A Smile Worth A Thousand Words
It was a normal summer day in Ponyville. Yeah, that kind of normal summer day. The one where everything is perfect, Fluttershy is a tree, and there is nothing amiss in the world.
Of course, Minuette is no exception to this particular perfection. She strutted through the sidestreet as happy as ever — but she didn’t smile too wide.
No, dear Reader, nor could she if she tried. You see, with Minuette being the dentist extraordinaire among Ponyville-ians, she was a true expert on all things teeth, tooth, and everything in between. She studied in Canterlot, no less. With this great knowledge comes power, and a smiling dentist is like a flexing athlete. To her, it would almost be an insult to those without her allure.
“Miiinnueettteeee!”
Ah, that was Smolder. Minuette’s newfound friend.
Two weeks prior, Minuette gave a small talk at the Friendship Magic School about good dental health, for the younger students. Older students got to learn basic mouth anatomy… and Twilight got a full orthodontist crash course. Not that Minuette was too insistent, no no. Twilight herself demanded it. Locked the doors, even. That mare could be scary when she wanted to.
Minuette suppressed a shudder at that thought as Smolder approached. Instead, she threw out a greeting.
“Hey Smolder! How’s the prey running?”
A light bop on the shoulder, followed by a groan. “C’mon Minuette, you know dragons aren’t that bad.”
After their initial lesson, Smolder in particular had been particularly interested in her own teeth. Dragon teeth had special properties to them: long, curved fangs that formed in some, while others had shallow, flat ones. Thick, rooted molars adorned many, while few had naught but canines. Their lesson extended later and later, until Minuette swore she saw a Twilight-shaped cane whizz by. Her and Smolder settled on weekly chats of dentistry to help pass the time. And avoid Twilight’s ire.
“Well Smolder, you know as well as I do that ponies are absolutely terrified of carnivores. Dragons especially! Have you seen how nobody looks Spike in the eye?”
Smolder rolled her eyes. “Well yeah, cause Spike is just kinda, y’know, uncool.” She shrugged. “Have you noticed how he also hasn’t aged one bit since coming here? You’ve been in Ponyville a while, right?”
Minuette nodded. “I have but... hmm. That is rather strange.” As they walked, she swerved around a barrel left outside one of the shops. “Maybe because of the magic he was born with?”
“Maybe?” Smolder rubbed her arm. “All dragons are kinda magical. In some way. Sorta. But that doesn’t mean that Spike can’t age. Imagine if I couldn’t age!”
“Well, if you couldn’t age—” she ducked under a low-hanging flower pot “—then you’d serve as a good model for my practice!”
“What do you mean?”
Minuette nodded towards the house they approached. “When we get in, I can explain more!”
Smolder shrugged. “Sure.”
~~~
Once inside, Smolder balked at the sheer number of stuff.
The left wall was covered, floor-to-ceiling, in medical instruments. Brass containers, silver platters and wiry frames took up a good number of shelves, while other display pieces rested in a glass case nearby. The right wall was mostly empty, save for a window into the forest. In front of her was a light brown door, leading further into this strange home.
Minuette strutted past these and up to the door. “Right in here!” She pushed it open with her shoulder, and Smolder followed, albeit wearily.
The next room was more normal, with a sofa, a dining table, some chairs, and a kitchenette. Smolder took a seat in one of the closer chairs, and Minuette sat opposite to her.
“Actually, wait, let me grab some things.”
Minuette rushed off to, allegedly, grab some things. Smolder knew from her previous chats that Minuette was a fan of small demonstration models and old textbooks, but she usually had those prepared. A quick glance around the room revealed a room that just seemed a little off.
Straight cushions, perfectly aligned picture frame, no random items on the shelf…
Smolder jerked up in realization.
Dear Celestia! Is Minuette a minimalist?!
The mare herself returned but a moment later, with pots, pans, tables and t— ah who am I kidding, she brought—
“A box?” Smolder looked to Minuette as she brought it around the table. “What’s in the box?”
Minuette grinned.
You see, dear Reader, Minuette grinning is not just a simple expression of bemusement. Nor is it a refrain from a snarky remark. As her lips upturn, she all but graces the eyes of those in front of her with a small glimpse of her front teeth. Smolder, given her particularly good sight, followed that small gap in the light blue lips, and her eyes widened at the sparkle that lay within.
By another blink, or two, or three, Smolder realized that Minuette had sat down in front of her, looking at her with a questioning expression — still caught, still curious. But a smaller grin from before. One without a white treasure at its center, beckoning her call, her presence, her—
“— and see what’s inside?”
Smolder nodded, without even turning to face Minuette. Smolder still faced to the left, captured in the memory of that pearly center of her mouth.
Minuette squinted at Smolder. “Hmm… okay. Well! In here, I have a very special mirror for us to try out. It’s on order from Fillydelphia, and it’s something of a treat, even for me…”
Smolder nodded.
“And let’s try to keep this between us for now. I know a certain mare that would threaten me for this thing,” Minuette said, as she lifted the device out of its box, glancing up, eyes narrowed, “and I really do mean threaten.”
Smolder nodded, but with more hesitation.
The device in question was a silver contraption resembling—
“A desk mirror?”
Damnit, Smolder, don’t cut me off.
Minuette looked up, persian-blue eyes meeting teal eyes. “Oh, this isn’t any old desk mirror.”
She turned it on.
“This is something special.”
And with that, Minuette smiled wide.
Smolder’s gaze was drawn, as if by magic, into the device. It pulled her eyes towards its center, and in its center laid a view into the very mouth of Minuette, in perfect detail.
Minuette’s tongue laid rest at the bottom, between a large row of flat molars. The whiteness of each tooth seemed sculpted by Celsetia herself — valleys of smooth white coming to curved peaks. Between each hard molar rested saliva: clear saliva, mimicking the texture of a restful lake, the shores of which touched the very edges of her gums. True valleys of pink, pink beyond the brightest to be seen.
And she’s no wimp, Minuette thought, as she stared into Smolder’s own dragon mouth, pushed open magically by the will of the device in front of her. Her tongue was sharp, and forked, flicking restlessly between the s-s-sh-sharp molars dear Luna those are sharp on the edge. Each large tooth, normally flat and smooth, struck an upward peak around each rim. Ribbed gums adorned the cavernous walls of the carnivore’s mouth, as was the roof. From the top reached down two, long, sharp, fangs — lubricated with the bubbly, slimy spit of Smolder. Round globules dripped onto her lower mouth, falling to the rippled muscle that moved below her tongue. From there, at the front of her mouth, were a smaller set of fangs, equally as sharp, equally as long as the top pair.
Their eyes met in silence.
Smolder’s flicked down first, but Minuette could not debate this, as her own snapped towards the other’s warm cave to explore more. The front of her teeth were flat. Flat, and unassuming, yet riddled with slopes and curves, and slimy, curious saliva. Smolder’s tongue slowed down, pushing the saliva around, swishing it to and fro along the sea of wonder that formed mist from her slow breath. Minuette noticed the small gaps between Smolder’s teeth, even and tight. Small reaches of gum pulled down, but not to intrude on the teeth. The teeth themselves were perfect, razor-sharp, and tall. Tall enough that, even with Smolder’s mouth willed open, as far as it could go, at the sides of her jaw, her teeth almost touched. Each tooth glistened. Each tooth shined, wet and dripping. Dripping, yet pushed at the behest of the breath of the dragon.
Minuette’s own mouth started to fill at the thought. Smolder noticed this. Smolder noticed all of “this”, with this bit of tooth covered by the tongue, but that one left open, out, exposed. Another, covered by the loose, wet, and warm embrace of her tongue, pressed against an ever-growing pool of saliva.
Smolder watched in pure, agonizing pleasure as Minuette’s own saliva built up, nearing the borders of those same lips she was captured by before. A few moments later, it overflowed — overflowed past the smooth valley of mountainous enamel: not crashing, but forming and shifting over the edge. The first wave fell, encouraged with a strong push of Minuette’s own smooth, oblong tongue. She knew what she was doing. The second wave dripped over her lips, down the left side, then the right. A third wave, all down the front of her mouth’s entrance, falling in a mesmerizing sheen of clear liquid onto the chin of the blue mare.
This was the same blue mare that sat in front of the orange dragon, wriggling and slack-jawed in front of a truly mesmerizing sight..
The two stayed like this for hours, gazing into the depths of each other’s maw. They traced along every smooth curve, sharp edge, and forked crevice. Their eyes dragged back to each other’s own eyes, sometimes for an entire moment — before succumbing to the rapturous pull that beckoned but the strongest minds.
And that, dear Reader, is why we take care of our teeth. Why we brush “multiple” times per day. Why we floss, mouthwash, and fluoride rinse.
Our own bodies may be normal to us, but it is also a perfect canvas to somebody else, defined by its strengths and flaws.
We are but our mistakes, lest we be somebody else.
And why be somebody else, when we bring our own beautiful smile.
Author's Note
A silly story given a certain dry-lipped penguin's affinity for writing about teeth, grins, smiles, mouths, and more.
