#doctor who llama

[katiegangel]

A huge Thank You to Tenchi for being in this video!

[ingravinoveritas]

It's been brought to my attention that John Simm apparently played Ebenezer Scrooge in the production of A Christmas Carol that Michael went to see tonight and now I can't stop thinking about the two of them hanging out afterward and comparing notes about the benefits of being David's Master...

[beans3750]

Part 2 of me quote video 🕺🪩

[levi-llama]

Space, Time, and the Psyche (6)

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

Series Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Chapter Warnings: Blood and Gore, Illness

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist / Taglist

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

He went to grab my arm and help me up, but I hissed as soon as his skin touched mine. The light from the bioluminescent monster faded as it lay still, making the deep red that seeped through my sweater almost invisible. He pulled his hand away as if I burned him, and quickly looked at his hand. He couldn’t see the blood, but he could feel the wetness and that was enough.

“Oh, Eddie, you’re hurt.” He gasped, concerned etching his face and staring at his hand as if he was able to see through the dark. While he stared in a trance, I helped myself up with effort that made me pant. 

“I’ll be alright, let’s just find a way out of here.” I patted his forearm with the hand on my uninjured side and walked past him, investigating the area the spider had fallen. I start to fiddle with the rocks behind it. Feeling the rocks had loosened; I tried to push some out of the way. I was so exhausted, too exhausted to shift the stone. “Doctor, help me push these rocks, please. They seem to be loose.”

“Ah, yes, coming!” He snapped out of his stupor to come to my aid, and with minimal effort on his part, they loosened and scuttled down to the cave’s ground. The revealed tunnel was dark, the glowing of the spider’s algae not penetrating the blackness within. 

“It’s dark, but it’s our only way out of this cavern. After you, Doc.” 

He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and it emitted a light, barely, but enough to keep us from tripping. 

The tunnel was narrow and cramped; my injuries occasionally brushing against the ragged, dirty walls. The sting of fresh scabs being reopened made me wince. For a while we trekked, searching for any semblance of sunlight. As of yet, we couldn’t find any indication of a possible way out. As time went on, my eyes started to adjust more, but with that adjustment my temporal lobe became confused. The pure darkness made time feel slow and fast at the same time. I was so disoriented; I understood that it couldn’t have been more than a few hours, yet it also seemed like it’d been days of walking in that tight, claustrophobic cave system. 

The terrain became more uneven as we continued further, the walls closing in even more during certain parts. Half of my body felt as if it was on fire from the constant irritation my tripping and tumbling had caused to my already inflamed injuries. My body was mad at the external forces making the start of the healing process near impossible. The tingling burn became so harsh it made me feel faint. Soon, though, those jagged rocks became cooling, slick surfaces. Condensation crawling down the sides in fat drips. The cold water calmed my raw flesh and made me sigh in relief. 

“Do you feel that, Eddie?” The Doctor’s echo-y voice fell on deaf ears. “Eddie?” He raised his volume slightly. 

“Mm, huh? What was that?” The rumble of my voice resounded around my head. 

“Do you feel that water? It means we’re by a natural underground water source.” He said matter-a-fact, the exhaustion evident in his tone, though his attempt to sound hopeful was obvious. 

Sure enough, he was right, after about another half kilometer the cramped, claustrophobic cavern tunnel widened into a bigger cave. The murmur of running water was audible as we approached. 

“Alright, let’s rest here, yea?” He declared. Though the light was still minimal, there was a patch of dried roots growing out of the far wall. The Doctor plucked them from the stone and started a small fire near the river’s shore. “If there’s a river flowing, there must be an exit at the end of it. We should rest for the night, and continue along it tomorrow.” 

I sat next to the fire, leaning against a large stalactite that erected from the ground. I closed my eyes immediately, I was sweaty, clammy, and cold. Teeth clattering and body shivering as I willed myself to relax. 

“Are you alright, Eddie?” Sitting with a small grunt, he plopped down next to me and the fire.

I just sighed a ‘yes’ in response, too tired for much more. 

A gasp came from next to me, nearly startling me to attention. “No, you are not, Eddie! Look at yourself!” He shuffled to his knees, leaning over me, his hands hovered above my torn clothes and patchy, peeled skin. “Why didn’t you speak up sooner!?” He yelled - or rather, lecture, is a better term. 

“It was so dark, I didn’t realize how bad it was.” My tone came more snappy than I intended. I blamed my exhaustion. 

“Oh, Ed, my girl.” I felt his sigh in my bones. He had enough on his plate, trying to get us back to the tardis. I feel guilty for burdening him with something as trivial as my health. 

“It’s alright, I’ll be fine, Doc, don’t worry about me.” I mumbled, breathily. I started to fall asleep until the jarring pain of my road rash brought me back to alertness. I looked down with wide eyes, watching my worried companion pour water from his cupped hands, over my red, revealed tissue. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to be quick.” He whispered, eyelids drooping with something akin to melancholy. His hands worked fast, yet gentle as he tried to pick the flecks of rock, moss, and dirt from my wounds. “I wish I had some sort of disinfectant.” He whispered to himself in passing while focusing on helping me. “I did the best I could do with what we have right now. I apologize it’s not much.” He half-heartedly gave a smile, probably in hopes to reassure me, but at that point I was too worn out to think, nonetheless feel emotion. 

“Thank you.” I murmured as I fell asleep. Or so I assumed, since that was the last thing I remember happening that night. 

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

The next few hours consisted of barely waking in a blur. I'd open my eyes to the doctor over me, not being able to understand what was being said. Then the next moment I’d wake to the pitch black darkness of the caves. The only constant was the feeling of burning magma that bubbled under my skin. 

I wondered if I was dead; if the peaceful release from life I had been seeking for so long, was anything but. I thought this was hell. Maybe, in retrospect, I was being dramatic, but during the moment, I was too delirious to understand reality. 

A tapping to my cheek brought my consciousness back to the surface. The unfocused face of the doctor appeared in my limited field of vision. The darkness still shrouded most of the world around me, only the lingering coals of a dying fire next to me gave visibility to his dimly lit face. He leaned over me; his mouth forming words. I could hear the sounds of the consonants and vowels leaving him, but comprehension couldn’t form in my mind. 

My eyelids drooped with the weight of my tiredness dragging me back to the deep. Another few taps, sharper this time, tried to rouse me to no avail. I was just aware enough to feel a jolt and sudden weightlessness before the brazen molten metal I called my blood brought the blazing ache back. I then blacked out once again.

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

The jumbling I felt jolted me back to consciousness. I felt out of body, still overcome with pyretic delirium, however I was aware enough to notice I was carried as my companion traversed the rough terrain. Based on the lack of light, I felt it safe to assume we were still stuck underground. 

“Doc… tor?” I groaned breathlessly. The effort in which it took to speak seemed almost unworthy of my minimal remaining energy, yet I was confused, scared even. I had to know what was happening, and I didn’t know how much longer my lucidity would last. 

“You’re okay, I’m going to get us out of here.” His speech was frantic, obviously overwhelmed by the lasting surrounding darkness and the fading hope of escape. “I won’t let you get worse. We just have to get you to the tardis.”

I let out a soft grunt in understanding before my awareness started to slip, yet before my mind flew back into its fever induced sleep I overheard something I knew I wasn’t meant to hear.

“I can’t lose another one… not so soon.”

[howthebestwaslost-blog]

Ruby: DOCTOOOOR! THERE IS A DEAD HUMAN IN OUR HOUSE!!!

Doctor: Oh...hey...How did he get here?

Ruby: Doctoooor, what did you do?!

Doctor: Me? Uh, I didn't do this!

Ruby: Explain what happened, Doctor!

Doctor: I've never seen him before in my life!

Ruby: Why did you kill this person, Doctor?

Doctor: I do not kill people. That is...that is my least favorite thing to do.

Ruby: Tell me, Doctor, exactly what you were doing before I came home.

Doctor: Alright, well...I was upstairs...

Ruby: Okay...

Doctor: I was uh...l was sitting in my room...

Ruby: Yes?

Doctor: reading a book...

Ruby: Go on...

Doctor: And, uh, well this guy walked in...

Ruby: Okay...

Doctor: So, I went up to him...

Ruby: Yes...

Doctor: And I...l asked him to travel with me.

(Silence.)

Ruby: Doctooooooooor, that KILLS people!

[couldbegayer]

i truly feel like i have descended back into 2012 brain rot of dan and phil and doctor who. what has happened to me i am 30 in a few months lmao

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife #10 : Snack Time

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Momma bird hungry for all the snacks in the world. Takes some time and frustration before Joel figures out the exact kind of snack you really want.

Warnings: Pregnant reader, Angry!Joel, oral M!receiving, face fucking, throat bulge, throat-pie, dumbification, junk food binge, eating meat, bossy reader as always

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Joel didn’t know he married the Hungry Hungry Hippo, Galactus the planet devourer, Garfield the tabby cat.

You’re on your phone texting while cuddling Joel. He’s more interested in the movie than you are, but that doesn’t stop him from tracing his finger along your arm, occasionally kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his nose. He loves the scent of your shampoo after a wash, damp and cold against his warm chest. Sometimes you protest how closely he wants to cuddle you, all smushed up on the couch. Your body temp skyrocketed with the baby changing everything. But since he’s keep the AC on full blast, your warm heavy body keeps him from being a popsicle.

The landlines chimes in from the kitchen.

He rolls his eyes. Of course, something to interrupt the comfort that took 40 minutes for you to settle into. "I'll get it,” He grumbles quickly and hoists himself up off the couch. He wants to make whoever the fuck is calling at such a late hour a quick convo. If it’s fucking Tommy needing bailed out again, he thinks begrudgingly, I’ll just hang up on him. 

He clears his throat and answers: “Hello, Miller Residents.”

"Can you get me a bowl of Cap'n crunch while you're up?"

He glances back over at you sitting up on the couch, your cell to your ear as you wave at him. you point to your belly mouthing I T S  F O R  T H E  B A B Y.

It’s for the baby, my ass. You’ve been a hungry hungry hippo who’s been snacking like crazy and ignoring the doctor’s warnings. 

But cranky Momma is way worse than a scolding doctor. 

He grits his teeth and slams the receiver a little too hard down on the desk.

You can hear him shuffling around in the kitchen, a clash of a bowl on the counter  and the jingle of overly processed cereal filling it up. 

He walks back into the living room. You’ve taken up the whole couch now, with no inclination to move over to let him back on.

You shove a fist into the bowl and pop a bunch of the crunchy orange squares into your mouth “f’anks” you mumble, eyes not once making contact with him as you stare ahead and much away. Crumbs fall onto your chest and down to the floor and sofa, as if Joel hadn’t just cleaned all of it this morning.

.

The next night, Joel's cooking some steaks. You weren’t really a meat-crazed person, having maybe one or two helpings of poultry or occasionally red beef a week, but normally ,you could go without it for a few meals without thinking about it. 

Pregnant momma? She was a fucking carnivore. He had barely set the sizzling steak down before you snatch one onto your plate. He turns around to slice into one, checking its temp before serving, only to see it was a bit too red and bloodied on the inside.

"Oh babe I gotta cook these a little longer; they're too rare--"

You were hacking away and tearing a large chunks of the red, near pulsing meat, juices pouring out your lips, a vampire gorged on a fat blood sucking meal. Despite its tenderness, you chew endlessly and stare off into the table like a Llama enjoying its food on the field. 

"Maybe...we should—slow down a bit,” he suggests with uncertainty. His fork and knife frozen in midair, still in each hand. He hasn’t shifted view or blinked, but clear worry (and maybe a tad bit of fear) stretch across his face.

"Uighgrrfmggmmdeeofxsw,” you reply with gargled cow remains sloshing in your wide open trap. 

 “Right. That."

You swallow what’s left. Joel’s does a double take: your steak is somehow gone, juice licked clean off the plate in front of you.

“Can I have yours???"

He had only sliced 4 cuts  for himself so far. But the hungry look in your pupils, licking your lips while watching his dinner, it’s clear you’ve answered for him. He sadly sets his cutlery down and slides his plate to you. 

Its even more interesting when you douse it in salt and throw a slab of butter on top of it, watching it melt before slicing a big chunk off.

"You gotta watch the salt intake—“

“—Can you make chicken? I want chicken now.”

“N-no,” he shakes his head, whiplash from the conversation. Maybe you’ve gone def AND blind AND lost your taste buds. “I made steak. You've had 2 steaks now. Why do you need chicken?”

“That second one was for the baby. The chicken is for me.”

“What about the fist one?”

“….We split that.”

“Awfully hungry baby,” he says with a dead tone, straight faced as he eats the one roll left in the basket that hasn’t been devoured by you. 

“Well she’s yours, isn’t she?” 

-

You wipe your face with a napkin, a fried chicken leg and wing now securely packed tight in your tum tum along with the famished baby.

"What's for dessert?" You chime eagerly.

Joel turns to wash the dishes, hiding his smirk. He’s got you now, no surprise cravings will catch him short on this one: He boasts proudly, “I bought you apple pie--"

"I want cupcakes. Whip cream icing. Chocolate.”

His grin quickly deflates into a frown. “No.” He says sternly, a little aggravated. “I bought you pie—“

"Did I say I want pie? L I S T E N,” you snap, slapping your palms together with each syllable. 

He puts his foot down with tense sudsy hands going to his hips. “No. I'm not going out again.”

You raise your eyebrows threateningly. One look.

30 minutes later Joel is shuffling into the house with a pack of 12 cupcakes he bought at the bakery.

-

You’ve managed to prop yourself up on the couch after some heaving. “Ha! The baby is making me workout get strong! Obviously that’s why I’m so hungry.” You shrug it off. “Oh! I want raw cookie dough.”

Joel was on his phone the entire time, but the second you said I want, his brain queued in and he quickly retorts, “No.”

He goes back to replaying the voicemail he missed, settled and focused on the opposite couch.

Of course he Doesn't realize you’ve somehow lumbered up past him and now waddling back with 4 chunks of raw cookies in your hand, popping them in your mouth one at a time.

His eyes dark up to watch you, transfixed on the screen as you bend your knees, hardly paying attention to the way you’re about to fall on the couch. He has half the mind to help, but what’s one lesson you need to learn the hard way?

Regretfully, you bounce down successfully and pull your legs up.

And then, as you dust your hands off from the chocolate stains melted on your palms, Joel’s lips part in a o as you reach behind you and pulling an entire gallon container of animal crackers. 

"Babe"

"Wha?” You don’t turn around to look at him, still shoveling them into your mouth. “Yuu wan wan?"

"You need to stop eating every damn thing in the house.”

You gasp incredulously, your hand over your heart in painful offense. “The baby is very hungry! She's related to you and that belly.”

He only remembers to stop himself from reminding you that your belly is much bigger than his now. 

"The baby—“ (that was the new thing now: the baby  this baby that. The baby is why I need this shirt in blue and green. The baby is why I need the ice cream layered horizontally not stacked vertically. The baby —)

"No. Not the baby,” he snaps. “You."

You start to cry. "I thought I AM your baby!!!" 

He gives you a “seriously” look and you stop the fake tears.

“So how about it?”

“I don’t want you getting salmonella.”

“ugh fine. You can bake them I guess.”

He’s about to protest the idea of any dough going into your body, cooked or raw, but knows its going to be a lost cause.

Joel makes you a platter of Assorted cookies: chocolate chip, fudge, triple chocolate, sugar, and oatmeal raisin.

You clap your hands as he carefully places the little plate atop your bump. Humored by the custom “mini” table you’ve got going on now. Maybe his baby doesn’t like her head being used as a countertop, but with the way you close your eyes and moan after biting into the chocolate chip, babygirl must be pleased too.

He goes to the bathroom quickly and then comes back only to glare down at you. You've taken exactly one bite out of every single cookie, leaving crescent shapes for him to scathe.

Every cookie, except oatmeal raisin. You clearly did take a bite ,but spit it out and put the lump back near the undesirable #1 cookie.

“These mine?” Joel asks bemused.

You nod happily. You felt very proud to have enough control and leave him some this time! 

-

It’s about 9:30 pm. You're acting drunk and woozy even tho you're just a new level of tired and achy

"Woopppoooooo!!! Paaartttaaayyy!" You shout with fists in the air, drinking down a shot glass of sugar water. 

“Alright party Momma. It’s bedtime.” 

"Ppfffttt! No old man! Dont steal my fun.”

Joel stands over the couch, blocking your view from the TV, his hands on his hips. “You're being difficult "

“YoU’rE bEiNg DifFicUlT,” you mock and wave him off. "Oop I need to pee. Help me up.”

Joel” grabs both your grabby hands and hoists you up to your feet. “Now up the stairs, you.”

You waddle towards the stairwell, one hand cupping your lower back. Joel is right at your heel. you up at the treaturous journey ahead, all 8 steps to the top floor. Cracking your neck side to side, you wave your arms over to the handrail and begin: “Left foot. Right foot. Left. Fuck. Fuck stairs. Who invented stairs. Left foot…”

Joel’s so sleepy that he nearly falls forward. And he knows you would not take too kindly to him ramming his face into your ass as you battle your worst enemy.

Finally to the top, you scurry over like a penguin to the bathroom. He fears the long night ahead, with all the sugar swirling in your system undoubtedly going to keep him up.

He rubs his wears eyes. Startled when a moment later you’re right next to him by your side of the bed, patiently waiting for him to help you up.

"Get in the covers,” he hums with exhaustion.

But you don’t move. “No"

"Now.”

"I want an orange.”

"No. You—you just had your snack."

"That was the baby's snack. I want MY snack”.

Dear Christ almighty, bless me with a boy next time so that I have a fighting chance against her and mini her. “If I get you an orange, will you go to bed?" He asks irritably, his voice enunciating each word to ensure the contract that he’s making with you right now is solidified on both ends of the bargain.

You think it over before nodding with a little innocent beam. 

You crawl into the covers just as Joel descends the stairs once again. It takes the entire time for him to grab some oranges, a peeler, and paper towel just for you to rotate your middle and sit your ass in bed.

You sit up against the headboard and clap your hands, so excited when he reappears with the goods. He puts the towel on your mini-table bump and plops one orange atop.

Joel sighs and begins to walk towards his side of the bed, but is haunted when you clear your throat for his attention.

“Yes?”

"Peel it.”

He tries not to visibly roll his eyes before he's opening the round orange with his large fingers and clubbed nails. Everything smells like nectarine now.

Picky as can be, you peel off the extra dried white veiny bits and suck on each pod of the orange.

You expect a sweet simpleness to squirt on your tongue, but instead, a sour, bitter, unripe taste floods your mouth. “Ugh these are gross, now I want—“

Joel closes his wardrobe drawer, his shirt off and only halfway down to his boxers. “NO. NO means fucking NO. I’M TIRED. YOU’RE TIRED. WE'RE GOING TO BED. NOW,” he barks sternly into the mirror. His shoulders huffing from such aggression without being able to look at you.

You throw the covers off, orange skin and slices flying everywhere.

“Fuck you! I want ice cream! I want bananas and steak and potatoes and tacos and—!" 

-

He bares his teeth in a snarl, deep angered eyes casting downward with each poignant rut. “You're so annoying, so goddamn spoiled,” he grunts. His huge hands are wrapped around the top of your head and  cupping your jaw and bulging cheek, keeping you in place as he pushes his length into your mouth over and over again. “You’re gonna do shit when I tell you, the first time I say—shit—fuck there we go—gonna listen—unnggghhfff—listen ta me from now on. Just be my good little silent. Slutty. Pregnant. Wife.”

Your teary eyes are fixed upward at his imposing figure. Feeling each time his tip nudges the back of your throat has you gagging but you can’t pull away to breathe—not that you want to.

“You get—what I give ya—and you be grateful bout it.”

You gargle a moan in agreement. His balls slap against your chin with brutal punches. by this time tomorrow, there will be Joel-finger prints bruising your face and neck.

You love it. You love it when Joel forces you out of the hormonal phase of bossing him around, the endless need to want more and more, no end in sight to your greedy gluttonous desires, until he’s blowing up and blowing off steam using you instead. And it becomes very clear to you how much you just really wanted him this whole time. 

“That’s it—that’s it—you were hungry for my cock weren’t ya? Yeahhhh. Just begging me all night for it. Wanted all that meat for dinner, huh? Couldn’t just come out n’ say it? Your little brain didn’t know what ya truly needed. S’okay, Momma. I’m takin’ care of ya, aren’t I?”

The gluglugglug sounds mixed with strained pitchy whines echo in the master bedroom.

You grip his thighs with your hands to steady yourself, allowing him to abuse your throat. Maybe your knees hurt. Maybe the baby is settling uncomfortably against your lower back, and maybe it’s going to be really difficult to get up from this position in a few minutes. But each thick throb of his length filling your mouth over and over again, the spit slick strings dropping from your lips to your swollen tits, and the dent in your throat from his cock stretching to accomodate his size has your swollen pussy dripping into the carpet for more, more, more. 

It’s been at least a week since Joel drained himself. No wonder he’s been so on edge with each demand. Usually marveling how cute you are, but tonight he was at him limit. You were about to get a hefty, Joel Miller sized load filling your belly, and it’s going to be better than any cookie, steak, or orange in the entire world.

He feels the way your lips suction tighter. Your eyes are leaking tears, and he smirks as he brushes his thumb over to collect it. Briefly bringing it to his tongue and sucking on the salty taste before holding your head in place. 

“Shhh-shhhhhhhh. You gonna take it? Shit—shit—fuck yeah you are. Gonna fuckin take what I give ya, that’s right. My sweet wife. Bossing me around. Shit. Love when ya get like this. Known I’m gonna wreck that ass or that pussy or that mouth—all belongs to me. Fuck—fuck—fuuckk—“

His mouth drops into an o, brows drawn tightly together as slams his pulsing member balls deep into your mouth one final time. You choke, eyes wide as the tip of his cock breaches the deepest part of your throat, your nose suffocated by his pubic hairs and the fat of his lower belly surrounding your cheeks. His balls twitch against your lower lip, and you feel it coming. The travel of his seed from his sack, up his shaft along your tongue—a generous spurt of cum finally shooting from his tip and down your throat. You gag with each fat load that he pumps down your esophagus, too much to swallow at once yet having no other choice but to gulp it down quickly. Your face feels hot. He’s cumming endlessly, your mind blanking and eyes feeling blurry.

“Take it, take it, take it, that’s it,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

You nod just a little, hugging your arms around his thick thighs tighter. He grins, humming “That’s my good fucking wife, and throws his head as the last of his pleasure makes its way safely from his sated balls to your full womb.

Joel pulls you off his length gently. You sputter out cum and saliva onto his feet, sucking in air through your lungs like a newborn. 

Joel gets to one knee, his thumb pressed gently under your chin so you look directly at him. He’s got such softness in his eyes again, the ones that just switch on a dime the second he’s satisfied his aggress out on you. 

You’re completely wrecked: snot spit connecting to your nostrils and swollen lips, cheeks warm and eyes puffy and hazy with exhaustion and tears.

“That—mmffffgg!—was—definitely—my—snack,” you rasp with a hoarse voice. A lazy grin spread across your face only briefly as you continue to suck air.

Joel shakes his head before planting a long kiss atop your forehead. his hands glide along your body, and just in time as your knees give way and you’re falling into him. 

If you had half the mind right now, you’d curse him out for scooping you up and carrying you to bed like his once youthful bride, too concerned with the size and weight of your new body putting unnecessary stress on his aging knees and back. But Joel doesn’t protest once. Just watches you with loving eyes as he settles you into the soft bed. His tongue dips to your chest and breasts, kissing and sucking away any remnants of his rough face fucking. His cum, your spit, and fuvk it, even the little snot specks—all of it he cleans up before coming up to your lips. He kisses you softly with gentle pecks, enough to ensure you can still catch your breath. He sucks your lower lip into your mouth before wiping his own with his thumb. You’re calmer now, sated and drifting so close to sleep.

Joel clambers into bed next to you, wrapping his arm under your head and swaddling you close. You instinctively roll into his embrace. Kissing his peck and rubbing your face against him dreamily with soft breaths. “Tha hit ther spert juss rite. Ur da bess, Jol.”

“I know. So are you.” He waits for a reply, but nothing comes from you. “Are you goin’ into a food coma, baby?”

Your gentle snores answer him, along with the drool now pooling on his peck.

He chuckles and pulls your head into his face, inhaling your scent. Strong, secure, graceful hands caress your big belly. Your very very full belly, the one that he’s not going to envy when it gives you a the tummy ache tomorrow from stuffing it with so much junk food tonight. 

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

[cameronspecial]

Three Clues And One Announcement

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Troubles Getting Pregnant

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

A/N: Requested by @m4eveee.

Masterlist

Everyone knew about their difficulties with trying to conceive a child. They walk on eggshells when mentioning anything related to pregnancy or babies around the spouses. It is rare that the couple has both sides of the family and all their friends over. Their house isn’t exactly spacious enough to have everyone in the same place, so the get-together is held in the backyard. Drew is on the grill while Y/N is getting everyone drinks. “Hmm, this is good. Is there any alcohol in this?” Madelyn asks, taking a sip from the drink just handed to her. Y/N shakes her head, “No, none of the drinks have alcohol today. We haven’t been able to go to the store.” This should’ve been the first clue of the news the hosts were about to expose. 

Madison and JD both surround the barbecue with Drew. “You aren’t doing it right,” Madison critiques, watching Drew slip the food on the grill. He looks over at her with a shrug, “Actually, I think I’m doing it right.” JD laughs at the twos bickering. “Yo, what are you doing tomorrow? Do you and Y/N want to come over to play Mario Kart?” JD asks. Drew has to decline the offer, “I’m sorry. Y/N has a doctor's appointment tomorrow.” “If it’s Y/N’s appointment, why can’t you go?” Madison quizzes with a raised eyebrow. Drew’s mouth slacks open, “Uhh, well… I’m her husband and I want to provide her with moral support.” It was a lie. While the couple would sometimes go to appointments with each other, it was only on the basis that they had errands to complete together after. This is the second clue to the announcement that is soon to come.

Y/N enters the kitchen to find Brooke at the kitchen counter, looking at the magazines on display. Brooke holds up one specific magazine, “Hey, Y/N/N. Why do you have a pregnancy magazine?” Oops, Y/N should’ve put that one away. To not reveal their secrets, Y/N thinks quickly on her feet. “Ummm, I have suddenly become a kleptomaniac and I stole it from the doctor’s office. I have to go talk to your brother,” Y/N excuses herself to find Drew, leaving behind a confused sister-in-law. This is the third and last clue that gets them to move up the timeline of the party. 

After a whispered conversation about not being able to keep their news a secret for very long, Drew and Y/N call their guests' attention to them. Drew wraps his arms around his wife's waist and rests his hands on Y/N’s stomach. This brings together the puzzle pieces for Mackayla, who has been keeping track of all of the clues. She tries to hide her excitement, so her siblings can tell the news themselves. Y/N smiles up at Drew with a small nod. “Okay, so you guys might be wondering why we invited you all here together,” Drew begins and he is about to continue, but Y/N can’t contain her eagerness. She bounces on the ball of her feet, “I’m pregnant.” Mackayla jumps to her feet and points at the couple. “I knew it!” Drew and Y/N laugh at her reaction and welcome the guests who come in for a hug. Logan claps his brother on his back, “Congratulations, I know you guys have been trying for a while. If you need a babysitter, you know who to call.” “Thanks. Although, I don’t know if I trust you babysitting my kid. All the heartbreak was worth it if it leads up to this moment,” Drew confesses.  Y/N looks over at Drew with a massive grin as she talks to his mom and he is so glad that he, hopefully, won’t need to be wiping hurt tears anymore while she clutches a negative pregnancy test. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @victory-in-the-llama

[mun-urufu]

i still have no idea wha the fuck happened

Intro post ig

i have an alt account for when i reach post limit now: @munurufu

Pansexual; Transfem; Non-binary; Furry; plural (since apparently it’s not normal to have voices in your head)

@the-principality-of-sealand made me a vampire

YOU ROBBED ME OF GARLIC BREAD

INTP :3

I may be anarchist

chemistry and astrophysics and theoretical physics are what I geek out about

gender according to @griffinmcelroyspisskink-remade :

cryptid [REDACTED] nerd

Pronouns: any/all but prefer she/her and they/them

my other blog(s):

blahaj.zone = @munurufu

that’s it (for now) I SHALL SPREAD LIKE THE PESTILENCE

currently a triggering with bad mental health and a not good family but trying to remain positive and healing myself almost daily on Tumblr

porn blogs; porn bots; pedophiles; anyone who hits on me ina weird pedophilic way DO NOT INTERACT OE I WILL BONK YOU I TO THE ETERNAL BAN AND REPORT YOU TO THE GODS OF THIS GODLESS UNIVERSE

.║\

║▒\ put this on your blog

║▒▒\

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║ to show others

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║

║░▒║

▓▓▓▓▓

[█▓]

[█▓] you are gay

[█▓]

Nationality: Slovakian 🇸🇰 (I’m a mountain person :3)

Fandoms I’m in:

Urban Legends (Backrooms; SCP-foundation) Norse mythology Cryptids D&D; Furry; Genshin; HSR; Wuthering; Harry Potter (fuck JK Rowling I’m here for the fanfics) Doctor Who; Frieren; Tokyo Ghoul; Hermitcraft; there’s more but I’m stupid and can’t remember them

Anime recommendations:

Frieren, Tokyo Ghoul, Konosuba, Fairy Tail, some other ones idk

Videogams I’ll play with u if u ask nicely and I have time:

Minecraft, Genshin, Honkai Star Rail, Wuthering Waves, Rocket League, Apex Legends

Minecraft rp Server:

TimeSkipSMP (basically people from different time periods get somehow into the same world with no recollection of their previous memories other than their occupation. Send as ask if u want to join (24/7 server uptime) I’ll send an invite to the discord server where you’ll get all the needed info and a guide on how to make your character. Cureent characters:

15th Century French Plague Doctor

Medieval Beekeeper

Medieval Flower salesman and famer

17th Century pirate/swashbuckler

Current inventory:

Big Blåhaj from @tunderpal

Estrogen

the Heebi Jeebies

Longbow

64 arrows

Mundane short sword

Whisper Talisman (Rare)

Description:

This item has been blessed by a monk long ago who lived on the peak of Mount Hua. This will protect you from wind element attacks and will reduce knockback by 85%

Dopamine

about fuckingn time

ENJOY YOUR STAY ❤️

Tags:

@im-a-sentient-magic-carpet

@hadoom

@just--a--random--human--being

@enochianghost

@virulent-atrophy

@samlikeslawnchairs

@daggerhobbit

@lesbiansgethammers

@burger-churgler-new

@cactus-with-boobs

@catinasink

@tanihanya

@cult-of-the-lamb-fan

@official-bread-posts

@candieduranium

@projectmoonlightproductions

@chocxy-prince

@nedyakthefurry

@orionskittles

@pussypoptart

@oldmen-runningtheworld-anewage

@roxxywolf-multiversa

@pretentious-media

@omgitscheez

@newsbelltoday

@thewindyoubargainedfor

@imisslifebefore2016

@thefloralmenace

@irisbleufic

@iamnotjules

@dashoulinas-fandom-dump

@itsitadclioverihere

@lavender-witch128

@cannibalisticdespairi

@0gl1tch0

@raeprise

@hallucinating-at-the-disco

@rainbownerd12345

@37x3

@averydeadshootingstar

@mynaemsophie

@chocobytes21

@gender-fluidbees

@cthulhuismywife

@worldbuilding-tomfoolery

@thecrazyalchemist

@moonysfavoritetoast

@cutesludge

@you-need-not-apply

@the-trash-eating-llama

@pansexualpasta

@autism-criminal

@poemsofanentomologist

@greychaos1

@mtcenarius

@i-am-thoroughly-confused

@the-cheese-slut

@first-witch

@squidsinatrentchcoat443

@ankoku-teion

@thee0ne-with-rabies

@0xn0n53n53

@amethyst-aster

@unstableunicornsofasgard

@saint-jaz-the-queer

@beccagalemarley

@yourlocalbadgerscales

@ayolily

@prongspie

@david-goldrock

@yelenapines

@lemonicedcake

@lost-my-soup

@legendaryorca

@ieatwalls404

@str4wberrysp1derz

@cordyline-uki

@colombiana-16

@judecomradesquad

@crabgirldigitization

@118sexen

@100percentevil

@mybedroomceilingsbored

@fujillamaparadise

@g0dwat3r

@half-eaten-baguetteee

@jaydovesworld

@ang3lic-t3ars

@definitionoffuckup

@atropus-belladonna

@nicoswilltolive

@belovedrat

@nickelw

@traaansfem

Moots who wish not to be tagged :(

@uwathebestgirl

[munurufu]

Hewo Intro post ig

NOTICE:

This my new blog since the old one got shadow banned my some transmisogynistic dipshit at tumblr staff.

People who can vouche that this is indeed me and not an impersonator: @hadoom @projectmoonlightproductions @ieatwalls404 @im-a-sentient-magic-carpet

Pansexual; Transfem; Non-binary; Furry

@the-principality-of-sealand made me a vampire

YOU ROBBED ME OF GARLIC BREAD

INTP :3

I may be anarchist

chemistry and astrophysics and theoretical physics are what I geek out about

gender according to @griffinmcelroyspisskink-remade :

cryptid [REDACTED] nerd

Pronouns: any/all but prefer she/her and they/them

my other blog(s):

blahaj.zone = @munurufu

that’s it (for now) I SHALL SPREAD LIKE THE PESTILENCE

currently a triggering with bad mental health and a not good family but trying to remain positive and healing myself almost daily on Tumblr

porn blogs; porn bots; pedophiles; anyone who hits on me ina weird pedophilic way DO NOT INTERACT OE I WILL BONK YOU I TO THE ETERNAL BAN AND REPORT YOU TO THE GODS OF THIS GODLESS UNIVERSE

Trigger warnings:

none, I’m friendly and welcoming to all people and minorities and try to avoid anything which could hurt someone, if a post might be not good for someone (trauma, violence etc. NEVER ANYTHING RACIST OR OF SIMILIARITY) I’ll flag it. currently a high chance that I’ll have a breakdown, life’s not been well but I will tag those posts appropriately.

Nationality: Slovakian 🇸🇰 (I’m a mountain person :3)

Fandoms I’m in:

Urban Legends (Backrooms; SCP-foundation) Norse mythology Cryptids D&D; Furry; Genshin; HSR; Wuthering; Harry Potter (fuck JK Rowling I’m here for the fanfics) Doctor Who; Frieren; Tokyo Ghoul; Hermitcraft; there’s more but I’m stupid and can’t remember them

Anime recommendations:

Frieren, Tokyo Ghoul, Konosuba, Fairy Tail, some other ones idk

Videogams I’ll play with u if u ask nicely and I have time:

Minecraft, Genshin, Honkai Star Rail, Wuthering Waves, Rocket League, Apex Legends

Minecraft rp Server:

TimeSkipSMP (basically people from different time periods get somehow into the same world with no recollection of their previous memories other than their occupation. Send as ask if u want to join (24/7 server uptime) I’ll send an invite to the discord server where you’ll get all the needed info and a guide on how to make your character. Cureent characters:

15th Century French Plague Doctor

Medieval Beekeeper

Medieval Flower salesman and famer

17th Century pirate/swashbuckler

ENJOY YOUR STAY ❤️

Beloved mutuals: (The OGs)

@im-a-sentient-magic-carpet

@hadoom

@just--a--random--human--being

@enochianghost

@virulent-atrophy

@samlikeslawnchairs

@daggerhobbit

@lesbiansgethammers

@burger-churgler-new

@cactus-with-boobs

@catinasink

@tanihanya

@cult-of-the-lamb-fan

@official-bread-posts

@candieduranium

@projectmoonlightproductions

@chocxy-prince

@nedyakthefurry

@orionskittles

@pussypoptart

@oldmen-runningtheworld-anewage

@roxxywolf-multiversa

@pretentious-media

@omgitscheez

@newsbelltoday

@thewindyoubargainedfor

@imisslifebefore2016

@thefloralmenace

@irisbleufic

@iamnotjules

@dashoulinas-fandom-dump

@itsitadclioverihere

@lavender-witch128

@cannibalisticdespairi

@0gl1tch0

@raeprise

@hallucinating-at-the-disco

@rainbownerd12345

@37x3

@averydeadshootingstar

@mynaemsophie

@chocobytes21

@gender-fluidbees

@cthulhuismywife

@worldbuilding-tomfoolery

@thecrazyalchemist

@moonysfavoritetoast

@cutesludge

@you-need-not-apply

@the-trash-eating-llama

@pansexualpasta

@autism-criminal

@poemsofanentomologist

@greychaos1

@mtcenarius

@i-am-thoroughly-confused

@the-cheese-slut

@first-witch

@squidsinatrentchcoat443

@ankoku-teion

@thee0ne-with-rabies

@uwathebestgirl

@0xn0n53n53

@amethyst-aster

@unstableunicornsofasgard

@saint-jaz-the-queer

@beccagalemarley

@yourlocalbadgerscales

@ayolily

@prongspie

@david-goldrock

@yelenapines

@lemonicedcake

@lost-my-soup

@legendaryorca

@ieatwalls404

@str4wberrysp1derz

@cordyline-uki

@colombiana-16

@judecomradesquad

@crabgirldigitization

@118sexen

@100percentevil

@mybedroomceilingsbored

@fujillamaparadise

@g0dwat3r

@half-eaten-baguetteee

@jaydovesworld

@ang3lic-t3ars

@definitionoffuckup

@atropus-belladonna

@nicoswilltolive

@belovedrat

@nickelw

@traaansfem

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.130 Whoop that trick

At dawn, Sophia got up to pee, so I pulled myself out of bed to make breakfast because I knew she'd be hungry and head for the kitchen next. I felt like trying my French toast recipe again, as I hadn't perfected it yet. Cooking for Sophia had proven to be even more frustrating than cooking for Dad, because nearly everything contained dairy in some form. Scouring the internet every day for something new to try had gotten really old, so I started buying plant-based milk for my sanity. I think she appreciated it too because sometimes the temptation to eat dairy was so strong she gave in, damning the discomfort of bubble guts. How anyone could live life without cheese, I didn't know.

"Mmmmm, that smells so good," Sophia cooed.

"Thanks. I think I got it right this time."

The plant-based milk worked well for most things, but I needed to make adjustments to my custard. In my initial trials, either the bread came out too soggy, or it developed an eggy crust while it cooked. Everything looked perfect this time, so I hoped to remember what I did for next time.

"Okay, so hear me out," she started.

I had no idea what she was about to suggest, but I knew it would involve her not resting at home.

"It's Night Out on the Town tonight! We should go."

"Is that a good idea? You're due literally at any moment now."

"Okay, yeah, but this might be our last night as a child-free couple! We should spend some time together before we have to start scheduling it."

I wanted to come up with an irrefutable rebuttal, but I had none. Her logic was sound, as always. She'd been cooped up inside a lot lately, anyway. It wouldn't hurt to leave the house for a little while. It's not like we were going jogging around the lake or anything.

"Okay. But we're going to stay in town. There's a nice restaurant in Anchorpoint Wharf I've been wanting to take you to."

She clapped and did a little happy jig in her chair. I loved that woman.

Kooper and Rosie were getting old. Their coats turned gray, they slept a lot, and they walked a little slower. None of that seemed to stop them from running around the house like a pair of puppies, though. Rosie still demanded that Kooper play with her and dashed around the house and yard like she was training for a marathon. I loved that their age didn't stop them from having a good time. I was playing with Kooper when I realized something that stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Oh my Watcher," I shouted.

Sophia was behind me, asking what was the matter. I didn't mean to startle her, but it just occurred to me that Alessia might have her babies today!

"We need to get to Mama's house!"

She started to ask why, but I had already dialed Dad's number to see if he would come. Once she overheard my end of the conversation, she went upstairs immediately and got dressed. Dad said he was already on his way and would meet us there.

When we arrived, Mama wasted no time checking up on Sophia and loving on her youngest grandchild. She hammered her with a bunch of questions, like if she was getting enough rest and if she had experienced early contractions. All moms were lay doctors, I guess. Just as I had begun to think it was nice to have the whole family together again, loud forbidden words and angry screams rang out from upstairs, followed by rapid stomps heading in our direction.

"I'M GOING TO MURDER HIM," Alessia yelled.

"I'M GOING TO FIND HIM AND PUNCH IN HIS PRETTY FACE!! AND THEN I'M GOING TO CUT OFF HIS-"

"Whoa, Less," I said. "What in the world happened?"

Her face was as red as a strawberry, and her eyebrows scowled, just like an angry cartoon character. The lasers shooting from her eyes made me want to stay out of her way, but I needed to know what and who upset her so.

"JACE happened!! He's a PUNK!! Ol' llama-faced liar!!! I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"

"What did he do, Less?"

"He went back to his ex! IN MT. KOMOREBI!! And he married her!! He f#@$ing MARRIED her!!! HE SAID HE LOVED ME!! Ever since we found out it was triplets he's been weird!! HE IS DEAD TO ME!!!"

Mama had previously gone to the kitchen, no doubt to be near Dad when she noticed him taking out the trash, leaving only me to diffuse the situation. Alessia's anger was palpable, like an electric current coursing through the room. I had never seen her like that before, and it both scared and fueled me. I tried balling my fists and breathing extra slow and deep to keep myself from going off, but thoughts of confronting that piece of shit and laying hands on him stirred a fire inside me. There was no kind, gentle way to deal with this, and if I ever saw that cowplant turd in the street, it would be on sight! Nobody betrayed my sister and got away with it. I should have known something was up when he bailed at the baby shower. I saw him when we arrived, but after that, he was nowhere to be found. How could he weasel his way into my sister's fortified heart, knock her up, and leave her with THREE babies??? Did he really think running away to the mountain would absolve him of fatherhood? Like, did he not know child support was a thing? And he had THREE to support?? What an idiot! COWARD!! I hoped his wife had a real job because I knew Alessia would try to milk him dry. He'll be sorry he even met her! The sheer audacity of it all made my blood boil.

I was concerned about my niece and nephews and finally got Less to sit down. She didn't exactly calm down, because how could she? But she and I had a great time plotting and scheming against ol' Jace, planning what we'd do to him the next time we saw him. True, that wasn't healthy either, but it sure was fun. Revenge wasn't really Sophia's style, and she remained quiet. She also didn't have a sibling she would take up for at any moment, so she didn't understand why I acted like that and occasionally tried to talk sense into us.

But just like when she was a kid, Less found it hard to sit still and be calm, so she jumped up and paced the room, fuming like a teakettle. Even though he would eventually find out, I hoped Dad was still outside during Alessia's initial rant. Her situation was way too close to home, and I feared it might trigger him, especially being in Mama's house with all of us. But like I said, he would eventually find out. He and Mama came out from wherever they were, asking what all the yelling was about. I guess Mama had enough of Less' pregnant mood swings to come find out immediately. Less filled them in, and I saw a quiet rage growing within my dad. He looked just like how I felt. Maybe we could take another family trip to Mt. Komorebi and murder him together, heh.

I saw Mama eyeing me, as if to silently ask what we should do as the expert on all things mind, body, and soul. But I had no answers for her. My mind was set on destroying Jace, and my body was ready for it. I felt that in my soul, ha!

"I think we all need a dip in the pool," she said. "That should relax these tense mommies, right buddy?"

I sensed both sincerity and sarcasm in her tone, as she seemed disappointed that I provoked instead of diffusing the situation. Either way, she was right. Less definitely needed to calm down, but the rest of us did too, so we got changed and hopped into the pool.

[levi-llama]

Space, Time, and the Psyche (4)

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

Series Rating: Explicit

Chapter Rating: Mature

Chapter Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Panic attacks, Depression, and PTSD trauma flashbacks, Violence, lmk if I missed any!

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist / Taglist

Chapter Four:

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

During breakfast a few mornings after the incident on the cruise, the doctor asked me a really peculiar question. 

“So? How did you do it?” Head resting in both hands on the table, leaning over towards me as I munched on the toast I had smeared with a hefty amount of strawberry jam. 

“Again, Doctor, what do you mean by that? What did I do?” I inquired, honestly bored of the confusing conversation that he had chosen to bring up so early in the morning. Too early in the morning. 

“The psychic paper!” 

“Yea, that information doesn’t really help much unless you explain to me what ‘the psychic paper’ even is.” I mimic his voice. 

“Oi! I do not sound like that!” I just smirked at him incredulously. “And! The psychic paper is obviously a paper that is psychic!”

“Yea, obviously.” I huffed sarcastically and rolled my eyes. “Still not descriptive enough, doc.”

“Oh well then nevermind that! The important thing is that you, a normal human, were able to transfer a message to me through it.”

“Okay, Doc, I think I’d remember doing that.” I stirred absentmindedly at my dirty chai. 

“Yes, you’d think! Which is what makes it even more confusing!” He stood up and gripped his hair, exhausted by the mental gymnastics he was currently putting himself through. 

With a final sigh, he plopped down back in the chair and slouched. 

“Don’t you know any fancy alien wizards or something that can just tell you what’s going on?” I slurped the last of my tea. 

“Brilliant! Yes, brilliant!” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me up and out of the room, down the hall and to the control room. “You know, I’ve heard of this planet called Florielle! The priestesses there are supposed to know all things psychical! Heard it’s lovely this time of the year.” He smirked and pulled the lever.  

—

We seemed to have arrived at our destination, according  to the halting of the TARDIS, at least. We walked out and I immediately stopped. The sight stole my breath. The atmosphere was a bright periwinkle, while the land was towered over by large green stemmed, green petalled stalks that shot to the sky. The ground was covered in a pale tan dust and crawling flowers of royal purple, magenta, dusty pink, and all the colors in between. 

I took a deep breath as the air came back to me and the floral scent of perfume permeated my senses. I sighed in content like I was basking in the sun of a fresh spring morning. Yet, curiously, there was one thing missing; where was the wildlife. I couldn’t hear a single buzz of a pollinator or chirp of a bird, it was odd to say the least. 

“Hey, doctor?” I inquired. 

“Hm? What is it Eddie?” He responded absentmindedly while inspecting one of the green tree-like stalks. 

“Do you hear that?” 

“No, I don’t hear anything, why?” His attention swung to me. 

“Exactly. Why don’t we hear any wildlife? It’s eerily silent.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. Maybe all the fauna are out somewhere else.”

I hesitantly shrugged it off, but I still wondered how these plants worked, if not pollinators and with the lack of wind, how do they reproduce? 

I walked to a pair of lavender-like flowers and picked a newly bloomed bulb. As its pretty petals were severed, I felt a tinge of pain and sorrow. I reasoned that I was just personifying the plant, that maybe I was pushing my own feelings onto it, because flowers can’t feel pain. Right..? 

“Here, Doctor.” I spoke as I brushed the flower into his hair. “Now you’re gorgeous!” 

“Oi, I thought I was plenty pretty before, thank you very much!” 

I gave a huff of a laugh at our antics. 

“Shall we venture towards civilization, my dear Eddie?” He held his elbow out for me. 

“We shall!” I pretended to curtsey before taking his elbow and we ventured down a makeshift path. One that was created from natural wear and tear from people walking through the ground regularly. 

We wandered through the plants, some huge, some low to the ground. I glance at my companion, the mysterious spaceman, and wonder how he can keep his upbeat attitude even when no one’s watching. 

Saying it’s been a busy week would be an understatement. My life has completely changed, yet why do I still feel like everything is wrong. That I’m wrong. I should be carefree and happy, like him, yet the moment he turns away, my eyes droop and my smile falls. It’s exhausting really. Exhaustion was what I was trying to escape. Well, that and some other reasons, but all lead me to my exhaustion. 

“Hey, Doctor, can I ask you something?” 

“Hm? What’s on your mind?” 

I hesitate. I don’t want to dampen his mood with redundancies of my own insecure, human, mind. This is probably all above him anyway. 

“Well?” 

“Hm?” I suppose I had taken too long to respond. 

“What did you want to ask me?”

“Ah well-“ again, I can’t just bother him with my mundane internal struggles when he went through all the trouble taking us to this planet for my sake. “Do you think the people here will really be able to tell us what’s going on?”

He side eyes me in suspicion contemplation, before responding. “Oh don’t worry you’re little head, Eddie, my girl, if they can’t help, we’ll just find someone else who can.” He tousled my hair like I’m some frightened little girl. 

Maybe I am. 

—

I zone out, lost in my head as we walk. My surroundings are droning on in the background, that is until something wrapped around my ankle and I face planted. I was getting dragged into the weeds; the grass and roots cut into me like razor blades. 

I dug my fingers into the ground to stop my body from being dragged, but all that I accomplished was the unbearable feeling of dirt and grime stuck under my nails.

“Docto-mph!” My cry for help got cut off by the animated vines moving to cover my mouth. 

“Hey!” He dives, trying to reach me, but the vine flips me in the air, swinging about 15 feet high it slams me back first into the ground. 

All oxygen was sucked from my lungs. Eyes bloodshot and wide as the struggle to take in the thin air around me became harder and harder. The vines on my mouth not letting up, I felt constricted. Too constricted. Too paralyzed. 

The faint buzzing of the sonic screwdriver hummed in my ears as I felt the violent plant go limp. Cool slender fingers untangled the vines from my lips, yet my diaphragm continued to spasm with how little oxygen was filtering through my lungs. Every gulp of air wasn’t big enough. 

All felt hands on me and my fear doubled. I couldn’t tell where I was anymore. 

“Get. Off.” I wheezed out. My frantic eyes glancing to every corner but the visual input never solidified in my mind. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Eddie, I'm just getting these vines off of you.” All I could comprehend was the sound of a man’s voice. 

“No! No, don’t touch me!” I got enough air to scream, yet still not enough to satisfy the burn in my chest. 

The hands continued for the last few moments that it took to rid me of the vines before scooping me up into his lap. 

That’s what broke me. 

I kicked and flailed until I could scoot myself away from him.

“Eddie? Eddie what are you-“ he whispered, hesitant to approach. 

“No! It hurts! Get off of me! Stop it!” The fresh hot tears stung the road rash on my face. 

Grim realization swam across the Doctor’s face. He got up and took tentative steps towards me. Holding his hands, palms facing me, in a placating manner. 

“Hey, Eddie! You’re okay, you gotta snap out of it. You’re safe.” 

No reaction. 

He started to snap his fingers in front of my eyes. I didn’t flinch, because even though my eyes were open, I couldn’t see. 

After a beat more, the air gasped into my chest. So much so, that I hacked and coughed from the pressure. I sat up and gripped my face, the burning sharp pain starting to subside. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I- uh-“ the doc spoke gingerly, sounding guilty. 

“No, I get it.” I stood up. “I should be the one apologizing.” My face was blank, numb from the shame I had brought myself. I walked passed him. 

“Oi! Where you going?” He questioned, giving me pause. Where even was I going? What plan did I have? All I knew was that I needed to get away for fear I’d break down in front of him. 

“Gotta wee.” I settled on the simplest excuse while I continued to walk into the wild brush. 

⛧_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_☾_-_-_-_*_-_-_-_⛧

[cthoniian]

still hiatused but clarifying ;

okay so i wanna clarify what i mean when i say ill be lessening sjm muses in priority on my blog. it means i wont be actively seeking memes / threads with them outside of largely existing dynamics already plotted and with people im already very close to. ive edited my space so im comfortable with whose around me in that fandom, but until that watersign anger lessens its best i keep sjm muses close to the vest.

that being said!!! i’ll be raising up other muses in priority. hotd, asoiaf, critical role, doctor who, emperyan, random romance novel muses, greys anatomy - etc. so i’ll be far from lacking in muses. just shifting my priority from sjm to others.

if you’re only here for sjm muses - then im gonna lose my shine for you ~ and that is a-okay, please feel free to sb/unfollow. no drama no llama just ~~~ protecting our each unique vibes yanno.

[lazybug16]

Thanks for the tag Emma!!🫶 @piebingo

Gonna tag @myladyofmercy @missmeganlee @zee-has-commitment-issues @monkey-d-momo @newtness532

[stygianheart]

HAPPY PRIDE! Featuring Ryan (Bryan) Vivero, Unlabeled!!

Small Text underneath:

“So, Ryan, who’re you into?”

The question was sudden and unprompted—random and sort of confusing. All Ryan had been doing was sitting on the couch and reading a book, when the stupid llama Helmeppo walked up, plopped himself down next to him, and just asked that question.

Ryan paused for a second, looking at Helmeppo in confusion.

Helmeppo repeated the question. “Who’re you into?”

“…why are you asking me this?”

Helmeppo shrugged. “It’s June, so it’s pride month. Just wondering where you fit into that.”

Normally, Ryan would snap at Helmeppo with some witty, smug, and arrogant insult. However, Helmeppo normally didn’t ask Ryan serious questions.

Ryan only knew the question was serious because Helmeppo wasn’t smirking.

He lowered his book, frowning a bit as he turned to stare at the floor. “…I don’t know.” He finally answered.

“Seriously?” Helmeppo raised a single brow. “So, you don’t know if you like guys or girls or people in between or—”

“I don’t know.” Ryan snapped, sending a glare to his friend. “Genuinely.”

“Okay, then what’s your type?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ don’t you understand, you brainless llama?!”

“I was just asking a question!!”

Ryan huffed, pulling out his cigarette box. “Look. I don’t know. I like who I like, and to be honest, I don’t want to put a label on it. I never had the time for a crush, but…” he glanced at Helmeppo, the gears in his brain turning ever so slowly. “I guess I do have a type? Someone tall. Smart and loyal. Brave, too, and caring.” He reached a hand over, picking up some of Helmeppo’s hair between his fingers and electing to ignore the fact the blond’s face was turning pink.

“W-what are you?!—”

“I like long hair too.” Ryan mused, rubbing the hair between his fingers before letting go and pulling his hand away. “And—”

“Don’t touch my hair!” Helmeppo snapped, scooting away from Ryan ever so slightly. “And didn’t you have a crush on Martial Geob the pirate? Even though he’s, like, nine years older than you? He has long hair.”

Ryan scowled. “Don’t cut me off, asshole!” Helmeppo raised his hands in a silent apology as Ryan lit a cigarette. “…I guess they gotta be a bit older? Though not, like. Old older. Just…like a few years older than me. 1 to 5 years, though I’ve gotta have met them as an adult. But I don’t really think gender matters to me.” He took a puff of his cigarette, watching the smoke tendrils float around.

“…Ryan, you’re a doctor, you should know smoking is bad—”

“Fuck off and let me finish my answer!” Ryan grunted in annoyance as Helmeppo smiled sheepishly in yet another silent apology. “Point is, I like who I like. Guy, girl, between and neither, I like whoever, as long as they fit my sort of type. And I don’t like labels, so…I’m unlabeled, I guess.” His eyes flicked over to Helmeppo as silence began to fill the air between them. He was probably going to regret asking, but whatever. “And what about you?”

Helmeppo shrugged, leaning back on the couch. “Mostly girls. I’ve liked a guy here and then, but I prefer the ladies Though I like it when people are kinda rude and blunt and unafraid to snap back. Brave, in a way. But even though they’re rude, they’re selfless and kind. You get what I’m saying?”

Ryan tapped his cigarette against the tray beside him, watching the ashes fall. “Yeah. Guess I do.” He muttered. There was a pause, then— “so basically me?”

“What?! NO! SHUT UP, AS IF!!!!”

Ryan snorted, almost dropping his cigarette. “Please, your face is redder than my hair right now!”

“Oh shut up, you—you—you wretched hyena!”

“Awww, is someone scared that I found out about his little crush on me?”

“I DON’T LIKE YOU, SCREW OFF!” Helmeppo blubbered, immediately trying to elbow Ryan. The corpsman dodged it easily, still laughing at the flustered look on his friend's face. He took it in through the laughter, his smile growing by the second.

Unlabeled, huh?

Guess I can live with that.

[boombambaby]

Grandma Pacha's Mystery Beetle Stew

Do you know what the downside of actually being sick is, as opposed to faking an illness? . . . . The actually being sick part.

Spotitiosis is harmless, mostly. Aside from the vibrant purple spots coloring your skin, it does come with the usual ‘sick’ symptoms such as feeling overly tired, having a headache and feeling like your face is on fire– but it isn’t even close to being the worst illness you could have. To put it mildly? It’s unpleasant. If you ask Kuzco to describe it however, he’ll complain loudly and in detail how much it feels like he’s actively dying. 

Chicha is at her wits end trying to keep the Emperor occupied so he’ll stop whining about every little inconvenience, but it’s near impossible regardless of what miracles she performs. First he’s too hot, then he’s too cold, he’s thirsty, he wants his comic scrolls, he wants the bon bon’s and fanners from the palace back– it never ends. 

He’s worse than an actual child, which is impressive considering she’s had to take care of both of her children when they’ve been sick in the past, who are in grade school and Kuzcogarten respectively, and neither one of them have ever been quite this needy. 

She sighs as she takes the pot of stew she's been doctoring off of the fire, giving it a final stir before setting it to the side to cool. It’s the fourth batch of Grandma Pacha’s Mystery Beetle Stew that she’s made so far, and while it’s not hard to make, it is time consuming. Between making the stew and tending to Kuzco, she’s had little time for anything else today– and was grateful when Pacha offered to take the kids out to the pasture to help him with the llama’s when they got home from school earlier, so she could have a little bit of peace.

With yet another bowl of the stew plated, Chicha makes her way into the dining room to give it to Kuzco, who’s reluctantly seated at the table with a blanket draped over his shoulders. He still has his bathrobe underneath the blanket, and it makes her sweat just looking at him– but that isn’t necessarily the reason she stops dead in her tracks between the kitchen and dining room threshold. Kuzco managed to nod off at the table again, his chin propped up by the heel of his palm with his elbow resting against the table’s surface. He’s snoring softly, something she’s heard him vehemently deny that he does, and his lashes flutter peacefully against his cheeks. She’s abruptly reminded as she stares at him that despite the title, power and money– Kuzco, their Emperor (while in school or not) is still very much just. . . a kid. A kid who needs an abundance of guidance and an attitude adjustment, but a kid all the same. 

He’s not even out of his teenage years yet– and the idea of having such responsibility heaped onto him from such a young age, and going through everything that’s happened in the last year or two . . . she can understand why he’d miss the comforts of the palace. Underneath all the bluster, ego and selfishness, Pacha insisted to her when he first came to live with them that Kuzco had some good in him. From time to time she’s seen it herself in the little actions that he does when he thinks no one else is looking, but more often than not on purpose for the praise that comes with it. It’s becoming more natural for him by the day, not that he would ever admit to that, either.

All in all he really isn’t that bad of a kid. Annoying and unbearable at times, most definitely– but she thinks she’s starting to see what Pacha saw in him during their grand adventure.

Chicha snaps herself out of her reflections with a shake of her head and continues into the room, setting the bowl of stew down with just enough force to cause a resounding ‘clang’ against the table. Kuzco startles awake with a snort, looking around wildly for a moment before his eyes settle on Chicha, and then fall to the steaming bowl of stew sitting in front of him. He lets out a loud groan and pushes the bowl away with one hand, while the other folds against the table to act as a pillow for the dramatic display he makes when his head falls down against it. “Gods, another one?! Already?” It’s petulant and whiny, and exactly what Chicha had been expecting from him, and she’s unable to withhold her eye roll if she tries.

“Yes Kuzco, another one. Two bowls every hour for twenty four hours, remember?” She asks, taking the seat across from him at the table.

Because his head is down, he’s unable to see the amused smirk on her lips when she continues. “You do want to get well enough to return to school, right? Or should we just let Yzma know that you’re handing the Kingdom over to her because you’re tired of eating stew?” Chicha only blinks when he raises her head to cast a glare at her, that amused smile still prominent as she assumes his earlier position with her chin in her hand. “It can’t be that bad, Kuzco. You’re. . . just under halfway there.” That garners her another groan, and Kuzco finally hoists himself back up to stare despondently into the bowl in front of him. “Great pep talk, thanks for that.” She can see the gears whirring in his head, so she waits for him to continue. “So. . . I’m not great at math but that means I’ve only got a little over 24 bows of this sh– “ 

Chicha sharpens her stare into a glare at the beginning of what she thinks sounds like foul language, and Kuzco is smart enough to catch himself and switch tracks. “ –uh, stuff. Stew! Only a little over 24 bowls of stew left before I can stop?” So he’s a glass half full kind of guy, that’s good to know. 

“Yes Kuzco, that’s exactly what it means.” It doesn’t cheer him up entirely, but it’s enough for him to pick up the spoon and edge the bowl closer so he can start in on it in earnest, and that’s enough to satisfy her for now. She stands from the table and watches him for a moment– making sure he won't try to pour it into a vase again like the last time, and then makes her way back to the kitchen, her safe haven. Another bowl of mystery stew, coming right up.