pixie_likethecut
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Bookmarked by pixie_likethecut
14 May 2026
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There are worse things than a crush, Samira tells herself. Ischemic heart disease. Aquagenic urticaria. Hemiplegic migraines. Still—crushes are up there.
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That was the thing about Abbot. He seemed to have that kind of chemistry with everyone—always a joke ready to go, a flirty smile or a wink received with a laugh. He wasn't sleazy about it. It wasn't the kind of thing that warranted a note to HR. He was congenial to a fault, but much to Samira's dismay, he never seemed to direct that kind of flirting her direction.
It was for the best, probably. For all she knew, he had shrewdly intuited her less than professional feelings towards him and was trying not to make things harder on her. And it should have made it easier. The buzzing feeling that wracked her brain when he was around would certainly be exacerbated by suggestive comments, but something about the way her brain was wired had her wondering what was wrong with her that excepted her from his charm.
Series
- Part 1 of no empty words
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“Heh, sadly my pedestrian status isn’t by choice. My car croaked a few weeks ago and I haven’t found the energy to shop for a new one. I got it used and it lasted me eight years, so can’t cry about it.”
Her chest and cheeks are heating up, which is par for the course. She’s been deliberating asking to be transferred to the night shift for months now, but seeing Abbot for the handful of minutes while they’re switching off is humiliating enough. Even this boring snippet of small talk is activating the hairs on her arms. Her last proper crush was in med school, and the recipient equally problematic. But this will pass, like the rest. Crushes are like stomach bugs. You accept the pain, feel a bit sorry for yourself, and trust your body to handle it.
Bookmarked by pixie_likethecut
17 Apr 2026
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Dennis Whitaker has never needed fate to tell him who he’s meant to be.
Doctor. Full stop.He just really didn’t expect that on his very last rotation of medical school, his new attending would casually speak the words inked around his bicep.
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Robby has spent years believing soulmates and fate are for two kinds of people: fools and the forgiven. It’s easier than admitting what it would mean if the words on his ribs weren’t a mistake.It’s simple, really:
Whitaker’s his mentee. His legacy, maybe.
Not his soulmate.And if Robby has to burn down every possibility to keep it that way, he will.
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Bookmarked by pixie_likethecut
11 Apr 2026