wilnutsstuff

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Much to think about.

Shawn Hatosy for Deadline

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dkfjalsdkjfls

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Oooo I hope we see more of him

Gino Vento

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LET THEM KISS

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I fully believe that Abbot looking and smiling at me like that would fix all my problems

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Love my toxic attending boyfriends they should kiss me and also each other

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This is correct, I heartily but respectfully disagree with Abbot/Mohan folks!

At this point I would be thoroughly surprised if Abbot and Walsh are not together or at least exes because those scenes were straight from an AO3 enemies to lovers fic

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No because the last 2 hours at work I've done nothing but listen to Paramore and think about smoochin these fellas.

I’m losing my MIND

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Shawn Hatosy as Dr. Jack Abbott The Pitt, 7:00 P.M

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Jack Abbot whispering praise into Santos’ ear did a number on me

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Can't stop thinking about this minor character and of course @bullet-prooflove just gets it. Bless you.

Snapband: Jack Abbott x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gabsgabsvaz @yousigned-upforthis @flyinglama @cosmic-psychickitty

Companion piece to:

The Asshole King - Jack discovers you have an unusual technique for dealing with patients.

Masochist - You and Jack have an indepth understanding of one another.

Seven Shades of Fucked Up (NSFW) - You know exactly how to get Jack off.

Part of the Job - Violence has always been part of the job, but this time it hits a little too close to home for Jack.

Pittfest - Jack's day turns into a nightmare when he recieves a notification from the hospital regarding a mass casuality event.

In the five minutes before the initial wave Jack calls you seventeen times. He leaves two messages.

“I’m at the hospital. Please call me back.” and “I love you.”

Then he gets to work.

Compartmentalisation, it’s always been his thing but that doesn’t stop him seeking you out every time he steps into The Pitt after clearing a patient for the surgery or the morgue.

“What was she wearing?” Dana asks him as she handles the tablet for the patient BOLO. He can see your work photo has already been uploaded but the rest, it’s blank.  

“I don’t know.” He says running his fingers through those unruly curls as he tries to think back to earlier this afternoon. He’d fallen back asleep after you’d headed into the bathroom, didn’t see you get dressed. “I just don’t…”

That’s when the body rolls past, blood soaking through the white sheet that covers it, your hair tumbling out from underneath it. Right height, right build and a black and white snap band looped around the wrist. He pulls back the sheet to look at the face and finds himself staring into the exit wound of a high calibre weapon. There’s nothing left, not even the scar underneath your hairline from where you cracked your head climbing a tree as a kid. You’ve been completely obliterated.

His world condenses after that. Every single emotion he has shuts down because his heart, it’s been annihilated, there’s not a single shred of him left. His training takes over as he steps away, back into the room where four other people’s lives depend on him.

The clock resets and he’s back in the fray.

Drill, line, rinse, repeat.

It’s the only thing that makes sense.

The moment he stops he’s going to find himself back on that roof and this time he has no reason not to jump.

It’s hour three that his concentration broken by the sound of your voice. It’s fatigue, he thinks, his mind playing tricks on him but there you are being rolled in on a gurney, your thighs straddling another man’s hips, your hand plunged deep into his chest.

“It’s not what it looks like.” You tell him, your gaze meeting his and suddenly it feels like he can breathe again.

“It looks like you’re pinching an artery so this guy doesn’t bleed to death.” He tells you, snapping back into action. He flashes the penlight from his right pocket into the depths of the wound.

“OK, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” You say as he prods at the flesh surrounding your wrist, gauging the space he has to work with.  

“Alright honey.” He murmurs as he picks up a clamp from the metal tray beside him. “Stay still and we’ll have you hands free in a minute.”

He leans in close, his grizzled cheek brushing against yours as you both stare down into the chest cavity. The scent of daffodils floods his senses, mixed with the acrid taint of cordite. You’d been close when that gun was fired, real fucking close.

“You hurt?” He murmurs as he guides the clamp into the hollow of your palm, using the curvature of your fingers as a road map to the exact placement of the perforation.

“No.” You say your breath ghosting in his ear. “No injuries, just a lot of fucked up shit I’m gonna be seeing every time I close my eyes.”

The clamp bites down on the artery, stemming the flow and Jack’s palm comes to rest on your wrist as the clamp protrudes from the open wound. “I’m going to pull your hand out alright? Slow, so we don’t dislodge the clamp.”

��Yes.” You murmur and the two of you work together to remove your hand from the patient’s chest.  

You flex your fingers when they’re free and they shine with viscera under the fluorescent lights as you rotate your wrist. Jesse, the trauma nurse hands you an antiseptic wipe to clean them before Jack’s hands come to rest on your arms, helping you down off the gurney and into his proximity.

“You’re ok.” He whispers, squeezing your shoulders lightly to reassure himself you’re really there.

“Yea, I am.” You tell him as his forehead comes to rest upon on yours. “Now do me a favour and put me to work.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

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The bleach job 🥰🥰🥰

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Not the most exciting post but The Last of Us is filming right by my apartment. I heard Pedro was back in Vancouver for a time but I didn't see. I think they were striking the set to be fair.

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A lil sighting at the Hotel Cocaine premier with Randy Gonzalez.

📷@randy_g insta

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He's still my number 1 blorbo. Ugh, I can fix him. 😭