Boop!

Too many fandoms, not enough time :} - you can find me on instagram and ao3 at this same name :D

[cypric-rat-hyperfixation]

[wertercatt]

*pushes the button and holds it down for an excessively long time before releasing it. and then waits*

[cypric-rat-hyperfixation]

[the-true-pink-ninja]

*presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the button* *presses the bu-

[oldblogbones-deactivated2022020]

[moved-2-sillyfunny]

*Just barely pushes down the button for a very short amount of time*

[grelliam]

[oneofthosecrazycatladies]

How many languages are you fluent in?

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

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10

More than 10

Remaining time: 6 days 20 hours

[creatingblackcharacters]

I keep thinking about how I was being accused of dehumanizing Argentina by talking about what I saw and it's just like... This was a World Staged Event. The Entire Planet was watching. We all saw the poor conduct of the team and of the fans. Were we not supposed to... Gather anything from that? How is it not the fault of the team and the fans for embarrassing their country with their behavior, but instead our faults for talking about what may have led to that sort of behavior? And again, this was not just me! Plenty of folks from across the pond and in Latin America were also talking about it!

And before someone says "well you didn't talk about-" yes I did. Yes WE did. We saw Mbappe drag that racist Paraguayan senator for filth, well deserved! That whole "it's because he's from France" yeah whatever, we know what made her say what she did about him. Shit, she told us lmao. We talked about how France and these European countries sure can find Black people when they need athletes, but hate them otherwise. That was another thing that got a lot of us involved. We can see the antiblackness in it all!!!

[tenderwatches]

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

[sobcat]

ready for what the next week brings...

[writersisland]

Tiny Grammar Cheatsheet: Hyphens, En, and Em Dashes

Hyphens ( - ) are the shortest and are used to: ‣ link elements in a compound word: dog-owner ‣ separate some affixes from the rest of the word: pre-election ‣ (sometimes) take the place of the en dash indicating range: pages 24-66 ‣ indicate stuttering or abrupt interruption: M-m-micheal? ‣ spell out a word letter for letter: I said we are c-l-o-s-e-d.

En Dashes ( – ) are shorter than em dashes. They indicate a range and could usually be replaced with "from" and "to": ✓ I lived in New York 2015–2020. ⭤ I lived in New York from 2015 to 2020. But: ✗ I lived in New York from 2015–2020.

Em Dashes ( — ) are longest. They are used: ‣ to call attention to the content they separate from the rest of the sentence and emphasize it ‣ in place of commas and parentheses: When he finally apologized—after four weeks of silence—she was no longer interested in hearing him out. ‣ in place of a colon, especially to summarize, explain, or expand upon the preceding clause in a dramatic manner: After months of deliberation, the jurors reached a unanimous verdict—guilty. ‣ to summarize or note the common link in a list: Sweet, sour, salty, bitter—all tastes the cook loved to experiment with. ‣ to set off or introduce defining phrases and lists: The shop's selection of three flavors—strawberry, mint, and chocolate—was never enough variety. ‣ to indicate a new direction: I agree with you, but James—he felt otherwise. ‣ to indicate hesitation: Well, I think—Yeah, I guess it is concerning.

Fun Fact: en dashes received their name because the dash is the length of the letter N, while the em dash is the length of the letter M.

[apfelkernchen]

Interlude: Did anyone fucking ask?

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Robby gives an impromptu professionalism seminar. (Attendance was not optional.)

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Part 136: I thought an attendings wife would be hotter

--- --- ---

Robby kept his hand on Morrigan’s shoulder as they walked down the hallway. He didn’t say anything which somehow made it way worse. The med student glanced sideways at him. “Dr. Robinavitch, I-”

“No.”

Morrigan blinked. “Um, excuse me?”

“I didn’t ask you a question yet. So right now, your job is to keep your mouth shut and think very carefully about what you’re going to say when I do ask you something. Okay?”

“... okay.”

Robby guided him outside in the stairwell, in front of the family room that was empty right now. Then he removed his hand from Morrigan’s shoulder and folded his arms.

“Tell me why I escorted you here. Tell me what you did wrong.”

The student swallowed hard, his eyes darting around Robby’s face, looking for the right answer. “I… made an inappropriate comment.”

Robby nodded slowly. “What else?”

“I… I… um I didn’t realize Dr. Abbot could hear me.”

Robby stared at him for a moment, speechless, then closed his eyes. “You think that’s what you did wrong?”

“No. I mean-”

“Because if your takeaway is that you should check whether the husband is standing nearby before commenting on whether you find his wife fuckable enough, then this conversation is going to take significantly longer than I hoped.”

Morrigan crossed his arms, his face reddening instantly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I guess that was exactly what you meant. I think you just realized how fucking stupid it sounds when somebody says it back to you.”

“Dr. Robinavitch.” His voice was a little firmer now, steadier. “I was joking.”

“No.” Robby held up a hand, shaking his head. “Don’t even try to insult my intelligence, kid. You saw a woman walking through this department and decided to announce that she wasn’t hot enough to be married to an attending. If that was a joke - come on, tell me: what was the punch line? Explain it to me. Maybe I just don’t get your sophisticated humor.”

The student glared at him, his jaw working, but he stayed silent.

“Okay, so you didn’t make a fucking joke. You made an unsolicited assessment of a woman’s body. And even if it had been a joke-” Robby continued. “- it still wouldn’t make it acceptable. Calling something a joke doesn’t magically give you a get-out-of-jail-free-card.”

Morrigan stiffened, uncrossed his arms and nodded once. “Okay. I understand.”

“No, you don’t” Robby replied matter-of-factly. “But maybe you will by the time we’re done.”

“We’re not done?” the student blurted out, immediately seeming to regret it.

Robby tilted his head. “Oh. No. We’re not.” He watched him for a moment, letting him become even more uncomfortable. “You know - you’re doing very well. Your medical knowledge is excellent. You retain information, you recognize patterns quickly and your clinical reasoning is better than that of most students at your level.”

Morrigan started smiling when he heard that. Not a big smile. Small. Barely noticeable. But absolutely smug. 

Robby noticed it immediately. “But none of that matters if people can’t trust you.”

His smile fell instantly.

“You think being the smartest person in the room is enough?” Robby asked. “It isn’t. I’ve met plenty of brilliant doctors I wouldn’t let anywhere near a patient within my department.”

Morrigan pursed his lips. “I would never say something like that to a patient.”

“And I should believe you on what ground?” Robby replied, watching him closely. “You just said it in the middle of an emergency department. With no hesitation. Don’t try to make me believe that was the first time.”

Morrigan went quiet.

“I mean - you’re right. She wasn’t a patient. But she was the mother of one. She spent the whole night sitting beside her toddler daughter who came in by ambulance with a fever of a hundred and four and respiratory distress. And you looked at her and the most valuable contribution you could make was that you expected an attendings wife to be hotter.”

“I didn’t know any of that!” Morrigan replied impulsively, crossing his arms again.

“You shouldn’t have to.” Robby ran a hand through his hair. “You shouldn’t need a backstory before deciding to treat a woman with basic respect. It shouldn’t matter whether she spent the night beside a sick child. It shouldn’t matter that she’s Dr. Abbot’s wife. It shouldn’t matter whether she’s my friend. It shouldn’t matter that her little girl is my goddaughter.”

Morrigans eyes widened by that last statement.

“She could’ve been a stranger walking in from the parking lot and your comment still would’ve been inappropriate.”

Morrigan looked up sharply. “I’m sorry.”

Robby tilted his head. “Who are you apologizing to?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“Because… um… it was unprofessional.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say that unprofessional bullshit to me.”

“No.”

“So, who should you apologize to?”

“... Dr. Abbot?”

“You didn’t insult Dr. Abbot either.”

He hesitated. “I think he might disagree.”

“Probably. But the comment wasn’t about him” Robby continued. “His wife isn’t an extension of him. Might be a new concept for you but that woman is her own person. And you reduced her to whether her appearance met whatever standard you decided an attendings wife should fulfill.”

He nodded briefly. “I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then explain it back to me.”

Morrigan took a deep breath. It apparently cost him a lot not to roll his eyes. “It was disrespectful. And sexist.”

“Go on.”

“And it doesn’t matter that I didn’t know any of her background.”

“What else?”

“And that I thought no one important could hear me.”

Robby raised an eyebrow. 

Morrigan groaned. “That came out wrong.”

“You think?”

“It doesn’t matter who heard it. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Um.” He grimaced. “Because she’s a person and not something… for me… to rate.”

“Anything else?”

Morrigan thought for a moment. “Um, and talking about women that way could make my colleagues uncomfortable.”

“And?”

“And… and… and if I act like that around colleagues they have no reason to trust that I won’t think like that around patients.”

“That sums it up.” Robby leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “You wanna be a doctor?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna be a decent human being?”

He shrugged. “Yeah?”

“Then start acting like one.”

Morrigan’s jaw tightened slightly. “With all due respect, Dr. Robinavitch, I made one stupid comment.”

Robby shook his head. “And there it is.”

“What?”

“The part where you minimize it because you don’t like being held accountable.”

“I’m not minimizing it” Morrigan shot back. “I’m just trying to explain to you-”

“And I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuses.” Robby looked at him, a little frustrated himself now. “You’re telling yourself this entire conversation is excessive because you made one stupid comment. Right?”

The med student stayed quiet.

“You’re probably thinking you have excellent evaluations. You know the medicine. Your attendings like you - well, at least they did until now. You’ve never harmed a patient. So why is the head of the department dragging you down here over one sentence? Am I close?”

Morrigan apparently chose not to answer. Instead he stared at the wall behind Robby like he was hypnotized.

“So, here’s the thing, boy: Medicine isn’t only about knowing things. Patients meet us on some of the worst days of their lives. They’re scared. They’re sick. They’re naked. They’re bleeding. They have to trust us with their bodies when they’re at their most vulnerable.” He pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer. “If a woman comes in here - overweight, unwashed, intoxicated, homeless, half-dressed or wearing something you personally find attractive - she gets the same respect. Every time. Not only when somebody important is watching. Or not only when you think she’s attractive enough.”

Robby took a deep breath, trying to lower his voice again. “And if you can’t manage that I don’t care how gifted you are. You have no business becoming a doctor. And you won’t finish your rotation in my department if you keep walking around announcing stuff like that.”

Morrigan looked at him. “You think I shouldn’t become a doctor because of one comment?”

Robby squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “I think you have a choice, kid."

He made sure the student doctor was really listening to him before continuing.

“You can decide I’m an asshole who overreacted and spend the rest of the day feeling sorry for yourself. Or you can accept that somebody finally told you your attitude is a problem before you carried it into residency and became the kind of physician everyone warns female students and nurses about.”

The med student blushed.

“Your choice.”

For a while there was silence. Robby could practically see the wheels turning behind Morrigan’s eyes. Eventually the student took a breath.

“I should apologize to Mrs. Abbot.”

“No.”

“No?” he repeated, confused now.

“She didn’t hear you. And you’re not going to walk into her room while she’s sitting with her sick daughter and repeat an insult she doesn’t know happened so you can feel better about yourself.” Robby shrugged. “Your guilt isn’t her responsibility. You don’t get to hand it to her and ask for forgiveness.”

“... okay.”

“But you will apologize to the students who heard you?”

“Um - what?!”

“You said it in front of them. You made the environment unprofessional in front of them. So you’re going to acknowledge that.”

His face reddened even more while looking down at his shoes. “Um… that’s going to be humiliating.”

“Yeah.” Robby shrugged. “Try to survive.”

Morrigan gritted his teeth. “Anything else, Dr. Robinavitch?”

“Yes.” Robby stepped another step closer. “The next time you look at a woman and feel the overwhelming need to announce whether you find her attractive I want you to ask yourself one question.”

“Um… okay? Which one?”

“Did anyone fucking ask?”

Morrigan swallowed. Hard.

“And if the answer is no try this revolutionary technique.” Robby leaned slightly closer. “Keep it inside your head.”

The med student took a step back and nodded. “Understood.”

“Good.” Robby straightened again. “You know - you’re not beyond fixing. If I thought you were, we’d be having a very different conversation.” He paused for a moment. “Now, go back to work. And if I were you I’d avoid Central seven today. You’re not in Dr. Abbot’s good book today.”

Morrigan nodded and hurried away. 

Robby watched him leave and shook his head. “Fucking asshole” he muttered. “Stupid fucking asshole.”

--- --- ---

You wanna keep reading? - Next part is coming soon, I promise.

--- --- ---

Tag list: @itjustpunkpizzabae, @theariesview @michasia24 @bye-bye-gremlings @tyghvbuijknmopkl @momdancingtomcr @alexxavicry @rainforestfrogss @starkgaryan @moistointments @rossy1080 @abzidabzy @weepingwhispersengineer @cherryybombsworld @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @romanticpursuit @nicelittletriptotheforest @teenytinylilcrawdaddies @camie18 @thewillowarchive @fortjackson @eugene-emt-roe @nicksolemnlyswears @sarah-fuckyou @beepitybeepboop @amnatreal @goldfishenthusiast67 @karleyyyjaeee @starsmoonn @doesanyonereadthis @introvertedphilomath @noellealexisss @sweetwanderlust05 @eugene-emt-roe @lovehadlovelost @amacphet @asparklysoul @shinyskeletonsky @givemethemaknaes16 @artemis-the-ace @marvelsimps @anyasthoughts @amacphet @mukeovernetflix @doe-jenna @prettyflowerlily @emma8895eb

[damalseer]

Go robby

[apfelkernchen]

I thought an attending’s wife would be hotter

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: An overnight stay in the Pitt... and Jack almost commits homicide over one careless comment.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Interlude: Congratulations on successfully keeping a very boring secret

--- --- ---

It was a quiet evening which alone felt weird. Jack had just left for nightshift and you were still sitting at the kitchen table, watching Lizzie eat dinner.

Or more - watching her push pieces of pasta around her plate before dropping her fork with a small sigh. Lizzie had inherited Jack’s appetite and normally treated every meal like she had been starving for several days so… that was suspicious.

You looked her over. “Do you want any more, Bean?”

She shook her head and rubbed both hands over her eyes. You looked at the clock. It was barely past seven.

“Are you already tired, baby?”

She nodded slowly and immediately stretched her arms toward you. “Mommy.”

You lifted her out of her chair and settled her against your hip. Her head dropped onto your shoulder almost immediately.

“Wow, baby huh?” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Someone really is tired.”

She felt warm. Not alarmingly hot but warmer than usual. And heavier somehow as if she wasn’t helping hold herself up against your shoulder.

You carried her into the bathroom, somehow managed to brush her teeth (despite her barely opening her mouth) and changed her diaper before putting her into pajamas. She didn’t protest once.

No attempts to run away without pants. No argument about brushing her teeth. No dramatic collapse onto the bathroom floor because you wouldn’t let her take her toothbrush to bed.

That was even more concerning than the warmth of her skin.

“Let’s check your temperature, hm, Lizzie Bear?” you murmered.

100.8°F.

Not too bad. She had probably just caught another daycare virus. Daycares were breeding ground for germs so… not surprising she had caught something.

You gave her some children’s Tylenol, made sure she drank a little water and lifted her onto her hip again. “You want to sleep in Mommy’s bed?”

For the past few weeks the answer had always been yes. Usually accompanied by tears, screaming and her clinging to your neck like she was made of velcro.

Tonight… she shook her head. “Izzie bed.”

You stopped, blinking. “You want to sleep in your own bed?”

She nodded sleepily.

That should have felt like progress. Instead something uncomfortable settled in your stomach.

You carefully placed her in her bed, expecting her to immediately sit up again and demand to come with you.

She didn’t.

She rolled onto her side, hugged her stuffed giraffe against her chest, put her thumb into her mouth and closed her eyes. Within a minute she was asleep.

You stood beside her bed, watching her. 

It felt… wrong.

You placed your hand against her forehead again - she was still warm but not too hot. She would feel better once the Tylenol kicked in.

“Sleep well, baby” you whispered and kissed her hair.

When you left the room you left the door open. Just in case.

Jack: Shift is crazy. Just sneaked to the bathroom to text you. How are my girls? You: Lizzie barely ate and went to sleep in her own bed. Jack: Maybe the peek-a-boo worked? You: She also feels a little warm. Jack: You can give her Tylenol if she’s running a fever. Probably just daycare germs. Keep an eye on her and make sure she drinks. You: Yes, Dr. Abbot. Jack: I’d love some sexting but need to run again. I love you. You: Love you too

You cleaned the kitchen, then the living room. When you glanced at the clock it was barely nine. You sat down, staring at nothing in particular. You had almost forgotten how it was when you didn’t have a clingy toddler stuck to your hip - you really got shit done.

And still… it felt wrong.

You took a shower and washed your hair. You didn’t bother to blow-dry it - you didn’t want to wake up Lizzie and you would take care of them in the morning anyway. After checking on Lizzie again you went to bed, shortly after ten.

You were exhausted. After the last few weeks you should have fallen asleep the second your head touched the pillow - but you couldn’t.

The bed suddenly was too… empty. Jack wasn’t there because he was working. And Lizzie wasn’t there either. It just felt… wrong. It was too quiet.

You turned onto your side and closed your eyes but sleep wouldn’t come. You tried breathing exercises - nothing. You tried counting sheep - nothing. You tried to remember what Jack had told you about that incredibly boring medical article - nothing.

At eleven thirty you went into Lizzie’s room again and placed your hand against her forehead. She was still warm. When you took her temperature it was 102.1°F.

You sat beside her for a while, watching her breathe. You frowned a little. Maybe you were imagining it but she was breathing a little faster than usual. But then… you were tired and probably saw ghosts.

You almost reached for your phone to record a video for Jack, then immediately felt ridiculous. He had told you what to do. Keep an eye on her. Make sure she drinks water. You had given her Tylenol. And in the end… she probably just needed to sleep it off.

You stayed in the rocking chair and closed your eyes.

At some point you must have drifted off because when you opened your eyes again and glanced at your watch it was 2:02 a.m.

You blinked confused then when you heard strange sounds coming from her bed. You reached over and switched on the small lamp, then stood.

“Lizzie?”

She didn't answer. She was lying on her back now, her head turned strangely to one side. And you could hear her breath - fast, shallow… just so terribly wrong.

“Baby?”

Her cheeks were bright red and damp curls stuck to her forehead. You touched her face and immediately pulled your hand back. “Fuck, you’re burning up.”

You lifted her carefully into your arms. “Hey baby. Wake up for Mommy, huh? Can you please wake up for Mommy?”

She opened her eyes but she didn’t seem to look at you. Her gaze was unfocused, glassy. “Mama” she mumbled.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

“No… daddy… Amber… cado…” Her words ran together.

You grabbed the thermometer.

104.2°F.

“Oh fuck.” Your heart started pounding. “Okay, okay. It’s okay. We’re taking care of that. Don’t worry, baby. Mommy’s taking care of you.”

Lizzie just whimpered. That’s when you noticed that her chest moved too quickly. The skin beneath her ribs pulled inward with every breath.

“Oh, fuck, what am I supposed to do?” You glanced down at your daughter, swallowing hard. Then you reached for your phone and called Jack.

It rang.

And rang.

No answer.

You called again.

Still nothing.

Lizzie started coughing against your shoulder. It was deep and wet and afterwards she started crying weakly. Your stomach tightened with fear.

You opened the chat with him - and noticed he didn’t even read the last message you sent him hours ago.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You called Robby - and it rang until his voicemail picked up.

“FUCK.”

You looked at the bottle of Tylenol on the table.

When had you given it to her? Seven? Half past seven? Could she have more? And if so - how much? Would it make it worse? Could it harm her?

You tried to read the label but suddenly none of the words made any sense.

Lizzie made another strange sound - something between a cough and a cry, too wet, too weak, too wrong.

You looked down. Her eyes were half closed.

“Bean?”

She didn’t answer.

“Lizzie?”

Still no answer.

“Fuck.”

That was enough.

You called 911.

The emergency department was busy. A little more chaotic than usual - nothing catastrophic, but enough to prevent anyone from taking a bathroom break and to make keep Jack from catching his breath between cases.

Jack stood inside a trauma bay, watching one of the interns, Nazely, attempt to insert a central venous catheter in the internal jugular vein. 

“A little farther lateral” he said, nodding along.

She adjusted the probe, sweat building on her forehead. “Like that?”

“Yeah. There. Slow down now. You know the steps. Take a deep breath. What will make you stop?”

Her eyes returned to the ultrasound screen. “If I lose sight of the needle.”

“Exactly. You don’t advance blindly. If the anatomy stops making sense, stop and reassess. There’s no prize for being fast.”

She nodded.

“And don’t just stare at the screen. Pay attention to the patient, too.”

Across the department Lena answered the incoming ambulance call. “PTMC emergency.”

She listened, her eyes darting around the room. “Got it.” Then she looked up, finding John leaning in the doorway of the trauma bay Jack was in. “Hey John - seventeen month old female, high fever, altered mental status. Increased work of breathing, possible pneumonia. Mother accompanying.”

John looked up from the tablet in his hand, slurping another sip of his iced coffee. “Got it.”

“ETA four minutes.”

Jack glanced up. “Need help?”

“Nah” John replied. “Stay here. Just try and don’t terrify Nazely, hm?”

“I’m not terrifying anyone. You’re doing great” Jack added, giving her a smile.

John laughed and walked over to the nurses’ counter, placing his drink on the counter and grabbing a pair of gloves.

A few minutes later the ambulance door opened and paramedics entered, wheeling a gurney. “Seventeen-month-old female. Fever started this evening. Mom found her difficult to wake around two. Temperature one-oh-four point two at home. Increased respiratory effort. Oxygen saturation ninety-one on room air, improved to ninety-five on six liters via face mask.”

John looked up - and stopped dead when he saw you.

Your hair was tied into a messy bun and you were wearing an old jacket over mismatched pajamas. Your eyes were red and you looked exhausted and terrified.

Then he looked at the child on the gurney. “Oh, fuck.”

“John” you said, voice trembling, tears already filling your eyes again.

He moved immediately. “Okay, I’ve got her. Central seven is open.”

Mateo joined them. “Hey Lizzie.” 

John looked up at you. “You’re in the right place. We’ve got her.”

They wheeled her into the room. Lizzie barely reacted when they transferred her onto the hospital bed. They got to work with the effortless coordination of people who’d done this together countless times.

“Okay, Lizzie, let's get you feeling better” Mateo gave you a reassuring smile. 

You stood beside her, not exactly knowing what to do, feeling partly helpless and partly relieved that she was finally getting help.”Where’s Jack?”

John glanced toward the department, while already hovering with his stethoscope over Lizzie’s chest. “He’s somewhere around here.”

“I tried to call him” you whispered. “Twice. He didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit chaotic tonight.”

Lena put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I’ll get him, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Focus on Lizzie.”

Jack was still with Nazely when Lena approached him, Parker in tow. “Jack.”

“Mhm?” He glanced up. “Give me a second. We just need to stitch it in now.”

“Jack.” Something in her voice let him look up properly.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to hand this over to Parker.”

“What? Why?”

“Your daughter’s here.”

He stared at her, stopping mid-movement. He looked like his brain needed a minute to process it - and failed spectacularly. Nazely looked up, her eyes widened, then glanced over to the attending.

“She came in by ambulance” Lena continued.

The color drained from his face. “Why?”

“High fever. Breathing problems. John has her. Central 7”

Jack wasn’t even listening anymore. He was already walking out, yanking off his gloves and tearing off his protective gown.

He entered the room only a couple of minutes later. “Okay, fill me in.” Then his gaze dropped down at Lizzie and he stopped completely. She looked tiny on the gurney. Her face was flushed and barely visible beneath the oxygen mask. EKG leads and the blood pressure cuff attached her to the monitor while Mateo was busy putting a line into her arm. She barely flinched when the needle punctured her skin.

John was listening to her lungs.

“Bean.” His voice cracked. He moved to the bed and touched her hair with shaking hands. “Hey, baby. Don’t worry. Daddy’s here.”

She opened her eyes for a moment, then closed them again.

Then he turned to you. “What happened?”

You took a shaky breath. “I… I told you. She barely ate. She was tired and had a little fever, so I gave her Tylenol. And then I checked on her and she was burning up and babbling and breathing weirdly and I called you, but you didn’t answer and then I called Robby, but he didn’t answer either and then I panicked and I called 911 and-”

“Hey.” He reached for you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe. Take a nice deep breath for me, okay?”

You hiccuped and pressed yourself closer to him. You tried to calm down - you really tried - but it was nearly impossible. “I didn’t know what the right thing was” you whispered.

“You called 911, honey. That was the right thing, okay?”

You barely nodded. He stroked your hair for another moment, then pressed a kiss to your forehead and turned around to John, who put the stethoscope around his neck again.

“What do her lungs sound like?”

John glanced over to him, then held out a finger. “Give me a second, Jack.” He turned to Mateo. “Let’s get a CBC and CMP while you’re in there. Blood cultures. Send a respiratory panel and give her another dose of Tylenol - Mom gave the last one around seven thirty. Start a ten-mil-per-kilo saline bolus. Keep her on six liters oxygen and continuous pulse ox. I’ll order a portable chest X-ray asap.”

Mateo nodded. “Got it, boss.”

John watched the monitor for a moment, then turned back to Jack. “I’m hearing crackles on the right and her right lower lung sounds diminished.”

“So-”

“I suspect pneumonia.” He thought about it for a moment, then turned back to Mateo. “Once you’ve drawn the cultures start five hundred milligrams of ampicillin IV. She doesn’t have any allergies, right?” he asked you.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Five hundred?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Mom said she’s around twenty-two pounds” John said, crossing his arms.

“Twenty-one point seven.”

“That’s practically twenty-two pounds, Jack. And five hundred is the appropriate dose.”

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Okay.” Then he scanned her vitals. “What do you need me to do?”

“Abbot” John interrupted gently. “I’ve got her medically. Right now, I need you to be her dad, okay?”

Jack looked down at Lizzie and nodded eventually. “Okay. But-”

“No buts. If you see me making a mistake, you tell me. A mistake” he repeated, emphasizing every word. “Not a suggestion. Not something you would’ve done differently. A mistake. You understand?”

Jack swallowed hard and looked sideways. Eventually he nodded.

“Good.” John nodded. “But I think I’ve got this. We’re waiting for the imaging and then we adjust the therapy, okay?”

You squeezed Jack’s hand. He let out a sigh. “Okay.”

Mateo crouched beside the gurney. “Hey Lizzie Bear” he said softly. “Remember me?”

She barely opened her eyes. “Teo” she mumbled, barely audible behind the oxygen mask.

Mateo smiled. “Yeah. It’s Teo. I’m gonna help making you feel better, okay?”

She had already closed her eyes again. 

He began working with quiet confidence - drawing blood, swabbing her for the respiratory panel (she barely flinched which alone was enough to nearly break your heart) and administering another dose of Tylenol via the IV and then starting the saline bolus.

John typed in the orders then gave the room another look around. “Okay, that’s it for the moment. Jack - you can stay here, okay? I’ll fetch you if things go south outside.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks, man.”

John waved his hand. “Sure.” Then he left.

Mateo took the blood samples and gave you a look. “Is there anything I can get for you, mom? Water? Coffee? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “No. Thank you.”

“Okay. Just tell me, if there’s anything I can get you, okay?” Mateo smiled at you again.

“Thanks.” Your voice was quiet.

“Sure thing.” He nodded and left the room, leaving you and Jack alone with Lizzie.

Jack glanced at the monitor. “It’s getting a little better” he said quietly.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He nodded, then pulled you closer, pressing another kiss onto your hair. “Yeah.”

The chest X-ray showed pneumonia. It wasn’t John who delivered the news. Jack had checked Lizzie’s chart about an hour later and seen the chest X-ray himself.

You glanced at him from your place on the fold-out chair beside her bed. “Are you even supposed to do that?”

“Do what, honey?” Jack asked absent-mindedly while scrolling through her lab results.

“Check her chart.”

He turned his head. “Honey, you know, I’m a doctor here, right?”

“Yeah, but still - you’re her relative.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. It feels kind of wrong?”

“Not to me.” He kept scrolling, then glanced toward the door.

When he saw John approaching, his iced coffee a constant companion, he logged himself out quickly and sat down next to you.

Lizzie was still sleeping but looking better. Her cheeks weren’t as flushed as before and her breathing had become a little calmer.

John knocked and entered the room. “Everything’s okay in here?”

You looked up and nodded. “Yeah, thanks John.”

Jack deliberately didn’t look at him. “Are her results in?”

A brief silence followed. Then - “Jack. Don’t try to bullshit me.”

Jack blinked and turned his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You know I can see all the people accessing my patient’s charts when I’m accessing them at the same time, right? And I was not surprised to see the name abbotja come up when I was checking her results five minutes ago.”

Jack cleared his throat. His ears had turned pink and he was trying hard to look innocent. “Well, you know how often our IT system glitches” he said with a shrug. “Happens all the time.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever man.” John walked over, glancing at the monitor. “Her vitals are looking good. We’re switching to oxygen via nasal cannula and reducing supplementary oxygen to two liters to see if she can hold her oxygen levels with that. Her last temperature was-”

“101.1°F” Jack shot back without missing a beat. “I checked it like ten minutes ago.”

“Okay, boss.” John shook his head. “So, I’d like to keep her for a few more hours. Lets see how it’s going with the reduced oxygen and give her the next ampicillin dose at nine. If she’s doing well off oxygen by then I guess we can send her home.”

Jack nodded quickly. He reached over and squeezed your hand. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah. I’ll be surprised if you didn’t already put all these orders in” John said, rolling his eyes. “So, lets switch her to the nasal cannula and-”

Jack was already standing. “I’ll do it.”

“Whatever.” John glanced at you. “And well, we’ve got a MVC, a code stroke and a MI en route. I could really use another attending out there.”

Jack swallowed hard and glanced at you. You nodded. “Yeah, it’s your job. Go. I’ll watch her.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

John gave him a thumbs up. “Great. Thanks.” Then turned toward you. “Do you want anything? Coffee?”

You stifled a yawn. “No, thanks. I think I’ll actually try to get some sleep.”

John smiled. “Good plan. But I can almost guarantee you it won’t work. But never hurts to try.”

“That’s a great pep talk, thanks.”

John smiled, already at the door. “Always happy to help.”

By morning Lizzie’s fever had come down. Her breathing was still faster than normal but she no longer needed a lot of oxygen. Right now it was only one liter and John had decided to remove it completely after shift change. She was still sleeping, her hand wrapped around your finger.

You on the other hand hadn’t slept much exactly as John predicted. Your hair had mostly escaped your bun. Your eyes burned. You could smell yourself - and were painfully aware that you were still wearing the mismatched pajamas.

Jack came into the room after shift change - still in scrubs and looking almost as tired as you felt. “Okay, handover is done. I’m free.” He yawned then checked her monitor. “Robby should be in shortly to take her off the oxygen. If she’s fine without it at ten, then we can take her home.”

You smiled. “Sounds good.”

He then sat beside you and pressed a kiss to your temple. You made a face. “Don’t. I smell horrible and I didn’t even brush my teeth.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Trust me, that’s the last of my concerns.” He stroked Lizzie’s hand and she stirred, letting go of your finger and grabbing his wrist. She opened her eyes briefly. “Daddy.”

He swallowed hard. “Hey, Bean.”

She smiled a little, then closed her eyes again. You took the opportunity to free yourself and stood. “Okay, I need to pee.”

Jack chuckled. “Romantic.”

“I’ve been holding it for an hour because she wouldn’t let go of my hand and I didn’t want to wake her up.”

“I’m just teasing you.” He looked up at you and smiled. “Go, I’ve got her. You can also ask Dana if we have some toiletries. We usually keep some stuff like toothbrushes, brushes and deodorant here.”

You started to smile, then leaned down and kissed his cheek. “That’s the best idea you ever had, Dr. Abbot.” You stretched and yawned, scratching your side. “Okay, I just go freshen up and then I’ll be right back.”

You stepped into the hallway, passing the nurses’ station on your way to the restrooms. Robby saw you, then walked past a group of med students huddled near the nurses’ station, just a couple of feet away, and stepped into the room, leaving the door open.

“How is she?” he asked, glancing at the monitor.

“Better” Jack said. “Waiting for her repeat labs to come back. But I think we can take her home later.”

Robby stepped to the computer, held his badge to login and started scrolling through her chart. Jack glanced at Lizzie, who was still sleeping, then stood and joined Robby.

The room fell silent.

That’s when they could hear the med students talking outside.

“That’s Dr. Abbot’s wife by the way.”

“That’s her?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” There was a pause. “I thought an attending’s wife would be way hotter.”

Jack slowly lifted his head and went terribly quiet. Robby had gone still too. He immediately looked over at Jack. “No.”

Jack turned his head and stared toward the open door. Robby’s eyebrow raised and he logged off the computer, turning a little.

Jack’s jaw tightened and the look in his eyes was murderous. “Who was that?”

“One of the med students” Robby said in a low, calm voice.

Jack stared at him. “What’s his name?”

“No, absolutely not.”

Jack straightened, sticking out his chest in an attempt to look more intimidating. “Michael, I asked you what his name is.”

“And I’m not telling you” Robby replied, stepping between him and the door. “Sit down.”

“No fucking way. I’m going to talk to him.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I just want to have a conversation.” Jack was still terrifyingly calm.

“No.”

Jack’s jaw tightened even more and he narrowed his eyes, staring at Robby like he wanted to murder him instead. “What do you mean - no? Why not?”

“Because I’m not letting you go out there and create a Code Hula Hoop.”

“I’m not going to assault him.” Still that calm voice.

“Wonderful. An inspiringly low standard” Robby said with no hint of amusement.

“Michael.” Jack lifted his chin. His eyes were sparkling with rage. “He insulted my wife.”

“I heard what that little douche said.”

“He insulted my wife who just spent the entire night sitting beside our sick daughter. My wife who was terrified and sick with worry - and that little asshole thinks this is the right time to judge whether she’s hot enough for me?”

“He was completely out of line for that, I agree” Robby replied.

“Then get out of my way so I can deal with that little shit” Jack snapped.

“No.”

“Michael.”

“No.”

Jack took a step to the side - Robby followed him. He tried to take a step forward - Robby blocked him.

For several seconds, neither of them moved. They were just standing very close together, glaring at each other without blinking. Jack had to hold himself back not to just push Robby to the side.

“Are you seriously blocking the fucking door?” He swallowed hard, his hands curled into fists. His voice was no longer calm but angry.

“Yes.”

“Move.”

“No.”

“Michael, I’m a fucking attending here.”

“And I’m the fucking head of this fucking department. And as your boss I’m telling you to sit down and take care of your daughter.”

Jack instantly looked toward Lizzie. She was still asleep, still looking too tiny for the bed she was lying in. His face softened for a moment. When he looked back toward the hallway where he could still hear the med students talking his face went hard again. “That asshole doesn’t get to talk about her like that. And I’ll teach him that lesson.”

“You’re right. He’s not supposed to talk about her like that. For the matter he’s not supposed to talk about any woman like that.” Robby paused for a moment. “And I’m going to make sure of that.”

Jack stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “You’re going to deal with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Properly?”

Robby raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Jack stared at him for another moment, then exhaled slowly and looked to the side. Robby used that moment to place a hand against his shoulder and gently pushed him backwards until he reached the chair. “Sit.”

Jack, this time, followed this order.

Robby nodded and straightened. “I’ve got this, brother. Trust me.”

Jack nodded slowly. “‘kay.”

Robby rolled his shoulders, then cracked the knuckles on both hands. After he took a deep breath he stepped into the hallway. He looked over to the counter, smiling pleasantly. “Student doctor Morrigan.”

The student looked over. “Yes, Dr. Robinavitch?”

“Come on.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“We’re going to walk a little.”

“Um… why?” The med student was clearly uncomfortable by that suggestion.

His other students exchanged a look.

Robby didn’t answer immediately, instead glanced back through the open door where Jack was staring directly at them. “Because initially Dr. Abbot wanted to speak to you. Alone. About what you just said about his wife.”

The student went pale and glanced toward Jack with wide eyes.

“And I convinced him that would be a terrible idea. For him and you.” He paused. “So… you get the pleasure of having a nice little chat with me instead.”

“Um…” The student swallowed hard.

“Just to be clear - that wasn’t a suggestion” Robby raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the hallway. “So, let’s go.”

“Um, yes.” The student glanced at his pals, clearly looking for someone to rescue him - and when no one intervened, he walked over to Robby, stiffly, horrified.

Robby placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “So, let’s have a conversation about your view of women, shall we?”

They disappeared down the hallway. 

Jack watched them leave, then turned his head and stared at the remaining students. They suddenly found excuses to leave. Within seconds the space where they had huddled was empty.

Jack exhaled loudly through his nose, then returned to Lizzie.

When you came back - your hair in an actual ponytail, your teeth brushed, smelling slightly better thanks to some body wash and a washcloth and wearing a pair of scrubs, carrying your pajamas in a plastic bag - Jack was already sitting beside Lizzie’s bed again.

He looked up. “Why are you wearing scrubs?”

“Dana gave them to me. You have to return them but she said she can’t have me run around in that outfit” you replied smiling.

Lizzie was awake, sitting upright in her bed and slowly drinking apple juice from a sippy cup. When she saw you, she began to smile. “Mommy!”

You swallowed hard, already teary-eyed again. You put the plastic bag down, then sat on her bed, pulling her close, kissing her head. “Hey baby. How are you?”

“Izzie dwink.”

“Yeah, baby, I can see you’re drinking. Juice, hm? Did Mateo bring this to you?”

“No, it was Daddy” Jack said with a huff. “And I honestly thought she tried to say twink and I was already wondering to whom she was referring to.”

You chuckled, pressing another kiss onto Lizzie's head.

Jack watched you for a moment. You watched his Adam’s apple bob while he tried to compose himself - and for the first time you realized that this had been very stressful for him too. Even when he had dealt with thousands of patients with pneumonia before… it was the first time with his daughter.

He looked up and gave a crooked smile. Then, with a groan, he climbed onto the bed as well, settling on Lizzie’s other side. He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulled you closer and kissed you gently.

“Oh, wow, what’s this for?” you asked with a smile, leaning your head onto his.

“Nothing. It’s just… I love you.” 

You smiled. “I love you too.”

“No.” He pulled back a little to look at you. “I mean - I really love you, okay?”

“Um. Okay.”

“And I’m proud of you. You handled this like a champ.”

You blushed a little and shrugged, your eyes starting to burn. “I was terrified.”

“And you did exactly the right thing. You tried to call me and when you couldn’t reach me you called 911. You’re nailing this motherhood shit, honey.”

You let out a teary laugh. “Thanks.”

“No, I really mean it. You’re such a tough and independent woman.” He smiled, cuddling against you again. “And you’re also beautiful and hot and incredibly competent.”

Lizzie tipped her head back to look at Jack’s face. “Daddy!”

He pulled her towards him with his free arm. She squealed delighted.

“Watch out, Lizzie” you mumbled, smiling happily. “Daddy talks so much stuff that I’m wondering if he’s the one with fever now.”

She let out another squeal.

“Jesus” Jack muttered. “I think her oxygen level is fine again.”

--- --- ---

You wanna keep reading? - Next part is coming soon, I promise.

--- --- ---

Tag list: @itjustpunkpizzabae, @theariesview @michasia24 @bye-bye-gremlings @tyghvbuijknmopkl @momdancingtomcr @alexxavicry @rainforestfrogss @starkgaryan @moistointments @rossy1080 @abzidabzy @weepingwhispersengineer @cherryybombsworld @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @romanticpursuit @nicelittletriptotheforest @teenytinylilcrawdaddies @camie18 @thewillowarchive @fortjackson @eugene-emt-roe @nicksolemnlyswears @sarah-fuckyou @beepitybeepboop @amnatreal @goldfishenthusiast67 @karleyyyjaeee @starsmoonn @doesanyonereadthis @introvertedphilomath @noellealexisss @sweetwanderlust05 @eugene-emt-roe @lovehadlovelost @amacphet @asparklysoul @shinyskeletonsky @givemethemaknaes16 @artemis-the-ace @marvelsimps @anyasthoughts @amacphet @mukeovernetflix @doe-jenna @prettyflowerlily @emma8895eb

[damalseer]

🥺

[apfelkernchen]

Interlude: Congratulations on successfully keeping a very boring secret

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: Jack has a moral dilemma over brunch. Robby has scrambled eggs and absolutely no interest in indulging it.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Interlude: Your husband is very well connected within the PTMC

--- --- ---

The diner was quite busy which wasn’t unusual for a Sunday morning. The usual crowd. Families, friends laughing over a couple of cheeky mimosas and couples either arguing over coffee or holding hands while looking deeply smug.

Jack sat in their usual booth by the window, one hand wrapped around a mug of coffee while he stared at the stack of pancakes in front of him. Across from him Robby was eating scrambled eggs with the appetite of a man who saw his food as a challenge, not a suggestion.

For several minutes neither of them spoke, which also wasn’t unusual. After all they had known each other long enough that silence didn’t need to be filled. And they saw each other frequently enough - at work and outside of it - so there was no great need to catch up.

But today the silence felt heavier, loaded - different. Different enough that even Robby noticed. 

He glanced up suspiciously. “Okay. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm. Yeah, okay, sure.”

Robby waited. Jack stayed quiet.

“You know” Robby continued. “Most people come to brunch because they enjoy talking to each other. Or at least enjoy spending time together.”

“I enjoy spending time with you.”

“Well, okay, maybe I’d believe you if you didn’t look like your dog had just died when you said it.”

Jack rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee, still quiet.

“So.” Robby tilted his head. “Spill it. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Okay - what are you thinking about doing?”

Jack stared at him.

Robby smiled slowly. “Knew it.”

Jack exhaled and leaned back against the booth. 

For a moment he watched someone outside walk past the diner with a dog wearing blinking Christmas antlers. 

Then he looked back at Robby. “I haven’t told her.”

Robby frowned. “Told who what?”

“My wife. About the job.”

“What about the job?”

“I haven’t told her that that stupid text you sent her was my idea.”

Robby paused, then shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Okay? That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Robby looked visibly confused now.

“I don’t know. Something useful for a change?”

“Okay.” Robby took another bite of his eggs. “Congratulations on successfully keeping a very boring secret.”

Jack just stared at him.

“What?” Robby asked. “Seriously - it worked out.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Oh, come on, you have to be kidding me.” Robby put the cutlery down and stared at him, stunned. “She got a job in her own field. She’s happy. She’s excited. Her new department is going to be very happy to have her. Everybody wins.”

Jack shook his head and crossed his arms. “She thinks you found the opening and thought of her.”

“I did think of her” Robby shot back.

“After I told you to send it to her.”

“That still counts.”

“No, Michael. It doesn’t.” Jack let out a frustrated sigh. “I feel like I’m lying to her.”

“But you’re not lying to her.” Robby stared at him.

“I’m kind of withholding information. That’s lying. In a way.” Jack swallowed hard.

Robby closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “You went to therapy again, right? That therapist is clearly messing with your head, man.” Robby shook his head. “You don’t have to be a hundred percent perfect all the time, you know that, right?”

Jack shrugged. “I’m not gonna lie to my wife.”

“My man, you’re seriously considering rocking the boat even though it all worked out in the end?”

“It’s not rocking the boat” Jack mumbled. “It’s just… I don’t feel comfortable right now. And no, I didn’t even talk about that in therapy. I came to that conclusion all by myself.”

“Boy, okay, that explains it. Maybe run this by your therapist first then, huh?” 

“You just said she’s messing with my head” Jack shot back.

“Yeah, but that was before I knew that this idea of yours was born in a very strange corner of your brain.”

Jack let out a sigh. “I’m gonna tell her.”

“And what do you expect to happen?” Robby rubbed his temple. “Honestly? What’s the outcome you’re hoping for?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, yeah, how can I not be supportive of such an excellent, well-thought-out plan?” Robby replied, dryly.

Jack looked bewildered. “I’m not expecting anything. I just… want her to know.”

Robby watched him. “Why?”

“Because she thanked you.”

“What now?” 

“She kept saying how thoughtful you were. How nice it was that you remembered she was looking for work.” Jack rubbed his thumb over the edge of the table. “And I sat there knowing you only sent it because I asked you to.”

Robby paused. “Okay, so now you’re throwing me under the bus as well?”

Jack groaned. “No!”

“Doesn’t sound reassuring.”

“...I don’t know.”

“Well… okay, I’m making a cultural reference now and you’re not allowed to ask how I’d know about this, okay?” Robby looked at him seriously.

Jack tilted his head. “Um. Okay.”

“Okay, so… when Carrie cheated on Aidan with Big she didn’t keep quiet about it. No, she tells Aidan. And he says to her “I just wish I didn’t know about this.” And then they break up. So… what if telling your wife about this makes you the Carrie here? There’s no need to confess.”

Jack stared at Robby for a long time. “I… um… you know I didn’t cheat on her, right?”

Robby rolled his eyes. “I know. My point still stands.”

“Um.” Jack took a tiny sip of coffee. “I’m honestly a little thrown off track now with you quoting Sex and the City.”

He shrugged. “It was Janey’s favorite show. I watched a ton of it.”

“Mhm.” Jack stared into his mug. “I mean - I get what you’re saying but still… um… no, it’s not the same. I’m gonna tell her.”

“Fine.” Robby groaned. “You’re going to tell her. I’ve clearly got no chance of talking you out of it.”

Jack shook his head. “Nope.”

“Great” Robby muttered into his own mug. “Can’t wait.” He picked up his fork again. “But please, one condition.”

Jack groaned. “I think I’ve agreed to enough of your conditions lately.”

“Good thing I don’t care.” He glanced at Jack. “If you’re going to tell her, tell her before Christmas or after Christmas. I’m not sitting through another Abbot Family Christmas wondering whether you two are about to implode.”

“Since when you are sitting through our Christmas?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Um. You remember that you and your wife invited me over on Christmas Day to watch Lizzie open her presents, right?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jack nodded, pulling the plate with pancakes a little closer. “I mean I have to check with my wife again but yeah, I think that’s still on the table.”

Robby rolled his eyes. “You’re really getting off on that whole wife thing, right?”

“Yep.”

“Great.” Robby threw a napkin at him. “Here, you may need it to clean yourself up if you say wife a few more times.”

Jack caught the napkin, flipped him off, then started eating.

They both ate in silence for a minute.

Then Robby lifted his head. “So… Christmas is going to be completely different this year, huh?”

Jack looked up. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Last year you were one step away from blowing up your relationship because you made a unilateral decision without talking to your wife first.” He shrugged. “This year you’re actually taking time off. You chose to be there. That’s already a hell of an improvement.”

“The bar is on the floor” Jack muttered, then added a little louder: “I’m still keeping something from her.”

Robby sighed. “Yeah, a stupid little white lie that’s eating you alive because you actually give a damn. That’s not the same thing.”

Jack shrugged this time, still not fully convinced.

Robby picked his fork up again. “So this year it’ll only be presents, pancakes and peaceful family time.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “You’re counting yourself as part of our family right?”

“Hell yes.” Robby smiled. “Lizzie is my goddaughter.”

“How could I forget?” Jack rolled his eyes. “And I know you’re making fun of me but joke all you want - I learned my lesson last year.”

“You’re currently asking me whether you should tell your wife about something you deliberately didn’t tell her.”

Jack stared at him. “That’s different.”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“I’m going to tell her beforehand.”

“Okay.”

Jack took a bite of his pancakes. “It’s gonna be the perfect Christmas this year.”

“Mhm.”

“Really” Jack added, a little quieter.

“Repeat it a couple of times more and you’ve got me convinced” Robby muttered into his mug.

--- --- ---

You wanna keep reading? - Next part is coming soon, I promise.

--- --- ---

Tag list: @itjustpunkpizzabae, @theariesview @michasia24 @bye-bye-gremlings @tyghvbuijknmopkl @momdancingtomcr @alexxavicry @rainforestfrogss @starkgaryan @moistointments @rossy1080 @abzidabzy @weepingwhispersengineer @cherryybombsworld @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @romanticpursuit @nicelittletriptotheforest @teenytinylilcrawdaddies @camie18 @thewillowarchive @fortjackson @eugene-emt-roe @nicksolemnlyswears @sarah-fuckyou @beepitybeepboop @amnatreal @goldfishenthusiast67 @karleyyyjaeee @starsmoonn @doesanyonereadthis @introvertedphilomath @noellealexisss @sweetwanderlust05 @eugene-emt-roe @lovehadlovelost @amacphet @asparklysoul @shinyskeletonsky @givemethemaknaes16 @artemis-the-ace @marvelsimps @anyasthoughts @amacphet @mukeovernetflix @doe-jenna @prettyflowerlily @emma8895eb

[damalseer]

🤦🏽‍♀️

[vampireapologist-archive-deacti]

ppl are so annoying “you can’t paint ur bedroom pink you’re an adult” i did not spend my entire life waiting to grow up and control my life to paint my bedroom beige

[hojolove]

I had a sales woman in furniture store try and tell me not to buy a hot bubblegum pink loveseat because she wanted me to “think about the future”

Bitch, I am thinking about the future. I already got a hot bubblegum pink couch at home and now I need a loveseat to go with it.

[madgastronomer]

when I first bought my house, I announced my decision to paint my bedroom purple. I had wanted a purple bedroom for thirty damn years, you fucking bet I was gonna have one now. My friends decided, for some reason, that I meant what one of them referred to as “14 year old girl purple” (through what’s wrong with the colors a 14 year old girl chooses, I don’t know, even if they’re not what I want as an adult). They didn’t believe me until they saw the color on the actual wall, even thought they helped me pick out paints. My mother, meanwhile, decided to get worried that if I painted my bedroom a “dark purple”, it would be “depressing”. As if, with an entire house to live in, I would spend all my time in the bedroom, which I wanted to be dark because I would be sleeping in there. In the damn dark.

I had like one, maybe two friends who were all like FUCK YEAH YOU PAINT IT WHATEVER COLOR YOU WANT, PURPLE BEDROOMS ARE AWESOME.

But when they actualy saw the finished bedroom, every single one of them was like, “Oh yeah, that’s really pretty.” (Well, the ones who supported me from the beginning were more like WOOHOO.)

And the moral of the story is: Fuck ‘em, please yourself. Either they’ll come around, or you can safely ignore every question of taste they opine about for the rest of time.

[themintycupcake]

This applies to other adulting activities, too. When I was a kid, I decided that I wanted to have a wedding cake made of doughnuts. When I got older, I figured that I would be “mature” about it and get a traditional cake, which the older adults approved of. Now that I’m 25 and facing the possibility of actual marriage in the near future, I’m just like “marriage is a social construct but it comes with tax & insurance benefits, so just give me that goddamn doughnut cake.” If they don’t like it then they don’t have to come to my wedding.

[aridotdash]

https://xkcd.com/150/

[undanewneon]

I would like you all to view my office. I’m thirty and my rainbow room is awesome, people can fight me

[spuffybot]

I’m thirty and my first big furniture purchase was a custom coffin shaped coffee table that opens up and is lined with purple crushed velvet. I would have loved it at 13 and I love it now. Growing up doesn’t mean you have to abandon what makes you happy.

[idareu2bme]

GROWING UP DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.

[the-haiku-bot]

GROWING UP DOESN’T

MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON

WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[shadesofmauve]

I have told this story before, and I will tell it again, because I am An Old now and repeating stories forever is our prerogative:

When I bought my house, the kitchen was multiple shades of dingy white. It was dismal, but it was now mine! So went to the hardware store for paint (well, several trips, painted swatches on panel, etc — I’m very picky. But this was the final, ‘real’ trip). It was a busy day in the paint section. There were at least five people behind me in line.

Now, remember, latex paint is slightly lighter and brighter when wet than it is when dry. And I’d decided to paint my kitchen candy-apple red. The hardware store employee took my gallon off the Paint Jiggler and cracked it open to put a dab on the top, revealing the most incredibly deep pink, and behind me I hear the entire line of people say,

“Oh my god.”

…in perfect chorus.

I did not realize up until that moment that shocking a crowd of strangers with my paint color choices was a life goal, but at that moment I felt an absolutely overwhelming sense of achievement.

[marlynnofmany]

This is the door to my garage. It used to be white. Live your best life.

Mischief the cat says “Who goes there?”

Every visiting friend says “This is so cool.”

If you’re looking for an excuse to do some decorating that will make your soul sing, this entire thread is your sign to do it and don’t look back!

[the-haiku-bot]

This is the door to

my garage. It used to be

white. Live your best life.

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[chennnington]

I’m 35. I have been told my place looks like maybe a LP fan lives there.

Not sure what they mean.

[dykepuffs]

When I first moved into my place, I painted the spare room, that eventually became my office, lime green, the kind of lime green that glows down the corridor when I open the door - The colour was only available as an “accent colour” in the section of paints intended for children’s playrooms, and in the shop I got a lot of “Oh your son will love this!” And from people I knew I got a lot of “Oh well, you’re 21 now, you’re basically a teenager, this is a terrible idea, you’ll hate it and need to pull out all the furniture to repaint it.” And I have to report that I am now in my forties and my office still looks like this, and it makes me smile every time I see it.

[marzipanandminutiae]

this is such a modern idea, too

not decorating trends; those have always existed. but the idea that color and decoration is inherently childish

this is the dining room at the Eustis Estate in Milton, Massachusetts, from 1878 (where I used to work, briefly). the walls are TEXTURED MICA SHIMMER on a green background. Adult Space For Adults!

A jewelry shop in Paris c. 1901. kids can’t buy jewelry!

who can forget the classic 1950s colorful bathroom? I’m not a huge fan, but still! adult space! bright colors; decorative designs!

meanwhile “you’re immature if you like Art Nouveau” is a hot take I’ve really, seriously seen on this webbed site (only once, thank the gods). I don’t know who started this, but I’m going to kill them

[taraljc]

I think a lot of it stems from the ubiquitous Waterhouse prints that were sold on college campuses for 20 years. like why would I get a free pass if it were Monet instead Western culture is stupid. The entire point of being an adult is breakfast for dinner and cake for breakfast and dying with the most toys.

[catgirlralsei]

instantly decided to reblog when i got to GROWING UP DOESN’T MEAN YOU HAVE TO ABANDON WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.

[beatrice-otter]

The examples of decorated homes above are both either modern or upper class, which makes it easy to dismiss because “sure the rich people have beautiful homes” and “sure, modern middle-class people have lots of color in their homes.”

So here’s two examples of traditional Norwegian farmhouse interiors. You know. The kinds of places peasants live in.

This type of painting is called “rosemaling” and today you usually find it on, like, carved wooden bowls and such that are only used for decoration. But back two centuries ago, it was very common to find the interiors of homes covered in it, in projects that were painted little by little over the decades. Because it’s beautiful to look at, paint is the cheapest way of decorating your house, and what else are you going to do on the long winter nights when it’s too dark and cold to work outdoors?

But mostly, they did it because it made them happy, and it was beautiful.

Those old peasants were on to something, I think.

[destinationtoast]

I painted rooms in my house these colors and some people had doubts:

I have been SO HAPPY.

[vaspider]

My wife painted the walls of my studio ORANGE. Glorious sunset orange.

I have always wanted a room that was an amazing color and this one is mine.

[asteroidtroglodyte]

The Kim Karsashian Cult of Beige is a stain on civilization and I cannot believe I have to fucking live through it swear to gos WE’RE APES OUR ENCLOSURES NEED ENRICHMENT FFS

[discolor3d]

The person I reblogged this from deserves to be happy.

[vincent-van-gtg]

[fitnessdesire]

Can’t risk it

[laderdesders1]

The duck of creativity. I waited so long for it.

[luckyferrero-deactivated2020081]

i’m desperate huhu

[fandomchick80]

Please give me some inspiration oh great duck of creativity

[ofstarsandvibranium]

As soon as Tom steps into the building, Patricia is at his side, “There’s a very attractive woman in your office and I don’t know how to speak to her.”

Tom stops in his tracks and looks at his employee, “Wait what?”

“Her beauty is leaving me speechless. She’s talking to Ruth and I want to join the conversation but I don’t-“

He waves off Patricia’s rambling, “What’s the woman’s name?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know. I can’t find the courage to ask. But she said she’s here for you.”

Tom sighs and walks further down the hall to his office. He sees Ruth standing there talking to a woman. He knocks on his door, “Hello?”

Ruth and the woman turn to Tom and Tom’s heart stops. It’s you.

Your name leaves his lips in shock and you giggle, “Sorry to just show up like this, but I wanted to thank you again for helping me out yesterday, so here!” You hold out a paper bag from The Salty Whale, “Nothing much. Just a slice of pie.”

“Oh wow. Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. It’s my duty as mayor to be there for the people in Widow’s Bay, tourists and locals.”

You shrug, “Well you’re doing a great job. I’ll let you get to your mayoral duties,” you softly smile at him and then look at Patricia, “I really like your cardigan by the way!”

Patricia is taken by surprise, “Oh! Thank you! I really like your…everything,” her hands gesture to your full body and you light up.

“Thank you!” You then turn to Ruth, “It was lovely meeting you, Ruth!” You give the older woman a wave and see yourself out of the office.

Ruth, Patricia, and Tom are left staring after you as you make your way down the hall and eventually exit the building.

Ruth hums, “She’s a very lovely girl.”

“Yeah…really lovely,” Tom mumbles in agreement, a touch of a smile on his lips.

[damalseer]

Idk what’s going on but I love it!

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Okay why is sunshine sad?

"Oracle," Jason murmured into his phone, "Look into something for me?"

"Sure, I'll just put all B's shit on hold-"

"I need to know if Y/N's sister is still in rehab."

The clicking on the other end of the phone pauses, and she exhales sharply, "Alright. I'll get on it. Text you."

"Thanks." He hung up the phone and picked up his tablet, pulling up the website to find your damn bear, grateful that you didn't go for sounds in them.

You looked wrecked coming in. Exhausted. Work didn't do that. Your job was frustrating, but not- you liked it. The ebb and flow of it. Structure. Predictability.

Something hard as fuck to have when you're the family scapegoat and your sister takes up all the extra space in the room.

Pieces trickle in and Jason isn't sure how to put all of them together yet. But the brittle, too bright smile you gave him. Trying to shove what you really wanted out of the way. He didn't even know if you wanted to be buying a new bear, but. It was better than nothing. Better than letting you just be... sad.

You sad didn't sit right. You should be bouncing through the door and exploding with about 40 new pieces of stupid word gossip to update him on.

Not this. This just fucking sucked.

[damalseer]

🥺

Not my scenario but my feels

[harveywritings92]

[R/n walks in on Ghost hiding in a closet eating sugar cookies.]

R/n: What's going on here?

Ghost: *hands her $50*

Ghost: What did you see?

R/n: I saw you in your office eating an apple.

Ghost: Good girl. *closes the closet door and locks it*

[damalseer]

🤣🤣

[apfelkernchen]

Interlude: Your husband is very well connected within the PTMC

Dr. Jack Abbot x (female) reader | Dr. Jack Abbot x you

Summary: News that changes everything - and one exhausted husband who needs a minute to catch up.

A/N: I'm no longer updating the taglist because Tumblr has been glitching way too much lately. If you don't want to miss any updates, feel free to turn on notifications for my posts! <3

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (1)

Link to "You stole my cart" master list (2)

Previous chapter: Part 135: So, let's drop the charade, okay?

--- --- ---

You were sitting at the kitchen table, the remains of lunch with Lizzie lunch still scattered around you but you were actually too lazy to clean it up right now. You still had the whole afternoon - or at least another hour before Lizzie would wake up from her nap, demanding some fun activities. You had actually planned to go to the shopping center with her, so she could see the pretty Christmas decorations they had put up and maybe see the Santa Claus the store had hired. A picture of the two of them would be the cutest - and maybe a good Christmas gift for Jack.

You were nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through your phone when it buzzed with an incoming email.

You could only read the subject line - and your stomach dropped:

Regarding Your Application - Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the rejection that was almost inevitable hiding behind that line. You already felt disappointment creeping in - you had thought you had done really, really well in the interview with the director of Facilities and Campus Planning. You had also learned that you went to the same university, just a couple of years later than him. It had felt less like an interview and more like a chat with a new friend.

It had been too good to be true.

You almost deleted it without reading it - but you knew you would regret it. Maybe they had included an explanation, something you could do better next time.

So you opened the email.

Dear Mrs. Abbot We’re pleased to offer you the position of Facilities and Campus Planning Coordinator, starting on January 1st…

Your hand flew to your mouth and you let out a scream. Not even a muffled one. A loud, surprised scream that was probably heard by your neighbors. You didn’t care one bit. You jumped off your chair and threw both arms into the air like some sort of victory pose. You probably looked ridiculous but it just felt so damn right.

“Fuck, yes, yes, yes!” You started giggling uncontrollably while you read the email again. “Fuck.”

You bit your lip, trying to compose yourself - and failed tremendously. You looked around - and nearly jumped when you saw Jack’s disheveled figure in the doorframe, holding on his crutches. A rare sight - he usually took the time to strap on his prosthetic leg before getting up. He leaned against the doorframe and ran a hand through his hair, trying to balance. “Babe, you alright?”

“YES!” Another giggle.

“I heard you scream” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “I thought maybe something happened.”

“No.” You giggled again, then crossed the room and pulled your arms around him. “I got it!”

“You got what?” he replied, one arm slung around your waist while he kept the other hand on one of his crutches to help him balance.

“THE JOB!”

Jack blinked. His tiredness was instantly forgotten. “What?”

“I GOT THE JOB!”

His face changed immediately. A wide grin spread across his face. “You did?”

You nodded so hard your ponytail bounced. “Yes, I did.”

“Oh, baby.” He hugged you tightly. “That’s amazing! I knew you would.”

“I can’t believe it” you whispered against his shoulder, smiling so hard it almost hurt. 

“I can.” He kissed your temple. “Because you’re amazing and talented and you deserve this. And hey - now my wife is also working at the Pitt.”

You laughed. “Well, at least at the PTMC.”

“You’ll be in the department three mornings a week. We could have coffee together, catch up for a couple of minutes.” He smiled, pressing his cheek against your hair. “That’ll be a lovely end to my night shifts.”

“Um.” You pulled away slightly. “Not exactly.”

Jack blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I know I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to jinx anything but… they offered me a different position.”

“A clerk position in a different department?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“No.”

“Babe, help me out, I’m exhausted and confused and this doesn’t make any sense to me.” You could hear that he was trying to be patient.

“I’ll be the new Facilities and Campus Planning Coordinator” you replied giddily, already giggling again.

“You are what now?”

“The HR woman thought I wasn’t the perfect fit for the ward-clerk position and they happened to have that opening in Facilities and Campus Planning. So she forwarded my resume after the interview and well… I got it.”

Jack’s eyebrows slowly rose as his brain caught up. “Wait. That sounds a lot like some kind of urban planning job?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“In a hospital?” He paused briefly. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, they’re apparently planning a new outpatient building and several renovation projects.”

Jack stared at you. “Honey, that’s-” He paused again. “That’s your actual field.”

You nodded, lips pressed together to hide another excited giggle. Jack pulled you flush against him again. “Oh my God, honey, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You couldn’t hide it anymore. You snuggled yourself closer to him, giggling helplessly against his shoulder. “Thanks.”

“When do you start?”

“January first” you whispered. There was no need to whisper - just the superstition that the happy little bubble was about to burst if you said it out loud.

You could feel Jack shift. “The hospital is making you work on New Year’s Day?”

“No, silly.” You huffed a laugh. “You really have no clue about working outside of the emergency department, huh? That’s just the official start date. The date on the contract. My first actual day is January second.”

He nodded slowly. “Good. I was already preparing a strongly worded email.”

“To whom exactly?” You looked up, amused.

“I don’t know? HR? Your boss? Whoever that is I’d have found out - I’ve got connections, you know?” He puffed his chest. “Your husband is very well connected within the PTMC.”

“Okay, good to know, Mr. Mafia Boss” you replied dryly. “But please don’t contact my new employer.”

You squealed giddily. You actually had a new employer. After more than two years of unemployment you finally had a job again.

“Our employer, babe” Jack replied, then pulled slightly back. “Can’t wait to show you off to everyone at the annual summer party.”

You blinked. “You never go to the PTMC’s summer parties. You told me just a couple of months ago that you thought they were stupid and that you’d rather lose another leg than let your employer make you spend time with coworkers in your spare time.”

Jack lifted his hand from your hip and ran it through his hair. “That was in the past. You know that there are no plus-ones allowed at these events.”

“Yeah…?”

“Now you’re an employee too, we can go together. And I can show you off to everyone. And then we can have a slightly inappropriate but very hot make out session in one of the elevators at two in the morning.”

You started laughing. “Okay, that escalated very quickly. Let me start my job first, huh, before I do something that could possibly get me fired.”

He huffed. “Well, okay.”

“And you’re going back to bed now. Go get some more sleep. Tonight… we’re going out. Celebrating.”

Jack pulled you closer again, pressing another kiss to your hair. “Deal.” Another kiss followed. “I’m so fucking proud of you, kiddo. So fucking proud.”

--- --- ---

You wanna keep reading? - Next part is coming soon, I promise.

--- --- ---

Tag list: @itjustpunkpizzabae, @theariesview @michasia24 @bye-bye-gremlings @tyghvbuijknmopkl @momdancingtomcr @alexxavicry @rainforestfrogss @starkgaryan @moistointments @rossy1080 @abzidabzy @weepingwhispersengineer @cherryybombsworld @woodxtock @letstryagaintomorrow @romanticpursuit @nicelittletriptotheforest @teenytinylilcrawdaddies @camie18 @thewillowarchive @fortjackson @eugene-emt-roe @nicksolemnlyswears @sarah-fuckyou @beepitybeepboop @amnatreal @goldfishenthusiast67 @karleyyyjaeee @starsmoonn @doesanyonereadthis @introvertedphilomath @noellealexisss @sweetwanderlust05 @eugene-emt-roe @lovehadlovelost @amacphet @asparklysoul @shinyskeletonsky @givemethemaknaes16 @artemis-the-ace @marvelsimps @anyasthoughts @amacphet @mukeovernetflix @doe-jenna @prettyflowerlily @emma8895eb

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

if i wrote a romance with the rogues gallery who would you was to see

Riddler

Killer Croc

Two face

a secret 4th answer in the tags

Voting ended onJul 18

My husband wants to know... he is a sadist