#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."

[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

[darsappliancerepairmd]

Business Name: Dars Appliance Repair

Street Address: 19918 Buhrstone Dr

City: Gaithersburg

State: Maryland (MD)

Zip Code: 20886

Country: USA

Business Phone Number: (800) 605-4845

Business Email Address: info@darsappliancerepair.com

Website: https://www.darsappliancerepair.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DarsApplianceRepair/

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6Qs-ouGjIpJJ6kZR27eZKA

Description: Locally Owned and Operated, Dars Appliance repair is a full-service appliance repair company with the ability to service any appliance brand in DC, Maryland, and Northern Virginia. We have an extensive history of repair service on all types and brands of major appliances found in the home. This includes refrigerators, freezers, stoves, ovens, dishwashers, clothes washers, clothes dryers, garbage disposals, ice makers, and exhaust fans. Dars Appliance Repair provides quality workmanship with professional, dependable, and courteous service. We offer emergency service 6 days a week so that you can count on us to be there when you need us the most.

Google My Business CID URL: https://www.google.com/maps?cid=4787549715805539445

Business Hours: Sunday Closed Monday 7:00am-7:00pm Tuesday 7:00am-7:00pm Wednesday 7:00am-7:00pm Thursday 7:00am-7:00pm Friday 7:00am-7:00pm Saturday 7:00am-7:00pm

Services: Appliance Repair services, Dryer vent cleaning, and replacement service

Keywords: Dars Appliance Repair, refrigerator repair near me, refrigerator repair, oven repair, stove repair, range repair, same day appliance repair service, beat appliance repair service, dryer vent cleaning service, dryer vent replacement, dryer vent installation, washer repair, same day washer repair, dryer repair near me, appliance repair store Gaithersburg MD, appliance repair near me, Ice Maker Repair, Freezer Repair, Cooktop Repair, Garbage Disposal Repair

Discounts: Free service call with repair ($85 value)

$35 coupon for the repeat customer.

Senior Citizen, Military, or Handicap Discounts: $35

Business/Company Establishment Date: 01-09-2010

Business Slogan: Dars Appliance Repair- Your trusted local repair company.

Number of Employees: 1-10

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[aceappliancesrepair]

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.

[carterselectricalservices]

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.

[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

[hariyhub07]

Transform Your Space: Kitchen Remodeling Ideas Close to Home

The kitchen is often considered the heart of the home, a place where culinary creativity flourishes and family memories are made. As such, the desire to remodel this vital space is a common aspiration for many. Whether you are looking to enhance functionality, update aesthetics, or simply create a fresh environment, the concept of “kitchen remodeling near me” offers a wealth of opportunities that are easily accessible. This article delves into a variety of kitchen remodeling ideas that can transform your space, making it more inviting and practical, all while ensuring the process remains close to your home.

Embrace Open Concept Living

One of the most popular trends in kitchen remodeling is the shift towards open concept designs. This approach eliminates barriers between the kitchen and adjoining living spaces, creating a fluid and interconnected environment. By removing walls, you not only enhance the aesthetic appeal but also improve the flow of natural light throughout the home. Imagine preparing a meal while engaging with family or friends in the adjacent living room—this design fosters a sense of togetherness that is invaluable.

To achieve an open-concept kitchen, consider incorporating an island or breakfast bar. These features serve as both functional and social spaces, providing additional seating while maintaining an easy flow for cooking and entertaining. You might also want to explore the use of varied materials and textures for the island to create a visual focal point. For instance, a wooden countertop paired with sleek metal accents can instill a sense of warmth while adding modern sophistication.

Optimize Storage Solutions

In any kitchen remodeling project, effective storage is key. As you contemplate the phrase “kitchen remodeling near me,” it’s essential to think of innovative storage solutions that maximize space without sacrificing style. Traditional cabinets can sometimes fall short in terms of functionality, so consider alternative options that can elevate your kitchen’s efficiency.

Custom cabinetry is a fantastic option that can be tailored to fit your unique needs. Whether you require deep drawers for pots and pans or pull-out shelves for easy access to spices, custom solutions will ensure that every inch of your kitchen is utilized effectively. Moreover, incorporating vertical storage, such as hanging shelves or wall-mounted racks, can free up counter space while adding a touch of creativity to your kitchen layout.

Another trend gaining traction is the use of open shelving. This design choice not only showcases your beautiful dishware and decor but also encourages you to keep your kitchen organized. By displaying your most-used items, you can create an inviting atmosphere while ensuring everything is within easy reach. However, it’s important to strike a balance; too much open shelving can lead to clutter. Thus, consider mixing closed cabinetry with open shelves for a polished yet functional look.

Modernize with Technology

In today’s fast-paced world, integrating smart technology into your kitchen is not just a luxury—it’s becoming a necessity. When exploring “kitchen remodeling near me,” think about how modern technology can enhance your cooking experience and overall convenience. From smart refrigerators that help you manage groceries to voice-activated assistants that can turn on your oven or lighting, technology can simplify daily tasks and add a level of sophistication to your kitchen.

For instance, consider installing a smart lighting system that allows you to adjust brightness and color temperature based on your mood or time of day. This not only enhances the ambiance of your kitchen but also provides practicality during meal prep and entertaining. Additionally, smart appliances, such as ovens with built-in cameras or dishwashers that can be controlled via smartphone apps, offer unparalleled convenience and efficiency.

Focus on Sustainable Materials

As more homeowners become environmentally conscious, incorporating sustainable materials into your kitchen remodeling project is a thoughtful choice that resonates with today’s values. When searching for “kitchen remodeling near me,” you’ll find numerous options for eco-friendly materials that not only look beautiful but also contribute to a healthier planet.

For cabinetry, consider wood sourced from sustainable forests or recycled materials that reduce waste. When selecting countertops, explore options like recycled glass, bamboo, or even reclaimed wood—each choice provides unique aesthetics while minimizing environmental impact. Furthermore, energy-efficient appliances not only lower utility bills but also come with the added benefit of reducing your carbon footprint.

In addition to materials, think about incorporating energy-efficient lighting solutions. LED lights consume less energy and have a longer lifespan compared to traditional bulbs, making them a smart investment for any kitchen remodel. By making conscious choices about materials and appliances, you can create a stunning kitchen that reflects your values.

Conclusion: Creating Your Dream Kitchen

Embarking on a kitchen remodeling journey is an exciting opportunity to redefine your space and create an environment that reflects your lifestyle. By considering open concept designs, optimizing storage solutions, modernizing with technology, and focusing on sustainable materials, you’ll be well on your way to crafting the kitchen of your dreams. As you explore the possibilities of “kitchen remodeling near me,” remember that this transformation is not just about aesthetics; it’s about creating a space where memories are made, meals are shared, and life is celebrated.

Take the time to research local resources, gather inspiration, and plan meticulously. With thoughtful consideration and a clear vision, your kitchen remodel will not only enhance your home’s functionality but also enrich your everyday life. Let your creativity flow, and transform your kitchen into a space that truly embodies your style and values.

[jodilinbio]

The fact that a guy named Steven sold our house for a surprising $83,500—just shy of our asking price of $85,000—only two weeks after it hit the market raised a red flag in my mind and sent my bad vibes crawling. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go wrong, as if a higher power knew we’d need every penny we could get.

Steven was one of the biggest con artists we’d ever encountered, alongside Dan, the well driller, and Gravity, the general contractor. They were all part of an elaborate scam, with the well driller being the worst offender. He deliberately underestimated the necessary depth of our well to extract more money later, but we refused to pay beyond our initial agreement. Instead, we ended up spending three months in hotels while they botched multiple aspects of the project. To help stay on days, I took Melatonin, which I managed for an incredible six months.

The first month was spent at the Siesta Suites in Scottsdale. The place was typical of Arizona apartments—noisy, with thin walls and constant activity, whether it was landscaping, painting, or repairs.

Despite the chaos, we found some enjoyment along the way. We shopped for new items for the house, and even though it was hectic, I relished the process, even as I regained all the weight I had lost after quitting smoking and jumped back up to 125 pounds. With the circumstances being what they were, watching my weight wasn’t a priority.

Dennis, a coworker of Tom’s, seemed like a lifeline when he loaned us his thirty-year-old, twenty-seven-foot trailer on October 17th, 1999. While it was far from glamorous, it was better than a hotel room. Still, we had to visit hotels every other day for showers. Siphoning water into the tank was a hassle, and the near-pressureless showers were less than ideal. Keeping the propane tanks filled was a struggle, too; while the days were warm, nights were frigid. As a result, we became regulars at the Fairfield Inn, where I often chatted with Teresa at the front desk while grabbing coffee and snacks.

Tom and Dennis agreed on $400 a month for the trailer, but by the time we were finished with the trailer, we owed him $1,000. Dennis had initially seemed generous, so Tom didn’t anticipate he’d demand the full amount upon retrieval of the trailer to buy some sporting equipment he wanted. Instead of helping us, Dennis exploited our situation, seeing it as a way to make money.

After Tom switched from nights to days at the bank, we finally moved into our new home, which I proudly named Desert Winds Ranch, just a few days after New Year’s 2000. It was a welcome change from the noise of our previous life, with the nearest neighbor over 400 feet away. Occasionally, we’d hear distant music, but it was nothing compared to when we were in Phoenix. Plus there were some sonic booms and gunshots during hunting season, alongside the distant barking of dogs.

Our house featured a living room, a den, a dining area, and four bedrooms, including a small retreat off the master suite with a spacious bathroom and a garden tub separate from the shower stall. Though the model showcased two sinks, I opted for one sink and extra cabinets instead. The closet was large enough to fit two twin beds.

The kitchen had a skylight, a dishwasher, a garbage disposal, and an oven with a digital temperature display that beeped when preheated. It was self-cleaning too, something I’d never had before until then. However, the refrigerator’s ice maker remained unused, as our well water tasted surprisingly salty.

A few things were done poorly that bothered me, like the absence of an evaporative cooler. Installing one would have required additional money and awkward ductwork along the vaulted ceiling. The wallboards were also sloppily done, with noticeable seams that could have benefited from tape and texture, but that was more costly too.

The denim blue carpet turned out darker than I had expected, and the tulip design I chose for the kitchen and bathroom wallboards wasn’t as appealing as it seemed at first. Still, denim blue was better than brown, and the tulips weren’t ugly.

The best part was that the house was custom-made to our specifications, aside from the basic model. No one else had lived there before. While I didn’t have many options, I chose whitewash for the kitchen and bathroom cabinets and white linoleum for the kitchen floor. Unfortunately, there was an ugly red stain in the spot where they marked the vent. I opted for blue exterior paint with white trim, my first choice from the available options. The smooth countertops were a welcome change from the drab ceramic tiles we had in Phoenix.

For years, I had used my grandparents’ furniture and my parents’ silverware and plates, which was fine at first, but finally, we had our own items—things we had selected ourselves.

It was hard to believe that less than a decade ago, I worried about where my next meal would come from. Now, my biggest decisions revolved around color schemes and decor. For a while, it would be that way, anyway.

The view was breathtaking. Gone were the sounds of shouting, honking horns, and blaring sirens—now, the dominant soundtrack was nature itself. Mountains loomed in the distance in every direction, and in one direction, you could see at least forty or fifty miles away. At night, the distant lights of Casa Grande twinkled like stars on the horizon. It was hard to believe that barely a decade ago, my view consisted of run-down, graffiti-covered buildings. I had come a long way from that filth, poverty, and ugliness.

But the land wasn’t without its imperfections. At some point, someone had gutted a trailer on our property, leaving all kinds of junk behind. People also had the habit of tossing trash they didn’t burn, and the desert winds would blow old shopping bags and other garbage onto our land.

Dogs were another issue. With no leash laws and many in Arizona unwilling to keep their dogs indoors, our land became a free-for-all for the town’s roaming pets, even a few horses and a llama!

While the neighbors weren’t problematic, they could be nosy. I was surprised, considering this was a place people moved to for solitude. George, the elderly man who owned the ten acres behind us, made it a point to introduce himself. He informed us that he’d split his property into five two-acre lots and planned to build rentals on the two that remained empty—a plan we weren’t thrilled about. We suspected he hoped we’d offer to share our well, but we never did. Later, his workers brazenly ignored our “no trespassing” sign, strolling onto our property when they saw our well-being worked on, eager to know all about it and slow things down even more.

Our nearest neighbors were a Mexican family—consisting of a woman in her forties, her daughter, the daughter’s husband, and their five-year-old son. They came by to meet us and to ask if we owned the loose dogs that had killed their chickens.

Dan, who lived diagonally from us, could be obnoxious at times, revving engines for hours or blasting music. He moved a year later, but not before stopping by when he saw Gravity and his tractor—hoping to hire some tractor work for himself.

It seemed the more I tried to escape people, the more they intruded. They were on the phone, in the mail, at the door. I half-expected to open the fridge and find someone in there, too!

Maricopa, split by the Ak-Chin Indian reservation, was a farming community with privately owned lots with manufactured homes. Few houses were built on-site, and the range of residents was broad. It wasn’t unusual to see a well-kept home next to a dilapidated dump strewn with trash.

The only downside to the fresh country air was the occasional whiff of horse manure, though that depended on which way the wind blew. Maricopa had rules—one house per acre, one large animal per acre, and no home closer than twenty-five feet from the property line.

In spring, beekeepers often worked on the farms nearby, and swarms of bees would gather in the trees, including those on our land. The incessant buzzing was something straight out of a horror movie and rather unnerving.

It was convenient living just fifteen minutes from the reservation casinos, but financial problems soon resurfaced, limiting how often we could go.

Maricopa’s town center didn’t offer much back in 2000: a Circle K, a Dairy Queen, a feed and grain store, a junkyard, a manufactured home dealer, a church, a school, a funeral home, and police and fire substations. Even the small town I grew up in back East had more. Maricopa didn’t even have a bank, though it did have a small post office, where we rented a P.O. box after transferring our mail from Tempe, as there were no delivery services where we lived. Today, it’s quite a bustling town.

Being outside the Valley of the Sun, Maricopa had more extreme weather. Summers were hotter, and winters were colder, with highs and lows fluctuating greatly—a 70º day could plummet to 35º by morning.

Tom and I settled into our new home, and life was good. We set up our new furniture, and I had fun decorating. We talked about future plans—a pool, an Arizona room, porches, sheds, barns, horses, fences. I had achieved all my major goals and no longer craved the ones I hadn’t.

We bought a home gym, and I started to tone up and lose weight, getting back down to around 105 pounds.

The only sad event after moving in was losing Scuttles, my favorite rat at the time. The dark brown rat died suddenly, just five months after we brought him home. Vanilla Belly had passed while we were still living in the trailer, leaving us with Ratsy and Bear. I despised Bear; he was a mean, half-blind tan rat. He died around the time we got Houdini, a light brown rat named for his escape artist antics. He’d often hide behind boxes in the master closet. Houdini eventually nestled into my heart even more than Scuttles had.

Yes, life was good. We had a beautiful house, and it was finally quiet. But as predicted, things did break and leak more than they should have.

Little did we know that while we had left the noise behind, something else followed us. Something filled with a hatred far beyond our understanding, and one day, after finding myself bored with nothing left to do, there was a knock on the door.

Suddenly, I wasn’t the least bit bored.

[gssoftwareposts]

Top Commercial Kitchen Equipment Manufacturer in Kolkata: Quality and Innovation

Running a successful food business not only requires passion, perseverance, and a keen understanding of your customers' tastes but also the right Kitchen equipment for producing the best quality food. Shiv Shakti, a leading commercial kitchen equipment manufacturer in Kolkata, offers a comprehensive range of products that cater to the diverse needs of the food industry. From bakery equipment to gas pipelines, we provide high-quality, durable,  solutions designed to enhance the productivity of any commercial kitchen.

Let's have a look at our comprehensive range of kitchen equipment, particularly industrial cooking equipment. From bakery ovens and grills to high-capacity fryers and versatile food processors, we cater to every aspect of modern food preparation. and streamline operations in busy kitchens.

Types of Equipment :

Display Counter :

The food display counter by Shiv Shakti, constructed of durable materials like stainless steel and glass, is easy to clean, hygienic, and ideal for a variety of food items to be accommodated without overcrowding. The designs of this display food counter are ergonomic with controlling temperature mechanisms like refrigeration or heating elements to ensure that food stays fresh.

Food Cart :

A well-built food cart food truck crafted from sturdy stainless steel for durability comes with an efficient gas burner and ample amount of storage for food ingredients. Shiv Shakti is the best food cart manufacturer in Kolkata that provides high-quality food trucks or thela at an affordable price making it the top choice of Street food vendors in Kolkata.

Coffee Machine :

Coffee lovers will understand that it's not just any coffee machine that can deliver that perfect frothing every time. As the manufacturer of quality Coffee machines, Shiv Shakti uses components like high-grade brass, copper, and BPA-free materials with an advanced brewing system.

Refrigeration equipment :

Commercial glass door refrigerators are made for commercial settings such as cafeterias, convenience stores, etc. Made from sleek metal frames complementing the glass Interior LED lighting is often incorporated to illuminate the food and drinks. Shiv Shakti Commercial Fridge manufacturers, suppliers & exporters in Kolkata also provide double-door commercial refrigerators and 4 door commercial refrigerators.

Bar Equipments :

Shiv Shakti, a leading bar equipment manufacturer in Kolkata specializes in producing and supplying equipment and supplies for bars. Bar Setup like Cocktail Station, Mocktail Station, Blender Station with Sink, Glass Dump, bar mats, plastic stirrer, silver and bakery bar equipment.

Kitchen Exhaust and Gas Pipeline :

Our commercial Kitchen exhaust fan installation plays a crucial role in maintaining air quality and removing smoke, odours, and grease particles generated during cooking. On the other hand Gas pipeline systems withstand the pressure and flow of gas and are manufactured to meet safety standards.

As a food business now, when you look for the best commercial kitchen equipment manufacturer near me Shiv Shakti is here to meet the specific requirements of commercial kitchens, considering factors such as kitchen layout, size, and ventilation needs. A team of experts who can provide guidance and support throughout the selection, installation, and maintenance process.

[fixappliancetx22]

We-Fix Appliance Repair Katy

Contact Address: 440 Cobia Dr 1st floor, Katy, TX 77494

Phone: 281-940-2415

Website URL

About US Eliminate appliance troubles swiftly with We Fix Appliance Repair, your trusted destination for swift, professional appliance repairs. Say goodbye to the frustration caused by malfunctioning household appliances, whether it's your refrigerator, dishwasher, or oven, our adept technicians are here to provide expert solutions.

At We Fix Appliance Repair, our dedicated team boasts the know-how to repair a wide range of appliances, regardless of brand or model. We understand the value of your time, offering flexible scheduling options and quick appointments to minimize disruptions to your daily life.

Our commitment to excellence extends to the quality of our service and parts. We provide a labor warranty and guarantee on installed parts. If you ever feel dissatisfied with our service, we're committed to making things right with a follow-up appointment. Contact us today for reliable appliance repairs and the quality service you deserve. Your appliances are in capable hands!

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Working Hours: Mon –Sun8 AM–6 PM

Payment method: Cash, check, all cc

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