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hairmetal666 · 4 months

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Steve who goes on a Bake Off type show after Robin, Dustin, and Max set him up as a contestant. He doesn't want to, doesn't think baking or cooking should be stressful, but he's been wallowing since his knee surgery took him out of work and basketball, since his divorce.

His first day on set, he's totally gobsmacked by the sexy host with all the tattoos and long, curly hair. Just, cannot take his eyes off the guy, blushing and stammering whenever he comes around to do interviews, obviously can't stop starring.

After the first day, where he manages to stay comfortably in the middle of the pack, he calls Robin to complain about what a mess he becomes around this gorgeous dude.

Her response is to cackle and say, "Steve! How do you not know who Eddie Munson is? Oh my god, you're a disaster."

Turns out, Eddie Munson is the lead singer of Dustin's favorite band, Corroded Coffin, and also pretty well-known for his dnd YouTube channel. He's been a host on the show for years, only Steve doesn't really pay attention when the others watch it and didn't know.

Eddie, for his part, is losing his mind. He'd known about the beautiful contestant for this season, former college basketball superstar turned coach, having a hell of a shitty year after dislocating his kneecap in a charity game. Eddie--foolishly, it turns out--thought he wouldn't be as attractive in person. He also expected Steve to be terrible and egotistical, a jock through and through.

So, when Steve Harrington walks into the tent in a short-sleeved polo and obviously ironed jeans and is still drop-dead gorgeous, he's fucking flabbergasted. And then Steve has the audacity to be nice? Kind and thoughtful and running to help other bakers when he still has work to do himself? He also blushes so pretty, high across his nose and cheeks, and god does hewant to be the reason Steve blushes like that.

Eddie is beside himself.

Leading up to the second week, Steve schools himself into being calm around Eddie. He can't afford to lose his cool like that every time the host is around. Except, this week Eddie flirts with him shamelessly. Winks at him, leans into space, calls him "m'lord" with this deeply resonant voice that makes Steve want to drop to his knees. Steve doesn't mean to, not really, but he flirts right back, feeding Eddie tidbits of his bakes and looking for any excuse to touch him.

Steve does well for the first half of episodes. He never wins the technical or star baker, but he's regularly within the top contestants. On episode five, though, something is off. He's distracted, forgetful, doesn't leave enough time for his custard to set in the signature. Eddie asks if he's okay, but Steve shrugs and smiles, says "off my game today."

But then, in the technical, he curdles his buttercream more than once, and his genoise sponge burns. Eddie watches as Steve folds his arms above his head and disappears from view. He doesn't hesitate, he sprints from his interview, falling to his knees in front of the contestant.

"Stevie, sweetheart, what's going on?"

"I get migraines," Steve whispers. Trails of wet streak down his cheeks. "I've felt one coming all morning, been trying to stave it off but--"

"Okay, okay," Eddie shakes out his hands. "You can sit out this challenge, yeah? Or take this weekend off. It happens. You'll come back next week--"

"I don't want to stop." More tears fall from his eyes.

"What do you need?"

Steve shakes his head, wry little smile pulling at his lips. "Time to breathe."

Eddie glances up, eyes catching on the camera crew hovering in front of them. He throws both middle fingers up and says, in the most reasonable and even tone, "fuck!" Everyone in the tent looks at him, but he doesn't stop. "Shit!" "Bitch!" Motherfucker!" He goes on and on, saying the filthiest series of things he can think of. The camera crew steps away, another contestant brings Steve a glass of water, and Eddie sits with him.

The other host announces that there are thirty minutes remaining in the challenge.

"Well. That's that, then," Steve says. He stands, patting the naked skin of Eddie's knee where it shows through the rip in his jeans as he goes.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Out of time, no cake, no buttercream."

Eddie hops to his feet. "You're going to let that stop you?"

"Well." Steve laughs. "Can't serve this." He gestures to his discarded bowls of frosting, his burnt cake.

"You have time to make another buttercream."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Sure, but not the cake."

"Cut the burnt off. Cover it in the buttercream. Easy peasy."

"Okay..." Steve stares at his station. "Okay, that could work. It won't be pretty, but--"

Eddie, knowing he's no longer needed, steps away, and Steve gets to work.

Steve tells Robin all about it and, as soon as he gets home from the taping and she's immediately like, "Eddie Munson, huh?"

He shoots her a look. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, him leaping over a table to check on you is surely nothing."

"Robin," he warns.

"What?"

"Eddie would never want a guy like me."

She laughs but quickly grows sober. "Steve. Of course he would. He likes you."

"It's nothing, really." He walks towards the kitchen. "What do you want for dinner?"

Eddie experiences the same harassment from his band members and their manager.

"You're gonna ask Harrington out, right?" Gareth asks.

"That would be a little bit of a professional conflict of interest," he deadpans. He doesn't look up from his guitar.

A puffed Cheeto smacks him square in the forehead. "Hey!" He shrieks.

"He means once the season is done, Edward," Chrissy says.

He wipes the cheese dust from his forehead. "Not a good enough reason to call me Edward. Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's straight."

Jeff guffaws. "C'mon, dude. No way. He's so into you he might as well have a neon sign."

"He divorced a woman."

"That doesn't mean anything, and you know it," Chrissy says.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I may be considering asking him out. Maybe."

Everyone cheers. More Cheetos hit him in the face.

---

To Steve's great surprise, he makes it to the finals. Not just makes it, he gets a star baker, gets first in the semi-final technical. He's baking in the final and might have a fucking chance.

It's with great surprise, once it's all said and done, that he hears his name announced as the winner. He doesn't have much time to process it, because Eddie is striding towards him. He's not carrying the cake stand trophy or flowers, it's just Eddie.

Eddie who stops in front of him, eyes shining. Eddie who leans in and whispers, "I knew you could do it, baby, I'm so proud of you." Eddie who twines his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling him into a soft, sweet kiss.

The internet explodes as the season airs. Everyone is obsessed with Steve and Eddie. They have fics on ao3, a dedicated tumblr community, edits, playlists, gif sets, a ship name all dedicated to them. The fandom grows after episode 5 airs. Not all the footage makes it, thanks to Eddie, but they still witness him tenderly taking care of Steve and directing the cameras away. Fans start scouring their social medias, looking for any hint of their relationship status; even beg them in comments and DMs to reveal if it was just a showmance.

Eddie and Steve, however, are happy in the quiet little world the carved out for themselves after filming. They aren't ready to reveal anything, even hints, whether or not the show would let them.

Then, the final airs and the kiss is revealed to the world. The ending title cards show a picture of Steve with the rest of the season's bakers and the caption, "Steve threw a party for the other bakers..."

The picture then changes to one of he and Eddie, arms wrapped around each other. This caption says: "...at the home he shares with his boyfriend Eddie."

That night, in bed, Steve says, "I'm really glad Robin and the kids made me go on the show. But do you think it's bad that the thing I'm happiest about, way more than winning, is that I met you?"

Eddie places a slow circle of kisses in the dip of Steve's lower back. "Sweetheart, I'd be disappointed if you said anything else. Now, hush, I have a baking champion to congratulate."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #fluff #mutual pining #bake off au #tv host eddie munson #bake off contestant steve harrington #i just finished the latest season and had to make it steddie #mel and sue used to do the thing where they cussed and flipped off the cameras so upset bakers couldn't be filmed

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mariusroyale · 2 years

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im gonna miss eating food so much

there’s blood in my mouth

hnnnghh

#text post #im gonna gorge on custard #and make a fucking ganache #might as well slurp on some buttercream

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3000s · 2 months

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💐 spring recipes

working on my spring list of recipes i wanna tryyyy, i'm starting with desserts but i'll add my drinks list next, don't forget to join my pinterest recipe collab board if you haven't already!

🍰 sweets + desserts:

vanilla lavender cupcakes with honey buttercream

strawberry & rose petal ice cream

lemon lavender sugar cookies

strawberry crunch cheesecake

rhubarb rose popsicles

strawberry rose snickerdoodles

white chocolate floral bark

raspberry & rosewater kulfi with toasted almond sprinkles

strawberry panna cotta with lemon shortbread

rose & pistachio kheer pudding

elderflower panna cotta with macerated strawberries

lemon & elderflower curd

tea jellies

rose milk popsicles

baked lavender blueberry donuts

earl grey & vanilla bean mille feuille with lavender

orange cream cheese cake

lilac dream cheesecake

lemon lavender loaf cake

rose cardamom shortbread cookies

strawberry rose cake donuts

double strawberry sugar cookies

earl grey tea truffles

lemon yuzu & matcha tart

citrus rose thyme loaf cake

rose custards

lychee rose cake

honey chamomile panna cotta

strawberry pistachio elderflower mousse cake

cherry blossom matcha doughnuts

cherry blossom petit fours

raspberry lemon & orange spring cheesecake

lavender thyme & white chocolate scones

rose & pistachio tres leches

rose tiramisu

sweet lilac bloom rolls

apricot chamomile cream popsicles

lavender sorbet

#txt #recipes

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springwife · 1 month

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NEW CHERRY CAKE • Layers of Cherry Blossom Millet Chiffon soaked in sweet Coconut Milk, sandwiched with Coconut Custard and Cherry Vanilla Jam, enrobed in Black Sesame Licorice Buttercream.

#spring #food #curators on tumblr

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sourlemonsprout · 2 months

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𝐵𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇

Alphonse x Seth x SugarBoo (gn!reader)

Word Count: 1,913

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This little town absolutely loved to throw festivals, no matter the occasion - whether it was Christmas, Beer, Halloween, Music, Summer Solstice, or Spring, the locals poured their heart and soul into it. You appreciate how much spirit and enthusiasm they can pack into a celebration. After your delicious display of baked sweets at the annual Christmas festival a few years ago, the townsfolk practically begged you to cater at every event, and this time around was no different. If you could bake the treats the morning of to ensure they were as fresh as possible, you would. Unfortunately, there was too much to do in too little time, so you settled on the night before. Everything was going smooth as buttercream until you reached the new recipe you decided to try out. You wanted to step up the game and try something fancy, and what better way to go than Canelés de Bordeau, a small French pastry with a custard center and a thick caramelized crust. You'd acquired the special copper molds years ago, yet you'd never tried to make them until tonight, and it was starting to seem like you'd bit off more than you could chew.

"fuck fuck fuck fuck!" you yell slamming the oven door closed, hands pulling at the top of your hair as you walk in circles around the kitchen. The angered outburst and slight smell of burning sugar had caught the attention of the pink and brown-haired boys sitting in the next room over watching a movie.

"Boo?" Alphonse called from the couch. Seth shot Al a concerned glance as he paused the TV before they gingerly crept toward the kitchen. You felt the boy's eyes on you from the doorway, but didn't look their way. Your movement stopped, jaw tight and fists clasped in a white-knuckled grip, your hands practically shaking. Al ran up beside you and rubbed the sides of your arms.

"Hey, hey! Baby! It's ok." he bent at the knees slightly to look you in the eyes.

"Let's just breathe for a moment, yeah?" He helped guide your breathing by inhaling deeply through his mouth and out his nose until you seemed physically calmer. Seth peaked in the oven and quickly understood what the outburst was about. The custard was bubbling over their little trays, the edges starting to burn. He didn't know much about baking, but based on their state and your reaction, he knew this meant they were unsalvageable, so he turned off the oven and removed the tray.

"Talk to us, what's goin' on?"

"I wanted to try something special and it's completely ruined." you pout.

"Well Sugar, you already have two fantastic-lookin' treats, I'm sure everyone would be just fine with this." Seth tried.

"Yeah! And you know everyone is going to love whatever you hand out," Alphonse added, but it was no use you were fixated on these Canelés.

"I always have at least three items." you protest.

"What do you want to do?" Seth questioned, moving a little closer to you two. Your mind was consumed by anger and scattered thoughts, making it difficult to focus. Alphonse scanned your face as you thought, seeing that this wasn't helpful, he threw out an option, hoping this would alleviate decision-making stress.

"Do you want to go to the store and pick up something pre-made to hand out tomorrow?" he proposed softly. You shot him a cold glare that could kill.

"Ok, ok." he threw his hands up.

"They're looking forward to my baking. They specifically requested my catering again." you expound. As you continued to mumble about the quality of store-bought goods, Alphonse looked across the kitchen. The countertop was littered with ingredients and the sink was on the brim of overflowing with dirty dishes. He glanced over at the clock, which read 11:09 pm.

"Ok, well, it's gettin' late, do you want to try and make another batch?" he questioned.

"I don't have enough eggs or butter to make another batch," you state.

The kitchen was uncomfortably silent for a few moments, the smell of burnt defeat loomed in the air above you three.

"Gimme a list Sugar, I'll head out and grab whatever you need," Seth spoke up.

"Yeah, and while he's out, I'll help clean up the kitchen!" Al said eagerly. The heavy frustration that lingered in your chest finally fizzled out, and a tired fuzziness settling in your system took its place. Your face turns into a downward smile and despite your best efforts, you can't stop the tears that are flowing down your cheeks.

"Oh Boo," Al chuckles, scooping you into a bear hug.

"You know we're here for you," Seth joins the hug, wrapping his arms tightly around the both of you.

"I love you guys so much," you sniffle into their chests.

"Okok," Al says, gently pulling you away from his chest, a hand slides down to the small of your back as he tilts his head to look at your tear-stained face.

"Why don't you go take a hot shower to relax babe, it's going to be a minute before everything is ready for you," he said placing a smooch on your forehead.

"mmk," you sniff, handing your apron to Al before shuffling your way upstairs.

"I still need that list..." Seth mumbled as he watched you disappear.

"That's alright man, we can look at the recipe and figure out what they need," Al said, cracking knuckles.

Seth knew he'd have to find a convenience store to pick up all the necessary ingredients, given grocery stores would be closing at this time of the night. He finally found a 7-Eleven and pulled into the parking lot. As he stood next to his bike rubbing his hands together and blowing into them to regain warmth, he mentally reviewed the list he and Al had made.

Fuck, why do all convenience stores have to have such bright lights? He thought as he entered the shop squinting. He made quick work and gathered everything on his checklist. Just as he was about to check out, a neon sign caught his eye toward the back of the store. He wandered over to the refrigerated display cases. I'll never understand why they enjoy this stuff, it's just battery acid in a fancy can. He thought to himself as he picked up your favorite energy drink.

You sat on the floor of your shower, enjoying the steaming water pouring over your back as your muscles relaxed. How incredibly lucky were you to have two amazing people taking care of you? As the warm water eventually ran out, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower and wrapped yourself in a towel. You tiptoed out of the bathroom and made your way to your room to slip into some comfy clothes. You let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of the soft fabric against your skin. The mere thought of putting on jeans again made you feel suffocated and discouraged as if you were about to embark on a daunting task. As you rubbed the towel through your hair one last time, you heard the faint sound of the front door opening, followed by the crinkling of bags. Now that the red cloud of frustration wasn't blinding your every thought, you were able to reflect upon the disappointing batch of custardy treats. Descending the stairs slowly, you carefully pondered every detail before devising a new plan that you hoped would result in a perfectly crafted batch of delicious treats. As you rounded the corner back to the kitchen, which was now sparkling clean, Seth caught your eyes and held up your favorite energy drink with a big toothy grin.

"I got this for ya since I figured you'd be stayin' up pretty late."

This man truly knew the way to your heart.

You walked over to where he stood and took the can before cupping the side of his face and placing a big kiss on his cheek.

"Aw look at you tryin' to score brownie points," Al smirked.

The evening drew on, and the boys did the best they could to stay awake with you as you baked the night away. Eventually, Al had to tap out and go to bed, not before promising to help package all the goodies the next morning. Seth was not too far behind, he was practically half-asleep at the kitchen table when you told him you had it all handled, and that he should go to bed. Exhaustion started to prick at your mind, the effects of your caffeinated beverage were wearing off as the last few minutes of the oven's timer ticked down.

As you pulled out the tray filled with perfectly baked Canelés, a tremendous wave of relief and satisfaction washed over you. The feeling only intensified as you cautiously removed each pastry from its molds, revealing a beautiful amber caramel coating. They looked as if they had just come from a French bakery. You lazily cleaned a few items around the counter before calling it quits, there'd be time tomorrow to deal with this mess. Grateful to finally be done, you dragged yourself to bed and collapsed in between your boys, nuzzling your face in between Seth's shoulder and draping an arm over his side. Just as you were about to drift off, you felt Alphonse slide up behind you, your back now flush against his chest as he rubbed your arm sleepily.

"m'love you Boo..." he whispered against your neck before falling back into a deep sleep.

Hours later, you woke up and reached out, expecting to find someone by your side, but the bed was completely empty. Confused, you sat up and rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the grogginess of sleep. Panic started to rise in your chest as you checked your phone to see that the festivities were starting in fifteen minutes. Despite your time constraint, you couldn't help but spend the extra minute to throw together a cute outfit, before running downstairs. You were slightly out of breath when you reached the festival, which was set up around the heart of town, near Al's shop. Your pace crawled to a halt as you spotted Seth standing beside a table with his back to you. The boys had chosen a charming tablecloth that complemented the decor of the foldout table. They'd packaged and arranged the three batches of baked goodies, aligning them neatly for folks to grab them and go. You snuck up behind him and slipped your arms around his waist, resting your chip on his shoulder.

"Well hey there sleepin' beauty, or should I say baking beauty?" he chuckled at his own joke, to which you roll your eyes. You turn to the sound of another familiar voice,

"How'd you sleep Boo?" Alphonse asked, handing you an iced caramel latte, your favorite.

"Oooo! I'm definitely gonna need this," you say happily taking the coffee from your boyfriend.

"Look who's trying to score brownie points now," Seth mumbled sassily.

"Honestly, I slept pretty good!" You say, taking a quick sip,

"Seth's snoring is like the perfect white noise, it lulls me right to sleep," you giggle.

"You guys are seriously the best," You set your latte down and then wrap your arms around each of them, pulling them close to give them a little kiss.

"I couldn't have done this without you."

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The End <3

#yuurivoice #yuurivoice fandom #yuurivoice stuff #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice fanfic #yuurivoice seth #yv fanfic #fanfic #fluff #writting #alphonse yuurivoice #seth yuurivoice #yuurivoice sugarboo #poly #sourlemonsprout

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indulgentandidiotic · 1 year

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TWST w/ an MC Who Bakes Them Homemade Sweets! (Housewardens excluding Leona)

Warnings: Mentions/implications of DISORDERED EATING in Riddle and Azul's parts.

GN! Reader

Synopsis: You bake them sweets!

Riddle Rosehearts:

* Riddle is a huge fan of sweets! Especially tarts, custards, and all things strawberry~ !!

* So, if you ever came up to him bearing desserts of this nature, he’d be ecstatic! Though, if you gave him sweets briefly after his overblot incident, I imagine the extremely strong influence his mother had on him may make him a bit reluctant about accepting them (I’m still haunted by that scene where she described the nutritional contents of Riddle’s “birthday cake”. He doesn’t need to hear that!!!)

* Another thought that comes to mind… Perhaps Riddle has had a fairly weird relationship with food. Is it possible that shortly after Riddle enrolled at NRC, he had trouble deciding what would be best to eat? Would he have also been tempted or uncomfortable watching other people enjoy eating whatever they wanted, along with seeing the abundant presence of sweets in the area? How did he manage Unbirthday Parties up to this point when mostly all they served were candies, pastries, cakes, and sweets?

* Though, if you gave him sweets a significant while after his overblot, when he has gotten significantly better, I imagine he’d still be very happy and grateful, but less apprehensive about accepting your kind gesture.

** Rushing around the room, you hurriedly scooped the whipped cream into the piping bag from the mixer and grabbed your dessert box and ribbon at the edge of the counter- squeezing the cream onto the smooth top of the custard tart and carefully positioning the fresh strawberries upon the fluffy cream. Then, you sprinkled a light dusting of powdered sugar on top, thus making this strawberry tart sweet enough to give someone diabetes.

And after boxing and tying the tart up in a shiny red ribbon, you flew out of the Ramshackle kitchen and through the front door and sprinted towards Heartslabyul. …

*** Riddle looked to you in surprise. Really? That beautiful tart is for him, you say?

* “Th- thank you, Y/N! This looks absolutely delicious. Oh? You made it yourself?! My, that’s amazing.” Riddle graced you with a small smile, gazing at the tart lovingly. You think you might’ve even seen a few tears well up in his eyes…

Suffice to say, Riddle was extremely happy with your thoughtful gift and praised you endlessly on the taste. It was as if you imbued magic into the tart to make it sparkle in the light and taste heavenly. Honestly, you think the only other time you’ve seen him smile this hard is when he ranked #1 in every single one of his classes a while back.

… Sometimes… Riddle requests you to help tr*y out with baking for the Unbirthday Parties. Between you and me, I think Riddle asks this because he likes your sweets better than tr*y’s. And though tr*y is kinda mid, you agree. I mean, how could one ever say no to Riddle?

Azul Ashengrotto:

* Why…. Why would you do this to him…. He’s trying to keep track of his calorie intake, isn’t he?

* So, you and Azul often have study sessions together. Both of you are very smart and wonderful individuals, and you…. being the angelic lovely soul that you are, like to bring snacks to those sessions. Cue you baking perfect macarons of varying shades for normal study days, piping buttercream frosting onto fluffy cupcakes for testing weeks, and making soft and warm mini waffles for early morning sessions.

* Azul… absolutely adores you, he does! You’re nice to him, you listen to him, you help him out, and you genuinely want to spend time with him! But… and while he loves your sweets, as well, you’re really just breaking his dieting.

* Depending on how much he eats of your scrumpdiddliumptious treats and his mood, he either feels like treating today as a cheat day/deserved dessert or as a crime against his body.

* Though, because it’s you, perhaps he can eat a little more. You are a good baker. .. Maybe you should work at the Mostro Lounge. Here, Azul’ll sign a deal with you~!

** “Are you ready for today’s session?” Azul asked, smirking at you as he plopped a hot stack of papers, books, and study guides onto one of the Mostro Lounge tables. Eyeing the stack wearily and warily, you nodded, also setting your ‘stack’ of sweets onto the table.

You two were studying for the semester exam later that week, and with Grim’s grades, you were sure to get the highest score you could to prevent your average from getting pulled down by Grim.

** As you sat down at the table and got out your pen and notebook, you picked up one of the rich chocolate cupcakes from your stack. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Azul grimace. With a mouthful of delicious, moist, fluffy cake, you asked Azul if he wanted any- and with a shake of his head, he replied, "Oh no. I couldn’t.”

** You: “Why not?”

** Azuzu: “You know, I- I just don’t think that much sugar’s good for me…”

*** And with that, your eyes lit up. “Well, Azul… I actually tried some new recipes that reduced the sugar and calorie amounts. And besides, it’s scientifically proven that eating sweets increases focus. I know even you can’t get perfect grades without studying, so why not increase your studying power with a snack?”

Azul stared at you. “You tried a new recipe?”

“Yeah! Especially for you! I know you like sweets, and I know you can be pretty conscious about calories and stuff.. so I… I just wanted to help you be able to eat a lot of yummy stuff without worrying as much about sugar and things…”

At this point Azul wasn’t looking at you anymore. From this angle you could maybe see a faint blush and ghost of a smile as Azul looked at his open textbook. And… possibly with a slight quiver in his voice, you heard Azul ask… “You did this for me?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft smile threatening to show on your beautiful face. “Of course Azul! I like you. I want to make you happy.”

Silence… Then Azul took a deep breath and put on his best client-winning smile. “Well, thank you, Y/N!” And with a much softer smile… One you might’ve mistook for being genuine if you didn’t know any better, “I really appreciate it.”

** You: “Well then, let’s get to stuffing our faces and studying till our brains fall out!!”

** Cue you two finishing the whole basket of macarons you baked, and Azul’s mood increasing exponentially.

Vil Schoenheit:

* Oh, you’re another one of his fans, yes? Well, Vil will accept your lovely box of homemade chocolates and apple ‘n spice cupcakes with a heart-stopping smile! … And then turn to give it to some lucky Pomefiore soul once you’re gone.

* Well? Can you blame him? This man is on a strict diet after Rook told him his jawline looked a tad fatter last week. There’s no way he’s going to indulge in some sweets! Not even if he wants to.

* But… if you’re not just one of his fans…. If he knows you and you two are on good terms, why… Well, maybe he’ll indulge just this once… Oh. OH! OH SEVENS ABOVE!! Dear me, are you a master chef or something?!

* Vil is astounded! You bake better than tr*y!!! Now, whenever Vil sees you in the halls he has to physically restrain himself from walking over to see if you’ve baked anything new.

* And if you’ve managed to find a to-die-for recipe that has reduced sugar and calories and all that good stuff? Well, Vil is done for. He’s done. Congrats! He is your man now.

Kalim Al-Asim:

* This man is a tricky one, for sure. On one hand, your sweets do look delicious, but… he’s had bad experiences with others’ food in the past. The only one he trusts is Jamil!!!

* Though, perhaps if you get Jamil to approve your food, then maybe Kalim will try it! And if he does? Whoo, boy, Kalim will love you forever!

* Seriously!! Your treats are amazing!!! They taste so good! And there’s so much variety! There’s the way way too sweet ones (which Kalim loves), the ones that are savory, the ones that are mild…. You make cakes, and pastries, and gelatins, and ice creams….!

* If you ever start a bakery or try to sell your goods, Kalim will be sure to help you! He’ so grateful you gave him good food and didn’t try to poison him, it’s the least he can do!

Idia Shroud:

* Is very confused? Why are you giving him candy? Wait! You made this YOURSELF???!! Then why are you giving it to him?! Give this masterpiece to someone better!!!

* Haha jk lol, but seriously. I think Idia would be touched that you thought him special enough to give him a gift. And homemade, no less! He’ll remember this day forever~ Maybe he’ll find you approachable enough after this event to ask you for more candy, eh?

* He might even cry and giggle and scream into his pillow while he kicks his feet in the air, who knows.??

Malleus Draconia:

* Child of Man. One is very touched that thou chesen to grace thyself with the gift of ‘baked goods’. One shall cherish this gift till mine’s last beat of the heart.

* You heard the man. He loves your gift! Many people are afraid of him, though all he wants is friends. So why wouldn’t he be ecstatic when you decide to show him some love and give him the priceless gift of homemade sweets?

* Perhaps you’ll gift him more treats in the future? But even if you don’t, Malleus is sure to stick by you. You’re one of the first to approach him, and for that he is grateful. After this event, I’m sure he’d want to know more about you, and become true friends. Sebek is probably jealous of you, though, so watch out….

**They got progressively shorter as it went on. Sorry :( And a special apology to Leona likers.

**I know Vil also has a slight weird relationship with food, but I wrote this at a time when I didn't know that, and I'm too lazy to rewrite things. Maybe in the future I'll do him and Leona justice.

#one of the first works i ever did!#indulgent writing 🍓#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #previously found on theheavilyinulgentgoat. but no more

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oolhan · 3 months

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our little games

Wordcount: 1.7k

| Post-mockingjay. Peeta and Katniss making up their own guessing game with pastries that he brings home every night from the bakery |

No warnings! It’s literally a fluff fest following my realization about what Peeta and Katniss smells here and @mollywog’s replies conceiving a sudden birth of this prompt. Lol. This is my first time writing for everlark and I kid you not I oiled up my rusty writing skills from lit classes. Thanks also for @distractionsfromthefood for your support! Unbeta-ed, but enjoy!

It started when I came home early from the bakery, surprised to find Katniss curled on the couch covered with her oversized hunting jacket. She looked up from the arm rest and her cheeks were red and dry with tears. Nothing surprising, honestly, it’s just one of those days. I automatically walked up and knelt on her side, forgetting to take my shoes off in the foyer.

“Who is it this time?” I hushed, giving attention to her black strands clinging dry on her cheeks, softly flinging them aside while her head rested on the arm rest.

“Dad…”

“In the woods?” I glanced at her father’s hunting jacket she used as a blanket and carefully move it to wipe her tears, tucking its collar under her chin.

“No, couldn’t get past the door…”

“Okay, do you want to stand up now?”

“No…” A silence.

“Stay with me though?” Ah. There it is. Yeah, alright. Always.

She scooted on the couch to give me space and I obliged, lying down cramped with my shoes still on, faces inches from one another.

“What do you want for dinner?” I whispered, caressing her brow with my thumb. I’ll never get tired brushing her face this way.

She scoffed a smile. “Pancakes?”

“Pancakes?” my eyebrows shot up. Pancakes for dinner?

“Yeah, you smell like maple,” she chuckled, her eye wrinkles right under my thumb.

“Probably because of the maple butterscotch brownies I made for Sae’s granddaughter today,” I murmured, tracing lines on her nose. “She said she didn’t know what maple tastes like,”

“That’s so Peeta of you to do,” she grumbled, mustering all seriousness with her brows. That made me snort.

“Yeah, well.”

“I want those butterscotch stuff now.”

My smile got wider.

----

The next day, I set aside some of the cupcakes I frosted for the seamstress’s kid’s birthday to bring home for Katniss. I never got to take my shoes off when she wrapped her arms around my neck, her face on my chest, the boxed sweets held on my free arm as I put the other over her.

“Hello, again,” I say, giving her a kiss after leaning back. “I’ve got you something,”

I hid the blue box behind me, smirking at her head tilting in curiosity. “You have to guess it first!” I played.

“Is it food?”

“Mhm.”

“Cheese buns?”

“No, I just made those for you two days ago.” I chimed. Her and her obsession with cheese buns.

“Those butterscotch brownies?”

“Unfortunately sold out,”

“Wait,” She reached for the front of my jacket, sniffing it. Then she’s whiffing off my undershirt, my hands, my chest, my neck. I tried not to shiver when her nose pressed under my earlobe.

“Buttercream…”

I tried not to grin.

“Cupcakes?” She eagerly tugged on my jacket.

“Oh, Katniss,” I chuckled, presenting the box wrapped with a simple red bow. She unties it and quickly picks the one with green frosting.

“This would be dessert after venison!”

----

After that, I practically came home everyday bearing random pastries for her to guess. I never get my shoes off in the foyer when she hauls herself on me and give my daily hugs.

“Ooh, something creamy today,” she quipped, leaning back from my undershirt. “Is it a cake?”

“Not even close.”

“Tarts?”

I shake my head.

“Something with custard?”

“Probably.”

“Custard pie?”

“Warmer,”

“Egg pie?”

“Warmerrr,”

“Ice cream? Vanilla cake with cream frosting?” She tugs on my jacket repeatedly, almost shaking me to give up my answer.

“Sweetheart, you’re cold again.” I tried not to laugh at her growing impatience when strands from her braid fell on her face, the box still unreachable behind me, and my free arm curling those anrgy locks between my fingers. Her eyebrows are beginning to crease the way they do when she gets close enough to Haymitch’s geese.

“What is it, Mellark?” Oh, I love nothing more than seeing her scowl.

“Guess, Everdeen. Or I’ll eat this alone after din—” She cut off with a grasp on my head and a kiss on tiptoes.

“Tell me now, Mellark!”

“That’s coercion!” I teased. She leaned up for more pecks, but I backed away chuckling.

“Peeta!”

“Alright, let’s make a deal. Guess this right with three tries, or give me a kiss every time you bite to it.” I challenged, plastering an impish grin.

“How am I supposed to guess it? All pastries have cream!” Her eyebrows are close to meeting now.

“Oh yes, minced meat pie is creamy.”

“Is it minced meat pie?”

“No, it’s not savory.” I clued in, getting impatient myself. I didn’t even take my shoes and jacket off and we’ve been playing this guessing game for minutes now.

Just pick the latter and let me kiss you.

She crossed her arms playfully, “Screw you, Mellark. I’ll take the second option just because dinner is getting cold. Now give it.”

“Groundbreaking choice.” I thumbed her annoyed forehead and unraveled her angry arms, revealing the box from behind and untying the red ribbon.

Her creases came back when she saw the hidden pastry.

“How is bread pudding close to a pie?!” She exclaimed, all angry tone and yet she’s pinching off a piece from the pudding. I made some batches up from the stale ones.

She bites through the pinched bread. I took the first peck.

----

It became a routine. Coming home at dusk. Stomping my shoes on the foyer. Her arms clinging briefly, nose sniffing, her guessing every item right, a peck on the lips, a dinner and a dessert.

“You smell dill and garlic today,”

“Did it cling that strong?”

“Doesn’t matter. I like it, it’s soft, like a little savory treat.” She murmured in my ear, rendering me still when she softly nipped my earlobe.

She never does that.

Her arm swooped under my elbow, taking the blue box from my hands and revealing a bed of focaccia sprinkled with dills. “Hmmm,” she moaned through her bites and I fought the urge to kiss that crumb off on the side of her mouth.

Is she trying to kill me?

I coughed, brushing off her innuendos and finally taking my shoes off.

----

Assuming her favorite days were cinnamon and buttercream, she does more than just short kisses whenever those days come. The soft bites on my neck and earlobes happens only when I come home smelling like it. That’s the time I sink down my fingers in her hair a little deeper or my hands grip her hips a little tighter.

Today, I grasp her braid a little stronger, my arm roping around her backside, giving her neck some nips of my own. I breathed her in, taking a whiff of her own scent—woods, sweat, something feminine, and entirely Katniss—wishing I could store away some of her in this manner, freezing this moment. I let her lift my head and kiss me senseless, mouths meeting, tongues twirling.

“I, uh, frosted someone’s wedding cake today,” Taking a peck on her nose, I tried to catch my breath when we break away.

“requested something with cinnamon and buttercream frosting,” I sighed, brushing off her brow, noticing her now diluted eyes. I failed to bring anything home because of those three tiers.

“Good for them,” she breathed.

“Couldn’t bring home anything,”

“Good for me,” She gulped and collided our mouths again. She took my shoes off along with my jacket. Dinner got cold that night.

---

Fall had a slow welcome. It was a seasonably cold day when she doesn’t push herself to me after I opened the front door. Disappointed, I took off my shoes and head to the living room, finding her standing up from near the fireplace when she noticed me. Our memory book laying on the carpet along with some papers.

“Hey you,” her cold form wraps around mine and I tried not to ask her what’s wrong too quickly.

“Guess?” I quipped, pecking her red cheeks. Did she just come back from outside?

“Butter cookies?” even with her wavering tone, she was right. Although I don’t point out the way she hid a small choke when she hugged me.

“You okay?” I let out warm breath on my palms, placing them on either side of her face and this time I felt her visibly holding her breath, her nose scrunching. “What’s wrong? Who is it this time?”

“No, no episodes. I just… I was nauseous the whole afternoon and tried to walk it out. I think I just miss them,”

“Hm. Come here, let’s warm up,” I led her to the fireplace and sat down together, the memory book lay open in front of us.

“Actually Peeta, I think I’ll prepare dinner.” She suddenly stood up, giving me a kiss on the forehead before heading to the kitchen. That was uncharacteristic of her.

But I didn’t question it. Not yet.

I started to wonder when she doesn’t meet me in the foyer anymore. Our guessing game slowly turned from minute hugs to silent smiles. It was when I brought home some seasonal apple pie that she couldn’t hold back a gag when she tried to hug me.

Doesn't she like apples? Can’t I recall if she hated apples?

“God I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to gag at all. I just, I don’t know, it just smells sour.”

“I baked them fresh this morning so they’re likely not foul. But yeah, okay, I’ll just drop these off to Haymitch—”

“No, Peeta, your hands. They smell so apple-y.” Her expression was a twist of scowling and being disgusted. I sliced dozens of apples today so the scent clung too much even when I washed off with some soap.

“Sweetheart, we chopped all day at the bakery, the smell will last for some hours I think,”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why, I always liked apples,”

“It’s okay, let me give these to Haymitch and then I’ll scrub off in the shower.”

----

The next day I brought home some of the extra orange cake slices, dreading she’ll also hate these.

They were never put down on the table.

She devoured three slices in minutes.

Also gobbled my orange scented fingers.

----

Still mildly unhappy we didn’t return to our guessing games after a week, I didn’t bring anything with me today. I was taking my shoes off when I saw her beaming by the couch, her face tinted red with anticipation and she looks like she’s about to cry.

“What? What is it?” I rushed to her in my loose shoes and jacket still on.

“Peeta, I think I know why.”

Eyebrows crinkled. My hands on her elbows.

"You know I always love what you make but...

Her fingers fidgeting. Her blushing cheeks and silver stare the only things registering in my mind.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

She guessed right.

#everlark #post mockingjay #everlark drabble #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #everlark fic

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