Tumgik
#have i not had a cavity at almost every dentist appointment since i can remember?
i-like-gay-books · 9 months
Text
i dont wanna get a surgery!! im healthy!! im a healthy person!!! my organs are all functioning properly!!!!!! what have i done to deserve getting a surgery?!?!?!?
0 notes
ciaossu-imagines · 10 months
Note
i just finished watching the royal tutor last night, and i remembered you have it in your list of fandoms. so, can i please request any headcanons about leonhard? he’s such a tsun-tsun ♡♡
Oh wow! That’s exciting to hear! Did you like it? Any thoughts about it? And of course you can request that! I’m so happy to get a chance to write for this fandom and I hope you’ll enjoy the headcanons!
Okay, so this headcanon is going to surprise nobody but Leonhard has a huge sweet tooth. If he was allowed, and if he didn’t feel his brothers would make fun of him and call him childish, he would happily eat dessert for every meal. He really struggles to eat properly when left to his own devices, since he’s a picky eater and because of his sweet tooth.
He’s also really not that great about remembering to brush his teeth without being told, so he’s definitely had a couple cavities in his life. Thank God for Glanzreich’s dentists…or so I would say if, most of the time, Leonhard didn’t just run away before his dentist’s appointments because he’s scared of them. He does eventually get better about it though, as he matures as a person.
Though I don’t normally mention anything mental health-wise because I don’t generally like fandom discourse on this subject, I will say that I think Leonhard has some issues with anxiety at the very least, if not an actual anxiety disorder.
He used to give his diaries names until one of his brothers stumbled across his diary, read it, and mentioned finding it odd that he was writing such deep things to a girl…since all his diaries were named with feminine names.
Leonhard is someone who actually really needs to be physically active for stretches of time. He gets restless and really anxious actually if he’s stuck sitting in one place for too long. He tends to fidget and get restless, bouncing his leg, tapping pencils, tossing and catching erasers or pillows. He has a lot of energy and a lot of his worries or fretting converts itself to excess physical energy that he needs to blow off. He likes to run and play sports as an outlet for this energy, and he becomes almost intolerable to be around if he’s cooped up for too many hours.
Leonhard doesn’t much enjoy reading himself, but he’s a sucker for being read to if the book in question is about something that interests him. Adventure stories really speak to him, though he also enjoys historic stories about the kingdom, treating them as almost bedtime fairy tales.
17 notes · View notes
timeoverload · 2 months
Text
I wasn't expecting it to snow this morning. I'm glad it's not sticking to the road so I could still drive my car. I was almost late to my appointment because I had to scrape my windows but I made it just in time.
It went ok and it was pretty painless. I didn't have any cavities again so I'm happy about that. I haven't had to get a filling in years but I think a lot of my back teeth have them and I have 1 crown. My dentist gave me a lecture because he can tell that I have been drinking a lot of soda. He was nice about it but he said I need to quit or cut down on it significantly. I am upset because I realized that is one of the few things that bring me joy anymore. I feel like I can't enjoy anything and everything I like is bad for me. I decided I am going to go in for cleanings every 3 months to see if that helps. My insurance might not cover that but it's not too expensive. I'm just tired of him being so critical every time even though he is right. I enjoy going there and I don't want him to be disappointed in me. It seems like he actually cares. I also don't want to end up with mountain dew mouth someday. I do have soda in the fridge but I am making myself wait at least 6 hours before I have some since I got a fluoride treatment. I will try to have it less. I know I probably spend a stupid amount of money on that every month. I wish I didn't hate coffee. If I tried to drink coffee instead, I'm sure I would have to dump a ton of sugar in it so I doubt that would be much better for me. I also think flavored seltzer water tastes like garbage so that's not an option either. I guess I will have to figure something out.
I didn't get a lot of groceries on my way home because I didn't want to carry a bunch of stuff inside but I will have enough food for today. I am tired now. The weather isn't helping. I did not want to get out of bed this morning. I had stressful dreams and when I woke up I thought I was late for work but then I remembered that it's Friday. I need a nap soon because I feel like I got beat up yesterday. I'm not sure how much I will be on here today. I am going to relax now I think.
I hope everyone is having a good day so far. :) 💖💖💖
1 note · View note
lesbianlotties · 3 years
Link
There's gotta be some butterflies somewhere - Sam/Deena - Fear Street (2021)
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fear Street Trilogy (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Fraser/Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser & Deena Johnson Characters: Deena Johnson, Samantha "Sam" Fraser (Fear Street) Additional Tags: Canon Related, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Lesbian Character, Getting Together, First Love, Best Friends, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff and Humor Words: 1645
There is a fine line between being two teenage best friends and being an old married couple... At least, that's the case with Sam and Deena.
or, Sam and Deena have been in a relationship forever and absolutely everyone knows... except for them.
It happens all the time.
Josh is the first one to notice, because Sam started sleeping over at their house a little too often, always staying in Deena’s room. In the mornings, Deena would stand by the open door, car keys in her hand and she would wear an expression of frustration and call out “Sam! Come on, we’re going to be late! Why do you take so long to get ready?”
Then Sam would walk out of the bathroom, all ready to go. She would place a kiss on Deena’s cheek, immediately soothing the other girl’s temper, and she’d reply, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I have to make breakfast by myself because otherwise you’d poison us.” Deena would try to protest, but her smile gave her away.
Josh would look away from the scene and quietly follow them to the car, saying nothing about it.
At school, it was more of the same.
Heather approached Deena before class started and invited her to a party. Deena replied, “I’m not sure, I think Sam has a thing on Friday. But I always tell her she needs to relax more, you know? We’ll try to make it.”
The other girl blinked slowly, considered inviting them to her aunt’s babyshower instead, something more their style, but decided to drop the subject.
It happened to Sam too, but she never thought twice about it. Other students would approach her in the hallways and tell her, “Hey, have you seen Deena?” “Hey, can you give this to Deena?” “Can you tell Deena band practice was canceled?” On one occasion even one of the teachers approached her to tell her, “You should get Deena to work a little harder on her assignments, I’m sure she would listen to you.” Never mind that she didn’t even share that many classes with Deena. People made assumptions, she just… didn’t know, apparently.
When they were going out with their friends it was more of the same story.
They were all in line to buy movie tickets, Deena started frantically checking her pockets. “Sam, have you seen my wallet?” She wondered distractedly.
In response, Sam silently opened her bag and pulled out Deena’s wallet for her, which she had previously agreed to carry in her bag. It was something that happened very often. Kate and Simon exchanged a knowing look every single time.
When Deena was driving, it was more obvious than ever.
“Did you get lost?” Sam asked her. “Did you get lost in your own hometown, Deena?”
“I swear they changed the signs!”
“It’s Shadyside Deena, our grandparents saw those old signs.”
“We’re not lost,” Deena insisted.
“Pull over,” Sam instructed her, “We have to ask for directions.”
“Are you crazy? I know where I’m going!”
Then they would turn the car around when they caught sight of the Sunnyvale sign, with Kate and Simon sitting in the back of the car laughing the entire time.
Even when nobody was watching, Sam and Deena’s dynamic was unchanged.
Before going out for a party, Sam arrived earlier to Deena’s house. “We’re going to miss that show I like on History Channel,” Sam complained.
“I know, I’m sorry,” Deena kissed her cheek and added, “But what do I wear?” Silently, Sam picked a good outfit for Deena, who watched her with an easy smile on her face. “Hey, don’t forget your dentist appointment on Monday,” Deena said while getting dressed.
“Right,” Sam sighed, “That cavity is going to kill me. Did you see it?”
“Of course. It’s gross,” Deena replied without hesitation or judgment. “Do you think it’s going to rain today?”
“It’s not supposed to,” Sam shrugged, “But… you never know, there might be nine clouds today.”
Sam’s words immediately caused Deena to burst out laughing, and she couldn’t help but join in. None of their friends understood their million little inside jokes, and sometimes not even they could remember the origins of the joke, but they still laughed until they cried.
There were so many little things too. Sam asking Kate to take her shopping because she was having dinner with Deena’s dad. Deena knowing the answer to what is Sam’s blood type. Sam having a key to the Johnson’s house and occasionally being there even before her friends arrived. Then there were silly, stupid things. Deena being upset an entire morning after Sam didn’t laugh at one of her jokes. Sam burning Deena’s breakfast a little when she was mad at her. Kate and Simon having to intervene because Sam and Deena hadn’t spoken in a day because they had a disagreement about adopting a dog or a cat. That’s without even mentioning what they did in their free time. Josh wasn’t unfamiliar to seeing Sam planting flowers on their garden while Deena mowed the lawn. And Kate Simon didn’t let them live down the day they skipped a party because they had to “run errands.” 
Eventually, one more Valentine’s day arrived, and everyone was forcibly reminded that they were all still hormonal teenagers in their last year of high school. During lunch, Sam and Deena arrived, sat down on the same spots as always, never interchanging their seats, but occasionally exchanging their food, and greeted their friends.
“So, what are we going to do for Valentine’s Day,” Sam asked her friends.
Simon genuinely laughed at the question. “Oh, you know I love you, ladies, but I’m out,” he replied.
“Boring,” Deena said. She threw a balled up napkin at him and turned toward Kate. “What about you? Or are you going to ditch us too?”
“Uh, no, thank you,” Kate grinned, “Not in the mood to third wheel this year.”
Sam and Deena frowned a little, but decided not to overthink it. “But we always do something together,” Sam complained. She pouted a litte, Deena looked at her adoringly, and the other two rolled their eyes. The usual.
“Yeah, but that was before the two of you started dating,” Simon pointed out. “How long has it been now?”
There was a long, tense silence. For the first time, Sam and Deena couldn’t look at each other. While Sam turned tomato red in the face, Deena gripped her fork with a little too much strength. “What?” she scoffed. “We’re not… I mean, we… we’re not dating,” she said, stuttering uncharacteristically the entire time.
“Come on,” Kate rolled her eyes. “It’s been years, hasn’t it? Don’t bother hiding it from us. I’m almost offended right now.”
Sam took a deep breath, and straightened a little, she was visibly freaking out a little. “Guys, it’s true we are not… uh, you know… we aren’t… not like that,” she whispered.
Simon laughed again. “Oh really? So you guys act like an old married couple just for fun?” Kate laughed along with him, and they barely noticed when Deena took Sam’s hand and practically dragged her out of the cafeteria, dropping her hand along the way because somehow it didn’t feel like the most natural thing in the world anymore.
Finally, the two girls made it to the girls bathroom and started pacing along the small space.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” Sam repeated again and again. “How? Why? Since when? Us?”
“Did you know about this?” Deena asked her. “Did they ever tell you something?”
“Yes, Deena, of course they did, I just wanted to embarrass you this entire time,” Sam replied and crossed her arms.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Deena rolled her eyes.
For a moment, they just stood still and quiet. But when they finally looked at each other, their laughter just exploded. The situation was entirely too funny not to laugh about it together. Instinctively, they drifted closer, Sam placed a hand on Deena’s shoulder and they shook with laughter for another minute until they calmed down.
“Oh my God, were we seriously arguing about this?” Deena asked. She noticed Sam’s eyes had watered with all their laughter, so she reached out to delicately wipe a small tear away. She kept her hand on Sam’s cheek.
“Apparently,” Sam sighed. Despite her initial panic, once she found herself alone with Deena again, she was at home.
In contrast, Deena was feeling her heart beating a little faster than usual. “Are we an old married couple?” She asked Sam with a playful smile.
Sam hesitated. Something in her eyes had changed, and Deena was acutely aware of it. “Well, we aren’t old and married,” Sam replied slowly.
“Are we a couple?” Deena asked her, she was noticeably breathless, but Sam heard her perfectly.
“I don’t know,” Sam replied honestly. She was leaning her head to the side a little, making the most of the contact they were sharing.
Deena nodded. Her thumb was instinctively caressing Sam’s cheek. She took a step closer to the other girl. “Is that something you would like?” Deena whispered.
“I mean,” Sam took a deep breath, “I like what we are right now…”
“But?”
This was the moment. Everything could change. For better or for worse. But they trusted each other and they knew each other well enough to hope for the best. So, Sam licked her lips, looked down, and reached out with her fingers for Deena’s belt loops. Then she tugged her a little closer and looked back up at Deena.
“Don’t you ever… think about… kissing me?”
Deen felt her heart skip a beat, and all the air leave her lungs. She moved even closer to Sam, their bodies colliding in a completely new way. She moved her other hand to gently hold Sam’s face between her hands. “All the time,” she finally replied in a whisper before leaning forward and finally kissing Sam.
Kate entered the bathroom twenty minutes later, and found Sam and Deena making out against one of the sinks. Nobody ever believed they hadn’t been dating already.
22 notes · View notes
mcrmadness · 3 years
Text
CW dental stuff:
Still 1,5 weeks to go until I get to go to the dentist. So weird to say that I can't wait for that, I am quite afraid of dentists to be honest and now I can't wait??? But I guess even that is better than living with a mouth like this.
I just keep having anxiety attacks every day. They change from just regular sensory overloads to health anxiety which pretty much looks like “OMFG what if it’s something serious and I’m gonna die now???” and I just want this done asap, but still have to wait 1,5 weeks and it’s not over then. Pretty sure it will be painful for a few days after that before it calms down again and then I need to go to the dentist one more time, because it’s root canal therapy I’m going to get.
Also, there’s cavities on a few teeth and those need to be done too but those are not that bad. I’m just wondering how I’m gonna eat and what if she does both at once, or maybe I’ll ask for her to do the right side on the second appointment as these others are not really bothering me but just that one root canal therapy tooth (at the left side) is. Right now I was just minding my own business and doing things and suddenly I had this anxiety attack because I “didn’t remember to worry about my tooth enough”. Like, fuck you, brain! I was finally being distracted from it after having anxiety attack and then you go like “WAIT the TOOTH!!!” I actually try to distract myself from it so that the time would go faster and April 13th would be here finally.
The tooth itself isn’t really painful unless I touch it with my tongue more, mainly I just can feel it existing and it keeps sending some sensations to my lower jaw (it’s an upper jaw tooth) and sometimes I can feel that in my cheek bone too and that’s what gives me those anxiety attacks. The lower jaw then gives me sensory overload.
Right now I’m also feeling extremely tired. I showered today at least but I also really meant to cook for myself but it’s almost midnight and I just feel so exhausted. I really need some food tho so maybe I try to do that anyway, it won’t take TOO long to be finished, after all... I also feel a bit dizzy? Like I was sitting on a boat. That is often caused either by oncoming migraine or stiff neck. Or maybe it’s just anxiety and me being lightheaded.
Gosh, every day really is like torture now. But it’s my brain that is torturing me, mentally. Now also my dreams from last night are coming back, I don’t remember much anything from those but I just remember there was some bathroom pipe leaking and it was giving me anxiety because I’m ACTUALLY afraid of water flow that I cannot control, like a pipe breaking down or something like that.
I think I’m just tired and should go to sleep - but: I still need food. Not eating anything but bread (and a can of tuna) in 4 days is not good at my mental health at all, but it’s just so damn difficult to get myself to do anything right now. This is also what’s giving me anxiety. I don’t know if I’m so tired because of anxiety or because there’s something off in my system. Like, I keep worrying that I’m sick and that I don’t know it because I don’t feel sick at all. Sometimes I also worry if these are “post-covid symtpoms” altho I’ve never even had covid. I’ve never had any covid symptoms. Last time I had a common flu was in 2017. *knocks on wood*
Maybe I should actually do what I have been meaning to do for a few weeks now and stay overnight at my parents’ place at some point. Maybe even this weekend. Then I would only have 1 week left, and after that therapy on Monday, and finally the dentist’s appointment on Tuesday. I really try to survive until that because she seemed like a nice dentists and I don’t want to cancel it and try to find another dentist when the appointment is ALMOST here already.
It’s just weird how I keep having major mood swings and it can change in matter of seconds. I can be extremely happy about everything and the next moment I’m rolling in anxiety and texting my mom about how I might come over at night. Then I don’t because it goes away and I go to sleep. I’ve also been really excited because finally I’m gonna get this tooth fixed and when the root canal therapies are over, HOPEFULLY I don’t need to do anything about that anymore. I mean, I have been living with a temporary patch since 2017. I haven’t really used the left side of my mouth for eating since my tooth started hurting for the first time in... maybe 2015 or something like that. I don’t even remember when was it but I literally have been chewing everything mainly on the right side of my mouth for FIVE YEARS. And I have constantly been thinking about how I wish this was fixed already but didn’t want to go to a dentist because I was afraid they’re gonna say it needs to be removed. I’m actually still worried that they’d say that, and the longer it took me to book another appointment, the bigger the fear grew. I was so afraid that I took so long with all and that it needs to come out and if I just went to a dentist earlier, it could have been saved. Fortunately it seems that the canal root therapy is possible so I don’t need to worry, but I still worry about what are they gonna find from inside that tooth. I’m not a dentist so I’m afraid of everything because I don’t know anything about anything. But I guess it’s still empty because the temporary patch is still there and it apparently was empty in the röngten images...
But yeah, some days I’m just so excited that maybe after a month or so, I can finally use my mouth’s left side for chewing and I don’t need to worry about a patch coming off anymore. And hopefully all the sensations and mild “pain” after cold or hot foods or liquids will be over. At this point 1,5 weeks just feels like another 5 years.
2 notes · View notes
hecohansen31 · 5 years
Note
Michael may be the antichrist, but by dint of eating sweets, this sweet tooth boy has a caries, which he has to go to the dentist for treatment. Because of the drugs, he does not recognize his girlfriend, who is sad at first, until he begins to get agitated, saying that she is beautiful and that he wants to marry her, under Miss Mead's laughter. Sweet boy is adorable when he is drugged or drunk. I can imagine him being cuddly and cute everytime something like that happen to him.
(A/N): Hello lovely!
First of all, I am extremely sorry for being this late with this prompt, and for the later ones that shall come, mostly because... I am starting university (after publishing this I’ll disappear to put thing in my backpack and luggage)... and also I am trying to follow the scheme “one fanfiction, two asks” so that I can be balanced with both and give you something to read daily!
Very sorry, if I am a bit slow!
Also I hope you’ll enjoy this!
WARNINGS: Dentist, High! Michael.
Tumblr media
You sometimes asked yourself whether the Satanists had turned to the wrong door when they had come for Michael, ending up with a baby-eyed boy who literally loved candies and sweets more than his own girlfriend.
Not that you made it a fault to him, since you also had a pendant for sweets, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his constant protests when his teeth hurt due to a few cavities that came both from sugar and him not taking proper care of his dental hygiene.
What made him even sadder was that you kept on refusing his kisses.
His horrible toothache had ended up with landing them over at the dentist, no matter Michael’s initial protests, the same one you could have heard from a child.
“What if it hurts?”
“It won’t” you had soothed him, meanwhile Mrs Mead brought you to the dentist appointment, since Michael absolutely needed the two women of his life to do this, and conquer his fear “… there is the anesthesia for that, you won’t hear a single thing”.
“But it’s annoying!” he had protested, punching softly his thighs, which had looked ridiculous because he honestly sounded and looked like a child, caged in an adult body, probably a consequence of having grown in a night.
“I know, my dear Mikey” had intervened Mrs Mead, who had been a true support for you for the entire time of the car ride “… but it won’t last forever and after your teeth will be all cured and you’ll be able to enjoy eating sweets again”.
Michael had seemed extremely comforted by that, and he had leaned further into you.
You had thought it was a simple move to come closer, but he had actually taken advantage of it leaning closer to your ear to ask you if he could kiss you after the dentist appointment.
You smiled brightly, smacking a quick kiss to his cheeks.
“Of course, baby boy!”.
Once you had reached the dentist office, you had held his hand for the entire time it was possible, but for the operation you hadn’t been allowed in the sterile room, and Michael had looked at you as if you had betrayed him.
But he had just stood straighter at the promise of the gentle dentist of all the ice cream in the world.
And when he had come out, he seemed definitely relaxed, not to say what you might have identified as “high” and the dentist had explained that they had dosed him with a bit more of anesthesia, since he had seemed very very scared.
So, the dentist suggested to handle him with care and attention and avoid any shock, suggesting that a nice ice cream would have helped, with the hurt and lessening the effect of the anesthesia, alongside that had all Michael had been talking for the entire operation, whenever he could.
Mrs Mead had thanked the expert and paid and you had moved to collect Michael from the orthodontist’s hands, but as you had tried to grab his hand, he had immediately shaken himself away from you, looking at you shocked.
“Pretty lady, what the hell?!” which sounded even more ridiculous, because due to the anesthesia, he couldn’t move partially a part of his face which made the words slurry and sometimes not totally understandable.
“Michael, c’mon, don’t joke around!” you had softly reprimanded him, meanwhile you had gently caressed his head, just to get an even more confused look “… we are going for ice cream”.
“Seriously?” he had looked at you, with no recognition in his eyes, and then at Mrs Mead “… do I have a date with this pretty girl?”.
The dentist had started laughing softly, meanwhile Mrs Mead smirked and you couldn’t help but be a bit heartbroken that Michael didn’t recognize you, although the “pretty girl” made you melt.
“Yes, sweet boy of mine” had confirmed Mrs Mead, and Michael immediately grabbed your head, turning you around playfully, his eyes shining of endless happiness.
“I am going out with a pretty girl! I am going out with a pretty girl! “he had kept on chanting, meanwhile you laughed breathless for Michael’s energetic approach.
“Sweetheart, calm down, you are a bit…” “high on medical drugs” was the proper definition “… sloppy”.
And he had looked honestly close to crying, moving from immediate joy to utter sadness.
“Am I sloppy?” he had grabbed you, a bit too rough, pushing you closer “… am I making you unhappy?”.
“No no, baby” and you had sent a look to Mrs Mead, pleading for some help, meanwhile the older woman had simply laughed at your expenses “… I am just worried for you”.
This made Michael turn around to all the people waiting in the guest room, and shout:
“Pretty girl is worried for me!”
This was definitely not going to be easy.
At the ice cream parlor, the things hadn’t gotten better and meanwhile Mrs Mead had left you alone, no matter your protests, on your little “date” to run some errands, you had had to deal with Michael smashing his ice-cream anywhere…
…except his mouth…
You had cleaned him with wipes but every time Michael haf tried to catch your hands, as if it was his mission and when he finally had, he had screamed loud enough for everyone in the ice cream shop to hear, about his intention to make you an honest woman and marry you.
“I love you, pretty girl, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?” all of this, in front of impressionable clients, who had looked at you lovingly and clapping loudly, meanwhile you blushed compulsively.
You had had to swiftly pay for the ice cream and eaten part of yours, meanwhile you had walked to Robinchaux, and Michael  had kept asking for your answer, which got him a quick “ask me again, when you are not high”.
He had protested and almost cried again, making you say that you loved him over anything, which got him quite as distracted as the light of the traffic light and you had had to grab his arm to stop him from being hit by a Range Rover.
But back at Robinchaux you could finally relax a little mostly because Michael was suddenly feeling sleepy and you agreed with his proposition of cuddling together, which got the two of you to finally lay down and enjoy a quiet time, although Michael still mumbled about “his pretty lady” and you couldn’t help but find it adorable, meanwhile you passed your hand through his hair.
Petting his hair was an extremely amazing award, mostly since normal Michael wouldn’t let you even come close to his hair, muttering something about not wanting you to get them dirty, since he had recently showered.
So, you completely took advantage of the situation, gently cooing him, meanwhile he entangled himself completely around you, moving his head on your chest, and sometimes lying silly and sloppy kisses which let you giggly and asking yourself if maybe high! Michael wasn’t better than normal! Michael.
Normal! Michael came back to you later that night tugging you in bed, meanwhile you moved to your own secret stash of sweets, tugging on the hem of your pleated skirt:
“Where are you going, (Y/N)?” he asked, softly, still a bit sleepy.
“Oh, now you remember my name?” you smirked, gently hugging him, before you poked him a bit less softly “You promised me a big wedding ring”.
Michael looked at you confused, before you exploded in a laughing fit, meanwhile he suddenly became more and more confused, but then he saw the sweets in your hand, and lost his mind on those.
Well certainly everything was back to normal.
129 notes · View notes
artificialqueens · 5 years
Text
let me be your motivation (branjie) - holtzmanns
(read on ao3) | (tumblr)
AN: Just a baby fluff drabble for one of my most favourite people in the world. Hope you enjoy! The next chapter of ‘nobody knows where we might end up’ should be coming real soon. Thank you writ for betaing <3
“Bitch, you don’t even get laughing gas when you get a filling! Why do I gotta come with you?” Vanessa sulks in the passenger seat of Silky’s car, resisting the urge to prop up her feet against the dashboard. She’d been having a great time with her Love Island marathon on her day off, popcorn and all, when her roommate had practically dragged her off of the couch with no chance to argue.
“You wanna be responsible for when I get into a crash after this appointment ‘cause I’m high as hell? Have that on your conscience?” Silky doesn’t even blink as she guides them through traffic, cutting across a lane that makes at least two people honk at her.
Vanessa makes a face, not that Silky can see as she drives. “You’re just as likely to get in a crash without it. Besides, the most you’ll have is a numb tongue. The absolute worst thing will be that you won’t be able to blow anyone for a day.”
“For me, you know that’s a tragedy.” Silky lifts a hand to her forehead in a mock faint, and it makes Vanessa laugh despite herself.
Still, she points at Silky. “We getting McDonalds after this. You’re paying.” If she’s lost a couple hours of her day off, she’s going to get something out of it.
“Yeah, yeah.” Silky waves a hand airily as they walk into the dentist’s office, and Vanessa has to hold in a gasp once they pass the nondescript entrance.
“Your dentist is fucking bougie as hell, Silk.” Vanessa’s voice, even in a whisper, carries across the waiting room with marble floors and dark leather couches, soft jazz playing overhead with a fireplace on the other end of the room. “How the hell d’you afford this?”
Silky shrugs. “Beats me. My insurance covers this place, so imma take it.”
Vanessa can’t help herself from reaching out and grabbing a mint from the reception desk, popping it into her mouth as Silky checks in. “Why do they got mints in a dentist’s office? Ain’t they supposed to be against cavities?”
The receptionist hears her, smiling up with a grin that’s a little too terrifying for Vanessa’s taste. “They’re sugar free, of course.”
Vanessa returns her best fake smile, making Silky snort and the receptionist’s eyes narrow in response. “Good to know.”
Vanessa squirms in her seat beside Silky as they wait for her name to be called. Wearing shorts had seemed like a fine and dandy idea in the morning, when the humidity was overbearing and even their apartment’s air conditioning couldn’t cut through the heavy air that felt as though it was going to drown them both. Now, though, the denim shorts feel like a mistake on the leather couches, making her wince when her thighs stick to the smooth surface as she tries to move.
“Psst.” Vanessa nudges Silky, whose face is buried in a Cosmopolitan magazine from the pile of old issues on the coffee table. “Let’s go to Kiki’s afterwards. I wanna swim in her apartment’s pool.”
“I’ll probably be on bedrest or some shit after this.” Silky doesn’t even look up from her magazine. “Ooh, ‘Ten Best Sex Positions to Light a Fire in the Bedroom’. Gonna take notes from this article.”
Vanessa rolls her eyes. “Bitch, it’s just a cavity. You’ll be fine.”
Silky is about to retort when a hygienist calls out her name, causing both of them to look up. Vanessa watches as Silky grins, standing and sauntering over to the hygienist. Vanessa raises her eyebrows when Silky sticks out a hand for the hygienist to fist bump, and they raise higher when the hygienist returns it with a grin.
“S’up, Plastique?”
Vanessa wrinkles her nose. What kind of sadistic parents had named their kid Plastique? Though Vanessa can’t argue that the name isn’t fitting, with the girl’s long blonde hair and bright pink scrubs. She’s practically a Barbie.
“Nice to see you again, Silky.” The hygienist beams back at Silky and Vanessa feels like she’s having an out of body experience. Since when did her roommate make herself right at home at a rich as hell dentist’s office?
Vanessa’s dentist, in comparison, is a grumpy old man that yells at her to floss more every time she goes for a cleaning. Her dentist’s office has a waiting room that is eternally full of screaming children, rather than soft lighting and mood music the way that Silky’s is. She has half a mind to sidle up to the bitch receptionist and ask for a switch, not that the woman would be inclined to accommodate her in the least.
“Hey, mind if my good sis Vanj comes in, too? I wanna squeeze her hand while y’all are drilling into my poor tooth.” Silky nudges Plastique as she says it.
“Aw Silky, c’mon!” Vanessa can’t help the whiny voice that leaves her in protest. She’d been planning on using Silky’s appointment to enjoy the strange calmness of the waiting room while swiping through her Tinder, hoping that the rich vibe of the room would find her a rich girl to go along with it.
“Of course she can.” Plastique looks like she’s trying to hold back a laugh as she looks between the two of them, Silky’s satisfied grin and Vanessa’s pout and crossed arms making them look like a sitcom duo.
Silky sticks out a hand, grabbing Vanessa’s arm and pulling her up into a standing position. Vanessa huffs. “Damn it, Silk.”
Plastique leads them down a hallway with exam rooms and an x-ray machine, and Vanessa can’t help her double take because she’s sure that she’s never seen a dentist’s office with hardwood flooring before. Plastique turns to them as they reach the last room on the left. “I’m sure Dr. Hytes will be just fine with it. We have an extra chair in each of the rooms.”
“Of course, not a problem.” The voice is right behind Vanessa, nearly making her jump and swear out loud as she turns around. The words get stuck in her throat, though, when she finds herself looking up, up, up, to make eye contact with a blonde bombshell who appears to be a lady Dr. McDreamy.
The woman’s hair is pulled back in an immaculate bun, sharp liner making the blue in her eyes pop as she looks down at Vanessa with an amused expression. She’s wearing stilettos, and from the quality of the stitching Vanessa can tell that they’re red bottomed without even having to turn them over.
No ring on her finger, though.
Vanessa gulps, before realizing that she normally has better game than this. She stands up straight, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She can feel Silky elbow her in warning, and can almost hear her voice in her ear (‘You really gotta flirt with anything in a skirt, huh?’), but she can’t help it. Screw her for wanting to look cute in front of a full on Amazonian goddess.
Dr. Hytes looks her up and down, and Vanessa has to try her best not to fidget under her gaze. She likes what she sees, apparently, from the way that the corners of her mouth turn up. “Yeah, you can stay.”
Vanessa likes her already.
Vanessa’s in the perfect spot to watch Dr. Hytes at work, sitting on Silky’s right side and letting her squeeze her hand. The majority of Dr. Hytes’ face is covered with a surgical mask but it doesn’t stop Vanessa from being completely enthralled, watching the way her eyes narrow as she focuses on her task.
“So.” Vanessa can’t help herself from breaking the silence as Dr. Hytes works, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly as Dr. Hytes lets out a hum in assent. “You been working here long?”
“Not too long.” Dr. Hytes’ voice is muffled behind her mask. “Took over this practice as my own about three years ago.”
Vanessa whistles. “Damn, you own this place? Good on you.”
She’s a rich bitch. A real rich bitch, and Vanessa is completely smitten.
Dr. Hytes lets out a snort. “I didn’t want to work under someone else forever, you know? This way I’m my own boss.”
Vanessa has to hold herself back from saying that Dr. Hytes can boss her around any time, if only because of potential workplace harassment issues and an inevitable lecture from Silky. Still, Vanessa doesn’t have that much impulse control. “Can’t believe Silky didn’t tell me that you were her dentist. I’d switch over to you in a heartbeat.”
Dr. Hytes looks up, and Vanessa has to ignore the way that just a simple gaze makes her heart turn over in her chest. “Would you now?”
“You taking care of me? I sure would.” She can’t help but preen when it makes Dr. Hytes laugh, her eyes crinkling.
“You sure you could be quiet long enough for me to do my work?”
“Hey!” Vanessa can’t help but pout in her direction. She leans forward, winking when Dr. Hytes looks at her. “I can listen when it counts, if I really want to.”
She’s sure as hell not talking about visiting the dentist anymore, and from the gleam in her eye, neither is Dr. Hytes.
Silky’s hand shoots out to lightly bat at Vanessa’s side, making her yelp. “What, Silk?”
Silky lets out a series of muffled grumbles, making Vanessa remember that she’s in no position to currently talk. Vanessa can’t help but snicker. “You were the one wanting me to come in with you and hold your hand. This is what you gotta deal with now.”
Silky lets out another grumble and Vanessa pats her hand. “There, there. Yell at me later when your mouth ain’t all numb.”
She puts Silky out of her misery by leaning back in her seat, going back to watching Dr. Hytes work. When Dr. Hytes seats Silky back up in her chair, removing her bib and then taking off her own mask and gloves, Vanessa’s almost sad that the appointment is almost over. Even though, looking at the clock, it’s been nearly an hour. Damn.  
Silky stands up, following Dr. Hytes out of the room as she grumbles about her lips being numb and about how Vanessa needs to learn to shut her mouth sometimes. She then walks over to the reception desk to pay, and Vanessa’s all set to follow when Dr. Hytes grabs her elbow. She spins Vanessa around so that she’s facing her, back leaning against the wall.
“You can’t be a patient of mine.”
Well, okay. Ouch. Vanessa can’t help the defiant edge in her voice when she answers her. “Why not?”
“Because then, I can’t do this.” Dr. Hytes pulls out a business card, turning it over and pressing it against the wall as she scrawls something on it. Vanessa nearly gapes when she sees that it’s a phone number, labelled B.
“Well, shit.” Vanessa can’t help her grin as she looks up at Dr. Hytes and takes the card, as if she’s not doing a complete happy dance on the inside. “Like what you see, huh, Doc?“
“So cocky.” Dr. Hytes murmurs the words in Vanessa’s ear, nearly making her shiver. “Don’t make me change my mind.”
“You get some of this, you’ll wanna come back for more. Trust.” Vanessa has to suppress a smirk when she sees the way Dr. Hytes’ eyes roam over her, as if they’re not in a crowded office with hygienists and dentists and patients walking by them every other second.
“You’ll have to prove those words, then. I’ll look forward to it.” Dr. Hytes steps back then, turning on her heels to walk back down the hall, but not without one last look towards Vanessa. Hook, line, and sinker.
Vanessa waits until Dr. Hytes has slipped into another room, out of view of the hallway before doing a small fist pump. Dr. Hytes is leagues ahead of anyone else that she could have matched with on Tinder had she sat in the waiting room, hands down.
Silky stumbles towards Vanessa as they leave the office and head towards her car, hand still cradling the side of her own face. “What is that?”
Her voice is slightly slurred from the mouth numbing as she snatches the card in Vanessa’s hand. “Bitch, are you kidding me? You picked up my dentist? How the hell did you pick up my fucking dentist?”
Silky’s look is incredulous, and Vanessa can’t help her shit eating grin, shimmying in place as they walk. “It’s the Vanj charm, Silk. Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?”
“Ugh. Me, that’s who.” Silky dodges her shove, tossing her the keys. “Drive me home, you fucking lesbian Casanova. Unbelievable.”
Vanessa’s in a much better mood on the drive home from the dentist than she had been on the way there, the McDonalds promised earlier somehow the absolute farthest thing from her mind. And hey, if she’s a bit eager and texts Dr. Hytes that same night, who’s to judge? Especially when Dr. Hytes’ reply comes in almost immediately, dropping the name of a restaurant that Vanessa knows has a waitlist and of course Dr. Hytes is the kind of person who doesn’t even need a reservation. Silky may have gotten her cavity fixed, but Vanessa’s the one who’s going to be able to vouch for Dr. Hytes’ sublime bedside manner, if she happens to get her way tonight. Which, by how interested Dr. Hytes had seemed in her earlier, she certainly is.
45 notes · View notes
Text
Christmas in Lights | Junmyeon (part 1)
Tumblr media
Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Neighbor!AU 
Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader Word Count: 2701 Warnings: None! Summary: Kim Junmyeon has been your sworn enemy ever since he beat you in the annual town Halloween decorating competition and now you will stop at nothing to beat him in the Christmas decorating competition. (This is part 1 of a 2 part story)
A/N: This was written as part of the @exo-writers-net December Collab Event! I was lucky enough to be partnered with @morkmywords I absolutely love all of her fics (I personally recommend Not Really a Cinderella Story and Peaches). And we’re sorta down to the wire on posting these, but better late than never, right??? @morkmywords wrote part 2!
PART 2 HERE
You looked up from your paperwork when the door to your office opened. Walking in the door was Kim Seju, a third grader and also your most frequent visitor. He was holding his elbow and had a small frown.
"Miss (Y/N)?" He asked with a frown.
You gave him a smile, "How's it going, Seju?"
He held out his arm out toward you, "I fell down and scraped my arm while I was playing tag."
You pressed your lips together, trying to not laugh as you reached for your first aid kit. This was the third time this week. This kid always got hurt in some way. Good thing your
He went over to his usual chair in the office and sat down next to you as you opened up the kit. You started to clean his scrape with the alcohol wipe. You started to talk to him to distract him from the pain.
"Any plans for winter break, Seju?" You asked, careful to not press down too hard to cause him more pain.
Seju winced, "Not really. It'll just be me and my dad this year. Dad doesn't have a girlfriend this year or anything so we don't have to go anywhere which is nice."
You nodded as Seju rambled on. You had already placed the bandage on his scrape but he didn't notice. You couldn't help but find his rambling endearing. At the mention of the lack of holiday plans, you had to hold yourself from scowling.
"So you and your dad are just staying home this year, huh?" You asked, a little bitter.
Seju looked at you, confused. "Yeah? But what about you, Miss (Y/N)?"
You shrugged, "I don't have any plans with family. My sister decided to go to the Bahamas with her husband. So I'm all alone this year."
For the third year in a row, you couldn't help but think bitterly. Well, you could blame it on her lavish lifestyle. She had certainly changed ever since she won the lottery.
Then again, she did gift you a house that you wouldn't have been able to afford on a school nurse salary. It was in a nice neighborhood, though you couldn't help but think it was probably the cheapest one.
You didn't have any actual plans for Christmas, but you had more important plans leading up to it. Possibly diabolical ones.
As if summoned by your thoughts, the door to your office opened again.
Walking in wearing a dark gray suit was Kim fucking Junmyeon.
He looked around the office confused until his gaze rested on you. He smiled wide, his eyes crinkling slightly.
"Knew I'd find you here," he said.
Not at you. But the boy sitting next to you.
"Dad!" Seju exclaimed, jumping out of his seat super fast and running to his father.
You watched as Junmyeon bent down to give Seju a hug. And if it were any other parent, you would have found this a cute scene.
Junmyeon locked eyes with you over Seju's shoulder, smirking. It made you seethe.
"What are you doing here?" Seju asked when he pulled away from the hug.
Junmyeon smiled and patted his son's head. "I'm pulling you out of school for your dentist appointment, remember?"
Seju pouted. "I hate going to the dentist."
Junmyeon laughed. "Well, if you don't have cavities, we can make cookies tonight, okay?"
"Really?"
"Of course!"
The bell rang, signaling the end of recess. Junmyeon nudged his son. "You go get your stuff and meet me back here, okay? I already talked to the office and your teacher."
"Okay!" Seju exclaimed, running out of the office. "Be back!"
Part of you hoped that Junmyeon would leave or wait outside, so your veins thrummed when he simply hung around.
"You going to the meeting later?" Junmyeon asked, leaning on your desk. You wanted nothing more than to smack his arms away.
"Do I really have a choice? Minseok would skin me alive if I skipped," you scoffed.
Minseok never forgave poor Baekhyun when he skipped a neighborhood community meeting to sleep early. He had put Baekhyun on cleanup duty for the three months after.
You locked eyes with him and he smirked. You wanted to slap it off of his face.
"I think he's going to announce the Christmas decorating contest tonight. Are you prepared to lose again? Ready for a repeat of Halloween?" he teased.
If you were a cartoon, steam would have been coming out of your ears. He laughed at your expression.
Seju opened the door once again, his backpack haphazardly thrown on. "You ready to go, Dad?"
"Yeah, let's go, buddy." He went to the door but turned around and winked at you. "I'll see you later, Miss (Y/N)."
Seju waved at you enthusiastically. "Have a good day, Miss (Y/N)! Thank you for the band-aid!!"
You gave the child a small wave back. You also tried not to look at Junmyeon's butt as he walked away.
You failed.
Shit.
Neighborhood community meetings were always interesting. You figured it was a perk to knowing everyone It gave you the chance to see people you were otherwise too busy to see due to differing schedules. Like Zhang Yixing, who travelled a lot but always made time to come to each meeting. And Do Kyungsoo, who always made enough food for everyone. Especially after the time Jongin was in charge of the food and gave everyone food poisoning because of bad fried chicken. It also gave everyone the opportunity to gossip like the catty housewives they pretended they wanted to be. Like Kim Jongdae, who was once again passive-aggressive in telling Chanyeol that his bushes were three inches too high for regulation. You had no idea if Chanyeol was playing dumb or if he genuinely didnt pick up what Jongdae was trying to tell him. You sat towards the back of the hall that was usually used for these meetings. You looked up when you felt someone take the seat next to you. Oh Sehun slumped in his seat, which you found odd because he usually had perfect posture. He sipped at his coffee that was usually provided at these meetings. His eye bags were dark and extreme. "Everything okay?" You asked. "I've been up for thirty hours," he mumbled. "Why?" He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by Minseok who stood at the podium. He looked adorable in his Santa hat. "I'm glad that everyone could make it today!" He greeted warmly. "We have a bit to talk about today but I'll cut to the chase with our more exciting news. We are hosting another round of our Christmas decorating contest!" You squeezed the hem of your skirt tightly in anticipation. "This year's theme is Lights! So make sure you make your house light up the night this year!"  Minseok announced. He rambled on but your eyes trailed over to where you knew Junnyeon was sitting. You had been hyper aware of him ever since he entered the room. He looked over and locked eyes with you, a growing smirk on his face. You scowled. What a dick. "Are you still mad about him beating you on Halloween?" Sehun asked, you could tell from his teasing tone that he was amused. "Of course. What's passed is past. I just think it was ridiculous that he won even though Nightmare Before Christmas is clearly a Christmas movie and not a Halloween movie," you scoffed. "You're such a sore loser," Sehun chuckled. "Just you watch asshole," you grumbled. "I'm gonna beat him this year."
To say that you and Junmyeon had a history would be ridiculous. You had known him for a little less than a year, and for most of it you thought that he was a perfect gentleman. He definitely had his cool and suave sides, accentuated by the way he dressed in his suits for work. There was a charm about him that drew you to him immediately. It also helped that he was incredibly attractive. You felt yourself melt every time he threw a smile toward you. You could say that you harbored a little tiny crush on him. And then Halloween happened. Your neighborhood was famous—borderline notorious—for the Christmas decoration contest held every year. And for the last five years (including the first year that the house was gifted to you by your millionaire sister) the title for Best Decorator had been yours for the last five years. You were gifted a reindeer shaped statuette each year with the title Best Decorator and the year etched under it on its base. It was perhaps a little bit overboard, but you appreciated the sentiment and had each statuette proudly displayed on the mantle of your fireplace. So when a Halloween version opened up this year, you gunned for first place as well. You spent a lot of time researching fog machines and projectors. You went to haunted houses with the intent on taking notes on how to successfully make a scary aura. You had thought that your only competition would be Sehun, who thought that TP-ing his own house counted as Halloween decorating. Oh, how wrong you were. Kim Junmyeon won the title for Best Halloween Decorator. He had managed to turn his front yard into a recreation of a Tim Burton movie seemingly overnight. You could see elements of both Nightmare Before Christmas and Beetlejuice in his decoration. And because of it, he stole the title from right under your nose. It took you until almost Thanksgiving to get over the loss, but you had acknowledged Junmyeon as your rival. You resolved to keep your title for Christmas and crush him. You still adored Seju though, even though the kid got hurt enough at school to where you worried over him, seeing him was still the only good part of your day sometimes. You unlocked the door to your car only to freeze at what was inside. You looked around confused until you found a tiny card on your dashboard and opened it. You immediately ripped the card in anger. A door opened next door, Sehun was walking out, presumably leaving for work. You dropped the pieces of card on the ground and charged at Sehun, your hands wrapping around his neck. He yelped in surprise. “Why did you help Junmyeon break into my car?” you growled. “How did you know?” Sehun asked, voice barely escaping in your grip. “Only you are crafty enough to break into a car without breaking a window.” His eyes suddenly shined at the odd compliment. You thought that it was weird that he was flattered. “You think I’m crafty?” You nodded. “Like how Kevin McCallister from Home Alone is crafty.” You let go of Sehun’s neck, he bent over to catch his breath. “But that’s beside the point! Why did you help him do it?” Sehun shrugged. “He just asked me to do it and I did. He didn’t tell me why.” “He left a bajillion Christmas themed pacifiers in my car,” you said, frustrated. “Along with a card that said, ‘You might need these for when I beat you in the contest.’” “This rivalry you guys have is the weirdest form of foreplay,” Sehun wheezed, rubbing his neck. “What are you talking about?” you asked. Sehun rolled his eyes. “C’mon, (Y/N), it’s clear that you two have a thing for each other.” “I do not have a thing for Kim Junmyeon!” you exclaimed angrily, uncaring if the entire neighborhood heard you. “The way you stare at his butt begs to differ,” Sehun muttered bitterly. You rolled your eyes. In another world you thought you and Sehun would be a good match, but his interests more aligned with musicians who wore too many muscle shirts. Before you could open your mouth to reply—probably to tease him about his petty jealously—Sehun’s front door opened again, revealing Chanyeol who strided over to Sehun with his signature grin. “Sehun-ah!” he called out. He handed Sehun a paper bag. “You forgot your lunch.” Sehun smiled, eyes squinting into crescents. “Thank you, hyung. I appreciate it.” You looked back and forth between them. Sehun, as if remembering what was happening and where he was, looked at you panicked. “This isn’t what it looks like?” You quirked an eyebrow, “Good, because I don’t have the emotional capacity to unpack this right now. Just don’t help Junmyeon break into my shit ever again.” You turned around and stomped away. “I have an ass to beat this Christmas!” “Kinky!” Sehun yelled to your retreating back. You flipped him off.
You opened the door to see Seju shuffling nervously, holding a giant plastic bag in his hands. You blinked, confused, before shaking it off. You smiled, "Seju, how is your break going?" "Good, Miss (Y/N)!" Seju answered enthusiastically. He thrust the plastic bag at you. "I made these for you!" The contents of the bag looked questionable. Inside looked what appeared to be black star-shaped lumps. You hesitated to take them, but you didn't want to hurt Seju's feelings. "Thank you, Seju. What are these?" You asked. He tilted his head at you, confused. "Can't you tell? They're cookies!" You gulped before putting on a stronger, faker, smile. "Of course they are, how silly of me." "I made them to thank you for taking care of me!" Seju grinned. You were touched by the sentiment. "You're very welcome, Seju. Just be more careful when school starts back up again, okay?" Seju nodded, "Okay!" Deep down, you knew that nothing much would change. Seju waved goodbye as he went back to his house, leaving you with the bag of lump-shaped cookies. You closed the door and sighed. Should you throw them away? Another knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You opened the door again, surprised to see Junmyeon at your doorstep. He was most certainly dressed down. He wore a plain white shirt with gray sweatpants. His hair, not styled, was pushed out of his face by a headband. His hands were behind his back, and you could see the tiniest peek at how defined his chest was. How did he still look so good even in casual clothes? "Hi?" You asked. "What are you doing here?" Junmyeon sighed. "Whatever you do, do not eat those cookies." He revealed another plastic bag from behind his back. This time, you could clearly see that they were cookies. You gingerly took them from his outstretched hands. "Why are you being so nice to me?" You asked with a glare. Junmyeon shrugged. "My son likes you." You rolled your eyes. "You're just buttering me up so that I could let my guard down for the competition." His lips quirked up in a teasing smile. "Is it working?" "As if," you huffed. "Delicious sweets won't work on me." You were about to slam the door in his face but stopped yourself. "Thank you, though," you mumbled. "I had no idea what I was going to do with Seju's cookies." Junmyeon smiled bigger this time, more genuine. "My pleasure, (Y/N)."
You walked out on your front porch and screamed. "What the hell is this?!" You dont know how, but overnight your front yard had become a reenactment of Nightmare Before Christmas. You had come face to face with Jack Skellington in a Santa costume, smiling in a way that unsettled you. There was a note sticking on his chest with your name written in neat scrawl. You instantly recognized the writing. You opened the note. 'You're right, Nightmare Before Christmas is much more of a Christmas movie than a Halloween movie. Maybe if I gave you these you'd stand a chance at beating me. --Junmyeon' You crushed the note in your hand and pushed Jack Skellington over, screaming. You spied Sehun out of the corner of your eye, who raised his hands in surrender and shook his head, wanting to let you know that he had nothing to do with this one. You stomped over to the rest of the decorations, pulling them down. Kim Junmyeon just struck your last nerve.
PART 2
34 notes · View notes
shookethbrooketh · 6 years
Text
Philip Lester, D.D.S.
Summary: Phil loved dentistry, but it was one of the loneliest jobs he could have in his mind. He met so many people, but he saw them all so infrequently that he never got to know any of them, until one particular patient by the name of Daniel Howell caught his eye and his mind. 
Rating: G
Genre: AU, Dentist!Phil x Patient!Dan
Warnings: None
Word Count: 1.4k
Challenge: Anti-Trope Challenge
A/N: In case you all were confused by my change in format, this is a fic I wrote for the @phanfichallenge! I got inspiration for this from the trip I had to the dentist yesterday.... Good luck. 
Read it on Ao3! Read it on Wattpad! 
Life was a bit boring for Phil. It’s not that he didn’t like his job; dentistry just got a bit repetitive. He barely even got to know any patients; it was the hygienists that spent more time in the room with the patients. All he did was look at x-rays, look at a patient’s teeth for about a minute, say a few words no patient would ever understand for the hygienists to put into the computer, and leave. He interacted with so many people, yet he was still lonely. 
Phil sat down that morning in his office, coffee cup in hand. It was ironically full of sugar, but nobody had to know that. At least their dentist was awake and competent. As he did every morning, he brushed his black fringe out of his eye and opened his computer to his schedule. He would never be able to remember it, but it was always good to get a feel for what his day would be like ahead of time. He glanced through, noting when all his fillings were taking place. His eyes finally settled on one afternoon appointment: one for a man by the name of Daniel Howell. 
One of Phil’s least favorite things about his job was that he only saw people every six months tops unless they needed a cavity filled or something of that nature, so he never really got to know anyone; he simply pretended he did every time they walked in the door. However, Daniel, or Dan, as he remembered the man liked to be called, stood out. 
He clicked on the man’s name, his computer taking him to his files. The previous appointment had been his first one there, so he only had one set of notes to read through. 
Good check-up; teeth very healthy and clean. Completely straightened, although claims to have never had braces. Also seemingly whitened. Seemed to enjoy the cleaning more than most; possible fetish. 
Phil chuckled at the end, a vivid image of Dan in his mind. In all honesty, he was quite attractive; that was Phil’s first thought seeing him six months ago, his first thought seeing him again in his head, and he was sure it would be his first thought seeing him later in the day. Phil envied his naturally curly, brown locks and chocolate brown eyes. He remembered his sense of style to be nothing but black, but in an aesthetic way. It was odd for Phil how well he remembered the man, but it happened every now and then; he started to fall for a patient, then they didn’t come back for six months. It was his job; he’d given up on it by that point. 
Phil spent the rest of the morning preoccupied with Dan’s appointment. That was probably a horrible thing, as his focus definitely should have been on accurately filling his patients’ cavities, but he’d been doing it long enough that he was sure it went fine. He was just stuck absentmindedly working through his day with his only coherent thoughts being of Dan. His appointment was the last of the day, so he had to continue to suffer through likely botched fillings, but the time finally rolled around for Dan’s appointment. 
It almost pained him knowing Dan was in the building getting his teeth cleaned by a hygienist while he was busy doing yet another filling, but he’d get to see Dan soon. He had an overwhelming amount of fillings to do that day; they were almost getting boring. That patient would be his last one of the day, then he would see Dan and go home. However, when he walked into the room he found a few complications. 
The patient couldn’t have been older than ten, and she was overly nervous and talkative. “It’s my first filling,” he kept hearing her say. Phil and all the hygienists surrounding him were desperately attempting to quiet her down and calm her about the laughing gas they were going to be forced to give her for her restlessness, but it was almost pointless. “You’re not going to have to put me to sleep, are you?” “Am I going to have this thing in my tooth forever?” It was a spiral of countless repeated questions, and by the time they calmed her down and started the procedure, Phil’s watch told him he was supposed to see Dan in about ten minutes. The procedure would take at least 15 minutes, and he still had to look at Dan’s x-rays. He hated being late, especially for him, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. 
The filling felt like the slowest Phil had ever done; he did it as quickly and flawlessly as he could, but it still seemed to Phil like it lasted an eternity. It was really only 20 minutes, but the moment he finished he left the hygienists to deal with the girl and threw off his gloves and mask, discarding them in the trash and dashing out to his office. He spun down into his rolling chair, pulling up to his computer and opening a tab of Dan’s x-rays. He sure Dan had already been waiting a good ten minutes, so he scanned them as quickly as he could. It wasn’t as if there was much to be noticed. There was the beginning of a cavity, but it wasn’t anything to be worried about. 
He leaped from his chair, closing his tab and slowing himself to a walk as he made his way down the hallway to the room he knew Dan would be in. Trying to calm his breath, he stepped in the door. “I apologize for the delay, I was busy filling a tooth. Dan, is it?” 
“Yeah,” he said, showing his perfect smile. “Nice to see you again, Dr. Lester.” 
“Call me Phil.” The hygienist in the room shot Phil a glance, knowing well that he didn’t usually say that to his patients. “Uh, anyway, let’s take a look at your teeth.” 
“Gladly,” Dan said, opening his mouth yet somehow still smirking. Phil threw on some gloves and began examining his teeth. He noted how pretty his soft, brown eyes were up close, and cringed a moment at his chapped lips. Maybe he had some chapstick he could leave for him. Dan had a look on his face that was almost euphoric, and every now and then he let out a low growl. It was odd, no doubt about that. But it was entertaining to Phil; it was something new, and he almost found it cute. 
“Nothing to report,” he said to the hygienist, who was poised to write his reports into the computer. He tossed his gloves in the trash and turned to Dan. “I looked at your x-rays, and everything looked good. There was, however, one little cavity I think we should fill.” He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He never has patients fill cavities that small. Why did he say that?
“Since when do you fill-” the hygienist butted in. 
“Shush!” Phil said, glancing nervously around the room. 
Dan simply wore a chapped smile. “If you want to see me again you can just give me your number.” 
Phil went beet red, his stare flashing back and forth between the Dan and the hygienist. They were both focused on him, as if they were waiting for him to respond. Phil sighed, pulling a pen out of his pocket, grabbing a nearby appointment card, and jotting his number down on the back of it. “Text me later.” 
Mortified, Phil dashed out of the room and back to his office, banging his head down on the desk. A few minutes later, he got a text from an unknown number. 
hey dentist boy. yknow, i’ve got a bit of a repressed teeth scraping kink, and you seem pretty cool. wanna go see a movie? 
Phil reread the text a solid ten times; every single word was another hill on the massive rollercoaster of a first text he received. He put the number in his phone under the contact name ‘repressed teeth scraping kink’ and packed up his things to go home to procrastinate responding before finally giving in as he walked to his car. 
Friday night sound good? 
75 notes · View notes
Text
Soda and Dental Health: Dangers and Damage Prevention
Tumblr media
Perhaps it's obvious that something referred to as "Mountain Dew mouth" isn't positive. The problem is that dentists throughout California are seeing varying degrees of it (also called "soda mouth") more frequently than ever. Health specialists consider the popular drink Mountain Dew as one of the main reasons for high rates of tooth decay and other dental problems.
Why Soda Is Bad for Your Teeth
Sodas contain high amounts of sugar (corn syrup is also a sugar). Naturally-occurring bacteria inside your mouth thrive in the presence of excessive sugar. In the process, they make harmful acids that wreak havoc on your oral health, especially on the protective outer layer of your teeth called enamel. When oral bacteria penetrate through your weakened enamel, a small hole forms to begin a cavity. If neglected, even a single cavity can lead to severe pain and tooth loss.
You might be asking yourself, "If I switch to diet soda, I'll eliminate the problem, right? Wrong.
Drinking any form of soda (energy drinks included) subjects you to consuming acids found in the drink itself. Carbonic, citric, and phosphoric acids are some of the ingredients in sugared and sugar-free soda alike. And, although sugar is notorious for being the leading culprit behind tooth decay, acids such as those mentioned can be equally — or more — harmful to your teeth, especially since they possess the ability to erode enamel and the layer underneath (dentin).
How to Prevent Soda-Related Tooth Damage
Giving up your soda-drinking habits would remove a ruthless enemy to your oral health (and your overall health). However, if eliminating soda is not a practical choice for you (although most health experts recommend it), there are many ways to combat the negative effects of soda on your teeth.
1. Have an after-soda strategy
If you love soda and can't give it up just yet, you need to create an anti-tooth decay strategy to follow after each beverage. For instance, you can drink a glass of water or rinse your mouth with clean water or a mouthwash to reduce the soda residue on your teeth.
As for brushing your teeth after drinking soda, remember to wait for 30 minutes before doing so. When you sip on soda, its acids begin reacting with the surface of your teeth almost instantly, which makes them vulnerable to cavities and other dental problems. A 2009 study supports this claim, concluding that tooth brushing right after drinking soda can worsen the effects of acidic beverages.
2. Limit your consumption to once a day (or less)
Those who drink soda throughout the day are constantly giving sugar and acids the opportunity to ruin their teeth. If you must drink soda, limit it to a short period of time, such as pairing it with one of your main means instead of every meal and snack. But this is not a stamp of approval to drink as much as you can in one sitting. As much as possible, limit your soda consumption to a standard serving per day.
To make things easier for you, it may help to rid your home of soda cans and bottles so that you don't find yourself reaching for them throughout the day.
3. Replace soda with another satisfying beverage
Allow us to point out the obvious: water doesn't have the harmful sugars and acids that popular sodas like Mountain Dew, Coke, or Pepsi contain. It's also free of charge (if we're strictly talking about municipal tap water). If plain water isn't to your liking, you can also choose from a variety of delicious soda alternatives beyond water. But remember that when it boils down to the best beverage for your health, water wins hands down.
4. Keep a water bottle as your daily companion
If you have some ice-cold water within reach at all times, you might not even think about or miss soda. As soon as you get up each morning, fill an insulated tumbler (or any drinking container with a lid) with water, and ensure it stays by your side throughout the day. Having a water bottle right next to you at all times may help you drink more water than soda. If you still end up with a can of soda in hand, having a water bottle in the other should help you eliminate some of the sugar residues in your mouth. So go drink that H20!
5. Visit your dentist twice a year
Alongside good oral hygiene, prioritizing dental checkups every six months can go a long way in keeping your teeth strong, white, and healthy. If your dentist detects a soda-related issue, he or she can implement measures to prevent it from worsening. Your dentist in Irvine and Montclair, CA can also provide helpful tips and insights on how to reduce the harmful effects of soda.
A Final Word of Advice
If you're like half of America's population, the chances are high that you've had a sugary drink today — and it was probably soda. Aside from damaging your teeth, keep in mind that drinking a high-sugar beverage is also associated with weight gain, obesity, and type 2 diabetes. Moreover, one study revealed a striking resemblance between Mountain Dew mouth and meth mouth. To make matters worse, according to a recent study, people who drink more than two glasses of soda a day have a high risk of premature death.
If you have to drink soda or any soft drink, do your best to do it in moderation and protect your overall health in the process.
General and Cosmetic Dentists in Irvine-Montclair, CA
Cunning Dental Group's main purpose is to provide you with the highest quality dental services in Southern California. Our dentists provide individualized general and cosmetic dentistry for the whole family. So, whether your child needs braces or your father needs dental implants, we can get the job done. Call us today at (855) 328-6646 or write to us online to schedule your dental appointment and take the first step toward a healthier, more confident smile.
0 notes
Text
Ice Floes
Quickly, before we begin: 1. this is a mostly-true anecdote that ties together several different, ideas I’ve had in the last two-ish days, including... 2. There are no ice floes here, it’s a reference to senecide in certain cultures (rarely practiced in Norhern Tribes and never practiced in the usual, “Send Grandma floating away on a chunk of ice!” way).
So, the first concept idea for this pieces my younger brother, Andy, who is working this summer s a fire-spotter in Idaho and/or Montana (he’s stationed in a national park that covers really big portions of both states). This is a cool, Norman Maclean manly-man style job for a grad student, and we were all fairly certain Andy would like his job (which, as a per-diem, is hard to beat, I’ll admit), and we’d all love to drop in and say hello, except I’m in very specific chemo ward 3-4 times a month (and that last week when I don’t have chemo, I still have to get them to draw my blood and run labs), so my schedule’s a little hard to work. And I started joking that, with our family’s luck, Andy would wind up in someplace with a name like ‘Dead Man’s Gulch” or “Rattleasnake Ridge” (remember that line) that we’d just as soon not bother with. Well, parents won’t be discouraged, so Dad’s thinking he might scratch off a bucket list item AND visit Andy... by backpacking to him (or near him). Which, even though he’s a nut for the treadmill, is not exactly the first phyisical task you’d nominate Dad for if you saw him in person. However, he’s decided to start training to address that very problem. Also, Andy’s fire station is somewhere in the Rattlesnake Mountains. I’m absolutely not making that up, Also, since my more-twisted jokes are apparently reshaping reality in their wake, I’d like to joke that I’ll be a multi-gabillionaire in a few years after someone reclassifies these scribbles as science-fiction.
One of the issues/questions I’m faced with all the time (aside from, “Why did we catch you tying truck nuts to Deputy Pierson’s police vehicle*?”) is how much of my time I really do devote to staying healthy and managing your disease/prescriptions/insurance/appointments. The short answer is, almost all of it. I know I spent a post last week essentially boasting how healthy I was, apart from having Stage IV cancer. What’s important is to know is that I take a weird sort of pride in that, and, as Dad has pointed out, in most cancer cases, the death/survival rate refers to elderly people who have other diseases or health issues in addition to cancer; he hasn’t heard of patients who get chemotherapy, then go for a 3-hour leg day the next day (I’d point out that having a pediatric cancer - as I did, sort of (another brain tumor) has serious long-term health implications for survivors, and now that I’m having toxic sludge pumped through me on  regular basis has a few more long-term associated-problems that I’d like to avoid. The point is, it is slowly starting to dawn on me that he might have a point, and I’m definitely doubling down on that bet, too. Which Dad knows, and knows I’ll be up for any dangerous stunt, as long as there’s even a minor probability of increased healthfulness. Which is why Dad and my step-mom invited me on Dad’s inaugural training hike; The Path of Pain (that’s not the official name, but it’s more accurate than the real thing). Now, bit of context; it’s not true that the Inuit would kill people by putting them on an ice flow and then sending them off. What is accurate - from my sources  - is that in times of famine, some Northern tribes (probably including the Inuit) would suddenly decamp in the middle of the night without telling Grandma and Grandpa. effectively leaving them to the mercy of the elements and luck/fate (to be fair, if the grandparents made it to the new camp, they were honored and informed of all future camp locations). So, I was aware of this when the following conversation occurred: SELF: This hike isn’t one of those obscure traditions where you’re going to leave the sick, infirm, and old - the societal deadwood, if you will - out in the elements to save the rest from starvation or something, is it? DAD: No. Why, are you worried we’d leave you behind? SELF: Nope, just stating - on behalf of the ill - that I have absolutely no intention of being out-distanced by the old just so I can be dire wolf bait. Also, I am absolutely prepared to lie and cheat in the name of that goal. Other people probably have better father-son chats. Other people are boring.
So, before I start describing the festivities - which involve a severe and horrifying betrayal - I might need to describe my disability status, and disability as it stands. GBM diagnosis is an automatic disability according to social security, because of that whole “really, really, high fatality rate and incredibly fast progression (although I’m okay now - I think, maybe - when I fist met Radiation Oncologist, she said the tumor had a 20% growth rate, which means it would double in size every five or so days - I shudder to think how bad, how quickly that could’ve gotten). And, even though I’m mostly-fine at the moment, for the first two weeks after my neurosurgery, I couldn’t walk. This was because I was completely numb on my left side for that time. Remember the last time you got a cavity filled and the dentist used novocaine? Imagine that sensation - or lack thereof - throughout your left side. Walking was a problem because I had no idea where my feet were (unless I was looking). I’ve come a long, long way since then, but that was not even eight months ago (before anyone asks, after a rather dismal showing by the physical therapists at the hospital, I haven’t been doing anything special to recover, other than exercising like my life depends on it). So, testing it on a steep, dangerous slope seemed bright.
Those of you who’ve been hiking with me probably have no trouble picturing the image. I don’t exactly skip up paths, but I do power through them the same grim, pig-headed determination that I’m bringing to the rest of this damned disease. The peak in question is about 1500 ft - not a prize-winner, to be sure, but it’s not a bad accomplishment for someone who couldn’t even go 150 feet not too long ago.
Tumblr media
Now, with that smirking sense of triumph and gold star accomplishment, imagine my dismay when my wicked step-mother announced that this wasn’t the goal of the hike, the actual peak we were looking for was... 22 miles away. Okay, so that’s a bit of an exaggeration, the sum-total route was six miles, all on difficult trail. Greek heroes in classic tragedies endured less betrayal.
Now it would’ve been well within my power to request to go back; but, at that moment, I was feeling physically good at marching a mile in less than an hour, and that sensation somehow fused with testosterone, the Stetson, and male vanity, so, even though I knew at the time it might not be a good idea, all I could do was just grimly forge on with a few complaints. Good news, after a severe challenge to my dexterity, balance, and endurance, I’m still mostly-intact. I’m painfully sore from the waist down (I’ve said before, I’ll say it again, why isn’t codeine OTC in this Godforsaken country like it is in every civilized place on the planet). Left leg (and side) are not too bad, but the right foot’s killing me (I’ve tried stretching and rolling it on my yoga roller, which helped, but it’s still not up to snuff) - when I first got out of the car after arriving home (it’s a California thing; we drive for an hour to walk), I couldn’t, because that stupid right heel was too tender, And after all this, my reward to myself was an extra beer and another Tylenol. What have I become? Anyway, Dad and I have quietly agreed that sitting up and getting out of bed should definitely count as a trip to the gym (he’s also ordered a tree that’s sitting by the garage, so there’s a distinct possibility he has darker plans in store for me), and I’m personally going to try and keep my step-mother from any and all topographic maps. Still, you can’t outpace time and you’ll die if you ignore new constraints placed by disease, so I’ll look into some sort of walking stick (I spent the first five minutes back in the car slumped in the driver’s side because that’’s how achey/creeky I felt all on the left) before attempting anything that stupid and arduous again *I’ll credit Dad with this joke when he discovered that you can get a discount on these items if you order them online in bulk
#u
1 note · View note
mishallaneously · 7 years
Text
brush twice a day
Vladimir Putin grumbled as his iPhone alarm sounded. Who had changed it to marimba? Marimba was the worst.
He slid his satin eyemask off one eye and blearily blinked into the morning light streaming through his curtains. Useless fucking curtains, he thought. He flopped back on the mountain of pillows behind him. Five more minutes, he swore to himself. Five more minutes and then he’d be ready to lead the greatest country in the world again. Five more minutes and he could go back to plotting the inevitable downfall of the West.
He’d just tucked himself back under the covers when a tentative knock sounded at the door. He groaned.
“Sir, your dentist’s appointment is scheduled this afternoon.”
Putin’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. He hated the dentist almost as much as he hated capitalism.
“Reschedule it!” He called back.
“You’ve rescheduled it four times already, sir.”
“Next week is better for me. I’m busy.” A lie, but his word was law so.
There was a pause on the other side of the door. “Actually, you have that whole thing with the sabotage of the American election next week. Today is literally the only day we can do it.”
Govno. Shit. He forgot it was almost November.
“Fine.” Putin worried his lip between his teeth.
He sat at the breakfast table and stared at his plate, stony faced.
“I’ve told you a thousand times I don’t eat toast unless the crust is cut off,” he spat at a passing servant with thinly restrained fury.
She jumped and fumbled for the plate before darting out of the room.
His aide, Aleksandr, tutted from across the room.
“You have something to say?”
Aleksander froze. He shook his head quickly, no.
“Good.” Putin smoothed the napkin in his lap.
By the time the new, crustless toast arrived Putin was hardly hungry. Fear had sated his appetite. Regardless, for his aide’s benefit, he smeared butter and jam in globs across the surface and, while making direct eye contact with Aleksandr, took a long, pronounced bite. He finished the whole plate that way.  It stirred something pleasant in him to see the aide uncomfortable.
Putin tapped his fingers in an endless disjointed rhythm across the lacquered desktop in his study.
“What time is it?” He snapped at his aide.
“A quarter to the hour, sir.”
“Fetch me my toothbrush.”
“Again?” Putin had brushed his teeth two times since breakfast. He hated brushing his teeth.
“Yes, again.” He bit back.
Aleksandr sat patiently next to the desk with the spit cup in hand while Putin brushed. He knelt with the cup held up like a sacrificial offering while the president spat into it. His eyes were closed tightly and he jumped a little when Putin reached a rough, leathery hand to caress his cheek.
“Good.” Putin whispered. Aleksandr shuddered but remained stationary, as if he were caught in Medusa’s gaze. Putin smiled softly, tracing a thumb over the apple of Aleks’ cheek. The slight tremble in his aide sent satisfaction running down his spine.
“Did you remember to floss?” Aleksandr stammered.
The color drained from Putin’s face.
He responded flatly. “No.”
“You probably should, dentist’s always ask.” Aleksandr stood, then, smoothing the pleats of his pants.
Putin crossed his arms stiffly across his chest. He would not do it.
“It’s a good preventor of gingivitis, you know.”
Putin shot out of his seat and took an imposing step toward Aleksandr who backed himself into the wall.
“I am the President of this fucking country and I say it is not of import.” He glowered at his aide.
A buzzer broke the tension, startling both parties. “The President’s 11 ‘o'clock appointment is here,” a voice crackled over the line.
Putin’s eyes widened. His frame shrunk as his shoulders hunched and he slumped back into his chair.
There was a knock at the door and Aleksandr made to leave.
“No. You stay.” Putin mustered as much authority as he could. He eyed Aleksandr’s hand; how comforting would it be to hold it during this process? After a moment’s hesitation he brushed off the feeling. He was the President of Russia, goddammit.
Aleksandr clung to the perimeter of the room as the dentist strode in.
The lab coat was starched and freshly white. It gleamed like an idyllic pearly white tooth, the opposite of what lay beyond the barrier of Putin’s lips. The black case in the dentist’s grasp loomed like it contained the nation’s nuclear launch codes. It didn’t, of course, those were safe from dentist-kind, Putin was fairly certain.
Putin stood as the dentist — he had never remembered his name and quite honestly didn’t care enough to learn it at this point — bowed his head in respect.
“Shall we?” The Dentist motioned for Putin to settle back into his chair. He didn’t like the mischievous, knowing flicker he saw in the man’s eye.
Putin begrudgingly opened his mouth for The Dentist. His eyes darted to Aleksandr. For the record, these dentist visits were the only times a man had been in his mouth. Or inside him at all. Hand to god.
The Dentist hummed as he poked and prodded at Putin’s pearly whites in search of cavities. Putin despised his confidence; The Dentist had no fear around him, the most fearsome man in the country, maybe the world. He should have The Dentist threatened maybe, for good measure. Just to rattle him into submission a little. A good intimidation always settled Putin’s nerves.
“Everything seems to be in order, Mr. President.”
Putin exhaled in relief.
“One last thing, though.” The Dentist squinted as he looked closer at Putin’s mouth. “Have you been flossing?”
His eyes widened. He dare not look at Aleksandr. He heard him snort and attempt to cover it up as a sneeze.
“Yes.” Putin lied around the latex-covered fingers in his mouth.
“Every day?”
“Of course.” He said with as much conviction as possible. He was the President after all, he could have this man killed for doubting him.
“So this won’t hurt then.” And before Putin could react The Dentist was laying siege to Putin’s gums.
The floss felt like the barbed wire that fenced in the gulags. Putin yelped in pain and his gums leaked blood redder than the Communist Manifesto.
As a tear eked out from the corner of his eye, he flailed his hand out as if to knock The Dentist off balance. He was trained in judo, after all. But his hand connected with another and his fingers became entangled with other, masculine fingers.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Aleksandr who nodded softly. He dropped his hand and sighed, reveling in the feeling of their fingers laced together.
40 notes · View notes
dentalinfotoday · 7 years
Link
Now that you’ve made the decision to get a dental implant, you may be experiencing a little apprehension wondering what comes next, if it will hurt and how long it will take to recover. Relax. It’s easier than you think.
While a dental implant is by no means a simple procedure, just knowing what to expect will make all the difference.
The main steps of a dental implant
1. X-rays: The perfect picture
Your dentist needs x-rays for evaluative and prognostic purposes. X-rays, panoramic x-rays or  a 3D CT scan will be used to determine bone and gum condition and to identify any potential caveats. For an in-depth look at the different types of dental x-rays, click here.
2. Making a good impression
Your dentist will need to take an impression of your mouth which will provide a pretty good replica of your teeth, gums and surrounding tissues from which to work with. He or she will determine the right size plastic or metal impression tray for your mouth and fill it with a soft liquid such as alginate or polyvinyl siloxane. You will bite down on the U-shaped plastic or metal impression tray. The liquid will set after a minute or two and become a solid rubber mass. You will then open your mouth and the tray will be removed and sent to a lab for processing.
Keep in mind…
While most people have absolutely no problem, the impression process can be unpleasant for those who have an active gag reflex or experience panic over not being able to open their mouth or swallow properly.  Simple as it sounds, the best advice I can give is, don’t think about it! And, don’t be afraid to share your concerns with your dentist.
There are techniques to keep you from gagging or panicking. Breathe deeply through your nose and try to distract yourself. If there’s a TV in the room, focus on that. If there’s music playing, listen for the beat. Count. Play a game of golf in your head. Dream of the beach. Your dentist should also try to keep you sidetracked by talking to you, asking you questions (that you can’t answer because your mouth is full of gunk!) and assuring you that it’s “almost over.”   
Because it is. An impression doesn’t take as long as you imagine and, like many other dental procedures, your mind is your own worst enemy.
Remember too, that your dentist is on your side. If you feel the need for nitrous oxide, ask!
3. Tooth extraction: Now you see it, now you don’t
If the tooth in question still exists, it will need to be extracted. This can be done at the same as the implant insertion. Your dentist will explain what type of anesthesia he plans to use, but generally speaking, a local injection of lidocaine (what most patients still refer to as novocaine), will assure a pain-free procedure.  It doesn’t take long to pull a tooth, but if it is fractured, your dentist will be more cautious to avoid fragmentation. You will feel a little pressure and tugging as your dentist wiggles the tooth out.
For a minimum of 24 hours after the extraction you will be asked not to smoke, drink through a straw, spit excessively or blow your nose. Doing so can cause a dry socket and unnecessary pain.
4. Implant placement: The root of it all
After the tooth is extracted, your dentist will drill a hole in your jaw bone. This will feel not much different than having a cavity drilled. In some cases, your dentist may have to make an incision in your gum to expose the bone, in which case suturing will be necessary.
The dentist will insert the implant deep into your jaw bone. This serves as an artificial root for your new tooth.
Depending on the condition of your jaw bone, a bone graft may be necessary. Usually this can be done with artificial bone materials and is such a minor part of the implant process you won’t even know it’s happening.
Expect to be at this dental appointment for one to two hours. You’ll be fine to drive home and go about your daily routine following the procedure. However, you will most likely be restricted to a soft-food diet for up to a week.
5. Abutment placement: Let’s connect
As your jaw bone heals, it will fuse with the dental implant. This process can take several weeks or even months. There is no way of knowing in advance how long it will take and differs in every patient. Once your dentist has determined your implant is stable enough, an abutment is placed on top of it to serve as a connector to the crown.
The abutment is tightened with a dental torque wrench so that it remains in place during chewing. But, don’t worry, local anesthesia will keep you from feeling anything but a little bit of pressure!
In some instances, the abutment can be placed at the same time as the implant. However, because the abutment extends beyond the gum line it will be visible, so make sure you discuss this option with your dentist beforehand!  In other cases, a healing cap or healing abutment is used to keep tissue or bone from growing over the implant as osseointegration (the fusing of the bone and implant) takes place.
6. The crowning touch: Smile
Your permanent crown is attached to the abutment and voila! You’re done!
Does a dental implant hurt?
During the procedure, you shouldn’t feel any pain at all.  However, you will feel vibration from the drill, maybe a little pressure and lots of poking around.
After the anesthesia has worn off, you will definitely feel as though something has happened in your mouth. But, most people define it as discomfort rather than pain. You can expect to go about your daily routine after the procedure without a problem.
The truth of the matter is, most dental procedures are painless. It’s the anticipation and fear of the unknown that throw our minds into a spiral. When you are properly informed, have a dentist you trust and know what to expect, dental work really can be a pleasant experience.
But my dentist didn’t tell me…!
Every healthcare practitioner is responsible for educating their patient on exactly what will be done before a procedure and what to expect afterwards. That being said, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard just the opposite! I encourage you to do your research beforehand so you can have an educated discussion with your dentist.
5 tips for avoiding surprises
Jot down notes in your phone or in a notebook at the initial consultation.
Ask the office staff if there are any written materials on the implant procedure.
Do your research in advance!
Talk to someone who has had the procedure. Ask your dentist if there’s a patient who would be willing to share their experience with you.
Think of questions in advance and write them down!
6 things you need to know beforehand
Your jaw bone needs to heal! A dental implant is not a one-step process! There is a lot of waiting and watching to the procedure. It’s easy to get frustrated if you’re expecting this to be a one-and-done procedure.
You won’t leave the office with a tooth: While you won’t leave the office with a permanent crown, you don’t have to leave with a hole in your smile either. There are options for a temporary tooth including dental flippers, clear Essix or Snap-on Smile type of retainers or screwed or cemented temporary crowns.
Stock the fridge with soft foods: You may be restricted to a soft-food diet for a week, or longer. It is extremely important to let the implant settle. Even if you promise you’ll only chew on the other side, it is too easy to inadvertently forget and before you know it, you’ve crunched down on your implant. But, really, there are worse things than being told to eat ice cream! (Even though I wouldn’t recommend ice cream, since high sugar intake can actually slow your healing process. I’d recommend green smoothies and soups instead!)
You’ll need to stop at the pharmacy: You will probably be prescribed a dose of antibiotics to prevent infection.
Don’t book anything for the rest of the day: You won’t be given an exact time frame for how long the procedure, start-to-finish, will take. Everyone heals differently and there’s no way of predicting how fast that will happen for you.
No two mouths (or surgeries) are the same: Just because your sister-in-law needed a bone graft doesn’t mean you will!
The great news about implants? They represent one of the biggest advances in dentistry and, according to the American Association of Oral and Maxillofacial Surgeons, have an overall success rate of about 95%. Though it’s not a one-day procedure and the length of the healing process can be frustrating, there should be no pain involved.
Assuming all goes well, as it usually does, a dental implant will leave you with a very real-looking and functional tooth.
Dr. Mark Burhenne
The post Your First Dental Implant Procedure: What to Expect appeared first on Ask the Dentist.
from Ask the Dentist http://ift.tt/2ld0TW4
1 note · View note
thechampagnecircus · 3 years
Text
My Frenemy the Dentist
Tumblr media
The dentist. The dreaded place feared by adults and kids alike. I have always felt somewhat bad for dentists. They are up there with the IRS and DMV, people avoiding them like the plague. If it weren't for all the money they were able to charge, I’d truly lament for them. But after a Periodontitis diagnosis eight years ago the dental office has become a frequented place for me. If you are lucky enough to not know what that is, I will give you a quick download. Periodontitis is advanced gum disease.  We have all heard of Gingivitis from toothpaste and mouthwash ads. Used to invoke fear in us as kids to not miss a night’s brushing. This is basically that left untreated. It is unclear as to its main cause, but a mix of lifestyle choices, genetics, and abstaining from regular dental visits seem to be part of the recipe.  
At this point, when it comes to dental procedures, you name it, I have had it. Root canals are child’s play. I have had deep scaling treatments, bone grafts, crowns, laser therapy, all the things. I feel blessed to get the care that I need and I have come to peace with the fact this is something I will battle for the rest of my days. Periodontal Disease is incurable but maintainable. It is given me a soap box to preach to all my little nieces and nephews. Make sure to floss, or you’ll end up like Auntie Carly. Having said all that, I still get nervous going in for even routine appointments.  
About four or five years ago, due to my gum recession, my hygiene appointments started becoming painful. The normal anxiety and discomfort had evolved into a bigger beast than I could handle. They had to freeze all the areas in order to clean them properly. Therefore we broke it up into two appointments. My anxiety got so high and tense that it was hard for the freezing to take. Even Novocaine couldn't get through the stiffness my anxiety caused. The bottom left section of my mouth was the worst and lots of trial and error took place.  Enough was enough and I decided to look into sedation dentistry. I spoke to my hygienist and dentist and we all agreed I was a good candidate.  Like all things, I was scared to take medication and didn’t know what to expect. Nothing could be worse than my current situation so I gave in and never looked back.  
It is now 2021, a normal Sunday night and I review my calendar and to-do list for the week.  There it is, glaring at me. A dental appointment on Wednesday. Has it really been 4 months? As I think this to myself, a tingling of anxiety sets into my stomach, churning its contents like a washing machine mid cycle. Within a moment or two, along comes a deep breath of acceptance and I continue on with my night. Before I know it, it is Tuesday afternoon and I get the confirmation call from the office. There is no postponing it now. I have been there countless times and it’s only a cleaning. Relax. As I fall asleep that evening, I will myself into dreamy compliance.
My eyes open gently, the thickness of our blinds shrouds me in darkness although the sun has been up for hours. I flick my wrist over to see my watch which reads 8:30 am. I’ve slept through the night, without waking up to go pee; a small miracle. I’m over 30, it’s just the new normal. Having somehow had a great night sleep I feel rested and bright until I remember it’s a dental day. I sit up in bed, opening my eyes wider and giving them a little rub. Everyone else is already up and at em’, the kids at work, and the dog downstairs with my husband who’s working at his desk. 
I get up, open the blinds and absorb the light. The sun pours into the room like water gushing from a freshly broken dam. I walk into our master bathroom, its marble tiles cold on my feet. My hair is a tangled mess of crumpled curls, half of which managed to stay in a matted bun. I attempt to swallow my nervousness and begin my normal morning ritual. This consists of brushing my teeth, Listerine rinse, followed by washing my face and applying Ponds face cream. It’s the same lotion I have been using since I was a kid.  If they ever stop selling it, I’d be in for a rude awakening.
I look at the time and it’s now 9 am. Time to take my pre-dentist sedative. Something to settle the nerves. It sits under my tongue, dissolving into a calming serum that eases my mind. I get dressed; leggings, a tank top covered by a big comfy hoodie. It is leopard print with the BRUNETTE label splayed across my chest. Every girl needs a little flare, even if it is to get her teeth cleaned. I head downstairs, and my husband is all ready to go. I obviously can’t drive myself having taken an Ativan, so we hop in the vehicle and head out.
On the drive there, I slowly start to feel the drugs kicking in. My stomach flips a bit, while my insides melt into velvet.  I feel alert yet washed over with serenity. Before I know it, we are pulling into the parking lot, as though we teleported. Aaron starts griping about how busy this parking lot always is. There is an adjacent Lab Services building, along with a few other medical offices, so he is not wrong in his observation. Plus we are tad behind which adds to his agitation.  We finally find a parking spot and head upstairs. We are a few minutes late but are greeted with kind sentiments by the receptionist and hygienist. I have had so many things done here, I feel as though I am a regular and they all know my name. Like Cheers, but not nearly as fun. I tell Aaron I love him and will see him later as I follow her into my designated room.  
The dental chair is there, taunting me. It tries to promise comfort but I know what it holds. I set my purse on one of the countertops and take off my mask. I sit back in the chair, my leg shaking, the anxiety that is stifled somewhat by the meds coming to the surface. My hygienist and I exchange a few pleasantries, before she tilts the chair back into the final position. She then gives me a pair of the classic dentist sunglasses, watch out Vogue. My face is angled up toward the obligatory hanging television. It is always on HGTV. Perhaps there is something subconsciously soothing about quirky couples renovating people’s homes. I don’t really get it. But I have downloaded some media onto my phone and plan to listen with my new airpods. This ends up being a mistake as they keep falling out and I end up giving up on them entirely part way through the appointment. My mind starts to think about how many germs it picked up from the dental room floor.
It is now time for the freezing. My least favorite thing in the world. I breathe deeply in and out while carrying out a hand rubbing technique that doesn’t really work, but I do it anyway. After a couple applications of topical ointment, I brace myself as I see the huge needle descending into my mouth. She says “Ok, here we go”. I feel the pressure in the bottom of my cheek, the pain turns to tingles that resonate into one side of my tongue. Ok, one down. I know there are at least 4 more to go so I am not celebrating yet. The second one comes and goes. We then do right between my two upper front teeth. It feels as though the shot is going into my nose, the stinging pressure radiating into my sinus cavity. This is a new spot for the shot and it feels different than usual. Which of course sends my mind into a mild panic.  What if my face is frozen forever? What if there is nerve damage? Before I can completely spiral, there is another shot on the other side, then another.The chemical flavor breaks free from my insides and the syringe, hitting the back of my throat like a punch of metallic bitterness. I burst up, my gag reflex on edge. I use the suction that they allow me wield at my own free will, and gather myself. I lay back down, apologizing through mumbled words. My tongue is now totally numb and my lips feel fat and awkward. She says “It’s alright, just one more to go” ONE MORE? I think to myself but before it has time to sink in, it is over.  My face is now a detached mess, which in its uncomfortableness is a good thing since I know the cleaning is about to begin.
She first takes measurements of my pockets. The space that can grow between the gum and tooth. This gap can trap bacteria and plaque. With advanced gum disease this is the most important thing to monitor. It is normal to have a small space there but over a certain size is when you get into trouble. A few months ago I underwent a new laser treatment that was intense but hopeful to make a huge impact on said pockets. This was the moment of truth. As she reads out the numbers of each tooth, I hear none higher than four. There are a bunch of zeros and ones and I am thrilled. Once the readings are all done, we get down to business. Ultrasonic scaling, followed by manual scaling.  Both of which I can hear happening but can’t feel. The buzz of the water-pick on steroids and the grating of metal against my tooth. To round the visit out, I get treated to a polish and fluoride treatment. She tells me I am all done and that my husband is here to pick me up. It felt like every second lasted forever yet I time travelled.  
The fluoride gunk left on my teeth has a horrible aftertaste that no matter how much I try to spit into my little dixie cup I can’t remedy it. Two hours have passed in that chair and I am a grumpy Gus. My head is spinning as I adjust to being upright. I almost forget to put on my mask but she reminds me.  It’s probably a blessing since my mouth is floppy and unyielding in its numbness. I am drooling involuntarily like I just got lobotomized.  My husband is in the waiting room, masked up but I can see his loving eyes. I’m happy to see him.  
I sulk the whole ride home like a child who was forced to leave their friend’s house early. We get home and I migrate up to our room to sleep off the meds and anesthetic. I close the blinds, converting the room back into a den of darkness. I change into some pajamas and snuggle into bed. I’m still bitter, surprisingly restless and hungry. I turn on the television, putting on something mindless to usher me to sleep. A sense of delight starts to slowly seep in as I close my eyes. I will wake up in a couple hours with pearly white teeth, and a sore mouth, but it is over. For a few months I am free.
Copyright © 2021 Carly Eddy.
1 note · View note
b-i-g-s-i-s · 4 years
Text
Sweet Tooth
Going to the dentist makes me feel like a cadaver. I can feel the sharp metal tip scraping across my bone while I lie there helplessly and of my own volition. I’m asked questions my mouth is too full to answer. I can feel myself start to drown on my own spit. “30, 29, 28. 19, 20. 2, 3, 4, 5. 15, 14, 13, 12. On the buckle.” She rattles off numbers to the assistant, who scratches them down. 13 in total, 13 cavities.
She asks me if I eat a lot of sweets. “No,” I answer honestly “but I do drink a lot of coffee.” “Coffee with a lot of sugar?” “No, honestly.”
I feel like a lying child. I know why I have so many cavities. For two (three?) years in my early 20’s I was the most depressed I’ve ever been. I was drinking heavily, every night. Sleeping with lots of strangers, not eating or overeating. And most definitely not brushing my teeth. I don’t wear make up anymore, but then I wore a lot. Not because make up was covering my insecurities, but because I didn’t feel miserable when I was doing my eyebrows for 45 minutes straight. When I look back on old photos I wonder who that is with my face and brightly colored lips, and does she know her teeth are going to rot out of her head? Does she know the Lexapro she’s on is saving her life while also drying out her mouth? Allowing acid from the coffee she drinks every morning as she works away her early 20’s to slowly but surely erode the enamel on her teeth. “You can tell it’s from liquid from the way the decay is forming between the teeth,” she says to me. Every screwdriver I ordered to helped me ignore the rot in myself manifested in my gums.
Once, before this, I had to sit at the dentist at get several other cavities filled. A number of cavities so high that I was embarrassed to tell close friends. The doctor asked me then, “do you have a boyfriend?” “No.” “Oh, that’s alright. My daughter doesn’t either. Doesn’t mean you won’t find one.” I had spent almost every moment of the past three days before that appointment with Jaclyn. I hadn’t seen her since elementary school, she had moved to New York for college and I was back in town from Chicago. I found out she was gay from facebook and I was very excited to see her again. She instantly had a wild, also confrontational energy to her. When she asked me if I was gay, I said “I’m queer.” “What does that mean?” She said it in a louder tone than I expected and all of a sudden I was embarrassed. “I identify as pan.” “Sorry I didn’t mean to question you like that,” she said. We were all riding to a midnight showing of Princess Mononoke. The windows were down as we shared cigarettes. I watched her waist length dark hair whip around in the wind. That night and every night for the next three days we fucked and kissed and I played with her long, thick, jet black hair obsessively. I told her since I’ve moved to Chicago that I wasn’t really seeing men, even though I was still in an open relationship with my boyfriend of several years. The boyfriend I was completely ignoring. I told her I cry after sex with men now. That I don’t ever think I’ve had a man understand me the way a woman can. That when a woman looks at me I feel seen. “You’re a lesbian. You’re a fucking dyke,” she told me on a blow up mattress on the floor of an empty room in my best friends apartment. I’m anything you tell me I am, I said to myself. Later, on my volition, I decide I am a lesbian.
The next morning after this realization I go to the dentist. He’s gloves deep in my mouth drilling away at the decay as I push brown pieces of tooth out of my mouth with my tongue. The dental assistant gets it with her hands and wipes it on the napkin clipped around my neck. I feel like a body. Possibly a project of some sort. But I don’t feel like a person. “I can see the pink pulp of your tooth,” he says judgingly. I can’t say anything to defend myself but if I could I’d say “yeah.”
I stare into the light hovering above my head as tiny droplets of water bounce off my teeth and onto my face. I stare and I try to figure out why it took me so long to figure out that I’m gay. The answer is sadder than it needed to be. I didn’t know myself. Since as long as I could remember I was taking care of my mother, my father, my siblings, and that’s all I had room for. When I moved out at 18 I had an identity crisis. It was just me. How do I take care of just me?
One of the first things I did was go to a doctor who diagnosed me with PMDD, anxiety, and depression. This was one of my first big discoveries of myself. This made so much make sense. My whole life I thought I was just angsty. One psychiatrist asked me, “so you were depressed all your life and you didn’t do anything about it?” “I didn’t know what it was,” was my only answer. She prescribed me Lexapro.
My mom picked me up from my hours long dentist appointment. I, a 24 year old woman, sat with my mom in the parking lot of a Vietnamese restaurant and I told her I was gay. “I like gay people!” is what she said. “Thank you,” I said through tears. She went in and got a cold thai tea for my sore mouth.
0 notes