feargall
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No one thinks Robby talking to the press is a good idea, but if its the only thing that will stop the ER from being sold, then he'll just have to do it. How bad could it be?
Bookmarked by feargall
22 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
He tears up for the first time recounting this, which surprises me. He notices, and grimaces. “Grief leaving the body. I have a lot of grief, and my own levees are fucked these days.”
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“Say you got married,” Robby found himself asking. “Would you wear your dress blues? Or civilian clothes?”
It had only been an idle thought, no different than any number of easy, directionless musings of the sort that often came over the two of them on mornings like this one, when no one had a shift to go to for at least thirty-six hours. Robby didn’t mean anything by it. But he regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, even before he saw the incredulous grin slide over Jack’s face.
“Say I got married?”
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Bookmarked by feargall
21 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Yes, of course Jack loved him; when all was said and done Robby knew it perfectly well; Robby could even imagine that Jack might be in love with him, might adore him, in whatever way that worked for Jack, to whatever extent such a thing was possible for the men they were. But Robby knew most of all that this was to say in an unexamined way, a tenuous and untenable way, a way that couldn’t, and wouldn’t ever, bear up under the weight of the two of them in the same place, at the same time, for more than a handful of days a month. He knew better than to subject circumlocutions like in the way they knew how and as best they could manage and to whatever extent possible to any scrutiny. The only thing to do was let these fictions be.
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After a disastrous Fourth of July shift, Robby does not go on the sabbatical he never planned, but the roof of a building.
Bookmarked by feargall
17 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Jack rocks back on his feet, running his hand over his mouth before returning it to his pocket. The tension in his arm pulls the jacket taut, the flexor ulnaris stark. "Yeah, math. The height of the building you'd need, far enough away an ambo doesn't try to take you to the Pitt but close enough you can see it, the wind tunnel that might increase air friction if the buildings are too close together."
Robby's distracted from his distraction, and he's unsteady even sitting down. "Really?"
"No, you luddite. We've been sharing each other's location since cell phones became a thing. I followed your little fucking dot from the hospital."
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gerald: an oral history by moonamona
Fandoms: Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
04 Mar 2026
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Summary
"Gerald is not a pet. He is a symbiotic colony of lactobacillus bacteria and wild yeast. I don't understand why everyone keeps anthropomorphizing him." — Shane Hollander, two-time Hart Trophy winner, Olympic gold medalist, man who reads his sourdough starter's fan mail out loud
How a mason jar of wild yeast became the most famous sourdough starter in professional sports. An investigation.
The following interviews were conducted over a period of three months for The Athletic. All participants were made aware that their comments would be published. One participant requested anonymity. One participant is a jar.
Series
- Part 2 of Babushka
Bookmarked by feargall
07 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
HAYDEN PIKE: Gerald has outlasted three of Shane's coaches, two of his agents, and one of his relationships. Gerald is permanent. The rest of us are just visiting.
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Summary
"If you really want to know, the hot new thing is an app called findr. It's for bougie professionals who like to pretend they're elevated while slobbering all over each other, so entirely your speed."
At that, Robby lost his war with self-control and did flip her off.
Ellis actually laughed. "The vision," she repeated, dark eyes dancing. "findr," she said again, like he might have forgotten. "Go fuck away the raincloud, Robby. For everybody's sake, but mostly mine," she drawled as she sauntered away.
Bookmarked by feargall
06 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
"I don't have a best friend," Robby said, automatic.
Jack blinked. "I've never been so insulted in my life."
"Okay, drama queen," Robby drawled, raising a forestalling hand.
"My drill sergeant said I was so useless I wasn't even fit to skullfuck and that's still less insulting than what I just heard," Jack continued, like that was at all a normal thing to say.