#(or well see you next week with an off-week post and Then then the week after. you get me)

[killmeleatherface]

I’m Here Part 3

Jack Abbot x F! Attending (OC)

This is a third part to my ongoing series.

Here’s the last part! :)

AN: soooorry guys. I’ve been busy and I couldn’t post until now. Next part will have the gala :)

—

Four weeks. That’s how long you’d been back in the Pitt. Four weeks of twelve or more hour shifts, sleeping in the on call room, more cups of coffee than you count and more avoidances than you cared to count. Yes, you’d successfully managed to avoid having a conversation with Jack Abbot the entire time you’d been unceremoniously back in his domain. You’d of course been unable to avoid being in the same trauma rooms with him, but he never spoke to you and you sure as hell weren’t going to be the first one to talk.

At the end of a particularly grueling day, with your back aching and your feet feeling like two prices of brick attached to you, all you could think of was ordering Chinese take out and watching your favorite Netflix show. Just as you were finishing one of your last charts, a usually happy Michael Robinavitch sidled up next to you; back against the counter of the nurses station with his arms next to him.

“You going tonight?” He asks.

“Going where?” You ask, faking curiosity. He’s never done anything wrong or hurtful to you, so he does not deserve a sour mood from you.

“To the gala. It’s tonight.” He widens his eyes, saying it as if it’s not a foreign language to you at this point. “What gala, Robby? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Kid, the annual medical gala. The Robertson Medical Gala for the foundation?. All attending are required to attend.” He offers.

Oh yeah, that gala. You skimmed an email from Gloria about it last week. You thought you’d be able to get out of it by this point so you never placed it in a solid part of your mind.

“Oh. Yeah, that one. Yeah.” You rubs your eyes, immediately stressing about having to go home and get ready AND put on heels. “I guess I will be there. And you will be too. Guess I won’t be miserable all by myself.” You offer, looking at your old friend.

“I, actually for once, have a date. So unfortunately you will be alone. Sorry kid.” He backs.

Robby knocks on the nurses desk with his knuckles and says, “Unless…” He looks away.

You pause, closing your last charts and putting it over the nurses desk and away, waiting for Robby to continue.

“What dude? Spit it out.” You turn to face him.

“No I shouldn’t. It’s none of my business. We’re at work.” He’s holding something back.

“Okay, weirdo. I’m gonna go then. I’ll see you tonight?” You pull your phone out and start walking away.

“He never got married.” Robby says after you.

You pause mid step, not turning around.

“Jack. He, uh, he didn’t go through with it. He told Rachel the day before the wedding was supposed to happen.”

You turn around, looking him directly in the eyes, trying to search for any glint of joking or ill fated humor.

“He never told me what happened, but I gathered from bits and pieces and figured it out.” He says, coming off the front desk and standing upright.

“I didn’t know.” You put your hands on your hips.

“Why didn’t he ever call me?” You ask his best friend.

He throws his hands up in silent exasperation, “You know him. He’s not one for calling to talk about something hard like…anything, but especially, well, you.” He offers.

“What do you expect me to do, Robby? We haven’t spoken one word to each other. And now you expect me to hear that he didn’t marry Rachel and go beg for him to finally be mine? No. I won’t. I’m beyond that.” You put your hands in front of you in a done motion.

“No, I’m not expecting you to do anything. He’s not either.” He puts his hands in his pocket.

“I just thought you should know. He’s hurt too.” He says, as a final word. You don’t want to hear this.

You nod and turn on your heels, issuing him a goodbye with your hand flicking off your head.

Ugh, screw today.

—

Instead of your favorite lo mein and a beer in your hands, you’re currently finagling a cosmetics brush around your face. A dab here, a touch here, some powder. The usual. By the end of the hour your face is bronzed and tight lined and blushed to perfection. You use the mirror hanging on the back of your door to observe your handiwork. While you weren’t a novice with hair and makeup by any means, it had been literal years since you’d spent time every morning getting ready. You quite enjoyed it, you felt put together and had a slight air of confidence surrounding you.

After you put on the silk black dress that hit just below your ankles, you sit down to strap your heels to your feet. As you’re finishing the last hook, something in the corner of your room catches your eye.

A hoodie. Jack’s hoodie. You slowly stand up, your dress falling down your thighs, calves, ankles, all the way down to just below your feet. You walk steps slowly to the corner where the piece of clothing is seated, on top of an open box you’re sure you’d absentmindedly rummaged through without fully unpacking. Once your fingers touch the fabric it’s like a jolt of electricity is fired through you. You thought you’d gotten rid of it in all the moving, but in the back of your mind you’re also sure you’d known it’s always been there. A silent reminder of the original owner.

The night you’d ended up with the infamous jacket about was about four years ago. You were on the rooftop after a double shift, just wanting to catch the sunrise, and be reminded that there’s still beauty and normalcy in life. You just needed to feel something good. Your shifts had been filled with case after case of damage, destruction, and death. And of course you were understaffed. A packed waiting room with all seats filled and even more standing against any open space they could fine. The ER was filled with gurneys, chairs, IV stands, you were almost running out of room.

When there was finally a much needed lull and your shift was about to end you’d managed to sneak away. You’d been on the roof for about ten minutes, eyes glazed to focus on the city and sky before you when a voice interrupted your break.

“Hell of a shift. You did good.” Jack spoke to your back.

You don’t say anything and keep looking ahead of you.

You can hear the rocks crunching under his feet until he’s right beside you.

“Really, kid. I know it’s second nature at this point with you, but don’t be so hard on yourself. You made the right decisions, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

“I just…this doesn’t get any bit easier does it?” You inquire.

“Nope.” He says with a pop of his mouth.

Back to silence.

“How long you been up here? It’s really cold. You need a coat.” Jack says, eyeing you.

“No really I’m good, don’t worry about me.” You say, like you want to be tortured. Some ritual you’re unknowingly performing up here to get insight on anything to make you feel better about all the death.

Jack doesn’t say anything, just starts shrugging off his hoodie.

“No Abbot, I’m good. You need it, keep it.” You try to convince him.

“Nonsense.” He says putting the jacket over your shoulders and helping you sling your arms through. It smells like him. His warmth, his cologne. His familiarity.

—

You let yourself put the jacket up to your face, your common sense faltering due to Robby’s earlier confession still on your mind. You instantly transform back to three years ago, a young fellow filled with love and adoration in your eyes for Jack Abbot. How fucked up is it that your spent most of your resident and fellowship years hopelessly in love with someone who’s engaged? But then you get mad.

It is fucked up. It’s not like Jack outright lead you on, you knew he had a fiance, but sometimes Jack didn’t act like he had a fiancé. When he spend an hour or three after shift talking to you on the roof, outside on a bench, in the park across the street, in the diner a few blocks away. He became your person. And you became his, there was no doubt about that. Neither of you ever crossed a line that Gloria or Rachel would question, but you leaned. Very far.

“She wants to get married.” Jack mumbled, looking forward, not daring to have this conversation with you and look in your eyes.

You didn’t reply.

“She’s a good girl. It’s been long enough. I guess I kind of owe it to her.” Jack said.

“That’s a great reason to marry someone.” You say.

He turned back to face you, finally.

“I can think of great reasons to marry someone, if I really had to.” Jack said.

“Oh?” You managed.

“Yeah. Someone’s who’s smart, cares about others, makes me laugh really hard, understands this job. And doesn’t just say they understand, but they actually do understand. They live it.” Jack says, keeping eye contact and walking towards you.

What?

Where is this coming from?

“Those are great reasons to marry Rachel.” You manage.

He stops, and looks off to the side. “Yeah, Rachel. That’s who I want, right.”

__

He proposed two weeks later, in the weeks between ending your residency and starting your fellowship. Rachel happily accepted and immediately started planning her dream wedding.

It was weird for you and Jack for a while after that. Like he felt he actually had to act serious about Rachel now. He couldn’t be nonchalant about the girl because he put a ring on her finger.

He was always wishy washy about her. Not that you ever cared to ask, but you heard him talk or listened to him make quips to other people. No one wanted to talk about their personal life openly at work, especially an already usually quiet Jack. Either way, you and everyone else were under the assumption that Jack had a mostly casual girl. Until the ring popped up.

Ugh, you hated Robby. Well not really hated Robby, but we’re so annoyed that you let him get on about Jack and now had this new information swirling around your brain. Why didn’t Jack call you? He’s the one that confessed his love to you. You kissed that night. No, you didn’t confess your love back, but he knew. He was way too smart of a man and knew you too well to not know how hopelessly devoted and in love with him. You just felt you couldn’t say it because he had an actual girl/friend/fiance. You never asked Jack why he was with Rachel, when he acted as if it was almost annoying to have to go home to her. He mumbled something about owing her and that was it. You never prodded, he wouldn’t tell you more anyways.

Well, you couldn’t think about Jack anymore. You’d spent almost the last decade doing so. And you were still confused.

[wayiiseetheworld]

Can't Sleep

Summary: When Sophie can't sleep, she asks Robby for an orgasm. Robby gives it to her.

Warnings: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Night Shift Charge NurseOC Sophie, Oral Sex, Robby is a Giver, Age Gap Relationship, Established relationship by a few months

Word Count: 1,190

Author Note:. I am obsessed with Abbot, Robby, and The Pitt. Slowly going to post my stories from A03 on here. Rewatching ER and Animal Kingdom because of this show. Thank you so much for reading! || Not my gif.

Masterlist | A03 Link

She could feel his breath warm against her neck, the subtle rise and fall of his chest blending with her own. His body was pressed close to hers, every muscle tense yet gentle, while his arm wrapped securely around her stomach, holding her steady. She could see the alarm clock that was on the nightstand to be a little after midnight.

She was granted two weeks off following her attack in the ER, a much-needed break to recover both physically and mentally. It had been a few days since the incident, and Sophie was slowly adjusting to a new routine; trying to get used to sleeping during hours she would normally be awake. But here she was, awake with an asleep Robby attached to her and her mind racing.

She loses track of time, the hours blending together in the quiet stillness of the master bedroom. Just as she begins to drift into a light sleep, she hears his voice softly whispering near her ear. “Can’t sleep?” he asks gently, his breath warm against her skin.

“I feel a little guilty,” Sophie murmurs softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Like I should be working or doing something productive.” She pauses for a moment, then adds with a small smile, “I’ve always been a bit of a night owl, you know?” She has been working nights for years. First as a bartender to put herself through school then a nurse who worked her way up to a charge nurse. 

Robby chuckles softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “Workaholic,” he teases gently. “But these next few weeks when you have off, rest. You deserve to rest, to heal. I’ll pick you up some melatonin tomorrow, maybe that can help you sleep tomorrow.” Robby says. “Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?”

Sophie’s lips twitched into a half-smile, a hint of mischief glinting in her eyes. “You could give me an orgasm?” she suggested, her voice playful.

Robby let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. She loved hearing the sound come from his lips. “Well, that’s one way to solve the problem,” he teased. “Of course, Soph. Anything for you.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face before trailing down her cheek. The touch was soft  and it made her breath catch. Robby touch did things to her that she couldn’t explain. Slowly, he shifted closer, his warmth enveloping her as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It was slow and sweet until a small whisper left Sophie’s lips, “More? More, please?”

“Lie back,” he murmured against her mouth, his hand guiding her shoulders until she was flat on the bed. Sophie obeyed, watching him from the moonlight that came through the window. She felt her pulse quickening as he moved over her, his body hovering just above hers. His hands slid down her arms, his touch deliberate and unhurried, as if he wanted to savor every moment. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Sophie says. “I want you.”

A grin on his face. He reached for the hem of the oversized shirt she was wearing, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of her stomach as he lifted it up and over her head. The cool air kissed her bare skin, and she shivered, her nipples hardening in response. His gaze lingering on the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the way her body seemed to glow in the moonlight. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck, and she gasped, her hands gripping the sheets. His mouth trailed lower, leaving a path of fire as he kissed his way down her collarbone, his tongue flicking over her pulse point.

Sophie’s breath hitched as his hands moved to the band of her thong, his fingers hooking into the fabric and sliding them down her legs. She lifted her hips to help him, her body already aching with need. When she was completely bare, Robby paused, his eyes drinking her in with a hunger that made her stomach flutter.

“You’re perfect. So lucky, all mine.” he said, his voice low and husky. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her inner thigh, and she moaned softly, her legs parting instinctively. His breath was warm against her skin, and she could feel the heat of his mouth as he kissed his way up her thigh, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through her.

When his tongue finally flicked against her clit, she cried out, her back arching off the bed. Robby chuckled, a whisper coming to his lips. Sophie whimpered, her hands tangling in his hair. He didn’t tease her for long, his tongue swirling around her clit in slow, deliberate circles that had her gasping for air.

“Robby,” she moaned, her hips rocking against his mouth as he worked her with a skill that left her trembling. His hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her, his tongue dipping inside her before returning to her clit with relentless precision. Sophie’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body tightening as the pleasure built inside her. She could feel it coiling in her stomach. “I’m close,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Robby didn’t respond with words, but his movements became more urgent, his tongue flicking faster against her clit as he slid two fingers inside her. Sophie cried out, her body convulsing as the orgasm ripped through her, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her until she was left breathless and trembling.

When she finally came down from the high, Robby was there, his arms wrapping around her as he pulled her close. “Better?” he asked, his voice soft and teasing.

Sophie nodded, her body still humming with the aftershocks. “Much better,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled against him. She breathed him in. But as she lay there, her mind began to wander, and she wanted to ask for me. “Robby,” she whispered, trying to hide the yawn that escaped her lips moments before, her voice barely audible. Her lips were almost pressed against his skin, and she knew that he could hear her. “I wanna take care of you…”

“Later. I see your eyes. Give in…” He whispers, pressing his lips to her head. “Give to the darkness, to the sleep. Okay, Sophie?”

“...you sure?”

Robby whispers. “Yes, ma’am. You sleep. You need to sleep. We have the whole day together, okay? Now, rest. I love you.”

She moves her head, allowing it to rest in his chest, and his eyes close as he gently cradles her. He stays perfectly still, listening closely to her breathing, making sure her eyelids are fluttering shut and that she’s truly asleep. Only when he's certain that Sophie is in a deep, peaceful sleep does Robby finally relax his grip and let his eyes drift closed, holding onto her even as he keeps his focus on her peaceful face.

[franeridart]

The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 93

Ep 00 || < Prev || Next >

Read ahead on Patreon || Catch up on Webtoon || support me on ko-fi~✨

[dimension-20-every-introduction]

Everyone Introduced in Dimension 20's Fantasy High: Junior Year episode 17

[isame-allen]

Happy new year y’alls :D

It’s the year of the snake so enjoy snake ink!

[moon9931]

im taking a break

tired and sad

explanation in the tags if you give a fuck

UPDATE: feelin a lil better but still unmotivated to do art

maybe in artfight...

[sydney-carton-of-sour-milk]

The Many Illustrators of A Tale of Two Cities 16: Richard M. Powers

...& I've saved the spookiest of this month for last...

Richard M. Powers was an illustrator best known for his many, many illustrations for the covers of science fiction novels.

For this last week of the spooky subseries, we look at his work on this 1962 edition of A Tale of Two Cities.

(As a brief note, some of the images have a blur in the edges of the pages - this is because the book was huge and barely fit on my scanner.)

"The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the eddying mist, and came to the side of the mail, where the passenger stood."

"'Now your dinner is done,' Carton presently said, 'why don't you call a health, Mr. Darnay; why don't you give your toast?'"

"He threw out a gold coin for the valet to pick up, and all the heads craned forward that all the eyes might look down at it as it fell. The tall man called out again with a most unearthly cry, 'Dead!'"

"It lay back on the pillow of Monsieur the Marquis. It was like a fine mask, suddenly startled, made angry, and petrified.'"

"He had a strong idea that the coffin he had seen was running after him; and pictured as hopping on behind him, bolt upright, upon its narrow end."

"'I make a circuit by the prison, on my way to my work. There I see him, high up, behind the bars of a lofty iron cage, bloody and dusty as last night.'"

"The Château was left to itself to flame and burn."

"'We have borne this a long time,' said Madame Defarge, turning her eyes again upon Lucie. 'Judge you! Is it likely that the trouble of one wife and mother would be much to us now?'"

"'Her eyes were dilated and wild, and she constantly uttered piercing shrieks, and repeated the words, "My husband, my father, and my brother!" and then counted up to twelve, and said, "Hush!"'"

"The two stand in the fast-thinning throng of victims, but they speak as if they were alone. Eye to eye, voice to voice, hand to hand, heart to heart, these two children of the Universal Mother,"

And so we close out October. I've been so looking forward to sharing all three of these sets here this month - I hope you've enjoyed as much as I have!

& the standard endnote for all posts in this series:

This post is intended to act as the start of a forum on the given illustrator, so if anyone has anything to add - requests to see certain drawings in higher definition (since Tumblr compresses images), corrections to factual errors, sources for better-quality versions of the illustrations, further reading, fun facts, any questions, or just general commentary - simply do so on this post, be it in a comment/tags or the replies!💫

[sskk-manifesto]

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[bi-lyfe-is-tired]

The issue with working in a hospital is when I then need to access healthcare, I get fed up with the lack of urgency and long waiting lists that come with routine gp services

[deus-ex-mona]

yurusanta: the ✨gift✨ that keeps on ✨giving✨

[pollenallergie]

as someone who knows very little about astrology, Billy Knight seems like a Pisces.

[weenieliker]

🦐...

[orcelito]

Planning out my outfit for my concert shit. I think I've got good pants for it, maybe got shoes for it. Gonna look for a blouse tomorrow + possibly some new shoes. Bc the maybe-shoes are those shoes I got for the suit that I HATE. They gave me such terrible blisters. And I think the pants I have would look better with some kind of heel. But if I don't find anything good I can just use those flats. And for the blouse, it's gotta be black and long sleeve and also have enough flexibility to not restrict my playing. Flexible Clothes. All the better to play a funky little tune in.

On top of that tho I've got several assignments I gotta do this week. Gotta make a wireframe prototype for my web app for web programming class. Tonight, really. Bc the official thing is due Sunday but I gotta get it reviewed by classmate(s) (and also review someone else's, too), so better to have that done sooner rather than later. There's also a lab for my C programming class due on Friday, which I need to have done before the end of lab so I can get it checked off. Gonna try to get most of it done tomorrow night, if not all of it, so that I can just go into lab and get it checked off and then LEAVE. Bc if I stay the full lab I will have less than an hour b4 I gotta be at the venue for sound check. And I really would prefer to have more time before that. Tbh the lab probably won't take TOO much work, since it's just using recursion to make a lil maze solver thing. Not too many lines of code, since the recursion does a lot of that. The tricky part is actually figuring out the logic for it properly. But I took good notes on it when my professor talked about it in class so MAYBE I didn't attend the last 2 labs and MAYBE I haven't even started the thing. But it's ok. Fuck it we ball. And ON TOP OF THAT... the assignments, the orchestra prep, etc... I also wanna clean my apartment some, probably on Friday morning, bc nonzero chance of visitors after the concert. Not for long if they do come in. But Still.... #Embarrassed. It's not as bad as it was b4 bc thankfully I did manage to do my dishes. But there's still some things I should get cleaned up.

AND THEN...!!!!!!!!!!

Well I mentioned the prototype thing. I gotta review someone else's prototype, and I also need to update my own prototype depending on what people say about mine. Tbh I'm kinda planning on doing a lower-effort version to start with (instead of trying to make it perfect from the start) so that it'll hopefully be easier to adjust the prototype to whatever the advice is & make it seem like an actual improvement. There's also a presentation over this thing, which thankfully I'm presenting on... Wednesday, I think? But I gotta have the slides submitted I Think Sunday night (when the prototype itself is due). So I gotta prep the presentation alongside prepping the prototype. AND I have a lab for this same class due on Sunday too, so I'm a busy bee!!

And ON TOP OF ALL THAT, I have a midterm exam in-class on Wednesday for my C programming class (same day as the web programming presentation, ugh 🙄), a presentation for my quality engineering in IT class on Thursday (over ISO 9001 quality standard), AND a paper for that presentation's content due on..Friday, I think? It's a group presentation/paper, same group I worked with last time, which Thankfully they can pull their own weight. It's just more to do lol.

God. I'm being worked to the bone, actually. Feels like everything is happening all at once. But then I remember that it's midterms time and I have spring break the week after next. And I'm like. OK, that makes sense.

Just gotta survive the next week and a half... lol...

[seddair]

.

[queenboimler]

Embodied Elle Woods too much and now I'm a few months from graduating law school and am about to make my first Court appearance and argue in front of a Judge as a Certified Legal Intern to get my client their money 🫡

[seat-safety-switch]

One of humanity's greatest contributions to the art of creating chaos is the humble U-Haul rental van. All over this great country, people who have never driven anything larger than a minivan are now asked to operate a full-ton vehicle that's about as aerodynamic as an enormous cube on skinny tires is.

This wouldn't be a big problem, except U-Hauls, to a vehicle, are barely maintained. Here's why. When you are fleeing the depressing post-industrial city of your birth to move to a new, shiny town in order to get a job in theatre, you don't bring the U-Haul back to that cesspool. You just drop it off in the New Shiny Town U-Haul lot, and it stays there for awhile. The ownership of that U-Haul truck is sort of ambiguous, and so too is the responsibility for its maintenance.

Maybe it didn't belong to Trauma Town U-Haul, either, and nobody feels much like doing an oil change on it if it only benefits some asshole in another state that they've never met. After all, that truck could very well never make it back to its hometown before it is retired by way of a haggard father of two putting it into the ditch at 4am. They certainly aren't going to do something like replacing ball joints, or fixing that worn steering coupler, or replacing the cracked tires when the guy before you stole them for his Super Duty.

Learning how to drive an enormous, poorly-handling, badly-maintained vehicle in unfamiliar areas wouldn't be so bad if you weren't also stressed out at the time. Moving is hard, even when things are going great. Trying not to run over a Geo Metro when you're on your fourth run, haven't had a meal with vegetables in it since last week, and have exactly fifteen minutes to clear out before the landlord sets your coffee table on fire is significantly harder.

The next time you see someone in a U-Haul van, give them a bit of extra room. Let them know that you've got their back, and we're all aligned against the evil forces of capitalism that made this interaction as hellish as it needed to be. Maybe stay a little further back than that, in case they decide to pop a u-turn in the middle of the highway and end up firing an entire Ikea kitchen set through your windshield.