#she made this apple cake that was her own recipe and it was the most delicious thing i've ever eaten to this day

[apricote]

suddenly i miss my grandma so much

[creepswrites]

MEAT PIES (Thomas x Reader)

as a result of the poll i made, here is a lil something with Thomas Hewitt! also, this is sort of in celebration of 500 followers so thank you so much for that!! :D

Thomas Hewitt x gn!Reader (they/them)

Summary: You nodded and slipped out of the kitchen, hearing Luda May call the directions to you. Down the hall, first door on the left. Easy. The door in question was underneath a large staircase that led upstairs from the entry foyer. As you reached to open it, your hand froze on the doorknob. The sound of a revving chainsaw and screaming could be heard just beyond the door.

WARNING: 18+, violence, murder, c/nnibalism

Living in Travis County was becoming more and more difficult, particularly in Fuller. There were whispers around town that the meat processing plant had gone bad. The latest drought had caused illness in the cattle but the plant did nothing about it, continuing work as expected.

Those whispers had reached your ears almost immediately. Fuller was a relatively small town as is and the sick meat would be bad for your business.

Currently, you ran a little corner store making and selling various baked goods, though your little meat pies were especially good. Despite the town's size, you had various customers come in almost every day. When you'd first moved to town about two years ago, many of the older residents had turned up their noses when you'd continued to work on Sundays, not being particularly religious yourself.

Their attitudes quickly changed once they got a taste of your baking though.

You made various things as well, from cakes to breads to cookies. There was little you couldn't make. In summer, you'd whip up vanilla ice creams with apple cobblers and in winter you'd make warm honey and vanilla cakes. The town couldn't get enough of it.

Today was a warm day, as were most days in Texas. You'd just finished cleaning up one of the tables when you heard someone come inside. "Be right with you!" You called over your shoulder as you finished wiping down the table with a disinfectant wet wipe.

When you spun around, you smiled at a familiar face. "Hey Mrs Hewitt, how can I help ya?"

Luda May Hewitt was a regular of yours, always paying you generously to bring home some of your cakes and plates of cookies. She bought more than any other customer but you certainly weren't complaining. Sometimes she'd bring you some of her own family recipes for you to try, always looking proud when they came out a success.

You were always respectful to her, which you could tell she also appreciated. "Just here for the usual, dear." Luda May smiled at you.

With a quick nod, you slipped back behind the counter and began collecting chocolate clip cookies into a paper bag. "Did somethin' a lil different with 'em this week." You gave the old woman a secret smile. "Added a bit more salt to this batch, so let me know what ya think!"

"Ooo!" Luda May smiled. "I'm sure they'll be delicious as always. My Tommy's such a big fan of your bakin' you know."

You looked up at her, giving her a raised eyebrow. "Tommy?"

She nodded. "He works at the meat plant. Walks by your lil store every day on his way to work but he's too shy to come in, poor dear."

"I hope I don't scare him," you laughed good-naturedly as you sealed up the bag before collecting a dozen cupcakes into a paper tray. "He's welcome to come in if he wants! Can make him a hot chocolate if he shows up before openin.'"

Luda May gave you a fond look. "You're such a darlin,' don't know what angel sent ya to Fuller but I know the whole town's grateful." She paused, fidgeting with her fingers. "You heard 'bout the plant, right?" Her voice was barely a whisper when she spoke.

You nodded at her, leaning closer over the counter like the two of you were sharing a dark secret over the little cakes and cookies. "Yeah, heard the meat was bad."

"Not just bad, dear." Luda May frowned. "Been stomach infections all over the country 'cause of the spoiled meat. A health inspectors comin' out this week to see."

A soft gasp left your lips and Luda May nodded sadly. "I mean... is the plant-?"

Luda May gave a wistful smile. "You've heard the rumors. I'm sure you've seen the families movin' out of Fuller this past month. Everyone's already cut their losses an' moved on."

You frowned, crossing your arms over your cool counter as the old woman opened her purse to pull out coins and bills to pay you. "What're you gonna do?" You asked her, chewing on your lip.

She looked at you with a soft look. "Don't you go worryin' about an old woman like me. I ain't last this long on pillows and cotton." She teased you, making you smile slightly. "I got my boys to look after me. We got a farm out in the country, we'll get by. I still got my job at the community center, for now."

As she slid the money across the counter and took the two bags of sweets, you gave her a polite wave. "Let me know if I can help somehow, yeah?"

Luda May just gave you a smile as she left, leaving you alone in the empty store as the bell of the door echoed emptily. You just hoped her family would be okay.

The Hewitts were a fairly reserved family but were the heart of the little community. Luda May and Charlie had a strong presence in the town and, despite the sheriff's best attempts, the town looked to the Hewitt family for advice. So you'd heard of Thomas Hewitt - Luda May's son who, according to rumors, was mentally challenged and physically disabled. You'd never met him but you'd heard stories.

You finally got to meet him just a few days after Luda May's visit.

It was early in the morning and you'd barely gotten dressed when you padded downstairs in socked feet to your little shop. You lived above the store in a small, one room apartment. It was convenient though!

A knock on the glass door confused your still-sleepy brain. You crept towards the door, unlocked it, and opened it. An enormous man stood there, staring at you with surprise. His hair was long, messy and matted, and he wore a mask over his mouth that obscured a lot of his face. You opened and closed your mouth for a minute before managing to choke out a few words. "Thomas, right?"

He nodded and you felt yourself smile. "Luda May told me 'boutcha! C'mon in," you stepped aside and shuffled back towards your coffee machine. You heard Thomas enter slowly, shutting the door carefully behind him. "You want coffee?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

Thomas looked dirty, the apron he wore stained with blood. If he didn't work at the meat plant, you would've been more alarmed. He just stared at you, unblinking. "Hot chocolate?" You tried, earning a quick nod. "Comin' right up!" You gave him a bright smile as you set about making coffee for yourself and hot chocolate for your guest.

"Luda May says you walk by my shop a lot." You hummed as you worked. "You're allowed to come in, y'know? I ain't gonna run you off."

Thomas was silent still. You got the feeling he didn't talk much. So you went into the back room as drinks brewed and opened one of your storage boxes. Despite the dusty, rough nature of the rest of the town, you prided yourself on keeping things clean and tidy. So you grabbed two cinnamon rolls and went to reheat them in the little oven.

All the while, you felt eyes on you. For some reason, you got a heavy feeling in your stomach but you pushed it down. He was strange, not dangerous.

You slid the man a mug of hot chocolate and a warm cinnamon roll across your countertop with a smile. "Yer always welcome here."

To be polite, you turned your back to him as you drank your coffee to let him take off the mask he wore to eat better. The two of you enjoyed breakfast in relative silence until, without much fanfare, Thomas stepped away from the counter and slipped out the front door, back into the Texas heat.

He was strange, without a doubt, but he meant well. It was clear Luda May adored him so he must just really be shy with strangers. You'd start stocking up more hot chocolate, despite it being summer, for if Thomas ever visited you again.

And, later that very afternoon, hundreds of men were seen leaving the meat plant. It was shut down for good by the health inspector. You watched from your windows as the angry men stormed home, yelling in protest and anger with each other.

You didn't see Thomas in the crowds though. You hoped he was okay...

With the meat plant shut down, life in Fuller came to a complete stop. Where once it had been difficult, it was now near impossible to continue living there. At least 85% of the town moved away by the end of the month, abandoning their properties or selling them. The town, effectively, shut down in a matter of weeks.

But you remained.

You didn't have anywhere to go or the means to leave. Selling the property was an option but where would you even go? You didn't exactly have a means of moving. Your little car couldn't hold all your possessions and getting a moving company to help was ridiculously expensive...

You felt trapped.

Luda May visited you late one afternoon, a sad smile on her face. "Hello dear." She said softly, the overhead bell ringing to announce her arrival.

Glancing up from the catalogue you were browsing, you smiled back. "Hey Mrs Hewitt. How can I help ya?"

She made her way up to your counter, looking down at the catalogue before looking back up at you. "The Jamisons moved away." She said softly. Your eyes widened and you straightened up. "Just this afternoon." Her voice was shaky as you reached over to hold her hands.

"I'm so sorry..." Your voice was soft as the old woman looked close to collapsing. "I know how close they were with the town, I-"

Luda May held your hands back tight. "It's been so hard, havin' everyone move away just like that. Like this town ain't worth nothin' without the meat plant." She grit her teeth against a wet sob. "My Tommy ain't got no place to work an' we- we can't leave. But if everyone else goes, what'll happen to us? What'll we do?"

You let go of Luda May long enough to slide over your counter to hug her. "I'm so sorry. I- I wish there was something I could do to help..."

She held you tight as she let herself sob. You swayed with her for a moment, trying your best to console her. "Ain't nowhere left to work in this town. We can't survive on pennies from my community center job, sweetheart. It's gettin' too hard." Luda May wept.

You felt for her, truly. "If there's anything I can do, please let me know. You an' your family have done so much for me, for the town. Least I can do is repay the favor."

Luda May pulled back slightly, wiping her cheeks. "You're too good for this world. Certainly the Lord blessed us when he sent you to this town." She sniffed once, straightening up and adjusting her glasses. "You should come on by for dinner tonight. We got guests comin' over an' I think you'd fit right in."

"Oh!" You perked up, smiling at her. "I'd love to! I've got this pie recipe I've been meanin' to try out, I think y'all will love it."

Luda May smiled and nodded along. "I got two hours left in my shift at the community center. I'll come on by and getcha after, alright?"

You nodded excitedly. "I'll get cleaned up. Thank you, I'm honored to be invited along!"

When you turned to hurry up the stairs to your little apartment, you missed the way Luda May's smile faded away. Her heart ached with remorse for what she was sentencing you to.

As she left the store, she cried silent tears for the betrayal she was about to give you.

But, as promised, Luda May came to pick you up just as the sun was going down. You'd gotten cleaned up, dressed nice in light clothing to protect yourself against the hot Texas afternoon. An airy, white and blue striped shirt with the collar pressed nicely alongside matching navy blue shorts. The boots you wore were simple and the cleanest shoes you owned.

When Luda May spotted you, smiling and waving at her as you clutched a wicker basket in your hands, she almost told you the truth. Almost made up a lie to keep you from coming over, to save you from the fate that Charlie - Hoyt, he'd insisted now - would surely sentence you to. But he'd been right. The family needed to eat.

She just wished you'd left town earlier. Packed up your cute little things into neat, nice boxes and left this shithole of a town. But no. You'd stayed because you were sweet. And you trusted her. Which only made her feel worse about putting you into this situation.

You, who had only ever been so kind and loving to her, her family, Tommy...

But she didn't say or do anything. She just smiled as you got into her old truck and drove you down the old, dirt road towards the Hewitt house. The old blue truck rattled but you were polite and didn't say a thing. You were too good for this world, in Luda May's eyes.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a way to save you still.

The Hewitt farm was much bigger than you imagined. The large, manor-like house lay surrounded by various barns, cattle pens, and a nearby junkyard. You didn't let it show on your face but the whole place felt... Dirty.

Like dirt caked every surface, even lightly. As though if you were to drag your fingers across anything, you'd find layers of dirt and dust left on the tips of your fingers. You suppressed a shudder as Luda May left her truck, shutting the door rather loudly. You were quick to follow her up to the big house, stumbling slightly as you hurried.

"Now, be wary of the boys. They tend to be a bit rowdy this late in the day. Once dinner rolls 'round they'll settle. If any of them give you trouble, you come straight to me." Luda May said as you approached the door.

You gave her a quick nod. "Yes ma'am."

The smile she gave you was fond but it was also... something else.

Before you could figure out what, you heard a scream. Your heart lept to your throat but Luda May took your hand in hers and squeezed. "The boys play rough. They're alright, dear." She gave you a warm look. "Lets just get inside 'n outta this heat."

You obeyed, swallowing down a sick feeling you had rising in your stomach.

The inside of the house was. Messy, to say the least. But, you had to remind yourself to be polite as you were guided from the foyer to the kitchen. Some dishes lay in the sink, making Luda May curse. "Monty!" She called somewhere into the house. "Next time ya fuckin' leave dishes in the sink, I'm havin' Tommy throw your damn truck out!"

You blinked back in shock. You'd never heard her talk like that.

A man, who you could only assume was Monty, poked his head into the kitchen. "God damn woman, ain't my job to clean the place!"

Luda May scoffed. "I pride myself on runnin' a clean house. You start undoin' my hard work an' you can sleep in the barn with the other stupid animals!" She let out a loud huff. "Where's Tommy anyway?"

Monty shrugged. "Ain't seen 'im. Might be downstairs." He looked you up and down, over and over. The gesture made you feel dirty. "You can go look for 'im while I entertain our, uh, guest."

"Absolutely not." Luda May said, scrubbing a plate with a brush. "They're my guest, you an' Charlie can keep your dirty hands off. They're the sweet baker from down the road who makes those sweets y'all like so much."

He raised his eyebrows. "Are they now? Well I'll be damned."

You flushed under all the attention, fidgeting nervously with the basket in your hands and deciding to just set in on the counter nearby Luda May. "I could, um, go find Thomas. If- if you wanted?"

Anything to get away from Monty's leering eyes.

Luda May nodded to you. "He should be down in the basement workin'. Don't mind if he doesn't hear ya, you can shout."

You nodded and slipped out of the kitchen, hearing Luda May call the directions to you. Down the hall, first door on the left. Easy. The door in question was underneath a large staircase that led upstairs from the entry foyer. As you reached to open it, your hand froze on the doorknob. The sound of a revving chainsaw and screaming could be heard just beyond the door.

The sounds of heavy footsteps on the staircase above made your stomach swoop and you quickly opened the door and slipped inside. Your breath caught in your throat as the sounds got quieter, the screams turning to gurgles and the chainsaw dying down. Fearing the worst, you were silent on the rickety, old, wooden steps that went down into the darkness of the basement.

You held your breath as you neared the bottom, looking out into the dimly lit room.

Ice-hot fear shot through you at the sight. Thomas, standing over a man's body that was strapped to a table. The chainsaw he'd used lay on a bench beside the table as he appeared to be skinning the eviscerated man laying before him.

Thomas looked up at you and you slapped your hand over your mouth to cover your gasp. Tears filled your eyes as you scrambled back up the stairs, utterly terrified. You tore open the front door and took off running, only going faster when you heard Thomas chasing you.

But he knew the land better than you.

Eventually, through all your running and hiding, you found yourself cornered in one of the large, dusty barns. The ceiling and walls were wooden and the floor was just loose dirt. You whimpered when you saw Thomas's shadow approach you, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stood in the open doorway, meat cleaver in hand as he stared at you. You backed up until you hit the wall but Thomas kept approaching you. "Are you going to hurt me?" You choked through a sob.

Thomas froze and just stared at you. You could tell your question had surprised him but he was quick to recover. He nodded. You felt your heart sink as you slid down to the dirt floor, curling up on yourself.

You sat there, curled up in the fetal position, and began to cry openly. Thomas made a soft grunt but you couldn't hear, too busy crying. You didn't want to die, much less at Thomas's hand. He'd always seemed nice, if a bit intimidating, but you thought he and Luda May were good people.

The memory of the basement flashed in your head and you blinked up at Thomas with wet, red-rimmed eyes. He seemed to deflate then, sitting down criss-crossed in front of you, careful to keep his distance. He set the cleaver down and put his hands in his lap and just watched you.

You sniffed. "Can... can you at least do it quick?"

Thomas looked guilty as he made a grumbling noise. You wished, momentarily, he could talk to you. At least then maybe he'd tell you what he was planning to do to you. Instead, he surprised you by picking up the cleaver and tossing it further away before looking expectantly back at you.

You blinked. "You're... you're not going to hurt me?"

Thomas shook his head.

"Are..." You swallowed a thick lump that had been lodged in your throat. "Are the others...?"

That made Thomas pause. With a thoughtful look, he shook his head once before holding out his hand to you. Slowly, like you were reaching for a dog that might bite your hand off if you were too fast, you slid your hand into his.

The size difference was considerable. His hand was at least a quarter size bigger than yours, if not more, and it was rough. You knew he'd worked at the meat plant cutting up meat so of course he'd have workers hands. He gingerly ran his thumb along the back of your hand, trying to reassure you.

"You won't... let them hurt me, right?" You asked, voice low.

He nodded his head, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. Whatever had changed his mind about hurting you, you weren't willing to question it. "Okay." You said softly, letting Thomas help you stand up. Your clothes were covered in dirt but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Though you did almost retch when you saw the blood on his apron.

"Tommy, where'd you-" Luda May called out, freezing when she saw you with Thomas. He still hadn't let go of your hand as he stepped in front of you with a pleading sound. Luda May's shoulders seemed to sag. "I'm sorry, dear." She looked at you with a remorseful look. "I... I was hopin' to keep you from findin' out. Charlie's been... persistent 'bout gettin' food for the family an' I had no choice."

Your mind slowly caught up to what she was saying. "You... you brought me here to... to be killed and eaten?!" Tears began falling again, streaking down your dirt-covered cheeks.

Thomas squeezed your hand again and you felt like throwing up. Luda May didn't say anything as she looked to Thomas. "Charlie'll be angry to know you're keepin' them alive. Are you sure about this?"

He nodded once, still standing protectively in front of you. As terrified as you were - of both Thomas and the entire concept of being made into dinner - you felt a bit reassured that he was set on not hurting you.

Luda May sighed quietly. "Alright. Dinner'll be ready soon. Proper meat." She shot you a reassuring look. "You two get cleaned up. Charlie'll be back soon."

Thomas tugged your hand gently, looking down at you and asking you to follow. He guided you to walk ahead of him, gently pushing you along after Luda May. You glanced over your shoulder as you walked to spot Thomas picking the cleaver back up. When he noticed your alarmed look, he quickly put it behind his back with wide eyes.

You almost laughed at the hysterical nature of it all. You were being invited to dinner - which you nearly became - and the guy who was going to butcher you was hiding the cleaver so you wouldn't be scared of him. Like you were a kid who had no object permanence.

Thomas genuinely did not want to scare you. You knew that. It didn't make you any less terrified though.

Charlie Hewitt - or Sheriff Hoyt as he was calling himself now, as you were terrified to learn he'd also killed - was currently having a fit.

When you'd come downstairs having mostly cleaned off in the bathroom, he'd spotted you quickly. When Luda May informed him you were a friend of Thomas's and definitely not dinner, he'd been enraged. He'd started throwing things around the house, yelling at Luda May and Thomas, who both stood strong. "I asked ya to find somethin' for dinner and ya bring back nothing? Just some sad lookin' baker kid who ain't worth jack?!"

Luda May glared. "You give em any trouble, I'll beat ya black and blue and make ya sleep outside, ya hear? I ain't puttin' up with your shit tonight, Charlie."

"Hoyt, it's Hoyt now!" He yelled back, smashing a plate.

"Every dish you break, you buy a new one!" Luda May yelled, smacking his arm hard.

Hoyt's eyes fell on you as he glared. When he moved forward to grab you, Thomas was quick to interfere. You ducked behind his arm as he stood between you and Hoyt. "Thomas. Move." Hoyt snarled.

But Thomas didn't budge. In fact, he looked surprised as he looked down at you clinging to his forearm, terrified out of your mind. While you were scared of everyone in the room, Thomas was the most likely to defend you and defend you hard. The cleaver he'd been carrying was laying out on the table and, while you'd known Luda May longer, you doubted she'd be able to use it against Hoyt if he came closer.

"I won't ask you again, boy," Hoyt snarled. Thomas calmly lifted Hoyt up by the collar of his shirt and threw him aside, sending the man crashing into the table with a hard tumble.

Luda May spoke up then. "That's enough!" She snapped at both Hoyt and Thomas. "You two clean up this mess."

Hoyt glared over at her. "We look after family. They," he pointed a finger at you as he stood, "ain't family."

You shared a nervous look with Luda May, who remained steady. "They may as well be. Far as I'm concerned, they're the only one who provided food for dinner tonight." She glared down at Hoyt. "While you were runnin' around playin' dress up."

Hoyt was quiet. "What'd they bring?"

"Meat pies." You said quietly. When Hoyt looked at you, you repeated yourself louder, fearing his anger. "I brought meat pies. L-lamb ones."

The room was silent. "Ya brought lamb pot pies?" Hoyt asked slowly, raising an eyebrow. You nodded frantically and he sighed. "Alright, fine, ya can stay." He grumbled, leaving the room with a huff.

You looked up at Thomas with nervous eyes. The mask he wore obscured a lot of his face but you could see his eyes. He blinked slowly, a softness there you were surprised by.

Clutching his arm tighter, you let yourself relax as Thomas stood protectively beside you. You could survive this, you thought to yourself.

You will survive this.

[bella-rose29]

Domestic Sweetness - part 2

this one is a bit shorter but it's just as sweet, and it's pretty much all lockwood doing stuff but it sets up the third and final part really nicely!

word count: 2.1k

warnings: George is mean about lockwood's culinary skills, a few swear words, and that's it I think

Anthony Lockwood was many things: charming, professional, the leader of a successful business, caring, supportive, and dedicated to his friends and his job, but ‘baker’ was not one of his attributes. 

George Karim, on the other hand, was completely at home in the kitchen. It was his domain, the other being the Archives, and so when he got back from said Archives on a Tuesday in May and heard somebody cursing about kitchen utensils he was immediately on guard. Sure, it was Lockwood’s house, and he had grown up with the appliances in that room, but from what George had seen of his friend’s cooking skills Lockwood was definitely better off being an agent. 

He pushed open the kitchen door and took a breath, hoping that the sight that greeted him wasn’t too horrible. 

Lockwood stood by the table, apple-patterned apron tied around his waist as he stood with his hands on his jogger-covered hips staring at a mixing bowl. He looked up when George sighed at the mess: the bag of flour was opened on the table, the contents scattered in a light film across the thinking cloth, eggshells had been cracked and crushed underfoot and butter was in small patches on the counter. 

“Ah, George, there you are. Where’s the uh… the… hang on,” Lockwood broke off, peering at the recipe in front of him. “Oh, the vanilla extract? I was sure we had it in the top drawer over there but I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

“Oh I moved it. It’s in with the spices now.” He paused for a moment while Lockwood retrieved the ingredient. “… What are you doing?” 

“Baking a cake. Or trying to, anyway.” He frowned. “It’s trickier than I thought it would be. I can’t find the scales so I’m having to guess.” George thought a part of him died a little on the inside. “Y/n’s not feeling great so I thought I’d try and make something to cheer her up.” Just how much the thing that Lockwood was creating would cheer his girlfriend up, George wasn’t sure. He supposed she would care more about the fact that Lockwood had tried than anything else. 

“Right. Do you… need any help?” He desperately hoped that his friend would say yes, just so that George could sort out the atrocities that were happening in the kitchen. 

“Probably, but I’d like to try and do this on my own if that’s alright. It might be a mess but I’m sure she won’t mind.” If Y/n had any sense then she absolutely would mind, and she would throw the cake in the bin. 

“Fine,” George sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “But if this is the reason she breaks up with you then don’t come crying to me, Lockwood.” There wasn’t much weight behind his words, and Lockwood knew it. They were quite possibly the most disgusting couple George had ever seen, despite the fact that PDA was kept to a minimum, and Y/n was just as hopelessly in love with Lockwood as he was with her. They would never break up, and even if George didn’t outright say it (he often pretended to gag and told them to get a room, although unfortunately recently the couple had taken to doing just that) he desperately hoped that he was right about their relationship. 

“Alright, George. Whatever you say,” Lockwood smiled, amusement clear in his features. George would have to clean up the mess later, since he was absolutely certain that Lockwood in his love-struck state would be too busy thinking about delivering the cake to actually do it himself, and he turned and left the room so that he could stop looking at it all. 

He had barely made it to the first step of the stairs when a loud smashing sound came from the kitchen, and a small “…Oops,” followed it. 

~~~

Buses were awful. 

Normally when Lockwood saw a bus it was practically empty, just a few pensioners travelling further into the city and the odd young person going to work, so he felt personally cheated that the bus he was currently on - with his precious cargo in both hands - was packed. 

He sighed, casting a worried glance at the large tupperware box he was carrying when the bus went over a particularly large pothole, and hoped that at least one person would get off at the next stop. He still had about an hour to go on this bus, and while he wouldn’t complain because he was doing it for his girlfriend, he really wanted to sit down. 

Ten minutes later he started complaining. 

Internally, of course, because he didn’t have anybody to talk to and he wasn’t about to become the person on the bus causing a scene, but he was very angry in his head. Not only had nobody got off the bus, but more people had got on, and to top it all off the traffic had worsened. 

The bell dinged, signalling that someone wanted to leave, and the bus slowed down. Lockwood looked around in an attempt to find anybody that looked like they were preparing to move, but there were too many people in the way. They pulled into the bus stop, the doors opened in a whoosh, and all at once passengers stepped off. Just when he thought that everyone had cleared from the bottom level, more came from the top deck and thundered down the stairs so that they didn’t get left behind. As soon as a seat opened up Lockwood rushed for it, sighing in content at the lack of weight on his feet. A few people got on, but since many seats had now become available it wasn’t anywhere near as crowded as it had been. 

“Excuse me, young man, you don’t mind if I perch here do you?” Lockwood looked up to see an old lady with her scarf wrapped around her neck (despite the warm weather they were currently having) and a tight grip on her tartan patterned trolley. She was gesturing to the seat next to him that he was currently using as a resting place for the cake box, and he quickly moved it to offer up the whole seat. 

“Of course not! Here, let me help you with that,” he said, balancing the cake on one leg while he manoeuvred her trolley to lean against the railing in front of their seats. 

“Oh, thank you,” she beamed, pinching his cheek. “Your parents have raised you well, young man. So sweet and kind. They must be so proud of you!” Lockwood tried to hide the pang of sorrow that he felt at her words, and plastered on his classic ‘customer service’ smile. She saw through it almost immediately. “What’s wrong, dear? You’ve got a far away look in your eyes.” Her voice was kind and quiet and inviting, and everything about her made Lockwood want to tell her everything about him, but something held him back. He still choked up a little thinking about his parents, and this lovely old lady didn’t need him crying on her shoulder on a bus. 

“Ah, just thinking about…” he floundered for a moment, unsure what he could be thinking about. “My girlfriend,” he finally settled on. The old lady frowned, looking down at the box he had in his lap. “She’s not feeling well at the moment and I just hope she’s alright.”

“Aw, you just keep getting sweeter, don’t you! Is that what this box is for then?”

Lockwood lit up, sitting straighter in his seat and twisting his body more to face her. “It is, actually! I phoned her this morning to see if she wanted to go out for lunch, but she said she was feeling really awful and couldn’t go anywhere, so I baked her a cake and I’m taking the date to her.” The old lady smiled fondly at him and patted his hand. 

“She’s a very lucky girl, then, whoever she is.” Lockwood felt himself blush, his cheeks growing warm and his stomach flipping over. 

“I’m the lucky one,” he started. “I really don’t know how I ever managed to get her to agree to a first date. Or a second.” He felt that his confusion was justified since when they had first met he’d nearly impaled himself on his rapier after getting his long coat stuck in a fence. He’d tell anyone that listened that he’d tried avoiding stepping on a slug on the pavement, but in reality he’d stumbled after seeing her smile. This old lady didn’t need to know that rather embarrassing story, but she was already moving on to her next sentence. 

“Well, it sounds as though the pair of you are happy. My husband was quite like you when he was around.” She smiled softly. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Lockwood said, smiling back. The old lady frowned in confusion, tilting her head a little. 

“Oh, he’s not dead, dear. He’s just fucked off to France! He used to be so sweet and loving until he went on a business trip ten years ago and decided he would rather live in France with the girls there than with me, the bastard.” She continued cursing him out, much to Lockwood’s amusement, and threatening to do all sorts of things if her husband ever returned. 

Lockwood was wondering if Y/n would enjoy a holiday in France when the old lady switched subject, going on about… ketchup? Or possibly gardening? He was sure she had mentioned tomatoes at some point, but she was talking so quickly he was struggling to keep up.

It was around forty minutes later and many changes in conversation with the old lady (who was called Ethel and had four cats and two dogs, and chickens in her back garden, and a horse in a stable just outside of London, and a very large fish tank) that the bus lurched over a pothole in the road. Instinctively his arm shot out to hold the old lady in her chair, steadying her so that she didn’t go flying over the metal bar in front of their seats. His other hand clutched the cake box while his core muscles clenched to stop his own body going sprawling. “Are you alright?” he asked, scowling out the window in the direction of the pothole. 

“Oh yes, thank you. You’ve quite the strength, haven’t you!”

“Ah,” Lockwood smiled, feeling heat creep up his neck. “Comes with the job, really.”

“Job? What is it that you do, dear?”

“Oh, I’m an agent. I have my own agency, actually. Lockwood and Co, if you’ve heard of us?” Ethel’s face lit up as she settled back into her chair. Lockwood retracted his arm and quirked an eyebrow in question. 

“My granddaughter knows a lot about this stuff, and come to think of it she has mentioned a company with that name. Sings your company’s praises, she does. I’m not sure why - I don’t really understand most of this modern ‘agency’ stuff. I do what she says which is to put up my lavender and stay indoors when it’s dark! But she works in a café, you see, so she often gets the closing shifts since she’s still got some of that… oh, what’s it called - no, don’t tell me… Talent! That’s it. Not much, mind you, which is why she’s not in the field, but it’s enough to mean that she’s safe at night. I give her little trinkets, too. I doubt they’re much good, but even if all she does is chuck a silver pendant at a ghost and runs away, it’ll make me feel better that she has it. Oh, I think this is my stop!” She reached for the red ‘stop’ button, pressing it firmly so it let out a ding, and she grabbed a hold of her trolley. “Would you like a cup of tea, dear? I think I’ve got a thermos somewhere for you to take some ready-made for your girlfriend if you wanted!” Lockwood hesitated. This old lady was so lovely and sweet, and he was starting to feel a bit parched from the long bus journey, but he really should be getting on. 

He had just opened his mouth to politely decline when he noticed what street they were on, and he decided that he could probably get away with it. “Alright then, but only one cup. Luckily this is my stop too, so I can head on to my girlfriend’s house right after.”

“Perfect! Aw, well I’ll bring out my nice teacups,” she said, wheeling her trolley around and heading for the bus doors. Lockwood cast a glance behind him, checking and double checking that he had everything (the cake box was in his hands) and followed her out, saying a bright “Thank you!” to the driver. 

tag list:

@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlitcanvas, @cielooci, @35-portlandxrow, @laumire, @isimpfor-everyone, @furblrwurblr, @midnight--raine, @anniemay4557

@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, and of COURSE @oblivious-idiot for the request

as always, if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

[sunny-porridge]

Around a Cooking Pot

The first thing that Link learned after coming out of the Shrine of Resurrection was how alive the world was. Rolling hills and winding rivers greeted him, beating to the beat of his own heart as he adjusted to the blinding light outside the cave.

The second thing he learned was how to roast an apple over an open fire.

Quickly after that, cooking became second nature. He could coax a smile out of a sad friend with a fragrant mix of fish and butter, conspire with his friends in Kakariko Village after offering a couple pieces of honey candy, or boost his strength before a fight with the help of a meaty skewer.

He often got weary travelers to open up and share their stories over the soothing refrain of a simmering hearty soup, quietly delighting in the satisfied sighs of his unsuspecting guests as they tried a warm meal for the first time in days.

He once even made a cake for a Princess, who refused to share a piece even as she sniffled and stubbornly wiped tears from her eyes at the familiar taste of sweet berries mixed in a luscious rich cream in between layers of fluffy white sponge.

It was no surprise then, that when he set off on a journey with eight heroes of courage, he became the group’s official cook at the sight of the simple stew he made on their first evening together, camping on the forest of the Hero of Time’s era. Link often wondered how his brothers had survived their own adventures going on little else than hardtack, milk, and the occassional friendly monster teaching them the recipe for an unexpectedly delicious soup (which was more likely than one would think).

Sure, most of them had some frequent access to towns, merchants, or their own homes, but adventuring meant spending days at a time on their own, fighting hordes of monsters, exploring the most untouched parts of the land and crawling through long forgotten dungeons, and yet his brothers had been rather helpless around a cooking pot except for the most basic of recipes.

Now, the act of cooking was almost as nourishing as the food he prepared. The rancher had told him once, with a grin and a bump of his shoulders, that it looked like he was in a trance. And sure enough, once he really got into it, he felt as if he merely had to toss ingredients into a pot and watch them bounce, becoming meals in an instant as he hummed a little made-up song and lost track of everything around him. Of course, in reality cooking takes a lot more patience and care, and he likes to take the time to make every detail just right.

It had been almost three years since he separated from his brothers and stopped using the name “Wild”. As he sat around the fire making his new favorite recipe - one he hoped he could one day share with the men who had become his brothers - Link once again lost track of his surroundings, this time to the soft hum of a now familiar tune he had learned from the youngest hero on the team.

He sat on a trunk in a nameless island in the North Akkala Sky Archipelago - whoever named the Sky Islands had clearly gotten bored after the masterpiece of Lightcast Island - preparing a pizza, a brand new recipe he created with Koyin after helping her recover the recipe for cheese. The rancher had introduced him to cheese before, and he sometimes missed the soft, pillowy Ordon Goat Cheese, but the more fragrant version they made in Hateno melted perfectly over the disk of soft bread and thick, herby tomato sauce.

He had already tested a few different toppings to place on top of the pizza, trying to find the perfect companion for the savory cheese. Strips of roasted vegetables where a sensible option and offered a fair variety, but Link didn’t get to where he was by playing it safe. Today, he was testing thin slices of cured meat, and although the result was quite satisfying, he found himself wishing he had saved more of the sweet-and-tangy fruit that grew in the warm islands of the sailor’s world. The pineapples would complement nicely with the rich, fatty tones of the meat.

[izabeladidelgado]

Baking day at school

6:20 am Miercoles

i have a huge cooking day ahead at school. I'm making the sponge cake i already posted the recipe to, as well as my own classic cinnamon rolls. These will be sold at school and all the earnings will be used to pay for our school trip.

My group is using the 1950s as a theme, and we are currently in the lead for the competition !!

Regardless, i am daily manager, and my role is to make sure everyone does their job, and to as well take a lot of the responsibility for contacting sponsors and purchasing the ingredients and items needed. We had a budget of around 200 nok and some sponsors from 4 different companies and my own parents.

I didn't have time to properly do my hair today so i had to do a pretty simply hair style

11:07am Miercoles

As of right now, i'm on my second cake that i have to bake. Wednesday school days are very short so i'll make the cinnamon rolls after school, at home. The other members of the group have yet to make their candy apples and christmas cookies. They're great at procrastinating. But nevertheless, Ai-linh and Maia have been great members and contributed very well. My friend Natalia is in charge of advertising and design, and she's doing a great job as well. She is an extremely creative girl and she's great at what she does.

The school day is almost over, so i'll have to carry a few kilos of ingredients for around 6 km or so. But i skipped workout yesterday, so it's only fair that i catch up !!

My cooking class teacher was awfully nice today, so i thanked her for that. She's usually very strict and doesn't let people get away with mistakes, but this time she was very nice. Maybe it was because we were the only people in class today. [Me and william]

12:09am Miercoles

We're almost finished for the day, and i'm taking the bus home instead cause i have way much stuff to carry

We have two cakes in the fridge and some rolls in the oven. Cookies and apples are yet to be picked up. Tomorrow i'm most likely making coffee as well.

Ai-linh and Maja haven't showed up today to school, so i'm assuming they're out picking up from sponsors and buying the stuff we need. I like to give them the benefit of the doubt.

these are the rolls William made. We failed at cinnamon rolls as it forgot to add butter and properly let the yeast sit. But regardless, they seem to turn out good.

13:18 Miercoles

It turns out Ai-Linh and Maja didn't actually need the sugar, so i walked the 6km though my plan was to not. I'm home at the moment, and my plan is to hopefully be able to make cinnamon rolls, or i'll do so tomorrow. I'm very tired after today, due to all the work i've done and not being able to take breaks. But regardless, i have to buy a dress today to fit the theme of the day.

19:08 miercoles

Me and my brother were home alone, and he wanted pancakes. And since i recently finished reading him Percy Jackson, i figured i'd make him blue pancakes.

After that, i helped him with his homework. And once he was put to bed, i did my own, and some other physics studies about cardinal numbers. It took a little while, but afterwards, i went to bed myself.

11:35 jueves

I finally talked to Ai-linh and Maja, and they finally gave me an update on whag they did. Their sugar apples failed, so they were going to make an apple pie today instead, since we couldn't waste the apples we got sponsored. Daniel hasn't done anything - genuinely, i spoke to him, requesting an update on what he had done for the past three days, and he proudly stated that he had done nothing. Not even had he helped Maja or Ai-linh. He then proceeded to complain about how long we were taking to finish the project, which was quite hypocritical of him. Nevertheless, i took both the cakes i had baked on top of eachother, and it turned out pretty good. We made cinnamon rolls as well, and it's made with my own recipe, so om excited to see what the parents and judges think.

13:45 Jueves

I'm at the bus stop right now, waiting for the 13:49 bus, that i'll take to get to church. I won't be there for long, as i have to be back at school by 16:00 and as well bake some more at home, and get ready for the event. So far, everything has gone great - ai-linh and Majas apples failed, but i'm sure the apple pie will turn out great!! It's all just trial and error, but we'll make it work eventually.

Tomorrow, we're finished at school at around 10:50 due to how long we'll be at school today.

17:09

This is how the stand currently looks !! i'm very proud of my group and myself

[the girl in the corner is my childhood best friend Kira !! she's the sweetest and smartest girl ever] my step sister will be coming along to visit our stand, so i'm very excited for that as well. I doubt Daniel will ever show up, but we manage fine without him.

20:12 jueves

The event went amazing!! We won first place for best logo, and we sold out practically everything. I had about 4 apples, and a slice of cake, even though i'm lactose intolerant, as well as allergic to apples. But hopefully i'll be fine. My step sister came along, and gave me the letter i needed to give to my psychiatrist describing me as a person, as well as things she believed was necessary for my diagnosis and treatment. I am not allowed to read the letter, due to my promise to her, but she gave me a good idea of what was in it. Nevertheless, i got some gingerbread cookies from my friends that were one stand away from us, and since we were all under 15, we weren't allowed to use the service "vipps" which is used to transfer money. So we all traded our products across eachother.

also a picture i took today!!

[slashersteve]

ii. fall

part two to confetti ✦ previous part ✦ series masterlist ✦ archive link

pairing: Single Dad!Steve Harrington/Female Reader

summary: Autumn was your favorite season, and spending it in Hawkins made you enjoy it even more when you spend most of it with Steve and Cassie.

warnings/extra tags: cursing, girl dad steve, fluffy, fall activities ive had to study because im a clown, moms are still in love with steve, its literally just steve and reader being all heart eyes for any little thing fall edition, mentions of steve's dumb parents, steve is a good daddy, surprise character appearance, beta read, edited by me so that's fun

note: I think this is the longest part because I love fall and wanted to put everything in it akljslkajsa thanks for waiting, and enjoy more Steve and Cassie ♥️

✦✦✦

October’s first school event would be the annual bake sale. You learned it was a long lasting tradition of the schools, and that it was an event that helped fund a lot of the winter activities for Hawkins Elementary, and maybe even some field trips for the following year, depending on how successful it was.

Now though, you were free from studying, and made your own money, and you were going to make at least something.  

“I usually just keep it simple like cookies or something,” Heidi told you during your shared lunch break, “The baker on main street comes, and trust me, he goes all out and gets the highest sales.” 

“Is it a competition?” you questioned as you ate your homemade sandwich and flipped through a magazine that was always left in the office lounge. Heidi chuckled into her salad. 

“No, no,” she said, “Between you and me, he’s a bit of a show off when it comes to it, which makes sense because he’s good at what he does, right?” 

You honestly couldn’t say you’ve visited the baker’s yet, you didn’t even know his name, so who were you to say if his baked goods were actually good or not. 

“Anyway, cookies are the easiest way to go, brownies are also simple, cupcakes and muffins are a little more complicated but it’s not a whole cake at least, right?” Heidi chuckled to herself, and it made you chuckle too because of how glad she was that the office wasn't doing a cake walk, “I guess it depends on how good of a baker you are, but like I said, our baker goes above and beyond so it doesn’t really matter.” 

You hummed with interest before your eyes settled back onto the magazine, catching a photo of some delicious looking cookies covered in light brown sugar. They were apple cinnamon sugar cookies, according to the recipe title, and Heidi saw your eyes peak with interest and she leaned over to look at them too. 

“Oh those would be good, you should make those,” Heidi told you with a nod, “I can taste them already.” 

So, you found yourself at the grocery market right after your work day ended, a basket in one hand and the recipe you cut out of the magazine with a pair of scissors from your desk in the other as you scoured the market for the proper ingredients.

All purpose flour. Check. Cinnamon. Check. Baking soda. Check.

There was still more, like the cream of tartar and the actual apples for example as the recipe called for grated apples so ‘there would be pieces of apple in every bite.’

You were looking down at the magazine cutout as you were walking, admittingly not paying much attention to where you were walking or who you were dangerously close to colliding with, not until a familiar voice spoke up. 

“Dee’s mom is going to make a cake,” the high-pitched voice of Cassie Harrington echoed across the aisle, “She said it was going to be like..three cakes on top of each other.”

“What? That doesn’t sound right,” Steve Harrington’s voice replied back to her, and you were stopping in your tracks and looking up to see the back of Steve’s head as he was leaning over a shopping cart to look at his daughter. She was holding onto the side of the cart while she carried three cake mixes in one arm, just barely as one looked like it was slipping from her grasp. 

“That’s what Dee told me, so we need to make a cake too,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. 

You just sort of stood there, feeling a bit of anxiety flush through you because you hadn’t seen nor talked to Steve since Back to School Night a few weeks prior…you never received a phone call from him, but to be fair, you hadn’t called him either. 

You felt a bit guilty for not calling him, having been so busy yourself.

“Cass, they’re making a cake because they’re part of the cake-walk though, and we’re not,” Steve tried to explain to her, but she wasn’t having it, wanting to bake a cake rather than just bringing store bought cookies, some of which were currently resting in the cart on top of other groceries. 

“But you didn’t make these cookies,” Cassie pouted, turning to look at her dad. It was then that Cassie had seen you, her eyes landing on yours until she recognized you before they flickered down to the basket you were holding. 

She was suddenly pointing at you, and you took a step back quickly to put some space between you and her dad as she said, “Look! She’s baking something!”

Steve was turning his head, his brows furrowed in confusion before his eyes too landed on you. He blinked a couple of times at the sight of you, and you offered a smile as you said, “So, you’re going for store-bought cookies?” 

After a second or two, you watched Steve laugh breathlessly and nod, “Yeah. I’m not much of a baker, to be honest. Never have been.” 

“But you made us those other cookies last time,” Cassie cut in, and Steve looked down at her. 

“Those were pre-made, all I had to do was pop them in the oven,” Steve reminded her, and she huffed, still hugging the cake mix boxes to herself as she looked back at you. Her eyes grew curious then, and she asked you what it was you were baking. 

You held up the magazine cut-out, amused by the fact that Cassie was desperately trying to make her dad make literally anything homemade for this bakesale. 

“Something called apple cinnamon sugar cookies, bit of a mouthful,” you told her, holding out the cutout to show her. She leaned in a bit, examining it until her eyes lit up and she hummed as she practically melted on the spot at the sight of the cookies. Steve leaned over to look at it too.

“God, those do look really good,” he said quietly to himself, making you smile as you dropped your hand back to side just as Cassie turned to look at her dad and say, “We can make that too! Please! The stuff is all there!” 

She gestured to your hand that held the cutout, and you waved it in Steve’s face. He scoffed at you, though it was more out of amusement than anything else before he took it from you to actually look at the recipe itself. 

Cassie was giddy standing beside the cart, hugging the boxes of cake-mix tighter to herself as she awaited for her dad to finish reading through the recipe. His features contorted slightly and he said, “What the hell is a cream of tartar?”

This made you laugh, and you said, “My thoughts exactly, I was actually just looking for it.” 

His contorted expression vanished as he laughed too, and held the cut-out for you to take back, and looked at his daughter with an apologetic look,  “I want to say that seems easy enough, but…god I just don’t think I have the time to actually make these.”

Her face fell, and it was probably the saddest you’ve ever seen Cassie Harrington who was always so smiley and had half of an attitude whenever she came around the office still to give you food she didn’t want. 

“But…but she could help us,” Cassie said, now turning that sad look of hers toward you. It made you pause, not remembering the last time a kid has ever tried the ‘sad puppy dog’ look on you. The kids you used to babysit all the time did it with you whenever they wanted to stay up later or have another sweet. You’d grown immune to that, but there was something about Cassie specifically looking like that that made you feel bad…like she probably wanted you to. 

Steve gave Cassie a raised brow and said, “Don’t give her that look.” 

Her eyes turned into a small glare, pointing to her dad and he gave her one back until it became a staring contest between the two. You just sort of stood there, looking between them now with a half-curious and half-amused expression as they just stared at each other and you could tell this was something that happened often between the two. 

Steve’s eyes squinted, then so did Cassie’s, and she even tilted her head upwards as if to show him she wasn’t going to back down. Steve’s look then turned pointed, and her jaw tightened, and he raised both brows and then Cassie was letting out a defeated breath. 

“Fine, we’ll use…those dumb cookies,” she said, muttering the last part toward the storebought cookies in the cart. She then turned away to set the cake mix boxes back onto the shelf, still finding it in her to be polite enough to do so. 

Steve turned toward you with a sigh, “Sorry about that.” 

You met his brown eyes then, and shook your head as you said, “Don’t apologize…you know though…if you need help I can help.” 

You made sure to say that low enough so that Cassie couldn’t hear and you noticed Steve’s demeanor grew slightly soft at your offer, his eyes flickering downward for a moment before he pursed his lips together and shook his head. 

“No, no it’s alright,” he replied, resting a hand back on the handle of the shopping cart, “She’ll live, I’ll just make her breakfast for dinner tonight.” 

“Breakfast for dinner?” 

He nodded, “Yeah, baking? No way. And I don’t mean to brag, but I can make a pretty good pancake.” 

That made you smile for some reason, feeling like you were learning more and more about Steve Harrington despite the fact you too only really talked in moments like this where you just so happened to run into each other. 

“I love pancakes,” you said, then felt a little silly even saying that as he didn’t need to know that, but he was smirking softly as he leaned onto the cart slightly and replied to you, “Maybe one day I can make you some.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, the tone he said it in being borderline flirtatious but you didn’t want to look too much into that, rather just laughing and started to step backwards to make your leave so that you could finish finding the right items and he could finish his grocery shopping with Cass. 

“I look forward to whenever that happens then,” you stated, “I’ll let you guys finish your grocery trip…” You gestured to the both of them, but Cassie was suddenly returning to herself. 

“Wait!” she said, “Can I help you find the rest of the stuff? Daddy, can I help her?” 

She asked the both of you at once, hope returning to her eyes, and Steve seemed unsure, not because of you though but in case Cass tried to get you to buy her something because she’s done it before with Mrs. K and Karen Wheeler before, coming back to him with a candy he told her she didn’t need. 

“Uh, I just need to find this cream of tartar, and some apples,” you said as you looked at the cutout quickly. That’s when Cassie suddenly got another idea the moment you said apples. 

“Oh! Does that mean you’re going apple picking?”

You tilted your head at the mention of that…apple picking. It was pretty self-explanatory, but the idea of it had never really crossed your mind. 

“I…no I was just going to buy them here,” you replied to her, not knowing that there was even an apple picking event here in Hawkins anyway. Cassie looked suddenly disgusted, and when you looked at Steve, so did he. You blinked at them, and asked them what was wrong with buying apples here, growing slightly amused again at how their expressions matched exactly. 

“Is there something like…wrong with them here?” you questioned them both. 

“Not exactly, but the apples from the apple farm a town over are way better, trust me,” Steve told you, “They have this apple picking event every fall, you pay for however many baskets you want, and then you…you know pick apples and take them home.” 

“Yeah, we’re going tomorrow!” Cassie cut in again excitedly, before she grabbed her dad’s arm and said, “She can come with us!”

Steve was looking at Cassie again, a slight flush over his cheeks as he told her she had to stop trying to tell people to go places with them without asking them first because she can make someone uncomfortable real quick, and Cassie looked absolutely done with her dad’s attitude in this store. 

Then he turned to you again, brown eyes finding yours as he asked, “Have you been apple-picking before?”

“No,” you replied after giving it little thought, “Not many apple farms in the city, you know, unless you want to drive a couple hours out…store-bought apples were definitely closer and less of a hassle.”

“Ah, right, you’re from the city,” Steve pointed at you, “I mean…if you would like to go with us, or you know just be there at the same time, that’ll be totally okay. Plus, I think it’s an experience everyone should have at least once.”

A small grin was returning to your face, knowing that Steve was inviting you properly for Cass, who looked up at you with wide eyes that matched Steve’s almost identically.

“I…I would actually love to go,” you said genuinely, watching as Steve’s eyes lit up like Cassie’s might, “I mean, you said it’s something I should experience at least once, so…yeah…yeah I’ll go.”

“Great!” Steve blurted out before his cheeks grew flushed, and Cassie was giddy again, “You want to meet there, I can give you the directions?” 

“Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there, just…call me tonight to tell me more details, maybe?” you said, working that in almost professionally. At the mention of calling, Steve’s cheeks became even more flushed because like you when he had seen you he felt guilty that he’d forgotten to call you as well, having been, per usual, very busy with Cass and his three different jobs. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said, and you smiled with a content nod. 

“Good,” you said, “I look forward to it then, I’m gonna go and find that cream of tartar now and I’ll see you two tomorrow?” 

Both of them nodded, and you both said a final see you later before you were stepping backwards, leaving one last longing stare at Steve Harrington before turning around with a large smile on your lips, looking forward to apple picking with the both of them. 

✧ ✧ ✧

The apple orchards were just simply beautiful to you as you sat on the tractor that took you and the other apple pickers in your group around the entire farm before they would stop at the orchards and allow time for you and everyone else to fill up your baskets. 

“We have to get all the red ones,” Cassie Harrington was sitting beside you, the basket she had looked comically big in her lap compared to the same basket that was sitting in yours. 

“There’s a lot of those ones, I don’t think they’re going to run out,” you replied to her as you looked out into the distance at the rows and rows of apple trees. 

It was a nice day, clear skies and a light wind that felt nice against your skin every time a breeze passed by. 

Beside Cassie was Steve, and he wasn’t looking at the orchards like you and Cassie were, but he was looking at… well you. The sun shined down on you in a very specific way, and it made the color of your eyes more visible. His chest sort of tightened and he had to carefully release a soft hitch of his breath. 

He would admit to himself that he had been nervous when he called you the night before, using a quick break in order to do so from the phone in the employee lounge at the market he worked the night shift at. He knew it was late, but he also knew you were expecting that call.

You had sounded very sleepy on the phone, but there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in your voice either which surprised Steve because of the hour, like you were looking forward to the call…like you might’ve been looking forward to a call since you’ve exchanged numbers. He beat himself up for a moment or two, wishing he didn’t do that to you, but knowing that it was really something he couldn’t help. 

“You do this every year?” you asked Cassie, tearing Steve from his thoughts. He looked at his daughter now, her hair in two braids that he had done just before they got on the tractor because she changed her mind about the pony tail and clips she had him style her hair in that morning…clips that were currently in the pocket of his jacket. 

“Only last year,” Cassie replied to you, “My daddy barely discovered it last year through my friend Delilah and her mom.” 

You were nodding along to Cassie, and not in the way people typically nodded along to children when they spoke to them, you actually seemed genuinely interested in holding this conversation with her and it made Steve feel slightly warm. 

“Sounds like it could be a nice tradition though,” you said with a small smile as you looked back to the orchards. Cassie was nodding. 

“Yeah, I like it! The apples are super good, so that means your cookies are going to be super good too!” she claimed, which made you chuckle in response. 

“I hope you’re right, like your dad here, I’m actually not the best baker,” you admitted, your eyes finding Steve’s that were already on yours. He blinked softly, realizing he’s been mentioned as you chuckled again and said, “But I’m willing to try, especially if these are as good as you say they are.” 

“They are,” Cassie said confidently, grasping the basket between her hands just as the tractor came to a stop. Steve knew what she was going to do and caught her hand before she could hop off and start running like it was some kind of competition of who could pick the most apples. 

“Hey! Hey! Let’s help her pick some before you go getting into a fight with another kid for an apple you want,” Steve told her, and she was starting to nod in agreement with him and even apologized before all three of you got off together. 

Cassie held the basket in one hand now while the other was in her dad’s, and you trailed beside them holding your own as you gazed at all the apples, wondering if there was some kind of trick to finding the best ones. 

Some of the trees were taller than the others, so they had ladders, and others were small enough so that a kid like Cassie could pick some of her own as well. You did stay together for the most part, Cassie pointing out apples for you to get, and some for Steve to grab that were too high for her. 

After you had a good few, Steve let Cassie run off to find some of her own, leaving just you and him. You wandered over to one of the trees nobody had been picking at, and before Steve knew it you were suddenly on a ladder. 

He stared up at you, feeling this sudden regretful feeling come over him that he’d been feeling since your teasing comment the day prior about him calling you for details.

“Hey so,” Steve started from below you, “I wanted to apologize for not calling you.” 

You were reaching for a particularly large apple that was further into the tree, your fingers just barely grazing it and you were going to reply to Steve when a dramatic gasp had cut you off. 

“You didn’t call her!?” Cassie called, the gasp coming from her.

Steve looked away from you, and toward Cassie who was standing there with a basket half-full of apples. Steve stared at her for a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed by her blurting that out, others had looked over, but fortunately you seemed more preoccupied with still getting that giant apple off of the tree.

In fact, you grumbled, going up another step on the ladder, while Steve walked over to Cassie. 

“Are these all the apples you got?” Steve asked, and she shrugged as she looked down at them too, and told him that these kids were more mean this year than last year. It made Steve shake his head, and rest his hands on his hips before she asked him if she could sit down and listen to her music. 

“You’re done already?” he questioned, and she nodded. It was just as well, she did have an early morning today like he did so he told her she could sit in the tractor and listen while he filled the rest of the basket up. She grinned and nodded, already putting the walkman headphones over her ears before running toward the tractor. 

“Uh, Steve-” 

He was turning toward you, seeing you on the top of the ladder and he stared for a moment before realizing you were holding onto the actual tree for dear life. 

“Could you hold me steady?” you asked, turning your head to look back at him and Steve was nodding, quickly walking back toward you as he rolled his sleeves up and went behind you. 

“Uh- where do you want me to hold you?” he asked, not wanting to hold you anywhere that might be inappropriate or uncomfortable for you. You told him to just place his hands on the back of your thighs, and he sucked in a breath before nodding. 

He carefully held you still, feeling the denim of your jeans underneath his palms as you were finally steady enough to lean forward and successfully wrap your hands around the apple you really wanted. 

“Got it!” you said, before you started to climb down. Steve helped you do that too until you were on your feet. You got a bit of vertigo though being on the ground again, your head feeling slightly dizzy that if it hadn’t been for Steve grasping your shoulders you might’ve almost embarrassingly lost your balance. 

When you came to, you were met with the concerned face of Steve, his brown eyes flickering over you to see if you were okay. You held up the apple though and said, “I think I like doing this, it’s pretty fun.”

“I can see that, you worked really hard to get that apple,” Steve commented, eying the apple that was a pretty impressive size, “Damn, no wonder you climbed so high to get that one.”

You clicked your tongue, and said, “I’m having a lot of fun, thanks for inviting me.” 

“Yeah, no problem, Cass is really enjoying you being here too, before she ran off is all,” Steve said, turning his head where Cass was sitting on the tractor with the headphones placed over her ears and her head nodding back and forth to whatever song she was jamming to. 

“Also, you don’t have to apologize for not calling, I mean, I didn’t call you either,” you told him, finally responding to his apology that Steve had accepted went unheard when Cassie interrupted. Steve stared at you for a moment, and let out a quiet breath. 

“Still…I don’t know, as the guy I feel like it’s my obligation to call the girl first,” Steve admitted, as in his experience with women in the past it was always him calling first, whether it’s after a date, a good morning call- things he would do before Cassie came into his life and he stopped everything to be the father she deserved. 

“Well, that would make sense if we were romantically involved, which we aren’t…” you said, hearing your own voice grow a little soft at the idea of it. In fact, you kind of batted your eyelashes at Steve, just slightly, and if he noticed, which he did, he didn’t tease you..

“That’s true…but…to be honest, I probably still wouldn’t have,” Steve said, suddenly cringing at his own behavior that he was acutely aware of, but no matter how guilty he might’ve felt he still hadn’t changed it yet. A smile that mirrored his came onto your lips and you laughed quietly. 

“You know, I’ve never really been a high maintenance friend, Steve,” you said, trying that out instead and Steve looked genuinely surprised by the term. It wasn’t like he didn’t have friends, in fact he even had a best friend who wasn’t very high maintenance either since she moved to New York over a year ago, a single phone call every once in a while and visit usually sufficed, but the idea that he found a friend in you, that you even started to consider him as one, made Steve’s brain a little buzzed. 

He guessed he hadn’t made a new friend in a while now, and he was glad that it was you. 

“Huh…I guess we are friends,” Steve said, moreso to himself. Your smile grew wider and you nodded. 

“I would say so,” you replied, then held up your full basket of apples, “And I think that friends should help each other bake cookies for the bake sale on Monday.”

He glanced down at the apples, wondering how you managed to find the biggest ones in the orchard and was impressed all at once. He rested his hands onto his hips, lifting his eyes back up to meet yours and you were giving him an expectant look, like you weren’t going to take no for an answer and Steve honestly liked that. 

Something else brewed up inside of him, something not so warm but rather hot, and he had to cool down by sucking in a tight breath before saying, “Oh, Cass is going to jump for joy.” 

You laughed, that look on your face all but vanishing and being replaced with amusement, and the heat only got stronger. Steve’s eyes lingered onto your lips, longer than the other times he’d been with you, and the foggy part in his brain wondered just what would happen if he just leaned in and kissed you. 

Of course, he wasn’t going to because above all he was still a gentleman and was aware that just because you make a woman laugh doesn’t necessarily mean they want to be snogged, but Steve still wondered how your lips would feel against his. 

It was lucky, then, when Cass was calling out to him and taking his and your attention off of each other before you had more time to notice his slightly heated gaze. His father instinct kicked in almost immediately when he heard Cassie’s cry of distress. 

Steve was turning around, eyes growing concerned and brows pulling inward as his eyes found his daughter dashing toward him with her walkman and headphones in each hand. Tears prickled at the corner of her brown eyes. 

“It’s not playing!” she cried as she got to her dad, “It just stopped! I didn’t do anything!” 

Steve grew slightly relieved that it was just the walkman acting up, as his first thought had been that she was somehow hurt. 

Beside him, you were frowning because of Cassie’s clear distress and sadness over the walkman suddenly breaking on her, as you’ve been there before yourself. She held it up to Steve, her lips quivering and tears fully pouring from her eyes. 

Steve took them from her, eying them for only a moment before sighing, as if he knew one day these things would just break on her. It was an older model, you observed, and Steve all but gave them a quick look over before tossing them into his half full basket of apples on the floor beside his feet and resting his eyes back on his little girl. 

“Hey, don’t cry, alright, these things were old, I’ve had them since I was in high school,” he told Cassie softly. 

“I know, but-but I wanted to listen to music,” Cassie cried, “And now I can’t!”

A sympathetic smile was on Steve’s lips as he knelt down in front of his upset daughter and wiped her tears away with his thumb, “There’s worst things to happen, and these can be replaced, alright?” 

Cassie sniffled, “But how will I listen to my music?”

“Well there’s the radio in the car, the stereo at home…” Steve listed off, “It’ll be okay, I can get you a new one, ones that won’t skip over tracks so that you have to hit it.” 

Cassie’s eyes showed more light in them at the idea of that, “Really?” 

Steve nodded, “Yes, really- but it’s totally okay to cry about it, I think I might cry too. I’ve been through a lot with this guy.” 

Cassie giggled, and Steve’s smile turned warm, happy to make his little girl smile again after mourning the loss of her walkman. Steve kissed her head affectionately and said, “I have good news though, we are going to bake cookies for the bake sale.” 

Her face lit up completely, her cheeks still tear stricken but her eyes were brighter now. 

“We’re going to bake a cake?” Cassie asked, hopeful and Steve winced. 

“No, no! Not a cake, I already told you we don’t have to…I was thinking more like…” Steve looked over at you, and you stared for a second before saying, “Chocolate chip cookies?” 

Steve snapped his finger, “Yeah! We’re going to do that…it’s not a cake, but it’s still baking.” 

Cassie was still excited, nodding up at her dad and saying, “We’re going to bake! Let’s go home and start now!” 

This made Steve laugh, and Cassie was trying to pick up the basket to bring back to the tractor that would take you back to the farm. Meanwhile, Steve looked back at you and you were smiling again, thinking to yourself that no wonder everyone (the mothers of Hawkins really) were so enamored with him. The way he comforted Cass, how soft his voice became…you realized you couldn’t be more attracted to a man.

And now, you are going to have him in your house.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your entire house smelled like a bakery. The smell of cinnamon was strong, mixed with the sweet pleasant scent of chocolate. Music was playing out of the stereo in your living room, music chosen specifically by Cassie Harrington when you told her the day prior that she could listen to anything she decided to bring or anything you had too. 

Steve was standing beside you, wearing a cupcake apron with frills that matched Cassie’s, a pair she chose when she and her dad went to the market the morning of with a list of ingredients you relayed to him over the phone the night before. Your second late night phone call.

Cassie was busy taste testing one cookie from each batch before she’d package them away in these clear bags that had fall leaf designs all over it, complimenting your apple cinnamon cookies after devouring one. She was making you laugh a lot this afternoon, and so was Steve. 

“Okay, okay Cass, you’re going to get a tummy ache,” Steve told his daughter after she ate her fifth chocolate chip cookie. She pouted at him, claiming that she wouldn’t, but Steve wasn’t buying it.

“I’ll set some aside for you, Cassie,” you chimed in as you were grating more apples for yet another batch of your cookies while Steve was stirring chocolate chips into the mixture he was working on in one of your many mixing bowls. 

“But how will we know it’s not poisoned?”

“Cass nobody’s poisoning anything- what- why would you think we’d put poison in these?” Steve asked, practically horrified by his daughter’s choice of words and Cassie sighed and replied, “That’s what Dustin says we have to do! I’m helping!”

Yet again, you were laughing while Steve just stared at his daughter practically dumbfounded before he said, “It’s not poisoned, and I think the mixtape you brought is about to end, so you’ll have to change it.” 

Cassie turned her head, recognizing the final song on it as she listened to it all the time and was going to go change it (or start it over) but not before sneaking another cookie. Steve huffed, turning his attention back to the mixing bowl. 

“So how’s the broken walkman situation?” you asked Steve suddenly. He let out a deep sigh, as if hating to be reminded of that, “Sorry for bringing it up.”

“No, no- I was honestly waiting for them to just break, I was just hoping it would be closer to Christmas,” he said, wiping his face with the hand that was covered in flour. You glanced at Steve, your eyes instantly going to the flour that was suddenly decorating his cheek. He didn’t seem to notice, too focused on getting the right consistency of the cookie dough…in fact he was actually covered with various stains, on his forehead, his arms, and his neck. Your eyes lingered there for a bit before you forced your eyes back to what you were doing. 

“No back ups? I remember having a back up,” you joked. 

“That was the back-up,” he replied quickly, “It’s alright- she’ll be fine until Christmas…hopefully, honestly I might have to see if Mrs. K has one. Sometimes she has random things for Cass.”

You tilted your head gently, and asked him who Mrs. K was, as you feel like he had mentioned her before. Steve was quiet for a second, as if confused you didn’t know who she was until he remembered you barely moved here in the summer.

“Oh she’s my neighbor, nice older woman, probably the nicest person in this town really, she gives me and Cassie a lot of things like vegetables from her garden, or random casseroles and sometimes just these bulks of snacks.” 

You hummed with interest, thinking that to be kind of sweet. As Steve began to mess with the finished dough, he laughed and continued to say, “It’s kind of nice honestly, because my parents moved out of this place years ago, like maybe a year after Cass was born and I barely hear from them- so it’s almost like she’s Cassie’s unofficial grandparent.” 

Though you didn’t know much about Steve yet, you thought it was safe to assume that Steve shared no relationship to his parents, and you didn’t know what to say about it, feeling like if you asked anything he’d tell you to leave it alone.

“I used to have someone like that,” you said rather than that, making Steve look back at you. Now you were the one looking away, too focused on finishing the next and final batch of cookies, “My fifth grade teacher, and probably the only person I think my dad might’ve dated.” 

It was odd bringing that up, but like Steve had done with you, you were word vomiting too and immediately felt embarrassed. Steve didn’t seem to think so though, instead asking you to tell him more about it. 

“She was just super nice, and I could tell he liked her a lot,” you said vaguely, feeling slightly uncomfortable talking about your dad because it had been a while since you’ve talked to someone about him, considering he was the only family you had left before his passing, “The point is, it’s good to have people willing to help like that.” You chuckled then smiled weakly.

To be honest, you hadn’t thought of your dad since you moved here, not as often as you would’ve liked… you hadn't even got around to putting photos of you and him around the house. A part of you felt…sad that you hadn’t, like you didn’t know if you were mourning him enough anymore. Steve had noticed your expression turn grim, how the smile that followed your soft chuckle suddenly turned into a frown. 

“I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry,” Steve said, realizing that it was a touchy subject for you. You quickly shook your head. 

“No, no it’s alright, it’s been a while…I mean the grief doesn’t really go away, but…I just hadn’t talked about him with anyone in a long time,” you admitted to Steve.

“I mean, I really like talking to you, about anything so if you’d like to talk about him, or anything else again…well you have my number.” 

You looked at Steve again, feeling touched by his statement, forgetting that you probably weren’t going to see him for a few weeks following this unless things changed in his schedule, but the gesture felt nice. You nodded softly at him, and said almost breathlessly “Okay.” 

Steve winked at you before he turned his attention back on his dough, then he grabbed a separate spoon and brought it up to his lips to taste before asking you, “Is this good? It looks good, it tastes good, but is it good?”

The spoon he was holding was turned to you, wanting you to validate it before rolling them into balls and putting them in the oven.

You didn’t mind, really, parting your lips and taking a bite of the dough off of the spoon he held. He stared at you, brown eyes resting onto your lips for a few seconds too long before lifting them to meet your eyes. You hummed at the sweet taste flooding your mouth, and nodded, “You’re kind of a natural at baking, you know that?” 

A grin spread across his lips, “You’re just saying that, it’s not as good as yours. Mine’s just basic chocolate chip, anyone can make it.” 

“Making bad chocolate chip cookies are possible- and you managed to make really good ones on the first try, I’m pretty impressed,” you said, half paying attention to the sound of Cassie diving through your various cassette tapes, something you said she could do if she wanted. You never really listened to music anymore, unless you were cleaning. 

You could feel Steve’s eyes still on you, seeing him in your peripherals and pretending you couldn’t, even as your cheeks started to heat up and you said randomly, “I kind of wish we went with M&M cookies for you…same concept…more colorful and exciting.” 

Steve paused, “Are those your favorite or something?”

“Oh yeah, something about them really hits the spot,” you joked. Steve half-grinned, as if he learned something even more interesting about you and he glanced at it before he took a double take. 

“Wait, look at me real quick,” Steve told you, and you did, seeing his eyes zero in on your cheek before he pointed and said, “You got a little something right there.” 

You blinked, and he laughed as he grabbed one of the clean dish towels to wipe whatever it was off of your cheek. Your body burst with warmth when he held the fabric to your left cheek. You also felt bad because he was covered in flour head to toe and you didn’t tell him even once. He’d have to take a shower to get it all off probably, but this didn’t change the fact that he was practically holding your face in his large hand.

Heat plummeted throughout you, and you found that you didn’t want to move away, and maybe he didn’t either, as even after he successfully wiped your cheek he didn’t move away. No, he stayed this close to you, so close that your nose caught a whiff of his suddenly familiar cologne that had been masked by the smell of cookies after a while. It was enough to make your mind fog up, just a little, and your breath hitched softly…something that Steve caught.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked you, a teasing element lingering underneath his tone. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and you swallowed thickly, unsure what was going on, and your nerves made you say, “You got something too…uh…well everywhere.”

Steve’s eyes furrowed as your eyes flickered at his entire face, breaking whatever trance he’d entered, and you could see his cheeks turn a little pink underneath the flour. God, did you want him to break out of it? Because he was moving away from you then, and you felt slight disappointment…wondering if something would’ve happened if you didn’t say anything. 

“Everywhere? How?” Steve asked you, now bringing the towel to his face. You gestured to his cheek, then his neck, and his arms and his eyes grew wide. Just then Abba’s “Mamma Mia” started to blast through the speakers, and Cassie was back in the kitchen and wiping her brow like finding the right cassette really tired her out. 

“Okay! I’m back to try more cookies,” she announced. You laughed quietly, and told Steve where the bathroom was before turning to Cass and telling her, “After this final batch you can test one, but first put on some gloves and help me roll the dough into the sugar.” 

Steve was just about to go to the restroom to clean up a bit, but found himself taking a bit of a moment to take in the sight before him. Cassie was now sitting on the stool on her knees right beside you, too big of plastic gloves on her smaller hands, watching you roll the dough into the sugar, then doing one of her own. 

Something swelled up into his chest, something he didn’t quite understand, but he did recognize the warm feeling of happiness seeing Cass with you. There was just something about it, Steve thought, that made a soft grin grow onto his lips…especially when you praised Cassie when she showed you the little ball of dough covered in sugar and cinnamon. 

It was Cassie’s bright smile too that made Steve think for a moment…where did you come from and how come you’re barely in his life now?

✧ ✧ ✧

“Enjoy!” you stated happily as you handed over what felt like the 100th bag of cookies from the faculty’s booth. The woman grinned at you before she handed the cookies to her son and began to take off, giving you time to add more bags of cookies onto the table. 

Beside you, Heidi was counting the money you made so far and placing the bills into a tin box. 

“These cookies are a hit, I’m glad you went with them- they’re super good too,” Heidi said as she picked up her half eaten cookie and shoved the rest into her mouth, “Yup, delicious. You have to make these for the Holiday office Christmas Party in December, god I think I’ll pay you.” 

That made you chuckle as you went around to fix the sign the other members had worked all weekend on that said ‘Front Office’ and had poorly drawn cookies all over it. 

As you did so, there was suddenly a burst of laughter from behind you. You lifted your head up, turning your head toward one of the booths that was across from yours, but more down the line. Women and their kids all surrounded this one table, so much that you were unable to see who’s table it was…that’s if you didn’t know because he’d been here early to set up along with you and others. 

Heidi leaned over the cookies, having heard the commotion too and she laughed out loud, “So, Steve Harrington baking was all it took to take that baker down a notch.” 

She was looking over at the other booth, the town’s baker having only a handful of customers while Steve’s booth was surrounded by a crowd who might as well been waving cash over their heads. It was almost comedic how the simple fact that Steve Harrington baked cookies rather than brought store bought ones caused such a commotion. 

He was standing behind the table handing out the bags of chocolate chip cookies while Cassie was sitting on a clear space on the table taking the cash with the help of one of the other parents working the booth. They were both wearing the matching cupcake aprons again, something that did not go unnoticed by the mom’s either. 

“These are absolutely fabulous, Steve,” you heard one of them compliment him, “It makes me wonder what other skills you’re hiding from us.” There was a giggle after that almost resembled one of a high school girl talking to the football captain and you were sure you could hear the eye roll of the woman’s husband somewhere around here. You laughed while shaking your head and fixed some of the cookie bags to look more presentable before placing more smaller samples onto the tray. 

At the booth, Steve was slightly overwhelmed but Cass was doing a good job keeping everyone at bay. 

“There’s a line!” she told the crowd, “One at a time please!”

Compliments continued to be thrown Steve’s way, and with flushed cheeks he was thanking them and being professional and handing them their bags when a woman asked him for the recipe. Steve looked up at her, and laughed nervously, “Well it’s not my recipe- I had a little- well a lot of help from a friend.” 

“A friend you say? I’d love to meet them and get the recipe then,” she said cheekily before she took the bags from him and moved on. Steve smiled at the next customer, but behind them was a parting of the crowd finally and Steve’s eyes caught you in front of your booth. 

You were holding the tray of apple cinnamon cookies, one of the husband’s of one of the women over here standing beside you as he tried one. He said something to you after, making you grin up at him in a friendly manner and Steve realized he hadn’t listened to a word the lady in front of him said. 

“Daddy! She said she wanted 2 bags!” Cassie tore him from his eyes on you just as your eyes found Steve’s. He cleared his throat lightly, smiling at the woman and grabbing two bags of cookies and holding it out for her. 

She thanked him, and Steve’s eyes found yours again, finding that you were looking at him already. You waved at him, and Steve smiled softly and waved back at you. 

From where you stood, Heidi had caught the small interaction between you and Steve, raising both of her brows with interest. Her eyes rested onto your face, recognizing the expression of warmth written all over your features, right down to your wide smile and eyes that seemed to have lit up. 

She leaned on the table, and hummed with pure interest. 

“So…you and Steve?” Heidi asked, and to you this question had seemingly come out of nowhere as you returned to the seat beside her in the shade. Though it was a cool autumn day, it was still pretty hot when you stood directly in the sun like you just were. 

“What about Steve?” you questioned her as you settled into your chair, Heidi shrugged. 

“Are you and him…getting to know each other more?” she asked you another question, and by now you were used to this, used to Heidi not getting to the point of something and speaking to you like everything that you talked about was gossip or something. You just stared at her, watching her eyebrows wiggle suggestively. 

“Heidi, please, we’re both adults here,” you said, wanting to beg her to stop talking like this and she could only giggle like a high schooler. 

“Oh come on, you can tell me.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” you said, and Heidi sighed at your stubbornness to admit anything. You chalked it up to maybe this town was so small that any gossip was the holy grail to her, or maybe the odd obsession every married woman seemed to have with Steve Harrington. It could be either, honestly. 

Still, you knew you were lying because maybe there was something to tell because afterall you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you like he did, if anyone’s ever made you laugh and smile so much. The thought of Steve made your stomach twist pleasantly, and your chest to warm up like your oven when you helped each other bake all of those cookies the mom’s were currently salivating over. 

Jokingly, you told yourself that if you looked at him and he was already looking at you, maybe there was something there, something that would be worth telling somebody else about. 

And when you snuck a glance, you were pleased to see that he was. Heat raised to your cheeks, and you allowed yourself this small moment of vindication, as silly as it sounded. 

“I’ll be damned,” Mrs. Abi’s voice broke you from your moment of warmth and you looked up to see her standing there with her arms resting on her waist as she stared at the crowd Steve’s booth brewed up, “I think we’ll all be getting raises next year, and all we had to do was get Mr. Harrington to bake a couple of cookies.” 

The joke made the other faculty at your booth including Heidi laugh, and another office member, who you distinctly remembered seeing go over once or twice, stated, “He had a lot of help I hear from somebody.” 

“Well, whoever convinced him and helped out- I’m grateful because look at this crowd,” Mrs. Abi said, still entirely impressed by how something as simple as Hawkins’ favorite Dad baking chocolate chip cookies could ring up this much business. 

You elected to stay quiet, dropping your eyes to the cookies before you as Mrs. Abi continued to admire the amount of people here. Still, you smiled to yourself, knowing that it was you and liking that you were the only one who knew, like those moments with Steve and Cassie were yours to keep and only yours. It made you feel special, in a way. 

Suddenly, somebody was tapping your arm. It captured your attention, and everyone else sitting at the booth’s attention. Everyone was pleasantly surprised to see it was Cassie Harrington, well mostly everyone as Cassie would visit you on occasion to give you part of her lunch. 

She held out a bag of cookies to you, and said, “My daddy said to give you these. They’re for you and you only!” 

You blinked, and took the bag of cookies from her. Cassie didn’t give you a moment to respond, flashing you a bright smile before she was turning and pushing her way through the crowd. You looked at the bag of brightly colored cookies.

There was a little note attached to the tie around the bag of cookies, different from the rest of the bags, in fact they were different from the cookies you spent hours helping him bake entirely. 

‘Thanks for the help. You deserve these :) - Steve’

The bag was filled with smaller, homemade M&M cookies, the colors of the candy vibrant against the cookie part. Did he seriously make these cookies for you? When did he have the time to do so? Did he make time? So many questions rang through your head and you had forgotten that you weren’t alone. 

In fact, the entire faculty, Mrs. Abi included, was just staring at you as you gawked at the bag of cookies Cassie had just given you in front of everyone. It seemed they had gotten their answer as to who helped Steve bake all those cookies. 

“Nothing to tell,” Heidi muttered beside you, repeating your words from before. You cleared your throat, and placed the cookies inside of your purse that was underneath your chair, trying not to let them see how the gesture was affecting you further.

And later, when you would take a bite out of one of the cookies, your thoughts were filled with Steve Harrington until you would go to bed that night and even then, he still plagued you in your dreams. You weren’t complaining though…not one bit. 

✧ ✧ ✧

If Steve was anything, it was self aware. He knew he wasn’t the most punctual when it came to any relationships outside of the one he had with his daughter, but with Halloween and then Cassie suddenly getting the flu, life had just been a hassle. 

He’d been meaning to call you again, or maybe visit you in the office (except he thought that would be odd if he didn’t have an excuse to be there other than he just wanted to see you) to ask if you enjoyed those cookies he and Cass had baked for you but then he also got sick while taking care of Cass. 

He wasn’t a six year old though, so he managed better than she did, but it did take him out for a day or so. When he thought about you, he tried to remind himself of your declaration that you weren’t a high maintenance friend, basically that you understand him vanishing for weeks on end, but that didn’t change the fact that he did feel bad that after basically a whole weekend spent together he kind of just vanished and relied on Cassie to stay interacting with you. 

The doctor’s note in his pocket came at a good moment, one that he had to deliver to the office himself so that her past few absences would be excused, and he thought that maybe you’d be keen on having some lunch with him today. 

Although, when he entered the school’s front office he was met with an empty desk. 

His eyes danced around the office, disappointment brewing in his chest that maybe you were out sick too or something until he heard you say his name. He snapped his head to the side, seeing that you were actually next to him, he just hadn’t seen you. 

“Oh, god I didn’t even see you,” Steve said, feeling stupid for not, but you just laughed and waved him off because it really wasn’t a big deal, “I have a doctor’s note for Cassie.” 

Steve dug his hand into the pocket of the sweats he was wearing, and scowled when he couldn’t find it, now afraid it had slipped out of his pocket outside on this very windy day, “Shit, I thought I did. Give me a second.” 

He wasn’t looking at you, but if he had he would’ve definitely noticed your suddenly flustered expression, and how you were desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but on his lower half. He dug his hands into the other pocket, pleased to feel the paper there instead. 

“Ah, there you are,” Steve muttered to himself, something Max might’ve said was very ‘dad’ of him to say. He held it out for you to take, and you did, walking over to your desk while Steve finally noticed that you were actually decorating the front part of the office with autumn leaves. 

Various colored leaves decorated the wall, meant to look like they were being blown in the wind, but there was a lot more on the floor. He wasn’t sure if that was part of the decor, not until he noticed there were a few pieces of tape missing leaves. 

“Oh,” Steve said, bending over to pick them up. He started to stick them to the wall for you without really thinking, but then the door was being opened again, causing a breeze to fly in so all the ones he had just stuck on had fallen again. 

He realized then that probably happened to you when he walked in, and he cringed, feeling bad about that. He looked over at you when he heard you ask the person, another parent, who had just walked in what you could help them with. Your eyes glanced over at Steve and he waved a leaf at you, catching the amusement to flash over your eyes as you looked back at the parent. 

“I unfortunately don’t have a copy of the permission slip, but they are going to be sent home with the students today…if not come back and I will be sure to have extra copies…” 

Your voice trailed off as you returned to typing on your computer, surely trying to continue inputting Cassie’s doctor’s note into the system. Meanwhile, Steve just waited and watched you, slightly intrigued with you working and realizing that you were just very busy too. 

After a moment, the parent had turned to leave, smiling at Steve as they pushed through the door, the wind causing more leaves to fall off the wall. Steve picked those up too, and when he turned back to you, he saw you were smiling with your eyes on the computer screen. 

“Are the fifth graders going to that museum out of town already?” Steve asked, having practically memorized the schedule they had all been handed at Back to School Night, the one with all the events on it (and your number) despite him needing only to worry about first grade events. He honestly couldn’t wait until Cass’s first field trip in the spring because he was going to be a chaperone. It would be her first field trip too.

“Yeah, at the end of the week,” you replied to him, eyes moving to the doctor’s note, “You don’t have to pick those up by the way…they keep falling anyways.”

He looked down at the leaves, then said, “Well I mean, leaves do tend to fall in fall.” He walked over to you, placing them onto the front of your desk as you continued to type away on the computer and you laughed lightly at his lame joke as you pressed enter on the keyboard with a loud clack!

“Alright, Cassie’s absences have been excused, is there anything else I could help you with, Steve?” you asked, finally looking at him. Steve thought, then shook his head. 

“Nope, well…I don’t need help, just have another question.” You tilted your head at him, urging him to ask you what he wanted, and he said with a soft clearing of throat, “Did you go to lunch already?” 

You seemed genuinely surprised by that question, eyes flashing to the clock on your desk before looking back at him and replying in a suddenly quiet voice, “Not yet, in about 20 minutes actually…why?” 

Steve leaned both hands on your desk, getting slightly closer to you, “Well I haven’t had lunch yet, Cass is still sick and Karen agreed to watch her while I run some errands, so…” he knocked on the wooden surface of your desk, almost nervously before he said, “Want to go get something to eat?” 

You said yes quite fast. 

That’s how Steve found himself with you in his car, meals done and low music playing on the radio as you two well…you just talked. 

You had asked him about Cassie, he told you she was doing much better, and then he was telling you about how his Halloween was. 

Cassie had decided, very last minute, that instead of being a regular fairy she wanted to actually be Tinkerbell. It wouldn’t have been a serious problem if the dress he got her was already green (it was blue), so he had to spend one of his entire lunch breaks finding a dress before he had to end up making it himself with a bunch of material from the only fabric store in Hawkins. 

“Wait a minute…you made her costume?” 

You were shocked, Steve could tell by the way you said it and stared at him with wide eyes and he felt a little embarrassed, “Yeah, took me two whole days. It was bad huh, you can be honest, Cass said she loved it, but I think she was just being nice- she doesn’t want to break her dad's heart.”

“Steve, she talked my ear off about how much she loved her costume,” you told him, genuine surprise still written all over your face, “Every time I learn something more about you the more I like you.” 

Your words made Steve pause for a second, and he turned his head over to you, watching as you took a sip of soda then grinned at him. 

Steve half-smiled at you as he moved to take a sip of his drink as well, “Did you not like me before or something? I really thought we had something with the apple picking, the baking…I even made you cookies, which…were they any good?” 

“Oh the cookies,” you said, your hand flying over your chest as you sighed, “They were delicious, thank you for that.” 

Steve smiled and nodded at you, and you added, “And I liked you before, just…now I like you more. You bake and you sew, and you love your daughter so much. What’s not to like?” 

You were looking at him softly, and Steve felt a bit flustered underneath your gaze. It didn’t feel like when the other women in town would compliment or praise him for what he thought was the bare minimum, where he felt as if they were nothing but empty praise. No, yours felt genuine.

“Well…I didn’t really bake until I met you, so…feel free to take credit for that quality,” he said, jokingly and you chuckled, “And I’m glad somebody thinks me being able to sew is good. Remember those kids I told you about? They break my leg about it all the time, especially Henderson.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, like me sewing is weirder than him building a whole radio when he was 13.”

“Wait he built a whole radio? Huh…”

Steve nodded, “Still shows off about it too, he told me one time what spectacular thing I did when I was 13 and I couldn’t say because I was already getting dates at that age.” 

His statement, as ridiculous and silly as it was, made you almost choke on what was left of your drink. He turned quickly to you as you coughed, and was worried until he heard cackling coming from you and saw your pretty smile again. 

You shifted in your spot, coughing lightly a few more times before you said, “And you’re funny? God, Steve.” 

His cheeks turned a slight pink, proud that he had made you laugh, but concerned with the fact that you had choked on your drink because of it. 

“Everyone except you and Cass would disagree with that statement, but it’s nice to hear every once in a while…” especially if it was the pretty city girl Steve was growing very fond of calling him funny, he didn’t say that part out loud though. Nope, that felt too forward in a lunch between friends even though it was incredibly true. 

Steve stayed staring at you, before he asked what it was that you did at 13, because he realized he’d been talking about himself the entire time and he wanted to know more about you, of course, having really gotten a few glimpses into your life. You hummed in thought. 

“I wasn’t building radios, definitely not getting dates like you Mr. Popular,” you teased, then continued to think with your face scrunched up before you hummed again, and finally said, “I was really big on roller disco.” 

“Wait…wait seriously?” 

Out of all the things Steve might’ve thought, you liking roller disco had not been one of them, and he found it cute the way you became flustered now as you nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, well…just disco in general, I was home alone a lot with nothing to do so I just learned a lot dance moves, and the roller rink was down the block, I was really good…god I can’t believe I’m admitting this to somebody,” you said, clearly embarrassed but Steve didn’t think it was something you should be embarrassed about and felt bad if he was making you think he was judging you in any way. 

“That’s pretty…I honestly would’ve never guessed it,” Steve decided on saying, before he thought of something, “Now that I think of it…Cassie’s music taste has been a bit disco-y lately ever since we were at your place baking…”

This made you laugh in disbelief.

“No way,” you said with a shake of your head and Steve nodded, “That’s funny, I’m a little less embarrassed now.”

“Yeah…god now I know who the culprit is,” he laughed, “Don’t be embarrassed…though how long was that your interest though? I just want to know, I’ve never met a disco dancer before.” He grinned cheekily at the title he’d given and you scoffed, though your eyes held warmth in them still.

“Oh the interest definitely went past 13, up until my college years really, I was in a club and everything, it was really the only fun thing I did.” 

Steve laughed with the shake of his head, still shocked by this information. So, you were a disco girl…he stupidly wondered if you two might’ve been friends if you knew each other in High School, but he quickly shut that down, remembering how he actually was in high school and knew you wouldn’t be friends with him most likely.

What mattered really was that he knew you now, and you knew him now, and like what you had told him…the more he was getting to know you really, the more he was liking you…or maybe it was something deeper with how his stomach churned pleasantly being in this car with you on this windy, fall afternoon just talking, making you laugh joyfully…he remembered having a lot of dates that went exactly like this back in High School, though it would be night time or you both would’ve been half way to Skull Rock by now. 

Still, it felt nice sitting here with you, it felt nice when you were with him and Cass apple-picking too, and at your place as well, baking cookies and enjoying each other’s company. 

All good things must come to an end though, and Steve hated how time flew by when you were having a good time, but you had to get back to work and Steve had to grocery shop for the week then go pick up Cassie from Karen Wheeler’s house. You still talked though as he drove you back to the school, your elbow leaning on the car’s door, hand resting above your head as you spoke and laughed. 

He stopped the car in front of the office, and you thanked him for a fun lunch, and Steve’s eyes had caught the post for the food pantry event the Hawkins School District were holding for Thanksgiving the following week. His eyes rested on the poorly drawn turkey and an idea flashed in his mind. 

“Hey, sorry, one last question,” Steve called to you before you could climb fully out of his car. You turned to him with a curious look, and he said, “What are you doing for Thanksgiving this year?”

“Nothing, I don’t really celebrate it,” you told him that pretty fast, indicating that someone has probably asked you before and that was how you answered.

Steve began to absent-mindly run his hands over the steering wheel, deciding just to ask you if you wanted to join him and Cassie. 

“If you’re up for it, me and Cass join the Henderson family. It’s just…them too, Dustin and his mom. I know she’ll enjoy having an extra person there.” 

You were quiet for a bit, eyes moving to his moving hands, and Steve was about to tell you that you didn’t have to if you didn’t want to, but you were speaking before he could even open his mouth. 

“That sounds fun actually…I guess that means I’m going to meet the little genius who built a whole radio at 13,” you said, referring to the prior conversation. Steve was grinning now, relieved and happy that you said yes and he chuckled and replied, “Yeah, honestly, I think you’d like him. He’s a cool kid.” 

“Alright, guess I’ll be seeing you sooner than I thought,” you said cheekily, and Steve scoffed at you but smiled afterwards. 

With a promise to call you sometime before then to give you the address, Steve was off to the market with butterflies fluttering in his stomach the entire time and when he ran into some familiar faces, they wondered what had him so joyful.

✧ ✧ ✧

You had made the joke to yourself that you felt like Steve when he tried to bring store bought cookies to the bakesale before you got your hands on him and convinced him to let you help him bake. The reason for this was because you had run out of time to make anything, but didn’t want to show up empty handed so you bought a pumpkin pie, and then a cheese tray and showed up just on time at the Henderson home; nothing homemade like you initially wanted but truth be told you didn’t really know how to make any traditional Thanksgiving supper.

They were already there, Steve’s car parked in front of yours, and the door was open, so you poked your head inside, looking around for anyone familiar…basically just Steve and Cassie, but instead you had been met with a young couple sitting on the couch. The girl was shorter, dark hair pulled back in a low ponytail with wispy bangs framing her face, and the boy, well you could only see his curly hair since his back was to you as they seemed to be in the middle of a conversation. 

“Oh Dusty Bun, latin has never been your strong suit and it’s okay to admit it,” the girl told the boy, and he huffed in response, “A genius can’t be good at everything.” 

“That’s not true,” ‘Dusty-bun’ replied to her, “You’re good at everything.” 

And she smiled, clearly keen on the compliment. You entered the house a little more, ready to announce your arrival when the girl saw you first. Your eyes locked with each other’s and she blinked a few times before saying, “Oh, hi?”

The boy snapped his head around quickly, blue eyes finding yours instantly, and when he didn’t recognize you in the span of a second he was saying, “Uh, sorry, I think you’re at the wrong house.”

You furrowed your brows, knowing for sure that wasn’t true because you recognized Steve’s car, and you said, assuming Dusty Bun was a nickname for Dustin, “Oh, I don’t think I am, you’re Dustin Henderson, right?” 

He nodded at you, and you told him your name and ended with, “Steve invited me, he probably just forgot to tell you.”

This seemed to genuinely surprise Dustin, both of his eyebrows raising in disbelief as he looked at you, and then all he could say was, “Wait- wait- are you telling me Steve invited you?” 

“Hey, don’t be rude,” the girl said, slightly tapping Dustin’s arm but he shrugged her off as he said he wasn’t being rude before he said, “I’m just surprised! Steve invited a girl to have dinner with us, is that not insane to you?” 

The girl opened her mouth to say something, maybe along the lines of trying to defend Steve before it went slack, and she replied, “...I admit it is a little surprising considering…well you know.” 

You stared at them, wondering what that even meant but decided not to question that in favor of asking awkwardly if they could just find Steve for you and tell him you’ve arrived. Dustin gave you another nod, and you expected him to get up rather than just turning his head and shouting the last thing you expected for him to shout,  “Hey Steve! Your girlfriend’s here! Why didn’t you tell me you had one!”

Following Dustin’s yell there was a crash from a room to the right of you, then a feminine shout of surprise followed by the familiar voice of Steve saying, “My bad! I’ll clean that up- don’t worry-” And then, Steve was in the room. He was wearing a nice polo shirt that was tight around his arms, and chest, over that was the same cupcake apron that matched Cassie’s. You supposed he was getting a lot of use out of it since buying it. 

There was also pink dusted on his cheeks as he told Dustin, “I can’t believe you just shouted that- she’s not my girlfriend, Henderson. Way to make it awkward- and hi, you’re here.” He was looking at you when he said that, his pretty brown eyes resting on you, and a smile, more shy than usual because of Dustin’s assumption, tugging at his lips. 

“You said 4,” you told Steve, a smile crawling its way onto your lips too. You stayed smiling at each other for a beat or two before you lifted the items you bought and asked, “So, where can I put these?” 

Steve waved you over toward him, “Right this way actually here-” He held his hands out, taking the pumpkin pie and cheese platter off of your hands, and you felt his fingers lightly drag against yours. He was really warm, which made sense as the kitchen you followed him into was drastically warmer than the living space and the colder fall temperature outside. 

“Sorry about Dustin, I hope he didn't make you uncomfortable,” Steve said, apologizing on his behalf but you could only wave that off with a shake of your head. 

“In his shoes, I’d probably think so too,” you admitted before you laughed nervously, afraid that had come off weird, but Steve let out a breathless laugh then nodded in agreement with you. 

There was a woman in the kitchen, Claudia Henderson you presumed, and she was wiping down whatever Steve had dropped. His face fell and he said, “You didn’t have to do that-” 

“It’s no problem, Steve! It wasn’t that bad of a spill,” she told him as she tossed the paper towel pieces she used into the trash, and Steve looked like he was going to say something else when her eyes landed on you and she was saying, “Is this her, Steve? Wow, aren’t you the pretty one?” 

You felt your cheek heats up, not expecting the compliment, and Steve’s eyes widened as she continued to say, “I’m so glad he’s finally found someone else, you know it was so hard-” 

“Wait, no it’s not-” 

“I’m just his friend,” you cut Steve off, Claudia paused before her expression turned shocked and then regretful. Her hands even flew over her mouth like she’d just cursed at you in an accident or something.  

“Oh, oh I’m sorry, I just assumed when he told me he was inviting a woman over that meant-” she gestured between you two before she laughed nervously, “Either way, I’m glad he’s invited a friend, thank you for joining us.” 

Her smile was kind, and despite the confusion from everyone you’ve encountered so far, you felt at ease standing in this pleasant smelling kitchen, and you said, “No thank you for having me! Now that I’m here, is there anything I can do to help?” 

Your eyes danced around the kitchen now, having never seen a kitchen so full with food before and you felt something odd in your chest, something you couldn’t quite describe, but Claudia’s claim that you didn’t have to make you ignore it and set it aside. 

“I pulled a Steve and brought only store bought items, please let me at least do something,” you said, poking at Steve and he huffed beside you. 

“Hey, you say that like there’s something wrong with that,” Steve said as he placed the pumpkin pie on what looked like the dessert portion of the kitchen counter, and placed the cheese platter onto a table with other appetizers to snack on before dinner. 

He was actually opening it before throwing a cube of cheddar cheddar and a ritz cracker into his mouth. 

Claudia had laughed at you both before saying that if you weren’t going to take no for an answer you could help prepare the ham. Your eyes landed on the thick piece of ham resting in a pan as you shrugged off the coat you were wearing to reveal a nice burgundy turtleneck underneath.

That feeling started to linger over you again as you realized you didn’t know what to even start with, having never prepared or baked a ham before- not even on Christmas when it appeared to be the most popular. Claudia didn’t seem to take notice of your sudden hesitation, but Steve did. 

He was back beside you and he said, “I’ll help, she’s taught me everything I know.” 

Claudia hummed, as if proud of her teaching Steve how to prepare a ham, and you gave him a curt nod before you went to wash your hands and Steve grabbed the things from a bag he must’ve brought of the things he would need. 

As you started to pour pineapple juice into a measuring cup per Steve’s orders, you suddenly realized there was somebody missing, a vital person, and you said, “Wait a minute- where’s Cassie?” 

Like you managed to summon the girl with the utter of her name, Dustin was entering the kitchen holding Cassie and grunting as he claimed she was heavy. He didn’t put her down though, not when she was very clearly half-awake, her eyes squinted and various strands poking out of her french-braided hair. 

She still managed to ask, “Is the food ready, yet?” 

Steve was walking toward Dustin, taking her from him, and as he pushed a few strands of her hair out of her face he said, “Not yet, sleepyhead, in about an hour, but look who’s here.” 

He turned around, and Cassie looked very closely at everyone in the room before she finally realized there was an extra person. Her being on the verge of falling asleep had vanished the moment she saw you, and you waved both hands at her eagerly. 

“I was waiting for you! I thought my daddy lied about you coming!” Cassie said, quite loudly. You laughed, head tilting back slightly. 

“Why do you keep thinking that I’m lying? I never lie to you,” Steve said with a shake of his head, and Cassie turned to look at her dad as he placed her hair behind her ear. 

“You said the food will be ready when I wake up, but it’s not,” she stated. 

“Ha!” Dustin laughed from where he stood next to the cheese platter you had brought, placing pieces of it onto a decorative plastic plate, “She got you there.” 

Steve gave him a look, but sighed as he said, “Yeah she did…how about you go and play with Dustin and Suzy and then it’ll be done.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot I wanted to give her a lot of my old edition D&D books, and other old toys,” Dustin said, turning around to look at Steve and Cassie.

“Dude, come on…” 

“What? They’re Steve of Approved, plus if I start teaching her now, she’ll definitely keep the Hellfire Club going when she gets to high school, and that’s important,” Dustin said, clearly having a plan, and Steve could only shake his head as Cassie seemed excited about the word Hellfire and club. 

“Hellfire Club?” you asked, and all eyes turned to you. 

“Oh, it’s a Dungeon and Dragons club, do you play?” Dustin asked you, and you shook your head. 

“No, but…I’ve always wanted to, just never got the chance,” you admitted, remembering there being a club like when you were in high school too and wondering how one might play the roleplaying game, “It looks fun though, I’d like to learn one day.”

Dustin snapped his fingers, “See, that already makes you cooler than Steve” 

“Am I just going to be made fun of the entire time? Well yeah, that’s how I know it’s Thanksgiving,” Steve answered his own question with a scoff, making you smile sheepishly at him until he was smiling again as he said, “I’ve played a few times, not really my thing, but…I mean if you want to play I know a guy who could teach you. He’s a bit insane, but if I’m there you’ll be fine.” 

“Oh so you’re ‘not girlfriend’ is interested in playing and suddenly you’re willing to hang out with Eddie and playing too?” 

Dustin was giving Steve a knowing look, one of which had you suppressing a grin, especially when you saw Steve’s eyes get wide with shock that he’d say. He was probably regretting inviting you now.

“How is Eddie anyway? I haven’t seen him around in a while,” Claudia chimed in before Steve could properly respond and Dustin replied, “He’s always out of town lately, I know because I called before I even got here to see if he wanted to start planning a campaign for us to play.” 

Claudia hummed in response, and you watched Steve give Dustin a look, one of which Dustin shrugged at him before smiling menacingly. 

“Come on, Cass, let’s go,” Dustin said, and Steve placed Cassie down. She eagerly followed after Dustin, waving a good-bye to you before disappearing back into the living room. 

Steve was back by your side, helping you with the ham again and he muttered, “Sorry again.” 

In all honesty you weren’t bothered by the comments, Steve actually seemed more bothered than you were, his cheeks haven’t stopped being flushed since they started. You gently grasped his forearm, making him look at you. 

“Stop apologizing, I can handle being mistaken for your girlfriend,” you said teasingly, to which Steve turned even more pink, “Plus, I’m having a good time, so let’s finish this ham before Cass comes back asking why it isn’t ready yet.” 

Steve laughed and agreed with you as you worked together to get it done. 

Another hour had passed, you were more comfortable, and that weird feeling in your stomach had started to gently subside, up until dinner itself was ready to be served. Dustin, Suzy, and Cass were more than happy to set the table, then as you sat having the said dinner, you stayed quiet the whole time just watching. 

Steve was sitting at the end of the table, Claudia at the other end, Dustin and Suzy were sitting across from you, and you were sitting next to Cassie, just a seat away from where Steve was sitting. It was, what you believed to be, your first big family dinner. 

As you’ve said, it was really only you and your dad growing up, and when you told Steve you never celebrated when he first invited you, you meant it. Your dad and you would go out to eat the following day, but it was still just the two of you and as you watched them interact, laughing and teasing each other, retelling stories you’ve never heard before, and Dustin going on about how his year at University was going, you realized that empty feeling you were feeling was one you always tended to feel around the holidays. 

Maybe you were feeling it a little bit more since you really had no family left, and seeing them just made you think about it more, made you think about how lonely you actually felt, a loneliness you’ve always felt. 

After dinner, Claudia had offered to make cocoa and coffee for everyone as you let your stomachs settle before dessert and everyone had agreed. She shooed you all out of the kitchen though, keen on letting you guys enjoy each other’s company so you were gathered in the living room, the television playing and Dustin continuing his D&D lesson for Cassie, and you actually. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling though, and had excused yourself for a bit. You hadn’t noticed that Steve wasn’t even in the room when you snuck outside to gather yourself. 

Steve had actually gone to the bathroom, mostly to fix his hair and when he came back, the living room was actually just empty. He figured the beverages were ready and waltzed into the kitchen, seeing that he was right. 

Suzy was helping Claudia pour them into various mugs and Dustin and Cassie were standing by the dessert counter, taking advantage of their backs being turned to them. 

“What are you doing?” Steve questioned as he walked closer. They both looked at Steve with wide eyes, their lips covered in crumbs of one of the apple pastries Claudia had made. 

Dustin wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said, “We’re checking it for poison, duh.” 

Steve’s face deadpanned, having heard that just weeks before from Cassie herself. Deciding it really wasn’t that big a deal, Steve looked around the kitchen, trying to find you, but only seeing the people he originally saw when he first walked in. He asked where you went, and Cassie, with a mouth full of pastry, told him that you had gone outside and Dustin backed her up.

So, Steve went outside too, not without taking two mugs of coffee; one for you and one for him. 

You were sitting on the bench, arms crossed over your chest and staring at nothing in deep thought. You didn’t seem to hear Steve coming outside, not until he cleared his throat and held the mug out for you to take. You visibly snapped out of your thoughts and turned to look at the mug then at Steve, muttering a soft thank you as you took it from him. 

“I just needed a bit of air,” you told him as you held the mug with both hands, enjoying the warmth it radiated.

Steve nodded, and took a sip of his before he sat down beside you, guessing what it was that was bothering you because he had been in the same position as you before. He just kind of sensed it and recognized it, especially when he observed how quiet you were during dinner.

“I know it’s overwhelming,” Steve suddenly said, “Sorry, I just assumed, and maybe I should’ve…I don’t know eased you better into having a big family dinner like this.” 

You blinked, and looked at him. He looked thoughtful as he continued to speak. 

“I’ve mentioned my oh so great parents once or twice, but…yeah I never had any of this,” Steve gestured around with his mug, “Not until I was well out of high school, not until Cassie was born really…I had her mom, but that’s…” he made a face at that, and you tilted your head, this being the first time he’s mentioned her in any context and you thought maybe the comments of surprise Steve invited somebody had to do with her.

“Anyway though, I get it- I was overwhelmed the first time too, and I still kind of am- but knowing that I can give Cassie these experiences I didn’t have growing up makes it worth it,” he finished with a sip of his coffee, eyes soft as he too stared at nothing, thinking of Cassie back inside enjoying the Holiday with the Henderson family. 

You didn’t have a daughter, not like Steve, but you could imagine if you did you would try your best to do the same. It made your heart swell with how much of a genuinely good person and dad he was, and you just wondered what more this guy could do that would make you like him even more. 

“It feels like something I never knew I needed,” you said, laughing weakly and Steve joined you with that weak laugh. 

“Oh yeah, it feels weird huh…but also good.” 

“Yeah…yeah it feels really good,” you agreed, turning your body toward him. 

Steve returned your gaze, seeing something in it that made him swallow very thickly. It had been a while, yes, but when Steve said he was getting dates at 13 he meant it. He knew what it was like when someone liked him, it was almost like second nature and he prided himself once in being able to know when the right time was to kiss a woman. 

He called it ‘electricity.’ Stupid to say as an adult, but true when he was a high schooler. There was electricity between you, and with a soft flutter of your eyelashes, Steve knew they were ‘kiss me’ eyes.

And so, he was slowly starting to lean in…catching your lips parting and your eyes flickering down to his lips. You were leaning in too, but then, the door was being slammed open. 

“We’re having pie now, come on!” Cassie called, poking her head out the door, startling you and Steve. He sucked in a tight breath, leaning away from you as he looked at Cassie who remained in her place, just staring at the both of you like she knew something you both didn’t or something. 

“We’ll be in right now,” Steve told her, and she slowly disappeared back into the house, making you laugh. Steve turned back to you, trying to steady his breath at what almost happened out here and feeling guilty for whatever reason.

He wondered what you were thinking, but you were already moving to stand and he tilted his head upward to look at you, trying to see if he could read you, but you didn’t really give him a chance. You rather smiled at him like always, not giving any sign that you knew he was going to kiss you, which relieved him…but also disappointed him. Did he imagine you leaning in too? Was he being a creep?

If he was, you weren’t acting like it and rather held your hand out and said, “Well, let’s go enjoy some dessert.” 

The rest of the night was filled with more fun, and Steve liked how you were looking less melancholy, talking with Suzy and Dustin (You did actually bring the radio up and Dustin would not shut up). Steve remained on the couch, Cassie laying on it with her head resting on his lap and he figured they should head home soon when he noticed Cassie was actually falling asleep. 

Then, you were standing up, announcing that it was late and you should go. Steve gently moved Cassie, telling her that you were leaving and she opened her sleepy eyes to say bye to you before shutting them again. 

You told everyone a good night, thanking them for letting you join them, and then Steve walked you out. It was on the porch, you turned to Steve and leaned in to give you a chaste on the cheek, catching Steve off guard. 

“Thank you for everything Steve,” you told him, the tone of your voice very soft that Steve almost didn’t hear you over the fasting beating of his own heart from the feeling of your lips touching his cheek, even if it was just for less than a second. 

“You’re…you’re welcome,” he said, voice breathless. You stepped backwards, telling him good night and Steve watched you, a million thoughts running through his mind until he noticed you snap your fingers. Steve furrowed his brows, wondering why you did that before you were leaning into your car and grabbing a paper bag. 

Then, you were walking back to him, and held it out for him to take. 

“What’s this?” Steve asked you as he took it. 

“Just a gift for Cassie,” you told him, looking between him and the bag almost eagerly.

Steve looked into the paper bag, having to squint his eyes to see what it was. When he realized what he was looking at, his eyes widened and he was looking at you. There was a walk-man in there.

“Is this- wait- you didn’t buy this did you?” 

“No!” you said, “It was actually mine, but I never use it.” 

Steve’s gaze remained on yours, jaw slightly agape at the gift you’d just given him to give to Cassie, “Are you…sure?” 

You were nodding, “Yeah, it just sort of sits in my dresser and I know Cassie will use it all the time. Oh, I even…” You reached out, digging into the bag for a moment before you wrapped your hands around what you were looking for, “I made this for her, since you said she was enjoying disco lately I thought I might as well introduce her to my favorite ones and others too I think you might enjoy.” 

Steve looked at the mixtape in your hands, and those butterflies went insane in his stomach, actually rising up into his extremely warm chest. He thought maybe he was feeling light headed by your incredibly nice gesture, Cassie was going to be so damn happy. 

“You might want to listen to it first,” you continued after Steve was still silently staring at you, “You know…make sure it gets a Steve of Approval.” 

That made him laugh, the disbelief leaving his face for amusement before his expression was warm again as he said, “No…no I trust you…god thank you so much, she’s going to be happy.” 

You were nodding again, dropping the tape back into the bag and putting your hands into your coat pockets, “So I guess I’ll see you soon?” 

Steve held the bag against him, and he nodded, “Yeah, yeah see you soon.” 

And then, you were off. 

Steve stayed standing there, up until you were pulling out of the driveway and waving at him from your car.

“...fuck,” Steve cursed at himself for some reason, but saying it just felt right and necessary. He liked you, a lot, and he hadn’t felt this way in such a long time. And because of that…Steve wasn’t quite sure how he was going to proceed with this, or if he should considering his luck with women in the past.

Yet, as he watched your car disappear and felt this pleasant buzz in his mind with thoughts full of you…he knew that he should. The only thing was…he hoped to god he would see you soon. 

[melodysmo]

“Thanks for inviting me here.” Melody thanked, as Ferdie placed their pastries against the table before taking a seat across from her. They were sitting by the window to a favorite spot of theirs— a simple yet charming looking bakery that sold one of her favorite pastries— Maple apple upside down cake. Not the most unique of desserts and she’s definitely had her fair share of many throughout the years, from multiple establishments at that. But this place in particular had the best recipe of all, and ever since discovering it back when the two of them were in the beginning years of high school, the pair has made it a point to stop by at least once throughout the month. But of course once they had gotten older and Ferdie moved away to attend college in England, while Melody’s molding career started to sky rocket, visiting this place became much scarce. But now that the two of them were once again living within Destiny Isle, it felt nice to potentially start up this tradition with him. Besides, she quite missed spending time with the brunette, and even after being back home for a few weeks now, the two hadn’t gotten the chance to spend any of it until this very moment.

Noticing that he had bought the model her favorite pastry, a bright smile appeared on Melody’s face. “You remembered!” She beamed, reaching over for her dessert fork. She wanted to dig right in, having craved the apple pastry for so long now, but the ravenette held off as she once again glanced back at her friend. “Outside of this quality time together, what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden invite?” She inquired, remembering how the text she received from Ferdie was stated to be urgent on what he had to tell her. And in that same matter, there was something she wanted to tell him too. After the past night she’s had involving a certain ex of her own twin sister and even the realization of this past morning— Ferdie felt like the best person she needed to speak to. But first, his news. “You mentored it was important?” ( @ferdiefields )

[castielsprostate]

WAIT WAIT WAIT.!!!! so edward bakes cakes and treats for garth right??? do you think garth makes edward like, blood pudding or something?????????????????? like in a heartshape????????/

OH MY GOD YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!!!!! do. do you think it's.. it's his own blood? like he just. hes a dentist, he has tools. i can probably draw blood, right? what if he made it with his own blood 🥺🥺🥺

my immediate thought is the concept of the taylor swift blank space cake!!!!! but he fills it with his own blood pudding🥺🥺🥺

And the thing is, Garth loved to bake and cook. He was very specific and particular in the ingredients he used, he had often spent hours researching what the best sorts of flour were for different types of bread, cakes and cookies or what different types of sugar do. When his college girlfriend, Bess, had gone through his laptop's internet search history she was fully prepared to find porn- not cooking websites.

Each site was a different recipe, ranging from simple toast dishes to salmon wellingtons and blueberry lemon key pies, mentioning spices she'd never even heard of and cooking utensils she'd never even seen. Bess had known Garth could cook, experienced it herself even, but this, this was beyond her imagination- especially considering the 74 tabs of recipes open in his browser.

(read more because this got. LONG)

So yes, Garth loved to cook- and bake. It was his main love language, even, one which he practiced with such care and consideration he'd often tune recipes to those he was cooking for. Like Bess' favourite pasta dish, a light lemon chicken with a hefty white alfredo sauce and spinach, he'd make for her birthday or Dean's favourite pie, crumbly and juicy apple with a hint of honey and vanilla, he'd always give as a thank you.

But those were all humans, well, mostly humans. Even after Bess had turned, she could never turn down her favourite pasta prepared exactly to her tastes. So rather, he had never made anything for anyone non-human that he hadn't known before- though Benny had eaten a piece of the cherry blossom pie that one time- he'd also been quick to expel it again.

But in walked Edward. All shrouded in mystery and . So Garth needed a peculiar dish for a very, very peculiar man. A superfluous challenge but man, did Garth love a challenge.

He plucked a few books he thought could prove useful from the modest shelf in his living room. Most of them were copies of Bobby's, hand bound on weekends he could squeeze it in during his dental program. Two of the books he grabbed had come from Carlisle Cullen, one of Garth's attendants during his residency rotations.

He waddled his way back into the kitchen, dropping the books onto the small island counters. Garth had some basic knowledge on vampires, for one that they could eat human food, but they'd have to expel it, mostly willingly as Benny had said. Other than that, he had come up empty.

He started to flip pages, indexing to the 'vampire' chapters. Much was the same, basic anatomical facts, how to kill a vamp, the weaknesses and strengths, but nothing useful. Sure, there were paragraphs filled with how a vampire feeds and drains- not nothing about how a vampire eats.

What started as a simple research sesh, had quickly turned into hours of dead ends and loose threads. Garth groaned, a headache blooming at his edges. He needed help. He needed someone with a greater arsenal of lore anyone's ever known and knew exactly where to find it in and instant. Someone that would leave no stone unturned and no leaf thoroughly examined- and he knew exactly who to call.

With a sigh hanging at the tip of his tongue he pressed the number saved under '🩸📚🤪🔪🫎', impatiently waiting as the ringing filled his kitchen, tapping his fingers on the wooden table.

It took three full rings before,

"Hey, Garth- why are you calling at... eleven AM?" the man that answered on the other side sounded a little far away, both physically and mentally, the sound of something Garth couldn't immediately make out was ringing in the background.

"Hiya Sam!" Garth chirped, despite his earlier annoyance it felt good to hear Sam's voice again, it'd been too long, really, "I was researching, er, something but I couldn't find anything conclusive,"

"Uhm, give me a moment-" Garth couldn't really make out the rest from what Sam was saying, the only bits being 'I told you to not-' also 'no, Dean-" and "he set the kitchen- fire-". Most of it was unintelligible, but he could fill in the blanks easily enough.

Garth skimmed some more of the pages he'd pulled out as the grumbling on the other side continued

"Okay, what do you need exactly?" the background noise had mostly faded, replaced by the occasional soft footstep of what Garth assumed to be Sam's.

"I'm-" Garth paused. He hadn't actually thought this far ahead, he hadn't even really thought this through at all when the realisation of what he was doing hit.

He was calling Sam Winchester, a fellow hunter not known for his kindness towards monsters and a disturbingly impressive kill count, on what a vampire would be able to eat.

Love made blind, or something like that.

"Garth?" Sam's voice boomed, "are you still there?"

Another beat of silence before a meek "yes," sounded with an added, "I'm just- figuring out how to word this without it sounding, hm, weird?"

"Hit me, I've heard worse,"

"Alright," Garth sighed, quickly tacking on, "what do you know about vampires and eating human food?"

Garth had predicted a silence, a long, achingly pressing beat of silence to befall upon them as Sam Winchester would study his words and grind them to a pulp in his head trying to make any sort of sense out of it.

He hadn't predicted the immediate hostility of, "Garth-" there was fight laced in Sam's tone, a cold lilt edging along.

"Sam, I- please? He's- he's a good one, and you know I can handle myself," Garth was rambling, his arms flailing, "and truthfully, I was skeptical at first as well but-" Garth hesitated, his heart pounding in his throat as the other side was deathly silent, "it's just a thank you, Sam,"

It was silent for a second too long, Garth felt his neck heating, his cheeks burning before a loud and loaded sigh rung through the air.

"Right, so," Sam grumbled, the slices of pages turning filling the dead air, "it says here- hold on-" a rattle and a fuss later, the man sighed, "right, vampires can usually hold their food, it gets rejected later, blah blah, hm- alright, it says here that 'if it's interlaced with blood the vamp will be able to hold it down and process it like regular blood'- there's nothing else except a few doodles of vampires eating,"

Garth nodded absentmindedly, knowing full well Sam wasn't able to see him, as he mulled over the words.

"So, I just- add blood? How much of it?"

Sam huffed a laugh, "This isn't a cookbook, man, I don't have measurements for you,"

"Okie dokie," Garth rubbed his temples between his thumb and index fingers, "well, thank you, Sam, I think I can actually get somewhere now,"

"Call us if- you know, just call us, yeah?"

"I will, tomorrow," Garth quickly added, "don't breathe a word of this to Dean,"

Sam was slow to agree, but did so in the end, something Garth was incredibly grateful for. He didn't need Dean to pester him about this or worse- show up and 'handle it' himself.

They gave their farewells, with a promise on Garth's end to call to say he was either alive or a cry for help, and a promise for Sam to keep quiet to his brother.

Garth allowed himself a moment of silence, staring at the books and papers in front of him before scooting his chair back and scavenging his home for whatever he had. He had needles around somewhere to practice injecting anesthetic to his dental patients, and he should have some sort of a tube to connect to it.

He grabbed some other things during his hunt, some bandages and a few vials, alcohol. The basics. His heart thumped in his throat as he put everything down on the counter, ranked from first to last needed.

He was doing this. Actually, really doing this. Garth gingerly grabbed the needle, denying himself the second thoughts niggling at the back of his mind, hissing as he slid it under his skin and into his brachial artery.

He drew three vials, filled to the brim with his blood.

He took a deep breath, setting them down next to the flour and sugar, and went to work. Carefully writing each step of the 'recipe' he winged down, next to every precisely weighed ingredient and where to acquire it.

His night went on with adrenaline buzzing in his veins.

Garth let out a grunt, wiping his forehead with a satisfied smirk lining the quirks of his mouth. The kitchen was surprisingly spotless- cleaning up along the way really was one of his most prized skills.

The sweet he baked sat proudly on the counter as he snapped a quick picture to send in the groupchat, and one for his baking Instagram, and one to print out for his booklet of personalised recipes he'd collected over the years.

With a sigh he began to clean the last out of place pans, carefully placing the cake in the refrigerator and wiping down the counters one last time before retreating upstairs.

It was morning, Garth thought it was at least, meaning he powered through the night without a second thought, and Edward wouldn't be over for another solid few hours.

So he took a nap, a well deserved and very much needed nap.

"I made you something," Garth fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, "I researched a bit, even called someone with more knowledge about it,"

Edward eyed the man in front of him, how his jumper had a spot of white dust clinging to it, how his hair was slightly disheveled and unruly and how the rims around his fingernails were puffy and pink. He looked homely, utterly exhausted, but oh so sweet- like a drop of fresh honeydew, intoxicatingly addictive.

"It's," Garth gestured towards the small kitchen table, just below the south baywindow. He'd gotten some fresh flowers from his garden after his nap, lavenders- Edward's favourite- and even replaced the runner with a lilac floral trim white one, matching the colours of the vase, "not much, really, but I wanted to, well,"

A simple white cake sat atop a cutting board, heart shaped with perfectly imperfect piping lining the top and bottom edges. A black hilted knife laid next to it, glinting under the LED light kitchen light.

Garth pulled the hem of his jumper, the details that felt out of place sticking out like a sore thumb.

But Edward didn't seem to care about the creased table cloth, or the skewed chairs- his gaze was steadfast on the man in front of him, making Garth squirm.

"Go ahead,"

Edward took it as permission, almost, and grabbed the knife, raising it slowly, then down all at once, Garth's reflection getting caught as the knife plunged deep into the cake. You couldn't see it immediately, but you'd know- the scent of iron penetrating your very being as the thick, dark liquid oozed out little by little.

Garth really regretted putting down a white runner now.

"Is it- I didn't know where to get blood on short notice," Garth bit back his embarrassment, barely, as he replayed the events of the night before. Researching, calling Sam of all people, drawing his own blood like a sacrament. Was he losing it, he wondered, ghosting his fingers over his arm.

Edward's expression was unreadable, his eyes trailing the drips of blood. Garth bobbed on the balls of his feet, his fingernails softly digging into jis flesh as he carefully watched the vampire's every little twitch and stir. The crease on Edward's forehead smoothed over ever so slightly, barely a hint of it happening if it wasn't for the few millimetres his eyebrow dropped.

"Thank you," Edward said, the quirk of his mouth ticking up, "you don't comprehend what you just gave me,"

And that's when Garth Fitzgerald IV, a shoddy half edged werewolf, knew that he would give anything for and to Edward Cullen, a bloodthirsty, ice cold vampire. His home, his blood- his own heart freshly carved out of his brittle chest by his own hands and serve it on a platter.

[robbybirdy]

72. Baking therapy on a budget Ft. Genshin Characters: Yanfei- Almond Apple Bread

Hello, every birdy. Today we are going to make something that is become one of my favorite things to do. Bread baking. Today’s recipe is a combination between Betty Crocker’s White Bread Recipe and the Sweet Roll Recipe. And to that, I added some apples and almonds. 

Yanfei is a lawyer from Liyue. She is the character that I choose for this recipe. Her favorite food is anything with tofu in it. Obviously, right now, I don’t have any access to tofu. And I realize that Yeast Bread and Tofu are not exactly the same. But, in a sense, they are (somehow). I mean they both soak up flavors. 

 For this recipe you will need:

2 packets active dry yeast

¾ cup warm water (105 to 115℉)

2 cups lukewarm milk (scalded then cooled)

1/3 cup sugar

1 egg

3 tablespoons shortening 

1 tablespoon salt 

7 to 8 all-purpose flour 

Margarine or butter softened 

1 cup diced almonds, in a food processor

1 or 2 apples grated

The first thing you want to do is dissolve the water in warm water, in a large bowl. Let it sit for 5 minutes so that it can bloom. 

Heat up your milk, sugar, shortening, and salt in a pot just until the milk becomes blood temperature. Meaning when you place your finger in the pot, you can’t feel the temperature. It is essentially the same temperature of the blood in your finger.

Add the milk mixture to the yeast, and add 4 cups of your flour. Beat it until smooth. Mix in enough of the remaining flour to make the dough easy to handle. 

Now on to the fun part of making bread. Yes, you could use a standing mixer fitted with a dough paddle, but that defeats the therapy part of beard baking. You will want to turn your dough into a lightly floured surface and knead for 10 minutes. Until it is smooth and elastic. Place the dough into a greased bowl. Let it rise in a warm place until it doubles in size for about 1 hour. 

While it is proofing you can start on your filling. You are going to grind up your almonds in a food processor. For some reason, I did not add my apples to the food processor, which I really could have done. De-cored them and just tossed them into the almonds. But no, I decided to shred the apples the old-fashioned way, with a shredder.  And I place both of them in a bowl. Added a little bit of cinnamon and nutmeg, to taste. 

After an hour, you are going to punch the dough down and divide it in half. You are going to add your apple-almond mixture to the rolled-out dough, and then you are going to roll up the bread like you would if you were making a roll cake. Pinching all of the sides so that none of the insides come out. 

Place the loaves into the prepared loaf pans, and let the proof for another hour in a warm spot. 

While they are proofing for the second time, you will want to start to preheat your oven to 425F. 

Once the hour is over with, the bread is noticeably larger. You are going to bake the bread for somewhere between 25 to 30 minutes, or until the loaves have a deep golden brown color, and sound hollow when tapped. 

Now that they are out of the oven, you are going to carefully take them out of the pans. And enjoy. 

Breakfast is one of the hardest meals in my family. It’s not that we don’t eat breakfast, but it is just hard because we have to eat. And sometimes, some people have a sweet tooth, and other times people wake up and need protein. Most mornings are just getting your own breakfasts. I mean it makes sense because we are all adults. One thing everyone has in common though, is they like it when I make something like this. Because it makes breakfast easy. They can just grab whatever I have made, and if they need protein they will just add an egg. So I have unofficially been in charge of breakfast for my family. 

I hope that you liked this recipe. Feel free to check it out for yourself. See you in the next post. Thank you.

Pinterest: Here

Recipe:

[banananasarethebest]

Split the Sweet Adolescence

Whoever not even once longed for their teenage years, cast the first stone. A romanticized image of a 16-year-old me living my best life pops up in my head whenever I am blessed with yet another teenage movie. In reality, it was a life filled with highschool dramas, sleepless nights, braces, and pimple patches. 

(Not to mention the massive FOMO these on-screen American teens gave me, because where the hell do I find a wild house party, a baseball match, and a passionate love triangle overnight?)

But why bother with such irrelevant details when you can vicariously relive your supposedly prime time through a teenage rom-com. Benjamin Kasulke seems to have taken one for the team. His directorial debut Banana Split (2018) is a pursuit to bring this Peter Pan dream to life. Although there is only a tiny touch of the true teenage experience, the film manages to take us back in time the same way that whiff of apple crumble takes me to my grandma’s kitchen.

Banana Split starts off to be your average coming-of-age movie in all its cringy, cheesy, predictable ways. There is a boy, there is a girl. Nick and April fall in love. Highschool sweethearts. Oh no, senior year! Naturally, Americans can only study at a college in Boston or California (the rest of the country clearly has no universities), and so do our main characters. Far, far away from each other! Highschool sweethearts are no longer. Nick seems to move on quickly, April is still deeply in love, rotting in her despair. And there’s still the whole of last summer before college… 

That is where this dessert of a story turns out to be lava cake rather than a simple brownie. Nick’s ex-girlfriend April and his new girlfriend Clara unexpectedly form a close friendship despite their initial rivalry over the same guy. They decide to keep their pact a secret to avoid drama. As easily predicted, mayhem manages to break out despite their attempts to keep this unusual not-even-love triangle intact.

(If one’s mind dares to go to dark, dark places, that is the first time they ‘split the banana split’. Get it, cause they sleep with the same dude? Don’t blame me, I’m just materializing the teenager humor in me.)

Putting an emphasis predominantly on female friendship, rather than basking itself in the jealousy and rivalry of high schoolers, is a breath of fresh air, a leaf of mint on that overwhelmingly sweet banana split. The two connections that April makes throughout the film are initially portrayed as identical. A quirky, flashing passage of scenes she shares with Nick, and later Clara, is duplicated to illustrate the evolution of both these relationships. At the end of the day, both of them were of great significance for each member of that triangle. But somehow, in this recipe the guy turned out to be only a binding between the two teenage girls, creating a beautiful, yet unconventional, friendship.

Although tasty, don’t let that maraschino cherry overwhelm your judgment of the whole dessert. While Banana Split stands out from the usual cookie-cutter teenage rom-com, it suffers its shortcomings, too. These teenagers are nothing like the kids that we used to be at their age. One reason could be casting actors who look like they could join us on the nostalgia wagon to play pre-college teens. Another would be that the world they live in is just so incredibly unrealistic. The whole story spans over one summer. April and Clara make it in time to become best friends forever, while keeping it secret from Nick, but also spending all of their free time together or maneuvering between the boy and his other friend, who just so happens to also be friends with both of the girls. As confusing as it sounds, they make it work. In less than two months. With their families barely even knowing who they spend these long days with. 

(Because remember: out of all people, teenagers hate their own parents the most.)

Banana Split is truly a title match made in heaven. Benjamin Kasulke’s coming-of-age comedy is a highly familiar flavor, at times sickly sweet, but also soothing and consoling. Plus, it looks nothing like the picture in the menu, just like this made-to-share dessert. The banana-ity of this movie is worth mentioning, too. That’s the whole point of this post. A banana is consumed. A banana split, to be precise. And even though April and Clara do, in fact, split the sweet snack, all it does is bring them together. 

Sweet and snug

Pleasantly predictable

Letterboxd reviewers say April and Clara should be a couple

In what universe are parents that chill?

Touch some grass, go meet actual teenagers

Ripeness rating: 8/10

🍌 has a brown bruise in one spot, but overall is in perfect shape

🍌 it’s actually two smaller bananas, you can give one of them to your friend who forgot their lunch (they will absolutely adore you for that)

[gay-jewish-bucky]

What are the boys up to for Thanksgiving this year? Any special recipes on deck? And who is in charge in the kitchen?

They're having a huge dinner with all their friends and family!

Sam, Nat, Maria, Scott (who brings Cassie), Peter, Wanda, Sharon, Carol, Bucky's younger sisters and nieces/nephews and other extended family... etc, etc

Since they own their own land, they have a massive yard, which means they have plenty of space for everyone to sit together comfortably.

Bucky is in charge of the kitchen; Steve is banished to the living room to watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade because, instead of being of any help, he's either sneaking food or distracting Bucky with kisses (in fairness to Steve, Bucky is wearing a custom apron that says 'kiss the cook' in Yiddish).

Sam and Wanda help out with dinner instead.

Cooking takes a long time (prep beginning a few days prior) because there are so many of them to feed.

Thanks to the popularity and availability of non-dairy-alternatives, making the dinner kosher, while still including most staples, is pretty easy with enough prior practice and experimentation.

The fruit and vegetables were bought from a farmer's market in town (there is nothing quite like farm fresh corn on the cob).

Bucky makes stuffing with challah, instead of regular bread. His eldest niece brings cranberry-apple kugel and his grand-nephew bring sweet potato latkes made by his boyfriend.

For dessert, of course they have pumpkin pie, pecan pie, apple pie, as well as Sarah Rogers' famous apple cake (the recipe book for which Steve may have "borrowed" from the Smithsonian).

Alpine, of course, gets her own special meal which she enjoys from the peace of her catio.

[stardewremixed]

🍨Stardewies Favorite Desserts🍨

Stardew Valley ladies’ favorite desserts (including SVE) 

Abigail

this girl is all about the desserts - banana pudding, blackberry cobbler, chocolate cake. Picks fresh blackberries from your farm every year. 

Gets bananas from Ginger Island to make her own banana pudding. Definitely needs multiple alarms to remember to remove items from the oven. 

loves everything pumpkin spice - mousse, pudding, pies, cakes, muffins, bagels, etc. 

is first in line for a pumpkin spice latte. Complete with a cozy hat, scarf, and sniffing the steam from the beverage with a pleasant sigh. 

chocolate pumpkin donuts? Is that a thing? 

sucks on rock candy - nearly chipped a tooth once. 

would drag the Farmer around the Spirit’s Eve festival to get all the pumpkin treats and candy (no black licorice though, please)

Claire 

enjoys fruity desserts - apricots are her favorite. 

Apricot jam and scones is a perfect snack with a hot cup of tea. 

also loves apples - and bakes an apple pie every fall. 

Eats a slice while in her garden and watching the birds at the feeder. 

secretly stockpiles recipes from the cooking channel and her favorite movies. 

stocks up on discounted joja candies and feels guilty about it later. 

if in a romantic relationship, would enjoy a lazy afternoon between leafy fruit trees, lying in the grass, eating fruit and fresh cream on the farm. 

Emily 

drinks a kale and fruit smoothie every morning before she meditates. makes dessert alcoholic beverages all the time at Gus’s. Hardly anyone buys them, but she enjoys making pina coladas with fresh cherries and pineapple from your farm. 

when she’s in a silly mood, she will put a scoop of ice cream in a beer after work. Gus might join her if he’s in a particularly jovial mood. Sam would absolutely join, but more ice cream, less beer. 

picks up cranberry candy every time she visits Ginger Island 

bakes rhubarb pie. She’s halfway decent in the kitchen, playing very zen music when she cooks. Might overload on sugar. 

In a romantic relationship, the Farmer would be the unwitting participant in taste testing Emily’s sugary desserts and beverages. 

Haley

Pink cake is her favorite. 

definitely owns a frilly apron. 

Dances in the kitchen a bit when baking. 

eats ice cream with sprinkles. 

organizes a cake walk fundraiser nearly every year. Coordinates with all the ladies of the community. Jodi, by far, bakes the most cakes - there’s always an overload of chocolate cakes of various sizes (perfectly iced).  Marnie enters a pumpkin cake. Robin “makes” a peach cobbler (really it’s Sebastian with Robin’s help). Caroline makes tea cakes. 

Is very particular about the display of cakes, with her own right in the center on a lacy pedestal. 

Any excuse to bake a cake for the farmer if in a romantic relationship, with fresh ingredients from their farm. 

Leah 

Not a big sweets person. Likes fruity dessert salads. 

Foraged berries are a great treat! Salmonberries, blackberries, 

Enjoys a slice of cheesecake every once in awhile - made from goat cheese. 

really, really, really loves fruit punch (especially when it’s spiked) 

needs Elliott (or the Farmer) to escort her home as she trips over her own feet if she’s too far gone on the “punch” 

skips out on Haley’s cake walk - yuck! Pink cake! Blech! 

Also doesn’t like cookies or ice cream. (What’s with this woman!) 

Makes an exception for stardrop sorbet when it’s available at the movie theater. 

Maru

kindly eats Emily’s (too sweet) rhubarb pie without complaint 

this girl adores strawberries - fresh strawberries and cream is a delightful late spring treat. 

also will eat pretty much any strawberry dessert - strawberry pie, strawberry pound cake, strawberry turnovers

makes little strawberry jam thumbprint cookies for everyone’s Christmas stockings. 

buys Miner’s Treat from the Adventurer’s Guild regularly. (cave carrots, sugar, and milk so I’m guessing carrot juice smoothie popsicles?) 

asks Alex to make her a strawberry soda shake in the summertime 

begs her dad to take her to the Strawberry Festival in Grampleton. Demetrius still goes with her every year even if she can drive herself now.

if friends with the Farmer, would invite them along on her annual trip to the Strawberry Festival. If in a romantic relationship, would take the farmer sans Demetrius. 

Olivia 

cannot bake to save her life, but will eat plenty of chocolate and pink cakes. 

spends the most money at Haley’s cake walk. gifts to all her friends. 

loves dessert wines, especially when paired with cake. 

also loves coffee-flavored desserts like her son. will dip biscotti in her afternoon coffee. 

happens to enjoy apples dipped in caramel in the fall. got really into it one year and tried to make her own. the canning turned into a disaster. the apples were good. 

would love to be invited apple picking if the farmer is offering. if in a romantic relationship, she would bring a favorite recipe for apple cake she has stored for years and shyly requests the “cutie” make it for her. 

Penny

loves poppyseed muffins and poppyseed cake. 

while she can cook, she doesn’t bake well. Prefers to buy her baked goods from Joja or Pierre’s. 

that time she ate so many poppyseed muffins in high school that she tested positive for drugs by accident. She was so depressed, she ran away and cried up on the mountain and actually did weed with Sebastian. 

she enjoys a good watermelon smoothie in the summertime. Alex keeps extra in stock just for her. 

If in a relationship with the farmer, she regularly makes poppyseed muffins for breakfast. 

Sophia

orders Japanese candies off the internet 

keeps a stash of candy in her apron to nibble on throughout the day 

likes unusual fruit cookies - apple and cinnamon chips, passion fruit cremes, rhubarb macaroons, mandarin orange flavored pizelles. 

also would roll mochi with Sebastian late at night, if he would let her join him. brings wine from her farm to share. 

leaves little treats out for the fairies on the eve of spring (like kids leave cookies for Santa). It’s a superstition she’s had since she was a kid. Has never failed to help her crop season.

would absolutely go do karaoke with friends and order all sorts of desserts for them - green tea ice cream, coffee jelly, banana sushi 

if in a romantic relationship with the Farmer, would bring them a slice of Japanese cheesecake on the new moon. 

And there you have it. See the bachelors here. 

[mslaevateinn]

Sarah Rogers’ Mock Apple Pie

Square filled: Free x Canon Compliant for the @buckybarnesbingo​ (Buckuary Intersectionnal Bingo) Prompts from the @stuckybingo​ Server February’s party ‘Baking’ and @stucky-week​ ‘Sarah Rogers’ 

Relationships: Bucky/Steve Rating: G Warnings: N/A Tags: Bucky discovers B Dylan Hollis’ videos, baking, Sarah Rogers, canon divergent post endgame, everyone lives, Steve retires Summary: ‘Steve! Come on, get your ass over here! I found 21th century you on the internet!’ Word count: 570

“Steve!" came from the living room

Bucky didn't seem distressed - if anything, he sounded very amused - so Steve only hummed in response.

“Come on, get your ass over here!" He grumbled. 

"Why?" He was very cozy here, thank you very much.

“Come on, I found 21st century you on the internet!”

Alright. His curiosity was picked now. A 21st century version of him? What did Bucky mean by that?

Sighing, Steve got up then walked out of his mini-studio. In a few seconds he was next to his partner, who seemed to be laughing at his laptop. Steve dropped next to Bucky, who shifted to rest against his chest. He sneaked both arms around the brunet and placed his chin on his shoulder.

“What is it?”“Just look,” Bucky said, waving a finger at the screen.” Shuri sent me some weird recipe earlier, and I just found this guy.”

B Dylan Hollis, the name said. Huh, didn’t ring a bell. Although, the young man did look like he used to. Very thin, blond, blue eyes… yes, he could see the similarities.

“Oh but it gets better”, said Bucky who was looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

He clicked on what turned out to be a video, and after that came the most chaotic thing Steve witnessed in the last month - considering who his friends were, it was an achievement. It was amazing.

“Are there more?”

“Absolutely!”

Steve and Bucky rearranged themselves better, and they spent a solid ten minutes looking at this guy’s videos. The rice bread and carrot cake reminded them of their time, but the jello salad definitely made them seriously question the sanity of the people in charge of the food industry.

“Look at this one”, suddenly said Bucky, pointing at the screen. “Do you think it could be legit?”

“Only one way to know.”

Bucky nodded then clicked on a new video. ‘A fake apple pie, from the great depression’, the man announced. It did sound like a recipe straight from his Ma’s book.

They stopped watching after this one, saving the page to continue later. Instead, they got up, scoured their kitchen for Ritz crackers and when they found none, wrote down everything they needed and Steve left for grocery shopping.

When he came back an hour later, Bucky had everything already sorted out so they put away everything before Steve went to change into comfortable clothes.

The recipe seemed pretty straightforward - if you didn’t make your own dough, which they wouldn’t try today- so they set the oven to preheat right away.

Bucky played the video one last time, comparing it with the list he had scribbled down. Satisfied, he put the laptop away then -dramatically- cracked his knuckles. With a grin, he handed Steve the dough and the shell while he grabbed the crackers and the bowl. They set to work, talking about the last time they had seen someone cook this: Sarah Rogers, the year she fell sick. Talking about her, and after that Bucky’s family brought back memories and emotions they had almost forgotten, and they spent the time the pie cooked cuddling on their couch, a nature documentary as background noise.

Finally, the pie finished cooking, and they brought out small plates and went back on the couch.  They looked at each other before digging into the dessert. 

The mock pie tasted like home.

[chubbology]

The Munchies

prompt: a stoner feedee's girlfriend uses him to test out new edibles and deals with his munchies

Remmy returned home from visiting relatives on the last day of December, and he was very glad to be back. They’d fed him well and his pants were tight, but all the small talk and bad vibes had been as much of a drag as usual.

He opened the door to his apartment and breathed in a familiar, potent scent.

“Baby!” Brianna ran from the kitchen and tackled him.

“Happy almost New Year! Wanna hear my resolution? Baking and getting baked. Check it out.”

She brought him over to the counter, where she was almost done filling up three containers of what Remmy had no doubt were various edibles. He ignored the kitchen mess.

“I’m liking what I see,” Remmy laughed.

She preened and then pinched his love handle. “I bet you do."

"These aren’t your typical brownies, though," she said. "This is gourmet.” She kissed her fingertips in a muah.

The first container was full of moist shortbread, the second with a kind of apple crumble dish that looked divine. Last but not least, the third had a jumble of what like peanut butter cups.

“Try something!” Brianna gushed. She seemed to be a little floaty already. “You’re gonna be my new taste tester. I think I could really be good at this. Make some cash, too.”

So Remmy tried one of the peanut butter cups. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “Bri, these are incredible.” He ate another.

“Take it easy. Two should get you stoned. So says the recipe anyway.” Brianna rubbed his pudgy forearm as he eyed the rest in the container, biting the inside of his lip. “Hey. If you’re just hungry, I can fix that. You wanna eat?”

“I’m starving,” Remmy said. A lie, since he’d had a big lunch before driving back. But he could eat.

“Okay, I’ll get you something! Pay day was Monday. Let’s splurge. What do you want?”

McDonalds, Remmy’s mind supplied easily, in an almost salacious tone. His relatives thought they were too good for McDonalds, and now his body thrummed with the desire to just get a truckload of those greasy combos and revel in the guilt and satisfaction of eating every last unhealthy bite.

Then again. Brianna probably wasn’t okay to drive right now, he didn’t feel like getting back in the car, and the scale told him he’d hit 240 recently, “Let’s just order in.”

“Sounds good to me.”

That night, as they ignored the idiots on television bringing in the New Year, the two of them picked at the apple crumble - which tasted as brilliant as Remmy had suspected - and lounged around, enjoying their high. Brianna barely touched her Chinese takeout, and Remmy ate all of his. Then hers. Then he started grazing the kitchen for more food.

Over the course of the next week, the two of them finished off the rest of what she made, plus some more recipes that turned out delicious. Brianna got a pleasant high every time, and Remmy enjoyed the edibles, too, although his experience was slightly different. It was just—

He just—

He got hungry. Munchies but on unholy overdrive. Cranked to eleven and a half. With every high, Remmy became a little more overwhelmed by the sheer amount of food he felt compelled to pack away, savory and sweet. Takeout and fast food and quarts of ice cream. Nuts and fruits, too. Jar of peanut butter here. Tub of icing there. He’d never been very active, so it came as no surprise when his clothes began stretching over his chest and belly and thighs and ass. He popped a button getting dressed one morning and couldn’t stop thinking about it the rest of the day. He hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly, his body converting all the calories into flab. Flab that padded him out chubbier than he already was, and then more on top of that. In the mirror, he started to look big.

Brianna seemed unfazed by her boyfriend’s growing girth. She took to her baking resolution with as much gusto as she did anything that interested her, and even into March, April, and May, she was selling the edibles well and raked in money that almost made her day job obsolete. Remmy was constantly praised for being “the bestest taste tester ever” and enjoyed a steady stream of free highs to balance out the lows of spending most of his time working his IT job from home.

Working, gaming, watching old movies. Remmy already stayed sitting most of the day, but as he gained weight, gained a lot, filling out his desk chair to its limits, crumbs becoming his constant companion, he felt even less like standing up. His weight climbed to 280, 290, 300.

June, July, and August passed uneventfully, and pretty happily, too. Brianna stopped asking him what food he wanted from the grocery store and just bought him things. Bought him things she knew he’d eat when he got high, things that made his ass spread wider on the couch, his arms round out like sausages, his pudgy chest start to really droop. The scale said 320, 330, 340.

Remmy gave up trying to gain control of the new appetite Brianna’s heavenly edibles seemed to install in him irrevocably. When he craved, he ate, and he ate. And like a dam breaking, his body surged with so much excess fat he began spilling out of even his newest clothes.

He was a little ashamed, sure. But quite a few of his relatives were fat, so they couldn't talk, and it felt like sweet revenge to embarrass his irritating parents by becoming so overweight. As for everyday life, well, he just moved around from room to room slower, wore the same stretchy clothes a lot, and that was it. Remmy did mention his weight in passing sometimes to gauge Brianna’s feelings about it, but Brianna only ever giggled, called him cute, and passed him her venti sugary monstrosity of a coffee concoction, which he thoughtlessly sucked down to the dregs, ingesting a thousand-plus calories just like that. This made her eyes sparkle, huge and utterly endeared.

“Like a piggy,” she said, thumbing his fat cheek. “Always willing to eat.”

In bed, she made it clear she liked him the way he was, and was becoming. And it wasn’t long before Remmy realized he was into how big he was becoming, too.

They continued like this. Getting high together and watching movies and making out and snacking. Well, Brianna snacked. Remmy feasted. Gorged himself, to put it precisely, with Brianna’s enthusiastic help. “You look good soft,” she’d tell him, playing with belly fat that his stretchiest t-shirts couldn’t cover anymore.

Remmy would swallow another bite of a snickers and spread his huge thighs a little, with effort. “You call it soft, but I’m the one who gets tired moving from the office to the kitchen.” I’m so heavy, he wanted to say. God, I’m so heavy.

“Just move your computer to the kitchen then,” she said. “Duh.”

It was a seed planted that came to fruition a month later - when Remmy’s food cravings became unmanageable and his weight climbed past 360 - that he felt he would simply be more productive during his day job if his breaks to get food from the kitchen were shorter.

By November, whether he was high or not, Remmy was grazing all day, everyday. What Brianna got from the store became insufficient, and he started a habit of ordering take out most days. In big portions. His scale creaked at 375. When Brianna wasn’t home, he sometimes ate takeout on the scale to see if the number would rise.

On Remmy’s birthday in early December, Brianna made a fresh batch of his favorites again: the peanut butter cup edibles. After ordering pizza for delivery, she got in the shower, and Remmy scarfed down three of the big cups as soon as they cooled. Then he waited, leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone, belly hanging, feet hurting. He didn’t want to go to the effort of sitting on the couch and getting back up again when he could just stay in the kitchen, where he knew he’d end up anyway.

He scratched his supple underbelly. Found a pack of Twizzlers and started eating those.

Soon enough, his breathing slowed as he felt the high slowly come over him. And, as expected, his whole body immediately began to tingle for satiation. Fattening food sung to him from the pantry and fridge and freezer all at once, and it was all going to make him so huge and heavy he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own wide feet, but he wanted it anyway.

He didn’t care if he was pushing 390 now. He’d blown up, yeah. Inflated from a thick guy to obese and waddling. At this point, he was so pumped so big with blubber that he couldn’t twitch without jiggling, but so what? He was hungry. Being high made him want to consume, and so he did. He couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.

Remmy opened the fridge and took out his birthday cake, which Brianna must have stuck in there after getting home from work. He couldn’t wait to eat it properly. There was no way he could wait until after the pizza came. Besides, it was his birthday. Remmy took off the plastic lid of the round, triple chocolate cake and felt his nerves light up with anticipation. He was going to eat it all, and there was no stopping him.

He found a knife and cut himself a slice three times the size any reasonable person would take. Desperate to get the goodness into his mouth without delay, he skipped a fork and bit right into the gooey, dense cake and mouse and fudge. God, Brianna was so perfect for getting him the unhealthiest cake imaginable. She knew he didn’t care if he was ten pounds heavier tomorrow, if his fat ass ripped his sweatpants open, if he ate so much he couldn’t haul himself to bed—she knew he needed this.

He ate slice after slice, and it was mostly gone when Brianna got out of the shower, looking sexier than usual in her matching purple lingerie. She’d gotten chubbier with so much junk food in the apartment, and fat clung to her in all the right places. But her pudge was a far cry from his angry-red stretch marks and neck rolls. Hell, his moobs had grown bigger than her tits.

She found him in the kitchen, eating and holding his drooping belly, and she rubbed his back, cooing at him when he apologized.

“It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t be able to wait all night. How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Remmy said, but all he could think about was getting his next bite. As she watched him, he tried to hold out. Tried to prove he could stop eating for two seconds. Three seconds, four - his resolve broke and he crammed the rest of a slice into his mouth and chewed, choking back a moan.

“You get the munchies so bad, don’t you?” Brianna grinned and leaned against his belly, patting and cupping his weighty breasts in the way she knew pleased him. “Let’s get you sat down. I’ll bring you what you need. Just sit and relax and watch whatever you want.” They moved to the couch and Remmy sat, the cushions wheezing, his thighs and belly quivering. Brianna tucked the remainder of the cake into his pudgy hands. “Don’t worry about a mess. It’s your birthday. And there’s more where that came from.” She winked. “I just needed to keep this cake refrigerated because it’s fancy. There’s a whole sheet cake on top of the fridge that’s cheap and huge. Covered in icing. Perfect for munchies.”

Remmy could only feel a wave of relief at this news. There would be more cake. And after that, there’d still be more junk in the cabinets. There was pizza coming. His high was just right. Brianna turned on the television to his favorite show and he settled further back into the cushions, feeling his second chin swell out and engulf his first. Everything was just right. He was lucky to have Brianna and food. So much food.

A year later, around the same time, Remmy skipped his usual trip to see his relatives for the holidays. At 520 pounds, it was simply too much effort to move.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[pookha]

No tengo las llaves

Chapter 2

Vee keeps up appearances for Camila, makes empanadas and has their first meeting? date? with Masha. They compare notes and discuss where they're going.

Originally, I just meant for this to have the one chapter, but I'm enjoying it and it will have more, probably 4 or 5. It will be updated whenever I can, but I work full-time, it may be a while. I will aim for weekly or fortnightly, but if it takes longer sometimes, I apologize in advance.

Thank everyone who read, left kudos and especially those who commented. I love you all. Let's spread the Owl House love.

Vee slid out of the top bunk and onto the floor. They went to Camila’s room and got her laptop. They logged in as Camila and found her password manager. They tried a couple of times to log into it, but couldn’t get the password correct and stopped before they got locked out. They dug around in Camila’s dresser drawers and eventually found a piece of paper at the very bottom of Camila’s jewelry box. Vee laughed and went back to the laptop.

They logged into the password manager with “C0sM1C_Fr0nt13r” and got access to Camila’s bank account. They looked over Camila’s desk for bills and made sure to pay them, noticing that most of them had already been set up for autopay. They used Zelle to transfer some money to Luz’s account, which Vee had a debit card for. Vee saw the brochure for the camp sticking out from the bill pile and touched it fondly.

“I never would have known how to do this without you,” they said and then shivered at the empty house.

They looked at the clock, sighed and shifted to Luz’s shape. They got Camila’s spare keyring and then got on their bike and rode to where they had left the car the night before. They loaded the bike in the trunk, shifted to Camila and drove to the clinic. They drove carefully, obeying the speed limit, using turn signals and the mirrors. They were happy that they’d insisted Camila teach them how to drive and that they picked up skills quickly.

When they got to the clinic they got everything ready for Camila’s suposed unexpected trip back to the Dominican Republic to visit her abuela. Everyone took it well, with Vee getting lots of sympathetic hugs from Camila’s staff. They hoped it wouldn’t be too long; Dr Simonson could help out, but not forever and they could call in Dr Jensen, but she had her own concierge service.

Vee left as soon as they could, stopped at the grocery store to pick up some fresh apples. They also picked up some soda and chips.

When they got back home… home… they thought of Camila’s house as home now. They knew that they’d never go back to the Demon Realm unless they had to. Hopefully, Belos would lose and they could open the portal whenever they wanted so Vee could get magic to eat. They couldn’t think about the alternative.

They switched back to their natural form and started working in the kitchen. Cooking and especially baking had become stress relief and they loved learning all the recipes that Camila had learned from her mom and her abuela. They put their phone on the dock and turned Spotify onto shuffle. They’d combined Camila’s and Luz’s and Masha’s playlists and the mix was…eclectic to say the least.

Kpop blared from Luz’s playlist as they laid out their ingredients in the order they’d need them, a thing they’d learned recently was called mise en place. If they managed to stay in the human realm, they thought they’d love to open a bakery: fresh doughnuts, savory and sweet empanadas, cakes and pies, brownies and cupcakes. They’d recently learned how to shape fondant and it was art …art was the only word that they thought applied.

Their phone buzzed on the dock with a text and they paused to look at it.

I have detention today (talking back to a teacher…again), so I won’t be there until around 5. My mom’s going to pick me up around 8ish. Should I bring something for dinner or snax?

Vee texted back quickly, not wanting to leave them on read.

I’m making something. You’re not vegetarian, right?

They saw the ‘…’ of Masha typing and then;

Nope. see you around 5

Vee went back to their baking. They made their fillings first and sat them aside before making their dough the traditional way with masa rather than white flour. They made the apple ones first and while they were cooling, they baked the chorizo filled ones. The smell of the nutmeg, cinnamon and apples tempted them enough that they had to eat one. It was still warm and gooey from the oven and Vee blew on it to keep it cool. Now that the baking was done, their mind raced as they ate. Thoughts of Camila and Luz and Luz’s friends ran circles and then Masha’s face filled them. They sighed, finished their empanada and started cleaning.

They had just loaded the dishwasher to run when the savory empanadas were done. Their sensitive nose let them know that they were perfect; they were improving rapidly.

After they had cooled for a few minutes, Vee broke one open to look at it, just look at it, but then ate it. It hadn’t cooled enough and they gasped around a burnt roof of their mouth; a fitting punishment for lying to themself they thought.

They sat down with Luz’s laptop and went back to Duolingo. They were getting through the Spanish lessons much more quickly than Camila had thought they would. Being a basilisk and changing shape gave them a lot of knowledge and language skills, but still learning the slang and idioms was challenging.

They lost themselves on the internet for a while and only looked up when a knock came at the door. They shifted back to their human Vee shape and got up.

“Ah, shoot, it’s already five,” they said as they opened the door.

Masha stood on the other side, covered against the damp chill by a long black coat, not quite a trench, but not just a windbreaker either.

“Going to let me in or just stare at me,” Masha asked.

Vee blushed, hating that they would blush no matter their form.

“Sorry,” they said and stood aside to let Masha in.

Masha entered, opened their jacket to let the heat of the house in as Vee closed the door. They both stood awkwardly for a moment before Masha broke the silence.

“I trust you, but there are some things I’ve got to ask first, okay?”

Vee nodded.

“You’re not planning to kill me and eat my skin?”

Vee blinked in surprise and put their hands to their face.

“What? No, I’m not a fairy. I don’t eat skin. I won’t hurt you.”

“Wait, fairies eat skin?” Masha asked.

“In the Boiling Isles they do,” Vee said.

Masha laughed.

“All right. Are you super old? This isn’t a Twilight thing where you’re like a hundred and I’m a teenager, right?”

Vee’s blush deepened.

“No, no, I’m…”

They thought for a moment.

“I—I think I’m about fifteen in human terms?” It sounded like a question.

“You’re not sure?” Masha asked.

Vee shook their head.

“Not one hundred percent. I feel about that old and I know that we mature about the same as witches and humans. I don’t know exactly when I was made, but I’m no older than eighteen and no younger than fourteen.”

“Wait, you said ‘made.’ What do you mean?”

Vee lowered their head.

“Can we talk about it in the living room?” they asked in a very small voice.

Masha nodded and followed Vee to the couch. They looked around curiously as Vee sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to them for Masha. Masha took off their jacket and draped it on the arm of the couch before sitting next to Vee. Vee’s hands were knotted together in their lap. Masha reached over and put their hand over Vee’s. Vee looked up and smiled.

“Basilisks had been extinct in the Boiling Isles for a long time, hunted by the witches because we eat magic. Belos brought us back using magic and alchemy or whatever to study how we drain magic so he could kill all the witches.”

Vee’s voice, which had been small, was now tiny.

“It’s not your fault,” Masha said, picking up on Vee’s guilt right away. They squeezed Vee’s hands. Vee released their own hands and gripped Masha’s tightly.

“I just learned recently that Belos was a human who came through a portal a long time ago and he was some kind of witch hunter. He killed his brother; Luz said something about it before Belos escaped back to the Demon Realm.”

Masha went very still.

“Is—was his name Philip?”

“I think that’s what Luz called him,” Vee said.

“Okay, tell me everything,” Masha said.

Vee told the whole story of the previous night, with flashbacks to how they came to the Human Realm and took over Luz’s identity.

“I—wow, that’s a lot,” Masha said finally. They reached up to brush nascent tears from the corners of Vee’s eyes.

“You weren’t at the hayride, so you don’t know the story from the human side.”

Vee shook their head.

Masha told them the story of the Wittebane brothers and Vee nodded. It fit what they knew and what had happened the night before.

“And Mrs Noceda followed Luz and her friends to the Demon Realm?”

“Mom—Camila did,” Vee said.

“You already think of her as Mom; I love it. That alone speaks well of you,” Masha said.

Masha’s stomach rumbled and there was silence for a second before they both laughed, tension released.

“I made food. Sorry I forgot!” Vee stood up suddenly and bustled to the kitchen. Masha paused just a moment before following them. Vee turned around and saw them following.

“Aw, I was gonna bring it to you, but this is better.” They waved their hand for Masha to sit at the table.

Vee grabbed a plate with a cloche on it and put it on the table.

“Those are the apple ones; just a moment and I’ll get the savory ones warm.”

They pulled a plate, opened the fridge and put six empanadas on a plate. They put them in the microwave for about 40 seconds while they pre-heated the oven.

“If you just microwave them to reheat them, they get soggy and if you just use the oven, the outside gets too crispy before the filling is hot, so I microwave them for a little bit and then crisp them in the oven to reheat.”

Masha nodded like they knew what Vee was talking about.

The microwave beeped, Vee opened it, put the empanadas on a baking sheet and put them in the oven.

“It’s not fully pre-heated, so it’s going to take a few more minutes,” they said. They set a timer for ten minutes.

Vee sat at the table across from Masha.

“I—I have a question and I hope it’s not rude,” Masha said.

“It’s okay,” Vee said.

“You said yesterday that you wanted to change your pronouns to they/them from she/her. Are you female, do you identify as non-binary…or?” Masha trailed off, embarrassed to be asking such a pointed question.

Vee smiled.

“It’s complicated. In my natural form, I’m non-binary; basilisks don’t really have male/female sex. We can be one or the other, or both or neither. I prefer to be female when I shift to other shapes, but I don’t have to be. From the few of us I knew, most of us had a gender and sex preference. They/them just feels better to me right now. Maybe I’ll go back to she/her at some point or she/they, but I don’t know right now. So much is in flux. I might have to go back to the Demon Realm to live, assuming they can even re-open the portal. If not, I’ll probably starve to death.”

“Sorry if it was rude, I wasn’t sure how gender and sex worked with basilisks.”

“It’s all right,” Vee said.

“I can tell you about me,” Masha said, their voice now choking a bit.

“If you want, but you don’t have to. Remember that I was at camp and I know your deadname and how you presented then,” Vee said.

Now Masha was crying. Vee slid their chair closer to Masha’s and put their arm around them.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

Masha leaned their head on Vee’s shoulder, which got soaked with tears.

“Sorry, I don’t cry much,” Masha said, lifting their head and wiping their eyes with their sleeve.

The timer beeped, causing them both to jump and then laugh.

Vee got up and went to the oven and got out the pan. The scent of chorizo filled the kitchen.

“Damn, that smells amazing,” Masha said.

Vee dished them up and got plates.

They pointed at the empanadas.

“The ones with the two fork pricks are spicy and the ones with the four fork pricks are very spicy. The ones on the other plate are apple, for dessert.”

Masha grabbed one each of the spicy and very spicy. They took a bite of the very spicy first, chewed it thoughtfully, stood suddenly and went to a cabinet.

“Glasses are in the one on the left. Get milk, not water, it will cut the spice better,” Vee said.

Masha got two glasses and the carton of milk from the fridge. They sat them on the table, filled their glass with milk and drank a big gulp of it.

“You—you weren’t kidding when you said very spicy,” Masha said.

“Too much?” Vee asked.

Masha nodded.

Vee took the spicy one off their plate and switched it with Masha’s very spicy.

“You don’t mind it has a bite out of it?” Masha asked, taking a bite of the spicy one. Their eyes went wide, but they managed to swallow it.

“Nah, we’re gonna be making out at some point, you said, so what’s a bite?”

Masha choked a bit on their milk and Vee laughed.

“I know you were saying that to just make your mom laugh some, but were you serious?” Vee asked, lowering their eyes again.

“I was mostly tweaking my mom, but also serious. I do like you Vee and maybe it will happen when we get to know each other better or maybe we’ll just be friends, but I really do want to find out. When it happens, it’ll happen, you know?”

Vee nodded.

They ate mostly in silence; Masha had to refill their milk twice more.

“Sorry it’s too spicy,” Vee said and Masha waved them off.

“I’ll get used to it,” Masha said.

They finished their empanadas and Vee piled the dishes in the sink. Masha picked up one of the apple empanadas and looked at it.

“What’s the glaze?” they asked, taking a nibble.

“Just powdered sugar and milk,” Vee said.

“They’re really good, both the apple and the chorizo.” Masha smiled.

“I remember when we first met at camp, you were so shy and didn’t really seem to know what was going on. Do basilisks all learn this fast?”

Vee nodded.

“Taking a shape gives us some basic knowledge and language skills, but it can be a bit of ‘hello fellow youth’ like that meme if you get what I mean.”

Masha laughed again; Vee was beginning to like making Masha laugh.

“I get you,” they said.

Vee turned around from the sink.

“Would you like to see my real shape?” they asked suddenly.

Masha put the apple empanada down and nodded.

Vee changed back to their natural shape. Masha’s eyes widened, then they smiled.

“You’re super cute,” they said.

Vee blushed.

“You can blush!” Masha laughed. They stood and moved to stand next to Vee.

“May I touch you?” Masha asked.

Vee nodded, grabbed Masha’s hand and put it on their neck.

“You’re warm,” Masha said.

“Where can I touch you safely?” Masha asked.

“Anywhere above here,” Vee said, indicating approximately where their waist would be in human form.

Masha slid their hand.

“You’re smooth; I was expecting scales like an alligator, but you’re more like a garter snake.”

“We’re not reptiles, but I understand,” Vee said. They put their hand over Masha’s and held it.

Masha’s gaze saw the ring on Vee’s tail. Vee noticed.

“That’s where I was chained before I escaped.”

“Can—can you remove it?” Masha asked.

“Maybe with magic, but it reminds me of what I was and what I’m becoming here.”

Masha got a sly look on their face.

“When you shift forms, does it stay with you like a piercing?”

“Yes,” Vee said, and then, “maybe one day I’ll show you.”

“Wait! What happened to your clothes?”

Vee laughed.

“Everyone always asks that. They’re a part of me.”

“Wait, you were naked the whole time?” Masha asked, reddening.

“No, I was wearing clothes, they’re just me. It’s complicated and…” Vee waved their hand, “existential?”

“Can you change your clothes at will?” Masha asked.

Vee nodded.

“I don’t want to waste too much magic, though. What I took off Belos will last me a long time, but who knows how long everyone will be gone.”

“Is that what you meant about starving? Without magic, you’ll die?” Masha slid their hands back up to Vee’s neck and put them around the back of it, embracing them.

“Yeah, human food reduces the amount of magic I need to just live, but I do need magic to change shapes and without it, I’ll eventually wither away, even with human food.”

“Well then, I hope they hurry up even more and they’re all safe,” Masha said.

A horn honked from outside.

They both looked up at the clock. It was already eight. Neither knew where the time had gone.

“Text me when we can see each other again,” Vee said and started to pull away.

Masha leaned in suddenly and kissed Vee’s cheek.

“I’ll text later when I get home,” Masha said.

Vee shifted back to their human shape in Masha’s arms, which made Masha’s eyes go wide again and then kissed them on the cheek, too.

After Vee closed the door behind Masha, they raised their hand to their cheek, which was still burning with Masha’s kiss. On the other side of the door, Masha was doing the same.

[rhettjmc]

Almost two months ago, I lost my partner. He helped me through the roughest part of my life, but unfortunately love alone wasn't enough to make him better. He was brave, loving, crazy intelligent, witty and everything I hope I could be one day.

Even in his final days, he still had his grin and left us, surrounded by his family, with that same smile I fell in love with 3 years ago.

I wrote this as a way to immortalise everything he did for me, and the things I loved most about him. But, without these two boys, I don't know how I would've made it through these past weeks, so of course, I had to try and pour everything I'm feeling into them.

This isn't supposed to be sad - it's soft, comforting and everything he was, and how he pulled me through. ❤️

Please be warned, the ficlet contains a depiction of depression - please read with caution if that is something you are sensitive to.

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Link swallows thickly, the stagnant taste of unused breath curls hotly in his mouth. He winces, attempting to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

Rhett should be home soon, shouldn’t he?

How long had he been gone?

He hums flatly just to fill the silence, his eyelids heavy as he stares at the ceiling, even the simple mechanic of blinking seems hard these days.

Why isn’t Rhett here yet?

He misses him. That’s the only thing he can be sure of recently, ever since his brain packed up and took any chance of happiness with it.

Rhett said he was depressed, clinically.

But what does he know? He always has to know everything, doesn't he?

He could be right though, Link thinks to himself, bitterly.

He chastises himself, furious that he ridiculed Rhett. He’s already burdening him.

Instead, he thinks of cuddling close, with his love’s thumb tenderly stroking over the back of his hand, he thinks of the nights spent under blankets with cheesy pasta and ruddy cheeks, he thinks of their first real date - both of them too scared to reach for the others hand in the dim light of the movie theatre.

He smiles, just about. His lips almost crack under the pressure of the movement, his eyes flick to the glass from the coffee table, knowing full well that it’s empty.

Of course, it’s empty. Rhett’s not here to refill it.

He almost feels anger bubbling in his chest, why isn’t Rhett here to refill it?

Because he had to go, Link’s rational brain reminds himself.

It’s okay, he still loves me.

His eyes shut again, falling heavy under the pressure of staying awake for too long. Thinking tires him out, his existence is vapid without Rhett here.

He listens to the tick of the clock, counting down the seconds until Rhett comes home.

Time passes, the fog settling over his brain congests and sets up camp for the night. It’s not leaving anytime soon.

He hears the door click open, shoes toed off in the hallway, the rustle of bags and the familiar clearing of a throat.

Rhett’s home, a torrent of relief washes over him.

His exterior doesn’t change, his heavy limbs stay folded tightly over his body, his eyes stay hooded and soupy.

He makes a small noise as footsteps approach, almost a tiptoe.

Link knows he’s trying to be quiet - for a tall man, he’s delicate.

His love bends into Link’s space, pressing a careful kiss into his hair, accompanied by a sweeping finger over his brow.

Warmth spreads through Link’s torso, a poor attempt of a smile appears on his lips.

To others, it would seem like nothing. But Rhett knows him, better than anyone. Rhett knows that Link is trying to say - You’re home. I can finally breathe again.

Then, Rhett is scooping up the glass on the table, filling it with cold water and holding it to Link’s lips.

Link grunts, but Rhett perseveres. Rhett only wants what’s best for him. Link owes it to him to have a drink.

The water sits heavy in his stomach, twisting and swishing in a way that makes Link want to tear the hair from his scalp.

Rhett knows.

Rhett kneels by the couch, a warm palm snakes under Link’s shirt and rests carefully on the soft skin of his tummy. Rhett’s thumb sweeps over the skin carefully. Lovingly.

Link doesn’t know how, but the touch dissolves the sickly feeling in his stomach. He feels… fine.

Soon, Rhett is padding off to the kitchen. Link hears the pots and pans clinking together, he hears the flipping of pages from their recipe book - a housewarming gift from Mama Di.

The lump returns to Link’s throat as he thinks of her.

He knows she’s worried about him, he thinks of the hushed phone calls he overhears when she calls Rhett to check in on them.

He’s thankful. He’s lucky to have another Mama in his life that cares so fiercely. She delivers home-cooked meals some days - dishes filled with custard desserts, trays of chocolate-chip loaf cake and flasks filled with soup.

It’s the sort of food you’d deliver if someone had the flu.

But Link wasn’t sick. Not physically, at least. But the gesture isn’t lost on him.

He knows one day, when he can bear it, he’ll thank her. Thank her for the food, for the love and the concern. Thank her for treating him like he’s her own.

Thank her for bringing Rhett into this world. For bringing caring, beautiful Rhett into the world.

He hears Rhett singing softly as a pot bubbles away, he’s singing their song.

Sometimes, all I think about is you

Late nights in the middle of June.

His chest blooms, he wants to sing along. He wants to join in, burst into the kitchen and sing at the top of his lungs. He wants to snake his arms around Rhett’s waist and dance with him, kiss him stupid and take back the ludicrous baggage he’s bestowed on Rhett’s shoulders.

But he can’t. Not yet at least.

He’s anchored to the couch. Chained and he can’t break free.

He hates himself for it, he knows he’s wasting precious time.

Cruel time that’s ticking away.

They won’t be young forever. Rhett won’t be here forever.

But they have years, decades, left.

Don’t they?

The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to rip Rhett from him. Not when he’s the only thing keeping Link afloat.

Caring, beautiful Rhett.

Link shakes his head abruptly, not allowing his mind to tumble down that morbid pathway.

All too soon, the sun is setting through their patio doors, casting a golden glow over the living room.

It's peaceful.

It’s the universe reminding him, that life is beautiful. It’s precious.

He sits up, bones creaking and protesting under the sudden movement. His head swims, colours dance in front of his eyes and it makes him want to lay back down.

But he doesn’t.

He wobbles to his feet, discarding the blanket around his shoulders to the floor.

Earlier, he’d complained to the empty room that it was too scratchy, too warm. He didn’t need a blanket, he wasn’t a child, he wasn’t sick.

But now, he’s smiling. He thinks about how every morning Rhett replaces the blanket with a new one - fresh and laundered.

This one has tiger stripes, fluffy on the edges. Rhett had tucked it under Link’s chin before he left for the grocery store, he had playfully growled like a tiger in a silly attempt to make Link laugh.

He shuffles into the kitchen, ignoring the relentless scream in his mind to shut down again.

Rhett turns in surprise, his grand smile filling out his appled cheeks.

Link knows that look, it’s pride.

“There you are,” Rhett says softly, abandoning the wooden spoon in his hand.

Link curls into him, “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” Rhett’s response is instant, it’s easy and flows out of him unapologetically.

Link sighs, feeling a tiny piece of him slot back into place.

It’s the start of healing.

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