ValenMiller
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Dennis Whitaker's path to becoming a doctor turned out to be more difficult and confusing than he had expected, and it was all because of senior emergency physician Michael Robinavich.
-
And I've Dreamed To Be Seen, Now I've Got It, Do I Want It? by Ashty
Fandoms: The Pitt (TV)
28 Mar 2026
Tags
Summary
Robby would make sure to not come back from his sabbatical, it felt inevitable. It was... was it? At least until something seeped through the wall he had built around himself, something new, something nice.
Was there a person worth coming back to? Robby wasn't so certain, but he would find out soon. -
Tags
Summary
“Jesus, Whitaker, I’m not going to hurt you.”
Dennis didn’t mean to say it outloud. It was just an impulsive thought that slipped right out, but before his brain could catch up to his mouth he blurted out:
“Could you?”
OR
Dennis thinks he needs to be punished in order to be saved and Robby is more than willing to save him. The two start a worryingly under negotiated relationship. Boundaries are crossed, kinks are explored and sexual awakenings are had.
-
Tags
Summary
“Whitaker, you need to sit down. You have a concussion.” The voice next to him tries to tell him, and it's almost familiar this time.
“Yeah I realized that, I am a fuckin' doctor. Student doctor. Whatever.” he replies, turning to squint at the man sitting next to him. “Look, can you just get Dr. Robby? He’ll tell you I'm fine, I gotta get back to work, I got… patients and shit.”
The man looks at someone behind him, some expression he can’t quite figure out. He starts to say something else, and—oh shit he’s gonna throw up fuck—he tries to lean away and not vomit all over anyone else. He doesn't quite make it.
“Shit,” yeah, he definitely ruined that guy’s shoes. Whoops. “Sorry.”
prosopagnosia
1. A form of visual agnosia characterized by difficulty with face recognition despite intact low-level visual processing. -
Tags
Summary
"Is this what you want?" Mel asked, eyes searching his face so urgently he could barely track them.
Frank sighed, stretching out his neck and closing his eyes. "It's what she wants—"
"You, Frank," Mel interrupted. "I don't care about Abby. What do you want?"
He wet his lips, rubbing them together as he watched her sit with a hand on the door, ready to leave the car at any given moment. Then, he nodded. "Yeah," he said simply. "I want this."
She shook her head, gathering her bag from by her feet and pushing the door open. "Then have it," she said, forcing herself out. "Just don't expect me to watch."
* * *
In which Mel and Frank orient Hollywood — and each other.