#i have no clean cutlery other than a small fork and a couple small spoons oops

[piplupod]

prancing around and pretending everything is okay and i am not doomed !!!!

[traaansfem]

A large sieve, or a colander with medium or small holes for water drainage that you line with a rough cheesecloth to prevent the rice just spilling out both work for this, and those same implements end up being very useful for cooking pasta and draining it if you have a sink in your kitchen (SUPER IMPORTANT. one of my highest priorities in a residence is good access to water in useful spots). This lets you clean rice much faster than swirling it in a bowl or something, particularly as you can run water over it for as long as it would take to fill a bowl of water and remove more aflatoxin or other detritus by simple dint of the mechanical motion of the water and the rice not settling to the bottom of a bowl to soak in dirty water. Moveable sink heads are your friend for this, but they are not strictly necessary- they are just a time saver.

Colanders also work for storing small pans and bowls, as long as you don't put anything narrow enough to fall through the holes in them. Store colanders and similar things in drawers and cupboards below head height if possible, and optimally in pull out drawers- this prevents you from pulling a pan off a shelf and accidentally dropping a pail full of knives on yourself because a visiting relative or new roommate doesn't know how you organize your kitchen and tried straightening.

Anyway, colander and a stainless steel saucepan with wide sides- good for a lot of starches, even rice if you don't have a rice cooker. There are thermal plates with weird alloys to allow you to cook rice on the stovetop but it will not beat a rice cooker. The stainless steel saucepan also works for sauces, some dessert recipes, frying (if you're moving out of a rental soon and you think your landlord could deal with the smell of fried fish, donuts, chicken, and assorted aerosolized oil bits, etc). Cast iron skillets are good for higher heat cooking, but you'll want some way to handle smoke for that, since it will produce some simply due to the temperature differences from stainless. A fan you can mount near your window or some way to ventilate a kitchen is important for some bigger recipes.

Anyway, my kitchen appliance necessities list is:

Rice cooker

Sieve that nests in a colander (or the inverse, colander that nests in a sieve- doesn't matter much- don't bother matching brands, sizes are fairly similar across them)

Stainless steel sauce pan with high sides (a good one will be inherited from your parents or someone 20-30 years older than you (age bracket stuff more than anything), after they bought it moving into their first rental in a new city, or something like that. and you can often find those same exact models of pans today- not going to shill anything, but you can often check embossed or engraved metal bits in the handles and track down more of a good type of pan with that.)

Cast iron pan (pick one you can fit in your oven if you have one, or comfortably one your stovetop if not. the smallest ones I see much use out of are 7-ish inches- as long as it fits on a stove, you can get use out of it. these are great for breakfast dishes where you heat eggs or starches, and often high fat proteins.)

Cutlery- Spoons, Knives, Forks, Serrated knives. DO NOT bother buying any that aren't marked dishwasher safe- even if you aren't using one, that is an implication of lower durability and resilience overall.

A fan you can use to clear smoke out of an area FAST (multipurpose for people without my allergies, from what I gather)

1 or 2 Chef knives- generally larger and sharper than cutlery meant for eating. (do not put these in a dishwasher, as the blade will deteriorate.)

Paring knife- a tiny chefs knife, usually has a different tip shape depending on its intended use. (meant for small, less starchy/tough vegetables and fungi by and large.)

2 Cheap cutting boards- you use these until they are marked and scratched enough that they're hard to clean, then you get new ones. mostly for food safety reasons.

A couple food safe prep bowls- glass, non-american pyrex, ceramic, metal, plastic, whatever you can get that will last. my preference is for simple metal, but I've known people who prefer plastic bowls with metal interiors and a rubber base for stability.

Optional but highly recommended

Whetstone or knife sharpener- Will extend the life of chef knives and paring knives significantly, at some point the blade will be back past the fuller- you'll need to get the fuller reground by an actual professional then, unless you've taken up metalworking.

Pressure cooker- Instant pots are actually as useful as the raving maddened hordes on SEO recipe sites say- also great for stock without boiling bones on the stove for six hours.

Cheese/vegetable grater- many are garbage, but sometimes you'll get one that lasts you for 30+ years with no discernible change in sharpness, even if it goes through a dishwasher.

Fish spatula- actually just a really long metal spatula with slots running down the metal section- basically just a stiff spatula but netter for most stovetop cooking, although they are not great for baking.

A little stainless steel chainmail square for cleaning pans- not strictly necessary, but it makes cleaning cast iron pans way faster, as well as cleaning particularly dirty stainless steel pans without nonstick coatings. This is a good tool for cleaning pans with caked on grime, burnt things, and similar stuff- dried or burnt caramel for instance. If something is very stubborn and would shred a sponge to clean, it would be wiser to sue one of these and then go over again with a sponge. I have one of these, and I put it in the dishwasher after use- it is an incredible tool for minimizing time spent scrubbing pans.

Things TO do for cleaning:

Clean the metal inserts of pressure cookers and rice cookers. Put them in a sink and fill partway with warm/hot water, a little dish soap and scrub them with a sponge. good practice in general, but these benefit from this a lot, as it prevents bacterial buildup a lot more effectively than just dishwashing with a mechanical dishwasher- although if the insert is rated for that, it can be good to put it in for a cycle in that afterwards, if the recipe you cooked had you worried about contamination.

Set out a towel or a drying mat for washed utensils and pots/pans, and dry them after you wash everything you can stand to wash at once. If you have chronic fatigue, prioritize the things you'll use the most or the easiest things to clean. This step can be exhausting, and the drying mat saves you some time, and prevents water from pooling on the objects as they rest, before you dry them.

Run water over things before adding soap and scrubbing when you clean them- this saves effort, as sometimes things you think will be a nightmare to clean have a section that is water soluble, and the problem ends up being much smaller than you feared.

Finally, advice on things to NOT do when cleaning these things:

NEVER put something with rivets in a dishwasher. There are quicker ways to crack the surrounding materials via thermal stress, but mostly only with liquid nitrogen. A lot of kitchen knife and stiff spatula attrition is down to this.

Do not put anything with wood in a dishwasher. This will damage the wood and make it dry, brittle, and prone to splintering.

Do NOT reuse a sponge for more than a few days and NEVER use a sponge for more than a week. There is very quickly a point in a sponge's use cycle where it spreads more bacteria than it removes grease, grime, and other forms of debris.

Don't dump things in a sink full of sudsy water. I have seen people slice off fingertips when there were knives in a sink of water that was obscured by soap bubbles, murkyness, or simple water based refraction- this is easily avoided, so please do avoid it.

This is by no means an exhaustive list, but it should have the basics, and it should serve as a good resource for the cleaning stage of cooking and baking. I hope this helps to anyone looking for more info on the original post or clarifications on the matters below.

Dear people living on your own for the first time:

Here’s some advice I wasn’t told from the myriad of posts before that I wish I’d been given before

Wash the OUTSIDE of your pots and pans as well as the cooking surface. I’ve had a few roommates now who have only cleaned the inside and I’ve had to replace a $150 set of cookware twice.

“its only one time, how bad could using metal on nonstick cookware really be?” very bad. don’t do this.

Buy a rice cooker. Buy the middle tier rice cooker. Cheap ones will burn your rice, high tier ones are too expensive. Rice is good and cheap and, really, you don’t actually have to wash it if you don’t care about making gourmet food.

Buy band-aids. You don’t think you need band-ads until you need a band-aid, and by then it’s too late. (if you don’t follow this advice, a paper towel and some tape is an acceptable solution while you go get real bandages and neosporin)

You are on tumblr, which means you probably spend most of your time in one spot on a computer or phone. if this spot doesn’t have a trash can in arm’s reach, put one there.

 I spent 4 years piling trash on my desk in increasingly precarious ways until I had a designated area to put it. Trash cans can and should go anywhere there is a frequent generation of trash, typical locations be damned.

If you live with one or two roommates, discuss placing empty boxes in the back of your fridge and freezer. You probably don’t need all the space that the standard 5-person-family fridge provides, and tupperware will be shoved back there and left to stink up the entire appliance.

Get a wall calendar, put it somewhere communal, and have everyone put their household-relevant schedules on it. Communication is by far the weakest link with roommates (even good ones!) and having something to reference for appointments is always good

[gayhotpriests]

been here all along [fic]

Or; there are traces of Buck all over the Diaz household. 1.8 k

Read on ao3

The coffee maker beeps in the kitchen, the sound carrying all the way into the bedroom the second after Eddie turns off his alarm. A cool breeze comes in through the window Eddie left open last night by mistake, and in the couple steps it takes to go from the bed to the door, Eddie has picked up at least six different clothing items, not even all his, from the floor and the chair in the corner that soon gets tossed into the laundry basket. He stops briefly by Christopher’s room to make sure his son is awake (he’s not, and a cranky five more minutes is heard from under the covers) before going into the bathroom to start his own morning routine.

The bright, red firetruck print that greets him has never failed to make him smile, not once ever since one particular Thursday, maybe two years ago now, when Christopher and Buck spent a couple of hours in the mall looking for a birthday present for one of Chris’s friends but bought a very much not needed set of shower curtains instead, along with matching firetruck soap dispenser and cup. They even have little firefighters painted in the tiny plastic windows, and Christopher might be almost twelve now, but the day he gets tired of his Buck’s gift is yet to come.

A month into the school year, the Diaz family’s mornings have looked mostly the same every day, and this fine Monday proves not to be the exception, as Eddie finds out a few minutes later. A certain blond man is still asleep on Eddie’s couch, and instead of doing his workout, Christopher is sprawled on top of him, snoring lightly. Buck’s legs are twisted in an awkward angle to fit in the couch and one of his hands brushes the fluffy carpet beneath the sofa (the one he picked in an attempt to convince Eddie that his house needed personality), the other holding onto Chris, whose face is completely smushed against the other’s shoulder. Bright blue crutches that Chris has started to grow out of lay in a disorganized pile next to them.

(If Eddie’s heart beats a little bit faster- if his hands itch to hold them too and join the sleepy pile, well. They don’t need to know.)

“Alright, sleepy heads, school starts in an hour! Get up!”

-

Eddie owns a perfectly functional coffee maker, a classic machine with only one button and no special features, that makes his coffee the same way every day, and has done so for almost five years without signs of obsolescence. He’s a simple man with simple tastes, but Eddie’s perfect, simple coffee maker, is currently collecting dust inside a box in the attic.

A steaming cup of coffee, however, is waiting for him on the counter when he steps into the kitchen, complete with milk foam, a shot of caramel, and two sugars: the product of the stupidly expensive machine Buck and Chris had plotted to get him, with all the smart features and Starbucks level settings that Eddie did not need. Using the machine is extremely complicated, too, so once Eddie found out how to input the settings for his drink of choice, he stopped allowing anyone to mess with it. Eddie drinks the sweet concoction religiously every morning, without a fault.

He sips on his sugar bomb slowly as Buck cooks breakfast, eggs, and sausages with toast, fruit salad, and a cup of warm milk for the only kid in the house. The sound of the sizzling pan and the knife hitting the cutting board fills the room along with the smell of homemade breakfast, something that screams of home and family, uninterrupted until Christopher shows up fresh from the shower and in clean clothes, with his restless morning energy and promptly sets to chatting their ears off. Buck keeps the conversation alive and gets the boy to help with mixing the fruit salad while he recounts the last episode of their favorite cartoon they had seen together the previous night. Buck makes surprised sounds at the right times, throwing a few "No way! Tell me more!" for good measure, even though Eddie’s pretty sure he remembers the episode perfectly as he asks the right questions to launch Christopher off in another direction at least three times.

Eddie finishes his coffee, leaves the cup in the sink, and turns to the cupboard to start setting the table.

Three days before school started, Christopher told Eddie that he’s big enough to use big people knives and after a long phone call with his son’s Occupational Therapist, and another with his own therapist, they had gone to the store to get him a cutlery set that could allow him more independence while still on the safer side, and Buck had found the perfect one: the knife has a blunt tip and slightly serrated edge, and a round plastic handle decorated with tiny green and blue dinosaurs.

“Daddy, don’t forget the dinosaurs, please,” Christopher asks politely, just like every day, because he refuses to eat with any other fork or knife. Luckily the set came with six of each, so everyone can use them during breakfast as Christopher prefers.

“Yeah, and don’t forget the big spoon for the fruit salad,” Buck chips in, pointedly looking at Eddie. Clearly, he still hasn’t let go of the last few times he has forgotten the big spoon for the fruit salad. In less than five minutes, they’re seated around the table eating, Christopher’s feet kicking excitedly against Eddie’s when they congratulate him for the A he got in his latest science assignment.

Both his son and best friend clear their plates first, smiles on their faces accompanied by crinkled eyes as they laugh. Eddie has to scold Chris on talking with his mouth full only once- a new record, and Buck only twice, tapping him on the hand with the spoon, reminding him to lead by example and not be a terrible influence on the kid. Buck mumbles a sheepish sorry every time, ducking his head in embarrassment, and Eddie just rolls his eyes and shoots him a fond look. He watches them, joins the laughter when Buck teases him, or when Christopher tells a story from school, warmth filling him up from the inside out.

Soon enough, the time’s up and Christopher goes to brush his teeth and get ready to leave while Eddie and Buck load the dishwasher and wipe the countertops, barely any words exchanged as they move around the kitchen. Eddie checks the calendar by the fridge, next to Christopher’s old artwork and the polaroids held up by fruit magnets. PT at 11 am, Frank’s at 3 pm, reads in the bold block letters of Buck’s handwriting, under Eddie’s own scribble of C’s swimming lessons at 3.30 pm. Eddie makes a face at the overlapping schedule, chews on the inside of his cheek. He’s too late to ask Carla to take Christopher for him, as he gave her the week off a few days ago so she could go to DC for a certification. The last few therapy sessions had been at noon, but PT was pushed up to eleven and so his entire schedule was unexpectedly messed up, and Eddie will have to run from the clinic to Christopher’s school and then take him to the pool, but he’s not cleared to drive yet so he has to account for cab ride expenses and a whole new timeframe now, too. God, he should have gotten this figured out yesterday.

Back in El Paso, when Eddie had worked three jobs, he had once forgotten to pick Christopher up at school because his shift ran longer than usual, his phone died and the teachers were unable to reach him at the construction site. His parents had been called instead, being the second emergency contacts, and they had stared him down later at night while they told him all the reasons he was a bad dad and Christopher should live with them. Don’t drag him down with you, Eddie.

A hand lands on his healthy shoulder, right next to the base of his neck, and Eddie looks away from the calendar to meet a pair of bright blue eyes next to him. Buck watches him for a second before opening his mouth, careful.

“Hey, Eds, I noticed today looks a bit tight and I was thinking I could ask Bobby to let me out for an hour so I can go pick Chris up and drive him to his lessons, or maybe ask Maddie if I’m on a call,” he says, and the knots in his throat slowly start to dissolve, as he stares up to his friend’s calm face. His shoulders slowly start to relax, the injured one pulses with pain. The warmth of Buck's fingers makes the little hairs on his nape stand up as he swipes his thumb twice over the patch of uncovered skin in a comforting gesture.

“Yeah, thanks, man,” Eddie chokes out.

Buck smiles, and it’s all it takes. The fog lifts.

“Sure, I’ll text you in case I can’t make it so you can let the school know Mads is going to get him,” Buck continues, but he’s not touching Eddie anymore. Eddie takes a small step back, fidgets with the dishrag he still had in his hands as Buck starts to make his way to the living room, picking up his jacket, “you get to pick him up after, and already I left you guys some leftover stew for tonight's dinner in the fridge," Eddie keeps his eyes on Buck while he talks, takes a few steps closer to his friend, but not close enough. "I have a sixteen-hour today, so you tell Christopher goodnight for me, alright?”

“Of course,” his voice is too tight, and it must show because Buck bites his lip and reaches out his hand again, but doesn’t touch. At that moment Christopher burst back into the living room and yells out as if Buck isn’t right there to hear him.

“I’m ready, Buck!”

With a last smile, Buck turns to the door, putting on his shoes quickly and pulling his bag out of the hallway closet. Eddie leans down to place a smooch on his son’s cheek, which makes him laugh, and throw his head back with a loud “Bye, dad!” in his ear.

“Alright buddy, let’s go, let’s go!” Buck exclaims and Christopher bolts out the door, followed by his Buck, and Eddie stays at the threshold until he can’t see the Jeep past the corner of the street.

It’s barely eight o’clock and he still has chores to get done before PT, but Eddie just drops facefirst into the heap of blankets on top of the couch, drowning in the smell of his family and he aches for the picture he saw earlier that morning, sleep falling slowly over him like another blanket. A short nap is calling his name from the dream world, and the last thing he sees before going under is his pillbox for the pain meds next to a bottle of water, a pink post-it note stuck on the tag, big bold letters were carefully written on it. I know you forget but please take these before leaving home! xx. Buck.

Eddie falls.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

title: the next step is love

summary: Modern AU - It’s Sakura’s birthday, and after the party, she’s left to take care of the mess of dirty plates and glasses. Luckily, she’s not alone, but he can’t really stay forever, right?

a/n: Okay, this story was supposed to have come out way earlier, but I changed the plot so many times that I just couldn’t finish it for her birthday... The original idea was so different, and perhaps, I end up writing it another time when the inspiration strikes again (seriously, it was a nice one). Anyway, I hope you can still enjoy this one! As always, my fluff side took over me and I just had to make something simple and domestic for the Queen’s bday! Hope you enjoy it, and please, let me know what you think! (also, this is un-betta’d. I wanted to post this asap because I’m working on a different project, so... bear with me)

.

“Thank you for coming! ‘Careful on your way home!”

The sound of the door clicking shut reverberates across her entire apartment, and it only takes one second for that smiley expression to fade from her face. Her right hand is still placed over the door-knob, and for a brief moment, she closes her eyes, letting out a deep sigh in pure contentment. The last guests are finally on their merry way home now, and at last, she can stop worrying about things such as making sure no one’s feeling left out or re-filling toilet paper. Even if they’re all good friends, her perfectionist mind can’t simply allow her to enjoy the night without worrying about those details.

After turning the key, her hand moves to massage the back of her neck, and finally, she sets her toes free from her black heels. A mix of relief and calmness spreads all over her body, as a soft smile takes over her cherry-colored lips. This, perhaps, might be her favorite part of her birthday parties— or any party, for the matter— because, right now, she can finally savor all the things she's prepared for the night. The food, the decoration, the soothing music...

Oh, what a dream, she thinks, at first, before looking around with her lazy eyes and frowning at the scene. If only all of that mess could magically disappear by the time she wakes up tomorrow morning.

A sigh escapes her lungs as she makes her way back to the center of the hurricane that is her living room. Just like last year, she starts wondering why on earth she let Ino convince her to host her own birthday party instead of going out for a couple of drinks like most people do. Though the pinkette really enjoys having her friends over for a couple of hours, she can’t deny that the day after March 28th is probably the most tiring of the year. Sakura knows she's barely gonna get any sleep tonight, and by the time her alarm goes off around 5:30, she will certainly need at least 1 liter of coffee in order to go through her shift without falling asleep.

In theory, she could leave all that mess for tomorrow, sure, but thanks to her cleaning compulsion, that’s not really an option for her.

If only she could be a little more like Naruto...

Still, as she shakes her pink head, Sakura decides there’s no use in thinking about it tonight. That’s a problem for her future-self, and even if she’s probably going to regret that decision in the morning, right now, this is her moment. She can drink a full glass of champagne while eating another piece of her strawberry cake, and the best part is that she can do it all while enjoying the company of the only one whose presence will never be a bother to her.

Once she finally reaches her kitchen, the pinkette is fast to register the dirty dishes laying around the counter. There are way more glasses than the number of people she invited for the party, but for a brief moment, she forgets that she’s the owner of that mess. Her emerald eyes automatically drift towards the sink, and her heart skips a beat at the scene playing in front of her.

Not even in her wildest, teenage-ish dreams would she have ever pictured Uchiha Sasuke doing her dishes after her birthday party. Though she knows she’s the one who’s technically responsible for all of that, it’s inevitable for her to be entertained by how focused he seems to be while attempting to remove that lipstick stain from the cup.

How lovely, she ponders, bitting her lower lip in order to suppress a chuckle.

Too bad she can’t just keep watching him for the rest of the night.

“You know, even if I appreciate both your help and the view, you don’t have to do this, Sasuke-kun.” Sakura says, picking up some of the plates laying around and walking towards the sink. She’s standing by his side now, his tall body towering over hers, almost a head taller. The expression decorating his features remains unaltered, and she notices how he slowly moves to give her some space next to him. “You can go rest, if you want.”

“Do you want me to go leave?” He asks, unaltered, while scrubbing another knife.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She answers, grabbing a piece of cloth to dry the cutlery he has already washed. “I just don’t want you to do something you don’t want just because it’s my birthday or anything like that. It’s fine, really. I can do it alone.”

“Hn, It’s faster if we do it together.” He stops, a sly smirk taking over the corner of his lips as he closes the tap. His eyes are on hers, now, and she can feel her chest warming up in response. “Unless you wanna do it all by yourself.”

“Nope.” She says, promptly, handing him another dirty spoon and he’s quick to resume what he was doing. Her eyes watch the way the water runs through his fingers, and oddly, she can’t help but find that amusing. “If you’re willing to help, who am I to say no, right?”

A giggle escapes her lips when she hears the ‘tch’ that escaped from his lips, and eventually, they fall in a comfortable silence that is only disturbed by the clanking of the dishes touching each other. Every now and then, their fingers brush when he hands her the plates, and though she can still feel the sparks, those simple touches are no longer enough to make her blush in embarrassment as they used to.

His touch is no longer a stranger to her skin. His presence and his warmth have long been registered by her subconscious, marking every cell of her body with his constant presence. It’s been over 5 springs since their childish love finally bloomed into a serious relationship, and by now, both Sasuke and Sakura have grown used to one another. It goes beyond carnal desires or any poor excuse for a casual company, for their hearts share a connection deeper than words could ever describe.

Blame it on the fact that they used to be good friends before or even fate itself, but it’s impossible to deny the fact that they’ve reached the apex of their young love-life, to the point where doing the dishes together feels wholesome in ways neither of them can explain. There’s a sense of domesticity and mutual understanding shared in between unspoken words, and perhaps, that’s why it works so well for them as a couple. Even if they’re very different people, with different routines and personalities, they make it work.

They have enough trust, love and companionship to last for a life-time.

And though that should be enough—hell, that should be more than enough— Sakura can’t help but feel that there’s still something missing.

Something she can’t quite pin-point, but something that makes perfect moments lose their magic, for she knows they just won’t last. Even now, as they’re doing the dishes and making small conversation about how the party went, deep inside, her heart is heavy because she knows that once those dishes are clean, it will all be over and she will be left alone in her apartment before midnight strikes.

No matter how hard she tries, their moments together have their life-spawn shortened by the common laws of the universe, for every time there’s that stupid parting moment in which they both have to go separate ways. It’s painful for her to watch him disappear in the distance, and even if he doesn’t really express it with words, she can see the light in his eyes fading whenever they have to say goodbye. It’s always a new ‘good night’ and never a constant ‘good morning’ for them, and after so long, she’s sick and tired of this.

Perhaps, it’s just her tired-self speaking too loud in her head or even the few drinks she had during the party, but tonight, she doesn’t want the world to stand between them. Tonight, Sakura will break the natural laws, not caring about the consequences of finally taking the next step.

It’s still her birthday, after all. That has to count for something.

Her heart is beating faster now that she has made up her mind, and she realizes that she’s shaking when she picks another fork from his hands. She’s swallowing dry, and if not for the make up in her face, she knows he would be able to see a crimson blush decorating her cheeks. It’s now or never, she thinks. And before she has the chance to talk herself out of it, Haruno Sakura decides to act.

“Uhm... Sasuke-kun.” She starts, her voice shaky as his name slips from her tongue. Clearly, she forgot to think about the proper way of actually saying what she wanted, choosing instead to improvise— something she’s never really been good at. “I was thinking... Why don’t you spend the night here? You don’t have to go home after this.”

“Don’t even think about going to sleep, Sakura. You’re not leaving all of this mess to me.”

“Oi, that’s not what I meant!” She scolded him, a pout taking over her expression. “Shannarou, I just don’t want you to go home all alone at such late hours. Besides, is it wrong for a girl to want to stay with her boyfriend for the night?”

“You pervert.” He smirks, earning an elbow to his ribs in response. For someone so small, it’s undeniable that his girlfriend has some sort of abnormal strength people like her shouldn’t possess.

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant either! I just... I just don’t want you to leave, that’s all.”

Her words come out a little too low, but high enough so that he can hear them. Her voice sounded an octave too-melancholic, and perhaps, that was what made him actually take her offer seriously. “Hn, I guess I could. I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I can go home once when you leave for the hospital.”

“Really?” Sakura starts, a smile now threatening to take over her features. Though she still had to convey her real plan, that was already a win. A small one, but a win, nonetheless. “Well, you don’t have to leave that early if you don’t want to. You can just...stay. Maybe even wait for me to get home from the hospital and then we could eat dinner together.”

“What?” His eyes widen at her idea, and right now, she can’t really tell if his surprised expression is good or bad. “Aren’t you going to stay there until late tomorrow?”

“Well, probably, but you can stay here... is that a problem?”

”It’s not really a problem, but... I just don’t want to abuse your hospitality. It’s still your apartment, Sakura.” He scratches the back of his neck, and she could see that he was truly concerned about his manners. His mother has taught him how to be a gentleman, and even if she loves that about him, right now, she wishes he could let loose and just take her offer.

She bites her lower lip at his words, a puff of annoyance inflating her cheeks at his answer. Her boyfriend’s has never been good at reading her signs, and now, when not even she’s understanding them, the pinkette is starting to freak out.

Things are not going as planned— not that she actually planned anything to begin with. Her head is spiraling as she watches the snow-ball being created by her messy words, and slowly, she can feel her chance slipping through her fingers. If she doesn’t say it now, Sakura’s going to miss her opportunity, and who knows what’s going to happen to them. Will they break up? Will he think she’s not interested in a long-term commitment? Will they never do the dishes again?

No, she’s overthinking again. They have a solid relationship that has been built over the years and she’s not going to ruin it all in one night because she’s acting like a coward. She’s a modern, independent woman. A doctor, damn it. She has done a lot of things that were harder than asking her boyfriend to move in with her.

She can do it. She will do it.

“Sasuke-kun!” Her voice is determined now, her eyes filled with a different fire in them. This is it. No backing out now. “I need to ask you something important. It’s about our future together.”

“Okay... I’m listening.” He states, a little taken aback by her sudden burst. He stops what he’s doing, his dark irises now looking into her emerald ones. They’re holding a certain hope in them, and if anything, she was not expecting him to be paying that much attention to her. She’s feeling pressured by them, intimidated even. Her knees are shaking, her lips are trembling and her mind is suddenly blank.

She can’t do it. Nope. Not with those eyes staring into her soul.

“I-I... I...” Her heart is beating faster, and she feels like it will burst out of her chest any minute now. She’s going to faint, she can tell it.

“What is it, Sakura?”

“I-I...” She swallows, then, sighing as courage escapes her body. The pinkette has chickened out, finally opting for her ever-reliable plan B. “Naruto is an idiot, right?”

“... Yes.” He starts, his brows furrowing in confusion. “But what does that have to do with our future?”

“E-Everything! I mean, did you see how drunk he was tonight? Thank god Sai offered himself to take him home tonight, but we can rely on that forever. As his best friends, we have to do something about it. He lives far from both of us and we need a plan whenever we have a drinking night together.”

A moment of palpable tension grows between them, and right now, she’s sure he can hear her heart beating like crazy inside her chest. I’m an idiot, she thinks, holding back the urge to lower her head and cry. Sakura has just ruined everything, and right now, she’s going to have to pretend to actually care about where Naruto crashes when he’s drunk just so her boyfriend doesn’t think she’s completely crazy.

Ugh, those damn eyes of his. Why do they have to be so *freaking beautiful?

Thankfully, they can also read her like an open book.

“Hn, you’re right.” He says, finally breaking the silence that surrounded them. His voice is calm and understanding, as always, and she can feel her heart settling down at that. If anything, at least, his reaction isn’t bad or anything. “I guess we will have to have a spare room for him when we move in together.”

“Yeah, sure. A spare room when we—“ Her mind stops. Her hands freeze while holding the cloth and her green eyes widen. Her lips part slightly, but no word dares coming out of them.

Did he... Did he just say what she thinks he said?

She doesn’t know what kind of face she’s making right now, but if anything, she’s completely dumbfounded by his words. Sure, it’s not like he’s making a move tonight or anything, but he did say the words, right? Move in together. The three words she was trying so hard to get out of her chest, simply rolled out of his tongue as if it is the most logical thing in the world— and perhaps, it is. He says them in a way as if that decision won’t change their lives forever. As if it won’t affect their routine and the amount of food they have to buy at the grocery store.

It’s a decision that goes beyond a drawer filled with socks or an extra tooth-brush. And even if he sounds as calm as ever, she knows he’s aware of all that, because, if anything, Uchiha Sasuke doesn’t do anything based on impulse. He’s the kind of man who thinks things through and studies every possibility before making a decision.

So that means...

“Sasuke-kun... Are you suggesting that we move in together?”

“Aa.” He nods, no hesitation in his voice. “Weren’t you trying to say the same?”

“I-I... I was?” She says, sounding more like a question, to which he simply quirks an eyebrow in inquiry. If anything, that was not the moment for doubts anymore. “I mean, yes! That was exactly what I was trying to say.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“Is it? Really?” She asks, hope now running through her veins and lighting up her entire system.

“Yes. It’s only natural for people like us, right?”

“Yeah...” He cheeks grow warmer, and her chest suddenly feels lighter. At last, he took the words out of her. “It’s settled, then.”

At last, their days of saying goodbye are counted and now they can enjoy each other from dawn to dusk.

A smile slowly makes its way to her eyes, and she can’t help but switch her attention to him. Sasuke is now looking at her, a soft expression taking over his face. She’s bewildered right now as she looks at the man who will be living with her. Totally and completely marveled, and more in love with him than she has ever been before in her life.

He understands her unsaid words and they share similar ideas regarding their past, present and future.

They are in love, and now, they’re ready to share the same roof above their pretty, little heads.

“You’re still staying with me tonight, right?”

“Tch.You really are a pervert, Sakura.”

He splashes her face with some water from the sink and her giggles fill her kitchen with joy. They’re young and in love, and for now, that’s all they need to take the next step towards their future together.

the end

[bakuhoes-slut234]

Aizawa x reader fluff - Birthday part 1

Aizawa's eyes fluttered open as the light leaked in through the blinds.

He looked around the room, feeling like he's forgetting something.

He looked to his side where Y/N was sleeping peacefully and smiled softly.

She looked so peaceful and relaxed. His heart swelled at the thought that she was his and his only.

His phone dinged, letting know that he has a notification.

He grumbled and unlocked his phone. A message popped up on his screen.

Private chat

Loud Mouth

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAN!!!!!

Let's go out for drinks to celebrate if you and Y/N don't already have something planned.

Aizawa thought for a moment.

' does she have anything planned? ' he thought to himself before replying

She might have planned something. I don't know. We'll see.

I don't expect her to though.

He turned off his phone and got up.

When Mic reminded him that it was his birthday, he was kinda shocked to see Y/N still asleep.

Him and Y/N have been together for 4 years now and every year, on his birthday, he always woke up to breakfast in bed.

He would always say "you don't have to do this" even though it made him feel special that she would get up early just to make him breakfast.

But like any other day, he was the first one up. He hadn't heard an alarm either that would suggest that maybe she slept through the alarm.

' did she forget? ' he asked himself.

The thought made him a little upset but didn't dwell on it.

' maybe she's planning something later rather than this morning ' he thought.

Shota got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He put on his apron and got out the bacon, eggs, and other things he wanted for breakfast.

About 10 minutes later, the soft sound of feets patting against the floor was heard.

Shota turned to see Y/N walking to the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket, smiling sleepily.

"Morning babe" she smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"Hey beautiful. Breakfast is ready" he said and placed two plates of food in the kitchen counter.

He had already cleaned up the mess he made so that he could eat breakfast without caring about dishes.

"Thanks Sho" she plopped the blanket onto the couch and then took a seat at the table.

They both ate in silence for a while, just like normal. Today though, the silence seemed to bother Aizawa.

"What are we doing today?" He asked, finally breaking the silence to find out if she planned anything.

"Could you run some errands for me today, I'm a little behind on work and need to catch up before the boss gives me another written warning?" She asked.

Shota froze for a moment.

' has she actually forgotten? '

While he didn't really mind if all they did was stay at home and watch movies, he at least expected her to say " happy birthday"

A frown settled on his face.

"Sure, what errands?" He grumbled.

Y/N noticed his suddenly sour mood but chose to ignore it.

"I just need you to buy groceries and deliver a few things. Would you be okay with that?" She asked and he nodded.

He finished his breakfast and put his plate in the dishwasher.

"I'm gonna get dressed" he mumbled and headed towards the bathroom.

Soon, Aizawa came back into the kitchen and saw Y/N had moved to sit on the couch, cuddled up in her blanket again.

He frowned. "See you later" he said

All he got in response was a wave, she didn't even turn face him.

Aizawa slammed the door as he left and his phone dinged.

Private chat

Kitty Kat

Here's the list of things I need you to do:

* Attachment sent *

His eyes widened when he saw how long the list was.

"Fuck sakes Y/N. That's a lot" he grumbled to himself.

~

As soon as Y/N clicked the send button, she jumped up from her spot on the couch and ran down the hall.

The list that she sent should keep him busy for a couple hours while she set up.

She picked up on the fact that he was upset this morning and felt bad that she had caused it.

She knew he didn't expect her to do much, he liked simple things. Like movies and juice pouches but she always tried to make his birthday special.

Everything was going according to plan.

Wake up late. Check.

Don't mention his birthday to him. Check.

Send him to do errands. Check.

' forget ' his birthday. Check

Feel guilty for not making breakfast. Check.

Now she needed to set up and get dressed.

She quickly pulled out a small, portable table that they used when they went camping that one time and put it into a large bag.

In the bag, she also put a black table cloth, red table runner ( those coloured, narrow cloths they put in the middle of a table that goes from one end to the other), two wine glasses and two plates wrapped in bubble wrap, two knifes, forks and spoons.

She packed a lot of candles and a lighter.

Once that was done, she put on her shoes and ran out the house.

She made a b-line for the gazebo at the beach. She had to bring her own table because the gazebo at the beach didn't have one. She had asked Hawks to make sure that no one takes it before she was able to set up and to watch it while she gets herself ready so no one steals her stuff.

Once she got to the gazebo, she set up the table and put on the table cloth and table runner, two plates, glasses and cutlery.

She then placed a few candles on the table and around the table. Once that was done, she made a pathway from the gazebo, leading about 10 metres away.

That all took about 2 hours to set up since she had to run and get more candles when she was only halfway done with the path. By now it was lunch time.

She found Hawks approaching her with a goofy smile.

"Hey baby birdie. How's it coming along?" He asked.

"It's going good. Shota seemed a little upset this morning but didn't say anything. " He huffed.

"Oh well, he's in for a treat tonight"

"Yeah. Can you hold onto the lighter? I'll text you when it's time to light the candles." She said and handed him the small object.

He nodded and watched as she ran off.

Y/N ran back the apartment and started cooking. She quickly cooked some Udon and put it in a special container that keeps the food hot.

By then, it was already 4pm.

"Shit. This is taking longer than expected." She grumbled.

Thankfully, Mic had said that he would distract Aizawa and to text him when he could finally let the poor man go home.

Y/N ran down to the beach and put the container of food down on the table.

"Hey chicken. Text me when you want me to set up the food, okay?" Hawks said as he approached her. She nodded and quickly ran to the flower shop near by and bought some roses.

She handed them to Hawks, knowing that he knew what to do with them when she gives him the ok.

She then ran home and got dressed into her usual every day clothes, just a little nicer.

She didn't want to dress up all fancy with the risk of him catching on that she was planning something.

She blushed at the thought of what she was really planning other than dinner.

She pulled out a beautiful black lacey bra with matching panties and put then on. Then she flipped on a pair of suspenders to hold up the long, black sleek socks that she out on.

She always wore black so none of this was too new.

The next part is what made her really blush.

She pulled out a small device from another bag.

I'm her hand was two things. One, being a small vibrator and the other being a remote.

She quickly but carefully slipped the small object into her, sucking in a deep breath as she did so.

She then put on a flowy lace dress that ended at her mid-thigh and stuffed the remote into her handbag.

As she was walking out the door, she slipped on her shoes and left.

Her phone dinged on her bedside table.

Private chat

Radio Rebel

HEY!!!!

Listen, I can't hold Aizawa for much longer. He's getting grumpy and wants to go home. He looks really mad.

Ok, just stall him for five more minutes please

You got it

Y/N turned off her phone and ran out the door she needed just one more thing.

She ran to the nearest costume shop and bought a pair of black, fluffy cat ears and then ran home.

As she was about to put the key in the hole, she noticed the door was unlocked.

' dammit ' she thought.

She slowly opened the door to see Aizawa standing in the kitchen, leaning against the table with his arms crossed.

"H-hey babe" she smiled nervously.

He just grunted in response.

"Thank you for running errands for me"

"Where were you? I thought you had work to do." He narrowed his eyes.

"I did. I just needed to run to the store and get tampons real quick. I forgot to put it on the list and didn't know when you would be back." She lied easily.

"Whatever. Here's your crap you wanted me to get" he said and motioned to the packets in the table behind him

Y/N smiled and then ducking into their room to place the day ears in her draw.

She walked back to the kitchen and saw a still grumpy Aizawa.

"What's wrong with you today?" She asked.

Aizawa's attention snapped to her, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Why's wrong with me!? What's wrong with you?" He yelled. "I've been running around all day doing errands for you can cooked you breakfast, none of which I mind doing on any given day except for today! It's my birthday for fucks sakes and you didn't even say ' happy birthday'. I don't expect much except just a simple ' happy birthday' " he huffed, clearly pissed the hell off.

"Aizawa, I swear, I didn't forget" Y/N mumbled.

He just clicked his tongue.

"Get dressed into something comfy. We're going somewhere" she said, seeing as it was now dark out.

"Don't say that just because you feel bad" he grumbled

"I'm not. Just shut up, and get dressed. I have a surprise for you. Fucking dumbass" she said, mumbling the last part soft enough that he didn't hear her.

As he grumbled his way into their bedroom, Y/N pulled out her phone.

Private chat

Birdie

Set up now. Aizawa is grumpy and ready to kill me. We'll be there in about 20 mins

Yes, chicken nugget, ma'am

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy Pt. 3

Hilariously, it is thunderstorming like a mofo right now, so I’m going to pretend that Thor is giving his approval on this utter trash. Many thankings to @mindthelspace for reading an early version of this drivel around the campfire.

Around 3,600 words. Follows on directly from Pt. 2. Some unhappy discussion of y/n’s past, some feeding, body worship, and sexy shower shenanigans, but no actual sex, because I am the worst. That’s planned for Pt.5. Or Pt.4 if I decide to stop teasing everyone.

Hand in hand, the two of you sauntered from the bedroom, Thor’s large paw completely enveloping yours. You spied the Pop-Tarts spread forlornly in pieces and moved to tidy them up. Bending over, you offered Thor an excellent view, and he could feel himself become aroused imagining you face down, arse up on his bed.  

The smell of the Pop-Tarts hit his nose as you walked past him to the kitchen and his stomach let out a thunderous rumble.

“You go ahead and get cleaned up, I’ll have lunch ready when you’re done,” you offered.

“I was rather hoping you’d like to shower with me,” Thor said with a shy smile.

“Alright, so food first, then a shower?”

“An excellent plan,” Thor agreed. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Oh no, I’m fine, thank you. You can just talk to me keep me company.”

You filled a pan with water and set it on the hob to boil. Lunch was going to be macaroni cheese. Nothing fancy but enough to keep Thor satisfied. Not that he was willing to wait. He busied himself laying the table and taking the pitcher of water from the fridge, before settling down with the remains of last night’s pizza. You were surprised he’d grabbed the water instead of a beer but chose not to comment.

“Tell me about yourself, y/n,” he said through a mouthful.

“What’s there to tell? I’m a person and I’m here,” you responded guardedly.

“You know. Where are you from? Why did Valkyrie find you wandering along the road?” Thor pressed, seemingly oblivious to your tone of voice.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know who I’m going to make love to.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m going to let you.” Then, seeing Thor’s face fall, you added. “You’re right, of course. I am going to let you but I think we need to address the problem of protection. I don’t think my condoms will accommodate you.” You nodded your head towards his crotch in emphasis.

“That’s not a problem. I’m a god of fertility as well as thunder. I won’t give you a child unless you desire one.”

“That’s an...interesting combination of powers. But what about infections? Diseases?”

“Asgardians are immune to all terrestrial diseases.”

You added the pasta to the pan and looked at him, trying to ascertain if he was serious or if this was an elaborate way of getting out of wearing a rubber.

“You have my word,” he assured, sensing your thoughts.

“Fine. But,” you said, waving a wooden spoon at him, “I will find several interesting ways to exact my displeasure on you should I find out you’ve been bullshitting me.”

“I have no doubt about that,” then, he added ruefully, “My brother would’ve liked you.”

Turning back around, you saw the time. You were late taking your meds. That would explain your tetchiness.

“Sorry Thor, I get a bit arsey when I don’t take my tablet on time. May I have a glass of water, please?”

Wordlessly he brought you a glass and gave your shoulders a gentle squeeze as you swallowed your tablet. You continued cooking in silence, using Jarlsberg to make the cheese sauce.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t answer your question. Like I said to Brunnhilde, I’ve just been travelling around pretty much since the snap, doing odd jobs and trying to see the world.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t stay as I was, it was too painful. Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

“What did you do before the Valkyrie picked you up?” Thor asked as he sat back down at the table.

“I worked in a bar in Oslo.”

“Ah! You were a serving wench.”

“Something like that. The landlord tried it on with me. Tried to take liberties,” you clarified for Thor. “So I left.”

Thor’s blue eye darkened from aquamarine to sapphire, as a storm seemed to gather across his face.

“That’s no way to treat a lady. I should go there and teach him a lesson,” he growled.

“Easy there. I appreciate the sentiment but I don’t think it’d be good publicity for New Asgard if the king went to Oslo to beat up a publican.”

“I’m not king,” Thor insisted.

“Ok, but you’re still the face of your people.” A very handsome, comfortable-looking face, one that would be fun to sit on, you thought. “Besides, I gave Soren a swift kick in the knackers on my way out, so hopefully I bruised more than just his ego.”

Thor roared with laughter at this. You were so small and delicate in comparison to him but he had no doubt that you could defend yourself ably if provoked, like a cat whose tail’s been pulled.

“Sorry this isn’t very interesting,” you said as you brought the hot pan of pasta to the trivet on the table. “I was aiming for something easy.”

“Don’t apologise,” Thor replied. “It smells delicious.”

He scooped some into a bowl and handed it to you, before serving himself.

“This is the best macaroni cheese I’ve had,” he said after inhaling a large mouthful. You couldn’t understand how he could eat it when it was so hot - you were blowing on your fork, trying to avoid burning your mouth on the cheesy lava.

“Have you had much macaroni cheese?” you asked.

“Oh yes, Rhodey made it all of the time at the base.”

“Well, next time I go shopping, I’ll make sure I get some sweet chili crisps. Growing up, my dad used to make macaroni cheese but instead of cutlery, we used to scoop it up with sweet chili crisps.”

“I think I’d like that.” It was the first time Thor had heard you offer some kind of information about your family, so he decided to press to see what more you’d tell him. “Is he still around, your dad?”

“He is now.”

Ah, so he’d been dusted. You didn’t seem too happy about the fact that he was back. Thor would dearly love to have one of his parents or his brother here. They’d know how to help Asgard.

“Have you seen your father since...you know?”

“Only via Skype. It’s been hard to adjust. For five years, I thought my family was dead. And then they were back, like nothing had happened. They know I’m in Scandinavia but I don’t like to get into specifics. They’d try to visit and I’m not sure I can face them.”

“But they’re your family.”

“Yes, they are. But I lost them, I mourned them, I tried to move on with my life. Dead people should stay dead.”

“I’ve watched my brother die a couple of times.It never got any better but I was always so pleased to learn that he wasn’t really dead. I keep praying to the Norns that he’s still out there somewhere.”

“I can understand that but it took me a long time to get to the point of being able to accept what happened. Some days I still can’t accept it at all. I lose the love of my life. Even now there are things I see, jokes I think of, that I think ‘Alex would love that’ but then I remember that Alex is dead. It’s selfish and it’s greedy but Alex was my world. All the other losses and problems I could’ve coped with, maybe, but not that one. My parents didn’t live through it, it hasn’t sunk in for them. They’re forever asking me how Alex is. Dead. That’s how Alex is. I went through that alone. And now other people are reunited with the love of their life and I’ll never have that. I’ve got a bunch of people I mourned, who today, next month, ten years time - whenever - are going to die again. It’s easier for me not to acknowledge that they’re alive again.” You rubbed your ring finger throughout, shame flooding through you at how you’d tried to forget it all with strong booze and meaningless fucks.

Watching the tears and snot running down your flushed face, Thor didn’t think he could feel any guiltier. You’d lost the person that meant everything to you because he hadn’t gone for the head. He’d thought that after the second snap, everything would be good again. Apparently not.

“It’s not your fault, Thor,” you choked out. “I’m not ungrateful to have some of my loved ones back, but it’s hard to pretend that everything is great. It’s like I said yesterday, a lot of damage was done.”

“What happened to Alex?” he asked tentatively.

“Lorry driver got snapped. Lorry kept going and hit the front of Snappy Snaps. That always seemed oddly apt. It’d almost be funny if it wasn’t so sad,” you said with a strange smile.

Having seen the beer lorry Brunnhilde drove, Thor knew and average human would stand no chance against that amount of machinery. He desperately wanted to hug you but was aware of the cum crusted onto his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Is there anything I can do?”

You sat for a moment in silence, poking at the pasta. Funnily enough, you weren’t hungry anymore. You slid out of your chair and padded over to Thor, perching on one of his thick thighs. Burying your face in his chest, you let the tears fall. Not the pretty tears they cry in films but horrible, noisy sobs that wracked your entire body. Everything you’d tried to forget over the years rose to the surface, an eruption of sorrow that could no longer be contained. Thor held you close to him, stroking your hair, his softness and warmth comforting you until you quieted.

“We’re a right pair, crying and snotting at each other,” you said, before wiping your nose on your arm. “I know I needed to get it out but I’d rather you hadn’t seen it.”

On the contrary, Thor was glad that it had happened. It made him feel less alone. Of course, he knew other people were hurting but he never saw any proof of it. You were so raw and vulnerable, it was like he was only truly seeing you for the first time. Everything was a mask, and armour you wore to protect slow-healing wounds and prevent new ones. And now you had bared to him. He wanted to do everything he could to ensure your heart was never hurt so much again. He was about to scoop you up and carry you to the bathroom, when you reached for his spoon, shovelled up a heap of pasta, and brought it to his mouth.

“I’d hate for you to miss out on the best macaroni cheese because of me,” you said.

Thor let you feed him. His compliment about your cooking had obviously stuck and he didn’t want to disappoint you. Once you’d fed him all of his bowl, he brought the pan towards you both and let you feed him until it was all gone. Thor felt a little ashamed that he’d eaten so much when you’d had so little, but you seemed content, rubbing small circles on the top of his stomach. For whatever reason, you seemed to like that part of him, so he squashed the urge to remove your hand.

“Shall we get ourselves cleaned up?” he asked.

“I need to wash up the pan first,” you said, shifting away from Thor,

“No, no. I’ll sort that tomorrow. Today is a day off for you. I want you to relax, not worry about work.”

You nodded mutely and this time he did scoop you up and carry you to the bathroom.

“Oh wow,” you gasped when you saw yourself in the mirror. Your face was a mess but it was nothing compared to your neck. Thor had well and truly left his mark. Good thing you had a scarf at the hut. The marks you’d left on him weren’t quite as impressive but he looked pleased as he stood beside you, trying to remove cheese sauce from his facial hair.

“I fancied a shower to wake myself up more, I hope that’s ok?” he asked, extending his hand. You took it and followed him, grabbing a bottle of body wash from the cupboard. Much like the bath, the shower was far larger and grander than an average one. Thor stepped in and turned on the powerful rainfall showerhead, turning his face up towards the spray.

“C’mon,” he said, beckoning you in. You copied him and let the water hit your face, flowing where the tears had flowed not that long ago. Thor took your hands in his and you stood there in silent reverie, as though the steamy shower could cleanse not just your body but your soul.

“I believe I offered you some more worship,” you said, at last, the smirk returning to your face.

“You did, yes,” Thor replied, mirroring your smirk. You poured a generous amount of the body wash into your hand and began to clean down the length of his body, working out the knots in his back and down the backs of his thick legs. Thor shuddered, despite the warmth of the water, as you pressed yourself against his back. He could feel your nipples running over his damp skin, could feel the warmth building between his thighs. You slide around him to clean his front, feeling the buried muscles of his arms and lavishing attention and kisses as you worked your way down his torso. Your lips pressed against the plum bruise on his thigh elicited an excited moan and he cleaned himself as you worked down to his feet.

“I’d like to return the favour, if I may?” he said, as you stood back up. You nodded and passed him the body wash.

Although his hands were more used to handling an axe, he was amazingly gentle and attentive, running his fingers with care over the evidence of this morning’s passion. When he got to your breasts, it was like he was lost in a trance, cupping and kneading, coating them in a thick lather. Eventually, he stopped cleaning them and just held a breast in each hand, looking at them like they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Realising he was lost in thought, you moved away, bending your knees so that your chest was level with his aroused cock. You guided him between your breasts, slowly sliding him between the soapy flesh you held together to grip his erection.

“Fuck,” he moaned, pressing a hand against the marble tiles to steady himself as you literally made him weak at the knees. You let him have a couple of thrusts before standing back up. Thor pursed his lips, trying to swallow his frustration.

“Did you like that, bear?” you asked in mock innocence, languidly rubbing your breasts against his belly, hard nipples dragging across his soft flesh.

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, wondering if he should pin you against the tiles and take you just to end your teasing.

“I think you’re going to like this more,” you said, sliding down to your knees. You washed the suds off Thor’s cock, and with a quick prayer to any god apart from the one in front of you to not choke, you slowly eased him into your mouth. You teased his head with slow sucks before flicking your tongue across the ridge between his head and his shaft. You could hear him wheezing above you and decided to press on, taking more of him into your mouth, your tongue trailing up and down in firm movements that drew further gasps. You didn’t focus your attention in any one particular place, although Thor seemed to especially enjoy it when you licked the underside of his shaft, growing noticeably louder when you strummed across his frenulum. Your childhood penchant for Twister lollies certainly had its uses.. His soft stomach was a welcome cushion but it impeded what you wanted to do. You pursed your lips around him, pressing your tongue firmly against his shaft, slowly withdrawing with a teasing flick over his head.

Looking up, you could see Thor was bracing himself with one hand still, other stroking his nipple. His face was flushed, not just from the heat of the shower, and he opened his blue eye to look down at you. You gave him a mischievous grin before lifting his stomach with one hand and returning to pleasuring him. It was going to take some work but you were determined to have him. All of him. Wisdom teeth had made it harder to accommodate larger guys but you could still do it. His thickness caused your jaw to ache but you continued your journey, lubricating your path with insistent swipes of your tongue. You knew you were getting close and took one large breath through your nose, before taking the rest of him.

“Oh fuck,” you heard Thor roar, his legs trembling as your buried your nose into his soft, sandy pubes. Fighting back the urge to gag and feeling your eyes begin to water, you knew you couldn’t stay here for long. You ran your tongue clockwise around the base of his shaft, then back the other way. Your free hand cupped his balls and you ran your thumbnail over them, your fingernails dragging down his inner thigh. You weren’t sure if it was the pressure building in your ears, the shower or Thor, but everything was very loud. You pulled back just enough for some air then moved back for more. Each time you retreated a little further for air before taking him deeply again.

Thor desperately wanted to fuck into your mouth but he was so impressed by how well you were taking him, he didn’t dare disrupt your rhythm. He could count on one hand the number of people who’d achieved that particular feat. He chose instead to stop playing with his nipples and moved his hand to the back of your head, fingers gripping onto your hair, possessive but not forceful.

You could tell he was getting close by the trembling of his thick thighs and the increasing shortness of his pants.

He tried to warn you, he really did. But instead of words, all that came out was an incoherent roar and that was drowned out by an almighty clap of thunder. You swallowed him with pleasure, licking him clean and sending a tremor through his body. You sat back and let go of his tummy, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

Came to the shower to get clean and ended up even dirtier, you mused, as you looked up at Thor with heart eyes and a saccharine smile.

Nobody had looked at him that way in years. His heart was hammering like a mini  Mjölnir in his chest. The Norns only knew why you liked him so much but he was grateful they’d brought you to him. He scooped you up and pressed you against the tiles, one hand supported you under each thigh. He pressed against you, tasting himself in your mouth.

You wound your hands into his hair, enjoying the weight of him constricting your breathing, a warm, hairy man-corset. Eventually, you had to come up for air and gave his braid a sharp yank.

“Oh, oh sorry. I forgot my size. Did I hurt you?” he worried as you gasped against his shoulder.

“No, no. I was rather enjoying it, I just sometimes need to breathe.”

“Perhaps we should continue this in my bedroom?” he suggested, setting you back down and turning off the water.

“Sure,” you said, slapping his ample arse on the way past.

You began drying yourself when you realised Thor was loitering behind you.

“May I?” he asked and you handed him the towel. He gently patted you dry, lingering on his favourite areas, before letting you return the favour. He was so soft and fluffy, a giant teddy bear grinning goofily down at you.

“Shall we?” he said, extending a hand to you. You slipped a hand into his massive paw and began to leave the bathroom, trailing slightly behind him.

Lucky for you that Thor was so big. He’d barely made it through the door when he stopped dead in his tracks

“Thor! Cool thunderstorm bruv. Ready for some Fortnite?” came the unmistakable voice of Korg.

Thor’s hands shot forward to cover himself.

“Er, this isn’t really a good time buddy…”

You can’t see what’s going on but presumably, Korg has now turned to look at Thor because the next thing you hear is:

“Woah! Where are your clothes? And what happened to your neck? Was it y/n Do I need to fight her?”

“I just had a shower. And no, please don’t fight her.”

“Well, where is she?”

“I’m here,” you said, peeking your head around Thor, hugging him from behind.

“Oh my god. Were you two…? Well, good for your bruv. Y/n, do you want to play Fortnite too?”

This is ridiculous, Thor thought. For the first time in years, I have the chance to fuck a beautiful woman, and being cockblocked by a guy made of rock.

“Uh, yeah. Like I said, this isn’t really a good time...I was hoping to spend some time with y/n. Alone. Maybe you and Miek could go to the beach, or the tavern or literally anywhere that’s not here for a bit,” Thor suggested.

“Aw man, ok. But you’ve got to make it stop raining first.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

Korg and Miek lumbered off and once the front door was shut, you burst out laughing. Perhaps Thor might want to start locking his door after all.

@morganhoran1671 @innerpaperexpertcloud

[knittedkikwi]

I found a solo rpg!

So, Mark Hulmes has been playing Ironsworn on his personal stream because it has the ability to support solo play. I finally took some time to watch a little bit of it and, me being me, jumped right into my own campaign. I had this idea of finding out what happens if you make a character with no past. Could you come up with a coherent story for someone starting with amnesia? Solo play relies a lot on you rolling on random generator tables and then making them fit into the situation. Could this be used to reveal a character’s past or would it just turn out crazy. I’m gonna try it and post it here. I’m writing out the campaign as I go as if I were writing a story (with random inserts of the rolls I’ve made so I can remember what I’ve actually done.). I’ve written up her story so far below the cut if anyone’s interested. Be warned, it’s long and I am not a writer. Let’s see how this experiment goes, shall we?

The first thing Mira noticed as she awoke was the complete lack of light. The second thing was the staleness of the air. It was getting harder to breathe and she was starting to panic. Adrenaline surged through her as she took stock of her surroundings. There was something heavy resting on top of her and her hands were wrapped around it. It seemed to be poking her palm, so she released it and started feeling outward. It was a small space, the walls felt like wood. Mira brought her arms up and braced them against the top panel of this box. Using all the strength she could summon, Mira pushed upwards. After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the panel moved. Dirt cascaded down on her as she continued to push. Coughing, Mira sat up and looked around. She was in a cheap pine box, whose top was about four inches below ground. Someone had buried her, but she didn’t know who, or why, or even where she was. Come to think of it, she didn’t know who she was either. She knew her name was Mira, but nothing else.

Mira sat there a while longer to get her breathing under control before attempting to stand. When she did, something heavy fell from her lap with a sold thunk. Her glance down revealed a battle axe, the hand worn smooth with use, the blade showing wear but the edge razor sharp. She frowned. A handle that smooth shouldn’t have been poking her hand, so what had she felt earlier. Mira picked up the axe the axe with ease, despite it being quite heavy. There, hidden under the axe’s head, was a piece of paper. It was folded small enough that it could easily have fit in her palm. She picked it up and unfolded it, revealing writing on the inside.

“Mira-

You must flee. You are no longer safe here. I will catch up with you when I can.

-        R”

Odd. The confirmation of her name was reassuring, but she couldn’t remember where she was running from. And who was this R she was supposed to meet? She started rifling through her clothes to see if there were any other notes. Unfortunately, she was only wearing a simple dress that she supposed had been cream colored, before the dirt bath, and a green cloak. The cloak caught her interest. Symbols she did not recognize were embroidered all over it in black thread. What could that mean? Mira supposed the only way to find out was to find a village and start asking questions. Now if only she knew which way the village was…

Mira wandered the woods for hours before she was found by an elf named Dotani Kerihu. They were surprised to see her, but showed her compassion nonetheless. They traveled with her for a month, teaching her how to hunt and navigate the area she now knew was called the Deep Wilds. Dotani showed her how to craft a simple shield, light a fire, set snares, and, eventually, how to befriend animals. Mira seemed to have a special affinity for owls and manage to convince one to travel with them. She named it Gabriel, though she does not know why.

She doesn’t know why she does a lot of things. Her axe, for example. When Dotani was trying to show her how to split wood for a fire, Mira was immediately able to choose the precise point on the log to split it cleanly into two. When her axe stuck into the stump they were using as a base, she was able to wrench it free as if she had done it hundreds of times. Dotani let her borrow the whetstone he used on his daggers one evening. Before he even had a chance to start explaining what it was or how it worked, she was running it along the edge of her axe with the ease of someone well versed in the practice. She found herself going through what she assumed were training stances every night. She wished she knew where she learned them. Dotani seemed impressed with her form, finding very little to correct.

Eventually, Dotani lead her to the edge of the Wilds. They explained that due east was a large village named Grimtree. It was safe and she would likely be able to find work there. Hopefully she would be able to find answers. He gave her a token before they parted, a small wooden circle with a symbol carved on it. They explained that should she ever return to the Wilds and need Dotani’s help, find someone and show them that token. Then Dotani disappeared into the dense forest and Mira headed off on the first leg of what would hopefully be the journey to her past.

Mira stumbled into town, nervous about what she might find. What she ended up finding was Sadia Chandra, the owner of the only inn in town. Mira knew she needed someplace to stay and realized she would not have much luck with the general populace once she saw the distrustful looks from the townsfolk. (Not that she could really blame them. She’d washed her clothes as best she could, but they were still stained from her time underground.) So she headed to the Dragon & Raven Lodge to see if she could make some sort of arrangement. That’s where she met Sadia, barking orders at some long suffering waitress while simultaneously getting people room keys or extra blankets. Sadia was a sever woman with a eyes that always made you feel like you’d done something wrong. She nearly threw Mira out when she asked to pay for a room through work. Mira mentally thank Dotani for everything they had taught her as she played up her skills as a hunter and laborer. She was eventually able to convince Sadia to let her stay in exchange for running odd errands and helping at the inn whenever needed. The room wasn’t much, but it was clean and had hot water. Sadia even gave her a sensible set of work clothes (although this might have been because Sadia couldn’t stand that dress. Mira kept it in hopes that it might mean something later on.).

After a month, Sadia even trusted her to make a purchase from the traveling merchant, Themon Kai. He had been in town when Mira arrived, but she hadn’t paid any attention, being rather focused on find someplace safe to stay. Now, she was seeking him out with a couple of silver pieces to hopefully purchase more cutlery for the inn. Themon was easily found, seeing as he wore more elaborate clothing than most of the folks in town and had the voice to match. He was set up in the square, shouting about his wares and laughing with customers as they talked. He seemed to know everyone in town, including Mira somehow. When she approached, he remembered seeing her pass through and remarked that she looked considerably better than last he saw her. Surprised, Mira found herself having a quite enjoyable conversation with him. Looking over his wares for new forks and spoons, Mira spotted some old armor that intrigued her. Themon caught her eyeing it and explained he’d picked it up from an old shield maiden who retired several years ago and no longer needed it. The price was 5 gold pieces, but he might be willing to lower it if she could tell him a good story.

Mira had no money beyond what Sadia had gave her for errands, but she couldn’t get the armor out of her mind. Mira asked Sadia if she could take extra jobs at the inn to earn some money. Sadia begrudgingly agreed (Mira thinks Sadia’s starting to warm up to her, even if she won’t admit it) and Mira started making money for the first time in her life (as far as she could remember, anyway). It took a couple of months, but Mira saved up the 5 gold for the armor. Themon had been through town a few more times and Mira found she really enjoyed his company.

This time, though, she had a mission. She wanted that armor and some extra supplies if possible. When Mira marched up to Themon, he seemed to already know what was on her mind.

“You look as if you intend to purchase some armor!” He said with a smile.

“I do, and some other items if you have them. But first, let me tell you about the first thing I remember.” Mira told him as much as she could about waking up in the grave, befriending an elf, and eventually making her way to Grimtree. She left out the note, sharing that felt a little too personal, but tried to dramatize in a way she knew Themon would enjoy.

By the time she finished, Themon appeared simultaneously delighted and concerned. “You most certainly have had an interesting few months. I believe that story was well worth a discount. Let’s say 3 gold for the armor. And….take care, Mira. If what you just told me is true, you must have run afoul of some very dangerous people. Don’t go charging into adventure foolishly, or you may end up in the same place again, but you won’t wake up that time.”

Mira gave him a nod, “I am aware, Themon. Though I may not know why I was there, I intend to not repeat the same mistakes. But I do need to uncover who I am, one way or another.”

“Alright, just so long as you’re careful. If you start traveling, we’ll likely run into each other again. While I stay mostly in the Havens, I have been known to go to more far-flung areas from time to time. Keep me updated and I’ll see what I can do about keeping you supplied.”

“Thank you, Themon. I look forward to it.”

Mira walked back to the inn with her armor, a new knife, some basic provisions, and a plan to start travelling around the Havens in search of her past. The next morning though, bells started ringing as the townsfolk swarmed to center of town. Emelyn Sayer, the Head Woman in town, was standing on the porch of the main hall. She was a cheery woman with a powerful voice and the ability to get her way no matter the resistance. She had lead the town well the past few years and people tended to rely on judgement and level headedness. So Mira was shocked when she saw Emelyn looking frazzled. Emelyn seemed to return to herself after a moment and her voice rang out clearly over the square.

“Townspeople, 140 years ago, when this town was founded, we made an agreement with the Firstborn of the Deep Wilds. We would protect their realm and in exchange we received the Iron Shield to protect us. That shield has hung in the Main Hall ever since to keep us safe from the monsters that roam this land. But now, it has disappeared. Stolen in the night, leaving us exposed. I need a volunteer to find whoever stole the shield and return it to us before the terrors of the land realize we are vulnerable.”

Gasps were heard throughout the crowd as Emelyn spoke. Mira knew of the Iron Shield. It was always hanging behind the Head Woman’s chair. Sadia had told her that it had never rusted and never needed polishing. This was her chance! She could test her skills and her armor now before heading off to find her past.

“I will go!” Mira shouted, “I will find the Iron Shield and bring it back.”

Emelyn looked at her appraisingly and then looked to Sadia. Mira wasn’t sure, but she could have sworn she saw Sadia nod ever so slightly. “Step forth, Mira, and take the Iron Vow.”

Mira worked her way to the front of the crowd, excitement thrumming in her veins. The townsfolk parted for her as she got closer. Those faces that had seemed so distrustful her first day now showed some dawning respect as she pulled her axe from her belt and knelt in front of Emelyn.

“Mira of the Deep Wilds, do you swear to find the Iron Shield and return it to the people of Grimtree?” Emelyn did not state it, but Mira understood what would happen if she failed. The village would be raided and this small community she had started to like would be destroyed.

Gripping the iron of her axe head, Mira made her oath, “I swear to return the shield to its rightful place here in Grimtree, or die in the attempt.”

[danfanciesphil]

too high (can’t come down) by @danfanciesphil

Suspending himself 7,000 feet above the rest of the world seems likely to be a sure-fire way for Dan to escape normality, and isolate himself for the foreseeable future. The Secret of the Alps, a small hotel tucked into the side of the Swiss mountains is too niche for most avid adventurers to have heard of, making it the perfect place for Dan to work as he sorts through his problems. Unfortunately, privacy is a coveted thing, and as Dan soon finds out, the hotel harbours one guest who values it more than most.

Rating: Explicit Tags: Enemies to lovers, snow, mountains, skiing, hostility, slow burn, secrecy, longing, repression, nobility, classism, cheating, eventual sex

Ao3 Link

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Four

The night passes the same way - barely concealed crying, slightly ominous but mostly lovely music to drift him off to sleep - and then morning comes, stark and bright as usual. Dan gets dressed, begs Louise for coffee and sustenance - “did you find him?” “yes” “were you nice?” “I was a peach” “what did he say?” “he said he was sorry for yelling” “aw, told you he was a sweetie deep down” “mmhmm” - and is then rounded up by Mona for breakfast duty.

“I’ve already switched the heaters on and put out the tablecloths,” Mona tells him as he drains the last of his coffee. “Could you just go and put the mugs and cutlery out? I think we’ve only got two tables today.”

“Sure,” Dan says, giving Louise’s arm a small squeeze of gratitude for the breakfast and coffee; she waves a batter-y whisk at him in a shooing motion, but she’s smiling. .

Once he’s armed with a basket of silverware and crockery from the cupboard, Dan heads for the balcony and stops short, noticing that for the first time, someone is already sat out there. Stunned, Dan just stares through the glass at Mr Novokoric, who is transfixed on the blue-shadowed mountains in the distance. Reluctantly, Dan pushes through the doors, bracing himself for the cold, both from the frigid mountain air, and the attitude of his least favourite guest.

The door slams shut behind him, making Mr Novokoric turn. “Good morning,” he says, like an automatic greeting. For some reason - probably the cold and the pre-caffeine kick-in - Dan finds himself a little tongue-tied. He nods at the other man, struggling to hold onto the basket in his hands.

“Morning,” he manages, eyes sticking to the light wind-stung flush on Mr Novokoric’s high cheeks.

Mr Novokoric turns back to the view then, and Dan begins setting out the mugs, knives, forks, spoons and glasses on the tables. He assumes that Mr Novokoric must be one of the two tables having breakfast today, which makes sense, as the Stevens’ left yesterday evening. They’d hugged Dan tightly, promising to return before the year was out. It had, in a way, been rather sad to see them disappearing with Kaspar back down the mountain in the swinging cable car. Mostly Dan is glad that he no longer has to avert his eyes as they walk through the hotel with their omnipresent robes dangerously loose, but they were a parental sort of couple, and he thinks they might genuinely miss him too. Fumbling only slightly, Dan begins to place a setting out in front of Mr Novokoric. As he sets the mug down, Mr Novokoric reaches for it, and frowns as he tilts it towards him.

“Can I get some coffee?”

Dan pauses, flipping the question over in his mind. “Coffee?”

One of those jet black eyebrows springs upwards. “Yes. Is that permitted?”

Dan nods, blushing, and hating himself for it. He takes the mug and scampers off to the kitchen, managing to garble some request to Louise. For some reason his flustered state is amusing to her, and she pretends for a minute or two to have no clue what he’s asking - not helpful - but eventually he gets a mug of filter coffee out of her. He watches, curious, as she automatically adds soya milk and two heaped teaspoons of sugar.

“He’s lactose intolerant,” she says, by way of explanation. “And has a hell of a sweet tooth.”

“I didn’t say who it’s for,” Dan says, perplexed, as he takes the mug from her.

“Who else around here would have you blushing and stammering like a nun at a brothel?”

Dan chooses not to respond to this, mostly because he can’t summon anything except a mortified spluttering sound. He takes the mug of coffee back out to Mr Novokoric, cheeks still a warm pink. It’s just the wind flush though, at this point. Probably. 

“Would you like anything else, Sir?” Dan asks politely. “The chef is still cooking breakfast, but I could perhaps get you some cereal or yoghurt-”

“No, thank you,” Mr Novokoric says sniffily, and Dan replays what Louise just said to him.

“Oh, sorry, you don’t have dairy,” Dan says, shaking his head. Mr Novokoric turns his head sharply back to Dan, frowning. “I could get you some fresh fruit? Or-”

“No,” Mr Novokoric says again, though his voice is less hostile now. “I’m, uh, not hungry.” He pauses, mouth twitching. “...Thanks.”

“No problem.” Dan dithers, uncomfortably aware he now has a wedge of time to kill before the other guests emerge, and no other place to be. “So... um, why are you out here?”

“Excuse me?”

Dan shuts his eyes, cursing silently. “Sorry, I just meant- you’re normally out on the mountain at this time.”

“Oh.” Mr Novokoric sips his drink, looking away.

“Did you not fancy braving the snow today?”

Dan has absolutely no idea why he’s suddenly so intent on keeping this hellish conversation going, given that Mr Novokoric looks like he’d rather pour the coffee over his own head than continue it. Somehow it would be worse to turn away from him though, to stand off to the side and wait for more guests to turn up, arms folded, pretending not to stare as that blank, unhappy glare washed away any animation on Mr Novokoric’s sharp, striking features. So, Dan forces himself to stay rooted to the spot, letting Mr Novokoric’s icy look of contemptuous horror at Dan’s insistence on smalltalk slice through him like he’s snow beneath Mr Novokoric’s boot.

“My ski broke,” he says, unexpectedly.

A flashback hits Dan as abruptly as the cherry-red skis hit the wall of the lobby the day before yesterday. “Oh,” Dan says. “Is there- it can’t be fixed?”

“I highly doubt I’m going to find someone proficient at winter sports equipment repair at the top of this fucking mountain, do you?”

The curse word is shocking, and it takes Dan a moment to let it go. Phil’s accent is slightly Northern, but his diction and use of language is impeccable, presumably due to all the hobnobbing and schmoozing he has to do, as a ‘Royal’. Hearing him swear is what he imagines it would be like hearing the Queen swear. In a sense, it’s rather titillating - another reason Dan should abandon this conversation for good. Luckily, at that moment, the balcony door opens, and Mona ushers the two Bryce sisters through, leading them to the other laid table.

Relieved to see the chattering, marginally irritating middle-aged women for once, Dan excuses himself from Mr Novokoric, who barely bats an eye, and goes to take their breakfast order.

*

In a moment of downtime, while the evening film screening is going on, Dan goes hunting for two cherry-red skis, which he finds near the hotel entrance, leant against the wall. He takes hold of the left one, and examines it closely. Just as Mr Novokoric said, it has a broken appendage - the strap which secures the boot to the ski has come loose. The straps are peculiar to Dan, having no backs to them, but Dan can see where the front part used to fix to the ski itself even so. By comparing it with the other ski, Dan thinks it’s mendable. All too aware that he’s got nothing better to do for the next few hours, Dan takes the ski over to the desk and lays it over his lap as he sits down to take a closer look. 

It’s just because he’s bored, he tells himself as he hunts for tools in Mona’s office, and discovers a tiny screwdriver and screws in one of the cleaning cupboards, along with a pot of superglue. The film is a long one tonight - The Italian Job - so for a few hours Dan is able to work in complete solitude, listening to a faint Muse song through one headphone, and not stopping until the ski is fixed.

*

“I just don’t understand why you’re still holding a grudge against the poor man,” Louise says, scrubbing at a pot with a scourer. Dan, sat up on one of the kitchen counters sipping hot chocolate, rolls his eyes. “He apologised for being rude, didn’t he?”

“Some apology,” Dan counters. Since two days ago in the gym, Dan has convinced himself that Mr Novokoric’s words had been largely to smooth things over with the staff member he’d pissed off, considering that it would be pretty awkward seeing him around the place 24-7 if they were not on speaking terms. In no way, Dan has decided, did Mr Novokoric actually mean what he said. “Just because he’s eloquent doesn’t make him sincere.”

“Ooh-er,” Louise says, flicking washing up water at him. He squeaks, shielding his hot chocolate. “Sounds like he got under your skin.”

Dan’s next sip is too hot, and he burns his tongue.

“Anyway,” Louise says, tipping out the saucepan and laying it out to dry. She starts untying her apron, wearily. “There’s three hours until I’ve got to start on dinner, so I think I’ll have a little lie down. Can you hold the fort for a bit?”

“Uh…” Dan looks through the serving hatch into the empty mezzanine lounge. The Bryce sisters are the only guests staying here at the moment, though another couple are due to check in tonight. Right now, he’s pretty sure the Bryce sisters - an excitable, childlike pair of forty-something women on what they refer to as a ‘girls getaway’ - are in the jacuzzi. If they were anywhere indoors, Dan is certain he’d be able to hear their shrieks of laughter no matter which room they were in. “Sure, yeah. No worries.”

“If you need me, I’m in room three,” Louise says, already on her way to the kitchen door. “But Dan?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t need me,” she warns, and then exits the room.

*

About half an hour later, Dan is in the same position atop the kitchen counter, playing Crossy Road on his phone and polishing off a flapjack from the batch Louise made this morning. Suddenly, a noise like a throat clearing jolts him, and his animated emo goose is hit by a truck. He lowers the phone, head lifting, to see Mr Novokoric at the serving hatch, that cool assessing gaze chilling the temperature of the kitchen by at least two degrees. Dan swallows some flapjack the wrong way, and has to hide a mild choking fit.

In Mr Novokoric’s hand is a mug. “Is Louise here?” he asks.

Dan shakes his head, swallowing his own tonsils to cleat the flapjack from his airway. His eyes water, but he gets down from the counter one gangly leg at a time. “No, sorry,” he croaks. He wipes his hands of flapjack crumbs on a nearby tea-towel. “She’s napping. Can I help?”

Mr Novokoric appears troubled by this news, and takes a moment to reply, as if he’s mulling something over. Eventually, whatever wins out, and he asks, “any chance of some coffee?”

“Oh,” Dan says. “Have you run out of the instant packets in your room? I can find some in the stock cupboard-”

“No-o,” Mr Novokoric interrupts, as if he’s speaking with a half-wit. “I’m not looking for instant coffee. Louise usually makes me a macchiato, if I ask her.”

Dan’s blood runs cold, and he turns to eye the bulky coffee machine sat menacingly on the far counter. “Right,” Dan mutters. “Of course she does.”

Given his past failures to please Mr Novokoric thus far, he doesn’t feel he can say ‘oh, I’m not actually sure how to work this machine, maybe it would be best to wait for Louise to wake up’. So instead, Dan takes the mug, and steps warily over to the machine to attempt something called a ‘macchiato’.

“Caramel macchiato,” Mr Novokoric clarifies, at which Dan turns to blink at him, utterly bemused.

“Mhmm,” he says, for some wild reason. “No problem.”

As he surveys the contraption before him, Dan can feel eyes boring into the back of him - pure judgement coated in an intense, deep blue. He tries his best to ignore the prickle of skin this stare creates, and sets about mimicking what he can remember from watching Louise work the machine. He pours milk into one of the chrome jugs, shoves the spout into it and turns a dial. Droplets of milk immediately fly everywhere, and a monstrous hissing sound emerges from the beast. He quickly turns the dial back, abandoning that for now, and focuses on unfixing one of the espresso-filter-things from its lock. This takes a good two minutes of tugging and silently begging, during which time the milk in the jug seems to develop an appetising skin on top. At last, Dan pulls the thing free, dumps the used granules out and tamps some coffee into it, though he has no idea how much, and probably over-fills it. He does manage to fix it back in place, and over several agonising minutes the espresso drips through into the mug. When he can’t stand the waiting any longer, knowing damn well he’s being scrutinised, Dan takes the mug out, pours a dash of lukewarm milk into it from the jug, and takes it over to the hatch.

It looks.... pretty vile. But he has to hand Mr Novokoric something.

“Uh, here we go. One macchiato.”

He realises in the next moment that he forgot to add any caramel. Not that he’d have any idea where to procure it from in this kitchen. Mr Novokoric looks down at the coffee in Dan’s hand, sends him a look of something like pity, and makes no move to take it.

“Aaand suddenly I can think of nothing better than instant coffee,” he says, nose wrinkling.

He turns away, heading back towards the stairs, leaving Dan with an undrinkable mug of coffee, and a sudden urge to hurl himself off the side of the mountain.

*

“Dan, I need a word,” Mona says, beckoning him into the small office at the back of reception.

It’s early evening, and the neither the Bryce sisters nor the Lautrecs - a quiet French gay couple that arrived an hour or so ago - are interested in an evening film, so there’s fuck all to do. Instantly upon hearing Mona’s words, fear strikes Dan in the chest; he follows Mona into her office, heart in his throat. 

She gestures for him to sit on one of the wicker chairs in front of her desk, so he does, knee jiggling with nerves. “I’m really sorry Mona,” Dan blurts before she’s even sat down. “The job description didn’t say anything about being barista trained. If you received a complaint-”

“I’m going to stop you there, Dan,” Mona says, loudly and shrilly. “I don’t know what you are apologising for, but it’s probably best if I never find out, hm?” 

Gulping down the relief that surges forth, Dan nods emphatically, and relaxes back into the chair. Mona looks a little more polished than usual today, he notes. She has a high-collared white blouse on, which elongates her neck, and a pearl-encrusted scrunchie securing her usual bun. Dan has begun to notice that Mona dresses a bit smarter on the days the mail is delivered, or when new guests arrive, or leave. In other words, any time Kaspar is expected to be around. Kaspar dropped off the Lautrecs earlier, so today is no exception.

Right now she sits at the small desk, hands clasped, and clears her throat. Her cheeks are tinged with rosy pink, probably from Kaspar’s brief visit earlier. The idea of no-nonsense Mona having a teeny crush creates a warm glow in Dan’s chest, and he smiles. “I called you in here because I have some unfortunate news,” Mona says. Dan’s smile quickly vanishes. “I’ve been called away this weekend.”

“Oh,” Dan says, already confused. “Is everything-”

“It’s a personal matter,” Mona tells him, firmly ending his inquiry before it’s begun. “But the timing is poor, what with you having just started, and with it being Louise’s weekend off.”

For a few moments, the implications of this don’t quite settle in. Then, Dan stops being quite so dim. “Wait, do you mean I’d be here alone?”

Mona avoids his eye, neatening some papers on her desk. “I understand that it might seem rather daunting.”

“Mona, I’m nowhere near qualified to run this place on my own,” Dan says in a rush, blood starting to pound loudly in his ears.

Just the thought of such responsibility is crushing; what if he forgot to serve lunch? What if he overslept and nobody was available for the guests? He’s basically a glorified assistant here, he can’t be expected to handle real decisions.

“Dan, it’s just for a couple of days,” Mona says; there’s a pleading tone to her voice that Dan expects doesn’t rear its head very often. “Just until Louise returns on Sunday night. Kaspar can make it up here in a matter of hours if there’s an emergency. But you won’t need him. There’s only one couple booked in to stay, and I doubt they’ll be very high maintenance.”

One couple and a narcissistic rich twat-face whose snobbery extends right down to his coffee order, Dan thinks, but begrudgingly admits to himself that Mr Novokoric is unlikely to be very demanding either. The man seems to keep mostly to himself unless he truly can’t help it. Dan folds his arms across his chest, lip caught between his teeth. He can’t really refuse, particularly as he suspects that Mona is desperate enough to get down onto her stocking-covered knees and beg him. Perhaps he could manage to keep the place afloat without any major screw-ups. But the stress of it all might kill him, even so.

“I know this is completely unfair of me,” Mona tells him, and reaches up to tug the pearl scrunchie out of her bun. The hair spills out, revealing a shoulder-length bob; the sight is so shocking that Dan feels his fingers twitching at his sides, as if he wants to scoop up the loose locks and pull them back into position. Mona runs both hands through the mess of hair, eyes fluttering shut. “I wouldn’t ask unless it were really important. Normally I’d rather drop dead than leave this place in someone else’s hands, even for a day or so, especially without Louise to help. But I just can’t see another option. It’s… it’s my grandmother, you see. She’s ninety-four, and on her last legs-”

“It’s fine,” Dan says quickly. He can’t bear to see her like this; he doubts that even Louise, who’s worked here for four years, has seen Mona with her hair down. Dan’s never even seen Mona in plain clothes. She probably sleeps in her crisp skirt-suits. “I can handle things,” Dan assures her, hoping he has something akin to conviction in his tone, given that he’s speaking out of his ass. “Like you said, it’s just a weekend.”

“I’ll be a phone call away,” Mona promises, eyes reopening in order to look at Dan like he’s Christ arisen. “Thank you, Dan. I’ll remember this.”

*

The following morning, Mr Novokoric is sat at a table on the balcony again, just as Dan is about to set up for breakfast. He already has a coffee in front of him today, Dan notes, cheeks burning when he remembers yesterday’s fiasco. Luckily it’s windy again this morning, so he can blame the pink colour of his skin on that, if asked.

He mutters a “good morning” and starts setting Mr Novokoric’s table, asking him politely to lift his drink so that he can lay a tablecloth down. Dan can feel that hard, ultramarine stare as he sets out a knife and fork he knows will remain untouched - the man seems to live on coffee alone - and tries to resist the urge to spew some garbled apology for yesterday’s macchiato fiasco.

Before he can get it out however, Mr Novokoric speaks. “So, I asked Mona to order me a new phone, and some new skis.”

The last word makes Dan drop a spoon. He bends down to get it, but he’s not quick enough. Mr Novokoric hands it back to him, some curious sparkle hiding beneath his usual stern expression.

“More skis,” Dan echoes, trying not to let his expression droop. So, it seems he’s spent a good three hours of his life fixing a ski that will shortly be replaced. So much for being a good samaritan. “Right. Are you asking me if they’ve arrived? I can check, but I don’t think Kaspar has brought them up yet-”

“Strangest thing, though,” Mr Novokoric interrupts, as though Dan hadn’t been in the middle of a sentence. “I went to throw my old skis away, and there’s nothing wrong with them. The strap’s been mended.”

“Huh,” Dan says, turning back to his basket for a new spoon. He sets it carefully on the table, trying to remain composed. “Weird.”

“Did you fix it?”

Pinned in place by Mr Novokoric’s gaze, Dan feels his face turning from pink to red. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I had no idea you’d already ordered more-”

He breaks off, wary of the strange expression being aimed at him. Mr Novokoric’s eyes have softened, and there’s something close to a smile threatening to break forth. The idea of him actually smiling is enough to fluster Dan into taking a hasty step backwards. The man is uncomfortably pretty as it is, which is confusing enough considering he’s such an asshole. Dan doesn’t know if he could handle a dazzling grin on top of that.

“That was… unexpected,” Mr Novokoric says slowly. His smile still hasn’t quite broken through, but his face has lost the hardness Dan is used to seeing. Without the usual frown lines and turned down corners of his mouth, he could even be beautiful. “Thank you. Of course, your repair is unneeded now, but I appreciate the gesture.”

“Yeah, um, no worries,” Dan says, wondering how rude it would be to just run away. “I had a spare minute, so…”

“Not many people would have the initiative, let alone the intellect to do that,” he says, draining the last of his coffee. He hold the mug out for Dan to take. “I’m impressed.”

Feeling about three inches tall now, Dan just gives him a tight smile. “Thanks,” he says through gritted teeth, and takes the mug. “Another coffee?”

“Depends,” Mr Novokoric answers, arching an eyebrow. “Who’s making it?”

“L-Louise,” Dan says, cheeks hot again.

“Then yes, please,” he says, turning back to the view in front of him.

“Right away, Mr Novokoric,” Dan mutters, glad of the eventual opening to escape.

“Dan?”

Ugh, not so fast, it seems. “Yes?”

“Call me Phil, if you like.”

*

“Lou, I have an urgent problem,” Dan says, slamming into the kitchen.

She doesn’t look up from the eggs she’s scrambling. “It’s gonna take me a few hours to sort your hair out for you, Dan. I don’t have time right now, I’ve got to get breakfast out.”

“What? No, I need you to teach me how to work the coffee machine,” Dan says, smoothing his hair down self-consciously.

Louise looks up sharply, a smirk spreading over her mouth. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Dan says. “I’m going to be here on my own all weekend. I need to know how to make fancy coffees for… guests.”

“Caramel macchiatos?”

“All the different kinds!”

Louise laughs in her long, pretty trill, and nods. “After breakfast,” she says. “Meet me here, I’ll give you a lesson.”

Dan grins at her, then plucks a raspberry from a bowl nearby. “Oh, and Phil wants another cup when you have a sec.”

“Sure,” Louise mutters, going back to the eggs. “I’ll get that for Phil.”  

Dan pretends not to hear the knowing smile hidden in her voice as he exits the kitchen. He jogs back outside then, just in time to usher the Lautrecs to their table. 

*

As it turns out, the coffee machine is going to take more than one lesson to master. Not because it’s especially complicated - more because Dan is utterly inept.

“Watch it!” Louise shrieks as Dan turns the wrong knob, and spurts actual boiling steam from the nozzle. Luckily, they both somehow manage to avoid getting scalded. “My God, Daniel, have you never watched the barista as they make your latte before?”

“I’m not really very attentive,” Dan says, sheepishly. 

He looks over the herd of coffees he’s made over the last hour, all huddled together on the counter. The argument could probably be made that his most recent is better than the initial attempts, but that would hardly be a compliment. He imagines each of the milky, sludge-coloured concoctions is silently whispering ‘kill me, please’. 

“Okay, let’s try a macchiato again.” He’s nothing if not determined.

“You seem to be under the impression that I have nothing better to do than dodge you covering me in coffee granules,” Louise says, wiping the nozzle clean. “I’ve got to get lunch going, so maybe we can pick this up tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Friday,” Dan protests. “That’s the day you leave.”

“Not ‘til the evening,” Louise says. “There’s enough time to squeeze in another lesson before that, God help me.”

“Just one more,” Dan begs, giving her his most puppy-dog expression. “Just show me the macchiato again. Please.”

She sighs dramatically, sort of groaning. “Alright, alright. Get the caramel syrup then.”

It’s not until Dan has the syrup in his hands that he realises Louise is insinuating that these macchiatos are for Phil. She aims a knowing smile at him, and Dan just ignores her, cheeks pink as he pours caramel into the mug. He’s frothing milk, Louise shrieking instructions in his ear - “tilt the jug!”, “you’re spraying it everywhere, push the nozzle down more!”, “not that far, Christ!” - when he senses someone watching him. Mortified at the idea his foibles might be witnessed, Dan drops the jug and hot, not-so-frothy milk gushes everywhere, soaking his and Louise’s shoes, and a lot of the kitchen floor.

“Dan, I’m about to write you off as a lost cause!” Louise shouts, tearing her hat off her head and storming to the sink to find a cloth. “If these shoes are ruined you’re buying me more.”

Dan barely hears her; he’s too busy meeting the curious stare aimed at him. Phil Novokoric is sat at one of the indoor tables in the mezzanine, chin in his hand, watching Dan through the serving hatch. For some reason, Dan lifts his hand in a semblance of a wave; this seems to amuse Phil greatly, though he doesn’t wave back. Instead, a small, barely-there smile graces his lips, presumably for himself, and then he gets up, and walks towards the stairs to the lobby.

“Right,” Louise says, chucking a damp cloth at Dan. “Clean this up, then get the hell out of my kitchen. Coffee class resumes tomorrow.”

(Chapter Five coming next Friday!)

[tipsy-focusing]

Items can vary from person to person when it comes to living it rough.

Some enjoy the comforts that come from home, like pyjamas, a toilet, ample lighting, enough space to stand up straight in, being able to keep out the creepy crawlies, having all these kinds of utensils from the kitchen that you just couldnt do without.

And that’s perfectly acceptable. If you have the room/budget for it.

For myself after many years of camping, I can definitely say its taught me to be a little more open to the natural world and not to fear it as some people do. I dont have the space to have my own private it toilet but that’s cool I’m fine with using public toilets or ducking out into the scrub. I’m okay with wearing the same pair of pants for a couple days in a row. Letting loose on some of your riturals can be hard and a little uncomfortable but it can lead to less worries and more focus on what you’re really out here to enjoy.

” there’s nothing better than sitting around a fire, with a beer, with people you love and just enjoying what’s around you.”

From as young as I can remember my family have always been the adventurous type and would be out in the Australian bushland every other weekend; whether thats all of us together or one of us.

I believe its safe to say that from the years of camping next to/on riverbeds, lakes, beaches, on mountains where puddles would freeze over night, places only 4WD vehicles can acess, deserts, dense bushland; you just name a place on the east coast of this country and there’s a high chance that I’ve been through it at least once. I don’t mind getting a bit dirty, or finding a few critters next to my seat.

My family has gone through fazes of different tents, different cooking methods, trying out some form of ‘glamping’ with a camper trailer that fully set up; looked like we we were building the next skyscraper. There was a point where it took a boat to get to specific spots.

I’m not fussed if it’s pouring down with rain and I’m stuck under a tarpaulin with some friends. It’s always felt like a learning experince or just an experince in itself that I will forever remember

To me there’s nothing better than sitting around a fire, with a beer, with people you love and just enjoying what’s around you. Hanging out, having the occasional deep conversations, it feels like it really brings a group of people very close.

Starting with the kitchen.

Starting in my ‘oh so small’ cabinet kitchen you would think that there is just not enough storage. But here is what I can fit and what I find useful for two people:

2 heat resistant cups *perfect for any drink at camp from wine to tea

Heat safe plastic plates and bowls – 2 of each

Cutlery for 2 *knives, forks, spoons, teaspoons

1 small and large knife that come with a slip on cover

Paint scraper *sounds odd but it’s perfect for cleaning hot plate BBQ’s

Tongs both long and short *long is great for getting things out of the fire

Bottle and can opener *try and find a tool that does both

Wooden spoon

Silicone spatula/scraper

Large serving spoon

Collapsable bowls * one for mixing and one that it sized well for dish washing

First Aid Box *doesnt need to be in the kitchen area but thats where it easily accessible

Scrubbing brush

Steel wool

Space saver measuring

cups

Re-usable shopping bags for those who are trying to be eco friendly

Paper towel and tin foil *wouldn’t reccomend tea-towels as they require washing and drying which isnt ideal if you’re constantly on the move

Portable Butane Gas Stove with replacement gas cartridges

Non-stick 26cm frying pan with high walls and a lid

Fire safe Billy Can or Camping Pot for Non-Australians

Dish detergent

Baby wipes/ Wet Ones

From observing what my family has used in the past and what I’ve used for myself, these items seem to do the job well and are very practical.

The smaller AND larger extras.

For items that are used on the regular like hand soap, shower toiletries, flashlights/torches, pencils, books, water bottles, sunscreen, hair ties, dog leads, quick fix tape; from doing a little research it was found that clipping a multipocket organiser on the back of car seats makes really efficient storage for these types of things.

I also have two flat fold-out chairs, these are great chair for saving space inside. A folding table can be really usefull when you’ve set yourself up to stay for a few days and allows

you to expand your space outside of your home on wheels. Now while this isnt necessary,

but since I had the spot for it; a beach umbrella is perfect for those days on the coast or at a lake to enjoy sitting out of the sun next to the water *even in it!*. A roll of Paracord, a

tarpauline, tent pegs, two or three tent poles are also great for making a covered outdoor spot from the doors of your van. Other people would just get an awning but my challenge is to not look like a Camper Van from the outside.

But when it comes to clothes and enterainment stuff like fishing/hiking/whatever outdoor activity gear. It’s really up to the user and what they plan on doing while on their trip. For me I still have storage under the bed where I would keep clothes, miscellaneous items like bluetooth speaker, dog water bowl, dog food, dog cooling mat, shoes, straps, vest for paddleboarding, water. You can have endless possiblities when it comes to these things.

However unlike the people who travel in their Sprinter Vans; my storage space is very limited so I’m reduced to carrying items that can lay flat.

Now for my bed, a handy note I learned from a fellow Vanlifer was that a combination of regular medium density foam matress with a 5-7cm thick memory foam layer makes up for a very comfy bed *and I’m a side sleeper*.

What you can see in above is that for the design of the bed I’ve cut the matress into two pieces. This allows for the two pieces to make an L-shape which replicates that couch feel.

But keep in mind like i mentioned eariler if your budget it tight all these items will add up in weight. This will then add up to how much fuel you put in your tank in a week.

I’d just like to mention these true words of Edwin Way Teale –

“Reduce the complexity of life by eliminating the needless wants of life, and the labors of life reduce themselves.”

The main focus when it comes to picking out your tools and utensils, is to really think how practical each item is.

In the famous words of my father –

“Lay out all the things you think you might need. Now… leave half of that behind at home. You likely wont use it anyway”

So for anyone who’s new to the whole outdoor experince and is new to the Van Life, I hope that my shared experience of useful tools in the van help shed some light in the darkness. I’m sure some of these thing may change for me in my future but for now that is what I need.

I’m aware that the interior may not look aesthetically pleasing like all those other vans you find on intstagram, but what mine is – is practical and I’m quite content with that.

Cheers!

Did you like the information from this? Continue to follow this blog to learn more about how I make life a bit easier when I’m out in my Camper.

From experience this is what I'm happy to travel with. Items can vary from person to person when it comes to living it rough. Some enjoy the comforts that come from home, like pyjamas, a toilet, ample lighting, enough space to stand up straight in, being able to keep out the creepy crawlies, having all these kinds of utensils from the kitchen that you just couldnt do without.

[easyfoodnetwork]

From the Strategist: How to Stock Your Weeklong (or Monthlong) Vacation Rental Kitchen, According to Chefs

Amazon Prime Video

The cooking tools and ingredients to bring to your home away from home, from the Strategist

Summer vacation looks a little different this year. If you’re lucky enough to escape town (and it’s safe to do so where you are), you’ll probably be road-tripping to a nearby state, and you may even turn what would normally be a weekend away into an extended stay, due to current work-from-home conditions. Pockets of the country are slowly opening back up, but going to restaurants remains iffy — so while you might be taking a vacation, you can’t really take a vacation from cooking. With that in mind, we reached out to three chefs, all of whom have decamped for the Catskills region of upstate New York after working in New York City, and asked for their recommendations on what to bring for a well-stocked short-term kitchen. Here’s what chefs Elise Kornack and Anna Hieronimus, who formerly ran Michelin-starred restaurant Take Root, and Danny Newberg, founder of traveling food project Joint Venture, have to say.

Tools

Shun DM0706 Classic 8-Inch Chef’s Knife

Knives you find in a rental house are usually dull or not up to snuff if you plan on doing some serious cooking. So bring your own chef’s knife (and maybe invest in a knife roll to prevent it from slipping out and accidentally cutting someone). “One of our favorite knife brands is Shun, but pretty much any sharp knife will do for a monthlong stint,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “This size of chef’s knife is very versatile, and can come in handy for anything from chopping fresh herbs to breaking down a chicken. Plus, a good chef’s knife is a great investment.”

Seville Classics Easy-to-Clean Bamboo Cutting Board and 7 Color-Coded Flexible Cutting Mats

A rental may very well have a cutting board, but it’s hard to be sure how much a cutting board has been used or how well it’s been cleaned. So bring your own. “It’s important that you have a fresh and clean surface to prep meals,” Kornack says. “Personally, we like wood because it’s less slippery.”

All-Purpose Ribbed Terry Bar Mop Towel

Instead of bringing a carful of paper towels to your rental, consider the humble, eminently reusable bar towel, a staple of any restaurant or bar. “These towels are zero waste and are super inexpensive for a dozen,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “They can be reused and washed over and over.”

IKEA Mopsig 16-Piece Flatware Set

Let’s be honest: Another family or group of people was probably in your rental before you were and they might have used the cutlery. For peace of mind, consider bringing a cutlery set to your rental. “During a pandemic, it’s important to make sure your cutlery is clean, and depending on how many people you are sharing a space with, it’s essential to make sure everyone has their own set with fork, knife, and spoon,” Kornack and Hieronimus say.

OXO Can Opener

Of all the kitchen tools that may be missing at your rental, a good can opener is one of the most likely objects you won’t be able to find. So bring one with you if you’re going to be opening a lot of cans. Plus, as Hieronimus and Kornack point out, “they can also double as a bottle opener.”

Great Jones Holy Sheet Pan

Sheet pans are the kitchen workhorse you’ll want around at your rental. They’re ideal for big meals, like roasted vegetables, late-night chocolate chip cookies, or whole roasted chicken. “We use our sheet pan almost every day,” Kornack says. “It makes roasting vegetables and other foods super easy. We love cooking outside and grill year-round. The sheet pan is also a great vehicle for bringing food, both cooked and raw, and other supplies from inside the kitchen out to the grill.”

Gentlemen’s Hardware 12-in-1 Detachable Kitchen Stainless Steel Multi Tool with Wood Handles

If you’re starting to worry about how you’re going to fit all this stuff into the trunk of your rental, don’t. Last winter, Hieronimus’s mom gifted her this multi-tool, which features a cheese grater, zester, garlic crusher, channel knife, small paring knife, serrated knife, peeler, fork, spoon, bottle opener, corkscrew, and can opener. “We take it everywhere we go,” says Hieronimus. “It has everything you need to prep an entire meal, whether you’re in a rental or by the campfire.” Plus, it’s stainless steel, so it won’t rust.

OXO BREW Easy Clean French Press Coffee Maker - 8 Cup

The more remote your rental is, the less likely it is that there will be a third-wave coffee shop or Starbucks anywhere nearby, so you’re going to want your own coffee-maker. Kornack and Hieronimus, who say “morning coffee is a ritual we swear by,” prefer a French press for at-home coffee-making and for travel. “A coffee press produces no waste, compared to a coffee machine that uses coffee pods or a filter,” they point out. “The leftover coffee grounds are also a great addition to any compost or garden. This year we poured our excess grounds around our strawberry plants and they are producing more berries than last season.”

REI Co-op Pack-Away 12 Soft Cooler

Small Round Hot Cold Packs With Cloth Backing, 10 Pack

Finally, if you plan on making day trips to nearby towns or parks, make sure you have a cooler and ice packs so you can bring food and drinks along. “Ice packs are reusable, and unlike bags of ice, you won’t end up with a cooler filled with water,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “If you don’t already have a cooler, it’s something that will come in handy again and again. We prefer a soft cooler because it can fit more than a hard one, and this one is expandable and easy to carry!”

Consumables

Diaspora Co. The Trio!

Rather than fill a box with all the contents of your spice rack, Kornack and Hieronimus recommend bringing along a few key spices and leaving the rest at home. Right now, they say they’re obsessed with this trio of single-origin spices that includes pragati turmeric, guntur sannam chilli, and aranya peppercorns and was produced by indigenous farmers in India. “Diaspora Co. is creating a new and equitable version of the spice trade,” they say. “Though a rental property may come stocked with a few spices, we doubt they will be as intentionally produced and distributed. We particularly love the turmeric, which we regularly use to season rice before cooking.”

Basbaas Coconut Cilantro Chutney and Tamarind Date Sauce

Kornack is the kind of person who puts hot sauce on just about anything, but not just any old bottle of Cholula will do. The pair likes to stock up on hot sauces from Basbaas, Somali-American chef Hawa Hassan’s company. “These two sauces are versatile,” Kornack says. “The Coconut Cilantro Chutney is tangy and spicy, while the Tamarind Date sauce is sweet, smoky, and a bit more mild. Both are vegan and gluten-free and delicious.”

San Francisco-Style Sourdough Starter

Anyone looking to truly connect with their inner homesteader may want to bring along a sourdough starter and what Newberg calls “all the important flours,” including bread flour, all-purpose flour, and whole-wheat flour, so you can make your own bread while you’re away.

EXAU Olive Oil

All three chefs recommend bringing a good olive oil with you. “I use it for just about everything I cook,” says Newberg. The world of mass-produced olive oil is known to be a bit murky, but that’s not a problem with this oil, which is sourced from Calabria, Italy, by an American couple. “They’re producing olive oil with their interest and knowledge in nutrition, wine-making, and design,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. If you can’t wait a few days for a bottle, there are plenty of other fantastic options you can find at your local grocer.

Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt

Maldon Sea-Salt Flakes

Yes, bring your own salt. If you arrive and there’s only some iodized table salt in the cabinet, you’ll be sorely disappointed, our sources insist. All three chefs say that you need at least two kinds of salt: A nice kosher salt for general use — from salting pasta water to adding to baked goods — and a decent finishing salt to sprinkle on salads or a steak fresh off the grill.

Seeds of Change Organic Quinoa and Brown Rice

Newberg suggests bringing along rice or any other grains that can keep a long time and that can be whipped up in 20 minutes or less, for a quick meal or a substantial side dish. Our own Jenna Milliner-Waddell, who says she doesn’t even like rice, swears by the Seeds of Change brand.

Interpage International Cod Liver In Own Oil

Adro Riga Smoked Sprats

Traveling with protein in the form of eggs can be a bit perilous, especially if you’re going a long distance. Newberg highly recommends packing canned fish because they provide “protein, omega-3, and they are so good on your freshly made bread, over rice, or in a taco.” His favorites are cod liver and sprats, which are soft, fatty, and high in nutritional value without being too strong in terms of flavor.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2BfTpOC https://ift.tt/2E3es8b

Amazon Prime Video

The cooking tools and ingredients to bring to your home away from home, from the Strategist

Summer vacation looks a little different this year. If you’re lucky enough to escape town (and it’s safe to do so where you are), you’ll probably be road-tripping to a nearby state, and you may even turn what would normally be a weekend away into an extended stay, due to current work-from-home conditions. Pockets of the country are slowly opening back up, but going to restaurants remains iffy — so while you might be taking a vacation, you can’t really take a vacation from cooking. With that in mind, we reached out to three chefs, all of whom have decamped for the Catskills region of upstate New York after working in New York City, and asked for their recommendations on what to bring for a well-stocked short-term kitchen. Here’s what chefs Elise Kornack and Anna Hieronimus, who formerly ran Michelin-starred restaurant Take Root, and Danny Newberg, founder of traveling food project Joint Venture, have to say.

Tools

Shun DM0706 Classic 8-Inch Chef’s Knife

Knives you find in a rental house are usually dull or not up to snuff if you plan on doing some serious cooking. So bring your own chef’s knife (and maybe invest in a knife roll to prevent it from slipping out and accidentally cutting someone). “One of our favorite knife brands is Shun, but pretty much any sharp knife will do for a monthlong stint,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “This size of chef’s knife is very versatile, and can come in handy for anything from chopping fresh herbs to breaking down a chicken. Plus, a good chef’s knife is a great investment.”

Seville Classics Easy-to-Clean Bamboo Cutting Board and 7 Color-Coded Flexible Cutting Mats

A rental may very well have a cutting board, but it’s hard to be sure how much a cutting board has been used or how well it’s been cleaned. So bring your own. “It’s important that you have a fresh and clean surface to prep meals,” Kornack says. “Personally, we like wood because it’s less slippery.”

All-Purpose Ribbed Terry Bar Mop Towel

Instead of bringing a carful of paper towels to your rental, consider the humble, eminently reusable bar towel, a staple of any restaurant or bar. “These towels are zero waste and are super inexpensive for a dozen,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “They can be reused and washed over and over.”

IKEA Mopsig 16-Piece Flatware Set

Let’s be honest: Another family or group of people was probably in your rental before you were and they might have used the cutlery. For peace of mind, consider bringing a cutlery set to your rental. “During a pandemic, it’s important to make sure your cutlery is clean, and depending on how many people you are sharing a space with, it’s essential to make sure everyone has their own set with fork, knife, and spoon,” Kornack and Hieronimus say.

OXO Can Opener

Of all the kitchen tools that may be missing at your rental, a good can opener is one of the most likely objects you won’t be able to find. So bring one with you if you’re going to be opening a lot of cans. Plus, as Hieronimus and Kornack point out, “they can also double as a bottle opener.”

Great Jones Holy Sheet Pan

Sheet pans are the kitchen workhorse you’ll want around at your rental. They’re ideal for big meals, like roasted vegetables, late-night chocolate chip cookies, or whole roasted chicken. “We use our sheet pan almost every day,” Kornack says. “It makes roasting vegetables and other foods super easy. We love cooking outside and grill year-round. The sheet pan is also a great vehicle for bringing food, both cooked and raw, and other supplies from inside the kitchen out to the grill.”

Gentlemen’s Hardware 12-in-1 Detachable Kitchen Stainless Steel Multi Tool with Wood Handles

If you’re starting to worry about how you’re going to fit all this stuff into the trunk of your rental, don’t. Last winter, Hieronimus’s mom gifted her this multi-tool, which features a cheese grater, zester, garlic crusher, channel knife, small paring knife, serrated knife, peeler, fork, spoon, bottle opener, corkscrew, and can opener. “We take it everywhere we go,” says Hieronimus. “It has everything you need to prep an entire meal, whether you’re in a rental or by the campfire.” Plus, it’s stainless steel, so it won’t rust.

OXO BREW Easy Clean French Press Coffee Maker - 8 Cup

The more remote your rental is, the less likely it is that there will be a third-wave coffee shop or Starbucks anywhere nearby, so you’re going to want your own coffee-maker. Kornack and Hieronimus, who say “morning coffee is a ritual we swear by,” prefer a French press for at-home coffee-making and for travel. “A coffee press produces no waste, compared to a coffee machine that uses coffee pods or a filter,” they point out. “The leftover coffee grounds are also a great addition to any compost or garden. This year we poured our excess grounds around our strawberry plants and they are producing more berries than last season.”

REI Co-op Pack-Away 12 Soft Cooler

Small Round Hot Cold Packs With Cloth Backing, 10 Pack

Finally, if you plan on making day trips to nearby towns or parks, make sure you have a cooler and ice packs so you can bring food and drinks along. “Ice packs are reusable, and unlike bags of ice, you won’t end up with a cooler filled with water,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “If you don’t already have a cooler, it’s something that will come in handy again and again. We prefer a soft cooler because it can fit more than a hard one, and this one is expandable and easy to carry!”

Consumables

Diaspora Co. The Trio!

Rather than fill a box with all the contents of your spice rack, Kornack and Hieronimus recommend bringing along a few key spices and leaving the rest at home. Right now, they say they’re obsessed with this trio of single-origin spices that includes pragati turmeric, guntur sannam chilli, and aranya peppercorns and was produced by indigenous farmers in India. “Diaspora Co. is creating a new and equitable version of the spice trade,” they say. “Though a rental property may come stocked with a few spices, we doubt they will be as intentionally produced and distributed. We particularly love the turmeric, which we regularly use to season rice before cooking.”

Basbaas Coconut Cilantro Chutney and Tamarind Date Sauce

Kornack is the kind of person who puts hot sauce on just about anything, but not just any old bottle of Cholula will do. The pair likes to stock up on hot sauces from Basbaas, Somali-American chef Hawa Hassan’s company. “These two sauces are versatile,” Kornack says. “The Coconut Cilantro Chutney is tangy and spicy, while the Tamarind Date sauce is sweet, smoky, and a bit more mild. Both are vegan and gluten-free and delicious.”

San Francisco-Style Sourdough Starter

Anyone looking to truly connect with their inner homesteader may want to bring along a sourdough starter and what Newberg calls “all the important flours,” including bread flour, all-purpose flour, and whole-wheat flour, so you can make your own bread while you’re away.

EXAU Olive Oil

All three chefs recommend bringing a good olive oil with you. “I use it for just about everything I cook,” says Newberg. The world of mass-produced olive oil is known to be a bit murky, but that’s not a problem with this oil, which is sourced from Calabria, Italy, by an American couple. “They’re producing olive oil with their interest and knowledge in nutrition, wine-making, and design,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. If you can’t wait a few days for a bottle, there are plenty of other fantastic options you can find at your local grocer.

Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt

Maldon Sea-Salt Flakes

Yes, bring your own salt. If you arrive and there’s only some iodized table salt in the cabinet, you’ll be sorely disappointed, our sources insist. All three chefs say that you need at least two kinds of salt: A nice kosher salt for general use — from salting pasta water to adding to baked goods — and a decent finishing salt to sprinkle on salads or a steak fresh off the grill.

Seeds of Change Organic Quinoa and Brown Rice

Newberg suggests bringing along rice or any other grains that can keep a long time and that can be whipped up in 20 minutes or less, for a quick meal or a substantial side dish. Our own Jenna Milliner-Waddell, who says she doesn’t even like rice, swears by the Seeds of Change brand.

Interpage International Cod Liver In Own Oil

Adro Riga Smoked Sprats

Traveling with protein in the form of eggs can be a bit perilous, especially if you’re going a long distance. Newberg highly recommends packing canned fish because they provide “protein, omega-3, and they are so good on your freshly made bread, over rice, or in a taco.” His favorites are cod liver and sprats, which are soft, fatty, and high in nutritional value without being too strong in terms of flavor.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2BfTpOC via Blogger https://ift.tt/2CtYbsk

[emospritelet]

Cuckoo’s Flight - 3/6

Last time, Gold showed Belle around the library apartment, neglected to call in at Granny’s for the rent, thereby missing Emma, and offered to make Belle something to eat at his house.  Here’s what happened next.

AO3 link

Belle felt a tiny surge of adrenaline as he guided her up the path with a warm hand on the small of her back.  The street was empty of people, no one to see her enter, and again she wondered at how safe she felt in his presence, as though she trusted him.  He let them inside, and she stepped into a wide hallway, the low, heavy tick of a clock the only sound.  Gold turned on the lights, and she blinked, her eyes unused to it.  The interior was a dusky pink colour, with a carved wooden banister, the staircase turning on its way up to the next floor.

She wondered if he lived alone, and almost before the thought had formed, she knew it to be true.  Surprising, that she could recognise the need to be alone in others, having been so starved for contact herself.  Solitude rolled off him in waves, the calm, comfortable loneliness that came from self-imposed isolation.  She imagined that he didn’t have close relationships with anyone and it made her wonder why he had chosen to let her in, even to this small extent.

Gold let her through to the kitchen, and her eyes widened as she looked around.  The room was clean and modern, a table and four chairs next to the kitchen counters, shining appliances ready and waiting to be used.

“Have a seat,” he said.  “I’m going to have a glass of wine.  A proper glass, not that swill they serve at the bar.  Would you like one?”

She nodded, still looking over the place, and he took a corkscrew from a drawer and a bottle of red wine from the wooden rack between two cupboards.  Belle slid into a chair as he opened the wine with a practised twist of his wrist and a dull pop.  She watched him pour into two large glasses, the wine flowing in a dark red stream, and she nodded her thanks as he set a glass in front of her.  She sniffed at the wine, half-expecting the sourness she had experienced earlier in the bar, but this was very different.  It was fruity, rich and heady, and she took a sip, the flavours of blackberries and cherries and a hint of spice bursting on her tongue.  This was how she had imagined wine would taste.  The heat was there too, warming her, sinking down her throat to spread throughout her body, and she took off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair.

Gold took a sip of his own wine and went to the fridge, rummaging around for a moment before taking out a plastic tub of something and holding it up.

“I made lamb stew a couple of days ago,” he said.  “Should be enough for two.  It just needs heating through.  Is that alright?”

She nodded, trying to remember the taste of lamb.  The hospital food was salty and somehow flavourless, eaten with plastic spoons that she had been told were handed out because they couldn’t be used as weapons, not that she remembered ever attacking anyone in her life.  She watched as he boiled water in a pan and set a steamer insert on top, chopping potatoes into chunks and dropping them in before putting on a lid.  The stew went into another pan, and Gold took a mouthful of wine, stirring with a wooden spoon.  The light gleamed on his hair as he worked, and the delicious, savoury scent of rich lamb, garlic and rosemary began to drift into her nose.  She had almost forgotten how good food could smell.

There was silence as he moved around the kitchen, other than the clunk of a spoon against the pan, or a mutter from him as he tasted something.  She was content to sit back and let him get on with it, too unsure of herself to offer to help, even if she had known what to do.  He mashed the seasoned potatoes with butter and milk, and her mouth watered as he set a plate in front of her, cubes of tender meat and vegetables, fragrant with herbs, the rich dark sauce glistening next to the pile of fluffy mashed potatoes.  He sat down opposite, refilling their glasses, and took a bite of the lamb, chewing as he watched her.  She breathed in the savoury aroma, and he gestured with a fork.

“I haven’t poisoned that,” he said dryly, and she blushed, picking up her cutlery.

The stew was delicious, the meat wonderfully tender, and the first mouthful caused her to make a noise that was almost obscene.  He smirked, raising an eyebrow, and she took another bite.

“That’s so good,” she said thickly, and his smile widened.

“Take your time,” he said.  “You’re probably not used to it if you’ve been in the hospital for a while.”

She thought he was right, and so she tried to slow her pace, but she still cleared her plate before he did.  She offered to clear up when they were finished, but he had a dishwasher, and so she found herself being escorted through to a comfortable lounge, filled with antique furniture, a fire burning low in the grate and a clock ticking on the wall.  There were bookshelves stuffed full, and she itched to study them, but he gestured to the couch, and she sat down, hands cradling her wineglass, the alcohol just starting to go to her head a little.  There was an oak china cabinet in the alcove near the bay window, its shelves filled with porcelain vases and decorative plates, and she ran her eyes over what looked like part of an old tea set.  A pot and two cups and saucers, white with a delicate blue flower pattern.  One cup had a chip in the rim, and she was surprised that it was on show.  Gold put some more wood on the fire, tiny flames licking hungrily around the logs as he lowered himself onto the couch next to her.

“You have such nice things,” she said, looking around, and he shrugged.

“I’m a dealer in antiquities,” he said.  “I own a shop in town, and a lot of the pieces that aren’t there are kept here.  I like beautiful objects, you see.  Precious things.  Sometimes I even plan to let them go, and yet they end up staying.”

“If you enjoy them, and they make you happy, there’s nothing wrong with that,” she said.  “I think - I think that it would be worse to keep them locked away, don’t you?  To hide them away where no one else can see them.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.  “Yes, I think that would be a terrible tragedy.”

He sipped his wine, watching her over the rim of his glass.  The fire crackled and snapped, warm reddish light flickering over his face and highlighting his cheekbones.  She felt that low-down tug again, and licked her lips.  He was still staring at her, but then he looked away.

“We can go over the rental agreement in the morning,” he said.  “You’ll need a job if you want to pay rent and feed yourself.  Any thoughts?”

“I - no.”  She looked down at her glass, the wine rippling.  “I hadn’t thought.  But - but I’m sure I could find something!  If - well, if…”

“If Dr Hopper doesn’t decide that he regrets his decision to let you go,” he finished, and she cringed a little.  There was silence for a moment.  She could see his fingers drumming slowly on the side of his glass.

“I take it you’re literate,” he said.  “Numerate?  Could you do stock-taking, for example?”

She looked up.

“Oh, yes!” she said eagerly.  “I learned to read when I was three!  And I used to help my father with his business, before - well, before I went to the hospital.  I’m sure I could pick things up quickly, if there’s a job out there.”

He nodded.

“I might be able to find you something,” he said.  “We can discuss it in the morning.  You must be tired.”

She was too nervous to be tired, but he drained his glass and stood up, shifting the cane to keep his balance.

“I’ll show you to your room,” he said, and she blinked.

“My - my room?” she asked, her voice suddenly high and anxious.

“Well, the apartment isn’t fit for sleeping in tonight, and I wasn’t about to let you sleep on the couch,” he said dryly.  “I assure you that I have no evil intent, Miss Longbourn.  You’re quite safe here.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean…”  She snapped her mouth shut, and he looked amused.  “I wasn’t - you’ve been very kind,” she added lamely.

“Yes, well, don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain.”  He put his head to the side.  “Are you done with the wine, or would you like a little more?”

“I - no, no thank you.”

She drained her glass, setting it on the coffee table, and stood up.  Gold nodded.

“This way,” he said, and walked out, mounting the stairs.  She followed him up to the landing, and he paused outside a door, opening it up and switching on a light.

“The spare room,” he said.  “I can give you something to wear.  Bathroom’s across the landing.  You can shower, if you like.”

Belle stepped inside, looking around.  It was a spacious, pleasant room a bay window looking out on the dark woods behind.  A large, heavy wooden bed with carved posts was made up with white sheets, a red blanket over the top.  She glanced across at him.

“What about you?” she asked, and he looked at her steadily.

“My room’s at the end,” he said.  “I have an en-suite, so I won’t need to disturb you.”

“Thank you,” she said.  “For everything.  You didn’t have to help me.”

“I know.”

“So…”  She floundered, unsure what she wanted to say.  “I mean, don’t think I’m not grateful, I just don’t understand why.  Why you would.”

Gold hesitated, and if it had been anyone else she would have thought he seemed unsure of himself.  It was the first time she had seen him look uncertain.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.  “It just…”  He lifted a hand, twisting his fingers before letting his arm fall again, his mouth flattening.

“...feels right,” she finished, and he nodded, his eyes flicking back to hers.

“Yes.”

There was silence again, and she could feel a strange, heavy atmosphere building, as though a storm was coming.  As though sparks were dancing in the air around them, crackling over her skin, the tension stealing her breath.  Gold blinked, looking away and breaking the spell.

“Let me get you something to wear,” he said quietly, and walked out, leaving her with flushed cheeks and a dry mouth and unfamiliar, rising desire.

He brought her a T-shirt, and a pair of blue plaid cotton pants, and she held them in her hands for a moment, unsure what to do.  Gold looked hesitant, his fingers opening and closing around the handle of his cane.

“Right,” he said.  “Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.  Sleep well, Miss Longbourn.”

She was beginning to regret giving him a false name.  It sounded strange and jarring in her ears, and she wanted to hear him speak her true name, to hear his mouth caress it and let it fall from his tongue.  She nodded mutely, and he turned on his heel, leaving her alone.

“Goodnight!” she called, after he had gone, and hoped he had heard.

Putting the clothes on the bed, she decided to take a shower, and so she went into the bathroom and locked the door.  The shower gel smelled of herbs, clean and fresh, and it felt good to stand under the torrent of hot water and scrub the hospital from her skin.  She washed her hair too, fingers scraping at her scalp until her skin tingled, and by the time she got out and wrapped herself in thick grey towels, she felt much better.

The house was quiet when she opened the door and peered into the corridor, and she hurried back to her room and shut the door, using the towels to dry her hair before pulling on the T-shirt and pants.  There was a brush in the drawer of the dresser, and she sat in front of the mirror, untangling her hair with careful strokes until it was soft and shining.  She watched her reflection, her eyes dark in the lamplight, her belly still tight with that crawling, tugging feeling.  She set down the brush, taking a deep breath and telling herself to get a grip.  It was excitement at being freed, at being out in the world again.  The surge of attraction for Gold was her body’s response to someone showing her kindness, when all she could remember from the staff at the asylum was at best indifference, and at worst cruelty.  But Gold had been kind.  He had saved her from the unwanted attentions of Keith, and had given her food and wine and a safe place to stay.  It was natural that she would respond to that.  It meant nothing.

She flicked off the light, getting in between the cool cotton sheets of the bed, and lay back with her hands behind her head, trying to relax.  Her skin was humming, her heart thudding in her chest, and after ten minutes or so she threw back the covers with a sigh.  He had books.  Perhaps she could lose herself in one of those and take her mind off his eyes and his tiny smiles and the way his hands moved.

She slipped out of bed, opening the bedroom door as quietly as she could and padding downstairs.  The lamps were still lit, and for a moment she paused on her toes, wondering where he was.  She heard nothing, though, and so she continued on her way, feet silent on the wooden floors.  The fire in the lounge had burnt down, the embers glowing red, and the room was empty, so she trotted over to the bookshelves, running her eyes over what was stacked there.  He had a mix of classic and modern authors, Shakespeare, poetry, and even non-fiction books on history and politics.   She mouthed the titles, finger stroking over the spines and hooking over the top of a leather-bound book of fairy tales.  It came free from the surrounding books with a low, whispery sound.

“There are more in my study.”

Gold’s voice made her jump, and she dropped the book.  It landed between her feet with a dull thump, and she dropped to her knees just as he did, their hands reaching for it and touching briefly before jerking back.  Her heart was pounding, her breath coming hard in her throat, and she licked her lips.  He had taken off his tie and unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt, and she ran her eyes up his chest and over the warm skin of his throat.  His pulse throbbed beneath his skin, and she felt an urge to lick it, to run her tongue over him and feel the scrape of new stubble against her.  She raised her eyes to his, and they were fathom-deep, ocean-deep, dark as the night and filled with a hunger that made her breathless.

“I’m sorry if I startled you, Miss Longbourn,” he said quietly, and she noticed that his accent had thickened a little.  She wondered what he was doing here, so far from home.  Perhaps he felt as lost and lonely as she.  The thought made her want to be honest with him, to strip herself bare and hold nothing back.

“My - my name’s not Lacey Longbourn,” she whispered, and he smiled.

“Yes, I know.”

“You know?”  She frowned at him, and his grin widened, the gold tooth gleaming.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said softly, and she dropped her eyes.

“Oh.”

“Which is no bad thing, really,” he added.  “Besides, I presumed you had your own reasons for using a false name.”

“Yeah.”  She looked up again.  “I - I wasn’t sure if I could trust you at first.”

He gave her a wry smile.

“Well, given my reputation in this town, I won’t bother telling you that you can,” he said.  “But I certainly mean you no harm.”

“I believe you,” she said truthfully, and his lips twitched.

He reached out, his hand brushing over her cheek, thumb stroking over her lower lip, and she sucked in a breath, his touch burning her.  He pulled back immediately, eyes widening.

“Sorry,” he whispered.  “I’m - I’m sorry, I have no idea why I just did that.”

Looking discomfited, he straightened up, holding out a hand to help her to her feet, and Belle clutched the book to her chest.  He was having difficulty in making eye contact with her again, and she ached to reassure him, to tell him that she had wanted him to touch her.  Her tongue seemed to have swollen and stuck to the roof of her mouth, and she tried to peel it free.

“So.”  He grounded his cane, his eyes flicking across to her before looking away again.  “What’s your name?”

“Belle,” she said.  “Belle French.”

“You’re Moe French’s daughter?”  His voice had hardened a little.  “I see.  I thought he was an unreliable tenant, I didn’t realise he’d locked away his own child.”

She bowed her head, hunching her shoulders a little, and he clicked his tongue.

“Still, none of my business,” he said.  “Enjoy the book, Miss French, and feel free to borrow as many as you like.”

“Thank you.”  She hugged the book a little tighter.  “Goodnight, Mr Gold.”

She took one step away from him, then another, and then it was easier to move, to breathe.  Heart thumping, she hurried upstairs, pushing her bedroom door shut with a click and leaning back against it for a moment to compose herself.  He touched me.  Touched my cheek like I was beautiful and precious.  Touched my lip like he wanted to kiss me.

Sucking in a breath, she pushed away from the door, turning on the bedside lamp and getting back into bed with her book.  Half an hour later, she heard him come up the stairs, the tap of his cane on the wooden treads somehow comforting.  Floorboards squeaked a little as he passed her door on the way to his own room, and for a moment she sat with her hands on the pages of the book, listening.  He didn’t pass by again, and she assumed that he had gone to bed.

As beautifully-illustrated as the book was, she couldn’t concentrate on it.  The stories of princesses sighing over dashing rescuers didn’t hold her interest, and she found herself drawn to darker tales of cunning sorcerers and dark magic.  That only made her think of Gold, for reasons she couldn’t explain, and so eventually she put the book aside, hoping to sleep.  Darkness closed in on her when she turned off the light, and she lay there, listening to the sound of her breathing and wondering if he was also awake.  He had touched her.  He had been surprised by wanting to, as though it was something he couldn’t explain.  As though he was drawn to her, as she was to him.

Shaking her head, she threw back the covers for the second time that evening, and bounced out of bed, her breathing unsteady.  Do the brave thing.  The worst that could happen was that she would make a fool of herself, but she had spent years with everyone around her telling her she was mad.  Embarrassment didn’t have the same effect as it once might have.

Mind made up, she opened the bedroom door, staring down the darkened corridor to the door at the end.  His room.  The first step was hesitant, but she kept going, toes splaying on the cool wood.  Her hand shook a little as she reached for the handle, but she turned it and pushed open the door into darkness.

[easyfoodnetwork]

Amazon Prime Video The cooking tools and ingredients to bring to your home away from home, from the Strategist Summer vacation looks a little different this year. If you’re lucky enough to escape town (and it’s safe to do so where you are), you’ll probably be road-tripping to a nearby state, and you may even turn what would normally be a weekend away into an extended stay, due to current work-from-home conditions. Pockets of the country are slowly opening back up, but going to restaurants remains iffy — so while you might be taking a vacation, you can’t really take a vacation from cooking. With that in mind, we reached out to three chefs, all of whom have decamped for the Catskills region of upstate New York after working in New York City, and asked for their recommendations on what to bring for a well-stocked short-term kitchen. Here’s what chefs Elise Kornack and Anna Hieronimus, who formerly ran Michelin-starred restaurant Take Root, and Danny Newberg, founder of traveling food project Joint Venture, have to say. Tools Shun DM0706 Classic 8-Inch Chef’s Knife Knives you find in a rental house are usually dull or not up to snuff if you plan on doing some serious cooking. So bring your own chef’s knife (and maybe invest in a knife roll to prevent it from slipping out and accidentally cutting someone). “One of our favorite knife brands is Shun, but pretty much any sharp knife will do for a monthlong stint,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “This size of chef’s knife is very versatile, and can come in handy for anything from chopping fresh herbs to breaking down a chicken. Plus, a good chef’s knife is a great investment.” Seville Classics Easy-to-Clean Bamboo Cutting Board and 7 Color-Coded Flexible Cutting Mats A rental may very well have a cutting board, but it’s hard to be sure how much a cutting board has been used or how well it’s been cleaned. So bring your own. “It’s important that you have a fresh and clean surface to prep meals,” Kornack says. “Personally, we like wood because it’s less slippery.” All-Purpose Ribbed Terry Bar Mop Towel Instead of bringing a carful of paper towels to your rental, consider the humble, eminently reusable bar towel, a staple of any restaurant or bar. “These towels are zero waste and are super inexpensive for a dozen,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “They can be reused and washed over and over.” IKEA Mopsig 16-Piece Flatware Set Let’s be honest: Another family or group of people was probably in your rental before you were and they might have used the cutlery. For peace of mind, consider bringing a cutlery set to your rental. “During a pandemic, it’s important to make sure your cutlery is clean, and depending on how many people you are sharing a space with, it’s essential to make sure everyone has their own set with fork, knife, and spoon,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. OXO Can Opener Of all the kitchen tools that may be missing at your rental, a good can opener is one of the most likely objects you won’t be able to find. So bring one with you if you’re going to be opening a lot of cans. Plus, as Hieronimus and Kornack point out, “they can also double as a bottle opener.” Great Jones Holy Sheet Pan Sheet pans are the kitchen workhorse you’ll want around at your rental. They’re ideal for big meals, like roasted vegetables, late-night chocolate chip cookies, or whole roasted chicken. “We use our sheet pan almost every day,” Kornack says. “It makes roasting vegetables and other foods super easy. We love cooking outside and grill year-round. The sheet pan is also a great vehicle for bringing food, both cooked and raw, and other supplies from inside the kitchen out to the grill.” Gentlemen’s Hardware 12-in-1 Detachable Kitchen Stainless Steel Multi Tool with Wood Handles If you’re starting to worry about how you’re going to fit all this stuff into the trunk of your rental, don’t. Last winter, Hieronimus’s mom gifted her this multi-tool, which features a cheese grater, zester, garlic crusher, channel knife, small paring knife, serrated knife, peeler, fork, spoon, bottle opener, corkscrew, and can opener. “We take it everywhere we go,” says Hieronimus. “It has everything you need to prep an entire meal, whether you’re in a rental or by the campfire.” Plus, it’s stainless steel, so it won’t rust. OXO BREW Easy Clean French Press Coffee Maker - 8 Cup The more remote your rental is, the less likely it is that there will be a third-wave coffee shop or Starbucks anywhere nearby, so you’re going to want your own coffee-maker. Kornack and Hieronimus, who say “morning coffee is a ritual we swear by,” prefer a French press for at-home coffee-making and for travel. “A coffee press produces no waste, compared to a coffee machine that uses coffee pods or a filter,” they point out. “The leftover coffee grounds are also a great addition to any compost or garden. This year we poured our excess grounds around our strawberry plants and they are producing more berries than last season.” REI Co-op Pack-Away 12 Soft Cooler Small Round Hot Cold Packs With Cloth Backing, 10 Pack Finally, if you plan on making day trips to nearby towns or parks, make sure you have a cooler and ice packs so you can bring food and drinks along. “Ice packs are reusable, and unlike bags of ice, you won’t end up with a cooler filled with water,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. “If you don’t already have a cooler, it’s something that will come in handy again and again. We prefer a soft cooler because it can fit more than a hard one, and this one is expandable and easy to carry!” Consumables Diaspora Co. The Trio! Rather than fill a box with all the contents of your spice rack, Kornack and Hieronimus recommend bringing along a few key spices and leaving the rest at home. Right now, they say they’re obsessed with this trio of single-origin spices that includes pragati turmeric, guntur sannam chilli, and aranya peppercorns and was produced by indigenous farmers in India. “Diaspora Co. is creating a new and equitable version of the spice trade,” they say. “Though a rental property may come stocked with a few spices, we doubt they will be as intentionally produced and distributed. We particularly love the turmeric, which we regularly use to season rice before cooking.” Basbaas Coconut Cilantro Chutney and Tamarind Date Sauce Kornack is the kind of person who puts hot sauce on just about anything, but not just any old bottle of Cholula will do. The pair likes to stock up on hot sauces from Basbaas, Somali-American chef Hawa Hassan’s company. “These two sauces are versatile,” Kornack says. “The Coconut Cilantro Chutney is tangy and spicy, while the Tamarind Date sauce is sweet, smoky, and a bit more mild. Both are vegan and gluten-free and delicious.” San Francisco-Style Sourdough Starter Anyone looking to truly connect with their inner homesteader may want to bring along a sourdough starter and what Newberg calls “all the important flours,” including bread flour, all-purpose flour, and whole-wheat flour, so you can make your own bread while you’re away. EXAU Olive Oil All three chefs recommend bringing a good olive oil with you. “I use it for just about everything I cook,” says Newberg. The world of mass-produced olive oil is known to be a bit murky, but that’s not a problem with this oil, which is sourced from Calabria, Italy, by an American couple. “They’re producing olive oil with their interest and knowledge in nutrition, wine-making, and design,” Kornack and Hieronimus say. If you can’t wait a few days for a bottle, there are plenty of other fantastic options you can find at your local grocer. Diamond Crystal Kosher Salt Maldon Sea-Salt Flakes Yes, bring your own salt. If you arrive and there’s only some iodized table salt in the cabinet, you’ll be sorely disappointed, our sources insist. All three chefs say that you need at least two kinds of salt: A nice kosher salt for general use — from salting pasta water to adding to baked goods — and a decent finishing salt to sprinkle on salads or a steak fresh off the grill. Seeds of Change Organic Quinoa and Brown Rice Newberg suggests bringing along rice or any other grains that can keep a long time and that can be whipped up in 20 minutes or less, for a quick meal or a substantial side dish. Our own Jenna Milliner-Waddell, who says she doesn’t even like rice, swears by the Seeds of Change brand. Interpage International Cod Liver In Own Oil Adro Riga Smoked Sprats Traveling with protein in the form of eggs can be a bit perilous, especially if you’re going a long distance. Newberg highly recommends packing canned fish because they provide “protein, omega-3, and they are so good on your freshly made bread, over rice, or in a taco.” His favorites are cod liver and sprats, which are soft, fatty, and high in nutritional value without being too strong in terms of flavor. from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2BfTpOC

http://easyfoodnetwork.blogspot.com/2020/07/from-strategist-how-to-stock-your.html