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yoongiseesawmp3 · 2 months

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u got it bad - san (m)

summary: baseball player!san x reporter!reader. you've been covering your local team for years. the players, the coaches, everybody knows you. except for newbie choi san. he just joined the team, but he knows you from somewhere...maybe the bar last night?

word count: 14.5k

warnings: lots of baseball jargon, afab reader, sex (some protected some not), thigh riding, oral (barely. m receiving tho), a little cockwarming

masterlist

you love your job. as a kid, you always dreamed of working here, walking into this stadium every day, and doing what you loved most. granted, back then you were imagining yourself as one of the players, but oh well. a girl can still dream, right?

you landed the job as sideline reporter for your favorite baseball team right out of college. they wanted someone willing to stick around for a while, and you recall telling them in your interview, "if i start working here, you'll never be able to get rid of me." they loved it, and they loved that you were a hometown supporter. it made your stories more meaningful, gave you a point of view that fans could appreciate. you were able to write touching pieces on the players, give the season the dramatic arc on camera that it deserved, and you treated everyone at the team with respect. that respect went both ways, with the players, coaches, front office staff...everyone knew who you were and included you as if you were a part of the team.

you had to work hard for that respect. it didn't take long for you to prove yourself, but it did take several sleepless nights and countless overtime hours to become the reporter you are. you know everything about this team, and that's what makes you so good.

because you know eveything, you obviously know that they're close to signing star right fielder choi san. you've heard talk that it's basically done, he flew in this morning and is set to sign his contract first thing tomorrow. of course, you had memorized his past work jumping around the league as soon as the rumors started. it was your job, after all, to know these things. you knew he was great on the field, that was easy, but everyone loved him in the dugout. he's the kind of player that remembers everyone's names, brings gifts for the team around the holidays, asks about your family when he sees you. he's a stand up guy, you hear.

you've also heard that he likes to play the field outside of the stadium, if you catch my drift. he's very popular with the ladies in whatever city he deems to call home for that season, and as you walk through your favorite bar outside the stadium, you can tell the women here already know choi san is close by.

one thing you do not know is that san is in this bar, right now. yes, he's signing his contract tomorrow, but he wanted to visit the stadium today, when it was still quiet. he likes getting the feel of a team before he joins, so he wandered around the empty stadium a few times before coming here to clear his head. upon entering, he sees his face plastered on all the tvs as espn does a deep dive into what his move here might mean. he thought he was screwed, that people would immediately notice him, but so far so good. he's got a nondescript cap on and dark sweats, so he hopes his booth in the corner is enough to keep him hidden while he has a celebratory pint. he doesn't report to training until day after tomorrow, so he thought he could treat himself tonight.

as he sits and drinks, soaking in the atmosphere, he has to laugh. he wants to stay hidden, but really, with his likeness and his entire career plastered on every screen above the bar, you'd think someone would know. at least look at him and make a comment about the resemblance. but it doesn't seem like anyone here knows a thing.

except you. as you sit at the bar, swirling the straw in your glass, you take a look around. there's some regulars that smile and wave, but for the most part it's not that busy. maybe that's what makes him stand out more. your eyes fall on choi san, all star right fielder and the newest member of your team, trying to hide in the corner. but his sharp eyes and broad shoulders alert you immediately that the subject of all your recent studies is here. and he's staring at you. you stare back, and he quirks an eyebrow, almost like a challenge.

you take the bait and make your way to his table.

"anyone sittin' here?" you ask in a slight southern accent, and san smiles. it's been a while since he played in the south. he forgot how charming it can be. maybe he'll catch himself a southern belle while he's here.

"saved it for you," he smirks, and you hum as you sit across from him. he sees your almost empty glass and states, "looks like you need another."

"ah, i probably shouldn't," you shake your head. "got an early morning."

"me too," san nods, that smirk still comfortably on his face. "so what's your name, beautiful?"

"y/n," you reply. you try not to let your heart flutter at the nickname, or the way he's staring at you, but it's hard. "yours?"

"san," he says simply. "you from here, y/n?"

"born and raised," you answer. "you new to the city?"

"you could say that," he sighs. "just moved here for work, but i've visited a couple times."

"how are you likin' it so far?"

"to be honest?" he makes a face. "it's kind of boring."

"excuse me?" you're taken aback. you don't take kindly to people badmouthing your hometown, and you don't like the mischievous spark in san's eyes as he continues.

"well, girl as pretty as you not taking me up on my offer of another round, that's no fun is it?" he teases.

"ahah," you laugh halfheartedly. "sure, i can see why that would upset you."

"i'm not upset, doll, just disappointed."

"well, hate to disappoint you further, but i really do have an early morning," you say as you start to rise. "just saw a stranger sittin' all by his lonesome and thought i would say hi."

"i'm glad you did," san raises his glass to you. "maybe i'll see you around?"

"maybe," you shrug, trying to bite back a smile. "nice meeting you san."

you feel his eyes on you as you return your glass to the bar, waving goodbye to the bartender before you head to the door. you turn before you leave, meeting san's eyes across the room, and you just smile to yourself as you step outside.

san is the first one in the clubhouse the next day. he loves the smell of an empty locker room, untainted by the man stench that inevitably comes with a roomful of athletes. he smiles warmly as he walks in and sees his locker decorated in welcome. he's looking through all the gifts, some regulation equipment he asked for and some just goodies from the team, as the players start slowly arriving.

the first to arrive is jongho. he's the catcher, and san finds it easy to talk to him. he seems quiet, but most catchers are the stoic type, so maybe jongho will open up to him in time. the next guy in has the opposite issue. wooyoung, the shortstop, immediately claps san into a hug, babbling a mile a minute about how great it's gonna be to have him on the team.

san gets stuck talking to wooyoung for a while, which he doesn't mind. they get along quickly, but as they talk the rest of the team trickles in. hongjoong, the second baseman, waves to san from across the room. seonghwa, the left fielder, carefully places his things into the locker next to san's, then gives san a wordless handshake and a warm smile. yunho, the first baseman, is spread out at the locker to san's right. mingi, the third baseman, is next to him. wooyoung finally leaves for his locker next to hongjoong, and next to him is yeosang, the center fielder. pitchers must not report today, because san scans the room and counts eight.

he checks the time and notices he's almost late for his press conference, so he gets to work getting dressed before someone appears at his side to escort him down the hall. she works in media relations and gives him the run down of the conference, explaining that the coach will do a quick intro before san comes up to say a few words. they'll shake hands, he'll sign his contract, and then take a few questions before reporting to more press stuff. nothing he hasn't done before, but san still brushes his sweaty hands on his pants to calm his nerves as they enter.

san hears the chatter of the press die down as their eyes fall on him. it's a big room, lots of reporters and cameras, and he smiles and waves as he gets ushered to the side of the makeshift stage in the front. the coach steps up then, welcoming everyone and giving a bit of insight on why they wanted to sign san. this team desperately needed a right fielder, so in all the negotiations it was basically just their operations team begging san to come play for them. the coach paints it a different way, and san does his best to grab onto a few phrases so he can sprinkle them into his own speech. the coach calls him up and san takes a seat next to him, falling smoothly into his regular "happy to be here, excited at the opportunity" spiel. he scans the room and recognizes a few faces, so he gets more comfortable as he goes on.

"i think at the end of the day, i'm looking for a team that i can be with for a long time," san starts to conclude. "and so far, i'm really liking it here. maybe this will be that team."

he goes through the motions of signing, shaking hands, posing for pictures, and then settles back into his seat for the question portion. at his other teams, he's been allowed to pick the press he talks to, so he scans the room for familiar faces, but media relations steps in and starts calling names. the first one takes him by surprise, and a smile grows on his face as he sees who steps up.

"y/f/n, local news," you smile back at san as the recognition crosses his features. "you said you're liking the city so far? can i ask what makes you think this team, this franchise, will be the one to make you stay?"

"you were at the bar last night," he responds, and you feel yourself blush. a chuckle ripples through the crowd of reporters as san goes on. "sorry, just. this is a surprise, is all."

"i agree," you quip back. "because yesterday you told me you didn't like this city. so i'm just wondering what made you change your mind."

"honestly? the people," he answers sincerely, holding your gaze. "it's hard to explain, but things feel...different here. i've never been with a team where the players are so welcoming, the staff is so kind, and the reporters are hanging out at local bars after hours." another laugh. "so i think this franchise might have more of the culture i've been missing from those other teams i've played for. that answer your question, y/n?"

"yep," you give him a satisfied nod. "happy to have you here, san."

"happy to be here," he smiles, and you swear the lights from all the cameras make his teeth sparkle. he keeps staring at you as media relations calls for the next question, and only when his attention is no longer on you do you realize that your heart is beating too fast.

today's only a press day for the boys, there's no actual training that needs to happen, but that doesn't mean the clubhouse is calm. no, actually, there's more people here than there will be for the rest of the season, what with all the camera crews and a few stylists running around. oh, and the fact that everyone who works here wants to get a peek at choi san. he left the press conference and saw a group down the hall, staring and whispering. san wasn't sure which way to go to find the locker room, so he approaches the group with a smile. turns out it's front office staff, part timers, anyone who works here that needed to see san with their own eyes to believe he's really playing here. he's charming as ever, learning everyone's names, signing things, taking pictures. he even stands by happily as an older woman calls her grandsons, and they laugh together as the little boys squeal in excitement.

san stays until everyone has what they wanted, which must have taken a while, because he sees the press trickling out toward the exit. he keeps his eyes peeled for one person in particular, and when you pass through the doors and turn san's way, he smiles. you stop, eyes focused on the notebook you're furiously scribbling in, so you don't see him. that won't do, san thinks, so walks over and stops in front of you with a sigh.

"what do you want san," you ask it as a statement, eyes not moving from your notes.

"how'd you know it was me?"

"i know everything," you look up then, meeting his smile with one of your own. "and you've got cleats on, so i knew it wasn't anybody from your fan club coming to ask for my notes."

"my fan club?" he laughs, but you can tell it boosts his ego. "i think they're just fans of the team."

"are you always like this?" you ask thoughtfully, and san says he doesn't know what you're talking about. "you're not cocky, but you're humble, and you're cocky about being humble. does that make sense?" you stop to scribble that down, and san tries again to see what else you've written. you catch him this time, tugging the notes just out of his line of sight. "don't you have pictures to take?"

"how'd you-"

"i told you, i know everything," you joke again, taking a moment to stuff your pen back in your bag. that leaves your notebook unattended, and san snatches it, running a few steps down the hall with evil glee. you stomp after him and fail in grabbing it from his eager hands.

"hey, this is good," san reads, his eyes scanning the paper. "you write all your stuff by hand?"

"depends," you shrug. "i started getting bored at the end of that talk and i needed to organize my thoughts."

"oh i can tell you were bored," san smirks, his eyes flicking to you. "i like the doodle of me."

"that doodle could be of anybody," you say as you finally snatch your notebook back. you put it securely in your bag as san continues to look smug.

"i think it was a doodle of me," he says as he starts walking away. "if you ever want me to sit for another portrait, you know where to find me, doll."

"where ya goin'?" you ask him, and he stops. he looks down the hall in front of him back towards you with his thumb pointing behind him.

"to the locker room?"

"that's this way dummy," you point, and you're pleased to see his ears turn red as he corrects his steps. you're heading to the exit, so you walk in the same direction briefly. san slows his steps to keep up with you, and he's so close that his hand keeps brushing yours.

"looks like this is where i leave ya, doll," he sighs, and you wave as you keep walking. "i'll see you soon?"

"you'd like that wouldn't you?" you turn around with a smirk, watching san as you push through the doors to the parking lot. "bye san."

san loves the first practice of the season. he loves the feeling of walking onto a brand new field, seeing the empty stadium ahead. at his his other teams, he's had to make this walk alone, his former teammates usually more reserved or too good to talk to him. not here, though. as he takes the field, he finds himself engrossed in a deep argument with jongho and wooyoung about the best world series team of all time, and san feels giddy. he feels like he did when he was a kid, playing ball with his friends, and it's only the first day of practice! imagine what an entire season here would be like. every day, san is thankful he made this move.

another reason for san to be happy he's here is, well, you. working with the press at other teams wasn't exactly a thrill, but rather a part of the job he had to get through. here he's eager to give a statement, always willing to join a press conference, just to have the chance of messing with you.

as he makes the long walk to the outfield for warm ups, san sees someone by the visitor's dugout who's not in uniform. he squints a little in the early morning sun and sees that it's a woman, but assumes it's someone from the front office. he keeps walking, but a laugh echoes out and san turns back to this mystery woman.

"y/n?" he shouts, holding his glove over his eyes to see if that'll block out the sun. sure enough, you turn from your talk with the managers to send him a wave, and that giddy feeling san had walking onto the field is back. "what are you doing here?"

"my job!" you shout back, and with that you go back to work. one of the coaches jogs by san then, tossing a baseball in his direction.

"stop shoutin', son," he says. "go throw that in left field. seonghwa will take you through the warm ups, then we'll come together for drills."

"yes sir," san nods, jogging over to his teammate. he steals one last glance at you, and he swears the sunlight makes you glow.

san is exhausted after practice. he knew playing for this team would challenge him, but damn. he's sore and it's only the first day! he's still catching his breath as the team mills about around him, and yunho smirks as he alerts the boys to san's condition.

"i think we wore the superstar out," yunho laughs, and san throws one of his sweaty towels at him. yunho screams and tosses it back, but mingi jumps in to grab it. "what the hell are you doing?"

"this is a sweaty towel used by the choi san," mingi says with importance. "do you know how much i could sell this for?"

"guys, come on," san laughs, snatching the towel back. "i'm not a superstar."

"says the superstar," wooyoung mumbles, and san contemplates throwing the towel again but decides not to, mingi is still close by.

"no, we get it," hongjoong assures him. "just because the press is saying that doesn't mean it's true. you're a part of the team, so you're a team player, right san?"

"yes, exactly-"

"please, i hope everybody is decent!" a familiar voice shouts from the doorway, and san smiles when he finds you standing there. you've got your notebook over your eyes to hide any naked players, but a quick sweep tells san that everyone is dressed for the most part.

"wait, wait!" jongho shouts as he fights to put a clean shirt on. some of the boys chuckle at him while san says, "dude, she's probably seen a guy shirtless before."

"but she's a lady, san," jongho insists. "it's not polite. and i don't like to have my nips out when i'm giving quotes."

"that's why he's my favorite," you say, finally risking a peek. "all good?"

to be honest, san is a little shocked you're here. it's kind of odd for a reporter to be in the locker room after a regular practice, but he trusts this team and how they run things. most importantly, he trusts you. but his shock holds true as you greet the team while making your way straight toward him.

"aw, she's just here for superstar," mingi pouts, and you make him hush.

"i have to publish my story on him today and need to check quotes," you explain. "i'm coming for you next, mingi."

as mingi celebrates, you surprise san further by walking right up to him and taking the seat by his locker. you're flipping through your notebook as he watches you, and after a few seconds you look at him then pat the bench next to you.

"come on, get cozy," you tell him. "you spoke too fast yesterday and i didn't catch all of your answers."

"because you were too busy doodling?" san teases, taking a seat exceptionally close to you.

"that was after you," you explain, but san sees your ears turn red. "can you look through this and tell me if anything rings a bell?"

"y/n, you may be good at your job, but you have shit handwriting," san says after staring at the page long enough for your chicken scratch to make his head hurt. some of the boys near him laugh, and yunho pops his head in to take a look.

"oh yeah that's illegible," yunho confirms. "cute drawing of san, though."

"go away yunho."

"yes ma'am."

you're able to piece together what san said in the press conference, so once you're satisfied you take a moment to type up the changes into your phone. you send the story off to your editor, but then start working through who else you need to talk to today. san is watching all of this, and when your eyebrows furrow in concentration, he leans in.

"i know what you're thinking," he whispers, and you have to shake from your concentration to look him in his sneaky eyes.

"what?"

"i said i know what you're thinking," he repeats with a shrug. when you don't respond, he keeps going. "i bet you're wondering, hm, is san free tonight? well, i am."

"i can't use that for my story," you tell him, and he bumps his shoulder into yours.

"this is when you say if you're free."

"is it?" you ask, gathering your things so you can move on to the next player. "i'm not quite sure about that yet."

"whatever, doll," san smiles. "you know where to find me."

you did know where to find him. you knew he would be at the bar tonight. you knew he wasn't supposed to be there, and you knew you shouldn't go looking for him but you couldn't help yourself. after all, you've got to take yourself out for a drink - you filed your first story of the season today. you deserve to celebrate!

as soon as you walk in you can tell it's a mad house. the bar is packed, and it reminds you of how busy it gets after a game. you wonder if it's just preseason excitement that has so many people here, but you don't wonder long. you're here for a drink, so you squeeze between two guys at the bar and wave the bartender down. everyone here knows you, so you get to cut the line.

"hey y/n," he smiles as he walks up. "want your regular?"

"yeah, but top shelf tonight," you tell him. "finished my first story of the season today."

"is it any good? maybe i'll read this one," the bartender jokes as he gets to work.

"i didn't know you could read," you tease, and you smile when he tosses his head back in a laugh. the sound draws someone's attention, but you're too busy flirting with the bartender to notice.

"and to think i was gonna pay your tab myself," he shakes his head.

"put whatever she gets on mine," someone says at your side, and you physically jump when you recognize who it is.

"san?"

"told you to come find me, doll, why are you surprised i'm here?" he smirks. you can tell he's wearing league issued workout clothes, but to the regulars in the bar he's just some dude in sweats. he's got a ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and if he didn't have such striking features you'd say he was blending in pretty well. "i thought we were getting a drink together."

"are we?" you ask. "because i don't recall you actually asking me." san dips his head, knowing that you caught him in a lie.

"can i get whatever she's drinking?" san asks the bartender as he finally places your drink down, and your mouth hangs open in surprise.

"what's this sparkly shit for?" you ask, flicking at the gold pompom on the toothpick poking out of your cup. there's also swirls of gold in your drink, and the bartender shrugs.

"you said you were celebratin'," he explains. "wanted to make sure the drink rose to the occasion."

"well thank you," you say as you lift the drink to your lips, mostly to hide your blush. san is watching this interaction next to you, doing a horrible job of hiding his disgust.

"here's your drink man," the bartender says, plopping a cup down in front of san. "her's was on the house. i added yours to your tab."

"how generous," san smiles, tipping his cup toward the bartender as he walks away. san turns to you slowly, and says, "he's nice."

"you shouldn't be here."

"why, am i interrupting your date?" san quips.

"no," you roll your eyes. "you shouldn't be seen here. lots of fans, you'll probably get stopped for pictures, autographs, kissing babies..."

"they don't let babies into bars, y/n," san smirks at you. "but thanks for looking out for me."

"isn't against team rules for you to go out during the preseason anyway?" you ask, knowing full well it is.

"i don't like following rules," san shrugs.

"oh so that's why you've played for six different teams in five years?" it's your turn to quip, and san whistles.

"you got me there, ace," he sighs. "so what's this about you celebrating tonight?"

"that's nothing," you try to brush it off. "i sent in that story about you, remember? well, it got approved, so i have a tradition of taking myself out for a drink here when my first story of the season is filed."

"taking yourself out?" san shakes his head. "no, no no no. that won't do. i'm getting you another drink, unless your boyfriend tries to pay for it again, and then we're going out."

"you have to report to practice at 7am," you remind him, and he groans, dropping his head on your shoulder.

"you knowing everything about the team is totally ruining my game."

"aw, you did a fine job of that yourself," you coo, patting his cheek. you cup his chin and pull him back up, and you hide a smile when you notice the blush on his cheeks. "maybe you can owe me? take me out for real?"

"i'd like that," san nods.

"i knew you would," you tease, and san reaches an arm out to pull you into his side. he over calculates and accidentally smacks the guy behind you, who turns around in a drunken haze ready to fight.

"what the-" he starts, anger in his swimming eyes. when they land on san, you both see recognition take over his features in slow motion. "holy shit y'all! it's choi san!"

"come on," you grab san's arm, tugging him in the opposite direction. you think there's an entrance out the back, so hopefully the two of you can squeeze through the masses before too many people catch on. as you drag san behind you, you hear the bar goers talking about the star in their midst. some drunk lady grabs sans arm and won't let go, and he won't shake her off like you tell him to. you get caught, the exit you were hoping for just in the distance. people start crowding around san, trying to wedge between you, but he won't let go of your hand. he finishes signing a bar napkin for a guy who definitely used a fake to get in here, and then you're pulling san along again. the crowd is starting to push, and they're all drunk. and rowdy. and loud.

"aw, look, he's already got himself a bitch!" someone shouts, watching you cling onto san as you push him toward the exit. he stops cold, looking around for the drunken idiot. he reinforces his idiocy by stepping forward, slurring his words as he says, "didn't take you long, son-" *hiccup* "always got sluts lookin' for ya-" *hiccup* "she's a pretty one too-"

before you register what he's doing, san shakes you off of his arm. he steps closer to the man, and you feel yourself calling his name, but in the chaos even you can't hear yourself. san pulls his arm back and clocks the man in the face, splattering blood from his now probably broken nose.

"SAN!" you shout, yanking him back toward you. "let's GO."

adrenaline and shock give you the strength to drag a stunned san out of the bar, but it's so packed there were people in the alley already. they weren't aware of what went on inside, so you're able to tug san around the corner. you rush him toward the parking deck, and thank your lucky stars you moved your car from the employee lot earlier. you shove san into your passenger seat, slamming the door shut so you can rush to the driver's side. as you start the car, you look to the side and see san sinking further into the seat.

"i fucked up," he whispers. you hear a quiver in his voice, but you don't press him. "fuck. i'm gonna get kicked off the team. am i gonna get arrested?"

"you won't get kicked off the team," you tell him softly. "and i'll call the bartender in a minute, explain it to him. just pray that asshole you punched doesn't press charges."

"y/n, i'm so sorry," san says, looking to you with a scared look in his eyes. "i just. i couldn't let him talk to you like that."

"thank you san," you say sincerely. "let me see your hand."

"no, it's fine," he insists, but when you touch it he flinches.

"fuck san, how are you gonna play tomorrow?"

"i'm so losing my job," he shakes his head, sitting up like he's going to leave.

"whoa, where are you going?"

"i have to go apologize," he says, trying to open the door but struggling to do it with his hurt hand. "shit, i have to pay for our drinks, and my car! i need to-"

"san," you say sternly, and he looks to you again with those sad eyes. "i'll fix it. ok? do you trust me?"

"yes," he nods vigorously.

"good," you nod back. "can you buckle your seatbelt or do i have to do that too?"

"where are we going?" san asks after securing his seatbelt. it's a good thing he did, because you whip your car out of its spot so fast his body slams against the strap. "seriously road runner, where are you taking me?"

"we need to fix your hand," you tell him. "i live close by, so i'll fix you up and then in an hour or two i'll bring you back for your car."

"thank you," san says. "you're saving my ass."

"just be really good this season, ok?" you ask him. "it'd be fun to watch my team win for once."

"anything for you, ace."

a few minutes later, you've got a sheepish all-star perched on the edge of your tub as you stand over him and wipe the blood from his hand. you already sent a text to the bartender, so that's cleared up. apparently, san was doing everyone a favor by punching that guy. no one likes him, so san's not in any trouble with the bar. chances are the guy won't press charges either, he tends to start shit around town so the cops wouldn't necessarily be on his side.

the main issue now is the team. there's pictures and videos floating around, and you were right, san wasn't supposed to be out tonight. he's got a missed call from hongjoong already, and you're helping san figure out what to say to the coaches now.

"just own up to it," you tell him. "they'll appreciate the honesty. and tell them you beat that guy up because he was being mean to me, that'll help your case too."

"no," san shakes your head. "i'm not bringing you into this. i don't want to hurt your reputation."

"do it," you shrug. "i was there. i was part of it. if you don't tell them now, i will tomorrow when i do their preseason interviews."

"are you sure?"

"yep," you reply. "it'll help take some of the heat off of you. sources tell me not everyone is sold on you yet, but if they know you were defending my honor it'll get you some respect in the clubhouse."

"do you have blackmail on all these guys?" san jokes as he tries to focus on typing a text with one hand. you're done wiping the blood from his knuckles, and you've found a small cut on his hand that you need to cover. you step away for a second to bend down in front of your sink, searching through the cabinet below. san tries to hide that he's staring, but he does a poor job. he watches still as you stand up and tear open a bandaid, but he scoffs when he sees what's on it. "you are not making me wear a hello kitty bandaid."

"so you want to get infected?" you ask as you put the bandaid on him anyway. you trace your thumb over it softly, making sure it's laying flat, but you realize how tender this moment is. you're holding san's bruised hand in yours, standing so close to him that your legs are between his spread ones. you take a step back, but san uses his free hand to grab you by the waist.

"where you going, doll?" he whispers, looking up at you softly.

"you need an ice pack," you whisper back.

"you're not gonna kiss it to make it better?" he pouts, and you laugh to hide the way your heart skipped a beat.

"that doesn't work you know," you say as you bring his hand to your lips regardless. you place a delicate kiss to his soft skin, holding eye contact with him to watch his reaction.

"you're right, that didn't work," he sighs, and you start to let go. "maybe this will?" he asks, bringing you closer before cupping your face and pulling you down to his lips. he kisses you once, separating from you with a satisfied look on his face. "there. i'm all good now."

"nice," you squeak. "was this all an elaborate ploy to make me kiss you? because you could've just asked."

"really?" san asks gleefully. "will you kiss me?"

"just did."

"again," he pouts, and you lean down to kiss him quickly. he uses both his hands to hold you in place, his lips caressing yours as he lets out a quiet hum. he pulls back just to lean his forehead against yours and says, "yeah, that's got healing power baby."

"you still need ice," you tell him, stepping back before he can grab onto you again. "come on. maybe we can kiss some more in my kitchen?"

san ends up sleeping on your couch. he wouldn't let you leave after fixing up his hand, insisting that you've done enough for him tonight. he'll deal with his car in the morning. you tried giving him the bed, but it barely worked. he wouldn't even let you finish your sentence before he started covering his ears and shaking his head. you gave him an innocent kiss goodnight after setting him up with more pillows and blankets than one guy needs, and you both went to sleep.

except, he wasn't there when you got up. you set your alarm earlier than you planned, but even then you walk into your living room to find all the pillows stacked and blankets neatly folded. the only sign that san was here. well, that and the breakfast he ordered that waits for you on your kitchen table.

san had to be the first one at practice, so he couldn't wait for you to wake up. he also couldn't burden you more than he already has, so he woke before dawn and got to work. his hand feels fine, not great, but he thinks he can get through practice. he's rehearsed what he's going to say to the coaches, the team, the press, and he hopes it's enough.

most of your work for the day will take place in a smaller media room that's been set up for your one-on-one interviews with the coaching staff. that means you have no reason to linger outside the locker room, hoping to see san and check that he's ok. you distract yourself by going over the notes for the first interview, and before you know it, there's a knock at the door. it's the pitching coach, one of your favorite people on the team. he pokes his head in and smiles, so you welcome him as you dive into the same spiel you always do for these interviews. you're a pro, and the guys know what they're doing too, so it should be easy going. but as soon as you sit down to start, the coach stares at you with a look that's up to no good.

"so you were out with san last night," he states.

"i wasn't out with him," you explain. "we happened to be at the same bar."

"i heard he wrecked his hand defending you," the coach continues.

"he wrecked it?" you ask, more concern in your voice than you probably needed. "will he be able to play?"

"he'll play just fine," he nods. "don't you worry. we all heard what happened. shoot, some of the coaches and me were sending the videos back and forth last night. i tell you what, the boy's an idiot, but we've let men get by with worse. like i said, don't you worry."

"good," you breathe in relief. "then should we get started?"

it was a long day, after an incredibly long night, so when it's time for you to leave you're exhausted. you've been all over the place today, trying to keep up with your schedule, tracking people down for interviews, and you misplaced your notebook at least four times. you can't wait to get home, shower, and immediately go to sleep, but as you approach your car you realize you've lost your keys.

"shit," you hiss, dumping most of your bag out onto the hood of your car. you're mining through all your junk, wondering if it's too late to head back inside.

"hey," san says from behind you, and you jump.

"jesus!" you whip around to stare at him. "you scared me!"

"sorry ace," he smiles sheepishly. "thought you heard me coming."

"obviously not!" you screech, your heart still racing. "what's up?"

"looking for these?" he asks, dangling your keychain in front of you.

"oh my god you're a life saver," you sigh in relief, taking the keys from him gratefully. "how did you know these were mine?"

"i recognized them from last night," he shrugs. "and from the mascot keychain. i remember someone saying they had a childhood obsession with phil the bucket?"

"stop paying so much attention to me, could you?" you ask as you start shoveling your things back into your purse.

"here, let me help," san says as he joins you. he holds your purse open as you slide its contents back inside. "i owe you from last night, so consider this my starting point."

"the starting point?" you smile at him, and he nods.

"yep," he says nonchalantly. "first i found your keys, now the bag thing, and next, i don't know, maybe i take you to dinner?"

"hm, tonight?" you ask, and he nods again. "i have plans."

"then cancel them," san replies. you can tell he's joking by the glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but you know he really wants you to say yes.

"where would we go?"

"somewhere nice so i can spoil you," san says simply, closing your purse and walking to the driver's side of your car. "can i pick you up in thirty?"

"thirty minutes isn't enough time to get ready for a date, san," you frown.

"yeah, but any longer and i'll miss you too much," he pouts. you cup his chin and bring that pout to your lips, kissing him softly before you pull away.

"did that buy me another thirty?"

"twenty," he replies. "maybe twenty five if you promise to wear something sexy."

"deal."

as promised, san is outside your building exactly fifty five minutes later. you worried that not having his number and vice versa would make it hard to coordinate, but you're surprised when you check your phone and find that he texted you.

"i'm outside, ace," his text reads. no 'this is san' or anything to identify himself. you know it's him, so you tell him you're coming out.

you worry briefly you won't know which car is his, but as soon as you step outside you let out a soft laugh. of course he's got the most expensive car here, and of course he's leaned against the passenger door waiting for you. he lets out a low whistle as you approach, and you could act coy, but the reporter in you has to ask, "how'd you get my number, san?"

"i'm not giving up my source," he smiles smugly, opening the door for you. "you look incredible."

"it's nice seeing you in something other than baseball clothes for once," you reply. you take his hand and let him help you into the car, watching intently as he crosses the front to reach the driver's side. you're turned to him when he sits, and ask, "seriously. was it hongjoong? one of the coaches? you know they'll be on your ass if they find out you took me on a date."

"i'm not telling," san smirks again. "you gonna buckle your seatbelt or you need me to do it for you?"

"why, you a bad driver or something?" you tease.

"says the woman who gave me whiplash last night."

"i was trying to make a quick getaway before you got stormed by adoring fans again," you remind him.

"always looking out for me," he shakes his head. "i think someone has a crush." you don't respond, instead looking out the window to hide your smile. "you not saying anything isn't helping your case."

"no comment?" you reply, feeling proud at the blush on san's cheeks when you turn back to him. "so where's the superstar taking me?"

"san, the very nice young man you agreed to go out with, is taking you to one of his favorite restaurants," he replies.

"you've lived here like a week, how do you already have a favorite restaurant?"

"there was a place in one of the cities i used to play in, i went there every week," he explains as he drives. you catch yourself staring, but he doesn't seem to mind, so you continue. "the nicest staff. best food. always packed. then one day, it's gone. the owner and his wife moved so they could be closer to their daughter while she was at school, and they ended up here. he gave me a call as soon as my trade was final." you guess a couple places it could be, but they're all wrong. "so ms. know it all doesn't actually know it all?"

"don't call me that," you groan. "there's plenty i don't know."

"enlighten me, ace."

"i can't do math to save my life," you admit, and that gets a laugh out of san. "i don't know how to fold a fitted sheet. and don't tell anyone, but that new stat all the baseball pundits are talking about? it makes no sense to me."

"oh, that's easy," san says, and he falls into a comfortable conversation about baseball. you always wanted this from the guys you date, but despite your work, most guys assume that you don't know anything about sports because you're a woman. you're grateful that you don't feel that way around san, and you start to relax a little bit. you're not on a date with superstar outfielder choi san, you remind yourself. just san. just a, what did he say, a very nice young man?

that niceness continues when he parks his car, rushing to your door to get it for you. he takes your hand to help you out and doesn't let go as you walk in, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't heard of this place before. it's fabulous, beautiful inside and out, and as soon as you walk in you're hearing san's name called. but this time it's not a fanatic, just a kind looking man and his wife.

"sannie!" she exclaims, pulling him into a soft hug. "oh, it's so nice to see you again. we were so happy when we heard you were coming here. i think it'll be good for you."

"me too," san agrees. he turns to the man then, the owner, and they exchange a manly handshake and similar pleasantries before he turns to you. "this is y/n, by the way. star reporter, loved by all-"

"and way out of your league," the owner winks at you. you feel yourself blush as san agrees, and then he's escorting you to your table. as you walk through the restaurant you notice it's surprisingly empty. didn't san say their last place was always full?

the owner helps you with your seat as his wife explains the specials, but you don't see a menu anywhere. you look at san quizzically and he gives you a look that says he'll explain shortly. after some more kindness, the owner and his wife are gone, and you get a chance to really take this place in.

"if you're wondering where the menu is," san starts, "they won't give us one. they never let me order when i come here, they just decide for me. and it's the best food i've ever had, each time."

"can't wait," you smile at him. "is this place as popular as their last one, you think?"

"i know it is," san nods. "that's why i booked it just for us."

"what?"

"i told them i was bringing a date and they offered to stay open late for us," he shrugs. "i hope that's not weird?"

"no," you reply. "i'm sure they're used to it by now."

"used to what?"

"you bringing dates here," you answer. "i can't be the only lucky lady you've done this with."

"well consider yourself lucky, ace," he says. "you're different."

"like can't be seen in public with me different?" you tease. "san, i'm flattered."

"no ace," he laughs. "i wanted this to be special, but if you want a crowd i can call the team-"

"no," you cut him off, grabbing his hand that's laid out on the table. "i like this. it's nice."

"told you i was gonna spoil you, doll," san smiles. "get used to it."

"should i?" you challenge, but san just continues smiling as a waiter brings by your drinks. you feel your walls falling more and more as the night goes on, as you and san eat some of the best food you've ever had. he's fun to be around, you think. maybe you'll give him more of a chance than you were expecting.

"so. i have a question," san says after the plates from your meal are cleared. you're waiting for dessert, but you're not sure you can eat much more.

"shoot," you tell him. "i ask you plenty, so ask away."

"in the locker room, yesterday i think? you said jongho was your favorite," he finishes with a pout.

"that's not a question," you laugh. "you'd be a shitty reporter."

"compared to you, everyone is," san replies. "but i meant, why is he your favorite? were you serious or just joking?"

"if i had to pick a favorite," you start, "i think it would be jongho. i've always liked catchers, so that works in his favor. he's fun to watch, and a lot of fun to work with."

"you have a thing for catchers?" san teases. "why?"

"not a thing," you say, wishing you could kick him underneath the table. "but maybe? i don't know. catchers do have really nice thighs."

"and outfielders?" san tries.

"never stood out to me," you reply. "it's either catchers or third basemen." you start to explain how your favorite player of all time, the one who got you into baseball, played third base, and you don't worry about sounding too much like a fangirl. you admit to the jerseys, the baseball card collection, all of it, and when you finish you look up to find san watching you with an amused look on his face. "what? too much?"

"no," he shakes his head. "i'm just thinking how good you'd look in one of my jerseys."

"try playing third," you tease. "maybe i'll buy one."

dessert comes then, and your focus turns to the amazing food again. maybe it was just you, but you felt a sort of...tension when you were talking just now. you weren't planning on sleeping with san, really ever, but that look in his eyes when he thought about you in his jersey, maybe the date won't end here.

after another visit from the owner and his wife, and plenty of take out to last you a few days, you're walking back to san's car. there's a chill in the air, so you gravitate to him for warmth. his arm circles around your waist, pulling you to his side, and he squeezes your hip. you feel goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you wonder again where the night might be going.

ever the gentleman, san helps you back into your seat and places your food carefully in the back. you're looking at him now in a new light, imagining how his hands would feel on your hips without a layer of clothes separating your skin from his. you're so caught up in your thoughts that you don't notice san has taken his seat, or that he said something to you. you ask him to repeat it, and he has a happy look on his face as he says, "thanks for going out with me, doll."

"thanks for asking," you reply. "i had a great time."

"good," he nods with finality, starting the car without another word. he doesn't even look at you again until he gets close to your building, and all those thoughts of what would happen next have left your mind. whatever vibe you caught from him in the restaurant was gone, he obviously wasn't planning on coming up to your apartment after this. your suspicions were confirmed when he pulls up to your door, turning to you with that same sappy look. "i had a great time tonight, y/n. thank you."

"yeah, sure," you mewl, gathering your things. "um, the food-"

"take all of it," san insists, twisting back to grab the bags. "this isn't exactly on my in-season diet, so i'm not sure how much i could sneak before the dietician clocks me for it."

"right, thanks," you nod, laden down with bags as you struggle to open your door. "well, thanks."

"you said that already ace."

"right," you repeat. "um, so, see you at work i guess?"

"looking forward to it," he smiles softly. "text me when you get in?"

"right," you say again, stepping out of his car without looking back.

the season starts shortly after your date with san, so you're too busy with work to think about it.

except that's a lie, you can't stop thinking about it. how could san be so flirty, act so into you, and then end the night without so much as a kiss goodbye? you don't want it to, but it's bothering you.

you don't have a reason to see him, at work or otherwise, until the first day of the season. you're set up in the dock next to the home dugout so you can get updates or a quick interview for the broadcast. you see san for the first time in days then, sitting there with your notebook and a headset, as he takes the field for warmups. it might be your mind playing tricks on you, but you swear san looks for you as he waits for seonghwa. as soon as his eyes find yours he turns around, jogging to the outfield after. you shake it off and get to work, checking your notes to make sure you've got the info right for the game. san will be the leadoff hitter, and you feel a pit of excitement in your stomach at the thought of watching him play. just from watching him in practice you know he's good, but he's electric when there's a real win on the line. still, you don't let your thoughts linger on him too long. you've got a job to do.

the game runs like clockwork, and the team easily knocks down three outs to switch sides. you don't look up when they walk to the dugout, afraid of catching san's eyes again. you don't look up until you hear the announcer call san's name, watching his back as he walks to the plate. through your headset, you can hear the commentators upstairs in the press box listing off his accomplishments at past teams, painting him in this otherworldly light. he's a superstar for a reason, his stats show that, and the way they're talking about him upstairs shows that everyone is captivated by him.

the pitcher, not intimidated by the silver slugger he's facing, sets up his first pitch. it's a curveball, somewhere in the 80 mph range, and it looks like it's gonna be a ball. but san is confident, his stance strong, his shoulders poised just so, and you watch in amazement as he rears back and completely shreds it. the ball is gone before anyone knows what's happening, and your eyes stay locked on san as he rounds the bases. when he approaches first, he looks directly at you, pointing in your direction as he turns at the bag. your heart is racing, you notice, and you shake off your surprise so you can describe the hit in your already cramped notes.

the rest of the game is exciting, but nothing matches san's leadoff homer. you could tell that lit the team up, an enthusiasm in every at bat, every play. your team wins, by a lot, and you go through the motions of finding players and coaches to interview for the post-game show as fans file out and the grounds crew comes in. the one person you're hoping to snag is nowhere to be seen, though.

by the time you're done with your work on the field, the post-game conference is already over. you're not sure if san gave a quote there and that's why you missed him on the field, but you don't care. the team won't mind, so you make your way to the locker room to find the man who's been running laps through your head all day.

san knows as soon as you enter the locker room that you're looking for him. he's showered and dressed in his outside clothes, his jersey neatly folded on the bench beside him as you approach.

"hey ace," he greets you. "some game huh?"

"it was good," you nod. "nice hit."

"glad you liked it," he replies cockily. "did it for you."

"can i quote you on that?" you ask, and san chuckles.

"come on doll, why the cold shoulder? i did what you asked, i helped your team win. figured that would get me on your good side."

"i just need a quote about that hit," you stand your ground. "i'm risking my innocence the longer i stay here, so if you could just say something arrogant on the record, i'll be on my way."

san can tell something is up, so he returns your formality with some of his own. you're in and out in less than five minutes, heading to the press room to collect your thoughts before you shoot your editor a text about your incoming story. as you stand there typing, you hear someone come up behind you so you start walking toward the exit.

"y/n, wait," san calls, and you want to walk faster. you want to leave and not look back, but he adds a quiet, "please." and you take a deep breath before you turn.

"what's up?" you ask. "i've got a deadline."

"you left this," san says simply, offering you the folded jersey from his locker. "i...whatever. it was my jersey from this game. i want you to have it."

"what?" you're shocked, aware of how much it costs for a player to give away a game worn jersey. it may not be much to san in the long run, but still. it softens your heart and you take it wordlessly, searching for something to say in thanks.

"well," san sighs. "see you tomorrow."

"san, wait!" you call before he can get too far. he looks back at you hopefully, and you jog to catch up with him. "why..." as you trail off, you look up to him and find an unreadable look on his face. "sorry for being a dick earlier, i just-"

"no worries," he shakes his head. "i get it, the season changes things, so-"

"did you take me out the other night to pay me back for helping you at the bar?" you ask what you've been wondering for a few days now. "because, i don't know. i thought we...or i, um, i felt...something. and when you dropped me off, it was like you changed."

"changed how?"

"before that, i thought you were into me," you try to say nonchalantly. "but after..."

"you think i'm not into you now?" he asks sadly, and you nod. "check your facts, ace. i think it's the opposite."

"well i wasn't sure-"

"you want me to prove it?" san asks, taking a step closer to you. "or you got a story you need to get back to?"

"i have time," you whisper, looking in his eyes. they're darker, more serious, a little hooded. that tension you felt the other night is back, and it takes your breath away briefly.

"come with me," san's tugging your hand, dragging you along behind him as he leads you outside. a quick scan of the parking lot tells him you're alone, so he rushes you to his car. again, he helps you in, rushing to toss his things in the back. you're sitting there, his jersey gripped in one hand and your notebook in the other. when he opens his door, you mumble something about your stuff, but he cuts you off. "you can get it tomorrow, ace. i'm taking you home now."

"but my keys-"

"i'm taking you to my place," he cuts you off again, looking to you as he starts the car. "there a problem?

"no," you reply meekly, and san is satisfied. he drives like a madman to his place, not far from the stadium. he parks in the deck below, bringing you with him to an elevator close by. he punches the button to his floor before he pounces, cupping your face to crash his lips into yours.

"can't believe you thought i didn't want you," he grumbles, dragging his hands to your neck, down your arms, to grip your waist. "ridiculous." he kisses you again, pulling you by the waist out of the elevator into his hallway. he only detaches from you to find his keys, hands steady as he undoes the lock. he pulls you inside and doesn't give you a chance to look around, capturing your lips in a kiss again. you finally drop your stupid notebook, embarrassed that you've been holding onto it this whole time. you start to let go of his jersey too, but he stops you. "what are you doing, ace? told you i've been thinking about you wearing my jersey."

"what-"

"put it on, baby," he coaxes you, his hands guiding yours. "let's get you out of this librarian dress and into something a little sexier."

"san, slow down," you say breathlessly, following him into his apartment. he collapses on the couch, watching you with that same fire in his eyes from earlier. "what now?"

"change," he replies. "put the jersey on."

"not fair," you pout. "i'm gonna be naked and i don't even get to see you shirtless?"

san tears his shirt off in record time, sitting back with a challenging look on his face.

"your turn, doll."

with shaky hands, you undo the zipper to your dress, letting it fall as san lets out a hiss of air. you slide your arms into the jersey, amazed that it still smells like his cologne after a game in the sun. you kind of flop your arms out after that, like a 'what now?' and san pats his thigh.

"sit," he commands.

"what?"

"you ask a lot of questions."

"it's my job," you quip back, and san lets his head fall back in a laugh.

"you said you had a thing for thighs, baby. figured you'd be jumping at the chance to ride mine."

spurred on by adrenaline and the growing pit of excitement in your stomach, you do as he says, straddling his thigh as you drape your arms over his broad shoulders.

"what now?" you whisper into his ear, nipping just beneath it to drive him insane. his hands return to your waist, and whispering into your ear, he says, "ride me, doll."

you grind against his thigh, sucking in a breath at the friction. you take it at your own pace, going slow so you don't overwhelm your senses. san's warm skin under your hands, his scent surrounding you, it's intoxicating. you let your hips move on their own accord, picking up speed as the pressure in your core builds. you let out a breathy moan when he bounces his leg, and his grip on your waist tightens.

"how's it feel, baby?" he asks, watching you intently.

"good, san, feels good."

"then go faster," he smirks. "might feel even better." you do, gasping as a hand leaves your waist to trace over your bra. his hand dips beneath the fabric, pulling a breast free before moving to the next cup to do the same. both of his hands find your chest, tweaking your nipples as he watches you unravel above him. "how's it feel now?"

"i'm close," you whine, hips jerking as your core gets too sensitive. you try to stand, to move things along, but san grabs onto your ass and guides you against his thigh.

"if you're close then why are you running away?" he chuckles. "show me how good it feels, ace."

"fuck," you whisper, grinding against him harder. "i'm almost there, but i-i can't, san, need more. need your fingers."

"you do?" he pouts. "i don't think you've earned it."

"i have," you whine, squeezing his thigh between yours. "fuck. if you don't do it i will."

"show me," he challenges, and you stand before he can stop you. you take your panties off, tossing them somewhere before sitting back down on his thigh. you cry out at the new contact, your arousal ruining his pants. you look down and see just how much you're dripping onto his leg, moaning as san guides you faster. you pop two fingers into your mouth and then reach down to rub your clit, crying out as you come.

"fuck, san," you moan, hips sputtering over him as you chase your high. "jesus." you let your head fall to his shoulder, your hand stilling at your core as you catch your breath.

"so dirty, baby," he whispers, brushing your hair away from your neck to trail kisses across your skin. his jersey has fallen from your shoulder, so he takes his time leaving a mark on the exposed skin as you come down. "you look real good in my jersey, making yourself feel good like that."

"what now?" you ask again, nipping at his ear.

"you ready so soon?" he asks. "so eager."

"i'm afraid you're gonna come in your pants," you whisper in his ear. "don't wanna ruin the fun before it even starts."

you shriek then, feeling san lift you like it's nothing. he kicks his bedroom door open before dropping you on the bed, taking a minute to admire you splayed out on his sheets as he undoes his pants. you're still breathless, watching him undress, and you feel your breath catch when he pulls his cock free.

"what, don't think you can handle it?" san asks, tearing a condom packet open with his teeth. "gotta say, i'd be disappointed."

"try me."

san crawls over you next, trapping your hands in his as he drags them above your head. he holds them in place as he guides his cock to your core, slapping it against your clit teasingly. you moan, hips bucking to chase the feeling. he keeps teasing you though, coating his cock in your arousal.

"so wet for me, baby," he groans. "are you like this when i play?"

"no," you grit your teeth. "san, please-"

"please what, baby?" he asks, stopping completely. his tip is pressed to your entrance, but he's not moving, and you squirm beneath him. "use your words, pretty girl. you get this wet when you see me?"

"when i think about fucking you, yeah," you respond honestly.

"and how often is that? just ballpark."

"sometimes."

"every day?" he asks, pressing his tip past your walls. he won't give you more than that, so you whimper, and he smirks. "tell me."

"since we kissed," you admit, wishing you could hide your blushing cheeks.

"aw, baby's been desperate that long?" he tsks. "i'm sorry, doll. didn't know you wanted me that bad."

"just fuck me, san."

"ask me."

"huh?"

"ask me how often i think about fucking you," he replies with a shit eating grin.

"how often?"

he thrusts into you, pulling a moan from deep within your chest. he leans down and kisses you, biting your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. then he whispers, thrusting with each word, "every single day."

he keeps thrusting into you, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. you moan into his mouth, whining his name, and you twist away long enough to ask, "let go of my hands. wanna touch you."

he lets you go, and your hands grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. he groans, egging you on, and you drag your nails down his back as you say, "your shoulders."

"what?"

"your shoulders. they drive me insane," you admit. "catchers have nice thighs, sure, but, fuck, you're built like a god."

"a god?" he smiles, and you can tell you're gonna regret saying that. "what else drives you insane?"

"hm, everything about you?" you reply. "you're infuriating."

"and you're close already," he smirks. "i can feel you clenching around me, baby. this feels good too?"

"so good," you nod. "can i come?"

"wait," he hisses, pulling out as you whine. "patience, baby. wanna try something else."

you let san move you how he wants, sitting up further on his bed as he props your legs open. he slides his hands beneath your legs, almost folding you in half as he cups your head. he moves you so you can see your dripping pussy, shining in the low light of his room.

"help me out, ace," he says, and with shaky hands you guide him back to your entrance. he thrusts, both of you watching as he enters you, and you moan in sync as he thrusts all the way in. he stills for a moment, loving the way you clench around him, and he speeds up, fucking you so fast you can't catch your breath. "shit. look at you, taking me so well."

"can i come now?" you whine, but he shakes his head again. "san!"

"wait for me, baby," he insists, thrusting faster. you can barely take it, but then his hips jerk, and you know he's close. "now, come on my cock, fuck-"

"san, oh my god," you cry out, bucking forward until your forehead is pressed against his, watching as you come around him. you feel him come with you, and you stay trapped in his hold as he slows down. he kisses you softly before he lets go, his hands carding through your hair as he helps you lay down.

"be right back," he whispers, kissing your forehead before he disappears. he comes back with water and a wet washcloth, handing you the cool glass as he cleans you up. you hand it back to him when he's done so he can take a sip, and then he leaves again to toss the condom. he collapses back into bed when he returns, immediately pulling you into his chest as he nuzzles his head into your neck. "can't believe you'd think i didn't want you, doll."

"this might be the first time anyone's proved me wrong," you tease, yelping when you feel him bite your skin. "mean!" he moves to lay his chin on your chest, looking up at you with warmth in his eyes. you brush some of his sweaty hair from his forehead as he speaks.

"do you wanna stay the night?" he asks. "please say yes. but if you don't want to, give me a minute and i can drive you home. but i really want you to stay."

"i'll stay," you nod, cupping his cheek as you stare at him. "you're really handsome, you know?"

"am i?" he smiles. "tell me more."

"that's all you get," you say as you flick his nose, and he scoots up the bed to lay his head next to yours. you're both quiet for a minute, thoughts flooding your head. you don't realize you're frowning until san whines.

"what's that face for?" he pouts, propping himself up on his arm as he stares down at you. "you want to go home."

"no, i'm just thinking," you pout back.

"about?"

"what will the team say if they see our walk of shame?"

"about time," he replies, kissing you before he lays back down. "i talk about you all the time, so i'm sure they'll be thrilled to know i finally got some."

"you're sick," you giggle, pinching him. "but maybe you should go in first. just to be safe."

"whatever you want ace," he hums, looking at you again. "you gonna sleep in my jersey, or can i give you another shirt to wear?"

despite your exhaustion from your night with san, you still had a story to write. it wasn't yet midnight, so after san gave you a shirt to sleep in you stayed up, furiously typing on your phone to get the story done in time. you thought san had fallen asleep beside you, his quiet breathing providing a sort of metronome to keep you focused. but as you got to a certain point in your story, you realized you need your notebook. you can't remember where it might be, so you try to quietly slip out of bed and go looking.

"come back to bed," san grumbles, making you jump.

"i thought you were asleep," you whisper, looking at him from the doorway. the sheets have pooled around his waist, and his chest is flushed. you wish you could just lay down with him, rest your head on his warm chest, and fall into the deepest sleep. but you've never filed a story late, and you're not interested in doing so tonight.

"i'm not going to sleep till you do," he answers, rubbing his eyes. he pulls the sheets away and slides out of bed himself, shuffling toward the door after you.

"what are you doing?" you ask, taking a step back.

"if you leave me alone in here i might die," he says seriously. "you looking for your notebook? i put it on my coffee table," he explains, placing his hand at the small of your back while he guides you through his apartment. you barely have a second to grab it from the table before san is pulling you down onto the couch with him, locking you in his hold on his lap.

"um, san?" you ask. "i need my arms." he groans as he loosens his grip, and you try to scoot over to take up the ample space left on the couch.

"uh uh," he shakes his head, looking at you with sleepy eyes. "you're staying right here until you finish."

"but you'll distract me," you pout, which san tries to kiss away.

"distract you, or motivate you to hurry up so we can go to sleep?"

"fine," you sigh, getting comfortable in his lap as you prop your notebook open on his chest. "keep that there for me."

"yes ma'am," he mumbles, closing his eyes as you work. you flip through a few pages and find what you were looking for, trying to concentrate on transcribing the quote, but it's hard. you're not comfortable, so you keep shifting. san's hands tighten around you, but you ignore it. just a few more minutes and you'll be done, but damn, is your leg cramping? you try to move again, but end up yelping when you feel san pinch your thighs. "baby," he whines. "stop moving. i'm getting hard."

"jesus, really?" you ask, shifting again to see for yourself. "oh hello there."

"stop," san chuckles, looking at you with hooded eyes. "are you almost done?"

"i've got a few more sentences, then i need to proofread it," you reply. "so kinda."

"alright," he nods. "keep working, ace." so you do, reading back a few lines to catch your train of thought. you frown though, feeling san's hands trail up your thighs to play with the material of your panties.

"san, stop," you tell him. "you're being a distraction."

"ah, no i'm not," he says, cupping you in his hold as he sits forward. he fidgets with something for a minute before resting back against the cushions, and you gasp when you feel his cock against you. "i'm motivating you, remember?"

"san, what are you doing-"

"just keep working baby," he coos, pulling your panties to the side before sliding his cock through your folds. "want you to sit on it until you finish."

"funny," you twist his nipple, and he hisses.

"ah, no pun intended," he smiles, "but happy coincidence. come on, i'm bored, and if i don't do this i'll fall asleep."

"then sleep! i won't be able to focus with you...in me."

"try," san kisses you, sitting back with a smirk. "i believe in you baby. now keep working."

you look at the time and groan, because you don't have time to argue with him. you watch as he lifts your hips and sinks into you, letting out a shaky breath once your hips are slotted against his. he keeps his eyes on you, taking in every wince, every jolt, every bite of your lip to stop from whimpering. you feel so full, and san is so warm, and you can't focus but you're almost done-

"read the story to me," san says next, breaking through your thoughts once again.

"hold on," you say, completing the final sentence before you scroll back to the top. "on the record i think you're insane."

"that's a weird way to start an article about baseball," san smirks, so you roll your hips to get him to shut up. you start reading your story, and he listens like he's hooked on every word. at the first mention of his name, he lifts you up slightly before bringing your hips back down and you stutter on your words. "come on ace, keep reading."

"fuck you," you breathe out.

"you are," he smirks again, and you grit your teeth as you continue. you speed through the story, but san keeps slowly fucking you as you go. you find a typo and he stills while you fix it, but as you get to the end he picks up speed. when you finally read the last word, you place a hand on his chest and he stops again.

"let me send this to my editor, please, and then you can keep defiling me," you beg.

"i learn so many new words being around you," san jokes, but you're not listening. you manage to send the story at 11:59 exactly, and you toss your phone away before grabbing onto san's shoulders.

"you need a hobby or something," you get out between moans as he starts fucking you again. "fuck. feel so full, san."

"yeah?" he sighs. "you feel incredible. so tight, so warm for me."

"shit, you're not wearing a condom," you realize. "get out."

"hold on," he whines. "i'll pull out. just give me a minute. are you close?"

"very confident in your skills," you point out. "we haven't been fucking that long."

"but i can feel you dripping around me," he says, pinching your hips. "feel you squeezing me. i know you're loving this baby."

"i'm almost there," you fess up, rolling your hips against him to get some more friction. he brings a hand around to your core, his thumb tracing over your clit so teasingly it's driving you insane. you collapse in his hold, your head resting against his shoulder as you let out breathy moans. he slows down, just to tease you more, and you bite his shoulder.

"ow!"

"keep going," you groan against his skin. "gonna come, fuck-" and you feel your high crash into you, hips jerking against san's as you come. you're quick to hop off of him, which he protests, but you sit before him on your knees as you stroke his cock. he's got to be close, so you bring his tip to your lips to suck him into your mouth. he lets go almost immediately, gasping above you as he comes into your mouth. as soon as he's done, he pulls you off of him with a huff.

"show me, doll," he rasps, and you stick your tongue out to show him his release. you swallow most of it, some drips sneaking past your lips so you sit up and wipe them off on the edge of his boxers, still caught around his knees. "hey!"

"you can deal," you tell him, standing with his help. your legs are shaky, and the exhaustion is really hitting you now. "come on, let's go to bed before you keep us up all night."

for the next week or so, you and san fall into a habit of going home with each other after each game. the first two series of the season are at home, so it makes things easy for you. you don't have to talk about what you are to san or vice versa, it's just understood that any free time you have will be spent with each other.

you're getting nervous, though, because the first away series is this weekend. you're strictly a local reporter, so you don't travel with the team. you'll report solely based on what the broadcast team on site is saying, or by bugging the team with phone calls. a little piece of you is nervous that san will fall back into his superstar ways, because he did have a reputation before coming here for having...friends...in every city. you try to push that feeling away for now, but it keeps nagging you at the worst times.

like now, san has cornered you in the clubhouse, kissing you in between questions for your next story and all you can think about is the trip this weekend. you're trying to focus on the story, really. the team is on an unbeaten streak, and some of the guys have cited san as the reason for that. word around the team is that his energy and passion for the game has made them better. you're trying to get something heartfelt out of him, but he's distracted.

"baby, i'm doing some of my best work here," he mumbles against your lips. "can't the questions wait?"

"i'm on a deadline san, you know that," you say as you put your hand on his chest and push back. "two more questions, and then i'm all yours."

"fine," he sighs, taking a step back. his hands stay on your waist as you talk, his thumbs rubbing your skin beneath your shirt. you're able to get what you need, so you stop the recording on your phone and put it away.

"you know, if anyone ever hears those, i'd be fired," you tell him as you drape your arms over his shoulders.

"good thing i'm loaded," san smirks. "i can buy their silence and you can keep your job."

"you know i used to be a clean reporter?" you pinch his neck. "you're really blurring my ethical lines here."

"i won't tell if you don't," he whispers, kissing you again. you stay like that, lips locked together, until a buzzing in san's pocket interrupts you. "ah, i should get that."

"who's calling? you don't have friends," you tease him, your uneasy mind wondering if it's one of his usuals from out of state.

"it's the equipment team," he explains, "they've never packed my stuff for an away trip before so they want to confirm before they ship out."

san answers the call, but keeps a protective arm hooked around you so you can't leave. you distract yourself with a stray thread on his shirt as he talks, and when he hangs up he places his hand over yours.

"whatcha thinking about, ace?"

"when do you leave for the series this weekend?" you ask nonchalantly, avoiding his gaze.

"day after tomorrow," he replies. "i figured we'd get an off day here, but they want us to come in for an extra practice to stay sharp."

"gotta keep that win streak going on the road," you tell him. "like you promised."

"exactly," he smiles. "so when will you leave?"

"huh?"

"for the series," san asks in an equally confused tone. "you're coming with us, right?"

"i don't travel with the team," you shake your head. "so i'll be here, wasting away."

"aw, you're gonna miss me," san coos, pulling you into his side as he walks you down the hall. "guess i gotta fit in as much y/n time as i can before i go."

"seems like it," you give him a tightlipped smile before pulling away. "i gotta go back out to the field, i'm doing a report in a few minutes. so i'll text you when i'm done?"

"sure," he nods, kissing your forehead before you go.

you went back to your apartment at the end of the day, tired and mind racing. you're not even dating san, why are you so concerned about what he might get up to on this road trip? you try to busy yourself until san comes by with dinner, so you're in the middle of washing dishes when there's a knock at your door. you let san in, stepping to the side in your small entryway to let him through. it leaves him standing incredibly close to you as you close the door, but once the space is cleared he stays where he is.

"you can come in, weirdo," you laugh. "do you need me to move?"

"no hug? no kiss?" he complains, pouting his lips as if waiting for a smooch.

"my hands are wet," you say as you hold them up, "so no hug, but-" you stand on your toes and aim a kiss perfectly on top of lips, spinning around quickly after to go back to the kitchen. "put everything on the coffee table, i'll get plates."

you walk into your living room to find a feast laid out for you. how'd you miss san carrying in so much food? you place plates down for you both, sitting next to san so your thighs touch. he piles food on your plate as you tell him about the rest of your day, but when he keeps going you make him stop.

"do you think i never eat?" you laugh. "why the mountain of food?"

"i'll be out of town for a while," he shrugs. "gotta make sure you're taken care of before i go."

"right," you nod. "thank you, but this is plenty."

"want me to feed it to you?" he asks with a sappy look on his face, but you know he's serious.

"i'll kick you out if you even try."

"then what about you feeding me?"

"are you excited for the first road trip of the year?" you change the subject.

"i am," he says slowly. "not much to see there, though, so it'll be a boring trip. especially if you're not coming..."

"can't," you remind him. "the big man won't allow it."

"but let's say, i don't know, a player on the team had an extra ticket to the game...then what?"

"huh?" you look at him confused. "what are you saying?"

"if i told you i got you a ticket to the game, would you come?" he asks sincerely. he grabs your hand and squeezes, saying, "i need my good luck charm there."

"san, i don't know," you shake your head. "how would i get there? where would i stay?"

"you could travel with the other wives and girlfriends," he answers. "apparently it's a whole big trip, they do this every year for the first away series."

"but i'm not a wife or a girlfriend," you tell him. "i'm a reporter."

"then why don't you leave the notebook at home and just come to the game as my girlfriend?"

"your girlfriend?" you smile. "i think i can do that."

#san #choi san #ateez #choi san fic #choi san smut #choi san fluff #choi san imagine #choi san one shot #san fic #san x reader #ateez x reader #san smut #san imagine #san one shot #ateez smut #san fluff #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez one shot

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cosmic-waves7 · 9 months

Note

could u write karma with a s/o that doesn’t get into trouble? Kinda like an opposite like they’re still outgoing but the type to never skip and only wanting straight A’s and are kinda sensitive in contrast to him? (🫶🫶ur writing is so cute idk if you still write for karmaa aaa!!😭)

Note: I will NEVER stop writing for karma 😤😤😤

Honestly?

He doesn't even really notice you at first.

Another student in class-E, just like any other.

Obviously that is until you managed to score higher than him in maths during exam season.

It started off as a miniature rivalry, very one-sided might I add.

He'd come to you smirking by the end of the next exam with a mark higher than yours only to be surprised when you smile widley and congratulate him.

Every. Single. Time.

Huh?

You're not supposed to do that, your eyes are supposed to burn with determination and annoyance. You're supposed to snatch that paper from his hands and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

Clearly not.

Its not even a fake smile, there isn't even a hint of malice in your eyes.

It's almost as if you're happy for him.

You don't even know him, not properly at least.

This really changes perspectives for the assassin so now he's shifted into doing everything in his power for your recognition.

Which doesn't seem to be very hard to gain as he notices that you're a bit popular in class.

Not entirely popular, but if students come up to you they'll only get a sweet greeting every time as if they're a long-time friend of yours.

You're basically Koro-sensei's golden child. Wide sparkling eyes every time you put your hand up in class to you answer his questions, he could weep at how adorable you are.

Everyone comes up to you for anything really.

Help with homework, a quick check in, or just to talk. You're always so easy to talk to, so gentle all the time.

Even Itona will quietly chat with you in a corner.

You're just so...approachable.

In Karma's eyes that's unfair. He needs to catch your attention and now.

Maybe to prove something to himself or just boredom, he doesn't need a reason.

So now he's the one asking for homework help. He can answer the questions in his sleep, you know it too.

He's still gonna play dumb, tap you on the shoulder and muster up his best clueless look.

Even in class, Karma has "coincidentally" managed to switch seats to be your desk partner.

You didn't hear it from me but maybe an octopus-like teacher has something to do with that.

Anyway.

Now that you're basically knee to knee with him in class, this allows karma to charm his way into your every day life.

Constantly stealing away your time with anything he can possibly think of.

He'll do this thing where he just wraps his arms around your shoulders and sultry whine into your ear.

"_____, help me please?"

He'll even throw in a pout.

Nagisa has to pry him off of you.

You don't even ask why he's suddenly around you nearly 24/7, you're just glad to be of help really and though you think he's a bit strange he's quite sweet.

A well known charismatic (possible) sadist, but sweet.

Class trip? He's sitting next to you on the bus.

Getting ice-cream? He already knows your favourite flavour.

Study session? You'll need to work together, being the two top students in class it would only be sensible to partner up for academics. This lead to him coming over a lot and vice versa, need to keep those grades up you know.

Spending the weekend at home? Don't be silly, you're flying to the country of your choice on a whim with a certain red-haired 'friend' of yours.

Having rich absent parents really does come in handy sometimes.

But this whole game is tiring him out.

You've gotten close, yes. He's flustered you plenty, yes. But you haven't confessed to him at all!

It's infuriating.

He wants you to like him at least, because he's teetering on the edge of obsession for you.

Because 'friends' don't hold hands all the time, they don't hug longingly or stay up late thinking of the other.

It'll all click in to place when he just goes red in the face, kisses your cheek once and just spews his feeling out like a flood.

"I like you."

"...Oh."

(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ )

Coughing, he'll look away and pretend like nothing happened while trying desperately to renew his previous charm.

Just say you like him back, he's already maxed out on embarrassment.

#headcannons #anime #fiction #fluff #assclass x reader #assassination classroom x reader #assassination classroom #karma assassination classroom #karma x reader #karma akabane x reader #hes so babygirl #thank u for ur ask!#this was sitting in my drafts for so long im so sorry 😭

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wwinterwitch · 11 months

Text

right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | read on ao3

You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

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fellthemarvelous · 4 months

Text

Holy forking shirtballs

I'm choosing violence today. I started this on Twitter, but I'm going to finish my thoughts here like I always do.

But what really blows my mind the most is the way that people look at Aziraphale's "choice" at the end, as if he had one to fucking begin with.

I'm sorry, but Aziraphale knows how messed up Heaven is. He told The Metatron, more than once, that he did not want to go back to Heaven! We can debate what each of us means by "choice" all night because my "choice" and your "choice" might be two different concepts. He could have been strong armed by The Metatron or he could have looked at where things were headed and realized he had no choice but to intervene himself.

You need to ask yourself what Aziraphale has a moral imperative to do.

What do we owe to each other?

Seriously, if you have not watched The Good Place, I recommend you go and watch it, because it absolutely shaped how I've viewed Good Omens 2 since its release.

My levels of frustration with the bad faith mischaracterizations of Aziraphale are off the charts. If you are blaming him for everything, implying that he should have to grovel and that Crowley has a right to hurt him back, you have missed the point of Good Omens entirely.

I defend Aziraphale, but I don't think one of them is more right or wrong than the other. They're equals. They're a group of the two of them, acting and reacting to each other throughout history. They're Alpha Centauri.

I cannot even begin to explain how fucking devastated I felt when Crowley said these words, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. What he said took a lot of courage because he's finally admitting something they've both been too scared to publicly define for 6,000 years. Crowley has had to spend so long with a rough outer shell because he fell and had to hide all of his softness.

The look on his face was one of pure joy when he created that nebula, but I think the fact that he got to share that moment with Aziraphale is what has always stuck with him.

So yeah, seeing Crowley with a broken heart at the end of "Every Day" was sad for me as well.

My brain still lives here!!

But Neil has said that Good Omens 3 is not quiet, gentle, or romantic. I imagine it's going to be more like the the first season in which they are not central to the plot. GO2 will help us make sense of how they ended up where they are when we see the bigger picture with all the other major players involved with GO3.

Aziraphale was still a soldier and accidentally got himself discorporated in his own magic circle in season one. He had a platoon waiting on him to start Armageddon, and he deserted them to go save the world with Crowley instead. Aziraphale is a deserter. I need everyone to remember that. He yeeted himself out of Heaven and sought out Crowley before even locating a body just to warn him about what was happening so they could try to save the world together.

I can't help but think of 1941 and that magician who had been arrested for being a deserter.

Aziraphale disobeyed orders. That took courage but it branded him as a traitor against Heaven. They tried to destroy him for it the same way Hell tried to destroy Crowley for his part in stopping the war.

Aziraphale and Job are the only characters we have seen interacting with God directly. Aziraphale has spoken to God before and he is determined to do so again.

Aziraphale knows Heaven is flawed, but he also knows it's supposed to be good. He wants it to be good. He does not like the way the system works and he wants to make a difference. (And I'm pretty sure he's also determined to talk to God without being intercepted by The Metatron.)

Since when is that a bad thing? I don't get it. And I've had this discussion before.

If you need to change the system by burning the old one to the ground, it's still change, and we don't know what Aziraphale has planned.

It seems to me that people just want to see Aziraphale fail because it would punish him for returning to Heaven instead of running off with Crowley.

Some of y'all take everything Aziraphale says or does and twist those things into malicious anti-Crowley actions because you think the only reason Aziraphale exists is to make Crowley happy, and if he isn't thinking only about Crowley then he's doing something wrong.

Aziraphale does not exist as a plot device to further Crowley's character. They come as a pair. They've been learning from each other for 6,000 years. Crowley challenges Aziraphale just as much as Aziraphale challenges him.

You can be mad at Aziraphale all you want, but villainizing him is gross. Defending Crowley does not mean you have to tear down and mischaracterize Aziraphale anymore than defending Aziraphale means you have to tear down Crowley (but I don't see that happen on nearly the same level it happens to Aziraphale). Stop painting Aziraphale as an abusive partner, for fuck sake.

Aziraphale knows there are flaws in the system. He wants to make a difference, and since he has seen that Gabriel can change, then maybe the whole system can. He has to at least try, and if he can succeed then maybe he and Crowley can stop hiding and finally be together without having to look over their shoulders all the time.

Why is that a bad thing? He's just as protective of Crowley as Crowley is of him!

But don't forget that Aziraphale's wing was covering Adam and Eve too. As much as a wants to protect Crowley, he has a moral imperative to keep humanity safe as well.

He sent Adam and Eve into the unknown with a flaming sword so they could protect themselves.

As much as he wants to be with Crowley, there are 8 billion people on Earth heading toward the Second Coming and Judgment Day. They'll work together to fight alongside humanity in the end. Aziraphale should not have to humiliate himself just to earn Crowley's forgiveness. That's a rancid notion.

The Resurrectionist was a whole ass moral dilemma for Aziraphale, which is why I brought up The Good Place earlier, but that's a post for a different time.

Aziraphale has his own motivations and they're just as important as Crowley's, and they don't have to be chalked up to Aziraphale being the bad guy. Weird, I know, but shades of grey.

"To the world."

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale defense squad #yeah i'm being bitchy #no i don't care if you're offended #no i'm not interested in your aziraphale hate #i'm not interested in hearing takes about aziraphale being toxic from people who can't even be objective #some of y'all need to watch the good place because you need a lesson in moral philosophy #we should be able to have discussions about the characters without gross takes calling aziraphale abusive #az and crowley approach everything from wildly different perspectives because of where they are #just admit y'all shit on az because he doesn't look or act like crowley #I'm so done with the shitty aziraphale takes #they aren't even interesting enough to debate #they're just annoying

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 month

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WE NEED A SERIES ABOUT HOW SKZ ARE LIKE WHEN THEY'RE INTERESTED IN SOMEONE

i just read leeknow's version and I'm so interested! please consider making it a series 💖

Ooooooooh- okay okay!!!

This anon ask is what got the most popular views in my vote so welcome to the second post of March!!!

What a beautiful way to start the autumn season :)

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes and should not be taken seriously, this is for funsies.

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐊𝐢𝐝𝐬: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 '𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲' 𝐘𝐨𝐮?

Bang Chan:

His Libra Moon/Mercury and Scorpio Venus means you have to be friends with him for him to develop a crush on you, he might think you're pretty from the moment he sees you but he has to build a rapport and establish a good 'vibe' before he even thinks about dating you.

Chris would be more giggly and physically affectionate than usual, he'd give you more compliments than he does his other friends...might even be more teasing or playful towards you.

He honestly seems like the type of man that would ask you out over Messenger but I hope he would take the time to confess his feelings to you in person.

'So...we've been friends for a while right? And I think you know that I like you more than a friend...so would you want to be something that's more than friends?'

Lee Know:

Lee Know's Sagittarius Moon/Scorpio Mercury and Venus indicates a slow...SLOW burn type of dynamic where he could be crushing on you for MONTHS and you wouldn't even notice.

The type to scrawl through your social media but would not even utter a single confession to your face until he can't take it anymore and he has to spill.

He would prefer to make the first move so he can think of a hundred different ways of how the scenario could go, he would put effort into showing care for you and then act nonchalant about it.

Lee Know is the type to pay for your coffee every time you're together and then act like it's a gesture he'd do for anyone (which we know he wouldn't).

'You don't know I like you??? I have liked you for months now, I bought you coffee all the time, I thought I was being obvious'

Seo Changbin:

Changbin's Virgo Venus and Leo Moon with Cancer Mercury also indicates he would probably show his attraction to you in an indirect manner because Virgo Venuses love to enjoy showing their attraction to you in the most quietly 'detailed' way.

Is the type to ask you about your workout routine or your favourite places to eat, he's also the type to keep a list in his phone of things you enjoy so he can ask about them later.

'So...you mentioned how you like guys that work out right? Does that mean you would like me when I workout?'

Hwang Hyunjin:

Hyunjin's Pisces Venus/ Virgo Moon (maybe)/Aries Mars indicates a man who's a true romantic and an impulsive one at that.

His fanciness for you would manifest in him being more giggly and physically affectionate with you, maybe casually rubbing your arm or welcoming you with a squishy hug.

Eventually, he'll reach a point where he's so overwhelmed and bursting with feelings...he just HAS to reveal them to you and his confession would make you feel like a Hollywood romantic drama.

'I have to tell you something and so I'm going to say it before I can't...I like you, I REALLY like you and I can't hide it anymore.'

Lee Felix/Han Jisung:

I'm combining these two together because they share both the same Venus and Mars signs with the exception of Han being a Pisces Moon and Felix being an Aries Moon.

They both would be the nervous type and Han might even be more shy with you than he would be with his other friends whilst Felix might be more conversational and maybe even to the point of annoying with how friendly and hyper he might be.

Han would be interested in understanding what your hobbies, values and desires are.

Felix would bring you gifts, offer you suggestions for songs to listen too and try and become invested in the hobbies you're interested in.

( I am watching Law and Order: SVU and I get why people have been invested in Olivia and Elliot for 25 years because they are both fine af!!!)

They would both be nervous and in fact might give you enough hints that they are interested in you to make the first move on them.

Han: 'So...if someone said that I like you...what would you think about that?'

Felix: 'Look...I don't know how else to say this but I...I like you and I don't know what to do about it'.

Kim Seungmin:

Seungmin's Cancer Moon and Virgo Mercury indicates a forthright but gentle way of expressing his feelings for you, sure he's sassy and a bit cheeky but his confession would still be romantic.

But definitely more straightforward than the others, people who have a Virgo Mercury don't like to sugar coat anything.

'Here's your coffee order, did I get it right?...I like you- I really, really like you and I wouldn't mind taking you out- just the two of us...if it's okay with you?'

Yang Jeongin:

Jeongin and him having an Aries Venus WITH a Mercury in Aquarius??? Friends pffft what friends?

Jeongin is too impatient to form a friendship with you and he's probably the type to openly admit his feelings for you in a calm and slightly non-chalant manner- like the true fuckboi he would be.

'You like me noona, I know you do because I want you even more so what are we waiting for? I want you to be mine'

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @hipster-shiz @cherry-0420 @ja3hwa @justaaveragereader @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @wisejudgedragonhairdo @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @sensitiveandhungry @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @starillusion13 @escapetheshark @daddysspecialdollyworld @jus2passtime @shroomoth @marykpoppins @leomggg @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @leenaur

#kpop smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #skz smut #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #felix lee #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #kpop astrology

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cult-of-the-eye · 6 months

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Obligatory tma halloween headcanons post:

tim and sasha are OBVIOUSLY barbie and ken from the barbie movie (other people have said it before and i'll gladly support it)

martin is some horribly obscure costume from a book or a poem no one really knows about and he gets a bit sad that no one knows who he is but then sasha does a quick google and subtly drops hints to everyone to go be like "heyyyy martin, amazing x costume" and then he cheers up

jon just refuses to dress up and everyone (especially Tim) bullies him like "oh amazing socially inept man who's desperately trying to seem good at his job costume!! you've got it spot on!!" and he's so furious that he puts on a costume

and in every iteration of these headcanons, martin is FLOORED at whatever he eventually dresses up as and i am all for that i will eat that shit up

he's so starved for interactions with his crush that he goes feral over jon in non-office clothes

favourite jon costumes include: normal clothes plus cat ears, normal clothes and everyone thinks he's come as a vampire, normal clothes in the later seasons and sasha would be like "jon its not ok for you to dress up as a homeless person" with a shit eating grin and jon's like ...what

bonus - jon doesn't need to dress up cause he's already got his costume - it's someone who's good at their job!!

elias LOVES halloween i bet that man is like fuck yeah i can freak out my archival workers in a whole host of new ways - plastic spiders around the office for jon, little clown dolls for tim, eyes EVERYWHERE and its so gaudy and terrible and everyone despises him

also he really doubles down on calling jon the archivist

i feel like tim secretly hates halloween now but in like early working at the institute, he went along with it cause martin put out a little pumpkin on his desk and sasha smiled at it

melanie fucking loves halloween, she's a legitimately terrifying costume, let's go through the haunted house kinda gal and i love that for her. she's a lets watch all three human centipedes in one night and see what happens kinda gal

daisy and basira despise it cause of all the weird shit that people pull on halloween (and they're on edge that they'll be called for some section 31 shit for all of it)

jon also hates halloween for a similar reason - the increase of joke statements and general taking the piss about the magnus institute

yeah that's all i got. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin k blackwood #jmart #tim stoker #sasha james #elias bouchard #alice daisy tonner #basira hussain #section 31 #halloween headcanons #melanie king #jonmartin #please add your own

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halemerry · 9 months

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Okay so I wanna take a moment to talk about gravity. Now I know what this sounds like, but bare with me here I promise I'm not looking to do a physics lecture. But I've been rotating this around in my head for a couple days now and I think there's something really critical in the way the show presents it to us.

For example: it's one of the few things actually listed in our introduction to this show individually while our protagonists build the universe, right between matter and everything else.

The show draws our attention to it here fairly bluntly by naming it but there are other incidents that, while I would not call them subtle, are not quite as on the nose.

There are at least three times Crowley chucks something he's holding in his hands across the room. They're played for comedic bits but they all feel very weird and pointed to me - especially both times he does this to books that he seems to have no purpose for holding other than to chuck them later. It caught my attention mostly because everything in me recoiled at the idea of him doing that, but the more I thought about the way they're so visible and pointed was important. They almost feel like weird hiccups in the scene they're in.

We also get gravity as an implied threat with Gabriel climbing out the window and, of course, with every mention of a Fall. But there's also more mundane uses of gravity in the season that while not odd in isolation, the fact we get it popping up so notably is interesting to me. There's also the scene with Nina and Maggie under the awning where rainwater's weight gets pulled down by gravity, the scene in 1941 where Aziraphale drops the picture of them onto the floor before they have their gray area talk, Gabriel dropping the matchbox, and I'm sure there's more. The point is the show is littered with reminders that gravity exists.

Now I know what this sounds like. I know it seems like yeah. Duh. They're on earth. Which has gravity. Of course gravity is a factor in nearly every physical action they do. Why are you even talking about this at all?

Well, it's because of a scene that is one of my absolute favorites in the whole season: the Gravity Lesson.

The scene opens with Jim throwing a book (My Best Games of Chess, an interesting title that feels pointed) repetitively at a desk. He's testing gravity himself, looking confused.

Crowley then descends from the upper level, carrying a stack of books. He pauses his descent on the spiral staircase and notes what Jim is doing.

Then we get this shot. Notice the light here. Jim is in the light from the windows but relatively in the middle of the shot. He's an angel still, though not nearly as in the Light as he was as Gabriel. And he's notably at ground level, on earth. Meanwhile Crowley blends into the shadows of the shop itself. He continues down the staircase, sauntering vaguely downward, until he finally hits earth level to be even with Jim. There's symbolism here, in the lighting, in the way they move through these frames, in the way the staircase spirals like an orbit.

Crowley continues this same sweeping circular pattern to come around the bookshop and place him in front of Jim. Unable to resist a question, even one that wasn't asked out loud, Crowley tells him about gravity. He moves center toward Jim here. A meeting in the middle. This is the first scene we see Crowley interact with Jim in a way anything near amicable. He explains how gravity works. "It's, um... A thing that happens when objects are pulled together. In this case, they're all pulled downwards because Earth is the largest thing around."

As he speaks, Crowley moves away from Jim, toward the back of the bookshop. But he stops very rapidly because Jim goes and asks him why. Crowley frowns to himself. He says he can't remember. He says it seemed like a good idea when they were all talking about it.

He walks back to Jim, giving this question some real thought, and settles on, "So things would stay where you put them, not just drift off." And Jim, backlit by the windows still, kind of frowns and drops the book again and points out. "But it doesn't stay where I put them. It goes down."

When the book hits the table it also visibly does not land precisely over where Jim dropped it either. It settles out of place, bouncing slightly from the force of it. This is what drew my attention to this scene more than anything else.

Because it's interesting isn't it? They're both right in their assessment here. And so much of this story is about people not fitting quite where they're dropped. Aziraphale and Crowley are both caught in Earth's gravity, jostled out of their respective places. The very first shot in the intro sequence emphasizes this idea. Crowley and Aziraphale meet in the middle on earth (where Crowley then says let there be light and lights a flame to guide them going forward).

Gabriel and Beez too fall out of line as soon as they get caught in Earth's gravity. Memories are deleted, but can't entirely escape the gravity of their old home. Memories are added, but you can't predict exactly the way they'll form. Miracles backfire and don't land quite as they're expected. We obey Heaven or Hell as far as we can, but not necessarily exactly as they'd like. These shifts eventually become predictable and eventually we learn we can calculate the odds of how gravity can impact something, but as Jim shows us here a little bit of the drift still happens. In the end it's all just firing bullets at ears and pretend to catch them in our teeth.

And there's viewing this line of thinking from the perspective of God. God who functionally dropped the universe into the gravity of Fate and Choice just to see where it would land.

And then there's the Fly.

As Jim points out here, some things actively resist gravity, at least temporarily. Flies go up. This is very fun, given Beelzebub's arc this season, but I think it's getting at more than just that. Crowley and Jim both pause to watch the fly rise upward, drifting away from Jim and toward the dark half of the shop. Crowley says Jim makes a good point and then shifts into "Right, the plan, Operation: Lovebird."

Given the plot of season 1, I find the use of the word plan here pretty interesting. Especially given that the event that follows this is Crowley trying and failing to get Nina and Maggie to recreate his own meet cute. Like the idea of these two being drawn together will fix everything.

And that got me thinking about Crowley's line at the end of season 1. About what if God planned it that way. What if they're God's own Operation Lovebird. We know that together they can do very powerful things. This whole season starts with them, while trying to keep their power under control and contained, do a miracle so big it could've brought someone back from the dead nearly 25 times. Last season ends with Heaven and Hell thinking they've become something impossible. The Metatron here goes out of his way to separate the two of them like he's afraid of what they're capable of together. And he seems to have successfully managed to do this.

But a Fly can't stay in the air forever. The Fly is always drawn back to Jim. Because not all gravity is about Earth itself. The same way Gabriel's memories are drawn back to him. The same way Beelzebub and Gabriel are drawn to each other in the first place. The same way Aziraphale and Crowley have been described time and time again as drawn in by each other. They're Alpha Centauri. Twin stars orbiting each other. They're constantly going in circles around each other. It's a dance. With the hands touching in the middle. Because that is a gravity too. They complete each other the same way the Fly completes Jim.

So what about choice? Think about the Ball episode. Think about how everyone in the shop is being influenced by some sort of miracle. Their clothes and behavior shift and change and Nina in particular shows us that this is Noticeable. Forcing something in a gravity it doesn't like or want makes it have a hard time settling. It doesn't go quite where you drop it.

And then there's the chat Nina and Maggie have with Crowley. "We're not a game. We're real people," says Maggie. And Crowley tries to argue this saying that they both needed help and they both push back that it is still not his right to meddle with. A game. Like the title My Best Games of Chess. Like the thing we know God has been using as a framing device since season 1. A thing the narrative always has pushed as a bad thing.

Maggie and Nina are choosing to not let beings above them influence their choices. They actively resist being compelled by Aziraphale in the bookshop together because they know what's right. His gravity is not enough to overwhelm their choices. And at the end maybe they're not together but they're working on it. And, maybe, if they do come back together (when they do, according to Maggie) it will be when they are ready and when they are choosing each their free of the constraints of the game or higher power. And that gives me hope that's where we're headed for the Ineffables as well.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens season 2 #good omens meta #Crowley #Aziraphale #Gabriel #Beelzebub #Maggie #Nina #gravity #I'm going sicko mode and I am Thriving

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galactic-rhea · 3 months

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WDYM Anakin is Luke and Leia's dad

I dunno if this post will reach the Star Wars fandom but I hope it does because I'm sure you all will get a good laugh at me.

As of recent I have developed a good hiperfixation for Star Wars, the thing is I knew nothing. NOTHING about Star Wars besides the fact it had aliens and...a war...in space? And funny swords. And main character is Luke or something, I spent over 20 years ignoring anything about Star Wars and somehow missing most references out there.

And recently, literally less than a month ago I saw a gif and said to my partner "oh this guy this guy looks cool, this gif looks nice" and he said "Oh well, he's a good character." And it all developed into me watching Clone Wars, the animated series you know and...and I was kinda blown away, on my opinion the show IS GREAT. And I love every character and their interactions, I love how much they focus on side characters, and they all seem very well written. I got hiperfixated really fast and saw Anakin and I was like "Omg, babygirl. He's a blorbo now."

And because of the show, this was super unexpected, but somehow I also got, really got, into the ship with Padmé because omg, cool woman. Literal happy squeaky noises of someone who was in a bad state and needed some good ol' distraction and comfort.

Now, like I said I knew nothing about Star Wars as a whole. And I still haven't watched the movies, besides the ocassional gif?

So imagine my shock, my surprise, my...bewilderment when I realized.

"Wait a minute, LUKE IS ANAKIN'S SON?! HOLY-"

Ladies, gentleman, and others, I think I came very late to this party and I don't even know how it took me so long.

Not only that, but because of this sudden love for the series, I went to my friends circle like "BESTIE, GUESS WHAT, I HAVE A NEW BLROBO AND A NEW FAV SHIP AND EEEP"

And my friends are like "omg that's amazing, what is it?"

I tell them, and of course they all know these characters and they all react like they know this very bad secret fact and I got told several times already "Please, don't watch the episodes 2 and 3 alone, it will hurt."

I feel like blissfully walking among rainbows and blue skies while everyone else know that my future is doomed. Somehow.

(Uncomfortable silence)

Not only that, but then I spent a whole deal of time thinking "Where the heck I have seen these guys" cus there was some fmailiarity I couldn't just point out and then one day I woke up, brushed my teeth and of all sudden I realized and it was such a shock.

Do you know how SURREAL is to get very into a character, and into a ship, and then realize they're the same from that super widespread meme that has been around for who knows how much time?

I swear I thought that meme was from some old medieval fantasy movies or something.

But alas, Star Wars now is EVERYWHERE. People do references to Star Wars ALL THE TIME and it's just now I'm catching them.

I got spoilers. From a meme. In a youtube review that had nothing to do with Star Wars hah. Everything is a spoiler, the world is an apparent spoiler. Now I'm here, trying to avoid spoilers from something everyone seems to know, even my family knows. It's so surreal and I wouldn't have it any other way 😂

Anyways, if you read until here, know that a wild ride still waits me, cuz I'm only starting Season 3 of Clone Wars and I don't plan to watch the movies until I finish the series.

And yes, I made this blog just to ramble freely about SW and draw stuff because it sparked my inspiration after a long art block.

Have this doodle I drew after watching the two first episodes, my offering for you reaching this far.

Note: Wouldn't Anakin and Padmé's ship name be Animé? Cuz that's hilarious.

#rambling #star wars #star wars fandom #anakin skywalker #darth vader #the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw #tcw fanart #clone wars

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somehow-a-human · 28 days

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Oh look it's another crack theory!

Crowley is the current supreme archangel.

DO NOT ASK NEIL ABOUT FAN THEORY

Okay so hear me out, and look, I SAID CRACK! I have fun crack theories pop in my head every once in a while and I'm gonna write em down. It's not cannon with any of my other ideas or metas it's just *a thing*.

So! If you want to follow me down a wormhole of extrapolation, do so below!

"There is always a supreme archangel!"

Michael said it not me! Blame her! But look, that line is a choice, and it feels there for a reason. Maybe there IS always a supreme archangel. Maybe it's not a job you're hired for, maybe it's something that's inherited like royalty, and transfers automatically.

The 25 lazarii miracle.

Okay yes, I think it's just love and angel/demon working together is more powerful than apart, shades of grey, all that. BUT nobody else thinks that. Heaven and hell do not think that. They do not think Az and Crowley should have been able to do that miracle by any means. So I'd assume they're scratching their heads, and Aziraphale does tell the Archangels initially that he performs the miracle alone, which I assume would have then been relayed to the Metatron.

"A miracle of enormous power happened last night, the kind of miracle only the mightiest of archangels could perform" ... "How do you know I didn't do it?"

Let's say I'm right, look I'm humoring my own theory aren't I? Does Crowley know? Would he be aware of what happened? Would he feel it? If he did I could definitely see him keeping that card close to the chest, but still being a snarky ass to Shax.

Crowley opens the file in heaven.

So he's at least a Throne or Dominion or above, probably even higher up than that. He says they never change their passwords, and if that's true what else don't they change? What else have they forgotten? Bureaucratic nightmares like heaven often overlook so many things, who's to say a certain high up angel wasn't taken off all the books fully after they became a demon?

Why does the Metatron actually want Aziraphale back in Heaven?

I mean? Sure he and Crowley averted Apocalypse Part 1 last time I guess that's why, but couldn't there have been an easier way than a faux job promotion? I'm thinking: Gabriel is gone, the position of Supreme Archangel is automatically inherited, none of the Archangels in heaven are it, Aziraphale is suddenly accidentally performing a 25 lazarii miracle all by his lonesome? What if the Metatron thinks it's Aziraphale who has been chosen for the role of Supreme Archangel. But there's one thing he's over looked...

A clerical error.

What if it's not Aziraphale but it's Crowley. Crowley was formerly a high ranking angel before the fall. He's still able to access files in heaven, maybe they've forgotten to completely erase him from all the books and databases, and he was next in line, or maybe God just has a funny sense of humor. Angels and demons alike seem to just automatically listen to Crowley this season and do what he asks, Shax calls him "Arch-traitor" he seems like he might just know a bit too much more than he should, and the scene during the trial where Gabriel says, " However I am the only first order Archangel in the room or ya know the universe." Then the camera cuts directly to a close-up shot of Crowley? It's a bit too foreboding in my opinion to be nothing.

Final Thoughts.

This comic is posted on Whickber street between Aziraphale's Bookshop and the Record Shop. Neil had asked that it revolve around the horrible crime of stealing halos. When I see this comic, I can't help but think that the original halo owner is very James Bond, a character our favorite snake like demon loves to portray. I wonder if Anthony J "just a J really" Crowley chose J for a reason more than just a J (maybe........... Jophiel?), and I wonder if he really was fully deserving of his fate during the fall or if there's a bit more to the story.

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blossomthepinkbunny · 19 days

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Talking about Adam and the villians of HB

Adam is such a dissapointing villain for Hazbin Hotel that absolutely doesn't make use of the great opportunities they had for the bad guy of this project. Like, what is Adam? A sexual, irrational, rockstar asshole who kills demons for fun and is shown to be completely idiotic and unable to make any good point for his actions. And that sucks.

Atleast to me, them making Adam an irredeemable asshole type just seems like the show acknowledging that they can't take any actual feedback on Charlies idea. He is a strawman who never really gets to be anything else until his final moments, when they want you to care about his fight. The show doesn't want you to actually think critical about what Charlie has planned it just wants you to think she is right, by making you hate Adam, by making his side actively carry out genocide. The fact that a show all about revealing that people have layers and presenting seemingly morally grey areas in them has a villian who is completely one note and just evil and irrational because the show needs him to be is not great.

There are actual things that can be criticized about the Hotel and the idea of redeeming sinners, but Adam can't call any of these out because then Charlie would have to defend herself, which she can't do and then you would realize that the writers couldn't think of arguments for why she is right. And then Charlie would come off as not as great as they want you to think she is.

What if he had called out the fact that genuinely no demon seems to give a shit about being a better person. We don't get a definitive time for how long Charlie has been working on the Hotel but we can assume that it has been atleast a little longer. We see her advertise her idea on the news in the pilot and the Hotel makes an advertisement in the first episode, so we know that it's pretty open information that a place where demons can redeem themselves exist. Yet in the entirety of the pilot, season one and however much time lays between the two, only two sinners came to the hotel to change (im not counting staff members because they are there to work, not to be redeemed).

Angel Dust and Sir Pentious are the only ones who came to stay, which either means that just no other sinner cares to be better or that Charlie is not taken seriously and that her hotel is viewed as stupid in concept alone. And you have to remember that even these two didn't initially join because they genuinely wanted to change.

Angel just decided to stay because it was a cheap place to live where he wouldn't have to see Val. And while Pentious does decide he wants to be better, we don't know if he would have even done that, had it not been for the agreement he made with Vox (which made him come to the hotel with bad intentions in the first place).

Why doesn't Adam get to point out that sending Sinners to heaven might be a bad idea when there are probably people that they hurt or may have even killed up there. Like, Angel Dust was in the Mafia and you can assume that he has quite the killcount and it's very possible that some of his victims are in heaven. That goes for every other demon too, they're down there for a reason. And while sometimes that reason might be something stupid or irrelevant, just giving every demon the benefit of the doubt and a chance to get to heaven (in theory) seems pretty irresponsible.

That is also completely ignoring the fact that Charlie's method has no proof of even working. Seemingly in the entirety of hell existing no sinner has ever redeemed themselves and went to heaven until Sir Pentious, which was mostly an accident as well.

I'm not saying Adam had to be likeable or relatable, but it's pretty obvious that they made him so hateable just because. He can't just be an obnoxious, sexist asshole because that's not blatantly evil enough apparently. He also has to commit genocide for no reason other than that he enjoys it. Again, im not saying his genocide should be excusable, but he should have a reason that isn't presented as him just doing it for fun because hes a jackass (he should have a reason that would make what he is doing okay in his own eyes where the viewer could understand how he views the world without having to agree necessarily).

Writing evil characters who are purely bad because they just are can work. But in my opinion that shouldn't be the main villian, especially not in a show where the central idea is supposed to be discussing morality and moral greyness.

Cioccolata from Jjba is a villian where this works in my opinion. He is just evil and Araki really plays that up. He isn't just a crazy doctor type who violently experiments on people for fun, his backstory also shows that he has been doing this since he was 14 and started with driving elders to suicide. And also he films everything he does because he just likes watching people suffer. Cioccolata really is just irredeemably crazy and sadistic but it works for him because he is just a side antagonist and therefore doesn't have the burden of playing as a direct counter to our main protagonist and because for all his immoral actions he still has philosophy behind that. A fucked up philosophy but an understandable (not excusable) one nonetheless. He explaines that in his eyes people can only experience true happiness from two situations. Either when your own despair is replaced with hope, or when one watches other people fall into despair themselves. In his eyes, the more people he watches die, the more he understands the human race and the stronger he gets, which leads into another aspect of his philosophy, which is that the strong have have the right and responsibility to rule over the weak. That is why I think he works.

We actually get some insight into Adams deeper character motivation in his last moments. When he gets upset that the demons aren't just falling at his feet, worshipping him, even though he is the original man all life came from. And that would be a good idea to expand on, that Adam has this intense sense of entitlement that leads him to despise the demons because he doesn't have power over them, when he feels like he should. And because a crowd of people that don't worship him, feels threatening to him, he would want them gone as to not possibly risk his position of power with their ideas.

That could be the reason for why he despises Charlie, because she is a demon who makes her own plans to save her people, which would mean they could start to follow her and work with her, rather than idolizing him. Something like that would work so well for his character and would fit this saviour attitude that some religious people have when "helping" atheists by recommending that they should be religious to make all their problems dissapear or something (no shade to people who genuinely find peace and safety in their religion I think that's actually great but it's not a solution for everybody). The last moments he has give great insight into what his character could've been, had they focused on this, rather than always just having him say how much he enjoys killing demons for no reason.

And in the song he has he also nearly approaches giving another possible reason for his actions (that being that he just doesn't care because demons already had their chance to be good, didn't choose that and now don't deserve a second chance), but that is also never expanded on and is pretty much ignored throughout the season.

Also I find it interesting that Adam has to be completely and irredeemably evil, hated by everyone, while Lucifer gets away with just letting the people he is supposed to rule die like it's nothing. Lucifer didn't to anything to stop the exterminations, he didn't contact his daughter in quite some time and actively mocks her idea when first meeting her after these months of not giving a shit for her or what she does (her idea that is supposed to save his people from literal death btw).

We see him easily finish Adam off in the finale which begs the question for why he just never cared to do anything before. But it's fine because he's just so silly and goofy and actually cares a lot for Charlie say's the show. That is why he gets to be redeemed in the same episode he appeared in for the first time and no one is allowed to question him because then you're just not nice and understanding.

Lucifer didn't have to like sinners. I think his approach of basically leaving the sinners to their own devices is pretty interesting. But HH wants you to hate Adam and like Lucifer without acknowledging that people who just watch bad stuff being done without doing anything about it are also shitty. And for Lucifer it seems extra shitty because we see he can literally just defeat Adam and he just didn't do anything for this whole time.

Helluva Boss has this problem too where it picks characters it wants you to like and if you don't like them then you're just wrong. And therefore no villian gets to call these characters out without being shown to be either stupid, irrational or mean.

Striker was genuinely interesting and cool when he first appeared. He was an antagonist who had understandable goals that tied in well with the trajectory of the story. The classism in hell's society is a pretty relevant theme for HB. We see that Blitzø has to sleep with Stolas to be able to even do his job and earn a living, we see Imps just being tossed around and abused and hear Stolas say stuff like "impish little plaything" to Blitzø. Striker wanting to take the demons of high rank down to make hell better for the Imps by ending classism made sense and was an interesting take to see. Especially since at that point the show didn't insist on Stolas being this misunderstood good guy who just cares soo much for Blitzø, there was a sense of suspense maybe to watch wether or not Blitzø will go along with Striker or if this interaction might influence how he views his clearly predatory "relationship" with Stolas.

But all of that got thrown out the window because in s2 we just can't have people criticise Stolas, since actually acknowledging the fact that he benefited and actively made use of hells classist system would mean that we wouldn't see him as a poor confused bean anymore and that one might actually think of some of the pretty bad implications the Stolitz relationship has. So now Striker is a completely obvious, self obsessed bad guy who loves himself so much that he monologues about how great he feels when torturing Stolas instead of just killing him while they also gave him a weird gimmick where he doesn't like it when someone makes a sexual remark and gets so upset that he drags out Stolas' killing and gets defeated by Millie and Moxxie because of it (the same guy was established as a great assassin in another episode).

They also removed all the backbone to his ideology. He still talks about Stolas diminishing Imps in "Western Engery" but it lacks any point because they have gone so far with woobifying Stolas that he is presented as sympathetic and Striker as bigoted. Striker also acts like he can't kill Stolas because Stella called off the assassination on him. I get him being upset that he won't get his money for the kill but he still has very clear reasons for why he would want Stolas dead regardless (atleast he had when he was still a cool character). It's not like suddenly not being hired anymore would make a big change for him.

Killing Stolas could have consequences because Stolas is royalty, but these consequences always existed for him even while Stella was requesting the assassination. Stella would obviously not want others to know that she is reponsible for Stolas dying (then again we don't know if that would even matter since demons generally don't care about killing others until it's plot relevant) and the point of an assassin is that people are killed in a way that can't be tracked back to someone, so Striker should also not face issues, especially since he is apparently a really good and threatening assassin.

Striker was interesting until the show decided it liked Stolas too much for people to call him out and be presented as reasonable. Stella was turned into just an abusive, whiny and stupid bitch who just hates Stolas and wants his money instead of acknowledging that she pretty much has the same backstory as Stolas, who we are constantly told to feel bad for because of his childhood (arranged marriage, forced to have a child and a set-up relationship neither of them wanted).

Verosika is really not relevant but usually also falls into the "bitchy and just rude" category because she doesn't like Blitzø (it's not as bad for her as it is with Stella but still). Asmodeus and Fizzarolli where really mean and exposed and embarrassed Stolas and Blitzø publicly. But the next time we see Asmodeus interact with Stolas he is just chill with him? Why? Blitzøs and Fizzarollis relationship was atleast handled in a way and we see him act rude towards Blitzø until they make up. But it still followes the theme of people who dislike Stolas and Blitzø either changing their mind or just being shown to be horrible to make their opinion seem invalid (also notice how these male characters in the story get to be forgiven for how they acted and show different sides to their character while the women are reduced to being bitchy).

Barbie Wire was also handled soo bad. She only appears in the last few minutes of her début episode and never gets to talk about specifically why she doesn't want to have contact with Blitzø in the first place. The focus is mostly on how hurt he is by the fact his Sister wants nothing to do with him, even after he worked soo hard to find her and just wanted to make things right with her soo bad. They also basically made her a groomer which just doesn't help her come off as reasonable at all.

For a show that wants it's main characters to do bad stuff and have to deal with being called out for that it surely doesn't like people actually calling them out.

The double standards applied to the villians as opposed to the "good guys" are also just amazing. Like Millie and Moxxie can complain about Chaz being a bad partner in hindsight, but when Verosika talks about Blitzø being selfish in their relationship it's all about how he feels. Loona literally throwing stuff at Blitzø, hurting him just because he dared to carefully point out a true fact about her behaviour is played for laughs, but Stella abusing Stolas is super duper evil and we all hate her now (not saying it isn't bad but the show shouldn't pick and choose who is funny when abusive and who is evil when abusive). The I.M.P taking out random people because they were paid to is fine, but Striker attacking Stolas after being hired is bad just because he also happens to have a (understandable) motiv for why he would want to do it regardless of his job and because Stolas just so happens to be a main character. Blitzø and Loona commenting on Moxxies weight is funny, but when Mammon remarks that Fizzarolli gained a few pounds he is just bad.

That's just my opinion on some of the antagonists in HH and HB. Mammon is pretty much the only villian I really care for in both shows (also Stella and Striker before they got ruined). I mainly think antagonist are either really underused (Vox, Velvette, Verosika) or were just incredibly mishandled (Adam, Striker, Stella). Part of this post was just an excuse to talk about Jjba tho, which I always love.

#hazbin hotel critical #vivzepop critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism

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