#best heart shaped baking pan

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

You are off the list 😌

I fear I hyped it up too much coz it’s literally just my old lady hobbies. I just stared at ur drawings for way too long and made ‘em needlepoint/ embroidery

THERES DETAILS AND SHADING I SWEAR!!!Tumblr just stole the quality>:( it looks cool in person you’ll just have to use your imagination

Yes I was gonna fill Cali in but I stabbed my finger threading the green and took it as a sign

Uh I forgot you’re some weird freaked up raccoon thing so I made your little sona guy normal raccoon colors. He has jorts because my little brother insisted that he couldn’t run around with a shirt and leave his balls hanging out. His words not mine 🫠

Sorry

Anyways if I had given this to you in person I would have also given you cookies from the bakery, but I can’t do that so the recipe is in the tags :)

(Look up how to make brown butter if you haven’t made it before)

Ok bye I’m sprinting away coz I’m mad embarrassed

🧍‍♀️🚙💨💨

[multiheadcanons]

REQUEST: TF2 MERCS AND FOOD

scout: okay, we’re gonna breeze past all scout knowing is twerk be bisexual eat hot chip and lie. we’re gonna hold that space, and now we’re gonna move on. scout can cook a bird like a son of a bitch. he can roast a turkey like nobody’s business. he cannot cook anything else. he has successfully made a turducken. heavy handed with the pepper. master spatchcocker. he puts like no effort into it and the bird just snaps. he’ll cook when he’s pissed at medic so he can cut up bird carcasses and tell him his doves are next. really, he’ll eat anything. except sushi. he hates the texture of raw fish.

soldier: he keeps an emergency stash of MREs in his room. normally not allowed in the kitchen. is allowed on the grill. he will use a thermometer when he cooks meat. no american is above salmonella. he is kind of picky, but doesn’t complain since he’s normally not cooking. he doesn’t like soups. doesn’t like anything too soft, really. he would like to work for his calories.

pyro: NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN. NOT ALLOWED WITHIN TEN FEET OF THE GRILL. CHASE THEM OFF IF SEEN IN THOSE LOCATIONS. pyro has not been, is not, and will never be willingly allowed near the cooking areas since the base fire of ‘74. nobody likes to talk about it. it was a bad day for everyone involved. if pyro begs, they might get to mash garlic. pyro genuinely only knows twerk be bisexual eat hot chip and lie. pyro LOVES spice. the hotter the better. willingly eats ghost peppers raw. and, contrary to popular belief, pyro hates sweets. doesn’t like the taste of sweet and how it coats their mouth. a sweet treat is very rare for them. they like a good pumpkin pie, or a nice sweet potato if they absolutely need something sweet. even fruit sometimes is too much. they like kiwis and pineapples because they sting a little. allergic to carrots

demo: demo is a master of meat. butchering, trimming, dressing, marinating, seasoning, roasting, frying, baking, pan searing. any way in which meat could be cooked demo can and has cooked it that way. once tried to cook a pork roast with a bomb. came back with soldier and tried to cook another one with a rocket. he is a scientist, and he likes to play with his food too. hates sour stuff. he can feel it in his eye socket. otherwise not picky about food. loves blueberries. hates raspberries. tries weird food combinations for his ratatouille moment. will physically fight anyone for the last piece of pizza.

heavy: soup master. cooks for twenty seven every time it’s his turn to cook. has a crazy mental catalogue of every soup known to man and can make a different soup every time. also is the one who knows exactly what is in the fridge at all times and when it will expire. resident grocery shopper with snipes. his job is to have the list prepared so all snipes has to do is take the list and not deviate. it takes them about a week of planning everything down to the budget. not very good with meats, but he can get it cooked. just may be overdone. sensitive stomach, can’t just eat garbage and be fine. there’s something about watching him read and absentmindedly eat grapes as he does so. forces pyro to eat fruit. like chases him around with an apple. his dedication from nutrition came from medic. he found the science behind it interesting, and thinks that caring for your body is one of the best things you can do for it. insane spice tolerance, but he hates spice. get this man on hot ones. his favorite spice is coriander. he likes saying it.

engineer: engie is a master at some good comfort food. he remembers his mama, god rest her soul, telling him as a young boy if he likes to eat he better like to cook. and buddy, does he love to cook. can make a sourdough starter from scratch. his favorite meal to cook and eat are chicken and dumplings. everyone fights for the chicken and dumplings. everyone begs him to make the chicken and dumplings. he’s so extra, he shapes the dumplings into hearts. like his mama used to do on his birthday. everyone eats that shit up they love engie when he’s in the kitchen. always willing to learn a recipe for someone, and the designated chef for birthdays. everyone normally wants the same thing on their birthdays, so it’s a fairly easy job. killer cornbread maker. medic once begged him to make an eggs benedict. he’d never tried before, but gave it a go. it came out pretty okay!the doctor would’ve appreciated it if everything were burned to a crisp, though. he was desperate.

medic: NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN. NOT ALLOWED WITHIN TEN FEET OF THE GRILL. KILL WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE IF FOUND IN THESE AREAS. medic should never be allowed in a kitchen. he’s messy, he’s chaotic, he enters and exits a room in whirlwinds, his hands are normally bloody. is has a basic grasp on cooking. pretty okay on the grill, but after the base fire of ‘74 he and pyro got banned. not picky at all, just has foods he likes more than others. has tried human meat in a taco. he didn’t mind it! a little too tough for him. might make a better burger. he likes to play in food too much to be given the responsibility to cook. he can help if he wants to, though. normally he brings alcohol and that’s his contribution to team dinners. a good bottle of wine or a 12 pack of beer. loves the concept of edible flowers. he and pyro will ruin a meal by demolishing that shit in edible glitter. please keep them out of the kitchen. he loves a good eggs benedict but he’s the only one who can consistently make hollandaise sauce and properly poach an egg. and he’s not allowed in the kitchen. so the days of the benedict of eggs are gone. eats sauerkraut out of the jar.

sniper: kitchen and grill bodyguard. will fire a warning shot once before headshotting the Banished. past that, you didn’t hear it from me, but snipes is a phenomenal baker. he‘s got a kiss the cook apron. he’ll only bake if he’s the only one in the base. the team will come back from whatever they’re doing to fresh pastries. warm bread. cookies baked to perfection. then he walks in and goes “oh, who did all of this” and the whole team won’t know. but as he watches them dig in, it warms his heart a little. he wishes that they would stop groaning when they ate though, he’s pretty sure they’re not that good. heavy is the only one who has intuited that it’s sniper making the pastries, but sniper doesn’t know that he knows. he keeps the secret though. resident grocery shopper with heavy. his job is to get them in and out of the store as fast as possible with no room for impulse buys. he and heavy are the only ones with enough discipline to resist going over the budget. lets heavy get the produce while he sprints for everything else. their record time is 30 minutes excluding checkout. brutal shopper. will casually move your cart, and you, to get what he needs. sometimes he will begin it with excuse me. but he’s not on the clock. he is trying to get out of there as fast as possible. has also tried human meat. not bad! he’d eat it if he had to.

spy: of course spy knows how to cook. he’s great at it. but do you think he’s actually cooking? he’s only in that kitchen when it’s fend for yourself night, and he does not show pity. yes he does make ratatouille. has a very refined palette. unless he himself is sick. then he’ll literally drink bath water if he can keep it down. once cried when eating a soup heavy made. it was the best thing he’d tasted in his life. keeps a snack basket and carafe in his room so he doesn’t have to be seen in the kitchen. loves some spice, but has a low spice tolerance. he’ll still eat a chili raw. he’ll never admit it but he loves getting to try everyone else’s cooking. it fascinates him, at least if they’re decent cooks. feels a little bad he’ll probably never get to try medic’s cooking. he’s sure the man knows his way around a bratwurst. jam and marmalade connoisseur. his favorite is orange. will literally moan over a good croissant and jam. loves his french breakfast of a croissant, a coffee and a cigarette.

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

Made with love (Alastor x Baker! reader)

Description: Y/N invite their boyfriend Alastor to bake, of course he’s takes his own twist

This is inspired of a TikTok by @matineaux

Thank you thank you thank you @witchywriter18 for the idea!!

Warning: tooth rot fluff, established relationship, Alastor being Alastor, mentions of murder and cannibalism, polar opposite pairing

⛧☾w༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV

Y/N and alastor had been going out for a little over a year. Y/N met Alastor after Charlie employed you as head chef claiming “the best way to the heart is through the stomach.”, even though their personal talent was baking she happily took the job. Cooking and baking food for their good exercises along with breakfast, lunch and dinner. Most of the food request were normal…expect one.

Alastor was a cannibal, so they couldn’t blame him, they tired to do what they to make him his meals…but he seemed to always be appreciative of their efforts. Cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner, Y/N was nearly always in the kitchen, after a few weeks of getting to know Alastor, he seemed to always appear in the kitchen, starting conversations which Y/N happily did even sometimes helping them prepare food, everyone knew he had a soft spot for them, after the extermination and Alastors brush with dead, made them not realize they liked each other. They were complete polar opposite pairing but they loved each other’s.

Both had their own responsibilities to attend to put always made time for eachother, if it be Y/N sitting in this little radio tour while he on air or having a conversation while you cooked. But Y/N’s favorite was their baking sessions. Alastor knew they loved to bake so he happily help them. Today was one of those days.

Y/N invited Alastor to bake with them after his daily broadcast, they had to prepare vegetables for tonight dinner during his broadcast, so they sadly couldn’t join him, while Y/N was preparing the baking tools and the ingredients, they felt a new familiar presence in the room, they smile and turn to see Alastor nearly looming over then due to his sheer height. “Hello my dear!” Alastor said happily to them as he kissed the top of their head.

Y/N smile at the show of affection, which in private was more than around the others. Alastor lend down to Y/N’s eyes level and cocked his head to look at the tools and ingredients. “Now what are we making today?” He asked curiously.

Y/N smiled putting on an apron, “Nifty asked for “cute cookies”, so we’re making heart shaped cookies for her.” Alastor somehow was able to smile wider at your words, Nifty was an important person to Alastor. “Sounds delightful? Where do we start?” He asked happily. Y/N knew he knows, the helped them bake cookies before.

Alastor love to help with the little things, if it be mixing cookie batter. Today since the cookies were heart shaped, Alastor was of course helped were is was needed. Once the two big pieces of dough was flat. Y/N open their knife drawer handing this a small knife, “you can cut a heart shape right Alastor?” Y/N asked jokingly taking another identical knife for themselves. “Of course my dear, I am a cannibal after all!” Y/N laughed at this word as they started to cut out little hearts.

After a bit Y/N was finally done, they slowly pealed off the dough around the heart revealing about a dozen of cookie hearts. “Done!” Y/N said as they threw away the extra dough. “How’s its coming love?” Y/N asked Alastor as they walked over to him. “Just finished.” Alastor said without batting an eye as he removed the extra dough. As Y/N peaked over his arm to see…hearts, but not normal hearts, they were human hearts.

Y/N batted their eyes at it for a moment before looking and seeing Alastors eyes. “Thoughts?” Alastor asked smiling wide. Y/N looked at him for a moment before smiling warmly. “They’re perfect..they remind me of you.” They said with a small laugh as they moved the cookies onto a pan and into the oven.

After they were done and cooled down. Y/N walked out of the kitchen with a tray of cookies, Alastor following close behind. “Ohh niftyyy~” Y/N Sang out. Soon Nifty was rounding the corner fast. “AHH, YOU MADE THEM!” Nifty screaming as she ran up jumping for the tray. Y/N laughed as they got on one knee showing her the tray of cookies, they were a mix of normal hearts and human hearts shapes. Nifty looked at them for a moment blanco faced before giving me a sinister smile. “THERE PREFECT!!” She screamed as she snatched the stray running away.

Y/N stood to their feet watching her scurry away quick before turning to face him, “she seems to like them huh Al?” Y/N said with a smile. “Of course she does!,” Alastor said with a smile as he took their hand, giving in a small squeeze. “You made them with love..”

Tag list

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @pooplyface1423

[y2kuromi]

✶ : ❛ 𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗧𝗨𝗦 : seishiro nagi x reader ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა

˖ ִֶָ𐀔 — contents ⋮ birthday fic for moi <3 fluff, fluff, fluff, fem! reader, established relationship, nagi is literally whipped. reo being a d1 hater. pet names . second person (you/your/yours) and third person pov. w/c : 2.4k

if you told nagi he'd be sitting cross-legged in his kitchen picking thorns off pink roses and counting them under his breath while his best friend reo talked him through this (or at least attempted to), he would've laughed in your face. even more so if you'd told him his cheeks were flushed a shade darker than the soft petals he clutched and his heart hammered loudly in his chest. but here he was doing just that hours to your birthday

"what do you think?" nagi asked reo, bringing the bouquet into view. he was quite proud of the floral arrangement of roses, chrysanthemum, lotus and hydrangea flowers. "’s it too much?"

"it's pretty lame, why don't you just cover (y/n)'s apartment in rose petals instead" reo suggested, he was only kidding

"you just want to see me suffer" nagi grumbled. when he'd facetimed him for moral support, he hadn't expected him to crack jokes at his expense, "cleaning that up would be such a hassle"

"i'm surprised you made the bouquet yourself," reo said thoughtfully, "wouldn't ordering one be more your speed?"

"nahh" the grey-eyed boy shook his head, "(y/n) likes these specific flowers for some reason, florist didn't have any arrangements like this"

"so you just bought four bouquets....? you do know custom orders exist right?" there's a small smirk on reo's lips as he teased. nagi shot him a withering glare as he firmly tied the stems together with twine

"wouldn't be as special that way" nagi muttered. he was blushing again, despite being in the comfort of his own home, he could feel the blush still warming his neck and ears

"you really love her, huh?" reo questioned gently his eyes softening when he saw nagi shyly smile at him

"yeah..." nagi breathed out quietly, smiling softly down at the flower arrangement, "should i bake a cake?"

"what??"

"'ve got this heart-shaped pan, and i bought cake mix and some other stuff after training today. i think i could pull it off”

“are you sure about that?” reo queried, “i’m not gonna help you”

“that’s fine, not like you can bake anyways,” nagi scoffed, setting the flowers down on the counter. “it shouldn’t be that hard right?”

“depends on the flavour” reo affirmed

“what should i do for icing, buttercream?” nagi asked, picking up a bag of sugar and a tub of butter. “’s the easiest”

“buttercream then”

“i wasn’t really asking you, but sure”

“dumbass”

“(y/n)’s dumbass” he grinned, his voice softening at the mention of your name “god i hope she likes this. i feel like i could’ve done more”

“you made her a bouquet, you made her a gift basket and now you’re baking her a cake. you didn’t even get me anything for my birthday” reo said pointedly

“you’re not my girlfriend reo, and you can buy stuff for yourself”

“you’re a terrible friend”

“i’m a good boyfriend though” nagi said softly, “the best in the world”

reo couldn’t argue with that. nagi only put effort in the things he deemed important. you stood at the top of that list, above soccer, gaming and sleeping. he wanted nothing more than to make you happy.

to his credit, he tried his best. he went grocery shopping whenever you asked him to pick up groceries. he made sure you ate enough, and he always made time for you. even if he wanted to spend his entire day playing video games, he still made sure he was by your side.

he would do anything for you. hell, if you asked him to do a handstand and sing baby shark backwards, as stupid as it sounded, he would do it just to see your heartbreakingly beautiful smile

“‘m gonna make (y/n) breakfast in bed” he murmured, he could already see the smile stretching across your face “french toast or pancakes, dunno yet”

“you? cook?” reo laughed, “you’re gonna poison her”

“shut up” nagi scowled, his nose scrunching up in mock annoyance, “i know how to cook, ‘s just a hassle but if it’s for (y/n) i don’t mind” he said as he mixed the dry ingredients until the salt, sugar and cake mix were evenly combined. he cracked two large eggs into the bowl and poured in milk, oil and vanilla extract. the cake mix reminded him oddly of you. sweet and sugary

“you’re whipped” reo said. “you’re too far gone,look at your face all mushy like that you’re making me sick”

“‘s called being in love, not that you can relate” nagi retorted. he gently scooped the batter in the baking pan with a spatula while reo stared at him agape. “‘s obvious” he shrugged, slipping the pan into the pre-heated oven.he ran a hand through his hair as he leaned against the counter with a content look on his face

nagi was still learning what love really was. to him, it looked a lot like you.

loving you felt like breathing, like waking up in the morning after a good night’s sleep. he loved your smiles, your laugh, the sparkle you got in your eyes when you were around him. he loved everything about you. he’d probably never love anyone the way he loved you. and he was okay with that, he wouldn’t trade you for the world

“simp” reo said “ i’m surprised she puts up with your lazy ass”

“you call this moral support?” nagi muttered, “should’ve called someone else”

“who else would sit on facetime with you while you did all this?” reo asked, “i’ll wait”

nagi was deep in thought for a moment but he remained silent. he knew you would, but that would inherently ruin the surprise

"so, nobody, huh? thought as much," reo remarked, rolling his eyes, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. it was a breath of fresh air to not be the one pushing nagi to do something for once

*ding* nagi’s eyes lit up as the timer chimed. the kitchen was filled with the scent of freshly baked vanilla cake. he slipped on an oven mitt before he took the pan out of the oven and placed it on the island. his cheeks were flushed as he glanced over his shoulder to shoot him a triumphant look

“cake’s done” he was slightly giddy with anticipation, once he was done icing it he could finally drive to your apartment and see you. he knew you were already sleeping, he’d called you an hour ago and your voice had been laced with the precipice of sleep. he didn’t really care, he selfishly wanted to be the first to wish you a happy birthday. even if it meant waking you up at midnight

true to his word nagi slipped into your apartment as soon as the clock struck midnight. to his credit he was as quiet as possible. setting your presents down on the counter before sneaking into your room

the bed dips and suddenly there’s a warm body behind you. nagi wraps an arm around your waist, pressing himself closer to you. you let out a small noise as he pulls you in for a long kiss, his hand reaching up to stroke your cheek.

“sei…” you yawn, squinting at him with your sleepy (e/c) eyes. you’re unbelievably pretty he thinks. even with furrowed eyebrows and a worn-out look on your face. your lashes fan across your face and he can feel his heart melting

“happy birthday baby” he murmurs, placing the sweetest of kisses on your forehead.

“thank you” you hummed, resting your head on his chest, enjoying the warmth radiating from the blankets. “thought you weren’t coming till later…”

“couldn’t stay away” he admitted with a sigh, wrapping an arm around your waist, “‘m sorry i woke you”

“it’s okay” you smiled,you brush a few locks of his hair away from his forehead, leaning up slightly to peck his lips. you pulled back slightly content with blissfully reveling in his presence before you sat up properly, pulling back the covers and climbing out of your bed, “c’mon i want my presents now”

“what makes you think i got you anything?” he mutters. eager to stay cuddled up in bed. his hopes were dashed as you dragged him towards you

you wonder how someone could be as cute as he was, despite his hair being messed up more than ever and his eyelids heavy with sleep. you bring your free hand up to his cheek and smile. his hand comes up to hold yours as he nuzzles into your palm, soft grey eyes affectionate and loving, the everpresent pout no longer visible on his face.

“because you love me” you reply, smiling when he grins lazily at you, a little bit dazed

"i do love you," he mumbles, leaning up and slowly kissing the corner of your lips. “wait here” he tells you softly as he stands up, giving you another quick kiss. you watch him leave the room with a fond expression on your face.

your 6’3 boyfriend returns less than two minutes later, cradling a (f/c) box filled to the brim with your favourite snacks, manga and a fluffy miffy plush. as well as the prettiest bouquet of flowers you’d ever seen.

you practically tackle him, hugging him tightly as he laughs. you pull back to admire the flowers in his hands and you gasp, reaching out to take one of them.

“are those lotuses?” you ask, staring at them lovingly. they almost glow under the light in your bedroom

“yeah,” he nods, “you said you liked them”

you loved lotuses, although nagi didn’t understand why. the soft pink lotus flowers and their dreamy forgetfulness and symbolic unwillingness to leave reminded you distinctly of him

“they’re beautiful, thank you so much” you beam. you took the bouquet from him, eyes widening when you realized they weren’t store bought. tears pricked your (e/c) irises and you sniffle as you tried your best not to lose it.

“ hey!” he says, noticing the tearful expression on your face. he cups your face gently “don’t start bawling on me yet”

“you made this yourself?” you whisper, staring in awe at the bouquet, “for me?”

“do i have another girlfriend or something?” he says, raising a questioning eyebrow at you. you glare at him before laughing

“shut up, i love you” you say. you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a tight hug. or at least you try to, the box slightly gets in the way.

“i love you too” nagi smiles, and it’s one of those smiles he reserves for you, one that lights up his face and makes him shine brighter than any star, “now look at the rest, ‘m sorry i didn’t wrap anything”

“too much of a pain?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. he nodded in response, holding out the next gift. a sleek photo album. the first page is filled with a plethora of pictures. there were candid shots of you, pictures you didn’t even know existed. the one that stuck out to you the most was a picture of you at the arcade on your first date.

“you can fill up the rest yourself” nagi yawned, trailing towards your bed and placing the box carefully down on it. you placed the pink and purple bouquet on your dressing table before joining him

“thank you sei” you said, you honestly couldn’t say it enough. when nagi had asked you out a few months ago you’d never imagined he could possibly make you feel this special. hell, you didn’t even care about your birthday that much. you almost hated him now, he’d ruined your expectations for life by making you feel like this..

nagi’s grey eyes drooped as he leaned against your pillow, “s’nothing, there’s one more thing you’ve gotta see tonight” he lazily pointed at a white box tucked neatly beside the cinnamoroll plush with a striking resemblance to nagi

you opened the box gingerly, the sweet scent of buttercream filled your senses. “a cake?” you exclaimed, “sei, you baked?? you baked me a cake??”

“i baked” nagi shrugged, “’s just a small one, and ‘s not from scratch”

you dipped your finger into the buttercream and licked the sweet (f/c) frosting off, “this is really good,” you tell him

“‘m just good at everything” he murmurs, grinning when you gave him an exasperated glance “‘m glad you like it”

“of course i do” you frowned slightly, “sit up for just a second, you gotta sing while i blow out my candles”

“‘m not singing”

“pleaseeeeee” you pleaded, “it doesn’t even have to be the full song, you owe me sei, since you woke me up”

“fine” he sighed, sitting up reluctantly. he watched patiently as you placed the candles in the centre of the cake and pressed the flame to the wax. once the candles were lit, you reached over and grabbed his hand.

he thought you looked really beautiful like this, with the candlelight casting your features in warm glow and your hair fanned out over your shoulders. you seemed ethereal. he stared at you and smiled softly, watching as the flickering light danced on your face, casting shadows onto your (e/c) eyes

“i don’t hear you singing” you said, giggling when his cheeks flushed a startling shade of pink.

“shut up” he huffed, looking away, but you only grinned wider as he sang for you. you didn’t know why he didn’t want to in the first place, he sounded like an angel. after the song was finished, you blew out your candles gently

you wished for a plethora of things all of which you knew nagi would stop at nothing to give you. you felt like he’d given you the entire world already. so you wished you could give him endless happiness. you wished you could spend day after day falling further in love with him, and you wished you could give him the entire universe

after the cake had been kept safely in the fridge and your breathtaking flowers arranged in a vase, you placed a lone lotus flower on your bedside table, nimbly slipping under the sheets beside your sweet boyfriend

“what did you wish for?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he kissed the top of your head

“my wish won’t come true if i tell you” you hummed.

“‘s not fair” he pouted, “i told you what i wished for on my birthday”

“if i kiss you will you shut up and go to sleep ?” you asked. nagi nodded meekly. you didn’t need to ask him twice. he’d do anything for you

© Y2KUROMI ‘23 please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Sweet One” Spn Gabriel x plus size! Reader

(A/N: Requested by @bubblegumfanfics for love confessions galore! I hope you like it! I had rewatched Pride and Prejudice the other day and uh…had to reel back the confessions a bit. Warnings: Tiny angst and fluff Word Count: 943 words)

~~~

Good music. Good vibes. Good baking!

The relief and bubbling joy to have time in your schedule to bake was almost tangible. You loved it.

Baking was a science. An art! It didn’t matter where someone was or what they looked like — they could experience baking in some form. Hopefully.

You, for one, were putting another dessert into your experience. Hence the cooling pan that held a chocolate cake fresh out of the oven set away from your next task.

It looked good. But so did you.

Readjusting your apron, you smiled at the fabric.

This is so cute, you thought. Totally worth it for the pockets alone.

Who said aprons had to be boring?

You had every right to look and feel cute while baking. Maybe highlight your favorite features and curves. You were a human not a cardboard cutout or edited picture. Personality and shape made a person.

Perhaps not a certain archangel’s preferred shape of human.

But he’s my friend. No downside there.

You could accept that.

A falter in your smile slowed you only a little.

There was cookie dough in the refrigerator that needed to be sorted for baking and plenty of counter space after the dishes you had finished washing. No time for sour thoughts that’d get you nowhere.

Besides, you thought as you opened the fridge, these cookies are for Gabriel. There’ll be more than a dozen this time.

Cold bowl of dough in hand, you turned back to the counter, only to find the very archangel you had been thinking of. Never a coincidence.

Gabriel was busying himself by sniffing the chocolate cake.

A smile pulled on your lips.

“Hi. Did you nose bring you here?” You inquired with a light laugh, shutting the fridge door.

“Partially.” He tapped his fingers across the countertop.

“Uh-huh.” You set the bowl down beside the baking sheets.

Golden eyes looked up and held your gaze.

“And I wanted to see you.”

“Ooo.” You placed your hand over your heart. “That is incredibly sweet.” Picking up a scooper, you added, “And I may have something sweet for you in return — if you don’t eat the dough.”

Hands up in defense, Gabriel promised, “I’ll wait. I did just say why I came, remember, sugar?”

“Yeah.”

Brushing off the term of endearment, you started scooping the cookie dough into small spheres. There was an after thought to make them bigger, but you challenged yourself to stick to the plan. Anything to keep your thoughts in place. You couldn’t exactly say the same on the fluttering in your stomach.

“Chocolate chip cookies.” Gabriel hummed in approval as he made his way to the other side of the counter.

“I know it’s one of your favorites.”

“Anything from you is my favorite.”

Grinning a little bashfully, you replied, “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say. I do save the best ones; hide any burnt cookies or crumbled brownies.”

“Now who’s the sweet one?” Gabriel leaned against the counter and lightly poked your shoulder.

“It’s all the baking, I guess.”

The heat creeping up your neck was almost as distracting as the feel of Gabriel’s honey-colored gaze.

Just make sure there’s chocolate chips in each one, you instructed yourself.

Doing your best to focus was usually so simple when baking. A fun activity to zone into. At that moment, you were unsure.

Behind you, the string on your apron had moved. Hardly noticeable. Yet you knew why.

“Are you entertaining yourself or are you trying to signal for a piece of cookie dough?” You peered over to your friend.

“I was thinking.” He dropped the fabric from between his fingers.

“Okay…”

You set aside the scooper and turned to Gabriel.

“I love your baking.”

You grinned briefly.

“And I,” he swallowed, “I’m grateful for your friendship and kindness and you.” Standing upright, he continued, “You make existing worth something.”

Upon opening your mouth to respond, no words came. Your mind was a fuzzy mess with most words blocked by you trying to sort out how you felt about his words and if you were about to overthink it all.

“You still don’t know, do you?” Gabriel asked softly.

Your brows pinched in curious confusion.

“Apparently not,” you noted.

Did you dare allow yourself to hope? To think he just might like you with your caring personality and unique curves as more than a friend?

You dearly hoped you weren’t reading him wrong. Either way, you were certain to hear something from your dear friend.

“What are you trying to say?” You asked, ever cautious of the thumping of your heart.

“Truthfully?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

His words resonated in the quiet of your home. Neither of you rushing to fill the air.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you breathed in deeply to center yourself.

This is real. Does he—

“I love you so much it’s almost ridiculous,” Gabriel continued. “I don’t know where to even begin.” He took a chance and grabbed your hand. “This is real and I hope I’m not a complete fool for thinking you might feel the same. Even a little.”

“You,” you covered a joyous laugh, “I’m ridiculous.”

He titled his head.

“I thought you didn’t like me that way.”

Stepping closer, Gabriel poked your nose, stating, “You are ridiculous for thinking that. How could I not fall for you, sugar? I have literally tripped when you’ve smiled. Not that I minded much.”

You shook your head with a fond smile and took hold of his other hand. Sighing, you confessed warmly, “I love you too.”

Honey-colored eyes had never appeared so bright.

~~~

(A/N: If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

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[abitohoney]

So after a recent Big Move™️, I’ve finally gotten my household goods delivered to my new home. WOOT WOOT.

And as I pulled out some baking/muffin pans, I thought

Damn. I’d like to think I’d be rough and tough and a “don’t look at me wrong or I’ll punt your ass over a high-rise” sort of girl boss in the Arcane world.

But realistically all I want is to bake some treats for Sev and Ran. Make sure they’re eating good. Dust off and adjust their collar before they head out on a mission/task or to a meeting or whatever. Pack them little snacks or lunchboxes. Pretend to not be fussy over them since I also have my own work but actually unintentionally show ✨affection✨. Give them a goodbye kith. Be a lil Susie-homemaker in denial.

Also this moonshine is kind of hitting hard send help

OMG congrats on the big move! I still remember my first big move! Exciting (and exhausting)! Hopefully you're past the exhausting part and slipping into chill mode.

Hard same on thinking I'd be a kick ass girl boss in Arcane but really just wanna be Sev and Ran's little Honey homemaker. 🤓

Some silly, cute, fluffy thoughts inspired by this below the cut. SFW believe it or not.

Fussing over them and packing them lil snacks and lunches sounds like a dream! 🤩 Gosh, just imagine packing them both a little paper sack lunch for the first time. They just give you a look like "Seriously? What am I, 8?" Meanwhile you're just smiling at them adoringly.

Maybe they both sit with the rest of Silco's cronies come lunch time. They're already feeling ridiculous carrying they're matching paper sack lunches, but they're just assuming it's gonna be some lame old bologna sandwiches and stale leftover chips from the last Jericho's dinner.

They simultaneously open their bags to pull out not just any old sandwich, rather it's the freshest looking bread they've ever seen, holding equally fresh greens, meats, and cheeses. And best worst of all, you'd used cookie cutters to cut them into heart shapes. Sevika and Ran exchange glances, brows raised. They both set the sandwiches down, behind their bags, hoping to hide them from the rest of the gang, only to pull out more incriminating lunchables. Several slices of pineapple, cut into disgustingly cute little stars. Then comes the veggies, cause of course you made sure their lunches were a complete balance of nutrition. Chubby little baby carrots arranged on a thick homemade hummus in a flower design. One little cherry tomato decorates the center.

The coup de grâce to their humiliation? Custom, tiny cupcakes decorated in bright pink, red, and purple icing and bedazzled with heart shaped sprinkles of the same colors.

Another exchange of glances, cheeks flushed, then eyes averted downward. Neither dare make eye contact with anyone else at the table. Not that any of them would dare to even so much as snicker at Silco's second in command or top assassin. Not if they valued their life.

So Sevika and Ran consume their entirely too cute lunch in silence. It's an uncomfortable one, but deep down, beneath those hard exteriors, their hearts swell with pride and joy. They have someone like you- who cares so much- to so lovingly select, create, and craft the sweetest of lunches. And just for them. ♥️

Sending help ASAP! (It's just me in a box with holes so I can 'help' you finish off that moonshine)

Also, every time you send me something ISTG I get such a strong itch to write my poly Sev x Reader x Ran fic. I will some day. (Still anxiously patiently waiting for your writing too! <3)

[steveharringtonat3am]

Omg I loved that sunshine reader and grumpy! Steve fic! Could you do one where Steve tries to bake her something to be nice and just fails horribly? Maybe they’re already dating at that point??

It couldn’t be that hard.

Or atleast, that’s what Steve figured as he flips through a dessert cookbook you keep on the kitchen counter. Like most things in your shared apartment, it’s bright and bubbly and slightly nauseating but he just can’t deny you when he sees you smile.

He tries to focus on the cake recipes. Those seem simple enough, as opposed to the Italian cheesecake cookies or the grilled blackberry brioche bread pudding. He finds a recipe with a pink post-it, and your pretty writing stating ‘the BEST!!!’

There really weren’t any other options.

He has a few hours before you get home, so he figures he’ll start by doing some cleaning. You had a very maximalist approach to decorating the apartment. Which of course meant a lot of dusting and a lot of picking various items up and trying to remember if they were in the correct place.

Steve hadn’t expected to enjoy living with you so much. Don’t get him wrong, you were quite literally the reason he woke up in the mornings, even before the two of you started dating. But when you had brought up the idea, he couldn’t help but worry he would infect you with his general unhappiness with life. Like he would suck the joy right out of you and you’d be miserable. But the opposite happened. Now, he woke up genuinely excited. Granted it was because you would be in bed with him and he could get a sleepy kiss but still. Totally worth it.

“Do we have buttermilk?” He mumbles to himself after scanning the ingredients. The list is longer than he would have preferred, and he nearly cuts his hand open while chopping the chocolate. Luckily he manages to gather the ingredients and starts to put them in the bowl.

He finds a heart shaped cake mold, pouring in the mixture that doesn’t seem to have the consistency of cake mix but he figures the oven will fix it. With the kitchen a disaster, he figures a five minute break on the couch can’t hurt, right?”

It’s the beeping that wakes him up. Loud angry beeps from the kitchen as he jolts awake. Grey smoke has begun to haze his vision as it rises from the over.

“Shit shit shit shit shit.” He mumbles as he leaps off the couch, switching the oven off and opening it to a cloud of angry smoke and the charred smell of chocolate. He winces at the continued angry beeping, opening windows as far as they will go and waving a towel around desperately.

He doesn’t notice the sound of the key turning in the lock.

Steve is attempting to pull the charred mess out of the oven when you appear in the kitchen, wide eyed and beautiful. He closes his eyes when he sees you, as if to hide from your shocked expression.

“What happened?” The beeping stops in your presence and he lets out a small sigh of relief as he puts the probably ruined pan in the sink.

“I-well I tried to bake a cake. But then I kinda-maybe-sorta….fell asleep?” He tries for a sheepish smile but the worry on your face just breaks his heart.

“Are you alright?” You rush over to inspect his hands, checking for burns before smoothing his hair back to calm him down.

“Yeah I’m fine…I just wanted to do something nice for you.” The adrenaline has started to wear off and he just melts into you.

“I know sweetheart,” you mumble into his hair as you rub his back. “How about we leave the baking to me next time. You can lick the spoon.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

[ooffmlsorry]

First of all Congratulations on 100 followers!!It's been an absolute pleasure reading your stuff! I love the way you write law, so I'd like to request for the prompt "Step away from the tree and put the present down" It sounds so hilarious, I can't wait to see what you come up with!! xx

OMG that’s so sweet! Thank you!! I’ve been having a great time doing this actually. I’m so glad I do a decent enough job of writing Law ‘cause I’m obsessed with him. This is gonna be fun!! I kind of ran away with this one soo....I hope you enjoy <3 :)!!

“You’re a mean one, Trafalgar Law.” You struggle to keep a straight face while singing and twirl just out of your captain’s reach. “You reeeaaally aaare a heeeeel,” you sing, all the while watching Law’s face grow increasingly stern. “You’re as cuddly as a cactus, you’re as charming as an eel, Trafalgar La-aw.” 

You twirl around the kitchen until you’re back to the counter where you left your bowl of cookie batter.  The kitchen smells sickly sweet already, a tray of sugar cookies and gingerbread cookies cool on a rack. You suspect your captain has come to inquire why the Polar Tang’s kitchen has become a bakery. 

“Sing that again and I’ll consider it mutiny, y/n-ya,” Law says cooly. 

By no means do you think he’s joking, all the annoyance in his eyes and tension in his shoulders are real, but his threat rings hollow. Maybe because the only thing you’ve done is poke fun at him, you both know you’d never truly betray him. The fact that you were allowed to tease him at all was the real sign of how strong your bond was. 

“Stop being such a grinch and I won’t,” you say. You begin pressing a person shaped mold into a sheet of gingerbread cookie dough.

You hear Law grumble something under his breath, but you don’t ask. The captain is welcome to grumble to himself as much as he likes, but it won’t stop you from bringing a little holiday cheer to the Heart Pirates. After all they’ve been through they need it, especially Law. 

There’s a beat of silence before Law speaks. “Why are you doing this?” He asks. “There are much more important things to b–” 

“Cookie?” You say. “I made one shaped like a polar bear just for you.” You turn around with a sugar cookie shaped like a bear’s face covered lightly with white icing for the fur and black for eyes, nose and mouth. 

Law pauses to look at it, looks at you, and then to your surprise, begrudgingly takes it in his hand but doesn’t bite into it. “There are more important things to do than bake cookies,” he says. 

You don’t dare comment on the fact that he just took one. You know well enough he’d hand it back to you if you did.“You're trying to come up with something else for me to do, aren't you?” 

“There's always cleaning to do,” Law says. His eyes sweep around the kitchen littered with pans, bowls of icing, food coloring, wax paper, and cookie dough, “and you've made a mess. The cook will need it soon for dinner.” 

“I know,” you say lightly. “We’re having a holiday dinner, remember? Decorate cookies, drink a little, dance? Bepo told you we’re opening presents before breakfast tomorrow.” 

Law steadfastly ignored any invitation to join the fun. As the captain he was aware of all of your plans. He couldn’t help noticing the way the air in the Polar Tang was humming with excitement. The crew seems happier too, he wouldn’t yet say it, but Law knew you were good for their morale.  

“I’ll be in my office,” Law says. 

You knew it was coming but your shoulder’s still slumped a small fraction. Of course Law would stay in his office while everyone else was having fun. At first you thought your captain’s definition of fun was different from the crew’s but the longer you’ve stayed aboard the more you’re unsure. Every attempt you made to bring him out of his shell was met with resistance at best and outright rejection at worst. 

“You won’t stay for a little?” You ask, no longer trying to hide your disappointment. “I was kind of hoping you would.” 

Something passes across Law’s face, and then it’s gone and replaced with the cool, well-placed wall. Whatever it was, Law had decided to keep it from you. “No, I don’t have time for games, y/n-ya.” 

“Will you be there tomorrow? We all put presents under the tree,” you say. “It’ll be short, we’re just going to open them in the morning after breakfast and then get back to work.” Not to mention you knew your present from him was sitting under the tree, earnestly wrapped with a bow. 

“I doubt it,” he says. 

Just once you wanted him to stick around the ones who love him, yourself included. You’ve always tried to keep your feelings hidden, buried deep under a warm concern for Law’s well-being and an admiration of his skills. 

“I knew you’d say that, Grinch.” You have trouble keeping the bitterness out of your voice. 

You watch Law’s eye twitch. “Am I supposed to know what a Grinch is or are you making up words now?” Law sighs. 

Law’s not known to joke with you like this. The humor you two share consists of knowing looks, whispered barbs, and playful teasing,  but you still stare at him for a moment expecting some kind of punchline.

 “The Grinch?” You repeat.“You know the children’s story about a green monster guy that hated the holidays because he thought they were too loud and annoying so he tried to rob the neighboring town of all its trees, presents, and decorations? They didn’t have that story in the North Blue?” 

“No, I guess not,” Law says. “I’ve never heard that story before.” 

“Well,” you pull a sheet of cookies from the oven and replace them with another batch. “Does it not sound like a certain someone?” You ask playfully. 

He scoffs, “he’s not wrong. The holidays are loud and annoying. They’re a distraction.” Law finally bites into his cookie and pauses to stare at it for a moment, a flash of enjoyment shines in his eyes. He quickly covers it, lowering his head to hide his eyes below the brim of his hat. “Remind the others to keep it down tonight,” he says, then turns and leaves.  

You set aside some of the cookies cooling on the rack to decorate for him later. You chuckle to yourself a little; there were crumbs on your captain’s face. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. The party is fun, the crew has split themselves into three factions: the ones stuffing their face with cookies, honeyed meats, and thick spiced drinks,  the ones dancing to holiday music, and the ones still sitting around the table raucous with laughter as they play games. The only thing missing…the only person missing is Law. 

At some point he made an appearance to grab a plate of food (much later than he should have, you noted) and then disappeared back to his office. Thoughts of your captain kept lingering, until you couldn’t ignore them anymore.

Which is how you ended up standing outside of his office, with your hand hovering before his door—too hesitant to knock. Why shouldn’t he stop for just one night? Part of you knows it’s your own selfish desire to see him that brings you here, but you know you’re right. After all he’s been through, you want to see him happy. 

There’s a pause after you knock before he lets you in. Law’s seated at his desk, his gray eyes focused on a book in front of him. They slide up to look at you as you enter. 

“Hi,” you say. To give yourself an excuse you take the empty plate sitting on his desk. “Things aren’t too loud are they?”  

“No, thank you,” he says. 

His eyes don’t leave you as you had expected them to. He’s not so absorbed by his work that he looks away immediately. You don’t go into Law’s office often, but you’re one of the few crew members that can without an emergency. The small room is an eclectic collection of all the things Law keeps in his head. Shelves of books, maps, and scrolls line the walls along with a desk, safe, and a couch which you’ve occasionally found him sleeping on. You also pretend you don’t know about the collection of Sora comics hidden behind said couch.   

Law observes you, his hands folded in front of his face keep you from truly reading his expression. The air feels charged as neither of you can look away from each other. Are the tips of his ears red? You wonder.

“What?” You finally ask. 

“Nothing,” Law says. He coughs slightly and looks away from you, “actually, I…” You watch Law think the better of whatever he was going to say. It’s not just his ears that are slightly red, his cheeks dust pink as well. Suddenly your heart is hammering in your chest, butterflies make themselves known fluttering around in your abdomen and below. You’re on the edge of something, you just don’t know what yet. “Thank you for checking on me,” he says. “I’m fine. That’s all.” 

“Oh…okay.” For the second time, disappointment folds over your enthusiasm. “Don’t forget to give your eyes a break, Law,” you say. “Maybe come out and join us for a little bit? The holidays are all about being with the ones you love.” 

Law’s grimace doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “good night, y/n.” 

You’re pleased to know Law isn’t working himself to death in his office, perhaps he was taking a night off in his own way. Regardless, enough of your worry vanished to allow you to enjoy more of the party. You dance and drink late into the night, and even find that a holiday story is being broadcasted on a transponder snail. The crew, equally as exhausted and drowsy, pile together almost like kids sitting around a fire to hear a story. You flop down onto the couch beside them and drift off to sleep. The last thing you remember is the warm glow of the tree lights and the scent of pine.

You wake up to the sound of rustling pine and ornaments knocking against each other. Immediately you’re on high alert, heart bounding. All the sleep that would normally fog your brain and muscles evaporated. Someone was here, in the low light you could see a tall, thin figure crouched under the tree. At first you start to alert the crew, but as your eyes adjust you realize you know that frame, the shape and bend of that body. 

“Step away from the tree and put the present down,” you say, using the most authoritative voice you have. 

Having been caught red handed, Law stops what he’s doing and allows you to flick the common room’s light on. The clock on the wall reads some time just before four in the morning. Of course it could only be your captain. 

Law straightens from underneath the tree. He scowls down at you, holding a present in his tattooed hand. He quickly hid it behind his back. 

Tension slowly leaves your body and is replaced with annoyance and confusion. So many questions swirl in your head, but only one makes it out of your mouth: “I thought you said you’d never heard of the Grinch?” 

Law nearly chokes. “What?” 

“Sneaking in at night,” you say. “Stealing presents. That’s kind of what the Grinch does.” 

“I’m not stealing it,” Law says between clenched teeth. His eyes are hidden under the brim of his hat. Is he…is he embarrassed? “I’m placing it for tomorrow,” he mumbles. 

You look between Law’s blushing face and the tree.“Oh…” you mutter quietly. “I—well, that makes more sense, but…I thought you said you weren’t going to join us tomorrow?” You rub the back of your neck and look away from him. 

“I wasn’t,” he says. “But I—” You’re surprised when he brings forward his hand holding the gift. Law’s blush deepens and his determination to avoid looking at you grows. To spare you both, you stare at the gift neatly wrapped in his hand. It’s no bigger than his palm, a matte gray box tied with a golden bow. “It’s yours. I wanted to say thank you for…for your kindness.” 

You take the gift gingerly in your hands. “You were concerned about finding your place. I doubted you at first,” Law says as you unravel the bow around the box and lift the lid. “But I think your place is here.” 

Inside, a gleaming gold locket sits delicately on a white cushion. A gasp escapes you.

When did he do this? Why did he do this? Your heart beats wildly in your chest as your thoughts race. “I can't believe you….” The metal is cold and smooth against your fingers. It shines just enough to look thoughtful, but discrete enough that few would think of thieving it. That would be Law, you think to yourself, always practical. Still, the gesture touches you beyond words.

“Open it,” he says quietly.

The pendant opens with a small click and inside is a folded piece of white paper. 

A vivere card.  

You don't think you quite understand until the paper flutters away from you slightly. It moves in Law’s direction centimeter by centimeter.

You move the vivere card back into place and shut the locket. For Law to trust you with something so special and dangerous as his location stuns you. No matter what you’ll be able to find your way back to him. “I trust you, y’n... I trust you with the people most important to me and I want you to always be able to find me.”

“Thank you Law,” you say once you find your voice. “I…I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Law’s hand is warm and firm against yours, the feeling of him finally touching you melts every bone in your body. Your heart hammers in your chest. Your eyes slip from the softness reflected in Law’s gray eyes to his lips. “I’m attached to you in a way I’m not with most.” 

That’s all he needs to say for you to pull him close enough to kiss. A surprised sound escapes his mouth before he begins to react. His hand leaves yours to slide around your waist and pull you closer to deepen the kiss. 

You pull away when you're both breathless. A giddy smile pulls so wide your cheeks begin to hurt. Law pulls the necklace from the box and places it around your neck, still blushing as if this was more intimate than locking lips moments ago. 

“Do you know how the Grinch ends?”

Law rolls his eyes but, clearly, decides to humor you. “How does it end?” 

“He learns to love and his heart grows three sizes,” you say. 

[yupuffin]

"Dear Mortefi: Do not come to the laboratory. I've baked an absolutely disastrous mont blanc. Just completely ruined it. I'm so sorry. (In my defense, though, the meringues were the best I've ever made.)"

-Quay

(Based on a true story. 😜)

Quay's hopes were pretty high after the near-perfect meringues.

It'd taken them two tries to produce such immaculate meringues, the first attempt ruined by broken egg yolks making their way into the whites. Quay had taken a deep breath and, with spare eggs on hand, elected to conduct a second trial, following a much more meticulous procedure -- and, in their mind, the results were absolutely worth the extra effort.

Which led to their disappointment weighing all the more heavily on their heart when they arrived at Huaxu Academy the following morning, and opened the parcel they were carrying to find the treats they'd crafted partially dissolved.

They held their breath. So they'd thinned the chestnut puree too much after all, and the moisture content proved problematic for something fragile like a meringue. They couldn't even remove one from the pan without it threatening to crumble in their hands.

Perhaps a bit too harshly, Quay let their breath out. They scanned their surroundings in case any of the researchers in the laboratory were scrutinizing them too closely. Maybe they could get away with throwing out the entire package before anyone discovered them with this pitiful excuse for a dessert.

And they would have, right then and there, if not for the memory of promising the researchers this particular treat gnawing at the back of their mind. Quay had even continued to hype up the occasion in the days since, reminding the researchers of their commitment to deliver a helping of sweets worthy of anticipation.

Once again, Quay drew a deep breath. Their fingers itched with the temptation to toss the parcel and be done with it -- then, at least, they could stop beating themselves up over it.

But that was an irreversible decision.

Maybe they could salvage these desserts somehow. Maybe they could make it so giving them a chance wasn't such a disastrous idea.

Okay, so maybe the mont blanc wasn't as picture-perfect as they wanted. But, in some way, shape, or form, it was still edible, right? Perhaps just... with a spoon. Yeah, a spoon. It could be eaten out of a bowl, or something. It wasn't like the dissolution of the meringues made the whole thing poisonous -- especially not just overnight.

"Good morning, Quay!"

Quay's ears perked at the approach of a fellow researcher. But before Quay could even begin to turn around and explain themselves, the researcher's words continued.

"Oh, are these the desserts you said you would make?" Their voice rose in anticipation as they noticed the parcel Quay had set on the table before them.

"Well... sort of." Quay tried not to fidget too visibly. "I made really good meringues, but... I think I watered down the chestnut puree too much, and they ended up, uh... melting."

They set their jaw as the researcher peered into the parcel.

"I think they're still edible," Quay added, "but... I can't promise anything more than that."

"Oh, I'm sure if it's something you made, then it will definitely be edible, at least."

Despite Quay's utter lack of confidence, the researcher didn't seem the slightest bit dissuaded (even though the mere sight of the meringues was, by Quay's sole judgment, embarrassing).

"Did Quay bring treats again?"

The sound of an additional voice further elevated Quay's heart rate. At this point, it was only a matter of time before the whole academy gathered to witness Quay's pathetic attempt at mont blanc. They shook their head to dispel the image of the forming crowd, all eyes in the room focused on the package they'd presented. Were they to perish here at the hands of the researchers' ridicule, at least they were satisfied with the learning experience they'd derived from the meringue-making process.

"You brought mont blanc."

This particular voice, even and deep and rumbling like the sound of air over hot coals (and enveloping their heart just as warmly), snapped Quay from their reverie.

Navigating the room with great ease and confidence, Mortefi had already made his way to the table; now he stood next to Quay to examine the parcel, his presence solid and reassuring just beyond their left shoulder.

"I did!" Quay's anxiety further dissipated at the realization that Mortefi had recognized the dessert despite its lamentable state. "The meringues came out okay, but I made the chestnut puree too thin, so they ended up melting a little. I think they're still edible."

"I'm sure they're edible," Mortefi reassured them. Though his attention remained fixed on the package full of partially-crumbling desserts, Quay felt the telltale weight of the tip of his tail resting comfortably against their ankles. "Perhaps just with a spoon."

"Yeah, that's what I thought!"

Before Quay could get a proper look at his expression, Mortefi briefly stepped away from the table (presumably to fetch said spoon). Now, at least, instead of everyone watching the meringues, all eyes in the room were on Mortefi, awaiting his appraisal.

It was only a moment before Mortefi returned carrying a spoon in one hand, his curved talons deftly supporting the utensil, and an empty mug in the other. Now Quay caught a proper glimpse of his fiery eyes glimmering with intrigue.

"You've just made a mug cookie this time around."

Though the lines in Mortefi's countenance remained deep, as always, his voice was light with mirth. With minimal difficulty, he transferred one of the meringues to the mug. Quay watched the motions of his hands as he completed the dessert with the appropriate toppings of whipped cream and powdered sugar, and, finally, brought a morsel to his mouth.

After a moment of contemplation, Mortefi shot Quay an approving glance. "It's delicious."

All of the tension in Quay's body evaporated. So, despite the mishap, their mont blanc wasn't a complete disaster after all.

"Thank you. I'm glad." Mentally, Quay was victoriously pumping the air with their fists.

"It's difficult to find this in Jinzhou." As Mortefi spoke, he transferred the mug to his left hand, affectionately resting the other on Quay's back. Quay allowed themselves to melt into the warm touch (in a more subtle and picturesque manner than a melting meringue, they hoped).

"Yeah, the chestnuts aren't a common flavor here." Quay flicked their tail. "I had to get them imported, and it's expensive even for a small portion."

"Mm." Mortefi made a low, contemplative noise. "Well, I do appreciate you going through the trouble of making this for us. And I don't doubt that everyone here would agree with me."

It was then that Quay realized that they had completely withdrawn their attention from the room around them in favor of focusing on Mortefi. When they turned back to the parcel they'd left on the table, almost all of the meringues had completely disappeared, as if by magic. Satisfaction bubbled within their chest at the sight of the near-empty package.

That makes me happy. Quay took this as a reminder not to judge themselves too harshly, and that their friends at the Academy would likely appreciate whatever sweets they brought them, even if they weren't up to Quay's personal standards.

"I suppose that takes care of afternoon tea for the day," Mortefi mused. "Stay safe if you're going out on an expedition today."

Quay's eyes slid closed as Mortefi raised his hand to caress their right ear, his claws dipping softly into the velvety fur.

Quay leaned into the touch. "I will. Take care of yourself."

Now Mortefi withdrew his hand to take another bite of his mug cookie. "I'll do my best."

[killercooksblog]

KillerCook Baking Challenge

Howdy - In celebration of starting this blog, I present a challenge! If you've read the book, you'll know the first chapter was about BROWNIES! AKA the best dessert ever, probably. I'll post it below so if you have no idea what I'm talking about you can catch up and participate!

I love a good brownie, and I think everyone has their own unique way of baking goods that makes the recipe special in its own way! Yes, even box mix, cause I know not everyone is following those instructions all the time. If you're a raw batter eater, you're amongst safe company!

The challenge: I want you to make a pan of brownies with you're own secret ingredient that makes it *chef's kiss.* To participate, you gotta submit a pic of your brownie platter to my submissions or ask box by 3:00 PM EST Saturday, June 8th. Additionally, you need to submit a summary of the flavor and texture of your recipe, without saying the name of your secret ingredient.

For example: in my double mint chocolate brownies chapter, I would summarize it as - a dulcet double layer of cacao richness that's not too cakey and not too moist, that will leave you with a fresh and happy ending.

Or something like that. Get creative! I wanna rate your brownies! I'll be playing along too and for the sake of it, I won't be doing mint chips so I can leave y'all guessing too ;)

With the camera set in place, Killer dusted his apron and straightened his helmet one last time before pressing the ‘Go Live’ button, muttering a quick, "It's show time," under his breath.

“Hello, Killer here,” raising a hand in the air, the quarter sleeve of his dress shirt rolled neatly on his forearm. “Time for another day of relaxing vibes and delicious desserts. Today, I’m making Double Chocolate Mint Brownies. I love a goody, gooey brownie, especially when there’s mini chocolate chips and ganache involved.”

As he spoke the well-rehearsed introduction, Killer wandered around the kitchen pulling out mixing tools and fixing himself a glass of bubble milk tea, congregating on the island countertop. Oven already preheated, eggs and butter on standby and at room temperature. Slurping up a tapioca ball, he paused for a minute while he chewed.

“Mm, ‘scuse me, didn’t expect that one to come up all the way. Tasty. Moving on, you know my number one motto: A clean and sterile working environment is best when dealing with things you intend to eat. And please, enough with the Jason Vorhees jokes, my mask looks nothing like his. I’m trying to make a name for myself as an independent serial killer……of hunger and all your hearts,” he brought his hands together to make a heart shape for the audience.

The ping of a microtransaction being made caught Killer’s attention, leaning close to his phone. Someone had bought and redeemed a highlighted message, and it was one of those moments he wished he hadn’t added that incentive, now being forced to read and answer it live.

“MurderinoSquadAssemble has this to say – ‘a serial killer of hunger and OUR hearts? Seems sus but ok. #redflagbehavior.’ Calm down armchair detective. For the record, I haven’t been caught yet and it won’t be to the likes of you.”

Biting down a chuckle, Killer stepped back to put on plastic gloves, a baking hat, and his favorite apron. It was a faded blue color but what really made it endearing for him, was the print.

That’s Hot

It had a small whisk and measuring spoons sprawled on the bottom, and the capital T had a baker’s hat falling off it. Underneath the text, a stovetop on fire. A gift from Kid on his 25th birthday.

Smiling privately, Killer turned to give the audience his side profile as he tied the apron strings. His dress shirt clung to his muscled arms, threatening to burst if he flexed too hard. His ass looked firm and thick in the dark chino relaxed pants he wore.

Prepping the baking tray, Killer explained the ingredients he was using and his choices for alternatives. He preferred to use ethically sourced chocolate and tapioca flour instead of all-purpose flour. He used vegan butter but liked to brown it first to caramelize a bit before combining it to the batter.

“This flour is what I used to make the tapioca pearls for my milk tea in my 14th video. It’s still up if you want to check it out and give it some love,” he poured the batter into the pans.

Turning around completely, he walked to the oven to place the pan on the middle rack. Killer didn’t need to bend down as much as he did to place the pan inside. He also didn’t need to jut his hips backwards a little to make his butt look bigger on camera, but it was nice hearing the pings echoing in the kitchen as he was gifted with tips and praise. Not that he’d admit that to anyone of course.

Killer turned the volume of his Bluetooth speaker louder, enjoying the lofi channel playlist he chose for the day’s stream. It was hard to find good music these days, not with a DMCA lawsuit one flagged video away.

“You can find where I use the same ingredients for the pre-made mint filling layer in my 20th video, when I made my homemade No-reos.”

Underneath the kitchen island countertop was a small red button that Killer pushed. That was the alarm indicator Kid had installed to notify the redhead that it was time for him stop what he was doing, get dressed, and join the video for the taste test.

Hoping beyond hope that Kid would be wearing the clothes Killer laid out for him, the masked man entertained the audience. Acknowledging the redeemed gifts, answering comments and questions and taking a much needed bathroom break. Letting the ads run a bit longer to milk the revenue, Killer stood at the doorway waiting for Kid to make an appearance. Asshole was running late, unbelievable. HE WANTED to be in the live streams, Killer didn’t ask him to be a part of it.

Shaking his head, he sat down in front of the camera, preparing to be KillerCook once more. The oven had three minutes left on the timer and the smell of chocolate wafted. The stream continuing, he began whisking the ganache to pour over the brownies.

Killer heard Kid walking through the hallway as he whisked. Bursting through the door, shirtless, his golden piercings that littered his nipples, nose bridge and ears shined from the open kitchen windows that showed a beautiful sunny day outside.

Timer going off, Killer fumbled to the back while hissing out, “Put a fucking shirt on! Why do you do this every time?!”

“C’mon Kill, they’re not gonna ban you for male nipples, be real.”

“Not risking it, we’re already on thin ice for using copyright music after 2 warnings. Remember? That’s how you lost Your Job as the video editor. Put on a shirt or I pull the plug.”

Angrily swearing, Kid walked back through the door to find a shirt.

“The last step is pouring the ganache over the mint layer and spreading it evenly for a smooth coating. Then you’ll want to store it in the fridge to let the top layer set. This will take up to an hour or you can keep it in longer until you’re ready to eat.”

Cutting into the pan to prepare a square for Kid, the masked baker placed both the pan and the taste test piece in the fridge. Killer once again entertained the audience for the 5 minutes it took for Kid to come back, in a ruffled black vest that was unbuttoned. Killer pulled out a chair for him and went to retrieve the taste test square, placing it on the table in front of Kid.

Coming into view of the camera with an annoyed pout on his face, Kid shot a sneer at Killer before tightening his jaw and looking directly into the lens.

“Alright, now the reason you’re all really here. To watch me eat shit you can’t have and look hot doing it.”

Standing straight, he stuck out his right arm and flexed, slowly moving it down with deliberate motions that further focused on his bulging muscles instead of the baked good. Bringing it to his face, Kid licked his maroon painted lips before taking a bite with a grin. Letting out an approving grunt.

“How’s it taste?”

“Tastes damn good, brother,” Kid responded, biting into the brownie again.

“Can you uh elaborate some more for the audience?”

“It’s chocolate, tastes like chocolate,” he grunted out in between bites.

Sighing deeply, “Does the texture feel balanced? Is it too dry? Can you even taste the mint I added with the chocolate chips?”

Licking his fingers clean and wiping his mouth with the back of hand, Kid shrugged. “Tastes perfect. Like any good brownie should be, it’s moist,” devilish smirk on his face and he faced the camera.

Feeling Killer’s serious as fuck glare through the mask, “Yeah yeah you can taste the mint. It doesn’t overwhelm the chocolate but it wasn’t overstated either. Like a little nudge wanting acknowledgment.”

“And there you have it, moist and acknowledged. Tune in next time when I make one of my favorite dishes, Spaghetti aglio e olio. It’s simple to prepare and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End Livestream.

Killer lifted his baker’s hat, helmet and took his hairnet off, pulling his hair from the tight wound rubber elastic he’d put it in.

“One of these days you’re going to get me banned, dickwad. Think about that the next time you want to fuck around. All those comments of praise and validation gone just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “Because you can’t stop being a dumb whore for 5 minutes.”

“I’m a whore?! Oh stuff a brownie in yer mouth and calm down. You’re not you when you’re hangry,” Kid snickered, ducking out of the kitchen to avoid the stainless-steel bowls flung at him.

Bonus: The comment section

ICantEven101: Killer-san, why won’t my sauce stick to my noodles? KillerCook: You may be using too much oil or butter. A good trick is to add in pasta water to thicken the sauce. Corn starch is a good binder as well.

VanillyExtract: PunkNeverDied69 can I take you on a date? 🥺 PunkNeverDied69: You can’t afford my tastes.

GimmeDa’Za: Day 15 of asking for a Heat cameo and dutch oven pizzas. FlamingHot420: Why are you people obsessed with me? I walked into the kitchen ONE TIME.

[luvr-bunnyy]

fresh bread and the living dead

CARMEN BERZATTO x GN!READER

word count: 1.4k

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

warnings: none really, mainly fluff. no use of (y/n), carm calls reader ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ and one mention of blood

[a/n: alrighty…so, i’ve had such a shit year so far and i’ve also had terrible writer’s block…so i decided a good way to get out of it was to pick random characters and put them into like one of those spin the wheel things online, so yeah…here we go! ALSO !! huge ginormous thank you to @scealaiscoite , they’re halloween prompt list was a huge inspiration for this one and helped me out of my writing funk :( thank you my love 🫶🏼 anyways, enjoy !!]

The beginning of October brought a crisp chill to Chicago. Gloomy skies, roaring wind, a chill that seeps into your bones in the most exciting way possible, and it also brought one other thing. Something that you had been extremely fond of. 

Halloween. 

The best holiday ever. And no, that is not just an opinion. It is an irrevocable fact. 

And so, on one of your rare days off from The Bear, you woke up at 7am. Carefully slinking out of bed to not wake your boyfriend- sorry, fiance. He had a tendency to not want to sleep in on his days off but because you just wanted him to rest, you unlocked his phone and shut off his alarm. Leaving him to rest with a kiss at his temple. 

With a yawn and stretch, you shuffled into the kitchen and started to pull ingredients from your cupboards. Flour, yeast, sugar, etc. There was only one way to start the fall season off the right way. Pumpkin Conchas. Marcus had mentioned them during prep one day and you just hadn’t been able to get them off your mind, you had immediately drafted up a recipe and the both of you had worked on perfecting it. 

So as you kneaded the dough, all you could focus on was the light and airy feeling of surprising Carm with the warm and delectable bread first thing in the morning. 

Your biceps and forearms ached the slightest bit as you placed a tea towel over the bowl that held your dough and with a satisfied sigh, you made your way back to the room to change. 

Quickly and carefully stepping into some jeans and a beige waffle knit thermal, topping off the simple outfit with boots and Carmy’s checkered wool jacket. The faint smell of his cologne made your cheeks redden, heart squeezing with adoration and love. 

And after a quick trip to Target, you returned with a few bags full of goodies and a dirty chai topped with a deliciously thick pumpkin cold foam. 

When Carmen woke up, the delicious smell of baked goods hit his nose. It had definitely offset the disappointment of figuring out that you had sabotaged his early morning alarm but he could never really be angry with you, especially not when he felt so relaxed and rested.

Sluggishly, he climbed out of bed and made his way to the kitchen where the sound of a pan moving against the stove top caught his attention. His shuffled footsteps caught your attention and a fond smile pulled at your lips. “Morning, bear.” He just hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders on instinct. “You’re just in time. I made you breakfast.” 

“Smells great, thanks baby.” He placed a soft, chaste kiss against your lips. “Busy mornin’?” He asked somewhat rhetorically, noticing the oven timer still going and the grocery bag with a very familiar red logo on the front. 

“Oh well, uh yeah…just-just a few essentials we needed.” You shrugged, leaving him standing by the stove with a guilty smile. 

“Oh man…” He laughed to himself, expecting to be met with something ridiculous. 

And boy was he right. The second he stepped into the open dining/living area, he was met with an interesting sight. 

There were soft orange colored string lights hanging from the top edges of the wall. The decorative pillows he was familiar with had been replaced by pillows with the fluffy shape of ghosts and jack-o-lanterns embroidered on the front, a plush plaid throw blanket with a printed pumpkin pattern was slung over the arm of the couch.

 The basket tray on the coffee table had a cheesy looking halloween candy bowl filled to the brim with his and your favorite sweet treats and a new set of coasters. A cute little ceramic ghost sat on the glass surface of said coffee table, alongside a lit candle that was something along the lines of caramel and pumpkin. 

He could never understand your obsession with the holiday but you looked so happy, he would never do anything to jeopardize your joy. So, he grinned and gave a simple, “Looks great in here,” before sitting and enjoying the omelette and sausage you prepared for him. 

As he took his first bite, you pressed play to resume the movie you had been watching and the sound of a blood curdling scream, followed by the image of gushing blood made Carmen jump. You, however, seemed unaffected as you continued to hang another set of lights around the window. 

“Sweetheart…” He called out to you, a worried frown etching onto your face. His wavering tone leading you to believe something was wrong. 

“Yeah? Is it the omellette? Is it not good? I asked Syd for advice since I’m shit at cooking anything with eggs. Dammit.” Your dejected tone tugged at his heart. 

“No, no, no. It’s not the omelette. Promise. It’s actually really good. You did-you did great. No, it’s just-” He took a deep breath. “I uh-I really appreciate that you’re getting into the uh, the halloween spirit or-or whatever but it’s ten in the morning baby. Could we turn off the slasher movie for a sec, please? At least until I’m done eating?” 

The silence that followed made him nervous that he upset you but he was relieved when a quiet laugh left your throat. “Oh! Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Relief flooded your chest. “I’m glad the omelette’s good.” You grabbed the remote and paused the movie once more. Carm watched as you left the app and went back to the homescreen. 

“Thank you, you can go back to it when I’m done eating. I’ll uh, I’ll help you with the rest of your-your decorating.” 

“Aww thanks bear.” 

His focus returned to his breakfast until the familiar notes of ‘This is Halloween’ met his ears and he sighed but the sound of you ecstatically singing along with the animated ghouls on the screen had any protest he had dying on the tip of his tongue. The promise that followed the ding of the oven was more than enough consolation for having to have seen this film for the thousandth time this month. 

[masked-alien-lesbian]

HLAW Day 4: Competitive/Culinary AU

The Cordonian Bake-off

Pairing: Famous baker Hana Lee x master chef turned baker Raelyn Zane (nonbinary OC)

I decided to combine both Competitive Hana and culinary into one fic. Hana is one of the world's famous bakers, winning all sorts of awards and even had her own show. The problem is that annoying master chef Raelyn Zane is slowly infringing onto Hana's territory. In a competition with all other opponents defeated, it's down to just Hana and Raelyn. Can Hana stay on top? Or will Raelyn's flirtation be her downfall?

"And the clock is ticking folks! Our two finalists are going head to head in this final round of who is Cordonia's best baker!" Carson's voice and the studio audience's cheers were mere background noise to Hana as she quickly went to the cupboards to gather her ingredients. Flour, baking soda-Hana's train of thought abruptly crashed to a halt at the feel of her rival behind her.

Raelyn pressed up behind her, one hand on her hip, their front pressed all along her back as they reached over her head to grab the brown sugar on the top shelf. Hana spun around and Raelyn grins that maddening grin.

"Just need some sugar, sugar." Raelyn winks and backs away. Hana huffs

"There's sugar all the way over there." Raelyn just grins and casts a lazy glance where Hana is pointing.

"Ah. So there is." Raelyn says before turning back to their station. Hana takes a deep breath and hurries back to her station. She refuses to let that infuriating, cute baker get in her head.

The time seemed to fly as the two culinary geniuses worked on their masterpieces. At one point Hana's eyes drifted over to her rival and she marveled at Raelyn's intensity and steady hand as they encased their dessert in meringue. Feeling her eyes on them, they looked up and immediately their facial features softened, the two rivals getting lost into each other's eyes.

"Uh oh, it seems like our two rivals are staring each other down!" Carson's voice shattered the moment and Hana quickly looked back at her work of art, shaking her head to clear it. Their time was almost up!

Soon the audience was counting down the timer.

"4...3...2...1!"

"Alright contestants! If you would please stop and present your desserts to the judges." Carson announces. Soon Hana was carefully sitting her croquembouche tower next to Raelyn's elegant dessert. Hana's heart sank as she eyed Raelyn's perfect looking baked Alaska. Lemon meringue was the most challenging dessert for her and Raelyn's work looked like a master piece.

"What do you have for us contestants?" One of the judges ask. Raelyn nods at Hana to go first.

"My dessert is a croquembouche. A French dessert made up of cream-filled profiteroles stacked together in the cone shape, you see before you, and then caramelized." Hana says proudly.

"It looks beautiful Miss. Lee. What about you Mx. Zane?"

"My dessert is a baked Alaska. A layer of sponge cake topped with chocolate ice cream and raspberry sorbet encased in meringue and baked in the oven." Raelyn states.

"A very elegant dessert, Mx. Zane." Yvette Flynte, one of the judges says before they all dug into Hana and Raelyn's desserts. Hana and Raelyn stood tensely as the cameras panned across their faces and the judges whispering among themselves.

"We've come to a decision. First off Mx. Zane, your baked Alaska is beautiful. The flavors are complimentary and are perfect together. The only problem is that it has no soul. I've taste tested many of your other dishes Mx. Zane. Your consomme devilish dish is one of the best I've ever had, dare I say, better than mine. Until you've capture that spark that you have with your main course dishes, your desserts will always be lacking." Yvette Flynte says. Raelyn looks down at their feet for a moment before looking back up with a soft smile.

"Thank you Miss. Flynt for your feedback. I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"Now Miss. Lee. This is the best croquembouche I've ever had. The cream filling is different but flavorful, the profiteroles crisp but light to perfection. That is why Miss. Hana Lee...you are this year's winner of the Cordonian Bake-Off!" At this confetti falls from the ceiling and the audience goes wild. Hana gape at the judges who stand up to shake her hand. She looks back at Raelyn who is proudly clapping for her and mouths to her, "good job". Afterwards everything is a blur as the judges present her trophy and she makes her winning statement.

It isn't until she's alone backstage when Raelyn walks into her room.

"Hey congrats! That's one big shiny trophy you got there." Raelyn says walking up to Hana who blushes.

"Thank you. Second place isn't a bad accomplishment yourself." Hana says, Raelyn shrugs.

"It was never really about winning the competition, I mean don't get me wrong. I wanted to win, mainly to impress you but..."Raelyn trails off suddenly unsure of themselves.

"But why? What made you compete then?" Hana asks.

"I mean, broadening my horizons, challenging myself and learning new things is kind of my jam. But mainly I joined this competition to be able to join your circles. I wanted to make an impression on you."

"You definitely made an impression on me. Mainly an annoying one." Hana says heart thumping in her chest. Raelyn wryly rubs the back of their neck.

"Yeah, probably not my best work. I'm sorry. Can we start over? Maybe collab some time?" Raelyn asks nervously.

"Perhaps. Only if you kiss me." Hana says shocking even herself by her boldness. Raelyn lights up and immediately brings their lips together. When they pulled back they have that once maddening now endearing grin on their face.

"What?" Hana asks

"Perhaps I left a different impression on you than just annoyance." Raelyn says smirking, Hana rolls her eyes and grabbing them by the lapels kisses them again.

@sazanes

@hanaleeappreciationweek

@lizzybeth1986

[l-lend]

@clonexreaderbingo

a/n: second square down let's gooo! I don't know if tooka pastries are a thing, but if anyone finds me one I'd be grateful. Blue dividers by @saradika

@locitapurplepink, @rain-on-kamino, @writing-positivelyexisting, @burningfieldof-clover, @padawancat97, @ahsokastechie

The young woman stifled a yawn as she continued to work the mass of dough to her standards to be plopped into pans to bake. She continued working the dough sparing glances to the chrono on the wall as the sky outside began to lighten with the sunrise. Her pulse spiked when the chrono was checked again. She abandoned the lump of dough as she snatched up a pastry box. The bell chiming as the door opened and closed.

The brisk walk to the pier was nerve wracking. Her eyes scanning among each early riser. With her target nowhere in sight, she clambered down to the edge of the pier. The box place on top of one of the stakes to avoid the chance of the confections being trampled underfoot. She whipped around and began making her way back to the bakery. Her heart leaped into her throat as she caught a glimpse of him. He often towered over the villagers as he made his way to his morning fishing spot. A swear slipped from her lips. Every nerve in her body screaming to run.

Thankfully someone was looking out as a group of sailors called out a warning. Their net loaded down with their catch swung wildly with a crate knocked aside. Its contents never met the ground as a pair of strong hands kept it stable. A surge of heat washed over her face before she took the opportunity to flee.

A gentle shove pushed the crate back in place as the large clone pulled back. He offered a wave to the sailors when they yelled out their thanks. Once the deed was done, he returned to his leisurely stroll along the pier to cast his line for the morning. His usual fishing spot held an unfamiliar box. He would have ignored the plain parcel, however his interest was piqued at seeing his name written across the top.

The lid opened with a soft tug of a tab. Nestled inside were tiny confections molded into the shape of tookas. They appeared as if they were posed to be laying on their bellies. Slivers of color, later discovered to be fruit, tucked in between their paws while a fine white powder was dusted along their backs. He gingerly plucked up one of the treats before popping it into his mouth. A moment of awe washed over him as the mass of sugary goodness met his tongue. His fishing pole paid forgotten while he emptied the box.

A familiar face was leaned against the Marauder while a pair of legs peeked out from underneath.

“Catch anything good, big guy?”

The large clone shook his head.

“Nothin' today, but those little pastries were great.”

“Pastries?” The treasure hunter chuckled, “You pick up a secret admirer?”

He shrugged his massive shoulders, “Only had my name on the box, so thought it was from one of the villagers.”

Phee covered her knowing smile with her hand, “You might be on the right track.”

“It's obvious on how you can narrow it down, Wrecker.”

The clone underneath the ship began to shuffle out just enough to meet his brother's gaze.

“If it was left out for you, and seeing as how you got it, it could be inferred that they know of your habits while being on Pabu. Either they stayed up to deliver this parcel to you or they are usually up at sunrise when you go fishing.”

Wrecker frowned as he thought over Tech’s explanation before looking to Phee.

“So…they wanted me to have this, but didn’t want to stick around for me to thank them?”

“Looks like it, but did those pastries look Ike anything special?”

The large clone lit up, “Yeah! They were shaped like tookas. They were almost too cute to eat.”

Phee’s smile grew, “I think I know who you might be looking for.”

The clone next to her leveled a gaze from beneath his glasses, “and that would be..”

She huffed a laugh, “You’re smart, brown eyes. You don’t need my help figuring it out. Besides it might be best if he goes to see about it himself.”

The larger clone groaned, “Can I at least get a hint?”

“Why don’t you ask around to see if the bakers on the island sold any like your pastries.”

With that said, Wrecker set off back into town to hopefully track down his secret admirer.

Hours passed by as he asked a couple of the shops. The first one had no idea of the tooka shaped confections while the other suggested another shop by the water. It was well passed the afternoon by the time he had returned to the coast. A few of the villagers greeted him as they passed, and he did offer his usual greeting in return, but he was on a mission. Hopefully, the baker could help him.

The door chimed as he pushed open the door.

“Just a minute.” Called a voice from the back.

He waited patiently as he heard what could be trays clattering together before his gaze drifted down to see the woman emerge. Spots of flour speckled her apron with her hair swept out of her face. The bakery suddenly felt a bit warmer.

She approached setting down a tray laden with loaves of bread on her counter. Her fingers idly tracing the edges.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh..yeah, I was looking to see if you sold any pastries?”

She nodded abandoning her tray to usher him toward her display case.

“I’ve got a few I sell regularly. What exactly are you looking for?”

Wrecker eyed up each one of the desserts ranging from cakes to pies and even some smaller hand held treats, but he sighed.

“These are nice, but I was lookin’ for ones shaped like tookas.”

When he turned back to see her face, she had gained some color to her cheeks. Perhaps it was the heat from being near an oven all day.

“Tookas?”

“Yeah, I’ve been lookin’ all over for who made ‘em. And well, this is the last bakery I could find.”

She idly fussed with her hands, “Ah, well that’s a shame. I’m sure they taste pretty good with the fruit held in their paws.”

Something clicked.

“How did you know?”

Her eyes grew wide, “I…”

He regarded her expression for only a moment, “Did you make ‘em?”

A hand cradled the back of his neck, “Because if you did, they were really good.”

Her gaze was cast downward focused on her twiddling fingers, “Thank you. I’m glad you liked them.”

The tables turned as the clone looked down at her, “Can I…take you to dinner? To thank you for the sweets.”

The smile he received made his chest clench.

“I’d like that.”

[swampstew]

KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight's story. Rated Mature for language.

Killer is a TikTok content creator recording cooking and baking videos, and Eustass Kid is his taste tester. These are there shenanigans. This series was entirely inspired by Instagram Star - Justinsaiyann - a very good looking and buff baker who shows off his skills and glutes in the kitchen. Written to star the Kid Pirates in a modern setting.

With the camera set in place, Killer dusted his apron and straightened his helmet one last time before pressing the ‘Go Live’ button, muttering a quick, "It's show time," under his breath.

“Hello, Killer here,” raising a hand in the air, the quarter sleeve of his dress shirt rolled neatly on his forearm. “Time for another day of relaxing vibes and delicious desserts. Today, I’m making Double Chocolate Mint Brownies. I love a goody, gooey brownie, especially when there’s mini chocolate chips and ganache involved.”

As he spoke the well-rehearsed introduction, Killer wandered around the kitchen pulling out mixing tools and fixing himself a glass of bubble milk tea, congregating on the island countertop. Oven already preheated, eggs and butter on standby and at room temperature. Slurping up a tapioca ball, he paused for a minute while he chewed.

“Mm, ‘scuse me, didn’t expect that one to come up all the way. Tasty. Moving on, you know my number one motto: A clean and sterile working environment is best when dealing with things you intend to eat. And please, enough with the Jason Vorhees jokes, my mask looks nothing like his. I’m trying to make a name for myself as an independent serial killer……of hunger and all your hearts,” he brought his hands together to make a heart shape for the audience.

The ping of a microtransaction being made caught Killer’s attention, leaning close to his phone. Someone had bought and redeemed a highlighted message, and it was one of those moments he wished he hadn’t added that incentive, now being forced to read and answer it live.

“MurderinoSquadAssemble has this to say – ‘a serial killer of hunger and OUR hearts? Seems sus but ok. #redflagbehavior.’ Calm down armchair detective. For the record, I haven’t been caught yet and it won’t be to the likes of you.”

Biting down a chuckle, Killer stepped back to put on plastic gloves, a baking hat, and his favorite apron. It was a faded blue color but what really made it endearing for him, was the print.

That’s Hot

It had a small whisk and measuring spoons sprawled on the bottom, and the capital T had a baker’s hat falling off it. Underneath the text, a stovetop on fire. A gift from Kid on his 25th birthday.

Smiling privately, Killer turned to give the audience his side profile as he tied the apron strings. His dress shirt clung to his muscled arms, threatening to burst if he flexed too hard. His ass looked firm and thick in the dark chino relaxed pants he wore.

Prepping the baking tray, Killer explained the ingredients he was using and his choices for alternatives. He preferred to use ethically sourced chocolate and tapioca flour instead of all-purpose flour. He used vegan butter but liked to brown it first to caramelize a bit before combining it to the batter.

“This flour is what I used to make the tapioca pearls for my milk tea in my 14th video. It’s still up if you want to check it out and give it some love,” he poured the batter into the pans.

Turning around completely, he walked to the oven to place the pan on the middle rack. Killer didn’t need to bend down as much as he did to place the pan inside. He also didn’t need to jut his hips backwards a little to make his butt look bigger on camera, but it was nice hearing the pings echoing in the kitchen as he was gifted with tips and praise. Not that he’d admit that to anyone of course.

Killer turned the volume of his Bluetooth speaker louder, enjoying the lofi channel playlist he chose for the day’s stream. It was hard to find good music these days, not with a DMCA lawsuit one flagged video away.

“You can find where I use the same ingredients for the pre-made mint filling layer in my 20th video, when I made my homemade No-reos.”

Underneath the kitchen island countertop was a small red button that Killer pushed. That was the alarm indicator Kid had installed to notify the redhead that it was time for him stop what he was doing, get dressed, and join the video for the taste test.

Hoping beyond hope that Kid would be wearing the clothes Killer laid out for him, the masked man entertained the audience. Acknowledging the redeemed gifts, answering comments and questions and taking a much needed bathroom break. Letting the ads run a bit longer to milk the revenue, Killer stood at the doorway waiting for Kid to make an appearance. Asshole was running late, unbelievable. HE WANTED to be in the live streams, Killer didn’t ask him to be a part of it.

Shaking his head, he sat down in front of the camera, preparing to be KillerCook once more. The oven had three minutes left on the timer and the smell of chocolate wafted. The stream continuing, he began whisking the ganache to pour over the brownies.

Killer heard Kid walking through the hallway as he whisked. Bursting through the door, shirtless, his golden piercings that littered his nipples, nose bridge and ears shined from the open kitchen windows that showed a beautiful sunny day outside.

Timer going off, Killer fumbled to the back while hissing out, “Put a fucking shirt on! Why do you do this every time?!”

“C’mon Kill, they’re not gonna ban you for male nipples, be real.”

“Not risking it, we’re already on thin ice for using copyright music after 2 warnings. Remember? That’s how you lost Your Job as the video editor. Put on a shirt or I pull the plug.”

Angrily swearing, Kid walked back through the door to find a shirt.

“The last step is pouring the ganache over the mint layer and spreading it evenly for a smooth coating. Then you’ll want to store it in the fridge to let the top layer set. This will take up to an hour or you can keep it in longer until you’re ready to eat.”

Cutting into the pan to prepare a square for Kid, the masked baker placed both the pan and the taste test piece in the fridge. Killer once again entertained the audience for the 5 minutes it took for Kid to come back, in a ruffled black vest that was unbuttoned. Killer pulled out a chair for him and went to retrieve the taste test square, placing it on the table in front of Kid.

Coming into view of the camera with an annoyed pout on his face, Kid shot a sneer at Killer before tightening his jaw and looking directly into the lens.

“Alright, now the reason you’re all really here. To watch me eat shit you can’t have and look hot doing it.”

Standing straight, he stuck out his right arm and flexed, slowly moving it down with deliberate motions that further focused on his bulging muscles instead of the baked good. Bringing it to his face, Kid licked his maroon painted lips before taking a bite with a grin. Letting out an approving grunt.

“How’s it taste?”

“Tastes damn good, brother,” Kid responded, biting into the brownie again.

“Can you uh elaborate some more for the audience?”

“It’s chocolate, tastes like chocolate,” he grunted out in between bites.

Sighing deeply, “Does the texture feel balanced? Is it too dry? Can you even taste the mint I added with the chocolate chips?”

Licking his fingers clean and wiping his mouth with the back of hand, Kid shrugged. “Tastes perfect. Like any good brownie should be, it’s moist,” devilish smirk on his face and he faced the camera.

Feeling Killer’s serious as fuck glare through the mask, “Yeah yeah you can taste the mint. It doesn’t overwhelm the chocolate but it wasn’t overstated either. Like a little nudge wanting acknowledgment.”

“And there you have it, moist and acknowledged. Tune in next time when I make one of my favorite dishes, Spaghetti aglio e olio. It’s simple to prepare and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End Livestream.

Killer lifted his baker’s hat, helmet and took his hairnet off, pulling his hair from the tight wound rubber elastic he’d put it in.

“One of these days you’re going to get me banned, dickwad. Think about that the next time you want to fuck around. All those comments of praise and validation gone just like that,” he snapped his fingers, “Because you can’t stop being a dumb whore for 5 minutes.”

“I’m a whore?! Oh stuff a brownie in yer mouth and calm down. You’re not you when you’re hangry,” Kid snickered, ducking out of the kitchen to avoid the stainless-steel bowls flung at him.

Bonus: The comment section

ICantEven101: Killer-san, why won’t my sauce stick to my noodles? KillerCook: You may be using too much oil or butter. A good trick is to add in pasta water to thicken the sauce. Corn starch is a good binder as well.

VanillyExtract: PunkNeverDied69 can I take you on a date? 🥺 PunkNeverDied69: You can’t afford my tastes.

GimmeDa’Za: Day 15 of asking for a Heat cameo and dutch oven pizzas. FlamingHot420: Why are you people obsessed with me? I walked into the kitchen ONE TIME.

Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3

[screamingay]

hi! do you know any good baking recipe that doesn't use milk and that an idiot can make by any chance? I trust you more than I trust google

honestly i feel like a majority of the things i bake don't include milk, although it's true i don't avoid it despite being lactose intolerant >.> anyway this is a vague request so im giving many suggestions to cover all my bases

1. lots of cakes are very simple to make and use water and/or oil instead of milk and/or butter (if butter is an issue for u also), especially chocolate cakes/cupcakes like this. and then id just go with store bought frosting tbh

2. cookies are pretty easy and dont require any milk. if dairy in general is the issue there are still looots of recipes out there like this one that use oil instead and come out perfectly fine. alternatively, cookie bars! even easier than cookies! and one step further is brownies, which usually use oil anyway

note that with all of these it is sooo so essential to either measure out ur flour on a scale or gently spoon it into ur measuring cup and then level it with a knife, u never want flour packed tightly in a measuring cup

3. im also thinking abt rice krispie treats! super versatile, my favorite way is smth like this but u can get so creative and cut out fun shapes and shit. make it as fancy or lowkey as u want. i enjoy mixing in some mini mallows at the very end after the cereal so u get a bite of just marshmallow sometimes. truly the hardest part for me is washing the pan afterwards lmao

4. in that same no-bake vein, i love melting chocolate (sometimes with peanut butter, sometimes without) and mixing in literally whatever cereal i want then forming little piles and letting them set. to this day the best ones i ever made used the fiber one cereal but chex works great too. there are recipes for these but measure with ur heart tbh.

5. if u want something like that but with baking maybe macaroons? dipped in chocolate usually? only if u like coconut ofc

6. banana bread is typically easy, as are most quick breads like it. usually the only dairy in banana bread is butter but replacing with oil is perfectly fine, just use a recipe like this that's meant to have oil

however at the end of the day if a recipe calls for plain old milk it's usually perfectly fine to substitute a nondairy milk. if it calls for cream or butter or yogurt those can be harder to substitute without affecting texture or flavor. and remember google can still be your friend! i am fully reliant on looking up recipes for almost everything i make lmao it's just about finding one that prioritizes my goals for the final product and is within my means to make

[cherryrainn]

...Babysitting with Oncie? Either own or other's kids :3

i was having a lot of fun with this, so i ended up writing a story and the headcanons are at the end!

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— tiny tots and big hearts

babysitting with onceler (headcanons + a scenario)

you and onceler embarked on the daunting task of babysitting a group of energetic and mischievous kids. from the moment you arrived, it was clear that this wouldn't be an ordinary babysitting experience.

the kids seemed to have an endless supply of energy, zooming around the house and getting into everything they could find. they played with pots and pans like drums, created art on the walls with crayons, and turned every room into a battlefield for their imaginary battles.

you exchanged glances with onceler, both of you realizing the enormity of the challenge ahead. but you were determined to make the best of it.

"alright, kids," you said, summoning all your patience. "let's channel all that energy into a fun activity. how about we build a giant fort?"

the kids' eyes lit up with excitement, and they eagerly started collecting pillows, blankets, and furniture to construct the fort. chaos ensued as they raced around, laughing and bumping into each other.

the fort took shape, albeit a little lopsided and with pillows falling every now and then. but the kids didn't seem to mind. they crawled inside, giggling and imagining grand adventures within their makeshift fortress.

you and onceler watched from a safe distance, both exhausted and amazed at their boundless enthusiasm. "well," onceler said, wiping sweat from his brow, "at least they're having fun."

you chuckled, nodding in agreement. "that's one way to look at it."

after the fort-building frenzy, you attempted to gather the kids for a quieter activity. "how about a storytelling session?" you suggested. "we can all take turns telling our own fantastical tales."

the kids reluctantly settled down, their energy still buzzing. as each child shared their imaginative story, the room erupted with interruptions, wild plot twists, and uncontrollable laughter.

the stories were far from coherent, but they were filled with childlike wonder and excitement. you and onceler joined in the silliness, improvising tales about talking animals, flying jellybeans, and magical sock puppets.

by the end of the storytelling session, you were all breathless from laughter. the kids, still bursting with energy, bounced around, mimicking the characters from their stories.

as the day wore on, you and onceler attempted various activities, from outdoor games to crafts and baking. but each endeavor seemed to amplify the chaos, leaving you both on the brink of exhaustion.

finally, as the sun began to set, the kids started to wind down. they flopped onto the couch, their once frenetic energy replaced with sleepy yawns and droopy eyes.

as you and onceler finally had a moment of peace and quiet, you slumped back, your exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. onceler let out a long sigh, his eyelids drooping with fatigue.

"we might have to reconsider our babysitting careers," you joked, rubbing your temples.

onceler chuckled weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. "i think i've got a newfound appreciation for parents and their superhuman energy levels."

just then, the kids, worn out from their day of non-stop excitement, began to yawn and stretch. their eyelids grew heavy, and one by one, they settled into a peaceful slumber.

you and onceler exchanged a knowing glance, the weariness in your eyes mirrored in each other's gaze. with a mixture of relief and fondness, you watched the kids sleep, their soft snores filling the room.

"you know," onceler murmured, "it wasn't that bad.."

you nodded, a tired but content smile on your face. "yeah... alright."

as the house grew quiet, you and onceler allowed yourselves to finally relax, feeling the weight of the day slip away. the room was filled with a sense of accomplishment.

with a gentle pat on the shoulder, you turned to onceler. "i guess we survived then..?"

onceler let out a tired chuckle, his eyes closing slowly. "barely."

as exhaustion took hold, you and onceler found solace in the peace of the moment. the day had been wild, unpredictable, and utterly exhausting.

and as you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the soft breathing of sleeping children, you both silently vowed to take a break from babysitting—for now.

headcanons

both you and onceler are a mix of nerves and whatever as you prepare to babysit together for the first time.

you've heard that children can be quite a handful, but you're ready to do your best.

you'd both take turns reading stories to the child, trying your best to do funny voices for each character.

at some point, the children might get a little mischievous, and you'd have to chase them around the house.

it was annoying.

onceler would suggest making paper hats, and you'd find him wearing one himself, acting silly to make the kids laugh.

you'd be in charge of the glue and scissors while onceler would help the kids with their coloring skills.

when it's time for the kids to take a nap, onceler might try to use his guitar-playing skills to lull them to sleep with a soft melody.

you'd be in charge of tucking them in and reading a bedtime story, but inevitably, the kids would ask for "just one more story" several times.