#Doctor Gross

[inbarfink]

Original post by @bedupolker

[vampireopossum]

immortal and mechanical old ladies who are going to kill you for science reasons and then be lesbians about it with each other

[lonelyzarquon]

[stevenrogered]

Ncuti Gatwa & Jonathan Groff DOCTOR WHO

[dykepaldi]

no i take it for granted at this point but it genuinely is so nice that 13 was the way that she was. just the exact same non binary freak as before. i remember in 2017 even seeing queer people on here being like ‘aw omg she’s gonna do xyz traditionally feminine thing for the first time!!!1!’ no she’s not she’s going to eat soil. genuinely quite impressive that chibnall/the beeb got that right

[konigsblog]

tired, but thinkin' about doctor-könig jerking off to the pictures he takes during your appointment. 💉🩺

cw; perv-könig, creep-könig. 18+

if you knew what könig was actually doing with these photos, you'd never come back to him. you'd report him for being so perverted and would make sure he loses his job. that's why he has to lie about what he does with the pictures he's taken.

könig claims that he's taking photos for any medical students. although, behind closed doors, könig is being filthy and deranged. he jerks off, leaning back in his office chair, taking deep breaths at the perfect sight. he guides his calloused, scarred hand up his aching, veiny shaft slowly and twists his hand to tighten his grip. he fists his lengthy cock while biting his bottom lip to suppress the guttural, pleased noises coming from deep within him. he rolls his eyes to the back of his head and growls out needily, rolling his thumb over the head of his weeping dick.

in the video, könig can be seen caressing your slick, soft cunt with his gloved thumb. his breathing is audible in the background, heavy and laborious while you're laid down and presented to him. knowing that you're unaware of what devious things he's doing to your photos made it all the more enjoyable for könig, his swollen cock twitching in his tight grip.

god, könig fantasies about fucking you. what would you feel like? your velvety walls pulsing around him, taking him all the way down to the base of his meaty dick. what would you taste like? would you come all over his tongue, chanting his name like a prayer?

of course, könig doesn't bother sharing these photos. although, he makes sure to ask for your consent to take a photo every appointment, in different positions, your tits and your drooling cunt.

[wwillywonka]

THIS IS KILLING ME. THE COMEDIC TIMING. THE WAY HE JUST STAYS IN THE BACKGROUND RUBBING HIS HANDS TOGETHER. EW!!!

[fanaticsnail]

Don't you dare move, Captain

Hey Doc Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,900+

Synopsis: You dismiss your captain from duty to behave as your personal assistant as a form of punishment. While working, you finally notice something on the tip of his nose that you need to help him with

Themes: Platonic!Kid x gn!reader, softness, little bit of flirting, swearing, medical practice, patient x doctor, pimple popping, skin care, platonic kisses, reader is referred to as "Doc" - the doctor of the Kid Pirates

Notes: Something little to get me out of the writings block slump. These pirates need a good skincare regime for the amount of war-paint they wear.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Hey Doc, this one of the good ones?” the gruff voice of your captain called over to you without moving his head. Glancing over your shoulder, you witness his raised hand hovering over his shoulder. 

Looking at the white and cream cloth material, you notice the fray of the woven bandage was not as intense as the others and softly sigh. 

“You know, Cap,” you mumble beneath your breath, turning back to face your desk and sorting through your surgical equipment, “If I have to baby you each time you pick up a bandage and tell you whether it’s good to use, or we should chuck it, I’m gonna fly into a fucking rage.” Your captain Eustass Kid cackled at you, placing it into the discard pile and picking up another. 

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point, you know?” he muttered beneath his breath, furrowing his brows and concentrating on sifting through the supplies. “This is fucking boring, and I should be doing other shit. Remind me why I’m doing this again?” 

Pushing back your rotating desk chair, you swooshed through your office space and slammed the back of the chair against the wall in front of your captain, while remaining seated on the plush surface. Glaring down into his bowed head, he avoided your gaze with a soft grimace on his features to hide his sheepishness.

“Because I caught you with a needle in your hand, ball bearings flying through the air, and hovering dangerously close to Heat’s belly button as if to pierce it. We’ve spoken about it, you said you’d stop, and you fucking didn’t,” you chastise him, prompting him to further recoil from your fury. “So I dismissed you from your duties as captain, as is my prerogative as doctor on board, and you are to remain with me until I decide you’ve learnt your lesson.” 

He grumbled beneath his breath, mimicking your voice in a mocking tone back at you, and bobbing his head from side to side. Red flashed over your features, prompting you to reach down and harshly collect his chin beneath your grip and raise his face to meet with yours. Kid looked up at you in surprise at your intensity while expecting to be met with a violent glint in your eye, and lips curled into a snarl. 

In lieu of finding such an expression, he found your gaze unexpectedly perplexing. Eyes wide and partially glazed over, you held your gaze intensely against the pointed tip of his nose as a sick, sadistic grin spread across your lips. 

While still holding his chin in your grip, you blindly reached down and sought out a pair of latex rubber gloves, a gauze pack, a padded plaster, and a pair of tweezers from your left breast pocket. He darted his eyes between yours, shocked as you slid off your chair and straddled his lap, pushing him down onto his back and sitting comfortably on his stomach.

“Don’t you dare move, Captain,” you warned him, your voice low and intense. He gulped, sweat beginning to pool at his temple as he continued to study your face. Your eyes bore into his nose, the sickening snap of your gloves meeting your wrist causing his mind to flood with every possibility. 

“What are you-?” he began, halting as you bully his chest to lie flat down on his back with your elbow and forearm. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ move,” you growl down into him, pushing all your weight against his chest and pinning him beneath your thighs. Your hands draw up to splay over his cheeks as your thumbs anchor against his nose. “It’s ready.” 

“Oi, what’s ready? What’s ready?” he frantically panted, attempting to scramble back with his right arm pawing at his side. Raising your left leg, you stamped down on his right wrist and pinned him in place. 

“I told you all at the last place to use the goat-milk oat soap to wash your face with, especially after donning the paints and tints you all wear,” you whispered through your teeth, grinning down at him, “Or your pores get compacted and clogged, resulting in that fuckin' thing.” You pointed with your chin towards his nose, prompting him to cross his eyes in search of the object. 

Sure enough, the large compacted head of a blocked pore was swollen in a vibrant red surrounding the dark tip. The throbbing of pus beneath the surface of the welt pulsated and filled his face with a hot, achy swell. 

Kid gulped, looking from the tip of his nose up to meet with your dangerous gaze. Glaring at him, you deepened your lunge and bore yourself down on him with a deep scowl to scold him with. He couldn't move, feeling pinned and helpless against your body as you place your palms on either side of his cheeks. 

“I'm gonna pop it,” you whisper menacingly down at him, “And then I'm gonna wash your damn face.” Your captain did nothing to move, frozen in his place as you placed your glove-donned thumbs on either side of his nose. 

“Wire is the only one who listens to me about skincare,” you whispered, testing out the taut skin with a soft press of your thumbs, “And look at him. Man’s in his forties, and he's gorgeous.” Kid frowned at your comment and winced at your pinch. 

“Got a thing for the big, stoic guy, huh?” he growled out as you pressed harder against his nose, “Oi, this fuckin’ hurts. Let up a bit, would ya?” You glare at him and push your thumbs closer together as the dark tip to the welt begins to protrude from the red mound. 

“I don't have a thing for any of you lot, Cap,” you glare at him, moving the gauze to collect the small amount of puss that spilled from his nose, “You're being a baby. You've had your arm blown off, your face scarred and maimed. This is nothing.” 

You continued pressing, being as gentle as you could while extracting the blocked pore from his flesh. With one final press, it all came out with a ‘pop’ and a rapid spill from the welt. He groaned as you cleaned him up with gauze and cotton tips. 

“There now. Was that so bad?” you coo down at him with a mocking tone. He grumbled something inaudible beneath his breath and poured at you. Continuing to clean up the small amount of blood seeping from the oozing sore, he studied your face knit in concentration. 

Darting his eyes between yours before sparing a glance to how quickly you managed to pin him, he pursed his painted lips on deep thought. 

“Go lay down on the cot, and put your head on the pillow,” you order him, finally releasing him from your pin and raising to your feet. He laid there for a few moments and glaring at you as you began to gather a few items and placed them beside the bench. Washing your hands thoroughly at the sink, you wipe them on some paper towel before discarding them in your waste bin. 

Rising to his feet, he followed your order and laid flat on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Moving your rotating chair behind the cot, you cranked the side a few times to extend the height to hover over him. He scowled at you before his eyes widened in curiosity. 

Rotating a whisking brush in a small bowl, frothy suds appeared. You gathered the lather and began to roll it in your four fingers against one another. 

Kid remained silent, hypnotized by your motions as you drew your hands down to his cheeks and rubbing firmly against his face. He attempted to initially fight the hands that sought to tame him, but gave into the touch as you smoothed over his flesh with your skilled fingers. 

Removing the rent tint from his lips and dark paint over his eyes, his eyelashes met as he clamped them tightly shut to avoid the sting of soap. A hot, damp towel stroked at his skin, prompting him to release a lengthy sigh at the warmth. You hummed down at him as he gave into the touch. 

His shoulders relaxed their tension against the cot, his belly deflating as his back melted into the firm mattress. Captain Eutass Kid was putty beneath your hands, a small ghost of a smile rising over his lips the longer you dabbed at him. Cleansing his skin of the painted smears first, you spent time being as gentle as you could over the healing welt on the tip of his nose. 

Wiping away the crust of amber-tinged plasma, you applied a small amount of cream and antiseptic to the crater on his nose. Finding a small, star-shaped patch, you opened it and placed it over the small wound. His eyes opened as he gazed his wide eyes up to meet with your concentrated expression. 

“There,” you hum with a soft cock of your head. Taking a moment to yourself, you hesitate before leaning down and pressing your lips softly to the small spot over his nose. Pulling away, you narrow your eyes and tease down at him, “Was that so bad? All you have to do is wash your face every now and again and you won't-.”

“-The hell d’you kiss me for?!” your captain barked at you, immediately springing up in his seat and glaring down at your position at the head of the cot. You rolled your eyes at him and began packing up for equipment in a neat pile before turning away towards the sink. 

“Sorry, sir,” you abrasively apologized over your shoulder, “Forgot that wasn’t in your care plan.” He huffed behind you before jumping off the cot and stomping over towards you. Gently shoving your shoulder with his right arm, he turned you to face him. 

“What do you mean ‘your care plan,’ huh?” he spat angrily down at you, “Who’s care plan is it in? How long have you been giving them away? Why the hell isn’t it in mine?” You scoff at him while leaning your hips back on the sink behind you. 

“One: I have a file for different treatment preferences, and some of those preferences involve hugs and kisses. Two: Doctor-patient confidentiality.” You fold your arms over your chest while arching your brow high at him, “Three: Since you hired me. And, Four,” you step away from the sink and hold your ground, “Do you want it to be?” 

His brow was deeply furrowed, his lips curled back to reveal a deep grimace as he puffed out his chest and stared you down. From your shorter stature, you managed to look down your nose at him with an unwavering intensity. A short quiver was depicted in his grimace before it was replaced with a soft pout. 

He rounded his eyes, hanging his head and slouching his shoulders. His forehead brushed with yours as he leaned down to slump against you, uttering a single word with a soft sniffle. 

“Yes.” 

Raising your hand, your arm wraps and cradle his neck and drawing him against your shoulder. He rubs his freshly cleansed head against the ball of your shoulder before nuzzling into your neck. You roll your eyes and gently soothe him by caressing his soft, red hair and holding him firmly in place. 

“I suppose you expect a pay rise with this, huh, Doc?” his muffled voice questioned you with a soft hint of malice in his tone. You shook your head and drew his right arm around your back before hooking your other hand over his neck to rejoin the one there.

“No, Cap,” you coo at him, gently rubbing his shoulders, “This I'll do for free.”

[moki-dokie]

furries would not be where they are today if not for dragoneer. even before he created FA, he was carving out spaces where the tiny niche that were furries could feel safe and have fun. one dude. you can trace practically every modern furry community back to one individual guy and the relentless work he did. given how tied to the lgbt+ community furries have become, i sincerely hope his name is one that becomes immortalized in queer history. what a fucking legacy.

[clonerightsagenda]

If you take Ling's blood sugar crashes seriously from a medical perspective and rule out medications I'm not sure existed yet and major organ failure, my best guess at a diagnosis would be an insulinoma, a usually benign pancreatic tumor that overproduces insulin and messed up your levels. Thus I propose the reason he stopped passing out partway through the story is that Greed went "hey what the fuck is this" and ripped it out.

[lookmomitsmytmblr]

It seems like we're expected to not ship Donna and the Doctor because they are individually complex and interesting characters.

Throughout their time together, their interactions are built upon giving deeper insight on who they both are individually, rather than extensive shipping fodder or teasing about the nature of their relationship.

Donna doesn't save the Doctor at the end of The Runaway Bride because she was the only person in the world who could have. She saves him because that's who she is. She is kind, and compassionate, and empathetic, and there's no way she would have left him there.

It's not so much a grand commentary on the nature of their relationship, and how they are 'just so cosmically meant to be', as it is a moment for her to show us (the audience) who she is.

It's not because he already has some kind of undying love for her, he never would have listened to anyone else, or because he's willing to live only for her, or any of that.

It's that she's the kind of person who reaches out and cares even after a really rough day, when the spaceman is scaring her by drowning spider babies.

The moment is about who she is.

And they keep being allowed to be like this, where their interactions aren't relegated to being only about their relationship with each other. If anything the way they interact with each other is used like a launching point to deepen our connection to each character individually.

(Probably because we're not supposed to ship them lol. Okay definitely.)

I have to come back and elaborate on this with further specific Doctor/Donna when I get the braincell back from Bora Bora, but basically:

I love a fictional relationship where the writing is focused on deepening my understanding of and affection for each character individually, and then letting me come to the conclusion, based on an intimate understanding of each character's deepest convictions, insecurities, fears, and values that I want these two to be together.

The thing is, there is a wealth of writing out there that spends all of the character's screen time telling you to ship the characters, all too often at the expense of our investment in the characters as whole people outside of that relationship.

In my tastes, it is far more compelling and satisfying have the chance to fall in love with both characters individually without the writer feeling the need to bathe every moment of interaction in big flashing signs telling me: THEYRE EVERYTHING TO EACH OTHER!!! GET IT? LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE MATTERS!!!

It's so literary to me. Pride and Prejudice isn't iconic because Lizzy and Darcy spend every moment together, talking about each other, pontificating on the nature of their relationship and why a hypothetical reader should totally ship them.

They actually don't have a lot screen time (or page time) together.

It's iconic because we get to see who both characters are, what they value, how their failures affect them, why we should love them both.

And for the majority of readers, loving them both is enough to convince us to love them together. Why? Because we know them well enough to know they will be good together.

[digenerate-trash]

thinking about yan Harper stuffing you with eggs to keep you in the asylum (and closer to him) and doing regular checkups on your progress

Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry

tw oviposition | tw ovi | tw malpractice | tw aphrodisiacs | tw dubcon AMAB Harper <3 | AFAB GN PC

It's been 10 weeks of isolation. No other doctors have seen you. You eat meals alone in your room. On days when Harper can't see you, you get a little restless. He's your only contact after all. 

The meals he gives to you are measured out. Everything is very orderly including the shots and meds he gives you. You don't even know why you're here really something about stress? You're not sure it's been too long and it's not like Harper talks to you about it. 

Instead, he likes to chat with you. He asks about your day and no matter how miserable your answers he nods along and smiles and gives you compliments and tells you sweet things. It's like talking to a very affectionate wall. His touch is warm even though gloved hands and he's always gentle, even during the first couple of weeks when you resisted so much. 

But today is different. Harper holds some equipment this time. Something a bit more complicated than a needle and a bottle of pills. He sets up the items on the table beside you as he begins his usual drabble. "How are you" "How are you feeling?" "Any side effects?" 

You know he's not paying attention to gage answers so you just respond with basic answers that he won't be adverse to. Like a practiced dance that means nothing. 

It's all a bit different though when he places down a jar. It's sterile with a little label on it. Inside sit six golf ball-sized orbs tinted pinkish. They seem to squirm with their weight suspended in the jar's liquid. 

"....what's that?" You ask. They make you uncomfortable a bit as Harper seems to snap out of his haze and focus on you again. 

"These are eggs- they're interesting, right? They're going to be a part of your treatment today-" Harper smiles wide his fingers tracing the outline of the jar before he prepares another needle with the dreaded pink liquid. You are eager to stall. 

".... like to eat?" You ask again and harpers hands seze a bit putting the needle down. He forces a laugh but he's a bit disturbed 

"No- not to eat. You're going to incubate them- you're going to be their parent-" 

Now it's your turn to be disturbed. You move away from Harper and the little jar of eggs quickly not wanting to be any closer to them but Harper grabs your leg pulling you back. You don't even see the needle until it's sticking out of your thigh you only have a few moments of clarity before the haze sets in. 

He pulls you back over carefully lifting your paintent gown and showing off your lower half. You've been in this position before as Harper spreads your legs and starts to toy with you. 

The slick cactus his fingers dripping onto the sheets under you. You know this feeling is only because of the needle Harper has shoved in your veins but it still feels good as his gloved hands play with you. Spreading you open. You sigh and shutter when Harper removes his hands from you.

You stare up at the ceiling still placid a little smile on your face as you look up and enjoy yourself. Your doctor knows how to take care of you... 

That is until something presses against your entrance. It's cold silly and it makes you squirm. Harper seems happy when it finally pops in. Your body shutters with arousal this time and it doesn't feel as pure or nice as when it was just Harper. 

You squirm to get away when you feel another one being pressed up against you but Harper holds your hips down and when it pops in this time he coos and praises you for doing a good job... you like it when you do a good job... you like being good for Harper. So you relax again. A third gets inserted into you. You can feel the little lineup of eggs in your body. You're full now. but Harper presses the fourth up against you anyway. This time it hurts. Until you feel it press in. One of the eggs is deeper inside of you than it should be. And Harper seems proud as he rubs your stomach a bit. 

This process continues until he's shoved every one of the eggs into your body. And then deeper until they all rest in your womb. Every time it seemed like you were getting a little too excited he'd take a break. Making sure you calmed down before he continued. When he finished Your stomach felt heavy. A little bloated even but Harper doesn't seem to mind as he rubs his hands through the slick substance around your hole and thighs. He thinks you look perfect and he's practically drooling as he undoes his belt and presses his clean dick up between your thighs to coat it in the slimy substance. 

It's not long before he's inside you rutting against your body holding you down as he pants over you. 

"You're the perfect little test subject-" Harper pants out. You can only mewl as He holds your body closer to his. 

You can't help it this time when you get close. Harper isn't stopping either so when you cum around his cock you finally find some relief. Even with the heavy eggs inside you seem to squirm a bit. 

It's not long before Harper presses your hips to his and he climaxes as well holding you there. He's panting his glasses askew as he looks down at you. His professional facade is gone and all that's left is a madman. 

Harper pulls away from you trying to compose himself. As best he can. The haze still clouds your mind as he packs up his equipment and the now empty jar. 

"Same time tomorrow-" he insists before he heads to the door "Be well." 

[tea-earl-grey]

really thinking about how Janeway becomes so obsessive and insistent about proving that Seven can be human and should become an individual because the same time Seven comes onboard, Janeway is rapidly losing her individuality because she has to be Captain and can't afford to be an individual anymore. she thinks that individuality and humanity is the ultimate goal because she constantly feels like she's on the precipice of losing her humanity.

(compared with her mentorship of Harry and putting expectations and pressure on him because she sees herself in Harry and she expects him to make the same sacrifice of self when necessary because that's what the Noble Starfleet Officer should do.)

[chapwiththewingsthere]

initial dot and bubble reaction

[ins3rtmandelahere]

For the first time in a very long time, a digital horror has made me genuinely uncomfortable.

This is the boiled one. I hate him so much. But Doctor Nowhere is a phenomenal horror artist and I suggest you check them out!!

[opbackgrounds]

These zombies might not be zombies in the traditional sense, but I'd still make sure my shots were up to date nonetheless