series summary: Steve Harrington was connected to you in ways you couldn't explain. But it seems something is always in the way of you being together. Dipping between the events of 1984 and 1985, will time heal the wounds you both have? Or will it send you spiraling down a path of fate you can't escape.
warnings: contains a little billy hargrove x reader, angst, slow burn, reluctant friends to lovers, party shenanigans, reader is oldest Byers sibling, anxiety and panic attacks, depression, descriptions of blood and gore, misuse of medication, underage drinking, unconsensual touch/kissing, mentions of abusive dads.
controversial take: it isn't a bad thing that wolfwood isnt dead yet, i bet he WILL die but he needs more character development and screen time in stargaze first
i have two things to say about btvs season 3 episode 1:
seeing buffy suffering through a minumum wage job, dealing with sexual harassment, sitting alone in her one room apartment eating noodles out of a cup? absolutely fucking devastating and way too real
but also: buffy leading a revolution of people who are forced to work literally until they die, with a hammer and scythe in hand? the symbolism, the boldness of it all? fucking awesome
He had obviously hoped for something else; for another welcome than the one he received. For nearly two years – filled with circumspection, fear, dread, gore, and violence – Sherlock had longed for John’s presence.
The bravest and kindest of men.
Sherlock had never told John that he thought that of him, his best friend. A friend who wanted nothing to do with him after the betrayal. He didn’t even want to hear Sherlock’s explanation. John had just kicked him out, his eyes cold and unforgiving.
Did I really mean that little to him?
The footage from Mycroft’s surveillance told another story, though.
John with his arms tightly folded over his chest, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down his cheeks; his entire body shaking violently.
“Give it time, brother mine,” Mycroft advised. “You can’t expect him to throw himself into your arms after your…how do I put it…callous and extravagant reveal. Perhaps jumping out of a cake would have been better than to show up in his office disguised as an old man with an enlarged prostate.”
***
Sherlock was more careful with his former landlady than he’d been with John. His plan to just dash in, kiss her cheek, and rush up to 221B, was discarded in favour of sending her flowers with an explanatory card. Thirty minutes after the delivery, he unlocked the black door, and was immediately bombarded with tutting, crying, and smiling from his beloved Hudders who, to his horror, had aged considerably since his departure.
“You are NOT to do that again, you rascal,” she said sternly when she’d composed herself somewhat, but she did pat his cheek affectionately, so he took it in stride.
“I won’t,” he said quietly. “How are you?”
“Good! I’m fine now, but we have all been miserable while you were away, John in particular. Have you spoken to him?”
“I have.”
Sherlock didn’t feel the urge to elaborate and gestured to the stairs; he was eager to get home. Mrs Hudson looked sceptically at him, clearly perceiving that something was amiss, but she let him go.
***
The fact that John still lived in the flat had taken Sherlock by surprise. He’d assumed that the good doctor would find the place too full of memories of his flatmate to endure seeing all the artefacts 221B contained on a daily basis.
Everything was just as he’d left it, but what baffled Sherlock even more, was the fact that John was sleeping in Sherlock’s bed. Granted, the mattress was far better than John’s, and it wasn’t as if the bed was in use, but it dumbfounded him, nonetheless.
“Oh, John,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”
He found his wardrobe full of his own clothes. John clearly kept his clothes upstairs still. Sherlock sat down on the bed and stroked the pillow that had a dent from John’s head on it. A piece of fabric stuck out from under the pillow, and when he realised it was the worn tee he’d used, a painful lump formed in his throat. It was evident that John didn’t use it himself; his pyjamas trousers and t-shirt were neatly folded on the chair beside the bed.
Did he use it to comfort himself? Surely, this was not normal best friends’ behaviour?
Sherlock had wanted to take something of John’s with him, but it was too dangerous. More than once had his pockets, rucksacks, and accommodations been searched, and…
A loud sound startled him; his frayed nerves making him break into cold sweat. It didn’t matter that he was home and safe; his body still reacted as if he was on the run from Moriarty’s men.
***
Someone was talking to him, but he was unable to decipher the words. He thought the voice sounded familiar, but he also presumed that his mind was playing tricks on him.
John isn’t here, you idiot! He’s in London. Home. Safe. Now, you need to get out of here, so you can get back to him.
Sherlock tried to wrestle himself free from what he assumed were someone else’s arms. He felt like an utter moron when he realised it was his own hands gripping his upper arms so hard it hurt.
“Sherlock, can you hear me? It’s John. You’re home, at Baker Street, in your bedroom. Open your eyes. I promise you, it’s not a trick.”
John. How could it be John? John wasn’t here. John was…but he’d said that Sherlock was home, so perhaps…
Sherlock opened his eyes slowly. He was sitting on the floor, his back leant against the foot of the bed. The voice had come from the doorway. Sherlock saw a pair of brown brogues that looked familiar. Worn jeans came into sight next, and when he lifted his head a bit more, Sherlock saw a knitted jumper which made tears trickle down his cheeks. He inhaled deeply before he dared to face the man the clothes belonged to, but when he did John didn’t vanish like a mirage. God knew he’d done that far too often during Sherlock’s time away.
“Hey, do you see me?”
John’s voice was soft, unthreatening.
“Yes. I’m…John, I’m so – “
“Shh, none of that. Let’s get you sorted and then we’ll talk. You’ll need to give it time, Sherlock…I…”
John’s voice cracked when he said Sherlock’s name, as if he couldn’t believe he was talking to the man himself instead of his gravestone. Sherlock did not look forward to telling John that he’d heard him speaking to the black stone before he left the country.
“Give it time,” John had said, just as Mycroft had advised him earlier that day.
Patience, then. I can do that. If John stays with me, he can take as long as he likes.
When John reached out a hand to help Sherlock to his feet, Sherlock grabbed it eagerly, and he didn’t let go once he stood facing the man that meant the world to him.
I'm making homemade ricotta cheese, and I thought I'd share the recipe with you because it's easy and fun to do, and it saves money!! The biggest reason to make your own ricotta is that it tastes heavenly ✨️ 😋
These are the ingredients that you need...
4 cups of whole milk
1/2 cup of heavy cream cream or whipping cream
1/4 teaspoon of salt
3 tablespoons of lemon juice. I squeeze my own, but you can just buy the juice itself. I add a little extra to the recipe because I love the light, tangy, lemony flavor it gives the cheese...
Pour the milk and cream into a pot and add the salt. You're going to bring it to just under a boil, stirring constantly so the milk heats evenly and doesn't burn. I use a food thermometer to check the temperature. If you don't have one, you can just watch the pot, and at the first sign of a bubble rising to the top indicating it's about to boil, take it off of the heat.
While I heat the milk and cream, I set up a colander with cheese cloth in it, and I put that in a bowl to drain the cheese when it's done.
This is what the milk and cream mixture looks like a it heats up. I set it on medium heat. It'll take a little time to get just under the boiling point. Keep stirring, but don't stir too much or it'll take a long time to get to the proper temperature.
Once you have reached 210°F or have seen the first bubble indicating a boil and that you should take the mixture off of the heat, remove the pot to a cool place. I place a rack on my counter and put the pot there.
Then add the lemon juice. Stir this mixture as little as you can, but make sure that you incorporate all the lemon juice throughout the milk and cream. Then, leave it alone. It needs time for the curds to form, and they're very delicate. Don't touch the pot or the mixture again for an hour. At that point, it'll look like this
You can see the curds. 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗
Now, you gently scoop out the cheese and put it in the cheese cloth in the colander in the bowl. As you can see, Petey is anxiously awaiting the cheese!! You may have to empty the juice as it accumulates in the bowl from the cheese as you scoop it into the bowl so it can drain thoroughly. That juice is called the whey. I always start feeling like Little Miss Muffet at this point in time because i have curds and whey!! 🤣🤣🤣
When all the curds are in the cheese cloth and you have emptied the bowl of any whey, you let it drain for an hour, and voila, you have fresh homemade ricotta cheese!!!
It's easy and fun and delicious!! I hope that you enjoy making the cheese as much as I do. It gives me a feeling of satisfaction and it's delicious so... 😁😍😋
