#ok tags before i go on another tangent
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Bake A Wish - John Price/Reader
Masterlist
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 7.2k
Warnings: Fluff with a smidge of angst
Summary:
You bump into a man and his daughter at the grocery store. The kid is really insistent you join them for dinner.
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She’s been on a tangent about her father, who you assume she’s hiding from, for ten minutes now. From what you’re able to gather, he works in the military.
Unwilling to dampen her excitement, you crouch down and listen to every word. “Is that so, little one?” you say, propping your chin up with your hand.
She nods, brown strands flying everywhere. “Mhmm. And he’s super handsome, too! A lady called him a dill, but Daddy’s not a pickle! She was so silly.” Your eyes widen, and you slap a hand over your mouth to barricade the gurgle in your throat. A fucking DILL.
Note:
This has been sitting in my wips for over a month but it's finally done!! I apologize if the quality feels sporadic throughout the fic. Writing consistently is just something I can't seem to do and my motivation/inspiration has been in a slump lately. The amount of fluff fics I've written that involve baking is ridiculous, I didn't realize that's the activity I default to lol.
I've never written for John before, so I'm still trying to get a feel for his character.
Anyways, thank you @yeyinde for introducing John Price to me. I was debating on not tagging you but I can't be a coward forever.
Happy Reading! ヾ(•ω•`)o
─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───
John holds the hand of his six-year-old daughter, Rose. The little munchkin is a ball of energy, and he fears the consequences if he were to let her run wild. “Don’t let go of my hand, ok Rosy?” Rose grins with more mischief than a little child should have. She attempts to run away, and John scoops her in his arms.
“I’m too big to be carried, Daddy!” she squeals, arms flinging around his neck to stabilize herself. The scent of her strawberry shampoo tickles his nose.
“You have to promise me you’re not going to do that again,” he says. Rose holds out her pinky, and he accepts her promise. Her finger looks tiny and frail compared to his. He sets her down and ruffles her hair despite her whinging. “Do you remember what we came here to buy?” he asks.
She claps her hands with glee and exclaims, “Cookies for Santa!!! Because Daddy can’t bake, so we have to buy cookies from the store!” John smiles, but he can’t help but feel the sting of her bluntness. Kids are way too honest.
“What kind of cookies do you want to get?” he asks.
“Not chocolate chip. Everyone uses chocolate chip.” She strokes her chin, imitating the gesture she’s seen her father do whenever he has to think hard about something. “Candy cane cookies!” She ponders over it for another minute before nodding her head. “I bet Santa’s never gotten candy cane cookies before.”
“I don’t think they sell those, rosebud,” he says, and she frowns.
“I guess they’re too special to sell in a store,” she laments, her enthusiasm wilting a little.
John crouches down to Rose’s eye level. “Why don’t we look at all the cookies they have and pick one afterwards?” he suggests.
“Ok,” she sighs, holding her hand out for him to grab. Large, calloused fingers swallow her hand whole, and John wonders how much longer it will stay like this. Her brown locks are a few inches longer than last time, but the beaming smile on her face when she sees him remains constant. He blinks the heat away from his eyes and leads Rose to the snack aisle.
There’s an entire shelf dedicated to cookies, some of them themed for the holidays. But the snowflake shortbread cookies further deflate Rose. She droops when they come across sugar cookies in the shape of Christmas trees. John silently curses the corporate companies for manufacturing every winter holiday cookie except for a candy cane. He squeezes her hand, and his heart aches when he catches Rose biting her lip. Tears are on the verge of spilling, but she will not cry. He actually can’t remember the last time he’s seen her cry. The thought bothers him more than he wants.
John spots a box of rainbow cookies on the top shelf. He releases her hand to grab them, “What about these?” When he turns around, Rose is gone. The box tumbles to the ground. “Rose?” His eyes sweep the shelves. Rows of cookies and other snacks, but no sign of her. “Rosy?!” He begins jogging through the store, checking every aisle before moving on to the next. Icy claws grip his chest, and all of his senses are on high alert. He fidgets with the dog tags around his neck and has to remind himself that he’s not on duty.
Sharp laughter slices through the pounding in his eardrums; a high-pitched fit dissolves into familiar giggles. Rose. He flexes his clenched fists to relieve the stinging in his palms. He pinpoints the sound to the baking section and sprints like a madman. Sliding to a stop, he spots her at the other end of the aisle. His body sags against a shelf, and the air enters his lungs with ease once more.
“My Daddy’s amazing! He can shoot bad guys from reeeeally far away,” Rose brags to a stranger crouched in front of her. That stranger is you.
A faint giggle grabbed your attention. Twinkling lights accompanied by the pounding of tiled flooring. A little girl beelined straight toward you, veering to the side to hide behind a display of chocolate bars. She covered her shoes with her hands to dull the blinking, peering around for someone. She spotted you holding a bag of flour and asked if you bake. Her eyes lit up when you confirmed that you do.
She’s been on a tangent about her father, who you assume she’s hiding from, for ten minutes now. From what you’re able to gather, he works in the military.
Unwilling to dampen her excitement, you crouch down and listen to every word. “Is that so, little one?” you say, propping your chin up with your hand.
She nods, brown strands flying everywhere. “Mhmm. And he’s super handsome, too! A lady called him a dill, but Daddy’s not a pickle! She was so silly.”
Your eyes widen, and you slap a hand over your mouth to barricade the gurgle in your throat. A fucking DILL. You don’t have the heart to correct her. Correction: You’re too busy trying not to collapse on the floor in a fit of laughter. The misunderstanding is best left alone, but your curiosity is piqued. What does this man look like?
“Rose!” A voice booms from the other end of the aisle, and the child hides behind you. You stand up and shield her with your body, eying the stranger with a frown. Brown hair with silver streaks, and his eyes—fuck, you wish the sky would be that blue instead of grey. He approaches you two, and when Rose makes no further movements, you stick your arm out to block him.
“Who are you?” you ask. He must be at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders, and built like he could beat you into a bloody pulp if he wanted.
He mirrors your frown, eyes flickering to the brown hair peeking behind your figure. “I should be asking you that. Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter?”
You narrow your eyes. “How do I know you’re not some pervert who kidnaps children?”
He chuckles; the low rumble sends the butterflies rampaging against your stomach walls. “Sweetheart, I could say the same about you,” and he crosses his arms—his thick and muscular arms. The way his biceps bulge underneath his sweater…. You bite your lip. The metallic tang in your mouth grounds you. You swipe a tongue across the fresh wound, and the sting helps you regain a few brain cells.
Turning to Rose, you ask, “Is this your dad?” and squeeze her hands. “You can tell me if it isn’t, and we’ll find a nice employee to help you.” You talk slowly, enunciating each word with care. Rose glances at the man behind you before settling on your face.
She cups her hands around her mouth, and you lean in, her warm breath tickling your ear. “Yeah, that’s my dad. What do you think? Super handsome, right?” she whispers. You glance at him and huff. A fucking dill, indeed.
“Rosy, stop bothering the nice stranger,” her father says, gesturing for her to come to him. She skips over and fails to dodge his hand. Rose groans and buries her face into her father’s stomach as he ruffles her hair. You avert your eyes and ignore the heat that prickles the back of your neck. Wringing your hands, you stare at the floor as their laughter echoes in the aisle. You hardly know these people. Plus his wife must be somewhere in the store, ready to pop out at any second.
“The ‘stranger’ has a name,” you speak up, introducing yourself. You keep your eyes trained on the shelf of sprinkles above his right shoulder as if the plastic bottles of sugar will stop you from falling.
He holds out a hand for you to shake. “John, John Price.” Firm warmth envelopes your skin and dissipates far too quickly for your liking. Sparks of electricity fizzle before they get a chance to light your nerves on fire—and you want to burn.
“Heh, P as in Pickle,” you snicker, making the mistake of meeting his gaze. Your arm drops to your side, and your bones turn to lead. The sky must be grey because all the blue was stolen and contained in his eyes. There’s no coldness, no ice, only calm ripples of water. The gentle drag of the ocean as the waves lap against the shore, inviting you into its depths.
John raises a brow. “An odd observation, but yes.” He smooths Rose’s hair to no avail. Baby hairs and cowlicks in all different directions are a continuous reminder that he’s been meaning to learn how to style hair.
Rose beams at him with her toothy grin. “Cause Daddy’s a dill!” she adds.
John’s confused expression quickly morphs into one of horror. “Where did you hear that?!” He narrows his eyes at you.
You throw your hands up in surrender. “Don’t look at me. This is the first time we’ve met.”
Rose tugs on his shirt and says, “That lady who used to babysit me. She also called you a fox, but I told her you’re a man.” Your eyes widen, and your shoulders tremble. John runs a hand through his graying hair, and you rip your gaze away because witnessing that felt illegal. Every time you look at him you notice another thing that attracts you.
John sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about her. I love Rose, but she can be a handful at times,” he says, whispering the second half. His head tilts forward, and now all you can focus on is how his moustache frames his mouth. Plump and pink.
Your lips crook upwards in a slant. “It’s not a problem. She’s an entertaining conversationalist.” You find yourself drawing nearer to his face, wandering from the shore and deeper into the ocean—oblivious to the current that will pull you under.
Rose tugs on your shirt and asks, “Why don’t you join us for dinner?” You pull away with a sharp inhale, processing how John’s eyes flicker to your lips. The little girl gazes at you with a hopeful smile, but you look to her father for confirmation.
“Rose, you can’t invite people you barely know to your home,” he reprimands, and her smile flatlines. It’s probably for the best. At the current pace, it’s like you’re in a sappy romance novel! John shoots you an apologetic smile, but you wave your hand and shake your head in understanding.
Rose pouts and stares at her shoes. She shuffles her feet, and the lights twinkle with each tap. “But then there’ll be someone who can bake cookies,” she says, looking up at him with puppy eyes. John winces.
You notice him wracking his brain for a response and decide to help him. “They sell rolls of sugar cookie dough; next to the puff pastry,” and you jerk a thumb behind you. Sometimes you buy a roll or two when you feel particularly lazy but crave cookies.
John mouths a “Thank you” and holds Rose’s hand. “C’mon, rosebud. Let’s buy some, and you can make your candy cane cookies.”
Rose perks up at the mention of cookies, her shoes now fighting to match the brightness of her eyes. “Wow! They sell everything here!” She drags him to the pre-made dough section. Well, she tries to drag him. Rose is less than half her father’s size. It reminds you of those cartoon characters that try to move a comically large boulder. Blue eyes meet your gaze one last time and wink at you.
Did. Did he just?
You stand there, unblinking, staring at the corner they disappeared behind.
Holy fucking shit. He did.
You don’t register going through the checkout and packing your things in the car. With a blink, you’re in front of the steering wheel, key in hand. Where were you...? Home. You were on your way home. Slotting the key in the ignition, you start the engine and begin the drive home. For once, the clouds have gone, and the world mocks you with its clear skies. You don’t think you can stand to look at the colour blue for a while. It’s a good thing you’re sitting right now.
The drive itself is unremarkable. You go through the same streets, pass the same buildings, pull into the same parking lot, and park in your usual spot next to a truck. You admire the muscular arm resting on said truck window. Funny. Guess that sweater is popular around here. Large hands run through brown hair flecked with grey—John.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You creep out of your car and circle around to the apartment building, abandoning your groceries.
Just a few feet. Just a few feet, and you’ll make it to the door. Conscious of your steps, you slink across the pavement and concrete. You wrap your hand around the handle, and the tension bleeds from your shoulders.
“Are you playing hide and seek, too?” a voice from below asks. You jerk and pull the door instead of pushing. A loud rattle echoes in the vicinity. Who decided it was a good idea to make doors out of glass? A sadist who likes to watch people open doors incorrectly, that’s who. You glance down. Long lashes frame blue eyes that stare into your soul. Your fingers itch to adjust the cowlick in the disarray of her hair. You spot a few leaves clinging to her locks. Was she hiding by that bush beside you?
“Are you hiding from your dad?” you ask Rose, scooting behind the potted plant when she beckons you closer.
Rose shrugs and peeks around you. “Daddy was taking too long. I’m waiting to see when he’ll notice I left.”
Your brows pinch together. “That’s not safe, Rose. You should stick close to him. What if something bad happens to you?”
“Don’t worry, I have a lot of uncles, and they taught me how to beat up baddies!” She punches the air a few times. Her face pulls tight in concentration before loosening into a grin. She shrinks behind the bush and brings a finger to her lips.“Now shhh, we have to be quiet.”
Boots thud against the pavement, the strides between each step growing shorter. “Rosy! Where did you run off to this time?” There’s a divet to his tone beneath the loudness, like the warning tremors of an avalanche. “I need to put that girl on a leash.” There’s a smile in his tone, but it stretches taut like a rubber band, ready to snap and whiplash you with his increasing agitation. He runs a hand down his face and sighs, eyes darting across the rows of cars.
You can’t watch this any longer. You move to reveal yourself, but Rose beats you to it. She tiptoes behind her father, giving up halfway and slamming herself into him.
“Boo!” Rose screams, voice muffled by his shirt.
John stares at Rose and shouts half a second later. “Ah!” Half a second too late.
Rose pulls away with a sullen frown. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”
John crouches down and pets her hair. “No, no, rosebud. Was so afraid I forgot how to talk,” he insists.
Rose gives him a scrutinizing look. “Liar,” she pouts. John leans in and whispers something into her ear, scratching her smooth cheek with his beard. She giggles and squirms, pushing his face away with both her hands. He deliberately rubs their cheeks together, and it causes her to laugh harder.
Once again, you’re watching the two of them from afar. Heat pricks your skin, and your gaze steers toward the door. You should be able to slip unnoticed if you’re quiet. Standing up, you wince as your joints pop. You might as well hang a giant neon sign to denote your presence.
John’s voice glues your feet to the ground. “Let’s bring everything inside, then you can bake your cookies,” he says. You press your back against the wall and exhale through your nose. No big deal. You just need to wait until they head inside first. Your palms dig into the stony material of the building. As if with enough force, you’ll be able to reorganize your atoms and disappear into the walls to escape dying from embarrassment.
“I have a surprise for you, Daddy!” Rose’s voice draws nearer.
You are a wall. A silent, still, and formidable wall.
“Did you find another pretty stone?” John asks, tone laced with amusement.
You close your eyes, but the ocean will not leave you alone. The waves lap at your feet on the shore, and you shrink away. Stone presses hard into your back.
They won’t find you. They’ll walk past you and go inside. Your erratic heartbeat fragments your thoughts into mismatched puzzle pieces. You can’t think with all this drumming and adrenaline.
“It’s pretty, but it’s not a stone.” Rose runs up to you and tugs you from your hiding spot. “A special guest for dinner!” she presents you like a prized animal. You stumble, and your eyes snap open in fear of hitting the ground. Strong arms rush forward to steady you. You lift your head, and your mouth dries.
Cerulean eyes pull you into their depths, crinkles forming at their edges. John’s accent caresses your ears, and you tamp down the unintelligible noise that threatens to destroy your last shred of dignity. “I didn’t know you lived here too,” and the corners of his lips twitch.
You force your tongue to articulate, the words scraping like sandpaper up your throat. “Neither did I—that you also lived here! Cause I know that I live here because I live here!” A shaky laugh warbles out of you. “I wasn’t following you because that would be creepy—and I’m going to shut up now.” You seal your lips together before you can dig a deeper hole for yourself. His hands are still on you, fingers wrapped around your arms. Your blood sings at the contact.
“Do you think Daddy’s handsome?” Rose blurts out. Flames lick your skin, and your mouth becomes reminiscent of a goldfish.
John’s fingers dig into your arms, and it’s not until you flinch that his hands drop to his sides. “That’s not a polite question, Rose,” he rumbles. It’s low, a warning. But when you’re a kid, you’re not afraid of anything.
Rose places her hands on her hips. “But you were like this in the car on the way home too! And when I asked you what was wrong, you told me I was too young to understand. I’m not stupid, Daddy. I’m six.” She stomps on ‘six.’ And you watch as this little girl brings this burly man to his knees.
John sighs, “Not here, Rose. Please.”
But Rose refuses to yield. “Why not? You both like each other, so why can’t we have dinner together?” she asks.
John rubs the back of his neck, the muscles in his arms flexing. “Would you like to join us tonight?” he asks, eyes flickering between your face and the parking lot behind you.
“I’m afraid Rose will kidnap me if I don’t say yes,” you joke.
Rose grumbles, “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it out loud.” She grabs your hand and tugs you to the entrance. “Daddy can bring the groceries inside. I want to show you my toys!”
You dig your heels into the ground and say, “I need to bring my things inside as well. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Rose’s smile falters, and she reluctantly lets you go.
“Don’t worry, Love. I can take care of that for ya,” John offers
You fidget with the keys in your pocket. “Are you sure?” You’re not worried about him stealing your car. He can’t exactly hide if you two live in the same building. Besides, you want to believe that the kindness in his eyes is genuine.
“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” he reaffirms.
“Ok,” and you hand him your car keys. His fingertips graze your palm, and you shiver. God, you’re pathetic. Rose tugs on your arm, and you trail after her. She leads you up a few flights of stairs before stopping on the third floor, where you also live. Except she walks to the opposite end of the hallway, away from your apartment. She pulls a key out of her pocket and unlocks the door.
Rose drops your hand and runs inside, returning with a stuffed animal in her arms. “This is Mr. Bear. Daddy got him for me!” Mr. Bear is wearing tactical gear and a bucket hat. Frayed threads stick out of his body along the seams, and small patches of fur have fallen out. She cradles the stuffed animal close to her chest and rests her chin atop his head.
You nearly melt on the spot. “That’s very sweet of him,” you say.
“Sometimes, when I miss him, I just need to squeeze Mr. Bear tight.” She gives you a demonstration.
A familiar warm timbre greets your ears.“I love you, rosebud.”
You grin and say, “Your dad reminds me of a bear.”
“Yeah! He’s big and cuddly. But his face turned red when I told him,” Rose mumbles the last part. She straightens up and tugs on your arm. “Oh! And these are my action figures!”
You walk into what you assume is her bedroom. It’s not as chaotic as you thought it would be. Her bed is in one corner of the room, with a collection of stuffies sitting along one side. There’s a shelf with knickknacks and picture frames. Your eyes land on a photo of John holding a small bundle in his arms. It looks like the picture was taken without him knowing. His eyes are wide, staring at the tiny hand wrapped around his thumb.
There’s something that’s been bothering you, but you don’t think it’s your place to ask. Rose startles you when she starts barking out, “Hold your fire! We can’t alert the enemy of our whereabouts!” You whip around to see her sitting on the ground with a mini soldier in each hand. The large tub behind her is open, the lid propped neatly against its side. You sit next to her and watch the ‘mission’ play out. She hands you a soldier and assigns you the special position of super spy. Now a successful job rests on your shoulders.
Thanks to Captain Rose, your team retrieves the files, returning without a single casualty. Although you had a close encounter with the enemy’s Captain Pickles, which began some sort of enemies-to-lovers arc. You don’t know. She’s six. She reasoned that the power of love triumphs over all. Rose begins cleaning up, setting the toys neatly in the bin before snapping the lid shut.
“Did you learn all that from your dad?” you ask.
Rose shrugs and picks up Mr. Bear. “Daddy never tells me anything about work. It’s classified. Sometimes I watch TV. There’s a show where one of the characters looks just like him, but Nana doesn’t let me watch much 'cause it’s not for kids.” Dear lord. Could you imagine being sandwiched between two Johns??
“Rosy? Want to bake your cookies now?” John shouts from the corridor, snapping you out of your fantasy.
“Yes, please!” Rose replies. She grabs your hand and gives you a toothy grin. “You can be my assistant. Daddy’s hopeless at baking.” She leads you to the kitchen, where some bowls and a tray are on the table. Rose lets go and skips to a seat, plopping herself down. Mr. Bear is seated on the chair next to her.
You sit at her other side and ask, “What kind of cookies are we making?” There are no cookie cutters in sight to give you a clue.
Rose clasps her hands together. Her feet swing beneath the table. “Candy Canes! Santa will be so impressed that he’ll grant my wish for sure,” she answers.
You don’t know what a six-year-old would ask from Santa, but you sincerely hope it’s fulfilled. Perusing the items on the table, you notice a vital ingredient missing. “Do you have food dye?” you ask.
Rose strokes her chin. She hops off her chair and walks up to John. “Daddy, do we have any food dye?”
John’s head peeks out from behind the fridge door. “Sorry, Rosy. I don’t remember,” and there’s a sheepish grin on his face.
Rose hums and grabs a stool, tottering to the drawers. “I forgot. You went away for a while. I think Nana left some the last time we baked.” Your eyes snap to the fridge when you hear a thud. An apple rolls across the floor and stops near your feet. You pick up the fruit, thumb brushing over the bruise blooming underneath its skin. “I found red!” Rose waves a small bottle in her hand and dashes to show you.
You set the apple on the table and praise Rose. Her chest puffs up, and the smile she gives you is dazzling. She hops onto her seat, clutching the bottle to her chest.
John walks up to you two. “Here’s the dough,” and he holds out the cylindrical tube but changes his mind and leaves it on the table. The only seats left are the ones across. He picks the spot in front of you.
“Thanks.” You snap the tube open and remove the packaging. “Alright, Rose. We split the dough in half, and you’ll colour one part red.”
Rose cocks her head to the side. “We don’t paint the cookies?”
You shake your head and say, “There’s an easier way to make them look like candy canes.” You hand Rose a wooden spoon and tell her to mix the dough while you add the dye. Once half the dough is red, you take equal parts from both bowls and roll them into noodles. Putting them together, you twist them to form a cane. You curve one end, and the result is a near-perfect replica of a candy cane. Rose marvels at the sight, face inches from the table’s surface.
There’s a streak of food colouring on her face, and you grab a tissue for her. She’s engrossed in the cookie, picking it up and turning it over. Out of impulse, you wipe the stain on her cheek and her laughter tinkles throughout the room. She complains about being ticklish between her giggles. A low sigh draws your attention. You look over to John, who’s watching you with his head propped up with his hand. “What? Do I have something on my face?” you ask.
There’s a softness to John’s features. He looks at you like you’re holding his heart in your hands, squeezing the pulsating organ with every cookie you form. “Do good looks count?” It’s barely audible, but you hear it. His elbow slips from the table, and he clears his throat. “Just been a while since I’ve seen her so happy.” He folds his arms across the table, a wall of muscle to create a false sense of distance.
You gesture your head at Rose. “Make a cookie with her; have fun together.”
John stares at the table, stroking his chin in a familiar fashion, but remains silent otherwise. You chew on the inside of your cheek and resume forming the cookies. The squeal of wood scraping against wood pricks your ears. John squeezes himself into the space between you and Rose. His shoulders brush against you, and he is radiating heat. “What have you got there, Rosy?” he asks.
Rose looks at him with furrowed brows. “A candy cane, silly. Here, I’ll show you how to make it,” she answers. Rose does a quick demonstration, but John still struggles. Somehow he’s managed to mix the parts to create pink. Rose shakes her head, lips tugging into a frown. “My hands are too small; can you help him?” She turns to you. Long lashes frame her doe eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to say no.
You glance at John to find he’s staring at you. Shifting in your seat, you say, “If you don’t mind…?”
John maintains eye contact. “I’m all yours,” and the smile he gives you is bashful. You fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks, but it’s like trying to douse a flame with gasoline. The heat intensifies, and you grab a tissue to wipe your clammy hands, muttering an excuse about the dye staining your skin.
You focus on the table, resisting the temptation to turn your head and meet the gaze burning into your face. “You take equal parts of each dough and roll them into logs.” You pause to make sure he’s following along. “Once they’re the same size, you can twist them together to form a cane.” John is about to mush his cookie as children tend to do with playdough; always mixing the colours. You grab his hands to stop him. His fingers twitch against your palms, but he doesn’t recoil. “Like this,” and you twist your cookie, rolling it some more to flatten the cane.
“You make it sound so easy,” John huffs.
You shrug your shoulders. “It’s not too bad once you get the hang of it.”
John shakes his head. “Give me a pistol, and I can field strip and reassemble in a few minutes.” He holds up a warped cookie. “This, this I can’t do.”
You bump your shoulders together. “I’ll have you baking like a pro.”
John grins; it’s boyish and charming—it pulls you in like a flower reaching for a ray of sunlight. “Is that a promise?” he asks, lashes framing an expanse of blue. And once again, you are hopelessly lost at sea.
“Only if you’ll invite me over again,” you quip.
“Is this flirting?” Rose asks. Her head pops up behind John’s shoulder. “If Daddy won’t invite you, I will.”
You smile as John buries his face in his hands. “Thank you, Rose,” you say.
She returns the gesture with a wide grin. “You’re very welcome.”
You continue making the cookies in silence, gaslighting yourself into thinking that the numerous brushes against your hand are accidental. 7/10 times you’re grabbing something, John also happens to be reaching for the same item. The cookie under your palm flattens into a pancake when his body leans ever-so-slightly into yours. Thankfully this is the last cookie, and you place it on the baking tray with the rest.
Rose insists on putting the tray into the oven herself, and John watches her like a hawk, hovering behind her in case he needs to step in.
Once John’s certain the apartment won’t burst into flames, he rolls up his sleeves. You eye the veins along his arms as subtly as you can, wincing like a child caught in the act of misbehaving when John speaks. “Can you please help Rose clean up? I need to get started on dinner,” he asks.
“Yes, Chef,” and you give a mock salute. “Alright, Rose. I’ll wash all the dishes in the sink. Can you wipe the counter?” you ask her.
Rose straightens her back and nods. “Affirmative,” she replies, marching to grab a towel.
You begin collecting the bowls and utensils, plugging the drain afterwards to fill up the sink. A few drops of soap and a mountain of suds form. With a sponge, you begin scrubbing away at bits of dried-up dough and red dye. In the corner of your eye, Rose is reprimanding Mr. Bear on how he needs to pull his weight too and that it doesn’t matter if he’s not heavy because he’s full of stuffing.
“You’ve got an adorable soldier,” you say, turning your head to John, who’s heating a pan on the stove.
John watches Rose with deep affection. Those are the eyes of a man staring at the purpose of his existence. “She’s a trooper, alright,” and the smile on his face is lax.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” you ask, adding more soap to your sponge. The remaining traces of dye are giving you grief.
“Fish and chips; one of Rosy’s favourites,” John answers.
“Daddy makes the best!” Rose pipes up.
John shakes his head, and the base of his neck flushes. “She’s exaggerating,” he says.
You smirk, “I’ll be the judge of that.” The chuckle your words elicit from John fills you with a pleasant buzz.
“I have to warn you. I aim to please,” and the lilt in John’s voice encourages you further.
“Yes, you certainly look the type,” you say, eyes trailing up and down his figure. John’s body trembles under your gaze. “Is it just you and Rose here?” You don’t know if he’s divorced, but you don’t recall seeing a ring on his finger.
“She’s dead,” John says. Concise and well-practiced. The plate in your hand slips and splashes into the sink with a thud, shattering the silence. You look over at John, but his back is to you. Shoulders hunched and head low. “Died during childbirth,” he adds, and the slight wobble churns your stomach. You should have known. Should have guessed from how the pictures on the walls only contain two subjects. Rose only ever talks about her father and grandparents. How could you be so fucking blind?
You crush the sponge in your hands, and bubbles seep out between your fingers. An apology is on the tip of your tongue, straining under the weight of your rapid thoughts. Day one, and you’ve already stepped on a mine. A phantom pain aches in your chest, grieving the loss of a love you never had in the first place. John says nothing. Continues to fry the fish in silence. Pops of oil like the rounds of a machine gun, but not loud enough to drown out the hammering of your heart.
Rose breaks the silent war. “I cleaned the counter. Can I check on the cookies?” she asks.
The apology dies on your tongue, and you tear your eyes away from John’s back, missing how the tension bleeds from his body. “Of course,” you say, placing the last dish on the drying rack. “Do you know how?”
“Nana showed me the buttons because I accidentally turned off the oven before,” Rose replies. She hands you her towel, and you lump it in the sink with yours. Rose walks up to the oven, and John moves to the side. You hang back, grappling with the temptation to steal a glance. You’re not sure what’s worse: John catching you staring or the disappointment of him not staring back. In the end, you decide to focus on Rose. She awes at the cookies and beckons you closer. You shuffle towards her, sticking close to the opposite side.“We should leave extra for the reindeer and elves who want some too!”
You smile and pat her head. “Next time you can buy peppermint extract so they’ll taste like candy canes too!” you suggest. Rose’s eyes widen. She looks at you like you have the biggest brain in the world. Your confidence skyrockets, but a quick peek at John sends you plummeting back to Earth. You can’t read the expression on his face, and it worries you.
“They look so good! Santa will definitely grant my wish!” Rose’s comment piques your interest.
“What’s your wish?” you ask, crouching down to her level.
Rose glances at her father before lowering her voice. “I can’t tell you with Daddy around; it might make him sad.” Your jaw slackens. What could a child wish for that would make their parents unhappy?
Dinner is served, and the seating arrangement remains unchanged. True to John’s words, Rose devours her dinner. She even asks for seconds. “I’m a growing girl,” is all she responds with when she notices your amused expression.
The conversation consists of small talk. You learn they moved into the complex two years after you did. It’s honestly amazing how you didn’t run into them earlier. John doesn’t talk about his job, but he asks you plenty of questions about yours. You’re happy to answer. Glad to have something to talk about that won’t prod old wounds. Before you know it, you’re cracking jokes, and John is struggling to breathe. His laughter is intoxicating, and like an addict, you crave another dose. Rose watches the entire interaction with a broad smile, nibbling on her food as her eyes ping pong across the table.
John leans forward and hangs off your every word. Every ounce of his attention focused solely on you. You pause mid-story, caught up in the softness of his features. Before he can ask you what’s wrong, your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull out the device to see it’s a text notification. The time on the screen reads 9:30 pm. It’s getting late, and from the way Rose slumps in her chair, she should be in bed soon.
“I should go. Rose looks like she’s about to pass out,” you say.
“M’not sleepy,” Rose argues, rubbing her eyes.
John rises from his seat. “I’ll clean up. Rosy, why don’t you say goodbye to our guest?”
Rose gets out of her chair with Mr. Bear and holds your hand, leading you to the entrance. John steps forward but stops himself. He turns to collect the dishes, and you walk away, feeling the heat of his gaze lingering on your back.
As you’re slipping on your shoes, you ask Rose, “Now that it’s just us, do you want to tell me your wish?” She glances behind her. The faint sounds of porcelain clattering against metal travel along the corridor.
“You can’t tell Daddy, but I don’t want him to be lonely. He doesn’t cry at night anymore when he thinks I’m sleeping, but he still looks like a raccoon in the morning,” Rose says, pinching an invisible zipper between her fingers and dragging it across her lips. You copy the gesture and even go as far as to mime turning a key and tossing it over your shoulder. You have a sneaking suspicion, but you don’t want to get your hopes up.
Unlocking the door, you reach for the doorknob. “Wait,” John shouts, stopping you in your tracks. He jogs up to you and holds out a reusable takeout container and your bag of groceries. “I made too much. Take some leftovers with you.” You peer inside, and there’s a generous portion. How much did he cook?
“I’m tired. I’m getting ready for bed,” Rose suddenly announces.
John chuckles, “I thought you weren’t tired earlier?”
“That was earlier. I’m tired now.” Rose walks off to her room, mumbling to Mr. Bear. The only snippet you catch is something about ‘having a moment.’ You take the container and bag from John, fingertips touching. He doesn’t let go, and you’re left standing there awkwardly.
“Don’t feel bad about what happened earlier,” John says, withdrawing his hands and shoving them into his pockets.
Earli—oh. Your cheeks tingle with warmth. You clear your throat and bring the container close to your chest. “I didn’t mean to pry, I just wanted….” You pause.
“Wanted what?” John asks, and his eyes are wide and pleading. He waits and doesn’t push. Watches as you chew on the inside of your cheek and avoid his gaze.
When you finally gather the courage to look at his face, tender eyes observe you. Does he feel the same? A wave of confidence washes over you, and you decide to take the risk. “To know if I have a fighting chance,” you say.
The corners of John’s lips boomerang up and then back down. His eyebrows draw together, and he almost looks… scared. “Love, I work in the military. I’m a single father. I don’t have much to offer,” John rasps, the words constricting his chest like a vine of thorns. His throat bobs, and he closes his eyes, steeling his body. Because bracing for impact is a natural human response in an attempt to lessen the damage of an imminent crash.
You smile softly. “And if I said I didn’t mind? That I’ll wait for you to come back and become Rose’s favourite while you’re gone?” John’s eyes snap open wide. He stares at you like you’re some sort of mythical creature; a being that can’t possibly exist in this world. Here is a man with his own baggage, who carries a burden on his shoulders that you will never comprehend. And you want to learn how to love him anyway. His expression softens, and he gravitates toward you.
“When I saw how you handle Rose, I didn’t think I could like you more than I already do,” John says.
Your ears perk. “You like me?” you ask. You didn’t think the attraction went both ways.
John rubs the back of his neck, and his cheeks flush. “Might have seen you use the elevator a few times… regularly,” he confesses. “I’ve liked you for a while.”
“And you never tried to say hello?” you tease him, placing a hand on your hip. The pain that flashes across his face is brief, but it stops you from continuing. You decide to change the topic. “Can I kiss you goodbye?” Your face engulfs in flames. “On the cheek, I mean!”
The pink dusting John’s face darkens. “Only if I get to kiss you—on the forehead,” he clarifies.
“Deal.” You place a quick peck on John’s cheek, his skin an inferno against your lips. He cups your face and leans in. It’s soft and leaves you tingling from head to toe. A laugh bubbles in your chest. You slap a hand to cover the dopey grin spreading across your face. “Sorry. I'm just really happy.”
John’s thumb caresses your cheeks. His blue eyes are sparkling. “So am I, Darling. Goodnight,” he says, leaning forward to plant another kiss. You close your eyes and make a content hum, basking in his warmth.
John opens the door for you and leans against the doorframe after you step out. The hallway is relatively dark, and the lights from the apartment bathe him in an ethereal glow. A smile graces his features, and the current that threatened to pull you under has settled into gentle ripples. “Night, John,” you reply, waving goodbye.
A smug grin stretches his smile, and he winks at you. “See ya later, Love.”
You skip to your apartment. The door behind you doesn’t click shut until you disappear from sight. You head to the fridge first to store the leftovers. You find a note when you put away your groceries. Fishing out the paper, it reads: ‘Rose’s bedtime is 10 pm.’
The clock on your stovetop tells you it’s 9:50.
Where did you put that expensive bottle of whiskey you bought years ago?
Bonus Scene:
John tucks his daughter into bed, pulling the blanket to her chin. “What else did you wish for, Rosy?” he asks. It’s become a tradition to figure out her Christmas present. He makes sure to ask her right before bed when he’s certain she won’t remember the conversation in the morning.
Rose snuggles into her pillow, hugging the stuffed bear close to her chest. Her voice is muffled and thick with sleepiness, but he hears it crystal clear. “A little sister.”
─── ⋆ ｡ﾟ☆: *. ☽ .* :☆ﾟ｡⋆ ───
End Note:
Happy early Valentine's Day! I can't wait to consume the Valentine-themed content for all the fandoms I'm in. Not related, but I saw a cowboy ghost render on IG and I think I'm going to have to go back to writing something for him ¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)_/¯
Time to drop off the face of the Earth for a month or two again.
I'll see you guys at my next hyperfixation! (。・∀・)ノ
Reblogs are appreciated!
#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#john price#captain john price#cod x reader#cod mwii#single dad price#gender neutral reader#no y/n#And they were apartmentmates!#I will update the tags with something funnier once my brain isn't mush
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Fellow autistics or sensitive skin babez please I need to know (buckle up this gon' be a long one):
Have you found that your skin has gotten more intolerant as you age or have I just been masking how in pain i am for like the majority of my life out in public wearing normal people clothes??
I just had to go out grocery shopping etc with stockings on under my (what would have otherwise been super comfy) sweat shorts (the blue Pantone ones from Boohoo, oh how I love them) bc I hadn't shaved in a few weeks and didnt want to put the public eye thru that lol (idc what other people want to do with their body hair, just do what makes you feel happy but I admit I just can't fully shed the social conditioning I grew up with to keep my own legs and pits hairless if they're gonna be on show) - and it was somewhat excruciatingly itchy at first and I don't think it truly died down, but with all the distractions of shopping etc I did kinda get used to/forget about it a little. But as soon as I got home at the soonest possible moment I changed back into pjs, one of the only type of clothing my skin can handle anymore.
So yeah I've either lived a whole life in pain/discomfort, spending a lot of energy and distractions masking it until I was used to feeling horrible all the time (I used to wear predominantly tight clothes for a large portion of my life), or my skin has gotten less tolerant as I suspect.
Or do we just grow less apt at masking our discomfort as we age?
Younger autistics please bear in mind - and I'm not really even THAT old yet but I am a decade+ older than teenage years now - well, when I was growing up I feel like it generally wasn't "cool" to be autistic?? Or any kind of neurodivergent, unless you count emos bc a lot of us were depressed and it was made a cool thing but i feel like people weren't getting disagnosed/the help we needed, instead self-harm was trendy etc, it was kinda problematic af. and I feel like most of us went undiagnosed (for a lot of issues, actually), especially women and other afab. And now we're just trying to get our struggles recognized/a name for our struggles and failure to be "normal" all these years, and maybe even some bloody help for it, rather than being told we don't matter bc we're "over the hill" now or something and only kids struggle with autism? Lol
Do any kiwis have affordable suggestions for pants I can buy that don't look like pyjamas? If I could cut damn Polyester and the likes out of my life for pure fabrics I would in a heartbeat, but it's not so easy.
The best pants I ever wore were my first pair of Peter Alexander (summer) pj pants - which I still have and are still intact, but can barely fit - back before the brand's quality went to complete shit (granted I have a few pieces that are great, but it's really hit and miss if you will actually get what you bought in one piece/without defects. I finally decided it's not worth it to buy Peter Alexander anywhere near full price. They're good with refunds but the quality control is like worse than Shein/Temu).
Those pants were 100% cotton and idk how they did it but they were like heaven in a fabric and I wished I could just wear them everywhere. Honestly felt like the first time I wasn't in any pain or discomfort at all wearing bottoms.*
Apologies this turned into a ramble with several tangents (even a brand review) but maybe it resonates with someone out there and hopefully it brings me some answers in time
Thanks for reading if you got this far <3 now I'd better tag some trigger warnings etc and then it's time to finally nap, feeling sick again after all the activity
*ok so as this ramble developed, it sparked a tangent ramble (rambleception), and another ramble on top of that, which I felt needed to be their own posts. Will link them below once posted:
[Tangent ramble 1] [Tangent ramble 2]
#actually autistic#autistic#afab autistic#afab autism#autism in women#ageing autistic#sensitive skin#highly sensitive#disability#schizospec#tagging schizospec just in case it's a schizospec thing#tw self harm mention#tw sh mention#self-harm mention#late diagnosed autistic#sensory issues#rambling#schizospec rambling#thinking out loud#Rachel rambles#harmful beauty standards#beauty standards#autistic masking#90s kid#old school emo#2000s emo#2000s emo things#autism struggles#the autistic struggle is real#the struggle is real
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I’ve keep thinking about one of your tags, specifically the “self fulfilling prophecy a display of a true role of an ianitee” and I would love for you to go into that!
if I may, I’d like to give my understanding of that and you can tell me how far off base it is.
With Redbeard it’s him thinking something will always go wrong around him whether he causes it or not. He chalks it up to his “natural unluckiness” and puts little effort to fox said issues. If we go to Capsize’s death, she gets threatened and he stands and does little to stop it. He crashes the first airship and brushes it off, he actively heavily drinks during the mission, like he for some of it causes his own misfortune.
For Jordan, it’s being alone within his faith. (This one I’m a bit shakey on cause I don’t think I have a good footing when it comes to his character.) He wants community but he does not find it with the pirates. Specifically with Capsize. Back to Capsizes death, he also doesn’t jump in to stop Furia from killing Capsize. Both Andor and Capsize end up getting imprisoned in-front of the group, although the reason why is different (to my memory) he doesn’t jump in to save either. He does find community with Andor though! But he’s now separated from him, so once again he’s alone.
Idk what Spark or Capsizes problem is, wish I did though. They probably have tons.
OH
ok im sorry Im so late in responding Im gonna be honest. I completely forgot initially what I was thinking about when I made that tag but its finally come back to me ok. ok.
Basically what I think I was referring to in the concept of a
'self fufilling propechy; filling the role of an ianitee" is the kind of idea that champions of Ianite, or gods in general are tied to their deity in not just a follower kind of way, but like in a metaphysical manner- like where the principle of whomever they end up following are somewhat built into their characterization, and in the way worked into the fibers of their soul. Its present with the other gods/followers but its really interesting with the ianitees I think.
It may not necessarily be intentional or conscious on the part of the follower but essentially their morals, actions and the foundations of relationships are centered around what aspects the god stands for, and sort of act like a compass for them. So like in Capsize's case, I had interpreted Cat's post as like even though Capsize was born the "luckier" of the twins- aside from her name being that of a literal disaster- a lot of her actions to me take on a very heavy kine selflessness, putting herself at risk for like Red, doing things that would put her in a place of misfortune almost as a protective maneuver for others which I could almost call to be her fatal flaw. She has to be balanced in nature somehow to counter feeling like she's stolen Red's luck (from Cat's post, that line is driving me nuts in the best way), and that's how she does it.
And like, what you were saying with Jordan, his seeking of balance comes in surface level playing mediator between Tom and Tucker but like in a subconscious way (at least how i interpret it haha) its more got to do with yeah, like community. Jordan, as a character to me is very tied to the idea of home/closeness/familiarity, which ties into the lighthouse metaphor I like to cite between him and Tom (essay for another day before I go on yet another tangent), and his evolving relationship with the others over the course of the series. He, by nature is really drawn to carving his own path (i mean the man fully invents his own ass god) and has like an ambition that tends to isolate him from others (I haven't forgotten jokes in other SMPs about his house always being so far away from everyone else) but what he really craves, in needing to adhere to some kind of balance is closeness, a safe familiar place to rest his head, a lack of separation that he always ends up wanting to fully lean towards, but because of this balance thing- he can't have all of one or the other.
Spark I think follows a similar pattern to Jordan, and as a result as do Andor and Martha (albeit in different ways I'll try to speak on but I don't spend much time with their characters aside from the fact that especially in Ruxomar where Ianitees are kind of othered (cough queer metaphor, this is not an original thought but it makes so much sense) that to counter this oppression of their beliefs they too seek out community which is why Andor and Jordan get on so well.
Because Spark grew up with something different and we don't get much canoncially of him, its a little harder to analyze him, but if I had to give it a guess, I think his is moreso like he falls between two worlds in being the s/o of a literal goddess, that he feels an obligation to act as a mediator (as Jordan is), but rather between his two brothers-in-law, but instead between that of the immortal and mortal worlds, where like Capsize carries with him a protective nature to make them feel more in alignment. Essentially, in someway or another, giving agency and power to the mortal world and making the immortal world feel less distant and understandable/attuned to those who they rule. But its less a burden he chooses to carry, like a i must take control to bring this balance, and more a internal kind of responsibility to maintain his connections between both worlds, to keep himself together.
And Red, gods Red m8, I haven't dug too deep into him but I really like your take on him! Someone who I think is a really good example of how his unluckiness, rather than being something that unconsciously he wants to correct to find an internalized balance, instead has found a certain apathy to the notion that he was supposed to be the unlucky side of the twins, that i could almost say mans like found a neutral ground that way; sitting on a middle ground of having neither fortunate nor an unfortunate influence on the way things happen because either way he feels he'll only worsen it which. idk about you but Ouch That Hurts. Like he wants to strive for finding balance in having some type of influence of fortune, but its so out of reach he chooses instead to take a role of inaction
GAHHH theres so much brainrot that can come from this. I will be thinking about this forever. i hope i didnt fully just do the horribly misinterprets the characters LMAO any way. thank you for this
It eez what it eez TLDR; Ianitees come into the realm with an almost pre-determined alignment long before they consciously are aware of the goddess, a kind of self-fulflling that drives a lot of their emotional-moral compass in seeking a balance within them that gives them a role and purpose in the fabric of their characterization and relationships with others
#i once again am writing at like midnight bc thats when my brain seems to be able to think the most analytically i hope this makes sense LMAO#team ianite#mianite#character analysis#lafakiwi writes#mianite headcanon#its a lot also im sorry#i like. went on a lot of tangents as per usual#captain capsize#jordan captainsparklez#spark conway#i am not the andor man unfortunately and id feel bad trying to elaborate on the really cool brainrot ive seen from like chase and fern :'D#i think its along a similar thought pattern but i could be very wrong and i apologize for that#martha. man i dont know enough about her at all#idk feel free to add on! this is really just a massive braindump#asks#licantropa
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Tag 9 ppl you want to get to know better
tagged by @observethewalrus
First ship: I genuinely don’t know? And now that I’m realizing I don’t know I’m actually a tiny bit sad about that. I’d started writing things that can only be described as fanfiction long before I was old enough to be online and before we evolved past dial-up in my house & being on the computer became simple enough to not feel like a hassle anyway - which is all just to say that when I did wind up interacting with fannish communities later on, fanfic specifically wasn’t something totally new to me so I never had vivid memories of my first experiences of it. As a kid fanfic was what you basically had to do when you reached the end of any media you’d even somewhat enjoyed and the author rather rudely neglected to go on telling the story infinitely - so I think it must’ve been a while before shipping became a major thing on my radar, and it probably happened gradually. I do distinctly remember finding it a little ironic in high school that so much online/tumblr specific fandom was about shipping, and I was in multiple fandoms and had several ships, but I didn’t have any big passionate (or even non-canon & in need of defending) ships for my main fandom, which was always Doctor Who - though at the time, just nuwho. There, the only things I could be said to ship were pretty straightforward pairings like the Ponds, Doctor/River, Jack/Ianto, etc. - and I’m guessing whatever things I had that counted as ships before I got into fandom were similar to those, just a kind of passing approval of/investment in ships that were already well-established elements of their source material.
Three Ships: well Two/Jamie always (connected to the above tangent, I was involved in fandom for close to a decade before I came across them, but I’d never found cause to use the term otp before then), and at the moment the other ships taking up the next-most space in my brain are probably Ben/Polly and Geordi/Data
Last Song: Ruin by the Amazing Devil (I remember it playing as I drove home last night)
Last Movie: ah see I’m actually quite bad about watching movies/even remembering they exist. There’s a real possibility the most recent one was The Final Frontier, simply because I’ve been doing a long slow chronological trek through Star Trek, and I’m currently in the early 90s so I know I must have watched that one at some point in the last year or so, and more recently than any of the ones that came out before it
Currently Reading: Ok this I’m legitimately embarrassed about, because I’m not normally anywhere near this slow with books at all, and neither of these are bad, boring, or even slow-paced, it’s solely a matter of how horribly hectic & unpredictable my life’s been for the last few months - but I’ve been both near the end of Bare-Arsed Banditti and a couple hundred pages deep into The Two Towers since the end of August (I hate that fact so much but I need to admit it. It’s available information on my Storygraph account anyway it should not be so hard to say)
Currently Consuming: Twining’s Irish Breakfast tea, black. I am often consuming twining’s irish breakfast tea black
Currently Craving: a break - or maybe just routine in general? I’ve been doing a lot of overlapping freelance work lately: short-term projects that don’t last long enough to allow for anything like ‘time off’ & have all the busy-ness of full-time without any of the stability, which kinda feels like the worst of both worlds tbh. 2022 was a rough year for me for that in general, but it got especially bad in the fall & winter and I’m hoping to get a better handle on my own schedule in the next few weeks one way or another, but I’m sorry to anyone I’ve kinda ghosted in the interim
Tagging: @uighean @terryfphanatics @seismologically-silly and anybody else who wants to do it!
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Hello lorillee
What are ur top 3 favorite one piece arcs, and ur least favorite arc
well honestly my number one spot may be . a little controversial but im gonna have to hand it to dressrosa. did it have an egregious amount of plot devices? yes. do i care? no. not at all. not even a little bit. the birdcage gets exponentially funnier the more the powerscalers get mad about it.
but no in all seriousness dressrosa is honestly my favorite arc atm. this should honestly not come as a surprise because i am a noted law stan but like. man oda rlly knocked it out of the park. the character work and themes .... just. *chef's kiss*. spectacular. im not smart enough to make a proper analysis of it but everybody should go watch murphy napier's dressrosa videos. unfortunately as it goes the more i like something the less able i am to put anything into words so my brain largely goes "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
number two is... whole cake island! actually wci was my number one before i reached dressrosa on my watch of the anime (using one pace) but like. man . you know what? i love pudding. i love her story. i know everybody at the time wanted her to be a hash tag girled boss but i also really dont care. if she doesnt get a happy ending ill kill oda myself. like she is another character where girlbossifying her 1) makes her a much flatter and more boring character and 2) takes out one of the biggest lenses into the abuse happening in the charlotte family and just makes the whole thing all around a lot worse. also btw people who hate pudding will die by my hand.
ANWYAYS that aside. wci did like. sooo many things right. sanji got some massive character development and finally a break from the "haha pervert" gag oda had reduced like 70% of his scenes down to at that point and also his outfits during that arc... actually wait scratch that. EVERYBODY'S outfits during wci are top tier. thats a side tangent. anwyays. it also really beat into us just how absurdly powerful the yonko are. the musical scenes in the anime were top tier. carrot's existence. brook's existence. pedro was literally epic the whole time and like hes definitely dead and id be so mad if oda resurrected him but also like. you know. i mean.... i want to see him again ................ carrot's existence again. the katakuri vs luffy fight. incredible top teir arc
number 3... water 7/enies lobby. ok its water 7 and enies lobby what else are you gonna say. everything that possibly can be said about this arc already has been so i will just leave it at that
and for least favorite! uh...... hm. idk. im gonna go with whiskey peak just because of that absolutely absurd zoro vs luffy fight that came out of nowhere and never became relevant again which i am chalking up to early series weirdness.
#otakv-trxsh#ask#SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO ANSWER i was trying and got interrupted like 3 different times :/#either way. honestly if oda nails the wano ending that will also definitely be a contender for top 3#we've hit the ground running and im very excited to see the rest of this wrap up
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Jukebox reviews part 35! For context, see my post “A Project” under this same tag. If you want to see a full list of his EMCSA stories, they can be found here, sorted alphabetically.And if you want to see some of his drabbles, check out his blog at @jukeboxemcsa
Loose Ends
date uploaded date updated Tags
4/29/2017 mc ff
... Sweetling?! Huh, I didn't realize that was an endearment that showed up in *any* Jukebox story. It feels almost wrong in this context, given my associations with it, but ... alas, it's just so interesting to actually see it as a word/endearment being used by *anyone* outside of the one book I stole it from. Tangent aside, this is a fun little slice of a mind controller's life, and it's entertaining to watch her struggle with temptation and fail just as much as the two gals she's speaking with fail to resist her power. Hopefully she learns to control her power before it overwhelms her any more than it already has. 8/10 spirals
Quiver and Quake
date uploaded date updated Tags
5/6/2017 mc
Another induction script, and another clever metaphor. I might have to steal this idea sometime, for my own personal use. It's just such a clever mental image, for folk who are more visual. The use of a needle tracing brain activity, where someone can imagine it getting more and more still ... it's a good one! Standard disclaimer for arousal and orgasm suggestions, but it's a good script! 8/10 spirals
Soft Kitty Warm Kitty
date uploaded date updated Tags
5/13/2017 mc ff
Ok, this is adorable! Also has some good heat, but mostly it's just *cute.* Seeing how playfully, how easily, Izzy settles into being a kitty for her partner, how completely she leans into that space? Oh, it's adorable. And I hope that these two stay in love and happy together for a very long time. 9/10 spirals
Act Appalled
date uploaded date updated Tags
5/20/2017 mc mf md
Heh, how different people can be! I do enjoy this, the build up and the payoff, though. It's unclear from context if the scene interspersed between the sections of conversation is between George and Allie or George and Sue, and I think that's by design. But it does throw me off a little. The descriptions are amazing though You can just see how she's - whichever she she is! - reacting and responding, and it's so good. I'm going to assume Allie for reasons, but I won't say that read is inherently correct. (Heck, given one line, it may be meant to be both at different times!) 9/10 spirals
XOXOX
date uploaded date updated Tags
5/27/2017 mc ff cb
Oh, this is another lovely superhero story. The Liberty Squad is fun, even if I keep wanting to call them the Liberty Legion/The Legion. (Look, the size of the group and the particular flavor of personalities reminds me of the Legion of Superheros. ANYWAY.) The reluctant hero is an interesting inclusion to the Squad, and it's always fun to see how Sangria gets countered this time. I do wish that Azure could have a better ending here, though; I feel a little bad for her and the reality she has to accept still. 9/10 spirals
Worst Case Scenario
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6/3/2017 mc
THIS IS WHY YOU LOCK YOUR TRIGGERS, DARN IT ALL. Though any competent justice of the peace ought to see she's not entirely conscious and not sign the paperwork. Look, I just can't stand anyone who won't accept people being bi, it's a pet peeve of mine, so I really dislike Gillian and want her to get her comeuppance, somehow. I was hoping for Chloe to wake up and slap her, or for Auberon to walk in, or SOMETHING. My utter distaste for Gillian makes this story a 5/10 spirals, though the descriptions are on point, as always.
Zombie Blood Nightmare
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6/10/2017 mc mf md
Nope, nope nope nope. This story implies stuff happening after the end of the story that I really, REALLY don't want to think about. NOPE. (I will never, EVER understand how people aren't squicked TF out by the idea of having sex with *siblings,* even if not at the same time. I just won't ever get it. Also ick, horror movies are not my thing.
Divide and Conquer
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6/17/2017 mc mf md
I'm ... this one just feels mean spirited in ways that I find actively unpleasant. And the mind control isn't even the thing, really; it's all about the personalities involved, and they just aren't compelling for me. The lack of so many things I want, especially any actual *experiencing* of mind control, makes this one just not up my alley. 2/10 spirals
Remember the Time
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6/24/2017 mc mf md
Other than the serial recruitment element in here, this is a story I like a lot of! It focuses so much on her experience of things, and while there's sex she's mostly unaware of it and focused on how she feels. It's a nicely charged story, even if it isn't *really* how hypnosis works. 8/10 spirals
Yes, I’m Ready
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7/1/2017 mc ff
This story is a weird level of detached, that even as the process is laid out lacks - for me - any real charge to make it hot. But if you like the disconnect between conscious mind analyzing, considering, evaluating, and a body that's responding to control, to someone else's desires? Thsi is likely up your alley. 4/10 spirals
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I love the idea of Isabela and friends taking Mirabel out like some friend maybe the the one who figured out what Mirabel was saying and made the joke (I'm gonna call her Mari short for Maria in honor of Maria Theresa and our habsburgs tangent) so Mari goes to Isabela and tells her "So we want to go do something Friday night I heard you should finish up a lot of your work by than want to tag alone?" and Isabela is like "Sure" but than realizes she has to watch Mirabel and goes "I can't I have to take care of Mirabel" and Mari "Bring your girlfriend with us we won't go anywhere that she can't go or dangerous for kids like her" They make jokes like this to Isa all the time Isabela but not Mirabel since they heard about it from Mari's sibling who goes to school with Mirabel and they think it's like Mirabel trying to be cool in front of her friends like she has a hot older girlfriend and since being a teen is hard enough don't mock her for it but Isa isn't a teen she's part of the friend group and they don't realize how uncomfortable this is make it and Isa won't tell them to stop but pretends to laugh along since what if she protests to much won't it look suspicious as hell another friend when talking about who they were attracted to accidentally said the name of like an 80 year old professor instead of similarly named hot guy he actually liked and they teased them for ages after that even Isa and they never protested so it would look weird if Isabela protested. And Isabela can't say no and make up a readon why since Mirabel is around enough that she would find out if Isa said no and made up and excuse and tell them and it would Mirabel insufferable so she says yes they all go out to celebrate I don't some major thing being done like tests or project and they have a great time minus Isabela who is feeling age related guilt and incest guilt and when they get back to the car Mirabel is exhausted that she falls asleep on Isabela shoulder or lap since big sister make her feel safe and the friends joke and are gushing over her since Mirabel is cute and out cold so she won't her and Isabela finally hits a breaking point and goes please stop saying those things and they all go very quite and are freaked out like this was a joke but she is acting so like defeated were this jokes bothering her and when didn't realize it, is Mirabel safe with Isabela, is Isabela safe with Mirabel are either safe with each other should they forget those jokes ever happened should they tell anyone like the police since what they are worried about are serious crimes Isa may have done or had done to her. The drive back is unnaturally quite and once they get home and Isabela half walks and half carries Mirabel to her room they atart to talk about what they should do.
-RM
ohh isa angst isa angst >:3c I mean I'm sure it can be brushed off as the joke being too much, which it is, I mean I too would get super mad if my friends joked like that about me and my sister, so I'm sure they wouldn't think it's anything weird unless they already saw something going on. I imagine they'd apologize at some point later, and from what I'm reading so far it sounds like Isabela mostly feels... intimidated and disturbed by these jokes, but not angry exactly, and, I mean, both reactions are normal, and we all know Isabela is canonically submissive and breedable not the most confrontational person ever, though one of them may go "hey Isa, everything ok? You don't look alright, what's wrong?" and depending on how she handles it she may or may not incite more suspicion or convince them to drop it, though even if she has the most sus reaction possible, I still imagine they'd assume she's been abused in the past before they assume she wants to bang her kid sister, you know, because she's their friend, they care about her, they want to have the most charitable interpretation of her behavior possible.
Though it would be interesting if one of them was like "heyyy it was just jok ;-; we know you don't like your baby sis, or babies or sis' separatedly for that matter". AND THEN SHE LOOKS AT THEM WITH THE MOST HEARTBROKEN KICKED PUPPY LOOK IN HER EYES, and they go "...holy shit fuck".
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I get finding early Jaune annoying, but tag-lurking for that purpose ain't healthy. 'Sides, V6-8 made leaps & bounds WRT his screentime balance & watchability (loved the 'hoverbikes OK for a dude who might've never seen one before' parts).
Oh for sure, I hated Jaune until like v6 really. However, just because I didn't like him or his character, doesn't mean it wasn't a good direction for his growth.
Which like, mini tangent, you can hate a character while still understanding their actions/development. Like just saying.
But yeah v1-v3 Jaune is this naive goofy dude who was told by his sister or dad or smth(I forget it was real early) that all he has to do is show confidence to get the girl. He tries that with Weiss, a lot, it doesn't work. It's a very irritating character trait, and then you see Pyrrha, a beloved character, pining after him while he doesn't notice her until near the end. Which is another mini gripe that was sorta forced in a sense but like time constraints I get it. So he finally gets more confident thanks to Pyrrha's training and reinforcement and then she's killed after he realizes his feelings.
I think v5-v6 is my favorite version of Jaune before I started liking him. He sort of stays strong in the first few eps we see, helps RNJR with plans, gets Pyrrha's head piece added to his shield and that moment of him, Nora, and Ren in the hotel room together, all their weapons against the wall, showing off her head piece for the first time like they're all back together? Fucking loved that scene. Anyway, then we see him training every night to the recording of Pyrrha, and y'know what they say about the definition of insanity.
But the real kicker is when Qrow comes in, when he starts saying more about the maidens, about all these things that were fairy tales. That's when Jaune really starts to get pissed off, all these adults they were supposed to trust have hidden all these things. Maybe if they told them, maybe if they knew they could have saved Pyrrha. So that's where we start getting serious angst Jaune.
Then we get to his sister's house. We see how he reacts to Oscar, slamming him against a wall, screaming at him because if only Oz had told them earlier maybe her destiny could have been different. He keeps blaming people for things that can't be changed anymore, he's got so much anger, so much rage about this.
There's also that moment he happens upon Pyrrha's statue, talks with her mom(or sister? I forget) then Ren and Nora round the corner and something clicks.
But nothings easy, because Then there's Haven. Cider's there, the person who killed Pyrrha and he lets that anger take over, he's sloppy, isn't thinking. Cider's the bad guy though, decides she could torture him just a bit more, stabs Weiss with that lance. It's like a repeat of beacon all over again and he can't. He can't handle doing that again. His desperation unlocks his semblance, saves Weiss.
There's more but like that's the gist, he accepts he can't change the past, but he can help now, he can keep his friends alive. (Well. Mostly. Rip penny)
Then we finally get v7-v8 and he gets his haircut (which I always liked better than the other one fight me)he's more at peace with himself, becomes that goofy dude again, but different. He's cracking good natured jokes, coming up with plans and just feels better about himself.
But then he watches one by one as his friends fall into, what he thinks is death, has to kill one of his friends (who's already died at the hands of his dead girlfriend so like at least they have that in common) and then he falls. That boy is going to be real fucked up during v9 and he's going to go backwards, that's a given, but I hope it's in a way that's... I dunno, he doesn't turn into a hated character again.
Anyway it's 2am there's more and I'm bad with words and rambled but like. Yeah.
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ask game: 7, 13, 19
aaaand back to these! thank you for your patience nonnie <3
7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?
uhmmm okay. here's the part where i have to be transparent on how many fic ideas and wips i have. there's the imperfects fic, the heartbreak high fic (i want to finish that before season 2 comes out), the near death note fic, the lockwood cot3 fic (is it abandoned? who knows), at least four other fics sitting in current limbo... actually that list is probably the shortest it's been in like three years
13. How much planning do you do before writing?
very much. too much!! ok usually i start with an ideas doc and then try to outline but i usually way overcook the outline and get stuck. i used to also do like five drafts but i've whittled it down to three over the years
19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.
ough fuck now i need to share one of those. i've already teased they say we are asleep ch 5 to hell and back so let's do a heartbreak high one to shake things up
“...uh-huh,” Darren replies - and they flush dark, picking at the carpet. “It was the day you got arrested, actually. They still made us all go back to class because, of course.” They roll their eyes. Cash snorts. “Trust Hartley, right. Anyway, Obah was doing this whole class on consent, and it might have hit a little, um, close to home, after everything… and then she started going on this whole tangent about asexuality, and Spider and Ant continued to make, just, complete fuckheads of themselves about it, but - it sounded like you. So I just figured.” And they give him a proud look, like they’ve got him all figured out. It’s the kind of look you can get stuck under. It's the kind of look Cash finds himself stuck under, as if Darren can pick all of his secrets right out of him with their bubblegum-pink nails. “I’m right, aren’t I.”
It’s not a question. “Yeah,” Cash replies, still struck that Darren can piece him together so easily. And then: “you actually paid attention in SLTs? Because of me?”
“Don’t tell Obah,” Darren interjects immediately, indignant and embarrassed all at once, setting off another round of snickers from Cash. “She’ll never get over it.”
we often say such sentences as cniki never left manberg well i can tell you my seventeen year old self never left the asexual character + coming out ao3 tags
ask game!! ✨
#now i always believe that every fic should be some kind of treat for the writer but the hbh one is just egregious#anyway sidenote i always feel like it's easy for those kinds of scenes to get stilted but hopefully this one is not. heart emoji#asks#thank u for the questions nonnie!! <3#ask games
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Love Language|| Jujutsu Kaisen
“I wanna be fluent in your love language. Learning your love language.”
A/N: If you didn’t guess from the tagline this is inspired by the song love language by Kehlani. I’ll probably do more of these with different shows and what not because why not. If I missed anyone lmk and I can make a part 2. Also please tag spoilers appropriately esp for manga readers, that being said spoilers for the prequel? manga on Yuuta’s part.
Characters: Itadori, Fushiguro, Kugisaki, Maki, Inumaki, Okkotsu, Gojo, Nanami, Sukuna
Warnings: said it b4 but spoiler warnings in general but esp on Yuuji, Yuuta, and Maki’s parts
Plot synopsis: The 5 love languages; physical affection, quality time, words of affirmation, gift giving and acts of service, and how each jujutsu kaisen character shows their love and affection for you. Ft. a gender neutral reader!
Word count: 2352
Itadori Yuuji
Love Language: Quality time and physical affection
Ok listen-
So for physical affection, Yuuji’s just that kind of person
He is all about giving to you
He’s holding hands with you if you’re ever walking anywhere, and if you’re not a hand holder pls pls pls let him hold your pinky he likes the reassurance
No but seriously he loves to hold you like yall could be walking in completely opposite directions and he’ll try to find some way to hold onto you until the very last second
And even then he’s all ‘:( babe imy’
‘Yuuji we just talked 2 minutes ago’
Another way he shows his love is through quality time
I think for him this is the biggest thing overall, esp as a jujutsu sorcerer bcus you never know yk but also because you’re important to him
Like remember how he literally went to occult club so that he could get out of school in time to go visit his grandpa...ye :(
He also loves finding dumb touristy things to do with you while in Tokyo or anywhere yall go together on a mission
If you get together before he died and came back then that time he had to spend away from you literally killed him
Like my mans was goin THROUGH it
He almost considered spoiling Gojo’s secret
When he sees you again, he’s not gonna let go for like a solid day
Fushiguro Megumi
Love Language: acts of service and words of affirmation
This boy loves you so much
He loves to tell you all the things he loves about you when you’re alone
But he’s a little awkward with his words sometimes, hence where acts of service come in
He’ll immediately offer to hold your things, run to help you train or study, and if you’re cold? He’s fully prepared to never see his jacket again
Also he can’t cook but he’s fully prepared to suffer hearing Sukuna and suffering through Yuuji’s antics if it means he can learn how to make your favorite food
He also will surprise you by making you a playlist of all the songs that you’ve had stuck in your head and sends it to you randomly out of the blue one day like ‘thought you might like this’
However the best of both worlds is when he leaves you little notes throughout the day or sends you texts asking if you need anything or just encouraging you to keep going
Negl he’s lowkey the president of the Y/N support club bcus-
You need anything? It’s yours
Cravings? Sad? Angry? What do you need bby, I’ve got it for you
Also he’s totally the type to be like you need help fuckin this person up?
Also before yall started dating, Fushiguro was a mess
He was constantly asking to spar with you and go on missions, basically anything he could do to be near you
End of the day, Fushiguro loves you and makes sure you know it whether it’s through his actions or his words
Kugisaki Nobara
Love Language: physical affection
So, she’s not the best with words, she tries but like someone help her bcus she is LOST
Like when she had a crush on you she was like “c’mere dumbass i wanna give you a hug”
In fact, she still is like “c’mere” but now you are dating :)
She loves you though and at first she doesn’t really know how to show it
But one day you both come home from training and you just look at each other like ‘yeah today sucks’ and yall both just held each other for the rest of the day
After that, she decided that she wants to do that with you but like always
She’s holding your hand, kissing your cheek when you go shopping, etc. etc.
She really loves to cling to you because she always has this fear that maybe one day you’ll get killed or just disappear so she figures might as well hold onto you for as long as we’ve got
After missions, she’s running up to you and if you aren’t prepared for the tackle, you’re probably gonna fall
On dates too, like if you guys have to meet up for a date, she’s tackling you
On the subject of dates...
She doesn’t mind PDA, and while she might hold your hand or arm so that you don’t get separated
She also doesn’t mind wiping food off your face and eating it, only to then kiss the spot on your face the food was previously at
She will split her shopping load between the two of you, however she will be slightly pouty if she’s carrying more than you (she then cheers up when she realizes she can do more shopping to “balance” the two of you)
In private she’s very cuddly and kissy which honestly isn’t that bad until it gets hot
At which point she’ll just say turn on the ac or convince you to walk around in a tank top (or something like it) so that she can continue holding you
Tbh she prefers the big spoon, but if she’s ever upset you let her be the little spoon >:(
All in all a very loving girlfriend who tries her best to show how much she loves you by glomping you at any given moment.
Zenin Maki
Love language: acts of service and quality time
So you’re telling me that Maki wouldn’t immediately go out of her way to make sure her and her s/o can spend as much time together as possible?????
Like she’s super observant (which can cause her to be a bit harsh, see Yuuta) but she can always tell what’s bothering you
So if you’re upset that you haven’t been spending enough time together due to her being out on missions or otherwise busy she’s immediately running to finish her stuff and spend time with you.
((She’s very sorry, but on the bright side she brought your favorites!))
Maki is also an acts of service type
This mostly ties in with her kind of direct action way of thinking
She thinks she’s slick but you can always see her sneaking around to do small things like grabbing your laundry for you and folding it
She’s very much like if you love someone, you gotta prove it
Overall, dates with her are very intimate and personal to the two of you
Like she’ll take you to a frog pond you landed in during a fight once
Or you’ll take her to a street fair that serves this exclusive food that Maki mentioned wanting to try
However, Maki shows her love through quality time and acts of service and while she does receive love from these to a degree, she is very much a words of affirmation gal
She’s not insecure in her day to day life but she has her moments, everyone does
Sometimes, she’ll feel like shit and a failure and all she wants is for you to say that she’s doing amazing and that she’s a great girlfriend.
Inumaki Toge
Love language: Physical affection
Because of his curse, he can’t exactly express how he feels about you through words
He does text you frequently throughout the day (I’ll have to do a hc abt that someday)
But he’d prefer not to be on his phone to communicate if you’re right in front of him
So he does the next best thing and just smothers you in physical affection
He loves kissing you the most
Like he could spend hours just kissing you if you let him (please let him)
But in public, he gets if you’re not a big fan of pda he’s willing to tone it down as long as he gets kisses later in private
He’d still prefer it if you held his hand or linked pinkies maintaining touch in some way
Also, unrelated, but it means so much to him if you try to understand his sushi language
He knows realistically the foundation of any relationship is communication so already he’s at a disadvantage because of his curse
But if he sees you like take notes after he says something or start to need him to text you to translate, his heart is swelling
Like ‘omg this person loves me enough to learn a whole new language <333′
Another tangent but before you were together he was struggling so muchhhh
Like how does one express their feelings for someone without words?
If you’re Inumaki, you buy some flowers and text said person to meet you at a cafe
It took an embarrassingly long time for you to realize it was a date, but once you did, you ever so gently linked pinkies with Toge
Okkotsu Yuuta
Love language: words. of. affirmation.
He’s literally so sensitive please tell him you love him regularly
In return he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you too
He knows that he can’t really be there for you as much as he’d like but he likes to let you know that he’s thinking of you
Doesn’t matter the time, if you call, he’s answering
If he doesn’t he’ll cry he’ll immediately call you back and is apologizing for missing your call
You assure him it’s no big deal but the man has his volume turned all the way up and changed your ringtone to one specific for you by the time you’ve even said hey
Aside from that, he really is sensitive
He’s been through a lot especially with Rika as well as growing up alone and bullied
So for him, it’s everything to hear that you like having him around and don’t think he’s too much or anything like that
Of course, he gets better with time, trusting you and having the confidence in himself to not need constant assurance
That being said, if you ever just whisper in his ear, “I love you, Yuuta.”
That’s not your boyfriend, that’s a puddle of love on the floor
(Maki, Panda, and Inumaki had a field day when they saw him, Fushiguro now questions if Yuuta really is a respectable 2nd year.)
Gojo Satoru
Love language: gift giving and quality time
So Gojo doesn’t exactly get to spend a ton of time
Between missions, him beefing with higher ups, and you and him playing parent the baby sorcerers yall don’t exactly get time to go out much
In which case Gojo tends to default to two options:
He’ll either go the extra mile to try and spend time with you
Whether that be an at home date where he tries and fails to surprise you with a home cooked meal
Or a date out at a restaurant or cafe (which you tend to visit after his home cooking efforts)
OR he’ll bring you various souvenirs from his missions
He loves to spoil you, and if he could he’d probably bring you back a whole store’s worth of stuff
But alas, airport security regulations
Anyways, he loves to spoil you especially if he can spoil you with sweets because it benefits him in two ways
He treasures all the time you spend together, and he does try to overcompensate for his absence with gifts
Despite your assurances, it’s kind of a guilty pleasure at this point (just let him, trying to argue just goads him on further)
He doesn’t only buy you small things, he enjoys buying you outfits
And he especially likes seeing you in them
Kento Nanami
Love Language: acts of service
Y’all remember the episode where he killed that curse that was bothering that baker lady?? Yea that
He’s literally such an acts of service boyfriend it’s not even funny
Before you got together, he would memorize your coffee order and bring you a cup pretty much everyday like clockwork
Now that you’re togehter, he wakes up before you so h=that when you wake up there’s the smell of coffee throughout the house
When you come out of you’re shared bedroom and he’s just scrooling through his phone like “mornin’”
Of course you already made the bed and ironed his clothes because relationships are give and take
And then when you leave for your jobs in the morning, he kisses you and holds the door open for you
He’ll draw a bath for you if he gets home before you, if you let him join or not is up to you
Also, if you ever get sick, he’s actually the best
Like he isn’t the best cook but he can heat up soup and tea
He’ll run to the store while you’re asleep and when you wake up, there’s like a whole tray of food in front of you and he’s like ‘it’s important to eat and drink so your body can heal’
And when you inevitably fall asleep after eating and taking medicine at his insistence, he tucks you in and clears away the dishes, exiting with little more than a kiss to your head
Ryoumen Sukuna
Love Language: gift giving and acts of service
So like Sukuna never says he loves you...ever
But he does notice if someone or something’s making you uncomfortable, and if so, said entity’s head will be presented to you later that day
You also just so happen to be the only person he can tolerate being around him for longer than 20 seconds
He also loves to give you jewelry, he likes seeing you adorned in something from him
He also isn’t gonna just handle all your problems for you, he will push you to become stronger by training with you
He’ll also expect this energy to be reciprocated, as long as you’re pushing yourself to be better, he’s content with that
(He wants to see you grow because he’s scared that if he ever gets caught lackin one day you’ll end up dead)
He’ll never tell you or admit it, but Sukuna truly does care for you and hold you in a regard that he doesn’t have for others
So be grateful jkjk
#love language#love language series#love language hcs#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jujutsu kaisen hcs#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#yuta okkotsu x reader#inumaki x reader#gojou satoru x reader#itadori yuji x reader#fushiguro megumi x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#kugisaki x reader#maki x reader#im so sorry yuutas part is so short#hes getting a fic soon i hope that makes up for it ;-;#idontblushsrry
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Ummm... How do you think Ollie could influence Jason or his opinion on the whole hero thing? (About that rant you posted in the tags)
(I was always kinda interested in it but I don't know Ollie's character enough. Feel free to ignore)
I'm sorry this took so long! Life really got in the way this week!
Ok so big question! I have a lot of thoughts on this so I’ll try not to go off on too many tangents. Also if you’d like some Ollie comic recs, I’d be more than happy to give them!
Also before I begin, I’m writing a fic on this premise so if you don’t want some spoilers, don’t read this post. I’ve also been thinking about how Jason and Ollie connect mostly in regards to the fic I’m writing, which has Under the Red Hood Jason and pulls mostly from the Grell run and the Quiver storyline for Ollie, so those are the characterizations I’m going to be referring to.
SO
Let’s start with why I think Ollie and Jason would work together. Ollie and Jason are both characters who are known for and, at times, defined by their anger. Ollie is a leftist who uses hero work mostly to protect people who aren’t being protected by law enforcement, such as sex workers and the homeless. Jason came back from the dead to find that no one he knew in life seemed to miss him and his life didn't seem to matter to anyone and he became angry. While they have different motivations for being angry, I find it interesting that anger is an important emotion for both of them. Jason and Ollie also tend to handle their anger in similar ways, with lots of outbursts and vigilante work. They also tend to work toward similar goals. Ollie wants to help lower class people and people who are frequently ignored by the justice system, while Jason wants to help protect kid from the drug trade, as shown in UtRH, and to some extent help the Bowery. Ollie is an older hero who has been doing this for a lot longer than Jason has and focuses more on areas of hero work that Jason is interested in as Red Hood but clearly would not have had experience with as Robin.
Ollie is one of few characters who is shown to stand up to Bruce with some frequency. As shown in this post, Ollie will defend Bruce’s kids and treats them like people before like sidekicks. A lot of moments when Ollie is arguing with Bruce are meant to portray Ollie as argumentative and hot headed, all of which I think is interesting to parallel with how Jason has been treated for disagreeing with Bruce's methods. I think it could do Jason a lot of good to connect with both heroes who don't necessarily see eye to eye with Bruce, and also to connect with heroes who aren't in Gotham and do hero work differently. As I've said before, the bat kids do a lot better when they are allowed to connect with people outside of the bat circle and grow as a person separate from Bruce. I also think that Jason's character is constantly nerfed in favor of showing Bruce in a better light and having Jason connect with a hero who understands his actions and tries to meet him on his level would actually be a boost for Jason. The post linked above includes a panel from that comic where Jason kidnaps Mia Dearden and blows up her high school gym. (Don't really like this plot but anyway.) Even though Jason has kidnapped Mia and Bruce and Ollie are trying to track him down to make sure he doesn't hurt her, Ollie still shows a lot of concern for Jason and what he's going through. Even thought Jason has taken Mia and blew up a building, Ollie is still thinking about Jason as a person who needs to be talked to and understood rather than a villain who needs to be conquered. This, to me, shows that Ollie would make an effort to connect with Jason and understands him.
For a more specific point of connection, Ollie is another vigilante who has died and come back. It wasn’t the same as Jason’s resurrection, since he was put back together atom but atom by Spector Hal and had to go to heaven to get his soul back, but that’s still an experience that not many people could relate to. Ollie is also a vigilante who has killed people. He hasn’t killed on the scale Jason has, but that still sticks out to me, especially since DC has a pretty strict code that their heroes don’t kill. Ollie has killed out of anger, revenge, or to protect someone, which is similar to Jason, who kills because of his anger over it not seeming like he was remembered or cared about, revenge for being killed, or to protect the people and kids in the parts of Gotham Bruce ignores. Again, they're not really the same reasons, especially with a lot of Jason's characterization after UtRH, but I find it interesting that comparisons can be made between them and why they've made the choice to kill. I also think it would be very interesting to have Jason connect with someone who has killed for similar motivations but is still considered a hero and is welcomed by the other heroes.
Related to that point, Ollie and his family are also friends with assassins and people who have killed or really wouldn’t be welcome by other heroes. People such as Eddie Fyers, Shado, and Jade all have close relationships with members of the Arrowfam and show up pretty frequently in their storylines. They’re invited to weddings, they're offered help and haven by the Arrows, and, in Jade's case, she is allowed and encouraged to be a large part of Lian's life. These characters are recurring, and they are shown to have established trust with the Arrowfam. So while Jason is a killer who has committed some truly heinous acts, I really don't think that it would be all that big a barrier in Ollie fostering a relationship with him.
So this is a very long explanation to say that I think Ollie would understand Jason a lot more than the majority of other heroes, and if Jason and Ollie were given the opportunity to actually connect, I think it would work out well for Jason. Jason is a very lonely character. He doesn't have many friends, especially not ones who he's had for as long as other characters, and the only people he has to reconnect with when he comes back from the dead are the bats, who have very different world views from him at that point. Ollie, on the other hand, operates very differently and I think he could really do a lot for showing Jason that you don't have to follow Batman's rules to be a hero or to do the right thing. This isn't to say I think Ollie would whole heartedly endorse Jason's whole "Red Hood Reign of Terror" thing, but I think Ollie could be a positive influence in showing Jason how to be a street level vigilante, especially since they tend to focus on similar areas. Ollie could really help Jason become a hero in his own right rather than a character who keeps flipping between outright villain and vague anti-hero.
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Ok so I'm writing this Oblivion fic and need a convenient poison because my Hok got stabbed and nothing is simple when Martin has to care for someone. (I kinda go on a tangent here so this may will get long.) I wanted to write it all out so this is my excuse to post something for once.
I know nothing about poison so I made one up that would make sense for Martin to be able to go "Oh no, I've seen this before." And it wouldn't seem (too) forced.
So this poison (that isn't always a poison) is called Fool's Ink, or that's it common name among the mortal plane. Fool's Ink is a substance made from the blood of a daedric prince that is diluted with regular ink and something pertaining to the prince themselves. This ink is used to sign the contracts of mortals who bind themselves with a prince.
The contract itself isn't always signing a piece of paper and the ink is never really used as actual ink, unless you're Clavicus Vile. The contract, as well as it's signing, varies from prince to prince.
Martin for example, bound himself to Sanguine by taking a shot of the ink. Sanguine's ink is diluted with brandy so it's not too bad but his blood makes the ink as a whole a potent aphrodisiac. So......yeah... It also makes the veins around entrance site, whether your throat/mouth or in my Hok's case, a few stab wounds, turn a deep, inky, black. (haha, see what I did there?) This is the only commonality with the princes Fool's Ink besides how you make it.
Now Dagon is different than Sanguine. Being the Prince of Destruction and all, he likes to kill things. As well as his followers. So, his blood acts as a poison that weakens the mind and body with a severe fever, loss of appetite, weakness in limbs, really anything kinds sicky. His blood has a unique somewhat magical trait that accentuates any injuries you have. Making putting this on a blade very useful. The reason the poison does not kill you is so your mind is more susceptible to the pull of his vile but cool book, the Mysterium Xarxes. Or just the temptation of the power he could grant you. In my Hok's case, it's the former and not the latter. His ink and blood are diluted with the petals of a dried tulip. According to google they symbolize change and are conveniently harmful to eat.
This is way longer than I intended it to be so if I can think of some good stuff I might make another post with some examples of other princes Fool's Ink. Feel free to expand on this any way you like, just tag me or something so I can see.
#oblivion#tes oblivion#tes hc#martin septim#my Hok#made up poision#mehrunes dagon#Sanguine#daedric prince#clavicus vile#oblivion oc#oblivion hc
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To be the knife against his throat
TW- There is a bit of violence throughout each chapter so if that makes you uncomfortable please don't read ahead. I try to put the proper warnings when possible but unfortunately I do tend to forget. As this story progresses I will try to be more aware of this. Thank you beautiful people so much for reading!
Catch up with the first and second chapter if you haven't already!
Tag list as of 9/27/21 @avengerstanforlife, @dark-night-sky-99, @emergenciesstory , @bookscoffeeandracoons, @krystallynx
The following morning everyone in the compound was woken up to loud screams. Well, one loud scream coming from a certain trickster god. The team ran into the kitchen area to see you on top of Loki with a knife hitting his metal cuff attached to his armor. Growling in frustration, you punch his side, as he weakens his grip on your hand that holds the knife, you push further and the tip of said knife touches the base of his neck.
“Y/N NO!” The group collectively shouts as you draw a small amount of blood from the pressure you put on the knife. You lean down next to his face, whispering something that not even Friday could pick up on. His Adam's apple dips as he gulp’s from the assumed threat that was whispered. No one tries to approach you in case you decide to plunge the knife into his throat, but without any warning Loki smirks as a flash of green magic pushes you into a portal and leaves you falling in your ass a good distance from the god.
The inhumane growl that leaves your throat stops everyone in their tracks. Staring him down, Loki puts both hands up as a sign of peace.
“I mean no disrespect lady, I simply wished to not be in such a compromising position,” he explains quickly before your knife could find a home in his body.
“Just stay the hell away from me Loki,” you all but hiss at him before stalking out of the room ignoring the team's questions.
The group surrounding them doesn’t make a move, watching Loki for any signs that he will retaliate as Thor walks as quietly as he can slightly behind you. The two of you walk in silence to your private workshop. No one tried to stop and talk to you, practically feeling the tense energy you were exuding. As you entered the shop, Thor gently closed the door and cleared his throat.
“I know my brother can be infuriatingly frustrating to deal with, I do hope that this flaw of his doesn’t make it unbearable to be around either of us,” Thor finishes his sentiment quickly before you have a chance to speak.
“Thor, I promise I won’t actually kill your brother, I’m sorry you have to deal with this at all. Just- just keep him away from me. Okay?” you quickly continue, “He left me to die once, which only taught me that I can rely on no one. I don’t trust this team, I don’t trust normal people, and I especially don’t trust Loki. So back off.”
You leave Thor standing in the workshop baffled by the raw emotions you had shown in your brief tangent. As quick as you left, Loki entered the shop moments later, a flash of green being the only warning Thor had before he was staring at his brother.
“Lady y/n just left so it would be wise to make your leave quickly as I am unsure of whether she will return here or not,’’ Thor warns quickly and quietly.
“I did not realize she was still alive, I didn’t even bother to give her a proper burial,” Loki says, lowering his head with shame. “It was the least I could have done.”
Without another word, Loki disappears with a flash of green light. Thor breathes out gently and turns to leave the workshop. As he is about to switch off the light, a map on the wall catches his attention. A map he hadn’t seen in over a century, when the nations of Midgard were being claimed and fought over. Any doubts in his brother's memory were long gone with this artifact on the wall encased in glass. It was too frayed and battered to be a replica. With more questions brewing in his mind than ever, Thor shuts the workshop door and with a shake of his head, makes his way to his chambers.
He is so engrossed with his own thoughts, he doesn’t manage to catch the red headed spy lurking in the shadows, having heard every bit of conversation from her post.
Until now things had sailed pretty smoothly with the Avengers. Until now your identity has been easily covered up by half truths and diversions. That was until Loki had to come along and cause chaos as always. At least the lore surrounding him was consistent.
Taking a moment to pause and collect your thoughts, you find a way to minimize the fallout heading your way. The team was gonna find out eventually so why not get ahead of that curve. The only way to do that would be going against your better judgement. The only person that could persuade the Avengers to not completely turn you out. Maybe two people? Why would they not completely dismiss you, after all they were just a rag tag group of superpowered freaks. The amount of times you had saved their butts didn't matter, at the end of the day, you lied to people that trusted you. They would never trust you again.
So who was the better option?
Tony treated you like a daughter, always trying to cheer you up when you were down. Y'all even had a secret handshake. He would be beyond insulted that you didn't share this overwhelmingly important detail of your existence with him. Now on the other hand, Director Fury. Would he even care? As long as you were on the good guys team aka his team, he wouldn't let you be taken away. Right? Or maybe he would want to dissect you like the Hydra vermin had tried oh so many years ago.
Fury, like the team, would have no reason to believe or trust that your intentions were as true as you had once said. An impossible situation for the impossible creature you were. What a dilemma.
Shaking off the thoughts crossing your mind, you text one Tony Stank, the only contact you had listed in your phone besides- well, nevermind it’s not important. What is important is the text you’re about to send. If it’s not worded correctly, Tony would assume the worst and immediately try and track you down.
“Hey Stank-face,” you punch into the old flip phone.
“Why did I even tell you that story,” He texted back quickly.
“Because you were drunk and have no filter, duh,” you smile for a moment but quickly mask your face and continue texting Tony, “I have a favor to ask.”
There’s a brief pause before he replies.
“What’s up?” There’s no hiding your smile now, you can always rely on Tony to pull through.
“Meet me by the burger stand, next to the old warehouse at 5pm?” Nervously picking at your nails while waiting on his response, you notice a black bike peeking around the corner of the alleyway you were across from. Shit.
“Sure thing Jelly-bean, everything OK?” No, not ok but it would be. Just have to get ahead of the fallout.
“Yeah Tones, all good, just got something to talk to you about. I would like for this to stay between us for now if you don’t mind. Gotta go, I’ll see you at 5.” Taking the sim card out of the phone you toss it in the trash bin and start walking, keeping an eye on the little stalker you've managed to catch.
#avengers fanfic#avengers fic#marvel fic#avengers fanfiction#avengers#marvel#iron man#natasha romanoff#the avengers#vampire reader#loki x y/n#loki x reader#slow burn#so slow it'll make you hurt#loki x vampire reader#vampire!reader#please reblog if you like this#please reblog
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i was wondering if you could do some like headcanons maybe about obi-wan and hand or forehead kisses please? <333
omg yearn level 100
though obi wan is not the most open person in the world
he’s v good at showing affection
sometimes the ways he shows that he cares are v lowkey, while other times it’s so obvious this man is literally head over heels for u
in public, around the council & other jedi he has to b more subtle
at parties/gatherings/important meetings he gets away with gentle kisses to the back of your hand and it makes you go crazY
you once had to go undercover as a married couple on a mission—cue the excessive hugs, kisses, hand-holding
tbh he wasn’t acting...at any part of it
everything you did together felt so natural it came to him on instinct and he didn’t even think twice
so when the whole ordeal ended he was big sad rip
ok but like his forehead kisses are superior tho and they never fail to make your heart MELT
(i don’t think the council even tries to call either of you out for it because...tbh. it’s really cute. like, really cute LMAO(
(and also it’s not like you’re doing anything super...extra right there so they can’t really ?? get you in trouble)
so obi-wan will grab the sides of your arms ever so gently and tug you forward and <3
when nobody’s looking he lets his lips linger against your forehead and if he’s feeling a lil bold he’ll kiss you once more on the lips <3
every time anakin catches these lil interactions he’ll lean in and whisper “whipped” then quickly walk away snickering to himself
(he’s no cupid but he likes to believe that he is because it makes him feel better about himself)
when you’re having a bad day or obi feels like there’s something you’re not telling him that you want to get off your chest he doesn’t say anything
he just
wraps you into a super warm and comforting hug
gives you a lil kiss on the forehead or cheek
then !!! he’ll rest his chin on top of your head !!
sometimes you’ll open up and talk
other times he’d just sway from side to side and you’d fall asleep right there in his arms
(when you were exhausted you had the tendency to fall asleep standing up. which was happening more and more often nowadays)
it became your little habit to take off with a quick kiss—esp before battles bc you didn’t know what could happen to the other
and you wanted to leave on a good note
so :) yes this man is a soft kisser
but OH my god i could go on for hours ab how he literally takes your breath away when you make out but i don’t want to go on a tangent again so let’s j save that topic for another time oashdfoasdf
star wars + other mutuals: @vikstarwoo @dameronology @florenepughs @obirain @rentskenobi @meshlababy @etherealsanakin @arkofblake @freeshavocadoooo @katelynnwrites @karasong
permanent tags: @poestardust @fl0ating @voguesir @lady-elena-adeline
#obi wan kenobi x reader#star wars imagine#obi wan x reader#obi wan x you#obi wan kenobi x you#obi wan kenobi x y/n#obi wan imagine#obi wan fluff#star wars preferences#obi wan x y/n#obi wan kenobi fluff#star wars blurb
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May I ask about your Vulpes crucifixion headcannon? Where he has the scars/nerve damage?
Like, why was he crucified? Why was he let down? Does he think the punishment was necessary or complete bs?
Ok
Sit tight, I’m about to rant-
so when you talk to Caesar in the fort and ask about Vulpes, Caesar goes on this tangent ab how when Vulpes broke rank on a mission to capture a Cheiftan of some irrelevant tribe, his Centurion wanted him crucified for ‘disobedience’, but Caesar decided to promote Vulpes to Frumentarii instead bc he saw potential in him. (The part above is the only part of my hc that is confirmed in canon other than the stats I mention later!!)
And the first thought that went through my head when this conversation happened was “yeah, but was the Centurion allowed to go through with it before Vulpes was saved...? Like when did Caesar find out about this?? Did this furry legit get crucified??”
And now it’s my official HC that Vulpes was on a cross at one point bc the story got to Caesar after he’d been put up there.
Crucifixion usually consists of the hands being either nailed through to the wood at the palms or wrists, or the wrists being tied to the wood. Same goes for the ankles. So I HC that he either has nerve damage from having literal holes put through his hands/legs, and/or circulation problems from being tied tight enough for a long enough time to permanently screw up circulation (it’s kinda hard to keep a body on a cross and even if he was tied, he’d have to be tied tight , having circulation cut off for long enough causes nerve damage as well) So the nerve damage would mostly affect his hands and feet
If literally-just-a-mailman can get shot twice In the dome at point blank range with a 9mm and survive, Dog-Head, a seasoned (at the time) decanus of the legion can survive the cross- these are my fucked up legion HCs and I get to choose what’s possible /lh
Also in this hc this would be part of the reason his SPECIAL stats are so weirdly spread and unspecialized despite being a high ranking member of the Legion. 5s across the board with a 4 in Endurance...? I mean 34 SPECIAL overall isnt anything to scoff at per say but he’s that basic-? After all that training?? And one of his tag skills is s c i e n c e? He’s the weakest important Legion officer, coming in at one SPECIAL stat below Lucius and 18 points below Lanius. (Lucius only having a 6 in strength and a base stat total of 35 can be boiled down to his age, since his age has been mentioned in the game but this is a discussion for another day)
Kinda sketch considering the rank he’s achieved (the stats I’ve mentioned are canon as well! ). Meanwhile his literary foil, Lanius, is (correct me if I’m wrong) literally the strongest human NPC in the vanilla game, with a SPECIAL stat total of 52 AND all his extra buffs) But- if he was dealing with chronic issues like nerve damage and/or circulation problems and therefore couldn’t focus mainly on fighting and physical improvement anymore, *DEEP WHEEZE BC IM RANTING* a permanent stat nerf like this with no specialization would make a lot more sense, as would his promotion to “eyes and ears of the legion” status rather than simply being saved and put into another combat-heavy position, like being promoted to veteran decanus or centurion.
As far as his interpretation of events is concerned, I believe he’d only view it as unfair after he’d been saved,
like he knew when he did it that his centurion would want him dead but he did it for the “betterment of the legion” or some crap, so he was willing to die for it until he got saved. Then he was like “wait, I almost died for making the best possible choice and for bettering the legion? what a dick that centurion was”. He wouldn’t count it against the legion and its ideals as a whole bc he’s drank enough of the legion koolaid to disregard his own life if it meant the betterment of his faction, also bc Caesar himself saved him so that just cemented his loyalty all the more
EDIT: I think I should emphasize the fact that he got promoted from Decanus, a physically demanding, battle heavy role, to Frumentarii, a role for espionage and playing ambassador. And this was after leading a battle strategy, not after forging an alliance or laying groundwork for some sort of spy operations
Vulpes does almost none of his own dirty work physically. The whole function of his occupation changed which just adds to my belief that the reason this happened rather than him just being promoted to Centurion was because he physically couldn’t battle that heavily anymore.
I could talk literally all day about Vulpes’ character and the legion and the different avenues they could’ve been taken down had he been a companion but maybe, just maybe I should stop hyperfixating on villainous war criminal furries and their stupid, historically inaccurate, fascist factions-
✨RAMBLE OVER✨
I love getting inbox asks n shit so please feel free to spam me! I have nothing but time on my hands and thoughts in my head
#Vulpes Inculta#fallout new vegas#Caesar’s legion#Vulpes either one hundred percent drank the legion koolaid or he does everything out of devotion to caesar#he’s loyal to the legion or it’s a life debt idc idc idc#legate lanius#Lucius (Caesar’s Legion)
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May I have the Hiccup is autistic info dump please? As a treat?
OK OK LETS GO!!! I’m going to put this under the cut because it’s really long, and I’m not gonna apologize for that, since yall asked.
First off it’s like: everyone on the spectrum is different so I understand that another autistic person might have a completely different take here or not see what I see in how I relate to Hiccup. But that’s exactly why I think he’s neurodivergent !!! For the most part a lot of my headcanon comes down the the base text in the trilogy.
We’ve got the in canon, outright shit that is:
-He starts off as an outcast for explicitly being ‘different.’ All the other vikings are constantly talking about his different way of thinking and a different way of interacting to the world around him and their inability to understand them socially isolates Hiccup. He’s been noticeably the odd one out from day one, even if no one can name why!!! God!! Felt that little man!!!!!
-And Hiccup spends nearly every day focused on dragons, and consumes the handbook for it all in one sitting researching the night fury. Then when he’s not working on understanding the dragons and taking note of what Toothless reacts to, he’s engineering different mechanisms to fly with Toothless.
-He fidgets constantly, and seems to have a hard time looking at people when he’s talking. I love the gifsets where people are showcasing all of his hand flailing and talk about how endearing it is in the tags. It makes me feel better about my own stimming. There’s also like... the entire opening conversation w Astrid from 2 that’s like “I don’t move like that” “you just did!” and I love it so much. A lot of the mannerisms I know were probably thrown in as animation dramatics but they are *my* mannerisms on screen so autism be upon ye, Hiccup.
-and when he’s talking he’s mouthy and often doesn’t realize he’s said the wrong thing until it’s too late! one of my favorite parts of httyd2 is when Hiccup is going on a tangent to Valka about ‘hey everythings gonna be great you can come back home and drago’s a nonissue and and and!’ and its a bit overbearing and Stoick literally has to say “slow down” so Hiccup can give Valka some breathing room. It’s like oh hey I’ve done exactly that before. (and I also hc Astrid as having ASD bc to me it makes their initial conflict all that more interesting and funny to me. Astrid’s like ‘hey wait don’t go against the social rules I memorized i worked very hard to be this socially competent’ and Hiccup stomps on that and is like “what?” It’s why their bond throughout the trilogy gets me so hard like we love to see two trans autistic vikings in love and winning.)
-On the topic of his social skills, it’s the way he explains things to other people too that reads as autistic to me. He doesn’t go out of his way to verbalize most of his affection for dragons or why he thinks other people should understand. He just taps Toothless’ head and is like ‘I can show you’ through the act of riding itself. It’s either that or he goes on longwinded rants that he himself struggles to follow, so he relies on the former more frequently.
And guess what his pattern-tapping and his unique abilities end up setting him apart from others but it’s also what brings dragons and vikings together!! It is a good thing!!! No one else can think like he does and maybe they don’t have to but the world is better for him existing in it!! What a wonderful story!!! A story that becomes stronger for me when I put in the lense of “not only does this autistic character not have to grow out of his own skin to be accepted, his neurodivergent traits are what make him brilliant, what make him so in tune with dragons!” and not in the like. gross autistic savant or hollywood autism trope u see in shit like Hannibal or Sherlock. Hiccup is just some guy, but he’s just some autistic guy, who can do great things! don’t get why autistic cis men will tell u our only icons are like. Rorschach and Rick Sanchez when Hiccup is literally right there/hj.
This is more sub textual than the rest of my points but there’s the aspect of Hiccup’s focus on *specifically* animals. It’s a common early special interest for plenty of autistics. Fun fact is the creator of pokemon, Satoshi Tajiri, was autistic and had a special interest on bugs-his love for them is partly why Pokemon exists! And My own animal special interests were elephants, pandas, and cats. It was such a big thing for me that still, every year for my birthday people still get me plushies of them. I was 6 when Httyd1 came out, but I watched it like. Religiously. And less so for any of the characters or story but because I adored Toothless, who I knew was based off of a cat without having to be told. So Hiccup being so quickly dedicated to this dragon... :) yeah. He understands dragons so much more than he understands people and Toothless and the rest seem to comfort him because being with the dragons forgoes stressful human conversation for just being content to be!! what a story!! what a grand thing!!
tldr: hiccup stims a lot, has clear moments of hyper-focus and special interest, and his social skills are parallel to my own. To me, his most base story reads as an autistic story.
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