#bacteria inside mouth

[healthiswealthuniverse]

The Sweet Dilemma: Unraveling the Connection Between Sweets and Gum Disease

In this blog post, we'll delve into the intricate relationship between sweets and gum disease, exploring how the sweet indulgences we love may be contributing to the deterioration of our gums.

In the pursuit of pleasure for our taste buds, we often indulge in the delightful world of sweets. From decadent chocolates to sugary candies, our cravings for these treats are almost irresistible. While the immediate joy of consuming sweets is undeniable, it’s crucial to understand the potential consequences of excessive sugar intake on our oral health. One of the most significant threats is the…

[artcallednonsensed]

From a Nostril,

“mimosa & lemon and fart altogether smells like menudo in a bowl”

M&L from candle

[noearchives]

one piece boys + first kiss headcanons

pairings: portgas d. ace x gn!reader, trafalgar d. water law x gn!reader, sanji x gn! reader, roronoa zoro x gn! reader

a.n.: a sweet little something. :)

cw: none, a trace amount of suggestive content in sanji's and ace's part if you squint really hard...

portgas d. ace

- happens when both of you are a bit tipsy after a drink or two during a party on the moby dick.

- has kissed a few people here and there (nothing too serious), so he has a bit of experience.

- is good with his tongue, this boy.

- very impatient too.

- that's why after one or two close-mouthed kisses, he’s already slipped his tongue inside your mouth.

- like oh okay! didn't know we were going this fast!

- despite the quick pace, it’s not difficult to pick up. you kiss him like you’ve done it thousands of times before already, and you don't really need to think about what you're doing when you kiss because it just comes to you Naturally.

- it feels like it’s burning, to the point where you suspect ace has unintentionally activated his devil fruit to melt your tongues together.

- is so into it to the point where he didn't even notice when his hat fell off.

- you'd have to pat him on the back twice to make him let go of you because he will Not notice how you're already out of breath.

- leaves you dizzy and breathless. in a way that makes you want more.

- "let's take this to my room, yeah?"

trafalgar d. water law

- you waited for ages for the right timing for him to kiss you first, but it never seemed to come.

- see, the captain of the heart pirates never had the time nor mood for things like this.

- so when you asked if you could kiss him, he panicked a little. just a little.

- he tries to play it cool, but when you’re 1cm away from his lips, it’s like you're holding a gun to his head, frozen in place with his eyes squeezed shut.

- for the first two seconds of the kiss, he’s a little grossed out by the flesh-to-flesh feeling and the thought of the bacteria that’s being exchanged between the both of you is making his head spin a little.

- but as your lips part and connect with his again, he slowly melts into the kiss, copying your movements as you continue.

- it’s not a super passionate kiss or anything, but it leaves his whole body buzzing with his heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

- this feeling is so foreign to him- but somehow, he wants more of it, and he wants to know everything about it.

- "can we do that again?”

sanji

- it happened during one of those moments where it’s late at night and all his emotions bubble up to the back of his throat.

- you were the one who initiated the kiss because he kept rambling, going on and on about how much he loves you and how he doesn't deserve you, how a filthy man like him shouldn't be with a beauty like you, eventually spiralling into self-hate.

- it gets to the point where you had to shut him up with a kiss, to prove that yes, you actually want him, and no, he is not a filthy, unlovable man.

- god, your lips are so soft. he might just start crying.

- he doesn't, of course, so he won’t ruin the moment.

- the kiss is soft and tender, but he soon becomes desperate for more and it escalates into something further, the sentimental moment taking a one hundred-and-eighty degree turn.

- it’s strange, because he was just sulking over himself, and now his hands are all over you, fingers hiking up your shirt as the kiss grows deeper.

- the moment your lips are parted, you give him a light-hearted scold.

- “apologies, my love. you're just a little too irresistible.”

roronoa zoro

- catches you absolutely off guard. surprisingly, he’s the one who kisses you first rather than the other way around.

- it happened so casually- you were hanging out with the strawhats, a drink in your hands as zoro bent down to kiss you as he was passing by.

- he didn't say a word. just a swift kiss that lingers on your lips, leaving your ears and cheeks burning.

- it was bold of him to kiss you out of nowhere- in front of everyone too, telling everyone that you're his, and his only.

- (probably to also piss sanji off while doing so.)

- when you ask the swordsman about it a while later when the two of you are alone, he just answers with a longer, deeper kiss.

- “no more questions,” he mumbles against your lips. “do you want the kiss or not?”

- of course, you reply with your lips on his. actions speak louder than words, afterall.

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 X Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Seven

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 Series (MDNI)

CW: Humping, nipple play, groping, brief female masturbation, oral sex (m receiving)

Taglist: @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum

Masterlist

Thick streaks of due simmered down the window panes, globs cascading and collecting at the wooden frame, moulding the inside before it eventually rots away.

The patter against the roof was gentle, calming, almost like a hushed lullaby that succumbed the house to a deep slumber, one that was needed. You found yourself stumbling back to the house a while after your time with Gaz, the Sergeant blabbering about what life was like for him before all of this happened, how rough it was being in the military and how sometimes he felt even the apocalypse was less depressing.

The kitchen smelt like beef stock and thickened gravy, raw deer meat filtering through the padded walls as you walked in on Price, gruff grin on his face as he ordered around Soap who ushered to his every move.

You observed them for a second, taking in how much respect and authority they upheld for the oldest man. He called, they answered. In a way, it was endearing to watch. Even out of the field, they still admired their well-earned ranks.

“You enjoy yourself, doll?” John quipped towards you, smug smile adorning his worn features, age mellowing him like fine wine. You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, shrugging off the suggestive tone. It was still new to you, and in a way you don’t think you would ever get used to it. Any of it.

“What are you making?”

John loved the way you spoke, your voice a mellow honey, seeping through the grit of your teeth and rolling off the fat of your tongue, lips drenched with your saliva, the top of your mouth coiling upwards slightly when you were amused but attempted to hide it.

You held a certain glow to you, a deafening feeling that ached away at them all even during the shortage of knowing you. Almost captivating, you were a simplicity in a world full of horrors and maybe that’s why they grew so fond of you so fast.

“Had a spare bag of rice tuck’d away in Simon’s bag, brute onl’ just went through it. Dirty bastard, that one,” Soap joked, voice cracking with the disguise of his accent that blurred any coherence of certain words, “It’s rice and deer t’night, hen. That good t’ you?”

You smiled, nodding, “Do you need help?”

“I woul’ never deny a fine lady’s help,” the man winked, ushering you over as John rolled his eyes at the flirtatious Sergeant. Gaz scurried away upstairs, Price following, you presumed to change clothes, but truth be told, you wondered what they did when you weren’t around.

Did they talk to each other? Touch each other? Hold each other? Did they fuck one another like they’ve done you?

You shook your head, eyes rolling down to the chopping board in-front of you as you followed Soap’s command, enjoying his wit. After a while, you figured you relatively enjoyed his company, despite the occasional pushiness, he was really a sweet guy and incredibly smart. He offered you a sense of comfort and warmth, similar to Gaz, their eyes both holding an endearing light.

Once prepared, you watched Soap work with ease, stepping back to give him space. He didn’t acknowledge it but you could tell he appreciated it, enjoying that you trusted him enough to take control in a space you only called your own.

You faced away from him, hands buried in soapy cold water that would barely do enough to wash away any lingering bacteria. The spit of bubbles penetrated your skin, soft tingles simmering against the delicate hair that lightly littered your arms.

Soap watched you, taking in the curvature of your thighs and ass, the way the material hugged you, moulding to every crevice of you. Gentle fingers settled amongst your hips, pulling you flush against a harder surface, the clear indent of a boner flushed against your behind as you almost gasped, body jolting at the sensation.

Lips pressed against the heat of your neck, burying themselves in the crevice. Your skin erupted at the sensations, hot magma rising through your veins as plush thighs rubbed together, the friction of the fabric most likely causing chafing for you to deal with later.

“Soap, what are you doing?” You whispered out, the feeling of his hands raising to the mound of your chest, groping the flesh as sensitives nuns pressed themselves against the cotton of your t-shirt.

“Just want’d a taste before dinn’r. That ok’ sweet’art?”

You whined as calloused hands slipped under your shirt, settling at your chest. His hands were warmer than you expected, almost adding to the flames that erupted against your flesh, heating you.

Twitchy digits found your nipples, tugging at them with both patience and fervour; almost testing the waters. You backed up into him, rubbing against the growing bulge that buried itself between your ass, a thankful growl passing his lips before you felt him lick a stripe behind your ear, hot breath fluttering against your lobe.

Both of you worked against each other, hips clashing as you humped one another, working yourselves off through icky fabric, desperate and starved for any form of touch. Your hand gripped around his arms, veins running underneath the palm of your hands as his own kneaded your flesh, toying with your breasts and tender skin.

Your pussy clamped around nothing, almost aching for more as he rutted against it, the simple tease of fabric gently guiding along your clit occasionally, panty breaths leaving your lips as you hummed at the sensation.

The sound of stairs creaking tore you away as you shuffled to the side, quickly running your arms together as you smoothed out your top, the lingering sensation of Soap’s touch still prevalent against your skin.

You looked up to the imposing figure now standing before the kitchen, Simon’s face still covered by a thick piece of black fabric, the hem of his brown eyes peeking through, framed by long blonde lashes.

“Food nearly ready?” His voice was gruff, almost threatening, yet being in his presence didn’t scare you. He was intimidating, a burly figure that could easily harm you if needed, but there was a simple gentleness that followed him. You had heard him crack a few jokes, shitty jokes, but jokes nonetheless.

“Ay’ don’t be impatient, LT, it’ll be ready in a moment.”

Dinner was nice. It was simple. All of you nursed a final pour of whiskey, the brown liqueur broiling at your chest before settling in the depth of your stomach.

Everyone had offered to clean, letting you head up early which you gratefully thanked them for (even though it was the least they could do).

It was quiet upstairs, your head chiming as you got ready for bed, shedding your clothes off before slipping over an old shirt, legs bare as they tangled between the sheets. Fingers laced your sensitive skin, dipping into your folds to collect your slick before sliding a repetitive motion against your clit.

You were pent up from earlier, chasing the needed high that you weren’t able to get from Soap. Would he visit you? Fulfil the words he said to you? Remove the clothed barrier between the two of you?

Almost like your mind was read, there was a soft hum of a knock at the door as you pulled the blankets over you before gesturing them in. Soap’s eager eyes welcomed you, head lopping to the side slightly as he gave you a clumsy smile.

You weren’t sure if it was confidence or the barely-consumed amount of alcohol that surged through you as you stood up and waltzed over to the Scotsman. Quick hands pushed the door closed before you were on your knees, the wood below you offering you no support as you fidgeted with the zipper of Soap’s pants.

“Lass, you don’t-“

“I want too.”

He swallowed, visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing with excitement as he rested a hand against the side of your hand, rubbing against it delicately. Sea blue briefs were stained a dark hinge due to the large wet patch that grew, tip flushed against it as an eager mouth lapped at it through the material.

Johnny hissed, throbbing at the sensation before he thrusted slightly, meeting your tongue that was soaking through his boxers. “Don’t tease m’, love. I’m a desperate man.”

You looked up at him and grinned, palming him, before pulling them down, angry cock springing out before slapping against the base of his stomach, tip leaking with pre-cum that you were eager to taste.

Steady hands found the base, squeezing it before bringing the threatening length towards you. You spat, a glob of saliva dripping down towards his cock before you worked it in with a pace, the member now glistening as you kitten licked the tip, tasting him for yourself as you hummed.

Soap’s hands found your hair, holding it into a pony as your lips worked around his length, slowly burying him in the warmth of your mouth before you hollowed out your cheeks, earning a grunt from the man.

“That’s it, love, good girl.”

His words fuelled you, feeding you just right as you worked him further into your mouth, a gag soon following as evident saliva pooled at your mouth, escaping your lips through a crack as you swallowed around the intimidating length.

Soap was a string of expletives as you sucked him off, your tongue running along the shaft of his cock, tracing every vein as the remainder of him was worked off by a hand, another buried at his balls that were covered by light curls of dark hair.

His hips moved with every thrust you made, working himself deeper into your throat as you gagged and hummed, tears welling your eyes as he held onto your hair with a tight grip. You looked up at him, eyes wide with lust as he smiled back, a cocky glaze over his face.

Johnny’s hands pulled you back, your mouth pulling off of him with a pop as you raised a brow in confusion, almost offended.

“Would be a waste if I came in your mout’ before feeling your pussy, wouldn’t it, sweetness?”

[januaryembrs]

tea!! anything bugsy and spencer

the one with the surfboard | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

description: there's only one person who could ever get Spencer Reid in the ocean and that's Bugsy

length: 1.6k

warnings: mention of sex, swearing, Penelope and Reid being thirsty for Morgan and bugsy. Pen calls Derek chocolate thunder but this is nothing new! set at beginning of season six.

part of the trouble almost all my life universe

Spencer settled his feet into the warm sand, trying his hardest to make sure the grain didn’t stick to the thick layer of suncream he’d applied not even five minute earlier, his sunglasses hanging on his nose as he watched Morgan and Bugsy hit a ball to one another over an invisible volleyball net. 

“You not going to take a swim, pretty boy?” Emily asked, basking on her back in a red bikini, soaking up the sun they rarely got so clearly stuck in their office. His face scrunched up, shaking his head until he remembered Emily had her eyes closed, and it only took one look at where JJ was laying incredibly still to know she’d already dozed off on the sun lounger. 

“One litre of ocean water has about one billion microbes of bacteria and around ten billion viruses, so,” He shuddered, his lithe fingers gripping the arms of the chair as he tried not to think about every single one of them entering his mouth if he were to even get close enough it could spray on his face, “No thankyou,” 

“Not even if Bugsy asked you?” Penelope pointed out, a sex on the beach she’d ordered with a giggle and a ‘if Morgan gets lucky.’

His lips twitched, feeling his neck grow hot in a way he told himself was just the sun, and he glanced at the technical analyst with something fleeting, “She did ask me, I told her the exact same thing I’m telling you guys,”

“And?” Emily asked, sensing that hadn’t been the end of the conversation because her sister knew exactly how to get her way when it came to men, Spencer specifically. 

Rubbing under his nose with his knuckle, Spencer downcast his eyes to the beer Bug had handed him, sand sticking to the green, frosted glass as the liquid bubbled freshly inside the bottle, “She said I owed her an hour of fun,”

Penelope’s face lit up at the innuendo of it, nudging him lightly with her shoulder, “Hell yeah, you’re such a stud, Reid. An hour?” 

Emily winced in grotesque, “That’s my sister you’re talking about there, Pen. A sister is very much present here,” 

The blonde shrugged, sipping through her pineapple decorated straw, “Not my fault you have a hot sister, Prentiss,” 

“Can we stop talking about this? Please?” Spencer floundered, his fingers wrapping over the edge of the seat, his jaw tensing as the words hot, hot, hot, smeared all over his brain like a stamp. And everything he’d tried to deny for months bit at his neck so much so he was quickly fiddling with his shirt collar. 

“Agreed,” Emily seconded, taking a long drink of her mojito, and Penelope saw it as a chance to lean in close to him, a smirk on her clementine scented lips.

“Don’t you think watching the two of them play together is like something out of Baywatch,” She murmured, her eyes locking on the two agents that seemed to be on their longest streak yet judging by all the laughing and shouting going on in between hits. 

Spencer had never tuned into Baywatch, nor did he have any intention of doing so. But he did have to admit that watching Bugsy jump around in the ocean, her hair clasped back in a claw clip away from her face, her skin practically glowing from the vitamin D both on her face and on her obscenely beautiful body that was free to see in those bikini shorts and mini top, was more captivating than any tv show he could imagine.

He swallowed, shaking his head, “I think you spend too much time with Derek,”

Penelope held her chest in mock offence, her glass empty in her hand as she looked at him with teasing eyes, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that, Reid. There’s no such thing as too much chocolate thunder time.” 

Spencer smirked, chuckling to himself and he barely even noticed the two people that were the hot topic of conversation had left the sea until a plastic, bouncy ball went hurtling at Emily’s forehead and rebounded clear off her hairline. 

“FUCK,” The woman cursed, opening her eyes where a few rogue droplets of sea water dribbled down her cheek, her peace and serenity completely wiped away where her little sister stood with a hidden smirk, Derek biting his knuckle to hide his laugh, “You fucker, what was that for?”

“Just making sure you hadn’t cooked alive, you looked very still,” Bugsy held her hands up in innocence, even though Emily stood with a vengeance, rolling her eyes at the cheeky grin she got back. 

Emily muttered something about her being a childish shrew, before she huffed, shoving past her sister and heading towards the beachfront bar, Derek and Penelope in tow. Which left the two of them, and a sleeping JJ, on their tiny corner of the beach. 

“You sure you don’t want to come in?” Bugsy asked, trails of salt water sliding off her hair and down her stomach, the sight of them making Spencer’s mouth dryer than the sand beneath them, “I saw a jellyfish, or at least I think it was, it may have been a condom,” Spencer gagged inside his mouth with an incredulous look on his face, and she chuckled, dropping the ball to his feet, “Relax, I’m kidding. I’m going back in if you want to join, promise I won’t splash you or nothing,” 

“I’m good, you go have fun with your new pal; the condom,” He said with a grossed out pull of his lips, though he smiled when she did and she grabbed the surfboard stuck in the ground beside him, trotting off back towards the ocean, “Remember to reapply soon!” He called, and she flicked a look over her shoulder.

“You're as bad as Emily,” She yelled back, taking off towards the waves with a chuckle, the sea breeze blowing tiny shrapnels of sand against her calves.

Spencer shamefully felt his eyes drop to her butt, and as fast as he did, he looked away, because that was supposed to be his best friend. She’d certainly never made it seem like they were going to be anything else. Perverts watched pretty girls running, perverts watched how their skin lit up with the rays of lights bouncing off the water and their hips swung with every step, and he wasn’t a pervert. 

He was just… human. And who could ever resist her. 

He watched the sea spraying out beneath her feet as she ran right in, and she waded out deep enough that he lost sight of her stomach, the board skirting the surface of the water for a moment. 

She was possibly the coolest person he’d ever met, and she was his best friend. 

He watched her hop up onto her stomach, keeping an eye on the horizon for a big enough wave rolling in. Deciding on an incoming ripple gradually gaining traction, she paddled out towards it, her arms strong and focused from what he could see where he was sat, nursing his bottle of beer. 

“Baby Prentiss got moves,” Morgan whistled as they returned back with drinks cold enough Spencer saw the condensation gathering on the glass already, though that was the only time he actually tore his eyes away from her as she got further away from the safety of land, the black band attaching her ankle to the board the only thing he could really see of her. 

“She talked some bar boy into teaching her the Summer she spent in Mexico with my mom,” Emily shook her head as they watched her jump up into a steady stand, the rip gathering under her surfboard and soon she was floating over the water, the concentration evident on her face as she held her arms out to balance. 

She went a few more times, the group settling into the quiet they had whenever she was busy, because she was not exactly known for her calm nature, yet Spencer’s eyes were the only ones glued to her figure the entire time, ever the worrier when it came to her daredevil side. 

And it was like he was watching it in slow motion; on her fifth turn riding a particularly quick rip her balance got thrown off. Nothing serious, it was only a few ten yards out offshore, and she was a strong swimmer, he’d seen it. She quickly lowered herself back into a straddled sit, only for the wave to gain traction before it fizzled out, crashing into the side of her board right as she was about to take a breath, and he watched her flip sidewards into the water, the tide bringing her close enough he knew she’d be able to stand.

But she didn’t come up for a few moments, and it was enough that Spencer was out of his seat, taking off jogging towards the ocean, every statistic that had been whizzing through that big brain of his about how filthy the water was suddenly evaporating as he watched her throw a hand up to the surface, her board skirting above her being the only pointer for him where to go. 

By the time he made it over to her, he was knee deep before he thought of the consequences, the cold hitting him like a freight train, and she was already dragging herself towards land on her hands and knees, her hair stuck to her face, her claw clip ripped out by the current.

“Are you okay?” He asked, but she didn’t respond, only to cough up sea water with a screwed up expression that told him just how horrible it tasted. 

“I need a beer,” She wheezed, as he lifted his hands under her arms, tugging her to her feet, his entire torso getting drenched as she clung onto him for safety, still spluttering ocean out of her lungs. 

And he shook his head with a smile, brushing her hair back enough for her to see, her eyes sore and red with angry blood vessels where he imagined it stung to get the salty water in them, and all but dragged her back up the rest of the beach where Derek and Emily were laughing at her fail so hard they’d woken JJ up. 

“Yasmine Bleeth never ate seawater, Bug, what happened?” Morgan jeered, earning him a middle finger to the face as Penelope offered her a nice big gulp of a margarita to clear her taste buds. 

And for the first time all day, Spencer wasn’t even thinking about how much bacteria was all over his skin if it meant she was alright.

[the-californicationist]

he changes your mind

John Price has been trying his best to convince you to let him give you a baby. After learning about his willingness to make sacrifices for you and your family, you decide to grant his wish.

MDNI/18+

TW: breeding, pregnancy, explicit sex

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51167794

Be sure to stop by my archive for more COD fics and to view my completed Kinktober collection, "Gauntlet".

John Price was smiling again. His cheeks were crushed up underneath his pale blue eyes, full of wonder and searing joy. The creases at the edges of his lashes cut and folded like the beginnings of an origami crane along his temple, and even though they did the same folds every single time, your heart skipped a beat when you saw them. The beard that lay flat and smooth around his mouth stretched with his smile, broad and keen. Sincere. Innocent and pure. And his laugh sent a knife right through your belly, melting down inside of you like coffee too hot, letting you feel your shapes and holes and secrets all the way down until you couldn’t breathe until he laughed again. Desperate for it. You wanted to rip it from him and keep it inside of you instead so you could tap into that bliss like an addict. You wanted a button to push to force it out of him so you could hear the sound in your darkest days, using him to turn on the light. 

To make matters worse, he was holding a baby.

He was making you want one. In fact, he was making you want him to put one inside of you. His baby. One of your very own. One with blue eyes that crinkled at the edges like shining cellophane. 

You resisted the pull like a yearling in a harness. You wanted to buck against it and kick it in the teeth. You didn’t want a child. John was always gone - mission after mission - and you weren’t willing to raise a whole person by yourself. You could do it, but you wouldn’t. That wasn’t fair. A child needs their guardian, and when your guardian was the guardian of the world…how could you come first?

So, you boxed it up and put it away in you with the rest of your ghosts. You haunted yourself with it sometimes. When you scrolled through your online purchases of milk and bread, sometimes it would suggest baby formula to add to your cart, as if, subtly suggesting like a mother-in-law, you were missing something important. But, you kept busy. You worked hard, you traveled, you spent time with friends. You loved John dearly, and you craved him more and more every day. You were happy, as happy as anyone should have the right to be. Why should you be entitled to open a box you had no business opening?

But, there it was, down from the attic of your mind again and cracked open in the foyer of your frontal cortex, waiting for you to pluck from it a warm, writhing little bundle that needed you to hold it and kiss it and tell it how to drive a manual transmission. A Janice or an Eric or a Persephone - someone new for the world to put through its horrors. Someone to catch a cold, to have their heart broken, to lose their job. Someone new to put you and John in matching coffins and lower you down into matching holes where you’d be covered and buried in the same place from whence they’d come. Entropy. 

You watched as John crooked his elbow just so, supportive and careful, his massive form suddenly as agile as an arching ballerina, holding the bottle and the towel and the someone new as gently as a leaf holds the dew in the mornings in the spring.

You were wet. Your heart and your womb were fully committed to the bit. Some ancient bacteria that divided for the first time back when you were just primordial soup had optimized you for just this moment. It was lying in wait for John Price to crane his neck down to leave little chirping kisses on the softest pink cheek and then to smile when it garnered its reaction. That instinctual drive revved inside of you when he wiped away a stray drop of milk from a grinning toothless mouth. A mouth that would learn how to give kisses right back one day and beg you for them. 

The way your hands clenched around your arms was going to leave a bruise. 

-------------------------------

“Such a cute lad, aye?” John commented, driving you down the dark road to your home. 

“Gaz sure has his hands full,” you nodded.

“He’ll make it work. It always works itself out, right?” He was suggestive, and you weren’t about to have that.

“If it did, we wouldn’t need the orphanages.”

He was silent. The battle you had just won meant little to the war that raged on in the silence between you.

“I asked Laswell for the hiatus.”

“What?”

“You said that you needed me here. No more away missions. No more black sites. And you said we’d discuss it.”

“I said we might discuss - ”

“No, you said you needed those to happen, and I made them happen. She wrote up the paperwork. When I sign it, I’m here, for good. I’m a full on intel analyst. And it’s a pay raise,” he raised his volume, and his knuckles were white around the steering wheel.

“Okay,” you said.

“Okay? What does that mean?”

“It means okay. We can try, okay?”

“Don’t play with me, pumpkin. I can’t - ”

You put your hand on his thigh and squeezed it, giving him a soft smile. 

“I said okay.”

He drove faster. He barely stopped at stop signs. He parked in the gravel instead of pulling under the carport. He opened your door and nearly pulled you out. 

With his hand at the small of your back, he walked you to the front door, keys jangling loudly in his hand, the tip of the key scraping at the edges of the lock like a dog at the door, clamoring to get in. The door cracked. You were inside before you knew it. The keys fell to the floor and the door slammed shut behind you. John scooped you up and kicked in the panel to your bedroom. He fell on top of you, kissing you roughly, like he had mere minutes to spare. Your blood was rushing, pounding in your ears, and you could feel how heavy his breaths were as his chest pushed and pulled inside of himself.

“John. Jo- Hey, John. Wait - ”

John stopped, his hands stuffed under your dress, fingers looped in your panties, frozen in place like you had paused time itself. He didn’t look up at you. His head stayed down, and he waited for you to do something about it. 

You grabbed his cheeks and forced him to meet your eyes,

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a whisper.

“Please, sweetheart,” John’s eyes held within them a fragile prayer, “Let me give you a baby. I want to see you hold her inside, right here,” he kissed your belly as he raised up your dress, “I want to see you in her face when she smiles and laughs.”

You smiled at him, petting his hair, enjoying his kisses,

“How do you know it’ll be a girl?”

He scoffed, kissing you further down, peeling the panties away as he had first intended, 

“Just let me dream, alright? You said you would try.”

His hot mouth covered your clit and suckled against it with a renewed hunger. You tried to respond,

“Mm, I will, John. We’ll try.”

“We’re going to try right now.” 

His fingers spread you apart and he began to fuck you deeply on his hand, licking you apart at the seams, letting your binds and ties melt like sugar on his tongue, freeing you from the confines of the world around you, ripping you from reality and dragging you with him into his primal wonderland. You could feel his fingers stretching up, deeper than he usually did, feeling around for the soft roundness of the entrance to your womb. He found it and circled around it, as if mapping it for himself, visualizing it and teasing himself with all of its possibilities. It made you squirm, and he sucked harder, cowing you into submission with an orgasm, which you gasped out in shock. You’d been struggling to hold it together since Nova’s baby shower, and you were desperate for relief. That relief hit you like a truck, and you came hard enough to see stars in the dim light of your bedroom.

As soon as John felt you clench around his hand, he fucked you harder, adding a finger and curling them into you, stretching you to fit his thickness. He had his length out and ready at your entrance faster than you thought was physically possible, spitting down onto himself and positioning himself inside your folds, ready to commit. 

Then, for all of his anxious hurry, he stopped, as if he was missing something. He looked at you, concerned and needy, still fully clothed and unable to think straight. He looked lost. You held his hips in your hands and coaxed him forward,

“It’s okay, John. C’mon, let’s try.”

You thought he might break down and cry from the relief that washed over him. It was like you’d pulled a burning arrow from his heart. He sank into you like a stone in a lake, quick and sure, wet and eager. 

“Oh, fuuuuuck!” John shouted. It was loud enough that you wondered briefly about your neighbors. 

He fell on top of you, crawling over you with his hulking arms, prowling up to kiss your neck like a horny teenager, full of the same level of vigor. His thrusts were deep - deeper than usual - as if he was searching out that smoothness of your anatomy, looking for his target. You canted your hips downward to help him find it. When he did, you both groaned for each other. 

"That's it, my sweet girl," he rubbed your clit in gentle circles, sending you back into orbit, "I'm so fuckin' ready to see my baby in you. Fuck! I can't wait."

The way his cock throbbed with each of his thrusts was sending you into a sort of trance. Your pussy felt stuffed, like it was struggling around his fat cock, bending and pulling at its walls to allow him to fit. His kisses were formless and weak, but his hips were merciless in their pounding. The two divergent sensations forced a rift in your mind, and your pleasure stretched to meet his fierce and gentle need. You felt the wave-like tingle of your recent orgasm tumbling in the back of your mind, threatening to rise again to crash upon your shore, growing with each pull of his rocking rhythm. 

"Feel so good," he confessed in your ear, "Letting me give this to you, do this for you. Like heaven, love."

You encouraged the motion of his body with your hands, touching the snapping, ferocious muscles of his spread back, digging your nails into his furry skin when he angled himself just so, casting spell after spell to hypnotize you into pliant submission. Then, he quickened, panting, pleading, whispering his pleas over and over to you or to God, you couldn’t tell. He was making you feel like one and the same. His voice cracked,

"Bloody hell, I can't hold it back. Goddamnit. I'm - ahhh!"

When he filled you, and he damn well filled you, he held himself tightly pressed to your womb’s gate like he would be washed away at sea, gripping your body like a lifeline. He reached beside you for his pillow and shoved it under your hips, groaning and panting as he came down from his high, one-track minded. John kept his cock in you like a seal, holding you there much longer than usual. As you regained your senses and your ability to form words, you looked up at him and asked,

“John, what are you doing?”

“Shh, just wait. I want to make sure it’s there. Has to be deep enough for you, love.”

He kissed you again, using his long tongue to lick all the way into your mouth, still desperate and devout. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was weeks away from your ovulation window. Maybe you would just keep that to yourself.

[booyoungs]

“Over the next few hours you will ingest fat, salt, sugar, protein, bacteria, fungi, various plants and animals, and, at times, entire ecosystems. But I have to beg of you one thing. It's just one. Do not eat. Taste. Savor. Relish. Consider every morsel that you place inside your mouth. Be mindful. But do not eat. Our menu is too precious for that. And look around you. Here we are on this island. Accept. Accept all of it. And forgive. And on that note... food!”

THE MENU (2022) dir. Mark Mylod

[peachesofteal]

That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.

Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:

The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.

268: 38.5 degrees.

Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.

You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.

"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.

His brow furrows above the black mask.

"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.

"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.

"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.

"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."

"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.

"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.

"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.

"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.

"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.

"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."

"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.

“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.

Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.

[mindblowingscience]

One of the most diverse ecosystems on the planet is closer than you think—right inside your mouth. Your mouth is a thriving ecosystem of more than 500 different species of bacteria living in distinct, structured communities called biofilms. Nearly all of these bacteria grow by splitting [or dividing] into two, with one mother cell giving rise to two daughter cells. New research from the Marine Biological Laboratory (MBL) and ADA Forsyth uncovered an extraordinary mechanism of cell division in Corynebacterium matruchotii, one of the most common bacteria living in dental plaque. The filamentous bacterium doesn't just divide, it splits into multiple cells at once, a rare process called multiple fission. The research is published in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Continue Reading.

[shcyc]

¡ LOCKER ROOM — kinktober

MY READMORE IS NOT WORKING I AM SO SORRY

synopsis: locker room sex with msby / schweiden adlers

cw; sub fem! reader, voyeurism!, oral (giving & receiving), fingering, cockwarming, shower sex, vibrator, slight bondage, thigh riding

— MSBY !

> ATSUMU swears he’s never felt better — he wasn’t expecting you to get on your knees between his legs when you said you have a nice surprise for him right after practice!

his breath hitches as you kiss him through his pants, fingers inching up his thighs, leaving the trail you touched hot and burning with desire

this isn't the first time you've sucked him off, and yet it still feels like he's ascending to heaven every single time - probably also because the two of you are openly exposed in the middle of the msby locker room, and that has his adrenaline skyrocketing

> BOKUTO has his thick fingers deep inside your dripping cunt, skirt flipped upwards and tucked into the bands to stop them from obstructing him from what he wants

he’s annoyed that you’re wearing such a short skirt and prancing around his teammates as if it was a free show for all of them, when in fact, it should only be for him

he’s rough, fingers abusing your hole while his other hand wraps around your bare chest, pushing a handful into his mouth, tongue swirling around your perked nipples

> HINATA was the most innocent guy you’ve ever met, never would you have thought you’d be in this position — hands supporting yourself on the sink with your soiled panties stuffed in your mouth, pretty face stained with tears as you stare at the orange-headed man pound into you from the mirror in the msby locker room

he’s told you to “keep it down”, but how could you when he’s stretching you out so fucking good, thick cock grazing every inch of your gummy walls

you tighten around him each time he slips out and pushes back into you, eyelids fluttering with each push and pull, and that has him going even harder than before

> INUNAKI shoves his tongue past your tight ring of muscle, hands roaming all over your body, finally resting on your thigh that has been dangling on his shoulder for the past few minutes

he groans at your taste, at how deliciously sweet you are, and how you’re willing to let him do it right outside the locker room door where his teammates could easily walk out and catch the two of you

the vibrations from him passes right into your core and towards your clit, sending you over the edge after being teased for so long, and you watch as he removes himself from you with that stupid smirk plastered on his face

> MEIAN has you wrapped around him like a koala as he walks around the locker room to do final clean and checks before he closes the gym — only every step he takes has you clenching around him like a vice and he has to warn you to be a “good girl”

you think you might pass out from just cockwarming him, having him buried in you for too long makes everything go numb, and when that happens, everything is much more sensitive

he walks around and does his chores without a care in the world, but you whimpering into his ear and begging him to “just fuck me”, has him putting away the towels and shoving you onto the benches before slamming into your over sensitive hole

> SAKUSA hates the locker room, it’s full of germs and bacteria that he would not want to be exposed to, but when you come running to him asking if you could shower in the locker rooms because you got drenched in the rain, that has his mind reeling

he’s pressing the shower head onto your clit, making sure the water is hitting directly at the sweet spots before turning up the water power — and almost immediately, you feel your orgasm approach

your legs are shaking as you cum, body limp against him, his broad frame making sure you won’t fall to the ground during your high — and sakusa thinks that he has to see this beautiful sight one more time, even if it means staying with the germs for a few more minutes

— SCHWEIDEN ADLERS !

> HOSHIUMI can be either vicious or nice, and today, he’s feeling vicious! your boyfriend wants to see you stuttering, panting and begging him to stop the little machine buzzing inside of you

but how could he? not when your grip on his arm tightens while you try your best to make conversation with his dense teammates — he thinks that you’re so cute, holding onto him like your life depends on it

he laughs when you drag him out the locker room with all your strength, finally falling on the ground as he squats down to tease you, pushing the level up so that you cum around his toy!

> KAGEYAMA didn’t know he would be into bondage, especially not in the locker rooms, but when you show him the trick that you’ve been trying for a while now, his heartbeat races

he has you pressed up against the metal closets, making you support yourself on your elbows as he pushes himself into you — the warmth engulfing him, and he swears he will cum right now if it wasn’t for his need to see you struggling to release yourself

you’re clawing at the cool solid, desperately needing to grab ahold of something to ground yourself from his harsh fucking, you’re flipped around in and instant, one leg now wrapped around his waist as he groans into your neck at how good you feel

> USHIJIMA he’s so stoic and dense all the time so you thought you’d tease him! sitting on his thigh as you press kisses onto his neck, hoping that he’d break character for once and do something scandalous with you in a risky place

and you got what you wanted! he’s pushing your hips back and forth on his lap, his mouth now on your neck, teeth grazing your skin occasionally to give you love bites

you’re a whimpering mess at this point, hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself as you let the overwhelming sensation take over, giving up on trying to hide the noises at this point

[sturn-saturn]

just this once

pairing; fem!reader x bf!matt

warnings: cooch eating <3

a/n: im LITERALLY writing this as im in class LMAOO sorry if it sucks. writing a fanfic in class is crazy.

one thing you and the triplets knew was school fucking sucked. it sucked absolute balls. your dream since you were younger was to be in the medical field and here you are. you're currently in med school majoring in nursing but thankfully this biology course is offered online.

you woke up this morning absolutely exhausted but this class was only 90 minutes so you weren't complaining too much. you were just hoping this would be the quickest 90 minutes of your life.

matt wakes up pretty early as well but his brothers on the other hand love sleeping in. matt usually stayed in the living room while you're in your virtual class. matt lets you use his desk, which gives you the space to focus and just get through the class.

you're currently on the call and you were just exhausted, dozing off, staring off, picking at your cuticles, twirling your hair, you name it. your elbow was on the desk and your head was leaning on your hand until you hear a creak.

you turn to your right and you see your boyfriend peeking through the door. you give him a deadpan look because he knows how easily distracted you are especially when he's around.

luckily your professor doesn't mind if your camera is off as long as you're participating in class. "matt, what are you doing?"

"i'm bored, hungry, and theres nothing on netflix." he explains walking further into his room.

"babe, you know i have a class."

"i know, i know." he whispers walking to you and kissing your head. "are you almost done? i'm hungry."

"god we really need to get you and your brothers into a cooking class."

"honey, i know how to cook. i just choose not to cause i love when you cook, you put so much love into it."

"oh you know how to cook, huh? that salmon you tried to cook the other day says otherwise." you laugh. "i'll be done soon don't worry."

"but i'm hungry now." he whines. "you know what, fuck it."

matt pulls the desk chair away from his desk and sneaks under so hes on his knees facing you.

"m-matt. what are you doing i'm in class!" you yell.

"cameras off, i'm hungry, i'm taking advantage of this." he smirks looking up at you. “you need to keep quiet, sweetheart. can you do that for me?”

“yes.” you breathe out. matt begins to pull your panties down and kisses your inner thigh softly while holding eye contact.

your professor was talking at this point and the only thing you heard come out of his mouth was living organisms. “ms. y/l/n could you explain further?”

“fuck” you mouth looking at matt.

he pulls away from between you and gives you a smirk. “well ms. y/l/n? explain further.”

you unmute the zoom call and do everything you can to refrain from moaning. “a living organism is anything that has life and consists of cells as its basic unit of organization like t-trees, animals, algae, b-bacteria, as well as humans of course.”

“correct, thank you ms.y/l/n.” your professor announces.

you go back on mute and you look down at matt and spread your legs wider to give him access. he taps your legs so you can put your feet on the arms of his chair.

“you’re such a good girl.” matt whispers.

“mmmm” you hum

“and…you…taste…so…good.” he says in between kisses to your clit.

“matt, quit teasing.”

“say please.” with a deadpan look.

“matt, please quit teasing.”

with that, be inserts a finger and your head falls back into the chair. he trusts in and out until you’re a mess. “what you didn’t realize was you and your professor were the only ones left in the call.

“y/n, are there any questions you had for today?” you professor asks.

you almost jump out of your seat when you heard your name from the screen in front of you.

you quickly unmute yourself, “no, professor, great lecture today, looking forward to next week!” you ramble on before you end the call.

“fuck i’m looking forward to getting inside you. get on the bed, sweetheart.” you boyfriend says with a husky voice.

tag list:

@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @khalei-20 @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex witch! Could you recommend some resources for STI prevention/sensible measures for queer sex? I feel like all I know is use condom when penis in vagina and I'm wondering what other measures are sensible for oral sex/naked grinding/hands touching multiple genitals, especially since I'm considering having sex with a few people in a fun slutty way. I'm also wondering if there's a good alternative to condoms if the penis isn't hard cos I think condoms don't stay on very well in that circumstance. Thank you!

hi anon,

regardless of what body parts or toys you're using to have sex, the name of the game is preventing the transmission of fluids (and fecal matter, if your butt is in play).

penis or dildo in a vagina, anus, mouth = condoms, either external (made to be put on thing being inserted) or internal (designed to sit inside the vagina or anus). note: do not use outtie and innie condoms together; they will not like the friction.

hand or finger in an anus or vaginal = medical gloves or finger cots.

mouth on anus or vulva = dental dam.

protective barriers change for each partner and each orifice; we don't want bacteria from one hole finding its way into another one.

if an external condom isn't a great option, an internal condom (often called a female condom, boo hiss) often is! they can be put in place hours in advance, and work exactly the same way. fluids go in, condom catches them all, and then you yoink it out and move on!

[lost-in-fandoms]

I have no idea where this came from and where it's going. Probably nowhere. No thoughts, just vibes.

cw: implied past character death (i'll put something more specific in the tags)

The street looks the same as when Daniel had left. Same cracked pavement, same uneven sidewalk, only on the left. Even the washed out weeds, insisting on growing where they shouldn't have, look the same.

The fence on the right is maybe a little less red, a little more broken, but the hedge on the left is still cut in the same strictly rectangular shape, so dense you can't see the garden on the other side. His feet seem to remember just how many steps it takes to go from the intersection to the end of the cul-de-sac, stopping exactly where the old bus stop was.

The gate is different. It's jarring, in the sameness of it all, to see something so starkly changed. It used to be white, with rusted and mossy spots all over, a number of bars Daniel had never bothered to count. Nothing like the tall, solid black gate he's looking at now.

He just wanted to look at the garden, at the path, at the front door. He wanted to see if the hydrangeas had survived all these years, if the grass was overgrown, if the multi-colored window on the side of the door was still intact. If the rosemary, without someone carefully keeping it contained, had escaped its flowerbed and invaded the nearby hibiscus.

He had wanted to see if there was any part of him still clinging to the living room windows, to the sun-warmed bricks.

Now, all he can see are the second store windows, all curtains drawn, and the new solar panels on the garage roof.

He shouldn't have come.

There is an ache eating away at his chest, bacteria freed from a petri dish and given his whole insides to feast on, lid broken and thrown away by the first step he had taken out of the car.

Suddenly, as if yanked from the past he's both begging for and resisting, a child's laughter rings through the hot summer air, followed by a gleeful high pitched scream.

He shouldn't have come.

And yet, his feet are stuck on the pavement, and his mind is stuck in the nowhere place that is half in the present and half in a past that no longer exists.

There's another voice in the garden, too low to make out the words, but clearly belonging to a man. Daniel can hear a sliding door open and then close, the sound discordant against his sliding-door-free memories.

He should go.

The tide is already threatening to fill his lungs. The air smells the same, but somehow turns to rot when it reaches the back of his throat.

There's a high beeping sound, then a click, then the smaller gate to the side, the one they always needed to unstuck in the winter, now replaced too, opens.

Before he can stop himself, Daniel gasps, heart jumping in his throat, hope building like a cursed bubble. He's not quick enough to pop it himself, and it explodes right in front of his face, soapy water stinging his eyes, when the man who steps through it is a complete stranger.

The air is shimmering with heat, cicadas' screams swelling, and for a second Daniel thinks: it's not real.

Then the stranger fully exits the gate, square jaw set and eyebrows furrowed, and closes it behind him with a clank.

"Can I ask you who you are and what you are doing in front of my house?" No hellos.

There's an accent there, a rasp cutting through some words, a lisp making itself known into others. A frosty threat thickly slathered on top, icing on an uncut cake, knife into Daniel's hand to slice the tension in the air with.

His brain, still clawing its way back to the present, offers his tongue no words, half open mouth empty. The man raises his eyebrows, crosses his arms. Daniel knows with crystal clear certainty he's going to have the cops called on him very soon, or he's going to be punched. He thinks of the kid laughing and can't find any blame in either option.

"Sorry," he finally manages, stiff vocal cords striding together. The man doesn't look impressed.

Daniel forcefully pulls his brain together, connecting neurons like he's jump starting a car, stuffing memory boxes closed.

"I used to live here, years ago." He tears his eyes away, wishing once again he could see the hydrangeas. His mom had loved the hydrangeas, even when she cursed them every year for being needy fuckers. "When I was a kid."

When he looks back, the man doesn't look quite as tense, something absurdly like recognition in his blue eyes.

"I was in the area, and thought I would check it out," he offers lamely. Just sort of a lie, but he doesn't owe his bleeding soul to this stranger.

"I bought it four months ago," the man says, and Daniel feels weirdly chastised, as if he should have come by sooner.

"I know. I signed the deal." And then spent one whole day in bed, cradling ghosts in his arms underneath the blankets.

The man tilts his head appraisingly, lips slightly pursed. Daniel doesn't know what he's being considered for, but tries his best not too look to lost, or too insane, or too dangerous. He doesn't even know why. Maybe just to avoid the cops.

"There was a picture, in the living room," the man slowly says. Daniel immediately wishes he would stop talking, but his brain is gone again, unable to give words, too busy looking in his memories for the framed photograph he knows the man is talking about. There were four people in the picture, and Daniel had mourned it for years, forgotten on the shelf of the emptied dish cupboard.

Suddenly, fierce protectiveness surges inside him, hands twitching with the need to go back, to hide it from stranger's eyes, to cradle it to his chest so hard he can carve a space for it between his ribs.

"I know you are saying the truth, because you are in it. Smaller." The stranger's lips curve up a bit at his own little joke, but Daniel's don't.

Yeah, of course he had been in it, smiling his still-crooked smile, flash glinting on his braces, curls squished under a baseball cap. His dad's hand on his shoulder.

His insides, all eaten by the fugitive bacteria, are burning, poison seeping from his bloodstream.

"Yeah." He refuses to elaborate. He shouldn't have come. "I'll be going."

He doesn't want to go. He shouldn't have come, but now that he has, he doesn't want to go. Walking away once again feels like something that could kill him.

"You could come back, tomorrow morning, when my daughter isn't here."

Daniel doesn't know what his face is doing, too many feelings slamming into him all at once. He hopes the only one the other man can see is surprise.

"Why?" He shouldn't ask. He should just say okay. He should just say no. He should turn around and walk away, and keep walking and walking until his legs hurt as much as the traitorous hope biting at him again.

"For the picture. And to see the house, if you want." The man says it as if this whole conversation is a test, and Daniel is on the verge of failing. As always, he doesn't know the correct answer. And yet, he knows there's only one he can give.

"Okay." He nods, feeling like he's jumping off the boat without checking for sharks first. Then belatedly, "thank you."

"10 am. If you are a serial killer, I know how to box." The man smiles, as if it was a joke. Daniel doesn't need his full brain capacities to know he's one hundred percent serious.

"I'm not." He almost adds which is exactly what a serial killer would say, but now that the stranger has offered, he does want to come back, doesn't want to ruin his chance with a dumb joke.

"Good."

The man doesn't say goodbye before turning around and pulling a bunch of keys out of his shorts pocket, opening the small gate and walking through, closing it behind himself without a second glance towards Daniel.

As if broken out of a spell, his feet can move again, and he finds himself walking away before he can even make the conscious decision to, his body wanting to hurry along the hours, to shorten the time between now and tomorrow, 10 am.

He barely looks at the road, at the cracked pavement and uneven sidewalk. Impressed on his retinas, the flutter of a curtain on the second floor, and the new name on the doorbell.

Max Verstappen.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O says this to main 10 Skeletons

" Ok, I need you to bite my hand real quick, don't ask why"

Undertale Sans - He's doing it but he's so gentle you barely feel it. He doesn't want to hurt you and he's a bit uncomfortable. He really just did it because he loves you.

Undertale Papyrus - No???? This is a weird thing to ask people??? Bite yourself instead if you really need to, he certainly won't encourage this activity.

Underswap Sans - No hesitation, he chomps your hand without letting you have the time to finish your sentence. Uh. Was he that eager to bite you? That sounds suspicious.

Underswap Papyrus - He immediately changes the topic and acts like he didn't hear you. He doesn't want to bite you? Why would you even ask him that?

Underfell Sans - Only your hand? Damn, baby, you're missing out. He gives you a shark smile before chomping your hand, very excited. He won't stop staring at your butt while wiggling his eye sockets at you for the rest of the day though.

Underfell Papyrus - He is confused, but he does it if it makes you happy??? He's not sure what this was about, though, and he's agitated all day because his brain can't understand what happened. Normal people don't ask to be bitten???

Horrortale Sans - He straight says no, and he's a bit upset you asked him when you know it's something that can trigger him. Find other weird occupations, please.

Horrortale Papyrus - He does it to please you, but he's very uncomfortable and even a bit agitated afterward. He hated every second of it and he hated he felt pressured to do it when he perfectly knew having human skin in his mouth would make him sick. He prefers to stay alone for a few hours.

Swapfell Sans - He's not doing it before you explain why. It's not up to discussion. He doesn't like doing things when he doesn't know what they are for.

Swapfell Papyrus - Oh sure! He bites your hand, and then he bites your arm, and then he pins you down and suddenly bites your neck like a vampire. Sigh. You can't ask him anything, can you?

Fellswap Gold Sans - Ew, hell no. He's not putting your filthy human bacteria inside his mouth, he doesn't want to die. He keeps looking at you with a disgusted expression all day long, to the point you start feeling offended.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He takes your hand, then light kisses your hand, and then pets your hand. And... That's it. What? He's not going to hurt you, that's bad!

[breakfastteatime]

Today's Fallen Order request is Biohazard for @ledeni-tm

“No.”

Cal stands at the bottom of the ramp and stares up at Greez, haloed in the ship’s internal lighting. “Huh?”

Greez points, specifically at the poncho Cal as clutched in his hand. “No more. Not a single one. By the gods, Cal, I can smell the damn thing from here.”

Cal holds it up to demonstrate the very funky pattern it has. Best of all, it’s a nice, thick wool. Once it’s clean and dry, it’ll be a favourite for sure. “I need it, Greez. It’s mine.”

“I understand and accept that five years on Bracca has ruined your sense of smell, but me and Cere? Ours is fine. And as such, we can smell that little poncho selection of yours no matter what we do. So, the following are your options – get rid of them all and we’ll find you a nice new one in a store that doesn’t sell actual biohazards.”

“Not happening.”

BD backs him up with a rude squeal.

Hands held up in a pacifying gesture, Greez waits for silence. “Or you stay out there and do some laundry.”

The sky overhead is thick with the promise of a snowstorm. Cal’s hands are cold and stiff from his journey across Zeffo. He’s tired and hungry, thoughts of dinner getting him through the lengthy journey back to the ship. He doesn’t particularly want to stay outside, but he also refuses to give up a single one of his ponchos. They’re his. All of them. He found them, and sure, maybe some are coated in mildew, and others have a smell he can’t quite get rid of, but none of them are actual biohazards…

…are they?

“Are they?” he asks BD.

BD’s scans suggest a couple might host bacteria unsafe for most organics, and while he has no capacity to smell, scans would indicate unpleasant odours would be a side effect of said bacteria.

“Fine,” Cal says. “I guess it’s laundry day.”

Greez’s ominous laugh echoes down from the ship. “I knew you’d say that.” He returns with a large container (honestly, it’s large enough to stuff Greez himself into). “Fill this with water. I’ve got various detergents to clean these things up.”

“I do wash them!” Cal insists.

“With appropriate laundry detergents, or with soap when you shower? Or does going for a swim in a poncho count as washing them?”

Opting for tactical silence, Cal places the new poncho into the container and plods onto the ship with it. He fills the container in the shower as it won’t fit under the sink, then lugs it back outside. He places it down and returns to the engine room to fetch all his ponchos. He puts them all inside.

“Now, watch a master at work.” Greez adds a blend of detergents and something called fabric conditioner to the water. It all sounds like a waste of credits to Cal. Greez also adds an entire bottle of disinfectant and gives the whole barrel a mix with a stick. “We’re gonna let this stew for a while before you heft it all back inside and stick them in the machine to spin. After that, we’ll bring them back out here to air dry. Might take a while, given how cold it is, but it will help with the stench.”

“Are they really that bad?”

“Worse.”

“I’m sorry, Greez.”

Greez looks up from his stirring. “Why do you always make me feel so bad about stuff, even when you’re in the wrong and I’m definitely in the right?”

BD suggests it’s a Jedi thing. Cal smiles. “I didn’t mean to,” he offers.

“See? There you go doing it again. Listen, kid, honestly, I wish you wouldn’t bring back stuff you find on these planets. I’m sure we can find you something during a supply run. However, I get that you like them and therefore you gotta meet me midway – keep ‘em, but clean ‘em. Properly. None of your wash your clothes while you shower or swim nonsense. And if you’re taking a breath to tell me that’s how it was done on Bracca, I do not wanna know.”

Cal breathes out and closes his mouth.

“You don’t have to live like you’re a credit away from financial ruin. We’re not multimillionaires, but we’re not broke. And if you don’t know how to use the machine, ask. I’m not gonna judge.”

“Thanks, Greez.”

“And maybe don’t stuff wet clothes into a box under your bed.”

“But – ”

“Ah! What did I say about Bracca?”

“You don’t wanna know.”

“Atta boy.”

[snowyvoid]

im still on my hlvrai is a haunted house bullshit. had time to think about it. now i must propose the idea of the game being alive and vaguely rotten or infected by the science team/the player.

also thinking about the idea of the science team being a virus of sort feeding off of the player's sentience. with all the player slowly becoming less and less aware that he is playing a videogame n whatever, while the science team becomes more "human" and aware.

hey what if black mesa and the game are the same thing and they are collectively a living being (think of a siphonophore) and the science team are its teeth/mouth/stomach. and it needs sentience to keep living. and the science team go and find players to become friends with and feed off of. and in turn the players get to become part of the organism. like a really shitty symbiotic relationship. and this is not to say any of the creatures in this situation are in the wrong, but id like to study that aspect too; i just really like making not very aware things have to deal with being alive.

haunted houses as concepts are weird and wobbly and the best definition i can give is a container with something else that is hostile inside of it. because, if you really think about it, human bodies "house" hostile bacteria that attack the good bacteria, house organs, etc etc just a like generic horror movie haunted house "houses" both ghosts and humans and its own rooms. and the rooms might be the hostile thing, not the ghosts or the humans. the house itself may be hostile to the things inside of it. there is an importance in knowing what each thing thinks of eachother. hey can somebody tell why is my basement breathing and pulsating and if it is a physical manifestation of my houses feelings