Just made a patreon and my first post is the full from my latest post on here:) ALSO! be warned that it is nsfw, maybe not straight up explicit but if you're under 18 or in public maybe don't interact thanks
(Also also, rn it's free and idk when or if that will change)
as an actual book reader, i read the adventures of huckleberry finn long before the pitt came out.
obviously, hearing the reference, i was mega excited. so as i started shipping hucklerobby more and more, i kept thinking on any possible links between the book and the ship.
now, huckleberry’s love interest is mary jane wilkins. a red-headed woman, much like amy.
an article from 1948 states the homoerotic nature of huckleberry and jims relationship.
instead of traditional romance or sexual development, the novel explores themes of gender performance, intense homosocial male bonding; seen as homoerotic, such as the ship we all love.
hucklerobby may never become canon, but little references like these can be really important to decipher the relationship between michael robinavitch and dennis whitaker.
There are a lot of men like Andrew in Broken Bow, Nebraska. Men whose anger simmers constantly just beneath their skin until it boils over into violence. Men who were told their entire lives, since they were little boys, that the only acceptable way to express yourself is through destruction. Men whose child-selves are kept preserved in a dark, locked room in their chests, peering out at the world in wide-eyed terror.
Despite their differences Dennis does think his father did pretty well raising them, all things considered. Even so, his eldest brother’s ex-wife has a restraining order against him and the third eldest is back to drinking after getting fired for punching a coworker on a job site. Again.
Maybe that’s part of the reason Dennis likes Andrew so much. He reminds him of home.
(angst, the looming threat of violence, a meltdown, a homophobic slur)
A lot of the time, Andrew just looks scary. He can be so gentle, even when, as so often happens, his expression doesn’t quite match his behavior. He dotes on Dennis in his way, ready to drop whatever he’s doing at a moment’s notice to help him run errands or do maintenance around the apartment so they don’t have to call their asshole property manager. Even Trinity is starting to tolerate him after he changed the catalytic converter in her car for free. He fusses over Dennis, likes to pick him up from work if he can’t get a ride with Trinity because he doesn’t want him taking the bus home late at night.
He likes to rest his head in Dennis’s lap, let the other man run his fingers through his curls. His eyes light up any time Dennis thanks him or says he’s done a good job. He knows each of Amy’s cows by name, remembers little details about them and talks about them even when they’re not on the farm. He’s always happy to help kids learn new things at the skate park, is known there as someone to ask for help even if it means acting as a handrail for a total newbie for hours. There is a part of him that is so gentle and kind and empathetic.
Even so, Dennis knows that he has a criminal history that includes assault and battery, that he’s done time for armed robbery. Also, reading between the lines, that between his prison sentence and whatever other bad behavior, things were so bad he couldn’t keep custody of his daughter even after his wife bailed on them. Dennis does truly believe that Andrew’s turning his life around, but he’s not totally naïve. One day, that other side of Andrew will reveal itself.
It happens on a Wednesday. Dennis needed a ride to the county courthouse to renew his concealed carry permit, and for whatever reason Andrew insisted on accompanying him inside despite his whole thing about law enforcement. Dennis was just trying to submit some very routine paperwork at the Allegheny County sheriff’s office, but somehow it took them like 45 excruciating minutes under flickering fluorescent lights because they’re having a problem with their scanner and he really didn’t need Andrew skulking behind him, mean-mugging the front desk lady for no discernible reason except maybe some macho posturing bullshit.
“Can you please stop whatever it is you think you’re doing?” Dennis hisses at him as they leave. “You’re freaking people out.”
Andrew just kind of growls, and Dennis has to take a deep, grounding breath to soothe his rising irritation.
In retrospect, they should’ve gone straight home from there, but there’s nothing to eat at Andrew’s apartment so they stop at Giant Eagle. It’s 6 pm, and busy. They’re both scowling at the looming palisade of pasta sauces when some dude bumps into Andrew, who immediately shifts into a fucking boxing stance like he’s gonna, what, get into a goddamn fist fight in the grocery store?
“Andrew! Are you fucking kidding me right now?!”
Andrew whirls around. He’s snarling, shoulders up by his ears. His fists are clenched, the veins in his forearms bulging. He kind of looks like an apex predator and kind of looks like a toddler revving up to have a screaming tantrum. It’s fucking embarrassing, to be honest. They somehow manage to get through the rest of the errand without further incident but a heavy, brooding storm cloud gathers over both of them and the ride home is silent and miserable.
Dennis holds his tongue until they’re inside Andrew’s house. “Seriously, what is your issue today?”
Andrew has his back to Dennis, putting the groceries away. There’s an effervescent passive-aggressiveness in the way he slams the cupboard doors that makes Dennis’s teeth hurt. “I don’t have an issue.”
“Oh, come the fuck on. Look at me.”
Andrew sort of turns towards him but he’s glaring at the floor, slouched with his back against the counter like he’s trying to hide from his boyfriend’s assessing gaze.
“Did I do something?”
“No.”
“Did something happen?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Jesus Christ, Andrew, use your words!”
Andrew pushes himself off the counter so abruptly that Dennis flinches back. He’s got his hands in his hair, pulling at it hard with his fists, takes a few stomping paces, stops, doubles over. It’s like he has so much pent-up energy his whole body is short circuiting, throwing him into strange, writhing shapes. He throws his arm over his grimacing face, hits his forehead with his fist a few times, takes another step. Dennis tries to give him space but he has to dodge a little as the bigger man throws himself around the cramped kitchen.
“Whoa, Andrew—it’s okay—"
“I don’t fucking know! I feel bad!”
“It’s okay, baby. What do you mean, you feel bad?”
“Just bad! It feels bad! It’s really fucking bad!”
Dennis has no earthly idea what that means. “Bad” could mean pretty much anything, but the effort of spitting out even just that one indecipherable word seems to have shaken more than a few screws loose in Andrew’s brain. He’s dropped to the ground, slumped against the sink cabinet, his face in his hands. He’s still for a second and then he starts hitting himself in the forehead again with a closed fist, hard.
Dennis crouches down beside him, tries to gently grab his fist in both of his hands.
“Hey, baby, hey, you’re okay—”
Andrew wretches his fist from Dennis and smashes it into the cabinet. “Don’t touch me! Fuck off with that faggot shit!”
Dennis’s brothers, despite all their faults, did their best to look out for him. Beyond being the youngest, he was always the smallest, and the most sensitive, and the one who never quite fit in with other boys. Frankly, there was always something kind of gay about him, and the bullying started in earnest in sixth grade. Of course Dennis has complicated feelings about it now, given that Cody and especially Lowell still sometimes resort to violence with terribly mixed results, but he’ll always be grateful to his brothers for sticking up for him even though all three of them got suspended that one time for breaking that kid’s arm. They never even seemed to care if he was really gay or not, just insisted that he learn how to defend himself. They taught him how to throw a punch properly, and also that if you’re small, it’s very important to go absolutely apeshit so you freak ‘em out and they don’t want to fuck with you anymore.
It took a few fights but eventually nobody tried to shove Dennis around anymore. He still didn’t have many friends because everyone thought he was a psycho after he walloped Colton Blomquist in the head with a lunch tray, but it was better than getting jumped walking home from the bus stop.
Which is to say, there is a long moment where Dennis considers decking Andrew in the face.
But he’s a fucking adult, so he takes a deep breath. Counts to three. Stands.
When he finally speaks, his voice is icy. “If you ever speak to me that way again, we’re fucking done. Get your shit together.”
As he leaves, he hears the hollow clatter of Andrew hitting the cabinet again and again and again until it splinters.
Dennis has just spent the last of his money at some run down motel in the middle of nowhere. he doesn't know where he is, his phone is almost dead and now he's got no money to travel to the closest city. coming to terms with the fact that hitchhiking may be his only option, he sets off on foot in hopes a kind stranger will give him a lift.
he walks for what feels like hours but when be checks his phone, it's only be an hour. he can feel his skin starting to burn and his eyes are sore from the dry air. tears burn his eyelids as he feels the weight of frustration at the situation he's landed himself in.
suddenly, a vehicle approaches in the distance and Dennis feels a glimmer of hope. the vehicle becomes clearer as it comes closer to Dennis; a standard SUV, nothing crazy. this might be his rescue. he waves the car down and his heart races when the cars blinker comes on followed by it pulling over. Dennis can see two men in the front seats, both quite handsome if he had to be honest.
he walks up the drivers side as the window rolls down. the man introduces himself as Jack and that he's with his partner, Michael. Jack happily lets Dennis hitch a ride when he explains his situation, "a pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out here all alone." Dennis isn't sure he hears that right but smiles nonetheless. he's certain these kind strangers will get him to the closest town.
Jack asks Dennis more questions and makes small talk to pass the time, Michael joining in the conversation every now and then. they told Dennis they were on a little roadtrip as they had a couple days off work. when dennis hears that they're doctors, he mentions he has a headache in hopes they have some pain relief. of course they have some on them at all times and Dennis is ever so greatful when they give him some water as well.
the seat Dennis is sitting in feels so comfortable and he's feeling so relaxed. he's so glad these lovely strangers picked him up. whoever told him that hitchhiking was dangerous is wrong. he's just met two men who are doctors for god sake, they are harmless.
time passes as Dennis leans his head on the window, feeling floaty as he watches the world go by. his mouth is a little dry but he doesn't think much of it. one of the men say something to him but it sounds distant; muffled. his goes to sit up straight but he feels dizzy and a little nauseas. ah, maybe he was just car sick.
he feels like he's sinking further into the seat, his eyesight becoming blurry. what's happening? his heart races as he tries to come back to earth but the feeling is getting worse. he looks up and can just make out one of the men, Michael, looking back at him with a soft smile on his face.
"do you think he's feeling it? he looks dazed and confused... it must be kicking in."
LITERALLY HOLY DOUBLE TRIPLE FUCK THIS IS AMAZING I AM ABSOLUTELY GOBSMACKED THANK YOU??? THANK YOU ONE FREAKING MILLION???? THIS IS AMAZINGGG IM SO FLATTERED AND IMPRESSED WOWOWOOW IM SCREAMINGGGGGG OMG!!!!!
YIPPIEEEEEEEPEIEE YAY OMG ILL NEVER GET OVER THIS!!! THANK YOU SOOO MUCH (EMPHATICALLY SOBBING)
I'm so happy you like it omgg I reread both twice now they're just so amazing I couldn't not draw something from them! I would've written a long love letter in the comments on AO3 but I am a better artist than writer bah. Also please get over it soon as I plan to draw more lmao😅 Your fics are genuinely among my favorite rn
(PS I'm shocked there aren't more 'nonconsensual drug use' hucklerabbot and I was soo happy to see that in LoD so thank YOU for such beautiful fics!)
can't stop thinking about the concept of robby getting home from sabbatical dead dog tired, the middle of the night. jamming his keys in his door. toeing off his boots at his entrance after he shuts the door behind him, not bothering to really put them aside. shrugging his coat off to the floor.
padding to his bedroom, just wanting to pass out for the night, for forever, maybe. if he should be so lucky. stripping to his boxers on the way, grunting a little as he steps out of his jeans, leaving a trail of dirty laundry he just can't be assed about. he never used to be messy. that came with the burnout.
but in his bed, curled up and breathing soft, is a bundle of warm dennis whitaker. looking sweet, looking peaceful, painfully domestic. if robby was a good man, he'd quietly back out of the room, go sleep on the couch, let the mouse awkwardly squeak his way out of the house in the morning. but robby hasn't considered himself a good man in a long time, and he wants his comfortable mattress, and he can't pretend he doesn't like the fact that his favorite intern is on top of it.
so he lifts up the covers, shuffles underneath with a sigh, watches lazily as dennis stirs a little, yawns. cute. the air conditioner hums, a quiet white noise, too quiet for robby's taste. there's a nightlight plugged into the wall that's not his, making the room glow softly orange, just enough to be cozy, just enough to not be dark. he wonders if the kid is scared of the dark. he watches as blue eyes peek open, bleary in the dim light, and find his.
dennis must be as tired as him, exhausted, because he doesn't react. not in any startled manner, not in the way robby was expecting. the kid's usually so jumpy around him, wide-eyed, even months later, even with that new edge of confidence robby can't help but enjoy. but not tonight. his voice is a little raspy as he asks s'this a dream? and his only response is a soft hum when robby tells him no, whitaker, I'm afraid not.
are you okay? wasn't the follow-up that robby expected, but it makes sense, from earnest, sweet whitaker. whitaker who worries too much about him, but it doesn't make robby feel particularly special— the kid worries about everyone. wants to help everyone. robby, at best, is an interesting case. haven't been in a long time, kid, is his honest reply, and he's not sure why he doesn't lie to him. maybe it's because dennis is being so intimately normal, so weirdly easy to be around. maybe it's because he's tired of saying "I'm fine."
dennis is a little hesitant in his movements. ginger and careful, cuddling up to robby's side, laying his cheek on robby's chest. skin against skin, robby remembers his discarded shirt, and is pervertedly glad for it. dennis's cheek is soft. the contact is warm, impossibly nice. dennis's arm comes up to lay itself around robby's waist, the boy snuggling closer, huffing out a breath like an exhausted little puppy. robby is endeared. he's always fucking endeared by this kid. he's stopped trying not to be.
normally he'd feel like crying. or he'd start to spiral, overthink. maybe he should. maybe he should force himself to face why the hell this is so easy, why the hell this domesticity that he's been craving his entire life came to him tonight, this random fucking night, in the form of an intern he should not be laying in bed with. but robby is tired. and sleep tugs him under easier than it has in years, warm in his bed, not alone, not alone, not alone. dennis's breaths brush softly across his skin. robby is hopelessly and stupidly attached.
Ohh the attention to detail of Robby looking absolutely Dead Inside in his attending ID pic because it would have been taken when he was promoted immediately after Adamson’s death
I was bored so here's angel!hucklerobby. Dennis is based off of traditional Christian angels and Robby is off of Jewish angels (specifically Yechezkiel's description)
