#spanishinfluenza

[spanishinfluenza]

Pov: you're an immortal doctor working a 72 hour shift in the operating theatre on Christmas day. You get home at 10:02pm on Christmas evening. Your immortal wife is waiting for you

[palmofafreezinghand]

carlisle cullen's instagram.

the rest of the series here & thank you to @spanishinfluenza who suggested this months ago.

[edwardskhakipants]

Hey, sorry to bother you, do you know of any other Twilight blogs that are active to follow please?

Hey! Never a bother!!

@edwardsvirtue; @acewardcullen (my Edward Icon Gang) @exceptionally-unobservant; @howly; @needahugfromesme; @twilight-good-yall-dumb; @twilighteclipsed have some of my favorite thoughts on this site.

@vampiresinforks has great takes and creates beautiful gifsets. @forks-core and @cullen-clan spread those twilight vibes we all need.

@palmofafreezinghand; @jessicanjpa; @spanishinfluenza; and @gisellelx are still out here writing amazing fic (and yours truly). @flowerslut and @volturialice have podcast (@threebooksoneplot) AND a bookclub (@bellasbookclub) @panlight and @askcarlislecullen are still answering asks.

I know there are so many I've forgotten. I also know we've gotten smaller, but we're still here!!

[needahugfromesme]

Give me some good twilight fanfiction recommendations! Carlisle and Esme especially!

I answered a similar question months ago and you can find it here👇

https://www.tumblr.com/jessicanjpa/701710499239411712/can-you-recommend-some-of-your-fave-carlesme-fics

and I really want to add @spanishinfluenza 's spicy carlesme fanfic

[thecullanos]

shoutout to @youareonlyastory and @spanishinfluenza for being the baddest bitches to not only be practically offered places in pfach’s harem but for also briefly exposing him to cullano content absolutely stunning unhinged behaviour and they collectively slay all day we at the cullanos salute you ♥️🔪🩸⛓️

[youareonlyastory]

It's @spanishinfluenza's birthday!!!

Happy Birthday to the damn most creative, hilarious, witty genius on this planet... and in gift... I give you cursed SC attempts.

May your Day of Birth Be Forever Celebrated and May you achieve more skill and more successes than Dr C ever did at your age.

You forever are and forever will be so dearly Loved.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEENIE

[gisellelx]

@spanishinfluenza How fucking DARE YOU leave this in the tags 😂🤣😂

Cover letter with the vampire

CV update with the vampire

Intake paperwork with the vampire

[palmofafreezinghand]

Carlisle Cullen goes to his first-ever birthday party, on his two hundredth and eighty-second birthday. on ao3 here.

happy birthday @spanishinfluenza !!! here's a lil gift for the momentous occasion.

February 20, 1922: 

The hour-long drive home was far too long that evening. Work had been torturous. A seventy-two-hour shift had turned into a hundred-and-twenty-hour shift when Dr. Reynolds came down with a stomach bug fifteen minutes into shift change. 

Carlisle spent his two-hundredth and eighty-second birthday like all of his previous birthdays, in an operating room with people who knew nothing about him. 

It had rarely bothered him before, in fact, he always asked to work on the day. There was something about saving lives on the anniversary of the first, and only, time he had murdered someone. He couldn’t quite name it but he hoped, despite all odds, it would make her proud. The more selfish part of him knew this effort to spend the day serving others was entirely due to the fact he would spend the entire day wallowing if he didn’t have a distraction, innocent people on death’s door. 

It had been three days since he visited the hospital chapel on his lunch break; and, said his annual prayers, wishing her a peaceful rest, hoping for her reunion with her love, the man who made his life… who had done his best in the storm of unfathomable grief. Now Carlisle was sprinting home, his automobile ditched on a hidden dirt road, a crucial path in the local bootlegging society and a wonderful hiding place for a vampire annoyed with the prospect of traffic. 

Less than twenty minutes later, he found himself walking up the windy driveway to a once abandoned hunting lodge; hair windswept and looking utterly ridiculous, his scarf twisted around his neck like a kudzu vine, and holes worn in the soles of his shoes. He was gaining a ridiculous appreciation for the view he once thought nothing of. 

He was walking up the drive at a ‘human’ speed when a weight dropped onto his back, dropping from the branches above him. 

“Ah!” He exclaimed in what had to be the least convincing tone possible. The smell of honeysuckle, linseed oil, and charcoal shavings had given her away immediately. 

He could feel her sigh as much as he heard it, her chest heaving against his back. Soft arms hooked around his neck, thick thighs wrapping around his waist, his hands immediately catching them to keep her up, despite her attack. She pressed a kiss to his right cheek and slid off his back.  

“Hi,” she smiled up at him, dimples shining, when she took her place by his side, taking her hand in his.

“You look quite nice,” Carlisle said earnestly, taking in her outfit; well, taking her in. Her curls were piled up on her head in a structurally unsound bun, and a few messy curls were already falling out, framing her face. She was wearing a pink floral chiffon summer skirt and one of his green sweaters. 

She ducked her head away from his gaze and praise, he caught her chin with his index. “I like this sweater. Although, I don’t believe it’s yours.” 

That earned him a bashful smile. “It looks better on me,” she joked, although it was nothing but the truth.

“Can’t argue with that,” he grinned. The green complimented her hair, and her eyes looked especially gold, mimicking raw honey. He meant what he said, she looked quite nice. It was still slightly inconceivable she had ever chosen him, he figured it always would be. 

“You know you can kiss me you don’t have to just stand there and think about it,” she whispered, squeezing his hand slightly. 

Well, that was entirely inconceivable, but he’d be remiss to not at least try. 

“How do you know when I’m thinking of kissing you?” He asked when he pulled away from the said kiss, one hand cradling her jaw, the other wrapped around her left hand, the band of her engagement ring cold and reassuring against his skin. 

“You get this look in your eyes,” she said softly, her free hand gently resting against his chest. “I can’t explain it.” 

He smiled softly, brushing a curl off her forehead. “As if I can’t believe you’re real?” 

“Is that what it is?” She murmured, pulling him back for another kiss. 

“You need to go inside,” she said abruptly, pulling away from the kiss and him. 

“Oh?” He caught her hand, pulling her back to his chest. “Are you coming with me?” 

“No. Yes. But not like that. There’s something I need you to see inside.” 

“I like what I see now,” he said, hands moving to her waist, she instinctually leaned into the embrace despite her words.  

“Inside.” “I’m savoring the view,” he muttered into her temple as he peppered kisses across her face. 

“No, no savoring. Go inside,” she said, pointing towards the house as she attempted to break out of his arms, but he just squeezed tighter. “Edward is going to be late for class. Inside,” she pushed him towards the door, he let her move him a couple of feet but pretended to object. “Wait, I have to go in first.” 

“I won’t complain,” Carlisle said under his breath as Esme ran in front, the chiffon dress moving with every curve of her body. 

“I would like to remind you both, I am still here and can hear you, and your thoughts,” Edward grumbled from inside the house. 

Carlisle sent his mental apologies, desperately trying to think of anything but the view of Esme climbing the stairs before him. Thank the Lord gravity somehow still worked on them, and oh how did it work… baseball — baseball was an excellent sport — a chaste sport a wonderful thing to think about, absolutely nothing scandalous or traumatizing to a telepath about baseball. 

A palm hit his chest, at some point they had reached the foyer while he had been intently focused on… baseball. “Close your eyes,” Esme said, standing in front of the living room door, which was oddly closed. 

“Are you going to rob me?” 

“No,” she rolled her eyes. “Stop being difficult and close your eyes.” 

He reluctantly did as she said. She kissed his cheek quickly in thanks and then her footsteps scurried away. 

Eight seconds went by as he stood foolishly in the foyer. “Alright, you can come in!” Esme called from the living room. 

He tentatively opened the living room door to find the room dark, lit only by a random assortment of candles scattered around the room. Esme and Edward popped out from behind the settee at the same time, socks pulled over their hands. “Suprise!” They shouted in unison. 

He glanced around the room, strips of scrap fabric hung from the ceiling, Esme and Edward were both wearing paper cone hats, and tiny pieces of colored paper were strewn on the floor. 

“Yes, it certainly is,” he said, attempting a smile. ‘Edward, pray tell is this her new design style?’  

“It’s your birthday party,” Edward explained with a lopsided grin. The socks on his hands, which Carlisle now realized were puppets, nodded along.

His birthday party. They had thrown him a surprise birthday party. They found him worth celebrating. 

Esme’s gaze hadn’t left Carlisle’s face, anxiously waiting for his reaction or any reaction. It was not lost on him they had made a nice gesture and he responded with nothing. 

‘It’s not my birthday.’ 

“It was, but someone had to be almost three days late,” Edward said in a tone that sounded chiding but Carlisle knew he was joking by the hints of a signature smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Edward, be nice,” Esme chastised lovingly, although there was a note of that telltale anxiety in her voice. The relic of a life being told nothing she did was ever good enough. 

“No. He walks in here fifty hours late and complains about his surprise party because it’s ‘not his birthday.’” Edward grumbled, imitating Carlisle with an accent he had never had. “In fact, I think this party is over,” he huffed, standing up, giving Esme a kiss on the cheek, stomping past his piano, stopping for a brief second to bang out some notes, off pitch, at an irritating speed, ripping the handwritten sheet music off the piano and shoving it to Carlisle’s chest. “Happy birthday, you ungrateful bastard,” he said, a smile appeared for a brief moment before he managed to fake a frown. 

“Thank you,” Carlisle said, catching Edward’s hand. “I apologize I was late. I appreciate the party.” 

“I suppose it’s fine,” he sighed, eyes rolling, but a grin on his face. Carlisle returned the smile in full. “I really do have to go to school, though.” 

“Drive safe,” Esme said as Edward grabbed his bag off the hallway coat rack. 

“Never,” Edward laughed, already in the carport and starting the engine. 

Carlisle and Esme waited in silence until the purr of the engine could no longer be heard in the crisp morning breeze. Carlisle now had the time to fully take in the homemade decorations donning the room. He had missed the meticulously painted flowers taped to the walls and ceiling, in the same artistic style were different medical tools, his favorite books, and little doodles of snippets of his life. 

“I’ll clean this up,” Esme said quietly, breaking his focus. He glanced over to see her taking the sock puppets off her hands and the hat off her head. 

“Why?” 

“It was a stupid idea. Don’t worry I’ll take care of this,” she motioned to the decorations which must have taken hours. 

“You know,” he said, walking across the room to where she was knelled behind the settee sweeping up confetti. “I’ve never been to a birthday party but I believe they’re supposed to last longer than three minutes. I feel somewhat robbed.” 

“You’re not mad?” 

“No, not at all. Surprised is all.” 

“Well it is a surprise party,” Esme shrugged.  

“A successful one then,” he smiled taking a seat on the floor across from her. “It was your idea?” 

“Somewhat. Edward had noticed you were dreading your birthday, and we figured we might try to make the day…happier for you. I suggested a party, I suppose that was foolish.” 

“Not at all, Bunny,” Carlisle said, brushing the hair off her forehead. “The socks?” He asked, attempting to prove he was interested in her party, which he was. 

“They’re your guests,” she said excitedly. “We made puppets of your friends. This is Aro,” she held up a white sock she had attached long black yarn to the top of to act as hair, “and Siobhan, and Garrett, and Tanya. Of course, you have more friends but we only had four hands so some cuts needed to be made.” 

“I love it,” Carlisle laughed, holding up the Garrett puppet which bore a striking resemblance despite being a sock. “I love this all,” he motioned around the room. He picked up the discarded cone hat and placed it atop his head. “What now?” 

“Cake?” Esme asked, already heading towards the kitchen. There was no question in his mind he would choke down a piece of cake if it meant that smile stayed on her face. 

She reappeared holding a wooden box that had been painted like a cake. A lit tea candle balancing on the top. 

“Blow out the candle,” she said, holding the ‘cake’ in front of him. “Wait you have to make a wish.” 

“Oh, I wish for –” 

“No! In your head. You can’t tell anyone or it won’t come true,” she said passionately. 

“Apologies,” Carlisle said, attempting to match her sincerity but unable to hide his smile. It was difficult to fathom a wish when all his seemed to have been answered. 

“What did you wish for?” Esme asked the moment the flame was extinguished. 

“I wi—” 

“I just told you,” she sighed, placing the ‘cake’ on the ground. “You can’t tell anyone or it won’t come true.” 

“But you asked.” 

“I was testing you,” Esme said as if it was totally reasonable and clear as day. “And you failed.” 

“Will you ever forgive me?” He asked, tugging lightly at her arm to pull her down to where he was seated on the floor. 

“I suppose, you’re quite cute,” she laughed, letting him pull her into his lap. His arms wrapped around her waist, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. 

“What do you say we leave this party early, Mrs. Cullen?” He whispered, pressing a kiss over the raised scars on her neck he had left a little over a year before.  

“You’re not having fun?” She asked, stiffening slightly in his arms.  

“On the contrary, I’m proposing we continue the fun,” he said, hands running up and down her back, a finger tracing her spine. “Unless you had other party activities planned?” 

“What kind of hostess would that make me? Sneaking off for a scandalous tawdry affair in the middle of a party,” Esme gasped, feigning objection although her hands were working swiftly to undo his necktie and top three buttons. 

“It’s not scandalous if it’s your husband.” 

She didn’t answer with another cunning remark but her lips spoke for themselves against his, hands working to untuck his shirt, and then undo his belt. 

“We don’t have to,” Carlisle said, pulling back. He had heard less than polite conversations in hospital break rooms about what wives felt compelled to do for birthdays, he wasn’t one of those husbands. 

“I want to.” 

It was a dance they were still learning the moves to but had yet to be anything but exhilarating. 

“Could we maybe… move the puppets?” Carlisle asked as he let Esme pull him down, multicolored confetti now stuck in caramel locks, her head inches away from puppets which felt suddenly alive. 

Esme glanced up to the sock puppets lying in a pile to the left of her head. A grin spread across her face as she moved the puppets. 

Less than a minute later Carlisle’s attention was interrupted by a humming of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” He looked up to find she had donned a sock puppet on either hand and was now singing at a more than inopportune moment. 

His laughter shook his entire frame, filling the entire room, he collapsed on top of her, and her own giggles followed soon after. They laughed for what seemed like hours, it didn’t matter how long it had been in reality, Carlisle’s birthday wish had been answered. 

A true moment of unadulterated, intoxicating happiness.

credit where credit is due! shoutout to @youareonlyastory for thinking of & requesting this & credit to @gisellelx for Carlisle's birthday being February 17 headcanon because him not knowing the date is absolutely ridiculous.

[needahugfromesme]

can you recommend some of your fave carlesme fics? it can be from ao3 or ffn hehe thank you 🫶

Hi! Sorry, it's been six or seven years since I fanatically read a lot of fanfic from ao3 or ffn. My time on Tumblr fandom has been spent reading beautifully written, sexy, touching, poetic oneshots by these Tumblr bloggers @fiddlesolo@stregoni-benefici @youareonlyastory @carllisle @spanishinfluenza

These are the fanfics from ao3 and ffn that I can think of right now.

Mackenzie L- the legend of Carlesme fandom. She has many wonderful oneshots besides Stained Glass Souls and Behind Stained Glass

@jessicanjpa- the expert of the Cullens. You can find brilliant stories about carlesme interacting with other family members. I LOOOOOVE her Esme and Edward fanfics!

@palmofafreezinghand- Funny dialogues, detailed and fascinating inner monologue...I can't decide which one of her fanfic is my favourite.

@gisellelx-I love her! for the way her words make me cry my eyes out, break my heart and then magically mended it and warmed it.

If anyone also writes carlesme's fanfics or would like to recommend some pls do!

[jessicanjpa]

@spanishinfluenza as if you could leave this in the tags

Keeping Up with the Cullens - BD Episode 3, pt 2.

*In my head Bella has not called Rosalie and asked for help yet in this episode. That's coming next!

[bisexualemmettcullen]

@spanishinfluenza

ok i was thinking about this again (i apologize in advance)

so if its canon that saliva, tears, etc is replaced with venom in vampires, why did Bella not change when she kissed/ made out with Edward??? Does the venom have to go directly into their blood stream or would the venom not get absorbed into her blood anyway through her stomach lining???

[meluisart]

Oh you done it now bitch. Rose would look SO GOOD in Cherry Soda just sayin

Rosalie's at that age when a woman has only one thing on her mind. Homicide.

[devonrubinart]

the love i am receiving on this....really fuels me. holy shit ty @spanishinfluenza also Great Name

just gonna start uploading some old art, i love these dumb drawings i did of this dumb movie. i am still very much considering doing a "What would Twilight look like as an adult animated series" project

[carllisle]

Do i have time to be on tumblr rn? No. "This is going to hurt." for Carlesme? 😛

send me a writing prompt!

(except you, get ur ass to whatever needs doing)

They left before dawn. They each took with them a suitcase of belongings, and the rest would be shipped in the next week. Carlisle carried a photo album with him in his bag, along with IDs, credit cards, cash, passports. Esme drove. They followed Edward's Volvo east, Jasper and Emmett behind them in the Jeep, and Rosalie and Alice pulling up the rear in the BMW. If any of them spoke, it was too quietly for the other cars to hear.

Carlisle opened the photo album. Whenever some of the family went away without others for a long period of time, they took photos to send home. This one was when their children had gone to the Amazon in the 50s. It wasn't long after Alice and Jasper joined them, and the others wanted to show them the wonder if the world in a way the pair hadn't seen before. Esme had asked Alice to capture what she saw and to come home and show her.

In most of the photos, they were all smiling. Emmett hanging from a huge branch like a monkey; Edward proudly holding up the caiman he had caught for dinner; Rosalie crouching like a cat and laughing. They all looked so happy. Carlisle touched a photo of Edward smiling. He missed his boy.

Esme saw Carlisle looking over the pictures and she rested her hand on his thigh. "It'll be alright," she murmured.

He sighed. "I hope so."

"He'll come back to us."

Leaning his head back on the rest, Carlisle looked at his wife. "How long will it take?"

"I don't know. But he came back last time."

"Last time was different."

She squeezed his thigh. "It was. But he'll come back."

Covering her hand with his own, Carlisle thanked God for bringing Esme to him. She soothed every wound. "This is going to hurt."

Esme turned her hand over on his leg to lace their fingers together, and she stroked the back of his with her thumb. "It already does. I'm trying not to, but all I can think of is her. She's going to be devastated."

"Mm. So do I. I can't imagine how she'll feel. I don't know what I'd do if one day you were gone without a trace. God, Es, I can't-"

With a tender touch, she brought their hands up and kissed his fingers. "Shh. That's not going to happen."

"It has for her."

The sky was turning an orange that heralded the sun. It lit up their faces, and Carlisle watched as Esme's skin shone like shattered glass. Her eyes were on the road. They could still see the taillights of their son speeding down the freeway. In the rear view, Emmett and Jasper looked solemn. Beyond, there was no sound of Alice's laughter, of Rosalie's wit. They were in silence.

Edward put more of a distance between them as the day went on. There was no silence for him.

[youareonlyastory]

Pina colada song; 🎵 If you like making love at midnight 🎵

Esme Cullen, at midnight, watching her surgeon husband leave their home to saves lives while she’s dressed up in elaborate lingerie with her arms folded over her fabulously gigantic titties; 😡 Hmpf

[therealvinelle]

hey bestie, loving the Cullens' fursonas chat its really helping me to sleep at night. does Carlisle squeeze the rats he eats like a frube? Or is it more like nutrigrain bar kinda vibes? Anyway id like to petition to make Esme's fursona a fox, thanks

I commend you your courage for not sending that on anon. I would have.

Also, god, I regret ever saying anything.

When it comes to how one would go about draining a rat's lifeblood, I don't know, really don't want to research for this one. What would I even google?

I imagine on a general basis that Carlisle kills his animals on impact, then drains them. It makes no difference to him in terms of flavor or nutrition whether the animal is alive or dead, and he's the furthest thing from a sadist.

And this is a bit of a cop out answer, but I'm honestly not too clear on what fursonas, or furries for that matter... are. What do they do? How do they choose their token animal? Do they all have one? Is it a sex thing or an aesthetic thing or a "no, no, I'm literally a wolf. Rawr. I scavenge for carcasses, berries, garbage, 's all good. I sleep under the open sky and when someone tries to approach me I bound towards them on all fours and snap at their throats. I think I may have rabies. I definitely have fleas." thing? Desperately not wanting to know.

Point being, I guess if Esme put on a fox costume she'd be a fox.