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azzifudd · 15 hours

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i don't wanna see you with anyone but me

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed.

rated: teen

3.0k words

disclaimer: as always, this is fictional

[AO3 Link]

Azzi gets nervous before games. She always has. No matter how low or high the stakes, whether it’s a regular season game against a team clearly a cut below her own or the state championships, the moment she sets foot on the court, her palms break out into a sweat and her stomach churns with nerves.

Today though, she’s not nervous at all. She’s pissed. It’s already been a bad morning. Early morning games are always tough on the team, and they’d gotten to the hotel late last night because of an expected traffic jam, leading to even less sleep.

And now, instead of helping her warm up and hyping her up like she normally is, Paige is at the opposite end of the court giggling with some girl on the other team.

They only have a few weeks left together before Paige has to go home, and instead of being with Azzi, she’s off flirting with someone else.

Azzi takes another shot, grunting when it bounces off the rim. The ref finally blows his whistle, signaling the teams to line up for tip off. Paige starts to walk back toward their side of the court, but not before that girl says goodbye with a hand pressed to Paige’s arm.

Azzi’s petty enough that she pretends she doesn’t see Paige’s offered high five before she runs onto the court.

Azzi plays like a woman possessed. By the time the final buzzer sounds, they’re up 25 points after her efficient 33.

“Okay, killa!” When Paige bounds up to her, bumping into her with her chest and trying to wrap her arms around her, she shrugs her off.

“Why don’t you go comfort your new friend?” Azzi heads to the bench to take a much needed drink of water. Paige trails close behind her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Her.” Azzi flicks her head in the girl’s direction. Azzi has to admit she’s pretty; with dark skin, dark hair, and big brown eyes. She’d probably enjoyed it a little too much when her crossover had landed the girl on her ass, but like she’s said, she’s petty.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know her.” Paige looks dumbfounded.

“You seemed to know her well enough that you spent all of pregame talking to her instead of helping me warm up.” She tries to keep her voice low, knowing that their voices would echo easily in the gym no matter how loud the other games were.

“She said she was a fan! I was just being nice!” Paige crowds into her space, voice defensive.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.”

“Azzi, come on, you’re being crazy.”

Azzi sees red, elbowing Paige in the stomach, pushing her lanky body out of the way easily. “Get away from me.”

“Fine!” Paige throws up her hands. “Come find me when you’re done being crazy.”

The rest of the day drags as they have to take the long drive home together in the car with Azzi’s family. Her parents clearly want nothing to do with their drama, ignoring the two ticking time bombs in the backseat.

When they finally make it back to the house, Azzi storms inside, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

“So… what happened, big dawg?” Tim asks Paige as she helps him unload their bags from the car.

“I didn’t even do anything!” Paige huffs, frustrated.

“I didn’t say you did.” He replies, patient.

Paige hesitates, suddenly feeling awkward about talking about this with her what are they? her girl? her Azzi’s dad, but he stops her before she has to.

“You don’t have to tell me the details, but give her some time to cool down, and then just talk to her. You know how she can be, I mean both of you are stubborn as hell, but when has she ever stayed mad at you for long?

That’s true. It’s one of the things that Paige likes the most about Azzi, that no matter how annoying Paige is being, Azzi still wants her around.

When they’re done unpacking, Paige goes to find Azzi. She stops in the kitchen to grab some reinforcements. When she gets to Azzi’s door, she hesitates. She’s never had to knock before. But before she even needs to, it opens.

She and Azzi stare at each other for a moment before they’re both blurting out, “I’m sorry.”

Then they’re both giggling and Azzi pulls Paige into her room, shutting the door behind her.

“I brought this, in case you were still mad at me.” Paige holds up a cartoon of ice cream and a spoon.

“Only one spoon?”

“In case you were still mad at me,” Paige repeats. Azzi laughs and tugs Paige over to sit on the bed, where they take turns eating bites of the ice cream.

“I’m sorry I called you crazy.” Paige says, wincing as she remembers it. “I shoulda seen how upset you were.”

“And I’m sorry that I overreacted when I saw you talking to someone else.” Azzi twists her fingers together. “I just got so mad when I saw you talking to her. And I know how popular you are, and you deserve every bit of it, but…”

Paige just waits because she knows Azzi needs to talk it out herself, and that she just needs Paige to listen.

“I know it’s selfish, but part of me just wants to keep you to myself. Because as soon as everyone finds out about you, they’re gonna want you.” Azzi glances at Paige then, almost certain she’ll see a cocky grin on her face, but Paige just listens.

Paige gets it. Sometimes someone can just look at Azzi for a second too long and it makes her want to just take Azzi and hide her away. But she can’t, so she just reaches out to hold Azzi’s hand.

There are so many things she wishes she could say to Azzi, things that she can barely stand to consider because they scare the shit out of her.

So she just settles for saying the one thing she knows to be true.

“I’m yours.”

Paige watches Azzi blush, stunned and speechless.

“Can I kiss you now? Lowkey it was so hot how jealous you got.” Paige laughs when Azzi pushes her with a hand to her face.

But then that same hand is gripping at her collar and pulling her on top of Azzi and then there’s no more talking.

It’s a Friday night, and Paige is sober.

It’s not the most uncommon occurrence, not anymore. After her ACL, she has learned to be a bit more responsible, a bit more grown up. So when the girls had decided to go out that night, she volunteered to be DD.

And if that gives her a chance to watch over Azzi a little more closely she will take it. The younger girl has been acting off in the past weeks. On the outside, she doubts that anyone else has noticed, but she almost knows Azzi better than she knows herself.

It becomes even clearer that something’s wrong when Azzi returns over and over to the bar, taking way more shots than she usually does.

And now, a few hours into their night, she has disappeared. It’s a small bar, in a small town, so Paige isn’t too worried, but Azzi has never been one to wander off, and especially not on her own.

Paige pokes her head through the door to the back patio which consists of a few picnic tables, lit up with fairy lights. She almost heads back inside when she hears a familiar laugh from the far end of the patio.

When her eyes adjust to the light, she sees Azzi sitting on a table, a tall form looming over her.

“Azzi!” She barks out, strides long as she rushes forward. The figure steps back from her friend, and Paige vaguely recognizes her as one of the members of the girls volleyball team.

“What?!” Azzi fires back, stopping Paige in her tracks.

“What are you doing? Who is this?”

“I’m talking to a friend.” Paige fights the familiar twist in her stomach at the sight of Azzi’s hand on the other girl’s arm. “Is that okay with you? Or are you the only one allowed to flirt with every woman who throws themselves at you?”

Paige feels like she’s been punched in the gut. She sees a hint of regret on Azzi’s face before she turns her head away.

The stranger looks like she would rather be anywhere else, and Paige would be more embarrassed if she wasn’t so focused on Azzi.

“I’ll see you in class, Azzi?” When Azzi gives a jerky nod in response, the girl takes her leave, giving Paige a cold look as she goes.

Azzi’s eyes are glassy, her cheeks obviously flushed even under the dim lights. She takes a heaving breath, face turned away while she clearly fights tears, and Paige hates that she is the reason for her best friend’s pain.

“Az-” Her hands reach up to find their usual place at Azzi’s waist, but she freezes when Azzi flinches away from her. Her fists clench as she drops them at her side.

“Am I not enough?”

“What?” Paige chokes out. The thought is inconceivable. She reaches out again, grasping at where Azzi has wrapped her arms around herself.

Azzi still isn’t looking her in the eye.

“Azzi, come on.” Paige sighs in relief when Azzi allows her touch, hands warm against the skin exposed by her crop top.

Azzi’s eyes brim with tears. “Can we just forget I said anything?”

That’s when Paige knows something really might be wrong. Azzi is always the one pulling her out of her shell when she’s upset, and she wasn’t usually one to hide her own feelings.

“It’s just us. Me and you.” Paige brings one hand up to cup her jaw and brings their gazes together. “Talk to me. We promised that we’d always talk to each other.”

Azzi takes a deep, steadying breath. And then another.

“I know that we agreed when you came here that we’d pull back and keep it more casual.”

You wanted that! Paige wants to say, but she can’t deny that she took advantage of it, loved it at times even. She can’t deny that sometimes it was nice to be able to talk to, flirt with, and kiss girls who didn’t hold the power to crush her with one word.

But none of those girls ever made her feel even half of how Azzi did, like she could conquer the world if only Azzi was at her side, holding her hand.

“And I know that we decided last year that it was best for the team and for everyone if we just.. didn’t complicate things.”

She keeps it unspoken that it was never that simple, and that it had tested their relationship more than ever having each other so close, but being unable to really be together the way they both hoped the other wanted. And then the season had ended with that devastating loss, and neither of them had had the emotional capacity to deal with all of it.

And then her ACL had happened, and just when Paige had thought that she couldn’t be forced any lower, there was Azzi. Azzi, who had just shown up to hold her, and let her yell and cry, and not be okay, for once.

It still sucks, and there are days where she’s so desperate to play that she cries, but she’s not alone in it. She’ll never be alone again, not as long as she has Azzi. And she knows now, sure as anything, that Azzi is all she’ll ever want.

“I thought something had changed between us this summer, and I’ve been waiting for you to be ready, to tell me you were ready.”

Paige feels like this is a conversation she has been waiting to have for a very long time.

“Do you know what my first thought was the first time I saw you? ”

Azzi huffs in frustration. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you shoot a basketball for the first time, and thought, damn, I have to play with her, and then I did, and it was better than I even imagined it would be. Then I got to sit next to you on that plane, and got to really know you, and then I knew that I just wanted you in my life forever. So don’t ever think that you’re not enough. You’re all I’ve wanted since I was sixteen years old.”

Azzi’s eyes shimmer with tears, but the smile on her face is radiant. Paige tugs her even closer by the waist until Azzi hooks her arms around her shoulders.

“I wish I was as good with words as you are,” Azzi says, pressing their foreheads together. “I wish I could tell you what you mean to me.”

But Paige doesn’t need Azzi to say it. She can feel it in the way Azzi’s heart pounds against her chest where they are pressed together. She can see it in the way her lips tremble like they’re about to kiss for the first time.

And she can feel it in the way Azzi presses their lips together, like she never wants to stop, like breathing matters less than kissing her.

Paige is unzipping her luggage when her phone rings with a Facetime call from KK. She taps accept and as the screen fills with an image, she realizes it isn’t a normal call.

The angle is askew and the camera is out of focus showing a gym with a few figures in the distant background. Somehow KK must’ve accidentally called her. She hears KK’s voice loud and clear joking around with someone with an Australian accent. She smiles, happy that her little freshman is getting along with everyone at the Dawg Camp. She almost hangs up the call when the camera focuses itself and the figures in the background become clear.

They’re a bit far away, but Paige would recognize that form anywhere. Azzi stands at the opposite court putting up shots, though her feet stay planted on the ground. Her stroke is still smooth as butter though, and she’s so strong that the shots swish through the net even if she can’t get off the ground yet.

Someone’s under the net, someone tall with dirty blonde hair, rebounding for Azzi, and she says something, too quiet for Paige to hear from this far away, but she does hear Azzi’s responding laugh.

The sound, one of Paige’s favorite sounds, one that normally never fails to bring a smile to Paige’s face, instead sends an uncontrollable roll of unease through her gut.

She knows it’s irrational, to still get jealous when someone else makes Azzi smile. She’s never been more secure in their relationship than she is now, but apparently that jealous part of her is still alive as she squints down angrily at her phone, watching fucking Kate Martin?! standing way too close to her girl.

“What the hell?” She mutters, and then the phone is moving and KK’s face fills the screen.

“Oh, what the? P. Boogers! My bad, how long have you been on my phone?”

“Kamorea!”

KK jumps from the unexpected growl in Paige’s voice. “Damn what’s gotten up your butt? Say hi to Georgia.”

“Hi,” Paige says, brusquely. She swipes the FaceTime to the corner of the screen, tapping open Instagram and navigating to Azzi’s profile.

“Jeez, tough crowd.” She hears Georgia say as she taps on Azzi’s following, scoffing when she sees Azzi’s most recent follow.

“Dude, lemme talk to Azzi.”

“Y’all fightin’ or somethin’? She seemed all goofy after she talked to you last night.” KK thinks for a second. “Oh was it because you were cheesin’ at those dancers?”

“What?” Paige sputters. “I was just being polite!”

“Mm, sure.”

“Whatever, just let me talk to her, bro come on.” Paige nods, impatiently.

KK rolls her eyes, but still walks down the court. “Azzi,” she calls out. “Dumbass on the line for you.”

Paige watches Azzi’s face come into focus, first looking confused before a smile blooms on her face, dimple creasing her cheek.

“Babe, hey.”

Paige feels all the uncertainty and jealousy just fade away at the sight of that smile.

“Hey,” she replies, softly.

“Did something happen?” Azzi’s brow creases with worry, and she walks a bit away so they can speak in a more private spot.

“No,” Paige lies, suddenly embarrassed about how much she overreacted. “I just miss you.”

“Paige.” Azzi's smile grows even wider. “You called KK to tell her how much you missed me? You just saw me like two days ago.”

“Well, she pocket dialed me, and I saw you, so-” She cuts herself off. “Yeah.”

“I miss you too, dummy.”

Azzi’s smile is softer now, the sight of it fills Paige’s chest with warmth, so different from the mess of emotions she felt just minutes ago. Azzi has always been that for Paige, her safe place, her peace, her home.

Paige hears the noise in the background pick up and Azzi looks up, past the camera.

“You gotta go?”

“I’ll call you later?”

“You better.” Paige smirks and Azzi rolls her eyes fondly.

“Okay, I gotta go.”

“Wait,” Azzi pauses with a finger over the screen. “Is Martin still there?”

Azzi looks confused, but she still calls out, “Kate!”

Kate appears over Azzi’s shoulder, looking slightly puzzled at being summoned, but with a friendly smile anyways. “Hey, Paige.”

“Hey, how are ya?”

“Good, happy to be here, you know? Just taking it all in. Azzi’s been really nice about helping me actually. Since she’s been here before.” Kate smiles at Azzi, who returns it.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great, huh?” Paige winks and Azzi snorts softly. But then she says, voice serious, “Keep an eye on her for me, would ya? She doesn’t like to ask for help for herself sometimes.”

“You got it, Paige. Good to see you.” Kate jogs off to join the others in the now starting scrimmage.

When Paige looks back to Azzi, she almost blushes at the look in her eye.

“You’re always taking care of me.”

“Well, I kinda love you a little, so.” Paige scratches the bridge of her nose, feeling bashful all of a sudden.

“I kinda love you a little too.”

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi

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plussizefantasia · 2 days

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Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest.

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you.

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment.

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.”

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?”

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that.

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife.

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time.

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference.

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?”

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?”

“Our first meeting My Lord.”

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise.

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

#anthony bridgerton x plus size reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #x reader #fanfic #bridgerton fanfiction #plus size reader #plus size!reader #drabble #requests open #requests wanted #bridgerton

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blkdaddie · 3 days

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The Doctor's House Calls

Story tags: PG-13, Fluff, Interracial, Age Gap, Mpreg, Gay Romance

I was raised in the deep south, where family is everything. I’m the youngest of 8, all boys. So when Mama got sick wasn’t no girls to take care of her, and I promised to stay by her side. My brothers were all off starting their own families and businesses and such, and couldn’t send but so much money home. Not enough to get a nurse more than a coupla times a week. So I got a little job doing landscaping for the town; nothing exciting but I get to be outside and got a nice little pension waiting. Rest of the time it was just me and Mama.

When she took a turn our family doctor said I needed to take her to a specialist over in the city, a young buck straight out of school and still wet behind the ears. He didn’t look old enough to tie his own shoes but Mama took to him straight off and wouldn’t see anyone else. It was a long ride back and forth, few times a month. So when her doctor offered to come do a house call I sho nuff said yes. With the price of gas these days and such, it was a blessing. So Dr. Nate - he tol’ me call him Dr. Nate- started coming up to see Mama on the regular. But each time he came a little earlier and stayed a little later. He was new to the area, said he didn’t know nobody and liked our company. He helped a lot, and getting on almost 60 years old, my bad knees were grateful. We was so thankful I started inviting him to stay for dinner, and when peach season came I made a cobbler. He said it was the best thing he’d ever eaten and I had some talented hands. Such a silly thing, don’t know why it made my cheeks hot.

Even still, I never thought ‘bout Dr. Nate coming ‘round so much but Mama started fussing at me to brush my hair and put on a clean shirt before his visits. I was mighty surprised that night I was washing dishes while he got Mama settled and he came right up behind me and kissed my neck! I ‘bout dropped the gravy boat. You see, I been with some of the faster girls in the town when I was younger, but wasn’t no woman trying to date a man with a momma to take care of round the clock. Figured my romancin' days was behind me.

So I whirled round and said “Now see here, I ain’t no sissy!” And don’t you know that man grinned dead in my face and said “No, you’re all man.” And grabbed me right through my levi’s. Well it had been a while and his hand felt so good, maybe I didn’t protest as much as I should have. He really took liberties and started kissin’ me but good. Tasted like peach cobbler. And him being a doctor and all, when he said he wanted to give me an anatomy lesson about the prostate, I was curious. Well we got to having more lessons and next thing you know, I’m getting swole. Sure took me by surprise but Mama said children are a blessing. She passed quietly in her sleep when I was about 4 months gone. Seemed silly rattlin’ around this big old house by myself so Nate moved in, said he don't mind the commute if it means coming home to me.

I been thinkin’ about retirement, been 40 years on the job and it’s getting hard with a big ol’ belly. Nate thinks I should stay home anyhow; he wants at least 4 more kids and we’ll have to do it fast before I’m too old.

Mama said birthin' is a natural as breathin' and ain't no reason for big hospitals so I delivered at home way it's s'posed to be. Nate got a taste of being a country doctor. He did a real good job taking care of me, real good indeed.

He’s aiming for a houseful. It’s what Mama would want.

#pregnant man #mpreg #mpreg story #mpreg art #mpreg birth #mpreg belly #pregnant dad #gay story #gay romance

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canmom · 2 days

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dog day

went down to a local queer film thingy today and saw Dog Day Afternoon, in which Al Pacino plays attempted bank robber John Wojtowicz (nicknamed 'Sonny' in the film) who in 1972 ended up running a hostage situation and siege he really didn't intend to be in - someone who's a bit of a cause célèbre in these parts because honestly what's more iconic than robbing a bank to pay for your trans wife's bottom surgery?

(this is the real Wojtowicz during the event)

as a movie it's absolutely really solid. Pacino definitely does a fantastic job giving us a sympathetic portrayal of the increasingly harried Sonny trying to juggle all the competing elements of the robbery - reassuring his partner Sal, negotiating with the cops outside, managing the hostages. on a pure narrative level, it's a great screenplay, both full of escalating tension and capturing the humour of the unlikely camaraderie that forms between the robbers and their hostages. they get a lot out of the contrast between mundane concerns (not swearing) and the extreme situation, and it generally works really well.

the film portrays Sonny accidentally stumbling into being a folk hero - his televised calls in which he mentions the Attica massacre, and interactions with the crowd outside, becoming central the narrative that forms around the attempted robbery. it's compelling stuff even today - indeed the whole sensibility of it, the sympathetic bi and trans characters, the sympathy for all the characters, felt very modern.

speaking of, not really quite knowing the timespan of Al Pacino's career (I've still seen very few of his movies), I kinda assumed this movie would have been made, say, a couple decades after the robbery. so I was very impressed with how well it nailed the 70s period aesthetic... which turns out to be for a very simple reason, this movie was made in 1975, just three years after the events it portrays. which is wild to me, don't filmmakers normally wait a bit for it to be less 'the news' before they fictionalise the events? anyway it was a big deal in its day, scooping up a bunch of oscars.

this makes it quite interesting to look back because it really is a slice of how people felt about shit back in the 70s - as edited by the filmmakers of course, but every sentiment in this film is a genuine 70s sentiment by definition, right? the justified distrust of the police, the highly political gay angle, that's all shit we're hashing out today still. all these characters feel very much like real people out of their depth, and it's interesting to read about the process of filming it involving a fair amount of improvised elaboration.

anyway that all has the fascinating consequence that Wojtowicz was alive and watched the movie made about him. apparently there was a whole campaign to get the film screened for Wojtowicz in prison, which meant he could make a critique of it. as a result, he could write to the newspaper criticising their portrayal (via wikipedia). evidently the filmmakers took quite some liberties for drama - Wojtowicz calls it 'about 30% accurate'.

for example they portray him as still having been with his cis wife 'Angie' (irl, Carmen) at the time of the robbery, and add a fictionalised meeting with his mother where she is dismissive of Angie for weight etc., suggesting that it's somehow her fault that Sonny should go and do something as unseemly as have a relationship with a trans woman. as I took it, it's a portrayal of his mother's prejudice which the film broadly rejects - but in any case, all of that was just straight-up made up for the film, presumably because of the drama that the trans wife vs cis wife angle brings. in reality it seems that Wojtowicz separated from Carmen two years before the robbery, and he disputes her characterisation in the film (he's actually quite rude about the actress who portrays her, who to me looked like a regular-ass woman).

A third scene shows me speaking to my female wife, Carmen, on the telephone. (The actress who portrays her in the movie is an ugly and greasy looking women with a big mouth, when in real life my wife is beautiful and very loving wife.) I did try to call her, but the F.B.I. cut the phone lines and air conditioning before I could get to speak to her on the line. I did not like the horrible way they tried to make her the blame or the scapegoat for everything that happened, especially because of the Gay aspects involved. (...) First, the actress playing my wife, Carmen, made her look horrible and inferred that I left her and winded up in the arms of a Gay man because of her. This is completely untrue, and I feel sorry for the actress for having to play such a horrible role.

this is perhaps something of an aspect where values drift between when the film was made and the present. to us the idea that 'cis woman is ugly/unloving so guy is gay' is just laughable homophobic nonsense, something that the mother or the unfortunate estranged wife might believe but clearly not true - but Wojtowicz apparently felt that was a plausible editorial angle being suggested by the film, which he needed to correct.

but honestly it's Sonny's partner Sal who truly gets the short end of the portrayal stick here. he is pretty much set up with death flags from the early on - he's got greasy hair, he's taciturn, glowering, religious, kinda ignorant, and the one who's actually willing to go through with killing the hostages - in contrast to the charismatic, beleagured Sonny who definitely is framed as being in over his head and not likely to actually do it.

so when Sal's killed abruptly at the end of the film it's essentially framed as tragic but kinda inevitable, the only way they were going to get him to stand down. according to Wojtowicz, he was actually already immobilised when the FBI killed him, and Wojtowicz disputes that it was necessary to kill him.

the only photo I have of the real Salvator Naturile is a grainy police mugshot which is inevitably far from flattering! in this portrait he has somewhat similar hair to his film portrayal but the actor in the film is 39-year-old John Cazale.

the film has the main FBI goon (truly the most FBI looking FBI goon you've ever seen) warn Sonny that they're going to kill Sal; Sonny hides this from Sal as the group make their way to the airport in the bus he demanded, allowing Sal to be tricked into lowering his weapon so the FBI can suddenly kill him and arrest Sonny. the way the film suggests it played out, Sonny implicitly figures out that flying to maybe Algeria was not really on the cards, but makes an effort to keep the ball rolling all the same, to stop Sal from killing anyone and perhaps from some delusional doublethink hope they'll all manage to fly away in the end.

the real Wojtowicz was pretty appalled at this implication. he writes:

Now to one of the most despicable parts of the film. In it they hint very dramatically that I made some kind of a deal to betray my partner, Sal. It hurt me that the same F.B.I. who cold-bloodedly killed an 18-year-old boy can be depicted as having me help then. This is not true and there is no human being low enough in this world who would let the F.B.I. kill his partner in order for him to survive. It can be labeled as just Hollywood trying to sell a movie or just to increase the drama, but I call it sick.

Wojtowicz's trans wife Elizabeth Eden is portrayed in the film with a male name 'Leon', by Chris Sarandon. As I read it at the screening, the film portrays a time the line between 'gay' and 'trans' was far less clear-cut; Sonny is declared a 'homosexual' for his relationship with 'Leon', and refers to her with male pronouns despite calling her his wife. This appears broadly to be accurate: in Wojtowicz's letter, he refers to Eden as Ernie, and calls her his 'male lover'. He praises Chris Sarandon's performance, writing:

I feel he did it perfectly. If in real life Ernie had said those things and done those actions, he would have done them exactly as Chris did them. In the telephone scene between Pacino and himself his performance was unfathomable and a tribute to his mastery of an unbelievably difficult role. I was moved to tears by it because the realism was there and so professionally done.

the film paints 'Leon' as not supporting the robbery and actually wishing to escape from the increasingly erratic and violent Sonny - there's a compelling scene where they speak on the phone while the cops tune in. but is any of that actually true? Wojtowicz doesn't defend himself from any of that portrayal in the letter beyond briefly saying that 'some of what they both said ... were true statements of facts', even though they weren't discussed during the actual robbery.

all these inaccuracies notwithstanding, some good did come of the film for the main couple. consistent with Wojtowicz's stated intent, the film portrays Sonny as motivated in large part by paying for Leon's bottom surgery (in the film they call it a 'sex change operation', and the suggestion seems to be that Leon will only be a woman after that), and a scene near the end sees Sonny dictating. in reality, the filmmakers paid Wojtowicz $7500 for the use of his story (though he says they had agreed to give him more and did not honour that deal), and he used some of that money to pay for the real Elizabeth Eden's bottom surgery so... in a sense robbing a bank does pay, if you do it in a stylish enough way to get a movie made of you!

looking back on this whole thing nearly 50 years after the event... both the main characters portrayed in it are dead. Elizabeth Eden died during the AIDS crisis in the mid 80s - by that point Wojtowicz was out of prison and was able to give her a eulogy. Wojtowicz himself made it to 60, dying of cancer in 2006. both seem to have lead pretty regular lives. and now what remains is this movie, which found in their lives a suitably dramatic 125 minutes of screen time, where they could both come to represent something bigger.

most films I tend to watch depict entirely fictional events, so it's interesting watching a film which purports to portray something real. I end up thinking about all the ways in which turning it into film makes it artificial, simplifies people into characters. the way camera angles and lighting are arranged to inform us of a character's emotional state. the way the chaotic events are organised into a series of arcs of rising and falling tension, the rhythms of tense confrontations on the street and quiet moments inside the bank, the sense of space it creates between the outside (full of crowds and cops with guns where every movement is risky) and inside (where people can, ironically, play around with guns or have mundane medical problems). everything gradually escalating as new problems arise and their consequences play out - and all the boring hours of the robbery are elided, but still suggested by the changing costumes and lighting.

sifting through the chaos of life and making narrative out of it is what films do of course, and this film does it better than most, but it's weird to think about that. to try and imagine what it would be like to have a film made out of me, what dramatic choices they would make. biopics of 'great people' are well established, but this is a film about pretty ordinary people who did something kinda crazy once, and about the systems that they acted within.

very interesting movie, definitely holds up very well, much to think about. big shoutout to Small Trans Library for screening it, really looking forward to whatever they have for us next in a couple weeks.

#film #dog day afternoon

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