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science-hoes · 28 days ago

Text

Maroon

Dr. Michael Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, age gap, unprotected sex

A/N: This ended up being a 6.2k word fic that I wrote after having some wine. This was definitely NOT proofread, but I did my best! I enjoyed writing this so much. I love Michael Robinavitch with my whole heart.

—

You knew you looked good. Fuck, you had spent three hours getting ready. Exfoliating your entire body to be smoother than marble. Shaving your legs and pelvic area. Massaging lotion deep into your skin. Blow-dried hair and flawless makeup. And your outfit. A long, red, satin dress that hung off your shoulders, snatched around your waist, and a slit that showcased your left upper thigh.

You walked into the Pitt, the clicking of your black heels announcing your presence. Every head, single and taken, craned to watch you pass by. The path up to the nurses' station might as well have been a catwalk. When Dana turned around, she let out a surprised laugh.

“Wow! I didn’t know you owned any clothes besides scrubs.” She teased.

You smiled and leaned against the counter. “To be fair, this is probably the only nice outfit I have.” You admitted.

Dana glanced around the room, and just about every person, staff and patients alike, were trying to sneak glances at you. “Well, you’ve certainly got everyone’s attention. Why are you all dressed up?” She asked.

You rubbed your hands together, trying to soothe yourself, swallowing hard before you spoke to mask any insecurities in your voice. “I had a date. Got stood up.” You replied.

Dana furrowed her brow when she saw your nose scrunch at the early sting of tears. “Stood up? Does he know you look like this?” She waved her hands down your body as if she were presenting you to an audience.

You felt a smile reach your lips again and giggled slightly. “I mean, he had only seen me in scrubs.” You answered.

Dana leaned in, suspicion in her eyes. “Was it someone from the Pitt?” She whispered.

You looked around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, but you still shielded your lips when you mouthed the name “Matteo.”

She pulled her lips into a thin line and nodded. “Not surprised. Good nurse, but still a kid.” She said.

You shrugged, shoulders pulling closer to your frame to minimize yourself. “We’re the same age. I just thought he was a little more serious than that.” You confessed.

Your work mom pointed her index finger at you. “What you need is a man. Not some kid. Someone older.” She advised.

A huff of air passed your lips, and you stood up straight again. “Trust me, I’ve been trying.” You glanced around before leaning in again. “A certain stick-in-the-mud won’t hold a conversation longer than thirty seconds if it’s not about a patient.”

Dana chuckled. “Too bad he’s already gone home for the night. Otherwise, I think you’d have him wrapped around your finger if he saw how you looked right now.” She mused.

You smiled at the thought and compliment. “I’ve kinda given up on that. It’s out of my reach. Hence, my date tonight.”

“Well, never say never. Now why are you here instead of at a bar picking up hot men?” She asked.

You looked towards the doctor’s lounge. “I left my purse here. Has my driver’s license and everything. Just glad I didn’t get pulled over.” You replied.

She smiled and gave you a ‘get outta here’ nod of her head. “Get your stuff and go have some fun. Don’t let a stupid boy ruin your night. But not too much fun because I don’t want to see your body search on the evening news.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Okay, fine. I’ll probably just go to Fenian’s across the street.” You agreed before heading toward the doctor’s lounge.

As you opened the door, you bumped into someone exiting the lounge. “Oh, I’m sorry.” The familiar voice said. Dr. Robby towered over you, still not looking down, distracted by the last few minutes of his shift. “This is a doctor's lounge. We ask that patients and families-“

“Doctor Robby.” You said, trying to get him to actually look down at you.

And boy, when he finally did. Robby’s breath hitched once he realized it was you. He had already pinned you as a patient’s girlfriend, probably in the ER after your boyfriend had an allergic reaction at a fancy restaurant.

“Oh.” Was all he could say.

His eyes scanned your body, lingering a little too long at your exposed cleavage. You fiddled with the delicate bracelet around your wrist out of nervousness and let out a breathy laugh. “Sorry, I just left my purse here.” You said.

Without a word, Robby held the door open for you, and you went inside. You grabbed your purse, slung it over your shoulder, and exited the room again. “Thank you.” You added before heading towards the entrance of the Pitt.

Robby’s eyes were locked on your calves as you strutted away in those black heels. He felt winded like he had fallen flat on his back and had the air knocked out of his lungs. Slowly, he walked up to the nurses’ station, not taking his eyes off you until you exited the building.

Meanwhile, Dana had been watching the entire interaction. Amused, she leaned back in her chair. “I thought you went home.” She said.

Robby rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tic. “Uh, no. Not yet.” He answered.

“You look like you’ve seen an angel.” She teased.

He leaned against the high counter and shook his head. “No, I just didn’t recognize her.” He replied.

Dana rolled her eyes. “Come on, Robby. Productivity dropped fifty percent the moment she walked in the door. You can admit that she looked good.” She said.

He looked to Dana like admitting it out loud would be an unforgivable sin. It would verify that he had entertained the idea of dragging you to an on-call room with him or bringing you coffee at the beginning of your shift. “She’s half my age. I could be her father.” He replied.

Dana shrugged. “A young father.” She amended.

Robby rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t shake the image of you walking away. Hair bouncing on your back with every step, the sway of your hips. “Why was she all dressed up?” He asked.

“She had a date and got stood up. Can you believe that?” She answered.

No. He really couldn’t believe that. How does someone as intelligent as you, looking like a modern-day goddess, get stood up? But he said nothing to show his hand.

“I’m about to head out. Anything you need before I leave?” He asked instead, drumming his hands on the high counter.

Dana gave him a skeptical look. “No. Go on, get out of here before night shift drags you into a room.” She replied. And as Robby began to walk away, he heard Dana add, “She’s at Fenian’s.”

Fenian’s. The bar across from the hospital. Robby began to consider it. Showing up after his shift in scrubs that had probably come in contact with every possible bodily fluid that day. His eyes were sunken in from dehydration and sleep deprivation. All while you looked like a pin-up poster girl. And you probably had men on either side of you now, each trying to best the other to win your affections.

His mind ran on like that until he found himself standing at the entrance of the bar, the neon blue ‘OPEN’ sign shining bright in his eyes. He turned to leave, shaking his head in disbelief that he had even walked to the bar. Until he saw you through the window. Sitting alone at the counter. Legs delicately crossed, posture impeccable. You sipped on what looked like vodka and club soda, eyes peering up at the Steelers game on the TV. You looked like an angel in the low light of the bar.

Robby didn’t realize he had walked in through the door until a bell signaled that he entered. The bartender looked up and smiled. “Hey, Robby. What can I get ya?” She asked.

You didn’t turn around, eyes focused on the game. You hadn’t even considered that it was your Robby who walked in. “Shot of Lalo, please.” He answered.

His voice made your heart jump to your throat. You turned your head, hair tossing naturally over your shoulder. Robby smiled, but it was a small one. Slowly, he moved to sit at the barstool next to you, back leaning against the bar to watch a different game on the TV behind you.

“Can’t stay away from the hospital for too long, huh?” He said, trying to begin a lighthearted conversation.

You studied the way he sat next to you, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted up to watch the game. You smiled slightly. “I was supposed to have a date.” You answered, almost embarrassed.

“Didn’t show up?”

“No. He even had the day off, too.”

Robby finally glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your posture regressed to a slouch, and you stared blankly at your fizzing cup on the bar. A strange twist in his chest arose at the pitiful sight. He turned slightly to face you, leaning an elbow on the counter.

“You deserve better than that.” He affirmed.

You huffed at his words and took a sip of your drink. “I guess he really is more interested in Javadi.” You said.

Robby raised an eyebrow. “Javadi? You mean you were supposed to go on a date with Matteo?”

Your silent nod sent a vile jolt of jealousy through his body. One that he hadn’t expected. He downed his shot of tequila that he had let sit on the bar. The burn in his throat distracted him from the nausea pooling in his stomach at the thought of you and Matteo. Someone much younger than him. Better looking than him.

“Maybe it’s a good thing. I’m looking to settle down, and he doesn’t seem like he’s in that headspace.” You finally added.

Robby raised a finger to the bartender, who poured another shot for him. “Yeah, I don’t think he is.” He confirmed.

You glanced up at him as he threw back the second shot. It hurt to hear the truth confirmed, even if you already knew. But then Dana’s words seemed to creep into your mind.

“Dana said I need someone older.” You found yourself admitting.

Robby met your gaze again, feeling a whisper of warmth in his cheeks, unsure if it was the tequila or your words. “Older.” He repeated, though not as a question.

You nodded and turned to face him on your barstool. The slit in your shimmering red dress widened to reveal even more of your thigh, dangerously close to your hip. Robby couldn’t help himself from looking, and you noticed the way his eyes politely flicked back up to yours with a swiftness.

“Someone who knows what he wants. Knows how to take care of me.” You tested the waters, seeing if Robby would take the bait.

He remained guarded, but his eyes were riveted on your thickly glossed lips. “Take care of you.” He mumbled to himself like an oath.

You shrugged. “Or at least let me take care of him.” You added, voice laced with sultry.

Robby’s dark chocolate eyes snapped up, a twinkle of understanding within them. Your lips curved into a small smile, and you leaned in closer, your cleavage deepening from the change in position. “Do you know of anyone like that?” You asked softly, feigning innocence.

You were close enough now to smell the strong aroma of Lalo on his breath, and he was intoxicated by the sweet scent of your perfume. “I-“ He began to stutter, the pitch of his voice faltering. “You’ve been drinking. I’m not going to take advantage of you.” He said as firmly as he was able to.

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to your drink. “That’s Sprite.” You deadpanned. “I’m sober. Are you?”

Robby chuckled at the idea that two shots of tequila would make him feel anything. “Absolutely.” He answered.

Your bare knee brushed against his, leaning in impossibly close now. “Then take me home.” You whispered.

Robby’s hands trembled as he ran one through his thinning dark hair. “I don’t do hookups. I can’t do casual. I can only handle something real.” He warned. “I know you’re upset about Matteo not showing-”

“Robby.” You cut him off. “I never wanted him. I’ve always wanted you.”

The air hung heavy between the two of you. Your doe eyes were making him crumble. “You want me?” He questioned. Now he was concerned that two shots of tequila did affect him.

You rose to your feet, standing in between his spread legs now, still craning your neck up at him. The distance between your lips was minuscule, and for the first time, you placed your hands on his body, resting them on his chest. “I want you. Take me home.” You reaffirmed.

—-

The door to Robby’s house slammed shut after he pulled you through the threshold. He pinned you against it, hands resting on the wood on either side of your head. His head lowered so that your noses brushed, but he wouldn’t go any farther than that.

Your hands found rest on his chest again, flush against the fabric of his navy hoodie. “Are you gonna kiss me, Robby?” You asked.

Robby’s smile pulled to one side of his face as he studied the beautiful features of your face. “My name is Michael.” He whispered and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead. “Only here.” A kiss on your cheek. “Only for you.” A kiss on your jaw.

Your breath staggered at the sensation of his beard dragging across your soft skin. “Michael.” You tested the name on your lips. It felt intimate. It felt natural.

Robby grinned, and his teeth dragged across your skin as he finally made his way to your lips. Your mouth opened immediately to welcome his, slipping your tongue across his bottom lip. He answered with a quiet moan and deepened the kiss by grabbing the back of your head and pulling you closer. Your arms draped around his neck, pushing your entire body against his. You both savored the simplicity of kissing, learning each other’s mouths, familiarizing yourselves with the closeness of your souls for the first time. His hand that wasn’t rooted in your hair explored the curves of your waist and back, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it wandered.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away first but stayed close with his nose nuzzling against yours. “I’m gonna take care of you tonight. The way you deserve.” He whispered, lips ghosting over yours as he spoke. “But I have some ground rules, okay?”

You nodded, gently scratching his beard with your fingertips. “Okay.” You agreed.

“Number one. We can’t tell anyone at work. I don’t want anyone knowing what happens between us at home. And more importantly, I don’t want anyone questioning your judgement as a doctor because I’ve got a soft spot for you. Okay?” He pressed a kiss to your cheek when he finished.

You closed your eyes and nodded again. “Okay.”

“Number two. You’ll always communicate what you’re feeling. What you need, what you aren’t ready for. I’ll do the same.” Another kiss on your temple.

Another nod. “Okay.”

“And number three. Look at me, baby girl.” He tilted your chin up with a hooked finger. “Please don’t run when you see the skeletons in the closet.”

Your eyes locked with his deep brown ones that glimmered in the low light of his living room. For the first time since he brought you home, he looked timid. Like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. Like he was terrified of fracturing the fresh connection you both made tonight.

A final nod, and you cradled his face in your hands. “I promise I won’t run.”

And with one more kiss on the lips, smiles pressed against each other, Robby led you to his bedroom. You never let yourself imagine what his home looked like, let alone his bedroom. But it was neat and simple. No decoration aside from medical journal papers stacked high on every flat surface.

He sat on the edge of his bed and pulled you into his lap. His lips trailed across your bare shoulder, leaving gentle kisses as his fingers delicately slid the straps of your dress down. You shivered at the light touches and pulled at his hoodie. Instead of taking it off, your silent wish, he stopped kissing your body and tilted his head up at you.

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” He demanded in a sickeningly sweet tone.

Your cheeks flushed at the commandment, and suddenly you felt powerless. “I want to feel your skin.” You begged pathetically.

Robby held your gaze as he shrugged off his hoodie, then pulled his scrub top and undershirt over his head, jostling his hair a bit. Your eyes studied his upper body. Freckles dusted his broad shoulders. His abdominal muscles were toned, but not excessively so. A couple of scars were cemented near his ribcage from hostile patient encounters. A glitter of gold lured your eyes to his sternum.

A smile melted on your face. “The Star of David.” You mumbled.

Robby tilted his head slightly. “Yeah?” He affirmed, unsure of why his pendant captivated you.

You brushed your fingertips across the metal, cool from the air. Your hands lifted the Star from his chest, inspecting it gingerly. Robby wouldn’t admit it, but in that moment, he felt like a dog on a leash from the gentle tug of his chain in your hands. And he loved it.

“I’ve always wondered what it was.” You mused to yourself. “You wear it every day.”

Robby nodded, an unconscious smile gracing his lips. “My savta gave it to me. I never take it off.” He confirmed.

“Softa?” You were unsure of the word.

“Savta.” He repeated with the utmost patience. “It means ‘grandmother’ in Hebrew.”

You smiled and nodded as the first branch into his past formed between you. “Savta.” You repeated correctly this time. “When did she give it to you?”

Robby brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes, thinking for a moment. “When I was about six or seven.” He answered. “It’s older than you.” He added with a wink, but couldn’t hold back his grin.

You giggled and threw your arms around his shoulders. And he laughed. Not like the sarcastic ones you heard at work when he was exasperated, but one full of heartfelt joy. The sound was so beautiful that it nearly brought tears to your eyes. His mouth found yours again, and you fell back into the waltz of lips.

His fingers grasped the zipper of your dress and lazily pulled it down, unsheathing your upper body from the silky fabric. Your chest became exposed to the frigid air of his home, and your skin tightened at the temperature.

Robby pulled away to analyze your newly exposed skin. Your breasts hung perfectly from your chest, and his absent-minded hand cupped one of them, massaging gently.

“So beautiful.” He murmured as his lips returned to your upper body, slowly moving his way down.

His mouth latched onto one of your nipples, pulling back with suction until a loud smack from his lips filled the air as your breast recoiled into place. You moaned at the sensation, digging your fingers into his scalp. He continued to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Suck and smack. Then, he dragged his tongue across your nipple, rough tastebuds scraping smoothly against it. While he worked on one with his mouth, he used his fingers to tweak and tug at the other. You let out a squeal of delight, and Robby couldn’t help but chuckle.

“That feel good?” He asked before latching onto your breast again.

You shivered at intense pressure on your breasts. “Feels so good.” You mumbled.

Just when you thought the sensation had maxed out, the unmistakable hardness of teeth grazed across your nipples, and an involuntary scream left your vocal cords. The mix of pain and pleasure wasn’t new to you, but it had never felt this good. Robby looked up to you with those innocent brown eyes, teeth still clenched around your sensitive bud. With his gaze locked on yours, he relieved the pressure of his teeth, your skin snapping back to its configuration.

“Michael!” You shrieked, and your shrillness only encouraged him to follow suit for the other nipple.

Surely, by now, your fingernails had dug their graves within his scalp. But Robby relished the feeling of your oversensitivity inflicting pain of his own. With confidence, he trailed his hand down your waist, your hip, and to the slit in your dress. The very opening that taunted him at the bar, daring him to brush against your thigh in public. But when his fingers reached up, up, up to your hip line, he froze.

You furrowed your brow at the halt in momentum, and you looked to his face. He stared back at you, face suddenly unreadable.

“You don’t-” He began, but he paused to take in a deep breath. “You don’t have anything on under the dress?”

You studied his face, trying to understand what his angle was. Of course, you weren’t wearing panties. It was a silk dress, and any kind of…oh.

Oh.

You finally felt like you had the high ground again. An involuntary smirk found its way to your lips. “No.” You answered innocently.

Robby’s chest puffed out, and a primal, vicious jealousy coarsed through his veins for the second time tonight. The very notion that you went garmentless for your date with Matteo reinforced his mission to treat you better than that boyish nurse would have.

“You only do that for me from now on. You understand?” He growled in your ear.

The dominance made your spine feel weak, and you nodded. “Yeah.” You breathed.

Robby fisted your hair, forcing your face to meet his eyes. The same ones you often saw at work when he was reaching his maximum level of fury. “You can answer better than that.” He said.

Fuck, he was sexy when he was pissed. “Yes, sir.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s what I thought.” He relented, finally letting his fingers move under your dress again.

Rough, calloused pads brushed against your pelvis, moving down until they slipped against your weeping pussy. The sound that fell from Robby’s lips was unholy but heavenly as he collected your wetness on his fingertips, and your hips ground against them subconsciously.

You felt tears sting your eyes as the burning desire to be filled with some part of his body grew stronger. “Michael, please.” You begged.

Once again, Robby’s eyes locked on yours, and the desperation in his face gave you some hope. His index finger swirled around your external anatomy, collecting lubrication, before plunging into your pussy. And just that one, long finger was enough to draw a scream from you. A smug smile slithered across his face as he curled his finger inside you, pressing his fingerprint against your gummy walls.

“Think you can handle another one?” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand clenched around his bicep, feeling the muscles ripple underneath his skin as he fingered you. “Yes, please.” You begged.

Robby deftly inserted his middle finger, curling it in tandem with his index. The stretch was pleasant, and the added finger reached even farther inside you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a string of shredded moans. “That’s my good girl.” He whispered in praise as he continued to pump his wrist.

Finally, once you adjusted to the width of his fingers, you formed a coherent statement. “Can you please fuck me?” You pleaded.

Robby’s smile wasn’t one of agreement but one that mirrored a parent admiring a child’s innocence. “Oh, sweetheart, we’ll get there.” He assured you.

His hand movements stopped, and he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, leaving you uncomfortably empty. He raised his fingers to his line of vision. Your wetness formed slick webs between his two fingers, and he studied it like a new scientific discovery. Then his tongue tore apart the webs, devouring every drop.

Watching him consume your juices with such fervor sent an involuntary pulse to your pussy, foreshadowing his next steps.

“You taste so fucking good.” He growled, pulling his large fingers from his mouth once he sucked them clean. “Stand up for me.” He ordered.

Knees trembling, you rose to your feet, trying to balance yourself in your heels. Robby held you by your ribcage, letting your dress fall to the floor and pool at your ankles, revealing your fully naked body to him. After sitting you back down on the bed, he knelt on the hardwood floor of his bedroom and delicately removed your heels like you were a reverse Cinderella. This level of care overwhelmed you, but you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Robby positioned himself between your legs, initiating a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses beginning at your ankle, moving up to your knee, then your inner thigh. He could feel the furnace heat of your pussy on his nose as he inched closer to your opening. Your knees hung over his shoulders, his hands finding purchase on the outside of your thighs. Then, without a warning, he engulfed your entire womanhood in his mouth, pulling back dangerously slow to create suction. The scream from your throat rivaled that of a psychiatric patient waiting for a room in the Pitt.

The overwhelmed tears from your eyes finally streaked down your temples as your back arched and head tilted back at his magical tongue. You repeated his name over and over and over, and his only answer came in deep grunts, the vibrations adding an unfamiliar sensation to your building orgasm.

His tongue expertly manuevered inside your pussy like a ship on treacherous waters. Every lick, suck, and nibble drove you farther from sanity. And when his thumb reached up to spiral around your delicate clit? Then you only had seconds until you spilled juices inside his mouth.

“Michael, I’m-” Your voice staggered, trying to focus on circling your release. “I’m gonna-”

Your first orgasm came in a tsunami, splashing juices into Robby’s mouth, which he gratefully lapped up like it was an oasis in a desert. Your thighs had clenched around his neck like a boa constrictor, but he had anticipated your release based on the pulsing of your walls around his tongue.

As you came down from your high, Robby kissed back up your body, whispering praises like “that’s my girl” and “so fucking good for me.” When he reached your face and your eyes could focus again, you saw his beard glistening with your cum.

You grasped the back of his neck and pulled him close in a kiss, tasting your own salty flavor. “You’re really good at that.” You mumbled, breath still faltering from your high.

Robby chuckled, dragging his nose against yours. “It’s easy when you taste like fucking candy.” He confessed.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, and for the first time in a long time, you realized he still had his scrub cargo pants on. Suddenly, you felt a surge of energy.

“Take off your pants.” You demanded.

Robby pulled away from your shared intimacy with a raised eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He asked in the same tone he used in a patient’s room when a junior resident defied him.

Your eyes narrowed, darker than they had been before. “Take off. Your pants.” You broke it down for him.

Robby didn’t know how to handle the change in dynamics. He had been in control in every sexual encounter he ever had since his virginity was lost in college. While he didn’t want to yield, something about the tone in your voice was compelling him to reach for his belt. He stood up straight, leisurely reached for the buckle, and tugged, letting the leather slither from around his waist. You sat up on the bed, watching him undress for you in the lamp-glow of the room with a similar view of power that he had once given you a few minutes ago.

Robby unfastened his cargo scrub bottoms and shucked them off, leaving only his grey boxer-briefs, stained with a pool of precum. You marveled at the man in front of you for the first time. His body was exactly what you imagined in your late-night fantasies. Six foot one, muscled appropriately, and…

Actually, you hadn’t imagined that. His cock bulging from his boxer-briefs, threatening to shred through the fabric. Much larger than you had pictured based on his height and weight, which was already pretty large.

His hand unconsciously massaged his aching dick, and that brought you back to reality. You tilted your head, crossing your ankles over the edge of the bed. “Why are you touching yourself?” You asked, sitting closer to the edge of the bed. “My mouth is right here.”

Robby’s eyes widened slightly, even though he had plenty of blowjobs in his lifetime. But something about your tone excited him. That you were eager to suck him off. You reached a hand out and snatched the waistband of his boxer-briefs, reeling him closer. Then, in one swift motion, you pulled them down, and his cock sprang out, nearly smacking your jaw.

Fucking glorious. Cut, veined, thick, and tilting down from the sheer weight. Your mouth watered at the sight, and your pussy clenched in preparation for later. You wrapped your hand around his cock, barely fitting your grasp, and brushed the tip of your tongue across the head. Robby grasped the back of his neck with both hands, groaning at the lightest touch. You licked up the pearls of his precum, indulging in the salty appetizer. Your moans of delight and its resonance sent a shiver up his spine. He grasped a fistful of your hair to ground himself.

“Listen, kid, I’m not gonna be able to last very long if you keep-” He began.

But you cut him off by plunging down his length with your mouth until your nose was snug against his pelvis. The yell he let out was visceral and animalistic. You half expected him to yank at your hair, but instead he pushed you deeper. Your throat stretched with his length, surely bruising your soft palette. You pulled away, mouth watering even more from the gag reflex.

Robby whispered your name, but you sunk down on him again, drawing another carnal scream from his vocal cords. This time, you remained in place, letting him feel with his free hand the stretch in your esophagus from his cock. He pulled away this time, refusing to let himself come in your mouth.

With impressive ease, Robby man-handled your body and tossed you up further on the bed, crawling over you until his face hovered above yours. “You can take care of me another time.” He whispered, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Tonight is about you.”

Your eyes were lost in his again, and for a moment, neither of you moved. But in that moment of peace, you felt a dangerous vulnerability. Your brows furrowed, holding back unexpected tears. “This isn’t a one-night stand, right?” You whispered.

Robb’s face softened, almost to sadness that he hadn’t already convinced you otherwise. With one elbow propping him above your body, he used his free hand to brush some disheveled strands of hair from your face. “Listen to me.” He ordered with the same authority he used in the hospital. “I told you I can’t do casual hookups. I meant that. This is something that I’ve wanted for an embarrassingly long time. I’m right here, right now. And I will be right here tomorrow.” He continued. “And the next day.” He pressed a kiss to your collarbone. “And the next day.” A kiss to your neck. “And the ne-”

You cut him off with a cheerful kiss, smiling against his lips. Robby let his body press heavier against yours in the moment of innocent love, although you wouldn’t say that out loud for another couple of months. “Michael.” You breathed against his mouth.

He hummed in response, moving his lips down your jaw, tempted to leave territorial marks on your neck for the rest of the Pitt staff to see. You grabbed his face so his eyes met yours again, forcing the connection. “I am begging you. Please fuck me.” You whispered.

Robby finally gave in, deciding he had worshipped you long enough for tonight. With a nod, he reached down and lined his cock up to your entrance, The tip nudged against your threshold, and you gave him a nod of confirmation. Slowly, every inch of him buried deeper, deeper inside you. The stretch of your pussy was paralyzing, and you couldn’t make a sound despite your open mouth.

Once he sank all the way, maxing out at the hilt, he gave a pathetic grunt. “Oh, fucking hell.” He breathed, unable to move from the overpowering tightness of your walls.

For a minute, you both remained still to adjust to each other. Tears welled in your eyes again at the overexpansion of your pussy. Then he began to move. In and out. In and out. A slow, molasses pace to start out. Your breaths were heavy to adjust to his unprecedented size, and his breaths staggered to hold his orgasm back from your tightness. But as he continued to move, you eventually began to meet him in the middle.

Vulgar squelching sounds of your sopping wet pussy meeting the wall of his firm pelvis filled the bedroom. His hips pistoned into yours, the pace becoming steadier and controlled. His eyes never left your face, which scrunched in ecstasy and bliss. He wished he could save that image forever.

There were other positions he wanted to fuck you in. On your knees in his bed, ass in the air. Against the wall of an on-call room. In the backseat of his truck on a hiking trip. Riding him reverse cowgirl on his living room couch. But right now was for both of you. For the months of stolen glances at each other in the Pitt, lingering hands while trading CPR positions, hopeful wishes that the other showed up on a random night shift assignment.

Robby dropped his head to capture your lips as he railed into you. Gratefully, you returned the kiss, grasping the short strands of hair on the back of his head. His Star of David pendant slapped against your chin over and over and over. “Michael.” You whispered in the same cadence that alerted your first orgasm.

He nodded, reaching down to your clit again to work you through the next release. “That’s right. I can feel you getting ready.” He guided, circling your sensitive spot again and again. “Come for me one more time.” He pleaded.

It didn’t take much for your high to snap again. Your walls clenched around his cock, soaking it further. Robby grunted at each squeeze of your pussy, hips becoming weaker as he neared his own climax.

“I’m almost there.” He breathed. “Where do you want me?”

Your eyes snapped open through your dazed bliss, and your legs wrapped around his waist. “Inside me. Please, Michael. I want to feel you.” You pleaded.

That was all Robby needed to hear. A few more vulnerable grunts, and he erupted inside you. Each hot rope of cum was an unusual sensation. He was the first person you allowed to come inside you, let alone beg. He collapsed on top of you, chest heaving. Your hand lazily ran through his sweat-soaked hair.

“I’ve wanted that for a long time.” You admitted, rubbing circles with your other hand on his slippery back.

Robby pressed a gentle kiss to your dewy chest. “Me too.” He agreed.

For a few minutes longer, while your vitals returned to normal, there was peace and quiet for the first time that night. Just exhausted bodies clinging together, enjoying the silence in each other’s presence.

Finally, Robby sat up. “Wait here.” He instructed before heading to his bathroom. You heard the shower start, and he emerged with a dampened wash cloth.

He sat on the edge of his bed, dark hair slack against his forehead from sweat. He cleaned you up with the cloth, making sure nothing was left behind. Then, he placed a hand to the side of your face, cradling it. “Let’s shower and go to bed, okay?” He whispered,

You agreed and followed him to the bathroom. You both reveled in the warmth of the shower, washing each other and kissing until the water turned icy cold. Robby supplied you with a fluffy towel to dry off with, a New Orleans t-shirt, and a pair of his boxer briefs as pajama pants. Once you both settled into his bed again, he pulled you close. Closer than any man had ever held you at night.

“Gotta work tomorrow?” He mumbled against your wet hair.

You shook your head. “No. Seven on, seven off.” You whispered. “What about you?”

“Nope. Seven on, seven off.” He replied.

And with the next week off, you both had plenty of opportunity to make up for lost time.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #michael robinavitch #dr michael robinavitch x reader #dr. michael robinavitch #michael robinavitch x reader #dr robby #doctor robby #noah wyle #the pitt fanfiction #dana evans

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spaceyaemonds · 9 days ago

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pairing: dr. jack abbot x reader

sum.: you meet a few of jack’s coworkers.

warnings: age gap (jack is late 40s, reader is 23), slightish angst?? just incase?? i don’t think it is but just incase, unplanned pregnancy, jack is divorced, not a widower, and it is mentioned that he previously did not want kids. minors DNI.

notes: okay so this is not what i had initially planned for this part, but i could not get what was supposed to be the second half of this to flow how i wanted so i am scrapping some of it and putting into part 6! also, there will definitely still be a lot of teasing and stuff said by the ED staff!!! i just didn’t know how to incorporate everyone here quite yet, but it’ll come! starting with part 6, they will be slightly longer pieces (but all less than 4-5k words) so we can get more into the drama of the story. in the next part, there will be slight angst (that was supposed to be here LOL, i’m sorry!) AND smut! i also have a few more drabbles for this universe that i hope to post this week, but parts 6 (and possibly 7) will be taking priority along with the schedule i posted yesterday. unedited. and as always, any feedback is extremely appreciated, it helps keep me motivated. especially reblogs/comments/asks!

wc: 1k

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Unfortunately, immediately after getting off the phone with you and getting his keys to Dana, an ambulance pulls up with a trauma, which not only means he is probably not going to be able to see you, but you’re meeting Dana alone.

Which leaves you in your current situation, standing awkwardly in front of said nurse while she looks you over, studying you.

Of all the things she was expecting when Jack Abbot told him a girl was coming to pick up his keys and drop hers off, you are not at all what her brain came up with.

Not that there’s anything wrong with you, except for the fact you look a little young for Jack. But she definitely didn’t imagine you.

“So, you’re borrowing Jack’s truck?” Her tone is friendly when she asks.

She seems nice, but she makes you nervous. Being here makes you nervous. You don’t know what Jack has or hasn’t told his coworkers about you or this situation.

You nod, a small smile on your face despite your discomfort, “Um, yes. I’m buying a new desk and my car is too small to get it home,”

She nods politely, “Are you neighbors?”

She knows the answer, that you are definitely not neighbors, but she’s curious about what you’ll say.

You bite your lip, “Uh, something like that?”

She raises her eyebrow at the way you word your answer as a question, but before she can speak up, Samira says your name.

She’s smiling brightly, “I thought that was you! Are you doing okay?,”

You smile back at her, “I’m good,”

“How’s the baby?”

You freeze, glancing at Dana out of the corner of your eye, praying to god that she doesn’t put it together.

Dana’s brows raise to her hairline, looking between you and Samira, and then briefly glancing at trauma two. No fucking way.

“Um, good- great actually. Just a little grape in there,” You chuckle, gesturing to your abdomen before turning to Dana, digging your keys out of your purse and clipping the key to your apartment off the chain.

“Anyway, um, can you just make sure Jack gets these, please?”

Dana nods, “You sure you don’t wanna try and wait for him?”

You look between her and Samira, a slightly anxious look in your eyes, “Yeah, no. He’s gonna be by later anyway so I’ll just see him then,”

You wince, why the fuck did you say that?

That causes Dana to smirk, “He’ll be over later,”

“Yeah, well I mean, maybe. He’ll have to get his truck back at some point. Probably tonight, but I mean who knows, ya know?”

In the midst of your rambling, you don’t realize Jack has finally wrapped up his case and is standing right behind you.

“What are you going on about?”

You about jump out of your skin, “Oh my god!” Your hand is on your chest as you take a deep breath, dramatically trying to calm yourself down, “You scared me,”

He laughs with a cheeky shrug, mumbling a small sorry as he squeezes your shoulder gently before taking your keys from Dana. He bites back a laugh at the lip gloss attached to your keychain, “You aren’t gonna need that?”

You smile, the anxious feeling finally leaving you, “No, I have a few in my purse.”

Jack briefly catches Dana’s eye as he places his hand on your shoulders and guides you out of the ED, her eyebrows are raised in question, glancing between the two of you. He shakes his head at her and mouths later and continues walking you to where he’s parked, not realizing the storm he’s started up at the nurses station.

“Now, don’t go lifting this desk by yourself or anything like that. It’s not good for you or the baby,”

You glance up at him, “I already places the order for it, they’re just going to put it in the truck when I’m ready and a neighbor said he could get his son and they can bring it up for me,”

He tries not to bristle at the mention of your neighbor that he hasn’t met yet.

“Alright, well I can help you get it put together tonight and make sure your equipment gets all set up.”

His offer makes you smile brightly at him, “Are you sure? I know you’ll be tired after working,”

He shakes his head, “I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t do it, honey.”

There’s that name again. You love it when he calls you that, it makes you feel warm inside.

He bites back a smirk as he watches you squirm, already knowing you well enough to know your cheeks feel hot.

“Well, if you insist. I’ll have dinner and beer ready when you get to my place,”

“You sure know the way to a man’s heart, honey.”

“Just yours, anyway,” You don’t give him time to respond, leaving quickly and not even realizing the impact your words just had on him.

When he gets back inside, Dana is giving him a side eye, and try as he might, he just can’t ignore it.

“Just say what you need to say,”

Dana hums, “She’s young,”

Jack sighs, running a hand down his face before scratching at his jaw, “Yeah,”

“She pregnant?”

There’s no judgment in her question, she watches silently as he pulls out his wallet to hand her the photo of your ultrasound.

“Yeah, ten weeks.”

She sighs softly, looking at the baby, “Yours?”

Jack just grunts in response. Not sure what to say or how to say it.

Dana puts a hand on his arm, squeezing softly, “I thought you didn’t want kids?”

He closes his eyes, “I didn’t. This wasn’t exactly planned. But I’m taking responsibility for this, for her,”

“Does she want you to take responsibility for her?” Dana’s question is valid, and Jack knows that.

“I told her I wouldn’t abandon her. And I won’t.”

“You’re a good man, Jack,” She gives his arm one final squeeze before pulling her hand away, “She seems nice,”

He smiles, “Yeah, she is. Real fucking smart too. And funny,”

Dana feels her chest squeeze at how Jack looks when he talks about you, unable to recall if he’s ever been this way before.

They sit in silence for a few moments before glancing up at Robby when he makes his way up, devilish glint in his eyes.

Jack sighs, already knowing what’s coming.

“I didn’t realize your babies mom is in her twenties, Jack,”

“You mad I got more game than you or something?”

Robby laughs, “Is that what we’re calling it?”

#the pitt x reader #jack abbot x reader #dr jack abbot x reader #🐝 writes: the pitt #🐝 writes #all of the feedback is so so appreciated!! please continue it you feel inclined!#i have love love loved interacting with everyone as well!!!#my ask box is always open

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renthony · 11 months ago

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Nimona: a Story of Trans Rights, Queer Solidarity, and the Battle Against Censorship

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

The 2023 film Nimona, released on Netflix after a tumultuous development, is a triumph of queer art. While the basic plot follows a mischievous shapeshifter befriending a knight framed for murder, at its heart Nimona is a tale of queer survival in the face of bigotry and censorship. Though the word “transgender” is never spoken, the film is a deeply political narrative of trans empowerment.

The film is based on a comic of the same name, created by Eisner-winning artist N.D. Stevenson. (1) Originally a webcomic, Nimona stars the disgraced ex-knight Ballister Blackheart and his titular sidekick, teaming up to topple an oppressive regime known as the Institution. The webcomic was compiled into a graphic novel published by Harper Collins on May 12, 2015. (2)

On June 11, 2015, the Hollywood Reporter broke the news Fox Animation had acquired rights to the story. (3) A film adaptation would be directed by Patrick Osborne, written by Marc Haimes, and produced by Adam Stone. Two years later, on February 9, 2017, Osborne confirmed the film was being produced with the Fox-owned studio Blue Sky Animation, and on June 30 of that same year, he claimed the film would be released Valentine’s Day 2020. (4)

Then the Walt Disney Company made a huge mess.

On December 14, 2017, Disney announced the acquisition of Twenty-First Century Fox, Inc. (5) Industry publications began speculating the same day about Blue Sky’s fate, though nothing would be confirmed until after the deal’s completion on March 19, 2019. (6) At first it seemed the studio would continue producing films under Disney’s governance, similar to Disney-owned Pixar Animation. (7)

The fate of the studio—and Nimona’s film adaptation—remained in purgatory for two years. During that time, Patrick Osborne left over reported creative differences, and directorial duties were taken over by Nick Bruno and Troy Quane. (8) Bruno and Quane continued production on the film despite Blue Sky’s uncertain future.

The killing blow came on February 9, 2021. Disney shut down Blue Sky and canceled Nimona, the result of economic hardship caused by COVID-19. (9) Nimona was seventy-five percent completed at the time, set to star Chloë Grace Moretz and Riz Ahmed. (10)

While COVID-19 caused undeniable financial upheaval for the working class, wealthy Americans fared better. (11) Disney itself scraped together enough to pay CEO Bob Iger twenty-one million dollars in 2020 alone. (12) Additionally, demand for animation spiked during the pandemic’s early waves, and Nimona could have been the perfect solution to the studio’s supposed financial woes. (13) Why waste the opportunity to profit from Blue Sky’s hard work?

It didn’t take long for the answer to surface. Speaking anonymously to the press, Blue Sky workers revealed the awful truth: Disney may have killed Nimona for being too queer. The titular character was gender-nonconforming, the leading men were supposed to kiss, and Disney didn’t like it. (14) While Disney may claim COVID-19 as the cause, it is noteworthy that Disney representatives saw footage of two men declaring their love, and not long after, the studio responsible was dead. (15) Further damning evidence came in February of 2024, when the Hollywood Reporter published an article quoting co-director Nick Bruno, who named names: Disney’s chief creative officer at the time, Alan Horn, was adamantly opposed to the film’s “gay stuff.” (16)

Disney didn’t think queer art was worthy of their brand, and it isn’t the first time. “Not fitting the Disney brand” was the justification for canceling Dana Terrace’s 2020 animated series The Owl House, which featured multiple queer characters. (17) Though Terrace was reluctant to assume queerphobia caused the cancellation, Disney’s anti-queer bias has been cited as a hurdle by multiple showrunners, including Terrace herself. (18) The company’s resistance to queer art is a documented phenomenon.

While Nimona’s film cancellation could never take N.D. Stevenson’s comic from the world, it was a sting to lose such a powerful queer narrative on the silver screen. American film has a long history of censoring queerness. The Motion Picture Production Code (commonly called the Hays Code) censored queer stories for decades, including them under the umbrella of “sex perversion.” (19) Though the Code was eventually repealed, systemic bigotry turns even modern queer representation milestones into battles. In 2018, when Rebecca Sugar, creator of the Cartoon Network series Steven Universe, succeeded in portraying the first-ever same-sex marriage proposal in American children’s animation, the network canceled the show in retaliation. (20)

When queer art has to fight so hard just to exist, each loss is a bitter heartbreak. N.D. Stevenson himself expressed sorrow that the world would never see what Nimona’s crew worked so hard to achieve. (21)

Nimona, however, is hard to kill.

While fans mourned, progress continued behind the scenes. Instead of disappearing into the void as a tax write-off, the film was quietly scooped up by Megan Ellison of Annapurna Pictures. (22) Ellison received a call days before Disney’s death blow to Blue Sky, and after looking over storyboard reels, she decided to champion the film. With Ellison’s support, former Blue Sky heads Robert Baird and Andrew Millstein did their damnedest to find Nimona a home. (23)

Good news arrived on April 11, 2022, when N.D. Stevenson made a formal announcement on Twitter (now X): Nimona was gloriously alive, and would release on Netflix in 2023. (24) Netflix confirmed the news in its own press release, where it also provided details about the film’s updated cast and crew, including Eugene Lee Yang as Ambrosius Goldenloin alongside Riz Ahmed’s Ballister Boldheart (changed from the name Blackheart in the comic) and Chloë Grace Moretz as Nimona. (25) The film was no longer in purgatory, and grief over its death became anticipation for its release.

Nimona made her film debut in France, premiering at the Annecy International Animation Film Festival on June 14, 2023 to positive reviews. (26) Netflix released the film to streaming on June 30, finally completing the story’s arduous journey from page to screen. (27)

When the film begins, the audience is introduced to the world through a series of illustrated scrolls, evoking the storybook intros of Disney princess films such as 1959’s Sleeping Beauty. The storybook framing device has been used to parody Disney in the past, perhaps most famously in the 2001 Dreamworks film Shrek. Just as Shrek contains parodies of the Disney brand created by a Disney alumnus, so, too, does Nimona riff on the studio that snubbed it. (28)

Nimona’s storybook intro tells the story of Gloreth, a noble warrior woman clad in gold and white, who defended her people from a terrible monster. After slaying the beast, Gloreth established an order of knights called the Institute (changed from the Institution in the comic) to wall off the city and protect her people.

Right away, the film introduces a Christian dichotomy of good versus evil. Gloreth is presented as a Christlike figure, with the Institute’s knights standing in as her saints. (29) Her name is invoked like the Christian god, with characters uttering phrases such as “oh my Gloreth” and “Gloreth guide you.” The film’s design borrows heavily from Medieval Christian art and architecture, bolstering the metaphor.

Nimona takes place a thousand years after Gloreth’s victory. Following the opening narration, the audience is dropped into a setting combining Medieval aesthetics with futuristic science fiction, creating a sensory delight of neon splashed across knights in shining armor. It’s in this swords-and-cyborgs city that a new knight is set to join the illustrious ranks of Gloreth’s Institute, now under the control of a woman known only as the Director (voiced by Frances Conroy). That new knight is our protagonist, Ballister Boldheart.

The film changes several things from the original. The comic stars Lord Ballister Blackheart, notorious former knight, long after his fall from grace. He has battled the Institution for years, making a name for himself as a supervillain. The film introduces a younger Ballister Boldheart who is still loyal to the Institute, who believes in his dream of becoming a knight and overcomes great odds to prove himself worthy. In the comic, Blackheart’s greatest rival is Sir Ambrosius Goldenloin, with whom he has a messy past. The film shows more of that past, when Goldenloin and Boldheart were young lovers eager to become knights by each other’s side.

There is another notable change: in the comic, Goldenloin is white, and Blackheart is light-skinned. In the film, both characters are men of color—specifically, Boldheart is of Pakistani descent, and Goldenloin is of Korean descent, matching the ethnicity of their respective voice actors. This change adds new themes of institutional racism, colorism, and the “model minority” stereotype. (30)

The lighter-skinned Goldenloin is, as his name suggests, the Institute’s golden boy. He descends from the noble lineage of Gloreth herself, and his face is emblazoned on posters and news screens across the city. He is referred to as “the most anticipated knight of a generation.” In contrast, the darker-skinned Boldheart experiences prejudice and hazing due to his lower-class background. His social status is openly discussed in the news. He is called a “street kid” and “controversial,” despite being the top student in his class. The newscasters make sure everyone knows he was only given the chance to prove himself in the Institute because the queen, a Black woman with established social influence, gave him her personal patronage. Despite this patronage, when the news interviews citizens on the street, public opinion is firmly against Boldheart.

To preserve the comic’s commentary on white privilege, some of Goldenloin’s traits were written into a new, white character created for the film, Sir Thoddeus Sureblade (voiced by Beck Bennett). Sureblade’s vitriol against both Boldheart and Goldenloin allowed Goldenloin to become a more sympathetic character, trapped in the system just as much as Boldheart. (31) This is emphasized at other points in the film when the audience sees Sureblade interact with Goldenloin without Boldheart present, berating the only person of color left in the absence of the darker-skinned man.

The day Boldheart is to be knighted, everything goes wrong. As Queen Valerin (voiced by Lorraine Toussaint) performs the much-anticipated knighting ceremony, a device embedded in Boldheart’s sword explodes, killing her instantly. Though Boldheart is not to blame, he is dubbed an assassin instead of a knight. In an instant, he becomes the most wanted man in the kingdom, and Queen Valerin’s hopes for progress and social equality seem dead with her. Boldheart is gravely injured in the explosion and forced to flee, unable to clear his name.

Enter Nimona.

The audience meets the titular character in the act of vandalizing a poster of Gloreth, only to get distracted by an urgent broadcast on a nearby screen. As she approaches, a bystander yells that she’s a “freak,” in a manner reminiscent of slurs screamed by passing bigots. Nimona has no time for bigots, spraying this one in the face with paint before tuning in to the news.

“Everyone is scared,” declare the newscasters, because queen-killer Ballister Boldheart is on the run. The media paints him as a monster, a filthy commoner who never deserved the chances he was given, and announce that, “never since Gloreth’s monster has anything been so hated.” This characterization pleases Nimona, and she declares him “perfect” before scampering off to find his hiding place.

It takes the span of a title screen for her to track him down, sequestered in a makeshift junkyard shelter. Just before Nimona bursts into the lair, the audience sees Boldheart’s injuries have resulted in the amputation of his arm, and he is building a homemade prosthetic. This is another way he’s been othered from his peers in an instant, forced to adapt to life-changing circumstances with no support. Where he was so recently an aspiring knight with a partner and a dream, he is now homeless, disabled, and isolated.

A wall in the hideout shows a collection of news clippings, suspects, and sticky notes where Boldheart is trying to solve the murder and clear his name. His own photo looks down from the wall, captioned with a damning headline: “He was never one of us—knights reveal shocking details of killer’s past.” It evokes real-world racial bias in crime reporting, where suspects of color are treated as more violent, unstable, and prone to crime than white suspects. A 2021 report by the Equal Justice Initiative and the Global Strategy Group compiled data on this phenomenon, focusing on the stark disparity between coverage of white and Black suspects. (32)

Nimona is not put off by Boldheart’s sinister media reputation. It’s why she tracked him down in the first place. She’s arrived to present her official application as Boldheart’s villain sidekick and help him take down the Institute. Boldheart brushes her off, insisting he isn’t a villain. He has faith in his innocence and in the system, and leaves Nimona behind to clear his name.

When he is immediately arrested, stripped of his prosthetic, and jailed, Nimona doesn’t abandon him. She springs a prison break, and conveys a piece of bitter wisdom to the fallen knight: “[O]nce everyone sees you as a villain, that’s what you are. They only see you one way, no matter how hard you try.”

Nimona and Boldheart are both outcasts, but they are at different stages of processing the pain. Boldheart is deep in the grief of someone who tried to adhere to the demands of a biased system but finally failed. He is the newly cast-out, who gave his entire life to the system but still couldn’t escape dehumanization. His pain is a fresh, raw wound, where Nimona has old scars. She embodies the deep anger of those who have existed on the margins for years. Where Boldheart wants to prove his innocence so he can be re-accepted into the fold, Nimona’s goal is to tear the entire system apart. She finds instant solidarity with Boldheart based solely on their mutual status as outsiders, but Boldheart resists that solidarity because he still craves the system’s familiar structure.

In the comic, Blackheart’s stance is not one of fresh grief, since, just like Nimona, he has been an outsider for some time. Instead, Blackheart’s position is one of slow reform. He believes the system can be changed and improved, while Nimona urges him to demolish it entirely. In both versions, Ballister thinks the system can be fixed by removing specific corrupt influences, where Nimona believes the government is rotten to its foundations and should be dismantled. Despite their ideological differences, Nimona and Ballister ally to survive the Institute’s hostility.

The allyship is an uneasy truce. During the prison break, Nimona reveals that she’s a shapeshifter, able to change into whatever form she pleases. Boldheart reflexively reaches for his sword, horrified that she isn’t human. She is the exact sort of monster he has been taught to fear by the Institute, and it’s only because he needs her help that he overcomes his reflex and sticks with her.

Nimona’s shapeshifting functions as a transgender allegory. The comic’s author, N.D. Stevenson, is transgender, and Nimona’s story developed alongside his own queer journey. (33) The trans themes from the comic are emphasized in the film, with various pride flags included in backgrounds and showcased in the art book. (34) Directors Bruno and Quane described the film as “a story about acceptance. A movie about being seen for who you truly are and a love letter to all those who’ve ever shared that universal feeling of being misunderstood or like an outsider trying to fit in.” (35)

When Boldheart asks Nimona what she is, she responds with only “Nimona.” When he calls her a girl, she retorts that she’s “a lot of things.” When she transforms into another species, she specifies in that moment that she’s “not a girl, I’m a shark.” Later, when she takes the form of a young boy and Boldheart comments on it, saying “now you’re a boy,” her response is, “I am today.” She defies easy categorization, and she likes it that way.

About her shapeshifting, Nimona says “it feels worse if I don’t do it” and “I shapeshift, then I’m free.” When asked what happens if she doesn’t shapeshift, she responds, “I wouldn’t die-die, I just sure wouldn’t be living.” Every time she discusses her transformations, it carries echoes of transgender experience—and, as it happens, Nimona is not N.D. Stevenson’s only shapeshifting transgender character. During his tenure as showrunner for She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (Netflix/Dreamworks, 2018-2020), Stevenson introduced the character Double Trouble. Double Trouble previously existed at the margins of She-Ra lore, but Stevenson’s version was a nonbinary shapeshifter using they/them pronouns. (36) While Nimona uses she/her pronouns throughout both comic and film, just like Double Trouble her gender presentation is as fluid as her physical form.

Boldheart, like many cisgender people reacting to transgender people, is uncomfortable with Nimona. He declares her way of doing things “too much,” and insists they try to be “inconspicuous” and “discreet.” He worries whether others saw her, and, when she is casually in a nonhuman form, he asks if she can “be normal for a second.” He claims to support her, but says it would be “easier if she was a girl” because “other people aren’t as accepting.” His discomfort evokes fumbled allyship by cisgender people, and Nimona emphasizes the allegory by calling Boldheart out for his “small-minded questions.” While the alliance is uneasy, Boldheart continues working with Nimona to clear his name. They are the only allies each other has, and their individual survival is dependent on them working together.

When the duo gain video proof of Boldheart’s innocence, they learn the bomb that killed Queen Valerin was planted by the Director. Threatened by a Black woman using her influence to elevate a poor, queer man of color, the white Director chose to preserve the status quo through violence.

Nimona is eager to get the video on every screen in the city, but Boldheart wants to deal with the issue internally, out of the public eye. He insists “the Institute isn’t the problem, the Director is.” This belief is what also leads the comic’s Blackheart to reject Nimona’s idea that he should crown himself king. He is focused on reforming the existing power structure, neither removing it entirely nor taking it over himself.

Inside the Institute, the Director has been doing her best to set Goldenloin against his former partner. Despite his internal misgivings and fear of betraying someone he loves, Goldenloin does his best to adhere to his prescribed role. As the Director reminds the knights, they are literally born to defend the kingdom, and it’s their sacred duty to do so—especially Goldenloin, who carries Gloreth’s holy blood. This blood connection is repeated throughout the film, and used by the Director to exploit Goldenloin. He’s the Institute’s token minority, put on a gilded pedestal and treated as a symbol instead of a human being.

Goldenloin is a pretty face for propaganda posters, and those posters can be seen throughout the film. They proclaim Gloreth’s majesty, the power of the knights, and remind civilians that the Institute is necessary to “protect our way of life.” A subway PSA urges citizens, “if you see something, slay something,” in a direct parody of the real-world “if you see something, say something” campaign by the United States Department of Homeland Security. (37)

The film is not subtle in its political messaging. When Boldheart attempts to prove his innocence to Goldenloin and the assembled knights, he reaches towards his pocket for a phone. The Director cries that Boldheart has a weapon, and Sureblade opens fire. Though the shot hits the phone and not Boldheart, it carries echoes of real-world police brutality against people of color. Specifically, the use of a phone evokes cases such as the 2018 murder of Stephon Clark, a young Black man who was shot and killed by California police claiming Clark’s cell phone was a firearm. (38) The film does not toy with vague, depoliticized themes of coexistence and tolerance; it is a direct and pointed allegory for contemporary oppression in the United States of America.

Forced to choose between love for Boldheart and loyalty to the Institute, Goldenloin chooses the Institute. He calls for Boldheart’s arrest, and this is the moment Boldheart finally agrees to fight back and raise hell alongside Nimona. When Goldenloin calls Nimona a monster during the ensuing battle, Boldheart doesn’t hesitate to refute it. He expresses his trust in her, and it’s clear he means it. He’s been betrayed by someone he cared about and thought he could depend on, and this puts him in true solidarity with Nimona for the first time.

During the fight, Nimona stops a car from crashing into a small child. She shapeshifts into a young girl to appear less threatening, but it doesn’t work. The child picks up a sword, pointing it at Nimona until an adult pulls them away to hide. When Nimona sees this hatred imprinted in the heart of a child, it horrifies her.

After fleeing to their hideout, Nimona makes a confession to Boldheart: she has suicidal ideations. So many people have directed so much hatred toward her that sometimes she wants to give in and let them kill her. In the real world, a month after the film’s release, a study from the Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law compiled data about suicidality in American transgender adults. (39) Researchers found that eighty-one percent have thought about suicide, compared to just thirty-five percent of cisgender adults. Forty-two percent have attempted suicide, compared to eleven percent of cisgender adults. Fifty-six percent have engaged in self-harm, compared to twelve percent of cisgender adults.

When Boldheart offers to flee with her and find somewhere safe together, Nimona declares they shouldn’t have to run. She makes the decision every trans person living in a hostile place must make: do I leave and save myself, or do I stay to fight for my community? The year the film was released, the Trans Legislation Tracker reported a record-breaking amount of anti-trans legislation in the United States, with six hundred and two bills introduced throughout twenty-four states. (40) In February 2024, the National Center for Transgender Equality published data on their 2022 U.S. Transgender Survey, revealing that forty-seven percent of respondents thought about moving to another area due to discrimination, with ten percent actually doing so. (41)

Despite the danger, Nimona and Boldheart work diligently against the Institute. When they gain fresh footage proving the Director’s guilt, they don’t hesitate to upload it online, where it garners rapid attention across social and news media. Newscasters begin asking who the real villain is, anti-Institute sentiment builds, and citizens protest in the streets, demanding answers. The power that social media adds to social justice activism is true in the real world as it is in the film, seen in campaigns such as the viral #MeToo hashtag and the Black Lives Matter movement. (42) In 2020, polls conducted by the Pew Research Center showed eight in ten Americans viewed social media platforms as either very or somewhat effective in raising awareness about political and social topics. In the same survey, seventy-seven percent of respondents believed social media is at least somewhat effective in organizing social movements. (43)

In reaction to the media firestorm, the Director issues a statement. She outs Nimona as a shapeshifter, and claims the evidence against the Institute is a hoax. Believing the Director, Goldenloin contacts Boldheart for a rendezvous, sans Nimona. From Goldenloin’s perspective, Boldheart is a good man who has been deceived by the real villain, Nimona. He tells Boldheart about a scroll the Director found, with evidence that Nimona is Gloreth’s original monster, still alive and terrorizing the city. Goldenloin wants to bring Boldheart back into the knighthood and resume their relationship, and though that’s what Boldheart wanted before, his solidarity with Nimona causes him to reject the offer.

Though he leaves Goldenloin behind, Boldheart’s suspicion of Nimona returns. Despite their solidarity, he doesn’t really know her, so he returns home to interrogate her. In the ensuing argument, he reverts to calling her a monster, but only through implication—he won’t say the word. Like a slur, he knows he shouldn’t say it anymore, but that doesn’t keep him from believing it.

Boldheart’s actions prove to Nimona that nowhere is safe. There is no haven. Her community will always turn on her. She flees, and in her ensuing breakdown, the audience learns her backstory. She was alone for an unspecified length of time, never able to fit in until meeting Gloreth as a little girl. Nimona presents herself to Gloreth as another little girl, and Gloreth becomes Nimona’s very first friend. Even when Nimona shapeshifts, Gloreth treats her with kindness and love.

Then the adults of Gloreth’s village see Nimona shapeshift, and the word “monster” is hurled. Torches and pitchforks come out. At the adults’ panic, Gloreth takes up a sword against Nimona, and the cycle of bigotry is transferred to the next generation. The friendship shatters, and Nimona must flee before she can be killed.

After losing Boldheart, seemingly Nimona’s only ally since Gloreth’s betrayal, Nimona’s grief becomes insurmountable. She knows in her heart that nothing will ever change. She’s been hurt too much, by too many, cutting too deeply. To Nimona, the world will only ever bring her pain, so she gives in. She transforms into the giant, ferocious monster everyone has always told her she is, and she begins moving through the city as the Institute opens fire.

When Ballister sees Nimona’s giant, shadowy form, he realizes the horrific pain he caused her. He intuits that Nimona isn’t causing destruction for fun, she’s on a suicide march. She’s given up, and her decision is the result of endless, systemic bigotry and betrayal of trust. Her rampage wouldn’t be happening if she’d been treated with love, support, and care.

Nimona’s previous admission of suicidal ideation repeats in voiceover as she prepares to impale herself on a sword pointed by a massive statue of Gloreth. Her suicide is only prevented because Ballister steps in, calling to her, apologizing, saying he sees her and she isn’t alone. She collapses into his arms, once again in human form, sobbing. Boldheart has finally accepted her truth, and she is safe with him.

But she isn’t safe from the Director.

In a genocidal bid she knows will take out countless civilian lives, the Director orders canons fired on Nimona. Goldenloin tries to stop her, finally standing up against the system, but it’s too late. The Director fires the canons, Nimona throws herself at the blast to protect the civilians, and Nimona falls.

When the dust settles, the Director is deposed and the city rebuilds. Boldheart and Goldenloin reconnect and resume their relationship. The walls around the city come down, reforms take hold in the Institute, and a memorial goes up to honor Nimona, the hero who sacrificed her life to reveal the Director’s corruption.

Nimona, however, is hard to kill.

Nimona originally had a tragic ending, born of N.D. Stevenson’s own depression, but that hopelessness didn’t last forever. (44) Though Nimona is defeated, she doesn’t stay dead. Through the outpouring of love and support N.D. Stevenson received while creating the original webcomic, he gained the community and support he needed to create a more hopeful ending for Nimona’s story—and himself.

The comic’s ending is bittersweet. Nimona can’t truly die, and eventually restores herself. She allows Blackheart to glimpse her, so he knows she survived, but she doesn’t stay. She still doesn’t feel safe, and is assumed to move on somewhere new. Blackheart never sees Nimona again.

The film’s ending is more hopeful. There is a shimmer of pink magic as Nimona announces her survival, and the film ends with Boldheart’s elated exclamation. Even death couldn’t keep her down. She survived Gloreth, and she survived the Director. Though this chapter of the story is over, there is hope on the horizon, and she has allies on her side.

In both incarnations, Nimona is a story of queer survival in a cruel world. The original ending was one of despair, that said there was little hope of true solidarity and allyship. The revised ending said there was hope, but still so far to go. The film’s ending says there is hope, there is solidarity, and there are people who will stand with transgender people until the bitter end—but, more importantly, there are people in the world who want trans people to live, to thrive, and to find joy.

In a world that’s so hostile to transgender people, it’s no wonder a radically trans-positive film had to fight so hard to exist. Unfortunately, the battle must continue. As of June 2024, Netflix hasn’t announced any intent to produce physical copies of the film, meaning it exists solely on streaming and is only accessible via a monthly paid subscription. Should Netflix ever take down its original animation, as HBO Max did in 2022 despite massive backlash, the film could easily become lost media. (45) Though it saved Nimona from Disney, Netflix has its own nasty history of under-marketing and canceling queer programs. (46)

The film’s art book is already gone. The multimedia tome was posted online on October 12, 2023, hosted at ArtofNimona.com. (47) Per the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine, the site became a Netflix redirect at some point between 10:26 PM on March 9, 2024 and 9:35 PM on March 20, 2024. (48) On the archived site, some multimedia elements are non-functional, potentially making them lost media. The art book is not available through any legal source, and though production designer Aidan Sugano desperately wants a physical copy made, there seem to be no such plans. (49)

Perhaps Netflix will eventually release physical copies of both film and art book. Perhaps not. Time will tell. In the meantime, Nimona stands as a triumph of queer media in a queerphobic world. That it exists at all is a miracle, and that its accessibility is so precarious a year after release is a travesty. Contemporary political commentary is woven into every aspect of the film, and it exists thanks to the passion, talent, and bravery of an incredible crew who endured despite blatant corporate queerphobia.

Long live Nimona, and long live the transgender community she represents.

_ This piece was commissioned using the prompt "the Nimona movie."

Updated 6/16/24 to revise an inaccurate statement regarding the original comic.

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Notes:

1. “Past Recipients 2010s.” n.d. Comic-Con International. Accessed June 10, 2024. https://www.comic-con.org/awards/eisner-awards/past-recipients/past-recipenties-2010s/.

2. Stevenson, ND. 2015. Nimona. New York, NY: Harperteen.

3. Kit, Borys. 2015. “Fox Animation Nabs ‘Nimona’ Adaptation with ‘Feast’ Director (Exclusive).” The Hollywood Reporter. June 11, 2015. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/fox-animation-nabs-nimona-adaptation-801920/.

4. Riley, Jenelle. 2017. “Oscar Winner Patrick Osborne Returns with First-Ever vr Nominee ‘Pearl.’” Variety. February 9, 2017. https://variety.com/2017/film/in-contention/patrick-osborne-returns-to-race-with-first-vr-nominee-pearl-1201983466/; Osborne, Patrick (@PatrickTOsborne). 2017. "Hey world, the NIMONA feature film has a release date! @Gingerhazing February 14th 2020 !!" Twitter/X, June 30, 2017, 3:16 PM. https://x.com/PatrickTOsborne/status/880867591094272000. ‌

5. “The Walt Disney Company to Acquire Twenty-First Century Fox, Inc., after Spinoff of Certain Businesses, for $52.4 Billion in Stock.” 2017. The Walt Disney Company. December 14, 2017. https://thewaltdisneycompany.com/walt-disney-company-acquire-twenty-first-century-fox-inc-spinoff-certain-businesses-52-4-billion-stock-2/.

6. Amidi, Amid. 2017. “Disney Buys Fox for $52.4 Billion: Here Are the Key Points of the Deal.” Cartoon Brew. December 14, 2017. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/business/disney-buys-fox-key-points-deal-155390.html; Giardina, Carolyn. 2017. “Disney Deal Could Redraw Fox’s Animation Business.” The Hollywood Reporter. December 14, 2017. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/general-news/disney-deal-could-redraw-foxs-animation-business-1068040/; Szalai, Georg, and Paul Bond. 2019. “Disney Closes $71.3 Billion Fox Deal, Creating Global Content Powerhouse.” The Hollywood Reporter. March 19, 2019. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/news/general-news/disney-closes-fox-deal-creating-global-content-powerhouse-1174498/.

7. Hipes, Patrick. 2019. “After Trying Day, Disney Sets Film Leadership Lineup.” Deadline. March 22, 2019. https://deadline.com/2019/03/disney-film-executives-post-merger-team-set-1202580586/.

8. Jones, Rendy. 2023. “‘Nimona’: Netflix’s Remarkable Trans-Rights Animated Movie Is Here.” Rolling Stone. July 3, 2023. https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/nimona-netflix-trans-rights-animated-movie-lgbtq-riz-ahmed-chloe-grace-moretz-1234782583/.

9. D’Alessandro, Anthony. 2021. “Disney Closing Blue Sky Studios, Fox’s Once-Dominant Animation House behind ‘Ice Age’ Franchise.” Deadline. February 9, 2021. https://deadline.com/2021/02/blue-sky-studios-closing-disney-ice-age-franchise-animation-1234690310/.

10. “Disney’s Blue Sky Shut down Leaves Nimona Film 75% Completed.” 2021. CBR. February 10, 2021. https://www.cbr.com/nimona-film-abandoned-disney-blue-sky-shut-down/; Sneider, Jeff. 2021. “Exclusive: Disney’s LGBTQ-Themed ‘Nimona’ Would’ve Featured the Voices of Chloë Grace Moretz, Riz Ahmed.” Collider. March 4, 2021. https://collider.com/nimona-movie-cast-cancelled-disney-blue-sky/.

11. Horowitz, Juliana Menasce, Anna Brown, and Rachel Minkin. 2021. “The COVID-19 Pandemic’s Long-Term Financial Impact.” Pew Research Center’s Social & Demographic Trends Project. March 5, 2021. https://www.pewresearch.org/social-trends/2021/03/05/a-year-into-the-pandemic-long-term-financial-impact-weighs-heavily-on-many-americans/.

12. Lang, Brent. 2022. “Disney CEO Bob Iger’s Rich Compensation Package Revealed, Company Says Bob Chapek Fired ‘without Cause.’” Variety. November 21, 2022. https://variety.com/2022/film/finance/bob-iger-compensation-package-salary-bob-chapek-fired-1235439151/.

13. Romano, Nick. 2020. “The Pandemic Animation Boom: How Cartoons Became King in the Time of COVID.” EW.com. November 2, 2020. https://ew.com/movies/animation-boom-coronavirus-pandemic/.

14. Strapagiel, Lauren. 2021. “The Future of Disney’s First Animated Feature Film with Queer Leads, ‘Nimona,’ Is in Doubt.” BuzzFeed News. February 24, 2021. https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/laurenstrapagiel/disney-nimona-movie-lgbtq-characters.

15. Clark, Travis. 2022. “Disney Raised Concerns about a Same-Sex Kiss in the Unreleased Animated Movie ‘Nimona,’ Former Blue Sky Staffers Say.” Business Insider. https://www.businessinsider.com/disney-disapproved-same-sex-kiss-nimona-movie-former-staffers-say-2022-3.

16. Keegan, Rebecca. 2024. “Why Megan Ellison Saved ‘Nimona’: ‘I Needed This Movie.’” The Hollywood Reporter. February 22, 2024. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/megan-ellison-saved-nimona-1235832043/.

17. St. James, Emily. 2023. “Mourning the Loss of the Owl House, TV’s Best Queer Kids Show.” Vanity Fair. April 6, 2023. https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2023/04/loss-of-the-owl-house-tvs-best-queer-kids-show.

18. AntagonistDana. 2021. “AMA (except by ‘Anything’ I Mean These Questions Only).” Reddit. October 5, 2021. https://www.reddit.com/r/TheOwlHouse/comments/q1x1uh/ama_except_by_anything_i_mean_these_questions_only/; de Wit, Alex Dudok. 2020. “Disney Executive Tried to Block Queer Characters in ‘the Owl House,’ Says Creator.” 2020. Cartoon Brew. August 14, 2020. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/disney/disney-executives-tried-to-block-queer-characters-in-the-owl-house-says-creator-195413.html.

19. Doherty, Thomas. 1999. Pre-Code Hollywood : Sex, Immorality, and Insurrection in American Cinema, 1930-1934. New York: Columbia University Press. 363.

20. Henderson, Taylor. 2018. “‘Steven Universe’s’ Latest Episode Just Made LGBTQ History.” Pride. July 5, 2018. https://www.pride.com/stevenuniverse/2018/7/05/steven-universes-latest-episode-just-made-lgbtq-history; McDonnell, Chris. 2020. Steven Universe: End of an Era. New York: Abrams. 102.

21. Stevenson, ND. (@Gingerhazing). 2021. "Sad day. Thanks for the well wishes, and sending so much love to everyone at Blue Sky. Forever grateful for all the care and joy you poured into Nimona." Twitter/X, February 9, 2021, 3:32 PM. https://x.com/Gingerhazing/status/1359238823935283200

22. Jones, Rendy. 2023. “‘Nimona’: Netflix’s Remarkable Trans-Rights Animated Movie Is Here.” Rolling Stone. July 3, 2023. https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/nimona-netflix-trans-rights-animated-movie-lgbtq-riz-ahmed-chloe-grace-moretz-1234782583/.

23. Keegan, Rebecca. 2024. “Why Megan Ellison Saved ‘Nimona’: ‘I Needed This Movie.’” The Hollywood Reporter. February 22, 2024. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-news/megan-ellison-saved-nimona-1235832043/.

24. Stevenson, ND. (@Gingerhazing). 2022. "Nimona’s always been a spunky little story that just wouldn’t stop. She’s a fighter...but she’s also got some really awesome people fighting for her. I am excited out of my mind to announce that THE NIMONA MOVIE IS ALIVE...coming at you in 2023 from Annapurna and Netflix." Twitter/X, April 11, 2022, 10:00 AM. https://x.com/Gingerhazing/status/1513517319841935363.

25. “‘Nimona’ Starring Chloë Grace Moretz, Riz Ahmed & Eugene Lee Yang Coming to Netflix in 2023.” About Netflix. April 11, 2022. https://about.netflix.com/en/news/nimona-starring-chloe-grace-moretz-riz-ahmed-and-eugene-lee-yang-coming-to-netflix.

26. “’Nimona’ Rates 100% on Rotten Tomatoes after Annecy Premiere.” Animation Magazine. June 15, 2023. https://www.animationmagazine.net/2023/06/nimona-rates-100-on-rotten-tomatoes-after-annecy-premiere/

27. Dilillo, John. 2023. “’Nimona’: Everything You Need to Know About the New Animated Adventure.” Tudum by Netflix. June 30, 2023. https://www.netflix.com/tudum/articles/nimona-release-date-news-photos

28. Reese, Lori. 2001. “Is ‘“Shrek”’ the Anti- Disney Fairy Tale?” Entertainment Weekly. May 29, 2001. https://ew.com/article/2001/05/29/shrek-anti-disney-fairy-tale/.

29. Sugano, Aidan. 2023. Nimona: the Digital Art Book. Netflix. 255. https://web.archive.org/web/20240309222607/https://artofnimona.com/.

30. White, Abbey. 2023. “How ‘Nimona’ Explores the Model Minority Stereotype through Its Queer API Love Story.” The Hollywood Reporter. July 1, 2023. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/nimona-eugene-lee-yang-directors-race-love-story-netflix-1235526714/.

31. White, Abbey. 2023. “How ‘Nimona’ Explores the Model Minority Stereotype through Its Queer API Love Story.” The Hollywood Reporter. July 1, 2023. https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/nimona-eugene-lee-yang-directors-race-love-story-netflix-1235526714/.

32. Equal Justice Initiative. 2021. “Report Documents Racial Bias in Coverage of Crime by Media.” Equal Justice Initiative. December 16, 2021. https://eji.org/news/report-documents-racial-bias-in-coverage-of-crime-by-media/.

33. Stevenson, N. D. 2023. “Nimona (the Comic): A Deep Dive.” I’m Fine I’m Fine Just Understand. July 13, 2023. https://www.imfineimfine.com/p/nimona-the-comic-a-deep-dive.

34. Sugano, Aidan. 2023. Nimona: the Digital Art Book. Netflix. 259-260. https://web.archive.org/web/20240309222607/https://artofnimona.com/.

35. Sugano, Aidan. 2023. Nimona: the Digital Art Book. Netflix. 7. https://web.archive.org/web/20240309222607/https://artofnimona.com/.

36. Brown, Tracy. 2019. “In Netflix’s ‘She-Ra,’ Even Villains Respect Nonbinary Pronouns.” Los Angeles Times. November 6, 2019. https://www.latimes.com/entertainment-arts/tv/story/2019-11-05/netflix-she-ra-princesses-power-nonbinary-double-trouble.

37. Department of Homeland Security. 2019. “If You See Something, Say Something®.” Department of Homeland Security. May 10, 2019. https://www.dhs.gov/see-something-say-something.

38. University of Stanford. n.d. “Stephon Clark.” Say Their Names - Spotlight at Stanford. https://exhibits.stanford.edu/saytheirnames/feature/stephon-clark.

39. Kidd, Jeremy D., Tettamanti, Nicky A., Kaczmarkiewicz, Roma, Corbeil, Thomas E., Dworkin, Jordan D., Jackman, Kasey B., Hughes, Tonda L., Bockting, Walter O., & Meyer, Ilan H. 2023. “Prevalence of Substance Use and Mental Health Problems among Transgender and Cisgender US Adults.” Williams Institute. https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/publications/transpop-substance-use/.

40. “2023 Anti-Trans Bills: Trans Legislation Tracker.” n.d. Trans Legislation Tracker. https://translegislation.com/bills/2023.

41. James, S.E., Herman, J.L., Durso, L.E., & Heng-Lehtinen, R. 2024. “Early Insights: A Report of the 2022 U.S. Transgender Survey.” National Center for Transgender Equality, Washington, DC.

42. Myers, Catherine. 2023. “Protests in the Age of Social Media.” The Nonviolence Project. February 11, 2023. https://thenonviolenceproject.wisc.edu/2023/02/11/protests-in-the-age-of-social-media/.

43. Auxier, Brooke, and Colleen McClain. 2020. “Americans Think Social Media Can Help Build Movements, but Can Also Be a Distraction.” Pew Research Center. Pew Research Center. September 9, 2020. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2020/09/09/americans-think-social-media-can-help-build-movements-but-can-also-be-a-distraction/.

44. Stevenson, N. D. 2023. “Nimona (the Comic): A Deep Dive.” I’m Fine I’m Fine Just Understand. July 13, 2023. https://www.imfineimfine.com/p/nimona-the-comic-a-deep-dive.

45. Chapman, Wilson. 2022. “HBO Max to Remove 36 Titles, Including 20 Originals, from Streaming.” Variety. August 18, 2022. https://variety.com/2022/tv/news/hbo-max-originals-removed-1235344286/.

46. Iftikhar, Asyia. 2023. “Netflix CEO Slammed by LGBTQ+ Fans over Cancellation Comments: ‘They Are NOT Allies.’” PinkNews. January 24, 2023. https://www.thepinknews.com/2023/01/24/netflix-ceo-ted-sarandos-cancelled-shows-lgbtq-fans-reactions/.

47. Lang, Jamie. 2023. “Netflix Has Released a 358-Page Multimedia Art of Book for ‘Nimona’ - Exclusive.” Cartoon Brew. October 12, 2023. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/books/nimona-art-of-book-aidan-sugano-netflix-233636.html.

48. “Wayback Machine.” n.d. The Internet Archive. Accessed June 10, 2024. https://wayback-api.archive.org/web/20240000000000.

49. Lang, Jamie. 2023. “Netflix Has Released a 358-Page Multimedia Art of Book for ‘Nimona’ - Exclusive.” Cartoon Brew. October 12, 2023. https://www.cartoonbrew.com/books/nimona-art-of-book-aidan-sugano-netflix-233636.html.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 months ago

Text

Mrs. R Part Three

Part Two | Part Four

Notes: Not beta-read.

Warnings: This...Got a lot more angsty than I meant it to. Whoops.

Summary: Robby had sent a 💡 text two days ago—his new shorthand to ask if he could come over. You'd declined, cited previous plans, and proposed tonight instead.

So here he is, and there you are with your head full of muddled feelings and unasked questions.

"I don't know what changed, and I don't know how you did it, but he seems better."

You want to tell her that it isn't you—that you haven't seen Robby since you went to the ER, that whatever's changed about him, you had nothing to do with it—but that would be a bold-faced lie.

Though, at moments, you don't think that you have had much to do with the shift in his mood. But over the last few weeks, he's seemed a little lighter. It's been noticeable to you.

And, apparently, it's been noticeable to Dana.

She wouldn't accept the lie, anyway—you can see that in the way she grins at you over her pint of beer, daring you to disagree.

So you just shrug and offer, "Sometimes he just needs someone to talk to—outside of work, you know."

"So he is telling you about work?"

"God no, I don't think he'd ever..." You trail off, mind dipping dangerously into the past. He used to. A long time ago, he'd come home with tired but warm smiles, with a funny story from his shift on the tip of his tongue, chasing the kisses that he showered you with the second he was in the door. But the pandemic, Adamson, the dwindling staff, the slammed ER, the administration, the occasional rat—it's a constant, Sisyphean uphill push for all of them.

You clear your throat, shaking your head. "I mean, sometimes he needs to talk about something that isn't that. I used to think talking about work when he was home would help him process it, but maybe he needs a bubble to shut that part of his mind off. I don't know, it's weird," Your brow furrows. "I feel like I understand him so much more now that we aren't married."

"Speaking of which."

"Mm?"

"What's with the name?"

You take a long sip, biding as much time as you can as heat rushes your face.

"Name?" You do your best to play dumb, but Dana's laugh tells you that she isn't buying it for a damn second.

"Yeah, Mrs. Robinavitch, the name."

You let your eyes scan the bustling bar around you, unable to take the knowing way that Dana watches you.

"You don't have to call me that, you know."

"Oh yeah? What should I call you?"

"Gee, I don't know Dana," You lean into it. "Maybe my first name?"

"Doesn't make you squirm like your last name does. Come on," She chuckles again, "It's been almost a year. What gives?"

You consider, eyeing the chipped wood grain of the table.

"Honestly?"

"Uh-huh."

"Cone of silence?"

"Cross my heart."

"...I can't..." You struggle for the words as your feelings flood into your chest, making each breath feel heavy. Your sweating palms flex, nails pressing into your skin, prickling the still-raised scar on your dominant hand.

"It just feels like giving up on us. On him. And I know that sounds so stupid, we're divorced, but letting go of his name feels like letting go, really letting go of all of it, all of the good stuff, and lately things feel..." You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut against the embarrassment. "It's like the door isn't completely closed. Like he's opening up to me again, and if I change it now, it's like I'll—Jinx it? Or—?" You groan, tipping your head back and scrubbing at your eyes with the heels of your palms. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

Dana doesn't answer, and when you finally get a good look at her again, you just find a warm, soft smile there.

"Oh, sweetie," She shakes her head. "There's nothing wrong with hope."

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and push back the swell of tears that threaten to spill over.

"Goddamnit," You laugh shakily. "How much would I have to pay you to quit the hospital and just run my life full-time?"

"You couldn't afford me."

"You're quiet."

It isn't accusatory, you don't think, but it's paired with a speculative little glance across the kitchen able that makes you want to fold into yourself and disappear.

"Just following your example." You manage to make it a tease, and when Robby's lips tip up in a small smile, you feel the relief of knowing that you hit the mark. He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head and turning back to his food.

You should've sorted this morose shit out before he turned up. You'd known that he was planning on stopping by.

He'd sent a 💡 text two days ago—his new shorthand to ask if he could come over. You'd declined, cited previous plans, and proposed tonight instead.

So here he is, and there you are with your head full of muddled feelings and unasked questions.

You haven't been able to stop thinking about your conversation with Dana. The fact that you let your truth hit the air for the first time since the divorce, to admit not only to yourself but to someone else that you're hopeful that your relationship with Michael could still change—that you're still holding on to the likely misguided belief that one of you or both of you will come back together with the understanding that this whole divorce was one big, stupid, expensive mistake—

"What'd you get up to the other night?"

"Hmm?"

"When I wanted to come by."

You shrug, reach over and pluck a fry up off of his plate. "Just some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Well clearly nothing that landed me back in the ER."

"That leaves a lot of possibilities."

You pop the fry into your mouth, take your time chewing, and raise your brows when he dips his head a touch, catching and holding your gaze.

"Come on," He plies, "Gimme a hint."

"Why does it matter?"

"Doesn't."

"Why do you care?"

"...I don't."

And you may've bought that—if he hadn't hesitated. Your eyes narrow a touch, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"Well what do you think I was doing, Dr. Robinavitch?"

"Any number of things, Mrs. Robinavitch."

And you know that he doesn't mean to break it, this light and delicious mood, but goddamn did he pop your balloon. The words make your stomach lurch. You hurriedly push yourself up from the table, avoiding his eye and rounding to the fridge.

"You want another beer?" You ask, and force yourself to keep your eyes on the fridge's contents when he doesn't answer right away.

"Haven't finished my first one," He finally says, and you nod a bit, pulling one out for yourself and cracking it open. You lean against the counter, toying with the pull tab.

"You have a date?"

It feels almost like a trap of a question, and you know that you'd be wise to answer quickly, but his tease is still ringing through your ears.

"You can tell me if you did," He tacks on, "Not like we're—"

"No, I know."

"So—?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Why not? You're single, you're gorgeous—"

"Okay—"

"—More skilled at evading questions than an ex-KGB agent."

"CIA, please."

"It'd be fine if you were. You're free to do whatever you want."

You don't think that he's trying to twist the knife, don't believe that he even realizes he's holding it, but the fact of the matter is what you want is this, right here—in the kitchen with him, but having almost any other conversation.

"Thanks for the permission."

"Just making sure you don't think you need it, considering you still have my name."

He still thinks you're both joking, that's the problem. And maybe you should be joking, but Mrs. Robinavitch. Goddamn, when's the last time he called you that? Must've been your last anniversary—or the one before—?

"Hey." His hands cupping your cheeks takes you aback, and you draw in a deep, stunned breath. When did he get up? "What's going on up there?"

You shake your head, avoiding his eye as you take a deep draw from the beer can. He plucks it out of your hand once you lower it, setting it onto the counter beside you. You curl your arms around yourself, trying to ignore the fact that you're pouting like a petulant child.

"It wasn't a date," You finally offer.

"Okay. It wouldn't matter if it was."

Maybe that's half the problem. You want him it to matter, but to him it just—doesn't. Unless he's bluffing.

Since the two of you started...Whatever the hell this is, you've laid your cards on the table, in some measure. You told Michael that you wouldn't be okay if he wasn't okay. But you're starting to worry that Michael doesn't have any cards to lay on the table. You thought this was high-stakes poker, but it's starting to feel a helluva lot like solitaire.

But if he didn't care, then why change your light bulb? Why kiss you the way he did? He'd fallen asleep on your couch, back in your bed, he remembered where your mugs were—

But maybe you're not the safe space for him—maybe it's your home. Maybe you're just its custodian.

You raise a hand to scrub at your rapidly heating face, fighting back pinpricks of tears as you clench your jaw.

"Headache," You insist before he can pry, and it's not entirely lie. This is beginning to make your head spin.

"You should take something."

"I'm alright." You slap on a thin, unconvincing smile and nod back toward the table. "Your food's gonna get cold."

"You sure you're okay?"

You don't even grace that one with a response, just smile and insist:

"Let me know when you get home."

You can see him pushing down another prying question as he straightens his hoodie and takes up his backpack. He gives a small nod and leans in, dropping a kiss to your forehead.

"Drink some water, take something before you go to bed. You don't wanna wake up with it."

"Good night of sleep will clear it." As if you'll be able to sleep tonight.

"Maybe." He reaches out, gently chucking under your chin. "Seriously, don't wait for it to get worse."

"I won't! Crying out loud."

He grunts, turns to the door and opens it.

"Oh, and for the record," He adds, smiling widely at you over his shoulder. "Dana said she had a good time."

You manage to keep your smile frozen in place, and nod. You hold it until he's shut the door and you've locked it behind him. You rest your forehead against the cool wood, drawing a deep breath in through your nose and pushing it out between your lips. You draw in another, and as you push it out, the tears come.

If he'd known what you'd been up to the other night why put you through that song and dance? Just to see what you'd say? If you'd lie?

Your face twists as the tears flow faster, sorrow and anger and nerves twining together as you plop down onto your couch and let the sobs come freely.

If there's nothing wrong with hope, then why the hell does it hurt so much?

Next Part

Tag list:

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ;

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ;

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ;

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @realwhoreforfictionalmen

@mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989 ; @veryprairieberry ;

@kittenlittle24 ; @ilariyalavorowrites

#Michael Robinavitch x Reader #Michael Robinavitch x You #Dr Robby x Reader #Dr Robby x You #Doctor Robby x Reader #Doctor Robby x You #Mrs. R

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asxgard · 27 days ago

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Companionship | pt. 7

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: the silence, the distance, the questions, the longing.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: sorry this one is on the shorter side, I didn’t want to combine it with the previous chapter or with the next one. thank you all for the comments on the last two chapters, they really make my day🥹and thank you for all the likes, reblogs and follows too omg

and I spoiled y’all with a double update last time for all the angst I’m about to put you through🤗

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: age gap, foul language, angst, avoiding feelings, alcohol, hospital inaccuracies, injury/blood mentions

not beta read

Michael sat on the couch, frozen to it, long after his front door had closed. The hockey game was little more than white noise to him now, completely uncaring that his team was now winning. His ears rang and he tried to control his breathing.

Why had he done that? And secondly, why had he let you go?

The first question was easy enough to answer: he had gotten swept up in the moment and he let it carry him a bit too far. Surely, it was only that, if he ignored the feelings swirling around in his chest like a storm ready to break.

The second? Well, it was clear you needed to run away, not able to face your regret head on. How could he blame you? Who wanted to deal with an old man like him? Their age gap alone was sure to send most running for the hills. How on earth could you want him, with his quiet melancholy and emotional baggage?

It churned in his gut like it had begun to fester, and all he could do was sit there and let it rot.

He was unsure how he had allowed your arrangement to bleed into anything else—it was supposed to be easy, no attachments and certainly no complex emotions. An uncomplicated solace to help him process the bad days, and maybe even move on from the grief of losing Adamson. To even be a complete distraction from the Pitt.

Well, at least it was still a distraction, but he failed considerably at making no attachments to you or not having complex feelings regarding any of it. But now it was the wrong type of distraction, his mind wavering between the feel of your lips and your hands on him, to the echo of the door closing behind you.

Final. Quiet. A conversation all its own.

He needed a drink. He needed to bury his feelings and lose himself in the Pitt, like normal. That, at least, hadn’t changed.

In the days that followed, Michael’s phone burned heavy in his pocket. His heart raced whenever he thought about sending you a text, or trying to continue as if the other night had never happened. He couldn’t bring himself to, any words he could send to you felt like either too much or not enough.

Were you really having a good time?

Were you placating me?

Were you uncomfortable?

Did I make you uncomfortable?

Why did you kiss me again? Why did you go?

Can I call you?

It all was too much. He needed to forget about you and return to normal, before you had entered his life. It was hard to not consider the after with you; smiling, cheerful, an ever-present—

No. Enough.

His patient’s did not care if he was distracted, they needed him regardless of his state of mind.

Michael’s mood must have been palpable to most in the ED, giving him a wider berth than usual, except Dana. But that was why he loved her. Except when she pushed.

“You alright, Robby? You’re gloomier than usual.” She said, eyes flickering from her screen as he put down a tablet.

He let out a long sigh, “You know me. Right as rain.”

Dana raised a careful eyebrow at him, “That why you’re snapping at everyone?”

Michael rubbed the back of his neck. He needed to leave his personal life at the door just like everyone else.

That is, until your personal life walks right through the door.

—

You cried the moment you got through the doorway of your apartment, all the emotions you had tried to stuff away finally beginning to overflow. Your chest hurt like you had just experienced heartbreak, while simultaneously furious with yourself that you let everything get so out of hand.

You had put all your cards on him stopping you, maybe even calling attention to the storm that had been brewing between you. You did not have a hand to play when he did not, thoughts resorting to flee, run, get outta there.

When he hadn’t stopped you, you knew he had clearly made a mistake, too caught up in the moment, that was all that had been to him, surely. It didn’t mean anything to him, it couldn’t have. You were too young for him, too naive to be taken seriously.

Your heart ached.

Maybe you should have listened to Marsi right at the start, picked up a few bartender shifts and never even considered Erin’s “easy money” scheme. Nothing comes easy, not really. The pain in your chest was proof enough.

Moving slowly through your apartment, your limbs felt heavy, wanting nothing more than to lay face down on your bed and forget about the world for a while. You figured the quiet of your room would be soothing, but it felt like a prison.

Even days later, there was radio silence from Michael, not that you had expected much different. You figured that him not stopping you and you walking out was clearly the end of it — who could blame him? He hadn’t signed up for that shit.

Thinking of the arrangement, the Visa card weighed heavy in your wallet. You had half a mind to toss it, shred it, throw it in the nearest body of water. But, there was still a few hundred dollars left, and how could you waste that?

Maybe I should mail it to him, you thought miserably, no return address, no name. He’d know. He’d know it was me.

Marsi had taken notice of your sudden shift in mood purely over text messages. She reached out to make plans, to study or even go for a simple walk, but you wanted to be alone. You wanted to wallow in self-pity and your own foolish, reckless fantasy, even though it made you feel worse.

Your friends refused to let you, showing up to your apartment with a tray of brownies and alcohol. Erin even stayed suspiciously quiet over how you were handling it, no smart comment about no strings, or turning it into something it wasn’t. You all just enjoyed stupid rom-coms and funny stories Erin had endured with the hedge-fund manager she was “seeing”.

It felt normal. It felt good. But something was missing, and you hated that it was him.

You tried to move on, the anxiety not dissipating from your chest. You tried to focus on the present, on finishing school and eventually being able to escape your shitty job. Your new laptop sat pretty on your dining table, making it hard to forget, reminding you exactly how Michael had looked at you when you pulled it from the bag. Soft eyes, gentle smile. Originally, you had tried not to use it, tried to get by with your old laptop — but it only took a few days before it died completely.

You tried not to let her mind wander while you made dinner. Cutting up a few vegetables on your cutting board, you put your attention to your current project, but were easily sidetracked.

Should you be the one to bridge the conversation? You had nothing particularly interesting to say, only lingering questions:

Why did you kiss me?

Did it mean anything to you?

Do you want to forget about it?

Why did you let me go?

Can I call you?

Her hand slipped, the knife falling from your hand and moving to fall off the counter. Without even thinking about it, moving on instinct alone, you reached to catch it — grabbing hold of the sharp end. It cut into your hand and you immediately released your hold on it, letting it clatter to the ground.

Blood oozed from the gash now in your palm, diagonally cut end to end. Fuck.

You quickly grabbed paper towels to apply pressure, and tried to stop the bleeding, but it soaked through. It stung, bringing a handful of tears to your eyes, before moving to run it under some water. The cold water felt good, but revealed just how deep the wound was.

Panic swirled around in your gut, and you knew you were going to have to get stitches. What was the closest hospital to you? Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center? That sounded right.

In the ER, you waited in one of the chairs — mildly irritated it was too busy for you to be seen right away. You tried to steer clear of the sicker of the people waiting — the people coughing or looking nauseous, instead sitting next to a woman and her daughter. The girl was young, but nothing was obviously wrong with her, so you felt it was a safe enough option.

Hunger rumbled in your gut and you found yourself more annoyed that out of any time this happened, it was as you were making dinner.

It felt like forever until your name was called, standing and walking towards the lady with a tablet in her hands. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a ponytail, bangs covering her forehead, perhaps late thirties or early forties.

She smiled warmly at you, “Hi, I’m Dr. McKay, can I see?”

You nodded, moving the towel away from your palm with a wince. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but it was still ached. It still looked horrible to you and your eyes flicked away from it.

Dr. McKay made a small sound, “How did that happen?” She led you with her through the doors and into the back.

You frowned, “Making dinner, knife slipped. I stupidly reached to grab it without thinking.”

She nodded in what felt like understanding, easing some of the anxiety in your chest.

“Well, let’s get you stitched up.”

Your eyes moved across the ER, taking it in. Moving past several rooms until she stopped, gesturing inside. When you looked over to smile at her, your eyes collided with a familiar set of brown eyes across the hall, already watching you.

Michael. Fucking Michael.

When a storm breaks, there’s just a moment before the rain hits — and one is momentarily suspended in the heavy weight of the air around them, waiting for the fall.

[ Next ]

want to join the tag list? shoot me a message!

Companionship Taglist: @queenslandlover-93 @clementine111002 @virgomillie @emily-b @kaygilles @lt-jakeseresin @imonmykneessir @kniselle @cannonindeez @gabsgabsvaz @rosiepoise88 @calivia @holdonimwalkingmysnail @valhallavalkyrie9 @blahkateisdone @shadowhuntyi @fuckalrighty @spoiledflor @elli3williams @ksyn-faith @yournerdmodziata @i-know-i-can @dickheadturner @dcgoddess @pittobsessed @glamorizethechaos @blueb33ry-cat

All Dr. Robby Content: @cherriready @kittenhawkk @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy @18lkpeters @flyinglama

Sorry for the mild cliffhanger…

#the pitt #michael robinavitch #dr robby #michael robinavitch x reader #michael robinavitch x female reader #dr robby x reader #companionship series #asxgard writes #men with those brown eyes are such a weakness #tHOSE GLASSES??#um hello

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bluerosefox · 1 year ago

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Drake Siblings

Have I read this prompt somewhere or was this a fever dream from my bored mind.

What if, now hear me out.

What if we bring up Dana Winters-Drake (whose confirmed to at least be alive in the DC verse but no one knows where she actually is)

What if instead of when she had a mental breakdown and getting committed to an Bludhaven clinc she wandered away before anyone noticed and by the time Tim or anyone did notice a lot of stuff started happening at once in both Gotham and Bludhaven (Steph dying, The Bludhaven crisis, etc etc)

Tim still tries to find her though but even with best resources it was like she just disappeared into the wilderness and the stress of trying to handle more and more problems get worse.

So when out of the blue, a couple of years later, he gets a call from an unknown number. On his private, only for friends and family, phone and when he answers he meet with a young girls voice on the other end.

A very young, maybe six or seven, girl who informs him about his apparently half-brother Danny Drake-Fenton. And how she loves Danny so, so, so much but knows her home is dangerous for him to be in.

Tim is stunned and before he could question her, she says Danny is Dana and Jack's baby and that her parents had adopted him years ago and put Dana's stuff that the hospital had away for him to look at when he was older but she just had to fight off their lunch from eating her brother and she knows he needs a better place to live and so she snooped around and found Dana's diary and that she had to unscramble the nonsense Dana wrote and found Tim's number with the words 'tell him about his brother Danny' hidden in it. And-

But before she could keep rambling she hears Danny screaming "JAZZY THE MILK WENT BAD AGAIN AND HISSED AT ME!"

Tim is left with silence after hearing Jazz yell to Danny to lock the fridge and step out of the kitchen as she gets the bat.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #crossover #dp x dc #blue rambles #danny phantom dc #writing ideas #random idea #dpxdc #jazz fenton #tim drake #danny and tim are half brothers #dana Winters-Drake was pregnant when she disappeared #she was out of her mind until she found out and tried her best to regain control but it was hard #she had in and out episodes #she wanted to contact Tim but knew he was still in Gotham and she just coulnt due to episodes of her mental health failing #she was found months later in labor and rushed to a hospital and Danny somehow came out healthy #small but healthy #Dana however lasted a few more hours before passing away from the birth #weeks laters Danny is adopted or fostered out #Dana wrote in diary but scramble and scribbled during her episodes #Jazz finds it and being the smarty she is starts figuring it out #it also set her on her path to understand the human mind #Tim gets to be a big brother #not just for Danny though #hes gonna take Jazz in too after he finds out about how bad the home life is #will Danny still become Phantom though?#maybe #maybe Tim gets there and Jack and Maddie finished the portal way earlier than canon and Danny being curious goes to see #and comes down the stairs to see his baby brother die and then come back

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bellamysgriffin · 3 months ago

Note

if you think the joking about hating all men post is really fine then you're a terf

well no! i think that there's a difference between misandry and transphobia. i'm not a genuine misandrist, but women should be allowed make "i hate men" jokes when 140 women were killed per day in 2023, 60% at the hands of their partner/close relative. gender essentialism is bad, but telling women they can't make "i hate men" jokes or generalize about the ways in which men can and do perpetuate sexual violence simply because trans men also exist is another way of saying "not all men." we live in a patriarchal society, and in order to discuss that, we have to talk about male culture which very much does exist, and that will result in generalizations, and yes, sometimes jokes.

#dana answers stuff

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kilojulietsierra · 14 days ago

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Baby, It's Alright - Chapter Two

(Dr. Robby x Fem!Reader)

A little later than I promised but here it is!

Summary: Reader gets a sort of second date with Robby that sort of doesn't go the way she planned. It sort of goes better...

TW: all my content is considered 18+, age gap, car accident but everyone is fine, medical inaccuracies, DIY medicine = kids don't try this at home, sort of slow burn sorry, quiet flirting, male friendship, includes Dr Jack Abbot x nurse wife!OFC, Jack and Sam are INVESTED, Reader is nervous and twitterpated, Robby is falling and he's working through that ok!

This is a part of my "Save Me From Myself" series, if you feel so inclined you can check that out! Love you all for the love!

Read Chapter One here if you missed it!

~~~~~

Sam had invited you out for coffee after your shift and once you had found a table she asked the question you had been expecting for a week. "So, how are you feeling about your sexy, older, ER doc crush now?"

"Do you have to say it that way?" You supposed you should be grateful she'd let you go this long without bringing it up. It had given you time to think.

"Yes," She smiled, "I'm honestly having fun torturing you both. Stop avoiding the question."

You thought for a minute while you picked at your muffin, "Is it weird?" You were aware it was a vague yet somehow loaded question.

Sam still smiled, a little softer, as she reached up to let her bun down, "I don't think I can answer that for you." She paused to take a sip of her coffee and then continued. "What I can tell you is that when I first got to spend some time with Jack, we didn't know anything about each other, but, we sat and ate together and I knew that I could sit at a shitty picnic table and eat shitty pizza with him anywhere in the world and be perfectly happy."

You thought about what she had said, thought about dinner and the chat you had with Robby after.

Across rhe table from you Sam chuckled, "You realize you don't even have to say it right? It's written all over your face."

~~~~~

Robby blinked, snapped out of his thoughts, as his earbuds read out, "Incoming call from: Sam Abbot"

"Good morning Mrs. Abbot."

"Good morning Dr. Robinavitch. You on your way to work?"

"Mhmm, you've got three blocks."

She got right to the point, "If I told you Y/N was interested in seeing you again, what would you say?"

Robby scoffed, "I'd ask what you're bribing her with."

"Robby I swear to God, do you like her or not?"

"I don't know that it's that easy Sam."

"Because you're making it complicated."

"It is what I do best."

"You should have seen her face this morning when I brought you up." When that doesn't get a response out of him she continues, "I knew it! You big chicken, just admit you would like to see her again."

"I don't know Sam."

Something in his tone sobers Sam up a little bit, "Ok, I'm not bullying you,"

"You sure?" He interrupted, only half teasing.

"Shut up. Look, she liked meeting you at the house the other night and I think she really likes you. So, I won't beat you up about it, but will you at least promise me you'll think about it? You might be pleasantly surprised."

Robby was quiet for most of the next block, "Ok, I will think about it. I am thinking about it."

Sam's smile was evident in her voice, "Ok, good. I'm glad. Have a good day at work, okay."

Robby couldn't help but smile with her, "I will, I'll make sure Jack leaves on time."

~~~~

As soon as Robby got inside the the ED Dana met him at the counter, "So, haven't seen you, how'd dinner go with the VA cutie go?"

Robby glared at Jack as he gathered up his stuff. Jack just glared right back.

"Oh please," Dana scoffed, "Don't look at him, he's like trying to get gossip out of a KGB agent."

Robby throws another glance at Jack who just shrugs and slaps him on the back on his way out. When he turns back to Dana he sighs, "Ok, what did Sam tell you?"

"Nothing much, just talked to her quick the other day and she said they had you two over for dinner and that Y/N had a good time."

Suddenly, he was already exhausted and he had only just got to work, "Is there anyway for me avoid this conversation?" The look she gives him says it all. "Dinner was... fine, actually no dinner was good. She is everything Sam said she was and more."

Dana softened, "But?"

He sighs and scratches at his beard as he leans his elbows on the counter, "She's so young."

With an arched brow, "Robby, she's a grown woman, and from what I hear she's a grown woman that likes what she sees."

~~~~~

Robby heard the access door open, but he didn't turn. DIdn't need to.

"At least you're on this side of the rail this time."

Robby scoffed, "Look who's talking."

Jack nodded, "Came to tell you to go home." He stepped up to the rail and leaned his forearms over the top. "What're you doin' up here anyway?"

His colleague didn't answer right away, but Jack waited him out. "Needed some quiet, time to think about some things."

"Would one of those things happen to be a pretty, little nurse over at the VA?"

"That's your shtick brother." Robby gave him a side eye.

Jack shook his head with a chuckle, "Well that wasn't a no." He turned his head and gave Robby a look, "C'mon, tell me what's up. You got," He turned his wrist over, "Five minute before my shift starts."

"You a counselor now?" Robby scoffed.

"Four minutes, 50 seconds."

"Fuck me, you really want to talk about this?"

"Not especially, but we're gonna." He stood up and turned around to lean back against the rail, "And I really only have it in me to say this once, so listen."

Robby grumbled, but did not interrupt.

"I know the age thing is messing with you, but I think you're makin' a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be. You know, Sam fell for a... a 29 year old soldier with a six pack and God complex. Now, she's married to a 46 year old doctor with fucking grey hair, frown lines, PTSD and a shitty schedule. She still loves me, and yeah shut up, God knows why sometimes. But look brother, she's the only thing that keeps me above ground on the really bad days."

After a deep breath Robby shook his head, "Still different. She wouldn't be getting any of the good years, and Jesus I feel old just thinking about it." He laughed at himself.

Jack laughed a little, at Robby as much as at himself, "I mean, you're older than me." He takes the jab because he can't help himself, "But, for what it's worth, sometimes yeah, you're goin' to feel old as fuck, but most the time the age difference thing isn't even a factor." He paused and turned back around, hands gripped the railing as he leaned into it. "Then there's sometimes man where she's goin' make you feel twenty years old again, ten feet tall and fucking bulletproof." He chuckled, "Plus, look at it this way, now you got twenty, thirty years experience to put behind it."

"Oh fuck off." Jack laughed again, "C'mon, times up, otherwise I'm goin' to bill you." He pushed back from the railing.

"Sam, she's your once in a lifetime man." Robby's voice sounded tight. "Doesn't happen every day."

Stopped two steps away Jack turned back, hands in his pockets, and nodded, "You ever think Y/N might be yours?"

~~~~~~

When Sam had texted you last week that Robby was interested in seeing you again your initial reaction had been panic. Dinner at Jack and Sam's had been fun, easy even. Then you stopped and thought about going on a real, actual date, just you and Robby.

For whatever reason, the thought scared you, like maybe you weren't quite ready for that just yet. You wanted to see him again, you knew that for sure, but you couldn't help but feel like that first night had been less of a date and more of a dinner with friends.

Sam had teased you, a little, "Not that we mind, but you are going to have to take the training wheels off at some point."

She had agreed though and that was how you found yourself in Sam's SUV on your way to lunch. Jack driving and Robby up front with him, Sam next to you currently leaned over the center console typing in the restaraunt address into the GPS screen.

"Would you please, sit your ass back down?" Jack chided his wife with a smile. "I know where we're going."

You stifled a laugh as Sam caught your gaze and rolled her eyes as she settled back into her seat and buckled her seat belt. "So bossy."

From where you sat you could see the look they gave each other in the rearview mirror. You also saw the moment, halfway through an intersection, when Jacks eyes jumped the left.

"Mother fuck..." He didn't even get out the rest of the word before the car that had blown through the stoplight slammed into the SUV.

Tires squealed and you could hear the creak and crunch of metal on metal over the ringing in your ears as the airbags deployed.

~~~~~

"Sam, baby you okay?"

"Yeah! I'm fine."

"Y/N, you okay?"

Everything was fuzzy, your ears still rang and this time it was Robby calling back to you, "Y/N, hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm, I'm okay."

As your vision cleared you heard a repeated pop and hiss, pop and hiss. Jack had pulled out his knife and was popping the airbags on the driver side of the SUV. You flinched when your door opened, but a warm hand grabbed your wrist and squeezed.

"Hey," Robby spoke calmly, "Cover your eyes for me." Another pop and hiss and the side curtain airbag between you and him deflated. "There we go. Hey, look at me. Anything hurt?" When you didn't answer right away he ducked his head to catch your eye, "Does anything hurt?" His eyes scanned you head to toe and he gave you a little nod when you told him nothing hurt. "Ok, good watch my finger for me. Perfect." His hands moved to take each of yours, "Squeeze for me. Good. Move your feet?" He gave a smile and a nod, "Ok, you're ok, c'mon. I got you."

"Robby!" Jacks voice carried from the other side of the SUV, "I got three over here. Driver's unresponsive!"

Robby helped you out and away from the Tahoe where it had come to rest in corner of the intersection.

"Sam, grab a kit!"

You watched Robby disappear around the SUV and you could hear Sam behind you. When you turn she had a phone pressed to her ear as she opened the back hatch.

"Intersection of South Highland and Liberty. MVC in the southound lane, three vehicles involved." She drug a backpack out of the back, "We are going to need EMS, yes ma'am. Yes ma'am. Expect multiple injuries. My name is Samantha Abbot. Yes ma'am."

Head still fuzzy you watched as she jogged towards the car that had hit you, the whole front end completely mangled. After a second your instinct kicked in and you followed after her.

Jack didn't even look over his shoulder as Sam came up behind him, "Driver is unresponsive to pain, pupils are pinned. Grab me the narcan."

You took Sam's lead and went to Robby to see what you could do to help. He looked up at you briefly, "Check her in the back. If shes's ok get her over to the sidewalk. Then come back, grab me one of the kits out of the Tahoe on your way. Should be a backpack, probably camo or black."

Grateful for the direction you did as he said and came back with a black backpack moments later. "Got it."

"Ok perfect." He glanced at the bag, "That big front pocket should be some 4x4 gauze, grab me that and then can you hold C-spine for me?"

You crawled in the backseat and supported the passengers head and neck from behind.

"Jack, you got a collar?" Robby called out across the car. "Looks like the passenger went head versus windshield."

Sam came jogging back, "Other car is fine, minor lacs and bag burn, a little spooked. I can hear EMS. What you need?"

"Grab the collar out of the pelican case, give it to Robby." Jack caught the driver by the shoulders as he sat bolt up right with a gasp. "Welcome back. What did you take?" When he got no answer he made a fist and rubbed it over his sternum, "Focus buddy. You were in a car accident, do you remember what happened? Can you tell me what you took?"

The cops get there first and apparently one of them recognized Jack and Robby, "Don't you guys ever take a day off?"

Robby scoffed, "This was supposed to be my day off."

"Just can't help it." Jack laughed as EMTs arrived and made their way over, "Overdose here, came around with three of narcan, this is the driver. Robby has the worst, looks like he's banged up pretty good, no seat belt. Backseat passenger, and passengers in the third car they're all minor lacs, contusions, abrasians."

"What about the Tahoe?" Jack grimmaced, "That's us, we're all good, just clipped the front quarter panel when they ran the light."

A cop looked around, "RP?"

Jack pointed to Sam, "My wife, Samantha, called it in on my phone."

"Looks like you need checked out too man." The cop pointed at a gash on Jacks arm from the broken glass, but he just waved it off.

Another set of EMTs ushered you out of the backseat so they could get to the passenger. One of them taking over holding traction and you moved to the side. Out of the way. You couldn't help but think, through the pounding headache, that this was not how this afternoon was supposed to go.

~~~~~

After you had talked to one of the cops, told them the little bit you could, you headed back towards the Tahoe to grab your purse. The cops said the vehicles would all be towed.

When you get back to the SUV you find Sam and Jack at the back, the hatch open and Jack sitting in the back. His left foot is braced on the bumper, his arm rested over his knee while his wife sutured the small gash on his forearm.

"Good, make sure to finish it with a..."

Sam froze and her eyes snapped up to Jacks with a scowl.

"Habit, sorry, just habit." He gave her a smile and his right thumb stroked over her hip where he had his right hand resting while she worked on him.

When an EMT comes back with Robby he took one look at the couple and groaned, "Dude, seriously?"

Jack glanced up at the kid in uniform, "Go get the form."

"SIr, that needs seen by a doctor."

You caught Robby's chuckle from where he sood just behind you.

"I am a doctor," Jack kept his tone flat, "I've seen it. She'll do a better job than wherever you would take me anyway. Go get the form."

Brow furrowed you turn to Robby, "He's really not going to go to the hospital?"

He gave you a little grin, "Have you ever seen and ER doctor actually go to the hospital?" He laughs, "If he can't do it himself, she does it. Nothing new."

Not that you doubt your boss, she's a bad ass nurse, but, "She's not a doctor, what if it was something serious that she's never done before?"

"He talks her through it." He gives you a wink that makes you forget about the accident for a second. "I'm still not convicned she hasn't removed his appendix just to see if she could." He lightened the mood a little bit and then his eyes softened as they settled on your face. "How's your head feel now?"

Robby reached up and brushed a thumb around the edge of the abrasion on your forehead. The burn from the side curtain airbags. Your eyes closed of their own accord at his gentle touch, "Hurts."

His thumb moved low to trace under the apple of your cheek where the skin was also raw and tender, "Adrenaline is starting to wear off."

Jack spoke up, his eyes trained on the knot his wife tied in his suture. "Take her home. We'll have to wait for the wrecker."

Robby gave you a nod and a soft smile, "Let's grab your stuff."

~~~~~

Later, while they're watching the wrecker drag her Tahoe with it's mangled front end onto the flatbed, Jack wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders and gave her a squeeze, "Sorry about your car baby." He dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

Sam sighed deep, and rested her head on his shoulder, "Just glad it wasn't worse." She turned to look him up and down, "Sure you're ok?" Focusing on the tiny laceration on his temple she'd glued, the dressing on his forearm and the way his bad shoulder dipped just a little lower than the other.

"I'm fine." He looked her in the eye and gave her a nod, "Glad it was me not you."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't do that." Sam smiled carefully, and then chuckled a bit. "Here," She held up the dog tags she'd pulled off the rearview mirror, "Want these? Old times sake?"

Jack cracked a smile and took his old dog tags from her, a reminder from a lifetime ago. "I've got a set already." He gave her a wink as he bounced the tags and chain in his palm a couple times, thinking fondly about the old set of hers always hanging in his truck. "Here." He smiled wider as he slipped the chain around her neck, moved her hair out of the way and then tugged on the collar of her shirt so he could drop the tags inside.

Sam's eyes never left his and she smirked, "You think you're cute don't you?"

He pursed his lips with a shrug, "Married me didn't you?"

She let him kiss her on the forehead as she hummed skeptically.

"C'mon," He whispered against her brow and gave her one more kiss, "We'll go get somethin' to eat, guess we'll Uber to the house then we can take the truck to go pick up all our shit."

She ducked out from under his arm and gave him a look, "I'm sorry, we can go get something to eat?"

"Yeah," He gave her a blank look, playing at not understanding why she questioned it, "I'm fucking starving."

"You're hungry? You sent Robby and Y/N home." When he continued to stare she elaborated, "To presumably take it easy, because they were just in a car accident, but we're going to just go to lunch?"

Jack shrugged, "Eh, let Robby take her home, play a little doctor. Do 'em both some good."

Sam's eyes went wide, "Oh my God! You give me shit, but you do want them to get together!" She gave him a calculated shove and shook her head at him.

He kept up the straight face and tugged her back to him, "Not what I said."

~~~~~~

Robby was in your apartment.

You weren't sure what possessed you, where you had found the guts to invite him inside, but the way he had been looking at you made you think that maybe he had wanted you to.

As soon as he was across the threshold of your tiny apartment he pointed to your loveseat, "Go sit down." You did as he said and watched as he washed his hands in your sink and then ran a handful of paper towels under cold water. "Okay if I clean this up a little bit?" He asked as he gently pressed the damp towels to your brow and cheek.

Even though the towels were cool you felt your whole body flush when he touched you. Just barely touches you, as he guides your hand up to hold them in place. "Robby, you don't have to, really."

"Michael, and that's not what I asked." He gave you an easy little grin, trying to pry the cooperation out of you. When you finally give him the nod he had been waiting for that smile gets a fraction bigger. "It's not too bad. Where's your first aid kit? I'll clean it up and put a little dressing on to help it heal faster."

Next thing you knew Michael was sitting on the ottoman in front of you cleaning up and dressing the area where the airbags had irritated your skin. You didn't know what kind of doctor he was on shift, but the way he carefully held you steady with one hand and treated the burns with the other, his touch confident yet gentle, those deep brown eyes focused on the task, you could certainly imagine.

Occasionally though those eyes would flick to yours, and the way he sat with his legs bracketing yours you were close enough to see there was something hiding in those eyes. Just as much as there was something hiding in his careful touch.

You didn't mean to whisper when you spoke up, but you couldn't risk disturbing the moment. "Sorry this afternoon didn't quite turn out the way I had hoped."

He gave you a little smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, "You weren't the one that ODed and ran the red light."

"I know," You watched his hands as he packed up your first aid kit. "But still, I was looking forward to it."

The way he looked at you looked like that might have surprised him. That you had been looking forward to seeing him. The look passed quickly, like he had hidden it away, and then he looked at his watch. "Could still do a late lunch. If you feel up to it."

~~~~~~

Michael had offered to take you out to eat, to make up for the date that you had missed out on, but you had panicked. You didn't like the idea of him leaving your apartment now that you'd seen him move through it. As silly as it sounded, you worried that you wouldn't get him back again if you let him leave now. "Would you be okay if we order something and just ate here?"

For a brief moment he hesitated and appeared to have an array of emotions spin through him before he settled on a nod, "What sounds good?" He had already pulled up the DoorDash app on his phone.

You agree on something and he orders it. The restaraunt is close by so it shouldn't be long. You glance around your tiny, effeciency apartment. Coursework is scattered all over you kitchen table and you suddenly realize your mistake.

Behind you Robby must see you hesitate, "If I had to guess I'd say that table doesn't get used to eat much?"

"Basically never." You admit, embarrassed.

His gaze shifts over the menagarie of books and pens, markers, reports and studies littered with multi-colored sticky notes. He smiles, "Going for your Masters right?"

"Yeah. A decision I regret almost daily." You laughed at your own self-inflicted torture and than catch the look he gives you. A clear invitation to explain yourself. "I was never good at the whole school thing. I'm smart don't get me wrong, but the classes, the lectures, homework, I've always hated it."

"So, why are you doing it?"

"I want to teach, and no the irony is not lost on me."

"Really?"

"That hard to believe?"

"No." He shakes his head, not backpedaling or second guessing his answer just a simple no. "Wouldn't think someone so young would be going that route is all."

This was not a new sentiment. "I love being a nurse, always have, and it's always been what I wanted to do."

"But..." He tilted his head to one side and waited patiently.

You chewed on your lip and thought for a moment, "Take today for example. Sam is an amazing nurse and I've learned so much from her already, but I always get the feeling that she craves the chaos of it. That's why shes where she is. You can watch her work and she thrives in situations like that. Running an ER is exactly where she belongs. Me, I can do the work and yes I do love it, but I've never had that level of desire for it. I don't need it like she does. I've always been more drawn to... cultivating the love for this in others." You pause not meaning to ramble, "I fumbled a little today, until I saw you and Jack and her dive in headfirst and, like right now, I just think that I'm meant more to help others build that foundation, that confidence and competency to go out there and find where they belong in all this. I might not ever be the nurse that can take charge and own the floor when everything is falling apart, but I love the idea that I could help send hundreds or maybe even thousands of nurses into the system that could."

Robby, Michael, just stares at you for a long time.

Your heart suddenly pounds in your ears, "Sorry, I kind of just word vomited all over you." You laugh to try and dispel the awkwardness.

He just shakes his head, "Don't apologize. I think that's incredible." The look he gives you feels like it could stop your heart. Or maybe shock it back into rythym.

A knock at the door ends it there, for now.

"Foods here."

~~~~~

He moves to answer your door like he's done it a dozen times before. Maybe it's just because you haven't moved a muscle from where you were standing when you heard the word 'incredible'. "So, If you don't eat at the table?" He waits patiently for you to answer.

You fidget a little before youdo "This is so embarrassing, but honestly, I usually just eat over the sink, or sometimes i'll sit on the floor and use the ottoman for a table."

The thought hits him without warning, 'I'm too old for this', but then he takes that extra beat to really think about it. He thought about what Jack had said, that sometimes she might make him feel old as fuck, but sometimes...

So, he takes the takeout into your tiny living room and set's it on the oversized footstool.

You give him a little look as he settles down on the floor next to you and leans back against the front of the loveseat. "Do you want me to grab the Icy Hot now or wait until you try to get up?"

Robby laughs, he couldn't help himself, because yes he feels old as fuck, but he likes that you can poke at him, push him, say things that make his cheeks heat up. A part of him can't help but think about what he would do if this was real, if this wasn't just an attempt to salvage a sort of first date that went off the rails. If you were his.

Because if you were his and you'd teased him like that he would want to forget about the takeout and make sure you were both a little sore when you got up off the floor.

~~~~~

After you eat you have to force yourself to tell him you have school work, because you would sit on the floor with him the rest of the night if you could. What Sam had said about shitty pizza and picnic tables flashed through your mind and you smiled.

At the door you ask, "Would you be willing to try lunch again sometime, or dinner? With real furniture."

Michael gives you that crinkly eyed smile and shoves his hands in his pockets, "I'm not opposed to the floor, but I might make you pay for the chiropractor next time."

Your heart was a jackhammer in your chest when he reached up to ghost a finger over the dressing he'd put over the abrasions on your cheek and face.

"Do something for me?" He words are soft, not teasing anymore.

Anything. You have to choke the word down with a nod.

His touch lingers, "Come by tomorrow, so I can see you. Take a look at this." He traced the edge of a bandage, "My shift starts at seven."

~~~~~~

You had never been so nervous to walk into a hospital before in your life as you were when you entered the PTMC Emergency department like Michael had requested. You join the line to wait, but one of the registrars makes eye contact with you and waves you up.

You apologize to everyone that you passed in the line and gave her your name at the window, "I'm supposed to see Dr. Robinavitch." She smiled, "Yes, yes, he told me to keep an eye out for you. All the way to your right, I'll buzz you in."

You nearly run into Jack as you step through the fire doors into the ED. You flinch a little, startled, but you don't think Jack Abbot has been startled by anything in his life.

He does look a little curious though. "Hey, long time no see." He had a long sleeve shirt on under his scrub top, you assumed to cover the bandage and the cut on his arm. The small cut at his temple has a bruise around it now. "What're you doing here? Everything okay?" He ducked his head to look at you, clearly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine, fine. Just following doctors orders." You pointed to where Michael stood by the main nurses station.

Jacks eyebrows jump as he nods and adjusts his backpack, then he meets Robby's gaze across the way. They exchange a look you can't read and then Jack turned back to you. "Ok then. Take it easy ok? I'll see you around."

You don't see the smirk on his face as he continued to the door, but Robby does.

You also don't see him immediately pull his phone out of his pocket as he pushes through the door with his shoulder, but Robby does.

"Good morning." You try for bright and cheery and not sick to your stomach with nerves.

Michael smiles, skips over the pleasantries, "How are you feeling?" He reached for your temple while his eyes asked if it was ok.

You nodded, "Little headache this morning, nothing bad. How about you?"

"Oh, I'm just fine." He carefully pulls back the tape holding the dressing down and does a quick exam. "This looks ok. Want me to dress it again?"

Selfishly you nodded, "If you don't mind. Since you made me drive all the way down here."

He gave you a look as he guided you back behind the nurses station and into one of the chairs. "Wait right here, I'll be back."

Just as soft and competent as before he cleaned and treated the burns from the airbag, this time only putting a dressing over the one on your forehead.

He had just finished up when a nurse in grey scrubs came around the corner, "We run out of rooms and hallways already?"

Michael chuckled, "Just a quick check up. Dana this is Y/N, Y/N this is Dana."

Dana's smile doubles as she looks from you to him and then back. "Oh my God, yes! It's so good to meet you." She pulled you into a hug you were not expecting, "Sammy's told me all about you."

You try not to flush, but you can see Michael's cheeks go just a little pink so you know at least you're not alone.

~~~~~

You were barely out the door when Robby's phone goes off and he gets a text from Sam.

'Doctors orders huh? Winky face, winky face. What's you next weekend off? I'll see if I can get you two a Saturday night for your next follow up.'

Robby drops his head and groans as he spins his phone around and around in his fingers.

Dana pops up next to him again, "What's that face for?"

He looks her in the eye, "One of these days, I'm going to push Jack off the roof."

~~~~~

By the time you left Robby's department you were all fixed up again, had his number in your phone and felt like your head was about to spin right off. When your phone vibrated, still in your hand, you nearly dropped it.

A text from Michael Robinavitch, 'If you're free Saturday after next, how would you feel about dinner? Real restaraunt, real furniture."

Your heart raced as you checked your email, silently praying Sam had sent out the schedule for next month, and there it was, a free Saturday night. Nearly shaking you texted him back, 'What if I liked sitting on the floor with you?' You bit your lip and waited.

"Compromise for the couch after dinner?'

~~~~

Chapter Three - Coming Soon!

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