May 1
Alright give more lifeblood to Baker since it is so tasty to her :3
....Also now that I think about it, does Baker sells foods that have (a bit) of lifeblood in it?
not for very long
seen from Australia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from China
seen from Russia
Alright give more lifeblood to Baker since it is so tasty to her :3
....Also now that I think about it, does Baker sells foods that have (a bit) of lifeblood in it?
not for very long
chud ultimate baker oc.. i wanna kill huiim
fresh bread and slow love - logan howlett
ᯓ pairing logan howlett x oc!baker!melody
ᯓ summary cheerful baker melody keeps showing up at grumpy lumberjack logan’s porch with fresh bread, slowly chipping away at his rough edges. over a few weeks—and with the help of her meddling cat, cinnamon—neighborly visits turn into shared meals, patched-up scrapes, and finally, a stormy night that ends in a kiss neither of them saw coming.
ᯓ genre slow-burn romance • grumpy x sunshine • neighbors-to-lovers • cozy rural slice-of-life
ᯓ warning mild injury (scraped knee, light blood mention) • light language (grumpy Logan bluntness) • mild suggestive tension (kissing)
✦•················•✦•················•✦•················•✦•················•✦
Week One – Soft Cookies Meets Brick Wall
The first time Melody tried talking to Logan Howlett, she got exactly two syllables out of him.
“Morning,” she’d chirped, stepping into his clearing with a basket of fresh baked cookies.
She’d debated the whole walk over whether to knock on his door or just leave it on the porch. In the end, she decided she’d rather at least try to meet the man whose cottage she could see smoke curling from most mornings. Neighbors ought to know each other, right? Even if one of them had a reputation for being as warm as an icicle.
He was seated on his porch step, sharpening an axe with slow, deliberate motions. The steel rasped against the stone with a sound that was both soothing and a little intimidating. He didn’t look up at her approach.
Still, she smiled, because that’s just who she was. “Morning.”
A grunt. Possibly a greeting. Possibly indigestion. Hard to tell.
“I, um, baked too much,” she continued, stepping closer and holding out the basket like a peace offering. “Thought maybe you could use some fresh cookies. It’s chocolate chips. I threw in some snickerdoodle as well.”
Finally, his eyes lifted—sharp, amber-brown, like they could size her up in a single glance and file her away under annoyingly cheerful.
“Don’t need charity,” he said, though his gaze kept flicking to the basket.
Melody smiled brighter. “Good thing it’s not charity, then. Consider it… neighborly goodwill. Or a bribe, so you don’t chop down the pretty maple by the bend in the path.”
One brow lifted, but his expression stayed gruff. He reached for the wrapped up cookies like it was some kind of reluctant surrender.
“See? You can say it,” she teased when he muttered a quick “Thanks.”
A corner of his mouth twitched—just enough that she suspected he might be fighting a smile.
She walked away feeling oddly victorious, the sound of his axe resuming behind her.
⸻
Week Two – Sandwiches and Stubbornness
A week later, Melody found herself in a pickle. Or more specifically, in a kitchen without running water or lights. Her plumbing had been finicky for months, but this time the pump had given out entirely—and the wiring above her pantry had decided to join in, plunging her into both darkness and mild panic.
She could’ve called someone from town. She almost did. But when she pictured the gruff neighbor who worked with his hands and clearly knew his way around tools… well, she figured it was worth asking.
The hike over to his place felt longer this time. She kept rehearsing the words in her head, trying not to sound too helpless, her cat Cinnamon trotted behind her.
He was outside again, stacking wood like the logs weighed nothing. Cinnamon hoped on the step next to him at the same time Melody cleared her throat.
“Uh, Logan?”
He looked at her like she’d just told him she needed a kidney.
“My plumbing’s acting up. And the lights. I’m kind of… not great with either of those things. You think you could help?”
For a long moment, she thought he might just grunt and turn away again. But then he wiped his hands on his flannel, muttered something that sounded like “Get my tools,” and followed her back.
It took him less than an hour to fix both problems. She suspected he could’ve done it in half the time, but he worked methodically, like he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how capable he really was.
When he finished, she set down a plate on her kitchen table.
“What’s that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes like she might be trying to slip poison into his diet.
“A thank-you sandwich. My own bread, lettuce from the garden, tomatoes too. The meat’s from Mr. Gordon shop in town—fresh this morning.”
He eyed it, then her, then took a bite without another word. Melody, however, was determined.
“Well? What do you think?”
He chewed, swallowed, and said, “It’s fine.”
She gasped like he’d committed a crime. “Fine? That’s all I get? Fine?”
His mouth quirked. “Bread’s good.”
Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I’ll take it. And since you liked it so much…” She pushed three wrapped up sandwiches toward him. “For later.”
This time, he didn’t refuse. Just picked it up and grunted. Melody decided that was his way of saying I’ll be back.
⸻
Week Three – More Cookies, Cuts, and Closer Than Before
Weeks passed. She didn’t see him—at all. His porch was empty, his cabin windows dark. She told herself it wasn’t her business, but she still glanced at his clearing every time she went into town. She caught herself wondering if he’d liked the bread. Or the sandwich.
Then one breezy afternoon, she spotted smoke from his chimney. Relief bloomed in her chest. She packed a basket—cookies and a loaf of Sourdough bread—loaded it into her arms, and started down the path.
Her cat, Whiskers, decided to follow. He darted around her legs halfway there, and in trying not to step on him, Melody caught her toe on a root and went sprawling.
The basket hit the ground with a muffled thump. She winced, brushing dirt off her dress. A sting on her knee told her she’d scraped it, but she wasn’t about to limp home. She gathered the basket again, determined.
Logan was already on the porch when she arrived. He didn’t look surprised to see her—just suspicious.
“You’re bleeding.”
Melody blinked, wondering how he knew before looking up at her. “It’s just a scratch—”
Before she could protest, he was down the steps, taking the basket from her and setting it aside. His hands were warm and steady as he crouched to examine her knee.
“Dumb thing to do, walk all the way out here not watching where you’re going,” he muttered, cleaning the scrape with a cloth from his back pocket. His voice was sharp, but his touch was careful.
“I had cookies,” she said, as if that explained everything.
His mouth twitched like it wanted to smile, but he shook his head. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
She tilted her head. “The good kind?”
He didn’t answer, just bandaged her knee and stood. But as he handed back the basket, his fingers lingered on hers for half a second longer than necessary.
And Melody—bright as morning light—was pretty sure the grumpy lumberjack was starting to warm.
⸻
Week Four – Storms, Confessions, and Something That Stuck
The next week, the mountains decided to test everyone’s patience.
Rain slammed against Melody’s windows in sheets, and the wind rattled the shutters like it was trying to pry them loose. She’d been halfway through kneading dough when the lights flickered, then died completely. Normally, she’d just light a few candles and wait it out, but with the storm howling through the pines and no sign of it letting up, she couldn’t quite settle.
A knock came at her door—firm, quick, unmistakably Logan.
When she opened it, he was standing there soaked from the shoulders down, rain dripping from his hair onto his flannel.
“You’re not staying here by yourself in this,” he said without preamble.
She crossed her arms, biting back a smile. “And here I thought you were coming for another sandwich.”
He gave her a look that could fell a tree. “Get your coat. And the cat.”
“Cinnamon?” she asked, blinking.
“Yeah. I know you’re not leaving him here.”
Her heart did a tiny flip at that, though she didn’t let it show. She scooped Cinnamon into her arms, grabbed two wrapped loafs—because of course—and pulled on her coat. Logan didn’t comment on the bread, just took the carrier from her without a word.
They trudged the muddy path to his cabin, the storm roaring around them. When she slipped once, his hand shot out, gripping her elbow like a steel clamp until she steadied. He didn’t let go right away.
Inside, his cabin was warmer than she’d expected—fire crackling, the scent of cedar thick in the air. Cinnamon had jumped down immediately, tail high as he explored like he owned the place.
“You could’ve just let me ride it out at home, you know,” she said, settling into the couch while Cinnamon leapt up beside her.
“You’d probably trip over your own cat and crack your head open,” he replied bluntly, tossing another log on the fire. “At least here I can keep an eye on you.”
Her heart did another stupid little flip at keep an eye on you.
Hours passed in the kind of comfortable silence she hadn’t thought possible with him. He sat in his armchair, whittling something out of a block of wood. She sat on the couch, legs tucked under her, sipping tea he’d made without asking her how she liked it—because somehow, he’d gotten it exactly right. Cinnamon curled up between them on the rug, near the fire, occasionally flicking his tail toward Logan’s boot like he’d claimed both humans.
When the storm finally quieted, she stood to leave, but he was already at the door.
“Don’t,” he said quietly, almost like it was hard for him to say. “Stay.”
She hesitated, searching his face. He wasn’t smiling, wasn’t soft—not exactly—but there was something different in his eyes. A question without words.
“You’re bossy,” she teased gently.
“Yeah. And you talk too much,” he shot back.
Somehow, it didn’t sting—it felt like his version of fondness.
She stepped closer, the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, until they were standing almost toe to toe. Whiskers hopped onto the arm of the couch, meowing at Logan like he was impatient for something to happen. Logan’s eyes dropped to her mouth, and that was all the warning she got before his hand came up to the side of her face, warm and steady, and he kissed her—firm, a little rough, but not unkind.
When he pulled back, she was smiling. “Guess that means you liked the bread.”
His mouth twitched. “I like the baker. The cat’s… okay.”
Cinnamon purred like he’d just been promoted.
MDNI!!
Just imagine a world where you don't belong and to get out, you need to collect signatures, so you become a desperate little thing.
And you literally fall to your knees before a kind commoner who works in a bakery, he is the protagonist. Someone who is gentle, sweet and loved by all.
You needed to start over, after so many attempts, you were tired. And all you wanted was home. You, with glassy eyes, eyebrows almost joined and a book on your chest.
"Please, I'm begging you, just sign my book. Yes?".
"oh lord..".
A small murmur escaped his lips as he looked around, a deep red appearing on his cheeks as a new sensation took hold of him. He looked at you for a few moments in silence, his shy gaze turned into a smile and fangs appeared. Then, with his free hand, he took your cheeks and squeezed them.
"Say it one more time and maybe I'll do it".
This man is a damned, two-faced bastard. You gave power to someone you shouldn't have.
Hoiioo!! I'm back! this time with a redrawing/redesign of my main oc/Sona Nerium nightshade.
and there's technically but not really two drawings
so if you don't want to read all of Nerium's lore just scroll down so you can see the second drawing :3
!!WARNING YAPPING AHEAD!! <3
This is Nerium Nightshade 27 she/they Her birthday is September 28th she's a Libra
She's the middle sibling of Nino and Nepta.
She is an Aroace lesbian and she's a Baker she loves baking and she loves her family.
her favorite color is yellow and her favorite food is strawberry and she only walks on her toes.
she works for Actaea's Bakery as the baker and Daffodil candy store as the cashier
She also adopted twins named Aster and Luna.
And that's about it for her lore so now on to the technically second drawing
And here's the second drawing it's pretty much just every version of Nerium that I could fit in one drawing.
Nerium on the right is her in her Baker outfit.
The Nerium on the top right is her as a slugcat from rainworld AKA spearcat.
The Nerium on the left is her as the pokemon Skitty obviously I changed some things about Skitty too much Nerium more.
And last but at least The Nerium on the bottom left is her as in lps specifically a bon bon based on the lps 606.
And here's a picture of her she's my favorite lps which is why I based Nerium as an lps on her
If I was in lps YouTuber she would have been my mascot.
And the lesbian flag in the drawing is color picked from Nerium herself because I thought that'd be cute <3
And sorry for pony Nerium erasure I couldn't fit her in the picture and that's about it I hope you enjoyed <3
cookin by tha book!!!
Professor Trein: What is the meaning of this?
Yuu: *is on a date with the baker boy*
Yuu: oh shit-
Baker boy: Grandpa! Good to see you!
Yuu: oh no...
Professor Trein: Hello little one, can you tell your gran what you're doing here?
Baker boy: I'm on a date gran- Right! Gran, this is my partner, Yuu!
Yuu: H- Hi... wh- what a coincident to see you professor...
Baker boy: oh right! You said you attend NRC! Then gran must know you, hehe. I forgot, sorry Yuu
Yuu: aw come on, I could never be mad at you.
Professor Trein: Laddie... can you tell me how did you meet my student? Especialy this one...
Laddie, the baker boy: Sure!
<3
Laddie: and then we started seeing each other more often ^-^
Yuu: hehe... suprise professor
Professor Trein: ...is your father around?
Laddie: Pops? He's at the bakery right now and mom is back at home with the others. Why?
Professor Trein: I wanted to try out his newest goods, and I have somethings to talk about with him
Laddie: oh, okay! Then I'll see you at the bakery!
Professor Trein: *leaves them*
Laddie: Gran is one of the nicest people I know
Yuu: Yeah, he's really nice. Now I know that it runs in your family to be so nice
Laddie: ///^///
Laddie: sthaaph you're making me blush!! *hides his face*
Professor Trein: Did you know about it?
His son: I mean, Laddie can't stop talking about them, so yes.
Professor Trein: ...
His son: come on father. He seems so happy with them. You don't want ro break your grandson's heart, do you?
Professor Trein: no...
His son: alright then. His mother is already planning their wedding, so no matter what you say, my wife and I still aprove of them
Professor Trein: ...
Mogens from Klaus and my OC/self ship insert thingy. I grabbed that stupid picture of him and made him mine because why not? <3
She opens a bakery near the shore for both Krums and Ellingboes.
Side note and it's random but I feel like a lot of my characters that are mildly to majorly a self insert tend to be bakers. I really love to bake, so I feel like it reflects how if the money wouldn't be so difficult, I'd open a bakery <3