about me -> hi, i'm sydney (you can call me syd if u like). full time yearner and emotional sadist. i write things on occasion. welcome to my sideblog for the pitt! i hope you enjoy your stay <3
rules ->
minors dni, this blog is 18+ only.
any sort of bigotry will not be tolerated and will result in an immediate report and block.
i only post my fics here and ao3. i do not consent to my fic being posted anywhere else. do not feed my works to any AI or AI engine.
my inbox is always open to yap or for requests, but please know i don't have the capacity to write every request i receive.
you should really get comfortable believing in love and magic and whimsy or you’ll continue to live a half-life for the rest of the time you have on earth
something something tipsy riding robby into oblivion, coming back from a dinner w samira and jack after having a bit too much wineee
(im tiosy as i write this so hopefukly it makes sense))!!
i fear that i have made this more soft than horny but 😭 i hope you like it thank you for sending it to me!!
dr robby x f!reader
content: 18+ mdni, alcohol, sexually explicit content, robby is so so soft and tender
You hiccuped, the keys tumbling from your hand and clattering to the floor.
You giggled, "Whoopsies."
You bent to scoop them back up, but your boyfriend behind you stopped you, with a hand to your shoulder, "I'll get them, sweetheart."
You were pretty tipsy, but still noted the fond amusement in his voice. Placed a hand on his back as he bent to grab the keys and then gently pushed you aside to get to the door.
"How many glasses did you have?" He asked, teasingly.
It had been a rare night out for the both of you, usually too tired to do anything other than lay on the couch with a movie.
But tonight, you'd managed to make it out of the house on a double date with Samira and Jack and Robby had volunteered to be the designated driver. You had taken the keys from him on the walk up to the house, insisting you could open the door yourself. But now he took over, immune to your pouting.
"I don't know," You sighed, "At least three."
He chuckled as he turned the door knob, pushing it open and past the threshold.
Quickly, you followed after, shoving him up against the wall, eliciting a surprised laugh from him, "What are you doin', honey?"
You kicked the door closed behind you and fumbled with the button on his jeans as you kissed up his neck, nibbling softly at his jaw, "Want you."
He sighed as you shoved your hand into his boxers, his soft cock twitching for you immediately as you reached for his balls, "Now?" He managed.
You nodded into his neck, "Right now, please."
It wasn't difficult to convince him, as it often wasn't. He had always been so easy for you, almost pliant, though you would never say it to him like that. Knew he would take it the wrong way, even if you adored it.
Soon enough, you straddled him as he laid back against the pillows, watching you in the low light of the bedside lamp. You rubbed your slick folds over his now hard cock, watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. You loved to watch how he reacted to you, nevermind the view of his bare chest below you, you could never get enough of him.
The alcohol was fading from you, but still had you feeling giddy as you sank down on him, the feel of him filling you up more intense than it usually was sober, the butterflies filling up your stomach quite suddenly.
You leaned over him to kiss him, chest to his chest as you ground your hips against him. You were vaguely aware of him swearing, confessing how much he loved you, helpless to your relentless rhythm.
"Fuck, feel so good, m'girl…pretty girl," He gripped your cheeks in his hand, forcing your eyes to look into his. You lost your cadence at their bottomless warmth, floored by the seemingly endless adoration there. In your pause, he gripped your hips and helped you to fuck him faster, until he was panting hard, falling apart just moments later.
Exhausted, you collapsed against his sweaty chest and closed your eyes as you listened to his heart beat begin to slow, no longer galloping.
"Come on, baby," He said eventually, "Let's get you in the shower."
"I don't wanna shower," You whined. Always curiously childlike when drunk, but still just as stubborn as always.
"Yes, you do. And you'll be upset with me in the morning if I don't make you now. So, come on." He said, gently steering you down the hallway and towards the bathroom, "I'll help."
True to his word, when Robby got in the shower with you, he grabbed your makeup eraser, wetting it before taking your chin between his fingers and wiping lightly over your face, "Close your eyes," He murmured.
You loved when he was soft like this, when he took care of you. Drunk as you were, the way he handled you, delicately, like you were something to be treasured, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.
When he was done, he kissed along your jaw to the sensitive spot just below your ear and you shivered, "Didn't think I forgot about you, did you?" He whispered as he slipped a hand between your legs.
You closed your eyes and leaned your head against the tile walls of the shower. Let yourself drown in the feel of his calloused fingers against your clit, the ecstasy of his tongue as it swirled around your nipples.
You came undone in what felt like moments and he smothered your moans with his mouth. He cooed sweet words in your ear as he cleaned you up and got you into bed, one of his soft, worn t-shirts over your body.
Easily, you drifted off, limbs wrapped around his body and his lips at the shell of your ear. You wouldn't remember his words the next morning, just that you could hear the love as it echoed into your dreams.
Apparently some people still need to hear this so: using an 'ai checker' is still using ai. If you are feeding someone's fic to one of these checkers, you will still not be sure their fic is ai because they are not 100% accurate, but you can be 100% sure that you are using ai. For fic. Furthermore you are doing the work of an ai scraper for them. You are, personally, feeding the machine. There is no actual excuse for using an ai checker on fanfic as a hobby. YOU are the problem.
If you think a fic is ai, mute it and move on. That's it. That's all you do.
okay so i will admit most of this went down on pitt twitter and i only lurk there i don't really tweet or anything but this lovely post by @hatosyscurls details what happened
basically this white author wrote a stereotypical latina character (jack's dead wife) and when she was called out for it blocked (and potentially harassed people according to other users here and here - open the threads)
i never talked to emily i don't know what kind of person she is in real life, but it seems like this is a classic case of a person showing problematic behaviour (racially biased writing) and rather than reflecting and correcting, instead ignored the problem. and when that didn’t solve anything it just erased and deflected instead of doing the work to unpack her bias.
i never acc read the fic when it was being published on ao3 but now that it's a book and knowing her past with stereotypes i want to read it as a desi woman to see how she writes samira because lord knows i have very low hopes (i get samira being a virgin is the whole point™️ of the story but it really feels like we're going to get some bad racial stereotypes about nerdy indian women or some shit)
(the stuff below this is going more into a personal rant about the publishing industry so feel free to ignore)
the romance industry is so fucking annoying these days. i like romance books and yet like80% of the shit posted post 2020 is just fanfic slop (obviously i am not shitting on fanfic lets be so explicitly clear rn) - stories that were good as fanfiction because they were fanfiction but once you try to sever the original story it doesn't stand alone.
like this is how the book is marketed from emily's own instagram/website
samira to AMARA
it's like she picked the first vaguely brown name and went "good enough"
this is literally mohabbot - not vaugley mohabbot, not "mohabbot but with a twist" just mohabbot
doctors
age gap
army vet
workaholics doctors - couldn't even make them veterinarians to give some distance
still not sure if this is official book art or if she just reposted mohabbot fan art and then got told by her team to take it down but this was on her website for a while
Sorry you said that you hate the character or huge narrative beat that is integral to the overall story. I think maybe you could just stop engaging in it if you are so mad as to tell someone that is clearly enjoying it that it is awful. Maybe your desires to look down or upset someone for not having the same disdain as you is a huge sign you need to step away from the media. Yeah. That’s not healthy bud.
i miss my sacraments reader and robby - what do you think they are up to these days??
oh my beloveds <3
i like to imagine married life is treating them very well. they are cozy in their dream home, fully renovated the way they always imagined. they have a dog, maybe a cat too. they host sleepovers for reader's nieces and nephews. eventually, after a few more relapses, tommy gets fully sober, mostly due to robby's tough love. he and reader begin to heal their relationship, but he'll always be a pain in her ass. eventually, reader's mother starts respecting her boundaries when she realizes that with robby's full support, she will cut her mother off if she keeps crossing them.
idk, it's not perfect. they still argue sometimes. old insecurities sometimes rear their heads again. but they know they'll get through it because they've gotten through much worse.
hiiiiii sydney *kicks feet* hope you are doing great, mwah <3
I wanted to ask if you would have any brainworms about robby and two of the prompts: “You’re standing too close.” and “Say we’re still just friends. Lie to me.”.
I think that the possible angst potential in the combination of both of those is quite strong (I also enjoy the two emotionally constipated losers dynamic, guilty)
have a wonderful day, xoxo
theo my beloved!! anything for you!! i hope this hits the angst spot <3
dr robby x f!reader
cw: emotionally constipated losers <3, angst w/ happy (?) ending, situationship, sexual themes
You couldn't say who had made the first move. One day, Robby had walked you home and you'd ended up with his lips on yours, hands fisted in his hair as he reached behind you to open your door and push you both inside.
He left the next morning before you woke and it wasn't spoken of. But he continued to "walk you home" for a few more consecutive nights. Until you were starting to have trouble sleeping when he wasn't in bed next to you and you woke to the bed shifting as he tried to sneak out without disturbing you.
Robby had always been a good friend to you. You had pulled him up off the ground more times than you could count and he had always done the same for you. But this was new and uncharted.
Dana and her husband were throwing a Fourth of July party at their house which was how you ended up sitting at the edge of a pool, legs dangling in the water as you nursed a beer. It happened often lately that your world tended to warp and narrow until you could only see him and that was definitely the case today as you watched him swim by you.
Although he hadn't said it, you knew he was self conscious of his body. Trying to distract you when you reached for the light switch after he'd taken off his shirt. Redirecting your hands when they lingered too long on the soft flesh of his middle. But today, he didn't seem to think about it much at all as he swam shirtless in the pool, smiling and joking with colleagues.
It took him a while before he noticed you, but once he had, he excused himself from the conversation and swam for you. He settled between your legs, rested his hands gently on your ankles.
"Come swim with me?" He asked sweetly, playful grin on his face.
The stares and giggles from your colleagues weren't lost on you as his fingers ghosted over your skin beneath the water.
"You're standing too close," You said softly and took a sip from your beer.
He largely ignored your words, kept his hands wrapped around your ankles, "It's hot, get in the water."
"Michael." You said sharply, something you only called him when you were chastising him.
But still, it did not deter him. He plucked your beer from your hand before gripping your hips and lifting you up and into the pool.
"People are staring," You said as calmly as you could, hands on his shoulders. Despite the scrutiny, you couldn't bear to pull away from him.
"We're friends," He said, but his eyes traveled down to your chest and lingered more than was appropriate, "Everyone knows we're friends."
"Right," You said, "And you'll be driving me home tonight?"
"Of course," He said, smirking, "What are friends for?"
That night, after Robby had made you come so hard there were tears in your eyes, you laid on his chest in the dark, his fingers lightly massaging your scalp.
The high from your orgasm combined with being tipsy off beer from earlier had you feeling brave, "Will you stay the night?"
He hummed, "'Course."
"And not leave before I wake up?"
He was quiet for a few moments, "You want me to stay? In the morning?"
"If… If you wanted."
You felt him pull away slightly from you and felt momentarily rejected until the light turned on. He'd pulled away from you to fumble with the lamp on your bedside table.
With the light illuminating the room you could see the fear in his eyes and in turn, you were frightened.
"You know that I… Greatly value our friendship," He said slowly and you felt the heat climb up your neck.
Humiliated, you stopped him, "Forget it," You rolled out of the bed and headed for the shower, "I think you should go, actually."
"Oh, come on," He pleaded, following after you, "Don't do that."
You reached behind the shower curtain to start the water, "No, you're right—"
"Right about what?" He snapped, "You didn't let me finish my thought."
You rolled your eyes, "Oh, so you weren't about to clarify that we're just friends and it should stay that way, that staying until the morning, having coffee and breakfast together is too intimate for your liking?"
He scoffed and shook his head, "Do you disagree?"
Oh, it stung. Granted, you understood. You didn't want to lose him either, didn't want to be just another woman he got tired of, that he decided wasn't worth his effort. It was better to keep each other at a respectable distance.
"No," You said, swallowing thickly, "Which is why I think we should stop doing this."
He mouth opened in a silent O, brow furrowed for a moment as he processed what you said, "You mean…" He said slowly, "Completely?"
"Yes," You said without looking at him as you climbed into the shower, "The boundaries are getting too blurry, it's probably for the best to just… cut it off."
You pulled the curtain shut and hoped he'd simply leave, but he pulled the curtain aside, "Is that what you want?"
You sighed, "Robby—"
"I'm just confused we were having a good night and because I said I don't want be around in the morning, now we can't do any of it?"
He seemed almost panicked as he spoke and you frowned, "Why are you getting so worked up?"
"I'm not," He huffed, "I just—I—I really like spending time with you like this, I just—"
"You just what?" You threw up your hands, exasperated, "Don't like it enough to look at me in the light of the morning? I mean, Christ, Robby how do you think that makes me feel?"
He sighed, "That's not how I meant it."
"How else could I have possibly taken it?" You pulled the shower curtain closed again, "Please, just, go home, Robby."
He stood there for a few more moments before you heard him walk away. A few minutes later you heard the sound of your front door opening and closing and exhaled heavily.
Tried again and again as you finished your shower and got ready for bed to convince yourself you'd done the right thing.
You didn't want to lose him as a friend.
So why did it feel like you'd lost him anyway?
The next few days at work were painfully stilted. Robby reaching for casual touches only to pull back at the last minute. No playful banter during quiet moments, but a man who refused to be in the same space as you.
"What's up with you and Robby?" Jack asked, barely looking up from his computer until he felt your blistering stare on his back.
"What?" He said, finally straightening, "The two of you were awful cozy on the Fourth. You didn't think anyone'd notice?"
You locked your jaw and turned away from him, watched Robby longingly across the way instead as he pulled on a pair of gloves and spoke to a patient.
"Do you think he's capable of a healthy relationship?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself.
You were too afraid to look at him, but the silence was enough to suggest you'd surprised him.
There was a slow exhale at your side, "I don't know. Maybe. If it was the right person."
Your eyes burned and you tore them away from him, turning to the computer to resume charting. Obviously, you weren't the right person or he would've stayed until morning.
"Hey," Jack said, leaning over your monitor. He waited patiently for you to meet his eyes, "For what it's worth, if I were to hedge my bets on who could make an honest man out of Michael Robinavitch, it would be you."
You shook your head dismissively, "Do you make it a habit to bet on losing dogs?"
He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder as he passed, "Chin up, kid. He'll come around."
It went like this for weeks and still, he could barely look you in the eyes.
Until finally, he followed after you as you began walking home from work.
"Is this how it's gonna be from now on?"
You looked at him frowning, "What are you talking about? You've been the one avoiding me."
He scoffed, "I thought that was what you wanted."
You huffed in frustration, "What I wanted was for you to stay in the morning."
Abruptly, he stepped in front of you, blocking your path so that you barrelled straight into his chest.
"Why does this feel like a breakup?" He asked, his voice small and breathless as if he were afraid of the answer.
You looked up into his face for the first time in weeks and you simmered under the heat of his gaze.
You shook your head, "I don't know." Consciously or unconsciously, you tilted your face towards his. He was close enough that you could smell the nicotine gum on his breath.
He exhaled slowly, eyes darting rapidly from your mouth to your eyes and back again.
"Say we're still just friends," He murmured, "Lie to me."
Your heart hammered in your chest. Be brave it seemed to say, ricochetting rapidly against your ribs.
"I don't wanna lie anymore." You said softly, barely a whisper.
He stared at your face for a few moments before bringing his hands up to cradle your face. Your eyelids fluttered closed at his gentle touch, the callouses of his fingers soft on your cheeks.
"Neither do I," He said against your lips before kissing you, his cadence fevered and frenzied.
You groaned, partially in surprise and partially in pleasure as he licked into your mouth, your hands knotting themselves in his scrub top.
After what felt like ages, but was actually probably moments, he pulled away, both of you breathless.
"Can I… Take you home?" He asked.
"Will you stay in the morning?"
He nodded eagerly, "Think I might wanna stay forever, if you'll let me."
You felt the hot flush climb up your neck and you tried to stifle the giddy feeling in your chest, "One day at a time, Robinavitch," Then you slipped your hand into his, "Take me home."
oh theo you’re so kind 🥺 i so so appreciate you and i’m over the moon that you liked it!! <3 thank you for being so sweet as always!! (PS- mitski 4ever 🙂↕️)
admittedly i really enjoyed mike flanagan’s haunting of hill house but it cannot really be called an adaptation like all he did was take some of the character names and everything else is wildly different. it’s so far from the source material you can’t even call it fanfiction. they are completely separate stories and i enjoy them separately but with the note that to anyone with eyes it’s insane to call it an adaptation. i don’t understand why this man is allergic to just… saying it’s a different thing. the fuck of it all really is that most of the people i know who enjoyed hill house (tv show) have never read the novel. so i am confused as to why he felt the need to associate the two at all.
that said…. that man should go to jail for what he’s about to do to carrie honest to god… and people know carrie better than hill house i would venture to say… so i fear he is about to be excommunicated from the genre permanently and he will deserve it!!!
It’s vitally important that people remember that no matter how many followers someone has on here they’re still literally just some person with a blog and not, like, The Authority on anything.
