hello message received that i need to reblog to support creators so ✨side blog be upon ye✨
y’all can call me meg :)
in my 20’s. in the medical field woohoo!

Kiana Khansmith
sheepfilms
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

oozey mess
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izzy's playlists!
One Nice Bug Per Day
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@theartofmadeline
almost home
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AnasAbdin
Peter Solarz

if i look back, i am lost
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#extradirty

Kaledo Art

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@dr-hucklerabbot
hello message received that i need to reblog to support creators so ✨side blog be upon ye✨
y’all can call me meg :)
in my 20’s. in the medical field woohoo!
Their first day off together… they planned to go out for dinner but ended up like this around 2pm…
anyways. michael robinavitch you are the main character of this story and we're going to watch you get healthy and address your demons and you're going to see brighter days and be loved by people because you are so loved by those characters and we're going to see the robby we've yet to meet.
grief overwhelming jack (proper going crazy, devastating movie scene kinda thing) and robby going to him and comforting him?
You’re prompt was very hurt/comfort and I’m sorry anon but I kinda flopped on the “comfort” part 😖
Robby is welcomed home by pitch black darkness and distant rustling coming from his and Jack’s bedroom.
“Jack?” He calls. “Everything good?”
He flicks a light on. Nothing looks out of place, but the air is uneasy.
“Jack,” he shouts again. “You good babe?”
He creeps further into the house. A shallow warm light streams from under the shut door of their room. He pushes the door open; inside, Jack is shoving clothes into a suitcase, another sits already packed at the end of the bed.
“What are you doing?”
Jack’s neck snaps toward him then away in an instant, as if looking at Robby burns. “Leaving.”
“Did something happen?” Robby asks. Is your sister okay?”
“She’s fine.” Jack scurries over to the closet and pulls out the last of his clothing. “I just need to get out.”
Robby sighs, tucking his chin against his chest. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. It was stupid of him to trust Jack when he said he’d be alright on his own today. “I know her birthday is hard—“
“Every day is hard,” Jack bites. He still won’t look at Robby.
“Have you spoken to your therapist today?”
“Busy.”
“You or her?”
“Fuck off.”
Robby jaw clicks. Okay. “Where are you going?”
“Hotel.”
“For how long?”
“Don’t know. Forever.”
“You’re going to live in a hotel forever? That’s the plan?”
“I don’t have a fucking plan,” Jack shouts. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t know what’s going on. But I know I’ve fucked this up.”
“Fucked what up?”
“My life! I should be dead. I should’ve been driving, it should’ve been be me that got hit. I should have bled out in Afghanistan. But instead I’m what? Working at this broke ass hospital that doesn’t give a shit about us?Married to you? I can’t believe I did that to her. I never even see you, it’s not even worth it.” He slams the suitcase shut.
A threateningly eerie silence overwhelms the room.
Robby takes the hit like a bullet. A bullet might be easier; he’d joke about it with Jack if the air wasn’t so so thick that it’s clogging his throat. It only dissolves when Jack’s chin wobbles guiltily.
“You’re going to regret that in the morning,” Robby whispers.
“I regret it now.” Jack’s voice is weak and wet. He hide his face in the half folded shirt in his grip and muffles his pitiful sobs.
Robby takes a deep breath, and slowly approaches. A gentle hand lands between Jack’s shoulders, that’s all it takes for Jack to collapse into his arms. He massages small circles on his back as Jack cries, once his tears subside and the sobs turn to hiccups, Robby speaks.
“Do you still want to leave?”
Jack shakes his head, then halts. “I feel like I should.”
“I don’t want you to, if it makes a difference.”
Jack tears start back up again. He chokes apologies into Robby’s shoulder.
“It’s fine,” Robby says.
“It’s not fine.” A harsh sniff echoes through the room. “I can’t believe I said that. I’m a terrible husband.”
“You’re not.”
“I am,” Jack insists. He leans back, his bright red face in full view. One trembling hand cups Robby’s jaw. “I’m sorry, Mike. I didn’t mean what I said.”
Robby bites his tongue. He has a strong sense of intuition telling him that Jack did mean it, but usually has the good sense to keep it to himself or at least weigh the pros and cons. But there’s no reason to argue now, it wouldn’t do anything except upset Jack more, and Robby has accepted his place in Jack’s life as the rebound gone too far. He’s just too selfish to let him go.
“Let’s start on the couch,” Robby offers. “Have some dinner, watch TV, then we can see about bed.”
Jack gives a shaky nod and latches himself around Robby again. Robby pulls him in tighter.
Hucklerabbot + memory ficlet
tw dementia, vomit
Something I wrote to decompress... it's about Dennis working with a patient who's in the late stages of Alzheimer's disease, and he takes it pretty hard.
It's probably sad, so fair warning. It also may or may not take a couple thousand words to get to the Hucklerabbot of it all. Explanations for medical abbreviations at the end! You can also read here on Ao3.
(Rabbot call dennis "mouse" in this, but I'm not sure who to credit as originally coming up with it. Definitely not me, though!)
“And if I don’t come back…”
Rabbotfest - Day 3: You came/You called
“Please leave a message at the tone.” Beep.
“Hey, Jack.” Robby coughs. He didn’t plan what he would say if he didn’t answer; didn’t even plan what he’d say if he did. “I, uh, I don’t know. I’m at… I don’t know. Some place in upstate New York.” He kicks at the ground. Loose dirt tumbles over the edge of the cliff. “Nice views. Mountains and whatever.”
He sighs. “I’m fucking exhausted. Don’t feel like you need to call me back or anything. Can’t guarantee I’ll answer. Anyway, um, bye.”
Robby ends the call with a groan and kneads the kink in his neck. Though he loathes to admit it, everyone was right; starting his ride after a long shift was a bad idea. His bike is parked outside a last-minute room he booked at some shoddy motel with an unsuspectingly good view. Though maybe this is what it’s like outside of a city. Without traffic and apartments to block the horizon, the world grows.
Robby crawls under the scratchy covers of the motel bed and lets the day catch up to him. Within seconds, he falls into a dreamless sleep.
He wakes hours later when the sun is high in the sky, streaming yellow beams into his room. His body aches from the lumpy mattress, and humid air is winning the fight against the crappy air conditioning. The thought of sitting on a leather seat that’s been baking in the sun all morning and riding in a thick jacket is wildly unappealing. Not even a full day in, and he’s already regretting this trip.
He gets dressed and heads outside. Next to his bike is a familiar black truck. Strange.
Muffled shouting breaks through the walls of the main building as Robby approaches to return his key. A deep frown etches itself on his face; that voice can’t belong to whom he thinks it does.
“Please! Please! Ma’am,” the voice says. “I’m not some creep, or a crazy person, but I really, really need to know. If you could please—“
“Sir,” the receptionist says calmly. “I’ve already told you; I can’t give out guest information.”
“You don’t have to tell me the room. Just tell me if he checked in here. I know that’s his bike outside—“
Robby is close enough now to see through the window; he’d know that stance anywhere. “Jack?”
Jack whips around just as Robby steps through the door. Quick as lightning, he latches his arms around Robby’s shoulders. “Fuck, Mike. Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me.”
“I— what’re you doing here?”
“You left me that fucking voicemail. I thought…” he shakes his head, and hides himself in Robby’s neck.
Robby tentatively wraps his arms around Jack’s middle. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the receptionist take the opportunity to leave. “You drove all this way because of a voicemail?”
“Was barely six hours,” Jack mutters. His lips brush against Robby’s skin.
Robby checks his watch. 10:30am. “You only got off work three hours ago?”
Jack takes a step back, but keeps a firm hand on the back of Robby’s neck to balance himself. “Shen said he was good on his own, so I left early.”
“Why?”
“I called you back, and you didn’t answer.” Jack’s chin wobbles.
“I was asleep,” Robby laughs shallowly. “It’d been a long day.”
“You said you wouldn’t answer.” The wrinkles around Jack’s eyes contort with the scrunch of his nose as he holds back tears. “I couldn’t risk it.”
“I just meant because I might be on the road.”
“Don’t,” Jack says sharply, “act like I’m overreacting. You know why I was scared.”
Robby’s shoulders slump. “You must be tired. I still have a room.”
Jack nods. “Then we’ll go home.”
“Okay.”
“Really?”
Robby considers the dread that filled him at the thought of riding further out this morning. “Yeah. Really.”
Jack nods, eyes locked on Robby’s like he’s looking for the rug that could be pulled from under him. When he decides to trust the answer he’s been given, he wraps an arm over Robby’s shoulders and leans his weight on him.
“Leg bothering you?”
“I’ve had a long day too.”
“Don’t doubt it.” He happily takes Jack’s bulk and guides him back toward the room. “How’d you find me?”
“I’ll always find you.”
A laugh breaks through him. “How romantic.”
“I have my moments.” For the first time all morning, Jack smiles. “And I hid an AirTag on your bike.”
Robby sucks in a breath and digs his fingers deeper into Jack’s waist. “I’m going to let that slide for now.”
“You should be grateful I did it.”
He is.
Doodlin day:) as much as I love younger Robby and modern Jack, it’s also plenty fun the other way around
SHAWN HATOSY on TODAY (▶ prev interviews)
someone has a crush on their
ty @/littleartistan on twt
dennis starting to fall asleep between jack and robby, fiddling with jack’s fingers, spinning the wedding band around his ring finger absentmindedly. jack taking it off and slipping it onto dennis’s finger, kissing his fingertips before intertwining their fingers. robby making some comment about how that looks good on you.
and dennis’s heart skips a beat because it suddenly hits him just how serious they are about him, he’s not just some boy toy being used to spice up their marriage
This is their ideal date night. Just slow dancing in the kitchen waiting for the food to be ready 💘
has a 17th century french woman alter ego, loves boba, has immeasurable amounts of whimsy, dr mel king every tongue that rises against you shall fall !!
Unidos
since so many (2) people asked: here is a small guide to old man whitaker
Rabbot Hugs | 1.12 + 2.15
thinking about hucklerabbot aging… especially rabbot… i believe these are NOT men that would accept their aging with grace.
they only go to their doctors appointments (“really den, we ARE doctors, we don’t really need to go see another one…”) because dennis asks them to and they can’t say no when he looks up at them like 🥺 “i just want to have as much time with you as possible so i need you to be healthy and stay alive”.
dennis goes with them to their appointments and usually it’s all three of them because of course they are invested in each OTHER’s health just not their own! they silently (robby) or not so silently (jack) judge what the doctors say like 🤨 “my kidney function is fine thank you very much i was just a little dehydrated”. (it’s part denial and part actual valid interpretation of data).
but eventually something scares them—maybe an enlarged lymph node that could be cancer or a cold that turns into pneumonia that turns into sepsis. and it starts to hit rabbot that they’re getting old. they can’t do what they used to anymore. they’re not going to be able to work forever. and they’re not just grieving for themselves that “hey life is going to look different now,” but they’re also grieving for the time that they’re not going to have with dennis. they’re not going to be able to come with him to all HIS doctors’ appointments as he ages. they won’t be able to squabble over HIS blood pressure medication. they won’t be able to hold HIS hand when he gets tough news about his health. they won’t be there when he has to move into assisted living or when he signs his DNR or when he breaks down because he’s scared of dying alone.
anyways!