There are so many cupcakes in your apartment right now. On the counters, in the oven… you could probably open the fridge and there’d be cupcakes in there too. There’s bowls of meringue and buttercream everywhere, and boxes of sprinkles and candy are stacked on the counter. It’s a cupcake disaster.

Your girlfriend is stress-baking again.

“Well?” Steph asks impatiently from where she’s buried in cupcakes, tapping her foot rapidly when you don’t respond right away, “What flavor do you want, huh?”