Real Men Wear Tiaras || Iceman

Why no one write a slow burn beautiful fanfic about dumbledore and Newt obliviously falling for each other . I thought I could I count on you guys 😣😣

False God Masterlist

Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader

“I’m with you because everything you do, you do because you know it’s right. I’m with you,” he whispered now, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “I’m with you because you remind me that there is good in this world. And I would die before I let that good be lost…I would die for you, if it meant the world got to see what you had to offer.”

False God Playlist

A Terrible Timeline

A Permanent Paycheck (drabble)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Three Good Things (drabble)

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Religion’s in Your Lips (drabble)

Part 13

A Love Like Religion (drabble)

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Devils Roll the Dice (drabble)

Part 17

Part 18

Paper Cut Stings (drabble)

Blind Faith (drabble)

A Really Good Lawyer (drabble)

Literally my life

reading fics is like

Me: *reads fanfiction*

Me: *feels very happy because everything is going ok in fic*

Me: *notices, that that's only the middle of the book*

Me: *sighs* you are going to break my heart, are you?

@mo-mode you. 👏 are. 👏 a. 👏 GENIUS. 👏 NO WONDER WE WERE ALL GETTING THOSE OG WATTPAD/TUMBLR VIBES UGH I LOVE IT~

saviors & healers- Robby x oc social worker! part one: the healer. - part two. - part three.

ꫂ ၴႅၴ slow enemies-ish to friends to possible lovers(?) trope- lol ꫂ age gap! ꫂ ၴႅၴ dr langdon certified hater. ꫂ ၴႅၴ warnings: swear count. panic attacks. violence. suicide ideation discussion. ꫂ ၴႅၴ word count: 4.9k.

masterlist:

__

Dr. Nina Wojicki was practically burning holes through Dr. Robby’s skull. No—scratch that. She was.

The tension in the Pitt was thick enough to scalpel, and it had been since the second she stepped foot inside. Her presence always stirred the air, but today it was sharper. Louder. Angrier.

And the number one name on her helllist—as the rest of the Pitt liked to call it—was Dr. Robby.

She never called him that, though. No, she made a point to call him Michael, every time, no matter how many times he corrected her. It wasn’t petty. It was strategic.

Her stubbornness had long become legendary in the Pitt—equal parts intriguing and exhausting. And today, Michael could feel it in his bones.

Fresh from the University of Chicago with a PhD in Social Work and newly thirty, Nina had wasted no time making the ER her personal battlefield. Charm when needed, daggers when not. She wasn’t here to be liked. She was here to do the damn job—and she was damn good at it.

Michael knew that. Maybe a little too well.

Currently, she was scrolling through the system at the nurses’ station, eyes narrowing at the patient logs. Her tongue clicked once. Then again. Then a third time, sharper now.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “Of course he didn’t log him.”

Across the room, Michael didn’t need to look up. He heard the click. Felt the shift. He knew she was coming.

He braced himself.

Langdon, ever the observant one, caught the look in Michael’s eyes and turned just in time to see the ash-brunette stomping their way. Her hands were buried in the pockets of her coat, fingers twitching around a bundle of Flair pens.

Bad sign.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Wojicki,” Langdon greeted, arms folded and eyes dancing. “To what do we owe this… delightful appearance?”

She shot him a look, then turned to Michael without skipping a beat. “Your incompetent doctor here didn’t log in the psych patient from this morning.”

Michael didn’t flinch, eyes still on the chart in front of him. He was already preparing for the storm. “Oh no,” he said dryly. “The horror.”

Nina’s jaw tightened. Langdon chuckled.

“Don’t even start, Jumpy,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

He smirked. “Relax, Miss Fidgety. What earth-shattering crime did I commit this time?”

She cocked an eyebrow, sarcasm sharpened like a scalpel. “You didn’t enter the 8 a.m. patient’s info. The one I evaluated. I don’t have access to his file, and now I can’t input my follow-up diagnosis.”

Langdon stepped in. “He’s not your patient, Nina.”

“Excuse me?” Her fire ignited. “He has schizophrenia, Franky. That makes him my patient.”

“It’s not confirmed schizophrenia. It’s a symptom cluster. We don’t slap labels on one visit.”

“Oh, please.” She scoffed. “You wouldn’t have paged me if you didn’t suspect it was psychological and not physical.”

“I didn’t make that call,” Langdon snapped. His eyes flicked to Michael.

Michael still hadn’t looked up.

But he was listening. Every word. Every heartbeat.

Nina pivoted again, now arms crossed. “Wanna speak up, Dr. Michael?” she asked, each word sugarcoated in attitude.

Finally, he shut the file with a satisfying snap and walked past Langdon, slapping the chart into his chest. “Follow me,” he muttered, not sparing either of them a glance.

Nina narrowed her eyes, growling under her breath as she stalked after him.

“So it was you,” she hissed. “You made the call. You looped me in.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. He knew she’d follow. He always knew.

They reached the on-call room. He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

She shut it behind her with a loud click.

“You gonna keep ignoring me, or are we going to have a grown-up conversation?” Nina asked, arms still crossed.

Michael turned, finally facing her. His shoulders tense, jaw tight.

“You stormed into the Pitt like a damn hurricane, Nina. You wanna talk about grown-up behavior?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer I just let bad patient documentation slide? Want me to play nice while someone falls through the cracks?”

His jaw twitched. “No. But you could try not lighting the place on fire every time you find a mistake.”

She stepped closer. “Maybe if people around here actually did their jobs, I wouldn’t have to play fire marshal.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t mocking. It was tired. Honest. “You always this intense, or do I just bring out your best?”

Her lips parted slightly, caught off guard by the way he said it. Not mocking. Not amused. Just… low. Real.

“You bring out something, that’s for sure,” she muttered. Her voice wavered. Just enough for him to catch it.

They stood there—too long. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was dense. Like grief. Like something was about to be said and neither wanted to be the one to break it.

He took a step closer. So did she.

Close enough now that he could see the slight tremble in her fingertips. The crease between her brows. The way her breath hitched before she spoke.

“I paged you because I trust your gut,” he said finally. “Not because I needed a lecture.”

Her breath caught halfway in her throat. “Then next time, say that. Don’t leave me out in the Pitt to fight with Frank like I’m the problem.”

“You’re not the problem,” he said—quiet. Fast. Like it had been waiting to leave his mouth. “You’re just the only one brave enough to yell about it.”

That silenced her.

He studied her—every flicker of emotion she tried to smother.

“You act like everyone hates you here.”

“They don’t have to like me,” she muttered.

“No. But I think some of us do,” he said—and added, almost too quiet to hear—“a little too much.”

Her eyes darted to his.

The air cracked.

It wasn’t a kiss. Not even a touch. But his hand brushed the door handle like he needed to remind himself where the line was.

She didn’t move. Neither did he.

Finally, he spoke. Voice hoarse. “You should probably go document your follow-up. We’ll talk again—just… maybe not in front of the whole ER next time.”

Her lips twitched, somewhere between a smirk and a challenge. “Sure. If you grow a spine and back me up next time.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Deal.”

But as she brushed past him—shoulder to shoulder—neither of them said what they were really thinking.

__

Dr. Nina had just gotten in for the early evening and overnight shift, which she dreaded. But at least there was an upside: Dr. Abbot; who quite honestly felt like her dad in some ways.

Was her father a doctor? No, he was a lawyer. Was her dad a fisher? Also, no. Was he kind, empathetic, but also had a sarcastic side? Yes and yes. Was he also grey haired? Triple yes.

She hadn’t turned on her pinger when her phone rang at her desk, just as she sat down. Her nostrils flared as her mouth clenched, and she picked up the phone.

“Yes?” she spat a little too quickly—and quickly felt guilt seep into her abdomen.

Dr. Robby on the other side was taken back for a moment before speaking, “Dr. Nina? We need you down in the Pitt for a moment—”

She cut him off. “Dr. Michael, I can’t come down at this moment. Is Dr. Alfaro there? Or Dr. Murphy?” she questioned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She thought of the other social workers who could’ve just arrived or were already there.

She heard Dr. Michael sigh. “Well, yes, but—”

She cut him off again. “I can’t come down, Dr. Robinavitch. You need to find someone else.”

She stated his full name, promptly ending the conversation.

Dr. Michael stood there for a brief few seconds before nodding. “Of course, Dr. Wojicki,” he declared before hanging up.

He stood with his hand finally retreating from the corded phone, his eyebrows crinkled. He didn’t think she’d ever called him by his last name besides the first day they met.

Even though that attitude was a regular occurrence, it was never first thing when she got here.

She slapped the phone back into the receiver and stared up at the ceiling, leaning back in her chair.

God, she hated it when this happened. And she cursed herself for not staying on top of herself.

After moving here from Chicago—five months ago now—she’d definitely let her health and wellbeing fall to the back burner.

Now, it was beginning to take a toll.

She thought she’d be okay moving to a new city. But no. She’d been wrong.

Again.

__

Twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock at Nina’s office door.

She froze.

Held her breath. Slowed it. Willed her pulse to calm as she silently begged whoever it was to just go away.

“I know you’re in there, Dr. Wojicki.”

Damn.

She recognized the voice immediately—familiar and frustratingly warm. Dr. Michael Robby.

With a loud, dramatic sigh, she pushed herself up from her chair and made her way to the door, dragging her feet more than she’d admit.

When she opened it, Michael stood there, eyes scanning her the way only someone trained in observation—and maybe something a little more personal—could.

She looked like hell. Pale, drawn, and tense. Purple bags hollowed out her under-eyes, and her pupils were blown, uneasy. She stood there in front of him, arms crossed too tightly and confidence nowhere in sight.

Very unlike her.

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately.

She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that my line?”

He chuckled, and somehow it echoed in her chest—warm, unexpected. Her spine tingled. Her cheeks flushed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard you say that before. Not to me, and definitely not in the Pitt,” he teased, leaning against the frame like he had all day.

Nina exhaled and rubbed the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut. Michael’s gaze flicked downward, catching the faint bruises along her hands—half hidden, half colored by her naturally cool-toned skin.

“Is everything okay, Dr. Nina?” he asked again, this time softer.

Her eyes opened slowly, sharp and guarded. “Peachy,” she muttered before closing the door in his face.

She didn’t slam it. But she made sure he heard the click of the lock.

Michael stood there for a beat, replaying what he saw, what he sensed, and—more than anything—what he believed.

Then he walked away.

Inside, Nina sagged against the front of her desk like someone had pulled the plug. A sob broke through before she could stop it, followed by another, and another, until silent tears carved rivers down her face.

Her body was exhausted. Her mind—shattered. And emotionally? She was drowning. Dried out and waterlogged all at once.

Sleep was a fantasy. Functioning was becoming one too. And if something didn’t give soon, she would break.

No. She was breaking.

She laid a trembling hand flat against her chest, trying to still the panicked beat beneath. It felt like her heart was either going to burst or give out entirely—and she wasn’t sure which terrified her more.

She was running on fumes. And even those were poisoned with depression, anxiety, unresolved trauma—emotions she had battled her whole life, but now, without medication or support, they were winning.

She’d thought the move would bring her peace. A new city. A new chapter. A reset.

But it hadn’t.

It amplified everything.

And somewhere along the way, she’d started to feel abandoned, even though no one had technically left her. She had chosen this. Chosen alone.

But it still stung like rejection.

She felt unloved. Unlovable. Like no one would care if she just… disappeared.

Head tilted back, eyes locked on the dimmed ceiling light, she whispered into the silence—not really expecting an answer:

Why me?

What did I do to deserve this?

How could someone so empathetic, so hardworking, someone who tried so damn hard to care for everyone else… be left to carry this much?

Her only answer was the weight in her chest.

And the silence. Always, the silence.

__

6:42 AM; the next morning.

She had exactly 18 minutes left before she could leave this hellhole—also known as the Pitt. She’d been stuck down here with Dr. Abbott for the better part of her shift, dealing with one psychological patient after another as they rolled in throughout the night. Dr. Nina was now checking in on her last patient of the shift, and immediately, she sensed something was off. Call it spidey senses, call it intuition—whatever it was, the energy of the room shifted, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

"Good morning, Mr. Callahan—what brings you in today?" she asked as she approached the computer next to his bed. He didn’t respond, only stared at her. She offered a soft smile. "It’s early, I know. That’s alright."

She was about to speak again when his file loaded, but before she could, he snapped.

"You! You’re the one who fucking poisoned me!" His voice screamed out, and Nina froze.

Me?

She’d never met this man in her life.

"I understand that you’re agitated, and the meds should be working soon, but I don’t think we’ve ever met before. Have you been here—"

He cut her off, suddenly lunging off the bed, his movements frantic. In an instant, he knocked her back into the wall, the sharp edge of a scalpel gleaming in his hand. His IV tore from his arm, blood spilling out and splattering all over her. Nina’s gaze locked onto the scalpel, and her body tensed. Fear crawled down her spine as his face came dangerously close to hers. She turned her head, trying to escape his proximity, but he screamed in her ear.

"You’re going to regret ever giving me meds, Matilda! I’m gonna fucking kill you!" His words were full of rage, and before she could react, the scalpel pressed to her throat.

He didn’t get far before he was suddenly yanked backward. Dr. Abbott, appearing from nowhere, put himself between Nina and the patient. He glared at the man, fury flashing in his eyes. "Don't you move another step," Abbott warned, his voice low but deadly. "I will gladly lose my license today if that means you don't touch her."

Nina coughed, the blood from her neck trickling down her skin. Her eyes dilated, her body still locked in fight-or-flight mode. But underneath it all, she felt like a little girl again, alone and helpless—berated by her parents with no one to protect her.

As soon as Dr. Abbott saw that the patient was restrained by other nurses, he turned back toward Nina. His concern grew when he realized she was nowhere to be found. He looked down.

She was curled into a ball on the floor, her body rocking back and forth, her head hitting the wall behind her with each movement. Uncontrollable tears streamed down her grey-blue eyes, her heart sinking as if it had fallen straight through her chest. She was in a daze, unsure if what had just happened was real or just a hallucination. Was she so dissociated that her mind had fabricated the whole thing?

Dr. Abbott kneeled in front of her, his hand gently resting on her shoulder. "Nina," he said softly, his voice full of concern.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, and she flinched, pulling away. "Don’t touch me," she hissed, her voice shaky.

"Nina, please, let me help—"

She shook her head violently, standing up in a rush. Her eyes were wide with terror as she scanned the room, desperate to escape the suffocating walls closing in around her.

Before Dr. Abbott could say another word, she bolted. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway as she ran past the nurse's station, where the Pitt crew was just arriving for their shift. They watched her, confused, as she sprinted toward the stairwell. Dr. Michael had just arrived for the day and caught a fleeting glimpse of her ash-brown hair disappearing into the stairwell in mere seconds.

Nina didn’t stop to think. She just ran. She ran up six flights of stairs, her breath growing shallow, her vision clouded by the rush of blood and panic. All that could be heard were the heavy, ragged sobs and shallow breaths as she pushed herself onward.

When she reached the sixth floor, she staggered out of the stairwell. She was met with curious eyes, but they quickly dropped to the blood soaking through her white coat—her neck still bleeding from where the scalpel had grazed her skin. Fuck. She would need a new one. She groaned inwardly.

"Dr. Nina—" Kiara began, but before she could say anything else, Nina bolted past her, heading straight for her office.

She slammed the door behind her, too frantic to lock it. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for somewhere to hide. Her gaze fell on the wooden desk in front of her. She yanked out the chair and collapsed beneath it, curling up into a ball, pressing herself against the solid wood.

Her sobs grew louder as she rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself, but finding no relief. She felt completely undone, trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

No one would help her. No one would ask if she's ok.

Yet. She didn't want anyone to. She didn't want to seem like a problem. A child.

__

It was a mere few minutes later, Robby going into saving mode, when she heard a soft knock on the door, followed by the gentle click of it opening. Footsteps padded softly into the room, and she immediately froze, her body tensing with unease.

Who was it?

"Dr. Nina?" came the familiar voice of Dr. Michael.

A sob escaped her before she could stop it, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. His eyes darted to the desk—he knew. He knew she was under there. Quietly, he shut the door behind him, walked around the desk, and pulled out the chair.

He looked down at the fragile woman who suddenly felt like a scared child. She couldn’t meet his gaze, too afraid he’d be angry with her—for being a burden, a problem, a mess. She curled deeper into herself, although there was no more space left to retreat.

He knelt down, gently setting the supplies Dana had brought him: gauze, saline solution, stitches, bandages.

"Did that really just happen?" she whispered, the question stopping Robby in his tracks.

"Did they really just attack me?" she asked again, her voice barely audible. She wasn’t even sure her mind was telling the truth—it had lied to her before.

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She finally lifted her head, and what he saw confirmed his worst suspicion.

“Did that patient really attack me? Did he really hurt me?” Her voice cracked. She didn’t feel it—her neck, her shoulder, her head. There was no pain.

She was simply numb.

“I think you may be concussed,” Robby said, studying her face. Her pupils were dilated. Her skin was pale—though, with her, that was always the case. Then he saw the cut on her neck, and the blood staining her white coat and black work clothes.

“May I check you? I want to rule out a concussion, Nina.”

Something about the way he said her name—soft, careful—made her heart ache. She nodded, inching just out from under the desk. He checked her eyes with a small light, guiding her vision with his finger. No concussion. Good.

He motioned toward her neck. She sighed and tilted her head.

“It’s beginning to clot. That’s good,” he said, cleaning the area with gauze and saline. Next, he examined the bruises already forming around her neck. She nodded, allowing him to lift her shirt slightly to peek at her shoulders.

Gods, she bruised so easily.

“Already bruised?” she teased weakly.

He glanced at her, then back at the dark marks. A small chuckle slipped out as he reached for a bandage.

“Something tells me you’re not surprised?”

She shook her head. “Unfortunately, with this ghostly complexion? I bruise if the wind breathes on me too hard.”

After securing the bandage, his gaze fell to her hands, marked with smaller bruises.

“May I ask why your hands are bruised, then?” he asked gently.

She immediately tucked them behind her.

“No, no. We’re not doing that,” he said softly, reaching for them again. She didn’t resist as he brought them forward.

She wouldn’t lie—she felt lightheaded. And she couldn’t deny that her breathing faltered slightly when his hands wrapped around hers.

Another confirmation, he thought.

“Is there anyone at home, Nina, who—”

She shook her head quickly. “No. No, It’s just me.”

He nodded, carefully checking her fingers. No breaks. No sprains. Just bruises.

“May I ask why you show up with more bruises every time I see you?” he asked again, voice soft but sincere.

She met his eyes, didn’t pull away. Her hands were still in his, even though he didn’t need to hold them anymore.

She cleared her throat. “My hands… are kind of my go-to when I get really stressed. Or angry.”

She looked down at them. “They’re my personal fidget spinner. I flex them, pull at them, hit them against things just to... feel something. To make my mind shut up for once. I don't know.”

She stopped, realizing what she had just confessed.

His chest tightened.

“Are you taking anything, Nina? Or speaking to someone?”

She shook her head. “Well—not anymore. I used to. Back at the hospital before I moved, I had weekly sessions, meds... but since the move, it’s all taken a backseat and—”

“We have to change that, Dr. Nina,” he said, gently rubbing his thumb across hers. The smallest gesture, yet it made her feel... safe.

“I—I don’t know, Dr. Mic—”

“Robby,” he corrected gently. “Call me Robby.”

She looked up, her grey-blue eyes locking onto his warm brown ones. There were laugh lines around his eyes, but in this moment, they just made him look kind. Steady.

“Robby,” she said, almost tasting the unfamiliar softness of it. “I just... I don’t want to be a burden.”

“An inconvenience?” he asked knowingly. “No. Nina, we as doctors can only do our best when we’re taking care of everything behind the scenes. Our mental and emotional health? Non-negotiable. We can't ignore it. Not in this field.”

She nodded.

“Let’s talk to Kiara. I’m sure she can help,” he offered.

Before she could respond, a knock broke the moment. Both turned their heads toward the door.

Robby quickly pulled back, standing up and tidying the used supplies. Dr. Abbott walked in as Nina stood, straightening her clothes—and that’s when she saw it.

The blood.

Her stomach turned.

Without hesitation, Robby held the trash can out in front of her. A reflex. She threw up. Abbott glanced between the two of them—he knew he’d just walked in on something private. You could feel it in the air.

When she finally stopped, Robby handed her gauze to wipe her mouth.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

Abbott cleared his throat. Nina turned to him, nervously.

“Hi.”

“I brought you some clean scrubs so you don’t have to drive home in those,” he said kindly. “Just wanted to check on you, kid.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Abbott.”

Robby took that as his cue to leave. As he reached the door, she called after him.

“Thank you, Dr. Robby,” she said warmly.

He met her eyes and smiled before stepping out.

When she turned back around, Abbott was already settled in her chair.

“SO. How can I help you, Mr. Abbott?” she teased, and he chuckled as she sat down.

__

The next morning, she was back.

Sharing a shift with Robby and the rest of the Pitt crew. Anxiety had followed her all night and clung to her as she walked in. Would he pretend nothing happened? Would everything go back to normal? She stepped into her office and saw a letter on her desk—no, two. And next to them, a Dunkin Donuts vanilla latte. She opened the first letter, from Kiara. It promised privacy. Off-the-books sessions. No insurance. The line made her laugh softly.

Then, her eyes landed on the other envelope—pure chicken scratch. Robby. The letter was full of warmth, empathy, and gentle wit. He offered himself as a mentor, a sounding board, or even a brick wall for her sarcasm, should she need one. But most of all, the letter offered friendship. A knock sounded. Robby’s head popped in. “Hi,” she said, slightly flustered. She sat back in her chair as he entered, shutting the door behind him without looking away. She looked rested. For once.

“What do I owe this pleasure?” she teased, sipping the latte. He smiled at the floor, then sat in the chair across from her. “Morning, Nina. How was the rest of your day yesterday?” She smirked. “You know I abhor small talk, Dr. Robby,” she teased. “But wouldn’t you like to know?” He chuckled lightly.

“Abbott got me some medical-grade melatonin before I left yesterday. Told me to take three and call it a night once I got home. My cat was very concerned when she woke me up screaming, because I forgot to give her her lunch,” she mused, sipping her coffee.

“A cat?” His eyebrow flicked up, curiosity growing.

“Yes, a kitty. You’d know that if you stopped trying to small talk me every day,” she hummed. “But yeah, I have a six-year-old tabby named Kilo, which—yes—you can already guess why he’s named that. I just say it’s Australian when people ask.”

Robby smiled. “Well, good to know there’s more to you than that wall you keep up,” he said warmly.

She tilted her cup toward him. “Glad to hear some not-so-rude humor from you today, Dr. Nina,” he added boldly.

Her mouth popped open in surprise. “You asshole,” she muttered—but she knew exactly what he meant. She had been a bitch the past few months, after missing her medication refill.

“Dr. Kiara already called UChicago, got your meds refilled—they’re sitting in your desk drawer,” he explained.

She sighed. “I’m gonna kill you all. Starting with Franky downstairs,” she chuckled.

“Oh, wait now, I need him in the clinic today. Maybe after our shift ends,” he replied, sipping his coffee.

“I guess I can hold off,” she playfully sighed.

The two of them sat in a comfortable quiet for a moment, studying one another.

“I don’t want you—or Kiara, or Abbott—to think I’m some kind of weak child who can’t handle this job,” she said gently.

Robby shifted in his seat. She continued, voice steady but low.

“I don’t want you to think I’m incapable of doing good work. My fuel and passion are what keep me going. The reasons behind what I do—they’re at the forefront of my work, every single day.”

He nodded slowly. “We’ve all got our reasons in this profession.”

“Well…” She hesitated. “My childhood wasn’t exactly the greatest. I think I spent more time alone in my room than anywhere else, scared of which parent was going to scream at me next. The only time I felt seen by my family was when I was on my deathbed—figuratively speaking.”

She stared out the window, her features softer than usual. Vulnerable.

“The reason I am who I am—and why I do this work—is because I became the person I longed for as a child. The one I begged for. Screamed for. Until I lost my voice,” she said quietly. “Even then, no one came. No one helped. No one saved me.”

Her gaze dropped to her hands.

“So when I get the chance to save someone else—or just be there for them—it heals me. Little by little. Heals me without me needing to beg for assistance or worry if someone’s going to care. So I don’t have to ask for help or make someone worry about me.”

Robby watched the guilt start creeping back into her eyes. She was bracing herself for rejection.

But he leaned forward instead, his voice warm.

“Well… thank you, Nina. For opening up to me. I want you to never feel like you’re a burden—because you’re not. Your reasons, your passion for this work—it’s admirable. You haven’t let your trauma, your insecurities, or even your setbacks hold you back. I’m incredibly glad to have you here.”

He held her gaze. Those words and his gaze, held something a bit more.

“And I want you to know—everyone else, even when you’re a complete bitch—”

She giggled, softly. A smile crept up on his face.

“—to everyone. Especially me. We’re grateful you’re here. Today and every day. You’re a damn good doctor, Nina. And you’re irreplaceable.”

She felt something warm and unfamiliar creep up her chest—but all she could manage was a nod.

“Thank you, Robby. I appreciate that,” she murmured.

He nodded and stood. “Now meet us downstairs when you’re sure you won’t tear Franky’s head off.”

She giggled again, just a little.

“Tell Franky to put me in the system,” she quipped.

He nodded. “Will do.”

She smiled a little wider, a little brighter than she had in weeks.

Robby left with a heart full—and a smile that didn’t leave his face the rest of the day.

Nina looked back down at the letter Robby had written, her eyes lingering on the number scribbled at the bottom.

But they flitted back to the line just above it—the one that struck her the most:

You don’t have to carry the weight of others or feel like you’re a burden. First, it’s not your weight to carry. And second, you will never be a burden—to the hospital, to the crew, and especially not to me.

eeeeeek! hope you all enjoyed!!!

please like and reblog, if you enjoyed!

MITCHELL | Jake Seresin

Masterlist

Intro prologue chapter two

Chapter one; Our eyes meet

Maverick sat down on the barstool with his daughter following him, Her following him around brought him back to the old times when she didn't want to be separated from him when she was a little girl.

"How was the mach nine?" She asked as they enters the Hard Deck.

"Oh I blow it." He said beaming.

"Im sorry what?" Y/n ask him not believing her ears, questioning herself did she get it right. He nods with his eyes on his phone talking to Iceman.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me." A voice said. The Mitchell's lift their head to see Penny Benjamin.

"Pete." Penny said with a smile.

"Penny?" Maverick says leaning in to the bar, not believing his eyes. He went ballistic with Penny Benjamin when he was younger. After her mother passed away he starts to learn to move on, he met Penny again got into trouble got deployed somewhere else by the Admiral.

"Heya Pen."

"What are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same thing." Y/n watch the adults interact with a glint of curiosity, they were being suspicious. Like they are still attracted to each other. The two practically stared into each other's souls.

"Please for the sake of my sanity stop eye fucking each other." Her words made them broke their stare, a innocent smile forming to her face. "Penny, can I have a Soda?"

Penny nods then asked what's her dad doing here, he starts to tell her how this is his last post. Penny did not believe him.

"Come on Pete, you've been saying that as long as I known you. You said that after you take me to a joy ride in a F-18 and the next thing I know you're off to Bosnia. Then Iraq, both times. You've got yourself in trouble and Iceman makes a call." Penny said giving Maverick a beer and her Soda. "And you're back into the air."

"Penny..." Maverick starts.

"Too late." Penny interrupt, "You're about to ask me what time I get off."

Maverick shakes his head with a smile, "Don't give me that look" she said making Y/n snorts, she's aware that her dad's smile is cocky and pretty sure he doesn't have any look other than that.

"I'm not giving you any look, I swear."

"You know how it always ends for us," Penny eyed him.

Y/n eyes watched him leans to the counter with a smile, "You look good." He said to Penny, Penny takes a step back and rings the bell causing people to cheer at the sound.

"Much appreciated pal." A Navy said patting her dad's shoulder.

"What am I missing here?" Maverick asked Penny and Y/n.

Penny step aside to reveal the plate behind her, guess he didn't see it because he was too busy lost in Penny's eyes. 'Disrespect a lady, the Navy, or put your cell phone on my bar you buy a round.' Maverick turned to face his daughter, "You knew about this?"

"The plate is right infront of you, you would have known it if you weren't too focused on Penny."

He rolled his eyes, he looks around there was a lot of people "For everyone?"

"I'm afraid rules are rules, sir." Y/n said in a military tone.

"You're lucky it's early." Penny continues.

Y/n takes her glass into her hand with her eyes scanning the room, her eyes meet another pair of eyes.

Jake Seresin suddenly feels the room turned quiet when his eyes laid on the h/c. As if everything in this room faded away, everything felt so slow. Y/n send him a small smile and look away embarrassed that she got caught looking at someone.

He snapped out of it when he saw a familiar face causing him to smirk, "Look what do we have here, Phoenix." He walks closer to Phoenix, "And here I thought we were special, Coyote." He added.

"Fellas this here is bagman." Phoenix introduced to the guys behind her.

"Hangman." He corrected with a forced smile.

"Whatever, you are looking at the naval aviator that have duty to kill."

"Stop." Jake joked.

"Mind you the guy was in museum piece from a Korean war," Phoenix finished.

"Cold War." Coyote said.

"Different war same century." A guy from behind Phoenix stated.

"Who are your friends?" Coyote asked.

"Payback." Reuben Fitch said.

"Fanboy." Mickey Garcia says with a nod.

Phoenix nod her head beside her, "Who's he?" A guy with a glasses patting away the crumbs from his uniform.

"When did you get in?"

"Oh I've been here the whole time." He replied with a sweet smile.

"The man a stealth pilot." Coyote joked.

"Weapons system actually." He answered not getting the joke.

"With no sense of humor." Jake nods. He keeps stealing glanced to the barstool, watching her having a conversation with an older guy beside her. He felt his heart pumped faster when he hears her laugh at the man words beside her.

"You need a drink? I'll get it." Jake push the cue to Phoenix.

Phoenix was little shocked that was new of him. She turn back to the guy asking questions.

"What do they call you?"

"Bob." He answered.

"No, your call sign." Payback asked.

"Uh Bob."

"Bob Floyd? You're my new back seater?" Phoenix asked him, "From lemoore?" She asked.

"Looks like it, yeah." Bob replied.

Fanboy perked up remembering that he was assigned as a back seater to someone who have Ciel as their call sign, "Do any of you know Ciel? I was assigned as their back seater."

Phoenix jaw dropped "Ciel? Lucky you, Ciel's back seater quit being a naval aviator, said he doesn't want his wife to be a widow any time sooner." She quickly looks around for her friend.

Her eyes twinkles when she found Ciel or her civilians name Y/n Mitchell, sitting on the barstool with a older guy that she did not know that happens to her old man. Phoenix was about to call her but shut her mouth when Y/n put her index finger on her lips which Phoenix nods at.

"Penny my dear," He near the barstool making sure to make yet another eye contact with the h/c woman. "All four more on the old timer."

Y/n noticed the guy is slowly approaching her, she look at her glass of Soda pretending to not know he's not going to talk to her.

"I'm Hangman." He reached his hand out to her.

She decided to play the guy's ego, she shook his hand "Well that's unfortunate." Y/n said pretending to not know its a call sign making Maverick smirk at her words.

"No, it's my call sign." He said.

"Call sign? Oh you're a pilot" Y/n send him a awed face, she fake gasp not that he knows. Pretending to not like her dad did not briefed her about pilots introducing themselves with their call sign but for the sake of having fun.

"That's right, a naval aviator." He respond proudly. She cleared her throat, "I'm Y/n Mitchell." She said with a smile.

"Jake seresin." He plastered a smirk on his face making her bashfully look away from his gaze.

"Here you go." Penny interrupt giving the Ken doll look alike his beers.

"It was nice talking to you, Hangman" Y/n flash him a smile.

"Thank you, much appreciated pops" Jake said to nodding to Maverick and send Y/n a flirtatious wink causing her to giggle.

Penny turns to Maverick with a knowing smile.

"Bradshaw! is that you?" Phoenix voice called out.

Y/n turned her head to the entrance, there he is. Almighty Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw. Her childhood bestfriend. She looks at her dad with a toothy grin but turned into sad smile when she saw him turn his head avoiding to be seen by his godson, the Mitchell man pulled out the young Bradshaw papers, set Bradley's career back four years.

She chuckled when she saw Phoenix hit him in the gut with the cue. She watched Jake talk with Bradley, to be honest its more like joking around but in a weird way.

Phoenix leans to his shoulder "I heard Ciel's coming in this mission."

"Ciel? Already?" More aviators starts to enter the hard deck with the evening rush, Fanboy was looking at them.

"The hell kind a mission is this?"

"That's not what we're supposed to be asking," Phoenix continued "Everyone here is the best there is, who the hell are they going to teach us?"

"Any of them is Ciel?" Fanboy ask Phoenix.

"Nope," Phoenix dragged the p. "Ciel just finished her last mission, from what I heard she shot down 5 of the enemy fighter jets."

Everyone jaw hanged, 5 of enemy fighter jets? That's higher than Jake "Hangman" Seresin.

Back to the main character, Y/n tapped her father on the shoulder whispering she's going to the restroom. As she walk she felt someone eyes behind her head.

Entering the restroom she turn the water on to wash her hands as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The door swung open and in walk the guy she talked before on the bar.

"This the ladies restroom, the gentleman is across from this one." Y/n told him looking at him from the mirror.

"Oh I'm not looking for the restroom," He said.

Y/n 'oh'ed at his words, She turned around leaning her back at the counter with her arms crossed, "So what did you wanna do, just drop right down on the tile and go for it?" She asked him tapping the ground with her shoe as he approached.

Jake put his hands on the counter pressing them hard, checking if it can hold someone on it, "No, I had the counter in mind." He said looking at her.

Y/n reach her arm for the tissue, "Great, that would be very, very comfortable yeah."

"It could be unless you prefer standing instead." He says with a smirk leaning on his hand on the counter making her shaking her head at him while she wipes her hands.

"Actually, I came in here to save you from making a big mistake with that older guy." Jake said kissing his teeth.

"Really? So I could go on to a bigger one with a young guy like yourself?" She throw the tissue away looking back at Jake whom she think is fun to messed with.

"Maybe?" He tilt his head while he raises his eyebrow.

She pushed herself from the counter "I've gotta be at work very early in the morning." She send him a tight lipped smile. He shrugs with a smug look, he catch her arm.

"Wait," he pulled her hand to his chest, she raise one eyebrow "I have a friend and he's waiting outside. Wanna fool him?" He asked.

"Aw, what's in it for me?" She tilt her head with her chin high.

"You'll have fun with a guy like me," he says shaking her hand.

"Still don't know what's in it for me."

"I'll buy you a drink next time we see each other," He said with a wink.

"What makes you think we'll see each other next time?" She asked.

"Hey you'll never know, you might miss me." He grinned, leaning down to her face and brush some stray hair out of her face.

"Fine," She rolled her eyes.

They both walked out from the restroom, her eyes scanning through the crowd. "So which one is your friend that we're gonna fool?"

"That one, see that guy staring at his beer?" Jake whispers into her ear and pointed at guy.

"He looks like he's staring at his lover." Y/n commented making him grin at her words.

She was about to walk towards the guy but Jake grabbed her wrist, he turns her head towards him.

"Just need to do this," he wipe her lower lip, wiping her lipstick. Her heart feels like it's going to burst. "Now when you walk to him, apply your lipstick again so he'll believe it."

"Wow, You're full of surprises." She said, stepping away and start to walk to Coyote with her lipstick in her hand.

"Your friend was magnificent" she said as she reapplying her lipstick, he looks up from his beer watching her figure walking away. Jake stood beside him with a smug smirk.

"Nah, that can't be."

She take her sit back next to her dad who stares at her with a slight scolding eyes, she raise her hands "What? I didn't do anything, beside it was fun messing with him."

"Let's go, I'll drive you home, where are you staying?" Maverick asked.

"At Penny's. She offered a place for me to stay as soon she knows I'm in town."

Penny walks to the Mitchell with a card in her hand, she slide the card to Maverick "It's been declined." He take out his wallet for the cash.

"That wouldn't cover it." Penny hands him the check, he cannot believe the bill she had gave him.

"I'll come back tomorrow bringing the cash" Maverick responded. Penny walks to the bell holding the rope, "I'm afraid rules are rules Pete." She rings the bell once again, the crowd cheers and start chanting "Hoverboard."

"Really?" Maverick said to Penny. Who smiles innocently at him.

"You've should use my money," She sighed as Jake and two other guy walks behind her dad, Jake winked at Y/n. He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder and nods at Coyote before lifting him from the ground.

"It's great to see you Pete!" Penny yelled.

"I'll see you later, Do you want me to cook dinner?" Y/n said gathering her stuff.

"Great, I'll see you at home. Tell Amelia that I'll be home soon." Penny beamed, to Penny, Y/n feels like another daughter of her. She gives out a good advices, she showed up at her highschool graduation.

"See ya later." She waved bye at Penng on her way she heard someone playing the piano, causing her stop in mid tracks. He was playing their favourite song when they were little.

She look towards the piano to see her brother figure playing, Bradley who felt he was being watched glanced to his shoulder to his sister figure waving at him. She make a phone like on her hand mouthing call me before leaving the Hard Deck.

Y/n walks out to find her dad staring inside the Hard deck listening to the crowd singing along with Bradley who's playing Great Balls of Fire. He was quiet and looked pale.

"Dad, are you okay?" She asked him.

"No it's okay sweetie, I'm fine. Come on let's go home." Maverick said pulling her into a side hug.

🗒 ❛ note༉‧₊˚✧

I've spend a day for this chapter, I want to write at least one chapter for this book.

Word count: 2.5K

I found love, marriage and cock. I’m 13

So what did you get? It’s still not too late to find out :0 Also, please check out our IG and follow us: https://www.instagram.com/psych2go_tips You won’t regret. 

I’ll do it

For everyone’s information:

The plan for the 17th, when the adult content ban comes in, is to protest.

To do that, we are making as much noise either side of the 17th as possible, and using the site as normal.

On the 17th, dead silence.

People are saying log off but what they really mean is don’t open the site or the app.

But, on the 17th make as much noise as possible on every other platform. Tweet about it and post on facebook and instagram and everywhere else.

What this does is causes a massive dip in ad revenue for one single day. That does not make staff think ‘oh everyone’s gone let’s shut down.’ What it actually makes them think is ‘oh shit people aren’t happy and if people don’t keep using our site we’re out of money and out of jobs.’

A boycott reminds a company that the users (consumers) have the power to make their site (business) worthless with one single coordinated decision.

If you want to join in, here’s what to do:

Do:

Close all open instances of the app and site on all your devices before the 17th

Make posts before and after the 17th on tumblr and other platforms, talking about why this ban is bad

Make posts on other sites during the 17th. Flood the official tumblr staff twitter and facebook with your anger and your opinion

Come back on the 18th and check in

Don’t:

Delete the app from your phone (this doesn’t affect their revenue and since it’s off the store at the moment it’ll be hard to get back)

Delete your account. I mean you can if you want to, but if you keep your account and don’t use it you’re saying to staff that there’s still time to save it. If you delete it’s hard work to come back.

Open the app or website (including specific blogs)

Make any posts (turn down/off your queue and make sure nothing is scheduled)

Go quiet elsewhere. Make it clear that this is just about tumblr, not a mass move away from all social media.

Remember: the execs don’t care about anything but money. Shutting down the site means there’s $0 further income from it. That’s their last possible course of action. If we make it clear we’re not happy, they’ll have to do something or we can do more and more until it becomes too expensive.

Protests take commitment. They’re a defiant action against a business that is doing something wrong. They will try to scare you into not participating, because they’re scared. We hold all the power here, sometimes the execs just need to be reminded of that.

Fic recs masterlist

* means smut :)

none of these belong to me, full credit goes to the writer

If you know any fics that are not on here please let me know :)

Let me know if any links are broken :)

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@fairysimp

The prettiest flower

If you’re a fairy, so am i

Corpse classic

You’re on!

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@ewritesthangs

Blurb

Q and a time

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@marvelandsuchstuff

Sleepness nights and Golden sunlight

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@corpsehusband-simp

Opposites attract

Lazy day

Oops

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@laysfics

Spell

Spell 2

Spell 3

Dinner

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@bastillewolf

Shinigami eyes 1

Shinigami eyes 2

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@deycespade

Your voice*

My little pet*

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@artist-bby

Deadass 1

Prepare for trouble... Make it double 2

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@fandomlit

Voice impressions

Destracted

Mad

Fangirling

Daddy (deleted)

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@skyeet-the-writer

Id never snitch on daddy 1

My mind is restless with the toughts of you 2

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@ghostgamer

Calm nights

Comforting you

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@iamsuchasimp

Simp

Instagram post

Simply simping

Making amends

Miss you

Meant to be?

Alibi

Headcanons 1

Headcanons 2

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@introverted-mushroom-san

Just a human (series)

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@harleysarchive

Among you and me

Among you and me 2

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@storiesforallfandoms

Propostion

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@star-gaz3rs

Unspoken words and read messages

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@locallolli

Corpse head canon

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@corpsedaydream

Neon banter

Sore loser

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@randomafwritings

It’s 2 am dude...

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@corpseglider

Soft!boy hours

Mute Your mic

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@moonjelly-princesa

Next time

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@bakubabes-hatake

Muted infatuation

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