𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 an indie & friends focused Dr Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch from HBO's The Pitt. canon selective with heavy headcanon influences. medium activity. multiverse and multiship. written by Aether. 30+. they/them. EST.
rules - ish
this will be a heavily friends focused blog.
don't be a dick.
Robby is a jerk, we know this. I wont be glossing over it. his treatment of Mohan and Langdon will not be excused. call him out on it.
mental illness will be a heavy theme here, Robby is not okay. that being said there will be no depictions of s*icide or attempts. there may be mentions of ideations; those will be tagged.
writing is a hobby. if its not fun, I'm not doing it.
I know fuck all about medical shit. If it comes up, it will be vague as shit and mostly glossed over. I'm not casually putting myself through medical school to write threads. so nothing will ever be described in great detail. nor will any medical procedures be reblogged.
a scoff leaves him. breathless and disbelieving. he was exhausted now and he was entirely sure that that had been Jack's plan all along. that asshole and his inability to just sit down for more than ten minutes at a time. when he'd agreed to go on the hike, he'd expected something more low impact. neither of them were thirty years old anymore. and yet Jack had pushed him through ridiculous terrain and mud that had threatened to take them out every few minutes.
"thanks, man. you know I was really hoping all the mud treatments were bullshit. but alas..." the snark is lost between panting breaths. he wasn't really upset about it at the end of the day. Robby just wasn't cut out for the hiking life. despite what his husband seemed to think.
five times flirted: ( five times the receiver flirted with the sender )
THE FIRST TIME Jessica is brave enough to flirt with her attending is at a bar crawl to celebrate someone's birthday after a shift. Crawl is a generous term, given that they're all mostly exhausted, and as the night ticks on, so too does the amount of sleep any of them will be getting before doing it all again tomorrow. That doesn't seem to hurt the energy in the building, though. The bar is packed, loud music and a few too many drinks being passed around, and Jessica's found herself perched on a barstool next to Dr. Robinavitch.
It's easy to see why he's a phenomenal doctor. He's scary smart and easy to talk to. The kind of energy that most people never manage, let alone doctors. At least in her limited experience, it's hard to find someone with both the book smarts and the charm to manage the difficult situations with grace. It doesn't hurt that he's distractingly handsome, either.
She's all too pleased to listen to his stories from her stomping grounds. Charity Hospital wasn't too far from where she'd attended undergrad, and it surprisingly feels like a little bit of home talking to him. Maybe it was that, maybe it was the liquid courage, but when the music turns to a slower beat and most, if not all, of their colleagues have either gone home for the night or tucked into corners with one another, she decides to ask him to dance with her.
She's not proud of the way her cheeks flushed when he actually accepted. She'd been dodging the giggling schoolgirl accusations from her cohort via text message all night, and the smile that pulls at her lips once they're swaying to the song together does little to dispel the insinuations. Whatever. What harm could one little dance do?
Well. . . It could feed into the temptation that has blue eyes lingering on his mouth and her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. That temptation has her easing up onto her tiptoes, ready to throw caution to the wind. But, much like Cinderella and her midnight curfew, Jessica's roommate is gathering up her things at the bar, announcing that the redhead will be locked out if she doesn't gather her own things and get into the cab.
And so, the spell is broken. The real world butting in and sending her running to the barstool for her abandoned purse and coat. The chastising serves as incentive to hurry, but not before scribbling her phone number down on a cocktail napkin. Her smile was bright, the adrenaline of being caught and the last of her drinks causing her to giggle as she returned to her attending and stuffed the napkin into his hand. "Have a good rest of your night, Dr. Robby."
THE SECOND TIME the opportunity to flirt comes in the form of a hangover check when she inevitably calls off because exhaustion and liquor just don't mix well. It's an embarrassing thing to admit as someone in training to become a doctor that she's terrible at managing her liquor, and yet when he texts to check in on her (as well as make sure she has his number, too), there's a part of her that's grateful she still hasn't learned to pace herself well enough.
The conversation is innocent enough at first, idle chatter about getting enough water and greasy food as a cure-all, seeing how the department is doing without her there (as if she holds that much weight as an almost R1). But fortune favors the bold, and only once she knows he should be off for the evening does she venture a more forward approach.
[ Robinavitch, M. ] (SMS Sent) : you know, something tells me that having a hangover at your place would've been a lot more manageable than having to deal with it all by my lonesome here 🥺
If it were possible, she would've sworn that the minutes slowed down to days after she hit send. How could she possibly think that was an appropriate thing to send to her superior? Being drunk and flirty one night is one thing; to turn his very kind, very professional message into an opening to suggest that she would've gone home with him?! Fuck the dehydration and migraine she'd been nursing all day; the anxiety of what was likely to come back, if he were to respond at all, was going to have her praying to the porcelain god.
When her phone vibrates beside her, her face is hidden beneath her pillow, and she can't manage to pick up the phone and look at it. Instead, she calls out to her roommate, holding the phone towards the other woman and simply asking, "Am I fired?" The laughter that answers her question first nearly sends Jessica into orbit. What the fuck could he have said that would've made her laugh? Her pillow is thrown at the other girl so she can snatch up her phone, an excited giggle pealing from her at his reply.
[ Robinavitch, M. ] (SMS Received) : guess we'll have to find out next time.
Fortune truly did seem to favor the bold.
THE THIRD TIME comes in the midst of a game of cat and mouse. While she enjoys having Robby's attention, there is a part of her that worries she might be straying into waters she's not sure she's capable of traversing. Especially not when she catches his gaze while following other attendings around, watching her as if trying to read her mind from across the floor. Their conversations have remained friendly, but not too friendly since her attempt at recovering with him rather than in her too-small apartment with her ex-musical theatre major roommate.
She doesn't miss the way another woman on the floor, someone from the administrative office apparently, has been lingering around him for longer than Jessica would've liked. But that was better for both of them, right? She's busy and distracted, and he's someone she should be looking to as a mentor, not to fool around with. Yet, when the woman's too-loud laugh at a joke cuts through the general din of the department, the redhead can't stop herself from intercepting Robby as he attempts to excuse himself from the conversation with a bright smile and a bullshit ask for help.
Leaning against the wall as Robby searched through the cabinet for the propranolol, she knew good and well wasn't there; she feigned nonchalance as she watched him from the corner of her eye. "You know, somethin' tells me she isn't a very good dancer." Only then does she glance over at him, a smirk playing her lips and a question lingering in her eyes that she really has no business asking. Wouldn't you prefer that to be me?
She fidgets with the stethoscope around her neck. Jealousy was a dangerous thing, and so was the impulse that she was currently battling against. They were at work, and while the corner they were in was secluded enough, the last thing she should be doing was lingering as close to Robby as she was. But, rules or not, she's a girl who knows what she wants and doesn't like the idea of having to share. So, she finds herself leaning just a little bit closer; all it would take is a little push, and her lips would graze his. "I think you should meet me after handoff, and we can revisit our dance, hmm?"
Blue eyes glance quickly at his mouth, then back up to his warm brown eyes, lips parting as if to say something else before opting to press together again. Not here, not right now. Her palms press against the wall she'd been leaning on, righting herself and heading back into the fray while calling over her shoulder, "Miss Dana has the order for more propranolol; can you ask Dr. Adamson to sign off on it? Thank you!"
THE FOURTH TIME Jessica has the wherewithal to flirt is much longer than she'd meant to wait. Long days and harder cases had begun to wear on the redhead, and while she was able to keep up with conversations over text message, she couldn't help the way her shine had been dulled a little in person. She's managing, but there have been too many cases that have either resonated a little too deeply or left her with a pit in her stomach and the type of guilt that grows with the new experience of the pressure being on her shoulders now.
She doesn't regret the choice to move into emergency for her first year of residency by any means. In fact, it was her time during her EM rotation that helped her to settle on where she wanted to focus her career. Residency was different, though, and the weight of it had begun to weigh on her. Add in that since graduation, her sister had decided to stay for the summer, which made spending multiple days on end at Robby's place not incredibly feasible.
She'd managed to stave off any sort of graduation celebration for a few weeks, citing moving into her residency and the change that that brought with it as too much to manage while also being put on the spot, but Eden did what younger siblings did best and just didn't listen. So, once the party had been announced, Jessica gave over a list of names and numbers of friends and colleagues she was willing to invite over, save for one. That person, she would invite personally.
[ Robinavitch, M. ] (SMS Sent) : hey you. . . I know I've been a little quiet lately, but I miss you
[ Robinavitch, M. ] (SMS Sent) : my sister is throwing a graduation party at my place and I'd really love it if you'd come by
[ Robinavitch, M. ] (SMS Sent) : no pressure. . . I'd just really like to see you outside of those glaringly white walls
[ Robinavitch, M. ] (SMS Sent) : and I can promise that I'll be wearing something that is my way of apologizing for being out of sorts 😉
The embarrassment of not just double, but quadruple texting him has her stomach in knots. Even when he says he can swing by for a little bit, she feels rusty. But barely-there shorts and a top that leaves little to the imagination have her feeling more like herself than she has in weeks. So much so that when the buzzer rings, she holds the button down long enough to ensure that he's able to get into the building before taking off down the hallway to greet him once the elevator doors slide open. Here she's not nearly as concerned with onlookers, and so her arms are eagerly wrapped around his neck, the tip of her nose brushing against his as she giggled, "You're absolutely certain that I can't talk you into callin' out?" She smiled, her fingers running through his hair before she pulled away, giving him a little turn in the middle of her hallway. "I mean, come on, an outfit this good deserves an audience that's gonna appreciate it properly."
While there are plenty of moments after that party, THE FIFTH TIME worth noting comes with too many years and more heartache than either of them deserves. It comes in an in-between phase, questioning and testing to see if it's reciprocated. The shift had been a long one. Fortunately, nothing fatal, but busy in the way only the ED could be. As they walked side-by-side discussing anything but the way their day had gone, a familiar impulse left her hand flexing and stretching by her side.
Years ago, she wouldn't have thought anything of it. They were far enough from the hospital by now that they weren't likely to be recognized, the same markers she'd used back then jumping out to her now. The sub shop that meant she could walk a little closer to him, the liquor store that, as they rounded the corner of, meant they were out of prying eyes' distance.
While at first she'd been forward, daring and bold, to gain his affections, now there was a quietness that sought him out. A piece of home that she hadn't allowed herself to acknowledge she'd left behind when she'd run from him. There were no silly outfits, no entendres to slip into conversation to bait him into a more heated conversation. Instead, it's one simple gesture that she prays isn't brushed away.
With all of the familiarity and comfortability of the person that she was, her palm finds its way into his, lacing their fingers together as they walked. All at once, she's caught between the past and the present, with this man as the center of it all. Her gaze is soft as it meets his, the question reflected back to her aching at her chest. So, instead of trying to find the right words to explain how badly she's missed this, how much of her heart he still has, and the million other things she wants to tell him, she raised his knuckles to her lips and hoped that the gentle kiss pressed there would answer him.
The way Jack's shoulder slightly relaxed when Mohan left after he told her that they would uber that bag to the patient's house at his expense, was really only noticeable by Robby. All in all, Robby had handled that pretty well, a very demure irritation.
He did not say that he wanted to do it himself but he couldn't reach. He had learned early on to not fuel that one. Even more now that they were not thriving in their marriage. He let the t-shirt on his lap, no need to hide his side anymore. "I am ... I thought she would never leave." he joked. "She was so adamant to help her patient, I didn't find it in me to really shoo her away. " He looked over his shoulder. "Shouldn't take too much of your time, think it's just a burn"
it had been a long day already and he was barely half way through his shift. the arrival of his husband covered in someone else's blood only made it feel longer still. things might be less than ideal with them right now, but there was still that fear that verged on terror when Jack appeared in SWAT gear. that this would be the time there was something that he wouldn't be able to fix. though Jack not being on the gunnery helped in part.
"she's doesn't pick up on hints well sometimes." though he felt like Jack had been throwing up neon signs begging her to leave. that was beside the point now. "she's good with them, but it goes beyond what we can do here more often than not." he's not wasting time just standing there. moving about the room to assess what Jack had already been setting up. cool fingers prod carefully at the area, giving the clearly bruised skin a wide berth. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were down an arm tomorrow. but if you're lucky we wont have to drain it," he teases.
“you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
"some would say I don't need any help in that department." and as much as she was right, they were unfortunately at work where that wasn't a possibility. which only served to make him wish that he'd taken more time to kiss her before they'd left the house.
Jack had an agreement with Robby. When he came with SWAT in and it was PTMC, it was his husband who checked him over. It was always the same room as the one in 2017 and that's what he had been doing, preparing himself, when Mohan had waltzed in there, he had a moment of really felt awkwardness. Despite his confidence, having a resident see him like this was not something he wished. Especially even more when the whole ED could see him because she had not closed the curtain. Carefully hiding his right side from view, he masked by remaining cool and talking about her patient. However the more she talked, the more flabbergasted he was.
it was unspoken. as it usually was. the look that passed between them that said 'I'll find you' despite Robby knowing exactly where Jack would be. and that had been his full intention until the trauma bells sounded overhead. lifeflight. male vs boat propeller. he knew that Jack would understand. that as much as Robby wanted to assess his husbands current status. he was still on shift and traumas took priority. especially when as far as Robby could tell none of the blood that clung to Jack was his own. good.
once he was able to step away from the familiar chaos that the ED had fallen into on the 4th of July. Robby was a little surprised to find the door open and the curtain pulled back. that wasn't something Jack would do. irritation claws up the back of his neck. he liked Samira, he really did. despite what some may think. but her ability to insert herself into situations that she was neither needed nor clearly wanted was astounding sometimes.
"Dr Mohan, I'm sure there is an intern somewhere that would benefit from your assistance." it's not a question. it was very much an order. her inability to read Jack's clear discomfort further irritated him and not just because the man was his husband. his gaze never leaves her until she's gathered up the bag from the floor and rushed from the room. shutting the door and pulling the curtain closed with a touch more force than necessary.
"sorry, I should have been faster." it's offered a bit more pathetically than he'd meant it. "still with me?"
Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship
Igraine has definitely seen Robby in a mood and has ushered some of the more tender-hearted residents away from him while she believes he's having a moment. She honestly doesn't mind when he's a bit cross with her. He's a good boss, but he's nowhere near her drill sergeant.
She does call him boss man, jefe, the warden, head honcho to tease him, but that's only when it's just them. She won't do it in front of patients unless they're one of her usuals like sam.
Igraine did in fact try to get her friend to come in to give Robby a massage, but was met with a 'are you kidding me 'look'.' look. She's still convinced he would regularly love them if he got them.
When Igraine travels during deployment, she picks up patches from the airports she's in to bring back to Robby, because bikers should have patches and he has a bike.
The word is whispered like a prayer, and it's one that's easily answered. The home she'd once been so afraid of now feels too desperately perfect to leave. He came back, and so did she, and now the idea of running away feels like a sin against this fragile thing that they've found again. She'd nodded her agreement, features tucked into the hollow of his neck as she held him close. She would stay as long as he wanted her to and go if he asked her.
His bed feels different with him in it. For the months she spent guarding his place, it'd felt too big, but now she sees why. Without Robby in it, a piece of the puzzle was missing. The nights are easy, quiet, as they begin to learn one another again. Dinners fumbled through, wine glasses left by the kitchen sink, old-time movies playing in the background as they both fight to stay awake after the long days.
And then one night, Jessica isn't certain of the time, she's awakened by the sound of Robby talking in his sleep. It's not uncommon; his mind is too often preoccupied to truly leave work behind, and it follows him into his dreams, but the timbre of his voice is different this time. The twitching of his arms and legs too intense to just be that little bit of stress leeching out of his subconscious. Gentle fingers brush through his hair, her voice calmly calling to him, inviting him to wake up rather than demanding it. Whatever was haunting him, she wouldn't add to the stress of it all, but she would coax him from it gently, patiently, until his wild eyes search hers in the darkness.
"Hey, hey, hey," she cooed softly, fingers lightly brushing across his brow, down his jaw, "I'm here. Everythin's alright, I've got you." She shifts, tucking her arm under the crook of his neck so one hand could gently drag soft designs along his spine, the other encouraging his head to rest on her chest, "Breathe with me. Feel my breath?" A deep breath filled her lungs, slowly releasing as her lips brushed along the top of his head, "You're okay. The dream's all done now. You're here with me."
cell phone headcanons
send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:
- what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone
Life Alert 💊
- what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone
- what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone
[x] losing my religion - R.E.M (idk why this just makes me think of them)
- my muse’s last text to your muse
[ txt : life alert ] Hey , I know it's late , but i'm checking in .
[ txt : life alert ] I'm a little buzzed .
[ txt : life alert ] I'm watching a documentary on aliens
[ txt : life alert ] they keep talking about probing , but like we've seen so many people get probed on night shift . I don't think they do it like this .
tangentwithtanner
baratheonpilled
titsay
amandla
germansingergirl
snowghoul
gracieabrams
