#⩩ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀( ✿ rosalie ⦙ edits / extras )

[firsthchvrming]

ROSALIE WHITE CHARMING - FASHION STYLE

Inspos de estilo: old money, preppy

     Rosalie observa bastante os estilos non-maj, porque acredita que eles tem bastante potencial e também porque os acha incrivelmente bonitos. Desta maneira, é bem possível vê-la com esse estilo extremamente feminino pelos corredores da Academia e fora dela também.

[panlight]

SM on trait vs power, from the Lexicon

Q. Okay, this wasn’t a question, but an observation: And I really kind of hope Bella doesn’t just get a personality trait enhanced or whatever. I think that’s sort of… I don’t know, weird. Rosalie brought her ‘tenacity’, which I think seems to be sort of a suckish gift to bring into your, um, vampire life. Or the ‘capacity to love’. That was Esme, right? Hmmm… can’t remember. But I’d much rather have like Alice or Edward’s ability.

A. Yes, there is a big difference in the potency (for lack of a better word) of the qualities that vampires bring into this second life. There seems to be some confusion about this from some of the things I’ve read. I’ll try to explain it coherently, but I’m a little punch drunk from the editing, so bear with me: Okay, there are levels. Some vampires just have their personalities intensified. Esme is very loving and motherly–she becomes more so. Some vampires are unique in that they had slightly elevated abilities when they were human. Like Edward, who was always very sensitive to what other people were thinking without realizing it. Or Jasper, who was really charismatic, and could always talk people into seeing his side of things. When someone "special" like that gets turned into a vampire, that personality trait takes on a new strength, becoming more like a superpower than a trait. Some peoples’ strongest characteristics are physical rather than mental–like Emmett and his physical strength. And Rosalie with her beauty. ("AH HA!!" you are all saying. "But you said that Rosalie’s strongest trait was tenacity in the book!" To which I say, "Sometimes Edward lies." He had a reason–that will be in his version of the story.) Emmett and Rosalie are perfect for each other because they are both such physical people. But some characteristics skirt the line between "strong trait" and "superpower." Carlisle’s compassion-motivated self-control is really so incredible that it almost crosses the line into "superpower."

Now, the number of vampires with extra-special abilities (who were "special" when they were human) is disproportionately large (there is a bigger percentage of "special vampires" amongst ALL vampires than there are "special humans" as a percentage of ALL humans). There’s a reason for that, too. When vampires are choosing companions, they are drawn to the most special and beautiful of humans. (source)

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

@ckfemslashnetwork

COBRA KAI SAPPHIC SUMMER WEEK 1 HEATWAVE

***

I don’t want no drama But I know you’re looking at me Got the body of Madonna Like a virgin, make it sticky, sticky

Take me to nirvana Get me up out of this city And I know you got a woman So the situation’s sticky

Know you like what you see You look so damn good on me Like you’re good enough to eat Now you’re stuck in my teeth Got me picking out a ring Baby, I got an idea

Hey, I should be your next girlfriend And she should be your ex girlfriend Hey, you should be my next girlfriend La-la-la, ooh, mmm, la-la-la

Hey, I should be your next girlfriend And she should be your ex girlfriend Hey, you should be my next girlfriend La-la-la, ooh, mmm, la-la-la

California summer Like a popsicle, it’s dripping You’re an Arizona stunner Like a tea, I wanna sip it, sip it

Let me give you sugar You’re my spicy tuna, sticky, sticky Spicy like a rumor You’re my hallelujah, sticky

If you like what you see You look so damn good on me Like you’re good enough to eat, ah-ah

Now you’re stuck in my teeth Got me picking out a ring Baby, I got an idea

Hey, I should be your next girlfriend And she should be your ex girlfriend Hey, you should be my next girlfriend La-la-la, ooh, mmm, la-la-la

Hey, I should be your next girlfriend And she should be your ex girlfriend Hey, you should be my next girlfriend

***

AKSDJNHKUYFGDRKY YES ONE LAST MINUTE SUBMISSION BEFORE THE EVENT IS OVER I KNOW I'M CUTTING IT CLOSE

So this was actually the first fic I started writing specifically for this event, and then I didn't get anywhere near how much I wanted of the preview done by the end of the first week D: So I'm submitting what I have now! Still didn't get to what I was really hyped about (i.e. the spicy bits lmao), but oh well! Can't have time for everything, I guess. At least this post probably won't get filtered now?

So since this was the first fic I wrote for YasMoon in a while, it was absolutely the clunkiest when I went back to edit ^^; I had to spend way more time than I thought just cleaning the damn thing up and getting it on par with my later (and comparatively much better) fic snippets for the femslash event XD With that said, forgive me if it's still a little rough--I was kinda rushing to finish by the event ending D:

For anyone wondering about the ship tags--I know this is YasMoon-centric right now, but I promise MoonPiper will play a bigger role in the finished fic! Moon is dating Piper at the time this fic takes place, which is, ah...definitely going to complicate things. And also make Yasmine really salty. This girl is not one bit happy that she missed her chance like an idiot XD

BTW that top left pic of Yasmine giving Moon a once-over is the Screenshot of All Time. Girl is so ready to take her on the floor that instant. Like!!! Get it together, Yas!!! You are in public, babe!!!

Yasmine's older influencer sister Rosalie who lives in Big Bear makes an appearance here!!! I really love writing about her for some reason. Like I genuinely can't remember the last time I've been this jazzed about fleshing out a fandom OC, aside from some ship lovechildren I made ages ago XD But idk idk I just think she's neat!!! And I wanted to give Yas a family member she has a quasi-good relationship with, since I HC she has difficulties with homophobic parents.

CW for open-ish discussions of teen sexuality and some dirty innuendos.

***

“Thanks for coming out with me today.”

Yasmine watches Moon climb in the new Porche. Hair tied back, smile relaxed, patterned orange dress sweeping in a delicate cloud around tanned legs.

So much of her’s just the same. Impressive that a whole summer full of karate drama bullshit didn’t even bruise that carefree, easygoing spirit.

If anything, it strengthened. Perhaps out of spite, whether or not Moon was consciously aware of it.

Some parts have definitely shifted, though. There’s an iron resolve that’s grown under those thin shawls and short skirts. An extra coat of armor she’s sprouted, thanks to Hawk. Thanks to Yasmine.

Her stomach twists guiltily. It’s the kind of protection someone like Moon should never have to develop.

The world is a cruel place. Unfair, cutthroat, brutal to anyone who doesn’t fit the proper “mold.” Yasmine’s always known that.

She just never thought she’d be the one to teach it to Moon, with her friend’s wide-eyed naiveté and innocent hope that no one was that shitty a person—only misguided.

Yasmine knows she’s the exception to that rule.

“Are you okay?”

She blinks. Reclined in the passenger’s seat, Moon’s fixing her with the kind of concerned gaze she almost never deserves.

“Yeah.” It comes out sharper than she means. A habit she should probably work on. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You…were staring at me and idling the car. You’re kind of out of it. Should we stop for iced coffee?”

“Right.” Yasmine forces a smile. “Was just, ah…thinking about how I’m relieved we can hang out again. Don’t make fun of me for being a sappy bitch, but I missed you.”

Moon laughs—and oh god, she missed that too.

Not that she’ll ever admit it aloud, but it was horrendously stupid to think she could cut Moon off. To think she wouldn’t come crawling back, mesmerized like some idiot in a spy movie falling into the world’s most obvious honey trap.

Not that Moon would ever intentionally honeypot anyone. But she has a way of making you care too much, and not realizing it until it’s too late to save yourself.

“Same,” Moon says. “Actually really glad you’re not still mad at me.”

“Oh, no, I am. Incredibly lame of you to ditch me for a guy who looks like the main character of a budget Sonic the Hedgehog live action remake. But I guess I’ll let it slide this once.”

Moon bursts out snickering—the same way she always has when Yasmine’s bluntness catches her off-guard. There’s something comforting about the familiarity.

“Appreciated,” Moon says.

As they weave out of the hilly Encino neighborhood, Yasmine’s grip on the steering wheel loosens. She didn’t even realize she was squeezing.

“Although I’d be an idiot to turn down iced coffee,” she adds. “Maybe if we wait ‘til we get there, we can Instagram it.”

“Damn. If I knew you were in the mood, I would’ve made you some for the cooler.”

Yasmine winces.

It was a habit they’d fallen into their freshman year. Moon fiddled around with her parents’ coffee machine, using Yasmine as her guinea pig to test out various experimental lattes. Yasmine had tried just about every plant-based creamer under the sun now—and shockingly, even found a handful that didn’t taste like shit. It never failed to make her feel pampered and cared for, even if some of Moon’s combinations were a little…unconventional. (She’s pretty sure Moon spiked her oat milk hazelnut latte with hemp once.)

Something about Moon being so ready to pick the kind gesture back up—after everything—makes Yasmine feel like a horrible person all over again.

“It’s fine.” Her voice is tight. “My mom doesn’t give a shit if we get some food on the credit card. And those kinda covert promo posts get more likes, anyway.”

They turn onto the 405 entrance ramp, where 11 a.m. traffic is already moving as if the entire freeway is stuck in a swamp. Apparently they aren’t the only teenagers trying to get in one last beach trip before the school year.

Speaking of. Moon’s end-of-summer party is in a few days. Which Yasmine will have to miss because…reasons.

Or one reason, mainly. One sharp-eyed, curly-haired, leather-jacket-wearing, much-hotter-than-Yasmine reason.

Ugh.

Her concern isn’t her and Piper getting catty with each other—although she certainly wouldn’t rule it out. She’s much more worried about what’ll happen if she actually likes Piper.

Because Moon deserves someone kind and considerate who treats her well. And the past year or so, she’s had pretty shit luck with that.

And yet. Yasmine has a feeling Piper could be the best girlfriend to ever grace the planet, and the sight of her would still feel like a knife to the gut.

I’m sorry, I wish I could. Ros is having this influencer mixer thing in Big Bear and my parents will kill me if I don’t go.

She’s ironed out the excuse a thousand times, and it sounds plausible enough. Moon knows Yasmine’s parents are crazy, and obsessed with everything their precious Rosalie does.

Hopefully it’ll suffice to not further strain an already-frayed thread. A thread Yasmine’s trying to duct tape back together.

“It’s a shame Sam couldn’t make it,” Moon pipes up suddenly.

Yasmine freezes.

She’s not sure where she and Sam stand. If Yasmine had her way, they’d be done. She seriously doubts there wasn’t any truth to what Kyler told her and Moon.

Besides, Yasmine would bet good money Sam’ll throw her lot in with Aisha next year, now that Aisha’s everyone’s favorite fucking wedgie-giving bitch, apparently.

But Moon’s fond of Sam. Apparently, they rekindled their friendship while she was in France.

While Moon still didn’t know if she and Yasmine were going to patch things up. While she believed it was best to let Yasmine go and make things right with all the people her ex best friend hurt.

And Yasmine doesn’t think trying to get her way in the Sam matter will do much to help her hold onto the friend that, against all odds, she managed to get back.

“Yeah,” Yasmine lies. “A shame.”

“Guess she’s too busy with her new dojo boyfriend.”

Moon snickers again. Yasmine glances over, eyebrows raised.

“Her what now?”

“Didn’t you see her Instagram story? She and this guy she met through karate, they’re totally—wait.” Moon’s eyes widen as Yasmine frowns in confusion. “Did you unfollow her?!”

Yasmine’s eyes flick back to the road, chest turning in embarrassment. Before she can think of an excuse, Moon gasps in smug delight.

“Oh, you petty bitch.”

Yasmine huffs. “Look, her stupid ex-bestie embarrassed me in front of the entire school! Forgive me for thinking we weren’t really on following terms.”

Her friend only laughs, seemingly content not to rib any further. Another thing Yasmine’ll have to add to the list of neverending things she’s grateful to Moon for.

How annoying. She already owes Moon so much, and it’s only getting worse.

“Then I guess I’ll have to catch you up myself,” Moon says. “So when Sam started doing karate again, her dad was training this other guy, too. They hit it off, apparently. But she hasn’t told her dad they’re together yet because this kid’s also living with them because his home life is really bad so the LaRussos invited him to stay in their spare room so he could actually get regular meals—”

“Wait, wait.” Despite herself, Yasmine’s overcome with morbid curiosity. “Miyagi Do or whatever, right? Please tell me Sam’s new boytoy isn’t the same freakshow who tried to hit on me on my birthday. Donatello, or whatever the fuck you said his name was.”

Moon chuckles. “What, Demetri?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Yasmine makes a face. “The I-promise-I’m-not-a-stalker-I-just-watch-you-across-the-cafeteria guy. I’d honestly be shocked if he ever landed a girl.”

“Well, he does karate, too. Not like Miguel and Robby, though.” She lets out a dreamy sigh, gazing out the window. “I’ve gotta take you to the next AVT. So many hotties there.”

Yasmine might be sick.

“Right, yeah. Totally my dream to land some shrieking, possessive, testosterone-loaded freak who tattoos my name on him without me asking and then tries to use it to guilt me to stay with him after he beats people up over Yelp reviews. Husband material right there.”

Moon winces. Yasmine doesn’t hold back a smug grin.

The hopeful naiveté can be endearing, but Moon really should have known better than that one.

“They’re not all like that,” she mumbles.

“Come on.” Yasmine scoffs. “In what world would I want some gross, sweaty braindead maniac rubbing himself all over me and acting like I’m his pretty little bitch on a leash? Hard fucking pass.”

She’s thrown off by Moon’s dubious look.

“Didn’t you used to get Kyler to beat up anyone who got in your way?”

“Well, yeah, but that was different. It was a convenience thing—I didn’t get some disgusting girl hard-on because of it.”

The very thought makes her shudder. Boys are good for intimidation purposes, but their uses end there.

Yasmine shuffles her legs, stomach tightening. If…well, that was the rent she might have to eventually pay for guys like Kyler to do her bidding, then to hell with it—she’d do her dirty work herself.

***

“So Rosalie really got lost at the Cannes film festival.”

Moon’s body bends gracefully as she flaps the beach towel out behind her. The wind catches it perfectly, straightening it as she guides it to the ground.

Yasmine tracks her movements, insides aching. Gleaming, sun-kissed skin, perfectly curved body, silky chestnut hair…

She’s such a fucking tease. And from the way she’s deliberately taking her time squatting to put down the towel and stretching up again…

She damn well knows it.

Well, two can play at this game.

“Oh, yeah.” Yasmine sets their cooler down and strides over to her friend. “She knows some actor who was supposed to get us into this premier, but he got sidetracked schmoozing on the main walkway. Apparently Christopher Nolan was there, and—”

Moon begins to open their umbrella. Yasmine gently but firmly takes it away. “Here, let me.”

“Are you sure?” Moon looks worried. Cute. “It’s big, Yas. It’ll crush you.”

“Oh, please. I’m taller than you! Besides.” She fixes Moon with a conniving smirk. “You and Sam aren’t the only ones who get to feel up long, hard rods.”

As she slides her fingers across the umbrella handle, Moon giggles, scandalized. “I…didn’t know you liked that sort of thing.”

“See, umbrellas aren’t whiny, boring little shits who never shut up about how great their handle is, or cry when you tell them a different umbrella has a better handle.”

“Anyhow.” Yasmine slung the umbrella over one shoulder. “Ros’s actor friend vanishes, so she runs off to find him, right? In, y’know, that one slutty green gala gown she wears in all the party makeup tutorial livestreams. She got yanked into some side tent because they actually thought she was co-starring in the new JLo movie! Was like an hour before we found her.”

She saunters across the towel and plants the umbrella in the sand as she recounts the story. Moon’s eyes wander across her, as palpable a sensation as heat rays tracing her back in a tanning salon.

Yasmine smirks. Moon likes strong people? Girls in leather jackets and boys who dive into punching showdowns?

Hell, she can be strong, too. Just because she prefers others to do the work for her doesn’t mean she’s not capable.

She stands on her toes as she cranks the umbrella open, making a point to flex long, thin legs as she does it. She takes her time adjusting the thing, letting the sun catch a blinding gleam in her summery cyan manicure.

A breeze ruffles the skirt of Yasmine’s sundress, cool air brushing against her back legs. She makes no effort to stop this.

Maybe Moon will enjoy the view. Would do her some good to remember what she’s missing.

“You, um…you doing okay with that?”

Moon’s completely flustered. Yasmine’s so self-satisfied it could eat her up.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” she says airily. “Just a bit awkward. But if Kyler’s not gonna be around to lift shit for me, then I’m not about to wait around for someone else who will.”

“I mean, I could go bat my eyelashes at one of those surfer guys and get them to help us. Not like it would be hard.”

Yasmine shudders.

“What, and have to deal with him trying to menage-a-trois us all day? It’d cause more problems than it’d solve.”

She loosens her fingers—strategically enough that the umbrella tie toppling to the sand looks like an accident. As it hits the beach, she groans.

“Ugh. Damn thing.”

Yasmine slowly inches her feet apart, bending at the waist and making sure her…well, her back end is as noticeable as it will go without looking ridiculous.

Maybe it’s her imagination, but she swears Moon sucks in her breath.

Yasmine spends several seconds plodding through the sand, umbrella tie in full sight the entire time. When the search is convincing enough, she grabs the tie and quickly stands back up.

“Did you just use the Legally Blonde Bend-and-Snap on me?”

It’s Yasmine’s turn to blush.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on. The thing where you pretend to drop something so you can lean down and get it and show off your ass. I know you’re not that openly slutty unless you want someone to see.”

Yasmine stares at the umbrella, face probably making her look like she ditched the sunscreen today. She’s not about to let Moon see.

“Oh, don’t be so enamored with yourself! Not everything is about you.”

Moon snickers. “Yeah, but that sure was.”

“Ugh. You can’t prove that.”

“I may as well be able to. Your aura’s all full of it.”

Yasmine fingers the hem of her dress, growing more and more flustered.

Moon didn’t used to be this cheeky. Or this…bold. Learning to stand up for herself sure gave the girl a self-made remodel.

And it’s driving Yasmine absolutely insane.

She wants to scream. Wail. Pull her hair. Beat her fists in the sand.

Anything to fight off the effect this New Moon is having on her.

But to hell with it. She hasn’t pulled her last ace yet.

“So are we ready to hit the waves or what?” She takes a deep breath, finally turning back to Moon and gesturing toward the lapping ocean. “It’s hot as shit out, and I didn’t come here just to tan.”

“Sure. But let me grab a drink first.”

As Moon reaches into the cooler, Yasmine starts to peel off her hot pink sundress. She makes a point not to rush, wanting to savor her friend’s reaction.

Oh, she’ll love this.

When Moon turns around, she nearly chokes on her Arizona iced tea.

“You didn’t.”

Yasmine smirks. “I did.”

The other girl shakes her head, mouth tightening. “You really just—ugh.”

“What?” Yasmine bats her lashes, feigning innocence. “It’s a perfectly good bathing suit! What’s the problem?”

Moon groans, yanking off her own sundress in one frustrated motion. “Well, one of us is going to have to change!”

And for a moment all Yasmine can do is stare, taking in the tie-dyed blue, black, and white bikini identical to the one she’s sporting. Matched not for some giggly best friends stunt, but out of a sort of mutual pettiness that still lingered from that fateful night by the bonfire.

The next moment, she’s howling with laughter.

“Oh, you catty bitch. And here I was thinking you didn’t have a mean bone left in your body.”

Moon crosses her arms, glaring. “It was my bathing suit to begin with,” she says, tone snippy. “You were the one who copied my style!”

“Yeah, because I thought it’d be cute if we matched. And you thought so, too, until you went drooling after Spikehair McRage Issues. And now I’m ripping you off? Convenient.”

Her smirk widens as Moon splutters incoherently, arriving at some kind of logical dead end.

“Come on now.” Yasmine pushes her bottom lip out in a fake pout. “All our drama’s water under the bridge, isn’t it? It can be a quirky bestie thing again, you know.”

She knows damn well Moon’s annoyance goes deeper than having her outfit plagiarized. And she also knows that playing dumb as Moon gets more and more quietly exasperated is one of the funniest things she’s ever seen.

Yasmine’s willing to let bygones be bygones. But the Old Yasmine—the one with her heart still torn out from the only person who mattered to her abandoning her at a moment’s notice—can’t resist a few jabs here and there.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know why I’m upset.”

Yasmine blinks, taken aback.

So Moon’s directly voicing gripes regularly now. That wasn’t just a one-time thing.

It’s a little intimidating.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She keeps up the act, wondering how far she can get.

Moon takes a long swig of tea before speaking, as if to gather strength.

“When you posted those social media pics over the summer…you wore it as a dig at me, didn’t you?”

She opens her mouth, trying to think of a justification and coming up short.

“Not about to believe you ‘just felt like it’ or ‘just forgot.’” Moon snorts derisively. “I know blue tie-dye’s not your style. You only ever got one of those because I did, and you thought it’d be funny if we looked the same.”

Yasmine hesitates, a stone forming in her stomach.

Perhaps if Moon’s ditching her filter, then Yasmine doesn’t need one either. Perhaps brazenly voicing the unsaid with 0 reservations is their new normal.

Strange as that would be.

“I wanted to remind you what we were,” Yasmine admits quietly. “What we had, that you…decided you didn’t want anymore. And I guess also remind you that you could like…turn your back on me and do the ‘reform’ thing all you wanted, but that wouldn’t ever change the fact that you were my best friend. That there’s a lot about us that’s exactly the same, and you can’t pretend you didn’t go along with all the shitty stuff I did for a long-ass time.”

“But I stopped. I apologized to people. I tried to change.” Moon frowns. “Isn’t that what matters?”

“I’m not saying you’re not like…a way better person than me.” Yasmine smiles sadly. “I’ll admit that now. But you’re not some flawless saint. And you can’t just erase the person you were when you were with me.”

“I guess not. But I was never that happy when I felt like…like I was your obedient little pet or something.”

The words cut deeper than Yasmine expects.

“Is that—is that really how you think I saw you?”

Moon realizes she’s hit a nerve.

“I—I don’t know.” Some of the steel is gone from her voice, guilt poking through. “It felt like that sometimes. I know you cared about me, and you were working through a bunch of shit and couldn’t be super open about it. But you always made everything about you.”

And fuck—Yasmine can’t argue with that. She stares at the beach towel, shuffling her feet.

“And why did you wear it today?” Moon’s voice hardens. “To needle me again?”

Yasmine crosses her arms, finally looking up. “And why did you wear yours?”

Moon stops, caught at an impasse. Yasmine’s smirk returns.

“See? We’ve still got a thing or two in common.”

She saunters over, swaying her hips and shifting the tie-dye bikini back and forth.

“I knew there was some mean bitch left in you. Otherwise you’d never have agreed to hang out with me again, hmmmm?”

She smiles, and it’s every bit as smug and conniving as the mask Old Yasmine always hid behind. Moon inhales sharply, leaning back as Yasmine sweeps through more and more of her personal space. By the time her friend gets within inches of Moon’s face, she’s a tensed-up, flustered mess.

Interesting how her feet stay planted when it’d be easy to back up. Maybe that new assertiveness of hers is pressuring her to stand her ground. Or maybe…

“I think we’ve both been feeling a little petty about that whole mess on my birthday, haven’t we?” Yasmine murmurs the words against Moon’s lips, tantalizingly close. Their bodies are brushing now, electricity fizzing under Yasmine’s skin at every point of contact.

She’s burning to know if Moon will close the distance. Give into temptation and finish the job, like Yasmine knows she wants to.

Moon’s eyes start to shut, lips pursing. Yasmine’s smile widens, reaching out manicured cat claws and devouring the metaphorical canary.

In one quick motion she turns, sweeping one arm around Moon and using her other to pull out her phone and snap a selfie. Then she’s gone, stepping away to drop the photo on Instagram and type a caption.

“Twinsiessss!” she hums, reading it aloud. “Missed beach days with this girl. X x x x.”

Moon shakes her head, scoffing. You tease, her glare says.

Well. It’s only payback, isn’t it?

“We’re ridiculous,” she says, sighing. “This is one step away from those annoying ‘his’ and ‘hers’ t-shirts.”

The implication isn’t lost on Yasmine—and it’s all the proof she needs that Moon was one bad decision away from breaking Piper Elswith’s heart.

Is it wrong that she takes a fucked up sort of pride in it?

Shoving the quandary from her mind, Yasmine claps her hands. “Okay, enough of all that. Let’s go for a fucking swim.”

She crams her phone in their swim bag, haphazardly throwing a spare beach blanket over their belongings. Grabbing Moon’s wrist, she tugs them toward the sea.

It’s nice to hold her again. That tanned, lotioned-up skin never fails to feel perfect under Yasmine’s.

Moon laughs, expression coy. “Feels strange to be running around in our bikinis again. Brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

Yasmine’s face grows hot. It’s Moon’s turn to get her blushing, apparently.

“You remember the last time we did that?” Moon prompts. As though one rubbing around the sensitive spots of her memory wasn’t enough to trigger them.

“Oh, yeah.” She chuckles, and it’s a little bittersweet. “How could I forget?”

***

Random author's notes, in no particular order:

I realized that I put not one but two spy movie mentions in my recent YasMoon fics...so now I have a headcanon that her dad is super into James Bond and spy/thriller movies and that's how she's familiar with all the tropes! I like to think it's one of the few things they can still bond over and enjoy together, since I HC that Yasmine's relationship with her dad has gotten more and more strained over the years as she feels like she has to hide the fact she's a lesbian (and he's probably also out of the country a fair bit, if S4 is anything to go off of).

I actually find Yasmine and Sam's relationship so interesting??? Like Yasmine showed 0 guilt when she dropped her in S1 and readily sided with Kyler over her (in contrast to Moon, who looks guilty about cutting Sam off and seems upset by Kyler's public slut-shaming stunts). But then come S3, they're friends again??? I'm left to think they only really made nice because they both care about Moon and want to make her happy, because otherwise I don't think they'd have any reason to forgive each other. (Which kinda further proves my point about Yas being gay for Moon--"ugh I can't stand this shit-talking blowjob-giving bitch, but I'll be nice to her for you and you ONLY, babe!" Like Moon is really the only person who can keep Yasmine's bitchiness at all under control lmao. Even Demetri does a shit job of calling her out XD) And then by the time S5 rolls around, she and Sam seemed to have developed some genuine friendly affection for each other--which I think is kind of neat! The power of Moon's influence, amirite???

Yasmine's hapless lesbian ass really can't think of any better way of flirting than being like "oh nooooo!!! Kyaaaa!!! The wind went under my skirt!!! KYAAAA!!! I bent over to pick something up and you saw under my dress!!!" like a cringey anime girl. I would attest in a court of law that she is just THAT much of a disaster when it comes to openly and publicly flirting with girls. Like she hasn't the faintest idea what she's doing!!! She wants to get the point across but god forbid anyone notice she's gay!!! It needs to look accidental for plausible denial reasons, okay!!! Oh, the joys of writing a deeply closeted sapphic flailing her way through life <3

I just KNOW that Yasmine and Moon know Legally Blonde. Like how could they not??? The main character is a California valley girl XD Yasmine claims she watches it over and over because she loves Elle's aesthetic, but she secretly envies how smart Elle is and kind of wishes she could get a high-end kick-ass businessy job she could show up to in a bright pink suit. She also aspires to have a little purse dog, although she's partial to pomeranians and Japanese spitzes a little more than chihuahuas.

It's our lord's year 2023 and I am still saying the matching bikini bit from S2 was gay as fuck. Like Yasmine definitely knew what she was doing and she definitely wore that shit on purpose. And girl has enough basic fashion sense to not get an identical garment as her bestie unless she wants them to be matchy matchy. Y'know. Like a couples costume. Pretty damn fruity innit

Writing Yasmine as the most unapologetic lesbian tease is so funny. Like by god this girl WILL seduce women with everything she's got while wanting every dick on earth at least 400000000 feet away from her at all times. Iconic!

[therealvinelle]

During Edward's "you'll never understand" speech in Funny Thing, the anonymous author(s) point out that Riddle would be at least slightly more understanding if Edward had brought up children.

So I had a thought. What if Edward did? And what if Riddle, out of spite and after convincing his partners to agree, pulls a Hong Bellamy and magics up an infant?

Being that they didn't tell Eddie about the relationship for years, they probably don't notify the family til the deed is done and the little one (irony demands the child be named Harry) is born. Maybe even toddling around.

How does this fuck with the family dynamics? Does Edward bluescreen at the "miracle of life" being subverted by Riddle's hands? Rosalie best aunt?

(Extra kudos to the anonymous authors of Funny Thing, btw, I've reread it three times.)

Anon is referring to A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to London, a fic co-written by two at the time anonymous authors who turned out to be @theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin and myself (glad you like it!). More specifically, anon is referencing an argument between Tom Riddle and Edward where Tom doesn't understand why Edward wants Bella to stay human, and Edward retorts that there are certain things he doesn't expect Tom will ever understand. Tom, still not understanding, notes that Edward isn't even bringing up the prospect of Bella having kids, which at least is something only humans can do. He wasn't talking about Edward himself bringing up kids.

As for the Hong Bellamy reference, that's referring to "The Seventh Seal" by The Carnivorous Muffin, in which an omnipotent and sentient but inhuman being who doesn't understand morals decides to create a hybrid child.

The problem with either Edward bringing up a child, or Tom pulling a Hong, is that neither would happen.

Edward hasn't had a chance as a vampire, even if he were to try he would have to 1. find a human child to raise, 2. actually raise the child, and even if he for god knows what reason wanted to do this, he'd know Carlisle would never allow it. The odds of him losing control and killing the child would be too high, and even if it lived, having the child grow up around a superpowered, unaging parent would mean the child couldn't meaningfully be kept ignorant of Edward's inhuman nature. The child would have to turn, which Edward would never want.

Edward's not raising a child as a vampire, and as a human he was too young to have reared any children. Even if he'd had a younger relative he took care of, his mother Elizabeth would still have been the main caretaker, making Edward an older brother but not the child-rearer.

As for Tom, he would never get Carlisle and Esme to agree to him creating a baby in a vat. Ever. He wouldn't want to try, either, even if he could theoretically do it the process of forging a new, sentient, human being with unique DNA that actually grows into a baby and not just a cluster of cancer cells would be immensely difficult and require hundreds, if not thousands of attempts. Tom is aware of his own limitations, even if those around him are not.

(Blending human and vampire DNA to make a special human vampire hybrid, at a time when no one knows such things are viable, would be so out of the question it's not worth thinking about, it would be on par with creating an elephant salmon hybrid, in no way would Tom or anybody think it was a good idea.)

Lastly, having come from an orphanage and in this timeline never escaping that kind of poverty while he was human, Tom Riddle is... likely not the person lining up first to start creating literal factory babies.

Edit: replied too quickly, can't read.

[threebooksoneplot]

Episode 11: "Intro to Biological Horniness 101" (Show Notes)

listen along here

[00:03:37] M’s 2008 Twilight special edition 

[00:04:05] Fanlore's entry on Quizilla

[00:05:42] By “H2O: Just Add Water extra [brown] guy” M allegedly means this guy in the background of 2x20 “The Gracie Code”

[00:07:05] M’s Twilight summary

Bella and Edward walk into bio. It’s movie day. The lights go off and they are consumed with lust for the rest of the hour. Bella and Mike barely survive Gym class together and then they squabble about Edward. Bella and Edward squeeze past Rosalie’s BMW and drive home, where Bella sleeps badly and dreams of Edward. The next day Charlie makes eggs for himself but not Bella and Edward drives Bella to school while cross-examining her on the witness stand and they sit in Bio consumed with lust for the rest of the hour, then Gym class sucks again. Edward drives Bella home, time to namedrop the best boy in the whole world, who shows up with his dad and he knows what Edward is!

[00:09:37] Shannon’s Midnight Sun summary

Welcome to Chapter 12, everyone! It’s got face-touching, psychic spying, and captivating performances by both Edward and Emmett. Whose line is it anyways? Not Emmett—the boy just can’t help himself, he’s an improv king, folks. Anyways the boys get Angela a date, Edward waxes poetic about the time he spent juggling in the yard and moping in the tub, and Rosalie screams at Edward in the yard. Unfortunately, he’s not arguing back though, which is like totally a bummer, you know? Either way, Emmett and Rosalie aren’t pulling their punches this chapter, and Jasper is about thirty seconds and one more revealed secret away from trying to shove Alice in a cat carrier and bolting into the wilderness. It wouldn’t work obviously because this is Alice we’re talking about; I just think that’s neat.

AND here comes Chapter 13 barreling in like a freight train, but don’t worry, it’s only pulling along the most Bella Information we’ve literally ever gotten. I like to call this chapter “Stephenie Meyer’s Biography” because the self-insert is dialed up to eleven here. Let’s learn about Bella’s boring tastes, her adventures with Renee, and Steph—I mean BELLA’S favorite books and movies. Emmett and Jasper are betting on whether Bella survives through the weekend, Carlisle is betting Billy Black will uphold their end of the treaty, and Esme is betting on Alice! It’s a pretty mom-heavy chapter with Renee and Esme stealing the spotlight here, and I still think Rosalie should fuck up Edward’s car; she deserves it…as a treat.

[00:12:22] Some visual aids to help you younguns picture the era that M is talking about:

[00:14:06] “Is this allowed”

[00:15:18] As in this meme originating from Hark, A Vagrant

[00:30:58] G mentions this well-documented social thing

[00:33:55] The Gems and Minerals hall in the Smithsonian Natural History Museum in Washington, DC

[00:38:30] The Twilight quote on the wall of the Dymocks bookstore in Brisbane above the escalators

[00:53:56] Fine Japanese linen (sometimes things that are expensive...are worse)

[01:01:29] They TOUCH??

[xepiphany]

Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome MAEVE CAITRIA O'HARA to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 29/508 year old VAMPIRE, who is one of the SURVIVORS but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be LOQUACIOUS, but that’s all a façade to cover up their COMPASSIONATE nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to THE GREATEST by BILLIE EILISH, which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world.

she's 508 years old. At 29 she was lied to and lured into false safety by a man who ended up assaulting her, leaving her to die in the street.

Rebekah, who is her sire, ended up saving her.

She's like Rosalie from twilight and Stefan Salvatore mixed. Super maternal, kind, protective, passionate, loving, and empathetic.

She has traveled a lot in her 508 years, but stays close to Rebekah if she can.

She was skyla and starlas last foster mother before they aged out, and she views them as her own.

While jordyn was in the prison world, she ended up helping oliver with the kids and they grew close but when jordyn came back she left town, not wanting to make anything complicated and tbh to protect her own heart

She is back now. She owns the NOLA b&b.

(this will be edited to a pretty character questionnaire with extra facts about her later but here are bullet points of the main stuff for plotting)

[midnightsvns]

rosalie’s news + my tears ricochet

Of course I could not go back. What was my pain, after all, in comparison to her happiness? She should be able to smile, free from fear and danger. Free from a longing for a soulless future. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than me. When she left this world, she would go to a place that was forever barred to me, no matter how I conducted myself here. The idea of that final separation was so much more intense than the pain I already had. My body shook with it. When Bella went to the place where she belonged and I never could, I would not linger here behind. There must be oblivion. There must be relief. That was my hope, but there were no guarantees. To sleep, perchance to dream. Ay, there's the rub, I quoted to myself. Even when I was ash, would I somehow still feel the torture of her loss? I shuddered again. And, damn it, I'd promised. I'd promised her that I wouldn't haunt her life again, bring my black demons into it. I wasn't going back on my word. Couldn't I do anything right by her? Anything at all? The idea of returning to the cloudy little town that would always be my true home on this planet snaked through my thoughts again. Just to check. Just to see that she's well and safe and happy. Not to interfere. She would never know I was there... No. Damn it, no.

[delusionalwritingsofagay]

Hi!! Love your writing sooooooo much!!

Can I request Cullen family(platonic) x male reader who's a new vampire( turned after 9/11) with autism? I would prefer headcanons but will take what I can get.

Feel free to change as needed and feel free to decline

Being the newest Cullen (platonic)

Edited - 23/06/24

Carlisle had his rule but when he had found you barely clingy to life, he just had to help you so he had. You had been through something horrific so when you woke up to a man telling you he was a vampire  and so were you now you had thought he was crazy but after you figured out he wasn't lying you you had freak out before he took back to meet the rest of the Cullen's.

You became the baby of the family, So you’re older siblings were protective over you.

Since your Senses were now extra sensitive since turning it made your sensory overload unbearable sometimes so Carlisle tries to help you find some solutions or to help you with it.

Rosalie practically  adopts you as her own and helps Carlisle with teaching you control.

You mess with the rest of the family for fun

You missed human comforts like sleeping and comfort foods

You did try to eat it once but it had just tasted gross and you didn’t enjoy retching it up later that night.

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

summary: a chance encounter puts Fiona Tanner in the sights of the Cullen family. Emmett takes an immediate liking to her, but Edward thinks she's a threat to the family. No Emmett x Rosalie. warnings: kidnapping, ooc behaviour? words: 4kish

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 1

From the moment her boots hit the cement on the busy Seattle sidewalk, the search was on. Holding tightly to the handle of her suitcase she tried to get her bearings. Fiona Tanner’s sister had been missing for months. The cops had nothing, and they weren’t taking any of Fiona’s advice.

“Let us do our jobs, ma’am. We’ll find your sister…” had not so slowly turned into “we can’t find someone that doesn’t want to be found.” Insinuating that her sister had run away with some boy, over the fact that the cops simply hadn’t done a good enough job. Bree was a troubled kid, who left home in a hurry before she’d turned fifteen. But she always stayed in contact with Fiona. Little messages from burner phones to let her sister know that she was okay.

A person could only drag their sister back just to watch her run away again so many times before they needed an alternative solution.

Like she was going to just sit around and hope that they were right. She was an extra set of eyes and ears. There was nothing that could stand between her, and finding her sister. At the very least she was going to get the truth.

Besides, she knew for a fact that her sister was dead.

The bus dropped Fiona off in front of an old diner. It looked out of place next to two modern buildings, but the charm of it drew her in. The ladies inside were friendly, offering her a table and some coffee. She ordered a burger with fries and a root beer. While the waitress withdrew to the kitchen, Fiona pulled out a map of the city that she had started using as her guide to remember everything. The map and a small notebook she’d bought at the dollar store.

The map had a small blue X over a bookstore just a few blocks over, which was her first stop after getting some lunch. Now seemed like the best time to take stock of everything she knew so far.

Bree’s friends had no idea where she was. But they weren’t the brightest bunch, and not really the trustworthy type either.

Another boy from the area had gone missing recently as well. Riley Biers, last seen in May, 2010. He went missing near Pike Place Market.

Bree wouldn’t ever just run away with someone without telling her. She was in trouble.

And that was it. That was all Fiona knew.

But the family couldn’t just move on. Bree had looked exactly like Fiona did at her age. It became a curse when her own parents would struggle to look into her eyes, preferring to stare into their glass whenever she entered the room. It was like that a year ago, but when she had to tell her parents that she’d been talking to Bree, and hadn’t told them…

Being away from them wasn’t the worst thing right now.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about at that moment. Her concentration needed to be on her investigation.

“Here ya go,” the waitress said, setting down the plate of food. Fiona smiled, and slid her map out of the way. She was starving.

She picked up a fry and brought it to her mouth, but suddenly felt… wrong. There was a weird feeling in her mind. Like someone was watching. No, not watching. Listening.

Then clear as day she heard it. This tiny little nagging voice that had started harassing her a few weeks ago. It sounded just like her sister, except this voice was deeper, raspy like she was dying of thirst.

Run, Fiona.

She put the fry back and grabbed a twenty from her wallet, strolling up to the counter to pay and get a to go container. Fiona kept her cool, but kept her defences up.

Don’t think about me.

Fiona looked around the diner. There were two teens taking pictures of their milkshakes and giggling. Then there was a couple. A girl and an Abercrombie model. Only one plate of food between them.

As if on cue, the boy picked up one of her fries and put it in his mouth. But Fiona didn’t miss the confused look on the girls’ face when he did it. He whispered something under his breath that made the girl look down, her hair making a waterfall to block out her face. But it didn’t matter, Fiona had his face painted in her memories.

I said, run!

The voice was annoying. But the scary thing to Fiona, was that she could hear dead people. Kind of like a medium, but she suppressed it. Pushed it down, down, down until it was suffocated. Bree, however, always knew how to get under Fiona’s skin.

Please, Fiona thought, just tell me what happened.

I told you, it’s not safe. Go home!

“Lady?” said the waitress, holding out the change to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, putting her phoney smile back on. “Sorry, keep the change.” She took her to go box to the table and threw the fries in it, and everything else she owned back in her bag. She flipped it over one shoulder gracefully and grabbed her burger, taking a big bite of it. She looked back at the couple, but caught his narrowed eyes staring at her.

He was the one listening. She tried to immediately cover her thoughts by thinking the alphabet as loud as possible, but she could read from the look on his face that it was too late.

You’re going to get hurt. Bree had been fighting Fiona every step of the way. Putting fake clues in her mind, trying to push out clues that were helpful…

It was annoying.

C’mon Bree, Fiona thought. Gimme a clue.

How about a hint?

Yes, Bree! Please give me a hint.

Okay, go home. That’s your hint. Goodnight.

Goodnight, yourself. It’s not even dark out.

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 2

Wake up!! Bree was shouting. It was frantic, unlike anything Fiona had ever heard before. Please, Fiona, please, wake up!! Someone is in the bathroom!

In a second, all of the grogginess was wiped away. Fiona sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest. She had triple, quadruple checked that the door was locked before bed. And she could see that it was still locked now. How could someone have…

I think… they’re leaving.

How?? Fiona was starting to shake. There’s no window in there.

Then something in the air shifted. And the only reason she knew something was different was the tiny breeze she felt on her face, and the fact that the door wasn’t locked anymore.

Who was in here, Bree?

I’m not telling.

But you know?

No.

Liar.

Fiona rubbed her temples. Bree’s yelling had given her a headache. To make things worse, Bree was loudly singing, “go hoooooome” over and over. Fiona got up, changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a white tee. And pulled her boots on. She has at the edge of the bed for a minute, her head in her hands as she took some deep breaths.

Fiona looked out the window, and noticed something bizarre. There was a girl, standing stiff as a board. And Bree went radio silent.

Know that girl?

When Bree didn’t answer, Fiona dropped down, hiding herself out of view. Holy shit! Do you actually know that girl?

Fiona was getting tired of this. If Bree wasn’t going to talk, someone else was going to. With reckless abandon, she threw open the door and stomped across the parking lot, not really caring that this girl was starring at her.

“Do you know Bree Tanner?” Fiona asked loudly, before she was even close to the girl.

Shut up! Shut up! You have no idea what you’re starting!

“Excuse me?” said the girl. She was impossibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that wasn’t even fair for the rest of the world.

“My sister is Bree Tanner, and I think she knows you.”

“And how could you know that?”

“She told me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? Because she’s dead?”

The girl shut up after that. Fiona was getting sick and tired of no one answering her questions. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. If this girl was some drug dealer who got Bree killed, she was going to find out. And she wanted to find out today, right now.

“I don’t care what shit you’re in with the police, I just want to know what happened to her.”

Shut. Up! Or you’ll be dead like me.

The girl didn’t speak again. “Do you know the boy who listens?”

The next five seconds went faster than she could have possibly believed. She was suddenly in complete darkness. With all her belongings beside her. In a small, tight space. Where was she? What happened.

You’re in a TRUNK, dumbass, you just got kidnapped.

Well that, was bad news for Fiona. She wanted to scream but her mouth was covered. She wanted to fight but her hands were tied. How did that happen? How did she miss her own kidnapping?

The boy who could listen was here. Probably in the car. She could feel him in there.

“How could she know this much?” The beautiful girl asked. Fiona had no idea why, but she could hear them in her head. In her mind.

“Be quiet,” he said sharply.

Silence.

“She can hear us,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t look in her mind, I’m just hearing my words echoed back, louder than her thoughts. I think she’s burying them.”

Instead of burying them, she turned it around. Played it loud like shouting into a megaphone. Did you do this to Bree, too? And then she projected Bree’s image. She closed her eyes and tried to push every detail of her sister’s face into his mind. But, he edited it. Saw it the way he saw it, with bright red eyes. She felt the car swerve violently and she cracked her arm as she rolled onto it. It hurt so badly. She hoped it wasn’t broken but the way her fingers stopped responding to her made her worried.

“Knock it off!” he shouted.

“What?” His passenger asked. Don’t be rude, she thought.

Not you, Rosalie. Did the listening boy think that?

It was getting too confusing for her to keep all these voices straight. Rosalie was sitting with the boy who listens. She didn’t know his name. It made no sense, how could she hear them? She could only ever hear the dead, but this wasn’t the same. Bree sounded like she was in the middle of Fiona’s brain, but the other two… they sounded like Fiona was listening to them from a couple feet away. They were on the outside, and Bree was on the inside.

Please, Bree begged, I don’t know how to help you now.

It didn’t matter. Fiona passed out.

EMMETT CULLEN FORKS, DAY 1

Emmett hated when the family went into crisis mode. Jasper didn’t want to play chess because he was too busy fretting over Alice. Edward was having four panic attacks a day thinking that these “loose ends” were going to get Bella killed. And Carlisle and Esme were making Plan B arrangements in case they had to move, which is what everyone kept saying. No one was brave enough to say in case we have to kill her.

He heard Edward and Rosalie driving over the speed limit. Faster than ever, maybe. And he was excited to at least see some kind of action around here. Ever since he got to the house everyone has treated him like he’s stupid. Which he was not.

“Jasper!” Emmett called, beaming up the stairs. “They’re coming!”

“Yes, thank you Emmett. I hear them too.” Jasper spoke normally. Knowing Emmett could hear him through the walls.

Edward skidded his car to a quick stop in front of the house. Emmett happily joined Carlisle and Esme on the front lawn. They had all agreed to greet their guest and try to explain things as civilly as possible. Edward and Rosalie were supposed to go get her, invite her on a tour around town and then invite her for a dinner. Emmett was excited to make a friend, and also excited to watch his family force down a pizza. They all got so miserable after eating human food.

“Oh dear,” Esme said.

Emmett didn’t understand what the big deal was. Edward was out of the car, talking to Bella on the phone. The wedding was still a ways away, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. Rosalie had run off into the woods before even greeting anyone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone. Not that she was very friendly on a regular basis.

Only then did Emmett notice that the car door was open, but he could tell the heartbeat he heard and the blood he smelled was behind a wall of metal. She wasn’t in the backseat. They put her in the trunk?

Seemed a little rude.

The girl was bleeding back there too. Probably why Rosalie had to run. He couldn’t blame her, this girl smelled so good. She smelled like joy would taste.

“Pop the trunk!” Emmett said, laughing at Edward’s constipated expression.

“Emmett,” Carlisle whispered. His dad didn’t want to make a joke out of this. “Edward, please.”

Edward didn’t get off his phone call but clicked open the trunk with his keys. Emmett and Carlisle ran over to examine the damage.

As soon as Emmett saw her, he was smitten. Absolutely smitten. She was so pretty. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Short black hair, round little face with the pinkest lips in the world. And they looked like they would be so fun to kiss. Emmett was aware his brother wasn’t answering Bella, and instead was staring at Emmett, but he didn’t care though. He could see the relation to Bree in her features, but she was definitely older.

“Her arm is broken,” he said. “I’ll bring her to my office and set it, and cast it.”

Esme coughed for a moment, briefly distracted by the pooling of blood in the trunk of Edward’s Volvo. “Need anything from your office, dear?”

Emmett could see the appreciation on Carlisle’s face. Emmett wanted love like these two had. Or like Alice and Jasper. Or Edward and Bella. Or Rosalie and her reflection. Carlisle gave her a short list of things he would need to cast her arm, he was only missing a few things that he had used before they came back to town.

Carlisle reached to pick her up, but Emmett swatted his hands away quickly. Not harshly, as it wasn’t meant to hurt Carlisle. But Emmett had to do it himself. He had to be the one to carry this girl. It didn’t matter what Edward wanted. No one was going to hurt her. Edward doesn’t get to always have everything his way.

“What’s her name again?” Emmett asked, his voice more gentle than they’s ever heard it as he gingerly picked her up.

“Fiona.” Carlisle watched Emmett’s every move.

“Fiona,” Emmett repeated quietly.

He didn’t want her to wake up, so he walked slowly through the house. Setting her down on the space Carlisle made on the desk. The blood didn’t bother Emmett for even a moment. He never even hesitated. He just brushed the hair off her face, and waited while Carlisle worked.

“You seem to have taken to this girl.”

“I just think she’s pretty,” Emmett said. “It’s not her fault about her sister. If one of us went missing, would you not stop at nothing to get us back?”

“You’re right about that.” Carlisle looked pained. “May I ask you something, Emmett?”

“Yeah, of course.” Emmett didn’t look up from the girl’s face, and instead dragged his fingers softly around the edge of her face. Maybe she would be his Bella.

Was it creepy to be thinking this before she had a chance to wake up and meet him? He can’t just claim her, only hope that she was as fascinated by him.

Edward came through the door before Carlisle could ask about what Emmett was thinking. Edward was clearly mad. Esme slipped in, giving Carlisle the things he asked for, but opted to slip out and remove herself from the blood. Emmett understood, Fiona smelled as tempting as a fresh apple pie.

“Why is she untied?” he asked, grabbed the abandoned tie off the ground. It was all he’d had to tie her up with at the time.

“Do you think she needs to be?” Carlisle asks.

“Yes, I do.” Edward crossed his arms. Emmett was getting irritated by the vibe in the room. It was bad vibes in here.

“No, Edward.” Carlisle kept working. “We don’t hold hostages.”

“You’re right, we should just kill her now,” he said, cooly. As if it wasn’t a person they were talking about. Carlisle paused, but continued.

Emmett stood up tall, puffing his chest out and blocking Edward’s view of Fiona.

“You’re not touching her,” he said.

“Are you going to stop me, Emmett?” Edward asked. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know that I’m not a danger to her,” he said. “And you are. So get out while Carlisle works.”

“You’ve lost your…” Edward trailed off, and dropped to his knees clutching his head. Emmett stooped down on one knee, immediately changing from being worried about this girl to worried about his brother. “It’s her.”

Fiona was stirring awake, Carlisle finishing and clearing himself just in time for her to start squirming.

“Oh my god, her thoughts - there’s so many…” Edward tried to clear a path, try to sort between her thoughts and the thoughts of others’ that lived in her mind. “They’re not hers.”

“STOP!” she shouted, sitting perfectly up. “My sister doesn’t know the truth, she’s no danger to the secret.”

“Fiona?” Carlisle asked. Everyone was totally stunned. The girl looked lifeless behind her eyes, like this wasn’t her but a cheap replication of her. Other than sitting up, her limbs were still and lifeless, no sign of pain or distress.

“Bree.”

“Bree?” Esme said, slipping in the door. “Bree is it really you?” Esme fluttered over, putting her hands on the girls’ face. She was close to tears. “I’m so sorry.” Esme had been feeling guilty over Bree everyday since it had happened.

“Esme,” Carlisle said softly. He didn’t want to silence his wife, but he didn’t know how much time they had to talk to her.

“She doesn’t know what really happened. You still have time to lie. Don’t kill her.”

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Emmett said. “No one is going to hurt Fiona.”

“Remains to be seen,” Edward muttered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sounds like family meeting time,” Esme said. “I’ll go find the others.” She slipped outside the office.

“I don’t understand,” Fiona said, her eyes focused. Her voice settled. It was her now. There was life in her eyes, but also fear, and she touched the cast on her arm. Even her voice was beautiful. Is this how the dogs feel? Emmett had never felt stronger than right now. Emmett didn’t move towards her for fear of startling her, she was so small.

“She can’t stay up here alone,” Edward said.

“I trust Carlisle to speak for me,” Emmett said, looking at Fiona. She was frightened, but brave. Trying to establish her surroundings. “I’m not going to let you hurt her no matter what you say anyway.”

“You’re risking everything,” Edward said. “For someone you don’t even know.”

“Sound familiar?” Emmett asked, scoffing. “I always had your back, even when I didn’t get it.”

Edward flashed a look of guilt but shook it off. Emmett knew they couldn’t keep taking risks like this, but she wasn’t a risk, she was a person. As fast as he’s ever run, Emmett grabbed her things from the car, and dropped them right at her feet. She was shaking, clearly terrified.

“How did you do that?”

“Your phone is in there, I checked.” Emmett heard his family go silent. The conversation was a waste of time anyway, it was just Carlisle trying to convince Edward that there were more options than murder. “I won’t stop you from calling 911. We are the Cullens, you’re in Forks. I’ll even give you the number for Chief-”

“Emmett!” Rosalie yelled. But Emmett got to the door first. Holding it shut from Rosalie’s destructive fists. It cracked and splintered under her heavy hits. “If we have to start over you are so dead.”

FIONA TANNER FORKS, DAY 1

Fiona was crying now. Confused by all the thoughts in her head. She could hear the whole family. Pieces of the conversation downstairs. She could hear the listener getting mad. He didn’t like his own thoughts being repeated back to him but she couldn’t help that. There was also the typical voices that she usually had buried, but coming out of whatever happened to her allowed them to flood in. People screaming in pain, or begging for help, or just taunting her for the fun of it. What did the boy who listens make of her?

“I’m not calling the police,” she whispered. “I just want to know what happened to Bree.”

Rosalie stopped busting the door at Carlisle’s request. But each of her exaggerated stomps could be heard as she left the house. She turned on music in the garage and started fussing with her cars. Emmett just looked at her, welcoming her to make the first move.

“You’re Emmett?”

“Yes.” For his huge stature, he seemed so kind and timid to her. She could hear him thinking about her. And it was so, so flattering.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

“Then how are you alive?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that right now,” he said. “Let’s skip for now.”

“Was Bree dead?”

“I thought you already knew she was dead.” Emmett looked down. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I meant… uhm… when you met her, for the first time, was she already dead?”

“Yes.”

“Explains why I can hear you twice.” She needed a minute to process all of this. How was she supposed to process all of this?

“Can you hear me think?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, lowering his head. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Fiona smiled, and chuckled. Which made Emmett smile and chuckle. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Fiona tried to sort out her thoughts and Emmett watched her.

“I really don’t want to cause any trouble for your family,” she said. “Can you just tell me what happened to my sister?”

“No one here hurt her,” Emmett said. “We were trying to save her but there are some people who just… get their way.”

“Why did they want to hurt her?”

“Can I skip?” he asked.

She nodded lightly. His vague answers were disappointing but he seemed genuine, and it was probably a “the less you know the better” kind of deal around here. Maybe she should’ve listened to Bree.

You think? Bree thought. She sounded weak after taking control of of Fiona.

“Am I going to die, Emmett?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“No, I’ve got you now. You’ll be safe with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

[regularrocksith]

"This was supposed to be very quick warmup doodles of a few scenes from the Countess In Black side story of Rose of Versailles, but it got wayy out of hand.

Pretty much all of these are redraws, with the exception of the extra Hortense in the top right corner.

Characters: Oscar is a maned lioness (her relatives Hortense, Lulu, & Bruno are all lions too), Rosalie is a saharan cheetah, and Andre is a dog

Disclaimer: I do not own Rose of Versailles or its characters, and I'm not making money off this

Edit: whoops Rosalie's eyes turned out demonic looking :/ they're supposed to be brown"

[firsthchvrming]

     WANTED CONNECTIONS - BURRICES DA DIREITA

Eu fujo do Charming, 100% Storydom. Charming é m*rt*, Charming é uma peste, cai 17 — MUSE nunca se deu bem com Rosalie, principalmente pelos posicionamentos que ela tem e as burrices que ela fala.

Meu filho vai ser de direita, mini anticomunista, vai aprender desde de pequeno a ser o capitalista… cara, eu to rindo porque é cada coisa — por trás de toda a pose de Rosalie de conservadora de Storydom, ela apenas reproduz discursos que o pai fala e MUSE percebe isso, fazendo com que ela sempre caia em contradição no que diz.

Podemos viver sem oxigênio, mas nunca sem liberdade — MUSE é talvez uma das únicas pessoas que suporta o que Rosalie fala — e provavelmente até concorde — por não ter lá muita opinião.

Minha gatinha comunista, eu preciso te dizer, que eu acho que o vermelho fica tão bem em você — Rosalie diz odiar os legados do Castigo, mas sempre que tem uma oportunidade, ela vai para a cama com MUSE. @segaeuikatanajun

Porque ele é um idiota e você uma otária. — MUSE e Rosalie dividem o mesmo — minúsculo — neurônio e por isso acabam se dando bem em conversas que qualquer um se assustaria de escutar, porque é muita falta de informação em um curto espaço de tempo.

Menino veste rosa e menina veste azul — MUSE foi o primeiro beijo em alguém do mesmo sexo que Rosalie deu e usa disso para ficar enchendo o saco da garota que nega até a morte.

[beetles-and-rock]

REMEMBERING THE ROADHOUSE HAS OFFICIALLY MOVED TO AO3 THE FIRST CHAPTER HAS EDITED!!! 

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: School of Rock - Lloyd Webber/Slater/Fellowes Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dewey Finn/Rosalie Mullins Characters: Dewey Finn, Rosalie Mullins, Summer Hathaway, Billy Sandford, Shonelle (School of Rock - Lloyd Webber/Slater/Fellowes), Zack Mooneyham, Freddy Jones | Freddy Hamilton, Katie Travis, Gracie, Ned Schneebly, Patty Summary:

A year after Dewey Finn came to Horace Greene, impersonating substitute teacher Ned Schneebely. The now official music coach of the school once again finds himself preparing his students for the Battle of the Bands, with confidence that this year, they'll actually be picked first over No Vacancy and any other band that might stand in their way. Meanwhile Rosalie is extremely stressed out with parents night coming up the week after. Dewey has taken notice of how she works herself to exhaustion in order to make everything perfect. He struggles to convince her to relax and take breaks, not wanting her to hurt herself, while also missing the attention he had been getting from her since they had gotten together a few months after last years incident. He finds the opportunity for a relaxing on the anniversary of the night they first really started getting to know eachother. He'll have to work extra hard to make sure this night is perfect, as well as makes sure his students are prepared for the battle. Will he be able to pull both off?

[emmettsmantiddies]

2 10 12 16 i love u so much do not open ur presents

I love u so much too (let me open thEMMMMMMMM)

2. Oldest mutuals

@that-crooked-smile was my first follower and I love her

@haletwinsstan was the first person I spoke to and my first friend here

@bellaswanandleahclearwater4eva was early on too

These are just the three I remember earliest (also I have a bad memory so if I forgot you plz come for my neck)

10. Mutuals you’d sing to?

Oh, so who would I torture?

@emmettisapowerbottom bc she can actually sing and her food opinions are garbage

@anagonyeet idk man Ama just brings out the vocalist in me

@a-sucker-for-rosalie bc you have to sing for your sugar daddy

Also whoever my secret santa is (but I think I know who it is😉)

12. Mutuals who know a secret about you

Honestly if you talk to me for more than like 20 minutes we are officially besties and you will know everything and anything about me, but the egg chat knows entirely too much, they could write a full exposé on me (and I would thank them bc they are precious and I love them)

16. Fact about one of your mutuals?

I’m gonna do the entire egg chat bc I am extra

@finitetwilight has the best laugh. Ever.

@bellaswanandleahclearwater4eva has the cutest accent and is so so sweet

@that-crooked-smile has the best accent. Sounds like what I think someone from Genovia should sound like

@a-sucker-for-rosalie has such a cute voice. Also is shorter than me😌

@bellas-dumptruck-ass Has 2 brothers (one of which we voted off for being impostor when he wasn’t💀)

@aushaisee has the prettiest eyes

@jacobblackstan is too pure for this world

@sparklicullen can sing so well

@emmettisapowerbottom is so knowledgable and teaches me something every day (including how bad her taste is)

@finding-the-daylight gives the best advice

@mccartycullen can also sing!!!

@anagonyeet learned how to make slime yesterday. It did not go well.

@comradebellaswan SO SMART. LITERALLY, EVERYTHING SHE SAYS IS PERFECTLY ELOQUENT AND FULL OF KNOWLEDGE

@team-ziploc-bag-of-eggs has the best cursed thots and editing skills, also they are the most precious bean and they blessed the chat with sunshine yesterday

@depressionchair has a mothman kink

[flowerslut]

Merry Christmas @tragicallywicked! And SURPRISE! I was your Jalice secret Santa! 🥰🎄🙈

Now, let me introduce to you the 15k+ idea that was born last night and that I vomited up and edited in roughly 24 hours. Trust me, it doesn’t read like it’s a hastily-scrapped together fic; I pinky promise. I’m very proud of this fic. Sorry about the whump though. It wasn't unintentional; honest.

Summary: He contemplates telling Peter about Alice’s visits, but something holds him back from doing it. Perhaps because it doesn’t feel like Alice whenever she’s lying on his bedroom floor, curled in an old blanket that’s too small for him but perfectly sized for her, utterly still and silent even while awake. A part of him feels like it would be a betrayal to reveal this side of her to someone even as close to him as Peter is. After all, Peter is his friend. And Alice is… well, not.

Title: No Friend of Mine Words: 15,199 Rating: T Read on: AO3 // or under the cut

He’s not friends with Alice Brandon.

Not really. But in the time it’s taken for him to even properly learn her name—Alice, not Mary-Alice, he hears her cheerfully inform a group of girls making nasty comments one day; comments designed to hurt, and to be overheard—she has apparently decided that Jasper is her friend, and that’s where things become a little confusing.

Maybe she’s just a glutton for punishment. After all, if she wanted an easy time of it, there was an entire list of things she could do to avoid it. That sounded mean, but it was true.

She’s just a weird girl. Plenty of those in the world. No crime about that. About girls who dance in the hallways between classes, or who talk to strangers with the friendliness of someone who’s known them for years. There is nothing wrong with the fact that Alice Brandon wears her hair in bizarre styles or wears clothes that... alright, well maybe that is something that he doesn’t understand, either. Not that he is an expert on fashion, but even Jasper knows her choices are strange.

Alice Brandon being weird doesn’t affect him in the way that it apparently offends most of the students in their tiny school. He can picture her fitting in better at a larger school in a different school district, perhaps. More students always meant more variety, diversity, and cliques. More students would’ve meant that there would have been a whole slew of other weird kids of Alice’s type that she could have hung out with.

But not in Fork’s high.

Which meant the day Alice showed up at his corner of the cafeteria, tray in hand as she grinned over at him and Peter, he felt something in him twist as she sat down beside him, making a remark to Peter he couldn’t quite focus on as he realized that with an absence of overt weirdos at the school, Alice was going to come to the next-best thing. Their little group of ‘misfits’.

He had glanced further down the rectangular table and made quick eye contact with Edward Cullen and Bella Swan, who had also noted the tiny dark-haired girl’s presence, but neither of them made a comment, and Jasper spent the rest of the lunch period wishing she’d sat down next to those two, and not himself and Peter.

It wasn’t to be mean. Truly. But Jasper preferred to go through life (and school) as completely unnoticed as possible. And for the first few weeks Alice Brandon had attended Fork’s high, it seemed that’s all she did: attract attention. 

He’s not exactly friends with Alice Brandon.

After all, he knows so little about her. Only that she moved to Washington state about a couple months back with her family. That she’s a sophomore; a year behind both Peter and Jasper. And that she doesn’t need much encouragement, or participation really, when it comes to conversation. Alice can talk about anything and everything at length.

He knows, only because of the way she pronounces certain words, that she’s probably from the South. He knows, because his sister Rosalie has art with her, that she struggles a lot with simple tasks and often misunderstands requests from teachers. And he knows, because adults like to gossip when they don’t think teenagers are around, that the story as to why Alice’s family moved to that town is shrouded in some layer of secrecy.

Even when Bella, on one of the days Alice attempted to unite both ends of their lunch table in one cohesive conversation, had asked her a simple question about her ‘old school’ Alice had ignored the question entirely, before delving into an at-length explanation of the way she’d designed her favorite skirt.

Jasper had stood up and left lunch early that day. It wasn’t that he hated the girl, or even that he dislike her, but she bothered him so fiercely sometimes.

And they definitely weren’t friends.

So when she shows up unannounced at two o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday night, tossing tiny rocks up against his window, he doesn’t understand why.

He whispers down a series of questions at her, too shocked to understand what was going on.

What is she doing there? (She needs somewhere to stay for a few hours.)

Why? (Just because.)

How did she find his house? (School directory.)

Why did she come here? (It’s cold. Please.)

Later, he tells her she’s lucky his parent’s bedroom has windows that face the opposite direction of the house, meaning that they aren’t privy to their first conversation. But he shares a wall with Rosalie, he whispers to her as he leads her up the stairs, so she has to be quiet, he emphasizes the point with a look, as if doubting such a task is within her abilities. 

Thankfully, it is possible for Alice Brandon to be quiet. 

In fact, she doesn’t say anything that first night after he sneaks her up to his room and lets her curl up with an extra blanket on the floor beside his bed. Jasper isn’t even sure she’s slept; she’d been awake when he’d crawled back into bed, and then still awake when he’d awoken extra early the next morning. And when he explains that he can’t just drive her to school that day without getting in trouble—besides, Rosalie will have a fit (for more reason than one) if he emerges from his bedroom with Alice Brandon behind him—she only nods, asks for a drink of water, and thanks him as she sneaks out the front door, off back toward her house, he assumes.

Lunch that day is the same as any other. Alice’s bright smile greets him and Peter, her voice filling the space where comfortable silence and companionable conversation used to linger, and that’s when he starts paying attention.

To the fact that she rarely, if ever, eats anything. That her clothes, while layered strangely and often mis-matched, barely fit her small frame.

One day, a week after her first appearance at his house, Jasper is walking through the halls when he overhears Lauren Mallory loudly exclaim “God, do you know how to shut the fuck up?” Only to turn and watch Alice’s smile deflate.

He stops in his tracks at the sight because no ones comments have ever affected Alice like this. At least, as far as he’s seen. He even wonders if he should step in and say something, because Lauren isn’t finished with airing her frustrations at the tiny new girl, and each statement is growing more cruel than the last.

Before he can force his feet to move Bella Swan is already there, all stern words and deadly glances as she wraps an arm around the smaller girl and turns her away. Jasper can’t hear what she says but Lauren looks incensed and none of her friends are chiming in to help. And then Bella quickly whisks Alice away and Jasper realizes he’s still standing there, in the middle of the hallway, staring at their retreating forms.

He skips lunch that day, feeling like a coward for forcing shy, introverted Bella of all people to come to the harmless girl’s rescue, while he stood there, watching the scene alongside half a dozen others who happened to overhear the platinum blonde girl’s tirade.

Alice comes to him again that night, another handful of pebbles tossed to his window, but this time she doesn’t speak even when he does lean out his window to ask her questions.

What happened?

Is she alright?

Does she need a place to stay? 

She nods at that question, and it’s all the reply Jasper needs before he’s closing the window and tiptoeing down the stairs, guilt and worry dancing around inside his brain.

But Alice is quiet as a mouse as he leads her up into his room. She quickly occupies the same spot on the floor next to Jasper’s bed. Like before, she has brought only a small backpack with her. Whether she owns a phone or not doesn’t occur to him—he’s never seen her use one before, even at lunch—but she never once retrieves anything from the bag.

With the pillow and blanket Jasper tosses her way, she’s curled up and asleep in minutes. This time, it’s Jasper who doesn’t sleep as he lays awake, his attention torn between this small schoolmate of his and his guilty conscience that makes him wonder if today would have gone differently if he’d come to her aid.

But morning comes, Alice leaves, and then when he sees her at school later she’s good as new. Talking and laughing and dancing through the halls like always.

He contemplates telling Peter about Alice’s visits, but something holds him back from doing it. Perhaps because it doesn’t feel like Alice whenever she’s lying on his bedroom floor, curled in an old blanket that’s too small for him but perfectly sized for her, utterly still and silent even while awake. A part of him feels like it would be a betrayal to reveal this side of her to someone even as close to him as Peter is.

After all, Peter is his friend. And Alice is… well, not.

It’s something he wishes he could tell Rosalie about. He loves his sister more than anyone else in this world but she’s too… involved in everything. He knows that she second she finds out it will mean the end of his privacy for the foreseeable future. It doesn’t help that he isn’t entirely sure that Rosalie won’t also say something rude to Alice. Nothing as cruel as Lauren Mallory’s blow-up, but still. Rosalie isn’t typically known for her warmth and consideration when it comes to outsiders…

It’s the night she shows up to his house for the third time, when things begin to change.

Her purple hoodie is pulled up tight over her head when he opens the window to get a good look at her. The material is certainly too thin for the weather she’s out in, but Jasper’s never seen her in anything warmer.

Alice tilts her head up toward him, and when his eyes fall upon her split lip, he doesn’t ask a single question. He almost slams the window shut and moves so fast down the stairs that he knows if he isn’t careful he’ll wake Rosalie and their parents.

She’s waiting on his doorstep when he finally swings the door open, ushering her into the house quickly and quietly.

The instant his bedroom door is closed he flicks his standing fan on it’s highest setting and pushes it close to the door. He’s going to need the white noise to drown out any noise their conversation makes. And he’s going to need her to talk tonight.

“Alice,” his voice is barely more than a whisper, but she ignores him. “Hey, Alice.” And when he ducks down to look her in her eyes, she averts her gaze. “What happened?” His head is swimming with thoughts and ideas and worst-case-scenarios, and as he looks at her face—the split lip, her bleeding cheek, and her swollen eye—he feels worry and fury at war within himself.

These are no ‘accidental’ injuries. Jasper knows with a sinking feeling that running into a doorframe, or tripping on the stairs, didn’t cause this injury.

(His mind is filled with images of the night Rose came home looking similar, and the rage that ignites in his body is hard to reason with.)

“Who did this?” Jasper’s words are slow and careful, but they are not quiet and he doesn’t know if he can be anymore. But Alice doesn’t reply, instead looking anywhere but him, as if she’s embarrassed or ashamed of herself.

But she came here, a voice in his head reminds him. And he doesn’t know if she’s aware of the weight of that—of this trust she apparently has in him—but he is.

He asks her to sit on his bed and then sneaks off to the bathroom in the hall, and then while Alice cleans blood off of her face with a damp rag he tiptoes downstairs to grab an ice pack from the freezer. When he returns she’s already pulled the spare blanket tight around her shoulders, and is lying on the ground.

“Alice,” he says softly, his chest aching at the sight of her, curled up so small on the ground, hurt and quiet. “Get up, I’ve got ice for your face.”

But Alice doesn’t movie, so he’s forced on the ground beside her. It’s when he places a tentative on her shoulder that he realizes she’s shaking with silent sobs. She only curls up tighter at his touch, and Jasper withdraws his hands immediately. He has the thought that maybe he should wake Rosalie, and let her come help. Surely, and despite all of his sister’s prickliness, Rose is better suited for a task like this. Jasper has never been good at comforting people with his words.

“Alice,” he doesn’t know what to say, and has less of an idea of what to do. But eventually she rolls over to face him and reaches out for the ice pack wordlessly. He hands it over and watches, speechless, as she simply presses the ice to her cheek, still not looking up at him.

“Will you tell me what happened?” He asks, feeling as if he already knows the answer, and when she shakes her head and closes her eyes tighter, the pain in Jasper’s chest throbs. “Okay,” he says, because no matter how badly he wants to know, he knows that her showing up here is significant. That there is trust here, despite the fact that Jasper hardly understands why. But it’s trust that seems so fragile that he’s terrified of shattering it if he pushes too hard.

By five o’clock she’s up and moving, and Jasper—who hadn’t slept a wink, instead choosing to lie awake and watch Alice, to make sure she was still breathing as she slept—is requesting that she stay. He offers to play hooky and encourages her to do the same.

She contemplates the offer before nodding to herself. But she leaves anyways, accepting a new ice pack on the way out of the door. She’s gone seconds before his dad is padding through the kitchen, ready to turn on the coffee maker, and Jasper’s heart is palpitating because he doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re up awfully early,” the man grumbles as Jasper wanders into the kitchen. Joseph Hale is a quiet man. A good father, despite how rarely he’s at home due to work. They aren’t alike in many ways other than disposition, but Jasper always enjoys when his father is around. During his absences, his mother often disappears for days at a time, only appearing to change clothes, or argue with Rosalie. With Joseph around Jasper can almost pretend they are a normal, happy family.

His father’s words rip him out of his reverie. “By god… what happened to you?”

Jasper blinks up at his dad before realizing he’s holding the bloody rag Alice used to clean up her face. He blanches at the sight, forgetting he’d even been holding it, and then just shrugs. “Woke up with a nosebleed.”

Joseph shakes his head, frowning as he gestures to the towel. “Your mom’s going to have a fit that you used one of her good towels.”

“I’ll clean it before school.”

Joseph hums, already moving on from this conversation to dig through the cabinets for a bowl for his breakfast. “There should be peroxide under the sink.”

Jasper spends twenty minutes dousing the hand towel with hydrogen peroxide in an attempt to clean Alice’s blood out of the fabric. And by the time the stain is just a faded brown against the cream-colored towel, he can hear Rosalie’s alarm going off.

The drive to school that morning is tense, and the hours leading up to lunch pass by in a blur. Jasper’s mind isn’t focusing on anything, and when Mrs. Chapel calls on him in math class he realizes he hasn’t even pulled his textbook from his backpack.

When lunch rolls around it’s clear to him, as he walks into the cafeteria with a mixture of relief and disappointment, that Alice isn’t there today. He isn’t the only one who has noticed her absence, and as he’s passing through the cafeteria he hears one of Lauren Mallory’s friends make a loud remark.

“Looks like the clown got stuck back at the circus today,” Carson Keys declares loudly enough for Jasper to hear him, three tables away. He turns to look at the dark-haired jackass, knowing that these are the comments they usually reserve for Alice’s eavesdropping ears. But Alice isn’t here today, and Jasper knows why.

And Jasper also knows that there’s a reason he’s never been the victim of any bullying at this school. Despite his misanthropic nature, he isn’t a very easy target. Maybe it’s because he’s one of the taller ones in the school, or maybe its the rumor that circulated last year when he was a sophomore, that he’d killed a senior for messing around with his sister.

But despite the very thorough beating he’d been given, Royce King was still very much alive, despite his swift disappearance from both the school district and social media. The King family had wanted to quiet the ‘incident’ as quickly as they could and had quietly moved somewhere East of Seattle.

The days spent in juvenile court and subsequent six months of house arrest had been worth it, in Jasper’s eyes.

It doesn’t bother Jasper one bit that many of the students are convinced Jasper has killed someone. Anything that keeps people away from him, and prevents others from harming Rose any further, is worth it in his eyes.

Jasper watches as Carson’s joke causes their table to erupt in giggles and head-shakes. Before he knows what he’s doing he’s walking over to the table, a twinge of fury forcing his feet forward.

He goes unnoticed until he picks up one of their textbooks and drops it from shoulder-level. The noise makes a sharp clap that causes the surrounding table to flinch and turn towards the source. Silence seizes most of his classmates as their eyes turn to bore into his form, and Jasper is almost thankful for this awful, unwanted attention. Their unease will certainly make this more effective.

Carson realizes it’s Jasper Hale standing beside him a few seconds after his friends are quiet and staring, and the grin slips off his face so fast it’s almost comical. “Hey Hale,” he says stupidly, and Jasper can almost feel the regret filling the air. “What’s up?”

Jasper doesn’t speak at first, and for a second he wonders if maybe he does have some sort of anger issue like his lawyer suggested, because watching Carson squirm in his seat while his other tough-talking friends are suddenly suspiciously quiet is very, very enjoyable.

He doesn’t issue any threatening quips or waste time with a joke of his own. No, instead Jasper leans in close, forcing Carson to back up a few inches, his eyes wide. “Say it again. Go on.”

Carson of course, doesn’t. Instead looking to his friends for help. It’s Whitney Barnes who chimes in first.

“It’s just a joke,” she says nastily, rolling her eyes at Jasper’s presence as she moves her attention to her phone, lying on the table. “It’s not a big deal.”

Whitney’s dismissal of Jasper’s actions seems to encourage Carson again. He pulls a grin back on his face, “We mean no harm, bro. Mary-Alice is a fun little thing.” He looks back to Jasper but something in his expression makes his smile fall again. “No harm, man,” he’s backpedaling again, lifting his hands up in front of him, as if to claim he doesn’t want any trouble.

It’s only Rosalie’s appearance at his side that keeps him from doing anything he regrets.

He can tell its her immediately by the way she grips the side of his shirt, bunching up the material in his fist and tugging twice. (Something she has done for as long as he can remember.) “C’mon,” her voice is quiet but annoyed. “Old man Bakers is watching.” She speaks, referring to the assistant principal that roams the halls during the student’s ‘free’ periods.

Carson’s face brightens at the appearance of his sister, but before he can open his mouth to say anything mindless, she chimes in. “I don’t want to hear it. Just keep your mouth shut.”

“But I—”

“No. Stop. I have a test next and I’m losing braincells. Shut up.” Rosalie is already walking away, Jasper’s shirt still gripped tightly as she leads him back the way he came. “You too, Miss Perpetual-Understudy.” Rosalie calls over her shoulder to Whitney, hitting the girl where it hurts. Always a very Rosalie thing to do; to say as little as possible while inflicting the most damage she can.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop it,” she grits through her teeth once they’re out of earshot. “If you start a fight at school they’ll slap that ankle monitor back on you before Carson’s dumb face will hit the linoleum.”

It’s an amusing thing to imagine, but he doesn’t want to irritate Rosalie any further, so he just shrugs noncommittally.

“What’s that all about anyways?” She demands as she drags him to her table. It’s still mostly-empty, thankfully. Only Emmett is there yet, and a couple other members of the football team that are nice enough. He likes Emmett for the most part. Most of the guys in school had been afraid of Jasper, and too terrified to get anywhere near Rosalie after last year’s incident. Emmett, on the other hand, had cornered Jasper the day he’d been allowed back at school and thanked him for doing what he didn’t get the chance to.

Jasper tries not to have to many opinions on his sister’s dating life now, but some days he thinks that Emmett wouldn’t be the worst choice if Rosalie decides to reciprocate the big guy’s obvious feelings.

“Nothing,” he speaks quietly as Rose sits in her seat. He knows that she wants him to sit with her and fill her in, but Jasper has never been comfortable around her friends. And he isn’t about to entertain their companionship on today of all days; he’s far too wound up.

“I heard Carson say something rude about that Alice girl,” the boy next to Emmett, whose name Jasper doesn’t know, chimes in. “Loud as shit, of course. But I didn’t hear much else,” he looks up at Jasper and shrugs. “You gotta do what you gotta do man. I would fully support your decision if you clocked him. Morally support, I mean. I can’t physically or I’ll lose my scholarship to UW.”

“No one is getting ‘clocked’,” Rosalie shoots the guy a glare before turning to Jasper and tugging on his shirt again. “Also, if you tried intimidating every person who’s been mean to Alice you’re going to have a long list.” She tugs on his shirt a third time, “sit.”

As Jasper settles into the seat beside his sister, absolutely dreading the next half hour, Emmett chimes in. “She’s a funny girl,” the curly-haired guys speaks, taking an enormous bite of his sandwich, “she told me she’d make me a bracelet the other day because I told her I liked her hair.” The boy next to him snorts and Emmett laughs, “What?” He speaks, mouth full, “like I’m going to say no to a free bracelet?! You’re out of your damn mind.”

“She’s friendly alright,” Rose speaks, turning her gaze back to Jasper. “Don’t know why she likes your prickly ass.”

“I’m not prickly,” Jasper deadpans, accepting the bag of chips Rose shoves into his hands.

Emmett laughs at that one. “Because you’re so warm and cuddly.”

“Em, hush.”

“I’m just playing around. But seriously. I like her. She’s fun.” He takes a sip of soda and fixes Jasper with another look. “Besides, I don’t think she has an easy time of it. My little sister is in her sister Cynthia’s class down at the grade school,” Jasper’s attention perks up at that. Alice has a sister? “According to Jennie, some accident that killed their mom messed Alice’s head up. I think it was a car accident. I’m not sure. It’s really sad though.”

A few members of the table nod at that, a morose feeling falling over them as more of Rosalie’s friends arrive, and then when Daniel Langfield starts telling the story of his uncle’s life-claiming car wreck, Jasper feels his mind wander.

He supposes that’s the day he halfway ‘befriends’ Alice Brandon.

Of course it would be the day she’s not even at school.

If anything he feels less like a friend and more like a protector. Or a guard dog. Like someone willing to do what it takes to keep people off her fucking back, and out of her goddamned business.

Later that night, before he climbs into bed, he rips a piece of notebook paper out of his binder and scribbles a small message on it.

I’m here if you want to talk about it.

He doesn’t see her the following morning, but he slips the note into her locker anyways. It isn’t until he’s walking to his first period class when he realizes he never signed the paper, and up until lunch he kicks himself, feeling much like a weirdo or a creep for delivering such a cryptic, out-of-context note.

But Alice is already waiting for him by the doors of the cafeteria when he finally sees her for the first time that day. She grins up at him, like she always does at school, big and wide, and Jasper is nearly stunned by the fact that she looks completely fine.

Whatever makeup she’s painted her face with that day has made her look entirely normal. But when she chatters at him, walking at his side as they wander across the cafeteria, he notices that her left eye is still a bit swollen, and blinks a bit slower than her right. Her expertly applied lipstick has nearly hidden her fat lip completely. 

Peter isn’t there that day. He’d had a dentist appointment and left during the last period, so it’s only them today. 

He knows that no one is listening in; if anything, the students of Forks’ High have begun practicing the art of tuning out Alice Brandon’s voice, but he still keeps his voice low when he asks her how she is.

“I’m fine,” she smiles up at him, before she opens her sketchbook and asks him for his input on her current art project.

“Did you get my note?”

She pauses then, smiling down at the still-life on the paper in front of her. Then, she reaches out and grabs the top of his hand, squeezing tightly before releasing it. She doesn’t so much as glance at him while she does this, and in seconds she’s already back to discussing her day.

Jasper knows that he isn’t going to get anything out of her today, and instead he pays attention to her every movement, and every quirk, watching her closely as she explains her current portrait and pulls out colored pencils, slowly working while she prattles on about some anecdote from gym class.

And with each day that passes he finds himself more curious about her. She doesn’t reveal anything during the school day, instead using their lunch period to talk and hum and laugh. He sits at her side, forgoing his music or books to simply watch and listen to her. But as the days pass, her face heals, and Alice reveals nothing.

He knows its only a matter of time before she shows up in his yard at night.

But the next time it happens, he has some warning.

Alice isn’t in school for four days. He hasn’t heard anything from the other students, and why would he? He’s the one she spends most of her time around anyways. If anything, the other students probably assume he knows whether she’s sick or not. By Thursday, even Peter asks him if he knows where she is. Jasper hates how he feels when he wordlessly shakes his head, anxiously picking the bread off the burger in front of him.

It’s Friday when Bella Swan approaches him in the parking lot while he waits for Rosalie. She startles him at first; he’d been sitting in his car listening to music when she tapped on the window. And when he turns the music down and lowers the window, she swiftly apologizes. He just barely takes note of Edward standing a few feet away.

“You haven’t heard from Alice, have you?”

Jasper shakes his head. “No.” He says simply, and then, “I don’t have her number.”

Bella frowns. “She doesn’t have a phone,” she explains, “I’m just…” she straightens back up, folding her arms and she turns back toward Edward. The redhead nods and Bella turns back toward Jasper. “I’m really, really worried.”

“Why?” Jasper shuts the car off then. Something in Bella’s expression causes alarms to go off in his mind, and he’s climbing back out of the old sedan before he can help it. “What makes you say that?”

Bella looks back at Edward again, and the redhead sighs and approaches. “You didn’t hear this from me,” he speaks quietly, looking around to make sure no one overhears. “My dad asked me last night whether I was friends with Alice. And I didn’t even know that he knew who that was. I…” he looked a bit embarrassed then, “I sort of weaseled a little bit of information out of him. But I think something happened to her that put her in the hospital. My dad didn’t say much but, you know how adults get when they want you to befriend someone else or ‘keep an eye’ on them or whatever? It was really weird and… kind of telling.”

“Do you know anything?” Bella asks, and her voice is so pleading, her face filled with so much worry that eventually he starts talking. He tells them about her first visit, and then about her second. And he’s rambling by the time he gets to her third, and most recent visit. It isn’t until he’s talking about her bloodied face and the fact that she cried as quietly as she could, curled up on the floor of his bedroom, when a voice chimes in.

“So that’s where Mom’s good towel went.”

His blood freezes in his veins when he realizes that Rosalie has snuck up behind them, unnoticed. Emmett McCarty is standing behind her, looking nervous at the fact that they have just overheard Jasper’s hurried confession.

Bella looks nervous at their intrusion, and Edward’s face is stern. Rosalie is glaring daggers at her brother, and it’s Emmett that chimes in eventually.

“What can we do?”

When their eyes all drift to Jasper, he feels as if his chest is about to cave in on itself. He doesn’t know how to tell them that he doesn’t know what to do. “Bella says she doesn’t have a phone.”

“Can’t we pull up to her house? Check on her at least?” The concern scrawled across Emmett’s features make him look far less menacing than he usually comes off as—he’s the only one in the Junior class taller than Jasper. 

“That’s the last thing we should do,” Rosalie snaps, her words quiet. “The second you try to white-knight your way into whatever situation she’s dealing with, you’ll immediately make it ten times worse for her.” Rose speaks her words with the confidence of someone who truly knows what Alice’s situation is like, and it shuts everyone else up immediately.

There’s silence, then, Edward speaks. “We still don’t know what she’s dealing with. Let’s not assume.”

Rosalie glares at him then. “If your dad was dealing with her at the fucking emergency room, it wasn’t just a check up or a misunderstanding. Don’t be an idiot.”

“I’ll talk to Jennie when I get home,” Emmett offers, referring to his little sister who is classmates with Alice’s sister. “See if Cynthia has said anything at school.”

Bella nods, “Kids see and hear a lot more than people give them credit for.”

Rosalie speaks only to Jasper. “If she comes to you again, that’s a good thing. I can help cover your ass if you need it, but if you push her too much you will drive her away. Whatever you do, don’t go getting yourself arrested again, or I’ll beat you to a pulp.” Then, to everyone else, “If you really want to help her, give her space and mind your business. She’ll either come around, or she won’t. You can’t force it.” She climbs into the passenger seat, “Let’s go, Jasper.”

The drive home is quiet, and painfully awkward. Jasper keeps waiting for Rosalie to snap at him, or for her attitude to catch up, but when she reaches out and grabs a fistful of his shirt, holding it in her hand, he understands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you enough,” she speaks as he turns into their neighborhood, approaching the house. “I wish I had asked for help before it was too late. But,” there’s another patch of silence as he parks in the driveway before she speaks again, “Alice is trusting you with whatever is happening. Don’t take that for granted, and don’t fuck it up. She’ll decide what you can do to help her at her own pace.” Opening the door to the car she stands up as she gathers her things. “Don’t go trying to fuck your life up again. Please.” Then, she slams it and walks toward the house.

Alice doesn’t visit that night, but on Saturday night he’s restless. He picks up his phone and re-reads that day’s text messages. He’s comforted knowing that he isn’t the only person who has been plagued with worry over Alice that day. Bella confesses that she name dropped Alice in conversation with her father—the chief of police—who also pulled something akin to Edward’s dad, requesting his daughter to be nice to the girl and perhaps invite her over sometime.

It is confirmation enough that whatever is happening to Alice was known by both hospital workers and police. This information is enough for Jasper’s concern to turn into something far more nauseating. He’s not even comforted by the involvement of people outside of Alice’s situation, because if what was happening to her was severe enough for the police chief and Doctor Carlisle Cullen to be involved, it wasn’t good.

He’s up late, re-reading Emmett’s most recent texts, explaining that Jennie didn’t see Cynthia on Thursday or Friday, when the first rock knocks against his window.

He doesn’t even rush over to it, instead flinging his bedroom door open and zooming down the stairs as quick as possible—he’s never been so happy for his father to be on a work trip and for his mother to be off and absent once more than he is when he barges through the front door and runs to the side of the house.

The sight of Alice standing beneath his window, preparing to fling another pebble, her face wincing in pain, is both a relief as well as a worry.

She jumps at his sudden appearance, stumbling back as fear flickers across her face. It only takes her a second to realize who is rushing toward her, but by the time recognition calms her, Jasper has already slowed himself.

She’s wearing her purple hoodie again, and her face is black and blue. She reaches up to pull her hood tighter around her face and that’s when Jasper takes note of the pink cast encasing her forearm.

“Alice,” he breathes, approaching slower as he reaches out to her. Thankfully she doesn’t recoil from him and instead walks directly toward him. When she wraps her arms around him, Jasper doesn’t hesitate to hold her close. With her embrace he feels all the tension slowly seep out of him, and it’s when he feels her shivering that he steps back, keeping an arm over her shoulders as he guides her toward the house.

She’s as quiet as she typically is during all of her visits, so Jasper decides to fill the silence instead.

He talks at her mostly, prompting input here and there, but Alice is content to sit quietly on his bed as he rifles through his closet. He eventually finds a winter coat that stopped fitting him before high school and tosses it on the bed beside her. He tells her that it belongs to her now and that he wants to see her wearing it next time she decides to make the trek to his house at night.

He asks her how far she lives, and even when she doesn’t reply he informs her that he has a car, and can pick her up at a moment’s notice if she ever needs him to. He also asks about her phone situation, knowing that she doesn’t have access to a cell phone, but that if she has access to a computer, his phone dings when he gets an email. He can put her email in his contacts so that it rings loudly any time she sends a message his way.

He offers her food, and even when she doesn’t accept (or decline) he disappears for a few minutes, returning with some reheated pizza and a couple of glasses of water.

She accepts the water with a smile, and seeing the light in her eyes, despite how battered her face looks, does something strange to Jasper’s chest.

It’s when he asks her if she’s tired that she finally gives him a response, shaking her head.

“In that case,” he walks over to his desk, unplugging his laptop and carrying it over to the bed, depositing it in front of her. “We can watch a movie.”

He sneaks back into the hallway, and is rifling through the hall closet, retrieving extra pillows and blankets, when Rosalie’s door opens and he freezes, turning toward her with a look akin to a deer caught in headlights.

“Here,” his sister whispers as she tosses something his way, “she can keep these.” Before they can fall to the ground Jasper plucks the cotton pajamas out of the air, nodding toward his sister. With her voice low she then tacks on a threat, “and don’t eat all the pizza. I was saving some for lunch tomorrow.”

He smiles at her as she closes the door softly behind her, trying to decide whether its best to lie to Alice about the blue pajamas or to just tell them they’re a gift from Rosalie.

In reality, he doesn’t need to say anything, because when he presents them to her she smiles up at him, softly thanking him before placing them on the bed beside her.

“I’m serious,” he remarks as he turns the laptop toward him, opening and starting it up. “They’re all yours. They were Rose’s in like, freshman year before she got her growth spurt.”

“I doubt they’ll fit,” Alice’s voice finally rings out clear, and Jasper counts that as a win.

Jasper smirks over at her as he logs into Peter’s Netflix account. “Trust me, I wasn’t the only one who grew nearly half a foot freshman year. The money we spent on clothes that year was a little excessive.”

Alice excuses herself to the hallway bathroom a minute after that, and when she returns, dressed more comfortably now, Jasper smiles. “My uh, parents aren’t home by the way, so you can stay as long as you need.”

She doesn’t reply, but she does climb back into his bed, and when she wraps the old blue blanket around her shoulders—a blanket that Jasper is beginning to view as hers—she scoots herself into the corner of his bed, resting her back against his headboard and pillows.

Jasper is careful to keep his distance as he settles himself beside her, but Alice is quick to scoot closer, and when he asks if she has any suggestions or requests, she simply shakes her head, smiling at the screen, her chin resting atop her knees.

She is asleep twenty minutes into the movie, her head knocking against his shoulder as her exhaustion wins out. Jasper remains still for a while after that, barely paying any attention to the random animated movie, afraid of waking the girl up. Eventually he moves her carefully so that she’s lying down more comfortably. Closing the laptop he moves to place it back on his desk when her hand shoots out, gripping his arm tightly.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he speaks quietly, his heart breaking at the flash of desperation—of fear—in her suddenly-open eyes, depositing the laptop on the ground and climbing back into his bed. It feels strange, to lie down beside this girl that he knows hardly anything about, but when she wraps her good hand around his, Jasper turns toward her, wrapping his fingers tightly around hers, returning the gesture. She is asleep again within minutes.

Multiple times he attempts to remove himself from his own bed. After all, he shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t be staring at this girl as she sleeps, entirely unguarded, her face swollen from what could only be a beating, and for a while he lies there, frozen in both anger and helplessness.

Because Alice is good. A sweet girl with nothing but a smile to offer and friendship to give.

When he wakes up late the following morning, he doesn’t know why he feels sour at her absence. Deep down he knew she wouldn’t be still lying beside him, but in some far off part of his mind, he’d hoped for it.

It’s when he’s sitting up in bed, orienting himself with his surroundings when he hears familiar laughter echoing from Rosalie’s room.

He’s up and in the hallway in seconds.

Rosalie’s door is propped open, and inside of her bedroom there are people. It seems during the few extra hours Jasper stayed unconscious, his sister had invited over company.

Emmett is sitting completely still in the chair of Rosalie’s vanity, far too big for the tiny white furniture, and looking ridiculous as Rosalie leans forward, carefully applying makeup to his large face. Bella Swan stands at her side, holding Rosalie’s iPad in one hand, displaying a picture of whatever look his sister is trying to achieve on the face of Fork’s High’s star linebacker, and in her other hand are a slew of makeup brushes.

Edward is standing closest to the door, recording the entire debacle on his phone while Alice, who is lying across Rosalie’s bed, still clad in her blue pajamas is laughing and laughing and laughing.

It’s such a strange group of people, he realizes abruptly. Jasper is only acquainted with Bella and Edward through the far-off lunch table they all share, since it’s the only corner of the cafeteria that offers an escape from the rowdiness of their classmates. Emmett, of course, he knows through Rosalie, and has always been a friendly, funny guy, but Rosalie has always been careful about who she lets into her social circles. Especially now.

And last Jasper knew his sister couldn’t stand the pretentious red-head in the grade behind them. But if Jasper knows anything, it’s to never underestimate Rosalie Lillian Hale, and quickly he realizes that in the time between her handing off pajamas to him last night, and this morning, she’s carefully calculated this entire thing. From the guests to the activity.

Because the only thing everyone in this room has in common, is Alice.

When she notices him, she sits up, grinning widely at him. The yellowing bruises on her face stick out sorely against her skin that is pink and flushed from laughter, but when she beckons him inside of the room, drawing everyone’s attention from Emmett’s face to Jasper’s presence, he can’t help but smile back.

He carefully turns down the invitation to be ‘next’, and when Rosalie remarks that there are plenty of photos in tucked away albums of their older cousins putting Jasper in makeup and dresses when they were small, the entire room of teenagers look delighted at that information.

“Oh, please tell me you have that album handy,” Alice exclaims, gripping his hand fiercely as she bounces on Rosalie’s bed.

“Hell no.”

“I’ll show you some other time,” Rosalie comments dismissively as she holds Emmett’s jaw tight in her hand. “Now, do we want to go more pink or orange-ish…?”

And that’s how their Sunday begins.

Eventually they make their way from Rosalie’s room into the living room and then soon they’re piling into Jasper’s and Emmett’s cars, after Bella’s stomach had rumbled and Emmett declared that it was time for food. Of course, he took every ounce of makeup off before they left, and Alice changed back into the clothes she’d arrived in the night before.

The day passes so quickly and it’s so fun that Jasper hardly realizes how much he’s enjoying himself until the sun is nearly down and they’re hanging out in the parking lot of the bowling alley they just played in. But Bella has a late shift at Newton’s and Emmett needs to take them back to his car, which is at Rosalie and Jasper’s house. Then Rose declares that she has a paper to finish tonight and suddenly the day is spiraling to a close.

“I’ll see you at home,” she nods at him as she climbs into the passenger seat of Emmett’s Jeep. He simply nods, waving at them as they pull away. 

And then it’s just him and Alice left.

He turns toward her after Emmett’s car disappears into the night, only to see her staring after the Jeep, a deep-set frown in her face.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, because he knows it has to be her decision now.

She steps up next to him and grabs his hand tightly, and that’s when Jasper feels her shaking again. He knows it’s not because of the cold; she’s finally wearing the jacket he’d given her the night before. But she’s shaking now and he doesn’t know what to do other than pull her against his side and hold her close.

“We can go back to my house,” he offers firmly, but quietly, as she nestles closely against him, her face pressed into his own coat. “You can stay as long as you want. I mean it.”

She shakes her head after a long moment. “I have to go home.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

She doesn’t answer his question.

Turn by turn directions are all she has to provide for him; she’s still so new to the town that even despite how small it is she only knows her way around when they’re close to the school. So he loops back toward Fork’s High and then Alice begins directing him from there.

They’re only a few streets away—surprisingly close to his house—when she grabs his hand suddenly. “Stop the car.”

Jasper slows the car down to a crawl, pulling it over to the side of the road. He doesn’t see anything that would cause her to erupt in fear like that; they’re still several yards from the next turn, bringing them toward where Alice said her house was.

“Here is fine,” she says in a hurry, unbuckling herself swiftly. When she starts to remove his jacket he reaches out and grabs her arm.

“Alice, that’s for you. Keep it, please.”

“I can’t,” she says desperately as she shimmies her arms out of the sleeves. It takes her a while to yank her left arm, cast and all, out of the jacket, but when she pushes it unceremoniously into his arms, he’s so confused. “Please, understand.”

“I don’t,” he says honestly, a little hurt by her actions, “that’s… that’s fine. Just—” he frowns, “how do you usually get to school? The bus?”

She shakes her head as she lifts her small bag up and throws it over her shoulder. “I walk. It’s fine, I’ll see you in school this week.”

He reaches out again, careful not to grab her broken wrist, and his hand lands softly on her shoulder. “Not tomorrow?”

Alice is anxious now, her eyes looking for something out in the dark, and Jasper hates this. Hates that she comes to him at night but doesn’t let him help. Hates that she does so much talking, but doesn’t reveal anything. Hates that he can’t fix whatever is wrong.

“I’m worried about you,” he eventually says when she flings the door open and moves to depart.

The look she fixes him with then is stern, and Jasper worries that he’s said something wrong.

Alice leans back into the car, and with her good hand she reaches toward him, cupping his cheek warmly, and stunning him into silence. He’s frozen for a few seconds, watching her every move cautiously, and when she smiles up at him, soft and beautiful, any other words he was thinking are suddenly wiped clear.

“Don’t.” And she’s gone in seconds, running off into the dark faster than he can keep up with his eyes.

He doesn’t go directly home afterward. Instead he drives around for a little while. Alice wouldn’t give him her address, and he’s almost nervous to accidentally stumble across her house now, so he steers clear of the residential streets. He’s halfway to La Push when he realizes he needs to go back home, because Rose will be waiting for him.

Rose and Emmett are waiting for him when he returns. It’s something that sort of surprises him, because as far as he knows, his sister has sworn off dating. Not that the two appear to be an item. But again: it’s not a secret that Emmett McCarty loves his sister.

When he walks through the door they’re in the kitchen, and their conversation dies when they note his presence.

“How’d it go?” Emmett asks, frowning from where he sits at the kitchen table across from Rosalie.

Jasper shrugs, turning to walk toward the stairs.

“Jasper,” his sister calls, standing up from the table. “Did something happen?”

“No,” he finally speaks. And it’s true. Nothing happened. No progress in their ‘friendship’. No discoveries on his part. Instead the status quo remains very much unchanged. He still doesn’t know how to help Alice, and she is still unwilling to let him in. 

It’s when Rosalie takes note of the small jacket under Jasper’s arm when she finally closes her mouth and nods, turning back to sit back at the table, looking strangely defeated.

He doesn’t sleep well that night, or the next.

The rumors start circulating quickly then. It seems that some senior was at the bowling alley with their parents on the same day they’d taken Alice out on her outing. Word quickly got around that the tiny girl looked like she’d been in a boxing match, bruised and broken and still missing from school.

The worst of the rumors made their way back to him through Edward. Some group of kids in the freshman class were apparently under the impression that her absence and physical state were due to Jasper’s actions. Of course, it is a widely-known fact now that Jasper has a ‘reputation for violence’; whether it’s misplaced or not isn’t for Jasper to decide. But that rumor makes him feel sick to his stomach.

It becomes so bad that, with his dad still away on work and his mom god-knows-where, Jasper stays home from school on Thursday. Rosalie doesn’t even attempt to rouse him out of bed, just accepting his keys and telling him she’ll see him after school.

It’s around noon that he forces himself out of his bedroom. He doesn’t have an appetite so he simply shrugs on his coat, pulls on his boots, and goes for a walk.

He wanders through the neighborhood for a while, down one street, up another, until he finds himself wandering through Tillicum Park. He used to come here more often when he was younger. It was the one place his parents would let him and Rosalie wander off to on their own. And then when he was in middle school a man in a van had pulled up beside some of his classmates and he and Rose had been forbidden from walking there alone after that.

It has been several years since he’s sat on the swings here. And as he wanders toward where he knows the play equipment is, he finds himself freezing in his tracks.

Because there is a little girl sitting by herself on the swings.

He looks around then, but it’s barely one o’clock on a Thursday afternoon, and this girl can’t be any older than seven or eight. He contemplates moving on with his walk—after all, it was barely a decade ago when his mother would shoo him and Rose out the door and off to the park—but something forces him to approach the child.

He doesn’t want to scare the girl, so he gives her a wide berth as he loops around to the front of the swings, approaching from where the kid can see him. And when she looks up at him, Jasper hates that her terrified expression is vaguely familiar to him…

But when she the fear disappears, relief is quick to take it’s place on her face. The girl smiles at him and releases her grip on one of the chains to wave at him. “Hi!” She exclaims, her legs dangling beneath her as the swing sways in the wind.

Jasper looks around then. “Hi there.” He doesn’t even see any cars parked in the lot across the way. “Are your parents around?”

She shakes her head as she starts pumping her little feet, and then she starts going higher and higher on the swing set. “No, my Mommy is dead,” she says matter-of-factly, and Jasper frowns at that.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says awkwardly, hands in his pockets as he keeps his eyes on the horizon, waiting for someone to come claim this child. Something in him tells him not to wander off. Sure, he doesn’t want to seem like a weirdo creep, talking to alone little girls, but he doesn’t want an actual one to come and snatch this girl up while she’s swinging here, all alone.

“S’okay,” she mumbles sadly as she swings back and forth. “I miss lots of people. And stuff. And my friends, too.”

“Is your dad around?”

“No,” she shakes her head, and a dark, angry look falls across her tiny features. “He’s at home being a jerk.”

“Are you supposed to be at home?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She kicks her legs angrily as she talks, “Not allowed to be at home. And I don’t wanna go to school.”

“You don’t like school?”

She shakes her head, still pouting as she swings back, and forth. “I told the teachers Daddy was being mean and then I got in trouble. And I told them not to say nothing!”

That revelation didn’t sit well with him. “Being mean?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds, her feet ceasing motion as she thinks to herself. Then, she’s pushing and pulling her feet back and forth again. “I’m not supposed to say things to adults, so you should go to your job or something.”

“I don’t have a job,” he offered, “but I didn’t go to school today either.” He looks around once more. “Is there someone I can call to come get you? Someone that’s not your dad?”

The girl shakes her head. “Alice isn’t allowed to. Dad says she has to stay at home so we don’t get in trouble again.”

Jasper’s entire world shifts with those words. “Alice?” He steps closer. That’s when he notices the little girls arms, full of brightly-colored beads, homemade bracelets that Jasper suddenly recognizes. “Is Alice your sister?”

The child nods, and when she pouts again Jasper suddenly realizes why this girl looks so familiar.

There’s a memory somewhere in his mind where Emmett revealed this little girl’s name, but that particular piece of information is out of his reach. “My name is Jasper. What’s yours?”

And then she says, “Cynthia Brandon” confirming his suspicions.

“Is Alice in trouble?” He begins to approach Cynthia then, but then stops and hesitates. Then, he walks to a swing several feet away and sits down on it. “I’m friends with Alice. We go to school together.” He digs around in his pockets then, knowing that he never had the nerve to actually attach it to his key ring, but when Alice had handed him a hand-made keychain a couple of weeks ago, he’d stuffed it into one of his jacket’s many pockets and forgotten about it. He finally wraps his fingers around the beaded thing and sighs in relief. “She made me this.”

The girl leans toward him, frowning as she studies the keychain he holds out toward her. “No,” she shakes her head, “I made that. Alice just takes them to school for her friends. But I definitely made that.” She sounds put-out by the idea that her big sister is stealing all the credit, and Jasper quickly backpedals.

“Oh, it’s very nice. Alice did give it to me though.”

“I know,” and then she’s smiling again as she kicks her feet. “When Daddy gets mad Alice puts me on her bed and lets me listen to all the music and make as many bracelets and keychains as I want while she talks to Daddy.”

“Does…” Jasper hesitates, “Is Alice alright? I’m very worried about her.”

“I’m not allowed to talk to people about what Daddy does.”

Jasper’s frown intensifies. “Because you’ll get in trouble?”

When Cynthia nods Jasper has to bite back a swear. He doesn’t know what to do now. It’s clear that something sinister is at play here, but with a little girl too afraid to say anything, and with Alice also refusing to give any hints as to what happens to her behind closed doors, Jasper is left lost.

But when his phone buzzes in his pocket, an idea strikes him. Retrieving it from his pocket he ignores the random email notification and, as quickly as he can, he types a message to Bella, placing as much urgency in his words as he can in a short text.

He stays there, sitting with Cynthia, chatting idly with the girl about her favorite way to braid and design her tiny pieces of ‘jewelry’, when Chief Swan’s police cruiser pulls up, parking in the lot behind them without the little girl noticing.

“Are you hungry?” Jasper eventually asks the girl, turning his head and nodding toward Bella’s dad when the man begins to approach, a random deputy at his side. “If I got you some food, would you eat it?”

“I’m always hungry,” she whines. “Alice was supposed to go to the market yesterday but then Daddy—” she slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide when she realizes that two policemen are approaching. “Oh, no,” she hops off the swings and scurries closer to Jasper. “Please tell them to go away,” she says in a whisper loud enough for the two cops to overhear.

“Hi Cynthia,” Charlie Swan smiles over at the girl, “how are you today, sweetheart?”

“Going home,” she declares loudly, reaching out and grabbing Jasper’s hand, quickly pulling him after her. “I’m going home now mister police man! Thank you! Goodbye!”

Jasper takes a few steps after the desperate little girl, turning to look at Chief Swan with a confused gaze. ‘What do I do?’ He mouths as the girl begins to drag him toward town.

‘We’ll follow’, Chief Swan mouths back, nodding to where the little girl is heading. Then, he places a hand on his partner’s shoulder and they begin moving back toward where the squad car is parked.

The pizzeria Cynthia drags him into is one he used to frequent as a child. The amount of birthday parties he and Rosalie had attended in the establishment were most likely in the double digits. His grandfather had been best friends with the owner of the place, and for years Jasper and his friends had been allowed to bring their report cards to the restaurant every marking period. Each ‘A’ entitled the kids to one free slice of pizza.

He leads Cynthia into a booth, sitting her in the side facing away from the parking lot. And minutes later when he sees the squad car park at the opposite end of the lot, he pulls his phone out again and starts texting Bella again. Thankfully she’s quick to send him her father’s number and for the first time since his arrest over a year ago, Jasper is willingly talking to a police officer.

He half-focuses on Cynthia as he starts texting Chief Swan every bit of information he has. It isn’t until Marnie—a waitress who has been working at the restaurant for as long as Jasper has been alive—brings them their order, a small cheese pizza to share and two lemonades, that Jasper realizes he has more information than he realizes.

Marnie gives him a serious look, glancing between the cop car and the little girl, and Jasper has to subtly gesture to the older woman that she needs to be quiet. When Cynthia is distracted with emptying more sugar packets into her lemonade, Jasper flashes the woman his phone. When the woman sees ‘Charlie Swan’ on the top she frowns and then nods, before retreating back into the kitchen.

You have to check on her, Jasper emphasizes more than once in his text messages with the Chief of Police of their tiny town. You have to go over there and make sure she’s alright. 

It’s nearly two hours later—and Cynthia is stuffed full of pizza, cookies, and one warm brownie sundae—when Chief Swan finally exits his vehicle and approaches the building. Jasper hasn’t heard anything from the man in over an hour, but he knows that they’ve sent a few of his people over to the Brandon residence to perform a wellness check.

Marnie and Steve—the owner’s son, and current manager of the establishment—cleared out the restaurant nearly an hour ago, so after the two policemen step through the door, Steve locks the door behind them and flips the ‘OPEN’ sign to read ‘CLOSED’.

“Hi Cynthia,” Charlie Swan speaks again, and Cynthia turns toward the door and lets out a pitiful whine. “It’s okay. Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise.”

“You can’t promise me that!” She shrieks before ducking beneath the booth and reappearing at Jasper’s side. “Go away! I’ll go home later! Leave me alone!”

Chief Swan leans down to eye level with the little girl, and when she grabs Jasper’s arm, hiding behind it, he doesn’t know what to do. “Well, Cynthia. I’m here to tell you that you aren’t going to be able to go home today. In fact, a good friend of mine is going to come by and talk to you, if that’s alright?”

“I want to go home,” Cynthia’s words began to wobble as tears begin to spring to the surface. “I want Alice. I want to go home.”

“Alice is getting some help right now,” and Chief Swan meets Jasper’s eyes quickly then, before looking away, “but when she feels better you’ll be able to see her, alright?”

“I wanna go home,” she cries, burying herself underneath Jasper’s discarded coat, where she continues to cry. “I wanna go home.”

It isn’t until Edward’s parents show up—somehow Jasper had forgotten all about the slew of foster siblings Edward had when they were young—and Esme Cullen spends a few minutes calmly talking to Cynthia, that the little girl appears more willing to go with them. 

When Cynthia is packed away into some random car with a borrowed booster seat Jasper turns toward Chief Swan. “Please tell me she’s alright.”

The man nods, and Jasper feels his shoulders deflate, relief almost suffocating. “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to say that if we’d waited another day or two to check, but their father is in custody and Alice is at the hospital.” The man fixes Jasper with a long look then. “I don’t know why, or how it is that I always find you at the center of these situations,” he remarks, somehow looking down his nose at Jasper, despite the fact he was a shorter man, “but you’re good man, Hale. Just make sure to talk to your parents about this.” He turned to walk away, “And thanks for not going rogue again this time.”

The underlying message was clear: ‘thanks for not trying to kill Mr. Brandon’.

When he walks through his front door an hour later, dragging himself up the stairs with heavy feet, he’s met with an avalanche of people suddenly. And when Rosalie’s arms are wrapped around his neck, he almost feels himself break down then.

“Tell us everything,” she mutters quickly against his neck, and that’s when Jasper realizes that Emmett, Edward, and Bella are all standing behind her on the stairs or in the hallway above.

He gets through the story slowly, starting with when he left the house and stopping when he realized that he was talking to Alice’s little sister.

“I’m so glad you texted me when you did,” Bella sighs. “I don’t usually have my phone on me during school, but it’s my Mom’s birthday, so I’ve been waiting on messages from her all day.”

“I knew something was up when Bella ditched English last period,” Edward comments from where he’s leaning back against Rosalie’s wall.

“Bella ditching class at all should be a red flag,” Rosalie remarks from her spot on her bed beside Jasper.

“Your parents have her sister, last I saw,” Jasper turns toward Edward as he speaks, as if hoping the younger boy could provide more information.

Edward nods. “They called a few minutes after I got here. They’re technically still registered as foster parents, so if they can’t get a hold of any other relatives in the area, I’m going to have some foster sisters soon,” he shrugs as if it’s no big deal to him to have Alice and Cynthia moving in. And the idea of Dr. and Mrs. Cullen taking care of the pair of girls is enough for force Jasper to look away from everyone, afraid that he might start getting emotional again.

Jasper stays home from school again the next day, and Rosalie does, too. It doesn’t take long for news to travel through the town of Forks and Jasper knows that if he hears any disrespectful gossip at school, he’ll likely be disappointing Chief Swan much sooner than anticipated.

He tries to visit Alice at the hospital but since there’s an ongoing investigation they turn him away at the front desk.

Joseph Brandon eventually calls one of them—the school must’ve finally gotten a hold of him about their absences—and gets the full story from Rosalie, promising to be home within the day and giving them permission to use the emergency credit card to get a bouquet of flowers sent to Alice’s hospital room.

When Monday rolls around he doesn’t want to go to school, but his father and Rosalie force him out of bed and down the stairs. He’s sort of glad he’s pushed out the door that morning, because when he returns home that afternoon, Mom is back, which means he’s missed out on a huge fight, and he’s relieved that at least it happened while he and Rosalie were at school this time.

The news of the newcomers—John Edgar Brandon and his two daughters—is such hot gossip around town that when Jasper and Rosalie come home one day to their mother’s belongings packed away in a U-haul truck, and some strange man helping her pack, the news doesn’t even make it to his classmates. Because the story of Joseph Hale finally kicking his unfaithful wife to the curb is something that the people of this town have been waiting for him to do for years now.

But the story of the twice-widowed John Edgar Brandon being arrested for abuse, neglect, and suspected murder, easily trumps the news of any simple extra-marital affair. Jasper hates the relief he feels, knowing that his deadbeat mother isn’t going to be the talk of the town, and instead the fact that John Edgar beat his eldest daughter within an inch of her life, is.

He’s been back at school for a full week when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. It’s nearly the end of the day; the bell is set to go off within minutes and he knows he won’t get a demerit if any teachers see him on his phone at this point on a Friday.

The first message is from Edward.

I told her not to go overboard. But he’s my apology in advance.

The second is from an unknown number.

hi jasper!!!!!!!!!!!!

 He pockets the phone with a frown, staring back at the clock on the wall before realizing that his teacher is wrapped up in conversation with a few kids on the opposite side of the classroom. Trying not to be seen he ducks out of the classroom swiftly, pulling his phone out of his pocket to stare at the text message again.

It takes him two more seconds to realize who is texting him and before he can stop himself he’s pressing the ‘call’ button and rushing out the front doors as fast as he can. As he listens to the phone ring on the other end the knot in his throat is so thick that he’s afraid he might choke if he tries to say anything.

“Um,” her voice on the other end of the line sounds like a miracle, and Jasper finds himself clinging to his phone even as he strides into the parking lot, rain pouring down heavily on his head. “Hello?”

“Alice?” He can’t keep his voice from cracking as he makes it to his car, struggling with the keys to open the door and make it inside. “It’s Jasper.”

“I know,” and her voice sounds so small, so unsure that Jasper’s chest hurts hearing it. “Esme and Carlisle got me a phone.”

“That’s amazing,” he finds himself smiling as he talks, slamming the car door shut once he finally manages to climb inside and avoid the downpour. “Is it hard to use?”

“Kind of,” her voice sounds raspier than usual. Whether it’s due to misuse or injury, Jasper is still unsure. He hasn’t heard anything about her physical state, yet. “Edward’s helping me a lot though. Which is nice.” Theres another pause. “He’s nice.”

“He is,” Jasper agrees, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. “It’s so good to hear from you, Alice.”

“Jasper,” she sounds sad, then, “I want to apologize.”

“What?” He sits up abruptly, his eyes open again. “Alice, no. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I lied,” she whispers, “so, so much.”

“No, you didn’t. You kept quiet to keep yourself safe,” his words are stern but kind. “That’s different.”

“I’ve made everyone so, so miserable,” and when her voice cracks, Jasper feels something in his chest crack right alongside it. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Alice, listen to me,” clinging to the phone with both hands he finds that he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to tell this girl and he doesn’t know how to repair something that neither of them are responsible for damaging in the first place.

The entire situation is a mess.

“Are you allowed to have visitors now?” He asks instead. “I’d really like to see you.” There’s a slight pause. “And Cynthia,” he adds on. “I’m not sure if she’s told you about our adventure the other week.”

Alice laughs then, “Yeah. She keeps telling me she likes my tall friend with the pizza.” Jasper smiles at that. “I told her I do, too.” Theres the sound of shuffling on the other line, and then Alice speaks again. “I’m… not sure if I’m allowed…”

“Can you ask?” Then, he realizes what he’s requesting of her, and changes his mind. “I can have Edward ask, I mean.” The idea of asking a parent for permission for anything is something he’s sure Alice has no experience in.

“Um, maybe, yeah. That might be better.” After a slight pause, she sighs into the phone. “I miss you.”

Jasper’s stomach does flips then as he deflates back down into the seat. He can hear the sound of the final bell going off in the background, but he’s too focused on his phone to care. “How about I text Edward, and see if I can come over later?” The idea of inviting himself over to the Cullen household is as bizarre as it is bold, but Jasper doesn’t care. He wants to see Alice, badly. “Maybe I’ll bring some pizza for you and Cynthia.” 

Alice giggles at that. “I think she’d really like that. Yeah, okay.”

It isn’t until minutes later when Rosalie wordlessly climbs into the passenger seat that he realizes he’s been crying. She gasps at the sight, leaning forward and grabbing his hand and demanding to know what’s wrong, and only when he wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands and shakes his head, telling her that Alice is safe and home, does she deflate, pulling him into a hug.

Esme Cullen declines his offer to bring pizza, but is happy enough to see him when he and Rosalie walk through their front door that night. Cynthia is excited to see him and wants to show Jasper her new bedroom, informing him that it’s ‘full of books and shelves’, prompting Rosalie and Jasper to share a strange look with one another and prompting Esme to quickly explain that they were still in the process of packing up her husband’s study to convert into another bedroom for the young girl.

The house is huge—easily one of the biggest homes Jasper has ever seen—and when they eventually reach the kitchen in the back of the house, Alice is already sitting at the table, her eyes wide and smile bright as they cross the room toward her.

“Alice! Alice! Your friends are here!” Cynthia exclaims before climbing into the chair beside her sister.

Alice laughs and looks over at her sister, beaming, “I see that! I’m so happy!”

“Me too!” The girl giggles before hopping down off the chair and running after Esme. “Let’s finish dinner now, please, please!”

Alice looks better than Jasper expected her to, if he’s being honest with himself. One eye is still quite swollen and what used to be her ‘good arm’ is in some type of sling, but her smile is bright and there is color in her cheeks. Judging by the ill-fitting button down Jasper can tell it’s a collarbone fracture, and even though he can’t see her legs, there is a wheelchair resting a few feet behind where she sits.

“Good to see you,” Rose smiles at the small girl, leaning forward to wrap Alice in a light hug. Alice looks delighted at such a reaction from Rosalie, even grinning excitedly over the blonde’s shoulder toward Jasper, and when she lifts her pink cast to give him a thumbs up, he has to refrain from laughing out loud. “I’ll have to drag Emmett by sometime this week. He can’t wait to see you.”

“Oh, please do!” Then, Alice freezes, turning toward where Esme and Cynthia are across the room, “I—I mean, if I’m allowed to.”

Esme’s smile is kind and her words are steady when she calls calmly toward the anxious girl. “Guests are welcome any time before eight PM on school nights and ten PM on weekends. Carlisle and I will let you know beforehand if we have any exceptions on any days.”

And with the gentle setting of boundaries Jasper watches as Alice calms visibly, her shoulders losing their tension as she turns back toward Rosalie and smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I want to see Emmett, too.”

“He might be over sooner than this week,” Edward chimes in as he enters the room, waving his phone toward them. “He and Bella are on their way now, apparently.”

Rosalie manages to look a bit irritated at that. “He didn’t tell me he was coming.”

“I thought you didn’t care what Emmett does with his free time,” Edward speaks knowingly. It takes Jasper several seconds to realize that Edward is teasing his sister. And not only that, Rosalie hasn’t retorted; instead, she’s turning bright red where she stands.

Oh. Well, that was certainly a development.

“I’m glad I planned on having leftovers,” Esme laughs good-naturedly from the kitchen. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Despite the unexpected guests, the dinner at the Cullen household goes like this: He manages to sit himself on Alice’s opposite side and hardly leaves it the entire night. She has difficulty picking up food with her fork, and even despite Esme’s insistence that she can help the girl Jasper insists on doing it. It’s when he realizes that most of the foods he’s scooping onto her utensils are soft, easily chewable things, that he wonders, as he helps her wrap her fingers around her fork again and again, what other unseen injuries she possesses.

Emmett and Rosalie insist on helping Esme clean up dinner, and Edward shows Jasper how to fold and unfold Alice’s wheelchair, before the younger boy helps Alice into it. Jasper feels nauseous as he sees that both of her legs are injured. Her left is in a cast up to her knee, and her right foot is in a black boot.

They’re ushered from the kitchen into a giant living room with a television so big that it makes Jasper wonder how they got it into the house.

As they wait for Emmett and Rosalie to join them Cynthia takes control of the remote as well as the trajectory of their night. Edward groans and Bella shushes him when the little girl announces they’re watching some animated movie Jasper knows nothing about, but after an hour into the film Emmett has declared that it’s his new favorite movie and Cynthia has declared that Emmett is her new favorite person.

They’re halfway through the sequel when the little girl finally passes out, one too many musical numbers zapping her energy. Esme laughs and Emmett remarks that his dance partner has underestimated her endurance as he helps collect the girl and carry her off to bed.

They turn the cartoon off after that and put on something a little more suitable for a group of teenagers. Some mindless comedy that Esme decides to forgo as she prepares to retreat to some other part of the house.

“Dude, your mom kicks ass,” Emmett whispers to Edward after Esme finally leaves them, bowls of freshly popped popcorn and pitchers of juice placed on the coffee table before them all. “What the hell?” He gestures to the TV and the popcorn. “HBO max and the gourmet buttered shit? You’ve been holding out on us, Cullen.”

“Edward’s spoiled,” Bella remarks with a grin as Edward turns to glare at his girlfriend, but when she pokes him in the ribs, causing him to jump nearly a foot in the air, they all laugh. “What? It’s true.”

The movie has barely begun before Jasper feels Alice begin to drift at his side. He turns toward her, hyperaware of her every movement, watching as she begins to nod off slowly, her head dipping and eyes fluttering shut every few seconds.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” He asks quietly enough that no one else hears him over the noise of the surround-sound in the room. But Alice shakes her head stubbornly before sitting up and adjusting the pillows beneath her arm in the sling. Then, she snuggles up close to Jasper’s side and lets out a long sigh.

“Not yet,” she mutters to him, even though her eyes are already fluttering shut again. “I want to stay here, please.”

Jasper barely pays attention to the movie after that. Instead he spends the next hour and a half letting his mind run rampant. His thoughts are so swept up in all things Alice that he hardly notices when the movie has ended and Emmett and Rosalie are standing up and stretching. Emmett starts to talk loudly before Rose smacks his shoulder, gesturing to where Alice is fast asleep at Jasper’s side.

They all slowly disperse after that. Rosalie hitches a ride home with Emmett, and before Edward leaves to drive Bella home he goes and fetches his mother to help Jasper move Alice to bed.

While Esme is unfolding the chair Jasper simply stands, maneuvering Alice into his arms as carefully as possible, all while trying not to jostle her too much. “It’s fine,” he whispers to Esme, shaking his head and gesturing for her to lead the way.

The room that has become Alice’s room is the only bedroom on the main level. Originally a guest room, Esme explains, it didn’t take much to transform it into the type of a room a teenage girl would love. In addition to the new cell phone, there’s a small desktop situated on a new-looking desk in the corner of the room, and there are pink and white twinkle lights cascading across where the walls and ceiling meet. The bedspread is also pink and white, and knowing that they’re Alice’s favorite colors, and that this room was hurriedly designed with her in mind, is enough to force Jasper’s throat to tighten up with emotion again.

The bed is low enough to make it easy for Alice to get in and out with minimal assistance, which means that Jasper has to bend down quite far to gently deposit Alice against the covers. Despite his care, she wakes up the instant his arms are back at his sides, sitting up with a gasp and then a wince, and when she cries out in pain both he and Esme are at her side.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Esme presses a firm hand between her shoulder blades, pressing forward until she’s sitting up straight. “There we go, good. Try not to bend sideways, that-a-girl.”

Gritting her teeth together Alice blinks up at the pair of them, visibly relaxing at the two people in front of her. “I need to pee,” she manages to rasp between pained gasps.

“I’ll go get her chair,” Esme says as she stands back up, swiftly exiting the room.

“Are you alright?”

Alice nods quickly, despite the pain apparent on her face. “Just hurts,” she wheezes as she closes her eyes. Reaching out she grabs for his hand, which Jasper is all-too-happy to give to her. Squeezing it tightly she manages a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“You’ll be alright,” Jasper sighs. And he means those words so wholeheartedly that it makes him emotional. Her injuries would heal, both physical as well as mental. It was so clear, in just the way that the Cullens had quickly outfitted their home to take in the two girls, that they would be safe here, and loved, and cared for.

Everything they hadn’t been afforded before.

“Is it after ten?” She asks, her eyes looking for the clock on the nightstand behind her. But when she tries to twist to see it and winces, she laughs. “I keep forgetting I can’t do that.”

“It’s nearly ten; 9:48.”

“That means you have to go soon, then.” 

He nods as Esme enters the room, wheeling her chair in and helping Alice scoot herself off of the bed and into it. “We’ll be right back,” the kind-hearted woman smiles up at him as she wheels Alice out of the room. “Carlisle will be home any minute now.”

True to her word, the sound of the front door opening and closing brings Jasper’s attention toward the hallway as he watches Carlisle Cullen move carefully through his home.

Upon sight of the teenager standing alone in Alice’s room he approaches with a smile. “Good to see you, Jasper,” and when the older man offers his hand, Jasper takes it firmly, realizing this is the first time he’s actually spoken to Edward’s father. “I heard you all had a fun night.”

“Yes, sir,” Jasper nods, “Dinner, some movies. My sister and I appreciate the hospitality.”

Carlisle smiles warmly. “And you’re both welcome any time. Friends of Edward’s, and of Alice’s, are always welcome here.”

Jasper is taken aback by how much he dislikes that particular statement. Thankfully, Esme and Alice return seconds later, but the idea that he is simply that—a friend to Alice, doesn’t sit right with him.

It’s a ridiculous reaction to have, of course. And he continues to think this even as he helps Carlisle move Alice out of her chair and into her bed. It isn’t until Alice releases her grip on his hand that he realizes the cause of his disdain for the title.

He isn’t friends with Alice Brandon. Not really.

He cares about this tiny girl far, far too much to use the word. And when she smiles up at him almost shyly when Carlisle kindly reminds the two that ten PM is as late as guests can stay, Jasper can’t help the heart palpitations he feels when she turns to the older man and promises she’ll let Jasper leave after she properly says goodnight.

Jasper can see the unamused look Carlisle gives his wife, but Esme is hiding her grin well as she grabs her husband’s hand and drags him from the room, even closing the door behind them both; a luxury that even Jasper’s lenient father never grants to him and Rosalie when they have guests over.

The alarm clock on the bedside table blinks a bright pink 9:57 at him, and he knows his time is nearly up.

Alice reaches over and takes his hand in hers, tugging slightly until he’s sitting on the bed beside her. Carlisle already propped her up on the pillows and blankets she’ll be sleeping on until her collarbone heals, so Jasper has to nearly crawl across the bed until he’s sitting at her side. And even though most of her injuries are now hidden from him with a blanket tossed over her, he knows they’re there. That her bones are broken and her injuries are still too extensive to even properly see all of them. That the state of her body is far worse than it was that night she came to him, lip and cheek bleeding as she quietly sobbed on the floor of his bedroom.

“I have so much I want to say to you,” Alice eventually speaks, her eyes staring at his hand as she grips it tightly. “But I know I don’t have a lot of time, so I think ‘thank you’ is good enough for tonight.” She stares intently down at his hand as she speaks, and Jasper is so hypnotized by the way her eyebrows furrow and her lips pucker when she frowns that he has to force himself to focus on her words. “If you hadn’t found Cynthia that day, and if you didn’t do what you did, I would be lying in a pool of blood in the basement of that house, dead right now.”

The sorrow that fills him, upon hearing those words from her mouth, is something Jasper can’t even begin to properly sort through. So when Alice continues talking, he files that feeling away, knowing he’ll need to process it eventually, but that right now, Alice and her words are what is important.

“I owe you a lot; not just my life. But explanations. And stories and,” Alice swallows and forces herself to look back up at him, “and I owe you. All the answers I have to give.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he needs to emphasize that before she makes up her mind. “You will never owe me a single thing, Alice.”

“Well, what if I want to volunteer the information? What if I want to tell you every little thing I couldn’t before? Every detail that was dangerous before?”

He stares back into her eyes, realizing for the first time that they’re a deep, dark blue color. “I’ll listen to any little thing you want to tell me, Alice,” he promises as he holds her gaze.

Alice releases his hand then, lifting her hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb against his skin as the palm of her cast presses against his face. “What if I tell you to kiss me?” She whispers, her gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips as she attempts to lean up.

“Are you sure?” He feels himself leaning down before he can even gather her reply, and the second she has enough of a grip on the back of his neck she’s pulling him down toward her.

“Please kiss me,” she whispers against his lips, and when he finally obliges her, she sighs against his mouth. It’s the most beautiful sound Jasper has ever heard.

The kiss is sweet, gentle, and far-too-short, as a sharp knock on the door forces him to draw back quickly, turning at the sound of Carlisle on the other side of the door, reminding them that it was after ten now.

Alice laughs when she hears Esme scold her husband, and then the two voices are far away when Jasper turns back down to look at her. “Oops,” is all he can think to say.

Alice’s laughter fills the room as she reaches up again. And when Jasper kisses her once more before pulling away, Alice sighs against his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He presses a kiss to the tip of her nose before nodding. “Tomorrow.”

“If visitors are allowed as late as ten o’clock,” Alice muses softly as Jasper crawls out of the bed. “I wonder how early they’re allowed…”

Jasper laughs, walking over to the side of the bed Alice is on before leaning down, capturing her lips in one final kiss. “I’ll ask on the way out.” And when Alice pulls him closer, deepening the kiss, Jasper scoffs at his own train of thought.

He and Alice Brandon definitely weren’t ‘friends’.

And that was more than enough for Jasper.

[xoxo-nikki-xoxo]

Part one

Hey everyone!! First part is finally here! Next part well me posted next week sometime. The date I haven’t figured out yet. I'll make sure to let you all know about 2 days before it goes up!

Warning: none

Word count: 1.5k words

Edited: I rewrote this chapter

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No one ever warns you what true living truly is, and the reason is because no one has ever experienced it. Expect the "people" who living forever. Which in my case happened to me about 154 years ago. It was 1851 when Carlisle saved me. All I remember is the coldness of the earth beneath me when he approached me. The feeling of the venom was, well painful. But you reach a part where your already in pain so pain the extra pain just makes you numb. I do not remember quiet what happened the next few days after. Truly the next days were crazy the feeling of the grass on my paws as I ran, kill anything insight. Carlisle had no clue what I would have become, how could he. He was only saving some random girl that was in the woods. Some weird science experiment is what Emmett like to call me; a mutt Rosalie would tell you. My transformation did not only just turn me into a vampire it triggered some gene in my blood. I spent the first 3 days in my werewolf state. Those days are all honestly one huge blur to me. All I know is when I finally faded back to normal (Human) Carlisle was there. Wrapping his trench coat around me. Over the next 50 years I learned to control my werewolf state, but I still struggle with my hunger. For the blo-

"Are you done yet? What's even the point of you writing your life story?" Emmett comments crossing his arms as he watches me put my pen down. He has a smirk on his face a he’s leaning up against the doorframe of my bedroom.

"Don’t you have Rosalie to go bother and spoon over. For your information this *holds up journal* keeps me from going insane. Plus, I heard on some tv show that writing down your life story helps you mentally I guess- You know what you don’t even care” I stated huffing closing the journal looking out at the forest. For some reason it calls me. The forest... I can hear all the sounds coming from it. The birds chirping, the sound of the wind rustling in the tree branches. Moving back to Forks we had hopes that the wolves would have disappeared. More importantly we hoped no one would remember the Cullen's. I never attended the school like my other brothers and sisters do. About 100+ years I still have not master the art of self-control. Me and Jasper have that in common. The blood it... I'm getting better with it. Emmet watches me for a second before he states.  

"We'll have a good writing day "Emmett says flashing me a smile before he disappears to the kitchen Shaking my head, I get back into my journal.

Blood. It is what I crave. All day. When I transformed back to my human state, I was covered in it. Carlisle was there though, he helped me. Just like he has helped the rest of our family. Carlisle is my father. But I cannot help but want to know who I am. Who was I before I turned? Did I have a family? A father and mother? Did I work? Why am I a werewolf. Or a hybrid/mutt as Rosalie likes to throw in my face. Why are my eyes purple?! I have never seen anything like it before. I am special. I have learned that keeping my existence know about quiet. No one outside my family truly knows about me. Sense I do not smell like a normal vampire or werewolf its unique. I am an outcast, and because of this I am considered to be the deadliest creature on the world.

Sighing I set my pen down and looking out at the window again thinking about what else to write. This is the point I have to write down everything. At least everything that happened yesterday....

I wondered if the wolves were still around. The last time my family was here we made a treaty with a tribe; they are called the Quileute's. I remember their leader pretty well his last name was Black. I am still so interested even now after what happened. They had a pack. I have never felt a true connection with anyone. I- I need to learn more about them still. About other werewolves. I need to find my past, and I found people that well help me do that. But I was considered an abomination to them as well. An outcast, not truly a werewolf, not truly a vampire and sure as hell not a human anymore.

I do not quiet remember why or how but I made my way out into the forest yesterday afternoon. After 5 minutes of running I released I was on my fours, and instead of skin I had fur, and hands and feet as paws. The wind running through my fur was only encouragement to keep running. This is my favorite part of living forever. The endless breeze I can feel. Before I knew it, I got to the river and jumped to the other side. I remembered exactly where I was now. It was the old treaty line we had with the Quileute's. But no one's seen the wolf's sense we left so if they must all have disappeared... And oh boy was I so-so wrong... I have never gotten a good exploring on this side. The side is vastly different from our side you could say. There were more animals, and this... It was a wolf scent? How could this be? But a wolf scent it was of course, I remember it like it was yesterday. It's easy to identify scent once you have smelled it first. With the dirt underneath my paws I was back to running. That is when I heard another howl. I had to find the source of that howl. It was calling to me almost like my primal instinct to feed on human blood. Tracking the howls where easy, the closer I got to it the louder the sound was. I am guessing this wolf scent was the source of the howling. Last time I remember actually seeing a wolf, let alone a pack was the day we saw the pack.  

It kept getting louder intel it stopped, and the howling turned into a growl.That is when I saw it. The dark hazel eyes of a wolf much taller than me, fur of a jet-black color. With two extra wolf's flanking on the either side. Then 3 more, 1 more. There is no turning back now. My life was never going to be the same after that, and I was right staring into the eyes of a fully grown pack.

Their back

The growling presided and when I glanced over at the other wolves my eyes got caught up on one of the. His hair was a dirty grey, around the eyes was a tanner color. His eyes softened up and a small whimper passed his mouth. It felt like the world had just stopped, and it was only the two of us. My brain was so flooded with tons of emotions both positive and negative.  

Before I could try to figure anything out though all the wolves they started to back up, expect the one I was staring at. I have to get to know him, is it even a him? I have thousands of questions for him. I heard a voice in my head it startled me at first but became a voice of relief after.

“I don’t know who you are... But I need you to fallow me” That was all I heard before the wolf turned around and walked slowly. Was that him I just heard, he looked over his shoulder before making a gesture for me to fallow.

“Who are you?” I stated standing my ground as I watched him.

“I'll tell you anything you want to know. Just... You know what how about this, well meet at the beach down in La Push in about one hour. I'll see you then” That was all I got before he vanished off into the woods leaving me speechless about everything that was happening to me. So, I did what I was told, I decided to head back home like a good girl I was. Sneaking back inside the house was easy. All I had to do was jump back into my window. That was of course because I was in my human form.  

Getting to La Push beach was easy, all I had to do was simple drive there. I haven't felt this feeling for decades, anxious for what was about to happen... He’s a wolf which means he has a human form... somehow though I manage to control my thirst that night. He was a gentleman at first at least. He is tall standing around six foot something. Muscular as hell but oh boy was he a fine man to lay my eyes on.

“You must be the girl... The one out in the woods...” He started off glancing in between me and the ground. “My names Paul... And I know this is going to sound strange but... Your life about to change” He states meeting my stare.

“Yes, my names Dystany”

And what happens next... well I'll tell you later

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Rosalie make brain go brrrr

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Absolutely!! I've got the extended editions for extra cringe!!