#(like I did not know who Ray was for a while

[lullqbys]

i feel like the only out of 3 of my other accounts hawkeye fan 💔 so how about my main course main hoe bucky .. 😛

but like maybe just like him comforting you and hes all sappy and sweet and wiping your tears for you and then it progressively gets a little more like ' i know how to make you forget about everything '

,, js know im evillyyyy laughing and rubbing my hands together but also like u obvi dont have to write full smut if u dont want too , maybe just some suggestive here and there ,, whatever u want ml !! 💋💋

yk… since i’ve never written smut before , ill try and give it a go since ur such a sweetie 😜

cold to touch

bucky barnes x reader

!smut below!

he seemed constantly cold . as icy as the hydra base he spent half his life in . his features , so sharp they could cut someone , his eyes so blue they pierced anything he had in his peripherals . to others , he spoke with nothing but venom layering his lungs , as if he were a walking stop sign .

that changed when he looked at you. his eyes once almost white they were so blue , now dilated by the mere thought of you. his heart suddenly warmed , and not in the way he thought of when he was natasha , steve , or the others . it was special to you . you cusped his heart cavaties like a warm comforting wave , washing over his freezer burned heart. he melted from ice to lukewarm water whenever you were near . you always knew how to soothe him .

that’s why he looked just about ready to shoot someone once he saw you crying . you hadn’t heard anyone come in , let alone home in the tower . as he softly , yet firmly closed the door behind him , as to shut you from the negative energies creeping up through the thin cracks of the door , he smothered you in a hug .

it’s funny , as much as he is cold (physically) he felt nothing but the warm rays of sun. his cold metal arm , feeling like a warm breeze , running through your hair as you hiccuped .

he stayed silent , knowing to comfort you , wiping your tears , flesh on flesh . holding you as tight in his arms as he could manage , as to hug the tears out of you .

“who did this to you, слива ?” he asked softly , as he stroked your hair , smelling your scent while still holding you firmly against his biceps .

“jus’ had a bad day s’all,” you sniffled . “ a mission went really bad , i messed up , almost got us in danger by being reckless ,” you said, your face hot and flushed with tears as your lip began to wobble again.

“my love , we all make mistakes . you know the things i’ve done but your still here doll. you can never do harm on purpose .” he comforted you, his voice silky and sunken , holding onto your hair, moving his hands into cupping your cheeks, wiping your tears.

“i know how to help, if you trust me doll,” he said, laying you down in your bed, your hair pillowing into a halo underneath you as he began to kiss you.

“let me take care of you , baby.” he began sucking on your jaw, moving down, achingly slow, before stopping right above your pelvis. your hands snaked its way into his hair , as you arched his back and he went lower, your bundle of nerves slowly disappearing into bliss, his nose feeling angelic as you put your pleasure into sound.

he continued his actions, your eyes begun to roll into your eyes. he was intoxicated , staring at you through his lashes , watching you like you were a sort of prey . your ache of pain and skull splitting headache disappearing as you now cried out of joy. he sat back up, staring at you as if you were angelic , pure bliss overcoming you as you regained from your high . you breathe a sigh of relief as he turned you over, holding you tightly .

his chest supported your head as if he were your personal pillow . he brought the fluffy duvet over you, silk sheets getting tangled up amidst it, pulling them over you in order to give you more decency .

“angels never see the halo above them,” he said, praising you with his eyes as you traced his face , as if he were sculpted for the pure purpose of laying by your side . he felt like a fire , burning to your love and succumbing to a frenzy of which is you.

[inejinn]

Sunrises

---------- ͙͘͡★

Ava centric oneshot ! In which multiple sunrises happen while she's awake, most of the time in the kitchen, sometimes in the presence of John or Bob, always following the events of the movie (though Antonia is alive)

take place in the same universe as this oneshot I did. Prompt coming from a dc server!

also I'm half asleep betareading that so if there's weird stuff that's why

Usually, they all wake up pretty early, sometimes before the sun can rise in the sky.

The only exception might be Bob, but that's assuming it's a night where he didn't get any nightmares. Those are pretty uncommon.

And so most of the time, they're awake to see the sun grace the earth with its first rays.

Awake and not as gracious as the sun itself.

Walker drops a cup of coffee near Ava's toast with a grunt that might be a hello. Or a " I don't know what the fuck you're doing awake but take this and leave me alone" grunt, who knows.

She answers with one as well.

Today's not a morning chit-chat day. It's more like a "drowning anyone who annoys me in my coffee" morning .

Walker settles at the opposite side of the kitchen, resolutely staring at anything but the other alive person there.

Definitely not a chit chat day, then. They end up staring at different things, him the sunrise, her the crumbs of her toast dissolving inside of the swirling liquid. Inside of the cup of hot beverage.

If she glares at it hard enough, she might will it not to go right through her hands after she's picked it up. Treating burns is no fun, and she really doesn't feel like asking Antonia for some aloe vera.

This isn't a bad pain day, she hasn't been feeling the familiar ache that goes with them, but this might be an on and off incorporeal day. She definitely spent too much time in the training room yesterday. It's not excruciating like it used to be, but, still.

If she's lucky, she'll only feel like the molecules inside of her bones are vibrating a little bit.

If she's not, then she'll have to go through missions, adding bruises-aches as well as her usual ones, or go through the day cooped up in her room.

If she really, really isn't lucky, worst come to worst, she could just bail out of there. Meets everyone's expectations of one of them giving up on this whole team idea: before they've even hit the one month mark.

They've been keeping score. Alexei's been tallying the days up on a whiteboard on the fridge, next to the list of chores they have to do (so Antonia won't forget, he says, but really, it's because three quarter of them are likely to forget to keep their space sanitary, including him).

3 weeks' already pretty much of a miracle, she'd say if she was asked.

It's, also, a miracle her and John haven't dissolved into pointless arguments or any further bickering yet.

When she stands up to grab cereals, she finds the sun is totally up now.

Same cups in front of them both. Different morning.

It's more early than last time : it's still dark outside. Wich means that there's only so many reasons for them to be up before the early lights of the day.

They don't talk about it. Don't even hint to it, as she just adds sugar cubes to her coffee and he just drinks his.

A car honk outside.

She waits for her sugar to melt. Takes a sip of her beverage.

It's a little while before John breaks the silence.

"The punching-bag holder's broken again"

That probably means his anger issues hit too hard on said punching bag again. Theoretically, she could be a little shit and teases him about it, but it's too early for that. This has nothing to do with the coffee he made.

"Yeah? I'm not going to be the one putting it back"

"I assumed ", he rolls his eyes so hard that must have gotten him a headache. "I don't feel like any of you are very enthusiastic about cleaning up"

Nevermind. It didn't, or he's just able to be snarky in spite of it.

It'd be unfair if it didn't.

The peace treaty has been broken once again. That man can not spend more than 5minutes being silent and agreeable.

"Says the man who's left his uncooked pasta in the fridge for 3days now", she mutters, rolling her eyes while turning towards the open living room.

"I didnt-", he starts, and she tunes his ass out immediately.

'There are three plates colonizing the space inside the fridge that are definitely full of pasta.', she's almost tempted to add, but.

The sun still hasn't fully rised, so this means she can just deal with social interactions later. Once it has risen. Fully. And then some. Her social batteries are even less replineshed than they usually are, wich means that they're at zero right now.

She hasn't slept in as long as Walker's pastas have been in the fridge, she's not going to bother keeping up with him.

No, she gazes at the far skyline instead. Huh. It'll almost be 7am soon already.

Usually, in the mornings, she has to ignore whatever's around her to focus on her body, the way it feels, what she'll get to do with it today. How she'll deal with the things around her.

Today, it's the opposite. As in, as she stands near the fridge, she's focusing on the sun on her skin and nothing else.

Nobody else in the tower is awake right now, or if they are, they're keeping to their room. Rare instance.

She's currently alone.

It's not an unwelcomed thing.

It means that she gets to sit on the couch with her shoes still on without Yelena or Alexei or John nabbing her about it. That she gets to sit without being annoyed or even stressed out.

Wich also means she's free to contemplate the fact it's been almost 5weeks since she hasn't taken an assignments. 32 days by now.

Except for Valentina's missions, obviously, but those are different now.

She's a different type of asset now. An asset that has teammates, for one.

And that gets to lounge around and enjoy her morning, for two.

That's free to take a nap there or wherever if she'd like to, catnapping under the newly regenerated sun beams.

"You know, I've never really enjoyed those", Bob says out of the blue, and she reconsider any thought about leaving to her room.

When Bob speaks out of the blue like that, you shut up and you listen, that's practically an untold rule of the Tower.

And so she shifts a little toward Bob, shutting up and only raising an eyebrow in acknowledgement.

"The sunrises, I mean. They're-- pretty great, right? I never used to consider them in a bad light, but, well. They're actually pretty nice when you pay attention to them.? "

Cluing in to the way he starts trailing off, she nods. "I get what you mean, I never really considered them before aswell. " It's not even a lie.

That seems to reassure him, even as he keeps fidgeting a little with his napkin.

She turns her gaze to the outside, and, yeah, the sunrise's actually pretty nice. There was a time when she didn't get to see them much, for reasons others than not being able to sleep.

"I mean, I'd prefer being able to sleep, but.. It's not that bad? This and the vibe and breakfast, I like it."

He's not mentioning being in other's company in those moments. She's not going to either, but she notices his body subtly move a little closer to her seat, and a tiny smile slips on her lips.

" I do too. Some of the others? They can be a pain in the ass when awake this early, but. They're not always too annoying"

She could mention that this is new to her aswell, but she doesn't, and since he doesn't ask her more about it, well.

It's not like she doesn't want to be honest, she usually doesn't care about being blunt, it's just. "Want to keep taking or just look at the sun? It is really nice." And, also: "I also don't feel all like talking about my childhood traumas this morning." Bobis fine, but being emotionally aware of herself and her feelings, this early in the morning no thanks you.

"Oh, no no, yeah, I understand! That's understandable. The tower's really great for that, looking at the sun and the sky. And the skyline. It's very nice."

" It *is* the best place for sightseeing. Did you ever try out the roof? It could force anyone into liking clouds or pastel blue."

"Oh no, please not you too.", he bemoans. For a second, she thinks he's being insulted on the behalf of the colour blue, but that quite obviously isn't the case.

There's got to be a story behind that. Seems like she has something to do for the few following minutes, then.

"What, don't like those? "

"No, no I don't, that's not the problem"-

[n0t-evenhere]

Heyyyy✂✂✂

What if MC just had to sit on Ray's belly so they can lick his Adams Apple (omg bro I need Ray sb rn)

Do you think Ray did self harm when he was with steel

Do you think ray would know what the Omegavirs is would he actually listen to MC explaining it would he be scared

Would ray know what hentai is and watch it with MC (I found out what it is and is scared)

What will Rays hormone monster look and be like?

What if MC jumps on top of Ray like raccoon style

What if Mc hides rays stuff and runs away

What if MC makes Ray come to a sleepover with like a whole bunch of people and watch horror movies

What if Mc drags Ray for no reason

What if Mc cat fights with Ray just to be mad and runs away to their friends house

What if Mc makes Ray come with them to their musical where MC has to kiss like 5 people in it (I forgot the name)

BYYEEE BYEE✂✂✂✂✂✂

Welcome welcome my feral friend!

Oh my lanta! You feral beast! 😂 do you remember how it’s said that Ray can serve it but struggles to receive? Welp, you got him locked down. A mess; shocked, absolutely bamboozled, absolutely horndog! Yea, after that you ain’t getting back up, whether you stay sitting or under him. Either way, best of luck to you.

Honestly, the second question, I feel like it’s possible he did; I wouldn’t put it past him. Even worse, if Rick (steel sheriff, made up name I gave him. Fits the bill in my mind) caught him. He’ll be…cruel. Hed mercilessly make fun of him, I wouldn’t put it past Rick to even make up a chant about it. Rick is a cruel cruel man. Teen Ray was easily hurt. Until he wasn’t.

He definitely is not an online man, he can hardly look at himself in the media, like…yuck. He had no idea fan fictions existed until we showed him. He wasn’t thrilled at first until he decided to turn your master plan on you. In short, there is NO way he’d have any idea what omega verse is. Not gonna lie, if the fan fiction freaked him out, this definitely will but, he’ll listen anyway. He nod and hum while thing. “Who the hell comes up with this kind of stuff?” This man doesn’t need to touch grass because he IS the grass.

…I…I just looked up what hentai is. I’ve heard of it but never looked further than that…got a google definition, (rip search history) if fabrication isn’t for him and omega stuff freaks him out, this ain’t it either. Like…he’s not with that. He ain’t watching that with you. 😂

Sorry to say but, never watched the he’d the show, don’t know much about it besides little ads. I’m not qualified to answer this question. 😭 didn’t even know there weee different ones.

Hey, similar to regular jumping on him, he’ll try to find a way to embarrass you a little. Leaving you hanging there like a raccoon. Maybe if he’s feeling kind hell catch you and spin you around in a hug.

You hide his stuff again? You’ve got five seconds to spill before he hold you down and makes you tell him, he’ll get it out of you one way or another. Sure he could read your mind but, where is the fun in that? If there’s time, he’ll drag it out of you. Tickle you till you are in pain and begging him to stop because it hurts now. 😔

If you invited him to a sleep over and watched horror movies all night, (which sounds so fun, down it before, watched all the Halloween movies thing.) Imagine him just pulling you onto his lap as you guys watch the movies. 😭 every ones in a whole you guys have to switch positions of sitting because he and you can’t sit still. Eventually he’ll fall asleep, man can’t pull an all nighter. (Wuss) he’s got a job that’s demanding. He’ll hold your hand in his sleep as you stay up watching the movie. 😖

Dragging Ray, come on, there are very few thing you could say or do to hurt his feelings. Hell just be amused you are trying.

Cat fight! Again! Nah, you aren’t running away after that. He won’t allow it, not unless you’re actually upset, even then he might not let you go. You don’t get to be petty and walk away like you’re free to do whatever. Yea. Nuh uh. You get back here. Grab you by the scruff of your neck deals. Prepare yourself! Another wrestler hold in bound!!!!

I love musicals, don’t worry you get kiss by five other dudes in the show? Yea, he knows it’s just a show but, it will take five kisses maybe six to replace all those kisses that weren’t from him. You are not escaping this, he must replace those kisses from others with his own. In way, think of it as disinfecting you lips with lysol but he is the Lysol. 😂 pucker up butter cup.

[notafashionstatementitsasideblog]

Todays crash out over MCR is brought to you by this video I found on tiktok before it got band earlier

[fullscoreshenanigans]

hello :D i dont know if its just me but i m still curious about how we can find ray's actual birthday, Kaiu said it's possible yet i feel like no one managed to figure it out, i know it's not necessarily the most crucial part of the tpn universe but i always wonder abt itt

Hi! ^^

He did mention that in a WSJ interview (translation found here):

In that same interview, he also mentioned how no one correctly guessed what was in Ray's letter left out as bait for Krone, and then confirmed in chapter 181.3 that it was what a lot of people initially suspected. He's also given conflicting answers about who names the children and his feelings on Noremma (or Sugita has as his proxy), so I could see it as one of those "y'all, the WSJ grind had me running so ragged for almost four years that it caused me to have serious health issues, it can be whatever date in this timeframe that you want it to be" type of deals with how little consequence it has unless one's really big on astrology (or for some lighthearted antics play into some teasing if he's actually younger than Norman lol, but I don't think they messed around with the order the children were tattooed as another layer of deception).

@temporoom's calculations are the most in-depth dive into the Grace Field identification markers that I've seen (posted here, here, here, and corrected version here) putting it between January 31st and February 5th. I think to be safe, the farm staff wouldn't put the fake date in the same month he was actually born in to further push the thought from unconsciously rising up in Isabella's mind, so I'd probably put it in February, though my personal biggest takeaway from all this is that it was another thing Isabella and the farm system denied him and separated him from his siblings.

[goldentigerfestival]

Yuri's dialogue (JP) is so fascinating to study, like... the repetitive use of certain words/phrases that others use sparingly but he uses constantly. the way it feels like his vocabulary is more expansive than what he uses, but he defaults to a "comfort" level of speech. the way it mixes in with his sort of "street talk" words and the sheer level of informality. the way his "street talk" phrasing is contrasted by the tone of his voice (on that note, people I know who also know JP are also very endeared by these aspects of him so I KNOW IT'S NOT JUST ME!!!).

'cause the thing is, he uses phrases that yeah, other people do use, but he uses a handful over and over and over (contrast to other characters' sparing use of repetition). it's actually... really refreshing? it sounds more relatable and less "video game/anime/JRPG/RPG" writing or something, idk. like closer to how a real person would speak.

I do my best in my translations not to make things sound too stiff across the board, but Yuri makes it so easy. it's why I'm so interested in translating all his lines in Vesperia, like... the actual, original tone for him with his original wording because it's smth Eng only players don't get to experience ('cause even if you listen with JP audio, if you don't know the language, ofc you're gonna miss out on context. it's nobody's fault for not knowing, just... they unfortunately miss out). the thing is, there are a lot of times when the lines in and of themselves are not contextually incorrect in the English ver (usually the situation for smaller scenes, because they altered the text outright for more important stuff which was the stuff that originally set me off, but there were also plenty of cases of just vocal tone shifting with the correct context that still gave off the wrong impression), but Yuri's tone is shifted away from the original in Eng even though it's completely and perfectly translatable.

I am by no means about to translate the entire game because let's face it, I really don't care that much for Vesperia on the whole. I'm kinda stuck with it because Yuri's there lo and behold I actually am WAY more engaged in his stories in Rays, Link and Asteria because it's an amazing character put into circumstances where he actually gets to shine and feels more alive, which Vesperia did not provide nearly as well with its very disjointed story. also, Tales gachas have banger stories that are arguably better than the mainline games, and they regularly make Yuri a very central character to the gachas. Crestoria was also about to do it until they pulled the plug on that game and I'm pretty confident something interesting has been lost to the world. also I just generally don't have the energy or motivation to do that, so... I'll only be focusing on Yuri's lines, especially because his stuff is where the bulk of the messing around was. he's just insanely fun to translate for and I love burying myself head first into his speech.

will I actually finish this project? dunno. will I get around to posting it? whatever I get done (so all of it if I complete it), and if I decide to call it quits then I'll post what I have at the time I decide that. will it take a long time? probably, but I can always mention stuff along the way...

[seven-thewanderer]

Part 3 of the update!!

starting off here, I doodled Lunar’s first designs, since I shared the design which would be his current design

But here’s the first ones!

(sorry that it might be blurry, I’m not on the device where I drew it)

The one on the left, labeled L-v1, is Lunar when he still worked with Eclipse, and was evil gremlin

The one on the right meanwhile, labeled L-v2, is Lunar when they first got their own body (the nanomachine one)

Now, since the rest are different from this..

Since my Strayed!AU actually isn’t just bound to SAMS, LAES, OR MGAFS, but basically… all the shows!

So next, we have the ghost kids!!

In the (Roxanne Wolf and Gregory Show, or RWAGS) lore, they’re called Elizabeth/Lizzy and Evan, and Lizzy’s fine… I just don’t know about Evan

Like I did research and Evan might be the canon name, but like… really?

(No offense to people named Evan)

But for my AU, I might use one of the other name possibilities, like Chris, or Nelson, idk yet

Also here’s their ghost form that I totally didn’t almost forget to add :3

Next up…

I also did Funtime Freddy & Bonbon!!

Technically it’s a doodle too, but I colored it in more cleanly

but ye Funtime Freddy!! He looks very cuddly in my opinion, and honestly he’s just a silly lil (big) guy!!

So goofy though!!

I also colored in a doodle of Bonbon before this one, since apparently Bonbon has legs sometimes, so I doodled this one!

I tried to put little notes to explain it, but I’ll just re-explain it here:

The fur color of his legs & rest-of-body is different because he wasn’t really meant to have legs originally, so it’s a different fur color & material, since they were built for him with a different fabric material

Also, the lower half of the legs are just the endoskeleton since they probably ran out of fur…

But yeye that’s it!!

Technically, there’s a lot more character concepts I did as well (Freddy, Glamrock Freddy, Glamrock Bonnie, Helpi, the Computer/Spaniard, Monty, Nebula, etc.), buuuut I grew too lazy to finish them XD so they’re just uncolored doodles

[yujateaandpi]

Hi guys! Yujatea here! If you enjoy my work, I’d like to please ask for a moment of your time to consider helping this family I’m supporting! Shaima is a mother of four children, Abdul Rahim, Walid, Majdi, and baby Amal. Shaima is struggling to support her children since her husband disappeared, and needs urgent help with providing food and resources for them, especially as winter sweeps through Gaza! This family’s fundraising campaign (@familgazaamal1) is completely vetted and I’m trying to use my platforms to raise awareness on their behalf. I’ll be opening my commissions to raise funds for their campaign so keep your eyes peeled! I’ll also post their fundraiser link in my highlights as well! Thanks guys! Let’s do our part to reclaim kindness and uplift each other!

Here's a message from the family:

In Gaza, where conflict looms over daily life, children’s dreams remain a ray of hope. Abdul Rahim, a young boy, dreams of becoming a famous artist, using his drawings to tell the world about the beauty of his homeland. Walid, on the other hand, dreams of playing football in a big stadium, representing his country despite the obstacles around him. Majdi, a cat lover, dreams of becoming a kind person and helping children. Majdi, who dreams of opening an animal shelter to care for animals in Gaza. Even in the midst of war, these children cling to their dreams, believing that one day, despite the difficulties, they will achieve their goals. Their dreams are not only about personal success, but also about shedding light on a world filled with darkness. These dreams symbolize the resilience of Gaza’s children, showing that hope and determination can survive even the most difficult circumstances.

In the heart of the ongoing war, Shaima lives with her four children, constantly struggling with pain and waiting. Her husband, who was once the source of security and happiness, left a long time ago, facing the challenges of war far from them. Every day, Shaima makes earnest efforts to keep life going despite the hardships. She strives to provide food and shelter while trying to instill hope in the hearts of her children, who are still waiting for their father’s return, a father they know little about other than his absence. Her four children, despite their young age, carry great hopes in their hearts. The eldest, who everyone sees as the "little father," dreams of their father returning to embrace them as he did in the past. The youngest, on the other hand, wakes up at night searching for his father's voice, wishing for his return to feel safe again. Shaima's dream is every mother’s dream in this war: for her husband to return safely so they can live together again in peace and security. She dreams of the days when her husband filled their home with joy, and she prays for the end of the war so their family can reunite once more. Yet, amid the destruction and tears, hope remains their strength. Shaima knows that her patience and resilience are what keep the family going. Despite the difficult days, she continues to resist, dreaming of the moment when her family will be whole again, with her husband and the father of her children back home.

[enterstellars]

and with that i do believe that my run with interstellar in imax has come to an end.

[leafyeyes417]

Jeweled Rage

Danny knew he had been staring too long at the guy, judging by the suspicious glances from him and the two he was with. But really his mind was kinda stuck on how the guy had managed to get some kind of supernatural jewelry stuck in his chest.

It didn’t feel exactly ghostly but he knew it was on the dead spectrum. He just knew that this was the reason Clockwork had given specific (if cryptic, like always) instructions when he was going to meet Jazz in Gotham.

He inwardly groaned as the trio made their way over to him, deciding to confront him for staring.

“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at me?” Jason said aggressively.

Danny grimaced. “Yeah… I have absolutely no clue how to start this conversation but I can already tell you it is not heading in the direction you think it is.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s not any less suspicious than before.”

Danny sighed. “Look, I was given specific instructions before I came to Gotham by a guy who is cryptic up the wazoo but knows basically everything. I’m supposed to tell ‘the one with the Jeweled Rage’ that ‘The Hellblazer is the answer to ending the Rage.’ And since you are the one with the Jewelry problem, that is your message.”

Dick blinks, turning to look at Tim. “Jewelry problem? Did I miss something while I was working out today?”

Both Tim and Jason look just as confused, turning to look skeptically at Danny, with Tim asking, “What Jewelry problem are you talking about?”

Danny frowned. “You mean you don’t know about the piece of supernatural Jewelry stuck in his chest?” He says, pointing at Jason.

The three freeze before Jason bursts out, “If there was something stuck in my chest how wasn’t it seen by an x-ray?! I know I’ve broken my ribs more than once over the years!”

Danny deadpans. “Unless it was a supernatural x-ray the chances of seeing it is microscopic. Supernatural shit is weird.”

Dick suddenly reaches out, grabbing Danny’s wrist. “You are coming with us while we get this figured out.”

Danny gives a bare minimum of resistance, face resigned, already knowing something like this would happen. “I better be fed while being held hostage or I will ensure you have the worst minor inconveniences for a month.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ when rafe accidentally snaps on bambi!reader

warnings: a little bit of crying, hurt + comfort

a/n: thank you so much to the anon who sent in this link <3 this little drabble is inspired by it!! i might open up req’s soon because even though i have prompt ideas already, lately i’ve just felt uninspired to write them out..

“are you almost ready?!” rafe called out from the front door, his truck keys hanging from his fingers. you didn’t respond, instead you panicked once you realized you weren’t even close to finishing your makeup. “oh, god..” you whimpered, scrambling to your feet to try and put a quick outfit together while you patted in your blush.

at your lack of response, rafe cursed under his breath before slamming the door shut and making his way to your room. “are you fucking serious?” you jumped when you heard his voice, your head shooting in his direction as you stood there, dumbfounded. your hair rollers were still wrapped tightly in your hair, your robe hanging haphazardly off your shoulders. it was needless to say you looked far from being ready.

“son of a bitch—” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together as he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh falling from his lips. he was already irritated upon arriving to your place. rafe had spent all afternoon arguing with ward over some ‘cameron development’ stuff, he had deadlines he already accepted he wasn’t going to be able to meet, it was like a thousand degrees outside and to top it all off; he was hungry.

“we’re just getting something to eat, bambi. you could honestly just leave the house like this.” rafe grumbled, already moving to get ahold of your elbow and drag you out. “what?! no— ray, can you please just give me ten minutes? all i have to do is put on some clothes and finish my makeup real quick. i’ll even take my rollers out in the truck, okay?” rafe studied you for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he let out a deep breath.

“fine,” he nodded, “i’m gonna go turn the ac on in the truck, then. please try to make this fast.” you muttered an ‘okay..’ before spinning around and taking a seat at your vanity. you worked as quickly as you could, only getting as far as putting on some lip liner and lipgloss before you heard a honk outside. curling your lashes hastily, you wasted no time in slipping on a dress you hadn’t worn in a while.

grabbing your purse on the way out, you skipped down the stone walkway just in time for rafe to roll his window down. “do you have everything? your phone?” you paused. your phone was on your bed last time you saw it. “uhm, i’ll be right back..” you apologized when you saw the scowl on rafe’s face. your boyfriend shook his head when you tripped, nearly sending yourself on the ground as you rushed to go back inside. setting your purse down on the couch, you grabbed your phone and walked back out, your chest rising and falling as you tried to remain calm and collected.

“did you lock the door?” oh, you could just cry right now. “no..” you winced, walking up to the truck so rafe could give you his key. “my, god, what the hell is going on today? it’s like everyone is trying to piss me off.” you ignored his words, quicky making your way to the front door so you could lock it shut. it wasn’t until you were halfway down the driveway when you realized your purse wasn’t on your shoulder. “wait, i forgot one more thing—” that was it. you had definitely pushed rafe past his limits now.

rafe snapped, the vein in his forehead bulging out of his skin as he shouted. “holy shit, just get in the fucking truck!” he waved his hands in the air as if you couldn’t see him standing right in front of you, his volume alone making you jolt. you stared blankly at him, your chest caving in on itself as rafe blinked, both of you sharing a knowing look. rafe watched your face morph as your chin wobbled and your eyes welled up with tears.

“i’m sorry—” he exhaled, instantly wrapping his arms around you, “i’m so sorry, baby, i won’t do that again.” you sniffled, letting him embrace you. it took you having to cry to make rafe realize he’d been acting like an asshole since he got here. “you know that scares me!” you cried, the velcrow of your rollers tickling his neck. “i know, i know,” he cradled your head, pressing kisses along your cheek, “here, we’ll just order something instead, yeah? we don’t have to go anywhere.” he turned off the truck, guiding you inside by the small of your back.

[maryangelex]

loser!reader x simon riley

loser!reader who’s hired by lasswel to help price with the immense amount of paperwork that he never gets to. who’s assigned to sit pretty at the beaten desk outside of his office. but I like the idea of reader not being the typical “sexy assistant” but more like loser girl frumpy sweater and thick rimmed glasses type of assistant who still gets these Kyle and Johnny riled up working extra hard and making dorks out of themselves trying to woo you but you’re just too oblivious to men’s advances. not simon though, he’s the one that’s the most awkward yet somehow effective? you get hired and on your first day, as you acclimate to your office with your matching pastel supplies that you so delicately organize across your desk to give this t-filled office a feminine touch, one by one the boys drop off their report files at your desk to be revised and handed over to price. the first one’s Kyle, who showers you in compliments that go way over your head, “sargeant Garrick sure is polite!” Is all you really think of it; kinda frustrating for him. the next one coming over is Johnny, who hands you his files with his eyes eating you up like you’re a bar of chocolate. Johnny makes you feel um, intimidated? it’s the way he’s got that look in his eyes that feels like he’ll eat you whole, like he’s got X-ray vision staring right through that bulky knitted sweater. It makes your cheeks turn beet red in embarrassment when he makes comments and one-liners to get you worked up. the last one to visit your desk that first day caught you off-guard. while you were turned around alphabetizing the manila folders in the file cabinet behind you, you turned around to the large apparition of a skull-faced man that might as well have been a hallucination because 2 seconds ago he was not there and a man that size should be impossible to go unnoticed. your heart jumps and gets caught in your throat when you turn around and see him; dark and massive and the only visible human feature in him are the dark brown eyes behind that mask. you greet him politely through a stutter as you return to your seat, and all he responds with is an extended arm with the reports in hand. you mutter a thank you, your throat constricted, and what you get in return is a grunt before he turns on his heels and disappears down the hallway.

you’re scared shitless of that man on your very first day.

little did you know, simon���s face under the mask was scarlet red and flushed hot the second he saw your innocent glimmering eyes behind your skewed frames, making him unable to get a word out and having no other option but to retreat.

[bartxnhood]

ANY VARIATION OF READER X THUNDERBOLTS BUCKY AND THE TEAM BEING TF U HAVE A GF THANK YOU AND ILY

girlfriend? | bucky barnes

| thunderbolts!bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: john walker and minor thunderbolts spoilers!!!!!

a/n: YAY!!! IM SO EXCITED TO WRITE FOR BUCKY AND MARVEL AGAIN!!! i also decided that this would probably take place after the events of the movie, and i took inspiration from clint hiding his family but, with reader! so, i hope i did your vision justice!!

Copyright © 2025 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧

the smoke was dense and thick, making it almost impossible to see within five feet. the smell of sulfur and concrete filled the nostrils of the ‘new avengers’.

new york has seen yet another attack, this time by another outer space alien thingy that bucky couldn’t remember.

there’s a dreadful silence between the group, all stuck in their own minds, trying to figure out just what went wrong. how they got defeated so quickly.

he stood with his hands on his hips, trying to regain his breath after being slammed into a plethora of floors from one of the skyscrapers.

ava hunched over holding her midsection while also trying to catch her breath. yelena, leaning against a fallen slab of a building while clenching her arm. walker, somewhere else, blowing off steam as his shield was snapped in half, and alexei going on some sort of rant.

“it’s fine, this is fine” the broody older man speaks, his thick accent grating against buckys ears. “everybody get up!” the red guardian claps, trying to pump up the group. “we are the thunderbolts!!!”

yelena rolls her eyes, keeping a hand pressed on her arm, “dad, stop”. she looks at the man with sharp eyes. they say optimism is good to have on a team, but alexei had too much. it often got annoying.

turning a corner, walker, stuffing something in his suit pocket, looks to the others. “we’ve been compromised.”

ava stands, crossing her arms. “what?” she looks between bucky and yelena, who have the same look on their face. it isn’t dread, it isn’t worry, it’s something much worse.

alexei mutters some swear words in russian under his breath. and for a moment, no one knows what to do. they aren’t a team, they have no backup, and bucky knows that sam won’t help him.

yet again, he’s alone.

“well, what now?” ava asks, her attention trained on the white widow. “ah!” alexei holds up his fingers, then snaps, carrying a proud look on his face. “a safe house!”

everyone pauses, stealing glances at each other with a blank expression. clearly growing tired of the red guardians persona. “oh, you’ve got to be kidding me..” ava exasperates, before taking a few steps away from the group.

bucky contemplates for a moment, hes staring off at the gray rubble beneath his black boots. he only had a handful of options, one of those being sam. as he was not on the best terms with sam, he figured his last option would suffice. you.

“i know a place.”

the sun was just rising, its misty rays barely peeking through the thick fog. the air was cool and damp, the ground beneath covered with an early morning dew. a cabin tucked away amidst the trees stood silent and still, as if waiting to welcome the day.

the trees surrounding the cabin were barely visible through the dense fog, their leaves shimmering with dewdrops like tiny jewels on their green surfaces. the air was silent, save for the soft sound of the nearby river.

stepping off the quinjet, bucky stopped at the edge of the ramp, looking at his home he shared with you. he felt happy to be back home, but a part of him dreaded the following events.

bucky knew he was risking everything by bringing the others to his home, to you. someone who bucky made sure to keep hidden from everyone. he didn’t do it because he was ashamed or didn’t love you, but he did it because he loved you so much. it was better to keep you off file and off record, for your safety.

if anything happened to you, bucky would’ve surely lost his mind.

“why the hell are we at a cabin, bucky?” walker quips, following the other super soldier. “we can’t go on vacation now.”

“shut up, walker,” bucky snaps, shooting a glaring look over his shoulder as he waits for the rest of the others to fall in behind him. “what are we doing here? we clearly need a safe house,” yelena chimes in, ava and alexei adding something under their breaths.

bucky can already feel himself getting agitated with the anti-heroes. it’s hard enough working with people that collectively cannot get along, it was doomed from the veining. “it’s safe, just trust me.”

crossing the threshold of the dark oak cabin, the scent of fresh laundry mixed with mahogany, vanilla, and cashmere filled his nostrils, and in an instant, the tension in his shoulders dropped.

home. the living room was cleaned, and a few blankets on the leather sofa. you must've napped. a few records scattered around the record table, one still on the turntable, but the record had stopped playing long ago.

“baby? i’m home!” he calls out, not seeing any sign of your presence as he steps into the living room. it’s quiet, almost too quiet. bucky steps further in. “baby doll?”

the team steps in hesitantly, their hands hovering over whatever they have to defend themselves with. sharing puzzled glances with each other as bucky calls out to you.

you emerge from the stairway with a laundry basket on your hip. a quiet gasp gets caught in your throat as your eyes look past your boyfriend and see his co-workers. “what the..” you mutter, your eyes finally landing on bucky. “bucky?”

“we had nowhere else to go,” he explains, the wear and tear of fighting visible on his body. his eyes hold even more exhaustion than he let on.

you drop the laundry basket on the sofa and approach him, he hopes his arms and pulls you in, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

yelena interrupts, “Im sorry..” the blonde holds out her hands, nose crunching with confusion. “what the hell is happening here?”

“yeah..what the hell is this?” walker stands behind yelena, his arms crossed now.

“guys, meet my girlfriend, y/n,” he introduced, holding you by his side. his thumb rubbing up and down your shoulders.

“hi..” you smile, holding up your hand to wave awkwardly. your freehand wrapping around buckys midsection.

the team is left speechless, all mouths are open, but no words are formed.

“girlfriend?!” yelena is flabbergasted, her eyes almost popping out of her head.

“oh! this is wonderful!! alexei is pushing past the other three, walking towards you with a big, dopey smile. “young love!” he cheered, clapping loudly.

you laugh awkwardly, again, because what do you do when the avengers are standing in your house?

“buck?” you look up at him, he had a less than amused look on his face.

“we just need some place to lay low, get patched up. i didn’t know what else to do.”

“ah, okay,” you pat his chest playfully, an amused laugh coming from you. “i can help with that.”

“girlfriend…” walker whispers as you begin leading the group downstairs to a makeshift med bay.

“shut it, walker!” buckys voice booms from a few feet ahead.

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P2)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: this is mad cause I said part 2 would take me a while but that message motivated me so here part 2. BAHHAAH. this is gonna be a series so if you'd wanted to be added to the taglist lmk!!! okay p3 will now officially take me a bit of time (this may be a lie idk).

warnings: mentions of alcohol, rafe topper and kelce being rude af

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13)

The midday sun hung high in the sky, casting golden rays over the manicured lawns of the country club. Y/N adjusted the tray in her hands, balancing a margarita and beer as she approached a familiar table near the patio. Mr. and Mrs. Harris, long-time members, sat comfortably, the older man flipping lazily through the club’s newsletter while his wife fixed the diamond bracelet on her wrist. 

“There’s our favourite girl”

Mr. Harris greeted her with a knowing smile as Y/N set down their drinks, “Tell me, sweetheart, did you hear about the chaos at the Lewis’ fundraiser last weekend?”

 “Oh, no way- what happened?”

Y/N forced a light chuckle, tucking the tray under her arm. Mr. Harris leaned in, delighted to have an audience to entertain their gossip, “Their youngest daughter got caught sneaking around with that auto repair boy. Can you imagine? In front of everyone…”

“That must have been quite the scene.”

Y/N bit back her smile from spreading too widely across her face. Rich people drama never failed to entertain. Mrs. Harris flashes her a warm smile, taking a sip of her margarita- the diamond bracelet around her wrist catching the light as she thanks the girl for her beverage. Y/N’s eyes catch on the jewelry, and before she can stop herself, she hums in appreciation.

“That’s gorgeous,” she says, nodding towards it. 

“Is it new?”

The older woman practically beams, lifting her wrist to give Y/N a better look. “Oh, you noticed! Yes, it was a gift from Reggie,” she says, casting a pointed look at the older man in front of her, who merely chuckles and shakes his head. Y/N teases lightly, hand coming out to pat his arm,

“You spoil her, sir,” 

“Only because she lets me” 

Mr. Harris says with a wink, making his wife laugh as she waves him off playfully. As Y/N picked up their empty plates placing it on her tray, from the corner of her eye she watched as Mr. Harris pulled a crisp fifty from his wallet and tucked it onto her tray. 

“For keeping us entertained.”

“You’re too kind Mr. Harris, enjoy your drinks!”

Y/N accepted it with practiced ease, flashing a grateful smile as she turned away. Making her way back toward the bar, she spotted Sofia behind it, stacking glasses. Y/N made her way over, letting out a sigh as she leaned against the counter.

“You’re their favorite,” Sofia comments, smirking as she nudges Y/N’s arm. “They practically light up when they see you.”

“Please, they just like that I actually listen to their gossip.”

Y/N snorts, leaning against the counter for a brief second before swiping a cool glass of water. Sofia hums, her tone teasing. 

“That, and you’re a kiss-ass.”

Y/N gasps dramatically, placing a hand over her chest, “Excuse me, I provide an excellent guest experience? Some of us have to work for our tips, Miss ‘My Customer Just Slid Me a Twenty for Smiling at Him.’”

“What can I say? I have a very approachable face Y/N.”

Sofia grins, shrugging as she picks up her tray. Y/N rolls her eyes but laughs anyway, feeling a brief moment of normalcy in the otherwise long day. They’ve been working side by side for years now, Sofia being one of the only reasons Y/N hasn’t completely lost her mind at this job.

“So, what’s our bet for today?” Sofia asks, lowering her voice as they both glance around the club’s patio area. “Who’s going to cause a scene first? My money’s on Calloway- she’s already on her second mojito- and she asked for a double.”

Y/N bites her lip, pretending to consider it, “Tempting, but I think Jacobs is gonna start yelling at the golf caddies again.”

“Hmmm” Sofia considers before she smiles, “Loser buys dinner from the wreck after our shift?”

“Go on then”

Y/N grins, picking up her own tray just as a new table waves her over. As she walks away, she hears Sofia call out, “Hey, if the Harrington's try to marry you off to their nephew again, let me know- I wanna watch this time!”

 “As if they’d mix their pure blood with a dirty Pogue.”

Y/N jokes as she glances over her shoulder with an amused smile. Sofia bursts out laughing, nearly spilling a drink off her tray. Y/N just shakes her head, biting back a smile as she heads to her next table.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two girls had slipped away from the chaos of the bar, taking refuge in the quieter space near the staff lockers at the back of the club. The noise from the restaurant faded, replaced by the hum of the kitchen and the occasional sound of clinking dishes. Sofia leaned casually against one of the lockers, a playful smile stretching across her face as she crossed her arms.

"So..." Sofia started, her voice light and teasing as she glanced at the girl, "tell me… who's got your attention these days?"

"Nothing to tell, Sof"

Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes with a small smile. Sofia raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying into her friend's deflection of the conversation. "Come on, there's gotta be someone. Or are you too busy with all the rich Kook’s checking you out at the club?" Y/N let out a dry laugh, her expression shifting to a bit of an eye roll. 

"Please. They only like me when I'm serving them drinks, Sofia."

"Well, why not date one of them?" Sofia teased, her grin widening.

 "I mean, might as well elevate the Pogue name, right?"

Y/N couldn’t help but snort at that. "Yeah, maybe you can do that first," she shot back, a teasing glint in her eyes. "I'm too busy trying to make money right now."

"Whatever. But you know you can talk to me, right?" 

Her tone shifted, softening just a bit. There was a concern in her eyes that Y/N wasn’t used to seeing, a genuine care that made her hesitate. She’d known Sofia for ages- she was basically her best friend. Yet she could never bring herself to tell her about her problems as she knew the girl had burdens of her own. Y/N’s smile faltered for a moment, and she glanced down at the floor, fighting the subtle shift in her mood. After a beat of silence, she forced the smile back.

 "Yeah- but I’m fine."

"You know you can’t lie to me, right?"

Sofia studied her carefully, then leaned in with a knowing look.  Y/N chuckled, though it was light and forced. She shrugged, brushing it off with a quick wave of her hand. 

"Don’t worry about it. Really."

Sofia lingered for a moment, looking at her, her smile soft and understanding, she didn’t push further though, sensing that the girl wasn’t ready to open up. The brief silence between them was interrupted by the sudden buzz of Y/N’s phone in her pocket. She pulled it out, glancing down at the screen. The name on the caller ID made her relax a little- JJ. Without thinking, she answered the call, her tone shifting instantly to something lighter.

"Hey, Jay. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, everything’s great!" JJ’s voice came through the phone, a familiar mixture of excitement and laughter in the background. "I just wanted to uh- check in. How’s the shift going?"

Y/N smiled softly as his voice flooded through the small speaker of her cracked up phone, "Same old, same old- serving drinks and pretending to care." JJ laughed, the sound of music and voices rising in the background. 

"Sounds fun- uh anyways, I need a little favor." Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, "What’s up?" There was a brief pause before Jay’s voice grew a little more pleading,

"Uh, I was wondering if I could borrow some money?"

Y/N’s stomach tightened at the request, but she was already too familiar with this routine. She groaned lightly, her hand coming up to rub her eye, and she couldn't tell if it was from irritation or from exhaustion.

"JJ..." 

"Please Y/N, you know I’ll pay you back! I’m literally begging you on my knees right now- but you can't see cause well you're on the phone but uh- Hey Pope! Come take a picture of me man-"

Despite herself, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile at his stupid behavior. She shook her head, the playful warmth in her expression impossible to hide as she rested her chin on her hand, arm being propped up on her knee as she sat on the small bench near the lockers. 

"You’re not real."

"So, you’ll help me out?" 

JJ asked, practically bouncing through the phone. Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t resist. "Fine. Go home, go into my room, and in the back of the cupboard under the bottom shelf, there’s a small jewelry box with flowers on it. Open it and you’ll find cash in there."

"YES- yes okay, I love you sis, you’re the best"

JJ’s voice immediately brightened and Y/n could hear a chorus of ‘thanks Y/N!’ being called out from around him, and she didn't need to think hard to guess who they were coming from. Y/N smiled softly, her heart lightning just a little. 

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t blow it on something stupid, okay?"

"I promise- Thanks!" 

He replied, and the line went dead with a click. Y/N sat there for a moment, staring at the phone in her hand. She could feel Sofia’s eyes on her, watching with that quiet understanding that only a real friend could have. After a moment, Y/N let out a breath, rolling her eyes as she tucked the phone back into her pocket and Sofia’s voice called out to her,

“He’s not paying you back.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N walked back toward the bar with Sofia, her fingers idly flipping onto the page of her writing pad. She lets out a breath as she approaches her next table, scribbling down the table number as she speaks, eyes still lowered. "Hi, I'm Y/N, I'll be your server—" Her tone drops as she finally looks up. "—tonight."

Jesus Christ. 

Are you serious?

Sitting at the table, looking like they own the place, were Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. All three of them already smirking, like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment. She straightens her posture, pen tapping against the notepad. 

"What can I get you guys?"

"I dunno," Topper hums, leaning back lazily in his chair, arm crossing and eyes darting down to the menu on the table. 

"What do you recommend?"

"The menu is right in front of you Thornton"

She deadpans. She knows exactly what they’re like, thinking of the smallest things to make her life more difficult as if working a 12 hour shift wasn't enough. Kelce snickers, while Rafe just watches her, eyes practically burning into her.

"Mmm, yeah, but, like, what’s good here?" Topper presses, tapping the menu against the table like it’s a drum. Y/N clenches her jaw, her patience thinning by the second. 

"Everything is fine."

"Fine? That’s not reassuring" Kelce says, shaking his head teasingly, "I think we need a little more detail Y/N."

"Are you actually going to order, or are you just gonna waste my time?"

She grits her teeth, looking at the three of them expectantly. Topper raises his brows, amused at her small outburst. 

"Damn, someone's in a mood today- you on your period or what?"

"You’re making it worse," she mutters under her breath, flipping her notepad open again. Rafe finally leans forward, elbows on the table, drawing her attention whether she likes it or not. "I’ll take a burger," he drawls, "medium rare. No pickles, extra onions. And make sure the fries are crispy, not soggy." Kelce hums, “I’ll do the same” then he sits up slightly like he’s just remembered something, "Oh, yeah, and no tomatoes on mine. Actually- no, extra tomatoes. But, like, not too much. And ranch on the side." Topper drums his fingers against the table. 

" I think I want the chicken or- nah, maybe the steak. Is the steak good today?"

Y/N stares at him blankly as the three of them ramble at her, her wrist hurting a little from scribing their over complicated orders down furiously down on the notepad.

 "You think I cook the food?"

"Fine, fine. Chicken. But if it's dry, I’m sending it back."

Topper just grins as he shoves the menu in her direction. She exhales sharply through her nose, taking the menu that was seconds prior shoved into her face. 

"Is that all?"

"How about a smile, hmm?" 

Rafe tilts his head, eyes practically devouring the irritation on her face as he lifts his drink to his lips, his voice smooth, "not very welcoming are you." Her grip tightens on the menus in her hand. For a second, she debates telling him exactly where he can shove them- but she can't. Not here, not in uniform, not at her actual job. So instead, she forces out a tight, practiced smile, her teeth clenched behind it. 

"Better?"

"Drop the attitude too"

Rafe smirks, tilting his glass towards her. Her smile drops immediately. She spins on her heel before she can stop herself from rolling her eyes, making her way back toward the bar to place their orders. She makes it back to the kitchen, her jaw tight as she punches in the obnoxiously complicated order. The machine beeps as she keys in the final modifications- extra ice in his lemonade, but not too much, a lime wedge, not a lemon, sauce on the side of Kelce’s plate but not in a separate dish. She exhales sharply, rolling her shoulders before spinning on her heel to head back to the floor. She’s barely a few steps out when she collides with someone. A clatter fills the air as metal cutlery spills across the floor, scattering in every direction.

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry!" 

Y/N blurts out, slapping her hands over her face before immediately dropping to her knees, helping the dishwasher- who looks just as startled as her- to gather the mess. The entrance to the kitchen is already chaotic, the sound of orders being called, plates being stacked, and oil sizzling only adding to the overwhelming noise. Her cheeks burn, humiliated, as she hurriedly stacks the forks and knives back onto the tray. She doesn’t even have to look up to know she has an audience. From across the room, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce sit at their table, watching it all unfold. Rafe has a slow smirk stretched across his lips, a lazy amusement glinting in his eyes as he leans back in his seat. He’s eating this up- seeing her flustered, on her knees, scrambling to pick up silverware like it’s the most humiliating thing she could be doing.

“What a klutz”

He says as he watches, head tilting slightly, gaze locked on her flushed face as she hurries to her feet, murmuring another apology to the dishwasher before brushing her hands off on her apron.

Now balancing two plates in her hands, Y/N strides back to the table, keeping her expression neutral despite the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. She carefully places one dish in front of Rafe, the other in front of Topper, before Kelce leans back in his chair, arms crossed. 

"Uh, where's mine?"

"I only have two hands" 

Y/N says, voice tight. Rafe tsks, shaking his head, "Talking to him like that- reeeealll unprofessional."

Her eyes snap to his, burning with frustration, but she swallows down the urge to say something she’ll regret. Instead, she presses her lips into a thin line before spinning on her heel, marching back to the kitchen. She snatches Kelce’s plate from the counter with a little too much force, returning to the table and placing it in front of him. He doesn’t even bother to say thanks- typical. 

“I need tomato sauce” 

Topper pipes up, waving a fry lazily in the air. Y/N exhales sharply through her nose but nods. “Sure thing.” She turns back toward the kitchen retrieving the sauce, and places it in front of him. Topper barely acknowledges it before adding,

 “Actually, I also need ranch.”

She forces a pleasant hum, her fingers gripping her notepad as she walks off again. She can feel their eyes on her back, the smug expressions radiating from the table. Grabbing the next bottle from the kitchen, she strides back out, setting it down a little harder than necessary.

“Oh, and mayo?” 

Topper asks just as she’s about to leave. Her teeth sink into the inside of her cheek, forcing a neutral expression. She exhales slowly, then pastes on a saccharine smile. 

“Will that be all, Topper?”

“Sure thing babe.” 

He grins, winking at her. Y/N turns stiffly, heading back to the kitchen, but from the corner of her eye, she catches Rafe reaching under the table, slapping his hand against Topper’s with a smirk. They’re all laughing quietly, thoroughly enjoying their little game at her expense. Her blood simmers, but she forces herself to keep moving, keep smiling. 

Just a few more hours. 

Just a few more hours?

The night had already drained her, but the final straw came in the form of a screaming toddler at table five. His mother looked exhausted, his father seemed more interested in his phone than the mashed potatoes his son had just flung onto the floor, and Y/N had been the unlucky one stuck cleaning it up. She crouched down, scraping the mush off the floor while the mother muttered a halfhearted apology. Y/N only nodded, brushing it off, but by the time she was back on her feet, her patience had worn dangerously thin. Now, balancing a tray of drinks, she made her way toward another table when a sharp whistle cut through the air and her head snaps around.

Rafe.

Sitting there, completely at ease, his smirk carved deep into his face as he tapped at the expensive watch on his wrist, she clenched her jaw. God, she hated him. Still, she forced herself to finish up at the other table, dumping their drinks off quickly before she had no choice but to approach him.

"Are you done with your meals?" 

She asked flatly, not bothering to sound sweet anymore. She was tired, her shift was almost over, and she just wanted to go home. She reached out, grabbing their plates, stacking them with ease as she muttered, 

“I’ll get you the bill—”

“—No. We’d like some drinks actually.”

Rafe cut her off smoothly. Her grip tightened around the plates, but she forced her lips into something resembling a smile. “Sure, what can I get you?” She flicked open her notepad, pen poised, waiting.

“A beer.” 

Rafe said easily, his eyes dancing with amusement. Kelce and Topper rattled off their orders- both opting for a whiskey. She jotted it all down, lips pressed into a tight line She returned a few minutes later, balancing the drinks on a tray as she weaved through tables. Her feet ached, her patience had now become nonexistent. Sure enough, the moment she set Kelce’s whiskey down, he scoffed. 

“What, did you brew his beer yourself? Took you long enough.”

Y/N said nothing, pressing her lips together as she continued placing the rest of the drinks down. Topper leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. 

“Are you gonna apologize for our inconvenience?”

Her eye twitched, but she plastered on the fakest, most saccharine smile she could muster. “I’m so sorry for your inconvenience,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “It won’t happen again.” Rafe only hummed, reaching for his beer, but before he could even take a sip, his face twisted in displeasure, eyes focused on the pint glass in front of him.

“What is this?”

She blinked, “Your beer?”

“Yeah, who the fuck poured this?” 

He lifted the glass, examining it like it personally offended him. The foam had settled at the top, maybe a little too much, but it was nothing dramatic. Y/N fought back the urge to roll her eyes- she very clearly isn't the bartender. 

“I don’t pour the drinks—”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he cut her off. 

“Go get me another one.”

Her nails dug into the palm of her hand as she turned on her heel, biting her tongue to stop herself from snapping at him. She took the beer back to the bar, inhaling deeply as she watched the bartender pour a fresh one, and by the time she made it back to the table, she was barely holding it together. She placed the new beer in front of him, her fingers itching to just throw it at him, but she forced herself to keep it together. Rafe lifted it to his lips, took a sip, then frowned.

“This shit is warm. Are you serious?”

 “I just told you, I’m a waitress, I don’t pour your drin—”

“Cut the fucking attitude, alright?”

Her jaw clenched so tight it hurt. She could feel her manager watching from the bar, could see him keeping an eye on the interaction, and she knew if she said anything back, she’d be the one in trouble, because everyone who worked at the club knew that - the customer is always right.

“Get me another,” Rafe said, tilting his head, eyes locked on hers, that same cocky smirk playing on his lips.

 “And don’t make me send you back again.”

She reached for the glass, barely restraining herself from throwing it at his head. Rafe leaned back in his chair, eyes still on her.

 “Or are you too dumb to do that?”

Kelce and Topper sniggered beside him. Y/N forced her lips into a fake smile letting out a small hum at his words, grabbing the beer and spinning on her heel.

She was going to lose her fucking mind.

When she came back, her jaw locked so tightly it ached, she was surprised her teeth hadn't fallen out yet. She didn’t even bother to mask the anger burning in her eyes as she slammed the beer down onto the table, the liquid sloshing over the rim and splashing onto Rafe’s lap. His head snapped up, his jaw clenching, eyes darkening with irritation.

“Oops” 

She said, voice laced with mock innocence. Rafe pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor as he shot up. Before she could step away, his hand snapped around her wrist, yanking her closer.

“What the fuck are you playing at huh Maybank?” 

His grip was firm, fingers digging into her skin just enough to make it ache. She could sense the two other boys gazing at them amused, speaking in hushed murmurs. Y/N yanked at her arm, glaring up at him but his grip around her didn't loosen. 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a fucking dick—”

He scoffed, his breath fanning against her face as he leaned in slightly, grip tightening. She refused to flinch, refused to give him the satisfaction, even though her pulse was hammering harshly in her ears. Then, his voice dropped, lowering into something only she could hear.

“I think you’re forgetting what I know hmm... bunny?”

She froze as the word passed his lips, eyes flickering over his face. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, his thumb pressing against her wrist. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he murmured, “So stop being such a little bitch and—”

“Is everything okay here?”

Her manager’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, and Rafe immediately let go, his expression shifting in an instant as he turned to face them. “Oh yeah, man,” he said, all faux innocence. “Just had a little spill, didn’t we?” Y/N was still stiff, her wrist burning where he’d grabbed her, but she forced herself to clear her throat, nodding quickly. 

“Yeah- um, yes. I was just going to get some tissues.”

Her manager gave her a lingering look, as if trying to assess the situation, but eventually just nodded before walking off. Rafe sat back down, picking up his beer as if nothing had happened. Y/N exhaled sharply before stalking off to grab some napkins. When she returned, she slapped them onto the table, using one to wipe up the spill on the surface.

“Clean it up, Maybank.”

“What do you think I’m doing, Cameron?”

Rafe grinned at her evident distress, leaning back in his chair as he watched her. Then, with a casual flick of his wrist, he snapped his fingers in front of her face a few times and pointed down at his lap, where the beer had splashed onto his trousers.

“I said, clean it up.”

Y/N let out a sharp scoff, eyes narrowing at him in pure disgust. Rafe only smirked, leaning back leisurely in his seat. He lifted his hand, fingers tapping against the side of the cold beer glass, which now had a small ring of condensation pooling around it.

“You want me to call your manager hmm?”

She could feel the heat of Topper and Kelce’s stares, the way they were barely holding back their laughter, waiting to see what she’d do. Her fingers curled around the napkin in her hand, nearly tearing it in frustration. But she contemplated her next move- she realised she didn’t have much of a choice.

Not with the leverage he had over her.

Biting the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted copper, she forced herself to move forward, lowering herself slightly as she brought the napkin to his lap, pressing it against his upper thigh. The fabric was damp beneath her fingertips soaking into the tissue, and she felt the way his leg tensed slightly beneath her touch. Rafe didn’t shift away though- no, he only watched her, his lips curled in satisfaction as she dabbed at the wet patch on his trousers.

She hated him.

Hated the way he was enjoying this. Hated the way her skin prickled with embarrassment, the heat of his gaze locked onto her every movement. Then, just as she started to move her hand up slightly to cover the rest of the spill, his voice dropped into something condescendingly smooth.

“Wrong job, princess.”

Her head snapped up, and for a moment, she just stared at him, her expression twisted with nothing but pure, seething hatred and Rafe just smirked, tilting his head at her like he was daring her to really react.

“Go get me my bill”

Y/N clenched her fists so tightly she swore her nails would break skin. But she didn’t argue. Didn’t snap back. Because she couldn’t afford to. Because if she stepped out of bounds one more time, she didn't want to know what he’d do with the ‘information’ he had. Without another word, she turned on her heel toward the bar to retrieve the check, her hands trembling with the effort of restraining herself. Then she came back with the bill, placing it down on the table without a word. She didn’t wait around for them to check it, didn’t even spare Rafe another glance as she turned and made her way straight back to the bar. Sofia was already there, leaning against the counter, watching her approach. As soon as Y/N let out a long breath and dropped her head into her hands, fingers pressing against her temples, Sofia raised an eyebrow.

“What’s Rafe got against you?” 

She asked, voice light but laced with curiosity. Y/N just exhaled, shaking her head slightly as she mumbled, 

“I don’t know.”

Sofia clicked her tongue, watching Rafe over the girls shoulder, “He’s an privileged Kook living off of his daddy’s money. Don’t let him get to you, Y/N.”

Y/N only hummed in response, too drained to say anything else. Instead, she watched as Rafe got up, tilting his head back as he downed the rest of his beer in one go. Topper and Kelce were already heading toward the door, pushing past a couple of other customers on their way out, but Rafe lingered for just a second longer. 

And then he turned with that look.

The one that sent a slow, crawling chill up her spine. His eyes locked on hers, dark and unreadable, amusement still tugging at the corner of his lips, like he knew something she didn’t. Like he enjoyed getting under her skin. Y/N didn’t waver. Didn’t blink. Just stared back at him, her expression twisted with nothing but pure hatred.

Rafe smirked.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out after his friends. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, rolling her shoulders slightly as she straightened up. A minute passed before she finally made her way back over to their empty table. It was a mess- napkins shifted across the table, now empty glasses with rings of condensation staining the wood. And in the middle of it, the small, folded wallet that held their payment. Y/N reached for it, flipping it open, eyes scanning over the receipt. Her lips parted slightly,

The total: $150.

She glanced at the stack of bills tucked inside- multiple fifties, covering the full price of the meal. And then, nestled between them, a single one-dollar bill. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a pit of frustration already bubbling in her stomach, but when she shifted her gaze lower, she saw the note. Written in the same blue ink as the receipt, scrawled in lazy, careless handwriting:

Drop the attitude, Bunny.

And at the bottom of the final receipt, where the tip amount had been written in: Y/N stared at it for a long moment, jaw clenching, the paper crinkling slightly between her fingers as she tightened her grip.

$1.00.

Fucking asshole.

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[eureka-its-zico]

Residuals Pt. 4

Ongoing Series

Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. You’ve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You can’t miss what you don’t see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.

Pairing: Michael ‘Robby’ Robinavitch x Reader

Genre: Established previous relationship, slight age gap (by about 15 years give or take), a little bit of tension mixed in with a little bit of hate yearning, cause she’s a saucy angsty fic ok

A/N: First, I read an article on burns to try and make this as accurate as possible, (article here by the NIH) but it’s still not terribly accurate. So, please, I tried lol. Secondly, I’m still screaming at the amount of love you guys have shown this series. Truly, I appreciate it more than y’all know. Thirdly, enter in a little extra dash of drama by Gloria (who redeemed herself in ep.12 but we ain’t there yet) and ya girl is just having a rough-ass day. Fourthly, yeah…she’s a thick chapter. Hopefully, it's still good because I’ve edited it as much as I can. As always, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for the support and for being here. Much Love, Jenn

Warnings: Mentions of death, language

Words: 10k +

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Whitaker proved to be an adept student. He followed directions well and answered whatever questions you threw his way about proper wound care at home and possible infection risks around the burned areas. When you’d finished with the first patient, you ensured he knew to return to the emergency room immediately if they experienced any new or persistent discomfort, like pain or tenderness in the area, increased warmth, discoloration, or advanced swelling. 

“If the infection is invasive and takes hold of the wound, what is the main course of treatment, Dr. Whitaker?”

“We would contact surgery.”

“Correct. Why?” 

“The need for surgery would be based on the high concentration of the bacteria levels found present in the wound.”

“We’d check for signs of possible sepsis and a full check-up to narrow down if it's gram-negative or positive bacteria, which tells us further about our treatment plan. What is the chief cause of burn wound infections?”

“Staphylococcus Aureus - MRSA.”

“How would we verify the patient had MRSA or any other type of possible bacterial infection?” 

“By taking a sample from the area for testing -“

“You guys aren’t about to cut me up or anything, are you?”  

The sudden input from the patient caused a nervous tick from Whitaker. It halted his hands from finishing the last few loops around with the gauze. The patients' eyes darted nervously from you to Whitaker and back again. You gave your best reassuring smile while making sure the dressing was secured on his chest and shoulder.

“Well, Kyle, the faster we get you out of here, you take the antibiotics I prescribe you, and make sure you keep your burns dressed and away from exposure to possible germs, then no. We won’t be ‘cutting you up’ today.”

“Okay. Cool. Because that sounds really uncool.”

Dilaudid truly did wonders for conversations. You’d have to make sure the discharge papers were clear on his care and warning signs to look out for. Plus, add extra emphasis on trying to make sure not to share any items in the frat house bathroom. 

In truth, it wasn’t him, but his fellow frat boy neighbor in four that had you worried. So far, he showed no obvious signs of infection, but once the adrenaline of the moment wore off he noticeably seemed to slip into shock at having half his face, eyelashes, and eyebrow singed off. Not enough shock, however, to keep from asking if he’d make a handsome Harvey Dent for Halloween. 

The burns to his neck and chest indicate to you he was closer to the fire pit than his buddy Whitaker currently patched up. You’d ordered blood work, x-rays, and a culture swab on two-face and his friend just to rule out any surprises. 

You did your full assessment, asked questions, and directed Whitaker the best you could. You wanted to be the good mentor like Adamson and Singh had been for you. A good mentor like Robby was too. You would never admit it out loud but a small piece of you wanted Robby to see how capable you were. A silent bid to prove he could trust you with his interns and medical students. Between Robby, Abbot, and the previous attendings you knew you could teach. 

It wasn’t a hidden thing that you’d both meet here during your residency. Yes, it was Adamson’s circus, but Robby thrived under Adamson’s direction and the insanity the Pitt offered. He was funny, charismatic, incredibly smart, and showed a level of empathy that bordered on worrisome at times. A tidal wave of grief encapsulated him and carried him under if he wasn’t careful. Robby was exactly the physician any patient should want taking care of them when they arrived in the ED. 

And hell, you weren’t blind. Anyone with eyes could see that Robby was handsome. Painstakingly, stupidly, egregiously, fucking handsome. It was fucking criminal. 

Robby taught you so much in the time you’d spent here and you knew he probably still could but that would mean being around him. The two of you standing closer than you’d been in years was proving to be a dangerous thing. He’d fallen back into the habit of stealing touches and you’d fallen back into the habit of shamelessly teasing him with things he’d usually make you pay for later trapped between his body and whatever surface in your house.

It was a dangerous game neither of you realized you were playing, and both of you were losing fast. Instead of having your focus one hundred percent on the patients and being back in the ED for the first time in years, your focus repeatedly returned where it shouldn’t. At first, you could lie to yourself and say you were simply scanning the hallways and nursing stations to make sure you didn’t see him. Of course, that’s what you wanted to believe; to coast through this shift without any additional emotional trauma following you home. 

It was fucking impossible.

You could continue to lie to yourself all you wanted, but the truth was blatantly clear. Your eyes didn’t comb over the hallways and desks in hopes of not finding him. You didn’t quickly peer into rooms in anticipation that he wouldn’t be in one. You wanted to see him just as much as you denied that you didn’t. 

The day you left, you made sure to do it while Robby was working because you knew, that if he’d been home and asked you to stay, you would’ve. And if he didn’t fight for you - never uttered a singular word of pleading to keep you from leaving, you weren’t sure you could survive it. 

So now you found yourself hopelessly looking for him in all the places you swore you’d never go again. You may have chosen to leave, but it never meant you stopped loving him. The fact you were still in love with him made seeing the lost look in his eyes sting harder. You watched as he spoke to the parents of the kid who overdosed with no possible hope of waking up again, and you wanted to go to him. It was the shattering look of grief that made you forget how to move. Robby knew what was coming better than anyone else did. 

How many times was Robby the one in charge of giving the heartbreaking news that loved ones weren’t coming home? Shouldering the burden of listening to the breakdown of their world and being the pillar of strength and comfort while families struggled to rearrange? 

You hadn’t realized the black hole of anxiety was leading you down a rabbit hole until the sound of Whitaker calling out, “Dr. Fullerton,” at your side left you practically jumping out of your skin. 

Shit. How long had you been zoned out? Hopefully, you hadn’t said anything weird. Or incriminating.

“Sorry,” he swiftly followed up. “I was trying to ask where we were off to next, but, uh, you seemed a little…preoccupied.”

“Oh, yeah, no sorry. You can go back to the red zone. I’m just going to help McKay up in triage.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, not at all. You’ll have more of a chance to learn with Langdon and Collins.” What you actually meant was to see more if that was what he was into. “Also, maybe check on your last patient I pulled you away from earlier.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You watched him take your advice and, in real time, get ready to dispute it. “Why am I checking back in with Mr. Milton?”

What should you tell him? In the Pitt, it was easy to be thrown from one patient to the next - forgetting their faces and names as the minutes blurred into hours. Easy to forget they were waiting on test results that needed to be read by you and needed a treatment plan discussed and planned by you. Major issues could present as something small, something easily missable until further testing exposed the truth of the situation. If you went just the smallest amount of time without checking the results, without popping your head in for a visual, well, it wasn’t hard to imagine how sometimes those major issues finally presented themselves and everything got much, much worse. 

“Look, Whitaker. As much as the powers constantly stress about getting people in and out quickly like this is a drive-thru, we have an obligation to each patient to give them the best care we can. It means staying on top of orders and checking in regularly. Trust me, Whitaker, things can change quickly down here.”

“Okay, yeah. That makes perfect sense. Thanks, Dr. Fullerton.”

“You bet. See you around, Whitaker.”

He gave you an awkward wave and didn’t move right away. It wasn’t until you turned away from him that you heard him shuffle on his feet. A part of you was curious if you glanced behind you he’d still be standing there, deciding where to go.   

All that mattered to you was that you currently needed a new patient. It didn’t matter what the chief complaint was. Ideally, for the all-seeing eye of admin, quick and easy ones would look better. At this rate, you were positive your Press Ganey score was dipping. You were seeing patients at the speed of an R3; two patients per hour and they were after fast and loose results. But you wanted something with the capability to keep you occupied for hours. Preferably something that would require so much of your attention it would force you out of your head. 

Yeah, that would be good. It was too damn early still to be spiraling into a midlife crisis just because you had to work with your ex. An ex, you realized, who was wearing the damn navy blue hoodie you’d bought him on his last fishing trip to Canonsburg. 

No. No. Nope. You weren’t supposed to be thinking about him or stupid hoodies or the gold chain of his necklace that used to drag over your collarbone. How your fingers curled around the thin chain, using it like a lead, to bring him down on top of you on the couch. Absolutely not - you were at work and he was your ex. He was your ex and you shouldn’t fucking care how you could still tell after all these months he was sleeping like shit. 

You were almost back to Dana’s station, the monitor looming overhead like a beacon to salvation when you noticed Whitaker walking in tandem beside you. You cocked a brow in question that Whitaker rushed to answer. 

“The board is this way, so…”

Right. You knew that. 

“I was trying to talk to you but I think you were in deep thought or something. Again.”

Or something. God. That was twice. Twice your head was everywhere else but where it needed to be, which was at work. You should’ve fought harder when Gloria came to reassign you, but none of this should’ve mattered. 

You were a damn good doctor. You’d trained under the best, learned from the best, and kept progressively learning and didn’t stop. You spent years of your life on this because helping people was your passion. It shouldn’t matter where you were placed if you were down here to help for days, months, or years. 

Yet, in the matter of an hour, your mind waded into memories that were better off left for dead with your eyes searching for someone you shouldn’t. 

You didn’t know how to answer him. “Sorry, I should remember where everything is but find myself stuck daydreaming about the past and looking for signs where I shouldn’t and sexually fantasizing about your attending”, didn’t seem appropriate to tell a med student. So, you ended with a weak, “Sorry about that,” which passed for understanding. It made you feel like an ass, but you didn’t trust yourself to speak. 

You came to a stop just a few feet from Dana’s desk. Her back turned to you as she went through folders preparing patient's charts for transfer upstairs. Her eyes shifted up at the board and over to a newer resident you hadn’t met yet. 

Her gaze was fixed on the monitor; eyes scanning rapidly down the chart as if there was a code that needed cracking. You knew that look. It was a shared one you’d no doubt mirrored only an hour ago. 

“What do you need, Fullerton?”

Your head swiveled back to Dana and found her now facing you, her glasses removed, and waiting for your answer. 

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Are you kidding?” The question fell out of her in a chuckle. “You’re the only one I know who goes around taping on every damn surface when they’re thinking. You act like my five-year-old grandson, just less noisy. Barely.”

“That’s offensive,” you pointed out. 

“For who? You or my grandson.”

You felt the first crack in your defenses tug at the corners of your mouth. If you weren’t careful, Dana’s whip-smart comments were going to make you fold back into a routine you hadn’t been a part of in a while. It wasn’t just you who was slipping at this point, and you clocked the moment Dana began to realize it too. 

She was supposed to be upset with you - grumpy, mean remarks only. You were supposed to take them and dish them back so you could comfortably stay in your bubbles of denial and anger. The denial of what, exactly, was achingly easy to see. 

You both missed each other. More than either of you were willing to admit. 

Your reply sat cocked and loaded on your tongue when you remembered what transpired half an hour before. As much as you missed one another, you had to be careful with what you shared around her. It was obvious, whatever the ‘It’ may be, Robby would magically seem to find out. 

“Any quick ones up here? It’s only 8:30, and Robby’s already on my case for being too slow. I can usually at least make it to lunch before he starts hounding me.” 

Your attention swiveled back towards the resident. Her gaze fixed on the board before glancing between Dana and you. Hopefully, her question wasn’t meant for you to answer. You weren’t very good at picking off the board either. 

“Cut him a little slack today, ok? It’s the anniversary of Dr. Adamson’s death.”

Of course, Dana would cover for him. Intercept all incoming rapports of Robby being prickly and sometimes downright mean to bury them under the rug of understanding. 

Yes, it was the anniversary of Adamson’s death. It always would be. Grief wasn’t easy. It was messy and unrelenting in the moments it chose for sights, smells, and touch to materialize memories that recalled moments you wouldn’t get the chance to share with them again. A constant reminder of all that we lost. Time didn’t seal up that cavern their loss created; it just became more manageable over time. 

Robby never coped. Never allowed himself to grieve, heal, and thrive in the good memories he did have. The doubts and guilt haunted him every day in every step, every decision, he made. He housed it inside him like a ghoul in a cemetery feasting on the remains of who he was before Adamson’s death - before the pandemic. 

“That’s sad. But it’s still no reason to take it out on me. I’m just saying.”

You liked her. She got it. You wanted to properly introduce yourself. By the look on Dana’s face, you need to do it quickly before she breaks out into a lecture. Luck wasn’t on your side because Whitaker beat you to the punch. 

You didn’t want to eavesdrop on their conversation but you also didn’t want to go back to having a conversation with Dana, either. It left you the only option of staring back up at the beloved board. You’d just decided on 7 North when Dr. Collins walked by, her hands digging in the glovebox on the wall to retrieve a pair. Her eyes were on Whitaker and yours were on her. 

It wasn’t a secret that Robby and Heather had dated. Well, maybe to those in the Pitt, and not including Perlah or Princess because they suspiciously seemed to be psychic. Or just really loved to gossip. No, you’d learned about them when a friend spotted Robby and Heather out on a date. You’d only assumed it was a date because she repeatedly kept using the word cozy. 

And why should you have cared? It’d been almost a year since you’d left. You chose to leave and that meant making him free to date and find new love or whatever. You didn’t have a right to lay claim to him just because he’d been yours. And Heather? She was gorgeous. She was fucking brilliant, with a beautiful smile, and it suddenly made you feel uncharacteristically subconscious. 

Whether it’d been a date or they just seemed cozy (it was a damn date) you shouldn’t have felt jealous. You were fine. It was perfectly fine and healthy for people to seek out relationships and companionship. It was normal and you were fine. You weren’t any saint either. You’d dated someone briefly and, if you were honest with yourself, you could’ve stayed in that relationship. It was nice and easy. Simple. But you didn’t love him and you weren’t sure if you ever could. 

The problem of loving Robby - still being in love with Robby - was that he stood witness to your most intimate memories of love. There were stories woven into your bones that bore witness to the man he was and how he loved you. They were told in joy and tragedy, laughter and sadness. When Nathan kissed you, the earth kept spinning. He didn’t taste of bourbon or smell of leather and sandalwood. He didn’t spend time in the backyard sanding down tables or staining decks. He didn’t wear glasses that somehow slid minute by minute inch down his nose until he subconsciously tilted his head back to see.

In the end, you left because of one glaring fact: Nathan would never be - could never be - Robby.  

Dr. Collins told Whitaker to come with her for a teaching experience - an unconscious unhoused man was being brought in. Whitaker quickly moved to follow her lead in grabbing a pair of gloves just in time for the paramedics to wheel in the gurney. Said man was very much unconscious and appeared very much unhoused. 

Your time playing the gawking bystander had come to an end and you needed to get to 7 North. You pushed away from the counter when you were stopped by the resident from earlier barreling into your line of sight. 

“Dr. Fullerton? I’m Dr. Samira Mohan - R3. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Dr. Mohan stuck out her hand and you accepted it warmly. Besides the obvious annoyance from Robby hounding her existence, it seemed Dr. Mohan was friendly. She held a kind air about her that reminded you of Robby - only now that kindness held an edge of grumpiness because his empathy was playing an overwhelming game. By the sleepless bags under his eyes, you could tell he was losing. 

You wanted to point the probability of this out to her, maybe offer her a consultation for Robby’s apparent hard-ass demeanor, but quickly shoved it off. 

“It’s nice to meet you, as well, Dr. Mohan.”

“Would it be okay if I could confer with you later?” Dr. Mohan’s eyes shifted to where Dana stood only inches away. “In private?”

You weren’t sure if you should be flattered or wanting to run for the hills. Dana’s eyes practically bore into the back of your head, waiting to hear your answer. You knew no matter what you chose to say this was getting back to Robby. 

Fuck it. 

“Of course, Dr. Mohan. I’ll come and find you after my next patient.”

“Thank you. I look forward to speaking with you.” 

She cut a cautious glance over her shoulder and turned on her heel towards the south hallway. It must have been nice to make an easy exit. It was definitely something you were down to try but Dana stood closer to the counter, her glasses down the bridge of her nose, and accused you with a look of being a troublemaker. Your only defense was a shrug. 

“What?”

“What the hell was that about?”

Your brows converged together as you shrugged again. 

“How am I supposed to know, Dana? I haven’t even talked to her yet.” 

“Talked to who about what?”

Fucking kill me. 

What was with today? Were you unknowingly walking around with a ‘Kick Me,’ sign written by life? You’d gone over two years without ever running into Robby and within an hour in a half, you couldn’t seem to avoid him. 

And why was he standing so fucking close again? 

You didn’t need to glance over to your left to know he was close. The heat of his body, the nudge of his elbow against your arm informed you at breakneck speed you were close. Too fucking close, Michael. 

“Mohan seems to want to speak with Fullerton. In private.”

“You couldn’t just wait for me to answer, Dana?”

The words rose up your throat like bile, acidic with its irritation. You couldn’t help it. You didn’t need this shit. You didn’t know what Dr. Mohan wanted but the cryptic way she asked wasn’t doing you any favors. It was at this moment you finally chose to look in Robby’s direction. He was leaning into his elbow that rested on the counter. Even with his body slightly slouched the height difference was substantial causing you to crane to look up at him. 

The problem with this? He was close enough that your temporal lobe was overloaded with thousands of memories of his thumb gliding across your lips. Large hands taking hold of your neck and tilting you back at just the right angle for his lips to claim yours. 

When you were no longer held hostage to the sensory manipulation your brain concocted, you prayed to whoever was listening that you didn’t look as lovestruck as you felt. By the dark glint in Robby’s eyes, you were doing a piss poor job at being Switzerland. 

“What? So you can conveniently disappear by the end of the shift without any context or explanation? No, thanks. Been there. Done that. Not a fan of the outcome.”

“This bipolar verbal assault is getting real tiring, Dana,” you huffed. 

“Alright. Alright, enough!” Robby cut in. “I expect this behavior from patients, not my staff. Now, Dr. Fullerton, what did Dr. Mohan want to discuss with you?”

“Jesus Christ,” you sighed, “I have no fucking clue, okay? She just asked if she could speak in private and seeing as how she did ask for it to be private, I don’t see why you need to know.” 

“Ugh,” a dry huff of what might have passed for a laugh - a cough maybe? - exited his lips. His brow was drawn tight while he looked at you. No doubt wondering where you’d gained the audacity. “Because this is my emergency department. I’m in charge of the entire thing and I think I need to be aware of what is going on with my staff.” 

“Well, maybe if you stopped acting like an ass to said staff they wouldn’t be seeking outside counsel.”

A mirthless laugh exploded from between his lips. The sound carried part of the disbelief his eyes showed while he took you in. He was no longer leaning against the counter but had his arms crossed against his chest. You weren’t sure if he was looking at you like he wanted to throttle you or found you unbelievable. Neither option would make you a winner if you guessed right.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” he grumbled under his breath. “Are you a fucking counselor all of a sudden?”

“And what if I was? I would ask if you’d require my services, but we both know you’re allergic to seeking help.” 

You should’ve stopped while you were ahead. You were bringing up personal shit - inviting a possible fucking mess to happen - and yet you couldn’t help yourself. You kept poking the proverbial bear and damn it, you weren’t exactly sure you felt bad about doing it. Were you so desperate for a reaction from him - after all this time? What the hell was it going to prove? 

You watched the storm of emotions roll in. The deep set of his forehead and the dark clouds that zapped all residual warmth from his eyes. You weren’t sure if Robby was even aware he’d taken a step towards you, jaw flexing, and body slowly seeping into whatever free space you had left. 

Whatever words he would’ve said died in the aftermath of hearing shouts a few rooms down. It jarred you both out of your staring contest and sent him into action. One minute he was standing in front of you, the next, he was running to see what the commotion was. 

The second Robby was removed from your space, you took a deep breath in. Why did it feel like you were in a constant state of fight or flight? Your answer came in a set of blue eyes who homed in on you the moment Robby was gone. 

“When’s your next smoke break?” 

“Who says I still smoke?” 

“Dana, be serious. The day you quit smoking is the day hell freezes over. So - when?”

She regarded you for a moment. The scale in her mind no doubt weighed if this was going to be worth her time or possibly ruining her nicotine break. 

“I usually take it around 9:30. Why? You suddenly have the urge to open up?”

“Do you want to talk or not?.”

She could bitch, make jokes, and moan and groan all she wanted. You knew offering up a chance to talk would be all Dana would need to agree. Was it something you honestly wanted to do? Not really. Were you willing to do it so that at least you had one less person hounding you the rest of your shift? 

Abso-fucking-lutely.

“Ah, what the hell. I’ll see you on break kid.” 

A sigh of relief eased through you and you prayed Dana hadn’t noticed. You didn’t think she’d agree but, now that she had, you had a tiny ounce of hope this day wasn’t going to be so much of a shit show. 

“What was all that screaming about?”

You knew the question wasn’t directed at you. Robby must have made his return and the soft laughter wasn’t what you expected to hear. 

“We seem to have involuntarily just admitted rats,” he replied. 

“You’re kidding?” Dana scoffed. 

“If only I was. Whitaker was saying it was about three or four of them.” 

“And on that note,” you drummed your hands on the counter, “I am going to 7 North.” 

It wasn’t until you went to take a step forward you noticed the weight on your left foot. A weight that felt like something was sitting directly on it. You looked down just in time to watch a rat - a damn rat - scurry off your foot to run around the edge of the nursing station. 

What you did next wasn’t your proudest moment. You even used to pride yourself on being rational when it came to rodents. The shout that clawed its way from the depths of your stomach proved you wrong at lightning speed. 

You felt your body jump backward and collide with Robby. His hands were on your hips to steady you. You were bouncing back and forth on your heels, eyes scanning the area to make sure no further surprises snuck up on you. Your arms were bunched up at your sides and you were trying to talk yourself down from sweeping the remaining area with your leg. Just for good measure.

It was the feeling of his hands on your waist, the soft sound of his chuckle touching your hair that brought you careening back down to earth. Robby was close. Not like last time when your arms touched - closer than when he followed behind you into Allan's room. Even through your scrubs, you could feel the scorching heat of his palms spreading like wildfire through the fabric that sent your heart racing. 

He should’ve let go by now. The threat of you possibly knocking him over or you both tripping and falling was over. He could let go. He could just let go, but Robby’s hands were holding you firmly in place with neither of you willing to move. You refused to look behind you - afraid of what he might see if you did.

You were afraid of what you might see if you dared to look too. 

Slowly, you took a step forward, disengaging his hands from you. The sensation of loss was instant and you almost stepped back into him. Your body and mind were at war between desire and being rational. Fuck being rational. There was nothing rational about the way your heart brutalized your ribs. The need to ask stupid fucking questions that no longer mattered. The consuming way your body craved for him to wrap his large hand around your throat, whispering words of filth into your ear. 

You had to get away before you made a mistake. 

“Sorry about that. I’m going to just, ugh, go do my rounds now.”

You didn’t turn around while you softly spoke. You may have been delusional at times, but you weren’t crazy. If you looked back and Robby’s eyes gave away any hint of emotion - anything that sparked that dying ember of hope inside you - you would crumble. 

You should’ve fought harder to stay upstairs in family medicine or threatened Gloria with firing you. You were safer there. Now, you were rushing off to remember what patient room you were going to with Robby’s cologne clinging to your skin. 

You were a pain in the ass. But you were his pain in the ass. 

Used to be, his mind reminded him. 

Could still be, came his stupid heart's reply. 

Robby used to love it when you challenged him; called him out on his bullshit. You weren’t afraid to stand in the current of his disapproval or to openly have a debate, especially when you could see he was missing something. You challenged each other to be open-minded to change, because it happened so fast, and to accept that being wrong wasn’t failure but a moment to grow and learn. 

When you both stopped being open with one another, and being honest with yourselves, was when the challenging energy took a turn. Everything felt like a confrontation. Even in moments when the constructive criticism came from colleagues - from you - it felt like an attack he had to defend against. 

Robby saw it in you too. The small hints of walls slowly being built to keep the inquiries at bay. When your responses become short and brief or not at all. 

Now, before nine o’clock, you were in the Pitt not only wreaking havoc on his already fragile mental state but accusing him of…what? When you’d thrown the counselor's comment at him, Robby wanted to rage. How many times was it the main part of your arguments near the end of your relationship that he needed to talk to somebody? Anybody. How many times did he deny it? 

You’d thrown it in from the sidelines and it jarred him so much, Robby felt disoriented. For the briefest moment, Robby forgot that you were no longer together. His mind reflexively thought you were arguing about the same old tired thing. He’d taken a step toward you and wanted to ask, “And what about you?” 

You who wasn’t as honest and open with yourself just like him. There were things left unsaid between the two of you - the things that eventually buried the hatchet too far in to safely remove. 

What about all the times he’d found you in the bathroom sitting against the tub crying in the middle of the night? Your panic attacks and OCD tendencies that started after…

Every time Robby reached out to be there for you, your response was always the same. 

“It’s nothing, Michael.”  “I’m fine.”  “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Sure, Robby wasn’t open and was guarded in his own right but neither were you. Where he used to read the transcript of your emotions so delicately on your face, you’d closed yourself off to him and he no longer knew how to get in. 

An angry shout from down the South hallway thankfully tore his attention back to reality. His feet were already moving him robotically forward where he could see Olson entering Central 15. 

“Whoa, whoa what is going on?”

Robby directed the question specifically to one of his many team members in the room. Thankfully, Kiara started to explain or, more appropriately attempted to explain but he couldn’t fucking think through all the damn shouting. 

“Ok, ok, okay ENOUGH!” Robby couldn’t believe he was already raising his voice. Yelling at grown-ass adults like they were children. “This is a hospital. This isn’t ‘ The Jerry Springer Show’.” Although it was really, really starting to fucking feel like it with the morning he was having. “Ma’am, nobody’s trying to take your child. So why don’t you stay here with him while your husband talks to our social worker outside and straightens all this out?”

“Well, I don’t want him speaking for me and my son.”

It was clear by the wavering of her voice, that this was a tough spot for the mom to be in. Robby could sympathize but what he couldn’t sympathize with was starting a miniature war zone in one of his rooms. 

“Well, it is either you or him. Your son is not leaving, but you can be escorted out and even arrested if you refuse to cooperate. Nobody wants that. So you tell us. What do you want to do?”

Robby knew the answer before she replied. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that this mother didn’t fiercely love her son. Whatever situation the husband did to get them in this position was unfortunate, but the only option they had now was to press forward. 

“I’m staying with my son.”

“Ok, great. You do that. Are we all on the same page here?”

The last question he sent out was rhetorical. A feeler to see if anyone else was confused about what was about to happen and if further clarification was needed. God, Robby sincerely hoped it’d all been made crystal clear what the only two real options were; the only choice being to cooperate. 

“You okay?”

Robby could see Langdon was shaken up. It could be a lot dealing with a combative patient - harder when it was a parent just trying to make the right choices for their child. You were always the best at coming in and soothing cases like this one. Somehow able to give relief and comfort while giving the most gut-wrenching news of a parent's life while calmly explaining the next steps. You were able to keep people from feeling lost in the bad news and prepare them for the onslaught of change. 

Robby waited until Langdon confirmed he and Dr. King were good before he walked out of the room. Regarding parents with kids, Robby almost forgot Teresa asked to speak with him about David. 

Central 12 was just a few steps away from Langdon’s patient. It was close to being comfortable but too close to give Robby time to think. He felt out of his element here because he was running out of options. He wanted to help Teresa, because, while she did this to help her son, she knowingly put her own life at risk to get him the help he needed. 

But isn’t that what parents did?  

At times, they blindly waded into the fire if it meant that their child would be safe. 

All Robby could do was watch and listen while he told her about how he left. While he followed up her questions with his own and did his best to try and ward off the sick feeling burying itself inside his gut. 

“Do you think David would hurt anyone?”

Even allowing the question to come out of his mouth made a rush of nausea swell back behind his tongue. He didn’t want to ask it. Nobody wants to ask any parent if they think their child - a fucking child - could be capable of harming another human being. 

Robby carried his thoughts on the reasons why young men are more prone to violence these days. With idiotic podcast hosts spewing their hatred for women who were goal-oriented and not focused on babying them like their mothers. Boys who were told to bottle up their emotions: “Don’t share your feelings. Don’t get caught crying,” unless you want to be told that you were weak. There was so much bullshit in the world for kids to have to contend with these days that Robby didn’t find it surprising a lot of them were overloaded - overwhelmed by a constant flurry from the world to be someone different than who they are. 

Robby had plenty of talks with Jake about these things. He found it easy to lean into him with the both of them connecting during shared trips and quiet nights at the house. Robby made sure his stepson knew that Robby would always be a safe place for him to land. When the world got too crazy and if he couldn’t tell his mom Janey, Robby would be there. 

Because that’s what parents do - willingly walk through fire if it meant their kid would be okay.

“The nasal swab came back negative for COVID, RSV, and Flu - which is a good thing.” 

“Then what’s wrong? What about her eyes?”

The her in question was a three-year-old named Jasmine who was vocally letting you both know that she was not in a good mood, which was very fair. Nobody liked being sick. The only issue with her actively voicing her bad mood was that any high octave screams were soon followed up by a violent cough. 

The moment you stepped inside the room you’d been worried about RSV, especially because of her age. Lungs sounded clear with slight wheezing indicated in the upper left lobe. Thankfully, all major possible viruses came back negative. The unfortunate thing was that this specific viral infection just meant mom was going to have to ride it out.

“It’s still a viral infection. The conjunctivitis, since it started coming from both eyes this morning, it’s from the infection and sinus blockage. The whites of her eyes aren’t red in any way. The best thing to do is apply a compress every few hours on the eyes to help with drainage, saline drops, or spray on the nose to help clear up the congestion and suction as often as you can. Over-the-counter cough medicine is fine unless you need a prescription?”

“No, no, it’s okay. We have some at home. So, she’s okay?”

“Yes, perfectly fine. I just recommend having her sleep elevated to help with drainage and if you have a humidifier, use it. Follow up with her pediatrician in two to three days or come back to the ER if any new or persistent symptoms occur.”

“Thank you so much, doctor.”

“You’re so welcome. Make sure to wait for a nurse before leaving. I hope you feel better, Jasmine.”

 You gave them both a wave before exiting out of the quiet of the room and back into the noise. The nurse assigned to the room came over and held out a tablet and pen for you to take. Quickly, you scribbled a signature down, because doctors were notoriously known for sketchy penmanship, and began to walk towards a nursing station. 

Technically, you did have a second option you could take before throwing yourself into the next patient room. Dr. Mohan asked to speak with you. She didn’t necessarily give a time or a preference. It was more focused on secrecy, which you found a little odd. This was Pittsburgh Medical Trauma Center - it was a rare thing to have a private conversation here. You were curious to find out what it was Mohan wanted, a bigger part of you wasn’t ready for the headache of Robby undoubtedly finding out later. The worst option: is if you were the one who had to tell him to be the advocate for his resident.

The scent of his cologne still held tight to the fabric of your scrubs. Slowly, it was beginning to fade but if you leaned in close enough to your right shoulder you could almost get a hint of -

“Dr. Fullerton.”

You were a millisecond away from calling out, “I wasn’t doing anything!”. Was it too early in the shift to consider a name change?

Glancing over your shoulder, you find Gloria making her way towards you. Each step in your direction sent your fight or flight raging back into gear because fuck no. Between Gloria and Robby, the two of them were about to have you so damn stressed out there was a high chance for premature balding to occur. 

“Oh no. I’ve had enough surprises from you today.”

“I just wanted to have a chat - “

“And definitely enough of those,” you shot back. 

You weren’t exactly sure why you kept moving. If previous experiences told you anything, it was that she would follow you until you stopped on your own or she got you into a corner. At least stopping to face her was a choice compared to being cornered with no way out. 

Resigning to your fate, you took in a big meditative breath through your nose and turned around. 

“What can I help you with, Gloria?”

Your voice was so monotone you sounded like a robot. 

“I’m glad you’ve decided to stop running and actually talk to me like an adult.”

“I’m sorry, Gloria. You brought me down here to assist in decreasing triage wait times and that is what I am doing. Stopping to have a chat with you will reflect poorly on my scores.”

“Cute,” She bit back. The smile on her face was too harsh to be genuine. “Well, it’s funny you mention scores. I’ve been keeping an eye on the numbers and the system is showing barely any signs of process or improvement. Can you explain why that is?”

The simplest answer you could’ve given her came with one name, one word, and one human being. Robby. Robby was your fucking problem; the bane of your existence. 

Gloria shoved you down here not knowing all the variables that could hinder productivity. There were moments of clarity where your brilliance shined through and in a matter of seconds it evaporated again. Realistically, it was your fault. Your inability to control your stupid fucking emotions - you didn’t need to react every time you saw him. 

How could you not react when Robby did exactly the same? 

You weren’t stupid. You’d spent years, months, days, and hours with him. Every minute is accounted for in conversations and touch. It wasn’t insanity (although the jury was still out on that one) that made you believe - to fucking notice - Robby was affected too. 

But no way in hell were you divulging any of your innermost thought demons to Gloria. 

“Look around, Gloria,” you said, arms opening up to motion around the Central rooms. “There are no beds available. You ask for solid care, for good patient satisfaction scores and that requires multiple factors. To be a good doctor you have to listen to the patient's chief complaint that they’ve been waiting almost eight hours to tell you.”

“I am well aware of the current wait times in triage, Dr. Fullerton.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. Problem solved then because once we assess them and decide they need monitoring and tests to ascertain the issue, it’s only another three to six-hour wait. Maybe longer if it’s life-threatening. Not to mention if any trauma patients come rolling through the red zone adding another twenty-five to fifty minutes on their time.”

“I don’t see what any of this has to do with not having any beds. Not every situation in triage necessarily requires a bed to be seen.”

“Gloria, your precious Press Ganey scores are going to stay low if a patient doesn’t get back to a room. You can make beds available by sending people upstairs or how about removing the deceased guy in nineteen who’s been posted here since before I arrived?” 

“Robby is in charge of contacting the coroner's office about picking up the deceased.”

“And yet, the body is still here,” you pondered. “I know Robby, Gloria. He wouldn’t knowingly leave someone’s loved one here if it didn’t mean the coroner is backed up, which means our morgue must house him until then. And why are you complaining to me like I'm attending here? Robby is the attending - “

“I’m well aware of that - “

“You keep saying you’re well aware, Gloria but the fact is it feels like you’re not. It’s easy to come down here making demands but the reality is without the proper staffing and moving boarders out of the emergency department to free up space the numbers will never fucking change. Sending one doctor down here isn’t going to change shit.”

“Are you just about done, Dr. Fullerton?” She did a dramatic pause to allow you time to cut in. “The board and its administration are well aware of the pressures that staff face down here in the emergency department - that all hospitals are currently facing shortages. The fact of the matter is studies show close to seventy-five percent of ER visits are non-life threatening, which means more than half of those patients could be fairly seen in triage without needing a room.”

You could feel your mouth opening; primed for a response that Gloria was not going to let you detonate. Her hand waved to warn you not to cut her off. 

“I don't want to hear any more about boarding or staffing. I want to see the results, Dr. Fullerton. It’s already bad enough that there are rats inside.”

“To be fair, they piggybacked on an unconscious unhoused man, so,” you shrugged. If looks could kill, you’d have dropped dead right then and there. “Not helpful?”

“No. Not helpful,” she confirmed. “I do, however, have a proposition for you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth. The earlier annoyance at seeing Gloria twice in less than two hours of your shift changed course. Dread ice cold and paralyzing coiled in the pit of your stomach. You didn’t like where this was going. 

“Is there a pass option?”

“This is an offer from myself and the administration. So, no, there isn’t a ‘pass option.’ How would you like to be considered for an attending position?”

“No.” 

The word barreled out of you without thinking. You didn’t need to think about this proposition Gloria, the administration, or whoever was trying to dangle in front of you. It was any doctor's dream to become an attending at a facility - it made you the doctor. 

You didn’t want it like this. 

“You didn’t even hear the terms.”

“I don’t need to hear them to know that you’re trying to be sneaky.”

“Robby is failing to meet standards -“

“Robby is a fucking good physician.” You fumed. “He’s one of the best physicians in trauma medicine you have here outside of Abbot.”

“No one is disputing that, Dr. Fullerton. The board is open to having you both down here during the morning shift, maybe even making a swing shift for you to help between shifts.”

You raked your hands over your face scrubbing hard to try and cut off a mirthless laugh that came out in patches between your fingers. 

“No - you want me to be a Judas. It’ll be a swing shift until you can get whatever data you need to confirm whatever fucked up plan you’re making.”

“Dr. Fullerton -“

“No!” You didn’t mean to shout the word at her. Or maybe you had. Whatever it was, it surprised you both. You should be quieter - don’t draw attention but your heart was thrashing wildly. Your hand swiped through the air to cut her off before she could attempt to continue. You didn’t want to fucking hear it. “Robby is a damn fine physician and to try and - I don’t fucking know, get rid of him because he doesn’t kiss the boards or your ass is fucking stupid. I don’t know half of what Robby or Abbot knows. I’m not them and it would be beyond idiotic to lose him.”

“Your opinion will be taken into consideration and I’ll dismiss your…outburst, for now, because of the current situation. But make no mistake, Dr. Fullerton this will move forward with, or without, you.”

You wondered if any natural disasters were named Gloria. It seemed possible since she came and created an instant upheaval of your day, completely devastating it in a matter of minutes and once she was done simply went about her day like nothing happened.  

She left you to deal with the aftermath. The rushing thoughts with a million questions - thousands of things you should’ve said to defend Robby. There were dozens of ways you could prove her wrong about him - that he fucking cared about his patients and was such a damn good doctor, phenomenal at times, that to equate all that he was and all that he did down to a simple metric of numbers was fucking ridiculous. 

All the sound in the room began to drown out around you. Somewhere in the background of the hum you heard a shout for help. It could be Code Blue. It could be anything. You tried to get your body to react, but the hurricane of anxiety was sweeping in fast and you were running out of air. 

You needed to sit. You had to act normal because the last thing you needed was Princess or Dana or fucking anybody else coming over to speak with you. Your hands used the counter like a rope to pull you along to the nearest computer. You quickly sat down and swiped your credentials to enter the computer, quickly clicking on anything just to appear busy. 

“How are you holding up today?”

The last person you expected to see at that very moment was Heather Collins. What did you expect? This was an emergency room and doctors worked inside of it. She offered up a close-lipped smile that matched the kindness in her eyes. She was genuinely wanting to know how you were doing and for the first time, you hated the question because you couldn’t answer it. 

Not truthfully, anyway. Who was ever truthful in answering that specific question?

So, you painted on a grin that more than likely resembled a grimace and prayed you didn’t look as tired as you felt. 

“It’s been…an adjustment.”

“What’s taking adjusting?”

Good god, this man was fucking everywhere. 

Robby came into view as he moved across the station to get to the opposite computer. The question was thrown out carelessly; he didn’t expect a response. He was pulling out his glasses and sliding them over his nose, his full focus on the screen. Test results thankfully took priority over your response. 

You were quickly forgotten by Collin’s who walked over to where Robby read the test results. She waited until he removed his glasses and stood to his full height. 

“Please don’t tell me you are going to intubate that poor old man?”

“It’s what the family wants.”

“So what? They want to torture him?”

“I explained all that.” 

It was painfully obvious this was a case you knew nothing about. By the sound of it, you were willing to bet five dollars that it was one of the elderly patients from a home who came in a little after 7:30 that morning. It meant it wasn’t your case. You didn’t need to know the information and you could continue counting down backward from ten while you reminded yourself that no, you weren’t Judas and -

“Dr. Fullerton, if a family came in -“

Fucking hell, you needed to stop zoning out. You brought your attention back to the two of them, wondering what you missed.

“You don’t need to ask her,” Robby interjected.

Collins continued like he’d never spoken. 

“And they had durable power over an elderly family member who had a pre-existing DNR. His family wants to intubate. It’s not what he wants. Whose choice do you honor?”

“What are you doing?” 

A singular brow of hers arched in defiance. 

“Asking for a second opinion.”

“I didn’t ask for one.”

They continued to bicker about the decision Robby made to not fight for a dying man’s wishes. You would’ve told Collins to let it go because once Robby’s mind was made up, it was like talking to a wall. Maybe she already knew that. 

God, what fucking twilight zone episode were you stuck in? You actively wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Your eyes darted to the time on the bottom of the screen and you had to fight to keep your forehead from landing with a thud on the keyboard. It was only 9 o’clock. There were ten more hours of this day and you needed it to be over. 

Robby released a sigh that reflected how exhausted you felt. It wasn’t a physical exhaustion but one of the soul; a weariness that vines grew thorns and were beginning to tear you slowly open. You could feel your legs wanting to shift out of the chair and go to him. The urge was so strong your hands scrunched into fists to keep from moving - to quell the urge because he wasn’t yours anymore and you weren’t his. 

“Shit.”

“What?”

Robby’s best magic trick? Deflecting. Whenever he wanted the current conversation to end, and didn't like where it was heading, he diverted it completely into something else. Anything else that kept him from having to continue down a conversation he wanted no part of. You knew that trick all too well. 

“I got to go tell those parents their 18-year-old son is brain-dead.” 

“You want me to go with you?”

It should’ve been you offering to go with him. A comfort to the harbinger of bad news because it was never easy to give it. Never easy to stand in the storm of grief and simply be a bystander while their world ends in a matter of words. 

What did it matter who went with him? Who offered? At the end of the day, a family was forever going to be encapsulated by a loss too many people unfortunately knew. 

Vaguely, you caught the end of their argument. Robby wanted to perform an apnea test and a cerebral perfusion study. Dr. Collins didn’t agree. It offered the family false hope but Robby was right - maybe it did offer a false sense of hope, but with each test completed and results read off it was a graceful way to ease a family into acceptance. It gave them the time to process and grieve and come to the very heavy realization their son wouldn’t be going home with them. 

“They need time to process before they can accept what’s happening.”

“You ever consider taking that advice? Physician, heal thyself.”

Dear floor, please fucking open up wide so you can just swan dive right on in. Thanks a bunch. 

Heather knew. She fucking knew about the wall of grief - of acceptance - Robby himself was unable to accept. The King of dishing out advice left and right but unyielding in taking it. Suddenly, all the cool reserve of not caring about them dating evaporated in a crushing wave of heartbreak you shouldn’t have felt in the first place. 

Did he tell her about you? Did he share with her about…about what happened? Was he able to open up to her in ways he stopped doing with you? Their relationship was gone, but the respect and care were still there. 

The irritation came off him in waves. You should’ve told her Robby’s least favorite thing is being told to take his own advice. Or to heal for that matter. Oh, and to also maybe seek therapy. All three of those would turn his mood sour and aggravate him to peak levels at hyper speed. 

He shoved his hands down into his hoodie. His head swiveling between Collins and probably anywhere else in the ED. 

“Don’t you have patients?” 

There it was. The dismissal. The, in not so many words, “I’m done talking to you about this and everything else,” so he could make a quick exit. The magician's last trick before his temper was lost. 

Don’t look up. Do not look up. Don’t fucking do it. 

You didn’t need to look up. There wasn’t any reason to do so. You weren’t on their radar the last half of their conversation. You were just a bystander to a miniature car crash. The issue with crashes? Everyone who drove by couldn’t stop themselves from looking. 

The itch between your shoulder blades was your first warning sign. The weight of his gaze was bearing down on you. You didn’t have to react to it but it was a reflex to look up for him. To search for him in every crowded room and find yourself wishing he was there when he wasn’t. 

Your eyes found he was still looking at you. An in-house debate flashed across his features. If it was whether or not to come to you, you hope he chose not to. You just need a few moments of space. It was too much. You’d run from him and now he was just here all the time and -

“Why are you looking at puppies? You getting a dog?”

“What?”

For the first time since you’d opened the computer, you realized whoever was on it last left it open to an ad for a puppy. 

“Oh, no. This wasn’t me. Hey, earlier did someone shout a Code Blue?” 

You could also perform your own magical change of subjects. Robby took a moment to answer before giving a curt nod. 

“Whittaker’s patient that’d been placed in the hall. If you heard it, why didn’t you go assist? All hands on deck for a code, you know that.”

God, was he chastising you right now? A flood of irritation rippled over your skin. You wanted to snap at him. You weren’t a med student. But he was frustratingly right - you’d heard it and instead of running you’d kept yourself here. 

And Whitaker. It was his first patient of the day. He’d been so excited that he’d done good. He’d gotten praise from Dr. Robby about his work up and Whitaker wouldn’t shut up about it. It meant something to him. 

“I’ll go see if they need someone to switch.”

You went to get up but Robby was too close. If you got up from the chair you would bump straight into his chest. 

“You okay?”

The sudden care behind the question jarred you. How did he expect you to answer? There was no way you could be honest with him - not at that second. He was supposed to go break the worst news a parent could ever receive and he was worried about you. He should be worried for himself. You could warn him about Gloria but what good would it do if he thought you might possibly be in on it with her? Your sudden reappearance, while inconvenient, hadn’t raised suspicion like an ulterior motive waited in the wings just yet. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. You?”

“Never better.”

His smile held every worn line of fatigue that signaled his lack of sleep. His attempt at strength in a moment he refused to seek outside help. You found the same words Dr. Collins asked moments before crawling their way up your throat before you swallowed them back down. He wouldn’t change his mind and agree just because it was you. 

You wanted to be there because whether he voiced it or not, this kid whose family was seconds away from being told was gone wasn’t that much older than Jake. A single accident of taking non-prescribed Xanax ended his life. Jake was a good kid. You wanted to reach out and take his hand and tell him Jake would never - Jake was different. 

Jake was still a kid. 

Robby didn’t wait for you to reply before he headed towards the room. You kept telling yourself to get up and move. Go find Whitaker and the team performing cpr on his patient and do your part. Between everything that’s happened this morning: being forced down with Robby, seeing Robby, Dr. Mohan requesting to speak with you, Gloria’s ultimatum and now the news this young kid didn’t make it you were officially mentally exhausted. 

You needed to move but by the time your legs finally lifted out of the seat, Robby told them. The mother’s wail of agony resounded through the room and rose in octaves. The soul-wrenching loss of her child, her baby, turned the Pitt into a mausoleum of mourning. Her cries followed you down the hallway until you reached the curtain where Whitaker and others were on their third round of Epi, and you could see the continued despair evident in the room. 

It was barely 9 AM and you already wanted to fucking go home. 

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

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[kajibunny]

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ we're just friends! (or are we?) w/ the wind breaker boys ✧⋆⭒˚｡

✿ featuring: hajime umemiya, jo togame, haruka sakura, hayato suo, ren kaji ✿ fluff, mutual pining, hidden feelings (aaaa), suggestive for suo, a lil angst (with comfort) for kaji ✿ a/n: i guess by now everyone can tell that i’m very into the friends to lovers trope ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა~♡ it’s def my fav!!! and these wb bois are all perfect friend material, and ofc boyfriend material too! enjoy, cuties! ✿ wc: 2.3k

— you have a closely intimate friendship to the point that everyone around you thinks you two are dating, though you know you're not lovers (yet), but are definitely more than just friends.

ʚɞ umemiya 

— sharing hello and goodbye kisses with each other.

ꕤ you and umemiya are the definition of 'affectionate', as your love languages both consist of physical touch. but maybe with each other, a little bit too much for just friends.

ꕤ the word "boundaries" did not exist to the both of you once you were within arm's reach of each other. you and umemiya give each other hello and goodbye hugs, sometimes cheek and forehead kisses, as a greeting, right? to be friendly. though he doesn't seem to do that as often to other people, or at all, even. just to you. only to you. 

ꕤ he also loves cuddling up to you whenever he takes a nap on the rooftop, inviting you to join him in picking out some veggies that you two could make a meal together with.

ꕤ while you two were cooking together, you definitely gave off a 'married couple' vibe with the way you held the ladle up for umemiya to taste, the way he had pressed his palm to your back whenever he needed to pass through, the way he fed you with his own spoon and giggling while complimenting how delicious your cooking was, the way he wrapped his arms around you and hummed while he helped you wash the dishes. anyone who saw would have immediately bid their congratulations and would think you two are newlyweds.

ꕤ hiragi took one look at the both of you appearing all lovey-dovey, and the confusion of whether you two were dating or not made his stomach scrunch up in pain. 

ꕤ umemiya calls you such adorable names when referring to you in conversation, too. his tiny bean, his ray of sunshine, his cherry blossom, it was always "his", as if you belonged to him. he was openly affectionate with you and was not afraid to show it.

ꕤ many guys also took a liking to you, but never attempted to even make a move or confess, because they were already under the assumption that you were umemiya's, seeing you two playing with each other's fingers and comparing hand sizes like you were made for each other. but how could that be, you and umemiya were just friends, weren't you?

ʚɞ suo 

— you get a special seat (on his lap).

ꕤ suo just can't seem to keep his eyes and his hands off of you. you always have to be within his vicinity, or he's not sure how he'll be able to stand it. 

ꕤ he sees you at the corner of his eye, after you have made your way back from the restroom. you and the other bofurin first years were at an izakaya, and the moment you returned, all of their eyes were glued to you and suo, as if they already knew something was going to ensue. you two have been friends for a long time, but the way you acted towards each other felt like you two have been lovers for a long time.

ꕤ suo was always up in your space, whether its pulling random pranks on you, inviting you to go out then paying for everything even though you tried to stop him (nothing can stop suo), visiting your home and leaving an endless supply of tea enough to last you a whole year - his excuse being it's there for whenever he comes over, and multiple instances which all prove that suo was no doubt a very clingy friend. not that you minded, anyway. you were used to suo and his antics.

ꕤ he had his ways of persuading you too (he is the master of negotiation, after all), and you just couldn't resist him, as you loved being around suo just as much. 

ꕤ this time, he took advantage of your short absence and made himself comfortable in your chair, and wouldn't even move an inch. "hayato, that's my seat!" you exclaimed. "hm?" suo tilts his head. "you can just sit on my lap, then." he smiles, with that damn mischievous smile you know all too well. you tried to get him to move by gently pushing him back and forth but suo seemed to not have a care in the world. 

ꕤ you can't tell whether suo is serious or joking sometimes, but nirei and sakura seems to have their doubts that you two are "just friends" as you both claim.  "are you sure the two of you aren't dating?" nirei asks you. sakura blushes and lets you know his thoughts, too. "y-yeah...! you two are unusually close!" you always reply to them with an astounding "no!" but suo just laughs and does not affirm nor deny any of their claims. 

ꕤ suo pulls you in close, making you sit on his lap regardless of your little outburst, and you weren't sure if it was hot in the izakaya, or if it's just you, but you certainly felt warmth overcome your body while it was pressed flush against his, his arms wrapped around your waist nonchalantly. "hayato!" you protested, trying to squirm your way out of his grasp, and pushing away all intrusive thoughts about his and your bottom halves being so close together, only separated by thin pieces of clothing.

ꕤ nirei, the most observant of the bunch (next to suo), points out that you even call suo by his first name, and that's another one of the reasons why you two seem like you're dating. 

ꕤ with suo, everything seems to be a mystery. but in suo's perspective, it's all clear. he loves you, whether it's as a friend or as a lover, that's for him to know and for you to find out. 

ʚɞ togame 

— leaves everyone on read except you.

ꕤ togame just doesn't understand why people need to type out what they want to say, aren't calls more personalized? he didn't understand at all, until he met you.

ꕤ you were, to put it directly, a chatterbox in all forms. you loved to talk, regardless if it's chats, calls, or in person, you just yapped your heart out to him everytime, and he lives for it. he wouldn't miss a second of you opening your mouth and giving him a taste of your innermost thoughts. he absolutely adored talking to you, because it was you, and you were special to him.

ꕤ the shishitoren guys thought it was so funny and adorable whenever togame picks up his phone so quickly because he thought it was you calling, then scowls when he realizes it isn't, and immediately silences it and shoves it back in his pocket. this caused him to set a different ringtone just for you, so he could pick up on the very first ring.

ꕤ you were also the first reply he ever sent via sms, a simple "ok" to your long message talking about how you thought it was amazing that he won the town's annual eating contest for many consecutive years in a row and that you were totally ready to challenge him next year by stuffing your face with okonomiyaki and invited togame to join you and have some with you so you could keep an eye on the competition. he found your personality totally amusing, his face immediately lighting up with a gentle smile whenever you sent him messages.

ꕤ anyone who sees how happy he is while he rereads your texts over and over would interpret that as togame being totally, irrevocably, head over heels in love with you.

ꕤ he doesn't actually reply to anyone at all ever, but he wanted to share all his firsts with you, he just couldn't help it. you were captivating, witty in your words, and very very charismatic, bombarding him with the cutest and funniest messages everyday. of course, he doesn't mind at all and is always looking forward to them.

ꕤ you two stay on calls for longer than eight hours at a time talking about how each other's day went, and yet you wonder why people always think you two are dating. normal friends don't stay up until the break of dawn chattering for hours on end, expressing all the things they like about each other, do they? at least togame knows he wouldn't do it with anyone that wasn't you, as he valued his precious sleep time dearly, but as time went on, you became more precious and more dear to him than his sleep time ever could.

ʚɞ kaji 

— play fighting like an old married couple.

ꕤ kaji is the type to never go down without a fight. needless to say, that also applies to you. but your fights with him were different, more banter adjacent, more affectionate and playful. only lasting for a few minutes.

ꕤ kaji had a huge soft spot for you, as even though you did irritate the heck out of him sometimes, somehow he still could not stay angry or annoyed at you for more than one second. he just couldn't resist the way you crossed your arms and huffed with your cute little frown. he thought you were the most adorable angry little thing he's ever seen and wanted to pinch your cheeks out of cuteness aggression and frustration, but he would never say it to your face.

ꕤ one time, you two had a heated argument because he said he could hear you just fine but wouldn't bother to take off his headphones. you argued that it was impolite and that you won't talk to him at all anymore if he does that again, and you two were at each other's throats, giving one another a piece of your mind, until kaji mutters a 'sorry', and you began to sob uncontrollably and let him hold you in his arms while he stroked your hair to comfort you because you two couldn't stand the intensity and tension of being angry at each other for long.

ꕤ you had your less serious fights too, like when you made him a bento box for lunch and you two had a picnic together with his vice captains. you fed him the food with your chopsticks, kaji teasing you by saying "it's bland." and you reasoning out that kaji was 'as salty as his tastebuds'. kaji then asked you if you wanted to have 'a taste of his fists', which ended up with kusumi and enomoto snickering in the background wishing that the both of you would just date each other already.

ꕤ whenever you two argued, your faces were so close to one another's that you were just a few centimeters shy from kissing, the tip of your noses touching. kaji had to hold himself back, a lot. like an insane amount. friends didn't want to kiss and make out with their friends, right? but kaji did. and you did too.

ꕤ his way of apologizing is by suddenly leaving a lollipop with you. he puts them in your bag, or places them in your pocket while you weren't looking. it was his little peace offering, one that you treasured and collected, accumulating dozens of them by your bedside table. kaji would gladly give up his last lollipop for you, and no one could argue otherwise.

ʚɞ sakura 

— blushing wildly whenever you two are around each other.

ꕤ you and sakura always looked like you two were having a blushing competition. the littlest touches and the most minimal contact had both of your cheeks heating up in response.

ꕤ it was like sakura's blushing was contagious. ever since you two became good friends (if you could call it that, though it seemed to be more than that at times), being around him triggered a whole bunch of embarrassing and hilarious but sweet situations.

ꕤ you once dragged sakura off to his very first cherry blossom viewing in the park, and needless to say, with both of you being a chaotic (but cute) duo, it kind of felt like you were on a wild rollercoaster ride with him. 

ꕤ you took a stolen photo of sakura while he was mesmerized by the falling pink petals. you thought he looked adorable, but sakura thought otherwise. he was a blushing mess and told you to delete them, but you said they were cute and that you were going to make it your wallpaper. 

ꕤ sakura chased after you, and tripped over a stray cherry blossom branch, leaving you two in quite a suggestive position, sakura on top of you, pinning your wrist down with his hand. your cheeks were as pink as the cherry blossoms, and tried as you might, you couldn't keep your eyes off his lips. friends don't observe their friends with wanting eyes, do they? 

ꕤ suo and nirei instantly noticed how huge of a klutz you were around sakura. they also noticed how curious sakura was about you, always (not so subtly) asking nirei how much he knew about you, or your likes and dislikes, then asked him not to tell you that he asked about you. but suo told you instead, because they were your biggest supporters and cheerleaders (and biggest shippers, of course) after all. 

ꕤ on sakura's birthday, they made you hold the cake and surprise him, which was a huge mistake, because before it could even reach him, you slipped and fell over him. luckily, sakura had good reflexes and was able to catch you before you completely toppled over. some of the smushed cake ended up on his and your face, which you tried to wipe off as you apologized, but sakura dipped his finger onto the icing that got on your cheek and licked his finger. "t-the cake's not bad, i guess..." he looked away from your smiling face as you greeted him happy birthday in a sing-song tune.

ꕤ suo, being a menace, greeted sakura happy birthday as well as gave him a 'best wishes to the happy couple' greeting card, that sakura threw back at him like it had a virus on it. 

ꕤ sakura definitely had a memorable birthday that year, but now that he thought about it, all of his memories that were memorable to him had one thing in common: you were in all of them. you, the greatest gift he could ever ask for on any and every occasion. 

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