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greenglowinspooks · 7 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

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Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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sidsinning · 2 months

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#1 thing I am the most curious about/eager for the series to explore is 1000% the Morningstar family, especially Lilith

Bc who even is Lilith in reality besides what we have seen her as in the eyes of the other characters

Clearest image we get of her is in their family portraits

We usually see her as the menacing mystery figure working in the background, but in these photos she's clearly a normal happy mom who genuinely loves her family as any mother/wife would. She's not just a smirking dominant figure with a hidden agenda. All she's doing is having fun with her family and has no qualms about showing a range of emotion.

Charlie sees her as the role model she takes after and wants to make her proud. It turns out she sees Lucifer in pretty much the same light, but with the addition of having an awkward relationship bc of the distance they've had. With Lilith she never speaks about her with any lingering awkwardness, so we can assume she's been a good mom raising Charlie this whole time.

(For those who are saying "Lilith is a bad mom bc who leaves their kid alone for 7 years???"- she is literally thousands of years old while Charlie is well into adulthood before those 7 years. It's like a business trip to them. She wasn't an absentee parent for leaving for 7 years out of Charlie's 200+. The thing that's weird is that she's not communicating with Charlie. Our girl deadass owns property with a job and employees. Just bc she's not great at it and is having Lucifer step in to help recently, doesn't make Lucifer the superior parent suddenly. He's confirmed to be a kind of shitty dad despite how much he cares for her by the creators themselves. Kind of the point of his introduction ep guys. The 7 years are a mystery to unpack. Chill tf out.)

In this flashback people are blaming Lilith for separating Lucifer and Charlie on purpose, seemingly as the cause of their distant relationship. But it feels more complicated than that, based off Lucifer's reaction.

He's sad reaching out to Charlie by the end of the flashback, but when Lilith first appears he's smiling all the same and not deterred in giving Charlie to Lilith to carry away for what reason we don't know. A normal, standard occurrence he's used to. It seems both parents have agreed it's best for Lilith to take Charlie at this age now, for whatever reason.

Was his mental health affecting his parenting too much so they decided Lilith would shoulder the bulk of the task? Maybe Lilith really did separate the two somehow for her own reasons and convinced Lucifer with it? Another mystery reason each parent agree on?

When exactly did both of them separate? When Charlie was already an adult or around the time of the flashback when Lilith was her primary caretaker as a kid? (I'm assuming adulthood since Lucifer and Lilith seemed to still be getting along in the flashback despite her emotionless face.) Why did they separate when Lucifer seems to clearly love and yearn for her all the same, still wearing his wedding ring? 😭😭😭

And ofc what is this deal she made with Adam to stay chillin on a beach in heaven, and why did Adam, a reckless narcissist who likes yappin to whoever is gonna listen, not ever reveal this fact to her family to the very end?

There is just so much to unpack with their family and Lilith is the key ingredient rn to unlocking it

Like ofc I'm looking forward to Sir Pentious in heaven, Alastor's deal, the future of the rebuilt hotel, Lucifer now being a seemingly main character in season 2, etc.

But the Morningstars,,,different level

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #charlie morningstar #sidrabbles

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the-brown-man · 2 years

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Made my first no bake cheesecake in like 8 years

#baked are superior so i havent made any other type in years #but i wanted a cheesecake to eat tonight & i had ingredients at home #so here we are

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imaginedanvrs · 3 months

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almost doesn't mean never

masterlist

summary: wanda maximoff x reader. '3 times we almost kissed, 1 time we did' trope

warnings: alcohol consumption, lots of angst

word count: 3.6k

You didn’t comment when Wanda repeatedly took fries out of your bag instead of her own, too enthralled in the story she was telling to notice what she was doing. At one point, she even took a sip from your milkshake and you weren’t sure if that was accidentally or on purpose because she had a habit of continuously trying your food whenever you had any. You would always offer to get her her own portion but she would frantically decline only to take several more sips or bites. You never minded.

“-and the moment we got back Vis already had dinner made for me,” she told you fondly, missing how your smile dropped as promptly as the anchor in your stomach.

“I suppose that was the least he could do,” you said lightly, struggling to hide your disdain for the robot. You would think that after a year of hearing your best friend tell you all about how amazing her boyfriend was that you would get the hang of pretending to like him, or better yet, stop being in love with her. It was never that easy.

“It’s not that simple for him,” Wanda defended with a soft chuckle that even the angels in heaven would have a hard time rivalling. “He has no taste buds,” she said simply. “Your cooking is far superior,” she told you, peering out at the car park and giving you the chance to admire her side profile.

The casual compliment gave you a surge of pride no matter how many times you had heard it before. It felt good to know you had something to offer the Sokovian that Vision couldn’t match, more so when it was something so important to her. You often replayed the memory of the night she was missing Pietro and dropped by your apartment unannounced to find you practising her favourite dish from her home country. It had been hard tracking down all of the ingredients you needed and it was your fourth time doing so when Wanda got to taste it, insisting you had perfected it. You hadn’t believed her until she started crying.

“I could have made something for you tonight,” you pointed out before taking a bite of your burger before Wanda decided to start on that too.

“I just needed grease,” she admitted, peering around the deserted McDonald’s car park. You were parked in the far corner and probably looked super dodgy to any strangers that spotted your car lurking in the blind spot, but Wanda liked to people-watch from the comfort of your car that she spent so much time in. She said that your car was comfier than hers.

“You need a holiday,” you corrected.

“We should take a roadtrip,” she said at once. You immediately loved the idea.

“Where do you want to go?” You asked, willing to take her to wherever came to mind.

“Anywhere,” she admitted, resting her head back to gaze at you with excitement. “I miss spending time with you,” she told you, not having a single clue how much of your days were taken up by you missing her. You didn’t see each other as much as you used to and even when you did get to hang out it wasn’t for as long as you wished. That was partly how you had developed the ritual of going to fast food car parks for your meals, it was convenient in case Wanda was suddenly pulled away. Her job required her to have one foot in her work life at all times.

“Me too,” you said. It was far safer to underplay your feelings.

The Sokovian shifted to the edge of her seat and took her hand comfortably in yours as she often did. You watched as she twirled her fingers around yours, feeling the warmth of the astonishing magic that lay beneath the surface. Her strength was incredible, everyone knew that, but it was the gentleness she coated it with that you had always been in awe of.

“Will this roadtrip be just us?” You asked even though you both knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“Of course,” she muttered, letting her fingertips dance across your palm. “Just us and the road,” she laid on with a smile. That smile made you feel things no platonic best friend should. That smile made you love her. With the way it reached her eyes when it was directed at you, it was too tempting not to pretend like her heart didn’t carry that same devotion to you, that her eyes hadn’t glanced down to your lips as she became just as lost in that fantasy as you. The electricity that charged the small space only existed in your world, because for her, it was saved for him.

The chiming of her ringtone snapped you both out of your separate thoughts and disconnected your hands just as swiftly. You didn’t have to glance over at her phone to know who it was and you shouldn’t have felt a sting when she opted to answer instead of calling him back later.

“Hey, Vis,” she said, voice so tender and yet still striking a blow.

You hated that toaster so much.

The slight murmur of Wanda reciting the lines of the character’s held your attention far greater than the original could ever hope to. She knew every episode of the sitcom by heart and you were pretty sure you were coming close to being able to say the same. She had been quiet that night, caught up in her own head about the events of her latest mission, so hearing her voice at all was a relief.

She had her head resting comfortably on your shoulder so you felt a soft vibration with every mutter of words. You smiled, not daring to move which was easy when she stunned you with her next words.

“I want to quit my job.”

“Oh?” You said casually to her statement you fully supported. You knew she had an incredible role in saving countless lives multiple times a week, but you also weren’t blind to the fact that your best friend didn’t enjoy her job. Unimaginable danger aside, no matter what she did, the public criticised her endlessly and did nothing to ease the gnawing feelings she had that she was a threat to her team and the people she helped. She had come so far in controlling her abilities, but she was only human.

“I won’t,” she said. “I just wish I could.”

“Why don’t you?” You enquired after a pause. Wanda sighed, lifting herself off of your shoulder and bringing her knees up to her chest.

“This place keeps me in check,” she admitted. You hated how she talked about herself.

“You’re not an animal or a criminal, Wanda. And this team has no possession over you. They can’t keep you here, no one can.” Except someone did. Vision was the only reason Wanda really remained on the team. He had convinced her to. But really, as long as he was an Avenger, Wanda would be too. Yet another reason for your disdain for him.

“Yeah,” she sighed, clearly not believing you.

“Wanda,” you prompted. She looked at you. “It’s your life. You can do whatever you want with it.” She still didn’t seem convinced. “If you want to run away, I can cause a distraction,” you told her, finally earning a smile from the brunette.

“I can count on you for anything,” Wanda said simply because it was the one thing she had never doubted. She had doubted her safety as a child. She had doubted Ultron’s intentions. She had doubted her team’s trust in her. She had doubted Vision’s loyalty. But she never doubted you.

“Always,” you assured without a beat. “I’ve got your back.” You wished that could have been enough for the brunette to decide that it was you she would run away with, but it was clear that if Wanda ever did opt to flee, she would take him with her and leave you behind.

“That might put you in danger one day,” she said sadly, letting her anxieties cloud her judgement.

“I don’t care.” You really didn’t. How could you?

She smiled at you softly and pulled your forwards slightly to kiss your forehead. She didn’t linger but her lips left a deeper imprint than she would ever know. You had always wondered what her lips would feel like against your skin and it was even better than you had dared dream.

When she pulled away and left a minute gap between you, there was a split second where you thought she was about to bring her lips to your own. But that moment passed when Vision casually faded through Wanda’s bedroom wall. She had told him countless times not to do that and you had to use all of your willpower not to scream at him to get out.

“My apologies, I didn’t know you had company,” he said but made no effort to turn around. “Good evening, y/n.”

“Vision,” you replied without looking his way.

“You’ve got to knock, Vis,” Wanda chuckled as you subtly placed a couple more inches between you.

“Should I come back?” He enquired.

No. Just keep floating off and never turn back.

“Yeah,” Wanda smiled warmly at him past you.

“That’s okay, I should probably head off anyway,” you excused. You had nothing planned and no work the following day so there was no legitimate reason for you to go. But if you stayed you would have just felt like they were both waiting for you to leave.

“Really?” You missed her surprise and touch of hurt at your sudden shift, watching on as you stood up from the bed to grab your jacket.

“I’ve got some errands to run tomorrow.” Lie. “And it’s getting late.” Not really.

“Okay, but I’ll still see you tomorrow, right?” The hopeful edge in her voice was going to stick with you for a while and you knew you were going to be replaying and over analysing it constantly that night. You had a way of hurting yourself with your optimism more than Wanda hurt you with reality.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you grinned back at her with sudden ease. You were only getting coffee, but there really was very little that would stop you going.

“See you then,” you called as left, purposefully ignoring her mechanical boyfriend.

As far as maid of honours went, you probably weren’t the best.

You didn’t carry the enthusiasm that any of the guests at the wedding did and it proved difficult to maintain your fake smile the entire day. You really were happy for her, your best friend was finally getting married to the love of her life, cementing your role as something far less significant. You just didn’t get it, he wasn’t even human.

The ceremony was nothing short of gorgeous. It was a small reception, Wanda had been adamant that she wanted to keep it intimate despite Tony trying to throw more and more money at the event and add more guests. But it was Wanda’s day, it was her choice.

You had never seen the Sokovian look so happy in her life, or so beautiful. You supposed the two went hand in hand, her joy had always been so warming and infectious that it was impossible not to see the perfection in it. Everything was finally coming together for her, while your world fell apart.

You didn’t acknowledge Natasha when she sat down next to you. As much as it pained you to watch, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tender slow dance the bride and groom swayed along to. She looked like a Disney Princess, her dress wrapped around her with an elegance you were in awe of.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come,” Natasha told you. You still didn’t look away.

“I couldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding,” you muttered, barely audible over the gentle music around you.

“Still, it can't be easy when you’re in love with her,” the Russian stated. You noticeably stiffened but didn’t bother to deny the fact. Your heart raced at the confirmation that your feelings weren’t a total secret, but you still knew Natasha well enough to be sure she wouldn’t tell anyone else. “No one else knows,” she assured. “Including Wanda.”

“Maybe this will be what finally makes me move on,” you wished aloud. Natasha didn’t respond, following your gaze to where the dance had come to an end. Most of the guests were beginning to disperse and you planned to do the same soon, you had already stayed longer than you had thought you could be able to.

“Carol’s into you.” You were aware of that, just as you were aware the usually confident Captain was working up the courage to ask you out. It would be good for you if you said yes. Carol was great…

“One lesbian crushing on another that’s in love with her best friend, you guys are hopeless,” Natasha quipped and you gave her your first genuine smile of the evening.

“I know, I know,” you admitted, holding your hands up and chuckling with the redhead. “I should go, see you around, Romanoff.” Natasha waved you off and watched you go with an edge of pity that she knew you would hate. As you reached the door, the redhead noticed Wanda frown in your direction and started after you, swaying in her slightly intoxicated state.

“Y/n,” she called once you were outside and finally alone. You spun around, feeling a pang of guilt that you had been caught leaving her wedding without saying goodbye.

“Hey, sorry. You looked busy and I…” you hadn’t thought of an excuse and you didn’t have the energy to lie to her anyway. “You’re married,” you stated with a shaky exhale that Wanda wouldn’t have missed if she hadn’t had a bottle of champagne to herself.

“I am!” She beamed and suddenly threw her arms around you. You hugged her back with a hesitation you had never given her before, uncomfortable and pained by the feeling of her wedding dress beneath her fingertips. You had swallowed your tears all day, but actually feeling how real it all was threatened to be too much. You just wanted to run home and cry into your pillow.

“I just,” she sighed heavily with bubbling excitement. “I’m so fucking happy right now,” she giggled and finally pulled away. “I love him so much and…” she seemed at a loss for words. You were too.

“I’m really happy for you, Wands,” you told her, ignoring how your throat felt like it was swelling to the size of a balloon. She grinned and hugged you again, holding you flush against her.

“Thanks, y/n. I can't wait for it to be your wedding day.” Her words were as rough as a sucker punch to the gut. Would you even ever have one? Surely. Right?

She barely pulled away to kiss your cheek, letting the alcohol do as it pleased and numb the feeling of your hands twitching around her waist at the act. “I hope he treats you well,” you whispered. Wanda smiled and rubbed your cheek affectionately with her thumb, as though she was about to use it to pull you closer once more. You would never know if she would or not, because you stepped away.

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you smiled, catching one last glance at the ring around her finger that glimmered under the fairy lights strung above you. They were your final reminder that your best friend was getting her happy ever after, because everything had fallen into place.

The moment your back was turned, tears streamed freely down your broken features.

You reread the offer letter for perhaps the seventh time that hour, determined to find some fault with it that you had missed before. Regrettably, you found nothing. It was the perfect promotion. Better pay, better hours, better benefits. There was an apartment available just a short walk from the office and from what you had seen from the online viewing, you couldn’t get a better deal on such an ideal place to live. There wasn’t a single flaw that was reason enough for you to turn it down, except for the fact it was on the other side of the country.

It wasn't that big a deal. People moved away all the time, it was a natural part of advancing with your life. It just meant that you would have to leave your friends behind, that you would have to leave her behind. Again, that wasn’t really a bad thing. Maybe distance was the only thing that was finally going to put an end to your insistent feelings for Wanda, who had been happily married for nearly a year. It could finally cease your reluctant ‘what ifs’.

“I knew you would be here,” she called a second before you heard the car door slam shut. You pocketed your phone and glanced behind you.

Wanda strolled up the cliff side towards you as the wind gently caressed her hair, though it didn’t seem to ease the concern written over her features. “You didn’t answer my texts,” she said as she joined you on the hood of your car and overlooked the vast ocean stretched out beyond the drop just metres ahead of you.

You knew what she was implying, you always answered her texts so she immediately suspected something was wrong. “Girl troubles?” She asked. You scoffed, Carol (sweet as she was) was the least of your concerns. You had only seen each other a handful of times and it felt more like you were hooking up than establishing something with a deeper potential.

“Not exactly,” you told her.

“Then what’s up?” She asked, nudging your shoulder lightly.

“I got a job offer,” you shrugged. Wanda’s eyes widened and she began to grin. Her excitement was infectious.

“That’s what you’re moping about?”

“It’s in California,” you said at once. Wanda’s smile wavered, but she refused to let it visibly disappear when it didn’t change the fact that you had a significant opportunity ahead of you.

“Wow,” was all she could say. “Have you talked to Carol about it?” She asked even though you both knew it didn’t make the least bit of difference to the Captain what part of the country you were in. You could be on the other side of the world and she would still visit you as frequently as she did. It was clear that the Sokovian couldn’t think of anything else to ask, but it still irked you that it was Carol’s opinion she enquired about.

“No, we don’t talk about that stuff,” you dismissed.

“Really? It’s a big deal.” You could see her frowning in your peripheral and it was no secret that Wanda had been trying to get you and the blonde to be something you couldn’t.

“It won’t make a difference to how we hook up,” you huffed, growing agitated at your best friend’s blindness to where your interests truly lied.

“I thought you two were getting closer,” she said slowly, noting your shift.

“Carol and I aren’t going to become anything more, Wanda,” you told her firmly, but she insisted on pushing you further.

“Why?” It was as if she wanted to see you snap and finally admit-

“Because she’s not you!” You exclaimed, feeling a sudden rush come over you as you let all of the lies you had been held back by all those years to finally dissipate. Wanda stared at you, stunned.

“How long?” The question was almost carried away by the breeze.

“Years,” you admitted, no point down playing the truth. It wouldn’t make it any easier.

“Y/n-” she started but you recognised her voice and you knew what was coming.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” you begged, tears brewing in your eyes as you realised this could be your long awaited breaking point in your friendship. It was inevitable. It had been since the first day you met the brunette.

You took in each other’s drastically different emotions, confirming the alternate cross roads you were about to take. But if that was to be the case, you wanted to have at least one small victory to take away. You cupped Wanda’s cheek as she had done to you so many times before, never understanding the burn you had felt at her touch at the time. She understood it then though, because the softness of your hand protected her from the winds that were picking up and made it all the more tempting to follow your lead as you closed the gap between you.

Sometimes in romance novels, they say that the first kiss was better than either of the characters had dreamt of, but that wasn’t the case with your kiss with Wanda. Sure, her lips fit perfectly against your own and yes, the faint taste of strawberry could have made you light headed with a giddy glee. But your kiss was filled with remorse and regret. There was a striking pain to the way your lips moved together and an overwhelming sense of anguish that neither of you would be able to rid yourselves of for quite some time.

Worst of all, that kiss was your unspoken goodbye.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted the chance to feel as lucky as he does,” you told her as you pulled away entirely. Wanda didn’t respond, you didn’t expect her to. She had already given you more than you ever thought possible. So you got off of the hood of your car and Wanda willed herself to do the same, standing back solemnly as you got in the vehicle she would never join you in again. She couldn’t bring herself to watch you drive, nor could you glance back at your best friend in your mirror.

My fault for falling in love with a straight girl.

#marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #marvel angst #gxg marvel

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venus-light · 10 months

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Good Omens S2’s ending is so agonising, but I do think it’s going to make Aziraphale’s development significantly more impactful in S3! As a second act this has every painful, fascinating ingredient that made Zuko’s arc in ATLA so outstanding, and Aziraphale’s core conflict/fatal flaw draws from the heart of his character!

He loves Crowley deeply but he’s still clinging to Heaven’s brainwashing, and he’s never actually treated Crowley as an equal or sought to understand Crowley��s perspective yet.

Aziraphale still seems to believe Crowley is just a ‘lost, confused angel’, rather than recognising what Crowley is actually doing: rejecting the system entirely and trying to do good on his own terms. Aziraphale still believes the desire to be Angelic and the desire to be good to others are the same thing, therefore if Crowley is good (as he’s shown himself to be) he must be secretly want to be an Angel and is betraying that whenever he argues against Heaven.

Aziraphale still hasn’t listened when Crowley explains over and over again that he DOESN’T WANT TO BE AN ANGEL. He’s still desperate for Heaven’s validation, even after he chose to leave, and there’s a deep void in his identity! He wants so desperately to be seen as “Good” (regardless of the actual morality of his actions) that it’s used over and over again to coerce and manipulate him! He also wants desperately for Crowley to be “Good” too, because at this point Aziraphale couldn’t ever let himself trust or accept Crowley if he wasn’t.

Aziraphale’s ‘angelic superiority’ is still constantly used to prop up his own identity, and he still considers deviance from Heaven (both in himself and others) as something shameful, embarrassing and in need of being ‘Corrected’. He also still believes Crowley needs/wants to be “Forgiven” by Heaven and that angels are inherently superior to everyone else!

Aziraphale’s default response to suffering being to make it about Heavenly purity rather than empathising with others also makes him extremely blind/self-centred in some situations. He’s proven that he’s willing to adopt empathy - the force that drives Crowley to compassion and forgiveness - if it helps to do good for others, but it’s still a very undeveloped skill in him.

At the start of this season Aziraphale lets Crowley sleep in his car for God’s sake, and apparently only calls Crowley when he wants something! He takes Crowley’s devotion to him for granted, and dismisses Crowley’s feelings and perspective on Gabriel instantly! Whenever they disagree on anything Aziraphale just assumes that he is Good and Crowley is Evil, therefore Crowley’s perspective isn’t worth taking seriously. And Crowley loves Aziraphale so much and is so afraid of losing him that he just… concedes. Over and over again. And keeps on forgiving him without Aziraphale ever realising how deep he’s cutting Crowley. Even now, Aziraphale still sees everything as a dichotomy between “Good” and “Evil”, “Angelic” and “Demonic”, with no middle ground or space outside of it. A worldview that fundamentally misunderstands Crowley’s entire life, moral compass and identity.

Aziraphale does love Crowley, but he still hasn’t reckoned with Heaven’s brainwashing. He still won’t ever be able to understand Crowley’s perspective until he gets the outcome he thought would fix everything, and realises that it won’t.

#good omens #thank you for all your comments & thoughts everyone!! <33 #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens season two #good omens season 2 #Aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #venus writes #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #zuko #atla #atla zuko #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens season 2 spoilers

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just-jordie-things · 9 months

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home run - inumaki toge

word count: 5.5k warnings: swearing, idk anything about baseball so it’s mostly made up summary: toge helps coach you on how to play baseball before the big game for the exchange event. you can’t stop flirting with each other. (unestablished relationship!) more info: aged up characters! jujutsu tech is a college, still usual first and second years a/n: remember when i said this edit had me in a chokehold well i wrote this forever ago for myself and the toge loving bbies :) ___

When it was announced that the second portion of the Jujutsu Exchange Event would be held via baseball game, (y/n) visibly paled. So much so that she’d been instantly teased by one of her underclassmen for her obvious discomfort.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to play baseball!” Nobara threw her head back as she cackled obnoxiously. “It’s the easiest sport!”

“Kugisaki don’t be rude” Megumi grumbled, kicking his friend in the ankle as punishment for laughing at her superior. He seemed to be the only one who cared about such formality.

The group of them, the first years and second years, had been heading back towards the building for a lunch break in between events. She dragged her feet along the path, wishing time would slow down and stop altogether before she had to step foot on that field.

“I know how to play,” (y/n) defended herself, but her hold on the strap of her sheath tightened with her anxiety. “I’m just not good at it” She admitted in a quiet voice.

“That’s okay! We’ll try to give you an easy position then!” Itadori offered kindly.

She gave the boy a weak smile, grateful for his positive attitude, but still feeling the pang of embarrassment.

How she sucked at such a simple game was beyond her. Had it been a proper duel, she would be an excellent candidate. Swinging a sword- or nunchucks or spear or axe- came easy to her. Which she was able to demonstrate in the first part of the event. She’d scored quite well for her school, even when outside forces interrupted the fun and games and things had gotten real very fast.

But when it came to swinging a bat and hitting that dumb little ball, she whiffed it almost every time. It was humiliating, knowing she had the strength to cut a head clean off a body, but couldn’t play a game that was mostly catch.

Her pace slowed until she lingered behind the rest of the group, who were busy assigning positions for the coming game. If the ground swallowed her whole for the next few hours, she wouldn’t complain.

“Tuna tuna”

Lifting her gaze she found Toge stopping in his tracks as the rest of their classmates headed up the stairs without them. Even with his collar zipped up, she could see he was smiling at her, undoubtedly pitying her helplessness.

“Put me to sleep, Toge,” She sighed dramatically, to which he chuckled. “I’m serious,” She mutters at him. “This is going to be so embarrassing, I wish we could’ve just done something else. Like archery”

He shrugs his shoulders, before glancing back at their friends again, seeing they were already headed inside, and apparently hadn’t noticed their separation from the group.

He turns back to her again, and tilts his head for her to follow him. She does so without question, partially because she didn’t want to sit through an awkward lunch where the group planned what position would be easy enough for her to handle, but partially because she had taken such a liking to him that she’d follow him anywhere he tried to take her.

This wasn’t new. Since the day they met the two of them had been close, hitting it off like they were old friends reunited. His cursed speech never proved to be an obstacle, it hadn’t taken long for (y/n) to understand him as if onigiri ingredients was her foreign language choice in grade school, and she made an effort to always ensure they were having proper conversations that she’d have with anyone else.

Well, not entirely. She didn’t exactly flirt with everyone else or whisper with hushed giggles with everyone else, but you get the point. They clicked.

It doesn’t dawn on her where he’s leading them until they’re approaching the baseball field, and when they do, she lets out an exasperated groan.

“Toge, no” She whines, giving him pleading eyes to spare her from more embarrassment.

He rolls his eyes back at her, and grabs her by the wrist to drag her along the rest of the way when she tries to plant her feet and stay put. She could go boneless and let him literally drag her, but she stumbles and follows along anyways. Perhaps once he saw how terrible she truly was at the sport, he’d give up on helping her practice and ditch her out here.

Although she knew this couldn’t possibly be a real possibility. He wasn’t capable of doing such a thing.

“Salmon!” He cheers when he finds that all of the equipment for the event had been prepared, helmets and gloves sitting neatly on the bleachers, and a tall basket of baseball bats ready to be used.

He pulled one out, smacking the head of the club in his other hand as though to analyze it, even though they were all brand new and had never been touched.

He looks up at (y/n) with a grin that just barely peeks out of his collar. She frowns back at him.

“Don’t do this to me,” She pleads. “I thought we were friends”

He laughs again, and tosses her the bat without warning. At least her reflexes are sharp enough that she catches it without difficulty.

“Salmon!” He cheers for her, and she shoots him a more deadly look.

“I can catch things,” She mutters, turning her gaze to the bin of baseballs and the gloves lined up on the bleachers. “It’s the rest that I’m shit at”

He scoffs at her in disbelief, but he had yet to see the proof. (y/n) chewed on the inside of her cheek as she watched him select his own bat, and then nod at her to follow him to the plate.

If she ran away, he probably wouldn’t chase her down, she figured as she followed him up to the white rubber base- just as untouched as the rest of the equipment. She dismisses the idea just as quickly as it crosses her mind though. She wasn’t capable of ditching him, either.

Toge gestures for her to stand a bit in front of him as he takes his stance at the plate. She does so, holding the hilt of the bat loosely as she rests it on her shoulder. He continues to gesture for her to understand what he’s doing. First it’s to his feet, spread evenly but not too far from one another, just enough to keep his balance solid. Then he bends his knees the slightest, probably to give him a good range of motion. She could understand this much.

Then he holds his bat out towards her as he carefully maneuvers his hands around it’s handle. His grip tightens, and then he looks up at her expectantly, as though asking, got it?

She nods back at him wordlessly, and then he goes back into straightening up his stance. Her eyes track every movement with intense precision, wanting to commit every detail to memory. From the angle that his left elbow rests at, to where he holds the bat just behind himself, ready for the swing.

He raises his eyebrows at her, which she doesn’t notice right away since she’s too busy studying everything about his stance rather than his face. She could almost hear the teasing voice behind the look he’s giving her. Good, right?

“Mustard leaf?” He asks, in that exact tone she’d heard in her head.

“Yeah yeah, I got it” She nods.

He nods back at her, and then slowly goes through the motion of a swing, so she could clock every detail. After he finishes the follow through, he repeats the motion properly, swinging the bat with full force. Enough so that she can hear the aluminum cutting through the air.

He asks his question again when he’s done, and again, she nods at him.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” She says. “Should I pitch for you?”

Toge shakes his head and waves his hand for her to come up to the plate. When she stops just in front of him, he giggles, and drops his bat to the ground so he can reach out and take hold of her shoulders, so he can properly guide her to the base.

Despite the way her face heats up when he keeps his hands on her as she tries to copy the way he’d just been standing there, she doesn’t mind feeling a little shy about it. Feeling shy around Toge wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as having him teach her this simple sport.

In fact, it was never embarrassing to be reduced to a blushing mess around him. It happened too often for her to feel any shame in it, but it helped that she often brought the same behavior out of him, too. She just couldn’t see his pink cheeks when he’s standing behind her, mumbling unintelligibly as she took her stance.

She’s certain of herself once she raises the bat behind her shoulder, almost knocking him in the head, but Toge swerves and hopes she doesn’t notice.

“How’s that?” She asks with confidence.

His hands fall from her shoulders as he checks her over, and he winces behind his collar. His lack of response has her looking over her shoulder with a frown.

“Really?” The confidence is zapped out of her straight away.

He chuckles, and shrugs his shoulders with a small smile as if to ease her worry. Then his hands are on her again, guiding her arms to the proper places where she’d have the best range of motion. The toe of his shoe taps the inside of her left foot, silently prompting her to slide it out just a bit further. She follows the instruction until he raises his hand. Then he gives her a beam and a nod of his head to confirm she was positioned just right.

“You’re sure?”

“Salmon” He reaffirms.

He steps back then, twirling his finger around in the air so that she could show him her swing. She looks unsure, but she lets out a breath and lets her body follow through as naturally as she could.

She feels good about it, but she doesn’t know any better. When she looked over to Toge again, he had just unzipped his collar, ready to cheer when she swung just fine. Instead, he wears what she would call his polite smile. It was his friendly way of displaying something wasn’t quite right, but he was too nice to critique harshly. (y/n) frowns back at him.

“That bad?” She asks quietly when he approaches her again.

His smile brightens and he shakes his head at her. He was far too nice to her. If Maki was training her, she gladly would have laughed in her face before barking out orders on how to shape up.

Toge hand waves about, telling her to take her stance again. This time her footing is just right, and he beams proudly at the improvement. She manages a smile back at him, his silent praise giving her a little more confidence in learning.

He does a little circle around her, making sure everything is as it should be. There’s a pause in his step just behind her, where she’s holding her bat.

“Bonito flakes” He pats his hand over once of hers, and she fixes up her grip on the handle, then turns to look at him.

“Like that?” She asks, not sure of what her mistake had been.

It must not have been fixed, because he reaches his hand to hers, gently fingers prodding at her hand in silent instruction until she loosends her hold. He quickly raises his hand away again, giving her a thumbs up. Her grip was still secure, but her knuckles weren’t white with tension now.

After that, Toge comes behind her again, poking at the top of the baseball bat before giving her an affirmative nod to take a swing.

She does as told, slowly of course, so as not to smack him in the face on her follow through. He stops her before she even finishes, his hand patting her shoulder so she’d fix up her stance again. Third time was the charm, and her posture and hold are perfect as she straightens up.

“Tuna” The quiet instruction to pay attention is whispered in her ear as he takes a small step closer so that he could guide her properly through the swing.

One hand lays over hers on the handle of the bat, and the other slides around her opposite arm until it stops at her elbow. Her face is so hot now she wishes she was wearing one of those dumb helmets to at least hide it a little.

He guides her through the motion slowly, his hand on her elbow wobbling a little. It takes her a second to catch up, but she realizes he’s telling her that her swing was uncoordinated. She nods in understanding.

Before she gets the chance to take her stance again, he’s already guiding her back to the proper position, his eyes studying her grip carefully to be sure everything is in order.

He’s so close now that she can feel his soft breaths on the back of her neck, and baseball is quickly becoming the furthest thing from her mind. The hand that is resting on hers is so soft but so firm in it’s hold, making sure she didn’t strengthen or loosen her grip in the slightest. If she shuffled back even an inch, her back would hit his chest. It’s unbearably hot today, she’s grateful she thought to tie her hair up so it wouldn’t stick to the back of her neck, but she has half the mind to close those last pesky inches of space between them.

“Mustard leaf?” Toge’s hand pats at her elbow, beckoning her to pay attention. He must’ve noticed she’d zoned out.

“Sorry,” She mumbles, snapping back to reality. “You’re being distracting”

She’s scolding him, he can tell in the tone that she doesn’t mean it to be one of her more usual flirty comments. Nonetheless, Toge preens, grinning down at her, even though she was trying to avoid looking at him. It was hard, seeing as he was right there, and even standing behind her he was tall enough that he could see a blush creeping up her cheeks.

This time, rather than let her swing on her own, he moves her through the motions himself. It’s horribly slow, especially when her swing reaches it’s apex and he’s pulled even closer from the motion. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she struggles to keep her focus on paying attention to her form.

“Salmon” Toge gives her a smile as he finishes guiding her through the follow through. He’s certain she has the technique down now, but when she looks at him, her expression is defeated. His brows furrowed in confusion. “Mustard leaf?”

“This isn’t going to work,” She huffs, lowering the bat until it almost hits the ground. “It’s too..” She trails off, waving her free hand around in a sporadic motion. “Too much!”

He seems to catch her drift, his shoulders shaking as he chuckles at her.

“Don’t laugh at me”

He sticks his bottom lip out at her in a dramatic pout.

Her brows pinch together before drawing upwards, pleading with him not to mess with her more than he already had.

“I’m sorry I’m not getting it!” She cried, her leg bouncing with her irritation. “But you’re the worst teacher!”

“Bonito flakes!” He took offense to the comment, and (y/n) gave him a deadpan look.

“You know what I mean,” She says in a quieter volume.

He tilts his head and feigns a confused expression, just to watch her blush and squirm.

“You’re being a jerk you know” She tells him, her eyes locked on his even when he walks closer and grins in her face. He’s waiting expectantly for her to explain what he already knew.

He flustered her. It wasn’t the first time, and most certainly wasn’t the last. But truthfully, Toge hadn’t been aiming to flirt with her. He just wanted to help her out with her swing. Seeing her blushing and flustered was just an added bonus.

She’s the first to surrender.

“Okay fine,” She lets out a heavy breath and raises her bat again. “Show me one more time, then you can pitch for me”

Toge’s grin is plastered on his face as he repositions himself again, but this time she swears he’s standing just a little closer than before as he guides her hand and elbow through her swing.

He lets out a low whistle when he draws her back again so they can practice through it one more time, even though (y/n) was certain now that she had it down. She starts to pull away, but before she can tell him that she thinks she has it now, he tuts at her and drags her back towards him. This time her back does hit his chest, and she doesn’t protest again.

Even though her footing is all off, and there’s no way she could deliver a proper swing when his chin is tucked against her shoulder where her bat should hover. He’s close enough that he can see- and hear- the heavy gulp she swallows. He giggles at her before pulling away the hand he had on her elbow. He lets out a small mumble of an onigiri ingredient she doesn’t quite catch because his breath is hitting the crook of her neck and he’s just so close that she feels dizzy. He brings his hand up to her neck, knuckles skimming over the nape and then along the junction of her shoulder so he could pull away the few strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail.

She giggles at the ticklish feeling, and he forgets that he’s supposed to be coaching her as he raises his fingers to brush over the spot again. This time she tilts her shoulder as she laughs again, a jerky motion as the muscle reacts on it’s own accord, but it brings his face closer to hers as she does so. He laughs to himself just from hearing her giggles as he continues to tease the sensitive spot.

“Toge!” She tries to shove him away, but he’s quick to drop his other hand from where she had a hold on the bat, wrapping his arm around her front and holding her hip firmly so she couldn’t wiggle away from him. He laughs almost too joyfully as she continues to giggle and squirm in his hold. “Toge! Qu-quit it!” She stammers over the relentless giggles he forces out of her, and it seems to only spur him on further.

She’s reduced to broken gasps between her fits of laughter, and the bat falls from her hand before she realizes. Even when it bounces on the sand and rolls across the ground she doesn’t pay it any mind, too busy using her free hand to try to grab at his arm and get him to loosen his hold on her.

Her attempts are futile. His hold on her is firm, and even when she gets a good grip on his sleeve, he retaliates by keeping her snug against him, and then lifting her off the ground altogether. Her feet kick and scramble, somewhat from the lack of ground beneath them, more-so from the way her body reacts to his continued tickling. Both of her hands are now occupied by gripping onto his arms to keep her anchored somehow, but even in the delirious state he’s sinking her into, she knows he wouldn’t drop her.

Eventually Toge’s laughing at her too much to care about continuing to tickle her, even though he took great amusement in it, he was now entertained enough by having her in his arms, even if she was kicking at the air for him to put her down.

She’s shouting his name between bursts of giggles that still escape her like after shocks. The sudden bout of goofiness from him is a little lost on her, but even as she hollers at him to put her down, her threats are empty. She sinks into his hold and accepts whatever fate he has in store for her.

Her head tilts back until it hits his shoulder, and she can just barely peek up at him. His face is split with a grin, lavender eyes hooded and dazed as he gazes back down at her.

Toge’s never needed words to flirt with her. Sure sometimes his texts had certain incriminating emojis, and the notes he’d pass her in class were also damning evidence of his affections. But (y/n) could feel all of that coming from him just from the way he looks at her, like right now. He had an intense gaze, and she was sure that if she was brave enough to not break away from the eye contact, that she could penetrate his mind and read his thoughts directly.

Finally, he sets her down, his grip on her loosening, just as her hands on his forearms did once she had her feet on the ground again. She giggles at him, giving him a cheeky little smile as she turns to properly face him. Her hands take hold of his wrists as she ensures the proximity between them doesn’t shift too much.

Logically they should get back to perfecting her swing, the lunch break would be over soon and the game would begin shortly after. Not that logic is able to cling onto a single thought in her starry eyed stupor. She looked up at him like he was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen, softening before him in her gaze and the smile on her lips.

She had been patient, at least she thinks she has. She’s enjoyed the little game they’d been playing, the lingering touches, the flirty remarks met with longing gazes. Their mannerisms were anything but platonic, and if anyone were to snatch their phones they’d scramble to delete their messages with each other.

But it had been quite some time of this game as she’d affectionately referred to their… whatever this was. And her patience was wearing thin waiting for him to make a move. She didn’t know what he was waiting for, she was certain that she’d made her position clear. Especially now, clinging onto him and staring up at him expectantly. It was just the two of them, and they were so close, it wouldn’t take much for him to just fucking kiss her already-

Toge’s movements are quick as he pulls his arms so his wrists fall out of her hold, only for him to squeeze her hands quickly before moving past her.

“Tuna mayo” He beckons her to follow him back to the plate, but she’s stunned in place for a minute.

Did he really just brush that off? She shook her head as she went back to home plate, picking up her bat and tapping it against the ground to shake off the excess sand that had clung to it when she’d dropped it. Had she not communicated well enough through her eyes? She’d stared at him with her best ‘kiss me now!’ look. Her brow furrowed as she watched Toge grab a glove and baseball from the leftover equipment.

He jogs out to the pitcher’s mound, giving her a thumbs up and an affirmative cheer. With a determined look on her face, (y/n) straightens up her stance, her hands curling around the handle on the bat until muscle memory took over and she found the correct hold on it.

Toge throws a perfect pitch, his movements clean as his long limbs work in harmony to send the baseball hurtling towards her. Her eyes never leave the ball as she tightens her grip, takes the smallest of steps forward, and swings.

The crack sounds so loud the aluminum trembles in her hold from the harshness of her hit. Even Toge’s impressed enough that he’s frozen as his eyes follow the flight of the ball over his head. He was confident in her ability, after some coaching anyways, but he wasn’t expecting such a solid swing. Had Jujutsu Tech gone the cheap route and got wooden bats, he was certain this one would’ve been ruined.

As if having the same thought, their eyes simultaneously rip away from the ball’s trajectory towards the outfield, and they look at each other expectantly.

They both break into a full sprint in opposite directions. (y/n) drops the bat haphazardly as she takes off for first base, and Toge’s racing to the outfield in the hopes of miraculously catching the ball before it lands. However, it’s already begun it’s descent so the odds are slim to none.

(y/n) knows she should keep her focus on running and hitting all the bases properly, but she can’t help but throw her head over her shoulder to keep an eye on Toge. He scrambles to grab the ball just as she’s touching second base.

She squeals with delight when he makes a break for home plate, and tries to push herself to run faster, but she’d already decided to give this run of the bases her full power, seeing as it was just the two of them.

He’s gaining on her when she crosses third, and a string of laughter escapes her from the anticipation. It’s not a real game, but her competitive nature had been tapped into as soon as she struck that ball, and now all she cares about is winning.

As home plate nears she can feel Toge getting closer. She doesn’t dare look at him again, instead opting to do whatever it took to get her on that plate before he can. Her heart is racing, she’s panting for air, the sun is beating down impossibly hotter, but she doesn’t care. She’s about to take the win.

Toge has other plans, darting around her and coming up on the plate with more speed than before. She gasps in offense at his drive to take this from her, but it sparks that competitive fire in her again, and she comes up with a faster plan.

With as much momentum stored as possible, she drops to the ground. She falls with grace but hits the sand unceremoniously. The course grit is uncomfortable on her skin as she slides across the ground with the force of her body weight. Her dominant leg is outstretched, foot angled outwards in the hopes of touching that damn white plate before he can.

She cheers in premature victory when she feels the brush of solid rubber against her sneaker.

The pride is short lived when she feels another foot collide with hers just as the rest of her body is sliding over the plate, and before she can stop herself, she’s effectively tripped Toge right off his feet, and he’s falling to the ground.

They both barely let out a yelp in surprise before he’s crashing into her. He just barely braces himself with his palms hitting the sandy ground on either side of her head, so his full weight doesn’t hit her, but she’s still properly knocked the wind out of him.

The look of shock on her face fades away as she begins to giggle. The corners of her eyes crinkle and her smile only grows wider as the giggles grow louder.

“I did it!” She cheers loudly, even though his face is inches away from hers. “I hit a home run!”

“Bonito flakes” Toge mutters, and she’s not sure if he’s cursing for her knocking him down or if he’s correcting her because technically in a real game that wouldn’t be a home run, but she doesn’t care.

She ignores his indignation completely. Her hands shoot up, grabbing either side of his unzipped collar, earning a startled look in response from the sudden impact.

Her eyes light up, and Toge blinks to make sure he’s reading this look right. The way her lashes grow heavy as her eyes flicker in between his a few times, before lowering to rest on his lips.

His lips? She’s looking at his lips?

In her moment of not paying attention, his own gaze lowers, mentally tracing the soft edges of her smile. He thinks he’s quick when he brings his line of sight back to hers, but she’s staring right at him again, and her smile is brightening, having caught the glance.

“Just kiss me already”

She’s barely finished the command and he’s obeying it like she was the one who bore the snake eyes and fangs. Leaning down the rest of the way so quickly his hands shuffle in the sand to fix his center of gravity before his lips slant over hers. She kisses him back instantly, and with fervor, her soft lips moving against his in a quick pace.

Once Toge has a good balance, he shifts so that he only needs to hold himself up with one hand, so that the other can gently cradle her jaw. His fingers skim over her neck before resting in her hair. He’s getting sand all over her skin, but she’s already covered in the stuff from her showboating slide to home plate, so he figures she won’t mind.

She hums in delight as her own hands begin to travel. The sound is heaven to his ears, and his nose prods against hers as he moves to deepen their kiss. She’s tracing over his shoulders and then the nape of his neck before diving into the soft strands of platinum blonde that aren’t even damp. Seriously, didn’t they do the same amount of sprinting just now? He didn’t break a sweat?

The thought makes her let out a little chuckle, and their kiss finally breaks when she does.

Toge’s brow furrows at her in the slightest, wondering what she could find so humorous, but she looks so pretty like this- laughing, beneath him, with kiss swollen lips that were his doing- that he doesn’t even mind. He just admires her while she blinks a few times to ease her vision to the sunlight.

“It’s nothing,” (y/n) mumbles when she sees the faint confusion in his expression. “Was just startin’ to think you’d never make a move”

Toge chuckles back at her, finding some humor in the comment. He’d been waiting for her, she was the one with all the flirty remarks after all, but he won’t complain. He could tease her about it later.

He leans back so she could sit up properly, and takes her hand to help her up to her feet with him. She begins to awkwardly brush the sand off of her clothes, but quickly realizes it’s no use and gives up. They share a laugh at her weak attempt to dust off.

“Have you guys been out here this whole time!?”

A distant holler steals their attention, and their classmates are making their way to the field. Toge frowns at the realization that their alone time was over, and now they had to gear up for the finale of the Exchange Event.

(y/n) notices the sour look, and squeezes his hand to bring his attention back to her.

“Hey, how about another game?” She suggests with a glint of excitement in her eye that should make him nervous, but he nods eagerly. “If we win this game, we can hang out in my room after,” She suggests, and then her cheeks turn pink. “And make out some more?” She adds in a softer tone, the confidence in the offer evaporating as soon as she’s actually saying the words out loud.

Toge’s face lights up as he nods in agreement to her rules.

“What!?” Panda’s voice booms and echoes throughout the field, and was likely heard even past that.

Toge and (y/n) share a wince. They’d conveniently forgotten about Panda’s enhanced hearing abilities.

Judging from the curious looks from the others and Panda’s erratic movements as he spoke, it was clear that he was telling everyone else what he’d overheard as well.

“Cheer for me when I hit a home run?” (y/n) beams at Toge, who nods back at her happily. He raises his hand, sticking his thumb and pinky out before shaking his hand in a ‘hang loose’ motion. A simple action he did often to show support for his friends.

“Salmon” He affirms.

“Okay, I’ll cheer for you too” She says sweetly, standing on the tips of her toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, before making her way to their approaching friends, eager to tell them about her success with baseball.

They were more curious about the bases she hit with their resident cursed speech user rather than the actual bases of the game.

… then again, so was she.

___

a/n: breathe if u want me to write a part two where they celebrate winning the game teehee

xoxo ~ jordie

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