I- DID HE JUST HINT OF A NEW TWILIGHT MOVIE IN THE MAKING !!!??? ✨✨✨

Me reading fanfic: pls tell me there’s smut, I’m not reading if there isn’t any

Me writing fanfic: “and they held hands” WHEW 🥵 my readers gonna bust reading this 🥵 enough sinning for today

Moonlit ch.1

This is the first chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3k words

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella moves to Forks Washington, her first week is uneventful. This fic has aged up characters, making them all at entry-college level ages.

Chapter One

My senses are sharper in Forks than they were in Phoenix, I’ve only been here a handful of days yet everything seemed brighter, louder, more alive than my past home. There was something here for me, something that made me feel more alert than I have in years.

The sound of heavy rain slowly pulls me out of my restless sleep, an elbow is thrown across my eyes in an attempt to keep the real world at bay. It’s always raining, the mist layering the ground never abandons its post, and the chilly air seemingly lasts indefinitely. The rainy town of Forks Washington sooner resembles my personal hell than it does a sleepy old town. The forest that borders the town at each cardinal point is layered in green moss, damp dirt, and an endless supply of fresh animal tracks. I’d moved to Forks only a week ago, the sum of which was spent unpacking dreadfully thin clothing and acquainting myself with the few stores and public access areas the town has to offer.

My father, Charlie, has had little to do with this process apart from moral support and the occasional bag of fast food that he’s picked up while on shift. Charlie is the town's police chief, a job that both seems ill-needed and also unbearably boring. How much crime can be committed in a town of fewer than ten thousand citizens? Other than the odd tag on a school building or bush party, what does his shift consist of? I have yet to bring my insulting opinions on his career to his attention, and likely will never do so. He’s a good man with a heart of gold and a passion for the judicial system, which is ever-present in his TV browsing as he cruises through endless episodes of Law & Order.

I’m not a big TV person, even back home in Phoenix, I preferred reading to the television. Perhaps this was related to my mother’s endless stack of yoga DVD’s that seemed to consume our viewing; her in a downward dog position gossiping about her latest advancements at her newest club membership, me sitting on the couch finishing a craft for her so she won’t be late submitting it. My favourite of her crafts was embroidery, one month I embroidered nearly two hundred dandelions on a pair of jeans for her. She gave them to the club administrator as an apology before she quit.

Regardless, at night when the TV is blaring the intro theme to a cop show, I am curled in bed with a book under my nose and headphones in my ears. Blocking out the rain is a full-time chore.

This morning is a particularly eventful morning, not because of any specific events, but rather the events that will be set into motion because of this morning. Today is the first day of my online college courses. I’m currently enrolled in an undeclared major. My hope is that the three courses I’m taking this spring term will help me decide on what I want to do in the future.

Charlie had given me a new laptop upon my arrival in Forks, a current model with modest upgrades to “enhance my academic experience”. Or at least that’s what the box boasted. I am not entirely convinced that a larger memory will miraculously cure me of my educational despise. High school was tortuous, I had few friends and fewer interests outside of my mother’s hobbies. I had no extra-curricular activities that were not synonymous with financial responsibilities. The monthly budget book was mine to care for, as was the constant, intrusive phone calls of the bank when my mother got too engaged in a store. She’s a gullible woman if nothing else. If a store clerk tells her a blouse suits her figure, she’ll purchase ten colours in the article along with two in a size lower just in case she finally loses the ten pounds she’s been trying to shed.

My eyes have barely opened, the down of my forearm just a fraction away from my pupil when Charlie pounds against my door. You’d imagine I was fostering a fugitive in here with the noise he’s making, but this is just the way my father is, loud noises and soft voices. I wonder, idly, if perhaps he has minor hearing loss from spending so much time around guns.

“I’m up!” I call out, my voice is thin and calloused with morning sleep. I clear my throat as the knocking cuts off, “Good morning, Dad.” Charlie doesn’t like me calling him Charlie.

“Morning, Bells,” he calls back through the door, quiet enough to not be taken as aggressive yet loud enough to sound authoritative. He is a father, my father, at heart. He pauses, and it’s as if I can hear the mental gears shifting in his mind. He hasn’t had to be a father since I was a baby, after that Renee was the parent. Charlie was the summer distraction. “Don’t be late for school.” I grunt a response, reaching for the alarm clock on my nightstand and groaning at the early hour of the morning. Barely eight, class doesn’t officially start until noon. I guess there’s nothing wrong with logging in early, although I’d much rather catch up on the sleep I’ve lost to the thunderous storms we’ve been experiencing recently.

As if he could sense my intentions, Charlie knocks against my door again. “Bella, I mean it. You didn’t come here to slack off, now.” No, I think nastily, I came here for peace and quiet.

Between unpacking my belongings and touring the town, I’ve developed a routine in my new living situation. Charlie is fond of my company, enjoying having a woman in the house outside of his ex-wife, my mother and ex-roommate. Although, his fondness of my presence does not directly translate to time spent together. He makes me breakfast, occasionally placing it in the oven to keep warm, and then immediately heads off to his family that is the Forks police station. We meet again for lunch, depending on our individual plans for the day, and then reunite again just in time for dinner. Food really is the great American pastime.

I dress in jeans and a light blue sweater that smells mysteriously of mildew although it’s a recent purchase and has yet to be worn outdoors. I suppose the rain permeates every available space, closed windows be damned. My socks are tall and I have to roll my jeans up at the bottoms to accommodate for the thick, high fabric of them. It’s a trick Charlie taught me for wearing rain boots, the higher the socks the less likely they are to run down to your toes as you walk. Immediately after that trick was taught I went to the nearest hiking store and purchased a pair of rain boots. My first pair of rain boots at nineteen years of age. Unfathomable yet ironic considering my lineage marks back to the wettest town in the continental US. My ancestors roll in their graves every time I step outdoors and forget a jacket or umbrella, I’m sure of it.

Charlie is waiting for me downstairs, both a surprise and unwelcome presence. I had a battered copy of Dorian Gray under my arm, I was expecting philosophy and moral ambiguity, not idle conversation. Before the chief notices my book, I slide it over the back of the couch and enter the kitchen with a polite smile. There’s bacon frying on the stovetop, the police chief is dressed in uniform already, but has a stained white apron tied around his neck. “Dad?”

“Oh,” he turns around and gives me a tight smile, “Excited for your big day?” You’d imagine it’s my first day of preschool with the amount of enthusiasm he’s trying to keep hidden from me, not my first day of online school. I don’t say anything to dampen his mood, I’m glad he’s excited about something. His life is repetitive, if my existence here proves to be no more useful than just disrupting his schedule, it will still be a success.

“Yeah, I guess.” He turns back to the bacon and shifts it around quickly, the grease snapping up at him. If it burns him he doesn’t show it, just maintains the stiff-backed posture of a respectable police officer cooking his daughter breakfast. “I’ve gotta ask, what’s up with the apron?” I stifle a giggle behind a bite of the toast that’s sitting in the middle of the small table. He shakes his head in faux annoyance.

Charlie takes the pan off the hot element, sliding the bacon onto two plates and pouring the grease into an open can. The second trick he taught me since arriving here: never pour grease down the drain.

“I’m in uniform, it would be disrespectful to the badge to stain it.” He slides a plate of bacon in front of me, sitting down in his designated seat across the table. “Besides,” he takes a sip of coffee from his to-go mug. “Can you imagine walking into a police station smelling of fried pig?”

Breakfast ends quickly. We each eat a piece of toast, Charlie stuffing a second piece into a plastic bag “for later” and heading out the door. I still have half a plate of bacon in front of me after he leaves, the maple glaze filling the small kitchen with its smell.

After my Mom and Charlie got married, Renee redecorated much of the house. Her lace curtains still hang in the master bedroom window, constantly drawn closed. The rest of the house has been minorly updated with age, the TV got bigger, the couch more comfortable, new bed linens and even newer rocking chairs on the porch. I had asked Charlie if they were Moms when I first came up to the house a week ago.

They were rocking gently in the wind, the wood seemed to be polished as it shined in what little light filtered through the depressive clouds. They were sitting side by side, matching pillows on them both, a coffee table in the middle with a stack of coasters. It was an old person's porch, where husband and wife would sit all grey and wrinkled, waving at the neighbourhood kids as the bus dropped them off from school. I could almost picture Charlie and Renee sitting there, her knitting a scarf and him content to just watch her and the scenery.

He informed me that they were relatively new, a purchase from a shop down on the Reservation. We haven’t spoken about them since, but I wonder if perhaps he wishes he had someone to sit out there with him.

I spend the morning before class doing odd chores around the house. It’s nice living at Charlie’s, nicer than I had expected it to be. I’m not a fan of the weather or the fact that I currently have no social life, but it’s nice to just sit. I throw my laundry in the wash and manage to get the kitchen cleaned up with just enough time left over to sit on the couch and read a chapter of my book before class.

School has never been my strong suit. That’s not to say I get poor marks or intentionally skip classes, I just never found it as fulfilling as my peers seemed to. I never woke up and looked forward to the social or academic aspect of high school. Perhaps this contributed to me postponing my college experience and only starting it now when I should already be a year into my program.

When I log into my schools online database and click on my first class, Social Psychology 1001, I’m immediately transported to a screen filled with windows and the faces of my classmates. “Hello, class!” The professor's voice calls out over my computer. Perhaps online school won’t be my strong suit either.

Class ends and the next one starts, and I get through all three classes and an hour's worth of homework by the time Charlie pops in for dinner.

“Hey, Bells,” He calls as he opens the front door. I can hear him from where I sit in the kitchen, hanging his gun belt up by the front door and kicking his boots off into a heap on the floor. I imagine Mom back in Phoenix, walking into the house with arms full of bags and tossing her flip flops onto her pile of shoes beside the coatrack she used for purses. Some things won’t ever change.

“How was work?” I ask. He pauses to poke his head into the kitchen, moustache moving as he chews on his lip. I can’t remember when Charlie initially grew out his moustache, just that one summer I arrived and thought could he look more like a cop?

“Good, good, just some meetings. New family moving into town, all foster kids around your age.” He takes pause, staring off into some middle ground in the hallway as if deep in thought. His eyebrows furrow, “Don’t want any trouble makers coming in, but the father seems nice. Respectable.”

“That’s nice,” I contribute conversationally. Charlie and I rarely have material conversations, always just idle talk of the weather or what's for dinner. I’m not entirely sure how to approach this topic, which clearly seems to be occupying his mind.

“Yeah, he’s a doctor.” He grins at this, toothy and a little crooked to the right side. A pang of embarrassment settles in my chest before he speaks, as if knowing where this will turn. “Perfect for you, considering how often your clumsiness-” I wave a hand over my face, grimacing at his words. “Don’t speak it into existence,” I mutter with a half-hearted plea underlying my words. He chuckles, disappearing up the stairs.

I hear the shower turn on after a few minutes of him fumbling around, presumably trying to get undressed. I’m sure once he’s showered and in sweatpants it’ll be twenty questions about my day of school. I’m not sure I have the heart to break the truth to him: it absolutely sucked.

The material was interesting enough, psychology has always been close to my heart. I loved the idea of people being more than their actions and thoughts, that there was something making them say that or something making them act that way. Perhaps this was yet another symptom of having Renee for a mother.

I sit at the kitchen table for a moment longer, my computer is closed in front of me and my pencil case- dreadfully unnecessary with school being online-sits closed and untouched. I haven’t made any friends in my classes, not that I had expected to. Twelve years of public school and no friend group to show for it, just a few texts every couple of weeks. Why would I have believed college, and an online college at that, would be any better?

Having enough with my thoughts, I get up from the table and pack my things into my bag. I’ve completed enough work for today, the rest of the evening I’ll spend either with Charlie or in my room. I’d rather not be nose deep in pdf textbooks and youtube videos constituting as follow-up lectures, I’ve had enough of that today. As if sensing the immediacy of my departure from the kitchen, the shower cuts off and I hear the bathroom door squeak open. For a man who, until recently, lived alone with too much free time, you’d imagine he’d have taken better care of the house. Nearly every door, except my own, creaks open and closed. I made sure to oil my hinges nearly immediately after moving in, I didn’t want Charlie to wake up every time I sneak downstairs for a comfort snack or warm glass of milk to help me sleep. He’s lived alone for nearly twenty years, he doesn’t need his sleep schedule disrupted now.

“The game is on in-” Charlie pauses as if double-checking the times mentally, “- an hour and a half. Are you interested?” He’s calling from up the stairs. I wonder if he truly wants me to watch the game with him, whatever sport it may be, or if he’s only being polite.

“Uh, I was just going to organize my room right now and then maybe make something for dinner,” I say in response. The floors don’t make a noise and I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t respond. A lump forms in my throat, perhaps he really did want to watch with me.

“That’s fine, but if you want we can order in?” The lump passes and I convince myself that there is no reason to avoid the TV. It’s not like I’ll be a disruption, if I get bored I can read on the couch. I’ve only watched TV with Charlie on a few occasions since my move here, and each time I strategically saved my questions for the commercial breaks.

“Sure! That works.” The floorboards creak and I hear him retreat into his room, the door closing with a pitiful squeak.

We eat pizza on the couch, a large meat-lover for the carnivorous father and a small vegetarian with extra mushrooms for the daughter who cares about her cardiovascular health. We eat slowly, occasionally Charlie will make a face at the television or mumble something under his breath, but other than that we’re quiet. The sport turns out to be baseball and I recall a few of the basic rules from the tragic gym classes of my past. It’s not disastrous in any way, and surprisingly I don’t get bored. There is something relaxing about the repetitive nature of the game.

After the game ends we box up the remaining slices and put them in the fridge to be eaten tomorrow, say good night, and go our separate ways at the top of the stairs.

taglist:

@musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

I'll take Tired Vampire Dads for 300 please

me... posting the first chapter... of my fic... today?

Perhaps 😏

i was literally about to post something along the lines of "carlisle will adopt anything with a pulse" and then. i remembered. so now it is "carlisle will adopt anything, pulse optional"

edward cullen was a scorpio venus

Cullen Family Birthday Headcanons (Oldest - Youngest)

Carlisle Cullen: January 20, 1640; London, England

Jessamine Hale: December 23, 1844; Houston, Texas

Earnest Cullen: May 1, 1895; Colombus, Ohio

Alice Cullen: February 19, 1901; Biloxi, Mississippi

Edythe Cullen: June 20, 1901; Chicago, Illinois

Rosalie Hale: April 22, 1915; Rochester, New York

Emmett Cullen: July 14, 1915; Gatlinburg, Tennessee

Edythe: *texting* Hey Carlisle.

Carlisle: *texting* Hey.

Edythe: *texting* What are you doing?

Carlisle: *texting* Making money.

Edythe: *texting* Lol.

Carlisle: *texting* What are you doing?

Edythe: *texting* Walking to my locker.

Carlisle: *texting* So texting me to look cool and avoid social contact?

Edythe: *texting* Yep.

Collision - Chapter 3

Word Count: 2,578

Characters: Female Reader Uley Character, Sam Uley, Allison Uley, Charlie Swan, Bella Swan, Seth Clearwater, Billy Black, Jacob Black, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Harry and Sue Clearwater, Leah Clearwater

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Twilight, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Stephanie Meyer and Summit Entertainment. The only thing I own is Uley Reader insert, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ story line.

Chapter: 3/?

A/N: Hello, Cullens! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Follow Me! it would really help me out 🥺

<-Previous

Chapter 3

(Y/N) was in awe of the man standing before her. A pale young doctor with blond hair and striking golden eyes. His face held a warm smile that made her feel at ease and warm inside. Although it did falter for a millisecond, something she attributed to the shadows cast by the darkroom. He seemed stuck in a trance but entered the room swiftly.

“So, how’s the patient? Sensitive to light, I see,” the doctor commented on the unlit room.

“Yeah, turned them off. Seemed to bother her,” Charlie answered, (Y/N) being too struck to muster up words.

“That’s alright.” He smiled, finishing his conversation with Charlie, and turning to her. “Hi, (Y/N). I’m Dr. Carlisle Cullen. Hit your head pretty hard, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s the only thing that could explain the headache,” she answered hoarsely.

“Well, your CT scans all came out perfectly. It does seem you have a minor concussion and I had to stitch up your forehead. But other than that, you can leave as soon as you sign the discharge papers. For the next seven to ten days try your best to engage in low impact activities, nothing that might move your head around too much, and try your best to not further injure yourself,” he chuckled. “If any symptoms persist after that time frame, come back to see me as soon as possible. Would you be taking her home, Sheriff Swan?”

“Yes, doctor. Her truck was quite mangled up.” Charlie stood beside (Y/N).

“Perfect, I’ll have a nurse send by the discharge papers and you’re free to go. Hope you feel better soon,” he smiled, and as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone.

Carlisle couldn’t wait to get out of the room. The smell emitting from the girl laying on the hospital bed created a hunger that ravaged his body like nothing he had felt in over two centuries. He knew exactly what this meant and the repercussions it would bring. He knew he couldn’t be near her, yet a part of him didn’t want to be apart from her any second longer. Carlisle had found his blood singer and his mate in the sister of his enemy.

Inside the room, (Y/N) was left dumbfounded by the sudden departure of the doctor. She felt a strong magnetic pull towards Carlisle, something she had never felt in her life. Before she could ask anything else, the older man had left the unlit room. Charlie was outside on the phone, possibly speaking to her mother. In walked a nurse, holding in one hand (Y/N)’s clothes and in the other a clipboard with papers. (Y/N) got dressed as quickly as she could, still feeling a little woozy from the pain killers, and signed the papers to be released.

After she was done, she exited the room and was met with the Sheriff.

“Ready to go home?” He asked, a sad smile adorning his face.

“Definitely,” she smiled. “By any chance, were you able to retrieve the bags from the back of the truck?”

Charlie chuckled, of course, the girl would be worried about other things. “Yeah, I had my buddy bring them around after he towed the truck.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” (Y/N) smiled and followed the tall man to the cruiser. Walking slowly and carefully, she finally made it into the police car and sat on the passenger seat.

Her head was still hurting, and her thoughts were still hazy, but the only certain thing was that she wanted to know more of the pale doctor that had ailed her wounds.

The drive to her house was short, and outside she was met with her worried mother and a scared brother. As soon as the car stopped, Allison and her eldest son rushed to the passenger side of the cruiser.

“Oh, honey, what happened?” Allison said between tears.

“I think I hit my head or something,” (Y/N) chuckled. Allison was not amused. “I’m okay, mom. A deer jumped out and I swerved to avoid hitting it, but the car slid and hit a tree. Luckily, Sheriff Swan was close by and got me to the hospital.”

“Yes, thank you so much, Sheriff Swan. Don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.”

“Just doing my job, Allison. Glad I could get to her on time.” Charlie smiled. “Now, Dr. Cullen said that her symptoms might last a few days, but they shouldn’t last for more than ten days.”

“What happens if it goes longer?” Sam asked.

“I die,” (Y/N) held back a laugh. Clearly, no one was amused. “Just kidding, I have to go back to get checked. Jeez, tough crowd.”

“Thank you for bringing her over, Charlie.” Allison shifted the attention. “And for taking the truck over to Jacob.”

“No worries, Allison. Just doing my job.” He smiled. “Make sure this one doesn’t get into any more trouble.”

The sheriff smiled and got back into the cruiser, leaving once the family trio was inside the house. Inside the house, Sam quietly went up the stairs to put (Y/N)’s bags in her room and Allison helped her daughter up the stairs. The Uley son was quiet as he put away his sister’s bags and kept to himself as his mother helped (Y/N) settle on the blue bed.

Only the rustling of the paper bags and the creaking of the bed was heard in that room. There was a palpable tension in it and the air was almost choking. (Y/N) laid in bed and watched her family members move around without interacting with each other. The girl couldn’t understand the strain that had separated her loved ones.

“I’m surprised you got here when I called, Sam,” Allison broke the silence in a sharp tone.

“Mom,” (Y/N) interjected.

“My sister was hurt, of course I would be here,” Sam defended himself.

“I guess I’m just shocked that you’d leave whatever is so important that you always do for your sister,” Allison added. “You know, like you did last night.”

“Mom, that’s enough.”

“It’s fine, (Y/N).” Sam kissed her forehead. “I’ll come by tomorrow in the afternoon to help you in here. Bye, mom.”

Sam left in the blink of an eye, leaving an angered mother and a saddened sister.

“You didn’t have to do that, mom. It was just a dinner.”

“It’s also two years of not knowing my own son,” Her mother sighed. “It’s nothing for you to worry about right now, darling. Why don’t you rest for now?”

“Okay, mom. Love you, good night.” (Y/N) heard her mother respond as she drifted to sleep.

Over in the Cullen house, a pixie-like vampire was waiting excitedly for the doctor that posed as her father. Alice Cullen had the gift of future sight, a gift she never took for granted. A couple weeks ago the young vampire had gotten a vision of a very important person that would come into Carlisle’s life. She couldn’t see this person’s face, meaning she was grouped into the beings that clouded her sight, shapeshifters and Isabella Swan. But she was able to witness a long life of beautiful moments between them and Carlisle. That morning, as Carlisle was getting ready for work, Alice noticed that the doctor had dressed in the exact clothing she had foreseen. Today was the day they would meet. On the other side of the house was a smiling Edward Cullen, the second oldest vampire in the coven. His gift allowed him to know exactly why his adopted sister was anxiously waiting for Carlisle. Those weeks ago, he had seen the vision Alice had running through her head. He had also witnessed the outfit choice of the doctor and shared the excitement the small vampire had. Edward had spent almost a century alongside the doctor and had been equally single until last year when the forever 17-year-old met Bella.

Although to the public eye Carlisle and Esme Cullen were a couple, the reality was that neither had a mate. As Carlisle turned more young people into vampires, the pair decided that it would be easier if they presented themselves as a married couple. To others, they were a couple in their late 20s with 5 teenage, adopted children because they couldn’t have kids of their own. But the Cullen family knew how much their parental figures were really hurting, especially watching how most of them had their life partners. That’s why Carlisle threw himself into work and Esme busied herself with mindless house chores.

On the couch sat Jasper Hale the empath, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the excited energy emanating from his mate as well as being hit by the annoyed energy emanating from his sister Rosalie. Since hearing of Alice’s vision, she couldn’t help but detest the idea of another human like Bella or even a shapeshifter joining the clan. Especially if it was a shapeshifter.

The crunching of rocks brought to the attention of the family that the patriarch had arrived at the home. Alice perked up and sped to meet him at the door, a smile illuminating her face. Carlisle hopped off the car with a heavy sigh and grabbed his briefcase from the passenger seat. Meeting (Y/N) had drained any energy he possibly could’ve had for the rest of the night, finishing his shift seemed almost impossible. As he opened the front door he was met with a smiling Alice.

“Hi, Carlisle, any special news you might want to share with us?”

“Yes, Alice,” he smiled softly, rubbing his eyes. “I met her today.”

“You did?” Esme chimed in, a smile on her lips.

“Yes.”

“You have to be kidding,” Edward said, shock spilling from his words.

“What?” Alice asked.

“She’s an Uley.”

“Then it can’t be her.” Rosalie added. “What kind of cruel joke is it that your mate could possibly be one of them.”

“It’s her,” said Edward. “There’s no doubt in that.”

“Great, because we don’t have enough trouble with the human, let’s add the sister of a mutt into the mix.”

“Rosalie, please.” Esme reprimanded the blonde. “So, how was it?”

“Well, she came in with a mild concussion so, not great.” Carlisle started. “And the smell of her blood made me want to wreak havoc in that hospital. Also, she’s the sister of our sworn enemy.”

“Everything is coming up Cullen, huh?” Emmett snickered, trying to alleviate the mood, but earned a warning stare from Alice.

“But I’ve seen your future, and it’s beautiful.” Alice comforted. “You’re finally happy.”

Those words took the centuries old man aback. He had been happy with his family but always felt something missing. He had tried for years with Esme to find that piece to fill the (time resistant) void, but it was fruitless. The pair cared for each other, but they weren’t meant to be together. Esme and Carlisle had remained friendly companions and perfect parental figures to the five teenagers that resided with them.

“I don’t know, Alice. It just seems too complicated.” Carlisle refuted. “Don’t you think if she was really the person I was meant to be with, it would be easier?”

“But look at Edward and Bella. He’s spent all this time alone and found his match in a human. It can work.”

“Yeah, look how well that’s turned out,” Rosalie scoffed. Her disgust towards humans very apparent in her tone.

“Rosalie, that’s enough, please. And Alice, if it really is meant to be as you believe, I shall let things run their course, but I won’t pursue it. Whatever happens, happens.”

“I’m good with that,” Alice smiled and shook Carlisle’s hand. “Whatever happens, happens.”

***

(Y/N) spent the next five days with the face of a man inundating her mind. Without being able to partake in her usual activities her head had slowed down enough to entertain non-work-related thoughts. The only time it seemed unoccupied was when her brain was pounding with an unbearable headache. Allison had been berating her daughter to go back to the hospital and get herself checked out. But (Y/N) was determined to make it at least to seven days.

“Morning, mom,” (Y/N) chimed as she descended the stairs and met her mother in the kitchen. The smell of breakfast had inundated her sense and her stomach was growling before her eyes had opened.

“Good morning, darling. How are you today?”

“Headache’s still there. I could barely sleep last night; I don’t even remember how I made it up to my room.”

“Honey, you really don’t remember?” She shook her head. “What about what we did before?”

“Last thing I remember is eating dinner.” (Y/N) replied nonchalantly.

“That worries me, darling. I’ve been reading online and those are symptoms of post-concussion syndrome, and that’s not good. I think we should take you back to the hospital.”

“Mom, that wouldn’t apply for another two days. I think I’ll live.” (Y/N) chuckled, but seeing the worried look on her mother’s face, she stopped. “Seriously, mom, if it gets worse, I’ll go back.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” she smiled. “Now, I’m gonna go over to Billy’s and check out the progress on the truck. Love you.”

“Love you too. Be careful,” Allison smiled and kissed her daughter’s head.

The walk to the Black’s house wasn’t too far and thankfully the day wasn’t too hot. The fresh air felt good for once. (Y/N) had been kept inside the house these past days with her mother helicoptering over her all the time. She was grateful for her caring mom, but she felt suffocated. There wasn’t much she could do from her bed and that’s where she was kept most of the time. Being able to stretch her legs and move around was exactly what she needed.

As she neared the Black household, she could hear tinkering from the open garage on the side of the residence. Her mangled truck seemed almost back to its normal state.

“Hey, Jake.”

“(Y/N)!” The long-haired boy peeked his head from under the hood of the truck and went to give his friend a hug. “How’re you feeling?”

“Eh, could be better. You know, could do without the constant headache but it’ll pass.” She smiled. “How ‘bout you? This thing looks almost as it did before!”

“Yeah, it’s almost done. Thankfully, it wasn’t too mangled, been working on it nonstop so you can have it back.”

“Jake, oh my gosh, have you even had time to rest?”

“Who needs rest, right?” He laughed. “It looks like you might though.”

(Y/N) had gone slightly pale, her vision blurring at the edges. “Can you get me some water, Jake?”

“Yeah, of course. Sit,” he motioned to the stool that rested against the garage wall. “I’ll be right back.”

Jake jogged quickly towards his house to retrieve water as (Y/N) sat. She felt short of breath and the room was spinning slowly. She could hear Jake’s footsteps from far away even though he was nearer than she thought. He was by her side in a matter of seconds holding a water bottle to her pale lips.

“I already called your mom. You’re going to the hospital.” (Y/N) shook her head not wanting to go back until day seven. “This isn’t a negotiation, (Y/N). You’re going.”

The girl tried to speak up but felt herself feeling like she was floating. She was sure Jake was still speaking and she was responding. But, on one of her blinks, she succumbed to darkness once again.

<-Previous

Tag list: @daniallh @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @jessicas-underground

I hate doing self promo but I’m in love with this new redbubble design I made so go check it out :)

Hey everybody!

I’ve had a few people ask to be added to my taglist for my Jacob/Bella fic that I’ll be posting very soon. If you haven’t tuned in to my constant rambling about it you can get the general gist of it from here and here. 

I’ll be posting it on tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. Buttt, I will be posting on tumblr early (so if you want on my taglist you’ll read it a day before everybody else). 

I’ll be posting on a schedule, roughly one chapter every week and a half (chapters are of fair length, 3k-6k words each). If you want to be added to my taglist let me know either in a private message or in the comments :))

carlisle cullen inspired

Okay, hear me out:

What if the Cullens did have fingerprints, and Carlisle's fingerprints were left at a medical emergency scene (bear with me) so of course, they run all the fingerprints, and find ones that have hits dating all the way back to 1892 (which was the first successful fingerprint id) at various medical scenes? What would you even do in that situation (after assuming your tech is malfunctioning)? Be like "uhhh boss? I think we need ur help"??????

Edward smugly strutting past Carlisle post Breaking Dawn with Bella and Renesmee in tow and patting him on the chest.

“Looks like you’re not the only one around here who can make little vampires anymore, pops.”

Carlisle chuckling to himself happily as Esme walks up and wriggles her way under his arm so they can stare after them happily.

If Midnight Sun gets turned into a movie I hope they do it animated adult swim style so they can really embrace the absurdity of the story.