#house cleaning kirkland

[hanrylucas]

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Conclusion

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[rssprofessionalcleaning]

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[ego-meliorem-esse]

inspired from your post on arthur's love for alfred being compared to his home, what would arthur's affinity (i don't think it's love? but more like fondness?) for matthew look like as a house?

I wrote this more in Matthews POV, not Arthurs and realised too late. I'm sorry :/

Mathieu comes under Arthurs care in 1763. His home is both prepared yet also unprepared. Alfred is the beloved son who lacks nothing, is granted every wish, from literature of his choice, to expensive astronomy equipment. Yet, while this home is very child proof and child accomodating, it's all those things for a particular child though: Alfred. For a whole year Arthurs home is Alfred centered. That started to change, but I'm afraid not by Arthurs will or trying. Alfred found his platonic soulmate in his brother. They become inseperable. Matt starts to speak more English and Alfred is asking him for his oppinion more and more. Eventually even Arthur finds out what Matts interests are.

At a certain point the boys room becomes his own. The furniture is a fine dark wood color, it matches. But not in a painful way for Matthew. The wood is scratched and old. It's used and clearly loved. The boy has a good quality bed with dark red bedding and missmatched pillows. The matress is fine too. It's new. Matthew appreciates that. By the side of the bed stands a wayy too large drawer, and atop it are notebooks. some used to write in some to sketch in. Mathieu, now Matthew, is sketching less and less though. He's smiling more. He is playing outside more. He hasn't touched a rifle in a while. The only blood he sees is when Alfred cuts himself on the book page he is turning. He considers his brother to be slightly annoying in the beginning, though as time passes, Alfreds charm and kindness shines brighter than any negative notion Matthew has of his brother.

His room isn't empty. Even if no-one is occupying it at times, it's still very much full of life. And not only by his own things, but with knickknacks Alfred brought and left there. Alfred doesn't like Matthew's room. He doesn't like that the window in his brother's room face north. It gets less sunlight and that's something that annoys Alfred a lot. There is also a rather large tree in front of Matthews window that obstructs any view of the nights sky. Very annoying to Alfred.

But Matthew is not Alfred. Matthew's room is the best and safest place the boy has ever had. It's not cold at night and the door is opposite of the window. Also, he gets to choose where his desk is to be placed. He settled next to the window, but changes it quite a bit.

He is on guard and tense less and less as time flows. He starts to live in his new home instead of staying in Monsieur Kirklands house. Matthew is not keeping company to the lord's son anymore, but playing and jumping and telling stories with his brother.

The feeling of being an imposter and not belonging never truly left the boy, but feelings of being care free and happy buried the insecurities quite deep down in his chest.

Naturally, life seems to have a personal vendetta against the boy, so as the 12th year of his new life comes to a close, things change and feelings hidden float up.

The feelings resurfaced after Alfred stubbornly decided that he ought to buy passage on a commercial ship headed to Boston. The fear of being not wanted or needed came back when Matthew received a letter from Alfred telling him that he wasn't coming back "home". The only family he had, had left him once again. The feeling of being left to fend for himself pierced a cannon shaped hole in his heart once more. It wasn't until the early 20th century that he would actually consider Arthur his father, not just a mentor and patron. So in his mind he was left again with no family.

And so his room changed. He left fewer and fewer belongings out in sight on tables, drawers and the bed. His room was clean and clothes tucked away. He didn't draw anymore and the books he read were the ones which found themselves already in his room.

It's funny how our mental state reflects in the spaces we occupy. I need to clean my room.

[lordofspamano]

The Lesser Key of Lovino Vargas

Here is my entry for today. Long live Spamano Week! Be wary, this is NSFW. I'll put the first paragraphs here and then link to the AO3.

Letter from father exorcist Lovino Vargas to bishop Romulus. 16th of October, 1978.

To the most reverend bishop Romulus.

I arrived at the estate at dusk, and it does not surprise me in the least that the enemy has made its lair in it. The paint must once have been of marine colors, but mold and rot have corrupted the place until making it unrecognizable.

At the start, I was afraid of any sort of criminal groups residing in the house, but I couldn’t find any trace of recent human activity, not even the graffiti that the young and astray use as signs of their insolence and depravity.

I lit a lantern to keep guard there. I sat down in the main hall of the house, trying to avoid the rats and the cockroaches, for I admit to being disgusted by such creatures. On top of their creaking, I could hear occasional taps on the walls, sudden currents of cold wind, and the creaking of the old wooden pillars, which once bore carvings of hyacinths, their shapes now bloated and cracked by the putrefaction of the material. It was until three in the morning that I heard it come; my faith has never been stronger than in that moment.

My ears were the first ones to notice its arrival, with soft footsteps on the cold marble floors. It-or he, for he took the shape of a man, was green-eyed and human-looking, with thick brown hair and a muscular build.

“Welcome,” he said, smiling at me.

“What is your name?” I asked, and I confess to having stuttered. He was wearing a clean black suit, his hands in his pocket, relaxed in his posture. I doubted for a second if he was actually a spawn of the enemy; he looked quite human. Perhaps some sort of mental illness, and not a creature of the pit, was responsible for the reports by Mr. Kirkland?

“Why are you here, dashing young man? I bet you could have a much better job than being a priest.” As he said this, he leaned against the old chimney, and showed his teeth in a gesture that I can only describe as obscene. He bit his lower lip while keeping his eyes fixed on me, and I instinctively reached for my rosary.

“You know what this is?” I said, holding it in front of him, though my hand was shaking. This is not how these creatures appear. I could swear that he was human, merely a mentally ill one. Later, I would realize how wrong I was...

@spamano-week

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Super random question: from one of your fics, what was that species of melon that Matt was trying to grow when he was staying with Arthur in England? What is its significance to Matt?

Trigger warning for pretty bad emotional neglect of a child, non graphic illness and some shockingly nice headcanons.

And ah, the Montreal melon. It's a type of muskmelon or honey dew or honey rock from Canada around the Montreal reason and it's a bit peppery! Like a sweet slightly tart nutmeg flavour. It's one of those few things that Matt just... really associates with one of the somewhat rare fucks given about him lol.

It's supposedly from the 19th century but there are images of it or something very similar going back quite a bit earlier. That headcanon post thing was in early spring in the late 18th or very very early 19th century. Matt's under Arthur's roof because the economy sucks ass after the American revolution so it's not worth the money to really do anything with him. Arthur's vaguely hoping Francis will buy him back lol. So no one much pays him much mind, he's more or less left to his own devices so he tries to keep himself entertained and productive and out from underfoot. Wars with France are going full tilt again so no one wants to socialize with the French welp.

He does his work, doesn't complain, cries outside if he's sad or homesick or lonely so he doesn't get on anyone's nerves. He eventually rescues the cat from the dairy yard that Arthur lets him keep but it's in one of these episodes of loneliness one of the gardeners asks him if there's anything he'd like to put in the garden that year and Matt asks for the nutmeg melon. The gardener doesn't want to risk square footage on something he hasn't tested so he says if Matt can grow it somewhere and prove it'll do all right, he'll put it in the garden. So for a year or two, at the very end of winter he's always out in the mud beyond the back garden where he won't get yelled at trying and failing to start up his melons. They keep dying and he's sad lol. They need a green house but he's not really allowed in there with his stupid little experiment.

But they're dead, he flops over ill with the economy in the gutter and gives up. In a whim while on a walk, Arthur follows the cat outside one day into the parkland beyond the gardens, finds Matt's little failed attempt and, pulls up some not entirely mud rotted melon vines and hands it over to the greenhouse. He vaguely recognizes it as one of Matthew's silly attempts to grow something in the windowsill and well he's been even mopier than usual so maybe if it lives he'll stop being so bloody depressing. Matt's kind of stopped doing anything except his work, sluggishly dragging himself to get the eggs and feed the chickens and other poultry.

He kind of just falls over in a feverish heap one day, one of the staff puts him to bed and they're kind of at a loss "who's even in charge of this one?" The uncle who's expressed half a fuck is overseas, Admiral Kirkland hasn't so much as mentioned the boy. He's just kind of there? But someone finds Rhys down in the valleys with the sheep so he marches back up to the house, doesn't even take his wellies off, and tells Arthur off because he is in charge of the lad and it's not as if Francis is going to take him back in the middle of another war for Christ's sake.

So Arthur tells the household to go feed the lad something decent and checks in on him. He's not too poorly off just sad, weak and a bit miserable but Arthur sits down to chat a bit, make sure he's not about to have to clean up a death and Matt just kind of leans over and kind of wants to be held. Arthur's not really... there yet with him so he just awkwardly, if gently scolds him to get back under the covers, he's getting too old for this kind of nonsense anyway. Matt apologizes, rolls back over and curls back up. Arthur gives him an awkward pat and grimaces about the show of what for Arthur at the turn of the 19th century is practically hysteria. Good lord, that was awkward and undignified. Matt just kind of unravels. Nothing matters, much less him. Not a serotonin in this kids body. He misses Alfred like mad, he hasn't had a letter from his uncle in a year. He feels like shit so he just kind of starts shutting down. Fever spikes, he doesn't start hallucinating but he's confused and crying a lot and no one really wants to do much about it so again someone tells Arthur about it and he kind of sighs "very well, easier than paying off witnesses to a resurrection." Hauls him over to the actual family side of the house, and tries to get his temperature down and indulges the incessant need for human contact the boy wants. And lord, it's annoying how much Arthur enjoys parenting but much resistance he puts against having another child but even his anglo ass is kind of touched by how much Matt enjoys his father's company. He's yours you dumb ass!!!! Love him a little and he'll do whatever you want for centuries!!! Long before antibiotics or even real painkillers all Arthur can really do is ply him with Willow bark tea and keep him company and that makes most of the difference. Like oh, surprise, some basic affection gives him the will to live. Who'd've fucking thought? When he's feeling a bit better, Arthur starts stashing him in the library near his desk piled up with blankets by the fire and Matt is more interesting than he's ever been. He sleeps and reads mostly but occasionally asks questions and perks up. Takes a bit, pre modern medicine but he hops too it just in time for spring and oh, well look at those melons coming from hot houses now. They'll have to plant a few rows! Cue getting barrelled into and squeezed and having one whole feeling about making Matthew happy.

So voila, melons are love.

[flashlight-sticker]

Day 1 - “Have we met before?”

Alistair cleaned the sink, swiping the drops of water off with a rag and sending them back down. The house was spotless today, the way it hasn’t been in a long time. Between his job and the volunteering he hardly found the strength or the will to properly clean up the place. The books laid all around, occasional cardboard boxes forgotten in the corridor, a bunch of documents that was used in the previous week for… some reason, an album on the table with the pictures scattered round after he finished looking through it, unwilling to put it back together.

Yeah, that’s pretty much how his flat looked.

But not today. Today it was licked spotless, meat baking in the oven, a table set.

Plates, knives, champagne glasses, all shining and ready.

He could hear the talking from his living room, his brothers sitting around the coffee table, guessing who is it that Arthur was so excited to bring over.

Well, perhaps “excited” is a strong word when used towards Arthur, but it’s the only fitting one. Arthur Kirkland, THE Arthur Kirkland, who was in his emo (or punk, whatever he called it) era just about last year, who claimed that love “is nothing but a series of chemicals” and “useless” has found someone. That someone, who filled half their conversations over the phone, that someone whom Arthur seemed to find in everything. And that someone was coming today.

Alistair dropped the rag into the sink, his left hand immediately flying up into his hair, rubbing backwards.

He had a bad feeling about all of this. This wasn’t gonna end well.

He let out a sight, closing his eyes for a moment, concentrating on the chatter in the living room.

He should cheer up. Arthur is bringing over a girlfriend… or a boyfriend, or whoever the hell he is dating.

A quick glance at the clock. Half past six. They promised to be here at seven o’clock, but knowing Arthur, they will be here in just about twenty minutes.

He better put on something more presentable.

***

Seamus opened two bottles of beer, handing one over to Alistair.

“They grow up so fast, hmm?” He threw the phrase at him with a knowing grin. Alistair scoffed in return to the century old joke between the two of them.

“Aye…” Alistair raced through his mind, forcing himself to remember some comeback he could possibly give back to his brother to keep the conversation alive “Back in my day lads didn’t have to do the whole ‘meet my family’ thing, because a man—“

Rrring…

The doorbell rung astonishingly loudly. The two exchanged glances and Alistair put his beer down onto the counter, its contents still untouched. He paced down the corridor, towards the door. One final look in the mirror. His shirt was ironed and his hair was laid out neatly (as neatly as he could get it). He absolutely resented the jumper Dylan made him wear, but couldn’t exactly oppose.

The key was turned, he pushed down onto the handle of the door and opened it.

The light from the corridor was partially shaded by Arthur standing in the doorway.

He was also looking prim and proper, his trench-coat finally cleaned, tie in place, shoes shining.

“Hello, Alistair.”

It was just then that he noticed that he froze for a moment. He stepped back, putting his hands into the pockets of his trousers, Seamus standing right next to him.

Alistair put on a smile, the best one he could manage and leaned against the wall in an attempt to seem casual.

“Hiya! Was the way here alright? The roads are awful busy at this time of the night!” he let out a huff that was supposed to be a laugh.

“We were alright” Arthur starting taking off his coat, slipping out of his shoes and then he came in.

Alistair felt his heart sink at the sight of blond wavy hair tied in a neat ponytail, the pastel colours of the shirt and suit, the thin and long fingers, the ever so slightly tanned skin and eyes, those blue eyes, as light as the sky on a sunny day, innocent and peaceful.

Francis.

“Oh, everything was great” he flashed Alistair a smile, his accent as evident as always and more endearing than ever before. “You shouldn’t worry!”

Alistair felt sick.

***

The introductions were over and everyone was sat at the table. Chatter filled the room, Francis being charming enough to fit in. He seemed oblivious. Oblivious to the fact that Arthur was eyeing his brothers with doubt and oblivious to Alistair.

He had barely spoken since the Frenchman came in, his uneasiness only heightening with each passing second. He was right since the very start. This thing wouldn’t end well.

He looked in the general direction where Francis sat, immediately catching his eyes. He smiled at him. At him. And Alistair couldn’t help but immediately hide behind a yet another glass of champagne.

He didn’t plan to get smashed tonight, but it seemed like fate decided differently.

He felt the champagne flowing down his throat, his cheeks heating up slightly.

Did he really not remember him? Did Francis seriously look him in the eyes and not recognise him at all? Did he not remember the time when they were dating? Yes, of course, it’s been almost ten years since then and yeah, Alistair changed quite a bit, but he couldn’t have possibly changed that much!

Alistair tried to imagine himself at the start of his geology course in University. Long hair, he was thinner and the bags under his eyes were much smaller. He didn’t have a beard. His face had much less frown lines.

Ten years… Perhaps it’s much longer than what he thought it was.

Looking at Francis yet again he understood that he didn’t change at all. He looked as young as before, his eyes didn’t loose their sparkle, he didn’t suffer from loneliness or constant fatigue. He didn’t age a day since the moment they parted.

A French exchange student. Half a year. The best half a year in Alistair’s life.

Could he really call it dating, through? Could be really say that they were in a relationship during that time?

No, it was a hookup. It was an affair, a time when they could release their needs, a time when they could simply give in to their desires.

There were no higher feelings in that.

There was no reason for them meeting up, other than letting themselves go for a night.

For Francis.

It didn’t matter for him, it didn’t mean much more than that to him, it wasn’t worth remembering for him.

But it meant the world to Alistair. And that world shattered when Francis promised to call and didn’t, when Francis promised to keep in touch and didn’t, when Francis promised to care and didn’t. When Francis left him without a care in the world.

“Oh, speaking about dessert!” he was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by Dylan’s happy voice. “I bought a cake, Arthur’s favourite. Sorry, we didn’t know what you liked” he heard Francis hum with a smile on his face and forced himself to stay focused on the dialogue at hand, rather than the other time he heard Francis do that, his hair glowing in the rays of the rising sun, eyes half-lidded and sleepy—

“Oh, yes.” Alistair’s voice was low and he cleared his throat “I’ll go make some tea.”

He heard Dylan say something about him being ‘so considerate’, but it was somewhere far away, his mind filled only with how his numb hands were moving the chair away, pushing the door, grabbing the kettle, putting it on…

He heard the water being slowly heated by the gas stove and leaned against the counter, head in hands.

God, let Arthur break up with him.

God, let them not get along and don’t let this relationship progress any further.

It was a pain having to sit through a two hour dinner with Francis, what will happen if this goes on ? What if they marry ? Invite him to their wedding ? Adopt children ? Bring them over to Alistair’s for Christmas, exchanging pleasantries and be as oblivious to his position as right now ?! What will happen if Francis will be carved into his life, never available, but always torturously close ?!

Alistair wished for nothing but happiness to Arthur (even through it might not seem like it at times). But he wouldn’t be able to handle this.

The lock clicked.

He jumped up, whipping his head towards the door. And there he was. Francis.

“Are you feeling okay ?” He looked the slightest bit concerned, tilting his head to the side a little. Alistair’s right hand started shaking.

“Oh, aye. Aye, just a headache” he cleared his throat once again, wondering if it was suspicious that he did it so often and turned the gas off.

“Hm. Must be all the noise. Your brothers are very loud.” Francis stated with a smile, a soft blush gracing his cheeks.

Alistair scoffed.

“Yea. They tend to be.”

“Um…” he could see Francis shift from one leg to the other uneasily. “I was wondering… Have we met… before?” He could hear how uncomfortable he was, asking this question, his voice unsteady and eyes moved towards the wall in an unsure frown.

Alistair felt bile rise up.

He looked directly in front of himself, mind blank, eyes empty.

‘Have we met before…?’

He looked down onto the tea leaves slowly unwrapping in the kettle and felt bitterness flow through his body, wrapping around his heart.

‘Have we met before?!’

“No.” Alistair moved five cups across the counter, towards Francis “But I would appreciate if you took these to the living room” Francis smiled back to him.

“Anything for my boyfriend’s family to like me”

Clang of tableware, a wink, the door closing. And silence.

[acemapleeh]

Alfred Home Headcanons

We see Alfred with quite a few houses throughout the series so I think it’s fair to say the man gets around and lives all across the country. It was difficult pinning down just a few for this post and even more so for the photos to go alongside it.

I’m going to be narrowing things down to regions of the United States but I think this man has at least one home in every state. We’ll be here a lifetime if I had to describe his home in Ohio vs Indiana.

We’ll start with New England.

His oldest homes are located here, the most noteworthy is his white colonial home in Massachusetts just outside of Boston overlooking the bay. This is the one he was raised in for a large part of his youth under Arthur’s care and tutorage. Think of the house that we see in the episode of America’s Storage Room Cleaning with the wrap-around porch and expansive garden. It’s an honestly massive home for just one person to be living in. During the mid to late 1800′s when people like Lovino, Tolys, and Morgan came to work in the United States, this was the main residence that Alfred lived with them in. Finally felt a little less lonely.

I think Cape Cod or Georgian is the best fit for the style of house in this region, like, to be more specific.

Traditional accents rather than it being the main focus.

Similarly to Arthur's dust-covered archive of an estate, this is where Alfred stores a lot of his things from the days of old. Unlike his father, he doesn't put much out on display. A couple pieces of memorabilia here and there but for the most part, he's got it in a box shoved in a corner of a room he hasn't opened in half a century.

What once was Sir Lord Kirkland's bedroom when staying in the colonies, has the largest upstairs balcony that looks over the garden and on clear days, out to the harbor. A telescope perched on the railing always on the lookout for father's return home.

I think something of old he does have out on display is a massive quilt he has up and framed in the living room. It's something that took him ages to finish back in the 19th century and the fabric is far too fragile for him to use it practically anymore.

For New York, he lives in a high-rise apartment in Manhattan. Big, open floor plan, and lots of large windows, and it's perfect for entertaining guests. This is his most modern and luxurious residence. Beautiful view of the city and Central Park. Think of the apartment that we see in Hetalia of the Living Dead.

Back in the 20s he 100% had one of those big Gatsby mansions out in the Hamptons and threw parties all of the time but got rid of it all towards the latter half of the decade. Think of the ridiculousness of Mansion Party by Ninja Sex Party

The last one for this area will be the brick row house in West Philadelphia. This is likely his second oldest home and where he spent a lot of his time during the Revolution. This is where he feels like where he was really born as a nation so he has a lot of deep ties here.

I want to give him an attic bedroom with a desk by the window that can see the steeple of Christ Church near the Delaware River. The same desk he's written pamphlets for the Revolution, letters to his brother, and for even a time, a typewriter when he was feeling a resurgence of literature and poetry in the early 20th century is still there.

I don't which state exactly has that beautiful blue suburban with the big pool. Somewhere there's not a lot of snow year-round and gets those hot summers where all you want to do is submerge yourself in water. Somewhere in the South, I'm thinking either one of the Carolinas or Georgia.

He feels like the type of person to have ranches all across the central US. Most of the year he has other people working on them to take care of the animals.

The one he frequents the most is the working cattle ranch in Arizona.

Time capsule midcentury house out in the Midwest. I want to say somewhere in the Chicago area. I want to put it in Southern California where this style of house first started to get popular but going to give some love to other parts of the country.

Floor-to-ceiling windows, a sunk-in living room pit, short staircases connecting rooms throughout the house, partial brick walls, fireplaces centered in rooms, and several doors and windows to access the outdoor living space.

If you've been on my blog for a while then you might have noticed I love making Alfred a California Beach Boy. I can give him so many houses in just this state alone but I'll keep it short and sweet.

His bum-out beach cottage is located in Santa Monica and he's been located there since the 1890s. The house itself has been remodeled and updated several times over the past century. The materials he uses for the house as well as the layout stay fairly consistent, with lots of natural, light wood and open space to allow in lots of sunlight and central airflow. It's also a small space; you open that front door and right away you can already see the living room, kitchen, dining room, and out to the ocean out back. The entryway is the house.

It's almost purposely made so you can see the wear on the floors and furniture. If he drops a surfboard on the floor and there's some damage left behind, he'll leave it there. You can see the wood frames have been handmade and have some flaws and mistakes if you run a hand over them.

It's also very analog with most of the tech in the house dating to maybe the mid-90s at the latest: VHS and record player, rotary phone, etc. No AC either but he does have a great internet connection.

If I cannot fulfill my lifelong dream of having a colorfully painted Victorian house in San Francisco then Alfred can have one. I think he spent a lot of time in the 80s in the Bay Area and this old house was just a constant project of fixing up and refurbishing.

Okay, the last one I'll talk about for the time being will be his house up in Washington State.

I just really love Contemporary houses and Alfred had one built for him when they first started gaining popularity in the Pacific Northwest in 1935. Large windows invite the beauty of the region into the house while complementing the natural landscape. The Pacific Northwest features steep, rugged terrain that encourages post and beam architecture.

Tucked away in cozy woods and nestled along a majestic river.

Decor often brings nature indoors using live-edge wooden furniture, stone and wooden accents, and other cozy touches.

I don't see Alfred as being a big log cabin person but incorporate the coziness of one into this house. Place that Twilight filter on and it's his most aesthetic getaway.

[pugetsoundcleaners]

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[intercrusroofing]

Seattle Roofing Company | Making Sure the Roof on Your House Is in Great Shape

Do you see some missing shingles here and there? Or maybe your Seattle roofing is showing signs of wear and tear? One of the most important parts of your home is the roof, which keeps you and your family safe from the weather. Here are some important things you should do to keep your roof in good shape so it lasts and works well:

Regular Checks: Have your roof checked regularly, ideally twice a year, to look for any damage, leaks, or other problems that might arise. Check the roof for missing or broken shingles, signs of water damage, and places where the roof might be sagging.

Gutter cleaning: If your gutters are clogged, water can back up and damage your roof and even the foundation of your house. Make sure you clean out your gutters often to avoid problems or issues.

Cut Back Overhanging Branches: Branches that hang over your roof can damage the shingles when it's windy or stormy. To keep this from happening, cut back any branches that hang over your roof.

Fix Leaks Right Away: If you see water stains on the ceiling or walls or other signs of leaks inside your home, you should fix them right away. Ignoring leaks can cause more damage that will cost a lot to fix later on.

Professional Maintenance: If you want to keep your roof in good shape, you might want to hire a professional Kirkland roofing company like Intercrus Roofing. We will be able to find any problems quickly and make sure your roof stays in great shape.

By using these tips and keeping up with roof maintenance, you can make sure that it stays in great shape for years to come, giving you peace of mind and safety.

[myeaglescleaning]

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[jerryantiques]

Estate Cleanouts: How Theyre Accomplished And The Way Much It Costs

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One last thing to keep in mind is most non-profits in the Bay Area are restricted with resources to pick-up donations. Factor in the price of transporting donation gadgets on to charities for drop off. When you make your kind on the web page, you have to allow ajax type submissions and it has to level out the success on the web page, not redirect to a thank you page. If you wish to complete an motion and disable a popup with a thanks page, contact Jeff to help set up that workflow. Make positive to let us know you’re fascinated in this extra service. Whether you simply need to downsize the additional in your house or have a big commercial building that wants every room cleared of furnishings and particles, call us at Jiffy Junk.

The promoting of someone’s estate may be attributable to a loved one’s passing, downsizing as a end result of monetary burden, or one other main life event. Broken fences, caving decks, leaning sheds, are all dangers on properties that must be removed. That means, in some circumstances, an estate owner might need to rent estate cleanout services near me both a demolition contractor as properly as an estate cleanout professional. However, some estate cleanup companies will both associate with a demolition firm or they themselves are licensed to deal with some demolition work. This makes the proprietor or property manager’s job a lot simpler as they only have to contact a single contractor.

Two nice, respectful young men were sturdy and careful to take away old bedroom furniture from second story residence. Also took an old sofa from the basement…they cost according to the amount of house it requires within the truck. In addition to the physical challenges encountered, you could additionally want further gear and manpower to correctly dispose of your junk and unwanted objects.

During this difficult time within the Corona Virus and COVID-19 era, we help families which may be unable journey or are probably to their property wants by offering a true one-stop useful resource. We are targeted on making life just a bit simpler for households throughout often tough occasions. First, verify to see if your family and friends have any supplies left over from a recent transfer. Typically, transferring corporations will sell all the packing supplies you could want at a fantastic value. We pride ourselves on our customer service and personal respect and can complete the service as you direct. In houses or estates that were owned by the aged, it is fairly frequent for the house to be filled with belongings.

[amigogutters]

Factors To Consider Before Taking Gutter Replacement Service in Kirkland

A home's drainage system relies heavily on the gutters, which are prone to wear and deterioration like many other external elements. Examining and cleaning the gutters should be a top priority on your spring maintenance agenda.

Keep your drains clean and maintained regularly to ensure they last as long as possible. This article will help you to know about Gutter Replacement Service in Kirkland.

Signs That New Gutters Are Required

If your gutters have multiple missing, loosened, or bent fasteners, are sagging or pushing away from the house, or exhibit other significant wear indicators like fractures, holes, or leaks, it could be time to consider a replacement.

Various kinds Of Gutters

These days, many different kinds and designs of gutters are available, and the main ones are made of vinyl, aluminium, copper, steel, galvanised steel, zinc, and other metals. The most common gutter material, aluminium, has several benefits over other kinds.

Aluminium is a lightweight, corrosion-resistant material that comes in various colors. It is also frequently the least expensive choice.

Zinc is applied to galvanized steel gutters, which are quite sturdy but may rust easily.

Steel gutters can also be found with an aluminum and zinc coating, which solves the rust issue but is more expensive.

Another choice is zinc gutters, which are sturdy and long-lasting and typically don't need to be finished or painted.

Copper gutters are a very stylish and appealing option, but they are much more expensive than those made of other metals.

An additional affordable choice is vinyl. Vinyl gutters can be found in various colors to complement different types of vinyl siding. Still, metal is weaker than they are since they corrode over time from exposure to sunshine, necessitating more regular replacement. Furthermore, the rubber seals that unite the 10-foot portions of vinyl gutters can grow brittle and leak over time. Also you can search by writing which is the best Gutter Contractors near Me Seattle?

How To Select The Best Type Of Gutter For Your Home?

Every home's exterior must include a gutter. Rainwater is gathered and diverted away from the foundation, reducing the risk of water damage. But how can you tell which gutter type is best for your house when so many variations are available?

Climate: If you reside in a region with frequent downpours, you'll need a gutter that can hold much water. On the other hand, if you live in a dry area, you will want less capacity.

The roof's style: Gutters come in various materials, some better suited for particular roofs. For instance, vinyl gutters work well with asphalt shingles, whereas copper gutters are best for slate roofs.

Your budget: Because gutter prices range greatly, it's critical to establish one before you go shopping. Remember that materials of higher grade typically require less upkeep and last longer. By considering these things, you may reduce your options and choose the ideal gutter type for your home.

Conclusion

Most experts agree that aluminium gutters provide the finest value while being the most fashionable and long-lasting. Seamless aluminum gutters with a minimum thickness of.025 inches are what you should be looking for in new channels.

There are many possibilities for "toppers" for those gutters; solid hoods and filters are the most popular. So why are you waiting? With the help of this article book the best Gutter Installation service Kirkland within a pocket friendly rate.

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[theunderneath]

How would yandere 2p FACE + 2p Romano react to an s/o who is so excessively delicate that even just grabbing their hand or arm a little bit to tight leaves massive painful looking bruises? Like a slap on the wrist would leave s/o looking like they just had their wrist broken.

Haha, this is gonna go badly

--

2p America/Allen F. Jones

“God fucking dammit, how the hell did you get another bruise? People are gonna think I'm beating you if these keep appearing."

- He isn't beating you, in this state. He thinks your too fragile to be hit. When he is in his right mind at least, when he's angry it's all fair game. He'd probably think he's killed you with how beaten you look. He does feel bad about it to be fair. Over all he isn’t a great yandere to have, you’ll be covered in bruises.

2p England/Oliver Kirkland

“Oh how pretty!"

- He likes them, like a lot. You just look so pretty in some purple and greens. Though he would like it if you wore pink or maybe even red. He has this urge to mark and make sure everyone knows your his, probably with knives. He’s pretty ok as a yandere for this, he’ll clean the wounds soooo.

2p France/Jean Bonnefoy

*Staring at all of the marks*

- Feels really bad for some reason. Most, if not all the bruises you getting are off his hands because he can be kinda rough. He’d think he’d like all the marks on you, especially ones on your ass/hips (HE is an ASS and THIGH man I STAND by it). But he doesn't, he just feels bad. It gets worse if you complaining about them hurting.

2p Canada/James Mathieu Williams

“fuck."

- HE ADORES THE MARKS! Maybe it’s just because he’s around animals all the time, but something in his just screams to turn you black and blue. He almost feels bad for all the marks. Bruse of his teeth, fingers, hands are all over. There is no way you're leaving the house without getting some stares, not like you could.

2p South Italy/Romano/Flavio Vargas

“Oh no, I left a bruise. Now we need to cover this up with some makeup. Hopefully I have your skin tone, what am I saying. Of course I do!"

- A tiny tiny bit frustrated. He just doing your makeup for your new LOOK and accidentally taps your face. Annnnnnndddddddddd now you have this big black bruise all over your face that he has to cover up. He has to train himself to be even more gentle than he already is.

[alifeasvivid]

The Floor is Lava, a ukus rom-com; Chapter 3

>.> as promised

Chapter Rating: T Warnings: omegaverse, alpha Arthur/omega Alfred Summary: Arthur has a meeting with Brandon, Alfred and Matthew bicker until Brandon makes an announcement, Arthur explains some stuff about the renovations to Charlotte Word count: ~2300

Read here on AO3.

Arthur wishes he weren’t feeling such an elevated level of anticipation as he opens the door to Brandon Jones’ office. He can’t even be certain that Alfred is there and he is acutely aware that his instincts signaling the thrill of the chase is a rather inappropriate response to a simple meeting with his contractor.

Brandon’s administrative assistant smiles politely at him as he enters. She’s an omega, probably around Arthur’s age, and mated judging from the ring on her finger and the faint red scaring on one side of her neck. “Good morning, Mr. Kirkland,” she says, obviously having expected him. “Mr. Jones will be out in just a minute. Would you like some coffee?”

Arthur returns her polite smile. “No, thank you.” He surveys the office; it is small, tidy, and clean, but the decor is very minimal. As Arthur understands it, Brandon doesn’t usually have clients here—they are normally met at their own homes, which only makes him more curious as to why he had asked Arthur to come by.

The door to Brandon’s office opens. “Ah! Mr. Kirkland. Thank you for coming in, I know it’s a bit unorthodox.” He greets Arthur with the firm sort of handshake Arthur has come to expect from Americans, particularly other alphas. “Shall we?” he gestures to the open door.

Arthur nods and follows him in.

Brandon sits at his desk and directs Arthur to have a seat across from him and clear his throat. “So to start off,” (one thing Arthur appreciates about Brandon is his ability to just cut right to the point), “the inspection of your house went well and we’ve only found some minor plumbing and electrical issues. The house is in excellent shape considering its age, so we’re able to get started as soon as you say go.”

“That’s excellent news,” Arthur replies, relieved. Of course, the house had been inspected when he’d purchased it, but it’s good to have a second opinion confirming its good condition.

Brandon nods and takes a sip from a coffee mug branded with his own company logo. “I also wanted to thank you for letting Alfred do your inspection and for—”

Not molesting him on-sight? Arthur thinks, but he understands completely and jumps in to save Brandon. He nods, showing his comprehension, and immediately says “It’s perfectly alright, he clearly did a very thorough job and he was very kind and obliging with Charlotte.”

Brandon laughs. “That sounds like him. Even when he was a kid himself, he always had the younger ones following him around like ducklings, even his little brother.”

Arthur forces himself not to melt. He clears his throat. “You thanked me for ‘letting’ him do the inspection. Do clients often take issue with him?”

Brandon hums mildly. “Not always, but it happens. Alfred got his bachelor’s in architecture. He’s very intelligent and capable, he always has been, and my guys have taught him how to do the job right, but as far as the world has come, some people still don’t see past a person’s type. So thank you. It means a lot to him.”

As Brandon speaks, Arthur starts to have the surreal feeling that he has traveled back in time a hundred years or so to some matchmaker’s office. “It was really no trouble at all,” he says neutrally. “I could see he is very competent.”

Brandon positively beams. “Excellent! I was hoping you’d say that. You see, any contractor who works under me has a kind of apprenticeship period before they’re cleared to do work on their own. Alfred has helped manage projects and managed parts of projects by himself before, but he’s never managed one all on his own. We would have had him doing it quite awhile ago, actually, but it’s been… ah, difficult finding the right client.”

Arthur reads that one like flashing neon.

“I haven’t even mentioned this to him yet, I didn’t want to get his hopes up, but I was thinking of having him manage yours, if you’re open to working with him.”

Arthur blinks. He clears his mind and detaches this situation from his attraction to Alfred. He focuses on the old house he had purchased precisely because it is in dire need of updating and he wants to update it. He hired Brandon based on a personal recommendation, various glowing online reviews, and his own impression of the alpha. The man knows what he’s doing. Furthermore, Arthur thinks, this is their process. There should be nothing appreciably different about Alfred taking this on than any other member of Brandon’s team. Except that Alfred is beautiful and smells like sunshine. No. Stick to the situation at hand. “Uh. Yes. Of course.”

“Great! Obviously, I’ll be checking in on him and evaluating him. And if you ever have questions or concerns about anyone on my team, including him, I encourage you to contact me.”

Arthur can’t help but smile at that. Though Brandon’s love and affection for his son are very apparent, he is clearly committed to treating Alfred the same as anyone else who works for him, as much as it is possible. Arthur respects that, he doesn’t know if he could be so impartial toward Charlotte. “I most certainly will, Mr. Jones, thank you. I look forward to working with Alfred.”

—

Alfred sniffs the air as he wanders into the kitchen. He grabs a can of soda from the fridge and leans toward the stove without getting too close in order to investigate the various pots and dishes surrounding it. “Smells good, Matt,” he says with a grin. He reaches out to stick his finger in a saucepan full of melted cheese only to have his hand slapped away.

“Don’t you dare. Ugh. You don’t smell good, did you just get home or something?” Matthew, Alfred’s eighteen year old alpha brother, grabs Alfred by the upper part of his arm and pulls him in close to sniff near his head. “Hm.”

“Hey, let go,” Alfred yanks his arm away. “Jesus, I’ll take a shower. What are you making anyway?”

“Macaroni and cheese cheeseburgers,” Matthew answers.

Alfred’s mouth waters and his stomach growls, but he frowns. “Jeez! Make sure the buns are donuts while you’re at it. Ugh. Your cooking is the reason I have to spend so much time at the gym. I hope your future mate has a great metabolism. And I was supposed to cook tonight. You’re supposed to be studying.”

“Well I did it anyway.”

Alfred sighs in exasperation. “Mattie, I like cooking, okay? I don’t do it just because I’m the omega in the house.” He knows Matthew is a product of the radically egalitarian way they’ve been raised as much as he himself is, but sometimes his little brother has weird ideas about what Alfred should and shouldn’t do as an omega. But he likes cooking. Alfred’s mind flashes to Mr. Kirkland and his little girl from a few days ago. Steamed carrots… that poor kid. Alfred would have protested too.

There’s noise from near the front door indicating their dad is home.

“Boys!” Brandon calls out.

“We’re in the kitchen,” Alfred and Matthew call back simultaneously.

Brandon strides into the kitchen, beaming, and hugs Alfred so hard that his feet come off the ground. "I have great news for you, Alfie," he announces as he releases his son. He places both hands firmly on Alfred's shoulders. "A client has agreed to let you manage their project!"

"No fucking way!" Alfred exclaims, his face breaking into a similar beaming grin, but he winces when his dad gives him a pointed look. "Right. Sorry. Language. So... who is the client?" Alfred tenses excitedly, it has to be him, right?

"Arthur Kirkland," Brandon says.

“Sweet!” Alfred cheers. So Mr. Kirkland is really as open-minded and relaxed as he had seemed to be. He certainly hadn't hovered over Alfred's shoulder or questioned his capability even by insinuation. And his daughter is so adorable. Alfred has been waiting for ages for this chance and Mr. Kirkland seems very calm and composed and he has great taste, so he's likely to be an awesome client.

It definitely doesn't hurt that he's so handsome, either, but the most important thing is to do the job exceptionally well. Alfred is always aware that he has more to prove than others.

Matthew frowns from his spot by the stove. "Hey wait, isn't he that unmated alpha? Dad, are you crazy? And you," he brandishes a cheese covered spoon at his older brother. "You're crazy for sure. You know the most likely reason why an unmated alpha would want to work with you, don't you?"

Anger rises up in Alfred cheeks, turning even his ears red. "Well I guess it definitely can't be because I know what I'm doing or because I'm good at my job!"

Matthew turns and frowns at the macaroni. "You have literally no sense of self-preservation," he mutters.

“That’s enough, you two,” Brandon warns, placing his hand on the back of Matthew’s neck and stares him down. “First of all, your brother can take care of himself,” he says. “Second of all, is that how you would behave, Matthew? Are you saying you’re the kind of alpha that would take advantage of an omega the way you’re insinuating?”

“No, never!” Matthew protests, also instinctively bending in deference to the leader of their house.

“Damn right. And third of all, I wouldn’t have asked Mr. Kirkland if I thought he had any bad intentions. Are we clear?”

Matthew nods. “Yes, sir,” he responds firmly.

Brandon releases him only to ruffle his hair. “I know you’re just looking out for your brother. It’s alright.” He then turns to Alfred. “Alfred. You still need to be careful, got it? I know how you feel about suppressants—”

Alfred folds his arms over his chest and scowls.

“—don’t give me that look. I’d really like you to consider at least wearing scent patches around Mr. Kirkland, please.”

“I’ll think about it,” Alfred concedes.

Matthew smirks smugly at Alfred behind their dad’s back.

Alfred flips him off. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. He can’t help but grin all the way upstairs. His first solo project and it’s such an extensive overhaul of such an amazing house and the client is sure to be great to work with.

But… what Matthew said needles at him. What if Mr. Kirkland actually does have bad intentions toward him? It couldn’t be the case, could it? Alfred smiles when he remembers Charlotte and how bright she is and even though it has been a few days, Alfred can still clearly remember Mr. Kirkland’s scent, an ancient forest, dewy and clean.

There is no way Arthur Kirkland is the kind of alpha Matthew always worries about.

Alfred settles into his determination: Mr. Kirkland agreed to let Alfred head his renovation because he believes Alfred will do a good job… and not for any reason that Matthew thinks. Alfred will prove it.

—

Arthur returns home from his meeting with Brandon just before Charlotte gets home from school. He sits on the porch with his bass, strumming a few chords idly. With all of the moving, he hasn’t had much chance to play.

“Daddy!” Charlotte exclaims when the bus drops her off. She bounds toward him, drops her backpack on the porch steps and sits right at his side. “What are you playing? Are you writing something?”

Arthur leans over and kisses the top of her head and tucks her close to him. “No, love, not at the moment. But I have some good news!”

Charlotte springs back and gives him an expectant grin. “What is it?”

Arthur strums the instrument softly. “The renovations of our house will begin on Monday.”

Charlotte dramatically flops over and sighs in relief. “Finally!” she exclaims.

Arthur musses her hair. “Oi. Behave,” he says, tweaking her nose lightly. “I know it’s been frustrating for you; you’ve been a very good girl and I appreciate you. But yes, we are finally getting started, so on Monday after school, Grammy Lucy will pick you up and then I’ll bring over your things. So this weekend we have to pack, understood?”

Charlotte nods enthusiastically. “Is Alfred going to help us fix the house?” she asks, eyes bright.

Taken slightly aback, Arthur tentatively nods his head. “Er. Yes, he is, but—”

“And if I’m not here, how will you know how I want my room to be?”

Arthur ruffles her hair again. “You can tell me or write it down or draw it for me and I’ll sort it out.”

Charlotte scrunches her nose for just a second. “But what if you get it wrong? Isn’t it better if I tell Alfred myself?”

Arthur raises an eyebrow at her. “Lottie, I know that you like him, but you want the renovations to be done as soon as possible, don’t you? He’ll be here to work, not play. The fewer distractions that he and his team have, the faster the house will be finished.”

Charlotte scrunches her nose and it stays scrunched this time. “I won’t be a distraction!” She pouts. “I’ll be good, I promise! I won’t get in the way. You said it’s my room and I can make it however I want.”

Arthur sighs. She’s definitely going to be an alpha, he’s certain of it. “I did say that. Yes. Very well, but” he holds up his hand when her eyes light up and she starts to speak, “wait— but the rest of the time, you will be with Grammy Lucy. Once the construction beings, I’ll be there too, alright?”

Charlotte nods happily. “Yup. Thank you, Daddy!” She slides off of the couch and dashes up the stairs, not doubt to start making plans.

Arthur shakes his head, but smiles. Of course, it’s then he realizes that before anything begins, he’ll have to explain his own plans to Alfred and… they are quite extensive. He sincerely hopes Alfred is up to the challenge.