hucklerobby | rated E for explicit | complete @ 8.6k words
Several months into playing house, Amy finally makes clear what she wants from Dennis. His reaction to her desireâor lack thereofâsends him spiraling about his failure to be the man she needs. Naturally, Dennis does what anyone would do in that situation: holes up in his bossâ bachelor pad, calls said boss on sabbatical, and speed-runs a sexuality crisis over the phone.
Oh, and he also has life-changing phone sex with his boss while heâs outside a roadside bar in Fargo, North Dakota. Itâs an eventful evening, to say the least.
Or: A thesis on Dennis Whitaker, masculinity, and compulsory heterosexuality.
inspired by the season two finale, here are all my thoughts on Whitaker's uneasy relationship with masculinity and comphet jumbled up with Robby's terrible decision-making and also phone sex. excerpt below:
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Fandom: The Terror (TV 2018)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Thomas Jopson/Edward Little
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Established Relationship, Frottage, Dom Thomas Jopson, POV Edward Little (1811-c.1848), Nipple Piercings, Nipple Play, everyone is a woman except goodsir it just felt right, we're rocking with harry because harry is rocking with us
Summary:
Ed Little, middle manager in the corporate hellscape, has had a godawful day at work. Lucky for her, her girlfriend is waiting at home to take her mind off things.
whatâs better than joplittle? thatâs right, girlnavy joplittle! (blacked out reading @spirkkockâs tags about girl nedwardâs cup size and when I came to Iâd written this.)
Chapter Summary: Coffee, tea and the third degree. It's breakfast time at Wayne Manor.
AN: New to posting fics on Tumblr, feel free to read here or over on Ao3 under the username VenusCrytraps. Same bat time, same bat channel.
{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist}
Jason is up first, long before most of the other members have gathered for breakfast. His hair is messy, but his face is clean shaven. He had elected to âforgetâ his shaving kit back at his apartment in the East side in protest, but Alfred always made sure that Jasonâs manor quarters had spares on spares.
Not one to waste the old mans effort, Jason saunters down the wide staircase in a nice shirt and black pants, with his jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks much more put together than usual, a self satisfied smirk on his face lingering from the memory of last nightâs encounter.Â
Bruce eyes him from over his morning paper, watching Jason load proteins and even a few pancakes onto his plate. Everyone else just seems relieved that this holds the potential for a rare, drama-free morning, and greets him with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Youâre the last to arrive, well rested and robed, a modest nightgown peaking out from underneath. You greet everyone individually, even taking the time to ruffle an annoyed Damianâs hair and press a quick appreciative kiss to Bruceâs cheek.
Sitting down next to Jason, you begin to load up your own plate.
âHave some breakfast with your coffee,â You tease, watching as Tim pours himself what is no doubt his second cup since sitting down.
Spirits seem a little less lively than usual, considering this is the first breakfast youâve had in a long time with all of your brothers in attendance. The silence eats at you. You hate being able to hear yourself think. And chew.
âSoooo,â You start, sliding your gaze across the faces of your seated family members. âHow was patrol?â
âNo Bat talk at the table,â Bruce reminds you. He doesnât even bother to look up to scold you, and that kind of ticks you off. He turns the page. âEat your breakfast.â
âSir, yes sir,â You lift your fork in a mock solute, and your dad barely manages to grunt in acknowledgement. Heâs clearly tired. You suspect he hasnât slept much.Â
In comparison to usual, anyway.
Damian, on the other hand, is as eager as you are to fill the grating silence. Which would make you suspicious if you werenât so desperate for some conversation. âWhat else even is there for us to talk about?â He questions, but it goes unanswered.
âI got somethinâ.â Jason, ever eager to get you back for your stunt last night, decides itâs a good time to put the fear of god into you. âNoticed you were up late last night. Donât know what business you had getting dolled up at seven PM.â
Itâs difficult to glare and chew at the same time, you realize. Choking, you just barely keep yourself from stomping on his toes. Retaliation is an admission of guilt, you remind yourself, forcing your shoulders to relax as you took a long, slow sip of your orange juice. Maybe if you donât dignify it with a response, itâll blow over.
Damian is the first to catch on. He stops eating and looks up at you.Â
âYou stayed up for a date?â Damian asks.
You choke again. Itâs more embarrassing this time. Your father clears his throat, but seems to still be reading.
âWhat? No way.â Just roll your eyes. Lean back in your chair. Look relaxed.Â
If anything that brings more attention your way. It was not to your advantage that every other person at this table were seasoned detectives.
âSince when did you guys start being so nosy,â You tease, but man, the tension in your shoulders gets worse. Your fork cuts your toast into the crude shape of a throwing star, and you chuck it at Damian limply. It doesnât even make it across the table.
âSince you started acting suspicious,â Damian says with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. His eyes flash towards you, and leans forward to rest his elbows on his table. âWho was he?â
Bruce turns a page. âDamian.â
"Tt," Huffing, Damian loads your shitty bread weapon onto his fork and flings it back at you, his face unchanged. âIt was obvious a guy. So who was it?â
You gaze slips to Bruce, hoping heâll interject again. He doesnât.
Okay, you think to yourself. Any more denial and itâll start to be a little too stupid and obvious. If you gave them an inch, maybe you wonât have to reveal that Jason lent you nine.
âOh, you know,â A laugh escapes you, and you pour yourself some of Timâs jet fuel. âI was justâŠsocializing. You should try it sometime.â
Thatâs good. A half-truth, mixed in with a little good natured sibling teasing. Maybe there was hope for you after all.
âWith who?â Tim pipes up again, his curiosity clearly piqued. âAnyone we know?â
âCome on, whose the mystery guy? Can we meet him?â Dick adds, shifting forward.
âYeah, Baby Bat,â Jason bears a wicked grin. Heâs got his revenge and more, and you wonder if he trusts you to navigate this situation without getting the two of you caught, or if he just doesnât care. âWe just want to make sure heâs worth your time.â
Heâs kind of getting off on this. Seeing you, sitting next to him in your little rich girl pajamas, your dad at the head of the table none the wiser. There was no way he would have believed you were a ball of sexual frustration under those frills had he not seen it with his own eyes last night.
âWhatâs with the third degree? I didnât realize I was on trial.â You toss your hands up in the air in mock defeat. And real defeat, now that you think about it.
This ship was sinking fast. Time for a diversion tactic. âWhat about you, Tim? Any hot dates recently?â
Tim grins widely, taking in pleasure in seeing you crack. They must be on to something. Even you couldnât pretend to be this bad at lying. âI can neither confirm or deny.â He burns the new dialogue tree to the ground before you can turn anyone elseâs attention away from this brutal line of questioning.
Damian huffs once more, lacing his fingers together. The look on his perfect, beautiful face would otherwise suggest that heâs bored, but you know itâs far from true when you meet his gaze. Heâs got that investigator stare, and if there was somehow any doubt in your mind that he was Bruceâs blood, it was quickly blitzed. âYou should just tell us. You know we will find out.â
âYeah, BB. Itâs in your best interest.â Leaning back in his chair, Jason tosses an arm over the back of yours, sipping his orange juice with wicked amusement. This could not have been less in your best interest. His too, actually.
âOh, whaaat?â You quickly stand, your chair shooting backwards and nearly causing Jason to drop his glass. It would have served him right, but every once in a while gravity favored him despite his size.
 âYou know what? I totally hear my phone ringing. Iâm gonna go take care of that, but like, Iâm so happy to do this another time.â Youâll pencil them in for after the apocalypse. âSee you at the gala!â You head upstairs, genuinely not planning to emerge from the safety of your room until it was time to go.
You think youâre in the clear until you hear Damianâs chair push back, and then you start taking the steps two at a time. Damian warms to the thrill of a physical chase, watching you bound up the stairs like the prey animal you are.
Itâs cute, really. That you think a pair of solid oak doors would stop him from dragging you for information. There wasnât a thing in this house he didnât know, and you were soon going to be made aware of that.
When Whitaker finds out that Dr. Robby has been riding to work without a helmet, he begins to suspect that Robby isnât planning to come back from his sabbatical. Robby all but confirms it when he hands over the keys to his house.
Whitaker makes a decision that changes both of their lives when he calls in the cavalry (i.e. Abbot and Dana) to stop Robby from hurting himself. He does so fully expecting that Robby might never want to speak to him again.Instead, Dennis proves to be the reason that Robby decides to come home.
Or: Slow burn Hucklerobby getting-together fic, starting after the events of s2e09 â3:00 PMâ and exploring the development of their relationship afterwards.Featuring yearning, angst, Jack Abbot serving as Robbyâs unlicensed therapist, Trinity Santos suffering more than Jesus, and gratuitous references to the great state of Nebraska.
brand new fic chapter, come and get it <3 it's one of my fave chapters so far, if only because I finally got to write robby down bad for dennis. your honor that man is whipped
hucklerobby | rated T for teen | complete @ 4,509 words
A minor bicycle accident on Whitakerâs way to work leads Robby to discover that he was homeless during his first rotation at PTMC. Robbyâs reaction to this information also prompts him to realize that his feelings toward Whitaker might run deeper than an attendingâs concern for his star R1.
Luckily, Dana and Abbot are there to talk him through itâor just to hold a mirror up to the truths he refuses to acknowledge. Either way, Robby is so fucked.
a short & silly pre-relationship oneshot, focused on robby realizing he is Down Bad and dana and abbot giving him the side-eye about it. based on a scene concept I had for oneida that ultimately didn't make it into the fic. excerpt below:
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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 Robbyâs unlicensed therapist, Trinity Santos suffering more than Jesus, quite a lot of smut, actually, and gratuitous references to the great state of Nebraska.
new chapter, in which robby & whitaker go on a trip and I give robby more problems than he already has in canon. equal parts angst and humor, with a dash of spice. excerpt below!
hucklerobby | 2/3 chapters, currently 28k words | rated E
When Whitaker finds out that Dr. Robby has been riding to work without a helmet, he begins to suspect Robby isnât planning to come back from his sabbatical. Robby all but confirms it when he hands over the keys to his house.
After Whitaker calls Robbyâs bluff and brings in the cavalry (i.e. Abbot and Dana) to stop him from hurting himself, he has no idea what the future holds. Worse, if Robby will ever speak to him again.
Or: Slow(ish) burn Hucklerobby getting-together fic, starting after the events of s2e09 â3:00 P.M.â and diverging from there. Featuring angst, yearning, Jack Abbot being Robbyâs unlicensed therapist, Trinity Santos doing her best, and gratuitous references to the great state of Nebraska.
above: a whitsantos siblingism snippet from part 2 of my hucklerobby slow burn (santos takes over everything I write regardless of the main pairing, I can't help it)
hucklerobby | 3/3 chapters, 35k words (complete) | rated E
When Whitaker finds out that Dr. Robby has been riding to work without a helmet, he begins to suspect Robby isnât planning to come back from his sabbatical. Robby all but confirms it when he hands over the keys to his house. After Whitaker calls Robbyâs bluff and brings in the cavalry (i.e. Abbot and Dana) to stop him from hurting himself, he has no idea what the future holds. Worse, if Robby will ever speak to him again.
Or: Slow(ish) burn Hucklerobby getting-together fic, starting after the events of s2e09 â3:00 P.M.â and diverging from there. Featuring angst, yearning, Jack Abbot being Robbyâs unlicensed therapist, Trinity Santos doing her best, and gratuitous references to the great state of Nebraska.
Now complete at 3 of 3 chapters and 35,115 words!
below, a favorite bit of dialogue from the final chapter and some relatable late-twenties cope for the zillennials among us:
