I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths. I hate taking baths.
//Good evening all, I know it’s been quite a while so I wanted to make a brief update. First Jirachi is my new mun faceclaim, I’ve been at this for years and I finally made my all time favorite mon my face whoops. But more importantly I do fully intend on coming back to write on both of my blogs soon, and regarding Bede I’ve been, albeit at the speed of snail (the Kei brand™), going through a revamping process. I’ll make another update post when everything is finished and tbh it’s exciting! I see I’ve gotten some new followers and I can’t wait to come back and meet everyone. Thank you for bearing with me during my absence--my health and mental state have been really difficult lately, but I’m hanging in there. Please do stay safe everyone as best you can.
In some positive news, despite it being a hectic moment, I’m a college graduate ^v^
I wish Texas pits an arbitrary VAT up against those from blue states specifically and tanks their tourism industry. I already love seeing ads where they beg me to come spend money in Florida, like hell no suck mdick
I’m actually surprised that Texas still has a tourism industry at all. If I wanted to experience the beauty and history of the American desert southwest, I’d go to New Mexico, which has 3 world heritage sites. If I wanted to experience the gulf coast, Texas would be the 3rd or 4th state I considered. If I wanted good country music and barbecue, I’d go to Tennessee. If I wanted to get shot by a boomer with lead poisoning and then be taken to a hospital doctors are continuously fleeing from, I’d go to Texas. The Alamo is literally the only thing in Texas I’d be interested in seeing but as I said, there are more interesting pieces of Spanish colonial history in New Mexico.
Florida? Florida is different, I love Florida. Have no plans to visit there in the near future as an immunocompromised individual but fuck Texas and its proposed ‘tariffs on blue states’. Texas doesn’t deserve any more transplant tax dollars, they pride themselves on being a red state pioneering in industry, let Elon Musk fix their roads.
just to keep you satisfied; michael robinavitch x f!surgical attending!reader
when greene steps down, he offers the position of chief of trauma surgery. despite the baggage you carry in the pitt, you accept regardless. something’s you can’t undo.
warnings: covid-19, slight hint of infidelity, mentions of prior miscarriages, GENTRIFICATION HONEY. mention of a past suicide attempt (reader), suicidal tendencies (robby), jealousy, hurricane katrina mention + hint of the us invasion of iraq, hint of jack & reader. yearning for motherhood and societal pressure for women to be mothers. robby is a lil (a lot) clueless.
word count: 5.6k
notes: i decided to (hint at) write ms. BARAN AL-HASHIMI (sepideh moafi’s character in season 2) in this chapter, enjoy :). this took far too long to formulate lwk. i changed it mid-way. WE ARE FINALLY APPROACHING THE END.
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“How is everything going in Chicago?”.
“It’s going… I had this 70 year old internal medicine retiree come in being the worst patient ever, reminded me a lot like you” you chuckled as you lowered your mask to your chin, taking a sip of coffee. Upon exhaling, your nose burned from the cold, shivering beneath your layers. Taking a moment before continuing, “How’s Monty?”.
“Robby has him on high flow oxygen and ECMO” Peter sighed after hearing your question, giving you a grave look.
“ECMO? Really?” you were taken aback from the measure.
“I know— I know. None of us were going to fight him on it, hell, you’d be an idiot to try to contest anything he’s been doing” Peter shook his head as you both walked together. There was an idea looming in his head, a hopeful one. “I have a proposition for you”.
You furrowed your brows and tilted your head in acknowledgment, “Am I going to hate it?”.
“Depends on your opinions of Pittsburgh… I was wondering if you’d like to threaten me with unemployment?” he joked lightly, at first, it flew over your head, unaware as to what he meant. A few minutes passed as it finally dawned on you his true proposal.
“No way— Peter—“ you spoke between waves of shock and amusement.
“Yes way—“.
“I couldn’t!” you exclaimed, dumbfounded from the proposal.
To be honest, the idea of being chief of anything was an aspiration, but also a living fucking nightmare. As you looked at your aged mentor, you began to realize you’re the age he was when he first gained you as a student. “You don’t think he’s going to make it?” your smile faded, earning an honest shake of his head.
Licking your lips you looked back at the skyline, the sun shining down yet not providing an ounce of warmth. You missed Pittsburgh, missed your old townhome and insane working hours, more importantly, you missed the life you left behind. Peter looked at you as if he needed you to save him, to lift the burden of being chief off his shoulders. He was tired. Months into a never ending pandemic, months of not knowing when he was going home and being so carefully cautious to not get his immunocompromised wife sick.
“I’ll do it” you immediately gave in, not fully thinking rationally. There was something inside of you that deeply cared for Peter, it was organic, he was your rock, like a father to you. He wasn’t going to protest you on it, mainly because he was exhausted, all his youth that remained sucked out of him during this pandemic.
Robby and you weren’t at odds by any means, you just didn’t talk. More than not talking, no spare glances, no same place encounters, despite the pandemic forcing you all in a secluded space where the last of your concerns would be your ex-fiancé within your vicinity or stealing a glance from you. Indifference, a stagnant state of un-feeling. You wouldn’t say neutral by definition but, it was strange, you really didn’t know the man in front of you.
You didn’t keep in touch, by design and machinations of the both of you, but for being damn near married with kids, you couldn’t fully divest your life from his. You remember Janey vividly, more so, finding out about her.
Picture this, you’re in the throes of the vibrant nightlife of Beirut, traveling with Doctors without Borders yet again and somehow, someway, Facebook decides to send you a friend suggestion. There was speculation, you wouldn’t be suggested a friend by the algorithm unless said suggestion had looked you up several times to develop interest. Whilst you took shots and smoked shisha through the ceramic hookah, the feeling ate away at you, who the fuck is Janey Malloy?
You waited until you were freshly showered, waiting for your hair to air dry reasonably against the humid climate of Lebanon. Resting in bed, your laptop open and hotel TV playing a rerun of the news, a glass of red wine beside you on the bedside table. There she was, in all her glory, Janey Malloy from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Relationship status: Dating Michael Robinavitch since August 2011. There was a pit in your stomach as you glanced through the public life of Janey, her son, and her life with Robby through simple, mundane photos. Whilst yours are trapped in a shoebox collecting dust in your house in Chicago. Stupidly, whilst shamelessly viewing bits and pieces of a life you so desperately once wanted with the man on the computer screen, you hit like.
It was on the nose, after the turbulence that was you and him, it made sense for Robby to be interested in a real estate broker and house flipper. Feelings aside, you were happy he at least had a taste of fatherhood. Whereas you had your own taste of motherhood according to Dana who still wished you a Happy Mother’s Day every year without fail, it was different and it will always make you wonder what your life would be like. Had Tatum been born, she’d be just approaching 14 years old, right about to be in high school. There was a pit of envy in your stomach, womb even. Only for regret to suddenly find its way to your body as you hovered on the link to Robby’s Facebook and hit request.
He accepted the next day, time zones can be a bitch for those with anxiety. Eleven years have passed since you left him, the years apart have finally surpassed the years together. Yet you still mourned him, still mourned the home you built with him, the career you molded and maintained to be at par with his— even succeeded, still mourned the bliss before chaos. It would not have worked out, you regurgitated to yourself throughout the airport as you booked a flight from Beirut to France, from France to New York, from New York to Pittsburgh.
It was nothing. You repeated to yourself as you and Robby met up for dinner, it’s only been eleven years since you’ve spoken to each other without the confines of a third party. You repeated to yourself as you wore a nice dress and heels that killed the back of your toes that were in sneakers for the better half of ten years. As the underwear and bra you wore underneath your lucky pieces. It was dirty, he’s in a relationship, he’s practically a father. Yet he’s sitting across from you in a dimly lit restaurant and it’s like your first date all over again.
“So Beirut?” he cleared his throat, taking a sip of the water beside him, pushing the lemon into the glass just before.
You nodded, there was an awkwardness between having ordered your food and the desperation that follows as you realize it’s going to take a moment for it to come out of the kitchen.
“I was there for a year, there was this lady out there that reminded me of you” you told him, tapping your fingers on your glass to pass the time.
“As in?” he crudely implied, smirking in amusement of his connection. You got the joke, you always got his joke.
“Not like that you perv” you scoffed out a laugh, taking a sip of your own water, the cold ice not helping the already cold atmosphere of the restaurant. “She was experimental, pretty hellbent of authority but nothing too extreme. Anyways I convinced her that if she were ever in need or in the area…”.
“You want her to work at the Pitt?”.
“It was a mere suggestion”.
Robby nodded, running a hand through his grown beard. You sat there, aged, just about to approach 40 as he sat there already knowing the better half of your twenties whilst you tried so desperately to forget them. Why couldn’t it be him? Why couldn’t Stacy sleep on the coach? Why couldn’t we have kids? Why did I have to leave? Would I have been able to carry it if we just tried one last time? Now that possibility is all gone, gone with the remnants of you and your ex-fiancé whose latest memory of you was of you storming out.
Just like that, rumination passed the time, then came your food, and more conversation.
“How’s your mom?” you asked, just as you're cutting a piece of your steak. It was mundane, a simple query that led him to be… tense?
“Haven’t really talked to her since well… the breakup” he confessed, shrugging it off, “Had a few disagreements on things like always. I see her on the holidays and that’s enough for me”.
You nodded and noted, a deep part of you was happy he deviated from his dependency of his parents within his life decisions— comes with age, you would suppose. “How’s um— your brother…”.
“Peter,” he caught on, he knew your predispositions against James, Peter seemed like the logical option. Nodding again just before you took a bite of your steak. “He quit being in the medical field now he’s working for some sort of nonprofit. He asks about you too… if I’m being honest”.
You figured now would be a perfect time for a joke, “Jealous?”.
Robby let out a laugh, shaking his head as he took a bite of his food, gruff deep in his throat, it sent you butterflies for a very odd reason. “No… No” his eyes shot up to yours, “Mainly just how you’ve been or how you’re doing” he clarified. Yes, he was jealous, jealous that despite his only trials of trying to live a life without you, everyone remembers him as a part of you. And he wouldn’t wish it any differently…
The night grew colder in Pittsburgh. It was the end of Summer for heaven’s sake. As you both walked side by side, your arms around your torso as his hands were stuffed in his pockets. Your hotel wasn’t far, he insisted on walking you just to be safe.
“How was Louisiana?” you asked, your breathing louder than usual to account for the oppressive glacial weather. Your nose was freezing, even dripping slightly from the harsh change of weather.
“You heard about that?” he scrunched his nose, taking a long inhale from the cold as well. He shook his head as he gathered his thoughts. “It was good… got stuck in the middle of Katrina, it was a huge mess”.
“Looks like we both got fucked over by Bush” you joked, earning a laugh from him. He nodded, looking up and seeing the street, your townhome was supposed to be here. Yet it was nowhere to be found?
“No way” he breathed, looking at the atrocity in front of him. Where was once your beautiful townhome and next door neighbors deckers, a beautiful brown brick, reminiscent of Pittsburgh finest architecture, was now an Apple Store? “I have to say that’s a first” he said in awe, mostly shock. He’s lived here for years since Louisiana yet he never seemed to notice the former address of his seemingly ceased to exist.
“You wouldn’t see that in Tuxedo, New York that’s why” you cleared your throat, continuing your walk as Robby stood behind. His heart was breaking almost, you made memories in that townhome, memories he would give anything to have back. Now in addition to your absence, the place that held those memories was also seemingly gone.
“What do you mean?”.
You took a breath, having to explain class disparities to a man you once almost shared a last name with was also a first for you. “Chicago is like that everywhere, poorer communities can’t get a nearby “luxury” grocery store because of purposeful redlining but they sure love to hike up rent prices” you told him.
“You live in Chicago?”.
You nodded, “Humboldt Park baby” you prided, “Right by the Bean, been living there for a couple years”.
“Done with Pittsburgh?”.
Taking a pause, you thought about it briefly. “I could never be done with this place” you assured, looking over the street you once lived on. “Right there,” you pointed, “I was drunk and you had to carry me back to the house. I lost my heels that night and there…” you pointed to the left towards a bench, “a kid broke his ankle while skating and you and I had to stay with him until the paramedics came”.
“Good memory” he complimented, not realizing you had an attachment to Pittsburgh that didn’t fully correlate to him. “Ever think of moving back? Working at the Pitt?”.
“God no,” you shot out a breath. “I’m pretty sure the nurses hate me for leaving you, unless Jack and Dana are still working there then no”.
Robby went stiff for a moment, gaining a confused look from you. “What?” you quipped, the change in his body language was stark, unnerving.
“We aren’t on the best of terms… Jack and I” he flinched from the confession. “Haven’t been for a couple of years”.
You nodded, “You sure know how to make enemies Robinavitch” you told him. “I know. We kept in touch distantly, never got around to talking about work and stuff.”.
“But I’m a topic of discussion?”.
“You’re just as much a topic of discussion as Abby is” you told him, “You forget you were a huge part of my life for a near decade Robby. If anything you branded me as a spinster”.
He looked at his shoes, feeling regretful. “I shouldn’t have come to this…” he shook his head, “I’m sorry”.
“About?” you quipped. A part of you wanted him to suffer almost, he’s hurt you, seeing him hurts and feels as if someone’s repeatedly stabbing you every time you spare a glance his way. “Janey seems like a good woman” you spoke into the air, turning your body to look directly at him. Licking your lips as silence occupied the conversation, “You’re right. We shouldn’t have done this” you agreed.
The air was thinning around you. Why did you wear your lucky bra and underwear? He’s happy, happy in a relationship with Janey and is happy being a father figure to her son. Why did you spend several hours scouring her Facebook, wishing so desperately it was you and Tatum.
“Tatum” you spoke up, “I like Tatum”.
The memory rang through your head, breaking your heart right in front of him. You already dug your grave, why not just dig deeper? “Do you think…” you cut yourself off. Yet he was intrigued, earshot, waiting. Standing there, awkward and unnerved, you loved the man in front of you, you once were whole with him. Yearning, you were yearning for something you didn’t know you missed until you boarded those several planes. “Nevermind”.
“I think we would’ve” he answered, knowing wholeheartedly your intent. “It’s too late now though”.
Tears stung on your waterline, biting your lip and looking away in shame. “Passed my biological clock I guess” you shook your head, your heart was pounding beneath your ribcage, oppressively mocking you. “Probably wouldn’t have been able to carry to term anyways so… it doesn’t really matter does it?”
“There was nothing you could have done—“.
“I know.” you deadpanned, scoffing a breath out of you, you were a doctor, a surgeon at that. You studied women’s health in medical school, did a sub-I in obstetrics and gynecology. You knew just as much as he did. “Still would’ve been nice…” you told him.
He stood there and studied you, seeing you in your rawest form in years. “Yeah… maybe”.
That was the last you’ve seen or heard of Robby. But now in the confines of a PPE having had to pack a woman’s wounds who got into a car accident, whose injuries were the same as yours, whose lung filled with blood, who had just been heading home from work. It sent you into a spiral, led you to the roof to get some air.
“Figured you’d be here” Robby spoke up as he saw the entire of your PPE on the floor beside you, having not been afforded time for fresh air for the past two days since you’ve slept in an on-call room.
You took a breath, closing your eyes. “Go away Michael” you told him, cold and conflicted. His presence was comforting yet it wasn’t comparable or nulling the complete detachment from reality you felt.
Robby, being Robby, didn't leave. He stood there, watching over you. In reality, he was in position to give you advice, having already been going on his third breakdown this week and it was barely Tuesday.
“I still remember that day.” he cleared his throat, leading you to furrow your brows in confusion. “Monty threatened me with suspension after I punched the dude that hit you” he went on, taking small strides to meet you at the safety bars, your stethoscope dangling in the wind as it hung on them. “You uh—“ he took a breath, gathering his words, “You were bleeding out on the bed, screaming and I—“.
“I don’t need this right now Michael” you cut him off, shaking your head as you realized you had been crying for the past several minutes. You turned to look at him, he was overstepping, inputting himself in your emotions in the worst way possible. Grabbing your stethoscope from its place, “I think about it too, way too fucking often”. You took a moment as you stared daggers at the man who simply wanted to help you, “I think about what if I took a different way, I could’ve avoided it and I would’ve probably been able to carry to fucking term but instead, the universe would rather punish me and have my uterus become septic or! The funniest trick in the book, have me miscarry at 20 and 25 weeks!” you were yelling by then, hurting and hurting the man in front of you who had to take you to the ER both of those times.
The man who didn’t get sleep those nights, who saw you wake up in a panicked state. Who had to clean the sheets when you got back from the hospital as you slept on the living room couch. It took you awhile to realize it was his loss just as much as it was yours, he just had an odd way of showing it.
You still remember the pain, the scream you let out from shock as your sheets were coated a deep crimson, it wasn’t fair. Robby still remembers the drive to and from the hospital, the sterile maternity ward and each of the nurses' names that helped you through your labor. He remembers the feeling, the detachment, and more importantly the guilt that followed as he blamed himself for getting you in this position.
“Is it always going to that?”.
“What?” you breathed out, figuring he didn’t listen to half of what you just vented about.
“That we never had kids?” Robby was frustrated, not at you, mostly at the situation that has led to holding your relationship to a standard he couldn’t reach. “Is that why we didn’t… work?”.
You looked at him bewildered by his curiosity. “No” you deadpanned, shaking your head as you looked down at your feet. “We didn’t work because you have a rich family I couldn’t see myself being a part of unless you put your foot down. We didn’t work because instead of talking to and comforting me, you would rather combat the things that hurt me which eventually didn’t work when it was you. We didn’t work because I couldn’t be in the house and look at certain things without feeling inadequate. We also didn’t work because we were long gone before I even was pregnant”.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep and nutrition but something snapped between the two of you. Exhausted beyond measure, increasingly irritated by the second.
“You know I tried Y/n” he was short with you, not to the point of yelling but still, curt and angry at you and the status of your relationship. “I tried, I was there, I was—“.
“You weren’t” you bluntly cut him off. “Do you think being there physically even mattered when you were drunk most of it? Or worse not even fucking talking to me? Do you expect a gold fucking medal— look at me! I’m Michael Robinavitch, instead of talking to the woman I loved and thought I was going to marry, I’ll just stay there standing until she breaks and then I’ll probably intervene”.
“You act like you were innocent in all of this”.
“I wasn’t” you confessed, willingly digging up the bones in your closet. “But I never once took that out on you and the one time I did, you never saw me again”.
He remained silent, still staring at you as his body temperature began to drop from the heat the anger caused. You were right, again.
“Peter gave me the trauma department and I said yes” you told him as the pregnant pause made you uneasy, “But if we can’t work together… I’ll get on a plane and maybe your damn boss can find someone new. I’m not here for you, I’m here for him”.
As you were walking away, it was typical Robby to speak up when it is far too late. “I miss you,” he spoke up. It took everything in you to not give in, not reciprocate as much as you wanted. Betraying your own human nature.
“No you don’t” you cleared your throat. Looking back at him, “Do you even think about her?”.
“Who?”.
You scoffed out a feigned smile, nodding from the sudden realization. Sure, it probably wouldn’t be the first thing to strike his mind. But you never had that choice. You never were able to fully disconnect yourself from it. Not in stores passing the maternity section or walking by parents and their children. You weren’t allowed to make that decision.
“You know, you really lucked out with Jake at least” your voice broke slightly, you weren’t even aware you were capable of feeling this form of envy, towards Michael of all people, “You got to be a dad and I got to be the woman who left you… I’ll see you tomorrow”.
Tomorrow, and the next day, then the day after that, followed by five years of working side by side with each other. With bumps, particularly on the fifth anniversary of Adamson’s death.
“I just think he feels guilty from missing the funeral” you sighed at Dana, looking over at Jack. “What’s wrong with you?”.
“That MVC vet, called time of death ten minutes ago” he told you as he typed aggressively on the computer, “Let Robby know I’ll be getting some air please, if he so pleases to ask”.
As Jack walked off, you yelled back at him, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t!”. Earning a genuine middle finger as he walked towards the elevator.
Dana looked back and forth between you, “What’s going on there?” she nudged with her elbow, raising her brows up and down. “You know I always thought you two would be cute”.
“Always? Even when I was engaged?”.
“Well no. But I don’t know…” she shrugged, “C’mon you guys would be cute! No one would hate you for it!”.
Heather looked between you both just as she was clocking in, “Who?”.
“Y/n and Jack” Dana told her immediately, gaining a pinch from you. Heather looked back at you, shrugging with a playful nod. “How are you feeling honey?”.
“I almost did not believe I had the capability of vomiting so much” she groaned having just relieved herself a few minutes prior.
“Lavender,” you spoke, meeting her gaze, “It’s not an all cure but I would spray lavender bed spray and rub oil on my pulse points and it calmed something down enough for me to not want to puke my guts out in the morning”.
Heather mentally noted, “Pretty holistic Doctor L/n did you get that from Abbot?” she joked, she too, gained a pinch from you as you walked off.
“Hey!” Dana shouted just as you were going to fully settle in, “You know who is coming in today, he made sure to tell me last night in the middle of the fucking Pirates game”.
You gave her a thumbs up as you beelined to the break room, meeting with the likes of Langdon. “Y’gonna give me shit today or should I ask Mohan if she would like to observe surgery?” you asked, walking straight over to the coffee pot, gaining a near shocked look from him, “What?”.
“Since when did you want us to observe?”.
Pouring your coffee, you took a second to get an actual excuse rather than wanting to distract these kids from the potential of Robby snapping at them just in case. “It’s policy, I could be miles away and trauma surgery is both advanced and vital… Gloria talked about it in the department meeting… not too long ago”.
Frank narrowed his eyes at you, “Is Robby coming in today?”. All you could do was nod as the bitter coffee taste was introduced to your tongue. “You don’t always need to be his saving grace”.
Your brows knitting together, “Since am I the saving grace and not Jack?”.
“Since you two were almost married” he shrugged, Cassie had just walked in on your conversation, “McKay you see it don’t you? The Robinavitch’s are codependent”. She breathed out a smile having been caught off guard, looking at you then back to Langdon.
“I wouldn’t take his—“.
“I see it but… that’s how everyone is when they share chemistry together hell I would’ve—“.
“Ok this conversation is over! Langdon since you love to intrude in my personal life I will be asking Mohan. Cassie I love you girl and if he’s a dick today call me and I’ll fire him” you smiled back at her as you walked out of the break room, only to be met with the bicep of Robby as he and Jack came back from the roof. “Ow” you breathed out, his bicep ramming straight into the bone of your nose.
It earned a look from everyone. To be honest, you both were their favorite form of television they didn’t have to pay for. Some weeks, there were good episodes, you go home smiling. Others it’s anger and you go home wanting to throw daggers at a photo of him. Most, it’s pain, not a sharp and temporarily occurring tolerable pain with medicine, no, this was terminal. It was going home holding in your tears as your homes were on opposite ends of a city you both fell in love in. Going home, dropping your keys on the foyer table and hearing the inhospitable silence just occupy a space like a stranger in your home. More importantly, it was Robby as a concept. The Robby you fell in love with in your twenties and left just as you were approaching your thirties. It was unfair that he held parts of you, as much as you figured it was unfair to him, if he even thought that deeply about you after all.
The day was a shit show— a tragedy that even made the already grieving atmosphere worse, as you stood at Jake's bedside as his doctor just after you got out of your sixth surgery.
“Do you want me to see if your mom is here?” you offered, your voice timid and careful as his outburst at Robby made him increasingly sensitive. He grabbed a hold of your hand like instinct, having just been traumatized he needed something to not regress into, for the time being, you were it.
It wasn’t the most comfortable of situations, being there as Jake refused to let you go even after Janey showed up. It took you having to pull his mom aside to talk for him to budge and spare his time on his phone as Dana took over.
“He’s in a lot of shock, I’m sure Robby already told you the severity of it” you explained, not knowing where to look. You once envied this woman on the other side of a computer screen. “I can leave you a few numbers of counselors for PTSD support, they certainly helped me” you rambled, pulling out your phone from your scrubs pocket along with your notepad to scribble on the phone numbers.
“He still loves you, you know?” Janey spoke up, her voice grainy as she was just completely worried about her son as the relief hit her upon seeing him, “Today’s always hard for him and… he loves you. He’d never shut up about it even when we were… I know this is probably inappropriate but he told me about how you guys were almost—“.
You shook your head, now was not the time you needed to have your trauma regurgitated by a woman who loved the man you were set on marrying when you were in your twenties, the man who her son saw as a secondary father figure. “It’s in the past” you told her, “Which I need to go look for him because these kids need at least some sort of speech to end the night,” faking a smile before handing her the piece of paper, running straight into Frank during the process.
“Have you seen Robby?” he asked as his nerves were at an all time high, his sweat beading on his forehead, there was irritation laced in his voice.
You shook your head, knowing well he was on the roof by now but today wasn’t his day or anyone else’s day. “Go home Frank” you softly told him, Robby made sure to relay Frank’s information to you as he thought you’d have a more harsh approach to how to deal with him, “Please?”. Frank saw the tiredness in your eyes, signaling to him that you weren’t mad nor did you have the capacity to be mad.
Fall in Pittsburgh was enough to send the ache in your bones at an all time high, the cold air stinging your skin and drying the once moisturized parts of your body upon contact. Seeing Robby’s back in the same position you once were during the pandemic several times.
“Did you ever feel like just doing it?” He questioned out of morbid curiosity and as a way of comfort in knowing his feelings weren’t the only things at stake, knowing his problems may be minuscule in comparison.
You sat at the safety bars, seeing the city skyline. “When I lost our third one, I did. Even had Jack hide it from you” you told him, “You were at Stacy’s house for the week to watch her kids and I got too overwhelmed being alone, kind of just spiraled from there… I called Dana who called Jack and he came, made me vomit all the pills I swallowed”. You confessed so candidly knowing there was nothing else to lose in regards to your relationship with Robby. He shook his head, looking down at his feet, his breath shaking.
“You could’ve told me”.
“I could’ve told you a lot of things” you emphasized, “But that doesn’t really matter now that we’re older and wiser… even though certainly the habit doesn’t die out”.
He looked back at you, you met him with a genuine comforting gaze and smile. “Do you regret it?” he asked, candidly, knowing he wouldn’t hate you regardless of the response.
You took a breath, nodding in response, “You were everything to me Robby”. When you were nervous, you would ramble, “The father of our unborn kids, guy who made me laugh for a good decade, more importantly my in case of emergency which, sorry about the whole thing in Paris”.
Eighth rule: remember to update your emergency contact information post-breakup especially when it was barely approaching a year and Robby was stuck in the throes of Mardi Gras celebrations in New Orleans.
He smiled, laughing from the memory of getting a call from a hospital in Paris that you had gotten your appendix removed after a long night of an appendicitis attack. “I could have tried harder, held you tighter or whatever the saying is”.
You shrugged, “Can’t mellow about the past Robby especially since I haunt your every move”. Looking down at your watch towards the inside of your wrist, “C’mon those kids need some words of wisdom or else you’re going to have a stressful year ahead of you”.
“This is your department too,” he shot back playfully. Earning a quirked brow from you.
“I’m upstairs away from the chaos majority of the time, so no”.
TL;DR: you and your partners all wear a respirator mask in public; go slow raising your heart rate including sexually 6-8 weeks after having covid; take 2-3 rapid tests spaced 48 hours apart each or a NAAT test before sex; don't fuck anyone currently feeling sick; filter the air in your sex location; make a "bubble" of folks you unmask around; track wastewater covid levels and increase precautions during surges; keep up with your vaccines; have phone or video sex!
1. wear a well-fitted respirator mask in public - or the best mask available to you - and only fuck people who also do so
arguably the single most important safety step is to make sure that you and your partners are masking in public, especially indoors, ESPECIALLY in crowds. make sure you are wearing respirators if at all possible - (k)n95s, kf94s, ffp2/3s, or greater - as cloth and surgical masks have significantly less protection against COVID. that said, surgical masks are better than cloth masks, and cloth masks are at least somewhat better than nothing!
make sure the masks fit your face shape and that there are no gaps between the edges of the mask and your face, because otherwise you will be breathing unfiltered air through the gaps! this includes facial hair. unfortunately it's sold out right now, but if you have the money to pool with your community to get one, Fit Tests For All has a home diy fit testing kit for $50 USD that they restock when enough people apply to buy some. if not, holding your hands around the edges of your mask and blowing out to see if you feel the air can help.
and if you're going to a kink play event, PLEASE wear a mask!!! immunocompromised people as well as every covid conscious person deserve to exist in kink and sexual spaces safely. don't isolate us from the community and joy to be had!
reach out to your local mask bloc if you need help finding masks! look up "(your city/county) mask bloc" to find one.
2. avoid raising your heart rate if you have COVID, and go slow + monitor for 6-8 weeks after - this includes masturbation and sex - to lessen chances of long COVID
the risks of contracting long COVID increase significantly with activity that raises your heart rate too high for 6-8 weeks after COVID. most places only talk about exercise, which should also be monitored and returned to slowly, but it applies to sex and masturbation too. possibly even heavy making out, since that will likely raise your heartrate.
waiting fucking sucks, but you could face severe health problems for the rest of your life that could be avoided if you go ahead when you need to rest. listen to your body, stop if you're getting winded easily, and start slowly, ie with 10 mins of masturbation or sex, then 15, then 20.
3. take a NAAT test, or 2-3 spaced out rapid tests, before unmasking around a non household member - many covid cases are asymptomatic AND contagious, and can cause long COVID!
rapid tests only catch around 10% of asymptomatic positive cases in one go (see readmore below for source), and often give false negatives in general. the accuracy increases pretty significantly if you take 3 tests over 5 days (take one test, take the second 48 hours after the first, take the third 48 hours after the second); 3 tests each 48 hours apart catches asymptomatic cases 75% of the time, and 2 tests 48 hours apart catches symptomatic cases 92% of the time. 2 times is still much better than 1 for asymptomatic.
you'll have more accurate results if you can get or borrow a NAAT reader, such as the metrix or pluslife. these at-home tests have much higher accuracy (the metrix test catches 97% of positive cases, including asymptomatic), essentially PCR-level accuracy while being much faster, and cheaper. unfortunately they are still quite expensive, but if you can afford one or even can pool resources with community members to share a reader, it's a very high accuracy way to test.
if your partner tests positive and/or has illness symptoms, it is, perhaps obviously, much better to wait until they feel better and test negative to see them!
reach out to your local mask bloc if you need help accessing testing resources!
4. make the space you're having sex in safer by using air filtration
maybe you live with people who don't mask, or who work public-facing jobs. even if not, it's always best to keep the room you're having sex in as clean as possible. if you can get a HEPA filter, that's the best possible filtration. if not, a higher-quality air filter, or a diy box fan setup also filter the air. and if that's too expensive, setting up a fan in front of an open window to blow fresh air into the room will help. put a towel under the crack in the door, if you live with people who engage in high-risk behavior (ie don't mask in public, especially if they're gone to crowded events recently).
5. consider making a "bubble," like lots of people did earlier in the pandemic
create a bubble with your sexual partner(s), friends, anyone who you want to unmask around. remember, the bigger this bubble is, the higher the risk. and if anyone in your bubble doesn't mask in public, or shares unfiltered air with (including lives with and does not mask in the house around) people who don't mask in public, your "bubble" turns into the whole world.
6. pay attention to wastewater levels, and consider avoiding higher-risk activity/taking more precautions during COVID surges
if you live in the U.S., check the covid wastewater scan site and search your zip code, or the people's CDC "weather" reports if your zip code doesn't have data provided, to calculate risk. i unfortunately am not aware of sites for other countries (please add them if you have them!), but make sure to get your data only from wastewater, as it's the only accurate measure due to lax testing.
if you can't afford to test every time you unmask around people out of your bubble, consider doing so when surges arrive. if you want to have sex during a surge and can't access tests, it's obviously not ideal, but you can have sex while wearing masks! just make sure they're breathable enough (i recommend duckbill n95s for this), that they don't fall off your face, and that you take breaks.
7. don't forget about sexting, phone sex, and video sex!
if there's a surge, if you want to have sex with someone who engages in high risk behavior, if you have multiple partners and can't all take precautions, if one of you is quarantining after potential exposure or high risk situation like a concert, hospital visit, plane flight, etc, don't forget about remote sex! obviously it's not the same as physically having sex, but as many of us on here know, sexting and phone/video sex can still be a great time, and is often much better than no sex at all.
8. stay up to date on vaccines as much as possible! while they do not completely prevent covid from spreading, they decrease your chance of catching it and of getting long COVID if you do
9. remember that you don't have to choose between lowering risk and being sexually active! you can take measured risks, and if you can't take all of these steps, any is always better than none. stay safer, keep everyone around you safer, and have fun!
(original source is behind a paywall, hence screenshot)
Hi, I was just wondering if you could share some of more of what you think Tim could be up to in the future? e.g, his hero identity, job as a civilian, friendships, etc. Side note your fics are so awesome sauce!! Them and Star Trek got me through a recent bout of the flu, so thanks
oooh good question!!!! (also oughgh the flu is evil, i hope you're doing better <3 glad my writing was a comfort while u were down!!)
i really like putting tim in metropolis in the future. specifically, i like putting him in lois lane's purse as a journalist, but also i like placing him at the steelworks as like. john henry and nat's buddy! he's also a tinkerer (although not any sort of engineering prodigy like them), and he'd enjoy being a backup Superman's Gadget Guy to john henry. (suck on that, emil hamilton </3)
i do think he maintains a hero identity (i'm partial to rook), but he's Much less active in the field than he used to be. this is because being immunocompromised gets his ass and he has to grapple with the shocking reality of "when the disability is disabling", i.e. he has a major sepsis incident and nearly dies and that's a big wakeup call. not so much because he almost died of an illness (he's used to that lol!! hashtag the clench!!) but specifically because at one point when he's in the hospital, he wakes up a little bit while in a haze of antibiotics and fever and hes only like a little bit awake, but its just awake enough to register kon at his bedside silently sobbing. bc all the superstrength and ttk in the world and hes still completely helpless here. and tim doesnt wake up enough to say anything but that image/memory Haunts Him and hes just so moody and pensive and mulling over it as he recovers.
so that's like the big prelude to "tim going into journalism and becoming a gadget guy for the supercommunity" to me. it's also a point for tim & babs stuff. he has to sit on the floor next to her and pout about it and then also put his foot directly into his mouth while trying to be like "babs how did you adjust to this life :(" like
tim: ugh it's just so--i don't know how you stand it!!!
babs: i don't, honestly.
tim:
babs:
tim: i. thats not. i didnt mean that like.
babs: SNRK
what i also like to do with him when he's a little older (like in his 30s) is placing him in charge of training and mentoring a team of up and coming teenage heroes, i.e. tim's "oh god i understand red tornado completely" arc. it's deeply entertaining to me. need him to be griping like "and i just don't understand why she thinks it's a good idea to stick her nose into all of this when like, she's all of fourteen--" and dick just starts laughing at him. also all of his kids think kon is so cool that they agree when he starts going on about ttk and they dont' even care about tim theatrically groaning in the background.
but yeah im a journalist tim/superfam gadget guy in metropolis tim who dabbles in mentoring teenagers on the side truther <3 it's enrichment for him and also a way to keep him involved in hero business (bc he is never getting out. we know this. he is never getting out) while also letting him actually be disabled!
