#the covid fic

[sellasstories]

CLOSE (I)

word count: 5.7k

pairing: paige bueckers x azzi fudd

⚠️warnings⚠️

underage drinking, slightly explicit themes, light angst, swearing

prompts:

what happens when two best friends with strong, undefined feelings quarantine together (part 1: azzi)

in other words, the pazzi covid fic

“The best duo in the world is back together!” Paige shouts from the end of the Fudds’ driveway.

“Shut up! The whole neighbourhood doesn’t need to know they’re going to have to deal with you,” Azzi yells back. “And are you just going to stand there looking stupid forever?”

Paige doesn’t even bother to pout at the lighthearted insult, running over to crush Azzi in a suffocating hug. If her first thought when she’d seen Azzi standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her face had been how beautiful the other girl looked framed in the sunlight, it was only because she was delirious with excitement. This was actually like the best thing ever. She’s going to be living with her best friend. Her best friend that people always say she’s attached at the hip with, which doesn’t even make sense because they live so far apart. Well, now they really can be and Paige doesn’t know if she can be any more excited.

As her whole family helps Paige move her bags into the house, Azzi worries (too much, Paige would tell her). It’s not that she’s not excited — she really is — but she doesn’t know if she’s going to be able to handle all of Paige for this much time.

•••••

Azzi has always been the shy one, the cautious one, never one to consider herself brave. She’s organized and methodical, and has never liked change or new things. She would cry at every new activity that her parents insisted she try as a kid, basketball included. She may have been shy, but she was never one to give up, and soon it was evident that basketball was different. Azzi had found her thing, and she was happy to throw herself into seeing how far she could take it.

Trying out for the U16 national team at 14 had been the scariest thing that Azzi had ever done, but she’d barely even had time to let the nerves set in before a blonde girl a few inches taller than her had confidently walked over and introduced herself.

Taking in Paige’s relaxed stance and cocky confident tone, Azzi had instantly recognized a rival. But as they both survived cut after cut and Paige kept talking to her (no less obnoxiously than the first time), Azzi’s mind reluctantly changed. This girl, her opposite in every way except their shared passion for the sport, was drawing her in like a magnet. Paige was loud, impulsive, and outgoing, and when Azzi was with her, she felt like she could be those things too.

By the time the tournament actually started, everyone was already referring to them as ‘Paige and Azzi’, and there was no question about who they’d be rooming with. The days passed and they only grew closer, connecting in a way that Azzi never had with anyone. She swore they were becoming one person. Azzi wasn’t brave, but when she reached out and took Paige’s hand in her own as they stood with gold medals around their necks, she felt like maybe she could be.

The rest was history. They kept talking every day, went to great lengths to go to each other’s games in different states, and were told over and over how ‘special’ their connection was. Azzi didn’t get it at first. Paige was her best friend, but everyone had a best friend that they loved the way she loved hers, didn’t they?

It had taken a couple years, but eventually Azzi had figured it out. Paige wasn’t just her best friend, she was her person. There was never going to be anyone else. There was no fanfare, no announcement or confession, just quiet acceptance as a 16-year-old Azzi had sat on her bed and tried to make sense of her uncharacteristically messy thoughts neatly scrawled in a little purple notebook that she carefully kept hidden from her parents and siblings. She’d confided only in Stewie before vowing to never tell anyone else.

Just this once, Azzi had been glad that she wasn’t brave like Paige. She wasn’t ready to change everything, especially when she already knew what Paige’s answer would probably be. She was almost positive that her best friend loved her, but she was also equally sure that it was only platonically. And that was usually fine. Azzi would take what she could get.

Azzi was disciplined, and she was able to keep up their routine, never acting in a way that would alert Paige. She knew their dynamic, and she could act accordingly. Well, mostly. It was so much easier when they were apart and Paige was just some pixels on a screen, just her goofy best friend.

When they’re together, Azzi has to exercise nearly all of her self-discipline. Because when she’s in the same room as Paige, she can’t ignore the way that her eyes shine and her smile is only ever kind. She can’t ignore the sharp lines of Paige’s body, from her cheeks to her collarbones to other places that Azzi is definitely not supposed to be looking at. And she especially can’t ignore how physical Paige is; touching, brushing, and grabbing without a care in the world because she’s just so full of love and has to get it out somehow.

•••••

So Azzi is worried. Not that she’ll get sick of Paige, but that she’ll ruin everything or somehow fall more in love, and she doesn’t even know which would be worse.

“AZZI!” Jon’s loud voice snaps her out of her thoughts.

She shakes her head. “What did you say?”

“I said thanks a lot for helping us with Paige’s stuff,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes as he goes inside.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” she calls to his back. How long has she been standing here? Shaking her head again, Azzi wanders into the kitchen where she finds her best friend talking to her parents. Paige is wearing a tank top. It looks like she’s put on some muscle since the last time Azzi saw her. Azzi stares at the ceiling. She’s fine. This is going to be fine.

•••••

Paige has a bad habit of setting herself up for disappointment. Her expectations for everything are through the roof, and while she figures the lofty ones she placed on herself are the reason that she was able to commit to UConn, she has to admit that it hasn’t helped her much in other areas of her life. School dances, birthday parties, even vacations, are never as fun as she makes them out to be in her head. But this ‘vacation’ (her parents told her not to call it that but she, of course, didn’t listen) is everything that she was hoping it would be.

Sure, it’s not like they’ve actually done anything crazy (unless you count shaving Azzi’s brothers’ heads, which she doesn’t), but anything that she gets to do with Azzi is going to live up to her expectations. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been missing out on by having a best friend that she couldn’t see every day. No matter what they’ve been up to, Paige still isn’t over Azzi being right next to her all. the. time. Paige thinks she could stare at the dark-haired girl forever. She thinks about how much she’s missed, how many parts of Azzi she didn’t know about before.

She never realized how much she loves the way Azzi talks. Sometimes, she’ll argue with her just to experience the changes in her voice and expressions. Paige wants to memorize them. She loves watching Azzi with her brothers, so similar yet so different to how she is with Drew. Paige thinks that Azzi will be a great mom someday.

She loves the way Azzi feels, too. Even though she’s been living with the younger girl for several weeks now, Paige always wants to be as close to her as possible. If there was ever any doubt that her love language was touch, it’s definitely been erased now. Paige thinks that she’d crawl into Azzi’s skin if she could. Obviously that’s not possible, but in this world where Azzi is one of the few people that Paige is allowed to get close to, she’s sure going to try.

The first week of her stay, she insists on her and Azzi picking some TV series to watch before bed, and if that results in them falling asleep where they are, she’s totally going to pretend that it wasn’t her plan all along. At first, it’s them on the couch in the living room with some or all of Azzi’s family, but the tradition quickly evolves to just the two of them settling into Azzi’s bed after the fifth night of them waking up sore from sleeping awkwardly on the couch.

Paige wouldn’t admit it, but she likes this second arrangement better, and not just because Azzi’s bed is more a comfortable place to sleep. She’s never had a problem sharing before, but Paige likes that this environment lets her have Azzi all to herself. Sure, anyone could still come in and watch with them, but Azzi seems to have some unwritten rule with her family about staying out of her space, and Paige can’t help but feel the urge to gloat that Azzi so readily lets her in.

And there’s another thing too, one that Paige doesn’t really understand. Even though Azzi’s bed is much bigger than the couch, they always seem to end up a lot closer than they were in the living room. Not physically closer (Paige had definitely fallen asleep on the couch sprawled on top of her best friend), but closer in a way that Paige realizes she’s glad the rest of the household doesn’t see. It’s not like the arms looped around waists and necks or the legs that always end up intertwined are particularly improper, but that doesn’t stop Paige from fighting the urge to pull away every time she hears a sound in the hallway.

She never says anything to Azzi, though, simply hoping the younger girl doesn’t notice, and their ritual of shared time cements itself as almost a nightly activity. Sometimes she gets sent back to her room by a tired Tim complaining about them being too loud or saying that they need some time apart, but they’re always back together the next night.

Of all the traditions established during their time together, this one is by far Paige’s favourite. She loves all the little pieces of Azzi that she gets to collect, but she holds this one just a bit closer to her heart than the others.

•••••

Paige knows she can never be bored of Azzi, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be bored with Azzi. Katie and Tim have gotten tired of filming TikToks for them, they’ve stopped keeping a record of who wins games of 21 and HORSE (which they play as UCONN), and Paige swears they’ve tried every quarantine activity.

They even managed to convince Azzi’s parents to let them climb onto her roof, which is where they are now. Azzi appears to be relatively peaceful laying on her back with her eyes closed, but Paige is sitting up and her fingers are tapping against the shingles as she looks to the next possible activity.

She sighs loudly. “What are we gonna do for the next month? Oh god, what if this lasts a year?”

“We’re literally on the roof,” Azzi turns her head towards the blonde. “Can we appreciate the fact that we even got permission for this for a second?”

“For a second, sure. But I’m so bored.” Paige gestures around them. “What is there to do here? We can only play so much one on one. Don’t you miss basketball, like real five on five… with contact and crowds?”

“Yeah, I do. I miss it as much as you do, P, but you know we can’t.” Azzi glances over to see if the other girl is even listening. “For now, you’re stuck with me and the hoop in my driveway.”

Paige groans as she flops onto her back. “I just don’t know how much more of it I can take!”

“I’m going to push you off this roof if you don’t chill out,” Azzi retorts. “You wanna get away from me that bad, huh?”

Paige barely even entertains the joke. “I literally came here to not have to get away from you- that doesn’t mean I won’t jump off and say you pushed me, though,” she sticks her tongue out at her best friend. “I wanna get away from here, with you, and go do something. At this point, it doesn’t even have to be basketball!”

Azzi is mostly focused on ignoring what the casual admission of Paige’s desire to be with her (but not like that, she chides herself) is doing to her heart, but she also wants to be a helpful friend. She pushes down her stupid feelings and hopes that Paige didn’t notice any changes in her expression.

“We’ll just have to find a new thing to do in the meantime.” Her face brightens. “We just thought of the roof thing today! There has to be something else.” A hush falls over the pair as they wrack their brains. At least Azzi’s inadvertent challenge is technically something to do.

“I know! Az, have you ever been drunk before?” Paige’s excited voice shatters the silence, startling Azzi, who sits up abruptly and lurches forward before catching herself.

“Jesus, P, I could’ve fallen!” Azzi takes a few deep breaths as she waits for her heart rate to return to normal.

Leaning back to make herself feel safer, she finally dignifies Paige (who looks way less apologetic than she should, in Azzi’s opinion) with an answer. “No, when would I have? You know I don’t really go to parties, and my parents would kill me anyway.”

“I’m gonna ignore that last part, because that’s what I think we should do,” seeing Azzi’s unimpressed expression, Paige raises her arms in surrender. “Hear me out! It’ll be funny, and it’s something new as well…”

“…and?” Azzi smirks. She knows there has to be something else.

Paige looks up at the sky. “And I’m going to college really soon and I don’t know if I’m ready for all that.”

“You’re so dumb sometimes. You don’t have to train for that, Paige,” Azzi laughs. “You’re going to be totally fine, I promise. So just to be clear, you’re suggesting either getting into a liquor store and somehow managing to buy something or… what? Stealing from my parents?”

“I guess?” Paige rolls her eyes, prior embarrassment forgotten. “You know what? Fuck you, it was just an idea.” She shoves the younger girl lightly.

“Paige Madison. What did I say about the roof?”

“My bad, my bad.”

They lapse into silence again. Finally, Azzi speaks up. “All I’m saying is that this idea would probably involve lots of lying and us getting in huge trouble. I just want you to know that.”

“Shut up,” Paige groans. “I already said we didn’t have to.”

“And I’m saying we should!”

Paige figures Azzi is still messing with her. She raises an eyebrow.

“For the record,” Azzi continues as if nothing’s happened, “I think stealing from my parents is the easier option, but we can do whatever you want.”

Paige doesn’t like how much fun the younger girl seems to be having with this. She’d call it off if she wasn’t already getting excited at the prospect. “Since you’re so smart, why don’t you figure all that out? Bring everything to me and I’ll show you how to make drinks.”

Azzi sticks her tongue out. “You say that like it’s hard.” She lies down, smiling proudly.

Paige takes a minute to admire the peaceful look on Azzi’s face, thankful that her best friend’s eyes are closed. Once she tears her eyes away, she resumes her position on her back as well. A gentle breeze passes over the girls and they both shift closer together until their sides touch.

As the sun sets in front of them, no words need to be exchanged because Azzi just knows to lift her head up so Paige’s arm can slide smoothly under it. They bask in the calmness around them, and for once Paige doesn’t feel completely at odds with it.

Azzi turns into Paige’s body even more. “Look at the stars,” she whispers in awe.

Paige smiles softly, her own shining eyes surely mirroring Azzi’s. “Have you never seen them before?”

“Never from up here. You can see the whole sky, it’s really beautiful.”

So are you, Paige’s brain supplies unhelpfully. She blinks rapidly, not totally sure where that came from. Instead, she says, “I bet we can find all the constellations.”

“I don’t think I know too many,” Azzi admits. “I just like to watch for shooting stars.”

“Don’t worry, I happen to know them all,” Paige brags.

At first, Azzi believes her, but as the names and patterns get more ridiculous, it’s clear that Paige has no idea what she’s talking about. Catching onto the game, Azzi is quick to make up some of her own. It soon devolves into a contest of trying to make the other laugh, and for once Azzi doesn’t pout when Paige is the clear winner.

Azzi looks at Paige at the same time as the blonde reaches an arm out towards her. Paige’s hand trails down Azzi’s forearm and side as it comes to clasp hers. Looking down at their interlocked hands, Azzi shivers, and she knows it’s not from the breeze.

Suddenly, she’s nervous to look up, not sure if she’ll be able to survive looking into the other girl’s eyes right now. Somehow, Paige has remained silent through all of this. Azzi drags her own eyes up and is still unprepared for how her best friend can undo her with a single look.

Paige is looking at her like she’s the only thing in the world. Azzi leans forward subconsciously as she’s pulled in by the intensity of Paige’s gaze. She sees the whole sky of stars reflected back at her, even a shooting star-

“Woah,” Paige breathes. Her eyes shift away and it breaks whatever spell Azzi had been under. She mentally kicks herself. She’d been seconds away from doing something truly stupid and she knows it. “Az, I think that was a shooting star.”

“Then you have to make a wish,” Azzi insists.

“You should too.”

“That’s not how it works,” Azzi giggles.

Paige frowns. “Can I give you my wish then?” Seeing the shake of Azzi’s head, the blonde has an idea. “Then I wish for us both to see another shooting star tonight.”

“Thank you,” Azzi whispers. “Even though you’re not supposed to tell me what you wished for,” she can’t resist adding.

“I want you to know,” Paige shrugs.

Azzi has scarcely opened her mouth to reply when she sees it. Clear as day, a bright streak right in front of her eyes. She shakes Paige’s shoulders urgently and points to the sky behind her best friend. “Look, look, your wish came true! It’s a shooting star!”

Paige seems unfazed as she follows the line of Azzi’s finger. “Good. I’m not telling you what I wish for this time, though.”

“Good, because that’s how it’s supposed to work,” Azzi reminds her.

They stare at the spot where the shooting star disappeared long after it fades into the night sky. Closing her eyes, Azzi doesn’t even have to think about her wish. If she’d known that right beside her, Paige was wishing for them to be this close forever, she would’ve been ecstatic.

If Azzi claiming a need to not fall off the roof is clearly just an excuse to wrap her body tightly around Paige’s, the older girl isn’t complaining. Especially when holding Azzi in her arms that night is making her feel more grounded than she has in a long time.

•••••

They decide to get drunk the next night. It’s difficult to act normal all day but they manage, finally getting to an acceptable hour to excuse themselves to go to bed.

Tim should’ve known something is up when Paige hardly puts up a fight after being told to go to her own room, but he’s tired and not about to complain about the normally difficult job being less so.

After that, it really is as easy as Azzi said it would be. She sets a timer for thirty minutes and paces her room as she watches it tick down. After completing a mental checklist of what she’s grabbing, she decides to change into a crop top and nicer shorts. Already feeling ridiculous, she suppresses the urge to fix her hair, pushes down the nervous energy, and goes back to pacing.

When she finally tiptoes into her dark kitchen, the whole house is silent. There’s never been an effort to hide the alcohol because Azzi’s never given her parents a reason to, and she’s thankful for that right now. She makes it to Paige’s room without incident and knocks as softly as she can.

The door opens almost immediately and Azzi feels slightly better when she realizes that Paige must’ve been pacing her room as well. The blonde leans on the doorframe as she looks Azzi up and down.

“Nice outfit,” there’s mirth in Paige’s tone, but no malice, and a part of Azzi wonders if she means it. What Azzi doesn’t know is that Paige considered doing the exact same thing but talked herself out of it, a fact that she will very much be keeping to herself.

“Shut up,” The younger girl whines before shoving her way into Paige’s room. She looks over her shoulder. “And, if I remember correctly, you have some drinks to make.”

Paige surveys the contents of Azzi’s raid. “Yeah, gimme a second.” In Paige’s defense, she doesn’t have a lot to work with. But she did also totally lie when she told Azzi she knew how. She doesn’t really know why, it’s not like Azzi would’ve cared or anything.

Maybe this should warrant further investigation, but Paige has put her pride on the line and nothing is more important right now than defending it. With almost laughably fake confidence, the blonde fills two cups with a mixture of vodka, Sprite, and tonic water. She hands one to Azzi, who gives her an incredulous look.

“You’re so full of shit. Are you even supposed to mix all this together?” The dark-haired girl sniffs the drink and wrinkles her nose.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Just trust me. Drink on three?”

“Fine.” Azzi takes a deep breath.

They touch their cups and Paige counts to three. When the drink hits the back of her throat, she attempts to save face by masking the sudden sensation that her mouth is on fire. Azzi has no such reservations.

“What the fuck is this?” She splutters. “That’s like, way too strong.”

“Don’t look at me,” Paige is quick to defend herself. “I didn’t have anything to measure with, and it’s not like it’s supposed to taste that good anyway.”

They continue to bicker back and forth as they figure out what they want to do. Azzi bans Paige from making any more drinks, and they agree to just drink from the bottle and have a cup of Sprite to use as a chaser. It’s also Azzi’s idea to sit on the floor with their backs against Paige’s bed, facing away from her bedroom door. It probably wouldn’t do much to prevent them from getting caught, but it does make them both feel a little better.

It’s quickly discovered that ‘Truth or Drink’ isn’t the best game for them. They already know everything about each other, and neither of them can seem to think of anything that the other isn’t willing to share.

Well, Azzi can think of one thing. She doesn’t want to bring it up because she definitely has more to hide, but as they pass the bottle back and forth and her mind starts to get hazy, her jealousy curiosity gets the best of her.

“Sooo, Paigey, wanna tell me about your crush?” Azzi can hardly get the question out before she dissolves into giggles.

Paige is genuinely confused. “My what?”

Azzi rolls her eyes. “Remember the Overtime video you did, the one I was literally in?”

“I forgot about that question, not gonna lie,” Paige shrugs. “It’s not like it’s true, anyway. That’s just what I say when people ask.” She leans her head back and puts an arm around Azzi’s shoulders.

Azzi’s not one to give up easily. “You must have one, though.”

Paige pushes the side of Azzi’s head into her chest. “Who says I do?” This doesn’t seem to deter her.

“Me,” Azzi’s voice is muffled as she continues. “If you didn’t, you would’ve just said no one. No need to have a cover unless saying you didn’t would’ve been an obvious lie,” the younger girl reasons, smiling triumphantly. “So I’m asking again, who is it?”

Paige looks away. “No one,” she mumbles, cheeks burning.

Azzi looks up at her with a shit-eating grin. She’s vaguely aware of how quickly this could turn on her, but she’s having too much fun to care. “Aww, are you embarrassed?”

Paige doesn’t answer, taking a deep breath before bringing the bottle to her lips. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she tries to hide her expression of disgust at the strong taste. “But you’re just so perfect, right? The Azzi Fudd, best basketball player in the world, doesn’t have time for silly things like crushes, does she?”

Azzi would be lying if she said that she had any idea what was going to come out of her mouth. “I never said that.” She cringes inwardly at herself. Paige had literally given her an out and she hadn’t taken it.

“So who’s the lucky guy?” Paige’s tone is playful, but Azzi’s entire world has suddenly narrowed in on that one simple sentence. Her mind is floundering, going too fast and too slow at once, and the urge to finally share her secret is almost overwhelming. Briefly, she imagines how freeing it would be to say it out loud. But she’s kept it together this long, and Paige Bueckers is not going to break her, even if it seems like she’s getting closer every day.

Azzi has to say something, and she can feel the words ready to spill out like a rising tide. As Paige’s smirk grows at what she perceives to be Azzi’s own embarrassment, the younger girl realizes that she’s going to have to give something up.

And so, ever the analyst, ever the planner, Azzi trades one truth for another. Even if it feels like the safer option in her head, she freezes as the words fall from her lips, eyes fixed apprehensively on Paige’s face.

“I never said it was a guy.”

Paige’s mouth opens and closes, and Azzi is paralyzed. She thinks it might be the alcohol, but her mind is completely blank and she’s suddenly struggling to breathe. Is this what drowning feels like? There’s only one way to interpret what she said, and she can’t take it back now.

“Sorry, are you-” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose. “That’s cool, congratulations?” She smiles ruefully. “I’m sorry, Az, I promise I’d be handling this better sober.”

It’s Azzi’s turn to smile cautiously. “You wouldn’t have gotten this out of me sober,” she admits, tipping her head back to rest against the side of the bed.

Paige finally collects her thoughts. “So, are you like, a lesbian then?” She asks, ignoring Azzi’s most recent statement. This is the first time her best friend has admitted any romantic interest, and she wonders if that might be why.

“It’s not your turn to ask questions,” the dark-haired girl groans. “But no, I don’t think so. I haven’t thought about it too much honestly, but I think I’m probably bi.”

Paige nods slowly. They sit in silence for a few minutes, Azzi’s heart beating out of her chest as she waits for her friend’s judgment.

“This is gonna sound so dumb now,” Paige blurts out suddenly. “I think I might be, too. That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you who my crush was. It was a girl at my school, her name is Imani.”

The words don’t register all at once. Azzi first experiences relief — Paige likes girls too, this won’t make anything weird, then hope — Paige likes girls, maybe there’s a chance?, which quickly turns to disappointment — Paige likes another girl. She hardly feels the tears welling up as not me not me not me echoes unchecked in her mind.

But Paige sees them, and soon she’s pulling Azzi against her chest, fully this time, opening her legs so that Azzi can sit in between them. “That was really brave of you, you know that, right?” She whispers.

The tenderness in the blonde’s voice is the final straw before the tears are spilling down Azzi’s cheeks. “That’s supposed to be your thing,” she retorts with a watery smile. Paige lets out a soft laugh, and Azzi joins her, not completely sure if she’s laughing or crying as the tears continue to pour out.

If Paige’s shirt gets a little wet, she doesn’t comment on it. And Azzi falls just a little deeper, lacking both the mental and physical strength to stop herself. She might be a rational person, but just this once she lets herself indulge in a small feeling of superiority because right now she’s in Paige’s arms and this Imani girl isn’t.

They must’ve fallen asleep there because Azzi has only a dim memory of gentle but firm hands urging her to get up onto the bed before slipping warm fabric over her head.

•••••

Azzi wakes up in what has to be the middle of the night. She must still be drunk because there’s a light haze over her vision. Her surroundings register as she sits up. How did she get back in her room, and where is Paige?

She jumps a little when she sees a figure sitting on the floor by her bed, calming down as she recognizes the familiar silhouette.

“Paige? What’s going on?” She calls out.

Paige turns to look at her over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. “Nothing, just looking at the moon. It reminds me of you, you know?” She turns back, offering no further explanation.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Azzi blinks heavily. “Please just come lie down, it’s so late.”

Azzi has half a mind to ask Paige to close her blinds (she certainly remembers closing them, but doesn’t dwell on it), but when she stops to admire her best friend in the pale glow of the moonlight, she decides she might not mind them being left open.

Paige is sitting on the bed now. She places a hand on Azzi’s wrist. “You’re hot, lie on me above the covers.”

Azzi hadn’t given it a single thought beforehand, but now that Paige has pointed it out, she definitely is feeling warm. The blonde really does seem to know her better than she knows herself.

Paige lies down and Azzi shifts so that her back is on Paige’s chest. Azzi, getting hotter by the second, bends up one short-clad leg. Soon, Paige is tracing it lightly from knee to thigh. Her nails graze the bare skin, sending shivers across Azzi’s whole body.

Paige lets a hand creep under Azzi’s shirt to rest on her stomach. Azzi’s legs fall open and the movement causes the hand on her stomach to slide just under her waistband. Paige doesn’t pull away. Azzi doesn’t tell her to. Azzi is burning up. She wonders if Paige is too.

Azzi grits her teeth and tries to calm the fire in the pit of her stomach and the war being waged in her head. Please just fucking touch me.

She shifts her hips again, marginally enough to still be played off, but also enough for Paige’s hand to shift farther down than is acceptable, even for them. Paige’s fingers curl slightly on instinct and Azzi almost moans.

“Is there something you want from me?” Paige asks cautiously, no hint of teasing in her words.

Azzi looks up at the blonde desperately.

“More,” she breathes, biting her lip. Paige’s wide eyes don’t leave hers as the hand on her stomach gets tantalizingly closer to where she needs it-

•••••

Azzi’s eyes snap open. She’s lying on her back, like she was in the dream, and Paige is there too, but the blonde is fast asleep, her face pressed into a pillow. Shaking her head slightly, Azzi stares up at the ceiling. She’s in Paige’s room, where she fell asleep, apparently wearing one of her best friend’s hoodies.

Grimacing, Azzi resolves to never drink again. Her mouth is dry, her head is pounding, and she feels like she might actually explode. She’s already stressing about dealing with the consequences of the previous night, and she’s certainly not willing to process her dream on top of all of that.

She looks down at the way Paige is draped across her body, a hand resting possessively protectively over Azzi’s waist. It tightens at the first sign of movement, leaving Azzi no choice but to stay right where she is. She thinks she could get used to this feeling of belonging.

Azzi reminds herself why she can never say anything, what she would lose if she did. She knows that Paige loves her — though last night made it explicitly clear that it’s not like that — and she would never risk that love or that trust. Sighing, Azzi tries to get comfortable without waking Paige, making sure to keep her legs firmly squeezed together. She’s fine. This is fine. This is enough.

[wheneverfeasible]

Bullshit (part 1/3)

Now on ao3

He should probably get a new car.

He didn’t want to. He loved his car, but it wasn’t really cool, was it? Preppy cool, maybe, but not my-boyfriend-is-in-a-metal-band cool. It had certainly seen better days too.

He’d used to reprimand the kids whenever they trailed in dirt and food crumbs or spilled their milkshakes or whatever, but after he stopped doing the same to Eddie, he couldn’t really do it to them either. Besides, he didn’t want to be a stick in the mud.

It was why he’d thrown out all his Wham! and Tears for Fears cassettes, threw out anything that wasn’t Judas Priest or Iron Maiden or whatever else Eddie liked. It was why he boxed away all his brightly colored polos and now just wore the band tees that Eddie let him borrow, why he’d bought some of his own, as well as skinnier dark jeans that he knew Eddie liked the look of his ass in. He even got some bracelets like Eddie’s, and now he actually looked the part of Eddie’s boyfriend and not so much like a sore thumb when he went to all of Eddie’s shows.

The only thing he needed to change, besides his car, was his hair. He’d been putting it off the longest. He loved his car, but he loved his hair more. He didn’t make it quite as styled nowadays, but it was the last part of him that spoke of his former personality. Because he had to change, didn’t he? He knew what happened when you didn’t make your partner happy. Knew what happened when your love was bullshit and he never wanted Eddie to find him unworthy.

So he liked the things Eddie liked now, he dressed the way Eddie dressed, and he did what Eddie did. If he made Eddie happy, if he didn’t make Eddie do anything he didn’t want to do, then Eddie wouldn’t find fault in Steve. It was simple as that. He knew better now. Because Nancy had broke his heart, but losing Eddie? It would break his soul.

So he needed a new car. Maybe a van like Eddie’s, or would that be too much? A BMW was hardly metal, after all. He needed something cooler. And then…then he would change his hair.

He would need to figure out what Eddie thought was cool. Needed to figure out what Eddie liked. Should he buzz it? Should he grow it out? He didn’t know. Eddie had never brought up hair before. He didn’t know what Eddie would prefer. Maybe he could ask Jeff. He’d known Eddie the longest, after all.

Maybe he should dye it. That would look cool, right?

The others had noticed, of course. They’d commented on his new attire, the fact that he didn’t listen to his favorite music anymore, that he only seemed to be doing what Eddie wanted to do nowadays. But Eddie just looked happy whenever Steve agreed to whatever movie Eddie wanted to watch, or what to have for dinner, or what to do on Steve’s days off. That was the important part: making Eddie happy.

So Steve just brushed off their concerns, explained it away as saying that he was growing up and his interests were growing. He even played stupid Dungeons and Dragons now, always making certain he got the names correct, always doing his best to play it how Eddie would want him to play it, even if it always gave him a headache afterwards with all the numbers and words and strategizing.

He always put Eddie’s needs first, be it physically, emotionally, or even just recreationally. If Steve did that, if he was good enough, if he became exactly what his partner wanted, maybe he wouldn’t lose this. Wouldn’t lose Eddie.

Maybe, if Steve made his love good enough, Eddie wouldn’t ever say it was bullshit.

-

Now with a part two

[trek-tracks]

Do you ever think about how Kirk had a "best friend" on the ship before Bones in Gary Mitchell, a man who:

a) deviously manipulates him into heartbreak for Mitchell's benefit,

b) shames him for not being "fun" enough when he's in a position of power,

c) openly insults intelligent and powerful women,

d) treats everyone cruelly as soon as he gets power and tries to seize everything for himself,

e) finds it fascinating that he can stop a person's heart for fun, and

f) tries to murder Kirk instead of admitting that he's a danger to the universe,

and then chooses to replace him with Bones, a man who:

a) tries to save Kirk from heartbreak at every opportunity,

b) gets him to smile and relax by being genuinely interested in how he's doing and telling him that he's great and respected just as he is,

c) openly toasts intelligent and powerful women,

d) treats everyone kindly as soon as he gets power and tries to use it to help as many people as he can,

e) cries about how people suffered when medical treatments were less advanced, and

f) says, "Jim, I can't destroy life, even if it's to save my own. I can't."

because I do

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

This has most definitely been said before, but we were robbed of the core four quarantining on-screen together at Buck’s place. ROBBED I say

[myokk]

my favorite bookworm

[beanarie]

Relationship: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard

Characters: Denny Wilson, Christopher Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Harry Grant (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard, May Grant (9-1-1 TV), Jee-Yun Buckley Han, Mara Driskell, Howie "Chimney" Han

Additional Tags:

Fix-It, Episode Fix-It: s08e06 Confessions (9-1-1 TV), Fluff, Light Angst, Getting Back Together

Language: English

Stats:

Published: 2025-01-01 Words: Chapters: 1/1

"It's decidedly bizarre," Tommy reflects, to no one in particular, "to feel parent-trapped when I've never parented anyone."

ok ao3 is a liar i posted this with more than two hours to go but anyway. go me. 💪

[lyntarts]

*‘Like Him’ starts playing in the distance*

Based on a scene from @purplepeptobismol’s bunny fanfic ‘I Will Make of You’ in AO3!!!! It’s so freaking good you guys. Like, I deadass had to take a minute to recollect my thoughts after reading the drafts. I RECOMMEND EVERYONE TO READ IT!! 🫶🫶 Hooray for sci-fi time travel fics!!!!!! WOOHOO!!!

I know Cooper technically didn’t see the fire from the outside, but let’s just pretend for dramatic effect!

Previous // Next

[yukipri]

lmao of course now i try to update fic, and AO3 is down😂💀

Override chapter finally done with editing, it'll go up whenever the site's back🙃

AO3's status:

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?

[anonwyvern]

I’ve seen posts from over the years lamenting on the fact that our favorite seven-foot-tall ghoul has very little backstory, but you know, it’s probably one of my favorite things about him.

Sure, I totally get why some want to have the whole nine yards of his past (particularly with his contract) but I think it’s super fun to instill your own thoughts and theories because there’s essentially nothing there. He has just enough to build on, and I think it’s fascinating to see everybody else’s takes on his past and the utter confusing contradictions of his whole brainwashed contract definitely-not-a-slave don’t look a gift ghoul in the mouth sort of aspect. I’m pretty sure there was a post floating around at one point where even his creator had said he kept it open and vague for somewhat of that reason, and I personally think that’s cool af.

[wangxianficrecs]

looking through a window by glitteringmoonlight

looking through a window

by glitteringmoonlight (@glitteringmoonlight)

T, 5k, Wangxian

Summary: Everything about Professor Lan, from the way he speaks, thoughtful and poignant and never loud— like he was saying I will not raise my voice. If you want to learn, pay attention. It was one hell of a power move, in Hao Mei’s opinion— to the way he dresses, to the way even his gestures have a subtle elegance to them, scream that he is as meticulous as they come. Which is why it comes as such a shock to Hao Mei when someone in booty shorts appears in the background of Professor Lan’s video. In which Professor Lan's students try to figure out exactly who that person who appears in his video is Kay's comments: Despite this taking place during ... THE PANDEMIC ... it didn't cause feelings of horror in me and I could really appreciate how soft this was. I really enjoyed the POV outsider on Wangxian and the perspective of the students trying to figure out who their professor's hot roommate was. I wish my online classes had been this fun during ... THE PANDEMIC ... but alas, I already knew who my professor was dating. Excerpt: The class had progressed past the halfway point with no incidents— not even one person accidentally unmuting themselves and allowing their ambient environment noises to interrupt Professor Lan’s lectures until they either figured it out themselves or Professor Lan pointed it out. That all changed, however, when someone walked into Professor Lan’s background. Hao Mei has to blink and take a few seconds to register that there is a person in Professor Lan’s background, a very tall person dressed in black booty shorts— very tight booty shorts at that— and a bright red tank top— the exact opposite of the neutral, faded colour palette Professor Lan favours— hair pulled up in a messy bun, and one fairly muscular arm absolutely covered in tattoos. The very antithesis of Professor Lan’s entire being. The person walks past Professor Lan, not even looking in the direction of his laptop, and grabs a book from his bookshelf before leaving, not making a single sound in all that time. Professor Lan also makes no acknowledgement of the fact that another person had just walked into his room and grabbed one of his belongings and had left without saying a word. Hao Mei wasn’t sure she hadn’t imagined the person.

pov outsider on lan wangji/wei wuxian, modern setting, modern no powers, college/university, professor lan wangji, married lan wangji/wei wuxian, soft lan wangji/wei wuxian, fluff and humor, covid-19 pandemic, covid-19 lockdown, online classes

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[sellasstories]

CLOSE (III)

word count: 6.0k

pairing: paige bueckers x azzi fudd

⚠️warnings⚠️

implied smut, angst, mentions of a panic attack, swearing

prompts:

what happens when two best friends with strong, undefined feelings quarantine together (part 3: pazzi)

in other words, the pazzi covid fic

“We haven’t done anything fun in a while,” Azzi remarks one night while she and Paige are getting ready for bed in her room.

“Huh, you’re right. What were you thinking?” Paige asks disinterestedly as she climbs under the covers.

“Oh, you know,” Azzi makes eye contact with the blonde as she steps out of her shorts. “I have a few ideas.”

Paige almost chokes on her saliva. “Like what?” she asks, pretending like she’s not blushing furiously.

“Like going to the park,” Azzi rolls her eyes and Paige notices for the first time that she’s put on jean shorts instead of pyjamas.

“But why? We go like every day,” the older girl retorts.

“Because we should go right now. Alone, without my annoying ass brothers. Plus, I’ve never been at night, maybe it’s better.” Azzi’s logic might be slightly questionable, but Paige is already standing up.

“Okay, I’m down. Let me go get changed.”

Azzi watches her best friend leave, marvelling at how easy it was to convince her. Obviously, Paige was going to agree because she’s always game for an adventure, but Azzi was fully expecting the blonde’s usual stubbornness that came up whenever the younger girl suggested anything.

Come to think of it, Paige has been quicker to agree recently. Azzi wouldn’t necessarily bet money on it, but she’s pretty sure it started around the time that she started flirting with Paige. Really, she doesn’t mind (if anything, it’s made her life easier), but she’s starting to worry that it’s actually affecting Paige in a profound way. Azzi would have to be blind and probably stupid to not pick up on the intensity of her best friend’s reactions, but that doesn’t mean she’s able to tell if they’re due to Paige being flustered or uncomfortable. The problem is that now that she’s started, she can’t seem to stop.

Technically, nothing’s happened, but Paige is definitely looking at Azzi differently, and the ambiguity of the older girl’s responses prevents Azzi from having full confidence in her own actions. She should be better than this — she knows she’s better than this — but there’s something undeniably addicting about allowing her true feelings to be put out in the open, even only slightly.

It’s with all this in mind that Azzi finishes getting dressed, electing to curl her eyelashes and put on lip gloss for the first time in months. Already feeling antsy, she sits on her bed, tapping her fingers on her thighs as she waits for Paige. Azzi soon opens Snapchat out of boredom and is pleasantly surprised at what she sees in the camera. Her cropped tank top showcases both her abs and cleavage (both very deliberate decisions on her part), and — she’s not sure if it’s the makeup or the adrenaline — she looks confident, maybe even… seductive?

Smirking to herself, Azzi reclines onto an elbow and takes a photo from high enough to showcase all of her accessories. She barely looks at it before captioning it, ‘I’m ready ;) waiting for you’ and sending it to Paige.

Paige, face already heating up as she opens it, is so focused on saving it that she forgets to respond. Frantically getting ready, she almost slams her bedroom door shut in her haste to see her best friend up close.

Azzi hasn’t moved for her bed, nor has the smirk left her face. “Photo so good it left you speechless?” She notices a smudge of mascara on Paige’s eyelid and her smile gets wider. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one putting effort into her appearance tonight.

Paige’s heartbeat is going crazy, and it’s definitely not from her sprinting to her best friend’s room. “More like I didn’t want you pestering me to get ready faster,” she makes herself roll her eyes.

Azzi stands up and stretches, making her shirt ride up even higher. “That’s why you saved it, right?”

Paige looks at her shoes. “Accident?” She doesn’t even sound convincing to herself. “Anyways, shouldn’t you grab a hoodie or something before we head out?”

“It’s summer, I’ll be fine,” Azzi reassures the blonde. “Besides,” she grabs the front of Paige’s hoodie, “I can always wear yours if it comes to that.”

“Let’s just go,” Paige groans. She doesn’t bother denying Azzi’s claim because they both know it’s true.

•••••

“Fuck, I think we forgot the ball.”

“I thought you were bringing it!”

“It’s fine, we can do other stuff,” Azzi shrugs. “Playing when it’s this dark is probably dangerous anyway.”

“Always so practical, Az,” Paige says sarcastically. She easily avoids the younger girl’s attempt to smack the back of her head.

“Whatever, race you to the swings!” Azzi’s already running.

Paige really should win — she’s in sneakers compared to Azzi’s slides — but when the dark-haired girl reaches the play structure first, the smile on her face makes Paige feel like a winner, too.

The girls swing in silence for a few minutes before Paige has to speak. “You know what swings are for right?”

Azzi looks at her quizzically. “No? Swinging, I guess?”

“When I was a kid, everyone would go on the swings to tell secrets. We literally called them ‘Secret Swings’!” A look of betrayal crosses Paige’s face as her best friend’s confusion intensifies. “Wait, did you actually not do that?”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Azzi says. “Must be a Minnesota thing… or you’re full of shit.”

“How could you say that,” Paige pouts. “It was like, my whole childhood.”

“I’m just saying, you’re kinda obsessed with learning my secrets lately,” Azzi teases her.

“Am not,” Paige retorts. “I just wanna learn more about you because you’re my best friend,” she says in a high-pitched voice.

“You’re so stupid,” Azzi can’t hide her smile at Paige’s antics. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t actually have any deep dark secrets. The closest thing was-” she pauses, not sure if she’s comfortable saying it yet, “-what I told you when we were drunk. And that’s out of the bag now, so you officially know everything about me.”

Paige isn’t satisfied with her best friend’s answer. “Fine. If you’re gonna be boring, I’ll tell you a secret,” she looks at Azzi, waiting for her to make eye contact before continuing solemnly, “I really like you.” Seeing Azzi’s raised eyebrow, her eyes widen as she’s quick to add, “as a friend, I mean!”

Azzi clasps a hand to her heart, choosing not to comment on Paige’s darkening cheeks. “While I’m touched, I may have already known that,” she says sarcastically. Even though they’re alone at the park, she lowers her voice to a whisper. “You coming to live with me kinda gave it away.”

“I don’t like this game anymore,” Paige jumps off the swing and dramatically falls to the ground.

Giggling, Azzi follows her lead but stays upright, offering the blonde a hand. Paige allows herself to be pulled to her feet, confused when Azzi doesn’t drop her hands.

“Can I tell you a secret, P?” She leans to whisper in Paige’s ear. “I really like you, too.”

It speaks to how much has changed that Azzi feels comfortable not adding the ‘as a friend’ distinction like Paige did, content to drop her hands and run off in search of their next activity. Paige picks up on her wording, of course, and she can do nothing but stand there speechless as Azzi’s silhouette disappears into the darkness.

Azzi’s prior worries about the dangers of playing in the low light don’t seem to extend to tag as she’s happy to start an unexpected game in the empty field by the playground.

They chase each other back and forth, laughing every time the other slips on grass still wet from a storm the previous day. After one such time, Azzi thinks she’s gotten away as she runs up a hill, only to discover a fence that would be too hard to climb with her current footwear. Seeing Paige approaching, she runs along the fence until it changes direction.

“You’re literally cornered, there’s nothing you can do,” Paige says gleefully as she gets closer.

Azzi almost makes it. She slips through Paige’s outstretched arms, but the blonde is quick and an expert at reading her. The next thing she knows, Paige has tackled her and they’re tumbling into the grass and rolling down the hill.

They come to a stop, both seeming to realize at the same time that Paige is on top of Azzi in a way that has their bodies pressed together and their faces much too close for friends in their situation. Paige makes no move to get up, and Azzi doesn’t push her off as they stare at each other, panting slightly.

Paige reaches out to pluck a strand of grass from Azzi’s hair and is disarmed by how calm the younger girl seems to be. She knows that her own heart is nearly beating out of her chest, but her best friend appears content to stay where she is, seemingly unbothered by their position.

Facing skyward in the grass, Paige thinks that Azzi belongs in the moonlight. For a fleeting moment, she imagines closing the distance between them to press her lips against her best friend’s. Instead, she settles for another kiss on the younger girl’s forehead.

When Paige pulls away, Azzi’s looking at her like she knows the answer to a question Paige hasn’t even thought to ask yet, and it sends her mind scrambling. Can she see how this is affecting me… does she know how I feel? Oh fuck, what if she’s uncomfortable?

That last thought has Paige scrambling to get up, despite no discernible change in Azzi’s body language. The dark-haired girl extends a hand up so Paige can pull her to her feet.

“If you’d stayed there any longer, I’d have no choice but to think you liked having me under you,” she says with a laugh, walking off to find a shoe that went missing in their scuffle.

For the second time that night, Paige is left speechless as Azzi walks off into the darkness.

They decide to go home soon after and Azzi, wanting to get the grass off, gets in the shower. She’s surprised to find her bed empty when she gets out, expecting Paige to be there as usual. Confused, the dark-haired girl goes down the hall to find Paige’s door locked with no light or sound coming from the room.

“Paige…?” she calls out softly. Getting no answer, she sighs and begins to make her way back to her own room. This is so weird. Come to think of it, Paige had maybe been a little closed off on the walk home, but Azzi figured it was just because her best friend was tired.

Paige listens to Azzi’s footsteps fade away from the door. Her breath shakes as she tries to hold back tears. She’d pushed it way too far with Azzi tonight, there was no way around that.

The blonde mentally berates herself for her actions. Azzi’s tone was always the same, it was so clear that she was joking, so why had Paige almost kissed her? She doesn’t know how she let things get to this point, but she does know that it’s time to set some rules with herself.

Even as she resolves to put up firm boundaries, Paige still finds herself subconsciously missing Azzi’s comforting presence next to her. As much as she hates it, Paige realizes that she has to find ways to distance herself from the dark-haired girl in spite of their inevitable proximity.

They don’t talk about it, but neither Paige nor Azzi sleeps well that night.

•••••

Azzi thinks that something must be wrong with Paige. The blonde has always been a physically affectionate person — really, they both have, at least with each other — so it’s almost impossible for Azzi to miss the space between them as they’re sitting on the couch watching some random movie. She almost thinks she imagined it because Paige still lets Azzi cuddle up against her, though there is a certain stiffness to the arm that wraps around her.

And it keeps getting worse. Azzi doesn’t know how she’d barely noticed them before, but the absence of gentle hands on her hips, arms thrown over her shoulders, and brushes of fingertips the next day is glaringly obvious to her. She can’t pretend that it doesn’t sting a little.

She considers asking Paige if she’s mad at her or something, but decides against it. Apart from whatever this is, her best friend is acting mostly normal, still looking at Azzi with the usual radiant smile and bright eyes (“that look like she’d give you the world,” Azzi’s mom had once said). So Azzi lets it go. This is fine.

And it should be, except… Azzi just wishes she knew what was going on. Needs to know, almost. She tries to think back to the night in the park, when her best friend started acting weird. Nothing stands out to her as abnormal. As much as she wants to ask Paige what the problem is, the blonde’s unwillingness to address it gives her pause.

While Azzi can’t remember anything like this ever happening to them, she’s not quite ready to start panicking. No one else has noticed the slight change in their interactions, and she reasons sadly that they might just be getting older or something. They’ll be fine, they have to be.

•••••

After a week, Azzi’s almost made peace with this new version of Paige. Thankfully, they still observe their routines and end up cuddled in Azzi’s bed watching some new show that has caught their eye.

If Azzi always waits for Paige to lay down so she can make sure they’re as entwined as possible, nobody needs to know. And if she thinks she feels Paige’s heartbeat speed up when she lays her head on the older girl’s chest, that’s a secret that she’s happy to keep.

This particular night, Azzi’s eyes are stubbornly refusing to stay open, and she decides that it’s Paige’s fault. Azzi’s head is in its usual spot on her best friend’s chest as she lays on her side. Paige’s large hands are rubbing soothing circles on her back, occasionally dipping low enough to graze the exposed skin where her hoodie has ridden up. She doesn’t know what caused it (she hadn’t even asked), but she isn’t complaining because Paige’s hands feel really good and this is the first time in a while that the blonde has touched her first.

Realistically, there was no reason that she couldn’t drift off. It had happened many times before, and it’s not like Paige would complain. But Azzi likes this time, their time, when she allows her imagination to run wild just for a little while as the pounding heartbeat beneath her echoes in her ear. So she fights to stay awake, even as her breathing evens out and her body relaxes even more.

Paige looks down at the peaceful expression on the younger girl’s face, and it almost physically hurts how beautiful she is. She can’t help but stare, a million thoughts running through her mind. Feeling brave, she plants a gentle kiss on the top of Azzi’s head, hoping that somehow her best friend will understand everything that she put into it.

Azzi doesn’t say anything, but her lips tilt upward in a soft smile. She snuggles closer and drapes an arm and a leg over the blonde.

Paige feels the gradual change in the rise and fall of Azzi’s chest, and it doesn’t even occur to her how crazy it was that she knows exactly what it means: Azzi is very close to falling asleep.

Quietly, she fumbles around for the TV remote and pauses the show, not wanting to risk waking Azzi up. The younger girl shifts slightly again and Paige holds her breath for what feels like forever.

Finally daring to exhale, she slowly returns her hands to Azzi’s back and sinks further into the pillows. The soft glow of the TV continues to illuminate the room, and Paige continues to look at Azzi.

Later, she’d come up with a million excuses for what she’d said. It was late, she was tired, she wasn’t thinking. But maybe it was simply an utterance of the truth that had been building, because it felt good to say out loud, even if it didn’t change anything.

A confession whispered in the dark, loud enough to cut through the thick fog of sleep in Azzi’s brain.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now, you know. Like, for real.”

An answer muffled by her face still pressed into Paige’s chest.

“Do it, then.”

Paige’s heart stops. She’s pretty sure she actually forgets how to breathe as Azzi’s eyes open and she lifts her head.

Azzi props herself up on an elbow. “Did you mean it, P?” Her eyes droop as if she’s just asked the most unimportant question in the world, not one that could completely ruin their entire friendship.

Paige is frozen, her blue eyes wide with shock. “I-” The lump forming in her throat stops her from answering, and that’s honestly fine, because she doesn’t know what she would’ve said. All she can do is stare helplessly, desperately blinking back tears.

Azzi’s gaze softens. “Baby, it’s okay,” she soothes, her voice still gravelly. Rubbing her eyes, she pushes herself up into a sitting position, sliding her leg all the way over so that she’s straddling Paige.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay? Unless you don’t want that,” she says gently. She leans forward to tuck a strand of hair behind Paige’s ear, getting a whiff of coconut and vanilla. She used my shampoo. It’s so domestic, and the realization further solidifies in Azzi’s mind that what she’s about to do is right.

Azzi looks down at Paige, unable to keep the excited smile off her face, knowing she’s wanted this for years now. As she places a hand on Paige’s cheek, the blonde gives a hesitant nod, and it gives Azzi the confidence to connect their lips.

It’s tentative and new and honestly, a little scary. Despite her outward demeanour, Azzi’s heart is racing just as fast as Paige’s as their lips move against each other. But as they both relax into the kiss, a sense of calm settles over them. This feels safe. This feels right. This feels like them.

Their foreheads stay pressed together as they break apart and inhale. Azzi wants to roll her eyes at the stupid smirk on Paige’s face, but she settles for kissing it off, finally able to do what she’s wanted to so many times before.

Paige’s hands roam Azzi’s body, touching everywhere she’d told herself she couldn’t. Azzi starts to plant sloppy kisses on Paige’s neck, but eventually the blonde feels the weight of the body on her start to press down more.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Az?” She pinches Azzi’s side.

Azzi barely lifts her head from where it’s buried in the crook of Paige’s neck. “Hmm?”

“You’re just gonna fall asleep, like right now? Really? Is kissing me that boring?” The older girl says exasperatedly.

“Yes,” Azzi deadpans. She lets the silence drag before breaking down into giggles. “We have so many nights to do this, and I’m exhausted.” She drops her head back onto Paige’s shoulder. “Talk to me tomorrow or something.”

Paige isn’t really mad, of course. She’s quite content to let her eyes fall closed as she holds Azzi in her arms.

—

Katie opens the door to wake them up the next morning. If she notices the way Azzi might be suspiciously holding Paige’s face or the way Paige’s hands might be suspiciously low on Azzi’s back, she doesn’t say anything. Closing the door, she smiles to herself. That can be a conversation for later. Right now, she’ll let Azzi enjoy something new for once.

—

Azzi is, in fact, not enjoying herself in the slightest. When she wakes up to an empty bed, she figures that Paige has somehow gotten up before her even though that has never happened in the entire history of their friendship and gone to help with breakfast. When she walks into a completely empty kitchen, her heart sinks. Where the fuck is Paige?

Wandering the house, Azzi is disappointed to find everyone’s door shut, including Paige’s. She doesn’t understand.

Azzi is getting tired of this weird cat-and-mouse game. She figured that kissing Paige would clear everything up and finally put a stop to it, but apparently she’d overestimated her best friend’s intellectual capacity or something, because why would she leave?

Breakfast is… awkward, to say the least. Paige is disturbingly polite and formal, visibly stiffening every time Azzi addresses her. Thankfully, no one comments on it, but Azzi is almost positive the tension is so thick that even her brothers have picked up on it.

When Tim suggests a ‘family day’, Azzi thinks that maybe she doesn’t give her parents enough credit. Now, her and Paige will have to interact, but at least they can avoid the awkwardness that would certainly come with being alone. She’s still super upset with her best friend, but she’s smart enough to know that anything she wants to say to the blonde right now wouldn’t help the situation.

—

Paige spends the day in her head. She’s really trying her best to act normal, but there's been an ever-growing knot in her stomach since she woke up in a panic at four in the morning.

After getting out of Azzi’s room as fast as she could without waking the younger girl, Paige had spent several hours in the bathroom as she hyperventilated. Then the tears had come, not stopping until she was crying so hard she was gagging over the toilet. Why did I say anything?

As far as Paige is concerned, Azzi’s response meant nothing good. Either she’d kissed Paige out of pity, or it meant so little to her that she hadn’t given it a second thought. Clearly, the dark-haired girl didn’t want to go further than kissing her, and she hadn’t even done that for very long (as evidenced by how quickly Azzi went to sleep).

The realization that Azzi must see this as nothing more than something best friends could do had haunted Paige as soon as it had dawned on her. It all made sense really, why Azzi had never addressed the flirting either. It had to be nothing more than a game to her. The worst part is that, in spite of everything, she still craves Azzi’s touch and comforting presence beside her.

Paige can’t even say anything. It’s not fair to tell her best friend how far from a game it is to her. And it especially isn’t fair to tell her that she accidentally broke Paige’s heart.

—

As the day goes on, Azzi calms down a bit. Paige is still acting distant, but it doesn’t feel like it’s coming from a place of malice. The younger girl figures she knows her best friend better than basically anyone in the world, and the only way she could describe Paige’s behaviour would be ‘scared’.

It’s not something she’s familiar with because Paige is hardly afraid of anything, but the haunted look dimming her normally bright eyes quenches the flames of anger in Azzi’s heart to give way to worry.

Her instinct in the morning had been to drag Paige somewhere to talk it out, but because of family time, she’s had to settle for small gestures to get the blonde out of her perturbed state.

They’d teamed up to play board games and Azzi had actually gotten a couple laughs out of Paige and a high five when they won. She’d also accepted Azzi’s offer to be teammates in 2 on 2, and Azzi had breathed a small sigh of relief when their chemistry on the court was still as good as ever. Her own concerns had eased a little when the blonde had brought ice cream bars out of the freezer after dinner before Azzi even asked for one.

All of this led to the ultimate test — going up to Azzi’s room for their nightly ritual. Paige initially claims to be too tired, but after some urging from Katie and Tim to ‘complete the day’, she relents and reluctantly makes her way upstairs. She sits stiffly at the edge of Azzi’s bed, still not sure what to say.

“You can pick the show today,” Azzi suggests, standing up and walking across the room to her closet. “I’m just gonna have a quick shower before we start it, okay?”

“Okay,” Paige replies automatically. When Azzi leaves the room, towel in hand, the blonde sits frozen in place for a few minutes before panic overtakes her again. While Azzi had been acting totally normal, Paige had barely been able to keep it together even with the buffers of the rest of the Fudds. So there’s no way she’s going to be able to get through several hours alone with Azzi.

Coming to a decision, Paige stands up abruptly and makes a beeline for her room. Finally safe behind her closed door, she can’t dispel the guilt for what she knows is a situation entirely of her own creation.

—

Azzi steps out of the shower with a clear head. She won’t push too hard, but Paige is not leaving her room tonight until they’re on the same page about the kiss and what it meant. These good intentions are dispelled the moment she steps into an empty room. Getting dressed as quickly as possible, the anger from earlier in the day comes flooding back despite her efforts to quell it.

She only makes it through four deep breaths before she’s flinging her door open and stomping walking down the hall. She expects Paige’s door to be locked, but can’t help trying the handle to confirm her suspicions. When it doesn’t budge, she insistently taps her knuckles against the wood.

“Paige Madison, I’m not doing this with you again, so help me God.” She doesn’t raise her voice, conscious that the whole house is in bed, but her tone tells Paige that she means business.

Azzi hears shuffling and a long sigh before the door opens slightly.

“What is it?” Paige stares at the floor.

“You know what,” Azzi says exasperatedly. “We clearly need to talk about this.”

“Do we? Talk about what?” Paige says evasively.

“Paige, you can’t even look at me.”

“Fine,” The blonde sighs dramatically again. “Can we at least not do this right here?” Azzi clearly isn’t letting this go, and Paige will take any extra time to get her thoughts together that she can get.

“We can do this wherever you want,” Azzi says flippantly. “But you have to promise you’ll actually talk to me, I can’t do this with you anymore.”

For the first time that night, Paige’s eyes meet Azzi’s. “I promise I’ll talk to you,” she says in a small voice. “Can we go to your room? It’s farther from everyone else.” She doesn’t want to explain the real reason: being in Azzi’s space brings her a fraction of the comfort that the girl it belongs to does.

“Then let’s go.” Throwing a pointed look in Paige’s direction, the dark-haired girl grabs her best friend’s hand and drags her down the hallway.

Paige immediately flops down onto Azzi’s bed. “I changed my mind, I don’t wanna do this anymore,” she covers her face with her hands. “Can we actually just go to sleep?”

Feeling a weight on her stomach, Paige uncovers her eyes to find Azzi straddling her. “That is the last thing we should be doing,” the younger girl argues, “and you promised me. We don’t break promises.”

Azzi grabs Paige’s hands, pinning them to the bed. Paige can’t control the flash of heat that shoots through her body. When did this get so fucking confusing?

“I’m keeping you here until we’ve figured this out. I know where my head is on this, but I need to know what you’re thinking,” her voice softens, “and I don’t like seeing you so stressed.”

Paige is once again kind of in awe of her best friend. She’s both impressed at how mature Azzi is being about this, and shocked that Azzi doesn’t seem to realize the effect that their current position is having on her.

“You should think about where you're sitting,” she pouts. Her breath catches as Azzi shifts slightly on top of her. “How am I even supposed to focus right now?”

That was bold. Azzi wasn’t doing anything on purpose, but this is the closest to an explanation that she’s gotten, and she’s willing to work any angle to fix this. It’s not like I don’t want this, too. She stares down at the older girl, a challenge in her eyes.

“Maybe I did think about it. Can you handle this, or do you need me to move?” Azzi doesn’t even sound remotely apologetic.

“I can handle it!” Paige answers a little too quickly, earning a smile from the other girl.

“Don’t panic, I’ll go first while you think,” Azzi decides. “I kissed you because I like you, obviously as more than a best friend. I have for a while, actually-”

Paige cuts her off. “How long?” She has to know.

“Years, P, but that’s not important,” Azzi sounds mildly annoyed again. Paige, wisely, lets her continue. “I’ve spent too much time trying to figure out if it’s normal for friends to act like we do, but I don’t want you to kiss me because you’re bored or anything like that. I need you to know that this actually means something to me, okay?”

Azzi leans in and Paige closes her eyes, only to feel the press of Azzi’s lips on her cheek. She opens her eyes as Azzi starts to kiss all over her face.

“Your turn,” Azzi whispers in her ear. Paige shivers as the younger girl’s lips brush her ear. “Then we can do whatever you want.”

Azzi lets go of Paige’s wrists to run her hands down the blonde’s arms. The drag of nails against pale skin isn’t especially suggestive, but goosebumps still cover Paige’s body as she considers what exactly Azzi means. She shakes her head to clear it, certain that she sees a simmering hunger in her friend’s eyes that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

Paige swallows thickly. “I’m sorry for avoiding you,” the older girl begins sheepishly. “You were just confusing me and I didn’t want to overstep or scare you or mess up us, which I guess I did maybe but I never wanted that and I-”

She cuts herself off with a sharp intake of breath as Azzi begins to kiss her neck. It reminds her of the previous night, only this time Azzi doesn’t seem tired at all as she grinds her hips down in tandem with the rough kisses.

“Keep talking, baby,” the dark-haired girl stops to say. “You’re doing so well.”

Paige doesn’t know if it’s the praise or that name, but she feels heat bloom in her cheeks and travel down her body. The panic that had risen when she started talking subsides slightly.

Paige opens and closes her mouth, searching for the right words. “I like you a lot, too. I kissed you because I really wanted to… I want to all the time.” Feeling embarrassed, she looks away. “I think I always want too much with you. You mean everything to me, honestly.”

Maybe it wouldn’t make sense to everyone, but Azzi understands and it’s all she needs to hear. Paige, already having turned her head as far into the pillow as she can, doesn’t notice her best friend breathe a slight sigh of relief.

“Mmm,” Azzi nips playfully at Paige’s ear, “and what do you want right now?”

Paige glances down at the way their bodies are pressed together before she looks up at Azzi. They lock eyes, and there is only one word that encompasses everything she’s feeling. “You,” she breathes.

And finally, Azzi doesn’t press for more as she allows their lips to meet again. They’re both a little more sure than last time, and they fall into a comfortable rhythm with Paige’s hands on Azzi’s waist as the younger girl tugs insistently on her shirt.

In fact, there’s not much talking at all as they shed the rest of their clothes, then only the occasional whispered curse slipping from Paige’s lips as Azzi’s fingers and mouth finish what she started the previous night.

When they kiss again and Paige tastes herself on her best friend’s lips, it’s better than anything she’s ever dreamed up. And if Paige is a little nervous to return the favour, Azzi pretends not to notice as she gently guides the blonde’s hand between her legs, kissing her all the while.

—

Azzi is relieved to not wake up alone, realizing with a start that she’s wearing significantly less clothing than would be appropriate if anyone were to come in. Her frantic scrambling wakes Paige, who looks a little disoriented.

The blonde rubs the sleep from her eyes. “Hi,” she says softly, a content smile settling on her face.

The sound of her voice calms Azzi down. “Hi,” she responds, unable to keep a cautious undertone out of her voice.

Paige doesn’t register it as she’s too busy admiring the dark-haired girl. “You’re so pretty in the morning,” Her brow furrows. “And at night, and always, but especially right now.” She reaches for Azzi and her eyes slide closed.

“Go back to sleep, you sound stupid,” Azzi giggles. Locked once more in her best friend’s embrace, she can’t suppress her giddiness at how easily the words had flowed from Paige’s lips.

When they do finally get up (due to the incessant rattling of Azzi’s locked door), there’s a certain shyness as Azzi helps Paige put her clothes back on, but none of the awkward tension that had followed their first kiss. They talk in whispers until Azzi’s eyes drift to Paige’s neck and shocked laughter shatters the quiet.

“Everyone is so gonna know,” Paige panics as she examines the marks that have already begun to turn purple. “Your dad is gonna kill me or something!”

“You didn’t do anything, or at least it doesn’t look like it,” Azzi replies with a hint of pride. “It’s not a big deal, just don’t draw attention to them and no one will notice.”

—

Seeing Paige sit down to breakfast in a hoodie with her hair down (both things she’s done only a handful of times during her stay, and never together), Katie has no doubt that what she saw the previous day was, in fact, exactly what it looked like. She shoots Tim a look that says ‘I told you so’, and they both struggle to hide their smiles.

“Why all the layers? Are you getting sick, honey?” Katie bumps Paige’s shoulder as the blonde stands up to get a drink.

“Nah, I’m fine,” Paige mumbles as she looks at the floor. The blush that instantly colours her face has Tim choking on his coffee with suppressed laughter.

Azzi isn’t sure how her parents figured it out, but their playful jabs at Paige’s choice of attire don’t scare the younger girl as much as she thought they would. They know, and it’s okay. At least her brothers still seem to be completely clueless.

Paige, on the other hand, looks petrified as she struggles to explain to a still chuckling Tim why she doesn’t want to go swimming on this particular day. Even after shooting her best friend a pleading look, the only help she gets from Azzi is a reassuring squeeze of her hand under the table.

It’s a small gesture, all things considered, but it speaks to how far they’ve come that Azzi doesn’t think twice about it, and Paige doesn’t have any lingering urge to pull away.

Maybe they really will be fine.

[r26yz]

So look long at that Christmas tree

It may be the last one that you see

[moonsworndandelion]

some author notes age better than others...

[billdenbrough]

eddie prompted me twinyards after graduation for our 500w/1hr ficlet challenge. this version is the 750w variant but i did get one down to 500w, this one was just closer to the brief lol

There is a world, Andrew knows, where the ceremony ends and Aaron takes off his cap, his gown, and hands them to Nicky. Everything he owns fits into a duffel bag that he slings over his shoulder as he steps out the door. He does not look back.

-

That is not this world.

-

“Eat shit, Neil,” Aaron says, flipping off the man in question with one hand while the other mashes hard on the A button to send shells at him.

Kevin, on the other side of Aaron, winces. It never fails to amuse Andrew, the way Aaron mocked Kevin’s uselessness at gaming enough that he started to develop a modicum of empathy.

“Learn to drive, Aaron,” Neil retorts, his tongue sticking out to the side as he scowls at the screen, concentrating on passing Toadette.

Bowser suddenly shows up out of nowhere, knocking between both their karts. Aaron swears viciously and Neil mumbles something under his breath about Nicky, who cackles. Kevin never looks away from the screen. Andrew doesn’t know what good he thinks it’s going to do.

Neil’s back is a line of heat against Andrew’s shin. Andrew closes his eyes, letting the sound of Aaron taunting Kevin—are you allergic to accelerating? Is this the real reason you made Andrew drive you fucking everywhere? Don’t be a pussy, throw it at me like you mean it—fill his head. His mouth quirks up at the corner.

-

“People are going to think I’m the fun twin if you keep hanging out in carparks,” Aaron says, footsteps crunching gravel.

Andrew drops his cigarette, grinding it beneath his heel. “That should not be the deciding factor.”

Aaron hums. He leans against the car: not-quite-close enough to be touching, but near enough that Andrew can feel his warmth emanating.

The thing about Aaron is that he’s been reaching out to Andrew his whole life. He’s never been good at recognising what it looks like when Andrew is holding on tightly because he doesn’t want to let go, but credit where it’s due: no matter what Andrew throws in his face, Aaron stubbornly stays close enough to reach him, even when it’s like reaching his arm into a burning car.

Aaron’s always been bad at walking away from a car crash. Andrew would know; he had to orchestrate one once just to keep Aaron out of the headlights.

“Have you packed?” he asks eventually.

“Mostly,” Aaron says. “Kevin said he’d give me a ride, which meant he bitched at me to get my shit in his car way earlier than necessary.”

Andrew hums. “I could have given you a ride,” he says.

He can feel Aaron’s gaze. “I didn’t want to interfere with your trip,” he says. “Didn’t know my dates. Kevin said he was just fucking around Wymack’s anyway.”

Andrew does not say, I would have waited, even though it’s true. Neil would have let him. Andrew might have done it regardless.

He says, “Kevin did not.”

Aaron says, “Only because he’s a fucking liar. He said he was helping out.”

“He’s not a helpful person,” Andrew says, not unreasonably. Then, he adds, “Off the court.”

Exercises in honesty.

“See?” Aaron says. “Fucking around.” He sighs, leaning back his head. Andrew watches the line of his throat from the side of his eye, clocking the way a breath rolls through it.

He remembers waking up in the hospital room and seeing Aaron sitting in the chair beside his bed. Hoodie threadbare around the wrists, grey and faded. Everything about Aaron looked faded those days: the colour of his hair, the light in his eyes, the bruises peeking out around his ribs.

Andrew remembers everything. Aaron’s first letter. The tentative twist to the first smile Andrew teased out of him, sixteen and too used to flinching for Andrew to forgive. Are you in for another five years? Aaron’s hair beneath his hands, blood all over them both, everywhere.

“Don’t get a cold in Chicago,” he says instead of any of that.

Aaron scoffs. “Yeah, stellar medical advice,” he says. Then, looking directly at Andrew, “You too.”

“I will not be in Chicago,” Andrew replies.

“Asshole,” Aaron mutters. It’s fonder than it ought to be. “I hope you and Neil get chlamydia.”

Andrew snorts. “The future of America’s medical system,” he says dryly. He thinks he’s smiling.

It’s okay. Aaron is too.

-

In this world, Aaron reaches out – tugs – holds Andrew beside Kevin’s stupid Jeep.

Andrew reaches back – holds on – does not let go.

[the-marshals-wife]

Ugly Sweaters and Mistletoe (Sebastian Wilder x Reader)

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ 𝐑𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⋅☆⋅ 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

A/N: Merry Goosemas! 🎄 After all the comfort and joy he has brought me this year, I had to dedicate my holiday fic to another of his darling characters. I rewatched La La Land and endured the agony of the ending just so I could write this.

{Forgive me the mini chunk of exposition at the beginning, there's a ton of dialogue afterwards, I promise. I must give reader some set-up/backstory or I will perish.}

Description: Sebastian Wilder x waitress Fem!Reader, festive fluff | Warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, alcohol/drinking mentioned | Setting: a year or so after the epilogue | Word count: 2.6k

Imagine Sebastian surprising you with some holiday magic

Christmas had officially come to Seb's, and it was better than you'd ever imagined. As you tie your apron around your waist and make your way onto the floor to begin your shift, you try to take in all of the splendor. Garland was draped across the frames on every wall, each table had a cloth with festive print, and a beautiful tree decorated in blue and silver twinkled in the corner of the stage. Perhaps best of all, the club was absolutely brimming with guests wearing the flashiest, gaudiest holiday sweaters you'd ever seen.

You slip behind the bar, head buzzing with anticipation.

"Merry Christmas," you greet the mixologist.

"It most certainly is," he smiles, pausing to wipe his brow, "These sweaters are good for business. We got a lot of thirsty folks tonight."

"I better stay on my toes," you reply.

Even without the holiday trimmings, working at Seb's was the best job you'd ever had. The staff were some of the most easy-going people you'd ever met, the atmosphere was electric, and the music was sensational. Where else could you buss tables for a decent wage and hear a jazz concert every single night? The tips weren't too shabby either. It wasn't uncommon for you to bring drinks to studio execs and business moguls just as much as the working class jazz enthusiast. It'd taken a few years to get off the ground, but now, there was hardly a person left in LA who dared to call themselves "in the know" that hadn't at least heard of this place. By the time you'd sent in your application, Seb's was quite well-established on the scene. That was nearly a year ago now, and the club had only grown in popularity since. Even the odd movie star would visit from time to time. Some would sneak in and try to blend with the rest of the clientele, while others would leave a brigade of paparazzi out on the sidewalk, crowding around the door until said celebrity had to inevitably depart. Sebastian was quite irritable on those days, though he admitted to liking the publicity.

Oh, Sebastian. Admittedly, your favorite part of the gig was not the music or the money, but the owner himself. That was something you tried to keep to yourself, although perhaps to varying degrees of success. Like many of the nights that had come before, in the ocean of faces, you find yourself looking for one in particular. You see the band warming up on stage, but the charming, somewhat enigmatic pianist is missing.

Your fellow waitress for the evening bounces into the bar behind you, snapping you back to reality. She's decked out in a peppermint-striped sweater dress and fuzzy reindeer antler hairpieces.

"Oh my gosh, I love your outfit," you smile.

"Thank you! I love yours," she beams, "Look at this place! Cal said there was a line forming down the block two hours before opening."

"I know, this is insane," you agree, taking in the view again, "I can't believe so many people came."

"And I seriously can't believe you got Sebastian to do this," she chuckles, stacking drinks on her tray.

You pick up a cloth and start polishing a glass. "What do you mean?"

"He's super strict about the aesthetic of this place. Everything's gotta fit 'the jazz vibe', you know? He wouldn't even let people wear anything special for Halloween."

"Really? I wore a princess tiara and had glitter all in my hair on Halloween. He didn't say a word to me about it."

She stops long enough to shoot you a pointed look. You could instantly feel your cheeks turning red.

"My point exactly," she responds, smirking, "Boy, am I glad, too. I love working here, but around the holidays, it has been like a funeral home. No lights, no tree. Not even a shred of tinsel."

"You're kidding," you say, realization finally starting to sink in.

"Now it's like the mall at Christmas in here," she declares, "Whatever you're doing, honey, keep it up."

She winks. Before you can explain that her guess was as good as yours on what that might be, she's walked away and left you to your stunned thoughts.

Did Sebastian really do all this just because you asked? You try to think back to the moment that you suggested it to him. By all accounts, it had been a night like any other. You were cleaning up your tables, eagerly thinking about the upcoming holiday season, especially since it would be your first working at Seb's. At your last job, they talked about doing an ugly Christmas sweater night for the staff and guests, but you left before getting to participate. You always thought it would be fun. So, when Sebastian walked you to your car that night, like he always did when you worked the closing shift, you brought it up.

"Sounds...colorful," he'd remarked, nodding thoughtfully.

And that was it, until a week ago when you saw the pile of fliers on the bar for Seb's first ever ugly Christmas sweater party. You'd been too excited to realize how out of the ordinary it was. Thanks to your amused coworker, you now wonder how you could have missed it.

More anxious than ever to see him, you make yourself busy, going out to your tables and collecting orders. Yet by the time you deliver your third full tray of drinks, there was still no sign of Sebastian. From the back of the room, you can see the rest of the band up on stage shrugging and talking amongst themselves. Just as you're about to sneak into the back to look for him yourself, you hear a familiar voice.

Sebastian hurriedly walks up alongside you, surveying the full club.

"Oh good, they didn't start without me," he says, out of breath.

"I was starting to think you got lost, Wilder," you say, turning to face him.

"Just had to swing by the North Pole and grab a change of costume. I definitely didn't forget it in my car," he replies, slicking back his tousled hair, "So, what do you think?"

He peers down and holds out the bottom of his bright red sweater, a huge golden saxophone emblazoned on the front surrounded by tiny silver music notes.

Your hands fly up over your mouth, the sight filling you with instant joy.

"I freaking love it," you grin, "It's glorious."

"Think it's snazzy enough? Or, should I say, jazzy enough?"

"It's so jazzy," you answer, giggling in delight.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You look pretty festive yourself."

You glance down at your green yuletide apparition, the two googly eyes of a fluffy white cat in an elf hat staring up at you.

"Thanks. It was between this and one that had Santa with a Hawaiian shirt and a margarita. This one spoke to me though."

"I think it's speaking to me too," he says, raising an eyebrow, "The eyes really follow you, don't they?

Just like always, Sebastian had you laughing and nearly forgetting the rest of the world.

"Speaking of eyes following you," you begin, gesturing, "Don't you have a show to start?"

"Indeed I do. Time to jingle some bells," he says, clapping his hands together, "See you after?"

Your heart skips at the suggestion. "I'll be here."

He starts to walk off, but then you're struck with sudden remembrance.

"Wait, Seb!" you call after him, reaching into your apron, "I almost forgot."

He spins on his heel and returns, his bright blue eyes wide with expectation.

"To complete your look," you say, holding out a Santa hat, "You're the boss, after all."

"Of course. How can I refuse?" he smiles, taking it from your grip and placing it on his head, "You don't have a long white beard for me too, do you?"

"No, no, you're good. I left that in my other apron," you snort, playfully shoving his arm, "You better get up there, Jazzy Claus."

"That's good. I'm gonna use that," he replies before dashing away.

Now remembering that you're on the clock, you quickly maneuver back to home base where more orders are surely waiting on you. Across the club, Sebastian finally makes his way onto the stage and up to the microphone.

"Happy Holidays," he greets after the boisterous applause, "I see a lot of folks who have donned their gay apparel. I know I have. And I've got just one question for you. Who here is feeling the Christmas spirit?"

The audience laughs and whoops in confirmation as you arrange a round of refills on your tray, stealing glances as you go.

"I think we've got at least a few," he smiles, scanning the crowd, "But if you're not feeling it yet, I believe you will before the night is over. I'd like to thank you all for attending our first ever 'Ugly Sweater Celebration.' We've got a great line up for you tonight that will hopefully put a spring in your step, and maybe even bring some cheer to your hearts."

"But before we start rocking around the Christmas tree, I want to take a moment to thank a very special someone."

You nearly drop the glass in your hand. Before you can move, the soft glow of one of the stage lights is pointing directly at you. Your pulse begins to race, and through your stupor, you hear Sebastian continue.

"The lovely Miss Y/N, without whom tonight's party, and much of the magic here at Seb's, would not have been possible."

As the audience claps in your honor, you look up to see Seb's gaze fixed on you. In that moment, the glitter and garland faded away. All that remained was you and he.

Only once he sat down at the piano and began to play did time start again.

⋆

The party was a complete success. People even cheered for an encore of ''Zat You, Santa Claus?', which Seb was all too happy to give. Meanwhile, you somehow managed to focus on your tables and get through the rest of your shift without busting from excitement, Seb's speech about you replaying in your mind. As much as you enjoyed the festivities, you couldn't keep your thoughts from wandering to what might await after the final carol was played.

Now that the last guest had left, and the rest of the staff had gone home, you and Sebastian were the only two left in the building. The suspense quickens your pace as you switch off the remaining lights and gather your things. Like clockwork, Sebastian stands by the door waiting for you.

"I'm about to sweat to death in this thing," he says as you approach, keys jingling in his hand, "You ready for some fresh air?"

"Don't have to ask me twice," you reply, pulling your purse over your shoulder.

He holds the door open for you, locking up once you're through. You wait for him at the top of the stairs like usual as he switches off the neon, going through the motions of the nightly routine in uncharacteristic silence. You figured he was exhausted from spreading holiday cheer, yet you couldn't help but wonder if anticipation was weighing on him as well. The damp night air brings little relief as you step onto the sidewalk, but it would take an arctic breeze to chill your nerves.

He locks the outer door and lets out a dramatic sigh.

"Much better," he exhales, "At least three degrees cooler. Maybe five."

You start off down the block side by side.

"I'd say about four and a half," you nod, "Why don't you take the sweater off?"

"And undo all that Christmas spirit? I think not," he scoffs.

"What was I thinking?" You roll your eyes, bouncing your palm off of your forehead.

"You didn't have one of those eggnog cocktails, did you? Which was not my idea, by the way," he adds, shuddering.

"Absolutely not, that was disgusting. Just the smell of it-," you gag, wishing you could dispel the memory entirely, "If I never have to serve another of those again, it'll be too soon."

Silence falls between you for a moment as you turn the corner and start down the alley towards the parking lot.

"I think my halls are officially decked," he says, a bit quieter than before.

"Same. I smiled so much, my cheeks hurt."

"You're not going to report that as a workplace injury, are you?" he teases, "Cause if you are, I'm gonna need to lawyer up."

Your expression turns sly. "Well, we might be able to come to some sort of arrangement."

"Uh oh, like what?" he asks, faking nervousness.

"Like...you agreeing to have a Christmas party every year from now on," you respond with confidence.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be. I give ya an inch, and you take a candy cane mile!" he throws up his hands in feigned exasperation.

You step ahead of him and begin to walk backwards, staring him down.

"We could always take it to court, Wilder. But I'm warning you, my lawyer has never lost a facial injury case. I think you should just accept the deal and walk while you still can," you say sternly, trying not to crack up.

He stops in his tracks and crosses his arms, frowning, "I didn't take you for a cutthroat."

"That was your mistake, Jazzy Claus," you smirk, "Never judge a woman by her ugly sweater."

Sebastian can keep up the charade no longer, breaking down into laughter. You swiftly follow suit.

"Alright, alright. Twist my arm, why don't ya," he concedes, rolling his eyes and starting to walk again.

"I knew you'd see it my way," you chuckle, pleased with your victory.

Your car comes into view, and with the playful moment passed, you determine to tell him what you'd actually intended to.

"I really enjoyed tonight. Everyone did. Thank you for doing all of this."

"It was a great idea. I'm glad you thought of it."

Your journey ends as you reach the front of your car, and you stand face to face.

"That's all I did. You're the one who brought it to life and pulled off a Christmas miracle," you remind.

"Because of you," he states, "I get stuck in my ways sometimes. But when you're around...not so much."

"Well, I'm glad I can help," you offer, glancing down at your shoes.

"I meant what I said up on stage, Y/N. This place is better with you," he pauses, inching closer to you, "So am I."

You're momentarily lost for words, captivated by his softened gaze.

"I also meant to hang this somewhere out here." He reaches into his pocket and produces a sprig of mistletoe tied with a thin red ribbon, "But there's really nothing to walk under. And then I thought, 'maybe that's a weird thing to do', even though it's a time-honored tradition. So you know, I just spiraled from there."

You grin and take the sprig from his open palm.

"Don't overthink it, Wilder," you say, holding it over your head.

He takes only seconds to accept your invitation. The space between you disappears as he leans in and captures your lips in a tender kiss. Time stops once more as you kiss him back beneath the winter stars. This too was better than you'd ever dreamed.

"Do you have any plans for New Years Eve?" you ask, awestruck.

He slips his hand into yours and smiles.

"I do now."