learn to accept it.

ind. multimuse by dio

[enduresit]

a highly selective, mutuals only writing blog featuring characters from animal kingdom, the pitt, ted, lasso, etc. due to the content presented in various shows, heavy and triggering themes will be explored in various depths, including death, gore, medical procedures, ptsd, abuse, mental health issues, etc. written by dio, he/they, 25+. also found @pittvet

01. guidelines 02. muse list. 03. inbox memes. 04. in character. 05. starter calls.

[enduresit]

okay, oomfs, i'm finally catching a reasonable break from work and life duties, so i intend to be here this weekend. primary focus is going to be getting some starters done that i've owed for a while now (deeply sorry, genuinely), and maybe whittling down my inbox over here.

[tonksxmagicalxroleplayxmemes]

[mctrouble]

"I have no idea--" she really doesn't even know where her answer had come from, her suggestion about how to take care of the baby or that she might feel unsafe. trinity doesn't consider herself good with babies by any means. in fact, probably the opposite. trinity wouldn't trust something so fragile in her fucked up hands. but somehow, she'd gotten baby jane doe to calm down just a few days ago, and that was on nothing but instinct and fear. something that pushes her now when she gathers her tihings, a little exasperation in her energy as she finds shoes, keys, a hoodie and makes her way to her car.

the list of people she'd get up and come help on a dime is small, limited to only whitaker most of the time, but there's something fragile and samira's voice, in the wailing baby in the background that has her moving faster, into her car, out the gate of her apartment building. "i still can't believe you took home a baby," she's incredulous again, and then soft--"yes i can. it makes sense" and then even softer. "Just breathe, Samira. Crying can't hurt her. I'm on my way."

[enduresit]

the reassurance sent her way is something she knows. logically. they tell it to parents often enough. crying can't hurt them. it's okay to take a break for a few minutes to reset and reapproach. but it feels like it does. a special type of failure, having had to let jane cry alone in the bassinet tucked next to samira's bed, in the tears that sting her own eyes from frayed nerves. in the fact that she has to call trinity for help. in the fact she cannot call her mother to help when she should have been the first person samira could turn to. ( but that has long been in the past. sometimes, uncharitably, she thinks that her mother was never there for her. )

she forces herself to take some deep breaths like trinity instructed. in, out, repeat. in, out, repeat. pushing open the door, the wailing once more hits her full force. crossing the small room, she decides first to put in her airpods so that she doesn't have to hang up. ( she's not going to look into the fact it's soothing to hear, beneath the crying, the sound of trinity's journey on the other end of the phone. ) she tracks down a clean baby blanket, spreads it out on her bed, and folds the top corner down. "it's okay, baby," samira murmurs to jane as she returns to the bassinet. another quick scrubbing of her eyes before she reaches down to pick her up. "we've got help coming, you know? that's why i stepped out. i'm not abandoning you, sweetheart." she places jane down on the blanket and proceeds to swaddle her once more. neatly, professionally. maybe a hair tighter than before, trinity's suggestion still fresh that she wants to feel safe. the wailing doesn't slow, even as samira cradles her and bounces gently with each step as she paces through her apartment. "you'll like her. you did like her a few days ago. it's going to be okay... how long will it take you to get here, trinity?"

[enduresit]

WHICH APOCALYPSE ARE YOU?

The Falling Stars

You are the final beauty. A meteor shower that rains down like a barrage of bullets, fatally stunning. The last curtain call before everything goes dark, a reminder to humanity that it's not just them. That they may have conquered Earth but they will never conquer Space

tagged by: @mctrouble tagging: you all

[puppiegracie]

nosiest duo ever in the world

[enduresit]

and you know who has a second phone just to house 941 books? samira mohan, that's who.

[enduresit]

found my old phone I use for books and my multi, so now no one is safe from me posting misc shit about characters on here as the thoughts occur to me.

[enduresit]

samira: rumor has it you're trying to baby trap dr. santos.

for a moment, she can't seem to catch her breath, so neatly does the accusation slide between her ribs. how does she even begin to explain? it had been a desperate hail mary the first time she'd called trinity for help with baby jane. and she is trinity, now. the formal, detached honorific of dr. santos in samira's mind no longer. she's not quite sure when that happened, only that it has happened. maybe that first time she'd seen trinity press her lips against baby jane's forehead and had cradled her so gently, as if she'd been scared of her own hands. or maybe one of the many times she'd fallen asleep with the baby against her chest and woken to find trinity still there on the couch next to them, instead of gone back to her own place. or maybe — fuck, she is baby trapping trinity, isn't she?

"no, i would never expect trin — dr. santos to stay with me like that. we aren't — i mean, she has that relationship with garcia." except, samira hasn't heard anything about that lately. oh god, did she ruin that for trinity? "i'm not trying to baby trap her. she's just being a good friend. and it's temporary. i'm not... i'm fostering." @mctrouble

[enduresit]

rumor has it samira is sleeping with doctor robby to win his favor back.

it's hurt that steals over her expression as the words strike her somewhere between the ribs. she could handle the remarks about her speed, the nickname that plagues her every shift — even the really good ones. but this? "i would never. you think that i care about winning robby's favor back? i've never had it." and doesn't that hurt the most? that she's always been second choice, that she never got to have robby as the kind of mentor langdon had, that whitaker and javadi in particular currently have. "there's nothing for me to win back. so, no. i'm not sleeping with my fucking boss."

[enduresit]

rumor has it that there's a lot more going on between you and dr al-hashimi than either of you are letting on

he supposes it should be no surprise that the rumor mill has settled on his and baran's life — lives, he's quick to remind himself mentally. not that the correction matters for a thought. not that anything he says here and now is likely to make an impact beyond encouragement to continue circulating those rumors. he hopes, more than he should, that they don't get back to jack or dana. it's not that he's embarrassed. ( okay, there is some amount of embarrassment — shame really — that inherently comes with finding out he has a five year old child that he knew nothing about because he'd been so absent during his and baran's relationship. ) but this thing between him and baran... selfishly, he wants to keep it to himself. wants it to be theirs and only theirs. what jack and dana don't know won't kill them. "that would be because there is nothing to let on. i am capable of being just friends with the people i work with, you know, despite what other rumors say about me." @bydana

[seventeenthya]

mohantos after hours

sometimes all you need after a 12-hour shift with a clinically depressed, suicidal boss is cuddling in bed with your girl, having lazy lesbian sex, and watching one million stupidest tiktoks imaginable together

[thereverie25]

The way he opens the door for her 😆

[mctrouble]

the world keeps going. that's the thing trinity santos has learned more times than she can count. no matter how bad a day is, a shift, a week, a year, a life. the world doesn't ask, and it doesn't stop. there are no breaks, no acknowledgements. no one passes out endurance awards or participation trophies for just making it through that one alive. so the world's worst fourth of july comes and goes--and takes everything else with it. whitaker. garcia. the peace of work without langdon. safety.

she makes it through the next few days like a ghost. or a solider. or whatever soulless things keeps going when their skull is caving in. the obviousness of her boiling over emotions wears away with the exhaustion and she's back to work like she's normal, like it's just july sixth or seventh or whatever day. and she keeps going. but the last thing trinity expects is to get a frantic call from samira mohan. at first it catapults her heart into her throat, like something must be wrong based on the other woman's voice, but then she hears it. the real reason. and she's a little disappointed whitaker's not around to see whatever insane look crosses her face. "you took home a fucking baby?" it's not gentle. or even subtle. trinity shakes her head, already gathering herself off the couch. "okay--she wants to feel safe. wrap her tight, walk and bounce, make quiet noises. i'll be right there."

[enduresit]

she almost laughs at trinity's none too gentle, incredulous response. or maybe she does. it doesn't matter either way. trinity's response is an expected reaction, and it settles something within samira for a heartbeat to hear it come through the phone. "i tried that already," samira says. "i've tried everything i can think of..." she moves back towards her bedroom anyway, setting the monitor down on the arm of the couch as she passes. tears of her own well up in her eyes as the crying gets louder as she approaches the cracked bedroom door, and samira hastily wipes them away as if trinity can see her through the phone.

why had she ever thought any of this was a good idea? she's not sure she ever had. there'd just been a need for something. for someone she could focus on and help and not fail at. and she'd been good in her pedes rotation. they'd loved her there. and maybe it was robby's parting words that had been ringing in her ears in a constant loop. all the talk of thinking he'd have a family and a pond by now. and dana's questions about someone taking in the baby. it'd just felt obvious. obviously a bad idea. "why doesn't she feel safe here? i'm —" a muffled sniffle as she wipes her eyes once again, "i'm trying my best."

[enduresit]

a baby. she's decided to foster a baby. one that, despite samira's every effort, will not seem to calm down. and sure, she knows that it's just a stage. a lot of babies around little jane doe's age cry inconsolably. she'd thought herself prepared for that. reality is far different. she's done the responsible thing, leaving jane in the bassinet while she steps into her apartment's living room. they tell parents to take a break sometimes when it gets like this. the muted monitor in hand, eyes still glued to the screen, samira calls really the first person on a very short list that she can think of. @mctrouble had quieted the crying infant before, so rumors go. the nurses had been delighted to discuss it.

"please pick up," samira finds herself murmuring quietly as the phone rings and rings. around and around she paces, trying in vain to at least temporarily drown out the wailing. and then, blessedly, trinity's voice greets her. "i need some help. she won't stop crying. the baby. jane. i took her home. dana was asking about emergency kinship fostering, and i don't know. i'll cover any shift you want, just please come over."

[pittcynical]

The department is finally quiet. Not empty. An emergency department is never empty. But the chaos has moved on to the next shift, leaving behind the strange stillness that settles over the place in the moments between disasters. Most of the lights in pediatrics have been dimmed. The charts are done. The sign-out is over. Robby should have gone home an hour ago.

Instead, he's sitting in one of the rocking chairs in the pediatric room with Baby Jane asleep against his chest. She's bundled in a hospital blanket, one tiny fist curled against the front of his scrubs. Every so often she makes a small sleepy noise before settling again. Nobody came. Not CPS. Not the police. Not a family member. Nobody.

The sound of the door opening draws his attention, and he already knows who it is before he looks up. His eyes find Cassie briefly before dropping back to the sleeping infant in his arms. For a moment he doesn't say anything. Doesn't try to explain why he's still here. Why he hasn't left. Why the thought of walking out that door and leaving Jane behind makes something in his chest feel impossibly heavy.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet and exhausted. "I'm sorry." The words aren't defensive or angry. Just tired. His thumb brushes lightly across the baby's blanket as he stares down at her. "I know what you're gonna say. That I can't fix this. That this isn't my responsibility. That there are people whose job this is." A humorless smile flickers across his face before fading. "I know."

His jaw tightens slightly as he swallows. After several long seconds, he looks up at Cassie properly. The exhaustion in his expression is impossible to miss now. "So why does it feel like I'm abandoning her if I leave?" His gaze drifts back down to Jane. The room is quiet again for a few moments before he lets out a slow breath. "I'm sorry," he says softly. "But I can't leave her here."

@enduresit

[enduresit]

abbot had directed her to pedes, mouth twisted in that way she’s come to understand means he is worried beyond the norm about something or someone — robby, in this case — when she’d come back down from watching the fireworks on the roof. he had almost seemed to be waiting for her, desperate to send her after robby. ( no almost about it, if either of them are being honest. his eyes had been fixated upon the door before she’d ever stepped through it. and she’d instinctively looked for him in return, knowing without a shred of doubt that he’d have been keeping track of the other man as he always did. ) 

she freezes for a moment in the doorway the moment her eyes land on them. not quite prepared for the sight that greets her, though cassie knows there’s nothing else that could have been there to greet in the room and patient she’s successfully avoided the entire day other than michael — and there is a difference between michael and dr. robby, she thinks. something that is stripped away and exposed here in this moment that she’s only ever seen outside the pitt, but present here in the way he cradles the baby so gently in the rocking chair.   

stepping further in, she allows the door to pedes to shut behind her, muffling the noise of the emergency department back into something tolerable. opens her mouth to speak and promptly shuts it when he breaks the silence first. a small smile pulls at her lips, the beginnings of an exhausted laugh bubbling up. of course he knows part of what she had been about to say. had dana already mentioned the way that cassie had refused earlier? or could robby simply read on her face the position she’d been adamant about before stepping foot into this room. a position she half hopes to maintain and convince him of. for as much as the sight of him like this with baby jane doe warms her heart… she cannot help the lingering misgivings. he’s not well. she’s tried talking to him about it. it’d be irresponsible at best to allow a baby to become a lifeline. 

“you know, that’s kind of why i avoided coming in here today. i didn’t want to run the risk of getting attached,” cassie says, voice soft to avoid disturbing the sleeping baby. she snags a rolling stool. wheels it as quietly as she can until she can sit just in front of robby, not quite letting their knees touch.

in the same gentle tone, she continues, “this is a big change. earlier i thought… that it would be a goodbye. i don’t know that this —” a small gesture at baby jane doe, expression sympathetic, “is a good idea right now. you came here on a motorcycle, robby, and i haven’t had the kind of car seat she would need in years. and that’s just the first step.”

[enduresit]

genuinely idk what i did in a past life to just keep getting blow after blow but. yeah. pet death tw under the cut

my grandmother's dog just died quite suddenly. we don't know what happened. he was a very good boy. my grandmother is extremely sad. his brother is extremely sad. i'm sad. and just. idk y'all. i'm. suffering.