dark_enedties
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Zoro leans in, his earrings swaying gently, “You still hate me?”
Sanji swallows, going to take a hasty pull off his cigarette before realizing it had burned down to a stub. He flicks it into the ashtray by his elbow and pushes his hair out of his eyes. Finally, he laughs, a humorless exhausted sound, says, “You’re going to hurt.”- Language:
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Bookmarked by dark_enedties
06 Jan 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
- What would it feel like to let love and devotion devour your soul until you can’t remember the searing pain of abandonment?
- “I’m saving us.”
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"Tell me something that brings you comfort."
"Something that brings me comfort?" Robby shot back, his tone mocking the frivolity of it, because he never was one to just follow directions.
"Yes," Gene said, eternally unfazed. "It can be the smallest thing, whatever comes to mind."
What came to mind was: Pens games, the trails at Frick Park, the rare book collection in the Oliver Room at Carnegie Main, a cortado at Sage Caffe. But what he said was: "Jack."
...wait. Shit.
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Jack looked from the intern picture to Robby again, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes. "Jesus, this is like a recipe." He gestured between the picture and Robby, young and old. "It's like twink plus seasoning equals daddy. Fuck," he said, a kind of helpless note to it. Then he walked out, like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on Robby's head.
What did that mean?
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Bookmarked by dark_enedties
21 Feb 2026
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"Congrats again on the award; you deserve it." And with that, she disappeared into the crowd.
Probably off to go plan how to hit on Jack. Jack, who this random doctor wanted to have sex with. Here. At the conference.
Intellectually, Robby knew that was what people did at these things. Drunken hookups at conferences were common, though often denied, if not regretted. Robby had never partaken because that was not his speed, but Jack—
Well, Jack had no such qualms. And at an ED medical conference, he was basically a rockstar. He could probably have anyone he wanted.
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Bookmarked by dark_enedties
21 Feb 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
- I just—you can have it, but I don't think you're gonna want it
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Jack had just stepped back onto the main floor when he clocked movement at the ambulance entrance, two guys hurrying in, the smaller one helping a guy with a sweatshirt covered in blood. But something was wrong, some unnamable instinct rising within Jack at the way they moved. It was too fluid, too controlled. Jack knew what the walking wounded looked like, had seen it for years, from war zones to bar fights. This wasn't the injured seeking help; this was men hunting.
Time slowed, Jack's heart rate spiking, the adrenaline dump casting everything in sharp relief—the full ED floor, patients plus shift change meaning twice the usual personnel were here.
Robby was here.
That thought got him moving, Jack approaching laterally. He got there right as the guns came out.