#i'm going to go to the dentist

[egophiliac]

I got a really tough question.

What’s your favorite Twst event of ALL TIME?

I like Harveston

this truly is the hardest question. :( but after much consideration, I think Endless Halloween Night wins out for me, because it's nonstop Characters Being Silly the whole way through. the whole thing is just lots of these little dorks having the most ridiculous interactions, which is always my favorite! and of course the big twist is SO delightfully stupid and doubles down SO hard that it becomes AMAZING and I 100% unironically adore it. AND it's Halloween! everyone is in their cute little costumes and having a spooky adventure! it's great!

however, I am ALSO a big fan of the Harveston event! how can I not be! everyone is wearing comfy winter outfits and getting along really weirdly well with Epel's grandma and he's getting a little worried about that! my terrible loud son sews a plush squirrel and then gives it a silly little nickname and refuses to leave it behind when it breaks! the ending shot with the sled! I LOVE IT.

obviously we need the best of both worlds now

[confinesofmy]

oh. cool. i have a huge cavity in the tooth that i most recently got filled, the one where the dental assistant didn't go in after so i wound up leaving with an unpolished filling and excess filling material bonded to a healthy tooth, both of which had to be fixed by someone else. so i'd assume he either didn't remove the entire lesion before filling or in his sloppiness he left a pocket for bacteria to gather in that couldn't be cleaned. that is so neat! *adds another piece of bad news to the 2022 stack and watches as it teeters back and forth but somehow doesn't fall* haha okay! 😃🔫

[ghost-proofbaby]

Hi!! I’m your friendly neighborhood Swiftie BEGGING you for Eddie - Sparks Fly

sparks fly (eddie's version)

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff. mutual pining. the works. <3

wc: 2.1k+

a/n: this one got mad cheesy. maybe a little too cheesy. idc. i had fun with it.

“You know, one of these days, you’re gonna have to talk to Ed,” the older bartender, Phil, muses as he wipes down the counter behind you. 

You hardly hear him over the current symphony of electric guitars, riveting bass, and crashing drums filling the Hideout. You had one focus tonight, just as you did every Tuesday and Friday night, and that was the band on the stage currently commanding an even larger audience than last week. 

You’d seen it coming. Building crowds, more buzzing conversations around town in hushed tones about the band that owned the stage of the hole in the wall. You’d stumbled upon them by accident, coming in and telling yourself you were just grabbing one drink after a particularly rough shift. But one drink immediately turned into four that night when the band had taken the stage, playing song after song, keeping you glued to that bar stool and completely enamored with one particular boy on stage.

Eddie Munson. 

Every time you watch him command that stage, wild hair and vibrant eyes, it’s like the first time all over again. You can’t get over his wicked grin, the way he puts his entire self into each performance, the rasp of his voice – you’re down bad for a man you’ve never even properly spoken to.

By some miracle, you tear your eyes from the stage, swiveling to face Phil, “Excuse me?” 

“Ed. You know, Eddie,” he repeats himself, leaning both palms on the bar, “He notices you, you know? Always asks me where you ran off to after their set’s done.” 

Your heart is suddenly in your throat, embarrassment red hot in the pit of your stomach, “H-He notices me? Why would he notice me?” 

“You’re at every show. Even before they started getting a proper crowd. The damn boy hasn’t shut up about you since that first night,” Phil pauses to hand off a beer to another patron wordlessly, “You’re lucky you pay with cash and not card, or I’m sure he would’ve tracked you down outside of here by now. Calls you his Cinderella.” 

Like a clock chiming midnight, the final tinny note of the set rings through the bar, and you can hear that rasp of Eddie’s voice booming through the speakers.

“We have been Corroded Coffin! Thank you very fucking much!” 

And just like clockwork, you’re rushing to dig into your purse, yanking a twenty from your wallet and smacking it onto the bar before grabbing your drink to down the last of it. 

“I’m not Cinderella,” you choke out over the residual burn of the alcohol, face still scrunched up as you glance over your shoulder to see the boys have already left the stage, “I just like the music.” 

“The music,” he hums, “Right. Well, your money’s no good here tonight, little miss Cindy,” he reaches out, and with a singular fingertip, pushes the cash back towards you over the sticky wood. When your mouth opens and closes in confusion, Phil’s eyes flicker up towards the side door beside the stage where a commotion has begun, signaling that the band is coming out, “It seems the music likes you, too. So much so that he demanded I add your drinks to his tab tonight.” 

The coals of embarrassment burn even brighter, igniting you from the inside out. Your hand flies out, grabbing back the twenty and shoving it aimlessly in your purse. You keep looking back at the crowd, catching glimpses of dark curls over the small sea of people singing their praises, watching your seconds run out in real time. It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to the man who has had you captivated for several months now; you were just mortified that he’d noticed you in that crowd, noticed the way you attended each show. 

One of these days you’d talk to him. But tonight, you had no bravery left for such boldness. 

“You’re gonna have to leave behind a glass slipper for the boy eventually,” Phil only chuckles, watching you fumble to clasp your purse before you shoot up from the stool, “Hey, hold on-”

“Another night, Phil!” you call out, not even looking back as you make a beeline for the bar’s exit. 

If you had, you would have seen your favorite ring that Phil was holding up, the one that you had taken off your finger to fiddle with endlessly before sitting it down at some point without thought, now left behind like some kind of glass slipper. 

—

You were late. It was Friday night, the day had been a nightmare, and you were fucking late to Corroded Coffin’s show. 

Your attendance had never faltered like this before. You were always right on time, sometimes five minutes early once the crowds doubled in size in order to secure one of your regular seats. 

The deviation from your routine has you reeling, amongst other things. Your Friday had simply been shit.  A nonstop rampant attack on your sanity, one thing after another testing what was left of your patience. You’d slept through your first two alarms this morning, you hadn’t realized you were out of coffee creamer until you’d grabbed the scarily light container of it this morning, you had to take a dreadfully cold shower rather than waste precious minutes letting the water warm, you’d worked through your lunch to clean up a mess made by your coworker – the list goes on and on. 

You burst through the entrance of the Hideout, probably looking a bit crazed, stopping dead in your tracks when you realize two things.

One, It’s fairly empty. And two, Corroded Coffin is not on the stage. 

“Look who decided to show!” Phil calls from his place behind the bar, waving dramatically to you, “Cinderella!”

“Phil, for the last time, I’m not-”

“Your favorite band canceled tonight, I’m afraid,” he bulldozes right over your retort as you approach one of your usual stools.

Your brows furrow, “Canceled? Is everything okay?” 

Phil’s mouth opens. But it’s not his voice that answers you. 

“Gareth’s sick.”

A voice you’d only heard on the stage, through crackling speakers and enthusiastic addresses to a crowd. A voice you had never heard one-on-one, and for good reason. 

Your breath escapes you as you turn slowly, facing the man you’d managed to elude for months now. 

“Pardon?” you squeak out, voice hardly audible. 

Eddie still grins shyly, hearing you loud and clear due to how uncharacteristically quiet the bar is tonight, “Our drummer, Gareth – he’s, uh, sick. Sorry to disappoint.” 

He’s just as captivating up close as he is on the stage. There’s still something wild in him, something electrifying that he seems completely unaware of. 

“Don’t apologize,” you’re still whispering, internally cursing yourself for it. You probably look ridiculous right now; you can only picture your starry eyes and parted lips, looking at him with palpable shock, hardly able to utter a word, “I- I’m not disappointed. There’ll be other shows!” you stammer your way through your words, and when Eddie only continues to look at you with gentle amusement, the softest ripple of possible nerves from the way his hands shoved into his pockets, you continue to over explain yourself, rambling on, “I just- I, uh, hope he feels better.”

“Yeah, me too,” he nods in agreement before he buries his hands even deeper. Suddenly, as if he’s found something in those pockets, his face lights up in delight, “Oh! Hey, I-” his left hand pulls out of his pocket at lightning speed, still curled into a fist as he thrusts it into your direction, “I think this might be yours.” 

Slowly, he unfurls his fingers, and in the center of his palm rests your ring. You had assumed it was lost to the fire, that it might have fallen off at work or outside your apartment, never to be found again. Just another thing to add to your checklist of things gone wrong. 

And yet there it was, like a perfect glass slipper, right in the palm of Eddie’s hand. 

Your nerves are all but forgotten as you get giddy, reaching out without thinking to take the ring from him. A gentle brush of your fingertips against this palm, and you swear you feel sparks flying from the minimal contact, “Oh! Oh my gosh! Thank you, I-” you slip it on easily, smiling widely before you look up at him gleefully, “I thought I’d lost it for good. Thank you.” 

Eddie turns bashful, tilting down his chin and letting stray curls fall in his face that half hide his own contained grin. If the lighting in the bar had been better, you would have caught the pink spreading across his cheeks. 

“And so the prince finally meets his Cinderella,” Phil mutters from behind the two of you before he suddenly smacks his palms on the countertop, “Alright! Well, if you two will excuse me, I have to…. Do some stock count in the back,” a blatant lie, “Don’t burn the place down, yeah?” 

Eddie snaps out of his daze to look up to the older man, mock saluting him in a way that has an involuntary giggle leaving your lips. In an instant, he’s looking back down to you, almost surprised at the sound. 

Cheap bar lighting can no longer hide his blush. Or your own adoration.

“The bar is yours! Make good decisions!” Phil continues to shout as he moves to the backroom, voice fading with each step.

Finally, you and Eddie are alone. 

“And then there were two,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you, finding something brave in him at the way you’re looking up at him in reverie. 

The rockstar that had been enchanting you for months from a distance. The man who had been occupying all your thoughts far too much for having been a stranger. 

This is your chance. No more hiding at the back of the bar, only admiring him with the safety of a crowd between you two. No more wondering, no more imagining, no more pining. Time stands still, not a single clock daring to strike midnight as the electric currents between you two come to a rise. 

“Say,” you say right when he looks to be preparing himself to speak first. It’s time to be bold, take a risk, no matter the costs. “Do you… Do you want to grab a drink?” 

His wicked grin is even better right in front of you, directed at you, “Well, he did say the bar is ours. What’s your poison?” 

“Jack and coke?”

He shrugs, still a vibrant fool, like a schoolgirl with a crush, “I’ve been known to have a heavy hand with the jack, but… I think I can manage that.” 

Electrifying, pulsing, the beginning of something new. You can see it now – the way you’re going to cling to his arm when he makes you laugh so hard you nearly fall off your chair, the way he’ll be able to charm you better over a jack and coke than he ever had been able to from behind a guitar, the way those eyes scream trouble. And yet at the end of the night, you know he’ll still walk you to your car through the empty parking lot. He’ll probably use the excuse of the bad weather looming overhead. When the sky finally breaks open and the first drops of rain fall, neither of you will be brave enough to admit what you both already know. Tonight’s not the night for kisses in the rain or talk of what-ifs. 

That’s fine. For tonight, the sparks of something new are enough. 

Eddie moves to walk behind the bar, but you throw out a reckless hand to catch him. Your first curls around his forearm for the first time tonight, and even with the layer of leather that separates skin, you can feel it. “Hey, did you really call me your Cinderella?” 

Flashes and arrays of what’s to come flood both of you. It’s only the first drink. It’s only the first night.

It won’t be the last. 

“I mean,” he nods subtly down to the hand holding him, where your ring glitters on your middle finger, snug on your knuckle, “If the ring fits, right?” 

He’s right. The ring fits. 

And a different ring fits years later, after all those kisses in the rain and many more jack and cokes that Eddie never quite perfects. And you’re still right where you belong, front row at every Corroded Coffin show, Eddie’s own personal Cinderella. When the clock strikes midnight, he’s no longer afraid – he knows you’ll be coming home to him now. 

Phil only laughs when he receives the invite, chuckling to himself at the chosen theme for the two idiots that once haunted his bar who now had moved onto bigger and better things.

A gothic fairytale wedding, on a Tuesday night. How fitting.

"you touch me once and it's really something. you find i'm even better than you imagined i would be."

[wild-magic-oops]

I like to hc that Durge heals abnormally quickly but now I also think he should be able to regenerate body parts just to make him even more unsettling due to what he is. He knocks out a tooth and it just grows back the next day. A finger? No problem. Bigger parts like a whole hand take longer to regenerate but so far anything that wouldn't kill him will grow back just fine.

I've seen some hcs that Durge acts like a cat and leaves Gortash body parts and whatnot, and what better present than his own child-of-a-god bodyparts?

[unashamedly-enthusiastic]

being Big and Brave and do things you do not want to do because it is The Right Thing is

bullshit

[omppupiiras]

peanuary day 24: corn boi taking care of those pearly whites 😁

corn pea boys gotta brush their teeth too, even if squeezing the toothpaste out of the tube can be difficult for one so small!

[montammil]

Lab whumper dialogue

My favorite trope is the sadistic scientist/doctor whumper, so I may have indulged...

1. “The greatest scientific discoveries often require us to step outside of our comfort zones. Are you willing to take that leap with me?”

2. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

3. “My dear, the ends always justify the means. Think of how so many people will find our research beneficial. You aren’t being selfish, are you?”

4. “Morality is just a construct created by society.”

5. “Everything we do is in the name of science... and science requires sacrifice.”

6. “You should feel privileged. Few people have the chance to contribute so directly to the advancement of science.”

7. “I understand your apprehension, but remember, you agreed to this.”

8. “I must admit, darling, I find your resilience quite admirable. You're much stronger than my previous test subjects. But don’t worry, I have a few tricks up my sleeve to break even the strongest of wills.”

9. “I assure you, I have done this many times before. You will be fine.”

10. “I know the methods I use may seem cruel to the unenlightened mind, but you’ll understand... one day.”

11. “I’ll have to remember to make note of this in my journal. Fascinating.”

12. “The line between genius and madness is a thin one, so go ahead and call me mad. To me, it’s a compliment.”

13. “You signed a consent form, correct? Then you fully knew the risks.”

14. “You’re doing so well, darling. Just a little longer and we’'ll have all the data we need.”

15. “I’m sorry, but the procedure was not a complete success. We'll have to try again. As many times as it takes. You understand, right?”

[calista-222]

Hello there!

Not wanting to push but, could we have an update on how the rottmnt comic is going?

I'm just asking really, take your time :)

Yuuup, still working on it!

Though unfortunately, I'm going through a bad combo of Toothache, Backache and Worse Insomnia Than Usual™, which is really making it hard to draw. Drawing anything usually already takes a while because I have trouble focusing but rn it's even worse because of all this. Sooo it's going slowly but it's going!

I can't really know when it'll be done, though. I do want to finish it eventually but ooh boy do things just keep happening!

Have a Donnie in the meantime :)! :

[who-is-page]

Life is hard! Consider buying my stuff!

My life isn't quite falling apart, but things have gotten really tricky lately. One housemate (and their super destructive, permanent houseguest) is refusing to pay their share of rent or utilities for the next three months, and another is refusing to pay their full share of rent for that same amount of time and is making us cover around $75 every month, and I'm having to double-up my hours at work while still being a full-time student (and also one of my professors, who we're 99% sure is using ChatGPT to generate her citations because none of them exist and we pointed this out, hates my guts and has been grading me really harshly and forcing me to go full-sail on every assignment to ridiculous degrees in order to pass this required class).

My spouse is working on getting full-time at their job, but it looks like they won't be able to until December, and we also have no idea how much rent is going to increase this year-- my guess is it's going to go up another $500, same as last year, to a total of $3,000, so things are gonna get really fucking bumpy until around January, probably.

So basically, if you like the work I've done, consider throwing me a tip on Ko-Fi or buying my stuff on Itch.io:

(Also I promise we have more stuff lined up that we want to polish and publish, life has just been super-duper fucking busy! There is so much more going on right now than what I've mentioned here, especially in terms of surprise medical bills and other horrible surprises. And we haven't forgotten about Inky Paws issue 2, either, which we're still hoping to have done by December and which will STILL always be entirely 100% free to download, no matter what our living or money situation looks like. That will never ever change, so please don't worry!)

[egophiliac]

whose mom in TWST has a bite force? the tweels?

Sebek is the one who brags about his mom's cool teeth! that's from his first birthday card, where he spends twenty minutes going on about "my mom is the COOLEST, she's super good at magic, the only thing that matches the force of her personality is the force of her BITE! bite force is the signature power of our faerie clan, you see. anyway she's amazing, a constant source of inspiration to me, and--"

"okay, cool, what about your dad?"

"..."

"tell me about your dad, Sebek."

"...he's a dentist..."

the twins have their own birthday card moment though where they're like, "oh yeah, our parents are the heads of the Eldritch Deepsea Mafia" before immediately changing the subject to Floyd's shoes, and as far as I know this never comes up or is mentioned anywhere ever again.

[coquelicoq]

god i had THE BEST TIME AT THE DENTIST TODAY and i feel completely unhinnnnngèd for saying that bc i never in a million years thought the dentist could be FUN but the hygienist was french and switched to french as soon as i mentioned that i had taken french and i understood almost everything he said to me and it felt so good!!! i never understand french!! things are paying off!!!! also i do super recommend this method of conversing in a language you are not super confident in, like it's not just a coincidence i had such a good time doing this at the dentist specifically, it was good precisely because there was very little pressure on me to talk and i could mostly just make yes/no/questioning noises and any time i wanted to say a sentence i could take my time with it because there were literally instruments in my mouth??? absolutely no pressure for me to say something just to say something it was heaven oh my god. i take back every joke i've ever made about dentist office conversational logistics. IDEAL MODE.

[salemoleander]

Going to the dentist! I am very scared!

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

[corvid-language-library]

I am terrified but I'm gonna go to the dentist and try to make myself an appointment with my shit Japanese, wish me luck!

[unpretty]

andrew was trying to get a better look at the audiobook i was listening to and i was like, "oh yeah it's about the bitemark guy. you remember the bitemark guy??" just fully expecting that we'd all watched the same video of a con artist forensic expert tampering with a corpse back in 2011 and retained that memory forever

[jichanxo]

thank god it's so easy to get sound legal advice in kamurocho (and sorry for killing you @passthroughtime)