#IT TOOK UNTIL COVID TIMES?

[sleepdepravity]

Hang on. What? Really?

Huh???

[cassiskurocorner]

Try not to make Sebastian have heated eye contact with another man challenge (Impossible edition)

[thinkingmyfandom]

Hey so... I just realised Charlie and Vaggie are both part/full angel. So like, they can't be hurt by normal demons and their weapons really. And... who, how, why? That is so much to process. Just-

A) Vaggie literally threatens everyone, including ALASTOR in the pilot, and the demons attacking the hotel in episode 5 (and Carmilla) with an Angelic Weapon.

Do you guys think Alastor knew it was an angelic weapon? If Carmilla put it together, do you think Alastor did? Do you think Alastor would have fucked himself like he did with Adam's weapon if he accidentally stabbed himself with Vaggie's spear when he pushed it aside? I mean, you could say it is intent, but the fandom makes a big deal about angelic wounds not healing like they should and needing actually healing from people like Lucifer.

B) I can't tell if Alastor is an idiot or not now. He didn't just not have an angelic weapon for the finale. He didn't have one with Vaggie the whole time, he couldn't put a scratch on her. Or Charlie. He tried to piss them off anyway, under-prepared. Is he an idiot? Is his soul owner an idiot? Like, Hazbin Hotel wouldn't work if Alastor wasn't there supporting it, but someone had to be stupid to make that plan happen and I want to know who to blame. And if it's Alastor's awful self-esteem I want it milked for fluff and angst, for sure.

C) Vaggie and CHARLIE cannot be hurt by non-angelic weapons. Charlie! The one who legitly acts like everything will go wrong if she takes one step out of line.

Why didn't she just snap Valentino's neck? She could have. I mean, lickity slime but, she's basically immune to counter meassures. Surprised she didn't just go vigilante and kill all the shitty people her Dad didn't like. Like there is such a huge gap between even Overlords and Angels, this conflict is basically non-winnable at this point.

D) Charlie let Alastor Face Adam. Like, sure, Alastor has fight experience, but like-? "Hey, I don't like seeing people die. But sure Alastor. Go for it. You're the weakest against Adam, you deal with him?" Are you kidding? Charlie Mc'naggs alot didn't even get him to take an angelic dagger. It's like she thought "Serial Killer on Earth. He must have just stabbed them with his magic vines. I don't need to worry or care about him like my friend at all!"

I get Vaggie might do that (but not this far in. Alastor was the reason Charlie's Dad had to fight and realised he needed to put in work for his daughter, not to mention, rebuilding the hotel). But Charlie?

Alastor is a literal Long-Distance fighter. Nobody thought "man, Adam has a murder axe and does close range. Maybe we couldn't put a man who fights with a cane in close contact with that areshole". And I mean, Vaggie was leading the army, who else would take on Adam? What about, any extra person? I blame Vaggie here (and Alastor, but he's mentally ill, I get that). Look, the overlord covered the hotel with a giant dome. He can totally fight Adam while doing that, and protecting himself.

Like, I don't get why Alastor didn't shield himself more. You could say he was cocky but I'd say he isn't... dumb? He said he wanted to live and figure a way out of his deal. The why didn't he act like one hit from Adam was as bad as it would be?

I assumed Alastor had some combat training to go after people like that. Serial killers that are sloppy get caught, not to mention hunting and whatever abuse most likely happened at home.

Did the animators and writers know nothing about martialarts. Alastor could clearly dodge. Should have known not to get hit by that axe. It breaks the reality of the finale so hard, and his reappearance after the battle does 2.

E) Going back to it, Charlie doesn't have much to be anxious about. Sure, societal stigma, emotional pain can be worse than physical pain. But look at it via attachment theory. Usually, if someone is insulted or put down, they loose trust in people and turn away. It's when they are HURT by people, physically, or threatened to be hurt by people, that they start getting flinchy, fearful, jumpy and anxious. You could say she was parentified emotionally from a young age. But that still says someone threatened violence near her, and that she believe the violence would be really painful and problematic for her. But from the way Lucifer and Lilith react, she has nothing to worry about. You could say she is worried about Harming sinners, but she is extremely touchy for that to be the case. As Princess of Hell, she has no reason to act like that.

Final Conclusion) I thought Charlie was scared of getting hurt, which is why she let Vaggie and Alastor do the fighting for her. But she literally can't be hurt. Vaggie can't either, sinner's shouldn't even scare her or bother her, because both she and Charlie can't be hurt. That kills every dynamic in the hotel. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Not that I can afford to care. I've probably written 300,000 words of fanfiction about this show in my time. (Maybe this is an opportunity for another such fanfiction). But it just feels like they could have used this to the shows advantage and they didn't. Oh well.

[just-absolutely-super]

oh man this change in weather is really messing with my allergies

*remembers i took care of a person with the common cold a few days ago*

…oh it might not be allergies

[deltaz-but-they-just-call-me-taz]

Hey, yall, guess who got The Viiiid

[theghoulofme]

currently banning myself from listening to music cause i can feel it becoming too much and i have a concert to go to in a week

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

skipping class for the first time in my life bc my professor has covid and he sent out an email saying we’re having class and he’s asymptomatic and will wear a mask per cdc guidelines even tho he’s past the 5 day required isolation period. like. great whatevs but have you actually tested negative

update: the answer was no he had not

[steviescrystals]

considering like 80% of the conversations i have with my dad are about all the concerts i go to and all the ones he went to when he was younger i’m kind of shocked it’s taken this long for us to go to one together

[amethystsoda]

thank goodness for concert tickets I already had so I don’t have to go on my parents’ road trip to see a megachurch pastor preach about prosperity again

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

being sick as an adult sucks. wdym my mom won’t just automatically make sure I eat food instead of exclusively drinking Gatorade all day. wdym I have to ask my roommates to make me dinner. I have to Venmo a friend money to buy me more Gatorade?? I can’t focus enough to do homework??? I hate this.

[trashiecat]

i Know i get unreasonably afraid anytime my mom doesn't feel good but literally if something happens to her before my dad passes im gonna lose my entire mind and end up like in a committed institution and have a Bad Time Forever. i will Not be able to handle it in any sense of the word

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

wait, Derin how did your leaving make the hospital shut down?

I used to work as a live-in nanny for a pediatrician.

Now, the thing about hospitals in my country is that they are massively understaffed and massively underfunded. This is especially true outside the major cities. The staff are worked to the bone and receive little to no help in things like finding accommodation or childcare, making working in rural areas a very uninviting prospect; staff come out here, get lumped with the work of three people (because there's nobody else to do it), burn out under the workload and leave, meaning that those remaining have even more work because that person is gone. It's unsustainable and the medical staff are doing their best to sustain it, because people die if they don't, so to the higher-ups it looks like everything's getting done and therefore everything is fine.

My friend (and boss) worked one week on, one week off, swapping out with another pediatrician. This was necessary because it would not be physically possible for one person to handle the workload for longer periods of time. The one single pediatrician had to hold up the entire pediatrics ward, which was not only the only public hospital pediatrics ward in our town, but also the one that served all the towns around us for a few hours' drive in all directions. I regularly saw her go to work sick, aching, tired, or with a debilitating 'I can barely make words or see' level migraine, because if she took a day off, twenty children didn't get healthcare that day, and some of these kids' appointments were scheduled weeks in advance. She'd work long hours in the day and then be called in a couple of times overnight for an hour or two at a time (she was on-call at night too, because somebody had to be), and then go in the next day. Sometimes she would be forced to take a day off because she physically could not stay awake for longer than a few minutes at a time, meaning she couldn't drive to work.

Cue my niece's second birthday coming up in Melbourne. I'd been working for her for about 3 years, and she (and the hospital) had plenty of advance warning that I (and therefore she) needed one (1) Friday off. That's fine, we'll find someone to work that Friday, the hospital said. Right up until the last week where they're like "oh, we can't find a replacement; you can come in, can't you?"

No, she tells them; I don't have anyone to watch my kid that day.

Oh, surely you can hire a babysitter for this one day, they say. Think of the children! We really really need you to work that day. I know we said it'd be fine but we need you now, there's no one else to do it.

There are no other babysitters, she told them. Unless you can find one?

That's not our responsibility, they said.

But I'm not changing my plans, she's got plans by now as well, the hospital knew about this one day weeks in advance, and with absolutely no reserve staff they're forced to reschedule all pediatrics appointments for that Friday. Not a huge deal, it happens on the 'physically too overworked to get out of bed' days too. I go to Melbourne, she goes back to her home in Adelaide for her recovery week, all should be on track.

My niece gives me Covid.

This was way back in the first wave of the pandemic, and there were no Covid vaccines yet. The rules were isolate, mask up, hope. I had Covid in the house, and it would've been madness for my friend and her toddler to come back into the Covid house instead of staying in Adelaide. There was absolutely no way that a pediatrician could live with someone in quarantine due to Covid and go to work in the hospital with sick children every day. And no support existed for finding another babysitter, or temporary accommodation, so the hospital was down a pediatrician.

The other pediatrician wasn't available to do a three-week stint. They were also trapped in Adelaide on their well-earned week off.

Meaning that the only major pediatrics ward within a several-hour radius had no pediatricians. They had to shut down and send all urgent cases to Adelaide for the week. To the complete absence of surprise of any of the doctors or nurses; of course this would happen, this was bound to happen, it presumably keeps happening. But probably to the surprise of the higher-ups. After all, the hospital was doing fine, right? Of course all the staff were complaining of overwork and a lack of resources in every meeting, but they could always be fobbed off with the promise of more help sometime in the future; the work was mostly getting done, so the issue couldn't be too urgent.

It's not like some nanny who doesn't even work for the hospital could go out of town for a weekend for the first time in three years, and get the only public pediatrics ward in the area shut down for a week.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Anybody else have an instance where their shoulder was bent weird while doing something and it felt like it was out of place but you could still use it and popped it right back but now it does that same thing every once in awhile and you’re starting to wonder if you dislocated it and healed it wrong?

[ineffabeatlemindpalace]

Something about really liking my high school teacher and studying theatre at uni that came to haunt me with Rhys playing a drama teacher.

[esleep]

i actually do kinda like delivering groceries on the side because it gives me such a unique cross-section of the community. i never know whose groceries im shopping for until i finish the delivery and see them/their home and it's like it adds more detail to the picture of who they are. the baby supplies going to the apartment that i know for a fact is one bedroom (they'll be moving soon - i bet they're apartment hunting, i hope they find a place). the new cat litter box, bowl, and kitten food going to the house covered in "i <3 my dog" paraphernalia (a kitten definitely showed up on the porch recently and made itself at home). the fairly healthy boring grocery order that includes an incongruous tub of candy-filled ice cream going to the home of an elderly woman with toddler toys in the yard (it's clearly for her grandkids, whom she sees often).

shopping for someone else's groceries is a fairly intimate thing. i've bought condoms and pregnancy tests, allergy medicine and nyquil, baby benadryl and teething gel, a huge pile of veggies paired with an equally huge pile of junk food, tampons and shampoo and closet organizers and ant traps and deodorizing shoe inserts and a million other little things that tell a million different stories in their endless combinations. one time someone had me buy one single green bean. i messaged them to confirm that's actually what they wanted, and they said yes - neither of them liked green beans very much, but they had a baby they were introducing to solid foods, and they wanted to let him try one to see if he liked them. another time i had someone request 50 fresh roma tomatoes - not for a restaurant, but for a person in an apartment. the kitchen behind them smelled like basil and garlic when they opened the door. another time i brought groceries to three elderly blind women who share a house. that was one of the few times i have ever broken my rule and gone inside a place i've delivered to, because they asked if i could place the grocery bags in a specific location in the kitchen for them to work on unloading and there was no way i was going to refuse helping.

i gripe about the poor tippers, but people can also be incredibly kind. one time i took shelter from a sudden vicious hailstorm inside an older lady's home in a trailer park, while i was in the middle of delivering her groceries. we both huddled just inside the door, watching in shock as golf-ball-sized hail swept through for about five minutes and then disappeared. she handed me an extra $10 bill on my way out the door.

when covid was at its deadliest, people would leave extra (often lysol-scented) cash tips and thank-you notes for me taped to the door or partially under the mat. i especially loved the clearly kid-drawn thank you notes with marker renderings of blobby people in masks, or trees, or rainbows. in summer of 2020 i delivered to a nice older couple who lived outside of town in the hills, and they insisted i take a huge double handful of extra disposable gloves and masks to wear while shopping - those were hard to find in stores at the time, but they wanted me to have some of their supply and wouldn't take no for an answer.

anyway. all this to say people are mostly good, or at least trying to be, despite my complaints.

[vanilleandclove]

we’re chained; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader 

in your twenties you took a chance at the brooding attending in the emergency department despite your modus operandi of never bringing your personal life into your career. luckily, jack abbot doesn’t either. only until that becomes a problem. key moments in your relationship with mr. jack abbot.

warnings: soft and filthy smut, crying during/ after sex, ptsd, arguments about state of relationship (this is based on an actual convo i had with a man lol), angst, heather and robby situationship, reader has a sister, alcohol consumption- covid, death, anti-vaxx views mentioned, I AM A DOC MARTENS BEX CONNOISSEUR- i hiked in them, trump is unfortunately canon, age gap: reader is mid 20s, jack early 40s. word count: 5.3k notes: situationships are my version of vietnam, listen to solo by frank ocean and hey by the pixies. oh they are so every breath you take by the police. also the reader is canonically a millennial mb.

next - thank you anon

august 20, 2015

“Doctor L/n, how do you treat compartment syndrome?” a voice pulled you out of your thoughts, severely regretting the only four hours of sleep given to you and shots of tequila with a girl you met at a bar down the street from your apartment.

“Fasciotomy with ortho consulting” you answered, the bright white LED lights did nothing to remedy the pounding headache.

“Half correct, do you know why?” Doctor Adamson instigated, he was the senior attending for Pittsburgh Trauma, after seeing the look on your face and four of your colleagues, he chose to answer himself “Trauma surgeons are the bottom of the food chain, work far more hours, earn less, specialize in all- if you’re lucky, you’ll get a consult, other than that, you’re on your own” his eyes bore into you, “Now, Doctor Greene is the surgical mentor for prospective trauma surgeons, he works with me, throughout your residency you will rotate through every specialty, remember, residents do not specialize. You change your path at any time, usually trauma only gets and accepts one fellow. Since you’re getting a taste of trauma today, your attendings are Doctor Robinavitch and Doctor Abbot, they’ve been attendings for a bit, they rule in my stead” Adamson continued on, “Your shift starts now and ends in 12 hours, best of luck”.

“Chopra and L/n, you’re with me, Sawyer and Tate, you’re with Doctor Robby” Doctor Abbot read off a chart, you and Amina Chopra were the only women in the residency program for both physician and surgical- at least first year wise. 

“Jesus it’s like they hire based on looks” Amina turned to you with a smile on her face, “John Hopkins, you?”.

“Boston U” you answered, walking up to Doctor Abbot with her. 

“Normally they don’t hand off surgery to us, last week we had the new interns and med students- it was a bit chaotic but since you’re both surgical junkies, I’ll guess you’re used to it” Doctor Abbot explained, “Also, best of luck to you two, upstairs is nothing but a sausage fest”.

Amina laughed a little too prolonged and loud, “Amina Chopra, graduated top 30 at John Hopkins, interned at University of Maryland” she blurted, her eyelashes fluttering.

Doctor Abbot spared a confused glance, tilting his head with feigned curiosity, “And you?” pointing his pen to you.

“Y/n L/n, dual-enrolled in medical school during undergrad at Boston University, interned at Mass-Gen” you confessed, only gaining an impressed look from both of them.

“Explains why your file says 23” Doctor Abbot responded, “Okay, this is Bridget, our charge nurse, she’s filling in for Dana who’s on maternity leave” he pointed as Bridget lightly waved with the phone tucked in her shoulder.

“Stabbing victims from a domestic dispute 6 minutes out” Bridget told him.

“Alright, trauma rooms are usually always available, boarding isn’t as common here unless there’s a holiday or Steelers game” he explained, “Your best friend is going to be these” Doctor Abbot pulled a pair of blades from his front pocket “I carry extra 11 and 15 blades, y’never know when shit is going to hit the fan”.

That was your first impression of Jack Abbot. His first impressed impression of you was when you were the only one who stopped a bleeder in the trauma room, the blood coated your gown and Amina’s face, you took charge of the trauma room as most just stood there.

Then came the nickname, Rambo. 

october 20, 2015

“Do you know Pixies Doctor Abbot?” you broke the ice as you walked side by side, the cold air Pittsburgh and your lack of a sweater but mediocre layering did not provide the warmth needed. Your nipples became painfully erect and the slightest graze would bring both pleasure and pain.

“Okay one, we’re off clock just call me Jack” he chuckled, “Secondly of course your Mass-ass would ask that, thirdly, how old do you think I am?” he continued to joke.

The low-rise, tight, dark wash, denim jeans and the long sleeve undershirt with a tight fit short sleeve paired with black Doc Martens Bex shoes intrigued Jack as the past months he’s only seen you in black scrubs and sneakers- or your Bexs, like today. As did the navy blue loose shirt and light wash denim intrigued you. His camouflage backpack slung over his shoulder and your black Jansport knocked each other every other move.

“Okay… favorite song?” you asked, as you both stopped at an ice cream parlor just down the street from your apartment and Jack’s house that was a few blocks further.

“Hey” he answered, “Yours?”.

“Where Is My Mind” you responded, “Favorite band?”. You stared in his eyes as you waited for a response, a group of teenagers were in front of you both ordering.

“Pearl Jam”.

“Spoken like a true old man” you smiled, “Favorite Pearl Jam song?”.

“Uh uh, what’s your favorite band Rambo?”.

“Alice in Chains, my dad bought the Dirt CD when I was born” you answered, “Now?”.

“Trick question, it’s in between Last Kiss or Elderly Woman” he answered, his eyes not leaving yours, just in time for you both to order.

“How can I help you guys today?” the server asked, a smile on her face.

“May I get a double scoop on a cone of rocky road?” you asked, moving over for Jack.

“I’ll take a double scoop on a cone too with pistachio cream and pecan delight please” he answered as he scooted to pay, giving the girl a 10 dollar tip in cash- she almost refused before he insisted.

You continued your walk, the ice cream melting as you walked on. Your nose was cold and red beneath your makeup, you felt it become wet from the temperature. Jack laughed as you raced against the clock to finish your double scoop. 

The pizza place next door to your apartment had music playing as couples and families sat together both inside and outside, the song was almost coincidental, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter In a Small Town by Pearl Jam. You smiled, wondering as Jack noticed.

“I guess today’s working in your favor” you looked up at him as he discarded the napkin in his hand. You came to a halt, selfishly wanting to spend more time with him. 

He lightly smiled, “I guess so” you both stared into each other’s eyes as Eddie Vedder’s voice sang in the background, you didn’t dare to blink, fearing he’d disappear. 

You breath sped up as your heart raced, the cold freezing your hands but Jack’s warmth radiated off of him. A human furnace. You licked your lips as if it was a hint, a hint he gladly took as his hand went up to your cheek to move your hair out of the way, wiping the residue of rocky road from the corner of your lip. His thumb lightly grazed your bottom lip as you internally pleaded for him to take action.

It was instant, as if you were magnetic. A beautiful collision to a supernova, as your lips collided and fought for dominance, you quickly surrendered. 

“Come up with me” you whispered against his lips, he held you by your back. He exhaled deeply, craving you.

It took five minutes to get to your unit and crash on your couch with him, you were on top of him, legs on both sides of his waist as his hands found purchase underneath your shirts. 

“Do you have a condom?” you asked in between kisses, Jack nodded against your lips as he unclipped your bra, his thumbs grazing your hard nipples, gaining a moan from you.

“Are you sure you want this?”.

“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re getting at” you backed up, grabbing the lower hem of your shirts to take off, shrugging your bra off with it and throwing them across your small living you, the look on Jack’s face was one of hunger. “Why?”.

“You can always back out if you want” he told you, groping your tits once more as he pulled you down to suck on your nipples. He felt the clench of your pussy through his jeans as his leg and prosthetic supported you. 

You backed away in order to take off his shirt, revealing his sculpted body and freckled, scarred skin. Tales of war and life littered his torso, you only got more and more turned on from seeing him beneath you. You moved off in order to take off your jeans, the denim sticking to your skin. Jack sat up, taking your hips into his hands as he looked at your thin cotton panties, and the damp spot that formed. He kissed your navel, hipbones and thighs, purposely withholding your aching pussy. Your hands found their way to his curled brunette- a tad ginger hair that had a few greys peaking in, squeezing his nape as his mouth covered your pussy over your panties. 

Moans flower out of your mouth as instinct, pulling at the loose curls in the back of Jack’s head, earning a groan from him. His fingers crawled up to the hem of your underwear, pulling them down to reveal your glistening lips. He looked back up to you, your eyes watering from the tiniest amount of pleasure his tongue gave you. He stood up, jeans still on his body as his cock strained against the denim. Your hand cupping him, a smirk gathered on your face.

You walked him to your bedroom that overlooked the sidewalk, you drew your curtains before sitting down on the edge of your bed. You undid his belt, just about to pull his jeans down, his hand stopped you. A wave of insecurity followed upon Jack as his prosthetic got caught on the denim, he shook it off as he proceeded to take off his jeans, slinging them on the floor with his foot. His briefs revealed the hard-on you had given him, his hands going to take it off once more. Your legs screwed shut in a mix of fear and sexual frustration. 

Jack’s bigger than the other men you have taken. Way bigger. Girth wise you almost prayed in solidarity for your vagina.

“You okay?” he breathed, gaining a nod from you, his hand cupped your cheek, angling your head up, “Say it”.

“I’m okay” you answered, you were hungry, feverish even.

He satiated your thirst and hunger, again and again. Not a care for your neighbors, your bedsheets, your apartment that smelt like candle wax that drizzled down your bodies, the sun that peaked through in the morning as he took his leave while you slept.

Leaving you confused with a significant ache between your thighs and knees.

october 31, 2015

Jane Doe was all you could get from the 29 year old woman who was hit by a drunk driver at an intersection, it was 10 pm and already overtime. Except you were the one who volunteered to be oncall last week. 

You were stubborn she could be brought back even despite her organs failing. She was the same age as your sister.

“L/n it’s a lost cause, step aside” Abbot’s stern voice broke through your ears as you kept on resuscitating the young Jane Doe, “Doctor L/n step down” he pressed further, attempting to grab your hand to pull you off only to be elbowed in the nose. Your ears kept ringing and you couldn’t differentiate the flatline from the minor tinnitus, “Fuck” he groaned, just before he locked your arms above your head.

The flatline blared out in the room as it was just you, Jack, and Jane Doe, your face red with anger and resentment, just as red as the blood that gushed out of Jack’s nose. Jack reached over above your head to trigger the alarms to silence, you were the first to make a sound, a sucked in breath followed by a light wail.

Was it the dead woman who reminded you of your sister? The fact that Jack fucked you 11 days ago and has since ignored you profusely? The overwhelming flow of trauma the past hour that has since died down? Or was it you? You and your inappropriate feelings for your attending that surfaced when he kissed your forehead as you came, the feelings when he kissed your breasts and fondled them like no man ever did, when he stared into your eyes as his thumb and index finger pinched your clit with precision as he other hand was occupied in your throbbing heat. The vibrant hickeys that have now faded to a whisper of what they once were.

“Go home” Jack stated, pulling you away from your thoughts, “I’ll have you reassigned by the turn of the week” he cleared his throat.

You shook your head, “I’m finishing my shift and getting the fuck out of here” you wiped your tears and pushed the doors wide open, finding solace in an empty patient room.

Then the curtain was pulled back by none other than Robby, “Do I even wanna know why Abbot’s bleeding and you’re crying like a puppy just died?”.

Your throat was burning and sore, the eyeliner that coated your waterline was smeared and running. You pressed your lips into a tiny line, “It’s nothing” your emotions forbade you from speaking any higher, or even adequately communicating.

“Doctor Greene wants you to scrub in for thoracotomy, you sure it’s nothing Rambo?” his eyebrow raised, “You did good tonight, if anything, we learned a lot from you”.

You nodded as a way of thanking him before getting up from the bed you sat on, the world kept spinning even after the one-night stand of your life.

december 20, 2015

“Well honey how’s residency going?” your mom asked, “Meet anyone?” She was wrapping presents as Notting Hill played in the back.

There was Jack, who you’ve had the displeasure of working with the past week. He grilled into you hard, only for two days ago, he took you into the supply closet and fucked you. Neither of you spoke of it, you had a bruise on your ass from the metal digging into your skin, Jack’s hand gripped onto the railing and bent the metal. 

“It’s going well I think, Amina is nice we go

out every Friday for celebratory drinks. We’re the only female first years”.

“You’re hiding something” she pointed out, seeing your cheeks flush, “Who’s the guy?”.

Motherly intuition.

“There is no guy- at least officially”.

“Y/n! Please tell me you’re being safe about it” she sighed in disbelief, chuckling lightly.

“I am! We are!” you confessed.

You sent nudes to him, the dirtiest shit imaginable. He left his dog tags at your apartment yesterday before he left, today you wore them and sent a photo with just them on. Put him in a frenzy for hours. By Christmas he was begging you to come back to Pittsburgh as soon as possible.

The first time you spent the night at his house was December 26, 2015, he picked you up from the airport. A little hurt by the fact that he’d go out of his way just for sex. Work and interpersonal relationships only cloud the mind you kept telling yourself.

july 4, 2016

You never mentioned or asked about Jack’s years in the Marines, afraid it wasn’t your place.

So, in Independence Day fashion, after work you let him stay at your apartment. The firework show took place next to your apartment, you had bought ear plugs just in case.

It wasn’t the firework show that freaked him, if anything it sent off his heart to beat a little faster but nothing too serious. It was the illegal fireworks people threw while he was deep inside of you.

“Don’t stop please” your nails dug into his back, eyes rolling back, your window was open for fresh air just as you heard a whistle. You turned your head, hearing the sound whistle come from outside, paying no mind as you were just about to cum.

Just as an M-80 bursted in the air setting off car alarms in the surrounding area and for Jack to immediately pull out of you and shield your head. 

He stood there, guarding you as another M-100 and some firecrackers went off. When you tried to move he gripped your arm immediately, tightly, his brain was on autopilot.

“Jack let go please” you pleaded, his hand was gripping onto your bone at that point and it hurt, “Jack” you repeated, his pupils blown out and his skin began to sweat as his breathing became uneven.

You couldn’t move neither could he, you wrapped your hand around the one that gripped your arm painfully, staring into his eyes even if he couldn’t concentrate or control himself. The feeling of your hand led him to grip onto your shoulder tightly, painfully.

And for the first time, Jack frightened you.

“Jack” you whispered, your eyes swelling up with tears even as you fought it off, the death grip he had on your arm and shoulder hurt. “C’mon come back to me” you pleaded, then you figured it out. “Hey Siri, play Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in A Small Town by Pearl Jam” you announced, your phone luckily catching it as the song played softly, enough to be heard.

You tried to lean in for a kiss only for Jack to regain control from the familiarity. Bruises starting to form on your arm and shoulder, you thought nothing of it as he came back to you. 

jack’s 40th birthday - 2017

The first time Jack let you in was the night of his 40th, he had gone out with Robby and some other friends to a sports bar. By the end of the night you were on his mind.

Not the fact that you bypassed his alarm system and stood in his kitchen at 1 am the night of when he got home in nothing but aquamarine lingerie with a cupcake and candle in hand. 

He smiled at the sight and craziness, as much as he did crave you, he was tired. So instead of sex, you put on his spare clothes and cuddled up on the couches watching a replay of the Pirates v. Cubs that you missed. He played with your styled hair, as your legs intertwined with each other, the cool metal sending goosebumps all over your skin. 

He thought you were asleep when he said I love you. 

You weren’t but, you also knew about the amount of beers in his system and the fact that you weren’t dating. Just fucking with a few extra steps. 

Though the next morning you made sure to put the aquamarine lingerie to good use.

january 20, 2018

The first big argument you had was just as your residency was about to end and you had to apply to fellowships across the nation, you knew you’d get the Pitt guaranteed, you were the only one that stuck to trauma. But it was the formality that you were following.

So when Jack found out you had offers on the East Coast and not once told him, he flipped out when you stayed the night.

“Jack, it's my career!” you shouted, you first started fighting in the backyard patio, now you were both in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, the towels from the shower you both took hung on your body, “It’s a formality to apply- they pay me to go there and tour”.

“I just don’t see why there’s a need” he shook his head as he spat out the toothpaste.

“Bullshit, when you were in my place you applied elsewhere too” you raked your fingers through your hair, you felt like shit, like he was undermining your career that you built for yourself, “There’s a need because I’m gifted Jack, you were once in my shoes, I would think you’d be more understanding than this”.

“I am understanding, what I don’t get is why that far?”.

“It’s not binding for fucks sakes” you repeated yourself for the past hour, now you were at your wits end, “I’m not staying to fill some sort of void within you Jack, if I stay it’s for the betterment of myself and my career”.

You wanted to break him for making you feel like you were betraying him from a possibility. To make him feel what he was making you feel. Only thing was you were breaking both of you, not for the greater good, not for yourself or him, for approval that you were enough.

All he could give was a nod, he walked out of the en-suite. Grabbed a few clothes to throw on and slammed the dresser and door. You followed suit as he put shoes on and went to the key rack.

“Where are you going?”.

“I need a breather” he curtly replied, not sparing a glance at you once, a faint sniffle emitted from him.

“And that’s where?”.

“If you thought for even a second that this” he pointed between both of you, “Was filling a ‘void’ within me you’re completely fucking mistaken” he cursed, “I’m leaving, you can go to California for all I fucking care”.

You scoffed in his face, refusing to break, “What did you even want from this huh?” you egged on, “Sex and ‘I love you’s’ without any form of attachment? You lead me on 3- almost 4 years and keep me here ‘cuz I’m good fuck?”.

“We agreed to this!” he became irritated, “You’re the one who insisted that a relationship is only going make it complicated just for sex to be fucking complicated” his blood ran hot, “I have been willing to spare my feelings to cater to you and your lack of commitment with this, now you want to leave”.

“It’s a fellowship Jack! It’s a year!” you groaned, “I didn’t think you needed titles and stone cold definitive answers for you to know I love you” you blurted. You never once told him you loved him, whenever he told you he was under the impression you were asleep or unaware.

He was stunned at first, “I can’t do this right now with you” he continued on with leaving.

You wouldn’t see him for another four hours, by the time it reached 12 am you were worried he got into a bar fight, car crash, got shot in an accident- you were paranoid beyond words and reduced to tears.

When Jack came back home he shot you a text, ‘Come outside’. It was freezing and you still went anyway, seeing him sit on his truck bed opening in his driveway.

You took the spot next to him, shivering slightly. “I haven’t felt this way about someone in my life since…” Jack trailed on, “I want you to further your career, I want you to accomplish fucking feats in trauma surgery. Just as much as I want to go home with you or to you. I can’t be selfish about it, but I am, and it’s not fair to you”.

“I want to stay”.

“But-“.

“I want to stay” you repeated, “It’s not entirely because of you, it’s because of this” you used your finger to draw a circle in the air, “As of right now they’re are 7.6 billion people in this world and only one of them I can be everything I want to be with” you cheekily confessed, “So it’s ‘but’ nothing. I’ve been wanting to be with you since I met you. I just thought people would think it’s preferential treatment and I fucked my way up”.

“I can’t hold you back”.

“You’ve taught me enough to blow those fucking boards and competency exams through the roof- I mean I did a lot of the work but you are quite the teacher” you responded, “Plus, when you’re frail and old we can go to California”.

Jack laughed, you spent the rest of the night cuddling, just before you lightly slapped him for worrying you. 

december 24, 2018

It was your first Christmas together. You told your parents there was no possibility of you being able to go, the ED is always swamped during the holiday season. You and Jack had a promise to keep: home by 1 am, warm shower together then presents and maybe sex unless you both crash.

It was 11 pm and your hand was deep in a man’s chest cavity, “Push another round of epi” you demanded, Greene nowhere to be found, you were just a fellow, technically not fully authorized to perform surgery especially in a trauma room.

“Okay no everyone stop, push local anesthesia, I’m going in, I need new gloves and protection glasses now” you demanded, getting a few looks from the interns.

“Y/n cardio is swamped, now’s not the time for a cardiac ablation, especially here” Princess muttered to you, you looked up.

“Seal off the doors, I want only authorized personnel in here only, call Greene, tell him I’m doing a cardiac ablation, our patient has an irregular heartbeat, I need to control that before anything else, I’m going to close him up” you instructed, “Princess please get me a catheter with electrodes”.

“Abbot has them next door” she responded, you looked at the nurse on the phone.

“Call Abbot and tell him I need a catheter with electrodes immediately, he’s authorized to come in”.

“What the fuck is she doing?” Jack cursed under his breath as he made his way downstairs, seeing you close up the Santa impersonator. “Cardiac ablation?”.

You nodded, “Patients stable and closed up, Jesse cut off his pants for me” you told him.

“Can I stay to watch?” he breathed your neck, handing you the catheter.

“Not too close or else I’ll be sticking this in you” you murmured back, Jack took his place next to the monitors.

“I need all the interns to the back, you may not get any closer than that, if you’re paged I’ll clear it later” you shouted, Princess handed you your 11-blade as well as moved the stray pieces of hair.

You made the incision on the groin, inserting the catheter while applying cryoablation. As the scar tissue formed, his arrhythmia stopped completely and he was stabilized, you did it within 10 minutes in complete silence.

“I know you did not just perform surgery unauthorized in a non-sterile trauma room” Gloria’s voice boomed none less than a minute after, the entire floor heard her grilling into you.

All you could do was laugh at it, you saved a man’s life and cured his arrhythmia, he was conscious before your shift ended and gave his thanks, luckily, he didn’t need a pacemaker. He did guarantee that when and if you have kids, he’ll be glad to be Santa for them.

The drive home was quiet as it was 3:40 am in Pittsburgh, snowing and windy. Jack and you took separate cars and he made it home before you. You cursed today as your back and feet hurt, you bruised your hand twice over, and you missed the celebration with Jack.

When you parked next to Jack’s truck in the driveway, the garage being a mess from the Christmas bins being everywhere, you could almost crash, but you’d prefer Jack’s warmth over suffocating in a car so you opened the garage door and went inside. 

Greeted with candles and rose petals all over the place as Frank Sinatra’s rendition of The Christmas Song played. You could cry right then and there when you turned your head to face the living room, seeing the fireplace burn and the Christmas tree lit.

Jack’s hands found their way to your coat, startled for a second from wondering where the hell he came from. He took it off, hung it on the coat rack and let you walk through the house.

“There’s a bath drawn with your name on it Rambo” he whispered in your ear as he ghosted a kiss on your neck, you giggled from not having heard that nickname in over a year. “After we can drink that wine you’ve been talking about the past week, open a few presents…”.

“Wait for me?” you whispered back.

“Always”.

You didn’t make it to open presents, falling asleep on the couch on top of Jack after two glasses of wine. Thankfully, that didn’t become a tradition, you made it a habit to take day shifts during holidays. The next year he gave you an all-inclusive spa membership, you got him a new grill. It was a quiet moment for you both every year, a comforting quiet moment.

august 20, 2020

“You’re working tonight baby?” you questioned, as you poured two cups of hot cocoa for Jack’s niece and nephew. Jack placed a kiss on your cheek. 

Since the pandemic, you were hardly working, they strictly put surgical teams as oncall only as a safety measure. But you saw the strain on Jack. So when his brother insisted on breaking lockdown protocols and having his children stay over, he was displeased and stressed.

“Yeah, Adamson’s not doing well, Robby wants me to rotate out with him” he told you, “I think him and Collins are a thing” he chose to gossip.

You scoffed, “After all the shit he gave you for being with me he does that? At least we were in different departments but they better hope no one finds out” you then added, “But I do love Heather so good for him”.

Jack smiled before looking at you a tad bit more seriously, “I may be back tomorrow or in two days, you think you can drop them off at my brothers?”.

“Yeah might just force them to get vaccinated too” you tried to lighten the mood, “Seriously they’re the first to come to you for medical advice but when it comes to preventive medicine they get psyched out” you sighed.

“Trust me I know” he shook his head, there was a comfortable pause between the two of you, one of knowing and begging to be safe, “I love you”.

“I love you” you replied before kissing him, “Stay safe please hon” he bid his farewells to his niece and nephew who were engulfed in monopoly on the island counter. 

When he came home, he broke the news about Adamson, spent the day holding you in bed as his brother bit the bullet and picked the kids up. You were worried about Jack’s health with the sleepless nights, he insisted you were becoming stir crazy. The next week you had six surgeries, Greene would’ve assisted you but he retired the month before, leaving the trauma department to you. 

dividers by @cafekitsune