I don’t even have it in me to try for this intro. Virginal Bella Chapters 31-36.
“Edward is there a reason why you have stopped calling me Bella?” She asked looking very sad which broke my heart.
Here it comes. This is going to be amazing! I can’t wait to hear his explanation for why he refuses to call her by her nickname.
“I call you Isabella, it might seem stupid, but I kissed you as Bella and we got in this situation which I will never regret
ever. But if I continued to call you Bella I would lose all will power
and kiss you so hard and deep that you would still feel it a week later.
What is he going to do that she’ll be feeling it a week later? Kiss her with a sledgehammer? No judgment from me. I’ve wanted more than once to take a sledgehammer to her stupid, virginal face.
So that is why I have started to call you Isabella and will continue until our wedding. I love you so much.” I explained to her.
I can understand his point. Nothing turns me into an uncontrollable sex fiend like using a girl’s nickname. I’d say something about Edward being a potential rapist given that bit about his “will power,” but the kid is so repressed, he’s probably leaking hormones out of his ass by now.
“I love you too, so much Edward if you need to call me Isabella so that it is less stress on you then, I’m ok with it.” Isabella said smiling.
That’s right, bitch. The man has spoken, and you shall obey.
On that note, it’s stressful to call her Bella? Edward needs to jack off more if this causes him stress. I’m not sure that qualifies even as a first-world problem.
Once we finished eating I stood up to throw our rubbish out and I saw dad walk in and up to the table where Isabella was sitting at. I joined them.
This story is rubbish. And Americans say “trash,” “garbage,” or “Chris Brown.” Not “rubbish.”
“Ok ready to go home and meet your child for the first time?” he asked.
The thing is ready to be born already?! Or does he mean through the ultrasound picture? If looking at a picture constitutes “meeting” someone, then I’m very close friends with Scarlett Johansson. Close, intimate friends. And just about every person that’s ever done porn, too.
“Yes please Carlisle.” Isabella said standing up, she quickly covered her mouth with her hand and ran towards the bathroom I started to follow her when dad stopped me.
“Edward you can’t follow her as she is in the female restroom. I will go check on her in a few minutes if she hasn’t come out.” dad told me.
Author, you cannot write as this story is a fucking atrocity. WHO TALKS LIKE THAT?! Here’s a tip for writing dialogue: read it the fuck out loud when you’re done. If it sounds absolutely stupid, then it probably is! Re-write and repeat the process until it doesn’t sound like the idiotic drivel above.
“What is wrong with her?” I asked with my eyes never moving from the location I last saw her.
Dude, she just had a burger with fucking beets in it. I’d run for the toilet and puke my guts out, too. Who wouldn’t?
“Edward it is just the beginning of morning sickness it is an everyday part of being pregnant” dad explained. Oh thank
god she was ok, I looked up at dad as I had collapsed with worry.
Way to drum up the drama there, author. Bitch is puking, “OH MY GOD! I’M SO TERRIFIED AND WORRIED! SHE MIGHT DIE FROM DEHYDRATION! AAARRRRGGGGHHHHHHH!” *yawn*
“Dad please go and check on her I am so scared.” I begged him.
You’ve been filling her up with so much bullshit; are you scared she’s going to explode?
“Ok Edward let me go talk to the manager.” He said and I put my head in my hands again silently praying to god that she was ok.
If you’re going to talk to the manager, I hope it’s to complain and ask whose fucking dumb idea it was to put beets in a fucking Big Mac.
“Edward it is ok, I am ok.” I lifted my head and saw Isabella standing in front of me with her hand out waiting for me to take it which I did standing up I pulled her into a tight hug.
Is Edward going to act like a giant pussy every time Bella barfs? Because if so, he’s in for a surprise when she pushes a watermelon out of her virginal hole!
Dammit, I knew it! Holding hands is a gateway contact. Now they’re hugging! Next thing you know, they’re giving each other Cleveland steamers. It always starts with the hand holding.
“God Isabella I was so worried.” I said into her neck.
“Stay strong for me please if you need to break down then do so in the car, if you start crying now you will make me cry as well.” She pleaded with me.
Translation: QUIT BEING A PUSSY! When the pukey pregnant lady is telling you to be strong, you know her vagina has bigger testicles than you.
I pulled my head away from her neck and glanced at her. I used my thumb to wipe away a tear that escaped from her sad eyes. I took a deep breath and nodded I grabbed her hand leading her out ofMcDonalds.
At the car I opened the back door of the car and helped Isabella into the car, I shut the door and walked to the other side and got in.
This chapter could have caught on fire and died and I wouldn’t have noticed. It’s THAT irrelevant.
“Ok I will meet you in my office in five minutes” dad said walking away. I walked around the car and opened Isabella’s
“Isabella are you hungry? I could make you something, anything.” I asked her.
She just stuffed her virginally pregnant face with McDonald’s. She doesn’t need to get fat any sooner than absolutely than necessary. Get her some water and a rice cake, you pussy-wiping bitch.
“Can you find some dry biscuits please.” she requested.
As opposed to a wet biscuit? That sounds kinky, or if she means food, then it’s just gross.
Oh. Ooohh!!! The Sultana of Researchia means crackers!
“Sure” I said walking in to the kitchen and into the cupboard and I made her a plate of the biscuits and a few other dry
The Cullens keep a variety of dry snacks laying around the house. How Deus Ex Munchina of them.
I walked into the living room and found her watching an episode of ’19 and counting : The Duggar Family’ this was a perfect time to talk to Isabella about her wants.
She’s watching a show about a lunatic religious fanatic that believes her purpose in life is to treat her uterus like an assembly line for brain-washed replicants. This is indeed the best time to ask Bella what she wants; most likely, she dreams of emulating Henry Ford’s greatest disciple.
“Isabella, uuumm how many kids do you want to have?” I asked her.
“I would like five or six would be a nice number, don’t you think?” she offered.
“Five or six.” And counting. How about you get through this pregnancy before you start planning the brood?
“That sounds like a perfect number for us, what would you like to do after we have our six kids in terms of birth control?” I questioned.
Birth control? Big no-no, heathen! You part-time at Hobby Lobby, you should know better, Edward. It’s anti-Jesus to prevent pregnancy. Just ask the pope. Well, not this pope, but previous popes. This pope is actually kinda cool.
Besides, what else is there to do? Pop six kids, then pop six more. When your uterus shrivels up , die and go to heaven. The way these two are going, it’s unlikely that they’ll provide any great contributions to humanity anyway. Breed, my little minions! Breed!
“I want to go on it as soon as it is safe for the last child that we have.” she told me.
Look at that— one of those rare signs that this was written by an adult.
“BELLA, EDWARD” dad called softly from his office. So I stood up offering my hand to her then we walked in to dads’ office and sat down in the chairs that his guests used.
He runs his practice from his house? And from the hospital? And owns 80% of a ski shop? And has the money to make all three of his adopted kids wealthy for the rest of their lives? Fuck Edward, Carlisle is the perfect man.
“Ok kids I discussed your scan with a colleague because I couldn’t trust my eyes, your story is incredible as it is, and they confirmed my findings.” he told us handing me a eight by ten photo face down.
Author, I say this to both you and your “beta:” the word is an, not a —“handing me an eight by ten”. When the following word begins with a vowel you use the word an. A duck, an owl, a cat, an urchin, a cow, an echidna, an idiot with appallingly poor control of the English language. Anybody who can’t correct that rule shouldn’t be helping a third grader with their writing assignments, much less beta this colossal piece of shit.
I turned it face up and saw three, four, five white little marks in a white circle.
Oh, look at that. Bella is having multiple babies. And exactly the number they were just discussing that they would like to have… Forgive me for getting a little antagonistic, but what the fuck were you going for here? Were we supposed to be shocked that this happened with three lines of dialogue between the ultrasound reveal and the discussion about how many children they’d like? Honestly, stop taking your story construction instructions from daytime soap dramas.
8×10 photo? I’m hoping you went full retard again and forgot that your characters aren’t Aussies. 8×10 centimeters is tiny, but 8×10 inches is almost letter size. You know, the paper you put in the printer? Keep track of your shit, and if you can’t then have it take place in more familiar territory.
“Say its true dad I won’t believe unless you say its real” I begged of him I would look at him and then back at the photo then back at dad.
I’ve ignored 34 chapters of awful punctuation. But seriously, I’m drawing the line here.
“Say it’s true, dad. I won’t believe it unless you say it’s real.” That’s a missing comma, two apostrophes, and a period in what was supposed to be one sentence. Don’t even get me started on the next one. I can imagine a lot of people write like this before a beta gets to it, but for fuck’s sake, this shouldn’t be slipping past anybody that’s offering their services as a beta.
“We are having five children?” Isabella asked sounding like I felt.
Sounding like I felt… And how does he feel? We’ve got two people who are feeling the same way, but we don’t know what way that is.
“Yes Bella, Edward you are having five children.” dad said sitting back in his chair.
Five immaculately conceived children. I saw the multiples thing coming back when he told Charlie something along the lines of “I’ve got a trust fund, and I can take care of Bella no matter how many children we have, immaculately or otherwise.”
I’m at a loss here. As I’m reading this story I feel like a woodpecker trying to burrow through a mountain with the top of my skull.
“Dad would you mind if we talk alone?” I asked him.
Yes, he would mind. The last time you two were left alone in that house she immaculately conceived five times and even though they say it, nobody seems the least bit surprised by it. Whatever happens now could only be so much worse. Although, if we’re all lucky, this time around the Hindenburg will travel through time and crash on top of their house consuming them all in flames.
“Not at all Edward, if you have any questions during your talk write them down I will discuss them all when you call me back in.” dad said.
C’mon, fiery ball of death!
“Dad when you come back will you please bring mum with you when you do?” I asked him.
then waited for the door to shut.
C’mon, burning airship falling form the sky and making this the last time I have to correct “mum” to “mom.”
“Isabella do you have any questions you want to ask dad?” I questioned walking around the other side of the table sitting down in dads chair opening a blank word doc on Carlisle’s laptop.
He needed Carlisle to leave so he could ask this?
“When is the due date of our children?
Earlier than nine months, to be sure. But let’s see if the author thought of that.
When will we be able to tell the gender of them?
When they’ve got dicks and ‘giners. Duh.
What do we need to do for the safe delivery of our children?
Have two or three of them aborted, put them in a woman who isn’t built like Kristen Stewart, and most importantly, don’t rely on god to get them out of you alive. With some parts of the developing world still having a 1 in 6 chance of a childbearing woman dying from pregnancy-related complications, put your faith in the doctors that make safe births in the first world possible.
How long will it take my body to heal?
After five babies at once? It’s never going to be the same again, sweetie.
Which birthing method will be best?”
Umm, not vaginal. You’ll need to cut them out.
she said as I typed up each question adding a few of my own, I typed up about bed rest and how will it affect the our schooling.
Who gives a fuck, Edward? You’re rich. Don’t you remember saying that you aren’t going to work as an adult unless Bella wants you to because you have a trust fund? Why the hell would you waste your time with school? We’ve already ascertained you have the ambition and drive of a mollusk, you’re illiterate, and you believe in fairy tales. You aren’t going anywhere kid, don’t even try.
Once I had all the questions ready I stood up and walked over to her.
“Isabella I am so happy thank you so much for giving us our children.” I said to her.
Damn right you thank her. She’s doing all the work. I can’t wait for when she wants some ice cream in the middle of the night and shouts, “Get off your ass, Edward, and bring me some snacks! I’m making five people over here, so make that a gallon!”
“I love you Edward thank you for our children” Isabella said pulling my head down and was about to kiss me on the mouth but before our lips could touch I broke her hold.
First of all, Edward hasn’t done shit. He’s like that heirloom piece of furniture that every family has—it doesn’t serve a purpose, it won’t fit anywhere, and everybody argues over who should have to take care of it, but they keep it around because it’s just what you do. That’s how I feel about the Edward in this story.
And fuck off with this “we can’t kiss” shit.
“No Isabella, please no last time we kissed I got you pregnant with our five children. I am scared if we kiss again that we will get five more children its not that I won’t love them the same as the first, it’s that I don’t think I will be able to handle ten at the one time. Please remember that I love you with everything that I am, I am unable to breath without you close by.” I told her.
Carlisle already told this fucking idiot that you can’t get pregnant by kissing, so now not only does he still believe that shit, he also thinks that she can get pregnanter! I’d have laughed my ass off at this if it were making a satirical statement about the ridiculousness of abstinence only education but it isn’t this fucking shit is serious. Imagine if every couple who’s pregnant added babies in each time they kissed? This is so unimaginably moronic, I don’t even have words strong enough to express my outrage that someone sat their fat ass down and wrote this heap of Chris Brown.
You won’t be able to handle ten at a time? Really, Edward? Bella’s tiny seventeen year old body is supposed to handle ten at once, but you don’t think that you can handle them? Can you imagine if they’d actually had sex? She’s be pregnant with at least twenty-five.
“I’m sorry Edward I won’t try again until you are comfortable with it.” Isabella said looking so sad.
Of course she’s sad; she’s been knocked up by the village idiot. The town drunk would have been a better option than the guy whose future career involves wagging his penis at cars passing on the highway.
“Oh baby I love you so much I am just so very scared this is a huge change for both of us. Lets sit down and talk about what we want.” I suggested.
What the fuck! Why on earth do we need to have this discussion again? I hate this fucking story. I fucking hate it. I wish I could burn down the internet and make this stupid shit cease to exist. It is pointless and filled with the most ass backwards and weird religious crap that I’ve ever seen. Honestly, and I mean honestly, honor killings and clitoral amputations make more sense than this horrible story. And god damn it, I’ve got two more chapters left in this fucking review.
“Yes lets.” Isabella said sitting down holding out her hand. I pulled the chairs closer and took her and and weaved out fingers together.
So Edward knows how to “weave out” fingers together now? That’s a very “unique” talent.
“Ok what would you like to do about school?” I asked.
Please, oh time-space continuum gods, please bring me a burning blimp. As soon as possible. I’ve taken out a title loan so that I can buy a soul to sell for this gift. 400% interest is well worth it to make this end.
“I would like to go for as long as possible before I start to show and then maybe your dad could give me a note so that I could finish the year with the rest of my class.” Isabella said.
What does that mean? I feel like the author meant that Bella would like to actually be in classes until she starts to show and everyone realizes she’s a whore, and then she can finish the year at home or something. But that’s not what she said. She needs a note to stay in school? What would that note say? “Student Isabella Swan may be a hussy, but it would be unconstitutional to prevent her from attending class. This is on my doctor’s authority. I own 80% of a law firm, so you’d better do what I say.” I’ve been out of high school for a long time, but if I remember correctly, I don’t think you need a doctor’s note to go to class, only to miss it.
“I’m sure dad can arrange that.” I told her.
I’m betting he owns 80% of the school, too.
“Edward would you like any more kids after this five?” she asked.
“Fuck no, I’m planning on selling any of them that come out with Carlisle’s blonde hair and blue eyes as it is,” Edward said listlessly. He was often listless as he had no discernable personality.
“Honestly no not really. I think five is a good number like we discussed before.” I told her.
Sorry, chum, but we’re overpopulated as it is. Maybe try one or two.
“Isabella would you like a house close by in either Idaho Springs or Central City?” I questioned.
“I’d prefer to live in Australia where the way we’ve been written makes sense. Also my south-up globe will be a political statement about not coming from the bottom of the world, and not just a novelty item,” Bella giggled, showing the slightest hint of a personality.
“I would be happy with either maybe a house with a minimum of 10 bedrooms a huge kitchen a theater room.” She informed me.
Holy fucking shit… Aint sayin’ she’s a gold digger…
“That sounds perfect Isabella” I told her.
That sounds like a huge waste of somebody’s hard-earned money. Not yours of course, because you’re the most useless pair of human beings that I’ve ever had the misfortune to know, in fiction or otherwise.
“Do you want to get your dad so that we can get our baby questions answered?” Isabella asked.
Thank you, Bella, for ending that excruciating conversation.
“Sure” I said standing up walking to the door and walked into the kitchen as I heard voices coming from there.
Where’s my fucking flaming fiery ball of death?! I’ve been told that if I prayed for it, it would happen. I don’t see my time-traveling Hindenburg anywhere. I feel cheated. I even went so far to provide a soul at great personal expense, and still nothing! Well, my short foray into religion is now officially over. Back to my heathen ways it is.
“Hi mum and dad. Dad we have some questions for you to answer and we both would like to discuss our plans for our future.” I told them and they both stood up following me into dads office where I grabbed the spare chair and placed it beside her chair she took my hand and laced our fingers together.
And use a fucking comma.
“What are your questions?” dad asked.
“They are on your computer just move the mouse.” I told him and he did, we all watched him look over them.
“Those are well thought out questions.” Dad said smiling at us looking proud as punch.
Okay, I’ll try one more time. Ha-Satan, please send a fiery ball of death and blast this story from existence. Amen.
“Ok lets get started it looks like you conceived on the 13 of December so your due date will be the 20th of June 2014.
Seven? Seven fucking months with five fucking babies? Are you, in fact, fucking kidding me? Carrying twins to terms is enough of a challenge. Good luck with your litter, bitch. Get it? “Bitch?” Word play always puts a smile on my “face.”
We might be able to tell the genders of your children around the 18th of April I do say might as they might be too small or in the wrong position to see.
This sentence is an atrocity committed upon the English language. There will be obelisks erected, names carved into walls, copious amounts of tax dollars spent to make sure that we do not forget this day, or the people whose lives were destroyed by this sentence.
Ok on to the next question the simple answer is tell me what you feel straight away nothing you tell me will be stupid or silly as one thing could mean a lot of things, and I will give you as many options as possible” dad said.
You only say that, Carlisle, because you apparently don’t know these two very well. Almost everything they say is stupid, and nothing they say is silly.
“I feel my belly flutter every now and then.” Isabella said speaking up making dad smile.
Give me a fucking break. She’s at most a nine or ten weeks pregnant. She isn’t feeling them move; they barely have limbs! I’d say this idea comes from some crazy, biased pro-life article that claims some anecdotal evidence as proof that medicine, science, and people who aren’t willing to believe whatever you tell them are wrong, and the irrational crazies have been right all along… but that would be saying she did any kind of research, and I’m not willing to make that claim.
“That would be your children moving around, ok back to the questions, only your body will know how long it will take to heal.
What? Carlisle’s aware that fetuses don’t start as tiny, fully-formed people that just get bigger until they’re born, right? Five lumps of cells the size of a thumb are not swimming around in there.
I think we will go with a caesarean to birth your children.
Finally something that makes sense.
Bed rest will come and go depending on how Bella feels, and for your schooling Edward your’s should not change unless it will benefit Bella’s health and the health of your children, Bella we will be pulling you out of school and you can finish school by correspondence when that happens depends on how you are handling school and your pregnancy.” dad said.
Umm, bitch, you are not my father. Whether I stay in school is not your fucking decision. Fuck you for being so presumptuous.
On top of that, “your’s” Fucking seriously. The possessive of a possessive? Either the author wants us to know that Edward’s education belongs very much to him, or that both she and her beta are unaware that “your’s” is not a word.
“Would it be best to move in to your house so that I am close to you and Edward during our pregnancy? Isabella asked looking down afraid that she overstepped the stay pure before marriage line.
There’s is nothing wrong with this sentence. This is, in fact, a masterpiece.
I didnt want to get my hopes up but please dad I would love to be able to wake up and see Isabella sitting at the dining table every morning and her being the last thing I saw before going to sleep each night.
…Boys don’t talk like that. They’re stupid, hungry, and horny creatures that think of nothing else until necessity deems it so. And as we see all over the place, knocking some girl up does not make a boy into a man.
“Yes Bella that would be best as this pregnancy might become a difficult one with in minutes, Edward you can make a pallet on her floor so that someone is with her at all times.” dad said making my dream come true and improving it tenfold.
That’s stupid. Everything about it is stupid. I don’t like this story. It makes my brain stab itself with a shank made of skull cavity shavings. If you were to open up my head and take out my brain you’d find “Brooks was here” carved into the brain case, because I’m hilarious, but underneath that it would say “But seriously, I’m killing myself over Virginal Bella. Later, ass face.”
My next review will not be Virginal Bella. I’ll finish it, but I need a break. I’m not trying with this closing, either, by the way. Fuck Virginal Bella.