#write it bitches
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my favorite scene in all of literature is when Neil Josten wakes up in Columbia after being drugged, hurls an alarm clock at Aaron, dumps his water on the floor and throws the cup at Aaron, stuff his clothes down the toilet and squeezes out through the window, has the foresight to call Matt from a pay phone to protect his shit, hitch hikes back to campus, eyes back to brown?? shows up on Wymack’s door like 😜 and reveals he could speak German the whole time?? CHARACTER OF ALL TIME, that is a protagonist who knows how MOVE THE MFING PLOT ALONG
#My dad always told me one of the most important things about writing#Is that your protagonist needs to be the one driving the plot lol#like Neil really mfing does that#He gets the plot moving and when it does it HAULS ASS#One of the most beautiful things about tfc#Is that Nora creates the most insane world and as a reader your like??😂 wtf#But then she writes a character who is perfectly suited to deal with that insane world#it’s so endlessly satisfying to read. All the characters speak other languages perfectly for some reason? No worries.#so does Neil. They like fight with knives and love to slam each other into walls? NO WORRIES#so does Neil#Bitch and he’s 5’3???? MY MAN#Novel of all time#protagonist of all time#Solidified its place in the canon of great literature#nora sakavic#all for the game#aftg#the foxhole court#tfc#neil josten
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feel like psych deserves more credit for manifesting guest stars from almost every single property it referenced. i know plenty of shows have pop culture relevant guest stars but none of them make references that are so very specific and none of them get 99% of their references to actually show up. like psych will throw out a name exclusively for the bit and then an unpredictable number of episodes/seasons later that person will literally show up as murderer/victim/random extended family member of the week with no comment. george takei. william shatner. cybill shepherd from moonlighting. almost every single actor from the breakfast club (one of them recurring!). biff and doc brown from back to the future. dr frankenfurter himself. literally carey elwes. john cena??? john rhys davies. half the cast of twin peaks. the original "come on son" guy. alan ruck. michael rooker. both leads from she's all that. winston from ghostbusters. bud's mom from the cosby show. curt smith from tears for fears (who also sang live with them at an event, like, twice). they mentioned billy zane and val kilmer so many times per season that through sheer willpower they got billy zane and val kilmer to both show up in their series finale. those guys committed to their bits so hard that they ended their show with one of the most diversified and stacked cameo rosters in tv & thats honestly so funny and iconic of them
#its like the opposite of that thing bbc shows do where every guest star is just the same 3 british people u always see#with psych u can literally never guess which bad bitch is gonna walk thru the door next#psych#phil.txt#can u tell im procrastinating finishing the last chapter of the zombie au by writing this post
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Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.
Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.
RIP decency indeed.
#Archive of our Own#Ao3#Ao3 Comments#Writing#Fanfiction#Fanfic Writing#I wrote over 100k on that fic before burnout took hold#I poured my heart into what I did manage to finish#adhd’s a bitch that doesn’t always let me write what I want to write but I got that far#don’t make me feel ashamed because you didn’t get to see the ending
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test subject.
early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost
#guys i am holding gaz so tenderly rn please let me cook i promise to get him through this#also i love when i get to write a villain who hams it up a bit#thank you graves for being the perfect canvas for that you illustrious bitch#kyle gaz garrick#phillip graves#valeria garza#monster 141 au#giragi art
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A few hours later:

Wade might be a little scared of his girl but his jealousy runs deeper
#wade's a quite possessive bitch#if someone flirts with or eyes his peanut up they die#two people died in the course of dp & w because of that#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#wade wilson#james logan howlett#poolverine#deadclaws#peanutbub#old man yaoi#marvel memes#mcu avengers edits#imagine your otp#otp prompts#writing promt#ryan reynolds#hugh jackman#deadpool x wolverine#mischievous thunder
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Hi my name is Don Quixote of La Mancha the Knight of the Rueful Figure and I have a rueful figure (that's how I got my name) with purple bruised ribs and tall stature and gaunt features and hair turning gray and a rather hooked aquiline nose and large black drooping mustaches and a lot of people tell me I look like Amadís of Gaul (AN: if u don’t know who he is begone!). I’m not related to Lady Oriana but I wish I was because she’s an incomparable flowering beauty. I’m a knight errant but some of my teeth and grinders are missing. I have long lank limbs. I’m also a defender of damsels, protector of orphans, succourer of the needy, righter of wrongs, undoer of injustice, and I wander a magic countryside called the mountains of Spain where I’m in my first year of knighthood (I’m forty-nine). I’m a gentleman (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly armor. I love my great-grandfather's forgotten corner of the house and I cobble together all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a doublet of fine cloth with matching shoes and velvet breeches and a helmet, morion, visor, breastplate and backpiece. I was riding outside La Mancha. It was early morning so the rays of the sun fell obliquely and the heat did not distress me, which I was very happy about. A lot of giants stared at me. I put up my pasteboard visor at them.
#surprise bitch#I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me#thinking of bringing this account back#think 2024 needs it#PS I wnot update ubtil u give me goood revows!#not a sonnet#don quixote#miguel de cervantes#literature#my immortal#fanfic#five good revoiws and i sonnet the original my immortal intro#ten good reieuoiws and I keep writing this nonsense?#tara gilesbie#world literature#books#throwback#fanfiction#poetry?#knight#chivalry#knightposting#knightcore#armor#17th century#slay#ladies#historical#medieval#unholy
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— osamu quietly sighs to himself as he hears an irritated grumble from your side of the bed, along with the soft huff of the bedsheet as you shift uncomfortably. his mild exasperation dissipates quickly, however, when he hears you whimper and sniff.
osamu tosses a pillow aside as he turns over to check on you, spread eagle on the bed with your forearm over your eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asks in a hoarse whisper.
you’ve got an awful pout on your face, and he can see a tear slide down your cheek and onto your lips in the faint light. osamu watches in slight amusement when you lick it off. he clears his throat. “what’s wrong?” he asks again.
there’s a pause as you sniff loudly. you dig your palms into your eyes. “it’s hot,” you say, finally. osamu’s deadpan as he leans on his elbow to look at you. that’s all?? “well, yeah, baby,” he replies plainly. “t’s summer.”
“it’s so hot, i can’t sleeeeep,” you groan, your leg swinging over to land on top of his. “‘m so tired, ‘samu. and that fan’s doing jackshit.” “it’s literally in yer face, babe,” osamu tries, but you let out another weary sob that makes him roll his eyes as he starts to get up, peeling your sticky leg off of him as he does.
“where’re you going?” you mumble, still sniffling. “gettin’ ya a fan,” osamu grunts, feet dragging sleepily across the wood floor.
he comes back a few minutes later with a large handfan, lying back next to you on his side. osamu snaps it open and starts fanning you— face, chest, stomach, and back up again. you relax, settling into the bed contentedly, and he can’t help but scoff.
“yer sucha drama queen, ya know that?” he tells you, his voice full of affection. “seriously.”
note: i think i spent more time debating between a colon and an em dash than i did writing the damn thing
#coming out of the writer's grave to write yet another osamu drabble that has to do with a hot night#this is for all my dramatic bitches out there#we are one!#miya osamu#osamu miya x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#haikyū!!#haikyuu fluff#dorian.writes
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writer bitches be scrolling on tumblr knowing damn well they need to finish those drafts.
#it’s me#i’m the writer bitch#black writer#writing struggles#writing stuff#fanfic writers#black fanfic writer#black fanfic#black reader#guilty as charged#my bad og#i really be scrolling and not writing#sorry
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need a jealous bsf!rafe x reader where he is possessive and doesn’t want other guys touching her even though he touches other girls, so she is basically over it and at a party, she dances on another guy and he gets mad



౨ৎ in which bsf!rafe just can’t help wanting to protect you.
you were done with rafe cameron. you’ve decided it. he was your best friend, sure, but he was controlling, mean, overly protective, and he acted like he owned you or something. so you were completely done with him, forever.
this is the third time you’ve promised yourself that, and news flash — you never dropped him.
it wasn’t your fault, you try to tell yourself every time. he just wouldn’t let you leave him, shutting you up whenever you’d even try and be reasonable with him, yelling louder than you or slamming his palm over your mouth. but a little part of you knows that you like the attention. you like that rafe cares so much about you, even if it does ruin your chances of getting a boyfriend. today is the day that you break the pattern though, and rebel against his constant authority.
parties are where rafe thrives. he’s like a celebrity, it always wonders you how much people love him. during parties, he keeps less of an eye on you, assuming you’re just busy gossiping with your friends. but little does he know, you’ve found a boy — it wasn’t often you’d get the opportunity to chat with a boy that wasn’t rafe, and you were loving every second of it. you felt so free from your friend’s gaze, listening to the boy talk, his deep voice vibrating your brain.
but the issue was, the boy was boring. he didn’t talk about cool things, like dirtbikes or his life or death adventures or money. you hated to say it, but he just wasn’t rafe. your mind kept flashing back to him, how much more you smile and enjoy his company. maybe rafe was right. you just didn’t need boys when you have him.
you’re so close to excusing yourself from the boy, going back to rafe’s arm and giggling with him and talking with your faces really close together. you glance back to where he is, ready to retreat, until you see it. you see her.
you’re not sure who she is, but she bothers you. her hair is so gorgeous and healthy, and you can’t see her face from behind but she must be gorgeous. her arm is on rafe’s bicep — your bicep, the one you always hang onto while you’re walking with rafe. you hate that you’re jealous. rafe’s your friend, not your boyfriend, you have no reason to be. but it’s like you can’t control it, your rage, and before you know it, you’re blinking back any potential tears and touching on this boy — this stranger — like there’s no tomorrow. tyla is blasting through the speakers, and yours and these boy’s hands are all over each other’s bodies. you really hope rafe sees you like this, drunk off the smirnoff pink lemonades and enjoying another mans company.
it really doesn’t take long for him to notice. he’s so predictable. shrugging the girls hand off of him, rushing over to his dear friend to get her away from this lowlife.
usually he’d reason with you. coax you away from the boy nicely and lecture you. but he’d had a few beers and a line of coke and he was in no mood for politeness. a rough hand pushes the boy away by the chest, and rafe isn’t muttering a word to anyone, grabbing your wrist and stomping away with you stumbling behind.
he pushes you into a spare bedroom, the first private place he could find. sitting you on the edge of the bed, he starts pacing in front of you and rubbing his face as if this was hurting his head. it’s like your brain flicks a switch, back to “rafe rafe rafe” as you’re sat there with tears brimming your eyes, fiddling with your manicure as you bat your eyelashes up at him, remembering the girl flirting with him, and now you making him mad, and now he’s got you in a puddle of guilt.
“shit— it’s like, you never do what i say, huh?” he mutters, still pacing. “you know i do everything to protect you, kid. you even know who that fuckin’ guy was? no, m’sure you don’t, cause you don’t think. thought by now my voice would be in your pretty head, there to help you make some smart decisions every once in a while. but nah, nah, you see one other boy and it’s back to square one with you,”
you go to speak, glossy lips parting, but he shuts you up with a quick “no”, and stopping pacing to go kneel in front of you.
“everything i do — for you, okay? for you. my girl,” he often calls you that, it makes you weak every time. he grabs your hands. “stop fiddling, paid for this polish.” you stop instantly. “i know— i know you think that my protectiveness is, uh, stupid, but i need to be like this, or you’re gonna get hurt. i know you, baby. i need to be all over you for you to even have a slight awareness to not do stupid things. so i do take some ownership over you in that sense—“
you cut him off, muttering a, “don’t want you to take ownership.”
he huffs. “yeah, but i do, so…” he shrugs. “you’re mine. my friend, my girl. so i don’t like it when someone else touches my girl, or when you’re the one intiating it. makes me so fuckin’ angry, kid, makes me wanna, like—“ he cuts himself off. “so i need you to knock it off.”
you wanna argue so badly, but your brain turns to mush around him. so you sniffle and nod hesitantly.
“no, i want a ‘yes rafe.’ need your words.”
“i just think that—“ you try.
he cuts you off. “yes rafe. say it with me.”
“..yes, rafe.” you both say.
he squeezes your hands and gets up. “yeah, there you go, good girl. now do you, uh, need a minute, fix your makeup, or d’you wanna go back down there and hang out with me?”
your hand goes to his bicep as you stand up with him, and a ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “wanna go with you,” you say softly, leaning into him a bit.
“yeah, that’s what i thought.”
#౨ৎ isa writes#mm can u guys tell i love his biceps!!!#sorry i wouldve made her more of a bad bitch but thats not who i am#if rafe was near me id start drooling and nodding to whatever hes saying idk#obx#outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#obx x reader#rafe cameron obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#rafe cameron prompt
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hi! i have a little bitch blurb request - piastri sis is on painkillers after a minor surgery or after being at the dentist and while carlos is taking care of her she says things she never would’ve DARED to say out loud - even about the fact she’s been infatuated with him longer than she’ll ever admit 😋
this was so fun write 😭😭 i love my little bitches so much
"Carloooooos," you slur through a mouth full of gauze, reaching blindly for him as the nurse wheels you out. "I missed you. Did you miss me? I was asleep but I missed you."
"Yes, mi amor," he tries not to laugh as he helps you into the car. "I missed you too."
"Your face is so nice," you pat his cheek clumsily. "Like... so symmetrical. Are you real? Maybe I'm dreaming."
He buckles you in carefully. "I'm real."
"Prove it," you demand, then immediately start giggling. "My mouth feels like clouds. Do clouds feel things, Carlos? Are clouds sad?"
"I don't think so-"
"We should ask Lando," you say seriously. "He knows about clouds. He's British. It rains there."
Carlos bites his lip to keep from laughing as he starts driving. You're staring at him with wide, unfocused eyes.
"Your hair is so fluffy," you reach for him, missing completely. "Like a lion. My lion. Did you know lions mate for life? Are we lions, Carlos?"
"Eyes on the road, eyes on the road," he mutters to himself in Spanish, fighting a smile.
"Oh! Spanish!" you perk up. "I know Spanish! Te... te something. What's the word? The love word?"
"Te amo?"
"YES!" you try to clap but miss your hands together. "Te amo! I love you SO much. Like... like more than pizza. And I really love pizza. I think I love you since the first time I called you a stupid little bitch."
"I'm honored-"
"But shhhh," you stage whisper. "Don't tell Carlos. He'll get a big head. His head's already perfect though. How is it so perfect?"
"Mi amor, I am Carlos."
You gasp dramatically. "No way! Since when?"
"Since birth, I think."
"Birth!" you suddenly look devastated. "I wasn't there for your birth! I missed baby Carlos! He was probably so cute. With tiny baby abs."
He can't hold back his laugh this time. "I don't think I had abs as a baby."
"Lies," you poke his arm, missing twice. "You came out of the womb with a six-pack. And perfect hair. And that smile that makes me want to take off my-"
"Okay!" he interrupts quickly. "How about some water?"
"Water is boring," you pout. "You're not boring though. You're exciting. Like racing. Vroom vroom."
He hands you a water bottle anyway, helping you drink without choking.
"My hero," you sigh dreamily. "Saving me from death by water. We should get married."
He nearly swerves. "What?"
"Yeah! Right now! Call Lando, he can be the flower girl. Oscar can be the ring bear."
"Ring bearer?"
"No, ring BEAR. He has to dress as a bear. It's traditional."
"Since when?"
"Since right now. I just decided. I'm very smart, Carlos. The doctor said so."
"Did he?"
"Mhmm. He said..." you scrunch your face in concentration. "Actually I don't remember. But I'm sure he did. Because I am smart. Smart enough to date you. HA! Take that, Instagram models!"
"What Instagram models?"
"The ones that slide into your DMs," you try to look stern but your numb face isn't cooperating. "I see them. With their perfect teeth. Well guess what? I have no teeth now! I win!"
"You still have teeth, mi amor. Just minus the wisdom ones."
"Wisdom..." you gasp. "Carlos! Am I going to be stupid now?"
"No-"
"Quick! Ask me something smart!"
"Like what?"
"Like... what's your favorite color?"
"That's not really a test of wisdom-"
"BLUE!" you shout triumphantly. "See? Still smart! And your butt looks really good in blue. Like REALLY good. Science fact. I used to stare at your butt when I pretended to hate you."
Finally, you reach home. Carlos helps you out of the car as you ramble about his "science butt" and whether lions know about race cars.
"Time for rest," he says, laying you on the bed.
"No," you grab his shirt. "Stay. Protect me from the tooth fairy. She's a thief, Carlos. A professional thief."
"I'll protect you," he promises, sliding in beside you.
"My hero," you mumble, already drifting off. "Hey Carlos?"
"Yes?"
"If we have babies, will they have wisdom teeth? Or will they be born wise? Like little wise lions...Or wise little little bitches."
You fall asleep before he can answer, drooling slightly through the gauze.
And Carlos can only smile.
#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fanfiction#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz smau#little bitch#carlos sainz writing#cs55 x reader#cs55 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader
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HI RUE :) after reading the black cat kiri smau, I was wondering......
if u could possibly do a super nice/kind reader x bakugo
preferably a fem reader but I will read literally anything u write 😮💨
okay now lets imagine: y/n always being "too nice" and putting others in front of her own needs (not a doormat but too willing to inconvenience herself) and bakugou recognizing this and not exactly telling her to change but rather doing things that makes her feel special and validated AAUUGGGHH
little body big heart // katsuki bakugou









#this was actually so hard for me to write#souless bitch y/n is my default I GUESS the way i was struggling to make them nice#mha#bnha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha smau#bakugo katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#mha bakugou#bakugou x you#bakugo katuski#bnha bakugou#bakugou smau#katsuki smau
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tips for writing good romance tension
inside jokes— brings the reader into the relationship. create something at the beginning of the story and then bring it up in the middle or at the end. reader catches it at the exact moment the couple does, making the moment more rewarding for the characters and reader all at once
specific attention paid to the same detail scene over scene— pick one or two details that the pov character notices (a physical detail on their partner, something about their hair or their body, the way a piece of clothing looks on them, the way sunlight/moonlight/candlelight falls on their face) and bring the detail up several times, characters in love will notice specific things and keep coming back to them, this repetition will get the reader to think, “yes, i get it too”
focus on visible signs of emotion from both parties— a racing pulse, a flush creeping up someone’s neck, a smile, a bouncing knee, a shiver, either from the pov character or the partner, love makes you crazy and visible emotion noticed by one or both parties builds the crazy and crazy tension
at least one sensory detail that comes up during a critical moment— a smell, a feeling, warmth, light, pick something sensory and bring it up again just before a kiss or a moment of closeness, calling back to an earlier scene, bring the reader into the relationship by making them also remember how this started and how they got here, involve them in the chase and the reward
#and who am i to give any advice?? especially for writing?? only the stupidest bitch on earth who reread a bunch of her own fics today#and realized most comments talked about romantic tension#and i love to yap about writing#so here is how I do it#about writing#my writing
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Me, working on the teenpregnant Shen Yuan: Well, Yue Qingyuan wouldn't be a bad father to Shen Yuan...
My inner Peerless Cucumber: Are you CRAZY? Of course he would be. This man doesn't have the courage to give AN explanation. He just bows his head and apologizes. He never defends the man he clearly loves; he simply believes others' horrible assumptions and tries to excuse him. And it doesn't matter if Shen Jiu makes those accusations real, proving him, proving what he will do. NO! Yue Qingyuan continues to lower his head submissively, enjoying the contempt because he believes he deserves it. It's what he thinks he deserves. He thinks he deserves that punishment, that making him suffer like that makes his Xiao Jiu happy. EVEN IF IT IS NOT SO! He just assumes and acts, but even in his assumptions, never gives rise to what Shen Jiu really feels or wants. He makes him look worse even unintentionally, when Shen Jiu just wanted a fucking explanation.
Now put a fucking baby on the table. Shen Jiu will say: This is MY son. Mine and no one else's. And Shen Jiu will wait (as always, waiting) Yue Qingyuan gets some balls and say: No, he's my son too, let me be there for him. Let me provide as his father, let me take care of him. Shen Jiu will wait for Yue Qingyuan to break through his mask of indifference, to ruin his fake smile, to do something. For God's sake. To take the initiative for once in his life.
... And Yue Qingyuan wouldn't. He would respect that Shen Jiu has said that he doesn't recognize him as the other father of his child. He would keep his distance, giving expensive gifts to the child who grows every day with his Xiao Jiu's face but his own dark, gentle eyes. He remains like the uncle, the Zhangmen-shibo, a martial uncle who gives gifts, occasionally visits for tea, who cares about his health, education or cultivation.
And Shen Jiu hates it. He hates his mask. He wants to tear it off and scream at him. But, think about it, Qi-ge wants fucking torture, there's his torture. There's his son, if he has the balls to claim him. There is the son with the huge heart and the poisonous tongue. There is the son who will always look to others before himself, and at the same time will fight tooth and nail for what he wants. You want that child to be yours, Qi-ge? Have the guts and claim him, do something, take the initiative, DO. SOMETHING.
But Yue Qingyuan won't do it because he's convinced of his own shit. He believes in his heart that he is doing the right thing by respecting Shen Jiu and his decision, just as he believes he was doing the right thing by apologizing and not explaining. And Shen Jiu boils in fury daily.
And Shen Yuan grows up with his A-die Shen Jiu, and the distant Yue Qingyuan, Zhangmen-shibo, the martial uncle who he discovers at some point that he is also his father. A father who chooses distance over affection, who chooses respect over choose Shen Yuan or his own parental rights.
Me, looking at my inner Peerles Cucumber with FEAR: ... Bro, are you okay? Do you need therapy? ... Okay, so how the hell do we add that...
#svsss#scum villian's self saving system#svsss au#svsss ideas#mxtx svsss#shen jiu#yue qingyuan#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#my fic#my fic writing#the inner peerless cucumber#that messy bitch we all have inside#qijiu#i definitely have thoughts#so many thoughts#but yue qingyuan would only be a good father in a qijiu that has already communicated#unfortunately these two have not yet gone to couples therapy#their relationship will develop in the background of this story? probably#this was supposed to be a pregnant teen drama NO THIS SHIT
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while waiting for demo 4, I'm gonna hatred posting for now
#block tales#hatred#myart#I really like fear part#when it told us outright that hatred is a fake bitch#and its forest like map#honestly the whole dream world reminds me of ib's painting world#edit: I meant to write 'sleep like cat pose'
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Wondering Why
Summary: When someone you love gets in an accident your parents are forced to come see you. Jack sees why you don’t talk to them, you wonder what you did to deserve him as he continues to pick up your broken pieces
Jack AbbotXfem!reader - established relationship (married)
wc:7.7k
tags: Prosthetic!Jack Abbot, age gap(like late 20s/mid 40s probs)Death, gore, angst, medical innacuracies, descriptions of suicidal tendencies, cursing, fighting, smut, literally SO MUCH PLOT w/happy ending porn, hurt/comfort, Jack going soldier mode and being defensive against your asshole dad
This fic had been living in my head all week so you KNOW I had to post it before tonight!!! Hope y'all enjoy!
December in Pittsburg meant snow and ice, and black ice. On top of your nightly regulars you now had to worry about car wrecks. Junkies, slip and falls, college kids coming home from break and doing stupid shit never phased you. Emergency medicine was your life. But you’d never admit that you lived for the thrill, so quiet nights were absolutely grueling.
Hour 10
“Mmmm, it’s too qui-” Shen began as he set your coffee down.
“Shen I am not in the fucking mood,” you counter with a deadly tone. Jack giggled from his station, reaching somewhere for Shen’s banned words jar. One dollar for saying any of the banned words but he had to pay 5 bucks if a banned word flipped the whole shift. Thankfully before he could finish the sentence you were whisked away. Shen shrank under your glare as he dumped a couple bills in the Jar.
“Doc…do you have to tell my mom about this?” The 19 year old boy asked sheepishly as you stitched up his leg.
“As long as you can hide the stitch and come up with an excuse for the scar then no,” you placed a gentle hand on his leg as he flinched, “but you probably shouldn’t be stealing vapes and running off. The black ice will kill you before the vapor does.” He rubbed his hands against the back of his head and nodded solemnly as you gave him his care instructions and sent him on his way. You rolled your eyes and let out a small scoff, at least he seemed to understand your tone. Kids these days. Jeez. A knock broke you from your thoughts.
“Doctor Abbot?” Macie Spencer leaned in the doorway, her usual sunny demeanor had a cloud over it.
“Hey Macie, what’s up?” you stood from your chair coming to meet her. Kiara was the day shift social worker and a wonderful woman, but Robby’s daughter Macie was the human embodiment of sunshine and kindness no matter what. Seeing her shaken bothered you.
“Dr. Jack is looking for you, I’m gonna keep the family occupied as long as I can but it’s, it’s bad.” You trashed your gloves and ripped a new pair from the box on the wall before rushing to the commotion. Two nurses and security had a man and a woman separated, though the separation just made them shout louder. Jack was on the ground doing compressions on a teenager…whose mouth was covered in blood. You fell next to him, taking over compressions so he could run to grab what he needed. Jack kept asking what she took with no answer from either parent, they were in hysterics. You couldn’t help but stare at the girl’s father, he seemed disoriented, almost like his body was there but he wasn’t.
“Gurney?!”
“Need to try to get her back first.”
The mother screamed and cried in Bridget's arms, yelling about how ‘it’ was all her husband's fault, her husband took her daughter away. You tried to hold back your own familial feelings as you continued to do your job, stopping and continuing as Jack instructed. After getting a line in, you moved the girl to a gurney, tubes were everywhere and monitors beeped and blared off and on. You weren’t losing her but you weren’t getting her back either. Her BP and heart rate were high but her blood ox was dangerously low, her lips beginning to turn an odd shade of purple.
“Macie, find out what the hell she took!” You yelled out into the hall, praying Macie would hear you over the yelling. After a few minutes of needed silence, she slid into the room.
“Dad said it could be ketamine….or antifreeze.” What. The. Fuck.
“We gotta-,” You looked to Jack, eyes wide with horror. He’d already read your mind and was setting the pump up, after prepping the girl he turned the machine on. Her stomach contents were a sickly green, chunks of her stomach lining coming out with it. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to hold back your gag, Jack's hand lingering over the small of your back. After pumping her stomach you pushed charcoal into her IV. Your team worked for another thirty minutes before you would have to deliver the news that she likely wouldn’t be coming off of a ventilator. You ripped your gloves off, in what scenario would she be drinking fucking antifreeze?! Tears began to prick in your eyes but you forced them away, you were prepared to go to that father with a face of stone.
“I’ll talk to dad, you talk to mom. Keep them separated.” You stated, Jack shot up a brow in your direction, until he caught onto what you were thinking. He squeezed your hand tightly, his wedding band pushed into the flesh of your palm, grounding you. Dad seemed disoriented as you delivered the news, it wasn’t shock but pure denial. You tried to press him for more details but the death of his daughter seemed to be the final crack in the wall, you gripped his elbow, catching him as his knees buckled. “Sir, I am so sorry. This is unimaginable. If she took something that she bought and you knew..I need you to tell me. Help me save someone's son or daughter?” He looked to you with wide, bloodshot eyes, and solemnly shook his head no.
“It’s too late.” Was all he said. You took a deep breath and let him know that Macie would lead him through the next steps with the police.
You sat at your station, dragging your hands up and down your face before going back to charting the experiences of the night. A car flew into the ambulance bay, you sighed deeply. What disaster was making its appearance now? The car sped off as you reached the trauma bay doors, yet another homeboy ambulance dumping someone off in the cold. The woman was gaunt, her thin clothes not doing much to shield her from the weather.
“Need some help!” You hollered, carrying the woman into the ED. Jack ran up to you, taking the woman from your tight grasp. The two of you ran to the closest trauma bay and after stripping and gowning her you began to assess. Her skin was pale and taut, lips turning an odd shade of purplish blue. Her veins were bright against her skin, you pulled her lid up, shining a small flashlight in her eyes. “Mmm, pupils aren’t reactive to light..”
“Blood ox is low, her BP is 86/60, systolic is 10mgs, lets see if we can wake her up.” Jack moved quickly to the front of the patient, rubbing her chest roughly with no response. Jack poked at the taut skin, a thin line pressed into his lips. He was worried about something but keeping it to himself. “Push warm fluids, and get her some warming blankets, I’m worried it could be hypotension caused by hypothermia. Keep a close eye on her, page Dr. Abbot as soon as she wakes up.”
Jesse nodded as Taylor ran off to get warming blankets, you collected the woman's things that Chase had left and walked back to your station. Your frown deepened as you found nothing to identify her. “Gotta Jane Doe,” you announced as you started a chart on your laptop. The hospital began to buzz as day shift started to come in, the sun hid away as the day started without her. Jack came up behind you placing a kiss to the top of your head.
7am-Hour 12
“I’m so mad you get to go home while I have to work a double,” you grumbled, Jack laughed into your hair as he leaned down to clock out. How could you stay mad at him when he was just so perfect. He placed a hand on your bicep gingerly and pulled you from your station, before you could protest you were out of the ED and inside the main hospital. Jack slipped your jacket on before following suit, his hand interlacing with your own. His calluses were rough, but a physical attribute of his you loved as he rubbed small circles over your thumb. The two of you were on the roof before you even realized it, sitting against the cold concrete you leaned into your husband.
“Wanna talk about it?” He played with your hair with one hand and rubbed the other one up and down your waist, using enough pressure to keep you awake. You hummed into his neck, just wanting to share a moment alone before you were thrown back to the wolves. The light scruff on his jaw tickled your lips as you pressed in a kiss, bringing a smile to his face, “I wish I could take you home with me…mmm maybe I could convince Robby to cover,” he mused, pressing kisses into your neck. But you knew that wouldn’t happen, Gloria would chew all of your heads off considering you’d already gotten Jack out of working Christmas Eve AND Christmas. Jack had invited guests so PTMC would have to wait. Your silent bliss was interrupted by the snow that began to fall, Jack kissed you deeply, cupping both sides of your jaw before leaving, he’d be back later to pick you up.
Text me if anything comes up, you know i’ll wake up for you.
Your heart swelled as you walked back into the ER with a fresh cup of coffee, that man would truly give the world for you. And you would let him. Dana pulled you into a tight hug as you gave her an update on the teenage girl in South 10 and the Jane Doe in 15.
“Macie is a natural,” you commented to Robby as he sat next to you, your breakfast in hand. “It’s not an easy case but she’s being wonderful, amazing Macie!” Robby smiled and nodded as he slid your breakfast wrap onto a plate.
“Couldn’t be prouder. Make sure you eat. I already watched too many close call collisions on my walk here, could get busy.”
“I can’t believe you still walk in the snow,” you mumbled through chewing, “I swear you’re like part bear!” Robby decided to ignore the bear comment as he got up to do rounds, you scarfed the rest of your burrito down before checking the board. Triage the waiting room, simple enough and a nice buffer from how your night shift ended. Working a double was never fun when you’d already been working 12 hours but you prayed your shift would go smoothly. But there was one of Shen’s banned phrases popping into your head: smooth shift.
Between food poisoning, kids with colds and broken limbs from ice, you checked in on your two night patients. Jane Doe’s condition had improved slightly, and Macie was in a heated discussion with the teenage girl's father. You started to walk towards her, feeling the need to protect her when you were pulled away once again.
“The Cracken is back.” You huffed, hands on your hips as you watched the man thrash in his restraints. Robby rolled his eyes at the nickname, he really didn’t like that ‘the cracken’ had become the patient’s name around the ER.
“Should we sedate him?” Dr. Whitaker asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.
“If you wanna jump in there be my guest but they ace’d him on the ride over,” you flipped your wrist to check your watch. “Give 'em 10 minutes, if he’s still causing problems, come find me.” You clapped his shoulder and went to check in on more patients, confiring with Robby when cases got tough. When the ER seemed to fall into its usual chaos, you took a moment to check on the teenage patient and her parents. When you walked into- Maddy Nichols- room, her mother sat with her holding her hand.
“Hi Mrs. Nichols I haven’t been able to speak with you but I'm Dr. Abbot, my husband and I triaged your daughter last night.” Maddy’s mother looked up to you briefly, her eyes bloodshot and brimmed with tears. You sat beside her, placing your hand over hers. “Maddy’s tox screen came back…do you know why there was antifreeze in her system? I heard you yell that all of this was your husband's fault.” You watched as the young mothers face fell, tears beginning to fall freely.
“He was trying to...to do it himself. He’d blended it in a smoothie so I wouldn’t know but left it out. Maddy saw his and made a fresh one- wa-wanting to sit with her dad and share smoothies. He didn’t clean the blender out…Maddy was just trying to love, love him!” The woman turned and crumpled into your arms. You rubbed her back gently, holding your gaze on Maddy’s gentle face. This poor girl had been taken away from the poor choices of her hurting father. Kiara came in and sat across from the two of you, but you weren’t going to leave until this mother had let out her grief. Robby was on call, the ER could live with one attending for a few minutes.
“I- I’m sorry Dr. Abbot,” Maddy’s mother sniffled, pulling away from you.
“Never, never, apologize for needing to take a minute to grieve. I am so sorry we couldn’t save Maddy, but keep honoring her, talk about her everywhere you go. Listen to her music, watch her favorite movies, and eat her favorite foods when you go out. If you honor her that way she will never leave you.” You squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.
You introduced her to Kiara and explained why she was there and what her purpose was. “If you want me here when you let her go, I will be.” She nodded silently, turning back to her daughter and softly grazing her face. You took a mental picture of the girl with the note of ‘Maddy Nichols, accidental death, beautiful soul.
You would honor her.
Hour 17
The Pitt made it to noon when shit really hit the fan. Dana stood on the nurses station, pulling the intercom phone up with her.
“Code triage, 50 car pileup on the I-, multiple patients are about to be headed this way, move whoever you can upstairs!” Like a well oiled machine everyone worked to move as many healthy people as possible. You were now jumping from patient to patient, trauma’s varied from case to case but your mortality rate was low: for now. You’d just finished relocating a man’s shoulder when Dr. Vienna Summers walked in.
“I’ll finish this, you need to go,” She stepped in, slowly bringing the man's arm down and placing it into a sling.
“Vi, what are you talking about? Are you leaching my patients?” You joked half heartedly, she turned to you and by the look on her face alone you knew it was bad.
“North 8, Mason and some kid...the kid’s fine but Mason is asking for you.”
You were out of room and bolting across the ER without waiting for Vi to finish talking. No, no, no, no. Why Mason? What was your little brother doing in Pittsburg and why did he have to be on the interstate with ice out? When you all but slid into the room there were lines everywhere, his left leg was sliced in multiple spots, bone poking out. No,his leg was shattered. He had a bruise covering the entirety of his chest and deep lacerations to his face.
“Mason??” You ran to his head, he was disoriented but knew you were there, attempting to reach for you, you laid his arm down helping to keep him still. “Talk to me Langdon,” You looked back at Frank who was looking at his leg.
“Lacerations and possible facial fractures, a couple cracked ribs, his hands and arms are okay for the most part but yo-yo is going to have to take him up. I can already tell he’s going to need plates in his leg. The only reason he’s not freaking out is from the morphine.”
“You didn’t give him Ket right?”
Langdon quirked a brow, you had made sure your brother's medical records were in the system and updated from the day you started at PTMC years ago. “Right,” you sighed, “you have his chart of course you didn’t give him ketamine.”
Yolanda slid in and started to assess your brother. She wanted a full CT before surgery to get a good look at his face but assured you that she would take the best care of him that she could. You kissed your brother's temple and said a quick prayer over him before he was in Dr. Garcia’s hands. You walked out of the room to find the kid Vi had mentioned.
“His boyfriend Jasper is in the family room, he’s not hurt but pretty shaken up,” Dana spoke up.
“God I love that you read my mind,” you blew a kiss to Dana before heading into the family room. He was probably in his late teens, only a couple years older than Mason. His clothes were covered in blood and you recognized the shell shocked look on his face. You knocked lightly before walking in and taking a seat next to him.
“Hi Jasper,” Your voice was soft and kind, you placed your hand over his, “Mason is in surgery, but he’s got the best surgeon we have on staff, he's going to be just fine.”
Jasper started to cry, tears free falling from his face, you thought of the mother you’d spoken to only a couple hours ago. You pulled him into a hug, petting his hair softly. “I’m so, so, sorry!”
“Why?” you asked, pulling him up to look you in the eye.
“If he wasn’t with me then this never would’ve happened…his parents found out so he drove into Pittsburg this morning, we were on our way to come see you.” You took a deep breath and brought the boy back into your shoulder. You could imagine the kind of ballistic fight that Mason had gotten into with your father. The funny thing was that they didn’t care if Mason was gay, it was just the fact that he wasn’t with the boy they had picked out. Your parents had planned your lives out since you were born.
If you followed the plan you would reap the benefits of your family business. If you didn’t, you would be ignored, forgotten. This had happened to you when you decided to come to Pittsburg instead of becoming some royal doctor like your parents had planned.
You thought about your husband. Jack would never be part of their plan, which is why they didn’t know. You and Jack had been together for 6 years and married for 4, but your parents didn’t know. Jack had asked, wanting to meet your father, marry you the proper way: the proper way didn’t matter when he heard how controlling your parents were. Even without COVID regulations your wedding had been small, some of your friends, some of Jack's friends, and the few coworkers the both of you could stand. Mason came after being sworn to secrecy, he walked you down the aisle.
You hugged Jasper tightly, letting him go to call his parents to come get him but you couldn’t imagine having to have your parents come all the way from Washington to come see Mason. To come see you and Jack. You busied yourself as you waited for Mason to get out of surgery, dreading the thought of calling your parents, Mason's phone was broken in the wreck so you would have to call them yourself. You took a moment to sit with Amelia Nichols as she unplugged her daughter, her husband had been arrested, Amelia was alone. You gave her your number, a support group number, and a tight hug.
“You should call them honey, before they file a police report,” Dana brought a cup of your favorite tea by your station while you did some charting, you groaned at the fact that she was right. You had no idea how long he had been gone and with his phone not working they would be going ballistic. You walked into the family room and pulled your phone out from your coat pocket. You slowly typed in the numbers, the dread growing in the pit of your stomach. Don’t pick up. Don’t. Pick. Up. Please.
“Hello?”
“Mommy?” Your voice was shaky, your mother sounded worried; tired.
“Oh my god, bunny? Where is Mason? We haven't heard from him. We got in an argument and he flew out of Seattle last night. We don't know where he is!”
“He’s here…in Pittsburg, in surgery. There was a pileup on the interstate...I know you’re probably in Seattle for work but it’s bad Mommy, you both need to come-” and fix this, died on your tongue. Your mother stayed silent, you hung up, you threw your phone against the opposite wall, curling up on the floor in silent, angry tears. You weren’t sure how long you sat there but Melissa King was the one to find you, she gingerly picked up your cracked phone and sat next to you.
“I know we don’t know each other very well, since we work opposite shifts,” she started, looking at you with honest kindness in her eyes, “but I know you are one of the strongest people here. That means Mason is strong too. We will figure this out, together.” Mel placed her hand on your shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. You wiped the tears from your face and nodded, Vi stood in the door when you got up, Mason was out of surgery.
Hour 20
Mason had definitely seen better days, part of his face and forehead was wrapped from the facial fractures, bruises were blossoming, black and ugly across his ribcage. His left leg had been amputated from his knee down to his foot. You listened intently as Yolanda explained the situation, there was a significant loss of blood and too much soft tissue damage, she’d tried to save his leg but it was too far gone. With a dedicated prosthesis team and a good physical therapist he would be able to get around. You knew he would be fine, with the right prosthetic he could still play sports. If Jack could do everything he did on a prostetic than so could Mason.
“Mason?” you sat at his bed, pushing his curls from his forehead, but he continued to sleep. Garcia said you could take him home once your shift was over…home.
“I clocked you out, and texted Jack since you also broke your phone when you threw it,” Vi rubbed your back, your shoulders slumped. How could this be happening, to your baby brother of all people. “Your mom and dad coming?” You shrugged your shoulders, maybe your mom convinced your dad to come check on his son, maybe he said you could both fuck off. You’d find out soon enough. Vi ended up leaving and Mason woke up soon after. He was still disoriented but you were able to keep him grounded, he tried to ask about your parents but you wouldn’t give him an in. Jack came in around 5:30 to pick up you and Mason, he was still in a considerable amount of pain but Robby was already walking you through home care when Jack came into the room.
“Baby,” Jack pulled you into a tight hug and it took everything in you to not fall apart, Mason was still scared and unsure of his life going forward so you had to stay strong.
“Take us home,” you pleaded, gripping him like a lifeline.
“Yes ma’am.”
-The Abbot Residence
Your home wasn’t very big, but it was yours. Stonewash grey with white trim, a stone path leading to the front door from the sidewalk and a white picket fence. Jack parked his truck inside the two car garage and helped Mason in. Inside it honestly looked like a slightly modernized 90’s home. You and Jack bought it when you got married and flipped it, the two of you had touched every square inch of the house and made it yours. It was tidy but still a home, medical book, notepads and files were stacked up on the coffee table. A perfectly sized kitchen with an island bar stayed spotless unless you cooked.
The walls were a pale but sunny yellow, dark hardwood floors covered every inch of the house aside from the concrete in the garage and the tile in the bathroom. You threw Mason's duffle bag over your shoulder, grabbed his medicine and walked in yourself. Jack had him propped up in bed in the guest bedroom, which Mason had fully decorated to be his room. You sat on the side explaining what everything was as you sectioned his medication in a pill box, he tried to listen intently buy he was tired.
“Do you need anything baby?”
“Water,” his throat was scratchy from being intubated. You made your trip from the kitchen back to his room fast, opening the water and helping him to drink. After making sure he was comfy you set up a mobile call button so he didn’t have to yell for you.
“You comfy bud?” Jack came in, checking his set up one more time, Mason nodded. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sore watching Jack softly ruffle his hair before placing a kiss to the top of his head. Jack never wanted to be an “old dad” but he had such a way with children, even teenagers. His grumpy war vet facade just seemed to melt around them. Mason fell asleep after getting his night medicine, you tucked him in, kissed his cheek and headed to the kitchen to make a whiteboard chart. Mason had medication at 6- administer more at 2 if needed. Keep close observation-
“I hope this doesn’t mess with our guests that are coming,” You sighed deeply as Jack wrapped his arms around your waist, you rested your head on his shoulder.
“It won’t,” He peppered your neck in kisses, softly squeezing your sides to relax you, “promise.”
You basked in the silence and the warmth, your sanctuary. You could feel Jack's heartbeat against you, strong and steady like his arms that wrapped protectively around your waist. You turned into him, your head instinctively finding comfort between his collar bones, he smiled, petting your hair softly.
“Can’t you just stay?” You mumbled into the cotton of his t-shirt, engulfing your senses with his cologne. Jack had never really been a cologne guy, you bought him a bottle your first Christmas dating and he’d been wearing it ever since.
“Don’t make me regret leaving,” he groaned, capturing your lips in a kiss, you pushed up on your toes trying to capture every inch of him. After the shift you’d just had, and everything with mason, you needed all of him. Your hands slid up his shirt, exploring the canvas of his bare torso. Jack was quite muscular, you found a scar on his ribcage and traced it lightly, you didn’t realize he had led you to the bedroom until you knocked back into a crate.
“Jer, have you been sleeping this whole time?” You gazed down at the sleeping dog. Her tail wagged excitedly at the sound of your voice. Mom was home!!
“Yeah we went for a run right before Vi called so she’s pretty beat,” Jack grinned, a boyish light coming to his eye. You wanted to scold him for running in the snow and the dangers of it, but he knew the dangers. You pulled Jack in for a few more kisses before he convinced you to take a shower. “I love you no matter what but you smell like the hospital my love.” He cackled like a hyena as a shoe was thrown in his direction, with another kiss goodbye he headed to work.
You let the hot water roll over your body, washing away the day from your skin. Jack had left a lavender shower bomb by the drain, the smell engulfing your nostrils and breaking the tension that had anchored in your chest. After some much needed time alone, you stepped out from the warm confines of the shower. One of Jack's NAVY shirts (your favorite one because it was long enough to cover your butt) and a pair of shorts were already waiting by your towel. God you loved that man. Jerico scratched at Mason’s door, annoyed that her favorite person was being kept away. You knelt down and gently held her face, whispering that Mason needed soft love. Jerico was a retired search and rescue dog so you knew she understood exactly what you were saying. You slowly cracked the door open, Mason was awake but quiet.
“Hey,” you kept your tone soft as you crawled into bed next to him, “need anything?”
“Mmm, just you. Mom and dad are coming. I'm scared.” You could feel your heart break for Mason, he wasn’t scared of your parents as people but scared of not having their approval. To them; approval was love. You wrapped Mason in your unconditional love, humming lullabies until he fell asleep.
An angry fist rapping against your front door and Jerico’s defensive bark ripped you from sleep, your arm was sore from being wrapped around Mason, you pulled away slowly so as to not wake him before rotating the soreness out. Who would be knocking on your door at 6am?
You groaned, pulling yourself from the comfy bed and the warmth you had in your brother, before trudging across the cold house.
“Can I help you?” You asked, fervently rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The outside cold slipped past your bare legs, causing shivers to ripple through you. Jerico stood between your legs, sniffing at the people standing before you. A low growl slipped past her. Man bad.
“We’re here for Mason,” that cold shiver took on a different feeling, you pulled your hands away to see your mother and father standing in the doorway. Your father wore his usual scowl, unhappy as always, your mother stood beside him. No, she was hiding behind him, a bitter taste grew in your mouth seeing her be cowardese to your father.
“Um. Yeah, he’s asleep but come in.” You stepped to the side, Jerico backing up with you but never leaving her place. You watched as your parents seemed to examine your house with scrutiny. Sure it wasn’t the three story house with lavish decor you’d grown up in but it was yours. Yours and Jacks. You mumbled to your father that you needed to change, watching his eyes drag up and down your frame in disapproval. You knew when the roles reversed you would stand tall for Mason but you cursed to yourself for shrinking to him. You’d broken your work phone but picked up your house phone from beside your bed.
Mom and dad are here, I’m handling it. Might be in a bad mood when you get in :(
You hated sending that text as you changed into warmer clothes but it was better for Jack to be prepared. When you walked out of your room, your parents were still standing awkwardly in the entrance hall, your mother holding a picture from your wedding. You ignored them and walked to the kitchen, the open floor plan allowing you to keep an eye on them.
“Are you hungry? I can make some coffee,” you turned your head in their direction as you pulled fruit and ingredients for breakfast from the fridge.
You are strong, you are loved, you are safe in this home -J
Seeing the note on the fridge almost made you cry, you smiled softly as you got back to preparing breakfast.
“Who is this?” Your mother's tone made you jump slightly.
“My husband.” You answered as plainly as you could, carefully chopping fruit, your shaky hands didn’t help. Your parents eyes grew wide, they were standing at the kitchen island in a moment, your house wasn’t big but it felt like they’d charged at you.
Seeing the reminder of one of the best days of your life made the horror melt at the edges. Your dress wasn’t fancy, a plain white flowy dress. Jack wore a navy suit, your eyes both gleaming as you were showing off your rings to the photographer. You frowned at the way your father white knuckled the picture and plucked it from his grasp.
“His name is Jack. He loves me very much, I would suggest watching your usual comments around him, he’s not a big fan of….bullies.” Looking at the pure devotion on your husband's face the day you got married gave you confidence.
“He’s old enough to be your father, bunny.” your mother quietly remarked.
“You could do better than this cariño, we raised you to do better,” your fathers voice was cold as he gestured to your home. A fire started to burn in your chest and it was angry. How dare your father walk into your life and assume he could have control after 6 years. Six years of regaining your life, six years of being yourself, making your own way. Making your way with Jack Abbot being there every step.
Your parents hadn’t given him an easy task, but he was slow and methodical as he’d broken down your walls, finding a beautiful woman who had been freed. And sure Jack had seen you set back plenty of times, when your mother would come out in you, or when your fathers words would burn your tongue as they escaped your lips. But he never left, he’d been determined to make you his, the only life you’d have was the one where he showered you in the praise and love you deserved. Your eyes were locked on your fathers when Jerico bolted to the guest bedroom, a groan coming from the space.
“I’m going to check on Mason. He needs his medicine.” You left your father at your kitchen island with his mouth agape, your mother following close behind you. When you entered the bedroom she fell at Mason's side crying in his arms.
“Mason I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry. Your father didn’t mean it,” she petted his hair as she spoke, trying to ground herself. “we will figure it out, just come home please baby.”
Tears welled in Mason's eyes but he stayed quiet, looking to you for direction. Your ears pricked at the sound of arguing in the kitchen but you decided this was more important.
Moving to the bed you pulled your mother up from the floor.
“Love is all we want. To be loved for being ourselves, choosing our own path.” You held your mothers hands tightly, you’d tried to have this conversation with her before coming to Pittsburg but she had been so absorbed in her plan she wouldn’t listen. Now, with her son injured as a result she had no choice.
“I want to be a part of the family on my own terms. My plan.” Mason finally spoke, your mother nodded her head furiously as she held him tightly. You left some pills and a water bottle by Mason’s bed before interrogating the arguing in the kitchen.
The tension was palpable. Jack stood at the kitchen island, white knuckling the counter top. Your father sat across from him, arms crossed with a smug look on his face. Oh god, Jack was gonna kill him.
“Jack, you’re home,” You walked swiftly to his side, wrapping an arm around his waist. He looked drained, mentally and emotionally. Your phone had been quietly buzzing on the counter, warning of Jack's incoming state. And instead of his lovely wife he was greeted by her father. Who hated Jack simply for loving her.
“How’s Mason?” He sighed, practically melting into your touch. It was at this moment you’d realized your father didn’t even ask how his son was.
“He’s a tough kid just like I raised him to be,” you answered lightly, carefully watching the anger come back in your fathers eyes. “Yo-yo already sent me a number for a few prosthetics teams, and I emailed the place you got yours. The VA typically doesn't do civillians but he said he owed you a favor, so as long as he’s done growing we can start that process soon.” Jack nodded, keeping his eyes trained on your father.
“Why does he need prosthetics? What are you talking about?”
“Oh. I’d almost forgotten you hadn’t bothered to ask about him,” your words cut deep, the anger finally coming out in you. “Mason had to have part of his leg amputated. The damage from the wreck was too severe.”
You watched as a sea of emotions played on your fathers face, anger, sadness, maybe even a little spite? He took a deep breath before hitting you with the final blow of his trip.
“Then I guess you and your….husband can keep him. I have no use for another child who will amount to nothing.”
Jack's hands were on his throat before either of you could react, sending the bar stool he was sitting on flying. Your brain went fuzzy at the words, that was all the confirmation you needed that your parents would be leaving but Mason would not. Your whole body tingled with the sensation, not realizing Jack was beating your father till Mason was yelling.
“Yeah get his ass J!!”
“Mason!” Your mother shrieked pulling him back into the guest room. He was wobbily considering the half missing limb. You looked to Jack who had certainly laid a few blows to your fathers face. All it took for him to stop was your fingertips grazing his shoulder.
“You will get out of our home, without your son and your wife,” Jack spoke lowly, a growl rumbling in his throat. “And if I ever hear you talk to or about my wife the way you have today, I will make you wish you were mute.” Jack and your father were on their feet, your father screaming incessantly about how Jack would be hearing from his lawyer. “Call your fuckin lawyers I don’t give a damn. But know you just lost everything good thing you have and you don’t even realize it!” Jack slammed the front door and locked it. You wrapped your arms around him, keeping your body flush to his back.
“Thank you.”
“Baby,” Jack turned around so you were looking at him, the anger that had sat in his eyes replaced with soft love. “I will always defend you from assholes who don’t deserve you.”
You hated to admit that seeing him be defensive, going into soldier mode, it lit a different fire in you. You swiftly walked to the guest room and announced that your father was gone and you’d start to print the divorce papers for your mother. She seemed frightened about what your father would do but you weren’t afraid of anything when you knew your husband had your back all the way.
Your breakfast ingredients had been abandoned on the kitchen counter, your mother decided to go pick up breakfast and Mason turned on the TV in his room, needing something to escape the chaos that had just happened.
“We have 30 minutes.” You announced as you followed Jack into your room, locking the door behind you. Jack sat at the foot of the bed, removing his prosthetic, being on it consistenly bothered him. For a second you thought about Mason before pushing it aside.
“Are you caging me in Mrs. Abbot?” Jack asked, amusement plastered on his face.
“All I’m saying is you had a shitty night and had to have a shitty morning, consisting of throwing my father out of our house…I want to make it up to you,”
The running water of the hot shower masked the abhorrent sounds escaping your lips. Lips and teeth and tongue were in a battle for control. Jack had you flush against the shower wall, using both you and the wall to balance himself.
“M’ sorry about my dad,” you managed through kisses. Jack pulled away, holding your face as his hazel eyes bore into you. God, why did he have to be so captivating?
“We’re not doing that. I have to admit your parents were the guests that were coming,” he sighed, the creases in his forehead deepening, “I wanted to understand. See it for myself, I should’ve never brought them into our home.”
He waited for you to yell, to leave the shower and berate him, so your deep kisses came as a surprise. Part of you wanted to scream and yell, but the other part of you just couldn’t be mad that he wanted to love you that much more.
“I love you.”
Jack picked you up and you wrapped your legs around him tightly. Your His muscles rippled beneath your legs as you held each other like a lifeline. He faltered slightly, gripping you with one hand and pushing the other against the wall. He peppered kisses from your collar bone down to the dip in your breasts, singing praises to you as he did. Jack was going to take his time. He was tired, so fucking tired, but you gave him life. He could sleep the day away with you in his arms, but right now, you both needed this. Your hands roamed his back, leaving nail marks in their wake, he was all yours and you were never afraid to claim him. You needed more.
“Jack..” you whined. His eyes shot up from your breasts, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. He placed you on a small shelf that stuck out about waist level. ‘Work smarter not harder’ he’d said as you’d watched him install it years ago. ‘Getting old, don’t wanna have to hold you up the whole time.’ You knew he also used it as a support for his leg, but the thought of him wanting to fuck you that much in the shower made it increasingly better.
You watched as he lowered himself to your sweet spot, small bated breaths escaped your lips. Your hands flew into his silver curls. He started agonizingly slow, feeling every inch of you he could take in his mouth, you yelped as you bucked into his face, his nose hitting your sweet spot. The laugh that drummed against you helped absolutely nothing, only taking you higher.
Your thoughts were hazy but you knew one thing, you would never be good enough for him. You often wondered why he caved, why he let you of all people in. But you would make sure to get on your knees and thank god for him every single day. “So sweet, so loving, so perfect,” he came back up, capturing you in another kiss. “And all mine. No one else gets you but me,” that boyish grin made an appearance again, sending you reeling as you all but jumped back onto him. You took a moment to really look at him, freckled skin that was often tense now relaxed as he stood before you. He was covered in scars, some white and almost faded, some newer- still red with anger. You traced a scar on his chest, it sat perfectly between his pecs. You remembered that day, he’d been attacked by a vet that came in. He didn’t mean to hurt Jack, he’d been triggered into an episode and attacked on instinct. You almost cried patching him up, the first realization you could lose him, but he reminded you that he was tough. And he would always come home to you.
You slipped off of your perch and switched places with Jack so he could lean on it as you began placing soft, gentle kisses on all his scars. “You're so brave, and strong,” you spoke lowly, sinking to your knees as you kissed the insides of his legs. Jack only hummed, his eyes had fluttered closed as he had taken part of your hair in his hands. “You deserve everything.” You said as you took his length in your hands, stroking it slowly. Jack leaned back, white knuckling the tile to ground himself.
“Fuck me.” He grunted through gritt teeth.
“I’m trying,” that response got a laugh, his eyes opened as he smiled down at you. You rose moved him again so you could perch yourself on the seat, taking his length with you. Sex with Jack was always like the very first time, it never got old. You lined him up to take you, your eyes were locked in each other, his breath as shallow as he watched you. His gaze was calculated, the gears turning slowly as he panted. You scooched to the edge, trying to stay as close to him as possible.
“Take me.”
“Y-yes ma’am,” Jack grabbed the fat of your hips to hold you in place before letting himself in. You didn’t think you would ever adjust to how big he was, the heat in your stomach was building, ready to tip over. Jack's head fell into your shoulder as he found his pace, going faster than he had with his tongue but not fast enough to hurt you. Your bodies had become one as the hot water started to run cold, but you didn’t care. Jack panted in your ear, you pressed deep hungry kisses into his freckled shoulder.
“Gonna,”
“Uh huh me too,”
Jack reached a hand from the small of your back and used his fingers to tease you even more, you bit into his shoulder trying to suppress the moan that escaped your throat. Your hands were tangled in his hair, at the top and at the nape of his neck. You pulled his hair just enough to get a reaction, he nipped at your neck. With a few bucks of your hips, you were spent, Jack held your hips incredibly still. He wanted to make sure you could feel all of him as your walls tightened one last time. Jack cleaned you off before turning the shower off, wrapping the two of you in a towel and staggering to bed.
“I’m home,” your mother called as she opened the door. The smell of French toast making your stomach growl.
“Nice timing Doctor Abbot, truly impeccable,” Jack teased, pressing a kiss into your neck. You giggled and kissed him back.
“Coming mom!” You hollered back as you threw on whatever warm clothes you could find. “Sleep my love, I’ll be back later,” you laid Jack down in the bed, having to fight him off of you as his fingers fiddled with the band of your sweatpants, your laughter echoed through the room and straight to his heart.
“Love you,”
“Love you too,”
Sure your life hadn’t been perfect, your family was in for a ride, but you were together. And more importantly you had Jack Abbot, who would do anything to protect and keep you. After all, he took till death do us part to the very depths of his soul. He never broke his promises.
Edit: I FUCKING KNEW HE WAS GONNA HAVE A PROSTHETIC- felt deeply inclined to adjust after seeing that.
taglist: @ebodebo @sceletaflores @yuenity @kchronicallyonline
#fanfiction#the pitt#THE PITT THURSDAY#~abi writes#Jack Abbot#jack abbot x reader#NEED HIM CARNALLY#why were bad dads the theme of this fic?#contrary to what you may think I love my dad#Dr Jack Abbot being a sexy bitch#I NEED HIM#LIKE SO BAD!!!#writing#fanfic#Jack putting a shelf in the shower is so iconic#I love that old man#He would 100% have a retired search and rescue dog#Jerico is his baby girl#anywhore I need to stop rambling#Cant wait to see my man#MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN#He'll probably tell Robby to do a flip and the only reason he doesn't jump is because hes crying laughing too hard#Jack started the hospitals fellowship in cynicsim
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I recently made a poll to decide between two drawing ideas and Emperor/Empress Bingqiu won by a large margin! I have a very specific vision in my head about what Empress shizun should look like and although these come close I'm not sure they are quite it.... Somebody on here said it was difficult to come with a design for this and I wholeheartedly agree it's so tough 😩
#in my head fic (which I am writing super slowly but it might never see the light of day) I have a very specific robe idea#an almost black green dress with deep green herons in flihht and more vibrant green shimers sown to look like bamjoo it is very regal#very vavavoom#unfortunately I don't think I have the drawing skills yet to draw it to my taste#I just know binghe would lavish him in beautiful clothes that he would wear from time to time and I want that fashion bad bitch shizun#svsss#bingqiu
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