#Prepared Flour Mixes Market

[texas-gothic]

Dracula Daily Prep: Gather Your Paprikash!

It's that time of year again. Even as we speak, Jonathan Harker has departed for Transylvania, and the unhallowed halls of Castle Dracula. And as he makes his way towards that foreboding country, he will encounter a singular, most enticing of dishes: Paprika Hendl, or as we might know it better, Chicken Paprikash!

This traditional Central European dish explodes in popularity each May as we all gather around our virtual mess hall to enjoy the spirit of this most influential of gothic novels. Perhaps you yourself are considering throwing together a pot this year? Well, if you are, let this be your guide.

So, first, let's discuss the most important of the ingredients here: authentic hungarian paprika. Now, the recipe I first used last year called only for Sweet Paprika, but I personally found that version to be a little bland. I'm remedying this by adding some Hot Paprika as well. However, this is just my personal experimentation. Hungarian Hot Paprika can in fact be very hot, so if you're not comfortable with anything too spicy, feel free to opt only for the Sweet Paprika.

(Both of these I had to order online.)

Next, is another very important addition. As youre gathering your basic cornerstones of cooking (namely yellow onion, roma tomato, and garlic for this recipe) you may find yourself passing up on something that could vastly improve your dish. I'm talking, of course, about Hungarian Wax Peppers. These peppers range in heat, from meak and mild to slightly hotter than you'd average jalapeño. As per instruction, you should only use one. But on my end, I found the single pepper to be a little underwhelming, and I had trouble picking out it's flavor. So, this year, I'll be using two of them.

I got these from Central Market, an upmarket gorcer on Westheimer. They're a cousin of HEB, and you can find one or two in every major city in Texas. If you're elsewhere, try an alternative like Whole Foods, or try to find a European or International food market in your area.

Next, let's talk chicken. You can't have Chicken Paprkiash without the chicken, after all.

You're going to want to go with dark meat cuts for this. Traditionally the dish would use a mix of legs and thighs. Personally, I suggest using only the thighs, which you'll want to get bone-in and skin-on. The thigh provides a flater surface for browning than the leg, as well as more meat.

(A note on food safety, raw chicken will usually only last 2-3 days in the fridge. So you'll want to grab that fairly close to the day you're actually cooking this. If not, you can do what I'll be doing, and sticking it in the freezer until about 24 hours before I start cooking.)

So, as you gather your meat, produce, and spice you're probably asking yourself, "what on Earth am I going to be eating this with?" And the answer to that is spaetzle! A popular dumpling present in lots of Central European cooking, this is exactly what you need to tie this all together.

Now, while you should be able to find some in the international isle of most major grocers, you might also have to visit an international food store, or perhaps something more upmarket. If none of these options work, then there are a variety of other side dishes that work just as well. Egg noodles are a very popular choice, and in my very American attempt last year, I found that mashed potatoes work especially well.

Now that you've got all these things together, you're very nearly done. All that's left is the thickener. Paprikash is thickened using a blend of flour, heavy whipping cream, and sour cream. We'll get onto preparing this mixture in my post on actually cooking the paprikash, but until then, acquiring them should be a cake walk at any place food items are sold.

Now that will conclude the actual grocery list for just the Paprikash itself, but I do have one more pointer on how to really liven up this meal. Now, if you're under 21 or if perhaps you take after our dear, depraved, beloathed Count

Then you can skip this next bit. As a wine professional myself, I find that a well paired glass can add a tremendous flare to nearly any already great dinner. In the case of something like Chicken Paprkiash, and keeping with the Central European theme, I could hardly think of a better match than a good German Pinot Noir, also known as a Spatburgunder. Pinot from Germany typically has a very light body and a refreshing acidity that plays very well with the rich and creamy sauce of Chicken Paprikash. The palate of earth and red fruit should always pair nicely with the smoke of the paprika, as well as being a general good partner for any chicken. I myself am going with this 2020 Rheingau from August Kesseler.

And with that, we are done! Hit those checkout isles and make sure to get home before dark. Terrible things have sway over the world once the sun has gone down. So if the crowd does keep you locked up until nightfall, make sure to graciously accept any crucifixes given to you by kindly, elderly grandmothers and inn keepers. But whatever you do, make sure to pop in on Friday, when I'll be sharing a step by step guide on taking these ingredients and turning them into a dinner that will make our good friend Jonathan go red as a fire truck!

Happy Dracula Week everybody!

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERES BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER FIVE: FASTENING MYSELF TO YOU WITH A STITCH

↢ chapter four | series masterlist | chapter six ↣

🎧 soundtrack

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.5K]

warnings: no use of y/n, cursing, self deprecation (are we surprised???) overall fluff

summary: things get heavy with the farmers market making its quick approach — thoughts gnawing away at you and pressure building in your bones. slowly but surely, you’re back at square one, lost in the labyrinth, thinking that the plane was going down. but what happens when Steve comes along in the midst of the storm and mess?

There was a sugary sweet aroma that clouded your apartment — a mixture of freshly chopped fruit that simmered in lemon juice and the overwhelming heaps of sugar and vanilla you mixed together all day.

Racks of fresh baked cookies cooled on a wire rack on the counters while the next batch baked in the oven. You had gone as far as to clearing out most of your fridge space — pre-filled piping bags littering the shelves along with the rest of the precut ingredients you had prepared throughout the week.

Somehow, no amount of planning and prep seemed to matter because you hadn’t anticipated being responsible for a few hundred batches of sweets for Saturday’s Farmers Market. Perhaps you should’ve posed a few more questions and concerns before agreeing on the spot, but you knew you weren’t going to leave Nancy hanging.

She was always so good to you… welcoming, big-hearted, and most of all supportive. Even if she didn’t ask, you would’ve volunteered yourself the second she brought up that she would be hosting the event.

If there was any way you could help, you wouldn’t even think about hesitating.

However, the ache in your limbs and the tiredness in your eyes were speaking a whole nother tune than your heart and mind. You spent the entire week in and out of the grocery store picking up pounds and pounds of flour and sugar — even the sweet lady at the market had run out of fresh eggs to sell you, having already picked up a few dozen days prior.

There were too many baking dishes and itty bitty teaspoons littering the bottom of your kitchen sink.

Recipes that normally took you an hour to bake had tripled with the increasing measurements.

Grocery store runs became more and more frequent with you forgetting to pick up that one very important and vital ingredient.

The menu you had scribbled down on a random piece of paper had been crossed off and rewritten and crossed off again more times than you could count. At this point it was barely legible, the black ink a jumbled mess of your handwriting that only you could understand.

Safe to say you were a mess… literally and figuratively.

There was a tingling feeling in your bones, an impatient restless prickle that flooded your senses in a way that was voicing to you that you were on the verge of a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen if you didn’t step away.

“Fuck this!”  You hissed to yourself sharply.

You reached for the knob, turning it to shut off the heat completely and pulled the bubbling fruit compote away from the burner. The floorboards creaked under your heavy footsteps taking you away from the kitchen and into the living room where you fell against the couch cushions, finally letting your back rest after being on your feet all day.

“It’s gonna be okay… everything is fine, I’m just being dramatic.” You whispered reassuringly to yourself with fanning hands trying to get yourself to cool down. 

But you and your consciousness knew you weren’t fooling anyone… not even yourself.

It wasn’t a foreign feeling at all — you had been here many times before staring up at the ceiling and trying to ground yourself in any shape or form. But it just so happened that you hadn’t felt like this in awhile, maybe because of how busy life had become with your new friendships and the less time you spent worrying. 

You had done your best to keep it at bay, even when it came to your artist’s block, you never let it overwhelm you like this If anything you accepted it and waited it out, but now that you knew someone was counting on you… it just had to come back and bite you in the ass.

“I can’t do this!” You whined dramatically, standing up and snatching the phone off the coffee table, dialing in the numbers and pressing it tightly to your ear.

With every ring you paced back and forth from end to end of your living room. The cord pulled taut with each step you took before it was slack and taut again.

‘Hey this is the Buckley residence, sorry we can’t come to the phone right now… you should probably leave a message and we’ll try to get back to you but no promises!’

You groaned, pinching your eyes shut as you stood in place waiting for the beep to come but you really wished she would have picked it up and sounded off her lovely voice.

“Hey, Robs, it’s me,” you knew she would be concerned right away when she heard this, your usual bubbly greeting gone and instead replaced with dullness.

“I’m having a really shitty day right now and maybe you can give me a call when you get home? Love you and hope to talk soon.”

It never got this bad, to the point where you felt like you couldn’t move from where you were and even if you wanted to, you had no idea how.

The thought of letting someone you cared about down made your stomach twist and turn. You didn’t have many people in your life, let alone genuine friends. But that all changed when you met Robin and soon after her friends became yours.

Nancy trusted you and was counting on you to be there for her — to show up the way for her the same way she did you. And sweet Will was also counting on you, the boy pitched you the idea and you smiled in his face promising him that it wasn’t only great but that you’d be there to help.

You could already imagine the disappointment in their eyes if you had to tell them you weren’t sure you were the right fit just barely two days before the event. It would totally shatter them, maybe not completely, but enough for them to never ask you for anything ever again because you’d only let them down.

Even when you didn’t mean to, it always happened, and here you were about to repeat it all over again. Losing the people who genuinely cared about you the same way you cared about them just because you couldn’t get out of your own head.

All of your life you had believed that everything good and right just ended up breaking, burning, and ending — it was always your fate. 

DING!

“Oh my god!”

You scrambled off the cushions in a haste, the phone toppling over onto the floor as you ran into the kitchen and threw on the oven mitts as quickly as you could. The smell of burning was only faint, the timer you had set on the microwave beeping two more times before shutting up.

You whipped the oven door opened, a big gush of heat enveloping the air whilst you reached in and grabbed the pan. Frantically searching your kitchen for any free space on the already cluttered counters, you made room on the kitchen table, placing it down on a dish towel to prevent it from developing a heat stain.

Much to your surprise, the cookies were not at all burnt: the colorful sprinkles of funfetti still remained vibrant embedded within the vanilla sugar cookies. You wedged the metal spatula underneath, checking and making sure they were perfectly golden, which in fact they were.

“Fuck my life.” You huffed, throwing off the mitt and raking your hands through your scalp.

The pressure was building, the weight on your chest feeling like the whole town was counting on you when you knew deep down they weren’t. The show would still go on with or without you but it just was principal – being inconsiderate or not.

The phone began to ring, muffled sounds from against your living room carpet as it had fallen over in the midst of the haste. It was probably Robin, concerned about the voicemail you left minutes ago.

“Hey sweet—”

“Steve!”

It was supposed to be a greeting of pleasant surprise not expecting him to be on the other line, despite spending the last week non stop on the phone with each other when you both were free. But all Steve heard was panic and distress, your warm and surprised hello replaced with everything opposite of that, making his mind race.

“Woah, hey, did something happen? Are you okay?”

You couldn't spare him from the truth or not, and it didn’t really matter because he’d end up finding out somehow. You sighed, peeking back into the disaster of your kitchen before looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. 

“I… well, kinda, not really, I don’t really know.”

“Do you need me to drive down there? I can come right now.��

There was shuffling in the background, his bed squeaking from getting up from it and the sound of his car keys being swiped off the counters. It had you backtracking as quickly as possible, regretting being so vague and making him worry like this knowing he was so far away.

While the thought of him coming down to see you after a week apart sounded enticing, it would be entirely selfish to let him do so. You weren’t Steve’s responsibility to take care of, no matter how much you felt inside for him and how his presence could put you at ease right about now.

For now, you’d settle for the next best thing: him over the phone. 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I mean, I’m sorry…” You squeezed your eyes shut, sniffling a deep breath in, “I just—just was having a really bad day and then I almost burnt the cookies I had in the oven. I’m not hurt, I promise.”

There was a deep sigh at the end of your sentence, the one where he could picture your shoulders falling defeatedly and that terrible frown he hated to see on your face. He could imagine it would be the same sight as when you sat across from him at the diner and felt so horrible about yourself.

If only you were a block away, he’d be at your doorstep in a heartbeat ready to tackle whatever was going on like it was his only duty in the world. To be quite honest he hated the distance between the both of you, like some sort of curse that only you two had to go through.

Way to go for Dustin and Suzies long distance problems.

There was another squeak, his back hitting his bed again before he spoke. “What’s going on?” 

You shook your head, not wanting to dump all of it on him after the day he probably had. “N-nothing. I’m just being dramatic and getting in my head about the farmers market thing.”

There was a migraine already coming to life from the pulse on your temples just thinking about it again. 

“C’mon tell me what’s bothering you.” He pressed, unwavering in his efforts to help you get it off your chest. 

You took another deep breath, falling back onto the couch cushions and this time ready let all the pent up stress go by finally telling someone the truth. 

“I don’t know if I can do it… I mean, I didn’t anticipate for it to be this stressful, you know. Which is stupid of me, I mean what did I think it was gonna be? A walk in the park? I swear, I’m not lazy or anything, I just didn’t realize—”

He cut in before you could even think about finishing that sentence, scoffing incredulously, “Stop it, you don’t have to tell me you’re not lazy because I know you’re not.” 

His voice was soothing and sure, not a hint of uncertainty behind it that made you think otherwise. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at your own negativity that you promised yourself you would stop doing but would always have a habit of. 

“Saying it out loud makes me feel like I am.” You attempted to laugh at yourself to lighten the spirits, but Steve let out a disapproving grunt and you almost see the visual of him shaking his head. 

“You’re such a hard worker, I mean, that’s why Nance picked you. She knew you could do this and I do too.”

Even over the phone he never failed to make your heart melt and cheeks blush. Call yourself cheesy or whatever, but he was the greatest pick me up on days like these. 

Staring up at your ceiling you began getting lost in him despite the lack of visuals. “I kid you not, I think I went back to the grocery store like five whole times. My arms are going to be ripped with how many pounds of flour and sugar I’ve been picking up.” 

He chuckled, trying to picture it in his head. Poor you having to lug bags and bag of flour from the store all the way to your car then back home. 

“You know you could’ve called, I would have come down and helped sooner.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re already doing a lot at work and—”

“Cupcake, I categorize tapes. My job is far from stressful.” His tone went stoic, pretending like he didn’t know what you were talking about.

Steve did more than just categorized tapes. He dealt with the horrible and impatient customers, even the rowdy teenagers who kept wandering back to the adult film section. He put up with a whole lot at work — but you were never someone he had to deal with.

A relief of sorts is what you were – someone he’d call or run to with no hesitation because it just felt right. No obligations, no whys or hows,  just because in his bones, you felt like that person for him. 

His almost.

You’re the one he looked forward to calling after a long hard day knowing that you would be able to make him forget all about it. He could lay there in his bed, eyes shut with the phone glued to his ear and you on the other end of it. Maybe it wasn’t the best substitute for sleep, but in his eyes it was the best rest he could ever get if you weren’t here laying beside him like before. 

Still, your apologies never ceased, too concerned for his own wellbeing. “But you’re on your feet all day and you’re really tired and—”

Steve cut you off, stopping your unnecessary yet thoughtful concern for him. 

“And I still would’ve come down even if I was all of those things. You don’t have to worry about bothering me, you know you never do.” He said it sincerely, a happy and eased way about it like there was no other way to explain it. 

“How do you always do that?” You murmured, voice finally settling into a more relaxed mood the longer you spent away from the chaos.  

“Do what?”

You wiggled around, tapping your fingers against the phone, “You know what I need to hear even when I don’t say it outloud.”

Steve had always been great at that and for someone who claimed to never be good with words, he just knew exactly what to say. He’d like to think it was because the kids needed constant advice in their teenage lives and he came to be better at guiding and explaining things to them. 

But you never asked for advice nor did he feel like you ever needed it. Everything that he’d spew to you came from the bottom of his heart, things that he always wanted to tell you without reservation. 

He pretended to think for a second before replying obviously,  “Hmm, maybe it’s because I care about you?” 

“You care about me?” 

His laugh echoed lightly, thinking you were playing around because how could you not know? Your silence answered his question, and he just knew he had to tell you how serious he was. 

“Of course I do!” You could tell he sat back up on his bed, voice a little stronger now as he continued, “I care about you and I can’t stand hearing you talk so badly about yourself when I’m head over—”

A loud ring erupted through the receiver, a second call on the other line completely cutting Steve off as he was about to put it all out on the table. 

“Shit!”  You winced pulling the phone back and rubbing your ear from where it was ringing. 

“What!?” Steve shouted loud enough to hear with the phone still pulled away from you. 

Looking down at the display, the last name ‘BUCKLEY’ illuminated in bright orange. 

“Umm, Robin is calling… I left her a voicemail and she’s probably worried and I—”

Steve let out a breath of relief, sighing out as he settled back on the springs of his bed. “You can put me on hold, it’s okay.”

“O-okay, sorry, just a minute.” You squeaked, switching the line with your brain still processing what he was on the verge of saying. 

“Hey Ro—”

You couldn’t even get the full greeting out before her voice came to you rushed — you could imagine that’s exactly what Steve heard when you picked up his call a few minutes ago. 

“Oh thank god! I thought something bad happened for a second. Are you alright?” She asked worriedly.

“Yeah! Just kinda had a mini breakdown, but I promise that I’m—”

“Do you want me to come down? I can call Steve or Nance and get a ride there.” She offered quickly without hesitation. 

You truly had the best friends in the entire world… how did you manage to get so lucky?

“No! No! I swear I’m okay… it was just some stupid thoughts about the farmers market thing. You know the stress and whatever.” You reassured her, hoping she wasn’t too strung up on it. 

“Are you sure?” She pressed again just for good measure, “I know Steve would drop everything for me and him to come down and help you.” Her voice lifted with a bit of teasing that you caught. 

You smiled self indulgently, happy to know you had people who were willing to come all the way down here to be with you — it showed that they really cared, and even if you didn’t need them to, hearing it outloud warmed your anxious heart. 

“You’re so sweet, Ro…but I swear, I’m okay! Steve actually called me.” 

“He did?” She gasped. 

She wasn’t actually too surprised considering that these days after scoring your number all Steve would talk about was getting home from work to give you a call before you headed to bed. 

The next morning she would be bombarded with him going on and on about the conversation you two had — little things like what you had for dinner, a stray cat you started feeding, entirely mundane yet sappy things that had him hooked because you were the star of those stories. 

Nevertheless she loved hearing about it — a perfect start to her morning, lunch break, and the entire shift of the day before doing a full repeat the next day. 

“Yeah, he’s on the other line right now.” 

A squeal ensued from her end, one that made a smile pop upon your features because her happiness always had its special way of radiating and lifting up everyone around her.

“Oh perfect! Merge the call!”

“Are you sure? I can tell him I’ll call him back later.” You offered, wanting her to know she would always have your full undivided attention. 

“You can merge it! I actually have something important I really want to tell the both of you if it’s okay?” She said making your mind race with a million different things she could be planning to tell you and Steve if it was this important. 

“Of course, give me a sec.” 

You heard her “mhm,” before you switched lines again and this time Steve’s whistling came through the receiver.

“S-sorry, she was checking in.” You cleared your throat, not doing a great job of masking the croak. 

“Was she jumpy?” He joked, knowing she had a habit of doing that all the time. 

“A little,” you snickered, “she wants me to merge the call. Has something important to tell us.”

“Okay, cool, yeah that’s fine. She called out of work today so I didn’t get to talk to her all day.”

Robin calling out of work was a rarity, sure the job was a little boring, but working with her best friend compensated for that. Steve was usually up to date in advance whether she would be calling out or not – so getting to work today and not seeing her was incredibly weird. 

You cleared your throat once more, fingers twirling around the cord as you spoke kindly, not wanting to let what he did for you go unnoticed. But Steve never did things to be thanked for, you knew that for sure, but still, you would cherish him for taking the time out of his day to be there for you. 

“But umm, I really appreciate what you said earlier, y’know… encouraging me and whatnot.” Your voice was soft, filled with a mixture of gratitude and warmth. 

“You know all you have to do is ask and I’ll be your biggest supporter.” Steve responded happily, making sure that it stuck with you. 

Your fingers hovered over the merge button, contemplating your choice of words before you decided to let it go at the last second. “And Steve?” 

“Hmm?”

“I-I care about you too…a lot, just so you know.” 

You said with an oath-like-whisper hearing his breath hitch with a thick swallow. Clearly he was a little taken aback by your sudden leap of boldness that was usually hidden under your bashfulness that he found endearing, nonetheless. Before Steve could say anything else, you clicked the merge button, a quick static ringing through the receiver before it cleared up. 

A joyful Robin came through the other side. “Can you guys hear me, alright?” 

Steve coughed, trying to steady his heart that was pumping faster as he hung onto your words for dear life. He tried to think of something else in the meantime, knowing he needed to at least survive this phone call before he got to pace his room for the rest of the night and replay the words in his head. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Yuppers!” 

You obviously did a better job at trying to seem nonchalant.

Robin squealed, the sounds of her getting comfortable on her couch filling the line before she spoke again. 

“I have some really big major news to spill but—”

“But first tell me why you called out of work, dingus? I had to deal with Keith all alone today!” Steve retorted. 

She scoffed loudly, “God, do you ever shut up and listen, Harrington? It’s a part of my story.” 

“Wait, you called out of work because of this big major news?” You asked suspiciously. 

“Yeah…well actually no! I called out of work for a reason that led up to the big major news.” She informed you both. 

“Oh! Well, whenever you’re ready!” You chirped ready for the news. 

“Okay so remember Vickie?” 

Steve clicked his tongue a few times, “Isn’t she still dating that jerk from Purdue?” 

“Not since last month!” 

“What happened between them?” You wondered, not knowing much about Vickie and her history with Robin. 

There was a heavy sigh before a devastating confession. “He cheated on her.”

“Ouch.” You grimaced, biting down on your lip. 

“What an asshole.” Steve muttered. 

“Exactly! But anyway, we ran into each other this morning at the bus stop and we kinda just hit it off and we spent the day together then she kissed me!” 

You gasped and Steve cursed. The both of you were shocked by not only hearing about poor Vicky’s cheating situation, but on top of all that, the fact that she and Robin had swapped spit after how many months of pining. 

“You blew me off for a girl!?”

“Oh shut up Steve, as if you didn’t do it to me before either!” 

If you weren’t so flabbergasted, you’d make a comment about how the two still fought like siblings even over the phone, but you didn’t, too intrigued and wanting to know more details. 

“Did she initiate the kiss?”

“Yes!” 

“Like a peck kiss or like a full fledged make out kiss?” You pressed.

“I-I don’t know! Maybe a little bit of both? I was just following her lead, okay? Last time I kissed a person was back in sixth grade when Donny Humberford dared me to… it was unpleasant and quite honestly was my awakening that I never liked boys.” 

You giggled as Steve went for his round of questions, the two of you taking turns like it was some sort of interrogation. 

“Well, c’mon tell us, was this kiss at least pleasant.” 

Robin sighed a sigh that sounded straight out of a rom-com, you could picture her kicking back her legs and looking so enamored by just the memory itself. 

“The most pleasant kiss I think I’ll ever get.” She sing-songed cheerfully.

“What about if Phoebe Cates kissed you?” He challenged.  

“Okay, woah, that’s totally unfair! Vickie and Phoebe are both hot babes!”

You jumped in again, this time with a very important question that needed to be answered. “Did you foot do the pop up thing?” 

Stuttered words came from Steve, who had no idea what you were talking about. “The what? Is that some sort of sex thing?” 

Robin snorted. “Ew no!” 

“Steve!” You shrieked, covering your face. 

“What?! You said foot and thing in the same sentence and that makes me think of some really gross stuff that I don’t even think the rated X section has.”

Robin gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth, “You’re totally right! Wait, do you think Keith stole all the foot fetish tapes?” She speculated seriously. 

“What the hell is wrong with your boss?” Your face twisted up in horror. 

“He’s a creep.”

Steve was next with a considerate yet weird warning, “Please, if you ever come to visit us, do not wear opened toed shoes at the store.”

“Jesus Christ, yeah, I’ll make sure I remember that. Anyways, the foot thing!” 

“Oh yeah, the foot thing!” Robins snapped gleefully. 

“Would someone just explain the goddamn foot thing?” Steve complained. 

“You know! When you kiss someone you really really like and your foot does that little pop up thing because you’re enjoying it because it’s with them.” You tried your best to explain. 

“Guys don’t really do it though… they pop something else, if you know what I mean.” Robin cracked with a laugh before Steve choked on his spit at the vulgary. 

The line reduced to chortles, you and Robin dying at the joke, while Steve couldn’t help but smile, waiting for you both to settle. 

“And you want to call me filthy?”  He pointed out when it finally died down. 

“No but seriously, she kissed me out of nowhere and I didn’t get the chance to really even process it and I’m just realizing that and, holy shit! I kissed Vickie!” 

“She actually kissed you first but okay.” Steve corrected, though Robin didn’t seem to catch it. 

“Vickie and I’s lips were pressed together! I felt her mouth on mine! Oh my god! I kissed Vickie!”

It wasn’t long before the call was filled with her squeals and screams, Robin completely forgetting about you and Steve while she remembered it all in her own world. Her heavy panting filled the line then, taking a breather from the screams and her recollection of every detail. 

“Honey, do you wanna process that alone?” You suggested indulgently, hoping she would take you up on the offer because it really was a special moment you wanted her to process. 

Thankfully she didn’t even hesitate. “Yeah, I gotta go!”

“Bye-bye now, don’t dream too much about it.” Steve sing-songed before she hung up with a heavy clunk. 

The static rings through for a millisecond as she disconnects, before you and Steve are alone once again. Good-natured and proud laughter comes from both of you, so ecstatic for your friend. 

“That’s adorable! I’m so happy for her!” You gushed with a squeal. 

“I should’ve known something was up! She never calls out of work like that and doesn’t give a reason why.”

“I bet you she’s screaming into her pillow right now.” 

“Or she could be pacing her room with her face in a pillow and screaming.” He added as you both agreed that it would be a very possible ‘Robin-thing-to-do.’

Steve seized the moment with a question of his own. “Have you ever done the foot thing?” 

Laughter came out the second he finished the query, you just couldn’t help the fact that he was asking about that all of a sudden – not that you minded, but you just never imagined Steve Harrington asking about a corny foot pop. 

“Now all I can think about is foot fetish.” You fake gagged. 

“You’re so dirty minded! Okay, okay, has your foot ever done the pop thing…that’s better?”

“Much better,” You crooned, thinking for a moment about all the times in which you’ve been kissed with nothing sticking out, “And, no, I don’t think it’s ever happened to me.” 

“Really?” He sounded surprised, as if it was some sort of shock that you’ve never experienced such a thing. 

“The foot pop is, like, totally memorable, trust me.” 

Steve was half regretful of bringing up such a dumb question, hoping it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. The last thing he wanted was to remind you of your ex that he already knew you weren’t too fond of. 

“Well who knows? Maybe one day right?” He put it out there into the universe, crossing his fingers that his optimist came through the way he wanted. 

Your small laugh was all it took for him to know everything was just right. “One day.” 

Perhaps it was the hour and the lack of sleep you had been getting for the past couple of days, but you let out a yawn, apologizing in the middle of it as Steve chuckled and told you not to worry about it.  

“I should probably go… I need to get started on the cupcakes and package the cookies up.” You groaned, reality hitting as you looked around your place that was still a complete disaster, and didn’t magically clean itself up. 

“Why don’t you call it a night huh? I’m sure you worked all day.” 

Steve’s voice filled with the same concern as the beginning of the call, still not understanding why you were putting yourself through so much when you were already doing the best you could.  

“Been up and moving since 7 a.m..” You yawned again, rubbing your eyes. 

Steve shook his head, not that you could see him, but he was sure you must have felt his discontent for overworking yourself through the phone. 

“You did so much work, you deserve a break.” He repeated sternly. 

You rubbed your forehead, knowing he was more than right. “Yeah but then that means I’ll still have more work to do tomorrow and—”

“And I’ll come and pick you up and we can bake the rest of the stuff at my place. I’ll help and it’ll be a nice change of scenery for you.” 

Steve was notorious for doing and saying things without using his head, oftentimes leading to horrible and awkward situations. But when it came to you, more times than not, everything he did and said was without thinking of himself and more for the best interest of you. 

He knew you’d been bending over backwards for this event and the last thing he wanted you to do was go at it all alone. Steve knew you were more than capable of doing it all by yourself, but he didn’t want you to – not when he was there willing and able.

“Don’t you have the morning shift tomorrow?” You suspected, having both his and Robin’s schedule memorized by heart. 

“Well Robin owes me so not anymore.” He retorted cheekily. 

Sure, maybe he should have given Robin a break considering kissing Vicky to be an incredible milestone, but if he could survive a shift alone with Keith so could she. Plus, it was for you, so Robin couldn't be too upset if she wanted to. 

“If you’re going to call out I don’t want to make you do more work.” 

“You’re not making me, I want to.” 

He’d do anything when it came to you without even second guessing it. There was something deep down inside of him hoping that you knew and understood that because he needed you to. 

“You’re too good to me.” Your chest rose and fell, a happy breath that was a glimmer of hope to his ears that you knew. 

He took his own breath, glancing over at the alarm clock on his bedside table, “Get some rest and I’ll be over in the morning.” 

“I could drive there if you want? Save you some gas and let you sleep in a bit more.”

“I know you could, but I want to. So please?”

Why Steve was so generous when it came to you, you’d never really understand considering the mess you were. A part of you liked to think that you were the mess he wanted and there was nothing more you wanted to be than his. 

“Y-yeah, sure, thank you.” You stuttered, gripping the phone tightly 

“Get some sleep okay? You deserve it.” He cooed, a smile leaking through his voice that you could see even over the phone. 

“I will.” You promised to smile at the thought of getting to see him so soon. 

“Night sweetheart.”

“Night Stevie.”

Steve shouldn’t like the idea of waking up at the crack of dawn and proceeding to drive to a town an hour away on the one time he called out of work — but when it’s Roane and he’s coming for you, he loved the journey.

He felt more lively than ever even if he had woken up ten minutes before his alarm and ran out of instant coffee to make before he left. All of the little inconveniences didn't matter when he was taking the roads that led straight to you.

There’s a vast difference between the town he grew up in and yours. Hawkins should feel like home, and at times, it really is — his closest friends are there, but then again his parents always come back eventually. And when they do, it feels less than that — like him playing a game of hide and seek trying to avoid them until they go out of town again.

Sometimes there were moments where he just wished that they both packed up their things and relocated permanently so he could stop banking on the moment where they finally woke up and made an attempt to be an actual family — the one he still yearned for even after all of these years of disappointments.

It’s the harsh truth he’s had to face since he was a young teen realizing that they’d always come home, but never for him. A feeling of cruelty that reminded him that no matter how patient he was, his parents would never notice the way they’ve neglected him through the years.

He kept quiet, stayed hidden in plain sight when they were around knowing they could never make up for it — the damage had been done and his home was never going to be home as long as they were around.

But in hindsight, that’s why he enjoyed visiting Roane these days.

He didn’t have to hide or worry about running into one of his father’s friends from the office or his mother’s girlfriends, trying to uphold a conversation with them that he clearly didn’t want to be in. He knew close to nothing about his parents and their whereabouts and didn’t want to unless it was them coming home early and him needing to leave for the next few days.

In Roane there’s no one he’s hiding from… just someone he’s desperate to get to.

But of course an early morning in town isn’t complete without a pit stop at Taylor’s. He’d be damned if he showed up at your doorstep at this hour without a dozen cronuts and your favorite coffee.

He was welcomed with the chime above the door, inhaling the smell of freshly ground coffee and baked breads, a type of homeyness that could never be replicated unless it was coming from your kitchen. 

Like second nature he knew what to get, an order of assorted cronuts, your rose latte with an extra pump of vanilla syrup, and his very plain iced mocha with an extra shot of caffeine to get him through, but he doubted he really needed it when you’d be there beside him the whole day.

“It’s going to be $19.89.” The cashier announced, ringing up the total and he nodded, reaching into his back pocket.

Flipping open his wallet, there was a giddy smile that spilled on his face. The yellow notepad paper folded up and placed within the clear pocket of the billfold, your handwriting reading ‘to: stevie <3’

It’s probably the worst way to store his most prized possession, but the damn thing got him through long work days and even longer ones at the arcade when Max and El begged for $5 to spare — he doesn’t mind them asking if every time he opens his wallet, he’s greeted by something that reminds him of you.

He probably looked like a psycho taking too long to grab a $20 bill with him distracted. Finally sliding the cash across the counter, he waited for his change before tucking it back into his wallet and stuffing the receipt into his pocket and stepping off to the side waiting for the drinks to be done.

“Steven!”

The greeting came from the woman walking through the front door, the chime of the bell above her not at all audible with her voice bellowing within the small space. She wore a big big smile, arms held out wide as she approached him.

He cracked a grin, letting her pull him in as he hugged her warmly. “Dorothea.”

She was just as lively at seven in the morning as she is at ten at night at the diner.

“I haven’t seen you around in a while. You two haven’t stopped seeing each other already have you?” She lifted a weary brow, voice laced with a bit of teasing. 

Steve shook his head, shyly smiling at her insinuation of what you two had going on. “I’ve just been working a lot, these days. I’m going to see her right now, just came by to pick up some breakfast for us.” He gestured towards the counter of packaged goodies. 

“Aren’t you such a gentleman? You know if I could clone ya, I would!” She pinched his cheek playfully.

God, she reminded him of his great grandmother he hadn’t seen since he was seven.

“That’s uh…very sweet of you. Thank you.” Steve smiled sincerely, hoping he didn’t look too strained. 

She gripped onto his arm, squeezing as she smiled from ear to ear. “Well tell her I said hello! She hasn’t been to the diner in a while, must be locked up in her apartment painting or something.”

“That and baking.” Steve replied with a proud grin. “She’s in charge of a booth at the Hawkins market tomorrow.”

“No kidding?” She tilted her head, strikingly, always amazed at the amount of things you were able to juggle. 

“You should come, she’ll be happy to see some familiar faces around.” He extended the invite warmly, cursing himself for not having a flyer on hand to give her in case. 

“Order for Steve.”  

He gave her another smile, “Hope we see you there,”

“I’ll try my best, pumpkin! You two enjoy your breakfast, now.”

And he was off, back on track to his destination with the goods secured knowing it would make your morning better even if you were not so much an early bird. It’s little things like this that he knew he could do to make your day a little less stressful especially since he anticipated plenty of baking for the next few hours.

But he hoped with his presence you’d find it in yourself to not put so much pressure on yourself. He was there for a reason, wanted to give you a hand and take some of it off your plate so that you could relax a bit.

Sure, he didn’t really know much about baking, but he was willing to learn for you.

The drive to your place was short, not too far away from the cafe. Your apartment complex was tucked away from the main parts of town, hidden just a few miles away from Taylor’s and the diner.

It was a quiet yet cozy neighborhood, everything about it screamed your name. 

Flowers of all kinds littered the boulevard, bright yellows and pinks peeking out through the tall green grass and dancing in the sun, accompanied with a light breeze of air as he drove by.

Stray kittens and puppies roamed the sidewalk like community pets, nuzzling up against the ankles of children who walked hand in hand with their parents and siblings towards the bus stop for school.

Tall oak trees that had been standing for years lined the sidewalks housing birds and their babies on branches where they also got the best view of the sunrise at their peaks.

Elderly couples mingled with others, dressed in their cozy morning attire and some still in their pajamas hoping to get some exercise in the summer nice weather that would soon be replaced with autumn.

Quite frankly this place held everything and more that Steve wanted for his life. The atmosphere filled with some sort of magic potion that had him wanting to stay forever if it meant that he got to walk these same sidewalks and drive down the same roads with you by his side.

It was stupid and far-fetched idea considering the circumstances he was in, but he’d still like to think that someday this would be the place he called home. Somewhere where he didn’t have to just watch happy people living their lives with the ones they loved, but where he could be doing the same too.

“Here we are.” Steve whistled, turning his wheel into the complex a few blocks away from the main homes.

He was glad you lived on the ground floor, not because it would save him time to take all the items into yours, but because your place greeted him through the windshield every time he pulled up and placed his car into park next to yours.

Your front porch, while not having much space, was still decorated with everything that made you, you.

Fresh herbs planted in a small basin that sat on the railing of the entrance and a trellis of green vines resting against the wall beside your front door. There was a welcome mat placed at the doorstep along with a pair of gardening boots that were too big your size, an attempt to scare off potential burglars who want to mess with a hypothetical giant with a size 10 foot — Steve laughed like a maniac when you told him about that.

He shut the car off, reaching for the coffees and juggling the box in one hand as he shut the door with his hip and approached your front door steps.

Setting down his drink, he brought his fists up to the door knocking firmly. “Sweetheart, it’s me!”

He waited, listening to hear your voice call out for him followed by your footsteps thudding against the wooden floors as you ran towards the door, but all he heard was silence. Not even the sound of music playing through your record player or the morning news on your television.

Just pure silence.

He frowned, knocking again this time a little louder. “You in there? It’s Steve.”

Still no answer. 

He pressed his ear to the door, complete silence, not even a peep of water running from the shower which confirmed his suspicion that you were still very much asleep. Though he wasn’t surprised, you were probably in bed sleeping soundly after all the work you did yesterday. 

Steve set the items down on the porch, looking around the area until his eyes landed on the pot tucked away in the corner  — it was a fake succulent where you planted a spare key. He tried to tell you how unsafe it was to keep a key out there in the open but you claimed no one would try to pluck a key out of a creepily real looking cactus.

Smart girl you were. 

“Gotcha.” He smirked, plucking the key away from the bottom of the pot and approaching the door with it in hand. 

“I’m coming in, cupcake.” Steve called out one last time with a knock. A warning, hopeful that you finally had woken up but to no avail there was still silence.

He sighed, sticking the key into the lock and turning it open and carefully pushing the door in not wanting to startle you. But alas, he didn’t think that it was even possible when you were cramped up on the couch sleeping soundly. 

“Oh, christ.” He said under his breath, quietly stopping in his tracks. 

You had a blanket partially pulled over yourself keeping you warm enough to bear the entire night. Your hair was sprawled out across the cushions, strands resting along your cheeks. You slept like a baby, curled up in an awkward yet comfortable position. 

Steve quickly picked up the coffees and baked goods, shutting the door as quietly as possible as he toed off his shoes and rested the items onto the coffee table.

He looked towards the kitchen, finally aware of the sheer magnitude of work you had been doing. Sure it was a bit of a mess, but he was relieved a bit to know that you got some rest like he suggested. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve whispered softly, bending at the couch where he shook your shoulders gently.

You only stirred, keening as you nuzzled yourself deeper into the cushions, eyes pinching tighter to stay asleep. He felt terrible for having to be the one to wake you up, but it had to be done. 

“Honey, it’s almost seven… you gotta get up.” He spoke a tad louder, brushing back your hair out of your face until you pressed your cheek to his hand, gluing it there so he couldn’t move. 

“Hmmm, no it’s not.” You argued sleepily with your eyes still closed, licking your lips as you remained comfortable. 

You were cute even at this early hour and he would have loved to let you stay in bed but he knew it would throw off your entire game plan and have you rushing more than you already were. 

“C’mon doll,” He shook you again, this time with enough firmness to get your eyes pinching and peaking open. 

He gave you a small smile, mouthing ‘good morning,’ as you stared blankly at him, not a single thought behind your tired eyes other than it had to have been a dream that felt too real. 

“I had to use the key to get in… you fell asleep out here last night.” His voice was faint, not wanting to rudely pour all this information on you so early in the morning.

Clear confusion accompanied the tiredness, just starting to really wake up and fathom that Steve was hovering above you and it wasn’t a trick your brain was playing on you.. 

“W-what?” You yawned, shutting your eyes again and giving them a rub. 

“It’s 7 in the morning, sweet thing. You overslept a little.” His thumb moved up to caress the skin under your eyes, soothing your harsh rubbing. 

You moaned out an objection, shaking your head against his hand, “No, I didn’t.” 

He laughed, shaking his head at your positivity before finally pulling his hand from your cheek to lift his sleeve and hover the watch over your face.

 “Look, honey.”

It took you a second, eyes still clouded with fatigue as you squinted up at the hands of the clock. Slowly you began to process it, the short hand pointing sharply at the 7 and the mere fact that Steve was in fact before your eyes with the purest look of fondness despite the hour. 

“Holy shit!” Your eyes widened, pushing the blankets off yourself in a haste and sitting up. 

“It’s okay—”

Your eyes darted to him, frowning deeply, torn between embarrassment and stupidity for having him wait out there for god knows how long. 

“I swear I set a timer for fifteen minutes,” you huffed, pointing towards the coffee table for the stupid kitchen timer that he proceeded to pick up and shake. 

“I was supposed to take out the trash and pack up the cookies.” You explained, watching as he sat it back down and gave you a reassuring shake of his head, unbothered by the situation. 

“It’s okay, maybe you just didn’t hear it.” He tried, hoping you would give yourself the benefit of the doubt instead of beating yourself up.  

You took a deep breath, offering a tight smile as you patted the space next to you and gathered the blankets over your shoulders. He took a seat, getting comfortable beside you, watching how you closed the space until your knees were knocking against each other. 

“I’m really so sorry… were you waiting long?” You glanced over to him.  

He shook his head, reaching over to brush your hair over your shoulder. “Nope, I just got here. Thought I told you to rest up last night?”

“You did,” You said guilty, watching his hand drop back down to his lap, “Buuut I just wanted to get a few more things done and I was supposed to have a power nap then clean the place up.”

You combed your fingers through the roots of your head, resting your elbows on your knees as you realized the mess was still very much there and Steve had to be here to witness the catastrophe.

Just as quickly as his hand dropped to his lap, it came back out to rest over your knee, fingers rubbing assuringly as he gave you a sequence of squeezes to get you looking at him again. 

 “S’okay, you needed it.” He assured you, his touches never ceasing as his chin poked out towards the coffee table. “I got you some coffee and your favorite.”

Sure enough there was a box of piping hot cronuts filling your apartment with their decadence, and a cup of your favorite morning drink rested right beside his half finished one. 

Steve’s generosity was something you never thought you could get used to, but by now you should’ve known that he always went above and beyond… at least for you. 

“You didn’t have to.” You whispered thankfully, closing your eyes as you tilted your head onto his shoulder.  

He slotted closer to you, keeping his thumbs rubbing your skin in random patterns as you felt him shake his head against yours, simply murmuring, “I wanted to,” in the quiet space. 

For once, in the last few days that you spent in the haze of stress and anxiety, today felt like the calmest morning you had all week. Despite you nearly burning your apartment down and falling asleep in the living room in less than 24 hours, with Steve here, it seemed like he brought some sort of magical potion that had you thinking everything was going to be okay. 

It was difficult for your heart to swell and get tight in the confines of your chest when you realized that peace could be this. The two of you spending mornings like this, even when you were the farthest thing from peace – maybe it was him who could give it to you. 

The two of you sat around for a few minutes in complete silence, just enjoying each other's presence for what it was worth right now. Something about it felt domesticated in the best way possible, knowing the simplest things in life like this were free. 

“I’m gonna go shower really quick.” You announced, slowly pulling away from his side and stretching your arms out.  

He retracted his hand from your skin, being the first to stand up, “I’ll put your coffee in the fridge for now.” Steve headed towards the kitchen with your drink in hand. 

Your feet continued across the floors padding towards your bedroom, bed still freshly made having not slept on it the night before. Sure your back should have been aching from sleeping on the less than suitable couch, but you got the rest you needed and that’s what mattered.

You pulled open your closet, settling for a loose dress to sport instead of jeans knowing they’d probably be covered in flour and sugar by the end of the day. You pulled your towel from the hanger on your door and walked across the hall towards the bathroom.

Catching a glance at yourself in the mirror, you looked exhausted — the clear fatigue that had been building up over the last couple of days settled and ended up with the after effects of the burnout showing on your skin. A cold shower was what you needed, icy water cascading your body, doing its very best to wake you up and rid you of the exhaustion. 

You didn’t keep Steve waiting long, out of the shower in less than fifteen minutes and by then you could hear the slight clambering of dishes coming from the kitchen. 

“Have you eaten yet?” You shouted loud enough to hear, combing your fingers through your semi-damp ends.

More clambering came through the door, before you heard a loud dramatically loud scoff, “Without you? Of course not!” 

You grinned in the mirror, rolling your eyes at his quick wit before finally shutting off the lights and heading down the hallway to see what he was up to. 

Once you got him in sight, his hands were drying the dishes in the rack and there was no longer the clutter of the dirty ones in the sink. He stacked the mixing bowls on top of one another before noticing your presence lingering behind him. 

“I took out the trash and did some dishes. Didn’t want to get started without you.” He hung the damp towel over the oven handle before gesturing over to the empty trash can that was once overflowing.

“Steve, you’re a guest.” You chastised, going around the kitchen to pick up the small bits of trash that stuck around.  

“A considerate one at the least.” He shrugged his shoulders, following you around like a lost puppy and offering his hand out to take the remnants of the garbage from you to toss into the bin himself. 

“Well, thank you.” You grinned, moving around him to throw it in trash, before he grunted out a snicker. 

“C’mon let’s sit down and eat before we get going.” 

He had already brought some plates out, moving next to the drawers to grab some utensils. For whatever reason, warmth bloomed in your heart, happy to see that Steve was just as comfortable in your home as you were in his. Simplicity in him knowing where things were was a sort of happiness you couldn’t explain. 

You bit your lip, walking over to the fridge to open it before looking over your shoulder. “Did you want me to make some more food?”

He shook his head, opening the box of cronuts and fishing two out for the both of you. “I’m okay, but I could whip up some scrambled eggs for you?”

He looked up from the sweets, seeing you nod your head with a desperate look on your face as you held your stomach. Last night you hadn’t eaten much so you really needed to make up for it by having a hearty meal to set you up for the rest of the day's work. 

“Coming right up.” He drummed his fingers off the dining table, as you switched places. 

The kitchen was soundly, not much with chatter this early in the morning, but with the sizzling from the pan as Steve poured in the eggy mixture and the soft buzz of the toaster oven where you warmed up the  cronuts. It wasn’t like the morning at Steve’s where you waltzed around the kitchen — it was much slower, yet filled with the same amount of domesticity. 

Steve could tell you were still tired, the grogginess seeping slowly out of your bones the more you sipped on your coffee and tapped your toes against the tiles watching the oven closely. You weren’t trying to hide it from him on purpose, but he noticed that with every small yawn you let out, you turned away from him, trying to brush it off with a headshake. 

He didn’t put a spotlight on it though, just happily smiling to himself as he stirred the eggs and watched you in his peripheral vision. The high pitched ding rang through the small space and you sighed contently, slipping on the oven mitt and reaching for a pair of tongs to grab the pastries, plating them nicely on two plates.

“You can start eating if you want.” He insisted, turning his head to follow you when you skimmed past him 

You hummed disapprovingly, setting them on the coffee table before making your way back to him,“No, come on I’ll wait for you. Let me wash the–”

He lunged over, getting in the way of you turning on the faucet, “Stop it, you’re gonna overwork yourself.”

You huffed at the absurdity of the situation, seeing as though he was the one who was already overworking himself and it was barely 8 in the morning. 

“I’ve barely done anything all morning.” You argued with a light laugh, attempting to get past his arms and switch the water on. 

Still he stood his ground, not letting your pushing move him with your nudges, “Considering the amount of work you did last night, you shouldn't be doing anything right now.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest tilting your head at him. “You’re not gonna give up, are you?” 

He shook his head, pointing back at the living room with the spatula still in hand. “Not a chance! Now go sit down, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Fine!” You drawled, heavily stomping your foot down and turning on your heel back to the living room. 

Steve’s eyes never left yours, even when his back was turned to you, he could feel you attempting to tidy up your living room in the slightest way, to which he simply bellowed, “sit and relax,” before you were shuffling back into the couch cushions, mumbling how he had eyes on the back of his head like a mother would to which he laughed. 

The kids would certainly agree. 

After a few minutes, you heard the burner shut off, and his footsteps walking over to you.

“Breakfast is served.” he announced, setting the eggs in front of you.

“You’re an angel.” You looked at him, grinning as he handed you a fork from where it was hiding behind his back. 

“I’m flattered.” He took a seat beside you and picked up his plate, “So tell me what’s the plan for today.”

You took a bite out of your eggs, chewing and swallowing them down. “Yesterday I made the frosting for the cupcakes so today we’re gonna make them and ice them.”

“What flavor?”

“Maple and Raspberry.”

His face twisted, lips curled up before he spoke, “I’ve never heard of that combination before.”

“No silly,” You covered your mouth from giggling, “The maple frosting is for the brown sugar cupcakes and the raspberry frosting is for the hibiscus cupcakes, but they also do have a little bit of raspberry in them.”

His bottom lip jutted out over his top one, nodding at your correction, before he lifted a playful brow at you. “But can’t you tell I trust you so much that I thought Maple and Raspberry would be good together?”

Steve trusted you more than he trusted himself which said a lot considering that he was usually pretty set and stone with the way he did things in his own life. After all, his parents didn't play a big role in his so he had to figure out a lot of it by himself. But when it came to you, trust came easy knowing you wouldn’t drop his hand if you told him you wouldn’t. That was the territory between you both, promising and keeping your word – never letting the other fall. 

“If we have any extras maybe we can test it out.” You suggested with a nudge of your elbow into his arm as the two you both smiled and continued to eat.

“How was work yesterday? I didn’t get the chance to ask you over the phone.” You shifted your knees towards him. 

His face covered with mock horror, while you playfully gasped, watching him set his plate down.“Hell. I honestly think it was the most grueling eight hours of my life.”

“It couldn’t be that bad.” You tried to reason with disbelief in your voice, because really, how bad could it have been? 

“Being forced to work a shift with Keith is literal hell. I mean for one he could not shut up and for someone who claims they love movies, he just kept talking over all of the stupid tapes I put on to try to shut him out.” Steve rolled his eyes at the recollection, so thrilled that he wasn’t stuck in the same predicament today. 

“And isn’t Robin working with him today?” You stifled your laughter, for your dear friend who was probably dealing with Keith all by herself right now. 

There was a devious smirk replacing his distaste for yesterday realizing he had planned it accordingly without realizing.

 “Yep, but she’s got a half day so technically she’s only spending half a day in hell with him.”

“You’re horribly considerate for someone who was upset that she called out for a girl.”

Steve shrugged nonchalantly, knowing he couldn’t be too upset at Robin. After all, she was his best friend and sure he was pissed for having to work with Keith, but he was happy that she finally got to spend time with Vicky, the same girl she had been pining over since forever. 

“Had I known it was for Vicky I would’ve called out too and came down here to help out sooner, but I thought she caught the flu or something.” He turned his nose up, happier that his best friend didn’t catch anything bad except the love bug. 

Your face contorted with irritation at yourself, waving your hand in the air, “Trust me when I say you’d be glad you skipped out on the mess yesterday.” 

He didn’t skip a beat, shaking his head at you being ridiculous because he’d never miss out a chance to be with you.

 “I wouldn’t have minded anyway.” 

While his words were true, and you definitely believed that he wouldn’t have minded considering he cleaned up the place while you were showering, you felt a little hopeless knowing he was picking up the pieces when he didn’t have to. 

“You know I still feel a little bad that you’re spending your day off helping me bake.” You placed the plate onto the table, letting your shoulders sulk deeper with your hands twiddling in your lap. 

“Why?” He lifted his brows, genuinely confused at why you would feel bad for him where there was nowhere else he’d rather be.  

You gave him a small shrug, looking up at him with uncertainty. “Because you should be doing something you want to do or better yet resting in bed preferably.”

He hated when you tried to look out for him more than yourself, immediately taking your nervous fingers away from your lap and holding them in his. You stared at him, holding on tight and wondering what was going to come out of his mouth. 

“I am doing something I want to do with the person I prefer to be with right now.” 

There was a twinge of vulnerability in his tone and you could see the way it painted his features whole. How you could tell, he was telling the truth about wanting to be here with you and not just doing it because he felt obligated to. 

Your heart was seriously going to break itself out of your chest soon. 

“You’re gonna regret saying that once I turn your kitchen into a disaster.” You joked, squeezing his hand in yours and not letting go. 

He pursed his lips, shaking your comment off, preparing for the said disaster in his kitchen as long as you were going to be there. Becoming a deadweight with his hand in yours, you easily pulled his arm up, neck adjusting to get the time on his watch. 

“If I’m planning it out in my head correctly then we should be done by this afternoon and that way you can drop me off before traffic hits and I’ll drive down tomorrow morn—”

“Pack a bag and spend the night.”

“Huh?”

“Just stay the night at mine that way you won’t need to drive down so early for the farmers market.” He explained like you should’ve known it was the plan all along. 

You couldn’t help but throw your head back, staring at the ceiling as you called out his name in faux exasperation.

“Steveeeee.”

“What?” He pursed his lips slyly, pulling you by the shoulders to get you looking at him again, “you’ll get to spend a few extra minutes in bed and you’ll be saving gas. Basically killing two birds with one stone.”

“But I don’t want to be stuck in your hair the entire day.” You protested. 

His brows lifted suspiciously as his lips twitched up trying to resist the grin, “Woah, you plan on gluing yourself to me or something? Cause if you are, I don’t know if I could forgive you for messing up my mane.”

“You’re impossible,” You nudge his shoulder with a weak fist failing to hide your smile, “I don’t want to be a burden. What if you have plans?”

“I do have plans, silly.” He began, reaching for your hand and rubbing his thumbs across your open palms, “and all of them involve you.”

“You know you’re making this very hard for me to decline.” You attempted to harden your features, but to no avail the smile crept through. 

He patted your knee with a victorious look on his face. “Good. We can spend the day baking and prepping then we can sit back and relax. Maybe go out by the pool and sunbathe… Oh! And I got a new tape so we can watch it before bed or something.”

“Sounds tempting.” You fizzled through your teeth, squinting your eyes decisively. 

“That means it’s working and you should say yes.” He whispered, like a voice of reason. 

“Okay.”

“Great, now go pack a bag.” He patted your leg, one, two, three times before standing up and gathering your empty plates in a stack.

“Will you do me a favor while I do that?” You stood, trailing behind him into the kitchen where he was placing the dishes in the sink. 

“Yes, I’ll wash the dishes—”

“No, not that!” You laughed, gesturing him towards the counters where a rack of cookies sat alongside other crafty materials. “I need you to package the cookies in little plastic baggies and tie them off with ribbon.”

“I can definitely do that, too.” 

“I got a few done last night but fell asleep before I could finish.” You picked an example up, showing it to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, I can do the rest.” He took the baggie from your hands, ushering you away with a shoo of his hands. 

You thanked him before heading back into your bedroom quickly grabbing the canvas bag that hung above your door as you sifted through your drawers and closet for some clothes.

You picked out a floral dress for tomorrow's event, and settled for an extra set of intimates — you packed an oversized tee and some jeans in case but you knew Steve would let you borrow some of his if you needed and he still had your pair of overalls that he hadn’t given back yet.

“Do I double knot them?” Steve called out.

“Yeah and you can snip the ends to make them even!” 

“Got it, thanks!”

You slung the bag over your shoulder, drawing the curtains and unplugging your lamp just in case since you’d be gone for the night… maybe even the entire weekend. The only thing left to pack was your skincare products, throwing them in a small pouch and making a mental note to set them on the bathroom counter when you got to his to prevent any from leaking out onto your clothes.

Steve finished off tying the last baggie of cookies, bunny earring them and snipping off little bits of the ends to try to make them look as cute as your sample did.

“What do you think?” He held his work of art up as he heard your footsteps coming closer. 

You grinned, holding your hands out before he plopped it into your palm while you inspected it. 

“They’re adorable!” You giggled, smoothing the frayed edges of the cut ribbon.

“Are you trying to be nice? You can tell me if they look bad.” He pouted, attempting to take it back from you to redo the bow knowing you took pride in anything that was yours. 

You shook your head, keeping it towards your chest and away from him. “No, I’m serious! They look so cute, thank you for doing them.” 

His cheek was met with a quick kiss, before you brushed past him putting down your things on the living floor before sauntering back into the kitchen with a mission to get everything ready to go. 

“Y-you’re welcome,” He coughed out, kindly covering the crack in his voice with a sweet smile before he turned to watch you, “Anything else I can do?”

“Stop being so nice.” You poked out your tongue, beginning to pack the cookies into a brown bag for easier transportation. 

He huffed, helping you without being asked, “Now that would turn me into Mike and I don’t think you’d want that.”

“Do you have some vendetta against him or something?” You questioned, hands hitting his with every grab and toss. 

“Oh we all do” He snorted, swiftly sweeping the bag away from you, before pulling the keys out of his pocket.

“I’ll go put your stuff in my car.”

He proceeded to grab the rest of your belongings, lugging the bag you packed and the other stuff to his car all in one go. You triple checked all the appliances making sure everything was unplugged and turned off before you began drawing all the curtains to completely dim the place for the next couple of days. 

“Ready to go?” 

“Yep, just gonna grab the paintings.” You nodded, pointing to the small crate full of finished canvas that you would be selling at the market. 

He didn’t let you even try, immediately beating you the distance and grabbing the box, holding it on his hip as he held the front door open for you. Sticking by your side as he watched you lock up, being your second eyes and even pulling on the handle for an extra precautionary measure. 

The air conditioning had been running, thankfully cooling down the vehicle as you buckled in and watched from the rear view mirror while Steve closed the trunk shut and rounded his way into his seat and did the same. 

“Why don’t you close your eyes until we get to my place?” He suggested, glancing over to you while turning on the radio trying to find a station you would enjoy. 

A dramatic gasp left your lips as you slapped down his visor, opening the mirror to check yourself out. “Wow, do I look that tired?” You half joked, placing your hands on your cheeks in horror. 

“Stop, that’s not what I meant,” He chuckled, reaching over to flip it back into place with a tight regretful smile, “What I meant to say was you didn’t get much sleep last night and it could help a little bit to just close your eyes before doing more work today.”

“But I feel bad, you’ll probably be so bored in complete silence.”

He wondered if you always worried about him this much and while it was cute, he’d have to tell you to stop eventually, because worrying would do you no good, especially if it was about him. 

“You know, you’re gonna need to stop feeling bad for me all the time.” He lectured, tilting his head at you. 

“I can’t help it when you’re stuck with me.”

“Will you please just try to nap at least?” His voice was more optimistic and you nodded skeptically.  

“Fine, but you have to wake me up if you get bored.”

“Deal. Here, this’ll be more comfy.”  He said, leaning across the console and reaching for the lever to lean your chair back all the way for max comfortability. You covered your face, laughing behind them as you wiggled and got comfier in the seat.

“Comfier?” He brought his hands back to the wheel, watching as you nodded your head with closed eyes. 

“Way better than my couch.” You mumbled, positioning yourself towards him, still getting snug in the confines of his car.

He pulled up the emergency break, beginning the journey with one last look at you. “I’ll wake you up when we get there, sweetheart.”

Steve knew you were a natural in the kitchen — ran that place like it was your second home, but what he didn’t anticipate was how you worked when it came to strictly baking. Perhaps him suggesting the nap on the drive to his place was a great idea considering the fact that you were wide awake and running on that coffee he picked up.

He could barely keep up, straying behind to wherever you would go — oven, pantry, fridge, sink, repeat. It was endearing and far from something that Steve would categorize as chaos, in his eyes this was your comfort, somewhere it all just came to you naturally, which also included dishing out tasks, ones that Steve was happy to take up. 

His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth, brows scrunching towards the center of his forehead while his hands squeezed the piping bag and wrists swirled it slowly around the tops of the cupcakes.

You bent at the hips, looking through the glass window of the oven checking up on the loaves that had been baking, making sure they were rising properly. Standing up straight, you dusted your hands sneaking up behind Steve to catch a glimpse from over his shoulders.

“You’re doing great!” You whispered cheerfully, not wanting to throw him off his focus.

His shoulders only bumped as he chuckled, head tilting abruptly to the side before finishing off the swirl and setting the piping bag down.

“It’s a little crooked don’t you think?” Steve frowned, picking up the treat and holding it out in front of him.

You shook your head, rubbing his shoulders, “They’re perfect and you’re a complete pro already.”

“Okay now that’s a reach.” He placed it down, turning to you with an unconvinced yet charming grin. 

You tucked your cheek into your shoulder, shrugging, “What? I’m being serious! I messed up like a whole dozen cupcakes before I ever got good and here you are only three in and they’re gorgeous.”

“You’re really making me consider switching careers to part time cupcake piper you know that?”

“I’ll hire you on the spot.”

“Geez, offer a man some insurance first.”

Your face twisted apologetically before spreading with a self indulgently smile, “Probably can���t do that, but I can assure you I know how to properly dress a cut if you end up slicing your hand open!” You chirped sweetly, tapping his cheek with an affectionate pat chuckling against your touch.

The ding of the timer set off, prompting you to turn around and make your way back to the oven, slipping on the mits. A gush of hot air enveloped you as you took out the hot loafs, setting them on the stove. Quickly you shut the door, tossing off the mits as you inspected them with your eyes first. 

“How do they look?” Steve asked, coming beside you as you poked the tip of a knife through the center checking if it was baked all the way through.

A quick second to examine the knife to ensure there was no residue was all it took before you nodded, “Wonderful, but they’ll look even better once I glaze them.”

“What do you need?” He rose his brows heading over to the cabinets ready to get whatever you needed. 

Likewise you went towards the fridge, “Powdered sugar and preferably whole milk — ah ha! Whole milk it is.” you clicked your tongue, peeking past the door to see him looking through the tins and bags.

He cursed under his breath, closing the door a bit to meet your eyes. “I don’t think I’ve got any powdered sugar in here. I should've asked you last night if you needed anything before.”

You shook your head, turning back towards the fridge, “That’s okay, we can go to the store together later?” You suggested going to put the milk back. 

He snapped his fingers, pointing at you. “Better idea, why don’t you go now and I’ll stay back and finish frosting up these cupcakes, hmm?”

“I could wait for you, I don’t need to frost them right away.”

“You need a break, sweetheart. I’ll be fine, here,” He paused, walking out of the kitchen with you trailing behind him into the living room, “Take my car and let me give you some cash.”

“Steve, I don’t need your money.” You countered with a light chuckle, taking the keys from him as he reached into his pocket shaking his head.

“No seriously, take it and get whatever you need. I feel like shit for not asking before and making sure I had all the ingredients.”

He truly felt horrible and you could tell in the way he scrunched his brows and shook his head more at himself than towards you. The last thing he wanted was to fuck up your whole process that he knew you always took the time to run through effortlessly. 

“You’re already doing enough, you know.” You remind him with a tender rub to his shoulder, “It means a lot…you talking to me over the phone, bringing breakfast over this morning, and taking all the way here to make sure I wasn’t lonely.”

It was a true sentiment that you spoke and meant every word of. You were sure that no amount of baked goods or thank yous would ever be enough to show Steve how grateful you were.

“I wanted to, you’ve done so much for everyone, me especially.” He knew you went out of your way for everyone including himself, putting everyone first except you. 

“Well, I wanted to.” You assured him. 

“In that case, I want you to take this and get whatever we need. Please?” He placed the bills in the palm of your hand, smiling when you nodded and palmed it. 

“Do you want anything specific? I think I’m just gonna pick up a bag of powdered sugar and a small thing of white chocolate chips for the scones.” You picked up your purse you had thrown onto the coffee table where you arrived.

He shook his head, walking you to the front door and pulling it open, waiting as you slipped back on your footwear. “I’m alright, I don’t need anything. Just drive safely and don’t be scared to use the horn if you need it.”

You let out a laugh, tiptoeing and placing a kiss on his cheek, “I will and don’t stress about the cupcakes, they already look perfect.”

As you buckled your seatbelt and adjusted the mirrors, you took one more look out the windshield, waving a “see you in a bit,” to the boy watching from the driveway. It was funny to think that the first time you’d been there, you had been sitting in your own car anticipating the entire moment of meeting everyone and now you were there in his car knowing you’d be back in no time. 

Hawkins wasn’t new territory to you. You have frequented the place for years, but it was just a little funny that throughout all the years, these roads never led you to Steve, and all your friends for that matter, until now.

The grocery store you walked into was the same one where you met Robin and from there the rest was history. Funny enough, you hadn’t been there since that interaction — it felt like forever but at the same time it had only been a matter of weeks. Time was silly thing, and it just so happened that all the fates aligned in some magical way.

You strolled through the aisles with a small basket in hand, picking up the necessities while also checking out what they had in stock this time of year. It was in the produce section that you ran into the sweetest lady in town, Joyce, who was seemingly glaring at the tower of apples debating on which ones to pick.

“Granny Smiths, Fuji, and Galas are the go-to if you’re gonna use them for baking, but if not then any will do, just make sure none of them have noticeable dents.” 

You snuck up beside her, stifling your laughter as she jumped for the initial scare, then again, but with a smile on her face when she realized that it was you.

“Honey! Oh my god, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” She quickly engulfed you in a hug, before you finally greeted her properly.

“Are you here with Steve?” She asked, looking around to see if he was nearby.

You shook your head, checking out the pile of apples and picking some for you and him as a snack.. “No, he’s actually back at his place frosting cupcakes for tomorrow.”

An impressed smile was plastered on her face, her cheeks lifting with a cheeky blush, “He’s just the best huh?” she teased, as you giggled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Who’s the best?”

The deep voice bellowed a few feet behind you, prompting you to look over your shoulder, and down came Hopper sporting a surprising pale pastel button up, lugging two boxes of Coca-Cola. He gave you a pointed look, something that silently said, “please don’t comment on my non-work attire,” to which you honored, obviously.

“Hey Hop,” You waved, reaching out to give him a small hug after he placed the drinks into the cart. He patted your arm, before letting his drape over your shoulder as you laughed and let him be.

“We were talking about Steve,” Joyce started, “He’s back at home helping her out with the bake sale for tomorrow.”

He peered down on you with a stern nod, “Well isn’t that great. Drove down here yourself? Car not giving you any issue right?”

He really was a dad right down to his core. If you told him how you’ve been avoiding driving your car for the past couple of days, he would probably suggest he go check it out then and there.

“Oh no, Steve actually picked me up this morning and let me take his car to come here for some stuff we needed.”

“He let you drive his car?” He questioned, taken aback and clearly so as he dropped his arm and propped it up on his hip.

“I know, crazy right. He has a lot of trust in me.” You coughed up a laugh, while Joyce piped in something about how she thought it was sweet of him to do.

“Says a lot considering he never even lets me take her for a spin.” He shook his head, dramatically clicking his tongue at all the times he had failed to get the keys to the Harrington vehicle. 

Joyce groaned, tilting her head at him.“That’s because you’re a forty year old man that drives like a drunk sixteen year old on prom night.”

“Ouch!” He shouted, face coated in fake hurt as she brushed him off.

Turning her attention back to you when you asked, “Will I be seeing you guys tomorrow?”

She smiled brightly, clapping her hands towards herself, “Oh of course! I’m helping Karen run her book exchange booths.”

“And I am acting as security.” Hop announced, plucking an apple and taking a bite out of it.

“Just you? Where’s the rest of your unit?” You pestered him jokingly.

He only shrugged, mouth full of half chewed up apples as he replied.“I have no idea, but the event will need some securing.”

“Honey, it’s a farmers market. I don't think there’s anything to be securing.” Joyce reasoned.

“We’ll see about that.” He shot back with no harm.

Their bickering was always light hearted and fun, something you could appreciate because it was the laughter that always kept the relationship lively. And in any relationship for that matter, laughter was like the heartbeat to it all, something so witty, but essential — you wondered if you and Steve sounded like that from time to time.

You took a deep breath, smiling as you opened your arms, and reached over to give Joyce a farewell hug. 

“Well I should get going, I don’t want to be gone too long.”

“Of course, tell Steve we said hello and we’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Will do!” You said, pulling away, and doing the same to Hopper.

“Bye kid.” He patted your head before letting you go your separate way.

The drive back home was as pleasant as the drive over, just lacking in company. You didn’t think that you’d get used to driving Steve's car without him being there in the passenger, but still, it was a thoughtful offer and it did give yourself some time to clear your head of all the stress that you endured yesterday though much of it was already gone since you woke up this morning. 

You placed it in park when you got into his driveway, grabbing all the grocery bags in one go before you exited the car and made sure it was locked up. The front door was surprisingly unlocked, meaning Steve hadn’t moved since you left. You’d lecture him about leaving the door unlocked when there were freshly frosted cupcakes that burglars would most definitely take first.

“Steve, I’m back!” You called out, toeing off your sandals at the foyer before you made your way into the living room dropping his keys back onto the coffee table.

“Still in the kitchen!”

You lugged the bags along, lifting them in the air as you walked through the doorway.

“I know you told me you didn’t want anything but I ended up grabbing a bag of tangerines and I was thinking we could make some drinks for when we go out to the — oh my god!”

They fell with a heavy clunk to the ground and thank goodness there wasn’t any glass in there, but the poor apples would definitely be bruised. Steve turned his head over his shoulder, quickly shutting off the water as you stared at the loaves sitting on a raised plate as the excess icing dripped off the sides.

“Sur-prise?” He cracked a nervous smile, wiping his hands dry, hoping to receive the right reaction from you.

“You iced the loaves?!”

If your tone came sharper than you meant, he didn’t notice it and neither did you. Steve was too busy watching the surprise wash over your features — the way your eyes widened and mouth hung open.

He leaned against the counters, still watching you until your eyes finally met his. Picking up the index card you had brought from home, and walking over to the pantry, pulling out a now empty bag of powdered sugar, and placing them on the counter.

“I may or may not have lied about the powdered sugar but yeah, I read the recipe card and followed it to the tee.”

He paused, opening a drawer to retrieve a spoon, scooping up a little of the excess that dripped into a bowl before handing it over to you, “Here, give it a taste, please.”

You could tell he was nervous, eyes leaking anticipation while he held it out, his hands nearly shaking. It was cute that he got so nervous, like you could ever be mad at him for trying his hand at something so thoughtful of him to do. So you took the spoon, sticking it into your mouth before you promptly hummed around it, nodding your head at him with wide eyes that should’ve been enough to tell him he did great. 

“Fuck did I mess it up?” He spoke with an uneasy feeling, swiping his finger into the bowl and grabbing a sample to taste, pressing his lips together to try to decipher if something was terribly wrong. 

You shook your head hastily, removing the spoon from your mouth before twirling it in the air, “No you nailed it, like absolutely nailed it!”

Still even with your assurance, he seemed to doubt himself, picking up the bowl for himself, moving it around to test the consistency of the frosting. He held it out towards you, tipping it back and forth. 

“It’s not too runny? I think I added more than a capful of milk.”

Instead of trying to ease his worries with words, you simply rounded the corner, taking the bowl away from him so all he could focus on was you. It was cute that now you could see what Steve meant when he said you go into your head all too much — maybe he was right when he said self-doubt would get you nowhere but a headache. 

“You did perfect,” You began, dusting off the powdered sugar off his t-shirt, looking up at him with a grin, “not too runny, not too thick. Just right.”

It was enough to stop him in his tracks, ironing the worries away in the same way he did yours more often than not. The hand on his chest didn’t leave, when the words stopped, in fact you kept it there, smoothing the wrinkles of his shirt without really thinking much of it, while Steve tried to keep his composure and heart in his chest.

“S-so what did you buy?” He deterred his sights, looking towards the floor where the groceries still sat.

You squinted, hand stopping its movements, as you flashed him a sneaky smile shaking your head before slightly digging your fingers into the dough of his chest. 

“No, we’re not just gonna skim over that whole thing…you lied to me!” You shrilled. 

And like that, the kitchen erupted with laughter, Steve failing to keep up the innocent act, and you beyond astounded that you fell for it. He held his hands up in defense as playfully pushed him away, even stepping back as he tried to move closer, just to be theatrical. 

“Okay technically I didn’t lie lie!” He countered with his hands waving in the air. You crossed your arms over your chest, raising a brow at him,  “I thought I didn’t have enough of it but after you left, I measured it out and like the recipe said, a half cup sugar for each of the loaves and I just so happen to have one cup.”

He was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met: not a chance you could be upset even if it was just pretend. 

Steve had already done so much for you in less than 24 hours. From dealing with your anxiety over the phone, to driving all the way to you, and then on top of that trying to take the stress off your plate.

There was a pinch between your brow, beginning to grow deeper and your lip caught between your teeth. The longer you didn’t say anything, the more Steve caught the tell-tale signs of your guilt knowing you hated that he was doing so much and you finally got a break you deserved. 

He was just as quick to reassure you, stepping forward and testing the waters to see if you’d close the space and to which you did, pouting up at him with an adorable frown until your chest met his in a hug. 

You could feel him smile against your head, hands wrapped around your body as he tightened the hold tenderly, “I wanted to do it. You needed a break.” He murmured into your hair as you chuckled into the fabric of his shirt. 

It felt routine by now, and you didn’t need to thank him verbally when he gave you a nod as soon as he pulled away and saw the sincere look upon your face. The way he was able to read you like an open book felt personal, the only kind of way that you wanted to be read by him. Ins and outs of you already memorized so carefully with little to no room to question if he was right or not.

You didn’t want him to question anything, especially not you.

Taking a deep breath, you shakily let it out, slowly pulling away from each other until you looked over the counters and to the ground. 

“Tangerines.” You called out, moving across the tiles.

“Huh?” 

“I picked up some tangerines at the grocery store.”

You handed him the netted bag of fruits that he easily ripped open and let them spill over the table top, “They’re in season?” He pursed his lips, inspecting the fruit carefully. 

You nodded, reaching out for the remnants of its packaging, smoothing it out to show him the label, “They’re from Long Beach, California.”

It piqued his interest, looking over at you like you’d know the answer to his curiosity, “Do you think they grow on Sunrise Boulevard?”

You giggled, shrugging your shoulders while you unloaded the rest of the items. “Probably. I’ve never been so I don’t know for sure.”

“We should go someday.”

He extended the invitation as if you, a paycheck to paycheck living individual, could ever afford a trip like that in a heartbeat. But it was the fact that he extended it in the first place that had your insides twisting and turning like a lovesick fool.

We. The possibility of you two going together. And he said it as sweetly as it sounded, honey dripping from his lips, with a smile oh so beautiful that you could really believe that maybe you two could go together one day — even if the rest of your friends tagged along.

As long as he was there with you there was always the possibility of we. 

Steve often transported you back to middle school, the days where you caught yourself kicking your feet and blushing like an idiot over a boy who said all the right things. The only difference is Steve didn’t let you crash and burn on the ground. With him, things feel different.

“We should.” You said, lifting your hanging head, not caring anymore about hiding the red flush of your cheeks.

“Good.” He smiled with a nod that he was more so giving himself, his brain spitting out all of the celebratory phrases it could think of after seeing the double vision of your rose blush. 

For once, the both of you seem to be a bit braver in your endeavors, holding the intimate eye contact in the silence of birds chirping from outside the flung windows and the whistle of the wind. If you two were a cartoon animation, your hearts would have been jumping out of your chests, and interlocking hands by now.

His eyes didn’t stare blankly at you, and yours certainly didn’t shoot dangers through him. It was as if you both were swimming in each other, taking one another in without a single word spoken because none needed to be said.

You both knew it and you both could hear it in the silence.

“Why don’t we go for a swim, yeah? Call it a day with the baking and just… just spend some time?”

Together he wanted to say. Something that should’ve slipped freely but instead died in his throat, too scared to let you know what spending time together really meant to him, between the both of you, actually. 

“I’d love that.”

You kicked Steve out of the kitchen, claiming that he could at least let you finish up the cleaning after he had lied to you about the powdered sugar. You could hear him from the stairs, still arguing that it wasn’t really a lie, making you shake your head and snort while you wiped down the counters.

He emerged as you finished washing the sticky icing bowl, wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks with two towels under his arm. You were sure, he caught you staring for a second, before kicking you out the kitchen to go get changed while he made you both drinks and skimmed the pool for dead leaves and critters.

Getting changed in the confines of his bedroom felt like the first time you had been there all over again. Only this time you weren’t a stranger and he’s not waiting on the other side of the door for you to be done. 

This time you’re a piece of his life and he’s waiting for you.

Slipping into your swimwear, you caught a glimpse of yourself in his mirror. It had occurred to you that this was the first time you would be as bare as you would be in front of him. Sure you weren’t a prude or anything, but you always felt a bit shy, and your feelings for Steve didn’t make it any better.

Not wanting to leave him waiting for so long, you plucked a random shirt from his dresser and threw it over yourself before jogging down the stairs and out the sliding door where he stood with the pool stick in hand, grabbing whatever that was floating on the surface.

“I’m back,” You made your presence known, moving beside him to see the small pile of leaves he gathered on the side of the pool.

Your nose turned up at the little critters that crawled away into the grass, before Steve whistled and pointed to the shaded umbrella, “M’almost done over here, I put your drink over there.” 

The pool loungers had been tugged under the shade with towels laid out over the cushions and a variety of snacks sitting along inside the drinks. 

“I just juiced some of the tangerines and stirred it with some tequila and margarita mix I had left. If it’s too strong, I can add more juice or make you another.”

You thanked him, walking over to take a seat and sip on the drink while you waited for Steve to finish the pool maintenance. A lot of his home was taken care of by him, and you could understand why if his parents weren’t home too often – it forced him to take up everything and keep everything in order. 

You wondered why Steve never gave himself the credit he deserved. Only in his early twenties already taking on what most people in their late twenties still had a hard time getting a grove with. Yet he made it look flawless with little to no complaints about his situation and how this responsibility might have been too much for him. 

But deep down in the pit of your stomach, you wondered if this place was really his home or a home he was looking after until he found his. It wasn’t entirely the same situation as yours, hell, you got out the moment freedom striked. 

Steve had everything: enough money to pay for rent at a decent apartment nearby, all the life skills in the world, and himself — you just wondered why he was staying. 

“How is it?” He called out, back facing you from the other side of the backyard where he stuffed the pool scopper back into the shed. 

Your hand raised above your forehead blocking the sun as he walked towards you, the other picked up his drink handing it to him when he sat on the end of your lounger, thankfully blocking the remnants of rays for you. 

You watched him take a sip, nodding his head at himself before looking over to you for your opinion.

“Good! Not too strong actually, I think the tangerine juice is great.” You bubbled, taking another sip of yours before placing it back on the table with a clink. 

He hummed through his drink, before setting it down and taking a look at you. You had made more space for him on the lounger despite him having his own only a few feet away. Your legs tucked under yourself, and arms came to wrap around your midsection, attempting to hide from his gaze despite his t-shirt that was already drowning you.  

You were naturally sheepish, and he knew that but he hoped you weren’t doing this just because he suggested it. The last thing he wanted was to force you into doing something you didn’t want to be doing. Hell, the both of you could be inside sitting in silence, and Steve would be happy, long as you were there. 

“You know, we don’t have to swim if you don’t want to. We could just sit out here and talk, whatever you want okay? Whatever is comfortable—”

“No, no, I’m fine! I—I’m just a little shy, that’s all.” You shook your head, attempting to relax your tense muscles, untucking your legs from underneath you.

He grinned, nodding slowly, as his fingers grazed the sleeve of his shirt on your body. “That's okay, nothing wrong with that,” he assured you, meeting your eyes with a impish glint, “nice shirt by the way.”

“Thanks… for letting me borrow it, I mean.” 

You looked down at the graphic, finally aware that it was an Eagles t-shirt, that unbeknownst to you was one of his favorites and only worn during special sports occasions. However he decided in his mind that anytime you wanted to wear the garment, it was a special occasion in itself. He wouldn’t want to have it any other way. 

“Always.” He grinned, looking down into his lap, not wanting to frighten you with his ceaseless content. 

The heat of Indiana wasn’t as fierce as it had been for the past summer and you hoped it would stick around, at least until tomorrow so you all could survive a pleasant farmers market afternoon. For now, you’d enjoy whatever mercy the season would have on the town with no complaints, especially when there was a mansion with a view sitting right beside you. 

“Wanna get in?” You snapped out of your thoughts, eyes following his movements as he asked you and took another sip.  

You sat up, legs extending over his as you looked out at the aquamarine reflection of the water. “Uh, yeah, do you have any sunblock, by any chance?”

He clicked his tongue, tapping his fingers against your shins. “Shit, yeah, sorry I totally forgot. I think the kids used up the last bottle but I have the spray kind, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” You nodded, lifting your legs and letting him slide away. 

He walked through the sliding door again, and you could hear the slight rustle of him looking through cabinets and cursing at himself that the kids must have misplaced it. With him still busy you took a deep breath, tugging the shirt off your body and smoothing your fingers over your skin. 

You had nothing to be insecure about, not when it came to Steve's eyes. He’d seen you stripped down with your emotions – sadness, insecurity, exhaustion and everything in between. Him seeing you in a bathing suit was far less intimidating than it seemed.  

“Sorry, I think Dustin must’ve knocked the cap off or something but it still sprays and… oh, h-hey.”

The sunblock slipped from his hands, poorly failing to juggle back into his grip in time before it clanked against the concrete. You didn’t give him an answer, simply lifting your brow before you choked out a fit of laughter, hunching over yourself to grab your tummy.

Steve didn’t mean to be such a man, but just a split second ago, you were covered up in his t-shirt which alone made his head spin, and now, he was seeing skin that had never been exposed before and he felt like he might pass out and knock his head into the concrete. Perhaps it would have been a terribly gruesome way to go out, but at least you were the last thing he got to look at before he went. 

“I—I’m sorry!” He stuttered, turning away sharply as his throat bopped with a swallow, “I didn’t mean to say that, it kinda just slipped out. Feel free to totally hit or slap me right now, because that was super duper weird of me and—”

You stood up, prompting him to seal his lips as his eyes slowly turned to watch you pick up the sunscreen, beginning to spray the formula onto your arms, working it into your skin.

You looked up at him through your lashes, washing away his embarrassment as he saw you shake your head.“It’s fine, really. I don’t think it was weird, at all… just super duper funny.” You teased, scrunching your nose at him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, still looking apologetic in his features.“I feel like an idiot,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck stiffly. 

You tilted your head at him, wiggling the bottle in the air. “You can make up for it by getting my back for me?”

He took it from your hands, watching as you spun around and pulled your hair away. “You sure?” 

You hummed, “Positive, unless you’re gonna say ‘hi’ to my behind too.” You joked, turning over your shoulder to see him scoff a laugh before spraying you down.

He was careful, asking permission before his hands even touched your skin, and then again when he had to work the product under the straps of the suit. His fingertips are light and gentle, and at the same time meticulous, making sure not to miss a spot and let a single sliver of your skin get burned by the sun.

“Want me to get yours too?” You suggested, spinning back around when his hands finally dropped from you.

“Only if you want to.”

“Spin, Harrington.” You twirled your finger in the air, grasping the sunblock and getting to work.

It was different, feeling your touch without a layer of clothing in the way. Sure, you’ve both slept in the same bed, practically in each other's arms with him shirtless, and you two definitely touched each other in the softest way that no one else did. But your touch right now was suffocating, eating him whole as he tried to breathe through it and tell himself that you were too good for him. 

“You have a million beauty marks.” You murmured, breath fanning over his neck making him go dizzy. 

He swallowed, turning over his shoulder to watch you rub the product over his shoulder blades, your fingers working mindfully under his gaze. 

“B-beauty marks? Moles, you mean?”

You met his eyes, shaking your head with the softest look upon your face. “I prefer to call them beauty marks.” 

“That’s cute.” He whispered as a reply.

“Yours are too.” You complimented, feeling him exhale soothingly while your hands worked the rest of the skin, ending it off by tapping your fingers against the beauty marks, “all done.” 

You twisted the bottle shut, tossing it on the lounger for later when you two would have to reapply. Turning towards him you ran your hands up and down your arms, waiting for what was next. 

“Are you a strong swimmer?” He lifted his brows, watching you think. 

You blinked, thinking  of all the rare moments you’ve ever been in a body of water there in the midwest. “J-just a little. Why?” 

“Don’t want you to drown.” He said, a smirk growing on his face. 

You shook your head, not understanding what he was getting at. 

“Why would I— Steve!”

 A squeal ripped through your throat, as he scooped you up into his arms bridal style, carefully walking you both over to the edge of the pool where hid your face in his chest expecting a gush of water without warning. He couldn’t help but chuckled, adjusting your higher with a small toss until you wrapped your arms around his neck securely. 

“You ready?” He bellowed out into the air with a hoot, cradling your head gently for extra measure.

“Whenever you are.” You pinched your eyes shut, tucking yourself more into him as if that would make it less worse. 

And like that, cold water engulfed your body all at once. Even in the big splash, Steve’s arms never left your body, keeping himself glued to you as you both came up to the surface and your hands brushed your hair away from your face. 

“I got you,” Steve laughed, shaking the water away from his face and never daring to let his arms leave your body.  

“It’s so cold!” You whimpered, immediately wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling yourself closer to his body where your jaw trembled against his collarbone. 

He could feel you shaking in his arms, taking a bit longer to adjust to the coolness given the fact that you hadn’t been to a pool in ages. His hands ran up and down you back, pausing in between passes to knead your skin. 

“You’ll warm up soon,” He guaranteed, kissing the side of your head before resting his chin on top of yours, the two of you fastened together with a stitch until your shivering fizzled out. 

Usually Steve’s pool was filled with the bustle and shouts of children, water splashing everywhere and him standing on the sidelines with his hands on his hips, reminding the kids not to run on the wet pavement. 

Though today it might have been the most peaceful it’s ever been. 

Turns out, you’re not the best swimmer after all these years with little to no access to any pool or beaches, but you are one hell of a floater, giggling as Steve waded the water beside you, mimicking waves and moving you along the expanse. 

You two attempted to race, doing laps back and forth, but you gave up a few seconds in, elbows resting on the concrete as you watched each stride he took against the water until he was back to you. Rubbing his eyes, he caught his breath and looked at you in disbelief. 

“You beat me?!”

“By a long shot.” You joked, before he playfully rolled his eyes and swam closer to you. 

His hands sneaking underwater reaching out to grip your thighs and throw them over his hips where you quickly held on tight as we took you both to the center of the expanse. There was little to no room between you both anymore, the personal space bubble had popped long ago and now it was a shared out that sheathed the both of you. 

Steve didn’t think he could let you go, even if he tried. 

With your backs beneath the sun, everything felt right. Clearing the air, you breathed in the mix of chlorine and each other. The only sounds were the whistle of the wind, the swoosh of the water around you, and your harbored inhales and exhales. 

It was all consuming in the best way possible. 

For Steve, the city he had lived in his entire life felt as cruel as the loves in his past. And there were a lot of loves: platonic and romantic, yet nothing felt entirely like this – not even close. There was always a flaw, a blemish in time that made the past never work out the way he had hoped, but there was a gut wrenching realization that ever since he saw you, there was no need to look back at those shortcomings. 

He was quieter than usually, eyes studying you without even realizing it, still you didn’t shrink under his view. You followed his sights, watching as his orbs moved from a part of your face to the next, taking you in like an art piece, memorizing every detail like his life depended on it. 

And for a moment a wave of realization washed over you. The way you were in Steve’s arms, the way he was looking at you, the way you looked at him — friends didn’t do the things you both did, especially when your other friends were around. 

Steve was just your friend when he gave you a long-sleeve to borrow, drove down to your art gallery, talked you through your worst moments, offered you a bed to sleep in, slept with you in said bed.

But maybe you and Steve were never destined for the whole friendship thing. You both had crossed so many lines unforgiven, and there was no way either of you could deny the truth by saying goodbye.  

You had to step into it and let go. 

You swallowed, arms tightening around his neck while your chest rose with a deep puff. Only then did he snap out of the haze, blinking slowly until he shook his head and snapped his eyes to yours silently apologizing to which you brushed off with a half-hearted smile. 

“You know, some beauty marks have meaning.” You revealed, hushed tone just loud enough for him to catch against the breeze. 

His breath hitched, tips of his fingers caressing your spine, tracing it up and down absentmindley like second nature.“Y-yeah?”

You nodded, eyes meeting him, almost pleading for him to let you. “Can I tell you about them?”

“Please do.”

His grip on you was tight enough to allow you to let go, letting your arms float freely in the water, before thumbing the marks on his skin delicately.

“You’ve got a bunch of tiny ones by your eyes,” You whispered, carefully swiping over them with your thumbs, “these ones mean that you’re hard working, which you are.” You said obviously. 

He’d be willing to work harder to make whatever this was permanent. To wake up from the dark night he’d been sleeping through since he could remember. He’d do it all, if it meant getting to wake up to you, everyday… to wake up and be yours, it was that simple. 

Your thumb moved down to the double freckles on his cheek, murmuring, “Sensitive.”

“Like a cry baby?” He questioned, still full of jokes despite the inner monologue that was eating his entire being up. 

You breathed through your laugh, holding his face still as you clarified. “Like someone in touch with their emotions.” 

Steve never had the best upbringing, you knew that, and while your understanding of the whole picture was very little, you knew that he didn’t let that define him. He didn’t treat his past as an excuse to be horrible to other people, in fact it made him better. Softer in his approach to situations that he did his best to guide instead of control.  

Honesty was the freckle on his chin. Steve never tried to prove himself to be a good person, worthy of something greater than the things he was given, even when he was. He had trusted the wrong people in the past, did and said things he was never proud of, but he didn’t ever pretend like those moments didn’t happen. 

His reputation, the one that should've scared you away and prevented you from getting to know the real him, was in your eyes, the most delicate thing about him. He didn’t try to put up a perfect facade for you, but he did prove that he threw out all the bad, every cloak that hid his true colors and daggers that fought every truth — he threw them out, not to become someone new, but to finally be him. 

How you wished you could’ve been brave enough to say it all because you wanted him to so desperately know. 

And how Steve wished he could dive into your mind and swim through your thoughts as you stared at him with complete tenderness. Something he didn’t think he could ever get used to because what about him could possibly make you go slack-jawed? He didn’t know what you saw him, but quite frankly he’d listen if you’d tell him. He’d listen to anything you had to say. 

“Any other ones?” His grips moved down to your waist squeezing gently and seeking the connection in the midst of your silence. 

You hummed, giving him a soft smile before he reciprocated it, visibly enchanted by your ability to get lost in him the way he got lost in you. 

“You’ve got a special one right here,” You let your fingers brush over his cupid's bow, caressing the spot back and forth. 

His eyebrows jutted up curiously, breath fanning over your thumb as he spoke. “Special, huh? You’ve gotta tell me now, sweetheart.”

He pulled you in just a little closer, your chest bumping into his and your foreheads just inches apart, and like that, you were a little more brave with nothing left to be scared of. Your hands cradled his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on yours with every word that left your mouth because you wanted him to understand, to see himself the way you saw him. 

“Empathy. The world lacks it, but somehow you’re full of it.” Your words flowed with conviction as does the admiration that sparkled in your eyes. 

“H-how?” His voice broke, as if he could barely believe that he had an ounce of it within him. 

You rolled your shoulders back, determined to get him to see it in himself. “Well for starters, you’re a great listener. Always listening to me ramble about dumb stuff and—”

“Nothing you say is dumb.” Steve said sincerely, fingers caressing your back warmly against the coolness of the water. 

“See, you’re also good at reassuring me.” You grinned, teasing him because he proved himself wrong. 

He rolled his eyes comically as you went on. “And you always try your best to understand me, even when I’m a mess and nothing makes sense. You try and you put yourself in my shoes to try to understand.”

“I always want to understand you.” He murmured, eyes staring into yours with fondness that was difficult to not shy away from, but you forced yourself to bear it. 

“I know, and that’s why you’re such a good person, Steve.” You smiled, rubbing your thumbs along his cheekbones following his structure. 

Steve Harrington was quite possibly the best person you’d ever get the honor of knowing the way that you did. You truly wanted to share him with the world, to give everyone a look at the finest person who was everything and more jumbled up into one being, but at the same time you wanted to be selfish, to keep him to yourself because no one deserved him, sometimes you felt like you didn’t either.

You just got lucky. 

“I hate not knowing what you’re feeling.” He admitted, swallowing thickly, remembering all those times he had to poke and prod in order to get down to the root of your sadness. 

You nodded understandingly, hating how closed off you were in the past. “Sometimes I’m too scared to say it outloud.”

You wanted to be more like Steve, not wanting to be defined by the things that you hate, the things that you were afraid of, or the things that haunted you in the middle of the night. You wanted to throw out your sword and live in peace just being defined for what you loved… the people you loved.  

“Why?”

Your eyes met his curious ones with reluctance, nerves kicking into gear more than ever because you knew what saying the truth meant.  

“B-because, I don’t want to mess things up.” You said, nervously massaging the back of his neck with gentle touches hoping he couldn’t feel them shake. 

All this time you thought it was black and white. Too scared to let the past go because of the years you had put into them, and too scared to move forward because you didn’t want a repeat. The extremes that held you back, believing that failing once meant failing forever — all of that meant nothing anymore. 

All you could see in your mind was you and Steve intertwined, all of the bad that you had thought up was put behind you and you never wanted to look away from him. 

“You couldn’t mess anything up, not between us.” He said firmly, one hand loosening from your body to grab at your elbow, bringing it back to his cheek where he wanted you to feel him. 

All this time he thought it was burning red. Chaos and dramatics without ever solving anything. The highest of highs and lowest of lows, a dangerous path that never led him anywhere except heartache and pain. The treacherous journey that was always destined for failure — he didn’t feel that anymore. 

All he could see in his head was him sneaking back and forth from your town with you in his bed, and nothing would ever be the same. 

“Are you sure?” Yours eyes locked, his washing away any lingering feelings of doubt with a simple nod. 

You saw the thick swallow and bop of his throat while his hands traveled to your jaw, holding you there. “I’m positive because I’ve been feeling too.” 

And like that you both were wide awake.  

“S-say it please,” Steve pleaded running his thumbs over the bottom of your lip wanted to feel it so he knew it was real. 

“I-I could show you instead.” You murmured, taking his wrist in your hand, feeling the thumb of his pulse. 

He nodded, resting his forehead against yours, feeling you breathe against him like a lifeline reaching out.

“Please.”

Finally you both were letting it go, stepping into it together because what you had was golden, like daylight.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

a/n: happy new year everyone!!! I’ve missed you all so much and I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long — I took a break from posting as avidly in order to prioritize letting myself rest up and enjoy my break. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and a big thank you to my love, Effie, for helping me proofread this and always giving me the best advice ever!!! I can’t wait for you all to read the next chapter!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3

[bladesandbhaalspawn]

The Great Raccoon Chase

A Halsin x Tav Ficlet

for @maul-of-shame

Pairing: Halsin x Tav (Eilis, she/her, half-elf, ranger)

Words: <1k

Rating: G

Summary: A furry fiend rampages through Greenhollow; Eilis and Halsin work together to wrangle the raccoon back into nature.

want your own? check out this post!

"Someone catch that raccoon!" a villager shouted, wielding a broom with desperate zeal. Another followed suit, brandishing a wooden spoon as if it were a sword.

Eilis' eyes widened as she finally spotted the source of the chaos: a small, furry rascal with a mischievous glint in its beady eyes, zooming around the village square, shattering the peace of the little village of Greenhollow. It had managed to scale a stack of flour bags, leaving a trail of white dust in its wake - as well as a cacophony of panicked screams and the clatter of falling metal pots.

"Sorry, my heart, the tour will have to wait," the ranger told her partner, eyes never leaving her target, body preparing to pounce.

Halsin raised an eyebrow, trying to stifle a chuckle. "I take it that's not part of the usual village routine?"

"You'd be surprised," Eilis said, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. "That little rascal has been pilfering food from every vendor it can find. The day before you arrived, I swear I was just about to catch it when it decided to put on a show and run right through town."

With that, Eilis sprang into action, her practical braid bouncing with every step. She darted around the market, weaving between villagers and overturned carts. The raccoon, now perched triumphantly atop a loaf of bread, was clearly enjoying the chaos it was creating.

"My heart, watch out!" Halsin called as the raccoon leaped from the bread onto a tower of oranges, sending citrus flying in every direction. Eilis, determined not to let the creature escape, skidded to a halt, narrowly avoiding a shower of orange pulp.

"Not today, you furry fiend!" the ranger shouted, diving forward. The raccoon, sensing the hunt, scrambled up a nearby vegetable cart, scattering potatoes like confetti.

As Eilis managed to corner the raccoon next to a cart of cabbages, the creature made a final, dramatic leap. It landed directly on Eilis' shoulder, clutching a half-eaten carrot as if it were a trophy.

The villagers erupted in laughter and applause, clearly entertained by the sight of Eilis, her face smeared with flour and a carrot-clutching raccoon on her shoulder. Halsin arrived just in time to see Eilis' surprised but triumphant expression.

"Need a hand?" Halsin offered, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Only if you can wrestle this little troublemaker off me without getting turned into a snack," Eilis replied, trying to keep her tone light despite the raccoon's determined nibbling right by her earlobe.

Halsin, with practiced ease, murmured soft words and coaxed the raccoon into his arms, fingers deftly grabbing the fiend by its scruff. "How's that for teamwork?" he said, his voice full of affection.

Eilis sighed in relief, leaning against him as she caught her breath. "I don't think I've ever had such a chaotic afternoon, and I've had an illithid tadpole in my brain. Thank you for the assist, my love."

Halsin chuckled softly, wrapping his free arm around her waist. "Always, my heart. Though I must admit, this wasn't quite the welcome I was expecting when I came to visit you in this new part of Faerûn," he teased. "I do hope dropping off this little rascal back in nature will grant us a moment of peace."

Eilis gave him a playful nudge. "I wouldn't bet on it. With me around, life's never dull." She grinned up at the druid, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

As they left the village behind, the little raccoon still happily munching away on its carrot, Halsin and Eilis headed back into the lush wilderness where they both felt most at ease. Their laughter echoed through the trees, a reminder that amidst all the chaos, they always had each other.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I’m sorry if this request is odd but contrasting duos makes me laugh every time. Beelzebub with a sweet, cottage core looking s/o that’s basically a cinnamon roll. Like the other gods are bamboozled to see her on the arm of Beelzebub who has his dark and gloomy appearance with the dangerous work he does. She’s capable of being terrifying with her power but she’d rather be happy with her husband, even if she seems like a airhead (she’s not dumb at all, she’s very smart, she just gets lost in happy thoughts a lot lol)

-Soft humming was heard as your hips swung back and forth to the tune only you could hear, dicing up some more apples and throwing them into the large pot of cinnamon caramel you had prepared earlier, preparing to make canned apple pie filling (I made this last year and it hands down was so delicious, so many of my coworkers ate it straight from the jar, let me know if you want the recipe J).

-The front door opened, and you turned as Beelzebub physically sagged, inhaling deeply as he took in the scent of your baking and hearing you humming.

-He dragged himself into your kitchen and a smile spread across his lips, seeing a small smudge of flour on your cheek, from when you were prepping the pie crusts ahead of time.

-A warm smile spread across your lips as your eyes closed for a moment, “Welcome home!”

-His arms encircled your waist, hugging you from behind and his head rested on the back of your shoulder, a deep sigh of relief leaving him, “Smells good in here.”

-You giggled softly, adding the last of the apples to the boiling sugar mixture before stirring, “They’ll be done soon, and I’ve got one pie for us in the oven already.”

-He nuzzled you, hugging you just a bit tighter, “How’d I get so lucky to get you in my life.” You giggled again, but didn’t answer, as you both knew you were more than happy being together, even if others couldn’t understand how dark and broody Beelzebub got the very definition of a human cinnamon roll.

-One hour later Beelzebub was enjoying his second slice of pie while you were getting the basket of canned pie mix ready to head over to see Persephone and Hades.

-Beelzebub pouted softly, “Do we have to go?” he didn’t like parties or anything with large gatherings, which you understood, while he knew you were a social butterfly, “Just for a bit. Persephone told us that we could come early, before everyone else arrives, so we can sneak out.”

-He sighed deeply, “Thank you~ Persephone!” your giggles were music to his ears before he polished off his pie.

-He took the basket from you and gave you his other arm, not letting you do any heavy lifting since you did all the work making the dessert for Persephone’s autumn party, a celebration for when she returned to Hades for the year, turning it into a massive harvest party where everyone brings yummy treats and parties.

-Hades wasn’t one for parties either, but he always did enjoy celebrating getting his wife back from her mother.

-The massive market of harvested fruits and vegetables as well as baked goods was always a sight for sore eyes and Persephone hugged you close, a bright smile on her lips, “Yes! You always make the best apple pie mix!!”

-Beelzebub and Hades stood off to the side while you wandered the stalls with Persephone, enjoying spiked apple cider, enjoying the moment of quiet before everyone else arrived.

-Later, while you were walking home, Beelzebub carrying your basket you had filled with some veggies, holding onto his arm.

-He smiled down at you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head and you beamed up at him, enjoying the soft affection. You didn’t care what anyone else said, Beelzebub was the sweetest man you have ever had the pleasure of knowing.

-The two of you wanted to be together forever.

[transboysokka]

hello it’s been way too long since I’ve published ANYTHING I wrote, so here’s ~1k words of Zukka fluff inspired by a couple prompts I got from @linnorabeifong

“You’d probably be good at this, Sokka,” Zuko called from across the kitchen where he mixed together rice flour, sugar, and water. “This recipe’s not that hard, and you’re really good with following directions. Precision, all of that.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed with a shrug, “But you’re already so good at this. And even though I understand what to do, you’ve always been better with the physical aspects.”

Sokka heard Zuko’s choke from behind him and chuckled, “I’m talking about the precision, babe. Really, you’ve always had a steadier hand with like. Pouring and measuring. Little things like that.”

He pulled a chunk of red bean-berry paste from one of the balls Zuko had arranged on the counter in front of him, tasting it experimentally.

“Besides,” Sokka added, turning to face his boyfriend across the large kitchen’s island, ignoring how his eyes narrowed in mock annoyance at the fact that Sokka was disturbing his ingredients, “No offense, but I’ve always found your Fire Nation desserts to be so… weird. Too squishy.”

Zuko stopped stirring and sighed. He seemed to know that Sokka was just trying to wind him up, but was annoyed all the same. Sokka grinned.

“You like lots of Fire Nation food,” Zuko pointed out, arms crossed, “You love the fermented bean curd in the night market. And the octopus-squid balls…”

“Those aren’t desserts.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t want any of this delicious dish I’ve put so much work into?” Zuko reached out to scoop up a handful of his flour mixture and threw it at Sokka with a mischievous grin.

Sokka reached out reflexively to catch it, succeeding but making a face as the paste squished in his hand.

“Eugh, gross! Zuuu…” Sokka whined, reaching over the kitchen’s island to wipe the goop onto Zuko’s shirt.

Now it was Zuko’s turn to make a face, but Sokka caught him.

“I thought you liked this stuff, babe,” he teased.

“Yeah, to eat. Not to wear…” The firebender tried to rub at the mess with his apron but gave up shortly. “If I didn’t need the rest of this, you’d be in huge trouble…” Zuko grinned again as he flicked his wooden spoon in Sokka’s direction, sending more chunks of the paste in his direction. Sokka squealed and ducked out of the way.

When he stood back up, Zuko’s face was serious again.

“Now seriously babe, I want to finish these before the council meeting later. So you can help or you can stay out of the way.”

Sokka loved it when Zuko used his bossy voice. But he didn’t let it show this time, instead setting his face into a pout.

“There’s no way I’m touching any more of that gunk.”

“Fine,” Zuko replied, already busy with his recipe again, “Then help me out and wash the lycheestraw berries we picked this morning. I’ll need them next.”

Sokka stayed out of the way as he did what Zuko asked, eating a good chunk of the berries for himself as he prepared a dozen or so of the largest berries in the way that he guessed Zuko would need.

After that he sat to the side and watched as Zuko heated the bowl he’d been mixing with his hands, then poured it onto the counter. From there he made quick work of wrapping each berry in the red bean-berry paste and then in the flour mixture he’d made, setting each complete treat off to the side.

Sokka watched silently, not wanting to disturb at all. Something about the way Zuko looked when he worked in the kitchen… It was so peaceful. The focus and calm on his face was an expression Sokka loved and wanted to memorize; he never saw it anywhere else. That was the real reason Sokka hung around when Zuko was baking or cooking. He’d never admit it, of course.

After Zuko had cleaned up, he put his hands on his hips, assessed his work, and gave a deep sigh. He looked up and smiled at Sokka, the spell broken.

“I know you don’t like mochi that much,” he admitted, almost shyly, the confidence he’d shown previously suddenly gone, “But I think you’d like this…”

The way Zuko studied Sokka’s face as he offered him one of the mochi-wrapped berries told Sokka that this was somehow important to Zuko. And if Sokka was telling the truth…

“You know I’m going to love anything you make, babe. It’s so much better just coming from you…”

Sokka took the berry, ignoring that he still found the squishy texture of the mochi a bit unsettling, and bit into it.

His eyes widened. The layers of the taste were astounding. The gentle sweetness of the mochi, the robust taste of the red bean-berries, the juiciness and tartness of the lycheestraw berry in the center… The texture of the mochi could absolutely be ignored…

“Zu,” he whispered before taking another bite, “This is amazing. I love it!”

The firebender’s face melted into a relieved smile which only grew as he saw the way Sokka shoved the rest of the treat into his mouth.

“I’m so glad. I… really wanted you to try something so special to me. My mom would make these every winter solstice and I… I don’t know, it’s just the first thing I ever learned to make. With her. And I wanted to share it with you…”

Zuko looked away after giving such an emotional confession, but Sokka just stared back, mouth full and eyes wide.

“You… ahn-ed… to… bay aho hwee!!” he said around the gob of food in his mouth. Zuko’s face made it clear that he had no idea what his boyfriend just said, but the instant Sokka swallowed the berries and mochi he pulled Zuko in for a kiss.

Zuko kissed back, but raised his eyebrow in confusion when Sokka pulled away.

“I said, ‘Babe, that’s so sweet!’ You should have told me how important this was to you. I totally want to learn now!”

“You do?” Zuko’s eyes lit up as he reached to wipe some red bean-berry from the corner of Sokka’s mouth, “Okay, sure! Let’s make another batch! We still have some more berries.”

Sokka groaned. “Uh, actually, no. I sort of… ate those.”

Zuko laughed and kissed Sokka back.

“Of course you did. Tomorrow then.”

[deepcoraldragon]

Gluten Free Flatbread Recipe*

* Taken from “Gluten Free Baking” by Phil Vickery

Gluten-Free Flour Mix A

(Note: I have actually never used this and usually just use polenta and super market gluten free flour straight out of the bag and it's still held structural integrity. I also added way more spices than the recipe says because the GF flour mix we use tends to taste like pea pods if left to its own devices)

Makes: 1KG | Preparation: 5 Minutes

700g fine white rice flour

200g potato flour

100g tapioca flour

Mix all the flours together very thoroughly or put into a food processor and pulse until mixed. Store in an airtight container.

Ingredients:

150g Gluten-Free Flour Mix A (see page 22) note: above

½ teaspoon xantham gum

3-4 pinches of salt

½ teaspoon whole cumin seeds

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

½ teaspoon baking powder

4 tablespoons olive oil

Recipe

Place the flour, xantham gum, salt, cumin seeds, pepper and baking powder in a bowl and mix well. Add the oil and three-quarters of the warm water and mix to form a wet dough. You may need to add a little more water to achieve this - aim for a slightly loose mix. Knead well on a board, using a little cornflour to stop the dough sticking.

Cut the dough into 6 equal pieces. Roll out each piece into a circle, approximately 15cm in diameter, as thin as you can - the thinner the better. Brush half of each circle with olive oil, then carefully fold in half and press together to form a semi-circle.

Heat a griddle pan or a 23cm non-stick frying pan over a medium-high heat, then place the first bread straight in the pan, with no oil. Cook for 2-3 minutes on each side, until the bread is slightly scorched on both sides. Remove from the pan, place on a wire rack and brush lightly with olive oil. Repeat the process until all the breads are cooked and serve straight away

Thank you so much! I'll try them next time we eat falafel

[askwhatsforlunch]

Pistachio and Cherry Kings' Cake

I am thanking my Summer self, for thinking of pitting and freezing cherries when I brought a heap of them back from the market on a hot day --and for the self-restraint I showed for not eating them all!-- for I could bake this delicious Pistachio and Cherry Kings' Cake today! A wonderful treat on a (very slightly) snowy Sunday! Have a good one!

Ingredients (serves 8):

1 cup frozen cherries

1 cup shelled pistachios

¼ cup almonds

1 cup unsalted butter, softened

1/2 cup caster sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1 tablespoon Kirsch

620 grams/1.35 pounds Rough Puff Pastry

1 large egg yolk

1 tablespoon milk

1 porcelain fève, to hide

Allow cherries to thaw completely, and drain them thoroughly. Set aside.

Lightly toast pistachios in a small skillet over a high flame. Once fragrant, remove from the heat, and transfer the pistachios to a mortar. With the pestle, grind until mixture resembles coarse meal. Coarsely grind almonds as well, and combine ground pistachios and almonds into a small bowl until well-blended. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, energetically cream butter and caster sugar with a wooden spoon, until pale yellow and fluffy. Whisk in the egg, until well-blended. Stir in Vanilla Extract. Then, stir in ground nuts. Finally, add Kirsch, and give a good stir, to mix. Place in the refrigerator, to chill, 15 minutes.

Line a baking tray with baking paper. Set aside.

Divide Rough Puff Pastry  into two equal portions. On a lightly floured surface, roll each Rough Puff Pastry portions into two 30cm/11.80“ circles.

Place one Rough Puff Pastry circle onto prepared baking sheet.

Stir chilled pistachio frangipane energetically, and spoon into a pastry bag fitted with a plain nozzle. Pipe frangipane filling in a spiral (starting in the centre) onto the Puff Pastry circle, leaving a centimetre and a half on the edges.HIDE THE FEVE IN THE FRANGIPANE FILLING!!! Top with the cherries.

Lightly beat the egg yolk with milk, and brush the edges of the Pastry circle with egg wash. Gently place the second circle of Rough Puff Pastry onto the pistachio and cherry filling, pressing gently but firmly on the edges to seal. Place baking tray in the refrigerator and chill, 45 minutes.

Preheat oven to 190°C/375°F.

Retrieve baking tray from the refrigerator and trim the edges -not too close to the filling-  with a sharp knife. Brush generously with egg wash and using a knife, draw a pattern on the surface. Place in the hot oven and bake, at 190°C/375°F, 35 to 40 minutes.

Remove from heat and let Pistachio and Cherry Kings’ Cake cool slightly, if you can, before eating, with a coupe of chilled Champagne!

[delhifastfood]

Top 8 Delhi Famous Food In Delhi

          Delhi, the capital of India, is known for its diverse and delicious food scene. Here are some famous foods you must try Delhi famous food when in Delhi:

Parathas at Paranthe Wali Gali :

Located in the heart of Old Delhi, this narrow alley is famous for its stuffed parathas (flatbreads). You can find a variety of fillings, including potato, paneer, onion (Indian cottage cheese), and more. These Parathas are more delicious. Parantha wali gali is the Famous street in Delhi near Chandni chock ,Delhi.

Chaat:

Delhi is renowned for its chaat, a spicy and tangy street food. Try dishes like aloo chaat, papdi chaat, and golgappa (pani puri) at various street stalls and markets. This food is so yummy and delicious. All people love them. This food is famous in Delhi .Chaat is a popular Indian street food known for its sweet, spicy, tangy, and savory flavors. It's a diverse category of snacks originating from different regions of India, but you can find various chaat options in Delhi and across the country

Chole Bhature:

A North Indian favorite,Delhi famous food Chole Bhature consists of spicy chickpea curry (Chole) served with deep-fried bread (Bhature). It's a hearty and delicious meal. This food is famous in Delhi . It's a flavorful and satisfying meal often enjoyed for breakfast or as a hearty lunch. 

Visit Page :https://delhifastfood.com/post.php?post=313

Dilli Ki Chaat:

Apart from regular Chaat, Delhi has its unique style of Chaat, which includes ingredients like white peas, tamarind chutney, and spices. You can try it at various street food vendors. Delhi famous food Chaat is loving food for delhi people.  This chaat features boiled and cubed potatoes mixed with spices, chutneys (usually tamarind and mint), and often garnished with sev (crispy fried chickpea noodles) and fresh coriander.

Rajma Chawal:

Rajma Chawal is a popular North Indian dish that consists of two main components: "rajma" (red kidney bean curry) and "chawal" (steamed rice). It's a comforting and hearty meal that's enjoyed by people of all ages in India. A simple yet comforting dish, rajma (kidney bean curry) served with steamed rice is a staple in many Delhi households and can be found in local eateries. Delhi famous food .delhi local people  eat rajma chawal because they like more.

Street Samosas:

Delhi Famous food item in snacks is Samosas .Delhi's street vendors serve some of the best samosas, which are crispy fried pastries filled with spiced potatoes and peas. They're often served with chutneys. Samosas are popular fried or baked snacks in India and many other countries. Delhi famous food They consist of a crisp and flaky pastry filled with a savory mixture, often containing potatoes, peas, and spices. 

Kulfi:

Delhi famous food item is Malai Kulfi Finish your meal with a traditional Indian ice cream called kulfi. It comes in various flavors, but the classic ones like malai (cream) and pistachio are popular choices. Kulfi is a popular frozen dessert from India, often described as Indian ice cream. Delhi famous food It's known for its creamy texture and rich, intense flavors. What sets kulfi apart from regular ice cream is its preparation method, which involves simmering milk until it's thickened and then freezing it without churning.

Jalebi:

A sweet and deep-fried dessert, Delhi famous food jalebi is a popular street food in Delhi. It's often enjoyed with rabri (a sweet, condensed milk-based dish). Jalebi is a popular Indian dessert known for its sweet and syrupy flavor, as well as its distinctive spiral or pretzel-like shape. Delhi famous sweet dish food is jalebi. It's made by deep-frying a batter of maida (all-purpose flour) and yogurt and then soaking it in a sugar syrup. 

These are just a few of the many delectable dishes you can savor in Delhi. The city's culinary landscape is incredibly diverse, offering flavors from various regions of India and beyond. Be sure to explore both street food and upscale dining options to fully experience Delhi's food culture.

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[sfarticles]

Fall into flavor with versatile squash Farmers markets will be the place to be for this popular harvest

 A popular fall harvest is squash, a vegetable belonging to the gourd family (photo: Emily Ryan)

As published in......

It seems like yesterday when I picked up the vibrant, flower-filled, railing boxes from our local greenhouse.  Last week, I noticed that those boxes on the deck railings have thinned out, and sadly, the colors are dissipating. I was reminded, as the temperature at night drops, plant life slows down, and very soon, nature’s artistry takes over blanketing the landscape with vibrant colors.

Fall arrives next week. Along with the arrival of autumn, are the farmers markets displaying myriad crops of the seasonal harvest.  A popular fall harvest is squash, a vegetable belonging to the gourd family (Cucurbitaceae).

I’ve been stalling purchasing those mini pumpkins (a type of squash) that are displayed on my fireplace mantle. The beginning of August was too soon to think about fall. Many of the stores I visited at the end of July and beginning of August welcomed me at the entrance with displays of all sorts of fall décor. Why do we rush the seasons away…. Well, maybe we do want that with winter!

People love squash because the flavor connects them to holidays, special occasions, and family gatherings. Perhaps this is why some people were flocking, or will soon be, to the farmers’ stands to purchase their pumpkins, squash, gourds, and other seasonal fare.

The mild flavor offers a blank canvas to create sweet or savory dishes, whether it be soups and salads, appetizers, casseroles and, most importantly, at least for me, dessert. This time of year, winter squash takes over from summer squash. One big difference between summer and winter squash is the winter variety’s thicker skin and denser, sweeter flesh. And, unlike summer squash, they can be stored for a longer period, thus they are available all winter. Popular varieties are butternut, hubbard, acorn, spaghetti, and of course, pumpkin. The type of preparation is varied; mashed, pureed, and often used as pie and pastry fillings.

One of my favorite single subject cookbook authors is Julia Rutland, who wrote “Squash: 50 Tried & True Recipes” (2019, Adventure Publications, $16.95).

Rutland’s recipes will become instant family favorites, especially for autumn. The book’s full-color photography adds to the enjoyment of cooking. Her pointers on buying and cooking squash, along with practical tips for cutting tough-skinned winter varieties, along with creative recipes, make the book a must for squash lovers. Additionally, if you grow squash in your garden, and it produces more than you can eat, you’ll find simple and delicious ways to preserve your crop.

I think I will give-in this weekend and buy those mini-pumpkins and some squash. Perhaps the calendar is reminding me to let some squash-themed dishes and adornments contribute to the overall festive atmosphere of the upcoming season. And…my mouth has been watering since reading the recipes from Rutland’s book.

For the recipes for Pumpkin-Cream Cheese Streusel Muffins and Butternut Squash-and-Quinoa Salad, visit https://bit.ly/3kF6RwL.

Photo: Julia Rutland 

Pumpkin-and-Pepita Parker House Rolls

7 tablespoons butter, divided

½ cup pumpkin or butternut squash puree

1 cup cream, half-and-half, or whole milk

2 large eggs, divided

¼ cup sugar

3 ½ cups all-purpose flour

1 envelope (2 ½ teaspoons) active dry yeast

1 ½ teaspoons salt

Pepitas (roasted pumpkin seeds)

Flaky sea salt

Note: Allow the cream, egg and butter to reach room temperature before mixing together because cold ingredients will slow down the rising process.

Melt 4 tablespoons of butter. In the bowl of a stand-up electric mixer, beat 4 tablespoons melted butter, pumpkin puree, cream, 1 egg, sugar, flour, yeast and salt, mixing until a dough forms. Knead on a lightly floured surface (or in mixing bowl with a dough hook) about 5 minutes or until smooth. Transfer to a lightly oiled bowl, turning to coat surface. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place for 1 to 2 hours or until doubled in bulk.

Melt the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter. Brush a 9-inch-by-9-inch baking dish lightly with some of the melted butter. Set aside.

Punch dough down and divide into 18 pieces on a floured surface. Roll into balls, and place in prepared baking dish. Brush tops with remaining melted butter. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place for 45 minutes or until puffed (but not doubled in size).

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Whisk remaining egg and brush over tops of rolls. Sprinkle with desired amount of pepitas and sea salt. Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown. Makes 1 ½ dozen.

Pumpkin Hummus

The headnote says, “There are lots of hummus flavors in stores and you can easily make this unique fresh version anytime with ingredients kept in the pantry. The pumpkin flavor is a fun riff you can serve at Halloween parties and through the rest of the fall holidays.”

Pumpkin Hummus – Healthy and delicious and easy to prepare.

1 (15-ounce) can pure pumpkin

1 (15-ounce) can garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained

½ teaspoon grated lemon zest

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

1/3 cup tahini

1 garlic clove, sliced

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 ½ teaspoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon smoked paprika or ground cayenne pepper

Pita chips

Garnish: toasted pumpkin seeds

Combine pumpkin, beans, lemon zest and juice, tahini, garlic, oil, cumin, salt, and paprika in a food processor; process until smooth. Spoon into a serving bowl; garnish, if desired. Serve with pita chips. Makes 3 cups.

Butternut-Rosemary Risotto

The headnote says, “Risotto is a creamy rice dish made specifically with a medium-grain Italian rice called Arborio. Arborio contains a good bit of starch that, when cooked slowly with small amounts of broth, creates a silky, saucy texture. Make sure the squash pieces are cut to the same size for even cooking.”

4 tablespoons butter

1 small onion, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 ½  cups Arborio rice

2 cups peeled and cubed butternut or other hard winter squash

½  cup white wine

4 cups chicken or vegetable broth, warm

½  cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary

½  teaspoon salt

¼  teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper

Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion and garlic; cook, stirring constantly, for 5 minutes or until tender.

Add Arborio rice and squash; cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Stir in wine. Cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 to 2 minutes or until wine evaporates.

Add 1 cup broth to risotto mixture and cook, stirring constantly or very frequently, until liquid is absorbed. Repeat with remaining broth, 1 cup at a time, until liquid is absorbed after each addition.

Remove from heat and stir in cheese, rosemary, salt and pepper. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

Turkey-and-Winter Squash Pot Pie

The headnote says, “Put this recipe on your to-do list after Thanksgiving because it’s great for leftover turkey (and the rest of that package of celery!). I tend to use shortcuts like refrigerated piecrusts after a big food-filled holiday, but you can substitute your favorite homemade double-crust pastry.”

4 tablespoons butter

3 stalks celery, chopped

1 medium onion, chopped

2 ½ cups cubed butternut squash or other winter squash

¼ cup all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons poultry seasoning

½ teaspoon salt

1 cup chicken or turkey broth

1 cup half-and-half

3 cups chopped or shredded cooked turkey

1 (15-ounce) package refrigerated piecrusts

1 egg, lightly beaten

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add celery and onion. Cook, stirring frequently, 5 minutes. Add squash. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes until vegetables are almost tender.

Stir in flour, poultry seasoning and salt. Cook for 1 minute.

Add broth and half-and-half, stirring until well blended. Bring to a simmer; simmer 5 minutes or until thickened and bubbly. Stir in turkey.

Place one piecrust in bottom of a 9-inch pie plate. Add filling, and cover with remaining crust. Fold over edges and crimp to seal. Make several slits in top. Brush with egg. Bake 30 to 40 minutes or until golden brown and bubbly. Makes 6 servings.

Recipes and photos courtesy of ......

Stephen Fries, is Professor Emeritus and former coordinator of the Hospitality Management Programs at Gateway Community College, in New Haven, CT. He has been a food and culinary travel columnist for the past 15 years and is co-founder of and host of “Worth Tasting,” a culinary walking tour of downtown New Haven, CT. He is a board member of the International Association of Culinary Professionals. Stephen@stephenfries.com

[the-great-elwisty]

Day 10: Fish out of Water

A/N Set not long prior to the NWN2 Original Campaign.

Nevalle dreams of schoolrooms, ink and heaps of fresh parchment. There will be bundles of goose feathers and reeds already prepared for use, though only for the older children and the best scholars, of course: most will have to make do with chalk and slate tablets, or styluses and wax. There will be abaci. A map of Faerun on the wall. Books of reference. Even if the teacher is a drunken lout and a fool, as one of his certainly was, the children will be able to learn despite the limitations of their background. Though he will personally monitor the selection of the teachers to make sure that no time-wasters or boozers slip in.

He dreams sitting at his desk, a list of the most recent commodity prices before him, and annotates, rounds and estimates. He estimates to two decimal points, as an expert clerk should.

In total, it will cost ten point six ounces of fine gold to stock a school of fifty children for one month, inclusive of a simple breakfast of oatmeal and milk, and excluding the teacher’s salary. He knows that in theory ­– if he compromised on the quality of the teacher, if he forgot about any but the most basic resources and left seeing the children fed to the purses and tempers of their parents – one school could run for a month on fewer than ten ounces.

But that would be like the miller he had seen on trial the other day, fined for mixing sawdust in with the flour, or like the case of the Greycloak sergeant Griffon who had contrived to sell his troop’s weapons on the black market and buy in cheap replacements for half the amount, just in time for the Luskan army to arrive at the walls: an abasement of standards that devours the greater purpose. The worst kind of compromise.

“Attend. Are you ready for your lesson?” The bland voice of the knight Melia echoes through the wooden door of his bedroom-cum-study.

He stands smoothly and carefully, as he has learned to do. As a new recruit to the palace guard, he would have hurried to open the door to his superior in rank and length of service. He had been trained out of that quickly.

“I am. Who may I expect?”

“Open and see,” she says. Sometimes she gave him a straight answer The second or third lesson, she had replied “the unexpected!” but since then she had stopped making light remarks in her own person. She understood that he would not appreciate them. Today she is testing him, as is fair, and is furthermore a much more effective way of learning than shadowing Sir Darmon on his spinning, springing, laughing progress through the court.

Melia stands approximately three feet away from the threshold of his room. Her dark hair is worn up in a nest of complex plaits, though a few strands have been allowed to curl at the side of her cheeks, as if through chance. It was a statement: long loose hair in a woman signalled remembrance of Aribeth and suspect loyalty. Hair in a single plait down the back, or curled into a bun, was to be seen throughout the Blacklake District these days, and meant faith in Lord Nasher, or at least the wish to appear true to him. What Melia wears today is referencing either the old regime, the Amnish, or Waterdeep where such styles persist.

The cut of the dress is simple, loosely belted at the waist and unpadded at the breast and hips, the colour black, as would be appropriate for mourning, or for a priest doing penance, or for a member of one of the more unpleasant cults of the Sword Coast. Despite the dress’s simplicity, the material looks to him like velvet. There are discreet froths of ivory Moonshae lace at each wrist.

He has already seen the pin worn on the left to show a connection to the heart, and it makes the test far too easy. The blue-and-white bud of gemstones that might be taken for an Eye of Tyr, would have been taken for such by him a short time ago, but in fact stood for the delphinium crest of one of the old houses, one with few living representatives, and no children.

“Lady Tamberlis, you do me great honour.” Because this is not really Lady Tamberlis, it is not hard to filter any wisp of displeasure out of his tone. He hopes he can do as well if confronted with the real woman.

Melia raises her chin. Looks at him askance from under silvered eyelids. “Honour is all very well, young man, but only if actions match words. The door to the audience chamber is behind you. You and your honour are in my way.”

So that is his task in today’s play: to learn what the aristocrat wants from Lord Nasher, and then to let her through or find a means of turning her about, as the case demands. You may hate it and them, Melia had said in an earlier trial, and may look at them and see nothing but painted toy dragons, but they still have connections, and status, and wealth. Treat them as if their teeth can still bite.

“My apologies, milady,” he says with a small bow towards her, but does not otherwise change his position. “I must beg your patience a little longer.”

Although she is much shorter than he, Melia contrives not to seem so. A twist of a lip, a flicker of an eyebrow, and she disappears into her projection of the tall, sharp-featured Tamberlis, an improbable apparition to encounter in this obscure back corridor of Castle Never. “Beg, by all means. I expect I will enjoy it. But as for patience, I have none, and rate it as no great virtue.”

He does not attempt to counter her ‘humour’ with a jab of his own. That is not how he works best, and he knows it. “Then let it be such, and we shall come straight to the matter at hand. You must be driven by some urgent business to travel here in person at this hour.”

It is within the usual audience times, but still well before noon, and few people of rank in Neverwinter stir themselves to activity before then. Lord Nasher is in the habit of rising before dawn and going straight to work; when Nevalle attended him at breakfast a ten-day ago, the city’s Protector had said to him confidingly that if his courtiers could only manage to get out of bed at a reasonable time, they would have succeeded in deposing him years ago. Nevalle was very glad that they had not, and said as much.

“Perhaps it is so. And if that is the case, would I be liable to share my business with Nasher’s door boy, and not Nasher himself?”

Melia has captured the mixture of condescension and arrogance perfectly. He suspects she is enjoying herself.

Even though he knows this is not real, his temper sparks. “Since you have no other means of gaining your audience, certainly.”

Without changing her expression, she adjusts her stole so that it hangs from one shoulder. “And go prattling the secret knowledge of state to a guard? To the son of an excise clerk? You see, I take an interest in palace affairs, young Nevalle.”

“My father is a loyal servant of Lord Nasher, as am I.”

“For clerks, loyalty is done and undone in the slash of a pen. They can have no real concept of higher loyalty, the loyalty of sworn soldiers, knights and princes. For your kind it begins and ends with a monthly pay-packet, loyalty till sunset on working days then home to supper in a house on the peninsula.”

He feels his cheeks flush with anger, and regrets the light complexion that gives him away so easily. Tamberlis – no, Melia playing Tamberlis – lets a hint of amusement show, but, seeing it, he collects himself. Yes, his father is an exciseman, and he is proud of him. It is people like his father, literate, sober and honourable, who have kept Neverwinter alive and ensured the state could fend off the attacks from Luskan and the orcs. When Tamberlis and her circle of spoiled bullies were in charge, the city went bankrupt and the Greycloaks mutinied. Lord Nasher remembers that, owes his throne to the long-ago turmoil in the Year of the Bloodbird, and has given many indications that he feels as Nevalle does on the issue of which class of person has more to offer the future.

“I would die for Lord Nasher,” he replies calmly. “I have sworn to do so as a guard, but even if I were not bound by an oath, he is my master and I owe him my life as part of my duty to the state.”

Melia raises her eyebrows. “How novel. Do you really mean that?”

“Every word.”

The disguised knight pauses, watching his face as if she can search out the truth of his pledge there. At last, she says, “I suppose you’ll do.”

And she pulls off her stole and stuffs it under one arm. A few plucks of the fingers to draw out concealed pins, and with a shake of the head her plaits fall free to rest on her shoulders. Her posture subtly shifts, not relaxing or becoming more official, but seeming to pass through a mirror, so that, where Tamberlis had stood there was now an oval-faced young knight wearing a black dress that sits ill with her complexion.

“Here’s the news then,” continues Melia. “Lord Nasher will leave a few days from now on a progress round his territories. From Fort Locke in the south to Old Owl Well and Helm’s Hold and up to Port Llast on the border. And every village and town of any size in between. We expect trouble: the land has been unsettled ever since the war. You will lead his personal guard, while Sir Darmon commands a troop of Greycloaks detached from Callum’s mountain men.”

When he nearly lost his temper, he thought he had failed the test that day. Now it seems that his mistake did not matter: the responsibility Melia has given him is a great one, and an unmistakeable sign of favour for she would not have done so without Lord Nasher’s blessing. The possibilities, the probabilities that lie before him are ones he would not have dared imagine for himself a year ago. The only blight on them will be sharing the road with Sir Darmon and his clowning and jokes and triviality for the next month or more.

“Thank you,” he says. “I will not disappoint him.”

She cocks her head on one side. “You don’t seem surprised.”

He blinks. The sudden switch from apparent failure to reward and success, from being insulted by an imitation of an old, ugly witch to being given a promotion in fact if not in name yet, had surprised him. But he is not shocked by the task itself. “I am well-qualified for the task. It requires someone who is well-organised, knows the roads, knows the guard, and who can fight. I match the description.”

She gives him an odd unaccountable smile that he has only seen her wear a few times before, when she listens in on council meetings from discreet corners of the chamber. “Yes, well I’m sure that all helps too.”

After she has left, he returns to his room and spends the next hour noting the tasks that will need to be completed, and the equipment that will have to be gathered, inspected and packed before the expedition can depart. Then he has to leave for his guarding shift between noon and sunset, and afterwards he is invited to share the dining table that evening with Lord Nasher, a few of the Nine and the usual tideline-mess of courtiers, merchants and aristocrats. In the short time he has left before bed, he hurries through more of the preparations, visiting the kitchens and armoury and consulting with the old retainers who have been working in supplies and logistics since before Nevalle was born.

It is midnight before he is able to lie down again. The reed lamp on the table continues to smoulder, giving off an uncertain light. Now and again footsteps pass in the corridor outside his room. And as he lies awake, exhausted by his long day yet still burning with satisfaction at his new status, his new advancement, he lets his eyes wander over the ceiling, and he dreams.

A network of schools over the city is feasible. He knows it. And one day, when he has proved his competence so many times that no one can doubt him, he can show his plan to Lord Nasher, and they will build them together. Just one at first, as a trial model. But once that is refined, the same pattern can be replicated in every district of the lower and middle-ranking citizens.

Nevalle’s dreams are weighted with figures and lists. In his imaginary schoolroom, the children sit in neat lines and wear clean, if darned and patched, clothes – though that has not been included in the budget. Clothes will have to wait for a third, unplanned stage to be realised. None of the children have faces and – as he finally drifts off to sleep – they look up at him standing at the teacher’s lectern, and their heads are simply outlines framed by the plain limewashed walls. But they will be the future. The school will happen, and Neverwinter will thrive.

[justmba]

Sweet potato casserole recipe

Make the sweet potato mixture – In a separate bowl, add the mashed potatoes, roasted pecans, brown sugar, 2 large eggs, melted butter, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt.Then, add butter to it, and mix the ingredients together. In a large bowl, add flour brown sugar, and cinnamon. Prepare other ingredients – while the potatoes are cooking, gather the ingredients for the casserole.Toasting the pecans is optional, but it will add more flavor to the dish. Measure two cups of pecans lay them on a baking sheet, and toast in the oven for a few minutes. Toast the pecans – Next, preheat the oven to 350 degrees f.Once cooked, mash them using a potato masher or hand mixer. Cook the potatoes – I prefer to peel and cube the sweet potatoes prior to boiling.Watch the short video tutorial attached as it will guide you better through the cooking process. Cinnamon and nutmeg: For a true holiday spirit 🙂.However, I tend to use it because I love the aroma and extra flavors it adds to it. Vanilla extract: This is optional and can be omitted.Pecans: They add a nice crunchy texture to the whole dish.Brown sugar: It adds a nice touch of sweetness to it.Fresh Sweet Potatoes: Pick the ones which have no root growing off of them.It is a classic recipe during the holiday season, and it blends perfectly with oven-roasted turkey or other meats. The dish tastes sweet, almost like a dessert. The casserole consists of mashed sweet potatoes, usually blended with brown sugar, topped with a streusel topping, pecans, and marshmallows. This is a traditional, North-American side dish that is usually served during Thanksgiving dinner. It’s very comforting, and it tastes even better with a cinnamon filling and buttery cinnamon pecan topping!Ī true holiday staple, that is perfect for Thanksgiving, Christmas, or Easter! What is Sweet Potato Casserole? The crunchy topping paired with sweet marshmallows is another highlight of this casserole. Also, it is a delicious, mid-layer of cinnamon goodness. The best part of this dish is the brown sugar cinnamon filling. The potatoes are boiled and mashed, blended with some brown sugar, nutmeg, and cinnamon to elevate the fall flavors. There are many variations of this casserole floating out there, however, once you try this one, you won’t need any other recipe ever. When else do you get to eat basically a dessert and call it a side dish? It is similar to Sweet Potato Souffle, but it has a fluffier texture and is also creamier. So all those orange beauties, as well as the purple ones are really sweet potatoes and not yams.įor this recipe, you want the vegetable that is orange, not white, even if it’s labeled as “canned yams.When it comes to the Thanksgiving dinner menu, this Homemade Sweet Potato Casserole with marshmallows and crunchy pecans is always on the list. American products labeled “yams” are almost always sweet potatoes. Yams are starchier than sweet potatoes and have a rough, bark-like skin. Unless you shop at ethnic markets, there’s a strong chance you’ve never even encountered an actual yam. Sweet potatoes are the root veggie we always see in the produce department. Yes! While the United States tends to use the terms sweet potatoes and yams interchangeably, there is actually a difference. Is There a Difference Between Sweet Potatoes and Yams? Cinnamon Sugar Air Fryer Sweet Potato Fries.Love Sweet Potatoes? Try these other sweet potato recipes! It only takes a few seconds too long for the top to get very blackened. You’ll want to stay nearby and watch this process. Broil for 1-2 minutes, or until marshmallows are lightly browned. STEP FOUR: Turn on the oven broiler, and return the dish to the upper-middle rack. When you’re done, you’ll have a mouthwatering dish to be proud of. Get ready to learn exactly what to put on your shopping list and what to do with each item. A few tips to simplify the process and help you get this casserole perfect on the very first try.Step-by-step instructions from beginning to end, for preparing this super easy, and delish recipe.What ingredients you’ll need to prepare a scrumptious Southern Sweet Potato Casserole.Here’s what I’m going to teach you in this post: With brown sugar, cinnamon and marshmallows, Southern sweet potato casserole is decadent enough to be dessert. Which is it, vegetable side-dish or dessert? You decide. This sweet potato casserole is now a staple at our holiday dinner table! It’s like a s’more topping for a dinner side dish! Even better, this recipe uses canned yams to make it that much easier to make! I just love the way the marshmallows brown up. Add some marshmallows and pecans and I’m sold. Sweet Potato Casserole has always been a favorite of mine at the Thanksgiving table. For more information, please read my disclaimer. If you click on a link and make a purchase, I may receive a small commission at no extra cost to you.

[odctravel]

Bánh giò

Bánh giò is a traditional Vietnamese dish, particularly popular in the North. With a chewy, fragrant rice flour shell and a savory filling of minced meat, wood ear mushrooms, and shiitake mushrooms, bánh giò is a beloved breakfast or snack.

Key features:

Shell: Made from rice flour, creating a chewy, translucent, and slightly elastic shell.

Filling: Typically consists of minced pork, wood ear mushrooms, shiitake mushrooms, fried shallots, and seasonings, resulting in a rich and flavorful filling.

Preparation: Rice flour is mixed with water, poured into banana leaves, and steamed until cooked.

Serving: Bánh giò is often enjoyed with a sweet and sour fish sauce and fresh herbs (lettuce, herbs) for a harmonious flavor profile.

Cultural significance:

Bánh giò is more than just a dish; it is deeply rooted in Vietnamese food culture. It is a common sight at family breakfasts, traditional markets, and is an integral part of Vietnamese cuisine.

https://www.odctravel.com.vn/

[peterfernandas]

Instant Noodles Manufacturing Plant Project Report 2024: Industry trends and Plant Setup

Introduction

Instant noodles have become a staple food in many households around the world due to their convenience, affordability, and variety. The global market for instant noodles continues to grow, driven by busy lifestyles and an increasing demand for quick meal solutions. Setting up a manufacturing plant for instant noodles presents a lucrative business opportunity. This article provides a comprehensive overview of a Instant Noodles Manufacturing Plant Project Report for establishing an Instant Noodles Manufacturing Plant, covering feasibility, technology, financial considerations, and operational aspects.

Project Overview

Objectives

The primary goal of setting up an Instant Noodles Manufacturing Plant is to produce high-quality noodles efficiently and meet the rising market demand. Key objectives include:

Meeting Market Demand: Addressing the increasing consumption of instant noodles due to their convenience and diverse flavor options.

Economic Contribution: Stimulating local economic development by creating jobs and supporting the supply chain.

Quality and Compliance: Ensuring that the manufacturing processes adhere to food safety regulations and quality standards.

Scope

The project encompasses several critical phases from initial planning to full-scale production. Essential components include:

Site Selection: Identifying a location with access to raw materials, utilities, transportation, and a skilled workforce.

Design and Engineering: Developing detailed plans for plant layout, production processes, and equipment.

Construction: Building the facility, installing machinery, and setting up production lines.

Operations: Managing daily production, quality control, and distribution of instant noodles.

Compliance: Adhering to food safety regulations and industry standards.

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Technical and Operational Aspects

Technology

The production of instant noodles involves several key steps:

Ingredient Preparation: Sourcing and preparing raw materials such as wheat flour, water, salt, and various seasonings. Ingredients must be of high quality to ensure the final product’s taste and texture.

Dough Mixing: Mixing the wheat flour with water and other ingredients to create a dough. This step requires precise control to achieve the desired consistency and quality of the noodles.

Sheeting and Cutting: The dough is rolled into thin sheets and then cut into noodle strands. The sheeted dough is also steamed to partially cook the noodles.

Frying or Air-Drying: The noodles are then either fried in oil or air-dried to remove moisture. Fried noodles have a crispy texture, while air-dried noodles are less greasy.

Seasoning and Packaging: The noodles are seasoned with various flavorings and packaged in convenient containers or packets. Packaging must be done in a sterile environment to maintain product freshness and safety.

Equipment

Key equipment used in an instant noodle manufacturing plant includes:

Mixing Machines: For combining flour, water, and other ingredients.

Sheeting Machines: For rolling dough into thin sheets.

Cutting Machines: For slicing the dough into noodle strands.

Frying or Drying Equipment: For cooking the noodles, either through frying or air-drying methods.

Seasoning Units: For adding flavorings and seasonings to the noodles.

Packaging Machines: For filling and sealing the noodle packets.

Workforce

A skilled workforce is essential for efficient plant operations. Key roles include:

Production Engineers: To design and optimize manufacturing processes.

Food Technologists: For developing and testing recipes and ensuring product quality.

Machine Operators: To operate and maintain production and packaging equipment.

Quality Control Inspectors: To perform tests and ensure the noodles meet safety and quality standards.

Administrative Staff: For managing plant operations, finance, and human resources.

Financial Considerations

Investment

The financial investment required for an Instant Noodles Manufacturing Plant includes:

Capital Expenditure: Costs associated with site acquisition, construction, machinery, and installation.

Operational Expenses: Ongoing costs for raw materials, utilities, labor, maintenance, and quality control.

Funding Sources

Potential funding sources for the project include:

Equity Investment: From private investors or venture capital firms.

Loans: From banks or financial institutions.

Grants and Subsidies: Potentially available for food manufacturing projects.

Revenue Generation

Revenue is generated from the sale of instant noodles to retailers, wholesalers, and distributors. Pricing is influenced by production costs, market demand, and competition. The plant can also explore various product lines and packaging options to maximize revenue.

Environmental and Safety Considerations

Environmental Impact

The plant must adhere to environmental regulations to minimize its impact. Key measures include:

Waste Management: Proper disposal or recycling of production waste and packaging materials.

Energy Efficiency: Implementing energy-efficient technologies to reduce consumption and lower costs.

Water Management: Managing and recycling water used in the production process.

Safety Measures

Ensuring a safe working environment involves:

Food Safety Standards: Adhering to food safety regulations to ensure the noodles are safe for consumption.

Safety Training: Providing regular training for employees on handling equipment, working safely, and responding to emergencies.

Protective Equipment: Supplying personal protective equipment (PPE) such as gloves, masks, and safety glasses.

Emergency Protocols: Establishing clear procedures for responding to accidents, spills, or equipment failures.

FAQs

What are instant noodles made of?

Instant noodles are primarily made from wheat flour, water, salt, and seasonings. The dough is processed into noodle strands, which are then either fried or air-dried and packaged with flavoring.

How long does it take to build an instant noodle manufacturing plant?

Building and commissioning an instant noodle manufacturing plant typically takes between 18 to 36 months, depending on the project's complexity and regulatory requirements.

What factors are important in choosing a plant location?

Key factors include proximity to raw material suppliers, access to transportation and utilities, compliance with environmental regulations, and availability of a skilled workforce.

How can the plant ensure product quality and safety?

Ensuring product quality involves adhering to food safety standards, implementing rigorous quality control measures, and conducting regular testing of raw materials and finished products. Compliance with regulatory requirements is achieved through adherence to industry guidelines and obtaining necessary approvals.

What are the major risks associated with this project?

Major risks include fluctuations in raw material prices, regulatory changes, production challenges, and market competition. Proper planning, risk management strategies, and financial controls are essential to mitigate these risks.

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