Pinned
anyways i think the most important thing to note about these changes from the comics to the netflix show is that they chose to add racism to her character. they really looked at her story and went “okay but like what if we used all these racist asian stereotypes?”
After looking for this post for over a year, I finally set my eyes on it again 😭 Thank you so much @mylambandmartyr 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽
I haven't been able to stop thinking about Jack Abbot for the past few days so here we are.
Warning: Smut. 18+ Only. MDNI.
Jack Abbot is a certified yapper. Although he detests that term, he cannot deny that there's not much that will get him to shut up. Whether he's running things in a trauma case or talking your through it in bed, the man has got a mouth on him.
Jack Abbott x ER paediatrician who is sunshine personified
And apparently I went overboard and made this into a mini series
The Pitt didn’t do cheerful.
Not at 3:47 in the morning. Not after a fifteen-year-old coding on arrival, two overdoses, and a multi-car pileup that left blood in the tiles Jack Abbott just cleaned yesterday. And especially not when the nurses were triple-charting because the damn system kept crashing.
So when a too-perky voice piped up from the edge of Trauma 2 with a singsongy, “Morning, everyone!”—Jack nearly dropped the trauma shears in his hand.
She was all sunshine. Literal. Hair pulled into a messy ponytail that bounced when she walked. Bright pink scrubs, covered in little cartoon hearts. Crocs with glitter. Glitter. And a damn cup of coffee in each hand.
“Dr. Abbott, right?” she asked, breezing into his space like she didn’t see the metaphorical DO NOT ENTER sign hanging over his perpetually furrowed brow. “I’m Dr. Yn Ln. Just started in Peds ER. I brought caffeine and good vibes.”
He stared at her. So did two nurses, the med student, and the unconscious patient on the gurney—probably out of sheer secondhand embarrassment.
“Why are you here?” he asked, deadpan.
She blinked. “Because I cover trauma consults for pediatric cases now. Just thought I’d introduce myself. Be neighborly. You know. Teamwork makes the dream work?”
Someone choked on a laugh behind him.
Jack slowly reached for the cup she held out to him. It was labeled with a sticker that read “Grumpy but Hot.”
He didn’t want to smile. Absolutely not.
But he did take the coffee.
“I don’t dream,” he muttered.
She grinned like he’d made a joke. “Then I’ll do the dreaming for both of us.”
And just like that, Yn Ln turned and walked off, leaving a faint trail of vanilla behind her and a trauma bay filled with stunned silence.
“She’s going to eat you alive,” one of the nurses whispered.
Jack took a long sip of the coffee. Sweet. Frothy. With a dusting of cinnamon on top.
He hated it.
…He finished the whole thing.
Tags; @bullet-prooflove CW; alcohol mentioned and smut 18+ only. A/N; All my fics are written with plus-sized readers in mind. I will fight this imposter syndrome with smut, spite, and a vegan brownie
The timing is so his luck 😂
Pairing: John Shen x wife!doctor!Reader
AN: This is for all my Dr Shen truthers out there! Reader works in the morgue and is a doctor but I'm totally clueless about the nitty-gritty details so I left it vague. I did want to expand and write more but I was desperate to post this.
WC: 839
Warnings: Hospital inaccuracies, mentions on dead bodies and the results of Pittfest.
Synopsis: You take a much needed breather with your husband.
You were used to death. It was your job. Day in day out you saw and worked with death but today took a lot from you. The sheer amount of people who died brutally and scared for no other reason other than the selfish actions of a man.
You were drowning in the morgue, it was non stop for hours for you and your colleague, David, your turn that night after the ED and surgery had their chaos earlier that evening. There was a lull, a brief respite where you should relax back into a chair, close your eyes to relieve them from the strain and flex and rest your aching hands.
David watches you from their position across the table, they had arrived much later than you did and so you did a lot of work alone, which was something you did often enough but today was not an ordinary day.
"Take a breather" David tells you, "Fifteen-twenty minutes. Get a coffee and some fresh air."
You considered saying no but you honestly knew that you needed a break and so you nod, murmuring a 'thank you' as you push yourself up with a soft groan.
Content Warning: mushy feelings ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Robby was not prepared.
Not for the 7 a.m. shift. Not for the two back-to-back traumas that hit before his first bathroom break.
And definitely not for Y/N Williams to show up in glasses this morning.
He had been getting ready for the shift ahead, halfway through reviewing overnight notes, when the sliding doors opened.
He didn’t even look up at first—he knew that walk. Quick. Focused. A little heavier than usual.
But when he glanced up, his hand froze mid-scroll.
Same black scrubs. Same ridiculous yellow cardigan she refused to retire, even though the left sleeve was slowly unraveling at the cuff.
But today, today she had on glasses. Brown-framed, slightly askew, perched on the bridge of her nose like an afterthought. Her ponytail was lopsided and loose, strands falling out and catching in the corner of her lip gloss.
She looked ethereal.
A wave of quiet affection hit him, all at once, and he didn’t know what to do with it.
She glanced at him over the top of the lenses with a bleary squint, like she couldn’t quite focus on his face yet.
“Don’t start,” she muttered, voice still coated in sleep and irritation.
Robby set the tablet down and raised both hands in mock surrender, the beginnings of a grin tugging at his mouth.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
“You were absolutely going to say something,” she countered, shouldering past him toward the counter.
He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back against the counter just to watch her move. The glasses made her look somehow younger and smarter and more infuriatingly attractive all in one. A walking contradiction. His brain short-circuited trying to process it.
“Fine,” he said, eyeing her over the rim of his own coffee cup. “You look like a sexy librarian who moonlights as an ER doctor.”
She froze with her hand on the keyboard.
Then turned her head slowly, her expression hovering between suspicion and amusement.
“That’s disturbingly specific.”
“It’s a compliment.”
“It sounds like a fantasy.”
He shrugged, unapologetic. “I didn’t say whose.”
Her cheeks flushed, betraying her irritation, but she turned back to the machine without another word, reaching for a tablet. He noticed her hands shook just slightly—maybe from lack of caffeine, maybe from something else.
“These are my backup glasses from med school,” she said finally, tapping her ID badge on the computer “My contact prescription expired. I feel like I look twelve.”
Robby tilted his head, gaze trailing slowly over her profile.
She was frowning down at the screen. Her glasses had slipped again, resting precariously on the tip of her nose, and she pushed them up absently with her ring finger—an old, unconscious habit, probably from residency. Something about the motion made his chest ache.
“You really don’t,” he said.
There was a softness in his voice that surprised even him.
You paused mid-type, fingers tightening around the mouse. For a beat, she didn’t move at all. Just stood there, like she wasn’t sure what to say—or maybe like she didn’t want to say something that might be too much.
She turned slightly, eyes meeting his under the muted fluorescent lights. Her expression wasn’t playful anymore.
“You okay?” Robby asked gently.
She hesitated. Then nodded once.
“Yeah. Just… didn’t sleep great.”
“Too much thinking?”
Her gaze lingered on his face. And for a flicker of a second—just a heartbeat—he saw it. The wall slip. The thing she didn’t let anyone else see. The part of her that carried everything, that held tight to every mistake, every bad outcome, every pressure to be perfect and untouchable and fine.
“Yeah,” she said, almost too quietly. “That.”
Robby opened his mouth. He didn’t even know what he was going to say—maybe something dumb and sweet, maybe something dangerous and real—but before he could, the intercom above their heads crackled to life.
“Code One Trauma, ETA four minutes.”
Just like that, the moment dissolved.
You turned on your heel, all business again. But her eyes lingered on his for half a second longer than they needed to.
They fell into step down the hallway, walking shoulder to shoulder toward the trauma bay like they had a hundred times before. No more talking. Just the beat of their sneakers on linoleum and the weight of the unspoken hanging in the space between them.
By 10:30, they’d already cleared two trauma rooms and started prepping for a third.
They hadn’t had a break. Hadn’t spoken about anything outside of clinical orders. But Robby kept finding himself watching her—not just watching, but noticing.
The way her glasses slid down her nose every twenty minutes, and she pushed them back up with the back of her wrist without even thinking.
The way her lashes fluttered when she focused hard on a BP drop or scanned a chart.
The way her cardigan kept slipping off her shoulder and she never once fixed it, too busy thinking two steps ahead of everyone else in the room.
And the worst part?
Every time he looked at her, it hit him harder.
This woman—this terrifying, brilliant, sarcastic woman—was undoing him with the stupidest things. A squint. A cardigan. A pair of backup glasses that didn’t even fit her right.
And she didn’t even know.
She didn’t see the way the nurses looked between them sometimes. The way his residents had started to raise their eyebrows when he followed her out of a trauma room instead of heading to the next patient.
She didn’t feel the way his pulse jumped every time she brushed past him in a hallway or said his name in that low, unimpressed voice she used when he teased her too much.
And maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was safer if she never did.
But as she bent over a monitor, squinting to read an ABG without realizing her glasses had slipped all the way to the end of her nose, he couldn’t help it.
He walked over, reached out, and gently pushed them up for her.
She blinked, startled.
Then turned her head, eyes wide and unreadable.
He dropped his hand and stepped back before he could say something stupid.
“You were gonna go cross-eyed,” he said casually.
She stared at him. Then smiled and looked away.
He turned back toward the supply cart, pulse hammering in his throat like he’d just crossed a line.
Maybe he had.
But in that moment, watching her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and pretending her ears weren’t turning red, Robby knew exactly what was happening to him. He was falling. Hard. Helplessly.
Too good!!!
All that glitters
parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader
summary. jack isn't a materialistic man, and you try your best not to be spoiled—but when your man gets flirted with, maybe it's time to flaunt the rings?
warnings. typical pitt setting, hospital drama, age gap bc i make the rules in this house (Jack late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), secret marriage trope but the don't really try very hard to hide it, jack gets flirted with, sassy jack, reader that has hair long enough to be in a ponytail, other pitt characters, let me know if there's anything else!
notes. love love love jack and younger reader who he loves to spoil—i'll make them my mark sloan/lexie grey dream. sorta follows the stereotype of nurses getting married young with a big phat rock on their finger and reader is living her best life fr, today she's giving health icon realness! like always feedback is very much appreciated and i love all of you!
wc. 1500+
There were very few perks to working night shift in the ER, but your coworkers were definitely one of them. The vibe was calmer, looser. You could play music low, crack jokes in between traumas, and snack on protein bars and green juice in peace without an intern hovering at your elbow asking if this was the “bad kind of blood.”
More importantly though? You didn’t have to deal with as many junior staff mispronouncing meds or asking you if “NPO” was a hospital in another state.
Not that you were that far off from their age. You were only a few years ahead of most of them, and honestly? You didn’t always look like someone who belonged in the ER. You were the compression jacket-wearing, Pilates-going, smoothie-before-shift, electrolyte-during kind of nurse. Hair always in a claw clip, nails always clean and glossy, scrubs perfectly tailored and paired with a cute fleece half-zip. Your badge reel had glitter. Your tumbler was filled with ice water. You had a favorite lip balm and two glosses.
And somehow, you were married to Jack Abbot.
Not that most people at PTMC knew that.
All that glitters
parings. jack abbot x nurse!reader
summary. jack isn't a materialistic man, and you try your best not to be spoiled—but when your man gets flirted with, maybe it's time to flaunt the rings?
warnings. typical pitt setting, hospital drama, age gap bc i make the rules in this house (Jack late 40s, reader late 20s early 30s), secret marriage trope but the don't really try very hard to hide it, jack gets flirted with, sassy jack, reader that has hair long enough to be in a ponytail, other pitt characters, let me know if there's anything else!
notes. love love love jack and younger reader who he loves to spoil—i'll make them my mark sloan/lexie grey dream. sorta follows the stereotype of nurses getting married young with a big phat rock on their finger and reader is living her best life fr, today she's giving health icon realness! like always feedback is very much appreciated and i love all of you!
wc. 1500+
There were very few perks to working night shift in the ER, but your coworkers were definitely one of them. The vibe was calmer, looser. You could play music low, crack jokes in between traumas, and snack on protein bars and green juice in peace without an intern hovering at your elbow asking if this was the “bad kind of blood.”
More importantly though? You didn’t have to deal with as many junior staff mispronouncing meds or asking you if “NPO” was a hospital in another state.
Not that you were that far off from their age. You were only a few years ahead of most of them, and honestly? You didn’t always look like someone who belonged in the ER. You were the compression jacket-wearing, Pilates-going, smoothie-before-shift, electrolyte-during kind of nurse. Hair always in a claw clip, nails always clean and glossy, scrubs perfectly tailored and paired with a cute fleece half-zip. Your badge reel had glitter. Your tumbler was filled with ice water. You had a favorite lip balm and two glosses.
And somehow, you were married to Jack Abbot.
Not that most people at PTMC knew that.
a Dr. Jack Abbot one-shot (The Pitt)
pairing: Jack Abbot x f!reader
summary: when a stubbornly charming chef keeps showing up in his ER, Dr. Jack Abbot finds it harder and harder to ignore the pull toward something—or someone—he didn't plan for…
warnings/tags: slow burn, hurt/comfort, grumpy x sunshine, food as a love language, age gap, fainting/medical emergency, mild language
word count: 5.5k
a/n: my new hyperfixation i guess ???
KISS IT BETTER
➙ Stiles Stilinski x Goth!F!Reader
➙ Stiles finally had gotten a chance to take a break from the bench. He felt pretty prepared, thinking he was aware of any possible outcome. Except for of course—the one that occurred.
what to expect…flirty fluff, stiles getting injured, possible second hand embarrassment for like a split second if you squint, annoying ass jock, read the title.
I LIKE YOU IN RED
➙ Stiles Stilinski x Goth!F!Reader
➙ Stiles was always a bit of a mess in the face of a compliment, especially when it came from a girl. More specifically when it came from the, as Lydia Martin would say, Morticia Adam’s of Beacon Hills.
what to expect…flirty fluff, stiles being a complete flustered fool, reader is definitely doing this on purpose for many reasons.
For people who messaged me, I’m taking a long break from tumblr and clearing my head to prepare for deleting my blog (I have tons of work that needs to be saved).
✌🏾
My blog will be deleted by April 13th. Been a crazy few years but I’m so happy for this new chapter of being officially off tumblr. Thank you all who supported my stories and myself for those 8 years. Truly appreciate you all.
You know, I’ve been seeing a lot of posts from black writers about lack of engagement and just feeling like quitting and stopping writing on here - and that makes me so sad because so many of them are talented and deserve to be told and praised that they are.
I know I’m not necessarily struggling for engagement - I personally struggle with finding the time to be as engaging back and posting as much as I can because of my mental health. But when I show up, I show up.
Below are some of my favourite writers who deserve to be constantly praised for the work they do 🩷.
@mauveisroyalexo - she is a special shoutout because she’s my bestie and her content is specifically for the BTS girlies (I love you).
@hopefulromantic1 - the woman who gave me the final push to begin writing for Jules.
@saintslewis - I cannot even begin to think about how in the we’ve changed each other’s lives in such short time. I love you endlessly.
@saturnville - your work doesn’t go unnoticed mama. Keep shining.
@iamquiantrelle - your work ethic is unmatched! I’m tryna get like you lmao
@peyiswriting - the fact that you don’t let a language barrier stop you from writing incredible pieces of work is beautiful and inspiring!
@miyuhpapayuh - been riding with you for a long time! Ly
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes - this woman has a way with words WHEW!
@fineanddandy - when I say versatility is scared of her, I mean it.
@megamindsecretlair - The Terry Richmond QUEEN
@uzumaki-rebellion - your talents are underrated
@caramara3 - the only woman keeping me on the WWE side 😂
There are just simply too many of you to appreciate but keep thriving and winning my ladies. Will always be rooting for you 🩷
I love you Ru! Thank u
PLAYING FOR KEEPS (chapter 4)──────iamquaintrelle
⌗ pairing : jules koundé x black oc
⌗ tags : @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @sinflowersugar @hotfudgeslug @muglermami @julescpu @greyishbach @certifiedlesbianbaddie @trinitoldyouso @greedyjudge2 @peyiswriting @127hydrangeas @rosiesdior @invertedempress @kj77 @pinkcatcus @thepointlessideas @thee-eldestandonly @szariahwroteit
⌗ summary : jules is focused on himself — no girlfriend, no drama — but now he seems to have both after pictures of him having fun at a friend's house party shows up in tabloids, and now fashion houses are calling for him? and his agent wants him to keep up this charade? ♡ masterlist. (✨💕)
