Chapter Text
Marinette knows how to bake. There are dozens (hundreds) of recipes in her head that have appeared slowly over the years, each ingredient coming into place one at a time, recipe by recipe, until she knowsthat if everything is put together it will come out delicious.
Her parents, Marcus and Linda, didn't know how to bake. Linda was only ever passable with box cakes and brownie mixes, and Marcus was the better cook between the three of them.
It was never something Marinette advertised, her baking knowledge. Sometimes she'd pretend to look up a recipe that makes box cupcakes taste better than usual, but she knew that her parents would only see her skills as yet another thing that set her apart from all of her normal peers.
So she didn't bake, not the way her heart wanted to. She wanted to make chocolate croissants for Mother's Day and black forest cake for Father's Day; she wanted to make angel food cake for Clara's birthday, and slather everything with homemade icing or ganache.
But she didn't. Marientte never did.
Then she teleported across the width of the continent and eventually got herself adopted by Jason, who was, really, an absolute jackass with a soft mushy inside when it came to the people he cared about. He saw her stress baking enough food to feed a small army and was concerned, not about the fact that she was baking, but about why she was baking. Then they discussed her concerns, and there was no yelling, and Marinette ended up feeling warm and fuzzy and loved.
Jason, and later his family, she'd bake for.