#I hope whoever reads this fic will enjoy this as much as I enjoy brainrotting about the fic sdlgsdfklhj

[quills-house-of-fiction]

The Shy, the Wicked, and the Cynical - Chapter 1

Summary

A former do-gooder pirate, Shy Kelsey de Bouff now works for the Armada underneath Deacon due to circumstances beyond her control. But after failing to complete her previous mission, Kelsey volunteers a target to make up for it: former friend and rising Witchdoctor, Wicked Saffron Bosworth. However, the stakes are much higher than she realizes, and she must work with a team of unusual clockworks in order to set the Spiral right. Or as right as it can be, anyway.

The satchel of gold fell lazily onto the ship vendor’s outstretched hand. He opened it greedily and laid the contents out on his hand. Several moments passed. Gold clinked against one another. He stopped and looked up at Kelsey, beaming from ear to ear.

“All accounted for,” he chirped. “Might I ask what you’re buying this for? I’ve seen you around plenty of times on different ships.”

Kelsey swore in her mind. She had forgotten her mask today, otherwise she would have dodged the question entirely. She couldn’t afford to waste time here. She glared at him as she offered her answer, not wanting him to press further. “My old one is in repair.”

He looked at her incredulously, but thankfully, he got the message. Kelsey didn’t care what he thought. He held the bottle out to her. She took it a little too quickly, unbottling the ship as soon as it touched her hand. She strode towards it quickly. She shouldn’t waste any more time on Cooper’s Roost docks.

The galleon itself was of Bison origin, something she wasn’t all that comfortable with for cultural reasons. She didn’t bother to name it. The ship would serve its purpose of getting around discreetly well. It wouldn’t be out of place for Cool Ranch, nor would it have a flag to identify her with. She couldn’t afford to have her usual markers on display either. Kelsey had already purchased the necessary equipment should broadside combat become an issue. Good enough.

The small Armada crew she had been allotted for this mission stood at the edge of the docks away from most of the ship vendors. She nodded towards them and they approached. They were an odd sort even for the Armada’s branding, which is why they had been assigned to her. They consisted of four soldiers of different designations: Parallax, a modified Battle Angel serving as a diplomat; Paradox, a lively and jovial clockwork jester with a colorful face that moves; and finally, Custos Decimus and Custos Sentus, an Armada Dragoon and an Armada Marine respectively. Both were considered defective. Custos Decimus’s programming was never quite right, and he was far too soft-hearted to enter combat as a regular Dragoon. Custos Sentus, on the other hand, had gained a disobedient streak after an incident during the arrest of another Witchdoctor left him with full sentience. If Kelsey was honest, he was the most aggravating of the crew, even with Paradox’s backhanded nature taken into account. Surprisingly, it had been Deacon who vouched for both of them and recommended that they be assigned to Kelsey.

Parallax, her first mate and trusted confidant, approached. She tapped her finger on her arm impatiently. “Awaiting your orders, Captain. Are you ready to depart?”

Kelsey nodded. Parallax was proactive-minded, which was a quality that Kelsey didn’t mind about her. As a whole, Kelsey felt an inexplicable kinship to her new crew, for perhaps she was the most different of them all. “Help me prepare and we’ll be off.”

Within the hour and the help of Kelsey’s crew, they set sail. Kelsey steered clear of the various factions roaming Cooper’s Roost Skyway and went for the pink wind-lane that she knew encircled the outer edges of Cool Ranch. They were considered neutral territory, and thus safe for her to leave the helm alone if she needed to. The winds would carry the ship if such a thing occurred.

Two days passed before Kelsey finally sailed into Tumbleweed Skyway. She had passed navigation and sailing duties onto Parallax while she rested uncomfortably over those cold nights. She had Decimus and Sentus–her nicknames for the pair–take inventory of the ship in the meantime. Paradox stood in the crow’s nest of the ship for the majority of the ride, keeping eyes on the skyways around them. Kelsey stood at the helm again, guiding the ship beyond the borders of Big Sky and into Tumbleweed.

Parallax approached from the deck. “Captain,” she said quietly as she leaned down. “We are almost at your destination. Are you sure what you are doing here is worth it?”

Kelsey nodded. “Yes, it is.” She paused. “Just before we dock at Tumbleweed, gather everyone else and take them below deck. You all are to stay down there until we set sail again. It is critical that my contact does not know that I am working with the Armada.”

Parallax bowed slightly. “As you wish, Captain.” She strode off to pass her instructions to the other crew members on deck.

Kelsey swore she could hear a hint of exasperation in Parallax’s voice, but she wouldn’t complain. Parallax wasn’t too keen on backwater places like Cool Ranch. After all, she had been working in the courts of other nobility alongside her sister, Paradox, prior to their assignment under Kelsey. But that did not–should not–matter here. Kelsey would be the one doing the information gathering. She vitally needed their skills in combat.

If the rumors Kelsey had heard were true, her target would be too difficult to capture on her own.

Kelsey lowered the board to the dock just as the sun was setting over Cool Ranch. She carefully stepped down, trying not to make note of the long way down in her periphery should she miss a step. Despite sailing for years, she didn’t think she could ever get over that intrusive fear of falling into the skyway. When she touched the docks of Tumbleweed, she almost wanted to kiss them.

She left her mask and cane behind this time. She needed to pass as her old self as much as she could. But each ever-so-slight limp towards Tumbleweed proper grew to be a huge ache in her half-clockwork heart. She climbed up the ramp, which she heard had been renovated courtesy of her contact, and finally set foot into Tumbleweed. Just to the left of the entrance was the Desert Rose Tavern. She made for it.

The tavern smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg. It was warm and lively today, if not a little busy. A pianist sat at the upright piano in the corner. Her hands moved elegantly from key to key as she played upbeat ragtime music. Kelsey found her fingers tapping along to it unconsciously. People from all walks occupied the tables, but Kelsey found an open spot at the bar.

Kodak the Barkeep–or better known to her as Cynical Jonah Landon–was a flurry of movement behind the bar. Patrons signed to him their orders and he made them with few questions.

She sat down and waited for him to finish with another customer. She was eager to get out of the dust storm that was Cool Ranch. Her heart pounded in her ears. Every thought in her mind shouted at her to turn around and leave the bar, to return to her ship and set sail again. She shouldn’t get Jonah involved, she shouldn’t–

Before she could turn around and leave, his green eyes met with her hazel ones. Jonah smiled and gestured for her to wait one moment. Kelsey nodded and compiled. Guess I’m staying put after all. He placed a cocktail for another customer at their spot at the bar, then approached Kelsey.

His hands became water as he signed to her. “Hey Kelsey!” His smile widened.

Kelsey’s voice shut off as hers found the same flow. She wanted to retch at how fake it must have seemed, but she didn’t. “Jonah! Long time no see!”

“How have you been? Where have you been? What can I get you?”

“A bottle of Yum, please. I’ve been fine,” she lied. “I’ve been sailing around, keeping up with the same old adventures we used to have.”

Jonah tilted his head at her. She assumed that it was the fact that she was not, in fact, fine. Nor was she having the adventures she said she was. She wanted to tell him everything that happened to her over the past five years, but her mission depended on keeping that critical information from him. He would not be pleased to find out who exactly her target was, but she wanted to ease him into that realization.

Kelsey had always been a terrible liar, even in her childhood. And Jonah’s uncanny ability to read facial expressions had been mastered at a young age due to his profound deafness that occurred in the middle of his childhood.

Thankfully, he didn’t press any further and went to the back. Kelsey let out a sigh she’d been holding and stiffened when she heard him come back. He uncorked the bottle for her and slid it over the countertop. She caught it in her organic hand. Kelsey took a sip of it and set it gently on the table. She lifted her hands to sign again.

“Do you know where Saffron is?”

Jonah’s face fell. “Always so business-minded, Kel. Why do you want to know?” He crossed his arms and glowered at her.

Kelsey paused. “To make amends,” she signed back. But that wasn’t the truth, not even close. She wasn’t sure how much he knew, but Kelsey wanted to make Saffron pay for the suffering she inflicted on her all those years ago. Maybe Jonah could read that on her face. But it didn’t matter to her. “I miss her a lot.” The signs felt vile on her hands and face, but she tried to keep face as best as she could. Her expression fell flat.

Jonah pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Regardless of whatever he found in her expression, he began signing again. “There were rumors of her being in Haunted Skyway. I don’t know why in the Spiral she would want to go there. It’s a mad, mad place.”

Kelsey’s eyebrow raised. What Jonah said about the skyway itself was indeed true. Undead plagued the skyway like nobody’s business. Between the undead pirates and the sky snakes made of bones, venturing in there was a madman’s errand. But if there was anything Saffron liked, it was spooky aesthetics and anything Hoodoo-related she could get her hands on. The skyway was filled with bad mojo according to Old Scratch, but it would be a perfect draw for Saffron. It was too early to tell for sure, but that would be the place to start.

She went to sign again, but found that Jonah’s attention had been pulled away by another patron flapping their hand in his periphery. Kelsey took this brief moment of reprieve to sip from her bottle of Yum and let it soothe her soul. The body of it was pleasantly heavy on her tongue, with a fruity and floral flavor that almost reminded her of lavender. It was a comfort she needed given the arduous task ahead of her. She would have to thank Captain Gunn’s corpse later for the bastard’s ingenious idea to bottle it.

Jonah returned. “Anyway, yeah. Haunted Skyway. People have told me she’s hanging around her. Some brave folks are saying she was last spotted in Miranda.”

Her eyes widened. “Miranda?!”

He nodded. “I don’t know why, nothing good came of that place.”

She agreed. It was where they had taken down Captain Blood, but the sheer sight of that ghost town left lasting memories on herself and Jonah. The undeath and trauma alone had been suffocating. Saffron, on the other hand, was eager to explore the town despite the horrible tragedy that occurred there years prior to their intervention. Jonah and Kelsey looked at her like she was crazy then. Saffron, of course, didn't care.

“If I had to guess, she found something else magical about that town.” Jonah rolled his eyes. “You’d best stay out of that skyway, Kel. Find a way for her to come to you. Talk then.”

Kelsey wanted to retort that she didn’t have time to find an artifact that Saffron would like, but she kept her hands and face together on that one.

As she raised her hands to sign, Jonah had once again been pulled away by other customers. Kelsey opted to leave him be. She had finished her first bottle of Yum and found herself craving a second. Another bartender stepped out from the back and got to work, Kelsey asked them for another bottle. She slid the coins just as they had slid the bottle to her.

It would be a long while before Kelsey would ever be able to have an evening like this. She decided she would make the most of it. The exhaustion from all the sailing she had done these past few weeks was wearing on her. She was eager to spend the night on dry land for once. Tonight, she decided, her crew could wait. She could spare a little time to rest before the arduous task ahead of her.

Kelsey was halfway through her third bottle of Yum when Jonah appeared and tapped her shoulder, startling her from her thoughts. She glanced at the lit candle he had in one of his hands and raised her brow. He motioned for her to follow him, and they went over to one of the secluded tables underneath the second floor. He set the candle in the middle of the table. It illuminated the space between them and not much else.

“I’m on break,” he signed. “Tell me what’s really going on. I know you wouldn’t look for Saffron just for that, Kel.” He scowled at her. “There’s more to this.”

Kelsey sighed. So he had spotted her lie after all. She pursed her lip, trying to put her thoughts together into an acceptable explanation. She chewed on her lip, glancing at the table, the floor and anything that wasn’t Jonah. But in her peripheral vision, she got the impression he was still scowling at her. Her expression slipped somewhere between sorrowful and earnest, perhaps both.

“Can you promise you won’t be angry with me?”

Jonah raised a brow. “I can’t. But if it’s why I think you’ve been missing for all these years, then…”

Her face fell. “I’ve been forced to work with the Armada. To make a long story short, they saved my life, and as a result I have a debt to pay to them.”

“So the rumors were true. About you working with them.”

She nodded slowly. She glanced away, only turning back as he signed.

Jonah pinched the bridge of his nose. “And even with what they did to my parents, you’re still just going to help them anyway?”

“I’m at their gunpoint, Jonah. I can’t do much else. Hell, I’m lucky to be out here by myself right now.”

He let out a long sigh. “Okay, fine. So how does Saffron play into this? Why do you need her?”

Kelsey’s lips stretched into a frown. She explained her side of the story: that the Supreme Commander believed that she would also be a threat to his operations if she wasn’t dealt with right away. So as punishment for her previous failure, she was sent to capture Saffron, alive ideally. At least, that was partially true. That was all he needed to know.

In reality, Kelsey was the one who volunteered Saffron as a target. She was still angry with Saffron for setting her up all those years ago, only to take the fall for Saffron’s smuggling operations. She had no qualms about carrying out this mission, even after the trio worked together for Marco Pollo’s Map post-Erebus breakout. But those days were long gone, and any truce they had was dust in Cool Ranch’s winds. Jonah retired with some of Pollo’s gold to take over the Desert Rose, and Saffron had gone her own way altogether.

“I haven’t been told good things about Saffron, either. I heard she was amassing an undead crew. An army, some called it.”

Kelsey’s eyes widened. “Why?” Her expression shifted into confusion and concern.

Jonah shook his head slowly and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, Kel. But even if it’s for the Armada, you still have the best chance of stopping whatever scheme she’s got going on. She’s going on a dark path that’s only getting darker, and I wouldn’t be enough to save her anyhow.”

“Jonah…” she sighed. Her shoulders slumped and she leaned against the table. “You know, I really did try to continue our work after Cool Ranch. But at Knossos…” she paused as she manually signed the name of the island. “Between the Minotaur’s sons and the Armada ambushing us there, I didn't have a choice. The only way I was going to leave there alive was with them.”

“Kel, you don’t need to explain yourself. I trust your judgement in whatever it is that you’re doing.” He lowered his head and continued signing. “But please, make sure you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

Kelsey furrowed her brow. She really couldn’t discern what was what anymore.

Jonah stood up from the table and took the candle with him. He extinguished it with a quick breath. Kelsey followed quickly and grabbed his hand.

“Can I stay overnight in one of your rooms?”

Jonah nodded. He retreated to the back of the bar once more. Kelsey fished out a pouch of gold from an interior pocket and counted out the gold for one and a half night’s stay. When Jonah returned with the keys, Kelsey handed it to him. He counted quickly, then looked at her confused.

“Please, keep it. You need it more than I do.”

“Thank you,” he signed, the back of his flat hand extending towards her, and led her upstairs to a door on the side of the floor.

The door opened up into a mildly dusty hallway, with many more doors lining it. He led her to one at the end of the hallway on the back wall and gave her the keys.

“Here you go. Best room on the block. Return the keys to the barkeep in the morning.” He turned and walked away, but stopped and turned back to her. “And Kel, please come back sometime. Knowing you, you’re probably gonna set off at sunrise. Just…tell me what happens.”

Kelsey half-smiled and chuckled to herself. “You got me. I will though.” Whether it was a half-truth or an outright lie, Kelsey couldn’t tell. After everything that would happen, there was some part of her that believed that Jonah would hate her guts just as much as Kelsey hated Saffron’s.

Jonah left her to the comfort and privacy of the guest room, which was rather quaint. She sighed and undressed into her undergarments. The room got chillier as she did so, making the bed all the more inviting. She decided her crew could wait for a little bit. She wanted to sleep on dry land just this once, she got the feeling that she wouldn’t have this luxury for a long, long while.

She plopped on the bed and got to work unstrapping her prostheses for her left arm and left leg. As she gently pulled off the arm, she admired the intricate details required to craft such a sensitive thing. The design was partially her own, perfected by the Armada’s–no, Kane’s–intervention. She set her metal limb aside and looked at the stump that was the upper half of her forearm. The illusion of connectivity she had shattered, and she waved it about uselessly, if only for her amusement and no one else’s. She did the same to her leg, stripping it down to the barest half-limb. She ran her hand over the stump. Despite it being removed years ago by some of Valencia’s finest surgeons, she couldn’t ever not be amazed by it.

Kelsey got comfortable underneath the bed sheets and let her mind wander. First about Saffron, then Jonah, and where she would be after all of this. Would she even be the same person? A vague unsettling feeling crept into her stomach. It was too early to make any sort of prediction. But with the news that Saffron was amassing an undead crew, she found it harder to get comfortable. What in the bloody biscuits of Marleybone could she possibly be doing this for?

It didn’t take long before the desire to rest overtook her.

When the sun shone warm beams of light through her window, Kelsey stirred. She awoke from a deep and comfortable sleep and sat up in her bed. She rubbed the sleep away from her eyes and mentally planned out her day.

She would leave the inn and set sail alongside her crew for the Haunted Skyway within the hour. She was not thrilled to be returning there, as she was certain that the Armada’s intervention had awakened Captain Blood and put the skyway in the state that it was. She wasn’t eager to return to Miranda either, as after the game between Death and Captain Blood, she was sure it would be a ghost town in the truest sense of the phrase. Too quiet for comfort. Even subtle movements wouldn’t go unnoticed.

And it was also in the Haunted Skyway where she destroyed Deacon. She wasn’t sure if he had forgiven her for that one, or if he ever would. She had an inexplicable sense of sympathy for him, though she would never admit that to her friends or either of her crews.

But most of all, it was also where she’d find one of her former best friends gathering an army of undead pirates for Saint-Fido-knows-what purpose. The threat of the Armada aside, none of this situation had good prospects for the rest of the Spiral.

Kelsey wasted no time getting ready and leaving the Desert Rose Inn. The air still felt cool and dry, making it a pleasant time to leave. She hurried past the folks in the early morning, barely slapping the room key on the counter for the bartender to take back. She jogged out of the doors into Tumbleweed, and down the rail to the docks.

The board was already waiting for her when she reached the docks. She carefully climbed it, trying to avert her gaze from the skyway below. She didn’t have time for those intrusive thoughts to play now. When she was fully boarded, Kelsey caught sight of a certain clockwork Marine leaning nonchalantly against one of the masts.

“It is about time you showed up,” Custos Sentus said, his hollow eyes meeting hers.

Kelsey folded her arms. Her brows furrowed. “I thought my instructions to stay below decks until I returned were abundantly clear, Sentus.”

“It was too warm.”

Her eye twitched. “I don’t have time for this today,” she groaned. She glanced over to the Captain’s Quarters, where Parallax waited, peering through the circular window in the door. Kelsey motioned for her to come out.

She must have spied the concerned look on Kelsey’s face as she hurried over to her position. “Is everything alright, Captain?”

She shook her head. “Not in the slightest. Gather the rest of the crew and prepare to set sail. We’re going to Haunted Skyway.”

[deepspacedukat]

The Baker's Baker - Part One

So, this is the fic I made the poll about. 75% of you said you were at least open to other David Birney characters depending on the character, so here it is. I honestly have no excuse. David Birney played a hot character in "Murder, She Wrote" and I have caught the brainrot. Spoilers for S10E3 "The Legacy of Borbey House." I know I changed part of the story, but it doesn't stray too far from the original, hence the spoiler warning. I'm not tagging anyone for this fic, because, even though some Letant Enjoyers might like this, I don't think anyone came to my blog for MSW fanfiction lol. To those who choose to give this little brainworm a read, I hope you enjoy.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Lawrence Baker (MSW) x Reader

[A/N: Future chapters will contain smut/smut adjacent content, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Mild rudeness, flirtation, mention of a missing person per the episode plot, vampire rumors, utilizing cupcakes for flirtation, readers owns and works in a bakery, reader has history with Borbey House but that'll be expounded upon in a later chapter.

~*~

Cabot Cove was rife with rumors surrounding the property across the street from my front door. Borbey House had stood empty for a year and a half - some residents wondered if anyone would ever buy the place until a couple of weeks ago. I only caught a glimpse of my new neighbor as I was getting home one night. Dark hair, a darker suit, and the jaunty strut of a man who was utterly confident in himself - whoever he was, the new owner of the Borbey Estate was much flashier than the usual Cabot Cove crowd.

I only saw him once, though, along with a couple of curtain twitches from one of the upper windows. Any other time a person emerged from the house, it was without fail a harsh looking man with a square jaw. He and his employer both seemed rather ominous to anyone who believed in superstition, and the Borbey legacy was already saturated with those. All the mysterious deaths years ago...it was a wonder that anyone was interested in buying the place when it went on the market.

Legend had it that the original owner, William Borbey, had been a vampire, and given the new owner's tendency to avoid going out in the daylight coupled with how quickly gossip of any sort traveled through Cabot Cove, rumors about his condition spread rather rapidly. I couldn't really blame the man for not wanting to immerse himself in the insanity that was a small town like this. I had hoped I'd catch another glimpse of him eventually, but after that first sighting, all I saw was his - was the man with a square jaw a butler or a chauffeur? Both, perhaps?

This morning, however, my luck changed - for better or worse, I couldn't definitively say. It wasn't often that our postman switched mail around, but today I'd opened my mailbox to find a letter addressed to one 'Mr. Lawrence Baker.' Glancing at the address confirmed my suspicions: this belonged across the street.

With barely a moment's thought, I hurried back into my house and dropped off my own mail, scooping up a box of assorted cookies I'd packaged in advance for the bakery in the process. There were plenty more where that came from, so I figured it couldn't hurt to give Cabot Cove's newest resident a warm welcome.

Straightening myself up a bit, I grabbed the misdelivered letter and the box of cookies and walked across the street. Before I even got the chance to knock on the door, however, it was practically flung open. Mr. Baker's butler scowled silently, expectantly down at me with cold, hard eyes.

"Uh, hi! I–"

"Do you have an appointment?" His question was clipped and rough. Was that a German accent? Interesting.

"No, but–"

"Then begone." With that, the door was slammed in my face.

Oh, hell no. Tall and scary that man might be, but I wasn't about to just let someone treat me like that.

I was secretly quite proud of the firm, confident sound of my knuckles rapping on the aged wooden door. Once more, it was thrown open, but before Mr. Scary got the chance to do something more drastic than slamming the door in my face, I held up the letter so he could see the typeface on the envelope.

"This was delivered to me by mistake this morning. I was just coming over here to give it to its proper owner." After a tense moment of silence, the letter was snatched from my hand. "And these are from me. I run the bakery on Main Street and I wanted to officially welcome Mr. Baker to the neighborhood."

Shoving the box into the stunned butler's grasp, I turned on my heel and started back to my house, standing as straight as possible to cling to my remaining dignity. Well, that had been slightly more humiliating than I'd expected. So much for being neighborly–

"Excuse me, miss?" A smooth, sophisticated voice called out from behind me before I was more than a few feet down the front walkway. Looking back, I saw a familiar dark-haired figure stepping around the gruff-mannered butler to stand in the doorway. Red-lensed sunglasses rested atop the bridge of his nose, but it was still undeniably the same man I'd seen that first night. Lawrence Baker, in the flesh. Up close, he looked...well, extremely handsome. "I'm sorry for the rough reception. Peter is used to dealing with less pleasant visitors. I'm afraid most people don't like an outsider invading your peaceful community."

Taking a few small steps toward the door, I gave my elusive new neighbor a tentative smile and attempted to ignore the way his pale blue button-down shirt clung to his figure so perfectly.

"It's alright, but I promise not all of us are quite so prickly. I'm sorry if you've been on the receiving end of any sort of intolerance," I said, and he leaned jauntily on the door frame as a grin stretched his lips. The lines on either side of his mouth spoke of the many smiles he'd worn over the years. "Anyway, I should really let you get back to your day. I just wanted to officially welcome you to the neighborhood. If you need anything, I live just across the street."

"I'll be sure and keep that in mind, Miss...?"

I introduced myself, keeping a respectable distance between myself and the front door. The longer I looked at Mr. Baker, the more I wanted to do something ridiculous, like take up sketching just so I could capture the shape of his lips when he smiled.

"I couldn't help but hear what you said a moment ago. You run the local bakery?"

"Yes, I do. If there's something you'd like that I don't normally offer, I take custom orders." My brain went somewhere it definitely shouldn't have, and I fought to keep myself from blushing.

Instead, though, I had some restraint. Excusing myself, I retreated quickly back to my own home. I took a seat in the kitchen and glanced at the timer I'd set for the cake in the oven. There was still a while until I needed to check it.

I had no idea how long I'd been sitting at my kitchen table lost in thought when a knock sounded at the door, jolting me back to reality. A brief flash of fear zipped through me at the prospect of Mr. Baker or his butler - somehow the name 'Peter' didn't fully encompass that man's personality - coming to throw my cookies back in my face and threaten legal action if I ever set foot on their side of the street again.

"Why, you look as pale as a ghost, child!" Seth exclaimed when I opened the door. I'd almost forgotten that he and Jessica were coming over for lunch today. Inviting them in gratefully, I stole a quick glance across the street and was just in time to see a curtain twitch in one of the upper windows of the Borbey House.

There was nothing I could do but close the door as if to block out the storm that was my neighbor's red-tinted gaze.

"Are you alright?" Jessica's hand rested gently on my shoulder, and I gave her a grateful smile.

"Oh, yes! I'm fine. I just had a very odd encounter with the new owner of the Borbey place," I told her as we all made our way into the kitchen. A couple of hours passed, and with lunch consumed and my new cake recipe freshly sampled by the three of us, I'd heard several bits of gossip about Mr. Baker and his butler.

"You say he had red lenses in his glasses?" Seth asked as he cut himself another slice of cake. When I nodded my head, he hummed thoughtfully. "Those have a few uses medicinally, dependin' on the shade. He could be sensitive to light. Until he comes into my office, though, I'm afraid that's all I can say."

With a wry smile, Mrs. Fletcher leaned back in her seat.

"I doubt that will do anything to dispel those ridiculous vampire stories that have been making the rounds, lately." She was right, of course. "Be careful, dear, you might find him knocking on your door one night in search of something more than just cookies."

A laugh bubbled out of me, and I felt suddenly better than I had all morning. Trust Jessica and Seth to know how to lift my spirits.

"I'll be sure to wear a garlic necklace and keep a stake handy," I joked. Allowing my smile to fall in favor of something more serious, I switched topics. "Any news about...?"

Jessica and Seth glanced at each other and shook their heads.

"You'd be one of the first to know. The last tip-off the Sheriff had was a dud. Lady was in her fifties. Definitely not Laurel Perrin," Seth murmured setting his fork down. Had he already eaten his second piece of cake? Mentally, I marked that recipe down as a success. I'd have to make one or two for the bakery this week to see how people reacted to it. "I...I know you were her friend, and I don't mean to sound disheartenin', but the chances of Laurel turnin' up after all this time..."

The doctor laid his hand over mine where it rested on the table, and I looked pointedly down at the wood grain beside my fingers.

"I know, Doc. I just...I can't give up hope. Neither can Dave or Charlie. Not until we know for sure, one way or the other. You can understand that, right?"

"Of course, we can. Closure is a somewhat universal longing, especially for those closely involved in situations like this," Jessica murmured wrapping her arm around my shoulders in a reassuring hug. "Now, why don't you tell us how the new space for the bakery is working out?"

Never had I been more grateful for a change of subject.

--

Six days later, I was in the middle of serving who I thought would be my last customer of the night when the bell over the bakery door jingled.

"I'll be with you in just a moment," I called over my shoulder as I boxed up a dozen brownies.

"No problem, take your time." I blinked a couple of times as I finished up. I knew that voice. Forcing myself to stay focused on my current task, I served my regular customer and handed him his change.

"Thanks, Jim. Have a safe drive home, okay?"

"'Course, ma'am, and I'll be sure and tell the wife you asked after her," he said tipping his hat as he turned to leave. My heart thudded rapidly in my chest as I turned to the new arrival.

"How can I help you tonight, Mr. Baker?" The man in question was clad in a crisp, black suit that was probably worth more than my entire inventory, but the smile on his face softened his visage into something more personable.

And his eyes! I hadn't been able to see them properly when they were hidden behind his tinted glasses, but they were the clearest blue I'd ever seen.

"Would you prefer the socially acceptable answer, or the truth?"

Oh, color me intrigued! Clasping my hands and resting them on the counter, I narrowed my eyes at him playfully.

"Hm. Let's have the truth first, then the respectable excuse," I murmured, and he stepped up to the counter, tracing his fingertips over the refrigerated cases as he moved closer.

"Alright. I was fascinated by you the moment I saw you walking up the drive. The way you handled Peter's abrupt dismissal made me realize I'd made a mistake in avoiding contact with my neighbors," he said leaning one forearm on the counter. "I wanted a chance to see you again...to talk to you longer than just a few seconds, and this seemed like my best bet. In my defense, I had no idea that I'd have such a gorgeous neighbor."

I forced the muscles in my face to remain neutral. No smiling, not yet. I had to be casual. If I let myself smile now, I might explode.

"And the respectable excuse?"

"Ah, that. Well, I heard about the special you were having on cupcake orders and thought I'd come take advantage of the discount," Mr. Baker said with a smile, and I bit my lower lip to stifle a laugh. "What?"

Crooking my finger at him, I coaxed him into leaning close enough to whisper in his ear, trying to add to his anticipation.

"The special is on brownies today, not cupcakes."

A warm, velvety laugh spilled from his lips as he leaned back again.

"Oh, damn, there goes my airtight alibi," he mused when his eyes met mine once more. "I guess that blows my chances of you accepting my invitation to dinner..."

I couldn't hide my surprise.

"Dinner?"

"Yes, but I doubt you'd be interested in socializing with a man who can't even get his excuses in order beforehand," he teased. Giving me a shrug and turning to a cloche-covered tray of brightly-iced cupcakes, he pretended to study them as I forced my brain into gear.

"...What day did you have in mind?"

The wide grin he gave me lit up the whole shop.

"How about tomorrow night? From what I understand, your shop is closed on Sundays, isn't it?"

"That's right. Sure, why not? Tomorrow sounds great," I answered lifting the cloche off the cupcake tray. "In the meantime, if we're going to sell that poorly-constructed cupcake excuse, you can't leave here empty-handed."

"Ah, thank you. We wouldn't want the rest of the town to think you were in danger from a reclusive vampire," he muttered with a gleam in his eye as I boxed up an assorted half dozen cupcakes. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing at all. These are on the house."

His eyes went wide, and he placed one of his large hands gently on my arm.

"I didn't come here to swindle you out of your merchandise. I don't want you to think I can't afford a few baked goods."

"This has nothing to do with your ability to pay, Mr. Baker. Haven't you ever had someone do something nice for you before, just because they could?"

Something like comprehension flickered across his face.

"Not...in a very long time, no," he said just above a whisper, looking at me as though I'd transformed right before his eyes. Placing one of my hands over his where it still rested on my arm, I spoke just as quietly.

"Then it's about time someone did." A moment's weighted silence passed between us before I got back to the cupcakes, closing the box and sealing it with one of my labels. "There you are. And if you really want to do something to repay me, tell me this: what's your favorite dessert?"

He was silent for a moment while he considered his answer, but ultimately he shook his head.

"I'll have to think that over. It's serious business deciding something like this," Lawrence said with a faux stern expression plastered on his face.

"Oh, naturally. You can tell me over dinner, assuming you've selected by then," I said with an equally stern expression, but when a bright smile broke across Mr. Baker's lips, I cracked and let out a quick laugh.

"I look forward to your charming company tomorrow night, my dear," he said, and without a moment's hesitation, he caught one of my hands in his grasp and brought it to his lips. My heart fluttered in my chest, the traitorous bastard, and before I knew it, Mr. Baker had taken his box of cupcakes and left.

Resisting the urge to squeal or smile so hard that my face broke, I went to the door and flipped the sign from 'Open' to 'Closed.'

When I got home that night and exited my car, I glanced across the street. Instead of the usual twitching curtain, I was just in time to see both Peter and Mr. Baker in the latter's sitting room, nibbling on what were unmistakably a pair of my cupcakes.

If I'd been any happier, I might have floated away like a balloon.

--

"You're having dinner with the man? But neither you nor anyone else in town knows him very well," Doc Hazlitt protested the next morning as I chatted with him over the phone. He'd called to ask what day that new cake would be added to the bakery's menu so he could give me some extra patronage. Once I assured him it would be a Tuesday addition, he moved on to a rumor he'd heard about Lawrence Baker kissing my hand during business hours and leaving my shop with a box of desserts. I hadn't disabused him of the notion, hence his current state of agitation.

"Doc, I am perfectly capable of handling a simple dinner. I'm not a little girl anymore," I said, and a sigh crackled down the line.

"I know, I know, but I don't want you to get hurt. I was the doc in the ward when you were born, and I've known you all your life. Is it any wonder that I feel a little nervous about you gettin' involved with a man who's only been in Cabot Cove for a handful of weeks?"

"Y'know, that's another thing, Seth," I started as I cradled the phone to my shoulder and slipped a tray of scones into the oven. "People around here act as though every new arrival or outsider is here to pillage the town. Why can't someone move in and be given the benefit of the doubt for once? Mr. Baker is perfectly friendly–"

"–And rich, to boot, meanin' he is used to gettin' exactly what he wants–"

"That's enough, Doctor. You haven't even met the man. You have no right to judge him until you've at least tried to get to know him." I didn't even try to keep the reproachful edge out of my voice. "Please, at least try to be open minded. If not for his sake, then for mine."

"I'd still be grateful if you gave me a call tomorrow morning so that I know you survived the ordeal," he requested, and after a quick agreement, he finally let me go.

Seth was right to an extent. I barely knew him, and Borbey house, despite my personal history, was still surrounded by gruesome stories and the ghosts of its past. It wouldn't hurt to be a little cautious.

Although, a benefit of spending time across the street was that I'd have a chance to change that surly butler's opinion of me. That was something I definitely needed to do, especially if I was going to be acquainted with his employer. Maybe with the right dessert, I could lower his defenses enough to show him I wasn't just a pest to be swept out onto the street.

~*~*~

[allylikethecat]

i had to do an errand that required me to drive into the rural part of my city and i saw horses in a field and immediately started thinking about atkh… i’m suffering from the worst brainrot..(in the best way possible ;))

anyway talk shop tuesday!!

when you dont ask us which fic we want in a poll, how do you decide which fic you post?? i assume some fics are just farther along in your notes but do you update multiple fics at once or do you choose ahead of time which one you’re gonna post and then just focus on writing for that one??

-🥤

Hello My Dear Smoothie Anon!!

If it makes you feel any better, I am twenty eight years old, I own a horse, I typically see him 5-6 days a week, most of my friends also own horses, some who have them in their back yards, and I also live in a very "horsie" area so I see them literally all the time I spent SO MUCH TIME with horses its ridiculous. HOWEVER without fail, I do excitedly announce / shout HORSIE whenever I'm driving and see one out in the world, which is always extremely jarring to whoever is with me when they aren't expecting it lol So like, I get it 😂 I hope you enjoy Friday's update! I know I am excited about it!

Happy Talk Shop Tuesday! Now onto your question now that I got my horse fan-girling out of the way lol

It's kind of a mix, I usually try to work on each fic a little bit here and there (that way I don't get burnt out on any of them) but obviously sometimes I pull further ahead in one. When I don't do a poll it's usually because I've realized I haven't updated one in a while, and I have an update either ready or almost ready. For example, before today the most recent update to Ducklings had been March 26th so I was like shit- I should probably update that one it's been a month lol Now that today's Ducklings chapter has been posted, I'm pretty much in the same spot with all the fics in the poll (other than All the King's Horses that one is actually nearly completed, I however have two different possible endings mapped out for that one and I need to decide which one to follow - and I'm planning on using the feedback on the next few chapters to make that decision so it's extra important for y'all to tell me what you think lol!) SO I figured I would open it up and see which one y'all were interested in next because as much as I love writing and do it for myself, it is fun when people read it and enjoy it, and I do like to take that into consideration. If I hadn't done a poll, it would have been the next chapter of The Birthday fic purely because that one was updated the longest ago now (other than You Know Where the City Is but that one is currently hurting me so an update will be slower lol) I hope this makes sense!!

Thank you so much for being so wonderful and sending this ask and reading and being so supportive! I always get a smile when I see that Smoothie Anon has appeared in my inbox! Thank you so much! I hope your Tuesday was lovely and that you have a wonderful week!

❤️Ally

[argentior]

hey there. i'm another anonymous author on ao3 who's doing the same thing you are, sort of, in the sense that i posted a fic about the milkman under the anon label to keep it separate from other things. i do that for a lot of fics actually, but i digress. (i swear i use proper capitalization in them, lol.)

i just wanted to pop in here and just tell you how enthralling your writing is. like, seriously. it's kind of ridiculous how much i enjoy your prose—it reminds me of how i feel whenever i crack open the hannibal fandom tag. despite writing a fic in the category, i don't even simp for the milkman, and yet i tore through all of your fics in the collection in a matter of hours.

i dunno. i just felt like you deserved to know that you're doing really, really well, and you've gotten me invested in a series about a character and doppel and reader that generally speaking, i treat more as a facilitator for crazy introspective angst in my own work. your doppel POV and francis POV fics were so good that, despite not checking the series on the first, i legitimately recognized the style blind. then bookmarked the whole thing. i love how literally nobody in the series is 'normal'. i love how you write the insert character as attentive, focused, but human. i love how you write francis' apathy as a person who had no choice but to get used to seeing faces in a stagnant yet revolving door. i love how you write the doppelgänger, and the irrationality of a creature that only knows love as hunger.

you're killing it, is what i'm getting at. i hope you keep chugging along, my friend. this is what the medium is made for.

I am at a loss for words for your words which I wish to put up in a frame and smile at it forever. I don't know what to say other than thank you. Thank you for reading and enjoying it. Thank you for sharing what you thought of it.

I have never written for Hannibal. I know he's a cannibal and that's it. My previous fic experience from hyperfixations is DHMIS and Lies of P. I don't know if that says something about me. I also have a SinoAlice fic and Poppy Playtime fic on anon with separate tumblr accounts haha.

What are we doing here anon. Two weeks ago I knew nothing of That's Not My Neighbor. It has been 12 days and I've written like 20k words (17k if i cut out the verbatim repetition from povs). I honestly thought I'd make Perfect and never look at again. But then. Everyone was so nice and the brainrot increased. Where are we anon. (We are simps I think, for the setting and possibilities and potential if nothing else. )

Also YOUR SPELLING BETRAYS THEE

I know not this anon's preferred title but BEHOLD! The only fic that could match the description, the only anonymous fic I know that uses the characters as a vehicle for introspection and which spells doppelgänger with the screaming a with dots over it!!! Read it if you haven't it's so good and also leaves me speechless. The grief!!! The feels!!! It has a softer doppelganger that I also quite enjoy and so many little sad moments. I beg of whoever stumbles upon my blog to read it!!! Also to mind the tags because HOO BOY they are Tags.

This too, is a shining, wonderful piece of fanfiction. May it prosper through the ravenous attention of simps and nonsimps alike.

[ryosmne]

You're gonna fry your brain.

Hello everyone, since it's finals season and we're all probably really dead inside, I decided to self indulge in some tattoo artist! Sukuna writing, so here's this brainrot that won't let me focus on studying. You can read more of this au in the au masterlist.

I've been trying so hard to finish up a bartender! Dabi fic I have in the works for too long, hopefully I can get around to it too. After finals are done I'll be writing a lot more that's for sure.

Tattoo artist! Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings: language, suggestive tones, that's it.

Finals are by far the worst thing about college, y/n knows that the hard way. She's been stressing herself out for the past few days, maybe weeks, going over the same material again and again. She'd constantly argue that she really needs to pass with an high grade that's why she's so obsessive over it.

Sukuna had tried multiple times to help her ease her nerves, he's been there, although he was the type who never really stuck his nose in a book for too long, regardless, his best girl needed a break, no matter how hard she denied it.

Y/n had declined his invitations of going out, she dropped by the shop a few times, bringing Sukuna some food, but he could tell she was slowly burning herself up.

Today was no different, y/n had been writing everything down all day to help memorize it better. So many hours has passed since she started her study session but she didn't even notice that her clock read 8 pm already.

Sukuna did notice, y/n had been barely responding back to his texts and it was time he took matters into his own hands.

The earpiercing doorbell pulled y/n out of her trance like state, she quickly got up from her desk to go and get rid of whoever just rung it.

"Dollface, I was beginning to think you had died in there."

There was Sukuna, leaning in her doorframe, looking as good as he always did, in a plan white t shirt and a gray pair of sweatpants, holding a few bags and a huge basket.

"not quite, what's all this?"

Y/n motioned to the bags he had.

"Nothing much, just some things I picked up for you, will you let me in? this basket is fucking heavy."

No, the basket wasn't that heavy, Sukuna could carry it just fine, he just wanted to make sure that y/n didn't have a chance to deny him.

Y/n stepped aside to let Sukuna in, and he went straight to her kitchen, dropping his bags on the table.

"Thanks for dropping by babe, but I really need to finish the last three chapters I have left."

"Y/n, you're going to fry your brain at this rate, no more studying for today."

"But-"

"No buts, you won't read another sentence today. We're destressing together."

Turns out, Sukuna had brought over many different things. He's not the type of guy to shy away from anything, so the first thing he did was to grab y/n and drag her into her bathroom.

Sukuna had taken mental notes the first time he looked through y/n's skincare products, he was able to determine her skin type and he went a bit crazy, buying her different things to try out.

"You are insane, that's drunk elephant, why did you get this many things?"

"Because you have the really terrible cheap stuff, now shut up you're going to eat the soap if you keep talking with cleanser all over your face."

Now, y/n's skincare wasn't bad, Sukuna had expensive taste and he's a bit of a brand snob

Sukuna gently poked her cheek with a smile as y/n's face distorted because she had in fact tasted the cleanser and Sukuna could only laugh at her before she flicked some into his mouth too.

"Don't kiss me with a face mask on you brat"

Y/n let out a soft laugh, Sukuna was doing his best to concentrate at the task at hand. Matching y/n's nail polish to his. Y/n had just finished painting his, matte black like he requested but y/n gave him some white polish on his ring finger. Sukuna had argued for a bit, saying it didn't look good and that he didn't like it, but gave in after y/n gave him a puppy face, can you blame him?

"But you look so cute like that."

Y/n complained, knowing that this little comment was going to feed Sukuna's ego more.

"I know doll, but artificial orange doesn't taste as good as it smells."

Y/n once again wasn't wrong, his cocky attitude always creeped in at times, not that she minded.

Time passed fast with watching trash reality shows on y/n's couch, after their very own self care day, Sukuna made sure to fix something they could both eat. Now they were engolved in each others arms, y/n's sleepy eyes staring up at him.

"How are you feeling, doll?"

Sukuna's hand found her hair, gently resting on top of her head.

"Much better, you're the best you know that?"

"I've heard it once or twice, I'll give you reasons to say it more often"

He gave her a gentle smile, leaning closer to steal a kiss, a little more intimate than the ones they shared earlier.

" 'Kuna, I'm sorry I was so stressed and distant this week, I probably worried you-"

"Don't be stupid, it's ok, I just want you to know I'm here for you, and it's just finals. You're a smart cookie, I'm sure you'll do great."

Y/n found his words reassuring and nuzzled closer to him, letting her lungs burn with his scent that never got less intoxicating.

"Thank you 'kuna, what would I do without you?"

The last few words came out slurred, but Sukuna understood everything, y/n's breathing got steadier against him.

"I don't know doll I'm just glad to have you here, I promised to take good care of you."

And just like that, y/n was fast asleep next to him, he didn't mind her uncomfortable couch one bit all he cared about was how at peace she looked. Maybe he would move her to her bed later, he couldn't bring himself to do it now.

The next morning, y/n found herself on her bed, Sukuna had almost woken her up getting ready before he left to go to work, but he managed to put her right back to sleep with a kiss on the forehead and a light "don't wake up yet doll".

Y/n made her way to the kitchen, Sukuna usually left a little letter for her on the nightstand by the bed, he must've been in a rush today.

Not quite the case.

Sukuna not only made her, her favourite breakfast, he also left post it notes in some places.

You suck at food shopping, thank me later.

Was written on her fridge.

So that's what all the bags were for, y/n didn't find out last night because of how tired she was, and how much fun she had being around sukuna.

He had filled up her fridge with everything she ever needed to make a meal for herself or have a snack. Let's be honest Sukuna just wanted to cook for her again.

Another post it was found in her bathroom cabinet.

You're probably gonna get mad at me for this but I'm not sorry, you deserve it.

The poor cabinet was stuffed to the brim with brand name skincare that made anyone's wallet scream in anguish and a lot of bathbombs. Upon closer look y/n almost cried at how attentive Sukuna was, he took extra care to look out for her skins needs.

Y/n found the last post it on her desk while she did her revision.

Don't overwork yourself doll, you've got me for that.

Y/n brought Sukuna cupcakes from seven different bakeries to try that day.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Sukuna left early again?"

Megumi asked, the day had been going pretty slow he wasn't surprised his friend dipped.

"Yeah, he left this behind though."

Geto held up a very nice looking white shop bag, a slight glimmer in his eye let the rest of his friends know he planned something.

"So? What's in it anyways?"

Gojo was resting his chin on his hand, blank expression on his face, completely unamused by Geto's discovery.

"Give me that"

Nanami swiftly snatched the bag, curious to see what was inside of it. He reached in and retrieved several wrapped round objects.

"Bathbombs?"

He questioned puzzled, but then his lips tugged upward.

Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and Geto, each got two bathbombs, and even though they would outright say it, they were pretty damn exited to drop them in their bathtubs. That's what Sukuna gets for avoiding clean up.

Sukuna entered the shop barely greeting anyone and begun looking around. Fuck he was looking for something, everyone tried to keep their composure.

"Have you seen a white bag?"

He finally looked at the group of men before him.

"like a backpack? No "

Megumi spoke, Sukuna begun thinking he was remembering everything wrong, that's untill he saw something sticking out of Geto's pocket. That's for sure a bathbomb he bought for y/n

"You motherfuckers, how low can you stoop to steal my girls bathbombs?"

Hey it's me again, though I'd add that here, if you have specific skin demands I tried to cover that in here so everyone can enjoy it, I have lots of allergies and skin concerns so I'm kinda sensitive to that stuff. Hope you had fun reading, remember to take it easy, untill next time :>

Tag list: (comment or message me and I’ll gladly add you)

@artist4theworld @skatercashew

@divineteaty

@in-inception

@not-another-ackerman

@jjk-is-my-shit @ilovemarvel99

@thegaymadafakkasworld @readinghassavedmylife @ruler-of-the-skies

@bluebananasssss

@ghost-of-todoroki

@sabsaocit

@heaveus

@jackysenpaii @rebenok-zimnayaya

@aam1na @sore-eyes@ryan249057 @goobygoobster @charlie-xo @kamisamaundercover

@shadoweepingscream

@sunfloweroranges

@haleypearce

@crapimahuman

@fiona782

@levi-ships-eruri

@chocolatecake764

@stupid-simp33 @ciphersighs

[bunny-rambles]

hiii im back because whenever i feel awful i love going to your blog and rereading some fics and chilling out and sending an ask if im not too shy ehehe. anyways ik your post abt ideas a while ago but this just an silly little brainrot im thinking of writing, got some stuff planned out lmao but its kinda cheesy *nervous laughter*

anyways so. basically former!harbinger!reader and childe are together and they are painfully chaotic and so down bad for each other. the thing is that neither of them have told each other of their secret identity because they want to protect each other and also because they are really fucking blind to each others affections. ANYWAYS so being a former harbinger who faked their death, theres always rumours and agents on the prowl trying to find reader as some didnt believe that they died. And obvi childe has enemies bc hes a fatui harbinger as well. SO SO THIS ENDS UP WHEN THEM JUST BEING DRUGGED OR SOMETHIGN AND THEN WAKING UP AND BEING LIKE OH FUCK THIS IS BAD BUT WAIT MY S/O IS HERE I CANT REVEAL MY IDENTITY but then reader and childe bust out crazy fight moves when the bad guys come back and just ✨power coupling✨ their way through it until they get back to safety and stare at each other in shock like what the fuck just happened lmao, my sweet, soft absolutely adorable partner JUST DID THAT?? and they both realize they have to explain themselves lmao

ahaha im totally not wondering if i should send this in at all because im weirdly nervous and shyyyyy but i hope you’re feeling okay today!

- king (🫣🥴)

Oh dearest,

I’m so happy my blog is a safe space for you. You’re always welcome here, and I’ll do what I can to offer comfort to you through my stories 💞

Now onto your idea, I feel like I’m experiencing deja vu- have we talked about this idea before? Regardless, I’m happy to read it again !!

This reminds me a lot of SPYXFAMILY but without the ‘family’.

I can see Childe pretending to play into the toy seller persona he puts on for his brother to the reader, and the reader taking up an innocent job that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows in their region.

Lmfao them being absolutely clueless

Childe: ‘I got you some flowers because they remind me you.’

Reader: ‘So… I irritate your nose and make your eyes watery?’

Or

Reader: ‘this place would be perfect for a romantic date.’

Childe: ‘I hope whoever you bring likes it!’

Dumbasses in love is a trope I adore dearly, almost as much as enemies to lovers. Anyways,

Reader and Childe getting kidnapped with each other but intentionally holding back what they can do when they’re both imprisoned is both hilarious and unfortunate. It’s only when one of you lands a particularly strong hit all hell breaks loose and you both start showing your true powers. Childe low-key thinks you’re hot when you’re fighting ngl-

Imagine the conversation after-

Both: ‘You can fight?!’

Both: ‘uh…’

Both: ‘you go first-‘

Both, again at the same time: ‘I’m a harbinger-‘

And both of them just scream WHAT?! Because they put up such a sweet persona, not a fake one but obviously just hiding their bloodlust and talent for fighting, so they can’t imagine each other being in such a villainous light.

Childe 100% helps the reader in hiding away from the fatui, even if it risks his life doing it. In return, his partner protects him from the fatui finding out he’s helping them. I bet neither tell each other about that though and they’re keeping more secrets bc they’re fucking idiots that have trouble communicating their feelings.

I love this lil AU, if you have anymore brain rot about it, feel free to send it in !! I don’t know what I can add to it though, I hope you enjoyed whatever this was lmfao

[greycappedjester]

i dont normally do this kinda thing but!!! your sengen hanahaki fic really moved me and i wanted to say smth!

if i may first compliment the writing itself; oh my gosh did you just. perfectly balance the wittiness, the emotional and reflective bits, the — everything. when i tell you i was taking screenshots and constantly sending scenes to my friends in the span of ~2 days i binged this fic…. wow. i feel often times many writers can forsake characters for the sake of writing an emotional scene, esp when it comes to those two. not to say i don’t still enjoy it, because i most certainly do, but you were able to keep those two’s character to heart whilst writing this and . oh my goodness me,,,, i was honestly absolutely delighted. the fact although gen has a huge hold on his emotions + others (for the most part, anyway) he is most certainly more rational than not and ,, ok i can go on forever. i absolutely ADORED every chapter. i felt so giddy during some scenes and absolutely distraught in some others. so good. i quite enjoyed.

but on the other hand, i wanted to thank you. one of my greatest anxieties is revolves around the lack of assurance and uhh,,, guarantee of love in the future. not sure exactly how to word it. i was struggling a lot with this lately and the way i had attempted to reassure myself was through notions such as fate and destiny and whatnot. which only served to fuel the anxiety as i felt as though i was lying. i really hope this doesn’t seem like a dump because what i’m trying to say is!!!!!! the way you wrote gen and his struggle and emotional development. reading through it all honestly helped me work through a lot of it somehow. not all of it, obviously, but i feel a lot more at ease now. it is,, i want to say rare but i don’t think a piece of like . fanfiction or anything similar has moved me in that way before. so, i wanted to thank you. because it honestly means a lot to me even if you weren’t aware of what you were doing.

alas, my brainrot for the way you wrote two of my favorite homosexuals will likely continue. however i really wanted to say HOLY SHIT that was a good fic. like holy guacamole.

This is quite honestly one of the nicest asks I've ever gotten. Thank you.

It just legitimately means so much to me that my story could help your anxieties in any way. And, actually, part of the theme for that Walking With My Eyes Open came from a conversation I was having with my own therapist about the difference between faith (a choice) and belief. That's what originally gave me the idea to start thinking about fate versus faith in the story and how love is more a choice within human means to hold/make. Not sure if this is what other people read out in the story (I'm always big on any piece of writing having multiple interpretations based on whoever is reading is enjoys taking out of it); but, for me, that's one of the reasons I was inspired to write it.

So...just yeah, I'm just happy you enjoyed it and it could help in whatever way it could. Thank you once again for letting me know.

[marc-spectorr]

hiya callie. i’m so sorry i was gone so long. >_<

the past week(ish) i’ve been in a sort of slump. not really for a good reason or anything, just… you know, it happens. i’ve honestly just been so unmotivated, and that includes writing these letters, plus it’s also one of those “slumps” where you tend to isolate yourself. i don’t know if you know what i’m talking about, honestly i hope not hehe. but i’m sorry, i hope you understand djhdjd.

but enough of that sad stuff!! welcome, santi, to the book club!! you seem so wonderful. <3 i don’t know if you know me, but i’m amor. :] it’s really nice to sort of meet you! and welcome back teddy! i’m glad our words helped out with your exam. :D

thirsty asks, huh? i was thinking of joining in, but uh, since i’m ace it’s kinda hard for me to contribute in that department. 😭 instead i’ll talk about fluffy things, because that is a bit more in line with my character. i got this thought: what if the moon boys frequent this coffee shop, but they don’t know they all go there? steven would walk in on monday before work and get a caramel iced coffee or something along those lines, and the barista would sort of take in his face. then the next day, marc is in front. he walks in on tuesday, and the barista recognizes him as steven, and tries to make steven’s order, which confuses marc a lot. marc corrects the barista, and they’re confused as all hell, but they make the new order and decide that’s his new regular. the next day jake comes in, and immediately says “black coffee.” and sits down without waiting for a response. the barista is just. so fucking confused but decides that maybe he just has a different preference each day of the week, and there’s no interference from then on… unless? holy shit, that’s a decent fic idea. if you happen to see a moon knight sys x barista!reader fic floating around in the future, look the other way, because that’s definitely not me hehe. (or someone else could snatch it, i don’t mind that! if you do, i hope i’ll see it someday, because i am having brainrot. oh the classic coffee shop au.)

that’s about all i have to say! i hope you enjoyed this letter, and again, i’m super sorry i was gone. i hope your day was great. :]

- <3

hi hi my sweet amor 💗💗

awww im sorry to hear that :( and i certainly get what you mean! there are a lot of times when i just don’t have any motivation to do things and would rather be left alone. it’s something i’m working on bc it messes up my mind badly tho tumblr has been a great distraction when life gets overwhelming. but i really hope you’re doing alright amor! take care and take it easy love, we’re always here for you ❤️

and ajsjskks i love thirsty asks,,, but soft asks?? my heart gets all warm and fuzzy reading so much fluff 😭 also coffee shop au’s are the cutest things everrrrr!!! i will absolute cry if i ever come across one featuring the moon boys hahah. omg but your idea with the barista getting confused bc of the different orders is gold ksksksk. maybe one day, curiosity finally forces them to sit down with whoever’s fronting on that visit and ask what’s up. this causes all three to become aware of what’s going on and it’s like ok do we go to this coffee shop bc the drinks are soo delish or do we just have a crush on the barista and are making every effort to stop by each day to see them 👀

but thanks for popping in amor :)) don’t be sorry for being away, i understand 💕 hope to chat with you again soon!

[brainrot-and-hcs]

Introduction

Good evening to whoever this post might have found its way to!

I’m here to drop a humble but not-so-quick introduction to my new blog. Aptly titled “brainrot and headcanons,” it’ll be the dedicated place for me to share any headcanons, fics, or miscellaneous thoughts I have on pieces of media I enjoy. The added twist to this blog, thrown in for a bit of zest, is that all my stories will be written with a transmasc or gender neutral audience in mind. 

I got the idea a few years ago when I first began my own transition. I’ve read self-insert fanfiction since I was in early middle school. (For a long time I was embarrassed to admit it, but in quarantine I’ve hit the point where I don’t see what I have to lose talking about it. I mean, I’m making my own blog dedicated to it now, so I don’t see the point in hiding it.) Putting myself into the worlds I enjoyed so much was a great crutch for when life was tough, but my safety net fell away when I began transitioning from female to male. 

That was when I finally started to realize that most fanfiction is written with a female audience in mind; worse yet that too many of them don’t specify a female reader until it’s too late! You’ve already read half the story by the time your favorite character calls you “she,” and then the illusion is broken and you’re left a husk of the person you once were. It’s no good! So with this blog I’m setting out to write fanfiction specifically with people like me in mind. 

I want this blog to be a safe space for men and nonbinary individuals who want to enjoy fanfiction with absolutely no worries of getting misgendered. Pronouns and dysphoria triggers will always be clearly labeled at the top of stories, that’s the Aspen guarantee! “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself,” they say. So instead of sitting around lamenting the lack of fanfiction for people like me, I want to try and actually make some myself. I’m really pleased to see that this idea isn’t very unique -- a lot of new blogs are popping up with the same “gimmick” as this one. But I figured that more representation never hurt anyone, so I would like to throw my hat into the ring and see what I can do for you all!

I’ve never really written fanfiction before; I’ve only ever read it. I wonder if I’ll have the chops for it. On top of that, I don’t know how much time I’ll be able to dedicate to a steady stream of content, seeing as I am a student first-and-foremost. Nevertheless this is an idea I’ve had for a long time now, so I think it’s worth it to at least attempt to start it up and see where time takes it. I hope you’ll join me on this journey, however long or short it may be. 

🌟Aspen