#some of these questions i've been thinking about a while... always on the back of my mind

[butyoudidthis4what]

She's Here

Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x F!Reader

21.2k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: I know there’s not a supply closet on the floor plan but we’re pretending; took what I needed for the set up of PittFest from the show, storyline diverges once PittFest patients start arriving; angst; active suicide risk Robby; Robby has not been to therapy; miscommunications; Robby cries; Reader cries; suicidal ideation/suicide planning; allusions to PIV sex and oral (m. rec) sex; dry humping kind of; alcohol; joking use of daddy; mentions of blood; mentions of guns and shootings; breaking up; making up after argument; Robby puts his foot in his mouth; reader has some insecurities; grief; mentions of death/dying/coding; seizures; CPR; anxiety about partner's safety; mentions of compartmentalization; age gap kind of implied with Robby but not explicitly referenced (he's an attending when Reader starts as an intern); no use of y/n or related

Summary: The day of PittFest becomes unbearably worse for Robby. A little over four months into the relationship you've both been waiting years for, you find Robby on the floor of pedes. When Langdon throws it in his face, Robby assumes you betrayed and doesn't react well.

AN: Based on this ask sent in by @loveyhoneydovey. First Robby fic!!!!! I don't know how I feel about it!! I'm very nervous about his voice and characterization here and if it feels like him. I'm always very nervous though. We get some development of your relationship through vignettes of the past like I've done before. Dividers made by the amazing @saradika-graphics. I would love to hear your thoughts and comments and as always thank you so much for reading!!

“We’re doing it.” Robby’s voice is just above a whisper as he walks in with Jack.

“That could mean one of several thousand things, Robby.” Jack glances at him. He keeps his voice hushed like Robby’s. “You’re going to have to be a bit more specific than ‘we’re doing it.’” 

“Her and I,” Robby clarifies. “We’re together. It happened today. I’m taking her out tomorrow night.” 

“About fucking time,” Jack mutters lowly. He claps Robby on the shoulder as they keep walking. “I’m really happy for you brother. For you both.”

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” Jack looks at Robby and raises his eyebrows while squinting a little, asking what Robby wanted instead. “I don’t know,” Robby shrugs, “I thought you’d have some more enthusiasm.” 

“I do,” Jack nods, “but given your near whispering, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to express it right here in, you know, the middle of the entire fucking ED,” Jack’s dropped his voice even lower the further they’ve walked in, “because it seemed like maybe not everyone knew yet and I wasn’t sure if you really wanted me to be the one to tell them or make them starting asking even more questions.” He gives Robby a look for a second before softening it into a small smile and nodding at Robby.

You grin to yourself when you see Jack. You and Robby agreed that Dana and Jack had to know right away but that you wouldn’t tell Dana until Jack was here. You could tell that Dana knew something was up, though. 

You walk by Robby and Jack on your way to Dana, smirk at them. “Boys.” You nod. 

Robby lets out a long breath and shakes his head a little. He has no idea what to do with you sometimes, in the best way. Jack just smirks back at you a little, but softens it out just a bit at the end and nods to silently tell you he’s very happy for you. 

You smile as you walk up to Dana, standing next to her as she looks up at the board. “We’re together,” you whisper, just loud enough for her to hear. “He’s taking me out tomorrow night.”

“About fucking time,” Dana whispers back. She gives you a sly smile and bumps your hip with hers. “I’m very happy for you, both of you.”

“Thank you,” you nod, making eye contact with Robby across the floor, “I am too.” 

You stand up when you hear someone else enter the supply closet. You think it might be Dana coming to lovingly corner you and get info on how your date was. But it’s not her. It’s Robby. “Hey,” you call out to him. 

“Hi.” His response is a little short and confuses you but you just let it go. He walks over so that he’s standing next to you. A respectable distance apart. Robby starts looking through the shelves but as you watch him it’s clear he’s not really actually looking for anything. “Heard you had a date last night.” His voice is strained, he sounds like he’s trying to hide some simmering anger. But you recognize it for what it really is. Jealousy.

You stop pulling the tubing you need from the shelf but don’t turn to look at him. How did he even know about that and why does he fucking care are the only two things you can really think about. He has no right to be mad. You and Robby have been dancing around each other for years now. At his behest. And at a certain point it felt like his reasoning for that changed. 

After a couple of seconds you sigh. “I did yeah.” 

You can see him nod out of the corner of your eye, mouth in a line. You have to roll your eyes at him as you pull out the tubing. “You sleep with him?” 

You scoff and finally look over at him, but he’s still looking at the shelves. “I’m sorry, please tell me how the fuck that is even close to your business.” 

Robby just pulls his lips down. Not sad per se but thinking. “So you did.”

You just want this conversation to be over at this point. Because it hurts. Because Robby has been and it seems always will be right there but unwilling or unable or not wanting to try being with you. “Yeah. Sorry I needed to get laid and actually went out and got it. You should fucking try it, Michael.” It’s not even a conscious decision, deciding to push him away first in this conversation, to try and act unaffected by the thought of him being with someone else. 

He ignores your jabs, but the confirmation that you were with someone else makes his blood boil, jealousy ripping through him and clouding his thoughts. “You let him touch you. Touch what’s mine.” 

“Ha!” you laugh. Then there’s ten or so seconds of silence as you gape at him while his words fully process because you’re so struck by his fucking audacity. “What’s yours? What’s fucking yours? Are you out of your fucking mind Michael? Please, since fucking when have I been yours?” He still doesn’t look at you. “Hey! Look at me, asshole!” You throw the tubing in your hand at him. 

That gets him to turn and look at you with a scowl on his stupid handsome face. He knows that you’re not at all his. He can’t bring himself to admit it though. “Thought we were going to do this. Do us. When you’re an attending. Guess not.”

You have to laugh at his words again, exasperatedly this time. “No Michael. You don’t get to do this. I’ve wanted to do this. Do us. You are the one who hasn’t. And for a while I understood why, and even when I didn’t, I have always respected your feelings. It was you’re under me and ‘I don’t want to mess up your career or give you a reputation and have that impact us’ and ‘when you’re an attending’ that slowly seemed to turn into ‘I’m not sure if I want you anymore’ and ‘maybe when you’re an attending’ and I’ve spent the better part of a year trying to decide if you really didn’t want to do this, didn’t want me anymore, or if you were just trying to protect yourself or something. Because it went from when you’re an attending to maybe when. So why would I be waiting around anymore, Michael? I waited for years. And if it was just about me being under you and my career and people knowing I earned everything I got then why didn’t you come ask me out and say you were ready to do this the second I got offered and accepted an attending position?”

You swallow hard and have to look away from Robby. You’re so confused by him but still down so bad. Deep down you know him calling you his hit you so hard because you are. You have been. Even if he didn’t know and didn’t want you. You’d given yourself to him. But you won’t cry for him. Not here. Not at work. Not where everyone would know regardless of your explanation. 

And Robby hates it. How sad you look. How you could ever possibly think he didn’t want to be with you. That he didn’t want you. He never realized at some point he’d said maybe. It was never maybe for him. But your last question floors him. 

“When you what?” Robby whispers, face furrowed in confusion, lips pulled down even more. 

You scoff at him again. “Don’t even try Robby. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t fucking know that in fucking August of last year I got offered an attending spot.” You look back over at him. Robby’s still facing you but his head is dropped slightly, eyes looking left and flicking around a little. He looks half confused and half devastated. “Holy shit, you really didn’t know. How the hell did you not know, Michael?”

He shakes his head slowly, still thinking. “Gloria and I were at each other’s throats particularly bad last August. Things were crazy here and she kept harping me about needing to interview and pick an attending and I snapped one day and told her that I didn’t even fucking care, that she could pick one for all I cared.” He looks up at you again. “I never thought she actually would. And she never told me that she actually did.”

You stare at him. It’s a plausible story and you can always tell when he’s lying to you or giving you a half truth or omitting something. And it’s not like you’ve told anyone. You’re one of those people who are afraid to announce it like it’ll jinx it somehow since it’s something that will start in the future. Your one exception to not saying anything was if you got with Robby. You’d tell people and let it be known because you figured it would appease some of his worries about it seeming like you got your job only because you were sleeping with him or in a relationship with him. But he never came to you after you signed. It broke your heart more than you wanted to admit. 

You’re not sure how to respond and Robby’s not sure what else to say. “Well, she did. And it was me. So hopefully that’s not disappointing news to you, I guess.” 

“Disappointing ne-” He decides part way through to not even finish the thought. Because the meaning of it all catches up with him. You have an attending position. And honestly, kind of even better, you have an attending position and Robby can honestly say he had absolutely no input into the decision. So while you’re not quite an attending yet, you’re pretty damn close. And that means Robby doesn’t have to break his own heart and tell you that you guys can’t. Doesn’t have to say when you’re an attending. For all intents and purposes you are one. “You can be mine now, Kid?” It’s almost a statement but not quite. 

You nod a little, look down at your shoes. “If you want me, yeah.” Robby doesn’t think he’s ever heard your voice this small and the fact that you think he could possibly not want you kills him. 

“If I want you? If?” He’s quick to close the distance between you, hands at your waist and pulling you to him as he stops walking. Both of you are breathing heavier and after your eyes flit down to look at each other’s lips the tension between the two of you finally snaps. 

You kiss each other hard, sliding right into tongue and sucking. Your arms wrap around Robby’s neck, hands finding his hair and running through it, tugging at it when he kisses you in a way you particularly like. Robby pulls away so you can see each other and you make a noise of protest. “There was never a maybe. And I’m sorry if I said that. There’s no if. Never has been, Kid. Never will be. So will you go out with me? Be mine?” 

You smile at him, steal another kiss before nodding. “I’ll go out with you. And I’ll be yours as long as you’ll be mine.”

Robby laughs. The two of you are finally together. “Oh, I’m yours. I’m all fucking yours.” 

You and Robby have been together a little over four months now. You’re pretty much living with him, you just haven’t made it quite official yet. It still feels a bit soon, even for you. Your lease will be up around ten months of dating so you think that’s when you’ll make it official and completely move in. If he wants. You’re pretty sure he will. You always hear about it the next day if you don’t sleep in the same bed the previous night.

You’re not surprised when you wake up and the bed is empty, even if you are a little disappointed. You know this is a bad day for him. A hard day. You’ve never actually been with him or around him on this day before because until now he took it off and you always inevitably ended up working it. You’re not sure what changed for him and why he feels like he’s ready to be there and work today and you’re not sure if it’s truly what’s best for him at this point, but you’ll support him, be there for him, let him lean on you, whatever he needs. You won’t give him a hard time about his decision to work. 

Robby’s in the kitchen making coffee when you pad in. You’re dressed only in one of his oversized shirts. He’s not entirely certain about working today. But he’s tired of letting the day have control over him. It feels wrong. And when Jake asked for Robby’s PittFest ticket so he could take his girlfriend Leah instead of Robby it felt like a sign.

“Morning,” you say softly as you walk over to him and wrap your arms around him from behind. You press your cheek against his broad back and rest your hands on his tummy. 

“Morning, Kid.” Robby squeezes one of your hands before continuing to make the coffee. 

He’s been up long enough for the sleep to disappear from his voice and to shower. His hair is wet. “Sleep well?”

“I always sleep well when you’re in bed with me.” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Michael.” You press a kiss to his back. “Seriously.”

“I slept well, yes. I meant it.” There’s a hint of exasperation in his tone and you get it. You do. But you ask because you care about him and worry about him. 

“Good.” You close your eyes and just breathe him in for a couple of moments. “You sure about working today?”

He knew it was coming. And he knows you mean well and are asking because you care about him and he loves it. He really does. Because he doesn’t remember the last time he’s had someone care about him the way you do. Because you’re in love with him and he’s in love with you even if you haven’t said it to each other yet. You both can tell the other is. But for some reason he doesn’t really understand, he just falters right before he can say it, can’t bring himself to as though that’ll somehow be what makes it more real, like it isn’t already. And he knows you haven’t told him because you don’t want him to feel pressured to return those three words.

But at the same time, you asking multiple times just in different words is going to be annoying today. That level of checking in on him. It is already. Because he just wants it to be a normal day. He doesn’t want everyone treating him like he’s made of glass just because one bad thing happened on this day. It’s suffocating. He knows it’s out of love and concern but it gets suffocating. 

Just like all the PPE was on this day when Adamson died. Maybe that’s part of why it hits such a nerve. 

Robby takes a second to breathe so that the mild irritation and frustration doesn’t seep into his tone. He doesn’t, however, explain or communicate that he can’t deal with the constant checking in, that it suffocates him. “Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be okay. I’ll have you there with me if I need anything.” He’s hoping that last part tells you that he’ll come find you if he needs you and so you don’t have to ask. It understandably doesn’t. 

“I will, yes.” You’re quiet as you listen to the coffee percolate. You can feel how tense he is. You know you’ll never really be able to understand how hard this day is for him or in what ways it is. So you just want to be there for him, make sure he’s okay. You think maybe a distraction will help. Robby pours himself a cup of coffee as you speak. “Wanna shower with me?” you ask with a seductive lilt so he knows exactly what you mean. 

He laughs softly, takes a sip of his coffee and starts to turn in your arms. You relax your arms and let him, greet him with a sweet smile. “Come here,” he whispers, sticking his lips out. 

You shake your head. “I have morning breath.” 

He clicks his tongue at you. “When have I ever cared about that before?” 

You shrug. “It’s different when we both do.” 

“Come here,” he says again, more stern this time as he makes eye contact with you. You consider it for a moment but eventually give in. You want to kiss him. You always want to kiss him. But you keep it chaste and short. There will be time for more after you brush your teeth, you’re sure.

“Shower?” You raise your eyebrows at him, a little smirk on your face, nails scratching gently at his back. 

He smirks at you. “My coffee will get cold.” He holds the cup up and tilts it just slightly before taking another sip.

You breathe out a slightly incredulous and hurt laugh, take your arms from around him as you speak. First he dodges the question and then that. You tell yourself it’s just because of the day and that he’s not in the mood or mentally there and that’s okay. That it makes sense. But coffee? He couldn’t just say no? “Wow, coffee’s better than my mouth or pussy, ouch.”

Michael rolls his eyes at you. That’s not at all what he meant. “Stop. And I’ve also already showered, which I know you know.” 

This time you just scoff and shake your head at him a little. “Yeah, because neither of us have ever gotten back in the shower with each other after we already showered. But okay,” you laugh quietly as you step back. Robby tilts his head at you as you walk away, he knows you have more to say. You stop and turn around to look at him before turning to go back to the bedroom and en suite to shower. “You know, Michael, you can just say no. You’re allowed to say no. I’m not going to force you to shower or have sex with me. Saying no is okay. Not being in the mood is okay, especially on a day like today. I suggested it to try and help distract you and maybe make you feel good.” The maybe is a little slip of insecurity. “You don’t even need a reason and you never have to explain why, but just, the way you communicate that no. The shitty excuses hurt. And they make me wonder about myself far more than ‘no I’m not in the mood’ does.” You turn and walk away. 

Robby sets his mug down and you hear it, shake your head to yourself. “Kid!” he calls after you, pushing off the kitchen counter. He never meant to hurt you or make you doubt yourself. He never meant to make it feel like this was a you thing. Because it’s not. It’s him. It’s the day. It’s his mood. 

You’re really not in the mood at this point. For sex of any kind or to have a conversation with him right now, honestly. You keep telling yourself that it’s just a really bad day for him. It has nothing to do with you or the two of you. It’s the day. You know Robby doesn’t see it well and you don’t point it out more because he has so much of his own shit going on, but you still have so much insecurity. About yourself. About the two of you. You worry you’re not good enough for him or aren’t what he expected and thought you’d be. 

You walk in the bathroom quickly and uncharacteristically lock the door behind you. Usually both you and Robby leave the door unlocked or even partially open when you shower. You turn the shower on and take his shirt off quickly, wanting to just be in the shower and have it as an excuse for not hearing him. If he even tries to talk to you. 

Robby almost slams into the door when it doesn’t open. He hadn’t expected it not to open. For you to have locked it. “Kid, please,” he calls loudly, hoping you’ll hear him over the water. He knocks on the door, with the middle knuckle of his index finger. “Please!” You can hear him. You just don’t feel like shouting, and again. You don’t really want to talk. 

You stand under the stream of hot water and zone out a bit. Ruminate. You know that you and Robby are fine. That you’re great. You know he’s attracted to you. That he loves having sex with you. You had incredible sex last night for god’s sake. It’s the day. It’s the emotions it brings up for him. The grief. You shouldn’t have even brought sex up. He’s sad and grieving and triggered today. Why would you do that? 

“Kid!” Robby calls again, still knocking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you or insinuate coffee was better than you or anything like that.” When you don’t answer Robby goes and sits on the edge of the bed and lets out a long sigh. He lets his head fall back and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. He really could do without you doing this. Without this added thing and stress. The day is hard enough as it is. 

His voice brings you back and you start to do all of your normal shower things. You’re surprised when Robby’s not immediately knocking and calling for you again once he hears the shower turn off. You figure he’s probably gone back to his coffee and the thought sends a little pang through your heart. 

You wrap your towel around yourself and open the bathroom door. You almost jump a little when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head tilted at you. You look at him for a moment and then walk to his dresser and open your drawer, pull out a set of scrubs, an undershirt and some underwear. You grab your bra off the floor where Robby threw it last night. You can feel his eyes on you, the way he’s tracked you across the room and is watching you. 

When you turn back around and see him he’s smiling to himself, it’s almost anticipatory. His eyes run up and down your towel covered body. He looks like he’s eager to see you naked when you get dressed. And he is. He abso-fucking-lutely is. It melts you a little bit. But you’re hurt still and he hasn’t offered an apology to your face. So you take your clothes and walk towards the bathroom. 

Robby draws out a scoff, but the disappointment rings through more than his irritation. “So what, I don’t even get to admire you as you get dressed anymore?”

You turn at the threshold of the bathroom door to look back at him, capture his gaze. You drag your eyes from him to the open bedroom door and then back to him. You’re stoic as you shrug. “Your coffee’s getting cold out there.”  

You just catch Robby’s shoulders and face fall as you turn back and step in the bathroom before shutting and locking the door. You already regret it. Wish you could take it back. You shouldn’t have hurt him just because he hurt you.

Your words sting, they hurt and sadden him. But he can at least understand why you said it. Robby lets out a long sigh and rubs his face but doesn’t get up. He doesn’t care about the fucking coffee. He doesn’t even want it anymore. He wants you. He wants to hold you close and kiss you. He wants to apologize. He wants your forgiveness. He needs all of that. Needs you.

You get dressed and finish getting ready in the bathroom quickly. You know you need to apologize to Robby and you want to, you really do feel awful. You just kind of hope he’ll also apologize to you. This is not the start to this day that either of you needed. 

Seeing Robby still sitting on the bed when you open the bathroom door is unexpected. You figured he’d go get his coffee and wait for you in the living room. 

You look at each other for a moment and then you break the silence. Robby wants to be the one to but the words just get caught in his throat before he can even open his mouth. “I’m sorry for being passive aggressive and saying that. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve just talked to you and worked it out.”

Robby gives you a small smile. “I accept your apology, and I’m sorry too.” He beckons you with two fingers and you walk over to him, stand between his legs when he opens them for you and rest your hands on his shoulders. He waits for you to look down at him before he continues. “I never meant to make you doubt yourself or feel unwanted. In any way. I didn’t think any of it through before I said it. Didn’t think about how it would make you feel.”

You squeeze his shoulders gently. “I accept your apology.” You’re not sure what else to say.

“You know I want you. I always want you, Kid. I did this morning, I just…” He shakes his head and sighs. “My brain, you know? The thoughts and all that shit.” 

“I know, yeah,” you murmur, running a hand through his hair. “I thought sex might be a good distraction. I should’ve thought a little harder about it before I offered.” 

“It usually is.” He tilts his head at you. “Can I kiss you for real now? Not whatever that was that you gave me in the kitchen.”

You laugh softly and nod. “I’d like that.” Robby wraps his arms around you as he stands up, stopping at the right height to kiss you instead of standing straight. It’s a kiss that at just about any other time would lead to far more. It certainly leads to another kiss and then another, and before you realize it you and Robby have been standing there making out for a solid couple of minutes. 

He groans as he pulls away from you. “I don’t want to stop but I do want to have time to treat you to breakfast burritos and your choice of caffeine from that place down the street. Eat as we walk to work.”

“Treat me or yourself?” You smirk at him. 

“You.” He shakes his head at you a little as he says it. “The fact that it’s also a treat for me is just a fun coincidental bonus.” 

“Yeah, coincidental my ass, Robinavitch.” You try to keep your smirk up but it turns into a smile the more you stare at those big brown eyes you love so much. It almost slips out but you catch yourself, turn to walk to the entryway to get your shoes on. I love you. 

The two of you get breakfast burritos and coffee on the way in. Neither of you say anything but you both think it’s ironic that the coffee was a whole thing and then he just left his mug and the carafe of it sitting there at home. Once you get to work you get your stuff in your lockers, stethoscopes around your neck and head to the hub. 

The day passes relatively quickly. For you at least. From what you’ve gathered from others and what Robby has said when you’ve talked to him, things have not been as smooth for him as they have been for you. You make sure he has some semblance of a lunch, drinks some water. 

Towards the end of the shift he comes and finds you. It’s the first time he’s really purposefully sought you out all day. You wouldn’t say he was avoiding you but a little bit you felt like that. After you asked him if he was okay when you saw him for the second time while at work and got an exasperated answer you realized he was tired of being asked. You knew he was probably getting it from Dana too. So you stopped directly asking, figuring it out subtly through other means. And he’d appreciated it when you backed off. He’d recognized when you’d done so. It had made him feel a little less suffocated and a lot loved even without exchange of the words. Because it was clear how well you knew him and how easily you picked up on what he needed. 

That’s why him seeking you out has you so concerned. It has to be bad. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Robby’s voice is strained as he grabs your elbow and starts walking you towards an empty room. 

Your face furrows as you let him lead you into the room. “Everything okay?” You wonder if this is about Dana and what happened to her.

He doesn’t answer, just closes the door as you walk in the room and stands with his back to the window. “I’m gonna tell you something but you have to keep your reaction really controlled, okay? And obviously you can’t tell anyone.” You nod. “Langdon’s addicted to pain meds and has been stealing meds.” 

The furrows smooth out of your face and you have no real facial reaction other than in your eyes which only Robby can see. They widen just slightly with shock. “What the fuck?”

“I know. I fucking know. I sent him home but I fucking,” Robby’s shaking his head hard. His eyes are a little glassy. You know Langdon is kind of Robby’s protégé. Everyone does. Just like everyone knows you kind of are too. “I let a drug addict practice medicine and treat patients. I fucking let him.”

You tilt your head and shake it at him. “Michael, you didn’t let him do anything. This isn’t your fault. I understand you feeling like it is, and that’s valid of course, but I promise you it’s not your fault.”

He shrugs at you, looks so incredibly helpless and at a loss. It breaks your heart. You walk towards him and pull him further in the room a little bit, drawing the curtain to give the two of you a little privacy. You walk back so that you’re standing right in front of him, just enough space between the two of you that you can see each other. 

You don’t say anything as you reach up and start rubbing at his shoulders and the back of his neck before he can. You feel him relax and he drops his head, eyes fluttering close while his hands come to settle on your hips. 

He doesn’t understand how you always seem to know what he needs. When he needs you to talk to him. When he just needs quiet acceptance and to just be in your presence like this. How you’ve picked up on him rubbing his neck. It’s more comforting and soothing when you do it, the circles he rubs on your hips over your scrubs keeping his hands busy. 

You’re a little surprised by it honestly. You thought he might reject this little bit of comfort you’re offering him. Not because of you but because he rarely accepts it at work even in private like this. You’re pretty sure his brain constantly tells him he doesn’t deserve the comfort here. 

“We need to get back out there,” he finally mumbles, bringing his head back up and opening his eyes. 

“Probably, yeah,” you agree. You stop rubbing his neck and loosen your arms but keep them where they are for a moment to see if he’ll hug you. You’re not going to push it on him, not going to make him feel bad when it’s too much for him right now. 

Robby’s hands squeeze your hips one last time. “Thanks, Kid.” He pulls away and you drop your arms, stepping out of the room with him once he pushes the curtain back. 

You both get sucked back into work and you don’t see much of Robby until him racing in from the ambulance bay catches your attention. Dana comes walking in quickly behind him and you catch her gaze, tilt your head as you walk over. 

A frown and worried brows are etched deep into her face. “There’s a shooter at PittFest. MCI protocol.” 

Everything freezes for a second as you hit fight or flight, limbs going cold and nausea creeping up on you. You say nothing to Dana, immediately turning and following after Robby because you know he put his phone in his locker earlier and is going to get it. 

“Don’t!” you yell at him as he opens his locker. “Michael, do not call or text him!”

He doesn’t stop, grabbing his phone and starting to unlock it. “Are you out of your fucking mind-”

“If he’s hiding and doesn’t have his phone on silent it could give him away,” you rush out before Robby can hit send or call. 

He freezes and looks up at you finally. “Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck!” That one is yelled. “Why the fuck didn’t I think of that?”

You walk over to him and cover one of his hands with yours. “Because you’re effectively his dad in a lot of ways, Michael, and so you’re too close to it, of course your first instinct was to call him to see if he was okay. I love him too and it’s not that I don’t want to know if he’s okay, and I know it’s very unlikely there’s really anywhere to hide and that it’s probably so loud his phone ringing would barely be audible, but I just think it’s better to be safe right now. He’ll know to call or text you or his mom. He’ll know. And if Janey hears from him she will call you. I know she will.”

He’s breathing hard as he looks at you before finally look away as he shuts his locker. “What if it’s David, Kid?” he whispers. Robby looks back at you and his lip trembles just slightly. The implication is clear. Robby had told you about David and everything that was going on there. You know his worry is valid. “What if I just got Jake killed? Killed another person on this fucking day.”

You let out a long breath as you shake your head. There’s a lot to unpack there. “Okay. Everything you just said, and all of your feelings make sense and are real and valid and I’m acknowledging them. I’m not trying to brush anything off. And I will be there for you whatever happens. But we don’t have a lot of time here so we’re going to have to come back and explore this all more if you want. For right now though, you didn’t kill Adamson, Michael. Covid did. You had to make a terrible decision nobody should ever have to make, but that wasn’t you killing him. And you can’t do this to yourself Robby. If and I mean if it was David, it would still be a random act of violence. You can’t control that. And right now the patients about to come in and Jake and Leah need you to focus on getting everyone ready for this and then handling this MCI and you cannot do that and be focusing on the what ifs, okay?” 

Robby wants to believe you. He wants to believe what you just said but he can’t. He just fucking can’t. He did kill Adamson. He will have killed Jake. He knows you’re right about the end bit though. He has to shove all of this in a box so that he can focus on what’s about to happen and patients. 

You can tell Robby wants to fight you about it but decides not to in favor of very uncharacteristically hugging and kissing you publicly at work before walking away to start implementing protocol with Dana. It leaves you standing there blinking at the wall for a second before you’re able to turn and walk back towards the hub to help. 

Robby’s hugging Jack as you walk up. You and Jack exchange a look. You know that Jack knows that Jake’s at PittFest. You know Jack knows how bad the day is for Robby. 

When Jack starts unpacking supplies you go in to help him. 

“How is he?” Jack asks. 

You can’t help the way you huff. “How do you fucking think Jack?”

When he doesn’t reply you look up at him. Jack’s looking at you with his eyebrows raised and mouth set, edges up just a tiny bit to show he’s not mad, asking excuse me? and how did you just speak to me? without a word. 

You sigh. “I’m sorry.” You set down what you’re holding and rub at the back of your neck. You see Jack’s smile pull up a little more as he recognizes what you’re doing, what you’ve learned from Robby. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten snippy. It’s just Jake, you know?” The breath you let out is shuddery. “I don’t know if even I could save Robby if something happened to him and Robby couldn’t save him, Jack.”

Jack’s face softens and he squeezes your shoulder. “I know. I wish there was more I could say, but I know. I’m worried about him and that possibility too.”

The two of you start to unpack again. “I just need him to call or text Michael or his mom and say he’s okay and on his way home. I need this to not happen to him today. I mean or ever, but you know. He doesn’t need to feel more grief and loss that he thinks he’s responsible for today.” 

“All we can do is be there for him,” Jack murmurs. 

“Yeah. I guess,” you murmur back. 

Once you finish unpacking and arranging supplies Jack faces you before the two of you walk out to where Robby is starting to gather everyone. 

“I need you to promise me that if something happens with Jake, if, god forbid, he ends up here and is critical, you will let me run it with Robby. We won’t get him to not work on him, we won’t have time to argue about it with him. We both know that.” Jack nods at you. “So you need to let me be the one to work with him. You need to let me be the one to convince him we’re not getting Jake back and he has to let Jake go. Because you’re the best thing in his life. You keep him going. So I don’t want him associating being unable to save Jake with you. He might work through the emotions it brings up, he might not. But if he doesn’t… Robby’s only going to survive something like that with you by his side. He could survive it without me, he could cut me out and lose me and survive. He couldn’t survive it without you. So I need you to promise me if Jake ends up here, you’re going to let me be with Robby until TOD is called. Same with Jake’s girlfriend.”

You swallow hard as you look at Jack. It will be hard for you to stay away. You worry Robby will wonder why you’re not there, why you didn’t drop everything to come help him. But you also know that he’s not really going to be worried about that in the moment. He’ll be too focused on Jake. And Jack’s words make your heart ache. Yes, because it’s sweet that Jack knows what you mean to Robby, that he can see it and that Robby has talked to him about it. But it’s more because you recognize the sacrifice Jack’s volunteering to make for Robby and Robby’s happiness and ability to get through this. The sacrifice in running the risk of losing his best friend, because Jack doesn’t have anyone else. He doesn’t have a significant other. He has Dana but that friendship isn’t like his and Robby’s. 

“I think you’re selling yourself quite short there, Jack,” you whisper. 

He shakes his head to say he doesn’t care. “Promise me.” 

You hold his gaze for another few seconds before you look away. “Okay,” you nod, “I promise.” 

“Good. Let’s go.” 

“Jack?” He turns at the threshold and looks back at you. “Thank you.” 

He simply nods and the two of you walk out. You stand by Shen while Jack stands by Robby, the two of them talking things through with the group, explaining how a lot of this is going to work, who’s going to be where, what to do when different things happen. 

“Communicate,” Robby tells the group. “Ask for help if you need it.” 

You look at Dana when he says that. Which was the wrong move because you both end up having to stifle laughs. You know it’s inappropriate. You know it’s not funny. And you know that Robby’s really good at the whole ‘do as I say not as I do’ thing, and if what he just said isn’t a textbook example you don’t know what is. So in the moment his words just strike you as funny, in part because all of this is a situation where if you don’t laugh you’re going to cry. Dark humor becomes a coping mechanism. You at least do a good job of stifling it and covering your mouth, can tell you hid it enough and everyone was so focused on Robby and Jack they didn’t see anything. 

Everyone disperses and patients start rolling in. Time loses any real meaning. It could have been forty minutes or four hours. You have no idea. You just know that patients keep rolling in. Never Jake or Leah. 

Neither of you can decide in your heads whether that’s a good or bad thing. Whether it means they’re dead on the scene or that they escaped and are okay and lost their phones in the chaos and are trying to get further away from the scene before they ask to borrow someone’s phone to call people or are just trying to get home.

Robby and you both glance at Dana every chance you get. She has Robby’s phone so she’ll know if Jake or Janey get in touch with him. The patients in front of him at least help distract Robby somewhat. That anxiety about Jake never goes away. The feeling of responsibility never goes away. But it goes to the back enough that he can focus and be a good doctor. 

Patients continue to arrive. In ambulances and cop cars and civilian cars and business vans. 

But never Jake and Leah. 

You’ve been at the Pitt a year and a month now. You’ve been an R2 for a month. You’ve already learned a lot. You’ve already had devastating losses and incredible saves. You’ve already thought about staying here past your residency. You’ve already grown close with a number of people. You’ve already grown very close with one person. 

Michael Robinavitch. Robby. 

You know how bad it could seem. How bad it might already seem. But you and Robby both know it’s there. Something far beyond platonic. You both feel it. And it only grew over your intern year and is continuing to. 

You haven’t discussed it outright but the energy and attraction between the two of you is so clearly there and you’ve seen it in his eyes. When he’s leaning in close to you to help teach you something and his pupils are a bit more dilated than they should be in the lighting. When he sees another man flirt with you and they blaze with what seems like anger but is really jealousy. When you’ve just pulled a double together and have hit silly and are laughing so hard you’re both crying at something so incredibly stupid and his eyes crinkle with affection that never appears for anyone else. 

And Robby’s seen it in your eyes. When something horrible happens and your eyes find his before anybody else’s and a little spirit comes back into them just from making eye contact with him. When he’s hiding how badly something with a patient or family has shaken him and turns to find you and you’re already looking at him with soft eyes full of recognition and understanding that make him feel so seen in a way he hasn’t felt before. When you bring him some sort of treat, sweet or savory, and pass him a post-it note that you pretend is a note about a patient but really says it’s in the fridge with his name on it and your eyes sparkle with an adoration he’s yet to see you look at anyone else with. 

Robby knows he cannot do anything, there cannot be anything between the two of you, not even some semblance of anything until you’re an attending or maybe an R4 if you’ve already accepted an attending position. Being with you before you’re an attending wouldn’t look professionally great for him, but that’s not what he worries about. He worries how it would look for you, like a young woman sleeping with her boss, how people would at the very least have in the back of their minds that you were sleeping your way to the top or you got given things because you were sleeping with your boss or were eventually offered an attending position because you were sleeping with your boss. 

Robby knows not everyone would think that. And he knows it absolutely would not be that. But he doesn’t even want you to risk it. Not for him. He knows your career and reputation have to be your first priority. 

Dana and Jack have both asked him about you after observing the two of you together. He assures them that while, yeah, he has some feelings for you, it is strictly platonic between the two of you, him mentoring just like he does everyone else. 

And so neither of you have ever made any really overt move. Because you both know you can’t.

So there’s been no real discussion about ‘one day’ or if there ever could be a future for the two of you. 

But now that you're a month and a bit into being an R2 and don’t have the label of ‘intern’ and feel like you have a better handle on being a doctor you’ve grown more confident. Not over-confident or cocky. Not even close. Just a bit more sure of yourself. Professionally and personally. And so your joking around with and screwing with and flirting with Robby has intensified a little. It’ll continue to do so your entire residency. 

And while Robby is a bit more reserved, particularly when it comes to flirting and anything vaguely sexual, he still gives it back in his own way. It is overwhelmingly not one sided. 

It’s not just sexual. You and Robby are close. You go to each other with problems and to vent. You seek each other out for comfort. And it’s comfort that forces you both to acknowledge it and discuss it, this thing between you. 

You find yourself sitting on the roof, back pressed up against the wall and legs out in front of you. You’re technically off. You want to be anywhere other than this fucking hospital. And yet you can’t bring yourself to move. 

You stay quiet and still when you hear the door to the roof open, hope whoever is up here won’t notice you before they leave. 

Unfortunately for you the person who walks onto the roof has spent the last thirty minutes looking for you. And Robby’s slightly panicked about it. You’ve seemed off all day. Sad. Overwhelmingly sad. In particular the last time he saw you he felt like you looked… done. With everything. With the world. 

The sigh he lets out when he sees you sitting there on the roof is of relief. You can tell that it’s not irritation or annoyance. 

“Go away,” you call half-heartedly when he starts to walk over. 

“Go away? I don’t think you’ve ever told me to go away before.” Robby tries to keep it light. 

“First time for everything,” you mutter. 

That pulls a small laugh from him. He comes and sits next to you against the wall. He’s close, your sides pressing against each other. Closer than the average mentor-mentee would be sitting for sure. 

You don’t say anything and so for a few minutes the two of you sit in silence, each of you focused on the way the other feels pressed up against you. But Robby wants, maybe needs if he’s honest with himself, to know what’s wrong so he can help you. 

“Talk to me Kid.” And there it is. That name he only calls you. 

You shake your head a little and sigh. Robby hates how sad it sounds. He doesn’t even really think about his next move. He just reaches out and slips his hand into yours where it rests on your thigh, laces your fingers together.

With the setting and context of why you’re both up here together it’s an incredibly intimate gesture. 

You’re not quite sure what to make of it but he initiated it and it feels good. Makes you feel safe and cared for. You look down at your intertwined hands for a moment. His hand engulfs yours with how much bigger it is and it’s so warm. He always runs so warm. 

“I don’t know,” you finally force yourself to say. “I really don’t know.” 

Robby nods slowly. “Just one of those days?” he offers. 

“I guess.” You shrug. It might seem like the silence is purposeful but in reality it’s Robby trying to think of what to say. “I’m just tired, I think.” You sniffle and it’s then you realize that you’re kind of teary. “Fuck,” you mutter. 

“It’s okay, Kid. I’ve had these days too. Some days you’re just tired and so it all hits harder, even shit that normally wouldn’t make you blink.” Robby rubs what he hopes are soothing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. 

“Yeah,” you take in a choked breath, “I’m just really fucking tired.” The tears start to fall freely then and you squeeze Robby’s hand hard like it’ll make them stop. They’re at least mercifully silent, it’s not like you’re totally sobbing in front of him. 

But then Robby really notices how much you’re crying and lets go of your hand to raise his arm so you can lean into him as he pulls you to him, your legs shifting automatically to get in a more comfortable position as you lean into his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispers, tilts his head so that his cheek rests on the top of your head.

You shake your head but hold onto him as you cry, relish in the circles his big hand rubs on your back. You don’t cry for long. A few minutes. And it’s not loud or even sobbing, it’s just crying. Just blinking out tears that end up wetting his scrub top, the occasional shuddery or hiccupped breath. 

You don’t move once you stop though and Robby doesn’t ask you to. Doesn’t shift his body to suggest you move. His cheek remains on your head and his hand continues to rub circles on your back. “I’m sorry,” you eventually whisper. 

“Never be sorry for needing to let something out. It accumulates in this job.” Robby goes to turn his head so that he can kiss the top of yours but he catches himself and stops before he can. “And if you don’t let it out somehow it can become debilitating.” 

You can feel the vibrations of him speaking and it soothes you further. “Everything just felt so shit today. All of the backstories of what brought my patients in today. All crime and abuse. Every single patient.”

“That’s one of the worst kind of days here,” Robby sympathizes. 

“I hate that it’s one kind.”

That makes him laugh which makes you smile. “Yeah there’s a lot of kinds of worst days in this job unfortunately.” 

You sigh and finally pull away from him. But his hand on your back doesn’t let you go particularly far. And when you both lean in a little your faces are close enough to feel each other’s breaths. “Does it ever get better?” you whisper. 

Robby shakes his head slightly. “No.”

You both watch each other’s eyes glance down at the other’s lips. You both lean into each other even more. You both tilt your heads in the opposite direction of the other. You both let your eyes flutter closed. 

But the second you truly feel the heat of Robby’s breath against your lips he pulls away. “Fuck,” he mutters. 

You look down, embarrassed and disappointed and guilty. But despite the almost kiss and Robby pulling away neither of you have otherwise moved. You’re still close together. 

“I’m sorry.” You murmur. 

“No!” Robby laughs, a heavy dose of self-exasperation in it. “Don’t be. God, fucking don’t be. And don’t think I don’t want to. That I don’t want… that. With you. But your name and reputation and career… we can’t. We can’t.” Robby moves his head back so he’s looking at you, uses his free hand to guide your chin up so you’re looking at him. “When you’re an attending, okay?” You nod at him and he repeats it. “When you’re an attending.” 

The sinking feeling in your and Robby’s stomachs intensifies as more patients come in who aren’t Jake or Leah and at the lack of phone call or text. You get your patient in Walsh’s hands to be taken up to surgery and change into a fresh trauma gown and step outside, checking on triage but also getting some air. 

“You good?” Robby asks, walking up behind you. He doesn’t really wait for your answer, continuing to walk towards Shen and Ellis. But the quick press of his ungloved hand against your lower back as he walks by makes up for it a little. 

You don’t bother voicing an answer, nor do you follow him to ask him the same question. You already know the answer. 

As Robby’s talking about getting gurneys to the right angle and helping fix them a truck comes squealing in. Shen and Ellis jump up and start yelling out colors. You put on a pair of gloves pulled from your pocket and wait nearby to see if there’s a red coming. But then you hear it and are hopping up on the tire of the truck to look in the bed. “Michael!”

You yell his name. And Robby immediately knows it has to be Jake. He has never heard you yell his name before and there’s only a handful of reasons why you would today. He tells himself there’s a tint of hope to your tone. “Jake?” Robby yells as he runs over. But he hears Jake’s voice and a wave of relief passes through him now that he at least knows where he is and that he’s okay enough for right now to speak. 

“Red zone. GSW left chest,” Ellis assesses Leah. 

“Jake, are you shot?” you ask him as Robby arrives. 

“I don’t know my, my leg maybe, it’s Leah. It’s Leah’s blood, she was shot, was shot in the chest and I’ve been putting pressure on it the whole time, and I don’t know-”

“That’s good,” Robby cuts him off, “you did good, okay?” 

You get Leah onto a gurney and Jake out of the truck. He walks in holding onto the side of Leah’s gurney opposite Robby. “Get him a wheelchair!” Robby calls. He notices you walking away while he argues with Jake about getting in the wheelchair and staying there and out of the way. He finds it odd, is a little miffed that you’re abandoning him with Leah and Jake. 

But you’re speedwalking to Jack. “Leah. GSW left chest. I don’t think there’s any way. It had to have shredded her heart,” you say just loudly enough for Jack to hear as you take the bag of blood he’s squeezing into his patient from him. He nods at you, gives you a rundown on the patient in front of you as he walks backwards towards Robby, turning when he’s finished. 

“Samira!” you call out to her when you see her look around. “Jake.” You flick your head at him. “Probable GSW to the leg. But head to toe. I’m concerned he’s in shock and it’s masking another injury.” 

“Got it.” She nods and is off to Jake, finding a gurney for him to get on. 

Robby glances at Samira with Jake. “What the fuck?” It’s loud enough for you to hear. 

“Me, Michael!” you call over to him. “I sent her to do a head to toe. I’m concerned he’s in shock and not feeling another injury.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a vague nod as he turns back to Leah. He can’t believe he didn’t think about that either. That’s twice now you might’ve saved Jake. First telling him not to call just in case. Now this. He’s lucky. He’s beyond lucky to have you. “Jake you do whatever the fuck Samira tells you without a fucking word of argument!” 

You get the patient you took from Jack stable and up to surgery, start working on the next red to roll in. They stabilize relatively fast and you find yourself squeezing in blood again. But this time your eyes are flicking between the patient and Robby and Jack and the way Jack is having to talk Robby into accepting that Leah is gone. You can’t hear any of it but you know that’s what’s happening based on the expression on Jack’s face and how he keeps chasing Robby’s eye contact.

After a minute everyone stills and you watch Robby write on Leah’s card and circle around it. You know he called it. Jack’s back over to you quickly, taking the blood from you this time as you give him the rundown on this patient. “Michael!” you call as you walk over to him quickly. 

“I have to go tell Jake,” he mutters, shaking his head and turning to look in your direction but not at you. He’d been watching them wheel Leah into pedes. 

“Do you want me to go with-”

“No. No it’s fine, thanks, I got it. Santos was looking for an attending, go find her.” He walks away without looking at you. He can’t bring himself to. The shame he’s feeling at not being able to save her, at failing Jake a little too heavy to let him lift his head to look at you. 

You watch him for a second as he walks away. Your heart aches for him, for the man you love and the news he has to go deliver to a teenager he considers his son in a way. You can’t ruminate though. Too many other people need you. 

So you do what Robby said and go to find Santos. You get involved with her and by the time you’re done you look around but you can’t spot Robby. “Dana, have you seen Robby?” you ask her as she walks by. 

“I think I saw him taking Jake to pedes.” She grimaces at you. 

You nod and make your way there, opening the door and stopping short. “Michael?”

Robby’s on the floor, knees up to his chest and holding onto his necklace while reciting a prayer through tears. He doesn’t acknowledge you. It hurts to see him like this. It’s physically painful. But he needs you so you set it aside. 

“Michael,” you say softly as you sit down next to him so that your sides are pressing against each other’s. “I’m here.” You grab one of his hands, hold onto it harder when he tries to pull it away. 

“You need to go back out there,” he sniffles. “They need you.” He flicks his eyes up at you. 

There’s truth in his words. But there’s also truth in yours. “Not as much as you do right now.” 

“I can’t,” he whimpers. “I, I…” He shrugs at you before breaking down in tears again, but this time letting himself fall into your gownless lap. 

“Okay,” you whisper, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve got you.”

“I couldn’t save her,” he chokes out, “another person I couldn’t fucking save. Another I killed. Another I let down. It’s two because Jake. I let him down too and he knows it.” You curl around him as much as you can, move his gown and kiss at his shoulder. You let him have a moment and get it out. Because you both know you don’t have much longer than that. “And the worst,” he sobs, “the worst part is it should’ve been me, Kid. It should be me on that gurney. It was my pass that I gave him for her.”

That last sentence is hard to hear. Because you can’t imagine a world without Robby in it. A world where you have to bury him. You want to tell him not to say shit like that, but you swallow down your upset because he doesn’t need that right now. You know there’s very little he needs right now in a sense. He doesn’t need a lot of words or you trying to make this better and discuss his feelings and emotions. He just needs to let some of this out.

Robby knows that’s all he needs right now, too. To let some of what’s eating away at him out in the one place he feels safe. 

You. 

You’re his safe place. He didn’t realize just how much he needed you here with him until you walked in and sat next to him and took his hand. You make it better. You make it hurt less. Just by being here for him. 

“You didn’t kill Adamson or Leah,” you murmur after a minute. “And you haven’t let them or Jake down. Your feelings are valid Michael, and I know I can’t begin to understand on multiple levels but the way you are feeling makes sense. We can work through your feelings. You can work through them. You can get through this. No matter how hopeless and impossible it feels right now.” You pause, have to swallow hard and blink away some tears. “And I wish that nobody was on that gurney. I don’t want anyone on that gurney. I wish none of this had ever happened. For you and Jake and Leah and everyone involved. And maybe saying this is wrong of me. It’s probably selfish. Maybe I’m a terrible person for it. You can hate me for it if you need to and like I said I truly wish none of this happened and nobody was on that gurney. But I am really fucking glad it’s not you on that gurney Michael because I have no fucking idea what I would do.” You let out a shuddery breath. “And I wish we had more time and that I could say more and hold you more and that all of this was over but it’s not.” You scratch at his scalp a little. “They need us.” He nods and sits up, looks over at you. “They need you.”

“Yeah,” he whispers. He’s let himself grow numb. Because right now that’s what he needs to be to get through this right now. 

“I need you,” you whisper back. He knows what you mean. He knows what you’re worried about. Him taking a walk off the roof or something.

“I’m not going anywhere, Kid.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” He nods.

“Good.” You nod and stand up, hold out your hand to him. He lets out a soft laugh as he takes your hand and lets you help him up. 

You both take a second to wipe your faces a bit. “Find me if you need me, okay?”

“I will,” Robby promises again. 

You nod and open the door, both of you walking out. Within seconds both of your names are called.  

“Hey.” He grabs your wrist gently before you can go. You look at him with raised brows. He wants to say it. He wants to say it so badly. But he can’t. “Thank you.” I love you.

Robby slips off his stool at the high top a group of you are sitting at and follows you up to the side of the bar, takes his drink with him. You were sitting across from him at the end of the table and the rest of the group was so focused on their conversation he doesn’t think anyone even realized he followed you. A little bit he doesn’t care if they did. 

You’re down near the last two stools at the bar, waiting for the bartender to get you your drink. It’s busy so you’re sitting while you wait, wanting to be off your feet after a long shift. Robby setting his beer down startles you for just a second. But you can quickly tell it’s him. 

By the sweatshirt sleeve rolled up. By the smell of his cologne lingering just enough under all the hibiclens you can appreciate it since you know what it smells like very well by now. By the hand that sets down the beer. By his fingers. 

You look over at him with raised brows. His glass is still over half full. He came to talk to you. 

“You’ve been calling me Michael lately.” He keeps his face pretty stoic, for him at least. But you can see the slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes and his beard shift just slightly as the corners of his lips twitch up. 

“What an astute observation, Dr. Robinavitch.” You keep your smirk to a minimum. “I don’t have a gold star sticker on me to give you but I can buy you another drink.” Very little in life gives you as much pleasure as screwing with Robby. If you were together like you wanted you could think of at least three body parts that would be added to that list. 

Your words earn you the slightest raise of his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Why what?” Your eyes sparkle with mirth as your drink gets dropped off and you take a sip. They’re beautiful sparkling like this. They always are but Robby finds them particularly beautiful like this, when you’re happy and light-hearted and teasing. 

And it’s just like you to make him say it. Be specific. “Why do you call me Michael? Why’d you start?”

“Makes me feel special.” You smirk fully this time. “It makes me feel special because there’s a handful of people you let call you it, especially at the hospital, and you actively try and make people not call you it. I wasn’t actually sure you were gonna let me call you it at first. Guess being an R3 has privileges. But then again, I’m the only R3 you let call you it.”

“You’re the only R3 who has ever called me it. None of the others have tried. And you didn’t answer the second question,” he points out. 

“I mean  yeah, I kind of did. I started because it makes me feel special.” He gives you a look and you sigh. “In part because I wanted to see if you’d let me. In part because, I don’t know,” you smile softly to yourself and look down, “I like it. Calling you Michael. It makes me feel close to you.” Robby’s never seen you look so shy and it rocks him a little. But the shyness fades quickly for you as you look back up at him. “And in part because some of the new interns got comfortable a couple of months in and were getting a little too flirty with you for my taste. So you can imagine how smug and pleased with myself I was every time I called you Michael in front of them and you said nothing and every time one of them called you Michael and you had to correct them and tell them it was Robby or Dr. Robinavitch until they finally got the picture.”

“So jealousy?” He smirks. It makes him feel good in a way, knowing that you were jealous of attention he was getting. That you care about him and want him enough to be jealous. To feel a little possessive. “And that’s why you needed to feel special? A little petty of a response, no?”

“Oh Michael,” you chuckle, take a sip of your drink. “You and I both know you are so not the one to talk about being petty as a response to jealousy. Should I start listing things you’ve done in response to me being flirted with?”

“You really shouldn’t call me it.” He’s grown a bit more serious again. 

“Are you telling me to stop?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. “And I don’t want you to. Just… You shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Your brows furrow a little in confusion. You don’t get why it matters unless he doesn’t want you calling him it for a personal reason.

“People will wonder why you’re allowed to. It makes,” he gestures between the two of you as you take a sip of your drink but doesn’t name anything, “obvious. People will start thinking and seeing it.”

You choke on your drink, coming close to spitting it out all over him. The coughs you get out once you’ve managed to swallow turn into laughter. “Michael.” You cock your head at him and give him an incredulous smile. “You cannot actually believe that me calling you Michael is what’s going to give this thing between us away. Because it’s been given away. It was given away for sure by the end of my intern year. Nobody asked me anything during my intern year I’m guessing because I was an intern, but a couple weeks into being an R2 I was getting questions. Dana and Jack never asked you or talked to you about it? Because they’ve certainly asked and talked to me.”

Robby blushes at the realization. Deep down he probably always knew that everyone could see it and he’d just managed to convince himself otherwise. “Of course they did,” he answers your question, not sure how to respond to everything before it. “I just thought it was because they were more… perceptive. That they knew me better and could see it in me.”

You have to laugh a little and bite your lip. “You know, you’re sitting here pointing out that halfway through my third year of residency I’ve just started calling you Michael, your first name, and it’s almost like you’ve forgotten you always call me Kid. Only me. Since my first fucking day here. I don’t remember the last time I heard you say my first or last name for something other than introducing me to someone, in front of a patient or in some very formal situation. And I’d like to point out that not a single god damned person has ever heard you call me Kid and then tried to call me Kid unlike with me calling you Michael. I wonder why that is? It’s almost like it comes across as a little more than a nickname to people.”

He looks at you for a second. “I…”

You hold your hand up and half wave him off. “It’s okay. I’ll stop calling you it, Robby.” It’s half teasing and half serious. 

You slide off your stool and grab your drink intending to walk back to the table. Robby’s quick to slide off his stool and stand in front of you though, blocking your path. He looks at the stool you were sitting on pointedly and then back at you. You follow his silent order and sit and set your drink back down.

He leans in a little closer to you than he was. “I never asked you to stop calling me it, nor did I say you needed to.” He raises his eyebrows at you and bobs his head. “Nor do I want you to. I like it when you do. A lot.” 

You smirk at his admission and shrug at him. “You were making an awfully big deal about it.” 

“Yeah because it, it…”

You’re genuinely not sure how he wanted to end that sentence. “It what Michael?”

Robby shakes his head at you. “Just… you’re not an attending yet. Maybe when you’re an attending, okay?”

You know Robby isn’t talking about you calling him Michael. Isn’t saying that you can’t call him Michael until you’re an attending. He’s saying what he’s said since that time on the roof that when you’re an attending the two of you can act on the feelings you clearly have for each other. 

But the maybe in front of that phrase is new and hits you like a slap across the face, heart twisting as it sinks into your stomach. He’s never said that before. It’s never been a maybe and not a certainty. Robby watches your face fall and hurt cloud your eyes. He replays what he said trying to figure out what part it was that hurt you, that made your entire demeanor change. If you’re just that disappointed you didn't change his mind and aren’t suddenly a couple or if it’s something else. He can’t figure it out.  

You swallow thickly, tears sting your eyes but you’re quick to blink them away. “Yeah.” You nod at him finally. “Maybe. But you know, that assumes I become an attending here, Robby. In Pittsburgh at the very least. And I don’t know if I will.”

You slip off your stool, leaving your half empty drink and heading over to the table. You tell everyone the exhaustion has hit and so you’re going to head home. They’re sad to see you go but nobody questions much. You cover well enough that if anyone had noticed you and Robby talking they wouldn’t think you were hurt by him and running away. Which you know is kind of what you’re doing instead of just asking him about it. Asking him if he doesn’t want to try the two of you anymore. If he doesn’t want you anymore. If that’s why it’s a maybe all of the sudden.

Your words throw Robby for a second because he realizes that you’re right, neither of you know for sure if you’ll get an attending job at PTMC or anywhere else in Pittsburgh. He realizes the two of you have never had a real conversation about if you want to stay in Pittsburgh, if you’re going to apply for attending spots in Pittsburgh or if you want to go somewhere else. And then he realizes you called him Robby. 

He’s not sure what to do with that. What it means. He slides off his stool and goes to look for you at the table, doesn’t see you but thinks you’re in the bathroom until he’s told no, you left. He has to play it cool and nod like he isn’t internally panicking about whatever the fuck just happened. And he can’t just leave because it’ll look suspicious. He has to wait a respectable amount of time, ends up leaving when Samira and Langdon do. 

Robby calls you as he walks home. No answer. He has no idea what to even say to you right now so he doesn’t leave a message. He decides to text you instead. He’s worried about you and whether you’re okay and got home safe. He’s always worried about you when he doesn’t have eyes on you. 

R - Let me know you got home safe  R - Please

You don’t reply immediately. Or within five minutes. Or within ten minutes. It’s almost long enough to make him start panicking and change his direction to walk to your place and see if you’re there. Because of course he knows where you live and has been to your place before. But then you finally reply.

You - I did, yeah, thanks. Was showering. I hope you have a good rest of your night

It’s the truth. You were in the shower. In the shower standing under almost scalding water ruminating on ‘maybe when you’re an attending.’ Maybe. When did it become maybe for him? And why? You hate how bad it hurts, the thought of never getting to even try with him. The thought of him not wanting you anymore, of his feelings for you just disappearing. It makes you anxious. 

And more than anything right now, you’re confused. So fucking confused because he’s still flirting with you just as much and as hard as he always has when you guys are alone together or when you’re close enough to whisper. His hands and fingers still linger just a couple of seconds too long when he passes you something or wrap over yours to show you how to do something. You still feel his eyes on you when you talk to other men, especially if the men flirt with you. You still notice him checking you out sometimes. But now it’s maybe. Maybe. 

Robby lets out a breath when your message comes through. He debates calling you again to try and talk on the phone but he’s still not sure what to say. He walks into his apartment and drops his stuff, heads to his room and takes his scrub top and pants off before letting himself sit on the edge of the bed and reply.

R - Good.  R - Are we okay? You left quickly and without saying bye

After you finish getting ready, you slide into your bed and turn the tv on while you think about what to say to his message. Tone is so hard to get out of texts but you can tell he clearly still cares about you and whatever is between you. Enough to ask if the two of you are okay. It helps your anxiety a little bit. 

You - Yeah, we’re fine

He believes you but the word ‘fine’ also scares him. It’s not good or great or perfect or even normal or like we always are. So he can’t let the conversation die. Not when he’s still so unsure about whether you guys are okay or if he did something or if you still want him or if you’re mad at him. 

R - Are you working tomorrow? 

You - Yeah but at night. I’m starting a string of six nights to help cover. 

Robby knows you’ll be with Jack every night. He remembers Jack mentioning a string of six on. He’s not jealous in a romantic sense. He’s jealous of the time Jack will get to spend with you and is already thinking of excuses to stay late to be with you. He’s sad that he won’t see you for more than maybe an hour or so for the next six days.

R - Abbot’s going to try to steal you from days permanently

You type out your reply. It’s genuine but you know it’s going to seriously fuck with him and that the idea will freak him out and make him scared of losing you. Or will it? You don’t seem to know anymore. And that hurts. And hurt people hurt people. But you pause. You erase your last sentence. ‘Maybe when I’m an attending.’

You - He just might. Going to bed at 7 in the morning rather than getting up early enough to be at work for 7 in the morning kind of appeals to me

Robby stares at your response, a wave of deeper anxiety passing over him. You can’t go to nights. He’d barely see you. You can’t be serious about this. 

R - Really?

You - Yeah. Why?

Fuck. You are serious about this. And what the fuck is he supposed to say in response to your question? He knows you know why. He knows you know how he feels about you. How he wants you too. How he can’t wait for you to be an attending or even accept a position because then he can finally have you.

R - Would be a big loss for day shift. You’re one of the best

That hurts a little. That you switching to nights would just be a loss to day shift to him. Not a loss to him personally. That he wouldn’t miss you apparently.

You - You guys would be fine 

R - I’d miss you. I’ll miss you this week

You smile at him saying he’d miss you and that he’s going to this week. But part of you struggles to believe him after the bar.

You - Would you? Will you? 

He can’t believe you’re even asking that. And because it’s a text he can’t hear in your voice whether those two questions are serious or teasing. It hurts him to think that they might be serious. 

R - Of course 

You - Well I really doubt I’ll end up switching. So you’ll only have to miss me for a week 

R - Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

You are so confused by this man. It’s ‘maybe’ and ‘a loss to day shift’ but then it’s also he’ll miss you and his heart will grow fonder. But it was a good line. And between him telling you he’ll miss you unprompted and that being away from you for almost a week will deepen his feelings for you, you’re starting to feel back to your usual self and, while the change has been subconscious mostly, you go back to texting him like your usual self. 

But before you can reply Robby sends another message. It terrifies him. He’s not sure how he even worked himself up to asking you. He just needs to know. Needs to know if the two of you are really okay. 

R - Will you miss me at all?

It’s an incredibly vulnerable ask. You know it. He knows it. He knows you know it. He needs a very ‘you’ answer to it. So you give him one.

You - 🙂‍↕️

R - Good

You - Did you have to google what that emoji meant? (P.S. You should have added girl after good)

Robby laughs to himself and shakes his head at you. This feels better. Normal. Like you. 

R - Did you just call me old? (P.S. Stop it)

You smile to yourself. You know he means the stop it playfully. He’d have said way more if he actually wanted you to stop.

You - 😶🤐 You - Did you change the font size on your phone?

R - I’ve changed my mind about missing you 

You - Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night, Michael

R - Go to bed, Kid R - Don’t  R - Don’t even think it

You giggle to yourself. He’s lucky he was so quick to realize and send the ‘don’t.’

You - Does it make it better if I told you it was going to be daddy and not dad?

Robby groans to himself a little. No. That’s what he wants to tell you. No, it makes it worse in a way. It has him half hard pretty quickly. 

You - I’ve been in bed this entire conversation too, so 

You know you’re getting close to Robby’s limit of this shameless of flirting and overt sexualness. You’re toeing the line. It hits just right though. It makes him harder. Fully hard. And Robby has to groan to himself a little louder this time because if you guys were together he’d work himself up to sending you a picture of his very obvious erection under his boxers, or facetime you and make you talk him through it. But you’re not together. And you’re an R3. And he can’t.

You - Wanna know what I’ve been doing? 

You wait a few seconds just to let him start to think before you hit send on the picture you took of your tv that shows you’re watching some trashy reality tv show he hates. Or pretends to hate. Because he always knows enough about the last episode to talk to you about it. Maybe he hated it before you, maybe he still does kind of hate it, but now he watches it for you. 

You - I’m sure that’s what you were thinking I was doing. Anyway. Did you make it home safely?

Robby lets out a quiet laugh. You’re so ridiculous. So perfect for him. He’s so spectacularly fucked when it comes to you. 

R - Yes and I’m going to shower. You go to sleep

You - 😏😏 You - Alright I’m stopping  You - Sleep tight and try not to miss me too much this week 

R - Sleep well, Kid

Robby throws open the door to the stairwell and walks in. He’s shaking, closer to tears than he wants to admit to himself and he is pretty sure he has never felt this much rage in his life. All of his emotions, all the grief and loss and sadness and guilt have turned into anger. 

And all because Langdon had to come back and then run his fucking mouth. He’s trying to calm down, to let go of the anger before he goes back out there and does or says something he’s going to regret because his mind is too clouded with anger. His hand rubs the back of his neck as he paces to try and burn off some of the adrenaline. 

He replays the confrontation in his head over and over. Eventually he’s struck by one thing in particular. How the fuck did Langdon even know about what happened in pedes? You were the only one who saw him-

Robby stills. It feels like another part of his world is coming crashing down around him. The only way Langdon could have known is if you’d told him. Or you’d told someone else who’d told him. If you were gossiping about him. About something so incredibly private and intimate. 

The door to the stairwell gets thrown back open and Robby walks further into the Pitt, head on a swivel looking for you. His jaw clenches when he sees you standing alone and charting. He stalks over to you.

“We need to talk.” The anger in his voice is palpable. And unlike the last time he sought you out, this time he’s not asking to speak with you. You saw him follow Langdon out so you assume it must be related and Langdon really must have done or said something.  “In here. Now.” 

He’s seething. He leads over to the supply closet and opens the door, walks in behind you, locks the door behind him. “What happened?” you ask, brows furrowed.

Robby just stares at you. It’s like he’s waiting for you to admit something. And you slowly realize his anger isn’t at Langdon or that situation or at anything else. 

It’s at you. 

He finally speaks. “I cannot fucking believe you.”

You shrink back at his words and tone. “What?”

“There are a lot of fucking people here who I would expect this shit from or not be surprised when they did it. But not you. Not fucking you,” he spits out. “How could you? How could you fucking gossip about that?” Robby tells himself the tears forming in his eyes are ones of anger and nothing else. “How could you betray me like that? I trusted you. I fucking trusted you.” His voice cracks on the second trusted.

To say you’re confused would be a massive understatement. Your stomach twists with anxiety. You don’t like any of this. You don’t like how he thinks you betrayed him or broke his trust. Because you’re not sure if your relationship could survive him truly believing that. “Michael, please believe me when I say that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The confusion written all over your face just pisses him off more. It’s like you’re trying to be the victim. “No. Don’t do this shit. Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what I’m fucking talking about. Don’t try to be the fucking victim. The very fucking least you could do at this point is own the fuck up to it.”

You are desperately trying to play your day through your head to see if you can figure out what he’s talking about, figure out what you did that apparently betrayed him and obliterated his trust. You and Dana talked during the day but you never told her anything, just expressed your concern about him and him saying and acting like he was fine. You and Jack spoke while organizing supplies, but again, you just expressed concern about him and how he’d react if something happened to Jake. You said nothing to either of them that they didn’t already know because Robby had told them. You have no idea how he could consider any of that gossiping. 

“You’re really going to make me fucking spell it out for you, hm?” He bobs his head condescendingly. 

Tears spill over your lash line and slide down your cheeks because of the way he’s talking to you, the way he’s treating you. Because you know exactly where this conversation is headed if he won’t explain to you and then listen to your response. Because he’s slowly breaking your heart. 

“You told someone, Langdon or whoever the fuck else, about what happened in pedes. About me breaking down in there and being on the floor. You just fucking blabbed that to whoever,” he scoffs, a few tears running down his cheeks. Out of anger, yes. 

But out of heartbreak too. You gossiping about this, you breaching his trust like this, shatters Robby. Because he loves you. Even if he hasn’t said it. He’s stupidly in love with you. He has been. He thought you were the one. That you were it. His end game. He pictured a proposal and a wedding and a house and maybe kids.

And then you broke his heart. 

“Okay,” you sniffle through some tears. “I know you don’t believe me but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I didn’t tell anyone absolutely anything about pedes. I never would-”

“Well nobody else came in and saw me so how the fuck else would Langdon know? Hm?” he snarls. “You fucking gossiped about it. Like it was this casual thing.” He shrugs at you as more tears fall down his face and he glares at you. “We’re done. Because I will never be able to trust you again. Not with anything like that, with how I feel, to see me when I’m vulnerable. And I deserve a partner I can trust with that.” His anger slips for a moment, the trembling of his chin and the way his eyes soften into hurt and grief give it away. “We waited all this fucking time, I waited all this fucking time for you and you do this before we even hit six fucking months?” You can see when the anger returns as his primary emotion in addition to hearing it. “You threw it all away! And for what. For fucking what? Please tell me. Because I don’t fucking understand.” 

You’re at a total loss. You know that it ultimately doesn’t matter what you say. Robby isn’t in a state of mind to truly hear or listen to anything you tell him and even if he was, he doesn’t want to. Not right now at least. He just broke up with you. For, as far as you can tell, nothing. Your heart is shattered just like his. You thought he was the one. You knew he was deep in your heart. He was always there when you pictured your future. 

It takes you a moment to gather a few thoughts and calm your crying down enough to coherently talk. You clear your throat and sniffle before starting.

“You very clearly aren’t interested in listening to anything I have to say, but I’m going to say a few things anyway and hope you do listen, or think about them later. I did not tell anybody anything about pedes. I would never. Even now.” You take the briefest pause, worried that if you stop for any longer he’ll cut you off and not let you say anything else. “I love you, Michael. I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I never said it because it felt like you weren’t ready to hear it or say it quite yet, or I don’t know, maybe I mistook things and you didn’t, don’t love me.” You shrug. “I was so proud of you when I watched you pull yourself together in the face of multiple things, any one of which let alone all of them combined would have kept most people on the floor of that room, and go out and save lives and rally a team and support others and hold others up while you were dying inside. And I really hope one day, that for yourself, you’ll be able to learn and speak with Langdon or whoever else you need to and know that I was telling the truth and didn’t say anything to anyone and never would’ve. I loved you, Michael. You were amazing today. You are so much stronger than you think or give yourself credit for. I’m proud of you. You should be proud of yourself even through all the hurt, Michael.”

“No.” Robby shakes his head. He’s too angry and hurt and grief stricken to see anything clearly or even truly process your words. He stoops so that he’s face to face with you and you’ve never seen Robby look this angry and hurt. He makes sure you’re looking at him dead in the eyes as he speaks. “No, you don’t get to call me Michael. Or Robby. It’s Dr. Robinavitch to you.” 

He stands back up, unlocks and throws the door open and walks back out. Like it’s nothing. Like he didn’t just issue you your very own scarlet letter by telling you that you can only call him by his full name and title, a stark contrast to the intimacy of Michael and even the casualness of Robby that everyone, except for you now, gets to call him. Like he didn’t just break up with you. Like he didn’t just shatter your heart. Like you’re not even worth hearing out or having an actual conversation with or listening to. Like you’re nothing. 

Pretty fucking cruel of the world for it to end where it started. In this supply closet. 

You lock the door behind him and slide down it, give yourself a few minutes to quietly sob, thoughts racing. But you don’t want to do this here. You can’t and you won’t. You open a pack of gauze and use it to clean off your face, unlock the door and peek through it until you see a good moment and sprint to the bathroom. 

You press a cold paper towel beneath your eyes. You know it’s probably pointless but maybe it’ll help a little. You’re focusing on thinking about how to get out of here and have the least number of people see you as possible. After a few minutes you toss the towel, splash some cold water on your face and dry off. You stare at yourself in the mirror. Marginally better, you guess. 

You slip out of the bathroom and look around. You should tell someone you’re leaving. The only two you decide you’ll be able to bring yourself to talk to are Jack and Dana. You spot Jack first.

“Hey,” you greet Jack as you walk up to him. Janey has arrived and Robby’s over talking with her so the hub is free of him for now. “I’m heading out.”

Jack looks up at you. To anyone else it would seem like he didn’t react. But you know him well enough to see the slightest raise of his eyebrows and the corners of his lips turn down. You have a fake smile plastered on your face and even with the damage control you did in the bathroom, someone would have to be an idiot to look at you and not know you’d been crying. And you know Jack is far from an idiot. 

You know he knows when his eyes leave you and go to Robby and then back to you. “Okay… We’ll probably do some sort of debrief and then I’m sure some people will go to the park. Robby’s probably going to be here for a little bit yet.”

“I figured, yeah.” You nod. “Thanks Jack.” You spin and start walking away before Jack can say anything further or Robby can walk back over or even look in your direction. You don’t want to feel it. You have enough already. His glare at you, livid and disappointed and betrayed and disdained and hurt. And even though you know why he’s with her, seeing him with his ex is hard. Especially when you realize you’re now just another ex for him to be seen with too. 

You wonder if they’ll bond over their fear for Jake before they knew he was okay and get back together as you walk to your locker. You grab your backpack and take the back way out to limit the chances of anyone seeing you and manage to hit the street without encountering anyone else.

You have a few things of Robby’s in your locker that you’ll have to figure out how to return to him. More things at your place. You’re going to have to go home and still see him. Have his presence there. Thinking about it makes tears sting at your eyes. But you refuse to break down until you get home, you won’t do it even out here. You need to be home before you break down. About any of it. Robby or the mass casualty incident you just went through. And it’ll mostly be about Robby. Probably 99%. You’re numb to whatever it is you saw and went through, focused on losing Robby.

And as brokenhearted and sad and hurt you are, part of you is mad. That Robby could even think you would do such a thing, much less believe it enough to accuse you of it and end your entire relationship over it without a real conversation. You know it was a bad day for him. Beyond a bad day. Probably one of the worst days of his life. But that’s not an excuse or justification for how he treated you. He didn’t even listen to you, wouldn’t even contemplate it being possible that someone else saw him and he just didn’t see. 

Part of you knows that with the day being what it was and what it became, Robby’s mind was trying to protect himself. That his mind could only see loss and grief and convinced him that you were going to leave him at the end of the day after seeing him like that in pedes. So when he saw an opportunity to control it, to set the terms of losing and grieving you, he took it and didn’t ask any questions. 

Robby does not want to gather everyone and give some kind of debriefing speech, but he knows he has to say something to everyone. Once everyone is gathered he starts talking and as he looks around the group he realizes you’re not there. He tells himself he doesn’t care but he absolutely does. Even with how much you hurt him he misses you. He wishes you were here to ground him a little. He thinks he could forgive you, especially if you had an explanation. Maybe you didn’t mean to say as much as you did to whoever. 

But as everyone walks away and goes back to whatever they were doing he slips back into anger because it’s an easier emotion to process and feel at the moment. You’re an attending now. It’s your job to be here for things like this. To stay for debriefings. No matter what might’ve happened in your personal life. 

So when he feels his phone vibrate and pulls it out and sees it’s you calling him he rolls his eyes  and sends it straight to voicemail on the second ring. And he gets annoyed when you don’t leave a message and immediately call him again. This time he just lets it ring until it hits voicemail. Maybe you’ll get the hint this time, he thinks. He figures you must because you don’t leave a message again and don’t try calling him a third time or send a text. Robby gets involved in another case with Jack and one with Mel and doesn’t think much of it. An hour and a half passes in the blink of an eye.

When he walks out of one of the trauma rooms and stops at the hub the exhaustion finally slams into him full force. He’s hungry too, can feel his blood sugar dropping. His ability to regulate and deal with his emotions is going further out the window with both of those developments. Which, he presumes, is why when he sees Langdon walking towards the ambulance bay doors to leave he walks over to him quickly. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Robby glances down at his watch. “I told you to leave over two fucking hours ago!”

“Why the fuck do you care? I’m leaving now.” Langdon doesn’t stop walking. 

Robby stands there for a second watching Langdon walk away. He needs to know he was right. That it was in fact you who told Langdon. 

“Hey!” Robby yells at Langdon and walks to catch up with him. “Who fucking told you?” He knows Langdon will know what he’s talking about.

“I’m not fucking telling you,” Langdon laughs dryly. “Unlike some people here I’m not going to rat out-”

Robby interrupts him by saying your name. “Was it her?”

Langdon laughs, shaking his head at Robby before he apparently realizes the question is serious. “You can’t be fucking serious.” Robby’s lack of response makes it clear he is serious. “Of course it wasn’t her! She would absolutely never spread shit about you, especially something like that. Someone else saw you in there on the floor firsthand. They’re glass fucking doors, Robby!” Langdon lets out an incredulous laugh. 

Fuck. Fuck. Robby’s heart drops into his sinking stomach and everything starts to spin, his extremities turning to ice. He knows Langdon is telling him the truth. He knows he monumentally fucked up. He just broke up with you for nothing. He just destroyed your heart for nothing. He just shattered the most precious and important and meaningful person in his life. He just imploded everything for no fucking reason. 

He just lost the best things in his life, your relationship and you, the person who kept him going. And he has nobody to blame but himself. 

He vaguely hears Langdon start to say something else to him but he’s taking a deep breath to try to get his dizziness to pass and walking back inside. Robby thinks about how he spoke to you. The words he said. How he barely let you say anything and didn’t listen to what he did let you say. He’s not sure if the two of you can recover from this. He’s not sure he deserves you giving him a second chance. If anything, he’s more sure he doesn’t. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try, if he doesn’t apologize and ask for a second chance. 

His eyes skim across everyone on the floor he can see once he’s back inside. He walks by most of the rooms and doesn’t see you in with any patients. You’re not in the breakroom. Maybe the bathroom. He doesn’t want to stand around waiting though. 

The roof. You saw him go up to the roof this morning because that’s where Jack was getting some air. He’d told you he was going up there to talk with Jack. Maybe you’re up there trying to clear your head. As he gets to the elevator and presses the up button it hits Robby. You could be standing on that ledge. You could be thinking about jumping. About disappearing from his life permanently. About really and truly leaving him forever. Nothing left but a grave to visit.

The only thing that stops Robby from turning to give into the feeling and be sick in the trash can is the elevator doors opening. He slips inside and hits the button for the roof, holding the close door button down the entire way up as though it really does anything. He tries to tell himself he’s just projecting his feelings onto you and that he has no reason to think you’re on the ledge.

Robby can’t decide whether he’s relieved that you’re not on the roof. Certainly he’s relieved you’re not on the ledge but it means he still doesn’t know where you are. He stands in the middle of the roof sucking in huge breaths of air trying to come down from the panic that’s starting to consume him. It’s not really working though. It’s just turning into hyperventilating. 

“Well you’re almost in my spot,” Jack calls to Robby as he walks out onto the roof. “What is going on? She-”

“I fucked up Jack,” Robby blurts out. “I fucked up so so badly and I don’t, I don’t know if I can fix it.” He slips completely into hyperventilating at this point as it plays in his head again. Him destroying everything in that supply closet. 

“Okay you’re having a panic attack, Michael-”

“No, no I’m not, I’m not, I’m just,” he’s shaking at this point, his body and his voice, “I just lost her and I, I, I…” Robby can barely put that three word phrase together. 

“I promise you that you are having a panic attack, Michael, believe me I know.” Jack steps in front of Robby and catches his gaze. “You have to follow my breathing, okay?” Robby shakes his head for a second and squeezes his eyes closed trying to fight back tears before starting to nod. “Look at me.” Robby opens his eyes and watches Jack. He watches Jack’s exaggerated breathing and tries to follow it. By focusing so hard on following Jack’s breathing Robby’s mind stills for a few moments. “Alright, better?” Robby nods at him. “What the fuck happened?”

Robby’s quiet for a moment and turns and takes a step so that he’s not facing Jack anymore. It’s a little too much. “I broke today. During the middle of it all, after Leah.” Robby’s voice cracks on her name. “She found me crying on the fucking floor in pedes and helped me get through it and back.” Robby pauses and lets out a huffed laugh. “For this to make sense I have to tell you that Langdon’s addicted to pain meds and stealing meds. Fucking, I don’t even know what to say about that right now.” He can see Jack’s slightly surprised expression out of the corner of his eye. “Anyway, after everything calmed down Langdon and I had it out in the ambulance bay and he threw it in my face. What happened in pedes.”

“Mmmm,” Jack cringes in acknowledgment. Robby knows he knows where this is about to go. 

“She was the only one I saw see me in there. So I assumed she told fucking Langdon or someone else who then told him. That she was gossiping about it.” Robby shrugs and sniffles. “I dragged her into that fucking supply closet with me and lost it. Asked her how could she, told her I couldn’t believe her, all while she was looking at me confused which just pissed me off more in the moment. She said it wasn’t her but I wasn’t listening. I barely let her speak. And then,” Robby pauses, lips trembling hard. “And then she said she loves me and is proud of me and she ended her last sentence with Michael and all I said was that she didn’t get to call me Michael or Robby. That it was Dr. Robinavitch to her. Then I walked out. I saw Langdon just now and he told me it wasn’t her and I know he was telling the truth.” Robby takes in and lets out a big breath quickly, sniffling again and wiping some tears away. “So I broke up with her and broke her heart for nothing. And I’ve been trying to find her to apologize as if she’ll ever take me back. She shouldn’t. I know she shouldn’t but I have to try Jack.” Robby looks over at him. “I have to try.” 

Jack takes in a deep breath and lets it out. He looks like he’s trying to decide what to respond to first. He runs a hand through his hair and then drops his hands to his hips. “Yeah,” he draws the word out. “That’s…” he sighs. “You guys might be able to work this out. It’s very obvious she knows you and how you think, better than you probably, and she is so fucking in love with you,” he tries to give Robby a somewhat reassuring smile, “so, I don’t know. You have to try, I agree. But she left, Robby.” Jack glances at his watch. “Two hours ago.” 

“What?” Robby whispers, turns back to face Jack. He glosses over everything Jack said to try and give him hope because he can’t take any possibility of false hope right now, as much as he knows Jack wouldn’t lie to him. 

“When you were talking to Janey. She came up to me at the hub, looking like she’d just had the conversation you described with you and said she was leaving.” Jack shrugs. “I said we’d do a debrief and some people would probably go to the park after and that you’d be here for a bit yet and she said she figured that and thanks and walked away.”

“Did you actually see her leave?” Robby doesn’t know why the thought of you leaving and being at home in your bed sobbing, or having already sobbed yourself to sleep makes it all feel worse. 

“No-” 

“So she could still be here.” Robby nods as he says it. “She could have gotten involved in a case or something and not left yet.” He starts walking back to the elevator. 

“Theoretically,” Jack agrees. “I think she probably left, Robby. You know her locker code? See if her stuff is there.” 

“Yeah, yeah I do.” Robby nods as they step in the elevator. “That’s good, that’s a good idea.” He’s praying that your stuff will still be there. That you’re not at home alone crying over him and how he treated you and the end of your relationship. Because he doesn’t want that. He’s not sure anymore if that’s really what he wanted when he was so sure you gossiped about it. 

As soon as he’s off the elevator Robby’s speed walking to the lockers, Jack following behind at a more normal pace. Robby hears Jack stop a few feet behind him as he opens your locker. Your stuff is gone. You’re gone. At home alone. Just like he didn’t want. 

“Michael,” you pant as his lips move down your neck and to your collarbone where he sucks a bruise into your skin making you moan softly again. “We should stop, you, you should go home and get some sleep before work.” The hand in his hair tugs at it to get him to look at you. 

It’s the night of your first date. After dinner you guys came back to your place. It started with just sitting and chatting on the couch, having another drink. Then you started kissing as you talked. Then you were kissing more than you were talking. Then you straddled him. And now he’s laying on top of you on your couch, bracing himself with his arms to not put too much of his weight on you. You have to have been making out like this for the better part of an hour. You’ve both been shamelessly grinding into each other, pulling little sounds you’ve always wanted to hear from the other. Robby’s painfully hard. Your underwear has to be soaked through or close to it. 

“What?” Robby’s already halfway gone, mind hazy with thoughts of you. It takes a second for what you said to process. “What? No first date sex for me?” he pants softly. You know he’s teasing you, that he truly didn’t come here with any expectations and he would absolutely never pressure you. 

“Nope.” You smile at him as you pop the ‘p.’

Robby groans a little at you as he moves off of you to sit normally on the couch, helping you sit up next to him. “Why not?” He pushes his bottom lip out at you a little as you climb into his lap. “That hardly seems fair.”

You give his bottom lip a quick nip before kissing it. “Because I care about you and this. Us.” 

“But if there’s already an us…” he trails off with a raise of his brows at you. “And we’ve been basically dating for four years.” You snort a laugh and give him a look. “Okay, we’ve been close friends with feelings for each other for four years. That should count for something right?” He lets one hand rest at your hip and the other in your lap. 

“In a way, yes, of course it does.” You run your hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp a little just to see the way his eyes flutter closed. “I still need to keep you interested though. Make sure you have a reason to ask me out again and keep me around.”

Robby scoffs as he opens his eyes. He gives you a look. “Kid, you really think that after pining for you and dreaming about you for four fucking years that I’m going to finally get inside of you and then just decide I’m romantically done with you?”

You shiver at his words and the thought of him inside of you. “Maybe I won’t be good in bed or you won’t feel a spark or it’ll be flat.”

Robby lets out a breath as he takes your face in his hands. “I can pretty much guarantee you none of that will be the case.  Having sex with you is just going to make me more obsessed with you, Kid.”

You nod, give him a small smile and lean into one of his hands. “Maybe I just like torturing you.” A slow smirk pulls onto your face. “You made me wait four years. And yes I understand and respect and appreciate why. But I still think it means you can take me on a date for every year you made me wait, and then maybe I’ll let you put your cock inside of me, Michael.”

He groans, dropping his hands back to your hip and lap where they were. “So breakfast, lunch and dinner dates tomorrow?” 

You giggle at him, lean in and give him a kiss. You love knowing how desperate he is. It makes you feel good. But while you and Robby have known each other and been dancing around this for four years, that’s almost what makes you feel like the sex is going to be more meaningful and like for some reason you should wait just a couple of dates. Because you could fall in love with Robby. Because you know you already are starting to fall in love with him. That you have been since you met him. 

“No.” You shake your head at him. “But that was a great try.”

“Can I at least do four days in a row?” he whines. 

You hum in fake thought for a few seconds. “I’ll allow that.”

“Good.” Robby leans in and kisses you again, deepens it when you open your mouth a little for him when his tongue presses at your lips. He’ll never get enough of this. Enough of you. He pulls away just a little before you’re both desperate for air and rests his forehead against yours. “I’m going to make you break before the fourth date.” 

You chuckle. “Oh, Michael, Michael, Michael.” You pull your forehead from his and give him an almost sympathetic look. “You should know better than to challenge me by now. Because now that you’ve said it, I absolutely won’t let you break me.” 

“Yeah,” he sighs the word, “I was trying so hard to be hot and sexy for you I forgot how incredibly stubborn you are.” 

You roll your eyes at him playfully. “You know you don’t have to try, Michael. You just are hot and sexy.” 

He just hums at you and squeezes your hip and thigh. “Come on, I’ll go. We both do need to sleep before work.” You sigh a little about it as you get off his lap and stand up. You don’t really want him to leave but you know it’s better to do it this way. “I’m gonna use your bathroom before I leave.” Robby kisses the top of your head as he passes you. 

You get a thought and slip to your kitchen while Robby’s in your bathroom, quickly getting your bottoms off. You make sure your underwear adequately reflects how turned on and wet you got just from making out with him and then them off and get your bottoms back on. You tuck the underwear in the back of your waistband and pull your shirt down over them. 

You wait for Robby on the armrest of your couch, smiling at him when he reappears. The two of you walk to your door together. “I had a really great time tonight, Michael.” You’re smiling so widely your cheeks hurt. 

“So did I, Kid. The best time.” Robby’s hands find your waist again, just holding you gently. “Will you go on a second date with me?” he asks like you don’t both already know the answer. 

“You know it.” Your smile somehow widens a little more and you have to fight to get it off your face so that Robby can kiss you when he starts leaning down and in. Neither of you are surprised or mad when the kiss turns into making out for a couple of minutes in front of your door. 

You break apart naturally when you need air and you let your forehead fall to rest on Robby’s chest. After a second you pull back. 

“Here.” You grab your underwear from your waistband. You let them dangle off your finger for a second to make sure Robby knows exactly what they are. “To get you through the night and proof you don’t need to try to be hot and sexy.” You smirk at him as you shove them in his pocket. “Took them off while you were in the bathroom. You can feel they’re still warm. And maybe if you’re good you’ll get a pair at the end of each date.”

Robby swallows hard, breathing picking up a little just at the beginnings of thoughts of what he could do with them at home and how you’ll know he’s doing something with them and how you want him to. He presses his palm against his pocket. They’re still warm like you said. A blush creeps up his neck to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He has to close his eyes for a second as he tries to regulate a bit. “You’re gonna kill me, Kid,” Robby breathes out. 

“I’m a doctor, remember? I would never let that happen.” You and Robby exchange soft laughs as he opens the door. “Text me when you get home safely please. Or on your way home.” You grin at him. 

“I will.” Robby nods at you. You lean up and give him a soft and lingering kiss. It’s simple, but the perfect way to end the night. 

“Have a good night, Michael.”

“Have a good night, Kid.”

There’s very little thought to it. Robby just follows the instinct that tells him to run after you. Doesn’t grab his backpack. Doesn’t say another word to Jack. He just turns and runs. 

Robby knows that you’ll be at your place. That you won’t have gone to a bar or something. You’ll just want to be alone. He hates himself for it, hates the thought, can picture you curled up alone and crying or sniffling heavily in your sleep because you finally cried yourself out. 

He books it to your place, comes close to being hit once or twice when making a few unwise crossing decisions. He’s panting hard by the time he gets to your building and fumbles with his key to get in the main door, taking the stairs two at a time as he hauls ass up to the third floor. He’s running on sheer adrenaline. 

He doesn’t take a moment to collect himself when he gets to your door, just starts knocking. When you don’t answer he uses his key to let himself in. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows he should respect you not wanting to see him and wanting to be alone right now, but he needs to see you and apologize and make everything okay again. 

But your apartment is dark when he steps in. Hot. Like the AC has been off because you’ve been at his the past week. You’d have turned the AC on if you were here. He checks anyway though. But you’re not there. Not in your bed or the shower or on your couch. And so Robby’s left a sweaty and panting mess as he closes your bedroom door and leans back against it. 

He tries to take a moment to calm down, get his breath back, some focus back so he can think about where else you might be. But he can’t. 

Instead, Robby slides down your bedroom door, bringing his knees to his chest and starting to cry again. Just like he did in pedes. It’s more sobbing this time, especially because of how hard it is to breathe, how out of breath he was before he started crying. Some of his tears are for the loss, Adamson and Leah, for his guilt at giving Jake his other ticket and thoughts that it should have been him to get shot and not Leah, for the damage to his relationship with Jake, for Langdon, for breaking down in the middle of an MCI and letting his team down. 

But most of them are for you. The loss of you. The way he’s already grieving you while praying and hoping and wishing that he’ll be able to stop, that you’ll take him back and so he won’t have to keep grieving the loss of you in his life. For accusing you of something horrible like that. For yelling at you. For the way he snapped at you all day. The way that, although you were quick to shut it down most times, he took out a lot of his emotions on you over the entire day. Took out his emotions on you who was only ever there for him whenever he needed it. Who kept him together and in check. Who saw only the best in him and stayed. Who saw the worst in him and stayed. Who was proud of him. Who he needs to survive this. And for the way, he realized on his run over as he replayed the scene in the supply closet over in his mind, your tense changed. You love him to you loved him. Love to loved. An audible breaking of your heart.  

Robby looks over at your kitchen. Maybe it would just be better for you and Jake and everybody if he just disappeared. If he just ceased to exist. He told you he wouldn’t. He promised you he wouldn’t. But maybe you want him to now. He’s tired of feeling. Of hurting. Without you he doesn’t really have anyone. Jake hates him. Jack and Dana will be fine without him. You have sharp enough knives. He knows exactly where to cut.

His phone ringing pulls him out of it for a second. He sniffles and clears his throat as he moves to pull his phone out of his pocket. He knows it’s not you because you’d given yourself a special ringtone and it’s not the one playing.

It’s Jack. If you’re there at the hospital still with Jack then he won’t. He’ll keep his promise and run back. Apologize. Beg. Grovel. Anything. Everything. 

“Did you hear from her?” There’s no greeting. Robby’s straight to the question. 

“Robby, she’s here.” Jack’s voice is strained. He sounds exhausted, but more emotionally than anything. He sounds pained. Like speaking these words is physically and emotionally hurting him. He didn’t sound like that when Robby left. But Robby brushes it all aside.

“Oh fuck, okay thank you.” Robby lets out a sigh of relief and wipes at his face. He sniffles again and lets out a little laugh. Because at least he knows where you are. “Keep her there Jack, please. I don’t care how you do it, lock her in a room or use restraints, just keep her there. I need to talk to her. I need-”

“No, not like that,” Jack tells him, voice clipped, still strained. “Like-” Jack gets interrupted. Robby can hear what sounds like a door opening, muffled movement and beeping of monitors. He can just make out a female voice tell Jack ‘she’s seizing again.’ Jack’s voice is muffled like he’s holding the phone away from him but Robby can hear him say ‘yes’ to what sounded like the shout of a medication order, followed by Jack yelling ‘and where the fuck is neuro?’ 

“Fuck. You need to get here, Michael.” Jack rushes it out but Robby recognizes Jack’s tone clear as day because he’s used it so many times himself. 

It’s the tone they use when stressing to family members that they need to get to the hospital as quickly as humanly possible because a loved one is about to die. 

Tears start to stream down Robby’s face again because he knows. Robby knows exactly what Jack means when he repeats it. “She’s here.”

I know. 😶🥲😶‍🌫️😭

I've affectionately called this Robby's No Man's Land. It was named the same way too. Obviously there will be a Part 2 unless nobody wants one. 😂 I PROMISE that what happened in NML Part 2 will not be repeated in the Part 2 to this.

I hope it was okay and that you were able to enjoy! Again, I really love hearing your thoughts and comments, they give me serotonin and motivation and inspiration!! Liking, replies and reblogging are always so so appreciated! My inbox and DMs are always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming (or (lovingly) screaming at me I suppose)! 🙂

Want more Pitt content? Check out my masterlist here!

Want to be added to my Robby tag list? Interact with this post!

Just a note that if you're on my Jack tag list I'm doing a separate one for Robby in case people don't want to get notified for both men. To get tagged in both Robby and Jack fics make sure you interact with each of the two posts!

Want to be added to my Jack tag list? Interact with this post!

Tag list:

@robbyslittlelamb @luvr4miya @starkgaryan @misshoneypaper @livingavilaloca @evermoresivy @fuyu-no-kodomo @duck-duck-goose-18 @blueblizzardreview @alexxavicry @antithetical-bolter @blackirisesinthesunlight @readingaroundworlds @ezraphalitis @nfwmb-gvf @chillicrackers @saturnluvvr @twdband @duck-duck-goose-18 @goodmorninggraz @nerdyberserkerrook @concentratedconcrete @ailujsenutna @furiouscherryblossomchaos @xxemmarldxx @nattalinas @dipdeedoda @shaydawgsblog @taylorswifts-cardigan @tenderclio @crabbygabby @sparklypeacecolor @lemonchivesfagefritter @obsessed-fan-alert @witchywafflewhip @voidsxntry @00-sleepy-golden-storm-00 @kryzetano @jacksabbots @shrinkingheads-blog-blog @seeminglyincurablesadnes @qardasngan @phoenixhalliwell @minos-minotaur @cavillary @thescooby-gang @londonbeachgirl 

[nextinline-if]

A Message from Vi (Next in Line IF)

Hi everyone,

I know that I've been away a while and haven't updated the game. Long story short? A while ago, I was laid off from my job, lost my health insurance (and access to therapy and other services), and have been focused heavily on finding a new job while also battling severe mental health struggles. After starting therapy, getting diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and starting medication, I was finally finding a good balance. But losing my job reverted a lot for me and I lost my income and health access.

So, I am really, truly sorry for not being around for a while. I am still trying to find a job though I have a final interview tomorrow and I'm really hoping I get an offer.

But I have been on hiatus because of these personal issues. This time has also given me some time to think about Next in Line and how to move forward with it. Because I think about the game and this community all the time. I miss it. I miss working on it. I miss engaging with all of you.

So, you can expect a new message here in the coming week. I think it's important to be transparent and honest with you. The game will be continuing but every time I work on it, I feel incredibly overwhelmed by the scope. As many of you know, Next in Line, was my first interactive fiction. And because of the excitement, I put a ton of pressure on myself to offer all kinds of things like pets, a ton of scenes with all these combinations, places to visit, etc. Essentially, I created a massive, overwhelming amount of scene combinations and character configurations. Because of this, I have struggled to create updates these last couple years, because it physically overwhelms me to the point where I mentally short wire and just can't do it. My anxiety when it comes to the game sends me spiraling because I'm terrified of never living up to the expectations I set.

So, next week, I will be providing you with a scaled back plan for the game. I'll include details on what's staying and what's not. I know it's going to suck for me to say 'hey, this won't be a part of the game anymore' but I have to do this if I want to actually deliver the content. Once that game is actually finished, there's always possibility things could get added back.

Anyway, talk soon. Feel free to submit your thoughts and questions related to this. I'll review and answer the best I can.

-Vi

[kaorucup]

wander....but he's a magical boy!!! (AU)

these are all drawings for my new au where wander becomes a magical boy :] keep reading below to know what it's all about, and I'll explain a bit of what you see above!

Story

(I actually don't have a lot of lore planned for this so bear with me if something doesn't make sense 😔)

Early on into his journeys through galaxies (like say maybe a few years after his big traumatic incident), Wander follows a shooting star to where it falls. Upon coming close to it, he's temporarily blinded by its strong flash of light. When he wakes up again, he realizes everything about him is.... different.

Soon enough, Wander realizes he has powers now, so he does what does best— help others out! Now with a cute fit on :]

What Would Wander Do.....In Battle?

Here's a quick segment to explain how Wander acts in battle! Because as you might know, some magical girls actively throw hands with their monster of the week. What would Wander do if he's a pacifist? The answer is that he's great at defending himself against attacks and strictly does purification attacks that don't hurt the enemy, they just cleanse the enemy of evil. Though, most of the time these purifications are more for like monsters of the week because the villains in control tend to just flee when Wander starts pulling out his banjo. (If you're familiar with Precure, you'd know this is literally just how the Wonderful team "fights".) On the topic of the banjo, you might have seen that alt text i put on the picture of it. The banjo can be turned into the staff you see there, used for the aforementioned purification attacks. Think of how he used the banjo against Screwball in "The Boy Wander". Those are basically his powers.

On the topic of Screwball, this all gets thrown out the window when it comes to him, though. Expect Wander to try and actively attack this guy.

Development

a while back, one of my favorite artists in the WOY community made a wander au, and I was like, "holy moly.....i wanna make a wander au too!!" so since may, I've been designing a magical boy outfit for wander! as I researched and referenced for the design, I was genuinely this close to just putting the guy in a cute skirt (we've seen him rock feminine outfits before, i wouldn't turn down the idea). the challenge of designing a magical boy outfit was entertaining, though, so I stuck to it. after a LOOOOT of trial and error, i finally landed on the one you see now, and i'm pretty satisfied with it (trying to design things around this guy's proportions is NUTS).

like always, i yapped what i needed to yap (I think)!! if you have any questions about the au feel free to ask me. i would have LOVED to shove every little detail in here but I think the post is already long enough as is, so yeah I hope you liked this concept for my AU :]

[lilyw0lf]

I think I'm missing some context, but I've been seeing a bit of controversy about the LU and LoZ fandom this past couple of days and I'm pretty sure that this issue comes from way back.

And I just want to say that most of the people that I've met in this fandom are so sweet and welcoming. Maybe I was just fortunate to interact with the right people, but I know for sure that those little interactions have been what makes me love this fandom so much. I think a healthy community is even more important than the source material when it comes to shape one's vision of a fandom, at least for me.

I must confess that I've been a lurker for most of the time that I've been here, mostly because my own fear of giving my opinion or asking questions that could seem dumb and not wanting to go out of my confort zone. That said, I couldn't have been more wrong.

If you are new to a fandom, and not just LU or LoZ, any fandom, or even if you've been here for a while and you are just a fellow lurker I want to tell you:

Don't be afraid of interacting with other people

Don't be afraid of giving your opinion

Don't be afraid to create

Don't be afraid to share

And don't be afraid of asking questions

I can't promise you that you won't encounter a jerk sometimes, but mostly you will find great people willing to share their own opinions and knowledge with you. Who knows, you might meet some of your greatest friends that way.

The interactions between people are what define the hearth of a comunity. And that's why I want you to always try to be polite and treat everyone with kindness first.

Don't impose your own headcanons to anyone, hell don't even impose canon, people love to create and go wild with their own imagination and if that makes them happy let them be happy.

You can always share your knowledge about the games, LU or whatever you want, but please do it politely. The other person might not realise that their take on a character or story is not canon or they might know and just want to ignore it. And that's alright too, at the end of the day we are here to have fun. You can share your own headcanons if you want.

If you don't like something or a person is just being straight rude, then you can always block them, you have all the right to do it. But please try to make sure you don't become the one that's rude with others without reason.

Also about the games, you don't have to have played to every game to interact with the fandom, you don't have to have played to any of them if you want. You can just have read the comic and that's totally fine, like I said earlier if you want to know about something just ask politely, really don't be afraid to ask. And to the people that answers please don't be rude about it. Most people don't have the money or the time to play every game, but that doesn't mean that they can't learn about them if they are interested.

Don't assume anything about anyone, for all you know you could be talking with a literal child that just found something that seems cool and is so excited to learn more about it or to share their own stuff with others. And how would they feel if the first reaction they got to their question or opinion was a negative one? And not just children, anyone who wanted to interact with a fandom and just got rude reactions would probably just want to go away and not even want to keep learning about the thing that had them so excited. So please, please always try to be mindful with others, you don't know their circunstances, kindness shoud always be tried first.

And mostly to new users but this goes to everyone, about taging no LU stuff as LU, please if you are not sure try to check the original tags before reblogging. It takes just a few seconds and is the best way to avoid confussion and innecesary arguments. On the other side, if you see someone misstaging let them know, but please do it politely, they might be new and not understand how the tagging works.

What I want to say with all of this is please always try to be kind, everyone has their own circunstances. Don't let issues like these that can be easily avoided rot the core of a beautiful comunity. You'll find some people that are just jerks, is unavoidable on any group of people, but don't let them make you become one of them, just block and keep living your life. Most people are sweet and great and it's a pity if you miss out on everything good just because a few idiots.

[theotherrookie]

"They never do. I don't get why adults are like that with kids." Erica grumbled, "Well, that served him right. He should be thankful he can still see other people holding mops or anything else. I used to scratch those who picked on isolated survivors."

She tried liking everybody, but she simply couldn't stomach bullies. They should be better people if they didn't want their butts kicked.

"Oh, I just dress comfy for myself and for Smokey. He used to sleep in the hole on my back, but I don't have it anymore. So we need pockets now." Erica explained, "Oh, I see! Russell always gets in trouble, uh? But I'm glad he's going to be okay."

She scratched at the tip of her ear as she tried to recall anything about the accident Travis had mentioned. "Hey, Willow, how long have we known Russell?"

Willow, of course, provided an answer without hesitation. "Rook met Russell about six years ago. However, the accident in question was never mentioned to me, which might imply she isn't aware of that particular misadventure. It isn't the sort of topic one would so casually discuss with a person they only recently met."

Rook would have definitely brought it up at some point. The topic of Russell's ability to get in dangerous situations and narrowly escaping it had been discussed often over the years and neither had been able to provide an explanation on how he managed to do that.

"And I met him later because I was still figuring stuff out after Willow found a way to reverse my zombieness."

"We were all very busy at the time." Willow said, leaning back, "To think I was only two years old then. Time really does fly outside the matrix."

"You know, we could watch that show together." Erica offered, "It'd be the first time for me!"

Rook stopped to look around while the pocket kept shifting to create a suitable way out of there.

"That would become unbearable quickly. The first thing I did when I learned there was a way to interact with this place was removing the echo." Rook said, "I really didn't have a great time the first time I got stuck in here. It took mum half a day to notice I was missing."

"I only had control over a limited portion of this place. Chick had to keep busy rearranging all my supplies." Veronica added.

But of course, everything had changed when Rook had retrieved one of their lost books from the clutches of the Brotherhood. They finally had access to a powerful tool that made their activities far easier and were a bit closer to unlocking other hunting techniques previously lost to time.

The last few blocks fell into place just as Bill was sent off to enjoy the panoramic view. Veronica figured she would make herself useful while they waited for Rook to tend to her business and shifted her focus to keeping their surroundings stable while they lingered there.

"Alchemy has always been one of our strongest suit. I dare say Erika has a natural talent for it." Veronica said, pride evident in her tone.

Rook wasn't feeling particularly proud of herself, but still managed a small nod. "I'm alright. I see you guys found my pile of gold without the rainbow. Do you want some?"

The coin shined and felt like the real deal. It was made of gold of the highest quality and with both sides decorated with a crude rendition of a bird's foot.

Rook went ahead and dug up a candy scoop she then used to fill a small bag with coins under Lucien's very intrigued gaze. She closed the bag by pulling the strings at the sides, then offered it to Antonio.

"I've got plenty to spare. I really don't mind."

"The one he picked might be worth more than the entire pile, dear."

"Let me splurge, mum. I'm trying to ignore my feelings right now."

Unable to resist to the shiny himself, Lucien quietly took the scoop from her and started filling another bag for himself.

"Oh, please, don't make compliments." Rook said, nudging him with her boot.

"Get off my back. I can make a lovely pendant for Russell with these." The half fae hastily pushed back with his arm, before scooping up a few more coins.

"Then they wonder why kids hate schools." Erica grumbled, "I bet they still tell the story of what you did! That guy must be scared of mops too now."

It still wasn't as satisfying as the guy getting skewered or having the mop broken over his head, but it was enough to get the point across.

"You hardly have the need to go unnoticed, Travis. One look at you is enough to discourage many from trying their luck." Willow pointed, "Erica was raised to hunt. It's only natural for her to be conspicuous despite her wardrobe."

"Yeah, sometimes I scare people by accident." Erica confirmed. Perhaps that choice of words was by accident as well. "If those were the second and third, what was the best news you got?"

"The afterlife is extensive. However, she most likely wouldn't mind making an attempt." Willow reassured, "Mother likes you as well as your brothers. That means her usual attentions will be extended to you all as well."

The need for closure would move the ghost lady most of all. Veronica would have agreed in a heartbeat, if only she still had a heart.

Willow considered her options, before tapping into the radio again. The car lacked the charm and bite of the real deal, but she hoped Travis was familiar with KITT. She hated wasting a good reference.

"Come on, Travis! You can't leave me hanging like this. I'm a marvelous car, but I can't do all the heavy lifting myself. That's your specialty."

Erica's ears perked up. "I know that voice! It's that talking car who hung out with that guy from SpongeBob!"

Willow smiled as she tossed her hair back, "I felt like going for a classic this time."

It seemed like these were typical shenanigans between the two of them.

The pocket dimension was very barren, but was far from still. The fog quietly parted as they walked, flowing all around them like an intricate network of streams. It was something Rook found calming in small doses, though her attention was focused elsewhere.

"There's no ugly moquette or buzzing lights either." Rook added, "It can be too quiet at times. Not that hearing distant noises would be any better. I guess it's good for reading, Antonio can probably attest to that. Or not– I'm still waiting for your review of your stay in my liminal closet."

It seemed like a nice way to divert the attention away from some rather unpleasant memories. That wasn't the time or place to start that argument and most of all, she didn't think Lucien should have been present to provide his opinion on the matter. The fae could be awfully unhelpful at times.

Though Bill was being just as helpful, in his own way. Veronica hadn't meant to follow up on her threat, but now she simply had to.

"Too many underestimate the importance of sound values when parenting." Veronica paused, her gaze trailing over at the inevitable duck comment, "You're simply hopeless."

And about to take a ride in the hard to discern void slide. Rook wasn't the only one able to mess with gravity there. Bill could take a ride and think about the consequences of his own actions.

Lucien was simply glad he wasn't the one falling into oblivion. He would simply turn the other way and let Rook have her moment of privacy so she could replenish her magic battery.

"Oh, I see you started synthesizing gold." he told Veronica.

"It's an old family recipe." Veronica replied, "It's a shame we can only use it sparingly these days."

Rook could do nothing but stand for a moment to watch the way everybody was ready to give her some space. It meant more than she was willing to admit. Then again, she never got too sentimental when her marks whenever she started feeling drained.

Rook silently turned and took a few steps away from the group, before there was a shift in the pocket to reveal one of the few monsters she had the time to catch lately. It looked like a hybrid between some kind of reptile and a rodent with a mantis-like head. It didn't really matter what it was or where it came from. She had found it trying to eat some poor schmuck and it had almost slashed her wing off with its claws. Now it was going to do something useful for a change.

"Imagine if Five found you instead." She would probably be starving. There was another shift as a bright light engulfed the monster, before it vanished into a swirly cloud of energy that was absorbed by her marks.

Rook took a moment to simply breathe, before turning back. "I… I'm done."

She didn't want to drag this on to avoid making it more awkward than it was.

[makixroll]

Just thought about reader and her parents moving into their new house, and harua and his family are their neighbors. Both of them are around the same age (reader is a year younger) and their families bonded quite well, leading to them hanging out often 🤭 (just some cute thoughts/story)

SNEAKY KISSES — harua ۫ ꣑ৎ

pairing . . . harua x fem!reader

contents . . . strangers to friends to ??? , fluff , reader is a year younger , lwk cringe , mentions of nii-chan (in a cute and cringe way) , OKAY IM RLLY SORRY I KNOW this was supposed to be a really cute cute super fluff story but i think uhm.... it didnt turn out that way? But still not TOO suggestive so yea i hope youll like it still

"You're a year younger than me? Then, you should call me onii-chan!" That's probably the first thing that 10 year old Harua told you when you first moved in the neighborhood at Nagano, Japan. Both parents laughed, finding what Harua said both funny and cute. But not to you, it wasn't funny to your 9 year old self. You stared at him, small arms folded together, your eyebrows furrowed as you pouted angrily at him.

"You're not my older brother!" You replied, filled with sass your parents didn't know where you got it from. Their eyes widened as your father patted your head, trying to stop you from talking any further as he laughed awkwardly.

Well, that was 10 years ago. Now, you're so close with Harua it felt like a crime trying to separate you two apart. He just turned 20, while you were still stuck at 19.

"Hey, now that I'm older than you again, you should really practice calling me onii-chan. You should respect me, y'know~" Harua, had once again, poke fun on your age. Although you could say that at least you weren't ancient old like him as a way to tease back, he always has something to say back. Like, "at least I know more and better than you since I've been in this earth before you." Or something like that. And it still never failed to get you riled up, you just hated it whenever he teases you.

Harua laid on the soft mattress of your bed right after finishing a whole two hours of game with you. His back hurts so much from the horrid sitting position he had from playing.

"God, you're so annoying." You mumbled, irritated as you rolled your eyes at him. The corner of Harua's lips rose up, loving the reaction he's getting from you. You then stood up from the cold floor and plopped on your bed, next to him. You two were staring quietly at the ceiling, trying to think of something else to do. Just after a good ten minutes of quietness, Harua broke the silence, with a question you've never expected in your ten years of being with him.

"Hey, Y/N, have you tried kissing anyone?" Harua asked, all of a sudden that caught you off-guard. He was now laying on his side, facing you as he used his hands as a pillow for his head.

You stared back at him, shocked. "What?"

"Have you tried it?" He asked again.

"... no, why?" You replied, almost in a whisper. Harua tried to contain his smile from spilling out as he propped himself up on his elbow, leaning closer to you.

"Me too.." He stated, Harua's eyes glancing down at your lips for a second before looking back at your eyes. Your breath hitched, heart pounding. You've never seen his face this close before. For some reason, he had grown more attractive in your eyes for the past few years, but you didn't think much of it since you realized everyone thinks Harua's attractive, and you thought it was just a normal thing.

"Do you wanna try it?" Harua asked once again, and you swore you were starting to malfunction with all his questions.

".... with who?" You whispered, still fully staring at him as he did too.

"You trust me, right?" And you already knew, way before his answer, that he was pertaining to himself. He was suggesting that you try to kiss him, to experience it.

"W-wha— I don't think I can fathom the thought of kissing you out of all people." You tried to regain your composure as you rolled your eyes at him, but still, you were nervous as hell.

"It's not that deep. Just a one small kiss, you're acting like you're going to give me your soul." Harua answered back, rolling his eyes as well. You fight back an urge to sassmouth him before you sighed.

"Fine, just one." You were oddly curious about it, too. And he was right, it was just one peck, not anything deeper than that. Plus, you trust him with your life, it wouldn't hurt doing this with him, right?

He smiled as he whispered, "just a peck." As if he was reassuring both you and him before he leaned down, planting his soft lips on yours. Harua didn't try to move, he stayed there, lips connected to yours for a few seconds before he leaned back, breaking the innocent kiss. You two were a blushing mess.

And maybe Harua lied about it just being a one time thing, 'cause now he finds himself planting a quick kiss on your lips everytime he gets the opportunity. Whenever he passed by you in an empty hallway, in between your games with him, even when his family would come over for dinner, he'd sneak in a quick kiss when no one's looking.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. You both did enjoy the sneaky kisses you two shared.

[sysig]

Feeling and looking good 🌈 (Patreon)

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[slushycoookie]

What's That Smell? ~ Logan Howlett x Fem! Reader

✩ Word Count: 3.1k

✩ Content: Worst!Logan and Hairdresser! Reader. Wade acts like he's innocent in this, but he's not. Pheromone perfume. Logan doesn't go feral, but he gets there. P in V. Vaginal Fingering. Squirting. MINORS DNI!!

✩ A/N: I had to write about my man reacting to pheromone perfume. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Commissions

“Happy birthday!”

Wade hands you a pink gift bag stuffed with sparkly tissue paper. “It's not my birthday.”

“You're so silly.” He waves you away with a sensible chuckle. “It's someone's birthday somewhere. Anyway, I saw this and thought of you.”

You pull out a small bottle of perfume decorated in a crystal clear color. The design looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint where you saw it. “Oh, thanks. I've been meaning to get some more perfume.”

“Well, the gods answered, and as your friend, I am known for reading my friend’s minds.”

You're pretty sure Logan brought it up to him one day, but you didn’t question it. You thanked him with a hug, and he mentioned something about doing a fashion show for Mary Puppins when he left your apartment.

It was nice of Wade to give you a gift. He's always been generous towards you since you were with Logan, but you didn’t expect something like this.

You even mentioned Wade's generosity to Logan later on, who gave a questionable raise of an eyebrow.

“Really? He bought you perfume?”

“Yeah.” You pull out the bag and show him the bottle. “Wasn't that sweet of him?”

Logan squints at the bottle, still not convinced. “I guess so.”

“You guess so.” You rolled your eyes. “Can’t you believe that he wanted to be nice? He doesn't seem like the type to play a cruel joke.”

“Cruel isn't the word I'd use.” He grumbles.

You place the pink gift bag back on your dresser, reminding yourself to use it the next time you go out.

That next time was for running errands. You had to restock the kitchen, enough to last you and your superhero boyfriend, who loves to eat and drink, for a couple of weeks. Plus, you needed to get more supplies for the salon. Logan would meet up with you at the store since he spent the night back at Wade's to prep for Mary Puppin's first day at doggy school. You could tell from the brief phone call last night that he was worn out.

You throw on an oversized t-shirt, leggings, and sneakers. Not the most attractive outfit. Before you left, your eyes landed on the gift bag. Harmlessly, you sprayed Wade's perfume behind your ears and the space between your bicep and forearm.

Running errands was serious for you. You weren't the biggest fan of spending hours at the store, wasting time grabbing groceries. Logan agreed with you on that front, as he didn’t want to waste time either.

Once you stepped foot inside the store, you were ready. With a list in hand, you were filled with total concentration. A few minutes later, there was a shift.

You received a lot more attention.

Many people coming up to you to tell you smell good. You just started in the produce aisle, and four people approached you. It surprised you the multitude of compliments you were getting despite having the appearance of a bum. Others were making conversation while you were trying to shop, asking you simple questions about good salad dressing brands. Or how many spices you have in your home. Trying to get closer to you.

One man didn't seem to get the hint that you were busy. He offered to help you with your groceries while you were in the cereal aisle. Logan's favorite brand of raisin bran was on a high shelf, causing said man to grab it for you. You were polite, but maybe you shouldn't have been, as he constantly hovered around you. Drawn to you for reasons you can't explain. Talking your ear off about whatever he could think of.

“You probably have your own shopping to do. I don't want to distract you.” You say, hoping politely declining him would make him take the hint.

“No, no, it's alright. I don't want to leave a defenseless person like you.”

You hold back at getting annoyed, “…it's a grocery store.”

“Still, I just think-”

“You got cotton in your fucking ears?” In a blink, Logan grabs the intruding guy by his shoulder, effortlessly pushing him away. “She didn't need any fucking help, bub.”

The guy scoffs, rolling his hips to make himself look more arduous, “And who are you?”

“Her boyfriend, who isn't afraid to make you a pathetic stain on the ground.”

You knew he meant it, but you also didn’t want to get banned as you really liked this store. The guy took the hint, leaving the cereal aisle like a defeated puppy.

“My hero.” You kiss Logan's cheek and see him sniff the air. He turns towards you, pupils almost blown. Before you can ask if he's alright, he grabs your wrist, smelling the space between your bicep and forearm. The action makes you laugh a little.

“What's that smell?” Logan takes a few more sniffs, and you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “It's sweet. Really fucking sweet.”

“O-Oh, I put on perfume today.” You didn't need to ask if he liked it as he was glued to your form, sniffing behind your ears, his breath fanning your neck.

“Is this new? I've never smelled this before.”

“Yeah, it's the one from Wade.”

Logan lets out a groan that sends straight to your core. Goosebumps coat your flesh, and you shudder when his hands creep under your shirt to feel your bare skin. His touch was hot, almost making your back arch. You had to remember you were in a grocery store. There were eyes on you two, and you had to regain some control, or else there'd be two new names on the sex offender list.

“Baby, we got things to do.”

You pull away from him, trying to ignore Logan's dejected face at the fact they had errands to run. He hardly said anything else after that. He delegated his role to being the silent shopper, pushing the cart and responding briefly whenever you talked to him. To anyone else, he gave off the appearance of a man not wanting to go grocery shopping. You knew it was something else when you noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the cart. Everything in your body warned you not to get close to him until the errands were done.

An unsettled feeling arose inside your stomach when the two of you were outside, a cart filled with groceries. Logan mentioned he brought Althea's car, which is one of the few words he's said since then.

He told you to wait in the car while he put the groceries in the trunk. You wanted to help, but he pushed you to go inside, almost gritting his teeth. There, you sat on the passenger side while waiting for him to finish. Logan was taking his time and acting completely different from your usual outings. At one point, you saw him with his head towards the sky, taking heavy breaths, hands on his hips.

You had a feeling this was your fault somehow.

When Logan got inside, you ask, “You okay?”

“No.” He doesn't start the car yet. You could see the veins across his hands when he gripped the steering wheel. “You don't know how fucking good you smell right now. It's everywhere. My nose, my head, my thoughts. You don't know bad I'm trying not to rip your clothes off and fuck you in the backseat. ”

You didn't know what to say, but you liked it. Your thighs squeezed together at how a couple of spritzes of perfume were affecting him.

“Is it that bad? Do you wanna go home instead?”

Logan shakes his head, “You still have to go to the beauty store.”

“I can get those things another day-”

“No, sugar. I'm not ruining your plans because of a damn perfume.”

Butterflies tangle in your stomach. This man still had ways to make you shiver. You just needed to be a responsible adult for a bit longer.

The beauty store was five minutes away, but being in the car with Logan felt like an eternity. His large hand rested on your thigh, creating heat through his palm. Your thoughts wanted him to go higher, near your sex, to feel how horny you were getting. The car started getting warmer too, sweat forming on your brow. If Logan hadn't smelled you earlier, he would probably have smelled you now.

“I'll go in with ya.” He offers when pulling into a parking spot.

“No need! I'll probably be a bit anyway.”

You rush out of the car before he can say anything else. Practically running inside the store so you can get your mind straight. Your boyfriend's words were hovering in your mind, and you resisted the urge to turn back around and have him go by his word.

You needed to calm your mind. Hopefully shopping for more supplies would help and Logan staying in the car.

“Now, what kind of man would I be if I let my lady go in alone?” Logan's gruff tone sent chills across your spine and his arm around your waist to press against your back. No words escaped you as he sniffed behind your head. “Say something.”

“Logan…” You let out a shaky breath, trying not to falter at the proximity. He couldn’t resist copping a feel on your breast, which made you bite your lip. “There are cameras.”

He grunts, burying his face in your neck as you two stand awkwardly in the shampoo aisle. Thank goodness there was no one nearby to witness it.

“I'm behaving.”

“Barely.”

When you were usually out to restock, you were quick, decisive, a separate list on hand to make sure you had everything you needed for the salon. This time, you were slower and more distracted as Logan was glued to your hip. Giving you extra hugs after picking up an item you need on your list. A gentle kiss to your neck. His arm possessively around your waist. The man wasn't even a massive fan of pda either. Whatever this perfume was had him forgo his usual self.

When people were nearby, he didn't leave your side. His large pupils were on them as if they were a threat as if they were going to take you away from him.

If you had any more errands to run, that would have to wait another day. Once you two checked out from the store, your man was about to snap.

Logan was dead silent when he started the car, his knuckles almost turning white again. The apartment was only fifteen minutes away, and you weren't sure if he would be able to hold on that long. You only noticed deep, heavy breaths that overshadowed the radio you turned on to distract yourself. You weren't sure if you wanted to ask if he was okay again. You had a feeling he was going to go true to his word to fuck you in the backseat.

Once pulling up to your apartment, you were ready to get out, but his hand held yours to stop you.

“I'll get the bags.”

“There's a lot of them, I can help-”

“No.” He cuts you off, bringing your wrist up to his face and taking a long sniff. You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. A whimper almost escaped your lips. “Go wait in our room.”

You had nothing else to say after that.

You did as you were told, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding your hands. Your heart pounding in your chest as you heard Logan bring the bags inside. You weren't sure why you were nervous. You were doing what you were told.

Maybe he told you to wait because the scent was becoming unbearable. That he couldn’t focus, or your scent was dampening his enhanced abilities. Did you mess up? All you did was put on perfume. Or did Wade mess up? Did he accidentally bring you something that affected mutants? You should’ve thought twice before accepting a gift from him.

Slow and heavy footsteps made it's way into the room. You watched Logan close the door and lock it as if there was anyone around to disturb you.

“Take off your clothes.” He starts pulling off his own shirt.

You did so, albeit a bit slower than him. Your thighs clenched as you knew your cunt was wet from all of the waiting, the touches, and kisses from the stores, his filthy words. Logan's eyes scanned your naked body when he got closer. You tried not to focus on his hard cock, red around the tip, cum leaking from it. You wondered how long he was holding that in.

“You got some type of power I don't know about?” He doesn't give you a chance to answer when he presses against your naked body. Heat coming from his chest that was making you flustered. “You secretly a mutant, and you decided not to tell me?”

“No! No, I'm not a mutant. I swear all I did was just put on some perfume-”

Logan silences you with a kiss. Hands on your sides while groaning between your lips. You thought he was mad at you, yet he was sticking his tongue down your throat. His rough hands on your sides. You hold on to him for dear life when he parts, sniffing the air, and you feel yourself getting wetter.

“Motherfucking perfume should not make you smell this good, Jesus fucking Christ.” Logan swears while he's buried against your neck again, licking and sucking along your skin. You whine at how rough he's getting, as if he needs more of you. “I won't get mad if you tell me you are a mutant right now because fuck…”

Logan picks you up and tosses you on the bed. You barely have time to recover when he flips you over on your stomach. A hand presses on your back, keeping you firmly against the mattress. His lips kiss behind your earlobe before giving it a gentle nibble. That makes you shift underneath him, causing him to shush in your ear.

“Hold still.”

You do as you're told, whimpering at the touch of his lips against your nape. A light kiss, one that makes you want to put your head back, which is followed up by a nibble. Logan does the same while trailing down your back. You feel his hands palm the globes of your ass while he does so, creating tiny circles with his thumbs.

You moan into your pillow, and you know you're embarrassingly wet now. Your cunt is pulsing with the need to have him inside you already. His fingers dip inside you, and you gasp in surprise. Logan's able to pump his thick digits into your aching hole while leaning over you again, taking another whiff of your perfume.

“Lift your hips up for me, baby.”

You struggle to move your hips as he’s still two fingers inside you, but he helps you, a firm hand on your hip. When he does so, he moves down to your clit. The two fingers coated with your wetness parted your folds, rubbing that sensitive bud. It was getting harder to do as you were told. Keeping still as he played with your pussy. Taking in how delicious you smelled with the perfume.

“Logan.” You murmured against your pillow, “Please…”

“Please? My lady's begging for me?” Logan lets out a short laugh, not stopping his fingers. “You want me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours, huh?”

“Please…” You were on the brink of tears, that familiar feeling in your stomach about to tip over. Logan didn't show you any mercy, making you sob against your sheets. His fingers rubbed your sensitive clit until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You ached for him to be inside, cunt pulsing for him to slip his cock in. Once again, the tip of his nose brushed against your ear lobe as well as his cock in your sex. Your body quivered as his chest was on your back, hovering over you for complete control.

“Think you can give me another?”

You didn't have time to answer as he started pounding into you. Sticky, wet sounds in your ears as you were pinned. Not having a single thought every time Logan's hips met with yours, mouth wide open as you were being fucked dumb. A hint of your drool staining the sheets.

The headboard banging against the wall, mattress squeaking as Logan kept going. Grunting in your ear, saying that your scent was even better after your orgasm. That he wasn't going to come until you squeezed around his thick cock. And he meant it when he rubbed against your pulsing clit. You shook, moaning at his touch and how his cock pistoned into you.

Logan was angled perfectly to where he started hitting your G-spot, causing your vision to get blurry. Still not stopping on the assault on your clit.

“Lo…Logan…” Your body was getting hotter, another climax on the horizon.

“You almost there, princess?” Your answer was only a whine, and that was good enough for him. “That’s it, that's it. Do it for me, baby.”

This orgasm was different. As you came undone, wetness coated Logan's cock, some dripping down your thighs and his own.

“Oh fuck-” Without warning, he shot up inside you. Grunting in your ear while his seed filled your cunt, mixing with your own arousal and trailing down your thighs as well. Logan lazily pumped into you to make sure you got it all while groping your ass.

You could hardly move with Logan on top of you. Thank goodness he didn't rest his total weight on you, or you'd be crushed. He waited a few moments before pulling out, leaving you to lie on your side, completely docile.

No words were said when he cleaned you up, towel between your legs as he kissed your forehead. You started getting coherent enough to realize the groceries were still out, but Logan said he already put them away for you.

With a sigh of relief, you glanced over at the perfume before reaching for your phone to look up the label. That's when your eyes went wide at the reveal.

Wade gifted you pheromone perfume.

No wonder Logan was acting unhinged all day. With his heightened sense of smell, of course something like this would affect him. That is definitely the last time you take a gift from Wade.

As you showed Logan what the perfume was, his brows furrowed in slight annoyance, calling him an asshole.

“But,” Logan folded his arms, glancing away from you. “I wouldn't mind if you wear this more often…”

[dollfacefantasy]

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. what you’re supposed to see him as. what you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you, remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

[stardust-and-fries]

Oh boy!! A chance for me to yap about gender at length?!?!!?!? DON'T MIND IF I DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [See tags for details. But be warned... I Popped the Fuck OFF writing this one, it's a doozy!]

Sorry if this is rude, but how do you identify? I looked around a bit and couldn't find anything, my apologies

Not rude! Honestly, I don't know these days! Lots of thoughts swirling around in my head. Maybe this is too much, but also maybe saying something instead of keeping it inside will be helpful... I'll put my gender thoughts under the cut... maybe someone can relate and offer some thoughts lol:

Recently, I came to the conclusion that I'm really not attracted to men at all, and maybe, I never have been. Looking back, I can kind of clearly see that any crush on a guy I thought I had was more like "wow, this person is COOL as HELL. I hope we can be really good friends." And then I noticed, that any crush I had on a girl felt... different. The feeling was totally different, and it still is. Have you noticed how most of the men I draw are quite feminine? I also have no idea what's going on with my gender. I know I'm me, a Yugo, I also can't comfortably say what exactly I am. Though by technicality, I am nonbinary, the word doesn't feel QUITE right to use for me. Maybe genderqueer is better. I've never identified as a man, but I have identified as transmasc and taken T. I really do like the results I've gotten from that. But at the same time, I don't really feel close to "manhood" at all, but something about having a mustache sometimes, like I tend to do, feels right to me still. I also like to wear lipstick and stuff. I don't know. I'm also not a "woman" I don't think, but I identify with more... I don't know, masculine expressions of womanhood if that makes sense? I am very androgynous in expression, in short. So basically I don't know what the hell is going on. All I know is I love women LOL. Can anyone relate to any of this? Any ideas?? I will not be offended by any assumptions you might have lol. Maybe I should just make a comic about this.

[harrysfolklore]

max verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation

summary: max verstappen can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

folkie radio: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAXIEEE, it's been a minute since the last time i did a compilation blurb and this felt like the perfect occasion to bring them back, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the best driver of his generation is known for his incredible driving skills and relentless pursuit of victory on the track.

However, behind the wheel, Max has another passion that rivals his love for racing: his girlfriend.

In every interview, press conference, and social media post, Max can't help but gush about her, seamlessly sharing stories of their life together into conversations about lap times and race strategies.

Fans quickly began doing compilation videos about all the times he mentioned his girlfriend publicly, and those gathered millions of views across social media platforms.

The most popular one was called "Max Verstappen being the perfect boyfriend: a compilation," and it began with a video of Max arriving to the paddock for media day, Red Bull's social media team filming him while he answered some rapid fire questions.

"Waffles or Pancakes? You know I used to love pancakes but I think I've had too many because my girlfriend is obsessed with making them," he said as he signed some stuff, "So I would go for Waffles at the moment, but if my girlfriend is watching this I'd say I take her pancakes every day."

The next clip was from a post qualifying interview, and of course, Max earned the pole position, the interviewer had asked him what was expecting for the race the following day.

"To win of course, that's what I'm here for," he said with so hesitation, "But I'm also looking forward to it because my girlfriend will be here, it's the first race she attends this season and I can't wait to see her in the crowd while I take on the podium."

The video moved to show Max with his teammate Sergio Perez, they were playing a game of Green Flag or Red Flag, they were asked about people who film themselves at the gym and Max immediately waved the red flag.

"I actually don't go to the gym anymore," Max added, "I get annoyed by everyone else so I just exercise at home."

"So no topless selfies, not even at home," the interviewer said.

"I don't need to impress anyone, I've got my girlfriend, so," Max shrugged.

The next clip was taken from Max's own Youtube channel, he was showing some of his preparation routine for a race, that included some neck training, checking statistics, quick meetings with his team and engineers among other things.

And of course, his girlfriend made an appearance, standing in a corner watching everything unfold. He approached her, race suit on and helmet in hand, kissed her lips gently as she caressed his arm.

"Be safe out there okay?" her voice could be faintly heard.

"Always schatje, I love you."

In the next segment, Max had just earned his second world championship and was doing a casual interview for a sports channel.

"Do you have your girlfriend now call you 'Two time world champion Max Verstappen' or just Max,"

"Definitely not the first one," Max laughed, "She'd never do that, she says she likes to keep me humble."

"Your girlfriend has a pet name for you?" the guy asked again.

"We call each other a bit different but I prefer not to say that on camera," Max laughed again, "I don't want the internet to make fun of me for being cheesy."

The next clip was from Max's streamings, he was too immersed in a game that he didn't hear his girlfriend come into the room, noticing her presence when she leaned into him.

Out of habit of keeping their privacy, he covered the camera but forgot to turn his mic off.

"Schatje I'm streaming," he said, unaware that everyone could hear him.

"Oh I'm sorry, I was going to ask if you could feed the cats but I'll do it myself," his girlfriend spoke.

"No I'll do it, just let me get off the stream,"

"Baby, there's no need," she insisted.

"I was missing you anyways, just give me a minute."

His audience couldn't see anything but they clearly heard how Max kissed his girlfriend's lips, turning his attention back to the screen, he realized that he was broadcasting their conversation to everyone.

His viewers went wild in the chat, spamming heart emojis and comments about how sweet the couple was. Max ended the stream with a laugh, addressing his fans. "Alright, you heard the boss. I gotta go feed the cats. See you all next time."

On the same note, another clip from a video for RedBull with Checo was included, they had been asked to show the most recent picture in their phones.

"Oh it's from this morning, my girlfriend with the kids," Max said, showing the picture to the camera.

"The kids?" Checo asked with a laugh.

"The cats are our kids," Max shrugged, "Jimmy and Sassy Verstappen."

A particularly touching moment was from a press conference after a difficult race. Max had finished fifth, a rare position for him given his usual dominance. When asked how he dealt with setbacks, he gave a candid response.

"It can be tough, but my girlfriend always knows how to lift my spirits. She's my biggest supporter and always finds the right words to say. Just being with her makes everything better, no matter how bad the race went."

During a clip of Max giving a tour of the Red Bull factory, he stopped at a wall covered in race-winning memorabilia. Among the trophies and champagne bottles, there was a small, framed photograph.

"This is special to me," Max pointed it out, "It's from my first win with Red Bull. But look closer..."

The camera zoomed in to show a young woman in the background of the photo, cheering in the pit lane.

"That's my girlfriend," Max said softly. "She was there for my first win, and she's been there for every one since - even if she can't always be at the track. The team knew how much that meant to me, so they made sure she was in this photo when they framed it."

In the next segment, Max was asked about his favorite off-track activity.

"I love cooking," Max grinned, "Well, more like watching my girlfriend cook. She's amazing in the kitchen, and I'm just there to taste-test everything."

The compilation included a moment during a press conference, Max addressed a question about his girlfriend facing criticism online. The question arose after she received negative comments following a public appearance with him.

"Look, it's tough sometimes," Max began, his expression turning serious. "She didn't choose this life, but she supports me through everything. It's not fair for her to get hate just because of who she's dating. If you have a problem with me that's fine but don't go after my family or my girlfriend because that is just unacceptable."

The final clip that wrapped the video us was from the FIA Prize Giving ceremony, Max received his trophy for winning the 2023 championship.

In his acceptance speech, he thanked his team, his family, and, of course, his girlfriend.

"Winning races and championships is amazing, but having someone by your side who believes in you and supports you unconditionally is truly special. To my girlfriend, thank you for being my rock and my biggest cheerleader. I love you."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Max Verstappen, three time world champion and the perfect boyfriend.

[quimichi]

⌗﹒THEIR VOICE LINES ABOUT YOU ౨ৎ˚₊‧ GN!

Aether

❝Since the beginning of Mondstadt they've been with me. They actually turned out to be my second guide! Which makes Paimon even more of an emergency food❞

❝Whaa-Paimon will pretend Paimon didn't hear that!❞

❝No really, I'm glad I found them...or rather they found me. It really wasn't much of a surprise when I-oh-I'm already talking too much again.❞

❝Traveler can go shy when he talks about his lover, hehe. STOP PULLING ME AWAY-H-HEY-!❞

Albedo

❝Oh? I see, you already heard about Y/n. Well, its not a big of a surprise, they're well known here in Mondstadt. Don't worry, if you ever encounter them, dont be shy to talk to them. They have actually been a great help for my researches and experiments. ❞

Al-Haitham

❝ Y/N? Yes, what about them? Yes, we're in a relationship, and? No, I'm not mad, why? I'm asking to much questions? Could ask you that, you seem awfully interested in my partner. Passive aggressive? Pff, now you're just pretending things. ❞

Ayato

❝ You'd like to know more about Y/n? What makes you think I have answers? Oh? I see, Ayaka has told you about it, well...Me and Y/n have been in a relationship for quite a while now. They're a very good support, doesn't matter what path i take or decisions I make, they always have my back. Without them I wouldn't be half the man I am right now. Satisfied with this answer? ❞

Baizhu

❝ The person that always helps out here is not some assistant. Don't worry, I'm sure they're not insulted. Who else are they then? Oh, my lover. Whats with that surprised look on your face? Didn't think I'd be taken? To be frank...I'm quite surprised too that I got this lucky.❞

Bennett

❝ Y/n? My lucky charm? They're awesome! A loyal member in Benny's adventure team...the only one though...They go on every adventure with me! Saved my life multiple times! Bring me good furtune! And are my partner! Wow, I really lucked out for real this time.❞

Capitano

❝ I'd like to keep my private life as private as possible...but for you I make an exception, just this once. Yes, Y/n is my life partner, my lover if you'd like to put it that way. I hold them very dear and would protect them with my life if i have to. So, if I ever sense any bad intentions coming from you, I will crush you with everything I've got.❞

Childe

❝ They spend last winter with me and my family. So, to show them around and make them feel more comfortable in Snezhnaya we had a little snowball fight. Y/n got hit a dozen times in the face by Teucer. They lost, obviously. But the best part was, when we went home, the slipped right before the door and fell ass first to the ground...but instead of being upset or annoyed...they laughed. I knew they we're the one right then and there.❞

Chongyun

❝ Oh you know Y/n? Well, I do too. You knew? Xingqiu huh?...Can't seem to keep quite sometimes...Yes, I am dating them. Saying this feels foreign...I still can't believe they chose me of all people. But I'm not too insecure about it, after all, they chose me of all people.❞

Cyno

❝ Y/n is one of the few people who actually laugh at my jokes. I don’t know if its out of pity or if i truly make them laugh, but either way i don't care. As long as i see a smile on their face I'm at ease. Huh? What do you mean i sound lovesick?❞

Dainsleif

❝ There are things that I'd rather keep private and save, including my relationship with Y/n. So I have to apo-...no, i trust you but-...You're right. Y/n and I have been in a relationship for quite a long time now. They mean a lot to me, thats why I want to keep any information about them as private as I can.❞

Diluc

❝ Yes, I am in a relationship with Y/n. I guess the topic makes his rounds, huh? We announced our relationship just yesterday, but have been serious for a long time now. I am...not a public as you know. And i didn't wanted any unwanted or negative attention on both of us but i know i can trust you. Right?❞

Dottore

❝ Did i ever had a lover? What an inappropriate question of you~ Of course i had lovers, but none could compare to my favorite. Have you heard of Y/n? Oh yes, they are quite popular aren't they~? Well, they're mine, all mine. So it would be better for you if you keep your hands off them. ❞

Freminet

❝ Are they my friend? Uhm...no...they're a bit more than that. Uhm, yeah they're my partner. We've been together for a while now...Am i happy? Of course i am...I'm just a bit embarrassed thats all. No one has really asked me about our relationship yet except for Lyney, Lynette and father.❞

Gorou

❝ You want to know about Y/n? Sure, what do you wanna know? Yes, they're my partner, in fact, we live together! They're a really caring, they make breakfast every morning, tend any injuries i have and sometimes even run me a bath...that was too intimate.❞

Heizou

❝ Y/n? What do you know about them? Nothing yet but you wanna know more? Why? Interested? Why am I asking all these questions? I'm a detective, and you're interested in my lover-oops-now i ran my mouth.❞

Itto

❝ You mean the oni one for me?! The true love of my life!? THEY'RE AWESOME. I'm so incredibly lucky to have them. AND they're so incredibly lucky to have the awesome one and oni Arataki Itto as their boyfriend!❞

Kazuha

❝ They are currently waiting for my arrival...i cannot wait to have them in my arms again. I miss them every day...What's that book? Oh, it's just for all the poems i write for them while being away. One poem for each day. Once I'm back, i read them to them.❞

Kaeya

❝ Oh you mean my little snowflake? Yes, i know them quite well, i can assure you that one. Wasn't always like that though, took is a while to actually get closer. But i won't complain either way, I'm happy that we finally found each other...damn, look at all the sappy things I'm saying, they've done this to me.❞

Kaveh

❝ I'm still planning our house, i just cannot make it perfect! Ugh, it's really getting on my nerves. I NEED this perfect for them, I need to make this the house of their dreams. But it's taking way to long. Since when am i planning? About 3 years. And since when are we dating? Also about 3 years...oh...❞

Kinich

❝ When they first traveled to Natlan they didn't met me immediately. I've only got to know them through Mualani and Kachina. They once expressed their hatred towards saurian hunters, went off yapping for a good hour too. You should've seen the look on their face once i told them i was one of them. They're still embarrassed to this day, even more after i explained what i really do. One of the many memories that truly make me happy.❞

Lyney

❝ They're aware that true magic doesn't exist. That all my shows are just an act. That somewhere is a trick hidden, so simple its ridiculous. And yet, they're still amazed, still getting big eyed when I'm on stage preforming. Even after countless shows that are the same, they're clapping along like it was the first....I couldn't not have asked for a better support and love in my life then them.❞

Mika

❝ I still don't know how i managed to confess, maybe it's because i can't really remember it anyway. It's a memory I'd like to forget entirely, mostly because i was so embarrassed afterwards. But I never want to forget what they said afterwards. Everytime i hear those 4 words from them I get butterflies.❞

Neuvillette

❝ Y/n and I are in a serious relationship since 5 years and 4 months. We have been living together since 3 years and 1 month. I do consider our relationship deep and intimate. I trust them deeply and never once did I think about it otherwise. I truly believe that our relationship will hold on for eternity. Is this enough information or should I tell you more?❞

Pantalone

❝ Ah, my spoiled little brat? Joking, joking...well, only half. I do spoil them quite a lot, but i wouldn't consider them a brat...most of the time. Just last week I bought them this new coat, winter in Snezhnaya are the hardest in all Teyvat. Oh, and new gloves, a scarf an-no, why would i brag with my money, it's not like i have enough to buy at least million of coats.❞

Pierro

❝ The only thing you need to know is that they are with me and well taken care off. Should you not remember the fact that any hate or violence towards them is strictly forbidden, i will gladly remind you. ❞

Razor

❝ Y/n helped Razor a lot. Razor appreciates it, the help. Razor also loves Y/n. That's what Y/n always tells Razor every day. So Razor tells Y/n every day too.❞

Scaramouche

❝ Who? My lover? Them? No, I would never. No, I'm not keeping anything private?! Neither am I ashamed of anything...quite the opposite, huh? No, said nothing. Screw off now, i need to be somewhere. Where? None of your damn business...So what if its a date?!❞

Thoma

❝ Mhm, you're quite right, Y/n and I arw together. Lucked out, huh? I'm currently teaching them how to cook some dishes, been going well...for the most part. No, they have a hand for it but both of us always seem to lose any focus once we're 30 minutes into it.❞

Tighnari

❝ You should've heard their begging, "Oh Tighnari please, i can keep my own garden!" Yeah, keeping it, but not take care of it. Because who takes care of it? Correct, me. It's easy work, so it's not too troublesome. But what is troublesome is how they don't take care of it. *sigh* maybe i am a bit to harsh on them, they are a bit stressed lately anyway. They deserve to take a rest and calm down from everything. So i gladly take care of the garden, for as long as they need me to.❞

Venti

❝ Our first meeting was quite the embarrassing one, almost feel quite shy telling it....Ok! Ok! I'll tell you!....I fell into their lap...No, i wasn't drunk! Someone else was, pushed me by accident and i stumbled backwards right onto their lap in angels share. And to top it off i took their plate and drink with me. Lucky for me, they weren't mad at all. Still...it's so embarrassing!❞

Wriothesley

❝ Took them quite a while to adjust to Meropide. Understandable though, it's a change from the surface. But once they grew comfortable, it's almost like they don't want to leave. They quickly befriended almost everyone, especially Sigewinne. They grew quite popular here in the matter of just a few weeks. Good for me i got them first before anyone else could.❞

Xiao

❝ Hm? Oh, them? Yes, we're close. Why do you ask? Just curious? Ugh, don't look at me like that. What do you wanna hear? How much i love them? You can wait till the day Teyvat will shatter entirely, I won't say it to you, only to them.❞

Xingqiu

❝ Our love story is picture perfect. A written love story by the finest ink. Full of clichés. We reached for the same book, and our hands touched. Then and there, i was mesmerized...until they snatched the book first.❞

Zhongli

❝ Our love story has been holding on since 3717 years, and it will hold on for many years more. What makes me so sure it will? We love each other like it was the very first day. Never once did we lie to one another, were apart from each other or lost our trust. I do have a contract anyway if anything should happen.❞

[cherrygirlfriend]

─── YOU'VE GOT MAIL .ᐟ

...or him seeing you with someone else.

★ pairing.ᐟ frat!rafe x nerd!reader

★ summary.ᐟ rafe cameron is the golden boy of kildare university; certified frat boy, captain of the football team, relentless party animal with lines of girls to sleep with.

reader couldn't be more different; while she has the best grades in the whole school, she suffers from social anxiety disorder, and her social life is limited to her three best friends and the cat she secretly snuck into her dorm room.

both of them decide to join the anonymous chatroom for their campus, and start talking to one another, a friendship starting to form between the two; but neither of them know how different the other is.

★ author's note.ᐟ i might be posting another chapter in a few days hehe,,, i've been thinking about making a post about the kind of outfits this reader wears, lmk if you'd be interested!!

YOU'VE GOT MAIL!

YOU: you there? sent at 10am YOU: i miss talking to you. sent at 1pm YOU: i'm booooreeeed :( sent at 4pm YOU: sorry if i'm bothering you :) sent at 6pm YOU: sry i'll stop now!!! sent at 8pm YOU: i miss you... sent two minutes ago YOU: sorryyy, im a bit tips. sent now

you frowned as you looked down at your phone. everything felt like shit. emilia was off to talk with rafe, and you could see vivian making out with topper, the boy's back pressed against the tree, everyone else having someone to talk to, or even be in the presence of. everyone except for you, and the pitiful plastic cup that consisted of 75% vodka, 10% of some random punch and 15% of diet coke in your hand.

"am i pathetic?" you asked the fire blazing in front of you, taking a long chug from your mug. you already knew the answer. the guy you possibly liked was ignoring you, meanwhile everyone else was shoving their tongues down each other's throats. it felt like you were the only person in the universe.

"probably." a voice appeared next to you, nearly making you choke on your drink. you looked to your left side as you coughed, trying to get rid of the itch in your throat, seeing that someone had pulled up a chair right next to yours, making your eyes widen.

"who-" you coughed, "are you?" you held your breath, hoping that it'd help, only for the boy to bend you forward slightly, slapping your back a few times, "breathe in." he commanded, and you did so, "breathe out."

after a few more times of doing that, you started to feel slightly better, able to finally speak without having to cough. "thanks..." you said softly, "uh, who are you?"

"i'm dodge." the dark-haired boy flashed you a smile, "can i ask you, what's your name, and why do you think you're pathetic?"

you told him your name, taking a moment to think of an answer to his second question, "well... all of my friends have someone they're with right now. one of my friends is with a guy she swears she hates but ends up getting with all the time, and another is with a guy who i'm pretty sure has a crush on her."

"then just go and mingle." the dark-haired boy shrugged, like talking to people was the easiest thing in the world. for a lot of people, it was. not you. "drunk people love socializing. someone would probably be willing to listen their ear off about… the history of cars, or something."

"i'm terrible at it. i swear, i'd accidentally end up offending them in some way." you shook your head, "i have pretty bad anxiety. i see a large group of people and it's like... i stop functioning." "you're in a large group of people right now. look around." you did as dodge said, chuckling as you looked around the clearing. you were surrounded by people. couples making out, people hanging out in groups, people by the fire... yet you didn't feel as anxious as you always do.

"i take beta blockers, and since alcohol is a depressant, it relieves my anxiety and lowers my inhibitions, meaning-" "-that you'll feel good after a few drinks but if you keep drinking more, you'll start to go down and eventually feel like crap." the boy finishes your sentence for you, and you cock your head to the side with a slight smile, "you're a lot smarter than most frat boys."

"and you're a lot smarter than most pathetic people." "i take it back," you nudge dodge to his side, "you're awful." "i think you like it." he grinned. "only because my inhibitions are lowered by alcohol." you rolled your eyes, "but tomorrow i'm gonna have the worst case of hangxiety and avoid you like the plague." "you're a cruel woman."

you laughed, shaking your head and looking to the fire, taking an absentminded sip of your drink, "y'know, people tell me that i'm smart, but for some reason, i've never really been able to figure out why i feel different than others." "well, how are you different?" "to the people around me… it seems to come so easily to just talk to people. to connect with someone. but i feel like i can't connect to people at all."

"i mean, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses." the boy shrugged, "you're bad at socializing but i bet you're good at other things." "well, there's one thing i can tell you're not good at, dodge." "oh yeah? what's that?" the boy raised his brows in amusement, "pep talks."

MEANWHILE...

emilia sat down onto the chair next to rafe's, handing him a beer while taking a sip of her own. she leaned back on her chair, tsk'ing, "so, uh, why'd you wanna talk to me?" "oh." rafe chuckled under his breath, turning to her, "you just seem like a cool girl. a cool person."

"oh. thanks." emilia said with a tight smile, taking a long swig of her beer, "so, what are you into?" "mostly football and partying." he chuckled, "i do read sometimes, but don't go around telling that to people 'cause i'm probably gonna get shit on."

"i wont." emilia chuckled softly, "but one of my friends recommended this one bookstore to me. i can send you the address if you give me your number or your snapchat or kildareuchats user."

rafe tsked, "i would, but... i pretty much fucked up my phone this morning." "what? how? you drop it into the toilet or something?" emilia chuckled. "no, no." rafe shook his head humorously, "i fell into the water and didn't even realize it was in my pocket... it was a whole thing. now my phone is sitting in a bowl of rice."

"let's hope for the best." emilia chuckled, stretching her arms over her head, and that was when rafe noticed the logo on emilia's shirt, narrowing his eyes as he thought back to the list of music AnnabelLee had recommended.

fleetwood mac - rhiannon

"fleetwood mac." rafe said quietly, "what?" emilia asked, "fleetwood mac. on your shirt." the boy gestured to the cut-up shirt she was wearing, making emilia laugh, "oh, yeah. i borrowed it from my friend who's a big fan of them. i like them too, but she's obsessed with them. especially stevie nicks."

"who's your friend...?"

"oh, she's here with us." emilia says, looking around, until she finally spots you. and then rafe spots you, talking to another guy, a smile on your face and your body practically pressed against his side. you threw your head back in laughter, before focusing back on the boy you were with, leaning close to him. rafe tries to focus on emilia; AnnabelLee, the girl he's somehow fallen for without seeing her face or talking to her in person... but for some reason, he feels his his gut twisting whenever he thinks about the girl he'd talked to twice, a girl who pretty much got him thrown into a lake talking to another guy. flirting with another guy.

"can i... can i ask you a question?" rafe cleared his throat, "it might be a weird." "yeah, go ahead." emilia smiled, "does your friend have a cat?"

rafe's question made emilia chuckle, "that is a weird question." she stated, "but yeah, she does." emilia smiled at rafe, "her name is angel. she's white, but she has heterochromia. one of her eyes is blue and the other is green."

rafe's face went pale. white cat with one blue eye and one green eye... his mind went back to the one night when he'd gotten drunk and he'd asked you what the cat you'd told him lives with you in your dorm looked like.

she's white, fluffy and has one blue eye and one green eye. she's also a pain in the ass, but i still love her. when the puzzle pieces finally fell into position, rafe's head turned to where you'd been in record time.

only to find that you were no longer there.

TAGLIST: @yktayy9669 @tinythebunni @dywho @melalsworld @akobx @samwinchesterisawhore @st8rkey @jjasmiineee @ltristessedureratoujours @a-lovers-card @uselessnewt @lunaleah @letstryagaintomorrow @cinnamqnnlatte @papapoy @kay133sposts @wtfisastiles @butterfly1c @emmiesummers @melodyyybubbles @toomanywhitelies @littl3loveydovey @scne-vampire @alwaysmaybank @mysticbby2009 @luna443 @drewstarkeyswife-7 @flowerluvr @kisselxoll - cont. in com

[c0s-lettuce]

your orbit

steve harrington x reader

synopsis: amidst a night of board games, junk food and extraordinary company, the only thing steve can think about is you.

→ or the deterioration of steve harrington's mind over the course of an evening.

word count: 4.1k

warnings/tags: fem!reader, set around s4 but no upside down, eddie and robin aren't subtle, steve just really loves you, childhood best friends to strangers to friends, one bed but not really ;)

a/n: i love ex bestie steve! i've been wanting to write for him for a while, so hope i did him justice. joe keery favourite white boy frrr. pls forgive any inaccuracies and thanks for reading <3

part two coming soon!

5 PM

Steve decided to take advantage of having the house to himself. His parents are gone for the week, as they so often are. So, he sent out a few invitations to some of his closest friends. A small get-together, he told them, nothing fancy.

Robin accepted, of course. And Nancy and Jonathan, too. Steve only told Dustin about the party, but he already knew that word would spread to all the other kids.

But Steve has a mini panic attack when he finds out you're coming. He isn't too sure where he stands with you these days. Your friendship has all but rekindled, but Steve is still wary around you, terrified of messing up again. You accepted the invitation, though. That's a good thing. Right?

As Steve waits for people to arrive, he takes out his only activities, a deck of cards and a single board game he received as a gift but never opened. He's relying on his friends with siblings and/or a healthier relationship with their parents to bring more things to do.

He sets out the snacks he bought. Chips and candy are laid out over the island counter in the kitchen, and soda is stacked in the fridge. Steve even sets aside a little stash of what he hopes are still your favourites. He also managed to get his hands on some beer, and there's money set aside for pizza later.

Soon enough, people start showing up. Robin arrives first, followed by Dustin, Lucas and Max. Then Nancy and Jonathan arrive with Mike, Will and El. Then you. And finally, Eddie.

The gaggle of children quickly bee-line for the snacks and games. Steve watches with disdain, knowing there'll be a mess to clean up after. But at least his other guests appear happy to see their gracious host, with you among them.

Steve pretty much shortcircuits when you arrive. You're dressed nicely, and your hair is all pretty. You lean in to give him a quick hug, greeting him fondly. He may as well have cancelled the night then because he's sure his heart stopped for a second.

He only snaps out of it when Eddie arrives, slapping him so hard on the back that it could've been an alternative to the Heimlich maneuver. Suddenly, the population of the house has gone from one to a dozen, and noise and energy immediately replace the prior peace.

Steve quickly realises that he's in for a long night.

6 PM

"So, what's the story between the two of you?" Eddie asks.

Steve blinks, caught off guard by the question. He turns to the other boy, who awaits his answer with a half-curious, half-smug expression.

"Nothing, man," Steve mutters, taking a sip of his beer.

"Nothing, huh?" Eddie smirks. "Is that why you're staring at her like she's the love of your life?"

Steve glares at Eddie, wondering who even invited him. Eddie is the newest addition to the larger friend group. Dustin is very fond of him. And from what Steve has heard, so are you. He's in a few of the same classes as you, and there's a rumour among the kids that you used to be in Hellfire for a semester in your sophomore year.

The thought of you being close to Eddie bothers Steve. He chases the feeling away with another sip.

"Come on, big boy," Eddie nudges him. "We're friends now. You can tell me."

He looks back at you. You're sat around the coffee table with the kids in the middle of a round of Uno. And you look so lovely. You always do. Even the way you're holding the cards is pretty. You're the perfect culmination of everything sweet. No wonder the kids are hogging you.

He looks back at Eddie, who's still regarding Steve with inquisitive and mischievous eyes. Steve considers acquiescing, especially since Eddie is willing to listen. At the very least, it'll give Robin a break from dealing with his usual sulking.

"We were really close in middle school," Steve begins. "Best friends, even. But then I started high school, and... well, you can probably guess the rest."

"Ah," Eddie nods, understanding immediately. "I see."

Steve continues. "We only spent a year apart. And she was so excited to join me. But then-"

"Then King Steve emerged, and you left her in the dirt," Eddie remarks.

Steve cringes at the wording but doesn't refute it. It's an accurate recount of what happened. He knew he was horrible, not just to you but to everyone. He regrets nothing more than abandoning you and letting his so-called friends pick on you. Meanwhile, he stood by, telling himself worthless excuses to justify how things turned out.

You and Steve remained strangers after he left his throne behind. And it probably would've stayed that way if he didn't become coworkers with one Robin Buckley, who had become your new best friend in his absence.

He remembers the days you would visit Scoops Ahoy, mostly to distract Robin and make his job harder. You would often give him quick glances and polite smiles, never going out of your way to talk to him. However, he would occasionally catch your eyes lingering on him.

Robin would tell him you were checking him out, insisting she knew how her best friend thinks. But he was convinced you were judging him for his dumb hat and sailor outfit. Nothing ever made him wish he could crawl into a hole and die more than that.

But suddenly, he was back in your orbit again. And he's never left since.

Turning his attention back to you, Steve watches you play your last card, earning a groan from a few of the other players. You stand up victorious, stepping away from the table to grab another drink from the kitchen.

Steve recognises this as the perfect time to approach you and say something other than the "hey" he offered when you arrived. But just as he's about to muster up the courage, the doorbell rings, indicating the arrival of pizza.

With a sigh and another slap on the back from Eddie, he turns away to retrieve the food.

7 PM

You fit in well with the others. Not that it's a bad thing. It's great, actually. It just reminds Steve how much time has passed and how things have changed. It makes him think of what could've been.

You being best friends with Robin makes more sense than hot chocolate on a rainy day. You're like two peas in a pod. You match each other's energy, and both have a sort of charming madness about you.

The kids obviously like you. Not that their criteria are that high. But it helps that you used to work at the arcade and would give them your spare quarters. Plus, the rumour that you used to be in Hellfire makes you seem like a legend in their eyes.

Even Max likes you. He could tell because you were the one she approached earlier, asking if she could have a beer. You laughed and told her no. She just pouted and accepted it. Steve knew if he told her no, he would've been left with an insult.

You aren't particularly close to Nancy or Jonathan. Still, Steve knew they respected you, which means a lot, especially from someone like Nancy. And, of course, Eddie is... Eddie.

Steve comes to the realisation that he's jealous of everyone at the party. They all have a place in your life, in your heart. He wonders if there's even room left for him. There was a time when he occupied all that space. And it's his own fault that changed. Still, he can't help but hope.

The pizza disperses and disappears quickly. As the others chase their dinner with more snacks and set up another game, Steve remains leaning against the wall. He's so deep in thought that he doesn't notice someone approaching him.

"Steve?"

He flinches at the voice. It's you.

"H-hey," he stutters.

"Hey," you reply. "You okay? You seem a bit... distraught."

Steve takes a second to respond but nods. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good, just thinking."

You tilt your head, sensing more to the story but not wanting to pry. "Alright. Just don't hurt yourself."

Steve chuckles nervously, both relieved and terrified that you're making jokes with him.

You point back towards the coffee table. "The others are about to start a game of Monopoly. Did you want to join?"

He looks towards the group, at Dustin micromanaging how Will sets up the board. At Max and El scheming their game plan, having already picked the token they want to use. And at Mike dragging over his reluctant-looking sister, an amused-looking boyfriend following behind.

Steve knew he ought to join in, having just been standing around all night. But the idea of playing a game about capitalism with a group of kids who took board games way too seriously doesn't appeal to him right now.

So, he shakes his head. "No thanks. You go ahead."

You glance at the others before turning back. "Nah, I'm good. I need a break from getting lectured by Dustin."

Steve snorts. "Yeah, that kid's got a mouth on him. You wouldn't believe how often he tries to give me dating advice."

"He gives you dating advice?" you ask, amused.

"Yeah," Steve answers. "Now that he has a girlfriend, he thinks he's unstoppable. A girlfriend he wouldn't even have if it weren't for me, by the way. I taught him everything he knows."

You laugh and shrug. "Well, maybe you could learn something, Steve. You know, the whole 'student becomes the master' thing?"

Steve lets out a huff. "No, no way. Besides, I don't need a girlfriend when I've got-"

You, he almost says. But he clears his throat and corrects himself.

"Uh, all of you," he states, vaguely gesturing to the party. "My friends, you know?"

His words make you grin. "Aww, Steve-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he mumbles. "Just don't tell anyone I said that."

He averts his gaze. His cheeks flush a bit, but he's holding back a smile. He's glad to have gotten that reaction from you.

You're about to tease him some more when Robin's voice interrupts, calling for your help from upstairs.

You sigh, looking back at Steve. "Duty calls. I'll leave you to your thinking."

You give him a cheeky smile before you leave, a smile that makes it seem like you somehow read his mind and found his thoughts amusing. He can only watch as you walk away again.

8 PM

Steve isn't sure how he got here, sitting next to you on the carpet. The Monopoly game was cut short after Lucas and Mike got into a heated argument. And now they've switched to The Game of Life, which hopefully won't cause any fights.

Not only did Steve get roped into playing, he got teamed up with you. You had been calling most of the shots during the game, but when you reached the marriage space, stuck a little pink peg next to the blue one and murmured, "That's us," to Steve... well, it all got a bit confronting for the poor boy.

He felt like a fool, sitting there overthinking two words that likely were said as a joke. Steve had realised a while ago that he loved you. A part of him thinks he always has, ever since the early days of middle school.

But being friends with you again after everything is more than he felt he deserved, so he doesn't expect you to return those feelings just yet. But then you go ahead and say something like that. So casually, too. "That's us." Married. Yeah, right. Either you're cruel, or there's hope for him yet.

Steve manages to calm his emotions a few moments later. But as the game progresses, he continues comparing his life to the little blue peg that was supposedly him.

Steve, in the game, has a college degree, a decently-paying job, a pretty pink peg for a wife (which you've claimed to be you), three peg children and his own house, all while avoiding any mid-life crises.

Steve, in real life, at the ripe age of nineteen, has no idea what he's doing. He's been through at least two quarter-life crises. College is definitely not happening. And he's working a retail job Robin got for him through bribery. At least it came with a better uniform. One which would probably help with picking up girls if the girl he actually wanted wasn't the one currently sitting next to him.

At least now, when you visit Robin at work, you also come to see him. You make eye contact, give him bright smiles, and actually talk to him. And he has to do everything in his god-given power to not lose his mind each time.

But it's not all for nothing. After all, you're a loyal customer of Family Video, and Steve always looks after his patrons (as long as it's you). If he knows you'll be visiting, he'll put on one of your favourite movies on the TV in the store.

He'll also research movies he thinks you'll like, lie and say they're unavailable if someone tries to rent them before he can get them to you. It earns judgment from Robin, but he doesn't care. As long as it makes you happy.

Soon, Steve vows, he'll take you out to see a movie on the big screen. It'll be just the two of you at the back of the theatre with a big bucket of popcorn. He'll pull some cheesy move on you. You'll laugh at him or roll your eyes. Or maybe you'll fall for it. Either way, it'll be perfect.

Steve only checks back into the present when The Game of Life ends. He glances around the table, relieved no one has noticed him daydreaming. Everyone's cars are in the retired space, and Steve catches a glimpse of you and him and your three kids again. But he looks back at the real you as you turn to face him.

Steve is no help as you sort out how much money you ended up with, too busy admiring you instead. You're focused, doing maths in your head and using his lap as a surface to lay out the notes and cards. And somehow, he falls even more in love with you in this moment.

9 PM

The party has diminished, with Nancy and Jonathan having gone home with the kids. Now, just Steve, Robin, Eddie, and you remain. Outside, dark clouds have gathered, showering Hawkins in light rain.

The four of you are finishing the night off with one last card game. You had won, of course. And now Eddie has recruited your help. He has his arm around you, his head pressed against yours, his deck hiding your faces as you conspired his next move.

If Steve didn't know any better, he'd assume you two were a thing. But he does know better. Eddie must be doing this on purpose, trying to make him jealous or something. And it was working. Steve supposed that's what he deserves for trusting Eddie with his deepest, darkest regret.

The card game turns into a one-sided glaring contest, with Robin having to nudge Steve whenever it's his turn. With your help, Eddie finishes second. Robin comes third, and Steve loses the game. But at this point, he isn't even upset about it because it means his suffering is over.

Eddie finally lets go of you, letting out a contented sigh as he stretches his arms above his head.

"Alright," he announces. "I'm calling it a night. You ready to go, Buckley?"

Robin nods. "Yeah, let's head."

The two stand and begin gathering their things.

Eddie looks at you as he puts on his jacket. "You sure you don't want a ride home?"

You shake your head. "I'm good, Eds. You take Robin. My dad should be here soon."

Eddie accepts your answer with a nod, and you catch the slightest hint of a smirk. But you ignore it as you and Steve walk him and Robin to the door. You give them each a hug before they leave.

Robin has an expression you don't fully comprehend as she hugs you back, somewhere between smug and amused. "See you later, nerd. Make good choices, okay?"

You furrow your brow, but she heads out the door before you can ask what she means by that.

As Eddie steps out after her, he looks back at Steve. "Hey, Harrington. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

He sends Steve a wink, who frowns at the implication of his words. You notice Robin is still giving you that look. You send her a raised eyebrow in return. But no more words are exchanged as the two go their merry way.

"God, they're weird," Steve mutters as he closes the door.

His comment elicits a chuckle from you, which elicits a flutter in his chest. He turns to face you, unable to help the smile that graces his features just by looking at you. But a mildly awkward silence follows as Steve racks his brain on how to proceed now that it's just the two of you.

"You, uh- you want another drink?" he asks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, sure."

His own smile widens. "Alright. You sit back down, and I'll get us some."

Steve heads into the now almost empty kitchen, grabbing two bottles before finding you again in the living room. You're sitting on the couch, packing up the deck of cards. Steve is momentarily distracted by the way your hands move.

But as he approaches and hands you your drink, he decides to be bold and sits close to you, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. He doesn't even have a millisecond to regret it because he feels you lean into his touch.

Steve revels in the satisfaction.

10 PM

Eddie and Robin seem to have left just in time because the storm picks up only a few minutes after they leave. You and Steve sit and chat for a while as you finish your drinks, and you help Steve clear up the empty cans and scattered wrappers despite him ordering you not to.

But even after everything is cleaned, your father still hasn't arrived. Steve watches as you wait, looking at the time again.

"You're welcome to stay over if that's easier for you," he tells you.

You look over at him, considering his offer. "You don't mind?"

Steve shakes his head. "No, of course not."

He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind at all. In fact, he would prefer it. He's used to being alone for days at a time. But it's a bit harrowing going from twelve people to just one, especially in a big empty house during a storm. Yes, he definitely wants you to stay.

"Okay," you say, "I'll just call my parents and ask what's happening."

Steve nods as you walk over to the phone and call home. It rings for a bit before someone picks up.

"Hello?" your mother's voice greets you.

"Hey, mom," you reply. "It's me."

The pitch of her voice changes immediately upon hearing your voice. "Hi, darling! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to check if dad was still coming to pick me up?" you ask.

There's a pause before your mom groans. "Oh, I'm so sorry. We completely forgot. We had a lot of wine for dinner. I can go get him now."

"It's no big deal, mom," you interject. "The storm's getting pretty bad anyway. Steve said I could stay over."

Again, your mother's cadence changes, but you don't need to question why. You know she's always been a fan of Steve.

"Okay, darling," she responds. "That sounds like a good idea. You two take care, alright?"

You resist rolling your eyes, even though she's not around to see it. "Yeah, you too, mom. Bye."

Your mom bids you farewell, and you hang up the phone.

Steve, who waits patiently nearby, takes this as his cue to speak up. "You staying?"

You look over at him and nod. "I'm staying."

"Okay, great," Steve smiles. "You can take my room. I'll go in the guest bedroom."

"What? Steve, no," you say. "You don't have to do that. I'll take the guest bedroom."

"No, really," he insists. "It's cold and uncomfortable in there. Trust me."

"I'm the guest, Steve. I'll go in the guest bedroom," you respond.

"No, not happening," he states.

You frown. "I'm not letting you give up your room."

Steve crosses his arms. "Well, I'm not letting you stay in the guest bedroom."

There's a pause in the conversation as the two of you stare each other down, hoping the other will fold.

When neither of you do, you make another suggestion. "Alright. How about we just share your bed?"

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Uh, you- really? Are you sure?"

You shrug. "Yeah, I mean... we used to do it all the time as kids, right?"

It's true. You did. There were countless nights when you would pass out in bed together, having stayed up watching movies or spent the entire day in the pool.

"Okay," Steve agrees. "Let's do that then."

"Great," you say.

"Great," he replies.

Yeah... great.

11 PM

Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out.

That's all Steve could repeat in his head. He's lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling while you're beside him. He forgot to factor in how the both of you have grown considerably since middle school, meaning there's less space between you now.

Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't fr-

"You know," you break the silence. "I forgot how weird your plaid wallpaper was."

Steve furrows his brow, his distress momentarily forgotten as he turns to look at you.

"It's not weird," he says defensively.

"It's pretty weird," you reply before looking at him. "But it's cool."

As your gaze meets his, he feels his nervousness rushing back. You look so soft and cozy in his bed, wearing his shirt. And you're smiling at him as if you knew the funniest joke in the world and you were about to tell it to him.

He lets a beat of silence pass before clearing his throat. "Did you have fun today?"

"Yeah, I did," you answer genuinely. "You?"

"Yeah," Steve replies. "It's nice having people around."

You nod in response, remembering how his parents would send him over to live with your family whenever they would go away. As much as he loved being able to spend time with you, you knew he hated being left behind.

"How long are your parents gone for this time?" you ask.

"Just until the end of the week," he tells you.

You nod again. "You've been faring up by yourself?"

He shrugs. "I don't mind it. They've been on my back a lot recently. Honestly, I needed the break."

"Right," you reply. "So not much has changed."

Steve lets out a humourless laugh. "Nope. It's been hell since I graduated last year."

You frown at his words. "I guess that's not surprising."

"Yeah, I don't know," he pauses for a second before continuing, his voice quieter. "Sometimes, I think they have a point."

You pause as well, trying to gauge what he's thinking. "You shouldn't let them get to you, Steve."

He sighs. "I know. But what if they're right, you know, about me?"

"They're not. I promise you," you reassure him.

Steve turns to look at you again, almost like he's searching for your sincerity.

You give him a smile. "You'll be alright, Steve. I know it."

Steve can't help but smile back. You sound so earnest that he's inclined to believe you. Besides, you're here with him right now. So, he must be doing something right.

You fall into a comfortable silence. There's barely any noise this late at night to disrupt it. After a few moments, you let out a yawn.

"Ugh, man. I'm so sleepy," you mumble.

"You should get some rest," he responds. "I still remember how grumpy you get in the morning."

You give him a deadpan look. "Gee, thanks."

Steve chuckles. "Just telling the truth."

Your feigned expression breaks as you laugh along, too. Steve cherishes every second of the moment before it fades away.

You yawn again. "Alright then. Goodnight, Steve."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he replies.

The room falls silent again. Steve lets out a deep breath and closes his eyes. Despite the uncertainty, a smile still lingers on his lips. A million things could change tomorrow. But for now, at least, you're still by his side.

[cocklessboy]

The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.

I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.

And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!

We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.

There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.

Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.

Except...

I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.

I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.

The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.

Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".

There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.

And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.

His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.

I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.

That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.

I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.

Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.

Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.

If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.

It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.

I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.