#and i knew they were going to bake bread with the recipe i used

[anyroads]

OK you know what, if we're gonna talk about Bake Off then fuck it, let's do this.

It used to be this wholesome, lovely show! We used to watch it for the bakers! And the learning! And the light banter and occasional bit of coy innuendo! What happened?

Channel 4 happened. When they bought the show they made a number of changes, most of them Not Good™️. Not just in the sense of them resulting in a lot of 😬 and 🫠 moments, but in the sense of how they changed the show's purpose, atmosphere, and brand.

Look, I know most people are just like, "whatever, it's just a baking show," and yeah, sure. But it's one of the UK's most successful TV exports, and where it once shifted the tone of reality competition to being wholesome and supportive of contestants, it's since moved towards creating tension at the contestants' cost. So aside from the fact that most people watching it signed up to watch a nice show, it has also shifted the goalposts of what that even means. And that, lovelies and gentlefolk, is some bullshit.

I decided to break my rant analysis into four main parts: theme weeks, the hosts, the judges, and the bakers. Let's get to it!

Theme Weeks:

If you watch Bake Off, you know the show's always had a specific theme for each week. The staples that come up in most seasons are:

cake

biscuit

bread

pudding/dessert

pastry

patisserie

Less common but consistent are things like caramel and chocolate week.

Then there are the fun episodes! When GBBO was on the BBC, this started out with things tea week, tarts, pies, tray bakes, basically little tangents still focused on emphasizing specific baking skills. In Series 6 (still on the BBC) they had their first nation-focused theme week with French week -- fairly innocuous given that a lot of patisserie is French, France and England share much more culture than either cares to admit [Norman Flag dot gif], and it was a nice change from watching Paul make the bakers do recipes that involved boiling things while talking about how wonderful boiled doughs are (are they, Paul? Are they?).

The show kept mixing it up with innocuous themes like advanced dough and alternative ingredients weeks, European cakes, Victorian week, batter week, and botanical week. And while it was frustrating to watch Paul Hollywood mispronounce things like the Hungarian Dobos Torta and lecture bakers on babka when he clearly knew nothing about it (or about Jewish baking in general, go off Past Me), the show's general attitude was that the judges had their own opinions, which were separate from the immutable facts around the chemistry of baking (more on this later) and shouldn't affect how bakers are judged.

After the show moved to Channel 4, the number of themed weeks increased and more of them focused on specific countries. In 6 seasons on the BBC, there were only two country-focused theme weeks, and in 5 seasons on Channel 4 there have been five. And while they've also had themes like vegan baking, roaring 20s, the 1980s, spice week, etc. the show has really started to go hard on exoticizing other cultures in outright disrespectful and racist ways. There's been Italian and Danish week, German, Japanese (it wasn't, it was East Asian week), and now Mexican week (which doesn't touch on interspersed Jewish bakes that didn't get a theme week, like versions of bagels and babka set as technical challenges that were borderline hate crimes and mansplained by a guy who has no idea how to make either and once wrote in a cookbook that challah was traditionally eaten during Passover). Each time the hosts played up the theme with racist bits and jokes that can be used as evidence in court if your case is "why should shows with scripted content have a professional writing staff."

Which touches on other issues the show has now...

The Hosts:

When GBBO was on the BBC, the show was hosted by ✨Mel Giedroyc✨ and ✨Sue Perkins✨. They encouraged the bakers! They'd hold stuff for them sometimes! They were interested in them! If a baker had a breakdown, they would start singing copyrighted material to render the footage unusable! When the show moved to Channel 4, they left, though I'm not unconvinced that Channel 4 offered them impossible to accept contracts to force them out so they could rebrand the show. They replaced them with Sandy Toksvig and Noel Fielding. Sandy was a lovely host in the vein of Mel and Sue, and she and Noel had a relatively sweet rapport, but she left a few seasons ago and was replaced by Matt Lucas.

Noel Fielding is mostly known for his quirky brand of comedy, a sort of British Zooey Deschanel who's goth from the neck up, an upperclass British gay divorcee from the neck down, and basically an early 60s Beatle re: trousers. Matt Lucas has almost definitely never watched a single episode of GBBO and his most redeeming quality is his thinly veiled contempt for Paul Hollywood.

The two treat the baking tent as their personal playground. Far from the supportive attitude of Mel and Sue, they tend to get in the bakers' way during the most stressful moments, especially when they try to do hilarious "comedy" bits (I can't not put that in quotes) like Noel's talking wooden spoon thing, or Matt talking over Noel to do time calls. During theme weeks like Japanese and Mexican week, they do culture-specific bits that are both racist ("just Juan joke" and "is Mexico a real place?") and unsurprising, given that both Matt and Noel did blackface on their respective sketch shows and absolutely could and should have known better because it was already the current fucking century.

All this to say, there's now a separation between the bakers and the hosts, as if they're on different shows. The hosts are doing their own thing and the bakers are doing GBBO. The show has gotten meaner to the bakers, and the hosts aren't there to support them anymore, they're just there to be comic relief. Because when you refocus your show on stressing the bakers the fuck out, you need a forced laugh I guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

The Judges:

First of all, a sincere congratulations to Paul Hollywood who managed to squeeze I jUsT cAmE bAcK fRoM mExIcO aNd YeT sTiLL pRoNoUnCe PiCo De GaLLo As 'PiKa De KaLLa' and I aM aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS wHiCh aRe MaDe WiTh DiGeStiVe BiScUiTs AcCoRdiNg tO mE, aN eXpErT oN s'MoReS, just two in a giant pile of astoundingly wrong hot takes, into a short enough time span that they all aired within Liz Truss's term as Prime Minister. A true man of accomplishments.

In the interest of fairness, I need to preface this with a disclaimer that, due to the fact that I've been watching Bake Off for most of its run, I'm biased. Specifically, I can't stand Paul Hollywood's smarmy, classist, egomaniac ass because he's proven time and again he's more interested in looking smart than actually knowing what he's talking about. Since the show moved to Channel 4, they've changed the occasional handshake Paul would give bakers to the HoLlYwOoD hAnDsHaKe™️. It's gone from being an emphasis of someone's skill to a goal, a reward, and one that emphasizes the judges' place above the bakers.

The judges used to function as teachers, imparting their skills and insights to the bakers. When the show was on the BBC, the voiceover leading to a judging would focus on the bakers' work being finished, saying how it will now be evaluated based on their skill and how well they met the brief. The voiceovers now, on Channel 4, focus on the judging (literally saying something along the lines of, "the bakers will now be judged by Prue and Paul"). There is a clear distinction Channel 4's producers have made, to mark that the show is now about whether or not the judges approve, not whether the brief was understood and executed well. On the BBC, it was irrelevant whether the judges liked a particular flavor, as long as the bake was well-made. Now, the bakers are expected to know the judges tastes and cater to them, which is frankly bullshit. A judge doesn't have to like a flavor to know whether or not it was executed well, ie. is it carrying a bake and was it meant to etc.

The judges have been turned into a brand. Cynically, Channel 4 knows that by building them up and focusing the show more on them, they can exploit their image more for profit. In the process, they've become much more biased and their own biases have come out as well. Most recently in the flaming dumpster fire that was Mexican Week, Paul Hollywood tried to intimidate a baker by telling them he had just gotten back from Mexico (which must have been a fruitful learning trip if he couldn't even learn how to pronounce pico de gallo correctly). Where do I even start with this? Here's an amateur baker from England (the show specifically casts middle and lower middle class bakers for the most part??) who likely can't afford trips to Mexico, who lives in a country with incredibly limited access to Mexican cuisine, who is expected not only to understand the cooking and baking traditions of a completely different culture but to do so well enough to play with it and do something creative with it. On top of which, one of the judges is now using his privilege of traveling halfway around the world as some kind of leverage, as if this were a bar that any amateur British baker could clear.

Prue, meanwhile, has openly asserted her biases against cultural flavors and textures, prioritizing her own personal preferences over them, as if they were in any way relevant to the skills and knowledge necessary to execute the tasks she sets to the bakers. She has also been consistently elitist, criticizing bakers for choices they made that were clearly informed by their experiences within income brackets that are too low and foreign for Prue to comprehend. She once had a go at a baker on a Christmas special because his Christmas dinner themed bake didn't have a turkey, even though it was clear from the stories he shared of his own Christmases that his family likely couldn't afford one. "It's not really Christmas dinner without a turkey," Prue said into the camera angrily while sitting on a chair made of live orphans and telling the ghost of Christmas Future to come back when he had another museum gift shop necklace for her to round out her collection.

The show is no longer about which baker has the best skills. It's become about which mortal can appease the gods of Mount Olympus, ie. the judges.

The Bakers:

Remember when the show was about them? Channel 4 doesn't! Because this is a reality competition show, the bakers are chosen both based on their skills, as well as cast-ability. They're cast as characters, distinct from each other, from different areas, age groups, ethnicities. All of them are amateurs. All of them are middle or lower middle class. They've ranged from college students to supermarket cashiers to prison wardens to scientists.

Something I noticed when the show moved to Channel 4 is that the baker who goes home in the first week is always wildly behind the rest in skills. I have no proof of this other than my eyeballs and deductive reasoning skills, but I think that Channel 4 deliberately casts a ringer each season who they think will be an easy send-off in the first week, just to get the audience's feet wet.

Anyway, like I said, this show used to be about the bakers - about them building skills and learning, and having walked into the tent with a self-taught foundation and understanding of the processes and chemical reactions involved in baking. When the show was on the BBC, the end of each round had some (often brief) moments of tension - will they finish in time? Will they get their bakes on the plate before time is up? Did they forget to add sugar to their batter and only remember at the last minute? In the end, they usually managed to finish and we'd all breathe a sigh of relief and think, yeah! You go, Bakers Who I'm Rooting For!

Now, on Channel 4, the end of round drama has been stretched to be so much longer that they've composed extra music for it. The bakers often seem out of their depth, whether because the instructions for the technical challenge are too vague (bake a lemon meringue pie??? As if anyone in the UK under the age of 60 has had one in the last decade???), or because they were expected to bake something that required a more than a basic foundation they weren't told of. Often it seems like they just aren't given enough time, a tactic used by reality competition shows to manipulate contestants into giving the cameras more dramatic content. On top of all this, the hosts get in their way, instead of helping them plate their bakes. As has been pointed out before, when everyone fails the challenge, the real failure lies with whoever set it.

In conclusion:

The show no longer exists to teach the bakers - and the audience - skills or knowledge. It now manipulates contestants for dramatic effect and prioritizes showing conflict over wholesome content. Channel 4 sees the bakers as social media content they can churn out season after season, and don't care about them because in a few months there'll be a new batch to exploit. Meanwhile, the judges are also out of their depth, co-opting recipes from other cultures and butchering them horrendously, while the camera gives them nothing but status as they hold bakers to the expectation that they learn how to make things very much the wrong way. If you saw any of the tweets about Mexican or Japanese week, or read my post on how Paul Hollywood isn't allowed to go near babka ever again, you'll understand.

So what would fix all this? Scrap the current judges and the hosts altogether. Bring back Mel and Sue, and replace the judges with expert bakers who have a love of their craft and want to share it with others. The draw of GBBO used to be its warmth and comfort - if Channel 4 isn't going to start its own version of Master Chef For Bakers, then it needs to stop trying to find a balance of how it can insert that vibe into GBBO. It can't. That's not a thing. Stop trying.

[d1xonss]

heyyy went thru all your masterlist (reader one) and fell inlove with your fics i was wondering if you can write something like grumpy!daryl x sunshine!reader ykwim? like they complete eachother (::

Sunshine

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 10

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ Ahhh thank you so much for reading, it truly means so much! I’m always down to write this type of stuff, I think it’s so cute:)) I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! ps- I thought this was a super cute thing to post for Valentine's Day💋

It was quiet, peaceful inside your home as you busied yourself around the space. It was a nice hot summer day, and you felt quite accomplished with the amount of things you had gotten done in just the span of a few hours. You tended to your garden full of colorful flowers, made a trip to the pantry to pick up a few things you were running low on, cleaned and tidied up the house, the list really went on and on. But the truth was you loved doing things like this, it almost tricked you into believing that life outside the gates was normal again. Even though you knew it wasn’t, it was still nice to pretend from time to time.

Currently, you busied yourself with making some of your famous homemade brownies, something you found you hadn’t made in quite some time. With everything going on lately, it was hard to find the time to do the things you loved most, which was in fact, to bake. But now that everything had died down for the most part, you quickly hopped back onto the opportunity. Whether it was cake, cookies, or some kind of bread, you always found life to be a little bit better with something sweet.

But you weren’t just making these brownies for yourself, in fact, whenever you whipped something up it was never just for you. It was also for your husband Daryl whom you adored more than anything else in this world, the man constantly making you happier with each passing day. And he loved you just as much if not more, and he especially loved being your taste tester whenever you tried out a new recipe. The first time you had called him that, he just scoffed and shook his head as if what you said was something stupid. But you could see that small smirk he had on his face afterwards, silently telling you that he actually loved the little job you assigned, though he would never admit it out loud.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you began to mix the dry and wet ingredients together, swaying your hips a little to the soft song playing in the background. Recently you had found a record player on a run and you were over the moon excited to use it, missing music from the world before. And although you hadn’t found the best records in the world to listen to, you thought almost anything was better than the quiet. The most you had found were a few country albums which weren't in your top favorite genres for sure, but you had to admit it was growing on you the smallest bit. With the way you danced along, it was hard to deny.

Your head then suddenly snapped up when you heard the sound of the front door opening, a smile being brought to your face as you already knew who it was. He was a little loud upon entering your shared house, dropping his crossbow on the table with a loud smack, huffing and puffing as he entered the living room without a word. Your smile dropped a little, usually he would call out to you to announce that he was home, but clearly today was not one of those days. He was in a mood, and you knew you would have to cheer him up.

Although Daryl was perfect to you in every way, he was a pretty grumpy man from time to time when things didn’t work out or go the way he planned. The littlest things could completely ruin his demeanor for the rest of the day at times. He would hold onto it, rant about it constantly while it was on his mind, even though most of the time it was something that he couldn’t change. But you assumed that’s what frustrated him the most. And this was no different, hearing him sigh heavily in the other room as he plopped down on the sofa. 

But the best thing about you, was that at the end of the day, you always found a way to make him feel better.

You discarded the mixing spoon that was in your hand, moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room in an attempt to see what was bothering him. But once you caught sight of him whilst lingering in the doorway of the space, you sighed quietly upon seeing how he held his face in his hands, slumped over the side of the couch. You could tell he was irritated and that something had happened today while he was out, but it was nothing that you couldn’t fix. And you figured the brownies would help too.

So you finally pushed yourself forward to enter the room, softly sitting down next to him as you raised your hand up to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Hi sweetie.” you greeted softly.

But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even raise his head up to look you in the eye. The most he did was grunt, and even you didn’t know in that moment if it was directed towards you or not.

You eyed him for a moment before speaking again, “How was your day?” you asked gently while rubbing his shoulder up and down now.

Still nothing. Damn he was a tough one to crack today. But you knew he couldn’t resist you for very long, even if today was the worst day of his life, he always came around for you. Always.

Upon not getting a verbal response, you leaned further into him and began to trail a few quick kisses on the side of his head, to which he scoffed and scooted away from. “Come on woman, m’ not in the mood.” he grumbled as he finally looked up from the floor.

“He speaks.” you said as you raised your hands up in victory, your actions causing him to scoff with a roll of his eyes. Acting as if you were the dramatic one here. “What happened?” you asked with a tilted head.

He blew out a breath of air, “Nothin.”

“Mhm…” you trailed off sarcastically with a nod, “Nothing…”

He was silent for a long moment, nearly minutes passing by, before he blew another harsh breath out as he leaned back against the couch. “We lost all those damn supplies on that run we took today, walkers just came outta nowhere and we didn’t have time to stick around. Negan’s getting on my fuckin nerves all the damn time, spittin out the same bullshit I’ve heard a hundred fuckin times before. And my bike broke down on the way back, don’t even know if I can fix it.”

If someone was looking at this from an outside perspective, seeing the amount he just unleashed while you sat there with a small smile on your face, their jaw would probably be on the floor. How you hardly reacted at all, how he was so harsh with the way he spoke, you were sure it would look questionable to anyone who didn’t truly know the two of you, or your dynamic. But the truth was, you had heard this similar song and dance about a hundred different times before, knowing he just needed to get everything off his chest and blow off some steam. And you knew after saying it all out loud, along with a little comfort, he would see that everything would be alright in the end.

Your lip stuck out in a pout as you looked at him, “Oh, my poor baby.” you said dramatically as you pulled him back into you, placing your lips on his cheek to kiss him there multiple times as he let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.

“Stop.” he protested, yet made no attempts to pull away from your affection. In fact, you swore you almost felt him lean in further.

You giggled against his skin as you pulled away far enough to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” you spoke seriously now as you stroked the side of his face, “But it’ll be okay…everything will work itself out.”

He scoffed quietly at your words, “Ya always say that.”

“And I’m always right.” you said as you leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek, “Remember when you came back from a hunt that one time with nothing, and you were all grumpy about it? What happened the next day?”

He glanced over to you for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, “Found three deers…” he grumbled.

“Right.” you said as you moved to give his arm a soft squeeze, “You worry way too much over this kind of stuff, just breathe. Relax. It’s all going to be fine.”

His expression softened drastically after you talked to him, kind and gentle as always, wordlessly leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. You laughed lightly as you hugged him back, stroking the back of his hair soothingly as you felt him exhale deeply. Taking a breath like you advised.

“M’ sorry.” he muttered suddenly after a few moments of silence.

Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, “For what, honey?”

“For dumpin this shit on ya all the time…” he clarified as he squeezed you tighter, “Ya don’t deserve that…hearin me bitch-”

“Hey.” you cut him off as you pulled away, taking his face in your hands, “That’s what I’m here for, to listen. I’m honored to be the one you go to when you need to rant about something, and I’m even more honored that I’m the one who gets to make you feel better. That’s certainly not something to be sorry for, okay?”

His lip turned up in a small smile as he took your hands from his face, kissing your palm lightly as he looked at you with soft eyes, “I don’t deserve ya.”

You shushed him instantly with a shake of your head, “Yes you do.” you assured, before your mind trailed off a little in realization which caused a small smile to form on your face, “But…I do think I have something else that’ll make you feel better. Maybe even better than I can.”

He scoffed with a growing smile, “Well, I highly doubt that…but go on…” he said as his interest clearly piqued.

“Well…I just so happen to have some brownie batter in the kitchen with your name on it.” you said as you raised your eyebrows.

His eyes widened the smallest bit in clear excitement before glancing out the doorway, clearly itching to rush into the kitchen now, “Ya haven’t even baked em yet..?”

You shook your head with a smile, “Nope…I’ll even let you lick the spoon.” you said, knowing that was his favorite part.

His smile only grew then as there seemed to be a sparkle in his eye, like a kid in a giant candy store. The two of you then ventured back toward the kitchen where the music was still playing softly, getting the batter ready to be put into the pan to bake. But of course, he took the spoon from you almost instantly when you were done using it, licking the entire thing completely clean as if he couldn’t get enough. Though he felt he had to tease you just a little bit, taking a small dollop from the utensil on his finger before bringing it to the tip of your nose with a “boop.” 

You knew then and there that his mind was far from the events earlier that day, now enjoying his time he had with you as he looked at you as if you were a bright ball of sunshine after a rainy day. The sunshine that he desperately needed in his life.

But then the time came. The oven had beeped and you had pulled the brownies out of the oven to cool before cutting them, topping it off with some powdered sugar before your taste tester gave his honest feedback. He took a corner piece, which were his favorite, and took a large bite of the chocolate goodness while you looked at him in anticipation.

“Well..?” 

He said nothing, his eyes rolled back and a groan left his lips as he savored the sweetness on his tongue, and that was the only answer you needed. You smiled brightly as you clapped to yourself, his signs of approval proving that you were only getting better with the hobby you loved to do.

“Dunno how ya do it,” he commented before shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, “They just get better and better.” he said with his mouth full.

You smiled proudly as you began to grab a piece for yourself, “Well it’s a good thing I have my taste tester to give me all the feedback I need.”

Normally he would roll his eyes at the continuous nickname you bestowed upon him, but not today. He only smiled with a nod, bringing you in to leave a dramatic kiss on your cheek, pulling away with a loud “muah.”

“I’ll always be here ta taste whatever ya want sunshine.” he promised. 

And you believed him completely.

~ Thanks for reading!

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

Need fluff with logan and a southern reader pretty pretty pls!!!

I’m from a hawt place so a winter man in a winter cabin is needed right about now. Please can I request headcanons or a one shot about the reader that bakes him so many sweets/makes so much food for winter he gets chubby and notices, maybe they swap recipes or bake together? Just so much domestic fluff

It’s a primal need to see this man happy, unbothered in the Canadian wilderness, thriving with anything his heart wants and I know I can make that happen lmao

taste of home

bigdaddy!loganxsouthern!reader

a/n: i got so inspired by this request that I started and finished in one session! was definitely needed to whip up some cute cozy feel feel-good after the hours of writing smut for Ravish. thank you for the request, my asks are always open! hope y'all enjoy it! <3 a/n: i got so inspired by this request that I started and finished in one session! was definitely needed to whip up some cute cozy feel feel-good after the hours of writing smut for Ravish. thank you for the request, my asks are always open! hope y'all enjoy it! <3

wc: 1k

18+ MDNI | sexual themes, FLUFF, the name daddy is used.

summary: Y/N has been a little homesick lately and found a temporary cure through baking for Logan.

"What're you getting all dolled up for?" Logan cooed from the doorframe he was leaning on, his arms crossed. 

Your eyes met his reflection in the mirror of your vanity. 

"Nothin', just felt like being pretty." You smiled up at him as you put on your pearl earrings. 

It was true, you had nowhere to go. Logan's cabin was located in quite literally the middle of nowhere. Miles and miles of trees surrounded the property secluding you both from any and all civilization. 

Back home, it was part of your routine to get ready for the day even though all you'd do was stay home. There was something fulfilling about looking your best every day: if you looked good, you felt good.

You had felt a little homesick lately.

 Logan had dragged you deep into the Canadian forests for the winter because he couldn't stand the southern heat that you were used to. At first, you weren't a fan of the idea, but seeing as how happy it made Logan, it made the move all worthwhile.

He'd let go of his negative ways, he was now affectionate, talkative, and adventurous. His being away from all the stress allowed him to show you some of his other colours and vibrant ones at that.

"What do you always say... as pretty as a plum?" He snorted.

"As a peach. It's pretty as a peach." You giggled. 

"Well then, darling, you're as pretty as a peach." He corrected himself, pushing off the door frame and walking up behind your chair.

"Why thank you, Daddy," You blushed as he placed a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder. 

"God, I love it when you call me that." He groaned into your skin, giving you a soft bite. 

You giggled from the slight pinch and finished getting ready with a few final pats of powder. 

"Mmm, as much as I'd want to do that with you right now, know what day it is. It's my baking day, Lo'." You tipped your head back and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. 

"Can't you do it tomorrow baby?" He huffed.

"You know it's tradition, Sunday is baking day. Do you want more sweets or what?" You raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes, mam'." He chuckled, taking a seat on the bed and letting you get to your  work station.

He knew how serious you got about your baking, it was your primary way of curing your homesickness. 

You'd always keep a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge and cupboards stocked with fresh bread and goodies. Logan could not bring himself to complain, he had developed a major sweet tooth since being with you. Every time you'd make new batches they would be gone in a matter of a few days. It's as if he'd eat one each time he'd pass by them. 

You didn't mind though, it warmed your heart to see how much he enjoyed your baking. Often you'd find some powdered sugar left in his beard. 

"You should watch it with those," You'd warn him as he devoured them, one by one. 

"I got bones of steel. No need to worry baby, sugar is the last thing that'll take me out." He mumbled with his mouth full, not being able to control himself around your delicious treats.

His favourites were your peach cobbler, lemon bars and peanut butter-chocolate fudge. Those were also conveniently the easiest ones to make. You had tried to teach Logan how to make them on his own, but it never stuck. 

"Why are they flat like pancakes? I followed your recipe," He had come to you while you left him unsupervised in the kitchen. You put your embroidery down and peered into the baking pan. 

"Did you use baking powder?" You poked the gooey top of his 'cupcake.' 

"Yes." He grumbled.

"Are you sure it was baking powder and not baking soda?" You tasted the batter, making a face. Salty.

"There's a difference?" His eyebrows furrowed.

Baking didn't come naturally to Logan, and that was okay. You had your strengths and he had his, which is what made you two work so well together. 

You spent the entire day working up a storm in the kitchen. 

Multitasking the different steps for each recipe with ease. You had spent so much time of your life baking that tackling multiple projects at once didn't even make you break a sweat. Logan turned his leather armchair to face you from across the house so he could watch you. 

He enjoyed watching you get lost in your little head as you worked. The way your plump lips wrapped around your finger when you taste-tested the recipes, making sure they were just right for him. The slight lift of your dress as you bent over to grab some pans from storage. Your flushed skin, glowing underneath the kitchen light. That little sigh of relief would escape you as you tied your hair up from the heat of the oven. Just like that, silently, he'd ogle you from his corner, sipping his favourite whiskey, and watching his favourite doll. 

Of course, at any chance he'd get he'd be there to come help you when you needed him to reach some things that were too high up or lift the heavy sac of flour on the counter for you. 

Today, you had made the biggest batches yet, pans of cooling sweets covered your entire kitchen surface. 

"Whoa baby, what're you feeding, the army?" Logan teased as he walked by shirtless. 

When you first started seeing Logan, he was in optimal shape. He was nothing but an angry mess of hair and muscle. But since he moved you into the cabin, he had started putting on a few extra pounds, most likely from his overconsumption of your treats. 

"No, I'm feeding a Wolverine that's clearly getting ready for winter." You teased back, poking his stomach. 

 He stopped in his tracks and peered down at his hair-covered gut. 

In no way shape or form did he look bad with the added weight, if anything you like him having a few extra layers? 

"You callin' me fat?" Grinned mischievously. 

"I was just playin- ah Logan!" You gasped as he threw you over his shoulder with a swift motion. Holding your ass right next to his face with his arm. He hoisted up your dress with his free hand, revealing your white bow panties. Your legs kicked in protest. 

"Daddy, stop it- you're not fat-" 

"That's not very nice baby, gonna need to punish you." He chuckled giving you a hard spank on the cheek, then placed you back down. 

"Now if you will excuse me, I've gotta get ready for winter." He winked as he grabbed the cookie closest to him. Sinking with teeth in it with that smile you oh so fell in love with. 

🏷️: @babey-fruit-bat <3

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[mommieswithmuscles]

EllAbs x Baker!Reader

Free Palestine, don't support Neil

No Minors and No men

CW: Joel lives, Abby leaves the WLF and winds up in Jackson, slow burn, eventual smut, world and relationship building for the first few chapters, read the poll prompt tagged here for context

Title: Sugar Free (1)

You watch Ellie and Dina rush down the street with a few other scouts. You were on your way to the cafeteria to drop off the lunch bread before starting the dinner load when they tore off. "What's going on?" You park the lined wheel barrel with Maria and the kitchen cooks.

"Joel and Tommy went missing." Maria braces herself on the counter. You pass her a special bag from your pack. She takes the bagels graciously.

"I hope they come home safe." You help the kitchen staff unload the still warm loaves and bagels. You then run back and grabbing the birthday fruit pies you made for a few of the kids' birthdays that landed on this day. You wanted to be sure their families had a good time with them.

-

You always keep a pot of hot chocolate ready for the local kids running around and playing in the snow. A few run in and laugh, calling out to ask if you're in. You bring out the coco and fresh soft pretzel snacks you try to keep on hand. They thank you politely before taking seats Ellie helped you restore at the newly stabilized tables.

"Are you staying warm?" You bring in little cups of freshly done cheese dip. A recipe one of the mother figures from your old settlement taught you.

"We try, then Ellie and Dina rough us up," one of the boys pouts. You brush the snow off his cap.

-

You clean up after the kids, starting your last batch for the day. Ellie special requested bagels. You take the small hike back to your house down the street from the bakery. You clean with soap and warm water, running your cleaned glass shard over the fuzz starting to come back over your mound. One last wash and rinse before jogging back to the bakery in a clean change of clothes.

You start the dough, thinking of Ellie's boobs as you knead it. Yes, you were jealous of the kiss she shared with Dina, but you knew she would always come back. She was as addicted to you as you were of her. She wouldn't ever admit it, but the way she lets you pin her against the wall in your bedroom says more than enough.

You shape the dough into rings, yank your pants down, spread your juice on the dough, then drop them on the baking shovel before putting it back in the stone oven.

-

It's dark when they get back. You shut down the shop and left the bagels on your counter for Ellie to collect. You were waiting in the seating area when she rode up, Shimmer waiting patiently as she retrieved her goods. "We have a new girl. WLF escapee."

"That sounds interesting. Where did you find her?"

"Joel and Tommy picked her up from a hoard. We helped clean up." Ellie smirks, shrugs like it was nothing. "It was awesome."

"I bet you were awesome," her cheeks flush and you fix her ruffled collar. "So, you and Dina?" Her head tilts, the smug look gone.

"So uh, you saw that, huh?" Her feet shuffle.

"I did. Was it a one off, or are you taken now?" You cup Ellie's cheek so she keeps her eyes on you.

"It was a one off. I um, I liked it, but her and Jesse are probably getting back together. So um, yeah." Ellie scratches her jaw. You watch her long fingers pick at the skin.

"I'll make you breakfast. Early shift?"

"Sounds- Yeah, sounds great!" Her lips tug upward, but you can tell she's forcing the smile. You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her cheeks are red again.

"See you then cutie," you wink, drop your hand so it slides down her shoulder and bicep, and let her leave flushed.

-

Ellie comes in as you're working on the breakfast bread. You made her a special loaf to munch on for the road. Behind her is who you assume is the newbie. "Goodmorning ladies," you greet politely. Ellie takes her bread with a wave, running to her horse and Joel.

"Morning," the tall blonde greets. "I'm Abby." You offer your hand, she shakes it firmly.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," you smile. She's taken a back, scoffs.

"Shut up," she turns, but you catch the blush on her cheeks.

"Make me," you challenge. She glares, but says nothing. "Come sit, have something to eat. You must be starving, you got here long after the kitchen closed." You bring her a fresh loaf from the heated stone.

[joejoesaurus]

Date Night ! Yuji Idtadori

Context : Yuji planned a surprised date night out

Yuji Itadori had a plan for a surprise dinner date that he hoped would be perfect. He knew he was not exactly the most romantic guy, but he was determined to make this night special. He started by sneaking out of the dorms early to pick up some groceries, carefully selecting ingredients for a simple but delicious meal. He had been paying attention and knew what you were like.  

Back at the dorm, Yuji spent the afternoon in the kitchen, clumsily following a recipe he found online. The kitchen quickly became a mess, but he did not mind. He was too focused on making sure everything was exactly right. He set the table with extra care, even finding a small candle to place in the centre for a cozy touch. 

As the sun began to set, Yuji felt a mix of nerves and excitement. He could not wait to see the look on your face when you walked in and saw everything he had done. He had no idea if it would all go according to plan, but he was ready to give it his all. 

The smell of something delicious greeted me as soon as I stepped into Yuji’s dorm. I paused at the door, taking in the sight before me. Yuji was in the tiny kitchen area, wearing a borrowed apron that was a bit too small for him, concentrating hard as he stirred something in a pot. The table was set with mismatched plates and utensils, and there was a small candle flickering in the center. It was clear he’d put a lot of effort into this. 

“Yuji, did you... cook all this?” I asked, a bit surprised and incredibly touched. 

He turned around, his face lighting up when he saw me. “Yeah! I wanted to do something special, so I thought I’d make us dinner. It’s not fancy or anything, but I promise it’ll taste good!” His cheeks were slightly flushed, maybe from the heat of the kitchen or the nerves of pulling this off. 

I walked over to the stove, peeking into the pot. “It smells amazing. What are we having?” 

“Just something simple pasta with homemade sauce. I also made a salad and, um, tried to bake some bread,” he said, pointing to a slightly misshapen loaf on the counter. “It’s a little... rustic, but it should be okay!” 

I couldn’t help but smile. “Yuji, this is incredible. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” 

He shrugged, giving me that easygoing grin. “It wasn’t trouble at all. I wanted to do it. You deserve something nice, and, well, I thought this would be a fun surprise.” 

He finished up the cooking, serving the pasta with a flourish as if he were a professional chef. We sat down at the table, and as we dug into the meal, I was struck by how thoughtful Yuji was. The food was delicious—maybe not gourmet, but it was made with so much care that it didn’t matter. 

We talked and laughed, the conversation flowing as easily as it always did between us. Yuji kept checking to make sure I was enjoying everything, his eyes lighting up every time I complimented the food.  

As the evening progressed, the candle burned lower, casting a warm, golden light over the room. I couldn’t stop smiling. The simple dinner in his small dorm felt more special than any fancy restaurant could have. It was just the two of us, sharing a meal that Yuji had made with his own hands, and that made it perfect. 

After we finished our meal, Yuji insisted on clearing the plates, but I helped him anyway. The small kitchen was quickly tidied up, and before long, we found ourselves back in his room, the cozy warmth of the evening lingering in the air.

Yuji flopped onto his bed with a satisfied sigh, patting the spot next to him. "Come here," he said softly, his usual energy replaced with a gentle calm. I didn’t need any more encouragement. I climbed onto the bed and snuggled up beside him, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence.

He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close until I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the soothing sound as his fingers absentmindedly played with my hair. We stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside his dorm fading away.

"Did you have a good time?" Yuji asked quietly, his voice soft and a little hesitant, as if he was still worried that maybe the night hadn’t been as special as he’d hoped.

I looked up at him, meeting his warm brown eyes. "I had the best time," I whispered back, meaning every word. "This was perfect, Yuji. Thank you."

His face broke into a wide grin, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "I’m really glad," he said, his voice filled with relief and happiness. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"You spoil me, Yuji," I chuckled.

"Don't you think I should get a reward then?" Yuji grinned mischievously. "And what reward would that be, sir?" I teased, looking up at him. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Just, you know… haha…"

Before I could respond, I felt a warm blush rise to my cheeks, he had a boner!?

"Uhm Yuji..? I think your little friend needs help there.." I say pointing at his "manhood" .

"Think you could help me out then, what do you say baby?"

Hope you enjoyed this!!

|･ω･*)凸 ヾ(；ᗒᗣᗕ)ツ

[schrodingers-romy]

Lemon Blueberry [Suzuri Shuhei x Reader]

Pairing: Suzuri Shuhei x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2300 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Shuhei bakes for the first time, with you

Warnings: Spoilers for the manga (suzuri's backstory and current occupation); also warning for light mentions of Stuff Pertinent to his backstory as well; no gendered pronouns or terms are used for the reader; kissing; feeding each other food with your hands idk; written with aged up suzuri in mind

Notes: wrote this a while ago and it's barely edited but I haven't seen any suzuri fics so I have to make my own food <3

The light of the setting sun bathed the kitchen in its soft honey glow. Your focus shifted for just a second, away from the finicky stand mixer in front of you to the window, no doubt admiring the clouds cast in their colorful glow. And as cliché as it sounds, Shuhei thought that you are undoubtedly more beautiful than any sunset could ever be.

And to think he used to mock those who loved…

It still seemed like a dream sometimes. Partially the idea of making an honest living, enough for the rent on an apartment and a healthy three meals a day without stretching it; things he fought bloody tooth and nail for in the past were now within his grasp. And even more than that, he was fulfilled emotionally and mentally in a way that he never was before. He had pride in himself now, not the false, vindictively bitter and caustic ‘pride’ he had before, but true pride. The sort that came from improving, and learning, and going to sleep every night feeling content in himself and his actions.

(In his darker moments, he feared going to sleep, just in case when he woke, he was back There and all of this was the machinations of his starved mind.)

If it was all a dream, Shuhei thought, you were certainly the cruelest part of it. You, who befriended him back when he was still the starved, bruised wraith who first started working in the kitchen of a fancy red light restaurant, scrubbing plates until his hands peeled. You, who knew his dirty past from Tsubaki, but never looked down on him for it. You, who treated him like a person, and who made him feel more real than he had in years. You, who through soft smiles and gentle teasing and homecooked meals gave him his first taste of what falling in love must feel like. He never really believed in any sort of benevolent god (what sort of good god would let him suffer as he once did, anyway); yet he prayed every night that this (that you) were real.

Seemingly oblivious to his thoughts, you broke the silence by giving the mixer a theatrical slap on its side, like you were patting the flank of a beloved horse. “Are you ready?” you asked.

He nodded a little stiffly, hoping you hadn’t noticed him staring. (Although, you were a bit oblivious, he thought, because he is horrible at hiding his infatuation with you).

Shuhei had been over to your house a handful of times, mostly to hang out, or for dinner. This is the first time he would be helping in your kitchen. Despite the fact that he had been learning all that he could about cooking from his job, he had never baked something in his life. And that’s where you came in.

After hearing that, the first thing you suggested was for him to come over so the two of you could bake something together, and he had jumped at the golden opportunity to not only learn a new skill, but also to spend time with you (and also to eat good food, but that was a given).

“I hope you don’t mind, I had something picked out already,” you said, as you adjusted the colorful containers of ingredients situated on the counter in front of you. “Cookies are kind of the obvious thing to bake for your first time, but I have a recipe I think you’ll really like.”

“And what’s that?”

You turn the full force of your smile to him, and he squints a bit. “Lemon blueberry bread! I know you like the taste of fresh fruit, so I thought this would be perfect. And it’s not a very difficult recipe anyway.”

You were right…as you usually were about him. He had never told you, but he did gravitate towards fruit when he had the chance. Fruit was a luxury he could never really partake in where he used to live; it spoiled quickly and couldn’t be kept down when it was bad. Even the thought of fresh lemons and blueberries had him salivating, and you laughed at his eager expression.

“You know me so well,” he said, careful to keep his voice from being too sappy.

You flashed him another smile, and presented him with a measuring cup. “Can you measure out the sugar for me?”

-

Shuhei was a fast learner, and it was no different with baking. He had a lot of questions, and you answered them to the best of your ability.

“Why do you add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients instead of the other way around?”

“I’m sure there’s probably a scientific reason for it that I don’t know…but it is less messy than dumping a bunch of powder, and when you pour the liquid, it mixes a bit instead of just floating on top.”

“How do you know it’s done mixing?”

“Depends on what you’re making. Here it should look uniform and smooth…see how there’s still some little lumps in there? It needs to go for longer. Some recipes need to be mixed for a long time, so they get more air in them…doesn’t really matter for this though.”

“Why are you putting flour on the blueberries?”

“It keeps them from sinking when it bakes, so you get blueberries all the way through the bread instead of just at the bottom.”

“Can I eat some of it now?”

You hesitated for a second. “Well…you’re not really supposed to eat stuff with raw egg in it, but we should have a little taste, so we know if we need to add anything.” You pulled a spoon out of seemingly nowhere and dipped the tip of it in the yellow batter. Shuhei expected you to hand the spoon to him, but instead you held it up towards his mouth, and looked at him expectantly.

He could feel his face heating up at the fact that you’re feeding him; and he panicked a little bit. He ended up biting down hard on the spoon when he tried to taste the batter, making an audible click.

The two of you winced in unison, his from pain and yours from sympathy.

“I’d give that a zero out of ten for gracefulness,” you commented, “But anyway how does it taste?”

Shuhei felt even more red than he was before, but through his embarrassment and the pain in his teeth, he can still taste the bright citrus flavor. “It’s good.”

“Knew it!” you crowed, and then you gave him a heart attack by using the spoon to take your own sampling of the batter. “Mmmm. Yeah. We did good.”

You used the same spoon that he had just had in his mouth. That was essentially an indirect kiss.

You were going to be the death of him.

-

After the bread was placed in the oven, and all the dishes were washed and put away, the two of you sat down on the couch to await the ding of the timer.

“So, how do you feel after your first time baking?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Shuhei knew you wanted him to enjoy it, and he privately thought it was cute of you to be so invested in his happiness. Luckily for you, Shuhei loved making food (and he loved spending time with you). “I feel good. It was fun, I just hope it turns out good.”

Your laughter leaned more into a cackle than a giggle, but he still thought you were adorable. “I thought you’d like it! And I’m sure it will be delicious, especially since you helped me.” You shuffled a bit closer to him on the couch to give him a teasing poke, your eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up in amusement. “Oh, does my help make it better?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know…didn’t your boss tell you you had ‘the magic touch’ with food last week?” you said, smirking at him. “Maybe you added some of your magic to this bread.”

He scoffed, turning away from you to hide his blush. “My boss is too nice. I just pick things up quickly, that’s all. ‘S nothing special.”

You poked at him again, repeatedly with your finger until he turned back towards you to smack your hand away (gently, because he didn’t want to hurt you). Your face had dropped its previous joking expression, replaced with a painfully open one. His heart caught in his throat at the soft curve of your mouth and the warmth in your eyes.

“I think you’re pretty special,” you said earnestly; your eyes shine with something he can now recognize looks a lot like love.

The timer sounded at that moment, and you sprung up from your spot to go check the bread. You moved suspiciously quickly, like you were embarrassed at your admission.

Shuhei remained sitting on the couch, frozen. He felt more dazed than when Tsubaki had cleaned his clock with a kick to his head. He barely dared to hope…but maybe, just maybe, you also felt for him what he felt for you.

-

The bread was already out of the oven and cooling when Shuhei pulled himself together and entered the kitchen. The two of you stared at the cooling bread in silence for a moment. The kitchen is filled with the warm scent of baked bread and sweet lemon. Shuhei felt the urge to lick the bread so he could finally taste it. His stomach growled, breaking the silence.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” he finally said.

“Oh my gosh, same,” you said. “It smells so good I think I’m drooling.”

“How long do we have to wait to eat?”

“I mean…really we should wait until it fully cools so we can put the glaze on…”

He turned to give you his best starving puppy dog face (a face he has created and perfected in the time he has known you).

You hesitated, glancing between him, the bread, and the unused glass of lemon glaze. He could see the conflict in your eyes, until you finally gave in, shoulders slumping as you sigh.

“Y’know what, it’s cool enough. You wanna do the honors?”

He was a little clumsy with the glaze, and most of it is absorbed into the warm bread, but you applauded him when he was done anyways. “Okay now, you’re officially done with your first bake!”

“Time to eat?” he asked eagerly.

You broke out an oversized bread knife, which glinted in the light. (If you weren’t so cute, Shuhei thought, it would look threatening). “Yup!”

-

You sit next to each other on the hard kitchen floor, each holding a thick, warm slice of bread in your bare hands, because you were both too hungry to grab plates and utensils and move to a table.

You gave him a nod, and he took his first bite.

If Shuhei thought the batter was good, the finished bread was heavenly. It was soft, but still packed a powerful burst of tart lemon flavor, and the blueberries had cooked down into an almost jam-like consistency that gave the perfect sweetness to the rest of the bread. Before he knew it, he had devoured the entire slice ravenously.

When he looked back up, you were still holding your own slice, forgotten as you stared at him.

He felt a burst of self-consciousness. He knew he still ate like a rabid animal sometimes; his mind and body still remembered what it was like to starve, even when his stomach was full.

But you don’t look like you’re judging him. Instead, you have that same shine in your eyes again.

“It’s good,” he said lamely, to break the tension.

You simply smiled at this and broke off a piece of your own slice of bread, holding it out to him, towards his mouth (once again).

Shuhei was careful to be gentle this time. He tried to keep from touching you, but your fingers brush against his lips anyway. His skin burned where you touched, and he burned even more under your unmoving gaze.

He reached out for your bread, breaking off a piece himself. It’s clear you expected him to eat it, but it’s his turn to surprise you. He held out the chunk of bread to you, fingers trembling minutely with his nervousness. He resolutely kept his eyes on you, even though he could feel his face radiating heat, so he didn’t miss seeing the shock on your face, and the light glaze to your eyes as you take the piece from his hand.

Your lips were soft when they touched his calloused fingers, and his heart stuttered when he felt the lightest touch of your tongue.

You finished the slice off that way, feeding each other pieces without speaking a word. When it’s finally gone, he reached out one more time, to grab your hands and cradle them in his own.

Shuhei knew how he felt about you; he never really thought you felt anything more than friendship for him, but this night had opened his eyes. Even if he was wrong, after all of this, he finally had the courage to find out what you really felt.

He waited to see if you pulled away, but instead you edged closer to him.

“Hey Shuhei,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless.

The way you looked at him was so filled with tenderness; it almost made his eyes water. “I like you,” you said. “I like you, so much. I might love you.”

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a shuddering exhale at your words.

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he confessed. “But I think it’s love.”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

Your lips were even softer when they were pressed against his own, and the flavor of lemon and blueberry was even sweeter when he licked it from inside your mouth.

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under the Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Domestic violence mentions, hints at child abuse, child abuse mentions violence, phantom pains

MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Again, none of this is beta read. We die like the younglings Anakin snuffed in the Jedi Temple

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @bad4amficideas

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 3:

The Victims

You sighed, checking the little egg timer in your apron pocket to see how long until the scones you were baking had left in the oven. Fifteen minutes. Ugh.

It had been a few days since Steven had come in and purchased his pillar of books. The two of you would make small talk, him thumbing through books and rambling about a subject on ancient Egypt that he knew. The moment you brought up your own obscure facts you have memorized from the things your father would read to you as a little girl, Steven’s eyes lit up and he got the biggest grin on his face, and launched himself headlong into info-dump mode. It was kinda cute, really, how excitable he got. You could tell the poor guy probably didn’t have many friends, aside from his brothers, whom he’d told you about, and a friend named Layla. You also found it endearing how his messy, bed-raggled curls would flop over his face, or how animated he’d seem when he would interrupt himself to bring up another fun fact…

But, it had been a day or two since he’d come in last. And to be honest, you kinda miss the guy. He was probably the nicest most engaging customer you had. He even admitted that he didn’t come in just for the books. He told you he liked your teas and treats, and he loved the comfortable atmosphere of your shop over a crowded cafe. But one day, he just had to ask:

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” He started, looking at the muffin in his hand.

“Hm?” You hummed as you stocked shelves.

“Are these… vegan?” He seemed hesitant to touch the muffine now, as if it were poisoned.

You giggle softly. “Yes, actually. I try to use recipes that everyone can enjoy. Vegan, gluten-free…”

“Oh! Wonderful!” He scarfed the muffin down rather quickly after that, his nose buried in the textbook on archaeology he had in his hands.

You set your phone down as you sipped your spiced tea. It was a rather cold and gloomy day today, not uncommon this late in the year, but still, it sucked. It reminded you of where you grew up in Maine, off the coast. Storms blew in all the time, you’d remember as a little girl getting up in the morning, wanting to run outside and play, just to be met with a dark and angry sky, blistering winds, and pelting rain.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Your poor little six-year-old heart was crushed one day when a particularly bad squall blew into town, and you were trapped within the confines of your house, arms crossed, feet firmly planted as you glared out the window, lip wobbling.

How dare the weather ruin your plans for the day? You were going to play in your treehouse! Now the stupid wind was gonna blow it away! And if it did, your father would have to build another one, and that would take forever!

“Hey, there, Lil’ Bit.” Your dad said, kneeling behind you, as you stubbornly looked out the window in a seething rage. So, so angry for a little girl. You inherited your temper from your mother, surely. Though you personally never saw her mad, of course. Ever. But then again, she worked so much…

Your mom was what your dad told you was a “breadwinner”, which was a term you found dumb. You mom never entered contests and she certainly never won bread as a prize. It was so dumb! Why did adults have to use such dumb words for things?

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad sang, leaning forward from where he was crouched to put his chin on your tiny shoulder.

“No, daddy, ‘m angy.” You mumbled, trying to shrug him off as lightning flashed in the distance.

He chuckled, his voice warm, much like your favorite pair of fuzzy socks after they were just taken out of the dryer. “Come on, princess. It’ll pass. They always do.”

“But why did it have t’ do it today!” You whined, not budging.

“Dunno, kid. The sky just felt like dumping buckets, I guess.” He said, humoring you.

“Daddy...” You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Clouds don’t use buckets!”

“Sure they do!” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you. “You just never see em!”

“You’re silly.” You scoff.

“You’re silly!” Your dad laughed, scooping you up and spinning you around, finally getting a smile out of you as you shriek in laughter.

He tucked you against his chest and kissed you on your forehead. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you some sna–”

His eyes went wide and he gasped when you writhed, crying out and wincing like you’d just been struck.

“Babygirl, what’s wrong?” He asked, hurriedly sitting you on the couch as you curled in on yourself. He could see the welts start to peek out from beneath the sleeves of your little pink shirt.

It was happening again.

The pain in his heart gripped him like ice, knowing he couldn’t do anything to ease the pain his daughter was feeling. His poor, poor baby girl, whose soulmate was constantly being inflicted with whatever horrors they faced with.

He would curse it, sometimes. Your mark. Your bond. You were already enduring abuse that wasn’t directed at you. Or maybe it was in a way… Given that it was happening to your other half. Who you would one day meet. Maybe things will be better, when you had. Maybe.

But one thing was for sure, he hated whomever was inflicting those injuries on your soulmate more. Not only were they hurting your soulmate, they were hurting you. He’d imagined that you were close in age. If so, who the hell would abuse a child in such a way? The concept was completely foreign to him.

He rubbed your back, murmuring sweet and loving things to you.

He noticed something odd about your mark about a few years ago, right when the welts and bruises started to show and you would recoil in phantom pain... There was a new addition to your mark. At first it was one crescent moon. But then one became two, and two became three.

Right now, the bottom right moon was full.

He wasn’t sure what it meant… But he noticed your crying slow to soft little hiccups and sniffles as you sit up, rubbing your eyes.

He rested his forehead against yours. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I jus’ wanna know why it hurts so much, daddy.” You sniffle.

“Trust me, I know. Me and your mom are similar. I remember when we were kids, before we met… She fell from a tree and broke her leg. Man, it hurt so bad…”

You looked up at him, your big beautiful eyes glistened with tears. Your mother’s eyes. Little gems of hers that you would always have.

“Really?” You peeped.

“Really.” He stood and walked over to the bookshelf above the living room fireplace, and plucked a book off of it. He turned back to you and sat next to you, pulling you into his lap and kissing the top of your head.

“This book came from your great auntie over in London. You remember her, yeah?” He hummed.

Your fingers grazed the cover, old and worn, obviously well-read and well-loved. It had a picture of a woman with wings and a pretty dress on it. You couldn’t read the other words on it just yet, you were still learning how to read the bigger ones.

“Want me to read you some of the stories in it?” He inquired.

“Uh-huh.” You nod.

Your father flipped the pages open, and hummed again, softer.

“Now, let’s start with the tale of Isis and the Seven Scorpions…”

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You jumped, almost dropping the egg timer you had in your hand when your shop’s door dinged and swung open. A frantic young woman rushed inside, her sunken and baggy eyes looking at you, wide with fright.

You skipped the usual welcome and regarded her with a confused expression.

“I… Can I help you–”

“Please, I just need to–to hide!” She said, rushing over to you and gripping your hand, pulling you behind her and further into the winding shelves that made up your bookstore.

“Hey, Hey.” You say, putting your hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“My–my boyfriend. He… He’s… I messed up and burned lunch and…” She looked to the side trying to check if he somehow didn’t materialize out of thin air over her shoulder when she wasn’t looking; and when she did… you saw them.

The already darkening bruises on her delicate throat.

Immediately you went into protector mode. You gently urge her towards the door leading to the stairwell that went up to your flat above.

“You hide up there, and call 999, okay?” You say to her. “You can stay here until the police arrive. If it makes you feel safer, there’s a deadbolt to the door up there. If your boyfriend comes in I’ll act like I didn’t see anything.”

You rush to the oven when you hear the timer go off, and pull out the scones (after slipping on your mitts), when the bell to your store dings.

You curse under your breath and say to the girl quietly. “Stay quiet, honey. I’ll be up when the police get here.”

You carefully slip the tasty treats onto a plastic tray and toss the pan into the sink with a clang; instantly regretting it when the young woman flinched and curled into herself, her arms instinctively reaching to cover her head.

You muttered and apology and balanced the pan on your hand as you hastily make your way down the stairs, to see whomever was incessantly dinging your “ring me!” button at the register.

When you finally break free of the labyrinthine bookshelves, you spot a rather large and angry looking man.

This had to be the boyfriend.

“Hello, one moment, please.” You say tersely, sliding the scones into the small display case showcasing the fresh treats of the day.

“Oi, you seen somebody come in here?” He demanded gruffly.

You take another visual sweep of his appearance. Rather big build, probably abuses the gym too much. He looks like he exclusively dines on protein shakes more than food… He could be trouble, if he got violent. The only upside is that you knew the layout of your little shop by heart, he didn’t. You really wished you had a gun under the counter, right about now.

You made a mental note to sign up for the courses and get the certificate from the police..

“Other than you, no, you’d be my first customer of the day.” You force the cheer into your tone as you bring a box of books and begin to half-assedly place them, hoping to look normal.

“Ain’t no fuckin’ customer.” He growled. “Don’ want no books.”

“Well, I also offer a variety of coffees, teas, and snacks–”

“I ain’t no fuckin’ customer!” He barked, getting in your face.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. That explains the slurred speech.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask that you please back away, you’re a little too close…” You say, your hands up in a submissive gesture, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible.

"Does it look like I giv' a fuck? Ya fuckin' muppet?" He hissed at you, his eyes dilated and glassy.

"Look, I don't want to cause trouble, but–"

He seized your arm and gripped it painfully tight, you could feel the crunch of your radiocarpal joint being squeezed under his rough and indelicate fingers. "Did ya hear me, ya fuckin' cunt? I'm lookin' for my girl, I know she came in here! Don't lie t' me!"

"Sir, people come into my store all the time, and it's not really my business why unless they buy a book or a muffin. Let me go!" You retort, trying to pry his fingers from around you with your free hand.

"Shut th' fuck up!" He snarled, pushing you back against the bookshelf so hard the back of your head cracked on one of the shelves. Great, another pain.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" An unmistakably American accent called from the door of your shop.

How had you missed the bell? How did you not notice the sound of the door opening?

The drunken man holding you turned, still gripping you. "Great, another fuckin' yank? Can't you fucks stick to ya own country?"

You felt your pulse quicken, and your eyes widened at the man who stood in the door; dark, honey-tinted eyes aflame with anger. But the man the eyes belonged to?

Dead ringer for Steven. But he carried himself entirely differently, he even had his hair styled back in a different way. He wore a white hoodie, faded blue jeans, and some steel-toe boots.

"None o' ya fuckin' busniess, you dick." The man sneered, looking back down at you.

"It is if you're hurting the lady." He said gruffly.

"Oi, you got a listening problem?"

The man turned again, but he was met with the knuckles of the American man who just came to your aid; straight to his jaw, knocking him back against a cart you had full of discount books, sending them to the floor with a clatter.

The man cracked his knuckles, before gently grabbing you by the shoulder and moving you behind him for cover.

At this distance you could just barely catch a whiff of sandalwood and some kind of spice. A hint of aftershave wafted into your senses in accompany.

"You fuckin' dick!" The man grunted, shaking his head in an attempt to reorient his brain.

"You need a better repertoire of insults, buddy. Or stop hitting the sauce." The other man sneered. "Probably both."

The drunk lunged at him, and this guy was one step ahead, intercepting him by grabbing his wrists.

The crunch of bone was enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut, and when you dared to peek again, the drunk was clutching at his now bleeding and broken nose. Your savior on the other hand?

Barely broke a sweat. He headbutted him with the hardest part of his head, crunching bone and cartilage.

"Stay down, asshole." He growled. You spun on your heels to look at the door when two clothed officers came in, hands on their pepper spray.

"Everybody just calm down!" One of them shouted.

Ugh. Now you had a headache…

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

By the time the officers, the battered girl, and her boyfriend all left, it was just you and your knight in shining hoodie. Who looked way too much like Steven.

You sat him down at one of the reading nooks and shakily wring your hands out to calm down. "Uh… Yeah, so…" You try.

"My name's Marc. Marc Spector." He said. "You, uh… met my brother, already. Steven."

You gasp. "The heathen!"

He choked out a startled laugh. "What?"

"Oh! Uhhhhhh…" You clear your throat awkwardly trying to change the subject. "You and Steven have different last names!"

Marc huffed through his nose. "It's uh… a long story."

"What, were you guys separated at birth or something? He speaks with a typical Londoner accent, you're full-blown American." You smile.

"Or something." Marc murmured, unable to meet your eyes.

"God, and Steven and I joked about my life being a setup for a book." You giggle softly. "You guys sound like you're straight out of a Dickens novel!"

Marc kind of squirmed in his seat. "Yeah…"

"So, uh… what brings you here today? From what Steven told me, you don't exactly pick up books all the time like he does." You say to him, tilting his head.

Marc wiped at his face with a groan, "Ugh. Don't get me started on Steven's books! He has too goddamn many–"

"Ah!" You say, flicking a stray curl. You weren't sure why your brain told you that was okay to do. It just felt right. The look he gave you afterwards sent your heart leaping into your throat.

Raw confusion, maybe some surprise?

"Uh… No talking like that is allowed in my store, there, pal…" You stammer out. "So… why are you here?"

"Steven said you had coffee. Didn't feel like dealing with a lot of people today." He kind of mumbled.

"Oh, I get that." You sighed softly in sympathy. Already, Marc struck you as the kinda guy who didn't like dealing with people unless he had to.

And honestly, you kinda felt for the guy. Something about him made your heart twinge in a funny little way.

"Tell you what, as a thanks for helping take care of that asshat, coffee is on the house, and I'll even give you a cup of my personal blend instead of the stuff on the menu."

"Uh, you don't have to–"

"Ah!" You say, wagging a finger at him as you walk away. "None of that in my store!"

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You sat and talked for a while. Hours, really. Whereas Steven loved to babble about things he knew, and was rather energetic about it, Marc was… reserved. Shy, almost. He was content to let you lead the conversations, piping in here or there on a subject.

He told you some about his time in the Marines, and how something happened to him mentally that got him discharged early. He was vague about what he did after that, but he mentioned moving to London after he and his wife ran into problems.

At first you almost asked a rather impertinent question, "Why did you guys split up?" But decided that was far too rude of a thing to ask. Even if you wondered why he married outside of a soulmate bond. Even if a marriage like that wasn't entirely uncommon…

"I'm sorry." You say softly, sitting across from him, your coffee long finished, the mug cold. "You've been through… a lot..."

"Yeah, you can certainly say that." Marc sighed, turning his mug in his hands for probably the hundredth time.

"So… Thanks again. For y'know. Helping me." You smile.

"No problem, easy enough to deal with a drunk." He shrugged. "And he looked like he was about to hurt you, so I had to do... something."

"Well I'm glad you did that something." You chuckle.

Marc cleared his throat and smiled back, a soft thing on his face, really. But it was nice to see.

He moved to stand, "I should, ah… go. Thanks for the coffee." He reached out to hand you a few notes from his wallet, and you declined, gathering the mugs to go wash them.

"Nope, I already said it was on the house." You tell him.

"But–"

"No buts!" You called out as you vanished into the expanse of bookshelves.

When you came back, you noticed that, stacked neatly on the counter, was a bundle of notes, your egg timer sitting neatly atop it, with a post-it note simply saying:

"Tell me your life story next time. Thanks. -Marc."

Chapter 4: Link

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 33

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: none :))

Words: 3943

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashionstyle-blog @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani @iamkookiesforyou @dragons-flare @fangirl125reader @roseidol @frieschan @popcatx0 @liz67900 @exfolitae @plexcaffeinate @strawblueberrys

(open)

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Jimin couldn't contain the soft, exciting flutters he felt in his heart. You were so sweet, surprising his pack with a little sweet treat. How cute was that?

The alpha decided then and there that he would try his very best to help you make the tastiest, creamiest cupcakes that have ever existed.

„Should we start then, baby princess?” He asked you gently, pulling slightly from you and letting his hands rest on your cheeks.

His eyes were soft and held a caring gaze, just as every time Jimin looked at you. Your tiny nod made him smile once again, gently pecking the top of your head before he pulled away.

„What are the ingredients we need, precious?” The alpha said gently, combing through your hair. He has worn his own apron by now too, and so both of you were ready to start baking.

You read the list of things needed for the almond cupcakes and the vanilla butter cream; the ingredients were quite many.

Even though the pack had very fine almond flour and even almond milk, Jimin felt guilt pang at his heart when he realised that they didn't have the almond butter needed.

„Baby Princess, we don't have that; Alpha is very sorry; How about we use just the regular unsalted butter instead?” He softly said, looking at you.

The little shrug of the shoulders he received in answer made him smile a little. It would be an okay substitute, he came to the conclusion, and so he took out the butter and placed it on the counter with the growing pile of other things.

„...and half a cup of s-sliced almonds.” You said everything needed for the batter is now named. Jimin nodded a little, going over to the tall cupboard before he opened it.

There were a few things laying around, mostly a few glasses of honey and different sweet sauces, but there were also a few packages of nuts as the alpha rummaged through, pulling out the almonds.

The eldest packmate would often bake and cook when he would get stressed, before important comebacks, or when he was about to have his first concert of his own solo music.

Jin was a really good baker and had a lot of experience with certain things; the alpha always knew how to use the seemingly intricate devices Jimin had never seen in person.

Whenever they had more free time, nowdays more often as they entered the hiatus era and had more time to do what they wished to do, not what was required, Jin started enjoying baking more and more.

The eldest enjoyed the precision, especially when he could use the new things, gadgets, and techniques he had just learned.

He would often make simpler things to eat, but from time to time, a very complicated dish would also be mastered.

And so, things like churros or éclairs, focaccia bread, banana bread, or a strawberry cream cake were quite usual to be seen.

The last time, though, the eldest made the prettiest macaroons, pink in colour, and the texture was like no other.

Since then, a short while has passed, and you have entered their lives now, but Jimin was in no doubt Jin would be a much better baker and overall cook to guide you through the recipe.

He could also imagine the elder grumbling about you cooking with the younger first, rather than with him.

For sure, though, he would quickly forgive and forget when he got to taste the sweet treats you two would make for the pack. If they go well, that is.

Jimin started preheating the oven to a quite high temperature, quickly coming back to your side to start preparing the batter with you; the electronic scale was already out.

„Here, princess, you pour the flour in, and I'll tell you when it's the right weight. Don't worry, Alpha will take good care of everything precious." He said gently to you, ripping open the sealed, regular flour package.

You nodded a little, carefully scooping into the bowl large spoonfuls after spoonfuls, the older man gently stopping you after you hit the right amount.

You reached for the almond flour next, and the phone with the opened instructions was before the both of you, so you only took a short glance.

Though, as you tried to pull apart the tightly sealed packaging, you couldn't do much; your fingers were either too slippery or something else was wrong.

Jimin heard you whine from where he was very lightly greasing up the silicone moulds for the future cupcakes, abandoning whatever he was doing and coming over right away.

„Aigoo, princess, Alpha will help; it's okay, baby." He said gently, cooing softly as he pecked your temple sweetly before he took the packaging from you, quickly opening it for you.

You both repeated the process, weighting the almond flour, continuing on with the baking powder and baking soda, and the vanilla sugar package.

Jimin helped you whisk the dry ingredients together, showing you how to hold the whisk correctly when he saw your slightly awkward grip.

The alpha smiled softly as he saw the excitement. He gently hugged you close to himself, letting his cheek rub up against your hair.

You didn't smell so happy since you came to them; even when they could sense in your scent from time to time that you were excited, it was only now this sweet to Jimin's nose.

He took out another bowl, going to prepare the wet ingredients. First he started cracking the six eggs, having your palms sweetly hidden underneath his, as he carefully cracked the last two eggs with your help.

None of the shell got inside, making you smile widely. You were used to first dropping the egg in a separate cup so a shell wouldn't possibly ruin any progress, as you weren't that good at fishing it out.

Quick to praise you, Jimin let his chin rub up against your hair sweetly, his own smile almost blinding. „My 'mega is so clever, hm?” He said softly, happy to have you safe and close.

You both washed your hands soon after and went on with the second bowl, adding in the granulated sugar, vegetable oil, almond milk, and butter, even though it that meant to be a bit different.

The alpha helped you mix up the seemingly stubborn butter; even when you placed it in the microwave earlier, it still had small pieces unmelted in it, and soon after, you poured the liquid into the flour mix.

There was quite a lot to whisk together, and so when you tried but couldn't do much, Jimin was quick to reassure you, quickly combining the two and making sure not to overmix.

„Here baby, how about you prepare the almonds now, while is whisk, princess? We just have to fold those in soon, precious.” He said gently.

You nodded happily, measuring half the cup of the sliced almonds, and just as you finished, Jimin gently let you pour in a bit at the time, folding the batter over so everything would get well combined.

„Princess, you did such a great job! Let's prepare the cupcakes and have them bake now, okay?” You nodded happily, the alpha bringing over the pan that had the silicone mould already placed on it.

With the alpha's sweet help, you carefully scooped the batter into each of the cups so none would overfill. You soon filled up the whole twelve-cup form.

Pecking your forehead happily, Jimin took the tray before he carried it over to the oven, making sure you weren't too close so the warmed-up air wouldn't harshly hit you before he placed the pan inside.

He helped you set the timer on his phone, and so while the 23 minutes were counted down, you and him started the cream that would then be put on top.

„Here, sweet princess, alpha will help." He said gently, taking the cleaned-up whisk before he started beating the butter, granulated sugar, and vanilla extract until a thicker consistency was created.

The vanilla butter cream didn't take too much time to make, with the alpha letting you carefully add in the almond milk one tablespoon at a time until the right consistency was achieved.

„Precious, here have a little... Is it good?” You let Jimin scoop up a little bit of the icing, letting you taste the cream. It was very tasty, that was for sure.

„It's good, oppa!” You smiled, the alpha having a small taste himself, nodding approvingly. And so, he helped you transfer it all into a star tip piping bag, carefully placing it into the fridge so it wouldn't turn too liquid over time.

„Princess, look at the different sprinkles and things we can try, and alpha will clean up quickly." Jimin said gently, washing his hands underneath the faucet after you had

You nodded a little, going over to the large table where the alpha had previously taken out all the different decorations that could be used.

You decided that you liked the white, pearl-like sprinkles the best, along with the pastel-coloured, circular regular ones.

The edible flowers caught your attention, and so, out of everything, you decided to decorate the now-cooling cupcakes with them too.

You showed the alpha, the man, making sure to praise your choice well, claiming that „Those will be so cute together, princess! Great choice; alphas will for sure be very happy!”

And so he helped you put the ones of your choice aside before he started putting all of the other ones away, carefully storing them back in a box.

Soon after, Jimin realised that it would probably be a good idea to have something for lunch, as the earliest of the noon was arriving quickly.

The man looked into the fridge, taking out a few of the leftovers. He would feel much better if he had made you a fresh dish, but that would probably take him quite a while, and he wasn't sure if he would have the time for that.

And so, he soon reheated the stir-fried rice and the chicken popcorn, still left from a bit ago, plating you a good meal.

After handing you a glass of orange juice, he too took a seat and went on to eat.

The alpha, just as usual, fed you mostly himself, choosing the tastiest and best-looking bites of meat to please your taste buds.

„Baby princess here, have a little more." He would say gently, giving you another forkful of rice and feeding you while smiling widely.

„Koji called Jungkookie earlier today; he and Moonsik want to go with you somewhere this afternoon; would you like to go precious?”

Jimin asked you sweetly, having you currently chew on a piece of thinly sliced pickled radish. Your big eyes made him waver a bit; he thought you liked the omega?

„Princess, don't worry, you don't have to go if you don't want to! It's okay, sweetheart-"

„B-But the cupcakes?” You whined softly, a small pout on your lips. Jimin breathed out a little, nervous for a second that you didn't want to go because of something else.

„No, don't worry, princess. We can finish them right after the food, hm? You can go out after, how about that?” Jimin would have to leave soon anyway, and the alpha felt better having you with someone than completely alone.

„O-okay!” You said, a small smile on your lips as the alpha smiled widely himself, pecking your temple gently.

Soon, the lunch was finished, and the alpha loaded the dishwasher after he carefully helped you take out the cupcakes, handing you the icing too.

You sat at the dining table once again, practicing your icing skills on a small part of the tray where there was enough space, while Jimin went to make the call with Moonsik.

You didn't really listen in, going to try and ice your first cupcake, wanting it to be very perfect for the alphas.

It had to be more than perfect, you told yourself, and just as you went to try your best, Jimin approached you, his hand gently combing through your hair.

„Princess, Moonsik Hyung wants to speak with you, baby." The alpha gently chucked, handing you the phone as he gently helped you take the icing from your seemingly too busy hands.

You took the call to your ear, a bit unsure of what you were meant to say, choosing to whisper out an almost inaudible: Hello? 

„Y/N? Hey, it's Moonsik from the mall... How are you?” The beta's voice was velvety and smooth, sweet to your ears. Not as sweet as your oppa's voices, though.

„Hi M-Moonsik, I'm okay...” You said softly, unsurely looking over at the alpha while he wiped down the counter and the table, the man encouraging you with his sweet eyes.

„That's good; I'm glad. Yuki has been asking about you all the time, and he would really like to go somewhere with you again, so maybe if you have time and-”

In the background of the call, you could hear a voice you recognised well—the seemingly always excited and happy omega talking loud enough for it to be audible.

„Is that Y/N? Hyungie, let's talk with her!” The younger whined, and the beta was talking with a hushed voice, saying that he would get to talk to you later.

„I w-would like to g-go please...” You said quietly, a bit nervous about any sudden rejection you might not expect. Though you were met with none, Moonsik answered.

„Okay, great! I'm sure Yuki will be very happy to hear that, and I'm excited too. Let's meet in front of the art store again, like last time. When is the right time for you?”

You weren't sure if the beta expected you to have a packed schedule; though he was very far from right.

You would continue your studies hopefully soon, and you still had that doctor appointment in close time as your heat was coming closer and closer, but other than that...

Your shoulders shrugged unconsciously, not realising that the beta on the other side wouldn't be able to see. You looked over to Jimin; the alpha just took a seat to your right.

„Wh-when should I-I go oppa?” You whispered, hoping that Moonsik wouldn't hear. Considering the voice of Yuki on the other side of the call, the beta had a bit to worry about now.

„Well, I have to go to a photoshoot at 14.00, so I'll have to leave a little bit before that. Do you want to go with someone or alone?” He asked softly, combing through your hair.

You were definitely not ready to go completely on your own; the thought was very overwhelming. You liked Yuki, and you liked Moonsik, but going with them both on your own was quite nerve-wracking.

„Wi-th a-alpha...” You whispered, Jimin noticing how your scent got more anxious and worried and immediately nodding.

„That's okay, princess. Someone will go with you, hm? How about you meet up with them at 14.00?” That was a good hour and a half away, and so you nodded, telling Moonsik about yours and Jimin's suggestion.

Soon after, the meet-up was planned, with the beta saying sweet goodbyes and Yuki in the background excitedly talking about the stores he wanted to go to with you.

You handed the phone back to the alpha, the man gently kissing your temple. And so, you got back to the decorating, making your first swirl with the icing.

„Princess, you are so clever! Alpha is very proud." Jimin gasped softly, watching as you carefully placed the individual pearls and sprinkled the colourful ones.

The alpha helped you take out the edible flowers, letting you find the best spot for each one. You were a natural, and the alpha noticed, making sure to praise you well whenever you finished a cupcake.

He helped you sweetly, taking the finished and decorated cupcakes and putting them into the paper wrappings he took out earlier, gently putting them on a clean, large plate.

Jimin made sure to not mess up any of your cute work; none of the carefully iced sharp tops even touched, and the vanilla butter icing kept clean.

With the star tip, it looked very cute, the alpha came to a conclusion, snapping a few photos of you while you iced.

He didn't get to take many pictures while you both were preparing the batter, but now he had time, and he decided to fill up his whole gallery with you.

And so you decorated prettily, the cupcakes having cute, flowery fairy vibes, maybe reminding you a little bit of wedding cake considering that the icing was only a little bit off white.

You could have coloured it, you realised, but you liked how everything looked, with the small pops of colour adding to it and making everything look pretty.

„Princess, you did so well! Alpha is very happy and proud, my precious baby; that's so nice!” He gushed, taking photos of the cupcakes, claiming that they looked: „Just like from a five-star bakery!”

Jimin was sure that you were a secretly hidden baker, and he was also very sure that when his packmates saw the cupcakes and the cute photos, they would lose their minds.

Soon after, you and the alpha cleaned up, letting the pretty-looking pastries stay on the kitchen table for the packmembers to oogle at and stare at when they would come back to the packhouse sometime that day.

It didn't take too long before it was only about half an hour until 14, and so Jimin helped you tie your shoes properly, having you take on a thick puffer jacket and a beanie, not wanting you to get cold.

„There you go, my princess. 's you stay nice and warm for alphas." He whispered gently, putting on his coat and boots.

The outside weather stayed cold and snowy, and so as the alpha opened the front doors, he held your hand tightly, not wanting you to slip on the ice hidden underneath the snow.

Jimin led you quickly to the garage, choosing one of his cars he would drive today. He took you to the Porsche Panamera, the black, shiny car pretty and obviously expensive.

He unlocked the doors quickly, opening the entrance as he helped you settle in, quickly bending over to buckle you in, and pecking your forehead.

The alpha smiled at you widely for a few seconds, his cheek rubbing up against yours sweetly, before he closed the doors for you and climbed into the driver seat, turning on the heating right away.

The inside of the vehicle was quite cold, and so he held your hands in his for a good few seconds, gently rubbing them with his and breathing on them, warming your icy fingers up.

Soon, the interior got warmer, though, and so when Jimin claimed it was warm enough and your cheeks didn't remind him of ice popsicles when he would touch them anymore, he let the garage doors open and started driving out of the house.

„Princess, what should we listen to, precious baby?” He asked you gently as he looked carefully both ways before he entered the road on his way towards Hybe.

You turned on the touchscreen, going over to the radio and podcast options, unsure what would be better. Jimin glanced over shortly, keeping his eyes on the road.

„At the bottom left are the nice stations that will keep my little 'mega happy and settled, hm? Let's play those, princess."

The alpha said gently, helping you select the right station he has previously bought the subscription for.

Jimin was very happy he got so many opportunities to spoil you, not only in different ways to settle and keep you safe and calm, but in other things too.

To be truthful, he had bought quite a few things for you already. He wasn't about to stop anytime soon; the alpha visited Tiffany & Co. quite often, for he was the brand's ambassador for once, but he liked their jewellery a lot in general.

The alpha has already purchased you a few things, some pretty-looking sets that reminded him of you.

He noticed you didn't have your ears pierced, which made sense to the alpha quite a lot.

Omegas were normally quite sensitive, and to be honest, Jimin couldn't even remember once meeting one that had any piercings.

He didn't mind, though, and was completely content with having you wear whatever was most comfortable and nice for you.

And so, as the soft, lo-fi-like music played through the good sound system of the vehicle, the alpha drove carefully over to the Hybe building.

Jimin let you take his phone when you got bored along the ride, your little fingers grasping the device as you took little photos and videos of the things you were passing by, the snow and sun making everything glittery and pretty.

He couldn't help but coo at you, seeing how excited you were in the background, making sure to keep fully quiet so no noise would disturb your video footage.

You even turned off the radio again, claiming that that wouldn't sound nice in the video, having Jimin giggle lightly.

The alpha soon shushed though, so he wouldn't disturb you, and just drove safely, having you take videos upon videos of the birds sitting on the side roads when they would wait at the red light.

When you arrived at the underground garage, Jimin got out of the car first, carefully pocketing his phone before he went over to you.

Opening the doors, the alpha smiled softly at you, undoing your seatbelt before he tightly zipped up the jacket they got for you, helping you up.

„Here, baby, alpha has got you. Let's go now, hm? Someone is waiting for you already!” He said, wanting you to be surprised by whichever alpha chose to spend your time today with you.

He must have succeeded, as you jiggled your shoulders in excitement, pulling Jimin towards the doors that would lead further into the building.

The alpha chuckled softly, locking up the car before he took your hand, tightly holding it as he kissed the top of your head.

„Let's go then, eager beaver.” He chuckled lightly, opening up the doors with his own keycard, before letting you enter first and calling the elevator.

You bounced on your feet. Not only were you excited to have made the cupcakes with the alpha to surprise the others today, one of them would even go with you to the mall!

And Yuki and Moonsik would be there with you, and that for sure would be great fun, you thought, and so you tugged on Jimin's hand lightly, a sweet whine leaving you.

How much longer was this elevator ride going to take?

The alpha smiled widely, his nose brushing up against your temple and coming over to yours as he gently gave you a bunny kiss.

„Aigoo, princess, don't worry. Not much longer.” He tried to calm you down, smiling softly. Just than did the elevetor ding, arriving to one of the highest levels of the building. 

The doors opened, and when you saw the packmate, waiting right behind them, your smile grew wide, quickly jumping over. 

You hugged the man tightly, the alpha picking you up before he let his chin rub over your hair.

„My sweetest little pup, baby, alpha missed you!” The packalpha gushed, happy to have you in his arms again.

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

[rookthorne]

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 | 𝐉.𝐁.𝐁

Pairing ➷ Baker!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Word Count ➷ 965 Warnings ➷ Fluff, pet names Author's Note ➷ My third and final submission for @the-slumberparty's week 2 creator challenge - and it is also my late contribution to Valentine's Day... so happy Valentine's Day to y'all!

Slumberparty Masterlist

𝑪𝑶𝑶𝑲𝑰𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑵  : ̗̀➛ a sweet biscuit having a fairly soft, chewy texture and typically containing pieces of chocolate or fruit.

There were very few plans you had come up in your life with that rivalled the sheer brilliance of what you decided to do - ‘twas the belated day for it, anyway. 

Time had slipped through your fingers, so much so you hadn’t realised Valentines Day had already passed by with not even as little as a notice, nor a message. It was the curse of working so hard; late nights, early mornings, so on and so forth. 

Your morning commute didn’t differ in its crowds - people bustling back and forth, rushing to get to their 9 to 5 jobs, or rushing to get to class on time. Though, you did not mind, your thoughts were too occupied on whether you truly were going to pull off such a brazen idea.

It wasn’t reckless per se, but it was out of your norm. A bakery on your usual route to work had signs out, declaring their cookies and treats to be the best in Brooklyn. You didn’t disagree whatsoever, but it wasn’t thoughts of the baked goods that your mind was clouded with, no–it was the baker that occupied the counter. His smile was beautiful, bright enough to light up even the dreariest days, and you couldn’t help but be pulled under the swell of his ocean blue eyes. 

Subconsciously, or instinctually, you found yourself before the very doors to that bakery with no recollection how you had got there, though you weren’t sour for the thought. You could see him talking with customers, bagging up fresh loaves of bread and slices of cakes with that same damn smile that enchanted you. 

The door opened with a whoosh and a tinkling of the bell, and you were inside.

“Have a nice day, ma’am,” he said, his voice smooth. The woman smiled and waved, leaving the bakery with bags and bags of sweet treats.

Another customer stepped forward to be served and you browsed the selection, a little overwhelmed; chocolate this and chocolate that, strawberry this and strawberry that, it was a wonder there were so many ways to use the same flavour in entirely new ways. You were no connoisseur, but you knew baking was an art. 

“Hey,” he called. “Whatcha after today?”

You turned and smiled brightly, trying to will your heart to slow the tattoo it beat against your ribs. “I’m not sure actually,” you offered, sheepish. “I lost track of time and…” A better idea struck you. “I didn’t have time to get a gift before Valentine's Day, so I have to make up for that.”

The man laughed and rounded the counter. “Alright, now that is something I can help with. My name is Bucky, by the way.” You offered yours, and Bucky smiled. “What does your partner like?”

“I want to surprise them, see, they don’t have a favourite–I just know that they love your sweets.” It was a wonder you kept a straight face at the admission, your plan depended on it, and the delighted smile on Bucky’s lips almost broke your facade. 

“The choc chip is by far the most popular, and not to be biassed–one of my favourites.” Bucky directed you towards the clear glass jars where a label was connected with twine, neat script defined ‘chocolate chip’. “And then there’s these,” Bucky continued, pointing towards a cream coloured biscuit with a heart shaped indent, filled to the brim with jam. “They are a safe, but still loved, classic for Valentine’s; even if it is belated.”

“Do you like them?” You asked, peering closer at the dusted sugar and how it sparkled under the soft lighting. 

Bucky nodded next to you. “It was my ma’s recipe.”

“Perfect,” you sighed happily. “I’ll take some choc chip ones and these,” you pointed towards the heart biscuits. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“No worries, doll,” Bucky grinned. Oh, the things you would do to see that smile all the time. 

A few moments later you met Bucky at the counter to pay, a shy smile on your face when you felt the slight crinkle of paper in your hand. Under the guise of digging through your bag, you wrote your phone number on a loose piece of paper and prayed to whoever would listen that this would work. 

Bucky gave you the total with a happy smile and you waved your card. “Here you are,” Bucky said, handing you the bag full of the sweets he had ever so carefully packed. “I hope they like them, be sure to give my thanks for such high praise.”

“I will,” you rushed, grabbing the bag. Bucky turned to the box behind him and fiddled with something, and you took your chance; the slip of paper with your number fell neatly on top of the sealed boxes, its placement obvious and impossible to miss. “Actually, Bucky?”

“Yeah?” Bucky said, turning with a raised brow. “What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you offered the bag back to him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Bucky stared. Shock, bewilderment, and amusement flashed in his pretty eyes as they flicked between you and the offered bag, before finally settling on endearment; a smile and wide eyes softening his features. 

“Oh, doll,” Bucky breathed, taking the bag back and brushing his fingers against yours. His gaze flicked into the bag and his eyes grew even wider. 

Before he could say anymore, you squeaked and skipped to the door. “Enjoy!”

Not even ten minutes later, your phone chimed as you walked through crowds to get to work. You pulled it free and let out a breath. It was an unknown number and an attachment, though what it contained told you exactly who had messaged. 

Thank you for that, sugar. 😘

The attachment, much to your utter delight, was a selfie of Bucky’s bright smile, blue eyes, and he was holding up the piece of paper with your number. You floated on cloud nine for the rest of the day as you worked; giddy, excited, and happy.

↠  𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ↞

[topguncortez]

Made With Love- T. Kazansky

word count: 700 genre: fluff:) requested: yes

Note: my requests for full fics are NOT open, HOWEVER, I will always accept asks/requests for blurbs, moodboards, fake social media posts, etc :) I also don't have a general tag list anymore but HIGHLY recommend you follow my library page @cortezslibrary and turn on post notifications

Iceman would never admit it out loud, and if he knew that you were telling people, he would blow a gasket. But Iceman’s third favorite thing in the world (behind you, of course, and flying) was baking. He learned to back as a young boy, sitting on the counter and watching his mom bake anything from cookies, to brownies, to pies. Whenever Ice was having a bad day, he knew that when he got home there would be some sort of baked goods on the counter with his name on it. When his mother passed, Iceman inherited all of her cookbooks, and recipe cards. 

That was one of the ways you knew that Ice had a bad day at work, was when you came home to the smell of vanilla and warm bread. You sighed and kicked off your shoes, wondering what kind of baking mess you were going to be met with. Tom wasn’t always the cleanest baker, tending to throw flour and egg everywhere. 

“Bad day?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen. Tom looked up from the loaf of bread he was kneading and nodded, “New brownie recipe?” 

“Yeah, black walnuts and white chocolate,” Ice said, pointing to the pan of brownies that sat by the window sill, “Slider asked me to try them, saying his mom used to make them like that all the time.” 

“And these?” You asked, picking up the tin of cookies. You were surprised your cabinets weren’t bursting at the seams with how much tupperware was stored in them. 

“Rhubarb bars!” Ice smiled, “Viper’s wife sent him with fresh rhubarb for me to use.” 

You shook your head, smiling at your husband. You walked over to him, and wrapped your arms around his waist, and laid your head between his shoulder blades. Ice sighed and put his hands on yours. He looked around the kitchen that was covered in baked goods. One thing he loved about you was that you never pried. You always let him talk to you when he was ready. 

“It was Mav,” Ice said. You removed your arms from around his waist as he reached for a raspberry cheesecake cookie. 

“What happened?” You asked, and took a cookie from the same tin. 

“He’s just out of control again. I think it’s got something to do with Bradley’s birthday coming up. . .” Ice looked down at his hands. You nodded, it was coming up on Bradley’s first birthday since Goose’s death. Carole had even asked Ice if he would make a birthday cake for the little boy. Ice quickly agreed and had gone out to buy a bunch of dinosaur themed cake toppers. 

“And how do you feel?” 

“I feel. . . overwhelmed. I don’t really know what to think about it. I try not to let my mind drift there but I can’t help it,” Ice had shared after Goose’s death the guilt that he felt about it. That first night you held Ice as he woke up in a cold sweat. Ice didn’t go back to bed that night, but spent nearly three days baking everything under the sun. You knew that he needed to seek help when you woke up at 3AM to the fire alarm going off, and Tom Kazansky in tears. 

“Well,” You pushed off the counter and walked over to him, “You can always talk to me. As much as I love your baking,” Tom smiled, “I am always here for you to talk to.” 

“I know, and I love you for it,” Ice said, and ran his hands down your sides. You smiled and leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead. Ice chuckled, and grabbed your face gently, bringing you in for a real kiss. 

“Mm, you taste like chocolate chip cookies,” You said against his lips. 

“In the green tupperware on the table.” 

You smiled and pecked his lips before going over to where he said. The tupperware was still warm as you opened the top and grabbed a cookie. You moaned as you took a bite of the soft gooey cookie. 

“God, I am so glad our child is going to have a parent who can bake.” 

Ice chuckled, as he went back to kneading the bread he was working on earlier, “Yeah, we’re gonna win all the- wait, what did you just say?” He looked up at you, and you gave him a tight lipped smile. 

“Surprise?”

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana Recipes: Asra's French Toast

Remember months and months ago when a friend sent me the link to the official recipe for Selasi's pumpkin bread and I made it? It turns out that there's two more recipes that were posted to official socials in 2020!

So here's Asra's pumpkin brioche french toast, and how it went when I made it (pictures and details under the cut)

The trickiest part of this was how few measurements are provided. Beyond the ratio of one egg to one tablespoon of brown sugar, everything else is to taste. Here's the mixture before and after adding the milk:

The recipe didn't specify what kind of bread to use, beyond the title in the original post calling it brioche and the short glimpse in the video before it's submerged. I ended up going with the homemade whole wheat bread that I bake every week, but I'm pretty sure any sliced bread will work just fine!

My pieces did fall apart a little bit, if only because my slices were so absorbent. Like any french toast it's better to go with a lower heat and some patience to make sure it's cooked the whole way through. In this case, there was the added effect of partially caramelizing the brown sugar in the mixture which was so good.

(excuse the turkey bacon in the back, I was hosting my younger siblings for dinner and roped them into the fandom shenanigans)

The finished product is supposed to be served with maple syrup and pecans, but I didn't have any pecans so we just had it with syrup. We were all really impressed with how it turned out. It doesn't taste hugely different from normal french toast, but the added depth and twists of flavor just take it to a whole new level. 10/10 this is my default recipe for french toast now and I'm going to be thinking about this for weeks (I mean I knew Asra could cook but I didn't know he was a culinary genius what the heck)-

So ... should I make Mazelinka's soup next?

[feyburner]

hello mr feyburner sir i really want to get into baking but i am scared to mess up and recipes terrify me. i only know one simple sponge cake recipe that my mom taught me anyway point is what were the things you wished you knew before you started baking? i know it’s a lot of trial and error but would you let us know what to start with and how to not get completely overwhelmed by the fact that i am not immediately good at it…

(Also if u have a sponge cake recipe of yours i would love it!!!)

1.

The first step to being less scared is accepting that you are going to mess up. In fact, the more you bake, the more you will mess up; you can’t fuck what you’re not doing. There is no avoiding it. Sometimes your fuckup will be fixable. Sometimes it won’t be fixable but you can still eat the end result. Sometimes it won’t be fixable and also the end result is garbage, and now you’ve wasted 3 hours and a bunch of ingredients, and it is the most frustrating thing in the world. That is just how it goes. I’ve been baking since I was a kid, baking very regularly (like, averaging 1-2x per week) for 5-6 years now, and I fuck up all the time. I fully expect to keep fucking up on a regular basis until the day I die.

What years of practice have given me is not the ability to never fuck up—it’s the ability to understand why I fucked up, what I did wrong, and how to hopefully not do it again.

One of the most common things out of my mouth is: “This is good, but I know what I’ll do differently next time.”

Next time I’ll shape the dough tighter. Next time I’ll let it rise longer. Next time I’ll check for doneness earlier. And so on.

2.

Taste is subjective. Everyone’s kitchen is different and everyone likes different things. Some people want thick, chewy chocolate chip cookies and some people want thin, crispy ones. Some people like a very tight crumb on their sourdough bread and others want air holes so big you can’t butter it. There’s no such thing as a perfect recipe because the point of food is the person eating it.

This is why it’s so rewarding to learn basic techniques and basic baking chemistry as you go. Once you get more comfortable in the kitchen, you can start going off-book. “This looks great but I think I’m gonna want a chewier texture. I’ll use half bread flour and mix the dough a bit longer to really activate the gluten.”

3.

Don’t just pick a random recipe. Especially in the age of 1 million recipe blogs. I always, always read at least 4-5 recipes for the thing I’m trying to make. I read the reviews. I compare and contrast them. If you’re looking at 5 recipes for chocolate chip cookies and only 1 says to add kale, there’s a good chance that’s not the one you want to start with. You can experiment with it later—maybe kale is the secret to the best cookies ever!—but typically you’ll want to start with the standard and deviate from there.

I often take notes on the 4-5 recipes, noting not just differences in ingredient ratios but in technique as well. A good recipe blog will explain to you WHY you’re doing something a certain way. If it doesn’t explain, look it up! Reddit r/baking and r/AskBaking are super helpful. Often someone’s random comment is the reason I learn something incredibly useful that can be applied to tons of recipes.

(I love King Arthur Baking and America’s Test Kitchen for learning technique—the ATK cookbooks are some of my most-referenced. Sally’s Baking Recipes never lets me down for good old American basics. Serious Eats is also very informative, though their recipes are often overly complicated or finicky.)

Often, I won’t simply pick one recipe—I’ll use a little of Recipe A, a little of Recipe B. I did this for a brownie recipe that ended up going viral on Reddit/Youtube which was pretty funny. I don’t necessarily recommend combining recipes when you’re first starting out, but keep it in mind as you go.

No recipe is set in stone. You can always adjust it to your tastes, to what works for you in your kitchen. Make it a little less sweet, a little sweeter, a little denser, a little lighter. Whatever you want. That’s what technique, and understanding how ingredients interact with each other, is about—like artists who learn realistic anatomy but paint in abstract.

4.

It can be hard to compare multiple very similar recipes. This recipe says to use 3 cups of flour and 1/2 cup butter and this recipe says 2 cups flour and 1 cup butter—but Recipe A makes 12 cookies and Recipe B makes 24 cookies. (Or, Recipe A uses volume measurements and Recipe B uses weight.) What does that mean? How do you draw a meaningful comparison?

Math!

Baker’s percentages are your best friend. They’re super easy. Just pick one ingredient to be your baseline—typically flour. That’s 100%. Then calculate the ratio of each ingredient to your flour ratio to easily compare different ingredient amounts.

For example, from my croissant recipe:

500g bread flour

10g kosher salt

150g milk + 100g water, room temp (70°; microwaved 10-15 seconds)

50g white sugar

10g honey

10g active dry yeast

30g (2 Tbsp) butter, softened

+

309g (remainder of 3 sticks after -30g; 62%) butter for lamination, softened, sliced 1” thick

BAKER’S PERCENTAGES:

100% bread flour

2% kosher salt

50% hydration (milk + water)

10% white sugar

2% honey

2% yeast

6% butter

45-62% butter for lamination

How to calculate:

500g flour is my baseline 100%.

What percentage of 500 is 50 (50g sugar)?

50/500 = 0.1 = 10%.

It doesn’t work as well for volume measurements. But many recipes include weight and volume—and you can always convert volume to weight using tools like King Arthur’s Ingredient Weight Chart.

5.

Finally, start with the basics and build. Don’t attempt making a Napoleon or macarons right out of the gate. Start with simple, beginner’s recipes, look up techniques as you go, watch lots of videos, always try to understand the why. Baking is chemistry but it’s also art. It’s whatever you want it to be. Mostly it’s about the house smelling like cinnamon rolls.

*

In summary, you’re going to fuck up and that’s okay. Baking is beautiful, and there’s nothing like the satisfaction of pulling something incredible out of the oven. You will learn and improve as you go, like anything else. You will eat lots of ugly cakes and pastries. But taste is what matters anyway.

Good luck in your baking adventures. Feel free to ask questions anytime. I love sharing what little knowledge I have.

I don’t have a sponge cake recipe but I do have these cake recipes. Let me know how your sponge cake turns out. You got this! 🍰

[slytherinshua]

COOKING WITH PRINCE

genre. fluff. crack. warnings. obv this wouldn't happen irl it's all just for fun <3 i tried to emulate prince's captions in his videos as best i could, as well as his overall vibe but i am just a new ghostie so sry if its a bit inaccurate :( pairing. prince x fem!reader. wc. 720. request. requested by @haecien, here: cooking w prince even if he doesn't get the recipe a/n. mwahaha so ofc i had to start writing for ghost9 babies someday and prince was a good place to start esp since his cooking videos are absolutely amazing (go show them a lot of love if you haven't already as well as prince's (and all of ghost9's) instagram!!!) and stan ghost9 obv

you didn’t plan on crashing your boyfriend’s solo baking fest in the practice room on a random tuesday afternoon

you weren’t even used to the prospect of your boyfriend cooking

for the years you’ve been dating Prince, you have done 100% of the baking in the relationship (though you had always urged him to try it out since it was fun)

ever since his videos have been doing better than anyone could have predicted, he’s been excited to make something with whatever he had on his hands

from the usual baking ingredients along with several very overripe bananas, you could easily tell what he was planning to bake today: banana bread, one of your favourites 

but also knowing your boyfriend, you knew things would probably turn into a disaster if he didn’t have a recipe

so naturally the first thing you asked was to see the recipe he was following

“I swear I had one somewhere when I was gathering the ingredients, but I literally can’t find it.”

he just brushed off your concerns about him possibly poisoning himself, you, and the ghost9 members

“The last time I baked, I didn’t even follow the recipe because it was in cups. It’ll be fine, baby, you just need to have faith.”

you were planning to leave and let him film in peace, but your boyfriend was persistent that you stay especially because he was making one of your favourite baked goods

you relented easily, really it was hard to say no to him, plus the prospect of baking together seemed kind of fun!

more like a chaotic disaster…

most of it was spent playfully arguing over how much of each ingredient to put in

Prince seemed insistent that you should remember exactly how much of every ingredient for him to measure down to the gram

obviously, you didn't, and eventually you stopped trying to help completely and just let him do his thing

though you did stay behind him to supervise, and your hands were visible in the final video messing with his hair and occasionally giving him a loving slap tap on the cheek when he messed something up

once the banana bread was finally in the oven, the two of you joked about what the voiceover should be

you didn't have the highest expectations for how it tasted, but you knew it would at least be pretty good

all the things your boyfriend had cooked in the past had been decently delicious

it turned out pretty well, and you were happy you were there to annoy him help him with it

bonus: what I think the voiceover would be like

welcome back to cooking in the practice room 🧑‍🍳 until I get busted by my manager 🚨👮 today we have a very special guest joining us 👀🥁✨my girlfriend✨ that’s right 😍 us idols 🧑‍🎤🎤 are actually in relationships 😘 despite what most people want to believe! tbh my girlfriend was not 🙅‍♂️ supposed to be joining me today 😔 but we’re making banana bread 🍌🍞 which happens to be her favourite 😍‼️ so I just had to let her join 🤷‍♂️ as you probably know if you watched my chocolate stuffed coffee bun 🍫☕ video, I don’t bake… but my girlfriend does 🎉 I had a recipe for this, but I think peter got hungry 😋 and ate it or something, so no recipe 📄🚫 but again, at least I have my girlfriend 💃 so it should be fine, right? she’s made this hundreds 👩‍🏫 of times 🧑‍🍳🍞 (she’s literally a minion guys idk why she loves bananas so much 🍌⁉️) but despite that she is still somehow clueless 🤓 as to how much flour I should be measuring 😍 but it’s fine 👌 we just dumped sugar 🍭 flour ❕ butter 🧈 bananas 🍌 eggs 🥚 and baking powder into a bowl 🥣 and hoped that they would magically ✨🧙 turn into banana bread 🤔 and guess what 🧐 they did ✨😍 I also added chocolate 🍫 because my girlfriend materialized it out of nowhere 💁‍♀️🍫 I have no one but my girlfriend to thank 😚 for distracting me by pulling on my hair 💆‍♂️ and telling me I was doing it wrong every 2 minutes 😘 but jokes 👎 on her because this banana bread was delicious even without a recipe 😏 10/10 would bake again 🥸

↳ ghost9 taglist: @haecien,, @eternalgyu,, @weird-bookworm,,

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Great Bakeoff (pt 1)

I'm waiting for my dough to rise so let's have some fun and see how several of the blorbos handle making bread :D

Healthcare AU

Malon smiled, hands on her hips as she surveyed all the ingredients and cookware in front of her. She had organized her tools on her counter like a scrub tech would lay out tools for a surgery, which she had noted halfway through with a touch of amusement, but it was routine to her, so she let it carry over into her kitchen.

Today was the day she and Time finally had more than one day off together, and she was choosing to celebrate. Being domestic and making some bread seemed appropriate, and she'd gone to the bakery with Four enough times to want that amazing smell of freshly baked bread wafting through her own home.

Time to get to work. Reading the cookbook, she yelped when she felt hands slide around her waist.

"Oh, you!" she harrumphed, bopping her husband on the face with a roll of paper towels. "I'm trying to bake!"

"I see that," Time noted. "Need some help?"

"The last time you tried to help you set the bread on fire."

"That was only one time, dear."

Malon shooed him. "Go outside and spend some time with the horses like you've been wanting to. I'll meet you out there."

Time smiled and obliged, though not before stealing her dish rag and making her chase him and pay a toll of a kiss for its safe return. Eventually she set to work, focusing and enjoying the task at hand. As she combined flour, yeast, sugar, and salt, she couldn't help but wonder how all of this would make a good loaf.

Well, it doesn't have to be perfect, she supposed. Just edible. I can do edible. I'm a mighty fine cook, after all... or at least I used to be before my nursing career destroyed my free time.

But she'd never baked, and she knew how precise of an art that was.

Malon poured the hot water into the mixture, hesitantly stirring it with a spoon before getting her hands dirty. The first mistake was that she definitely should have put flour on her hands to avoid the dough sticking to her, but it seemed to form together well enough under her hands.

Smiling at her work, Malon covered the dough and set a timer on her phone before washing her hands and strolling out to see Link riding Epona around the field.

Ordon Fam

Uli stress baked and she would be the first one to admit it.

Most of her cooking was meals - hearty stews, egg and milk based recipes, vegetables and the occasional fruit or meat that Rusl would bring. But when her worries clenched her heart and made it to her hands, she would end up buying ingredients off Sera and setting to work.

Today she had to distract Colin while her husband and Link were away in Kakariko, an all-too-quiet rainy morning after such a horrific night. Link had been so dreadfully injured, and Rusl--

Uli bit her cheek, blinking tears away. Colin giggled from her bedroom where he was babysitting Hana.

She let her hands do the work automatically, easing her mind and heart, settling into a familiar, comforting routine. The dough was smooth and bouncy under her hands, a satisfying texture that distracted her enough. She could get her worries out through liberally kneading it, hands and mind so in sync that she hadn't even noticed she'd been abusing the dough for so long the shadows in the house had shifted positions.

Shaking her head, she covered the loaf to let the dough rise, making her way to her children.

The Wildlings

Tilieth stared bemusedly at the ingredients. Her finger bounced from item to item, listing it out loud in an attempt to ensure she had everything. After repeating the word salt four times and staring into the void, she discovered why her brain was short circuiting.

"I forgot flour!" she groaned.

Wait! No, she hadn't forgotten flour, that was literally the most basic ingredient to making bread. She had it somewhere.

One search later, Tilieth had discovered that not only did she have flour, but also shriveled Hylian tomatoes that probably would have benefitted from being eaten a week ago.

Okay. Now she had what she needed.

Excited, she began to mix ingredients, having never made bread before. She wanted to see if she would be any good at baking different kinds of loaves, hoping to try new food and perhaps even share it with her parents and Abel. Her newlywed husband was actually sleeping in for the first time since they'd been married, and she was going to take advantage of it by surprising him.

Rummaging through their kitchen, she paused as she found that she wasn't entirely sure where the measuring cup was. She was certain she had put it in this one cabinet, but...

Ah, wait, her mother had moved it when Til had gotten overwhelmed organizing the new home.

With a triumphant, quiet ha! Tilieth pulled the item in question out and held it up to inspect it happily. She finally had everything she needed.

It wasn't until she was halfway through kneading that she remembered she didn't have a bread knife to cut the loaf that she was halfway through making.

The Princess

Zelda took a steadying breath as she stared at the bowl. Link had been cooking with her and teaching her basic recipes for a while now, and she finally wanted to try something for herself. Her friend and loyal companion was out of town, having gone to Zora's Domain to visit, leaving Zelda to sort out organizing her new home.

This was the first meal she'd ever made alone.

For a moment, she felt heartache at the thought of it. But it only lasted a moment, and instead, she felt eager, excited anticipation bubbling in her chest. No, she no longer was fed by royal chefs, no longer provided provisions by any settlement or outpost they visited. But she was building a new life for herself, and she finally felt like she was regaining her footing in a world that had seemed so empty and foreign a few months ago.

This was more than just baking bread. This was the start of a new chapter, this was her proving to herself that she could do this.

And so she set to work, having researched the recipe meticulously, eager to get every aspect of it right, ready to show herself that she was capable, that nothing was wrong with her, and that if she could piece herself back together, then she could rebuild Hyrule just as well.

[moonstrider9904]

Abundance

Part 2 of Bread and Tea

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Summary: Christmas Eve is in the air, as is the snow and the winter chill. You’re baking an apple pie before your cozy holiday festivities begin, and someone’s sneaking bites from the filling.

Tags/Warnings: No warnings, this is just pure fluff, soft!Crosshair, domestic Crosshair, baking, coziness, and my closest attempt at a Moonstrider Holiday Special lol

A/N: I made some apple pie in advance for Christmas Eve (I’m writing this on Dec. 23rd) and thought of this story idea. I was initially going to write a Moonlight series short story, but then I remembered I had this series among my WIPs and it felt so fitting and so right that I rushed up here to write it once all the baking was done. It’s self-indulgent as ever, so I hope you’ll enjoy some soft!Crosshair in a holiday setting. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and happy New Year!

Word count: 2k

The song that inspired this was Abundance by Chris Mazuera, because I love listening to this cozy song whenever I’m baking something. Enjoy!

A preheating oven was exactly what the cottage needed.

The fireplace was your most reliable friend in the winter when the cottage got chilly, but the oven was still unmatched, as if it were your very own secret weapon. Whether you needed comfort, warmth, or a food craving needed to be satisfied, it never failed you. The smell of the recently made apple filling, a combination of cinnamon and butter and sugar and maple syrup—your secret ingredient—alongside those ripe, honey crisp apples, blended with the scent of the oak wood crackling in the chimney.

It was like a symphony to you. It was like home.

You turned the stovetop off and let the apple filling rest on its pot, hopefully allowing it to cool down enough while you worked on the crust. You’d be kneading and folding and spreading dough for a while, all in your carefully figured out system that came after years and years of baking. Apple pie was more of a tradition than a recipe now, so much that you didn’t even need the cookbook handy anymore. You knew that recipe well-enough by heart now. So you let the filling rest and cool and you turned your back on it, now facing the kitchen island where your dough was sitting ready for you to work on it.

Dough work took up all of your concentration, or most of it at least. Usually, you still had some focus to spare on the rest of the world around you. You could hear the wind, the fireplace, you could even hear your man’s steps coming and going from the kitchen.

He said nothing, as he usually would. The words that his oldest brother had used to describe him when he first introduced you to him came to mind—not much of a conversationalist. That definitely held up until that very moment when you rolled out the main disk that would go on your pie pan. He would walk into the kitchen, and then the pacing would stop. He would remain still for a moment, completely silent, most likely watching you at work. Then, he would make his way back into the living room to sit by the fireplace.

And then, he would repeat that.

Your mind began to wander. Whenever Crosshair was curious about something you were doing, he would stand still and observe you the whole time, never really bothering to comment anything, just watching. But it felt odd to you that this time he seemed to come and go. Perhaps, given the observative nature of a former sniper, he’d also gotten the recipe for an apple pie down to every last detail. You’d baked it so many times in that cottage that he must have known it by now.

Your train of thought was broken by the sound of his steps returning to the kitchen. When you felt him stopping, you stopped rolling out the dough and looked over your shoulder, and you caught him in the act. When he felt you looking, Crosshair’s eyes landed on you, standing perfectly still, but it was already too late for him to retrieve his hand from the pot of apple pie filling, with a piece of spice and sugar coated apple clutched between his fingers.

“Gotcha,” you teased.

Still staring straight into your eyes, Crosshair took the piece of apple to his mouth and ate it.

You gasped dramatically. “Have you no shame?”

“You should take this as a compliment,” he said as he reached for another cube of apple. “It’s pretty good.”

“Don’t try to mask your antics with flattery,” you turned your body to fully face him “I have a pie to fill, and that’s gonna be hard if you keep eating that.”

Crosshair shot his signature smug grin at you, his eyes gleaming with the will to tease, as his hand slowly reached into the pie filling pot once more. His teeth bared slightly as he waited for your reaction.

Of course you were going to play along.

“Don’t you dare,” you raised a brow at him.

Crosshair inched his hand closer to the filling.

“I am warning you, Crosshair, do not touch one more piece of that filling,” you said as you took your wooden roller and pointed it at him like a makeshift sword.

“You dare point that thing at me?” Crosshair raised how brow at you.

“I’m the baker, and right now, this kitchen is my domain,” you said. “You have no power here.”

“Watch me,” he said as he snatched another piece of apple and ate it while looking you in the eyes.

You put the roller down and crossed your arms, faking annoyance. “You’re not getting any presents tomorrow.”

“You’re going to cave,” he mused as he began walking up to you. “You know why?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you began to turn around, reaching for the roller, but his hand was over yours before you could lift it from the counter top.

“Because you love it when I tease you,” Crosshair purred.

His soft grip on your hand made you let go of the roller again. His hands then made his way up to your shoulders, rubbing up and down as he felt the warm yarn of your gray sweater under his palms. “You’re soft.”

“You’re not sweetalking me,” you averted your gaze, still playing along in your role of unamused girlfriend.

“I believe I am,” Crosshair grinned as he noticed the reddish taint on your cheeks. “Hey?”

“Not listening,” you said, but a smile took over your lips as you suppressed a giggle.

“Hey,” Crosshair cooed again, his hands squeezing your arms as he leaned down and pressed his lips onto yours.

You could never resist Crosshair’s kisses. His lips on yours made all of your walls come down, and your arms went up around his neck while his arms traveled down around your waist, pressing your body closer to his. Crosshair pulled you up and made you stand on your toes, and he gave your body a tiny squeeze that made you giggle into the kiss. The sound was music to his ears, and he moaned into the kiss in that low, smooth voice that you loved so much.

“Mm,” you squirmed in his grip. “Cross, I have to finish the pie.”

As you talked, Crosshair kept smooching your cheeks and your jawline, hoping to draw more of those sweet giggles that he adored from you. Although he succeeded, he was then met by you gazing in his eyes with a blend of sweetness and firmness somehow only you could manage.

“That oven’s going to finish preheating any moment now,” you whispered.

Softly, Crosshair helped settle you down on your feet. “Mind if I watch?”

“Go ahead,” you grinned and turned around, taking your wooden tool to finish rolling out the dough.

Crosshair watched as you cut some strips of dough and set them apart for the lattice, some finer than others, and he watched as your fingers delicately took the time to put three of those strips together and form them into a braid long enough to go around the pie’s full circumference. Crosshair’s lips curved into a smile as he watched you, and though you couldn’t see his expression, you felt his arms wrapping tighter around you.

“You really do love this,” he whispered.

You smiled at his remark. “Yeah.”

When you finished up the braid of dough, you took a quick moment to count the strips of dough that you had and turned around in Crosshair’s arms, smiling softly at him. “I’m going to need that filling now.”

“Of course,” his eyes gleamed with mischief again.

“Cross,” you said.

Crosshair chuckled and went to get the filling from the stove for you. He handed it to you without having taken a single piece of apple, and you mouthed the words thank you when you took the pot from him. Crosshair went back to embracing you as you put the disk of rolled out dough onto the pie dish, delicately taking it and tucking it in so that it would rest perfectly along the dish’s shape, never pulling or tugging or doing anything that would suggest rushing the process.

You then took the filling and placed it within the dough, spoonful by spoonful. The scent of apple mixed with cinnamon and butter filled your nostrils, and unconsciously you hummed in delight at one of your favorite scents in the world. And while you basked in the joy that assembling the pie brought to you, Crosshair continued to watch as he enjoyed the warmth of having you close in his arms. He watched as you put the last couple of spoonfuls of filling into the pie and set the dishes aside, and he knew it was time for you to start building the lattice to finish it off.

The little gleam of mischief returned to Crosshair’s eyes once more, and even if you couldn’t see him as he hugged you from behind, you felt one of his hands lifting from your body only for you to see it reaching into the pie for another piece of apple. You then heard as Crosshair ate the softened, caramelized apple, and you couldn’t help but giggle. He reached in another two or three times—you were too amused to count—as you finished assembling the pie’s top, and even then, he reached into one of the gaps where he could reach for one last piece.

Crosshair got one more chance to admire the delicacy and care of your work when you put egg wash over the pie’s crust, and he only unwrapped his arms from around you when it was time to put the pie into the oven. You were careful when you placed it inside, feeling the heat around you, and when you closed the oven door and turned around, you were met with Crosshair smiling softly at you, a look that you loved with your soul and simply couldn’t see enough times.

“Come here,” Crosshair said so softly it was nearly a whisper.

Without hesitation, you walked into his arms and reached up to cup his cheeks while you kissed him. He kissed you back tenderly with one of his hands reaching to the back of your neck, entwining his fingers gently through your hair. But as much as Crosshair was enjoying the kiss, he parted from you to lead you over to the living room.

He took a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace, and you went over to sit leaning on him, but only after reaching for a blanket you could pull over you both. You leaned back and were engulfed by his warmth, feeling comforted by the fluffy blanket on top of you, and as you settled into the couch and heard the crackling of the fireplace, you felt Crosshair begin to play gently with your hair again.

“What are you thinking?” You asked him.

Crosshair hummed. “You’re happy.”

You smiled softly, and under the blanket, your hands found his to give them a squeeze.

“I’m happy here,” you said. “And I’m happy with you.”

���You never think of wanting more?” He asked.

You shifted in your place to look over your shoulder enough to look him in the eyes. “All that I love and value most in the world is right here, Crosshair. I’ve seen a world outside of this place, but ultimately this is where I want to be.”

Crosshair smiled and leaned in to give your temple a soft kiss. “Then here you’ll stay.”

You smiled and turned around again, settling your weight fully onto Crosshair and the couch beneath you, with his words echoing inside you as you took in the sounds around you—the wind, the fireplace, Crosshair’s breathing, the ticking of the timer set for your pie. That place you loved so much would be where you stayed.

And it would be where you always returned.

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[triforce-of-mischief]

[anon requested a shippy prompt; trying and failing to make something special for their partner]

****

So far, nobody had caught on to Chief's plot. His request for the cooking supplies was nothing out of the ordinary, if not slightly inconvenient since Ordon had wanted to start dinner early. Chief began the familiar motions of prepping the ingredients for pumpernickel bread, thinking ahead to how he was going to make it special.

Hateno had told him about one of his favorite meals; tomato sauce spread on baked dough with melted cheese on top. It could be customized with other toppings, and sounded simple enough that Chief could make it as a surprise for his boyfriend. Everything was going smoothly until Chief chose a pan for the bread dough.

Prince, who was absently watching from nearby, did a double take when he saw Chief grab a pan that was wider and shallower than the one he always used. "Chief? The other pan should be ready to use," he signed.

"I know," Chief signed back. "I'm using this one today."

Prince frowned, but didn't say anything more.

Smith wandered over, also staring at the pan for a moment too long. "Experimenting?" she asked, plopping down beside Prince.

"You can say that," Chief responded, and set the dough aside to rise.

Next was the tomato sauce. Chief retrieved a handful of tomatoes from the Purah Pad and diced them into quarters before pouring them in a bowl. He faltered, pushed aside the thought that he was doing this wrong, and set to mashing the tomatoes until he achieved an acceptable mixture.

"Oh my gods," a new voice snarked. "What are you doing."

"I'm making pizza, Four," Chief said without looking away from his work.

"You're making- is that another one of Hateno's fancy recipes?" Four demanded, joining what was quickly becoming an audience.

"It's not that complicated," Chief retorted. "There's only three base ingredients."

"Then why are you smashing tomatoes with a fork."

"It's the sauce," Chief grumbled, pouring the concoction over the pumpernickel dough.

Four choked and waved Rabbit over, whispering in his ear and setting them both into a fit of snickering. Chief knew that he was blushing by now, but ignored them as best as he could as he found a small jar of already-shredded cheese. Thank the spirits for the first small mercy of the day. He upended the entire jar over the pizza, coating it as evenly as possible.

Now for the hardest part- choosing the extra toppings. Chief asked his peanut gallery for input, ending up with a pizza that got less sane with every suggestion. Far wanted mushrooms, Minish asked for bacon, Rabbit requested safflina, Four insisted on radishes... Hateno had said that most anything was good on pizza, but Chief had the feeling that they were pushing its limits.

It was about halfway baked when Hateno returned, and it smelled... well. "Appetizing" would be an overstatement.

"Ordon...?" Hateno started uncertainly, and the man in question shook his head and pointed to Chief.

"He's the only one who's cooked anything."

Chief gave his boyfriend a shy smile, trying to pretend that the others' commentary hadn't gotten to him. "I thought it would be nice if I made dinner, as a surprise," he explained.

"Oh- that's awesome, thank you! I can't wait to try it," Hateno said, his tone inexplicably genuine.

Now that most of the excitement was over, a few members of Chief's audience had dispersed. Minish had fled as soon as they smelled the pizza, and Prince had only lasted a few minutes longer. Hateno sat in the now-empty space closest to Chief, waiting patiently for the pizza to finish baking.

The pumpernickel, from what Chief could see under the toppings, had come out nicely. The rest, however... Chief was too stubborn not to try it, but he could at least admit that he was a bit hesitant.

"You made pizza!" Hateno exclaimed, reaching for it and cutting triangular slices as soon as it had cooled enough. "You really went all out on this, huh?"

Chief nodded, passing a slice to Far (who looked eager to try it) and Ordon (who looked decidedly less so). "I tried to follow your description... I hope it's good."

"Is this pumpernickel?" Hateno asked, peering at the underside of his slice. Chief winced, but Hateno just shrugged and said, "Never tried that before."

Chief watched anxiously as Hateno took one bite, then another. His boyfriend made an appreciative sound, giving Chief a gentle nudge.

"It's amazing, love. Thank you."

Ordon coughed, and Chief glanced over to see that he and Four were making faces that were significantly more unpleasant.

"The rest of you ungrateful lot can eat whatever Ordon was going to make," Hateno added, unamused.

Finally, Chief tried a bite of his own pizza. He leaned into Hateno, happy that he had enjoyed his surprise.

...Maybe Ordon would let Chief sneak some of his dinner.