#Double burner hot plate

[tianmadianqi]

The Countertop Electric Double Hot Plate Burner features two independently controlled burners housed in a sleek, durable stainless steel frame. Each burner is equipped with its own temperature control knob, allowing precise adjustment from low simmer to high heat. This flexibility enables users to cook various types of dishes simultaneously without the need for multiple stovetops.

Key Features

Stainless Steel Housing: The durable stainless steel exterior not only enhances the burner's aesthetic appeal but also ensures longevity and easy cleaning. It resists stains and corrosion, maintaining its sleek appearance even with regular use.

Temperature Control: Each burner is equipped with adjustable theratic controls, providing precise temperature settings for various cooking needs, from simmering sauces to searing meats.

Compact and Portable: Designed for countertop use, this burner is compact yet powerful, making it suitable for small kitchens, dormitories, RVs, and catering events where space is limited.

Investing in the Countertop Electric Double Hot Plate Burner For Cooking ensures not only enhanced cooking efficiency but also flexibility in meal preparation, making it a valuable addition to any modern kitchen setup.

[friendlyneighorhoodchaosdemon]

Catharsis | Adrian Chase

this fic is race/ hair type/ body type neutral; why does that matter? If you feel I’ve overlooked something in regard to this, no matter how “small”, please let me know!

@stealsteels threatened to BEAT ME UP (real) if I didn't post this so I'm doing it.

(…in all seriousness, thank you for all of your encouragement, it truly means the world ♡)

word count | 5.1k (woof)

warnings/ notes | 18+, fluff/ smut; clit rubbing/ fingering, spanking, vibrators, kink discovery/ exploration, trusting and communicating with your partner (hot), service top Adrian, masochistic reader/ sadistic Adrian if you squint. I don't write piv :)

as noted, this contains spanking. It is of course fully consensual, something reader explicitly asks for and (most importantly) NOT a punishment, but I realize it still isn’t everyone's thing, so please be mindful.

also this is incredibly self indulgent and tbh maybe a little out of character, and turned out a lot fluffier and domestic that I intended.

ao3

minors/ ageless blogs please respect my wishes and do not interact with my work/ blog. I will block you :)

You hear him before you see him. A double shift at Fennel Fields followed by hours of shooting a bunch of appliances in the woods with Chris and he still careens into your apartment with all the intensity and finesse of a hurricane. The endless amount of energy he seemed to have was sometimes baffling, and while it was usually fun to have your own personal Energizer bunny around (especially in bed), sometimes you really envied it. 

You especially envy it on days like today when you felt like you could barely drag yourself through a comparatively low stakes and low effort day.

That feeling doesn’t last long though, because as soon as he toes his shoes off (a task that takes significantly longer than it should because he refuses to untie his laces, insisting that it’s faster even though it clearly isn’t) and rounds the corner into the kitchen, he shoots you his signature smile and you instantly feel that warmth you only seem to feel around him. 

Shoes successfully removed, he ambles over to where you stand in front of the stove, fanning yourself as you lower the heat of the burner. Strong arms instinctively find their way around your waist and he nuzzles into your side, dropping tiny kisses to your cheek. Said kisses are, of course, mostly a means of distraction so that he can reach around you to grab the spoon you'd been stirring with and stick the entire thing in his mouth, but it’s still cute enough to earn him a few kisses in return.

You return to stirring (with a new spoon), humming your replies as he launches into his recap of the day’s events. The recaps are rarely linear (sometimes they're not even coherent), so by now you’re used to the way he flip flops between how crazy the recoil from Chris' Desert Eagle was (“I mean yeah okay, I shot it without his permission, but holy shit babe that thing is crazy! Maybe I should get one. I mean when you think about it it’s actually kind of weird that we don’t have matching guns. Do you think he would think that was weird? If I got the same gun as him?”), to how he’d broken a guy's kneecaps after he'd caught him pushing his girlfriend into a wall in a dark alley, to how some other guy had actually proposed at Fennel Fields (“but don’t worry babe, when I propose it’ll be somewhere way nicer. Like at least  Olive Garden or better.”)

The last bit earns him an eye roll and a nudge to the ribs, but you still can’t help the grin that pulls at your lips.

With dinner done, he finally disentangles himself from you to grab the plates and silverware and plops down in front of the tv. Tonight you’re finishing up the latest season of Barry (a show he finds hilarious, more for the gore than the actual comedy), but the second you take your seat next to him his arms immediately find their way around your middle. 

“You know you can’t eat if you’re holding me, right?” you question, arching an eyebrow at him.

Undeterred, he pulls you even tighter, insisting that he “totally can though!”

“I’ve mastered the art. See, look,” He demonstrates said “mastery” by pulling you into his chest and bringing his plate around so that it sits on his open palm in front of you. He grins down at you, hopeful you’ll just ignore the high likelihood of pasta sauce spilling down your front with one wrong move. You pat his cheek and shake your head no, moving to separate your bodies. He pouts, truly pouts at you and once again find yourself unable to hide your smile. 

“Okay okay, what about if you lay down on my chest and I put my plate on your back?” 

“Then how would I eat?” 

He ponders this for a second until you see another lightbulb go off.

“Okay, what about you sit in my lap and hold your plate and I-”

“I swear, if you suggest putting your plate on my head...”

“You didn’t let me finish!” 

Another skeptical look before you sigh and motion for him to finish.

“...But yes I was going to say that.”

The way he seems to so desperately want this to work is perhaps a little annoying, but mostly very cute and endearing. Another eye roll makes it clear that his request is out of the question, and he’ll, for the time being, have to settle for eating like a normal person.

You turn your attention back to the screen just in time to see a guy's brains splatter as he gets shot in the head point blank. Despite the fact that you know about Adrian’s propensity for violence, it still gets to you and you wince. He pulls you tightly into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder and you settle into his touch, muttering your thanks into his sweatshirt and pressing a grateful peck to his chin. You sigh contentedly and press your face into his side and your eyes drift closed as you inhale his scent.

A bark of laughter jolts you awake. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, but sure enough when you look up the credits are rolling. You yawn and stretch, craning your neck to look up at him and he seems to immediately sense your stare. He smiles that smile, the one that’s sweet like his normal one but also not, doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s thinking about something not so sweet, and the proof of what he exactly he's thinking is now pressing up against you. You turn to face him fully, taking in his lopsided smile and the slight splotchy blush creeping over his neck and plant a small teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Obviously this isn’t enough for him, and he leans over to gently grab the back of your neck and pulls you to him. The kiss is… kind of a lot, to be honest, but most things with Adrian are. Overeager as always he wastes no time licking along the seam of your mouth, asking for entry. You don't oblige him, not yet, opting to tease him instead as you nip his bottom lip.

You hug him closer, feeling the muscles in his back flex under your touch as he tilts your head to the side to suck at the skin of your neck. You move to straddle him but he's already getting impatient and makes a frustrated sound as he grips your thighs and pulls you the rest of the way into his lap. With you seated fully on top of him, he moves one hand to your hip to hold you solidly in place while the other snakes up under your shirt. Adrian is rarely smooth and tonight is no exception. His hands move over you as if he's unsure where to go or where to stop, touching you like it's the first time. They ghost over your stomach and up between your breasts before finally settling on your ass in a nice firm hold.

He finally frees your neck, laving sloppy kisses over your tender skin before pulling away completely. The momentary loss of contact is enough for you to come back to your senses and you push lightly against his chest.

“Hi.” Hi? You scoff at yourself. Great start. 

You have no idea why you’re feeling so self-conscious all of a sudden, especially when he's looking at you like that.

The way he noticeably focuses when you have something to say, absorbing your every word is endearing but sometimes it also feels so intense. Especially now, when he’s sitting here, half hard underneath you, eyes growing wide and curious under his large frames.

You gather yourself and clear your throat.

“I uh, I actually wanted to talk about something. To ask you something, actually. I mean, we obviously don’t have to do it tonight, or do anything tonight. I mean I know you’ve had a really long day so I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it tonight, or at all even, if you don't want to. I don’t even know if it’s something you’d be interested in so, no pressure, obviously.” 

You’re way too aware of the fact that you’re rambling, which is typically more of an Adrian thing than a you thing, but despite (or maybe because of) your awareness, you can’t seem to stop. The words just keep tumbling out, and now you’re getting flustered and a little bit annoyed with yourself, in large part because it's Adrian for Christ's sake. He's never judged you for your desires and you know it's not in his nature. Even now he just sits there, ignoring his own arousal, patiently waiting for you to get the words out, tracing comforting (albeit distracting) shapes against the tops of your thighs. In spite of all this you still struggle with simply just saying what you want– what you need. You take another breath.

"I want…" 

You had what felt like the most supportive partner in the world, so why did this feel so fucking hard?

He nods, squeezing your sides, encouraging you to continue. “Tell me what you want. Tell me and I'll give it to you.” 

"I, uh, I want you to spank me." You hold your breath, gauging his reaction carefully.

He immediately perks up at this and just like that, you’re at ease again. Not even a hint of the hesitation or confusion (or even worse, judgment or disgust) you’d dealt with the few times you’d brought it up with previous partners. Not even the well meaning (but kind of annoying) "I don't want to hurt you" you'd come to expect. Then again, this is Adrian, your Adrian, and now you’re wondering why you were even worried in the first place. 

Then again, it wasn't like this was exactly a shocking revelation. Adrian already knew you liked some pain and he’d been more than happy to give you the occasional playful spank before, in and out of the bedroom. Even though what you're asking for now was much different, his reaction is a huge relief.

For his part, he sits there, fucking beaming at you. His eyes drift to your lips again, tongue sneaking out to lick his own as he leans in to nip at you this time. For a moment he lingers, like he can’t decide whether he wants to kiss you or move back down to your neck. He goes with the former, pulling you into a searing kiss. You don’t consider yourself the type to get easily flustered, but fuck if he isn’t literally taking your breath away right now. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, payback for earlier, and you gasp. His hand moves to cradle the back of your neck again, squeezing just the tiniest bit. You know he's barely using any of his strength and that knowledge makes you shudder.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

You laugh, “I um…” To be honest, you kind of hadn’t really put much thought into logistics and the kiss wasn't making it any easier to think.

You don’t have to flounder for too long though, because now that you’ve put the idea into his head, he’s running with it. 

“Want me to bend you over the couch?” 

Another thing most people don’t know about Adrian, and you’re thankful for this, is how… focused he can be. Especially when properly motivated.

“Or I could put you over my lap. Get you nice and relaxed and just… help get all the tension out. Would you like that? Hm?” Hia hands have drifted back to your ass and he pinches it now to emphasize his point, making you yelp.

You can tell how excited he’s getting both by the way he continues to ramble and by the way he’s started to absentmindedly rut up against you. You don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it because he’s still talking, seemingly completely unaware.

“Maybe we should get a paddle. I’d love to see your ass jiggle when I hit it with a paddle. Fuck, do you have one? Should we get one right now? Or a riding crop. Or- what are those things with all the tassels?”

“Adrian, do you really want to buy a flogger right now? Or do you want to take me to bed?"

“Right, right.” Without warning, he stands and you do your best to cling to him as he makes his way to your bedroom. From this position it’s harder to grind against him, but that doesn’t stop you from trying. You press your lips against the long column of his throat, moving up from his Adam’s apple to kiss behind his ear. You move back down and up again, repeating the action on the other side. He groans, deep and guttural and filthy, and you think it’s the loveliest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Stopstopstop, you’re distracting me!” He huffs, cutely, like he really has the audacity to be annoyed right now.

You grin into his neck, unable to stop yourself from softly nibbling his ear.

He places you down on the bed, crawling over you to kiss down your neck and you arch into him, hands sliding down his chest, toned muscles apparent despite the thick material of his sweatshirt, before reaching his waistband. You move to tug them down, desperate to feel him in your hands but he quickly grabs both your wrists and holds them above your head. He pulls back to look at you, smiling a very different smile now.

You try in vain to tug your wrists free, whining for him to let you go so you can touch him, but the look he fixes you with is enough to shut you up. Slowly, slowly he trails his free hand down your chest and slips it into your shorts, rubbing you over your panties. 

You moan, clamping your thighs around his hand and grinding yourself into his touch, growing more and more desperate by the second. When he finally he relents and releases your hands you're panting, but you waste no time wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his curls as he returns to your neck, kisses turning to bites.

He rucks your shirt all the way up and you lift so he can finish tugging it over your arms. You shiver, fully exposed to him now and he bends down to take one nipple in his mouth, alternating between gentle bites and sucks while circling the other with his thumb and you sigh dreamily, pushing up into his touch.

Your hand drifts back to the nape of his neck, absently dragging your nails up and down the back of his scalp, dark curls running through your fingers and he groans against your skin. You move for his pants again but he bites your nipple that much harder; a clear warning.

He releases your nipple and you think he's switching to the other one but he instead fixes you with another stern look. His voice is lower this time when he speaks.

“Are you gonna behave, or do I need to tie you up?”

You can’t help the shiver that runs through you, or the whimper that escapes your lips at his words.

As enticing as the offer is, you’re starting to get antsy. You nod your head and mutter your assent and he smirks, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

The look he gives you this time is much softer but it still makes your blood run hot, makes you feel like the electricity in your nerves is sparking just under your skin. You turn your head to the side and without missing a beat he grabs your chin lightly, guiding your gaze back to him.

Heat rushes up your neck to your cheeks, but you make yourself hold his gaze. His pupils are almost completely blown black now, cheeks ruddy and lips set in a firm line. 

"I care about making you feel good.” The sincerity in his voice floods you with warmth.

“Are you gonna let me?”

You whimper, wishing he’d just go back to kissing you, but you know the question isn’t rhetorical.

“Yes, yes, please Adrian just- please”, you pant, stretching up, wordlessly begging him to kiss you again, to do something, but he doesn't relent. He just holds your gaze while you pout and squirm under him.

“Now, tell me what you want.”

You peer up at him, uncertain of what he means. “I told you, I want you-”

“No, tell me exactly what you want. Be specific. Do you… do you want me to punish you?” His voice quiets a bit at the end.

“No! No, I don’t. I don’t want it to be a punishment. I-I don’t know. I just…  I do want it to hurt but... I more just want to not think, just for a while. Sorry, that’s not what you asked but-”

“No, no that’s good. That’s good.” 

He finally lets go of your wrists and kneads the muscles in your shoulders. The warmth and pressure from his hands soothes your nerves and you sigh and smile up at him.

“Alright, get over my lap then.”

You scramble to obey, already dizzy with anticipation. You feel giddy with it, and despite your nerves you couldn't deny how badly you wanted this– wanted to feel his hands on you, wanted him to make you feel release only the way he could.

You splay yourself over his spread legs, head resting on the pillow you’d grabbed. Now that you’re unable to see what he’s doing, your mind starts to race. Your pulse quickens, and you start to get that familiar floaty feeling you get whenever he takes control and you get to let go.

He puts one hand on the small of your back and with the other he finally, mercifully, tugs at your waistband. You can feel just how hard he's gotten now as he presses into your hip, but he doesn’t move. Adrian isn't much for teasing but he makes no move to touch you, so you wiggle your hips in the hope that it’ll get him to do… something. He presses firmly on your lower back and you huff, but still yourself anyway. He slowly smooths over the muscles in your lower back, pressing deeper and deeper until you relax into his touch. 

He moves lower, gripping the meat of your ass, kneading it softly, and you’re not sure if the gentle touches are genuine or if he’s trying to get you to let your guard down before he starts.

He unceremoniously spreads your legs, dipping his hand between your thighs before ghosting his fingers over your lips. He moves to circle your clit over your underwear and you moan into the pillow, bucking your hips back into his hand, searching for more of whatever he’s willing to give you.

You should’ve known better again, because as soon as you do, his hand comes down squarely against your ass. The pain isn’t so bad, but the sound is enough to make you jump. 

"Oh." he says quietly, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I see."

You're not sure exactly what he means by this but you don't have time to think about it too hard before he brings his hand down again, this time on the other cheek. He stops briefly and you move to turn and ask if that's all he intends to do, but you feel another stinging slap before you get the chance.

“You said you wanted it to hurt, right?” You mumble a "yes", high and breathy, into the pillow that’s smushed against your face.

"Then ask me nicely."

Fuck.

"Adrian, please, please, fucking- just - harder please."

The pace he sets now is unrelenting. You pretty quickly become aware of the fact that he's making sure there's no pattern for you to predict and the thought makes you even giddier.

One smack, and then another, the stinging pain hovering just on the edge of too much, dulling all of your other senses. You start to get that familiar hazy feeling, and you relax into it, welcome it, will it to take you over completely.

Left, left, left, right, left again, one sharp, followed by a few open handed ones to your thigh in quick succession. All the while he's rubbing small, tight circles against your clit with his other hand.

His fingers move to tease your entrance, rubbing small circles into you and like the slaps he's doling out they seem to have no predictable rhythm.

"I think… this is really unlocking something in me," he mutters, more to himself than to you. 

You’d been so focused on what he was doing that you only now realize how embarrassingly loud your moans had been, but his comment draws something out of you. You’re whining and writhing against him, not even trying to look dignified at this point, the sensation verging on overwhelming but so so good.

Suddenly it’s gone, and you whine in protest. For a moment everything is still, and you realize for the first time how quickly your heart is beating.

“Still okay?”

You don’t think you can form words right now, but you groan an affirmative, hoping it gets your message across. Adrian gently tilts your chin so he can look into your eyes and confirm. “Yes?” he questions, and your heart warms at the way he asks, at the way he always wants to be certain. The way he's biting his lip also tells you you’re not the only one who's enjoying this.

You exhale sharply, forcing your brain and mouth to actually form words, making sure your "yes" is clear. He nods once in return and releases your chin, and you sigh as you sink into the pillow again. Once you're comfortable, he starts again.

"Good girl. Keep being good for me.”

The sharp stinging pain and the dull thudding of his open palm are starting to run together, all becoming one sensation. He grips the fat of your ass again with one hand, releases it and brings the other hand down. He repeats this a few more times; squeezing, releasing and then bringing his hand down quickly before the blood has the chance to rush back under your skin, gauging your reactions each time, cataloging every whimper, moan and twitch, every shudder, flinch and squeal and rewarding each in kind.

“You like that? You like it when I hurt you like this? You like my fingers rubbing your pretty little clit like this?”

With this he runs his fingers back through the slick between your legs, teasing a finger against your opening.

"Jesus, fuck, look at you. Is this all for me? Yeah? Answer me." You can’t help but whine at that, telling him "Yes, yes it's all for you, all for you Adrian!" hiccuping and helpless to do anything but feel him.

He continues, “I think I know what you want, but you know you have to use your words,” he chides. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes! Pleasepleaseplease” You’re nearly sobbing now, tears you hadn't even noticed before falling freely now.

“I think I have something you’ll like even better,” he says, and your heart leaps at the thought of what he could possibly have in mind. You move to turn to him, but a firm hand on your back keep you in place.

He draws his hand back and you brace yourself for the inevitable impact, but it doesn't come. You huff, knowing full well he's absolutely got the shittiest grin on his face but you refuse to turn around this time, refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing your annoyance. So the two of you just sit there, momentarily suspended, at the world’s tensest, horniest impasse. You, over his lap, your panties hanging off of your ankle, and him, with presumably one hand raised in the air and one tracing faint shapes into the skin of your inner thighs.

"You," he starts, taking a deliberate breathe like he's trying to compose himself, trying to stave off the arousal he's thus far been able to keep at bay. He’s still got his pants on, and the combination of that and you writhing and moaning on top of him is starting to become unbearable.

"You have no fucking idea what you do to me."

He sounds dangerous now, voice too measured and now the tension is really starting to get to you.

He’s moving on the bed, doing his best to not jostle you too much but you can still feel his hips and cock shift under you as he reaches over to the drawer on your side of the bed. 

You hear him rifling through it, various objects clattering as he tosses them around. You use this time to ground yourself, taking a few deep breaths but they do little to stop the way your blood is still rushing under your skin. You have an idea of what he’s looking for, but you don’t dare turn around to confirm your suspicions. 

Finally, the rustling stops and he chuckles triumphantly.

He’s quiet again. Suspiciously, unnervingly quiet. Adrian is so rarely quiet that when he is it's noticeable. He’s still lazily running his fingers between your thighs, purposefully avoiding your clit this time, despite the insistent roll of your hips. Like he’s got all the time in the fucking world.

You hear the telltale buzz of the Magic Wand behind you, but he doesn’t give you time to register it before he pushes the head right up against your clit. You cry out, the sensation immediately far too intense, but despite your struggle he continues to firmly hold you in place. You whine pathetically, the pressure and vibration too much too soon, and he eases up just a little so the vibrations are still strong, but not so overwhelming.

You keep squirming, you can’t help it, and he moves the toy from your clit. This time you chase it, now desperate for stimulation and he chuckles above you and spanks your ass again.

“Fuck!” You cry out, burying your face into the pillow again. You know how you probably look, completely fucked out, tears splilling freely from your eyes now as you sob ugly and way too loud sobs, but you can't think about that right now. You were close, so so close. You just needed that extra little push.

“You’re doing so well baby. Can you take a few more?” and he asks so sweetly you can't even think about saying no.

Adrian returns to rubbing the small of your back, his voice a little softer now. He knows the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, and he always knows how to get you over the edge.

You gasped an “uh-huh”, arching into his touch and this time he allows it and repositions the toy directly against your clit again. Despite his softer tone, his hand comes down again just as hard and unrelenting as before and you’re honestly glad he isn’t going softer now that he knows you’re close.

He turns the vibration up a little more and the extra stimulation is exactly what you need. You feel your body seize momentarily as you clench and shake and for a split second everything feels still before your orgasm crests and breaks over you. 

You hold onto that feeling for as long as you can, letting the wave break and settle and feeling your brain go blissfully hazy.

You feel floaty, your body feeling absolutely spent, wrung out completely and everything in that moment feels so perfect.

Adrian slowly ghost gentle touches over your back and down over your ass and thighs. You feel something cool and sigh contentedly as he rubs lotion into your stinging flesh.

You work to steady your breathing, reveling in the feeling of his gentle touch and the sweet praises he mumbles.

He knows you sometimes get a little dizzy and fucked out after you cum, (loves it, really) so he waits for you to gather yourself. Once he finishes you roll onto your stomach.

You wouldn't blame him for being self satisfied or even cocky in this moment, but the smile he wears now is anything but. It's just warm and sweet, like him. 

He grabs one of the small hand towels you keep in the bedside drawers and gently wipes you down, knowing how much you hate the feeling of sweat on your skin after and helps you pull a fresh pair of underwear and one of his oversized shirts on as you settle into his lap.

“Was it.. was it good for you? Was it too hard?” You hear the little bit of worry start to creep into his voice and you’re quick to reassure him.

“No, no not at all. It was perfect Adj. You know I would’ve stopped you if something was wrong.”

He visibly relaxes at this, and resumes running his fingers over your tender flesh, humming softly.

It’s quiet, and for a while the only sound you’re aware of is your breathing. When he speaks again, it’s like he’s already in the middle of a thought.

“But seriously. Whatever you need, you know I’m happy to do it for you. And you know how much I love taking care of you. I just always want to make sure I make you feel good, you know?”

You smile at his confession. “Yeah, I know. And thank you. Seriously."

You clear your throat. “It's just nice to have someone who cares, you know?”

He hums thoughtfully, still rubbing your skin gently.

"I know you care about me as a person, and I'm not saying you're the only one who does. I meant more, it's nice to have someone who cares about making me feel good. Not to say that other people were just using me for sex but… with you it's just,” you go quiet again. “It’s just different."

“So thank you. For… this. For not being weirded out by it, I mean. And for doing it, of course.”

You sit up so you can look him in the eye now and he pulls you into him fully, arms tight and secure. The last thing you're aware of before you drift off this time is his scent as he kisses your temple.

[mistergandalf]

Hollandaise is not just for chefs! You can make it too!

For @theweathermellon and also the rest of you. Beware though. Once you know how to do this, you're gonna want to make eggs benedict at home ALL the time.

These instructions are VERY detailed so that you understand the process! You'll the get hang of it if you practice. Recipe under the cut!

OKAY so first: your basic measurements. The numbers below are to make enough hollandaise to cover ONE serving of eggs benedict. If you're making this for two people, double it. Three people? You might be able to get away with two egg yolks still, depends on how much hollandaise people like. I like to drown my eggs benny soo that's me.

READ THE DIRECTIONS IN FULL BEFORE YOU START MAKING THIS OR YOU'RE GONNA WASTE EGGS

INGREDIENTS

1 egg yolk from a large egg (if you're using an extra large egg, you might need a little more of the other liquid ingredients. I don't recommend using smaller than a large egg)

1/2 tablespoon milk (I use half & half a lot of the time bc I have that more often)

lemon juice to taste (start with a very light teaspoon and work your way up or you're going to have a VERY lemony hollandaise. I recommend squeezing a real lemon, because bottled lemon juice has lemon oil added to it and it changes the taste a bit.)

salt & pepper to taste (go easy on the salt. you can always add more, but you can't take it out)

1/2 cup SALTED butter (you can sub unsalted if you must, but you'll have to add more salt anyway, and it's just not the same. trust me)

AND NOW HOW TO MAKE IT. I'm going to give you TWO ways to make it. The first is the way I do it when I'm just making it for myself, because the measurements are so small, and it's just easier with less cleanup. The second is the way I do it when I'm making enough for several people, as it feels more worth it. Here we go.

THE MICROWAVE WAY

Melt your butter in a measuring cup you can pour from. Don't let it pop or overheat! Just enough so that there's nothing solid left in the cup. If your butter is too hot, it'll cook your egg yolk, and you'll have to start over.

Whisk together the egg yolk, lemon juice, salt, and pepper in a small microwaveable bowl. Don't do the milk and the lemon juice at the same time, or your milk will curdle.

Whisk in the milk. Stirring is not an alternative. Whisk it.

SLOWLY pour a thin stream of butter into your egg yolk mixture as you continue to whisk it. Don't pour it all in at once! You're making an emulsion, which is when you combine two ingredients that don't usually want to combine. You have to do it slowly so that they actually mix!

Pop that baby in the microwave at 50% power (or power level 5) for 1-3 minutes, taking it out to re-whisk every 15-30 seconds. This is where it gets tricky! The less you're making, the less time it needs, and the more often you need to whisk it. This is not the time to multitask. Watch your sauce.

Your hollandaise is done when it's shiny and JUST thick enough where you can see lines from where you've whisked it. Any thinner and it'll just be slop on your plate. Any thicker, and - well, it'll become thin again. Because it'll be too hot and it'll break. You'll know you've broken your sauce when you just have a yellow oil with tiny, whispy egg bits floating in it. If this happens, well - we'll talk about that in a minute.

Taste your sauce. Add in extra salt, pepper, or lemon juice as you need until it tastes the way you want!

THE FANCY WAY (ON THE STOVE)

Do steps 1-4 above, but instead of whisking the egg yolks in a bowl, you're gonna do it in a double boiler. That's the pot that has another pot that fits right on top of it. If you don't have one, you can put a glass or metal bowl over a pot of water - you'll want one big enough to sit on top without touching the water at all. You only need about an inch of water in the bottom pot. THE STOVE SHOULD BE OFF TO START.

Put your double boiler on the stove and turn on the burner to medium-high or high heat. How high the heat needs to be depends on what kind of stove you have. I have a gas stove, so I don't need it on full blast. If you have an electric stove, crank that baby all the way up. Your goal is to boil the water in your bottom pot.

As soon as the water starts to heat up, start whisking your sauce and do not stop. What you're doing now is emulsifying your sauce over heat without applying the heat directly to the sauce. If you stop, your sauce may start to boil and break on the sides, so keep going.

Your hollandaise is done when it's shiny and JUST thick enough where you can see lines from where you've whisked it. This is the same as #6 above. If you catch yourself thinking, "Oh, I just want it a LITTLE bit thicker," and it's already starting to stick to the whisk, stop yourself. Repent for your hubris before the food gods break your hollandaise.

Taste your sauce. Add in extra salt, pepper, or lemon juice as you need until it tastes the way you want!

OH NO! I BROKE MY HOLLANDAISE :(

It happens! Even I still do it sometimes, and I make it all the time. SOMETIMES, you can save it! What you'll want to do is take a small spoonful of HOT water, nearly boiling (if you're poaching eggs at the same time, the water from that pot is perfect) and drop it into your sauce. Then whisk for your life and pray for mercy. If it forms back together into a nice, smooth, shiny yellow sauce, the food gods have answered your prayer.

If you try that and it doesn't work, then you'll have to start over. Sorry :(

AND THAT'S HOW YOU MAKE HOLLANDAISE. And an additional tip for poaching eggs: Add a little bit of vinegar to your water - just like a teaspoon or so. Your water should be a nice, rolling boil - not boiling out of control. And stir your water into a lazy whirlpool and drop your egg into the middle of it, from as close to the water as you can manage without burning your fingers. You're welcome.

[shywhumpauthor]

The Merry Whump of May—Day 1

“No Pain, No Gain”

Compass | Haphephobia | Kitchen

Masterlist

Cw: descriptive mentions of gore, implied amputation, heavily conditioned Whumpee, descriptions of past violence, unstable Whumper, obsessive thoughts

Warm water bled through Whumpee’s fingers, foaming slightly with soap as their hands dipped in and out of the sink. Hot water ran smoothly from the faucet, draining down on the dishes as they slowly picked through the mountain of plates they were to clean.

Their sleeves were rolled up to their elbows, but even then they couldn’t stop a few drops from soaking the fabric. On a normal day, something like that might have bothered them, tugging at the corner of their mind until it finally forced them to change into a fresh shirt and start their task over from the top, replace the clean dishes in the sink and repeat the entire process of soaking, scrubbing, and drying, a steady cycle which they had finally fell into a smooth rhythm with.

Let it sit in the still water for twenty seconds, hold it under the faucet for ten. A small bit of soap on the sponge, thoroughly scrubbing away any bits of leftovers, a minute. Under the faucet again for fifteen. One final wash. Place on the drying rack, and then after they finished five plates, dry them the rest of the way with the hand towel and put them away neatly in the cupboard. Double check to make sure they were perfect, and if they weren’t, they cleaned the stack again. Same for bowls and cups.

Silverware was different. They let those soak while they cleaned all else, and then they would rinse them and clean by sponge, except for the knives which they did by hand.

A perfect task. Comprehensive and measurable, they could see their progress as they went. With the system they had set, it never took them longer than an hour to finish, though more often less depending on the dish load. It was just them and Whumper, after all, dishes were done every day, every evening without fail. It really only took them half an hour, which would take ten, if not for the regimen they strictly followed. Twenty seconds. Ten. A minute. Fifteen. Five plates.

Their eyes were focused intensely on the bowl which they now held, letting the water spill over the curve, tilting the bowl so it wouldn’t spray. Careful. Their fingers tight around the rim.

Whumpee had learned, perfectly, how to do them. They were careful. Mindful. Precise with what they were doing, unwilling to let their mind drift to anything but the feel of the sponge in their hand. Feeling slightly awkward in their hold.

They knew well enough to not mess up the dishes. If there was anything Whumper cared so much about, it was them. Whumpee wasn’t entirely sure why, but they had lost all interest. It didn’t matter. They knew they needed to get them done and do it right.

The last time they had fucked it up, the first and only time. Whumper had made sure they would do it right from then on.

Whumpee had only ever dropped two plates, in the months they’d been dutifully fulfilling the chore, and they had been quite surprised by Whumper’s reaction. How they were with everything else, Whumpee had been expecting a beating like no other. Forced to kneel on the shards, to brace their hands against the counter while Whumper grabbed the biggest fragment they could find and cut into their arms or back. Open their mouth and remain still as Whumper placed a porcelain shard between their teeth and commanded them to bite down and chew until their tongue and cheeks were torn to shreds. Palm shoved to a stovetop burner, and held there until the flesh of their hand began to melt away and stick to the heated metal, but Whumpee hadn’t done any of that.

An honest mistake, they shrugged, pointing Whumpee to the closet where the broom and dustpan were. All they had been given was three lashes for it, tacked onto the next punishment they had received for talking back. The second time, it had been five, but Whumpee didn’t dare even think to complain. It was bearable, a considerably gentler consequence than those Whumpee usually dealt.

They were really confusing. Whumper’s mood changed by the day. Sometimes they would be relaxed, lenient, telling Whumpee they could skip vacuuming that night and rather join them on the couch for a movie and hot chocolate. Sometimes they would be nice.

Other times, however…

Whumpee brought their attention back to the sink. They had fallen out of their pattern, quickly finishing off rinsing the dish in their hands. They had spent too long, and they cursed themself quietly, but it was better than cutting the task short.

Their hands, marred flesh twisted with scars, their fingers almost crooked with the amount of breaks and fractures suffered. They couldn’t move the last two on their left hand too well anymore, but they didn’t think about that.

The sponge felt loose in their grasp, something Whumpee wasn’t sure they’d ever get used to. But they didn’t care. They couldn’t mess up the dishes. Ten seconds. Twenty. A minute. Fifteen.

Whumper had made it very clear that the next time they found so much as a crumb stuck to the bottom of a plate, they’d do so much worse than take a finger.

————————————————

@themerrywhumpofmay

[amity206]

Fan Season: Season of Myth

a while ago I posted some concepts for a Fire Era temple season in the Daylight Prairie, so finally (after much going through different spirit concepts) I’ve got the spirits and some of the quests for Season of Myth.

First, the area. My thought was that it could be a dormant volcano that the Ancients built a temple into, connecting the volcano to Megabird. It’s filled with Ancient relics, murals, and a secret area with a nice pool of lava for skykids to relax in (saw a post a while ago about people wanting to have their skykids use lava like a hot tub)

there’s several levels of the temple, and at the lowest you can exit to a volcanic beach with little tide pools and places to swim underwater. There would also be geysers and an underwater cave with winged light hidden inside.

now the spirits! Click images for better quality and ignore the little doodles in the corners

the Myth Guide’s ultimate gifts are a head covering, mask with eye symbol, and outfit. For doing the quests (there will be five) you can also unlock two additional masks and an incense burner, available for candles/hearts

They’ve been in the temple for forever and everyone is afraid to ask how old they are

rarely speaks, is always watching

will stand over you ominously until you finish all the food on your plate

this is how they tell you they care about you

next is the Flame Whisperer. They offer a call, hairstyle (paid), cape (free), double flute (paid) and crown accessory (free)

Starts each day by singing

actually has a really good singing voice

nobody has figured out what the lyrics are

knows when you’re upset and how to make you feel better

then there’s the Healer (beyond this idk what the emotes/stances are going to be), offering a necklace (paid), hair (free), outfit (free) and mask (paid)

Likes to cook in free time and experiment with recipes

A bit of a daredevil, once climbed up the side of the temple

is really good at spotting herbs

is the friend who will tell you not to do a stupid thing then do it themselves

Now for the scribe! Offering a mask (free), hair (paid), music sheet (free) and cape (paid)

Is somehow involved with the Vault of Knowledge

knows when you’re lying

taught themselves to weave

in charge of painting the murals

lastly there’s the wandering artisan! They offer a music sheet (paid), outfit (free), drum (free), and mask (paid)

Made the group’s masks

travels around a lot, has seen each realm but feels most at home in the temple

as an apprentice to the previous mask-maker broke an artifact

that was many years ago but they still get nervous around the more fragile items

[coffeecat1983]

“All He Deserves” pt 2 Mario bros AU.

(keep in mind I wrote this like, 11 years ago, so waaaay before the movie. Also I’ve always held the headcanon that Luigi is gay, so don’t like it, don’t read it. Pretty simple. CW language, implied sexual content, smoking etc. If you want to know what Trace’s voice is like, look up Double Trouble from She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

    "Trace? I'm home!" Luigi called out as he closed the door, making sure to lock it.     "Hey sugar, in the kitchen!" Trace's smoky voice came from beyond the alcove. After hanging up his coat and slipping off his boots, Luigi followed the smell of Trace's cooking.   The Hammer Bro, or Hammer Sis, as he preferred to be called, was frying up something in a skillet as a pot of lemon sauce bubbled on the back burner. Trace was about 42 years old and dressed in female clothing when out of his shell, which was often when around home. Today he had on a hot pink silk tank top and white shorts with silver glitter around the waist and hems. Oversized pearl earrings that were yellowed with age peered out from the dark brown locks that hung down to his shoulders. One of many wigs he owned. Pink fuzzy slippers covered his feet. He swayed and hummed to the tune that crackled over the cheap radio. Luigi grabbed a can of pop from the fridge and popping it open, chugged it down.     "Were you safe?" When Trace asked were you safe, Luigi had long ago learned he meant three things. 'Did they hurt you?', 'Did they follow the contract' and most importantly, 'Do I need to kill anyone?'     "I was safe." he replied, coming over. Trace kissed his cheek, leaving a red smear of lipstick.     "That's my sugar. Now, grab some plates, this is almost ready." Luigi's thoughts began drifting as he set the table...   It was raining and near freezing. Luigi, desperate for food and sick with fever, was searching through a dumpster behind a little diner. He had had a little luck here the previous night and found some scraps. Now it looked like he would go hungry tonight. He had searched for coins but most had been taken by Troopas when they built the new buildings. He had also tried Wario's castle, but it was a disaster site. The windows were smashed out, and no sign of his cousins or the treasure Wario had worked so hard to collect remained. He hoped to find something amongst the rubble to sell, but it had all been looted or destroyed. Now he was here, digging around as best he could in the dim orange light of the flickering streetlamp. His clothing was torn and stained with mud and dried blood, his hair was plastered down from the rain. His cap had been lost when he fled from the battle.   There was a cough and he jerked, falling to the ground.  A dark figure walked towards him as he shrank up against the dumpster, sniffling as he tried to hide in its shadow. There was the faint glow of a lit cigarette and it bobbed as the figure knelt next to him.     "Oh sugar, what happened to you? You look like death." The voice was kind. The first kind voice he had heard in a long time. He let out a soft sob. Trace slid off his coat and kneeling, wrapped it around Luigi's trembling body. "There now, you're gonna freeze out here. When's the last time you had a good meal?"     "D-Don't 'member." Luigi looked up at the Hammer Bro. He was wearing red lipstick, and a silver sequin dress with black heels. A black pixie cut wig with silver hairband covered his head. The Hammer Bro smiled at him. "Well c'mon then. Lets get you into some warm blankets and I'll fix you a hot meal."     "I-I c-can't pay you." Luigi mumbled tearfully as he helped him up. The Hammer Bro looked him up and down.     "Oh, I think you got a way to pay me, sugar, but we'll work that out later. By the way, my name's Trace."   The next thing he remembered was waking in a soft bed. His eyesight was blurred but he could make out he had been bathed and dressed in warm, clean nightclothes. Trying to sit up, Trace gently pushed him back down.     "Shhh, just rest, sugar. You've been through hell." Something cool met his lips and he drank the bittersweet liquid from the bottle. He recognized the taste of the mushroom potion, followed by a drink of cold water. He grew eager at the water and tried to gulp it down but Trace pulled it away.      "Ah, easy, don't want to get sick."

  After he had recovered, Trace had given him the upstairs of the old two-story house, which had been converted into an apartment of sorts. It was a roomy bedroom complete with bathroom and small kitchen, but Luigi often took meals downstairs with Trace. The Hammer Bro had nursed him back to health and offered him the chance to work as his only employee with Trace as his first client and his teacher. That first time, Luigi drew his legs up against his chest, his eyes wide when Trace suggested they practice.     "I-I've never... I mean I'm..." Trace stroked his cheek.     "It's okay, I've taught many a first timer."   Learning took a while. Trace was strict but gentle. "Don't cry in front of a client, save that for home. You can cry with me or on your own but never in front of a client. Drinking is fine, but not getting drunk. Always keep your head on enough to make sure you get paid. Don't count the payment in front of the client, if they insist you do, tell them to call me."   When Luigi asked, Trace claimed he had picked that name because there was only a 'trace' of what made him male left. Luigi would later tease him saying it was one big trace and that Trace's own clients were lucky. Trace would counter by kissing him and saying he preferred sharing that luck. The two fell into a comfortable relationship with each other. Both understood they had only one thing to offer clients, and when together in the bedroom it felt different than work. More peaceful and fulfilling.   When it came to work, Trace set up the clients, both did the work, and the pay was a decent split between them with a household fund set up for groceries and other items.    Admittedly it was hard at first. Many times, Luigi came home and had stayed in bed, refusing to come out and eat until Trace had made the threat of force feeding him. After a while the praise from clients came in. He was polite, kind, and easy to be with. This led to repeat clients. The pay was good, there was a contract in place, and woe to any clients who failed to follow the rules. Trace was not one to mess with and he had a reputation for enforcing the contract. One way of reinforcing was the large knife he kept on the table when interviewing new clients. There had been one time Luigi had come home with a black eye. After Trace calmed him down, he went out and Luigi found the large steak knife was gone from its usual spot on the kitchen wall. Trace came back around four that morning and Luigi never saw the client again.

    "Sugar?" Luigi blinked, coming out of his thoughts. "Huh?"     "I said 'time to eat'." Trace laughed. "You were in lala land for a minute there." Luigi blushed slightly. "Sorry, guess I'm pretty tired."     "You didn't sleep afterwards?"     "Nah, you know me. I don't want to scare away anyone with those nightmares I have."   Trace hummed and nodded. Luigi was prone to waking up crying or sometimes screaming from nightmares. He had taught himself not to go into a dreaming sleep when with clients. The only time he fell fully asleep was at home. Many times Trace had to wake him with soft words and a soothing touch.     "Well eat up and then how about you go crash for a while?"     "Sounds good." They ate in silence for a while until Luigi spoke.     "So anyone call for a job?"     "Two, but they're on hold." Trace's eyes sparkled. "I'm giving you the week off, sugar." Luigi nearly choked. "W-What?"     "I think you've earned it." Trace said. "You've been working that cute ass off and I'm tired too, so I figure we can take a break." He paused as he took a bite. "Besides, now you can give me a chance at your sweet behind." Luigi burst out laughing and Trace joined in.   After eating and clearing away the dishes, Luigi looked out the kitchen window. "Ugh, still raining." He pulled a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. "Mind if I...?" he motioned towards the back door and Trace nodded. One rule was neither smoked in the house. Luigi could in his room as long as the window was open. Luigi cracked the screen door and lit up, blowing the menthol smoke out into the rain. "I hate this weather." he said softly.     "Bad memories?" Trace said gently.     "Yeah." Luigi grew quiet as he stared out at the grey sky. Trace came over and kissed his cheek again. "You don't let those old thoughts get to you, okay sugar?"     "I won't." Luigi agreed. "Guess I do need a break. Seems like they come up when I'm tired." Trace paused, thinking. "Sugar, I have something for you. Put out that cancer stick and sit down for a minute." Luigi chuckled as he crushed the cigarette and tossed the butt in the garbage. He sat at the table and Trace vanished into the other room. There was a rustling sound and he came back holding a thin, square package wrapped in leftover Christmas paper. He handed it to Luigi, saying "wait a minute, okay?" Luigi felt a little puzzled as Trace pulled the other chair close to him and sat down.     "It took me a while to find this, but I understand if you don't want to keep it." He motioned towards the package with a soft 'go ahead.' Luigi pulled the paper off and gasped softly. A whimper escaped him. Framed in an old wooden frame was a newspaper clipping, a photo of Mario with his arm around Luigi's shoulders. His brother's smiling face was full of joy. Luigi held the frame close to his chest as he began to cry. He had lost all photos of his brother and finding any hint of him after Bowser took over felt impossible.     "H-How?" he whispered.     "I found it in the attic," Trace said. "I was looking through old papers and there it was." Luigi let out a shuddering sob. "Th-Thank you." He murmured something in Italian, holding the picture out to look at it again. Setting it gently on the table, he buried his face in his hands and broke down. Trace put his arm around Luigi before looking at the photo again. "You share his eyes. That's the first thing I noticed about you in that alley, those stunning eyes." Luigi wiped at his tears. "Same as Papa." he sniffled. He turned and hugged Trace tightly. "Thank you so much for this."   Trace pulled back slightly and kissed him. Luigi closed his eyes and returned the kiss as Trace's hands wandered down his back to grope at him. Finally pulling away, Trace took his hands.     "C'mon sugar, you can get some sleep later." Luigi laughed as they went hand in hand to Trace's room.

Life was rough at times, and the past hurt, but sometimes Luigi had to admit it wasn't all bad. Maybe he deserved a little more than he thought.

By “CC”

[motherofdragonflies]

A Very Prompty Christmas Day 26: Leftovers

“Jesus Christ,” Dean stared in horror at the mass of Tupperware containers and plastic-wrapped bowls stacked in the fridge, unable to comprehend the mass of food before him.

“How are there so many leftovers?” he asked aloud.

Christmas lunch had been, for want of a better word, epic. The sturdy library tables—pushed end to end and lined with bedsheets from the Bunker’s linen closet—had looked close to collapsing under the sheer weight of food that a fiercely determined group of hunters had managed to coax out of the Bunker’s kitchen. Several hams, a large turkey and a mouthwatering prime rib, four different types of potato, two green bean casseroles, a platter of roasted vegetables, bread rolls, gravy, and cranberry sauce: Dean had never seen so much food in one place, and a part of him wished that he could bundle some of it up and send it back in time to the young boy who had handed over the last of everything—the last bowl of cereal, the last can of soup—to his little brother, even when his stomach was threatening to swallow itself from hunger.

Dean had loaded up his plate with a little bit of everything and made sure that Cas—sitting next to him—tried at least a mouthful of each dish, laughing at the delighted look on Cas’ face when he discovered sweet potato casserole and the way he screwed up his face at one of the green bean casseroles (the first one; the second one had bacon in it, and had changed Dean’s opinion of green bean casserole forever). At the end of the meal Dean had had to surreptitiously pop the top button of his jeans, his stomach too full of food to be comfortably contained within the denim, and judging by the looks of satisfaction and slight regret and the way everyone was lounging back in their chairs, Dean wasn’t the only one.

Somehow, despite everyone eating their body weight in food, the fridge was still full of leftovers.

With a sigh, Dean rummaged through the containers (and who knew that the Men of Letters even had Tupperware) and found one filled with slices of ham. He’d been looking for eggs, but even Dean knew that when it came to leftovers, it was important to try and eat them as quickly as possible. A bit more digging and he found a tub of leftover bechamel sauce, a block of cheese and a jar of mustard his decision was made: not eggs, but Croque monsieurs.

He was just lowering the sandwiches into a hot pan with melted butter when Cas entered the kitchen and came to stand behind Dean, leaning against the counter.

“Claire and Kaia get off okay?” Dean asked over his shoulder, and the screwed up his face at his phrasing. Thankfully Cas either didn’t understand the double entendre or chose to ignore it, and nodded.

“I wish they had waited until the weather cleared,” he said. “But Claire promised to drive safely and text when they reached Jody’s.” Dean turned his head to look and, sure enough, the burner phone that Dean had given to Cas was in his hand, and Cas was staring at it intently.

“Hey,” Dean chided. “Stop that. They’re not even out of Kansas yet.” He held out his hand. “Pass me the cheese, wouldja?”

He didn’t look to see if Cas was going to comply, just wanted, hand outstretched, and sure enough he felt the cool weight of a block of cheese being placed in his palm.

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing the grater and adding cheese to the top of the sandwiches before grabbing the pan and sliding them into the oven. He quickly cleaned the station, moving around the unmoving Cas, grinning when he brushed his body teasingly against Cas’ while reaching around him to wipe down the counter, dancing out of reach when Cas reached for him.

The sandwiches ready, Dean nudged Cas in the direction of the coffee machine while he plated the sandwiches and carried them over to the table. Cas joined him with two mugs of sweet, creamy coffee, and for a few minutes they ate in companionable silence.

Cas put down his coffee and turned his head to the side. “You put the calendar away?” he asked, and Dean looked to see that the advent calendar was missing from its spot at the end of the table.

“Huh. No,” Dean answered. “Musta been Sam. Wonder where he put it.”

Cas nodded, accepting that answer, and held up his sandwich. “This is very good,” he remarked. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean nodded, pleased. “You’re welcome,” he said, hooking a foot around Cas’ ankle and rubbing his heel along Cas’ calf, watching as Cas’ eyes lost focus for a moment and a pink flush spread across his cheeks.

The clatter of feet in the hall had him yanking his foot back and studying his sandwich intently, nodding in greeting at the hunters who entered the kitchen and made a beeline for the fridge. He looked up at caught Cas’ eye, making an apologetic face and internally breathing a sigh of relief when Cas nodded in acceptance of his silent apology. Dean wasn’t hiding him and Cas, wasn’t ashamed of it, but it was so damn new and old habits died hard. As the hunters—Dean thought it was Victoria and…Brad, maybe?— chattered behind them, Dean reached his foot back out, tangling his ankle with Cas’ and returning Cas’ pleased smile.

---------------------------------------

“Hey, Dean, where’d you put the calendar?”

Dean looked up from his plate—turkey sandwiches, this time, slathered with cranberry sauce and slices of brie that someone had tried to hide in the side of the fridge, but Dean had found them, and finders eaters—to see Sam fall into one of the wooden chairs next to him in the library.

“Me? I didn’t touch it, I thought you took it?”

Sam shook his head slowly. “Not me.”

Dean frowned. “Did Jack?”

Sam shook his head again. “I asked him, and he said the last time he’d seen it was Christmas Eve.”

Dean thought back. He hadn’t spent a lot of time in the kitchen yesterday—far too much going on—but he couldn’t remember if the calendar had still been on the table or not. It only had twenty-four doors, so there was nothing to open yesterday, which was why Dean hadn’t paid it any attention, but still.

“Calendars don’t just get up and walk away,” Dean said. “Somebody must’ve moved it during the prep for  Christmas lunch. It’ll turn up.”

But, despite asking everyone, and even sending Claire a text asking if she or Kaia had seen it (and squinting in confusion at the mass of emojis that filled his screen in response), the calendar didn’t turn up.

It was as if it had just disappeared.

Like magic.

Later that night, as Dean absently spooned the last piece of pecan pie into his mouth (and vowed to work out who had made the pie and marry them, Cas would understand) he stared at the empty spot where the calendar had sat, and wondered.

Was it so difficult to accept that a calendar that had come from a mysterious antique store that, as far as Dean had been able to find, didn’t exist, that had doors that opened all by themselves, and that seemed to predict (or direct) Dean’s life for the past three weeks would disappear from Dean’s life as magically as it had arrived? Considering everything that Dean had seen throughout his hunting career, was it so hard to believe that someone had wanted to help Dean and had used the calendar to slowly guide him in the right direction, one day at a time?

And what was the right direction? Was it just a coincidence that the calendar had disappeared the day after Dean had finally found his courage and used his words and told Cas how he felt? Was it just by chance that Dean had told Cas that he loved him on Christmas Day? Or was it fate, the outcome predetermined by a magical wooden box?

A part of Dean should have been outraged that, once again, some higher power had been writing his story for him, that despite defeating Chuck Dean’s life was not his own. But maybe because, for once, he’d been handed a ‘and they all lived happily ever after’ ending, or at the very least, the potential for happily ever after, assuming Dean didn’t fuck it up, Dean couldn’t bring himself to be mad. For once, the universe had done something nice for Dean, and Dean was not prepared to look a gift horse—calendar—in the mouth.

So, yes, Dean decided, chasing the last of the caramel from the plate. He was willing to accept that the calendar was magic and that, its job done, it has disappeared into thin air, going back to wherever magical advent calendars went when it wasn’t Christmas, preparing to appear again next year to whichever poor schmuck needed its help.

Dean got up and rinsed his plate and fork, leaving them in the drying rack for the morning, and headed for the door. Before he turned off the lights, Dean turned and looked at the spot that the calendar had occupied for the past twenty-four days and then looked up, his eyes searching the ceiling, the sky, the universe beyond.

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” he said, feeling as stupid as he did when he prayed, but at least when he prayed he knew that there was someone—Cas, Chuck, the angelic Host—who could hear him. This time, Dean had no idea who was out there, or if anyone was listening. “I appreciate it. Really.”

Dean waited, wondering if the universe would send a sign that it had heard him, that it accepted Dean’s thanks, but when the kitchen remained still and silent, Dean flipped the light switch, plunging the kitchen into darkness, and headed down the hall to his room, where Cas was waiting for him. ~

The story continues! Come back tomorrow for Day 27: Candles!I

Day One: Advent Calendar

Day Two: Tinsel

Day Three: Ribbon

Day Four: Shopping

Day Five: Ugly Sweater

Day Six: Candy Canes

Day Seven: Christmas Spirit

Day Eight: Mistletoe

Day Nine: Gingerbread

Day Ten: Eggnog

Day Eleven: Naughty or Nice

Day Twelve: Snow

Day Thirteen: Sleigh Ride

Day Fourteen: Tree Farm

Day Fifteen: Decorations

Day Sixteen: Angels

Day Seventeen: Lights

Day Eighteen: Christmas Miracle

Day Nineteen: Kris Kringle (Part One)

Day Nineteen: Kris Kringle (Part Two)

Day Twenty: Party

Day Twenty-One: Baking

Day Twenty-Two: Carols

Day Twenty-Three: Santa Claus

Day Twenty-Four: Christmas Eve

Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Morning (Part One)

Day Twenty-Five: Christmas Morning (Part Two)

[mahhalcom]

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[kmgquote]

VBGK Double Induction Cooktop, 24 inch 4000W Induction stove top with hot plate,Electric cooktop with LCD Touch Screen 9 Levels Settings with Child Safety Lock & Timer 110V Induction cooktop 2 burner

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[americankitchen]

Techwood ES-3203 Hot Plate Review | Portable Electric Double Burner for ...

[dnstore]

ননস্টিক কুকওয়্যার সেট ও ইলেকট্রিক চুলা কিনুন কমদামে | Gazi Electric Cooker- Nonstick Set Price In BD.

Best electric cooker and nonstick cookware set price in Bangladesh. Buy the best brand induction cooker pan at the Best Price in Bangladesh from the dn store. Cookware Sets In Bangladesh At Best Price Online.

নোট: পণ্যের দাম ওঠানামা করে, সেক্ষেত্রে সঠিক দাম জানতে এখানে দেওয়া নম্বরে যোগাযোগ করুন।

Shop Name: " DN STORE "

Address:

Shop: 1-2, And 21-22-23, (Ground Floor), Biswas Builders, New Market City Complex, New Market, Dhaka-1205

Offline Call:

Mobile:

01719-439533

01681-440688

01851-083947

HotLine: 0255161638

#cookwareset #cookware #nonstickcookware #marblecookware #electriccooker #gazielectriccooker #dnstore #dnstorebd

Looks like you are interested in information about electric cookers and non-stick cookware sets. I can provide some general information about both:

1. Electric Cooker:

An electric cooker is a kitchen appliance that uses electricity to generate heat for cooking. There are different types of electric cookers:

Electric range: This is an all-in-one appliance that combines an electric stove and oven into a single unit. It is a common choice in many kitchens.

Induction Cooktop: This type of cooker uses electromagnetic fields to directly heat the cookware. It is known for its efficiency and precise temperature control.

Electric Hot Plates: These are portable, single, or double burners that can be used for cooking when you don't have a full-size stove available.

Electric Pressure Cooker: A multi-functional appliance that can be used for pressure cooking, slow cooking, steaming, and more.

2. Non-Stick Cookware Set:

Non-stick cookware is made with a special coating that prevents food from sticking to the surface. This coating is usually made of polytetrafluoroethylene (PTFE), also known as Teflon. Here are some key points about non-stick cookware:

Features:

Easy to clean: Food residue is less likely to stick, making cleaning a breeze.

Less oil or fat required: You can use less oil or butter while cooking, which can be healthier.

Even cooking: Non-stick surfaces distribute heat evenly across the pan.

Consideration:

AVOID HIGH HEAT: Excessive heat can damage the non-stick coating, so it's best to cook on medium or low heat.

Avoid metal utensils: Using metal utensils may scratch or damage the non-stick coating. It is better to use a wooden or silicone container.

Replace if damaged: If the coating starts to chip or peel, it's time to replace the cookware.

Type:

Non-stick cookware comes in many forms including frying pans, saucepans, griddles, and more. They can be part of a set or purchased individually.

Maintenance:

To prolong the life of non-stick cookware, avoid using abrasive scouring pads and harsh detergents.

When using non-stick cookware with an electric cooker, it is important to follow the manufacturer's instructions for both the cookware and the cooker to ensure safe and effective cooking. Remember, never use non-stick cookware on high heat settings, as this can damage the coating.

If you are considering purchasing an electric cooker and non-stick cookware set, be sure to do some research on reputable brands and read reviews to find products that meet your specific needs and preferences.

[dxsturbia]

I got a double burner hot plate because I move my computer into my bedroom I wanna see if I can’t make like small skillet meals give myself a little bit more control over my food get involved

[minkate93]

Nunix stand alone 3+1 cooker *Electric oven Available @25500/= Nunix stand alone cooker *Full gas *Gas oven Available @20500/= *13KG TABLE TOP COMPLETE COOKING SET.* 1. Nunix Glass top 2 bunner. 2. 13Kg Full Gas Cylinder. 3. 1.5M Gas pipe. 5. 13Kg Gas regulator. *Ksh11,500!!* Restocked 🥳 🥳 🥳 Mali safi 🔥🔥🔥 Exellent outstanding quality 4 gas table top gass cooker Auto ignition Price @6000/= Nunix 3 burner with 1 hot 🔥 plate @5500/= Nunix 4 burner Available @5000 Two burner cooker now selling😍😍@2800 Auto Ignition Durable Saves Energy Easy to use. Nunix double burner with glass top available @3600 Single coil available @1450 Portable double hot plate, Powerful for faster heating, Spiral burner spreads heat, Adjustable temperature *...@2850* DELIVERY DONE COUNTRYWIDE AT HAPPY SHOPPING 🛒 https://www.instagram.com/p/Co8FmdbMMDa/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[whereamericashops]

Hot Plates SUNAVO Hot Plates for Cooking Electric Double Burner 1800W Portable Burner Electric

[vancouverkitchenrenovation]

French Country Kitchens

If you are planning to decorate your kitchen in the French country style, you should keep in mind that all white is not necessarily French country. You can use mustard yellow cabinets or even blue and white dishes. You should also try black hardware, which is more French country. In addition, you can replace white subway tiles with blue and white toile backsplash tiles. Labeled containers and display pieces are also a great way to incorporate the French country style into your home. You can also reuse old cookware or display pieces with a little elbow grease.

Simple whites

The use of simple whites is the most common color scheme for French country kitchens. It is a classic and traditional look that works well in many styles of homes. It can also be a great way to show off your cookware, including copper pots and pans. It is also a great way to incorporate more natural light into the kitchen. The open design of a French country kitchen allows for a lot of natural light, which makes the space feel more cozy and welcoming.

Muted pastels

Colors in French country decor are based on warm, muted tones. These colors have an aged appearance and are often paired with neutrals. Colors that work well in a French country kitchen include peaches, tans, and duck egg blues. Pale pinks and lavender are also appropriate. These colors are very timeless and are often associated with nature. Muted pastels, soft yellows, and light greys are good choices for these rooms. Adding hints of gold is also appropriate if the French are attempting to make the space seem more contemporary.

Wood

The classic look of a French country kitchen is created with wood cabinets. The look is characterized by wood and exposed beams. The cabinets are often made from wood and should feature a farmhouse sink. If space is a concern, you can replace the kitchen island with a dining table or a stand-alone island for more functional space. When planning a French country kitchen, it’s important to keep in mind the proportions of the room.

Stone

When creating a kitchen that looks like it is derived from southern France, you need to choose bright and bold colors. The French country design palette consists of warm colors such as yellows and greens that reflect the countryside. They evoke the vibrant poppies against the blue sky, and are perfect for creating a comfortable and cozy atmosphere. The walls should be soft and butter-colored, creating a perfect canvas for the colors and textures you choose.

Aga stoves

An AGA stove is a large, enameled cast iron cooking appliance with top hot plates and a double oven. The top two ovens are covered with hinged covers that lift to reveal the raw iron burners. These ovens are suitable for boiling, baking, roasting and simmering. These stoves have a distinct design that includes a coiled metal handle. They can be placed anywhere in the kitchen or dining room, and are an ideal addition to a french country kitchen.

Open shelves

If you want to create a kitchen that feels authentically French, you should try to keep open shelves in mind. Open shelving allows you to easily access your cookware and other essentials without crowding the counter space. You can go for floating shelves or wooden shelves. They are a practical choice for small country kitchens. You can mix and match different elements in your kitchen to create a look that is unique and uniquely yours.

Copper cookware

The beauty of copper cookware is undeniable, so you might consider hanging a rack for them, or you can place them permanently on your cooktop. While you’re storing them, be sure to put them on a pot and pan protector to avoid scratching them. After using them, be sure to clean and dry them thoroughly before storing them. Copper cookware is extremely heavy, so be sure to follow manufacturer’s instructions to ensure that you don’t damage them.

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The kitchen is often the heart of the home and plays a significant role in determining its overall appeal. If yours feels outdated or dated, you may feel less motivated to spend time cooking and eating in it. That’s why Vancouver kitchen Renovation is proud to bring you a Kitchen Design and Renovation package that will transform your space into something truly timeless and functional. Our Kitchen Design and Renovation packages will create a space that reflects your lifestyle and personality and gives you everything you need to cook delicious meals and entertain guests.

We understand that to be successful is to stay ahead of the curve. That means staying current with the latest technology and design trends. We always want to improve our products or services without breaking the bank. That’s why we stay connected to the latest technologies of NKBA, National Kitchen and Bath Association. In addition, at Vancouver Kitchen renovation, our primary focus is providing sustainable kitchen design and renovation packages, and we believe in sustainable living. Sustainable living is a way of life in harmony with nature. It is a lifestyle which focuses on the preservation of our environment. Sustainable living is a philosophy emphasizing respect for the environment and concern for its well-being. This means we should take care of the planet and treat it as if it were our home. We should try to preserve what we have and protect it from destruction. If we do this, we will enjoy the benefits of the earth’s resources for many generations. Whether you’re planning a major remodel or adding finishing touches to your current kitchen, we’d love to discuss your project. Book your showroom consultation online.

Main Areas of Service in British Columbia:

Vancouver

North Vancouver

West Vancouver

Burnaby

Coquitlam

Squamish

Whistler

Frequently Asked Questions

How long should a kitchen remodeling project take?

After the cabinets are built, the work should take no more than three weeks. The design and/or manufacturing of custom cabinets can take several months. This means that the whole process from start-to-finish can take several weeks.

Is it possible to DIY a Kitchen Renovation yourself?

It’s possible that you could do the kitchen renovation yourself if you aren’t too experienced. The answer is yes, but there are some things to remember.

A kitchen renovation is a large project. Make sure you have enough time and energy to complete it. It’s also essential to have some basic carpentry and plumbing skills before starting. It’s also necessary to decide which aspects you want to change in your kitchen, such a storage area, replacement of old appliances or improved lighting.

After you have planned your kitchen remodel, it is time to shop for materials. Decide on countertops, flooring, cabinets, and appliances.

Thinking about your kitchen layout before you start shopping is also a good idea. This will help determine how much space and what layout is best for your kitchen.

There are many choices when it comes to cabinets. There are two options when it comes to cabinets: ready-to-assemble cabinets (RTA) or custom cabinets. RTA cabinets are available in a variety of styles and colours, and they tend to be less expensive than custom cabinets.

It is essential that you ensure safety and security during large-scale renovations. For renovations, it might be a good idea to check the local building codes.

While you may be tempted to tackle a large-scale renovation on your own, it is recommended to seek help from professionals. Hiring a contractor who is qualified will save you both time and money. Additionally, working with a professional will ensure that the project runs smoothly.

Are Kitchen Remodeling Costs Worth it?

Remodeling your own kitchen can transform the feel and look of your home. But it can also cost you a lot. The cost of remodeling your kitchen might seem prohibitive.

There are several factors to consider when determining whether or not remodelling your kitchen is a good investment. The first is your home’s market value. If you are planning to sell your home in the near future, it is important that you ensure that the remodel cost has been recouped in the final sale price.

The cost of the remodel is another factor to consider. It’s not uncommon for high-end kitchen remodeling to cost more than $50,000. Make sure that you have the money to cover these costs. The cost of remodeling your kitchen may not be a major concern if you don’t plan to sell your house.

Consider how much you will be using your new kitchen. It is important to consider how often you will be using your kitchen, especially if you are a frequent host or cook large meals. If you don’t plan on using your kitchen much, you might be able to get by with a more minor, less expensive remodel.

These are some helpful tips to get you started if your not sure where to begin.

Consider whether you would like to replace or make new cabinets. The cost of a kitchen remodel can increase significantly if new cabinets are added. And, if you choose to replace all the cabinets, you’ll need to remove them before installing new ones.

You should choose your colours carefully. The overall look of your kitchen can be affected by the choice of colours. So choose carefully.

Decide if the flooring needs to be updated. The flooring may not be needed if you plan on selling your house within the next few months. A freshly painted concrete slab may give off a fresh, modern feel.

Consider adding additional storage space. Add cabinets, drawers, shelves or other storage options to your kitchen.

Lighting is important. You can brighten the dark corners of your kitchen by installing recessed lights above the sink, stove, or refrigerator.

Add Appliances. Replacing your old fridge with a newer model can reduce energy consumption. This can increase the resale price of your house.

You should ensure that you have enough outlets. Most kitchens only come equipped with one or two outlets. This means that you won’t have the ability to plug in your blender, microwave, or other appliances.

Don’t forget about the water lines. Water pipes are hidden behind walls and floors. Before you begin any work, check for leaks.

Eliminate clutter. You may already have a cluttered kitchen, so try to organize. You don’t need to keep it cluttered.

Get estimates from several contractors. Comparing prices is a good way to get multiple quotes.

Look into financing options. Many people finance their kitchen renovations. You don’t have to pay interest while you make the payments.

It is important to know how long you plan on staying in your house. You should spend more on your kitchen the longer you plan to stay there.

Keep track. Use a notebook to jot down everything you learn during the process — including measurements, materials used, and construction techniques.

Plan ahead. You should take time to visualize what you want in your kitchen. This will make it easier to visualize the whole thing.

Should I install a countertop or backsplash first?

Before installing countertops or backsplashes, it is important to install the countertop. This will allow you to correctly measure and cut the backsplash to fit perfectly against the countertop. The countertop is an essential component of proper backsplash installation. However, it must be installed before any appliances.

Statistics

Keep 10 to 25 percent of List 2, depending on the budget. (familyhandyman.com)

Followed by cabinet cost, labour, and appliance costs consume 20 percent each of your budget. (hgtv.com)

Experts also recommend setting aside 20 percent of your budget for surprises, including unpleasant demolition discoveries. One is water damage, the electricity that is not up to code, or other budget-spiking gotchas. (hgtv.com)

In large firms, the commission charged by the GC ranges from 15 to 25 percent of the total job cost. (thespruce.com)

“We decided to strip and refinish our kitchen cabinets during a heat wave with 90-plus-degree temperatures and 90 percent humidity in a house with no air conditioning. (familyhandyman.com)

External Links

remodeling.hw.net

Cost vs. Value 2021

Cost vs. Value Project: Minor Kitchen Remodel

forbes.com

Amazing Kitchen Remodel Ideas To Refresh Your Home

homeguide.com

2022 Kitchen Remodel Cost Estimator

2022 Addition Costs

homeadvisor.com

Learn how much it takes to remodel a Kitchen. Compose, SEO.

How much does a kitchen remodeling project increase the home’s market value? – HomeAdvisor

How To

Ten small kitchen remodels you can make yourself.

Small kitchen renovation ideas that you can do yourself.

It’s not always an option to do a small kitchen remodel. But if you want to make your home feel like a new one, then this is what you should consider doing. There are many ways to make your kitchen more beautiful without spending a lot of money. So here are some small kitchen renovation ideas that you can do yourself.

Add a backsplash – If you don’t have any tiles around your sink and countertop, then adding a backsplash is probably the best thing you can do. A backsplash can add colour and style to your kitchen, while also making it look larger and more spacious.

Replace old cabinets – Cabinets add a lot of value to your kitchen. They can protect your walls against spills and splashes. And they give your kitchen a classy look. You should replace your cabinet doors if they look tired.

Paint your kitchen. Not only will it improve the look of your kitchen, but you’ll also save money. Painting your kitchen gives it a new life and makes it look more modern. Plus, it’ll be easier to clean as well.

Update your appliances. It’s a great idea to update your appliances. Not only will it increase their lifespan, but it will also make them look more modern. If you know precisely which appliance you need to update, go ahead and get it done. Otherwise, you can ask someone who knows how to install these appliances.

Add a bar – Adding a bar area in your kitchen is another good idea. You can entertain your guests by adding a bar to your kitchen.

Create a breakfast nook – You don’t have to break the bank to create a breakfast nook. A small table and a few chairs are all you need. To make it more comfortable, you could add cushions.

A pantry is an essential part of any kitchen. It’s a wonderful place to store food and dishes.

Install an island – An island is an excellent addition to your kitchen. This gives your kitchen an open feel and allows you to work from a large area. Plus, it looks very attractive when combined with wood flooring.

You can add a wine rack to your home. Wine racks are often found in wine bars and restaurants. You can use them in the comfort of your own home. They come with a range of sizes and designs. You can choose which one best suits you kitchen.

The post French Country Kitchens first appeared on Vancouver Kitchen Renovation.

source https://vancouverkitchenrenovation.com/kitchens/french-country-kitchens/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=french-country-kitchens

[toomanybandstocare]

{Cover Me, Bruce Springsteen}

Program: The diner rush is never fun, but it brings in good money. It seems as if everyone is in a dark mood from the roaring storm this evening, and two patrons can't seem to keep it to themselves. Even though you desperately try to ignore the insults and harsh words, Billy isn't letting it fly. Tonight or any other night. So, the two of you create a little countertop ritual to bare with the shitty coffee.

Pairing: Demo Derby Driver! Billy Hargrove x Server, GN! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Couple of swears, Verbal insult (Reader is called a bitch by two upset douches), Kind of a fight? (Billy defends reader when he hears the insult), Petnames (Cutie and Sweetheart), Reader is referred to as "curious little thing" but not in regardless to stature, Smoking

Tom's Diner (P.1) | Camp Upside Down Masterlist

“Another coffee when you have a second”.

“I asked for hash browns not home fries”.

“Could I get some hot sauce, over here”.

“How long does it take to get seated here? This is ridiculous”.

“Can you read? Sign says seat yourselves, and if you can’t tell, we’re a bit busy today,” you bite back. 

Plates of piping hot food burn your arms as you unceremoniously drop them in front of grumbling patrons. Your feet fly across the linoleum floors before the cook can even ring the window bell. One arm reaches up to grab the sizzling dish while your other grabs a pot of coffee from the countertop burner, and you’re already whirling on your heel. Not paying any mind to the seething pair of men at the entrance, you move past them to do a round of coffee top offs at the booths before you can breathe a little on counter duty.

The entrance chime drolls mutely against the raging storm spitting down on the trolley car diner this late in the evening. You pant lightly from the constant movement and overwhelming feeling of pressure bubbling against your skull.

“I wouldn’t bother with this dump or bitch. No respect for the customer and can’t even provide decent service,” a raspy voice from the entryway silences the diner.

All eyes seem to move in unison and lock onto the asshole who dares try to discredit everyone’s favorite server. Some of the patrons at the front end of the countertop swivel their bodies, ready to pounce when given the word. Everything freezes, and you feel your lungs harden. Embarrassment stings your cheeks as you clutch the coffee pot tighter. As much as you want to look over, you can’t bring yourself to move your watery gaze from your shoes.

“What’d you say,” a familiar voice sends shivers down your spine. Billy’s tone dead serious.

There’s a heavy pause that hangs in the air, before a different voice stammers out: “Didn't even tell us to seat ourselves when we got here. Then proceeded to insult us. Hardly a place that cares about the customer’s needs”.

You pull your head up to look over at the scene. Billy’s hard face glowers down at the two men as he slowly shakes his head in thought. A pang hits your heart that Billy may actually agree with them. Sure, the witty comeback wouldn’t have been an issue with a regular. A quick glance to double check who was on the receiving end would have saved you from this turmoil.

When Billy takes a step into their personal space, you swallow the lump in your throat. In a flash, he grabs the men in each of his hands and raises them off the floor just so that their toes graze the tiles.

“Hey,” you call out, “That’s enough, alright”. You desperately try to get through to Billy as you force yourself over to the altercation.

“You see this server?” Billy lowly growls. The men in clutch at Billy’s white knuckle grip on their collars and nod. “The only server this shitty little diner has? Hauling ass to serve everyone crammed into trolley boothes and rubbing shoulders at the counter. Arms probably burnt trying to get hot plates out to patrons instead of letting them cool for a second to make it easier. You two aren’t even worth the dirt underneath the tattered sneakers sliding on spilt coffee just to do a round of refills. So how about I do us all a favor and show you two out,” Billy’s voice slowly grows in controlled ferocity. His muscles press against his rain splattered jacket as his arms start to slightly shake. Cold blue eyes look neon in the dark diner as he waits for a response.

As everyone in the diner seems to sit in silence on the edge of their seat, even the owner and cook stand behind the hostess station to watch, it dawns on you.

Billy’s waiting for your response.

Not the two paling men in his hold. Not the cook who looks ready to step in at any moment. Not the owner who cares more about money than fire code. The server who seems to always be flying across the trolley car with someone’s shitty food or cup of stale coffee in hand.

“Unfortunately, it seems like we don’t have any more seats available,” you try to level your uneasy voice.

Without missing a beat, Billy lowers the men and drags them over to the entrance door. Shoving the door open with his upper arm, he quite impressively throws the two out the diner with a wet slosh of landing. He adjusts his jacket while walking away and lightly pushes past you in the small walkway.

Rooted in place, you stand in the walkway with a wash of dizziness humming in your head. When the door swings closed the diner fills with muted chatter. The coffee pot in hand swirls as you move behind the counter and resume routine. Your arm sweeps in habit as you grab a mug while moving to stand in front of Billy’s seat. A ceramic shriek shrills in your ear and stings your forming headache.

“Made you speechless, cutie,” Billy coyly asks as he flicks his toothpick with his tongue. His eyes now glow with electric warmth.

“You didn’t have to do that. One of the guys would have handled it,” you reply, crossing your arms across your body.

Billy scoffs, “So, I should have let them escalate their harassment during the dinner rush? When you’re already so worked up from the lack of hands out front”.

Your tired gaze dips from his pointed look. Shifting your weight, you pour his cup of coffee without a word and turn back to the coffee burner. You grab another mug to pour another cup of coffee before settling the pot back into place. The cheap metal edge of the service counter digs into your lower back as you take a slow sip of hot coffee. A combination of the scorching drink stinging your tongue and Billy’s sharp look makes you wince.

“You’ve been coming here for a week now. Why would you care so much about how a couple of nobody assholes treat me,” you inquire over the rim of your mug.

“So, you would let them treat you like shit if no one stopped them,” Billy states while taking out his lighter and pack of cigs. You silently grab the ashtray from its new home on the serving counter and place it in front of him.

“Kind of comes with the territory of an all hours diner,” you bite back, “Again- why does it matter so much to you?” He doesn’t know me.

Billy takes a slow drag of his cigarette and lets the smoke trickle down his throat. The ashy warmth fills his lungs as he takes your tired form in. A twitch pulses underneath his right eye. Why would you let some dirty rags walk all over you?

“How often does that happen,” Billy asks with a sting in his chest. When your eyes can’t meet his own, anger burns his chilled skin. He bristles at the thought. How could you, the shitty diner server who pulls smiles at five in the goddamn morning, let yourself endure this? “Not happening again, you hear me,” Billy raises an eyebrow at you. His leg bounces underneath the countertop, desperately trying not to reach over and pull you closer, so he could make you look at him. Hold your jaw in his scarred and callous hands to draw your kind eyes to indulge his greedy gaze.

Your eyes flash up to meet Billy’s locked expression, which leaves no room to argue. “You can’t promise that,” you breathe out.

Billy grits his cigarette between his teeth in an annoyed snarl as he shoves his hand into his jacket pocket. Furiously rippinging open his wallet, Billy thumbs through his earnings from last night’s show and slams another twenty dollar bill on the table. “Start a fucking tab, then. I guess I just can’t get enough of shitty diner coffee and this countertop cutie,” Billy exasperatedly says.

You bite your lip to hide your growing smile as coffee mixes with butterflies in your stomach creating a warm glee. “One condition,” you murmur.

Billy leans back into his seat and forces his muscles to relax. “And, what would that be? I’m already offering my services to you, cutie,” Billy eyes you while letting a puff of smoke fall from his plush lips.

Wetting your bottom lip, you ignore the crooked smile slithering onto Billy’s face. “A game of questions. Each time you come in, including tonight’s visit, I get to ask you three questions,” you bargain.

“Well, aren’t you a curious little thing,” Billy darkly teases. An enduring pause sits in the air as Billy takes a sip of his coffee. “Deal, but,” he counters, “I get to ask three as well”.

“Deal,” you agree and take the step to stand in front of him. Only the vinyl and metal countertop separates the two of you. The diner bustle disappears as you direct your attention solely on Billy. Not even the broken radio static hums in the background. It’s only the two of you.

“What do you do? I can hardly imagine you sitting at home all day keeping to yourself,” you softly inquire. Your fingers push and pull with each other as you fiddle in anticipation.

“Glad to know you like to imagine me in your daydreams, sweetheart,” Billy grazes his tongue across the inside of his lip. “Demolition derby driver. I’m either out driving for practice, fixing up cars, or competing. Had a show last night,” he shares. His eyes dart at the movement of your hands and without hesitation, Billy loops on his own fingers into your hold. With a little squeeze of his finger, Billy looks up at you and his chest tightens at the blush across the planes of your face. “Do you have a lucky charm,” Billy hums.

You scrunch your face at the question and tilt your head. “A lucky charm? I’ll give you points for originality,” you laugh.

Billy’s low chuckle joins your laughter, “Glad to know I’m racking up points in your book, cutie. Indulge me”.

“I feel like I do that pretty regularly,” you say lightly and squeeze his finger. “I guess it’s this piece of sea glass,” you hum and pull a small chain from the inside of your shirt. A small piece of light blue sea glass sways as the chain dangles from your finger. “Got it my junior year of college, so I’d have a piece of my favorite place when I leave college for break”.

Billy’s other hand leaves the cup of coffee and reaches up to carefully take the chain from your grasp. Barely applying any pressure, he gently pulls it closer to him in contemplation. Your heart hammers as your hips press against the countertop. “S’ pretty,” Billy compliments while releasing your necklace.

You swallow hard to try to ground yourself. “Why did you go so far with those guys,” you continue.

Billy sags at the question and turns his head to watch the splatter of rain hit the windows at the end of the trolley car. “Good question. You get two answers,” his voice thick, “First, no one should feel entitled or comfortable enough to harass wait staff or any service industry person”. Billy grinds his jaw before going on, “Second, those were guys from the derby. Not my guys, but I know them from rosters and competitions. I know them enough to know that I would win without concern in a fight”. He squeezes your hands before meeting your concerned expression with a blank one across his features. “Favorite color,” the words tumble from his mouth with a boyish grin.

You snort at the question and let yourself ignore the tension, “Dark green. Of all the questions to ask, you went with the cliché. Favorite song?”

“Pour Some Sugar on Me- Def Leppard,” Billy shoots you a wink and asks, “Favorite drink?”

A laugh of disbelief bubbles inside you and escapes your surprised expression, “Billy Hargrove, I know I said points for originality, but the clichés are killing me”. When his expectant gaze doesn’t waver from your incredulous look, you throw your free hand up. “Fine, a chocolate milkshake. Always cheer me up without fail”.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Billy’s lips as he takes his final sip of coffee. Standing up, he squeezes your hands and slides the bill underneath your lingering fingers. “Noted. I’ll see you tomorrow, cutie. Gotta get back to the tracks to help lock up shop,” he reaffirms with a flick of his collar to draw more protection from the raging storm.

“Drive safe,” you call after him and hold the bill tightly in your hand. 

Waving his hand behind him, Billy steps out of the diner and into the harsh night. Your countertop crush leaves you yearning for more than the small touch that still tingles your fingertips.