#dryer service center

[24x7servicescenters]

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[business4u]

Refrigerators Repair Services in Reynoldsburg

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[elekid]

We Need $$ ASAP To Do Laundry While Living Outdoors

The manner in which my family does their laundry is largely the hygiene center which provides unhoused people in this area with our only safe & free opportunities to shower/do laundry/brush teeth. To make long short, suddenly the machines and dryers are gone, and now there are few & far between opportunites to do laundry for free until sometime in June. Besides us are couple hundred other unhoused people (we uh...tend to not have the disposable income to afford laundromat industrial machine prices, not to mention laundry soap!!!) are also unable to access this service.

I'm making this post to ask for whatever funding you are able to donate in order to access the laundromat across the street for our local unhoused community and ourselves this week. I know that we cannot be the only people running out of clean clothes already...The opportunity to have clean blankets is something that I do not see why any person would deny to another human being!!!

Funds for this laundromat are loaded into a prepaid card that can only be used @ on-site machines, and wheeled cats/wagons can easily be used for transport. The only store purchases neccessary would be laundry soap / laundry sanitizer

We will wash as much laundry as we can afford to!!!

(I can be messaged to ask for alternate methods of sending $$$)

TL;DR HOMELESS COUPLE NEED FUNDS TO DO LAUNDRY FOR SELVES AND LOCAL UNHOUSED COMMUNITY IN THE RISING HEAT !!!

[solar-sunnyside-up]

So my neighborhood is SO COOL and I wanna share some of the awesome stuff that's been making some movement. This is mostly to highlight why taking an interest in your neighborhood is so rewarding.

#1 - park renos! The park in walking distance of my house has been under construction for a few months. They're doing a LOT of work. Primarily, they are building a skating Rink, fire pit, picnic area, basketball area, and extending the existing kid park. Before it was just 3 baseball fields and a small park. They also have added over 10 apple trees and over 15 native trees!! They also have a Cafe going into the apartment complex they are putting across the street (which is low income housing but every unit has a washer/dryer, and has a firepit/BBQ area for entertainment on the roof I wish I had photos of it but I'll put a video of an example where I used to live btw the person in the video is my old roomie I'm sorry K for not editing u out forgive mee)

#2 little Libraries

There are 3 little Libraries in walking distance of my place, one is opening tomorrow! The one tomorrow also has a little blockbuster and a food pantry attached to it, it's outside a community resource center.

#3 Resource center

Omg!! So the resource center does a lot. It has counciling, good food boxes where you pay 30$ for 15lbs of produce from local farms monthly, job hunting services including free computers and printers for applying to things, parenting groups, that kinda junk. But the key feature I saw for the first time today was the "Closet room" which I thought was exclusively clothes but nah it's basically a whole thrift store! It's got baby clothes, toys, unused toothbrushes, movies, books, interview clothes, pjs going up to xxxL, pots and pans, anything else you could think of. It made me realize why no one uses the thrift store up the hill from me. Why pay when this closet community feature is free??? They have vollunteers run it so it's take way you want, donate what you can and omg!

I could go on but that's just from today!

[meowzfordayz]

they comfort you after you cry — gyomei, sanemi

Author’s Note: doing my best to wake up @ 8am M-F this semester… meow meow. :c

they comfort you after you cry

Himejima Gyomei x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~900

CW: explicit language

Emergency Request Fulfilled: May I request an emergency fic request where Gyomei or Sanemi comfort the reader after they’ve been crying for hours?

~faqs~

“My little ball of love,” Gyomei murmurs, footsteps soft as he enters the room, “May I sit beside you now?”

“More like little ball of snot,” you mumble half heartedly, knees clutched to your chest, blanket tossed haphazardly over you, “And only if you bring me another blanket.”

“I could build you a pillow fort.”

“And knock down every pillow you attempt to stand up?” you raise an eyebrow, wry smile warming your tone, “Your pillow forts are more like pillow piles.”

“And you dislike my pillow piles?” he teases gently, approaching the couch, happi in hand, “Could this count as another blanket?”

“I suppose,” you shrug, “But I also need something to blow my nose.”

Alarm wrinkles his forehead for a fleeting moment, grip tightening on his happi before reluctantly holding it out to you, “I adore you.”

“And I adore you,” you snort amusedly, the noise wet and stuffy, accepting his offering, “I won’t use your happi as my handkerchief.”

“My love?”

Tiredness thawing slightly at the tender hesitation in his voice, you pat the center cushion, relinquishing your bubble of solitude. Shuffling his large frame carefully around the coffee table, Gyomei seats himself, thighs sturdy and reassuring as you sink toward him, toes brushing his sweatpants as you try—and fail—to keep yourself on the far edge of the couch.

Grinning, he rests his palms in his lap, “Don’t fight it.”

“Don’t fight what?” you mutter stubbornly.

“My inevitable gravity.”

“You’re annoying,” you declare, jabbing his leg with your big toe, face scrunching at the feeling of stubbing it, “Annoying, and annoyingly solid.”

“Let me hold you.”

You blink, tears already pricking the corners of your eyes again, “Gyomei.”

“I respect that you appreciate time to yourself, that sometimes sadness is best left alone,” gaze settling on your sternum, “But if your heart is unhappy, then I want to be here for you.”

“I’m just moping,” you whisper, inhaling deeply, “Nothing to be here for.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do,” eyes rolling, ignoring the shakiness of your retort, “You want snuggles.”

“I want you to want snuggles.”

Silence envelops the space between you, toes still digging into his muscle — waiting, waiting, waiting. You don’t take long. A sigh slips from your mouth, tears falling freely as you scoot yourself onto his lap, arms loose around his neck as his palms press warm and steady against your lower back.

“I hate this,” sniffling into his chest.

“I love you.”

“I hate this,” willing your tears to dissipate.

They don’t.

“I love you.”

“I-” finally melting into the promise of his embrace, “I love you too.”

“Eye drops?” your brows furrow, arms crossed as you stand in the bedroom’s entrance.

Sanemi nods, unreadable expression on his face, “For,” gesturing vaguely, “Your eyes.”

“Ah, yes, eye drops for my eyes,” you snort.

“For fuck’s sake,” he scowls, gently—and quickly—grabbing your hand, bottle tucked into your palm before you can protest, “Dinner’s in progress, there’s a shitload of blankets on the couch, I made sure we’re logged onto all of our stupid streaming services, salts, oils, or those fancy bath bombs near the sink, mix them together, I don’t care. Your robe’s in the dryer, which I’ll get for you if you just leave the damn bedroom.”

“Stop moping would’ve been plenty,” you mutter, cheeks warm, avoiding his glare, “What time is it anyway?”

“Late enough for me to be cooking dinner.”

“My robe’s in the dryer?”

“And a pair of fluffy socks,” Sanemi admits gruffly.

“What about the fluffy towel?”

“You mean the idiot towel that doesn’t do its job? Yeah, it’s in there.”

Exhaustion washing over you, you lean your shoulder into the doorframe, eyes closing for a quiet moment, guilt tinging the excitement in your voice as your fingers clench into fists.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” he sighs, “May I touch you?”

“Mhm.”

Heat presses into your body as his arms encircle you, his soft, steady scent of lilac and bamboo more enticing than the unyielding caress of the doorway. Fingertips trace along your spine as you shudder closer to him, sinking into the assuredness of his posture. You know he worries, just as you know you can’t always be okay, the selfishness of your wanting more sickening to you than the delicate truth of his devotion.

“Sanemi,” you gulp, tears brimming, throat tightening, “I’m sorry.”

“The only thing you have to apologize for,” his tone rough, teetering on demanding, “Is for whatever dumbass idea has you shutting yourself away,” swallowing thickly, sucking in a sharp breath, “From me.”

“I don’t want to,” tears raising goosebumps on his bare skin as they slide down his chest, “I don’t want to shut myself away.”

“Then don’t,” fragile now, splintering as he tries once more to, “Let me in.”

“Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin?” you joke weakly, gazing up at the fierce affection in his stare.

“Shut the fuck up,” he groans, squeezing your waist until you’re giggling for mercy, “I’m serious. I love you. I’m disgustingly sappy, unbearably romantic, for you, so let me look out for you.”

“I want my robe.”

“And I want a kiss.”

“I thought I could get my robe if I left the bedroom?”

“Hm, the price went up.”

[babyspacebatclone]

Ok, I need some opinions on something.

I am a daycare teacher at a USA State licensed center. We serve approximately 50 children.

I always make a distinction between the center director, a woman I adore who treats the center as a community service, and the owner.

The owner would be flattered to be compared to Jeff Bezos or Elon Musk.

Any similarities the owner shares with them is entirely in the derogatory.

And after 5 6 years I am at my limit, and am very close to risking the owner’s wrath on all the staff by calling our state licensing for what I believe is a violation.

This asshole is trying to get us to do laundry every other day.

I repeat: We serve ~50 preschoolers edit toddlers and babies.

I will give details below the cut, but here’s the data gathering.

Context about the owner, henceforth “the asshole,” below “cut” two.

We used to have two washers and two dryers here at the daycare center.

About a year ago (I can’t remember the exact date), one completely broke down.

The asshole implied he would repair/replace it, and we should just use the one for the time being.

And, of course, left this alone long enough that we were stuck with just one dryer.

When we started complaining the other dryer was acting up, we were basically given rules for how to dry stuff so we didn’t “damage” it.

Two weeks ago, it gave up the ghost.

Since then, the asshole has had us wash the laundry every other day, and he takes it to a local laundromat to dry after we close.

Because when the repair guy checked the two dryers, neither were worth salvaging and both were 20+ years old.

And, apparently, he’s been telling people that went we do get a “new” 🙄 dryer we will still be expected to just do laundry “every other day.”

Since we are currently running out of wash cloths and bibs for babies and toddlers, he’s “offering” to buy more to make up the difference.

Which just… This asshole does not understand basic physics, does he????????

The only way to reduce the load on the washer and dryer is to use less cleaning stuff, not “use” it less often.

And we’re a fucking daycare center for babies, toddlers and preschoolers- we fucking need to fucking clean!!!!

We need to sanitize soft toys, especially for our babies! They chew on stuff! That’s their job!!!

We need to clean up spit up, spilt spaghetti sauce, and preschool boys missing the toilet!!!!!!

That’s the business you’re in!!!

….

Fucking asshole wouldn’t pull this on his wife’s center, I bet….. And they have fewer children….

Oh, and one of the built-in drawers in the preschool room had the front broken off two months ago. It’s still not fixed, it still slides out if a kid tries, and the broken particle board is covered up by painter tape.

This will be mentioned if I call licensing.

Anyway, the asshole - who is CFO, head of HR 😓, and makes himself responsible for all of maintenance (see above drawer issue) and purchasing supplies, also:

Says staff can’t keep rolls of garbage bags in the rooms, because then “he can’t tell when he needs to restock.” Staff are expected to grab new bags from the supply closet after cleaning.

Despite blaming staff for not being able to keep us stocked on basics, can’t manage to keep the canned veggies etc. reasonable for longer than 4 months at a stretch.

Remodeled our director’s office, without taking any of her concerns or suggestions into account. He knocked out a wall to combine two small offices, which turned out looking nice but we really wish we had an extra private room that doesn’t encroach on my director. Oh, and I know that at least half the work was done by his friends who are not in construction etc.

When he had the carpets replaced, the only company that would work with him would only do it during business hours, so we had to shuffle kids and have all the floor work done while kids were in the center. See below for why.

That’s what I remember since the start of 2024, I have more from previous years.

More background Part 2:

I’ve worked with this asshole’s series of centers for 5 edit 6 years. To my understanding, I’m the second longest employee to work for the family that’s not a family member or significant other.

The asshole (husband) doesn’t seem to think the fact he can’t keep staff for a center that’s run almost a decade and a half is a problem.

Which makes sense…

The asshole is also a licensed contractor who has to go outside the tri-city area to get plumbing and duct work done, because no one local will work with said asshole.

There are (currently) two centers under the owners, a husband and wife team. The wife’s in charge of the “main” center (the one that hemorrhages staff the most) and they purchased my current center almost five years ago when the previous owner/director retired.

I started working at a now-closed hole in a wall for the owners; getting moved over to this center and director was the best thing to happen to me, who was struggling with PTSD from a previous job (and getting re-traumatized by negligent staff at said center).

The current director started working for the old director as a college student, and is amazing. There are staff here at this center who have worked multiple decades under the previous owner.

The only reasons all the staff here continue working is the director, and honestly loving our kids and families.

But we are broken with the asshole. 😓

[stlivingla]

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[mrapplianceofbrandonandriverview]

Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview

Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview

Since 1996, Mr. Appliance® has been your proud partner for speedy home and business appliance repair throughout North America. Our service professionals are here to serve all your residential washer and dryer repair, oven repair, fridge repair and all other appliance repair needs. When you work with Mr. Appliance of Brandon and Riverview you can trust that our expert technicians will take pride in the cleanliness of their work, going so far as to bring a doormat to your home and wear protective shoe coverings before entering. We provide upfront, clear pricing, and never charge by the hour. We diagnose your repair in person and always provide on-time service and guaranteed work.

The Neighborly Done Right Promise delivered by Mr. Appliance

At Mr. Appliance®, we believe that repairing the appliances in your home is only the very beginning of the job and while it is an important one, it is not everything we want to do. At our appliance repair franchise, we strive to deliver a superior service to all our customers. When you work with our team, you can trust that you will be working with expert technicians who take pride in the cleanliness of their work; that pride is reflected in how we treat you, as well as how we treat your home. For example, we bring our own doormat to the job and put on protective shoe covers before we enter.

A quality home appliance should be built to last. However, as any homeowner can attest, there will be moments when even the best appliances need a little bit of repair and maintenance now and then. Finding the time to do so on your own can be just as time-consuming as any repair or maintenance need you may have.

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[tremendouskoalachild]

can i just... vent a bit. recently, maybe over the last couple years, i have been bumping into more and more things that are minor inconveniences to me at best but make me so mad on behalf of others.

all local university buildings are now only accessible with a student or employee id. i have one so i don't care beyond being slightly slowed down coming and going but those used to be public buildings, with cool unique stuff on display in the hallways and beautiful old architecture, largely empty at some times of day/week, and now you can only come in if you have an appointment or there's a special event. they're justifying it as a security measure because of a school shooting last year but the process of installing turnstiles was underway before that.

a big library building made all disabled bathroom stalls only accessible to eurokey holders. not everyone who needs to use those stalls has or can get one. this also greatly reduced the number of available stalls during peak times, and locked away the paper towel dispensers, so everyone is now queuing for a single hand-dryer per floor. great job guys, everyone loses. they're justifying it by people frequently vandalizing the bathrooms, which is fucking bullshit.

at the same library i was woken up from a quick powernap by security, because i was curled up on a comfy couch, and apparently you're only allowed to sleep in the library if you're sitting at a table. i was about to wake up and get back to typing anyway and didn't care outside of it being a bit embarrassing but we can all see this is just an attempt to get rid of people without shelter right

a nearby train station was under renovation recently and i was presently surprised that the public bathrooms were a lot more easily accessible and free of charge. but then they officially opened and turns out it was just free because it would be a hassle to charge money while they were renovating, and the fee went up. the bus station/mall across the street from there went from free bathrooms to free on a different floor but paid close to the bus terminals, to all paid, in maybe 10 years. they also don't have an actual way to get large luggage past the turnstiles at this bus station(!), so you better have someone watch it for you i guess. i don't really have an effective way to complain about all this because i don't live in the town, just pass through often enough.

so many free amenities and services were taken away during covid lockdowns and, predictably, never came back or got paywalled. fucking malls have paid public bathrooms now, and replaced sitting areas with kiosks. some of the more high-end malls outside the city center still have them but will ask you to get lost if an employee thinks you look like you won't be spending money there.

for the past two years many public buildings, like train stations and libraries, as well as privately owned malls, have been swarming with goons in security vests walking around trying to look tough. big coincidence this started when the first wave of ukrainian refugees got here, i'm sure. if you ask why there's a need to have four wannabe cops in a regional train station when there wasn't just a few years ago they'll just say it's a security measure and get mad at you.

[cloberthebirb]

Day one of reposting Doctor Who memes and also raising awareness on different issues!

Sexual Harrasment/Assault

A serious issue faced around the world that a surprising amount of people brush off. It is often taught to be acceptable as early as pre-K years (examples of this are responses to children being hit or groped such as “they only do it because they like you” or “boys/girls will be boys/girls.”)

These situations in a person’s upbringing can lead to long lasting trauma which can continue to affect them for the remainder of their lives.

As people grow older, they’re more likely to experience this. It’s more common to occur during adolescence and early adulthood as people tend to be more predatory towards people of those ages.

I myself have experienced sexual harassment (as a cis guy in his teens) due to no apparent reason.

IT CAN HAPPEN TO ANYONE

Just because someone is a man, woman, child, adult, gay, white, straight, black, does not mean that they can not be targeted.

Support victims

Many people don’t know how they can help out or what they can do to help so before I give some organisation links, here’s some things that I’ve found helpful in the moment.

1. If you see someone getting harassed (and as long as it does not jeopardise your safety), try and defuse the situation and take the victim away from the other member involved. Make sure they’re ok and contact proper authorities! Many people don’t report sexual harassment or assault as they don’t believe it will happen again and that it wasn’t that bad.

2. Support the people around you who’ve experienced it. If you yourself have, seek therapy, go to a support group. Talk. A lot of people are nervous or scared to talk but in reality the only thing it will do is help you in dealing with it.

A few charities to support if you can (if you can’t that’s perfectly fine!) As well as some general resources.

RAINN - international resource

Faculty against rape - An American run volunteer service focused on targeting SA/sexual harassment on college campuses

The Sexual Assault and Family Violence center (SAFV) - An Australian run hotline focussed on supporting victims and allowing them a safe space to talk.

I hope that this post can help someone and that the memes can make someone smile. Stay safe tumblr dryers!

[minathzimmer]

The Secret to Keeping the Sofa Always Clean

Being a leading Carpet Cleaning company in Capalaba, we offer the highest quality find out more here deep carpet cleaning, carpet deodorisation, carpet stain removal & stain protection services at affordable prices in Capalaba.

Sofas are used quite popular in families today. Careful storage makes it easy for your sofa to age quickly and doesn't keep the couch's bright colors. However, keeping the sofa is always something that not everyone can do well.

At least once a week to remove dust and dirt from the chairs. You can use a dry towel to clean, do not use a vacuum or a vacuum brush. The strong suction from this tool can disrupt the fabric and, at the same time, break stitches. You can use a small vacuum to clean the dust.

- One year you should use the laundry service sofa of the laundry shop once. Ask them to come home and clean the sofa carefully. Laundry services have a special cleaning agent that can help you get a new set of chairs back. Some silicone sprays have a dust-proof effect, which can be sprayed once a month.

Handling new stains in time:

For stains caused by soft drinks, coffee, tea, milk, you should quickly wipe them off with a soft, clean, wet cloth soaked in water. Wipe, and then dry with another clean cloth. Note: You should not immerse the entire stain in water, as it will make your chair wet and cause odors.

For stains caused by sticky substances, such as sauces, or chocolate, you should immediately wipe them off with a piece of absorbent paper, soak off the dirty water, then use a clean cloth to soak the soap solution. Dilute and clean gently from the outer into the center of the stain. Immediately dry with another clean, dry cloth. Avoid direct drying in the dryer or in hot light.

Handling dry stains:

With dry stains you should use a soft long brush, brush carefully, taking care to avoid rubbing objects directly on the seat surface.

Clean the sofa weekly:

Every week you should use a vacuum cleaner to clean up the dirt on the surface of the sofa. Use a white, soft cloth to soak in a soap solution diluted with water, squeeze dry, and wipe the surface of the sofa.

Regular sofa cleaning: (from 3 months to 6 months): Perhaps you also know the sofa is one of the ideal paradises for parasitic fungi, so washing the sofa periodically does not eliminate stains but also kills parasitic fungi on the sofa. Note: You should not wash the sofa yourself at home, because washing the sofa at home improperly will make your sofa damaged and lost quickly.

Storage of sofas even when not in use:

When you are away from home for a long time or do not use the sofa anymore, now is the time our sofa is attacked by dust, so you should use a white cloth to cover the chair to protect the chair from dust.

With the secret to keeping the sofa as clean as the new Back 2 New Upholstery cleaning perth company always wants to give you the best advice on service and the sofa sets are always clean and beautiful for the house.

[24x7servicescenters]

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[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 9: Shoulder to Shoulder Around the Fire

Prev - Shoulder to Shoulder Around the Fire - Next - All - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3913 - Rated: T, mild cursing, past injuries briefly referenced

Logan closed the washer door and stabbed at the buttons on the front of the machine before the cycle clicked on and the basin slowly filled with soapy water. With a heavy groan, he leaned against the basement wall and closed his eyes. He’d woken up a half dozen times in the night, plagued by dreams and nightmares and dreams until the thin pink dawn stabbed through his blinds and he gave up on sleep and dragged himself out of bed. 

He’d stripped his bed and showered, then brought it all down to the laundry room. Eyes still closed, he worked through a breathing exercise he’d found online and scrabbled past the rocky ice filling his mind to find something, anything to be grateful for.

He was grateful it was Saturday. Grateful he didn’t have to plaster on a smile and rush into the day and off to work. Grateful he had time to get this done, grateful for the chance to wash another night down the drain. Grateful for the high capacity washer.

A screeching whine snapped open his eyes and he watched as the machine agitated one more time then stuttered to a stop, the lights on the front flashing an error code of F1E2.

“Fuck,” he muttered and pulled out his phone to look up the code. The manual had long ago been recycled, but the manufacturer was decent about keeping their documentation updated. Should that count as something to be grateful for? Sighing, he swore again as he scrolled down to the error. Not quite.

With some difficulty, he worked his way around to the back of the machine to reach the manual override and drained the machine while he waited for the service center to pick up. He was still the next caller after he’d dumped the sopping bedding into big blue Ikea bags and checked the hours of the laundromat he drove past each day on his way to the highway.

It turns out, it was the only laundromat within a ten mile radius.

He kept the call live as he loaded up the car with the wet laundry from the machine along with the load of lights that had already been waiting for him. It was a short drive and he was still on hold when he parked and the phone suddenly disconnected.

“Fuck,” he swore again and took a deep breath before he redialed. Unloading his frustration on some poorly paid customer service rep who was working on a Saturday was hardly the right choice. He took another slow breath and forced a smile onto his face before he dialed.

A different voice message picked up right away.

“Thank you for calling Maytag. We look forward to serving you. Our call center is open Monday through Friday, 9 am to 3 pm, and on Saturdays from 9 am to 12 pm,” Logan checked his watch. It was only 10 o’clock. The recording continued. “Eastern Standard Time.”

“Of course.” Logan sat frozen in the driver’s seat, staring down at the phone as the message repeated twice before disconnecting. He silently recited a new litany of things to be grateful for. There had been gas in the car. He had cash in his wallet for the machines. The laundromat was close. 

Sighing, he pocketed his phone and hauled the laundry and a tote bag full of soap, softener, and hangers for his shirts. In his first real brush of luck for the day, Logan was pleasantly surprised to see the laundromat wasn’t crowded, with the only other occupants an attendant at the back folding laundry that had been dropped off and a young couple over by the dryers.

Logan fought to keep his attention on the machines in front of him as he loaded them up and added soap to the dispensers. He hadn’t been to a laundromat in decades, not since college, but it appeared the machines were at least that old, so it didn’t take much to figure them out. A bright bubble of laughter drew his attention and he watched as the couple worked together to pull a giant comforter out of the dryer. The woman giggled when her partner piled the comforter on top of her head and shoulders, then pretended she’d disappeared. Logan’s heart ached at the softness in his eyes as he laughingly bumped into her, and the way his hands went up protectively, sweetly , ready to catch her in case he knocked her off balance.

He would never begrudge such a sweet couple their happiness, but… that couldn’t make it hurt any less to have it dangled in front of him. After a few more moments of miming looking for her in the dryer and under a counter, the man lifted up the comforter and exclaimed joyfully at the sight of his partner underneath. Tossing aside the blanket, neither seemed to notice or care when it slipped off the folding counter and onto the floor as he pulled her into a kiss, right there in the middle of the laundromat.

Logan looked away and fumbled for his wallet to go and make change for the machine.

His movement seemed to have reminded them they were in public and, still giggling and whispering, they picked up the comforter and worked together to fold it before tackling the rest of their laundry together. They made chores look like just one more chance to spend time together. He supposed that, for them, that’s all this was. Just another sunny Saturday morning, full of laughter and dryer sheets. And love.

After he’d fed the machines almost twenty dollars worth of quarters, he set a timer on his watch and went out to wait in the car for the cycle to finish. He hated himself for it, but he was relieved when, ten minutes later, the door to the laundromat burst open and they left, hand in hand. Logan put down the book he’d been trying to read and went inside to wait for the timer to go off.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Logan to distribute the clothes and bedding between three dryers. While he waited, he leaned against a folding counter and tried again to get through his book. The Four Agreements. If it had been anything other than a library book, he would’ve tossed the damn thing forty pages ago.

“Lo?” a sweet voice from his dreams pulled him away from the page and he looked up, near-certain he’d simply imagined it. 

“Roman?” Logan blinked. “H—how?” Roman smiled back at him, less than three feet away. Dressed in slim, bright white jeans and a crimson henley that hugged his chest like it’d been painted on, he could’ve just stepped off the cover of a magazine. Literally. One of his cover shoots in a Variety Logan had found in the periodicals section had featured a strikingly similar outfit. This… this couldn’t be real.

Logan brushed his fingers over the hot glass on the dryer door, hand jerking back at the searing heat. No, it wasn’t a dream. Roman was really here, smiling in front of him in the middle of the grimy laundromat. “Roman, what are you doing here?” he laughed as he stepped closer, a pleased smile pushing away his earlier dour thoughts.

“I recognized your car outside,” Roman shrugged, as though it was the most normal thing in the world for him to travel around this little suburban neighborhood. Pushing himself up, he sat on the counter next to him. “You weren’t in the salon next door, and,” he winked and bumped into his shoulder. “I figured if you were in the massage parlor at the corner I’d leave you in peace.”

“That’s some fine detective work there, Mr. Prince,” Logan laughed again, hoping the heat of the dryers disguised his blush at the kind of things that were rumored to transpire at a massage parlor that didn’t open until four in the afternoon. Logan nodded, “But how… How did you know it was my car? There are a lot of Pilots around here.”

“You live in Kirkland.” Roman rolled his eyes and jerked his head toward the parking lot. “You were parked between a monstrously large pickup with a ‘thin blue line’ flag and a minivan with a faded Trump sticker. There aren’t a lot of Human Rights Campaign decals around here.”

“It’s getting better, but… you’re right.” Logan frowned and opened the dryer when it buzzed. He felt the clothes, flipping them around and checking the heavy seams on his duvet. He closed the door and added three more quarters.

“What did make you move out here, anyway?” Roman waited until Logan returned to his side, grinning when he catapulted himself up into the counter next to him. “It’s so far from work.” 

Logan frowned, mouthing opening then closing as he worked out the best way to explain.

“Oh, fuck, I…” Roman shook his head, bumping his knee. “I didn’t mean to pry. That—”

“No, it’s quite alright,” he assured, bumping back. He tilted his head, watching the worry dissipate from Roman’s eyes. Logan smiled. It shouldn’t be alright, he didn’t like to talk about, well, any part of the divorce, but… it didn’t seem like Roman was asking because all he cared about was gathering sordid details or some juicy, gossip-worthy tidbit to squirrel away for a dull moment at a party. He… It just seemed like he cared.

“Patton wasn’t doing well in his neighborhood school,” he said at last. “They were unwilling to make even the most basic of accommodations. The Explorer school up on 6th was highly recommended.” He adjusted his glasses. “I… must admit, I used a bit of subterfuge to get the moving clause added to our parenting plan in the divorce decree. I added it at the same time I proposed a rather draconian vacation schedule.” He shrugged. “Her lawyer took the bait and called a special session to get me to update it.” He watched a yellow shirt tumble around in a sea of white oxfords. . “They never even noticed the other clause until after it had been signed. After it went into the plan, I found a place within the school’s boundaries and Remy and I moved here, with Virgil and Patton coming here every other week” 

Logan realized he’d been rambling and he looked up but Roman simply listened, that same soft smile pulling up one corner of his mouth higher than the other. “Was it hard…” Logan looked away, fingers twisting in his lap. “I mean, moving with three boys?”

“Oh…” The cold knot in his stomach eased and a slow smile spread across his face. “The stove malfunctioned on our first night all together and the furniture truck had gotten lost in Yakima. The boys and I ate pizza and Taco Bell for the first few nights… “ He glanced up at Roman, searching his eyes for boredom or, worse, judgement at his poor planning. Roman just nodded, smiling as he leaned in, listening. Logan smiled back. “We ate together on a plastic table cloth in the middle of the living room floor. Patton still talks about how great it had been.” 

He looked out at the bedding twisting in the dryer. “It’s not perfect. It’s a long commute and I’m responsible for coordinating extra-curricular transportation even when Patton is at Kelly’s place in Seattle, but… it’s a good place for Patton, despite the… au de MAGA. It’s worth it.”

“It sounds great,” Roman nodded, a wistfulness to his smile that Logan didn’t fully understand. “You know, the next time I’m negotiating a contract, I want you on my side,” he added. “That was brilliant.” Another dryer buzzed and, blushing, Logan leapt down from the counter. He fished around in the machine and nodded. Roman was at his side with a laundry cart.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling as he looked up at the hanging bar. “Perfect, in fact. How—”

Roman gestured to the shirt Logan had just pulled from the machine. “It’s best to hang them right away,” he explained. He grabbed one of the hangers sticking out from the canvas ACLU tote bag tucked under the counter where they’d been sitting. “May I help?” he asked, reaching tentatively for the shirt in Logan’s hands. “I spent three years as head of costume at the London Coliseum.”

“Thank you,” he said again, once more confounded by his answer. His hands moved automatically, shaking out a shirt as he watched Roman expertly flick then smooth the collar of the shirt he’d plucked from the dryer. Logan smiled as he reached for the next shirt, only looking away when Roman faced him again.

“Do you always come here?” He asked, hooking the first shirt on the rod, ready for the next. “You seem to have a solid routine.”

“Ah, no, actually,” he looked down, the morning’s frustrations churning in his stomach. Shaking it away, he pulled out another shirt. “I discovered this morning that our washer had broken overnight. The timing was… unfortunate. I’d fallen a bit behind and, well…” He looked out at the three dryers’ worth of laundry. The duvet bounced in its own dryer, the colorful paisley staring back at him.

“You’re a better man than I,” Roman chuckled, buttoning the top button of his favorite shirt before hanging it on the rod. “I would’ve moped for at least a day after that kind of morning.”

Logan glanced up as the happy couple hed watched, the reminder of his shameful jealously burning his cheeks. “Who says I didn’t mope?” he tried to laugh. Roman’s hand lingered when he reached for the next shirt, pinkie and ring fingers touching.

“You’re here,” he said simply, that soft, knowing smile curling up his lips.

“Yes, well,” Logan cleared his throat and looked away, hoping he hadn’t been staring as long as he feared he’d been. “So, you explained why you’re here in the laundromat,” he asked, eyes fixed on the last shirt from the dryer. “What are you doing slumming on the Eastside?”

Roman laughed, rich and resonant in the tiny laundromat. His whole body moved with it, curls bouncing around his face. “Your Costco is the least hectic I’ve seen around here,” he said around another laugh. “Once you get past the parking lot, that is.”

“You rented a car and drove all the way out here for the Costco?” Logan tilted his head, brow furrowed.

“That and the teriyaki place next door,” he chuckled, pulling the cart back so Logan could close the dryer door before moving to the next finished load. Logan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m serious! I’ll prove it to you!” He tapped the laundry cart and grinned. “When we’re done here, let me buy you lunch. You’ll see.”

Logan looked up at him over his shoulder and nodded before he pulled out the duvet, bundling it in his arms to keep it away from the dust bunnies on the dingy tiled floor. “Alright, Mr. Prince. Prove it to me.”

Bending over, Roman grabbed two corners of the duvet and stepped back, pulling gently to stretch the linen out flat before bringing his corners together. “You’re on, Mr. Sanders.”

~~~

“You have the neatest trunk I’ve ever seen,” Roman remarked as they loaded up the back of Logan’s Pilot with two baskets of clean clothes and bedding. He carefully laid the stack of cotton shirts over the top, crossing the arms loosely to prevent more creases. The carpeted trunk floor was pristine, a small travel vacuum neatly strapped in a side compartment the evidence of how a father of three managed to keep it looking so clean.

“Says the man who drives rentals all the time,” he chuckled, the sweet blush painting his cheeks. “Aren’t those detailed after each trip?”

“Exactly,” Roman laughed, stepped back while Logan lowered the hatch. With a chirp, he locked the doors and pocketed his keys. “Shall we?” Roman bowed, barely resisting an impulse to offer his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I find doing laundry always works up an appetite.”

“Lead the way, good sir,” Logan nodded, slipping inside when Roman held the door for him. Once inside, he reached for his wallet.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Roman winked at him. “Kirkland money doesn’t work in here.”

Laughing, Logan raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mm-hm, absolutely against the rules,” Roman said with his most serious face. “It’s not allowed. Only Seattle money is allowed. You’ll have to put away your wallet, sir.” Logan continued to stare at him, an incredulous smile spread across his face. “It’s my treat,” Roman finally said, dropping his stern expression. “Please let me treat you?”

Blushing, Logan nodded and put away his wallet. A twinge shot through Roman’s heart when he wondered just how long it had been since someone had taken him to lunch. From the way he acted, Roman would guess… never. “What would you recommend?” Logan asked, looking up at the busy menu.

“Definitely the miso soup,” he said. “Oh, and the spicy teriyaki chicken. All sweet, all spice…” Roman bumped his shoulder. “You’ll like it.”

“I defer to your judgement,” he murmured with a little nod.

“Famous last words!” Roman laughed and stepped up to order. “Oh,” he turned back, serious again. “Allergies?”

“None,” he nodded.

Tapping his fingers together like an evil villain, he laughed, a little thrill running up from his toes when Logan laughed back. “Perfect.” Turning to the owner working the register, he smiled more genuinely. “こんにちは、お客様、” he bowed his head. “Two number threes with miso soup, please, and two pineapple bobas.” Roman laughed over his shoulder at Logan. “For the heat.”

“Just how afraid should I be?” Logan said unseriously, stepping closer. Even over the scents of spice and umami swirling in the air, Roman smelled the clean, warm scent of the lavender and vanilla softener he’d spotted in Logan’s bag. It was nice.

“Very, very afraid,” Roman grinned, bumping his shoulder. “Mr. Masao takes the ‘spicy’ part of spicy chicken very seriously,” he winked at the owner.

The man laughed, shaking his head. “あなたの彼氏はかわいいです,” he said, smiling toward Logan with one eyebrow raised. “But your pronunciation needs work, Mr. Prince.”

“Doesn’t it always?” he nodded, blushing when Logan laughed along good naturedly. “私の彼氏ではありません。” Logan stood so close and he hadn’t missed the way his eyes had lingered over his shirt and his jeans… Perhaps… “まだ。 多分？” Roman nodded at Logan, “Lo, this is Mr. Masao.” He bowed his head the way Roman had earlier, smiling. “Mr. Masao, this is my very good friend Logan Sanders.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanders,” he said.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Masao,” Logan replied, eyebrows knit together in a sweet, perplexed expression. “You really do frequent here. How… How often do you make it out to Kirkland?”

Roman shrugged. “Whenever I come to Costco, really. Best place to restock the green room,” he grinned. “It was a bit of luck to get to see you today.”

“It helps that there’s only one coin-op laundromat on the Eastside,” Logan said dryly. 

Was it Roman’s eyes that said he’d blushed again? Or his heart? “I suppose, it does.”

~~~

“So what did you do then?” Logan laughed, leaning forward, lips parted as he waited for Roman to explain how they continued the showing of A Midsummer Night’s Dream .

“The crew got up into the box seats around the back,” he gestured behind his head.

“But you said it was a full house.” Logan’s eyes sparked, following the movement of his hands. “It must’ve gotten crowded in those seats.” 

“The stage manager was quite persuasive.” Roman shook his head, another laugh bubbling up. “Promising they could sit on the apron of the stage to watch the rest of the show helped.” Another soft bubble of laughter burst from him and Roman stared. His expression was so different than it had been when he’d first spotted him in that stuff laundromat. Roman was certain he could live off that smile. 

After a moment, he shook his head and continued. “Everybody turned on their phone flashlights and it was just enough to keep the fire marshall happy.”

Logan sat back, grinning as he took another sip of his boba. “The fairies’ blessing illuminated by flashlight.” Logan’s eyes danced over his face and he felt himself blushing, just barely resisting the impulse to dab at his mouth, checking for sauce. “That must’ve been something to behold. A throwback to the Globe.”

“Exactly! It was so much fun,” Roman nodded. “You know, I’ve been thinking about ways to incorporate more natural lighting in my shows.” Logan’s eyebrows jumped up, his eyes brightening to the same shade of the clear sky out the windows behind him.  

“That sounds fascinating,” he murmured after a long moment. “Will you tell me more?” He gently prompted, and Roman blushed, realizing he he’d been staring again.

“Mmm, yes,” he nodded, wrangling his runaway thoughts. “I’ve been in talks with Seattle Storybook to adapt A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Much Ado About Nothing for their summer theatre series.” Roman leaned forward. “They have an outdoor Amphitheatre just a block from the big fountain and the playground.” He circled  his plate  and with his utensils. “Theatre in the round, outdoors…” Roman dotted his fingers around the edges. “The littlest kids could sit in the grass around the stage or run around the top if they need to get the wiggles out.”

“Wow,” Logan whispered, mirroring Roman’s position. “I’ve been to that amphitheater with the boys…” He grinned up at Roman. “They wouldn’t believe it was meant for plays. They would race each other up and down the steps,” he laughed, a soft, joyous melody.“ Remy would always let Patton win and Virgil used to get so mad.”

“I can almost see it!” Roman laughed, nodding. Logan’s face shone, lips full and relaxed as they spread into a wide smile. He looked down at the makeshift model Roman had built, eyes lingering where Roman was tracing the ‘steps.’ “We’re looking to create some roles for children from the youth theatre program.” Those brilliant blue eyes jumped back up at him and Roman nearly forgot what he was going to say. “I—I’ll be directing, too.”

“Oh!” Logan suddenly exclaimed, reaching across the table and touching his hand. “You’ll get to work with kids again,” he grinned. Roman just nodded, words gone. Logan’s hand was strong, and warm. Each nail had been cut—or bit—to the quick and sported the faint matte sheen of an anti-nail biting varnish. His fingertips were calloused but the inside of his hand was extraordinarily smooth. His ring and middle finger bent out at awkward angles, the bone thickened in places. Like old fractures that hadn’t healed quite right. Roman gently squeezed his fingers, stroking the back with this thumb.

Logan yanked his hand back and Roman tamped down on the instinct to follow, to hold on. “I—I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, of course not, I…” He looked down and laid his hand in his lap, hidden under the table. He didn’t finish his sentence.

After a moment, he took an awkward bite of his food. With his right hand. Logan kept his eyes lowered, and Roman struggled to speak. Finally, he blurted out, “You should come with me.” A flash of joy brightened Logan’s face and he looked up, blinking in surprise. Roman nodded, words falling out in a jumble before Logan could demure.

“It’ll be fun, we’ll get to see some of what they’re working on, maybe go backstage afterwards?” He nodded again, caught in Logan’s gaze. “If… if you’d like…” Roman licked his lips, hesitating for a moment before he just dove in. Maybe his brother was right. Can’t get what you don’t ask for. “Please say yes.”

Logan’s tiny smile was the sweetest Roman had seen yet. He nodded, eyes widening as though he’d surprised himself. “Y—yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

~~~Translation for the bit in Japanese above

... Turning to the owner working the register, he smiled more genuinely. “Good afternoon, sir,” ... Mr. Masao laughed, shaking his head. “Your boyfriend is cute,” he said, smiling toward Logan with one eyebrow raised. “But your pronunciation needs work, Mr. Prince.” “Doesn’t it always?” he nodded, blushing when Logan laughed along good naturedly. “Not my boyfriend.” Logan stood so close and he hadn’t missed the way his eyes had lingered over his shirt and his jeans… Perhaps… “Not yet. Maybe?" Roman nodded at Logan, “Lo, this is Mr. Masao.” He bowed his head the way Roman had earlier, smiling. “Mr. Masao, this is my very good friend Logan Sanders.”

[mehadihasan88]

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[grouchythefish]

So I saw your reblog about truckstops, and as someone uniquely qualified to answer your rhetorical questions, this excited me. My qualifications include living within fifteen minutes of and having two family members who currently work for the Iowa 80 Truckstop, having worked there for six months after high school, and then having a parent who worked there for seven years before working for the other truckstop across the road.

The truckstop I worked for, Iowa 80, is located in Walcott, Iowa, is the world's largest truckstop. They almost lost that title to their sister location and had to expand their square footage. Inside this truckstop is a 24-hour restaurant, a laundromat with at least fifteen washers and dryers (I haven't counted), a dentist (who I highly recommend for dental emergencies), full scale showers for purchase that include private restrooms (some are fully wheelchair accessible), a small movie theater, a hair salon, a chiropractor, a small office that's used as a church/worship space for truckers with resources for local actual churches and advocacy groups, a food court rivaling our local mall, a game room, a gift store, and finally, the showroom. There's also a small truckers lounge with free internet access and lots of space to sit and converse.

The only thing missing from the post is places to sleep. You could technically sleep there. It is a 24-hour business, and I have seen people take their dogs inside during storms and camp out on the floor of the showroom before. But there's not like... beds or anything. There are a few hotels nearby, but as can be expected due to the nature of the trucking industry, they're all motels and cheap places to sleep that's not the bed inside your truck.

The showroom is large enough to house a full semi with trailer (used for storage), with an electronics section, chrome department, and a small graphics printing section called the custom shop, where you can have embroidered t-shirts and vinyl stickers made of your company's logo, or whatever you want. For sale on this floor includes all kinds of accessories and electronics for truckers, as well as a small media selection of DVDs, CD's and audio books. They also have a section for mattresses for your semi, as well as they used to have a small spot to buy musical instruments.

The foot court and convenience store are a huge room with a Taco Bell, Pizza Hut, Wendy's, combination Einstein Bros Bagels and Caribou Coffee, Dairy Queen/Orange Julius. There is also a full-scale convenience store, with every soda, snack, and candy you can imagine.

In the gift shop, you can buy your normal stuff. T-shirts and such. But you can also buy katanas. For some reason. And I used to have to sell those at 3am. They also at one time sold a whip. But no guns or alcohol, thank god. That would've been too much for the family-friendly label that the family that owns the company has.

There's also a service center, with access to truck diesel, DEF, etc. It has a Chester's Chicken, a Blimpie, and a smaller little gas station selection of candy and drinks and such.

Now, if you want alcohol or lottery, you gotta go across the road, to Pilot.... which is where my mom defected to after like six years of working for Iowa 80. They sell booze. But there's not only one, there's TWO of them, across the road, and across the interstate from Iowa 80. One has an Arby's, and the other has a Subway.

In this small section of town, there's also a McDonalds, but it's not part of everything else. It's just there, between the little Pilot store and one of the aforementioned motels.

You now know everything there is to know about my weird situation with Iowa 80/Pilot.

But there is one thing I gotta say, this is pretty unique. Most rest stops, and gas stations are like Pilot. Located off the interstate, a little shop to get gas and snacks, a restroom, and some space to stretch your legs. Iowa 80 is a big ass building and part of a family owned business with multiple sister locations. In the US, most rest stops and such are just a gas station, maybe a bathroom with a place to get out for vending machine snacks and a spot to hide from bad weather.

Okay that's all bye~

Omg thank you so much for sending me this!

No place to sleep does make sense since most transport trucks have beds built in anyways.

Most truck stops here are basically just roadside food courts with a gas station outside and sometimes with a tiny gift shop that might have t-shirts and keychains. I pass 5 on my way to and from work (god my commute is far too long) and all except one are owned by the same company (OnRoute) and are pretty boring.

Now that I'm thinking about it, I'm pretty sure the only truck stops I've been to with anything more than that have all been in the US on roadtrips. Though obviously none as exciting as the one you are describing (Jesus Christ a movie theatre and a dentist??)

I kinda wanna own a truck stop katana now.

[fates-theysband]

i will say this. there is one noted downside to being back in my little box. and it is that i now have to deal with even more coworkers who do not know what my department actually does because now i'm back to directly interacting with our delivery subcontractors who i think are actively trying to make the Call Center Bastards' lives miserable

like today i got a call from a customer who had been dealing with a weeklong saga about getting side venting on her dryer. we do not offer side venting. the delivery subcontractor said our particular local delivery facility does do side venting. they do not offer side venting and they told this to multiple people but the customer just kept saying "look at the notes! the carrier said you did!" and other people just kept blindly creating work orders for a service we do not offer because they Looked At The Notes. and somehow they actually got a team out to take the customer's dryer back to the delivery facility for side venting. Which We Do Not Perform.

i had half a mind to just put this for my call notes: