Pudd! Human who got turned into living stim slime, spends most of their time napping on the floor somewhere. Got forcibly equipped with a wet floor sign after other people took one too many spills
Remus put their bakery purchases in the fridge, ready for after dinner. Sirius had complained, of course, and Remus had to point out that he’d taken so long to decide that it was now so late that he would spoil his dinner and as Remus was putting some effort into tonight’s meal, he refused to let it go to waste.
He was making a roast dinner because Sirius had begged him for Yorkshire puddings. Everything was ready. Just the Yorkshires to go. He’d turned the oven high and put in the muffin tray with the oil.
Soon, it was time to put the batter into the hot oil. He always hated this bit as it tended to hiss and spit. Once he’d gotten the tray back into the oven, all that was left was to wait.
Sirius had come in and decided his way of being helpful was to tell Remus every couple of minutes.
“They’re not rising. — Remus, they’re still not rising. —Remus, they’re not rising.” Remus lost count of how many times Sirius complained.
“Just have a little faith, sweetheart. They always go in the end.” He gave Sirius a job to do so he wouldn’t keep pestering. “Could you finish off the gravy, please?” Sirius nodded and busied himself with the kettle.
By the time that was done, the puddings had indeed risen.
“Wow, Remus. I think these are your best yet.” Sirius said. He peered through the glass oven door at the gigantic Yorkshire puddings. A huge grin spread across his face.