#Homemade cheese enthusiasts

[helengie]

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[hurtspideyparker]

The team learns about Peter's stress baking fairly quickly after he moves into the tower.

"Why does this place smell like cookies?" Tony asks suspiciously, "Pepper put an end to homemade care packages after that Cap incident."

Steve protests from the dining table, "Hey, that fan seemed totally normal. Y'know in my generation you do not mess with baked goods, that's sacred."

Natasha pats his back comfortingly as she joins the conversation.

"They came from the kid. They're actually pretty good, here."

Nat hands a still-warm cookie to Tony, who bites it curiously.

"Damn, it melts in my mouth like buttery ambrosia and still has a perfect crunch around the edges. Is that a nutty aftertaste?"

"Yes!" Peter yells from the other room, a clatter sounding before his head pokes around the wall, oven mitts still attached to his hands.

"I brown the butter, it really deepens the flavour!"

"Good on you kid. What's the occasion?"

Peter stutters, "uhhhh, no occasion. I just like cookies!"

He disappears around the corner again, and Tony sends a confused glance towards his teammates.

Steve shrugs his shoulders, mouth still full of cookie, and Natasha sends him an arched brow. Tony isn't sure what that means, but feels intimidated enough to exit the room anyway.

* * *

The baking lasts the rest of the week, until Peter comes home yelling, "I aced my calculus midterm!!!" Running out of the elevator with a stapled set of papers in his hand.

"So no more baking?" Nat asks neutrally.

"Nope! Woohoo!"

Just like that the kid is gone, jumping down the hall towards his bedroom.

Tony looks at Nat quizzically.

"It was midterm week. He baked 3 dozen cookies, 2 types of muffins, and a cheesecake."

"So he stress bakes?"

"He stress bakes."

* * *

It becomes a "thing" in the tower.

Sam eats toast from freshly baked bread one morning while watching Bruce quiz Peter on his upcoming AP history test. Each slice is cut, toasted, and buttered to perfection by Peter while he explains sectionalism in the 20th century.

* * *

Bucky grates carrots while Peter mixes a bowl of dry ingredients furiously, the boy mumbling to himself non-stop.

"Has he gone insane?" Clint asks from the doorway.

"Spanish oral exam," Bucky replies.

"Ay caramba."

"Tal vez pueda sobornar a mi maestra con glaseado de queso crema..." Peter starts mumbling. (Maybe I can bribe my teacher with cream cheese frosting...)

Bucky and Clint share a concerned look.

Clint approaches the boy, "put down the spatula Pete, let's talk about this."

Peter looks up in alarm.

"In English! Just English!"

* * *

"What's up kid? It's spring break, what could you possibly be stressing about."

Today Tony walks into a full kitchen; Wanda, Natasha, and Pepper are occupying the space while Peter pours something creamy into a metal bowl.

"He's asking MJ out tonight, so he's making cookies and cream ice cream in case it goes wrong." Natasha crosses her arms when she replies to him, eyes focused on Peter's mixing.

"Does ice cream even count as stress baking? The very meaning of 'bake' is to put under heat. But I suppose it does feel wrong to call it cooking."

Peter looks up, his brown eyes large and sad like a baby cow, "I still baked the cookies from scratch."

"Yeah he's a real Nara Smith!" Wanda adds enthusiastically.

"Oookay... I'll pretend I know what that means. And since when do we have an ice cream maker?" Tony points to the fancy hardware out on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, I got that for him. We lacked a lot of the tools for basic baking recipes," Pepper informs him.

Tony ponders how ice cream machines count as a basic baking tool, and decides not to argue with three powerful women and their favourite lovesick teenager.

Peter picks up his bowl and moves it into the freezer, clearing away a couple frozen pizzas and a bag of peas.

"Should I even bother with the cones?" Peter asks with a pout.

"Pete she's gonna say yes! Also if you're wallowing in misery with a tub of ice cream we still want our cones so we can emotionally support you with a crunchy treat," Wanda says with a supportive smile.

The others nod along.

"You're right!" Peter agrees before turning around and grabbing an honest-to-god waffle cone maker, with the cone shaping kit to boot.

"Why..." Tony begins to protest, "y'know what, I don't care. Let me know how it goes kid."

The man is ignored as he moves through the kitchen to grab a banana, the women coaching Peter on his manners, flirting, and first date ideas as he exits the room.

* * *

Thor hums around the delicious treat.

"Mmm. You know young Peter, you could have a shop for your creations. Is there a Stark Industries for baked goods?" Thor asks the young lad, crumbs falling from his mouth as he chews the cookie bar.

"I didn't invent the blondie Thor. I was just trying to explain what it is, a cookie brownie! I did decorate them all by myself though," he says with a satisfied grin.

"Ah yes," Thor lifts up another blondie by the pretzel stick Peter put in the squares, attached with a bit of melted chocolate so they're shaped like Mjolnir, "now you are all worthy of the hammer. Ha! This is funny, I'm sure the others will find your talents equally amusing."

Peter picks up his own mini-Mjolnjr and waves it around, "it is I, son of Odin. Don't worry puny Midgardians, I will protect you with my mighty hammer and beautiful hair!"

Thor laughs thunderously at the impression, clapping.

Bruce walks into the room, enticed by the laughter.

"Ah! My friend, Peter has made edible Mjolnirs so you, too, may be worthy. It's delicious and hilarious. Imagine Banner wielding my hammer, ha! Ridiculous," Thor is all too amused by the situation.

Bruce gives Peter an offended look as Thor continues laughing with himself, the younger just shrugging. Bruce takes one of the treats anyways, pointedly not holding it by the pretzel stick.

"Y'know Pete, have you ever considered opening a bakery? You are quite talented. I think the Avengers alone would keep you in business," Bruce asks politely.

"Well I only like to bake when I'm stressed. That wouldn't be a very stable business model," Peter points out.

"True. Although running a business can be quite stressful, so maybe you'd have a continuous supply?"

"Hm. Efficient and unhealthy," Peter nods like it's the perfect plan.

"Wow you really are Stark's intern."

Thor bursts out into another bout of raucous laughter.

"Imagine Stark wielding my dessert hammer," Thor barely gets the words out, "Stark being worthy-AH HAHA."

Bruce and Peter share a look of wide-eyed alarm before joining in on the laughter.

They all share the moment before Bruce straightens up a bit to ask, "what are you even worried about anyways Peter?"

Peter wipes a tear from his eye, "I forgot to call Aunt May this morning like I always do and she only let me move here if I promised I wouldn't neglect her. So now I'm too scared to check my phone."

"I see," Bruce sympathizes.

"Yeah, baking is good for procrastinating. I pretend I'm being productive while also creating comfort food for after my breakdowns."

* * *

Tony steps into the dining room one afternoon to find Peter slicing apples while Steve sits across from him cutting intricate patterns into pie crust. There is an array of leaves and flowers set out on the flour-sprinkled table.

"So is the ornamentation necessary, or is Cap also developing a delicious self-soothing habit," Tony inquires.

"I was just talking to Peter about pie recipes from the 40s and he asked if I could help make his prettier," Steve smiles up at his companions, "it's actually a lot of fun, I can't say I've ever used food to make art before."

"He's a natural talent Mr. Stark!"

Tony agrees with the quirk of an eyebrow and cheeky sideways nod. He observes for a moment before asking something that's been bothering him recently.

"Pete, I gotta ask. Why baking? You inherited your Aunt's terrible cooking skills, and it's not like you're built for other domestic duties. Your room is a mess. What gives? How are you so... refined?"

Peter pauses his chopping to look up incredulously.

"It's science Mr. Stark. Baking is just chemistry! I'm great at chemistry," he says with a grin.

Tony thinks about it.

"Huh. I guess you're right. So, what has you stressed this time? Girl troubles? You get too good a grade in P.E. and Flash is suspicious? Decathlon competition?" Tony lists off some of his previous turmoils.

He hopes it's the decathalon again, those butter tarts were divine.

"Um. Can I finish my apple filling before I tell you? I'll lose motivation if you start yelling at me..." Peter says with a hopeful smile, strain lying underneath it.

Tony's eyes narrow.

"Okay so I maybe blew up your test tubes when trying to develop fire webs and Dum-E may have covered your entire lab in fire supression foam."

Tony's jaw clenches, "I'm gonna let you stew in fear for a bit longer because apple is my favourite - if this was pumpkin you'd already be squashed - but best believe I'm not done with you yet." Tony slowly takes a deep breath before pointing a finger at Peter. "Never change kid, never change."

Tony leaves, distinctly in the opposite direction of his lab, and Peter goes back to slicing apples, now with a genuine smile on his face.

[kenzirr]

part 2 to the spencer imagine

@levi-of-starz

The BAU office was bustling as usual, agents hurrying about with case files and paperwork. Spencer Reid sat at his desk, engrossed in a book, when he suddenly looked up, a thought clearly lighting up his face.

"Did you know that the world's smallest bird, the bee hummingbird, weighs less than a penny?" Spencer announced to the room. "It's native to Cuba and measures just 2.25 inches from beak to tail."

Morgan, who was passing by, stopped and raised an eyebrow. "That's pretty cool, Reid. What got you thinking about hummingbirds?"

Spencer smiled. "It’s one of the facts Y/N shared with me the other night. We've been trading trivia back and forth, and it got me thinking. I want you all to meet her."

Garcia's eyes lit up as she walked over. "Oh, that sounds fantastic! When do we get to meet her?"

Spencer thought for a moment. "How about we arrange a dinner? I could invite Y/N, and we can all get together. I think she’d love to meet all of you."

JJ nodded enthusiastically. "I think that's a great idea. A nice team dinner would be perfect."

Hotch looked up from his desk, considering. "Sounds like a plan. I'll bring Jack along since I can't leave him alone."

Spencer smiled, feeling a wave of excitement and nervousness. "Great. I'll talk to Y/N and set everything up."

---

A few days later, the team gathered at Rossi's mansion, which he had graciously offered for the dinner. The dining room was elegantly set with a long mahogany table covered in a pristine white tablecloth. Crystal wine glasses sparkled under the chandelier's soft light, and the aroma of Italian cuisine filled the air as Rossi finished preparing the meal.

The centerpiece was an arrangement of fresh flowers, and each place setting had a small, handwritten name card. Spencer had even placed a few fun facts under each plate as conversation starters.

Y/N arrived a little after Spencer, looking both excited and a bit nervous. Spencer introduced her to everyone, and the team welcomed her warmly.

"Y/N, this is Derek Morgan," Spencer started, gesturing to Morgan.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Morgan said with a grin. "Spencer’s told us a lot about you."

"And this is Penelope Garcia," Spencer continued.

Garcia gave Y/N a big hug. "So nice to finally meet you, lovely! You look even more wonderful than Spencer described."

Spencer then introduced JJ, Rossi, and finally Hotch and his son Jack. Jack, clutching a small toy car, smiled shyly at Y/N.

"Hi, Jack," Y/N said, crouching down to his level. "What’s your toy’s name?"

Jack beamed. "This is Lightning McQueen. He’s really fast."

"Nice to meet you, Lightning," Y/N said, shaking the toy car's "hand."

They all sat down at the table, and Rossi brought out the first course: bruschetta topped with fresh tomatoes, basil, and a drizzle of balsamic glaze.

"Y/N, I hope you like Italian food," Rossi said, smiling. "I made some of my favorite dishes tonight."

Y/N took a bite of the bruschetta and her eyes lit up. "This is amazing, Rossi. Thank you so much for having me."

As they ate, the conversation flowed easily. Spencer couldn't resist sharing another fact. "Did you know that tomatoes were once thought to be poisonous? In the 18th century, people called them 'poison apples' because they believed the aristocracy got sick and died after eating them, but it was actually the lead in their pewter plates reacting with the tomato acid."

JJ laughed. "That's fascinating, Spencer. I never knew that."

Y/N joined in, sharing one of her own facts. "Did you know that butterflies taste with their feet? They have taste sensors on their legs and feet to help them find food."

Garcia's eyes widened. "That's amazing! I love butterflies, and I had no idea."

The main course was served: homemade lasagna, rich with layers of cheese, meat, and sauce. As they dug in, Hotch shared a story about a recent camping trip with Jack, and Jack excitedly talked about the wildlife they saw.

"Y/N," Garcia said, "how did you and Spencer meet?"

Y/N smiled, glancing at Spencer. "We met at a bookstore, actually. We were both reaching for the same book – a biography of Alan Turing."

Morgan chuckled. "Of course you were. That sounds like a perfect Reid story."

As they moved on to dessert – a decadent tiramisu – Rossi raised his glass. "To a wonderful evening."

Everyone clinked their glasses, and Spencer felt a warmth spread through him. The night had gone perfectly, and he couldn't have been happier.

After dinner, as Spencer walked Y/N to her car, she turned to him with a smile. "Your team is wonderful, Spencer. I had a great time tonight."

"Me too," Spencer replied, his heart racing. "Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to me."

Y/N leaned in, and Spencer met her halfway, their lips touching in a kiss that was soft and sweet. As the kiss deepened, Spencer felt a surge of warmth and happiness, losing himself in the moment.

Unbeknownst to them, the team had gathered near the window, watching the scene unfold. Garcia was the first to giggle, followed by a series of playful whispers and chuckles from the rest of the group.

Morgan couldn't resist. He opened the door slightly and called out, "Get a room, you two!"

Spencer and Y/N broke apart, both blushing furiously as they turned to see the team grinning at them from the doorway.

Garcia added, "We just wanted to make sure you didn't forget to say goodnight!"

Spencer, still flustered, managed a sheepish smile. "Thanks, guys."

Y/N squeezed his hand, looking equally embarrassed but happy. "Goodnight, everyone. Thanks for a wonderful evening."

As she drove away, Spencer turned back to his team, who were still chuckling and exchanging knowing looks.

Hotch clapped Spencer on the shoulder. "I think she’s a keeper, Reid."

Spencer nodded, his heart full. "Yeah, I think so too."

[luveline]

hihihi! request for zombie steve au! maybe someone at the college bullies reader into thinking she’s not good enough for steve?

just gotta say that I LOVE LOVE LOVE all your works & esp this au 😩 it just does something to me

hi thank you so much for your request! I didn't make it so severe as bullying I don't think, but tw for bullying just to be safe, and suggestive! tw mentioned weight loss <3 zombie!au steve 9k words

The dinner line is long and winding. You and Steve stand elbow to elbow, the smell of refried beans and homemade tortillas near hypnotising.

"I know the tortillas are gonna taste a little weird, I just don't care," you say, the hand you’ve curled around your boyfriend's forearm squeezing enthusiastically. 

"Imagine if they had cheese," he taunts. 

"Don't be evil, Steve." 

His laugh dissappears into the swelling sounds of a hundred conversations. It feels like high school, bodies packed into the same room like a bingo wheel, people bouncing off of one another frenetically as the night turns forward. There's a lot of happy energy in here tonight. You're contributing at least half. Not even Steve's unfortunate truths can get you down. Yeah, you miss cheese a lot, but after a full day in the pantry shift and close quarters to such gorgeous smells, you're ravenous. 

Your stomach gives a rumbling groan, and Steve's pressed so close to you that he can feel it. He wraps his arm around your shoulder to kiss the top of your head. 

His easy affection sates you for a while. You turn to watch the people already sitting with their meals, jealous but not too much, and find your happiness isn't grudging. You're happy to be here. You won't take this stroke of luck for granted, not again. 

You and Steve get your plates, refried beans, roasted greens seasoned with a vibrant red that smells spicy and decadent. There's definitely olive oil mixed in. You thrum with pleasure but wait patiently for steve to collect his own helpings, your cutlery, and finally, your drinks.

Robin sees you coming and waves you down unnecessarily. She's sitting with a dark-haired girl called Vanessa, and another girl you're unsure of. Vanessa had been part of your rescue squad, the team of people who'd fought to bring you back to The College. You'd show her some gratitude if she deigned to look at you. 

No matter how snooty you find her, Robin likes her. You try to like her too. 

"Hey," you say, putting your place setting down in front of Robin to encourage Steve to her side. 

He might downplay it but you know how much he loves her, and how much he'd missed her when they were separated. She's an extremely important part of his life. You wish he'd spend more time with her outside of scavenging and supply runs, but Steve is stuck to you like glue. It's awful and amazing. 

"Hi, killer," Robin says. 

You scrunch up your nose. "We're still using that?" 

"You were impressive!" she emphasises. 

Steve puts his drink down before his plate. She's quick to grab it, taking a generous swig as he grumbles and grouches. 

"Do you mind?" he asks. 

"I don't. Tell your girlfriend you think she was impressive!" 

"She knows exactly how I feel about her."

You smile at him. You know more than enough. He's a sweetheart through and through, and though the incident Robin's referencing hadn't been one he loved, he agrees; you'd managed to cut down six zombies all by yourself when they'd split off from a herd that managed to infiltrate community defences, and Steve had thought you were a rockstar. He'd grabbed you, covered in blood and sweat, and asked you why you couldn't just stay inside, and then he'd hugged you for too long, and said later, "My girl's a fucking weapon." Like a nerd. 

It's not complicated. Steve had been in danger. You'd wanted to save him, and you'd tried. Turns out he'd be the one to save you… for the hundredth time. But your efforts impressed him. 

Impressed everyone, according to Robin. 

"Hey, Vanessa," you say warmly. 

Vanessa gives you a strange smile in return. Despite mutual friends, Vanessa hasn't warmed to you. She'd been one of the only people who'd volunteered for your rescue squad but you're starting to think that hadn't been because she liked you, exactly. She just couldn't really say no. 

"Hey," she says. "How are you?" 

Civil you can do easily. You and Steve had been civil for weeks. 

"I'm good! Yeah, we heard there were gonna be real tortillas tonight and thought we'd get here early, but everybody had the same idea, I guess." 

She laughs politely. "We did." 

You wouldn't villainise Vanessa for disliking you. You barely like yourself. And, in your opinion, you'd gotten pretty damn lucky that Steve likes you as much as he does, though a small voice whispers that it'd been a grudging sort of love, like a flower squeezing its way through two panels of sidewalk. A weed that isn't supposed to be there. You worry often and in droves that Steve will come to his senses. He's gonna wake up one day, look at your sleeping face, and realise it isn't enough. 

When you'd first joined The College community, you'd thought for sure that was it. Steve was gonna trample your heart once and for all. He never did, of course. The opposite — he'd doubled down. Told you he loved you for the first time, and a second time, too. 

And now, miles trekked to get you back, his calf a blistering star of heat where it kisses your own beneath the table, your doubts fade away. 

Vanessa doesn't have to like you. That's not the way the world works. With Steve at your side, the rejection barely stings. 

You rub your shoe gently against his ankle. He looks up at you, a crazy amount of tortilla in his mouth, and he looks so silly you laugh hard and suddenly. 

He covers his mouth. 

"I thought you were looking somewhere else," he defends. 

"Pig," Robin says, still sipping at his cup of water. 

You rub his ankle again. A joke waits at the tip of your tongue, You're lucky I love you. It would feel good to say, but it's not your thing. You've never been outwardly romantic. 

His cheeks pink a little under the fluorescents. 

For Steve, you can be romantic. 

"You're lucky I love you," you say. 

There's too much emphasis on 'love', not enough on 'lucky', and the joke refuses to land. Your voice is softer than silk. It's all too sweet. 

"More than lucky," Steve says, grinning at you.

You try to put your glass of water on his tray. He puts its straight back on your own. 

"Robin's gonna go get me another one," he says. 

"I need one for myself," she says, unhappy. 

"You have two hands." 

"Will you get me a refill?" Vanessa asks. 

Christopher, another of Steve's fast friends, slams his tray down next to yours happily. Jonathan is right after him, and then the table's filling up with people: Jonathan's younger brother sits beside him, and the younger brother's friends follow. They're all glued together, you swear. You recognise Dustin in the throng, his chestnut brown curls crushed under a blue hat bragging the Claypole Farmer's Market, wherever that is. 

"Steve's getting drinks?" Chris asks.

"For me too, please," Jonathan adds. "And Will, if you don't mind." 

"I actually do," Steve says. 

"And us!" Dustin says, smirking. "Thank you, oh gracious one."

Steve looks at you for a second, slack-jawed. Can you believe this shit? He stands up, grumbling, and forces his hand between Robin's upper arm and chest to drag her with him. 

"Come on, Rob, I can't carry them by myself." 

"Steve, please, I'm tired," she moans, her words all lifted and croaky. 

"How'm I supposed to carry them by myself? Am I a fucking squid?" 

"I'll help," you say, happy to do it, anything for him and at any time. 

He puts his hand out to you, a universal gesture for Sit the fuck down. "Buckley will be more than capable." His smile softens. "Thank you." 

You pout at him very gently in a kissy face to watch him light up. It's cheesy and rom-com, and it works like a charm. By the time he gets Robin on her feet the tips of his ears are completely blushed, a stark red against the mousy browns and blondes of his hair. 

"Hey, Y/N," Chris says, mouth full of tortilla. Boys are all the same. 

"Hey," Jonathan echoes, and at least his hand is in front of his mouth, "how are you feeling? They let you back in the kitchen yet?" 

"They did. Hopper really didn't like that I broke the lock down rules, but at the same time, I think he understands that I'm a grown up." 

Lock down rules being, once a door is shut, it stays shut. Do not give a herd the opportunity to worm its way inside. 

But you'd made sure the coast was completely clear, and after Maybelle and Pauline, your fellow kitchen staff, had vouched for that, he'd let you off the hook, and back to work. You hadn't realised how punishing not working could be, especially when Steve had stayed on shift, his time split between scrounging outside of the community and fence duty. There's nothing to stop you from spending the day thinking about what-ifs, which is veritable torture. 

"You missed the kitchen? Did you make these?" Chris asks. 

You turn to your food and tear off some of the warm tortilla, sighing with pleasure. "No, I'm just kitchen pantry, you know? I'm sorta like an accountant. Like Dora in the armoury, or–" You nod at Vanessa with a smile. "Vanessa. You're in charge of the toiletries and stuff, right, with Cooper and Dean, and those guys?" 

She clears her throat. "It's more than 'toiletries and stuff,'" she corrects with a stilted laugh. "It's everything that isn't food. Medicine for the medic, the nursery supplies, the batteries. It's important." 

"No, of course! I didn't mean to imply anything else. I can't imagine." 

You're sure her smile this time is genuine. You and Vanessa can't seem to mesh because she's a little more serious than you are and your easygoing tone rubs her the wrong way, but you think your explanation makes it up. 

She opens her mouth to speak when Dustin leans over the table, projecting his voice down the line. "Y/N! Are you coming to cards club tonight?" 

"I don't know, babe," you say, startled at his question. "I thought so. If Steve isn't too tired then yeah, absolutely." 

"You can come without Steve," Jonathan says. 

"I know," you say, softly so you know he's grateful for the reassurance. 

"You're the only one who can beat Will at Yahtzee. You have wicked luck," says Mike, their pale, dark-haired friend, who usually rivals Dustin for hostility. You're glad he seems to like you. 

"Yahtzee isn't luck based," says Will. 

The entire group groans at the ignition of a familiar argument. 

"Robin, if you fucking nudge me again I'm gonna make sure this goes all over you," comes Steve's voice. 

You turn in your seat to watch their procession of glasses, at least six between them with not a tray in sight. Robin looks confident, Steve terrified. You jump to your seat to rescue him, taking his third glass from the nestling group so he can pick up his pace. 

"Thank you," he says, dipping his head down for a kiss. 

You're surprised but never not wanting to be kissed by him, your chin lifting on automatic to reciprocate. You chase him when he pulls away, turning one kiss into two, his lips the tiniest bit chapped against yours. It's a comforting pressure. 

You ease away. "Are we going to card club tonight?" 

"If you want to, of course we are." 

"You aren't tired?" 

"You're saying I look ugly." 

He glares at you, faux-offended.Your laugh is peeling, infectious to your own ears. 

"No!" you deny. 

"Right." He tries to be deadpan, sighing in defeat when he can't keep up the illusion. "Shit, I almost had it. S'too bad I'm a sucker for you when you smile like that." 

— 

Later that night, you and Steve are sitting around the very same tables that have been wiped down with a watery lysol, and you have an amazing three game Yahtzee streak going where nobody can beat you.

Steve's ears are ringing with the clattering sound of dice in the shaker, and he's freezing. It's a great night. He shrugged out of his jacket to lay it over your shoulders, and has to periodically readjust it to stop it from falling to the floor, your arms moving enthusiastically with each new shake. 

Steve winces as Dustin makes a fatal mistake. He’s used his two sixes to mark a 12 in the sixes column, holding out for a yacht.

"Dude, the chances of getting Yahtzee are like, one in a thousand," Steve says.

"One in thirteen hundred," you correct, already scooping up Dustin's die to take your turn. 

"One in seven thousand and seven hundred for each number," Mike says. 

"Ew," Steve says, face slumped into his palm, elbow aching where it's pushed into the table. "You fucking nerds infected my girl." 

"It's in the rule book," you say, shaking the circular dice container with your hand on top. You throw them out on the table and assess your given numbers with a frown. 

You have three threes and two ones. You keep the threes and shake the other two dice again. Yahtzee had felt complicated when Steve first learned how to play, and now it feels maddening. It's definitely luck based, in his humble opinion, and that has nothing to do with his never winning a game, he swears. 

"Does the chance of rolling a Yacht get higher if you keep the dice?" he asks, gesturing to your three threes.

"Yeah," you mumble, throwing your second shuffle out onto the table. "Yeah, but it's pretty negligible, handsome. Goes from point one to point two."

"It isn't negligible," Will denies. "It's probability, not luck, and it isn't point one, it's zero point zero eight, and it can be as high as zero point five. That's one in two hundred."

"That math isn't right," Dustin says. 

"Yes, it is."

"No, it isn't." 

You throw out your last shuffle and everyone leans in to see what you rolled. Your three threes are kept to one side, and your new rolls clatter to a halt in front of Steve. 

"Holy shit," he says. 

You rolled two threes. 

"Yahtzee!" you cheer, pumping your little fist adorably. Little in that it's smaller than his, and not very little in reality. "Alright, who's next?" 

"The game isn't over," Dustin says, peeved. 

You peer down his scorecard. He could win, theoretically, if he were to score multiple yachts, or if he'd been careful with his aces, ones, etc. 

"Nah, it is," Steve says. "Take it like a champ, Henderson." 

Dustin refuses to give up, playing until the end. You score a solid 319 to his less impressive 178. 

Steve robs your hand before you can agree to a rematch, forcing you to unfurl your tensed fist. He loves doing this — he presses the tips of his thumbs into the sides of one of your fingers and pushes down. It must hurt a teeny tiny bit but you never say a word, only giggle at his touch and lean toward him like you might tell him a secret. He would lament how much time he wasted being an asshole to you if he had the wherewithal. As it is, he's enchanted with you, and he isn't casual about it, pushing all of your anxiety down to your fingertips. He brings them to his mouth and kisses them each in turn. 

You pull your hand away. He thinks you're standing up to leave the table, but you're moving closer to him and straightening your back. He can picture the ache between your shoulder blades as it is between his own, the weird raw feeling, a tightness. 

"Want a neck massage?" he asks as you place your hand against his cheek. 

You brush your thumb over his stubble. "Do you want a neck massage?" you ask, unperturbed by his sudden question. His jacket threatens to slide onto the floor. 

"Are you offering?" 

"Not in cards club." You look over his shoulder. "We could play poker."

"The buy-in's too expensive." 

"What?" You frame his face with your hand. He's not sure you know you're doing it. "We can spare it, isn't that why we brought it?" 

Buy-in tonight is a bar of soap. Half the time everybody goes home with what they brought anyways, so you're obviously not worried. 

You squeeze his cheek and laugh. "You'd be cute if you were chubby." 

He grabs your hand, face warped by an irreplaceable joy, a delight to have you and be with you, a sparkling kind of lightness to know you're safe and happy here. He kisses your cheek, and says, smushed up against your skin, "You're cute." 

"Thank you." 

He hums. "So. Poker?" 

—

You have a small sink in your room with a hot and cold faucet, though no matter which one you choose, the water comes out cold. It chills your face as you scrub. When your face is reasonably wet, you lather the bar of honey soap Steve insists on keeping at the side of the sink between your fingers before dropping it imprecisely into your boyfriend's waiting palm. He laughs under his breath at the clumsy manoeuvre. 

You listen to him do the same as you had as you soap your face. You give special attention to your nose, your eyebrows, and your ears. Steve laughs again as you work a small towel behind them. 

"What's funny?" 

"Nothing." He holds his hand out for the towel, patting down his face with less ardency. He isn't less clean for it. "You have suds under your nose. Tiny moustache." 

He reaches for it with the towel, lifting your face with the back of his hand under your chin. His eyes are their forever warm brown, fixed on your top lip with a dedication that makes your baseline fondness for him surge. 

"I was pretty bad at poker, huh?" you ask. 

"No?" He dries a lingering stretch of dampness painting your cheek before dropping the towel behind the faucets. "You didn't win. Doesn't mean you were bad." 

"Vanessa said I should stick to Yahtzee," you tell him. You pause, wanting his input, and worried you're feeling offended by something that isn't inherently offensive. 

"Vanessa should stick to lawn darts," he says, chucking you under the chin. 

He starts to pull his pants down like it's no big deal. It isn't, not after so many months together, you've seen him do worse in worse states than this, but it feels forbidden anyhow to watch him climb into bed. 

"Could you pass me my sweatpants?" he asks, face turned into the pillow, his shoulders deflating.

"You're decompressing without me." 

"Am not." He pushes his hand under the pillow, shoulder blade shifting under his shirt noticeably. "Hurry and decompress with me."

You throw his sweatpants at his calves and he does a sort of vertical dance to put them on, one leg then the other, lifting his hips and dropping heavily back into the sheets when he's done. He looks at home. His relaxation catches you off guard, a pleasure to see even if it isn't strictly new. He feels safe here with you. 

"She's good at those darts," you say. 

"And shit at poker," Steve says agreeably. He lifts his head off of the pillow. "Are you coming in or are you gonna sleep standing up tonight?"  

You shimmy out of your stiff jeans and try not to feel the huge weight of his eyes on your skin. It's an impossible task, and you fail immediately. 

"Stop looking at me." 

"M'not." 

You glare at him, find him absolutely looking at you. Your glare fades when you realise how loving his gaze is, how it doesn't waver for a second. He pushes the sheets down on your side of the bed and waves his arm for you to get in. 

You pull on your pyjama pants and take off your bra, climbing into bed beside him. He wraps his arm around you quickly, or rather under you, his bicep crushed by your shoulders. Chills prickle against your skin as he cups the flesh just shy of your breast. If Steve wanted to touch you like that, he could. You want him just as much as you don't, content to cuddle with him, content to kiss like teenagers with nowhere to go tomorrow, content to do worse. He spreads his fingers over your torso, pinky nudging the underside. You'd let Steve touch wherever he liked, and he'd enjoy doing it, you think. That's a gift in itself such casual intimacy. 

"Vanessa, is she…" Steve's minty fresh breath pushes over your face like a small gale. "She's not picking on you, is she?" 

You like to be honest with Steve, and you want to be honest now — I don't know. But you hate thinking he'd have to look after you more than he does already. 

"No," you say, "we just aren't a good fit."

"Like a puzzle?" Steve asks sceptically.

"Guess my pieces are a little warped after spending so much time with you." 

He laughs like you're the funniest girl he's ever met, a big breathy sound with the punch of his voice behind it. "Guess they are," he says, hand climbing higher over your chest. "Is that a bad thing?" 

"Never," you say lightly. 

He smiles at you. You forget Vanessa's out of place comments, her weak smiles, her for-show friendliness in front of Steve. She doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things, and letting her dictate your thoughts in gorgeous, glowing moments like this would be a waste. 

"Love you," you whisper. 

Steve nestles into the space under your jaw. He doesn't fit but he does, of course he does, he's your everything. If that's where he wants to sleep tonight, so be it. You turn into his grasp to take the pressure off of his arm and return his gentle hugging, forcing his face closer so you can breathe in the smell of his hair. 

"Love you," Steve says. He kisses your neck chastely. "Turn the light off?" 

You reach back blindly and switch off the lamp. Everything will be okay as long as you have your boy. Right? 

—

Vanessa gets worse. She makes neutral comments with enough friendliness to make you wonder if she's truly being cruel? Am I just looking for a fight? What do I want? 

Maybe it's Vanessa's clear preference for Steve. You could be jealous. You aren't sure what jealousy feels like in relationships until she's touching him when she doesn't need to be and smiling at him like he hung the moon. She doesn't go overboard, though. She keeps her hands mostly to herself. She goes as far as to tell Steve that she thinks you're beautiful. 

You don't know how to explain your reservations to him if he can't already see it. If she'd really thought you were beautiful, surely that's something she could say face to face, rather than the unhappy little nod she gives you whenever you cross paths? Despite evidence suggesting it, you don't think Vanessa's trying to make a move on Steve. 

She's a bit of a bitch, but that's not a crime. Unfortunate? Yes. Illegal? No. Immoral? You aren't sure. 

It's her most obvious dig yet that manages to grab Steve's attention a second time since the poker incident.

"I couldn't let my eyebrows grow out like yours," she says, voice bubbly with a faked awe, "I think it's super cool of you."

"Vanessa," Robin says, eyes on her plate, an inquisitive twist to her voice that you've come to know as her sarcasm, "we're in the apocalypse." 

Steve, who'd seemed torn between speaking up and genuinely confused about the comment Vanessa'd made, chokes on his food beside you, soup dribbling down both corners of his mouth as he laughs. You wipe the corners of his mouth with your long sleeves.

"Jeez, you're like my baby," you say. Your voice is occluded by Jonathan's silvery giggles. 

Steve swallows roughly, "I resent that."

He still lifts his chin so you'll rub the bead that's escaped down his throat. 

Vanessa ends up laughing too, says, "I think I'm just crazy tired," punctuated with a high-pitched laugh. 

"Honestly, me too," you say, because maybe she is, and maybe she needs just a little smidge more benefit of the doubt. 

"I've been keeping her up," Steve says smugly. 

"He still making you read that King book? The Gunslinger?" Jonathan asks. "Will wants it whenever you're done." 

"Every night," you say. 

You're pretending it's a chore because that's what you and Steve always used to do. These days room for sincerity is much larger, but it's fun to give him a hard time when, at the end of the day, you'll crawl into bed together and tuck his face into your neck, flipping to the dog-eared page of your worn paperback to read in dulcet tones until he's a dozing weight warming your skin.

Steve looks for your hand under the table and lets your small group of friends laugh at him. Chris makes a whipping sound through the corner of his mouth. It's surprisingly accurate, and it makes you laugh worse, leaning your weight into Steve's arm for support in an action so familiar it's entirely thoughtless. 

"It's not that funny," he murmurs, breath tickling your forehead. 

"M'not laughing," you say. 

You are most definitely laughing. It's a good moment, even if Vanessa's comment sticks around underneath to nibble at your heart. 

He doesn't let your hand go for a really long time. Not when you're taking the plates up to the dirty dishes trolley, or on the walk back to Little Hawkins' with everybody in high spirits. He struggles to unlock your door one handed and he's still insisting when you try to tug away from him. 

"Let me make the bed." 

"We're getting back in 'n like, ten minutes." 

"You're tired?" you ask. 

"No. I just wanna lay down with you." 

He says it simply. Concise, with neither affection nor anything less. It's damn near factual. Steve just wants to lay down with you, out of everything in the world he could do. He could be haunting Robin's room, stealing snacks from under her bed and claiming them as bribes for not tattling on her to Hopper. He could be with Dustin in the new rec room —aptly labelled Nerd Club, when put to a vote— arguing on how to spend the valuable alloted half hour of TV time. 

He could stay with you and insist on other things. Reading. Self-defence. A walk around the community. Sex. An early night. A cold shower. 

But he's content to lay with you, to share one another's space without asking for anything else. 

Though you won't rule everything out. His kisses lately are a lot more than you're used to. 

"Let my hand go, you fiend!" you declare, overcome with a rush of affection for him. "I'm gonna make the bed and we're gonna lay down and then after that we're gonna go bother Robin." 

"You know, I'm not sure I like this you and Robin thing." 

You tug your fingers from his. It's like trying to escape a sticky fly trap. 

"You mean us being friends?" you ask.

You throw all of your throws and pillows onto the ground and grab your thick quilt, shaking it out over your mattress as Steve groans. 

"Exactly!" 

"I thought you wanted me to have friends?" 

"Of course I do, you word-twisting douche." 

"Nice, nice. Dustin or Mike?" 

"I stole that one from Will, thank you very much." 

"See! You have upwards of four friends, Steve, and I'm not allowed to have any?" 

He grabs you from behind. You drop the quilt with a sigh, going limp as a fish in his arms. He staggers backward under your dead weight but manages to keep you up, breath tickling the inside of your ear as he says, "No, you're not. Just me." He kisses your ear.

"I tried that and everyone got mad at me." 

"No, they didn't." 

They really didn't. You cover his arm with your fingers, rub your fingertips over the hill of his arm. His arm hair is soft. 

"Steve." 

"What?" he asks, his hands crawling down to cover your stomach.

"Don't squeeze me." 

"You're very squeezable." 

"I was way more squeezable before, remember." 

You'd lost some weight from the start of the apocalypse to now. Steve hates it. You're perfect, he'd said once, no matter what. But still, he laments your lost weight for what it represents — times where you and he had struggled to survive. 

"I'm working on that," he promises. 

You turn your face, shifting in the circle of his arms to meet his eyes. He has gorgeous eyes. You'd admitted that to yourself a long time ago but each time you really stare into them it takes a moment for it to settle. He is a pretty, pretty boy.

He's looking at you with a soft smile. Then, for a split second, you swear his eyes rove up to your brows. It's more than likely your imagination.  

"Let me finish making this bed," you say, turning back to the discarded pile of pillows and blankets. 

"You want your jammies?" 

You snort happily. "Yeah, sweetheart. Lay 'em out for me, please." 

—

For the last week or two, Steve has noticed a change in you. You've changed a lot since you met him (for the second time). You've gone from prickly and distant and somewhat distracted to determined, vigilant. You may not come on scrounging missions outside but you're brave, and you've survived more than he ever wanted you to have to go through. 

This change is distinctive. It's like you've reverted to how you acted when you were more friend than girlfriend; you're self conscious. 

He really hates it. 

He can't work out what he did, or what happened, but it sucks. He sucks. 

"There has be be something you want," he says. 

You're standing with him by the south fence. He and his team are about to head out for the shopping mall for as many blankets as they can carry. 

"I just want you to be careful," you say. 

You look tired. It's early in the morning, and you'd woken up earlier still. Your hair is freshly washed from a cold shower. 

You're still not comfortable showering without him, but of course the other girls aren't comfortable with him sitting in there when they're naked. You've had to schedule your showers for the dawn hour. 

"I'm gonna be careful for free," he says, pulling at a wet strand of your hair. He scratches lightly around your ear before hooking his fingers underneath it, his thumb drawing from your cheek to your lips. "Pick something you want and I'll find it. You know, Robs said we might be able to pass by a real small cherry garden on the way home. Do you–" He should know this. Why doesn't he know this? "Do you like cherries?" 

Thankfully, you laugh at his question and let your face fall into his hand. He thumbs your ear lobe gently. 

"I don't want anything at all. 'Cept for you to be extremely careful," you say. 

He pulls you in for a hug, smashes a messy kiss to your head, and tries to pull away because he's cool and the guys are watching. 

You're less quick. You rub your cheek against his chest. 

"Please, Steve," you whisper. 

He frowns. There's something you're not telling him. He wishes you would, but clearly you don't think you can. He's gonna try to do whatever it is he needs to do to get you there.

Steve takes your face into both hands. 

"I will be super careful, dummy. That's my middle name, I'm Steve Careful Harrington," he says. 

"I thought your middle name was Danger?" 

He kisses you. "No? Who told you that?" 

Your laugh is pretty enough to keep him smiling for most of the hike to the mall, until Robin says, mid sentence, "–Jeez, you're pathetic." 

Pathetic for you is something he doesn't necessarily mind being, but pathetic in general he cannot abide. He spends the rest of the hike stepping on the sides of Robin's shoes as she retells the plot of Murder on the Orient Express. Steve had seen the movie once but he's never read the original novel. Lucky him, Robin had an Agatha Christie phase when she was twelve, and she knows all the best parts. 

Hike is a strange word considering all of their walking is through steep roads. They move past rundown cars, streets and streets of abandoned houses scraped clean. There's an elementary school with a rusted playground in front. Vegetation has already started to spread through the packed wood chip flooring, and one of the swings has a broken chain. Steve hadn't realised how quickly human things fell into disrepair when attacked by the elements and left maintenance. 

The mall is a better example. Smashed glass lays around the entrance in tiny pieces like a huge back of upturned sugar, and bluegrass eats its way between paving stones. The team consists of eight people, including Steve, Robin, Christopher, and one of the College's co-leaders, a mister Jeremy Livingstone. They make their way carefully through the glass and grass in a wave of crunching footsteps to the front of the mall, where Steve wedges the flat blade of his knife between the automatic doors and works them open. When there's enough room for a second hand, Chris slides in beside him, and they work the doors open. Steve's biceps are burning by the time they're inside the mall. 

"Alright, guys," Jeremy says. "There's a bedding store toward the back of the mall. We'll go there first, and then we'll try to work through the list of requests. Blankets and sheets are our second priority. Staying safe and alive is first. Only grab what you know you can carry, you can bring back whatever you want, just… don't be greedy. Alright?"

They head out for the bedding store at the back.

"How much stuff can we carry?" Robin asks him. "I have weak arms. I'm a weakling." 

"Isn't there uh, a fancy storage place? We could drag a suitcase back." 

"For two hours?" 

"Is it two hours? Livingstone! You want me and Robin to grab some suitcases?" 

Everybody fills a suitcase with sheets and blankets in plastic wrap. The brand new stuff feels like a luxury, and Steve dibs a double mattress bedspread made of Egyptian cotton, knowing that'll make you smile. Now he's got your mattress up on those crates from behind the cafeteria, your room has really come together. Blankets and trinkets and sweet glassware. You have a small shelf of books, your clothes, your pens and pencils. 

Steve'll bring you anything you want, only you don't seem to want anything at all. 

He'll just… have to bring you some of everything. 

—

Your tears taste salty. You feel gross for licking a tear off of your top lip but nobody's around to see you do it; Steve might not be home until dark. You have time to get this upset out of your system. 

You'd been asked by Maybelle to swing by Armoury and Amenities, an unofficial name for the building where the community keeps the bulk of its collective resources, for a new propane tank. You'd gone inside, said hi to Cooper, said hi to Vanessa, explained why you needed the propane, and left. 

Or, you'd tried to leave. The propane tank was heavy, and the front door had been difficult to open one handed. You'd swung it open, quickly put your hand back on the tank to stop yourself from dropping it, and watched in frustration as the door slammed closed before you could worm your way out.

"She's the one who got, like, taken?" came Cooper's voice, pretty much as soon as the door stopped bouncing. His voice echoed from the next room.

"Sure, taken." 

You'd stilled instantly. 

"What, you think she wanted to go?" 

Vanessa sighed. "No, I don't think so. She didn't try very hard to come back, s'all I'm saying." 

"Chris says Harrington's infatuated with her. Like he's under a spell," Cooper said, chuckling.

"It's gotta be some kind of magic, she's… Well, God knows he'd have his pick if he came back to reality. You have the catalogue? I wanna note the propane before I forget." 

And that had been that. 

You don't understand why Steve loves you, sometimes. You know he does. It isn't up for questioning. Love with Steve is a lot of things — long talks in the mornings about anything and everything, his fingers tucking your shirt into your jeans. It's him pulling your hood over your eyes whenever he's behind you and laughing when you grumble. It's hiding in places you shouldn't be, hand in hand. It's miles of Indiana highway. It's heart-racing anxiety that one of you might not make it to the end. Love with Steve is a devotion: he takes care of you. He's taken care of you ever since you met. 

You haven't stopped to wonder if you deserve it in a long time. 

I don't, you think, half tears and all heartbreak. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve Steve. He's too good, the kind of good that starts life in the marrow of bones. He's sweet and soft-handed with a softer heart. He looks like a dream, and it shouldn't matter but it does. His voice is the only one you like waking up to, his lips hovering by the shell of your ear. 

Time to get up, dummy. Rise and shine, angel. Baby, come on. We slept in, loser, and you need to get dressed. Hey, are you listening to me? I miss you, wake up. 

"Y/N?" Steve asks, trying the handle. 

You flinch hard, and your heart jumps with you. A flip flop somersault feeling in your chest that plummets to your stomach. You scratch madly at your cheeks with two woollen sleeves and stand up as he opens the door. 

"Hey," Steve says, and he's safe, he's alive and well and home again. 

He stands in the doorway with a bulging rucksack on his back, windbreaker zipped tight to his neck, hair a windblown mess. His nose is red from the cold and his cheeks are ice-bitten, though the colour is coming back to his skin slowly. 

You don't feel as though you deserve him but you can't help yourself from springing into his chest, arms around his waist before he can blink. Before he can see the wet mess of your face, and your tear swollen eyes. 

"Hey," he says again, leaning a great deal of his weight over your shoulders. He sniffs your hair. "Hey  dummy. Told you I'd get home fine, huh?" 

You try not to breathe too loudly against his chest. The fabric of his coat is stiff and cold, a contrast to your heated skin. 

"Hey," he says, for a third time. This time it's all powdered sugar soft. Concern and exhaustion wrapped together. "I know, I'm sorry it took longer than usual. It's my fault, I wanted to get you something 'n' I made us all late coming home, I know you worry."

You don't answer again. You don't know how to explain it to him. You can barely understand it yourself. You cling to him and his solid mass until he gives in, his mouth pressed to your temple, his arms tightening behind your head. He shields you from the world for a handful of long, stolen minutes. There's nothing but his hugs, no sound to battle the plastic sounds of his windbreaker or the blood rushing between your ears. 

"I didn't mean to worry you," he murmurs.

You don't trust your voice to come out whole. 

He freezes under your touch. A slow hardening. His hands pause where they'd been rubbing short, featherlight lines. 

"I'm sorry," you say, enthusing your tone with some self-deprecating cheer.  "You're tired, I'm sorry. You wanna sit down." 

"I really do." He laughs. 

You peel away from him, the two of you sheepish and awkward and it's so unlike you, unlike him. You think you've made a fool of yourself as he takes off his rucksack, laying it carefully on the floor by the bed as you turn to your shared dresser and rummage through the top drawer for some clean clothes for him to take when he showers. 

You've freaked him out, and he thinks you're a weirdo, and he's gonna realise you don't deserve him and you never could. You're bad at nearly everything, and you're a total slob, and you should've tried harder to get back to him, and it's all your fault. Misery grips you and drags you down hard. It spirals, surface level comments from a shallow, jealous girl, they twist and twist until you feel wrung out and useless. And now Steve's home, and you're–

"Are you mad at me?" Steve asks. 

You wince and face him, his sweatpants pressed to your chest. "What?" 

"You're not talking to me, and you only ever used to do that when you were mad." 

You pass him his sweatpants, clear your throat. "Stevie, I'm not mad at you." 

"Then what's up?" He unzips his windbreaker, keeping his eyes on you. "I know it's something." 

You force yourself to keep a mild smile. You can't think of a lie — you don't want to lie. 

Steve frowns as your face crumples, a large palm leaping to the curve of your neck. 

"What's wrong?" he asks. 

You can't align this Steve with the one you knew in Hawkins. He's so different. Or maybe he isn't different at all, and you're lucky to see the depth of his feelings, the expanse of his goodness and his heart and his secret smile, corners pulled up and eyebrows pushed down just so. It says, You're okay, because we're gonna do this together. The world will keep spinning for us as long as we want it to.

"I had a bad day," you say. 

"Are you sure? I've seen you on some bad days, baby. This doesn't feel like that, you know? And I get that I don't always know what to say, but I promise I wanna know. Whatever it is that's been making you all grumpy." 

His smile glows, his eyebrows rising. His teasing tone toward the end of his reassurance is a lightness you cling to. 

Lately, everything has felt so heavy. 

"I'm worried I don't…" Even attempting to say it has your throat aching. You cover his hand with yours. "Steve, I– I feel bad lately. I feel like I'm bad." 

He shakes his head, strands of his brown hair unsticking to dance in front of his eyes. "You're not bad." 

"I don't deserve you." 

He stares. 

"Being with you now, having you look after me, I didn't deserve you when I met you." A tear gathers in the line of your lashes. "I don't deserve you now. I'm just me, I'm useless, and you don't have to be with me and I've," —you take in a shuddering breath, and step away from Steve's hand— "been trying to work out why you're still with me and it doesn't make sense. Why do you stay with me?" 

"That's a stupid question," he says. 

You try to swallow a lump. It stays right there in your throat. 

"I got a policy against stupid questions, remember?" 

"Steve…" 

He cuts you off, tangling his fingers with yours, and easing you close until his breath is warming your lips and you can see the honey-browns that circle his pupils. They feel bigger the longer you look at them. 

"How can you ask me that?" he says gently. "You know how much I love you… Right?" 

You nod and knuckle a tear off of your cheek. "I know," you say, and you're crying now, little bubbling sobs that wobble your shoulders. 

"Listen, if I haven't been showing it I'm sorry, and I'll prove it to you. I don't want you to question it."

"It's not you," you say, pressing your forehead to his collar, craving his comfort so much that you don't care if you don't deserve it. 

"Everybody knows that line is a lie," he says.

"I'm not lying. Everybody knows I'm the part that doesn't fit." 

"Who's everybody?" 

You try to backtrack and pull away, but Steve won't let you this time. "I'm just having a bad day," you say, "and you've had a long one–" 

"Stop it." Steve looks at you seriously. He takes your face into both hands, like he always does when he's worried. "I don't care if I crawled home with two broken arms, loser. I gotta know what's wrong. All of it. And you need to tell me." 

He thumbs at your damp cheeks. 

"Okay," you mumble, embarrassed and relieved at once. "I'll tell you."

You insist that he take his shoes off and stretch out in bed even though he's got dirty jeans on, and he doesn't wanna get your nest of throw blankets dirty, so he peels out of them and sits in his boxers at the top of the bed. You slide in next to him, and he works his arm over your shoulder, and you cry like a baby when he calls you honey under his breath. 

—

"And these are for you, too," Steve says, pulling a slightly smushed box of cherries from the bottom of his rucksack. 

You look beautiful. Afternoon sunlight drips in from a crack in the curtains, kissing up and down your smiling cheeks. Your eyes are still puffy, but your smile hasn't moved all morning. 

"You didn't get anything for yourself?" you ask, though any outrage for him you harbour is hidden by your awe. "I don't remember the last time we got fresh fruit, and you didn't even put them at the top of the bag." 

"You're such a whiner. Just try one." 

Your fingers play delicately over the punnet of cherries. The cherry garden had had a lot of supplies left to 'borrow', and after a sickly half an hour of him and Robin staining their teeth, he'd managed to grab a perfect box's worth for you. Perfect before they got squished, that is. 

"You should have the first one," you say.

"No," he says, and shoves the box at your calf. "They're for you. If you like them, I want you to eat all of them and throw up like a godzilla." 

"Not sure you're remembering that movie right," you murmur, plucking one of the cherries out of the box. 

You bite into the cherry and your eyes screw up. "Oh wow, that's sour. I don't…" You finish chewing, and Steve is rocketed to cloud nine when you go in for a second cherry, and then a third. 

Last night had been tough. Steve spent a long time talking you down from what'd been sewn into your head, and he'd pulled the truth from you in strings. Vanessa had been cruel to you on more than one occasion now, which Steve had known but not to the full extent, and her last comment had been too much. Steve, unapologetically, hates her. 

But Vanessa isn't the sole problem. 

You're having a really hard time. All of this has been so much for you. It is, in Robin's words, the fucking apocalypse, and between nearly starving to death and all the shitty things that have happened to you, he isn't surprised to find you're fragile. And he doesn't say fragile, meaning weak. He doesn't know a lot about the world but he knows the human brain and body isn't built for this. You're his girl, and you're hurting, and while he knows objectively this isn't his fault, he vows to do a better job at protecting you. 

He won't fail you again. He can't. 

He watches cherry juice escape out of the corner of your mouth. 

"You're cute," he says. "Where's the disposable? Pass it over." 

"You are not taking a photo of me right now, baby." 

"You look beautiful." 

"When will we ever get the photos developed, anyway?" you say, laughing, kissing juice off of your fingertips. 

He leaps for the camera and tussles you when you fight back. You laugh and lose, weak with giggles as he holds you away, his fingers pressing into the soft plush of your waist. 

"Jonathan does all of that stuff," Steve says knowingly. 

He gives you a little shove. You cover your face with your hands, words muffled, "Thought the camera was for me?" 

"We're sharers. We share things. Look, if you don't smile for me I'm gonna take a picture of you in your underwear." 

You throw your hands over your lap and he snaps a photo of your shy face. 

"Shithead fucking pervert," you say. 

Steve knows he's off the hook when you laugh. 

He's gonna give Vanessa the coldest shoulder anyone has ever given, and if she were a guy Steve would defend your honour in a more physical manner. He'd suggested a verbal defence last night but you'd begged him to never, ever bring any of it up to Vanessa or your friends. It startled him —you have nothing to be ashamed of— but he'd agreed. Whatever's gonna make you happy is, perhaps cornily, what he wants to do.

Right now, making you happy is gifts on the floor of your tiny shared bedroom, pantsless but, fascinatingly, with socks. He points the camera at your ankles.

You grab the new blanket he'd given you and drape it over your legs. "Pervert," you reiterate. 

He puts down the camera. 

"Not my fault they made you perfect." 

"Who's they?" 

Steve shrugs, and can't keep the smirk off of his face as he says, "They made every damn inch of you perfect, especially but not limited to your pretty eyebrows." 

Your smile settles into something more timid. You push your hill of gifts aside, careful not to spill your cherries, and walk the short distance on knees to wrap your arms around his neck. Your face fits into the curve of his neck exactly the way it always will. His hand cups your lower back. 

"Love you, Harrington," you say. 

"How much? 'Nough to let me have some of the cherries?" 

You shake your head gently, the tip of your nose bumping his Adam's apple. "No…" you say apprehensively. 

"No? You don't wanna share with me?" 

"No." Your mumbling is adorable. Steve wants to eat you alive, or at the very least kiss you until you turn to jelly in his arms. 

If he starts now, he can be done by dinner. 

"Five seconds to change your mind. After that I'm taking all of them by force. Five, four, three…" 

You shriek, and even your shrieking  is a sound he wants to hear. You drop away from him and grab the cherries, cornering yourself too fast as you stagger to your feet and hide by the desk. Shoulders against the cabinet, you grab up one of your rare books like a shield, and you glare at him over the cover. 

"You said they were for me!" you say, real panic in your voice. You know from experience Steve will tickle you until you can't breathe.

"They are for you! I love you," he says, words dripping with a false sincerity (though he loves you, undeniably). "I'm just trying to help you, sweetheart. You don't want my help?" 

"You keep your help away from me, beast." 

It doesn't take him nearly as long as he'd thought to melt you. He tickles you, and he steals a handful of your precious cherries, and when he kisses you dizzy it leaves red-pink splotches over the column of your neck, his smile temporarily printed into your skin. 

—

ty for reading <3 I hope you enjoyed, and if you did pls consider reblogging <3<3

[prettiercrier]

‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ late night pizzas

bf!matt sturniolo x black!fem!reader

synopsis — blurb of you & matt deciding to make late night homemade pizzas

genre: fluff

scar yaps — kinda struggled to make this 'fluffy' but i hope u enjoy:)

- you're both in the kitchen throwing suggestions back and forth on what to make for dinner tonight until an idea pops up in your head.

- you look over at matt while shaking his shoulder to get his attention, "we should make homemade pizzas!!"

- the two of you gather up the ingredients/supplies and set them onto the counter.

- you begin to separate the dough equally into two parts for you and matt.

- matt's eyebrows pinch together with confusion, "what're you doin'?"

- "obviously separatin' the dough for us, matt ...," you reply, looking back at him with the same confusion he had on his face.

- "let's just make one big one; we're both eatin' the same thing anyway."

- matt rolls the dough flat as you start to open up ingredients needed like sauce, cheese, & etc.

- once you're done you notice matt making the pizza into a certain shape. "um, matt."

- "yes, baby?" he says, looking up at you while curving his hands at the top of the dough to make a heart.

- the heart looks a mess though so you're still confused on what he was trying to make.

- "you do know what pizza's look like right?" you ask, trying to stifle a laugh.

- he deadpans you and sighs, "'course i do. 'm tryin' to make a heart, stupid."

- even though you're surprised that the shape he's trying to make is in fact a heart, you still find the idea sweet.

- you smile, "you're so cute."

- matt claims he's done with his horribly made heart and steps back to let you put the toppings on the pizza.

- you dip the spoon into the sauce (taking a little bit too much) and spread it onto the dough.

- matt looks at you like you're crazy.

- "damn, might as well put the whole thing on there."

- "matt, please shut up and help me."

- matt reaches over for the cheese and begins to sprinkle it onto the sauce while you're still in the process of spreading it.

- "matt, baby, look what you're doin'," you say, looking up at him as he brings his hand down to the cheese to grab more.

- "huh wha- oh," he says, realizing what he's doing. "my bad, baby."

- despite a couple mistakes, the pizza is finally done and is put into the oven.

- once the timer set on your phone goes off you call matt to get the pizza out of the oven.

- when he places it down, he asks you to get the pizza cutter and he begins to try and cut the pizza into slices. (his idea of making the pizza into a heart making it one hundred times harder.)

- matt hands you an oddly cut slice of pizza, "here you go."

- "thank you," you say, grabbing the slice from his hands.

- "alright, on three let's both take a bite," he tells you, looking into your eyes.

- you nod.

- "okay. one, two, three..."

- you both take a bite at the same time.

- "waittt, it's lowkey not that bad!" you said enthusiastically, smiling as you took another bite.

- matt swallowed the first bite, "yeah, i'm givin' up this youtube thing. let's open a pizzeria together."

- you looked at him laughing, "not gonna lie, i'd for real do it."

[dilfspitdrinker]

Let The Light In  | Joel Miller x reader

Description: You’ve been babysitting Joel Miller’s daughter all summer. No matter now much you try to deny it, you know you’re into him. But it’s just a little crush that you thought could never be reciprocated, until one fateful phone call. The shift between you two is irresistible, and you’re in for more than you ever anticipated. A/N: woohoo ch 4!!! I almost posted this from work I was so excited to get it out there. Once again thank you to everyone who's reading, literally come over here and gimme a kith ^3^ Masterlist

Chapter 4

You spent the rest of the day waiting for the call. Around 9:30 pm, you laid in bed, phone in hand, just staring at it. No matter how many possibilities you ran through, you truly had no idea what Joel was going to say. That can never happen again? Let’s just forget about it? Let’s hook up? Yeah right. There was no way he was interested in you like that. He was probably just into… casual making out? You pictured him doing the same with a random woman in a bar while you were at his house watching Sarah. The image didn’t quite fit. He didn’t seem like someone who would go for casual… but then again, it’s not like you knew him that well–

You jumped at the shrill ringing of your phone, fumbling and nearly dropping it on your face. You answered with an enthusiastic, “Hi!” grimacing as soon as it left your mouth. You sure sounded excited over a phone call that was likely going to end in disaster.

“Hey darlin’, how’re you doin’?” He sounded like he was in a good mood, as if there was absolutely nothing pressing to discuss.

“Pretty good, how about you?”

“I’m quite alright, thinkin’ about you.”

So what the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Against your better judgement, you went the flirty route, “Yeah? Been doing that a lot lately, or what?”

He chuckled, running a hand over his face. You didn’t even know how much of a hold you had on him. “Yeah, you do it to me darlin’.”

You were sure you had the biggest, dumbest smile on your face.

He asked if you’d eaten dinner, you told him about your favorite takeout spot. He talked about about a restaurant nearby with similar food, and you pressed the receiver closer to your ear. Even through the phone, his voice reverberated through your chest warmly. Warm and smooth like a good wine, you thought. With enough, you could get drunk on it.

“You mind looking after Sarah tomorrow evening? We’ve got a job that I think will run late.”

“Yeah, no problem!”

“Thank you darlin’, sorry for the short notice.”

While he talked about the job he and his crew would be working on, you stared absentmindedly at the friendship bracelet Sarah made you. The brightly colored strings created a sunset gradient. You used the same colors but a different pattern for hers.

You grew more anxious as you sensed the conversation winding down. You knew it was coming. He was surely letting you down easy with the small talk this whole time. In a matter of minutes you’d officially be too embarrassed to look him in the eye ever again. If you were lucky, he might just fire you.

“Alright darlin’, I don’t wanna keep you up too late. You have a good night now.”

You automatically returned the good night, because you didn’t know what the hell else you were supposed to say. Sure, you could've brought it up yourself, but-

As soon as he hung up, you rolled over and smashed your face into the pillow, groaning. You figured he’d want to pretend like it never happened, but not like that.

 *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * · *. * ·

You tried not to think about Joel the next day, which was a nearly impossible feat. Your mind constantly slipped back to the feeling of him holding you, so insulated from the world in his arms.

It was a mellow evening with Sarah. You cooked your homemade macaroni and cheese and forced her to have a serving of broccoli. The first time you made this recipe for her, she instantly declared it was her favorite food. And she wouldn’t admit it, but she liked the broccoli too, only the way you made it.

She finished the bracelet she promised her dad she’d make for him. It had the same sunset colors as yours and her own, but with a more complicated looking pattern.

By the time Joel got home, Sarah was in bed and you were on the couch, homework splayed out over the coffee table. You tried your best to look concentrated.

He kicked off his boots, “Sarah good today?”

“As always.”

He made his way over to the fridge, and you watched as he cracked open a beer. “You want one?” he offered.

You bit your lip, “I kinda do, but I’m hoping to finish this paper tonight.”

“What’s it for?”

“Philosophy.”

“You’re gonna need one,” he popped open another bottle, then sauntered over and set it on the coffee table in front of you.

You chuckled, taking a long swig, enjoying the coolness of it. You weren’t much of a beer person, but by the taste of it, Joel didn’t buy the shitty stuff.

He sat next to you, the couch cushion dipping, practically urging you to lean into his side. You chose not to.

You didn’t mean to drink your beer as quickly as you did, it just happened since you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself. You could hardly concentrate on your paper with Joel next to you, and you didn’t know what to say, so you just kept busy by drinking. The warmth that bloomed in your belly was enough to ward off the anxiety jitters.

Joel wondered if you were a lightweight when he noticed how your cheeks glowed pink. You looked so pretty, you pulled a smile from him without even trying, without even knowing. Your eyes were trained on a book sitting open on the table, but it didn’t seem like you were reading. He could only wonder what was going on in your head. As for himself, he was a simple man: he’d been dying in the heat all day, and the only thing he wanted was a beer and his girl.

In the back of his mind, it worried him how possessive of you he suddenly was. But in the front of his mind, his full attention was on the way your lips were wrapped around the bottle, neck exposed as you finished off your drink.

“Thanks,” you said simply. You wouldn’t look at him.

“Course.” He studied your demeanor for a moment, then continued in hopes of getting you more conversational, “You know, somewhere in there I got a recipe book for cocktails and all the stuff for it. Haven’t used it in a long time, think I should break it out again?”

“I do like a tequila sunrise,” you bit your knuckle.

Noted. “You like margaritas?”

You hummed in affirmation. Still not even twitching in his direction.

Time to quit the telepathy attempts, staring at you wasn’t getting him anywhere. He grabbed your chin, making your doe eyes look right at him, “What else do you like?”

No way to avoid his gaze now. You answered, wondering if he was even still talking about drinks, “Don’t know. Haven’t tried much else, guess I don’t go out enough.”

His thumb rubbed along your jaw. “Don’t mean to interrogate ya, but,” he threw back the rest of his beer and quickly set it down, shifting toward you on the couch, “what’s got you all shy?”

You froze, and you could’ve sworn even your blood stopped flowing. You found your voice, but not the words to go with it, “I- I just, I don’t know, I thought-“ you let out an exasperated sigh, “Nevermind. You’re right, we should just pretend like it never happened.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Who said we were doin’ that?”

You stared at him, fighting to keep the words from spilling out and making a bigger mess, “I thought… since we didn’t talk about yesterday, you’d rather just forget about it.”

He was stunned that you’d even think that. He made you think that? Well… what else were you supposed to think? Your only experience was with idiot boys doing one thing and meaning another. Of course you’d be confused, he was screwing around kissing his kid’s babysitter and leaving with no explanation. Knowing he needed to right this immediately, he released your chin and took your face into his hands, “No, no, I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear with you. Forgettin’ about it is the last thing I want.”

You looked up at him, eyes full of sweetness and youth and too-good-for-him. He knew it was selfish to want you, to rob you of regular college relationships and get you tangled up with a single dad. But who was he, if not a selfish man at heart?

He leaned in and captured your lips.

You could hardly believe it. Had he wanted this – you – the whole time? Him kissing you in your apartment yesterday wasn’t just some weird way of consoling you? Now that you thought about it, it was almost laughable how much doubt you let seep into your mind, when it was really so simple. You two fucking kissed. And now you were kissing again, and it felt like you’d gotten a second chance at life. And yet your hands remained frozen in your lap, aching to touch him, but still afraid of taking it too far. Whatever that meant at this point.

He whispered against your lips, “There’s no need to be shy, baby.”

You readily took that as permission to let go of your worries. Your lips melded together again as you freed your hands to roam his chest and shoulders. Those broad shoulders that you wished would just engulf you already. You drew his bottom lip between your teeth, feeling how the corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

“There you go,” he encouraged.

You were obsessed with the way his lips slotted so perfectly against yours. With the size of his hands as they pulled you closer. The heat radiating off his body.

A few sheets of paper noisily fell from the coffee table, making him break the kiss. He set them back in their place. “Sorry darlin’, I’m distracting you from your work.”

“It’s not getting done tonight,” you crawled over him.

His hands found their place on your hips, eagerly squeezing. You hungrily took his tongue into your mouth, shamelessly delighted at the way it swirled. You were hovering over him, but he pushed your hips down until you were sat on his thigh. His heart quickened as you rested your weight on him. He had to remind himself to not press his fingers into your flesh too hard. But it was just hard enough to have you struggling to keep your composure.

He said breathlessly, “Let me take you out.”

You paused, thinking you hadn’t heard him correctly, “What?”

His confidence wavered, but he wouldn't back out now. “Let me take you out on a date.”

You pulled further away to get a good look at him, “You want to?”

“Of course I do,” his brows furrowed, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged. Truthfully, you thought even if this thing advanced, he’d treat you more as a side piece. Not in a disrespectful way, you just didn’t expect him to… date you. You were babysitting his kid, and way younger than him, and those were just the two biggest reasons. You thought he wouldn’t be interested in anything as time consuming and emotionally investing as dating, especially not dating you.

The sound of a door opening made you two practically jump away from each other. No one emerged from the hall, but there was another sound of a door opening and closing. Joel sighed quietly in relief, “She’s just going to the bathroom.”

“I’ll get out of here,” you stood and quickly gathered your things.

He grabbed your hand, “Hey, I’m serious. I’ll call you tomorrow. And shoot me a text when you get home.”

“I will,” you promised, and without giving yourself another second to hesitate, sealed it with a kiss. You almost wanted to laugh in disbelief. A goodnight kiss, like you were together or something. 

It hit you on the drive home. No fucking way. You and Joel fucking Miller just made out on his couch like fucking teenagers, and he asked you out. What kind of date was this going to be? Classic dinner and a movie? Fancy wine and dine? Something more outside the box and spontaneous? It excited you to think about how little you still knew about him, and how much more you’d soon find out.

Chapter 5

Masterlist

[yakuzacanons]

hello once again prefacing with saying i love ur blog and ur headcanons :3 tbh amongst all the relationship hcs this one feels almost odd to ask but idk this is what i care about: what kind of cake flavours do u think the fellas like? if u were gonna treat em to something or get them a birthday cake, u gotta know what theyd like, right?

Last one for tonight, also anon how did you know I've literally been musing on this idea ever since I first started this blog? Same braincell fr fr. Your mind is huge and wrinkly and powerful. Long one since this now includes characters all through Yakuza 7. Enjoy!

Also, INBOX IS OPEN AGAIN. I finally have less than 10 asks so I feel comfortable taking more on. Hit me with em.

Kazuma Kiryu

Most people think he doesn't like sweets, but in reality he's just kind of neutral on them. Grew more accustomed to them when Haruka was younger as she really liked them. More than anything he's just baffled and really touched that you'd want to treat him to cake of any kind.

He likes simple cakes, preferably without frosting or a lot of decorations. Things like bundt cake or castella cake are great choices for Kiryu.

Majima Goro

Also kind of shocked that you'd want to treat him to cake but also at the same time is very excited at the prospect at being treated to cake. If you surprise him with some, he'll give you a big hug and a very enthusiastic thank you.

Tends to lean towards richer, darker flavors. Chocolate cake with a simple dark chocolate frosting is great for him. Also enjoys Black Forest cake, if you can find it.

Saejima Taiga

The poor gentle giant cannot remember the last time he had cake. It's not really something they serve in prison. Genuinely treasures the gesture and really savors it.

Honestly hasn't got a favorite. Likes cakes with some texture to them, like carrot cake. Does get easily wowed by fancy decorations or toppings.

Akiyama Shun

Out of all the boys, the most likely to return the favor of treating you to cake immediately the next time he sees you. The others would save it for an occassion but Akiyama would immediately pay you back by treating you to your favorite cake.

He's a sucker for Devil's Food cake or Red Velvet cake. Likes cream cheese frosting as it provides a nice tart contrast to the sweet intensity of the cake itself.

Tanimura Masayoshi

People rarely treat him to much of anything so he's giddy as all hell to be treated by you. Would totally love to treat you to your favorite meal on your next date as a thank you. He'd treat you to cake himself but he doesn't really know where to get good dessert. He's better with savory foods.

Likes fruity flavors, especially if they're leaning towards citrus. Pineapple upside down cake or a lemon cake would be good.

Ryuji Goda

His position means he's been treated to a fair share of desserts but it means a lot coming from someone that he personally and emotionally cares about deeply. If you make him a homemade cake, he would be speechless.

Likes cakes with some creaminess of some kind, like Boston Cream Pie (which is in fact a cake despite the name) or any kind of cheesecake.

Nishikiyama Akira

Says something like "Ah, for me? You shouldn't have!" but inside he's like "Oh wow, they got me cake? I don't know if anyone's ever done that!" and he's really happy.

Impressed by cakes with fancy layers inside, like opera cake or battenburg cake. Crepe cakes are also a good idea. Cakes with fillings are also nice. He's more about what's inside the cake than outside.

Daigo Dojima

Similar to Ryuji, his position has shown him a fair share of desserts or birthday celebrations. However, someone treating him personally is a little new. If you make him something homemade, he might actually cry a little.

Partial to coffee flavored things. Although it's not a cake in the most traditional sense, he does like tiramisu. However, a regular coffee cake is also greatly appreciated.

Mine Yoshitaka

Probably the only boy that is kind of opposed to cake. He appreciates the gesture but he just doesn't have a sweet tooth. However, as long it's milder in flavor and not intense in sweetness, he will eat it.

If he had to pick a favorite cake, he'd go with Baumkuchen as it's pretty popular in Japan and easy to get. The sweetness is pretty mild and he likes the vanilla taste as it's not super saturated.

Shinada Tatsuo

Has the strongest sweettooth out of all the boys, even more than Ichiban. Just happy to be having cake with you, honestly. You don't have to be fancy with him either. In fact, fancier cakes are kind of lost on him so don't go getting him something complex like you might do for Nishikiyama.

He's a little embarassed to say it as he thinks it sounds girlie for some reason but he likes strawberry shortcake. Victoria sponge cake is also good, as it's basically the same flavor profile but built slightly differently.

Kasuga Ichiban

Second most fond of sweets of all the boys. Type of guy to share cake with all of his friends. He's more about enjoying it all together than eating the whole cake by himself, if that makes sense.

Genuinely has no preference over what kind of cake you get. Ichiban's got a pretty open mind when it comes to food. He likes the texture of chiffon cake the most as it's super light and fluffy. When it comes to flavor, he likes the caramel taste of flan cakes a lot.

Joon-Gi Han

A sucker for a pretty and aesthetic dessert. Likes his cake almost too pretty to eat. Similar to Nishikiyama in that he will hide how excited he is to be having cake with you.

Likes chocolate cake the most in any form. As long as it's chocolate flavored in some aspect, whether it's the cake itself or just the frosting, he likes it. Dobos cake or Sachetorte are great if you really want to impress him.

Tianyou Zhao

Prefers Eastern style cakes to Western style cakes but will eat both. Actually likes more bite size desserts like cupcakes or moon cakes.

For flavors, he likes coconut or mango cake. A box of really nice moon cakes will also do but it must be at the appropriate time during the year or else he's going to wonder why on Earth you're giving those to him. Also fond of those pineapple cakes from Taiwan.

[mariacallous]

Noodles and cottage cheese was the defining dish of my childhood. I think of it as the Eastern European version of boxed macaroni and cheese — a culinary staple of youth. Whenever I bring up noodles and cottage cheese in conversation, it always elicits a strong reaction: either there is an immediate enthusiastic nostalgia associated with it, or instant confusion and/or disgust. I’ve found little neutrality on the subject.

The polarity of responses inspired me to do more digging on the subject of this dish’s origins. At first, I thought noodles and cottage cheese must have started out as deconstructed kugel. Sources cite that noodle kugel originated in Germany about 800 years ago. The point at which cottage cheese entered the picture remains unclear. There is no evidence that kugel birthed noodles and cottage cheese or vice versa. In fact, in our home we had noodles and cottage cheese, but we never had noodle kugel. While the origins of the dish are murky, noodles and cottage cheese is still fairly commonly eaten across Eastern Europe in and out of Jewish kitchens from Poland, to Hungary, to Russia. Both my parents grew up in the former Soviet Union, and both remember being fed this dish, albeit with farmers’ cheese (a close cousin of cottage cheese). In the United States it can be found being prepared in many Jewish American kitchens, even in the homes of families that have lived here for a few generations.

In Yiddish, the dish is called “lokshen mit kaese,” and you can track down recipes made with homemade lokshen (noodles). That said, recipes are generally scarce and arguably they’re not needed. The dish’s essential components are obviously noodles and cottage cheese; but preparations vary with the addition of fried onions, or sour cream, or butter, or copious amounts of black pepper. In non-kosher cases you’ll find that bacon is often added. The type of pasta that is used is up to the cook. You can make it with bow-ties, macaroni, penne, fettuccini or whatever you prefer. It tends to fare best when made with a pasta shape that has nooks and folds that can grip onto the cottage cheese, and with a cottage cheese that is smaller in curd.

When I was growing up, my mom would make noodles and cottage cheese several times a week, and often the leftovers went into a Tupperware for my lunch the next day. She had a unique style of making this minimalist dish. Her preferred noodles were penne or fusilli, and her preferred technique was to drain the pasta, add it back to the hot pot, add cottage cheese, and lastly she’d add tons of grated Parmesan – her not-so-secret ingredient. She would stir everything together until a makeshift cream sauce formed around each noodle. She developed a reputation among my friends for making the best noodles and cottage cheese.

It wasn’t just at home that I enjoyed this dish. I vividly remember my first sleepover at a friend’s house. We never actually went to sleep, and her parents came into her room multiple times to scold us for giggling and staying awake. The next day we groggily played until we were fed lunch. We sat down to the table and were served big heaping bowls of noodles (shells) and cottage cheese. After a sleepless night, being served such a familiar dish away from home was instantly comforting. I ended up spilling the entire contents of the bowl all over my lap and onto the floor, much to the chagrin of my friend’s parents. This was not the first time shame was linked to this dish.

I grew up going to Jewish day school, but for high school I attended a public school that had only a handful of Jewish students. It was there that I uncomfortably learned that not everyone thought noodles and cottage cheese were so great. I’ve always been curious about food that can bring us shame and comfort in equal measure: I’ve often found that foods that we were mocked for eating when we were young are often the source of great pleasure as adults. Those of us who come from immigrant families might have been made fun for our family’s “strange” or “smelly” foods. By and large, immigrant food tends to be food that has come from necessity. We use what we have and make the most of it; that includes organ meat, all the fish parts, funky flavors, strong spices, fermented vegetables and inexpensive dairy products. And that same food that we might get teased for is often the food that we love the most. OK, so noodles and cottage cheese is not nearly as daring as a fish head stew or a cow tongue sandwich, but it’s still not a mainstream dish.

Why do so many people think it’s so strange? Is it cottage cheese’s inherent bad rap? Is it due to mixing something cold with something hot? Is it the lack of flavor? I needed to make it again, and I needed to make it for someone who had never tried it before. Conveniently, my husband never grew up eating noodles and cottage cheese.

I went to the store and picked up a container of small-curd 4% cottage cheese and a box of bow-tie pasta. Once the pasta was cooked and drained, I put it back in the hot pot. The second the cottage cheese touched the bow-ties, a familiar smell hit me, taking me back to my parents’ kitchen. I instantly got hungry. Stirring the cottage cheese into the noodles, a sauce started to form. I seasoned it with generous amounts of salt and pepper, and a spoonful of sour cream. I filled two small bowls, and while still standing over the stove my husband and I took our first bites. For him, a fan of both pasta and cottage cheese, it was clearly disappointing. “That’s it? I don’t know about this…” he thoughtfully chewed. But he kept eating. He finished the small bowl, and then he had some more. That’s when I realized part of the appeal of noodles and cottage cheese: It grows on you. On its own, it’s not very exciting, but its cumulative effect is satisfying. For me, I took that first bite and instantly felt warmth. It tasted like home.

[steddiejudas]

STWG Daily Drabble 9/25/23

prompt: making a meal

Eddie never really learned to cook. With the salary he and Wayne live on, he’s used to heating up cans of soup, Spaghettios, maybe some toast if he’s feeling like a gourmet. But Steve, damn, the man can make a meal. The first time Steve cooked for him, Eddie thought he’d died and gone to food heaven, promptly passing out on the couch with his boyfriend and a full belly as soon as they finished eating. Eddie wishes he could return the favor, but he’s pretty sure canned tomato soup and burnt grilled cheese sandwiches don’t equate to braised pork chops, rosemary roast potatoes, and homemade rolls. 

Tonight Steve is making Eddie’s favorite. Penne alla vodka with homemade garlic bread. Eddie doesn’t typically consider himself an overly emotional person, but as he sits in the kitchen watching Steve hum to himself and grate fresh parmesan, he could cry. 

“What’s wrong babe?” Steve asks, concern lacing his beautiful features. 

“Nothing, angel. I just love you.”

“I love you too, Eds.” Steve sets the cheese grater down and walks around the island to curl into Eddie’s embrace, leaving little kisses on the sensitive spot behind Eddie’s ear. Steve loves to kiss that spot, teasing giggles out of Eddie’s pretty lips. “But seriously,” he whispers, “You’ve got your thinking face on.”

Eddie sighs, easing into the warmth of Steve. “You always spend so much time cooking for me while I just sit here and watch. I feel bad.”

“Don’t feel bad! I love cooking for you, I thought you knew that.”

“I did! I mean, I do. I just wish I could return the favor.”

“You return other favors,” Steve says with a wink. 

Eddie groans. “Steve, that was horrible.”

“Sorry.” Steve leaves one last kiss, featherlight and promising on Eddie’s cheek before pulling away. “If you want to help, I can show you some things.”

A splitting smile erupts over Eddie’s features, nodding enthusiastically as he jumps up to help. 

“Alright, I'm almost done with the sauce, but you can get the bread ready. Can you mince up some garlic while I melt the butter in a saucepan?”

“Yes chef,” Eddie quips, giving Steve a little two finger salute. He makes quick work of chopping up the garlic the way he’s seen Steve do it countless times and throws it in with the melted butter. “Okay, now what?” 

“Now we turn the heat down and let the flavor infuse for a couple minutes. Like making edibles.”

“Alright,” Eddie says. “Like edibles then.”

It only takes about 20 minutes after Eddie adds in his own ingredient and pushes the concoction through a cheesecloth for the butter to firm back up to spreadable over the still soft loaf of french bread Steve was keeping in the warming drawer. They plate up their meal and eat at the table, smiling at each other through flickering candlelight, conversation flowing easily between them. They finish and Eddie gets up to clear their plates. 

“Uh, Eddie?” Steve asks from his seat at the table. 

“Yes my love?”

“I think I’m high? No, definitely high. Why am I high?”

“Stevie you said… like edibles? Was that not? Did you not mean to add weed to the butter?”

“Eddie… no.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” And then it hits Eddie too and, oh shit, yeah, he added wayyy too much. Which means it’s only a matter of time before Steve–

“It’s okay. You can make it up to me right now. Upstairs.”

“You frisky little freak.”

“What can I say?” Steve winks, running towards his bedroom. “I learned from the best.”

[ilovewhiteroses]

Do You Want What I Want?

Pairing: The Corinthian x Ryan (OC) Genre: Fluff, smut Warnings: Unprotected sex, cursing Rating: 18+ Note: My dear friend, Catchy @i-like-the-eyes gave me idea for this fic, plus they inspired and named Ryan🥰

Ryan, a young musician went out with his friends, but ended up spending the rest of the night with a handsome, interesting man…  

It was a pleasant evening and the annual summer carnival was taking place in the small town. Lots of people went there, no wonder, because one could spend their time well. Ryan, a young lutenist, went with his friends who were artists themselves. Among them were painters, singers, photographers and illustrators.

As soon as they entered the event, they immediately noticed the stalls with handmade works and homemade delicacies. They went over there and some admired the wonderful wood carvings and decorative objects, while others tasted the drinks and cheeses made by the locals. They began to think about what their next stop should be.

"I know! Let's go drive bumper cars and then eat cotton candy!" exclaimed Leni, the painter, enthusiastically. Ryan and the others agreed and after spending their time there, they went for a carousel ride. The young man enjoyed the evening, he felt as if he had flown back to his childhood.

"So guys, what should we do now?" he asked his friends a bit later. There were so many other things they wanted to try that they decided to split up and everyone would go where they want to and then meet at the entrance when they are done. Ryan quickly found the restroom, which was surprisingly quite cultured, then went back to explore the carnival. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, checked it and saw a new email. The surprised lutenist sat down on an empty bench to read it.

We'd be honored to have you as our musical guest at the annual Music For The Youth event, where we present kids the beauty of music.

He smiled to himself, since lately he has been getting more and more requests and he was very happy about it. While he was on his phone, he heard a man's voice.

"Hello! Can I sit here?" he asked politely and Ryan looked up. Standing in front of him was a tall blond man wearing slacks and a suit jacket, a stylish contrast to his black t-shirt and jeans combination.

"Um, sure, you can sit down." he answered him. As the man sat down, Ryan quickly put the phone back in his pocket. The man crossed his legs, settled himself, then offered his hand to Ryan.

"My name is Cori." he said as Ryan shook his hand and introduced himself. "Your name is beautiful. I'm glad to meet you. Did you come to the carnival alone?” Cori asked.

"No, I came with my friends, we just split up for a while because everyone wanted to see things and try them." Ryan replied, rubbing the back of his head embarrassedly. He never really liked to communicate with strangers, but at the same time, he didn't want to be a jerk by turning the guy down with some silly nonsense.

"Oh I see." Cori said with a big smile and pushed the sunglasses up his nose with his index finger. "Is there a part you haven't been to yet?"

Ryan found the man's directness strange, he didn't understand why he was so nice to him. What’s the worst that could happen? He had previously taken a few Krav Maga classes, at most if he thinks the situation is suspicious, he uses what he has learned.

"Well, uh, I haven't been to the shooting gallery yet." he replied, then looked at the man's sunglasses, which made him want to slap himself on the forehead. Before Ryan could say something else, Cori jumped up from the bench enthusiastically.

"Then come, let's not waste time!" Ryan also got up from the bench and was thinking that there must be a good reason why Cori is wearing sunglasses even at night.

They arrived at the agreed location and the target shooter told them the rules.

"Okay, gentlemen. You have to shoot with this toy gun, which has sponge bullets. You have to hit these fast-moving wood ducks, but you have to be clever, because only the ones with the number wins. Well, which one of you wants to try his luck?” he asked, rubbing his palms. Cori raised his hand.

"Excuse me for asking, but are you sure about this?" Ryan asked in shock. "Aren't those sunglasses too dark?"

"Don't worry, I can see perfectly, and my other senses are also extremely sophisticated." Cori replied with a laugh.

Okay then, Ryan thought to himself and put his hands in his pockets. Target shooting guy handed Cori the toy gun, then stood aside. Cori stretched out his arm and waited for the numbered winged animals to come, then shot. After a while, he got so into the game that he even stuck out his tongue a little and fired all the bullets. Ryan was very amused by this sight, he thought it was pretty cute. The shooting gallery man showed him and Cori what prizes there were to choose from.

”Is there anything you would like, Ryan?” Cori asked kindly.

The musician started thinking. The selection was not too exciting, especially for an adult, as most of them were designed for children. In the end, Ryan decided on a red toy guitar, because it somewhat reminded him of a lute.

He started to feel more comfortable with Cori, he even went to have hamburgers with him, and found himself forgetting about his friends and what they agreed on. He quickly wrote in the group chat that he was tired and took a taxi home.

"I hope this is not a problem for you." Cori said a little worried.

"Oh, don't worry, it's happened before, they'll understand." Ryan told him, and with that, he silenced his phone. Now he just wanted to focus on Cori.

He found him very fascinating.

"Speaking of going home, would you like to walk home with me? If you’d like, we could have a few drinks, then we will see." he said with a suggestive smile. Seeing this, Ryan gulped, but was excited at the same time.

It was clear what Cori wanted.

"Okay, let's go. How about I leave this guitar here? I don't need it anyway." he told Cori, who shrugged, thinking Ryan does what he wants. As they made their way out, Ryan set the small instrument down by the entrance so a child would take it.

The streets were already dark and only the street lamps were on. Ryan wished he could see more of Cori's face because he liked what he had seen of him so far. As they got closer and closer to his apartment, Ryan's heart began to beat faster. They talked on the way. He found out that Cori is a businessman whose goal is to visit as many places and gain as many experiences as possible. There was also talk of instruments and music and, for some reason, dreams and nightmares, which Ryan didn't know what to think of, but he didn't care. He enjoyed listening to Cori, while thinking how hot his speaking voice was, how beautifully his lips moved when he spoke, when Ryan managed to catch him in the lamplight, how graceful his hand movements were while he was explaining... Ryan suddenly felt so hot as the sexual tension was getting more intense between them. He also started to feel his pants getting tighter...

They got to Cori's apartment and went inside, but he didn't turn on the light, the only source of light was the moon shining through the window. Ryan was looking for the switch when Cori pulled him close in the dark and slowly leaned him against the wall.

"Do you want what I want?" he whispered sultryly in his ear, then kissed his neck, which made Ryan’s knees almost giving out.

Of course he wanted it! Ryan had one-night stands before, but felt that this time would be different...

They began to kiss passionately, then Cori reached down to Ryan's erection and began to gently massage it. Ryan did the same to him while kissing his neck. He wanted the blond man so much that he could barely contain himself. He pulled his top off, Cori did the same, then knelt down in front of Ryan. He unbuttoned his jeans, then pulled them down to his ankles together with his underpants. The musician's dick popped out.

"Fuck, you have a nice cock!" Cori said panting as he began to jerk off Ryan, then took his cock into his mouth. Other times he did it much more sensually and slowly, but this time he was too overcome with desire. He took hold of Ryan's cock at the base with his index finger and thumb, then began to suck it, sometimes licking his balls as well. Ryan enjoyed this all with his eyes closed and ran his hands through Cori's hair. He felt close to explosion, and even though he didn't want to cum yet, he couldn't take it anymore and came, Cori could barely swallow the hot result. He took the spectacular penis out of his mouth and looked up at Ryan.

"Damn, baby, that was a lot!" he said appreciatively.

"Fuck, that was hot!" Ryan said panting, gasping for air. If the blow job was this good, how fucking amazing could sex itself be, he thought to himself. Cori stood up and pulled off his pants. Since Ryan was a bit shorter than him, he had to figure something out.

"Get on all fours!" he instructed the young man, who did so. Cori pulled his ass towards him, then grabbed his cock and slapped it against Ryan’s entrance. Before inserting it, he spit into his palm and smeared it over his cock, then slowly inserted himself into his partner. Cori let Ryan adjust to his size. Just like with the blowjob, he fucked fast, he didn't want to be gentle and slow. He wanted wild and crazy sex and he got it. Ryan's knees were pressing against the hard floor, but he didn't care. His ass slammed against Cori's thighs as he reached down to his own cock and began to masturbate. He felt that he was close again, but this time he didn't want to orgasm as quickly as before.

"Wait!" he said to Cori, who paused for a moment. "I want to ride you." Without further ado, Cori pulled out of him and laid on his back, Ryan got up from his position and placed himself on top, letting Cori’s cock back into himself. He raised his knees, put his arms behind him and continued to fuck himself on Cori's cock, who grabbed Ryan's cock and started jerking it. The apartment was loud with their lustful moans, both of them were sweating as if they had run a marathon. Minutes later Ryan was cumming on Cori's belly, and Cori was cumming into Ryan….

Ryan woke up in his yesterday night partner's bed. Cori wasn't there, so he went to look for him in the kitchen and the living room, but he was nowhere to be found. Ryan quickly got dressed and left the apartment. Although he regrets not being able to say goodbye to the handsome, blond man, he was glad that they had a crazy, sexy and fun night together.

Tags: @merry-andrews,  @demi321win-chester

@thefloatingpickle, @delicateteenagerunaway

@sadnessanninthedark, @e-dubbc11

@rayisheree, @tampire

@itsthevelvetline, @moomiman42069

@evenmyhivemindisempty, @a-h-li

@enkelimoonstone, @i-like-the-eyes

[indigostreaking]

Headcanon of the day: the boys cooking.

Jake: Jake is always either in the kitchen or watching the food network and taking notes any time he’s home for very long. You’d walk in after a long day of work, only to find him standing over a pot and stirring with his hair pulled back and an apron on. His eyes would light up when he saw you as he beckoned you closer with a motion of his hand. “Hey, beautiful! Come taste this and tell me if it’s ready,” he’d say gently in his usual raspy voice. His smile would widen as he held out the wooden spoon to let you take a tiny sip of his homemade barbecue sauce. “Holy shit! You made this?” You’d ask enthusiastically, knowing how much he loved hearing you praise him in any way.

Josh: Joshua is a terrible cook simply because he’s never had to learn. He’d get the occasional urge to “try his hand” because “it can’t be that hard if Jake can do it.” You’d offer to help, but he’d shoo you out and insist on doing it alone. You’d sit anxiously in the living room watching tv and listening to him hum and sing anything that popped into his head. “Okay..are you ready for my masterpiece?” He’d ask proudly from the other room. You’d hop up and walk in to see a covered plate already placed at your usual seat. He’d make a big show of dramatically lifting the cover only to reveal a half burnt grilled cheese, and you’d look up to see him blushing and smiling sheepishly. “It’s vegan since I shouldn’t have dairy..and I burnt it a little, but at least I didn’t catch my hair on fire!” He’d finish with a laugh as he fluffed his curls. “It’s perfect, honey,” you’d reply as you took a bite, making sure to mask how not perfect it actually was. He’d catch the lie, but appreciated it nonetheless as he thanked you with a soft forehead kiss.

Danny: Danny prefers baking. He likes the structure and organization of it all. Sometimes you’d wake up to sounds of him singing in the kitchen and drumming on the counter. You’d walk in to see his hair in a high bun and a dusting of flour covering his beautiful face. He’d blush and apologize profusely for waking you, but you never minded. You’d sleepily walk over to him and wrap your arms around him, swaying to the quiet music he had on. He’d pull you closer, inhaling your scent as if he was saving it and locking it in his memory for later. You’d feel him start to lead you through a familiar dance through the kitchen letting the both of you get lost in the music. He’d eventually slow and pull away just enough to cause you to look up at him, then he’d lean in and kiss you deeply. “Missed you so much, sweetheart,” he’d mumble softly into the kiss, and you’d sigh as the oven timer went off forcing him to pull away. You’d smack his ass gently when he bent over to pull the cookies from the oven, and he’d giggle and flush the lightest shade of pink. Then the two of you would cuddle on the couch, snacking on cookies and watching him play video games until you fell asleep in his lap.

Sammy: Sam is an amazing cook, but he treats anything he makes like an experiment. He’d rummage through the cabinet to see what there is, then decide to make the fanciest thing he could think of. You’d sit at the kitchen island watching, just mesmerized by the chaos of it all. Every single bowl and utensil would be piled in the sink needing to be washed, but you didn’t care as long as you got to see the smile spread across his face when he tasted his creation. “Wanna taste?” He’d ask with a smirk. You’d nod and open your mouth, waiting for him to deliver a spoonful. He’d laugh and shake his head before turning back to his work. “Where are your patience, Princess?” He’d taunt you playfully, causing you to roll your eyes. “Quit being such a tease, Samuel,” you’d reply snarkily, which only made his smile widen. You both undeniably loved the banter. You’d settle back into your spot, only sighing or yawning occasionally to let him know you thought he was taking forever. He’d place the plate down in front of you with a singsong “tada” and a big smile. He’d watch anxiously as you took a bite, then he’d explain the dish as if he was on one of Jake’s cooking shows. He’d repeat the process as you tried each individual thing, then he’d ask for your honest opinion on all of them, making mental notes for the future. He’d then thank you, and start the process of cleaning up, refusing any offer you made to help. “Aht aht, sit back down, princess. I’ve got this under control,” he’d smirk again as you frowned but complied.

[natasha-in-space]

Do you play Stardew Valley? If so, RFA and the Minor Quartet (as I once told @rfaromance , Rika gets to join the boys in their club lol) in a Stardew AU? (LOL that rhymed)

I decided to categorize them in different professions so that I wouldn't go too off course with my thoughts! Writing this just really made want to pick up my Stardew Valley save...

Yoosung

Shepherd. We all know that Yoosung has a major soft spot for animals. And what better way to incorporate that than to give him some friendly barn friends to take care of? His lighthearted demeanor is sure to earn the trust of every furry friend that he decides to take under his wing, and all of his animals are always in pristine condition. It's a hard work, but he enjoys it to the fullest. He knows everyone's personality and gives them goofy names (some of which are definitely suggested by Saeyoung). Yoosung also loves cooking, and that way, he always has some natural produce at his disposal! It's not just human food he focuses on, his sheep and cows get occasional treats as well. Does he maybe spoil them a bit too much? Maybe. Will he stop? Of course not!

Zen

Blacksmith. I don't know, it just fits him for some reason. I bet you he's the most popular blacksmith in town, with everyone gathering around his shop to gawk at his work and his gorgeous looks all the same. I mean, can you imagine Zen tinkering away at various geodes and tools with his hair tied in a messy bun and his muscles seen clear as day due to this job being a physical one? Yeah, that's a dangerous thought to have. There's just something about Zen wielding a sword or any metal tool that's just so flattering to me. He prides himself in his work and you don't have to worry about him messing anything up. He's ready to play the knight in shining armor for you any time!

Jaehee

Tapper. What can be better than a warm latte with some homemade maple syrup? That's literally the only reason why I chose this profession for her lmao. I imagine her working part time as a tapper, stocking up on all that she may need for her cafe and putting all that she foraged to good use. Still, her maple syrup latte us definitely one of her most popular drinks, simply because it is so incredibly delicious.

Jumin

Mariner. Kind of an odd choice for him, but I can imagine Jumin getting really into sea life! Thing is, he won't be catching anything for profit or food. A super out-there idea, but I want him to establish an aquarium. This way, Elizabeth the 3rd can have her fun with all the fishes, all while the townsfolk gets to enjoy the beaty of marine life in a safe and educational way. I'm bending the game's rules here, but I just really like the idea of Jumin enthusiastically talking with his friends about all kinds of marine life for some reason.

Saeyoung

Defender. Saeyoung is definitely the type who loves the thrill of discovering new areas and going out on adventures. Stocking up on items, observing new creatures, figuring out clever ways to get to his goal... That's definitely up his alley. On other days, he most certainly spends some quality time fishing. We know how much he enjoys that! I honestly see him being very multifaceted, since it eventually gets boring to repeat the same routine over and over again. So, it's not unusual for him to try out new things in order to just relax and have fun with his loved ones.

Jihyun

Artisan. Another odd choice of mine. There's just something about our thoughtful artist spending his time on carefully creating the best of the best wines, cheeses ect. It's an art in and of itself. He finds beauty in creating something with your own hands, and what better way to incorporate that than to pursue an artisan profession? His first tester for his products is definitely Jumin and you can find them chatting absentmindedly over glasses of wine quite often! In his free time, Jihyun focuses on his paintings, channeling his admiration for the peaceful world around him into his art.

Saeran

Agriculturist. Yup, a pretty obvious choice for sure, lol. What better way for Saeran to spend his time than to grow crops and take care of his personal garden? That has 'Saeran' written all over it. His garden is always neat and tidy, and his plants are in pristine condition. They're more than just plants to him, though. He loves his flowers and crops with his whole heart, and you can find him telling them stories and caressing their leaves with an affectionate smile on his face every once in a while. Needless to say, the plants reciprocate his love wholeheartedly. His garden is flourishing, and so is our cottagecore husband.

Rika

Gemologist. Rika has a keen eye for details and beautiful things. I actually think she'd enjoy taking care of and researching about all different kinds gems and minerals quite a bit! I don't think she'd venture mining, though. Rather, she'll get her produce from second hands or Saeyoung and take over things from there on. She has a bright smile that can charm every customer that comes into her shop, and the way that she speaks about every individual gem will capture all of your attention right away. Finding beauty in even the blandest of minerals is something worth admiring Rika for. She's often giving away pretty gems to kids visiting her shop to stare at gawk at the colourful stones. Bringing a little magic into everyone's mundane life is a job she loves with all her heart.

Vanderwood

Lumberjack. I don't know, they just seem like the type to enjoy their peaceful alone time in the woods where no one will bother them too much. It's a physical job as well, so we know they're up to the task! Vanderwood is a master at orienting the forest and finding the best places to chop down some trees. They do make sure to keep the forest clean and healthy, though. After they get enough produce, they'll leave some time to take care of the wildlife and check if anyone messed things up here or there. Just imagining them relaxing on a freshly made stump after a hard day at work, closing their eyes and listening to the quiet sounds of the forest around them... Yeah, it makes me smile for sure :)

[tellamista]

100$ Domino's pizza Card

Indulge in the Pizza Art: Unlock the Ultimate Pizza Experience with a $100 Domino's Pizza Card Who doesn't love pizza? It's the perfect combination of flavors, textures, and aromas that can instantly uplift our mood and satisfy our cravings. Whether you're a dedicated pizza enthusiast or looking for the perfect gift for a pizza lover in your life, a $100 Domino's Pizza Card is the gateway to a world of cheesy, saucy, and delicious possibilities. As I explain further, we will explore the wonders of pizza art, the joy of pizza gifts, the convenience of pizza coupons, the allure of pizza places near me, the convenience of pizza delivery, creative pizza ideas, delightful pizza toppings, and even reveal the secrets of making a mouthwatering homemade pizza sauce and pizza dough recipe.Pizza art is not just about culinary mastery; it's an expression of creativity and passion. Pizza chefs around the world transform simple dough and toppings into edible masterpieces. With a Domino's Pizza Card, you can witness and taste these culinary creations for yourself. Explore the vast menu of specialty pizzas, from classic Margherita to adventurous combinations like BBQ chicken or buffalo chicken with blue cheese. Each bite is a work of art that ignites your taste buds and transports you to a world of culinary delight.When it comes to pizza gifts, the Domino's Pizza Card is a perfect choice. Whether it's a birthday, anniversary, or any other special occasion, giving the gift of pizza shows your thoughtfulness and consideration for the recipient's taste buds. With a $100 Domino's Pizza Card, your loved ones can celebrate their special moments with their favorite pizzas, creating memories and savoring the deliciousness that only pizza can offer.Now, let's talk about the convenience of pizza coupons. Domino's Pizza is renowned for its fantastic deals and discounts. By using the Domino's Pizza Gift Card, you gain access to exclusive promotions and discounts that will make your pizza experience even more satisfying. Whether it's a buy-one-get-one offer or a discounted bundle with sides and drinks, you can enjoy more pizza for less. Stretch your dollar further and relish in the joy of delicious savings.Curiosity piqued? Wondering about the pizza places near you? With Domino's extensive network of locations, finding a nearby Domino's is a breeze. Whether you're at home, work, or exploring a new city, you can always satisfy your pizza cravings. Utilize the store locator feature on the Domino's website or app, and discover a pizza haven just around the corner.On those lazy nights when you don't feel like leaving the comfort of your home, pizza delivery becomes your best friend. Domino's Pizza excels in delivering piping-hot pizzas directly to your doorstep. The convenience and speed of their delivery service ensure that you never have to compromise on taste or quality. Simply redeem your Domino's Pizza Gift Card, place your order online or through the app, and get ready to enjoy a delicious pizza feast from the comfort of your own couch.Looking for some pizza ideas and toppings to elevate your homemade pizza game? With the Domino's Pizza Gift Card, you can draw inspiration from their mouthwatering menu and create your own pizza masterpieces at home. Experiment with a variety of toppings, from traditional pepperoni and mushrooms to gourmet options like fresh basil and prosciutto. Unleash your inner chef and customize your pizzas according to your personal taste preferences.To truly elevate your homemade pizza, the secret lies in the sauce and dough. Impress your friends and family with a homemade pizza sauce that bursts with flavor. Simmer tomatoes, garlic, herbs, and a touch of sweetness to create a sauce that complements your toppings and brings your pizza to Life.

[surprisepresentsworld]

Gift Box Ideas for Couples

A gift box is a thoughtful and personalized way to present multiple gifts to a couple. Here are some ideas to inspire your next gift box creation:

Experience-Based Gift Boxes

Weekend Getaway: Include vouchers for a local spa, a cozy inn, or a romantic dinner. Add a personalized itinerary or a map of the area.

Adventure Package: Fill the box with tickets to a concert, a cooking class, or a hot air balloon ride. Include a personalized note with suggestions for activities.

Relaxation Retreat: Pack the box with bath bombs, candles, and a cozy blanket. Add a book or a subscription to a streaming service.

Personalized Gift Boxes

Hobby-Inspired: If the couple shares a hobby, curate a box around it. For example, for gardening enthusiasts, include seeds, gardening tools, and a gardening book.

Shared Memory: Create a box filled with items that evoke special memories. This could include photos, tickets from a concert they attended together, or a piece of jewelry with a meaningful inscription.

Future Plans: Fill the box with items related to their future plans. If they’re planning a wedding, include save-the-dates, wedding decorations, or a honeymoon planning guide.

mystery box for men

Gourmet Gift Boxes

Wine and Cheese: Pair a selection of gourmet cheeses with a bottle of wine. Add crackers, nuts, and a cheese knife.

Chocolate Lovers: Fill the box with a variety of chocolates, from truffles to bars. Include a chocolate-making kit or a book about the history of chocolate.

Tea and Coffee: For tea and coffee enthusiasts, include a selection of loose-leaf teas or gourmet coffee beans. Add a tea infuser or a coffee mug.

DIY Gift Boxes

Handmade Items: Create a box filled with handmade items, such as knitted scarves, painted artwork, or homemade candles.

Personalized Photo Album: Design a photo album filled with pictures of the couple and their shared experiences.

Subscription Box: Create a subscription box with a monthly theme. For example, a “Book Club” box could include a book, a cup of tea, and a reading journal.

mystery box for women

Additional Tips for Creating a Gift Box

Consider the couple’s interests and personalities.

Choose a theme or a color scheme to create a cohesive look.

Add a personal touch, such as a handwritten note or a custom-made label.

Package the items neatly and securely.

Consider the occasion and the couple’s relationship stage when selecting gifts.

beauty mystery box

By following these tips, you can create a thoughtful and personalized gift box that the couple will cherish for years to come.

surprise box

[foodloveslondon]

Ali’s Deli Cafe: A Cozy Hub for Fresh Flavors and Friendly Service in London

Located on Barking Road, Ali’s Deli Cafe has quickly become a local favorite, offering a delightful blend of international dishes, fresh coffee, and a warm, welcoming atmosphere. Known for its diverse menu and friendly service, this charming cafe provides a perfect spot for breakfast, lunch, or an afternoon coffee break. Whether you're in the mood for a hearty meal or a light snack, Ali’s Deli Cafe has something to offer for every taste.

A Menu That Satisfies Every Palate

Ali’s Deli Cafe is renowned for its variety of international dishes, all prepared with the freshest ingredients and a focus on quality. From traditional British breakfasts to Mediterranean-inspired meals, the cafe caters to a wide range of culinary preferences. The menu is carefully crafted to ensure that every dish not only tastes great but also nourishes the body.

Start your day with one of the cafe’s popular breakfast options, such as the full English breakfast, complete with eggs, bacon, sausages, and all the trimmings. For a lighter option, the freshly baked croissants and pastries pair perfectly with a cup of Ali’s signature coffee. If you're looking for something more substantial, the cafe’s lunch menu features a selection of sandwiches, wraps, and salads made to order with your choice of fresh ingredients.

Coffee and Beverages: A Perfect Brew Every Time

Ali’s Deli Cafe takes great pride in its coffee, serving freshly brewed cups that are sure to please even the most discerning coffee enthusiasts. Whether you prefer a rich espresso, a frothy cappuccino, or a silky latte, the baristas at Ali’s ensure that each cup is brewed to perfection. For those who enjoy a bit of variety, the cafe also offers specialty coffees, complete with flavored syrups and seasonal twists.

In addition to coffee, Ali’s Deli Cafe has a wide selection of teas, juices, and soft drinks, making it an ideal spot for a refreshing beverage, whether you’re meeting friends or taking a quiet moment for yourself.

Homemade Goodness in Every Bite

What sets Ali’s Deli Cafe apart is its commitment to homemade, fresh food. The cafe prides itself on preparing dishes from scratch, ensuring that every meal is full of flavor and made with care. The selection of freshly baked pastries is perfect for those with a sweet tooth, offering options like cakes, muffins, and cookies, all made in-house.

For lunch, the artisan sandwiches are a must-try, made with your choice of fresh bread and packed with high-quality fillings such as roasted meats, cheeses, and vibrant vegetables. Each sandwich is crafted to offer a balance of flavors and textures, providing a satisfying and delicious meal. The wraps, too, are filled with flavorful ingredients and are a lighter option for those on the go.

A Welcoming Atmosphere for Everyone

Ali’s Deli Cafe is more than just a place to eat—it’s a community hub where people come together to enjoy great food and friendly service. The interior is cozy and inviting, with comfortable seating and a relaxed vibe that makes it the perfect spot for a catch-up with friends, a quick lunch break, or simply enjoying some quiet time with a cup of coffee.

The cafe’s staff are known for their warm and welcoming approach, always ready to greet customers with a smile and ensure that everyone feels at home. This personal touch has helped Ali’s Deli Cafe build a loyal customer base that appreciates not just the food, but the overall experience of dining here.

Affordable Prices with Exceptional Value

One of the key reasons why Ali’s Deli Cafe has become so popular is its commitment to offering high-quality food at affordable prices. The cafe believes that great food should be accessible to everyone, and this philosophy is reflected in its menu pricing. Whether you’re ordering a simple coffee or a full meal, you can enjoy top-notch food and drinks without breaking the bank.

Takeaway and Delivery Options Available

For those who are on the go or prefer to enjoy their meal at home, Ali’s Deli Cafe offers convenient takeaway and delivery options. Every order is carefully prepared and packaged to ensure that the food arrives fresh and ready to enjoy.

Visit Ali’s Deli Cafe Today

Whether you’re a local or just passing through, Ali’s Deli Cafe invites you to experience its fresh, homemade meals and signature coffee in a warm and welcoming setting. With its diverse menu, friendly staff, and commitment to quality, Ali’s Deli Cafe is the perfect place to relax, refuel, and enjoy the best of what London has to offer.

Visit Ali’s Deli Cafe today and discover why it’s become a favorite in the community.

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Music City's Best BBQ Joints: Where to Get Your Fix

Nashville, famously known as Music City, is not just a haven for live music and historic landmarks but also a culinary destination with an impressive BBQ scene. For corporate groups seeking to experience the city’s unique flavors, a BBQ tour offers a delightful and interactive way to bond while savoring some of the best smoked meats and tangy sauces the South has to offer.

Here's a guide to the top BBQ joints in Nashville that should be on your corporate group’s itinerary.

1. Hattie B’s Hot Chicken

Location: 112 19th Ave S, Nashville, TN 37203 Why Visit: Famous for its Nashville hot chicken, Hattie B's offers a spicy twist on BBQ. The chicken is fried to perfection and coated in a fiery seasoning that’s sure to impress even the most ardent BBQ enthusiasts.

What to Try: The "Hot" or "Damn Hot" chicken, paired with classic Southern sides like mac 'n' cheese and collard greens.

2. Martin's Bar-B-Que Joint

Location: 410 16th Ave S, Nashville, TN 37212 Why Visit: Martin’s is a staple in the Nashville BBQ scene, known for its whole-hog barbecue. The laid-back atmosphere makes it a great spot for groups looking to relax and enjoy a hearty meal.

What to Try: The "Whole Hog BBQ" platter and the famous "Pork Shoulder Sandwich," complemented by their delectable homemade sauces.

3. Peg Leg Porker

Location: 903 Gleaves St, Nashville, TN 37203 Why Visit: The restaurant’s rustic charm and strong local reputation make it a great spot for a group outing. The owner, Carey Bringle, is a seasoned pitmaster whose expertise ensures a memorable BBQ experience.

What to Try: The "Dry Rub Ribs" and the "Pulled Pork Sandwich" are favorites, paired with southern-style sides like baked beans and potato salad.

4. Edley’s Bar-B-Que

Location: 2706 12th Ave S, Nashville, TN 37204 Why Visit: Edley’s offers a contemporary take on traditional BBQ with a focus on local ingredients and inventive recipes. The vibrant atmosphere and stylish decor provide a modern twist that’s perfect for corporate groups looking for a more upscale BBQ experience.

What to Try: The "Brisket" and "Burnt Ends" are must-tries, along with their unique "Southern BBQ Sundae," which layers pulled pork with classic BBQ sides.

5. Jack’s Bar-B-Que

Location: 416 Broadway, Nashville, TN 37203 Why Visit: Jack’s Bar-B-Que is a convenient stop for corporate groups exploring Nashville’s vibrant Broadway scene. Known for its no-frills approach and authentic flavor, Jack’s provides a genuine taste of Southern BBQ.

What to Try: The "Sliced Brisket" and "Baby Back Ribs," accompanied by classic sides like cornbread and coleslaw.

Tips for Planning a Corporate Group BBQ Tour

Make Reservations: Many popular BBQ joints can get crowded, especially during peak dining times. 

Consider Dietary Preferences: Ensure that the chosen venues offer options for various dietary needs, such as vegetarian or gluten-free choices.

Plan for Transportation: Coordinate transportation to and from the BBQ joints to make the experience hassle-free for your group.

Incorporate a Fun Itinerary: Combine your BBQ stops with other local attractions or activities to create a comprehensive and enjoyable corporate outing.

Nashville’s BBQ scene offers a rich tapestry of flavors and experiences that are perfect for corporate group tours. From spicy hot chicken to succulent ribs, these top spots provide a delicious taste of Music City that will leave your group satisfied and impressed.

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