Saturday, May 30, 2009

What Bella Did After Seeing Robert Pattinson Semi-Naked In Italy

JJ says I need to shut the fuck up about the on-set pics from when they were filming in Italy last week [not that I need to clarify which pics I am referring to here - I am sure "the pics" would have sufficed but I digress...] or she is going to march over here to force me to look at them. But if I get something wrong about any of the related details here, forgive me. I haven't seen the photos. I am saving myself like it's my Twilight virginity and the wedding's not until November (I have apparently undergone some sort of "Twilight revirginization"), but I practically had to slap a chastity belt on my computer for a few days there.

Regardless, believe me: I got the general gist of the situation. The day those pictures came out, I swear our blogroll changed from Twilight fansites to something sounding more like it belonged to Dicklicker Productions. There was definitely a collective change of panties on that day and some brilliant person out there called it 'the orgasm heard round the world'. I'm pretty sure if our blogroll could speak, it would be moaning, squealing and groaning with the rest of us. Here are a few choice excerpts taken from the Twitarded blogroll on May 27, a day which will live in Twilight infamy:
Reunited and it feels SO good!

Fell Out of my Chair Again Today...


Deposit This in your Spank Bank!

There He Is!

Too Much!

You will Die. I did.


Hubba Hubba!

Team Edward VERY Shirtless!


And my personal favorite that sums up everything neatly without even saying a word:

So I did what I always do in dire situations like this: I went to YouTube and watched some Robert Pattinson/Edward Cullen hotness for a while until I calmed down (a little. I was, after all, still ogling my fave inappropriate crush dude). And I found the videos below - all made by Starlight88, who rocks! I know a lot of you have seen some version of this in the past, but I encourage you to watch them all since I think her versions are the best, plus she captured Bella'a "o-face" quite nicely imho. Judge for yourself:

Here's the original Edward version... This is the BEST!

...and because there's no such thing as too much Twilight & Edward Cullen here at Twitarded (and because Starlight88 had a lot of awesome videos to choose from - definitely go check them out!), here's another video she made to the "Like a Boss" SNL short music:

P.S. We all know Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart are probably boinking each other's brains out 24/7 (I read it in the tabloids so it MUST be true!) so she's probably seen all that (and more! sigh...) already. Otherwise she would have went as nuts as we all did last week. Ha! That PROVES it! She just outed Robsten Pattinstew!!

Friday, May 29, 2009

15 Step - Chapter 3 Twilight Fan Fiction

Achtung! This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction, so go on easy on me, okay? At least use a little verbal lube before you tear into me.

For the newbies this is the third chapter. If you want to start, go here.

15 Step is going to be posted chapter by chapter. I don't intend on it being too long but... we'll see. This story is Bella's POV. Everyone is a human. I did attempt to keep a decent amount of the original stories in this tale.

Oh, and as always - thanks STY. You're the wind beneath my wings (and you're old if you get the reference... like us, dammit)

Disclaimers - The characters, naturally, are Stephenie Meyer's and I've just warped 'em a little to suit our, er, "needs." The titles of the chapters and anything in italics do not belong to me, either. The titles are actually song titles and the italicized bits are pieces of lyrics that I've pulled from songs.

And, this goes without saying, these stories are intended for mature, adult readers. Well, adult, at least. Eighteen and over only.

Author's notes to follow story.



Monday morning arrived wet and dreary as I dragged myself down the stairs and out to the truck. Charlie was long gone, probably down at the station. I was thankful that he left before I got up – it made keeping conversation to a minimum much easier.

I couldn’t help but seek out Edward’s Volvo as I coaxed the truck through the parking lot. I found it, dwarfed by some monstrosity of a jeep that looked like it could run over a small tank. Jessica and Mike stood not too far from it, leaning against a blue van and chatting with some other kid whose name I couldn’t be bothered to remember. As she did every morning, Jessica waved wildly, gesturing for me to come join them. I gave her an obligatory short wave back and skirted around the building, hoping to avoid any sort of conversation. The girl just couldn’t take a hint - I wasn’t interested.

My thoughts were still on Jessica as I climbed the steps, feeling a little hyper-conscious of the throngs of kids moving around me. Any day now hows about getting out of this place/ Anyways/Got a lot of spare time/Some of my youth/and all of my senses on overdrive… I reminded myself sternly that I only had to endure this for another year before I could start my own life. High school was merely a transitory stage.

Edward came into view as he turned the corner and I looked at him, wondering if he was going to say something to me. Emmett, his brother, walked next to him, massive and intimidating. Edward glanced at me quickly, expression inscrutable, before shouldering past me and murmuring something to his brother, who laughed loudly. My cheeks flushed and I picked up my pace in the opposite direction.

So that’s how it was going to be. No problem. Ignoring people was what I did best. Angrily, I twirled the lock on my locker and slammed my books inside. Then I headed to Biology with every intention of pretending like the person sitting next to me did not exist. As the late bell rang, however, Edward’s seat continued to remain empty. Seething, I realized Edward must have cut class, kyboshing my plans.

I couldn’t shake the annoyance as I walked absently to my truck, barely aware of climbing inside. I pushed my book bag up against the driver side door and stretched out across the bench seat, my boots resting against the passenger door, flipping idly through my iPod, unable to decide on a song to listen to. Frustrated, I gave up after twenty minutes and stomped off to English.

While part of me was relieved Edward had chosen to ignore me, another part was oddly disappointed and, as the English teacher droned on in front of the class, I mulled over this revelation, twisting it around in my head.

“Miss Swan?” The teacher’s voice broke through my thoughts. '

“Er, yeah?”

Her lips twisted into a moue of disapproval. “Would you like to tell me your thoughts on this novel?”

Fuck. The class turned to watch me and I blushed hotly, especially when I realized the tiny black haired girl who was calling Edward last week was staring at me intently.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I didn’t read the chapter.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to mark you as a zero today then, Miss Swan.” The teacher swung around to her desk and scribbled something on a pad.

“Whatever,” I heaved under my breath. Her head snapped up.

“Excuse me?” Her tone was dangerous.

A brief internal battle ensued; while one part was begging me to keep my mouth shut another egged me on. As usual, the latter won.

“I said, ‘whatever’,” I replied in a petulant manner. That good part of me groaned and left me alone with only a devil on my shoulder.

“Is there something wrong with the novel?” The teacher took on that simpering timbre that adults do when they know a kid is going to get herself in a whole lot of trouble. As usual, I took the bait.

“I just don’t see the point in reading,” I glanced down at the title, “Wuthering Heights. I mean, who cares? This isn’t going to help me later in life. It’s just some bullshit story.”

The class tittered at my language and I gathered my books together, already knowing what the teacher was about to say.

“Go to the office!” She seethed at me. I was already out the door. This is the ballad of the young offenders/Leave no manifestos/ save graffiti in the train yard/ These legs were made to run...

Edward smirked at me when I walked into Biology class the next day and I knew the black-haired girl had told him what happened. I dropped my textbook heavily on the desk, slumped into my chair, and waited. It didn’t take long.

“How was English yesterday?” He asked casually.

“Tell your friend she has a big mouth,” I replied sourly.

“Ah, ah, leave poor Alice out of it.” I caught Edward’s grin in my periphery. “You, dear Bella, are the talk of the school now.”

“Goody for me.” I turned sharply toward him. “Hey, wait. Speaking of talking - why are you talking to me?”

He seemed surprised by the question. “Why not?”

“Um, because you ignored me yesterday.” I made a face at him and turned away, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “And anyway, I don’t think I want to talk to you, either.”

“Why not?”

Heaving a sigh, I frowned at him. “You’re starting to sound like a broken record, you know, “ I pointed out. “I don’t want to talk to you because you made me look like a jerk in front of those guys on Saturday and…” I glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention and shook my bruised knuckles in his face.

Edward rolled his eyes. “You’ll never see those guys again. And I am sorry that I hurt you. It wasn’t my intention.”

“I’ll probably see those guys every time I see a band play!” I hissed. “I just hope they aren’t there this Saturday.”

“You’re going back to that place?”

Before I could answer Mr. Banner walked in and Edward dropped the subject.We focused on our lesson, though I could tell Edward wasn't willing to let the conversation end.

As usual, Edward followed me out to my truck after class.

“Are you going back to that place this Saturday?” he asked.


“And you think those guys will be there?”

I rolled my eyes and bit my lip, irritated. “I can’t predict the future, Edward. But, yes, probably.”

“That one guy is bad news. Trouble.” There was conviction in his voice.

”Your point?”

Edward regarded me thoughtfully, a small smile on his lips. “You don’t need any help with trouble.”

I snorted and climbed into my truck. “Don’t I know it.”


Charlie’s cruiser was parked in front of the house as I steered the truck into the driveway. The sound of a basketball game greeted me when I opened the door and I assumed Charlie was sitting, enrapt, in front of the TV. I was wrong.

“I got a call from your principal today.”

I froze with my foot halfway on the stairs. Charlie turned around from the microwave, looking displeased.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Oh yeah?” he repeated, dark eyes flaring. I swear I saw his mustache twitch. “That’s all you have to say?”

I sighed. “Look, I got a detention for it. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. Okay? Is that better?”

“Is this how you treated Renee?” If Charlie was trying to guilt trip me, he had another thing coming; it wasn’t going to work.

“Renee never would have cared. She was…occupied with other things.”

“Three strikes, Bella.” Charlie waved his spoon at me. “That’s all I’m giving you. I’m the chief of police – I can’t have my…“ he paused, struggling to dredge up the right word, “my ward running around causing problems.”

“I understand, Charlie.” I muttered, my lips pursed shut. “Loud and clear, Chief.”

I took the steps two at a time and slammed my bedroom door behind me. I glared at it, trying to ignore the feeling of heaviness sinking in my chest as I scrabbled for the iPod, stuffing the earplugs into my ears. Then I flopped back on the bed, kicking my book bag off with a scuffed sneaker. My ward. Whatever. I sighed as the screech of guitars drowned out my thoughts. I'm in this prison you built for you/In this situation I don't know what to do/Always something makes me think things don’t have to be so wrong/You put up walls with nothing spoken/In your weakness you're so strong…

I knew I was mad at the wrong person and that didn’t make me feel better; it made me feel worse. I was Charlie’s ward and he was the closest thing I’d ever had to a father. Hell, he was doing more for me than my own Mother was. No matter how grudgingly he offered his home to me, it was more than my own father ever did. Charlie was helping me out. I had to remember that.

I tried to be on my best behavior for the rest of the week after my tiff with Charlie. By Friday, most of my classmates had stopped whispering every time I walked by. I might not have been in the English teacher’s best graces but I kept my mouth shut and read the chapters. As I wandered absently through the halls of Forks High, my thoughts were on Wuthering Heights; I pondering the irony that I had actually found myself enjoying the characters when I accidentally plowed into some girl.

“Oh, crap!” I exclaimed as she spun around to face me. “I’m sorry!”

“Watch where you’re going!” she retorted angrily. Her hair was short and blonde and her face was twisted into an angry grimace. Her friends stopped, watching with mild curiosity.

“Uh, yeah.” A tremor of annoyance rippled through me. “That’s why I said ‘sorry’.” I turned to walk away.

“Bitch,” she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear. Someone laughed.

I froze. Willed myself to keep walking. But I couldn’t.

I pivoted slowly. “What did you say?” My voice was coldly cautious and my fists seemed to clench on the their own.

“I said,” the blonde took a step closer to me, “’bitch’. Gotta a problem with that?”

I sized her up, my promise to Charlie forgotten. She was taller than me and probably had me in the weight department, too – not that it made any difference.

“No. I don’t have a problem,” I grinned widely, baring my teeth, “but you sure do.”

I slammed her against the locker before she could open her mouth, my forearm pressed into her throat as her eyes widened in fright and surprise. Adrenaline took over; it was as if I was outside of myself watching the fight unfold before me.

“What are you doing?! Let Lauren go!” Someone shouted behind me. “Stop it!”

A crowd quickly gathered and began yelling at us, momentarily distracting me enough that Lauren managed to wiggle free from my grip and took the opportunity to grab a fistful of my dark brown hair. Tears welled involuntarily in my eyes as she yanked and I heard myself growl with indignation. I bashed her again, hard, against the locker and she cried out hoarsely as my fist connected with her solar plexus. You see me and you laugh out loud/ You taunt me from safe inside your crowd/My looks they must threaten you to make you act the way you do/ Red, I'm seeing red!…

“Fight, fight, fight!” the crowd chanted behind us. I watched with grim satisfaction as Lauren went down in a heap. I was moving in again when I felt strong, muscled arms grabbing me from behind. I struggled, howling, completely focused on pummeling the girl on the ground.

“Knock it off, Bella,” a voice rasped in my ear. “Before you get yourself in even more trouble.”

Edward’s emerald eyes were dark and his expression almost angry as he pulled me away from Lauren. I wrenched myself from his grasp, only to find an older male hand clamping down on my arm. Mr. Banner threw me a reproachful look as he dragged me in the direction of to the principal’s office.

The cracked, plastic chair that sat outside the office was put there specifically for ingrates like myself and the fact that it was beginning to feel familiar to me didn’t bode well.

I was so screwed. I slouched in my seat, scowling as the principal picked up the phone to inform Charlie of my transgressions. In the next room over, I could hear Lauren sobbing and her melodramatic theatrics made me want to march right in there and slap her around some more.

After a brief talk with Charlie, the principal turned to me. “You’re to leave the school immediately,” he said brusquely. “And not come back until the Monday after next. This suspension will go on your permanent record, Miss Swan. I don’t know how they handled things in your old school, but at Forks High we take fighting very seriously.”

I kind of wanted to hit him too, as he stared down his nose at me. Thinking better of it this time, I pulled myself to my feet, signed the suspension paper and stalked outside.

“Meow,” a voice I immediately recognized drawled from behind me. I didn’t even turn but kept walking swiftly toward my truck. “Someone’s got a temper.”

“Oh, bugger off, Edward, will you?” I groused. “Just leave me alone.”

Edward caught up with me easily and I turned my head so I wouldn’t have to look at him. I desperately wanted him to leave; I knew I was perilously close to crying and the thought of crying in front of Edward made me cringe in horror.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get expelled,” He told me reprovingly, running a lean hand through his tousled hair.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I retorted as I yanked my keys from my bag and fumbled to shove them into the lock. Edward plucked them from my hands and I sucked in a big angry breath.

“Edward!” I shouted savagely. “Give me my fucking keys! Now!”

“Relax, Bella,” he said, sliding the key into the lock. “I’m not the bad guy here.”

“Of course not,” I snapped. “Because I am. I’m always the bad guy. The perpetual fuck up.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said softly as he pulled open the door and motioned me inside. I climbed into the truck and Edward nudged me over, sliding in next to me and shutting the door.

“What on earth are you doing?” I asked, mystified.

“Giving you time to calm down.”

“Can’t you just go away?” Even to my own ears, the words had the ring of defeat. I closed my eyes, wishing all of this could just go away. Wishing I could be back in Arizona, or anywhere else, for that matter. Anywhere but this forsaken place. This place is a prison and these people aren't your friends… There’re guards at the on ramps/ armed to be teeth/ and you may case the grounds from the Cascades to Puget Sound/ but you are not permitted to leave...

“I don’t want to,” Edward stated, as if there was no argument.

I groaned. “Why? I just don’t get it.”

He was quiet for a moment. “You… intrigue me, I suppose.”

“Thanks?” I wasn’t sure if it was a complement or an insult. I leaned my head against the passenger window and sighed.

Edward paused, as if he was searching for the right words. Or was unsure of what he was about to say.

“You laughed at me,” he admitted. “Most people here tend to keep their distance from me and that’s the way I like it. But you… you laughed at me.” Edward barked a laugh himself. “I found it… curious that you were so fearless. You’re not like the other girls here. You’re so… reckless. Unafraid of consequences. I just wonder what goes through your head when you do stupid shit like beating up Lauren Mallory.”

My own snicker was weak. “I’m not so sure I know the answer to that one myself,” I told him.

“How long are you suspended for?” Edward changed the subject abruptly.

“A week. Charlie’s going to murder me. Or kick me out. I’m not sure which one is worse.”

“I’m sure your Dad won’t kick you out,” Edward meant to be soothing but his words just stung me more.

“He’s not really my Dad,” I mumbled, regretting the words the moment they flew from my mouth. I did not usually volunteer personal information.

Edward arched his brows. “Really? Who is he then?”

I sighed. “Long story, Edward. Listen, I probably should go before they call the cops on me. Oh wait, they already did,” I laughed bitterly at my own joke.

It seemed as though there was a question burning in Edward’s eyes but he merely nodded and opened the door, exiting the truck. Just as he was about to shut it, he stopped, studying me. I raised my eyebrows at him, leaning over to reach for the door. Instead, he moved closer and caught my hand. His hand was warm and firm; the contact shocked me and all I could do was stare, perplexed.

“Will you do me a favor while you’re suspended?” he asked, his voice somber but sweet.

I shrugged. “Maybe. What’s the favor?”

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay? You seem to like getting yourself in trouble.”

I laughed. “I’ll try my best, Edward. That’s the best I can do.”

Edward gave me a small crooked grin but there was a worried look in his eyes. “Well, be safe, then. See you when you come back.”

He waited there until the Chevy grumbled to life, his arms folded across his chest, watching as I slowly made my way out of the parking lot. I glanced in the rear view mirror just before I entered the main road, and saw Edward still standing there, looking oddly alone.

Charlie was, as I expected, absolutely furious with me when I got home. The light drizzle that had persisted all day erupted into a fantastic downpour and I stood in the hallway, shivering and drenched, as he ripped in to me.

“You couldn’t last one week?” he blustered angrily. “One damned week?! You promised me on Monday that you would watch yourself and yet I get a call four days later telling me you’re suspended? For fighting?” He threw his hands up in disgust. “Really, Bella, I don’t know what to say.”

Neither did I, so I remained quiet, riding out the storm. He ranted on, his dark brows furrowing together.

“I don’t know, Bella,” Charlie shook his head, “this isn’t what I signed on for. If Renee hadn’t already moved to Jacksonville I think I would just ship you-“

My head snapped up; something cold wrapped itself around my middle, shooting up my spine. “She what?”

“Moved,” he sighed. “With that ball player husband of hers. She didn’t want to tell you until she was settled in.”

“Are you going to send me there?” My voice was barely a whisper. Charlie shook his head.

“I can’t,” I heard regret in his voice but I wasn’t sure if it was for him or me. “It’s an adult community – no children.”

“Oh,” His burly form blurred in my vision – I felt like my throat was stuffed with cotton. “I see.”

Charlie gave me a sympathetic look. “Bella, I –“

I cut him off. “Well, I’m sorry I’ve caused all this trouble, Charlie.” I said in a mechanical voice. “I really am. May I be excused?”

He nodded and I trudged up the stairs, my legs wobbling, as the rest of me was suddenly too heavy to carry.

My mother wasn’t coming back for me. Somehow, I think I knew that but now it seemed so… real. Something hot and wet trickled down my cheek and I angrily slapped the tears away, curling up on the bed desperately, my rain boots muddy against the comforter. My mother wasn’t coming back for me. I patted the bed for my iPod, my sanctity, and turned it on as quickly as my numbed fingers would allow. Yeah this is how it ends/ after all this time/ everything just fades away/ worn-out and empty and all alone/ with nothing left to say/oh it's all too big to make a difference/ it's all too wrong to make it right/ yeah everything is too unfair /everything too much to bear…

I don’t know how long I laid in that uncomfortable fetal position before the sorrow morphed into anger. It started slowly, almost softly, crawling through my body, heating my blood until I was boiling, pissed. I sat up in the bed and was trying to clear my head when suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

My lungs were filled with coal and ash. I wheezed and doubled over, feeling as if something was constricting my airways, cutting off my air supply. I gasped, panicked, trying desperately to catch air, reminding myself firmly that there was actually nothing physically wrong with me.

I hated her. It was the hatred that was choking me, making stars dance before my eyes. I hated her all the more for making me feel this way. Quickly, I grabbed my headphones, my hands shaking as I scrolled through the music, looking for something soothing, relaxing. My breathing slowed slightly but I found nothing relaxing or soothing. I gave up and switched to a harder beat. My heart sped up to match as my emotion soared toward volcanic intensity.

My boot struck the wall across from my bed with such force it knocked an adjacent picture to the floor, the glass shattering, glittering almost prettily. All of my fears came true/black and blue and broken bones you left me here I'm all alone/my little piggy needed something new/nothing can stop me now/I don't care anymore/nothing can stop me now… I stared viciously at it for a moment before launching the second boot through the air; it landed squarely on a small bookshelf, causing an eruption of paperbacks to scatter to the ground. From somewhere came the strangest sound, a guttural, high-pitched shriek that pierced through the music banging in my ears. Then the cursing started, even louder than my shrieks.

“You fucking bitch!” I screamed, decapitating a lamp with my book bag. “How could you do this to me?” I shoved a notebook off my cramped desk, it’s contents scattering in a flurry of papers. “What did I do to you?!”

“BELLA!!” Charlie stood in the doorway, his eyes wide, horrified. “Bella! Stop this right now!”

“Why did she leave me?” I yelled back, kicking over a chair. “Why? What did I do? How can she fucking do this to me? What did I do, Charlie? Tell me – what did I do that was so bad they don’t want me? That made her move someplace where I’m not even allowed to be with them? That selfish fucking asshole –“

“Bella!” Charlie took a tentative step toward me. “Calm down, please.”

“Calm down?” I gave a hysterical little laugh. “My own mother wants nothing to fucking do with me and – “

“Bella, please,” Charlie’s voice turned soft, pleading. “You’re bleeding, you’ve hurt yourself.”

I looked down numbly at my hand; it was oozing blood but couldn‘t recall what I had cut it on. Then I looked up at Charlie. He was watching me with such a sad expression that I wanted to disappear between the floorboards. My fuck ups were becoming a regular thing these days. I glanced around the room I had successfully destroyed; glass shards glittered in one corner while the lamp keeled over in another, it’s shade broken and smashed.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Charlie,” I mumbled dully. “I’m… so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Charlie said too quickly, clearing his throat and looking utterly uncomfortable. “Here, let me look at your hand.”

“No, Charlie,” I responded thickly, even though I was trying to keep my voice even. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve caused enough trouble. I can take care of it myself. I’m sorry.” I took a step toward the door but stopped, unwilling to get too close to him. He must have sensed my hesitation because he nodded softly and stepped away.

“Ok, Bells,” he said quietly, a little helplessly. “You take care of that yourself. If you want to… talk, just let me know. I’m here.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” My insides felt frozen; my voice sounded like a stranger’s. Numbly I headed to the bathroom and locked the door. As I watched my blood swirl down the drain I felt my bile rise. Tears burned in my eyes, fighting to get out even as I tried to swallow the feelings threatening to burst out of me. But I wasn’t strong enough.

The sobs came painfully, wracking through me as if some inner force was shoving them out of my body. Blindly I reached for the shower, turning it on, hoping the sound of pounding water would obliterate my cries. Charlie didn’t need to hear this.

I stripped down quickly and stepped into the shower, the water hot and punishing against my skin. I knelt down, until I was sitting in the tub. I pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them, my head tilted down, rocking, as the water pummeled me. And I let the grief take over.


I know a few of you thought Edward was being an asshole in the last few chapters. I realize that right now neither of them are all that... likeable but I implore you, give them a chance. They'll surprise you.

Chapter Title - Wrecking Ball by Crooked Fingers

Lyrics (order of appearance - song, band)

Any Day Now - Elbow
Young Offenders - The Constantines
Hoboken - Operation Ivy
Seeing Red - Minor Threat
This Place is a Prison - Postal Service
Numb - The Cure
Piggy - Nine Inch Nails

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Real Men Love Twilight - That's Right!!

Wanna know why guys who like Twilight get laid? Because we're thinking of these dudes while we're doin' them.

Despite the fact that Mommy (not a)Jerkface has been permanently banned at Twitarded, she still occasionally sends me stuff to feed my fix. Naturally, the links she sends me aren't riddled with expletives or detailed descriptions of Edward's throbbing member and what he plans on doing with it, but I still love getting her emails.

So I was confused when she sent me an email titled 'Real Men Love Twilight!'. I was thinking to myself, is Mommy finally reading fan fiction? because those male characters are real men, all right. Once again, my head was firmly planted where everyone here seems to like it: in the gutter.

This is an article from an NPR show called My Guilty Pleasure (which is not nearly as dirty as it sounds, much to my disappointment). It's the transcript, actually, but I think there is a nifty linky dink if you want to listen to it; I believe it's one of those new-fangled deevices they call a 'podcast'. The author, Brad Meltzer, comes out of Twi closet and admits his unabashed, unconditional love of Twilight.
I love this story of the gawky, awkward girl who falls in love with the brooding vampire. And I love that she can't get sexual with said vampire because when her blood gets pumping, it'll send him into a frenzy and he'll kill her. (How's that for a prophylactic?)
Side note - Prophylactic? That's not a prophylactic, that's a god damned chastity belt, that's what that is. The ultimate cock block, if you will. But I digress.
I realized this when I went to see the Twilight movie. Yes, I was there. Opening weekend. We got a babysitter for it. And I sat there in the dark with my wife and a roomful of suburban mothers and a smattering of teenage daughters. I counted. There were four other men (all teenagers) besides me. Me. Four dragged-along boyfriends. And the rest women.
This got me thinking: were there any wieners in the crowd when we went to see Twilight? I honestly can't say I remember any dudes the first time we saw the movie, but that may have been because we were laughing too hard to actually scope out the crowd. However, I do remember--clearly--two guys sitting in the theater the third [sigh] time we went.

They were probably in their late teens, early twenties at most. In between our uncontrollable snickering, snorting and giggling (not to mention our feeble and futile attempts at stifling all the above), STY nudged me and pointed them out. They were sitting in the row ahead of us, and since there was a vacant seat in between theirs, we assumed the ladies were in the bathroom. I mean, there was no way these guys were there to watch Twilight without women involved, right? I figured that the only guys who read the series were doing it in order to a) get laid by some Twi-obsessed chick or b) pick up pointers on how to be more like Edward so they could get laid by some Twi-obsessed chick.

As the lights dimmed and no one with a pair of boobies claimed the seats near them, we realized that, oh yes, they were there to see Twilight. Of their own volition.

Tee hee. Suckers. I would occasionally glance at them throughout the movie, perplexed by not only their presence but the fact that they didn't sit next to each other. Come on, dudes! We all KNEW you guys were together, for all intents and purposes. You kept whispering to each other across that lonely, empty seat. And it sure looked like you guys were enjoying the movie. In fact, I think I saw one of you getting a little bouncy in your seat during the baseball scene. Was it Rosalie in those tight ol' pants? Jasper? Hey, no worries, I'm not judging. Maybe you just really liked the books. Or you got suckered into thinking you were about to see an action-packed horror flick where some very bad vamp blood was spilled! Er, I don't know if this was actually the case, but I realize that some dudes felt duped by the advertising. Anyhoo, if you ever happen across this blog, will you explain why you were there? Because at the time I practically had to physically restrain STY from flouncing over to you after the movie and demanding an explanation of your presence, and now I kinda wish I had let her go...

Yet, it's become very clear to me that guys do read the series. And actually enjoy it. It wasn't too long ago that I discovered Brother Jerkface was reading Twilight! And let me tell you, he's a pretty no nonsense, serious kinda guy. Brother Jerkface would not take kindly to being called that mythical of all creatures, a Unicorn, but I've got to call them as I see 'em... Oh, and before I forget, a guy who likes Twilight is known as a Unicorn, in Twi vernacular. You probably should know that, just in case you ever meet one of us 'natives' of Twiland.

So, the next time someone gets all macho about guys reading Twilight, just remind them how much easier it would be to get laid if they were all just like Edward...

Except this guy - he don't like Twilight... only himself

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

This is DEFINITELY Cheating on Twilight...

I have a friend at work, we'll call her "Office Snarky" or "OS" for short (I try not to make friends at work; I made an exception for OS and I stand by my decision but it's unlikely you will ever find me introducing another office-friend) who is aware of how obsessed JJ and I are with Twilight. She honestly doesn't get it, and although after much cajoling she had dutifully been lugging around my copy of Twilight, she's not feeling it. I secretly believe this is because OS is actually a guy in a hot chick package - she definitely rated "Man" on this gender test (you have to join to take it but it's a hoot!). Before the long Memorial Day weekend, I wandered over to her desk to get an update on her progress. It wasn't going well...
Office Snarky [pounding my poor, temporarily-unloved copy of Twilight on her desk]: "I will keep reading this if you promise me something will happen! I am two hundred and sixty fucking pages in and not a fucking thing has actually happened! You HAVE to watch True Blood. In True Blood people are having wild animal sex in the first five minutes!"
And she has a point - the opening sequence in True Blood - the HBO adaptation of the Charlaine Harris Southern Vampire Mysteries book series - is sexier, dirtier, and more scorchingly tawdry than anything that ever has or ever will happen in Twilight (why do you think there's so much porn-worthy fanfic out there?). OS had been talking up True Blood for quite some time, and apparently JJ and I had finally heard enough about how hot the show is and set our sights on watching it the second it came out on DVD (in a fit of rage, I cancelled HBO the morning after I watched the series finale of "The Sopranos" [note from JJ: jftr, I was also SO fucking pissed] ). Late last week after a stop at Blockbuster I sent this pic to JJ:
Edward says "I want to go to there..."

About 10 seconds later, I got this pic text from JJ:

(It's fuzzy but you get the idea... Great minds think alike!)

Anyway, we watched. And we really REALLY liked what we saw... The day after the inaugural screening, we had the following exchange:

STY: [whispering conspiratorially into the phone] OMeffingG that show is unbelievable!!! What did you think?!?

JJ: I want to let him do dirty things to me.

Me: I'm just excited that I can lust after this guy and not feel like a pedophile or a skanky cougar!

This is Bill.
Oh he has thoughts, all right: dirty, dirty thoughts...

If you have never watched True Blood, it is possible that you don't find him all that sexy. Yet. But if you HAVE watched True Blood, you've probably already stopped reading and are currently dry-humping your computer. Don't ask me how he manages to pull off this extreme level of sex appeal, but I state this as unequivocal fact (I have eyes too and I recognize the fact that he's not all that traditionally-drop-dead-gorgeous but WOW he's workin' it on this show) .

In short, I am encouraging you to cheat on Twilight with True Blood. Not only that, but it's like I am beseeching you to cheat on sweet, adoring, faithful Twilight with Twilight's hot, no-good-but-drop-dead-sexy older brother who probably doesn't even know your name and is never going to call you again after the deed. I may be premature in posting about this series, as I have seen all of two four (yay they had disc #2 in stock!) episodes, but I can only assume that since nobody here is raving about this show in the comments section here at Twitarded or otherwise saying anything about it that maybe some of you haven't found it yet, either. And I can't waste any time in getting the word out. It's that good. And if you HAVE seen it, please let me remind you how much I hate spoilers. In other words, if you've seen the whole thing please keep the plot details to yourself or take it outside, missy. Oh and I will need you to explain why you've been holding out on us...

One more thing: I KNOW that some of you will have to drive three towns away - in disguise! - just so that you can rent or buy True Blood without anyone finding out about it. DO IT. Get your hands on these discs somehow. Then watch them in secret if you must. I don't care if your own private screening takes place at 3 a.m. out in the mini-van with your ass smushed into the baby seat so that nobody finds out. Just make it happen, and you can thank me later.

P.S. I am not doing a "Twilight vs. True Blood" smack-down here. I'm just sayin' that if you like Twitarded and love Twilight, there's a really really REALLY good chance that you are going to flip over this show. I have enough room in my life for one more obsession. OK, not really; this probably means I am going to have to quit my job or something to find the time I need to devote to it, but I'll think of something...


Also completely HOT.

P.S.S. I have to ask: wtf happened to us?! I never used to want to get into anyone's pants like this... Is it ironic that chaste, abstinence-promoting, Twilight has apparently had a massive impact on my libido (and that of every other person who reads this blog, as far as i can tell...)?

Monday, May 25, 2009

My New Favorite Book - After the Twilight Series, Naturally

Over the weekend, I get a phone call from STY, and she was acting all chirpy and excited. This is always a sign of either something stupendously good or train-wreck-magnitude badness.

"I have to stop by right now," she tells me all breathless and giddy. I can tell she's in the car so I get nervous, thinking perhaps she's finally mowed down her creepy neighbor. "I bought something for us that will help our writing on the blog." I can practically hear her smirking as she says this.

Ok, cool. I'm thinking she maybe picked up a Blogger for Absolute Morons since the one for dummies ended up being a coaster for a couple of months. Or perhaps it was a Collegiate Thesaurus or something else equally... intelligent.

Then I remembered this is us we're talking about. And since she already got me the 'how-to-write-porn" book... I was stumped. And then I get this picture message (taken while driving - BAD STY!):

A few minutes later she shows up with this gem. It is now my life book. It is my new sacred text that I refer to with alarming frequency. I've learned so much from this book in the short time it's been in my possession - I can't possibly understand how I survived before it.

I take it's teachings with me wherever I go and find myself so much more in control when I utilize the beautiful, delicious words it contains.

One word - Boofuckingyahthisshitistheshit!!!***

The bitch got me (ok, us) a book on cursing. I would have made out with her but I was too busy screaming excitedly. I immediately wrest it from her hands and flip open the book randomly. Basically, the book is essentially split into two sections - some words are innocent and others are SO not and you can flip through them to twist every day words into something punched-in-the-face-if-you-say-it worthy.

"Hey, ML!" I shout so all our neighbors can hear me and reaffirm their suspicions that I am 'fucking looped'. "You're a..." I flip madly through the book, "... Shit Wrangler!!!"

"Oh give me that." Clearly my clever cursing isn't nearly offensive enough for the BFF who blushes as I'm bellowing expletives at certain video games during parties. STY suddenly wrestles the book out of my hands. "When I first opened it at the book store it opened to 'Clit Shitter'. I was sold." she admits.

She flips through the book, giggling like a maniac, and shows me another magic dirty combination that makes me purposefully want to go to a crowded store and wait in a long line behind a retiree with a pocket full of coupons...

I've already used this one on someone. It was fun.

The only downside to this book was that ML was calling me a 'Titty Rammer' all weekend. Well, among the usual things.

Heck, even Edward got in on the action.

Why does this remind me of the "anatomically correct" Renesmess doll?? Hmmm...

The irony of this is that STY is, on occasion, absolutely, totally horrified by my mouth. Yet she encourages it... I think she is living vicariously through me and and my potty-mouthed glory! Sometimes I think I am lucky to have such a Queef Nugget of a BFF. Just sayin'.

*** STY thought that I probably should put a little mention in this post about the fact that I put up a picture with a bronze stag schlong and the Cullen Crest. I wish I could come up with some witty quip about this but , honestly, I can't. This setup seriously exists in my house. I guess that's just how I roll...

Memorial Day with Edward Cullen

Ah, Memorial Day weekend. Every year ML and I throw our tent and sleeping bags into the car and head down to his friend's house where we kiss our dignity goodbye and say hello to whiskey and shame.

Well, I do, at least.

ML's friend, we'll call him Mr. X, lives in a small, very quaint town. Actually, he also owns a church in town, which he is renovating. It's at this church that, ironically, most of the bedlam goes down. It's your typical Memorial Day melee - lots of food, drink, music, Bocci Ball, Horseshoes (imo, this is the WORST game to play when you're tying one on) and of course, drinks. Oh wait, I already mentioned that.

We quickly throw our tent together so we can begin carousing because, honestly, trying to set up a tent when you're three sheets to the wind is really, really hard. Or so I've heard.

Our tent is the ugly gray one, not the ugly yellow one.

ML groaned audibly when I whipped Edward out of my bag. It seems that he's still thinks that maybe, just maybe, one of these days I'll leave the damn doll at home. Wishful thinker, that one.

Unfortunately, it rained like a mother effer yesterday, but that didn't do anything to dampen our spirits!! In fact, despite the hell waters that were unleashed, even the bonfire persevered!

At one point, STY texts me, asking if it's raining. I snap a picture of myself chillin' in my rain gear.

Sorry this picture is so blurry - my cell phone had a bit too much wine...

Instead of being all nice and telling me that maybe standing around an open field in the middle of a thunderstorm isn't the brightest idea or maybe some other thoughtful inquiry into my well-being (since I know that STY finds my occasional camping trips puzzling; she prefers to experience nature by viewing it through a thick pane of glass, preferably with a cocktail in hand), I get this instead:

That's a lotta tit for camping...

Right? Freaking biatch is SO judgemental!! That's why I love her though. And anyway, shortly after this picture I did get absolutely soaked and had to change into a less titty-accentuating top. So there.

The festivities carried on late into the evening and when I finally shuffled off to my sleeping bag there were still people playing guitars and stuff.

And then there's morning...

There is only one thing that sucks about camping out. It doesn't matter how late you were up the night before, or even how much whiskey you may or may not have consumed. It is inevitable, if you are sleeping out of doors, that you will wake up punishingly early.

I finally came to woke up when I became aware of the fact that I was sweating like a whore in church. Couple that with a pack of dogs wuffling around the tent and a screeching banshee with wings in the tree above me, there was no way I was getting anymore shut eye. So I climbed out of the tent to survey the damage.

I could hear the pathetic groanings of the collective Hungover masses emanating from their tents as I started to pull my sleeping bag out to hang it up. And that's when I saw this:

Don't see it? Look closer:

Yup. It looks like Edward had an AWESOME night last night, too!! Poor guy looks like he's a hurting.

Mini-E finishing up his cougar, bear and/or bad vamp patrol - he did a great job!

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. The tents were packed up, the beer cans collected, and the fire doused with water. Until next year, that is.

Hope you all have a safe and happy Memorial Day!!! You know Edward has strong feelings when it comes to our safety...

Sunday, May 24, 2009

Robert Pattinson in Cannes (Encore Presentation)

Why yes, I have been a very naughty boy...
Photo from Everglow
If you've been reading our blog for more than a few minutes, you've probably noticed that we generally don't write about the day-to-day comings and goings of the Twilight/New Moon cast. Mostly because everyone else does an awesome job of covering those details. And because keeping up with all of them looks like it involves a massive amount of work, and frankly we're just too lazy for that sort of undertaking. But when Robert Pattinson touched down in France last week, I knew all the usual rules were going right out the window. Because he looked spectacular. Maybe it was the total sex-hair thing he was working (even more than usual...), or the beautiful ocean behind him - whatever. All I knew was that it wasn't going to be enough to just stare at him on everyone else's blogs: if I don't get to see those pics right here on my own dinky blog every single day for at least the next week month or two, life just isn't going to be worth living.

Sure, he looks great all the time. And strutting down the red carpet or rushing off for a late-nite nosh with Brangelina were no exceptions (ok I made that last bit up, but it came thisclose to happening, right?). But forget all that and let's get to the important stuff: the Cannes photo-call. Drop. Dead. Gorgeous. I may have to go back on my "ha-ha of course I would never stalk him... that's crazy!" stance and but a ticket to Italy, stat. I used to kid myself and say that I was only completely and inappropriate fixated on the books and Edward (which is bad enough...), but can I really be blamed for transferring (er, or "expanding") my obsessing to include Robert Pattinson? No. I cannot. You read the birthday post: I have been rendered completely helpless against his natural appeal. I'm actually kinda embarrasses for me but I can't help myself. (((sigh)))

I was going to post a montage of the stills (you can find tons of amazing photo and multi-media galleries here at Everglow), but when I went to YouTube and checked out the offerings, I thought that they were all really annoying. OK, fine, maybe it's just because I was a little hung over, but fuck - I don't care about your mad album-making skilz, ok YouTube people? I don't want to sound like an ingrate and I appreciate your putting all this stuff together for the rest of us, but do me a favor and save your "star wipes" and your "fades" for albums of your puppies or Barbies or whatever and just. show. me. the. pictures. Maybe I was feeling a little squiffy at the time (it is possible that copious amounts of wine were consumed the previous evening but I'll never tell), but do we REALLY need him fading in and our or (even worse) spiraling in and out of the screen? No, we do not (and I nearly threw up, ftr). So I found this instead. I watched a few versions of this and let me just say holy CRAP those people taking the pictures are effing annoying!!! Seriously, if I never hear 50 French guys shouting some version of "RHO BHER! OVER HERE! SHOW ZEE ZHEXY FACE!!" over and over again, it will be too soon. This might be a slightly less-annoying sound that the deafening "SQUEEE!!!" of several thousand fan-girls (and, let's call a spade a spade: their equally-smitten moms) at ComicCon last year (which R-Patts likened to "what hell must sound like"), but not by much. Thankfully, this one has nothing but nice, soothing music. Regardez le magnifique Robward!

P.S. You can also find a great selection of wallpaper over at Everglow. Which is good for me, because I HAD been using the pic below (from the V-Man outtakes I had drooled over here) as my wallpaper until Twilight Widower had to go and compare it - with eerie, spot-on accuracy - to a circa-1980-something pic of the New Kids On The Block. And now I only see Donnie Wahlberg and crew every time I look at what used to be one of my all-time fave pictures of the Twilight cast. Thanks a lot, dude. What did I ever do to you???

We are NOT a bad eighties boy-band and we are here to stay!

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Twilight Fan Fiction! 15 Step + Bonus Original Twi smut

Author's notes - This is my first attempt at a writing fan fiction, so go on easy on me, okay? At least use a little verbal lube before you tear into me.

The first story, 15 Step, is going to be posted chapter by chapter. I don't intend on it being too long but... we'll see. This story is Bella's POV. Everyone is a human. I did attempt to keep a decent amount of the original stories in this tale. This post is the Prologue and the first two chapters.

The second story, Le Petit Mort, is just a short little smutty piece I figured I'd throw out there to satisfy all you twi-sluts who are bemoaning the fact that nobody gets busy in the beginning of 15 Steps. Hope you enjoy! Snarkier Than You heartily approves, for the record.

We'll also be labeling all our fan fiction/Twismut in so you folks can find it easier. :)

Oh, and as always - thanks STY. I would never have done this if you hadn't locked me in the basement and withheld vodka. Love you! :P

Disclaimers - The characters, naturally, are Stephenie Meyer's and I've just warped 'em a little to suit our, er, "needs." The titles of the chapters and anything in italics do not belong to me, either. The titles are actually song titles and the italicized bits are pieces of lyrics that I've pulled from songs.

And, this goes without saying, these stories are intended for mature, adult readers. Well, adult, at least. Eighteen and over only.



"Bella, hurry!” my mother called to me from the bottom of the stairs. I scowled in her general direction as I stuffed some clothes into my duffel bag. “Your flight is going to leave without you.”

Good,” I huffed under my breath as I picked up my iPod and stared at it. I should have known this was coming four months ago when Renee surprised me with the iPod. She knew how much I loved music, knew how important, how necessary it was to me. I shoved the device into the pocket of my jeans, draping the ear plugs over my neck and sticking the right one in my ear. The soft sound of a drumbeat soothed me a little.

“There you are!” Renee grabbed a piece of luggage that was resting against the hallway. “Come on now, Phil’s outside waiting.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” I mumbled to her, letting the duffel bag fall to the floor with a thud.

“It’s only for a few months,” she replied, her voice taking on a tone that was meant to be comforting, yet wasn't...

Yeah, right. She’s said that before. It was a scene we had played out more times than I would prefer to remember. I heaved my duffel bag over my shoulder and cranked up the music, watching her lips twist, the movement discordant with the pounding beats in my ears. I stared at her numbly until Renee finally frowned and plucked an ear plug from my ear.

"Must you always have those darn things in?” she groused, “I’m trying to talk to you.”

And I’m trying to ignore you. I sighed and gave her my bored ‘I’m listening’ look.

“You liked Forks,” she told me as she ushered me out of the door and into the dry sweltering heat.

“I don’t remember Forks,” I replied bluntly, “we left when I was four.”

“Well, you did.” Phil came over and relieved Renee of my suitcase, grinning at me as if I was about to embark on some exciting adventure. I wanted to punch him right in his face. It must have showed on my face because the grin slide off his. “And you liked Charlie, too.”

“Uh huh.”

Renee looked askance at my lack of enthusiasm. “It’ll only be until Phil and I get settled.” She turned her back to open the car door. “Just a few months.”

I slumped into the back seat of the car, the air conditioning blasting frigid around me and I shivered. A few months. The woman must think I'm stupid not to see the pattern emerging. Every time she got a new man, she got a new life - one that didn't include me. I flipped the iPod back on. I wanna live in a city with no friends or family/ I'm gonna look out the window of my color TV/ I wanna remember to remember to forget you forgot me...

Renee twisted in her seat to say something to me but I closed my eyes and let the music take over.

Chapter 1: Forty-Six & 2

Six weeks. I stared out through the rain spattered windshield of the old Chevy as it shuddered and heaved, idling roughly as I waited impatiently for the light to turn green. It’d been six long weeks since Renee dumped me off here in Forks, six weeks since I’d even heard from her. Six weeks since I’d been living with Charlie, who was a stranger at best. If Phoenix was heaven, Forks, Washington was definitely the epicenter of hell - a very moist hell, to say the least. Six weeks felt like an eternity - not a good sign when I needed another whole year to graduate high school.

The light turned green and I jerked the clutch, pumping my foot on the pedal as the truck lurched forward. What a hunk of junk – the only thing I could afford. A flash of silver in my side view mirror told me the person behind me didn’t think I was moving fast enough and, as the Volvo swerved expertly around me, I pressed my middle finger against the window, hoping the driver could see it through the fog before he zoomed in front of me and disappeared down the highway.

“Asshole,” I muttered to myself, heaving back against the torn fabric of the seat; I shoved one earbud in and flipped on my iPod, the heavy music doing nothing to lighten my dark and angry mood. …I don't care about your routine/I refuse to fall in with the disarmed machines/ I don't give a fuck how hard you are/ don't care about your incentives or your values…

Reluctant to head back to Charlie’s house, I instead stopped off at Waylin's,the local diner. The bell jingled overhead and the hinges squawked as I pushed open the door; everyone looked up, expecting to recognize the person walking in. A few did, but most just regarded me with unabashed curiosity.I was a stranger in a town small enough that there was no such thing. I planned on keeping it that way.

“Hi Bella,” the waitress greeted me warmly as I slid onto a stool at the counter, tugging an earbud loose, a feeble attempt to be polite.“How’s Charlie?”

“Fine,” I replied grimly, flipping open the menu she placed before me, absently looking at the list,“I’ll have the garden burger.”

Her lips tightened at my curtness but she gave me a short smile and told me my order would be coming right up. I imagined her grumbling about my rudeness to the cook in the back, probably wondering why on earth Charlie even agreed to take me in again. My presence would earn Charlie the title of Saint. It was the least I could do for him, I reasoned. Graciousness was not my strong suit.

Charlie. I sighed. It wasn’t that Charlie was a bad guy; it was just that I didn’t know him and I didn’t particularly want to know him. I was tired of being pushed off on relatives or, even worse, neighbors, whenever Renee got herself a new husband. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts as something hot flashed down my spine and settled tightly in my stomach. I loathed being the burden no one wanted to deal with. Renee must have been really desperate to get rid of me this time if she pawned me off on an ex-husband. Charlie may have been naively dazzled by Renee’s charm years ago, but things were different now.

Renee and Charlie met when I was only an infant. According to Renee, my father was vehemently opposed to my being brought into existence and refused to take part in either of our lives. I don’t know how much truth there is to that but, since he never bothered to contact me, I returned the snub by not even thinking about him. Charlie filled that fatherly void, if only for a little while, and had even given me his name.He had to welcome me then, if he wanted my mother. We were, after all, a package deal at the time, and one he accepted with only a small amount of reluctance. Why he'd agreed to take me in again mystified me. His kindness rankled but I had no choice but to take it.

Thoughts of Renee and Charlie made me lose my appetite and I absently munched on the fries before giving up entirely and pushing the plate away.

Drizzle greeted me when I left the diner and headed back to the truck. Another heavy sigh and I tugged my hoodie over my hair, a futile gesture. The moisture seeped through everything, enveloping my body in a constant cool dampness that I never seemed able to get rid of. It was yet another reminder of how spoiled I had been in Arizona. I crossed my arms over my chest, shivering. I’ll be the winter coat/ buttoned and zipped straight to the throat, with the collar up so you won’t catch a cold…

The music was low enough that I was still able to detected a slight purr of a car approaching, and I side-stepped further into the shoulder to avoid being splashed by the numerous puddles littering the road. I turned to watch as it cruised by me and noted, with a start, that it looked like the same silver Volvo that had passed me earlier. My surprise turned smug as I glimpsed the driver glowering at me through the window. I guess he’d gotten my message. I met his angry glare and gave him a cheery little wave, enjoying the violence in his gaze. He was about my age, and looked vaguely familiar, though his silhouette was murky through the fogged window. He shot off like a rocket down the road.

“Whoa,” a voice behind me said. I jumped at the sound and whirled around, tensed. A towheaded teen was leaning against a car, grinning goofily at me, oblivious to my narrowed eyes.

“Shouldn’t mess with the Cullens,” he called out, his eyes running up and down my body. Ridiculous. I was completely shrouded in a thick sweatshirt, yet he still gazed at my figure with glazed eyes.

“Who the hell are the Cullens?” I replied tersely, even though the name rang a bell. “And who are you?”

“I’m Mike Newton.” He jovially shoved a meaty hand in my direction. His tone, his whole demeanor just screamed ‘dumb jock’, from his silly basketball sneakers that were squelching into the wet earth up to his gelled, stiff blond hair. I stared at his hand for a moment, and then remembered that civility called for me to shake it, which I did quickly.

“Well, actually, not all the Cullens,”Mike conceded thoughtfully.“just the youngest one. Nasty attitude, that one. Thinks he’s better than everyone else. Rumor has it he’s got a bit of a temper.”

I shrugged.“I’m not too worried about it."

Mike’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “Maybe you should be,” he told me mysteriously.

I rolled my eyes and headed toward my truck. “Why is that?” I called over my shoulder.

“Because, judging from that look he just gave you, you’re already on his bad side.”

I leveled a gaze at the boy.“I think I can take care of myself.” My tone was haughty and full of rebuke as I climbed into the cab of my truck, slamming the door before he could even think of continuing the conversation. So much for civility.

The next day dawned bright and sunny, surprising me. Quickly, I tugged on my jeans and tossed a black sweater over my head, yanking a comb through my wavy hair as I brushed my teeth. As usual, I slept poorly the night before and felt groggy, cranky. Or maybe Forks just made me that way.

Forty six more weeks to go, I reminded myself sternly as I frowned at my reflection in the mirror in the small cramped bathroom I shared with Charlie. Seemed like an eternity. As I coaxed the old truck toward Forks High School, I silently prayed the day would be short and sweet.

I’d managed to avoid all but some curious stares my first few weeks at school. One or two people had tried to approach me and I handled it coolly, politely, even though I was desperately wishing everyone would just leave me alone. I wasn’t exactly planning on staying in Forks long, after all. All those kids, eager to make friends with me, only wanted to because I was new. I was interesting. It would only be a matter of time before they realized that I was not someone they wanted to be friends with. I was good at the role of New Girl, thanks to Renee and constantly moving me from city to city, and I knew how this would ultimately end. They did not; I was really doing them all a favor by remaining aloof.

I had nothing in common with any of them, anyway. Especially here, where everyone knew each other from the cradle. Their families grew up together, shared holidays together, planned vacations together. 'Together' was a foreign concept to me and I couldn’t fit in even if I tried. And I had stopped trying a long time ago. It was inevitable that by the time I actually made a friend, Renee would be telling me to pack my bags.

The truck door swung shut with a groan that was grating enough to be heard over the music filtering into my ears. They’re waiting to hate you so give them an excuse/ they say it changed you I know that can’t be true… I snorted at the song – how utterly fitting.

“Hi Bella!” Jessica Stanley planted herself in front of me as I walked toward Biology class, Mike Newton trotting by her side. I should probably have realized that I went to school with him when I met him yesterday, but everyone looked the same to me. With an unsettling twinge I became aware that I had barely paid attention to my classmates these past few weeks. A careless mistake. I needed to categorize them, learn which ones were the bullies, or who carried weight with the student body, should I ever need to get on their good side. High school wasn’t about being sociable. It was business.

Jessica was perky and pert, a dirty blond with big breasts that I thought Mike should be ogling instead of mine. She was also totally useless to me, a brainless sheep intent on following her peers as they marched toward future mediocrity.

“Hi Jessica,” I mumbled, trying to skirt around her,“Mike.”

“It’s a beautiful day!” Jessica prattled on, “isn’t it? We should, like, totally do something after school today –“

“Um, thanks Jess, but I can’t,” I cut her off abruptly, “look, I’ve got to run to Biology.They messed up my schedule and this is my first time in that class, so I don’t want to be late.”

Jessica’s face crumpled at my lack of enthusiasm, but she threw me a 100-watt smile and flounced off, with Mike somewhat reluctantly following after her.

Conversations stuttered when I walked into the classroom and handed the teacher my pass, ignoring the stares and whispers as I made my way to the chair Mr. Banner gestured toward.I slid into it, thankful that the seat next to me was empty and hopeful it would remain that way. But as the classroom I filled, I realized the chances of that were slim to none.

The door swung open, my gaze automatically rising to see who was walking through.Recognition swept over me and I started to laugh.

It was the Volvo driver. Quickly, I ducked my head, smothering my laughter with a faux cough. He raked the chair across the linoleum next to me and flopped into it, without even bothering to glance in my direction.

I choked back another snicker, peeking through the lock of hair that separated us to surreptitiously study him. I wasn’t concerned with him recognizing me from yesterday – I had had my hood up in the rain and I was too ordinary to stand out, anyway.

His features were regal and beautiful; I wondered how long he spent in the morning trying to achieve his seemingly-effortless tousled bronze hair. He had that arrogant affectation of people who know they are good looking; easy and unconcerned, as if he could get anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers. It occurred to me that probably could. His clothes were expensive but not ostentatious, and I was well aware of the vehicle he drove. Edward Cullen.

I tried to dredge up what little information I had heard whispered about the Cullens. Ridiculously wealthy, living in an area where most were middle class. There were two brothers – Emmett and Edward. How cute, I thought to myself wryly, that their parents gave them names starting with the same letter. And how utterly, completely pretentious. Carlisle Cullen was a successful doctor, but I knew nothing about his wife. Probably one of those pampered housewives who sat home all day, watching soap operas and getting pedicures.

I leaned back softly in my chair and suddenly his greenish eyes slanted in my direction. There was no expression behind them at first as he took in my plain face and simple hair. Then something flickered and I inwardly groaned as his eyes narrowed and he smirked. Damn. He recognized me. I sniffed haughtily and turned my focus to my textbook.

He didn’t look at me again the entire class and the second the bell rang, I bolted, eager to be out of the classroom. I had a free period after Biology, which I utilized most efficiently by hiding in my truck, listening to music and doodling on my notebooks.

The sunny day had long since disappeared behind the cloud cover and a soft mist was falling. I fumbled with my iPod, my hand feeling around the depths of my book bag when I heard footsteps behind me, quiet but unmistakable. I turned quickly to find Edward Cullen bearing down on me.

“Nice ride.” He gestured rudely to my truck; I noticed his coat was casually unbuttoned, as if it were somehow a conscious move. Something dark lingered in his eyes; his tight smile seemed more like a grimace. There was nothing complimentary in his tone.

“Thanks,” I replied, turning slightly so I could start walking toward my vehicle.

“You’re Isabella Swan.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I’m Edward.” He was suddenly in front of me and I stopped short, hackles rising. I knew his type – thought he was the best thing since sliced bread. I was just the plain mousy girl who flipped him off from her decrepit truck. No way was he going to let this one go. He couldn’t. His ego rested on putting me in my place, which he clearly thought was beneath him.

“Yeah.” I didn’t know what else to say, since ‘fuck you’ didn’t seem like it would help my situation. “Nice to meet you.”

“Listen,” his voice turned conversational, with no threat hidden.“You’re new here so I’m going to give you a little pass.” His eyes hardened again. “But don’t ever fuck with me, again. Understood?”

His harsh words startled me even though I was waiting for them and my mouth opened slightly; no words came out. Then I remembered myself. It was a familiar scene, just like being New Girl. This was Taming of the Teenage Shrew. Each of Renee’s boyfriends tried to do it – tried to teach me ‘my place’. As if I didn’t already know their opinion of me. But they were men - Edward Cullen was just a boy.

“Oh, please,” I laughed at him, drinking in his shocked face. “Give me a break. I’ve dealt with worse than you.”

I turned my back on him and walked to my truck, smiling triumphantly. No one fucked with Bella Swan.

Chapter 2: Caution (is a word I can't understand)

The next day at school was more of the same and I feared I had entered into some kind of Groundhog Day twilight zone, without Bill Murray, which would have at least made it interesting. The constant stream of music pulsing through my headphones kept me calm enough that I could swallow a growl when Jessica greeted me in the hall, oblivious to my disinterest. I was even able to refrain from injuring Mike Newton as he tried to sear holes into my sweatshirt with eyes again.

Edward had reached Biology before me and I made no mention of our conversation. I didn’t even look at him, pointedly ignoring the daggers he was directing at me as I fiddled with the iPod.
Edward cleared his throat. “Bella-“

“Don’t talk to me,” I interrupted flatly. He hissed through his teeth, drawing in breath to say something else but the teacher walked into the classroom. I just shook my head and buried myself in the textbook, propping it up lazily against my arm and effectively blocking my sight from Edward.

As I hurried to my truck, I heard footsteps behind me in the parking lot and this time I stopped, waiting for Edward to catch up.

“Bella,” his voice was smooth honey,“I’m impressed, I have to say.” He chuckled in a self-depreciating way but I knew it was a ruse, an act.“Most people don’t-“

I held my hand up to stop him.“What part of ‘don’t talk to me’ do you not understand?” I asked bluntly. His jaw tightened.

“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” I continued as I walked,“let’s just agree to disagree and leave it at that, okay?”

“No.” Edward grabbed my arm, knocking my back pack off. I scowled, pulling my arm from his grasp. Enemy- show me what you wanna be/I can handle anything/even if I can't handle you/ Readily, either way it better be... I smiled softly, rolling out my shoulders to ease the tension I felt there. Then I straightened up as tall as I could go, catching Edward's eyes in a stony gaze.

“Fine,” I snapped,“have it your way. But I don’t play games like this, so if you want someone to spar with, you’re looking at the wrong person. I don't care who you are or how great you think you might be, so why don't you find someone who'll be suitably impressed and just leave me alone? Go play arrogant little rich boy with someone else.”

He face darkened with fury. I took an involuntary step back, surprised by the sudden anger that flared within him, for the first time questioning whether or not there was something about Edward Cullen I should be worried about, when suddenly someone called his name. We both looked up and a petite, elfin girl with choppy black hair was waving furiously, trying to get his attention.

“I think your girlfriend is calling you,” I grumbled, secretly thankful for the distraction.

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he replied, studying me piercingly, his greenish eyes locking onto my brown ones, "and this isn't over."

He smiled one last unfriendly grin and turned on his heel, striding toward the pixie girl. I fled to the sanctity of my truck.

“Hey, Charlie,” I leaned against the wooden frame of the door, spooning pasta from a bowl. Charlie looked up, vaguely annoyed that I was interrupting his game. My presence made him uncomfortable. Not that I could blame him – he’d lived alone ever since Renee left him. “What do you know of the Cullens?”

“Not much.” His eyes were glued to the television. “Except that the youngest, Emmett, no… Edward is a bit of a trouble maker. Had to haul him in a few times.”

“Oh,” I chewed thoughtfully as I debated to press more information. I decided to silently file what Charlie just told me and feign disinterest instead. “Thanks.”

Charlie twisted to look at me, eyes narrowing to slits, moustache twitching almost comically as he chewed. “Just stay away from the Cullens. I don’t need you getting into trouble with them.”

“I plan on staying far away,” I promised him, “don’t worry about that.”

“Renee told me to keep an eye on you.” Charlie shoveled some pasta into his mouth. “But don’t forget – I’m only doing this because” he paused, searching for the words, a little chagrined, “there wasn’t anyone else that would.“

As if I could forget that. “Yup. Thanks, Charlie.”

Turning abruptly, I tossed my bowl into the sink and headed up to my room, taking the stairs two at a time. Though I knew that he didn’t mean to, Charlie’s words hurt more than I would ever let on. I knew I was an infant when Renee got her claws into him and I barely remember the time spent living with Charlie before Renee split, taking me with her. I suppose I should have felt more grateful. But I didn’t.

I kicked my sneakers off and crawled under the quilt on my little bed, spinning the iPod wheel absently, focusing on keeping my mind blank, so I wouldn't have to think about anything anymore. I filled it with music instead and slowly, finally drifted off to sleep. Got bitten fingernails and a head full of the past/And everybody's gone at last/Sweet, sweet smile that's fading fast'/Cos everybody's gone at last/Don't get upset about it/No not anymore...

I kept my word to Charlie and ignored Edward Cullen. It wasn’t too hard, except for Biology class. He no longer tried to talk to me but I could feel his eyes on me sometimes, scrutinizing. And I secretly watched him, too.

He ate lunch with the same people every day but otherwise kept to himself. If he noticed all the girls swooning after him he never acknowledged it, ignoring their pathetic pleading glances as he strode confidently through the halls. The boys, on the other hand, seemed to give both Edward and his brother a wide berth. I had hoped to find out why but the school was oddly mum.

As the weeks passed, I melted into the crowd – the quiet girl with the iPod permanently affixed to her person. I preferred it that way. I was just another girl in another school. Invisible. It was a comforting feeling - one I was intimate with.

One Saturday afternoon, the sky dark and muddy, I decided to take a trip to Port Angeles. A band that I considered a favorite was playing at a local legion hall in the area. For the first time in nearly two and half months since I’d been living with Charlie, I felt free, happy, and I immersed myself in the music, reveling in the loudness of it all. The music was hard, fast and angry and I jostled and shoved with the rest of the crowd, screaming along with the lyrics. It was such a relief, a release, as all the tension rolled from my body and dissipated into the writhing deluge of people . By the time the band was finished, I spilled onto the street with the rest of the mob, drinking in the cool crisp air. Most of my hair had fallen out of its rubber band and clung sticky to my forehead and neck. Sighing, I pulled the rest free, running my hands through the tangles, shaking my head as I plucked at my drenched t-shirt, trying to cool down.

“Hey!” a voice called. I turned to see a man walking towards me. He was handsome, older than I was; I recognized him from the show.

“Hey,” I returned the greeting warily.

“That was some fucking show, huh?” He smiled widely at me, his brown eyes polite but sparkling with left over adrenaline from the show.

“Yeah, it was great. They always play an amazing show,” I added lamely. Awkwardly, I twisted my hair back into a messy ponytail, and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans.

“You’ve seen them a bunch of times?” he seemed impressed.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “They used to play around a lot when I lived in Phoenix.”

“Rock on.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Hey, some buddies and I are getting some drinks at the pub down the street. Want to come?”

“Er, I’m not twenty one,” I flushed, as if my age was something to be embarrassed of.

“No biggie. We’ll get you in.” He squinted at me, a little suspiciously. “You’re… eighteen, right?”

“Uh huh.” I was a terrible liar but I nodded enthusiastically, suddenly intrigued by the prospect of sneaking into a bar. This was a new opportunity and one I didn’t want to miss out on.

One drink wouldn’t kill me. I’d sip it slowly and hang out for awhile, maybe find out more about the music scene in Port Angeles. If I could get my fill of bands then maybe, just maybe, this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

His three friends came up to us then and introductions were made. Obediently, I followed them down the street, making small talk as we walked. I was so involved in my conversation I didn’t hear someone calling my name until the guy, James, nudged me. I turned and sucked in my breath angrily.

“Bella Swan!” Edward walked purposefully toward me and I cringed, silently praying he wouldn’t make a scene in front of the older boys.

“Edward,” I said tightly.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, his arms folded imperiously across his broad chest. The older boys were watching, mildly curious. Edward looked ridiculously out of place among them. They wore plain white t-shirts and jeans, wet with sweat and exertion, some stained, others torn. All four of them had shaved heads and a slightly menacing demeanor. Edward was wearing some kind of expensive looking button-down shirt, his hair perfectly tousled as always, his jeans fitting in all the right places. He looked like he just stepped out of a J. Crew ad. If I hadn’t been so concerned about what he was up to, I would have laughed.

“None of your business.”

“Hey, is this your boyfriend?” James gestured toward Edward, eying him up with an inscrutible expression, a slow smile spreading on his face. Edward didn’t even look at him, just kept his eyes trained on me.

“No!” I vehemently protested.

His friend tugged on his arm. “C’mon, man. Ditch the girl and let’s go. I need to get my drink on! Petey’s Pub is waiting for us, dude!”

“A bar?” Edward turned his attention to the men, cocking his brow. “You were going to take a seventeen year old girl to a bar?”

I wanted to murder him right then and there. Rage crashed in my ears, drowning out the conversation around me. With one last dirty look in my direction, the men left me standing alone on the sidewalk with Edward, who was smiling at me triumphantly. Die, die, die my darling…

My mouth worked soundlessly as the fury consumed me and his smug grin grew. I was perilously close to punching him and I knew no good would come of it. Instead, I turned and stalked away. Edward laughed behind me.

“Bella, stop!” he commanded. I ignored him, cutting down an alleyway toward my car.

“Bella!” He grabbed my arm roughly. “I said stop.”

“I don’t care what you said!” I exploded, flinging him from me. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

His grin returned. “I was helping you out.”

“Help-helping me out?!” I stuttered over my anger, “what a load of bullshit!” I turned to go but he blocked my way. I pushed. Edward pushed back and the rage roared inside me, taking over. I shoved him as hard as I could, and then aimed a small fist into his gut. He gave a surprised ‘oomph’ and stumbled back. Before I could even cock my fist back again, I found myself up against the wall, my hands held painfully behind my back and Edward’s face a mere inch from mine.

"Knock it off,” he growled, “and listen to me. Stupid girl. What were you thinking? Did you think those boys were going to buy you a drink and let you go on your merry way?” His lips twisted in annoyance.
“You’re hurting me!” I hissed, struggling. He pressed his body closer to mine.

“Good!” he spat, “I’m not hurting you nearly as much as they could have.” He released me and I rubbed my wrists, glaring. When I started to leave, Edward blocked me again.

“Admit it,” he demanded. I stared at him, incredulous and confused. His eyes flashing, he crossed his arms over his chest, legs akimbo, clearly not ready to let me leave.

“Admit what?”

“That I helped you.”

I tried to push against him, cautiously. He wouldn’t budge. I bit back the frustrated noise growing in my throat.

“No. I didn't ask for your help and I certainly don't need it."

Edward sighed, “I won’t let you leave until you do.”

“You’re so annoying,” I told him. He only smiled.

“Admit it,” he insisted, “admit that I helped you.”

"I don’t get you,” I huffed peevishly, “but, fine. You helped me. Okay? Now will you leave me alone?” I gave him another tentative push and he let me aside. His footsteps fell into line with mine.

“Didn’t it occur to you that those men might have ulterior motives?” his voice was quieter now.

“They were just being friendly.” I rubbed my wrists and looked down. My knuckles were scraped from the brick of the building. "Do you always feel the need to manhandle girls?"

Edward snorted. “Only when she's about to do something really dangerous and stupid. I figured you were a little more astute than that. The only reason a guy would bring a young pretty girl into a bar is to take advantage of her.”

“Whatever.” I ducked my head to hide a small surprised smile at his words. “They just wanted to talk music.”

“Uh huh,” Edward put a soft hand on my forearm, lifting it up, frowning as he studied my scraped hand. “You’re going to bruise.”

“Yeah, well, that’s your fault.”

“What will Charlie say?”

I shrugged. “I doubt he’d notice. But if he does, I’ll tell him I got it the show.”

“Is that where you were?” Edward scrutinized me, surprised. “You didn’t strike me as the punk rock kind of girl.”

“You don’t know me.”

“No,” he murmured, more to himself. “I suppose I don’t.”

And for your smutty pleasure...

Le Petit Mort

“Bella.” It is a single word, my name, spoken in a tone that is both authoritative and reverent.

I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. His voice sends prickles of electricity along my skin, coldly painful, as if each nerve was standing up, reaching for him, begging him.

He waits for me to find my voice. I imagine his amber eyes, hooded and searching, as he dips into the patience he has little of.

I find it. It is no more than a breath, barely a whisper but he hears it. He always hears it when I answer.

“Yes, Edward?”

It is dark in the room and I cannot see. A shiver trembles down my spine, my body taut as I sit at the edge of the bed.

A match strikes – a beacon of light that chases the darkness for just a moment, illuminating Edward’s face, all angles and planes, stoic and masculine. In that one moment, he’s wearing an expression I have never seen and my belly tightens. His eyes are dark, sharp. He is hunting.

The match flares again as Edward touches it to a candle. The smell of something heady, opiate, fills the air. He turns his bare back to me, muscles rippling as he bends slightly, placing the candle on top of the dresser drawers. When he faces me, there is still hunger in his eyes as he rakes a hand carelessly through the tousled bronze of his hair.

I watch him cross the room, an excited trepidation growing in my belly. The polarity of my emotions confuse me further; my mind spins endlessly, out of control.
“Bella.” He says my name again, languidly, his voice honey smooth, a sharp contrast to the rugged angles of his face so near to mine. “Do you know what I plan on doing to you?”

There is a hint of amusement in his voice now. Eyes wide, I can only stare, my heart pounding wildly in my chest, thumping against my ribs.

“No,” I whisper, frozen as he drops to his knees in front of me and gently pulls at a lock of my hair, idly wrapping it around his finger.

His grin is wicked.

He leans in so closely I am overwhelmed by his scent, the intoxicatingly delicious odor that eradicates all other thoughts and makes me want to curl desperately into him. He places a kiss on my cheek, his breath sweet against my flesh. Slowly, he moves forward and up, tracing my jaw line with soft lips, tickling my earlobes for a moment before he delicately bites down.

A shockwave of heat explodes beneath my skin and I gasp.

“Everything,” he whispers into my ear. “I’m going to do everything to you.”

I can barely hear him over the crashing of heat in my ears.

He grins again, suddenly wrapping his long elegant fingers around my wrist. The change is jarring as his grip tightens, pulling me to my feet. I stumble and feel the warmth blossoming across my cheeks as I blush. Edward says nothing, just leans down and tenderly kisses my neck, his tongue drawing sensuous lines along my collarbone. He lifts my arms up over my head and holds them there, regarding me with smoldering dark eyes.

“Don’t move,” he orders me, regarding me hungrily. Helplessly, I obey, awaiting his next move with a mix of wariness and desire. Edward takes a step back, his smile curving in that crooked grin I love so much. It’s warmth does not quite reach his feral eyes. Involuntarily, I feel myself shudder slightly.

Edward tugs roughly at my t-shirt, pulling it from my jeans, keeping his eyes on mine, watching; he misses nothing as my emotions flicker. I am completely naked before him, yet fully clothed; he sees everything and drinks it in.

His fingers move slowly along my torso as he pulls my shirt up, sending electric charges throughout my entire body. He takes the time to enjoy each centimeter of the flesh I willingly offer to him. My vision is temporarily obscured by my shirt as he draws it over my breasts before finally tossing it aside freeing me.

I sigh… Edward smiles.

Fingers trace my hips, the small of my back, the curve of my waist. Those long, lean fingers caress my breasts through my bra and my nipples harden as I lean my head back so Edward can kiss the hollow of my neck. A low moan escapes my lips.

“Good,” he whispers, wrapping a fistful of hair in his hand, gently. “Good, Bella.”

He removes my bra with one quick flip of his wrist, watches as I shimmy out of it and it flutters to the floor; I stand before him, my breasts bare. Those silken fingers trace my nipples carelessly, and I gasp as a thousand shivers wrack my body.

Edward chuckles. “Do you like that?”

“Oh, yes,” the words rush out of my mouth almost too eagerly, betraying my desire, and Edward steps closer, wrapping one strong arm around my waist, his taut belly pressed against mine. I can feel his excitement as he uses his free hand to brush over my nipples. I moan again. And again, as he rolls them between his thumb and index firmly.

The sharpness of a sudden pinch startles me and I cry out. The pain recedes immediately, overtaken by an excited warmth that has traveled between my legs. I smile, somewhat shyly yet with a touch of brazenness that is new to me.

Edward grins devilishly and licks his lips before lowering his mouth to my swollen nipple. Pleasure floods me, my body is no longer mine to control. I shudder as desire courses through me, burying my hands in Edward’s hair, gripping it tightly.

With a growl he lifts me from my feet and we hit the bed with such force the frame grumbles in protest. He reaches for my jeans, kneeling over me, the muscles on his arms taut; I see that he’s straining, trying not to give in to his desire to rip the remaining clothes from my body. His eyes meet mine as he pushes me back on the bed and yanks my jeans from me, pulling hard at my panties until a seam rips in defeat.

His breath is coming nearly as hard as mine, his movements urgent now, needy. His tongue is insistent against my nipples. Almost without realizing, I try to push him away; the sensation is almost more than I can take… Not to be thwarted, he gathers my wrists together easily in one hand, leaving his other free to explore my body. Which he does.

“Edward!” I whimper. “Please. I can’t take it,”

“I’ve only just begun,” Edward leans up to me, kisses me lips gently, lovingly. I can see my near-frenzied desire, naked and flushed, in his golden eyes. I am nearly panting, inhaling and exhaling in quick, shallow rasps. My eyes widen as his fingers trace over my belly, and come to rest on my thigh, nudging softly but insistently for access. A soft mew escapes my lips as his fingers press against my clit, still teasing me, moving in small circles. The mew turns to growl and I raise my hips to meet his fingers.

Edward gives me a look: You asked for it.

His fingers plunge inside me, quick and hard, shocking and pleasing all at once and I nearly scream as he grabs me, rocks me back and forth against his hand, his thumb rubbing my clit demandingly.

“Is that what you want?” he whispers hotly in my ear. Incapable of speech, I can only groan, bucking against him.

“Say it and I’ll give you more,” Edward offers, his voice a soft purr.


He chuckles softy, keeping his eyes on mine as he begins his descent, kissing my stomach lovingly, his hands moving to firmly grip my hips.

“Open wider,” he whispers against my pubic bone, his breath hot and moist.

I obey and he grins as he slowly licks my clit. Gently at first, slight circles, around, until I am arching my back, breath hissing helplessly between my teeth. Another chuckles reverberates against my cunt, sending a wave a pleasure washing over me.

Edward takes his time, nipping at me, caressing me, holding my trembling body firmly to him until I can no longer speak, overcome as wave after wave of orgasm washes over me.

His eyes are livid with passion when he emerges, slowly drawing his face to mine, his gaze unwavering as he pulls himself up while remaining between my legs, hovering so closely I can feel heat emanating from him.

“Are you ready?” he whispers. I moan and nod.

“You are my life now, Bella,” he leans in, kisses my neck. I nod again, closing my eyes languidly, expectantly.

“I will always be love you,” Edward continues, stroking my face. “Forever.”

“Yes,” I whisper, as the fire stirs once again in me.

There is a pain, sharp and sudden, as Edward takes me completely, lowering himself into me, amber eyes blazing with love, passion, and desire. I gasp, overcome by sensation, by emotion, as his teeth break the flesh of my neck. He moves lovingly as he spreads his venom inside me and I can feel the orgasm build, even as my life ebbs. Le petit mort…

I come, exploding, as Edward cries out above me with his own pleasure.

Little death. Big death. Life and death, inexorably intertwined, unable to exist without the other. Death is merely a transition from one life, one existence, to another. As Edward lays next to me, brushing a strand of hair from my reddened cheek, I know I am dying. He leans in, kissing me lovingly, and I am reborn. I know I will be reborn.