Oneshots of mainly anime. Crack fics, pairing fics, reader inserts, and more. May include other fandoms. Maybe OC's.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any character besides my OCs. But, the plots are mine. I don't own any images unless I state so.
It wasn't her fault that she fell asleep by the warm oven.
Most of the time.
It wasn't her fault that she easily became drowsy when she tended the fireplace.
All the time.
Y/n just couldn't help it. The warm heat always makes her sleepy and her eyes droop without her knowing. Ever since she was little, she had wanted to become a baker. But her parents never had time to buy her the ingredients and utensils. They would excuse themselves when she brings up the occasional "Mom/Dad, when can I bake cookies?" They would smile sadly and say, "Later, dear. I'm busy."
It seems as though they were always busy.
There was one time in fifth grade she so desperately wanted to bake cookies to help support her school. Yet, her parents did not give their consent. And so, she borrowed the materials from her friends. The night before the cookies were to be turned in, she popped them into the oven. While waiting, she sat by the oven and gazed at the reddish-orange hue glowing in the darkness. The cold from the stone tiles beneath her feet and the heat from the oven drew her into a peaceful sleep.
A peace which was soon interrupted by screams and sirens.
The family barely managed to survive with the fumes and smoke everywhere. Luckily, only their kitchen was damaged. Y/n was forbidden from going into the kitchen.
Arthur Kirkland lived with his brothers. At a young age, he had always adored his mother's scones. He was always the one most excited for tea time. His oldest brother would say, "Pah! You're no different than the girls in frilly dresses and stuffed bears. Always having little tea parties." To which his mother would scold, "Allistor, Arthur can eat his scones in peace now, can't he?" Arthur admired his mother's cooking so much that he was inspired to bake the scones he dearly loved from his childhood. Just like his mother, he wanted to be able to cook and provide for his family.
It was at age ten that he made up his mind to bake a two-layered cake for his mother's birthday. He had been reading up cookbooks and luxurious recipes, browsing through mouth-watering images of beautifully designed sweets. A week before his mother's birthday, a particular cake caught his eye. His mind was set up. This is the cake.
It looked simple enough. Just a smaller cake on another cake, right?
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If only it was that easy.
"Non non! You're doing it all wrong!" The French boy scolded. Arthur rolled his eyes. "Then what should I do, you git?" Francis examined the pile of dough in front of him. "First of all, are you sure you're not baking cookies?" "What do you mean- oh! Blimey, I've gotten the wrong recipe out." The Brit smacked himself on the side of the face. It was Francis' turn to roll his eyes. "I knew there was something wrong." Arthur was about to throw away the cookie dough when Francis snatched the bowl out of his hands. "Don't waste this, I'll take it and bake cookies later." Arthur nodded, inwardly smiling. There's no way I can fail now. Francis' family is full of professional bakers after all. Who knew things could go so wrong.
