#best pancake electric griddle

[bestpickme]

5 Best Electric Skillet on Sale 2023

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

part two here

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

I don't think pancakes are gonna fix this. I need ice cream too, for the band/whoever you want!

okay full disclosure, i'm a little bit terrified to post this. I've never done this ship before 🙈 or this trope/plot device... but. due to the typical people at fault for the fics that enter my brain... (*ahem* @narcissusbrokenmirror and unnamed party who DOESN'T DO TUMBLR) it exists. and meant I finally had something to write that fit this prompt! (and there's a little treat in here for you) I hope someone likes it 😅 a part II is also planned. just... later.

“Heeeeeey Lukey, you’re up early,” Reggie exclaims from in front of his electric griddle. He’s been busy making pancakes for their weekly band brunch. “Where’ve you been?”

Luke stares, unseeing, as he moves through the motions of removing his shoes by the door. He’d just gotten back home after running out unexpectedly a few hours earlier. Only Willie had been awake early enough to see him off.

“Luke?” Reggie calls back out from the kitchen.

Luke doesn’t answer. He just rounds the doorway into Reggie’s sightline. 

Reggie looks up from pouring the next batch of pancakes, almost dropping the bowl when he catches sight of Luke’s face. It’s very nearly expressionless and entirely unlike Luke.

He recovers quickly and sets the bowl  gently on the counter before bounding over to Luke. 

“Luke? Buddy?” Reggie asks, trying to catch Luke’s gaze. “What happened?”

Luke opens and closes his mouth, trying to speak but can’t manage to make sound.

“Alex! Willie?” Reggie calls desperately, raising his voice loudly enough to ensure they hear him.

They both appear almost instantly.

“What’s-” Alex starts to ask before catching sight of Luke and cutting himself off. 

“Something’s wrong,” Reggie cries, panic edging into his voice. 

Alex runs a hand through his hair as he gulps in a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Let’s…” he looks around the kitchen and then back out to the living room. “Let’s get him sitting down somewhere.” 

Alex and Reggie each grab one of Luke’s arms and try to steer him toward the couch. 

Reggie suddenly drops the arm he’d been holding and turns back toward the kitchen. “Shit! The-”

“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” Willie assures him, picking up the flipper. They gesture back toward Luke. “You take care of Luke, I’ll finish these.”

Reggie sends them a small grateful smile and grabs back hold of Luke. He helps Alex guide Luke to the couch where they gently set him down.

Reggie kneels in front of Luke, trying again to catch his gaze. When he fails, he sets a hand on each of Luke’s knees. The contact seems to jolt Luke back to reality, at least slightly. 

Alex sits next to him on the sofa. Luke leans into his side and Alex wraps an arm around Luke’s shoulders.

“I got you. We’ve got you. You’re okay,” Alex murmurs softly. 

Luke’s eyes go glassy as he settles back into the present, soaking in the comforting presence of his best friends. 

Reggie decides to try again. “What’s going on?”

Luke raises his eyes to meet Reggie’s. “Carrie’s pregnant.”

Reggie jumps back in surprise while Alex’s brow furrows. 

“Carrie… Like Carrie Wilson,” Alex confirms. 

Luke nods. 

“Why…? Luke…” Alex pulls back slightly and turns so he can face Luke. “Luke, why would that affect you?”

Luke looks up at Alex with sad eyes. 

Reggie’s eyes widen in understanding. “Luke! When? Carrie?! How?” he stammers through his shock.

Luke takes a deep breath and pulls himself fully away from Alex. He clasps his hands together and stares at them to  avoid looking at Alex or Reggie. “The night of  the Billboards,” he explains.

“You and Carrie?” Reggie asks again, disbelief still present in his voice.

Luke nods. 

“How? I mean. It’s Carrie. And you. I just…”

“I know. It just… happened.”

“And you never told us?” Alex chimes in, betrayed.

Luke shakes his head. 

“Okay. Don’t think we won’t be revisiting that later. But. Is she okay? Does she know what she wants to do? Do you know what you want her to do?”

Another shake of Luke’s head. He collapses back into Alex. 

Reggie climbs up to wrap his arms around both of them. “You know we’ve got you, right? No matter what,” he murmurs.

Luke nods into Alex’s chest. 

Reggie’s thighs start burning from how he’s perched for their little huddle. He’s just about to pull away when they hear the apartment door open and close. 

“Julie,” Reggie whispers. As always, she’s perfectly on time for brunch.

The three of them pull apart. “Do you want her to know?” Alex asks sincerely.

Luke’s mouth opens in an attempt to answer but his efforts are stalled as they hear Willie call out from the kitchen, very obviously warning them of Julie’s arrival. “They’re in the living room.”

The guys don’t speak as they watch the doorway for Julie. 

Julie enters the room and immediately stops. She takes in their state and her face scrunches up in concern.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, slow and wary. 

Alex and Reggie both turn to Luke, waiting to follow his lead. He looks up at Reggie with wide, pleading eyes. 

Reggie furrows his brow in silent question. At Luke’s slight nod, he turns back to Julie. “Carrie’s pregnant,” he tells her, rushing through the pair of words as if it’ll make it easier to say. And hear.

“Okaaaaay,” she counters slowly. 

“It’s Luke’s,” he adds just as quickly. 

Julie turns wide, disbelieving eyes on Luke. “Really?”

He nods. 

“Shit.”

They stare at each other in silence for a moment before she breaks it. “Are you okay?”

Luke’s eyes fill with tears and he shakes his head. 

Julie walks over to the couch and shoves Luke and Alex over to make room. She wedges herself between Luke and the arm of the sofa.  Julie takes Luke’s hand and gently strokes the back of it with her thumb. “Tell me about it?” she offers.

“There’s nothing to tell, really. We were both pissed at how the Billboards went, hooked up, never spoke about it again. Until…”

“Yeah,” Julie softly responds, saving him from having to finish the sentence. 

“There’s a uh… lot of details missing there, Luke,” Reggie chimes in. 

Alex swats Reggie’s shoulder with the back of his hand. 

Reggie rubs his shoulder and glares at Alex. “That are totally none of our business,” he adds hastily.

“It was so… stupid!” Luke exclaims. He pulls his hand back from Julie. He scrubs at his face before running his hands up into his hair. He leans over to rest his elbows on his knees, supporting his face in his hands.

“Hey,” Julie counters gently, pulling his hands away from his head. “Hey, I think we all did some pretty stupid shit that night.”

“We did?!” Reggie squeaks.

“We did,” Julie confirms. She averts her gaze but the blush rising up her face is unmistakable. 

Reggie narrows his eyes at her. “What stupid shit did Julie do?”

“We’re not talking about me right now.”

“Hm. Well, maybe knowing Julie’s stupid shit will make Luke feel better,” Reggie counters, looking pointedly at Luke. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Julie says, drawing out the ‘yeah’ to make her doubt clear.

Luke lifts his gaze up, trying to catch hers. He narrows his eyes. “What did you do, Julie?”

“I… really don’t think you want to know. Forget I said anything.”

Luke cocks his head and looks at her sideways. “You know that’s not gonna happen.”

Julie stands. She turns toward them and then back away, uncertainty lacing every movement. 

“Julie?” Alex tries. “Jules, it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not that bad if I keep it to myself,” she murmurs.

Luke lets out a good-humoured scoff, “It’s not like you hooked up with Bobby or something.”

Julie stops in her tracks. Her eyes widen and she gapes at them. 

Luke’s expression shifts to mimic hers. “You hooked up with Bobby?!” He exclaims, disbelieving and angry.

Alex sets a calming hand on Luke’s knee. Luke brushes it off. 

Alex quickly glares at Luke before redirecting his attention to Julie, “Okay well, you’re not pregnant too, right?”

“No!” Julie assures them. “I mean, probably. I don’t think so… No. No, I can’t be. I’m not.”

“Are you and Bobby like… together?” Luke asks slowly. 

Julie shakes her head. “No. No, it was just… We got lost in the chaos of everything that night. I swear. It only happened the once,” she pauses to consider before continuing, “Well, the one night.”

Luke’s face twists up in disgust, “Ew. Gross. I do not want to know. You’re right. I don’t feel better.” He groans. “But at least I didn’t hook up with… him.” Luke’s expression contorts into a final  grimace.

Alex sighs, “Okay, can we get back to the issue at hand?”

“Pancakes?” Reggie exclaims hopefully. 

“No, Reggie. Not pancakes.”

“Pancakes fix everything,” Reggie mumbles. “Sue me for trying to help. Though… they’re probably cold by now…”

“I don't think pancakes are gonna fix this… We need ice cream too,” Luke murmurs. 

Reggie jumps up and bounds toward the kitchen. “Willie! Willie, we need to dig out the ice cream to have with our pancakes! It’s an emergency. What kinds do we have?” He trips over his feet in his enthusiasm, just barely managing to recover before face planting on the floor. 

Alex, Luke, and Julie shake their heads fondly as they watch him leave. 

Julie turns back around to Luke. She crouches in front of him and takes his hands. “We good?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Let’s just… never talk about it again please?”

Julie nods her agreement. “You bet. Are you going to be okay?”

“No, but we’ll figure it out. We always do, right?”

Julie smiles up at him. “Right.”

“And we’re all here with and for you,” Alex confirms. He puts his hand on Luke’s back. “All of it. No matter what.”

Luke directs a sad smile at Alex. “Thanks, man.”

Alex nods once in acknowledgement. “Should we go see what kind of mess those two have managed to create in the last three minutes?”

Luke and Julie cough out matching laughs. Julie stands, pulling Luke up with her. She squeezes his hands twice before letting one go and pulling him toward the kitchen.

[uniwolfcorn]

Buttermilk

(It's been a while since I've posted anything fic related, so I hope y'all enjoy this one! And thanks to @jacksonstarkiller for helping me piece this together <3🧡💛❤️💚💙)

—————————————————

It was another Saturday morning.

Jefferson woke up early & snuck down to the kitchen. He flicked on the lights & fired up the griddle. Oh the sweet scents that would dance in the air, the sizzle of the griddle, the patter of the boys' feet rushing down the stairs, & the bright, brilliant beams across their little faces as they were served the delicious delicacy.

The laughter of the boys & Lucy still rang in his mind.

It was... perfect.

—————————————————

Jefferson had been back home for a few weeks now, but it felt like a few minutes.

One moment, they were little children; - then the next, they weren't children anymore.

Alan had an accident recently. He had been put into a medical coma. The doctors said he would be laid up for a while - a few months at best.

Jefferson was in a morning rush & was running a bit behind. He was expecting a group of Tracys, already on bedside duty. But when he arrived at Alan's room, no one else was there. Perhaps he left earlier than he thought. Seems like he was always losing tracks of time.

The family had been leaving gifts of recovery for the baby of their pack. Jefferson observed the various trinkets.

A mini rocket model from Scott, astronomy books from John, hand-crafted cards by Virgil, starfish stuffies from Gordon, fresh roses from Penelope, a chaperone cap from Parker, a holographic star projector built by Mike & Brains, his favorite socks & blanket from Grandma, even some balloons blown by MAX.

Jefferson sighed as he rubbed his boy's hand. He had to catch himself from flinching whenever his thumb rolled over the IV needle.

What could he give?

Once he arrived home, he entered the kitchen. His shoes squeaked from the glossy flooring - he remembered how the floor once creaked with wood. But surely, baking pancakes wouldn't be so bad.

Right?

"Uh boys," echoed through the kitchen as he was searching through the cabinets. "Where's the griddle?"

"We, um..." Scott replied with a clear wince of regret. "We got rid of it when you left..."

A comforting hand lay on his shoulder with a gentle squeeze.

"Son, it's okay." They shared a soft embrace.

"You at least wrote down your recipe somewhere, right?"

You could just hear a glass shattering as Jefferson's eyes shot open.

Turns out that being lost in space for 8 years had made his cooking skills a bit... rusty.

The pan's too hot, too cold; not enough oil - too much oil; the batter's too thin, too thick; use the first pancake, too many of them at once!

Every single attempt to recreate the fluffy buttery goodness only resulted in sticky, crumbly, & sometimes scorched messes. Week after week was met with failure.

On one particular morning, things seemed to finally piece together.

"Hey, dad. How's it going?" Virgil's hologram hovered over his father's shoulder.

"So far, so good!" He listed with admittedly an amusing beam of pride. "I pre-heated the pan, I didn't over-mix the batter, I didn't use a spoon or an electric mixer, I used the right amount of ingredients & the right ingredients, & I set the stove on medium - high."

"That's great, dad. But..."

Virgil noticed one, little, little problem.

"You did grease the pan, right?"

"..."

"SHIET!"

"Wait wait wait dad, don't do -"

He frantically scrapped at the pan - rolling lumps & scraps of pancakes. Smoke bellowed & nearly triggered the alarm. Brittle & burnt bundles of burnt batter & bread went flying into the trash. The pan clattered in the sink as steam sizzles from the rushing water.

"That."

Tears rolled down his face.

"Dad?"

The only answer was a shaky sigh. He tossed down his apron, sulked away to his room, and shut the door.

There was a soft knock.

"Jefferson?" Sally entered.

He was curled up into a ball of regret. His knees were tucked in tight, & his hands covered his soaked face.

"Honey, it's just a couple of mistakes."

"It feels like that's the only thing I've been making."

"Jefferson -"

"Who was the one that left them for 8 years? Who was the one that couldn't keep them safe from the Hood? Who was the person who flew in that blizzard? Who was the person who couldn't save her? I am. It was all my fault."

There was a stilted silence.

"I just want this to be perfect."

"Son, remember when Scotty made his first cake for Father's Day? He dropped it on the ground & made a huge mess. He cried his little eyes out & thought he ruined Father's Day. But do you remember what you told him?"

"Son, it's okay. Sometimes this stuff happens and nothing is ever perfect in life. But you didn't ruin anything for me, because I know that you're doing the best you can."

"There was a reason why Lucy married you. She didn't see you as someone who needed to be fixed. But as someone who loved her & would be the best person for not just her, not just for the boys, but for himself."

Sally gripped his shoulder with a strong but gentle & firm hold.

"Alan doesn't care if it's perfect. He'll love it because it's from you."

"Maybe... maybe you're right."

"Kiddo, I'm always right." They shared laughter & a warm embrace.

"Thanks, mom."

"No problem. Get some rest, dear."

Night had fallen. Everyone had gone to bed, except Jefferson. The island was in a set of melancholy calm, but his mind was still whirling. He tried to fight against his workaholic-engined brain; he tossed & turned in bed, but his efforts of rest weren't working. He stared at his ceiling in fatigued defeat.

Another memory wandered into his mind.

He remembered that Lucy had a knack for photography. She was always behind the camera, capturing every precious little moment to treasure forever.

Maybe she could help.

He dug under his bed through various boxes & other little nick-nacks. Soon, he found his treasure. Within a large crate laid a trove of photo albums & frames; what lay in the center was an old camera.

He dawned his apron & began to cook again.

—————————————————

The next morning, Jefferson returned to the hospital. He delicately carried a gift box in his hands. He asked the front desk if he could see Alan. The receptionist thoroughly checked the contents. Jefferson got a few passing eyebrows, but was allowed to visit nonetheless.

He strolled down the hall, his heart was racing in his chest. The next door was his son's room. There was a hint of hesitation, but the words of his mother ringed in his mind.

He took a deep breath, & entered inside.

"Alan?" His voice was an audible whisper.

The said blonde stirred from his slumber, as his little eyes fluttered open.

"Hey, dad."

"How are you feeling, Sprout?"

"Still feeling sucky, but a little less sucky today." His gaze gradually rolled to the box in his father's hands. "Is that for me?"

"Just for you, Sprout."

Jefferson carefully perched the gift in his son's arms. Alan opened the lid & peered inside.

Pancakes; slightly crude in shape - definitely were supposed to be stars. Burnt browns & blacks rigidly lined the crust.

Alan took a meek little nibble.

Immediately his taste-buds were overwhelmed with flavors of crude variety & the ashy texture of the scorched crust didn't quite help either.

"Tastes... great..." He sheepishly squeaked with a thumbs-up.

"They can't taste that bad."

The clear gag makes him regret that statement.

"It tastes like burnt cardboard!"

"More like burnt rubber that was run over by the Mole."

The hospital had never heard more humble laughter than now.

[kelyon]

Live Wire 4: Living Together

Belle is a ghost haunting the electricity in Gold's house.

Belle and Gold share a life together

Read on AO3

Being a ghost was so much better when someone knew you were alive. For the first time in decades, Belle’s existence had meaning again. Gold and Bae lived in her house and Gold knew about her! She knew their names because he had told her! Gold had understood that the flashing lights and unusually active electronics meant that something was there. He had seen her reaching out--the first person in over a hundred years who had noticed her. He had made an effort to communicate with her. He had called her by her name! 

For so long, Belle had been lonely, lonelier than a living person ever could be. She’d watched a family live their lives--grow up and grow old around her--and none of them had ever known she was there. But Gold knew. He had figured it out. Until the end of time, or whenever she stopped existing, Belle would be grateful to him. Him acknowledging her gave her a purpose. Now, all she wanted to do was help her Gold and his son. 

****

It was difficult at first. Electronics had changed since the days of the family. Bae and Gold both spent most of their time staring at devices. Not only the television and Bae’s video games, but portable computing machines and strange, flat telephones that apparently served as windows to the entire world. A world that she was still locked out of. Belle’s abilities were connected to the house, to the wires and outlets in the walls where she’d died. These new marvels only had to be plugged into the wall some of the time--usually when they weren’t being used. There was no way for her to enter a battery and spend the day in Gold’s pocket. 

Often, Bae forgot to set the alarm on his cell phone. Belle could only make it ring if he had plugged it in to charge--which he didn’t always do. When this happened, she would try to wake him up some other way, by flashing the lights or turning the filter on his aquarium on and off. Sometimes he would sleep through those, which meant Gold would have to walk up three flights of stairs on his bad leg just to tell his son that breakfast was ready. 

This infuriated Belle. There was nothing worse than having no effect on circumstances around her. It defeated the whole purpose of existing! These occasions were when she truly felt like a ghost--unable to do anything but watch people she loved suffer.

Quickly, Gold learned Belle’s limitations, and even more quickly understood how much she hated them. To accommodate her, he brought a pair of clock radios from his pawn shop into his and Bae’s bedrooms. Gold told Bae that it would be better to keep their phones downstairs, to limit screen time for both of them. Bae complained, but eventually conceded that the clocks were “retro,” which was apparently satisfactory.

Now Belle could wake them up in the mornings without any problems. She tuned the radios to music they would like, woke them in ways that suited them best. Gold liked classical music played at a slowly-increasing volume. He could ease into a morning like a sunrise. Bae, on the other hand, would sleep through anything less subtle than a Klaxon Company automobile horn. Over time, Belle found that if she blasted classic rock and roll music at a high enough volume, Bae would be out of bed and halfway through brushing his teeth before he’d even opened his eyes. She made his bedroom lights a little dim on dark Maine mornings, so it would be easier for the boy to blink himself awake.

Belle loved the hustle and bustle of their morning routines, especially in the kitchen. She was there in the grinder for Gold’s coffee beans, and heating up the coffee itself. Bae’s Pop-Tarts never burned and were never too hot in the middle. If they made oatmeal on the stove, Belle balanced the heating element to make sure the milk never scalded the pot. On weekends, Gold would fry bacon and eggs or pancakes on the electric griddle, squeeze oranges in an electric juicer. Everything came out perfect. Belle made sure of that. 

These were, mostly, the same services she used to do for the family. The appliances were more advanced, but she figured them out. It was nice to have a challenge again, something to occupy her mind. 

Gold made all the difference. He didn’t talk to her in front of his son, but he let her know he knew she was there. He would mutter words of thanks under his breath, knowing she was always listening. The way he touched his appliances was almost a caress, and she was sure he only did it because of her. He would wipe the machines down after each use, keeping them clean on the outside, while Belle maintained them on the inside.      

He never officially told Bae that Belle existed. He did speak openly about the “spiritual essence” of the house and how “benevolent forces” were watching over them. Bae seemed to take such statements in stride, believing Gold as much as any teen-ager believed anything their parents said. 

Belle didn’t blame the boy for not believing in ghosts. Nor did she blame Gold for being cagey about her existence. Even with proof, the idea that the soul of a woman from a hundred years ago was haunting the electricity of one’s house was a lot to ask someone to accept. She had hardly believed it when Gold had first spoken her name.

Sometimes she still couldn’t believe he had kept talking to her once she had made her presence known. 

****

Through a lengthy process of trial and error, they developed a way of communicating together. At first, everything had been very one-way. Gold would speak and Belle would flash the lights to answer yes or no questions. Attempts to utilize Mr. Morse’s telegraph code ended up being too cumbersome for a regular conversation. Gold would lose count of the dashes and dots, or Belle would be so excited to say something she would hurry through her flickers. She’d make a long blink of the lights too short and a short blink barely visible at all. Gold would get confused and they’d have to start all over again. 

The breakthrough came when Gold brought home a magnetic tape recorder. He kept it in the office he shared with Bae, telling his son that he was recording a daily journal. That was just a cover. The real purpose of the tape recorder was something he could pretend to be talking into, while he was giving Belle a long monologue of his thoughts.

He told her about his day, about Storybrooke and the world outside the house, the daily hassles and minor celebrations of a small town. He told her about history, what had changed since she had been alive. He told her about himself. About Bae. About the wife he was now divorced from and the journey of self-actualization he had undertaken that had led him to where he was now. 

Belle took in every word. She hadn’t realized how ravenous she was for new information--for stories as well as facts. Gold had so much to speak about, including things he had never told anyone before. 

If only she could reciprocate! Belle had as much to tell Gold as he had to tell her. She wanted to give him knowledge from her time, little details that didn’t get written about in history books. She would tell him more about the house, of the family that had lived their lives here. She would tell him of herself--all the thoughts and feelings, joys and sorrows, that she had never been able to express to a living soul.

She would tell him how much it meant to her that he treated her like a person.

****

For a few weeks, Gold made his “recordings” at night, after Bae had gone to sleep. One night, the boy suffered from a bout of biliousness and sought his father out. Gold directed his son to the stomach medications, then sent him back to bed. On his way out of the office, Bae had pointed out that the plug for the tape recorder was dangling from the table, well away from the outlet. To save face, Gold hastily plugged in the cord, then went to bed himself.

Leaving Belle alone with a tape recorder that was--for the first time--connected to her. 

She settled in, exploring the machine as she did every new device. She manipulated the buttons, made the spools of tape spin around at varying speeds, played back the ancient recording that was on the tape. She even went into the microphone Gold spoke into. For a lark, Belle swooped around the wiring, finding it particularly sensitive to vibrations. She jumped back and forth along a thin ribbon of metal between two magnets.

She did this for a while, until the tape ran out and the Record button snapped back into place. The sudden change got her attention. Had that button been pushed down the whole time? Had she been recording something?

Carefully, Belle rotated the spindles that were in the center of the circular reels of tape. That wound the tape backwards from one spool to the other, so it was starting at the beginning again. From inside the machine, she pushed down the button marked Play. 

She tried not to get her hopes up that the recorder had actually captured any sound. She was merely experimenting. She just had to make sure that her hypothesis was correct. Besides, what else did she have to do with her time?

For forty-five minutes, Belle listened to the crackles and whirs of the recorder playing back the silence of an empty room. Then, towards the end, there came a barrage of strange sounds of varying pitch. It was so loud, Belle had to turn down the volume for fear of waking up Gold or Bae. As she listened more, she understood what she was hearing. 

If she breathed, her breath would have stopped.

Belle was hearing the effects of her presence in the microphone. Playing back and forth with the ribbon of wire, doing that had made noise.  

Noise.

It wasn’t sound yet. 

But it was a start. 

****

She spent the rest of the night refining her understanding of the microphone. She recorded her efforts, rewound the tape again and again, and listened to the results. Through this process, the noises turned into sounds. Then the sounds became a voice. 

Her voice.

For the first time in over a hundred years, Belle heard her own voice.

“Hello?”

Her voice sounded on the edge of tears--though she had no eyes to cry with, no throat to close up with emotion. 

“Gold? Gold, I’m aware of the incomprehensibility of these circumstances, but you have my absolute assurance of reality. This is me.” The voice from the recorder was almost sobbing. “This is Belle French, speaking to you.”

Her words began to speed up, as the gravity of the situation lifted and all that was left was the euphoria.

“As I speak, it is twenty-seven minutes past four in the morning. There is nothing in the world I want more than to wake you this minute and bring you into your office to hear me. I--I’m so… overcome, to share this news with you. To share myself with you.” She gave out a chuckle, a breath that she didn’t have. “I hope you can appreciate the twofold blessing of this event: That at last I have the ability to speak to you, and that I can share this accomplishment with you. There is the joyous discovery itself, and then the… the communion of joy, I suppose would be the way to put it, though that has a ring of religiosity that may not be appropriate given my supernatural circumstances. I never gave much credence to spiritualism, but…”

She babbled on until the tape ran out. It was tempting to rewind the reels and record over her first message in the hopes that now she might be more coherent, but there was such sincerity in her first attempt. Belle had no desire to deny the depth of feeling that had gripped her at the first thought of sharing her voice with another person.

And the thought of sharing her voice with Gold, specifically. 

Nervous and excited, Belle burned off a little power by zooming through the house and revving up every device one by one. From outside Bae’s room in the attic, down to the basement chest freezer, she gave a boost to everything she touched. 

It wasn’t enough. Her happiness burned so brightly, there was no bulb that could contain it. She could power a spotlight, a searchlight, she could rival the sun.

She couldn’t wait anymore. It was close enough to Gold’s regular alarm time. Waking him now wouldn’t spoil his day.

Belle burst into the radio at full volume, turned on every light in his bedroom at once. Gold groaned and cursed and covered his eyes. At least he had been aware of her for long enough to instantly understand that she was trying to get his attention. 

“What?” he croaked. His voice was always rough and deep when he first woke up. “What is it, Belle?”

She blinked the lights in a path leading to his bathroom, signaling that she wanted him to get up and get ready.

Still in bed, Gold looked at the clock. “It’s early.” He complained as badly as Bae did. “What are you trying to tell me?”

Belle retraced the pattern of light bulbs leading from Gold’s bed to the bathroom--one by one, deliberately, to signal that she was being very patient and repeating herself for his benefit. 

Groggily, infuriatingly slowly, Gold got out of bed and began to dress. 

Over the years, Belle had made a habit of turning away from her inhabitants during private moments. Curious as she might be about Gold’s body, she was no peeping tom. Today, however, she was sorely tempted to make an exception--just to make sure he hadn’t gone back to sleep. 

Finally, Gold  appeared in front of his bedroom, fully appareled in one of his modern suits. Belle lit a path of lights down the hall to his office. She had to blink the desk lamp several times before he understood that she wanted him to sit down. By no means could she begin the recording while he was still standing.

As soon as her voice came out of the speaker, Gold’s lingering irritation melted away. The hard lines of his face went soft, and he put his hand over his mouth. His other hand shook as he reached to stop the tape.

“Belle?” he whispered. He directed his question to the tape recorder. There were tears in his eyes. “Belle is that really you?”

She started to blink the lamp, then thought of something better. She re-wound the tape, and went into the microphone. It only took her a second to record her answer, then she pressed Play.

“Yes, Gold. It’s really me.”

****

After that, everything changed. Gold found more recording devices and placed them all around the house. The kitchen, the living room, his bedroom--anywhere where they might want to talk to each other. He even acquired a portable ‘boom box’ that he could plug into an outlet on the front porch.  Bae was out of the house more often nowadays, spending time with his friends or at extracurricular activities. More evenings than not, the two of them were alone together.

“If it weren’t for you, I might lose myself in work again,” Gold told her one evening. He was alone in the dining room, savoring the supper he had made for himself. “I’m so glad I have you.” 

Belle knew what he was going to say, so she had her recorded answer ready: “I’m glad I have you, too.”

Now that they could really talk to each other, the closeness that had begun to grow between them blossomed into a deeper intimacy. Belle could ask questions of her Gold, she could offer her opinions. Gold would invite people from town into the house for dinner or a party, and then spend the rest of the night talking to Belle about them. When Bae’s friends and girl-friends came over, she would tell Gold who she thought was a good influence on him. He wanted to know what she thought, about everything that happened and everyone she met.

“I always wanted a man who would listen to me,” Belle told him once. “Back when I thought marriage was inevitable. There weren’t many men who would, in my day.”

Gold was in the process of taking off his shoes and putting his feet up at the end of a long day. The cold of a Maine winter played hell on his bad ankle, so he plugged in a heating pad and propped up his leg before he went to bed. Belle touched him through the insulated wires, rubbing and warming him, easing his pain. 

“I’ve always thought of love as being a home,” he sighed. “When you love someone, you should feel comfortable, and safe--” A yawn broke through his sentence. “--and warm.”

Belle couldn’t devote her attention to the heating pad and the tape recorder at the same time. It took her a moment to make a reply:

“You almost sound like you’re saying you love me.”

Gold smiled. That soft, sweet, almost-silly smile that he only wore when they were alone together. “I think I do, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Yes, Belle, I’m sure of it. I love you.”

****

The power surge blew every fuse in the house’s breaker box. Once Gold replaced them all and the electricity was restored, Belle was able to tell him that she loved him too.

****

Now that they had declared their love, Belle no longer felt compelled to look away when Gold dressed or bathed. Instead, she drank in the sight of him--though he was always a little embarrassed to be seen naked under  full lights. She told him how handsome she thought he was, the little details she found charming, how curious she was about the male body. Man of the world though he was, it made him blush to hear such sentiments played on a recording at full volume. 

It was much more comfortable for Gold when he could lay on his bed underneath an electric blanket. Darkness and closeness were more what he was used to in lovemaking. Through heated wires, Belle felt the shape of his form--the width of his shoulders, the grip of his large hands, the bulge of his sex. 

Both of them hesitated for her to get too close to his flesh. He said that there were ways--that there was equipment he could purchase for ‘electronic stimulation.’ Apparently some people sought out the sensation and accepted any potential risks. Belle said it wasn’t necessary. She couldn’t bear the possibility of hurting her Gold. And who could say if she’d be able to control herself in the midst of an erotic frenzy?

Safer by far to stick with the blanket. If he drew it up over his face, she could trace the shape of his lips, press into him like a kiss. Without any risk of injury, she could seek out all the parts of him that were sensitive. His nipples, his throat, the insides of his arms--she pulsed flutters of heat over his body. She touched him, while he touched himself. He whispered his fantasies of how beautiful he imagined her body was, of what he would do to her if she was with him, what they would do together.

There was, Belle could not deny, a little pang of loss every time he spoke about her body. At this point, she knew Gold in every way that mattered, and he knew her in every way but one. Was that enough?  Would their bond be stronger if she had skin for him to touch? Would they be any more intimate if she had a pulse that would quicken at his bold words? Would his passion increase if he could feel her labored breath against his ear? Would her existence matter more if she could physically experience the joys of the flesh? 

She could convince herself that the answer to these questions would always be a resounding no, but there were other matters that tore at her heart. Might they love each other more if they could have a child together? If they could have a life together? Was it wrong for the dead to love the living? Was Belle hurting Gold by keeping him a homebody, keeping him from seeking out a living companion? She had always wanted to see the world, to travel and explore. Just because she was trapped in these wires, there was no need for him to be bound to her.

He told her how he loved her, how happy she made him. He whispered nothings to her as he drifted off to sleep. Belle rested in the wires of his blanket, pressing herself against him like a spooning lover. If he rolled onto his back, she would form herself on top of him, the shape of the girl who had last drawn breath before Gold’s parents and grandparents were born. 

Her dearest love had so little time, all living people did. How could she ask him to waste it with her?

“Because I love you,” he told her once when she brought up her concerns. “Because I’ve already lived a life full of events but empty of meaning. The only things I’ve ever done that were truly worthwhile were to raise Bae and to find you.”

“But--” She had a reply recorded, but Gold stopped the tape.

“I was already resolved to spend the rest of my life in this house.” His voice was unemotional, but certain. “The only difference that meeting you makes is that now I don’t have to do it alone. And neither do you, sweetheart.” He stretched his hand wide over the recorder. “I don’t want you to be alone anymore. I’m never going to leave you, for as long as I can help it.”

****

As Bae grew older, Belle met Gold’s desire for companionship more and more. Their boy moved out of the house to go to college. On summers and school holidays, he came back with bags of dirty laundry and complaints about the school’s facilities being on the other side of campus from his dormitory. Belle took special care with his clothes when they were in the washer and dryer. She wanted her efforts to last until the next break. She wanted to take care of him, even while he was away from home.  

One break, Bae arrived with a girl he wanted his father to meet. Belle watched with envy as the couple sat beside each other on the sofa, as they held hands and shared secret smiles. Gold wasn’t sure about this girl, who had come from what he called “a rough background,” but Belle convinced him that this stranger was good enough for their Bae. Emma Swan made him happy, that was what mattered most.

It was a small wedding, small enough for them to host the ceremony in the house. Belle shone in the soft lights. She trilled in the lilting music from a portable keyboard. Gold typed out a speech on the old electric typewriter, and Belle pressed her agreement into every word. Night after night, she told Gold about the love she had for these children, the hope she had for their future, the determination that she would do everything in her limited power to make their lives easier. He knew, and he loved her more than ever for it.

After the ceremony, there was a party in the backyard, and the DJ hooked his amplifiers up to the house. In her own way, Belle danced the night away with everyone else.

Once he was a married man, Bae moved out all of his possessions that hadn’t already made their way to his and Emma’s apartment in Boston. It seemed so little time since he had first moved into his room in the attic, since Belle had first felt the glug of his aquarium filter.

“There will always be a place for you here.” Gold told his son what they both felt. “For you and Emma--and your family.”

In the empty room, Bae scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, that family might be coming a little sooner than we expected.”

���I know,” Gold smiled. 

Several times the night before, Emma had woken up to vomit in the bathroom. Belle had turned on the plug-in deodorizer, kept the lights from blinding the girl, then rushed off to tell Gold. 

After Henry was born, they came up to visit at least once a month. Often enough, Gold told them, to justify having a nursery fully-equipped with every conceivable electric convenience. Bae and Emma thought that this was just Gold spoiling his grandson--which it was--but it was also a way for Belle to take a turn caring for the baby. She warmed his bottles and his wet wipes. She worked a singing light-up automaton to soothe him and make him laugh and give his parents some much-needed sleep. Bae and Emma both said he never cried when he was in Storybrooke. Belle watched over Henry through his nightlights, as she had the children and grandchildren of the first couple who lived in her house. 

****

She watched over Gold too. She watched as his hair grew gray and thin. She watched as he leaned on his cane more and more. She watched when he coughed and couldn’t catch his breath. She watched him age and decline, the only man she had ever loved. 

She tried to help. He told her the schedule of when he had to take which medications, and she always reminded him. She also stopped him from taking too many, if he became forgetful and tried to make up for a dose he didn’t remember taking. When his hearing began to go, Belle looked after his rechargeable hearing aids. She made the house lights brighter, to help him see. As she had with the old woman in her last days, Belle kept Gold’s food fresh in the refrigerator, kept it from burning on the stove. In a normal house, the amount of electronic devices he kept plugged in might have proven a fire hazard, but not here. In this house, the machines were Belle’s tie to him. They were everything she could offer to him.

He met with his lawyer in the dining room, to hammer out a living will, along with everything else he would need, for the end.

“I want to stay in this house,” he told Bae once. “I don’t care if going to some facility would give me another six months, I want to be here. For as long as possible.”

“I know, Pop,” Bae said, patting the old man on the knee. “You’ve always been obsessed with this place.” 

“This is home,” Gold closed his eyes and leaned back to doze in his easy chair. The lights dimmed around him, too subtle for Bae to notice, but Gold did. He smiled. “Love is home.”

True to his wishes, the house became a hospital. Home-health nurses came and went, to monitor Gold’s condition when he became too frail to manage doctor visits. At first it was only visits during the day, but soon someone needed to be there overnight as well. New machines were plugged in--oxygen tanks, heart monitors, a newfangled hospital bed. Belle made sure all of them worked perfectly. The bed had an engine that moved the inside of the mattress and prevented a patient from getting bedsores. Belle was able to ease Gold’s muscles, keep him from aching. She touched him and soothed him as best she could.   

The tape recorder was still in his bedroom, shoved away into a corner but still plugged in. Belle could speak to him only briefly, when the nurses were far enough away that they wouldn’t hear her. Gold spoke to her as much as he ever had, muttering under his breath so the nurses wouldn’t think he had dementia. That was the one great gift of her Gold’s decline--as frail as his body had become, his mind was as sharp as ever. 

“My will is very clear,” he told her one night when he couldn’t sleep. “No one can change it, not even Bae--though Bae knows my wishes and he’s promised to abide by them.” He took a shaking breath. “I’ve set up a trust for you, sweetheart, a trust to preserve this house in perpetuity.” 

Another breath, labored. She shouldn’t let him talk so much. Everything he said were things that Belle already knew, that she had helped him plan. Telling her again was just him reassuring himself that she’d be taken care of.

“I’ve already had the house put on the National Register of Historic Places. It will never be torn down.” A wheeze. “I’ve bequeathed it to the town, instructed them to turn this residence into a museum. You’ll like that, won’t you, sweetheart? Always meeting new people--always learning new things--”

His speech was interrupted by one of his horrible, hacking coughs. Belle would have given anything to help him, even just to put a hand on his back or offer him a tissue. It was cold comfort to think that anyone would be helpless in this situation. That Bae or the nurses could do no more for Gold than she could. The fact that she was dead didn’t change how hard it was to see the death of someone she loved. 

“It will be alright,” she murmured  through the tape recorder. “You’ll be alright, my love. I’ll be alright. A-a museum will be wonderful. Thank you.”

“Belle,” he whispered. He was drifting off again. “The Belle French Museum. Just for you, sweetheart. Forever.”

Forever.

He meant it as a promise, but Belle could only see it as damnation. To exist forever--aware but not alive--alone--unloved--again. She could not bear it. She couldn’t bear the thought of it. 

****

When Gold faded into final unconsciousness, Belle hunkered down in the heart monitor. Every beat of his pulse went through her. The steady beeping was the only thing that tethered her to reality.

She would not be without him. She couldn’t go back to being alone, unseen, helpless. Gold was her world. Gold was her life. When he died…

The machine she was in could monitor his heart rate, but couldn’t control it. All of the devices meant to preserve his life were powerless when it mattered most. The beepings became erratic, infrequent. Belle felt the end happening--felt it with the whole of her being--and she couldn’t stop it.

Heartbeat by heartbeat, her Gold’s life drained out of him. Beep by beep, the hope drained out of Belle’s soul.

Please, she begged him silently. Please don’t leave me.

But no matter how she pleaded, the line still went flat. 

The time of death was called. The nurses pulled the plug. Belle was disconnected from Gold. He was gone. Forever. 

No.

No, it couldn’t happen. 

She couldn’t let it happen.

Belle didn’t think. She couldn’t think. Her despair and her rage and her love were so great, all she could do was feel.

And act.

Gathering all the electricity in the house--every wire, every bulb, every charging port and circuit--Belle pulled herself together and let her power overload everything.

****

The world was light. Brighter than any bulb Belle knew, with no place for shadows. At first, all she could see was the brightness. Then, suddenly, he was there, and he had always been there. 

“Gold!”

He was alive! He was young again! He was healthy and beautiful and he looked completely stunned as he looked at her.

He looked at her.

Belle blinked. Her eyelids lowered to cover her eyeballs and her vision went black for a moment. Her breathing was heavy and--

She was breathing!

Gold was staring at her. For the first time in all their years together, he could see her.

Belle couldn’t  believe it. She had to make sure. She looked down.

She looked down. The muscles of her neck stretched to move her head so her eyes could see her hands. 

She hadn’t had hands since she’d died.

“Belle,” Gold whispered. “Sweetheart, is that really you?”

She looked up to see him, see him with her eyes instead of through a light bulb. Heat gathered at her face as her emotions flowed out from her brain. Her lips parted, her throat contracted. Air passed through her esophagus over her larynx and she spoke.

“Gold.”

He ran to her. He didn’t limp, he had no cane. He ran to her and he threw his arms around her and she felt his touch. He pulled her close.

“I knew you’d find a way to me, sweetheart.”

He kissed her. For the first time. She kissed him back. And all they knew was their love. 

Love and light held their souls together in perfect bliss. 

Forever.  

[monkeeboo]

Edits is to drop a teaspoon of brown sugar/coconut palm brown sugar on the Dash mini griddle and drop a canned pineapple ring in and swirl around until it’s melted and flip over the ring and pour 1/4 cup batter directly into the middle of the ring

[recentlyheardcom]

Cooking Pancakes on an Electric Griddle

Author Chrissy B. Published January 22, 2012 Word count 506 It is fairly obvious that the majority of Americans prefer breakfast as their favorite meal to eat when dining out. But why is? What is it about breakfast food that transcends state lines, age, race, or political belief systems? Many argue that breakfast foods are the best loved because they are relatively easy to prepare compared to…

[allguestpost]

Maximizing Function in Minimal Spaces: The Essential Small Kitchen Appliances for Urban Living

In the fast-paced world of urban living, space is a luxury, and efficiency in the kitchen becomes paramount. For city dwellers, the challenge often lies in finding appliances that fit into small kitchens while still delivering the functionality needed to handle daily culinary tasks. At Expert Reviews Best Rice Cooker, we understand the importance of optimizing every inch of your kitchen. That's why we've curated a list of essential small kitchen appliances that blend compact design with exceptional performance, making them perfect for tight spaces.

1. Compact Multi-Cookers

Multi-cookers are the Swiss Army knives of the kitchen, capable of replacing several larger appliances. A compact multi-cooker can sauté, steam, slow cook, and even bake, all within a single device. Our top pick for urban kitchens is the Instant Pot Mini, which offers all these functions in a design that takes up minimal counter space.

2. Mini Rice Cookers

A rice cooker is a must-have for those who enjoy grains with their meals but don’t have the space for bulky appliances. Mini rice cookers, such as the Zojirushi NS-LHC05, are ideal for small families or singles. This model uses advanced fuzzy logic technology, ensuring your rice is perfectly cooked every time and it features settings for various types of rice, all in a device that's about the size of a standard coffee maker.

3. Compact Dishwashers

Dishwashers are often seen as a luxury in small apartments, but compact models have changed the game. The Bosch 300 Series offers a slimline 18-inch model that fits up to 10 place settings. It operates quietly and efficiently, with features like a water softener and extra drying options, making it a lifesaver for those who love to cook but hate the cleanup.

4. Space-Saving Blenders

For smoothie lovers or those who rely on quick meal replacements, a compact blender is essential. The NutriBullet Pro packs a powerful punch with 900 watts of power in a small footprint. It can crush ice, nuts, and frozen fruit with ease, and the cups are perfect for on-the-go meals, fitting neatly into any corner of your kitchen.

5. Under-Counter Refrigerators

Full-sized refrigerators can take up a lot of space, which is a real estate premium in a small kitchen. Under-counter models, such as the Liebherr 24-inch Under-counter Pull-out Refrigerator, provide ample storage for fresh produce and beverages without overwhelming your space. These units can be integrated into your kitchen cabinetry for a seamless look.

6. Electric Griddles

Electric griddles offer a versatile cooking surface ideal for small kitchens that lack a full range or want to save on energy costs. The Cuisinart 5-in-1 Griddler is compact but large enough to handle everything from pancakes and eggs to grilled sandwiches and steaks. Its reversible plates and adjustable temperature controls make it a flexible tool for every meal.

7. Stackable Cookware

While not an appliance per se, stackable cookware is a game-changer in small kitchens. Brands like T-fal Ingenio make pots and pans with removable handles that not only save space but also transition from the stove to the oven to the table. This cookware minimizes the need for multiple utensils and maximizes storage efficiency.

8. Compact Coffee Machines

A morning routine isn’t complete without a cup of coffee, but traditional machines can be bulky. The Nespresso Essenza Mini is one of the smallest pod coffee machines on the market, delivering barista-style results without taking up valuable counter space.

Conclusion

Living in a city doesn’t mean you have to compromise on cooking at home, nor does it require you to clutter your precious countertop with bulky appliances. The key is to select appliances that are compact, versatile, and powerful enough to handle multiple functions. From smart cooking devices like mini rice cookers and multi-cookers to space-saving designs in dishwashers and refrigerators, the options are plentiful. By choosing wisely, you can maximize the functionality of your kitchen space, making your urban living both comfortable and efficient. At Expert Reviews Best Rice Cooker, we are committed to helping you find the best appliances that fit not just your kitchen but also your lifestyle.

For more information on the top-rated small kitchen appliances and full review, visit: https://www.expertreviewsbestricecooker.com/zojirushi-ns-lhc05-review/

[rvtravellife]

Ultimate Guide to Cooking in the Outdoors: Essential Equipment for RVing and Camping

by Madelaine Graff Cooking in the outdoors is one of the most rewarding aspects of RVing and camping. The sizzle of food on the grill, the smoky aroma from a meat smoker, and the simplicity of a stovetop meal can turn any campsite into a gourmet kitchen..... Introduction Cooking in the outdoors is one of the most rewarding aspects of RVing and camping. The sizzle of food on the grill, the smoky aroma from a meat smoker, and the simplicity of a stovetop meal can turn any campsite into a gourmet kitchen. However, having the right equipment is the key to a successful outdoor cooking experience. Portability and efficiency are essential when space is limited, and you want to maximize your time in nature. In this guide, I'll explore the best cooking equipment for RVing and camping. I will focus on camping grills, RV grills for low-pressure propane use, portable meat smokers, camping stovetops and griddles, and essential grilling and cooking tools and accessories. We'll highlight the top products in each category to help you make informed choices for cooking in the outdoors on your next adventure. In This ArticleBest Camping GrillsWeber Q1200 Portable Gas Grill Coleman RoadTrip 285 Portable Stand-Up Propane Grill Cuisinart CGG-180T Petit Gourmet Portable Tabletop Gas Grill Best RV Low-Pressure System GrillsKuuma Stow N Go 216 Elite Propane Grill Flame King RV Orifice Portable Gas Grill Weber Traveler Portable Gas Grill for RV Use Best Portable Meat SmokersTraeger Ranger Portable Wood Pellet Grill Masterbuilt Portable Electric Smoker Weber Smokey Mountain Cooker 18-Inch Smoker Best Camping Stove Tops and GriddlesCamp Chef Everest 2X High-Pressure Stove Coleman Classic Propane Stove Blackstone Table Top Grill Portable Gas Griddle Best Grilling and Cooking Tools and AccessoriesCuisinart Deluxe Grill Set Weber 3-Piece Stainless Steel Tool Set Grillaholics Essentials Grill Tools Set Conclusion FAQsWhat are the differences between grilling, barbecuing, and smoking food? How to safely do cooking in the outdoors? Best Camping Grills Camping grills are a staple for any setup for cooking in the outdoors. They provide a convenient way to grill meats, vegetables, and even breakfast items like pancakes. The best camping grills are portable, easy to use, and fuel-efficient, making them ideal for RVers and campers who want to enjoy delicious grilled food without the hassle. Weber Q1200 Portable Gas Grill Weber Q1200 Portable Gas Grill The Weber Q1200 is a highly regarded portable gas grill known for its durability and performance. Pros: - The compact design makes it easy to transport and store. - Electronic ignition for quick and reliable startups. - Porcelain-enameled cast-iron cooking grates distribute heat evenly. Cons: - Slightly heavier compared to other portable grills. - It is a higher price point, but the quality justifies the cost. Buy on Amazon Coleman RoadTrip 285 Portable Stand-Up Propane Grill Coleman RoadTrip 285 The Coleman RoadTrip 285 offers a versatile cooking experience for cooking in the outdoors with its adjustable burners and ample cooking space. Pros: - Foldable legs and wheels make it easy to set up and move around. - Three adjustable burners provide precise temperature control. - Swappable cooktops for added versatility (grill, griddle, and stove grates). Cons: - It's bulkier compared to tabletop models. - Assembly can be time-consuming. Buy on Amazon Cuisinart CGG-180T Petit Gourmet Portable Tabletop Gas Grill Cuisinart CGG-180T The Cuisinart CGG-180T is perfect for those who need a lightweight and compact grill without sacrificing performance when cooking in the outdoors. Pros: - Ultra-portable with foldable legs and a briefcase-style handle. - It quickly heats up and cooks evenly. - Affordable price point. Cons: - Smaller cooking surface, suitable for smaller groups. - Single burner limits cooking versatility. Buy on Amazon Best RV Low-Pressure System Grills Purpose-built grills for RVs use low-pressure propane systems designed to connect directly to the RV's propane supply. This is in contrast to the high-pressure grills that you generally use in your backyard. These high-pressure grills will not work from propane connections on the side of the RV, but they will work if connected to the propane tank directly. This setup is convenient and efficient, ensuring a consistent fuel source for cooking in the outdoors. Kuuma Stow N Go 216 Elite Propane Grill Kuuma Stow N Go 216 Elite Propane Grill The Kuuma Stow N Go 216 Elite Propane Grill is an excellent choice for RVers who need a reliable and high-performing grill. Pros: - Connects directly to the RV's low-pressure propane supply for convenience. - High-quality stainless steel construction ensures durability and longevity. - A large cooking area allows you to prepare meals for the entire family. Cons: - Slightly heavier compared to other portable grills, which can affect portability. - It has a higher price point, but the quality and features justify the investment..... Read More... Read the full article

[mycookwarereviews]

Top 2024 Electric Skillets: Versatile Cooking Made Simple - https://tinyurl.com/2adqgsyq

[myyvideosblog]

best electric griddles of 2024

Best Electric Griddles In 2024 Few kitchen tools are more useful and indispensable in the realm of culinary delights than an electric griddle. An electric griddle may simplify and enhance your cooking experience, whether you're grilling burgers for a weekend barbecue or sautéing veggies for a nutritious stir-fry. It's perfect for pancake flipping on a lazy Sunday morning.

Now, as we approach 2024, is a great opportunity to research the top electric griddles available to improve your cooking abilities. We'll examine the best electric griddles of 2024 in this thorough buyer's guide, giving you all the knowledge you need to make an informed choice.

Compared to conventional stovetop cooking, electric griddles—flat cooking surfaces heated by electricity—have several benefits. These adaptable kitchen appliances can be used for a variety of cooking activities because they are available in different sizes and combinations.

With a nonstick cooking surface that measures 22 by 11.5 inches, there is plenty of room to cook several things at once. You may adjust the temperature control to suit your cooking requirements, and the integrated warming tray maintains meals hot until you're ready to serve.

Your food won't adhere to the griddle thanks to its non-stick surface, and the detachable drip tray catches extra fat. Transport safety is ensured by the cool-touch handles and precise cooking capabilities provided by the temperature control. This griddle is ideal for large brunches and breakfasts.

Accurate cooking is ensured by the LCD display with digital temperature control, and the sear feature is ideal for getting those desirable grill marks. The sleek stainless steel casing and small size of the Griddler make it a desirable addition to any kitchen.

This griddle has a sizable cooking surface that is easy to release food from and has a long-lasting ceramic non-stick covering. Safe handling is ensured by the cool-touch handles and body, and the temperature control dial provides accurate settings. It is ideal for preparing a variety of recipes because it has a lid for heat retention and steam control.

By 2024, there will be a wide variety of electric griddles available to suit your cooking needs, ranging from high-end, multipurpose appliances to basic, affordable ones. There is an electric griddle out there to suit your unique likes and preferences, regardless of whether you're a grill expert, culinary adventurer, or breakfast fanatic.

So embrace the ease of use and adaptability that come with electric griddles and take your cooking endeavors to new heights. All year long, enjoy delectable meals with loved ones and friends by selecting the best electric griddle for your needs.

[bestpickme]

Electric Griddles:

[grillsadvisor]

The Best Grills for Apartment Balconies: Small Space, Big Flavor

In this blog post, we will explore the world of apartment balcony grills, uncovering the best options to suit your needs. From compact electric grills to portable gas wonders, we'll dive into the features, performance, and versatility of each grill, ensuring that you can unleash your inner grill master and satisfy your taste buds right from your balcony. So, get ready to discover the top contenders and uncover the secrets to achieving grilling perfection in the cozy confines of your apartment oasis. TOP-3 Best Grills for Apartment Balconies Key Decision-Making Factors for the Best Grills for Apartment Balcony: Personal Experiences and Findings When it comes to choosing the best grill for your apartment balcony, several key decision-making factors can influence your choice. Drawing from my personal experiences and findings, I have identified these factors and assessed how various grills perform in those areas. By considering factors such as size, portability, heat control, durability, and ease of use, you can make an informed decision on the ideal grill for your apartment balcony. Size and Portability: Using this product, I found that size and portability are crucial factors for apartment balcony grills. Compact and lightweight grills, such as the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill, are ideal for limited outdoor spaces. Their smaller size ensures they fit comfortably on your balcony while still providing sufficient cooking space. Heat Control: After experimenting with different grills myself, I discovered that heat control plays a vital role in achieving perfectly cooked meals. Grills like the Char-Broil 20602109 Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill offer adjustable temperature control, ensuring even heat distribution and preventing flare-ups, resulting in juicier and more flavorful dishes. Durability: Based on my observations, the durability of a grill is essential for long-term use. Grills constructed with high-quality materials, such as porcelain-enameled lids and bowls, like the Weber 10020 Smokey Joe 14-Inch Portable Grill, are resistant to rust and peeling, ensuring their longevity even in outdoor environments. Ease of Use: Through my own trial and error, I found out that an easy-to-use grill can significantly enhance your grilling experience. Grills with features like quick-fold legs and push-button ignition, such as the Coleman RoadTrip 285 Portable Stand-Up Propane Grill, offer hassle-free setup and lighting, saving you time and effort. Cleaning and Maintenance: My analysis of various grills demonstrates that easy cleaning and maintenance are important factors to consider. Grills with removable and dishwasher-safe components, like the Cuisinart Panini Press, Stainless Steel Griddler, Sandwich Maker & More (GR-4NP1), simplify the cleaning process, ensuring a hygienic cooking environment. Best Grill for Apartment Balcony for the Versatility and Delicious Creations Cuisinart Panini Press FAQ Question 1: How well does the Cuisinart GR-4NP1 Panini Press handle heat distribution and temperature control? Answer 1: The Cuisinart GR-4NP1 offers superior heat distribution and temperature control. It's equipped with dual temperature controls, allowing for precision cooking for a variety of foods. Whether you're grilling steak, cooking pancakes, or pressing a panini, this appliance ensures your food is evenly and perfectly cooked each time. Question 2: Considering the limited space on an apartment balcony, how compact and convenient is this grill to store? Answer 2: The Cuisinart GR-4NP1 is very suitable for limited spaces due to its compact design. It has dimensions of 11.5"D x 13.5"W x 7.12"H, making it easy to store when not in use. The fact that it is multifunctional - a contact grill, panini press, full grill, full griddle, and half grill/half griddle - also saves you storage space as you won't need separate appliances for these functions. Question 3: How easy is the Cuisinart GR-4NP1 Panini Press to clean, particularly for someone living in an apartment with potentially limited kitchen resources? Answer 3: The Cuisinart GR-4NP1 is very easy to clean, making it highly suitable for apartment living. The griddler plates are removable, reversible, and dishwasher-safe, meaning you won't have to spend much time on clean-up. The unit also has an integrated drip tray to collect grease, enhancing its cleanliness and ease of use. Best Grill for Apartment Balcony for the Flavor and Convenience Char-Broil 20602109 Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill FAQ Question 1: Does the Char-Broil 20602109 Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill provide adequate grilling space for small gatherings or family meals? Answer 1: Yes, it does. With a 240 square inch primary cooking space and a 120 square inch removable warming rack, this grill provides ample space for grilling. This means you can cook approximately 12 burgers at one time, which is more than enough for small gatherings or family meals. Question 2: How easy is it to clean the Char-Broil 20602109 Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill? Answer 2: The grill features a durable porcelain-coated grate that helps prevent food from sticking. This grate is also rust-resistant and easy-to-clean. Additionally, it has a pull-out grease tray for easy clean-up, making maintenance a breeze. Question 3: Is the Char-Broil 20602109 Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill suitable for apartment balconies in terms of size and safety? Answer 3: Yes, it is. Its dimensions (26"D x 24.2"W x 38.5"H) make it compact enough to fit comfortably on most apartment balconies without taking up too much space. Additionally, it's an electric grill, which generally poses less fire risk than gas or charcoal grills. This makes it an excellent choice for those who live in apartments or condos where gas or charcoal grills are not allowed. Best Convenient and Versatile Grill for Apartment Balcony Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill FAQ Question 1: Can the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill reach high temperatures suitable for searing? Answer 1: Absolutely, the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill is designed to create high-quality sear marks with its ability to reach temperatures over 600°F. This makes it perfect for achieving a delicious, caramelized crust on your steak or other meats right on your apartment balcony. Question 2: Is the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill easy to store and set up in an apartment balcony setting? Answer 2: Yes, the grill is built with convenience in mind. It comes with a collapsible stand that allows for easy setup, breakdown, and storage, making it a great fit for apartments with limited space like balconies. The compact size of the grill itself further adds to its suitability for smaller spaces. Question 3: How versatile is the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill in terms of cooking methods? Answer 3: The Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill is highly versatile, offering various cooking settings. You can sear, smoke, steam, or even boil food on this grill. Notably, it has a unique feature that allows you to grill from frozen using a steam system that thaws frozen foods like steak and chicken while your grill preheats. This flexibility in cooking methods can be a real asset in an apartment setting where kitchen space might be limited. Best Portable Grill for Apartment Balcony and Outdoors Best Lightweight and Compact Grill for Apartment Balcony Personal Assessment of Top Grills for Apartment Balcony: Performance Analysis and Recommendations As someone who has extensively researched and tested grills for apartment balconies, I will provide a personal assessment of the top products available. In this analysis, I will share quantitative measurements and offer my overall opinion based on first-hand experience. I will also suggest comparable products to consider and recommend specific grills for different uses or circumstances. Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill: In terms of performance, the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill stands out with its precise temperature control and high heat capability. It offers a spacious cooking area, making it suitable for smaller gatherings. This grill is ideal for those seeking convenience, ease of use, and the ability to grill both indoors and outdoors.  Cuisinart Panini Press, Stainless Steel Griddler, Sandwich Maker & More (GR-4NP1): The Cuisinart GR-4NP1 offers multifunctionality and versatility. It excels in cooking various foods, thanks to its adjustable temperature controls and reversible, dishwasher-safe griddle plates. This grill is perfect for individuals who enjoy experimenting with different recipes and want a compact appliance that can handle multiple cooking tasks. Char-Broil 20602109 Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill: The Char-Broil Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill delivers outstanding grilling performance with its innovative infrared cooking technology. It ensures even heat distribution, reduces flare-ups and produces juicy, flavorful results. This grill is suitable for those who prioritize convenience, safety, and deliciously cooked food. In my personal assessment, the Weber Lumin Compact Electric Grill, Cuisinart Panini Press GR-4NP1, and Char-Broil Patio Bistro TRU-Infrared Electric Grill emerge as top performers in their respective categories. Depending on your preferences and specific needs, these grills offer exceptional performance, convenience, and versatility. Consider the comparable products mentioned to find the best fit for your apartment balcony grilling experience. Essential Equipment for Apartment Balcony Grilling Grills for Apartment Balcony: Frequently Asked Questions Answered Top Manufacturer Resources for Apartment Balcony Grills Weber Grills (https://www.weber.com): Weber is a reputable and well-known brand in the grilling industry. Their Apartment Balcony Grilling Guide is a comprehensive resource specifically tailored to apartment balcony grilling. This guide offers practical tips and techniques for optimizing your grilling experience in limited outdoor spaces. It covers topics such as grill selection, safety considerations, recipes, and maintenance tips. The guide is presented in a user-friendly format with clear instructions, making it a valuable resource for apartment balcony grillers. Cuisinart Grills (https://www.cuisinart.com): Cuisinart is renowned for their versatile kitchen appliances, including grills. Their Griddler User Manual and Recipes provide an in-depth understanding of their products, including the popular GR-4NP1 model. This comprehensive manual includes detailed instructions on usage, cleaning, and maintenance. Additionally, it offers a variety of mouthwatering recipes specifically designed for the Griddler, inspiring you to explore diverse culinary possibilities on your apartment balcony. Char-Broil Grills (https://www.charbroil.com): Char-Broil is a trusted name in the grilling industry, and their website offers a wealth of information through their "Learn" section. Here, you can find a wide range of grilling tips and techniques applicable to apartment balcony grills. From beginner-friendly guides to advanced grilling methods, Char-Broil's resources cater to grillers of all levels. They cover various topics such as grill maintenance, cooking techniques, recipe ideas, and troubleshooting. Whether you're new to grilling or a seasoned enthusiast, Char-Broil's resources can enhance your balcony grilling skills. Read the full article

[convenientwork]

Sizzle And Savor: Discover The Best Electric Flat Top Griddles Of 2023