#fake ob tag

[frankensteined]

file under "things i had completely forgotten about"

[liebelesbe]

fucking. piece of shit doctor. asshole.

"Also das ist schwierig mit Ihnen... Also da kommt von Ihnen halt echt gar nichts. Wollen Sie nicht dass es Ihnen besser geht? Wie, Sie meinen es gibt gegen die Krankheit nichts?Ja, also, wenn Sie so eingestellt sind... Sie sind jetzt wirklich schon sehr lange krankgeschrieben. Also mich würde das ja wahnsinnig machen immer nur zu Hause zu sein. Und diesen Termin den Sie abgesagt haben... wissen Sie eigentlich wie schwierig es ist den zu bekommen (er hat ihn nicht selber vereinbart. das war ne andere Ärztin). Also dass Sie da nicht erschienen sind... Echt schwierig."

<- nicht genau in der Reihenfolge aber alles Zitate von heute

[tennessoui]

ok no no yall don’t share my vision clearly enough look look look

(1.6k, based on the scene in the original tags where they’re undercover and obi-wan gets drunk and accidentally talks about when he really fell in love with anakin instead of the cover story)

The target gets comfortable on the other side of the booth, one thick arm holding up his head while the other stretches over the top of the booth to tug at the ends of Obi-Wan’s hair, as if he has any right to.

Obi-Wan leans his head up to soak in the touch. The only thing that keeps Anakin on this side of the table is the fact that Obi-Wan had told him in a very no-nonsense sort of tone that he was going to allow the target to touch him all he wanted. It would ingratiate him to their target, to be receptive to the older man’s flirting.

Even though he was supposed to be married to Anakin during this mission. Even though if he were married to Anakin, actually married, there’s no way Anakin would allow another creature to put their hands on him. There’s no way Obi-Wan would be sat across the booth from Anakin, six drinks in with rosy cheeks and speaking comfortably from someone else’s arms. If Obi-Wan were really his spouse, he’d have an arm around him all night in a place as filled with lust and lingering eyes as this cantina is.

Obi-Wan’s foot wraps around his beneath the table, his eyes finding and holding his with a lopsided smile. It’s a warning, Anakin knows it is, even though one of the target’s companions lets out a crooning noise at the sight.

“Careful, Rusal,” she says, “looks like the little husband is getting jealous.”

Anakin is a jealous person by nature, taught to hold carefully onto everything he’s been given with both hands gripped tight and teeth bared. The Jedi never could teach it out of him.

Though he won’t be a Jedi for much longer anyway, he reminds himself, blinking down at the drink in front of him. After this mission ends, when he’s finished playing pretend at being the jealous husband of Obi-Wan Kenobi, he will return his fake marriage band to the Council.

He will trade it in for the real version he keeps in his wife’s quarters. That will be the end of that.

It’s strange. He never thought he had a bad memory, but looking at the wedding band on his finger—bronze, the color of Kenobi’s hair, with a small blue stone set in the middle—he cannot remember what his actual wedding band looks like. He thinks it’s silver, but it could be gold. Padmé had picked them out. His was her father’s; hers came from some artisan on Naboo.

He wonders where the Council got these. His is nice; Obi-Wan’s is as well, a slightly thicker band of gold with the same blue stone. He hadn’t thought the Council would pay so much attention to the small details of their cover story.

He hadn’t really realized Obi-Wan would either, but the other man had memorized pages upon pages of facts about the pair of them and their supposed relationship. Why they had come out to the Outer Rim, how they met, when they got married.

The files never said anything about Obi-Wan’s character Ben getting cuddly with the local gambling gang ruler, but anything for a mission.

And knowing Obi-Wan, anything for a fuck, Anakin thinks rather uncharitably. He pushes his empty drink out of his way. Already, there’s another in its place. Obi-Wan may well be on his seventh as well, rosy pink lips wrapped around his straw as he gazes up in some terribly awestruck manner at the fucking target.

He used to look at me like that, Anakin thinks, even though he isn’t quite sure it’s true. Maybe once or twice when they were padawans together, after the hatred went away and they pushed themselves closer together until they began to grow like trees intertwined at the trunks. Maybe then, a few times, Obi-Wan had looked at him in that way, like he hung the stars in the galaxy.

Padmé, his actual wife, looks at him like that.

The reminder does not fill the empty spot in his chest. He wants, quite suddenly, what he’s been fighting for since he was a new padawan, still with grains of sand pressed into his thin boots. He wants Obi-Wan’s attention.

“Ben,” he says across the length of the table, but he may as well have been still at the Jedi Temple for all Obi-Wan hears him.

“Aw, Rusal, give the boy back to his little husband,” the same lackey from before says, fingers tapping at the tabletop. Rusal looks over at her and then back at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan has moved so much closer. He could practically put his head on Rusal’s chest.

If he were actually Anakin’s husband, he would—

“Fine,” Rusal says like it’s the greatest chore in the galaxy to take his hands off of Anakin’s husband. Anakin’s hand tightens around his drink and he glares at him then at the table. 

Obi-Wan pouts but slides out of the booth, wriggling his body over two of Rusal’s friends’ laps to free himself. Anakin scowls harder, glaring down every karking asshole on that side of the table. If Obi-Wan were actually his husband—

Obi-Wan sits down on Anakin’s lap, nuzzling a burning face into his neck. Anakin’s hands let go of his drink automatically to wrap around his partner’s waist keeping him secure on his lap.

“Aw,” Rusal says, eyes half-lidded as he watches them. He’s watching them and Obi-Wan must know it because he presses a kiss to Anakin’s throat, right over the prominent bump. “Nothing sweeter than a pair of newly-weds all curled up together, huh, Cesti?” The woman beside him grins. “Lovebirds,” she says, using her blaster to push Obi-Wan’s half-finished drink over to him. “Tell me how you two fell in love, Ben.”

“Dunno,” Obi-Wan shrugs loosely, moving his face as he sits up only partially, still draped over Anakin’s lap. “I mean. I hated him for the longest time.”

Anakin stills. That’s not part of their cover story.

“So much,” Obi-Wan agrees with himself. “He made me cry once, do y’know that?”

He’s talking to Anakin. Anakin’s heart is in his throat, his gut all twisted up. “Ben,” he warns. Maybe if he says Obi-Wan’s undercover name, he will realize where they are. He will stop telling these gangsters secrets he has not even told Anakin.

“More than once,” Obi-Wan says, looking down at Anakin’s face with hazy eyes. “But he made me laugh too. He always made me laugh, even when he was being horrible and…and uncivilized. And then one day, we were…arguing by a…pool. And I pushed him in. And he grabbed my ankle and pulled me in afterwards. And he said, ‘If I’m going to be in here, you’ll be in here too.’ And I realized that’s all I really wanted. Just to be with him. Wherever.”

Obi-Wan blinks at Anakin. Anakin stares back, mouth dry. 

That’s not in the cover story. That…that really happened. They’d been, Sith’s hells, Anakin can’t remember. They’d been…all of seventeen, friends for the most part. Obi-Wan had been upset that Anakin’s saber design looked so much like his, a fight they’d had so often that they could go through the motions in their sleep. He can’t remember why they’d been arguing about it once more, but it had ended with Obi-Wan pushing him into one of the sacred Temple fountains. Anakin had used the Force to pull him in as well, intent on getting him in just as much trouble as he would be in if they were caught.

That was it. That was all that happened.

Obi-Wan hadn’t…he hadn’t really fallen in love with Anakin afterwards. Anakin would have noticed. Obi-Wan couldn’t have fallen in love with him then, because the next day he went off to Mandalore for a whole kriffing year, and it was only upon his return they became inseparable. He wouldn’t have abandoned Anakin if he loved him. He wouldn’t have jumped out of that fountain like a startled loth-cat if he loved him. He would have stayed and convinced Anakin to love him in return. It would have been so easy, after all. Anakin had harbored a nasty, self-flagellating obsession for the other boy since he first arrived at the Temple. Back then at seventeen, he would have been so easy to coax into love, had Obi-Wan really loved him then.

Maybe Obi-Wan was just too drunk to remember the cover story.

That must be it.

“Baby,” Anakin says quietly, “pass me my drink, would you?”

It’s a good test. A sober Obi-Wan never fails to flush red in anger and stammer out a reproach when Anakin calls him baby and orders him around. He’s hated it since the start of this mission.

Now, Obi-Wan’s face goes red and blotchy, but he shivers. His eyes are hazy, his pupils dilated. He leans over to the table and grabs Anakin’s drink, giving it to him while looking at him beneath his eyelashes. So drunk then. Absolutely wasted.

“How was the wedding?” Cesti coos, probably because Anakin’s husband is the prettiest and cutest thing this side of the galaxy.

Obi-Wan’s mouth drops open as he licks his lips. He’s staring down at Anakin’s hand. His wedding band Obi-Wan had given him from the Council for this mission. “Better than anything I ever imagined,” Obi-Wan says. “And more than I ever thought I’d get.”

Anakin finishes his drink in two swallows and raises his hand for another. He cannot—he doesn’t—he’s a mess, his mind hurts, his husband is beautiful, he’s in love, he’s—

—-------

In the morning, he wakes to a pounding headache and an empty bed, save for the barest ghost of a memory he can’t quite recall. Except it was important. He remembers that. He remembers thinking it was the most important thing he’d ever heard in his life.

brain will not let me sleep until I say

same age padawans au where they’ve been in a weird wired frenemies thing for ages but now that they’re both mature adults (all of 24/25 years old) they’re more friends than enemies….

And it’s Obi-Wan that Anakin tells when he’s decided he’s going to leave the Order, not anyone else. He has a wife. There was a pregnancy scare a few weeks ago and it made her want their relationship to stop being a secret so they could really have kids. He has to leave the Order. Doesn’t Obi-Wan understand?

Obi-Wan, who has been a little in love with Anakin since they were younglings, does not understand. Not one bit. Instead of wishing him well and helping him pack, he goes to the Council and requests a mission in the Outer Rim….perhaps a month long or more…perhaps undercover? No contact with anyone on Coruscant. And maybe they could assign Anakin Skywalker as his back up? He can help with the undercover aspect.

And at first, Anakin is pissed because he was planning to resign from the Order in the next few days, but Obi-Wan convinces him to go on this mission with him….one last mission as a Jedi. To say goodbye to the Jedi life.

Obviously, Obi-Wan sort of wants to go on one last mission with Anakin because in his dreams, he wants the mission to go so perfectly that Anakin stays with him the Order. But realistically, he mostly wants to go on this mission to say goodbye to Anakin and then let him go, soaking up all his warmth and light, memorizing every casual touch bestowed on him because he knows they’re ticking down to the last handful of seconds together.

But then obviously the mission works TOO well and Anakin falls in love with Obi-Wan but doesn’t admit to it even to himself before they’re on the ship about to head back to Coruscant and Anakin realizes he doesn’t want to leave this planet because he doesn’t want to leave Obi-Wan if it could always be like this so he crashes the ship during take off so they can stay longer because he’s 24 and doesn’t know how to handle the immensity of his love except through destruction

[bidisasterevankinard]

Tease tidbit Tuesday

I was tagged by @perfectlysunny02 💙

ok, so I should write other fics but this angst idea was born. meet titled(wtf?) fic "He's your forever (sometimes I wish it was me)", where Eddie pines over pregnant Buck who's happily dates Tommy and expects their baby (don't worry Eddie'll be happy eventually too)(More likely this fic is one of the part of mpreg series I plan)

Buck cooks the breakfast in crop top, and Eddie can't stop his eyes and mind wander to the little bump he's showing off with his choice of clothes. Tommy and Chris are still sleeping, so Eddie lets himself this moment of weakness when he knows no one will see him. He doesn't want anyone to catch him ogling his best friend's pregnant body, and precious little bump, that he's sure he can hold in his palm and it will fit pretty snugly. He doesn't need anyone to ask him why he's looking so fiercely. He definitely doesn't want to lie because he knows he won't convince anyone. But the truth is something Eddie will take to the grave with him.

No one will ever find out that he wishes he was staying in his kitchen with pregnant Buck and only Chris still sleeping in the house. No one will ever know he wishes Tommy wasn't so good for Buck and Buck is so in love with him. No one will ever judge him that even though he's incredibly happy for Buck and Tommy and excited to meet his godkid, he wishes it was not baby Kinard, but baby Diaz Buck growing with his body.

But it's not. 

"Can you start setting the table and then wake boys?" Buck asks, not taking his attention from pancakes and Eddie hums in affirmation, readily taking the chance to stop being so miserable pining over a man who was never his. Especially not in the house Buck and Tommy just moved together right before sharing happy news about how soon their family will grow.

"Morning," Tommy's hoarse voice cuts the silence of the kitchen, and Eddie nods and fakes a smile to his friend before Tommy gets all his attention to Buck, kissing him as if he's the most precious thing he has ever seen. He puts his hand on Buck's belly, whispering something to the man. Eddie feels sick how perfectly the bump and Tommy’s palm go together. As puzzle pieces.

Buck smiles and kisses Tommy again, "don't worry, our baby was pretty kind to me tonight. Barely any nausea."

Nodding with a smile, Tommy kisses his birthmark and hugs Buck's waist. Humming the song Eddie doesn't know, Tommy sways them a little as an impromptu slow dance. It makes Buck smile so brightly Eddie wishes he had ever seen that smile at him. He never did. It's Tommy's smiles. His boyfriend puts it on Buck's face. Not him. It never belonged to him. As Buck never did.

Taking deep breaths in and out, Eddie quickly puts the last plate and almost runs to the guest room. He needs a moment to get himself together and trying to get a grumpy sassy teen to wake up is a good way to forget how the man he loves so much has a beautiful morning with his boyfriend. Not with him.

Eddie hears pieces of their conversation coming from the kitchen. He hears talking about possible nursery colors and what renovations they need to do. He hears Buck saying the date and time of his next appointment with OB and Tommy’s the most gentle voice promises to be here for Buck and their baby.

He shakes his head and runs to the bathroom. He needs cold water. He needs some time for himself. To think only about good. About how happy his friends are. Reprimanding himself for being awful to their happiness, Eddie enters the room where Chris still snores peacefully, not knowing what a battle his dad has in his heart.

Np tagging @bewilderedbuckley @wikiangela @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @devirnis @bigfootsmom @bi-buckrights @queerbuck @queerdiaz @watchyourbuck @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @racerchix21 @kinrdevan @theotherbuckley @theweewooshow @thatmexisaurusrex @powersuitup @pirrusstuff @saybiwithme @diazheartsbuckley @monsterrae1 @cal-daisies-and-briars @bekkachaos @lavenderleahy @leashybebes and anyone who wants to

[otakubimbo]

Checkmate

Yukuza Sukuna x F!Reader

Ch 2: Fool's Mate

You and the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna have come face to face with each other. What will you think of him? What does he think of you?

OB Note: Sorry, this has taken so long, I've been going through emotional turmoil while also getting settled into my new job but hopefully we will be on a better schedule. Ask if you would like to be tagged in the next one. Mwah!

masterlist

previous chapter | next chapter

Sukuna realized that if he wanted something done right, he would have to do it himself. There was no way that getting information on or from you would be so difficult, you were just a civilian girl after all. That’s what led him to go to where you play chess with all those old men, he didn’t want to scare you off by approaching you in one of the more secluded spots that you inhabit occasionally.

Even if Toji failed, he knew that he wouldn’t. He was the King of Curses after all, the most feared man in the Japanese underground and incredibly handsome and charming on top of that. Assuming this would be easy when you spot your stall as you approach your usual group. That was until your eyes narrowed and a scowl appeared on your face as if you were disgusted with his appearance. Huh, so this is what Fushiguro meant when he said that you were immediately unimpressed. But he still assumed this would be easy, due to how the old men talked about you.

They spoke as if you were sunlight itself, a delicate flower in the cracks of a city sidewalk. The men referred to you as their ‘sunshine’.

“Hey there sunshine,” His voice smoothed, laced with confidence as you approached the group. He had a lazy smirk on his face as the old men started to goad you into playing a match with him.

This used to be a pastime of his before he became the head of the family, now he didn’t have time for such trivial things as playing a game of chess. It was a game of strategy that required foresight and the ability to make quick decisions. These were important skills to have when you were the head of a yakuza family.  He had already beaten the old men at the table, which won them over quicker than he expected by the reports he got from his men with how standoffish they were with them.

This was going to be easy. He was going to make you comfortable enough with him to tell you everything about that compound you visit every day. He always got what he wanted, and what he wanted was whatever information you had that would stop the damn Zennins from continuing to push into his territory without having to go to an all-out war.

As you sat across from you, you looked irritated at his intrusion but put on a fake smile to appease the uncles you play with daily.  

“Sure, I’ll play him” You respond directly to them not even acknowledging the pink-haired man's presence in front of you. This was your one time to just relax and not have any thoughts but now here comes a man trying to ruin it for you.

He was disgustingly handsome and the tattoos that adorned his face didn’t help with how attractive he already was. Although, he carried himself with a self-assurance that irritated you. Just like a man. But maybe he wasn’t that bad since the uncles let him sit and play, they usually scowl anyone away who tries to join them wanting to keep their ground small but someone he wormed his way into the group and quickly at that.

“I’ll go easy on you sunshine,” He says with that cocky smirk you can see on his face from your peripheral vision, making your eyes immediately roll as you turn to face him not even pretending to put on a fake smile. You scan his face and then the board, trying to decide how to play this would you play the fast and aggressive game to end this early or drag it out to undermine and humiliate him?

As you look up from the board, coming up with a few strategies on how to play this you saw the most annoying cocky smirk on his face as if he was looking down on you. That’s when you made your decision, it was going to be the latter.  A small smile graces your face as you figure out your game plan in your head on how you are going to destroy this man.

There are many misconceptions with the game of chess. Most people think that the best way of attack is to capture as many pieces as one can to allow a checkmate but that’s not true at all because it only takes one piece to check or checkmate your opponent. It is not a numbers game, it’s a game of strategy, it’s a game of knowledge of yourself and the moves of your opponent. And that’s exactly how you crushed the man in front of you.

You allowed him to capture most of your pieces, putting yourself in what he thought was a dangerous position, but that wasn’t the closest thing to the truth. You had moved pieces around the board haphazardly, or so he thought, allowing your pieces to get captured which made him careless leaving several opportunities for you to check and checkmate him. But you didn’t want an easy win, you wanted him to believe he was capable of beating you and then show him how wrong he was and that his confidence was just a facade.

He was so focused on moving his pieces toward your end of the board and capturing yours that he didn’t notice your corning his king. You had him in a position that wouldn’t allow his king to escape you had him in check and in one move in a checkmate but you waited, you would wait until y ou could really crush him. And just as he spoke those words you were waiting to hear faking a dejected look as you were cackling inside.

“Check”

The words slip form his mouth so effortlessly as he sits back, smug in the way he thinks he has you defeated. You take a deep breath in as you look up at him with a sad expression that just increases his smugness.

“So, what’s your next move sunshine?”  confidence was oozing from every single one of his pores as he looks across to you. As you exhale the breath you were holding, a devilish grin spreads on your face and you tongue slides across the bottom of your teeth.  Your hand reaches across the board as you put your queen in the checkmate position towards his king.

“Checkmate. Sunshine” You say as you get up, proud of yourself as you see the confused look on his face as he looks at the board. If he wasn’t such an arrogant jerk this whole game, it would have been slightly attractive how his jaw tightens at the realization that he lost and from his own arrogance.

“Oh and by the way, two things.” You comment as you gather your things to leave. His eyes lock onto you as you look down at him, holding the same breath of confidence and arrogance he held earlier.

“First, I could have checked you after your first two moves, you made the most rookie mistakes in chess. The fool’s mate. Second, don’t call me sunshine.” You huff with a smirk getting ready to walk away before he calls after you. You turn your head over your shoulder, not fully facing him.

“Then what should I call you,” He asks more intrigued with you than he should be.

“Ha,” You chuckle, adjusting your tote on your shoulder, “Nothing, don’t even address me.”

That was the last thing you said to him before you walked off to where he assumed was either that café or the library. Oh you intrigued him, you really did. He never thought that someone like you would be associated with the zennins, they didn’t value women or their opinions.

Especially one not as headstrong as you seemed to be, but maybe they were making expectations, maybe they were changing. You had a brilliant mind for strategy it seemed and a dangerous mouth on you. He needed to know more about you, he needed to understand how your mind worked, he needed you. For the purpose of undermining the zennins of course, that was the only reason he was so interested in you. The only reason.

[thehollowwriter]

The Official Bio of Nkululeko Adrade

Basic Info:

Name: Nkululeko (En-koo-loo-lee-ko) Adrade

Nicknames: None yet, but some just call him Adrade or Nkulu for short

Homeland: Afterglow Savanna

Species: Sally Lightfoot Crab beastman

Birthday: 18th April

Age: 16

Height: 197cm

Dominant hand: Left

Class: 1-B

Dorm: Heartslabyul

Best subject: Conjugation

Club: Track and Field (He's very good at longjump)

Unique magic: TBA (He hasn't got his yet)

Family:

•Unnamed parent

•Unnamed siblings

•Unnamed cousins

Preferences:

Hobbies: Crafting/making things

Likes: Looking after the hedgehogs, the beach, flowers, drawing

Dislikes: Troublemakers, the cold, people who act fake

Favourite food: Nori wraps

Least favourite food: Octopus

Appearance:

Nkulu has long, waist length hair that is orange and red at the top and slowly shifts to light blue, like this:

However, unlike the picture, he has braids similar to this:

He often ties his hair in a pontail. However, he also loves to try out different hairstyles as much as he can. He has dark red eyes. His lower half is that of a Sally Lightfoot Crabs (which are aa brazilian crab!), and it is blue, black, gold, and red! Like this:

It makes him look extremely big and intimating even though he isn't. He's black (for the Americans/non-South Africans, I don't mean "not white" I mean black), tall, and very fit. He doesn't have pincers, but he does have claws.

Personality:

Nkulu is actually a very chill person. You could almost call him the stoner/surfer dude type. He gets excellent grades and is extremely dedicated to whatever he decides to do. He's honest to a fault, almost too honest, but will happily trip someone up if it benefits him. He's warm and easily excitable and always ready to try and learn new things. He's a bit of a jokester as well.

Some Fun Facts/Extra Info

•Nkululeko means "freedom" in Xhosa

•Nkulu is South African (whatever twst's equivalent is??) and one parent is Xhosa, and the other is Brazilian

•He thinks Riddle is great, especially post-OB Riddle

•He's trying to figure out his sexuality

•He's friends with Jack and Epel

•He heard Floyd call Yuu Shrimpy and told Yu with a completely straight face that he, as a crab, will have to eat them because that is the way of life. He then burst out laughing at their horrified face.

•He is extremely strong

...........................................

A/N: My other oc! Not a mer this time! I am not black, however I am South African and I thought it would be neat to have a South African oc besides Quinn ^^

Tagging: @distant-velleity @cyanide-latte @ramshacklerumble @kitwasnothere @the-banana-0verlord @officialdaydreamer00 @theleechyskrunkly @elenauaurs @jovieinramshackle @boopshoops @oya-oya-okay @whspermy-name @cynthinesia @elysia-nsimp @br3adtoasty @quartztwst

@the-trinket-witch @ghostiidasponk @natsukishinomiyaswife

[amhrosina]

Holidate (Frank Castle x fem! Reader)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST

A/N: Hi hi hi! Writing this was wild and took over my social life for a second there. This hasn’t been beta read, or edited yet (lmfao), but it’s 13k words and I’m very proud of it. Please enjoy! (Matt Murdock next????) 

Summary: Holidate – a prearranged fake date that you can bring to family holiday events to avoid awkward conversations about your love life.  

When reader realizes she’s the last single person in her family, a run-in with an old acquaintance sparks a genius idea that could get her family off her back once and for all. 

(Warnings: slow burn, pining, fake dating, brief description of a severe injury (it’s in the fourth of july section), cursing, eventual smut (p in v, oral (fem receiving)), no use of y/n, wholesome family content, Frank in a bunny suit, let me know if I missed any bc it’s 1:30am and I'm tired lmfao

New Year’s Eve: 

The bass of the club speakers pounded in your skull, sparking a fresh wave of annoyance within you. This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You were supposed to be somewhere nice, celebrating the new year with your loving and loyal boyfriend of four years, Ben. But Ben was an asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to realize he had butt dialed you while he was knee deep in “the best pussy he’s ever had”.  

You rolled your eyes at the memory. You weren’t even that upset about it – Ben had become a dull and predictable aspect of your daily routine. The spark that had ignited your affection for him had died out months before you found out he was cheating. It was a brutal wake-up call, though.  

Your life, you realized, had become entirely too comfortable, which limited your ability to grow as a human being. The few weeks without Ben leading up to New Year’s Eve had taught you a lot about yourself, but you couldn’t help feeling a little lonely when you looked around and saw happy couples everywhere. 

Your sister was happily married to her high school sweetheart. Your mom and dad were disgustingly in love with each other, even after almost 30 years together. And your idiot baby brother had chosen tonight at dinner to announce his engagement to Kim, his girlfriend of 3 months.  

After the obligatory congratulatory toasts, your mother’s attention had fallen on you. You had tried so hard to get out of the room before she could open her mouth, but your mom had spent enough time with you to know your tricks and had managed to corner you by the bathroom. 

“Sweetie, I want to introduce you to someone. My OB/GYN has a new set of interns, and one of them is very cute.”  

“You’re worried about my,” you paused for effect, “vaginal health, Mom?”  

 “No, of course not, though you should probably get it checked out after the whole Ben fiasco. I don’t even want to think about where he put his pe-” 

“Okay, thanks for that, Mom. Really. I just have to pee now.” You slid against the wall until you could grab the doorknob and slip into the bathroom, effectively shutting the door in your mom’s face. You had hidden yourself in the bathroom for 15 full minutes before finally facing your family again. Then, Sammy had the bright idea to take all the siblings out clubbing to celebrate his engagement.  

That’s how you ended up here, surrounded by sweaty, drunk partygoers who apparently had so much to celebrate. It was 10 minutes to midnight, and you were doing everything in your power to make it to the exit before you had to be surrounded by sweaty, drunk, kissing partygoers.  

The club was so packed you had barely made it five feet before you gave up your efforts, deciding to chug the rest of your drink when the clock struck midnight as your midnight kiss. You watched the dance floor from your vantage point on second floor balcony. An overwhelming presence next to you had your back stiffening.  

You turned, ready to tell the guy off, but you lost your voice somewhere between “Fuck off, buddy” and “Not interested”. You definitely knew the guy from somewhere, but you couldn’t put your finger on where that might be. His size was intimidating, and you could tell he was absolutely ripped, but his eyes weren’t those of a drunk asshole. In fact, the look on his face told you he recognized you from somewhere, too.  

“Do we know each other?” You had to yell over the music for him to hear you.  

“You don’t remember me?” He was smiling, and you knew that smile, but you couldn’t put your finger on how you knew it. You studied his face, trying to remember. Dark hair and eyes, strong eyebrows, and a big nose.  

“Oh!” You exclaimed suddenly, “You’re Eagle!” 

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?”  

“You were the TA for my Psych class, right? Like six years ago? Frank, right?” You grinned at him.  

“You do remember!” He smiled wide for a second, but quickly furrowed his eyebrows in confusion again. “What did you call me? Eagle?” 

“Oh god,” you groaned, running your hand over your face. “We used to call you that. The girls in the class, I mean. You know what they say about men with big noses?” 

Frank let out a loud laugh, throwing his head back.  

“I didn’t think anyone in those classes even knew I existed. That was the easiest job I’ve ever had. The professor wouldn’t let me do anything, and I still got paid.” 

“So, I don’t have you to thank for the A, then?” 

“Sorry, I guess you did that on your own.” He shrugged, sipping his drink and smiling. “Did you come with someone? Where’s your date?” 

You raised your cup to your mouth, gulping down a mouthful of alcohol in response.  

Frank chuckled and nodded. “Ah, I see.” 

The clock began chiming, starting the 60 second countdown to the new year.  

“Where’s your date?” 

Frank smiled and gulped down the rest of his drink, copying the response you had given him. You raised your glass, and he clinked his against yours in solidarity.  

When the countdown got to 10, you awkwardly shuffled back and forth on your feet. The couples around you were gravitating towards each other, grabbing each other’s hands and holding their drinks up in the air. You and Frank watched as the clock hit 0, silver and gold confetti floating down from the ceiling and coating the kissing couples on the dance floor.   

Your brother seemingly appeared out of nowhere, tugging his fiancé behind him.  “Hey! We’re going!”  

You nodded, turning to Frank. “I have to...” you trailed off, pointing towards your brother with your thumb, “but it was nice to see you again. Happy New Year, Frank.” 

“Yeah, I���ll see you around.” He grinned, nodding. 

You waved at him as you walked towards the exit, wondering if you’d ever see him again. Fortunately for you, you didn’t have to wonder for long.  

A few days later, you parked your car in the mall parking lot, sighing as your mother continued her rant from the passenger seat. 

“All I’m saying, sweetie, is that you should get out more. When’s the last time you left the house besides New Year’s Eve? What about one of those dating apps?” 

“I don’t want to date anyone right now, Mom. I’m trying to find myself, you know?” 

She scoffed. “Oh, please.” 

You followed her into the mall, clutching the items you had bought for Ben before the untimely death of your relationship. Your one and only plan for the rest of your week off work was to return the gifts, but your mother had insisted on going with you, claiming she had some shopping to do. You couldn’t imagine what she could possibly need this soon after Christmas, but you didn’t want to argue with her about it.  

 It took forever, but you were finally at the last store you needed to make a return at. It would’ve been an easy in and out if your mom hadn’t stopped to look at every single sweater in the store. The sound of your name being called perked you out of your thoughts. 

“When I said see you around, I didn’t realize it would be this soon after.”  

Frank walked towards you, clutching a return receipt in his hand. You waved your receipt back at him. 

“You didn’t like a gift?” You asked, eyeing the receipt.  

“Oh, uh,” Frank scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly, “No. I bought it for someone, but it didn’t end up working out.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “Wow. Same. I think we may have more in common than I thought. Same girl that left you alone on New Year's?” 

“The one and only.” He chuckled, shuffling his feet.  

The sound of your mother’s voice so close to your ear startled you. You hadn’t noticed her standing next to you. 

“Who’s this?”  

She had a devious smile on her face, and it took everything in you not to outwardly groan. 

“This is Frank. He was my-” Frank cut you off, reaching forward to shake your mom’s hand. 

“Friend in college. Nice to meet you. We were just talking about regrettable Christmas gifts.” 

“Oh!” Your mom eagerly shook his hand, sending you a wink over her shoulder. “Well, I’ve been trying to tell her she needs to get out more. You know, her boyfriend ch-” 

“I don’t think he’s interested in hearing about my love life, Mom.” This conversation derailed far too quickly for your liking. 

“Honey, I’m just trying to help. Frank is very handsome.” 

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You probably resembled a tomato more than a human being. 

“Thank you, Mom. Very helpful.” You gritted through your teeth. Your mother was nothing if not sneaky. She sent you a smirk and turned back to Frank. 

“It was lovely to meet you, Frank. I hope I’ll be getting to see more of you soon.”  

You gaped at her as she made her way back towards the cashmere sweaters, dreading having to look back at Frank. When you finally faced him, he was clearly trying hard not to laugh in your face.  

“I’m sorry,” You groaned, running your hand through your hair, “My mom can be very forward.” 

Frank let out a chuckle, shaking his head. “It’s okay. It sounds like she just wants you to be happy.” 

“She has an interesting way of showing it. I mean, being single on holidays isn’t that pathetic, right? Plenty of people are single. Like Emma Watson! She’s been single since forever and she’s thriving! Oh god, you probably don’t want to hear this either. I’m sorry. I ramble when I get nervous.” 

You regretted ever getting out of bed this morning. This was turning out to be the most embarrassing day of your life, and it wasn’t even 10am yet.  

Frank’s face had turned thoughtful. You were a little afraid to ask him what he was thinking about. 

“I have an idea,” he finally said, glancing between you and your mom, who was holding up a blue sweater and talking to an employee. 

“Okay?” You cocked your head to the side. 

“What if we dated?” Your eyes grew wide, “Just for the holidays, I mean. We show up together at events or parties and it keeps the questions at bay. Like a, um-” 

Frank searched for the right word, and you couldn’t help the word that came out of your mouth.  

“A holidate?”  

Frank snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “Exactly. A holidate. It’ll get your family off your back for a little bit, and you won’t have to worry about being single. For the day, at least.”  

You didn’t say anything for a long time, trying to fully comprehend what he was offering. 

“What’s in it for you?”  

“Same as you.” He shrugged. “My family’s like yours.” 

“And it’s just for the holidays?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“What about the smaller holidays? Like 4th of July.” 

“I’m fine with whatever you want to do about those.” 

“What if one of us meets someone we like?” 

“Then our problems are solved, right?” 

You studied him for a moment, weighing the idea in your head. You stole a glance at your mother, who was now standing out of Frank’s direct eyeline and smiling at you and Frank. 

You turned back to Frank, holding out your hand. 

“Deal.” 

The smile he gave you as he shook your hand sent a shiver down your spine. 

 

Valentine's Day: 

“Frank, you are not getting my mother flowers. She’s never going to let you leave.”  

“I can’t show up to dinner to officially meet your family without bringing something. My mom raised me better than that.” 

You were currently standing in the flower section of Kroger, picking out flowers to get your parents for their anniversary. Every year, they hosted a family dinner on Valentine’s Day to celebrate their marriage and the family that came out of it. This was officially your first go at this holidate thing, and Frank kept insisting that he had to bring flowers. 

“If you absolutely have to get flowers, don’t get red roses. My dad called dibs on those 30 years ago.”  

Frank grinned at your compromise and picked up the bouquet of tulips he had been eyeing. You had to give it to your mom, Frank was handsome, but the holidate deal was strictly platonic, so you turned and headed for the checkout lane.  

When Frank caught up with you, he was holding not one, but two bouquets. The tulips he had picked out for your mom were bright yellow. The other bouquet had a dozen red roses in it, and it had been carefully wrapped in expensive-looking brown paper.  

“Who are those for?” You couldn’t help but ask.  

“Well, I can’t get my holidate’s mother flowers and not buy my holidate flowers too. That’s just unclassy.”  

You followed him in stunned silence. You hadn’t been expecting that.  

When you finally arrived at your parents' house, you were nervously applying and reapplying your lipstick in the passenger side mirror. You didn’t know how your family was going to react to Frank. Obviously, your mom would be pleased, but you didn’t want to sit under your sister’s scrutiny for too long. If anyone was going to figure out what you were doing, it would be her.  

“You’re nervous.” Frank pointed out, watching you from the driver’s seat. “Why?” 

“I’m not nervous.” You scoffed, ignoring how easily he just read your body language. 

“Yes, you are, but you shouldn’t be. I’m the perfect gentleman. Parents love me. You’ll see.” 

He smiled at you and jumped out of the car, running around to open your door for you.  

“See? Gentleman.” 

You led Frank around to the side door, hoping for a subtle entrance. This plan was almost immediately foiled when your mom busted through the door, Cheshire grin planted on her face. 

“Frank! It’s so good to see you!” She brushed past your open arms, pulling Frank into a hug.  

“Hello, ma’am. These are for you.” He held out the tulips, smiling. 

“Oh, you.” She muttered, taking the flowers from him. She rushed through the door, calling out to your dad.  

“I think it’s safe to say that I've won over your mom.” He chuckled. “You ready?” He held out his hand in question. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed, intertwining your fingers in his. 

Dinner was as dramatic as you expected it to be. Your dad had kept up the “tough” act for a whole 30 seconds before Frank managed to win him over. All it took was a subtle nod to your dad’s “impeccable grill set-up" for your dad to shake Frank’s hand and ask him for help grilling the steaks. 

Speaking of grilling, as soon as Frank had exited the back door into your backyard, your sister immediately pulled you aside, demanding to know anything and everything about Frank. You kept your answers short but put enough detail into your responses that it seemed to win her over. Your brother had waved at Frank when you introduced him, and that was the end of that interaction. If only the rest of your family could be as relaxed as your brother was about the men in your life. 

When everyone sat down for dinner, your dad gave a long-winded speech about love and had everyone toast to your mom, who never failed to cry before dinner was served every year. Frank mixed in well with your family, holding conversations on his own with everyone at some point. 

The dramatics really amped up during dessert when your sister announced she was pregnant with her second baby. The room filled with gasps and excited squeals, mostly from your mom, and you watched as your mom wrapped her arms around your sister, teary eyed and smiling wide.  

When everyone had finished saying their congratulations and gathered in the living room for the annual “anniversary slideshow”, you settled against the back wall, content to observe the tradition from afar. Your mom snuck up beside you, pointed look on her face.  

“Don’t say it, Mom.” You mumbled, resting your head on the wall.  

“I wasn’t going to say anything!” She insisted, raising her eyebrows.  

“You were about to point out your lack of grandchildren from me, and I’m asking you to drop it, please.”  

“Oh, fine.” She joined your dad on the couch, snuggling into his side and pressing play.  

Your brother and his fiancé were also snuggling, whispering into each other’s ears and quietly giggling. It was sickeningly cute. Your brother-in-law was slowly rubbing your sister’s stomach, even though she wasn’t anywhere near showing yet. It was all annoyingly cute, and you sighed, wishing you could be anywhere else in the world. 

Frank sidled up beside you, bumping your shoulder with his. He was incredibly warm, and you couldn’t help but lean a little closer to him. You told yourself it was just because your parents kept the house cooler in the winter to save money.  

“What are you doing all the way over here?” He asked, lips so close to your ear that you couldn’t ignore the shiver racing down your spine.  

“I’m just standing.” You responded nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed by the pictures on the screen.  

“Yes, but why are you so far away from everyone?”  

You didn’t respond, finally turning your head to look at him. His face was inches away from yours. You blinked, looking between his eyes. He was fully concentrated on you, and it was making you squirm. He was an expert at focusing his attention fully on the person he was talking to. This was something you had noticed about Frank before, but it never failed to affect you.  

“Do you want to go?” His voice was soft, full of concern.  

“Yes.” You breathed, trying not to look at his lips. 

“Okay. I’ll cause a distraction. You bolt out of the house, and I’ll meet you in the getaway car out front. But grab some of that pie on your way out.”  

He was smiling, obviously just saying something to make you laugh. You tried to stop the wide grin from forming on your lips, but when he was smiling at you like this, it was impossible not to match it. He was getting too good at reading you. 

“But seriously,” he started, still smiling, “I’ll say my friend accidentally cut his finger trying to seduce his Valentine’s date with a meal or something.” 

Frank did exactly that, and he handled it with such grace and confidence that even you caught yourself believing him for a moment. When he closed the car door behind you and began to walk around to the other side of the car, you studied him.  

There had to be something you were missing. This guy, who was seemingly full of green flags, was having the same relationship troubles as you? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be something seriously wrong with him. Otherwise, there’s no way in hell anyone would let him slip through their fingers.  

When he climbed in the car, he looked at you expectantly. “Where to, Miss Daisy?” 

“Want to get ice cream?” You asked, mouth watering at the thought. 

“What Miss Daisy wants, Miss Daisy gets.” He chuckled at his own joke, pulling away from the curb. The silence with Frank was comfortable, and you found yourself more relaxed than you had been in months.  

When you walked into the ice cream shop, you immediately regretted every decision you had ever made. You stopped mid-stride, and Frank very nearly ran into you trying to stop himself behind you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scoping out the store. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but then again, to any normal person, it would seem like that.  

But you were focused on the couple sitting in the back of the parlor, sharing a bowl of ice cream. It was Ben, and he was spoon feeding ice cream to the girl he had cheated on you with. Frank narrowed his eyes at them, trying to put the pieces together.  

“I suddenly don’t have an appetite for ice cream,” you mumbled, turning back to walk out the door. Frank’s brow was furrowed, and the expression on his face read as pure confusion, but he followed you through the door without question. 

You had almost made it to Frank’s car when you heard your name being shouted behind you. Ben was slightly jogging to catch up with you, and you made a show of rolling your eyes.  

“Hey! Wait!” Ben called, waving his arm. 

Frank’s posture stiffened beside you, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he lightly pulled your waist closer to his side. Another shiver slid down your spine. You were going to have to get rid of that side effect as soon as possible.  

“Hey, I just saw you leave the shop. I wanted to see how you were doing after, you know.” Ben was slightly panting. He eyed Frank’s hold on your waist, standing a little taller than before.  

“I’m fine, Ben. Thanks. Bye.” You responded, looking anywhere but his face. You were not going to cry in front of Frank, and you certainly wouldn’t be giving Ben the satisfaction of an emotional breakdown at his expense.  

“Who’s this?” he asked, finally acknowledging Frank.  

“Frank, this is my loser ex-boyfriend. Loser ex-boyfriend, this is Frank. Are we good? Can we go now?” You asked, losing your patience. 

Frank stiffened, a signal that told you he had caught on to the situation. His hand crept across your waist and settled on your stomach, pulling you fully against his front. His movement was slow, barely noticeable to anyone else, but the trail Frank’s hand left behind would be burned into your memory forever. 

Ben looked between your face and Frank’s, scoffing. 

“Oh, I see. He’s the rebound.” Ben nodded to himself. 

Anger coated your tongue. You opened your mouth, ready to scream, when Frank’s voice cut you off. 

“Buddy, why don’t you fuck off, okay? She’s clearly not interested in having this conversation with you.” 

“Okay, buddy.” Ben responded, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t think this is any of your business.” 

“You made it my business when you upset her.” Frank’s deep voice reverberated through your chest. “We’re going.” He opened the car door, guiding you into the seat with a gentle push from the hand on your waist.  

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You eagerly climbed in, squeezing the seatbelt as you buckled it. Frank joined you seconds later, starting the car and carefully pulling out of the spot. Your eyes didn’t leave your lap until the car was safely on the road again.  

“Are you okay? God, that guy’s such an asshole. Sorry about the ice cream.” Frank gripped the steering wheel with one hand, resting his other arm on the windowsill and running his hand through his hair. 

“I’m fine.” Your voice was meek compared to Frank’s deep one. 

“You’re not, but that’s okay. You’re allowed to be upset.”  

You stayed silent, counting the streetlights as you drove past them. Frank didn’t pry. He put the radio on a low volume and quietly hummed along to the Sum-41 song playing. After a while, he turned into a gas station parking lot, pulling into one of the spots in front of the store. You looked around, confused. 

“Stay here. I’ll be right back. Lock the door.” He moved to get out of the car, but stopped when you made a noise of discontent, raising your hands in the air in question. 

“Wait! What are you doing?” You asked, exasperated. 

“I promised you ice cream, didn’t I?” He smiled, climbing out of the car. Your fingers fell along the arm rest, pressing the lock button. You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face as you watched him walk away from the car. 

 

Easter: 

Easter was a holiday that you hadn’t celebrated until you were a few years into your adulthood. Your parents didn’t press religion onto you or your siblings when you were growing up, but your sister had married into a somewhat religious family, so the annual Easter egg hunt they hosted had become a regular part of your Easter plans. 

When you called him, Frank had insisted that his family could spend the day without him. You hadn’t spoken to him much since Valentine’s Day, but you smiled when he immediately said he’d be there, holidate ready.  

He showed up, sporting a button-down shirt and slacks. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and he had let his hair grow out a little. You tried not to stare as he opened the car door for you, ever the gentleman.  

“Have you been okay?” he asked, lightly tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio. 

“Actually, yes.” For the first time in months, you didn’t have to lie when someone asked you that question. Ben was a memory you had all but forgotten about.  

“That’s great. I'm glad you called. My family was trying to force me into dressing up like the Easter Bunny for my nieces and nephews.” He shuddered at the thought. 

Your head whipped around. “You have siblings?” you asked, genuinely surprised. He had never mentioned them before.  

“I have a brother and a sister, like you. They both have a million kids. I love them, but they couldn’t pay me enough to dress up in a giant, fuzzy bunny costume.” 

You threw your head back against the headrest, laughing loudly.  

“You never told me that!” 

“You never asked.” He responded, raising an eyebrow at you and smiling. 

“Hmmm. Let’s change that.”  

You spent the drive asking him every question you could think of. His favorite color was purple, even though he didn’t own anything that even remotely resembled the color. He didn’t have a favorite tv-show because he didn’t ever turn the tv on in his apartment. He loves dogs, but never adopted any because he thinks they should have a big backyard to run around in. He has a perfect attendance record at work because he never gets sick.  

When you pulled up in front of your sister’s house, you still had a million questions for him, but your mom’s waving hand at the front door forced you out of the car. Frank grabbed onto your hand as you walked up the driveway and squeezed it. You tried not to blush. Why did he have to be so God damned dreamy? 

He pulled his hand away to give your mom a hello hug. She winked at you over his shoulder, and your eyes stung at the thought of the holidate deal coming to an end. She was going to be heartbroken. She really liked Frank. You and Frank hadn’t discussed how long you’d be each other’s holidates, but you knew he would eventually meet someone else and have to put an end to your deal. 

“Frank, I’m so glad you’re here. Uncle Steve was supposed to be the bunny, but he fell off his motorcycle last night and can’t walk without crutches. What a shame. But we really need an Easter Bunny.” She shook her head sadly, clasping her hands together.  

The cackle that came out of you was obnoxious, but you didn’t care. This was the best thing that could’ve possibly happened. Frank looked back at you, eyebrows raised.  

“You didn’t mention that your family also did the ‘dress up like the Easter Bunny’ thing.” He muttered, expectant look in his eyes.  

“You never asked.” You responded, wiping the tears gathering under your eyes. Another fit of giggles had you gasping for air. You clutched your stomach, taking deep breaths, and then immediately busted out laughing again when your mom appeared with the bunny head in her hands. 

You spent the afternoon laughing every time Frank walked by you in the costume. He looked so defeated, but he was putting on a good show for the kids, who loved him. When it was time for dinner, Frank fell into his seat next to you. He looked exhausted, but the grin he sent you was to die for.  

“You could’ve told her no, you know?” You said, patting his hand. 

“I know, but it made you smile, so I didn’t want to.”  

Frank said this nonchalantly, but you felt his words in your gut. The chime of a knife on a wine glass stole your chance to respond. Frank lightly ran his fingers along your hand, and you spent the entire speech and prayer focused solely on the feeling of his skin against yours. If someone asked you about the speech, you’d be at a loss for words. You didn’t hear a word of it. 

After dinner, you had drunk so much wine that you excused yourself to the bathroom. Your sister busted through the door approximately 30 seconds after you had entered the bathroom, slamming it shut behind her. 

“Okay, it’s not like I’m in the middle of peeing or anything.”  

“Oh, shush. I need to talk to you.” Her hand subconsciously rested on her stomach. She was showing a little bit, and her lilac dress showed off her baby bump perfectly. 

“What is so important that you couldn’t wait for me to finish peeing?” 

She smirked, leaning against the door. “It looks like it’s going good with Frank.” 

“Oh my god. This could definitely wait until I was done.”  

“We’ve all noticed it. I mean, come on. The bunny suit? He did that for you, not the kids.” 

“Yeah,” you mumbled, trying your best to nod enthusiastically. 

Your sister’s face fell. “What? Is he not good in bed or something?”  

“What? No! I mean, I don’t know. We haven’t-” 

“Oh, is he one of those wait til marriage kind of people?” 

“No! Well, I don’t know.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. You couldn’t imagine Frank being bad in bed, but that was something you had been strictly not thinking about. 

“What are you hiding?” She asked, eyeing you. You should’ve known she would see through this eventually. You rested your elbows on your knees, dropping your face into your hands. 

“It’s not...real.” You finally mumbled. “We’re just faking it on the holidays for our families. A holidate, ya know?”  

“A holidate.” She repeated, voice full of confusion. 

“A holidate.” You sat back, looking up at her. 

“But he doesn’t look at you like it’s fake.” She shook her head, crossing her arms. 

“That’s the point. It’s an act. You can’t tell anyone, especially Mom.” You pleaded with her. 

“This could end very poorly.” She said after a pause, concern lacing her words.  

“I know.” You nodded slowly, then sent her a playful glare. “Can I wipe, now? In private?”  

Your sister left, quietly shutting the door behind her. You stood in the bathroom for an extra few minutes, contemplating the decisions that led you to this point. When you finally rejoined Frank at the table, he was engrossed in a conversation with your dad. He didn’t look at you, but he grabbed your hand, pulling it into his lap. Your sister sent you a pointed look, which you promptly ignored. The pattern Frank drew into your skin burned so hotly that it felt like a brand. 

 

4th of July: 

The 4th of July was always a huge affair for your family. Your parents rented a cabin on the lake and invited everyone and their grandmother to spend the weekend there, and this year, you were being upgraded to your own bedroom, courtesy of Frank’s presence. In the years you were with Ben, he had never joined you for the 4th of July celebration, so you had always been stuffed into a room with someone else. But not this year.  

When you called Frank, it was the first time you’d actually spoken in over a month. The few text check-ins barely counted as a conversation, and they were usually brief. You had nervously paced around the room as you listened to the ringing on the other line, hoping it’d go to voicemail. It was a big step, even if it was technically fake. Not only would Frank be spending the night with you, but he’d also be sharing a bed with you, which was a terrifying thought. 

Frank picked up, panting into the phone. His grunts were downright sinful, and you momentarily forgot what you were calling him about.  

“Am I interrupting something?” You asked, mind immediately jumping to the worst conclusion. 

“I’m at the gym, but I didn’t want to miss your call. What’s up, buttercup?”  

You explained the situation, pacing back and forth around your kitchen when you got to the ‘one bed’ part.  

“Of course, I’ll come. I wouldn’t miss it. Do you want me to stay somewhere else?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?” 

“I can tell you’re walking a hole into your floor right now. We don’t have to share a bed if you don’t want to. I can stay at a hotel or something.”  

“No! I mean-” you paused, closing your eyes, “I just meant that if you would be uncomfortable, you don’t have to come. I didn’t want to pressure you into anything. I don’t mind sharing a bed if you don’t”  

You bit your lip, waiting for his response.  

“Cool. I’ll drive. What time are we leaving?” 

And that was that. Frank picked you up in his car, so giddy about the trip that he was practically bouncing up and down. The drive there wasn’t too long, but you spent the time catching up with Frank. Besides the occasional text, you really didn’t talk to him often when it wasn’t a holiday. After the conversation with your sister on Easter, you had set boundaries with yourself. You only let yourself think about him some of the time, and you certainly didn’t reach out to him. It was better if you distanced yourself from him on the regular days of the year.  

Frank insisted on unloading the car himself and wouldn’t let you lift a finger to help. He even carried your purse in for you. Your mom hugged him so tightly you winced out of sympathy for the poor man. Frank was a big man, but your mom could summon the strength of three grizzly bears when she wanted to. 

Frank said his hellos, shaking your dad’s hand and asking your sister about her pregnancy. Being only 2 months away from her due date, she was fully showing now. When you finally made it to the room you were sharing with Frank, you were so nervous you started to gnaw on the inside of your cheek.  

The bed was big, but so was Frank. He’d take up at least two-thirds of the space. You didn’t let yourself think about tonight, or the rest of the weekend. That was a problem for future you. Your brother bolted past the doorway, stopping only to invite you both to swim in the lake before he took off again. He was only a couple years younger than you, but he had the energy of a 12-year-old boy.  

“Do you want to go?” Frank asked, flopping onto the bed. He propped his head on his hands, which were stretched behind him. His shirt had risen up, giving you a full view of his happy trail. Your mouth dried at the sight. 

“Oh, sure.” You finally responded, shaking the thoughts from your head. “Do you?”  

“Whatever you want to do is fine with me. Your mom’s not going to make me dress up like a giant firework, is she?”  

You stifled a laugh, reaching for your swimsuit. “I don’t think so, but you never know with her.” 

Frank closed his eyes, settling into the mattress.  

“You can change. I won’t peek. Holidate’s honor.”  

The idea of being bare in front of Frank was not something you had prepared yourself for, and you could feel yourself begin to sweat. You slowly closed the door, which increased the heat in the room to suffocating levels.  

You studied Frank, whose eyes remained closed. He looked peaceful in this position, unbothered by the trials and tribulations of life. You slowly unbuttoned your shorts, pushing them down your legs. Your gaze remained on Frank, blissfully unaware of what he was doing to you. Heat pounded between your thighs, and you couldn’t help the image that popped into your head of Frank’s head dipped between. You bit your lip, watching as Frank shifted his hips on the bed and cleared his throat.  

The sound of your brother’s footsteps stomping past the closed door startled you out of your thoughts. A cold wave washed over you, chilling you to your bones. You hurried to put the rest of your swimsuit on, almost falling over in the process.  

You stepped out of the room, taking a deep breath. This weekend was going to be rough, and you had only been there for 15 minutes. When Frank joined you outside, you had to look away in order not to groan. Frank was unreasonably fit, muscles bulging in places you didn’t even know muscles existed. You focused on rubbing sunscreen into your skin, looking everywhere but at Frank.  

He stopped behind you, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen off the table. You froze when you felt his hands gathering your hair, moving it in front of your shoulders. He squirted sunscreen on his hands and began lathering it across your back and shoulders. You watched the group of people gathered around the lake, taking turns swinging into the water off a rope. The only thing that stopped you from turning around and slamming your lips against Frank’s was the horrible awkwardness that would settle between you for the entire weekend if Frank rebuffed your advances.  

His hands worked their way down your back, stopping millimeters above the waistline of your bikini.  

“All done.” His voice was husky in your ear. You slowly turned around, looking up at Frank. He brought his hand up to your shoulder, rolling the strap of your bikini between his fingers.  

“Purple.” He observed. “I like this color.”  

He stepped around you, taking your hand in his and tugging your arm. You tried not to stare at his ass as he led you down to the lake.  

Later, after hours of swimming and eating the burgers your dad had grilled for everyone, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Even though the lake water had been freezing, and you had spent most of dinner leaning into Frank’s natural body heat, you had taken an ice cold shower. Frank was in the room, already showered and probably in bed. You prayed that he would be asleep when you finally got the courage to enter the room.  

You took a breath, stepping out of the bathroom and making your way down the hall. When you stepped into the dark room, Frank was lying flat on his back in bed, scrolling through his phone. 

You crawled into the bed, doing your best to avoid touching Frank. Frank was broad, though, and your shoulder ended up touching his no matter what position you laid in.  

“Jesus,” he mumbled, turning on his side and facing you, “you’re freezing.”  

You cleared your throat. “I’m fine.”  

He gave you a flat stare, pressing his shoulder into yours. You pushed back, settling against him. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own. Frank was warm, and you really were freezing after your cold shower, so you relaxed into the touch, shutting your eyes. The back of Frank’s hand brushed yours as you fell into a deep sleep next to him.  

The next evening, you watched as Frank and your dad set up the firework area that everyone would be gathering around soon. Your sister lounged in the chair next to you, fanning herself.  

“Why don’t you just date instead of faking it? You act like a couple already.”  

“Because that wasn’t the deal, and who says he even sees me like that?” 

“Do you see him like that?”  

 “I don’t know. No.” You shook your head. “It’s not like that.”  

“That suggestive sunscreen job I witnessed yesterday says differently.”  

You didn’t want to argue with her, so you remained quiet, watching Frank’s back muscles flex as he lifted a piece of wood and chunked it to the side. When he made his way back to you, he was coated in sweat, which somehow made him even better to look at. He smiled at you, stopping to press a kiss on the top of your head. Your sister shot you a look when he continued walking towards the cabin. 

When it was finally dark enough to shoot off fireworks, your dad counted down, setting off a huge firework when he got to zero. The night took a turn for the worse shortly after that.  

It had started with your brother jokingly shooting a firework near you that landed a little too close for comfort. Frank had a competitive side apparently, thus began an outright firework war that ended faster than it began. You ran for the cabin, stopping when you heard the unmistakable sound of Frank grunting in pain.  

He had fallen to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest. You turned on your heels, bolting to Frank and falling to your knees in front of him. His finger was missing, and you did your very best not to puke all over your severely injured holidate.  

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD. Frank!” You faintly heard the sound of someone calling an ambulance behind you. You clutched the sides of his face, trying to figure out what to do. Your brother was searching the ground around you, and you balked in horror when you realized he was looking for Frank’s finger.  

“Is it bad?” Frank asked, grunting when he tried to lift his hand. 

“Is it bad?” You repeated, incredulously, “Yes, it’s bad. Where the fuck is your finger, Frank?”  

He barked out a laugh, and then groaned at the movement.  

“You’re the only person who’d get mad at someone with a missing finger.”  

“This is totally karma getting us back for lying to my parents on Valentine’s Day!”  

The ambulance arrived shortly after that, and you jumped into the back with Frank before the paramedics could tell you any differently. You spent hours in the waiting room as Frank had his finger surgically attached, drinking shitty coffee and flipping through the months-old magazines on the table. When the doctor finally told you he was ready to be seen, you had to stop yourself from running down the hall towards him.  

He was in a recovery room, lying on the bed in a hospital gown.  

“How are you feeling?” You asked, plopping down on the chair next to the bed. The hand that had lost the finger was wrapped in pounds of gauze, propped up on a pillow.  

“Like shit.” He grumbled, taking your hand in his uninjured one. “I totally ruined your family’s holiday.” 

“Frank, my brother is the one that shot your finger off. You didn’t ruin anything. I’ve gotten about 75,000 texts asking for updates on you since we got here. They’re not worried about the holiday, they’re worried about you. ” 

“This is the worst holidate ever.” He moaned, exaggerating his eye roll.  

You giggled, resting your chin on your free hand.  

“At least you still have all your extremities.”  

He chuckled, looking at his injured hand. 

“Thanks for staying.” He squeezed your hand as he said it, looking over at you. 

“Holidates don’t leave holidates behind.”  

 

Halloween: 

Halloween was something you hadn’t officially celebrated in years, but your brother was finally getting hitched, and you were actually pretty excited about it. Frank was coming as your plus-one and holidate, even though technically the event wasn’t holiday related. It was the same weekend as Halloween, so Frank had insisted on joining you. He had even gone as far as pointing out that it would be strange for you to show up to the wedding alone, considering how long he’d been attending family events with you. 

Your mother had done all of the hotel booking, so you and Frank were sharing room again, but you weren’t as nervous this time around about that. The weeks after the finger incident had changed something between you and Frank. At first, you basically lived on his couch, waking him up throughout the night to give him the medicine his doctor had prescribed him. You had to help him button his shirts for work, a task you still thought about daily, and stocked his fridge with meals that he wouldn't have to fuss over with his injured hand.  

It was now a fairly regular occurrence to hear from Frank throughout the day. A random text every few hours, or a phone call during his lunch break was something you’d grown used to in your daily routine. You still didn’t know what you were doing. The idea of actually dating someone was terrifying, but you couldn’t decide if it was worse than the idea of not seeing Frank.  

Frank’s voice coaxed you out of your deep thoughts. 

“I can’t get this bowtie to sit right.” Frank called from the bathroom.  

You moved towards his voice, clutching the front of your dress.  

“Zip me, please.” You mumbled, turning your back to him. He obliged, running his cool knuckles up your spine as he zipped the dress up. You focused on the bowtie, undoing the ridiculous knot he had wound into it while trying to fix it.  

“You look great. Beautiful.” He sighed, looking you over. 

You smiled. “You’re only saying that because the dress I’m wearing is purple.” You didn’t mention that you had picked this dress out specifically because of the color. 

“I can like the color and also like you in the color. They don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”  

You retied the bowtie, patting his chest when you finished. “You look good, too.”  

“You’re making me blush.” He chuckled, leading you out the door.  

Your sister met you in the lobby, holding the newest addition to the family in her arms. She had gone into labor in the middle of September, bringing your nephew into the world a short 6 hours later. Frank’s first interaction with him had been so annoyingly adorable that your mother didn’t stop sending you meaningful looks for hours afterwards. 

The ceremony was short, but as weird as you expected it to be. Anything your brother was involved in guaranteed a strange experience, but Frank didn’t seem to mind. He spent the ceremony clutching your hand between his and toying with the fabric of your dress.  

The reception is when it got really interesting. You finally escaped the dance floor, where your dad was thoroughly drunk and had been whipping you around in circles for what felt like hours. You stepped off the raised floor, heading directly for Frank, who had been watching you dance with a bemused expression on his face. 

“That looked fun.” He observed, passing you the glass of water on the table.  

You gulped it down, all too aware of Frank’s heated gaze. You could always tell when he was looking at you. A fiery shock would slide down your spine and settle deep in your bones when his eyes were on you. You never got used to it, but tonight you decided to welcome the feeling.  

Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe you were just tired of sitting on the relationship fence with Frank, but you leaned over him, giving him an unrestricted view down your dress as you set the empty glass down on the table. He remained unfazed, glancing over your shoulder at the dance floor. 

You tried not to look disappointed. You had spent so much time with him that maybe you had created a false narrative about him. It had been 10 months since you’d reconnected, and he’d only ever been affectionate with you when you were in front of your family. Which, you reminded yourself, was the deal.  

You shook your head, ridding the thoughts from your head. You held out your hand in question, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Dance with me.”  

A goofy smile spread across his face. “It'd be an honor, ma’am.”  

You led him across the dance floor, swaying to the music that had changed from fast paced to slow and romantic. Your steps were clumsy and awkward, but that didn’t deter Frank.  

“Let me lead.” He mumbled, looking down at your feet.  

“I can’t not lead. I always lead.” You respond, trying and failing to relinquish your control. 

“Let me lead.” He repeated, squeezing your waist. “Relax.”  

You took a deep breath, following his steps as best you could. It was rather nice, dancing with a man that you could trust to guide you around the dance floor. With Ben, you’d always had to lead. He was a terrible dancer. Frank, though, was a natural.  

He effortlessly led you around the floor, pulling you closer every time he spun you around. Your chest was fully pressed against his, and he smiled as he rested his forehead against yours. You couldn’t hide the ridiculous smile that mirrored his. On any other occasion, you would pull away and stick to the holidate rules, but tonight didn’t feel like a holidate date, so you stayed exactly where you were, cheesing so hard your cheeks were beginning to hurt.  

His eyes darted down to your lips, and then quickly returned to your eyes. You couldn’t help it. You leaned in, just barely grazing his lips with your own. It didn’t qualify as a kiss. It barely qualified as anything, but the expression on Frank’s face had you reeling back. You couldn’t tell if he was upset, confused, or mad, but you opened your mouth to apologize anyways. 

“I’m-” 

The feedback from the microphone cut you off. Frank’s grip on your waist tightened as you whirled around, looking toward the stage. It was time for the ‘father of the bride’ speech, and you couldn’t believe how unlucky the timing was.  

You didn’t look at Frank as you made your way back to your family’s table. Instead, you grabbed your nephew out of your sister’s hands, rocking him in your arms as the speech began. You didn’t need to look up to know Frank was staring at you. He hadn’t stopped since you’d barely kissed him moments before. Heat traveled up your neck and across your cheeks. You felt like crying, but you didn’t know why. Did you just ruin possibly the best friendship you’d ever had by misreading the situation? 

The speech finished, and you went to hand your nephew back to your sister, when the worst possible thing that could’ve happened, happened. Your nephew, cute and as bubbly as could be, decided he wanted to projectile vomit all over your chest. You didn’t move for several moments, trying to comprehend everything that led to this moment. 

Your sister wouldn’t stop apologizing as she took the baby from you. The anxious ringing in your ears was back, and you couldn’t breathe. Tonight was going so poorly, and you were so overwhelmed with Frank that frustrated and embarrassed tears began pouring down your cheeks. You could feel Frank’s hand wrap around your wrist as you turned towards the exit, but you shrugged him off, moving out of the reception hall and towards the elevators in the lobby of the hotel. 

You knew you’d have to face him eventually, but all you could think about was getting out of there, away from his overpowering presence. When you finally got to your room, you couldn’t stop the overflow of tears. Your dress was ruined, probably cursed to smell like baby puke forever, and your makeup was so smeared it would have to be completely redone if you wanted to return to the reception. 

You decided you had had enough of dancing. You stripped your dress off, stepping into the boiling hot shower. You wiped your face, staining the white washcloth black. Your fists squeezed into tight balls as the bathroom door opened and shut.  

“Are you okay?” 

Frank’s voice was soft, and tears welled up in your eyes again at the sound of it. He was always so nice.  

“Why do I feel like you’re always asking me that?” You finally responded, resting your head against the cool tile of the shower wall.  

“You’ve had an off year. We all have ‘em. Are you okay, though?”  

The sympathy in his voice caused even more tears to fall down your face. You couldn’t even figure out why you were crying anymore.  

“I’m...I don’t know.” You mumbled, wiping your cheeks. “I don’t know. Is that okay?”  

“Of course. But you’re allowed to not be okay. I’m here for you either way.”  

You groaned, closing your eyes. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween.” You mumbled. 

You turned the shower off, drying yourself off with the towel hanging on the wall of the shower opposite the shower head. You opened the curtain, clutching the towel to your chest. Frank was sitting on the toilet lid, leaning against the back of the toilet, looking directly at you. His gaze was hard to read.  

“We don’t have to go back, do we?” You asked, stepping out of the shower. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” He stood, moving to lean against the counter next to you.  

You gazed at your reflection. A few tear paths, stained with mascara, were scattered across your cheeks. You rubbed them with the palm of your hand, trying to wipe away any of the remnants of tonight. 

“Beautiful.” Frank mumbled, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. 

“What?” You asked, meeting his gaze. 

“You’re beautiful, even when your makeup is all over the place.” 

“Oh.” You breathed, turning away from the mirror to face him. 

He took a step forward, towering over you. His hand cupped your cheek, and he swiftly leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. The spark was electric, snapping the restraint in both of you. You pressed against him, opening your mouth for him to explore. He groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist.  

You didn’t let yourself think of the consequences as you dropped your towel, fully bare before him. He pulled away, looking your body up and down, before reconnecting his mouth with yours. You pulled on his bowtie, undoing the knot you had tied so many hours earlier. The buttons on his shirt slid apart easily, and suddenly Frank was tugging his shirt off, dropping it to the floor behind him. He cupped the back of your knees, hoisting you into the air as you gripped his back and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

He carried you into the bedroom, grunting as he fell on top of you on the soft mattress. His tongue made its way down your neck and onto your chest. He licked a path down your sternum and onto your stomach, planting kisses along the way. His path downward stopped suddenly as he lightly kissed and sucked on your hip, leaving what was sure to be a mark the next day.  

He lifted your legs, resting them on his shoulders. He looked up, lustful and heated in his gaze.  

“Can I?” He asked, squeezing your thighs. 

“Oh, please.” You responded, spreading your legs wider for him. 

He dove in, tongue lapping at your cunt. The moan you let out would surely wake whatever unlucky neighbors you had on either side of your room. You arched your back, giving him more access. His tongue made slow circles up your slit, settling just below your clit. He left kitten licks all around it, grinning every time you moaned. You scoffed when you realized what he was doing. He was teasing you. 

You let out a frustrated whine, arching your back further. 

“You need somethin’, darlin’?” He asked, punch drunk on your pussy.  

“I need you, Frank.” You whined, looking down at him. 

His gaze darkened, and you were almost afraid of what would come next. He finally, finally, circled your clit with his tongue. You saw stars, letting out the most uncouth moan you’d ever heard yourself make. He flattened his tongue, licking from your clit to your cunt and back again. Your legs began to shake, and he tightened his grip on your thighs. 

He drew figure eights with his tongue, sucking and licking you until you were so close you thought you might explode. He ate pussy like a man starved, and when your orgasm finally crashed over you, white-hot and all encompassing, you thought you might never reach that level of euphoria again. 

He rested his head on your thigh, grinning as he watched you come down from what was probably the best orgasm you’d ever have in your lifetime. Your heart was racing, and you let out several unsteady breaths. Your entire body was numb, and you couldn’t feel anything but bliss inside of you. Frank had wrecked you with his tongue, and all you could think about was doing it again.  

He crawled up your body, hovering over you. He ran his hands through your hair a few times before settling his gaze on yours.  

“Let's do that again.” You sighed, skin buzzing where he touched you. 

He chuckled, pressing a kiss onto the bridge of your nose. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. He was still wearing his dress pants, and you wiggled with discontent.  

“You’re too clothed, sir.” You said, grinning. 

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting back on his heels. 

“Yes.” You replied, watching as he slowly removed his belt. The sight of him kneeling over you, removing his clothes, was drool worthy. You had to remind yourself to close your mouth as he got off the bed and dropped his pants to the floor.  

The front of his briefs were stained with wetness, precum soaking through the fabric. Your mouth watered and you swallowed thickly as he stroked his hard cock, stepping out of his pants and underwear. Frank naked was a sight to behold. His cock was veiny and long, and your legs widened out of sheer shock.  

He smirked, pumping his cock again. You bit your lip to hide the moan crawling up your throat. He leaned over, pulling a condom out of his wallet. 

“Do you always keep condoms in your wallet when you’re a plus one to a wedding?” You ask, genuinely curious. 

“Only when my dates are incredibly sexy and wear my favorite color.”  

“Oh, so this happens often?” You tried to sound seductive instead of insecure, which is the feeling that began bubbling in your chest. 

“No. Not until tonight.” He shook his head, eyes following the curve of your hips and settling between your thighs. He slid the condom on and crawled over you again. 

Relief washed over you, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him to use you as he pleased. Your groans filled the room as he pushed into you, inch by inch until he was fully inside of you. It stung a little, considering how long it had been since you’d had sex with anyone, but he didn’t move, cradling your face and waiting for you to give him a signal that he could positively fuck you into the mattress.  

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his mouth to yours. His thrusts started slow, but the heat in your kiss sent another shock to both of your systems, and soon he was pounding into you. Skin met skin in a sinful, symphonic rhythm that overtook the room. He grunted into your ear when you lifted your hips, allowing him to push deeper into you.  

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him with every deep thrust. Your heart pounded as he thrusted into you, over and over, pushing you closer to the edge. Your moans got louder, and that seemed to motivate him into fucking you harder into the mattress underneath you. He dipped his head into your neck, sucking the sensitive skin and leaving small marks in his wake. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears of pleasure rolling down the sides of your face. You’d never been fucked this good before, and the only logical reaction your body could think of was to cry. 

He kissed the tears, smiling as you clenched around him. He reached down, settling his finger on your sensitive clit. It took about 3 seconds before your body couldn’t handle the overwhelming pleasure washing over you. You moaned loudly, orgasm shattering through you. He groaned, squeezing you tighter against him. You both met your highs, hearts pounding wildly in your chests as you came.  

His thrusts slowed, until he finally stopped, breathing hard over you. Your body was so blissed out that it took you several minutes before you could open your eyes. Frank kissed your nose again, pulling out of you. You both groaned with oversensitivity. 

He disposed of the condom, falling onto the bed next to you. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, still breathing heavier than normal.  

You could barely hear him. The pounding in your chest had moved to your ears.  

“Mhmm.” You sighed, snuggling into the comforter under your head. “You?” 

“I’m in awe of you. I always am.”  

He grasped your hand, pushing the covers back and helping you crawl under them. He settled next to you in the bed, running his fingers through your hair. Your heavy eyelids tracked the movements, watching him watch you. The expression on his face was unreadable, but sleep was fast approaching, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to question it. You could barely keep your eyes open, the last thing you remember being the soft press of Frank’s lips on your forehead. 

// 

A pounding at the door woke you from your deep slumber. The hotel room was filled with daylight, and you shielded your eyes as you tried to find your bearings. Frank was next to you, lying on his stomach and hugging the pillow under his head.  

Another knock at the door had you jumping to your feet, grabbing an extra blanket and wrapping it around yourself as you made your way to the door. You opened it to your very concerned-looking sister.  

“You’re alive.” She observed, glancing over your blanket wrapped body, “And naked.”  

��Yes, thank you. Is that all?” You gritted your teeth, unintentionally snarling. 

She looked over your shoulder at Frank’s sleeping form and back at you. 

“Didn’t you agree with me that this would be a bad idea?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes.” 

“And you did it anyways?”  

“Yes.” You rolled your eyes, itching to slam the door in her face and crawl back into bed with Frank.  

“You’re going to get hurt. Or hurt him. Or both.” She stated, matter-of-factly.  

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, yet.” You admitted, leaning your head against the doorframe. 

Frank shifted behind you, and you looked at your sister incredulously. “Are we done?”  

“Check out is in an hour. That’s all I wanted to come tell you.” She said, floating down the hallway towards her room. You closed the door, rolling your eyes again.  

You turned, intent on forgetting the entire interaction, when you noticed Frank sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

“Hey.” You said softly, moving towards him.  

“Hey.” His response was blunt, voice hard and cold. He stood, sliding past you. He didn’t even spare you a glance as he rifled through his bag, quickly getting dressed. You sat on the bed, watching him move around the room and gather his stuff.  

You didn’t know what to say, or why it had gotten so awkward all of the sudden. You chewed your lip nervously. He finally looked over at you, resting his hands on his hips.  

“Can you check us out on your own?” He asked, seemingly annoyed.  

Your brow furrowed. “Um,” You started, trying to figure out where his coldness was coming from, “Yeah, I can do it.”  

“Okay.” He nodded, lifting his bag. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then?” His voice had softened a little bit, but the expression on his face was still cold.  

“Yeah.” You responded, not knowing what else to say. He walked out of the hotel room, not sparing a glance behind him. You watched as the door clicked shut, and you took a deep shuttering breath. Tears prickled behind your eyes, and you didn’t know what else to do besides packing your stuff. When you got to the lobby 20 minutes later, Frank was nowhere to be found.  

 

Thanksgiving: 

This was probably the most nervous you’d ever been to see Frank, even more than Valentine’s Day when you’d officially started being holidates. You had barely spoken to him since Halloween, which bothered you more than you thought it would. You’d grown so used to his daily texts and phone calls that the radio silence was increasingly frustrating. When you’d texted him to ask if he was still coming to your parents' house for Thanksgiving, he’d sent a simple ‘yes’ 12 hours later.  

You were perplexed by Frank’s behavior, but you chalked it up to overthinking your night with him. You’d never agreed to anything more than holidates with him, and you couldn’t just assume that Frank would be different with you after having sex with you. You had simply misread the signals he’d been sending you, and that was your fault.  

Your mother hadn’t stopped audibly sighing since you’d shown up on the front porch alone. You hadn’t talked to Frank about riding together, so you’d texted him that you were driving yourself. He hadn’t responded, and it was now 15 minutes past the time he was supposed to be here. 

“Are you sure he’s coming, honey?” Your mom asked, fiddling with the oven mitts on the counter.  

“He said he’d be here.” You muttered, trying not to look at the clock again.  

Your phone buzzed, and you read a text from Frank: ‘I’m outside.’ 

You walked out to the front porch, where you met Frank, who was holding two bouquets of flowers in his hands.  

“More flowers?” You asked, looking at the beautiful array of orange, yellow, and red flowers he had picked out.  

“Of course. You know I never show up empty handed.” 

“I’m surprised you showed up at all.” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your tone as you said what you’d been worrying about since Halloween.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Frank didn’t raise his voice, and for that you were glad, but the tone was definitely sharper than you were used to.  

“I just meant that you haven’t been very communicative lately. If you met someone else, that’s fine, but I need to know that stuff so I can tell my family we broke up.” You crossed your arms and shuffled your feet. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked, eyeing you. 

“What?” 

“To break up.”  

“We’re not together, Frank. It’s not real.”  

He inhaled sharply, nodding.  

“Okay.” He said finally, handing you both bouquets. He turned, stalking back towards his car.  

“Where are you going?” The tremble in your voice was entirely too noticeable, and you kicked yourself for being so emotional over this non-relationship. 

“Home. We're not fake-together anymore. Remember? Tell your mom sorry for the inconvenience.” 

He climbed into his car and pulled away from the curb at an alarming pace. You stood there, dumbfounded, watching his car until you couldn’t see it anymore. The tears that you’d spent the last few weeks holding in finally made an appearance, and sobs began to overwhelm your body.  

You had totally fucked everything up, and now you had to go inside and tell your family that you and Frank had broken up. The thought of it made you cry even harder.  

The door opened behind you, and you felt the soft embrace of your sister around you.  

“I’m so sorry, honey.” She mumbled into your back, squeezing you into a hug. 

“I don’t know what happened.” You said, clutching the flowers to your chest.  

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.”  

She held you for longer than you care to admit before you finally went inside to deliver the news. 

 

Christmas: 

You layed on your parents’ couch, watching as your mom slowly decorated the Christmas tree in the living room. You usually helped her, but you’d been a wreck since a few weeks ago at Thanksgiving, and your mom hadn’t asked for your help, just your company. 

The tree came together perfectly – it always did when your mother was involved – and you tried not to think about Frank, or the fact that you hadn’t been able to sleep or eat since you’d seen him last.  

When your mom sat on the couch next to you, she sighed, which was always a sign that she had something important to discuss. You tried not to outwardly groan.  

“Honey,” she started, taking your hand in hers, “I know you miss Frank, but you can’t let this ruin your happiness. He is very handsome and nice, and I don’t know what happened between you two, but I need you to remember that you deserve a kind and forgiving love like the rest of us. If he can’t offer that, he’s not worth your time.” 

The overwhelming urge to come clean to your mom about the entire thing ate at you as you listened to her. You responded before you could lose the nerve. 

“Mom, I made a mistake.” 

She nodded, leaning forward to listen to you.  

“Frank wasn’t really my boyfriend. We were faking it, so that you and dad would stop worrying about me. Except, I think I really fell for him, and then everything went to shit, and I think I accidentally fell in love with him, and I don’t know what to do.”  

Your voice cracked, and another wave of tears fell down your face. The only thing you could manage to do lately was cry, and it was beginning to drain you of your will to function.  

“Oh, honey.” She chuckled, squeezing your hand against her chest. “We don’t care if you have a boyfriend or not. We just want you to be happy, sweetie. And I’m sorry if it came across like we were trying to marry you off. We just wanted you to find someone who could make you as happy as we make each other.” 

She pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back in a soothing pattern as you cried into her chest. 

“You know, we’ve never seen you as happy as you were with Frank.” She murmured. 

“It wasn’t real, Mom.” You muttered, shaking your head.  

“You can’t fake that. He looked at you like you hung the moon. And you looked at him the same way. Even if it started as something fake, that’s not something you can fake for long.”  

You stayed quiet, mulling over her words.  

“You should call him.” She suggested, shrugging her shoulders. 

“I can’t call him. We fake broke-up.”  

“You can do anything you set your mind to.” She stated, raising her chin. “I didn’t raise you to give up so easily.” She flicked your nose, smiling. “Do you want some hot chocolate? I’ll make it the way you like.”  

You sent her a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, thanks.”  

After she made it to the kitchen, you pulled out your phone. You weren’t going to call him, you weren’t insane, but you could text him. 

You asked him if you could talk and watched as the bubbles next to his name appeared, disappeared, and then reappeared on the screen. Your phone buzzed, and an uneasy feeling settled in your gut.  

‘Yes. Can you meet me at the Christmas tree farm off of Jones?’ 

You jumped up, pulling on your boots and yelling at your mom not to make the hot chocolate.  

“Where are you going?” She exclaimed, briskly walking into the living room. You were already a foot out the door. 

“Frank!” You yelled behind you, running to your car.  

The drive was frustratingly long, and you didn’t remember there being so many stoplights in town, and of course you hit every red light. 

When you pulled into the lot, you spotted Frank’s tall frame looking over a sad-looking tree. You got out, slowly making your way towards him. When you finally stopped next to him, you were convinced you might bite a hole through your cheek.  

“This looks like Charlie Brown’s tree.” You stated. 

“There aren’t any good ones left. I waited too long to get a tree.” He responded, shuffling his feet. You still hadn’t looked at each other. 

“Why’d you wait so long?” You asked, stalling. 

“I wanted to get one with you.”  

You looked at him, eyebrows raised.  

“With me?”  

He nodded, finally meeting your gaze. You didn’t know what else to do, so you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. His arms tightly surrounded you, breathing you in for the first time in weeks.  

“I missed you.” He whispered, squeezing you for emphasis. 

“I missed you, too.” You murmured. 

When you pulled away, tears threatened to spill on your cheeks for what felt like the millionth time in the last month.  

“What happened?” You asked, confused at his behavior the last two times you’d seen him.  

“You told your sister sleeping with me was a bad idea, and I know I wasn’t supposed to hear it, but I took it as you didn’t want to be with me, and I freaked out. I thought we would be together after Halloween. Like seriously together, and then when you said that, I thought maybe I had been misreading everything since I met you. And then I realized what a dumbass I am, because the sad look on your face when I left on Thanksgiving told me that you actually did care about me. And then I didn’t know what to say to you, so I didn’t say anything. But what I should’ve said was ‘I’ve been in love with you since Easter, and I want to be your holidate for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me.’” He finished by throwing his hands up in the air.  

You smiled, eyes glistening. “Remember when I was the one who rambled when I was nervous?” You asked, giggling. 

He threw his head back and let out a loud laugh.  

“I do remember that, yes.”  

“Would it help if I said I came here to tell you that I fell in love with you a long time ago? And that I’m an idiot for ignoring it for so long? And that I love you so much that these last few weeks have been absolute hell for me?” 

He grinned, cupping your cheeks. “Yes, that does help a little bit.” 

“Are you sure?” You asked, leaning into his hold. “I could grovel more if you need me to. I came ready for anything.”  

“I’m sure, sweetheart.” He softly pressed his lips against yours, and you physically felt all of the pain of the last few weeks leave your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.  

When you finally broke away, you were breathless and on cloud nine. You nodded towards the tree he had been looking at.  

“I like this one. Wanna get it?” You asked.  

He chuckled and nodded. “What Miss Daisy wants, Miss Daisy gets.”  

You giggled, pulling him into another kiss.  

If you’d told yourself a year ago that you’d be here, kissing Frank Castle in the middle of a Christmas tree lot, you would laugh at yourself. Frank wasn’t what you were expecting, but you had learned over the last year that the best things in life usually come when you least expect them to, and that when you have something good, you shouldn’t let go of it. You weren’t planning on letting Frank go anytime soon, or ever if you could help it, and the way Frank refused to drop your hand, even when you tried to get into your own car to drive to his house, told you he wouldn’t be letting go of you either.  

End Note: I really hope you enjoyed this! If you want to see this in a series with other Marvel characters, let me know! Also, can we please figure out how to get Jon into a romcom. I need that in my life IMMEDIATELY.

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen

[doctorvictoria10]

A stressful admission: Part 2

Tags - ED admission, nervous patient, slight cardio, slight ageplay, medical trauma, comfort.

It felt like her heart jumped out of her chest. A flash of different emotions quickly cycled through her, firstly fear, then shock, and then embarrassment.

“Um, yeah, come in.” She spoke timidly, unsure of who was on the other side of the door. There were several doctors she worked with who she definitely didn’t want it and to be, only maybe one or two that she would actually feel comfortable with. Maybe this was all a terrible idea and she should’ve stuck with the rushed ED doctor. A tall, broad figure poked his head around the curtain and she was so surprised - it wasn’t who she was expecting at all.

“Chloe!” The familiar voice called out gently. “I’m sorry you’ve been waiting so long. I only just got the call to ask if I could come and assess you. All of the OB doctors were busy - a few are off sick so they’re covering each others clinics too! I know we don’t know each other that well but we cross paths every now and then don’t we!” He spoke cheerily.

It took Chloe a while to take it all in. Doctor Jack Canning, a pediatrician, stood before her. She’d been at emergencies where he was there before, he liased closely with her department as there was often an overlap between their professions. He was always smiling, calm and composed, but she’d never really had a proper chat with him before, or gotten to know him.

“Oh, hi. Um, thanks for coming!” She spoke timidly.

He took in her anxious energy and worried expression, she didn’t look her normal self at all. “Are you okay?” He asked seeming genuinely concerned.

She let out a light laugh “Yeah, apart from a case of extreme embarrassment at this whole situation, I’m fine. I just, I collapsed and got brought in. And then I woke up and two people were planning to poke me with needles, and I really hate being a patient, it all got too much and I guess I freaked out.” She admitted shyly, trying to explain why he’d been called out of his day looking after babies to deal with his 26 year old, definitely not a baby, coworker in ED.

He nodded slowly. “May I sit?” He gestured to the bed. Chloe nodded her consent. “Chloe, you don’t need to be embarrassed. I read your notes, I saw you told the doctor before that you had medical trauma from when you were a child. Your reaction to waking up and hearing plans of IV’s and finger pricks and all sorts is completely understandable. It’s scary for someone who hasn’t had the experiences you’ve had, let alone someone who’s also worked in the medical field and knows that not all professionals are kind and patient like we are.” He spoke seriously, and it made her feel validated in the strangest way. She nodded slowly, agreeing with everything he was saying, and she let her fake smile she’d forced herself to wear to downplay the situation slide away. And left was a scared little girl who was terrified of being put in the same situation as she was in seventeen years ago when she was rushed to emergency surgery in agony and fear.

Jack let her sit with that for a moment. Then he continued in a serious but gentle voice. “I agree with the plan the ED doctor has made, the tests and treatments he wants done. But that doesn’t mean you have to accept them, you have a choice, if you let me look after you or not. If you let me look after you, we can take it slow, do it at your pace. We can see how we can maybe make things easier for you. If you won’t let me look after you, I can get you a self discharge against medical advice form and you can sign that and leave whenever you want. It’s up to you, but I’d strongly advise the former option, and I think you know it’s for the best.” He spoke, so gently it was almost soothing. His words resonated with her and seemed to calm her right down. This was her choice, she was an adult now, not a little girl, she could leave whenever she wanted. Jack saw all these thoughts running through her head, her eyes focused.

“I can see you're getting lost in your own head there. Come back to me.” He said quietly. Her eyes met his and she was snapped out of her chaotic thoughts about the situation.

“Isn’t this weird for you? I’m sorry I’ve pulled you away from your work, you must think I’m really weird and silly. You work with babies and kids, and I’m just an adult who’s stressing out about something that I really should be able to deal with.”

Chloe blurted out, blushing in frustration at herself and her inability to keep her anxiety under control.

He pondered what she’d said, and then began slowly. “Looking after babies, they need constant attention and kindness. Precision and accuracy is imperative. I care for them, make them better and I nurture them. And I’d love to do the same for you if you’d let me.” He held her gaze.

Chloe looked at him shyly, she felt herself retreating inwards again, feeling cared for wasn’t a feeling she was used to, her cheeks felt like they were on fire. She felt so embarrassed at the situation she was in. He sensed her embarrassment and hesitation, so he continued.

“Don’t you think this is a little too unlikely? You’re here, sick. You have medical trauma from an emergency surgery when you were critically unwell as a child, and now you’re sitting here with another pediatrician who wants to help you not only in the present, but maybe I can help you heal that inner child, that scared little girl at the same time too.” He smiled gently.

She thought for a moment, this wasn’t a likely situation, and he did seem to genuinely care. The knowledge that she could leave at any time felt safe and reassuring. Slowly she nodded. “Okay. Yeah, if you think it’ll be okay.”

“I think it’s a great idea, and I’m really glad I can look after you and hopefully get you feeling better. Just keep communicating with me okay? I’m not going to do anything without your consent, so you let me know if you’re not feeling comfy and we can reassess together.” He promised.

Chloe nodded at him, and he nodded back.

“Okay then. Let’s get started!” He lightly clapped his hands together. “Can you undress and put this gown on for me?” He held up a pale blue hospital gown. Jack sensed her apprehension, “I’ll need to run some cardiac tests, and palpate your abdomen, this’ll make it easier for us both!” He explained.

Chloe slowly and groggily reached for the gown. She felt so weak still. She dropped it beside her on the bed and started trying to shimmy out of her dress.

“Would you like me to help you?” Jack asked her, seeing her struggle with the fabric in her feeble state.

He was going to see her top half bare anyway, if it was now or in five minutes, did it really matter? Chloe internally questioned herself. “Yes please.” She spoke quietly, lifting her arms up for Jack to assist lifting the dress over her head. He quickly had her in the gown and she was laying back against the pillows soon enough.

“You feel cold Chloe, can I get you a blanket?”

“That would be great, it’s freezing in here!” She rubbed her arms. With a gentle smile and nod, Jack was heading out of the room. He returned quickly with two beige blankets in his arms.

“These are from the warmer!” He draped one around her shoulders and one over her body. The warmth felt so comforting and she felt herself relax into the bed. “Now Chloe, where would you like to start?” He asked carefully. When she didn’t reply and just stared at him with wide eyes he offered, “If you’re happy for me to take the lead, I’d like to get an IV in so we can take bloods and get the results processing whilst we do the rest of the exam. I can also be giving you some fluids and if you like, a relaxant for your nerves?”

Chloe nodded slightly, eyes still wide. He watched her, concerned but also interested.

“Chloe, I can see you’re retreating into yourself, and that’s completely okay, but I’m going to need a verbal confirmation before I do this. I’m going to put in an IV, take bloods, start fluids and give you a relaxant medication. Once you’re relaxed, I’m going to check your blood sugar, assess your heart and feel your tummy. I’m going to look after you throughout, I’m not going to cause you any unnecessary discomfort or upset, I’m going to be as gentle with you as I can. Can you say ‘Yes, that’s okay’?” He looked at her for a long moment.

“Yes, that’s okay” Chloe spoke quietly, in a voice that wasn’t quite her own. It sounded childlike, vulnerable. Her little space caught her off guard. It was usually controllable, she could choose when to drop and when not to, but this situation and Jack were pulling it out of her.

Jack gave her a knowing look and smiled softly. “Okay then, let’s begin.” 🖤

[abandoned-beast]

ooc rambings (003.)

Ernstgemeinte Frage, ob manche Leute nur Fake-Accounts / RPG-Accounts haben um extrem horny on main zu sein?

Bin 'n bisschen schockiert, dass die Blogs keinen anderen Inhalt haben außer dauernd irgendwelche Fotos mit Fingern halfway up a vagina oder irgendwelchen happy trails von Dudes, wo nur noch 2cm fehlen bis man Schwanz sieht, zu posten.

Habt ihr nicht genug Sex? Muss ich euch beibringen wie man es sich selbst macht, damit ihr euch auf das Wesentliche konzentrieren könnt?

Und euren Sex-Content dann nicht mal taggen, ist auch so 'ne Lebenseinstellung bei der man sich schon dreimal fragen muss. Also klar, ich blockier halt die URLs nach und nach, aber ist ja auch nicht Sinn der Sache. Würd viel lieber einfach euren 18+-Tag blockieren und den Rest eures Accounts weiterhin sehen.

Aber ist ja euer Blog ey. Ihr macht das schon.

[frankensteined]

what the fuck is going on in ob echoes i thought it wasn't out until 2024????????????

[nostalgia-tblr]

I have not quite finished writing this but the first three parts are done so here is the first one and fingers crossed that gives me sufficient time to get the last part written.

This is the Sylki Quantum Entanglement Fic, which was not intended to be an Alternate S2 but it does more or less look like one, oops. Chapters are 2000 to 3000 words long, E-rating applies from the start because this is Sexy Quantum Entanglement :D

Title: Towards a New Theory of Variant Entanglement [Chapter 1/4] Fandom: Loki (TV 2021) Rating: Explicit Pairing: Loki/Sylvie, Loki & OB Wordcount: ~2000 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Loki (TV 2021) Season 2 Compliant, No Loom; No Time-slipping; No Depressing Ending!, Fake/Bad Physics, Accidental Mental Link, Self-cest, Sexual Content, Banter, Happy Ending, Idiots In Love, (it’s him he’s idiots) Summary/Snippet: “The atoms are made up of even smaller things, and that’s where it starts getting weird. Sometimes, two of the really tiny things interact in a way that leaves them connected, so that the state of one affects the state of the other, instantaneously, no matter how far apart they get. And that, scaled up and with time travel, is how you got your Sylvie action at a distance!”

[tennessoui]

"bestie they're in your hair colors who do you think bought them" kit i am CRYING

(from the tags on this ficlet: #obikin#and ok i know i said in the original tags that anakin crashes the ship because he realizes#how much he loves ob-wan and how much he doesn't want to go back to coruscant#but what if he only THINKS about that but then obi-wan who has gone through the 5 stages of grief#and has landed on acceptance says something about how this was fun but he can't wait to get back#he's been asking for a padawan#maybe they'll give him one now#and anakin realzes obi-wan wouldn't be with him or leave the order for him#so he resigns himself to leaving and maybe time away from him will make him fall outt of love#only to try to return his fake wedding ring to the council#and for the council to be like uh we didn't buy those? wait why did you pretend to be married? i thought you were just gonna be brothers?#and anakin is like wait you didnt buy the rings#and the council is like why would we buy a solid gold ring and a bronze ring with actual rare sapphires#and anakin is like who bought the rings then#and plo koon takes pity on him and is like bestie they're in your hair colors#who do you think bought them)

plo koon said i'd let you keep being oblivious but ive got money riding on this and your boy is packing to go on solo mission rn so you better hurry

and anakin is like!! what do you mean!!

and the council is like also jsyk he lied to you

and anakin is like WHAT ! DO ! YOU! MEAN!

and the council is like well you said he told you he already got rid of his ring because he gave it back to us? total lie. haven't seen him yet. also he said we wrote the cover story? he said he would take care of that so we didn't bother. master yoda was very disappointed. he loves coming up with the cover stories.

[jobrookekarev]

could you potentially do a prompt where arizona mentions alex (to jo) when she returns? i’m interested to see your take on that, especially now that she’s with he-who-shall-not-be-named

AN: i loved this idea and may or may not write about Jo going to New York. 🤷‍♀️

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Words: 2,244

Summary: Arizona comes back to Seattle and works with Jo before trying to fix her and Alex’s relationship, despite how Jo has moved on. 

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship:  Arizona Robbins and Jo Wilson, Alex Karev/Jo Wilson (Mentioned), Arizona Robbins/Callie Torres, (Mentioned)

Characters: Jo Wilson and Arizona Robbins, Carina DeLuca (Mentioned) 

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences.

Additional Tags: Cannon, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship,  Deviates From Canon, LGBTQ Themes, One Shot, Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Drama, Friendship/Love, LGBTQ Character, Domestic,  Angst with a Happy Ending, 

Read at AO3

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14334605/1/It-s-Nice-to-Have-a-Friend

…………………………………………………………………

Of course, Jo was avoiding Arizona.

The second Jo heard that she would be visiting she planned accordingly. Arizona was there to teach the interns about the work at the Robbins-Herman Foundation, and both Surgery and OB residents and interns were required to attend. Carina thought she would be excited, as she was excited to see Arizona, but Jo wasn't.

Therefore, she was unable to escape it, even by trying to fake an emergency. Arizona wanted her up front to help her present and Jo did her best at trying to remain back especially as she and Carina talked. She ultimately ran away the second the presentation was done, avoiding all small talk with Arizona. 

She had strategically stacked her schedule with a general surgery she knew was outside of Arizona's specialty.

She didn't want to see Arizona, she didn't want to talk to her, to hear the word she would say, she didn't even want to think of her being in the building. Until Melina went into labor. 

Jo had promised Melina she'd be there to deliver her daughter as she had a cleft palate. She worked really hard to get a report with her and get her to trust her and the hospital. Melina's previous baby had died because of a medical error and up until her baby had been diagnosed with a cleft palate she had refused to deliver in a hospital. 

So Jo of course stepped in the second Melina was in labor. 

“You're doing great Melina, just a couple more pushes and your baby is going to be in your arms,” Jo said to her as she sat between Melina's legs. The head had been peeking out and Jo was ready to catch the baby. 

“I want to feel her head, I want to know she’s okay,” Melina said, reaching forward as her husband held her up, and Jo took her hand and guided her down to feel her baby’s head. 

“She’s got a lot of hair, can you feel it?” Jo asked her as she smiled.

“I can feel it,” Melina said as she cried with happiness. 

“Okay, push, push,” Jo said as Melina pushed and the head was delivered. “Okay Melina, just give me a second, pause and breathe.”

“You're doing so good, my love,” her husband said as he focused on her, holding her up and as he leaned in and whispered words of encouragement to her. 

Jo assessed the baby's cleft palate, as she cleared their airway. It didn’t look as bad. 

“Okay, I have to push again,” Melina said as she felt another contraction coming. 

“Okay push, push, and your baby's going to be here,” Jo promised her as Melina pushed and out popped and Jo caught the beautiful baby. 

They let out a cry, as Jo held them up for Melina and her husband to see. Melina cried with happiness as her husband stood there in awe. 

“It’s a happy and strong girl,” Jo said as she placed the baby on their chest as Melina held her baby. 

“She's beautiful,” Melina cried as she cradled her baby. “Dr. Wilson, her cleft isn't that bad is it?” 

“Let’s take a look, Jo said as she waited for Melina to hand the baby over. 

She did reluctantly and watched intently as Jo took the baby girl over to the baby warmer. Jo suctioned her mouth as the baby cried and grabbed her flashlight. She looked in the baby’s mouth and lip to see the palate and couldn't stop herself from letting out a breath as she saw the large open cleft palate. The entire roof of their mouth was gone. 

“Let's page the on-call pediatrician,” Jo said as the nurse next to her nodded and one of the other nurses ran out.

“Alright, I'm just going to take the baby to get them measured and weighed,” Jo said, turning back to give Melina a small smile. 

“What do we have?” Arizona's voice shocked her and Jo nearly jumped back. 

She didn't say anything as one of the nurses explained the case to Arizona as she assessed the baby. Jo stepped back and looked over at Melina. 

“I have to push again.” 

“Okay, let’s deliver the placenta.”

“What about my baby?” 

“She’s got a severe cleft palate, but Dr. Robbins is the best pediatric surgeon I know, she’s in good hands.”

While she let Arizona focus on the baby, everything was in slow motion as she helped Melina. Jo listened to Arizona as she treated the baby giving her an assessment and before the baby calmed. Jo disposed of the placenta and Melina’s bleeding was under control as Arizona placed the baby back in Melina's arms.

She said a lot of things about the cleft lip and palate and her plan for the baby, but she also reassured them that they still had a happy healthy baby. 

“You're lucky Dr. Wilson is one of the best.” Jo was quick to catch this Arizona as beamed over at her, but she could only manage a forced smile and a nod in agreement. 

“I'll leave you two to get to know your baby,” Jo said as she quickly escaped the room, but Melina and her husband were too enthralled in their baby to notice. 

“Jo wait,” Arizona called after her, but Jo was halfway down the hallway. 

She didn’t wait or stop to look back as she started to run down the halls looking for any escape. She didn't realize how nervous she was until she stopped at the elevator, pressing the buttons on repeat before deciding she should take the stairs. She quickly ran and opened the door, but before she could escape into the stairwell, Arizona caught her arm. Arizona pushed her forward as they both stepped into the stairwell.

“I have to go, I have another case in the ER,” Jo said as she quickly tried to run down the stairs and escape the impending conversation she knew was about to happen. 

“Jo wait please just let me talk to you for a moment,” Arizona said as she tried to plead with her and kept her grasp on Jo's elbow.

“Well forgive me for not wanting to talk about the man who fucken left me!” Jo yelled as she escaped Arizona and ran down the stairs. 

“He only told me a week ago!” Arizona said in defeat as Jo paused, she didn't turn around, but Arizona went on. 

“Up until then, he had told me that you both were still in Seattle, happily married and that both of you had adopted Luna. I mentioned that I was going to Seattle and that I was excited to see you all and he broke down until told me everything. About Izzie and the twins and Kansas and everything. I was so angry with him so much that I took a pit stop in Kansas just to yell at him. Then I saw how miserable he is out there.” 

“I don't care,” Jo said, cutting her off and turning around to face her. “I'm glad he's miserable, he made his bed now he can lie in it. I rebuilt my life without him. I'm an amazing general surgeon and I'm at the top of my class for OB. I have a family, a daughter, without him. I rebuilt everything without him. ”

“I know,” Arizona said softly, as Jo let out her anger in a breath. 

“When Callie and I divorced, we had the most bitter custody battle. I literally went to war with Callie over our daughter. And looking back I regret the way I handled things we both do. After I moved to New York,  we managed to repair our relationship and fall in love again…”

“Just because Alex is your baby brother and I'm bisexual doesn't mean that our relationship is anything like yours.” 

“Okay hold up,” Arizona said, holding your hands up as Jo paused and huffed, crossing her arms. “I had no idea you were bisexual, so we're going to have to revisit this later. But I'm not trying to play matchmaker.” 

“Oh really?” Jo asked, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Okay maybe a little bit but Alex is brother to me and you're family too, anyone who works at Grey-Slone is family to me. And I want my family to be happy. Callie and I had the worst divorce and now we're getting married again! and I love you and I love Alex and I'm not trying to take sides in this, but I am saying that there is a chance that you could repair your relationship.”

“Arizona, no.”

“Yes, because you two were so in love! Out of all the couples at Gray-Sloan you guys were the one every rooted for. I remember your third year residency when you and Alex, broke up. I thought you'd never forgive him then, but you did! You were so much in love that you repaired your relationship and came back stronger. I just want you and Alex to have the same happiness that Callie and I have.” 

Arizona reached out and put her hands on Jo's shoulders, but Jo shook her head pressing her fingers to her head as she rubbed her forehead. 

“You don't understand,” Jo said, looking at Arizona and begging her to listen. 

“Alex and I didn't just divorce, he left me for his ex-wife and his kids! And I understand why he did it, but he still left me. It was a choice that he made to end our marriage, instead of trying to work it all out and be honest with me. He chose our divorce. And yes, I still love him, deeply. But I can never love him again because of the trust that he broke. If we ever get back together there will always be a part of me that will question if he's just going to leave me again. I can't live like that and I won't raise my daughter in a relationship like that. Luna doesn't deserve that, She deserves to have parents who love and support each other. Alex and I will never have that.” 

“Is that why you're with Link?” 

“Yes, Link is my best friend and I love him,” Jo sighed as she thought about the life she and Link had together and the ring he had in his drawer for her. 

Arizona was silent for a moment. She looked away from Jo's eyes and nodded, before she pulled Jo in for a hug. “I know I'm sorry I didn't mean to over step.”

“Thank you,” Jo said, as she smiled and relaxed.

“I know that you have a life here in Seattle with Luna and Link, but I'd like to accelerate your studies and offer you a fellowship in New York. You are so talented and I've seen you handle tricky situations that most third year residents would drown in. Carina said that the two of you have transformed the maternity ward here in Seattle and cut the maternal mortality rate from 30% down to 3%. I want to implement those changes in New York and bring those changes to every single hospital in the US.”

Arizona beamed a smile and Jo stood in awe of the offer Arizona had given her.

“But you should also know that I've also offered Alex a job in New York and I think he’ll take it.”

“You can't play matchmaker, Arizona,” Jo said as she sighed and shook her head. “I know that it's only been a few weeks for you, but it's been three years for me. My daughter is the best thing that's ever happened to me and it never would have happened if he hadn't left me. And yeah, maybe we would have adopted her together, but it doesn't change the fact that he left. I'm alone and nothing you or him would change that. He made the choice to leave and I made the choice to stay away from him.”

Jo looked up at Arizona, pleading with her to accept this and she finally nodded. “I understand, but I'm still hoping that you'll at least come to visit New York, let me show you around the Robbins-Herman Foundation, please?”

Jo looked down but smiled. “I'll consider it.”

“Great,” Arizona said as she reached out and wrapped Jo in a hug. “Now tell me all about this research you and Carina are doing on intrauterine scarring.” 

“Well, Carina and I have started researching how to use the uterus's ability to shed its lining and discard tissue to shed the scar tissue and completely rebuild the walls of the uterus again.”

Jo smiled as they started to walk downstairs together and Arizona hung on her every word. It was clear to Arizona that Jo was passionate about her work, and she was proud of her. It took a special person to succeed in this field and Arizona was so happy to have Jo be a part of this. They talked for hours, meeting after work at Jo's Penthouse where Arizona was able to meet Luna and she absolutely doted on her. Arizona was able to convince Jo to come to New York, at least for a conference and to look around the foundation. Yet, Jo didn't want to accept her offer of a job. Still, they promised to keep in contact and Jo felt good about having her friend back in her life.

[falleraatje]

🐑 a fake set of fic tags für Hörk: stuck in an elevator & getting back together 👀

vorab: getting back together ist eigentlich so gar nicht mein ding, weil ich mich weigere, einen break-up zu schreiben. Aber die summary (oder eher einen sneak peak) gibt's natürlich trotzdem :)

Leo starrt beinahe verzweifelt auf den Knopf, über dem groß "NOTFALL" steht und überlegt, ob es helfen würde, zum vierten Mal darauf zu drücken. Er würde wahrscheinlich keine andere Antwort bekommen als vorhin, dass es noch mindestens eine Stunde dauern wird, bis der Notdienst kommt, um sie hoffentlich aus diesem Stahlungetüm zu befreien. Aber dann hätte er wenigstens das Gefühl, etwas tun zu können.

"Leo?"

Er will das nicht hören. Es ist ewig her, dass Adam seinen Namen so gesagt hat, aber es könnte gar nicht lange genug her sein, damit Leos Körper nicht mehr instinktiv reagiert und sich sofort in Adams Arme werfen möchte.

"Hast du Angst?"

Natürlich hat er keine Angst. Das hier ist nur ein Fahrstuhl und sie werden schließlich nicht für immer hier feststecken. Leo kommt damit klar, auch wenn es natürlich nicht ideal ist, ausgerechnet mit Adam auf so engem Raum zusammengepfercht zu sein -

Oh. Nun muss Leo sich doch umdrehen und Adam anschauen, so wie er ihn seit Monaten nicht mehr angeschaut hat. Weil sie zu zweit in einem engen Raum gefangen sind und weil es nur einen Blick braucht, um zu erkennen, warum Adam gefragt hat, ob er Angst hat.

[mischief-lies-and-stories]

Loki Episode 5 theory

Spoilers for Season 2, mostly end of episode 4 and the trailer. (Also something that's been going around the tag, but I'm not explicitly mentioning it.)

Theory: The Loom exploding sent the Time Revengers to various points on the timelines.

I'm calling them the Time Revengers. I tossed around Avengers 2.0 and Time Avengers, but Ragnarok is my favorite movie (and I forced my friends to call our dnd adventuring group The Revengers), so naturally I had to go with Time Revengers for our sextet (Casey, OB, B-15, Sylvie, Loki, Mobius, and sort-of Timely). Anyway--

So at the end of last episode, the loom exploded. Possibly also the timelines, but for the sake of this theory I'm going with the loom. Part of me thinks the episode is going to reset (it did do a thing the way the reset charges do) and we're gonna try again in ep 5. However, there are still a lot of clips in the trailers that haven't shown up yet in the show. (And also the terrible, no good, very bad spoiler that I'm hoping to god is fake.)

So my thinking is the explosion sends them to various points on the Timeline. In some cases, it sends them back to their original place on the timeline, but not necessarily. They just go where there's a gap for them to fill. Based on the trailer, Casey ends up in prison (I think), B-15 is a doctor, and Sylvie is listening to a cassette/record on a couch (possibly in Broxton). I have no idea where OB is (maybe we see it in a trailer and I've forgotten). Loki either goes back to Asgard (AND WE GET TO SEE THOR???), or he's on Midgard in one of his mortal personas, Jordan or Loren or someone else. I want Thor to show up (and he's currently in New Asgard, so maybe he will), but based on everyone else, it makes more sense for Loki to be on Earth (though maybe Verity will show up if he's there?!). And then we get the terrible, no good, very bad (fingers-crossed-possibly-fake) spoiler that's been making the rounds about Mobius's backstory. At least one of these is not in their real place on the Sacred Timeline, and if Loki is on Earth that will bring the number to at least 2. So Mobius doesn't necessarily have to be in his actual backstory here.

I think they take at least half an episode to figure out they're not supposed to be where they are and to get back to each other in order to reform the Time Revengers and take two at fixing things.

The only issue I have with this theory is that there's only two episodes left, and I feel like this would take most of an episode to do well. We don't really have the time for that.

(Also, yes, this is absolutely me being in denial about the terrible, no good, very bad spoiler. I'm still questioning its veracity, but if it is true, no it's not.)

[fake-vz]

Hallo meine Lieben,

wie alle anderen hier bin ich auf der Suche nach aufregenden Plays, netten Leuten zum quatschen und Spaß haben, Freundschaften, Bekanntschaften & alles was sich so ergibt. Mein Interesse liegt an dauerhaften Plays, ein vernünftiges Kennenlernen, nicht dauerhaft nur Smalltalk führen ( schön und gut, aber bin hier zum Austauschen von Texten, Old School oder Roman. ) Leute die sich innerhalb von 24 Stunden löschen, alle 2 Tage oder ähnliches sollten sich besser von mir fern halten, spiele solche doofen Spielchen nicht mit. Ansonsten kann man mich wirklich immer kontaktieren, ob ein einfaches Hey, Fragen zu meiner Person oder was euch so einfällt um ein Gespräch zum laufen zu bringen. Es kann auch direkt ein Text sein, bin da recht einfach zufrieden zu stellen, selbst anrempeln geht da völlig in Ordnung, wenn man mit dem Echo leben kann, haha. Falls ihr euch nicht zuerst melden möchtet, kein Problem, einfach diesen Post hier liken und ich lasse euch eine Nachricht da. 💫

Ich freue mich schon sehr auf die ganzen Leute die ich kennenlernen werde, die mich auf meinem Weg begleiten und auf eine unvergessliche Zeit hier auf Fake - Wünsche euch damit einen schönen Tag oder Abend. ❤️

^