#f4mily

[puppiislut]

a big brother who acts like he hates his little sister around other people but when they're alone he brutally r@pes her to remind her how much he loves her 😵‍💫🐾

[leastproblematic]

@f4mily they are best friends <3

[robinav1tch]

@f4mily | jack texted : go to bed before you confess something

[ text: jack ] what like yuo haven't heard it all before

[ text: jack ] i dont know what id have left to confess

[ text: jack ] *you

[diazlafd-archive]

👕 Blood seeps through sender's shirt from a fresh stab wound. (and if I said skeddie and it's skunk showing up at Eddie's house after a particularly nasty bar fight skunk got into what then huh what then )

with the night off eddie relaxed by making his son a nice dinner and watching a movie with him. they played some video games then chris was sent to bed, happier than he's been in a while because his father was actually home and present. don't bring him down with you, eddie. his eyes stare between the beers in his fridge and his phone that's open to his boyfriend's texts. skunk hadn't texted him back all day but he assumed he was sleeping or doing whatever the guy does whenever he's not with him. eddie's starting to get worried though and he can't move from his spot in the kitchen. he rubs between eyebrows when he gets a notification that someone is at the door. he blinks, opens the app and sees @f4mily with a blood soaked shirt coming up to his door.

the fridge door slams shut and he's already running towards the front door by the time he hears his phone shatter to the ground. he opens the door with wide, panicked eyes but he quickly goes into a work mode that he hasn't been in what feels like lifetimes. he catches him in his arms and sets him down on his door step " what the hell happened ? " his tone is stern but dripped with worry. he lifts the blood soaked shirt and grimaces at the blood, stomach uneasy at the sight. the last time he saw this much blood was when shannon was bleeding out in the middle of the road.

eddie checks skunk's pulse and his pupils, sighing heavily to himself. he takes off his own shirt to press against the wound to stop the bleeding, just moving on instinct. he needs to be stitched up though and he doesn't want to make him go to a hospital. he knows he's got the stuff to stitch him up inside, a small med bag he took with him from the station before he ran away. he hasn't had to use it yet but he knew the time would come eventually. he looks between the front door where his son is sleeping peacefully without the knowledge that one of his favorite people is bleeding out into his hands. " can you get inside without making any noise ? " he asks, probably sounding more angry than he actually is but he doesn't like this. he needs to make sure that he doesn't bleed out while also not traumatizing his child any further than he already has.

[broughtpeace]

@f4mily / [ TXT ] : screenshotting this for when you deny it happened

[ message: jack ] screenshotting what? [ message: jack ] i don't see any screenshot [ message: jack ] send me the screenshot [ message: jack ] send it to me, jck

[pittvet]

“you’re not looking your best today. what happened?” ( from caleb )

@f4mily / prompt.

He drops his head down to his arms,  bracing himself on the edge of the nurse’s station at Caleb’s approach.  For a brief moment,  Jack lives in a world where their best psychiatric bloodhound won't catch his scent and pursue it with endless patience.  But the weight of Caleb’s gaze is heavy on the side of his head.  So then Jack decides to live in a world where, in the next ten seconds before Caleb reaches him,  a patient will come through the bay doors,  and his shift will extend by necessity.  Jack should’ve known better.  

You’re not looking your best today.  What happened?  The question almost tears it out of him, that awful noise akin to a laugh, the one that had always put her on edge.  ( Say something, Jack.  Just talk to me, please.  Talk to me. )  The coppery taste of blood fills his mouth, teeth shredding the lining of his cheek in the effort of smothering that noise.  He digs his right thumb into the palm of his left hand,  again and again and again, as he forces his breathing to fit neatly into a box count.  

“Nothing happened.”  Jack lifts his head,  rapping his knuckles three times against the desktop before gesturing at the board.  “The worst we had was a MVA.  Everyone is stable.  Looking like it’s going to be the best hand-off of the week.”  Another rap of his knuckles against the desktop. 

“Think Robby would let me work a double?”

[dumbthink2]

@f4mily ... continued.

they aren't even really referring to the game or the servers, or anything that they really should care about. no, what they're referring to is their run. their poor perfect run that was working really well, this time! a personal best, even. but apparently they had found just the wrong combination of bugs and glitches this time around, and.. well. they didn't want to explode that badly.

they were never going to get another pb like that. but they could live.

"dude, i didn't even technically do anything. like, yes, i did try to access events out of order and out of bounds, but like, everyone's gonna try to do that anyways." they take a spot right on his desk, with a perfect viewing angle. "why are you not freaking out right now. shouldn't you be having a meltdown about like, how everyone will want a refund, or something?"

[seabiscuit]

@f4mily wheres my cheese the baby wants cheese