rewatching RON2 realizing that titus slowly shedding layers of clothing between scenes symbolizes his slow (but sure) descent into his mental break. he loses the coat after he kills his father, the ascot after he fucks up in the woods and ursula slaps him, the vest, and finally the flannel after he realizes ursula would be willing to let him die. by the time he's beating up faith, he's just in his undershirt. the most brutal scene in the movie is akin to the rawest form of him, no longer restrained by the 'clothes' of propriety.
Content warning; Contains brieft sexual content 18+ mention of reckless behaviour, female reader
Summary; Robby and you had agreed to keep your relationship casual, but one motorcycle, one argument and the slip of three little words, changed everything
Robby was just slipping into bed as your alarm was due to sound. He had already shed his scrubs, leaving him in just his boxers as he reached over for you, pulling you closer to him, trying to warm his cold hands on your thighs and stomach. You sleepily swatted him away.
“Get off,” you laughed, turning around to face him. “You’re freezing.” He greeted you with a tired smile.
“Hey.”
You ran your fingers through his hair, already disheveled from him raking his fingers though it all day.
“How was work?” You asked him, as he leaned in planting a kiss to your cheek, making his way down to your neck. He let out a huff, his hand snaking behind your back and pulling you in closer.
“Rough.”
Your hands trailed up his chest, reaching for his jaw, bringing his lips to yours.
It wasn’t unusual for Robby to come back to yours after work, or for you to go to his. That was the arrangement you had. When you had time, you gave it to each other. But there were rules, and limits.
Keep it casual.
That had been both of your priorities since the beginning. You were both too busy for dating, so you found something in each other that worked in both your favours. He would come to you, or you would go to him. And it worked, almost too well. Nothing ever got messy, no wires ever got crossed. You had agreed that although you weren’t exactly exclusive, you weren’t seeing or sleeping with other people. You both agreed on that as well. As casual as the whole situation was, it was yours, together. Just the two of you. At the start, you had both decided that staying the night made more sense. You work together, and time in between shifts was so limited that you both understood the importance of sleep where you can, when you can.
But, there came a point when you knew that it wasn’t just sex anymore. Robby knew that too. But you were both, for the time being, happy to keep pretending that it was as casual as it had been at the beginning. Eventually, somewhere along the way, he would come over and you would have dinner before falling asleep talking about your day. Mornings became just as familiar. The two of you would drift around the kitchen making coffee and eating breakfast, bickering over who got the bathroom first. You would perch on the counter brushing your teeth while Robby washed his face beside you. He always remembered your scarf as you rushed out the door, and you always remembered to close his windows so his apartment wasn't freezing when he got home.
He would find you at work, pull you into an empty supply cupboard and steal a kiss before returning to work like nothing happened. There was never much time in the chaos of the ED, but he still somehow always found thirty seconds for you. Sometimes it was nothing more than a brush of his fingers against yours as you passed each other in the corridor, hidden from everyone else's attention. Sometimes it was a folded note tucked into your scrub pocket, his messy handwriting scrawled across the paper. It wasn't dating. At least, that's what the two of you kept telling yourselves. If anyone noticed the way his eyes found yours in a room full of people, or how instinctively you reached for him after particularly difficult cases, nobody ever said anything. You certainly didn't. Neither did he. Because saying it out loud would mean admitting that the lines had blurred.
Because casual relationships weren't supposed to look like that.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” he mumbled against your skin, as he kissed a trail down your neck to your chest and eventually down to your stomach. His hands ghosted over your hips, hooking onto the fabric and slipping it down slowly over your legs. His hands grazed back into your thighs, pushing them apart gently and your hips bucked, desperate for the attention he was purposefully withholding.
“Robby,” you almost whispered, your breath hitching in your chest. Your hands reached for him, trying to guide him down as you shifted underneath him.
“You’re needy when you’re tired.” He laughed, kissing down your thighs, settling in between your legs and gripping you tightly, pulling you towards him.
“And you’re a tease.” Your hands found his head, scratching through his hair.
He huffed a laugh, his breath fanning over you, making you squirm. He knew what he was doing, he always did.
“You’re so beautiful,” he moaned into you, your hips twitching as the vibrations of his voice rolled through you. His fingers teased at your center, slipping in softly and slowly.
Another cry of his name was the only thing you could seem to muster as you threw your head back into the pillow.
After you were showered and dressed, Robby still hadn’t moved from the bed. He lay on his back, one arm behind his head as he watched you search the room for the rest of your things.
“My badge,” you muttered, checking the bedside table before Robby pointed you to the dresser by the door, his eyes never leaving you.
"What?" you asked, catching him staring.
"Nothing."
"You've been looking at me for the last five minutes."
"I know."
You laughed, shaking your head.
“That’s a dangerous look when I’m already running late, Robinavitch.”
His smile was tired, the kind that barely lifted the corners of his mouth after twelve hours on his feet.
"You don't have to go."
You looked over your shoulder. "Pretty sure they'll notice if I don't turn up."
"They'll survive."
"The emergency department?" You raised an eyebrow. "Unlikely."
He let out a quiet chuckle before sighing, dragging a hand over his face.
"When does this stupid night rotation end?"
You slipped your watch onto your wrist.
"Next week."
"So after next week," he looked at you hopefully. "you're back on days?"
You nodded.
"Finally."
You smiled as you stepped closer to the bed, smoothing a hand through his messy hair.
"You'll survive."
"I don't want to."
"Oh?"
"I hate not seeing you."
The words slipped out so naturally that neither of you acknowledged them. Instead, he reached for your hand, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over your knuckles.
"Our schedules are ridiculous."
"They always are."
"They're worse when you're on nights."
"It’s only one more week."
"A long week."
You leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead.
"Get some sleep."
You started towards the bedroom door before his voice stopped you.
"Hey."
You turned back.
"Be careful tonight."
You smiled softly and he watched you until you disappeared into the hallway, only letting himself close his eyes after he heard the front door click shut.
You stood outside in the ambulance bay, nursing what little you had left of your energy drink. That’s when you heard it, Robby’s motorcycle. You hated that thing, with a passion. Working in the ED there were certain things you were sworn off for life, motorcycles sat firmly at the top of the list. You just wished that Robby felt the same way. You watched as he rounded the corner, and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. Even from where you stood, you saw the way his shoulders tensed when he spotted you. He pulled to a stop, killed the engine and slipped off his sunglasses, guilt written all over his face.
“You’re joking.” You walked over to him, tossing your can into the nearby bin.
“Please tell me you’re joking because there is no way you just rode all the way here without wearing a helmet.”
He swung his leg over his bike, grabbing his bag and inching slowly towards you like a child in trouble. You spoke before he had the chance to try and defend himself with whatever excuse he would muster up, you were too tired and too upset to hear it.
“I can’t believe you. How could you be so reckless? You’re the attending of this ED,” you waved your hand behind you to the entrance, “every single day we treat people whose lives change in an instant because they make stupid decisions like this! For fuck sake Robby, what the hell are you thinking?”
He huffed a sigh, only making you angrier than you thought possible. He held his hand up in defence, like he was trying to calm you down, but it was having the opposite effect.
“You don’t get to sigh at me.”
“It was only a ten minute ride, it’s not a big deal.”
Furious didn’t seem to touch the sides of what you were feeling.
“Not a big deal.” You nodded your head. “Sure, so I’ll start driving my car without wearing my seat belt, not a big deal. It’s not like we treat people every day, with injuries that could have easily been avoided by wearing a seat belt. But screw it, hey? Because it’s not a big deal.”
You placed your hands on your hips, shaking your head, trying to look anywhere but at Robby, it was taking everything you had not to run over to him and physically shake some sense into him.
His voice wasn't raised, but there was frustration creeping in now.
"I'm standing here, aren't I? Nothing happened."
You stared at him in disbelief.
"That's your defence?" The words echoed louder than you had intended.
A couple of paramedics glanced over before deciding they suddenly had somewhere else to be.
Robby lowered his voice.
"Please. I don't want to do this out here."
“Oh you don’t want to fight?” You laughed bitterly.
He stepped closer.
"I'm sorry."
"You should be."
His jaw clenched.
"I made one stupid decision."
"Exactly."
"And I'm apologising."
"Because you got caught."
"No." He shook his head. "Because I upset you."
“You don’t like seeing me upset? Imagine how upset I’ll be when you’re brought in here, after crashing that death machine while not wearing a helmet. Imagine how heartbroken I’ll be if something terrible happened to you Robby!” You fought hard to keep the tears at bay, not wanting to cry in front of him. His expression softened immediately.
“Hey, I’m fine. Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen.”
You laughed. It was all you could do. Never in your life did you think you’d have to worry about something as insane as this.
“You know what Robby, it’s your life. If you’re happy playing chance with it, then go ahead. But I am done, leave me out of it.”
You turned around despite hearing him call after you. You hurried to the bathroom, desperate for a moment of quiet and private place to cry. The tears came before you even reached the sink. You splashed cold water over your face, willing the sting behind your eyes to disappear. Your shift was over. All you had to do was grab your things and go home. But it still took another five minutes before you trusted yourself enough to leave. You kept your head down, hoping if you walked quickly enough you'd make it to the staff room unnoticed. You'd almost made it.
"Hey."
You closed your eyes.
"Please don't."
Robby was already beside you.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want to do this."
"I know."
His voice was quiet now, stripped of the frustration from outside.
"Just talk to me for a minute."
Before you could object, he gently rested a hand against the small of your back, guiding you towards the nearest empty supply cupboard. The door clicked shut behind you. The shelves around you were crammed with boxes of gloves, IV tubing and gauze, leaving barely enough room for the two of you to stand. Robby rubbed the back of his neck.
"I shouldn't have ridden without it."
"No."
"I wasn't thinking."
"No."
"I'm sorry."
You nodded once. He took half a step closer.
"It won't happen again."
You looked away from him, your eyes drifting around the tiny room. You shook your head, wiping angrily at your cheeks.
"You don't get it. You came into my life," you laughed once, humourlessly. "You came into my life and you made yourself matter to me."
Robby's brow furrowed.
"You did that." You poked his chest once. Your eyes drifted around the tiny cupboard.
"You kissed me in here. We eat lunch together in the break room. We work side by side in trauma. You built the bookshelf in my apartment." Your voice cracked. "You're everywhere."
He didn't interrupt.
"If something happened to you," you swallowed hard. "I'd have to leave. I'd have to get another job because every corner of this hospital would remind me of you. I'd have to move because I'd walk past that bookshelf every day and think about you." You let out a shaky breath.
"You made yourself part of my life." The words came before you could stop them.
"I love you, Robby, but that's so selfish."
His face fell.
"What?"
"It's selfish." Your voice was barely above a whisper now. "You made yourself matter to me, and now you're acting like it doesn't matter if you throw your life away."
The words hung between you, and suddenly your stomach dropped when you realized what you had said. You stared at him for a heartbeat, horror settling across your features as the weight of your own words hit you. Without another word, you pushed past him, yanked the cupboard door open and disappeared into the corridor.
"Wait!"
You didn't, because you couldn’t. You felt the panic settle in your chest. You hadn't meant to say it. Not like that. Not at all.
You told yourself he'd come over after his shift. He always did. But you woke up alone, and that was confirmation enough of you. Whatever was going on between you and Robby was over.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the look on Robby's face when they left your mouth. Shock, or anger? Confusion? Something you hadn't stayed long enough to figure out.
You spent the whole of your next shift replaying the argument over and over again. Not the shouting or the tears. Just three words.
I love you.
It was all you could think of, all day. Between that and the endless flow of patients, by the time the day staff started arriving, you were exhausted. You escaped to the break room with a lukewarm coffee and every intention of sitting down for five minutes before dragging yourself home. The chair felt softer than you remembered. You rested your forehead against your folded arms. Just five minutes, that was all. You didn't even realise you'd fallen asleep until you felt something warm brush gently across your back, slowly dragging you from your sleep. Your brow furrowed as you blinked awake, lifting your head just enough to look over your shoulder.
Robby. His hand fell away the moment he realised you were awake.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to startle you."
You rubbed at your eyes, still half asleep.
"What time is it?"
"About seven."
You sat up with a groan.
"I was supposed to go home."
"I know."
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The awkwardness settled between you almost immediately. You weren't sure whether to apologise or leave. Before you could decide, Robby pulled out the chair opposite yours and sat down. His hands disappeared into the pockets of his jacket.
"I wanted to show you something."
He placed a set of keys on the table between you. Car keys. They sat in front of you, a small black fob attached to a dealership key tag. You frowned.
"What?"
Your eyes lifted to Robby.
"So," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I sold it."
You looked from the keys, to him and then back again.
"You sold your motorcycle?"
He nodded. You couldn't quite find the words.
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know."
"So why did you?"
He let out a quiet breath.
"I kept thinking about what you said."
You immediately looked away.
"Robby."
"No." His voice was gentle, his tired smile returning. "Not the part you're embarrassed about."
Heat crept into your cheeks.
"The rest of it."
Silence settled between you.
"You were right."
You looked back at him.
"I was acting like nothing could happen to me."
His fingers tapped absently against the table.
"And if it did,” he shook his head. "I never thought about what it'd do to you."
Your throat tightened.
"You don't have to give up something you love because of me."
His small smile grew across his face.
"I was thinking about that too. And you've made it pretty clear over the last few months that you were never getting on the back of that thing."
Despite yourself, you laughed quietly.
"Not a chance."
"I figured."
He nudged the keys a little closer to you.
"So I bought a car. A very sensible sedan. Because I like the idea of being able to drive my girlfriend home.”
Your breath caught.
"Your girlfriend?"
The words hung between you. For the first time since you'd known him, Robby looked almost nervous. His hand rubbed absentmindedly at the back of his neck before he let out a quiet laugh.
"Well," he shrugged, his smile small and almost sheepish. "That's what I'm hoping."
The lump in your throat became impossible to swallow. The tears came before you could stop them.
"Oh, don't," Robby sighed, already pushing back his chair.
"I'm not trying to."
"I know."
He was beside you in two strides. You laughed through your tears as he cupped your face, brushing away the ones that had escaped with the pads of his thumbs. Your forehead rested against his. He looked at you for a long moment.
"I love you." He said finally.
The words were quiet, but certain, and they knocked the air out of your lungs. You reached up, grabbing his hand that cradled your cheek.
“Good.” You laughed softly, tears still clinging to your lashes.
"You're supposed to say it back." His smile widened.
"I already did."
Robby smiled, the tired lines around his eyes softening as he leaned in. He didn’t rush. He kissed you gently, the same way he always had. He kissed you like a million more kisses were already promised. When you pulled back, Robby murmured, "So, does this mean we’re not keeping it casual anymore?”
A quiet laugh fluttered in your chest.
"I think we were pretty bad at that anyway." You smiled.
the thing about CC is that she did plagiarize. she was found guilty of plagiarism and banned from fanfiction dot net! she plagiarized pamela dean, among others, and lied about it repeatedly! it happened! and regardless of whatever else she writes, regardless of whether the publishing industry and her fans trust her not to do it again, regardless of how many times her wikipedia page gets scrubbed clean, that will always have happened! so it is not in fact cruel gossip, but a factually true statement, to say that she plagiarized and i'm not interested in supporting her or giving her the benefit of the doubt because she plagiarized and lied about it repeatedly! fuck!
what really incenses me about cassandra clare — and forgive me for bringing this up again, but i don't think i've articulated this point yet — is not that i believe she is currently plagiarizing. any accusations i've seen about recent work seem to me to be superficial. but even if one could prove that she never plagiarized again once she started publishing, it wouldn't matter to me, because she chose to capitalize on her fandom history. while trying to distance herself from what she did, she made a brand out of the fanfic pen name "cassandra clare" and continues to profit off the reputation and fanbase that she amassed while she was, provably, a plagiarist.
you don't get to do that and bury the things that made you famous. as an individual, as a human being, she is capable of change and any other good qualities you may want to ascribe. but she built her career on lies. professionally, i don't understand why she gets to move on.
the worst part for me--worse than building her career on plagiarism--is that her career was also built on a truly reprehensible level of harassment. she told her followers to help get her unbanned from FFN (as if that would ever happen) and they spent months harassing the site owner and several abuse team members. one of them, after enduring extensive abuse, ended up in the hospital.
this was just the beginning of the harassment, though. CC additionally used her friend heidi, a lawyer, to send cease & desist letters and other forms of legal harassment against ppl. none of it would hold up in court and these sort of things weren't even heidi's area of expertise as a lawyer, but it still happened.
CC was such a terrible serial harasser that people started to leave her alone about the plagiarism stuff after a while because it was just not worth her blowing up your entire spot. not just with her lawyer, but with her minions who harassed targets on her behalf. getting a deluge of harassment is a horrible experience that hurts people, so of course people tried to avoid it.
i hate CC because she hurt lots of people. she did it intentionally, repeatedly, and with singular focus on covering her own ass no matter who she hurt.
she has the career she has now because of her harassment of fandom as much as the plagiarism.
