#Bay and Emmett

[ficzhub]

Guys if I wrote a fan fic about Bay and Emmett from Swtiched at Birth, how many of y’all would read it?

[phantompoguefangirl]

NO BUT FOR REAL WHAT WAS THE REASON???

what was the point in that bemmett montage if they aren’t end-game

[spockvarietyhour]

Only had 12 slots so did not include NX-01, Archer's Toy ship, Nomad, Ares IV (which eaglemoss never produced, get on that next company) and Friendship One, but I am always thinking about them

[wowthatsextra]

Emmett is always cheating lmfao. Like whether it's on or with someone, where there's cheating there's gonna be Emmett 💀

(I am in mid S3 when Bay cheats on Tank with Emmett - I do not feel sorry for Tank though. I know I should because at this point he hasn’t done anything but his rapist ass already gets way too much sympathy in this show and I'm gonna enjoy watching him suffer as much as I can)

[biliciouseleanor]

part of the reason why i can't rewatch switched at birth, it's because of what they did to Bay and Emmett. 🙄

[phantompoguefangirl]

NO FOR REAL.

They even did a future dream where Bay gives birth to Emmett's twins, or at least it is implied that she does.

But then the writers were like nah screw Emmett...here comes TRAVIS.

WHY? WHAT WAS THE REASON?

I could write an entire novel on how the switched birth writers forked up their own show in season four when they ruined Bemmett and turned Emmett into a terrible character. Like you spend four years making an iconic couple and proving they’re soulmates by pairing them together in any dream/A.U shown on the show about the switch- and then you don’t make them endgame? Then, you also practically replace Emmett with Travis as far as character story lines go? Because let’s be honest, that’s practically what the writers did. It’s been like three years but I still get so mad when I think about how the writers messed their own show up SO BADLY.

[jjsstars]

you with the watercolor eyes || on my tiktok

[cutcaspers]

tag drop -- bay kennish

[phantompoguefangirl]

Don't forget Tank

All of Bay’s guys are now hookin’ up with dudes!

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Consider this a part 2 of Can't Escape the Nightmares cuz I keep getting ideas for this story 🙃

Pairing(s): Jasper Hale x Human!Reader, platonic!Rosalie Hale x Human!Reader

Warnings: mentions of past assault, mentions of past rape, noncon themes discussed, reader is jasper's mate, platonic!rosaliexreader, human!reader, nightmares, trauma, ptsd, dark content, mention of blood, brief mention of murder/death, hurt&comfort, ft the cullen fam, yes i'd like to sign up to be protected by rosalie ✋🏼, and my depressive ass could certainly use a man like jasper lol

Words: 1253

Summary: It was hard for you to be outside. Not after what happened. And with the Cullen house surrounded by a sea of towering trees. . . It was difficult for you to even step onto the wrap around porch. Everything about the outside reminded you of that day in the woods.

They'd smelled your blood from miles away, noticing that it grew closer and closer until Rosalie was upon the doorstep with you dangling in her arms. Your eyes were open, though void of expression; merely staring at these near angelic looking family with gold hued eyes.

Your injuries were nothing major, yet your blood yanked at their olfactory senses.

And Jasper was helpless when, eyes being engulfed by jet black.

The expression in Rosalie's expression though kept him at bay.

"Get him out of here. He can't handle it." Rosalie snaps, her hold on you growing tighter.

Intently watching Jasper's every move, you see the rigidity of his frame and the back and forth sawing motion of his jaw. He must have ground his teeth to oblivion, at least that's what you thought.

Never imagining the true inner turmoil that was engulfing his every sensibility. Jasper's perpetually cold skin suddenly felt like it was on fire. A monster scratched at his mental door. A monster that wanted to taste every inch of your skin before sinking his straight, razor teeth into your delicate paper-like flesh.

"Jazz, snap out of it." Edward motions for Emmett to keep him back. His hiss is low as not to scare you further. Knowing all the horrors you had just gone through

The fog that reduced his head to a warm flush lifts enough for him to finally notice the state you were in.

Large splotches of red and rich purple are smattered across the entirety of your arms and legs, with a giant one blooming on your jaw. His stomach recoils at your lack of clothes. Connecting the visual clues together to realize what had happened and why Rosalie was dyed in a mess of different blood types that didn't belong to you.

You were already broken.

Suddenly that monster was silent, it too watching with baited breath as Rosalie carries you up the staircase and to Carlisle's office. The older blonde vampire quick and on her heels.

Jasper's monster seemed to take that moment to decide something that was against its very nature: it would protect you, guard you and keep you.

There will always be that hunger in him for your blood. But no longer would he be ruled by it.

When exhaustion finally swept over you, Jasper peeks his head into Carlisle's office. Rosalie sat on the floor in front of the couch you were asleep on.

She's in front of him in a flash, barring him entrance with a fatal snarl.

He dare not mess with this gold mama bear.

It was hard for you to be outside. Not after what happened. And with the Cullen house surrounded by a sea of towering trees. . . It was difficult for you to even step onto the wrap around porch. Everything about the outside reminded you of-

"They can't hurt you again." Edward mentions behind you as you stood in the front door, hand quaking above the doorknob.

That didn't relive the nausea in your stomach. Your eyes shut tight and Edward winces when your mind immediately goes to the day that you were assaulted.

When you catch yourself you immediately apologize and take a step back. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No, don't apologize." He's firm on this and finally you turn around. Surprisingly, the Cullens had understood the trauma you had gone through more than you would have thought. Every one of them had gone through a horrifying event much like your own. Rosalie's was almost identical to your's and possibly the very reason why she had saved you and killed those monsters who abducted you. And has protected you since then. She reminded you of a mother hen.

When Jasper first showed interest in you, Rosalie actually became aggressive toward him; telling him that you weren't ready for such a relationship. That you needed to heal more.

Jasper never stepped over any boundaries. He never came close to it. He waited. Helped you whenever you asked for it. Approached you tentatively until you told him that he didn't have to tiptoe around you. Many months were required before this. In the meantime you allowed Rosalie (and to a smaller extent, Alice and Esme) to tend to you and repair your fragmented body.

The only time he used his power on you without your permission was when you were asleep and suffering from your all too frequent nightmares.

"If you want, I can go outside with you. Maybe we can take a short walk around the house." He softly offers when you glance back at the door.

They were all so kind to you, never asking when you'd be ready to leave their house. It never came up. In fact you had the suspicion that Rosalie would insist on you living with them from now on. An unofficial part of the Cullen family.

You knew their secret. Living there, it didn't take long to discover that they were not human. From their perfect pale skin, to their golden eyes, there was something different about them. The way Edward was able to anticipate your every needs or how even being in the same room with Jasper had your anxiety simmering down. Even Alice displayed odd signs that you would have normally passed off as some kind of mental illness when she'd stare off into the distance. You now knew it was her getting a glimpse of the future.

"Thank you, but maybe today isn't the day. . ." You force your trembling lips to quirk up into a tentative smile though it could not fool Edward who could hear the inner turmoil in your mind. He never pushed.

He nods and lets you amble back upstairs to safety. The Cullens required no sleep so their bedrooms were essentially just for decoration. Rosalie and Emmett happily gave up their room so that you could seek out privacy when you were too overstimulated to be in their company. They even bought a tv just to put in the room for you. You didn't know what you did in your life to deserve them.

But before you go to your own designated room, you stop in front of Jasper's with a tentative hand raised to knock on his door. You were always nervous when asking him to hang out with you while Rosalie was gone. You'd heard Rosalie whisper to Emmett one night about you being Jasper's 'mate'. She must have thought you were fast asleep but you heard them discuss the possibility of a relationship between you and the other blonde Hale.

It made you self conscious now when you were near him. You'd known that he was. . . attracted to you.

You jump when his bedroom door opens to reveal his figure. "H-Hi."

His smile is always so sweet and even shy. "Hello."

"Um," Your fingers twist the hem of your shirt anxiously. " well, Rosalie is gone. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out for a little bit. . . Esme bought me a new dvd. We can watch it?"

Adoring the way his eyes crinkle when his smile broadens, you take a step back to allow Jasper to exit his room and close the door behind him. "Lead the way, ma'am." Your chest squeezes when that southern drawl of his comes out.

Trusting anyone again wasn't an easy journey. But being cradled by the Cullen family was bound to heal some wounds.

And perhaps water the seed of love that had been planted in your heart by Jasper.

[thealmightea]

🔁 reblog if you ship this couples like me...

[ come back for more to check for the newest because believe me when I said this will continue til the end of time ^^ because apparently I like collecting ships like collecting stamps or coins or cards. ]

[ there's canon and non-canon here, so if you don't like them as a couple/don't ship them/your ship is not here, don't come at me pls T.T ]

[ if there is good movies or series that you want to recommend to me and you think I should watch them, reply on my post down below at the end of this post or send me a message ;) ]

in alphabetical order

9-1-1 - Eddie and Buck (Buddie)

9-1-1 Lone Star - Carlos and T.K (Tarlos)

Addicted - Gu Hai and Bai Luoyin (Haioyin/Heroin)

Addicted - You Qi and Yang Meng

Alles was zählt - Deniz and Roman (Dero)

All of Us Strangers - Adam and Harry

Arrêstes avec tes mensonges - Thomas and Stéphane

Animal Kingdom - Deran and Adrian (Derdrian)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Aristotle and Dante (Aridante)

As The World Turn - Noah and Luke (Nuke)

Brothers & Sisters - Kevin and Scotty

Call Me By Your Name - Oliver and Elio (Olio)

Casualty - Jez and Mickey

Class - Matteusz and Charlie

Cuffs - Simon and Jake

Days Of Our Own - Sonny and Will (Wilson)

Dead Boy Detective - Charles and Edwin (Charwin)

Degrassi - Dylan and Marco

Degrassi - Miles and Tristan

Degrassi - Riley and Zane (Ziley)

Demain Nous Appartient - Rayane and Jack (Jayane)

EastEnders - Christian and Syed (Chryed)

El Cor De La Ciutat - Iago and Max (Maxiago)

El juego de las llaves - Valentin and Daniel

Emmerdale - Robert and Aaron (Robron)

Eu Não Quero Voltar Sozinho and Hoje Eu Quero Voltar Sozinho - Gabriel and Leonardo

Élite - Omar and Ander (Omander)

Eyewitness - Lukas and Phillip (Philkas)

Fellow Travelers - Hawk and Tim

Firebird - Roman and Sergey

Fisica O Quimica - Fernando and David

Free! - Makoto and Haru (Makoharu)

Free! - Rei and Nagisa (Nagirei)

Free! - Sōsuke and Rin

Freier Fall - Kay and Marc

Glee - Blaine and Kurt (Klaine)

Goede tijden, slechte tijden - Lucas and Edwin (Ludwin)

Grey's Anatomy - Nico and Levi (Schmico)

Hannibal - Hannibal and Will (Hannigram)

Hawaii Five O - Steve and Danno (McDanno)

Heartstopper - Nick and Charlie (Narlie)

Hit The Floor - Zero and Jude (Zude)

How To Get Away With Murder - Connor and Oliver (Coliver)

Hunter X Hunter - Leorio and Kurapika (Leopika)

In The Flesh - Simon and Kieren (Siren)

Interview with The Vampire - Lestat and Louis (Loustat)

Julie and The Phantoms - Alex and Willie

Kuroko no Basket - Aomine and Kise (Aokise)

Kuroko no Basket - Kagami and Kuroko (Kagakuro)

Kuroko no Basket - Kiyoshi and Hyūga (Kiyouga)

Kuroko no Basket - Midorima and Takao (Midokao)

Kuroko no Basket - Murasakibara and Himuro (Murahimu)

Legacies - Ben and Jed (Benjed)

Les Misérables - Enjolras and Grantaire (Enjoltaire)

Looking - Eddie and Agustín

Looking - Kevin and Patrick

Looking - Richie and Patrick

Love and Deepspace - Sylus and Xavier (Crowstar)

Love and Deepspace - Zayne and Rafayel (Snowfish)

Love Simon - Simon and Bram

Love Victor - Victor and Benji (Venji)

Man In An Orange Shirt - Steve and Adam

Man In An Orange Shirt - Michael and Thomas (Berrymarch)

Mario - Mario and Leon

Matthias & Maxime - Matthias and Maxime

MCU - Steve and Bucky (Stucky)

MCU - Spiderman and Deadpool (Spideypool)

MCU - Wolverine and Deadpool (Poolverine)

Merlí - Pol and Bruno (Brunol)

Merlin - Arthur and Merlin (Merthur)

Merlin - Percival and Gwaine (Perwaine)

Mo Dao Zu Shi / The Untamed - Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Nadie Nos Va A Extrañar - Alex and Rafa

O Beijo do Escorpião - Paulo and Miguel

One Live To Life - Oliver and Kyle

Oz - Chris and Tobias

Please Like Me - Arnold and Josh

Please Like Me - Geoffrey and Josh

Prisma - Daniele and Andrea (Dandrea

Queer As Folk - Ben and Michael

Queer As Folk - Brian and Justin (Britin)

Queer As Folk - Drew and Emmett

Queer As Folk - Ted and Blake

Raw - Geoff and Pavel

Rebelde -Luka and Okane

Red White And Royal Blue - Alex and Henry (Firstprince)

Roswell New Mexico - Michael and Alex (Malex)

Rykter - Mathias and Erik

Salatut Elämät - Lari and Elias (Larias)

Sala Samobójców - Aleksander and Dominik

Schloss Einstein - Noah and Colin (Nolin)

School 2013 - Heungsoo and Namsoon (Heungsoon)

Sense8 - Lito and Hernando

Sex Education - Adam and Eric

Shadowhunters - Magnus and Alec (Malec)

Shadowhunters - Raphael and Simon

Shameless - Ian and Mickey (Gallavich)

Skam - Even and Isak (Evak)

Skam Belgium (Wtfock) - Sander and Robbe (Sobbe)

Skam France - Eliott and Lucas (Elu)

Skam Germany (Druck) - David and Matteo (Datteo)

Skam Italia - Niccolo and Martino (Martinico)

Solo - Oskar and Milo

Spartacus - Agron and Nasir (Nagron)

Spartacus - Barca and Pietros (Bietros)

Station 19 - Travis and Emmett

Suits - Harvey and Mike

Supernatural - Dean and Castiel (Destiel)

Tatort Saarbrücken - Adam Schürk and Leo Hölzer (Hörk)

Teen Wolf - Danny and Ethan

Teen Wolf - Derek and Stiles (Sterek)

The Eagle - Marcus and Esca (Mesca)

The Halcyon - Toby and Adil

The Magicians - Quentin and Eliot (Queliot)

The Maze Runner - Newt and Thomas (Newtmas)

The Night Shift - Drew and Rick

The Old Guard - Joe and Nicky (Joenicky)

The Originals - Aiden and Josh (Jaiden)

The Silmarillion - Melkor and Mairon (Angbang)

The Society - Sam and Grizz

The Walking Dead - Aaron and Eric

Torchwood - Jack and Ianto (Janto)

Verbotene Liebe - Oliver and Christian (Chrolli)

Voltron Legendary Defender - Keith and Lance (Klance)

Waterloo Road - Preston and Kai

Young Royal - Wilhelm and Simon (Wilmon)

Yuri! On Ice - Victor and Yuuri (Victuuri)

... to be continued ...

❣ Give me some recs pls ❣

[there-are-many-ways-to-smile]

I figured it out. Daphne is the way she is because she's an only child, well she was raised like one. She only knows how to take and not share. That's why she reacts so negatively to Bay hanging out with Regina, or Emmett. I want to put Ty name down because her and Regina are like he's family but on the real they did not care about that man.

They never call Daphne out for acting like a spoiled brat.. well like Toby that one time

[wolf-girl]

The Cullen-Hale Clan

and their cover-up story in Olympic Bay

Since they are planning staying in Olympic Bay for a few years they are considered as a Clan. However, Rosalie and Emmett live in their own house.

Esmeralda Ana Cullen Pereira

born 1691, in Spain bitten by Eleazar, at the age of 36 Leader of the Clan, whenever they decide to move to the same city at the same time. in Olympic Bay she's known as Esme Cullen - a social educator, who had renovated their houses before they moved there; Carlisle's wife, Edward's mother, Alice's adoptive mother

Doctor Carlisle Cullen Pereira

born 1640, in England bitten by a vampire he had been hunting, at the age 38 He was alone, until he met his friends Eleazar and Carmen again in 1859. Esme was with them at the time and they fell in love, leaving the other two only eight years later. They have been together ever since. known as Doctor Carlisle Cullen - an amazing surgeon; Esme's husband, Edward's father, Alice's adoptive father

Alice Mei Bando

born in 1901, in Mississippi bitten by Carlisle, at the age of 19 Due to her visions her father brought her to a mental asylum, where Carlisle worked at the time. There she endured electroshock therapy which rendered her with total amnesia. James caught her scent and would have killed her, but Carlisle transformed her. Since her father had spread the lie that his daughter had died and her family never visited, he had offered her that life. Alice has no memory of her human life left. she is known as Alice Cullen - studying international business at the Peninsula College in Olympic Bay; Esme and Carlisle's adopted daughter

Edward Anthony Masen

born in 1983, in England bitten by Esme, at the age of 19 He barely survived a horrific accident. His mother died at the crash site and used her last breath to ask her colleague, Esme, who was in the car with them, to save her son's life. he is known as Edward Cullen, but he prefers the nickname Ardy - studying music at the Peninsula College in Olympic Bay; Esme and Carlisle's son

Rosalie-Liane Halle

born 1515, in France bitten by Tanya, at the age of 23 After being reborn she travelled with the sisters until 1898. Then she and Emmett left them to live alone. known as Rosalie Hale - a mechanic; Emmett's wife, Carlisle's sister

Emmett McCarty

born in 1815, Tennessee bitten by Esme, at the age of 25 Emmett was being mauled by a black bear in the mountains of Tennessee, when Esme was in the area hunting. She saved his life by transforming him. known as Emmett Hale - a park ranger; Rosalie's husband

[wowthatsextra]

I love how Bay and Emmett are in their own little romcom in John Kennish's worst nightmare 😂

[gisellelx]

Twilight Advent Calendar, Day 3

Dec. 3 - Pick one deceased Twilight character to draw or tell us more about. How would the Twilight universe be different if they were still alive?

"Or Does It Sag"

(~2,000 words)

December 3, 2023 Ashland, Wisconsin

Bella had been the one to break this particular dam.

It was a problem they all suffered from, if Edward were honest. The world changed so quickly around them, and it was easy to lose track of new possibilities on offer, especially when they were personal. An advancement in engine mechanics; sure, Rosalie would keep on top of that. A contemporary pianist rising to new fame; Edward would be aware. And with his daughter, these days, it was simple to be aware of other things he would once have not noticed: memes and new phrases, fashion trends too pedestrian for his sister to pick up on, Greta Gerwig and Christopher Nolan opening polar opposite films on the same weekend.

They all would forget, often, that the world changing might mean that certain things they had taken for granted needed reconsideration. That over time, the arc of history bent toward making the impossible possible.

His wife was sitting with their daughter on the the piano bench, Renesmee’s hands aglow from the white Christmas lights his mother had strung on the banister in the foyer. The tree would come later—Christmas Eve, their tradition since that very first serious fire hazard Carlisle had lit in the room of an inn on the shores of the Bay of Fundy, trying to coax, if not joy out of Edward, at least something a bit more like delight—but the house was already filled with other greenery, the air thick with the scents of white pine, ripened pinecone, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Across the room, Alice and Esme discussed the tree’s placement, how big it would need to be, as they hung ten stockings on the mantle in order by their entrance to the family: J, R, B, J, A, E, R, E, E, C. Although Edward knew Carlisle and Esme always hung them all anyway, this would be the first Christmas since the pandemic had begun that all ten of them would be filled. Jasper and Emmett had taken their Christmas cheer outside on Esme’s orders, and Rose had followed them, the living embodiment of the saying that behind every great man was a woman rolling her eyes.

And then there was Carlisle, whose newest schedule thrust him into two weeks of boredom at a time, curled up into one of the wingback chairs in his socks, staring at a page dense with text in the smallest font on his Kindle, but only pretending to read.

It had been earlier this year. Seventeen years of marriage, nearly nineteen of a relationship, and somehow Edward had never mentioned this crucial fact to his wife. They had been at the Toulouse house, discussing their next visit to the States, when Edward had mentioned something about his sire’s past; the knowns and the unknowns, and had let slip a crucial bit of missing information, a basic fact everyone had always taken for granted would forever be irretrievable.

Bella had just blinked at him a few times, and then, in the cutting way she had, offered, “Edward, haven’t any of you ever heard of Ancestry dot com?”

It had taken Bella all of twenty-four hours. A new account. A deep dive into church registers in London, 1600-1650. The parish records of one Saint James Aldgate, kept from 1625-1668 in a cramped handwriting that looked for all the world like Carlisle’s, which, when remarked upon, had only earned him a large eyeroll from his wife. “Edward. I know you think Carlisle sprang fully formed from the head of Zeus”—this time it was his turn to roll his eyes—“but you do realize that at some point someone had to teach him to write?”

And so they had pored over the records of births and marriages, baptisms and deaths, until they found her. Married, just barely twenty-two. Dead, just shy of twenty-four. One child, baptized the day she died. And the name, lost to the centuries until now.

They had presented this information for Father’s Day. Printouts of the pages; the dates, the eerily matching handwriting. Carlisle had swallowed deeply, thanked them, and shortly thereafter, left the room.

He hadn’t spoken of it. Edward hadn’t been sure if it had been an offense.

The composition under his daughter’s nimble fingers was over forty years old now, otherwise sounding like any other contemporary piano piece except that something about it sounded wintery, a musical affectation of the rapid whooshing of the Wisconsin wind against windows Esme had insisted upon keeping single pane. And as Edward listened, he let his mind drift along with his family's. It will need to be shorter. Esme, contemplating the tree. An expensive pair of earrings, no a necklace, no earrings, and…goddamnit, Emmett as Jasper tried valiantly to hide his holiday thoughts from his wife.

Pride, in equal measures, Jacob and Bella, listening to Renesmee at the keyboard.

And then…a little girl. Well, no, Edward realized at once. Not a girl, a child. Blond hair hanging in ringlets down to thin shoulders, a hat in the child’s—his—hand. The hat, falling to the ground from an open fist, as the dress swung around the child’s ankles, the hair flying in the wind as the child—the boy—giggled, racing into a woman’s round, pregnant belly.

“Carlisle,” the woman scolded gently. “You’ll wake your sister. Quiet, child.” A glance across a room, firelight dancing from the hearth, where a cradle sat on the floor, a warm glow across the cheeks of a plump toddler. Then the warm laughter again, a hand caressing the swell that was to be the third child. A boy, Edward knew somehow, through that strange alchemy that was his own mind and the mind he knew almost every bit as intimately. Then the boy, scooped up, held tightly to the ample bosom even as he giggled and squirmed. The imagined scent—roses, fresh air, sweat, soot.

As quickly as it came, the whole scene vaporized, replaced with live piano music, the scent of resin, Esme’s gentle laughter, the glow of LED twinkle lights. Edward looked up, catching eyes from across the room. A muttered excuse, and the sound of denim on upholstery as his sire excused himself, nonchalantly, as though he’d forgotten something.

But when he hadn’t returned ten minutes later, Edward also made soft noises about needing to find something, pressed his lips to the crown of his daughter’s head, and said, “Keep it up, Sweet.” His wife, ever perceptive, looked up from the bench.

Carlisle? she mouthed, and Edward nodded.

The house wasn’t large. The two of them had chosen it for themselves a hundred years ago, only later to share it with the woman Carlisle had, in all his impulsivity and to Edward’s initial dismay, saved from her own attempt at death. Following a scent—especially this most familiar one—was easy, and a moment later, Edward found himself in the study. His father’s chair was turned toward the wall, staring at a bookcase full of all manner of tomes organized in some system which after a century, still remained impenetrable even to Edward.

He didn’t say anything; it wasn’t as though he could sneak up. They both said nothing, the only sound in the stillness of the room their inhalations and exhalations.

“A sister?” Edward said finally. The head turned, and two pairs of golden eyes met.

“And a brother,” Edward added, and Carlisle shrugged.

It was the 1640s. Six would have been common.

“That’s not at all what I was commenting on, and you know it.”

Carlisle gulped. Edward came closer, perching himself on the perpetually messy desk.

“I wasn’t even sure you appreciated the gift,” he said quietly. “You’ve said so little about it.”

The blond head shook furiously. “I’m sorry. I’m grateful. It’s just—”

A flurry of images. The boy, giggling again. Older, hair shorter, wearing breeches this time. The sister, just as towheaded, her long ringlets dancing behind her as her brother pulled her through a small churchyard, scattering the handful of hens which lived there. The woman, a stern and wry look on her face, bouncing a toddler in her arms. Then blankness, again, the cutting off that Edward knew, like the slamming of a steel door, as Carlisle closed off his thinking to protect Edward from things he did not wish Edward to be privy to. Then came the sensations: the twist in the pit of the stomach, the raw, searing grief as fresh as it ever had been.

When this quiet had continued for several minutes, Edward spoke up. “You would’ve died, you know.”

A nod.

“And none of us would be here.”

Rosalie’s face swam suddenly in Carlisle’s mind. Not necessarily a bad thing.

Edward raised his eyebrows. “You’d trade us? Esme?” A pause. "Me?”

His father bit his lip, an uncannily human fidget that had once been put into his repertoire on purpose, but had now become so ingrained it was just part of him. The image shifted again: a series of flashes, rapid, one after another. The boy, school-aged, holding bravely still while the woman bandaged a knee. A teen, lifting a playful toddler out of the sacristy of the church—the sacristy remembered, the toddler imagined. A fourth child, Edward realized. The towheaded boy grown tall, his face the face of the young man Edward was used to. Clutching hands with a woman in white, anxiety and adrenaline and joy as he stood before an altar, the woman beaming at him from the first pew. And finally, the woman, older, her hair graying, as the young man placed a squashed-face infant into her arms.

Edward knew this part now, understood that Carlisle was so deeply content that he lacked the ability to imagine a family other than the one he had. That his dreams had a way of mixing the present with the past with the imagined, as though all of it were true. That if Edward had been able to lift the imaginary bride's veil, he would've seen the woman whose voice he could still hear floating down the hallway. That the infant being handed over in the memory now was the only infant Carlisle had ever imagined having: even though he had met Edward at age 17, he had a firm idea of what he would’ve looked like at six pounds. No hair—redheads were usually born bald—a grip surprisingly firm for a one-day-old infant. He saw the way the imaginary Carlisle beamed as he handed the bundle over to the woman. The way her eyes halfway closed in delight. Edward felt in the memory the way the baby felt in the hands, and recognized the way Carlisle’s mind was mixing this imagined baby and his imagined weight with a concrete memory from September, seventeen years before: Edward’s daughter; Carlisle’s palms.

I wish she could meet you.

Swinging his legs off the desk, Edward let out a bark of a laugh.

"Carlisle, you’re the one who believes in heaven. You really think she hasn’t?”

The image which surfaced this time was so similar, it was hard to tell if it was Edward’s alone or Carlisle’s, or both. The woman, fully gray haired now, her face wrinkled and her hands beginning to show liver spots. Sitting in their living room, laughing and giving tree advice to Esme, listening attentively to Renesmee, joking about Edward and Carlisle with Bella.

“Come on, Carlisle. If she’s anywhere, she’s here.” He hopped off the desk. “And you hiding in your office is probably not what she’d want.”

The nod came slowly. I suppose you’re right. He ran a hand through his hair and attempted a smile. Standing, he placed a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “I am glad you’re here. All of you. Even though the house is way too crowded.”

He chuckled. “We’ll leave before New Year’s.”

“Is that a promise?”

Edward punched Carlisle in the bicep, but they both laughed. Carlisle gestured to the door.

Come. Let’s see what your mother has figured out about the tree.

Edward nodded, and followed Carlisle’s steps. But at the door, his sire stopped, gazing back toward the desk where Edward still stood. The young boy resurfaced, lying against the woman, the girl, still asleep, the unborn infant a flutter under his brother's rib. Slowly, the boy's eyelids, too, grew heavy.

Carlisle blinked, snapping his mind abruptly back to the study. The boy was replaced by books. Thank you for giving her back to me.

And Edward saw it. Obscured by two pieces of mail, but still on top of the pile, the scent of Carlisle’s fingers still fresh, as though he’d rifled through it as recently as this morning. The envelope that he’d prepared, lettered in Bella’s handwriting, given for Father’s Day. The name, lost to time, resurfaced with technology, and with it, memory, imagination, grief, and somehow, love. As he moved, he brushed aside the bank statements on top, leaving the whole envelope visible as he exited the room.

Sarah

it read.

Closing the study door, Edward turned out the light and headed back toward his family.

Masterpost/Prompts Montage Masterpost

[dustedmagazine]

The Hard Quartet — s/t (Matador)

“Leave yourself behind and go into something where you’re actually listening to others and trying to come up with a solution to whatever kind of esoteric thing you are attempting to do in your life. You know what I mean?” — Emmett Kelly

Dragging on supergroups is practically a spectator sport among critics. So too is the idea that music that sounds like something from an ever-shrinking notion of the past is inherently suspect. The Hard Quartet explodes both canards on their debut recording for Matador. Emmett Kelly (best known for playing in The Cairo Gang), Stephen Malkmus (Pavement, The Jicks), Matt Sweeney (Chavez, Superwolf), and Jim White (Dirty Three), have a combined discography that could practically fill a mack truck with LPs. The performances in the Hard Quartet are reflective of their prior associations, true, but the amalgamation of these creates something fresh and distinctive.

Kelly’s explosive guitar solo kicks off album opener “Chrome Mess,” which is centered around an undulating modal tune that is both played and sung. “Rio’s Song” and “Our Hometown Boy” have group vocals nearly throughout on memorable power pop tunes. “Renegade,” on the other hand, is a visceral alt-rock offering, with a wall of guitars, powerful drumming from White, and exuberant vocals from Malkmus.

“Heel Highway” changes the mood significantly. A Bay area ballad, it recalls both the sixties and nineties. These tropes combine in Malkmus’s rangy lead vocal, dulcet vocal harmonies, arcing guitars and syncopated drumming. “Hey” is one of the album’s standout songs, with Malkmus’s laconic vocals, lead guitar breaks, layered rhythm guitars, and a chorus that draws on the appeal of slacker anthems.

The center of the album sees the band stretch out on “Six Deaf Rats,” with stream of consciousness lyrics in a soaring vocal melody that alternates with equally effulgent guitars. In a marked contrast, “Action for Military Boys” channels rhythmically charged second generation prog, with intricate scales in the guitars and martial drumming. There is an oasis in the middle where White lays out and a vocal bridge ensues. White returns and the music drives towards its former intensity.

“Jacked Existence” is the most delicate song on the recording, with hushed vocals and economical, Latinx-inflected rhythms. “North of the Border” has a loose, jam-inflected arrangement and Malkmus’s most emotive vocal, with backing vocals once again supporting him. The improvisatory nature of many of the band’s arrangements provides imaginative qualities to the music. “Thug Dynasty” has a terrific arrangement, with repeated synth notes added here and there and guitar breaks abounding. Malkmus makes the lyrics about lost time in his role in Pavement. The final track  ambles through the last five minutes of the album, with flurried music for the guitars, White’s inimitable drumming support, and another vocal where Malkmus tests the limits of his voice.

The Hard Quartet is one of my favorite recordings of the year, a strong collection of songs made by established artists who refuse to be hemmed in by anyone’s expectations.

Christian Carey