mixing again. He had to take a few breaks, the mix has started to thicken and it was hard stirring it with his little arms. Horror would have done that effortlessly, but the big guy was sleeping and Nightmare didn't want to wake him up for that, he could do it himself ! He was a big boy ! He has lived for five hundred years ! His body and mind got stuck at six though, but still ! He was perfectly capable of baking muffins for his parents gang.

The mixture finally got smooth after ten minutes of stirring to get rid of the lumps, he could now pour it into the molds with the spoon as to not make a mess. He filled each mold equally, opened the oven's door slowly, put on the thick oven mitts and carefully put his molds inside the oven, closing the door again.

- Twenty minutes.

He said, looking at the time on the oven's clock. He had a timer, but he didn't set it because the noise would wake up the others, and he obviously didn't want that to happen.

- Have to clean now.

Everything went well ! The muffins were in the oven and no one woke up ! Now all he had to do was put the dishes in the sink and the ingredients back in the cabinet, easy ! He grabbed everything and put it back in place, feeling proud of himself and very excited to show his surprise to everyone. He grabbed the bag of flour, the last thing on the counter, and got down of the chair. He tripped.

Danger. Something happened. Dust's soul clenched in his chest, waking him up in a jump, his breath fast and eyelights frantically looking around. Horror was under the others, Cross had his head on his chest, Killer was taking all the space as usual, Batsie was sitting at the end of the bed, Nightmare wasn't there. Nightmare wasn't there. Dust looked again, Horror, Cross, Killer, Batsie, no Nightmare. Panic started to take over, where was Nightmare ?!

He jumped out of the bed, looking everywhere in the room, maybe Nightmare was reading in a corner ? But there was no baby in sight. He stormed out of the room, quickly spotted light in the kitchen, and immediately teleported there. What was he doing this early in the kitchen ? Horror wasn't even awake yet !

A mess. Nightmare had made a mess. There was flour everywhere, from the floor to the cabinets and even himself. He sat on his knees, looking at the mess he made. Of course he made a mess. He always made messes. Back in Dreamtale he always made messes, that's why everyone hated him, because he couldn't do anything right, and now he had made a mess again in the kitchen when he was supposed to make his family a gift. He felt... terrible, his soul hurt, his arms hurt and his cheeks burned. They were going to be mad at him, so mad, he knew he didn't have to right to be alone near the kitchenware, it was too dangerous, he could hurt himself, and not only he did just that, but he also made a mess with the flour.

He heard a teleportation noise behind him. Oh. Oh no. He didn't want that, he didn't want to wake them up, it was supposed to be a surprise ! It was supposed to be perfect ! Why did he have to trip and fall ?! Why did he have to be such a good-for-nothing ?!

- Nightmare ! Are you okay ?! What happened, are you hurt ?!

Dust rushed to his side, kneeling in front of him, not caring that he just stepped in the flour, his baby was on the floor, not responding, he couldn't care less about what he stepped in. He quickly but gently made him look up, a hand on Nightmare's chin, looking for scratches, and was deeply relieved to find none.

- What were you doing here ?

He asked, but Nightmare just looked at him, his eyelights and little lips trembling, he sniffed. Dust quickly pulled him against his chest, sitting correctly to put his baby on his lap as he began to sob, grabbing his shirt with his tiny fists.

- It's okay, I'm not mad, I promise.. I'm not gonna yell at you.. I'm just worried..

He gently pat his skull, avoiding his back as he didn't know yet if Nightmare hurt himself there. The small skeleton pressed his face against his chest, he didn't want that to happen... his surprise was ruined now...

Dust looked around them, letting Nightmare calm down at his own pace, he noticed the bag of flour on the ground and the oven turned on with something inside of it. If Nightmare was hungry, why didn't he just grab a snack ? Why didn't he call him or the one of the others ?

- I'm sorry...

Nightmare sniffled. Dust looked down at him.

- What happened.. ?

He asked again, calmly, still peting his skull.

- I wanted t-to make muffins... for-for when you wake up...

He choked on his tears. Dust hated hearing him cry, he hated it so much, he wasn't supposed to cry, he was supposed to be happy, not hurt.

- It-it was supposed t-to be a surprise...

- You should have called us...

- No.. ! I-I wanted to make it myself.. ! You always do everything an-and I never do anything...

He protested. Of course it was the reason. Dust knew Nightmare felt like he needed to do something in return, to thank them, no matter how much they told him he didn't have to he kept insisting. The adult sighed.

- Night.. it's very sweet of you, really, but we are not here because we expect something from you, we are here because we love you, because we care about you, and love isn't something you need to be thankful for..

Nightmare sniffed, wiping off his tears has he listened to Dust. All his life he had been a burden, he just couldn't imagine that a whole group of people got together and collectively decided to unconditionally love him... it was just... too good to be true... they were too good to be true...

- If you wanted muffins we could have baked them together, it would have still been a surprise for the others...

Nightmare simply nodded, looking down. He felt Dust's lips against his head. A kiss.

- Did you hurt yourself.. ?

He nodded again.

- My arms and back hurt...

- Okay, stay here then, I'm going to clean up..

Dust got up with Nightmare to sit him back on the chair, giving him one last pat before grabbing the bag to put it back on the counter, he then took a broom and began cleaning the floor. Nightmare still felt bad, but not quite as bad as a few minutes ago, Dust wasn't mad, he didn't yell, and the others were apparently still sleeping.

Twenty minutes passed.

- I'll take them out.

Dust said before Nightmare even had time to lift his arms. He took the muffins out of the oven and put them on the counter to cool off. It smelled so good, and they looked good too ! Nightmare smiled as he looked at his creation, he was happy.

Now all he had to do was wait for the others to join them and then they could all enjoy some warm muffins made with all the love he had in his little body.

Some things didn't go as planned, but... it was still perfect to him, everything was perfect... and the muffins were delicious !

- the end -

[royallyprincesslilly]

Cautionary Tale on Carbon Monoxide

So, for the last 2 weeks or so my smoke alarm/carbon monoxide alarm has been beeping sporadically. I paid it no mind because there was no smoke, nothing was burning and I did not think it could be anything else. I assumed the alarm or batteries were going bad because they had been here forever ago.

So, we changed the batteries and bought a new alarm, and installed them through the house a week ago. The beeping stopped. However, a few days ago while I was cooking the beeping came back. Again, no smoke in the home and nothing was burning. We are searching trying to figure out why it keeps going off.

I constantly have my essential oil diffuser plugged in and running so some searches came back saying certain essential oils might set off the alarm if strong enough and my 16-year-old has been fear rubbing herself with Citronella essential oils(repellent for mosquitoes) because whenever the door opened these new breed mosquitos fly in and she is terrified if her face and body looking like a swollen pepperoni pizza🙄😂. (The concerns of a 16-year-old who was looking out for her upcoming first day of school face card status lmao)

Finally, after some YT videos and Google searches, we began to suspect it was beeping because of carbon monoxide. So we hurry and get out of the house, food still on the stove half cooked, and wait for the gas/electric company to come to investigate and fix the problem.

When the tech comes he walks inside the house and instantly the machine he carried to check the PPM set off a reading of 41. This level is highly dangerous and prolonged exposure can result in health risks and possibly death.😳

He continued to walk through the house and found pockets in the house where the PPM was 38-41(still dangerous). He goes into the kitchen and instantly says, I see your problem. He goes to the stove and points to my favorite, can't live without have used almost every time I cook 11" Copper Chef casserole pot and says this is the culprit.

Apparently, the size of the pot covers my entire burner so there is no ventilation happening under the pot which is bad. He then points to another favorite pot on the back burner and says this one is also bad because of the size of the pot. He turned on the fire under the Copper Chef pot and instantly his machine went up to 144 PPM😳.

I was appalled. He asked about how we all were feeling and asked who the cook in the house was and of course it was me✋🏽. I felt fine. I usually always have headaches and feel tired, he said I could be suffering from long-term carbon monoxide exposure and should go to the hospital to be sure.

To make this longer story just plain ol' long, I say all of this to caution you guys on pot sizes for your gas stove burners and to say it could be the things/ways you least expect.

Tips from the gas/electric company tech

-Make sure your pot is not bigger/wider than your burner flames.

-Turn on your overhead vent or open your kitchen windows when cooking for either or both of these: 1) If your pots are bigger than the burner flames or 2) To take an extra level of safety.

-If you are using bigger pots try to open closet doors throughout your home because the carbon monoxide can creep into the closed closet and remain there for hours.

-In your gas using ovens do not have any liners or protectors(the ones you put down to prevent spills or drips as you bake) on the bottom of the oven if they come anywhere near the two ventilation slits in the oven(where the flames/heat rises).

-If you have done all of the above and constantly feel lightheaded, dizzy, persistent headaches, fatigue, sleepiness, be safe and just get it checked out in the ER or Urgent Care.

Be safe out there y'all. Carbon Monoxide is known as a silent killer.

[large-lit]

[Getting a little more explicit this time around. Features depictions of oral stuff, a bit of fat-based gender play, stuffing, force feeding, some dirty talk/name-calling, size difference, and near-immobility. Lots of near-immobility.]

I wheezed as I threw my arms to one side, attempting in vain to clear the two massive sandbags that sat on my chest. All I succeeded in doing was making them wobble and plop against each other as the exercise ball-sized orb below growled impatiently. 'I know, I know, I know...!' I thought to myself, my breaths coming ragged and deep.

Much to my chagrin, I had woken up starving, and if I hadn't already been on the verge of tears, the thought of my final frozen pizza sitting lonely in my freezer would've done the trick. I'll admit, 5 AM wasn't my ideal time to have a pizza, but I was hardly going to discriminate. I needed that space for my grocery delivery later anyway, after all.

Steeling myself, I prepared to try again. If I could just manage one good mighty swing, I could probably get my elbow underneath myself and finish propping myself up that way... Given the amount I was attempting to haul, that was a pretty big 'probably' but then again, most things in my life were excessively large at this point.

I could feel another hunger pang brewing, so I took a few more steadying breaths, and... "Hnnnngh... Gah!" I'd done it! By some miracle, I had halfway made it onto my side, and a few shimmies later, I was all the way there. All that was left was to sit up, catch my breath again, stand up, probably catch my breath yet again, and then start lumbering into the kitchen to start getting some food ready.

My belly sloped off of me in this position, looking less like the imposing mountain it felt like at times, and more like a ski resort's slope. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I could almost see the tiny ski lift against my gut. Amidst the panting, I breathed out a laugh.

Summoning my strength into the arm that was now half-beneath me, I continued my gauntlet. If I wanted to satiate the hunger still gnawing at my insides, I'd need to get fully upright, and there were still a few steps remaining. A sudden growl erupting from my middle sent waves of weakness through me nearly strong enough to send me toppling onto my back, but my desperation held firm, and one huge push later, I was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, my legs spread wide to accommodate the hanging swell of my gut between them.

I should have gotten up right then and there, but typical me, I got greedy. 'Even if I got up and started the oven right now,' I thought, 'it'd still be nearly half an hour before I eat.' The thought again brought me to the verge of tears.

But wait... I remembered the apparatus my boyfriend had installed during his visit last month. In a box on the wall next to the bed, a tube like a fire hose sat wound up, clicking out to keep it from snapping back into the wall as I pulled it out by the nozzle. Once it had a decent amount of slack to it, I stuck the nozzle in my mouth and slammed my meaty fist against the big red button next to its home.

Immediately, my mouth and throat were filled with a thick, cold, creamy substance, and I swallowed rapturously as it pumped into my stomach. The rich, calorie-dense slurry my boyfriend had concocted was thick and largely flavorless, but it was filling, and in my state, that was all I cared about. With one hand, I clung tightly to my lifeline, a few tears actually escaping my closed eyes this time as my other hand fell to my belly, rubbing in slow, soothing circles as my ridiculous hunger began to abate ever so slightly.

I sat there like that for a little while. I don't remember how long it actually took me to start feeling full, but I didn't get to finish. Not on my own terms, at least. My eyes suddenly jerked open as I found the nozzle of the hose suddenly jammed down my throat, circumventing my need to swallow. I might've choked if I weren't so experienced with this, but I managed to hear the click of the nozzle's straps behind my head past my grunt of surprise. Before I could even process what happened, I felt fingers tangle themselves in my long hair and yank me back down onto the bed, my massive body wobbling and jiggling with the impact; my belly's motion was a bit more subdued, given how much cream and oil was already inside it.

As I came to rest, my hands steadying my jostling belly, I looked up to meet the teasingly wrathful gaze of my feeder boyfriend. I hadn't even heard the twink enter my apartment, much less my bedroom, and I would've congratulated his stealth if I had been able to speak. "My, my, getting gluttonous already this morning, babe? Couldn't even wait to get some real food in you before you just started sucking the calories down?" he taunted, leaning around me and running a thin finger around the edge of my saucer-sized nipple. "You still had one more pizza in the freezer, it wouldn't have taken /that/ long to prepare!"

He giggled as he effortlessly repositioned himself to lay parallel to me, his slender, toned legs hanging over the edge of the bed next to my enormous, ham-like thighs. "Guess I can't blame you... You're just a big fat pig, after all; a total slave to this huge tank..." He wrapped his arm around my belly and began rubbing those same, soothing circles into it as his tongue found my nipple and started playing with it. What little self-control I had at this point was long since spent, and I moaned around the feeding tube like a whore at the pleasure.

He was completely correct, after all. No matter how much I liked to act like I was in control of myself when I went out, on those increasingly rare occasions I managed to squeeze myself into clothes and look at least somewhat decent, the moment I got back behind closed doors, I was desperate to feel full again. Sometimes, more and more often nowadays in fact, I wouldn't even wait until I got home.

For instance, I'd often have to withstand the shame of ordering four large milkshakes at the fast food joint on the way home, and watch the cashier's expression change as I pulled up, and they realized that I did not have three friends with me. No, all of them would clearly be going into me, and nobody else. Sometimes they were amused by my shamelessness. Others were appalled by the abject gluttony. I think one of them might have actually had an awakening of some sort as I came to a stop at the drive-thru window, my massive, empty belly shaking beneath my shirt from the inertia, his face going red as his mouth quirked up at the side and he whispered, "Oh, /wow/..." before snapping back to attempting professionalism.

Speaking of snapping back, I was brought back to my current predicament by a sharp smack to my taut and tightening gut, making me squeal before I could stop myself. I hadn't realized just how full I was starting to get, and I looked up at my feeder with worried, tearful eyes.

Sadistic pleasure looked back at me, and he dug his thumb into my deep, wide navel as his fingers wrapped around my thick, doughy overhang. "Getting full, piggy?" he asked, voice dripping with faux concern. I could only nod and whimper in response, my fat fingers gently massaging at the upper half of my gut as he began gently wobbling the lower half. "Good. Why don't you go ahead and finish this tank off, and I'll go get that pizza going for you, hm?" The thought of actually eating at this point was hellish, and I so desperately wanted to say no, to tear the hose out and preserve what was left of my clearly dwindling mobility... But I just couldn't.

Beyond the obvious immediate facts of how removing the hose now would create a mess that I simply was no longer equipped to clean up myself (and how I was also nowhere near mobile enough to turn it off first from my current position), I just... simply did not want to stop. I knew I should have, I knew that this was probably my last chance to maintain some semblance of independence before I swelled yet closer to my impending immobility, but the thought aroused me like nothing else, and I sucked on the tube even harder as I nodded.

"Good pig," he smirked, giving my overhang one last squeeze before he departed, hopping to his feet and practically dancing out of the bedroom.

As my eyes watched him leave, I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. Before, he had always praised my gluttony with 'good boy', but as I took a close look at myself, my overstuffed belly towering over the rest of me, I could easily recognize the reason for the change in term. My manhood was completely buried by the intersection of belly and thighs, my body hair was incredibly stretched out by the copious amounts of blubber, and my tits were about as big as my head, if not bigger. If it weren't for what little facial hair remained seeking in vain to disguise the thick ring of fat around my neck, my gender would've been a lot more in question.

It was hard to say whether I was more masculine or feminine at this point, I was more just, 'fat'. Despite being assigned male, it was like my gender was being stripped away with my mobility. The brief notion that my boyfriend might've been spiking my food with growth hormones occurred to me, and though I quickly laughed it off, I couldn't entirely discount the possibility...

Before I could give it too much thought, though, the feeding tube began making a noise I had heard only a handful of times before, an empty clunking sound as it attempted to pump that which was not present. Two feelings filled me in its absence. Pride, firstly, that I had managed to consume the entire tank he had prepared for me, followed by worry that it was now just feeding air directly down my throat with no immediate way to alleviate the unavoidable discomfort I was now cognizant of.

I grunted and groaned, trying to twist and reach my porky hands behind my head to undo the straps, but with how full I was, the movement was putting too much strain on my shoulders and upper belly to make it possible. Trying not to panic, I slapped my hands against whatever I could reach. The mattress, the blankets, the pillows, nothing hard enough to get his attention... Ah, the bedframe! The sound was still somewhat muted, given how much fat surrounded my knuckle, but the metal frame made a satisfying clang as I knocked at it.

Blessedly, he seemed to have heard it, as I heard his voice from the doorway not long after. "Holy shit, fatty, you really did it? The pizza's not even out yet, you must've been /really/ hungry...!" His voice was filled with horny delight as he switched off the pump and knelt between my legs, keeping my mouth occupied by the nozzle as he busied his with my thighs and overhang.

My eyes rolled back in my head, and I moaned as he pressed his lips to my overstuffed belly again and again, his thin fingers grabbing heaping handfuls of my fat. His teeth grazed the underside of my belly, and I squealed around the mouthpiece, my fat thighs attempting to come together around him, only to be stopped by the resistance my belly provided.

Suddenly, he pressed his whole face into my doughy underbelly and grabbed my wrists, pulling my hands against my belly. "Hold this up," he ordered, his voice low and husky with desire as he pushed my gut up towards my head and away from my crotch. I did as instructed, and he began squeezing, kissing, and playing with the last obstacle to my manhood: my fat pad. It had really ballooned in size once I hit 400 pounds, I remember that much, but I hadn't kept close tabs on my weight for a while since then. Rather, I hadn't been able to keep tabs on it. He did it for me, keeping notes on his phone about it. Deep within that fat pad, I was about ready to burst, and when he pushed it back to expose my buried head to the cool air of the bedroom, I had to bite down on the nozzle to keep control of myself. "Alright, drop it," he commanded, and I did, the massive orb propped up by his head as he started in on his prize within.

His breath, hot and heavy against it, was followed by his tongue, plunging into the folds surrounding it to get as close to the base as he could. His hands roamed from inner thighs, to fat pad, to love handles, to navel, squeezing and groping me all over. "Come on, fatty," he husked into me as he pulled away momentarily for air. "Keep growing, keep getting fatter for me, baby. God, you're so fucking huge, won't even fit through your doors soon, already have to get your clothes custom, gonna fatten you out of this bed, outta this whole damn building, keep growing, kee-mmf!"

My climactic scream echoed up the length of the feeding tube as I exploded down his throat, his lips plunging to my base as he swallowed every drop. It felt like it lasted an eternity, my body twitching and jiggling as it finally came to rest and I began catching my breath for the umpteenth time that morning.

Finally, I saw him over the horizon of my gut, licking his lips and brushing his hair out of his face. "Good for you, hog?" he asked with his usual smirk, his voice teasing and loving again. I nodded, and grunted around the feeding tube. "Ah, right." As he reached around my head to undo the straps, we heard the oven timer go off, and he looked down into my eyes as the nozzle was removed. "You're still hungry, right?"

A long, thunderous belch erupted past my lips, and my fat hands slapped the sides of my gut as I replied, "I'm starved."

[point-pine]

Chapter Two

“Good afternoon, everyone, Angela Borea here once again for radio Point Pine. I’m hoping everyone has been enjoying the rain more than I, as I happened to find the road back to town too muddy to use this morning. Regardless, the show must go on.”

Angela’s voice filled the store, running through a speaker I’d installed two years prior. She presented that day’s community radio segment with the kind of enthusiasm that most townsfolk only heard when she worked. That day’s five o’clock segment had been several minutes later than usual as Angela had decided to play the full fifteen minutes of Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture prior to her broadcast (a decision made more strange by the hour of Queen that had preceded it). The broadcast would usually align with my five o’clock snack breaks, so I took her voice as a cue to grab something to eat.

A portion of the storage room was left cleared, save for a table, an ice cream freezer that leaked near constantly, and a microwave. On my first shift, this area had been generously described as a break room complete with a refrigerator and an oven. On my second shift the bag I left on the table turned up empty by the time I left.

While I attempted to retrieve my sandwich from the depths of the makeshift refrigerator, the door at the back of the storeroom was heaved open.

“You would not believe the state of that back road. I’m surprised so many branches can fall in such little time.” Angela’s tall frame filled the doorway, a few empty shopping bags were slung over her shoulder. She beamed, seeming proud of herself. Her skin, beginning to take a wintry pale tone, contrasted with her black hair, the longest strands just scraped her shoulders, while errant threads blew about in the draft.

“The van made it here without too much damage, I should hope?” I replied, leaning to look out the door, Angela’s battered white van was parked at one end of the back road outside, the light rain creating streaks in the dirt that clung to the vehicle.

“Eh, probably. There was only an average amount of strange noises while I made it over here.” Angela pushed the door closed with both hands and locked it with a flick of her fingers. She tossed her keys into the air and almost caught them.

Angela walked out of the storage room, grabbing a small bag of chips from a box as she went. Before joining her in the storefront, I checked the backdoor was locked properly and took a bite of my limp sandwich.

“When the rain lets up, we’re in for crystal clear skies” Angela’s radio segment continued to fill the store, she smiled at me when I came out of the backroom and returned the thumbs-up I gave her. “And – I’m only guessing here – there’ll be a chill in the air tonight, at least ‘till tomorrow morning.”

“So, you managed to get pre-recorded segments working?” I asked, turning the speaker’s volume down a few notches.

“Yes!” she turned and drew her arm out in a vague, excitable gesture “Well, no! System’s probably too old, I was up for… A while last night, eventually I figured out a temporary solution that would work just fine.”

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?”

“Not at all!” Angela dropped a bottle of juice into a bag and passed it to me before glancing at the clock behind the counter “Although I’ve only got maybe thirty minutes before we have to leave so I don’t broadcast dead air for too long.” She crouched down to collect a 10-litre jug of water.

I considered the ramifications of closing early for a moment, then pointed my thumb behind me with a quick “Now?”. Before long I was standing behind the store, shopping bag in hand, locking, unlocking, and relocking the door to ensure that it was properly locked. After turning the key for the fifth time, I flinched into the door as Angela tapped me on the shoulder. She whispered an apology and beckoned me around to the side of the store.

“Do you know what he’s doing out here?” Peering around the building, Angela leaned her head and pointed a thumb in the direction of a figure. Wearily pacing around on the opposite side of the road, umbrella in hand, was Trevor.

“He’s trying to stay awake.” The first thought that crossed my mind passed through my mouth subconsciously. I shut my mouth again.

“Nat…” Angela looked at me out of the corner of her eye at first, then turned her head. Her expression was calculating, a slight gap in her lips opened while her eyes searched my face.

“Anyway. I don’t know, he’s just someone.” I answered her question, it had been twenty-seven seconds since she had asked it.

Across the road, Trevor stopped pacing and held out his thumb before a car sped past him. That’s when he noticed us, he waved.

“Don’t hitchhike around here, trust me.” I called out to him. “Town is a fifteen- or twenty-minute walk north.” I pointed left and he shouted a quick thanks across the road before beginning the walk into town.

“Onwards, Angela?” I asked, turning toward her.

“Onwards!” A smile returned to her face as she clapped her hands together once with a flourish.

⁂ Time passed ⁂

A scant few leaves littered the road, twigs and weak branches snapped under the wheels of Angela’s van. The thick foliage above was just beginning to change colour, a few thick rivulets of water dropped off it onto the windows, while some branches streaked the drops as they glided across the windows. I tugged on my jacket’s zipper while Angela tapped out a staggered rhythm across the steering wheel. My shirt was sticking to me.

“Or, here’s one, have you been to the…” Angela paused, seeming to struggle to find which word to use next “Well, I think he’s calling it a café at the moment. Have you been to Terry’s Café recently?”

“Oh god, what’s he done this time?” I leant my head against my hand.

“Well, he calls me up, it’s probably eleven at night by that point, he sounds thrilled, overjoyed. He says” she dropped her pitch “Miss B, I’ve been experimentin’, come on down for a free meal – so long as you give us a little word on your show.” With her left hand, she pointed in my general direction “Then he hangs up!” She punctuates her last word with a weak snap of her fingers.

“Of course, you went down to the café?”

“You bet and, let me tell you, this experiment he seemed so excited about? It was a burger. An ordinary burger with a side of – probably frozen – chips.”

“Was it… palatable, at the very least?”

Angela paused for a moment; a sly smile appeared at the corner of her lips “It was better than yours.”

“Hey, fuck you! You showed up absurdly late of course they were going to be cold!” I repressed a laugh.

“And you, Nathaniel, told me the wrong time to arrive.”

“I still hold that I did nothing of the sort.” I crossed my arms and turned towards the window. Angela cackled; I chuckled.

 The clearing came into view, illuminated by the fading grey of the early evening sky. Just off centre was the radio tower. It had stood so for eighty years and certainly would stand eighty more. The strong, sturdy limbs that held the building above the tree line were dark heavy chunks of wood etched with faded carvings near the ground. A rickety stairway that had been replaced twice within my lifetime wound around the supports. At the top of the tower was a collection of straight metal bars at right angles to each other reaching up into the sky. The single room atop the supports was constructed from 4 even rectangular walls, split by windows in the centre across the whole of each. Encircling the room was a balcony just wider than a metre.

The van came to a stop as a metallic clatter sounded from somewhere in the vehicle. Stepping outside, the air was cold, the rain light, and the wind weak. Angela moved up the stairs, water jugs in hand, while I carried bags, trudging up behind her. As I climbed, without the trees to restrain it, the wind grew in strength. Angela held the door for me while I hurried inside.

From inside, I took in the sights. A spare few drops of rain trailed down the windows, cutting and obscuring the view outside. Although you couldn’t see it from there, Point Pine was to the east, to the west the mountains stood as they always had. Due west was a mountain that had always stood out to me amongst the rest; I was sure there was a road that wound around it, somewhere out there.

On the western edge of the clearing was a gap in the tree line. Marked on either side by the rotted, moss enveloped remains of a fence was a meandering path. At the end dwelt a lake. Its surface was often still, stable, like the massive face of a mirror. The lake was identifiable from the tower, small shards visible through the trees, jagged edges changing shape with the dancing leaves.

“Nat.” Angela stepped in front of me. “The shopping?” Both her voice and the weight of the bags, things I was only vaguely aware of since I stepped in, returned to the forefront of my mind. I gave her a quick nod.

The space wasn’t large, made smaller by the various objects strewn about that I had to step over to reach the fridge. Angela called it cosy, although I could never tell if she was being facetious or lying. On a table in the corner opposing the door were various pieces of radio equipment that Angela was fiddling with, she spoke an apology for the last forty minutes of dead air into the microphone and rummaged through a small box of CDs.

To the left of the radio equipment was another table, in a pile were more CDs, several DVDs, and three books – two of which I had lent her; there was a bookmark placed about half-way through one. The fridge was further to the left, I flinched away from the cold when I opened the door. While I stocked the fridge, Angela organised a few notes.

The next wall along had the rest of the makings of a basic kitchen against it, through those windows you could see the lake, still, and the mountains.

Angela recited her sign off for the day, wearily drew her hand down her face and strolled toward her bed, which lay between a wall and a bedside table. She placed her phone on the bedside table, next to a half-melted candle and a burnt-out lightbulb. She sprawled out across the bed, sitting up, leaning her head against the window behind her. Angela’s blankets were bundled up messily to one side of the bed.

While Angela lingered in the moment, I picked up one of the books on the table; I had lent it to her at some point, a bookmark was placed about halfway through. Beneath a battered paperback with a dog-eared page near the end was another novel I had lent her, either yet to be started or already read. Also on the table was a small pile of electrical components I couldn’t identify alongside three collapsed stacks of CDs.

I picked up the novel without a bookmark and sat down. It was an old favourite of mine, the simple bronze ink linework design across the binding glinted from the ceiling light. I began to read.

⁂ Time passed ⁂

“Oh, I am so sorry, I think I nodded off there, we’ve barely had time to chat!” Angela sprang off the bed, almost toppling over in the process. “I haven’t even prepared your bed!”

“Hey, it’s fine. You’re tired, we can talk tomorrow. I’ll get my sleeping arrangements sorted, it’s all in storage yeah?” I pointed to the hatch in the centre of the floor.

“Yes, yes, it is. Are you sure though? I could- “

“It’s fine, just go to sleep.” I gave Angela a thumbs up.

Before I could say goodnight, Angela fell back into bed. I folded the blankets over her and looked outside. It seemed the wind had stilled.

Quietly, I placed the book down on the table and made my way outside. There, the night air was still, below me a light breeze blew through the trees, creating faint white noise. The rain had stopped by then, leaving a comfortable cold in its wake. The scent of petrichor hung in the air, barely detectable. I breathed lightly.

I lit a cigarette and looked to the sky. It was a clear night; it was more often clear at the tower than in town. The stars and moon were bright as day, I traced my eyes across the sky, identifying constellations, first at the centre of the Southern cross, then shifting outward.

Tiny, bright embers joined the stars in the sky. On some unknown, undetectable wind, the embers flitted about, they danced back and forth making their way to somewhere, slowly, in the brief moments before they burnt out.

Ahead of me, splintered through the trees, the moon glinted off the lake, larger and closer than the shape turning in the sky. The world continued to spin.

I flitted away the last of the dying embers into the still air and watched them dance among the stars once more when a slight movement made itself known. On the rail furthest from me, it hopped. The shape, with greater effort than appeared, closed a small distance between us. It was a quail, dark brown with cream stripes running down its body, it tilted its head inquisitively. I smiled at it. The fragile creature hopped once more; it was quiet. We watched each other for a moment.

Every now and then, time can seem to stand still out there.

I turned to go back inside, and the bird flew away.

Notes

Ringing in the new year with the next chapter! This one took perhaps too long. The first chapter was written in the span of a few days, while this one took the better part of eight months. I was never quite happy with a lot of what I had down and I am also ridiculously lazy. Regardless, the chapter is done now! I'm still not quite happy with it, and there's a bit of a road ahead for what comes next, but we're here. I hope you've liked meeting Angela, she was tonnes of fun to write for. Thanks for reading!

- P

[xkittypunkerx]

SCREAM - A Beautiful Lie

Chapter Summary and Gang Members: Punk and his gang realize that AJ Lee has returned and begin to make their plans.

Gang Members

2009 Heel CM Punk

SOA Season 1 Jax Teller

James Keenan aka Corey Graves

The Shield Seth Rollins

Jimmy Jacobs

Chapter two

-April Mendez-

Within the next week or so, any stranger would think that we've been living here for years. We installed an amazing improved stereo system, flat screen TV, and a few other needed appliances and such. I guess you could say that our parents really love us.

I groggily opened my eyes to the smell of bacon and eggs flowing through the house. Kofi must be over here showing off his secret culinary skills. I stretched as I got out of bed, and made my way down to the kitchen. "Well look who finally decided to get up," Kaitlyn laughed as she swallowed a forkful of hash browns.

I rolled my eyes, "C'mon, I didn't sleep in that late!"

I noticed that both Kaitlyn and Kofi were staring at the oven clock and suppressing laughter, so I followed their stare and saw that I had slept in until 10 AM! I was supposed to be at an illustration intern meeting in exactly 30 minutes...

"Shit!" I cursed as I ran down the hall to my room and quickly changed into a black and grey pinstriped business suit, straightened my hair, and applied just a slight amount of makeup, enough to look like myself but not so "scary."

I rushed to the kitchen again, noting I only had 10 minutes left. Good thing that this event was on campus, otherwise I'd be mega screwed.

"Ok, I should be back around one, so you guys can go to lunch without me if you want. Um...don't forget to clean up. Peace out!" I yelled as I ran out the door to the truck.

If I wasn't in such a rush, I could've had just enough time to laugh at myself. Seriously, I just sounded like their mother! All humor aside, I pressed the pedal to the metal and pulled into the parking lot mere seconds before the meeting was about to begin.

When I walked in, it turned out that they were still distributing name tags. And much to my surprise, people were still stumbling in after me. Sometimes I honestly believe I worry way too much.

The meeting itself was a great success. I ended up meeting some pretty cool people, some of which I had common classes with this semester, got brochures for internships, and even received a couple of compliments on the drawings I've gathered thus far for my portfolio. Anyone near me could tell that I was excessively ecstatic as I practically skipped back to the truck. At this rate, tonight would definitely be a party night.

I drove home to find two very strange things: it smelled like shit and Kaitlyn had left a note. I plugged my nose in suspicious disgust as I crept into the bathroom to see if I could figure out the source of the massive stench.

I groaned as I looked at the chunk of nastiness resting at the bottom of the toilet. The water was raised unnaturally high, and something told me this thing was clogged. My suspicions were confirmed after four flushes, and no success. No matter how many times I tried to flush afterward, it didn't go up or down...now that's really gross. That note better explain what's going on here.

The note was written on the back of some receipt and resting on the corner of the counter.

It read:

AJ, I'm leaving to go look for a job. Kofi said he'll stay here a little longer, but he'll probably be gone before you get back home.

Love, Kait the Great

I rolled my eyes after reading her signature, but then realized that it must've been Kofi who was the one responsible for the clogged toilet, though it doesn't really seem like something he would do...

I groaned as I pulled the phone book out from under the kitchen desk and looked for a plumber. I dreaded the thought of some gross fat man coming here while I'm helpless and alone - talk about paranoia. Remember: keep the past where it belongs.

I forced myself to dial the number and sat on the couch waiting for him to arrive.

-Jax Teller-

"Is anyone else ready to go look for new prey? I need someone to fuck with," I asked in a bored tone as I skimmed through some text messages in my cell.

All of the guys agreed in their own way as we chugged our liquor besides, as if it were water. At this point in our world, liquor was almost necessary to keep the entertainment and creativity flowing.

As I lounged back in the leather recliner, a random memory suddenly entered my mind, causing some beer to slip past my lips as I began laughing. "What's so funny, man?" James asked, eyeing me strangely.

"Do you guys remember April Mendez, from like 3 or 4 years ago? Damn, I would just love to go hunt her down and finally finish off our first project," I suggested.

Punk had a thoughtful look on his face, as if he was reliving memories, before he finally ended up cheering for the idea. He should be the one to support the idea the most, considering the fact that AJ Lee was his girlfriend at the time.

"You know, that would probably be way better than any of the kills we've done lately. It would be challenging to find her, but damn would it be worth it."

Seth stood up and walked over to the computer nearby. He was always the pro when it came to stalking people. "Don't worry, I'm on it!" he announced with a confidence-filled grin.

He quickly typed April Mendez's name in some weird college database and you'd never believe it, but we found her. It would seem that AJ Lee must have forgotten all about us, because she was stupid enough to return to the neighborhood for her college education.

It's a shame she has no idea what she's in for. And I can promise you that she will greatly regret the day she ever decided to return to Chicago. We each exchanged pleased looks as we gathered around the kitchen table, shoving all the fast food wrappers and bloody utensils out of the way so we could plan properly.

The following morning, Punk, Seth, and I decided to go gather some dirt on AJ Lee, find out where she lives, and create a reason for us to return to her new home later tonight. AJ Lee attended a rather prestigious college located right in the heart of Chicago. It was a sprawling campus, with several residential locations.

Of course, since AJ was so much classier than the other freshman, she's living in the gated community of condos. Luckily, the community was along the edges of the campus, right near a thick forest

Seth drove the van off the main road and down the bumpy, grassy hill to the right. If our calculations were correct, then we should be close to her condo...number 233 A. Once we saw the black rod iron fence, we decided to jump it and try our luck.

"Hers is just a couple feet down the street," Punk noted as we walked slowly down the sidewalk.

I decided to go ahead of the other two slightly, just to get a sneak peak inside the house. As it turns out, it would seem we weren't alone. A girl and a guy were both sitting at the kitchen table, chatting. Looks like all we can do is sit and wait until these little inconveniences disappear.

"Hmm, maybe we could snag that chick as an encore or something?" Seth suggested, nodding toward the black and blond-haired girl.

"That could work...or we could just use them against AJ somehow. I don't really give a shit what we do with them, I just want this to be the best work we've ever done," Punk said.

I nodded, "Don't worry, man. We'll use all our tricks on this one!"

We waited in the bushes until we were sure that both people left the condo. Then, we picked the back door lock and made our way inside. Seth whistled and said, "Check out this place!"

I made my way further into the condo, walking down the short hallway until I ran into two closed doors. "Which one do you think is hers?"

Punk shrugged and kicked both doors open with just enough force to get the job done, yet keep the doors' hinges intact. One room was green and the other was black and white. "This one's definitely her room," he confirmed as he stepped into the green room. Oh that's right, green was her favorite color.

She had tons of band posters plastered across the walls, a HIM comforter on the bed, and framed pictures of her with those two other people along the shelves attached to her desk. Punk stared hard at the photos, his eyes holding a hint of resentment.

He shook his head and placed a hand over his heart and said with a tone of false pain, "She doesn't even have a picture of her and me together! I'm devastated." I humored him with a laugh as I scanned the rest of the room, memorizing every bit of it for our return tonight.

"Hey guys we don't know when the bitch is gonna be back so we better work fast," Seth pointed out, leaning casually against the white door frame.

I got up off her bed and found my way down to the basement to mess with the electric system. And just for a little bit of entertainment, Seth decided to run over to the bathroom and take a massive dump to give me a reason to return as a plumber before the real fun begins.

Before we left, Punk changed the locks around so that we had easy access to the condo tonight, regardless of whether or not little defenseless AJ thinks that the door is locked.

"How'd it go?" James asked, briefly glancing up from his Sports Illustrated magazine.

"It's perfect! We've got the whole house rigged for our benefit and Teller's is gonna head back over there in a couple hours just to fuck with her," Punk exclaimed, reaching into the fridge for an ice cold water bottle. "Also, she doesn't live alone. A girl and guy were there earlier today, so we have a couple toys to use on the side."

"The guy actually lives across the street, but the girl does in fact live with AJ. I think we should take her too for a little extra fun for the rest of us," Seth added, showing off his stalker skills once again.

"I agree with Seth. Do you think you two can keep this chick out of the house until we give you a call confirming AJ Lee's capture?" I asked James and Jimmy.

"Her name is Kaitlyn," Seth interjected.

James smirked, "Sounds hot. Besides, Teller, you know we're the best at stalking, distracting, and capturing!"

I assumed that AJ had to be back home by now, so I drove over to this plumbing place downtown that we had a special connection with. Clearly, we've pulled this particular maneuver before.

Before entering the building, I changed into the navy blue jumpsuit and pulled the hat down low over my forehead. I nodded curtly at the young guy working at the front of the counter.

"Tell... Teller, what are you doing here?" he asked, just barely above a whisper.

I stared at him intently, savoring the fear in his eyes. "Relax kid there's nothing to worry about. I'm actually doing the job this time. No bloodshed involved."

He knew all too well that in most cases I used this cover up to sneak inside homes and steal the beautiful women inside. Technically, I wasn't really lying. AJ would stay safe and sound while I fix her toilet. I wouldn't be using a disguise to take her away tonight.

Ten minutes after my arrival, the phone rang shrilly through the tiny building. "I've got this one," I said reaching excitedly for the phone, clearing my throat to sound professional. "Hello, J T Plumbing. What can I plumb for ya?"

"Um, yeah, my toilet won't flush and, well, someone...you know...emptied a little too much and it won't budge. Do you think you can come out here and fix it?" she asked timidly.

I smiled as the tone of disgust in her voice reached my ears. "Sure, thing darling, that's our job. Can ya give me an address please?"

She told me the address and even gave me the code to get past the gate. I told her I'd be there momentarily and hung up the phone. I loaded a few things into the van and headed back over to the campus.

I arrived at her place a few minutes later and had to silence a laugh as I rang the doorbell and waited to see her filthy little face. The hardest part of this whole thing would be pretending to be nice to her, but it would all be worth it in the end.

I formed a perfectly fake, business-like smile on my face once she opened the door. Her eyes widened momentarily and she hesitated to speak after first seeing me. I knew she didn't recognize me... probably assumed I'd be fat and creepy...even though I didn't think all men of this profession were like that.

But then again, I'm not really a plumber.

In the next Chapter: The Gang Kidnaps AJ Lee

[ludhianrepairs]

Appliance Repair Service in Ludhiana

Ludhiana Repairs is a top home appliance repair and Service Company for all kinds of domestic and commercial electronic repair needs. From installation to maintenance of electronic devices like microwave oven, washing machines, and refrigerators, we can do everything professionally, quickly, and conveniently. We are here to simplify your life by fulfilling your daily requirements with a variety of professional repair, installation, and maintenance services.

Microwave Repair in Ludhiana

Ludhiana Repair offers affordable and reliable microwave oven repair services in Ludhiana. We can repair microwave issues like uneven heating, faulty buttons, and electrical malfunctions. We have a team of expert technicians to provide prompt, reliable solutions for all major microwave oven brands, ensuring great performance. You will get doorstep microwave oven repair service, and the use of genuine parts, they make microwave maintenance easy and stress-free for customers.

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Source: https://ludhianarepairs.blogspot.com/2025/01/appliance-repair-service-in-ludhiana.html

[holytriumphcreation]

“Kitchen Electrical Upgrade Essentials by Master Electricians Near Me”

Introduction

When it comes to upgrading your kitchen, many homeowners might focus primarily on aesthetics: the cabinets, countertops, and appliances. However, one of the most crucial yet often overlooked aspects is the kitchen's electrical system. A well-planned electrical upgrade not only enhances functionality but also ensures safety and efficiency. Whether you're contemplating a http://arthurcpoa076.lowescouponn.com/understanding-the-scope-of-work-by-industrial-electrical-contractors minor remodel or a complete overhaul, understanding the essentials of kitchen electrical upgrades is paramount. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into everything you need to know about "Kitchen Electrical Upgrade Essentials by Master Electricians Near Me."

Table of Contents

Understanding Kitchen Electrical Needs 1.1 Importance of an Electrical Assessment 1.2 Common Kitchen Appliances and Their Power Requirements 1.3 Safety Regulations and Codes Choosing the Right Electrician 2.1 Why Hire a Licensed Electrician? 2.2 Finding a Master Electrician Near You 2.3 Questions to Ask Your Electrician Essential Upgrades for Modern Kitchens 3.1 GFCI Outlet Installation 3.2 Additional Outlets for Appliances 3.3 Lighting Upgrades: LED vs Traditional Bulbs Emergency Electrical Services for Your Kitchen 4.1 Identifying an Electrical Emergency 4.2 The Role of Emergency Electricians Smart Home Integration in Kitchen Upgrades Energy Efficiency in Kitchen Appliances Planning for Future Needs: Flexibility in Design Outdoor Lighting Considerations Ceiling Fan Installation in Kitchens Electrical Repair Services for Existing Installations Importance of Routine Home Electrical Inspections Electrical Circuit Breaker Maintenance Common Mistakes to Avoid During an Upgrade The Benefits of Weekend and After-Hours Electrician Services Budgeting for Your Kitchen Electrical Upgrade The Environmental Impact of Energy-Efficient Solutions Understanding Kitchen Electrical Needs Importance of an Electrical Assessment

Before embarking on any kitchen renovation project, it's vital to assess your current electrical system thoroughly with the help of a licensed electrician near you.

Why Conduct an Assessment?

Identify outdated wiring or circuits that may not handle increased loads. Ensure compliance with local codes and regulations. Spot potential hazards that could lead to fires or malfunctions.

An electrical assessment will help tailor your upgrade plan according to your specific needs.

Common Kitchen Appliances and Their Power Requirements

Modern kitchens host a variety of appliances such as refrigerators, microwaves, dishwashers, and ovens—all requiring varying amounts of power.

| Appliance | Power Requirement (Watts) | |-----------------------|--------------------------| | Refrigerator | 100-800 | | Microwave | 600-1200 | | Dishwasher | 1200-1500 | | Oven | 2000-5000 |

[welldonehomesolution]

Dryer Repair, Oven Installation, and Washer Repair Service near me - What You Need to Know

Home appliances are crucial to your daily routine, from laundry to preparing meals, and are highly relied upon to keep your home operating smoothly. So when something goes inaccurate with one of them, it can be a substantial inconvenience. That's where finding a reliable repair service comes in. 

 What is Dryer Repair? 

Dryers are essential appliances that make laundry a breeze. They use heat to dry clothes and other fabrics quickly, which saves you time and energy. However, like any other machine, dryers can break down or malfunction. That's when you need to call a professional dryer repair service. 

Oven Installation: What is it? 

Installing a new oven may be challenging, whether remodeling your kitchen or replacing an outdated one. Rigorous planning and accurate measurements are needed to guarantee that everything fits and functions as intended. Therefore, it is advisable to let the professionals handle it. 

What is Washer Repair Service? 

Washers are another essential home appliance that can break down or malfunction. They can leak, stop spinning, or fail to drain, leaving you with a pile of wet clothes. Fortunately, professional washer repair services can diagnose and fix these issues quickly. They can replace broken parts, unclog drains, and perform other repairs to get your washer working like new again. 

How to Find Washer Repair, Oven Installation, and Dryer Repair near me 

Now that you know what dryer repair, oven installation, and washer repair services are, it's time to find a reliable provider near you. 

Ask for Referrals

Ask friends, family, and neighbours for recommendations. They may have used a local repair service and can give honest feedback on their experience. 

Look for Certifications and Licences 

Ensure your chosen repair service is certified and licensed for your specific appliance brand. This ensures they have the necessary training and expertise to fix the issue. 

DIY Appliance Repair Tips 

Clean the Lint Filter on Your Dryer 

A clogged lint filter can reduce the efficiency of your dryer and even be a fire hazard. Make sure to clean the lint filter after every load to prevent build-up. 

Check the Oven Door Seal 

A worn or damaged oven door seal can cause heat loss and uneven cooking. Check the seal regularly and replace it if necessary. 

Clean the Washing Machine Hose 

A clogged washing machine hose can cause leaks and other issues. Make sure to clean the hose regularly to prevent build-up. 

Choosing the Right Appliance Repair Service 

Now that you know the benefits of professional repair services and some simple DIY maintenance tips, selecting the right provider for your needs is essential. Here are some additional factors to consider: 

Availability 

Please ensure the repair service you decide is available when required. Many providers offer same-day or emergency repair services for urgent issues. 

Reputation 

Check online reviews and ask for referrals to ensure that the repair service you decide has a good reputation in your community. 

Experience and Expertise 

Ensure the repair service you select has experience and expertise in repairing your specific appliance brand. 

Conclusion 

In conclusion, finding a reliable repair service for home appliances is essential to keeping your household running smoothly. Queries like a dryer repair near me, oven installation near me, washing machine repair near me or washer repair service near me, following the tips in this article can help one find a qualified provider.

For the original version on quora.com visit at: https://welldonehomesolutions.quora.com/Dryer-Repair-Oven-Installation-and-Washer-Repair-Service-near-me-What-You-Need-to-Know

[nicetintzmemphis07]

Memphis’ Premier Destination for Window Tinting and Car Customization

When it comes to elevating the look and performance of your vehicle, few options offer as much versatility and functionality as window tinting and car wraps. Memphis is home to several auto shops, but one destination stands out as the go-to choice for high-quality auto tint Memphis, custom car wraps, and vinyl vehicle enhancements. Let’s explore why this premier destination should be your first stop for vehicle upgrades.

Why Choose Auto Tinting in Memphis?

Auto window tinting is more than just a style statement. It’s a practical investment that offers long-term benefits for your vehicle and personal comfort. Here’s why tinting is a must:

1. UV Protection

Memphis summers can be scorching, and prolonged exposure to UV rays can harm both your skin and your car’s interior. High-quality window tints block up to 99% of UV rays, helping protect your upholstery from fading and your skin from harmful sun exposure.

2. Temperature Regulation

With the sweltering heat of Memphis, a car’s interior can feel like an oven. Window tints help reduce the heat by up to 60%, making your vehicle more comfortable and reducing the workload on your air conditioning system.

3. Privacy and Security

Whether you’re parked downtown or commuting through busy city streets, window tinting provides enhanced privacy. It also deters potential thefts by obscuring the view into your vehicle.

4. Enhanced Aesthetic Appeal

There’s no denying the sleek, polished look that tinted windows give to any car. Memphis drivers seeking to add a touch of sophistication to their vehicles will find that tints are an affordable yet impactful option.

Transform Your Ride with Vinyl Car Wraps

For drivers who want to take their car’s appearance to the next level, a vinyl car wrap is the perfect solution. Memphis’ premier auto shop offers a range of wraps to suit every taste and need.

1. Customization at Its Best

Vinyl wraps allow you to personalize your vehicle in ways traditional paint jobs can’t match. From bold colors and matte finishes to intricate designs, the possibilities are endless.

2. Cost-Effective Makeovers

Unlike a paint job, which can be expensive and permanent, a vinyl wrap is affordable and reversible. Whether you want to showcase a unique design or refresh your car’s look after a few years, wraps are an ideal choice.

3. Paint Protection

A vinyl wrap isn’t just about looks; it acts as a protective layer for your car’s original paint, shielding it from minor scratches, sun damage, and road debris.

4. Versatility

Looking for something specific like a corporate logo or graphic? A vinyl wrap can turn your vehicle into a mobile advertisement, making it perfect for Memphis-based businesses seeking greater visibility.

Where to Find the Best Car Wraps Near Me

If you’ve ever searched for car wraps near me in Memphis, you’re in luck. This premier destination offers cutting-edge technology and expert craftsmanship to ensure your car wrap looks flawless and lasts for years.

Expert Design Consultation

Not sure what style suits your vehicle? Professional designers can help you select the perfect wrap, whether you’re going for a sporty aesthetic, a luxury vibe, or a bold branding statement.

Precision Application

Installing a car wrap requires skill and attention to detail. Trained technicians ensure your wrap is applied smoothly, without bubbles or wrinkles, for a factory-finish appearance.

Top-Quality Materials

Using only premium-grade vinyl ensures durability and vibrancy, even in Memphis’ variable weather conditions.

Combining Tints and Wraps for Maximum Impact

The combination of auto tint Memphis and a vinyl car wrap can completely transform your vehicle. While window tints enhance comfort and functionality, wraps give your car a unique identity. Together, they create a customized, head-turning look that stands out on Memphis streets.

Why Memphis Drivers Love This Auto Shop

Here’s what sets this destination apart:

1. Unparalleled Expertise

With years of experience in tinting and wrapping, their technicians deliver exceptional results that exceed expectations.

2. Affordable Pricing

Offering competitive rates without compromising on quality makes them the top choice for budget-conscious Memphis drivers.

3. Customer-Centric Service

From the initial consultation to post-installation care, their team prioritizes customer satisfaction, ensuring every client drives away happy.

4. Comprehensive Services

Beyond window tinting and wraps, they offer additional services like ceramic coatings, paint protection films, and detailing, making them a one-stop shop for all your vehicle customization needs.

Invest in Your Vehicle Today

Whether you’re seeking protection from the Memphis sun or want to turn your car into a rolling work of art, the combination of window tints and vinyl wraps offers unmatched benefits. By choosing the city’s leading provider of auto tint Memphis, vinyl car wrap, and car wraps near me, you’re investing in quality, style, and performance.

Visit this trusted Memphis destination today to explore their range of services and give your car the upgrade it deserves. With professional craftsmanship and top-tier materials, your vehicle will not only look amazing but also perform better, ensuring you enjoy every mile on the road.

[pluxmarketing]

Find the Best Commercial Kitchen Equipment Suppliers Near You

In the fast-paced world of commercial kitchens, having the right equipment is crucial for success. Restaurants, cafes, and other food establishments rely heavily on their kitchen equipment to prepare and serve high-quality food to their customers. However, finding the best commercial kitchen equipment suppliers can be a daunting task, especially when it comes to finding suppliers near you. A reliable supplier can provide equipment that meets health and safety standards, is efficient, and easy to maintain, which is essential for maintaining a positive reputation and ensuring customer satisfaction.

Characteristics of a Good Commercial Kitchen Equipment Supplier

A good commercial kitchen equipment supplier should have a wide range of equipment to cater to different kitchen needs. This includes ovens, stoves, refrigerators, dishwashers, and utensils, among others. They should also have a good reputation in the industry, with positive reviews and testimonials from satisfied customers. Furthermore, they should offer competitive pricing without compromising on quality, and have a responsive customer service team that can provide support and maintenance services when needed. A supplier with these characteristics can provide kitchens with the equipment they need to succeed, while also providing peace of mind.

How to Find Commercial Kitchen Equipment Suppliers Near You

Finding commercial kitchen equipment suppliers near you requires research and due diligence. One way to start is by searching online for suppliers in your area. This can be done by using search engines such as Google, and searching for keywords such as "Commercial Kitchen Equipment Suppliers equipment suppliers near me" or "restaurant equipment suppliers in [your city]". You can also check online directories such as Yelp or TripAdvisor to find suppliers in your area and read reviews from other customers. Additionally, you can ask colleagues and industry partners for recommendations, as they may have had positive experiences with suppliers in the past.

The Benefits of Working with Local Commercial Kitchen Equipment Suppliers

Working with local commercial kitchen equipment suppliers has numerous benefits. For one, it can help reduce costs and increase profitability. By purchasing equipment from a local supplier, kitchens can save money on shipping and transportation costs, which can add up quickly. Additionally, local suppliers can provide faster delivery and installation times, which can help kitchens get up and running quickly. Local suppliers can also provide better customer service, as they are more invested in building relationships with their customers and providing support and maintenance services.

Tips for Evaluating Commercial Kitchen Equipment Suppliers

When evaluating commercial kitchen equipment suppliers, there are several things to consider. First, consider the supplier's reputation and experience in the industry. Look for suppliers with positive reviews and testimonials from satisfied customers, and ask for references to verify their claims. Next, consider the supplier's product offerings and pricing. Look for suppliers with a wide range of equipment to cater to different kitchen needs, and compare prices to ensure you are getting the best deal. Finally, consider the supplier's customer service and support. Look for suppliers with a responsive customer service team that can provide support and maintenance services when needed.

The Importance of Maintenance and Support Services

Maintenance and support services are crucial for commercial kitchen equipment. Without regular maintenance, equipment can break down, leading to costly repairs and downtime. A good commercial kitchen equipment supplier should offer maintenance and support services, including regular cleaning and maintenance, repairs, and replacement parts. They should also have a responsive customer service team that can provide support and answer questions when needed. By choosing a supplier that offers these services, kitchens can ensure their equipment is running smoothly and efficiently, and that they are getting the support they need to succeed.

Conclusion

In conclusion, finding the best commercial kitchen equipment suppliers near you requires research and due diligence. By considering a supplier's reputation, product offerings, pricing, and customer service, kitchens can find a supplier that meets their needs and provides the equipment and support they need to succeed. By working with a local supplier, kitchens can reduce costs, increase profitability, and get faster delivery and installation times. By choosing a supplier that offers maintenance and support services, kitchens can ensure their equipment is running smoothly and efficiently, and that they are getting the support they need to succeed.

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Reliable Appliance Repair Services Near You in Burbank

Appliances are an essential part of modern life, simplifying everyday tasks and enhancing convenience at home. From refrigerators and washing machines to ovens and dishwashers, these devices work tirelessly to keep your household running smoothly. However, when an appliance breaks down, it can disrupt your routine and create unnecessary stress. That’s when professional appliance repair near me Burbank become invaluable, offering quick and efficient solutions to restore functionality to your home.

Appliance malfunctions can happen for various reasons, from general wear and tear to electrical issues or improper usage. Common problems include refrigerators that won’t cool, washing machines that leak, or ovens that fail to heat. Regardless of the issue, attempting to fix it yourself can often lead to further damage or safety risks. Professional repair technicians have the knowledge, tools, and experience needed to diagnose and fix a wide range of appliance problems effectively.

One of the primary benefits of hiring a local Pasadena home appliance repair is the convenience it provides. When you search for “appliance repair near me” in Burbank, you’re likely to find experienced professionals who can respond promptly to your call. Local technicians understand the urgency of your situation and are often able to offer same-day or next-day service. This quick response minimizes downtime and helps you get back to your daily routine as soon as possible.

Choosing a professional repair service also ensures that your appliance is fixed correctly the first time. Certified technicians have the expertise to work with a variety of brands and models, from popular household names to high-end specialty appliances. They can accurately identify the root cause of the problem and provide targeted repairs that address the issue without unnecessary replacements or costs.

High-quality appliance repair services prioritize the use of genuine replacement parts. Using original parts ensures that your appliance operates as intended and reduces the likelihood of future breakdowns. Reliable repair companies also back their work with warranties, giving you peace of mind and confidence in the durability of the repair.

Safety is another critical reason to rely on professionals for appliance repair. Faulty appliances can pose significant risks, such as electrical shocks, gas leaks, or fire hazards. Trained technicians follow strict safety protocols to ensure that the repair process is safe for both your home and your family. Additionally, they can provide valuable advice on how to maintain your appliances to prevent similar issues in the future.

Cost savings are a significant advantage of professional appliance repair. While replacing a malfunctioning appliance might seem like a straightforward solution, it is often much more expensive than repairing it. Skilled technicians can extend the lifespan of your existing appliances, allowing you to save money and avoid the hassle of shopping for and installing a new one.

Finding the right appliance repair service near you in Burbank requires a bit of research. Look for a company with a strong reputation for customer satisfaction, as evidenced by positive reviews and testimonials. Transparent pricing, clear communication, and friendly customer service are also important factors to consider. A reputable repair service will provide a detailed estimate before starting any work, ensuring there are no surprises when it comes to costs.

In addition to offering repair services, many companies provide maintenance packages to keep your appliances running smoothly. Regular maintenance can help identify potential issues early, improving the efficiency of your appliances and reducing the likelihood of unexpected breakdowns. Services such as cleaning coils, checking seals, and inspecting electrical components can significantly extend the life of your appliances.

Appliance repair services near Burbank cater to a wide range of needs, from minor fixes to complex repairs. Whether you’re dealing with a temperamental dishwasher, a noisy dryer, or a refrigerator that’s lost its cool, professional technicians are equipped to handle it all. Their goal is to deliver efficient, reliable solutions that restore your appliances to peak performance.

When an appliance malfunctions, it’s essential to act quickly to prevent the issue from worsening. By choosing a trusted appliance repair service near Burbank, you can enjoy the benefits of expert care, prompt service, and long-lasting results. Instead of enduring the inconvenience of a broken appliance or risking a DIY repair, rely on skilled professionals to get the job done right.

With their expertise and commitment to customer satisfaction, local appliance repair specialists make it easy to keep your home running smoothly. Whether it’s your refrigerator, washing machine, oven, or another essential appliance, professional repair services provide the support you need to tackle any problem with confidence.

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Electrical Experts Wantage

Power is undoubtedly the most important service in this day & age.

But the problem is finding a trustworthy & reliable electrician to keep you connected.

That’s where we come in.

With a desire to deliver an incomparably high service, combined with our soaring install standards. We’re confident that you can rest easy, knowing your project is taken care of.  Electrical Experts Wantage

Power Solutions

Connecting your spaces, through reliable & friendly service.

Sockets Inside & Out

Powering up your space with sockets for all occasions. Including standard-13 Amp, USB, projector, weatherproof sockets, 5Amp lighting sockets & commando sockets.

Outbuilding Supplies

From home gyms & summer houses to garages & sheds. We’re happy to help with all power needs.

Induction Hobs & Cooker Points

For all cooking requirements, we’ll happily supply power to any type of oven. Local Electrician near me

Garden Power

Anytime you need that little bit extra power in the garden, we’d love to help. For installs such as pond pumps, feature lighting, pergola power, decking lights, hot tubs etc.