hi fawn! hope you're doing ok
so, sunshine!reader and post prison!spencer, but r is all serious during work situations and spencer only finds out about this sunshiney side over their time together ☝️
Spencer thinks you’re a hardass and he likes it, but he’d be a horrible profiler if he didn’t realize that there was more under the surface.
You’re rigid and unmoving in most everything you do in the field, and you’re never wrong. But the minute it’s not work, you’re lighter in a way he can’t put into words.
Spencer notices what he terms, ‘the changes,’ during your mornings.
You’ll make his coffee the way he likes it and set it on his desk, or you’ll bring extra of whatever you baked over the weekend for him and the office.
Also, on some occasions you walk in on the phone with this grin that he swears lights up the whole room and your voice light and sweet as whipped sugar.
He’s fond of those mornings for your smile but he’s also raging jealous, that much he can admit to himself, of whoever is on the other end of the phone making you smile like that.
“Morning, Spence.” You’re late today, only two minutes but over the year you’ve worked there Spencer knows you hate it.
Maybe it’s why your face is set in a serious frown as you set your bags down. When you yawn and stretch he thinks maybe not.
“Hi, how was your first night back on Eastern Standard time?”
You sigh, headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. “Hell. I didn’t realize I’d be that jet lagged.”
Spencer coos something adorable, you feel it in your chest. He’s quite possibly the sweetest man you’ve ever met.
It’s possibly why you allowed yourself to get so close to him, why you’d become friends with Spencer and why you’re leaning into him as he stands next to you, your temple hovering over his shoulder.
He can smell your perfume this close and only hopes that it rubs off onto his shirt. It’s a scent so much like yourself he wonders if you realized that when you’d bought it.
It’s spicy and then after a couple seconds, amber and vanilla and something floral he can’t place takes over- it’s exactly you.
Spencer spots the change in demeanor the second on of the newbies pass by, the way you stand straighter and lean away from his space a little.
Still, he trails a hand from his side to the small of your back, a shiver racing down your spine as his hand touches you. Spencer bites back a smile- always pleased to be reminded by how he affects you the way you do him.
“Maybe if we’ve not got much going on here I can drive you home early.” The words are soft enough only you hear them, and there’s a touch of something you can place in his voice. Adoration? Love? You really shouldn’t assume.
“If Emily approves it.”
Spencer shrugs, mixing your coffee the way you like and handing you the warm mug, handle out towards you. “Or I can get you home first and tell you her you weren’t feeling well.”
You narrow your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee, relief and comfort flowing through you as your shoulders sag. Even you can’t quite make your coffee this well.
“Ask permission later, essentially?” You tease, Spencer smiles, a private smile only for you as you start making your way back to your desks together.
“For you? Yeah. She won’t mind either way.” It’s true, but the idea of Spencer possibly getting in trouble or going over Emily’s head to take care of you does make your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected.
“You flirt too much,” you say with a smile. Spencer hasn’t even shown you the half of it. “C’mon, I wanna hear my morning facts about orcas and ladybugs. Don’t keep a girl waiting.”
Spencer touches your shoulda as he gets past you, just to get his insect book and the orca book he’d gotten just for you. “Oh I’d never, honey.”
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—DON'T BELIEVE THE SIGNS
miya atsumu x fem!reader
+ angst (no comfort what y'all expect), lovers to exes
other tags: microcheating, LAZY WRITING, babe/baby nicknames, small cases
wc: 3.7k
note: not proud of this one but i was itching to start and finish this tonight. so :-) not proofread yet again. also if yall read this note pls drop some hq angst series in my ask box plsplspls
DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS
atsumu loves you. he definitely does.
a year into the relationship— and six months of courting— he can say he's contented with you, and he shows it through his words and actions.
there was a time when atsumu drove past the hotel where his ex— who he once thought of was his greatest love— booked their first anniversary to.
you were on the passenger seat, your hand on his where it rests on your lap, fully unaware what was going through his mind. both his hand twitched. you, who didn't let things go unnoticed, giggled at him, brushing your thumbs on the back of his hand.
in his eyes, of course, you're his greatest love.
atsumu walks through the aisle, cart in tow. his eyes saw a chocolate bar he hasn't seen in a while— the exact chocolate bar that his ex had given him for valentine's one time.
he shook his head, asking to himself why he was still reminded of her.
he didn't think much of it the first and second time, but as time went by and more things reminded him of his past lover, he was almost convinced the universe was giving him signs that maybe he hasn't really moved on— that maybe you two weren't really meant for forever. he was almost convinced.
and because he wasn't fully convinced, he didn't do anything about it, but you were beginning to notice something was off.
"baby, did you get my chocolates?"
"yeah, it should still be inside one of the paper bags."
you jumped off of your seat, eyes tired from looking at your laptop screen due to your work from home job.
you croached down to look for the 3 musketeers chocolate you dearly love, but there was only maltesers and twix bars. you frowned.
"i don't see any muskeeters in here, babe," you whined.
his eyes furrowed, "huh? i bought maltesers. aren't those your fave?"
you shook your head, your lips forming a thin line.
atsumu's eyes widen slightly in realization, you almost didn't catch it.
the silence passed for a minute, both of you staring at each other. you weren't sure if you should confirm it, but in your mind, he didn't need to.
he mistakened her favorite chocolate as your's.
he apologized, but that doesn't mean it didn't get worse. that doesn't mean signs about his ex didn't stop showing up, and that doesn't mean it didn't gradually made him uncomfortable.
y/n: can you take out paella for dinner? cant cook tonight :-(
tsumtsum: ocake
y/n: ty! i love you!
tsumtsum: i love u
when atsumu got home that night, he had bought paella for take out good for two. being a considerate boyfriend, he made sure it wasn't seafood since you're apparently allergic to shellfish.
but when you padded your feet to the dinning room and saw the chicken and chorizo paella, your eyebrows knit together. you weren't a pick eater but seafood, especially shrimp, was your absolute favorite. you were looking forward to having seafood for dinner.
but why isn't it seafood paella?
you gulped the hurt that you were feeling rising up your throat from your chest. atsumu was too busy looking for something to drink in the fridge.
"was there no seafood available?"
he glanced over his shoulder to look at you, "what do you mean? you're allergic."
"babe."
"what?"
"i love seafood."
this time his eyes slowly closed, realizing another mistake. another thing he forgot about you.
"what are you not telling me?"
he couldn't tell you. not when he wasn't sure, so he shook his head, apologized and made up an excuse.
from there on, he kept trying to make up to you. but it just didn't feel the same anymore because it either felt like out of obligation or he was trying to cover up the other things he hurt you for. each time he does, he doesn't realize his temper was thinning.
you tried to communicate with him over and over again whenever something felt off.
but your patience, your empathy, your love can only go so far.
what he doesn't notice is he wipes his lips or cheek whenever you kiss him.
what he doesn't notice is he glowered whenever you talked.
what he doesn't notice is he stopped exerting effort.
he doesn't notice he's showing all the signs that he's gradually falling out of love.
he doesn't notice that he's losing you.
but you do.
you, the silly lover girl who didn't let things go unnoticed.
you tried one last time to communicate to him your feelings. irritated, he only said, "i'm tired of this."
so after you waited him to go to sleep, you decided to leave.
you place a hand on his forehead and kiss the back of your hand as goodbye, fearing that even in his sleep he'd find annoyance in it— that it'd wake him up or he'd wipe the kiss away even in his sleep.
that was the last time atsumu has seen you.
and he noticed now that he shouldn't have believed in the signs.
general masterlist | haikyuu masterlist
DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS
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Neighbor! König Part 2
Follow up to this:
After you expressed interest in his miniature collection, he actually actively OFFICIALLY invited you over one evening (and inside!)
It may not sound like much to most to be invited into someone's house but for him, it's the ultimate trust. His house is his private space, his sanctuary, where he goes to be without other people
He doesn't ever invite anyone inside unless necessary or they've truly gained his trust and being invited INTO his house, and actually into a shared space of one of the hobbies that matter the most to him?? Yeah, that's how he says he likes you
He's been working on his models and dioramas for so so long he's incredibly proud and can't help but to want to actually show them off to someone who wants to see
Usually most people don't care :( or think it's weird
But you've embraced it! You're so excited and he's over the moon, he's having the best day ever, if you do research and bring him gifts or show him some new ideas
He has exquisite attention to detail and INSISTS on everything being exactly the way he envisions it. And you notice! You actually notice. Which means you care about his hobbies, the work he puts in, and therefore him
It might be a bit early to say the L word but he's feeling certain ways
He may be a big dude but that doesn't mean he lacks fine motor skills. He's laying those tiny pieces of moss onto the cobble stones like a PRO
Miniatures allow him control over the environment, even if it's on a smaller scale, and offer a way to keep his hands and mind busy so he often throws himself into it
It also helps him relive happier memories. He's afraid of forgetting them and when he's stressing, it's his happy place because he can look at them and simply remember the things in life that matter
He'll ask you about a story you like or a favorite show or book or movie. That's his next miniature planned (in secret. Can't ruin the surprise, he needs to have it all perfect. He will either read the book, watch the movie, will study EVERY detail)
He will start to invite you over when he's having a painting night or is working on them. You don't have to follow his rules or do what he wants! He's just happy you're there and appreciating it
He will always have your favorite snacks and drinks in stock too. Need to make it fun and can't have you going hungry
If you want, he'll put on background noise! He's happy to make it immersive and to light a candle or put something in a diffuser to really set the scene you're going for. But he's perfectly happy to hangout with you as is
You'll finally get to hear him laugh and hear his really, really bad jokes. He has a dry sense of humor and most of what he says isn't even close to funny, he's awkward like that
But if you laugh? That's it, he's sold.
Time flies so fast when you're over, you don't even realize it's 3am
You don't need to go home! I know it's right across the street but he has a guest room and it saves you the trip in the morning. You have a whole nother round of characters to paint :)
Okay maybe it was an excuse so you could see the curtains he'd made and the pillows and he decorated the guest room with! Like actually tried decorating. They're made with love, that's what counts right?
Did he spray the pillows with his cologne before you came over? Maybe, but he won't ever admit to it
You can't complain. Not when he insists it's no trouble at all, you should stay over, and he does everything he can to make you comfortable.
And you're certainly not complaining when you wake up to breakfast in bed
He's so happy to finally have someone to share his life with, even if it's nothing official. He might not say it because words are hard, but he'll always show it in every way that he can 💚
If you look closely at the replica he made of his childhood home, you'll notice two figures in the kitchen who just so happen to look like you and him
Proud believer of König being just a guy! A guy with hobbies! A guy with a calm domestic life! Just because he's a private military contractor doesn't mean he's a constantly violent dude or a guy who lacks an immense amount of respect for boundaries. Sure, he gets really into his job when he does it, but that's his realm! That's his zone. That's why he's confident and having fun, he knows he's good
Outside of work, he's just a guy with a troubled childhood making the best of life and trying to find his own sense of belonging, happiness, and peace
Justice for König, he's not an insane perv or some freakytron or some stalker :(
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Idle Hands
Summary: Whenever Tony forgets to go to bed, it's always been up to you to bring him back to your side.
Pairing: Tony Stark x fem!Reader
Warnings: Heavy on the softness compared to most of my other stuff; I was in a very sentimental (read: sad and touch-starved) mood back when I wrote this lol. Tony Stark is a TEASE both in word and deed -- I have said it is canon therefore it is now. The feral way he makes me feel should be illegal. Also you can read the...implications of my vague wordings towards the end as tame or as smutty as you wish ;)
I feel the need to mention here that Tony Stark has been my most favorite comic book character since I was but a mere 11 years old. He holds the distinction of being my longest-running fictional crush/object of my obsessions and I love him so deeply and for so many little reasons that I could write a PhD dissertation on him. So please enjoy my little love letter to the man that has held my heart for nearly a decade and a half <3
It's that point of the night where you really can't decide if it should be counted as ungodly late or ungodly early. 4:00 am does tend to scramble the thoughts.
You've been drifting in and out of an uneasy sleep for what feels like forever, and as you roll away from the digital clock display on the wall with an annoyed sigh, you suddenly see why.
The other side of the bed is utterly untouched.
He hasn't been here with you at all.
You sit up, trying to remember if he had plans tonight. The calendar app on your phone has no record of a gala, awards ceremony, board meeting, or anything else that might have taken up his time.
Which means he's probably down in the lab again.
Briefly, you contemplate trying to call him, but you know from experience that he probably isn't taking calls right now, even if FRIDAY tried to put one through for you. He's in that zone that only designing and building can put him in, the one mindset where his too-busy brain is crystal clear and the world at last makes sense to him.
So you pull yourself out of bed, throw one of his old sweatshirts on over your cami and pajama shorts (he keeps the AC cranked all the way whenever it's warm outside) and pad out of the bedroom and on your way downstairs.
His lab is awe-inspiring as always, no matter how many times you see it. The purring thrum of the generators and the comforting pulse of dimmed lights, the heavy, electric feeling of the air itself -- he's described his workspace to you as having a life of its own before, and you can understand so well why time escapes him down here.
You just hope he's not using it to escape from other things as well.
He's deeply absorbed in his work on something at a station opposite the door, and your heart skips a beat even as you smile fondly at the familiar sight. Clad in sweatpants and a black tank through which you can just barely see the blue glow of his arc reactor, he looks all at once more human than usual and like some being from another world entirely.
It's the Stark curse, he told you once, and you recall the wry slant of his lips as he said so. To know you're a god trapped in a mortal body, an infinite mind with a finite number of years to use it. It's the reason behind all his greatest triumphs -- and all his harshest falls from grace.
And somehow, you were lucky enough to be the one he fell in love with.
It still feels like a dream sometimes.
Realizing he isn't going to look up on his own anytime soon, you stifle a yawn and knock sharply on the doorframe.
"Tony?"
He stiffens as if he's been shocked (always a possibility, when he's rewiring) and shoves the safety glasses high up on his forehead. "That would be yours truly. Everything alright?"
With a laugh, you cross the room, warmth rising in your chest as he immediately sets down his tools and steps out from behind the table to meet you. And damn, he always looks good -- he is Tony Stark, after all -- but there's always something about him when his hair gets all unruly and he has THAT look of intense concentration on his face that really drives home to you all over again just how gorgeous he is.
You cuddle up to him, and he kisses the top of your head.
"Asked you a question, Honey."
"Do you know what time it is, Tony?"
There's a prolonged moment of answering silence as he glances up at one of his nearby monitors. "Crap. Well, why are you up?"
Pulling back slightly so you can tease the protective eyewear off his head, you give him a look. "Can't sleep."
An eyebrow tilts; he's playing dumb.
"And that's my problem why?"
"Jerk." You take your time playing with his glossy dark hair, neatening it back up before raking your fingers through it to mess it up again. "Maybe because you love me...?"
"Oh, so you're down here looking for sympathy, got it." He smirks at you, a well-practiced and infuriatingly handsome look. "In that case, sorry about your insomnia, Beautiful. There's melatonin in the drug cabinet upstairs." He snares the safety glasses from your fingers once more and makes as if to return to his work. "Sympathetic enough for you?"
You wrap your arms around his waist from behind, stopping him from going any further, though the smug son of a bitch starts tinkering with his new designs again even through your persistent clinging. It mesmerizes you for a couple seconds, always has, the way his hands work with such delicate precision and dexterity, and you can't help selfishly wishing he would turn them towards other, less...mechanical endeavors at this moment.
He probably would, in all honesty, but Tony Stark is the king of making you work for it. Philanthropic he may be, but some things even you have to earn from him when he's feeling particularly devilish.
"I don't want your pity," you hum, pressing a sleepy kiss to his shoulder. "I was lonely without you."
"Perfectly understandable. I've been told by many that I'm scintillating company. You can, by all means, stay and watch me work, you know. Feeds my humble ego."
You roll your eyes and impatiently reach up under his shirt, feeling his muscles tense at the unexpected coldness of your hands.
That finally gets his attention and makes him turn around. Before you can even fully comprehend it, he's swept his work out of the way and lifted you up onto the worktable instead, restless fingers drawing intricate patterns on your inner thighs, though his eyes never leave yours, crystalline blue pinning your attention to his amused face instead of his very distracting hands.
"That," he grins, "was adorable. Sleepy version of you is so much more demanding. Maybe I should stay down here too long more often."
You try to frown at him, though his sparkling gaze and mischievous touch make that impossible. "How dare you."
"I do a lot of dumb things to see where they get me. You know that." He nods at the thick gray sweatshirt still keeping you warm. "Why don't you take that off for me, Sweetness. You make me cold, I get to return the favor."
Unable to come up with something snarky to say in return with the way his hands are making you shiver now, you do as he suggests with little resistance, the exposed skin of your arms and chest prickling at the much cooler air.
He leans in to tenderly kiss your neck, and your breath leaves in a sigh at the way his facial hair scratches at your throat. He's always been a helluva kisser and the meticulously maintained goatee is just the icing on the cake. Making out on his worktable was not the original plan when you first came down here, but even by his own admission Tony's best plans are usually improvised.
And you're certainly not complaining.
"What did you want from me again?" he murmurs, close to your ear.
The absolute audacity of him.
"Mmmmmmm," seems to be about all you can manage at the moment, and you know very well what's coming next.
He pulls you closer to him, the movements of his fingers turning agonizingly slow and prompting a slight gasp from you.
The smile that gradually spreads its way across his mouth is absolutely wicked.
"What was that, Sweetheart? I didn't quite catch it."
You try to reclaim some semblance of coherence, but his firm hold on you prevents you from escaping his delightfully systematic torture, so instead you grab on to his well-defined shoulders, your forehead resting against his chest. The mechanically-stabilized beat of his heart echoing beneath his skin a brief reminder that he's alive, despite everything he's been through, and he is yours. There's no one else on his mind, no one else he's let this far into his messy and often painful world.
The world may know him as Iron Man, the one who has saved them more times than they could ever count, but how many people really know the Tony that you know?
That same Tony who now raises one hand to tip your head back, whose sharp eyes soften with affection for the slightest of seconds before the anticipated words fall from his tongue, the words he knows will always unravel you.
"You just have to tell me what you want. Come on, Princess. Use your words."
You shudder and lean in to beg for another kiss.
"You, Tony. Always you. Please."
He kisses you back with renewed intensity, leaving you completely breathless.
"There we go...was that so hard?"
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I was curious if you had any head canons pertaining to Malik Al-Sayf and him as a person? Let's forget that he is an assassin for a second and focus on him as an individual. Like is he comfortable with the loss of his left arm or is he embarrassed by it? What sparked his interest in maps and making them? Why was he so close with Kadar his baby brother? The more humanizing elements.
INDEED, I DO HAVE HEADCANNONS ABOUT THE DAI OF JERUSALEM! Ahem... But fr tho I do have a lot of head cannons about Malik as a person.
I don't know why...but he gives major "I'm abusive and angry toward the idiot novice but I'm actually really sweet" vibes. I think he's a total sweetie bear behind constantly humbling Altair lol
I think we ALL know that Altair's redemption arc wouldn't have been the same without Malik's verbal bashings and occasional scroll throwing.
About the loss of his left arm...
He was angry at first. Very angry. He had plans of how he wanted to help the Brotherhood and further their cause he so believes in, and then suddenly it was all taken away. He was told that he could no longer be in the field lest he be unnecessarily slain and then sent to Jerusalem. (This winds up fueling his spite and he became obsessed with mastering one armed swordsmanship...to the point where he could put two armed Altair on his ass lol)
Now he did go of his own free will, but he knew they put him in charge to soothe any battered ego he had. The man felt that it was a form of pity and emotional smothering. He had felt that Al Mualim had "requested" him to depart from Masyaf as a way to keep him from killing Altair... because he wanted to. He had felt...betrayed by what he believed in after it took so much from him and then it just swept him to the side like an old sandal. But being away and trying to focus on his responsibilities helped. Being alone also gave him time to cool down from his anger and focus on mourning his baby brother which he needed a lot of time to do.
He's not necessarily embarrassed by losing his arm, but he does feel inconvenienced by it from time to time. Forgetting that he no longer has a left hand to multitask and reach for things with. He was mad when he discovered that he couldn't carry as many books as he used to be able to, but he's smart so he found ways to get by (one of them including making a certain novice carry them lest he refuse and get bonked on his hooded coconut)
Malik can handle himself and you just KNOW that he mastered his f- you glare by giving the death stare to anyone who looked for too long ahaha. He does not appreciate staring AT ALL. He has eyes to make eye contact with hello. He also gets tired of explaining his sudden missing limb and of people expressing sympathy at the beginning because it just refreshes everything - plus he's Malik Al-Sayf OKAY he doesn't need BOTH ARMS to be a BADASSARINO.
He also feels vulnerable from time to time, and he doesn't like that one bit. He already lives a high alert lifestyle so losing his arm put him on peak "don't touch me or I won't hesitate" mode. The vulnerability wore on him for a while but eventually he became confident enough in his skills to protect himself again and his love helped too.
Though in a way he does appreciate the new awareness that losing his arm has brought him. It made him more reactions quicker and he became more responsive - such as a catching a falling book in the blink of an eye or blocking the cat from bapping his quill in the inkwell and knocking it over lol. (He has a cat in there with him and you CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE)
As for his interest in maps and making them...
We know that Malik was jealous of the way that Altair from a young age was "the favorite" of Al Mualim - so we can assume that he does in fact feel jealousy and it affects him on different levels. Whether it consists of the manifestation of saltiness toward the one he's jealous of, or it results in him learning a new skill. SO -
Malik was jealous of the eagles. Yes, the bird. He was always jealous of how they could fly so high up into the sky and see everything, everywhere, far and wide from multiple angles, and it made him wonder if such a thing was possible for him. When he could, he loved climbing up to high places - not to perform the Leap of Faith - to see the view from above. He loved it. And it made him think about other ways he could see everything from different perspectives.
Then he discovered Cartography. Needless to say, he was ecstatic lol. Map making for him was the perfect way to achieve what he wanted. He could have an Eagle Eye view of a large area from multiple perspectives and see everything just like he wanted. He could even make multiple versions of it from different angles! He could make a map of Masyaf from his POV in the mountains OR from the top of the Bureau.
I also think that him being so into cartography is a bit of a traumatic response. If he has a map and he knows the place intimately or can study it to see what it holds, he feels better about sending someone there or going himself. He didn't know what the Temple of Solomon held that day...and if he had he would have made Kadar stay home.
I even have a head cannon that Malik makes multiple versions of maps not just from different perspectives and to have backup copies, but to troll people haha. You telling me that this man wouldn't make a fake as hell map to fool Templars in case they stole them? I just KNOW he gave Altair multiple maps and told him to keep the true one on his person so if the enemy was successful in snatching the maps they'd get BAMBOOZLED ACK-
Finally, you wanted to know why I think he was so close with his baby brother Kadar...
I believe that he was so close with his baby brother Kadar because he's a family man, he's loyal, and he loves hard. They didn't really have their parents growing up so more oft than not he felt alone in the world. But no matter how alone he felt Kadar was always there for him, whether it was annoying him, joking with him, or just sitting with him. He fell into the role of big brother easily and got used to being the protective provider. Without Kadar he no longer had someone to care and look out for and Malik didn't know what to do with himself besides bury himself in his work.
It felt like a knife to heart when he lost the only family he had ever truly had because he knew that the Brotherhood was merely a figment of family - not the true family that he wanted. He had always dreamed of Kadar and him having their own families and bringing them both together to be one big happy family. But when Kadar was killed the reality of that dream never coming true...hit him hard.
Malik was also incredibly angry by the slaughtering of his brother Kadar because he was so young. He had so much potential and so much life to live - and it was taken like it had never even existed. He had imagined teasing Kadar about falling in love when the time came, the pride he would feel watching his baby brother one day become a Master Assassin as he had always dreamed of, the happiness he would feel on behalf of his little brother when he became a father. He had imagined what it would've been like to grow old and have Kadar crack jokes about aching bones and greying hair. Malik had imagined watching his little brother grow up the same way parents would anticipate watching their child grow.
Now, for the rest of his life he'll be tortured by "what ifs" and possibilities that will never happen. Malik felt robbed of the one true gift he had ever received in his life - especially as most people in his position don't get what he had. Family.
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Sometimes I see mention of the first warrior cats book and it feels so...nostalgic to me. It feels like home. It's comforting. Just Firepaw and his friends learning and growing together when they were young and naive. Before the plot thickened and before he was really thrust into the politics and tragedies of the clans.
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I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.
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🧸♡ ⋆。˚
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I think that Johnnyboy’s potential to complicated and messy is criminally untapped in fanon. Ponyboy ‘fucking sucks at feelings, both his own and of others, and can be a bitch’ Curtis and Johnny ‘imperfect victim with shit self-esteem’ Cade would definitely have their ups and downs
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I sat down and read Howl's moving castle a few days ago, and now I have an aching brain rot for these characters and need to read the next two books to fill the void in my heart.
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We always try hard to warn friends of certain content because we’re admittedly very “numb” to most stuff though grasp how things can be very hurtful for others, thus we use our ability to sit through most stuff to then warn others of things. We reflect on this a lot, we sometimes feel ashamed for feeling so numb but we’re happy to help folks. Especially given we enjoy lots of content which contains very heavy topics and we rarely gladly recommend stuff to people. We worry we’re a bit annoying in this sense though to lol! We worrying we get too worried about friends, whenever we watch shows nd movies we like w folks we always give very big warnings haha.
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3, 4 and 7 for the ask x
thanks for the ask!📚
3. What’s something you read recently and wanted to argue with (either with the book or the author or the fans)?
buckle up for a good ol' book rant!
so the dreamhealers series - a cozy slice of life scifantasy story about two neurodivergent individuals forming a queerplatonic partnership - is, it turns out, the origin story of the characters which the author mca hogarth has conceived a long time before as side characters in a completely different arc in her peltedverse. i assume she started developing said arc when she was a teen and wrote the dreamhealers when she was already an adult. the result is two stories that tonally and structurally couldn't be more different but that both feature these two characters which naturally resulted in characterization consistency problems. you can't take a weird lil guy from a pastoral novel where everyone just vibes and put him into a high stakes high fantasy plot without it taking a toll on their personality. now, this is not a problem if you finish the dreamhealers and just stop after book 4, however comma goodreads shows that there's this novella following the last book and you assume it's gonna be some sort of cute epilogue and you pick it up and it turns out it's not that but rather a short backstory of the characters mca hogarth wrote for her high stakes arc BEFORE she wrote the full version of their backstory aka the dreamhealers. are you still following? anyways i read the novella and was appalled at how jarring the difference is between jahir and vasiht'h in the series and this novella which, if you read in the order i'm reading in, basically serves as a link between the dreamhealers and prince's game. on the one hand, it's cool to see how much mca hogarth grew as a writer and how much more nuanced and relatable she made her characters in the course of their development. but on the other, it made me have unpleasant ruminations about what is canon and what isn't. this novella feels like a retcon designed to make jahir and vasiht'h fit a new narrative. however, it was written before the dreamhealers - does that then make dreamhealers a retcon and not as canon? both things can't be canon bc jahir and vasiht'h in the series would never do things they do in the novella. which makes it feel like a fanfic written by someone who doesn't understand the source material.
phew did it feel good to get all of this off my chest! tl dr please read the dreamhealers but under no circumstances read "family"
4. What are your top 3 comfort reads?
to be completely honest i don't typically re-read books for comfort purposes. that's what fanfics are for!✨ the top 3 i used to re-read the most (but not in quite a while tho) are lessons (aftg), astray (captive prince) and this unfinished theseus/the minotaur fic which i believe was called asterius und which, as i was distraught to discover, had been privated by the author😭 such tasteful monsterfucking literature i have never known before or since
7. What book do you love but usually not recommend because it’s weird or intense, etc?
i love aftg but i will rather bleach my soul by reading that fandom's discourse again than recommend it to anyone. and to be clear, it's not bc i think the seires is weird or poorly written or not good enough for general audiences - it's bc no one is worthy of studying the sacred texts except for me and a couple other initiated intellectuals
book ask
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I'm out here making RPF OCs you can't even imagine. My mind is open. My spirit is soaring. Haters lament my whimsy and power.
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This has got to be the worst move out yet
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