Don't Give Me Hope

~ private multimuse blog ~ NSFW material ~please read rules ~

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

Rules

independent rp / selective / 21+ / mutuals only

***Please excuse the look of the blog while I try to figure out how to edit the theme***

main muses: robin bryne (oc) liam scarpa (oc) alex scarpa (oc) dr leo bennett (oc) shane walsh (the walking dead) andrew cody (animal kingdom) dr john shen (the pitt)

blog roll: pittresilience - jack abbot pittcynical - robby thelongrotation - john carter defectivexfragmented - marvel muses strangerxfreaks - steve harrington & eddie munson

memes

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

I'd like to thank everyone who has reached out to me about the anon hate! I promise I'm not upset! if anything, I have come up with the best idea to piss the person who sent the anon....go write with carter! the more threads carter has, the more anon is not only proven wrong but hopefully is just stewing in their toxicity.

to me, we fight anon hate with love...for carter!

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

I've had the carter blog for about 4 hours and I'm already getting anon hate! new record for me!

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

OPEN STARTER - ANDREW

The restaurant is quiet for the middle of the afternoon, the lunch crowd having thinned enough that conversations remain low and unhurried beneath the soft music playing overhead. Crisp white linens cover each table, polished glassware catches the light, and servers move through the dining room with practiced ease. Andrew arrives nearly twenty minutes early, as he always does, quietly thanking the hostess before taking the table he'd reserved.

He doesn't order beyond a glass of water. Instead, he sits with his back perfectly straight, jacket folded neatly over the empty chair beside him, fingertips resting lightly against the edge of the table. Every so often his eyes drift toward the entrance whenever it opens, only to settle back on the untouched menu in front of him. The invitation had been simple. Lunch. No expectations beyond that. Experience had taught him not to mistake an agreement for a promise, so waiting came easier than hoping.

The room gradually fills as the afternoon wears on. Servers weave between tables carrying freshly plated meals while the quiet murmur of conversation ebbs and flows around him. Andrew remains composed, occasionally checking the time on his watch before returning his attention to the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever as he continues to wait.

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

OPEN STARTER - ANDREW

The emergency department is all fluorescent lights and antiseptic smells, neither of which do much to settle the restless tension sitting beneath Andrew's skin. A nurse had finally brought him through from the waiting room nearly twenty minutes ago, cleaned the knife wound enough to stop the bleeding, and left him sitting alone behind a drawn privacy curtain with fresh gauze taped firmly over his side. His sweatshirt lies folded with deliberate precision across the plastic chair beside the stretcher, every wrinkle smoothed out before he'd been able to stop himself. Even now, his hands are clean—scrubbed until there isn't a trace of dried blood left beneath his fingernails.

Rather than lying back on the stretcher, Andrew sits rigidly on its edge, his spine perfectly straight despite the pain that radiates through his ribs. One hand rests lightly over the bandage at his side while the other pulls his phone from his pocket. The screen lights up across his face. One message sent nearly forty minutes ago. No reply. His thumb hovers over the conversation for a moment before locking the phone again with a quiet click. He slips it back into his pocket without sending another. If they were going to answer, they would. Asking twice wouldn't change that.

The muffled sounds of the department carry through the curtain—monitors chiming somewhere nearby, hurried footsteps, the low murmur of nurses giving report. Andrew shifts only enough to ease the pull along his side before settling back into the same rigid posture, shoulders squared and jaw set. His gaze remains fixed on the narrow gap in the curtain, waiting in complete silence for whoever comes through it next.

[acecroft]

SHAWN HATOSY as Titus Danforth in Ready or Not 2: Here I Come (2026)

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

I did the thing - carter

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

continued from here {x}

The kiss to his forehead lands without warning. Andrew goes still beneath it, every muscle tightening for the briefest moment before he forces himself to relax. His eyes never leave her face. They search it instead, trying to read past the concern into whatever else might be hiding there. Smurf never asked a question she didn't already have an answer to.

His hand remains pressed lightly against the bandage at his side. "Knife," he says simply. "Caught me here." He taps the dressing once with two fingers before letting his hand fall away. "Didn't go in very far." His gaze flicks toward the neatly folded sweatshirt on the chair beside him, checking that it hasn't shifted, then back to her. "They're keeping me until the doctor signs off."

Silence settles between them. His head tilts just enough to study her expression.

"Who told you I was here?"

@smurficide

[mabeltanaka]

Animal Kingdom 3.10 "Off the Tit"

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

I did the thing - carter

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

would anyone be interested in writing with John Carter if I added him?

hells yes

no thank you

may's button

Remaining time: 11 hours 50 minutes

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

Morning shift filters into the emergency department as night shift winds down, the nurses' station caught somewhere between organized chaos and controlled handoff. Shen sits at one of the workstations, finishing the last of his charting before he can finally head home. His jacket is draped over the back of the chair, a half-empty energy drink forgotten beside the keyboard. Without looking away from the chart on the monitor, he reaches to his other side, picks up an iced coffee and a small paper bag, and extends them toward Victoria the moment she comes within reach.

"Iced coffee. Blueberry muffin." The words are delivered with the same casual tone he'd use to read out a lab result. His eyes remain on the screen as he signs off another note, only speaking again a moment later.

"You usually come in without eating." Another click of the mouse.

@pittprodigy

[pittprodigy]

making her way into the er, victoria's eyes reflexively scan the area and takes in just what the day will have to offer her. she hasn't even been here for all that long she feels and already there's a few familiar faces that aren't staff which she's come to recognise. it's always busy in the er, but it's not chaotic which is something she's thankful for.

she's just stowed her bag in her locker and she's making her way towards the board when the voice reaches out to her. tilting her head, she sees the drink and paper bag being held out to her. victoria's gaze travels up the arms of offerer and a smile tugs on the corners of her lips as she sees shen. "how did you have the time to go and get these?" she takes the coffee and bag, giving the iced coffee a little swirl and she can still hear the sound of ice inside. bringing the straw to her lips, she takes an appreciative sip before she's peeking in the bag and her smile only grows. "how much do i owe you?"

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

A faint huff of amusement escapes him as he finally tears his attention away from the monitor. The chart closes with a click, and he leans back in the chair, rolling one shoulder to work out the stiffness from a long night shift. "I had a few minutes between patients earlier," he says as though it's nothing out of the ordinary. "Enough time to make a coffee run." At the question, he looks at her like the answer should be obvious. "Nothing." He reaches for the half-forgotten energy drink beside the keyboard, takes a sip, and immediately regrets it, his nose wrinkling slightly. "I bought it for you."

His gaze drops back to the screen long enough to finish logging out before he stands, slipping his tablet beneath one arm and shrugging into his jacket. "You almost never eat before your shift, and then by ten o'clock you're running on caffeine and stubbornness." The corner of his mouth lifts into the faintest hint of a smile. "I figured one of those problems was easier to fix than the other." He nods toward the bag in her hands. "So eat the muffin. Then you can tell me if I remembered your coffee order right."

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

would anyone be interested in writing with John Carter if I added him?

hells yes

no thank you

may's button

Remaining time: 11 hours 50 minutes

[rabbit-bitxh]

@alwaysxinxtrouble liked for a starter

"Robin?" An amused smile pulled across Robbys lips as he stepped into the exam room, it felt odd seeing her in this light, almost wrong. She didn't belong under these harsh lights only the warm natural glow of the sun far far away from this building.

"Well, wasn't expecting this was hoping I'd never have to run into you at work." He mused, badging into the terminal as he put his glasses on.

"What brings you in today?"

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

The paper beneath her shifts with a quiet crinkle as she looks up at the familiar voice, relief and amusement crossing her face at the same time. "Believe me," she says with a crooked smile, "I was hoping we'd keep seeing each other literally anywhere else."

Her left arm is tucked carefully against her chest, her opposite hand supporting it beneath the elbow. The wrist is noticeably swollen, the skin already mottled with deepening purple bruises that disappear beneath the cuff of her sleeve. "I missed the last step coming out of my house this morning." She lets out a soft, self-deprecating laugh. "Urgent care took one look at it and decided it was above their pay grade." She lifts the injured arm only a fraction before thinking better of it, wincing as she lets it settle back against her. "So... here I am."

[worldloved]

@alwaysxinxtrouble

"Вы, дамы, слишком добры ко мне." Bucky grins as the little babushka presses another small container of cloudberries into his hand. When her back is turned, he slips an extra twenty dollars into her till before moving on his way. The old Russian ladies love that he flirts with them, and he has a taste for the sweet tang of the berries after a mission in Kursk in the 80s.

He likes the farmers market. The people are all so busy among their stalls and wares that no one looks at him twice. Sure, he's the famed failed congressman for Brooklyn, and the infamous Winter Soldier, but out here, with a leather glove covering his metal hand and a flannel over his shoulders, he's just another guy doing his grocery shopping. Some days, that guy might be a little more confused than others, and might forget how to speak anything but Russian, but he's still forgettable enough on those days.

Seeing a familiar face among the stalls, he raises his flesh hand in greeting. "Yo, Alex!" Then he cringes at himself and moves through the throng of bodies to approach the other man. "Sorry I said 'yo,' I was trying something new. Bad idea."

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

A laugh slips out before Alex can stop it, the sound carrying easily over the chatter of the market. He's balancing a canvas tote against one hip, already half-full with fresh herbs, tomatoes, and a loaf of still-warm sourdough tucked beneath one arm. The apology earns a crooked grin instead of a judgment.

"I don't know," he says, tipping his head as if giving it serious consideration. "I think you almost pulled it off." His gaze flicks briefly to the containers tucked beneath Bucky's arm before returning to his face. "Another week or two and you'll have everyone convinced you're under thirty."

He falls into step beside him without much thought, weaving through the crowd as a couple carrying baskets passes between them. "Those from the Russian ladies?" he asks, nodding toward the cloudberries. "Mrs. Petrova tried to sell me three jars of homemade jam earlier because, apparently, I 'look too skinny.'" Alex snorts softly. "I've been cooking professionally for fifteen years, but sure... the eighty-year-old with a rolling pin knows best."

His smile lingers as he glances sideways at Bucky. There are days when the former soldier looks like he's carrying the weight of a century on his shoulders, and then there are mornings like this, standing in the middle of a bustling farmers market with fruit under one arm and an awkward greeting he'd already managed to embarrass himself over. Alex finds he likes this version best.

"So," he says, nudging Bucky's shoulder lightly with his own as they slow near a stand overflowing with peaches. "Was the 'yo' a one-time experiment, or should I brace myself for whatever comes after that?"

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

I'm here!! let's get some shit done, shall we? poke me for plots <3

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

Andrew’s breath hitches slightly when the injection goes in, more from instinct than surprise, his jaw tightening before he forces it to ease again. He nods once at the hang tight, like he’s anchoring himself to it, to Bill’s voice, to the rhythm of what’s happening instead of the pain still pulsing through his side.

“Yeah,” he mutters, quieter now, letting Bill guide his hand back over the gauze. His fingers press down, not as hard as before, more controlled this time, like he’s trusting the process even if every instinct in him wants to clamp down and hold. “Got it.” His breathing is still shallow, but there’s a slight shift to it already—less jagged, less reactive—as he focuses on keeping steady pressure.

The stethoscope against his chest pulls a sharper inhale from him, but he holds still through it, eyes fixed somewhere past Bill’s shoulder again. “No shortness,” he adds after a second, voice low but clearer. “Just… tight.” His fingers flex once against the gauze, then settle again.

At the warning, he gives another small nod, more delayed this time, like the edges are starting to blur just enough. “Okay,” Andrew murmurs, exhaling slowly as he braces himself. “Do it...maybe tell me about your day? To distract me..."

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

The sound of Bill's voice gradually becomes easier to follow than the tug of the stitches. His brow knits as he pictures the procedures being described, the details taking shape in his mind one by one. Somewhere along the way he had forgotten about the needle entering his skin to pull a length of thread through and remained entirely focused on what Bill had said.

"...What kind of drill do you use?" he asks after a moment, genuinely curious. "Is it... like a regular surgical drill, or something made just for that?" His eyes flick briefly toward Bill before settling back on the ceiling. "How do you know you're not hitting their brain?"

He pauses for a minute, staring off at nothing while his mind mulled over what Bill had done that day, another question surfacing almost immediately. "And after you put the drain in..." he says quietly, "does it stay there for a while? Until the swelling comes down?" He pauses again, trying to picture the recovery. "Then you just... pull it back out?"