#but then i get like this. where.. i guess i'm bored? but i'm looking for something to do and my brain can't settle on one

[azzifudd]

as long as i live

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: inspired by jensen mcrae's massachusetts

rated: teen

4.9k words

disclaimer: fictional!

notes: well! i'm not exactly coming out of retirement, but according to google docs i started writing this in june 2024 which seems wild to me. i pushed myself to finish it up so i could post it for you guys, if anyone's even still interested in reading my stuff. it's a bit different from stuff i've written before but i hope you guys like it anyways. listen to the song while you read, it's great :)

[AO3 LINK]

When someone tells me they're from Massachusetts, now I always ask, "What part?"

“So, where are you from?” 

Part of Azzi cringes inside as she asks such a cliche and boring question, but this is the second blind date she’s been on in the past month, and her social battery is at an all time low. At this point, her date is lucky that she isn’t talking about the weather.

“Born and raised in Minnesota, but I moved out here after college for work.” Her date, Savannah, takes a sip of water, tongue darting out to catch a stray drop that hangs off the corner of full lips. 

Minnesota. Azzi feels her heart stutter at the word. 

“Oh, where in Minnesota?” 

“It’s a small town, you’ve probably never heard of it.” 

It doesn’t even matter, but Azzi wants to know, needs to know.

“Falcon Heights. It’s where the-“

“The State Fair.” Azzi interrupts. “That’s where the State Fair is held.” 

“You’ve heard of it?” 

“I’ve been before, I had a…” Azzi hesitates for just a moment too long. “A friend from Minnesota. We used to go every year.” 

“Maybe I can take you back someday.” Savannah smiles flirtatiously, but it drops when she sees how Azzi is staring off into the distance, unresponsive and trapped in a memory long since passed. 

Azzi gags as she watches Jose bend over a trash can, emptying the contents of his stomach after a clearly too intense roller coaster. 

Their mom rubs a hand along his back as he finally straightens up, face pale and sweaty. 

“I guess this is a good time to finish up our night.” 

They’ve been at the State Fair for over 12 hours at this point, and even though the place is still fairly packed, Jose and Jon have been visibly flagging for a while, and Jose’s sickness is a clear sign for them to start heading home.

“But we haven’t even gone on the ferris wheel yet.” Azzi complains, pouting.

“The line looks long, honey. I’m not sure your brothers will make it.”

“I’ll stay with her.” Paige pipes up. “And my dad can pick us up after we’re done.” 

Azzi bounces excitedly on her heels, gripping Paige’s arm with both hands. 

“Please, please, please?” 

Tim and Katie exchange a look, clearly having an unspoken discussion. Soon Tim shrugs, leaving the decision up to his wife. 

“She’ll be safe with me, Mrs. Fudd.” Paige says, so sweetly earnest in the way only a 16 year old can be. She still hasn’t gotten used to calling Azzi’s parents by their first names.

“Oh, I know that, sweetheart. I’m just worried about what sorts of trouble she might get you into.” 

Katie laughs as Azzi sticks her tongue at her.

“Okay, fine. Just keep an eye on your phones in case we need to get a hold of you.” 

“Thank you!” Azzi gives her parents kisses goodbye and hugs her little brothers before grabbing Paige by the hand and dragging her over to the ferris wheel. 

She’s so excited to ride that she doesn’t notice how quiet Paige is. Her friend normally hardly shuts up, but Azzi doesn’t realize how unlike herself Paige is acting until they’re being ushered into the gondola.

The metal car creaks loudly as it moves, sending them slowly up into the sky. 

“Paige? Are you okay?” 

Paige’s hands are tight around the metal lap bar, fingers pale as she squeezes it tight.

“Yeah!” She says, squeaking when they jolt to a sudden stop, about halfway to the top. 

“Are you afraid of heights?” Azzi asks, almost incredulously. Paige isn’t afraid of anything. She’s always ready to jump in head first, with hardly a thought to the consequences. They’d already ridden most of the roller coasters here without a problem.

“Hell no!” 

Azzi might be more convinced if her eyes weren’t squeezed shut as they started moving again.

“Why’d you agree to come on if you’re so scared?” 

“You wanted to.” 

Azzi feels blood rush to her face. She smiles shyly in response. No one has ever made her feel as special as Paige does, like everything she says matters. She presses close to Paige’s side as the ferris wheel screeches to a stop at the top. 

The view is spectacular. The lights from the rides, nothing compared to the brightness of the stars above them. But Azzi doesn’t look.

“Hey.”

She reaches over and grabs Paige’s hand with her left hand, pulling it from the bar and intertwining their fingers. With her right hand, she reaches up to gently grasp Paige’s chin. 

“Don’t look out there. Just look at me.” 

Paige’s eyes flutter open. Azzi’s mouth feels dry suddenly. She licks her lips watching as Paige’s gaze darts from Azzi’s eyes to her lips and back again. 

Her eyes shine under the light of the moon. They’re beautiful. Paige is so beautiful. Azzi’s heart pounds in her chest. This moment feels more dangerous than sitting hundreds of feet in the air with only a bar of metal keeping you safe. 

Paige leans in, so slow that Azzi knows she could pull away if she wanted to. She doesn’t. She leans in the rest of the way instead, and puts her heart in Paige Bueckers’ hands. 

//

I wonder if you kept the pilgrim ashtray if it's still propped up on your bar cart

“You’re home pretty early, how was it?” 

Colleen had called Azzi almost as soon as she had stepped through the door, which told Azzi that she had likely been checking her location through the night. She had been encouraging about it when Azzi had told her that a teammate was setting her up with a friend of theirs, someone from outside the basketball world. 

But Azzi knows Colleen is still holding out hope that she and Paige are meant to be. She hasn’t mentioned her to Azzi in months, not since the last time she’d had to comfort a drunk Azzi who had broken down just from hearing her name. 

“It was fine. I fucked it up, the usual.” 

Azzi pops the fridge open, pulling out a bottle of wine and grabbing the bottle opener on the door. The bottle opens with a pop and Azzi pours a full glass, takes a few big sips from it, before filling it again. 

“Oh, babe. What happened?” 

How can she explain that the mere mention of Paige’s home state had sent her into a spiral and that she’d had to make a stupid excuse to leave and now probably wouldn’t be able to face her teammate without making a fool of herself. 

“No biggie. We just weren’t compatible.” She takes another swig of wine. “I’m just gonna take a bath and go to bed.” 

“Okay, Azzi. I love you. You know I’m always here if you wanna talk.” 

“Love you too.” Azzi doesn’t know how she would have gotten through these past two years without her. 

Azzi heads into the bathroom, running the faucet to fill the tub. She goes to light one of the many scented candles she’s been gifted over the years, this one that claims to release a relaxing scent, just what she needs tonight. 

The lighter sputters weakly and doesn’t ignite. With a sigh, she heads back into the kitchen, digging into the junk drawer where she knows she has seen a box of matches. 

She finally finds it under a pile of old charging cables, but stops short when she sees what’s printed on it. It’s faded and worn, but the word Ted’s is still visible. 

She rubs her thumb over it. This pack of matches has somehow made the journey from Storrs all the way to her home in San Francisco. 

Azzi slides the cover off. There’s only one match left inside. 

The candle goes unlit. The match untouched. 

“Who wants shots!” Paige’s voice echoes through the bar.

It’s Azzi’s first time at Ted’s as an official member of the team, and Paige is clearly dedicating herself to making sure she has the best possible time. 

Azzi isn’t sure she’s seen Paige stop smiling since she moved into the dorms, and it must be infectious, because the butterflies in her stomach haven’t rested since the moment Paige showed up at her door to help move her in. 

“Paige, relax!” Christyn says, patting Paige on the head and laughing when Paige swats her away to fix her displaced hair.

“Here we go!” Liv comes back to the table holding a tray full of shots. 

The team gathers around, each taking a hold of one of the glasses. 

“To our new teammates. Welcome to UConn, and let’s win a national championship. Go Huskies!” They all throw back their shots at once. 

A few hours later, as Azzi dances with Caroline and Amari, Paige comes bouncing up to them, slipping her arms around Azzi’s waist and swaying behind her. 

She presses her face into the side of Azzi’s neck. “Come outside with me for a sec. Nika gave me a lil’ somethin’ if you wanna try.” 

Azzi nods and lets Paige lead her outside by the hand. It’s a lot less crowded outside, and the light breeze feels good against her sweat slicked skin. 

Paige guides her to a more secluded corner where a lone picnic table sits underneath some fairy lights strung along the patio. Paige sits with the bench between her legs, pulling Azzi to sit next to her. 

She pulls out a joint and wiggles her eyebrows at Azzi. 

“You wanna?” 

Azzi had never dared to try it in high school with her parents always around, but she wants to now. The season doesn’t start for months, and practice not for another week. She nods, eagerly. She knows that there’s no safer person for her to try this with than Paige, who would never let her get hurt. 

Paige passes the joint over. “Hold this for me for a sec.”

She pulls out a fresh box of matches, pulling one out and lighting it with a quick flick of her wrist. She holds it to the tip until it glows. 

“Go ahead.” 

Azzi hesitates for a moment. “I just breathe in?” 

“Mmhm.” Paige nods, watching with rapt attention as Azzi brings the joint up to her lips and inhales. 

A hacking cough bursts out of her throat before the smoke can even hit her lungs. 

Paige laughs as she rubs Azzi’s back. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” she chokes out when she can finally breathe.

“Okay, okay,” Paige holds up her hands in apology. “Here, let’s try another way.” 

She takes hold of the joint, sliding closer until their legs are touching. She brings it to her lips, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in her chest. Then she leans in, giving Azzi a chance to pull away. When she edges just a bit closer instead, Paige seals their lips together, exhaling when Azzi’s mouth opens against hers. 

She keeps them pressed together until she feels Azzi breathe in deep. When she pulls back, Paige keeps their foreheads pressed together.

“How was that?” She asks, voice raspy. 

In response, Azzi just hooks a hand around Paige’s neck and kisses her again. 

//

Could make a grand off of the chain you bought me, but goddamn, it's not for sale

“Azzi!” 

Azzi barely has a moment to steel herself before Nika nearly bowls her over in a hug. 

“I’ve missed you so much.” Azzi says, returning the hug. They hadn’t seen each other since the last time their teams had matched up, but with both teams now out of playoff contention, they had decided to get dinner while Nika was in town.

They spend the night catching up, telling stories and reminiscing about old times, both often changing the subject when it approached the elephant in the room. 

When they’re both three cocktails deep, Nika finally asks, “Do you think you’ll go to the Finals?” 

Azzi knows that the girls have been planning a reunion to see Paige play in her first Finals. She’s sure that it hasn’t gone unnoticed that she hasn’t said anything in the group chat. 

“Of course.” 

She hadn’t told anyone, but she’d booked the ticket the minute the Lynx had clinched their series. Nothing could keep her away. Her hand goes up to fiddle with her necklace subconsciously. 

“That’s great, Azzi. I know she wants you there, more than anything.” 

Nika’s eyes flicker down to where her fingers are toying with the chain. She drops her hand. The charm bounces against her chest. To this day, she can’t explain why she still wears it, just that it’s become like a part of her.

The first thing that Azzi notices when she wakes up, is that there’s someone asleep beside her. It isn’t the strangest occurrence in this house. Sometimes one of her brothers will fall asleep next to her, or one of the dogs will come in seeking her warmth. 

But this body is pressed against her back, a heavy arm slung around her waist. Even the way their breath puffs against her neck is familiar. But the only person Azzi wants to be sharing a bed with is hundreds of miles away, so Azzi turns to lay on her back, her wrapped leg only protesting a little. A wave of blonde hair covers her face. 

“What?” She whispers, because this shouldn’t be possible. She swears she had just fallen asleep talking with Paige about the team’s resounding victory in Aaliyah’s home country. 

Her phone still rests next to her head. When she wakes the screen up, there’s one unread message from the night before. 

Paige💗

See you soon, baby 💗😘

She nudges at Paige’s side, suddenly too impatient to wait for her to wake up. Paige groans, but she opens her eyes, blinking blearily and clearly exhausted. She smiles wide when she sees Azzi. 

“Hey.”

“What the fuck?” Azzi murmurs, still a little bit stunned, and presses close to kiss Paige deeply. 

“Never been happier to miss a night of sleep.” Paige says when they part, smirking.

Azzi whacks her on the shoulder, but gives her another light peck. “What are you doing here?” 

“I missed you. Merry Christmas.” 

Azzi is leaning in to kiss her again when her dad’s voice comes echoing down the stairs. “If y’all are awake, breakfast is almost ready.” 

“Okay!” 

Azzi throws the blanket off of her body, sitting up. 

“Hold on a sec.” Paige walks over to where her duffel bag has been dumped by the door, digging through it. 

She walks back and sits down next to Azzi, holding onto a black box. 

“I know Christmas isn’t actually for a few days, but I can’t wait any longer.” 

Azzi takes the box in her hands, feeling the softness of the velvet under her fingers. She opens it to reveal a silver heart encrusted with diamonds dangling from a delicate chain. It looks a lot like a necklace that already sits in her jewelry box, except this one has an infinity symbol embedded within the heart. 

Azzi feels choked up all of a sudden. The meaning of the symbol is not lost on her. She puts the box down on her lap and raises a hand to cup Paige’s cheek. 

“I love it. I love you.” 

Paige leans their foreheads together. “It’s a forever kinda thing. Just like us.” 

//

You broke me to pieces, but I root for you even though everything went up in flames

The buzzer sounds, and the Minnesota crowd is silent. It’s the end of the third quarter, and the Liberty are leading the Lynx by seventeen. Even from up in the suite, Azzi can see how bad Paige’s body language is, how she’s already beating herself up for the loss even though there’s still ten minutes left in the game. 

The camera focuses on Paige, seated at the bench, staring off into the distance even as her coach speaks in the huddle. Azzi stands suddenly, startling KK. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I have to get down there.” She’s not quite sure how she’ll get to the bench, but she’ll figure it out when she gets there.

Luckily when she makes it down there, she bumps into Paige’s agent Lindsay, who greets her with a hug. 

“Azzi!” She looks surprised to see Azzi. “What are you doing down here? I thought you and the other girls were up in one of the boxes.”

“Hey.” She replies, distractedly. “Do you think you could get me courtside?”

Lindsay gives her a slightly pitying look. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I know it is.” Azzi says, absolutely certain. She knows, at least, that she has to try. 

Lindsay leads her to her seat, just a few rows behind the home bench. The Lynx have cut the lead to thirteen, but there’s still a steep hill to climb with less than half a quarter of the game left. When one of the Liberty passes skips out of bounds, the Paige’s coach calls a timeout to steady the team. 

Paige stomps back to the bench, clearly frustrated and lifts her jersey to wipe the sweat from her face. As she reaches the bench, she finally looks up, eyes locking with Azzi’s. She freezes. 

Azzi smiles at her, and taps a hand on her chest where the number 5 rests proudly on her chest. 

“Breathe.” She mouths. “You got this.” 

Paige finally blinks. Azzi sees her take a deep breath, and then another. She nods at Azzi before taking a seat on the bench and listening as her coach speaks. Then she’s sticking her head in the huddle and taking charge. 

Her teammates all watch with attention, swept up in her emotions. Azzi misses it sometimes, the way Paige could make you believe you could accomplish anything just because she believed in you.

The buzzer goes off, signaling the end of the timeout. As she heads back onto the floor, Paige turns back toward Azzi. She rests a hand over her heart and then points back to Azzi. Her teammate inbounds the ball to her. 

In the remaining minutes, Paige outscores the Liberty all by herself, and the Lynx come back to win game one.

“Congratulations, Ms. Rookie of the Year.” 

Azzi steps up to Paige, wrapping her arms around her neck and leaning in to kiss her. Paige has been talking with the press all day, and Azzi hasn’t seen her since she left the apartment this morning.

Paige turns her head, and Azzi’s lips land on her cheek as she turns her head to check one end of the hallway, and then the other. They can hear the sound of a door opening in the distance, and Paige flinches minutely. 

Azzi drops her arms and steps back, eyes focusing on the ground.

“Hey.” Paige looks down, making eye contact with her. “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” And Azzi does know. She knows Paige really is sorry, and that it’s not just something she’s saying to appease her. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

Still, she throws a smile on her face. “You ready to head out?” She’d made a reservation, at one of Paige’s favorite restaurants, a few weeks ago for them to celebrate. 

Paige’s expression shifts again, just barely, but Azzi knows every inch of her. 

“What is it?”

“The team invited me out to celebrate. Phee got a hook up at a restaurant. You’ll get to hang with Dorka.” Paige says, like it’s a consolation prize.

Azzi feels that familiar disappointment swell within her, but she pushes it down. They’re going to celebrate Paige, so Azzi will go along with a smile on her face.

It’s not even 11 PM when Azzi decides that it’s time for her to go. Her head is pounding and she’s barely spent even five minutes with Paige since they got to the club. She finds Paige by the bar, grabbing another round for the team.

“I’m going home,” Azzi says, trying to avoid looking into Paige’s hazy, glazed over eyes. 

“What?” Paige frowns. “We barely just got here.” 

“I know, you should stay and celebrate, but I’m going.” Azzi pushes past, not letting Paige talk, she can’t have this conversation, not here. 

She pushes out the door, breathing in cool air. A quick peek at her phone shows that her Uber will be here in just a few minutes. She jumps when a hand clasps her shoulder and turns to find Paige. 

“What’s the matter? You’re upset.” Paige looks so worried, and it makes Azzi almost want to laugh, if it didn’t hurt, just how clueless Paige could be sometimes. 

“I’m fine. Go back inside,” she replies, voice short.

“What happened? You barely talked to anyone the whole night.” 

“I’m tired, Paige.” Azzi blinks furiously as tears fill her eyes. “Sometimes, I just want to be able to hold your hand, and I can’t, and I can’t even be mad at you about it. I’m so tired, so please, just let me go home.” 

Paige freezes. Her hand is outstretched, but she’s stopped short of making contact. For a moment, Azzi wishes Paige would just grab her, hold on, tell her to stay. But she doesn’t, and Azzi just gets into the Uber and drives off, leaving Paige behind on the sidewalk.

When Azzi wakes up the next morning, she feels hungover, even though she had barely drank the night before. Her eyes feel swollen from crying and her body sore from being curled up in a ball all night. Paige isn’t asleep beside her, but that’s no surprise. Sometimes the blonde will sleep on the couch when she gets home late because she doesn’t want to disrupt Azzi’s sleep. 

She finally drags herself out of bed, heading toward the kitchen in search of caffeine. She stops short when she sees Paige sitting at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee. 

“I’m surprised you’re awake already.” Azzi offers, feeling regretful at her harsh tone from the night before as she looks at Paige’s drawn, tired face. 

“Haven’t slept.” Paige takes a sip of her coffee. 

She finally looks up, into Azzi’s eyes, and before she can even speak, Azzi knows. 

“Paige…” She starts, voice already wobbling. She sits gingerly in the chair next to Paige.

“Azzi.” Paige responds, sounding so steady Azzi shouldn’t be able to suspect that she is about to break Azzi’s heart. But Azzi knows Paige, and can see the pain in her expression. 

“Don’t do this.” 

“I’m doing this for you.” Paige reaches out for Azzi’s hand, and when she holds it gently, they’re both shaking.  

“Don’t.” Azzi chokes out again.

“You deserve so much more than what I can give you.” Azzi notices how Paige stares behind her head, unable to even make eye contact with her. 

“I know you are a lot of things Paige Bueckers, but I never thought you were a coward.” Azzi jerks her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself. 

“I’m sorry.” 

//

The fire in my gut that I've chased ever since

“Azzi! Wait!” 

Azzi almost doesn’t hear her over the constant hum of people moving about the arena. But she’s always had a sense for Paige, from the moment they met, like a thread connecting them no matter where they were. She stops in the hallway where she had fled after the final buzzer had sounded.

“Congratulations, Paige.” 

“Thank you.” Paige pants, still catching her breath.

There’s a beat of silence, but it’s almost comfortable, in a way the space between them hasn’t been for years. 

“Azzi-” 

“Paige-” 

They laugh when they both speak in unison. Azzi puts a hand out, gesturing for Paige to talk.

Paige steps forward, reaching her hand out, a question in her eyes. 

Azzi almost says yes, almost reaches out to answer. But she’s been burned before, and it’s not always easy to be brave. So she takes the easy way out. 

“Win this thing, and then we can talk.” 

“‘Win this thing?’ The championship?” Paige asks, almost incredulous. 

“Yeah.” Azzi smirks at her, already drawn back into a familiar banter. “Unless you don’t think you can do it.” 

Paige scoffs immediately. “I’ll see you when I lift that trophy.” 

Paige had already known she was going to play her heart out, but nothing gets her competitive spirit going more than Azzi challenging her. 

Paige stares at Azzi for a moment, just drinking in the sight of her with her number on her chest, knowing that when Azzi turned from her that she would see her name stretched across her back. 

She smiles at Azzi, and it feels almost unfamiliar, smiling and knowing it’s true and sincere. 

Azzi smiles back, and Paige knows this championship is hers. 

“Azzi! Hold up!” Azzi freezes in place, recognizing that voice. She rubs a hand over her forehead. She almost wants to keep going, just jog down the hallway and right out of the arena. 

Instead, she just takes a deep breath and then another, and turns around. Her traitorous heart still quickens at the sight of Paige Bueckers smiling at her. 

“Hey,” Paige says, voice soft as she runs her eyes down Azzi’s chest, lingering on the purple logo and #35 bold on her chest.

“Hi.” Azzi replies, eyes darting to and from Paige’s face. There have been a few unanswered and clearly drunk texts, from both sides, and a huge bouquet at her doorstep after she had been drafted, but this is the closest they’ve been in nearly a year.

“You kicked our asses huh?” 

It had been Azzi’s first time matching up against the Lynx, but it’s just their luck that Paige hadn’t even been able to play, a hand injury keeping her out of the line up. It had been a hard fought game, with Azzi’s Valkyries coming out on top, but it hadn’t been what Azzi had wanted.

“I missed you out there.” 

It’s the truth. Despite their distance, Azzi has long dreamed of the moment she and Paige would face off in the WNBA, and it was disappointing that it had been delayed like so many of their on the court moments. 

Paige gives her that crooked smile. “I’m so proud of you.” 

Every emotion floods through Azzi at that moment. Anger, sadness, joy, hope, love. This is what she’d wanted. Just her and Paige and the game they loved so much.  

But then she remembers why she’s been miserable for nearly an entire year despite achieving her biggest dreams. She remembers why she hasn’t been able to share her proudest moments with the person she loves the most. 

“What do you want, Paige?” 

Paige steps closer, until they’re within arms reach. 

“I just- I had to talk to you; tell you how happy I am for you.” 

Azzi feels herself softening, like she always has around Paige. 

“Thank you.” Somehow the hallway seems quiet, even though Azzi knows there are thousands of people beyond these walls. 

“I-” 

Paige is interrupted when a voice calls down the hall for Azzi. The team’s PR person is looking for her, and Azzi’s late for media. 

Paige takes a big step back, and Azzi is brought back to that day a year ago, and the heartbreak feels almost as fresh. But she decides then and there that she’s cried enough over Paige Bueckers, and so she just smiles, wistfully. 

“I’ll see you around, Paige,” she says, and then she walks away. 

//

You set the bar, you're gonna stick

“And for the first time since 2017, the Lynx have done it! Minnesota, your Lynx are WNBA Champions once more!” 

The cheers of the fans is near deafening. The Liberty players leave the court in stunned silence as the Lynx players pile on top of each other with joy. 

Azzi whoops, voice hoarse from hours of non stop cheering. She knows it might be a bad look, as a member of another team, to be this excited, but she can’t help it.

Suddenly there’s a loud swell of noise, and the crowd on the court parts. Paige is pushing her way through the throng of people, and a mob of cameras is following her. She finally makes her way to where Azzi is standing, a few rows up from the court. 

She smiles at the fans, who all clamor for her attention, but Paige is on a mission. She pushes her way through the crowd, ignoring how the team’s security is nearly begging her to come back down. 

“Paige! What are you doing?”

“I did it!” Paige beams, blue eyes brimming with joyful tears.

Azzi throws her arms around her, barely registering the noise around them.

“I love you!” Paige cups her hand around Azzi’s ear as she speaks, and Azzi feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. 

“What?” Azzi laughs, in disbelief. “Paige, you just won a championship! They’re about to announce you as Finals MVP.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Paige pulls back and presses their foreheads together. “All of this is empty without you with me.” 

Cameras flash all around them. The entire world is watching, and Azzi knows that this is impulsive and that they have so much they need to talk about, but in this moment, it feels like they’re just kids again, sitting atop a creaky ferris wheel with their whole future ahead of them. 

This time, Azzi leans in first, lets Paige decide. 

This time, she doesn’t hesitate. 

[fuctacles]

i was gonna cut it in half, but you get 2k for Valentine's Day <3

<< thirteen | 😺 | fifteen >>

Eddie asks Wayne where is a good place to make key copies, and drafts a plan. He'll go to Steph's salon, pick up her keys, make a copy for her, and drop them back before she leaves work. Just a tiny good deed from a friendly neighbour, so she doesn't have to juggle her one set between cat feeders and whatnot. 

Except Wayne sees through him immediately and throws a bucket of cold water on his enthusiasm.

"While I fully support whatever you two are doing..." He promptly raises his hand so Eddie would spare him any of the explanations brewing behind his lips. "I think this would be a little too much."

"How?" Eddie frowns, confused.

"Well, a bachelor she has just met is asking for her keys to make copies. It's a little too much too fast, don't you think?"

Eddie opens his mouth, closes it. Frowns.

"Maybe?"

"How would you feel if a new friend thought they know better how many keys you should own?" Wayne raises his eyebrows. "And took it upon themself to do it for you?"

"Okay, fine, I hear you!" Eddie groans, throwing his hands up. 

Wayne sips on his coffee, now calm enough that his nephew won't do something too stupid. 

"With that said, I too think it's silly to not have a spare."

"Thank you," Eddie murmurs, drumming his fingers against his cup. "So what do I do?"

"Buy her flowers, ever heard of it?" Wayne raises his eyebrow. 

Eddie twists his mouth, unconvinced with the idea. 

"I don't know, it sounds pretty forward..."

Wayne almost snorts his coffee out of his nose.

Eddie follows the blanket permission he got the last day and walks up to Steph's apartment around the same time. Since he felt that bringing her flowers would be too much, he settled on cookies from his favorite bakery. They could share them with coffee or tea, and it wouldn't be too weird. 

It's just...

He really hopes they could actually talk.

When he opens the doors labeled 54, he's hit with the smell of spices. Steph leans through the kitchen door to greet him.

"Hi! I'm making fried rice, do you want some?"

Eddie nods, curbing the desire to come over and kiss her.

"Yeah, it smells good." He steps into the kitchen, setting the cookies on the counter. "Can I help with something?"

Steph keeps stirring for a second, before she points to one of the cupboards.

"Take out two bowls, please?" she asks.

Eddie's been in the apartment all alone, and he's looked through Steph's stuff to some extent. Opening cupboards while she's cooking shouldn't feel as thrilling as it does. 

When she finishes the food, he grabs beers for the two of them, and they move to the the living room again, a movie already waiting to be played.

"Is Willow okay?" she asks, hovering over the play button, and Eddie's eyes couldn't go any wider. Only one lamp is left on in the room, and the TV is illuminating Steph like an angel offering him the finest pleasures in life. 

"Is the sky blue?" he shoots back. "It's one of my favorites." 

She smiles, all self satisfied and wide, like she already knew he'll love the movie. 

Eddie tilts his head, eyeing her suspiciously. 

"Did Wayne tell you?"

Steph shakes her head 'no'. 

"It was a lucky guess," she admits coyly. 

Oh, to be known like that by another human. Have someone with enough intimate knowledge of him to guess his thoughts, pick out things they know he'll like. She knows he'll like. 

Eddie does like the movie, but he wishes it was something boring so they could talk. Of course, he's also enjoying having Steph pressed against his shoulder, and the movie is a great excuse to just be in her presence, without the responsible adult communication thing. 

It's when she gets up asking if he wants another beer, when he realizes he's been too engrossed in the movie. 

"Uh, I'm not even halfway," he says, moving the bottle in his hand. 

"But are you gonna drink more?"

"Probably," he shrugs. 

She brings back another four beers, and as this time he's paying attention, he notices she's already drunk a fair amount of the one she's holding.

"Everything okay?" he asks gently. He doesn't remember Steph drinking this fast, or this much, during their previous hang-outs. And it's a weekday, too.

"Mhm, yep." She plops down next to him heavily, but even the weight of her body against him doesn't soothe his nerves. On the contrary. It's easy to tell she's already tipsy, and she's planning to have at least two more beers, including the one in her hand. 

"Not to be a buzzkill, you know..." Eddie licks his lips nervously. "But you're drinking more than usual."

She makes an amused sound, deep in her throat.

"Tell that to my high school self."

"Well, I'm telling it to my adult friend Stephanie, I don't know that other one."

Steph huffs, staring at the screen.

"Good."

At loss of what else to say, he leans back against the couch, hoping the press of their shoulders will bring her some comfort his words apparently can't. He's turning to the TV, when she speaks up.

"I have something to tell you."

Eddie's eyes immediately go back to her, but she's staring ahead. 

"Yeah?" he prompts.

"After the movie."

He's confused and worried, but since she wants him to stay, it can't be anything bad, right?

"Okay," he says, feeling anything but. All the possible confessions are going through his mind, movie forgotten. The only things he's aware of are Steph's movements when she brings up the bottle to her lips, and her muscles flex against his arm, and his own racing thoughts. 

She's going to tell him she's a lesbian just like Robin. Maybe they're secretly a long distance couple, or she has a thing with Joyce. Or she has a man in another state. A secret family, a husband? What if she has a kid? Eddie would make a good step-dad, but he wasn't planning for that any time soon. Or maybe it's way simpler than that, and she'll finally tell him to stop, that she's not interested, never was. That Eddie, a metal musician still in college, isn't worth it. 

"I wasn't born a woman."

The credits are rolling on the screen, letters forming Eddie's miserable scenarios, and he's so focused on them he barely hears Steph's words. But finally, he turns his head towards her. She's slumped next to him, picking on the label of her empty beer bottle. He's so relieved he doesn't understand what's going on.

"I know." Not his best reaction but he can't believe she's been worried about it all this time, drinking just to tell him something he's already figured out.

Steph frowns, before turning to him with glassy eyes. 

"You know?"

He points to the collage on her wall.

"You have your old photos right there?"

She stares at the display like she's seeing it for the first time in her life. Her eyes widen with the realization and she makes a sound between a snort and a groan, head falling back. 

"Of course I fucking do."

Eddie drums his fingers against his beer bottle. He still has a couple of swings left. 

"Is that what you were so worried about?"

"Of course!" She throws out her hands angrily, startling him. "It's always 'do you not want me, Steph?' and then 'ew, you have a what?' or 'i always wanted to fuck someone like that' and honestly? At this point I don't know which one is worse. So yes, I was fucking worried!" 

Steph stands up angrily, swaying a little, but she quickly catches her balance. She starts gathering the empty bottles and Eddie rushes to help before she drops any and makes a mess, but she gathers them petulantly in her arms. 

"You can go, I got this," she says dismissively. 

"I want to help," he protests, hands held out uselessly. Steph marches to the kitchen, all the bottles pressed close to her chest. Eddie quickly follows, but she safely deposits them all in the sink and stares at them, expression hidden by her hair. 

"Stop sucking up to me. I'm not something to be scratched off a bucket list."

"What?" Eddie frowns. 

Steph finally turns towards him, and now he wishes she didn't. Her eyes are sad and angry and he doesn't like them directed at him like that. 

"Is that why you kissed me? Because you knew?"

'I always wanted to fuck someone like that.'

"No. No," he protests firmly. "I liked you before that, it doesn't matter to me."

"Are you sure?" she scoffs. "You might change your mind when I get undressed."

"I highly doubt that." He crosses his arms over his chest. "I've told you I'm not deterred by d—" His eyes widen momentarily, the word lodging in his throat, but Steph only rolls her eyes with annoyance. 

"You can say 'dick'. I have a dick. I am a woman with a dick."

That's a lot of dicks for just a few words. And Eddie is trying to prove that he's into them but not in a weird way. Which is difficult when you're rarely normal about anything. 

"Yeah, that, and I've had close encounters with those, though never on a woman before," he admits. "I would operate whatever genitals you have because they're yours, not because I'm hoping they're a certain way. I don't care. Well, I care because they're yours, but if you told me I can never touch or look, that's okay." Though what a travesty that would be. What about all the orgasms he promised her in his head? But she still has a prostate, right? He probably could—

"Say it," Steph interrupts his futuristic plans.

"Huh?"

"Say I have a dick." She crosses her arms tightly over her chest. 

Eddie inhales deeply. 

"You have a dick. It doesn't matter to me either way. You could have a pussy, a dick, or a cacti, and I would accommodate. Though we probably would have to get rid of the thorns on the last one. Or get me some protective gear."

She lets out a startled snort.

"Yeah, sure. We'll see about that."

It sounds like a challenge, and while Eddie might hate sports, he loves games. If it's up his alley, he can get competitive easily, and this one promises great treasures, if he wins. 

If only he knew the rules. 

"Tomorrow, same time. Wear something comfortable."

Eddie's eyes widen.

"For what?" His voice comes out higher than he'd like, but his mind quickly resurfaces from the gutter it found itself in, and he frowns, suddenly suspicious. "Will you make me exercise?"

Her features soften, and a playful smirk pulls on her lips. 

"You'll see."

Her smile is a good sign, even if it's at his expense, so he decides not to push his luck anymore and end the night here. 

"Well, I'm gonna..." He awkwardly motions to the door, hesitating. 

Steph is leaning against the bar counter, watching him knowingly. 

"You can get a goodnight kiss tonight," she says, resting her cheek against her palm. "Or get more tomorrow."

Eddie wonders, if the game has already started. He puts his quick Dungeon Master wits to work, and figures with how far he's come, he gets advantage on the Charisma check. 

"I could live off of goodnight kisses for forever," he says. "There's no need for anything more."

He almost feels bad at how fast her resolve crumbles, giving place to fiery red flush. 

"Fucking charmer," she scoffs almost angrily, before rounding the counter towards him. The energy coming off of her makes him take a step back, and he hits the front door. Steph's nails scratch the wooden surface right next to his ear. She tilts her head. 

"You're gonna put your money where your mouth is?" 

Eddie's been trying to get better at that, sometimes to his own demise—staying true to his words, keeping promises. So he reaches for her neck and pulls her in.

It's more like their first kiss than the last one. It's hungrier, the knowledge that they both want more seeping into their muscles, grasping at clothes, pulling and pushing. Eddie groans into Steph's hot mouth, happy to be pressed between her soft, strong body, and the cold door. She pushes even closer, gathering the sound with her tongue and claiming it for herself. 

They pull apart with a wet smack, and Steph laughs breathily at the dopey smile she finds directed at her. She pats Eddie's cheek affectionately and untangles herself from his grasp. The door clicks when she twists the lock, and it seems to bring Eddie back from his daze. 

"Goodnight, Eddie," she says pointedly. 

He blinks at her, before his soft smile comes back, and he reaches up again to place one last kiss on her lips. 

"Goodnight. See you tomorrow," he smiles, before slipping outside the door. 

Steph is terrible person, and also more smitten with this boy than she'd want to admit, so she looks through the peephole at the dimly lit corridor. She hopes Eddie can't hear her chuckle at the silly dance he does while walking away from her door.

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94 @tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman @madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore  @icecat @rootbeerandmusic @mollymawkwrites @milojames16

help me with rent

[deathofacupid]

opposites attract, they say. they attract, but they don't last. at least, not satoru and you.

"'toru," you tug on his sleeve, the silk cool against your clammy skin. he glances away from the gaggle of people surrounding him, a practiced smile flashing across his face. it doesn't reach his eyes.

"yeah, baby?"

you inhale, the bass of the music vibrating through your chest, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. "can we — could you…" the words catch in your throat. what were you asking for? sanity? a moment of quiet? "um," you stammer, "when's this going to be over?"

"over?" he echoes, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes, as if the very concept is absurd. "babe, the party just started."

your party. the party you hadn't asked for, the party you dreaded.

"i know," you say, treading carefully. you knew he'd put effort into this. it's just… the room felt like it was closing in. it wasn't his fault, not really. he thrived in this environment, the center of attention, radiating that effortless charisma. people were drawn to him like moths to a flame. and tonight, the flame was burning too bright.

"but… it's just really, um," suffocating is the word that claws at your throat, but it feels too dramatic, too needy. "it's just kind of a lot."

he laughs, a booming sound that seems to amplify the noise around you, and says something you can't hear over the music. "'toru," you sigh, the sound barely audible, "i can't hear you."

he clicks his tongue, a flash of annoyance crossing his features, before he leans in and excuses himself from the group. he takes your hand, his grip a little too tight, and pulls you out onto the balcony of the penthouse. the city lights sprawl beneath you, a dizzying panorama that mirrors the chaos in your head.

"okay," he says, his tone impatient, as if this whole conversation is an unwelcome interruption. "go ahead."

the resentment simmers. you swallow it down. "toru, this is… nice and all, but, uh — i'm just not sure… not sure this is my scene."

he squints at you, his brow furrowed. "what do you mean? it's your party."

"i didn't want one, though. don't get me wrong, this was… thoughtful, i guess. it's just too much for me."

satoru blinks, genuinely surprised, as if you've sprouted a second head. "but…i mean, i thought you'd like it. look at how many people showed up for you."

"'toru, those people aren't here for me. i don't even know most of them."

"it's a party! like, a party party. of course, you won't know all of them."

"i probably don't even know three of them!" you snap, the frustration finally breaking through. "you know i don't like these things," you add, the words softer now, pleading.

"yeah," he scoffs, the sound laced with something you can't quite decipher. "i do."

"well, what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing. it's just," he groans, running a hand through his hair, "frustrating."

"frustrating? it's frustrating? me wanting to spend my birthday with you, that's frustrating?"

"you are with me!"

"and, like, one hundred other people! what's frustrating is that you're not listening! i told you i wanted to spend today, just the two of us!"

"but that's what we always do," he mutters, the words barely audible.

"what? oh, i'm sorry, is quality time annoying?"

he pinches the bridge of his nose, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "that's not what i meant."

"that's what it sounded like."

"look, it's just… boring doing the same thing all the time. we like different things."

"yeah," you whisper, the words heavy with a sudden, sinking realization. "we do, don't we?" you shake your head, the movement small and defeated, and turn to walk past him.

"wait, where are you going?"

you shrug, unable to meet his eyes, "to go to a different thing."

[fisheito]

"makotolookinass"

the intersection of nu: carnival and free! fans that are all here because of our favorite green haired hunks (himbos?) is so funny

but it kinda makes sense given that both nu: carnival and free! are both at their core about caring about the people closest to you and prevailing internal struggles

dang , anonn, you really cut thru all the glamours of distraction

in brief contrast, i feel like a simple creature. one who was dragged into the intersection simply because i saw some dudes with Unlikely Physiques

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent random life images ~

[werewolfsmile]

feel like i can't write feel like i can't read can't watch anything can't scroll tumblr cause i've caught up on my dash a million times over what the hell else is there.....

is this what understimulation feels like???

[narcissusneverknewme]

the Earth will never be healed again until China starts producing stuff with a sufficient amount of genderfuckery again. nearly all of the most compelling stuff China has ever produced has featured a significant amount of genderfuckery. that and the gay shit. send X or whatever you fools say now

[cultivating-wildflowers]

Writers: unless the POV character can actually see an aspect of their appearance (via a mirror or because it's on a part of their body or clothing that they can see by looking down or around), they should not be describing that feature. For example, your character shouldn't be saying that their own skin has gone ashen, or that their eyes are bright, etc. What you can do to convey those things are to describe how they feel (light-headed, giddy) or have another character remark on their appearance. Or, of course, have them look in a mirror.

[screambirdscreaming]

ok this is a long fucking shot but does anyone out here know anything about. Allergies but rather than having itchy runny-nose symptoms you just feel systemically like shit. Like fatigue, nausea, vague headache, moderate-to-severe excercise intolerance, that sort of thing. But correlated to like, pollen exposure. Or just air quality in general?

The best ballpark diagnosis I have is asthma, but I've never actually had An Asthma Attack so I don't know if that's.... right. And even if it is, I can't really find good research or resources on managing systematic effects of asthma at this like... non-acute, non life-threatening severity.

Sometimes with weird medical shit like this, there's information that exists if only you can find the right keyword to search.... maybe somebody's got something?

Or even just, it'd be nice to hear if anyone elae deals with this and I'm not, like, completely insane*

*for this. other insanity unspecified.

[infizero]

light and misa's "relationship" is rlly tragic and fucked but also in an isolated state its really fucking funny. ESPECIALLY if you consider them both to be arospec like i do

[servuscallidus]

I know beating yourself up is pointless but when you make a decision even though you know exactly what the consequences are going to be, because it's habit at this point, then not beating yourself up is really hard cause the circumstances themselves are beating you up

[rancidarling]

it's probably such a good thing I didn't grow up in America because anytime I went to someone's house and they had a bb gun, I'd just be obsessed with it and trying to be subtle about how interested I was in using it and also wanting to know what it would be like to shoot someone with it 😍

[femininelookingmale]

does anyone, by any chance, know any good romance book where A falls first for B, who is a pretty reserved but overall kind and gentle person? where B slowly starts falling for A and feels a bit embarrassed about the whole thing?

[fisheito]

edmond olivine......... farm sounds edition tiny tsun obsessed with girlfriend 4x his (cup_ ) Size....

[medicinemane]

The problem with a lot of body horror for me is it's just gross without being compelling

Like yeah you had that person tear their leg open and pull muscle away from bone in a way that's very uncomfortable... but I don't care. Or a lot of Hostel style horror for me it's just kinda... yeah... grossing me out isn't some kinda win

Cause it's not that I don't like body horror, I love Dead Space for instance which... kinda the core pillar of that is body horror if we're honest

Could be a matter of that that kind of body horror is more fantastic making it easier to digest, I will advance that as a theory, but personally I kinda think that it's more that they do something actually interesting with it

Like if I wanted to I could probably see a really fucked up leg wound (and worse) in looking online about this shitty world

Can't really find dead bodies contorted into killing machines though

So I kinda feel like it's my problem with a lot of horror, of that it's horrible in a mundane way where as I'm looking for some unfathomable secret out of horror

So there's a difference between some stabbing a person in the eye cause they're just a shitty person, and doing it to try and create a replica of an alien artifact that gives unlimited energy but also drives people crazy and then turns their bodies into horrible monstrosities

One is just way more interesting to me

[iam-anordinary-human-orami]

I really want a scene like this in tsc2 where Neil seems to call Jean more often to check up on him and the floozies are perplexed "Why is Josten calling you?" "You guys close or sth?" "You still haven't told us what happened when he whisked you away" "we are worried sick Jean, how can you keep us in the dark?" And then Cat will say sth like "are you not sharing what you're talking to Josten about cause you're embarrassed?" Jeremy being a worried mother hen "is he bothering you?" And Jean keeps shutting everything down telling them not to worry, and then Laila as a joke says "is he flirting with you?"

And Jean responds with "I hope not. I don't think his boyfriend would take it well"

Everyone immediately stops what they are doing. "Im sorry, his WHAT?"

All hell breaks lose. Cat is shaking Laila "Josten is FRUITY?!", Jeremy is like "He has a boyfriend?" Laila being like "in the year that he joined the foxes and almost died in the hands of his serial killer dad, he got a boyfriend??? How???" And then Cat and Laila start asking questions, Jeremy trying to calm them down but also being curious, Jean is like "Well he's not told me explicitly, but it's obvious."

Jeremy having an epiphany "oh my god. Is it Kevin?" Cat in the background "oh please let it be Kevin" Jean says no, "Kevin is too much of a coward", the floozies are looking at each other like "oh we are definitely unpacking THAT at some point". And then they're like okay, well maybe the boyfriend is not on the team. But Jean confirms, it's a fox, i can tell u who it is-' "NO! We need to figure this one out!" "Let our gaydar do the work Jean we got things to prove!" Jean tiredly: "to who?"

So they start guessing, oh Hemmick is undeniably fruity, Jean is like "I don't even know who that is. Oh, backliner? No, not him". "Maybe it's Boyd?!" Cat being like "Escandalo! Cause he's with the captain right? Wilds?" Laila commenting "He'd be out of his mind to pass on that, and this is the educated opinion of a lesbian", Jean is like "how come u guys know all their names?" Jeremy says "they are a small team and it's hard not to keep tabs on them when they are in the news cycle every week or so"

"Guys we're losing track, keep your heads locked in! Who could be Josten's boyfriend, that tonight's pressing question!" "But there's no one else... wait, is he with the other backliner? Short blonde?" "I'm gonna be honest, I don't get queer vibes from him" "Lol can u imagine it's actually the goalkeeper twin" "what the one that went to juvie and looks like hes one step away from biting our heads off on the court? Nahh". Jean looks at an invisible camera like he's in the office.

And then something happens and they forget about it, until like the winter banquet or some shit and Cat is intently looking at Neil trying to decipher who his boyfriend could be, maybe he is in a throuple with Wilds and Boyd? Jean is like "Why are you looking at the foxes' table so intently?" "It's investigative work, don't worry about it" and then Neil comes over and takes Jean away at the open bar to talk about sth, the floozies are pretending to not be looking at them. Neil notices and he's like "I see they taken claim already." Jean responds with "It's not what u think" and they talk, Andrew probably gets bored at some point and goes to Neil, puts a single hand on his lower back and Jean being able to hear commotion in the Trojans table turns to see them acting like "normal", except their poses look rehearsed, there's drinks that have been spilled on the table and Cat is drinking from an empty glass looking at the sky.