#dude built like a wisdom tooth

[dopeepidemic]

Inktober #25: Dangerous

[totem-but-shark]

The differences and similarities between c and Q foolish is always so interesting to look at

They both have an ambition, though that came later on for cfoolish, and a tendency to make connections. Obviously that desire to build and create massive structures is shared as well

There are big differences though. A massive part of cfoolish was his pacifism and his struggle to find balance, which contrasts with with a chaos thrill seeking qfoolish

Cfoolish also isolated himself more. He deliberately built his home further away and harder to get to while foolish built his home right at spawn.

They’re both fairly well aware of cycles of violence and revenge, and act accordingly.

I also like how foolish almost always builds his homes by water, which is a deliberate choice by ccfoolish, as a throughline

it's SOOOOO interesting!!! there's so many similarities and parallels between the two whilst still feeling like fresh takes on the same base, uniquely shaped by their individual smps lore and experiences but the biggest question that prompts for me is "what exactly MADE them different?". If we consider that in a way they're different spins on essentially the same core character of Foolish the immortal shark totem was there some specific event or circumstance or fundamental difference in their hypothetically separate existences that caused them to split off as they seemingly have.

Where it's easy to spot the similarities when they're carved from the same stone, their differences run just as deep. These are characters with starkly different worldviews if you look close enough.

It's something i've thought about a lot and the conclusion I keep coming back to over and over is that thier defining difference is their relationship with or proximity to godhood.

They're two very very different immortals, Cfoolish was a god/demigod, he spent his life believing in his status as something more amongst mortals and this wasn't truly challenged until he found himself bleeding red red red slaughtered at the red banquet. So much of his character was defined by his past divinity, the grace he fought tooth and nail to regain. Remnants of a darker crueler past, bloodstained hands atoned for with 100 lifetimes of pacifism. Beautiful hollow empty temples. I feel there is a clumsiness to cfoolish, having to learn to be a person after a forever of naive arrogance that could only belong to one who thinks themself a god and afraid like a child when the illusion breaks.

Whilst our knowledge of qfoolishs history is more limited, from the little we've been given he feels far more human. Which might be ironic for an immortal shark dude but there are no stories of bloodlust, worship or great powers beyond comprehension. Only the far more tame, almost domestic tidbits about bumping into bad and shenanigans together over the centuries. In my mind he might've been an immortal traveler walking the earth and doing as he pleased, not as a god but a couple thousand years old regular guy living his normal life just for a very very very long time. Qbad and Qfoolish carry a sense of wisdom to them unique to their qsmp iterations, more traveled and emotionally older than previous versions, like they've seen it all before. I see it in the way they speak and talk with one another and generally interact with the world around them and whilst it's likely a matter of both ccbad and ccfoolish expanding their stage presence and refining their RP but it really does add another layer of depth to these characters.

All together there simply isn't this same connection to divinity, the qsmp world is generally quite detached from religious structure. Maybe qfoolish might've been as powerful as cfoolish or had the capacity to be but never sharpened that aspect of himself pulling him further and further away from cfoolishs acts of wrath that became such an integral key turning point for his character. Qfoolish instead growing comfortable in casual eternity. Could qfoolish never have become a totem of death? How would that have effected his character compared to Cfoolish? Maybe not, it's extremely hard to judge how powerful qfoolish might be with a wiped memory and the possibility of federation power limiters/magic suppressors. Before getting on that train he could've been as powerful as cfoolish in his prime however with the information we have we'll simply never know. I think it's unlikely though, if just by his demeanour. Regardless of qfoolishs theoretical power the qfoolish we know is no god, there is no worship, never hailed as something higher. He's simply himself.

There's this odd dissonance between them especially in their relationship with death. Cfoolish viewed death as something he was excluded from, had power over and only saw in the lifeless eyes of others. Until he didn't. Qfoolish knows death is natural and equally inevitable. He fears it too of course though in the way one might fear the tide, he builds sand castles on the shore knowing they'll get washed away by the morning but can't help but bask in the sun anyway. Qfoolish walks among the people and knows you don't have to die yourself for death to hurt.

[damiensdemon]

The Perfect Patient

Words: 4.8k

Summary: One-shot first-person drabble about having an unfortunate dental-fetish and a hot dentist.

"As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it."

Warnings: Smut, Dental Kink, Praise Kink, Horny Dentistry, Light Bondage, Light Bloodplay, Tooth Extraction, Needles, Transmasc Protag

The longer you put off something important, the harder it is to get it done. Like weeding a garden or telling a secret, sometimes the mental emphasis you put on a task can make it infinitely harder, as it gets more time to grow roots in your mind.

In your case, you haven’t been to the dentist’s office in many, many years. Currently, you’re sitting in the waiting room of a local office, waiting to be called back. The cozy clinic isn’t nearly as sterile-feeling as you remember your childhood office being, but that doesn’t do much to soothe your nerves.

The door across the room from you opens, and you jump at the sound. Luckily for you, the soft-faced young man who steps out is too engrossed in his clipboard to notice your fear. His brown eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles as he calls your name, “We’re ready for you, if you wanna head back.”

“Y-yes, thank you…” You mumble as politely as you can, quickly collecting your things and following him into the office.

His cheery grin persists as he shuts the door behind you, then leads you off down a hallway. After a couple of turns, he stops in front of a strange looking machine mounted to the wall.

“How are you feeling today?” He asks pleasantly, double-checking his clipboard as he begins messing with something behind a little divider in the room.

“Fine! A little nervous... Um… How are you?” You ask, sliding your thumbs under the straps of your backpack. Nervous tick.

“Pretty swell.” He grins, then motions to the chair under the arm of the machine. “My name is Jamie, and I’m the hygienist on duty today. Since you haven’t been seen for a while, we’re gonna take a quick x-ray. This is just gonna take a second, if you don’t mind taking a seat for me.”

“O-oh, of course.” You sit down in the chair, holding your spine stiffly. Jamie steps around you, then slides a heavy, weighted bib over your head. The weight is oddly comforting as it settles against your shoulders.

He walks you through the steps of the x-ray patiently, and while Jamie keeps up an easy chatter. Despite his best efforts, you can’t help but get more and more anxious as the appointment goes on.

After he takes the bitewing out of your mouth and lifts the weighted vest off of you, you finally ask him something that you'd wanted to since you first realized you needed an appointment. “What’s the dentist like?”

“Doctor Langford? He’s a sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” He shrugs, waiting for you to put your backpack back on before motioning for you to follow him. As you walk, he adds, “All his patients seem to love him, as long as he’s sitting down.”

You give Jamie a confused look. He catches it, then explains, “Oh. He’s really tall. He’s kinda got, uh, gentle-giant vibes, y’know?”

“Ooh, I see.” You mumble, letting yourself wander along behind him toward a dental treatment room. Your friend, who’d recommended you to Dr. Langford, had expressed the same sentiment. Though, they'd described him as 'dark and handsome' in addition to 'tall'.

As you turn into a small room with dark blue walls, Jamie goes on. “His daughter thinks he’s the best. She’s so little compared to him. And, I mean, compared to his ex-wife, I can see why she chose him over her. I have no idea why he’s still single, or why he was even with that woman in the first-... um…” He caught himself, clearing his throat abruptly. “...Yeah. Anyways. Take a seat whenever.”

Jamie nodded toward the chair in the middle of the room, with a dental engine built into one of the armrests. The metal tray beside it contained a few tools that you weren’t quite familiar with, but just the sight of them made you feel…

“So, I’m gonna clean your teeth, and the doctor will be in to check you out as soon as I’m done. Do you want mint or bubblegum flavored toothpaste?”

Stiffly, you force yourself to settle back into the chair. “... Bubblegum, please.” 

“Cool.” He said, pulling his medical mask over his nose and putting on a fresh pair of gloves. You have to turn away as he gets prepped, to keep the butterflies in your stomach from crawling their way up your throat.

“... Man, you got it bad, huh?” He asks with an unmistakable glint in his eyes.

“H-- Ghk… What?” You splutter, face flushing instantly.

“You’ve got like, dentophobia right? A fear of dental-stuff?”

You nod a little too quickly. “Yeah! I totally do. I'm super freaked out by all the, uh, mouth stuff. Maybe we should just skip the cleaning."

"I mean, we could, but the dentist is still gonna need to look in your mouth. And, uh… It won't hurt or anything, I promise."

"I'm not really worried about pain." You say with a nervous laugh, pulling on the strings of your hoodie.

Jamie scoots his stool up next to your seat, then puts his hand on your arm. He squeezes gently, waiting for you to relax.

"... Okay. Let's get this over with." You sigh, twisting the strings around your fingers in a self-soothing gesture.

He pats your arm happily, then picks up the brush connected to the chair. "You're a brave man, my dude. Okay, I'll be quick and gentle, promise."

You give a little nod and open your mouth for him. Jamie shifts into a more professional façade as he turns the brush on and begins cleaning your teeth.

Unsurprisingly, the effect on you is immediate. You have to drop the strings as your hands begin to shiver. Instead, you grip the armrests tightly. As your face burns hot once more, you steal a glance at the young man next to you. Jamie is, respectfully, keeping his eyes focused on your mouth, rather than your uncomfortable expression. … You have to keep yourself from thinking about that too much.

As his gloves fingers brush your jaw to keep it open properly, you find yourself wishing that you did have dentophobia. In reality, fear had almost nothing to do with the pounding of your heart. Rather, you’ve been avoiding this appointment because of your attraction to it.

“... Alright, we’re done with the cleaning! Want some water?” Jamie chirps, setting down the electric brush and offering you a small cup. You nod gratefully, taking a sip and swishing for a moment before spitting into the little sink he’d pushed closer to you.

“Is that it, then?” You ask hesitantly.

“Not quite. I’ve gotta floss ya, and check for any left-over nasties.” He says, swapping to a fresh pair of gloves. Idly, your eyes flick to the tray beside your chair. A container of floss sits innocuously beside an array of sharp implements. Jamie laughs quietly, “Uh, don’t worry. Those won’t hurt, either. Unless… you haven’t been flossing.”

Shamefully, you shake your head.

“Gotta get on that shit. Can’t have you getting gum disease. Then you’ll have to come here more often.” He teased, scooting up closer. “Alright, sit back, let’s do this.”

Somehow, you kept your cool through the remainder of the cleaning. By the time your gums had stopped bleeding, Jamie had already cleaned you up and left to fetch the dentist.

Your anxiety barely has time to spike before an absolute mountain of a human being enters the room. He has to duck his head to avoid bumping his head on the door frame. Despite the warm smile on his face as he approaches you, his intimidation factor is massive.

“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Doctor Langford, but you can call me Gabriel.” He says, extending a hand to you.

With your heart in your throat, you reach out to shake it. God, his hand is huge compared to yours. Shakily, you introduce yourself, and can only pray that you don’t sound as terrified as you feel.

“Pleasure to meet you. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your x-ray…” He says, folding himself into the chair Jamie had left beside you. He holds up a sheet of film, and points to a place behind your molars. “Your wisdom teeth are beginning to come in. As one would expect of a young man of your age... Now, I can’t remove those today, but you can schedule an appointment for that later.”

You nod along, but can’t really focus on what he’s telling you. Gabriel speaks with a soothing, deep tone, and a slight accent that you can’t quite place. … Australian, perhaps?

"Alright, I'll just do a quick examination of your teeth, and then we can get you out of here." He says with a smile, turning around to grab a fresh pair of gloves.

You swallow hard, watching him pull his latex gloves into place with a snap. No wedding ring, your stupid-awful-monkey-brain whispers. You tell it, politely, to sit the fuck back. 

"Can you open for me?" Gabriel asks gently. Almost embarrassingly quickly, you part your lips and let him look into your mouth.

Even with a mask covering half of his face, you remain very aware of how close he is to you. You can feel his presence looming over you as he adjusts a light to see inside your oral cavity.

He watches you with sharp, attentive eyes. Softly, he hums, then picks up a small mouth mirror and slides it into your mouth.

"Ah, excuse me…" He mutters, lifting his hand and touching your molar with his--

An embarrassing squeak leaves your throat, and he immediately retracts. If he registered the true nature of that noise, he doesn't make it obvious. "Oh. Pardon me. Are you alright?"

Your heart hammers in your ears as you nod. "I-I'm fine! I just, got overwhelmed."

"Ah, I see." He replies, taking off his gloves casually. "Your teeth look quite healthy, but you do have a small cavity in one of your molars."

"... What?" You mumble numbly. Oh fuck, oh shit--

"If you have an extra hour, we can fill that today. Does that sound alright with you?” His tone borders on velvety. Is he doing that on purpose? … No, of course not. He's a dentist, this is his job.

He remains silent and attentive, waiting for you to reply. You nod quickly, snapping yourself out of your thoughts. “... Oh. Yes! Of course, let’s… do that. Get it out of the way. Haha.”

“Wonderful. Jamie will get everything prepared for us, and I’ll be back shortly. Hold tight.” He says, rising to his feet and giving you an approving nod as he exits the room.

Shit. Goddamn it. He knows, he has to.

No sooner has that thought passed through your mind before Jamie pokes his head back in. The smug grin on his face tells you that he has instantly read you for filth.

“Shut up.” You bury your face in your hands, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

The hygienist has to duck back out of the room to laugh, then enters and shuts the door behind him. “So… Anything you wanna share with me, young man?”

Laughing gas, as you’ve discovered, has a strange smell. It’s vaguely sweet, like Jamie had told you, but there’s also a distinctive metallic scent, and perhaps a hint of rubber. Though, maybe that’s the mask strapped over your nose.

“Is it kicking in yet?” He asks, setting something down on the tray out of your line of sight.

“I’m not sure. Maybe?” You say, leaning your head back against the headrest. “I feel… comfortable, I guess. As comfortable as I can right now, at least.”

“That’s good. It shouldn’t take much longer.” He assures you, then glances back at the door. “Just, uh, try not to flirt with Doctor Langford too much when he comes in here, okay?”

“I’m not planning on it.” You say, rolling your eyes. “I don’t want my new dentist to ban me. I’d like to come back for checkups later.”

Jamie rubs the back of his neck, “It's not that he'd be uncomfortable, I think… But, the poor guy gets flustered real easy, and--"

Behind him, the door opens and shuts  effectively ending the conversation. You can’t turn your head much, but you can hear Jamie and Doctor Langford having a quiet conversation about your procedure. With a nod, and a "Be good!", Jamie takes a clipboard from Gabriel’s hands and walks out the door. Just like that, you’re alone with the dentist once more.

The stool beside you creaks as Gabriel gracefully lowers onto it. He addresses you gently, “As Jamie already explained, this is going to be quick and simple. After the local anesthetic kicks in, you may feel pressure, but you won’t feel any pain."

He leans forward slightly, catching your gaze. "... Jamie mentioned to me that you’ve been feeling some anxiety about your visit today, is that correct?”

You suck in a deep breath through your nose, and in an instant, a wave of something hits you. It isn’t quite the same sensation as you being high, really, this is more of an out-of-body experience.

Why were you even feeling anxious, anyway? “I was. But, I’m feeling much better now.” You reply, shrugging. 

“Oh?" He tilts his head. The picture of innocent curiosity. "May I ask what helped you relax? Beside the nitrous oxide, of course.”

You rack your brain. Well, when he came in just now, you felt more excited than scared. So, you tell him, “You, actually.”

“... Well, thank you.” He grins, laughing kindly. “I have a few patients with dentophobia, and it seems to help them to talk with me before procedures. Would you prefer that we have some extra consultation time in the future? Assuming you need it, of course.”

As he speaks, your eyes shut for just a moment. That warm, comfortable sensation floats through you… As your eyes flutter back open, that open and honest expression on his face just makes you melt. Why were you even afraid of this guy, anyways?

“I don’t have dentophobia.”

“Oh? … Then, may I ask you what specifically had been bothering you?” He asks, resting his forearm against your armrest.

“I have…” You take another breath, trying to collect yourself enough to find the right words. “... um… I have a d-... dental fetish��?”

“... A dental what?” He asks incredulously, those beautiful eyes going wide in… amusement? “D-did I mishear you there, or--”

“No, I’m serious. I have a huge kink for dental-stuff. All kinds of medical stuff, really.” You blurt. He blinks, then leans his stubbly chin against his palm. Taking that as a sign to go on, you explain, “Y’know, examinations, bondage stuff, blood-play, injections, even roleplay… Oh! And doctors are just, like, really hot to me. I like a dad who knows his way around a person’s body, y'know... And the authority, Jesus Christ…”

While you ramble, the dentist moves from being surprised to intrigued. By the end of your confession, he’s fully settled in, and smiling broadly. “Very interesting. Should I assume you mean me, then?”

“Oh, definitely. You’re super my type.” You giggle, grinning right back at him. “Handsome, sweet, intimidating… And your coat looks great on you.”

“You really think so?”

You nod, and your eyes sluggishly slide over his broad torso. He follows the movement of your eyes, and the tips of his ears flush pink.

After a moment of consideration, the dentist rises to his feet and crosses to the door. You feel your heart drop as you assume the worst, but it picks right back up as you hear the lock click.

In a beat, he’s back at your side, now looming over you with a syringe from the tray. The needle is long, glinting in the light above you. You can’t see his face clearly through the glare, but you can tell he’s pulled his medical mask up.

“Open your mouth.”

Without a thought, you do. He cups your jaw with his free hand, sliding his latex-covered thumb over your front teeth. The digit glides over your saliva-slick gums, gently pushing up your lip over your molars.

“Hold still,” He warns, leaning in close as he slides the cold steel into your gums and injects you with… something. After an uncomfortable pinch, he pulls the needle out and massages the area with his thumb again. You whine softly, tasting a hint of blood.

“That was good. You did well.” He murmurs. The praise warms your chest, making you feel more bold. As the pad of his thumb grazes the crown of your teeth, you lick the exposed back of his finger. Even through the shadows, you can see his eyebrows raise in surprise.

With a clatter, he drops the syringe back onto the tray and swings one slender leg over to the other side of your chair. His weight settles against you. He’s heavy, but not more than you can accept on your lap. As you rest your hands on his coat-covered hips, he forces your attention back to your mouth as he presses two fingers against your tongue. Reflexively, you close your mouth and begin to suck on him.

Gabriel made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between satisfaction and amusement. “... Good boy. You're a wonderful patient.” He purrs quietly, rubbing your cheek with his free-hand.

As you work your tongue against him, you can feel him subtly grinding himself against your abdomen. Cheekily, you slide your hand down his stomach and press your palm against the growing bulge in his pants. In an instant, his hand grabs your wrist and presses it firmly against the armrest.

“Ah-ah." He scolds, a playfully cruel tone in his voice. "This is your appointment. We will be keeping our focus on you… For the moment."

“If you insist.” You mumble around his fingers. He takes them out of your mouth, and skillfully fastens a strap around each of your wrists. As you try to lift your arms, you find them both completely immobilized. Combined with the mask still pumping calming gas into your lungs, you find that your upper body is entirely at his mercy.

"You'll be a good patient for me, won't you?" He asks, his fingers caressing your jaw. You try to nod, but his hold on your jaw forces you to remain looking up at him. "Use your words."

"Y-yes, Doctor." You stammer. Your tongue feels sluggish in your mouth, slurring your speech.

"Very good." He smiles beneath his mask. Your heart stutters in your chest as he plucks a tool off of the tray. His thumb flips a switch, and a soft whir fills the room. He presses the end of the tool to your chest, and for a terrifying moment, you think he's trying to drill through your ribs. But, as a deep buzz resonates along your skin, you recognize it as the same type of brush that Jamie had used to clean your teeth. As he traces along your torso, you find the vibration to be powerful and surprisingly pleasant.

"Now, you'll need to be mindful of the other patients. If they hear someone in distress in my clinic…" He warns, slowly moving the tool lower. Over your stomach, and the waistband of your pants… "It wouldn't be good for business."

You roll your hips under him, subtly presenting yourself. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

He nods, satisfied with your response. Then, he presses the smooth back of the brush head where you'd been hoping he would.

With a sharp gasp, you strain against your restraints. With your pants acting as a buffer, the vibration borders between not quite enough and just right. You have to fight to keep still enough for him to keep the pressure where you want it.

As you swallow back the tiny noises of pleasure that keep rising from your throat, Doctor Langford's attention is completely focused on you. As a particularly strong jolt passes through your body, he carefully tucks a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Even as you come undone before him, he's still keeping you together.

"... Even through the fabric, you're still responding that strongly?" He clicks his tongue in mock disapproving. "Perhaps you need more anesthetic."

"No, no, please--" You choke out as he withdraws the brush. His pale eyes lock onto yours, urging you to go on. With a hint of desperation, you plead, "I-I want more… Please, keep going?"

"Well… Since you asked so nicely. We will need to get on with your procedure eventually, though." He heaves an exaggerated sigh, then pushes the buzzing tool back against your sensitivity.

This time, you're braced for it. You bite back a moan, and you can see him searching your flushed face. While your hips grind back against the tool, he palms himself idly through his dress pants.

The combination of your dreamy high and the overwhelming stimulation puts your mind in a fog that you can't fathom a world outside of. That's probably why it takes you a moment to register Gabriel's voice as it filters through the haze in your head.

"... still numb?"

"Mmmsorry, what?" You mumble, shaking your head quickly.

Gabriel laughs quietly, adjusting his grip as he repeats, "Is your mouth still numb?"

You prod the injection site with your tongue, then report, "Yeah, almost… um, half of my mouth is completely…. numb… Mmh..."

"Perfect. Could you hold this for me?" He asks, pointing at the still-buzzing tool pressed into your sensitivity.

You roll your eyes at him, nodding toward your fingers drumming loudly on the armrests.

"Oh! How silly of me." He asks with a dry laugh. Then, he easily unbuttons your pants. "How about we try this, then?"

Before you can respond, he slips the tool down the front of your pants. The tight fabric holds the tool against your skin, and with just a slight tilt, it finds your--

"Pfthfucking Christ, OKAY!!" You cry, body shivering as your hips instinctively raise off the plastic-covered chair.

"Too much?" The doctor asks, watching you squirm with obvious amusement.

"Nnnnhhh~, um, no, I mean, it's-- oh fucking fuckfuckfuck, leave it!" You pant, biting your tongue to keep yourself quiet. If the sensation was bordering on perfection before, then this toed the line of too much. But, as your body adjusts to the buzzing, it quickly turns into delicious overstimulation.

Again, Gabriel grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at him once more. You can barely keep your eyes on his. Your body wants to close your eyes and get swallowed up by the climax slowly building in your stomach, but the rush that his gaze gives you is too wonderful to give up.

For a moment, a silvery glint catches your eye, but his fingers dig into your soft skin. "Look at me." He growls, pressing a thumb to your lips once more, "And open wide."

Eagerly, you do as he commands. You expect to feel his finger run against your tongue, but instead, he yanks your jaw down lower. Your mouth is open as wide as you can hold it, and you just hope that you won't start to drool.

His other hand flits through the corner of your vision, but through the laughing-gas mask, you don't have a clue what he's holding. Something metallic… Another tool.

Cold metal brushes the warmth of your cheek, exposing the numb side of your mouth.  Then, there's pressure on one of your molars. The one with the cavity, you think.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling." Gabriel says, a slightly husky edge to his tone. He's leaning in closer now, and you can see how flushed he is under his mask. With your pulse pounding in your ears, you realize how obviously drunk he is on your mutual arousal.

Something pops. Pressure releases in your mouth. You don't feel any pain, but you taste iron.

With a grin, Gabriel pulls down his mask and holds up the molar he just pulled from your skull.

All at once, he tugs your own mask up and off over your head, then closes the distance between the two of you.  The dentist kisses you, deep and hungry. You can taste him; his mouth is clean and cool, and the rich warmth of your own blood coats both of your tongues. His gloved hands are all over you, running up your arms and over your chest, tugging at your shirt, then up your neck and into your hair.

And all the while, the buzzing between your legs pushes you closer and closer. When Gabriel finally pulls away, he's breathing harder than you are. His hands fumble clumsily with his belt, before he  shakily unzips his pants. In seconds, he's holding himself in hand and stroking with an obvious goal in mind.

Yours hands, still bound, grip the armrests so hard that you're sure the nail marks will never come out. Blood drips down your chin steadily, soaking into the front of your shirt. Doctor Langford's mouth is smeared with red, as are his gloves.

His tongue darting out to taste what's left of you on his lips. He breathes, "You look gorgeous. You're about to cum, aren't you?"

All you can do is nod frantically. You're almost there; your legs are tensed and your hips shiver with anticipation. Just a few more seconds…

With a gasp, Gabriel braces himself with one hand on your headrest. Just as you slip over the edge into a shaking, cursing orgasm, he brings himself to completion on your torso. If you had more presence of mind, you'd be upset at how many fluids have soaked into your shirt. But, as your eyes squeeze shut under the intensity of your pleasure, you don't have a care in the world.

As your own cries of ecstasy die off, you can hear Gabriel panting hard against your neck. Your whole body glows with endorphins, urging you to keep your eyes shut and ride it out.

After a few moments, the dentist's weight shifts, and buzzing between your legs slows to a stop. The pressure on your wrists releases, and the tall man climbs off of your lap.

The stool to your right squeaks as his weight settles into it. You take in a slow, deep breath, and your mental fog seems to lift. Suddenly, everything feels heavy… Distantly, you hear your name being called...

Slowly, begrudgingly, you open your eyes to see Jamie sitting beside you.

"... Wh-... Um. How long were you--?" You squeak, quickly sitting bolt upright and moving to pull the tool out of your--...

The coy grin plastered on Jamie's face doesn't fade as he asks, "Have a good nap, kid?"

There's nothing there. Well, not nothing, but there's certainly no dental tools in your pants. Confused, you touch your mouth. You're still a bit numb, but you're not missing any teeth, and there's no blood. Your clothes are as clean as when you came in, and there's no sign of Doctor Langford.

Jamie clears his throat to stifle a giggle, then goes on. "Your filling went well. You must have fallen asleep pretty early in, since you were out cold by the time I came back."

Your face is burning. Was all of that a dream? You don't remember falling asleep… And, if the wet mess in your pants is anything to go off of, you know that something happened. ...At least in your mind.

"... Um. Did I… say anything stupid?" You ask sheepishly, massaging the numb portion of your face idly.

"Not as far as I know. Doctor Langford said you were a perfect patient." Jamie snorted, turning to the counter to staple together a freshly-printed packet of aftercare information. "He did want me to ask, did you feel any discomfort while you were asleep?"

"N-... no?"

"Oh. M'kay. He mentioned that you got kinda… squirmy… Y'know, when he turned on the drill." Jamie says with an audible smirk. "... He said he hopes that your dentophobia hasn't given you a poor impression of him."

You can't even think of a response that won't damn you to a deeper layer of hell. Either you had a wet dream in front of your dreamy new dentist, or…

"Anyways… You do need to come back for a follow-up appointment soon. Your wisdom teeth gotta be taken care of, ASAP." He says, turning back around and handing you the packet. "Wanna schedule that now?"

You hesitate, tapping the papers against the armrest. Part of you wants to flee the country and never speak the word teeth again. But… Then again… Would it really be the worst thing in the world to see him again?

With a coy grin to match Jamie's, you finally reply, "... What's the earliest you can get me in?"

[autofoebia]

works in progress

1) (something like) an operation - memoir

2) bitterness and black mold - fiction

1

A dentist I’ve known my entire life leaned over me with a pair of pliers in hand and said, “Tell me if it hurts,” before shoving his hands into my mouth. I was too numb to even register the brush of latex against my teeth. I lay there, tiny mouth forced open by a cheek retractor, my fingers in a death grip on my mother’s wrist, and I remember wondering how I would tell him it hurt. How would I even be able to buck up against him with the nurse’s arm across my chest? A mouth full of fingers really knows how to keep one from screaming out in agony. Perhaps the dentist was aware of that and was merely required to calm my nerves. Maybe he was playing a cruel joke on me. I considered there, on the pale blue chair with my chin tipped up and my eyes screwed shut, if pain ceased to exist under the blanket of novocaine.

The tapping of metal against bone rattled my skull. I closed my eyes tight enough to see streaks of illusionary light behind my eyelids and squeezed my mother hard enough to earn a pinch on the back of my hand. This was entirely her decision. In the summer of 2016, they found two impacted wisdom teeth on my bottom jaw. Me, a freshly graduated teenager with my head buried in Pokemon Go, expected and secretly wished for an easy operation. I had never gone under, never really understood all the pretty prose about surgeries I’d read, and somewhere, deep down, I was curious to experience going down into darkness, or waking into light. Things I had never truly considered before, I wished to experience and understand it all.

Suffice to say, when the dentist recommended I simply come in on my off day and get the two teeth out via novocaine-numbed-just-barely-a-surgery-surgery.

He pulled on my gums, my head snapping after his strength. The nurse pulled me back down again and I squeezed my mother’s wrist again, leaving crescent marks in the thin skin. The dentist twisted his wrist. I could feel the coldness of the forceps against my cheek but I couldn’t feel what it was grabbing, and then I heard a crack in the back of my throat. The taste, dulled by my useless tongue, of my own shattered tooth permeated the chill of the numbing agent. I am shaken and, oddly, intrigued. The clinical air, just as clean as the counters to my right and the sink to my left, was shot through with the coppery reek of blood. My mother made a sickened noise behind my head,

“You got it?” She asked. I could tell she wanted to go wait in the other room. Something heavy dripped down my chin and I kept my eyes shut tight as if I were afraid of whatever it was. I couldn’t help but think it was my tongue, cut free from the back of my throat. 

“Got it. I’ll do the next one too.” The dentist said. He pulled his hands back and shook out his wrists, and I opened my eyes in time to see the smearing of gore on his gloves, on his tools. He looked like Dr. Frankenstein himself, hidden behind a surgical mask and a hair net and a pair of thick-framed glasses, all smudged by the faintest mist of red. He loomed over me, the monster, ready to finish the job.

---

2

Mara came a week before the fall season started in a tiny lime-colored car. She pulled into the driveway, still overgrown with roots and brown needles and caked-down mud, stepped out of that little car, and stared up at the wilting walls of 356 Upper Mountain Road. That house, a two-floor Victorian which had laid dormant for the past thirty years, stared back with all the interest of a decayed corpse. Three weeks ago, Mara had seen it while driving to her classes at the local university. Then, a “For Rent” sign leaned against one of the pine trees on the front lawn. A week after that initial discovery, she contacted the owner. Another week and she was there, on the front lawn, surrounded by grass grown high enough to swallow her feet and trees so heavy with age they hung down to caress the top of her head with their needles. If she were a more optimistic person, she may have thought those small touches were enthusiastic hellos from that old house. Greetings, like that of a new roommate. ‘It’s so nice to meet you. I hope we can get along.’

One should consider the house when thinking of haunted houses. Ghosts are different always, with backstories of pain and rage and sadness and murder and love. Houses, though. The houses are usually concrete in their construction, in their own backstories. They are built on graveyards or cursed lands, constructed with awful angles and horrendous hidden rooms that welcome creeping darkness akin to a living, breathing beast. 356 was nothing like those haunted houses. 356 was built in the 70s, lived in by fairly happy families, and then left alone to rot until the landowner accepted the first call she received about a renter. No ghosts haunted 356. Not a soul had been in its gaping halls longer than an hour until Mara showed up with her tiny suitcase and her tiny colorful furniture. When she entered through the front door she felt no chill, no eyes on her back, heard no scratches from the basement or attic. When she investigated the old dusty rooms she found no footprints, no shadows in the covered mirrors as she uncovered them. There were no strange smells, no odd angles, nothing but empty, stagnant air and sunlight streaming through the windows. What haunts a house if nothing has died there, nothing has come and gone there for years? What haunts a house if not a ghost? Well, one should consider the house.

“You sure know how to pick ‘em, Mars,” Lydia, Mara’s younger sister, said as she helped her settle her mattress against the wall of the master bedroom. Her weary gaze took in the square, sturdy walls, covered in a blue wallpaper that may have depicted bundles of flowers once but was now too faded to even have a texture. She scrutinized the dust-gray shag carpet, which Mara had probably deep cleaned only a night or two ago, and the ceiling, which held a weepy fan and enough wrinkles in the white paint to warrant a plastic surgeon. The grand window to the left of them, which was in need of polishing, was perhaps the most beautiful thing about the room, with its curling ornamentation and balcony access. Mara, despite her sister’s obvious worries, still grinned as she stepped into the center of the wide, sunny floor, arms spread wide. She said,

“Don’t I? This place is great, Lydia, trust me, and mom said she’d cover rent until I graduate too.” 

“Lucky break,” Lydia leaned against the wall, pulling two cigarettes from her back pocket. She offered the extra to Mara, who reached over and took it between two fingers.

“Didn’t you quit?” She asked as she lit up and threw her lighter back over to Lydia.

“Thought about it. Didn’t have the guts,” Lydia sighed out a cloud of spicy smoke, “I’ve decided I’m fine with my teeth falling out by the time I’m thirty. Besides, it makes me look sexy.”

“So you think, you baby,” Mara said, “When’re you and mom driving down?”

“Next Friday,” Lydia stared down at her fingernails and found infallible interest in her cuticles, “I’ll miss you, you know.”

“Well, you’re the one who wanted an out of state school,” Mara said, “But I’ll miss you too, I guess.” She smirked and wandered over to the window, dragged her fingers through her hair, and watched as the sun began to sink behind the Jersey suburbs and trees far beyond her and her sister and her empty rented house. Lydia stared at her back. Anything the sisters wished to share, anything left unsaid, remained unsaid. The house felt it too and bided its time. A seed, it thought, has been planted.

Mara was a senior at Montclair University, just up the road from 356. Her commute, which had been a near half house drive from Lyndhurst, was now a mere five-minute scoot from her driveway to the overstuffed parking lot outside the business building. She spent most of her week cooped up in front of a computer, or in the back of her fashion and business courses, popping nicotine gum against the roof of her mouth and texting the ever populated group chat. Her conversations at school usually consisted of monotonous recollections of previous discussions, retellings of stories everyone had already heard before, and, currently, a room-by-room explanation of her new rented home. The audience of other fashion business majors, a gaggle of messy buns and Greek noses and perfectly manicured hands, listened with varying degrees of interest. At the mention of an overgrown but roomy backyard, one of the messy buns who Mara thought was named Cindy let out a happy gasp and said,

“You should throw a party.” 

“What?” Mara responded, unable to fight off a smile of interest.

“A party, dude. Housewarming, you know,” Cindy said, “Drinks and gifts and shit. And if you’ve got as much room as you say you do you can probably host like, half the school.”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” Mara said.

[aster-azimuth]

Moon in Leo & The Journey of Venus

Artwork by @vonnart

Tonight the last quarter Moon moves in to Leo and joins her South node (eclipse point), activating the ongoing fixed grand cross between Venus, Uranus and the nodes. I wrote about this grand cross in my previous blog post, but I'd like to expand on it here. 

The Moon in Leo and this image both remind me of the strength card in the tarot. The card represents not the outer strength that you would think would be required to tame a lion, interestingly, but the inner strength and grace that is required to remain calm and collected in the face of strife and struggle. It's about strength of character. It's about learning to apply that strength to control our animal instincts like fear and aggression, in order to master our own circumstances to the best of our ability, and ultimately to shine like only Leo can do... And we do that shining when we discover just how much we are actually capable of enduring... it's always far more than our fear tells us is possible. And what is often the most difficult thing to face that we all fear? That's right. Change. Especially for the fixed signs. But change is happening and it's time to determine and embrace our individual roles in that change.

This Moon is a Last-Quarter Moon, meaning she is square the Sun, who is incidentally now just about exactly one quarter of the way through the sign of Scorpio... Squares are about what? You guessed it: Also change. Not the kind of change that happens without direct provocation (like Uranus usually brings) but the change that comes as a result of striving and struggling to create it. Change that comes from DOING something (creative & constructive, hopefully) about our discomfort. 

On a personal level (and ultimately all things Moon are personal) the square between Leo and Scorpio is about self expression. Leo doles it out freely, Scorpio does not. They are also both about self-worth, being fixed signs. Leo is concerned with outer self worth being accepted and loved by others, and Scorpio is primarily concerned with inner, self-determined self-worth. 

This theme may be present to some extent in the decisions and changes at hand, especially with Mercury and Jupiter still conjunct, and Mercury moving from a water sign to a fire sign tonight as well... Perhaps there is too much emphasis on one or the other? 

Whatever the case, the theme of change is omnipresent in the heavens at this point. The astrologer Dana Gerhardt has this to say about a Last Quarter Moon: "Squares bring stress-and a potent thrust of energy that makes necessary changes possible.... During the Last Quarter's waning square, we're prompted to find a new direction. The 'something wrong' is generally inside, the change required a mental adjustment, some shift in our thinking, our intentions, or beliefs. Rudhyar called the waxing square a 'crisis in action' and the waning square a 'crisis in consciousness.'"

And he (Rhudyar) says this of quarter moons in general: "Moon phases help us decide our wise next steps. Whatever occurs at the Quarter Moons, we're invited to see it as two forces in conflict. Something wants to move; something else resists. This tension seeks its release in change, involving struggle, or assertive and decisive action."

Now... All this talk about change may feel overwhelming to some, but this particular opportunity for change is not just massive, it's also very well-supported by two grand trine aspects happening at once:

The Moon on the North node in Leo is activating the destiny of humanity right now. (NBD) The north node deals with the evolution of the individual soul and the collective evolution we are all a part of. She is making a grand trine to Jupiter and Mercury in scorpio and to Chiron in pisces, which is also offering a profound opportunity for healing. My last post on instagram (from this morning) is about this particular aspect pattern. It's under this image:

The other two trines are being made by Pallas Athena (the principle of creative wisdom) and Juno (the principle of divine marriage commitment) to the south node, which represents our karma on a personal and collective level. The south node deals with gifts and talents we naturally have that we have a tendency to rely a bit too heavily on, but which are very valuable nonetheless. I believe this aspect pattern is indicating an opportunity to address our relationship issues from a creative angle we may have previously not thought of or overlooked... or perhaps a creative commitment to the changes we know we need to make. Whatever the case may be, the support is there, as two grand trines = a very stable support system indeed. 

Back to the changes. 

While there is likely a very personal component for this transit for many people, there is also a larger-context social change that's happening. While Jupiter has been in Scorpio the last year and some change, (excuse the pun) he has set the foundation for this slow transformation. Venus in Scorpio has sped it up and made it more personal for everyone. Both of those planets are considered "benefics" in classical astrology, meaning that they are bringers of good fortune, but in the sign of Scorpio it's not all rainbows and pots of gold. 

Scorpio quite literally *IS* transformation on a deep and profound level, and the change these two have been bringing us looks like the #metoo movement, the #blacklivesmatter movement and the exposure of the racist, homo/transphobic, mysoginistic, xenophobic, bigoted, hateful undercurrent in the blood running through the veins of this "once great" nation we call the U.S. - those are their gifts to us; They are hoping we will use them wisely. Mercury also having just transited through Scorpio has brought these conversations further to the forefront of political discourse: 

NOW is the time for us to DO SOMETHING to create the change we want to see in the world. Pluto (deep profound change through relationships) and Saturn (rules, laws, boundaries, litigation, etc) both in Capricorn are urging us to do something PRACTICAL about it, not just talk...

Now, it's worth noting that there are always multiple ways any planets position can be interpreted, and Pluto and Saturn in Cap also represent the existing paradigm in all of its might: The oppressive powers that dominate the political landscape and have for centuries: the ones fighting tooth and nail to keep their power using fear tactics and war strategy... AKA the toxic Patriarchy and all that it represents:

But to hell (Scorpio) with those guys. It's time to take real, grounded and meaningful action, because the nodes and the two retrograde planets (Venus and Uranus) are about to move in to cardinal signs, where action begins... Uranus moves in to Aries on Nov. 7th, where he spends about 4 months before going direct and heading back in to Taurus on March 6th. We can plausibly expect some pretty major events in the world stage around that time.

Back to the lion and the inner strength of conviction and determination:

What this boils down to, IMHO, is that the stars are telling us that we need to do the inner work (NOW, not whenever it's convenient) so that we can make our unique contribution to the work that needs to be done to change the outer world - in particular the old, outdated structures that our society is built on... Where do you need to build your inner strength? Where can you change your behaviors and beliefs to be in more alignment with the vision you want to create? Because NOW is the time to address that...

There's one more planet I've left out, regarding all of this change, and that's Mars: The ruler of action. Mars is in Aquarius, the sign of tearing down the old structures in order to build ones based on more freedom for the individual and the collective as a whole... That is what Mars (who rules action) wants us to focus on now. He is currently ruling Jupiter and Venus in Scorpio, and in a week Mars will also be ruling Uranus when he moves in to Aries. To me, this is evidence that this (over any of the myriad of other possible interpretations) is the one that bears the most weight in regards to this transit...

To sum it up:

The time for revolution is here, dreamers. Will you let stodgy old Saturn and mean old Pluto in Capricorn keep you bound by fear to the matrix that was set up by crusty old rich racist white dudes? Or will you tear it down to create a new world? It's yours now, Millenials... just sayin'