[florencebirdsong]

Always horny 20-year-old Victoria x tired old woman Cassie letting Victoria use her however she wants as long as Cassie doesn’t have to do the work.

[redactedbat]

People freaking out about Shabana’s reaction to Mcvadi is so funny, none of y’all have been in the trenches before

[redactedbat]

I hope everyone knows I will be getting Rhaenicent pilled in the next week, this is non-negotiable

[maxanor]

SEPIDEH MOAFI as DR. BARAN AL-HASHIMI THE PITT | Season 2, Episode 15, "9:00 P.M."

[ny-ji]

let’s say you don’t want to hear about sexism, racism, discrimination … then can you tell me how the pitt’s production choices are narratively relevant ? and i mean something other than playing the "it’s realistic" card

let’s make sure we’re on the same page. we agree that the pitt set out to critique the usa healthcare system, one that’s plainly poisoned by structural discrimination, and to explore the mental health of the ER medical staff, right ?

so… how was it narratively relevant to erase samira mohan, a south asian woman whose entire character arc is built on medical racism and a conflicted relationship with her boss (a white man) while she's still a resident ? especially when they could've used that space to actually make robby confront his own biases, and to show that being in mental distress is not an excuse for abusive behavior toward a subordinate, and therefore actually say something meaningful about both discrimination and mental health.

how is it narratively relevant to bring in someone as rich a character as baran al‑hashimi, an attending of iranian/iraqi origin, who knows samira, who’s done humanitarian work in WAR ZONES, who has a completely different vision and approach from robby, only for her arc to end with "robby was right to doubt her and to be on her case all day" ? and don’t tell me he said a couple times that she had good calls, that means literally nothing compared to everything they could’ve explored with her, and didn’t, because apparently we needed more shots of robby’s motorcycle and the same speech 3 times about why he’s not doing well. where’s the critique ? where’s the critique of systemic sexism and racism that makes people so quick to disqualify a woman like her ? where’s her golden narrative role, the one that should’ve been about confronting robby with his own way of doing things, his issues, and his biases ? tossed in the "realism" trash can i guess.

how is it even narratively relevant to sideline the characters who are literally the ones raising the question of mental health, you know, the core theme of the show ? because let’s stop being delulu for a second : samira, the R4 who should’ve been fully present, was shamefully erased, so javadi, the M4 on a psych rotation… barely gets any screen time, guaranteed on the invoice. so again: how is this a meaningful angle to explore the theme through ? and then there’s dr. jefferson, who should’ve been way more central in S2 given robby’s behavior, and who ends up being there just to say generic lines. what was the plan ? what were the supposed narrative genius reasons for using the character so little ?

what was the narrative point of having whitaker act like an R3/R4 when he’s been an R1 for, what, 3 minutes ? what was the purpose of giving him that much screen time if he ends up with zero narrative development ? what was the plan behind showing robby feeling bad about langdon but not giving a damn about samira, to the point of letting her apologize when he’s the one who was out of line ? what was the narrative relevance of having robby be the one to call out the paramedic team during the cardiac arrest instead of the women in the room, who somehow didn’t seem to notice things were off ? what was the genius idea behind showing dana trying to focus on her own mental health only to end up falling back into her default "i need to worry about robby" mode ? how exactly is it "brilliant writing" to sideline the characters who would’ve had the most interesting dynamics with robby and the most interesting discourse they could’ve brought to the story ?

sorry to break it to you, but there’s no brilliant narrative reasoning behind any of this, and i wanted to believe it. but it’s just writing that’s biased by structural discrimination, and that, in its attempt to "do the right thing" ends up doing the exact opposite in a paternalistic way, without giving any credit to the critiques raised on these issues.

showing discriminatory behavior ≠ criticizing discriminatory behavior.

the pitt messed up on these things, and it’s about time people started admitting it.

[redactedbat]

(cw: fauxcest) but it’s before Mcvadi are actually together. It’s starts somewhat innocently. Over Cassie’s shoulder Victoria sees Dr. Shamsi come down for a consult and immediately pulls Cassie into a hug, knowing damn well neither her nor her mother remember the last time they embraced, and god the rush she gets when Shamsi loudly clears her throat to break them up, and Cassie smiles politely, showing her teeth, not backing down.

From there it only spirals. Every argument ends with Vic storming out— I’m going to Cassie’s, Mom — wearing the tightest clothes she owns. Crying in Mckay’s arms whispering I wish you were my mom :( against her throat, just to see flex of her jaw, feel her hands tighten around her waist, her thighs, as she chokes out me too, kid.

Shamsi’s not stupid, obviously. She knows something’s going on but she doesn’t know what. Everyone just keeps saying how lucky Victoria is to have a mentor like Dr. Mckay, how good she is teaching, at listening, probably because she’s a mom, they say.

[redrageoused]

age gap yuriiii happy pride everyone :)))

prints :)

[redactedbat]

Reverse corruption kink where Cassie’s spent years keeping her impulsivity and anger under lock and key, she’s better now, she’s good. Until Victoria. Victoria who pouts and mouths off and bats her eyelashes to get what she wants. And Cassie tries, she’s respectful, she keeps the bad parts away because she’s good goddamnit.

Meanwhile Vic knows exactly what’s beneath the surface and is so so desperate for it. Says you’re such a perv, Cass just to watch her cheeks colour in equal parts shame and arousal, sends her photos in just her jacket and panties with miss you mommy :(, waits until Cassie’s strap is all the way in to whisper every fucked up thing she wants her to do to her just to watch Cassie try (and fail) not to come in her girl 😵‍💫

[sunbleachedreams]

i get so gay off that mcvadi dacryphilia

[eatsleepandsing]

another great ship dynamic is "characters who are deeply traumatized and haunted by nightmares are finally able to get a peaceful night of sleep in each other's arms"

[redactedbat]

Mcvadi x Ethel Cain is genuinely unbeatable

[crosseyedprayer]

yes i can talk about cassies kindness and empathy untill im blue in the face but can i speak on her impulsivity? her issues with authority? her anger? the deep breaths she takes to keep her composure? the force behind her calm? the tension in her fear?

[amandayoungwife]

Sepideh acknowledging barantos and hinting at Baran being autistic, Isa expressing how she wants Trinity to love Baran, oh I'm hungry

[vampiriclamb]

i need mcvadi but like cassie edges victoria for so long that vic actually starts sobbing so cassie makes it up to her by making her finish a million times and it's good the first few times but then vic starts crying again bc shes so overstimulated 😁😁😁

[redactedbat]

Making a burner to get freaked out about age gap yuri… The Pitt’s led me to places I wouldn’t go with a gun

[sunbleachedreams]

(cw: fauxcest) Mcvadi where Vic gets off on freaking people out about them. Constantly referring to their age gap, posting pics of Cassie for both Mother’s Day and Valentine’s Day, complaining loudly outside of the club for her ‘mom’ to give her a cig to draw attention then practically mounting Cassie as she shotguns the smoke. Ugh Freakvadi 4 ever

thank you anon for giving me the opportunity to perv out <3

cw: heavy fauxcest. don’t like don’t read!

victoria is reaaally sneaky about it. mother's day comes around and she asks cassie to pose with harrison, all come on, just one, please and cassie rolls her eyes but does it anyway, arm around her son, smiling brightly at the camera. victoria takes the picture, perfect, perfect, so cute! and then never posts it. instead she posts a photo taken from the passenger seat of cassie's lame mom car, cassie's hand gripping victoria's bare thigh, high up enough that you can see the edge of her underwear. happy mother's day to the woman who taught me everything <3

cassie sees it way too late, panicking about the picture somehow reaching victoria's actual mom. so she starts blowing up vic's phone: are you fucking insane? delete that now. victoria i’m not kidding, delete the picture. what are you playing at? please, vic, you can’t post stuff like that. baby, cmon. she’s sooo desperate it’s pathetic :(

victoria doesn't answer right away. she lets cassie call her, lets the phone vibrate against the table while shamsi watches her from across the room. do you need to take that?, she asks. victoria shrugs. just spam calls, mom.

later that night, victoria sends cassie a picture of herself on her knees, face cut off, just her pouty lip showing. she's in white cotton underwear, hands folded in her lap all sweet and patient. am i in trouble, mommy?

victoria likes to call cassie a perv, a creep, disgusting, when she catches her staring at work. she bends over on purpose in front of her, arching her lower back. pulls down the top of her scrubs on hot days, exposing her collarbones covered with bruises—purple fingerprints, the crescent marks of teeth, a map of where cassie's mouth has been.

she lingers too long when cassie is charting, pushing out her chest against cassie's back, whispering useless details about the case under the excuse that she's just helping. you’re kind of slow with technology, you know that, cass. might be an age thing, voice all faux-sweet and condescending.

sometimes she likes a crowd. they're at the nurses' station, cassie deep in conversation with trinity and princess, when victoria walks up and asks for help with a suture kit. can you show me again, mom? she slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, all fake embarrassment. shit, sorry—mckay. i meant mckay. she sells it real good, stumbling over the words, cheeks flushing. cassie's shoulders go rigid, knuckles white against the pen she's holding. trinity and princess exchange a pointed look, and she knows the whole ED will hear about her little slip before the end of the day.

you're so fucking pervy, i should report you to HR. what do you think they'd do if they found out, huh? you could be my mom and you behave like this. what if i told them how you like to take advantage of me? cassie's eyes dart towards the hall, their coworkers merely a few feet away, but she doesn't say a word. she takes a deep breath, turns around and walks away.

victoria watches her go, already thinking about the nearest empty room. how cassie will drag her inside, push her to her knees, and press her thighs around victoria’s head just to shut her up. you’re a sick little girl, vic. such a needy thing, can't keep your mouth shut, hmm? want everyone to know you let your mom use you like this. m' gonna fuck your face so good. after, victoria will walk out first, face flushed and shining, pussydrunk, while cassie stays inside fixing her scrubs, ashamed of falling for it again <3

you're literally robbing the cradle, victoria says once, sprawled across cassie's couch, kicking her feet up onto cassie's lap. like, statistically, you should be in jail.

cassie grabs her ankles and doesn’t take her eyes away from the tv. you're twenty-one, you’re an adult.

barely. victoria shrugs, the smile in her voice obvious. she taps her finger against her chin, pretending to think. what are you now? forty-five?

forty-three. cassie's voice is flat, detached, like she's already bored of the conversation. victoria's stomach flips; being dismissed only spurs her on.

mhm, same thing. she digs the heel of her foot against cassie's thigh, delighted by the hiss that follows. but cassie still won't take her eyes off the tv, and that won't do. you're bad at this whole mom thing, you know that? i thought you were supposed to spoil me, to take care of me.

cassie's eyes finally snap from the tv, and oh, that hit a nerve. her baby blue eyes are dark, cheeks flushed, veins popping in her neck. victoria loves the way she looks when she's mad, loves the way cassie fucks her harder after, like she's trying to prove something, like she's trying to put her in her place.

their little…games always start like this. victoria winding her up, pressing every button she knows, poking and prodding until cassie gives in. victoria is more than happy to do the chasing. she provokes, she pushes, she never waits for permission.

so she turns around and bends over the armrest of the couch, presenting herself. she looks back at cassie over her shoulder, hair falling across her face, eyes half-lidded and mean, a pout on her glossy lips. she wiggles her ass in the air, her pleated skirt riding up.

come on, mom, she says, voice syrup-sweet and cruel. you know you want to, you can't keep your hands off me. that's sick, you know that? like, actually sick. you should be ashamed of yourself.

cassie moves behind her, slow. her hands land on victoria's hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

there she is. victoria pushes back against her, grinding her ass against cassie's crotch. you love it when i talk like this, don't you? when i remind you how wrong this is, how young i am, how you could be my mother.

cassie yanks victoria's skirt up, bunches it around her waist. her underwear is already soaked through, a dark patch spreading across the lilac cotton. cassie hooks her fingers into the waistband and pulls them down just past her thighs, exposing her completely.

say it, victoria presses, already breathless as pushes her hips back, desperate for contact, rubbing herself on cassie’s belt buckle. say you're a freak who fucks her daughter. say it, mommy. i want to hear you.

cassie doesn't say it. she runs her fingers through victoria’s slick, gathers it, and shoves two fingers inside her in one rough motion. no warning, none of the gentleness she showed her during their first times together.

it hurts, a sweet, welcome burn, and victoria's next taunt dies in her throat. she jerks her hips forward, then back, grinding against cassie's palm. cassie wraps her free arm around victoria's waist and holds her still, forcing her to take it at her pace.

oh my god, victoria sobs, fingers clawing at the armrest. oh my god, mom—mommy, her forehead drops to the cushions, mouth falling open. a string of spit connects her lips to the fabric.

fuck, she manages, hips pushing back against cassie’s tight grip. fucking—yeah, show me what a sick fuck you are. you like being inside your daughter?

cassie sets a punishing pace, her palm hitting victoria’s clit with every thrust. she uses her hips to guide her movements as her fingers piston in and out, curled just right to make her brain go fuzzy, fucked stupid. her free hand comes up to victoria's neck, pressing her face down into the couch, grinding her cheek into the drool-soaked fabric.

victoria’s eyes are half-closed, tears gathering at the corners, words slurring into nonsense. old enough to be my—fuck—my mother and you're—ah, ah, ah—

cassie doesn’t let her finish, delivers a hard slap against her ass and victoria's whole body jerks.

you like that? cassie asks, voice low and rough. you like being treated like this?

yesyesyes, fuck, mom—

call me that again, baby.

mom, victoria whines, barely coherent. mommy, please, need you, only—only you. need my mom.

cassie adds a third finger, stretching her open. victoria sobs into the cushion, pressing her face into it for comfort, her whole body shaking. she is so wet it's obscene, soaking cassie’s fingers, dripping down her wrist, making a mess of the couch.

please, victoria chokes out, not even sure what she's begging for. please, please, please.

you're so wet, cassie says, borderline mocking. this gets you off? being a fucktoy for your mom? being treated like a thing?

victoria's eyes roll back, drool pooling beneath her cheek, tongue lolling out. she's lost the ability to form real words, just broken sounds, whimpers, the occasional high-pitched keen.

you always talk so much, cassie says, definitely mocking, pumping her fingers in and out. go on, talk back. all that mouth and look at you now, can't even think.

victoria wants to say something, wants to take the upper hand, wants to bite back, but cassie hits that spot inside her and her brain short-circuits. her jaw goes slack, hiccuped moans spilling out in tandem with cassie's thrusts.

that's what i thought, cassie’s voice meaner that victoria’s ever heard her. you throw a fit cause you want your mom to fuck it out of you, don’t you?

cassie drapes herself over victoria's back, pinning her down until she can barely breathe between the weight and the couch pressing against her face. she snaps her hips forward, the rough texture of her jeans slapping against naked skin. cassie grunts against her neck, teeth grazing the back of it before biting down, catching her prey. victoria wails, tears spilling freely, and she’s so so close; hips rutting uselessly against cassie's fingers, every failed grind making her cry harder.

you're so young, cassie whispers to herself, so soft the sound of her thrusting almost drowns it out. so fucking young and you act like you're in charge.

i am— victoria swallows spit, tries again, voice hoarse. i am in charge.

cassie laughs. like actually laughs, and victoria would be offended if cassie wasn't currently knuckle-deep inside her, thumb circling her clit, turning her thoughts into a stream of cassiecassiecassie.

oh, you are? cassie's voice drops, amused. you don't sound like you're in charge. she angles her wrist and slams into her, the wet noise of it filling the room, mixing with victoria's pitiful whines and mindless babbles. i know you can hear that, baby. your pretty cunt knows mom's in charge, doesn't it?

cassie traps her clit between thumb and forefinger and pinches, tight and mean, smiling as victoria's face crumples. she comes with a strangled scream, back arching so hard she buckles cassie's weight forward. her vision whites out and she's pretty sure she stops existing for a few seconds, cunt clenching around cassie's fingers, gushing, pulsing, trying to push her out.

that's it, cassie coos, fucking her through it, not stopping, not slowing. you’re such a sick girl, aren’t you, honey? coming all over your mom’s hand. the perfect daughter, made for me to fuck.

victoria is half-delirious, babbling nonsense into the cushion. her hips jerk helplessly, chasing cassie's hand even though she can't take any more. tears streak down her face, mixing with the drool.

cassie doesn't stop until victoria goes limp beneath her, boneless and trembling, soft whimpers escaping with every exhale. only then does cassie pull her fingers out, victoria's cunt clutching at her like it doesn't want her to leave. she hastily wipes her hand on the back of victoria's thigh and steps back.

this is what it takes to shut you up?

victoria hums and nods against the cushions. slumped over the armrest, drool and tears and sweat all over her cheeks, thighs soaked with slick. but still, a satisfied smile spreads across her ruined face.

cassie kneels beside her, brushes the hair from her face. i'll run you a bath.

victoria's smile twitches. hmm. i want to eat you out.

cassie tsks, shaking her head. manners, victoria, that's not how you ask for things.

pretty please? it comes out slurred, still wrecked.

cassie narrows her eyes, and victoria suddenly feels bashful, knowing what she's waiting for. please—please, mom.

better, cassie leans down, brings her lips to victoria's ear. i raised my girl right.