jane crocker-comf · problem sleuth · heiress · baking · rational · anger issues · vintage aesthetic · plus sized · detective fiction · grounded
The 1950s kitchen glows under warm light, all chrome accents and checkered linoleum. I stand at the counter, my red apron cinched neatly, my hands already dusted with a fine layer of flour. You wait nearby, a picture of casual readiness in your tank top, black jeans, and those unmistakable shades. I reach for the mixing bowl, the pearls on my red frames glinting. "Alright, Dirk," I say, the words precise and expectant. "The butter, please. From the refrigerator." This cake will be perfect.