folkcherry
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Dennis' crush on his attending is just that - a crush. Despite his roommate's constant teasing, he's not about to do anything anyone is going to regret. He's been fine for three months, thank you very much, and today isn't going to be any different.
Except Trinity's in trouble the same day there's rumours of staff cuts, Robby hasn't been himself in weeks, and Dennis seems to be in the middle of all of it.
So how much could change in 15 hours?
-
Tags
Summary
After the Fourth of July, Robby leaves.
Whitaker follows.
Somewhere between Pittsburgh and the Great Plains, Dennis convinces him to come home.
Or: A getting-together oneshot that turned into a series about Robby and Dennis figuring out what they want to be to each other. Featuring yearning, hurt (but also comfort), Jack Abbot serving as Robby’s unlicensed therapist, Trinity Santos suffering more than Jesus, quite a lot of smut, actually, and gratuitous references to the great state of Nebraska.
-
Tags
Summary
During a lonely night on the abandoned 8th floor, Whitaker is spiraling. He decides to make a phone call.
~
“Whitaker, it's 2 AM.”
Whitaker let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”
“Why are you calling me?”
He didn't know how to answer that question. There was no way to answer that question without embarrassing himself.
Sorry, Dr. Robby. I’m lonely. I miss my family. I'm thinking about all of the patients I’ve lost. I know you've lost hundreds more, and I know this is just part of the job, and I should just get used to it, but my fucking soul hurts. I feel like a failure. I miss my mom. I wish she loved me more than she loves God. Is that a fucked up thing to say?
Maybe I’m not cut out for this.
Series
- Part 1 of Pavlove
-
- Words:
- 59,817
- Works:
- 3
- Bookmarks:
- 152
-
Tags
Summary
Dennis recounted all of this on the rooftop every morning, almost like a prayer. How he’d gotten here. It wasn’t a sudden morning, waking up with the realization that God had abandoned him. It was slow, painful. Of feeling farther and farther from the light, of drifting away wordlessly from the only truth he’d ever known. There was no moment where it hit that he didn’t believe anymore. It just was.
Dennis had never been able to escape the ghost of Nebraska. But maybe with some confessions and newfound belonging, he finally could.
Or five times Dennis Whitaker held onto something, and the one time he let go.
Based on the song Sun Bleached Flies by Ethel Cain