YOU ARE THE REASON
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@kaja94
Gliding my hands from his back all the way up to his shoulders.
Our hips swaying slowly in sync to whatever song he has playing.
His hands placed on my lower back, and his scent overwhelming my senses.
Our lips meeting each other so delicately.
His kisses are so warm and savoring.
Nothing else matters right now but this moment.
Our actions intertwining with each other are truly speaking louder than words. ₊˚ෆ
point of view. ⸝⸝ pope is clingy
you settled into bed with your book propped on your knees. the sheets were cool and soft. pope slid in right behind you, pressing his chest to your back and shifting until his cheek was flush against yours. his face nestled there, eyes scanning the same page you were on, breath tickling your skin. you turned the page slowly and he adjusted without a word, arms looped loosely around your middle, fingers resting still on your stomach.
the room was quiet except for the faint rustle of paper and the shared rhythm of your breathing. you kept reading, focused on the story, while his warmth seeped into you and his lashes brushed your cheek every so often when he blinked.
later at lunch you carried your plate to the table but pope was already seated, patting his thigh once. you slid onto his lap without comment, settling comfortably as his arms wrapped fully around your waist, hands clasped over your belly. he held you close, chin resting on your shoulder while you ate, fork moving steadily from plate to mouth.
his hold stayed firm but gentle, thumbs occasionally stroking small arcs over your shirt, never interrupting. you focused on each bite, chewing thoughtfully, the weight of him grounding and familiar behind you. he said nothing, just breathed evenly, content to keep you anchored there until the plate was empty.
afterward you moved to the living room for laundry. the couch was piled with clean clothes. you stood sorting and folding while pope sat on the edge of the cushion right behind you. his arms circled your body, hugging your hips, and he leaned forward until his head rested on the curve of your ass, cheek pressed softly against the fabric of your pants. you kept working, hands smoothing shirts and pairing socks with the practiced motions from you.
the ironing board was set up nearby and you shifted slightly to reach it, pressing wrinkles out of a blouse with steady sweeps of the iron. pope moved with you, arms never loosening, his head staying nestled there like it belonged, quiet and heavy in the best way. the scent of fresh laundry filled the air and the low hum of the iron was the only sound besides your occasional soft exhale.
he clung without speaking, simply holding on as you finished each piece, his presence warm and constant through every fold and press. and the whole afternoon passed like that, easy and close to you, his silent attachment making every ordinary task feel completely wrapped in him.
who wants a house tour? (count the rice bonus BTS 🍚)
Lethal face card
He looks so good!!
front and center like the leader he is iktr
oh you’re gonna have to tear me out of that cinema seat.
we used to get christmas episodes of television. halloween episodes. valentines. we used to get television that felt like part of your life. like it was happening alongside your life. now we mostly get 8 episodes dropping all at once every two years and they don't have time for any of that. i miss characters living alongside us
If this was Robby in med school Jack won't be able to win any argument with those eyes.
Jack Abbot knows that Robby was once John Carter. It was he and Adamson who helped with the name change and the move. Jack because of love and Adamson because he believed in love and because he saw a damn good doctor who was burned out and needed not a reset but a hospital he could be cherished at. From what both of them have heard through the exhausted tears is a fuck-ton of trauma and not enough support. From a stabbing that cost him the life of his med-student and gave him lifelong back pain and kidney problems and addiction to never being able to tell the first man he loved that he did indeed love him before Peter Benton—his first mentor—left Carter's life and the hospital with a son and a woman he would eventually marry, serving as his first heartbreak. And then to falling in love with Kem and losing their child in utero. And so much more. Trauma after trauma. Pain after pain.
Both Jack and Adamson are going to fix that.
This guy is too kind, too talented, too beautiful of a soul to let waste away.
Where is it that they meet him?
In Africa, of course.
Adamson had gone over with Allíance des Médecins several times over the course of his career, bringing along several residents and attendings; Jack, newly widowed and needing something that is not here, is just the latest to join him. Meeting Carter is like meeting a shell—at first. Carter had come back over because the woman he loved had said she'd be with him—but when push came to shove, she couldn't do it. Still too wrapped in her grief, Kem had ended things once and for all and Carter, brokenhearted, didn't know what to do. He threw himself into the work; it had saved him once before, hadn't it? Jack should have been no more than a rebound fuck but he wasn't. Something was there. A spark that was lacking with Kem. A connection. He felt life bloom within him again, even if it was only yet a fledgling, still learning to fly.
As July came to a close, so did Jack's and Adamson’s time in the Congo; Carter had a choice to make. Stay and continue on the same path, or go with them and forge a new life for himself.
The problem was that being John Carter would follow him everywhere. He could keep certain connections like the Carter Family Foundation—it could honestly be run by his own shadow from afar. As long as he did what was needed, signed whatever dotted lines, and kept the foundation running smoothly, no one would care if they saw his face or not. But he needed a clean break from everything else, especially his family, especially because he was entering into a relationship with a man. If they knew, he'd never have any peace again.
This could be his fresh start. A clean canvas, so to speak.
Adamson and Jack had been working at Big Charity, with Jack starting up his last year of residency and Adamson as the senior attending. They take Carter—now Michael Carter Robinavitch—back with them. It's a month of wonder for the newly renamed Mike, who took the middle name of Carter just in case. He's falling in love with not only the city but with Jack, and Adamson has become not only a mentor but a father figure to him. In the span of only a few weeks, something like hope has reignited within.
When Katrina hits, it's nothing they expect. All three, along with other hospital staff, work endlessly moving patients, records, and bodies. Saving people. Losing people. Volunteering to go out into the floods. It's hot. It's wet. It's death all around them.
And Big Charity closes.
Adamson gets offered the position of ED chief in Pittsburgh. With that, he's able to get Jack into the residency program to finish and Mike on as an attending.
Jack finishes his residency. Goes to war. Loses a leg. Comes home.
Mike becomes Robby.
Years pass. Jack and Robby get married. Covid hits. Adamson dies. Robby becomes the chief. Pittfest happens. And no one knows who Robby once was. Jack, however, often feels guilty that he tried to save Robby from a life of trauma but trauma continued to find him.
And then one day, a new Chief of Surgery is hired and it's a newly divorced Peter Benton. Robby's first mentor and his first love...even if that love was thought to be unrequited.
As much as Jack hates to admit it, there's a chance that bridging both of Robby’s lives is what will save him. He's due to flee on his sabbatical the day before the new surgery chief is to start—which is by design.
Unless Jack can stall him. Unless he can admit that Carter has a place with Peter just as much as Robby has a place with Jack.
Running was never the answer—it's still not the answer. He is both John Carter and Michael Robinavitch now, and accepting that is what will be the ultimate healing.
After all, the heart can hurt infinitely but it can love infinitely too.
Noah Wyle collage in honour of his recent Emmy nomination!
(I'll probs post a Shawn hatosy version soon)
E.R. 4x17: “A Bloody Mess”
It’s so nice to see Peter having some bonding time with his two sons.
robby is so down bad this is embarrassing
Jack Abbot’s got one hand on the steering wheel, and the other is two fingers deep in your pussy as you claw desperately at his muscly arm for support. Neon reds, greens, and yellows cast themselves across your faces as you move through the busy downtown Pittsburgh traffic on a Saturday night. If they wanted to, the drivers on the right of you could definitely see what’s going on behind the windows of Jack’s truck. He looks sooo handsome tonight in a dark, tight fitted tee with jeans and boots - black Rolex on his left wrist. You’re coming from a double dinner date with Robby and an obstetrician he’s been seeing.
Your legs are spread wide, unashamedly slick with your juices as he fucks his fingers up into you. Your hair’s falling in your face, your brows are screwed up in pleasure as you whine and whimper. Your cheeks are pink and flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Jesus, baby, you’re soakin’ the passenger seat. Fuck,” he growls.
“Oh Jack, please don’t stop! Gonna make me cum, daddy,” you sob. Your legs shake as you further drench the seat, nails digging into his arm.
“Aw there you go, fuck. Look at you, jus’ fuckin’ soaking my fingers, honey. Yeah you are,” he cooes while pumping them in and out of you, eyes glossy as he goes back and forth between your weepy cunt clenching his thick digits, and the flow of traffic in front of him. “Yeah you areee, such a good girl. Fuck me, need to get you home.” You collapse breathlessly against his bicep, clutching for dear life as you come down from your high. “I got you, there you go angel. Daddy’s got you. Daddy’s got you, always. When we get home I’m gonna take care of you proper, baby,” he whispers into your hair as he presses a tender kiss to your head.
Noah Wyle's Hands (26/?)
doctor carter & his clipboard
ER (1994) - PILOT
