brawlite
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Summary
Jack finds Robby after his shift, presses his house keys into Robby's palm, and says "I better find you there when I get home." Robby is too tired, too numb to argue.
When Robby wakes up, he is no longer numb. He makes that Jack's problem.
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After a losing game, Scott Hunter just wants to go home and drown his sorrows in cheap beer and an empty apartment—Ilya Rozanov has other ideas.
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Robby keeps hearing about Jack's love life second-hand. Which is weird, given that he didn't think Jack even had one. Turns out, Robby is just the last to know, even though Jack is his best friend. What gives?
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Last night, Robby came home to find Frank Langdon in his living room—sick, shaking, unwell. When Robby wakes up in the morning, Langdon is gone. Robby spirals.
Series
- Part 2 of throw away my past mistakes
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After a bad day, Frank Langdon takes refuge from his own thoughts in a place he used to know well: Robby’s house. Unfortunately, Frank doesn’t leave quickly enough before Robby's shift is over, and Robby comes home to a house less empty than he left it.
Series
- Part 1 of throw away my past mistakes
Recent series
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- Words:
- 15,509
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 46
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Summary
Sometimes choices have unintended consequences and some times your dreams go walking.
- Words:
- 3,063
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 2
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Summary
everything and a pack of morleys.
- Words:
- 5,305
- Works:
- 4
- Bookmarks:
- 6
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baby teeth by brawlite
Fandom Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008), Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023)
05 Jul 2023
- Words:
- 7,662
- Works:
- 1
- Bookmarks:
- 10
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paresthesia by brawlite
Fandom Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008), Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023)
06 Jun 2023
- Words:
- 10,894
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 34
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
The apartment is dark and Robby is squinting in the weak light that spills in from the hallway, mouth slack, cheeks pink, clearly just awoken from sleep. He is wearing a plaid flannel bathrobe, the white fleece lining the inside of the collar lumpy and matted from being washed too many times. The robe hangs open, revealing Robby’s hairy chest and the pale curve of his belly, his dark-colored boxer shorts.
Bookmarked by brawlite
15 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“Yeah, you’re right,” Robby says archly, “if I were well-adjusted I’d listen to the police scanner for fun.”
“At least shit happens on that,” Jack counters.
“Exactly!” Robby says. “Aren’t you tired of shit happening? Don’t you want to relax, secure in the knowledge that they’ll never actually find Bigfoot?”
That’s actually a good point, though Jack will never admit it to Robby. -
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“Look at you. Doing just what you were bred for, aren’t you, pup?”
Whitaker whines happily, throat deliciously sore. He loves the thought - some dogs were bred to hunt game, some were bred to guard livestock, he was bred to take Jack Abbot’s cock.
“Should we take a picture for your owner before we get you cleaned up?”
“Ruff!"
****
Robby needs a dog sitter - he’d hate to leave his sweet pup Huckleberry all alone during his shift. Thank goodness Jack Abbot’s available.
Series
- Part 2 of all dogs go to heaven (the series)
Bookmarked by brawlite
05 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“Hi,” Robby murmurs, standing close enough to make his intentions known.
Jack gives him a soft chuckle. “Hi.”
Robby leans in, nose nearly touching Jack’s. “Is it…inappropriate to kiss the dog sitter?”
“If that’s inappropriate then we’ve got way bigger problems,” Jack replies, closing the gap.
They kiss, and Whitaker crosses his arms on the back of the couch and rests his head on them. Robby’s hand fits perfectly on the back of Jack’s neck, Jack’s hand sits on Robby’s hip like it’s done it a million times. He’s obsessed with watching everything Robby and Jack do - he can never decide if he feels like an absolute pervert watching a live porn made just for him, or a field scientist carefully observing and documenting the behavior of a new species of finch. -
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Summary
"A glimpse through an interstice caught . . .
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word."
Walt Whitman
A motorcycle accident, and all that comes after.
Bookmarked by brawlite
03 May 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Robby says nothing, does nothing. But his skin is warm, and his chest rises and falls, and Jack feels himself choke on every confusing, conflicted feeling he’s had in the last several hours.
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Frank can kind of understand it now, he guesses. The way everyone looks at this kid like they used to look at him. He’s a promise. A present under the tree with a big shiny red ribbon. He’s just got to be unwrapped. Frank was always the first kid down the stairs on Christmas morning.
Frank takes out his frustrations on PTMC's new Golden Boy.
Bookmarked by brawlite
22 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
Whitaker’s entire face creases in what looks like pure, mind-blanking agony. He makes this sharp, gasping, enticing little noise. His entire body shudders, but somehow, he doesn’t wince away. He stays right where he is and he takes it. Pale, ice blue, midwest-indie-band-album-cover-sad eyes slide open and there’s something new. Something dark and terrifying and something that plays a chord, a perfect melodic progression of the same malevolent tune that hums through Frank’s bones.
The kid folds like paper. Frank doesn’t even have to push. -
Tags
Summary
As soon as Jack registers that there’s a person-sized shadow huddled on the front steps to his apartment, he knows that it’s Robby. He recognizes the contours of the body backlit by the bulb which illuminates the steps: short hair disarrayed, limned with gold in the light; the line of his throat, starkly pale beside the soft thick darkness of his beard; the defeated slope of his shoulders under the same green long-sleeved shirt he wore during his shift. Jack slows his pace as he approaches. Robby must notice him, the only figure on the empty street, but he doesn’t move.
Bookmarked by brawlite
14 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
“What I’m saying is. Maybe you just haven’t had the right person explain the lightning to you before.”
Robby takes a deep breath, his whole body heaving with it, shoulder rising against the arm Jack still has curled around him. Jack thinks about all the invisible biological processes that make this possible: the millions of tiny alveoli in his lungs all filling with air, the muscles and cartilage that allow the structure of the ribcage to expand with each breath. How monstrously delicate the human body; how capricious each biological mechanism, how prone to failure. How inextricably bound we are to these processes.