#DR Tech

[jacksabbotts]

introducing . . . MORGUE TECH!READER . ᵒ . 🥼 🩺 🩻

you ( morgue tech!reader ) are a shy, soft-spoken, and far too good for the world you work in—but dr. jack abbot wants you anyway. wants you especially because of it. he’s older, bigger, rough around the edges, and completely undone by the way you squirms in his lap and stumbles over your words.

you never had anyone take their time with you—never been praised, teased, or touched the way he plans to. and when he finds out just how untouched you really are?

he makes it his mission to teach you everything you didn’t know you needed.

this is not just a series — this is a world. this is out of body experience for morgue girl ( and the reader ). this is a life-altering. this is a soft cinematic universe built from spilt coffee, sterile fluorescents, and jack abbot's absurdly soft hands wrapped around someone who didn't think anyone would take care to notice. this is GOOD GIRL CONFESSIONS .

CHAPTER ONE — NINE ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ completed ❪ 18.9k words ❫ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ follows the reluctant tension-filled evolution of jack abbott and a quiet, anxious morgue tech. it begins with exhaustion, mutual annoyance, and an unfortunate first impression. it ends ( temporarily ) in confessions, broken rules, and hands brushing too long by the trauma bay sink and a single earth shattering kiss.

⋆.˚ CHAPTER ONE .' cold and predictable ⋆.˚ CHAPTER TWO .' cold storage ⋆.˚ CHAPTER THREE .' a cold shoulder

⋆.˚ CHAPTER FOUR .' too cold to touch ⋆.˚ CHAPTER FIVE .' cold cut ⋆.˚ CHAPTER SIX .' caught in the cold

⋆.˚ CHAPTER SEVEN .' cold hands ⋆.˚ CHAPTER EIGHT .' left out in the cold ⋆.˚ CHAPTER NINE .' let in from the cold

CHAPTER TEN — NINETEEN ⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ongoing ❪ tbd words ❫ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ follows post-confession. you’ve admitted too much. jack’s heard too much. and yet neither of you knows what to do with the silence that follows. you keep pretending. he keeps showing up. the hospital keeps getting hottee

⋆.˚ CHAPTER TEN .' heat source ˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 001

⋆.˚ CHAPTER ELEVEN .' heat on contact ˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 002

⋆.˚ CHAPTER TWELEVE .' after the heat ⋆.˚ CHAPTER THIRTEEN .' heat in your hands ( coming soon )

⋆.˚ CHAPTER FOURTEEN .' the sound of heat ( coming soon ) ˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 003

⋆.˚ CHAPTER FIFTEEN .' heat flash ( coming soon ) ⋆.˚ CHAPTER SIXTEEN .' held in heat ( coming soon )

⋆.˚ CHAPTER SEVENTEEN .' heat bitten ( coming soon ) ˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 004

⋆.˚ CHAPTER EIGHTEEN .' heated words ( coming soon ) ˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 005

⋆.˚ CHAPTER NINETEEN .' heat of the moment ( coming soon ) ˚₊‧ 𐙚 morgue notes - 006

˚₊‧ 𐙚 THE APPENDIX ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NIGHT SHIFT — MORGUE NOTES

˚₊‧ 𐙚 *part one ˚₊‧ 𐙚 part two ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *petnames from jack ˚₊‧ 𐙚 *petnames for jack

layout inspo ||| dividers by @cafekitsune & @uzmacchiato * ✷ ⊹ * ˚  main masterlist ||| more jack abbot ||| inbox

* ✷ ⊹ * ˚  want to join the morgue tech!reader taglist??? click here!!! REQUEST FOR jack abbot x morgue tech!reader

possible trigger warnings * ✷ ⊹ * ˚ lowercase intended!!!! medical trauma, mentions of death, hospital setting ( references to autopsies, corpses, injury, blood ), social anxiety, self-worth issues, body image insecurity ( specifically surrounding reader’s curvier body ), reader internalizes micro-aggressions and negative self-talk, emotional repression, low burn with eventual power imbalance ( not exploitative, but notable that jack is of higher rank but NOT reader's direct superior ), age gap dynamic, jack is gruff and emotionally avoidant at first ( but in his bf!era dw ), SMUT in later chapters ( pls read all content warnings posted at the beginning of each part )

[foxwithadarkside]

@techwrecker I don't know what exactly you wanted, but I did this. When you said about Milo and Tech, that's just the first image that popped into my mind. Atlantis x tbb: 1 2 3 4

[soon-palestine]

𝗨.𝗦. 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗧 𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗦 𝗧𝗘𝗖𝗛 𝗚𝗜𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗢 𝗔𝗕𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗦

Not guilty.

That's the verdict of a US federal appeals court in a case involving five tech companies accused of benefitting from child labour in Congolese mines. On 5th March, 2024, the US Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia made a 3-0 decision in favour of (Google’s parent company) Alphabet, Microsoft, Dell, Tesla and Apple Inc. in a case filed by 16 former Congolese child miners and their guardians.

The plaintiffs accused the companies of "deliberately obscuring" their dependence on child labour, in effect abetting the exploitation of many children to ensure steady supplies of cobalt. Some of the complainants were the guardians of children who’d been killed in cobalt-mining operations.

The court ruled that buying cobalt in the global supply chain did not amount to "participation in a venture," and there was no proof that the tech giants had anything more than a buyer-seller relationship with suppliers or had the power to stop the use of child labour.

Cobalt is in high demand as competition for market leadership in Electric Vehicle sales kicks into high gear. Nearly two-thirds of the world's cobalt is mined in DR Congo. The country has 2-million artisanal miners working under horrible conditions, according to DelveDatabase, an online database. Four critical minerals - copper, nickel, cobalt and lithium - will generate $16 trillion in the next 25 years, according to the IMF.

DR Congo's vast wealth is the key reason for the country's long history of exploitation and conflict - from Belgian King Leopold II running the country as his private estate to Western tech firms churning out high-end goods using Congolese minerals.

Help raise awareness of the exploitation of Congolese children by sharing this video widely.

[casualevan]

Forgemaster Ivo Robotnik

Swapped out the tech pistol for the Power Fist and I think it was the right fit

[cutiepieautistic]

Tenna stimboard

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[rvllybllply2014]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Saadia Mirza (@saadia___m)

The people of DR Congo are now facing winter which means heavy rains along with the silent genocide. 7 million people have been displaced aka become refugees all because of big techs greed. Boycott new technology this Christmas/holiday season, please just keep using your old tech until you literally cant people’s lives are at stake.

[echobsilly]

god help us all

[the-bi-space-ace]

This is a real and very serious question that I need the answer to

What is your favorite clone’s soda (diet or regular) of choice? no soda is also a good answer I just want to hear your thoughts

[thirteenpassingby]

Day 16

How I wish they could have a moment of genuine softness 💜💛

[greyhoundone]

[jacksabbotts]

. ᵒ .༄ JACK ABBOT x MORGUE TECH!READER CONCEPTS !  ࿔* ·˚ ༘ ┊͙ # 🥼 possible trigger warnings .' nothing  ‧ 💉 ‧ ━━ WC 1.7k

series masterlist || inbox ━━━ * ✷ ⊹ * ˚ ✷ dividers by @cafekitsune and @uzmacchiato !!!

JOIN THE JACKSABBOTTS 1K EXTRAVAGANZA HERE or REQUEST FOR jack abbot x morgue tech!reader

⤷ ✵ ✧ . · * . · .  A CARDIAC EVENT || requested!!! ( @becks-things )

jack rubbed the back of his neck, shifting his weight from foot to foot in the dim hospital stairwell where you’d cornered him after your shift.

'so, listen.' his voice was casual. too casual. like he hadn’t spent the last three hours debating this exact conversation in his head. 'about that first date.'

your stomach dropped to your toes. 'i figured we’ve got two options.' he held up two fingers, ticking them off one by one. 'option one : i take you to some overpriced restaurant where we both spend the night pretending we aren’t counting the seconds until we can leave.'

you blinked at him.

'option two,' he continued, lowering his voice just a little, 'you come over to my place. i cook—yes, i cook, don’t give me that face—and we eat in peace without strangers breathing on us. just you, me, and an aggressively judgmental cat i’m cat-sitting for a friend.'

your brain short-circuited. jack cooking for you. in his home. where it’s just the two of you. alone.

and a cat, apparently. the thought of a crowded restaurant made your skin crawl. but being alone with jack abbot? the man who made your heart trip over itself just by looking at you sideways?

absolute danger zone.

you must’ve hesitated too long, because jack’s cocky grin softened. 'hey.' he tipped his head, meeting your eyes. 'it’s your call, morgue girl. no pressure. you wanna do the whole out-in-public thing, i’ll suffer through it with you. but…' his smile turned lopsided. 'if it makes it easier, i wouldn’t mind keeping you all to myself for a night.'

your face caught fire.

you barely squeaked out your answer. 'your place… sounds nice.' jack’s grin went nuclear. 'good. i’ll make pasta. don’t wear scrubs.' he winked and left you utterly destroyed in the stairwell.

jack insisted on picking you up.

which already had your nerves in cardiac arrest. because no one—not even the dead bodies in your morgue—knew where you lived. you liked it that way. quiet, isolated, yours.

but jack abbot didn’t ask. he just texted 'pick you up at six. don’t argue. i know where you work.'

romantic, really.

by 6:07, you were pacing your living room in a black dress you weren’t sure fit right, overthinking everything from your hair to your shoes to whether this was a mistake.

and then he was there.

leaning against your doorframe like a damn romance novel cover, all crooked grin and rolled sleeves, tie stuffed in his pocket, as if your nerves weren’t already shot.

'hey, sweetheart.' his voice was rough, lazy, and way too fond. 'you clean up alright.'

you just stared. 'oh, c’mon, don’t give me that deer-in-the-headlights look. it’s me.' he grinned wider, somehow softer. 'not some random guy.'

'mmhm.' you muttered it, but the burn in your cheeks gave you away. he laughed. loud and warm and real.

and then—god help you—he offered his arm. like some kind of gentleman. like some kind of idiot. like some kind of perfect disaster.

you were going to die here.

not because jack was going to kill you—though, honestly, the cardiac event happening in your chest said otherwise. but because you were standing in his kitchen. alone with him. watching him stir a pot of sauce like this was normal.

it wasn’t normal.

nothing about jack abbot in white henley sleeves pushed up to his elbows, reading glasses perched on his nose while steam fogged the air was normal.

you hesitated, heart stuttering. but you took it. you weren’t sure what was worse : the fact that you said yes, or the fact that now you were standing in jack abbot’s kitchen alone with jack abbot.

his kitchen was unfairly nice. not fancy—no, jack wasn’t the type for marble countertops and glass backsplash—but warm, worn, lived in. dark wood cabinets, scratched up cutting boards, a battered le creuset pot bubbling quietly on the stove.

and jack—god help you—jack was barefoot. ( mind the socks that covered his feet. )

dark gray wash jeans slung low on his hips, trauma scarred hands moving like he did this every night. like he hadn’t just single-handedly triggered the most catastrophic anxiety spiral of your entire adult life.

you hovered awkwardly near the counter, clutching a glass of water like it was your only defense against spontaneous combustion.

a human error 404 screen.

'relax, sweetheart,' Jack said without looking at you, stirring the sauce one-handed and tossing a grin over his shoulder. 'you look like you’re about to bolt for the elevator.'

'i—no, i’m fine.' you squeaked. liar. blatant, shaking, sweaty-palmed liar. jack shot you a knowing grin over his shoulder. 'uh huh. that why you’re standing six feet away like i’m gonna bite?'

your face went nuclear. 'i didn’t wanna… get in your way,' you mumbled, tracing the rim of your glass with your thumb. jack laughed, warm and easy, shaking his head.

'sweetheart, you’re not in my way. c’mere.'

your brain froze.

'it’s just pasta.' he whispered.

before you could stop yourself, you were standing beside him, watching the sauce bubble in the pan. his shoulder brushed yours, casual and devastating.

'see? not so bad.' he nudged you gently. 'now grab those plates, would ya? i know your hands work—unless you’ve been faking that whole morgue tech gig.'

ha.

ha ha.

funny.

you rolled your eyes, smile slipping out before you could stop it. he saw it. of course he did. and god, the way he looked at you then—soft and sharp all at once—nearly sent you straight to the floor.

if your heart beat any harder, you’d need his er badge number. you fidgeted with the hem of your oversized cardigan, debating whether to sit, stand, or spontaneously combust.

why did i wear this? do i look weird? should i take it off? no, leaving it on is safe. he probably thinks i’m awkward. i am awkward. maybe i should go home. but the pasta smells good. i like pasta. this was a mistake—

jack glanced over again, brow cocked, amused. 'you’re thinkin’ so hard i can hear the gears grinding.' you flushed hot. 'i’m not—thinking. i mean, i am, but not like that. i just…' you trailed off, wanting to die.

jack chuckled, turning back to the stove. 'you’re kinda hot when you ramble.'

you. nearly. passed. out.

the cat—some enormous, judgy tabby—leapt onto the counter, stared directly into your soul, and hissed. 'yeah, yeah, keep your opinions to yourself,' jack muttered at the cat, shooing it off with a lazy wave. 'don’t mind him. he hates me, too.'

you cracked the tiniest smile. jack caught it. and grinned like he’d won the lottery. your brain promptly blue-screened. jack smirked, all warm and insufferable and way too pleased with himself.

'c’mon, sweetheart,' he said, nodding toward the kitchen table where he’d already set out two plates. 'dinner’s ready.' you followed him.

still shaking. still overthinking. still so far gone for him it was embarrassing.

and god help you, it was only the first date.

the food was good. the conversation got easier. somehow, between bites of pasta and sarcastic banter, your nerves settled ( only slightly ).

but then dinner ended and you found yourself alone with him on the couch, legs tucked beneath you, heart thudding painfully loud in the quiet of his apartment.

jack sat beside you, arm draped casually along the back of the couch. not touching you ( hadn't even made a move to do so ). 'penny for your thoughts?' he asked, voice low, rough with something you didn’t dare name.

you blinked at him. 'just… wondering when the other shoe’s gonna drop,' you whispered before you could stop yourself. jack’s smile faded into something softer. something real.

'there’s no other shoe, sweetheart.'

and then, so quiet you barely caught it—'not with you.'

jack looked at you then—really looked at you. the glow of the kitchen lights caught the edges of your face : flushed cheeks, wide, startled eyes, lips parted like you couldn’t quite catch your breath.

and suddenly, the world tilted.

because all night, he’d wanted to kiss you. had planned to kiss you, if he was being honest with himself. just one kiss. nothing too wild. nothing particularly reckless. just. you and him and finally closing this thing between you.

but now, watching your fingers twist nervously in the hem of your dress, your chest rising too fast, your whole body wound so damn tight—

jack froze.

he lifted a hand to your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone. gentle and careful. like he was touching a live wire. your breath hitched. your eyes dropped.

and there it was—fear. not of him, not really, but of the moment. of the vulnerability. of what came next. he was going to kiss you anyway. his chest ached to.

but he stopped. he let out a slow breath, pressing his forehead against yours instead. 'sweetheart,' he whispered, soft as the night, 'you don’t have to do this just because i want it.'

your lips trembled. 'i do want it—'

'yeah?' he cut in gently. 'tell that to your pulse.'

you went still. jack smiled, slow and aching, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 'i’m not going anywhere,' he murmured. 'we can take this slow. hell, you set the pace. you wanna kiss me next week? month from now? that’s fine. i’ll wait.'

your throat clenched.

'but what if you get tired of waiting?' you whispered, voice barely audible. jack huffed a quiet laugh, resting his palm against your cheek, his thumb tracing your jaw.

'sweetheart,' he said, 'i’ve spent my whole life rushing headfirst into things that didn’t last. you’re the first thing i want to slow down for.'

and right there, in the quiet warmth of his apartment, with the pasta dishes still sitting in the sink and the weight of the whole day pressing on your shoulders, you realized—

jack abbot wasn’t rushing.

he was staying.

🔖  .   @princesssunderworld  @mayabbot  @imherefordeanandbones  @arigoldsblog  @oldmanbunnylover  @i-mushi  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @lovelexi717  @peggyofoz @qtmoonies  @nfwmb-gvf   @babybatreads  @cheekym8s  @bitteroceanlove  @spooky-librarian-ghost  @dr-yapper  @yutasgem  @keseqna  @gardeniarose13  @witchbitchlovesdilfs  @sotragedynut  @robbyrosierobinavitch  @anglophileforlife @flyinglama  @sillymuffintrashflap @letstryagaintomorrow @caterpillarskimono @maiamore @madzleigh01 @qardasngan @imightbeinsanebutwtv  @foolishseven @anxiousfuckupon  @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @blueliketheseaa  @justfaefaeee  @sweetdayme4427  @404creep  @yourdaydreamerfan  @ddrawers96  @m14mags   @twiddledeedumsworld  @jetless  @thedamnqueenofhell  @topnerd03  @abllor @loud-mouph @cannonindeez @nubecita040   @beebeechaos  @cwzham  @homebytheharbor  @painment  @namgification   @catmomstyles3 @livingavilaloca  @hello-lisa1026  @emma8895eb  @shadowfoxy @thesnugglingduck @britt217 @reignbooks8506 @kmc1989 @chuiisi  @Lumpypoll @generalstarlightobjest @dlljdhsh @misshoneypaper @Sabi127 @Coleground @sevenberry @Cherry_cosmos @idontcarenoughtonamethis @Sammiib444 

if your user is white instead of gray it means i was not able to tag you, i copy and pasted straight from the forms so that means there must be typo, feel free to resubmit a form ( linked below ) and i will update the taglist. this not all the people who have requested to be tagged ( i am one person and i will get everyone on the list at some point. thank you !!!! * ✷ ⊹ * ˚  want to join the morgue tech!reader taglist??? click here!!!!

[retrostimz]

Mr. “Ant” Tenna Stimboard!

📺⭐️🎙️ | 📺⭐️🎙️ | 📺⭐️🎙️

[tlmtwelve]

@summer-of-bad-batch Post Credit Prompt: "You're drinking out of my favorite cup"

[puppiesareperfect]

It’s possible I’m biased as someone who’s working towards an education degree, but I genuinely think Doof’s redemption arc would’ve hit better post-series if they stuck with him being a science teacher. For one I genuinely enjoyed Doof101, it was nice to get a different setting for once. And Perry being his weird little teacher’s assistant who makes sure he doesn’t blow up the place was fun. But also like, one of Doofenshmirtz’s big character traits is being a dad. He is literally good with kids, albeit in a dorky sort of way. But a dorky personality is pretty much expected for science teachers. I could definitely see him getting a reputation as the teacher that’s “a little out there but really fun to have. also gives advice about things like college if you ask—he has some bit about going to evil school but other than that solid advice”

[ratcandy]

can’t stop thinking about one of the Dead Lands’ roaches getting into the hive while exploring Bugaria and getting noticed by a Certain Someone (Who’s Been Stealinf Their Shit For Years

[cutiepieautistic]

Regressor!Chiaki stimboard

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