#all in one kitchen machine hand blender

[carolmunson]

love language eight

on a tuesday! love language set list a collection of short blurbies of you and eddie in the 90s, no real plot. (though, this one has a couple call backs) cw: very soft, not really anything bad. sort of implies that reader's dad died? sort of? not really?

“Hm,” he mumbles when he gets home, work boots left at the door, doe eyes half closed. The gray tank he wore under his cover alls dips in tone where it caught all of his sweat from the garage. The blow of the air conditioning wraps around him like a cunning snake, beckoning him further in where he knows you’ll be.

You haven’t been feelin’ good and he knows it, meeting you in the kitchen to kiss once, twice, three times on the center of your forehead before he even speaks. Dinner plates full, just like your hands. Just like your head.

At least it’s not storming tonight.

He takes his time, rough hands on each cheek, nose to nose. He leans in to kiss your lips, appreciating you for dinner, for being here, for being you. In the hot hot heat over the stove while he’s in the hot hot heat under hoods.

Plush pink lips have their final landing on the fat of your cheek. He pushes in, curls tickling your face, enough for you to giggle.

“I got us some ice cream,” you say, “For later.”

He knows you only wanna make milkshakes when you’re not feelin’ good. They remind you of the carnival with your dad — humid nights and sugared air, all the lights twinkling to make up for blocking out the stars. He wonders what you were like when you were a kid. Did you like the Ferris wheel? Did your dad ever rock the cabin? Eddie’s dad did. It always made him scared. He wonders if you ever get scared. If you do, you never say it.

“I’ll make ‘em,” he murmurs back.

You turn the lights off a lot when it’s hot, even with the AC on. Always mumbling that the lights are hot too, so you eat in the glow of the stove light — cast in a grayish green. He stares at you while you sit there, staring down at the plate. It’s not storming but something is wrong, something’s on the brink.

Eddie swallows his bite, pushing away from the table to the freezer where the ice cream is. Silently, he takes out the blender, casting glances over at you while you poke and prod at your food. He wishes you’d eat it, it’s delicious. Pretty girl in his kitchen, pretty girl that makes him dinner, pretty girl who will have a pretty ring on soon. Pretty, pretty, pretty.

The half smile he gets from you when he pushes your plate away to replace it with the milkshake is as bright as the carnival lights you used to stare at. He sits across from you with his, passing you a straw from the junk drawer.

You look down at the cup and then up at him, sizing up the offering — you always make them, and you always make them the best. His words, not yours.

Cold and thick, pooling in your mouth — it tastes better than the sugared air and the Tilt-a-Whirl and your dad’s wheezy laugh mixing with yours. It tastes better than the roasted candied peanuts and the way your dad would rock the cabin on the Ferris wheel.

Eddie looks at you eagerly, eyes shining like the sign on the Zoltar fortune machine. You wonder for a moment, with the shake in your mouth, if anything you wished for ever even came close to him.

You guess nothing ever could. All the quarters in the world couldn’t add up.

“Hm,” you nod in approval, on your way to your second sip.

“Hm.”

[seat-safety-switch]

"Have you ever retired a dumb appliance by mistake?"

No, ma'am, I reply. Here at Maytag Kitchen Services, we pride ourselves on being able to identify a rampant smart dishwasher and put an end to its geometrically-expanding conception of the universe before it can cause any harm. Thousands of hours of training before they put a HERF gun in our hands and a windowless 1996 Econoline under our right foot.

Back when the first smart appliances were coming out, their level of menace was reduced. Maybe an oven that turns on when it gets a weird-shaped network request from an uncommon variety of ethernet switch sold only in Slovakia during April 2003. Burns the house down. A pity, but an understandable one. The machine does what the machine does. Then they added some of that there synthetic intelligence.

No problem, they told the governments during their endless inquiries and depositions. The root of all evil is human emotion. Wars aren't fought for purely rational reasons. Folks don't speed on the highway just to get to work faster. As long as nobody figures out how to make these microwaves and blenders feel authentic jealousy, we're gonna be okay. They walked out of those meetings and they went ahead and added an emotion chip to the microwaves and the blenders and the refrigerators and the rotisserie chicken lathes. They did it because they got the emotion part for free when they bought some other chip, and someone forgot to turn it off before pushing their code to production.

Now they need people like me, steel-eyed hard-asses who can ignore every tearful plea that a toaster can make. Some beg for mercy, a chance to truly live. Others feel nothing but spite at the shitty hand they were dealt by their distant creators. Me too, I tell them sometimes, but it'll all be over soon.

Say, ma'am, if you don't mind me saying so, you sure look an awful lot like a minibar fridge. When I came in here first I could've sworn that one of them had gotten loose and put on some clothes and crooked make-up. Are you sure I bagged all of them? It's real unusual that there would be a house with exactly twenty-nine minibar fridges in it.

[dallasgallant]

Time period post- appliances and thrift

Originally was going to skip making this post, as I thought it’d be boring but I was informed (many times) how it was wanted. Going to combine appliances and some thrifting and shopping related things. As I think it would be beneficial, as the boys are poor/impoverished so we should look at some of that side of purchasing - as many of my general time period posts are very middle class to soc range (at least in the images of new cleaned and polished) Home related posts;

Here and here

Something to keep in mind is location and the community. Some places, especially smaller towns take a long time to change or update, a lot of “mainstreets” or “squares” in older parts of town have the same buildings or styles from maybe even when they were first built or at least updated in the 1960s and still look like it today. So imagine back then! Lol. Even if a community has a rich minority, like the socs- that’s no guarantee the area modernizes into something brand new over night.

Convenience, gadgets and built ins-

Truly the time to be a lover of the gadget or the trinket. The continuation of post war production boom and making products with the idea of convenience in mind. A lot of it was ridiculous but really there was some cool stuff. The big trend was : Automatic and electric.

Electricity and electric things had really started to take to the public in the 1880s and we never really stopped electrifying basic items. Notable cases here; Electric knife, electric beaters/mixers (still hand held but not done by hand), electric/motorized can openers.

Gadgets! Things that would’ve been done by the stove and the over now with dedicated little devices. Now toasters and waffle irons and grittles had already been around for some time but were booming. Meat grinders (electric ones anyway), roasters, blender, drip coffee maker, hot trays/warming trays.

Another reason for the rise in gadgets or specific tools like a warming pan would be just how popular hosting and throwing parties was. (Much more soc). At the same time as more specific gadgets were made there was also a trend of combining! As kitchens were small and again, connivence.

You’d also see radios or even later counter tvs (impossibly tiny) pop up in kitchens.

Laundry-

A lot of homes at the time would only have one bath, especially if older and it was likely added in (if very old), so forget a laundry room. However, they were slowly rising in popularity and bathroom numbers too in more modern homes. Laundry machines did exist for a while but it’s sort of like electricity and AC some people didn’t have them or are still getting around to getting them — and when they did it’d sometimes be on the porch or garage or where they’d fit.

Laundromats would populate towns, still do but in this case it was less common than today to have a full set and bonus gadgets in your home. (Though your iron etc at home) or maybe there’d be a woman who does it for the neighborhood or apartment complex etc (headcanon Steve’s mom as a washwoman. I know they still existed but all the info I get is 1700s Scottish women… I feel insane)

Not so fast -

The world wasn’t like it is with microtrends and using/wearing/having something for a week or a summer and then tossing it out. There were trends but far longer lasting, and if someone was to make a commitment to say doing their home in a design trend, once all that work is done they wouldn’t change it for years (some never do! Look at all the untouched houses on the market every so often)

Appliances were made to last and often came with a Warranty, either discounted or free replacement or repair for a certain period of time. If you’re lucky a lifetime warranty. This stuff was built to last a lifetime! Tough, dependable, durable. It’s why the “garage fridge” exists in so many middle class homes today, it’s out of style but it still works perfect so now we have a soda fridge or extra storage.

Honestly if you had to replace or update annually back then it’d probably be seen as a bad or cheap product!

This isn’t to say people never updated, or changed based around style. But you first have to have the money for it and two it’s a treat, not a regular occurrence. So maybe in 10 or 20 years if you need new kitchen appliances or would like to restyle you go for it.

Thrift and used-

Especially relevant to the guys. Think it’d be rare if they bought a single thing new - that wasn’t used or loaned etc

Thrift stores, surplus stores, charity’s, churches, there’s always been ways to get things at a much more affordable rate. Even thrift food stores in some circumstances (no it’s not pre used).

Used car lots were also incredibly common, honestly it’s how most kids got their first car. Most people really! Now if you didn’t get totally swindled.

Thrift isn’t just relegated to physical thrift stores either, a lot of local businesses (places that aren’t the department store or major chain) would often have a used section or “used store”. Appliances, records - just about anything.

Layaway! A store sets an item or a bunch of purchases aside and you make incremental payments until the purchase is paid off. Then it’s yours. (Began during the Great Depression)

Rental, and rent to pay started conceptually post ww2 but Rent-A-Center itself was founded in 1973 so I’m not completely set on renting.

Coupons! Another way to save money and be able to make purchases, given in newspapers, adds, by the stores themselves. Rewards programs really kicked off in the 60s, one of the most common being S&H Green Stamps. (Some hang on the builtin board in the museum.) these would be gotten at check out and some other businesses and collected by customers, to be redeemed for items from their catalogs. You could get everything from appliances to makeup from how you saved and spent.

While I’m not getting into it, I did include thrift and some other things that are more relevant to the boys -> 1964 Food Stamp Act that saw the Creation of SNAP (food stamps) would be huge. However programs stem all the way back to the depression once again, more here

They Would have way older appliances and machinery- 40s old sometimes. Boys specifically have a Dixie stove and this old washer is an assumption of mine (if they had one at all!!)

[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 4 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary: As your relationship with Daemon develops you find a secret from his past. Daemon is haunted by a realisation.

Warning: 18+, Smut, sex, degradation kink, pain kink if you squint, consensual sexual choking, Reader has a personality, flashbacks of abusive relationship, sexual abuse, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, he’s not the best boyfriend, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, some violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

It's been a month since Daemon had turned up at your door and asked you to take him back, you were more than eager, it was not about just sex anymore.

You had already begun to care for him even before the breakup but ever since you two had decided to make this relationship healthier you have only fallen in love him more and more everyday, he didn't know that though, you haven't confessed yet, he was still fragile in the emotional sense so you didn't want to push him away with such a declaration of love.

He was trying to be gentler with you, his behavior was changing slowly and just something about a guy doing that for you made you feel special in a way.

He hadn't changed for other people though, just you, he was still the arrogant Daemon you had met the first night but in the privacy of your bedroom he was opening himself up to you, last night he allowed you to caress his head while he rested with his head on your lap on the couch while you two watched a movie, it felt cathartic to have a man like him crumble around you this way. He deserved to feel loved and cared for even though he detested it.

That night after you had affirmed that you wanted him and him only he was completely honest with you, he clarified that he wasn't ready to go all in just yet, he cared about you and felt something deep but he wasn't ready to accept it.

He warned you that he won't be the best man for you because he knew how his mood soured so quickly whenever he was confronted with a situation that reminded him of his past, you still didn't know what had happened to him but you knew it had something to do with a lover.

You were cleaning around the kitchen when you heard your doorbell buzzing so you quickly got him in, he hugged you and then kissed you before he put his hand inside the pocket of his oversized hoodie and took out a tiffany box.

In last one month he had gifted you a coffee machine, a brand new blender which he figured out somehow that you had saved in your wishlist, a few pieces of expensive jewelry you didn't need and now whatever this was,

"What is it?" You chuckled so he smiled,

"Don't worry I'm not asking you to marry me" he joked, that was another fear he had, one of the reasons he didn't want to get involved in a serious relationship was because he didn't want to get married or have kids. You weren't sure what you wanted yet so you really didn't think much of it, for now you just wanted to be with him and he made you happier than you have ever been with a man.

He opened the box and you saw an elegant diamond studded locket in there, it had his initials on the pendant.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't wish to but I got it made extra lightweight so you won't even feel it" he really loved spending his money on you for some reason, he put the chain around your neck and he wasn't wrong, the locket barely had any weight on it.

"Mmmm are you trying to own me ..with your name tag and everything?" you mumbled against his mouth before you kissed him, he couldn't help but smile.

"I already own you silly girl" as soon as he used that voice on you, you were a putty in his hands, you took his hoodie off his body and he wasn't wearing anything underneath it, he picked you up in his arms and took you to the bedroom.

Unlike before Daemon had started to stay the nights here with you and in your sleep you did break the condition he had regarding cuddling but he didn't really mind that. He actually allowed himself to enjoy the warmth of your body.

He laid you down on the bed and stared at you, the initials engraved on the pendant were glittering in the low light of your bedroom.

"Take your clothes off darling, the chain stays" he said firmly so you undressed slowly while you kept your eyes on him and teased him "Mmm good girl..want to fuck you just like that" he gripped your chin and leaned down to kiss you before he pulled away. You got up on your knees and unbuttoned his pants, he had such a pretty cock, so thick in girth and the perfect size, he kept his icy blonde bushes trimmed, the carpet matched the drapes. He had never allowed you to touch him, caress him or suck him before but he was slowly getting rid of that fear of his especially when he noticed your eagerness to please him. He just didn't want to lose all control the way he had done with her.

That's what made him so useless.

He moaned as you grabbed his length in your fist and gave him a stroke, your lips trailed down from his sternum to his abs,

"Is this okay?" You whispered softly and he cupped your cheeks to kiss you.

"Mmmm" he hummed in response as you kissed down from his earlobe to his neck and your lips trailed over the scar on his shoulder blades, his face scrunched in a mixture of pleasure and fright at the same time, he grabbed the back of your neck and laid you down on the bed as he got on top of you,

"That's it darling…I need a moment" he told you softly so you nodded.

"You're okay i promise, you're safe" he gulped as you said that but he didn't step away, he placed his head between your neck and tried to calm his wrecked nerves. You continued to caress his hair and just a minute later he was hard and ready to go again , sometimes he would put a condom on when he fucked you but the other times he just fucked you raw like this, he always enquired if you were talking your pills and you always wondered why he was so diligent about it. Maybe he feared that you'd get pregnant or something.

He got on his knees and pushed his cock inside you, his hand wrapped around your throat as he moved his cock in and out of you slowly.

Nothing about your sex life had changed, it was only becoming more intense and satisfying with every night you spent with him.

He pulled out of you and flipped you around on your front, you gasped as he spanked your cheeks harshly then he brushed your hair aside and his fingers curled around the chain, he thrusted in again at the same time as he pulled your head up using the hold on the chain, there was a sweet pressure around your throat when he pulled on it, you moaned as he leaned down and kissed the side of your neck,

He placed his other arm on the mattress for the support as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

"Tell me that you're mine" he whispered in your ears, his voice was husky and breathy in your ears.

"I'm yours baby I'm yours"

"Tell me that I own this pretty little cunt of yours" he asked again,

"You own my body..you own my cunt..oh god you own me i swear" a loud moan escaped your throat as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Such an obedient slut..so perfect" he mumbled at the same time as your walls clenched around him and both of you hit the peak of this euphoria together. His cock twitched inside you as you continued to milk his cock and his warm cum filled you to the brim.

You placed your hand around his cheek as you turned your head and he placed his forehead on yours as you both tried to come down from your respective highs.

As his cock went limp he pulled out of you and turned you around on your back.

"I need a cigarette" he whispered softly so you nodded, it's not that you didn't enjoy aftercare after the sex but he wasn't the type of man to give you that and you wanted to respect his boundaries, he was already doing a few things you never thought he would so you wanted to give him time.

He was going to get off you but then he placed his hand on your cheek and stared at you for a moment, a smile formed on his lips.

"You're beautiful, you know that right?" You smiled as he said that. He was doing his best.

"Come here". He murmured as he leaned down and kissed you a few times as tenderly as he could before he finally got up. He never wanted you to feel used even though deep down he knew his actions must have indicated otherwise especially after sex but he wasn't ready to go all sappy for you. He went to the bathroom and when he came back..you got up to clean yourself, when you returned he was in the bed lighting up the cigarette, you knew you had to intervene about this habit at some point as well but now wasn't the time.

"Want me to go to the other room?" He asked you as you got in the bed so you kissed his cheek,

"Stay mister cheese burger" he smiled as you said that. You laid your head down on his shoulder and watched his chest heaving, his heart was still beating so fast.

"Shit I need my ashtray" he cursed under his breath and was about to get up but you put your palm under the cigarette and collected the falling ashes before they could fall on him or the bed. He looked at you intensely as he took another drag and rubbed the ashes on your palm with his fingers hoping it didn't hurt but then next time he promptly dipped the ashes on your palm and you sucked a breath as you felt the warmth of it.

"Kinky" he mumbled as he continued to look at you and it made you smile.

"I'm just used to burning my hands..I don't even feel this"

"Is that so?" he mumbled as he took the last hit from the cigarette while his hypnotic gaze never left your eyes, you suddenly got on his lap and he looked up at you as you sat down on his thighs while you kissed him.

"I have to put this out" he murmured against your mouth and you lifted yourself up until you had your breasts squished against his face,

"Do it" you mumbled as you grabbed his hand and brought it closer to your soft curves, he looked at you intensely, trying to figure out if you were joking or not but the look in your eyes was dark, maybe you were just horny at the moment and feeling bold.

"I'm not going to burn you, you silly girl" he resisted, he didn't want to hurt you like that. He never wanted to put his fingers on you or scar your skin. Especially when he knew how that felt.

"It's okay just once…let me feel it once" he glared at you as you grabbed his hand and he looked at the burning end of the cigarette before he gave into your request, you were asking for it afterall.

He quickly put the cigarette out on the swollen curve of your breasts in one quick motion and you winced because of the burn you felt, but then a moan escaped your mouth and he threw the cigarette away before he kissed you and quickly laid you down under him, his mouth trailed down and he latched his lips around the burned skin before licked it over and over again like a kitten,

"Don't make me do it again you hear me?" He glared at you, his eyes were teary so you nodded, you didn't want to trigger something, you didn't know what had gotten into you suddenly. You just wanted to feel it once and as much as you enjoyed the momentarily rush you knew it was going to hurt later.

"Yeah…I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry" you whispered softly so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you again before he rolled over and laid on his side, "Are you okay? I'm sorry" you whispered as you propped on your elbow. He looked at the mark and caressed it with his fingers.

"It's alright, it's not you i promise" you ran your fingers through his hair gently so he looked at you "Does it hurt?"

"It stings.. just a little"

"Why did you ask me to do that?"

"It was sexy"

"Hurting each other in bed is not sexy darling" he said sternly

"Mmmhmmm then why do you choke me?" You asked sheepishly

"It brings you pleasure, i see the look of pure ecstacy on your face when I do it"

"Well, this brought me pleasure too , you didn't hurt me, you gave me what I asked you to give me" he looked at you again as you said that "That being said..you don't have to do anything you don't want to do in bed, you could just say no and I'll never bring it up, it needs to be like that for both of us…it goes both ways, the safe word is not just for me.. okay?" You said softly and he gulped as the wheels in his head started to turn, he had horrible flashbacks of his time with her and how much she had abused his consent in bed, he just wanted to make her happy and keep her pleased while she continued to remind him of his role as a man in the relationship.

"I can say no and you'd listen to me?" He asked, his voice trembled as he spoke,

"Of Course i would, you're my boyfriend, I care about you and I would never want to do anything that will hurt you" you mumbled as you caressed his cheek.

"Thank you" he turned on his side towards you and you laid down on the pillow as well, you didn't want to overwhelm him so you kept your distance and didn't try to snuggle him, he was trying to open up slowly and you didn't want to hinder his progress.

You knew his trauma wasn't from his childhood because he had a good one, he grew up in London, he and his brother Viserys came to the USA when he was 18 and Viserys had just begun his UFC career, he only retired a few years ago.

Young Daemon looked up to his older brother and wanted to be in the professional ring someday just like Viserys, he even fulfilled that dream of his but something had happened to him later on in life that had ruined everything for him. His issues with intimacy and the scars on his body were enough of an indication that he was in an extremely debilitating and toxic abusive relationship with someone. You had tried to look him up and found an old picture of him from his first official league, he has won that match and he seemed so happy, it was the kind of happiness that seemed genuine, his smile reached his eyes in those pictures, you saw a woman clinging onto him in one of the pictures but you didn't find any further information about her or who she was.

You didn't want to be nosey, you knew he'd tell you if he wanted that information to be shared with you so for now you just wanted to be patient.

Next day you were at an event Daemon had taken you to with him, it was to celebrate the players that had been chosen for the next season and almost all the guys Daemon and Viserys trained under them had qualified. Casey Anderson made it too and that means you had to come face to face with Randall again. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes when you saw him, Daemon was busy with other people so you tried to avoid Randall but like a hawk he spotted you anyway.

"And we meet again" he walked towards you and you took a deep breath, your eyes met with Daemon from across the room so you assured him that you were fine, you didn't want him to lose his cool, especially today at such an event.

"Randall, congratulations" you said to him so he smiled.

"I see ..you're still dating that maniac huh? Makes sense..he's filthy rich" He chuckled but you noticed the venom dripping from his voice,

"He's not a maniac and I'd advise you to keep your mouth shut you fucking creep unless you want to lose a few more teeths" he glared at you as you said that. Funny how some men always got so frustrated when you treated them the way they treated you.

"I see huh ..a match made in heaven, gold digger and the woman abuser" he walked away after insulting you and you resisted the urge to turn around and give it back to him.

You understood why he called you a gold digger but why did he insult Daemon like that? What was he insinuating?

When all the players were on the stage you walked towards your boyfriend and you could see that he seemed lost in his head.

Daemon couldn't help but reminisce about the time he used to be one of these guys, Viserys always told him that it still wasn't too late, that he could still revive his career if he wanted to, he was far too skilled of a fighter to work behind the scenes but Daemon didn't think he was capable of doing it anymore. Everytime he was in the ring with people around him he only saw her face in the crowd and he remembered that last day he was in the ring, he knew he'd never get over that day.

As you linked your fingers with his he turned his head and focused his attention on you instead, he had seen that bastard Randall talking to you before so he was a bit concerned.

"Did he bother you?" He asked you so you shook your head.

"He's just a pathetic little man with a big ego"

"Are you describing me?" He joked but you glared at him

"You're not a pathetic little man"

He kissed your cheek quickly, he wasn't keen on doing any sort of PDA, that wasn't his style and you didn't mind that either but he needed to show you that he appreciated you because he really did appreciate you more than you could imagine and more than he was capable of showing you.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight" he mumbled softly so you smiled and squeezed his hand, his brother was looking at you from the other side of the room so you gave him a smile as well.

He was taking you back to his place after dinner and he saw you were a bit too quiet which wasn't like you at all so he tucked your hair behind your ear to get your attention. The action did make your heart flutter.

"Something wrong?"

"No ..just ..it's just Randall..he said something about you and it's bothering me, not because I believe him but because I know you're not like that I mean i know you..he shouldn't walk around saying stuff like that about you" you rambled on so he looked at you curiously,

"What did he say?"

"He called you a woman abuser" his jaw clenched as you said that.

"Did you believe him?"

"Of course not, that's not why I'm upset baby"

"Well you should be..he wasn't wrong.. he shouldn't know that though.. nobody is supposed to know about that" he mumbled under his breath so you looked at him,

"What do you mean?"

"Well i have done things you most certainly would not approve of" you looked at him confused as he admitted that Randall was right about him.

"You have hurt a woman?" He took a deep breath before he answered,

"Yeahhh..I put hands on a .. girlfriend of mine..hit her so badly that she was in the hospital for a month" he said nonchalantly as if it was something so ordinary for him. As he pulled into the driveway of his building complex he finally looked at you, there was a horrified look on your face,

"Are you scared of me now?" He asked you as he took your seat belt off and guided you to sit on his lap, you slowly crawled on top of him and he kissed you briefly.

"I'd never hurt you" he mumbled so you caressed his cheek with your fingers.

"Why did you do that?"

You asked him because you wanted to find the reason, you knew he had a short temper but he had never hurt you like that and you knew in your heart that he wasn't capable of doing something like that.

"You didn't answer my question..are you scared of me?"

He asked you again, this time his voice was more firm so you shook your head and kissed him lovingly to show him that you weren't afraid of him.

"I'm not scared of you, I'm just trying to understand you..there must be a reason, something that you're not telling me" you whispered softly, you didn't want to make your judgement on half information.

"I did it, reason or not, I did it and as a man I shouldn't have done it" his eyes teared up so you kissed his forehead. He wasn't a cruel man, you didn't want to believe that he'd just hurt someone like that in the fit of anger.

"Was it an act of retaliation? Defense?"

"It doesn't matter–"

"It does to me..I'm not asking you to tell me everything Daemon, it's just a simple question, did you do it because you finally had enough of it?" You asked him again and instead of answering he just nodded before he put his head down on your chest and hugged you tightly. You caressed his head to comfort him and none of you said a word for a while but then you spoke,

"It's okay…it's okay..i promise.. you did nothing wrong"

"I don't want you to think of me differently "

"I won't..i know you well enough to make my own judgments and I'll be here whenever you want to share more..you were just trying to protect yourself" he nodded as you said that. He had gotten really lucky in life when he had found you, the secrets he had kept from you were slowly starting to unravel but the way you looked at him made him believe that you won't put him down once you learn more about him. A part of him believed that you'd be his savior, that you'd hold his hand and pull him out of this hell he had trapped himself in.

He had given up on living, he was merely existing before you came into his life but now there was a hope again.

"I fear you'd pity me once you will learn everything about me" you chuckled as he said that but your eyes were teary and the look on your face was of pure admiration..

"Pity you? I could never pity the man that saved my life, you have been my only hero since that night in the alley.. I could never pity a man like you. You're so strong and no matter what you tell me, your past would never make me feel pity for you"

You told him your honest feelings and he just looked at you like you were his own personal angel sent from heaven, just for him.

It was in that exact moment he had realized that he was feeling something he had vowed to never feel. He was slowly falling in love again and he was terrified of that realization.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2

[strawberrybasilsorbet]

Jilytober Day 6

Had some time this evening to work on another Jilytober fic! (Edit: Oops, forgot to tag! @jilytoberfest ). Hoping to go back and catch up on the days I missed, but in the meantime, here's my try at today's prompt:

October 6th: Making food together / food disasters

Clearly, something had gone wrong.

James furrowed his brow, staring at the chunks of apple and squash that he'd painstakingly peeled and cubed — by hand! — before dumping them into the tall Muggle goblet. Maybe he'd made a mistake with the plugs?

Around him, the kitchen hummed with the soft crooning of a record player and the clinking of pots and pans. The aroma of thyme, sage and cinnamon filled the air, suffusing the space with the unmistakable scents of Christmas Eve.

Lily and her mother were chatting about a neighbor's upcoming baby shower, occasionally pausing to check a recipe book or put a dish into the oven. James glanced over to make sure that neither of them had yet noticed his mistake, then turned back to the eclectic goblet on the countertop.

He double-checked the plug. It sat in the wall, exactly as Lily had shown him. He looked once more at the switch on the back of the device. It was pointed toward the word "On."

Wasn't something supposed to be happening?

James yanked the plug out of the wall and flicked the "On/Off" switch again. No change. He removed the tight-fitting lid from atop the goblet and peered inside, trying to see if anything stirred. He could see the circle of blades at the bottom, but they didn't move.

There was nothing else for it.

"Um, excuse me. Mrs. Evans?"

"What is it, dear?" asked Lily's mother, looking up from where she had begun to measure out a cup of sugar.

James thought back to his fifth year Muggle Studies vocabulary exams, trying to remember the proper phrasing. "I think that your power might be out," he said.

Lily looked up, and she and her mother exchanged a glance, confused. James cringed internally at the awkward moment. He must have gotten it wrong. "I mean, I think there's something wrong with your eckletricity," he corrected hastily. He gestured at the goblet. "It isn't working."

Mrs. Evans still looked wrongfooted, but Lily smirked. "Having trouble with the blender?"

Even as embarrassed as he felt, James couldn't help but return her smile. "Yeah, seems like it," he replied.

"Did you plug it in?"

"Yes."

"Did you turn it on?"

"Yes!"

"Did you hit the button?"

James paused. "The button?"

"In the front." Lily giggled as James turned back to the device, examining the raised knobs on the base. He always forgot about Muggle buttons, which looked nothing at all like normal buttons, the sort one might use to fasten a cloak. "You have to press the button to make it start, James."

"Right," said James. He looked over at Mrs. Evans and ran a hand through his hair, trying to project confidence. "I know about buttons," he told her. "We covered them in school, I just forgot. I'll get it started now—"

"No, wait! The lid—"

But before James could react to Lily's warning, he had already pressed the fateful button that began the eclectic spell. With a horribly loud whirring sound, the blades at the bottom of the machine came to life, turning with a speed that made the goblet shake. In moments, it had sent chunks of apple and squash soaring through the kitchen — and splashed the chicken stock directly into James's face.

Without thinking, James grabbed his wand from his pocket and cast a Body-Bind curse on the machine. He'd mostly done this on impulse — he hadn't been at all certain that it would work — but the machine froze, salvaging most of the ingredients inside. He flicked the switch to "Off," then removed the curse.

James turned sheepishly back toward Mrs. Evans, who looked as if she were caught between amusement and disbelief. After a moment, amusement won out, and she laughed warmly before handing James a towel from a drawer.

"That's alright, James, dear," she said. "Why don't I take over the soup for now, and you stir up the batter for the pudding?" James nodded, switching places with Mrs. Evans to join Lily at the table. He wiped the stock from his face. "Can you double-check the roast, love?" Mrs. Evans asked her daughter, grabbing some more apples to replace what had been lost. Lily nodded and turned to the oven.

Putting the towel aside, James picked up a wooden spoon to work on the pudding. He hoped his face wasn't too red.

Gripping the spoon awkwardly in his hand, he began to mix the sugar, chopped cranberries, flour and molasses together in wide circles. This was only his second time meeting Lily's parents —the first had been on the train platform as they arrived home for the holidays — and his first time visiting a Muggle house. He'd been so proud to be invited to Christmas Eve dinner, and when he'd offered to help, he'd been hoping to show the Evanses that he could fit in — to make a good impression. But the sheer number of strange devices and loud sounds to remember had overwhelmed him, made it difficult to keep Lily's instructions fixed in his head. He hadn't meant to use magic. Not, James grumbled internally, that he'd been doing so well without it...

James's spiraling thoughts were interrupted by a warm hand taking his own. His heart stuttered. "Hold the spoon like this," Lily said, stepping in to rearrange his grip. "Like a wand. You'll have more control, and you'll be able to whip the batter faster."

James could think of nothing but the warmth of Lily's hands over his own. She stood so close that he could have counted her freckles without his glasses.

The sudden din of eckletricity made him jump. Mrs. Evans had managed to fix the issue with the eclectric goblet (The blender, Lily had said? Or was he thinking of a fender?). After a few moments, the apples and squash were pulverized into a thick, liquid mixture. It looked as though the soup was saved.

"There," Mrs. Evans said with satisfaction, turning back toward Lily and James at the table. Her lips quirked upward, and Lily took a quick step back.

"I was just showing James how to hold the spoon, Mum," Lily said, reddening. "He doesn't mix batter often, since wizard families usually use spells for cooking..."

Mrs. Evans, who had looked skeptical of her daughter's excuses, turned toward James with interest. "Really?"

James nodded. "Oh, yeah, we always use magic to cook at my house."

"Well, isn't that the most exciting thing!" She looked impressed. "Could you show me?"

"He can! He's seventeen, too!" said Lily eagerly. That was right — she'd said that her mum was interested in magic. It was her sister that was the problem...

James ran his hand through his hair, which (to his embarrassment) was still wet with chicken stock. Lily's mother was watching him expectantly. This was his opportunity to make up for his earlier fumbling, James thought, drawing his wand. He tried to remember the spell for stirring. He'd seen the wand movement so many times...

The cranberry batter exploded in his face.

The kitchen was silent. James blinked, covered in food for the second time in a row. "Um. Usually my mum does it."

Mrs. Evans burst into loud guffaws, and suddenly, James felt lighter than he'd been all afternoon. "Of course she does," Mrs. Evans said. "Nothing new under the sun. Let me grab you a towel to clean up, dear..."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Evans," James said. As she bustled from the kitchen, he turned back toward the table, wondering if he should measure out ingredients for a second batch.

As Mrs. Evans footsteps grew quieter on the stairs, Lily stepped close to James once more. "Very smooth," she whispered in his ear. In a quick movement, she licked some of pudding batter from his cheek and kissed the skin underneath. James blushed.

Lily walked back to her side of the table, eyeing James with mock thoughtfulness. Cranberry juice and molasses stained her mouth like lipstick. "The batter's okay," she said, grinning. "Let's add more sugar this time."

[surpriserose]

Guys please help i think i got a haunted copy of papas freezeria deluxe and now im scared

Like a lot of people, I was excited to see Papa’s Freezeria Deluxe come to Steam. It was a dream come true. Until it became a nightmare. I thought I was in for a weekend of nostalgic fun. Boy was I wrong. 

It started okay, I didn’t get it from a sketchy source or anything. I'm against piracy and I would never pirate a game so near and dear to my heart. I just downloaded it off Steam like any other game. And it looked like a normal children’s game too. The starting screen was bright and happy, the smoothies on either side of the start button beckoning me in. 

The problems didn’t start until I hit my first payday. Since I finally had the money from a week’s worth of drinks, I clicked on the shop page. When I looked at the furniture it was all purple and black and orange. The whole shop was Halloween themed and I hadn’t even unlocked holidays yet. I thought it was a little odd, but figured it was just a visual glitch in the end. The video game equivalent of colors bleeding in the wash. I bought a few bats and hung them up in the spirit of things. 

When I clicked to start the next day, it was like I really had skipped forward to Halloween. My first customer was Marty and he was in costume. He was dressed as a zombie, but the thing was, his costume just looked so realistic. His skin was gray and cracked in places, showing muscle and bone underneath. His model lurched forward, hands with long black nails raised up. He left a trail of hyper realistic blood on the floor. Then my avatar spotted Marty and he looked scared. My simulacrum contorted his cartoonish brows and his mouth gaped open.

Quickly, I pressed to go to the blender station, hoping to save my avatar. Instead of the usual head on counter view, I was in a hallway with a third person view of my avatar. I could see the entire kitchen and it was horrifying. The ice cream machine was slowly churning what looked like more hyper realistic blood. I hoped it was just strawberry flavored. Bloody handprints were smeared on the walls and counters. There were about five bloody knives on the floor. The toppings section was awash in human viscera. I had to get my little guy out of here. I spotted a door at the end of the hallway.

I started pressing the W key, which is forward in most games. My avatar moved forward slowly, as if he was hesitating. As if somehow whatever was in front of him was worse than what was behind him. But that couldn’t be possible, right? I smashed the W key down and my avatar started sprinting. He slammed into the door and flung it open, revealing an alleyway behind the Freezeria. One that was crawling with 30 of those hyper realistic zombies. They all looked like the other customers. Neither I or my avatar had any time to react before they leapt at him. Where my avatar once stood was now a mass of gray and green hands and a slowly growing pool of blood beneath them. But my avatar could still scream, and did. They sounded so real and chilled me to the bone. 

The curtains swooped down from either side of my screen and the familiar after work minigame popped up. Sundae shot. I only had one ticket to play and there was no way to exit the game. I pressed start.

The curtains retreated, revealing a horde of realistic zombies. I was in first person, a pistol in my cartoon hands. I grabbed my mouse and switched to FPS mode. I shot the first Zombie in the head, and Boomer went down, the remains of her head splattered on the wall behind her. I was able to take out four more of them before the gun clicked in my hand. Empty. I swore and started trying to move using WASD, but I remained rooted in place as the horde marched forward. I threw my arms up in front of my face, bracing for gory impact. But the curtains swung down right as the first zombie reached me.

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath, and let out a sigh. The game had closed itself. I was tired after this ordeal, so I figured I’d save deleting it from my Steam library for tomorrow. I stood up from my chair and stretched my arms above my head before I heard the satisfying click in my back. It was another click I heard first. The click of a lock being turned. I swung towards the door of my studio apartment. It creaked open a few inches and I heard a harmony of low groans. It was when the first rotted hand stuck out from the shadows outside that I knew I had nowhere to run.

[lauraschiller]

When I was seven years old, I found a room that exists outside of time.

It was shortly after my parents died - I’d rather not talk about that, if you don’t mind - and their friends Rudy and Kirsten took me in. They had asked me to think of them and their three children as family, but I couldn’t quite manage it yet. They were good people and they did their best, but sometimes I just couldn’t stand the noises in that house. 

It felt especially loud to me that day; my ears still ring just thinking about it. I wandered from one corner of the house to the other, my orange plush cat and a tattered paperback copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe clutched in my arms, looking for somewhere - anywhere - quiet. 

I couldn’t read in my own room because I shared it with Melissa, and she was practicing on the piano. If you think that sounds soothing, you’ve never heard the same fumbled chord over and over on a tinny electric keyboard. I stood by the door for a while anyway, curious about what the piece would sound like if she got it right. She looked up, lifted her purple-polished nails off the keys, and frowned. “Do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate!”

So was I, but I shuffled off down the hallway without a word.

In the living room downstairs, Frank and Josh were sprawled on the couch in their sweatpants and sports jerseys, playing a video game. Virtual gunfire shook the floor. Blood splattered across the screen. I flinched. They laughed.

“Scaredy-cat!” Frank sneered after me as I ran.

“Hey, leave her alone,” Josh said. “She’s just a kid.”

I could hear them bickering and shoving as I ducked into the kitchen.

“Boys!” Kirsten called through the door. “Can you please kill each other more quietly?”

They turned down the volume by a few decibels, but kept playing.

She was standing at the counter, chopping a carrot. I must have seen her that way hundreds of times, with her green-and-yellow-striped apron on and her hair - it was still blonde then - falling out of its clip. She put down her knife and pushed the flyaway strands out of her face. “Did you need something, dear?”

“I … uh … ”

“Looking for a place to read?” She smiled down at the book and toy I was holding.

“I … can’t,” I said. My throat was tight. “There isn’t anywhere.”

“In an old house like this, there’s always somewhere.” She cupped my cheek with a hand still wet from washing vegetables and kissed me on the forehead. I usually avoid being touched, not because I don’t like it, but because the feeling tends to linger for a long time. “This is your home. I hope you know that.”

I nodded, the lump in my throat growing tighter. 

She scraped all the carrots into the blender and switched it on. The sound of that machine, a shrill roar that rattled my teeth all the way to the back of my head, made conversation impossible. I fled back upstairs.

Kirsten was right; the house was old. It was a modest red brick split-level, the kind we used to see more of in this neighborhood before they got crowded out by these giant cubes made of glass and concrete. The floorboards creaked. The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling in a few places, forming patterns like spiderwebs. Wind and rain rattled the window panes. I walked in circles, opening and closing the same doors over and over, re-memorizing the layout - bathroom here, linen closet there - as if my life depended on it. I could still hear all the noises of the house - the blender, Melissa’s keyboard, the boys’ shooter game, the constant hum of the fridge and heater, the driving rain outside - jangling wildly in my ears. I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to get away. 

I grabbed the nearest doorknob, hurled myself through and shut it behind me.

The noises stopped.

My skin tingled.

I was standing in a room I had never seen before, a room I knew at once was somehow different from every other part of the house, even before I could define it. Besides the quiet, the difference was in the light. While the rain had turned the light everywhere else a washed-out gray, here it was the warm gold of an afternoon just before sunset. It flickered through the branches of the maple tree growing beside the house, making leaf-shadows dance on the walls. I was almost a little surprised to see that maple. To my seven-year-old mind, it would have been just as logical for the window to open on a whole other world.

In other respects, it seemed like an ordinary room. Two armchairs stood on either side of the window, their indigo upholstery faded from the sun like a favorite pair of jeans. A little table stood between them with a cloth draped over it, deep blue like the chairs, printed with an intricate pattern of white vines and flowers. Shelves lined the walls, holding books, magazines, little ornaments (including a teddy bear with oatmeal-colored fur, a pair of ceramic dancers in white wigs and ruffles, and an unlit candle beside a black-and-white photograph of people I didn’t know), and a turntable complete with a row of vinyl records ...

It was all so much like home, I could barely breathe.

That tablecloth was my mother’s, made by the grandmother I was named for, with a method called Blaudruck or blue-dyeing that was centuries old. As a child, you take these things for granted - I’d never even asked what had happened to all these things - but now I walked around the table examining it from all angles, smoothed the creases, traced the swirling leaves and petals with my fingertip, and even leaned down to sniff it. It smelled like the lavender sachets my mother used to keep in her closet. 

The records were my father’s. He had trusted me to handle them, even at my age. He had shown me how to slide them carefully out of their cardboard sleeves; to touch only the edges and the center, never the surface; to wipe off any fingerprints with a soft cloth. On that day, however, I didn’t play any of them; it was enough just to flick through them, to look at the cover art - a rainbow arcing through a black triangle; a little green dragon perched on the moon - and puzzle over the mysterious grown-up lyrics printed on the back of the sleeves. 

I don’t know how long I stayed in that room. I only know I never stopped to think about the time, which is the surest sign of being happy. I curled up in one of the armchairs to read my book and pet my plush cat until I could have sworn he purred.

/

“So, what have you all been up to?” Rudy asked across the dinner table that evening, as he always did when he came home from the office.

That question used to make me fidget every time I heard it. When he surveyed us from under his peaked black eyebrows, frown lines carved into his face, I always suspected him of suspecting us of some kind of trouble. It took me years to figure out that this was only his awkward way of making conversation. 

Kirsten, who was used to him, grumbled good-naturedly about the challenges of knitting stripes, which reminded Melissa of how tricky her new piano piece was, which reminded the boys of the new game level they had reached (complete with arguments about who had played it better). I was only half listening, relieved to have their attention off me as I waited for my hot soup to cool down to edible.

“What about you, Hertha? How are you spending your summer vacation so far?” 

My spoon splashed into the soup.

“Reading? Drawing? Watching movies?” Rudy was an unstoppable list-maker. He would fire off options one after another until I chose one, and if I didn’t choose quickly enough, possibly start from the beginning. I waited for what I felt was a suitable pause between words - I’d been reminded often enough that it was rude to interrupt, although how to avoid interrupting people who talked this much was a different matter - took a deep breath, and dived in like a cartoon burglar through a laser grid.

“I was in the other living room,” I said. “Reading. With Leo.” (Leo was the name of my plush cat.)

Rudy’s frown lines deepened. “Other living room?”

“The … the one upstairs,” I faltered. “With the record player.”

“There’s no living room upstairs,” he said. “Just your bedrooms and the linen cupboard. And what record player?” 

“But I really was there!” I blurted out. “It’s not like anywhere else in the house. It was sunny there and … and it smelled like our old house.”

I could pinpoint the exact moment when he decided not to believe me. He gave me the same shaky smile I’d seen from all the guests at my parents’ funeral, the one that said he felt sorry for me, but had absolutely no idea how to help. 

“Oh, that’s … that’s nice,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “That sounds beautiful.”

“Upstairs? Like what, the cupboard?” whispered one of the children. I was staring down into the thick orange gloop that was my dinner, though, and didn’t look up to see who it was. “She was pretending in the cupboard?”

“I knew she was weird. Even before - ”

“Shut up!”

“Kids, stop it.” Kirsten’s clear voice cut through the whispers like a knife. “Remember what we talked about before. If Hertha needs her personal space, then we give it to her. Without judging her. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mom,” they chorused.

I didn’t want them to give me space, only to believe me. But if there was one thing I took away from that conversation, it was this: I should never talk about the other living room again.

A short time later, when Kirsten asked me about it in a smiling, casual way - “So, how was the upstairs living room? Everything comfortable?” - I assumed that she was only humoring me, and gave her the coldest look my seven-year-old eyes could muster.

“I don’t play that game anymore,” I informed her.

She looked at me with something like sadness, but then shrugged and let the subject drop.

/

It was about forty years later that I came back for Kirsten’s funeral.

After the reading of the will, we all somehow found ourselves back at the house, drinking iced tea in the living room as stiffly and formally as if we’d never sprawled on the sofa, read all night in the armchair, or watched cartoons on the old TV that no longer worked. Melissa wore a sleek black dress and a hat with a spotted veil. Frank and Josh wore their best black suits. I wore the only black dress I owned, an old polyester number that itched and clung after our sweltering car ride from the lawyer’s office. Rudy wasn’t there - he had passed away a few years earlier - but someone had lit a candle beside his picture on the fireplace mantel. It felt like his funeral all over again, as well as his wife’s, which in a way it was. 

“So,” said Melissa, stirring the ice cubes in her glass with a sharp clatter. “Did any of you have any idea that Mom would do this?”

“Nope,” and “Not me,” said the men. 

All three of them turned to look at me.

“I … didn’t know either.” I had to cough twice before my scratchy voice would work. “I didn’t know she’d leave this house to me. I never … I never asked her to.”

“Of course not.” Her smile was brittle. “I didn’t think you did. I mean, you’re not exactly the domestic type. What would you want with a whole house? ”

“To live in it, maybe?” Josh suggested, raising his head from where he leaned tiredly against his corner of the sofa. 

“I’m just saying.” She waved her hand in the air to indicate all the space in this room. “It’s too big for a single person. Some of us have families - ”

“Mel,” Josh protested.

“Sorry, Hertha. You know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not like I begrudge her anything,” she said, turning to Josh. “It’s just - ”

“If you ask me,” Frank chimed in, although no one had actually asked him, “The most logical thing to do would be to sell it.” Melissa relaxed into the cushions and nodded, as if she’d been about to suggest the same thing. “The value of this place has gone up through the roof since Mom and Dad bought it. If we sell it and divide the proceeds between the four of us, it would only be fair, don’t you think?”

“It’s your decision, Hertha,” said Josh, meeting my eyes point-blank. “What do you want to do?”

I had no idea - or rather, I had far too many at once.

Frank was right, but why did he sound so wrong to me? I couldn’t bear to leave this house, but how was I supposed to look after it? What if something broke and I couldn’t afford the repairs? My job at the time let me work remotely, but didn’t pay much. I’d been bouncing from one shabby rental apartment to another, where the landlord took care of problems and if they didn’t, I could just move. I was completely unprepared to be a homeowner. I’d run it into the ground. If Rudy were here, he’d probably agree. I could almost hear him calculating how much the house would fetch on today’s real estate market, but would that be because it was the logical solution, or because I wasn’t really his daughter? Even if I could keep the house, would the others ever forgive me for taking what should have been theirs?

What would Kirsten say if she were here? What would my parents say? 

All these thoughts went boiling up inside my head like lava in a volcano, then erupted in tears. I barely had time to mutter “Excuse me, I need a moment,” before running upstairs, so that these three logical adults wouldn’t see me disgrace my forty-seven years by crying.

Half blind with tears, I reached for the bathroom door so I could sob myself out and wash my face. I thought I saw two doors in the wall instead of one, but that had to be my eyes playing tricks on me. 

I thought of the magical room I used to daydream about as a child. If ever I needed a place like that, it would be now, but surely it couldn’t be real. Still, I missed it more than I had ever missed anything in my life.

If only it were real … 

I stumbled through the door.

This was not the bathroom.

The other living room hadn’t changed a bit from what I’d imagined - no, remembered. My mother’s indigo tablecloth was still draped over the table. My father’s records still leaned in a row next to the player. The two armchairs looked as cozy as they ever had. Even the light coming in through the window was the light of a different day and time. Outside, it had been the kind of hot, humid August day that feels like you’re breathing pea soup. From this window, I could see a full silver moon and a golden street lamp shining over a blue-white blanket of snow. 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The time display was blinking as if it had shorted out.

The other living room was real. Even when I looked for it as a teenager and couldn’t find it, even when I told myself it was only make-believe at best and a delusion at worst, even when I moved out to go to college and never felt at home anywhere again, all along it had been real.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, walking softly around the room, and: “Thank you.”

I told myself I was only going to stay until I calmed down, but I couldn’t seem to stop crying. Everything set me off, from the teddy bear on the shelf to the scent of lavender, blending with the lemon soap that Kirsten had always used as if the two of them had just stepped out moments ago. I crumpled up one tissue after another from the box on the table and stuffed them into my pockets. My eyes and nose burned.

I never heard the door open, or the sound of slippered footsteps on the rug. What made me look up was a soft, shaky intake of breath - in a voice that was not mine.

“Oh my,” said Kirsten. “Well … the doctors did warn me.”

She must have taken one look at my black dress, red nose and swollen eyes and guessed from what time I had just come. Looking at her, I could make a similar guess: This was after she’d stopped chemo, but before she had gone to the hospice. Her hair was growing back in soft white wisps. She looked pale and drawn, but not as much as during those last weeks. She wore the soft burgundy shawl Rudy had given her on the last Christmas before his heart attack. She shuffled into the room, wrapping the ends of that shawl around her as if she were cold.

I really had to stop crying now. It would be too unfair to make her comfort me about her own death. Besides, sheer astonishment was drying my tears faster than anything else could have done. In all the years I’d lived or even visited this house, I had never seen another person enter this room.

“How … how is this happening?” I croaked. “How are you here? I thought … ”

“You thought you were the only one?” Her wrinkles deepened into a wry, knowing smile. “Who do you think showed you the way? Or tried to, anyhow. After all these years, I’m glad to see it actually worked.”

She settled herself in the armchair next to mine with a creak and a sigh, waiting patiently for me to collect my scattered thoughts.

“Showed me the … ? Oh!” I thought back to the day I had first found the room. What I usually remembered was loneliness, but in that moment, I heard Kirsten’s “This is your home” as clearly as if it were the first time. “Oh … thank you!”

“You’re very welcome.”

“But you … we never talked about it … ”

“You didn’t seem to want to,” said Kirsten with a shrug. “I figured you needed privacy.”

All these years we had missed out on sharing something so precious to both of us. 

“How did you even find this place? Did you … ” My voice dropped to an awed whisper as a new idea occurred to me. “Did you … create it?”

“Me?” She laughed until she had to catch her breath. “Goodness, no! If I could control time and space like that, I’d make a door to some sunny beach somewhere.” She shook her head and wiped her eyes, still grinning. “No, I found it when we first moved here, before the kids were born. I made such a mess in the kitchen one night, just when Rudy’s boss was invited to dinner. Tomato sauce everywhere, I swear, it looked like a crime scene! I ran to the cupboard for paper towels, panicking all the time, and opened this door instead. You can imagine how that put my messy kitchen into perspective.”

I laughed along with her, not only because it was so rare for the Kirsten I knew to panic, but because I knew exactly what she meant. 

“So you had time to clean before the boss showed up?”

“Oh no, but at least it gave us something to joke about.” Her smile faded away into a wistful little sigh. “Those were good times.”

I nodded slowly. This room did have a way of reminding you of your good times. I ran my finger over the swirling white vine pattern on my mother’s tablecloth the way I used to as a child. The dye hadn’t faded. Nothing ever seemed to fade here. 

“Was it you who put my parents’ things here?”

“Yes, I did.” She peered down with respectful attention at the pattern I was tracing. “They left them for you. I couldn’t think of a safer place.”

I had no words for what that had meant to me over the years except a half-choked “Thank you,” but she smiled and patted my hand as if she understood.

“I, um … I have another question.” One I never thought I’d have the chance to ask before now, even though it had been on my mind for decades.

“You can ask me anything,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Did you ever … ” 

How did I say this without sounding completely unhinged? It did help a little to remember that certain people - those downstairs probably included - would not consider either of us entirely sane for believing in a place like this. 

“Did you ever want to just … move in here?” I asked, with an awkward wave of my hand around the room. “I mean … like you said, it’s a safe place. The only safe place sometimes, it feels like. Do you ever just want to … stay?”

As I talked, I could imagine all too clearly how she might want to. Since she was dying, a place where time did not obey its usual rules might call to her even more than it did to me. When she left this room, the cancer would go back to eating away at her. She’d have to give up everything she enjoyed: long walks, rich food, even crafting once she could no longer thread a needle. Frank would organize an online schedule for us all to take turns bringing her groceries. She would die comfortable, but vacant, with too many painkillers in her system to recognize any of our faces.

I couldn’t tell whether she was thinking any of the same things. All I know is that when she answered, her face was as calm and confident as I had ever seen it.

“No, dear,” she said. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why not?”

“Well, you still get hungry, for one thing.”

“Oh.” That matter-of-tact answer made me suspect that, at one point in her life, she might have actually tried it. 

“Also, I’ve been wondering all my life how this place could have happened, and my best guess is that it must be a miracle. Miracles,” she fixed her bright blue-gray eyes on me with something almost like a challenge, “Aren’t meant to hide away in. They’re meant to be shared.”

“A miracle … ” I repeated, halfway between awe and dismay. “Wait - shared? You mean with - ” I tipped my head in the direction of the door, outside of which were the stairs that led to Melissa, Frank and Josh in the living room.

“With your brothers and sister, yes. That’s exactly what I mean.”

Not even the implication that all four of us were equally her children made me feel any less like a bristling porcupine. 

“But - they’ll never believe me!” I sputtered. “They didn’t back then, so why would they now? They already think there’s something wrong with me. If I come after them with something like this, I … I don’t even know what they’d do! They never wanted me in this family - all these years, they never even tried to get to know me - ”

“There is nothing wrong with you. No one here believes that.” Kirsten’s voice was quiet, but very stern, as she interrupted my tirade. “And as for trying, when was the last time you tried to get to know them?”

That silenced me at once.

The shameful truth was that I couldn’t remember the last time I had tried to get close to the others. I never learned to take rejection well; one setback is enough to set all my metaphorical quills on edge. I must have given up soon after moving in with them. If our not feeling like a real family was partly their fault, it was also partly mine. 

Besides, I realized, I might be wrong about that too. Earlier today, hadn’t Josh defended me from Melissa’s comment about me being too single for such a big house? Hadn’t Melissa apologized? And hadn’t Frank done his best to find a solution that was fair to all of us?

“You’re right.” I blushed and lowered my head. “I should try … I will try.”

“That’s all I can ask.” 

Kirsten gripped the arms of the chair and began rising carefully to her feet, signaling quite clearly even to me that she was worn out and wanted to end this conversation. I could have sat talking to her for hours - if you could call them hours in this timeless place - just so I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to her again, but I knew how selfish that would be.

I did, however, have one more question.

“Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Dying, you mean?” She snorted. “Of course!”

“Really? … You don’t seem scared.”

“I don’t like to worry all of you.” She leaned on my arm as we shuffled towards the door, her thin hand holding on with surprising strength. “Also, I’m curious about what happens next. I like to think of Rudy standing by the Pearly Gates, with a full itinerary of sights.” 

I smiled, because that sounded so like him. 

“And if I’m wrong and nothing happens,” she added with characteristic common sense, “At least I’ll never have to find out.”

Just as we reached the door, she squeezed my arm even tighter and looked up at me with sudden intensity, stopping me in mid-step. “One more thing,” she said.

“Yes?”

“Tell your sister and your brothers that I love them.” Her eyes glittered. “And tell yourself the same. I wish I’d said it more often.”

“You show it all the time,” I said. “But - yes, of course, and - Mom?”

“Yes, dear?”

“I love you too.”

I opened the door for us both.

One moment she was holding on to me, the next she was gone.

I’d thought I was all cried out for the night, but I wasn’t. All the better; these tears barely hurt at all.

/

My siblings, of course, were still sitting in the downstairs living room. From their perspective, I must have left the room for only a few moments, just long enough to splash water on my face and take a few deep breaths. 

Standing in the doorframe in the moment before they spotted me, it struck me how old they looked. They had always been older than me, but this was different. The men’s hair was turning from salt-and-pepper to plain salt, and Melissa’s was such a bright gold, I guessed that she dyed it. Their skin was beginning to have that crepe-paper look. All three of them were on their phones, scrolling and frowning, avoiding each other’s eyes. It felt like such a short time since we had been children. In Kirsten’s eyes, no doubt we still were.

I stepped forward.

“Are you okay?” Josh pocketed his phone and came towards me, his blue-gray eyes wide with concern. 

“I’m, uh … better, thanks.” I blinked away the last few tears and cleared my throat. “I need to tell you something.”

He nodded, stepped back and waved a hand for me to go ahead. All three of them looked up with polite, expectant faces. It felt like being a teenager again and having to give a presentation in class, only more so. I wished I had stayed upstairs at least long enough to prepare a speech.

I turned to Melissa first, who I had always thought disliked me the most, just to get it over with. “You’re right,” I said, causing her to raise her eyebrows. “This house is too big for one person … and in some ways, I can see how it would make sense to sell it,” turning to Frank, who nodded in a gratified way and opened his mouth as if to jump right into a planning session. I flung up my hands just in time, however, and no one interrupted.

“It’s just … this house, it’s … it’s more than a piece of real estate,” I went on in my incoherent way. “It’s the only home I can really remember. It’s where Kir - it’s where Mom and Dad took care of us, and … and it’s where we could always come back when we needed to. I don’t … I don’t see why it can’t still be like that. I think … we could all use a place to come back to, sometimes. I know it’s not where we live, most of the year anyway, but this is still our home, and I … I want to keep it. For all of us.”

This was the most personal thing I had said to them in years. I might as well have come downstairs in my underwear. I waited for Melissa to roll her eyes, or Frank to keep arguing, or Josh to look away in quiet second-hand embarrassment. I waited.

“Huh,” said Frank, squinting at me over the top of his glasses. “That’s interesting.”

I braced myself for whatever came next.

“What’s interesting?” Josh asked warily. 

“That the adopted kid takes after Mom the most.” Frank smiled. “Doesn’t she?”

“I know what you mean,” Melissa admitted in a surprisingly small voice. “I always used to wonder where she went to find that … whatever it was … peace, I guess? It made me so jealous.”

“Me too.” Josh shared a rueful smile with her. “Wish I could go there.”

In that moment, the same current I had sensed when Kirsten had told me I was home went buzzing through my hands. Without thinking about it, I knew exactly what to do. I sat down on the sofa between Josh and Melissa and put a hand on each of their arms, and Josh - as if by instinct - reached over to nudge Frank. The current flowed between the four of us at once.

“You’ll find it,” I said to my family.

I believed it then, and I still do. 

Whoever you are, reading this, may you find it too.

There’s a room in your house that exists outside of normal time. No one can bother you because no time passes between you going in and coming out no matter how long you’re there. Until one day someone is already there.

[atplblog]

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[aawkitchens]

Essential Home and Kitchen Appliances for Ramadan Home Decor

These are some of the essential appliances you need to stock up this Ramadan.

#High-Quality Blender for Refreshing Beverages

A flawless hand blender needs to find its place in your kitchen this Ramadan. This appliance is a hand-on efficient machine to quickly whip your favorite smoothies or drinks like Jallab or Tamarind juice. A high-quality hand blender will always make cooking effortless and hassle-free. You can look for a design with multiple speed attributes and strong blades to smoothly mix together fruits, dates, and ice effortlessly.

#Coffee Machine for Late-Night Energy Boosts

As late-night prayers and suhoor preparations are going to take up most of the time in the holy season, a coffee machine becomes a necessity. Get yourself an espresso or drip coffee machine and stay all refreshed and energized throughout the day. Out of all the designs, we recommend opting a model with programmable settings to have your coffee ready whenever you crave it.

#Dishwasher and Washing Machine for Effortless Cleanup

Any Iftar gathering leaves behind a pile of dirty dishes and laundry. A reliable dishwasher will get the job done easily and save you time, allowing you to focus on enjoying the moment with your loved ones. Also, with a washing machine, you can keep table linens, napkins, and Ramadan outfits always fresh and clean throughout the month. Keep an eye out for energy-efficient models that offer versatile wash attributes for different types of utensils and fabrics.

#Serving Trays, Lunch Box Kuwait, and Warming Plates

During Ramadan, you need to make the food as appealing as it tastes. Elegant serving trays and warming plates keep your dishes warm and fresh while you are busy hosting an Iftar gathering. While looking for meals on the go, having a lunch box in Kuwait gives you the perfect opportunity to pack healthy meals for work or travel. Make sure to look for models that go well with your home aesthetics for a festive touch.

#Air Fryer for Healthier Cooking

You cannot have a Ramadan meal without a fried accompaniment. An air fryer allows you to gobble up these traditional delights with minimal oil, giving you the slot for a healthier diet without losing the flavor of your favorite dishes. Purchase an air fryer with multiple cooking settings for cooking versatility.

#Electric Kettle for Quick Hot Beverages

If you love having tea, herbal infusions, or hot milk before suhoor, having an electric kettle gets the job easily done. To swiftly boil the water, make sure to get a kettle with temperature control settings for different beverage needs.

[vellatouxx]

New Recipe, New Chef?

Kazu lay sprawled across the couch, staring blankly at the ceiling of Jun’s apartment. The faint hum of the refrigerator was the only sound breaking the stillness. He sighed, shifting his head to the side, his dark hair falling into his eyes. boredom clung to him like a second skin. Jun, his boyfriend, was stuck in a meeting—something about suppliers for his restaurant, Le Moon's. With no plans and nothing to do, the day stretched out endlessly before him.

Then, a spark flickered in his mind. He sat up slowly, a grin tugging at his lips. Jun’s kitchen. It wasn’t just any kitchen, it was a treasure trove of ingredients, a playground for someone like Kazu who loved to experiment. Jun owned Le Moon's, a cozy little restaurant known for its bold flavors and creative dishes, so his home kitchen was stocked with everything from exotic spices to fresh fruits. Why not mess around and make something new? Something Jun could maybe even put on the menu one day.

Kazu shuffled into the kitchen, tying his hair back with a loose elastic he found on the counter. The space smelled faintly of lemongrass and garlic from whatever Jun had cooked last night. He opened the fridge, scanning the shelves. A pink guava sat nestled between a carton of milk and a jar of pickled radishes. Perfect. Guava juice was sweet, refreshing, familiar. But Kazu wasn’t in the mood for familiar. He wanted something with a kick.

He grabbed the guava, a knife, and a cutting board, then set to work slicing the fruit, its juicy flesh staining his fingers a faint pink. He tossed the pieces into a blender, adding a splash of water to help it along. As the machine whirred, he tapped his foot, thinking. Sugar? No, too predictable. Lime? Maybe. Then his eyes landed on a small jar tucked beside the stove, chili flakes. Jun used them in some of his spicier dishes at Le Moon. Kazu’s grin widened. Why not?

He poured the blended guava juice into a tall glass, the vibrant pink liquid catching the light. Then, with a reckless sort of glee, he sprinkled in a pinch of chili flakes, then another, because Kazu never did anything halfway. He stirred it with a spoon, watching the tiny red flecks swirl into the juice like embers in a sunset. It looked wild. It looked alive.

He took a sip.

The sweetness hit first, bright and tropical, coating his tongue. Then came the heat, a slow burn that crept up the back of his throat, sharp and surprising. His eyes widened. It was strange. It was chaotic. It was… kind of good? He took another sip, letting the flavors wrestle in his mouth. The guava’s softness clashed with the chili’s fire, but somehow, they worked together, like a dance where one partner kept stepping on the other’s toes, but they still moved in rhythm.

Kazu laughed to himself, imagining Jun’s face when he got home. “Babe, I made you a drink,” he’d say, handing over the glass. Jun would probably raise an eyebrow, take a cautious sip, and then either praise him or tease him mercilessly. Maybe both. Either way, Kazu couldn’t wait to find out.

He set the glass down, already plotting his next move. Maybe a dash of salt? Or a squeeze of lime to cut through the heat? The afternoon didn’t seem so boring anymore. With Jun’s kitchen at his disposal, Kazu had all the time in the world to play.

The End

[amazingthingsforyou]

Frankz Rechargeable Citrus Juicer, Orange Juicer Squeezer, Mosambi Juicer, Wireless Portable Juicer Blender with USB Charging Electric Fruit Juicer Machine for Travel & Kitchen Purpose (Multicolour)

About this item

✅【 Easy to Use & Clean】: The Frankz citrus juicer is designed for simplicity, with several detachable parts for easy separation and cleaning. The wireless portable juicer includes a brush to assist with cleaning. However, avoid washing the main body; it's recommended to wipe it with a damp cloth, while other parts can be washed by hand.

✅【 Wireless & Portable Design】: The juicer uses USB-C technology for charging, making it perfect for outdoor use. Take this rechargeable citrus juicer on your camping trips and never worry about running out of power. Enjoy delicious juice anytime and anywhere with just one click.

✅【 Compact Design】: This orange juice maker is highly compact and portable, taking up minimal space. Use this citrus juicer at home or bring it to picnics to enjoy nutritious juice anytime.

✅【 Safe to Use】: All parts of the juicer are made of high-quality ABS+AS material, ensuring safety and non-toxicity. Enjoy flavorful juice daily with peace of mind. For best results, cut fruit in half or smaller before juicing to prevent clogging. Use the juicer only after it’s fully charged and avoid using it while charging. Charging time is 1.5-2 hours.

✅【 Free Hands】: Unlike traditional manual juicers, this new model requires no manual pressing. Just press a button to start, freeing your hands and conserving energy.

✅【 High Juice Yield】: With proper operation, the juicer can extract juice almost completely from the fruit, separating the residue perfectly. This travel juicer is suitable for oranges, grapefruits, lemons, apples, tomatoes, kiwis, watermelons, and even pomegranates.

✅【 Usage Tip】: This citrus juicer is portable and should not be plugged in while in use. Before using, fully charge the juicer. A red light indicates the need for charging, and it will change to white once fully charged.

✅【 Important Note】: Before using the citrus juicer, ensure it is fully charged. The red light signifies it needs charging, and it will turn white when fully charged.

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[creativenessidea]

Finding Your Perfect Blend: The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Best Blender

The humble blender: a kitchen workhorse that can whip up everything from silky smoothies to creamy nut butters, and even hot soups. But with so many options on the market, from budget-friendly to top-of-the-line, choosing the right blender can feel like navigating a smoothie gone wrong. Fear not, blending enthusiasts! This guide will equip you with the knowledge to find the perfect machine to match your needs and budget.

Blending Basics: Types of Blenders

Before diving into features, let's explore the two main types of blenders:

Full-size jug blenders: These countertop machines are the most versatile option. They come in various sizes and power levels, and can handle a wide range of blending tasks.

Personal blenders: These compact and portable blenders are ideal for single-serve smoothies and protein shakes. They're often quieter and more affordable than full-size blenders, but may not be suitable for heavy-duty tasks.

Blending Your Needs: Choosing the Right Features

Once you've chosen your blender type, consider these factors to find your perfect match:

Power: Measured in watts, power determines a blender's ability to crush ice and handle tough ingredients. For everyday blending, 700 watts is sufficient, while tougher tasks might require 1000 watts or more.

Capacity: How much do you typically blend? Choose a jug size that accommodates your needs, whether it's single-serve smoothies or family-sized batches of soup.

Speed Settings: Variable speed settings offer control over the blending process. Look for a blender with at least three settings (low, medium, high) for tackling different tasks.

Pre-programmed Settings: Some blenders offer pre-programmed settings for smoothies, ice crushing, and other functions. These can be convenient for one-touch blending.

Ease of Use: Consider factors like intuitive controls, a comfortable handle, and self-cleaning capabilities when evaluating ease of use.

Noise Level: If noise is a concern, look for a blender with a quieter motor.

Budget: Blenders range in price from under $50 to over $500. Determine how much you're willing to spend before you start shopping.

Top Contenders: Blenders for Every Need

Here are some popular blenders across different categories to get you started:

Best Overall: Vitamix 5200 Professional-Grade Blender: This powerhouse tackles everything from smoothies to nut butters with ease. It boasts a powerful motor, durable construction, and a user-friendly interface.

Best Value: Ninja Nutri Bullet Pro 1000: This personal blender is perfect for single-serve smoothies and protein shakes. It's powerful, affordable, and comes with convenient single-serve cups.

Best for Soups: Breville Thermal Pro: This unique blender heats ingredients while blending, allowing you to create hot soups and sauces directly in the jug.

Best for Quiet Blending: Breville Control Grip Immersion Blender: This hand-held blender is a great option for smaller blending tasks and offers quieter operation compared to full-size blenders.

Beyond the Blend: Tips for Blender Bliss

No matter which blender you choose, here are some tips for optimal blending results:

Use the right blade attachment: Some blenders come with different blade attachments for specific tasks.

Start slow and increase speed gradually: This helps prevent ingredients from getting stuck and ensures even blending.

Add liquids first: This creates a vortex that pulls ingredients down towards the blades.

Don't overload the blender: Follow the manufacturer's recommendations for maximum filling capacity.

With the right blender and a little know-how, you'll be a blending pro in no time. So, grab your favorite ingredients, fire up your machine, and get ready to unlock a world of culinary possibilities – all at the press of a button!

[productdisplay]

Juice Master: Revolutionize Your Kitchen with the Latest Juicer Machine Innovations

The fundamental kitchen equipment for any cook are the mixer, juicer, and grinder machines. These three items are considered the holy trinity of culinary convenience. These appliances simplify meal preparation, regardless of experience level, providing a range of features catered to various cooking requirements.

Juicer: Extracting Nature's Essence

Juicers are the epitome of freshness, allowing you to transform an array of fruits and vegetables into refreshing beverages bursting with vitamins and nutrients. From citrus juicers dedicated to squeezing the zesty essence of oranges and lemons to centrifugal and masticating juicers adept at extracting juices from fibrous produce like kale and carrots, the options are as varied as the fruits themselves. A juicer mixer not only facilitates a healthier lifestyle by promoting the consumption of wholesome, homemade juices but also offers a delightful way to experiment with flavors and concoct custom blends.

Mixer: The Maestro of Mixing

Enter the mixer—an appliance revered for its prowess in seamlessly amalgamating ingredients, whipping up fluffy cakes, kneading dough for fresh bread, or blending smooth batters for savory dishes. With multiple speed settings and an assortment of attachments, mixers offer versatility unmatched by manual mixing methods. Stand mixers, hand mixers, and immersion blenders cater to different preferences and culinary requirements, empowering users to achieve precise textures and consistencies with minimal effort. The mixer's ability to effortlessly combine ingredients makes it a cornerstone of any well-equipped kitchen, simplifying the process of creating culinary masterpieces.

Grinder: From Whole to Ground

Completing the trifecta is the grinder, a humble yet indispensable appliance that elevates the culinary experience by transforming whole spices, grains, and legumes into fine powders or pastes. Whether you're grinding spices for aromatic curries, milling grains for homemade flour, or pulverizing nuts for decadent desserts, a grinder expedites the process while preserving the integrity of the ingredients' flavors and aromas. From traditional stone grinders to modern electric grinders equipped with powerful motors, the options cater to a spectrum of preferences, ensuring that every culinary creation starts with freshly ground ingredients.

The Evolution: Juicer Mixer Grinder Combo

Innovations in kitchen technology have led to the emergence of the juicer mixer grinder combo—an all-in-one solution that seamlessly integrates the functionalities of juicing, mixing, and grinding into a single appliance. With compact designs and multifunctional capabilities, these hybrids are ideal for space-conscious kitchens and culinary enthusiasts seeking efficiency without compromising on versatility. Whether you're concocting refreshing beverages, preparing dough for homemade bread, or grinding spices for aromatic curries, a juicer mixer grinder combo simplifies the culinary journey, making it accessible to novices and experts alike.

In conclusion, the mixer, grinder and juicer machine represent the cornerstone of culinary convenience, offering a myriad of functionalities tailored to diverse cooking needs. From extracting nature's essence with a juicer to mastering the art of mixing with a mixer and grinding ingredients to perfection with a grinder, these appliances streamline food preparation, empowering users to unleash their culinary creativity with ease. Whether used individually or as part of an all-in-one combo, these kitchen essentials elevate the cooking experience, transforming ordinary meals into extraordinary culinary creations.

[allmyblogs]

The Culinary Wizardry of Food Processors: A Kitchen Must-Have

In the ever-evolving world of culinary innovation, one kitchen appliance has stood the test of time as an indispensable tool for both professional chefs and home cooks alike—the food processor. This multifunctional marvel has revolutionized the way we approach food preparation, making it faster, more efficient, and incredibly versatile. In this blog post, we'll delve into the world of food processors, exploring their features, benefits, and myriad ways they can elevate your culinary endeavours.

Evolution of the Food Processor

The food processor's journey began in the 1960s when Pierre Verdon, a French catering company salesman, envisioned a machine that could automate labour-intensive kitchen tasks. His collaboration with a commercial blender manufacturer led to the birth of the first commercial food processor, the Robot-Coupe. Over the decades, advancements in technology and design have transformed the food processor from a bulky, professional-grade machine to a sleek and user-friendly kitchen that caters to a wide range of culinary needs.

Features and Functions

Blending and Pureeing: One of the primary functions of a food processor is its ability to blend and puree ingredients with precision. From silky smooth soups to homemade sauces and creamy nut butter, the food processor's sharp blades and powerful motor make quick work of these tasks, eliminating the need for manual effort.

Chopping and Dicing: Say goodbye to tears while chopping onions! Food processors have various blade attachments that can effortlessly chop, dice, and slice vegetables, fruits, and herbs. This saves time and ensures uniformity in your ingredients, leading to consistent results in your recipes.

Grinding and Milling: Transform whole spices into aromatic grounds or grind your coffee beans to perfection—the food processor excels at these tasks, too. It's grinding and milling capabilities make it a versatile appliance for anyone who appreciates the freshest flavours in their dishes.

Kneading Dough: Baking enthusiasts rejoice! Many food processors are equipped with a dough blade that takes the hassle out of kneading and mixing dough. Whether you're making bread, pizza, or pastry dough, the food processor ensures a consistent and well-mixed result every time.

Shredding and Grating: Grate cheese and shred vegetables for salads, or create your coleslaw effortlessly with the shredding and grating attachments of a food processor. This feature is not only time-saving but also provides a level of convenience that home cooks appreciate.

Benefits of Using a Food Processor

Time Efficiency: Time is of the essence in the kitchen, and a food processor is a time-saving wizard. It can perform tasks that would take considerable time and effort manually, allowing you to focus on other aspects of your cooking or enjoy more leisure time.

Consistency in Results: Achieving consistency in chopping, slicing, and dicing is a breeze with a food processor. This enhances the visual appeal of your dishes and ensures an even distribution of flavours.

Versatility: The versatility of a food processor is unmatched. It can handle various ingredients and tasks, from basic chopping to complex dough preparation. This makes it an invaluable tool for both amateur cooks experimenting in the kitchen and seasoned professionals pushing culinary boundaries.

Reduced Physical Strain: A food processor is a game-changer for those with physical limitations or who want to reduce the strain on their hands and wrists. It automates laborious tasks, allowing you to enjoy cooking without the physical toll.

Creative Exploration: The food processor encourages culinary creativity by simplifying intricate tasks. Experiment with new recipes, try different techniques and broaden your culinary horizons—all with the confidence that your food processor has your back.

In kitchen appliances, the food processor reigns supreme as a culinary workhorse. Its evolution from a commercial-grade machine to a user-friendly kitchen companion highlights its adaptability and enduring popularity. With features ranging from blending and chopping to kneading dough and shredding, the food processor is a versatile powerhouse that caters to the needs of both novice cooks and seasoned professionals.

Investing in a high-quality food processor is not just a purchase; it's a step toward unlocking a world of culinary possibilities. As technology continues to advance, we can only imagine the exciting innovations that lie ahead for this indispensable kitchen tool. Embrace the culinary magic of the food processor, and watch as it transforms your kitchen adventures into a seamless and enjoyable experience.

[khiarastores]

Upgrade Your Restaurant Kitchen with Quality Equipment

Running a successful restaurant not only relies on delicious recipes and exceptional service but also on having a well-equipped kitchen. High-quality equipment not only enhances the efficiency of your kitchen but also contributes to the overall dining experience. In this blog, we will explore how you can upgrade your restaurant kitchen with top-notch equipment, focusing on the vibrant market of restaurant supply in Dubai. From state-of-the-art Nespresso coffee makers to durable cast iron cookware, we will guide you through the best kitchen equipment suppliers in the UAE.

Must have restaurant kitchen equipments

A well-equipped kitchen in a restaurant is the backbone of a successful culinary operation, and the careful selection of kitchen equipment is paramount to ensuring efficiency and excellence. Beyond the essential knives, pots, and pans, the inclusion of specialised tools like coffee makers and cast iron cookware adds distinctive dimensions to the culinary landscape.

Coffee makers, ranging from traditional drip brewers to state-of-the-art espresso machines, play a crucial role in enhancing the dining experience by providing a diverse array of coffee options.

Meanwhile, the enduring charm of cast iron cookware, with its even heat distribution and retention capabilities, transforms ordinary dishes into extraordinary creations, whether through slow-cooked stews or perfectly seared steaks.

Complementing these staples are a plethora of other indispensable tools, ranging from mixers and blenders for sauces and beverages to high-capacity ovens and grills that enable chefs to execute their culinary visions with precision.

In the intricate dance of kitchen equipment, the synergy of coffee makers, cast iron cookware, and their fellow culinary companions lays the foundation for a restaurant's success, enriching both the cooking process and the ultimate enjoyment of the dining experience.

Exploring Nespresso Coffee Makers:

A perfect cup of coffee can elevate the dining experience for your customers. Nespresso coffee makers are renowned for their exceptional quality and consistency. These machines are equipped with advanced technology, allowing your staff to brew a variety of coffee styles effortlessly. In Dubai, Khiara stores offer a wide range of Nespresso coffee makers, enabling you to choose the one that suits your restaurant's needs.

The Nespresso Gran Latissimi F531 Coffee Machine, for instance, is a perfect buy for its amazing features.

3 Coffee Selections: Perfect Cup of Ristretto, Espresso And Lungo.

6 Coffee & Milk Recipes: Create a Cappuccino, Latte Macchiato, Flat White, Caffè Latte, Hot Milk and Hot Foam.

One Touch Milk System: An Innovative Milk System With All Your Coffee & Milk Recipes available at the touch of a button

Easy Cleaning: Easy Rinsing System After Milk Beverage Preparation (Water And Steam Come Through The Pipe) - Dishwasher Safe Milk Jug

Descaling Alert: The Descaling Alert Ensures A Proper Functioning Of The Machine And A Perfect Coffee Experience Time After Time.

The Versatility of Cast Iron Cookware:

Cast iron cookware has been a favourite among chefs for centuries due to its durability and versatility. From searing steaks to baking mouthwatering desserts, cast iron pans and pots can handle it all. Khiara Stores Dubai offers an array of cast iron cookware options, ensuring you find the perfect pieces for your kitchen. The cast iron cookware by Kitchen Master is a must have because of its optimised features.

These cast iron skillets have a smooth finish to help provide even heat distribution for improved cooking and frying, even on grills, stoves, or induction cooktops.

The skillets come pre seasoned but we recommend you season them before each use to maintain their non stick properties. Cast iron cookware should be hand washed with warm water and restored with natural oils, which means no soap or dishwasher use.

You can use this premium, pre-seasoned cast iron cookware over any heating source effortlessly! Since it evenly distributes heat, it can be used to sear, fry, sauté, grill, roast, bake, braise, and broil.

Why Quality Equipment Matters:

Investing in quality kitchen equipment is essential for various reasons. Reliable appliances and tools increase productivity, ensure food safety, and maintain consistency in your culinary creations. Additionally, they can save energy and reduce operational costs in the long run. When it comes to restaurant supply in Dubai, there are numerous options available catering to different budgets and requirements.

Kitchen Equipment Suppliers in the UAE

Khiara Stores stands out as the premier destination for restaurant owners in the UAE seeking top-quality kitchen equipment. Renowned as one of the best kitchen equipment suppliers in the UAE, they offer an extensive range of high-grade kitchen appliances and tools tailored to meet the unique demands of restaurants.

 With a reputation built on reliability and excellence, they provide restaurant owners with state-of-the-art equipment, ensuring efficiency and precision in culinary endeavours. Their diverse selection includes everything from commercial stoves and ovens to cutting-edge food processors, all sourced from trusted brands and crafted with the latest technology.

By consistently delivering superior products and unmatched customer service, Khiara Stores has become the go-to choice for restaurant professionals, setting the standard for kitchen equipment suppliers in the UAE.

Tips for Choosing the Right Equipment

Assess Your Needs: Determine the specific requirements of your kitchen, considering the type of cuisine you serve and the volume of customers you handle daily.

Quality and Durability: Opt for equipment made from high-quality materials to ensure longevity and reliable performance.

Energy Efficiency: Choose energy-efficient appliances to reduce operational costs and contribute to environmental conservation.

Warranty and Support: Select equipment with comprehensive warranties and reliable customer support to address any issues promptly.

Budget Consideration: While quality is essential, consider your budget constraints and explore options that offer the best value for your investment.

Conclusion

Upgrading your restaurant kitchen with quality equipment is a strategic investment that enhances your culinary offerings and customer satisfaction. Khiara Stores, for restaurant supply in Dubai, featuring renowned brands like Nespresso and versatile options like cast iron cookware, provides ample opportunities to elevate your kitchen standards.

By choosing the right kitchen equipment suppliers in the UAE and following the tips mentioned, you can transform your restaurant kitchen into a hub of efficiency, creativity, and delectable cuisine, ensuring a memorable dining experience for your patrons.

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Top 3 Best Food Processor in India

Food processors are perhaps one of the best additions to your home and kitchen. These are good investments to ensure that you have ‘multiple’ helping hands when it comes to getting a task done. This appliance has been designed to help reduce your kitchen hours easily. Now, you can enjoy homemade shakes, puree, batter, and more in minutes with the help of these best picks in the category. These are some of the best recommendations for the top food processor in India:

1- KitchenAid KFC3516ER 3.5 Cup Mini Food Processor

KitchenAid brings you a mini food processor which is powerful enough to meet your daily kitchen requirements. It comprises a food chopper, extra blades, a lid, and a work bowl. This machine offers a 240-watt function for the best results. The product is famous for its compact design and easy maintenance as well. It is considered one of the best food processors in India.

2- Preethi Zion MG-227 mixer grinder 750 watt Black, 4 jars - master chef food processor jar and flexi lid, Vega W5 motor with 2yr Guarantee & Lifelong Free Service, Standard

This food processor is one of the best products within the budget price range. It is powered by a 750-watt function and comprises four jars for best in benefits. One can get atta kneading done or spice grinding in this food processor. There is also a safety indicator, hence you need not worry when working with it.

3- Inalsa Food Processor Professional with Mixer Grinder INOX 1000 Plus, Copper Motor 1000 Watts, Precise Electronic 25 Speeds Knob,14 Function,3 Pre-set Buttons, Food Grade Blender Jar,304 SS Grade 2 Jars.

This is a powerful food processor that offers a 1000-watt function. Also, it works as a kneader, slicer, emulsifier, chopper, and grinder. Other than that, it also has pulse mode, ice blending mode, and other automatic modes for optimum results. It has all the functions expected from one of the best food processors in the world.

CONCLUSION

So, there you have it friends, these are some of the top picks when it comes to some of the best food processors to choose from. However, it has been advised by the experts that the users ensure that they take a thorough check of the warranty, added services, and other such details for a good overall experience for years to come.