#pittbats

Orbiters ft. @drhalepitt, @pittbats, @combxtpulse @pittmash

The hallway outside Willow’s apartment is too quiet. Jack leans his shoulder against the wall beside her door, head tipping back just enough to rest for a second, eyes falling shut like he might drift if he lets himself. The adrenaline’s gone now. Burned off somewhere between the last call and the drive over. What’s left is the ache underneath it.

There isn't a doubt in his mind he looks like hell. There’s a bruise already blooming dark around his eye, a split along his brow that’s dried into a rough line with a couple stitches thrown in, cuts across his knuckles and forearms were haphazardly covered in bandages that were in need of changing. His shirt’s wrinkled, marked, collar stiff where blood had dried and been half-wiped away. Even the way he’s standing is off, weight shifted like something’s pulling in his side that he’s ignoring out of habit.

He lifts a hand and knocks. Then his arm drops back to his side, fingers brushing the wall as he steadies himself again. He doesn’t move from where he’s braced, doesn’t bother trying to stand straight.

“Willow,” Jack calls, voice rough, worn down to something quieter than usual. “It’s me.”

@pittbats bared their pretty throat : 🍨 What is the mun’s favorite ice cream flavour?

‘Phish Food, apparently. Which tells you quite a lot, doesn’t it? Not content with choosing a normal flavour, no, she had to pick one with chocolate ice cream, marshmallow, caramel, and little fish-shaped pieces of chocolate swimming about in it like the whole thing was assembled during a very emotional breakdown in a sweet shop. It is excessive, dramatic, slightly ridiculous, and far too pleased with itself, so naturally she loves it. I would judge her, but honestly, it does make sense. She has never met a sensible craving she could not improve by making it more chaotic.’

One moment they’re in the middle of a conversation about a patient that they had brought in earlier, and the next a sound is leaving her as she hits the wall, an ‘oft’ as air is forced out her lungs. 

Everything happens in slow motion for a moment, the sound of glass smashing…the spark crack and splinter and the tinkling of falling that follows. She knows without having to look that the glass panels in the doors are broken, and really part of her is surprised that it doesn’t happen more often but here they are. 

As time snaps back into a normal flow, the hallway around her almost feels like it explodes, she can feel the burst of anger ripple across the air, like a stone being tossed in water. 

The adrenaline it provokes is real, Feng Wu can almost pinpoint the exact millisecond it hits her blood stream and she has to make the choice of what to do. In another life time a sword would have been drawn and there’s be blood lining the walls but now…no. 

[text: Willllllllow] Thank you so much!! 🥰

[text: Willllllllow] Maaaaaaybe but idk if I'm hardcore enough for Ortho

[text: Willllllllow] And the ED's got more variety

[text: Willllllllow] Getting to see you more is an excellent persuasive tactic though

THE NEON SIGNS OF COUNTY LINE WASHED EVERYTHING IN GOLD AND RED—Igraine backed onto the edge of the dance floor, boots catching against worn wood . Hardy rang through the bar from the live band onstage , loud enough she had to lean in closer . ❝ C'mon, cowboy. You're already less embarrassing than half the men here. ❞

Her grin tugged sideways , caught his wrist and pulled him into position beside her . It wasn't as crowded as it had been before , especially on a Monday evening . Igraine hooked her thumbs into the front of her jeans , rocking back onto her heel while she demonstrated the first steps .

❝ Right twice. Left twice, ❞ she instructed, eyes flicking toward him instead of her own feet. ❝ Then turn. Don't think too hard about it or you'll eat shit in front of everybody. ❞ On beat, she pivoted smoothly, hips swaying with the rhythm before lifting her boot and slapping the heel with practiced ease.

❝ Heel. Down. Shimmy, ❞ she counted, laughing under her breath as she looked back at him. ❝ You got it, Quinten, or am I gonna have to hold your hands through this? ❞