#& no i will not be providing further context :)))

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

Off-Duty - Dr. Jack Abbot x wife!reader

Summary: 1k words. Jack comes into the Pitt on his day off with no intention of working. One of his little guests has an affinity for raising his father’s blood pressure and adding to his gray hair. Part 2, Hung The Stars here!

Warnings: unnecessarily long sentences, so sweet it’ll rot your teeth fluff. Poking fun at the U.S. military industrial complex (specifically the Marines). Whitaker catching strays.

a/n: Allow me to contribute to the Girl Dad Abbot Agenda. I gave him fraternal twins here, but his new baby is also a girl. So. The Abbot household will be 3-2 girls-boys because feminism. Divider credit!

If looks could kill, Whitaker would be a dead man.

The med student was approaching the provider dictation desk, about to sit down in a padded rolling chair for the first time all shift when Doctor Abbot firmly gripped the back of the chair seconds before Whitaker could reach for it.

“Oh, uh, sir- I was just gonna sit down and do some charting,” the med student explained in a rush with his perpetual terrified ghost of a Victorian child look.

“You can stand.” Dr. Abbot deadpanned, snatching the chair and whisking it towards the peds ED room.

“Wha-” Whitaker stood, mouth slightly parted. The kid was intelligent and had come into his own throughout his emergency medicine rotation, but some things and some people still never ceased to shock him. He watched through the glass door as Dr. Abbot got far closer to a woman, whom he assumed was the peds patient’s mother, than was professionally necessary.

The woman came into full view, displaying the swell of her belly. The student raised his eyebrows. It was a bold move, even for Dr. Abbot. He estimated the woman to be at the end of her second trimester, if not well into her third.

A toddler bounced from behind the woman and quickly attached herself to Abbot’s leg (the flesh one, anyway). The attending smiled—perhaps for the first time in recorded human history, thought Whitaker—before picking up the child and propping her up on his hip, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

The mother turned to Abbot and smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips while he massaged her lower back with his free hands. His wedding band stuck out against the woman’s lighter shirt. Ah. The wife. A moan that definitely wasn’t appropriate for the workplace escaped the woman, seemingly unknowingly, leaving Abbot with a subtle smirk on his face.

Jack guided his wife into the comfortable chair he’d commandeered. Whitaker envied the relief on her face. The lumbar support cushion and ergonomic design could’ve made him cry. His body was aching for relief after hours on his feet, but he conceded that the woman needed it more than he did.

With a barely audible whimper, the med student went back to his original task. He’s startled when a foldable plastic chair, the ones that are typically kept in patient rooms for guests, unceremoniously clatters down next to him, brought over by none other than the stoic night shift attending.

“My wife said she’s sorry for stealing your seat. I’m not.” Dr. Abbot provided no further context before heading straight back to the room he came from. Some of the surrounding ED staff caught wind of the interaction and glanced up at the status board.

PEDS RM 1. 3 YRS 5 MOS MALE J. ABBOT. FOREIGN BODY INGESTION

Understanding hums sounded out before everyone went back to work.

It was rare to see Jack in anything other than black scrubs at the hospital. Today, he was in full Dad mode. The pink glitter nail polish on his fingers matched his daughter’s. His white New Balance sneakers and cargo shorts allowed a clear view of his prosthetic, which his son had decorated with dinosaur stickers. If you looked close enough, you could see a small apple sauce stain on his shirt.

You relaxed further into the chair and closed your eyes once Jack came back to witness your daughter Ellie toddling around the exam room. At 30 weeks pregnant, rest and comfort were becoming increasingly difficult to come by, especially when raising 3-year-old twins.

Dr. Collins caught Jack sitting at the end of the gurney with his son when she waltzed in, tailed by Matteo.

“What brings you all in today? It’s a pleasure to see the Abbot family. Some members more than others…” Heather teased, making a show out of whispering to Jack’s wife and tickling Ellie.

“Jacob here ate some crayons. Maybe some other stuff too. I want imaging of the GI tract to rule out any other foreign bodies or obstructions,” Jack rattled off, never taking his eyes off his son. The doctor’s leathered, weathered hand dwarfed his son’s small leg. Jack had a tough time letting go of his kids, especially when they were hurt or sick.

“Maybe he’s got a future career in the Marines,” Matteo joked.

“Watch it.” Jack warned with an even glare. The intense look on his face didn’t last long; his wife’s giggle brought a small smile to his face as he glanced toward her. 

You winced when the baby delivered a particularly strong jab to your ribs. Jack’s smile quickly turned to concern before you shook your head to reassure him and ran a hand over your bump. Collins and Matteo didn’t miss the silent communication between the couple.

It made sense for the two of you. You were so in sync—always had been. The Pitt staff rarely got to see Jack’s wife, which you supposed was a good thing. Jack tried to keep his personal and professional life separate, but he’d become known for loving you and your little family so much. He would take your calls in the middle of a shift, routinely add more photos of his family to his locker, and occasionally show up to work with glittery nail polish if he forgot to remove it before clocking in.

Doctor Collins high-fived little Jacob, who was the spitting image of his father, after he tolerated the physical exam.

“No guarding or tenderness. Bowel sounds are hypoactive but present. Has he been NPO otherwise?” The physician glanced between the parents.

“We had breakfast around 8,” you supplied, exhaling when you got another sharp kick straight to the bladder.

“Alright. I’ll put in the imaging orders. Radiology will come and grab you guys soon,” Dr. Collins waved goodbye to the toddlers. 

Matteo kept a stash of stickers in his scrub pocket for the kiddos that came into the Pitt. Jacob gladly accepted one and promptly stuck it on Jack’s prosthetic. Matteo blinked a couple of times, watching the exchange. 

Jack was unfazed. His children seldom went a day without leaving their mark on him. If painted nails and a decorated prosthetic leg made them happy and preserved their innocence, he was happy to be a canvas.

The racecar was a fun addition to the dinosaurs anyway.

a/n: Please let me know what you think! Reblogs & comments keep me motivated <3

Companion piece: Hung The Stars

master list | post notifications @thesewordsxupdates

[furyblaze76tm]

🤔🧐📜📍🌿Green ✌🏾

Understanding Martyrdom

🐦‍🔥JET Mag©

@furyblaze76tm @instagram @greenpartyoftheunitedstates-blog @greenpeaceusa @waynestate

Martyrdom is a profound and often complex concept that encompasses the Act Of Suffering, dying, or enduring hardship for a cause, particularly in the context of religion, ideology, or SOCIAL JUSTICE.

👾A. I. Video

Here’s a closer look at its significance and implications:

🗝️Aspects of Martyrdom

**Definition**:

- A **Martyr** is someone who sacrifices their life or undergoes significant suffering for their beliefs or principles.

- The term is most commonly associated with religious contexts, where martyrs are venerated for their faith.

**Historical Context**:

- Throughout history, many figures have been recognized as martyrs, such as Saint Stephen, the first Christian martyr, and Various Activists who Fought Against Oppression.

**Cultural Significance**:

- Martyrdom can inspire movements and create powerful narratives within communities. It often serves to galvanize followers and draw attention to specific causes.

**Psychological & Social Implications**:

- The act of martyrdom can evoke a range of responses, from reverence & admiration to fear & conflict.

• In some cases, it can lead to radicalization or acts of violence in the name of a cause.

**Modern Examples**:

- In contemporary society, individuals who sacrifice their lives for political or SOCIAL CAUSES are sometimes deemed martyrs, influencing public opinion and ACTIVISM.

Conclusion

Martyrdom remains a potent symbol in various cultures and ideologies.

• Understanding its implications can provide insight into human behavior, social movements, and the dynamics of belief systems.

If you have any specific questions or aspects of martyrdom you’d like to explore further, feel free to ask!

The Martyrdom of Saint Cecilia (1600) Stefano Maderno

Photo:  Sailko

[valtsv]

digging your own grave and building your own tower are the same thing btw

[janitorpostman]

people who are like "oh no they ruined Caitlyn she is on the bad side now" am I the only one glad that Caitlyn's character took this turn? She was the face of the enforcers to the viewers for such a long time. She was kind, compassionate and diligent, the perfect "good cop".

But that's not a fair representation of the enforcers now, is it.

Vi and Powder were orphaned by enforcers. Kind? No.

When in order to survive, they snuck into Piltover to steal goods to sell them, it was enforcers's job to catch and punish these kids, no questions about what kinda life drove these children to do that asked. Compassionate? No.

When Vi got kidnapped arrested. She was put in prison for 6+ years, I doubt there was ever a due court process to determine whether this child was really guilty and deserved imprisonment or not. Diligent? No.

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

"Oh my ears and whiskers! It's not the time for tears!"

[georgeknightley]

extremely normal things happening on the elis james & john robins show

[sneegsnitties]

alive but gay and i want to be gay and happy not gay and sad are basically the same thing to me

[transgenderprototype]

[the-sol-eater]

been thinking about this for a few days, and I feel the need to consult the masses

[zeebreezin]

doodle for today: @capn-twitchery ‘s Twitch but they’re holding the Weasel of Woe like this

[andwhatnot1]

Even in his final moment...

ZHUGE LIANG!

[evil-mcytblrconfessions]

I was pretty neurotypical but for some reason since i watched kenadian i cannot get his blorbo out of my head

I litteraly just spontaneously created an alternate personality that is just kenadian and he loves commenting everyhting that i do like it's some sort of debunk video.

just this morning i heard him say "You should use f5 you probably missed something" while i was searching for my phone i can't

.

[silenthowls]

⸻ 𝒂 𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒔

The day is December 26th, 2016. In these moments that lead into the interrogation, the rook finds himself at odds with everything and everyone. It is a pivotal moment that will change him more than he will ever know.

When Jin Yohan was young, his father sat him down and gave him a talking to. It wasn't something he did this time, but a lesson given for posterity. "Never talk to the cops", he said. "even if you think it's right to tell the truth." As a child, he never quite understood. After all, his parents would not tell him of any of the potential shady backend dealings and insider trading that his undeveloped mind could not yet comprehend. It was an entirely preventative measure — a lesson.

It is strange how muddled his head gets as he waits his turn. He battles against morals that suddenly want to appear, knowing giving into them would betray everything he fought to be a part of. How annoying, he muses internally, leaning back in the stiff chair. He keeps his arms folded, a guard.

The grief has finally caught up to him and now he can hardly manage to breathe or speak straight. Lack of sleep and food shows clearly on his face. The rings around his eyes are red and inflamed, deep with signs of mourning and regret.

The young man had been holding back the waterworks for the entirety of Hyungseo's missing period, and it only culminates when he is told that he is dead. Just as he feared. He has barely been able to function properly since then. Everyone knows it, too. How could they not after the way he shouted and shed an embarrassing amount of tears in front of everyone?

"All of you! All of you are responsible for what happened!" he howled, his rage only spurred on by a spat between other members shortly before. Something inside of Jin Yohan snapped. The mask of sanity slips and he releases every bit of vitriolic spit they all knew he had in him. He does what he can before he's led away — before he can raise his fists and turn the tragedy into a disaster. "Mark my words," he adds as he's pulled, a sentence ( among other words ) he soon forgets when everything goes dark. "My blood will be on your hands next."

His father reminds him again of what to do the evening before the interrogation, hand firm and unwavering. It had been frequent ever since Yohan's little show at Hyungseo's funeral; despite his mother's shocking pleads to take it easy on him this time. ( And even though he thrashed with all his might, that man always ended up beating him back into submission. It never mattered how good of a fighter Yohan was. He always let him because he deserved it. It is ultimately that bastard of a father that forces leads him to give into the whims of what others want him to do. )

As he shifts in the chair, the wooden joints squeak. He rubs his cheek, then his arm, the space above his heart. Everything hurts.

However, there are some things that must be done. Withholding information isn't necessarily lying, and giving snippets of the truth isn't necessarily ratting the entire club out. Even so, Yohan needed quite the convincing to not spill every secret, every piece of information in great detail. He sits here overwhelmed, exhausted, demoralized. No amount of standing like a zombie before Hyungseo's memorial would bring him back.

The detectives finally file their way into the room one by one, gently shutting the door behind them. It is not the first nor last time Yohan would be questioned in this way. His eyes follow them until they take their place across from him.

"Jin Yohan," the man speaks first, flipping through the file he has on him. He turns the page over and shoots him a smile. It is quite obvious both of them are making their attempts to soothe his nerves. They must have heard about his little series of outbursts. "How are you doing today?"

Yohan glances at the window behind them before making eye contact. He isn't so sure of himself — his mind in ruin. "As fine as I can be," he clears his throat midway to keep his voice from shaking. If only they all could see him now. "I'm tired."

"Did you have a good Christmas, Yohan? Get any nice gifts?" The ice breaking is too obvious now.

"No... Not really." The answer is firm and cold. His eyes avert so he doesn't begin to tremble like a leaf thinking about the night before. This is an interrogation, not a therapy session. "So... what do you want to know? It's about... H-hyu...—"

"Hyungseo. That's correct. We won't keep you too long. Don't worry. It must be hard for you. We only need you to answer a few questions."

[sml8180]

Me, giving Reginald a watch that more than likely contributed to the death of somebody in the process of its manufacturing?

More likely than you think.

[ljubimaya]

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever reach the brilliance of 14 year old me, who had to prepare a presentation on Unterm Rad/Beneath the Wheel and explained with no notes, just full confidence, that the main protagonist has been doomed by the narrative from the beginning, since his last name "Giebenrath" had the old German word "Rath", which translates to wheel

[wolfskullz]

not ALL men -- beach bear from the rock-afire explosion would never treat me like this