Call me Em

22 She/they pronouns.

[zylahbee]

sexism in medicine kills people. racism in medicine kills people. fatphobia in medicine kills people. queerphobia in medicine kills people. classism in medicine kills people. ableism in medicine kills people.

do not downplay people’s fears about being mistreated because they are a part of a marginalised group. it is a matter of life and death and you should be angry about it.

[thy-lovelylionheart]

“I can’t carry it for you, but I can carry you,” is one of the rawest lines in all of fiction and it pierces me like a blade every time I hear it

[bunbunbatty]

MY HEART EVERY TIME I SEE THAT SCENE!!

[apfelkernchen]

[voidsagent]

can i just say that one of my favorite things in jack abbot fics are when jokes about his leg.

give me that man jokingly quipping “thought he was gonna take my other leg” when robby yells at him.

give me him threatening to take it off and smack someone with it.

give me him saying “are you pulling my leg?” with reader immediately going “which leg, cause one will come off if i pull it.”

give me jack pranking new med students that his leg fell off if they accidentally step on it or a gurney rolls over it.

give me robby stealing and hiding jack’s leg while he’s napping in an on call room.

give me other staff not knowing about it and jack just casually takes it off and sets it on the hub counter.

give me robby sending jack that meme that’s like “10/10 handsome, 1/2 legs.”

i NEED it—

[cressidascowper]

#BOOK 📖 #BATH 🛁 #BED 🛌🏻

THE PITT S02E14 8:00 P.M.

[dearose]

i’m completely normal about that man btw

[da-pitt]

[zivistardust]

I love them

[bitters-n-sweets]

ask me again — jack abbot x fem!reader When Jack casually asks you to marry him, it sparks a conversation that you both haven’t had.

warnings: reader doesn’t want kids, reader was married before, jack also don’t want kids, self indulgent, i would say fluff with a dust of angst a/n: this is for the readers who don’t want kids, because i’m seeing a lot of dad!jack content recently—THAT I ADORE—and though I love reading them, I don’t want kids myself soooo here we are masterlist

The room is dim, lit only by the yellowish light filtering through the blinds. Your chest is still rising and falling from the high you haven’t quite come down from yet. Jack’s hand rests lazily on your hip, thumb brushing the dip of your waist like he can’t bring himself to stop touching you, even after some of the most intense sex you’ve ever had.

You roll your head to the side, watching him as he watches you.

He’s staring at you, slightly smiling. Not in a creepy way, not even in that smug way he gets sometimes after he's made you fall apart beneath him. This is different. Like he’s adoring you. Like he’s grateful for you. Like he’s trying to memorize how you look right now, make sure he won’t ever forget.

“Marry me.”

It’s not dramatic. Not a grand declaration. It sounds like he’s talking to himself more than you, like it slipped out without much thought.

You slowly push yourself up, resting on your elbows, looking at him. “What?”

He blinks like he didn’t realize he said it. “I mean it.”

“Jack…”

“I’m not saying we need to run off tonight or book a chapel in Vegas or something,” he says gently, following your posture. “I just… I’ve thought about it. About us.”

You don't respond. His words settling into your chest like the Titanic—sinking. Drowning. You’re naked but feel bare, vulnerable in every sense of the word. You lay back down, grabbing the edge of the blanket and pulling it over your chest.

Jack watches your silence. He doesn’t know what it means, but it sure damn feels like a rejection. Marriage was not something you talked about yet—and now he’s cursing himself for bringing it up like this, at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way.

You’ve turned your back to him, pretending to sleep. But he knows you’re still awake by the way your body shifts, the way your breaths stutter every now and then.

So he plays your game, pretends to sleep, pretends he doesn’t want to hold you the way he always does before bed.

Jack wakes up a few hours after that. He feels your side of the bed is cold and his mind assumes the worst: You left. He feels a twinge in his chest and tries to swallow it away, but then he smells coffee. He gets up, reaches for his crutches, and limps into the kitchen—where he finds you standing against the counter, wearing his shirt, holding a mug.

Relief washes over him. You didn’t leave after all.

You glance up and offer a small smile, already pouring him a cup. “You want coffee?”

Jack walks over to you. He puts his crutches down and reaches out for you. If it were any other day, he’d crush you in a hug with no hesitation, but now he fears he might scare you away.

You feel his touch on your shoulder and look back, putting his mug down and embracing him, letting him lean his weight on you.

“I’m sorry.” You say, as if knowing his thoughts.

“I thought you left.” He whispers.

You break away from the hug and search for his eyes. “I’d never leave you, Jack. I just… I needed a second. To think.”

He nods in understanding. “You wanna talk?”

You nod back, giving his coffee mug and then sitting on the counter. You take a deep breath. “You know I was married before, right?”

Jack nods.

“It wasn’t good. I’ve said that before. But... the part I never really admitted is that it wasn’t just him. I wasn’t a great wife, either. I didn’t have dinner waiting every night, I barely made it home most days. I lived at the hospital. And I—I don’t want kids.”

You look up, expecting to see some flicker of concern, hesitation—something.

But Jack just watches you calmly.

“I know,” Jack says, stepping closer. Close enough that he’s between your knees, hands resting lightly on your thighs.

Your throat tightens. “You know?”

“You told me once,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Early on. We were talking about long shifts, and you said you couldn’t imagine adding a baby on top of that. I remembered.”

You blink, stunned. You hadn’t even remembered saying that.

“And for what it’s worth...” Jack says, “With my age and everything I’ve seen… no, I don’t want kids. The world has enough people in it. Having a child… couldn't guarantee it will make anything better.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “So you’re okay with not having the white-picket-fence life? Even if it was with someone you loved?”

“I am with someone I love,” he says. “And no—I’ll take a shitty apartment and the chaos of hospital life if it means I get to come home to you.”

You laugh, and it sounds a little like relief.

Jack leans in again, arms wrapping around you. His voice is quiet in your ear. “I meant it. I want to marry you. Maybe not now, we can plan for it, have any kind of wedding you want. Or not want. You can call me old-fashioned, but I really want to be able to call you my wife.”

You sniffle, trying not to cry.

“No pressure though.” He adds, and you laugh again.

You lean into his chest, the drowning feeling finally going away. “Ask me again,” you whisper. “Someday. When we’re both ready.”

“I will.” He kisses your temple.

[nocturnaluss]

His soft jawline and boba tea eyes here is giving me cuteness aggression.

[comatosebunny09-deactivated2026]

Reminder from Infold.

[kyo-yun]

Pretty Fish

[transgang-deactivated20201105]

you know even if a homeless person or a starving person is in that position because of their own "bad decisions" i don't care. it doesn't matter. no supposed financial misstep is enough to condemn someone to homelessness or poverty.

[sapphoandvanzetti]

Search and rescue teams do not ask if a hiker was properly equipped and prepared before they go out to look for them. EMTs do not ask if a driver checked their mirrors before they take them to the hospital. Lifeguards do not ask if a swimmer made a mistake by going into a riptide before they dive in after them. Judgement doesn't help anyone, including you, the person doing the judging. Just help people. Just shut the fuck up and help people.

[halibellecter]

Just shut the fuck up and help people.

[daysleftofsecondterm]

Shut the fuck up and help people the next 1,086 days

[fullcravings]

Cinnamon Roll Soft Sugar Cookies

[nitewrighter]

Literally every single Neuroscience guy I listen to on audiobooks and podcasts: Multitasking is a lie. You are not more efficient. You're just rapidly switching between tasks and doing all of them slower but your brain is tricking itself into thinking it's more efficient because you get a little dopamine reward when you activate the 'change task' neurons. And you're burning up way more glucose in the process, leaving you more tired with less done. STOP MULTITASKING. JUST DO ONE THING. PLEASE IT'S ONLY WORSENING YOUR ATTENTION SPAN. WE'RE BEGGING YOU, PLEA--

My ADHD: Don't listen to them, babydoll. You are sooooooo efficient and attractive. Whoop. You got an email. Whoop you got a text. Whoop you got a blog ask. WOW look at all the tabs open on this window. Do you even remember what they're all for? Better look through them and close the ones you're not using because you're soooo sexy and efficient. Whoop, email again.

[iz-star]

Nothing more, nothing less.

Based on some dialogues from the event.

Twitter

IG

[deepspacenova]

@starmocha

[saywhat-politics]

BREAKING: 21-year-old protester, Kaden Rummler, was shot point-blank in the face by ICE. he just spoke about how he’s blind for life and almost died:

“I will be blind for life. I have fractures in my skull that they can't fix. They pulled a piece of plastic the size of a nickel out of my eye. I had shards of metal, glass, and plastic behind my eye and in my skull. They said it was a miracle I survived.”

What the hell is wrong with these people?

GoFundMe for Kaden Rummler, the young trans man blinded by ICE agents this week.

Fundraiser for K R by Sarah Gallimore : Help ICE Protestor After being shot by Feds

[zaynezone]

They’re sick for this