charlieswan-squad

[charlieswan-squad]

⋆·˚ ༘ * EDWARD CULLEN HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 hearing his voice for the first time

the first time edward meets you, he nearly loses control. your scent is intoxicating, overwhelming—his bloodsinger. sitting quietly with a book in hand, completely unaware of his turmoil.

the first thing he noticed wasn’t your heartbeat or the pull of your blood—it was the way you looked at the world, patient and observant, your fingers subtly brushing against objects to ground yourself. and when he finally caught your gaze, there was no fear, no wariness… just quiet curiosity.

he notices how you don’t react when someone calls your name from behind. the way your eyes flicker to people’s lips when they speak. the small, discreet hearing aids tucked behind your ears.

it changes everything. his instinct is to stay far, far away, but the moment you turn and meet his gaze—curious, a little cautious—he knows he’s already lost.

edward doesn’t approach you right away. instead, he observes. he notices the way you read people’s lips, how you sometimes struggle in group conversations, how you seem to appreciate kindness in people more than anything. he memorizes the way you sign things absentmindedly with your fingers, even when you’re thinking.

edward, being edward, immediately begins researching everything he can. he learns about different types of hearing loss, ASL, and ways to communicate better with you. it frustrates him that he can hear everything—heartbeats, whispers from miles away—but you can’t hear him.

when he finally does approach, he’s so gentle about it. he speaks slower, makes sure you’re looking at him before he starts talking, and sometimes even writes things down if the environment is too loud.

you notice quickly how he’s different from other people. he never grows impatient when you ask him to repeat something, never looks frustrated when you misunderstand. instead, he watches you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“may i sit here?” he asks one day in the cafeteria, waiting until you make eye contact before speaking. his voice is smooth, careful. when you nod, he smiles—small, hesitant, but real.

the protectiveness comes almost immediately. edward can’t help himself. when you’re walking together, he places himself on the side closest to the road. if it’s too noisy somewhere and you’re struggling to hear, he subtly guides you somewhere quieter. if someone gets frustrated with repeating themselves, he shoots them a cold, piercing glare that shuts them up instantly.

at first, you think he’s just a polite classmate, but then you start noticing how attentive he is. how he always makes sure to face you when speaking, how he instinctively positions himself between you and anything remotely dangerous.

“you don’t have to do all that,” you tell him one day, amused.

edward just smiles. “i don’t have to. but i want to.”

the first time you’re nearly hit by a car because you didn’t hear it coming, ddward moves so fast it’s a blur. he grips your shoulders, eyes frantic. “are you alright?” he demands, scanning you over. his hands shake slightly as he exhales. “i—i should’ve been paying more attention.”

he tries to keep his distance at first—he’s still a vampire, and you’re still his bloodsinger—but he can’t stay away. you’re his person. you’re everything. it takes time, but eventually, edward confesses that he’s drawn to you in a way he can’t explain.

falling for edward cullen is a slow, inevitable thing—like the way autumn turns to winter, creeping in so gradually that you don’t even notice until you’re already deep in it.

at first, he’s just… there. always lingering at the edge of your awareness, golden eyes watching you with a quiet intensity.

he isn’t like other people. he never sighs in frustration when you ask him to repeat something, never gets impatient when you don’t catch something right away. instead, he leans in just a little closer, his voice softer but still clear.

“did you catch that?” he asks one afternoon when you’re working on a class project together, his voice low and warm. when you shake your head, he doesn’t hesitate—just grabs your notebook and writes it down neatly before sliding it toward you with a small smile.

he’s careful with you, but not in a way that makes you feel fragile—just… considered. like you’re important.

you don’t realize when your heart starts speeding up every time he’s near. when his presence shifts from a casual comfort to something that makes your pulse quicken.

the small touches become impossible to ignore—his cold fingers brushing against yours when he hands you a book, the way he always places his hand lightly on your back when guiding you through a crowded hallway.

there’s a moment—just a brief, fleeting moment—where you catch him staring. not just watching, but staring, like you’re something fragile and breathtaking all at once. when your eyes meet, he looks away so fast it’s almost like it never happened.

“edward,” you murmur one evening, testing his name on your lips. you can’t even hear how it truly sounds, but it feels… right. like something meant to be spoken softly.

he freezes at that, something flickering in his golden eyes. “say that again,” he murmurs, so quietly you barely catch it.

you repeat it, a little softer this time, and something shifts between you. a slow, quiet understanding.

the moment you know—truly know—you’re in love with him is when you get caught in the rain after school, your hearing aids damp and making it hard to catch anything. frustrated, you pull them out, feeling suddenly cut off from the world.

and then edward is there, stepping in front of you, his hands coming up to gently cup your face. his lips move, and for a moment, you feel lost—until he takes your hand and carefully signs, are you okay?

you stare at him, stunned. “you learned?”

his expression softens. “of course i did.”

and that’s it. that’s the moment you realize you love him—because you’ve never felt more understood in your entire life.

the confession doesn’t happen in words. one evening, after weeks of stolen glances and lingering touches, edward hesitantly reaches for your hand. you let him, fingers curling around his, and he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for eternity. that’s all he needs.

you get used to his presence—his cold hands threading through yours, his quiet laughter, the way he always makes sure you understand everything in a conversation before moving on. he learns sign language just for you, surprising you one day with a softly signed, “i love you.”

when you finally get together, he’s soft with you in ways that shock even himself. he learns ASL fluently, even though you mainly read lips, just to communicate better. he writes you notes when you’re tired of reading speech. he lets you rest against him as he hums, even if you can’t hear it—he likes the way you feel the vibrations against his chest.

you and edward are sitting together in his room, the rain pattering softly against the window. he’s been playing the piano, his fingers moving fluidly across the keys, the melody slow and thoughtful. you can’t hear it, not fully—not the way others can—but you can feel it, the way the vibrations hum in the air, the way his eyes soften when he plays.

“i wish i could hear it,” you murmur absentmindedly, watching the way his hands move. “not just the way i do now, but… really hear it.— it must sound so beautiful.”

edward’s hands still instantly, the last note lingering in the air. when you look up at him, his expression is unreadable—his golden eyes locked onto you with something deep, something intense.

“i wish i could hear you,” you continue softly, staring down at your hands. “your voice. what you really sound like. i try to imagine it, but… i don’t know if i ever get it right.”

there’s a long silence, and then—so gentle you almost don’t notice—edward reaches for your hand, his cold fingers threading through yours.

“you will,” he says, voice quiet but certain. “i promise.”

you shake your head with a small, sad laugh. “that’s not really how it works, edward.”

but he just watches you, something unreadable in his expression. “we’ll see.”

after that night, edward becomes obsessed with the idea of making it happen.

he spends hours researching, combing through medical studies, looking into every possible advancement in hearing technology. he talks to carlisle, who listens patiently before carefully offering solutions.

when edward comes to you, there’s something almost hesitant in his expression—like he doesn’t want to get your hopes up too soon.

“carlisle thinks it’s possible,” he tells you, voice careful, measured. “a cochlear implant.”

you blink at him, stunned. “you… you really looked into it?”

“of course i did.” his voice is so fierce in that moment, like it was never even a question. “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do to make you happy…” his fingers tighten around yours. “i want you to be happy.”

he doesn’t want you to feel pressured to change anything about yourself. he loves you exactly as you are, but he knows how much this means to you.

your breath catches.

the idea is overwhelming. terrifying, even. but the thought of hearing edward—of really hearing him—makes your chest tighten in a way you can’t describe.

when you express interest, his support is unwavering. he’s there for every appointment, every discussion, making sure you feel safe.

the day of the surgery, edward never leaves your side. his cold fingers stay wrapped around yours, his golden eyes impossibly soft as he murmurs, “you’re going to be incredible.”

and when the implant is finally activated—when the first sound comes through—there’s a voice. smooth, rich, careful.

“y/n?”

your heart stops.

because you know that voice. you’ve felt it in the way his words have always wrapped around you, in the way his lips have shaped every whispered thought.

you turn, and edward is watching you with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. his voice—it’s beautiful.

“edward,” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes. his name has never sounded so clear before.

his expression crumbles into something raw, something aching. his cold hands cradle your face, his forehead pressing against yours.

he exhales sharply, a mix of relief and love washing over his features. then he pulls you into his arms, holding you close, murmuring, “i love you. i love you so much.”

and for the first time, you hear every single word.

the first few days after the surgery are hard. your head aches, your body feels exhausted, and adjusting to the implant is overwhelming in a way you hadn’t fully expected. sounds that were once muted or nonexistent are now everywhere—the rustling of fabric, the ticking of a clock, the way rain patters against the window.

edward is always there. he stays by your side, careful and patient, watching you with endless tenderness.

“are you in pain?” he asks softly, cold fingers brushing against your temple. his voice is soothing, deliberate—always giving you time to process, to catch up.

you nod, eyes squeezing shut. “just a headache.”

you feel the bed shift as he moves, and then suddenly, the coolness of his hand is pressing lightly against your forehead, his touch careful. the relief is instant.

“better?” he murmurs.

you sigh, leaning into him. better.”

the first time you get overstimulated, it’s unexpected. you’re sitting in the living room, trying to adjust to the sheer amount of noise around you—the way every little thing now has a sound. the hum of the refrigerator. the distant murmur of voices outside. the gentle tap of edward’s fingers against the table.

it’s too much.

your breathing quickens, panic rising in your chest.

“hey, hey.” suddenly, edward is kneeling in front of you, his golden eyes full of concern. “it’s okay. breathe.”

you shake your head, gripping your temples. “it’s—it’s so much. i can’t—”

he doesn’t hesitate. with infinite gentleness, he reaches up and carefully cups your face, making sure you’re looking at him. “close your eyes,” he murmurs. “just for a moment.”

you do.

“breathe with me,” he says, his voice steady, grounding. he inhales deeply, slowly, and you follow suit, letting the tension ease from your shoulders.

when you open your eyes again, he’s still there, still watching you—soft and patient, like he has all the time in the world.

“it’s going to get easier,” he promises, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you don’t have to rush. i’m with you.”

the first time you fall asleep to the sound of his voice, it happens without you even realizing.

you’ve had a long day of adjusting, your brain exhausted from the new sensory input. edward is lying beside you, reading softly from one of his favorite books, his voice smooth and quiet.

“you should rest,” he murmurs after a while, glancing down at you.

you hum sleepily. “m’listening…”

he huffs a quiet laugh, something amused and fond. “of course you are.”

but then his voice lowers even more, softer, more intimate. he continues reading, the words flowing effortlessly, and before you know it, your eyelids are growing heavier.

just before sleep claims you, you feel him shift—his lips brushing so lightly against your forehead.

“sleep well, my love,” he whispers.

and for the first time, you hear those words as you drift off.

[charlieswan-squad]

a fun little game that bella and edward play is "try to find a song that my 100+ year old music buff boyfriend with perfect recall doesn't know". not only has edward had decades of loneliness way too much free time that he's filled with music, but whenever anyone listens to music in range of his telepathy he hears it through them. he's got so much music in his head

bella starts to hum a tune and sees how long it takes for edward to join in. any genre, any period. the longest she's stumped him is like 3 seconds. she's even tried to make up a song on the spot a few times to stump him, but he's had a song to match. it's almost annoying. almost. mostly it's cute. she glares at him because she "lost" but then smiles and squeezes his hand, every single time

edward loves it because as time goes on it eases bella's shyness and she starts to sing instead of hum every so often. it's soft and quiet and only in private but depending on the song he can even persuade her to keep singing with him. they do a sweet little rendition of "got it together" by lee hazelwood & nancy sinatra.

luckily she never, ever has to deal with the annoyance of having a song on the tip of her tongue because she's basically dating the shazam app

[charlieswan-squad]

favorite book quotes :

“He was sanguine enough about Bella’s case to beg Carlisle to look in on a few of his as yet undiagnosed patients, declaring to his interns that they would never see a better diagnostician than Dr. Cullen. And Carlisle was confident enough in her condition that he agreed to go help others. But this wasn’t life or death for either of them the way it was for me. That was my life on the gurney. My life, pale and unresponsive, covered in tubes and tape and plaster. I kept myself together as best I could.”

- midnight sun (2020) by stephenie meyer

[charlieswan-squad]

Whenever Bella left the Forks area code she got into so much avoidable nonsense

[charlieswan-squad]

Y’all think Charlie Swan ever invited Carlisle Cullen over to watch the Mariners play and since Carlisle (and his family) love baseball soooo much he went all out and came over in a jersey and a platter of buffalo wings and was just so excited to watch the game with someone, and it’s made even better by the fact it’s a human who invited him over, a human who wanted to spend this time with him bc he’s always a little worried that he’s the monster his father always warned him about

[charlieswan-squad]

every time i remember edward thinks of bella like a soap bubble i get stuck on how much restraint he must have - not only not to kill her, but not to touch her as a boy in love, as a 17 year old experiencing love for the first time. he can’t be clumsy or fumble with his fingers for fear he’ll break her. imagine loving something you can only lightly hover over? to want to hold their hand and have to remind yourself one wrong move and you hurt the very reason you feel alive? and thinking all along you only have a finite amount of time make every moment feel like goodbye will never arrive.

[charlieswan-squad]

yeah alice is the favorite sister, the favorite cullen to everyone who meets her, to her brothers, to bella especially— but rosalie is carlisle’s favorite daughter. and I don’t want to hear anything else

[charlieswan-squad]

twilight au where edward gets cornered by the drama teacher and forced to be in a musical

- it’s like a total pitch perfect situation bc to keep up appearances Edward occasionally pretends to go to the bathroom

- he’s figured out that the appropriate duration of a bathroom break is like the length of one and a half songs so he just goes and sings to himself alone in the bathroom to keep to time

- but one day the theater arts director comes in and boy does he need a lead to star in the spring musical and boy oh boy does he need them to be good bc this musical is gonna keep the school board from hashing the fine arts budget

- so when he finds Eddie singing to himself in the bathroom he doesn’t ask any questions just corners him

- it might technically count as harassment but Edward is so startled that he agrees

- the musical itself doesn’t matter too much. maybe it’s a Shakespeare parody, maybe it’s Oklahoma, maybe it’s the Wizard of Oz maybe it’s some basterdizarion of all of the above

- what matters is that Edward actually enjoys himself for once and that Emmett makes all the drama nerd jokes and Carlisle and Esme are Proud Parents™️

- esme comes to the preformance with a camcorder and everything

- Bella buys him a bouquet

- Edward is legally bound to partake in every other Forks Drama Production for the next two years according to Mr. Drama Theatre Arts Director Teacher and yknow what that’s fine

- what’s not fine is when Edward accidentally gets scouted to Juilliard

[charlieswan-squad]

you're in her dms i'm in her therapist's notes as a "potential issue" we are not the same

[charlieswan-squad]

twilight but bella’s truck has this sticker on it

[charlieswan-squad]

To the girl in the movie theater bathroom who was explaining to everyone that the timeline works out for every single Robert Pattinson role to be Edward Cullen, you own the world. Please take over Hollywood.

[charlieswan-squad]

if i wrote twilight there'd be a kid in edward's class who Zones The Fuck Out and daydreams about a story they want to write, and edward would just tune in to watch like a tv show when he's bored in class and he gets genuinely invested and eventually he's like "i know EXACTLY how they can fix this plot hole that's bothering them but how can i tell them that when they don't KNOW i'm their first beta reader"

[charlieswan-squad]

Something I didn't notice before, and that I'm enjoying about Midnight Sun, is that Bella really does bring out an appreciation for humanity in Edward. At the beginning of the story, he tunes everybody out and assumes that all of their thoughts and discussions are trivial and petty, but the second Bella comes into his life and he begins to pay more attention, this all changes. Sure, he doesn't like everything Mike and Jessica think, but his jealously towards Mike, as well as the new perspective he gains from Jessica's curiosity, bring him into the teenage experience again. Then, he begins to read Angela and Ben, and he realizes that they're good people with kind hearts, people who deserve love and happy endings. He even becomes a part of their story and wraps Emmett into a little teenage drama(which they both admit was fun). It's so cute, because while Edward is fighting with "the monster" inside of him, he doesn't realize that Bella is making him more and more human everyday :')

[charlieswan-squad]

we deserved to see Bella teaching Edward how to cook. just because he wanted to learn to take care of her in a human way. Bella eyeballs every measurement and cooks a lot of things from memory, but Edward has to follow the recipe exactly. she gets him to open all the jars that are stuck shut. he hugs her from behind and watches over her shoulder while she works. ugh. they deserved more happy domestic moments.

[charlieswan-squad]

What if vampires could cry, but their tears were venom-based like all their other bodily fluids?

What if Eddie boy accidentally burned Bella with his tears?

I think he would see that as a metaphor for their relationship or some shit.

okay so before i begin: i am sitting here in awe.

this is so beautiful.

Vampires can cry and their tears are venom- which means that their tears scar their skin.

It's seen as a sign of weakness to have tear scars as a vampire, but Edward's face is scarred from all his tears

he's incredibly self-conscious of his scars

Carlisle has tear scars down his chest from Edward crying after being turned

Rosalie has one singular tear scar down her cheek from after she was turned and remember what had happened to her

Esme has tear scars all over her hands and fingers from drying Edwards tears over the years

if Edward cried on Bella

it would be after she was attacked by James, sitting in the hospital

he leans over to kiss her forehead and a single tear falls onto her and it scars

he cries on her again after she rescues him at the end of new moon

he is so happy to see her that he cries and notices that it burns her as the tears touch her

that's how he knows he isn't dreaming when she runs into his arms

[charlieswan-squad]

Local barnes and noble romance book table graphic

[charlieswan-squad]

I think about that scene in the ballet studio a lot... how spicy would it have been if Carlisle had used his own belt for the tourniquet 👀💅