scottyramps
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“I thought you had a repair guy coming.”
He huffed another laugh, rueful. “With my schedule? I don’t get out of here until nine on a good day. No one’s coming by that late to fix a washer.”
Dr. Santos piped up, “I know a guy.”
He startled; he hadn’t even seen her, but there she was, charting away next to Whitaker. A smirk played on her face, but she barely looked up from her typing.
He almost hated to ask. “You do?”
Without sparing him another glance, she reached up and tugged on Whitaker’s sleeve.
“Huckleberry’s got you.”
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Robby's home is in need of repair. Luckily, Dennis knows his way around a toolbox.
Bookmarked by scottyramps
21 Apr 2026
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“We can be good doctors and idiots at the same time. I feel like I kind of need to be stupid a little bit. Everyone needs to.”
Robby smiles. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His ears feel hot, all of a sudden. “You got anything else to drink?”
~
Or; Dennis Whitaker takes several risks. He'll pay for them later, probably.Series
- Part 1 of False Idols
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There’s a hand, fingers cold, on his elbow – someone trying to get his attention. Usually, usually, his staff would know that just calling his name is enough, that he’s fine-tuned to the sound of it like a dog waiting for a command. But as he looks down and then to the person the chilled digits belong to, he finds Whitaker staring up at him owlishly. A shudder goes through him, senses zeroing in on the point of contact.
“Can I help you?” It comes out bitchier than he intended, caught off-guard as he is. But he doesn’t take it back, not even when the kid bites at his lower lip as if he wants to apologize.
“I just wanted to ask if you liked the chicken parm.”
aka Robby doesn't know he's being wooed by home-cooked meals and big, honest eyes.
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Bookmarked by scottyramps
30 Mar 2026
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The first message comes from Jack at 2:53AM on a Saturday. It's a video, 47 seconds long, with an accompanying caption: missed a good time at the bar last night.
Or: A look into Jack and Robby's text messages.
Bookmarked by scottyramps
17 Mar 2026
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Maybe he wanted to prove a point. Prove Robby was not some kind of infallible paragon. Prove he deserved this, that he deserved to be whispered about.
Still, it wasn’t planned. Dennis couldn’t afford to be a jealous type- he knew, deep down, he couldn’t compete with them, the litany of girls and women that Robby politely declined on a daily basis, even the ones he eyed a touch too long. It was a strange dichotomy, in a way, believing himself undeserving of Robby, of all people, and considering himself the only one worthy of him.
Bookmarked by scottyramps
17 Mar 2026