#Upright Triple Door Freezer

[islanddisplayfreezer]

Triple Door Display Freezer – Sleek, Spacious & Energy Efficient!

Looking for a high-performance Triple Door Display Freezer that combines style with functionality? iCool Australia Food Equipment, located at 877 Princes Highway, Springvale VIC 3171, offers a premium Upright Triple Door Freezer designed for commercial use. With energy-efficient cooling, ample storage, and a sleek glass door design, this freezer is perfect for supermarkets, restaurants, and retail spaces.

Whether you need a Triple Door Upright Freezer for frozen goods display or a Triple Door Freezer Commercial solution for high-volume storage, this unit ensures optimal performance and visibility. To explore this freezer and other refrigeration solutions, contact iCool Australia Food Equipment at +61 430 001 816 or email australiafoodequipment@outlook.com.

[bruhm-appliances]

Discover Bruhm's diverse range of freezers, from upright to chest and showcase models. Find the ideal freezer to suit your home or business needs, ensuring freshness and convenience with every purchase.

[halfmoth-halfman]

i. it's a new day, it's a new life

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: alcohol mention, (very, very brief) blood mention Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. prev | next

If you’re on time, you’re late.

That’s what your father drilled into your head—one of his many rules for life and how it should be lived. As a kid, you hadn’t cared much about the endless rules and regulations and life lessons he tried to impart on you, but as an adult, you’ve found an appreciation for his old words of wisdom. You try to live your life accordingly—be a woman he would’ve been proud of.

Though, you suppose trying to make him proud is what got you in this situation in the first place.

Regardless, his schedule is burned into your brain, leaving you wide awake and ready to go a full two hours before your first shift at The 141. Nerves and excitement combine into a cocktail of restlessness that has you pacing the length of your motel room. It’s a short walk both ways, your feet following the already well-worn path of the dingy, frayed carpet.

When pacing doesn’t settle you, you opt to lie down. Flopping back onto the partially stained sheets of your lumpy bed to stare up at the ceiling—its popcorn surface cracked and chipped from a shoddy attempt at repairing the water damage.

This isn’t where you expected to end up—stuck in some rundown motel with nothing but the clothes on your back.

You thought you’d get much farther than this.

But with hardly any cash and a car running on empty, rival territory seemed as good a place to stop as any. At the very least, it meant you wouldn’t be followed.

If there were any rules your father was lenient on, crossing into 141 territory wasn’t one of them; everyone in your family—and anyone who was familiar with them—knew better than to disobey him.

Had he a grave, you might’ve actually visited it to give your thanks.

A stray mattress spring digs into your lower back—sharp edge scratching through your thin, black shirt and the thick denim of your jacket—pulling you from your wandering thoughts.

Might as well get a head start.

You bounce yourself into an upright position, double-checking the laces of your boots before you stand. The lights flicker when you flip the switch, flashing too bright before shutting off as you step out into crisp autumn air. You look at the door behind you, slotting your keys between your fingers to form a makeshift claw in your fist as you cross the parking lot to your car.

Your car’s in as bad shape as the room—bought used, and paid for in cash—but it gets you where you need to go, so you don’t complain. You slide into the driver’s seat—shutting the door twice because it never closes all the way the first time—and check for your duffle bag in the backseat before putting your key in the ignition. It takes a minute to start, then another to stop rattling, but you have extra time and don’t mind the wait.

The drive to the club is uneventful—too early for morning traffic—and you have another hour before you’re meant to start, so you take your time on the drive.

You park in the back this time, tucking your duffle bag under the backseat, then double and triple-checking that the doors are locked before making your way to the front of the club.

No one else appears to be inside, but the door’s unlocked, and the lights are on. You can see a small, wheeled cart full of cleaning supplies sitting near the stage that you can only guess is for you. If your watch is correct, you have a little under half an hour before you have to start. You could start now—get a jump on what you're sure is to be a busy day—or…

Your father’s armchair tales ring in the back of your head.

What was it he had said?

They paint the walls red so you can’t see the blood stains and keep the bodies in a morgue hidden behind the walk-in freezer.

You doubt there are any secret morgues, but you are curious about the rest of the interior. And it would help to be familiar with the layout before you start cleaning, right?

It takes alarmingly little to convince yourself to have a little walkabout—you always were too curious for your own good—making your way to the bar first. The stairs leading to the second floor are on the left and roped off with a thick velvet cord, so you turn your attention to the right side.

The booths don’t interest you; though the heavy curtains cover them, you know what lies behind them. There's a short hall past them that leads to a large set of double doors with glass windows that reveal part of a massive kitchen. Even from here, you can tell the countertops are polished to perfection. It almost reminds you of—

Nope.

You turn away from the kitchen, ignoring the small knot of dread and nostalgia that begins to settle in the pit of your stomach. You turn to face the stage, leaning back against the bar top. There’s a hallway to the left of the stage that winds around behind it, but there are no lights to illuminate the way, and you know better than to wander down unlit hallways.

That just leaves—

Between the booths and the hallway behind the stage are a pair of solid black double doors. Similar to the one in front of the stairs, a gold stanchion sits in front of them, but there’s no velvet cord connecting them.

You’ve got twenty-six minutes to kill.

Why not?

A small skip down the stairs and a few hurried steps, and you’re at the door, glancing to your left and right before you set a hand on the cold metal of the door handle and turn.

With a sharp click, the door sways open.

Why don’t they ever lock their doors?

You creep inside, holding the handle down to shut the door silently behind you. You’re let into a small waiting room with more double doors—this set is solid glass, save for the handles, with one door slightly askew. You take that as an invitation, waltzing through the doors with care to not leave fingerprints on the glass.

You’d have to be the one to clean them, after all.

A strange sense of nostalgia hits you as soon as you enter the office. All dark wood and luxury, you’re hit by the scent of cigars—the expensive kind your father kept in his own office but never actually smoked—with undertones of a spiced cologne. You stand opposite the desk—a spacious cocobolo covered in papers, picture frames, and a closed laptop.

The wall to your right has been converted to several overflowing bookshelves surrounding a large fireplace. The wall to your left houses a large TV and a fully stocked whiskey cabinet that stretches up to the ceiling. Plush couches sit on either side of you—two near the fireplace and one facing the wall-mounted television—matching the chairs sitting in front of the desk.

Probably shouldn’t be in here.

You ignore the desk and the alcohol, heading straight for the wall of books. There are a few you recognize, but most are unfamiliar to you. Your fingertips graze the spines, admiring the soft feel of the leather covers as you search for titles you know.

It takes a few shelves, but you manage to find one you recognize. You pluck it from the shelf without a thought—in awe at the beautiful, custom cover—but the weight of it takes you by surprise. It’s not an overly thick book, you think, balancing it in one hand to open the cover, so why is it—

The carved-out pages are a surprise.

The gun even more so.

Definitely shouldn’t be in here.

“Find something you like?”

You snap the book shut with a swiftness, holding it behind your back as you slowly turn toward the doors. A man stands in the open space, staring you down with an arched brow on his otherwise blank face.

He hadn’t been there the day before; you’re sure you would’ve remembered him if he had.

Kyle and the others had seemed friendly—if somewhat caught off-guard—but this man is all authority. Calm, intimidating authority. Gentle waves ready to pull you into the violent undertow.

Dark brown hair just beginning to grey at the temples and…unique facial hair; he stares you down with piercing blue eyes and thick arms folded across his broad chest.

You know designer when you see it.

And though he appears dressed in simple black pants and a white button-up with rolled-up sleeves, you can tell the fabric, and its quality, cost more than most anyone could afford.

He’s handsome—in a stern, professor sort of way.

“Good read?” he asks, stormy cerulean gaze dipping down to where your hands are tucked behind your back.

Oh.

That deep rasp melts into your ears, dripping into your brain to pour a fiery path down your spine and settle into a burning pit low in your belly.

“I wasn’t— I—” you stutter, struggling for words and praying he can’t see the red blooming on your face.

Calm down.

The worst he can do is kill you.

You collect yourself, opening your mouth to respond properly, but he beats you to it, “Club’s not open right now, love.”

“I work here,” you say, plastering that award-winning smile on your face. His eyes snap to yours, thick brows knitting together.

“That so?” he asks, slow and disbelieving. “And what is it you do here?”

“Clean,” you answer. You move the book-slash-gun-case to one hand so you can check your watch. “In fact, my shift starts in…two minutes and thirty-six seconds. So, I should probably…y’know…go clean.”

You take easy, deliberate steps, moving in front of the desk so you can set the book on top of it. You try to be discreet, but something about those eyes tells you not much gets past this man. You take a step forward, but he doesn’t move, standing firmly in your path.

“The new cleaner,” he sighs, uncrossing his arms to run his thumb over an eyebrow. “It’s Robin, yeah?”

“Canary, actually.” The smile does little to hide the bite in your voice, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Canary,” he says your name slowly, letting it roll off his tongue as if to get a taste of your character. “The woman my son hired with no phone and asked to be paid in cash.”

His son? Kyle?

Well…at least your boss is nice to look at.

“Yep, that would be me—” you straighten up, extending your hand out to him, “—pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Sir,” he laughs to himself—a quiet, amused huff just under his breath—and reaches out to wrap his large hand around yours. “Price. John Price.”

His handshake is firm—a little too firm in your opinion—but he’s so warm the heat from his skin sinks into your palm and spreads up your arm.

“Did Gaz go over the club rules with you when he hired you?” Mr. Price asks, holding your gaze as he shakes your hand.

“Gaz?”

“My son, Kyle.”

“Oh. No, not really.” The handshake continues through your short conversation, his hand slowly tightening around yours. You loosen your grip to pull away, but his fingers squeeze around yours.

“I won’t bore you with the details, then. But I’ll let you know the most important one.”

Shocks of pain shoot through your wrist as his hand tightens into a vice. He yanks you forward with surprising strength, and you stumble at the sudden jerk. You catch yourself before you collide with him, but you’re significantly closer—almost chest-to-chest with him.

He takes it in stride, leaning down to set his mouth near your ear. His beard scratches at your skin as the pressure from his hand begins to cut off circulation in your own.

He smells just how his office looks: all smoked wood and wealth and danger.

“You don’t come into my office. Ever. Understood?” His voice is a quiet growl in your ear—a gentle one-time forgiveness with a warning that is more promise than threat; you doubt he’s ever made a threat he wouldn’t follow through on.

A chill wracks your body.

You can’t tell if it’s from fear or inappropriate excitement.

He pulls back to look at you, ocean-hued eyes staring down into yours. You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you nod, and finally he lets go of your hand.

He brushes past you, scent lingering behind as you attempt to massage the feeling back into your palm.

“You can go home for the day. Start fresh tomorrow,” Mr. Price says casually, picking up the book you’d left on his desk and heading to return it to its place on the bookshelf. “Ghost will show you out.”

You whip around to stare at his back in confusion.

“Ghost?”

Is this place fucking haunted?

What are the ethics of employing the dead?

He looks back at you, nodding at something over your shoulder. You slowly follow his gaze, turning your head like a horror-movie protagonist.

Your nose nearly collides with an impressively solid chest. You crane your head up, searching for a face that must be attached to this solid wall of muscle and intimidation before you. How had a man that size gotten so close without a sound?

He’s dressed in solid black, this giant, every inch of skin covered from the neck down. A cloth mask rests over the bottom half of his face, white paint dried and chipping in the shape of the bottom half of a skull. His honey-brown eyes are shadowed by smudged black paint that reminds you all too much of your three-day-old eyeliner after a weekend bender. His sandy-blonde hair is cropped short, strands hanging messily over his forehead. Twin scars bisect his left eyebrow and eyelid, and pull taut as he glares down at you.

“Let’s go.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, crushing grip wrapping around your forearm to pull you toward the door. He shoves you through it—not hard, but forceful enough for you to trip over your own feet—following directly behind you.

“See you tomorrow, Sparrow!” Mr. Price calls just as the door shuts.

Ghost follows you all the way to the parking lot, close enough for you to feel his body heat at your back at all times. He watches you get into your car, shut the door once then twice, and listens to the engine struggle to a start.

He doesn’t leave as you pull out of the lot, and you can see his shadowy form watching you in your rear-view mirror.

You get back to the motel in record time, but once you pull into a space, you can’t find it in yourself to get out. Instead, you fold your arms over the steering wheel, dropping your head on top.

“What am I doing?” you mumble, pressing your forehead into your arms.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

What are you doing?

You didn’t have to be here. You could’ve been back in the comfort of your home, lounging by one of the pools or getting ready for some fancy gala with those frilly little cakes and good wine.

But pools and galas meant skimpy bathing suits and revealing dresses; both options meant being leered at by those around you and being put down by—

Stop it.

You turn and rest your cheek on your arms, glancing behind you at the duffle bag lying on the floorboards.

It’s not ideal, where you’re at now, but it’s better than where you used to be. A small bump in the road is all this is. No one will follow you here, and you can deal with John Price and his intimidatingly handsome face for the few weeks it’ll take to get some cash under your belt so you can move on.

For now, you're safe, and that’s all you need.

taglist: @sleepyendymion, @blazedprince, @blueoorchid, @ohgodthebogisback, @melancholyy-hill, @wasteland-babe

[vukovich]

Peculiar Prompt: Harry and Ginny tell their kids that they’re getting divorced at Fortescue’s and Draco is thirsty AF. Include stickiness for extra points.

Cream Your Jeans

"Triple vanilla. Two scoops. Waffle cone."

A teenage boy in a pinstripe Fortescue's uniform smashes ice cream in a waffle cone and hands it to me, his eyes on the door. A strand of bells jangles discordantly as I ease myself onto a wobbly iron chair. My focus is all on the tower of creamy, frozen confection.

Two things people get wrong are: ice cream isn't dinner, and vanilla is boring. Vanilla requires subtlety and care to be good, but when given attention to detail, it's excellent. Rocky Road is a cheap thrill in an alley.

And ice cream is a perfectly acceptable dinner when one is going to spend the next four hours in a pick-up Quidditch game. It is also acceptable when one is turning 45 and avoiding celebrating the milestone. Milestones and millstones don't feel so different.

The amount of chatter picks up in the small parlor as I watch the edges of the scoops begin to melt. They aren't quite ready yet. Ice cream with this high a butterfat content needs to warm up just a bit more.

Several chairs scrape at a nearby table, then screech as their occupants scoot in.

The Potters. The whole lot of them.

James and Albus salute me with cones of strawberry and mint chip. I'm not sure if Scorpius turned Albus onto mint chip ice cream or the other way around, but Astoria was appalled when the two of them ate an entire quart of it out of her freezer in a single sitting.

I don't remember the girl's name, but she chose vanilla, so she's probably the smartest of the lot. Ginevra skipped ice cream in favor of clutching a manila folder to her chest. Potter has his back to me, but the bowl in his hand looks like it may have Rocky Road.

"So, kids, I don't-"

"I'm not a kid, mum," the girl announces. "I'm 20."

Ginevra rolls her eyes. "Fine. Beloved offspring, we have called you here today-"

"To destroy the family!" Albus says in a bad falsetto. James elbows him and initiates a short shoving contest.

"Boys," Harry says. His spoon is standing upright in his bowl, and the handle begins to tilt as it melts.

Soft, cool droplets run down my fingers, but stop on their own.

Albus picks up the falsetto again. "To officially disband the family!"

James snorts and joins in, clutching imaginary pearls. "The horror!"

Rivulets run down my wrist, but I'm riveted. There had been rumors, of course, in the gay wizard gossip chain. Whispers of a certain Auror's disinterest in the fairer sex, though I resent that description. I'm exceptionally fair.

Potter runs his left hand through his hair, down the back of his head, and clasps the back of his neck for a moment. No ring. Not even a tan line from a wedding ring. No wonder his boys are so blasé about it all. They must have been separated for years already.

Ice cream drips from the point of my cone onto the upper thigh of my jeans, but standing to fetch a napkin would draw too much attention.

"Right," Potter says, flattening what's definitely Rocky Road into a smooth puck inside his dish. "James, the deed to the old property at Godric's Hollow is in there, if you still-"

"Yes! I'm gonna dig a pond!"

"That's... great... Lil and Alb, the deed to Grimmauld is in there, too. Just play fair."

The girl, Lily, nods and nips at the edge of her cone. "Sure, Dad." She shoots James a playful sneer. "We're going to add expansion charms and an indoor pool. Enjoy your leeches."

"I will!" James yells.

Ginevra sets a pile of paperwork in the middle of the table, and a content smile crinkles the corners of her eyes as she turns to Harry. "You really do need a better Floo name for your flat."

"Never," Potter says. "Dadcave is cool."

The boys groan in unison. Ginevra flinches, and a buzzing ringtone comes from her pocket. She takes a moment to read her mobile screen.

"Shit. Guys, we're going to be late."

They all stand in a rustle of clothing and scraping of chairs.

Potter stuffs his hands in his pockets and bites at the inside of his lip. "Is it really alright that I'm not going?"

Ginevra watches their children file out the door and turns back to Potter. She tugs his jacket lapels smooth and smiles up at him. "Harry. You are single on a Friday night for the first time this millennium. Go cause some trouble."

She gently shakes him until he returns her smile. "Fine, fine. Hug your mum for me."

"Consider it done." She gives him a long hug and meets their children outside.

Ice cream runs down my bare forearm in a determined streak, and I snap out of my Potter-watching stupor. Bloody fucking hell, there's a puddle of melted ice cream in the crotch of my jeans, and my left hand is utterly covered.

Potter watches his family through the window as they walk away. He sighs and starts to turn toward me, so I do what any panicked sane man would do, and Vanish my ice cream cone. Two blobs of ice cream splat on my inner thighs and run between my legs to drip on the floor.

"Malfoy, do you still..." He trails off as his eyes rove over me.

I am a goddamn one-man ice cream bukkake scene. Obscene white streaks run down my arm. Thick droplets plop from my fingers onto my sodden jeans.

"...play Friday night... uhm... Quidditch?"

Licking my fingers clean would be a spectacle, so I rub them together, but the tacky-slick rubbing sound is identical to pre-cum slick foreskin.

I drop my hands over my lap, but the pose feels incriminating. Potter swallows audibly and steps closer.

"I do. Seven o'clock at the Brockwell pitch. You'd need a black shirt and a white shirt." He blinks at me for a moment. "For team designation."

He bites at a thumbnail and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "You look fucking good in white."

He must have delicious thumbnails, because he works at it for a good while before he speaks again.

"Have you, uhm... had dinner?"

I lick my teeth and realize I never took a single bite of that ice cream cone. "No, I suppose I haven't."

"I know a good Thai place near there." He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. "My treat? For your birthday?"

It takes me a second for the offer to register, and a nervous, giddy thrill flutters in my chest and settles as a warm ache in my groin.

"I accept. And dessert after the match? For your... milestone?"

Harry grins and tosses his melted cup of Rocky Road in the bin next the door as we leave.

"You're on."

[master-thief-gray-shadow]

Night Run

Summary: Umi was willing to go to great lengths to make Nico happy, even if the price was somewhat high.

Notes: So because the Love Live Big Bang 2018 probably isn’t going to happen, I’m just going ahead and posting my fic. My partner, @bub-draws, should have some art for this sometime soon, so keep an eye out for that.

Supposedly, in one’s dying moments, one’s life would flash before their eyes. A dying person would have a chance to reflect on the life they lived before leaving it, to evaluate the choices they made before their immortal soul is plucked and hauled off for judgement. As her knees gave out from under her Umi was coming to realize just how true this was. The bitter cold had long since rendered her numb, and the way she was clutching the equally frigid package to her chest was not helping in the slightest. The world was shrouded in icy mist, she could barely see three feet in front of her in the snow, and all this only served as a grim reminder of her impending doom. Her impending failure. She could not fail this mission. She could not. Weakly she attempted to pick herself up, but it was to no avail. As she knelt in the howling wind and snow, a single thought broke through her consciousness. I’m sorry...Nico, I’m sorry…

RED ALERT: BLIZZARD WARNING, read the banner that flashed across the TV, interrupting whatever soap opera drama had been occurring. Umi, though, had been paying little attention. She glanced up upon hearing the emergency broadcast noise blare loudly, before shrugging and going right back to her book. It was 10 at night, it wasn’t like she was going outside anytime soon. Her plans for the evening were cuddling with her wife and nothing else, which she would get right onto once said wife returned from the kitchen. Umi had just gotten reabsorbed into her book again, back into a passage about rations in early polar expeditions, when she was pulled right back out of it by a cry of despair. A cry of despair that came from the kitchen.

Umi nearly threw the book as she leapt up from the warmth of the kotatsu and ran towards the kitchen. It was adjacent to the living room so perhaps it wasn’t a huge trip or anything, but she had no time to spare. Umi gasped as she was greeted by the sight of her wife, sprawled out on the kitchen floor, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Nico! Nico, are you alright?” Umi rushed over, a hand quickly moving to Nico’s protruding stomach, massaging gently. “Is...is the baby alright?”

Nico sniffled a little before looking up at Umi. “The baby’s okay,” She said through tears. As if on cue, Umi felt a small movement against her hand. A kick. Umi sighed in relief. “But I’m not.”

Umi’s concern returned as quickly as it had vanished. “Why, what’s wrong? Please, Nico, you’re scaring me.”

Nico hiccupped before reaching a hand up and pointing. Umi followed Nico’s finger to find...an empty ice cream carton? Jeez, rooting around for ice cream on a freezing cold night like this...Umi sighed. One would think Nico would be preoccupied with keeping warm, but pregnancy seemed to have a funny way of overriding common sense. “Are we out of Strawberry Supreme again?”

Nico nodded, her own hand now resting on her stomach. “She needs it Umi. She won’t let me sleep if she doesn’t get it.”

Umi glanced up at the window. The snow was falling quite heavily now, being outside was probably not ideal. But the convenience store was only at the end of the block...hm, an ice cream run couldn’t take more than ten minutes, maybe fifteen, tops. But a storm could brew in as little as five… Umi looked back down at Nico, who was now gazing up at her with big, watery eyes. Oh gods. Umi’s lip began to tremble as she glanced between the window and Nico, and soon she felt her love for her wife overtaking whatever self preservation instincts she had left. Umi sighed in defeat before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on Nico’s lips. Nico kissed back just as gently.

“Alright. I’ll get you that ice cream,” She said as she broke the kiss. “But you have to promise me you’ll get off the floor and get nice and comfortable under the kotatsu, okay?”

Nico smiled up at her. “Mmmm...I guess I could do that.” Nico reached up and pulled Umi down for another kiss, this one a little more passionate. Before things could get too heated Umi pulled away, called by a sense of duty. She grabbed Nico below her shoulders, helping her to her feet. It turned out it was a little difficult to pick oneself off the floor when pregnant, especially considering how Nico’s small frame was so strained by the baby growing inside her. When they were finally both upright Nico turned around to place one final kiss on Umi’s lips. “Don’t take too long,” She said as Umi went to grab her coat.

“I won’t, don’t worry,” Umi said reassuringly, wrapping her scarf around her neck. She placed her hat on her head as she opened the front door ever so slightly. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

Oh for heaven’s sake, it was utterly freezing. Umi’s teeth chattered as she wrapped her arms around herself in a desperate attempt to preserve some warmth. At least the wind was blowing against her back and not her face, especially since the snow seemed to be getting heavier. Umi gave a long exhale, her breath turning white and curling around her head like smoke as she plodded forward. She could just barely see the sign hanging down from the front of the convenience store, and she zeroed in on it.

Crunch. Crunch. The sound the snow made beneath her boots was crisp as she finally approached the store. At last, at last she was free from the howling wind and blood-freezing cold. Umi heaved the door open, the bell attached to it tinkling. The middle-aged clerk did not look up from his magazine as Umi closed the door behind her, but it was clear he didn’t need to.

“Wife needs ice cream again?” He said, nose still buried in the magazine. Something about modified cars.

“Do I really do this that often?” Umi said as she made her way to the freezer. She scanned the shelves for the thing she came all the way here in increasingly heavy snow for. All for Nico. Umi smiled a little. The things she went through for her wife…

“Yeah, but even on a night like tonight?”

“The baby was kicking, she said she might not be able to sleep.” Triple Moose Tracks, Lemon Sunshine…Umi scanned each flavor as she searched the freezer shelves, finally letting out a small ‘ah!’ upon finding it. Strawberry Supreme. Umi had tried it once out of curiosity and found it to be nauseatingly sweet, but Nico always seemed to be inhaling the stuff even before she was pregnant. She opened the freezer and grabbed the carton before walking over to pay for it.

The clerk chuckled as he finally looked up from his magazine. “That’s dedication,” He said as he rung her up. “You’re even dedicated enough to go home in that.”

“I’m not worried, the trip here was…” Umi’s words died in her throat as she looked toward the window. If what she walked her in had been wading a mile in waist-high water, this was going to be swimming a mile in the open ocean. “...nothing.” Outside was a full-force blizzard, plastering snow against the windows, massive sized flakes swirling violently in the unruly wind. Umi approached the window, leaning in and placing a hand above her eyes to allow herself to look outward. Barely anything could be seen in the night, the snow and darkness rendering no visibility at all. The only things that could be seen was the fuzzy glow of a few odd streetlamps, their light the only thing interrupting the darkness.

“Are you gonna be okay?” The clerk seemed genuinely concerned. Umi walked back over to the counter, quickly paying before grabbing the ice cream.

“I have to be,” She said. “I need to get home.

Umi did not regret leaving the warmth and comfort of her home all for Nico’s sake. Even as the wind howled and the snow stung and her extremities grew increasingly numb. All that did was embolden her conviction, remind her that she had to get home. She had to. Nico was waiting for her. She had to. Against the icy wind she walked, even as the snow piled on the sidewalk and impeded her progress. The parts of her legs that weren’t frozen solid were screaming, and her grip on the ice cream was doing little to help her stave off the cold. In fact it was probably doing the opposite. And yet she pushed forward.

Umi lifted an arm to shield her face from the stinging wind. What horrible timing. Perhaps if she’d hurried on her way to the store she would have been able to get home without facing the full fury of the storm. Maybe by now she would be holding Nico in her arms and feeding her the ice cream straight from the carton, wrapped in a warm blanket under the kotatsu. Umi scowled. It was too late for regrets now, and all she could do was move forward. Problem was, it was difficult to measure how much more forward she would need to move. She glanced behind her to see that the lights from the convenience store were only barely visible in the storm. Difficult to measure how far she’d gone, too.

Umi forged ahead. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Umi’s breath came out in great white puffs, her chest heaving with the effort. Her fingers, her toes, the parts of her face that she had bared to the cold, they were numb. Umi blinked once, feeling a sense of fatigue overcome her. She wanted to be home. She wanted to be with Nico, and she was getting there, but she was running out of strength. Her vision was growing blurry, and perhaps this time it wasn’t because the snow was obscuring it. Could she make it back? Or was she a walking corpse on a doomed quest? She plodded forward slowly on shaky legs, hoping and praying that they would stay steady. But as the cold surrounded her, even they gave way.

Umi found herself on her knees, wondering if she was going to die, and her only thoughts were on her wife. Her wife, who was carrying her child, who she had gone out on this whole crazy mission for. Who needed that ice cream to sleep soundly. Umi shivered as she knelt in the snow. I’m sorry...Nico, I’m sorry…

Wait. Umi squinted, as if to keep her vision from tricking her. Was that something in front of her? Drawing on what little strength she had left, Umi hoisted herself to her feet. She took a few shaky steps forward, ignoring the ache and numbness that now seemed to permeate her entire body. Slowly but surely she approached. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was seeing.

A stairwell. The stairwell to her apartment building. She was home.

Umi’s strength seemed to renew itself as she began to climb the stairs, and the slight shelter from the harshness of the storm certainly helped. Even as she was borderline out of breath she climbed, she climbed and climbed, until finally, she reached the right floor. The final stretch. She only had to brave this storm a little longer before she would see Nico again. With purpose she strode across the balcony and finally, finally reached the door. Nico was just on the other side.

With a still somewhat numb hand she fumbled around for her key. She was shaking so much that it took a few tries for her to get it into the lock, but she managed to do it. There was no bitter cold as she closed the door behind her. It was only slightly cool. But she was fine with that. It was better than being outside. She could hear the TV playing quietly. Seemed that soap opera was still on. Umi smiled. “Nico, I’m home.”

There was no answer. Umi shrugged before beginning to shed her layers, her hat, her scarf, her coat. She felt a slight chill as they came off but she knew it wouldn’t last long. She’d be warm soon. After finally removing her snowy shoes she tiptoed down the hall, the ice cream still in her arms. The sight that greeted her drew out a small sigh.

It seemed that at some point Nico had indeed made herself very comfortable, having wrapped herself in a blanket and crawled under the kotatsu. Perhaps she had made herself too comfy, because now she seemed to be sleeping very peacefully. Umi sighed again and shook her head.

“At least you kept your end of the deal,” She said to herself as she went to put the ice cream away. The moment her hands were empty she made her way back to the den, crawling first under the blanket and then under the kotatsu, pressing herself close to Nico. Umi gazed down at Nico’s sleeping face, noting the soft noises she would make with every exhale, the little puddle forming under her mouth. Umi smiled as she cuddled up to her wife, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. She swore she saw Nico smile in her sleep in response.

“I love you so much,” Umi said softly, before finally giving into her own exhaustion.

[gunawan-go]

on sale 𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗔 𝗞𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗕𝗢𝗞𝗔𝗡 It is located in a safe, comfortable neighborhood which is ONLY 8 minutes walk (600 meters) from Lio Square, 8 minutes drive from Lollypop Preschool and 4 minutes to Sunrise School, also 4 minutes to Bali Kiddy School. 𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙮 Land size 204 m² Generous single level building under one roof Fully renovated in 2016 Wide paved access 6 meters Facing to the South Freehold + building permit 𝙁𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨 - Secure - modern - easy care - quality construction - 5,500 Kw electric connection, indovision, indihome & remote CCTV - 60 meters bore with filtration and automated pressure system - 3,7 x 2,4 Easy care plunge pool with inbuilt seating - Generous tiled garage and motorbike parking - 3 Aircons, 2 remote ceiling fans & 4 exhaust fans - 6,5 meters low maintenance aluminum french doors to living/ outdoor - 6,5 x 3,5 meters outdoor entertaining with outdoor kitchen (stainless steel sink) granite bench top, 6 burner built-in BBQ and 2 doors drink fridge/ freezer 𝙇𝙖𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙩 - 2 main bedroom (approx 4x4) with en-suite bathroom plus additional bedroom/ office/ staff room 2,4x2,4 with bathroom - Generous open plan living area 8,5 x 5,5 meters - Magnificient western kitchen with black granite tops, walk-in pantry, 5 burner stainless steel stove with full width oven, stainless rangehood, double sink, two door upright modena fridge/ freezer 𝙌𝙪𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 Over-engineered throughout, double concrete floors, heavy duty steel roof (no termites), Triple insulation, quality electrical and plumbing installation, even imported Italian rollers on the custom lightweight steel front gate This villa is for sale fully furnished, except personal belongings such as dressing table + mirror, projector with sound system Rp. 3.700.000.000 #investasi #investasiproperti #balilife #ilovebali #baliproperty #propertybali #propertibali #balibeaches #pantaibali #balipropertyforsale #kerobokan #kerobokankelod #kerobokanbali #villaforsalekerobokan #villadijualkerobokan #houseforsalekerobokan #rumahdijualkerobokan # (at Bapak Bakery) https://www.instagram.com/p/CmLVssEP7PB/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[gripefroot]

Midnight in the City

The mission could not have gone worse.

At least, that’s the presumption you make, taking in the sight of the bodies sprawled around the Avengers Tower common room. They must have arrived sometime in the last half hour or so; you’d only been gone downstairs for less than an hour, filing some reports in a public tech room.

You hadn’t gone on this mission. Should’ve.  

Quirking a brow, you take a slug out of a bottle as one of the figures on the couch groans. 

“Come on, Wilson,” you say lightly. “I’ve seen recruits take defeat better.” 

Sam lifts an arm and a finger, as if to reply with some witticism, but he only groans again and his arm flops back down. 

Huh. That bad.  

Wandering into the kitchen, you open the freezer and grab several ice packs, and when those run out, bags of frozen vegetables. Back into the common room, and you plop some peas on the back of Sam’s head. His response is muffled by the pillow his face is buried in, but you guess it’s gratitude. At least, it had better be. Casting your eyes over his limp body, you lay an ice pack on a bruised elbow, and on a swelling ankle where his dirty and torn pants have ridden up.  

Natasha is draped over a reclining chair. She, at least, mumbles out where she’s sore when you approach. Left hand, right eye. A bright bruise is blossoming across her pale skin, and she winces as the cold hits her eye.  

“Thanks,” she mutters.  

Clint hadn’t made it further than the floor, lying face up. You examine him for a moment, and then drop some corn on his ribs and peas on his bleeding nose. It looks broken. Again. 

“You’d better stop bleeding before you stain Tony’s floor,” you tell him.  

Clint’s lips move, but no sounds comes out. His eyes are squeezed shut, as he tenderly lifts a hand to adjust the peas on his nose. His bow and arrows are scattered on the floor beside him; evidently he’d been too beat to even lay them nicely on the coffee table, which Stark insists on. Good thing Stark isn’t there.  

Last of all is Bucky, legs hanging off the loveseat as he clutches at his belly, eyes screwed shut. There’s blood on his lips, dried beneath his nose, and his knuckles are bruised. You bite your lip, tenderly pressing a hand to his jaw as he moans pitifully. It would be ideal to give Bucky a better examination, but… 

It’s a secret. The clandestine relationship. That you’ve seen him naked, that sort of thing. 

“Hey,” you say softly as he stirs. “Where’re you hurting, Sarge?” 

Eyes still closed, Bucky touches his mouth, his forehead, his stomach, his groin. There go the last couple ice packs and a bag of frozen corn. He hisses as the cold hits his face, finally peeking open a bright blue eye to glare at you. 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” he asks. Crotchety enough to be his age. You smile.  

“Yes,” you say plainly.  

Bucky grumbles. 

“Thanks, 28,” Natasha says weakly from across the room. “You should’ve been there. But then again, maybe you’d be just as busted up as we are, with no nursing attendant.” 

“Nonsense,” you brush that away. “We could’ve called in Fury to apply bandages. He’s not busy tonight.” 

Clint groans from the floor, his voice nasally from the peas on his face. “I do not want Nick Fury as my nursing attendant,” he says. 

“Fury is a great nurse,” you sass back, curling your fingers around Bucky’s boldly, as everyone else is too absorbed in their own hurts. He squeezes back weakly as you add, “His bedside manner is especially fantastic.” 

“Only if he has cartoon band aids,” Sam mumbles.  

“I think he has collects Avengers packs, so yeah.” 

“Does your nursing extend to drinks?” Natasha asks, interrupting the banter. 

“Sure.” You stand from Bucky’s side, dropping his hand regretfully.  

When you return to the common room a few minutes later with several beers in hand, Natasha has managed to sit forward in the chair, though she’s holding her face in her hand. Sam is slouched upright over an armrest, and he even cracks a pained smile as you pass him a bottle. Which cracks his lips, and he winces.  

“Er, thanks,” he says.  

The image of the Avengers, so pathetic after a bad mission is a little disheartening - they’re your teammates, after all - but a bit amusing, too. Natasha accepts a drink without looking up, and you place a cold bottle by Clint’s head. Blindly he grabs for it, holding it to his cheek as he tries to roll over to sit up.  

Biting your lip to keep from laughing outright, you hand the last beer to Bucky, who groans as he gently swings his legs over to sit up. To keep from being obvious - you retreat to sit on the floor in front of Sam’s couch. At least you can watch Bucky from there. Restlessly you tap your fingers on your knee, suppressing the urge to run them through the tangles in Bucky’s hair.  

Secret. Secret.  

“What’s going on here?” The exhausted silence is broken as Stark walks into the room, distracted by the device in his hand until he looks up to take in the scene. Natasha is the first to answer. 

“Bad intel,” she says, lifting her head to look at Tony. “There were triple the guards we expected. Barely made it out. Extraction failed.” 

Tony presses his lips together. “Okay. We’ll...do better next time.” 

There’s no response. Nat dips her head back down again, and Sam places his empty bottle on the coffee table.  

“You should go to medical, Barton,” Tony says after a moment. “Your nose looks nasty.” 

“Yeah. Okay. I’m going.” Clint tries to push himself to his feet, but sinks back down to the floor. Stark steps forward, and so you do - each holding an arm to help him up. Clint teeters slightly before finding his footing. His face is drained of color. 

“Concussion?” you suggest to Tony. 

“Probably. I’ll take him down.” 

“I’ll stay here,” you say, glancing at Bucky’s slumped form out of the corner of your eye. “Keep the drinks filled. Make sure no one bleeds out. That sort of thing.” 

“If any blood gets on the couches - ” Stark starts to say. 

“I know, we’ll all be indicted.”  

“Out of your paychecks. Every one of you.” With that threat coupled with a severe stare around the nonresponsive room, Tony heaves Clint back towards the elevator.  

“I’m gonna go,” Bucky rumbles, standing with a wince. He drops his ice packs on the table.  

“Where?” you ask, unable to stop yourself. 

“Anywhere.” 

“You should stay and rest,” Natasha says. Privately you agree, but say nothing. 

“I’m going.” Without looking your way, Bucky walks stiffly towards the door, grabbing his jacket which had been slung on the back of the love seat. Several guns are left behind. Pursing your lips, you gather up his weapons to take back to the tactical room underground. The elevator dings. He’s gone. You have to wait for the next one.  

This is unlike Bucky.  

When you return to the common room, Natasha and Sam are talking quietly amongst themselves. They’re less limp than before, so you write them off as just fine. You pick up your coat from where you’d left it in the kitchen, pulling it over your shoulders and tying your scarf tight around your neck.  

“Tell Stark I went home,” you say to Nat, tugging on a thick wool hat.  

“‘Kay. Will you be back tomorrow?”

“For the debriefing of this?” you ask, quirking a brow. “Wouldn’t miss it.” 

“Why do I feel like it’s going to turn into a slag-fest?” Sam grins. 

“Because you’re learning from experience,” you tease back. “See you later.” 

“Have a good night, 28.” 

“‘Bye, Agent.” 

The Tower is quiet. It’s after hours, and nearly everyone is gone. Stepping out of the empty elevator, your eyes flit over the empty front desk, the closed ground-floor coffee shop. Dark, and quiet. The clock above the front doors of the Tower read 11:12 p.m. 

Shivering as JARVIS gives a polite farewell, you tense as the chill night air strikes your cheeks. You set off at a brisk pace towards the subway, shoving your hands in your pocket to ward against the cold.  

Really, you should’ve insisted on going on this mission. Even if it had still failed. Feeling so useless when the team had suffered so much is not pleasant.  

Your thoughts stray to Bucky; the haunted look that had shadowed his eyes, his abrupt departure. He usually isn’t one to leave on his own when you’re around. You might have expected that he would whisper in your ear to beg you to stay at the Tower that night… 

A smile begins to curl your lips. At the end of the block, you see a dark figure standing outside a convenience store. Hands in pockets, just like yours, and one foot propped against the wall behind him. His head tilts towards you as you approach. The bruise curling around his nose has deepened to a brilliant and unsettling purple, dotted with green and black. 

“Hey there, stranger,” you say, when you’re near enough. “Need a place to sleep tonight?” 

Bucky lifts his head, a little grin tugging at his lips. His shoulders are less tense now, though there is still darkness in his eyes as they settle on your face with fierce warmth.  

“You offering, ma’am?” 

“Thinking about it,” you tease. 

“Don’t care where I sleep,” he says back, his voice low. “Long as it’s with you.” 

“How sweet.” You offer one of your mittened hands to him, but when Bucky takes it he winds it through his elbow, falling into lazy steps beside you down the sidewalk. It’s empty, since it’s getting near midnight. The few people braving the winter night are bundled and walking fast. Taking a deep breath, you tilt your head towards the dark sky.  

“That bad?” you ask, keeping your tone light. 

“Worse.” Bucky’s eyes are on the ground again. There’s a tick in his jaw, and after a moment he pries his lips apart to say, “There were kids.” 

A knot forms in your stomach, and instinctively your fingers clench on his arm. 

“I...remembered,” he says slowly after a moment. “I remember in Siberia. In Petrograd. I remember there were always kids. And then...” Bucky’s voice cracks. You lean your head against his shoulder, keeping pace as he takes a shuddering breath.  

“We can go back,” you tell him softly. “Stark’s already planning on another extraction. We’ll make sure the entire team is there - I’ll be there. We’ll get those kids out.” 

He’s silent for a moment, and in tandem you take the steps down to the brightly-lit train station. The cold fresh air is replaced by the warmer, though stale scent of underground. There are only a few other people around, and finding a lonely place to stand out of earshot, Bucky wraps his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.  

“I love you,” he murmurs. “You know that, right?” 

You grin, lifting your gaze to examine his expression. Still haunted. “Well, I am offering you a place for the night, aren’t I?” you tease. “Don’t pretend I’m not buying your love.”

Bucky chortles. Some of the shadows disappear from his face.  

The whoosh of the train arrival brings the acrid scent of fuel and metal. In tandem you and Bucky step onto the train, and have no trouble locating seats. It’s mostly empty; only a group of young girls at the other end of the car break the silence. Idly you twist your fingers in Bucky’s as the train rumbles on.  

“Hey, um . . . are you the uh, Winter Soldier?” 

You glance up. The girls, college-age by the looks of it, have crept across the car, eager smiles on their faces. Bucky stares blankly back for a moment as you suppress a laugh, and he stutters, 

“Er, yeah.” 

A squeal from one of the girls, hiding her mouth behind her hand.  

“Can we get a selfie with you?” the first girl asks. Evidently she’s not put off by the cuts and bruises on Bucky’s face. You have to give her credit for that. 

“Um, sure.” 

“I’ll take it,” you volunteer, as the first girl pulls a phone out of her pocket. She bats her eyes at you.  

“Thanks.” 

Four girls. They all crowd around Bucky, huddling close to his bruised face. He blinks quickly, startled into looking at you as you hold up the phone. His lips form an urgent plea, Help me. 

You grin. “Say cheese.” 

“Cheeeeeeeese,” in tandem.  

Bucky’s breath of relief as the girls retreat, a chorus of thanks. You snicker a little as you wave them goodbye, returning to their side of the train car, taking your seat beside Bucky again.  

“You didn’t have to abandon me like that,” he mutters, taking your hand again.  

“I was just trying to be nice,” you say with a little laugh.  

“And to not get your picture taken and spread across the internet, right?” Slanting his gaze towards you, Bucky lifts a brow.  

“Oh, please,” you brush this away. “The SHIELD algorithm program that protects my identity works on any digital picture with my face. I could’ve been in the picture just fine - but I’d be erased out of it already.” 

“That’s depressing,” Bucky says, after a moment of thought. “So...there aren’t any pictures of you. Like, with your family.” 

“Well, childhood pictures,” you point out. “And it’s just a sacrifice for the job I chose. Most people have to give up something.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“And I get to enjoy so many perks.” With a wink you nudge Bucky’s arm, and he smiles as he obligingly sling it over your shoulder, tugging you close.  

“You talking ‘bout me, babe?” Bucky’s husky voice says into your ear. 

“Mmm. I bet you’d like that, huh?”  

He nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear, and goosebumps break out in heady streaks across your skin. “Mmhmm,” his voice vibrates. Your fingers tighten on his, and Bucky shifts awkwardly in his seat.  

Back on the city sidewalks, the neighborhood where you live is much quieter than around Avengers Tower. The street lights flicker, and only a few cars can be heard a few streets over.  

“Well,” you say lightly, turning to Bucky with a smile. “At least this time you won’t have to climb through the window.” 

This earns you a laugh - a real, belly laugh, and as you punch in the code for your building Bucky sinks into chortles, shaking his head. 

“Are there security cams around here?” he asks. “Stark’s probably watching them, if you live here.” 

“There sure are, and he sure does monitor them,” you say. “Or at least, a peon at SHIELD does. Remember? I don’t show up in security cams. They’re not looking for me - they’re looking for threats.” 

“And the Winter Soldier?” 

You grin down at him, hopping up the stairs as he trails behind. “Well, he’s just a big ol’ softie, posing for selfies with starry-eyed girls. I ain’t in danger from that.” 

Bucky’s eyes darken as he passes in the shadows of the stairwell. The smile that curls his lips is best described as - feral. Wild. Promising - in one way or another. “You sure about that?” he purrs, his voice low and sending little tremors through your limbs as you arrive at the door to your apartment.  

“Well,” you say in a murmur. Bucky stands very close as you unlock the door. “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself against some big, bad, scary soldier man.” 

The spell is broken. Bucky’s laugh echoes in the hallway, and quickly you usher him inside. Once on the doormat, however, as you deadbolt the door behind him, he looks distinctly awkward - hands in his pockets, and looking around as if unsure.  

“This is my front door,” you say dramatically, waving your hand in demonstration. “This is how normal people enter someone’s home.” 

“Ha, ha,” Bucky says, but he cracks a grin.  

“Do you need the rest of the tour?” you tease, shrugging off your coat to hang up.  

“Maybe just the shower. I think I stink.” 

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything…” 

Bucky glares, and you laugh. “Need any help cleaning up, soldier?” you ask, batting your eyes in imitation of the girls on the train. He rolls his eyes in return.  

“No. I think I know how to shower. We used to bathe back in the 30s and 40s, you know. Weren’t always savages.” 

“Just sometimes.” 

“Just sometimes,” he repeats. And smiles, as you take his coat for him.  

“Well, you know where everything is,” you say, tugging off your boots next. “You’ve made my home yours. Go freshen up, then we’ll talk.” 

“About what?” 

“Anything you want.” 

Bucky tilts his brows suggestively, but you merely smile and wander off towards your bedroom as he makes for the bathroom. A few minutes later, and you can hear the shudder of pipes and rush of water. Should you have insisted on staying with him? In this mood? Maybe. But he seems to be doing better so far, so you shed your clothes for the day as the clock ticks towards midnight. Setting your thigh holster on the dresser, you yawn and listen idly to the water.  

He doesn’t take long. Only a few minutes later the water stops, and you hear Bucky’s plaintive voice through the door, 

“Um - can I have a towel?” 

Chuckling to yourself, you poke your head (and an arm) into the steamy bathroom to fetch one from the cupboard. “Here,” you say, grinning at the wet, dark hair plastered to Bucky’s woeful face as he peeks out from behind the curtain.  

“Thanks.” 

“You’re very modest tonight, aren’t you?” you tease. 

“I’m not in top form,” Bucky deadpans. “Now shoo so I can dry myself.”

Keeping your eyes locked on his, you pretend to sidle out of the room, but pause, looking him up and down as he glares, bumping into the curtain as he tries to dry his limbs. You bite your lip to hide a smirk, and shut the door behind you.  

When Bucky at last emerges, he has deigned to wrap the towel firmly around his waist, but is otherwise bare. Reclining casually in bed and pretending to read a book, you peek up, thoroughly admiring the crystal droplets of water left on his naked chest. Then your eyes descend to the purple and black bruised ribs above his stomach.  

“You need those wrapped?” you ask, swinging your legs over the bed and abandoning your book. “I have a med kit here.” 

“They’re fine,” Bucky shrugs as he runs his fingers through his damp hair. “They’ll be healed by morning.” 

“Optimistic of you.” 

“I prefer to think of it as experienced.” 

You quirk a brow, both admiring and recognizing the glint in Bucky’s eyes as he saunters towards you. Hooking a finger into the waistband of the towel, you lift your gaze to his, smiling.  

“Well. You’re probably experienced enough to know that rigorous activity in this state will only delay healing. Too bad.” 

Bucky’s brows pinch together in clear exasperation. “Really, babe? All that teasing and now you’re afraid of hurting me?” 

“I’m always a little afraid of hurting you,” you sass back. “You may not look a hundred years old, but...” 

He gives a huff of laughter, nudging his knees between yours. “Oh, that’s how it is?”  

“That’s how it is.” The words are barely a breath, as Bucky leans over with glittering eyes and a hard expression, his lips hovering above yours for a tantalizing moment. His fists press into the bedspread on either side of you, and you smirk. “How much pain are you in?” you ask softly.  

“Not enough.” 

“Good.” 

With a tug, the towel falls to the floor.  

There’s no more teasing. Bucky’s lips crash into yours with a groan, and you feel his arms flex under your hands as you try to keep yourself from falling over entirely. Breathlessly you pull away.  

“You lie down,” you say, scooting over. “I won’t be worsening your wounds tonight, Buck.”

“Okay.” The severity of his discomfort is shown in his dogged obedience, crawling over and collapsing on his back, his head buried in the pillow as he squeezes his eyes shut. But obviously Bucky isn’t too uncomfortable. Your eyes rake up and down his body, and you smile to yourself. Throwing a leg over his hips, you brace yourself as you lean down to nuzzle his ear, breathing in deep the scent of your soap clinging to his musky skin.  

“Where does it hurt?” you purr.  

“Ugh - everywhere.” 

“Then I’d better get started.” 

Taking only a moment to press a tender kiss to his lips, you sidle downwards to kiss next the molted skin of his belly and ribs. Every inch that’s swollen, every inch that’s discolored. Bucky sucks in a breath as you nibble gently back upwards to his throat.  

“Better yet?” you ask, paying special attention to the bruises around his eye and nose.  

“Er, yeah. A bit.” His voice is strained.  

“Should I keep going?” 

“Uh...please.” 

Bucky is quivering. Whether it’s pain or something else, you study his face briefly to make sure there’s no hidden agony there - he seems alright - so you next stroke your fingers down his flesh arm. Lifting his hand to your face, you keep your eyes on Bucky’s as you kiss every scratch marring his skin. His breathing is a little ragged as he watches you with hooded eyes.  

“Better?” you whisper.  

“So much better.” 

You lay his hand on your thigh, his fingers immediately pressing into your flesh as you tug your shirt and bra over your head. Discarded. And your pants and underwear next. Bucky watches your awkward movements with a fond smile playing on his lips.  

“No dance for me?” he teases lightly.  

“Oh, you’re getting a dance.” You throw a leg back over his hips, grinning at the sight of his widening eyes. It only takes a little finagling and a sigh of contentment to feel him sheathed so fully within you, and Bucky throws his head back with a groan.  

“Good dance,” he manages to say, his voice hoarse. You laugh a little, but don’t stop - and more mumbling words fall from his lips as white hot pleasure begins to swirl lazily in your veins and coil in your belly. Bucky’s fingers dig into your hips, urging you on. The blazing light in his eyes as he watches your every movement - every roll of your hips, every stuttered breath, every little involuntary moan as the quivers of building euphoria streak through your trembling limbs. Bucky isn’t faring much more coherently - he licks his lips, biting back more groans. 

It doesn’t take much longer. 

With sweat beading on your bare back, with Bucky’s huffing breath breaking the silence of the room, you let your eyes stay closed for a moment. It’s not often that you have the chance to savor making love with him. You’ll take what you can get.  

Eventually you feel the gentle pads of Bucky’s fingers tracing up your arms - goosebumps break out beneath the cold metal ones, but you don’t mind. With a sigh you climb off of him as he winces, and collapse at his side, snuggling in close.  

“You didn’t exert yourself, did you?” you murmur, burying your nose into his flesh shoulder to savor his scent. Bucky chortles. 

“You did all the work there, babe. I kept perfectly still.” 

“Good. I’d hate to explain to Tony or Steve why you didn’t heal overnight like you said you would.” 

He laughs again, curling his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. With his metal hand, he reaches down to tug the bedspread up to cover both of you, and you sigh again.  

“Do you need to go back?” you ask after a moment, a coil of dread twisting your stomach. In Bucky’s embrace - in a warm bed after a long day - it’s hard to be the conscience. Propping your chin up on his shoulder, you study his expression as he frowns at the ceiling.  

“No. I don’t think they’ll notice I’m gone.” 

“Hmm. Well, Steve’s supposed to be back in the morning from his mission. I don’t think you’ll be able to slip past him.” 

“Sure I will.” Bucky tilts his head, grinning at you that charming smile that makes you feel cozy and warm all over. “Believe it or not, I’m an adult and I’m allowed to sleep away from my residence if I so choose.” 

“Uh huh. So what will you tell Steve?” 

“That I spent the night riding the train and feeling depressed.” The joke only lasts a split-second - Bucky starts to chuckle, and spluttering giggles burst from your lips.  

“The worst thing is, he’ll probably believe it,” you tease. 

“Yep. Now, are you going to turn off the light, or are you going to make the man with dislocated ribs and a black eye get up out of his comfortable position to - ” 

You groan, interrupting his spiel. “Oh, please. You’re going to milk this for all it’s worth, aren’t you?” 

“Yep.” Bucky’s smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and you roll yours fondly in return. But all the same, you quickly kick back the covers, run (still naked) over to the light switch, and flick it off. Rushing back through the sudden darkness to the warmth of the bed, you snuggle in close to Bucky, placing your cold toes on his feet. He groans, squirming away as far as his injury will allow.  

“Payback?”

“You know it.” 

But he’s not bitter. Idly his fingers tangle in your hair as you close your eyes with a yawn. The scritch-scratch against your scalp puts you in a trance, and the distant sound of traffic below fades faraway. Here, there’s only Bucky.

~

“Hey, you ready to go?” 

Bucky glances up from lacing his shoes towards Sam, hovering in the doorway to his bedroom looking more than ready for the charity half-marathon Stark had signed the Avengers up for. The prospect is...alright, really. No real complaints. Except that it’s six a.m. 

“I’m ready,” Bucky says, and stands, rolling back his shoulders to ease out the stiffness of sleeping.  

“What’s this?” Sam has been distracted, and he takes a step into the room to pick up a new picture frame that sits on the bedside table. Sam stares at it for a moment, then looks back up at Bucky, his brows twisted in bafflement. “You keep a picture of yourself on your nightstand?” he asks.  

Bucky shrugs. “Don’t you?” 

“Nah, man.” Sam sets the frame back down, shaking his head. “Let’s go.” 

“After you, Wilson.” 

Sam’s back turns as he heads towards the door, and Bucky smiles a little to himself as he takes a clandestine peek at the picture. Himself, of course, with his arm slung over an empty upholstered seat to his side, grinning broadly at the camera.  

“See you at the race,” he murmurs to himself, and follows Sam out. 

[chillingwine]

American Fridge Freezers and Why Buying it Can Be Very Beneficial for You!

In every household, there is at least one refrigerator where all types of food contents are stored in at a low temperature as it prevents the food from getting oxidized. But not every refrigerator has a freezer in it, this results in people having to buy another piece of machinery that takes too much space.

A good way to avoid this is buying an American Fridge Freezer. As it says by the name, it is built to contain both fridge and freezer. You can easily buy such machineries from the American fridge freezer sale due to the fact that they are used in both domestic and commercial sector. 

These fridge/freezers are manufactured to have enough storage capacity that an average customer needs.

However, there are 2 different types of American fridge freezers.

1)    Upright Freezers

2)    Chest Freezers

Most of the food contents are stored in upright freezers except the ones that are big and do not fit well. These upright freezers are usually less energy efficient due to their door placements.

There are many different models to choose from, most of them come with double or triple doors and operate at 0 degrees Fahrenheit. This helps in keeping the food items frozen and fresh. In addition, a fast freeze option is also available that cools food item quickly with a cooling system. Many of these fridge freezers also have built in wine cooler with electronic control that allows you to maintain temperature throughout the fridge.

If you are also looking for an American fridge freezer, make sure you visit the site www.chillingwine.co.uk

[simcogroupau]

WHAT KIND OF REFRIGERATION IS NEEDED IN YOUR RESTAURANT?

Let’s cut the crap and shoot straight for the moon… The restaurant business is one of the most lucrative businesses out there. All you need to do is get a whole bunch of equipment together coupled with your chef skills and engage in the business of serving food, snacks, and drinks to customers. Easy to start if you already have the necessary knowledge.

However, having all the necessary equipment ready might pose a challenge as you seek to start your business. Although there are other things to consider when starting a restaurant business, apart from the necessary equipment’s; such as a nice location, furniture set, a perfect menu, a license, etc., your equipment, especially your cooling system plays a pivotal role – more reason you need a commercial fridge, in the success of your business.

Commercial refrigeration is essential when penning down your restaurant's needs since you will be dealing with foods. You should be asking yourself where or how will you preserve your foods or keep your inventory? Getting a high quality and suitable commercial refrigeration for your restaurant is therefore essential.

The kind of food each restaurant sells varies from one another; so you need to know the best commercial refrigeration that will help in keeping your restaurant business alive. Before listing the type of commercial refrigeration equipment available for restaurants, let’s look into some factors that will help you choose a suitable fridge for your restaurant.

Ultimate Factors to Be Considered When Choosing Commercial Fridge Equipment for Your Restaurant.

Size

Getting your refrigerator without considering the size of your restaurant and the amount of food you will store inside can make things worse. You need to inspect your restaurant well, measure where you want to keep the commercial freezer, and know the kind of food you serve. This will help you to know the kind of freezer to purchase and go for larger storage than your present inventory will save you money in the future.

Your budget

You need to know your worth, don’t go for what you can’t maintain after purchasing it. If you can afford a display fridge, get it first, and utilize it well until you can afford a chest freezer or a walk-in freezer.

Easy to use

Go for a commercial freezer or refrigerator that is easy to use. Make sure that the electricity settings are friendly and easy to comprehend. Get a freezer or fridge that you can arrange your perishable products easily and get cabinets that have enough storage.

Regular refrigerator

Put off your mind from bringing your regular home refrigerator or freezer to your restaurant. Firstly, it has less storage space for your foods, not strong enough for commercial use, and could get your food spoiled because of its capacity.

The door

Consider a convenient place for your commercial refrigeration equipment for you to have easy access to your inventory. Your staff might need to attend to the customer urgently, getting a double door or glass door freezer might help in getting it fast.

The condenser unit

This is an important unit in the refrigerator that makes your stored inventory cold. Your refrigerator condenser unit might be mounted at the top or the bottom. However, for easy cleaning purposes, the refrigerators with bottom-mount condensers are easier to take care of. Likewise, you may still consider the top-mount condenser because of its coolness each time you open it. It does not release any hot air inside the refrigerator whenever it is opened.

The kind of condenser you want depends on you, the very one that best suits your restaurant. Either you want the top-mounted condenser in which you can keep the door open, and you will have fast or easier access to your stored items. Or the bottom-mounted condenser is convenient to clean and has easy maintenance operation.

Another factor is the commercial refrigeration supplier

Like every other equipment, you need to know the kind of supplier or brand you will get your commercial refrigeration equipment from.

All commercial refrigeration equipment manufacturers have their strengths and weaknesses. Either high in price or quality, going through their reviews or getting enough satisfactory information will help in identifying a good freezer.

Getting a commercial refrigerator with at least two to three years warranty will put your mind at ease. In case your commercial freezer or fridge breaks down, as long as the warranty still exists, they will take care of it. Most of these companies have well-certified technicians who will handle the repairs perfectly and on time for you. This will prevent your stored food from getting spoiled after the breakdown.

To know the kind of refrigeration needed in your restaurant, read through the following different types of commercial refrigeration equipment.

Commercial upright freezers and fridges: these kinds of freezers are available in different sizes of your choice. They are suitable for a small size restaurant because they take less space, unlike the chest freezers. You can store your fresh and perishable produce with ease, they are with good lockable doors, environmentally friendly and safe to use. The upright storage freezer switches off its evaporated fan anytime you open it, and it alerts you in case of any safety issues.

Commercial refrigeration drawer or the under-counter fridges: They are a kind of commercial refrigerators that are suitable for a restaurant that has enough space. Either you want the single door, double door, or triple door, the refrigeration drawer is available and gives you outstanding chilled storage conditions. Besides, it provides wide storage for cold products, like poultry, seafood, and meat that you might need at any time.

Walk-in refrigerator

This is one of the best commercial refrigeration systems there is. It has enough size to store and keep all of your inventory cold. It is customizable; you can have it in a larger size or smaller size depending on the amount of space available.

Reach-in refrigerator

This is the kind of chiller that you can also get for your restaurant. It works best when placed far away from the heat side. The reach-in has two or three doors depending on your choice. It is easy to arrange your stored food inside, and getting it for use is easy too, because you can see through it.

Chest freezer

This is also a useful refrigeration system good for commercial purpose, it stores and keeps your produce alive and chilled. It is well-recommended for keeping your food for long, and they will hardly lose taste. However, you have to consider the space you have in your restaurant because of its sizes.

Ice cream freezer

It is wide enough to keep your frozen inventory safe and in good condition. The ice cream freezer is strong and useful in a restaurant that provides a non-stop service.

Considering all the listed factors, which include measuring the size, budget, flexibility, etc. and the type of commercial refrigeration suitable for your restaurant. All these will make it easier for you to get a purposeful commercial refrigeration anywhere you are in Austrailia… From Sydney, Brisbane, or even to Melbourne.

[setoonaredpanda]

You have been planning this trip for months your first ever trip abroad. It been weeks of planning, you asked your boss 4 months in advance for the time off. Your boss ranking above you in numbers you feel like only you notice sometimes that tell you how important you are. Most people usually fall somewhere in a midrange of the population, actors, models, activists, politicians & major leader of the world usually have higher number in the hundreds range anything under double digits usually jumps from person to person from minute to minute no one or two people are high for long. You work at a large center for terminally ill patients. People who come are either dieing or are family of the dieing. They may be sick or suffering different organ failures, but one thing is sure if you've been transported here you likely aren't walking out. You are getting ready to clock out for your last shift before vacation starts and a family member of one of the patients jumps on the elevator with you their number is in the hundreds so you look at them a little more closely to see if you can recognize them. No they don't seem like someone you should recognize. You turn to say hello and they sneeze on you, right as you open your mouth. Yuck, you think and recoil. You exit the elevator quickly and notice people are watching you with a strange look on their faces you glance up at your reflection on the metal of the elevator your number is ticked up to a 2 digit number 98 what the hell what just happened. Well that's odd but it does happen to people sometimes randomly in their lives however as you keep walking it remains floating above your head. People continue to stare at you but the it's bound to change once what ever it is ends. You get out to your car and people stop staring after all in your car nobody can really see your numbers. You get home, without meeting any of your neighbors along the way. Once you're inside you double check that your bag is packed and that you're not missing anything. Your tickets and cloths for the morning are all laid out. You make sure your trash is out and the fridge is empty except for condiments you check your freezer to make sure nothing is in there that would smell up the place incase the unthinkable happened. As your going over your list of things like that, the spare key is under your solar lights cap and you've made sure your lights are all out except a few night lights near the door. The note for the girl who will be by to check your house is on the counter. You catch you reflection in the mirror it remains 98. Woah. Maybe your going to meet someone special on your trip? You are to excited to feel hungry anymore and decide to call it an early night. You take your clothes off and set them in the hamper, they look lonely being the only things in there. You slide into a comfy night shirt. It's practically the first time since you moved in but you didn't want to have to do laundry after you got back. Two weeks would feel so short but it still wasn't good to leave dirty laundry or dishes and food stuffs so you'd cleaned like a crazy person. It was probably the cleanest your place had been since moving in. You resolved to keep it nicer once you got back. You flopped on the bed turned on the alarm on your phone. You sit bolt upright jump out to make one last check that you packed your charger next to your passport and toothbrush. It's there, you go back to the bed plug your phone into the spare charger double check it's charging triple check the alarm and finally drift off to sleep.

When you wake up to the sound of your alarm you notice that uncomfortable tickle in the back of your throat. Like it's a little sore not painful or hurting just sort of uncomfortable. Well a bottle of water & emergen-C should help that. You grab an unchilled bottle from the pantry floor and a packet from the medicine shelf and change. Laying your PJs on the bed. You go to brush your teeth and rinse your mouth. Yup your throat is definitely a little inflamed. Your reflection shows you a clean shinning face and a 97 this morning. You add the packet to the water and chug it. Your friend should be here in about 5 minutes to give you a ride to the airport, and they promised Krispy Kreme donuts and coffee for when you drove them home from the bar and they threw up in your car. You look around once more grab your bags and lock up placing the keys in a pocket in your bag. You pull out the other bags handle and walk to the sidewalk to wait it isn't long before you see headlights which must be theirs no one else would be up at this god forsaken hour. They pull up to the curb and roll down the window to joke with you.

"Hey there looking for a ride?"

the smell of warm donuts hits you making your mouth water uncomfortably.

"Yah going my way?"

"Woah what's with your number?"

You try to shrug it off, even though it's starting to make you a little uncomfortable too.

Must be meeting someone big at the airport. They look at you skeptically.

"Or your planning to blow it up."

"Dream on you can't get rid of me that easy. Are those donuts?"

"As promised."

"Yes!"

You open the back door and put your bags in then climb in the front seat. You snag a donut.

"Aww it's still warm."

"Got you a Carmel latte too."

"Sweet."

"Sorry about your car."

"Nah it's good it only smells bad on really hot days."

They looked sort of sheepish for a moment then changed the subject.

"So what are you going to do on this trip of yours?"

"Oh sight seeing and food tasting and hiking and hopefully relaxing and wild frivolity."

"That sounds amazing."

"I know I can't wait."

You clear your throat.

"All good there ace?"

"Yah just a little tickle in my throat." You cough in to your sleeve to clear it. Your friend eyes get a little bigger.

"What?"

"Check your digits."

You look in the passanger mirror of the car.

50 you jumped to 50. Wow.

"Maybe this trip really is important. For the world." You sit the ride out silently after that sipping your coffee and munching your donuts.

You get to the airport, get your bags out, get in and it's full of a few people. You check in go through the airport security which is now a serious nightmare they pull everything out of your bags give you a full pat down and do everything they legally can to search you all because of your number which holds at 50 unwaveringly the whole damn time. You barely have time now to repack everything nicely into your bag. You get it all in but not near as nicely as you had it the first time. Your tickets direct you to your first gate before you'll transfer to an international flight at your next stop. You get there just in time to board. Everyone else on the flight looks super uncomfortably at your number shining now at a 51 which makes you feel just a little better that it's going down by the time your rolling down the tarmac your number is a more comfortable 78 and everyone seems to be easing up a little bit like they'd been holding their breath. Up in the air everyone was happy to laugh and talk and joke but even though it was a short small flight they all seem to avoid talking to you. Which is fine you'd have such a good time when you land it would make up for the lousy flight and lack of being served even a drink. By the time your ready to land your uncomfortably hot and just want to get inside. You touch down without any incident at all and even have a number in the 100s now you can see it in the glass window of the plane. Once the doors to the plane open you gather your bags and head inside. Here you are in a big international airport. You go in use the bathroom real quick and breath out a big sigh of relief when you catch your reflection in the mirror 3,058,118,643. Yup whew it wasn't gonna last. You just get to looking for your flight number and there it is that darn tickle in your throat again. Your hands are full so you can't cover you mouth like you've been trained so well to do. You try to clear your throat but it just won't go so you cough real hard and everyone around you stops dead in their tracks the people closest to you have dropped to single digits the man directly in front of you is a 2 and then you see it in the glass to the side of you, your number is a 1.

Writing Prompt

Everyone has a number floating above their head that shows how important they are, from 1 to 7.5 billion. You do something insignificant and your number suddenly jumps from 3,058,118,643 to 1.

Tag your responses with #wordsnstuff

[cooperevanr6-blog]

This equipment is available in tall upright or under counter models to suit individual business requirements. Double door display freezers are perfect to be placed in the front area of your bar, pub or restaurant. That’s quite an attractive and appealing way to draw customers to buy your refrigerated products without compromising the efficiency of the freezer.

[bruhm-appliances]

CHOOSE THE RIGHT FREEZER FOR YOUR NEED

When it comes to preserving food for a longer period, having the right freezer is essential. Bruhm, a renowned brand in the realm of home appliances, offers a diverse range of freezers to suit various needs and preferences. Whether you’re looking for a compact single-door freezer or a spacious triple-door chest freezer, Bruhm has got you covered. Let’s explore the extensive selection of Bruhm freezers to help you choose the perfect one for your requirements.

Bruhm Freezers: Versatility and Quality

Bruhm understands that every household has unique needs when it comes to freezing and storing food. And so, they came up with a wide range of options to cater to different preferences. From upright freezers to glass door freezers, each product is designed with functionality, durability, and energy efficiency in mind. 

Upright Freezers:

Upright freezers are ideal for those who demand vertical storage and easy access to their frozen items. Bruhm offers a variety of upright freezers with different capacities to cater to various household needs. Whether you need a freezer with extra space for storing bulk purchases or want to organize your frozen items efficiently, Bruhm’s upright freezers are a convenient choice.

Glass Door Freezers:

Bruhm’s glass door freezers are perfect for you if you run a retail business or want to organize your frozen products at home. These stylish and functional freezers possess transparent glass doors that allow you to easily see the contents inside without opening the door. Whether you want to store ice creams, frozen treats, or other products, a glass door freezer adds a touch of sophistication to any space.

Showcase Freezers:

For businesses looking to attract customers with a visually appealing display of frozen items, Bruhm’s showcase freezers are the ideal choice. These freezers feature a combination of glass doors and LED lighting to showcase your products in the best light possible. With options for single-door and double-door showcase freezers by Bruhm, you can find the perfect fit for your retail space.

Chest Freezers:

For those who require ample storage space for bulk items or larger cuts of meats, Bruhm’s chest freezers are the perfect choice for you. Available in single-door, double-door, and even triple-door configurations, these chest freezers provide enough space for storing your frozen goods. The double-door chest freezer is particularly popular, offering the convenience of separate compartments for better organization.

Choosing the Right Bruhm Freezer

Consider factors such as capacity, size, and energy efficiency when selecting the perfect Bruhm freezer for your needs. Think about how much freezer space you require, whether you prefer a vertical or horizontal configuration, and how important energy savings are to you.

Bruhm offers a diverse range of freezers to suit every need, from compact single-door options to spacious triple-door models. Whether you’re a homeowner looking for extra freezer space or a business owner in need of a showcase freezer, Bruhm has the perfect solution for you. Invest in a Bruhm freezer today and experience the convenience, quality, and reliability that this trusted brand has to offer.

[itserindorine-blog]

If you want a catering freezer with a huge capacity to perfectly meet the needs of your clients, then go for the triple door catering freezer from KoolMax Group

[shopequip]

Interlevin LGF7500 Upright Triple Door Display Freezer

http://dlvr.it/NsPFs6

[classysandwichcollection-world]

GE Front Control Dishwasher in Stainless Steel

Find the low prices on Dishwashers Compare ratings and read reviews on Clothing shops to find best deals and discount offers At: . There are many deals onDishwashers in the Shops online, so research before you buy. Whether you are looking for Dishwashers, Can help you save money with online discounts and discount codes on affordable selections -- find a Dishwashers that is best for you.

Rerate Posts

Ranges

Wall Ovens

Ice Makers

Freezers

Refrigerators

Shark Lift-Away Pro Steam Pocket Mop

Whirlpool 30 in. Gas Cooktop in Black with 4 Burners

Whirlpool Heavy-Duty Series 7.4 cu. ft. Commercial Gas Dryer in White

NuTone Allure III Series 30 in. Convertible Range Hood in Stainless Steel

ZLINE 30 in. 900 CFM Under Cabinet Range Hood in Stainless Steel

Kucht Pro-Style 48 in. Under Cabinet Range Hood in Stainless Steel

Frigidaire 11.5 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in Stainless Steel, ENERGY STAR

Samsung 1.6 cu. ft. Over the Range Microwave in Stainless Steel

Whynter 32-Bottle Dual Zone Wine Cooler

Avallon 86 Can 15 in. Built-in Beverage Cooler in Black and Stainless Steel

Whirlpool 21.7 cu. ft. Chest Freezer with Extra-Large Capacity in White

Air King Essence 30 in. Under Cabinet Range Hood in Black

Maytag Door Reversal Kit for Top Mount Maytag Models

Maytag 7.0 cu. ft. Gas Dryer with Steam in White

LG Electronics 5.2 cu. ft. High Efficiency Top Load Washer in White with Turbo Wash, ENERGY STAR

Whynter 13.8 cu. ft. Energy Star Digital Upright Deep Freezer in White

Kingsbottle 170-Bottle Dual Zone Wine Cooler in Stainless Steel

Foremost Professional Series 30 in. Range Hood Insert in Stainless Steel

GE 18.2 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in White

Whirlpool 36 in. W 22.7 cu. ft. Side by Side Refrigerator in Monochromatic Stainless Steel, Counter Depth

KitchenAid 36 in. Ceramic Glass Electric Cooktop in Stainless Steel with 5 Elements including Triple-Ring and Double-Ring Elements

Broan Internal 850 CFM Range Hood Blower for 64000 Series

Whirlpool 4.5 cu. ft. High-Efficiency Front Load Washer in White, ENERGY STAR

Panasonic 1.6 cu. ft. Countertop Microwave in Black, Built-In Capable with Sensor Cooking and Inverter Technology

GE Range Hood Insert

GE Profile 30 in. Gas-on-Glass DownDraft Gas Cooktop in Stainless Steel with 4 Burners

Frigidaire Gallery 27 in. Double Electric Wall Oven Self-Cleaning with Convection in Stainless Steel

Electrolux Corded Silent Performer Canister Vacuum Cleaner

Frigidaire Gallery 18.1 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in Pearl, ENERGY STAR

AKDY 36 in. Convertible Island Mount Range Hood in Stainless Steel with Tempered Glass and Touch Control

LG Electronics Front Control Dishwasher in Stainless Steel with Stainless Steel Tub

GE Stainless Steel Interior Dishwasher with Hidden Control in Stainless Steel

Whirlpool 30 in. W 18.2 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in Monochromatic Stainless Steel

Allavino FlexCount Series 172-Bottle Dual Zone Wine Cellar

Rejuvenate 24 oz. Bio-Enzymatic Tile and Grout Deep Cleaner

Whirlpool 30 in. 5.3 cu. ft. Electric Range with Convection in Stainless Steel

Summit Appliance 24 in. W 5.5 cu. ft. Freezerless Refrigerator in Black

Biocide Systems Liquid Shocker 11g Chlorine Dioxide Liquid Deodorizer

Cavaliere 30 in. Range Hood in Stainless Steel

Prolux 6000 Upright Commercial Vacuum Cleaner with On Board Tools

Maytag 5.8 cu. ft. Gas Range with Self-Cleaning Convection Oven in Stainless Steel

Samsung 7.4 cu. ft. Gas Dryer with Steam in White

AKDY 42 in. Convertible Kitchen Wall Mount Range Hood in Stainless Steel with Remote, Touch Control and Carbon Filter

LG Electronics 26.6 cu. ft. French Door Refrigerator in Stainless Steel with Door-In-Door Design

Whirlpool Compact Thin Twin Washer and Electric Dryer in White

Prolux S7 7 in 1 H2O Steam Mop Multi Surface Cleaner and Sanitizer

Trewax 32 oz. Hardwood and Laminate Floor Cleaner (3-Pack)

Eureka AS ONE Bagless Upright Vacuum Cleaner

Koolatron 12-Bottle Deluxe Wine Cellar

AKDY 36 in. Convertible Kitchen Wall Mount Range Hood in Stainless Steel with Touch Control and Carbon Filter

MetroVac DataVac Pro Series Toner Vac, 1.17 Peak H.P. Vacuum with Variable Control

Equator-Media 24 in. Build-in/ ADA 10-Place-Setting Standard Dishwasher in Stainless Steel

ZLINE 60 in. 1200 CFM Outdoor Wall Mount Range Hood in Stainless Steel

Sharp 2.0 cu. ft. Countertop Microwave in Stainless Steel with Sensor Cooking

Simple Green 1 Gal. Carpet Cleaner

Broan 6 in. Wall Cap in Black

NewAir 250-Count Cigar Cooler

Frigidaire 18 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in White

AKDY 12-Bottle Single Zone Thermoelectric Wine Cooler Chiller in Stainless Steel with Wooden Shelves

AKDY 36 in. Convertible Wall Mount Range Hood in Stainless Steel with Tempered Glass, Touch Control and Carbon Filters

Frigidaire High-Efficiency 3.8 cu. ft. Top Load Washer and 5.5 cu. ft. Gas Dryer in Classic Slate

ZLINE Charcoal Filters (Set of 2)

Vinotemp Connoisseur Series 46-Bottle Dual-Zone Wine Cooler in. Stainless

GE Profile 57-Bottle Wine Cooler in Stainless Steel

GE 18.2 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in Stainless Steel

Frigidaire 30 in. Convertible Wall Mount Chimney Range Hood in Stainless Steel

Danby Portable Dishwasher in White with 6 Place Setting Capacity

18 in. Top Control Compact Dishwasher Panel-Ready with 8 Place Setting Capacity

Whynter 65 Qt. Portable Fridge/Freezer

Whynter 49 lb. Portable Ice Maker in Stainless Steel with Water Connection

AKDY 12-Bottle Single Zone Thermoelectric Wine Cooler Chiller in Black with Wooden Shelves

Frigidaire Gallery 5.4 cu. ft. Induction Electric Range with Self-Cleaning Convection Oven in Stainless Steel

AKDY Range Hood Carbon Filter Replacement Ductless Ventless Recirculating Kit

Frigidaire Gallery Top Control Built-In Dishwasher with OrbitClean Spray Arm in Black

Danby 36-Bottle Freestanding Wine Cooler

Frigidaire 20 cu. ft. Top Freezer Refrigerator in Stainless Steel

ZLINE 30 in. 900 CFM Wooden Wall Mount Range Hood in Antigua and Hamilton

Zurn 3.5 gal. Exposed Flush Valve with Bedpan Washer YB-YC

Bona 128 oz. Hardwood Cleaner

Franklin Cleaning Technology 46 in. Workhorse Carpet Sweeper in Black

Allavino 28-Bottle Wine Refrigerator

Vinotemp 16-Bottle Black Thermoelectric Wine Cooler

NXR Entree 48 in. 7.2 cu. ft. Professional Style Gas Range with Convection Oven in Stainless Steel

Samsung 36 in. Gas Cooktop in Stainless Steel with 5 Burners including Power Burner with WiFi

Maintex 1 Gal. Hardwood and Laminate Cleaner

GE 30 in. Under the Cabinet Convertible Range Hood in Slate, ENERGY STAR

IGLOO 5.1 cu. ft. Chest Freezer in White

Frigidaire Gallery 30 in. Ceramic Glass Electric Cooktop in Stainless Steel with 5 Burners including a Warming Zone

Samsung 36 in. Glass Surface Electric Cooktop in Stainless Steel with 5 Elements with Rapid Boil and WiFi

NuTone Power Pack for Range Hood

Cavaliere 36 in. Range Hood in Stainless Steel

Dyson V6 Trigger Handheld Vacuum

Summit Appliance 5.4 cu. ft. Mini Refrigerator in Stainless Steel

Ecovacs WINBOT Window Cleaning Robot

Samsung 30 in. W 5.6 cu. ft. High-Efficiency Front Load Washer with Steam in Onyx

CASO Wine Master 24-Bottle Wine Cooler

Mammoth 25 Qt. Cooler Cruiser in White

Oilinator 20 Gal. Heavy Duty Oil Absorbent Spill Kit

Vinotemp Wine Mate 2500SSH Wine Cellar Cooling System

Atrix International Canister HEPA Vacuum in Red