FlipperBoot9054
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Summary
"You wouldn’t want to repeat your R2 year again because of this.”
“I may need a rain check.”
Two sentences end up sending Trinity spiraling in the middle of her 4th of July shift. When she has a panic attack Trinity finds support in an unlikely place and is reminded that leaning on people isn't weakness. If only it were that simple.
Or: Trinity Santos has lived her life in survival mode for so long she's forgotten what it feels like to actually live.
Series
- Part 1 of If This Is Ruin, Let It Ruin Me
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 56,741
- Chapters:
- 15/15
- Comments:
- 180
- Kudos:
- 1,564
- Bookmarks:
- 245
- Hits:
- 40,991
Bookmarked by FlipperBoot9054
12 Jun 2026
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Summary
How Trinity’s coworkers find out she went to the Olympics via their search history. Or, a kid comes into the ED and recognizes Santos as an Olympian and her coworkers all do the responsible thing and immediately search her name up to get gossip.
Series
- Part 1 of Olympian Trinity Santos
Bookmarked by FlipperBoot9054
12 Jun 2026
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Summary
Trinity has her hand inside of a patient, and a bomb tightly tucked in her grip.
Her palm is soaked in sweat, a sticky ecosystem maturing rapidly beneath the tight latex of her gloves, and her heart is thundering so hard that she’s surprised Dennis hasn’t felt it yet from where he’s standing across the operating table.
Or;
Greys Anatomy- bomb ep meets garsantos <33
Bookmarked by FlipperBoot9054
12 Jun 2026
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Summary
Trinity's soul tattoo isn't that hard to show off even if it takes a second to make out.
It's the reason she goes into medicine in the first place and why she's trying for a surgical residency. Turns out she doesn't have to.
Or
Soulmates bear matching tattoos of an object relevant to their first meeting.
Bookmarked by FlipperBoot9054
08 Jun 2026
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Summary
Trinity knows it’s inevitable. She understand that this–this thing–can only coil so tightly before it snaps. And guess who’s ass is in the trap?
‘Santos. A word.’
Not a question. Not even a suggestion, really. An order veiled as something softer, something less loaded. Garcia doesn’t even look at her; pert buns swaying slightly as she and her perfect posture lead Trinity to the stairwell. How is she still standing like that–after, what, nine hours? Trinity aches. She has blisters from her shitty tennis shoes that Huckleberry insisted she buy–her ratty old gym shoes were fine, by the way–and an omnipresent thudding behind her eyes and the inability to keep her shoulders rolled anywhere but forward. Garcia spins on her heel; her shoes are pristine, white and stitched with fine thread. Trinity wants to die, just a little.
‘You’ve been avoiding me.’
There it is. Trap, meet ass. She’s been told she has a nice one, so hopefully that counts for something.
Bookmarked by FlipperBoot9054
06 Jun 2026