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July begins with a bang. The bang is followed by another one, and another, and another; and before Santos knows it, she is stepping into the blindingly bright sunlight of a summer day, cutting across the street to the construction site, looking for a way to unplug the monstrous drill splitting the ground open and keeping her awake.
“Hey! You cannot be here” is shouted on cue only for Santos to come face to face with a Latina. The most beautiful woman she has ever laid eyes on. Who is glaring at Santos with a look vicious enough to have her lose any human ability of forming a coherent thought.
“You need to get the hell out of my site”.
Santos isn’t in the business of staying firm when spoken to by drop-dead gorgeous, condescending women. But she hasn’t been home for more than three hours after a brutal shift and so she snaps;
“I’m an R2 stuck in an ER’s night shift. What I need to do is get some fucking sleep”.
Or
Yolanda Garcia is the architect overseeing a project’s construction. Trinity Santos lives right across the street.
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safe in your arms like towers by Renegade_Reaper
Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)
28 Aug 2026
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Understanding comes in small ways. Miniscule, even.
For Vi, it had always been hard to understand the world around her. Let alone the people in it. The only person she'd really, truly understood was Powder, and even that had fallen apart. Besides, they were kids, and kids didn't really grasp much of anything about the world.
***
pit fighter vi and the author's yearning to come home to someone willing to pick up the pieces.
Bookmarked by Bonecake
29 Aug 2026
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Three weeks after ending a ten month situationship, Trinity Santos transfers to night shift hoping that new routines, new people, and a new shift will be enough to outrun one heartbreak.
Instead, she finds Jack Abbot loudly claiming her as one of his own, John Shen making coffee that should qualify as a controlled substance, Parker Ellis providing an endless running commentary, Crus being Crus, and Emery Walsh appearing often enough that "coincidence" starts losing all meaning.
As impossible traumas, 3am coffees and endless night shifts slowly become routine, strangers become family and nights begin to feel like home. For the first time in a long time, Trinity starts building a life she never thought she'd have.
But healing is rarely linear, and some ghosts don't stay buried just because you've changed shifts. When the past finally catches up with her, Trinity is forced to decide whether letting someone truly know her is worth the risk of losing them.
Sometimes the hardest part isn't surviving what happened to you. It's believing someone could know all of it and choose to stay anyway.
Emery Walsh has decided. She isn't going anywhere.
Or: The slowburn walshtos I want in the world
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“Call a therapist”. The precision of the cut Yolanda absolutely meant to make but surely didn’t aim for such depth – was another thing to think right after the memory of Langdon’s voice daring to utter; “I’d be happy to teach Dr. Santos” and Yolanda not even blinking when –
Picking up the phone and saying, “No”, when Yolanda asked to swing by for the evening; was the easiest thing Trinity had done all week.
But following up with, “I think we’re done”, had choked the oxygen out.
She didn’t catch the flutter of Yolanda’s breathing; too busy trying to fight her way out the window to sit on the hot metal of the fire escape and try to suck in a clear inhale. She did catch the precise delivery of a “cool, thanks for the heads up”, before Yolanda hanged up the phone.
Or
The Fourth of July had been nothing more than a bad shift; but the span of the days after it, created a pocket of time.
A pocket of time for Santos to remember even when the memory of the shift on the Fourth faded. Whitaker moving out, Javadi moving in, Al-Hashimi taking a leap. Garcia asking to stay.
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Summary
Walsh scoffs. “Don’t make this weird. You’re in your last year of residency and trying to manage housing is a big stressor that I can take off your plate.” She pauses, biting her lip. Samira’s eyes fall, involuntarily, to the action. “But, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can see if—”
“I’ll take it.”
Walsh blinks. “Great.” She nods. “Okay. I thought that would be a much harder sell.”
or: Samira learns to want
