#Grilling Tips For First-Timers

[grillpartshub-blog]

Grilling Tips For First-Timers & How To Use A Gas Grill? we’ll cover everything you need to know to get started, from choosing the right grill to mastering essential grilling techniques. For More Details

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #6

CH6. Spilled Milk | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

The diner was busy. 

Too busy. In fact, it was chaotic. An unusual brunch time rush on the hottest Saturday in August. The first in the month and the official marking of your two month birthday at Jim’s Grill. Not that it mattered, no one was able to celebrate it, not even yourself. 

A greyhound and a private coach had pulled into the parking lot within ten minutes of each other, tourists pouring out of them in big families, clusters of hikers, campers and back water town enthusiasts ready to order everything from the menu. Jim had lit up at the sight, the bell above the diner door jingling over and over and over again, before the man looked at Eddie through the hatch and his face fell into a panicked expression. 

“Shit.”

Steve was already smiling until his cheeks ached, his customer service voice ringing out through the din of the crowd as he tried his best to get everyone seated, him and Jonathan pushing tables together to cater for the family that arrived with seven kids in tow. 

Jim was on the phone in his office, barking out orders before they turned into pleas, the garish orange receiver clutched between two hands before he closed his eyes, mouthed a prayer and then pumped his fist in the air. Twenty minutes later, Dustin Henderson was storming through the diner with two other teens trailing behind him, looking far more begrudging about whatever they’d obviously been roped into. 

Hopper handed them aprons and promised, “cash in hand at the end of the night and an extra twenty if you get through this without breaking anything.”

A deal was made and soon, a red headed girl called Max Mayfield was flying between tables on bright green roller skates, bussing tables with a bored expression on her freckled face. Behind her, Jonathan’s little brother Will was delivering trays of drinks, narrowly avoiding Dustin as he brought Eddie’s famous stacked burgers out by the dozen. 

It was chaos. It was too warm, and god, it was so loud. But fuck, the tips were great. Your apron was stuffed with bills and order tickets, your fingertips red from the amount of times you’d caught them between the metal clips you hung them from above Eddie’s station. It was too busy to talk, to chat and flirt quietly in this new way you’d both grown brave enough to do. The boy was frazzled, side by side with Argyle by the grill as the flipped patties and fried eggs and bacon, a new batch of rolls dangerously close to burning in the oven. The timer was screaming, something else was buzzing, the workstations were the messiest you’d ever seen them and there was a puddle of spilled milk by the door. 

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out amongst the noise, eyes wide at the orders sitting by the hatch still to be delivered. Nancy and Robin were taking plates six at a time, hands and arms full, their balance nothing short of impressive. “Eddie, sorry, but table six wanted extra hash browns with their brunch combo not an egg—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before Eddie was taking the plate from you and sliding the perfectly fried egg into the trash. He barely looked at you, something you tried not to frown at because his mouth was set in a strained line and there were beads of sweat gathering at curls on his forehead. “Argyle, time on those hash browns?” Eddie barked, eyes still on the burgers he was placing cheddar slices on top of. 

Argyle was scraping crispy potato pieces around the griddle, salt and pepper and some other spices poured on top as he worked at breakneck speed. “Three minutes, chef,” Argyle called back and Eddie grunted in return. 

You felt stupid, standing there aimlessly with a customer's plate in your hand and before you could get out of the way, Eddie was moving you himself. Big, wide hands on the tops of your arms, guiding you out of the path of the door just before Steve burst through it. He narrowly missed the spilled milk. 

“Door!” He yelled a fraction later than he should’ve. Eddie glared at him. “Corner! Fuck, where’s the fucking syrups? Eddie? Ed! Where’s the syrup!”

You watched Eddie squeeze his eyes shut before he groaned, killing the heat on the grill just as Argyle appeared at your side to slide the freshly cooked hash browns onto the plate. You smiled, grateful. “Thank you.”  

“Open your fuckin’ eyes, man! They’re on the shelf!” Eddie was furiously wiping his hands on his stained chef whites, a dish towel tucked into the ties of his apron as he started assembling burger after burger. 

Bun. Sauce. Patty. Cheese. Bacon. More sauce. Lettuce. Pickles. Tomato. Fried egg. Perfect yolk. Crispy onions. More sauce. Bun. 

“What shelf?!” Steve yelled back, the pantry contents rattling as he pushed his way past huge bags of sugar and jars of homemade jam. “Eddie, it’s not fucking there!”

Robin barged in the door, not announcing her arrival to anyone and the edge of it slammed Argyle as he walked past carrying piles of grease filled frying pans. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry dude!” Eddie glared at her. “Door?” She said weakly. 

“Why is everyone in my fuckin’ kitchen!” Eddie yelled and diners closest to the hatch peered in at him, disapproving expressions on their faces as their kids with ketchup smeared chins laughed. “Buckley! What is it?”

“There’s like, seven tables asking for maple syrup. Where is it?”

Everyone groaned, eyes rolling and Eddie threw his hands to the ceiling. “It’s on the fuckin’ shelf, but Harrington is too blind to see them. Christ, Argyle, start getting these burgers out, Harrington fuckin’ move man—”

It all happened a bit too fast, that’s all. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, not really. Just a classic case of spilled milk. No need to cry over it, right? That’s what they said. 

Argyle dumped the pans into the sink with a crash, slipping between you and Eddie’s workstation as he tried to get to the burgers before they went cold. Eddie was pushing past Robin to get to Steve who was still arguing and well, Robin might’ve stepped forward at the same time you stepped back to avoid Argyle. Plateful of hash browns held high, you tried to stop them from falling. You tried not to elbow Argyle in the face and god, you tried really hard not to completely crash into Robin despite the way her shoulder caught yours. 

You stepped back again, someone yelled ‘door!’ and the sound of Max’s roller blades ripped through onto the kitchen tiles, sending everyone into a loud panic. Your foot found the puddle of milk, sneakers slipping through the liquid and the inevitable happened. 

There was an awful crack when your head hit the worktop on the way down. Ass hitting the tiles, a horrible spine numbing pain licking up your back. The bones in your hips tingled with it before tears sprung to your eyes as a searing pain set in everywhere at once. You heard the kitchen go quiet for just a second, a blissful peace before the plate you’d been holding finally joined you on the floor and smashed into a hundred different pieces. Argyle’s perfectly crispy hash browns skittered under the workstation and you heard someone swear. 

Then everyone was clamouring at once, hands hesitated to touch you as you brought your own to the back of your head and held it there. There was a strange kind of heat to it that made you hope it wasn’t blood, but you were too scared to look. Milk seeped into your wrinkled sock, your legs splayed out in front of you like a forgotten doll, but you didn’t feel half as pretty as one. You gazed mournfully at the smashed plate and couldn’t help the way your bottom lip twisted and trembled. God, your head hurt. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, shit— I’m sorry, I should’ve said I was coming in, right?”

“It’s fine Max, it’s not your fault—”

“How many fingers am I holding up? Can you stand? Hey, who’s the president—?”

“Lil’ Chicago slice got laid out.”

“Everyone move.”

Eddie’s voice rang out the loudest, clear and gruff with an authoritative tone that bordered on scary. Everyone listened, the kitchen and its team quietening down again when they all saw how you winced at the noise. Eddie pushed past Steve, and Robin, dropping down to hunker next to you. His brows were stitched together with concern and he tutted softly at the tear slipping down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed, but his thumb brushed it away before anyone else could see. 

He murmured your name and it sounded like a question you were supposed to answer, so you hummed, face scrunched up as more sharp needles of pain prickled at the back of your skull. Your hand was still pressed to it, scared to let go as if your whole head would simply roll off of your neck. 

But Eddie’s hand curled around your wrist and he tugged gently, murmuring words of nonsense that were nothing more than soft placations. With a bit of coaxing, you let him take your hand away and you slammed your eyes shut before you could look. No one hissed or gasped, so it seemed safe enough. 

But still, you asked, “there’s no blood, right?”

The boy gave you a soft smile as everyone circled closer to peer at your hand. “Nah,” Eddie told you reassuringly. “No blood, you’ll live.” Then he was cupping your chin in his hand, thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth and his brow wrinkled with more concern. “Can I take a look though?”

You wanted to say no. All this fuss and attention was making you feel too hot, embarrassment from falling starting to roll in with the pain and it mixed in your stomach to create an awfully uncomfortable concoction. Steve and Robin were still gazing down at you, eyes wide with shock and Max looked stricken with guilt, as if she thought her coming into the kitchen unannounced caused this. Argyle was already moving between everyone, sweeping broken pieces of plate and squished food out of the way. 

But you nodded and let Eddie peer at the back of your head. His hands gentle as he turned you this way and that, parting your hair so he could look for any cuts. He whistled at the sight of a bump and ran his thumb over it softly. You winced and he murmured a sorry before squeezed your knee, a comforting thing that Robin raised her brows at. 

“Think you can stand?” Eddie asked. 

You didn’t get a chance to answer, because Hopper was bursting through the doors with a red face and seven ticket orders clutched in his hand. “Why is half my staff on the kitchen fucking floor?” He yelled. “It’s crazy out there! What’s going on?”

You brought your knees to your chest as Steve explained what had happened, gesturing to the puddle of milk, the broken pieces of plate in the trash. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off you, even when you winced in embarrassment and tried to hide your face in your hands. 

You heard Jim sigh and then he was clapping his hands and demanding that Steve and Robin went back to the dining floor. “There’s four tables waitin’ for coffee, never mind food, c’mon! And Max— Jesus, Maxine, take those skates off before someone else ends up with a concussion.”

Argyle was sent back to the grill before Hop patted Eddie on the shoulder and told him to do the same. Eddie screwed up his face, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What? No, Hop, someone’s gotta take her home.”

“Ed—” you started to interrupt, mortified at the idea of causing an upset. 

Hop laughed, not meanly, just amused. “And what? You think you should be the one to take her, Casanova? You’re the only guy I got here that knows how to cook an omelette, you’re not going anywhere Munson.”

Eddie’s ears burned with the quip, cheeks flushed pink and he scowled at his boss, uncaring about the repercussions. But his attention was quickly stolen by you as you made an attempt to move, standing shakily as you protested that you were fine. The boy scoffed, holding your forearms so you could grip his, knuckles white as the shock of it all set in. 

You did feel a little dizzy. 

“She’s not going back out there to take orders,” Eddie told the older man as they both looked at your peaky expression, your glassy eyes. 

“Well, I ain’t got the bodies to get someone to take her home, kid,” Hop shrugged regretfully. “Wayne at the garage?”

“Fishing trip,” Eddie answered sourly. “Here, c’mon, sit down, yeah?” He guided you to the stool by his station and helped you onto it, eyes filled with concern as you clutched the edge of the worktop and closed your eyes. “Should we be callin’ a doctor?” Eddie asked Hop. 

“Don’t you dare,” you managed to bark at him, even though your voice sounded shaky. “I’m fine. I’ll just, I’ll just sit for a bit.”

You couldn’t hear what the two men were whispering about, but embarrassment told you it was most definitely about you. You only looked up when someone set a glass of water in front of you and you smiled in thanks at Argyle before he squeezed your shoulder and went back to flipping pancakes. 

“Drink that, please,” Eddie mumbled softly as he appeared by your side. Hopper had left, standing awkwardly in the middle of the diner instead of his office as he wrote down orders listed off by a frantic Nancy. “Okay, we’ve come to an agreement.”

You snorted into your glass. “We have?” You asked as you wiped at your lips. 

“Hop’s gonna take over and I’ll drive you home when this place finally calms down. Or we run out of eggs, whatever comes first.”

You rolled your eyes but the action was fond, just like the smile on your lips. You could barely bring yourself to look up at the boy for fear of giving too much away in your gaze, but when you did, you saw the same softness in Eddie’s own expression. “You don’t have to do that,” you told him. “I’ll just sit for a bit and then walk home.”

Eddie snorted and began chopping slices of tomatoes at a speed your eyes could barely keep up with. “No you fuckin’ won’t,” he told you. “Part of this agreement was that you park your cute ass where I can see you. No passing out in the walk-in, alright?”

You tried not to dwell on the compliment too much. Weeks had passed since the night you’d gotten high with the boy, too close on his bed, too close to doing something that was interrupted. You’d been back to the Munson trailer since, but you spent evenings on the sofa with both Eddie and Wayne, yelling at Alex Trebek and trying out new dishes that Eddie created for late nice dinners. No other attempt at a kiss - if that’s what had been about to happen. No other attempt at asking for a date - if that’s what the boy had been about to say. 

“Are there any other conditions to this agreement?” You asked, wincing when Argyle dropped a pot into the sink. “Or did you just sell my soul to Jim without me knowing?”

Eddie laughed as he threw some mushroom halves onto the grill, dropping in some butter until they sizzled. “Sweetheart, c’mon now, you did that yourself when you agreed to work in his hellhole.” Eddie moved away just for a few seconds, long enough to return with a new glass of ice water that he replaced your empty one with. “But he did say you’re not allowed to sue him.”

You smiled, laughing weakly because your head still throbbed and the diner was too loud but Eddie Munson was grinning at you with his dimples on show and a stray curl falling into his big, brown eyes. 

“Damn,” you tried to joke. “There goes my plan.”

—————

You’d been slumped on the stool for the best part of two hours before someone roused you from your semi sleeping state. Heels of your hands pressed to your closed eyes, the sounds of the diner sounding further and further away as you let yourself be lulled into haze by the sounds of Eddie and Argyle talking over the sizzle of the grill, the popping of bacon, the whir of a whisk. 

Then, a palm on your back, wide and warm. You startled only slightly, sitting up and reappearing from behind your hands to see a bowl of soup being slid in front of you. A deep red, flecked with cracked black pepper and smelling like tomato and basil. There was a swirl of some cream in the centre, artfully placed, and a spoon was dipped into the middle of it. 

“Eat up,” Eddie instructed softly. “Then I can try ‘n’ find you some Advil or somethin’, Nancy probably got some stashed somewhere.”

You eyed the soup with a sudden greed, mouth watering at the aroma, your fingers finding the spoon. “You didn’t even ask if I was hungry,” you gently scolded the boy. 

Eddie knew what it meant. ‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’

“Don’t start,” he grumbled back, already going back to cracking more eggs into a bowl. Only six this time, which meant service must’ve been slowing. “You’ve had a coffee and half a slice of toast all day, eat your fuckin’ soup.”

You knew what that meant too. ‘You’re welcome. Please eat, so I stop worrying.’

So you ate and Eddie made omelettes, folding each so meticulously that you couldn’t help but watch. Butter on top, chives diced, fresh tomato and Italian ham in the middle. He knew you were staring, he always did. But now he smiled instead of scowled, let his gaze flicker to you every time he put his knife down and he nodded appreciatively when your spoon scraped the last of the soup from the bowl.

“Good?” He asked like always, sliding the omelette dishes out of the hatch for Steve to deliver to the waiting tables.

Jim was back in the office and the younger kids were long gone, sent home with leftover doughnuts from the pastry cabinet and an extra twenty in each of their back pockets. Regular slowness has resumed. Only Mr Creel sat at the bar, under the television as always, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee he wouldn’t let Jonathan refill. There was a family at one table, an older couple at another, and three teens sharing a plate of fries in a booth at the back. 

You nodded, humming. “So good, Eddie. Best soup I’ve had.”

Eddie grinned and tried to hide it, bashful and pink in the face at your praise. There was a lull in the kitchen as Argyle disappeared into the walk-in and for the first time that day, there was nothing on the grills in danger of burning. So the boy cleared his station and leant his elbows on it, so close to you that you could let your hand touch his, if you’d felt brave enough. 

“How’s the head?” 

You made a face at the reminder, reaching back to gingerly feel at the small lump there, tender and embarrassing. “It’s fine,” you told him. “Just another injury for the collection.”

Eddie snorted, knowing about your bumps and bruises you’d gathered working in the diner. You were insistent someone was moving table eight a few inches to the right each day, just to fuck with you and your hip. “Gonna have to keep you in a bubble.”

You smiled, “can’t feed me in a bubble, Munson.”

Another grin from Eddie, shy and pretty and so incredibly genuine. The boy that had scowled at you from the minute you’d appeared now couldn’t hide how happy you seemed to make him. Pink cheeks and dimples, a shine to his eyes that made your knees a little weak and you wanted to tell him then, right there, kiss me please. 

Kiss me without smoke between us, kiss me without having an excuse to be close. Kiss me ‘cause you want to. 

“Yeah, yeah you’re right, that seems— that would be, uh, less than ideal,” Eddie coughed, suddenly nervous. He straightened up and took his hands away from the counter, away from any ideas you had about holding them in your own. “I could, uh, I could - y’know - ask you if you wanted to grab dinner later, instead.”

You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. You didn’t say anything, you just blinked and your silence urged Eddie to fill it, so he rambled on further, voice coming out rushed and a little rough. “Like, I mean, so I can make sure, you know… you eat. God. And you don’t hit your head again, ‘cause you could totally have a concussion and that would su—”

“Eddie?” You interrupted, heart beating too fast, your chest too tight. It felt like it was ready to crack in two, ready to bloom. Excitement was caught in your throat, maybe hope. “Are you asking me on a date?”

The boy faltered and then smiled, a dopey, lopsided thing that you were sure was the most endearing sight you’d ever come across. Those cheeks went pink again and suddenly he was the furthest thing from the grumpy line cook that grunted his greetings to everyone. But maybe, you guessed, he just didn’t do that to you. 

“I’m definitely trying to, yeah.” Eddie grinned then, only once he saw your smile too. 

Giddy, feeling like a schoolgirl with her first crush, you squinted at him, eyes crinkling in the corners with a new type of joy. You wanted to laugh at his attempt, his shyness for a change instead of your own but you couldn’t keep it together. You were bursting at the seams, chest splintering as the butterflies roared. You felt breathless, you felt warm, you felt like you could look at yourself in the mirrored edge of a frying pan and watch yourself glitter. 

“I’d love to,” you told him, soft, quiet, happy. 

The boy lazed back against the worktop, the stainless steel between you littered with spilled sugar and the lonely top of a carrot. He played with the edge of his dish towel that was tucked into the front of his apron, narrowed his eyes at you comically and tried to contain his own grin. He was beaming. 

“You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re concussed, right?”

You laughed, a bright, sharp sound and you shook your head. “I’m not concussed.” You hummed, happy. “And even if I was, I’d still wanna go on a date with you.”

Eddie looked brighter than the sun. 

—————

That evening, Eddie picked you up outside your apartment with freshly washed curls and a shirt that didn’t have any rips in it. 

His boots were clean and his jeans weren’t creased and you’d have said something about it all if you weren’t as nervous as he looked. With what appeared to be a permanent flush on his cheeks, he hopped out the van as he saw you lock up, jogging round the front so he could open the door for you. 

“You look nice,” he murmured as he helped you in, his hand holding yours, his gaze unable to stop from wandering over all the bare thigh your dress showed off. 

A summery thing, cherry red with a hem that erred on the side of almost too short, with short sleeves and a pretty frilled neckline. It was lower than your uniform, showing off more skin and cleavage than he’d ever seen before. You’d changed seven times between getting out of the shower and watching the window for Eddie’s van, throwing your rejected outfits on your bedroom floor as you stood in your pyjama shirt, wondering if it was far too presumptuous to change into your best lace underwear. 

The butterflies inside your ribcage were rattling. 

“Thank you,” you answered politely and you let yourself look at him too, like you were allowed to now. He still had the rings he wore outside of the kitchen, a plain black T-shirt that smelled like he always did, like lemongrass and freshly spritzed cologne. “You look nice too.”

He went pink at your words and duked his chin to hide his smile. And when he got back into the driver's seat, you looked at him expectantly, nervously. 

“So, uh, there’s only really one place to go for food in this town,” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly and he smiled, nose scrunched. “And rumour has it, the chef is out on a hot date…”

You laughed, tension broken for a second or two and you hummed, nodding. “Hot date, huh?”

Eddie nodded furiously, letting his eyes dip to look over your bare legs, the short hem of your dress, scarlet against your skin. He looked bravely, not trying to hide it the way he used to. “The hottest,” he confirmed. 

“Where are you taking me then?” you asked softly, leaning your cheek against the seat. It was dangerous looking at him like this, like you wanted him, like you were over trying to hide it. Your workplace crush had bloomed into something else, something more and it made your chest ache.

“Wayne’s not home,” Eddie replied just as soft, just as quiet. His gaze kept falling to your mouth, the way it turned up in the corners. “I have it on good authority that the food at Casa Munson is top tier.”

It made your stomach flip, the idea of being alone with the boy. It barely happened, a rarity, really. The butterflies in your stomach were pushing at your bones, gnawing to get out. You were dizzy with it. 

“Yeah?” you smiled at him, putting Eddie’s own nerves at ease. “Think you could get us a table?”

[explorewithkunal]

Essential Travel Tips for an Unforgettable Visit to Port Blair

Port Blair, the vibrant capital of the Andaman and Nicobar Islands, offers a unique blend of scenic beauty, historical significance, and cultural richness. Whether you're drawn to its pristine beaches, historical landmarks, or lively local culture, Travel tips for Port Blair has something for everyone. To make the most of your trip to this stunning island city, it’s essential to plan ahead and immerse yourself in all it has to offer Honeymoon in Andaman Nicobar. Here are ten indispensable travel tips to ensure your visit to Port Blair is smooth, enjoyable, and memorable.

1. Plan Ahead

For first-timers visiting Port Blair, careful planning is key to a successful trip. Start by researching the main attractions and creating a rough itinerary. Decide how many days you’ll spend in Port Blair and consider the logistics of getting around. Think about booking accommodations well in advance, especially if you’re visiting during peak season. This preparation will help you maximize your time on the island and ensure a hassle-free experience. By knowing what to expect and having a clear plan, you'll be able to relax and fully enjoy the beauty and charm of Port Blair.

2. Secure Permits

When exploring Port Blair and the surrounding Andaman Islands, remember that some areas require special permits, particularly regions where indigenous tribal communities reside. These permits can typically be obtained online or through authorized travel agents. It’s crucial to secure these permits in advance to avoid any last-minute complications. Understanding the specific requirements for the areas you plan to visit will save you time and ensure a smooth journey. This step is especially important if you intend to explore restricted zones or engage in activities that necessitate special permissions.

3. Currency Exchange

While Port Blair has several facilities for currency exchange, it's wise to carry some cash in addition to your credit cards. Local markets and smaller establishments may not accept card payments. You can exchange currency at the airport or designated exchange centers in tourist areas. However, be mindful of exchange rates and additional fees. Planning your finances and having enough cash on hand will make your trip more convenient and enjoyable. This approach ensures that you’re prepared for any situation, from market shopping to tipping service providers.

4. Pack Light

Given the warm and humid climate of Port Blair, packing light and comfortable clothing is essential. Opt for breathable fabrics and include essentials like sunscreen, hats, and sunglasses to protect yourself from the sun. Sturdy walking shoes are also recommended for exploring the island’s varied terrain. A day bag with water bottles, snacks, and a camera will be useful for day trips. By packing smartly, you’ll be ready to enjoy Port Blair’s outdoor activities without being weighed down by unnecessary items.

5. Stay Hydrated

The tropical climate of Port Blair means staying hydrated is crucial. Always carry a refillable water bottle and make use of designated refill stations around the island. This is especially important when engaging in outdoor activities or spending time on the beach. Coconut water, readily available from local vendors, is a refreshing alternative to keep you hydrated. Keeping yourself well-hydrated will ensure you stay energized and healthy throughout your trip, allowing you to fully appreciate all that Port Blair has to offer.

6. Embrace Local Cuisine

Port Blair’s culinary scene is a delightful blend of Indian, Southeast Asian, and local indigenous flavors. Make it a point to try the seafood curries, grilled fish, and coconut-based dishes from street vendors and local restaurants. Must-visit eateries include Annapurna Restaurant and New Lighthouse Restaurant, known for their delicious seafood platters. Embracing the local cuisine will enhance your travel experience and give you a deeper appreciation of the island’s cultural diversity. These culinary adventures will undoubtedly be among the highlights of your trip.

7. Respect Local Customs

Respecting local customs and traditions is important when visiting Port Blair. Dress modestly when visiting religious sites and always remove your shoes before entering. It’s also courteous to ask for permission before photographing people, especially in tribal areas. By showing respect for local customs, you’ll foster positive interactions and gain deeper insights into the local culture. This respectful approach not only enriches your experience but also contributes to preserving the cultural integrity of the communities you visit.

8. Explore Cellular Jail

A visit to Cellular Jail, also known as Kala Pani, is a must for history enthusiasts. This historic prison is a poignant reminder of India’s struggle for independence. Inside, you can explore exhibits that depict the harsh conditions endured by freedom fighters. The light and sound show held in the evening provides a deeper understanding of the jail’s history and significance. This immersive experience offers valuable insights into India’s colonial past and the sacrifices made for freedom. It’s a profound and moving experience that shouldn’t be missed.

9. Connect with Nature at Corbyn’s Cove Beach

For a relaxing day by the sea, head to Corbyn’s Cove Beach, just a short drive from Port Blair. The beach’s golden sands and clear waters make it ideal for swimming, sunbathing, and water sports like jet skiing. You can also enjoy a leisurely walk along the palm-fringed shoreline or simply relax and soak in the serene beauty. This beach is perfect for unwinding and enjoying the natural beauty of Port Blair. It’s an idyllic spot to escape the hustle and bustle and reconnect with nature.

10. Witness History at Ross Island

Ross Island, once the administrative headquarters for the British in the Andaman Islands, is a fascinating destination for history lovers. The island’s colonial-era ruins, including the Chief Commissioner’s House and the British Officer’s Quarters, are surrounded by lush greenery and friendly deer. A guided tour will provide insights into the island’s historical significance and its role during the British colonial period. Exploring Ross Island offers a unique blend of history and nature, making it a compelling addition to your Port Blair itinerary.

Conclusion

Port Blair is a captivating destination that offers a rich tapestry of experiences, from historical landmarks and cultural encounters to natural beauty and culinary delights. By following these essential travel tips, you’ll be well-prepared to make the most of your visit. Whether you’re exploring the historic Cellular Jail, relaxing on Corbyn’s Cove Beach, or savoring local cuisine, each moment in Port Blair promises to be memorable. So, plan ahead, respect local customs, and immerse yourself in all that this remarkable island city has to offer. Your adventure in Port Blair awaits, filled with unforgettable experiences and lasting memories.

[selectrestorationtoronto]

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🔥 Avoid wearing loose clothing or dangling sleeves while cooking.

🔥 Keep kids away from cooking areas by enforcing a "kid-free zone" of three feet around the stove.

🔥 Keep away anything that can catch on fire—pot holders, oven mitts, wooden utensils, paper or plastic bags, food packaging, and towels or curtains.

🔥 Clean cooking surfaces regularly to prevent grease buildup.

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[younggentlemenpost]

The spicy hotdog sausage fueling French protests

Protesting in France is a hungry business, and when the country’s angry citizens put down their placards, they seek out sustenance.

Not for classic French cuisine though. Above all else, demonstrators demand spicy hotdog sausages.

Beef and lamb merguez sausages, spiced with cumin, chile or harissa to recipes imported from North Africa, are the food of the streets in France – and not just in the recent protests against pension age reform that have spread through the country.

There was merguez in May 1968 when student uprisings whetted appetites for revolution and there was merguez in ’95, when furious crowds tore apart plans for welfare reform.

When yellow vest-wearing “gilet jaune” protesters brought parts of France to halt in 2018 to demand political and economic change, the grills were fired up once again and out came the sausages.

Such was the meaty role played by merguez in keeping the gilet jaune movement nourished that they were labeled a “revolutionary tool” by François Ruffin, a French politician seen as a contender to lead the far left at the country’s next election.

The sausage’s role in helping fuel this year’s sometimes violent protests was observed by academic Emmanuelle Reungoat.

A maitresse de conférence – or associate professor – of political sciences at the university of Montpelier, Reungoat spent time meeting with demonstrators and observed that many first-timers joined in because it was an opportunity to hang out with friends and enjoy a barbecue.

“They brought with them their usual leisurely habits and that’s interesting because that is also what makes a massive social movement,” Reungoat told CNN. “A social movement can tip into an uprising or a revolution.”

[your-dietician]

2023 BMW M2 First Look: M3 Power Without the Weird M3 Looks

New Post has been published on https://medianwire.com/2023-bmw-m2-first-look-m3-power-without-the-weird-m3-looks/

2023 BMW M2 First Look: M3 Power Without the Weird M3 Looks

Remember when the current BMW M3 and its flared nostrils was revealed for 2021 and we all began to worry that every new BMW beyond could wear ever more controversial styling? Well the 2023 BMW M2 coupe is here to challenge that assumption, trading the M3’s wild dual snorters for smaller, more traditionally sized kidney grilles. That’s good, even if everything else on the nose carries strangely blocky detailing relative to the regular 2 Series coupe. It might not be hugely attractive, but it lacks a focal point for haters to fixate on.

Anyway, even though the 2023 BMW M2 marks the second generation of the most brutish 2 Series coupe, it isn’t a complete blank-slate job. Just as BMW claims, the rest of the M2 package largely mirrors (and builds on) the “winning formula” of the previous model—taking some of the suspension and engine bits from the BMW M3/M4 and putting them in to the smaller 2 Series package.

M3 Power!

That means the new BMW M2 features the same S58 3.0-liter turbocharged inline-six engine found in various other M models. Here it is tuned for 453 horsepower—about 48 hp more than the previous model and 9 hp more than the 2020 BMW M2 CS, and just 20 hp shy of the base M4 coupe. Max torque is 406 ft-lb and is available between 2,650 and 5,870 rpm.

A six-speed manual gearbox will be standard equipment—yes!—and the M2’s available automatic switches from a dual-clutch unit to a traditional eight-speed torque-converter unit. Like other recent M models, the 2023 M2 comes with a few neat drivetrain tricks. A “Gear Shift Assistant” will automatically match revs for downshifts on the manual, and the Active M differential allows for several selectable driving modes. There are also 10 levels of DSC (dynamic stability control) intervention to choose from.

There also is an M Mode button, which is essentially puts track mode one steering-wheel-button-press away, reducing all the electronic babysitters in the pursuit of track performance. To keep track of said track performance is an M lap timer which is fairly self-explanatory—time yourself! More interesting to us is the return of the M Drift Analyzer which will actually record the duration, distance, and angle when the driver is sending it sideways; we’ve played with this in the new M3 and M4, and it’s an addictive way to up your spending on replacement rear tires.

Unfortunately, all of these new features and the tech-y new interior features like curved displays and eSIM capability (new to the regular 2 Series Coupes for 2023), all add weight. Therefore the new M2 coupe tips the scales at 3,814 pounds for the six-speed manual and 3,867 pounds when equipped with the eight-speed automatic; at least comparing the manual transmission versions, that represents a weight increase of about 300 pounds relative to the 2016 model. A carbon fiber roof can be optioned to shave a few pounds.

So, About that Design

OK, we’ve stalled long enough—it’s time to talk in greater depth about the 2023 BMW M2’s design. It isn’t a complete shock since the camo-wrapped prototype has already made the rounds, but now we can take in the full effect of the M2’s unique, highly three-dimensional façade.

The M2 mercifully does not inherit the current M3 and M4’s massive kidney grilles that dominate those cars’ front fascias, but they are frameless—meaning the body-color surrounds just sort of jarringly end where the grille opening begins. Easily the most noticeable features are the very prominent square intakes that flank the front air dam, quite a departure from the base 2 Series coupes’ triangular pieces. While not the worst of the modern BMW bunch, here’s our rub with the M2: The regular 2 Series Coupes represent a relative high point of styling restraint for the Bavarian brand, which places the fussier M2 in slightly less flattering relief.

Elements of the previous model can still be found in the 2023 M2’s overall appearance. It becomes especially apparent when looking at the 2023 M2 in profile. The short overhangs, wide wheel arches, and defined rear diffuser are all there. Visually, the small sports car looks about the same in all dimensions but at 180.3 inches long, 74.3 inches wide, and 55.2 inches tall, the new M2 is 4.1 inches longer than its predecessor, 1.3 inches wider, and 0.3 inches lower.

The 2023 M2 will offer five hues, with two of them being solid colors and the remaining three metallic finishes. The shade you see in the official release images is Toronto Red metallic. Black Sapphire metallic, Brooklyn Grey metallic, Alpine White, and the new exclusive Zandvoort Blue are among the available color options.

Before you jump to arguing on Reddit over the way this M2 looks, consider that it will have a base price of $63,195 when it launches early next year. That’s not much more than a loaded-out 382-hp M240i coupe, and it’s a few thousand bucks less than an entry-level, non-Competition-level M4, while being smaller and delivering similar power—and, based on our experience behind the wheel of an M2 prototype earlier this year, should provide an absolute riotous driving experience.

Read the full article here

[midnightbabylon]

Till The End Of The Line

summary: Almost 2 years after you split up with your ex-boyfriend Steve, you start a little affair with his best friend Bucky. Just as Bucky wants to confess his feelings for you, Steve comes to him to tell him he never got over you and wants to fight for you. So as not to betray his friend, Bucky breaks up with you to let Steve come first. But was that the right decision?

pairing: Bucky x fem!reader x Steve (ex boyfriend)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: lies, little heartbreak

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

“Y/N! Y/N!” How was it possible that through the loud music in the bar, you could still hear your friends. Laughing, you walked into the back of the grill. It was your regular bar where the four of you met every week. In the small niche sat your three best friends: James, Steve and BF/N. You guys were a great party of four. There were never any strange moods or arguments. Not when you and Steve got closer, or even had a relationship for five years. And not even when you broke up with Steve two years ago. Your friendship with each other has somehow become even stronger. “Hey, guys. It’s so good to see you. I’ve had such a shitty day.” James slipped a bit so you could squeeze on the red leather bench. “We already ordered your glass of wine.” Happily you sighed and leaned back. “I’d rather have a bottle, but thank you”. smiling you grabbed the glass with the red liquid and took a big sip of it. “What happened, your boss again?” James turned his head towards you and a short time later you felt his hand on your thigh. A few weeks ago, you and he had an affair. It felt good, right. For the first time in months, you felt really alive when you were with him. The problem was that Steve and BF/N didn’t know about it and that was supposed to stay that way for a while. You didn’t want to hide, just enjoy your togetherness as long as you could. You made rules. But now here in the bar so unashamedly touching you was not part of the plan. However, the heat shot right into your cheeks as his hand continued to stroke your thigh, moving higher and higher. Thank God it was dark in the bar and you were able to put it on the wine. So as not to be more conspicuous, you started to tell… Your evening ended as usual: you all stood outside and said goodbye before everyone got into his taxi. It was never noticeable that Steve and BF/N shared a taxi and you and James. So they didn’t know about your little secret. In the taxi, you finally let go of the tension and pulled the handsome man by his shirt towards you. Your lips bumped into each other and shortly thereafter the taxi was filled with breathless moans. You got out of the taxi with swollen lips, James tipped the driver enough before he took you upstairs as usual.

The alarm clock ripped you out of your wonderful dream. A deep, masculine groan sounded beside you. “Stay here, don’t go to work today.” He grumbled and pulled you closer to his warm chest. You giggled and kissed his forehead. “I don’t have a choice. Unlike you and Steve, I’m normal and I don’t make my money saving the world.” James pulled a pout and finally let you out of bed with a lot of argument. You made it to work just on time. You didn’t need a stand timer from your boss right at 8:00 in the morning. On your lunch break, you happened to run into Steve. “Hey you”. he greeted you with a smile and pulled you into a hug. “What are you doing here?” You sit on a bench near the park fountain and enjoy the sunshine. “Oh, I was in the neighborhood, you know. Helping virgins in need”. You both had to laugh. “Say, can I ask for your advice, it’s about a woman.” Now your ears were particularly sharp. Ever since you broke up, Steve’s private life has rarely come out. “Yeah, what’s up?” He played nervously with his fingers. “It’s been a while, but she was something special. I kind of never got over her. I know she’s still single since we last met. Do you think it helps to ask her out again?” At first an unpleasant feeling had spread in your stomach, but now you were pretty sure he couldn’t talk about you. Nodding, you encouraged him. “But of course. Everyone deserves a second chance.” He thanked you and you despise your rest of your lunch break talking about God and the world.

When James stood outside your door with Chinese food at night, it was the best time of the day. Since the beginning of your techtelmechtel, such a weekly evening had become a tradition. You guys were able to really relax together and didn’t have to worry about anything. However, the conversation with Steve had made you curious. Just as the movie was over, you moved a little away from your lover to get a good look at him. “You, have you and Steve talked about your love life lately?” The beautiful man’s forehead across the street was wrinkled. “No why?” “We met by chance today in the park and he actually came to me to ask for advice about a woman. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell me who she was. Do you have any idea?” James thought about it and finally replied, “He only had a relationship with a waitress named Leyla for a while. At least she’s the last one I know of.” Deep down in Bucky, it gave him a slight stab, why his best buddy didn’t talk to him about it, but to his ex, you.

A few days later, Bucky and Steve trained together for their next mission. The whole time, Bucky’s thoughts were buzzing about Steve and his desire for that date. Between the sets, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Hey, I heard from Y/N that you want to get back into the dating world.” Steve hesitated and packed the dumbbells back into the corresponding stand. “Why are you talking to Y/N about this and not to me? I thought we were best friends.” Steve scratched his head while Bucky grabbed his water bottle. “First of all, how do you know what Y/N and I were talking about?” Now Bucky had aroused Steven’s suspicion. “Secondly, I’ve been dragging the question around for a while and it was just there. And thirdly, I just wanted to confirm that she’s still single.” Bucky halted and spat the water almost into Steve’s face, but was able to hold back just like that. “What’s that?” asked Bucky, trying to cover up his shock. “Yes.” Steve sat down on one of the sports equipment. “It’s been two years since Y/N broke up with me. She absolutely had the right to, our relationship was at that point. She wasn’t happy anymore. I did some things wrong but…I never got away from her Buck.” Steve sighed and drove his hands over his face and the brunette got sick. But if he said anything right now, he’d be taking advantage of your trust. “I’ve tried, I’m almost desperate…but since she’s single and has explicitly told me that everyone has a second chance. I’m going to ask her to be with me again, what am I going to lose?” Steve wouldn’t lose anything, but Bucky knew what to do. And he knew what he was going to lose.

-A week later- When the ringing of your apartment door finally got you out of your mind, you had to grin wide. Today, you and Bucky were together for almost five months, and you finally wanted to say the L word to him. It felt right. Dinner arrived ten minutes ago, and James usually arrived on time. Not today. He also answered your messages very late today. Enthusiastically, you opened the door for him and invited him in. Since you had waited a long time for proper food you went straight into the kitchen so that you could start your evening immediately. “James come on. Why are you still standing there? Sit down or I’ll have to talk you out of it.” Your voice became seductive and Bucky took a tormented look on his face. “I can’t do this between us anymore.” Confused you look at him and let the Chinese food sink in your hands. The symbolic knife blade sat on your skin, ready to destroy you. “How can you not do that anymore?” Your voice was quieter than I thought. He stroked his chest briefly and cleared his throat. “I know we agreed to keep it a secret until we were comfortable with the idea of telling everyone else…but I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want to be your little secret anymore.” The knife’s blade went deeper into your skin and started to burn. “I don’t understand”. you muttered in dismay. “You’re not embarrassing to me, and above all, you’re not a little disgusting secret to keep. You know that. It was clear from the beginning when we revealed our feelings.” You walked up to him and wanted to put your hand to his cheek, but he held you by the wrist before you could touch him. “James”… Tears began to fill your eyes. “Is this all a joke? Is Sam going to jump out from behind the sofa with a camera and clear me up?” He gently pressed your hand down and shook his head. “It’s not a joke, I’m totally serious. It doesn’t work like that anymore. I’ve made my decision.” Now you had to shake your head in disbelief. “Because a relationship is also based on an individual’s decision.” Slowly but surely, your feelings were thrown into chaos. “This isn’t a relationship Y/N. We fuck.” Like a lump of butter, Bucky rammed the knife deep into your chest. “So that’s it for you? Just fucking? For 4 months…but certainly James.” Your voice defied only so full of distance and pain. He raised his hand. “From now on, please call me just Bucky okay?!.” Now he turned the knife in all directions. You were the only one besides Steve who was allowed to call him by his real first name. It was something special. Your thing. “This can’t be true. Within a few hours you throw everything away?! Earlier you were so happy about our weekly movie night and now you’re throwing our relationship at my feet?! Because of what, Bucky?! Is there another?” By now, tears were running down your cheeks. He breathed out loud. “God no.” He looked up and looked at you. “I don’t love you.” Now he had pulled out the knife and left you to bleed to death. “Get out!” you said quietly. “What do you mean?” he asked, looking almost insecure. “Get out of my apartment! Get out of my life! I never want to see you again!” You spit the last sentence at his feet. The anger already colored your cheeks red “Don’t worry about your things. You know where the door is”. You turned away from him and held back the loud sobbing in your throat. The last thing you had was his dark steps to the door and the closing lock. The wall inside you broke into a thousand pieces and left a bleeding heart. you slid to the ground and remained on the hard ground. Hours later you could only get up. You felt nothing. No pain. No hunger. No thirst. You could just drag yourself into bed before you fell asleep.

You spent the next few days in exactly this position in your bed. You couldn't eat, you couldn't drink, and you didn't feel like taking a shower. You were still wearing the same clothes you had worn that day. By now you must have stunk like hell, but who cared? There was no one here anyway. The next day, your best friend bombarded you with text messages.

BF/N: We absolutely have to go to the grill today. It's BBQ night. Hello? SOS. BF/N: If you don't answer in the next hour, I'll come to your house. You don't answer for days!!!

She made good on the threat. In addition to annoying, constant knocking, she rang up a storm. Annoyed, you yanked open the door. BF/N took one look at you. "What the hell do you look like?" Without asking if she could come in, she entered your apartment. "Oh God did an animal die here?!" she held her fingers under her nose. Then she spotted the live Chinese food. "Y/N what happened?" You were silent for a few minutes, but then the dam broke and you told her everything. "Well, you're finally spilling the beans." Confused, you drew your eyebrows together. "Oh come on Y/N. Everyone's seen the way you look at each other. You're practically undressing each other with looks. And those sneaky touches. They weren't as sneaky as you thought. A best friend sees that kind of thing." Surprised, you shook your head. "Why didn't you say something?" She sat down next to you on the couch. "I don't know if Steve wanted to see it. Because I think he's still mourning you." Now you shook your head vehemently. "No, I just talked to him the other day and he wanted to try again with an old flame." BF/N looked at you. "Does that ring a bell? You're his last Y/N too." "That can't be." To distract you from further thoughts, your best friend dragged you into the shower. Together, you went through your closet. She put makeup on you and did your hair before you were ready for a night out. The barbecue was well stocked as usual. Bo, the bartender greeted you and as you ordered drinks he said James and Steve were also somewhere in the crowd. You girls went to your alcove and ordered a barbecue platter. After you had eaten, Steve suddenly came around the corner. "Hey girls!" Smiling, you greeted each other one by one, and Steve looked at you urgently afterwards. "Can I talk to you outside for a second?" You and BF/N exchanged a look before following Steve out the door. From a distance, James watched the whole spectacle and he looked down as he felt a telltale tug in his heart. "Steve, what are you doing?" The night was starting to get chilly, so you crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Y/N I'll be honest with you. I..there was no one else. I was going to ask in a roundabout way if you were sigle and maybe still chasing our relationship the same way I was. Now that I know that, I want to ask you for a second chance. I never stopped loving you and-." "Stop." Steve took a step back as if you'd slapped him in the face. "What makes you think I'm single?!"

"Steve we've been broken up for over two years. I've had closure with you for a long time and you should too." The metal door opened and the man you loved stepped out. Your eyes met and you had to inhale heavily. "I don't love you anymore Steve…and in fact, I've lost my heart to someone else for almost five months now." Saying the words out loud hurt but at the same time it was a very freeing feeling. James mouth dropped open and he visibly swallowed. Steve looked back and forth between you and his best friend and he understood. "I was afraid to say it out loud because I didn't want to explain my feelings to my friends. I feel free, carefree, and happier than I have in a long time." Steve nodded gently. "He deserved you. You deserve each other. Now I understand your reaction too, and maybe I just didn't want closure and misunderstood little niceties. I'm so sorry." Steve walked up to you and squeezed your hand. He then turned to Bucky, "And you. How stupid can you be and break up with her when she's the best thing that could have happened to you. Because of me? Don't ever do something like that again. That was stupid, so stupid Buck." The brunette nodded and looked down at his shoes. "We're like brothers Steve, you don't do something like I did to a brother." Steve pulled him into a long hug. "You can't choose love Buck. Love is unpredictable. The two of us, till the end of the line." His ice blue eyes searched your gaze. Glassy eyed, you stared up at him. "Do the right thing." Whispered Steve before disappearing back into the grill. "Y/N I-." "I love you." The words left your mouth faster than you could think. Jaime's facial muscles twitched. "I was a coward to think it would be better to let you go. Because Steve's right. You're the best thing that could have happened to me, and I've loved you since the first second I saw you Y/N." A tear escaped from your eye and you jumped into his arms. Your lips met heatedly and all the emotions of the past few days clashed. "I want to hear it again. "he murmured against your lips. "I love you Bucky." "What was that?" Laughing you leaned your forehead against his. "I love you James."

[isfjmel-phleg]

I’ve shown you how to make a grilled cheese sandwich before; today we’re taking it a step further and making a five-way grilled cheese sandwich.

I don’t make this very often because it is rather extravagant. Used to order it at a restaurant my family used to go to that is unavailable to me now, had a hankering for it a while back, and found a copied recipe online.

Here’s what you’ll need:

Bread, preferably something a bit fancy (the recipe calls for sourdough but I can never find that at our grocery store)

Swiss cheese

Cheddar cheese

Mozzarella cheese

Jack cheese (you can vary these, but the important thing is to have four)

Parmesan cheese, shredded, not powdered

Butter, softened

Garlic (powder or minced or whatever you have)

Parsley flakes

Receptacle of some kind (I use a very small bowl) for the butter

Utensil to mix butter

Table knife

Two plates

Pan, large enough for two slices of bread

Spatula of sufficient wideness

Let’s get started.

First, mix the softened butter with whatever amount of garlic and parsley that the inscrutable exhortations of your soul dictate.

(I did this step another day and used leftovers today, so no picture here. Use your imagination.)

Put the pan on one of the burners of your oven and turn the burner on to about medium heat. The pan will warm while you assemble the sandwich.

(Your oven should look less blurry than this picture, yikes.)

Get out two slices of bread and put them on a plate. Spread one side of each slice with the butter.

Pour out some shredded parmesan cheese on another plate. Turn each slice of bread butter side down on the cheese and press gently so that the cheese will stick.

It should look something like this when you’re done.

Now here comes the tricky part. Move the bread to the pan, cheese side down. This requires carefulness not to get cheese everywhere en route. Some of it will inevitably come off in the pan as you set it down (see below), but if you’re careful, it’s possible to avoid too much of a mess.

Tip: if you arrange the bread as shown below, with the rounded tops outward and the bottoms aligned, it will be in the right position to flip over later.

You have to be very quick for this next part! On one slice of bread, put a slice of Swiss and a slice of cheddar. On the other, put a slice of mozzarella and a slice of jack.

I bought some jack cheese at the store but discovered when I got home that it had gone bad despite being unopened and unexpired, so I’m taking back to the store in indignation tomorrow and using an extra slice of mozzarella on this sandwich instead.

Set a timer for about two or two and a half minutes. The time may vary depending on your oven.

When the time is up and the bread is browned to your preference, use a spatula to flip one slice of bread on top of the other. The bread may seem to stick when you try to slide the spatula underneath; keep going, it’s the parmesan holding it down. It may be a bit difficult to get the top slice straight when flipping it over, but it’s okay if the sandwich is not perfectly aligned.

Return it to the plate and enjoy! This pairs nicely with a soup or salad.

[mickeymouse-moshpit]

Take Care

Hoo boy, I've written a second something. In my Star Wars renaissance during this pandemic, I have discovered an appreciation for medic Kix and I have very little shame about it. To those who know me in real life, I beg you to skip over this, or stop reading at the second set of asterisks. This started out as just drabble but soon turned into, how do I put this, filth. We’ve got brat-tamer!Kix and a very bratty newly employed doc reader. If you don’t want a lot of plot, skip to the second or third set of asterisks. 

Pairing: brat-tamer!Kix x fem!reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: pandemic themes, near death but no actual death, SMUT, some definite Dom/sub undertones, lots of oral, lots of fucking, uhhhh I think that’s it. As usual, reader has a birth control implant and everything is consensual. 

Enjoy!

You shuffled your feet as you climbed the stairs in the medical center. You were grateful to be alone, away from the hustle and interruptions of the crowded med bay and even further from the constant start and stop of the lifts. As a trainee you would use them to speed up your day, see more and learn more. But now? Now you could take the time to enjoy making your pulse race from something other than anxiety. You paused at the door to the second floor, considering popping into the lounge for a snack and some water, but thought better of it when you remembered how crowded it would be at this time of day. You kept climbing.

You had been in this maker-forsaken building for going on 36 standard hours, and weren’t sure when you would get to leave. You were the new kid on the block, taking over for the poor doc who had led the initial response to the clone illness. She would be back, but she needed rest. You were just happy to be here with a steady job and the knowledge that you could keep these men alive.

You reached the fifth floor where the isolation unit was, but also where the sleep rooms were located. You needed a minute to close your eyes and get your polarities straight. If you didn’t, mistakes would ensue, something neither you nor the unit could afford. You badged into the tiny broom closet of a room, just enough space for a cot and a desk where your data pad lived. You toed off your shoes and set your hip bag on the desk. It bumped the data pad and you sighed in relief when it lit up but didn’t show any new messages or results. Twenty-six standard minutes, that’s all you needed to refresh. You set the timer, clicked off the light and flopped onto the cot. Twenty-six minutes, that’s all; you let your eyes close.

Code blue, 5A. Code blue, 5A.

At the same time, the beeping you had already come to dread started, calling you to the isolation unit. This couldn’t be happening. You hadn’t even been here for 48 hours and already you were undoing the work Doc had done?

You grabbed your hip bag, slid on your shoes and ran. Ran for your job, ran for their lives.

You reached the doors to the unit and were met with the aide tasked with making sure everyone was properly equipped before entering the unit. He held out the white disposable coveralls, helping you step into them hastily without falling over. As you put on your shoe covers and gloves, he slipped the hood over your head, sealing out the outside air and clicking on the closed circulation. No emergencies in a pandemic.

Satisfied, he clicked open the doors and allowed you to run inside. You reached the room along with a medic you didn’t recognize and Carly, one of the nurses in the unit. The three of you waited for the medic who called the code to approach the end of his compression cycle.

“Evening everyone, my name’s Bee and I’ll be running this code according to the algorithm established by Doc. At this point, it is time to switch compressions and get meds running.”

So began the dance. The medics and nurse rotated between providing compressions to Sly and administering medications. After three changes, everyone waited with bated breath watching the monitor. One beep changed the atmosphere of the room.

“Great work team let’s place him onto his side and start cooling him down. We’ll evaluate in three and a half hours.” You stepped to the central desk to grab cool blankets. It was a miracle that his heart started beating on its own, but now it was time to ensure it would stay that way. You walked back in, spreading the towels over the clone while others hung medications and fluids. You took one last look before stepping out. “Thank you again everyone.”

You nodded at their reception of your words and made your way around the unit, checking in on the others under your care and were satisfied with their vital signs, their comfort levels. All was well again. You walked to the doffing room that connected to the exit. There was another medic there tasked with offering assistance for unsealing the suit you wore. After that was done, you didn’t need any help. You doffed the suit and hood, before getting rid of the gloves and shoe covers. You were drenched with sweat, but that was the usual these days.

Out of the unit, you made it maybe twelve steps before you started to see stars.

“Oh, not again.” You shuffled to the wall, sliding down it to avoid blacking out. You thought you had gone unnoticed, but that was not the case. The medic who had called for help was leaving the unit and saw you.

“Bee! What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…”

“Kix. My name is Kix.”

“I’m fine Kix, just a little lightheaded but nothing unusual.”

“You don’t look fine.” He knelt at your level. “Your face is grey and you’re sitting on the floor of a hospital. No one sits on the ground here if they’re fine.”

“If I tell you I’m fine, I’m fine.” You whispered without too much commitment.

“Come on, let’s get you checked out.” He stood and offered you his hand.

You stared at it for a moment, your exhaustion addled brain attempting to get your hand to cooperate. After a few too many seconds you took it and accepted the help getting back to standing, your head spinning briefly and making you squeeze your eyes shut when you made it upright. You glanced at Kix when you could open them again and nodded.

“Still think you’re fine?”

“Let’s just get this over with.” You dropped his hand and let him lead you to one of the other units that was currently running at 25 percent capacity. He led you into one of the empty rooms and pointed at the bed when you just stood there. “You have to sit so I can work and so you don’t pass out on me.”

You sighed deeply but sat down. He pulled one of the handheld scanners out of the cabinet and ran it over your forehead and thorax.

“You’re a little tachycardic and your blood pressure is a little low. When was the last time you ate or drank anything?”

You wracked your brain. You had eaten on your way to the center and had had some snacks here and there; you knew you had drank some water that morning and a cup of juice that one of the nurses had passed to you when she saw you zoning out downstairs, but that was it.

“If I say this afternoon is that good enough?”

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow.

“Considering it’s almost midnight I wouldn’t say so. But I won’t hold it against you. We only know how to take of others, not ourselves.”

“You can say that again.”

“You’ve got two options.” He locked eyes with you; apparently, he meant business. “I can give you fluids and you can sit here for an hour while they run, or I can follow you to the mess hall where you’ll eat an actual meal and drink something with electrolytes.”

You rested your face in your hands.

“What I want to do is sleep. That’s it. But if I have to pick, I guess I’ll go eat because that’ll be more permanent than fluids. Is my answer to your satisfaction?”

“Yup!” He grinned. “Let’s go.” He offered his hand again. You didn’t take it this time, just stood up and gestured in front of you.

“Lead the way.” You weren’t quite sure where the dining hall was considering you hadn’t been there yet. You could follow signs, sure, but it would be easier with someone who knew where they were going.

Much to your disdain, he led you to the lifts in the middle of the floor. The doors opened and you both stepped inside, waiting for the whoosh and dive down to the first floor. Fortunately, there was no stop and start to this trip, what with the center being empty of everyone except staff this time of night. The two of you exited and started in the general direction of the stairs. Instead of the stairwell, however, he led you down the hall to the right. You could hear some voices echoing down it but didn’t see anyone yet.

“Here we are. Now, I’ll go find a place to sit, you go and order.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” you grumbled. It was bad enough you had almost passed out but being babysat was worse. You walked through the archway and considered your options. The amount of smells mixing threatened to turn your stomach, but you quickly settled on grilled tip yip and vegetables with some rice, something that wasn’t too heavy but still had nutrients. You took it to the cooler to grab the electrolyte drink Kix insisted on and a water.

After checking out, surprised when you found out one of the benefits of the job was free meals, you found Kix and sat down across from him. You avoided his gaze and started chopping up the tip yip. Satisfied, you took a bite.

“That bad?” He smirked at the face you made.

“No, just getting back from that hungry/nauseous line isn’t pleasant.” You picked up the electrolyte drink and took a sip. “This, this is much better.”

“Good. I hope you got another to take back to the call room with you.”

“No, mom I got water because I need that too,” you quipped, rolling your eyes.

Kix just shook his head.

You worked your way through the meal, pausing to take sips of your drink, dropping your head down every time someone walked past.

“They won’t judge you, even if they know who you are.”

Your head popped up.

“I know that,” you snapped. “I just don’t want to talk to anyone when I’m being babysat.”

“We’ve already been through this! You know how to take care of everyone in this maker-forsaken building, except for yourself. That’s normal. Just accept some help! The last thing we need is someone else being put out of commission.”

“You did enough when you made me come down here. You don’t have to sit there watching me like I’m a child who’s going to run off!”

“Right. And if I did leave, did go back upstairs and take over for Zip, would you actually stay here and finish up? Or would you take off with your water and abandon everything else?” His eyes bore into yours. “Because I think you and I both know the answer to that. So, I’m going to sit here, and you’re going to sit there, and you’re going to give your body what it needs to keep going. Then and only then will we go back upstairs, where I’ll go take over for Zip and you’ll go get some sleep!”

You slammed your drink down and went to stand up.

“Make me.”

He was next to you before you could get your left leg out of the bench seat, grabbing your shoulder and shoving you back down.

“Sit. Down. And stay there.”

You glared at him and huffed out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You slowly turned back to the table and Kix went back to his seat.

“The sooner you finish, the sooner you can go to sleep.”

The nerve of this man. You started eating again in earnest, almost done and yet with too much left on your plate. After fifteen minutes of silence, you were finally done.

“Now, do I have your permission to go up and get a nap before someone else decides they want to crash?” You couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

“Oh of course, Bee! Just as soon as you say, ‘thank you, Kix.’”

“Go to hell.” You extracted yourself and your water from the seat and hustled to the stairs before he could respond.

***

The lilting notes of your alarm woke you gently. You sat up and grabbed the data pad, turning the alarm off and the desk lamp on. Using the data pad, you read through the latest nursing notes from the unit and were relieved to see that Sly had come off the vent again. You pulled on a pair of fresh socks from your shoulder bag and slipped on your shoes. You clipped on the hip bag headed for the unit to round.

On went the suit, helped into it by a new medic. Sign out had happened while you got some much-needed sleep. You stepped into the unit, thankful that it was calm in here again. Carly was gone, you knew this, replaced by Loren.

“How’s everyone this morning?”

“They’re all looking much better right this second. They’re actually with it today, even know they’re in the medical center and not on a cruiser,” came her hope-filled reply. You knew better than to join her, lest a repeat of yesterday be on the horizon.

“That’s good. I’m going to go see them all right quick, let them know I’m still here.” You walked to the right, starting with 5125 and working your way back. It was the same questions. Can you tell me your name? Where are we right now? What day is it? How much do you know about what’s going on? Today, they all knew the answers. Yesterday, they had known some. It wasn’t time for hope yet, but you allowed yourself to relax a little as you walked out of the unit to go chart. Or, at least you did until you recognized a now all-too-familiar head complete with high maintenance haircut and tattoo walking straight toward you. You groaned internally.

“I thought you would be gone by now,” you said, both as polite conversation and out of curiosity.

“Oh no, I’m here until tonight. Perks of floating. Plus, it means I get to keep an eye on you until Doc gets back.”

“Wait, Doc’s coming back? I thought she was off for the whole week?” You barely managed to keep the panic out of your voice. She had told you to hold down the fort, had trusted you with her unit. Now she was coming back early.

“Oh yeah. She heard what happened yesterday and thought it was time to come back and sure everyone is stable.”

You were so fired.

***

You weren’t fired. Doc only wanted to spend 12 hours on sifting through data collected over the two days she had been gone and see about optimizing some treatments and protocols. She insisted you go home and get some sleep, and when you came back, she would brief you on any changes before going back on vacation.

When you got back to the center, you climbed the stairs to the seventh floor where Doc’s office was, hoping she would have some good news.

“Knock, knock,” you quipped.

“Bee! Great you’re here. I didn’t do much while you were gone, changed up some formulations and adjusted post-resuscitation protocols, but other than that nothing has changed.” Her face grew serious. “You know those two codes weren’t your fault, right? They’re the sickest of the sick, if we can get them back it’s a miracle and you did just that. Don’t deprive yourself just because you think it’ll make up for anything,” she said knowingly.

“He told you?”

“Oh yeah. If I hear about you trying to pass out again, then we’ll have to have a more serious talk about what the expectations are for your health. Don’t let it happen again. Now, are you ready to take over or do you need to hear more details about overnight?”

“No I can read over the changes and get started.”

“Great.”

You left the room, pulling the door to behind you. Your data pad binged at you.

Office ready. 5th floor. Room 14.

You went for the stairs and jogged down them, careful of your footing. When you reached the fifth floor, you turned to the left instead of toward the unit, looking for your new office. You finally found it and scanned your badge at the reader. The fingerprint reader popped out and you placed the pad of your index finger on it.

Access granted.

The door unlocked at the same time the stairwell door opened and closed.

“Bee! Long time no see. Sleep well?”

You groaned in frustration.

“Yeah, it was nice not being fussed at incessantly. Thanks for snitching by the way.” You pushed the door open.

“You’re welcome.” He was proud of himself.

“Where do you get off doing that? I had it under control!”

“No, you didn’t. How many times are we going to have to go through this? All I did was make sure that if someone else coded it wasn’t going to be you.” He reached you then, leaning against the wall. Did he think you were going to invite him in?

“Just shut up.”

“Make me.”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him into the office, clicking on the light as you went and kicking the door shut. If you ended up killing him, you didn’t want witnesses. You let go of his shirt and put your forearm across his chest, pressing him into the door.

“I had one moment where all I needed was to get myself together that you just so happened to witness. That does not give you permission to make yourself my keeper!”

“No.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled your arm off his chest but didn’t let go. “What you did was sit on the floor of a medical center because you were so close to passing out. People who just ‘need a minute’ usually make it to the call rooms before sitting down.”

“It still doesn’t mean I need someone to constantly be checking on me.” You snatched your hand away. “I’ve got this office now which means I can keep all the supplies I need to not have it happen again.”

“I don’t believe you.” He stepped away from the door slightly.

“Oh yeah?” You gave him a small shove to put him back. “I made it this far without having someone take care of me. I didn’t even have roommates at the academy, to say nothing of living in a broom closet of an apartment while I was in the last years of my training.” You put a hand against his chest, holding him against the door, not wanting him coming any further into this space that was supposed to be your haven.

“That’s not normal! People aren’t supposed to be isolated; you know this!”

“It’s normal enough for me! It keeps me sane when everything seems like it’s falling apart!”

Something snapped. He closed the distance between you, lips landing on yours. You stepped back with a shove to his chest, chest heaving. He grabbed you by the shoulders, spinning and pushing you into the wall. You clutched onto his biceps and sought out his mouth with your own. He got impossibly closer, the kiss all teeth clacking and tongues sliding over each other. You tried to grind against him, but he grabbed your jaw with one hand, and your hip with the other, holding you still.

You growled low in your throat in frustration and broke the kiss, nipping at the corner of his jaw and grabbing the loops on his pants. You pushed him back again, making some space just as a knock sounded at the door.

“Get under the desk,” you whispered. “Coming!”

He looked at you incredulously.

“I said. Get. Under. The. Desk.” You whispered through gritted teeth. By some miracle, he complied as you went to the door and opened it. “What’s up, Zip?”

“I was wondering if we could go over the changes Doc made to the unit protocols. I was running late and missed sign out.”

“Sure! Take a seat, there aren’t many, but we may as well use the office instead of getting suited up.” You walked over and sat in your new desk chair, all padded foam and no arm rests to remind you to keep good biomechanics. It was almost perfect, except that you had a seething clone medic under your desk, so it was impossible to sit the way you were supposed to. Instead, you sat with your legs tucked under you and pulled yourself closer to the desk. “The only major changes are to the fluids and timing of their blood pressure meds. We’re doing a different ratio of saline to dextrose and giving them pressors sooner rather than later.”

“Oh, that’s it?”

“Yup!” you replied brightly. “So, in about thirty minutes they’ll all be ready for another dose of them. I’m going to work on notes for them and then come see them again.”

“Oh, sorry to have bothered you. I didn’t realize they were so simple but didn’t want to screw up today.” “It’s no bother at all. I’m always happy to chat.”

“I’m going to go up then, get some of the fluids mixed up just in case. You can’t be too careful, ya know?”

“I completely understand.” You pushed back and stood up when Zip did. “If you have any questions, call, come down, shoot me a message, anything.” You walked him over the door and opened it, smiling.

“Thanks again, Bee. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, Zip. No problem at all.” You pushed the door shut, exhaling deeply. You hadn’t been caught, but it was entirely too close for you. You turned around as Kix was crawling out from under the desk, probably seeing red if his face was any indication.

“I didn’t need to be under there, you know. You could have just said you were going over the protocols with me.”

“I could have, but you’ve been here all morning. This was also way more fun.” You smirked.

He was grabbing you by the hips, leading you back to the wall, but you side stepped and spun him around.

“Not here. Not in my workplace.” Your eyes didn’t leave his. “As much as I would like to, lives are at stake here and I need to get my charting done.”

“Okay.” He looked crestfallen, but he was nodding. “I understand. When you get some time off though?”

“Just like a man, thinking with his dick. Yes, when I get some time off, but I have no idea when that will be. We’re in the middle of a crisis and I won’t have backup until Doc gets back.”

“Okay, I’ll leave now. Let me know if you need anything.” He left without looking back.

You went and sank into your chair. You weren’t quite sure what had just happened, what you had just agreed to, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You had work to do, and work you did. Three hours later, you were finishing up your last note, having to update plans for all the patients in the unit. You were almost done when an alert popped up on your data pad.

New provider from med bay on the Resilience. Arriving tonight.

Just your luck.

***

You stepped out of the unit, thankful you were getting a reprieve, but worried that you were shirking your responsibilities by taking the three days off the new provider was going to cover until Doc got back and the three of you could start pulling 24 standard hour shifts instead of days on end. You walked down the silent hall to your office, resigned to packing up your shoulder bag and going home. You did and didn’t hope Kix would show up again. Your door had almost shut when it caught on something. There he was.

“Hey, heard you and Doc have some more help. Maybe now you all won’t be killing yourselves trying to keep everyone alive,” he quipped.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I feel guilty enough over how relieved I am without you making it worse.”

“No, I really do think it’s a good thing. You get to go home and have some time off, maybe I get to go with you?” He was bold, no one need ever doubt that.

“And why would I let you into my home? I barely know you.”

“Fair enough, let’s go get dinner and you can ask anything you want. But you have to answer the same questions.”

“No need. I know where you work.”

He laughed.

“That you do. Take your time packing up, I’ll meet you downstairs after I sign out to night float.” He was gone again.

You shook your head. What had you gotten yourself into?

You changed out of your scrubs and into the jumpsuit you had arrived in, quite content to not bring the med center’s clothes home with you. You threw the scrubs into the laundry bag and slipped the data pad into your shoulder bag. Your hip bag would stay here. You clicked out the light, made sure the door locked behind you and headed for the stairs.

Down and down you went, careful not to slip but hurrying just a bit. Whether it was anxiety or excitement that made you move with a purpose, you weren’t sure. When you popped out into the main lobby, you glanced around and found Kix, but didn’t call attention to yourself. You just slowed down to make sure he saw you and followed you out. No one here needed to know.

You walked to the shuttle stop without looking behind you, confident he would have seen you. He did.

“The hospital scrubs really are a sin, ya know,” he whispered in your ear.

“Yeah, yeah, shush.” You had made it this far without getting caught, the last thing you needed was the shuttle ride to your speeder doing it. You both stepped onto the craft, grasping the overhead bars. You rode in uncomfortable silence, hyper aware that he was just a little too far in your personal space for it to be overlooked by strangers. Thankfully, no one else got on so it was just the droid pilot. “Lot 6 please.” The droid gave no acknowledgement but closed the doors and ferried you to where your speeder was parked.

When you stepped off, yours was the only one left. It wasn’t the nicest transport, but it was zippy and got the job done.

“Nice ride.” You couldn’t detect any sarcasm.

“Thanks, it gets me where I need to go.” You hopped over the side into the driver’s seat, Kix making his way to the passenger side. Once he was in, you started it up and pulled out of the lot.

It wasn’t a long way to your apartment, but the tension that returned when he brushed your thigh accidentally-on-purpose made it feel like it was never ending. At your apartment, you parked and the two of you moved maybe too fast to be inconspicuous to passers-by, but at this point you didn’t really care. You were away from work, and no one in this district knew you. He could wrap one arm around your waist and squeeze your hip while you waited for the lift and no one would have reason to question it. So, he did. And you let him. Maybe you even wiggled a little to encourage him.

When you got in the lift, he didn’t let go all the way, just rested his hand as the lift moved up to the fourteenth story where you lived. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for fear you wouldn’t make it to the apartment. The doors weren’t all the way open when you were rushing down the hall for the door, Kix behind you again. As you dug out your key and got it in the door, hands starting to shake, he wrapped both arms around your waist and brought his mouth to your neck, planting sloppy kisses and making you suck in a sharp breath as you got in unlocked and open.

You stepped through and spun around as he nudged the door shut with his foot. You brought your mouth up to his as you clicked the door locked behind him. It was like the kiss earlier, teeth and tongues and grabbing onto each other, but this time when you nipped his jaw you kissed the spot and soothed it with your tongue, causing him to let out a low groan. As you both moved further into the space, you reached behind you to unzip but gripped your wrist before you could do it.

“Turn around,” he rasped. You complied and he let the zip down gently, holding you steady as you stepped out of it. He unclasped your bra, and you tossed it away from you. You tried to walk toward your bedroom, but he gripped your wrist and pulled you to him again. He captured you in a bruising kiss, gloved hands gripping at your ass. You wanted him undressed too, but his armor was still in the way and you weren’t sure how to get it off.

“Ta-take this off,” you panted, tapping on his chest plate. You took a half step back and watched in amazement as he made quick work of the plates, shucking them and his gloves quickly until he was only in his blacks. You stepped close again, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and tugging it up over his head. It dropped somewhere behind him, and you grabbed his hand, leading him where you really to be. You almost made it too, before he pushed you against the door frame, nipping and licking at your throat. He held you in place with a hand on one of your hips, the other hand palming your breast as he worked his mouth lower. He took the other nipple in his mouth, nibbling and sucking, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you.

“You like that?” He snickered. “I think I know what you’ll like even better.” He dropped down, mouthing over your stomach and down to your underwear seam, bringing the hand from your breast down to provide some pressure, causing your hips to buck as much as they could with him still holding you in place.

“Please, Kix, keep going.” Your breathless moans were getting a little more desperate as he got closer to where you really wanted him.

“Oh, someone drops the attitude when they want to come, that’s good to know.”

You groaned in frustration when he stopped moving again and pushed at his shoulders, giving you enough just space to get from under his hands and into the room.

“Get on the bed. Now.” You meant business, and hoped you sounded like it, but you weren’t sure given how out of breath you were.

“Fine.” Oh good, he was too.

Kix walked over to the edge of the bed, gripping the top of his pants and starting to pull them down.

“Ah, ah, ah.” You sidled up to him and grabbed his wrists, pulling them away just a bit. “Not yet. Lay down. Eyes on me, hands by your side.”

He nodded, and did as he was told, glowering at you the whole time.

“Now, that’s better.” You eased your panties down slowly, not a whole lot to work with in terms of teasing him, but it would do. He eyes were glued to your hands as you slid them over your feet one at a time, setting them down by his head. “I said eyes on me.”

He rolled his eyes but looked back at you.

“Something to say?”

“Oh no, just hoping you’re enjoying this while you can.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Oh no, honeybee it’s a promise.”

You hummed nonchalantly in response, but your walls were fluttering, nonetheless. You climbed up on the bed and straddled him. You considered him for a moment, before deciding to put him out of his misery. You ground your hips down on him once, causing you both to moan in unison at the contact. You pulled down on the top of his pants, erection springing free. You leaned over and licked a stripe up his cock, pulling wanton noises out of him. You tapped on his ankle so he would open up and you could lay down between his legs.

You took him in hand and lapped softly at his glans. When you took him further into your mouth, he fisted a hand in your hair, trying to tug you down onto him. You pulled all the way off and tsked at him.

“I thought I said no touching.” He started to protest but you cut him off. “No. I’ll tell you when you can touch me.”

His hand flopped back onto the bed in defeat. You resumed your ministrations, licking over his whole cock before taking him into your mouth again. This time he didn’t move, just groaned lowly. You brought a hand up to cup his balls gently, and he made a broken sound. You bobbed your head faster, bringing your other hand down to run your nails over his inner thighs and the space behind his balls in slow circles. You were fairly certain you had him on the edge when his hips surged up under you, but instead of forcing him further into your throat it knocked you off him entirely. You were just shocked enough that he was able to sit up, flip you over, and pin you to the bed.

“You think you’re funny? Being such a fucking tease?” he growled in your ear. He had himself propped up over you with one hand, the other working quickly over his cock. “I’m going to ruin you.”

You keened at that, squirming under him as he sat back on his heels, pressing one hand into your chest while his other kept working. He hissed through his teeth as he finished, ropes of come landing on your stomach. He ran three fingers through it, scooping it up. He brought them up to your mouth.

“Open.”

You shook your head.

“I said. Open.” His voice was dangerously low.

You pursed your lips and shook your head again.

“Fine.” He smeared his fingers over the lower half of your face. Your tongue flitted out to lick his come off your lips, your eyes not leaving his. “You filthy brat.”

You just quirked an eyebrow at him, egging him on.

“We’ll see if you still have an attitude when I’m done with you.” He pushed your legs apart, kneeling between them. He ran a finger up your lips, making them part and exposing your anatomy to him. “Oh, but you’re so wet. Only good girls get to come, you think you’ve been good for me?”

“Please, I can be so good for you.” “You weren’t being very good earlier.”

“I can make up for it, just please please touch me.”

“Since you asked so nicely…” He leaned down and went to work. He licked flat, wet stripes over your clit before swirling and lapping at your vestibule. You let out a moan and he went back to your clit, now planting filthy kisses on it on it in earnest as one finger entered you easily, followed by a second. “You’re soaked, honeybee. Is this all for me?”

“A-all for you,” You panted out. “Fuck you feel so good.”

“You’re so eager for me to take care of you. Where was all this enthusiasm earlier this week? Hmm? Not too good to ask for help when you want to come, but not willing to actually take care of yourself.” He licked another flat stripe from your vestibule to your mound, nipping at the soft flesh there. He kept pumping his fingers in and out, adjusting his angle, looking for that one spot but not quite finding it yet.

“Ah, please don’t stop, Kix!” You were desperate, and you didn’t care.

“Hmm… go ahead, Bee. Come for me.” You let go, clenching around his fingers. He kept licking at your clit, to the point that it was almost painful.

“Ahh, it’s too much, Kix.”

“Oh no, I think a good girl like you can take more, what do you think?” He pulled his fingers out and started lapping at your vestibule, licking up the wetness that seeped out. With the attention off your clit, you nodded. “What’s that?”

“Yes. I can.” Your voice was as breathless as you felt.

“Good girl.” He slipped his fingers back into you, seeking out your G-spot but finding it this time.

“Hooooo fuck! Ohh do that again.”

“Ask nicely.”

“Fuck! Please Kix do that again!”

“Atta girl.” He skated his fingers over it again and again, bringing his tongue back to your clit, licking and sucking like a man possessed. You couldn’t stop the mewling that came out of your mouth, the stimulation both too much and just enough. “Come. Right now.”

You were fairly certain the neighbors above and below could hear the wail that left you when you came again, vision whiting out and tears leaking out.

“There we go, now I think you’re ready.”

“Re-ready for what?” You didn’t have a voice at this point, just a desperate whisper.

“Ready for my cock, duh.” You looked away from his eyes and saw his hard-again cock in his hand. Your lips parted. “That’s what I thought.”

He dragged the tip up your lips, covering himself in your wetness.

“Wait, I have a better idea,” he said quietly, whether he meant for you to respond or not, you weren’t sure. “Based on where you were screaming for me, you need to turn over.”

You blinked at him a few times and quirked an eyebrow at him, then sat up to turn over.

“Hands and knees.” You complied, a little too entranced to say anything. He ran a hand over your hip, smacking your ass lightly. “Perfect.”

He gathered some more wetness, spread it over himself, then slid the head of his cock between your lips. He paused for a moment before sliding the rest of the way in. You groaned quietly.

“Let me hear you, honeybee. Let me hear how well I can take care of you.” He pulled halfway out, head dragging over your G-spot.

“Fuck, Kix!”

“That’s it.” He pulled almost all the way out before easing back into you, making you whimper with the slow pace.

“More,” you whispered.

“What was that?”

“More, please,” you asked with a little more volume.

“Whatever you want.” He sped up, quickening his thrusts and fisting his hand in your hair. He gripped you under the shoulder and pulled you up flush against him, changing the angle but still skating over that same spot with every thrust. You couldn’t stop the moans spilling out of you. He fucked up into you, biting at your shoulder, groaning into your shoulder. “Touch yourself.”

You didn’t hesitate to comply, reaching down to rub quick circles around your clit, positively mewling at the feeling of him everywhere. He removed the hand from your shoulder and pressed between your shoulder blades, pushing your face into the mattress while he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

“If you’re going to come again, do it now.” He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your walls clamped down around him as you came again, more tears spilling down your face with how overstimulated you really were. You were cognizant of him pulling out and spilling on your back, but barely.

You felt the bed shift as he got out, but he was only gone for a moment, back with some wet cloths and matching dry ones. He cleaned your back before helping you turn over and cleaning your stomach. He took a second one and softly dabbed at your face.

“What do you need, honeybee?”

“Mm, some water would be nice. Maybe a blanket?”

He left again, and you heard him puttering in the kitchen putting ice and water into a glass. When he came back, you saw that he had found where you kept reusable straws. He also had your favorite blanket that lived on the couch.

You sat up and tried to accept the glass, but your hands were shaking a bit.

“Here.” He held the straw up to your lips and you took it, gladly sipping.

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he put the glass down, climbed back in the bed and covered the two of you with the blanket.

“No thanks needed, just listen when I tell you that you need to take care of yourself next time.” You just laughed softly, curling yourself into his side. 

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Tagging just a few people who left a lot of love on the first story I actually posted, thanks for your support, I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post this otherwise. @catsnkooks @nelba @cherry-cokes-world @000ayfh 

[lovemesomesurveys]

survey by bluedolphin74

Name something you do once a week. Go to church (via livestream).

Name something a preacher always tries to get the people in his church to do. Read the Bible.

Give me another word for nonsense. Ridiculousness. 

Name something that you might outgrow. Interest in movies or TV shows you used to like.

What do men talk about in a barber shop? Sports stuff I feel like.

Name something besides soap and a towel people take with them to the bath/shower. Their clothes to change into after.

Name something you put off until the last minute. Showering. I enjoy it once I’m taking it, but getting the energy to take one takes me awhile each time.

Name something you buy for kids when they go back to school. The necessary school supplies.

Name something that makes you feel sick to your stomach. Cruel, heartless, senseless acts.

Name an illness thought to be caused by stress. High blood pressure.

When you are trying to save money what meat do you buy? I don’t do the grocery shopping. I know my mom likes to stock up when our local grocery store has a good sale.

Name something you can now buy that is cordless. Airpods. 

Name something besides gas that you can buy at a convenience store. Snacks.

What happens when you skip a meal? That’s not uncommon for me. I rarely have breakfast and often I don’t have lunch. My first meal is usually dinner.

Name something that makes you sleepy. ASMR.

Name something you buy that is almost always white. Q-tips.

What is something that makes you nervous when you are driving? I don’t drive.

Name a reason people give for returning clothes. Usually, it’s because it doesn’t fit.

What is something people chain their bikes to? Bike stands?

What wakes you up in the morning? Myself, usually.

Name a time when people scream at the top of their lungs? If there’s a spider on them? ha. Maybe that’s just me.

Name a brand of perfume. Yves Saint Laurent.  

Name something people operate by an automatic timer. Some coffee makers do.

Name something people put in their backyards. BBQ grill. 

Name a common color for sofas. Gray.

Name a holiday when people might have to work. Christmas.

When you slip into something comfortable what do you put on? All I wear are leggings and oversized tees, which are perfectly comfortable to me.

Name a word that rhymes with play? Slay. 

Name a kind of berry. Strawberry.

Name something sold in health food stores. Protein powders.

Name something made of steel. Scissors. 

Name something that is yellow. Bananas. 

Name a modern convenience in people’s homes. Computers.

Name something people open. Presents.

Name something that has numbers on it. Credit cards.

Name a material curtains are made of. Linen. 

Name something you put on a pizza. I love spinach on pizza.

Name a little boys’ toy. Cars and trucks. Obviously anyone can play with those, I’m just giving a typical toy that is often marketed towards boys.

Give me another word for run. Sprint.

Name something you make with tomatoes. Tomato sauce. Name something you would see at a fancy dinner party. Fancy dinnerware. 

Name something in your house that has a special stand. Uhhh.

Name a product in the bathroom that comes in a pump dispenser. Soap.

Name something with a horn. Rhinos. 

Name a boat used on lakes. Canoes. 

Name something sold in a florist. Flowers? ha.

Name something women wear in their hair. Scrunchies. 

Name something you only use in winter. A scarf.

Name something people take pictures of. Nature.

Give me another name for restaurant. Dining establishment.

Name any month. December.

Name something slippery. The roads after it rains.

Name a sauce people put on meat. Steak sauce. 

Name something that has a rim. A glass.

Name something people are allergic to. Nuts.

Name something that grows fast. My hair does.

Name something people press. Their touch screen phone.

Name something you do that really makes you tired. Exist?

Name something you roll up. Burritos.

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Everyone; jonghyun gets exactly what he deserves which is neck smooches from everyone; PG-13

happy birthday gay baby

“Brat baby,” Minho says sternly against Jonghyun's mouth.

“Thank you, I am baby,” Jonghyun says cutely.

Jonghoodie au

Tae wakes up grumpily, but only because ve's always grumpy to wake up. Instead of letting ver body do this to ver, ve refuses the gradual opening of ver consciousness and instead wiggles deeper under ver blankies and into the warm body in front of ver. It's  J, ve's pretty sure, because they're shirtless and their arm is under ver head, a comfy beefy bicep pillow.

 Ve doesn't remember falling asleep with J last night, but ve's not complaining about waking up next to them either. Ve's never going to complain about their habit of sneaking into bed with ver in the middle of the night. Ve shifts closer instead, tangling their legs together, finding J's other arm and then their hand and holding it close under ver chin like a plushie. 

 Almost as if in response, J shifts closer to ver, the arm under ver head wraps around ver neck, hugging ver close, and the hand under ver chin uncurls its fingers. J taps their fingers over ver jawline, ver cheeks, ver mouth, gentle little boops that make ver smile. They tap the tip of ver nose gently with one finger. They slide that finger down and, just as gently, insert it into ver left nostril. then, they delicately pick up a booger,  move their hand down an inch, and push their finger between ver lips.

Tae laughs, which allows J easy access through ver open mouth, and they wipe the booger off on ver tongue, which only makes ver laugh harder. 

“Was that--” Ve pauses to rearrange the booger in ver mouth and swallow it. “Was that supposed to gross me out?” ve asks. If it was, J missed the mark completely. Ve does that all the time on ver own. J chuckles, moving their hand around ver face to ruffle through ver hair.

“No, just make you laugh,” they say. Their voice is rough, barely more than a whisper; that must have been literally the very first thing they did after they woke up. Tae loves them a lot.

“You're like, my best friend ever,” ve says. Ve knows ve's not supposed to have a favorite qpp, but. J knows that they're everyone's honorary favorite. Very well, if their pleased little hum is any indicator. Tae nestles closer to rub ver face against their chest, warm and soft, and then wiggles up the bed. Ve leaves the sanctuary of ver blankets, braving the cold air so ve can rub ver face further up J's body, their collar bones, into their neck. There ve places a sloppy, sleepy kiss, more of a mush of lips against their throat, trailing them around the side of their neck and under their ear.

 J giggles happily, strong arms holding ver close. Tae blows a raspberry against their skin for good measure, then gives them one last little kiss before rolling onto ver back and pushing ver palms into ver eyes. 

“G’morning,” J says, a sleepy little mumble of a word. Tae nods back as ve yawns into ver forearm. For once, ve's not so grumpy to wake up.

~

Key wails dramatically when she rounds the corner into the hallway and sees that the bathroom door is closed with the light on behind it. She doesn't deserve this. Walking up to it, she hears music played too loud from a shity phone speaker and Junghee singing along to it and perks up a little. That's not so bad. She can still be saved.

Slapping her hand gently but loudly enough to be heard on the door, she whines through the wood.

“Let me in,” she calls. “It's time to pee.” it's 1:17 p.m. exactly. They all know that that's her pee time. Her body is on a schedule.  Thankfully, the door opens quickly, Junghee's cute smile and pink hair filling in the gap before she pulls it all the way open.

 “Morning Boonie,” she smiles, and then, “Scuzie,” she says, twisting to slip past Key and out of the bathroom. “Don't pee forever, I'm kind of in the middle of something,” she adds, pointing to her hair, which Key realizes is half damp and straight, half dry and purposefully curled to look extra fluffy. She glances passed Junghee to note the hair curler on the counter and shakes her head, smiling fondly.

“I won't,” she says, closing the door behind her.

 And she doesn't; she pees quickly, foot tapping to the song coming from Junghee's phone that she left in here, and then washes her hands and opens the door back up. Junghee is leaning against the opposite wall, just chilling, and Key gets to look her up and down once before she perks up and slips into the bathroom with her. Mismatched socks, Minho's boxers just barely peeking out from one of Tae’s giant hoodies, the scent of Jinki’s body wash clinging to her skin. Key guesses she got out of bed feeling especially snuggly today.

“Did you have a nice pee?” she asks, lifting one eyebrow. Key grins back.

“I sure did,” she says. She reaches up and fluffs the hair at the back of Junghee's head gently. “Want me to do the back for you?” she asks. Junghee always gets pouty that she can't do the back of her hair as good as the rest of it. Junghee smiles wide when Key asks, though, nodding quickly with sparkles in her eyes.

 “Please do,” she says. So Key does, gently turning her around to face the mirror and grabbing the curler from on top of the counter. She doesn't curl Junghee's hair, exactly; she just makes it a little wavy, a little bouncy, a little fluffy, like a nice soft pink cloud. Just the way that Junghee likes when she's feeling extra cute.

When she's done with the back, Junghee presses a smoochy to her cheek and takes the curler to finish the rest herself. Key takes a  moment to just appreciate her, her cute hair, her cute face, her cute everything. Her cute neck, the little baby undercut hairs on it that peek out above the hoodie.

Suddenly Key feels the uncontrollable urge to kiss, so she does, gently taking Junghee's wrist with the curler to hold it away for a second with one hand and pushing her head gently to the side with her other hand. She places the smallest, loveliest smooch on the side of her neck, then watches in the mirror as Junghee's  face turns almost as pink as her hair. She smirks, proud of herself, when Junghee puts the curler down to put her face into her hands next.

“Fuck,” she whispers. “Kibummie,” she says next, peeking up with her big gorgeous pouty eyes. 

“Hmm?” Key hums, extremely gay and in love with the nickname and also a tiny bit suspicious. She knows that Junghee is going to ask her for a favor and honestly, the real question is whether or not Key is enamored enough right now to let whatever it is slide. 

“Can I borrow your cute unicorn earrings?” Junghee asks hopefully.

Absolutely fucking not, Key thinks immediately.

“No bub,” she says gently out loud. And before Junghee can pout more, she gives her another little neck kissy. “But when we go to the mall this weekend I'll buy you whatever earrings you want,” she offers. She takes Junghee's loud hissed “Fuck yeah” as a yes.

~

It's close to lunchtime, and it's Jinki’s turn to make lunch today, and they were planning on making everyone cute little grilled cheese sandwiches, so they are very confused when they smell cooking beef and bacon as they walk down the hallway to the kitchen. And  they’re even more confused when they peep in and see Jonghyun at the stove, cast iron on and lots of different little foods all chopped up and set aside on the counter.

Slipping inside, they tickle their fingers over Jonghyun's waist to announce their presence before wrapping their arms all the way  around her and hooking their chin over his shoulder.

 “I thought it was my turn to make lunch?” they ask, watching as Jonghyun finishes pulling out the final pieces of bacon and dropping them onto a paper towel, dabbing at them with a napkin to absorb all of the extra grease. Jonghyun glances at them over her shoulder with a little frown, and then a little smile, shrugging with his other shoulder so she doesn't push Jinki off.

“One of us messed up then,” she says. “You can just help me,” he adds cutely. Jinki smiles against his neck.

“You mean, like this?” they ask, and cling tighter around her waist. They also kiss Jonghyun's neck, light, soft, distracting. Jonghyun whines, shivering, but he also doesn't push Jinki off. Jinki takes that as permission and keeps doing what they’re doing, pressing soft, breathy kisses all over the side of her neck as Jonghyun pulls them around the little kitchen. 

This was kind of an impulsive move, they'll admit, but they can't deny that it's fun watching Jonghyun’s hands shake as she tries to clean out the skillet and then layer up nachos inside of it. When Jinki bites down on his neck and sucks gently, Jonghyun full on whimpers and accidentally dumps all of the peppers into one area. It takes her over a minute to actually spread them all the way around evenly because Jinki doesn't stop.

Eventually, Jonghyun sets up three layers of chips and cheese and toppings. Jinki lets him go for just long enough to bend down, open the oven, put them in, and close it. Then, as Jonghyun reaches for their little strawberry timer, Jinki turns her around and  pushes her up against the counter, pressing their bodies together so they can feel Jonghyun tremble.

“How long do those have to be in for?” they ask, lips just under Jonghyun’s ear.

“Like, 15 minutes, ish,” Jonghyun says, voice shaky. He twists the timer on between their stomachs and then carelessly dumps it onto the counter behind them. Jinki hums quietly, shifting to focus on the other side of Jonghyun’s neck and give that some love as well.

“Sounds like just enough time for some hickeys,” they smile, and latch onto Jonghyun's neck again. All Jonghyun does in reply is squeak a little and tangle her fingers into Jinki’s hair.

~

This definitely is a time that Minho is having right now. He pants quietly from the effort of it, from keeping up with five puppies all clamoring for attention at once. Key's 2 little poodles, always so well-behaved at home and eager to let off energy as soon as they hit the dog park; Tae's two little fucking gremlins, tripping over each other and nibbling all over his hands; and not Roo, snoozing gently under a park bench, but her dad, Jonghyun, his hands all over Minho's back as Minho struggles to get the other four under control. 

He's “helping,” he says, but the way his smile curves up only at one corner and his sharp teeth show between his lips betray his lack of benevolence. He's being a nuisance. On purpose. His hands pap and rub all over Minho’s shoulders, offering moral support, offering comfort, distracting him as he kneels in the grass and tries to snatch the tennis ball out from between four eager mouths.

Luckily, he gets it after another moment of struggling, and he chucks it as far as he can away. Before all of the puppies have even gone off chasing it, Jonghyun is pulling him back to his feet and nestling into his shoulder. He's acting all little, all cute, playful smile on his lips, foot popped up cutely as he takes Minho's face in his hands and steals a kiss. Minho can't find it anywhere inside of him at all to be mad at him when he's this cute, and that annoys him, and Jonghyun knows that, and that annoys Minho even more. 

“Brat baby,” he says sternly against Jonghyun's mouth.

“Thank you, I am baby,” Jonghyun says cutely. Minho rolls his eyes, and then all of the dogs come back, the tennis ball firm between Adam’s teeth. He drops back down to his knees, fluffing all of them up, feeling Jonghyun leaning all of his weight on him yet again as he tugs the ball free.

This time, after he throws the ball, instead of letting Jonghyun pull him up, he turns around and gets one arm around Jonghyun's legs, picking them up as he stands and getting his other arm around Jonghyun's waist, effectively scooping him up into his arms in one smooth movement. 

Jonghyun squeaks in surprise, an adorable high-pitched noise as he clings around Minho's neck. His feet kick in the air as he pulls himself closer. Minho takes advantage of their positions by opening his mouth wide and then closing it down on Jonghyun's neck,   biting him all over gently, making deep growling noises. Jonghyun giggles, squirming in his arms, his laughter reaching out loud through the dusklit dog park, loud through Minho's ears and in his chest.

It makes him soften immediately. It's such a pretty sound. He stops biting in favor of just kissing, dropping soft little smooches all over his skin. That, of course, makes Jonghyun laugh even more. He does stop squirming though, and just holds on around Minho's neck, hands running through his long hair. Minho readjusts his grip on him to be more secure, nosing into his neck and slowing his kisses down, making them softer, more loving. 

He only stops when the puppies return. He raises his head and looks down, smiling at all of them hopping around his legs. When he looks back to Jonghyun, he's smiling as well, hearts in his eyes, looking dreamy and pink and loved all over. Minho kisses his cheek once before setting him down. Then, Jonghyun takes his turn to kneel down and wrestle the ball away from everyone else.

 ~

Everything is a little fuzzy, a little muffled. Voices come in and out of focus, loud and clear one moment quiet and far away another. Jonghyun is incredibly comfy, warm, nice arms around him, a heartbeat beating steady next to his own. His eyes are closed, the light behind them a cozy orange glow. He breathes slow, deep, relaxed and satiated.

And then he's falling? No-- wait, yes. Wait, no. He's not falling, but he jolts up anyway, sitting up straight, eyes snapping open. He breathes in deep and sharp through his nose, blinking the living room into focus. Dim lamps, stars through the window behind the couch, TV on behind him, Tae under him looking up at him with ver warm brown eyes.

“You okay, J?” ve asks. Ver hands rub soothingly up and down his sides. Jonghyun blinks more, rubbing his palms into his eyes, and then nods. He's a little sheepish. He was just falling asleep, that's all.

“Yeah,” he says. He yawns into his hoodie sleeve and lets his hands fall into his lap for a moment. Then he lifts them to push gently on Tae's shoulders, pushing himself up. “I'm gonna go sleepy,” he mumbles. He's gonna go sleepy somewhere that isn't in his cute babefriend’s lap. He wants a nice comfy warm bed. 

“Okay,” Tae says gently. Ve holds Jonghyun close for just long enough to tilt ver face up and press a little smoochie to his neck. “Nighty night,” ve says.

“Sleep tight,” Minho adds, scooting over from the other side of the couch. He puts his hand on Jonghyun's thigh and leans up to kiss his neck as well. Jonghyun blushes at both of them and hides his face in his hands as he wiggles out of Tae's lap. Both of them gently tug one of his hands away and take turns holding it as he shuffles out of the living room.

In the hallway, he trails the fingers of one hand along the wall so he doesn't bump into anything and let's their little motion activated night lights guide his way towards the bedrooms. Before he gets there, as he approaches the bathroom, Jinki comes out of it, running their fingers through their hair and yawning into their other hand. When they see Jonghyun, they smile sleepily and hold their arms out. Jonghyun takes the tiniest detour to walk into their arms instead, letting them hug him close.

“Sleepy time?” they ask. Jonghyun nods into their shoulder, and then he tilts his head a little to the side because he can tell that they're leaning in to press a warm kiss to his neck. Several of them, one to each tender hickey that they left on him earlier before. “Sweet dreams, Jongie,” they murmur into his skin. Jonghyun smiles and nods and mumbles a few little noises back as Jinki lets him go.

He continues down the hallway, counting doors until he reaches Gwiboon's. He knocks with his sleepy little hand and, when she   calls out that it's okay for him to come in, does. She's in bed, cozy blue light lamp on, doing stuff on her laptop, all washed up and ready to snooze in a little bit.

“Can I sleepy with you Kibummie?” Jonghyun asks hopefully. She smiles and nods immediately, pulling her covers aside and scooting over a little bit to give him room. Jonghyun smiles on his face and in his heart as he walks over and crawls into bed with her. Before he gets all the way settled lying down, she cups his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, his neck.

 “Sleep well, baby girl,” she smiles. Jonghyun smiles his sleepiest back and wiggles down under the covers. It's incredibly comfortable here and he feels like he's going to doze off easily, which he’s very happy about. He had a big day today busy being cute and he deserves his rest.

[gourmade4u]

Start at the basics

Kitchen Essentials

If you’re just starting out, what are some essential tools and tips to keep in mind while you’re working away at your best Gordon Ramsey duplicate? 

Well, for starters, you need to make sure that your kitchen has the necessary base in which to build from. 

TL;DR- Chef’s knife, rubber spatula, whisk, pans (all types are neatly listed below the picture with the whisk and rubber spatulas), glass mixing bowls, kevlar or other cut-resistant gloves, metal spatula, cutting boards, electric thermometer, colander, box grater, and a timer (if you don’t have a microwave or oven that has one). 

First thing’s first: 

A Chef’s knife. I purchased mine from Ergo Chef (not an affiliate, I’m just a huge fan). From the moment my hand touched this knife, I cried literal happy tears from the depths of my soul. If you have arthritis issues, or issues that cause your hands to swell or lock up from consistent use, an ergonomically designed knife is incredibly important. For those of you just starting, my first knife set was a Farberware set with a wooden block from Walmart. It was a 20 piece knife set with steak knives and it was less than 90 dollars. But take the time to invest in your knives, you’ll be grateful that you did. 

I’ll post in a separate article how to sharpen your knife, but do keep in mind to NEVER, hold on, let me bold this, NEVER: run your knives or single knife through the dishwasher, and/or leave them in the sink. After you finish using your knife, it is best if you wash and dry it immediately to keep it from rusting. Your knives will thank you, and so will your wallet. 

A rubber spatula.

So, this little guy is the absolute best. He will help you toast rice for your risotto, spoon out that perfect pan sauce that took you way too many tries to get it exactly the way you wanted, AND he'll make sure that all your batter makes it into the pan, or your mouth, whichever you prefer.

A whisk. So yes, a whisk is incredibly versatile. You can use it to scramble eggs, make meringue, mayo, vinaigrette, and bake that cake you’re gonna regret in a week.

PANsexuality is important. But it has nothing to do with this next list of pans.

Non-stick pan

10 in. stainless steal or ceramic pan 

Cast iron pan (or 3)

Sauce pot (if you're like me, you have 6)

Griddle pan (not pictured... yet)

Sheet pan

Casserole

Each and every one of these serves a unique purpose.

A non-stick is great for eggs, bacon, frittatas (which are fancy eggs), and so many other items that I promise aren't just breakfast food. 

A ceramic pan is wonderful, but in my personal opinion, a stainless steel is better if you're a novice. A ceramic pan requires a lot of spoons (energy) and maintenance. They scratch easily if you look at them the wrong way. But they are great for more even cooking than a stainless, and make the best pork chops. Stainless steel isn’t as hard to work with, isn’t as high maintenance (though, like knives, NEVER put them in your dishwasher), is ideal for crusting your steak, and making a pan sauce with the remaining bits. 

A cast iron pan evenly distributes heat and you can put it in the oven at 500 degrees without worrying about warping or damage to your pan. Cast iron is also fantastic if you don’t want to use as much fat in your pan to keep your items from sticking. Also, you can’t get a crust on a steak in any other pan, the way you do in a cast iron. Also, don’t put this in the dishwasher.

A sauce pot sounds like an unnecessary necessity. I’ll explain, when most people hear “sauce” pot, they get very confused because there are like, 30 types. This is an exaggeration, but there are a lot of types. A large saucepot can hold from 1 qt. to 5 qts. I always recommend getting a 5 qt. pot because you can use it for small amounts and large amounts. But the best advice I can give would be to get one that can hold at least 2 c of liquid, and also one that can hold 5 qts so you’re not making oatmeal for yourself in a pot that’s too big. 

A Griddle pan is more of a luxury item, but I always recommend having one in your kitchen. You can make your best pancakes, arepas, bacon, grilled cheese, tuna melt, etc. It’s honestly a great tool to have on hand if you want to whip something up quickly. 

A sheet pan is important for so many reasons. You can make cookies, cake, bacon (I know I’ve said about 2 of the others already), roasted veggies, etc. I definitely recommend having at least one on hand. You’ll find that you’ve allowed yourself to enjoy brussel sprouts  smothered in parmesan cheese, and roasted cauliflower with garam masala and ginger for the first time ever. Just trust me, your oven is made for a varying amount of possibilities, and the right tools can get you started.

A baking dish/pan/casserole, whatever you want to call it, it’s a huge piece of either: cast iron, ceramic, glass, or clay that can be covered and it will, much like your sheet pan, allow for new ideas in the kitchen. Casserole is a very common word used by mostly older women from the south, but they aren’t just a dish your grandma cooked in the 50′s. French toast casserole is so impossibly custardy and delicious, you will thank the Gods that there has ever been something so wonderful in existence. You have stews, roasts, lasagna (uncovered, don’t be rude to your lasagna), and so many others. Just please, okay? Okay.  

Glass mixing bowls are a MUST. Okay, so some really important things about these bad boys: DON’T leave them on a hot stove because the heat will make them shatter and explode all over your kitchen. If you have pets or kids, I don’t have to tell you why this would be bad for potentially weeks on end. You can, however, makeshift a glass bowl and a boiling pot of water into a double boiler to melt your favorite chocolate chips to make fudge. Glass bowls are also non-absorbent, so they won’t retain bad odors or flavors when you use them in the kitchen. They’re also incredibly sanitary for the same reason.

A pair of Kevlar or other gloves meant for slicing and dicing in the kitchen. I recommend this no matter what level of experience you have. Professional chefs cut and burn themselves all the time, it is best you do what you can to protect your fingertips and nails. 

A metal spatula will help you scrape any bits and pieces that have stuck onto your stainless or ceramic pan. Please be sure to use carefully, the metal spatula itself is very temperamental and can ruin your pans forever. 

Cutting boards. There are, a whole litany of reasons you need a cutting board or 10 in your kitchen. I myself have 4 and I use all of them. Cutting boards are made of several different kinds of material. Ultimately, for me, I use a wooden one and an eco-friendly material cutting board set I got from Bed Bath and Beyond. Cutting board maintenance is, arguably, the most important thing when it comes to  purchasing one. Best way to clean a cutting board is to make sure you’re passing your sponge over the slits in the board left behind by your knife, in the same direction. In other words, don’t scrub your board in a circle, but trace over the cuts in the board to ensure proper sanitation of it. 

An electric thermometer. Okay, so show of hands, how many people have deep fried chicken, burned the outside and undercooked the inside? I don’t know of any single person who is just beginning, who hasn’t done it. An electric thermometer is your best friend. You can get a regular thermometer, that will require constant calibration, or you can get an electric thermometer and not have to worry about calibrating it as often. Perfectly juicy, succulent, and properly cooked chicken will measure at 165 degrees Farenheit. Anything beyond 180, expect it to be dry, but at least it was cooked properly! To calibrate a thermometer: bring water to a boil, and then place your thermometer in the water, allow it to come to 212 degrees Fahrenheit, then place your thermometer into an ice bath until it gets to 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Celsius would be 100 degrees boiling, and 0 degrees in ice. 

A colander is meant to strain out pasta water, and you’ve probably not seen it used for much else. But a fine mesh colander can be used to filter out your frying oil so you can reuse it instead of wasting it. This little thing is good for anything that requires draining: meat, starch from rice and potatoes before cooking them, washing all of your vegetables at once before getting started, and also, it can help with steaming your broccoli or shrimp when you don’t have a basket steamer.

A box grater in general, is a fantastic tool. They have different sides that allow you to do different things. From shredding cheese, potatoes, carrots, or zuccini. But the question a lot of people ask: what is that side with all the really tiny spaces in it? It’s a zester, and it goes so unnoticed for so long because most folx don’t know the best way to use it. The zester is great for adding a little elegance or pop of flavor into a dish. For example, if you use lemon pepper often, adding a zested lemon rind to your dish would bring out all that delicious acidity that you won’t get from just using the regular seasoning from a bottle. A little fresh lemon zest here, some grated nutmeg there, a little orange zest in your tea, these all pack a mean right hook. Try them out. 

Last, but not least: a timer, gentlefolx. I can not stress the utter importance of learning how long it actually takes you, the reader to complete a task from start to finish. Not everyone works at the same pace, so a recipe that says “prep time: 5 minutes”, might actually take you an hour, and that’s okay. Keeping a timer on hand so you can keep track of how long each task is taking to complete, or making sure you’re pacing yourself as things are bubbling away in the kitchen, is a great way to figure yourself out in the kitchen. I recommend listening to music, writing your ingredients on a white board that sits at eye level in your kitchen so you can refer to your recipe as you’re going without having to constantly look at your phone. 

I hope this helps every single one of you learn a bit more about what it means to begin your journey with food. 

[cncoh-damn]

Cupcakes

Summary: Babysitting wasn’t as hard as you thought it was. 

Word count: 2,850

Tags: @richukisbb

Wanna join the taglist?

When Richard told you he had a break from touring, you were ecstatic. One, you’d get to see your crush best friend again after Lord knows how many months. Two, with Richard coming back, it meant seeing Aaliyah again. While he and Yocelyn were on good terms (they had to be, if only for Aaliyah’s sake), you weren’t necessarily close with her. Civil, but not close enough to get to see Aaliyah often. At this point, you weren’t sure who you’re more excited to see: Richuki or little Aaliyah. But really, you didn’t care; they were two of your favorite people on the planet, even if Richard did get on your nerves sometimes.

But before you could get ahead of yourself, you remembered him mentioning there was still some last-minute stuff to do. Thankfully it’d probably only last a day or so, but still. You wanted to see your best friend and his adorable little daughter, goddamnit. Then again, you suppose you should be thankful for this. With a little extra time, you’d be able to pull together a little surprise for him, preferably something that didn’t involve a club, despite you two meeting at one.

And that’s why you’re bustling around your kitchen at nine in the morning, your speakers playing one of the many podcasts related to your course that you subscribed to. Eggs, flour, and other baking essentials lay on the counter as you look for the new piping tips you’d just gotten a few days ago, having watched one too many YouTube videos of other bakers trying Russian piping tips. Yeah, probably not the best idea to try them out so soon, especially as part of your surprise for your best friend and his little princesa. You poked your head into one of the cupboards, rummaging through it because you swear you put those piping tips somewhere in a cupboard. Your fingers brush against a plastic bag, and you cheer upon seeing that it held your new piping tips. 

That feeling of triumph was short-lived, however, when a knock resounded on your apartment’s door causes you to hit your head on the counter above. Ow.

With a few curses tumbling from your lips, you make your way over to the door, one hand rubbing your head as you try and school your features into something that won’t scare off whoever decided it was a good idea to knock on your door at 9 am. Settling for a somewhat-fake smile, you open the door, a polite greeting already on the tip of your tongue. Said greeting promptly dies when you make eye contact with an apologetic Richard and Aaliyah hugs your leg.

“Richuki?” He gives you a tiny smile as you bend down to pick Aaliyah up, giving her a squeeze in greeting.

“Hey shawty,” he says, and only then do you notice the bag he has with him.

“What happened?”

“Something came up with Yocelyn at the last minute, so…” He trails off, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why the two were here.

“I’m on babysitting duty?” You set Aaliyah down with a grin, watching her pad off to the kitchen, no doubt looking for any sweets you might’ve baked beforehand. Once you’re sure she can’t hear you, you turn back to Richard with a spark of panic in your eyes. “Dude, you know I don’t do well with kids.”

“I know, and it’s really on short notice, but c’mon, you love spending time with Aaliyah.” He gives you that look, the one that always convinces you to go along with whatever he’s got planned. It never failed him before, and it certainly didn’t fail now. The two of you hold eye contact for five seconds longer, if only for you to preserve your pride, before you look away with a sigh.

“Fine, fine,” you relent. “But–” Richard cuts you off with a hug before you could even finish your sentence, and butterflies suddenly explode in your stomach. Sure, you’ve hugged before, but it’s different now. It’s been months since you last saw each other, months since you realized that your feelings for him crossed the line of friendship, and this first affectionate gesture between the two of you wasn’t helping.

“I’ll see you two later okay?” Still dazed, you nodded, hoping that you weren’t visibly blushing.

“Yeah. Bye, Richuki.” He says goodbye to Aaliyah, who already found your Russian piping tips before giving you the bag you knew to be filled with several of his daughter’s things. Taking a deep breath, you shift the bag onto your shoulder before facing Aaliyah with a grin.

“Tia (Y/N)!” She has a piping tip clutched in one hand, and you kneel down to look at her.

“What is it, preciosa?” There’s a spark of curiosity in her eyes that’s eerily similar to Richard’s own, especially when you have something new in your arsenal of baking supplies, and you feel as if you know exactly where this is going.

“Que son estos?” Aaliyah holds up the piping tip for emphasis, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“They’re for making flowers, flores, on cupcakes,” you explain, taking it from her and showing the pattern of the holes on it. “See, you can make rosas with this one.” Her eyes widen, and goddamn if it didn’t remind you of your best friend.

“Can we try them, Tia? Por favor?” A chuckle slips past your lips as you shake your head, standing up and taking her hand before leading her to the kitchen.

“It’s still early, preciosa. Maybe later in the afternoon, si?” She pouts at that, but it disappears when you pick her up and set her down on one of the stools by your kitchen island. “For now, do you want breakfast?” 

“Si! What are you making, Tia?” You watch her take in the array of baking supplies spread out on the counter, setting the piping tip down by the others as you grab a bowl and a whisk.

“I was thinking pancakes,” you tell her, and there’s no missing how she practically beams at the thought of it. One previous experience with your pastry and sweets skills had her completely in love, and Richard swears you’re trying to steal his daughter by bribing her with food.

(”You know I can’t grill worth shit, right?”

“Does it look like that matters to her? She loves sweets!”

“Richuki, you’re her dad. Even if she did love the desserts I make, she loves you more, you dramatic ass bitch.”)

The day passes by fairly quickly; you and Aaliyah having spent a good chunk of it in the kitchen. Breakfast turned into brunch after you two decided to have bacon alongside the pancakes, something you two would keep to yourselves. Yocelyn trusted you enough to let you hang out with her daughter, and Richard was so sure that you’d be a good babysitter that he actually left her with you. You, the one who’s had only one (horrific) experience babysitting a couple of your hellish cousins; you, the one who repeatedly swears up, down, left, and right that you’re not good with children, that you’d only be able to look after a child for three, maybe four hours, tops. And now that you’re slowly proving yourself wrong, you’re not keen on losing that trust that he put in you.

Not that you could, but it’s not like you knew that.

“Tia? Can we make cupcakes now?” Now it’s nearing 3:45 in the afternoon, and after you two poked the butter from all sides, you deemed it soft enough for both the cupcakes and the buttercream frosting you planned to test the new piping tips with.

“Si. Now c’mon preciosa, can’t have your clothes getting dirty or your Papa would never forgive me.” As it turns out, Aaliyah loved being in the kitchen, especially when you or Richard were making something. She also loved helping out, even if it meant getting messy, something all toddlers inevitably ended up as, no matter how much or how little they helped in the cooking/baking process. Of course, Richard loved to spoil her (who wouldn’t?) so he bought her a little apron to wear whenever she wanted to help.

Once both of you had your aprons on, you set her on the stool again, grabbing a mixing bowl, a wooden spoon, and a sifter for the dry ingredients. The stand mixer had been plugged in at least an hour or so ago, so really, it was mostly combining the ingredients that needed to be done.

Forty minutes and several clumps of spilled flour later, the cupcakes were finally in the oven. Normally it takes you half that time to finish the batter and scoop it into the lined muffin tins, but you and Aaliyah might have had a little too much fun messing with the flour as you were sifting it. You set the timer before picking Aaliyah up and carrying her to the bathroom, where you two spent a good five minutes wiping the flour off your faces and butter from your fingers. With that done, the two of you migrated to the living room, settling in front of your TV as you pull up Netflix and let her choose something to watch. Halfway through the episode–gracias a Dios that she didn’t pick something like Peppa Pig–, you realize that it’s time to make the frosting.

“Aaliyah, Tia’s going to go back and check on the cupcakes, okay? Wouldn’t want to burn them by accident, now would we?” Aaliyah nods, though you’re pretty sure most of her attention is on the TV, and you slip back to the kitchen to start on the frosting. The tell-tale ding from the oven comes just as you begin to mix the butter and vanilla together, and you grab a pair of oven mitts before pulling the tin out. 

The smell of chocolate fills the air, and if not for the fact that the cupcakes literally just got out of the oven, you would’ve bitten into one, a mistake you made fun of Richard for making several years ago. Ah, memories. But now’s not the time to lose focus; you still had frosting to make after all.

With the cupcakes cooling in the tin, you turn back to the mixer, adding the powdered sugar before you grab the piping tips, some food coloring, and a couple of your pastry bags. Honestly, it doesn’t take long before the buttercream is firm enough for you to pipe it, so you get a spatula and shovel it into the bag.

“Aaliyah! C’mon preciosa, it’s time to frost!” But before that, you lay out a sheet of parchment paper so you could practice using the new piping tips. You made two different colors for the frosting: pink, because you know your goddaughter would love it, and green for the leaves. Yes. Frosting leaves for frosting flowers. Of course, you set aside some uncolored frosting to put on the cupcakes before you piped the rest on, so you hand Aaliyah a mini spatula of her own and show her how to spread the frosting on top. Once that was done, you pick up one of the bags–the one with the rose-like tip–and start piping, showing Aaliyah the flower that came out.

“Tia, it’s so pretty!” Her eyes sparkle and you smile, piping more flowers around it before grabbing the green frosting to make the leaves. Time passes by fairly quickly, and before you realize it, Richard already let himself in with the keys you hid behind the funny little owl clock in the hallway.

“Daddy!” Aaliyah’s the first to notice him, and you nearly drop the cupcake you were frosting when she yells. Nearly being the keyword here; you’d have a private mini breakdown if you actually did drop it. Richard’s quick to make his way to the two of you, ditching his jacket on your couch as a smile lights up his face.

“What are you two doing?” He asks, and you hold up both hands to show him the cupcake and the frosting as Aaliyah told him about your day. Soon, you realize that they left to go into the living room, probably some time after you began to really focus on the little details that you added onto the cupcakes. Too bad you ran out of edible gold-leaf; it would’ve made them stunning. Oh well, they’re beautiful enough as they are though. The layer of plain buttercream you and Aaliyah set down really made the colored frosting pop, and you smile as you arrange them on a plate.

“Cupcakes are done!” You call out, wiping your hands on your apron before snapping a picture with your phone. Ah, those are definitely going on Instagram. Hell, you might even tag Chris and Erick just to see their reactions; those two loved your desserts almost as much as Aaliyah did.

“Damn, (Y/N), these look good.” You nearly jump out of your skin when he speaks, and you shoot him a scowl, whispering that he should watch his language, even if his daughter was too busy staring at the cupcakes.

“I’m hoping they taste better than they look,” you quip back, gesturing to your flour-covered apron. “Aaliyah and I didn’t get to taste the batter before we baked them, isn’t that right, preciosa?” Sure you may have broken one of the cardinal rules of cooking and baking (taste everything, even the batter), but you weren’t going to risk little Aaliyah eating more batter than you would’ve allowed.

“Then we should have a taste to see if they are, right baby?” You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t melt every time Richard and Aaliyah interacted with each other, and you’d be the biggest liar if you claimed not to think that this was way too domestic for two best friends. To an outsider, it would definitely look like you two were dating, but... You’re not. As much as it pains you to acknowledge it, it’s the truth. You and Richard were just friends, and nothing more.

But he’s a good friend, possibly the best you’ve ever had, and he notices when your face falls a little, sees that tiny crease between your brows that always appears when you think of something that wasn’t really positive. And as your friend, he’s quick to drag your mind away from such thoughts, pushing a cupcake up to your lips. When you blink in surprise, he snickers, smearing buttercream all over your lips before taking a bite of the cupcake. There’s a minute scowl on your face at his actions (the audacity to use your own creation against you, honestly), but it disappears as you lick your lips. It’s the same recipe as you’ve always used, but damn if it doesn’t taste a little better now.

Meanwhile, Richard almost moans at how good both the cupcake and the frosting are. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t had your desserts in months or maybe because they really are better than most of the restaurants he’s been to, but there was something about them that tasted so much better than before. Dare he say it, dare he think it, but the cupcake, this little moment with you and his daughter in your messy kitchen as a children’s show plays in the background, this almost feels like home. A sharp poke to his side shatters his reverie, though he can’t help but look at you in a new light when you grin at him.

“Come on, Richuki. Comamos mientras vemos la TV, yeah? Aaliyah quiere terminar el espectáculo.” You don’t wait for him to reply, helping Aaliyah off the stool with one hand as you balance the plate of cupcakes with the other. He’s quick to follow, snagging a cupcake or two off the plate for him and Aaliyah to eat as you set it down on the coffee table.

Over the course of a dozen and a half cupcakes, the three of you watch the show that Aaliyah picked out, and one of you two would turn to her to ask for some context behind it. There wasn’t much of an answer from her though, she always shushed you both before you could finish asking. And as the orange light from the late afternoon sun turned dimmer and dimmer until night fell, you felt nothing but a quiet contentment, spending time with your best friend and your goddaughter.

Maybe this wasn’t how you planned to spend the day, but it was infinitely better than what you originally intended. Who knew cupcakes would make everything so much sweeter?

[ilovejared]

Day 12: Gifted (Mature)

God was dead—or, neutralized, at least, and somehow Darkness and Death being at the wheel had brought the world—or, universe or, multiverse or, whatever-the-hell—something like peace.

Dean took off for a last supply run. Everyone was coming over: Cas of course, Donna and Jody and Jody’s girls, bunch of the hunters from Michael’s world, Aiden and Krissy, Josephine, Eileen… even Donatello was crawling up out of his prophet-hole for Christmas dinner.

So, Sam had the Bunker all to himself on Christmas Eve. Gas-station presents wrapped in their traditional Sunday funnies sat under the tree. White twinkle lights and silver tinsel sparkled on the boughs. Red ribbon and green garland—“It’s called Winchester pine, Sammy! We have to!”—wound around the stair rail.

Place smelled like peppermint and pumpkin pie. Sam’s boots thumped the tiles, rang loud in the quiet before, between the chaos. 

Dean had the kitchen laid out just-so. But Sam could execute his plan without disturbing much. Big pot for boiling water. Baking dish. Mason jar of farmer’s market pasta sauce and Dean’s homemade, three-meat, grilled meatballs from the freezer. Sam set about heating, seasoning and assembling. Basil, fresh from the Bunker’s greenhouse. Good mozzarella that Dean liked to gripe about but always kept around because Sam snacked on it. 

Dish in the oven, tinfoil-topped. Sam set a timer on his phone and headed down to the storerooms. Took him some searching, but he found what he was looking for. Made his way back up the stairs and got to work transforming the library. 

Sam was reading in the map room when Dean got home.

“Heya Sammy!” 

“Hey.” Sam looked up.

“Good news! I found that douchey organic eggnog you—” Dean sniffed, squinted at him. “What am I smelling here?”

Sam put down his book and stood. “Baked ziti.” 

“You cooked?” Dean clanged down the stairs, bulging grocery bags in both arms.

Sam shrugged. “I reheated, mostly.” Took the bags and turned for the kitchen. “Go have a seat.”

“Damn, Sammy!” Dean’s footsteps trailed toward the table he’d set. “You went all out, huh?”

Sam grinned to himself. “I am capable of nesting too, y’know!” 

Click of Dean’s Zippo followed him around the corner. Sam put up the groceries and carefully pulled his ziti and garlic bread out of the warm oven. 

Dean stepped up behind and slid his arms around Sam’s waist. “I’ll hand it to you, man; you surprised me.”

Heat climbed Sam’s neck as Dean bunched up his shirt and scratched circles on his belly. “Grab the salads, huh?” He was not gonna let Dean distract him, let their meal get cold.

Dean huffed against Sam’s neck, but he got in line. Helped carry plates to the library, where he’d lit the candles, opened the wine. 

“Good stuff.” Dean picked up the bottle. “Is this—”

“Yeah.” Sam ducked his head. “Been sitting in that box—”

“Since Dad was here.” 

Sam peeked up. 

Dean licked his lips and thumbed the label. “Ain’t no sense lettin’ it collect dust.” Stuck out a hand. “Here.”

Sam passed him the glasses and Dean poured. 

“Sit!” Sam gestured. Grinned. “Or, I could pull your chair out for you—”

“Fuck you.” Dean sat.

“Merry Christmas!” Sam smiled, extra sweet.

Dean speared penne, spun his fork through stretchy cheese and scooped up sauce. “Holy shit, Sam,” with his mouthful, “this is awesome.” 

Blush lit Sam’s cheeks.

Dinner passed in easy silence. Clink of forks on plates and Dean’s pleased groans the only sounds. Sam stared. Watched Dean’s lashes flutter, lips and jaws work. Callused, crooked fingers lifted delicate glass, and Dean’s tongue flashed. Throat flexed as the wine washed down. 

Sam poured their second round. Dean jerked his chin in thanks. He dabbed his mouth—with his actual napkin, plucked from his actual lap—and raised a toast. 

“Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

Glasses tapped.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

Later—candles snuffed and dishes washed and funnies shredded on the floor—Dean spread Sam out on a blanket by the glittering tree.

“Want you, Sammy,” breathed on his skin, as gifted hands skimmed down his sides. 

Sam arched, sparked where they collided, muttered, “Yes, Dean. God.”

And Dean moved on him—stroking, stretching, kissing bruises in between his thighs—after all this time, Sam still reacted, bucked and writhed and trembled. Opened, moaned Dean’s name and took him, quick and deep and brutal. Beautiful. Sam roared. Soaked their bellies. Muscles quaked and tears escaped and Dean drove on. Hammering. Panting.

Dean was cleaning them, next thing Sam knew. Green eyes, swollen lips and sweaty shoulders shined in the soft light. Sam seized Dean, back of his neck and dragged him down. Kissed him. Tangled tongues and mingled breath. 

“Take me to bed,” Sam said.

Dean smirked. “Probably oughta straighten up in here first.”

Sam shook his head. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay, Sammy.” Kissing again. “Okay.”

———

Hat-tip to wetsammywinchester for the bunker greenhouse! Also I now lowkey ship Amara/Billie. O.O

Santa hopes you’ve enjoyed your wincestmas, in spite of the irl challenges. I’m gonna go on hiding here behind my long white beard for now (you know, so as not to spoil the mystery!) In the meantime, all my best to you and your elf. Santa is thinking of you. 

♡♡♡♡♡

[gourmet4living]

3 Amazing Brisket Rub Recipes

Gourmet Living

When it comes to making the perfect beef brisket, there are several crucial factors to consider.

First of all, the grill has to be set at just the right temperature. While that’s not an impossible task for (especially if you start with a state-of-the-art gas grill), you might be surprised at how difficult it is to pull off.

Second, the meat needs to be the highest-quality product you can get your hands on. Inferior beef will result in a disappointing brisket. It also needs to contain the proper ratio of lean meat and fat.

Lastly—and most importantly—the brisket should be properly seasoned before hitting the grill. Fortunately, in this category, you’ll have plenty of leeway.

The rub can be savory or sweet, spicy or mild, herbaceous or zesty—there’s no limit to the flavor combinations you can enjoy. Here, we’ve listed our three favorite recipes for amazing beef brisket rub.

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Basic Brisket Rub

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With its simple template of paprika, brown sugar, and oregano, this is an ideal rub for first-timers.

  Course Meat

Cuisine American

Keyword brisket rub

Author Darren Wayland

Ingredients

1/3 cup packed light brown sugar

1/3 cup regular paprika not smoked

3 tablespoons onion powder

3 tablespoons kosher salt

2 tablespoons garlic powder

2 tablespoons dried oregano

1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

To make the rub, combine all the ingredients in a medium-sized bowl. The mixture can be stored in an airtight container for up to 6 months if it's left in a cool, dry spot. Because of the brown sugar, this rub adheres well to the brisket.

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Texas-Style Brisket Rub

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Texas-style brisket utilizes a few more spices to give the flavor more complexity and a welcome kick.

Course Meat

Cuisine American

Keyword brisket, rub

Author Darren Wayland

Ingredients

1/4 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup paprika

1 tablespoon smoked paprika

3 tablespoons kosher salt

2 tablespoons garlic powder

2 tablespoons onion powder

1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon cayenne pepper

2 teaspoons ground cumin

2 teaspoons ground coriander

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

Instructions

Mix together all the ingredients in a medium bowl, breaking up any lumps in the brown sugar with the tips of your fingers. Like the basic rub, this one can be stored for up to 6 months in a cool, dry place, tightly sealed in an airtight container.

If you would prefer to play up the spicier notes of the rub, feel free to omit the brown sugar. Just be aware that this will result in a smaller yield, so it’s best to try this experiment when you’ll only be smoking a single brisket.

Print

Carolina-Style Brisket Rub

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The vinegary tang of mustard sets Carolina-style barbecue apart. Here, we've tried to play that up by adding dried mustard to the rub recipe.

Course Meat

Cuisine American

Keyword brisket, rub

Author Darren Wayland

Ingredients

1/4 cup paprika

3 tablespoons kosher salt

2 tablespoons light brown sugar

2 tablespoons ground cumin

2 tablespoons chili powder

1 tablespoon white sugar

1 tablespoon dried mustard Colman’s works best

1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper

2 teaspoons cayenne pepper

Instructions

Mix all the ingredients together in a medium bowl. This rub can be stored in a cool, dry place in an airtight container for up to 6 months.

Tips For Seasoning The Brisket

There’s no strict ratio for applying the rub to the brisket. Just pat the meat dry with plenty of paper towels and add as much of the seasoning mixture as it will hold. The portion that clings to the meat is the proper amount. Anything that falls onto the cutting board isn’t necessary and can be discarded.

Remember that if the rub contains a high concentration of salt, it’s important to wait until the last minute before applying it to the brisket. If the mixture is too salty, it will “cure” the brisket before cooking, leaving you with a jerky-like texture. Conversely, if the rub is low in salt, it’s fine to season the meat several hours before you plan to cook it.

Finally, make sure to discard any rub that’s come in contact with raw meat. If you suspect that you’ve made more rub than you’ll need, portion it out in advance so that you can set aside the amount you won’t be using.

Remember: Making smoked brisket isn’t a science so much as an art–the art of creating great barbecue. Once you’ve gotten these recipes down pat, feel free to tweak the ingredients to create your own flavor combinations.

Enjoy!

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[stephenettz894-blog]

The Beginners Guide to Do Smoking Like A Pro

The Low ‘N’ Slow barbeque movement is all about enthusiasts experiencing the delicious flavours of perfectly smoked meat. We know a thing or two about a good barbeque. And we know that a little extra time spent giving your meat the smoky treatment goes a long way. There’s a reason why Low ‘N’ Slow barbeque has enjoyed such a surge in popularity, and we want to help you become an expert. There is nothing better than sweet tender meat falling off the bone and melting in your mouth. But smoking is a hassle right? Wrong! Here is our guide to get you started.

To get cracking on becoming an expert smoker, read our frequently asked questions below or watch our introduction to our smokers hosted by Australasian Barbecue Alliance founder Adam Roberts. Adam’s neverfail recipe for perfectly smoked Pulled Lamb will knock the socks off your family and friends at your next low ‘N’ slow session.

FAQ: What’s the difference between a smoker and a BBQ? Smokers aren’t like the traditional BBQs you’re used to. Instead of putting your food directly onto the grill over direct heat to cook for a short amount of time, smokers use low and slow heat combined with smoke and moisture to infuse food with a smoky flavour when cooking.

The trick is to smoke at a low temp for a long time. The minimum should be 2 hours of smoking at 100-120 degrees to infuse that smoky flavour into your meats. Of course, cooking times will vary depending on the cut and size of meat so our tip is to use a meat thermometer to make sure it’s cooked through.

FAQ: What’s the difference between hot smoking and cold smoking? It’s important to note that our products are designed to be used for hot smoking only.

Hot smoking refers to a cooking technique that uses both heat and smoke to cook your food. Most popular items to smoke are ribs, brisket, lamb and chicken. Since the meat is served immediately, proteins being hot smoked don’t require curing.

Cold smoking refers to a method of preserving meat to extend its shelf-life without exposing it to heat, usually at temperatures below 30 degrees Celsius. We recommend cold smoking be performed by trained professionals in accordance with food safety standards

FAQ: What is the difference between each type of smoker? There are basically 3 types of smoker: Charcoal, Gas and Electric.

Charcoal smokers: Unbeatable for smoky flavour but harder to master for first time smokers as the temp is a lot harder to regulate than gas or electric. Electric smokers: Simple and easy to use. Plug in, set the temp and walk away. The smoky flavour may not be as authentic as a wood smoker. Gas smokers: Like an electric smoker, the temperature is easy to regulate. Powered by LP Gas, you’ll have to check your tank to make sure you don’t run out of gas half way through a long smoking session.

OR – Simply buy a smoker box and wood chips and convert your existing BBQ into a smoker! To do this, fill the smoker box with wood chips and place directly onto the grill with the burner turned on low. Food is placed on the opposite end of the BBQ with the burner directly under the dish turned off.

FAQ: What smoker styles are available?

There are several versions of BBQ smokers. Vertical (cabinet and bullet), Offset, Kamado Joe and kettle.

Vertical (Bullet; Charcoal): Low cost and easy to use, vertical smokers are great for first timers (Pro Q Frontier/Gasmate).

Vertical (Cabinet): Usually gas or electric. Square cabinet-like design with drawers for easy access to the water tray and wood chip box (Bradley/Arrosto).

Offset: This charcoal smoker has a dedicated firebox offset to the side of the main cooking grill. Heat and smoke are generated in the firebox and pass through the main chamber and out through a ‘chimney’. This style has much more cooking space than box or vertical models. We stock the Texas Smoker (pictured below).

Kamado Joe: Ceramic smokers are the true “jack of all trades” BBQ. These smokers can be used as grills, hi-temperature ovens, or low and slow smokers. Their thick ceramic walls retain heat better than any other type of smoker while using very little charcoal. Ceramic smokers are easy to use, have better insulation and use less fuel.  We stock the Kamado Joe Classic/Dragon range.

Kettle: Weber kettle Pellet: Trager wood pellet grills

FAQ: Which wood/chips should I use in my smoker? So you’ve got your smoker and you’re ready to smoke delicious meats at your next barbeque. Next, you’ll need wood. Here’s a handy cheat sheet to make sure you pick the right wood chips, chunks or pellets for the perfect flavour every time!