private, mutuals only Michael 'Dr Robby' Robinavitch from HBO's The Pitt. Under construction. written by tiger, 25+, it/its.
This blog runs on a queue; currently posting 8 times a day. Approx. wait for replies: 3 days.
blog is wip, please stand by whilst I sort out icons, carrd, etc.
I do not do exclusives. I want to enjoy everyone on the dash. I don't see the joy in locking myself out of interacting with people just because I already write with the same character elsewhere.
mobile rules ;; disclaimer ;; tag guide.
This is a mutuals only blog, which means I will only interact with individuals who I follow and follow me back. If you break mutuals with me, please block me. I respect your decision, but I am not psychic.
Treat me the way you wish to be treated. Open, clear communication.
I am over 18, as is Robby.
I love original characters, although I may need some time to get to know them. Interaction from first meeting preferred. I have no issue with duplicates! I love other Robbys.
This blog will feature; suicidal themes, including suicide ideation, dissociative issues, panic attacks, abusive or aggressive behaviour, self harm in a variety of forms, etc.
Be aware that the muse and the writer are not the same person. I have personally endured a lifetime of suicidality and self harm. I am not someone who works in healthcare but I have reached the point of making plans, like Robby have. I have said goodbye. I have gotten to a point that I don't want anyone else to get to. But that means my exploration of Robby will come from a very real place. I don't want to hide that. But that also means I am fully aware that being depressed makes you an asshole, and that behaviour isn't okay, but it's also very understandable.
I write Robby as autistic but unaware of it. He has stims, he has sensory overloads, but he is a functional adult man and his autism is as managed as someone can manage whilst still being entirely unaware of it.
If you think Robby is an unfixable asshole or deserves to follow through with his plans, don't fucking bother talking to me.
I do not use discord. This is a personal preference; it may change in future, but for my mental health I'm trying to have a stricter line between interaction here and elsewhere. I know tumblr IMs are clunky, I'm sorry, but this is something I am firm on. I am an adult and I need to have a dividing line for my own mental health.
I am staunchly anti generative AI. I would rather you write badly than use AI.
tag guide
team meeting || psa / announcements/blog info/etc
thanks for the advice || reference /images of robby/references/etc
buzz buzz || text thread / text only threads. these can be rapidfire so you might want to block this tag if that's annoying.
you paged? || answered / ask tag
something to say to me? || ooc / out of character posts
consult called || meme / memes.
please report to the ED || open / open rps.
what room is open? || starter call / starter calls.
doordash on the roof || crack / silly/crack/dash commentary
unprofessional behaviour || usfw / my nsfw tag. block this to avoid smut/horny thoughts/etc.
verse tags
forgive me || dr robby / default universe, canon compliant
old flask new wine || tricare / ship tag with @tri-care's Langdon!
Jack shook his head. There was anger yes, anger he tried to keep at bay because this behavior was just reckless, and that was coming from him. It was a mixture of knowing there had been complications and the idea that Robby could have not made it. "Yeaah...suuuure.... you just couldn't take time off, to heal and avoid sepsis, or fucking stitches to rip, because you just a martyr aren't you ?" He was getting dangerously sarcastic.
"Let me ask you this." he looked directly at him. "If I pulled that shit, what would you do , mh? If I did not tell you I had surgery and you find out the surgery had complications and I might not have made it. No...don't answer that, we both know the answer anyway." he went back to patching him up.
"You don't fucking need to be here, you just cannot fathom not to be. That's your problem, brother, you're going to kill yourself working here and you don't even care anymore...don't pretend I don't notice. I do, and it pisses me off how little you care about yourself anymore. " He finished his job and rinsed the area before bandaging it. "You're so fucking infuriating sometimes, oh my fucking god." he ranted as he threw the utensils on the tray and ungloved. "I should report you for this."
"Jack." there was a warning in his voice, even if it was tired, well aware he couldn't walk away from this conversation because Jack was in the process os stitching him up and someone having a needle in your skin was a pretty good reason not to yank backwards. He swallowed hard as Jack continued, but started to shake his head, his own objections rising, but Jack was still going.
"It wasn't that bad." he muttered, mulishly; wasn't uncommon for a lapro to need to be opened into something wider, it was fine, it was just his gallbladder. Might not have made it? Bullshit. But he grit his jaw because Jack was still fucking going.
"Hey, man, Jesus," he snapped out, watching the bouncing items, "You don't throw equipment, fuck's wrong with you? Could hurt someone." he sat up, grimacing at the slight pull of the new stitches and the bandages. He didn't doubt Jack had done a good job. He was a combat medic. Working under pressure was his thing, after all.
"What would I do? I don't know, Jack," he snarled out, "You certainly wouldn't do shit like, I don't know, get shot at, then get one of my students to patch you up off the books, right? You'd never do anything reckless like that?" his jaw clicked with how hard he clenched it at the end of that sentence. "You sure as shit don't get to criticise me for putting myself in danger when that's all you fuckin' do!" he shook his head as he spoke, jaw tight, baring his teeth more like a dog than anything else. "You're okay to go out there and get shot at and who the fuck knows what else because you're a fuckin' thrill seeker, but all I did was what I always do. Christ, it was only my gallbladder, Jack, it's nothing major, I've worked with worse!"
"It's not that people don't trust you to take care of yourself-" Least, as far as she knows. "-it's more that you don't have to. Not while I'm around - honestly, this soup is going to be better than any take out you get." She can't help but pause for a moment, hands coming to rest at her hips as head tilts slightly.
"I, uh, I can't remember the last time I used one," he mumbled, grimacing at the slight admission, "Try the back right cupboard, that's probably your best. Should be some ceramic ones in there." they might need de spidering, too... he didn't mention that part. He was never a great cook, either.
Immediate relief fell on her as soon as the words left Robby's lips, a slight laugh to mirror his own in her own attempt to prove she knew just how crazy it was to jump to such a conclusion. Still, to be told that others said she'd done great today did lend a fair amount of pride to Sylvie's frame, fighting back the urge to beam.
"Yeah, no, I'm feeling okay. Just first day jitters I guess." Before coming to PTMC, Sylvie would have sworn that all city hospitals were pretty alike, but something about this place felt a little more intense. Which was why Robby making sure she was doing okay felt like a weight off her shoulders, no longer a burden to carry. "It just kinda feels like everyone knows what they're doing and I'm just... you know. Trying to keep up."
"I dread to think what reputation is preceding me if you jump to thinking that I'm on my way to rip you apart just because I wanted to talk to you," he laughed softly, but his joke was maybe a little too honest as he looked at her.
"Well, that's... because they do." he said, simply, gesturing with a hand, "They know what they're doing, and you don't. You're learning. It comes with time. The things you're confident in, you're doing great. You pick things up fast, but this is why we're a teaching hospital. Don't you worry. You'll get there."
His smile was small, but it was definitely warm. His head canted to the side.
"We're all in that place, at the start, after all."
Jack licked his lips, visibly amused by the offended reaction and just put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Yes, the ED being your convent , and Gloria the mother superior you keep running from. No other activities until recently. " He patted his shoulder.
"That is all I wanted to hear...look at you being all lovey dovey " He pinched his cheek. Was he being an ass, yes he was, but it wasn't everyday Robby was like this, dare he say happy. Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Stop it or I will slap you... " he gave him a pat on the arm. "Your boyfriend is watching us by the way..." he whispered a bit , since he did not really want to draw attention of certain nurses. "I think he's gonna implode, loook at him"
"You have to stop with this comparison, I am not enjoying this," he said, even if he was half smiling as he gave a long suffering groan, eyes shut; which was how he missed the hand coming up to pinch his cheek. Snapping those big doe eyes open again he swatted towards Jack's hand to get it away, snorting and shaking his head firmly.
At that final comment, though, his eyes flickered into Frank's direction. The half smile that raised his lips was almost entirely unintentional, clearing his throat as he tried to get it under control, looking back at Jack.
"You're a nightmare." he said, simply, giving a small shake of his head as if he wasn't still smiling, "Absolutely a fuckin' nightmare, I don't deserve this. I could write you up for inappropriate behaviour." he added, eyes flicking back to Frank, softening, as always. "Leave him alone, you ass."
Robby knows the steps to this tired old song and dance as well as she does, but with him in such an incapacitated state, Carol feels obligated to step into the position of caretaker. She's a nurse. It's engraved in her very bones.
For the nausea, she rummage through the medicine cabinet, retrieving a dose of Ondansetron and pondering whether or not to also administer Advil as she returns to his bedside.
"Let that sit under your tongue until it dissolves."
His wheezing concerns her, worried he might not only have a nasal fracture, but perhaps bruised or cracked ribs, the latter in danger of puncturing his lung. Maybe internal bleeding...
The CT prep is taking far too long for her comfort. This is the chief attending of the emergency room, for fuck's sake. One might think they'd prioritize with more urgency.
Carol has half a mind to take the matter to Gloria, but that will only serve as an extra headache, were Robby to find out. Best to keep all of this on the downlow until paperwork is taken care of.
When he closes his eyes for just a fraction too long, she firmly pats his face to keep him conscious.
"Nuh-uh," she softly scolds, "You know better than that. No nodding off until we know for sure whether you're concussed or not."
She loathes that he's in this condition, wishing she could do more for him. After all he so willingly sacrifices for his patients, he doesn't deserve this bullshit treatment.
"If it'll help you stay awake, you should try to keep talking. Why don't you tell me about that death trap of a motorcycle you fixed up? I don't know a thing about bikes like that, and why a man who's seen every MVA in the book come through these doors would want to risk his life for the sake of some badass aesthetic is beyond me."
The kick to the chest had maybe done more damage than he wanted to admit. Unfortunately the man had been in such a state, he hadn't held back, and the pain there was only getting worse. Maybe a floating sternum although most likely it was just some broken ribs. There would be bruising, too. Embarrassing that the chief of the ED was so easily taken out.
He grimaced at her, as she patted his burning face, feeling the swelling and the irritation there. His mind sluggishly listing off the damage. Broken nose, at the least; maybe the orbit. The CT would tell them a lot. His head was throbbing.
He knew how Ondansetron worked, of course. It felt like his thoughts were coming in out of order. At least that would help with the urge to empty the meagre filling in his stomach. He was just so… tired. She was talking, something about the bike, as he tried to ignore the clatter around him. Of course he had a concussion. Of course. The pain and the nausea and the wooziness… there was meant to be a doc examining but of course, none would be free… none would…
"It's not some badass aesthetic." he mumbled, tongue feeling too big in his mouth. "It's not… that at all." he didn't want to get in a gown. Maybe they could scan him in his scrubs. "It just feels freeing. So many years in a car… now I get to feel the wind…" he would dhave to take off his hoodie, obviously, pack away his stethoscope, but it wasn't as though he had metal in his pvants, "It's nice. Should try it something." his voice trailed off into a slur.
she hates that this is what she's come to. biting him, draining him just enough to knock him out so she has some time to think. everything she's been taught, everything she's lived her life by, she's thrown out. his voice, so strained hits her ears and tears fill her eyes that she tries to force back.
i'm sorry robby. i'm so sorry please forgive me. she thinks to herself, holding him up like it's nothing, which to her it is actually nothing. after another moment, she pulls off his neck, using her sleeve to cover the bitemark for a moment, wiping the blood. "you're gonna be okay... i promise..." she whispers, knowing that even if he hates her after this, she did it to keep him alive.
now she has to wait, and she has to basically just monitor him so he doesn't slip further. blood loss of any level isn't great, but she's buzzing. feeding directly from humans isn't something she does regularly so she feels like she's awake and on fire, but in a good way. she doesn't struggle when she puts his body on the bed in the room. she places a barrier spell on the room so no one can just walk in, though it does also prevent him from leaving. okay maybe she should have done that first.
pulling the stool up alongside the bed, evvie waits, leg bouncing as she watches him. "i'm so sorry. i... i didn't know what else to do, robby i'm sorry." she sighs, running a hand over her face. oh she's so fucked when he wakes up.
It wasn't something he could explain. She didn't feel human. She was on his neck and there was pain but more than anything there was a creeping cold weakness in his limbs and Robby? Robby was afraid. He was actually afraid, heart stuttering with the terror of it but no, no, he was - he -
His eyelids drooped, limbs trembling as his knees buckled. He wasn't totally out as he wheezed, blinking sluggishly in Evvie's direction, and then he dropped into a haze. It wasn't true unconsciousness, but his body was emptied out enough that his heart pumped slowly, lacking the pressure it needed for real wakefulness.
He could feel being held in a way that made no sense, hefted around like he was a bag of flour, or more like a bag of balloons. He's aware of something like softness below him, the chirping noises of the machines around him, but it doesn't feel like being a patient. Not really. His body drifting in and out of sleep.
It's still a hospital room. His neck aches. His body works, slowly regenerating the blood it had lost, although it takes time. When he finally comes to, still weak, eyes blinking at the ceiling as he tried to remember. Everything is so… quiet. His body has a long way to go, lots of work to do, there's a vague sick sensation in the pit of his stomach which he was sure was more to do with something like hunger than anything else. He didn't understand what had happened, a low croak in his throat as he fought the urge to fall back asleep.
his dismissal was not surprising in the slightest. if anything, she would've been shocked if he willingly accepted her concern. "oh, good," she said dryly. "well, as long as the guy who just got launched into a wall says he's fine, i guess we can all pack it up and go home." the second he grimaced beneath her touch, her brows shot upward. "uh-huh." not convinced. at all. she folded her arms across her chest as he settled onto the stool, watching him with the same look she'd reserve for a stubborn patient trying to leave against medical advice.
despite the sarcasm, there was genuine concern tucked underneath it. he looked off. "look, i'm not saying it's definitely a concussion. diagnosing is out of my scope. — are you nauseous at all ? blurry vision ? rining in your ears ? " andrea was already reaching for the penlight in her pocket in order to check his pupils.
"I mean, most guys aren't senior attendings of the ED," he pointed out, but he was also well aware that the reputation for doctors being difficult was not the most unfounded statement in the world. He grimaced slightly but allowed her to objected, to start her questioning. It was standard procedure, after all.
"No ringing, no nausea," he mumbled, swallowing back against the low burn in the back of his throat. That was fine, he always felt a little weird, it was a side effect of how little he remembered to eat recently. Unfortunately, his physical reactions were a little more difficult to hide. For example, the way he flinched back as the light in his eye prompted a searing pain across his skull, clenching his eyes shut, baring his teeth as he reached a hand up to rub at them.
~ For a moment Frank's brows furrowed. CONFUSED. Trying to follow Robby's line of thought with a subtle shine of questioning in blue eyes - until comprehension dawned. Frank's face doing something strange as he let the knowledge sink in. A myriad of EMOTIONS and thoughts tumbling into each other for a moment.
A drug ring.
Addicts.
'Oh.' It was an odd sensation - HURT and understanding mingling together. All topped off with that spark of familiar shame that never fully left him. Shame over his past mistakes. Mistakes that had caused so much damage. So much pain to those around him. Especially to the man in front of him. The man he loved. Sure, it hurt that Robby could still think of him...that way....it made Frank's stomach twist, made him ITCH to prove himself. But he also understood it.
Trauma..PTSD...it didn't have a Use By date. And it struck when you least expected it. It didn't have to be rational. It didn't have to make SENSE in the moment.
When Robby tried to pulled away, Frank REFUSED to let him. Hands going to the Attending's shoulders, keeping him close. ' Hey, no, don't do that....don't shut me out. You're not being ridiculous.' One hand moving to the back of Robby's neck, Frank's fingers gently stroked through the fine hairs at the base of his skull. Searching the others features. ' I'm sorry. I'm sorry you went through that. '
I'm sorry for being the reason you went through that. ~
At that moment, he half expected Frank to recoil. Angry, disgusted, betrayed; all would be entirely understandable sensations for the man to feel. Robby was all but suggesting he was destined to relapse, and whilst that wasn't what he meant at all, there was always that undercurrent of fear. Addiction was unpredictable. Frank struggled with his pain. It was… it wasn't a good, fun time, not always. With his own trauma tangled up in it….
So when Frank held onto him, his dark eyes blinked, surprised, before he half smiled at him. He sighed, just a soft movement of relaxing shoulders, head tilting to the side as he smiled at Frank; wet eyed and still a mess, but a little gentler now, at least.
"It's okay. We're okay, we're good, we… we did what we could." he cleared his throat against the stickiness that had settled in the back of it, shaking his head again, "What else could we have done, honestly, we… most of them were DOA. With burns that severe…" he bit hip.
"All cute together?" he snorted, "Seriously, Jack? If you wanted to make your move on me, you had years to do so," he was still developing his comfort levels with being open about the bisexuality, admittedly, but still. "Oh, leave him alone, you ass." he laughed.
"Oh you know, had I not been married and you less of a closeted nun, maybe we would have had a chance. " Jack joked with a mastered straight face. Robby could tell he was being a bitch to him right now. "But I still require my Robby time, and my hugs, and my beers, it's vital for the thriving of Jack Abbot or you'll have to take it up with my husband because I'll be a sad forgotten best friend." he dramatically added. "And may I put out that I leave Frank alone ...unless I am here when he is, and just linger around and make him question if he did something wrong or not...it's kind of a hobby at this point....because I am going to kill him if this does not work out because of him."
"I'm sorry, no, no, closeted nun?" he objected, still caught on that statement, even if he was visibly holding back an open smile at Jack's teasing. Jack was one of the first people he'd been open with, about him and Frank and the strange relationship they'd slipped into. It felt fitting he was the one teasing.
"You'll get your Robby time, man, jesus. You might even get more of it nowadays," he snorted, "Seeing as I actually invite you over now the house doesn't feel like..." he trailed off, cleared his throat. "Regardless, you know damn well if the relationship falls apart it'll be me, not him. God knows I don't deserve him." despite the disparaging words, his tone was warm.
"Well I'm asking you, are we still going to be all cute together, or am I kicked out because you found a younger one ...who by the way will not look me in the eyes and bails as soon as he can every time I do ask questions."
"All cute together?" he snorted, "Seriously, Jack? If you wanted to make your move on me, you had years to do so," he was still developing his comfort levels with being open about the bisexuality, admittedly, but still. "Oh, leave him alone, you ass." he laughed.
she accepted the hoodie with obvious relief. the second she wrapped it around her waist and tied the sleeves securely in front of her, some of the panic eased from her shoulders. only some. the embarrassment remained fully intact. as she adjusted the hoodie, her gaze briefly caught on the tattoo peeking from beneath his sleeve. it wasn't the first time she'd noticed it, but it was one of those details she'd never actually asked about. a fleeting thought. gone as quickly as it appeared. right now she had bigger problems.
"uh . . . yeah, if you could trail behind me that would be good. you could be like my human privacy screen." the brunette sighed, running her hand over her face in pure embarrassment. andrea carefully took a test step, then another. "let's get me a pair of pants before my dignity suffers any further."
"Don't you worry, I have got you covered," and maybe that was a joke or maybe it was an accident, but he was half smiling as he said it, so the latter was not out of the question. He was already feeling the chill of the ED, grateful normally of how cool the place was able to stay even in the hotter weather, and he ran cold; but it was a worthwhile sacrifice for the moment. He wondered about grabbing a kit or something to put a few quick stitches into her clothes but decided against it; a new pair was the easier answer. He couldn't wait for whatever reaction was going to come from the laundry people…
It was easy enough to fall into step behind her, now, not too close but close enough, ignoring any glances that went their way and still definitely not trying to fight back the urge to giggle. He had done plenty of similar things; he couldn't count the many bad things that had happened to his scrubs in his time in the ED…
~ Pain forgotten for a moment, Langdon felt his chest FLUTTER the same way it always did when Robby referred to as him as his boyfriend. Each time hearing that openness feeling like something PRECIOUS and special. Something warm and BLOOMING in his chest that spread out to the rest of his body. Frank trying not to make a big deal out of it so Robby didn't spook, but unable to stop the way he beamed up at the Attending from the floor. Smile blinding. Blue eyes turning playful. ' Oh yeah? You sure that there wasn't a HANDSOME tacked in with that comment?'
Grinning from his sprawled out position, Frank's expression changed into something more serious. Opening his mouth to point out that ROBBY was the one that had just gotten off shift and shouldn't be coming home to sort out FRANK'S issues. Mouth closing as Robby PREEMPTIVELY cut him off before the words could actually leave him. Frank submitting with a huff and maybe small, TINY, totally subtle pout.
' It gets like this sometimes, it's fine. ' Mumbling he WINCED as he fought to stubbornly sit up by himself. Sitting there for a few beats as he took a few slow steadying breaths before WRANGLING the hoodie over his head. Turning onto his front with less GRACE than he'd been aiming for. ' Y'know if you wanted to get me naked you could have just said so.'~
He rolled his eyes, even smiling warmly as he was at the way Frank was always so willing to react positively to being referred to as such. He always felt a little bit silly when he called him a boyfriend, the same as he would with girlfriend; it always felt like it hammered in their age difference, but, regardless, he pushed that thought aside. Because partner felt too permanent, too, so…
"There was definitely not a handsome in that comment, I do not need your ego getting any bigger than it already is," he huffed, even if he was smiling, the expression relaxing a little at the sight of Frank struggling to get up. He would have reached out, supported him, but he allowed him this moment of independence as he flopped over.
"If I wanted you naked, Frank, I would be making it happen," he said, rolling his eyes again. He moved, getting up with his own groan, and then sat; straddling over Frank's legs, pinning them as gently as he could. He hesitated a second, taking in the shape of his spine; he was no physio but even he could see the tension there.
"Okay, nice slow breaths, tell me if anything hurts too bad," he murmured, and then carefully pressed his hands down, starting to massage the tense muscles to try to encourage them to relax. His brows were drawn, eyes soft with concern. He hated to see how Frank struggled with his back, knowing there was no real option for pain management for him any more.
