Scrubs are an aesthetic

Rachel Collins, MD. Third-year resident in emergency medicine, critical care specialty. My job is hard, stressful, consuming--and my redemption. ❈ indie fandomless OC. sideblog to soulbranded. see navigation for more info. mun & muse 21+. written by jess....

[theseourbodiesrp]

"How could you do this?" ((-slides into askbox for any chara from witch or human rachel jUST RP WITH ME))

Matt squints at her through a screen of smoke, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. The cigarette smoke burns at the back of his throat, the nicotine heavy on his tongue. He exhales, obscuring himself from her even more.

“How did you find me?” Honestly, though, he knows. He’d left clues. He’d thought Neal would be the one to find him. But it was Rachel standing here before him, eyes stormy and fists clenched. Demanding an explanation for his faked death and a year living in the shadows. Ghosting his sweethearts in a way they didn’t deserve but was entirely necessary. “just couldn’t take the hint that I wanted t’be left alone, or what?”

[caffeineandspite]

@theseourbodiesrp

She echoes his own word to him, a vow and a promise and a hope. Together. He knows she means it. there is not a lying bone in her body, as deceptive as she is. She can tell an untruth, but she can’t lie to someone she loves. he knows that in his bones, and he smiles against her hair, arms tightening.

“I’d’ve come for you, Red. If i’d known Neal didn’t.” his voice broke on Neal’s name, an abyss 0f emotion. But he swallowed, hard, trying to drown his own feelings in the face of hers. “We shoulda told you, baby. I shoulda let you know.”

Now that he’s apologizing, that she knows the truth -- he didn’t leave me, he didn’t leave me -- she starts focusing on the other things. Like the crack in his voice when he says Neal’s name. It’s hurting him, and it’s scaring him, and that scares her, because nothing scares Matt. She remembers all he’s told her, about Spain, about the loss and grief and an explosion that could’ve been the end to him in every way but physical and she takes his face in hers. “I forgive you. You hear me? I forgive you.” It’s important he knows that, knows that she’s still on his side. Knows that he isn’t alone again. Now they need to come together, to put their fears aside and use their brains. Be the force of power that no one can reckon with. 

“Did you two have a plan?” she asks, praying they did. “Did you know he was going to fake his death too?” 

[theseourbodiesrp]

"How could you do this?" ((-slides into askbox for any chara from witch or human rachel jUST RP WITH ME))

Matt squints at her through a screen of smoke, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. The cigarette smoke burns at the back of his throat, the nicotine heavy on his tongue. He exhales, obscuring himself from her even more.

“How did you find me?” Honestly, though, he knows. He’d left clues. He’d thought Neal would be the one to find him. But it was Rachel standing here before him, eyes stormy and fists clenched. Demanding an explanation for his faked death and a year living in the shadows. Ghosting his sweethearts in a way they didn’t deserve but was entirely necessary. “just couldn’t take the hint that I wanted t’be left alone, or what?”

[caffeineandspite]

@theseourbodiesrp

She burrows against him like he’s the only safe port in a stormy sea, and his arms tighten around her. he kisses her hair, a brush of lips against the top of her head, fierce and true.

If he’s ever needed forgiveness, it’s not from her. Not from his girl, all shadow and deception. All lies and half-truths. As honest as he is to himself in his darkest moments.

He can’t believe he’d left her like that. Alone. The clues he’dd left had been meant for Neal, and her. He’d thought they’d be together. He’d thought they’d figure it out. But Neal… Neal was in the wind. Neal was a ghost.

“Okay. okay, Scarlett. I’ll never leave you again.” he says. “M’sorry. i thought…” and he admits it to himself, that he thought she’d loved Neal more, just like Kate. Katie had always loved Neal more than him, and he’d thought that Rachel was similar. it’s only now, when she’s trembling with worry against him, that he realizes. he should have known better. He should have seen.

He should have trusted.

“I know. I know, baby. We’ll find him. Together.” And he means you won’t be alone again. He means I’ll never leave you. He means i’ll only leave hen you want me to, not a moment sooner.

She hears his unspoken thoughts and presses closer against him, as if to reassure him. Funny how she’d been mad just moments earlier, but then, he’d always been able to do that. Get under her skin, see what she was really feeling, say what she needed to hear whether she wanted it or not. He promises to never leave her again and she exhales--exhales exhaustion, worry, agony. Matt says a lot of things, but he won’t break this promise, she knows it in her bones. 

“Together,” she echoes. For a moment, she’s quiet, letting herself have a minute of peace before their next crisis. How had she ended up here? No, that wasn’t the right question--she was always going to end up here. A girl like her, the wounds she carried, the way she saw the world--that’s why she fit with them, two conmen who played the most dangerous games they could find. 

“You know he’s protecting us. With what happened with the Panthers--you both had the same reasons.” She’s quiet again, but her mind is buzzing. “If they find out, we’ll have targets on our backs. And so will anyone we care about.” 

[theseourbodiesrp]

"How could you do this?" ((-slides into askbox for any chara from witch or human rachel jUST RP WITH ME))

Matt squints at her through a screen of smoke, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. The cigarette smoke burns at the back of his throat, the nicotine heavy on his tongue. He exhales, obscuring himself from her even more.

“How did you find me?” Honestly, though, he knows. He’d left clues. He’d thought Neal would be the one to find him. But it was Rachel standing here before him, eyes stormy and fists clenched. Demanding an explanation for his faked death and a year living in the shadows. Ghosting his sweethearts in a way they didn’t deserve but was entirely necessary. “just couldn’t take the hint that I wanted t’be left alone, or what?”

[caffeineandspite]

@theseourbodiesrp

I would’ve gone with you. Like it was that easy. And for a moment, his mind runs to that: a year with her, living in the shadows, hiding from the world.  Doing whatever they wanted when they felt like it. doing small jobs. living like kings.

but he’d thought Neal wasd going back for her. They never discussed it, but he expected the better part of them, gthe nicer one, to not leave her hanging. Goddamn Neal’s blue eyed soul. If he’d known, he never would have left Rachel like that. Fucking Neal.

she leans in and his arms go around her, natural and easy. Nothing faked about this, nothing calculated. Just Rachel leaning on him, and Kerller lending his support such that it is.

“I don’t know,” he answers. Raw still, honest. As always, with her. Already she’s casting her spell on him, enchantin him into honesty he’d never risk with anyone else.

no. He wants to tell her the truth. He wants to be honest with her, as he always has been, because she’s unafraid of his darkness. He says, pulling her flush against him. “Beleive me, baby. If i thought he was gonna leave you I’d’ve come for you. I thought… I thought different.”

He pulls her close and something inside her unravels, a knot that’s been eating at her heart for a year now. For the first time, she feels like she can breathe, and breathe she does, breathing in his scent, tobacco and gun oil and something earthy. Matt reminds her of a cave, dark and unknowable and in need of a little light, but she found comfort in those rough walls and those deep shadows. A cave was a sanctuary, and he’s hers, the place she can always run to to feel safe. 

His answer does nothing for the ice in her stomach, because a part of them is still missing. And the worst part is, she doesn’t know why? Is this Neal’s way of saying goodbye? Was he hurt? In trouble? The not-knowingness gnaws at her and she buries her face in Matt’s chest. He’s telling her the truth now, she can feel it, and her arms go around his neck.

“I believe you,” she says softly. “I’m just--I’m glad you’re okay. When I thought that you’d...” She can’t say it out loud. “I thought all my light was gone. Nothing but a ghost left haunting places she once called home.” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “We have to find him. Something could’ve happened to him.” 

[theseourbodiesrp]

"How could you do this?" ((-slides into askbox for any chara from witch or human rachel jUST RP WITH ME))

Matt squints at her through a screen of smoke, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. The cigarette smoke burns at the back of his throat, the nicotine heavy on his tongue. He exhales, obscuring himself from her even more.

“How did you find me?” Honestly, though, he knows. He’d left clues. He’d thought Neal would be the one to find him. But it was Rachel standing here before him, eyes stormy and fists clenched. Demanding an explanation for his faked death and a year living in the shadows. Ghosting his sweethearts in a way they didn’t deserve but was entirely necessary. “just couldn’t take the hint that I wanted t’be left alone, or what?”

[caffeineandspite]

@theseourbodiesrp

He grins at her insult, though it cuts right through him. sticks and stones may break my bones, but your words’re gonna destroy me. He inhales, easy, projecting that Bogart energy like it’s gonna save him from having to face her. but Lauren Bacall never took shit from ol’ Bogie, onscreen or off, and Rachel is cut from the same cloth.

If you know where he is makes all the air go out of his lungs. Why doesn’t she know where Neal is? What does she mean? His eyes narrow and he drops his cigarette into a convenient half-empty glass. The plan was for him to disappear, but Neal was supposed to circle back for her. Or at least that’s what Keller expected.

“Couldn’t. Peter, but also his wife. y’know? ‘Less we were both dead, she’d never let it go.” Now his voice isn’t bluff; now he’s not teasing her. now it’s just honesty, raw and painful in a way it’s never been between them. “Whaddaya mean about Neal, sweetheart? didn’t he… didn’t he get you? Isn’t he with you?”

He drops the cigarette and it’s like he’s giving in, but his smile isn’t real and there’s pain that’s flashing behind his eyes. They always did know just where each other’s soft spots were. 

“I know that,” she snaps, all venom and hurt. It’s a year’s worth of torture, of not knowing, of empty beds and cold nights, no matter the temperature. But the way he speaks, it hits her between the ribs. He almost sounded vulnerable, and Matthew fuckin’ Keller was anything but vulnerable. She realizes this has been a year of torture for him too, and she reaches for him, puts her hand on his cheek. “You could’ve told me. I would’ve gone with you.”   For a moment, she’s confused. Why’s he playing with her like this? Of course, he knows where Neal is, that’s got to be the plan, but... Isn’t he with you? echoes against her skull and for the first time she thinks maybe she’s made a horrible mistake. She thought Neal and Keller were together--or at least in contact. But the way Matt’s talking, some part of the plan didn’t work out. Didn’t he get you?

She leans closer to him, instinctually seeking his comfort, because her stomach’s gone cold. “Neal’s been gone this entire time too,” she says, a little hoarse, because what’s happened to him? Surely he wouldn’t desert them both. “He never came for me. I never heard a word. Are you saying he was supposed to?”

[theseourbodiesrp]

"How could you do this?" ((-slides into askbox for any chara from witch or human rachel jUST RP WITH ME))

Matt squints at her through a screen of smoke, one corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. The cigarette smoke burns at the back of his throat, the nicotine heavy on his tongue. He exhales, obscuring himself from her even more.

“How did you find me?” Honestly, though, he knows. He’d left clues. He’d thought Neal would be the one to find him. But it was Rachel standing here before him, eyes stormy and fists clenched. Demanding an explanation for his faked death and a year living in the shadows. Ghosting his sweethearts in a way they didn’t deserve but was entirely necessary. “just couldn’t take the hint that I wanted t’be left alone, or what?”

[caffeineandspite]

“Liar.” The word burns her throat like bile, because truth has always been their game. Now he’s standing there like some kind of character from one of his beloved old movies, smoking his cigarette and lying. To her. He doesn’t want to know how she found him and he didn’t want to be left alone. She knows because she’s seen him, seen him in places he only really visited by himself. And he’s good enough that if he didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. She’d be left stranded, heartbroken and tempest tossed, with no outlet for her grief or rage or pain. 

“Do you know? About Neal?” She’s aggressive, taking a step toward him, her voice hard because her heart isn’t. If he looks at her in that way, she’ll collapse under the weight of it all. First Matt, then Neal. Both of them gone. Eight million people in the city and it felt like a ghost town. Like all the air had left. Peter tried consoling her, comforting her, reasoning with her, but she wouldn’t hear it. Rachel held on to her belief, because she couldn’t cope with them both being dead. It was destruction on a molecular level her soul could not abide.

“If you know where he is...” She stops, shaking her head, and barks out a bitter laugh. “Of course you do. You’ve probably known this entire time. Jesus Christ, Matt, what were you thinking? That I’d just believe the smartest men I’d ever known fell victim to each other?” Another step, and she’s inches from him, lost in that grey cloud of smoke, but her eyes pin him in place. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

[jonny-august]

White Collar season4-(9)

“Welcome back, Nick. The FBI requires your services.”

[caffeineandspite]

@swallowedglass​:  

“That’s not it, I’m just…worried about you, is all.”

Worried about her? Was she so out of touch with regular human emotions that she’d failed to recognize concern? It wouldn’t be that surprising. Few people saw past her carefully crafted mask, and she was always on the look out for something worse. Deceit. Aggression. Danger. In her own way, she supposed she was a profiler too. It’d been a mistake to let Reid get this close.

But it was a mistake her heart yearned for. Her invisible life was populated with scores of people, but none of them really knew her. Then she’d met Hotch, and through him, Reid, and now there were people who were concerned about her and suddenly she realized just how deep the water was below her. She’d gone so far from shore.

“I’m fine,” she said automatically, but it rang hollow, and she knew someone like him would see right through it. She worked to come up with a lie, a deflection, something, but the words wouldn’t come. 

“You think I don’t have control,” she said. “I’ve played this game for a long time. What do you think you see that I don’t?” 

[soulbranded]

@theseourbodiesrp​:

His hand clenched on the lighter at her question. A sharp smile curved his lips as his eyes moved away from her.

“Who are you really, and what were you before? What did you do and what did you think, huh?” He was quoting from Casablanca, evading her question. The next line was Ilsa’s, of course; it’s a flashback scene, of a happier time for the two of them. He and Neal and Kate had watched that goddamn movie over and over in the long hot days and sultry nights of their summer in Spain and France. Kate had said Rick should have gotten on the plane, too, or else Ilsa and Laszlo should have stayed and helped run Rick’s. Love triangles are so boring, she complained. But she loved that fucking movie, the tragedy of Rick and ilsa’s love, the noble selflessness of Victor Laszlo.

He suddenly wonders if Ilsa and Laszlo’s plane ever touched down. Or if it reached a tarmac somewhere and then went up in flames just when they thought they were safe. If Rick had ever recovered. He let out an attempt at a laugh, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

“I lost everyone I ever loved,” he said, surprising himself with his own honesty. “I got nothing left to lose ‘cept my own life.” That’s not entirely true: Neal’s in New York. Neal hates him, but at least the kid is alive. He lifted the whiskey to his lips again, letting it burn through him so he didn’t have to think about that. He glanced at her, eyes flashing.

“Y’want the whole tragic backstory already? Y’move fast. We ain’t even slept together yet. You gotta have at least five orgasms before I tell you all that, sorry. I don’t make the rules, I just live by ‘em.” But he grinned at her again, boyishly sweet. He doesn’t mean it, not really. She just got a touch too close; for no reason at all, he’s within an inch of telling her about Katie and Neal and Spain. 

No, not for no reason. He likes  her. 

Fuck.

She tilted her head as he quoted the movie. It stirred something in her memory, something from better days. Sitting on the couch in her parents’ home, eating popcorn, teasing her brother. Who was that girl? Had that ever really been her or was it just a dream? 

His honesty surprised her, and that’s a rare thing these days–both the honesty and the surprise. Her life is lies and deception, and she’d grown skilled at anticipating people’s responses. Her life often depended on it. But there’s a rawness to what he’s saying, a brutal vulnerability, and it was so unexpected for that for a moment she was speechless. Just sipped at her drink and listened to him try to cover it up with jokes about sex, only he can’t. He can’t take back that raw honesty, that genuineness that let her glimpse past the mask. And the jokes aren’t as pointed as before. They’re not designed to knock her off balance. He’s diving for cover and maybe he’s hoping she didn’t hear it. But it had left his lips and sailed straight through her armor, into the place where she kept her own rawness. 

Had she lost everything she’d ever loved? Had she ever loved anything at all? It was so hard to remember now. Maybe she’d just lost everything, loved or not. Maybe she’d never had it in the first place. 

“I guess I just wanna know what game we’re playing,” she said finally, and she smiled. She should’ve found him crude, been annoyed at his vulgarity. But something in her recognized something in him, and now she couldn’t unsee it. 

“Something tells me you’re good at chess. Always thinking five moves ahead. Doesn’t that ever get tiring?” She should know. She thinks the same way. 

[caffeineandspite]

swallowedglass:

“Y’know, I always pegged you for the kinky type, Doc. No wonder Mikey sticks around.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you love to know?” God, it’s like he was the walking definition of annoying. “How much longer am I going to have to endure you before you get to the point? Unlike you, I’m actually busy making a contribution to the world.” 

[caffeineandspite]

@theseourbodiesrp​:

He should get the fuck out of dodge. He knows who’s in his safehouse; he knows who’s been tracking him for months. His enemies had given up on him ages ago, and even Caffrey had finally accepted that Keller was dead. not Rachel, though; she’d search for him until her dying day. He could con everybody else in the world, but never her. she never knew when to quit. So he knew it was her in his house. Who else could it be? Who else had the audacity to follow his ghost to the ends of the earth? Who else would chase rumors and whispers until she got the truth? who else would confront him in his own house? nobody but the redheaded, hot-blooded heart of his heart. Nobody but Rachel Collins. 

And he knew he should leave her there, waiting in the dark. wondering where he was, and why he’d done it. He didn’t want to answer her questions. more to the point, though, it was dangerous for her to know for sure. It was better for him to be dead, or at least an elusive rumor. Safer. Easier.

But he’s lonely. He missed her. He missed Neal. He missed life and love and happiness. Now that she’s in his house, he’s too weak to let her go or disappoint her.  He’s tired of running. So he let himself in through back door and went to where she was waiting.

“I guess this makes you Orpheus, huh,” he said. even though the room is dark, he couldn’t help skulking in the shadows.  It seemed easier. “Finding me in the afterlife. Couldn’t just let me rest in peace.”

Her body stiffens at his voice. It’s involuntary. It’s a voice that’s echoed around her skull for months, a voice she’s longed for, a voice she’s hated for making her love it and then disappearing. And now it’s here, and he’s making some quip, because that’s how he is. Always building walls. Always tearing them down. 

He stays in the dark, like he’s afraid for her to see him, except he’s Matthew fuckin’ Keller and fear isn’t in his vocabulary. This is something else. Is it shame? Had she managed the impossible and shamed him? Or was it loneliness, exhaustion, longing--those feelings she knew so well they melted into her skin. 

“Peace?” Her voice is a little hoarse, like she hasn’t used it in a while. It’s like she’s finding it for the first time. She huffs, her brows knit. She doesn’t know this peace. She hasn’t known it for her entire life, except for some precious, fleeting moments. Moments he took away when he disappeared. 

“There’s no peace,” she says, her voice a little sharper. “And you were never resting. But there is this.” She gestures around her, to the safehouse, to herself. “There’s emptiness and lies. And no, I wouldn’t let you run away with that.” Her lip trembles, and she swallows against the lump in her throat. “How could you do this? How could you do this to me?” 

[caffeineandspite]

crawls out of a hole

so things were happening and life was hard and i’m like 5 months late with no starbucks so here’s the deal

i’m gonna reply to the threads i have. if you’re interested in continuing the thread, please reply! i’ll do my best not to make you wait another three months. If you wanna drop it, that’s cool too, just please let me know.

tagging relevant parties:

@theseourbodiesrp

@swallowedglass

[naturalhistorymuseums]

[rpmemesandmusings]

3 am sentence starters

“ why are you awake? “

“ i can’t sleep. “

“ go to bed already. “

“ i’m a being of pure power, i don’t need sleep. “

“ i’ve been running on 5 hour energy all day, there’s no stopping now. “

“ i’m. so. tired. “

“ i had a nightmare. “

“ it’s nothing, go back to bed. “

“ when’s the last time you slept? “

“ you’re clearly exhausted. why are you doing this to yourself? “ 

“ wake up. wake up. wake uuuuup. “

“ i’ll sleep when i’m dead. “

“ yawning doesn’t mean i’m tired! maybe i’m just bored by you telling me to go to sleep so much. “

“ is something wrong? “

“ i just need to finish what i’m doing, then i’ll sleep. “

“ you said you were about to go to bed two hours ago. c’mon, time’s up. “

“ is it okay if i sleep in your bed tonight? i’m kinda freaked out. “

“ stop bossing me around, you’re not my mom. i’ll go to sleep when i want to. “

“ you’re pouring coffee all over the counter. “ 

“ why are you making hot pockets at 3 am? “

“ i don’t care when you go to bed, but do you have to wake me up in the middle of the night with your loud music?! “

[caffeineandspite]

@theseourbodiesrp ;;

The edges of the postcard felt so sharp. Strange, for such a flimsy thing. Rachel turned it over and over in her hands, waiting for it to cut her. Maybe she just wanted her insides to match her outsides. 

Keller’s not dead.

The words had gone straight through her, more deadly than any bullet. Her organs were intact, and yet she was bleeding out. Bleeding out sadness, relief, anger, joy. For more than a year, she thought she’d lost them both. Neal had found her. Keller had stayed buried, but remained a ghost that wouldn’t keep to his grave. His memory was a stain on her soul, and now he was alive, and he hadn’t come for her? 

She almost crushed the postcard. It wasn’t hers to destroy, though. He’d sent it to Neal years ago, a taunt, a new move in his never-ending chess game. She’d swiped it because it was something Matthew had once touched, and then sent away. Like her. 

He’d evaded Russian mobsters, Interpol, the FBI--it helped when everyone thought you were dead. But Rachel was brilliant and determined and hurt, and she’d methodically stalked every rumor, every whisper that might’ve been him. It’d taken months. Now she was here, in a place that looked very much like him: pristine on the outside, but sparse behind closed doors. It was brutal and efficient, minimal furniture but an HK rifle in its bag in the corner and a stack of euros on a table against one wall. It was a criminal’s bolthole, and had been used recently. He had to return soon. He just had to.

[justoutherepoeting-blog]

I remember who I used to be before I became who I had to be to survive.

justoutherepoeting (via ironarmored)

[killerxkyle]

[caffeineandspite]

@versipellem ;;

It was a whim. She’d been buying stamps–itself a rare occurrence, because who mailed things these days?–when she saw the sign.

                                      Adopt A US Soldier                We are looking for volunteers to send care packages                to our brave men and women serving overseas. Please                help say thank you to our soldiers by volunteering today.

She’d tugged the little tab off with the sign-up information without even really knowing why, except that maybe she felt a little kinship with the soldiers. Her dad and brother were cops, and while they’d never been away for months at a time, she knew how important family was to keeping them grounded.

A couple days later, she got her assignment–a Sergeant Sean Callahan. She cooked up some almond brittle and buckeyes, and packaged them with some things she thought she might miss if she were abroad: Pop-Tarts, some iTunes gift cards, a six pack of Dr. Pepper, a package of Starbursts, and some beef jerky from her favorite rancher.

In it, she included a letter:

Dear Sean,

Is it okay if I call you Sean? Seeing as how this is a letter and you can’t really correct me, I’m just gonna roll with it.

I got your name from the Adopt-a-Soldier program. My name’s Rachel, and I live in New York City. I’m from Colorado though–I’m an emergency room resident physician at New York Presbyterian Hospital. The pay sucks and the hours are worse, but hey, it keeps me on my toes.

I packed a few things in this care package I thought you might like. If there’s anything in particular you want, please tell me and I’ll send it. I come from a family of cops, and I know it’s not quite the same, but I know how much it means to have some comforts from home.

I’m not sure what else to write. I like to read and running is my sanctuary. I have an older brother named Danny and a nephew named Jake. I’m a natural redhead, so watch out. What about you? If you want to write back, I’d love to hear from you. Stay safe out there.

Warmly,

Rachel.