#Carlisle dentist

[infinite6smiles5dental]

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[zu-is-here]

Twins from the other world (*σᴗσ)(ㅎᴗㅎ )

Dentist!Dream idea >:)

Barber!Nightmare by @help-im-a-gay-fish

[12/21] Dream & Nightmare by jokublog

[castielsprostate]

WAIT WAIT WAIT.!!!! so edward bakes cakes and treats for garth right??? do you think garth makes edward like, blood pudding or something?????????????????? like in a heartshape????????/

OH MY GOD YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!!!!! do. do you think it's.. it's his own blood? like he just. hes a dentist, he has tools. i can probably draw blood, right? what if he made it with his own blood 🥺🥺🥺

my immediate thought is the concept of the taylor swift blank space cake!!!!! but he fills it with his own blood pudding🥺🥺🥺

And the thing is, Garth loved to bake and cook. He was very specific and particular in the ingredients he used, he had often spent hours researching what the best sorts of flour were for different types of bread, cakes and cookies or what different types of sugar do. When his college girlfriend, Bess, had gone through his laptop's internet search history she was fully prepared to find porn- not cooking websites.

Each site was a different recipe, ranging from simple toast dishes to salmon wellingtons and blueberry lemon key pies, mentioning spices she'd never even heard of and cooking utensils she'd never even seen. Bess had known Garth could cook, experienced it herself even, but this, this was beyond her imagination- especially considering the 74 tabs of recipes open in his browser.

(read more because this got. LONG)

So yes, Garth loved to cook- and bake. It was his main love language, even, one which he practiced with such care and consideration he'd often tune recipes to those he was cooking for. Like Bess' favourite pasta dish, a light lemon chicken with a hefty white alfredo sauce and spinach, he'd make for her birthday or Dean's favourite pie, crumbly and juicy apple with a hint of honey and vanilla, he'd always give as a thank you.

But those were all humans, well, mostly humans. Even after Bess had turned, she could never turn down her favourite pasta prepared exactly to her tastes. So rather, he had never made anything for anyone non-human that he hadn't known before- though Benny had eaten a piece of the cherry blossom pie that one time- he'd also been quick to expel it again.

But in walked Edward. All shrouded in mystery and . So Garth needed a peculiar dish for a very, very peculiar man. A superfluous challenge but man, did Garth love a challenge.

He plucked a few books he thought could prove useful from the modest shelf in his living room. Most of them were copies of Bobby's, hand bound on weekends he could squeeze it in during his dental program. Two of the books he grabbed had come from Carlisle Cullen, one of Garth's attendants during his residency rotations.

He waddled his way back into the kitchen, dropping the books onto the small island counters. Garth had some basic knowledge on vampires, for one that they could eat human food, but they'd have to expel it, mostly willingly as Benny had said. Other than that, he had come up empty.

He started to flip pages, indexing to the 'vampire' chapters. Much was the same, basic anatomical facts, how to kill a vamp, the weaknesses and strengths, but nothing useful. Sure, there were paragraphs filled with how a vampire feeds and drains- not nothing about how a vampire eats.

What started as a simple research sesh, had quickly turned into hours of dead ends and loose threads. Garth groaned, a headache blooming at his edges. He needed help. He needed someone with a greater arsenal of lore anyone's ever known and knew exactly where to find it in and instant. Someone that would leave no stone unturned and no leaf thoroughly examined- and he knew exactly who to call.

With a sigh hanging at the tip of his tongue he pressed the number saved under '🩸📚🤪🔪🫎', impatiently waiting as the ringing filled his kitchen, tapping his fingers on the wooden table.

It took three full rings before,

"Hey, Garth- why are you calling at... eleven AM?" the man that answered on the other side sounded a little far away, both physically and mentally, the sound of something Garth couldn't immediately make out was ringing in the background.

"Hiya Sam!" Garth chirped, despite his earlier annoyance it felt good to hear Sam's voice again, it'd been too long, really, "I was researching, er, something but I couldn't find anything conclusive,"

"Uhm, give me a moment-" Garth couldn't really make out the rest from what Sam was saying, the only bits being 'I told you to not-' also 'no, Dean-" and "he set the kitchen- fire-". Most of it was unintelligible, but he could fill in the blanks easily enough.

Garth skimmed some more of the pages he'd pulled out as the grumbling on the other side continued

"Okay, what do you need exactly?" the background noise had mostly faded, replaced by the occasional soft footstep of what Garth assumed to be Sam's.

"I'm-" Garth paused. He hadn't actually thought this far ahead, he hadn't even really thought this through at all when the realisation of what he was doing hit.

He was calling Sam Winchester, a fellow hunter not known for his kindness towards monsters and a disturbingly impressive kill count, on what a vampire would be able to eat.

Love made blind, or something like that.

"Garth?" Sam's voice boomed, "are you still there?"

Another beat of silence before a meek "yes," sounded with an added, "I'm just- figuring out how to word this without it sounding, hm, weird?"

"Hit me, I've heard worse,"

"Alright," Garth sighed, quickly tacking on, "what do you know about vampires and eating human food?"

Garth had predicted a silence, a long, achingly pressing beat of silence to befall upon them as Sam Winchester would study his words and grind them to a pulp in his head trying to make any sort of sense out of it.

He hadn't predicted the immediate hostility of, "Garth-" there was fight laced in Sam's tone, a cold lilt edging along.

"Sam, I- please? He's- he's a good one, and you know I can handle myself," Garth was rambling, his arms flailing, "and truthfully, I was skeptical at first as well but-" Garth hesitated, his heart pounding in his throat as the other side was deathly silent, "it's just a thank you, Sam,"

It was silent for a second too long, Garth felt his neck heating, his cheeks burning before a loud and loaded sigh rung through the air.

"Right, so," Sam grumbled, the slices of pages turning filling the dead air, "it says here- hold on-" a rattle and a fuss later, the man sighed, "right, vampires can usually hold their food, it gets rejected later, blah blah, hm- alright, it says here that 'if it's interlaced with blood the vamp will be able to hold it down and process it like regular blood'- there's nothing else except a few doodles of vampires eating,"

Garth nodded absentmindedly, knowing full well Sam wasn't able to see him, as he mulled over the words.

"So, I just- add blood? How much of it?"

Sam huffed a laugh, "This isn't a cookbook, man, I don't have measurements for you,"

"Okie dokie," Garth rubbed his temples between his thumb and index fingers, "well, thank you, Sam, I think I can actually get somewhere now,"

"Call us if- you know, just call us, yeah?"

"I will, tomorrow," Garth quickly added, "don't breathe a word of this to Dean,"

Sam was slow to agree, but did so in the end, something Garth was incredibly grateful for. He didn't need Dean to pester him about this or worse- show up and 'handle it' himself.

They gave their farewells, with a promise on Garth's end to call to say he was either alive or a cry for help, and a promise for Sam to keep quiet to his brother.

Garth allowed himself a moment of silence, staring at the books and papers in front of him before scooting his chair back and scavenging his home for whatever he had. He had needles around somewhere to practice injecting anesthetic to his dental patients, and he should have some sort of a tube to connect to it.

He grabbed some other things during his hunt, some bandages and a few vials, alcohol. The basics. His heart thumped in his throat as he put everything down on the counter, ranked from first to last needed.

He was doing this. Actually, really doing this. Garth gingerly grabbed the needle, denying himself the second thoughts niggling at the back of his mind, hissing as he slid it under his skin and into his brachial artery.

He drew three vials, filled to the brim with his blood.

He took a deep breath, setting them down next to the flour and sugar, and went to work. Carefully writing each step of the 'recipe' he winged down, next to every precisely weighed ingredient and where to acquire it.

His night went on with adrenaline buzzing in his veins.

Garth let out a grunt, wiping his forehead with a satisfied smirk lining the quirks of his mouth. The kitchen was surprisingly spotless- cleaning up along the way really was one of his most prized skills.

The sweet he baked sat proudly on the counter as he snapped a quick picture to send in the groupchat, and one for his baking Instagram, and one to print out for his booklet of personalised recipes he'd collected over the years.

With a sigh he began to clean the last out of place pans, carefully placing the cake in the refrigerator and wiping down the counters one last time before retreating upstairs.

It was morning, Garth thought it was at least, meaning he powered through the night without a second thought, and Edward wouldn't be over for another solid few hours.

So he took a nap, a well deserved and very much needed nap.

"I made you something," Garth fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, "I researched a bit, even called someone with more knowledge about it,"

Edward eyed the man in front of him, how his jumper had a spot of white dust clinging to it, how his hair was slightly disheveled and unruly and how the rims around his fingernails were puffy and pink. He looked homely, utterly exhausted, but oh so sweet- like a drop of fresh honeydew, intoxicatingly addictive.

"It's," Garth gestured towards the small kitchen table, just below the south baywindow. He'd gotten some fresh flowers from his garden after his nap, lavenders- Edward's favourite- and even replaced the runner with a lilac floral trim white one, matching the colours of the vase, "not much, really, but I wanted to, well,"

A simple white cake sat atop a cutting board, heart shaped with perfectly imperfect piping lining the top and bottom edges. A black hilted knife laid next to it, glinting under the LED light kitchen light.

Garth pulled the hem of his jumper, the details that felt out of place sticking out like a sore thumb.

But Edward didn't seem to care about the creased table cloth, or the skewed chairs- his gaze was steadfast on the man in front of him, making Garth squirm.

"Go ahead,"

Edward took it as permission, almost, and grabbed the knife, raising it slowly, then down all at once, Garth's reflection getting caught as the knife plunged deep into the cake. You couldn't see it immediately, but you'd know- the scent of iron penetrating your very being as the thick, dark liquid oozed out little by little.

Garth really regretted putting down a white runner now.

"Is it- I didn't know where to get blood on short notice," Garth bit back his embarrassment, barely, as he replayed the events of the night before. Researching, calling Sam of all people, drawing his own blood like a sacrament. Was he losing it, he wondered, ghosting his fingers over his arm.

Edward's expression was unreadable, his eyes trailing the drips of blood. Garth bobbed on the balls of his feet, his fingernails softly digging into jis flesh as he carefully watched the vampire's every little twitch and stir. The crease on Edward's forehead smoothed over ever so slightly, barely a hint of it happening if it wasn't for the few millimetres his eyebrow dropped.

"Thank you," Edward said, the quirk of his mouth ticking up, "you don't comprehend what you just gave me,"

And that's when Garth Fitzgerald IV, a shoddy half edged werewolf, knew that he would give anything for and to Edward Cullen, a bloodthirsty, ice cold vampire. His home, his blood- his own heart freshly carved out of his brittle chest by his own hands and serve it on a platter.

[sroyremedo]

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[hiltondiminickortho]

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Doctors Hilton and Diminick received their dental and graduate degrees in Orthodontics from Temple University. They are members of the American Association of Orthodontists, the American Dental Association, and all local and state dental and specialty societies. Both doctors are diplomats of the American Board of Orthodontics.

The doctors continue to improve their expertise by taking an average of 30 continuing education units yearly.

The doctors encourage their staff to attend continuing education courses sponsored by various dental associations.

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[dentalaccountants]

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[twilightsdumbbutiwannaknowmore]

Twilight Question #14

Do vampires need to brush their teeth? their teeth would’t decay due to dirt or sugar or any sort of food since they stay perfect forever, so would they even need to brush them? or would they need to maybe only brush the fangs to make sure they are clean of venom and dirt and excess blood.I’d like to also think that they have to file their fangs to make sure they stay sharp and don’t go blunt due to use. 

[reclaimingtwilight]

#carlisle cullen

One of the most bizarrely cool people I’ve ever met was an oral surgeon who treated me after a ridiculous accident (that’s another story), Dr. Z.

Dr. Z. was, easily, the best and most competent doctor or dentist I’ve ever encountered – and after that accident, I encountered quite a number. He came stunningly highly recommended, had an excellent record, and the most calming bedside manner I’ve ever seen.

That last wasn’t the sweet gentle caretaking sort of manner, which some nurses have but you wouldn’t expect to see in a surgeon. No; when Dr. Z. told me that one of my broken molars was too badly damaged to save, and I (being seventeen and still moderately in shock) broke down crying, he stared at me incredulously and said, in a tone of utter bemusement, “But – I am very good.”

I stopped crying on the spot. In the last twenty-four hours or so of one doctor after another, no one had said anything that reassuring to me. He clearly just knew his own competence so well that the idea of someone being scared anyway was literally incomprehensible to him. What more could I possibly ask for?

(He was right. The procedure was very extended, because the tooth that needed to be removed was in bits, but there was zero pain at any point. And, as he promised, my teeth were so close together that they shifted to fill the gap to where there genuinely is none anymore, it’s just a little easier to floss on that side.)

But Dr. Z.’s insane competence wasn’t just limited to oral surgery.

When I met Dr. Z., he, like most doctors I’ve had, asked me if I was in college, and where, and what I was studying. When I say “math,” most doctors respond with “oh, wow, good for you” or possibly “what do you want to do with that after college?”

Dr. Z. wanted to know what kind of math.

I gave him the thirty-second layman’s summary that I give people who are foolish enough to ask that. He responded with “oh, you mean–” and the correct technical terms. I confirmed that was indeed what I meant (and keep in mind, this was upper-division college math, you don’t take this unless you’re a math major). He asked cogent follow-up questions, and there ensued ten or so minutes of what I’d call “small talk” except for how it was an intensely technical mathematical discussion.

He didn’t, as far as I can tell, have any kind of formal math background. He just … knew stuff.

I was a competitive fencer at this point in time, so when he asked if I had any questions about the surgery that would be necessary, I asked him if I’d be okay to fence while I had my jaw wired shut, or if it would interfere with breathing.

“Fencing?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “like swordfighting,” because this is another conversation I got to have a lot. (People assume they’ve misheard you, or occasionally they think you mean building fences.)

“Which weapon?”

“Uh. Foil.”

“No, it won’t be safe,” and he went off into an explanation of why.

Turns out, he was also a serious fencer – and, when I mentioned my fencing coach, an old friend of his. (I asked my fencing coach later, and, oh yes, Dr. Z., a good friend of mine, excellent fencer.) (My coach was French. Dr. Z. was Israeli. I never saw Dr. Z. around the club or anything. I have no idea how they knew each other.)

So this was weird enough that later, when I was home, I looked Dr. Z. up on Yelp. His reviews were stellar, of course, but that wasn’t the weird thing.

The weird thing was that the reviews were full of people – professionals in lots of different fields – saying the same thing: I went to Dr. Z. for oral surgery, and he asked me about what I did, and it turned out he knew all about my field and had a competent and educated discussion with me about the obscure technical details of such-and-such.

All sorts of different fields, saying this. Lawyers. Businessmen. Musicians.

As far as I can tell, it’s not that I just happened to be pursuing the two fields he had a serious amateur interest in – he just seemed to be extremely good at literally everything.

I have no explanation for this. Possibly he sold his soul to the devil.

He did a damn good job on my surgery.

[themonotonysyndrome]

Do you mind doing some Fredrick headcannos? I miss the little softie

Hello, Mina! Ooooh... Freddie! I miss the guy. A timid dude but his confrontation with Bright Eyes in his last video showed that there's more to him. So thank you so much for this ask. Now let's shift the spotlight to Frederick!

Also, just a heads up, I'll be including some of the headcanons that I've previously written for him and Bright Eyes here too.

General Frederick Headcanons:

Enjoys wearing bright, casual clothes; especially sweaters and hoodies.

(Bright Eyes would sometimes steal one of his clothes and wear it to bed because it's big and comfy.)

His favourite colour is sapphire blue.

Loves watching comedy shows and movies.

(His goal is to attend a live comedy show one day.)

His favourite season is Summer, unfortunately.

He and Bright Eyes loves to paint each other nails. Freddie likes intricate designs and patterns on his nails while Bright Eyes tend to stick to simple, dark colours.

He loves gardening! Back when he was still human and studying in college, he had a small hydroponic garden in the corner of his dorm room.

After Turning into a Vampire, Sam offers his backyard to Freddie in hopes to heal him. After a few months and careful landscaping, Sam now has a fairytale-like garden.

(Freddie's garden became one of Will's favourite places to discuss business with Sam.)

That being said, Freddie knows everyone favourite flowers in the Clan.

He views Sam as a teacher and guardian, is overly polite around Will, adorably awkward to Vincent and thinks that Darling is the coolest person ever in the world.

When Freddie believes that he's in the right about something, he becomes more stubborn than Bright Eyes.

This is a bad thing because it's easy for him to lose his temper in this state.

The first time he had to tearfully Invoke Bright Eyes is when they tried to snort sugar through a Monopoly dollar bill. He still hasn't recovered from it.

Freddie is academically inclined more than Bright Eyes who'd rather work instead of attending D.A.M.N.

After becoming a Vampire he was secretly dejected that he can't transform into a bat.

He cried on Bright Eyes' shoulder at the end of Toy's Story 3. Bright Eyes took it like a champ and just silently patted him on the back.

He likes to listen to pop songs and indie rock bands. Yes, he's a Swifty.

His spirit animal is a Border Collie. His 'sheep herding' tendencies come out a lot whenever Bright Eyes is doing something stupid.

He stress-bake a lot and often distributes his goods to the rest of the Clan members.

At one time, Vincent and Lovely had to eat a week's worth of fruit cobblers that Lovely begins to worry about their next dentist's appointment.

Has a good ear when it comes to distinguishing familiar voices and faint sounds. He likes listening to Daemons Rifting because it sounds 'magical'.

He's more of a tea drinker than coffee. His favourite blend of tea is the classic Earl Grey and chrysanthemum.

His preferred platforms of social media are TikTok and Youtube.

Whenever he can't sleep, he'd crawl into Bright Eyes' bed. Having them close helps him calm down.

Whenever he misses his human family, he would reach out to Sam and the two would have quiet yet meaningful conversations about their past and what they're hoping for in the future.

He struggles to drink blood because he feels it's unhygienic and the fear of bloodborne diseases makes his stomach queasy.

Freddie is planning to become a full-time Healer to help lessen Sam's duty and also, he was planning to be a doctor anyway.

Bright Eyes teases him for wanting to become the next Carlisle Cullen, to which he would pout adorably.

[onlyonekenobi]

“One ‘A’ in ‘Champion,’“ a lil found family ficlet for @garthed on her birthday!!!

The auditorium buzzed with noise as they shuffled awkwardly towards their seats. 

"Thanks again for coming, buddy," Dean clapped Garth on the back. "I know you're real busy with your practice these days, but you shoulda seen the way Jack's face lit up when we told him you were comin'." 

"Aww, it's no trouble, now!" Garth beamed. "Anything for my little man. And," he added, shaking a paper bag towards Cas, "anything for some good old fashioned concession stand popcorn."

"Do you recommend that?" Cas squinted. "As a dentist?" 

Garth leveled a wink back at him, expertly tossing a piece up and catching it in his mouth. " 'Do as I say,' huh, Cas?" 

Dean still couldn't quite believe Garth was a real person, even after all these years; his spunk to size ratio was simply unparalleled. 

"So gentlemen," Garth asked now, turning towards them again, "what's your favorite word on the list? I know y'all two must know the whole thing backwards and forwards by now." 

"Halogen," Cas answered at once, and then they both turned to look expectantly at Dean. It was like being caught between a laser beam and the sun, he thought. A rock and an earnest place, perhaps. 

"Uh," he mused, "solid two-way tie between ‘wickiup’ and ‘boondoggle.’" 

"Classic," Garth chuckled through his popcorn. "Any least favorites?" 

"Acrimonious," Dean immediately lurched out at the same time Cas deadpanned "jack-in-the-pulpit." 

"That's one word?" 

"Right?" Dean supplied. "Buncha damn hyphens. Seems like a cheat, if you ask me." Cas nodded. "Dean's right though, Jack hates 'acrimonious.' He always does an ‘a’ instead of the ‘i.’" 

"I had the same trouble with ‘pandemonium,’" Garth frowned. Then, almost immediately, it flipped into a smile that could have powered the building. "Darned a's." 

"You did spelling bees?" Cas asked. 

Garth's face lit up once again as he nearly guffawed himself out of his seat. "Well of course I did, you silly billy! I could hardly join the football team! Somebody with my skills on there, winning all the games for ‘em? They'da forgot how to stay humble." 

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes and reaching for the burningly over-salted popcorn. "Gimme some of that." 

"They all break eventually," Garth nodded knowingly.

“Dean, Garth,” Cas said suddenly, nodding towards the stage where Jack’s toothless, six-year old grin was beaming down at them, and his frantically waving hand was threatening to eject itself from his arm. (“I won’t be able to say hi anymore after we’re all sat down,” he had soberly informed his fathers last night. “Miss Carlisle said so, no talking on stage except of if it’s your turn.”)

“Heya, buddy!” Garth called up. In response, Jack’s hand- as if by miracle- seemed to double in waves-per-second. Before his eyes could burst out of his head, though, the famed Miss Carlisle took to the podium, cueing the house lights down.

The bee then passed as all bees do for the adults in attendance: slowly, at first, and then with nerve-wracking, humbling intensity. In the end, Jack came in fourth on “convalescence.” (“Darned a’s,” Dean echoed under his breath.)

When the lights came up and the Lebanon Elementary first graders shuffled off the stage, Jack’s smile was shy and cast towards the floor.

“Hey, buddy!” Dean scooped him up. “That was awesome!” Jack peered up through his lashes.

“I didn’t even finish.”

“Of course you did,” Cas soothed, ruffling his hair. “You took all of your turns, and that’s very brave. You had some hard words, too. I know Uncle Garth was very impressed.”

Jack’s eyes lit up again as he twisted around in Dean’s arms. “Really?”

“Jack,” he whispered, “did you know your Uncle Garth did spelling bees, too?” Jack’s eyes widened for a second time. “Yeah,” Dean added, “so he really knows what he’s talking about if he says you did good.” Jack wriggled around yet again; luckily, Dean was pretty used to this by now.

“Big time,” Garth stage whispered. “‘Will-o-the-wisp’? No way I’da known to put all those dashes in there. You musta studied like nobody’s beeswax for that one, huh?” he added with a wink and a poke to Jack’s tummy. Jack giggled into Dean’s shoulder as Cas ruffled his hair again.

“Mhmm,” Garth hummed, eyebrows raised sagely. “Did you win?” Jack asked quietly, with an intensity he could only have learned from his papa.

“Nope!” Garth beamed. “Came in seventh. ‘Pandemonium.’”

“Oh,” Jack breathed, and Dean could feel him untense in his arms. “Did you use too many a’s? I always use too many a’s.”

Garth nodded again. “It’s the downfall of champions.”

Jack nodded along, brow furrowing in thought. “One ‘a’ in ‘champion,’” he said to Garth. “And a ‘i.’” And a ‘o.’”

“Oh, winner!” Garth hollered, scooping Jack away from Dean and raising one of his little arms in triumph.

Jack giggled again as Dean and Cas cheered behind him, waving his participation certificate and ribbon in the air.

“You know what else has one ‘a,’ buddy?” Garth asked.

“What?” Jack smiled expectantly.

“Jack!” Garth cheered, earning another round of bubbly laughter. It stopped short, though, when Jack suddenly called, “‘Garth!’ ‘Uncle Garth’ has one ‘a’!”

“Yeah, it does! ‘Cause we’re champions, amigo!”

“And, and!” Jack nearly shouted, “and ‘Daddy’! And- oh,” his brow furrowed again. “Uh, well, ‘papa’ has two a’s.” But before anyone could even get a word in edgewise, Jack solved this conundrum for himself by shouting, “But ‘Castiel!’ ‘Castiel’ has one ‘a’!”

“You’re sure right it does!” Garth chuckled, heading them towards the door. “And so’s ‘Dean’!”

(“And ‘Uncle Sam!’ And ‘Claire!’” Jack squealed in amazement.)

And as they headed out together towards the car, they all took turns naming all the single ‘a’ words they could think of.

Happy.

Beautiful.

Lovable.

Family.

[volturialice]

i am branching off of the quarantine ask game w an original question here but i wanna know... who would u choose to quarantine w out of the cullens? actually who would be the best to worst cullen quarantine partner

oooooh boy oh boy ok!! excellent question

ranking the cullens as quarantine buddies: best to worst

esme - teaches you how to paint gentle & beautiful watercolors, takes you on nature walks, makes you spaghetti. life could be a dream.mp3

jasper - who’s stir-crazy? not you. your life is a soft fog of good vibes and occasional ken burns documentaries

bella - is she even there?? she might be a figment of your imagination but all you know is books keep disappearing off the shelves and someone keeps doing your laundry

rosalie - tries to drown her sorrows in intellectual pursuits and car mods, has taken apart and rebuilt everything in the house, your microwave can now teach you mandarin and schedule dentist appointments

emmett - sure, it’s fun at first, doing tiktok dances and jack-ass-ing off the roof into a swimming pool full of orbeez. but you can only listen to the sound of giant oaf feet dancing to doja cat’s “say so” for so long before you snap

alice - slowly losing her mind, you had to confiscate her laptop after she bought herself an entire abandoned mall, has been catatonic since the finale of amazon’s making the cut, you might have to take her back to the asylum after this, let’s hope their return policy works for 30 days 100 years

edward - privacy? you don’t know her, constantly spouting depressing statistics, judges you for eating junk food because it “isn’t good for your immune system,” won’t stop composing 40-minute nocturnes and asking if you like them, will cry if you don’t

carlisle - trick question, there’s no such thing as being quarantined with carlisle. he’s an essential healthcare worker who is literally immune to every disease and hasn’t been home since february except for the five-minute visits to pour deer blood into an enormous thermos

[opinionatedtwihard]

And now, what Twilight characters would get at yogurt mountain if they were human teenagers in this century:

Bella according to smeyer- Vanilla but with sprinkles because she's not like other girls, she'll never be too cool for sprinkles, but despite being unique, she's also dreadfully boring

Bella according to me- Something blue topped w gummy sharks bc she's rad and neat and cool

Rosalie- She would definitely use those silly cardboard dividers. She would have strawberry yogurt, with brownie bites, another compartment with strawberrie and sprinkles, another double strawberry. She's a huge fan of the color pink.

Emmet- dude would 100% bring his own protein powder and add it to his cup. He's not too bright so he would definitely add it before weighing and paying.

Edward- Dark chocolate with cool whip. Dude is moody or something, idk.

Jasper- Just samples them all and doesn't buy any like a girlboss

Alice- Something... fruity

Carlisle- He seems like the dentist kiss ass that would refuse to eat refined sugar tbh

Jacob- 5 kinds of yogurt and 18 toppings plus a mountain of whipped cream and a cherry on top. basically just 12 dollars in brown goop.

Erik- chocolate yogurt with gummy worms

Jessica- sugar free yogurt and sprinkles because the world is cruel and she will feel judged if she doesn't

Mike- As many toppings as possible, but only the light ones. He gets way way way too mad at Edward for sneaking "heavy" m&ms into his yogurt.

Angela- probably mint chocolate chip or something. bro I can't explain it

Charlie- vanilla, berries. every time.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Vladimir explains to his human mate about how he’s a vampire and etc.

His human mate not taking anything seriously: bite the vampire first to assert dominance

Chomps on vladimirs hand

Goes to Carlisle who then takes her to the dentist

Her teeth broke

All of em…

OMG 😂😂

ITS SO GOOD- I CANT 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[heketiwrites]

Once upon a prickling, bone-bleaching summer, Jethro Carlisle Fellows was nearly run out of town for being just about the worst goddamn dentist the county had ever been cursed to know. Before that he'd been fired twice from the general store, thrown out of the watering hole for drinking the still and passed from hand to hand until his addled head spun. The only person who ever gave him the time of day was his own poor wife, Zelda, who'd been cheated by some fickle feint to get paired up with a man like him. Eventually, out of grace or just because they were tired, someone threw him a shovel and put him to work digging holes. Digging graves. And that was that in the summer of 1902.

Four generations later and the Fellows are still the funeral folk of Magnolia with each head of the household making it more respectable than the last. The current director, Henry Fellows, is a magnanimous and respected man, father of three (mostly) untroubled children and a boon to the community. If only Jethro could see those pretty pews, silvery candelabras and tasteful velvets. Then again, maybe he does - what with the Old Fellows Funeral Services in such proximity of the cemetery. Maybe that's him whistling now.

Henry Fellows. Sean Bean (60), Mrs. Fellows. Helena Bonham Carter (55), Sister Fellows. Mia Wasikowska (30), Brother Fellows. Lucas Bravo (32)

[shittytwilightaus]

Apparently I still have an orthodontist appointment I’m going to even though we’re in the middle of a pandemic but aforementioned appointment has rattled the old braincells and. where did the Cullens go for the dentist? Did they just?? not?? is Carlisle also a dentist?? Did they have a dentist who knew so they could say “mind picking the fucking mountain lion fur out of your teeth first, bitch?” like?? I must know!!

okay. okay just,,,,,i literally cannot imagine any vampire needing or wanting to keep up human appearances so much they’d make dentist appointments. i do not think vampires think they need dental and if they suddenly discover that “hey actually your super strong vampire teeth can actually get knocked out of your super strong vampire head surprise surprise” not a single vampire on the planet or in history would be prepared. “sucks to be you bitch,” they’d all say “time to see if you can use a straw.”

(sorry about your appointment hon, dental work is important tho! I hope it goes well! 💚)

[emmettmccartycullen]

It's me again, the guy who thinks Carlisle is a dentist. We started a new activity with my GF: reading twilight (first time for me, millionth for her) while making silly accents and voices. To you, which stupid accent or impression would best fit the characters? (Emmett will have a stupid Rambo voice)

You and your gf are precious! Also, I’ve been thinking and I’m stumped - does anyone have any good ideas for this?