Fifty-something Jewish fan of "The Pitt" and writer of fanfic, all-around nerd, lost in the Rabbot hole, noshing Rabbotshimi. Avatar by @natendo-art :) http://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakedownStreet/
My Rabbot fanfiction master list (updated on 8/13/2026)
GIF by @lissa
"To Protect and To Serve" (AU series - both stories "To Protect and To Serve" and "All I Can Breathe Is Your Life" are complete): Jack is a Pittsburgh Police sergeant and Robby is the owner of a deli/bakery in Squirrel Hill. The two meet when Jack walks into Robby's shop with his partner, Officer John Shen.
“Prisoner of the Road” (oneshot, set at beginning of Robby’s sabbatical): The first leg of Robby's motorcycle sabbatical takes him to Detroit, but no matter how fast he rides, none of it helps silence the echo of the soft, airy little grunts Jack breathed into his ear the morning he left Pittsburgh.
“Black Orchids and the Boy King” (oneshot, post-sabbatical): Jack catches a glimpse of his best friend's newest tattoo at Dana's Labor Day cookout and can't stop obsessing about it. (Written for the 2026 Pitt Summer Fic Exchange.)
“Listen as the Wind Blows” (3 chapters, complete): Robby + Jack meet in New Orleans a month before 9/11 when Robby is a senior resident at Big Charity and Jack is an Army medic training to be a Green Beret.
After the Storm (series): Robby + Jack meet in New Orleans in 2005 after Hurricane Katrina, then part, only to reunite years later at PTMC. There are a total of ten stories in the now-complete series. The last one, "As You Are Now, So Once Was I," posted on 12/29.
Man of Sorrows (series): Jack hits his fave gay bar the night of PittFest and runs into Robby.
"Fifty Fest" (oneshot, set in the "After the Storm" universe): Extravert Jack asks introvert Robby to throw a big party to celebrate Jack's 50th birthday.
Hello Moto (oneshot, set in the "After the Storm" universe): "What if Robby and Dana slept together in 2006 after a terrible shift, and Jack didn't confront him about it until 2025 when they were on a 1000-mile motorcycle road trip through the Rockies?"
Beer, Brisket, and Latkes (Hanukkah themed oneshot, set in the "After the Storm" universe): Jack surprises his fiancé with homemade brisket and latkes when Robby comes home after a long shift.
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Apologies in advance if this is an inappropriate question to consult you on, but i thought you'd likely be able to provide a good response: so i've been noticing in a lot of ao3 fics (not yours obviously) writers occasionally have robby using like 'christian expletives' or whatever the word is (like when someone says "jesus fucking christ") and it always rubs me the wrong way to see it but i ain't jewish so i don't have it on like full authority whether that is actually ignorance on their parts or i'm reading too much into it. i'm largely unsure cause i myself am an agnostic atheist but i do constantly use religious terms from my former religion that way, simply due to it getting baked into my vocabulary over the years, but in my case it was the majority religion in my area and i dont think it would work that way for someone who's part of a minority religion picking up and using terms from a majority one just cause theyre common to hear, but like what do i know. Any insight?
Ohhh yeah, I gotchu. Not inappropriate at all! ❤️
I’ve got my two cents about it and I’m not saying my opinion is the end-all-be-all of the Jewish experience, it isn’t. But — as a Jewish dude, I do use “Jesus fucking Christ” a lot in my daily life and iterations of it. However, like you mentioned, that’s mostly because I grew up in the South. It’s just common vernacular that I picked up while growing up. So do I think Robby might use it as an expletive? Maybe. I personally don’t see a huge issue with it. (I think he even might say it canonically at some point? But don’t quote me on it…)
Now, if it’s every other paragraph or heavy mentions of Christian themes from Robby’s POV, that I do take issue with. It just doesn’t read right and as Robby is a Reform Jewish guy from Pittsburgh — yeah, no. But the occasional expletive 🤷 it’s up to the writers, in my opinion.
But thank you so much for asking and if I could give you a hug I would. If more people actually just asked minority groups what was what, then maybe the world would be a better place ❤️
Lemme ask the fam: @shakedownstreet73 @club-medical @my-dress-is-on-fire @eameschairs
Chiming in as a fifty-ish Reform Jew who curses about as much as Robby does, I definitely use “Jesus” and/or “Christ” as curses, with an occasional F-bomb linking the two.
I live in the South now but grew up out West, and I picked up the JFC habit young, so it’s not just a Southern thing.
In canon, Robby definitely uses “Christian” curses—the one that comes to mind is when he goes off on Gloria during the MCI (after which Abbot tells him to get some air). He gives her a bellowing “jeeezus” :)
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I’m wrapping up work on a new AU, set at the U.S. Army’s 95th Evacuation Hospital in early January 1968.
Robby is a first-year resident at Charity Hospital in New Orleans who, like most male med school graduates in the late 1960s, is forced to accept a commission as a military physician and serve a year at a U.S. military hospital in South Vietnam.
Robby is staunchly opposed to the war in Vietnam, but like most men of his generation, he was trapped, and four months into his twelve-month tour, he’s miserable.
Until his hooch-mate departs at the end of his own twelve-month tour, only to be replaced by one Capt. Jack Abbot.
This is a story I’ve wanted to write for the last half-year or so, but only started writing this week. And since I started writing it, it’s poured out of me.
I loved the show China Beach when it aired on ABC when I was in high school. This story is set at the Army hospital (the 95th Evacuation Hospital in Da Nang) that the show China Beach was based on.
I am not yet sure if this is a mere oneshot, or something more.
Most nights when Robby turns up unannounced, Jack will make them a quick meal. Something hearty and filling but good. Usually army food he had the base—the dishes everyone liked that the cooks could throw together and actually be delicious every time. Shit on a Shingle is a go-to. Instead of cut-up Steak-umms or any other ‘chipped beef’, Jack uses lean ground beef, and he seasons the gravy to perfection. He's also learned that lightly toasting the bread really elevates the dish. It's a good way to get Robby to eat.
They use paper plates instead of glass dishware to cut down on cleanup and Jack serves water instead of beer under the guise of being just a little healthy. The couch is the preferred spot to eat while they binge movies or TV shows, and Robby will, nine times out of ten, fall asleep with his head on Jack's shoulder.
It's predictable. It's comfortable. It's something they both need.
Smutty smut smut under the cutty cut cut
Which is why Jack is confused—but not complaining—when instead of dinner and another 6 episodes of Monk yet again, he's got Robby pressed back into cushions with one leg draped over the backrest and the other bent out and open to his chest while Jack has three fingers working in and out of Robby’s hole. His other hand is splayed flat on Robby’s abdomen in an attempt to keep his writhing from dislodging the digits.
How did they end up here? It's all a blurry, fast moving memory of Robby kissing him…Robby straddling him. Robby grinding down against him.
And Jack—
Jack sliding his hands down the back of Robby’s pants, palms curling around the flesh he's wanted for over a decade, fingertips dipping into the crevice between his glutes, ghosting over what would turn out to be the prettiest hole he's ever seen…
And Robby arching his back…begging.
“I want you inside of me— I don't care how. Fuck me, Jack! Put your cock in me and fill me up—”
Jack knew Robby had a dirty mouth but he didn't know it was quite so filthy. How delicious!
There's no time for serious prep—pity. Jack wants to eat him. Wants to shove his tongue inside of Robby as far as he can go and lick him until he's sobbing, until his entire body is quivering with need, until all he can taste is Robby, Robby, Robby…
Next time.
For now, he twists his fingers, pulsating them against that little gland inside of him, delighted at the way his legs tremble, the way Robby’s head thrashes back and forth. The way his hips undulate, rolling up and down in a desperate attempt for harder and deeper and faster friction, his chest heaving with the exertion as he babbles and moans and scratches down Jack's arms, pleading for release. His cock swollen, red, dripping a steady and sticky stream of precum onto his stomach that Jack licks up like a cat lapping at milk.
“Fuck me…oh, fuck, Jack— I need it! Please, please! Make me come… put your cock in me! Come in me, Jack! Fuck! I wanna feel you come in me!”
Not yet. Not until Robby is wrung out and pliable. Not until he's stretched and able to take all of Jack in one go because once Jack slides in, once he starts, he knows he won't be able to control himself.
Twisting his fingers to drag his knuckles over Robby’s prostate, Jack leans down, mouth sucking at the skin of his chest, his tongue dancing through the sparse hairs until he gets to his navel, to the trail that leads down, down…
And sucks one side of his testicles into his mouth, turning his palm to press his fingertips hard against the gland, rocking back and forth in a circular motion that sends Robby up to his elbows, panting.
“Jack!”
One hand fists Jack's curls, the other pushing himself up, balancing his trembling body so he can fuck himself on Jack's fingers…right leg dropping from the back of the couch, his heel digging into the cushions for leverage.
“Oh, fuck, Jack! I'm close!”
Wrapping his lips around Robby’s cock, Jack hollows his cheeks, sucking down as hard he can, refusing to let up on the assault against his prostate. Between his own legs, Jack's cock swings heavy and hard, waiting for its own turn. Waiting to fuck Robby, to stretch him further…to spill inside of him and claim his entire body as Jack's own.
Mine.
But first he wants to taste him the only way he can at the moment. To feel his spend hit his tongue, hot and salty, and swallow it. To gulp him down like a five course meal before fucking his own come inside of Robby’s body, completing the circuit.
Fingers squelching with the amount of lube applied, he adds a fourth, crooking them to the exact angle where he can assault Robby’s prostate without ceasing. Until he can feel Robby's body tensing, can feel his muscles clenching with his impending orgasm, the shaking growing tighter, more uncontrolled as he rises higher, as he moves closer to the precipice.
Robby's head falls back, his neck taut, mouth open as far as it can go. His back so arched that Jack thinks he's liable to levitate himself right off the cushions. Still holding his body up, Robby's left hand quivers with the strain but he can't control it. Can't stop. Can't move away from how good this feels.
“I'm— I'm—”
But the words are gone.
Jack wants to command him. He wants to whisper into his ear, “Come for me!” but with his mouth full of Robby’s delicious and leaking cock, he can't. Instead, he uses his thumb to rub against Robby’s prostate from the outside, all five of his fingers working in tandem to bring this beautiful, invigorating man over the edge.
“Jack!” Robby yells out, his arm finally giving in and allowing him to collapse backward to the cushions—still arched, hips still moving, still fucking himself on Jack's fingers like he's starving for it—like he's going to die if he doesn't get it.
“Fuck— Fuck! Oh, go– Yes!”
At once, he unravels. His body jerking—unable to keep up with the rhythm but still trying to. Jack doesn't stop. He swallows everything Robby gives him, lamenting any drops that bubble from the corners of his mouth and cascade down his chin and onto his neck. His fingers, still wild against Robby’s gland, not slowing, determined to see how far he can push, until Robby's voice, hoarse and used, cries out:
“I'm coming again! Fuck! Fu-uck!”
The intensity is beyond anything Jack has seen. A prostate orgasm almost directly after his testicles emptied—and it's glorious. It leaves Robby twitching, his hips still rocking ever so slightly as Jack allows the cock in his mouth to pop free, as he slows his fingers against that sensitive gland.
God, if he knew how responsive Robby was before this!
“I can't– I can't!” Robby pleads, his head whipping back and forth as his abdomen tenses and untenses, as his heels push him further up the couch, the pleasure too much, his body trying to get away even as his hands grapple to grab onto Jack, to drag him closer.
Jack allows Robby to pull him up his chest, but he doesn't stop the assault on his prostate. His fingers picking up speed again, chasing him up the couch until Robby is blocked by the arm, trapped by Jack's lips against his own. His exhausted body dips and rises, hips driving him up and down, everything too much and not enough as Jack brings him closer to a second anal orgasm.
“Jack—” Robby tries, as they take a breath, but Jack sucks in his air as well as Robby’s tongue, and keeps going. Robby's head drops back, breaking the kiss as he gasps out: “Yes! Fuck! I'm close again! Fuck! Fuck! I'm–”
His entire back and ass lift from the couch as he comes, knees raising him up and down in jerky, satisfied movements as Jack rides him through it before finally, finally pulling his fingers free.
He gives Robby all of 5 minutes to catch his breath.
Jack's turn.
💦
Remember: Reblogging is showing love.
If Tumblr did the em-dashes right and I didn't have to write in another doc and paste them over here just to get them to look connected and not like --- this, I'd write more in Tumblr and it would be faster. As it is, you'll see fast stories in Tumblr without that formatting because sometimes ya girl is lazy.
Part 4 of my @thepittaubingo fulfilling the Vacation square!
Oh! What It Seemed To Be: As Jack's wedding looms in the summer of 1946, Jack and Robby embark on a final vacation to the place where they spent their childhood summers.
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Updated two ongoing stories today. In Chapter 27 of Well I told you from the start, Robby and Jack deal with the repercussions of Jack’s betrayal. Is forgiveness possible for someone like Robby? Is it better to cut your losses or tie yourself to a beautiful boat you fear is sinking? This story is set in the 90s, with Jack as a freshman who falls for his MS1 RA. I have multiple playlists created for it, which are linked in my pinned post!
Additionally, I posted the penultimate chapter of The motion of the ocean, where Robby meets a handsome steward and finds himself while on a work cruise. Jack is fine about it! No concerns whatsoever. 😂
Because I finally updated ongoing fics in meaningful ways, I get a present, which in this case means I get to read the latest chapters of Ab inferno ad paradiso by @club-medical and All I can breathe is your life by @shakedownstreet73 Consider this a rec for these amazing (and very different) AUs. It’s a little wacky; six months ago I was still avoiding AUs like they smelled but these two authors (among others) have changed my tune completely.
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Part 3 of my @thepittaubingo fulfilling the Conductor square.
The Fine Art of Conversation: 1875. Jack Abbot is a train conductor running freight between Ogden, Utah, and Reno, Nevada. When his train is robbed by an enigmatic stranger, Jack sets out to find who the man is -- and changes the course of his life in the process.
Hit the limit again on my music post for my 90s set rabbot fic Well I told you from the start, so here is part 3! This is music that the characters listen to, generally referenced in the notes, but not from Robby’s mix tape (which has its own post that is linked to in that music post link).
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