#rabbitbitxh

[drmckayera]

💖

Send a 💖 if your muse finds my muse attractive.

"If you ask me.. I'm not sure why people find me so attractive.." She shakes her head. "I'm a damned mess."

[blckfckinmsk]

"Oh... sorry. I don't think I'm allowed to treat injuries off campus. I think only the street team is allowed to leave hospital grounds for treatment.." (resident Robby)

୧ ‧₊˚ 🔪💋 ⋅  ────  "So letting this guy bleed out is just fine?" Maybe they were being a bit dramatic considering the man's injuries weren't that severe, but it felt effective enough to lean on. But Roman couldn't afford to lose men in any way right now.

[setitallaflame]

Closed starter for @rabbit-bitxh

Sofia had been spat at, threatened, and called a myriad of names (one of which she would have to Google later) after only three hours into her shift. She supposed there was a comfort in knowing that, no matter which ED she was working at, some things never changed.

She approached the hub to discuss the patient in Room 4 with Charge Nurse Evans - she suspected pneumonia, but they were still waiting for her chest x-ray and her blood tests to come back - when a man passed through. She offered him a small smile and a nod of the head, introducing herself, “I’m Sofia Donoven - new ED Attending. And you are?”

She was prepared for an interruption, for one or both of them to be whisked off in different directions or pulled into a trauma together, meaning introductions would have to wait. Still, she’d made an attempt, and now she’d adjust as was necessary - another thing about this job that would never change.

[drmckayera]

🌺Send this to ten blogs you think are wonderful.🌺

Me? Oh my goodness darling thank you. I know I've been keeping you all waiting lately and I feel SUPER bad about it. I'm currently working on replying and drafting everything. You are absolutely sweet for this, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply to it! I love you darling!

[medicusfemina]

"There is not enough coffee in the world to prepare me for this shift." (For any of your muses)

"Another day in paradise," she hums sardonically as she idly sips her warm, caffeinated beverage, "The talk show I saw this morning said something about envisioning the ideal setting of your current environment in times of stress. Must not have been considering hospitals in that one..."

[artificialnocturnc]

@rabbit-bitxh asked:  “you okay?” (for whoever)

It’s warm…the summer air sits heavy over the city and she sits on the railings. Arms wrapped over the top bar of metal, head resting on her arms as she sits on the bottom rail. Mel is sure it must look childish as she gently swings her legs back and forth, small enough to do so without her feet scuffing off the roof top but who cares. Who cares if it's childish. 

She’s alone and she hates it and it’s all that she wants all at the same time. 

It’s not that she wants to go over the edge, if she did she was sure that she wouldn't be sitting on this side of the railing…but she craves the distance. The separation from the day that she had, and would really rather, never repeat ever again. 

Mel knows who it is speaking before she looks to confirm, but if she’s a little honest, it’s one of the last people she wants to talk to right now. She takes only a small glance over her shoulder before turning back to the city. 

She sits her head back on her arms and looks out at the city. Eyes trained on all those little motes of colour, little starbursts and exploding balls of colour and she thinks about how…all of them must be so happy. 

That there's so many happy people out there, happy with other people, with families and friends and she doesn’t understand why she is not one of them. Mel has done everything that was asked of her. Taken care of her sister, went to school, became educated, started a career, worked hard…and she is left here. Alone. 

She supposes, getting half of what you wished for isn’t so rare. 

Then, she realises that she’s taking forever and an age to answer him. So long in fact, that even she becomes uncomfortable with the long screaming silence. 

“Yes…no…” no she’s not okay, but she doesn’t see the point in elaborating, nor does she have it in her heart to lie to him. Mel wasn't a liar, either on purpose or by omission. Though, maybe sometimes she thinks she should, she’s aware there’s answers that she’s meant to give in these kinds of situations. Like society had just agreed that people answered questions a certain way in order to…do something she doesn’t understand. 

So, she confirms, with the answer she thinks is the correct one.

“Yes…”

[medicusfemina]

@rabbit-bitxh (ꨄ︎)

His grasp on her shoulders is sobering.

Whoa, whoa. Okay, so this is a little more than she bargained for. Then again, maybe it isn't. With such a brash move on her part, what exactly did she expect?

This is precisely why she's always reminding herself to think things through, to not act without careful deliberation. Her past self, the one sans sobriety, was reckless and brazen, causing herself endless problems she often had to claw her way out of. But now she's a doctor — a mother — she can't afford to be so careless in her actions.

Cassie, however, knows exactly why she's done this. Robby is frustrating, rigid, and combative — yet he's also challenging, bewildering, and enthralling. He excites her. To have such enthusiasm ignited inside her is such a rare thing, she can't help but chase the feeling.

He's right though, isn't he? Something like this doesn't come without risk, without discord and complication. What a fool she's made herself out to be.

Trembling fingers unfurling from his belt, she gapes up at him like a poor, dumb codfish.

"Yeah, no, you're totally right."

Taking a step back, she huffs something akin to a shuddered exhale, horrified by her disregard for workplace propriety.

"I think I'll take five...and proceed to burrow straight into the ground."

The latter part is mumbled in utter embarrassment.

[medicusfemina]

@rabbit-bitxh (ꨄ︎)

There's an undeniable melancholia about Robby, one she recognizes from personal experience. Carol and sorrow are well acquainted. Maybe that's what draws her to him in the first place, what makes her reach out to touch him mid conversation.

Her lithe fingers carefully explore the soft flesh of his girth, her attraction evident in the pinkening of her cheeks as she glances up with dark, low lashed eyes. This is so unlike her. She's not normally this forward.

Worried she may have overstepped — perhaps put him off entirely — her hand retracts, curling to her chest in remorse as she looks away with uncertainty.

"Sorry. That was...I - I don't know what came over me."

That's a lie, though, isn't it? The desire to know him and be known by him is irrefutable.