⋆˙⟡.˚ ☾ ⋆˙

And it hadn't been a peck or even just a few seconds where you immediately realized your mistake. No, you had pushed him up against a wall and kissed him with seemingly every ounce of desire you possessed. You left no room for misinterpretation.

Admittedly, while drunk, you'd been overly physically affectionate for what felt like hours. Running fingers over his, squeezing his arm as you passed, lingering, longing gazes.

There had always been a playfulness between you. You'd been working in the Pitt for nearly a decade and so there was a familiarity. You would ocassionally flirt and he would flirt back. But it had always been harmless. It had never crossed the line.

But as you were outside getting some air, he'd followed you out. Leaned down and whispered in your ear, "I'm tired of pretending that I don't want you."

And something inside you snapped. You were also sick of pretending you didn't want him, didn't think about him when you were alone. You pressed your hands firmly against his chest until his back hit the wall and kissed him fervently. For a moment or two, he seemed in shock, and then he was kissing you back, both of his hands reaching up to cradle your face.

It was the best kiss you'd had in years. You couldn't kiss him deeply enough to satisfy your want and when you licked into his mouth, tongue stroking against his, the sound and feel of him moaning into your mouth had you feeling completely feral.

Then, just as quickly, rational thought reappeared in your brain. It seemed to politely tap you on the shoulder and say, Hello Ms. Girl, remember when you said you were done with fuckboys? Why are you making out with the attending most well known for sleeping around?

And it felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over your head, "Oh—Fuck me—" You pushed yourself off him, "I—I have to go."

Stunned, he watched you go for a second, then laughed and trailed after you, "Excuse me?"

You couldn't meet his eye, "I said, I have to go. I'll miss my bus."

"I'll take you home."

"I don't get in the car with people who've been drinking."

"Then I'll call us both an Uber."

Finally, you laughed, "I am not going home with you, Robby."

Then his hand was around your wrist and he tugged until you spun back to him. Not forcefully enough to hurt, but enough that you stumbled back into his chest. Enough that your breath comingled with his, his exhales forced directly into your open mouth. The taste of him, the smell of him nearly made your knees buckle. It had been a long time since you'd felt that somersault in your stomach at someone's closeness.

"Don't kiss me like that and pretend it means nothing." The yearning dripped off his words like morning dew, landed sweetly on your tongue.

You swallowed and then your eyes pulled up from his mouth to his brown eyes, begging you to drown in their pools of honey.

But you were not a fly. You would not be so easily ensnared. You straightened your spine and pulled away from him again, "Goodnight, Robby." You tossed over your shoulder before marching away from him.

"This isn't over!" He called after you, "If you think I'll forget about this, I won't! We'll circle back on Monday!"

You couldn't help the smirk that twisted your mouth upwards. Despite your reservations, the possibility of being pursued by Michael Robinavitch thrilled you.

$1 - A raffle ticket to win a pack of assorted stickers from Mr. James’ sticker collection (free shipping; international welcome)

If you buy a raffle ticket, your name will go into a randomizer. Two winners will be randomly selected to win a pack of 25 stickers selected by Mr. James with a thank-you note from me. You must be willing to provide an address where you can receive mail as there will be no return address.

Choose a character and then a cake flavor, frosting, and toppings to make a tasty blurb.

$2 - Drabble length (around 100 words)

$5 - Blurb length (around 500 words)

$10 - Scene length (around 1000 words)

Cake Flavor

Chocolate (Smut)

Vanilla (Fluff)

Red Velvet (Angst)

Coffee (Crack

Frosting Flavor

Chocolate (established relationship)

Vanilla (getting together)

Strawberry (hurt/comfort)

Cream cheese (omegaverse)

Toppings

Rainbow sprinkles (domestic)

Edible glitter (yandere/dark)

Sugar pearls (possessiveness/protectiveness)

Marshmallows (idiots in love)

If you want an NSFW ficlet, pick a filling

Cherry (virginity loss)

Honey (sex pollen)

Fudge (D/s)

Custard (sex toys)

Marshmallow fluff (somnophilia)

Double frosting (James’ choice)

Truths

$1 - I’ll answer any writing-focused question

$2 - Ask me anything! This guarantees you a response to any question.

$3 - I’ll reveal one sentence from a WIP of your choice with absolutely no context

$4 - I'll drop a minor spoiler from an ongoing series of your choice

$5 - I’ll give you a brief hot take/personal opinion about anything of your choosing related to the fandoms I write for. That’s right: James will dunk on your faves.

Dares

$1 - Send a prompt to be included on my 10K followers build-a-blurb game (examples of previous games)

$2 - $2 - Choose one of my brainworms from this list & I'll write up to a paragraph for it.

$3 - Send an idea & a character; I’ll send back a headcanon of a few sentences to a few paragraphs (example of one of my headcanon posts)

$4 - Choose one of my personal “embarrassing” kinks and I’ll give you a character headcanon

$5 - Choose any of my most-dreaded tropes & a character and I’ll write a blurb for it

$5 - Choose any of my current WIPs from this list; I will add one paragraph and post it. My typical paragraphs are about 50-100 words. This will compound if you wish to donate more - $10 for two paragraphs, $20 for four, etc. Capped at $50 (ten paragraphs).

$5 - I’ll write a blurb-to-scene-length dialogue exchange between reader and any character you’d like based on any of these prompts

$1 per letter of the NSFW alphabet for a character of your choosing ($26 for all)

$5 - I will create a one-screenshot SMAU text conversation (examples in this fic) with a character of your choice based on your prompt. This will compound if you wish to donate more - $10 for two screenshots, $20 for four, etc. Capped at $30 (six screenshots, basically a ficlet)

$20 - I will create a four-screenshot SMAU conversation in a group chat of your choosing (examples: Deran, Craig, and Pope planning a heist with you; the Pittlings encouraging you to ask out Jack)

$15 - I’ll properly outline a chapter or one shot for any WIP of your choice

$30 - I will write a full scene expanding one of my existing fics’ universes

$50 - I will read & provide feedback on a piece of writing of yours under 5k words. Return time will be one week.

$200 - I will finish any WIP (chapter or one shot) of your choice. Turnaround time will be one month at most.

Party Playlist

$1 - Choose a character & I'll add a song that reminds me of them to a character playlist

$1 - Send me a song that reminds you of a character and I'll add it to the playlist

$5 - Send me a song of your choice and a character; I will write a blurb based on it. Your song will be added to the character playlist.

If you want to pool donations with other users to get a bigger item together, feel free; just fill out one form and include all of your usernames. If you want to donate more and ask less, you're of course welcome to and appreciated. Please shoot me any other questions in asks, replies, or messages and I'll update this post with clarifications.

Disclaimers/boring notes:

In case this actually goes well, I will be avoiding spamming your dashboards by combining responses into themed posts. For example, if I receive five $5 donations asking for the same WIP to be expanded, I will make a post with all five of those paragraphs, or I will combine all of my hot takes onto one post, etc. I have no idea what the reception will be like on this, but I don’t want to have this become a hundred random posts on my blog in a row, so I’ll do my best to collate.

*Donations sent through GoFundMe are tax-free to our family; for this reason, it is the preferred donation platform. Donations sent through ko-fi will be taxed as 1099 self-employment income on my end, so I ask that you only use it for donations beneath GoFundMe's $5USD requirement. Both are generally considered personal gifts, not charitable donations/deductions, for your tax reporting reasons.

If you don't fill out the form (i.e. if you send an ask or reply) or don't follow the rules as written, you will not receive a response. I have to be able to track participation.

Jack Abbot likes animals.

He's never really been a 'pet guy.' He grew up with 3 older sisters under a single mom so they never had the funds for family pet, but him and his sister Josie would always find scraps for the strays in the neighbourhood. One particularly cold winter Josie had found a tiny little mutt in the street on her way home from school and her and Jack had hidden it in her closet for almost a full week before their mother had found out and made them take it to the shelter. Since then, he's never really felt the pull to get one of his own.

Samira Mohan loves cats.

After taking an attending position at Presby, she'd celebrated by taking a trip to the local animal shelter and picked out the one who had no applications for its adoption - this gigantic orange tabby with diabetes and a note on his file that he desperately needed to lose weight. She named him Jalebi, and dutifully checked his glucose every day. Thanks to her extensive research he'd lost 8 lbs, and could now run around for more than 5 minutes at a time.

He's 6 months into dating Samira Mohan when he ends up in her apartment for the first time. They were taking things slow. It was his first relationship after his wife - her first relationship ever. There was no need to rush.

1) The Meeting

Jack sways nervously as Samira fumbles with the key in the lock. He hasn't been this nervous since he met his wife's parents all the way back in the 90s. Somehow this feels more significant.

"Jalebi," Samira calls out with a soft tone as she gets the door open.

He's seen the cat before, of course. Samira has sent him pictures, he's joined their FaceTime calls before, but nothing could have prepared him for the truly gigantic pile of orange fluff sitting in Samira's doorway.

"Holy shit," he laughs, bending down and ignoring the pop in his knee, "He's huge."

"He's diabetic," Samira retorts, tone indignant, "And we're working on it. He needs to lose another 4 pounds or so before the vet is happy with him. But his glucose is already much better now that I've got him on the right diet."

Jack extends his hand, Jalebi's nostrils flare as he takes in the new scent, "He might need to lose 14 pounds, Samira. Cats aren't supposed to be this big."

"You're going to make him self conscious," she bends down next to him. Jalebi abandons Jack's hand with no hesitation, choosing instead to rub himself all over Samira. She coos scratching his head, "You're perfect the way you are, right handsome?"

Nonetheless, Jack is well aware that this Garfield-wannabe is the key to longevity of this relationship so he reaches out to the spot where his tail meets his back and gives a little scratch. Before he can even process what's happening, Jalebi turns around and swat's his hand away, ears flipped back in his disapproval with a tiny growl.

"Jalebi, that's not nice," Samira tuts, scratching between his ears. Almost reluctantly, they fall forward under Samira's touch. He keeps gazed narrowed on Jack, "You love bum scratches, what's the problem?"

"Sorry," He puts his arms up in surrender, "I didn't ask. That's my fault."

But for the rest of the night, no matter where he goes he can feel those tiny golden eyes watching his every move.

2) The Sleepover

On account of Jalebi's insulin schedule, Jack spends more time at Samira's apartment than she does at his place. Not that he minds, it still feels a little odd to have a woman in the space he once shared with his wife. Though, he might have been more inclined to offer up his house to Jalebi too if he wasn't worried the still-obese cat would kill him in his sleep.

Jack doesn't stay the night until about a month later. Samira had surprised him with a pair of crutches with his name written in fancy script in permanent marker on the side, and a shower chair she'd ordered from work. It's just a basic four stand chair that she can fold up and store when he's not there, but he's man enough to admit a tear or two rolled down his cheek when she'd ask him to stay the weekend for the first time.

"How long does this stay in?" he asks, looking at her in the mirror. He's sitting on the chair in front of her counter as she drops oil onto her hand.

She warms it in her hands, before running her hands through his curls, nails scratching against his scalp, "I usually keep it overnight. But if you want to take a shower before you sleep you can wash it then."

"Isn't it gonna ruin your pillows?"

"I've had the same pillowcases since undergrad. They'll survive."

Her own hair is slick with the same oil, braided to keep it off her face. A short piece has escaped, falling into her face as methodically rubs small circles along his scalp.

Jack nods, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch.

"What's in it?"

"Amla oil, some root extracts."

"Did you make it?"

"My mom did," she says quietly, dropping more onto his scalp, "She sent me some last week."

Jack is about to try and prod more about her mother, but just then Jalebi makes his presence known, breaking the quiet intimate moment with a yowl.

Samira jumps, aggressively tapping her phone awake.

"Shit, sorry, I lost track of time. I didn't realize it was dinner time."

Jack swears Jalebi winks at him as Samira rushes out of the bathroom.

*****

"Oh leave the door open!" Samira calls as Jack shuts the bedroom door behind him, "Jalebi will wake us up at 3 am otherwise."

Jack resists the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he slides into bed next to her without a word about it.

"Who ya talking to?" he asks, already fighting sleep as he settles onto the pillow.

"Cassie. Chad has Harrison the week before her birthday so she wants to do a little girls trip."

"Oh? That'll be nice. To where?" he reaches out to grab her hand.

"Maybe New York? Apparently she's a secret Broadway nerd. Might use my new attending paycheck to get us some good tickets to Hadestown."

"You can use my attending paycheck to get you guys one of those nice penthouse suites."

"Jack, we've been over this, you can't just pay for everything for me."

"I can pay for everything for you, you just don't want to let me," he chuckles, kissing her knuckles.

"I don't want to think I'm using you or anything."

"If you were using me you would have been out of this shoebox you call an apartment months ago. In fact I'd wish you'd use me more-oof," the rest of his sentence is cut off by the weight of bowling ball crushing his diaphragm. He flails in panic for a moment before realizing Jalebi has taken residence upon his chest.

"Aw hi, belly baby," Samira's voice goes up several pitches like it always does when Jalebi's in the room, "I was wondering where you were."

"He's gonna stay here?" Jack wheezes.

"You're not the only man I share a bed with, Jack," Jalebi's tail flicks happily as Samira bends down to kiss his face. Jack is acutely aware of his four tiny paws slowly crushing the air out his lungs.

"Can you at least get him off me?"

As if knowing Jack's plan, Jalebi turns and sits. The fat feline clearly does not mind the fact that Jack's face is mere inches away from his asshole, or the fact that his tail is currently swiping over it, the long strands getting caught in his stubble. He tucks his pawn underneath him, one ear turned back to ensure Jack knows that he's still paying attention to him.

"You're on his pillow. It's only fair."

"Really?" Jack wrenches his head away, trying to stay out of the whip zone.

"He's purring," Samira moves his tail and tucks it against Jalebi's body. Thankfully, the creature listens and keeps it to himself this time, "He's coming around to you."

"He's trying to suffocate me."

"He's bonding!" she giggles. His annoyance is somewhat alleviated when she leans down to finally press her lips to his this time, "Soon you'll be watching the game together and playing catch, and whatever else fathers and sons do.

3) The Argument

Jack is fairly certain he was a good husband. Though his skills are a little rusty, he's doing everything he can to ensure he's good boyfriend this time around too.

He hasn't seen Samira in nearly week with both of them working opposite schedules. On his first day off he takes a trip to the grocery store and lets himself into Samira's apartment to work on dinner for her.

Jack nods his greeting to Jalebi on the couch. The freeloader's ear flicks in recognition before dropping his head back down and going to back to sleep. He has all his grocery's lined up on the counter, getting lost in his own little world as he puts them away. He's breaking down the boxes of the Samira's favourite protein bars, trying to remember where she keeps her recycling when a rustling noise gets his attention.

"Hey!" Jalebi looks at him, defiant despite the grocery bag hanging around his neck, "You can't kill yourself when I'm watching you. That makes me look really bad, man."

He tries to take the bag off, but Jalebi's ears go back.

"C'mon man, I'm trying to help you."

He tries again, this time met with a raised paw. Jack doesn't know if his claws are sheathed or not, but he's going to have to find out.

Jalebi hisses, lips pulled back in a snarl when Jack gets his hands around the bag. His heart is pounding in his chest when the plump cat flails, worried he's going to get more tangled in the straps.

"How did you even fit in here? Aren't you supposed to be losing weight?"

Eventually, he manages to rip the handles of the plastic bag in order to free him. The little asshole pulls against his touch, freeing himself off the bag with another growl. He stands on the counter, ears pinned back.

Jack puts his head in his hands and groans, "What do I have to do to get you to like me? I've tried so hard. You don't like when I pet you, when I brush you. You don't like when I give you food. Man to man, tell me what I need to do because I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Surprisingly, the cat has no response.

Jack sighs.

"Get off the counter then, I have to make dinner."

Jack flinches as Jalebi's teeth get dangerously close to the tip of his finger when he tries shove his hefty ass off the counter.

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to keep the rest of my appendages, asshole."

4) The Cockblock

Samira sighs against his lips, laying down on the couch, pulling Jack on top of her. He kisses down her neck, using his stubble to scratch against her skin the way she licks. She squirms as he sucks on her pulse point, revelling in the way hear heartbeat quickens under his lips.

"Jack," she's breathless, one weak hand on his chest not quite pushing him away, "I'm disgusting. Lemme shower first."

"Or," his hand is splayed out against her stomach, his thumb creeping under the band of her sports bra, "You let me get you off like this and then we can take a shower together. See how much weight that chair can handle."

"I'm sweaty," she groans as her back arches off the couch.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he winks before dragging tongue along the valley of her breasts, groaning as the salt hits his taste buds.

She's about to let him strip her in her living room when that little fucker howls. She stiffens under neath him, the hand on his chest starting to push him away again,

"He's okay, Mira," he grunts, pinching her nipple through her bra making her gasp, "He's just being an ass."

"Th-that's not, that's not nice," she says, but there's no fight behind it. She's already pliant under him again.

"Knew this colour would look good on you," he murmurs, pulling back to look at her. He reaches back and undoes her ponytail, letting her curls fall around her face so he can tangle his fingers in them. The lilac does complement the richness of her skin tone, making him want to drag his tongue over her whole body, "Should get you some more."

"Thank-thank you," she pants, "I've been needing work out clothes for so long."

"Don't thank me," Jack grunts, slipping his fingers under her bra, getting ready to peel her out of if, "Just as much as a gift for me as it is for you, doll. You should-"

They're ripped out of their bubble by another howl, louder and closer this time. They both whip their heads towards the source.

This time that evil little ball of fluff's whole body starts pulsing and Samira pushes Jack off with a strength he didn't know she possessed. Those two golden eyes stare him down as his body convulses once more and produces the largest hairball Jack has ever seen in his life.

+1) The Babysitter

"Are you sure you'll be okay watching him?" Samira asks as she loads Jalebi's insulin syringe, "My neighbour said she doesn't mind."

"It's only 4 days, Samira," he says, wrapping his arms around Samira's waist and kissing her shoulder, "We can put up with each other for 4 days."

"And you're sure, you can give him insulin? I'm gonna pre-load the syringes for you to make it easier, but if you can't actually give him the dose it's fine, but you have to take him to the vet because if his glucose gets too high-"

"Samira," he chuckles, "I know it's been a year since we've worked a shift together but I graduated med school when you were in diapers. Believe it or not, I know how important glucose regulation is for diabetics."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous," she shakes her head, "If you're ever unsure just call me okay. Even if it's 3 am. Call me."

"Nothing is going to happen, Mohan," he gives her one more kiss before pulling away, "Now, show me how to administer a shot to a cat without getting bit."

"I always distract him with a Churu," she says, putting the bowl in front of him, "He's used to it now he doesn't even flinch. You just make a skin tent with your hands like this and poke like you would a human patient."

She shows him, fisting the extra skin in her hand and poking it with her finger to show where he should inject.

Jack nods, following her instructions. Jalebi sighs as if to complain about Jack's hands on him rather than Samira's, but makes no move to smack him. It's a bit more difficult to check if the syringe is actually through the skin barrier on account of the fur, but Jack is a quick study.

"See?" he says triumphantly, recapping the needle, "No need to worry about us."

"You don't need to test his glucose unless he hasn't eaten, he usually doesn't have that issue but he can be a little dramatic when I'm not home and stops eating sometimes. If it's too high, then call me and we can adjust his insulin. If it's too low, there's corn syrup here," she punctuates her sentence by opening the cabinet by the stove, "Rub it on his gums to raise it quickly. If he's lethargic-"

"Samira," Jack cuts in, "I am a doctor, remember?"

"I'm sorry," she says sheepishly.

Jack chuckles, standing pulling her in by her waist."

+1) The Time He Didn't

Jack hates day shift. He's reminded of this fact every time he's forced to cover for someone. The night shift may have more agitated patients, but at least all of administration is tucked in their beds with no plans to bother him. Half his day was spent dodging Gloria and other higher ups. And he was out a $50 Dunkin gift card to get Shen to come in early so he could ensure he'd be home on time to administer Jalebi's insulin.

He frowns. Of course that little rat isn't waiting for him at the door like he does for Samira.

"Jalebi," he calls out, after he checks the door is closed, "Dinner time! Need to give your your jab too. Make sure you don't go into DKA."

He walks into Samira's pantry to grab a can of wet food. His blood turns cold as he passes Jalebi's food dish. Untouched. And Jack had administered his morning insulin before he left.

"Shit," Jack takes off at a sprint to the bedroom.

Usually Jack has to fight Jalebi for the pillow at night, but since Samira's been gone he's been sprawled across her pillow instead. Fortunately, Jack finds him curled up on her pillow, exactly where he suspected. Unfortunately, he's completely limp and unresponsive to his sternal rub.

Are you supposed to do a sternal rub on a cat? Jack doesn't have much time to dwell on it, just picks him up with a groan and rushes back to the kitchen. Jalebi manages to lift his head, looking up at Jack with sad eyes as he rips open the drawer for the glucose test strips and corn syrup from the cabinet behind them.

Jalebi doesn't even flick his ear when Jack gently pricks his it and squeezes until the drop of blood falls on the test strip.

Shit. He twists the cap off the corn syrup, rubbing it on Jalebi's gums just like Samira showed him before she left.

He's ignoring the throb in his bad leg as he rushes down to stairs, Jalebi wrapped in the throw blanket from the couch. For the first time in his life, he doesn't wait for his engine to warm before he shifts gears.

*****

"Jack?" Samira's voice beams through the speaker on his phone. His heart leaps in his chest. She sounds so happy, is actually enjoying herself and he's about to tell her that he nearly killed her beloved cat, "Everything okay? How's Jalebi?"

"I'm sorry," his voice wavers, "I fucked up. I-I didn't stay watch him eat at least half his can this morning and gave him his insulin anyways and when I came he was hypoglycemic and so I rushed him over to the emergency vet and-"

"Woah, woah, slow down," she murmurs, panic creeping into the voice, "Is he? He's not-"

"No!" He clarifies immediately. Jalebi's blinks at him on the table, still a little lethargic but in much better condition, "God no. He's fine now but he wasn't totally lucid when I got home so I rubbed some syrup on his gums and rushed him over to the vet."

Jack reaches out and scratches behind his ear. His white-tipped tail flicks happily as a very quiet purr fills the room. The line goes dead and he frowns at his phone, certain that is the last time he'll speak to her.

He jumps as he's suddenly left to stare at his own face as Samira Mohan (Resident) requests to FaceTime. He accepts with no hesitation.

"I'm so sorry," he says, running a hand through his hair, "I know I said I could handle it and I just-"

"Jack it's okay," Samira cuts him off, "Stuff happens. You didn't do it on purpose. Turn the camera around so I can see him."

Jack fumbles with the screen, cursing when he can't find the button.

"Jack where are your readers?" Samira giggles.

"I was in a hurry, Mohan, didn't think to grab them," he grunts back, holding the phone away from his face in an attempt to make it less blurry. Finally, he finds the little camera switch icon.

He's impatient, the square in the corner switches between the floor and his face as he tries to get the right screen. Samira's smile grows bigger on his screen. Eventually, he settles on the right view.

Her face drops when he pans over to Jalebi on the table.

"Oh, Jalebi," she sighs, voice wavering slightly, "My poor baby. What did they give him?"

"IV dextrose and fluids." he moves the camera to the injection site, "22 gauge catheter. And he's going to look a little silly until his fur grows back in. But temporary wounded pride is a small price to pay for a full recovery. Right, man?"

Jalebi starts to purr again when Jack scratches under his chin the way he's seen Samira do so many times before.

That brings a smile back to her face, "Looks like you two are getting along now."

"Oh, he's just too tired to swipe at me right now. I'm sure we'll be fist fighting once I bring him back home."

He can hear Cassie's voice on her end, calling her over. Samira mutes her call to yell something back before she unmutes herself again.