#and i feel that encapsulates him perfectly

[silens-oro]

But I'll Always Remember (pre-Well Enough Alone Companion Piece)

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Prologue Cut the Loss (companion piece) Part I Part II Chicken Hawk (companion piece) Part III Part IV Trespassing (companion piece) Part V Part VI Slowly We Unfurl (companion piece) Hold on to the Thread (companion pieces)

Masterlist Pope Cody Playlist

General Synopsis: Hawk reminisces on a good memory of Julia and six year old J. Word Count: 1.6k Content Warning: addiction AN: @livefromnormandysr2 sent me the wonderful idea of a pre-wea companion piece of Hawk's dynamic with Julia and J when he was younger and this is what I immediately ran with. I hope you like it! The title credit goes to Timbre Inaudible by The Huntress and Holder of Hands. The song is absolutely beautiful (as are all of their songs), but it perfectly encapsulates loss and the grief that sits with you long after someone is gone. If you do anything today, please go give it a listen. please comment & reblog :)

Hawk yawned, rubbing her eyes, as she padded out of the bedroom. The sun was just starting to rise, and it was earlier than Hawk usually got up, but once she opened her eyes on that particular morning, she couldn’t go back to sleep -try as hard as she might. 

Pope was already out of bed by the time she woke up, which wasn’t surprising, and she didn’t hear Lena up quite yet so she got up to start on a quick breakfast while the house was still quiet. Hawk stopped three steps out into the hall when she saw Pope standing at the end of it, looking at the pictures that hung on the walls. His brows were down-turned and his eyes held a sadness to them as he stared at a picture of Julia and J that was hung up in a 5"x7" frame that was definitely decorated by a kid -J, Pope surmised, at his eye level. 

Pope twitched, then sighed lightly when he felt Hawk’s arms wrap around his waist, her hands sneaking under the front of his t-shirt to rest on his stomach just above his jeans. The more comfortable Pope got with their relationship, the more Hawk knew he craved skin to skin contact with her -mostly in an intimate, non-sexual way. It was rare that he ever initiated it other than holding her hand or wrapping his arm around her here and there -especially in a public setting or around other people, but Hawk knew he wanted it. It was unspoken but completely understood between them and she was more than happy to take the leap for him. 

“That was J’s first day of kindergarten.” Hawk informed Pope as she placed her chin on his left shoulder, kissing his neck sweetly. J’s gap-toothed smile was so big as he beamed up to the camera. He held Julia’s hand in both of his tiny palms and Julia smiled down at her son, though it never fully reached her tired eyes. “He looked a lot like you did as a kid.” Pope grunted softly in acknowledgment, his hands coming to rest on the backs of Hawk’s as she held him. Pope saw the uncanny resemblance, and it shook something within him. 

“Julia was fresh out of rehab and was so excited to be there for him on his first day of school, and J was elated that she was joining us in doing something, especially when it involved school. I remember him yapping about going to school for that whole summer -it was the only thing he cared about. He talked my ear off for two months straight about anything and everything, asking me what it was going to be like, if he’d make friends -recess. He’d wear that Justice League backpack everywhere, putting things he’d find around the house in it so it made a sound when he walked around. He’d sit at my desk in the shop and pretend to do homework. The kid was a trip, let me tell you.” Hawk chuckled softly as she pressed a kiss to Pope’s shoulder. 

“I need this to stick. For Josh, for me. I can’t can’t keep doing this to him or you. I feel like it’s gonna stick this time. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted to be clean, Hawk.” Hawk and Julia just dropped J off for his first day of kindergarten and were now parked at the beach so they could talk. Hawk tried to keep her out of the apartment as much as she could when Julia was sober. The less time she was there, by herself, the less opportunity she had to fall back into the temptation of the heroin that Hawk knew sang a siren’s song to Julia. 

“You’ll always have my unwavering support, Julia. You know that. No matter how many times you need to pick yourself up. Healing isn’t linear, but the effort needs to be. This is the most difficult thing someone can do, but I know you’re strong enough to do it.”

“I know.” Julia wiped her eyes, looking down at the fingers she’s picked raw since she left the inpatient treatment center two days ago. It was her fourth time admitted in the last six years, and every time she said the same thing. The first time, Hawk believed it. But by the second and third relapse, she took what Julia was saying with a grain of salt. “But I mean it this time.”

Hawk believed Julia wanted to stay clean. Of course Julia wanted to be present for her son and all of his milestones, this one included, but Hawk also knew the demons that Julia was chained to -the demons in the form of Smurf that would never, ever leave her side- held Julia in such a tight, unrelenting grip that she would never be free from. 

At some point Hawk knew Julia would either overcome the damage that Smurf caused and live alongside it, or she’d succumb to it. Those were the only options, and Hawk wasn’t confident that the first option would be around much longer if she continued the sober and relapse cycle she was in. For now though, she’d take advantage of the lucid time she had with her best friend because she hoped to god that there would be more days like this to come. 

“He knows how much you love him, Julia. I make sure he does. And he’s still young enough to not really understand what’s going, so there’s still a chance for you to work through this. We’ll do as many inpatient or outpatient treatments as we need to do so you can kick this, alright?” Hawk encouraged her, as she did every other time. She hoped the cycle wouldn’t repeat itself this time around, but history often repeats itself when it came to addiction. “I know it probably feels like you’re alone in this because that’s what addiction does to you, but we grew up together, Julia. I know this isn’t your fault.”

“But it’s my fault that I continue the cycle. That I let Smurf do this to me.” Her eyes were glassy when she looked over at Hawk from the passenger seat. Hawk reached over and took Julia’s shaking hand in hers, squeezing it in reassurance. 

“You didn’t let Smurf do anything. You were a goddamn  child, Julia. She got to you before I ever stepped foot in that house. Smurf didn’t give you a chance because she saw you as competition when she realized she couldn’t control you. She did what Smurf always does -she destroys.” Julia nodded, trying to breathe in and out in counts of five to calm down. “Look at me,” Hawk coaxed. Julia’s bloodshot eyes raised up to meet Hawk’s. “She doesn’t hold power over you anymore. You got yourself out of there. You did that. You got out of there before Smurf could get her hands on Josh.” 

“You did that.” Julia insisted as she shook her head. “I may have made it out, but if it wasn’t for you, I probably would’ve gone crawling back.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true though. The things you’ve done for me and Josh…that’s not something I can ever repay you for and that eats away at me.” Hawk squeezed Julia’s hand again, this time keeping her hold. 

“I’ve never expected any repayment from you, Julia, and I’d never take it. You and Josh are my family and this is what real family does. You’re all I’ve got in this world and I will protect you both until the day that I die, do you understand me?” Julia believed her, but in the back of her mind she knew nothing ever came without a price -especially kindness. Julia trusted Hawk, but she always waited for the other shoe to drop. It never did, not with Hawk. “I mean it, Julia. I do what I do because I love you and I love Josh unconditionally. I do this because I can and I want to. I do this because you deserve support and you shouldn’t be doing this alone.” Julia finally relented, nodding with shame clouding her features. 

“You know, you’re the only person I’ve ever met in my life who never expected anything from me -who wouldn’t take until there was nothing left. You and Josh, that’s it. I have nothing to give and you still stick around.” 

“And I'll continue to stick around. Just like I told you when I moved into Smurf’s -you’re never getting rid of me.” Hawk smiled at Julia, breaking the tension in the car. “How about grabbing some breakfast before we head back?” Julia smiled back, something that Hawk never saw when she was in the throes of her addiction. Hawk tattooed it into her memory. 

“How long was she sober?” Pope’s voice was raspy, his mouth tight. 

“That time?” Hawk thought back to 2005, “She made it a little over a month -thirty six days to be exact, and Hawk was proud of every one of those days. "It was the longest Julia stayed clean and I genuinely thought she’d stick with it that time, but…” Hawk trailed off, lowering her chin off Pope’s shoulder to rest her cheek against his warm back. “I miss her.” She whispered against him, the words muffled, but Pope heard her -felt her. 

Hawk felt the sting of tears springing to her eyes suddenly, her throat constricting, and when Pope felt her breath shudder, he gently turned in her arms so he could hold Hawk to him properly, kissing the top of her head as he comforted her in the quiet recesses of the dim hallway. 

Pope felt a lot of things regarding his late twin, and the more of her life he saw through Hawk’s perspective, the more regret gnawed at him. On the surface, it was easy to cut Julia off, to lock the door and throw away the key, but the older he got the more he realized that sooner or later those locked doors would need to be opened and the pictures that lined the hallway would always be a reminder of that every time he passed through.

please comment & reblog

[bizarrelittlemew]

Fave part of ac4 is how the stede characterization is the dumbest guy you've ever met. And when he gets used as a foot stool

absolutely. i love how (seemingly) every portrayal of Stede Bonnet just goes in the direction of "useless and a bit pathetic but very enthusiastic blond man". and they're right ❤

[laurearte]

Leorio qui se tape le jogging de l’examen de Hunter en costar est à mes yeux le summum de l’humour et c’est une énergie qui ne devrait jamais être omise de toute considération de son personnage

[ariminiria]

just. how casually. how easily. how very second-naturedly Jack reaches out from the driver's seat and grabs Mac by the belt when he's hanging out the window of a moving car. the trust. the brotherhood.

[lichilly]

“I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you.

Take me back to the night we met.”

— The Night We Met by Lord Huron

cw implied death, angst, OWWW OWWWIE OWWW

The day starts as usual.

The sun rises, birds chirping as you push open the balcony door to let the morning air in. Joseph steps out, a cigarette already between his fingers. You join him, two mugs of coffee in your hands. He takes one from you with a grateful smile, you both settle into the routine.

The day is beautiful. The suns warm embrace on your skin makes you want to linger there forever, soaking in her rays.

“What d’ya want for breakfast?” he asks, smoke curling lazily from his lips.

You ponder for a moment, imagining the taste of different dishes. “How about…pancakes?” you suggest, feeling your mouth water at the thought.

Joseph chuckles, stubbing out his cigarette and taking a final gulp of his coffee. “Pancakes it is then.”

You eat breakfast together at the table. Joseph flips through his script between bites, humming under his breath and glancing at the clock occasionally. A quiet sigh escapes him as he polishes off his plate.

He rises, placing his dirtied plate on the sink, setting his empty mug on top. He walks over to you, gently pushing your hair back and kissing your forehead.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later, okay?”

You hum, cheeks warming from the kiss. “I’ll pick up stuff to make your favorite for dinner tonight. I know we haven’t had it in a while.”

His eyes light up, “Sounds like a plan.”

He heads towards the entryway, grabbing his jacket. He looks back at you, a smile still lingering on his lips.

“Don’t worry, filming shouldn’t take long today. I’ll be home before you know it.”

The butterflies in your stomach flutter with his words.

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you reply, eyes droopy with morning grogginess and love.

The door clicks shut behind him, you watch a moment longer. Your eyes trace over the knob, down the mysterious crack in the wood, and watch his shadowy steps fade away. A sudden uneasiness creeps in, filling your gut with a syrupy ache. The butterflies no longer flutter, their wings cut, leaving you with a heavy feeling in their place.

You try to shake it off, but the feeling lingers, the knot in your stomach tightening with each tick of the clock. Hour after hour, minute after minute, you try to distract yourself with meaningless chores. You go grab things for dinner, the hustle and bustle of the store creating a dull hum over the pit in your stomach. A weak balm that doesn’t last the second you step through the apartment door again.

Night falls, groceries left forgotten on the counter. Seconds tick by painfully slow, each one a reminder of his absence. You can’t shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.

Joseph doesn’t return that night, or any night after that.

[daddy-long-legssss]

anytime i see a picture/video of miles and alex laughing or simply staring at each other during taotu or in 2011/2012, i always think about this line from @stereobone’s absolutely gorgeous ‘the italian job’

‘their love was so enormous neither of them knew where to put it’

and then i cry all over again

[therooknook]

Never got around to posting this beautiful and perfect comm I got from @talentlesshuman a few months ago!

(And the ref I gave her lol)

[stengeldive]

if you were to crack open my brain and pour it out this is the only thing in there

[bisexual-maelstrom12]

I love that Barack Obama included boygenius in his summer playlist and I also love that Lucy Dacus called him a war criminal

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[butch-muppet]

ive been considering changing my url for at least a year but never thought of anything until now, when i literally sat bolt upright in bed with the perfect name idea having been dropped into my brain

anyway worfsrozhenko -> butch-muppet

[sukugo]

talking about creep anakin, we can have an anakin who forces himself on obi-wan, who's admittedly predatory.

but if we try to remove that. say anakin not actually coming up to obi-wan or forcing him to do anything, just wanting and perhaps making his desire known. in this case, his actions may not be predatory, forceful, themselves. but. they still come across as such due to his condition as child of the force.

so even if anakin doesn't particularly DO anything to obi-wan, doesn’t really act pushy, it won't stop it from feeling that way for obi-wan, who falls victim to the force's whims (which are, in turn, defined by anakin)

so, it's not like either of them have a choice.

anakin can't stop the force from pleasing him. and obi-wan can't stop.... well, anything the force does.

[jam-the-hologram]

I love having a brother

[bradleysbradshaws]

Not to keep talking about this fic, but...

nobody wants to write 6-8k heartwrenching introspective one shots that rehash the events of canon but insert romantic moments between characters that make the inevitable conclusions of canon even more painful anymore.... all they know is abo, modern au and lie

[moe-broey]

LIKE..

[asxgard]

Semper Fi | [1/8]

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

| Next

Summary: You’re the ray of sunshine to Jack’s rain cloud. What do they say about opposites attracting?

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: dipping my toes into writing for jack. i kinda love him and his dynamic with this reader, so that’s why there’s a question mark referencing the number of parts this will have. will likely be writing more for them.

(Semper Fi from the Latin “Semper Fidelis” meaning always faithful, which is the motto for the U.S. Marine Corps, but I also feel like it perfectly encapsulates his character)

starts roughly two years before The Pitt, making Ellis a PGY2 and Shen a PGY3 (also Langdon & Collins a PGY2, Mohan a PGY1/intern, and McKay & Mel would still be in med school, MS4). I also refer to the year by R#, meaning Resident Year#.

Word Count: 1.6k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content

Warnings: age gap (it feeds me/reader is late 20s, Jack is late 40s), foul language, people being bad at dealing with their feelings (…Jack), trauma, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, sunshine/grumpy dynamic, angst, mild gore relating to patients, death mentions, mild suicide ideation/jokes

not beta read

You rolled in from out of town like a spring day, warm and sweet. Jack Abbot really had no idea what to think of you at the start, assessing you silently — it had to be youthful optimism. It had to be. You were likely closer to half his age and only had a few years as an attending under your belt, with a persona that oozed family medicine or pediatrics.

How the hell did you end up in emergency medicine? He knew that whatever hospital you had come from, the Pitt would beat the cheery right out of you.

Just one shift and all your sweet smiles and doe eyes would sour.

It rattled him that you did not. Not even after your first week. Not even when your gloves and gown were soaked in the blood of a car crash victim, or when the trauma room was loud with a little girl screaming, or when you told the parents of a ten year-old-boy that he was dying. You walked out of Trauma-1 with a long sigh and then continued on about your day — like exiting back into the main area had reset something inside you.

Give it a few years, he thought bitterly.

Hearing your laugh echo through the halls of the ED sent alarm bells ringing throughout his system — how the hell were you laughing? What were you even laughing at?

Aside from the handful of conversations you had had together regarding patient care, you had not said much to him. Perhaps one of the nurses had advised you to steer clear of him, worried his no-nonsense, rigid exterior would rub off on you. It was clear as day to see most of the staff enjoyed having you on nights with them.

You moved with purpose throughout the ED, checking on several of your patients before moving to the charge desk to do charting, or scribble notes. He had to hand it to you, you were efficient, despite your soft edges.

The charge nurse on nights, Bridget, was talking to you quietly when he walked by, glancing up at the board. The lull was rare, like the quiet before the storm, and he found it interesting that you took time to enjoy it. He was brutal efficiency, checking crash carts and restocking, never letting himself grow idle.

He looked back at you, “Gonna chit-chat all day?”

Your eyes found his and you only blinked, unfazed by his tone. “Everything alright, Dr. Abbot?”

He frowned before gesturing to the board, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.” Said Bridget, with a simple shrug.

You only smiled at him before turning your attention back to Bridget. You picked up a tablet, focused more on that than on Bridget, but you nodded along as she told you about her son’s most recent football game, still clearly engaged.

He minded his tone when he directed you to the ambulance bay to help with a GSW victim being wheeled in. You assessed the man quickly, moving alongside the gurney into Trauma 1. You made quick work of it, paging surgery and ordering a handful of tests, before putting your hands to work.

Jack nearly sighed in relief, knowing he would not have to hand hold — the last thing he needed was an attending who he needed to keep an eye on. He knew he would do it anyway — perhaps it was the military in him, constantly taking in input of his surroundings, never allowing himself to miss anything.

How you guided Dr. Shen with an echocardiogram to show pericardial effusion and allowed him to drain the fluid. Or how you handed tough cases to Dr. Ellis to help her learn while you stood ever vigilant by her side. Or when you sat with the intern, Sullivan, through losing his first patient. He didn’t hear the advice you offered, but he noticed that Sullivan got back to work shortly thereafter, looking less miserable.

He realized that he still didn’t fully believe that you were a perfect fit for the ED, but you were a sound teacher.

—

Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, or the Pitt as you had come to learn, was a welcomed change in your life. You had completed your residency and two years as an attending at New York-Presbyterian. You hadn’t fully intended to leave New York entirely, you just needed to get out of there — there was hardly any thought as to where you would end up.

Administration had needed you mostly on nights, which had not been your preference, but you didn’t argue. You took in your new workplace quickly, engaging with your new co-workers and trying to put your best foot forward whenever you clocked in.

While the Pitt was no less chaotic than the ED in New York, there was a particular restlessness you had begun to notice as the weeks ticked on. A never ending stream of patients, short-staffing and bad coffee seemed to weigh heavily on the ED, like it could never quite catch its breath.

The chief attending on your shifts, Dr. Abbot, took some adjusting to. He was nothing like the asshole at your last ED, but he usually had an stony, unreadable look on his face. You had never seen him crack a smile, and his gaze was more intimidating than you had expected. He had a habit of staring — not inappropriately, just assessing, just watching. Constantly observing the ED, patients, the board, you. It was not unkind, per se, but his eyes frequently held a heaviness that most backed away from — but instead of intimidating you, something instead took root in your gut.

You never took his demeanor to heart — he had been in the ED a long time, and with his calculated and calm practiced ease in which he operated, you suspected military training. The way he held himself, the way he moved, the way he demanded attention as soon as he stepped into a room did little to deter that thought.

The annoying little flutter made itself known every time you met his gaze in the weeks that followed, or when his hand met yours over a patient. It was frankly elementary, a stupid work crush — he was so much older, and he was your chief attending. Hardly appropriate. You still barely knew him, so it was easy enough to shove the feeling aside and work.

After one of the longer shifts where you had stayed an extra hour due to a hard to stabilize trauma, you wandered up to the roof. You had just intended to catch some air before returning to your apartment.

Just have a moment of solace to clear your clouded mind.

You were surprised to find you were not alone, looking across the roof to see Dr. Abbot. He was beyond the safety railing, overlooking the city, and a worry invaded your insides. Like in most things, he was just quietly looking over the city with a detached look in his eyes — not quite serious, but not entirely healthy.

You supposed this was how he dealt with a particularly gruesome shift. The topic of your own mortality was never a light one, but you could see how one might find comfort in the reminder of it. You liked to look at the sky, be reminded that life continues on, the world keeps spinning.

“So, you come here often?” You asked, startling him.

He turned to look at you, his eyes hard, “Do you?”

You shrugged with a smile, “I like to watch the sunrise.”

Abbot’s narrowed eyes held on you for several moments, before he turned back to the city, “Just spent the last hour and a half coding that kid…”

“I was there,” you said, stepping closer to the bars while still giving him ample space. “We did everything we could.”

His eyes were on you again. Sharp. Intimidating. “How do you do that?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, “What?”

He sighed, putting his hands back into his pockets like he was removing as much of himself as he could. “I don’t even know why I do this anymore. This job.”

“Because it matters.” You told him, looking over to the sun rising on the horizon. “Because we’re good at it. Because they need us. Because we need it.” You shrugged lightly even though he wasn’t looking at you. “The little things keep me going, mostly.”

Silence encased you. Most of your mentors had called that nativity.

“You know, a little girl tried to give me her stuffed bear today.” You said, glancing at him. “Her mother was coding and she wanted to give the bear to me, for luck.”

A simple smile came over your features. The mother and daughter in question had been hit by a drunk driver earlier in your shift — the mother had come in critical, while the daughter had come out of it with only a few minor scrapes and bruises.

“And those little moments? They’re enough.”

You breathed in all the horrors you had seen before exhaling them, giving them to the wind. Your mind would always be haunted by the things you saw, but you did always try to focus on the good, on the things you could control.

You both stood there together for several minutes. His outlook was not likely to change, not over some pretty words when he had spent his entire career pushing it down, and you weren’t looking to change it. But the quiet now resting between you? It was warm. It was something that was seen, like a shred of light trickling through the darkness.

He came back from the edge and moved under the railing. You moved off the roof together, a quiet understanding finally settling between you.

[ Next ]

Solely inspired by this post/picture that I saw last week

I have a similar idea planned for Robby as well whoops

(still figuring jack out so please forgive this && this will not be as frequent/consistent as some of my other stuff while i learn to write for him lol)