I am a normal person who understands thought crimes are not real, fiction is not reality, and people can read/write/enjoy whatever they want as long as it’s fiction and no one in real life is harmed. I don’t have to like it, because I know how to mute, block and scroll past what I don’t want to see. Overall I think labels are childish, but by definition I am proship and profic. I am also against censorship.
And if you (general you) shame or harass real people over fiction, you’re a bully and this blog is not a safe place for you.
Generally unless they are sleeping or a baby sorry I’m at lady Gaga and on shrooms right now get if you have concerns call your local health department
does machete ever hit his big ass ears on doorframes? both him and his ears are noticeably taller than average.
Hmm, I don't know, I have hard time imagining that happening. It'd have to be an unusually low doorway, he's on the taller side but not outlandishly so.
He's very nearsighted and has astigmatism, so there's always a risk that some kind of unexpected environmental obstacle could potentially catch him off guard, but I'm mainly thinking of uneven floors or thresholds and similar tripping hazards.
But then again he compensates that with perpetual hypervigilance and deep-seated wariness, so if there's something askew he's likely to notice it. He moves in familiar spaces with a lot more confidence than in new ones. He's also very specific about people not rearranging things in his office and in his personal living quarters.
If anything, it's probably Vasco who ends up banging himself on doorframes and furniture on occasion. He's just as tall, but he also has more open and relaxed body language, with more lively and unrestrained gestures. He isn't clumsy, and he can move with great grace and finesse if he wants to, but he isn't afraid of taking up space either. He also has a long, powerful and emotive tail, as well as those big ass ears that aren't entirely in his control and that he needs to stay mindful of.
Immso sorry but you dont support proship or rape fics right?? Cause those asks are scaring me
I do support them actually. because it’s fiction and it’s fun. I have been writing and reading fanfiction about my favorite fictional characters getting raped for years now and it’s never a secret lmao. I’ve always been open about it.
my blog is a safe place for freaks, but it’s not a safe place for puritans.
hi syd, would you perhaps consider writing a Jack abbot x reader about 2x07 episode? 🥺
welllll if you twist my arm.... dr abbot x f!ortho!reader
wc: 1.3k
content: 18+ mdni, suggestive themes, canon events from 2x07, hurt/comfort, anxious!reader, meddling from robby, minor angst
Your irritation was insurmountable when you overheard that Jack had come in the ER with the SWAT team that afternoon.
"Should I… go find Abbot for you?" Robby asked, probably clued in to your agitation from the way you were grinding your jaw, "I'm sure he'd want to know you're down here."
As an ortho resident, you were down in the ER frequently. Due to your relationship with Jack, actually, you were one of the few ortho consults the ER could reliably get ahold of without having to wait hours upon hours.
"No," you said sharply, "I might cause a scene if I see him right now so it's better he not know I'm here."
Robby huffed a laugh through his nose, "Trouble in paradise?"
You sighed and looked up from your chart, "Look, I know he's your buddy so you'll just take his side—"
Robby feigned outrage as he leaned over the hub on his forearms, "I can be objective."
You rolled your eyes, "Today was supposed to be his day off. We've had many conversations about how working with SWAT puts him in unnecessarily dangerous situations, but no matter what I say to him he won't stop doing these stings with them and get a real hobby."
Robby smirked knowingly, "Trying to tell Jack Abbot what to do isn't going well for you? Shocking."
You glared at him, "Thought you said you could be objective."
He winced, "Sorry, can't undo decades of biases overnight. I'll tell you what though, Jack's been the most himself with you than I've seen since he was with his wife. He loves you. Be patient with him, I'm sure he'll stop self destructing soon."
You massaged your temples, "Yeah, sure, whatever. In the meantime I'll just stay in fight or flight while he gets shot at for fun."
Robby tilted his head and rolled his eyes slightly, his way of saying he thought you were being dramatic and then jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "Your next consult is in North 15."
You scoffed, "Another one? Now you're just taking advantage of me."
He shrugged, "Complain to your attending for me, please. Maybe they'll finally start answering our pages."
Sighing, you walked off towards North 15, keeping an eye out for Jack as you went. But there was no sign of him. You were both disappointed and relieved. Despite your aggravation, you wanted to make sure he was alright.
You were still lost in thought when you pulled the curtain back on North 15— And came face to face with your shirtless boyfriend.
"Oh—I—Isn't there a patient here?"
Jack looked at you stoically, "No. Bed was empty."
You stared at him, open mouthed, "Robby said—" And then, you put the pieces together. Robby knew there was no patient in here, he had sent you to Abbot on purpose. Fucker.
A smile twitched on Jack's face, "Why would Robby have to trick you into coming to see me?"
He sat on the edge of the bed, biceps flexing unfairly as he squeezed some ointment out on the tray in front of him.
"Because I'm mad at you," You said, tearing your eyes away from his arms and chest.
"Why're you mad at me?"
"You know why."
With a q-tip smothered in ointment, Jack tried to reach behind him to the wound on his back. You watched him struggle for a moment before sighing and pulling the curtain back around the two of you.
"What're you doing?" He asked as you grabbed a pair of gloves.
"Helping." You said, opening your hand for the q-tip.
He stared at you stubbornly for a moment before offering it to you, "Why're you helping if you're mad at me?"
"Just because I'm mad at you doesn't mean I want you to suffer." You dabbed the q-tip along the wound, "What happened?"
"Bullet grazed my vest."
You wished you could be the nonchalant, cool girlfriend. The one who probably thought Jack doing this on his time off was badass and sexy. But you didn't find danger alluring. You'd always been careful and your time in ortho had shown you more than enough permanent injury caused by stupidity and recklessness.
"Is that why you're here?"
"No," he said, "buddy of mine got shot in the neck. We brought him here."
You swallowed and backed away once you'd finished with his wound, "Is he gonna make it?"
"Yeah, I was able to intubate in the field," Jack watched your every movement, assessing, "Garcia took him up to surgery."
You nodded, "That could've been you who was shot in the neck. And there would've been nobody around to intubate you."
He sighed, "Could've been, but it wasn't." He tilted his head slightly as he looked at you, "You're cute when you're worried."
"It's not a joke," You snapped.
"I know," He reached for your waist, and despite yourself, you allowed him to pull you to him so you were bracketed by his arms, "I'm sorry, I love you."
You tried to keep the stubborness in your eyes, but your hands betrayed you, reaching to run over his arms and chest, "Hard to stay mad at you when you're shirtless."
He smiled, "You like what you see?"
You rolled your eyes, "Don't get cocky."
With the drapes and door closed, Jack pulled you up into his lap so you straddled him, "But that's the first nice thing you've said to me all day." He pulled you down enough so his mouth could reach your neck, trailing sloppy, wet kisses up every inch of skin he could get, "And I've had a really hard day, as you can imagine, having to intubate someone while being shot at."
You sighed, both in annoyance and pleasure, "I'm not sympathetic to your cause…considering I asked you not to go."
"And I should've listened," He was still kissing you, even had the audacity to pull your hips down to grind against his crotch, "I'm sorry, honey, can you forgive me? Please?"
You pulled your face forward so you could kiss his neck, sucking and licking down to his shoulder. Jack hummed appreciatively as you moved your hips against him— "Ow!" You pulled back when he shouted, a smirk on your face.
"Did you just bite my arm?"
Still smiling, you pulled yourself off his lap, "Yes, turns out I'm still angry. Had to get my aggression out somehow."
He laughed and shook his head, "Brat."
"You'll make it up to me later? At home?"
"Not like I have much of a choice."
"No, you do not." You picked up your iPad and began backing out of the room, "Don't page me if you need a consult. Love you."
As you left Abbot in the room you walked past Robby and stopped him, "Next time you pull that shit, I'll ignore my page. You can kiss your in with ortho goodbye."
"Oh, come on, I was helping!"
"Mind your business next time, Robinavitch!" You called over your shoulder as you headed to the elevator.
Robby turned as Jack came out of North 15, shirt back on and looking sullen. "You in the doghouse?" Robby asked.
Jack shook his head and then smirked, "She's not really angry, just scared. She'll be fine once I—" Jack caught himself, about to admit to his friend that he planned on fucking the anger out of you later, and shook his head again instead, "She's fine. We're good. But you need to stop meddling or we'll lose our ortho privileges."
Robby sighed, "I thought I was helping."
"Yeah, well, next time maybe consult with me first before you stick your nose in our business."
Robby raised his hands in surrender, "Alright, fine, heard."
With Robby gone, Jack pulled out his phone to text you, You know, I think the biting actually unlocked something in me. Can we try that again later?
Smirking to himself, he pocketed his phone and began walking to the hub, pleasantly surprised when his phone went off. His grin only widened when he read the text there from you: Sure, but only if your bicep is wrapped around my throat while we do it.
Oh, he needed your shift to be over expeditiously.
