Friday, April 30, 2010

From Pickles to Peens - The Vampsicle Dialogues.

I like pickles. You know, like pickled cucumbers or whatever the fuck they are. I always have a jar in the house and often I'll pop one in my mouth when I get home from work to kind of tide me over until dinner is ready.

Nom, nom, nom...

ML and I were in the kitchen a few weeks ago and I couldn't find the pickle jar and was freaking out so ML said he had a pickle for me right here and somehow or another a conversation about pickles ended with us discussing cocks, which then turned into talking about stupid shit people put on the internet, like the girl who kept a list of the boys she gave blowjobs to and her brother found it and posted it on Facebook. Personally, I think she almost deserved it, since she was the one foolish enough to not only keep a list but also to leave it lying around.

When I say people put stupid shit up on the internet, I mean it. Literally.

As most conversations about the internet and random shit do, this one came full circle and landed square on the topic of Twitarded and vampires.

ML - You put weird stuff up on the internet
Me - [genuinely offended for some deranged reason] I do not!
ML - You talk about vampires.
Me - Yeah, but I don't post lists of the guys I've given blowjobs to. [thinks a minute] Well, I mean, the only time I talk about blowjobs I don't really mean it. [Mainly because it's an impossibility...]
[Any normal woman would shift this conversation away from the fact that she obviously discusses blowjobs, and not necessarily with her partner, but noooooo...]
ML - [looks alarmed] You talk about giving blowjobs on the blog?
Me - Er, well, not exactly. I mean, yes but he's a fictional vampire character! With a cold penis.
ML - That doesn't sound fun.
Me - People stick ice-cubes up their cooters and seem to enjoy it. [I read this on the internet so it must be true.]
ML - [Winces a little] Still doesn't sound fun.
Me - If you were gay, it wouldn't hurt as much if a vampire stuck his ice cold cock in your ass because it would be cold and, you know, numb your pooper.
ML - You've really given this a lot of thought. [sounding slightly disturbed]
Me - What? You wouldn't want to have sex with a female vampire if her vagina is icy?
ML - No! That sounds gross.
Me - Well, they can't help it, they don't have body temperature so I guess it has to be cold. I mean, you wouldn't even do it out of curiosity?
ML - I don't sleep with dead people.

Annnnd point taken.

Here's the thing: I don't normally allow other people to get the last word in. I have to have the last word. It's necessary. But it occurred to me, after I raced to the computer to write the conversation down, and ML kind of huffed because he knew it was going to end up here, that maybe I should let him have the last word. If I didn't, ML might get curious what I write about all day long and come to Twitarded to check it out.

We don't want that.


Especially since I talk about more than just blowjobs...

Thursday, April 29, 2010

A New Addition To The Twitarded Family!

It's that time again! Almost, anyway... All the hot stars are adopting and we're not going to be left out! Ok, that might be a bit of a stretch, but it's time for me to place an order online somewhere, stalk the UPS man for the next 48-72 hours, and wait for the Twitarded stork to arrive with the newest addition to our Twilight-y family. Twilight Full-Size Edward and New Moon Full-Size Edward are getting a brother! Honestly, I can't wait to add Eclipse Edward to our current collection of FSEs! I mean, the more the merrier, right??? Our current two Edwards are at Jenny Jerkface's house, and I must come clean and admit that I've been remiss and not been a very good standee mom... One of them - and I won't name names (but it's the cuter one) - has fallen victim to domestic violence. I KNOW!! It's terrible!!! What we learned from this horrid experience: never leave your Edward standee unattended when your s/o is harboring murderous thoughts towards you or resenting the amount of time you spend on all things Twilight. It doesn't end well. For anyone. Just ask JJ and Twilight Edward. [JJ's note: What? He said Edward FELL on the stick, okay?]

Moving on... SO. Check out the new Eclipse Edward standee! I've seen him getting razzed here and there but honestly I think he looks aaah-aight... Much better than grandpa-tweed-wearing, constipation-faced, looking-at-some-random-thing-on-the-horizon-but-never-you New Moon Edward.

Click and then clicky again to make BIG [that's what she said] -

You will scare people in the night.
And maybe go to Medieval Times for photo ops, if we can afford it.
Just because.

This Edward standee is...not bad. I think the outfit is better than that awful suit and the crotch looks...promising and perhaps worthy of a dusting of glitter. However, in keeping with the Saga movie "hit with the ugly stick" tradition, he's not as hot as Robert Pattinson, but not too shabby. But I'm thinking that maybe there is a missed opportunity here...

Who wouldn't pay a few bucks to have a life-size Robert Pattinson standee (or five) gracing their humble abodes? Bring them on! I want to put them in every nook and cranny of the house [er, JJ's house] every time I have a party! Hell, with enough standees, who even needs to invite anyone over to have a soiree? Your house would be filled with well-mannered guests who won't raid your liquor cabinet or pantry, rag on your music selections, or puke into your potted plants.

RPatts standees [FSRPs?] I'd like to get my hands on [if I had photoshop skillz this would be funnier but pretend along with me here, ok?]:

Full-Size Shirtless Edward!
(tweed pants must be removable; airbrushed abs can stay; he definitely glitters)
Full-Size Mischievous-Grin Rob!
Who wouldn't like to wake up to that look? Other than your s/o?

FS Wife-beater Smokin' Rob!

Stoli-shirt Rob FSE - yum!!!

FS Beanie RPatts!!

If I had any one of these I might be one of those weird people who takes a blow-up doll or Japanese pillow with them everywhere and pretends it's real (I'm not elaborating on this - look it up if you dare). Just sayin'... The blog would definitely suffer. As would my marriage.

Do you think they'll charge us extra to take all three FSEs to Forks??? I mean, they HAVE to come along - it's a pilgrimage to their homeland! Plus think of the photo ops! And they do fold up nicely... Uh, maybe I'll ship them ahead rather than spend a day or two explaining to airport security why I need to travel with an ahh-mee of cardboard Edwards...

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

The Twilight Movie Franchise: Making Hawt People Fugly Since 2008

I know we've discussed the...clusterfuck that is hair, makeup and outfits in all the Twilight movies ad nauseum. I mean, we're getting to the beating-a-dead-horse stage here. Over the last year and a half, we've basically ripped the movies limb from limb and burned the pieces.

But I just can't let it go.

I just don't get it. I have no idea how one franchise can take a bunch of really good looking smoking hot people and then beat the ever living shit out of them with the ugly stick. Seriously.

Exhibit A: Alice Cullen, aka Little Lord Fauntleroy.

If I wanted to, this post would be the fucking l-o-n-g-e-s-t post ever because there is simply that much fodder to go around. I could could wax poetic all day pointing out how they've managed to uglify nearly every single person in that cast.

Exhibit B: Shockingly, this is actually the best wig in the saga...

But I won't, if only because statistically, the average blog reader has the attention span of a rabid squirrel. And, frankly, so do I.

So, I'm going to focus on one thing and one thing only:

What the hell did they DO to Jackson Rathbone?

Jackson's not the only thing that's wet...

Jackson is hot. He's handsome, he has a cute little smile and dimples and he's just... yum.

Hellooooo cutiepie... I've got something you can put in your mouth...

Fine, he might not be your cup of tea or whatever but he's got the looks. Just admit it.

Thing is, you wouldn't know that from watching the movies, because so far Jasper has run the gamut of looking like a constipated poodle to looking like a fucking tranny who got in a fight with a flour bag. And lost. Badly.

It's like I'm watching the Evolution of Totally Shitty Hair.

Poodle-riffic. See? Even Alice and her bad wig is checking out his hair and trying not to laugh.

Aww, it's Little Lord Fauntleroy and her boyfriend, Muppethead.

I apparently skipped over the part in the books where Jasper gets a sex change...

Oh mah gahd, THE HAIR!! It's sofa king BAD. I mean, seriously--even he's trying to run away from it...

geteroff, geteroff, GETEROFF MY HEAD!!!

It just baffles me that it seems like Summit & Co. have actively been working to make the characters look like total freaky douchesters.

Why, Summit?! WHY?

Incidentally, want to know who actually looked fucking great throughout the Twilight and New Moon films?

Conspiracy? Possibly.

Okay, probably not. But honestly, why the fuck can't Summit get this shit right? These are vampires. They're supposed to be beautiful and enticing and... well, it's just not happening. Not consistently.

I know I have a better chance of RPattz hunting me down and professing his undying love and affection for me, but I'm really hopeful they get that shit right in Breaking Dawn.

Oh please. Who am I kidding?

What Summit needs is one of us to be on-set. At all times. You have all suggested it numerous times before and you're totally fucking right.

We'll stop them from dressing Alice like a... a fucknut and keep them from making Jasper look like a pasty-twatty poodled-assface. No more mauve lipstick for Edward or ridicky-donk wig for Rosalie (though it looks like they finally got this right in Eclipse. Maybe).

We would get it right. Twitard's Honor.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Has Anyone Seen My Filter? I Seemed to Have Misplaced It.

I'm sure a lot of you can relate to what I'm about to say. In the past couple of years, I have completely lost my brain-to-mouth filter. I no longer think before I speak--sometimes it's ok and funny shit comes spilling out and everyone laughs and no one gets hurt. Sometimes, this is not ok, and dirty shit escapes before I can rein it in.

When I'm around all of my Twitarded friends, the filter is unnecessary because, well, this is a filterless society... right? When I'm out with my real life friends that know about my Twilight obsession, but have no idea of my Twitardedness, the filter is a crucial piece to keeping those friends in the dark. I sometimes forget who requires filtering and who does not. I know my parents always need the filter. Although I did recently tell my mom all about my FanFiction addiction - conveniently leaving out the whole part about how most of it is semi-pornographic and it makes me turn into a big fat slutty whore... she SO does not need to know that about me.

Stop blaming JJ and STY for your lack of a filter.
We all know you've always been a whore (and personally, I like it.)

I never realized how much cursing I do until I go out with people who don't swear. A fucking filter would be handy at times like this. My potty mouth is a direct result of my job where if "fuck" hasn't been blurted out a dozen times before 9am, it's not a normal day. So of course, this word becomes part of my vocabulary and I have a difficult time keeping 'er in check. Especially around kids. Ooops. And my dad is not fond of listening to me spew that kind of filth, which makes it difficult when we play golf together because I want to scream it at the top of my lungs every time I hit a bad shot. Which is often, by the way.

Case in point: dinner out with two girlfriends (mentioned above) the other night. Both have read the Twilight Saga. One has read it just once, has watched the movies, and has never been a huge fan but likes it ok. (Psssssh, what the fuck, dude?!) And the other, well, I've had a bit more influence on her... she's read the books twice, and owns both movies, and is anxious to give FanFic a try (good girl!). So they both know the stories... know I'm nuts about them... know of my impending trip to Forks... know I'm a FanFic addict... buuuuut, I guess neither of them knew I was a dirty whore. But after our dinner? Uh oh--guess the pussy's out of the bag now!

How can you not want to watch these people 24-7? I don't understand...

Somehow, of all things--and I am not saying I steered us in this direction and I'm not saying I didn't--we get to talking about the sparkly parts of vampires while at the restaurant. The conversation went a little something like this:
Mel B.: So do we need to get you some sparkly powder to sprinkle on Mr. Latchkey Wife while he's sleeping?
LKW: Nope, I don't think that's necessary.
MB: Oh ya, that would be hilarious... he wakes up while you're dusting his face with sparkles.
LKW: Um, not his face...
MB: Ahhhhh...
Katie: [puts fingers in ears] La la la la la la, I don't need to hear this...
MB: I am not going to be able to get that image out of my head.
LKW: Sorry. [tries to change subject] You know a sex toy company recently came out with a sparkly dildo called "The Vamp."
MB: Wha? OMG, we are so getting that for you.
LKW: [finds The Vamp on iPhone and proceeds to read the description in my not-so-indoor-voice at the restaurant] Oh right, here it is... it even sparkles in the sun, in case you need to pleasure yourself in the backyard.
KT: [blushes, giggles]
MB: [blushes, giggles; looks away and pretends she doesn't know me...]
The funny thing about the conversation? MB and KT will go home and tell their husbands the whole sparkly story. MB's husband is Mr. Latchkey's bff, so he'll get the whole story too. So I basically came home and said "I'm sure Mr. MB will be calling you soon to tell you all about the sparkly dildo we talked about at dinner." He just looked at me and said "Huh?" Uh, never mind - you'll find out soon enough...

Google "the vamp" - some weird ass (and naked) shit comes up.

Twitarded minds want to know... has the online fandom world of Twilight (or specifically Twitarded) completely stripped you of your natural ability to filter what you say and made people raise their eyebrow at you like you're a freak? Do you think sparkly sex toys are fair game to discuss at brunch? Make random comments about penis size and playrooms in mixed company? Have you found yourself faced with a sea of slack-jawed and appalled faces when you slip up around your non-Twi friends? Share it in the comments - you know we'll understand.

Eclipse Trailer: The Good, The Bad & The Attack of the Newborn Zombie Vampires

In typical Twitarded fashion [i.e. late and vaguely apologetic about it but not that apologetic], it's time to dig into the Eclipse trailer that was released on Friday. The plan was to do this post on Friday night (yeah, yeah - the road to hell is paved with good intentions and all that shit...) but then JJ came over to Casa Snarky and we had dinner and ate and drank too much wine and then went out to catch some live music... and yeah. No. It didn't happen. Soooo... time to get to it!

As I mentioned periodically throughout the weekend on the blog and on Twitter, I thought the trailer was damn good but since I gotta be me, I still have a lot of smack to talk about it. As I try to explain to Mr. Snarky when we go out to eat and I give a running critique of the meal, it doesn't mean I'm not enjoying it; raking shit over the coals is just part of the enjoyment process for me (and jftr and I waited tables for years AND I am an awesome tipper and unfailingly polite to restaurant staffers).

Anyhoo, I thought that I would be able to pepper this post with lots of relevant screencaps from the trailer, since I got an email from Twilighters Anonymous saying that they had a full gallery available. Sadly, I can't view any of them in a size larger than 1/4" x 1/4" and after scouring the web and realizing that as a "just the tipper" I can't really DO a search for "Eclipse trailer screencaps" without seeing pretty much every Eclipse-related image out there, I gave up. I'd ask our supposed resident Eclipse spoiler-whore Jenny Jerkface to do it for me but she's a lazy twat. Screw it - I know you people watched the trailer a gazillion times just like I did and can follow along, and if you didn't, then here's a perfectly cromulent excuse to go watch it again. I'll even repost it here - take 90 seconds to refresh your memory if you need to...

OK aaaand here we go!

I like the score so far... It has that same gripping sound that got me all excited each and every one of the countless times I watched the Twilight trailer... I didn't like the score for New Moon, so I am hopeful that this will be an improvement, and David Slade was certainly excited about it.

The makeup and hair? Uh... Looks like there will be some fail moments here... Fine, I bitched about the obvious demarcation lines and mauve lipstick in Twilight, but I would take Catherine Hardwick's smexy vision of Edward back in a heartbeat. In Eclipse, Edward's sporting mutton-chop sideburns, his hair is brassy and his eyebrows are too dark (see that one spot about halfway through that looks like "the tent scene" to me - where Edward is wearing what appears so be a white collared button-worn shirt - I guess he came from the office?), and he looks... not as hot as he could. Come ON! We KNOW how hot RPatts is!! It takes work to mess this up, people!!!

The wigs...Oh fuck, the wigs... In all honesty I didn't notice Kristen Stewart's wig the first time I watched it. But since then? Uh yeah, it's bad. Her hairline is all fucked up and she has three miles of forehead. Plus it looks like she needs a deep conditioner STAT or maybe they should have used some of the budget for a really nice hairpiece or weave instead of recycling Jacobs tatty rat's nest of a wig from New Moon. Someone needs to take that thing out back and give it the Old Yeller treatment.

I miss Twilight Edward, too. {{{sigh}}}

And Carlisle... Holy crap - WTF did they do to Carlisle??? I have seen Peter Facinelli in person and he is drop-dead gorgeous. He has that kind of sparkling sexiness that makes me think that movie stars are perhaps a different species than you and I. But in this trailer he looks...not so good. He looks poofy. His hair looks like a cemented-on bleach-blonde helmet. And when did he start speaking with an accent??? [Note from JJ: oh please, he looks fucking terrible. He has a ridiculous blond helmet and speak like some kind fucking fey Brit.]

"Someone's cree-ahhh-tiiing ahn ahhh-meeee..."
And where did they find a back-of-the-head shot of me with the perm I got in 9th grade?
Oh wait that's Jaaaahhhsphaaa...

Artist's rendering of Carlisle's helmet hair.

I found the vampire army pretty bothersome after a few watches, too... OK, here's the deal: newborns are supposed to be uber-powerful, fast, and filled with an insatiable and unquenchable lust for blood. So why do these newborns move more like zombies than vampires? It's like someone created a bunch of hipster-y drab-clothes-wearing zombies and is calling them vampires . Sweet jeebus, it's like Williamsburg early on a Sunday morning when everyone is still in a daze from their booze and coke-fueled Saturday night. The walk over everything in slow motion. They come up from the water in slow motion. Huh?!

Even the engagement ring is not consistent with what they have shown in the past - it doesn't even look like the "official" Stephenie-Meyer-approved version shown here (from Twilighted):

We have one of these... Our friend won it at the New Moon premiere! We're not saying it's particularly up our alley under normal circumstances, but JJ's kinda attached to it and hell - what's normal about our Twilight fixation? Regardless, it doesn't look like the ring they show in the trailer. [JJ's note: MINE, MINE, MINE, MINE!!!]

So what do you think??? Hit or a miss??? Now that you've watched it over and over and over again, what do you love and what makes you want to grab David Slade by the nuts and demand that he hire one of us as a consultant? Perhaps we should start the petition now to have a Twitard on-set for the filming of Breaking Dawn. You know, to ensure the get it right. And to make sure that Robert Pattinson's... "needs" are met. Hey - someone's gotta fetch his ciggies and hot pockets!

Despite all my carping, I'll be first in line to buy tickets when they go in sale! And if PFach and Kellan happen to join us again, all the better! In the meantime, enjoy this mash-up of both trailers that Latchkey Wife sent around earlier today to try to ease our collective case of The Mondays. That's right - I spend all this time bitching about it and I STILL want to watch it a few more times. Today. And tomorrow I'll watch it again and again and again...

64 more days - GAH!!!

Sunday, April 25, 2010

Twilight FanFiction - 15 Step - Chapter 11: I Feel it All

I know, I know, it's been FOREVER since I've posted a chapter of this lovely little tale and I truly apologize.

Just a few things before we get to the, ahem, "ins and outs" of Bella and Edward.

Disclaimer - The characters aren't mine. I just like to make them do dirty things. This story contains sex, drugs and rock n' roll--adults only.

Since it's been a while, I'll give you a few snippets from the where we left off last time. There was a show [lots of people won't get "show" - you might want to elaborate and mention that she got injured], and then there was an altercation with James, that Edward was none too happy about as the raced back to Forks from Port Angeles...

A stony silence permeated the Volvo as Edward sped toward Forks, the trees along the highway a dark blur outside the windows. I glanced over at him, still clutching the bloodied paper towels in my hands. His jaw was a hard line, pulsing slightly, his eyes were narrowed and tight. I knew this was not a good sign.

But the good Dr. Cullen fixed Bella right up and she and Edward had a little... er, bonding time with the crew...

"You're welcome, everyone," she said, winking at me as she dropped onto the couch next to Rosalie. "I think I deserve some props for running parental interference tonight."

Rosalie stared at her, one perfectly sculpted brow cocked. "Do you want a fucking cookie?" she asked, her voice sharp but teasing.

"Nope. But you can massage my feet." Alice moved swiftly and let one bare foot fall into Rosalie's lap. Rosalie's eyes widened in horror and she grimaced, staring at Alice's foot as if it were a rotting, dismembered appendage.

"Ew!" Rosalie shrieked, slapping at Alice's shin. "Get your filthy fucking feet off of me, you bitch!"

Alice only laughed as Rosalie tried to squirm away from her foot.

The couch dipped under Edward's weight as he sat down and he smiled at me.

"Rosalie hates feet," he explained. "She totally freaks out. It's really funny."

And at the end, Bella may have even realized a thing or two about her feelings regarding Edward...

Edward gave a sad chuckle. "I wish I could make you that happy," he mumured.

I stared at him in silence, processing his words. "You know what Edward?" I said slowly, surprise ringing with each word. "I think you do."

Without further ado...

Chapter 11 - I Feel it All

A rare sunlight filtered through the yellow lace curtains that hung limply over my bedroom window, it's warmth nudging me from my slumber. I groaned and stretched, trying to coax my muscles to awaken as I lazily kicked at the quilt that was wrapped around my legs. With a huge yawn, I scrubbed my face with my hands and hissed in pain as I made contact with my bruised skin. Memories of the day before flooded my sleep-logged brain and another disgruntled groan escaped me as I dragged myself from the comfort of my tiny bed and stared at my appearance in the mirror. 

The bruising wasn't nearly as bad as I expected but it was still prominent, a bluish-purple haze ghosting across the bridge of my nose, darkening into plum as it traveled down the right side and spread out underneath my eye, which was still puffy. My hair was tangled and gnarled from restless sleep and there was a stain on my wife-beater.

I looked like a crazy homeless person.

"Fuck you," I told my expression, sticking my tongue out. I knew from experience that any feeble attempt to cover it up would only make it more obvious so I rolled my eyes, grabbed my hoodie and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

Charlie was in the kitchen when I padded down the stairs, still slightly disheveled looking but clean and dressed in my favorite Minor Threat t-shirt, jeans and ratty old Converse, with my faded black hoodie thrown over the whole ensemble. They were my comfort clothes, the kind of outfit I would feel at home in no matter where I was or what I was doing. After last night, between my altercation with someone's boot and James, I wanted to feel comfortable. 

"Morning, Charlie," I said, sliding behind his bulky frame and keeping my face averted. He was pulling hamburger patties out of the refrigerator and staring at them suspiciously, like they might suddenly leap up and attack his face.

"Morning?" Charlie snorted, looking at his watch. "More like late afternoon - it's three o'clock! What time did you get in last night, Bella? I stayed up until about 11 o'clock but you never showed up."

"Umm," I hedged, because I really had no idea when I had gotten home. "I think I got home around midnight. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Charlie muttered, leaning forward to sniff the patties. "Just call me next time so I know you're alive."

"Sure thing," I agreed, reaching for a coffee cup. I turned to watch him study the meat. "Charlie, are you gonna stare at those all day or cook them?" 

Charlie chuckled and looked at me. Then he gasped. "Jesus Christ, Bella! What the hell happened to your face?!"

"Calm down, Charlie." I put my hands up and backed away as far as the tiny kitchen would allow me as Charlie continued to stare with a mixture of shock and concern. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Charlie thundered. "You have a black eye!" Suddenly, Charlie's expression changed from shock to dread. "Oh Lord. What did you do to her? Is she in the hospital? I take it they haven't reported you to the police yet. It's okay --"

"Hey!" I interrupted, my voice cracking, offended by his assumption. "What makes you think I beat someone up?"

He gave me a withered look. "You'd give Muhammad Ali a run for his money, Bells, what with all the fighting you seem to do. I can't imagine you letting someone take a pot shot and walking away."

I mulled over Charlie's point with a small amount of chagrin followed by a larger dose of pride. "It wasn't like that," I said, pouring myself a cup of coffee. "I was at a show and I got... hit. By something." 

"I don't understand." Charlie dropped the package of hamburger meat to the counter and crossed his arms over his barrel chest, obviously waiting for an explanation. So I told him about the show and the pit. 

"Can't you like clothes and shopping like other girls?" he groaned when I finished. "Why must you insist on playing rough with a bunch of young, angry, men? You're like a lamb running with a pack of wolves, Bella." 

And I am sorry/ I'm not a maiden fair/ I am not a kitten stuck up a tree somewhere...
I swallowed the urge to call him a chauvinist, figuring that was a fight for another day. "I can take care of myself," I retorted as I took a slug of coffee, wincing as the hot, acidic liquid burned my throat. It was a phrase I seemed to be repeating frequently these days. "Look, I do this stuff all the time and I almost never get hurt." 

Charlie sized me up and sighed, a small, wry smile playing on his lips. "Bella, you really are one of a kind."

Grinning, I answered, "You make that sound like a bad thing." 

"I just worry about you, Bells, that's all." 

I patted his arm awkwardly as I walked past him and grabbed the hamburger package. "Thanks, Charlie. Now, are you planning on cooking these or just staring at them?"

"I think they're expired." 

I leaned in and took a big whiff. A funky, sweet rotting smell assaulted my olfactory senses and I choked, hurriedly chucking them in the garbage. Charlie chuckled again.

"Most definitely expired," I told him, swallowing thickly. "I think there is some chicken in the fridge. Why don't we eat that instead?" 

"Damn." Charlie looked woefully at the garbage can. "I really was hoping for a burger. Hey, why don't we go to the diner?"

I threw him an incredulous look and pointed to my injured face. "Um, no offense, but I'm not going anywhere looking like this. It's going to be bad enough at school tomorrow. I don't need the whole town talking about me. Besides, I think Edward is going to come over in a little while."

Charlie regarded me with a guarded, curious expression. "You two seem to be hanging out an awful lot lately," he commented, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. "Speaking of Edward, where was he when you got... kicked... or punched in the smosh pit?"

"Mosh pit," I corrected as I sliced open the package of chicken. "And Edward was in the back of the room. He didn't want to go up front with me. I mean, this kind of stuff isn't exactly his thing." It wasn't a total lie, but I didn't want to voice that I didn't trust Edward to not throw more than a few punches himself. Charlie tolerated Edward's presence, barely. There was no sense in giving him any ammunition.

I grabbed a cutting board and started to wash the chicken.

"Hey, Charlie," I said, my back to him. "You want me to call you when I'm done cooking? I was thinking of trying out a new recipe."

"Sounds good," he said in a tone that implied it wasn't. Charlie was a steak and potatoes kind of guy and balked at my more interesting recipes. "I'll just be in the living room, watching TV." He started to walk away and then paused, "Is Edward coming to eat with us?"

"Um, I don't know. Probably?"

With an unhappy grunt, he about-faced and pulled a can of Rainier out of the refrigerator. He stopped again, looking uncomfortable. "Hey, Bella. You know you can talk to me about... anything, right?" 

I frowned but nodded as I yanked open a kitchen drawer and began to pull out various knives. "Uh huh."

"I know you're getting really, uh, close with Edward and you don't really seem to be very friendly with... the girls in town and with your mom... unavailable... so, if there is anything you... " Charlie stammered and stuttered over his words, painfully.

Oh my god, was Charlie really trying to give me the sex talk? Please kill me. "I get it, Charlie," I answered quickly, embarrassed. "It's okay, really. And thanks. I'll come to you if I need to." Talking to Charlie about my sex life seemed as pleasant as getting a root canal without Novocaine. I suppressed a shudder. 

To my relief, he finally shuffled out of the kitchen and I pulled my phone and iPod from the pocket of my hoodie. Quickly, I sent Edward a text:

Making chicken. If you want something really yummy that will knock your socks off, be here at five o'clock.

I shoved the phone into my pocket and was plugging into my iPod when I felt it vibrate through the cloth.

Only you could make dinner sound dirty. See you soon. 

Smiling to myself, I flipped on the iPod and spun the dial to something mellow. Then I pushed my sleeves up and got to work. 

There is something very comforting and satisfying about cooking. Like music, it's created of elements that aren't necessarily special or amazing on their own but, once combined, are positively magical. When I first moved in with Charlie, his provisions were subpar, consisting mainly of canned and frozen goods, so it was no surprise that he was agreeable to me taking over much of the cooking. Most of the time, I made meals that could be frozen and set aside; quick, simple dishes that wouldn’t offend Charlie's unrefined palette. Today, however, I wanted to show off. 

Singing softly to the music, I gathered all my ingredients and set them aside. Next, I pulled the Holland Chile out of the fridge and chopped it. Then I sliced up a few garlic cloves and ginger. Time began to slip away as I sliced, diced, whisked and mixed. The scent of Cinnamon and spice permeated the tiny kitchen; at one point, Charlie walked in to get a refill and looked alarmed when he saw me pouring coconut milk over the chicken. 

"It's bad enough you're making me suffer through a meal with you and Edward," he grumbled as he stalked out of the kitchen. "But now you're making something that involves milk and lemongrass. Lemongrass? I've never even heard of that."

"It's good!" I yelled after him, giggling. "You'll like it." 

The chicken was in the oven and I was up to my elbows in soap suds when I felt the atmosphere in the kitchen change. It was as if the air around me became electrified and warm. Though the change was slight, imperceptible, it was there nonetheless, and I knew I was no longer alone in the kitchen.

"Hi Edward," I said with a small smile, pulling an earbud out with a wet soapy hand. Edward reached around and handed me a dish towel before he swung beside me and leaned casually against the counter, his lean fingers curling absently around the ledge. A hint of a smirk played on his lips. 

"Charlie let me in even though it seemed like he didn't want to. He says you're cooking grass for dinner." He leaned down and kissed me deeply on the lips, then stepped back and studied my face. "And the bruise isn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be." 

"I'm cooking chicken and the recipe calls for lemongrass so he totally freaked out," I replied, rolling my eyes. "And yes, the bruise isn't all that terrible after all."

"It's still pretty obvious." 

I shrugged and started to set the table. Wordlessly, Edward pulled open the silverware drawer and began handing me forks and knives. "I know. Nothing I can do about it. It's going to be interesting tomorrow and I can't even begin to fathom what the kids are going to say. Whatever." 

"Bruise or not, you're still the most beautiful girl in the school," Edward answered, giving me a crooked smile that I couldn't help but return. I'm put together beautifully/ Big wet bottle in my fist/ big wet rose in my teeth/ I'm perfect piece of ass... My face heated and I knew I was blushing. Keeping my eyes on Edward's I took a step toward him and arched up on my tiptoes, my tongue darting out to wet my lips as Edward's fingertips grazed my hips --

"Well," a gruff voice asked from doorway. I dropped down and backed away hurriedly, flushing. "Is dinner ready?" I noticed that Charlie was eyeing Edward in a way that could only be construed as threatening. Poor Charlie - he had no idea how to handle me, much less my relationship with Edward. I bit back a smile.

"Yup." I gestured toward the set table and bowed with an exaggerated flourish. "Deener ees served." My accent was a complete failure but both Edward and Charlie laughed anyway.

Charlie stared at his meal with unveiled suspicion but Edward started in with gusto.

"This is really very good," he told me, impressed.

I popped a delicate bite into my mouth and chewed, savoring the heat of the chile mingling with the sweetness of the coconut.

 "It ain't bad," I agreed.

With a huff, Charlie took a bite, his eyes narrowed as he chewed, mustache dancing above his lips as always. Apparently my concoction passed muster because he took another bite.

An awkward, uneasy silence hovered over the table, punctuated by the clatter of silverware against Charlie's old plates. At first I struggled to find something to say to them but I gave up quickly, figuring if the silence bothered them so much they could talk amongst themselves. Personally, I found Charlie's sidelong glances at Edward, as well as Edward's pathetic attempt to ignore them, amusing. 

Finally, Charlie cleared his throat. "What are you two kids up to tonight?"

"Um, don't know." I stabbed another piece of chicken and hurriedly put it in my mouth. "Maybe watch a movie or something."

"Bella, don't chew with your mouth open," Charlie admonished. I scowled and smacked my lips loudly and purposely. Charlie slitted his eyes as I leaned slightly over the table and shoveled some rice into my mouth. Charlie growled in irritation as we locked eyes. Thankfully, the fact that my face was full of half-chewed food disguised the grin I knew I wouldn't be able to conceal otherwise and I was sure Charlie would hit the roof if I laughed at his annoyance. 

"Actually," Edward's tone oozed false innocence, breaking up the glaring contest Charlie and I were engaged in. "I believe we have a Biology test to study for."

Biology test? I was about to open my mouth to disagree when I felt a not-so subtle kick under the table.

"Oh yeah, that's right," I stated quickly, shoving another piece of chicken into my mouth before speaking, just to piss off Charlie. "We probably should study for, er, that test."

"I know that Emmett said he wanted to study with us, so I told him we would go back to my parent’s house and help him out." Edward smiled charmingly at me again and my insides quivered. Charlie watched out interaction with interest, his dark eyes darting back and forth, not entirely sure we were telling the truth.

I choked a little, trying to cover up my laughter. Emmett wasn’t even in our Biology class, which meant Edward was up to something. He's my Brandy Alexander/Always gets me into trouble/But that's another matter/Brandy Alexander... “Yeah, I know he was having trouble during the last lab. He definitely needs our help.”

Charlie cleared his throat. "Just make sure you're done with studying at a reasonable hour, Bells," he warned. "You have school tomorrow. " He stood abruptly and scraped off his plate into the garbage. "I'll take care of the dishes."

I caught Edward’s smug smirk out of the corner of my eye as I pushed back my chair and grinned at Charlie. “Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate it.”

I quickly thundered up to my room and grabbed my backpack as a prop and shoved my iPod into the front pocket. Edward watched me, his lips twisted in a smirk. As I passed him, he slapped me lightly on the ass and I mock glared at him.

“Knock it off,” I hissed.

“Your ass looks great in those jeans,” he answered. “Now get a move on. Let’s get out of here.”

There was a slight smattering of rain as I followed Edward out to his Volvo.

“Why don’t I follow you?” I suggested, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt over my hair. The weather was getting warmer but it was still pretty chilly and I shivered.

“I’ll bring you home,” Edward replied simply, pulling open the passenger door to his car. “Besides, I highly doubt that truck will get you ten feet, much less to my house.”

I threw him a withered glare as I climbed into the car. “Don’t hate on the truck,” I retorted, reaching over and pulling the door shut with a satisfying bang.

Edward scowled and walked around to the driver’s side, sliding in easily and started the car, which purred in a way my behemoth never would.

“So, Emmett needs help with Bio, eh?” I grinned at Edward’s profile as he maneuvered the car into the small, two way Main St. of Forks.


I feigned shock. “Well, if that’s the case then maybe I should just go back home and study on my own. After all, we’re only going to your house to study with Emmett, right?”

“No,” Edward answered, a slight growl to his words. “We’re going to back to my house so I can get you naked without having to worry about Chief Swan coming up the stairs and blowing my nuts off with his service revolver.”

My mouth worked soundlessly for a moment as I tried to come up with some witty reply before a very un-Bella like giggle bubbled from my lips. Edward glanced at me, eyebrow cocked in amusement. The expression vanished quickly, replaced with a sudden look of sheer determination.

“Do you have your iPod?” Edward demanded.

“Of course,” I replied, automatically fishing out of my knapsack that rested at my feet.

“Put in something you find sexy.”

“Sexy?” I plugged the iPod into the car and started scrolling. “Not sure what you mean.”

I swear I could hear Edward roll his eyes before he answered. “Put on a song that turns you on.”

This was uncharted territory for me. I hesitated, my eyes scanning the list of artists and songs, knowing full well that if I did as he asked I would be sharing something with him I wasn’t entirely ready to share.

“What’s the problem?” Edward sensed my hesitation.

“Uh, nothing.” I bit my lip and finally selected a song. A heavy, slow beat filled the Volvo, followed by an almost lazy crescendo of guitars. The singer’s voice was deep and heavy, raw, almost guttural. Casually, I glanced over at Edward, trying to read his expression in the darkness of a car. His profile came into sharp relief as we passed under a street light, his jaw a sharp outline against the yellowed light, his head cocked slightly to one side, listening intently but said nothing.

Anxiety started to creep in as the song played on and Edward remained silent. Finally, I reached over to switch it off but Edward’s hand snaked out, grabbing my wrist tightly.

“I’m listening,” he told me sternly.

I shrugged and flopped back into the seat, biting absently at a hangnail and feeling very much like I had just laid my soul out bare for Edward to see.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity the song came to an end and I again reached eagerly for the iPod when Edward’s voice broke through.

“Play it again,” he ordered. I stared at him incredulously and ran my hand through my hair, which was tangled and knotted from the rain and my hood.

“Um... okay?” I hit repeat and leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can I ask why?”


“You’re weird,” I told him in a soft voice, shifting in my seat to stare out the window at the darkened blurs that were wheeling by.

“No, I’m not. I’m just trying to figure you out.”

Before I could ask him what the hell he meant by that we pulled up to the Cullen house. It stood simply, all angles and planes and as tall as always, with only a smattering of lights in some of the windows. I craned my neck, looking for Alice or Rosalie’s car. I only saw Rose’s, a bright red beacon in the night.

“Rose is here,” I remarked casually as Edward cut the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt.

He snorted. “She practically lives here. Doesn’t exactly get along with her folks.”

My mouth dropped open in shock, not because of the gossip, but because Edward was the one doing it. Until then, I don’t think I had ever heard him say much about anyone.

I remained silent as I got out of the car and followed Edward inside, mulling over the tidbit of information he’d given me. I only knew that Jasper and Rosalie were brother and sister; it never occurred to me think about them much further than that.

“I can’t imagine anyone getting along with Rose,” I muttered, more to myself. Edward’s back stiffened and raised up to his full height before looking back to spear me with a dark stare.

“Rosalie has her moments, but the shit that goes on there...never mind. Just don’t talk shit if you don’t know all the facts.”

I stopped in my tracks, bristling. Edward kept walking and after a few paces, stopped. He turned around, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, hunching his shoulders as a cool wind blew.

“You coming?” he asked, a little sullenly. I looked down at my scuffed Converse and debated. It was no use starting a fight. I had no car, and I really didn’t want Rosalie to ruin my evening.

“Your mood swings give me whiplash,” I grumbled as I stomped by him, unwilling to let it go. Edward chuckled blackly and unlocked the door.

“Upstairs,” Edward whispered in my ear, placing his hand on the small of my back and propelling me to the stairs. I could hear Emmett’s booming voice in the family room, punctuated by the frenetic jingle of a video game. I could barely react before Edward shifted, grabbing my wrist and pulling me up the elegant staircase.

We passed Dr. Cullen’s office and I had a hard time believing that it was only yesterday that I sat there, letting him attend to my nose. I almost said something but Edward turned the corner sharply, stopping only to pull open a heavy wooden door that led to yet another set of stairs.

“What? Are you like fucking Quasimodo in the bell tower or something?” I joked as I ascended the stairs. Edward’s familiar smell wrapped its tendrils around me, growing headier with each step. A lone light was on in the corner and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim light and focus on the expansive room before me.

Edward's bedroom. My head swiveled, taking in my surroundings.

The ceiling slanted down on either side like a barn, and short bookcases lined one side of the room. In the middle, however, the ceiling vaulted high above and ran the length of what I assumed was the entire house. A queen sized bed was nestled in one corner, the headboard meeting the down slant of the wall, creating a small nook in a room that was anything but small. Near the bookcase was an overstuffed armchair, the kind that looked like it was dragged from a Salvation Army but probably actually cost a few hundred dollars, if not more. If I knew how, I would have been able to do a cartwheel in the middle of the room and not hit a single thing. Edward walked briskly over to a desk that was nestled near a window and flipped on another light.

It became immediately apparent that Edward was a clean freak. Back at Charlie’s, I knew my bed was still unmade and that there were usually clothes draped over the furniture or bunched up on the floor. I could recall with great clarity the position of my Doc Martens: one upended and halfway into my closet, the other laying on its side a half foot away, carelessly forgotten.

I couldn't help but feel a small amount of embarrassment as I gazed around Edward’s room for the first time. The books obediently lined up in their bookshelves, arranged by what appeared to be author or genre. Edward temporarily forgotten, I wandered over to another shelf that contained a great deal of CDs that were arranged in alphabetical order. I was actually surprised by how many CD's he owned - it was rare that he ever discussed music he enjoyed. I crept forward and squinted in the semi-darkness to read the titles. Most of them were instrumental or classical, one of the few genres I had any knowledge of. I tucked away that realization to mull over another day.

Edward watched me, a curious expression on his face, as I absorbed my surroundings.

“Have you seen anyone about this problem?” I asked casually.

His brow furrowed. “What problem?”

I let my finger trail along the edge of his desk, sleek and modern and metal, then made an exaggerated show of studying my finger. “Your OCD problem.”

Edward snorted derisively. “Not everyone is a slob like you, Bella,” he told me, crossing the room quickly in a few long strides and grabbing me around the waist and pulling me towards him. “I like to take care of my possessions. They’re important to me.”

“Ah, I see.” I tried not to read into what he was saying but couldn’t quite shake the feeling that I was somehow included in his “possessions’.

“Speaking of material things, I’d like to get you out of a few of yours.” Edward smirked, tugging at my hoodie. I cocked an eyebrow at him and pulled it off, throwing it carelessly on the floor.

“How about the shirt?”

“Next you’ll be telling me to take my bra off,” I joked.

“You’re a mind reader.” Edward stepped even closer and lifted the hem of my shirt. I raised my arms obediently and let him slide the garment off, my hair tangling in the fabric before falling heavily across my bare back. The room was warm but I shivered anyway, especially when Edward’s eyes raked across my half naked body approvingly. They widened as I reached behind and unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Edward took a step forward, forcing me to take a step back as he once again ensnared in his arms. Then he took another, this time pushing us a little to right, and I felt as if I was dancing, a sort of semi-shuffling movement across his room, him moving gracefully as I awkwardly followed him.

“I don’t dance,” I murmured, peering up at him. A lock of hair had freed itself from behind my ear and obscured the vision in my right eye. I huffed a breath in its direction and saw the fluttering of chestnut locks before they settled exactly where they were in the first place. Edward chuckled and brushed the offending hair away from my face.

“I can make you,” his voice was quiet and a little menacing, because it was quite clear that he certain. His eyes smoldered, part lust, part challenge. And it's that color that never fails
To turn me blue/ So I just swallow it and hold on to it/ And use it to scare the hell out of you...

“You don’t scare me.” I nudged him with my hip, trying to push him off balance a little. Edward’s lip pulled into a crooked smile that was far more feral than friendly.

“You shouldn’t have said that.” Suddenly, I felt his arms tighten around me and I was airborne as Edward launched us across the room, tumbling down onto his bed. He was on top of me before I could catch my breath, a shriek of shock dying in my throat as I drank in Edward’s dark, lustful expression.

His eyes remained locked with mine as he tugged at my wrists, pulling my arms over my head and pinning my wrists together, locked tight in his iron grip. He straddled my body and stroked my cheek with his free hand. I tried to tug my wrists free but he only squeezed harder in response.

“Don’t struggle,” he whispered as he leaned over, his breath sending shivers down my spine as his lips brushed across my earlobe. “I won’t hurt you.”

He trailed kisses down my jaw and neck, slowly at first. His teeth grazed my flesh and he nipped my neck. I squirmed and gave a small yelp as the sharp pain intermingled with the electric pleasure and tried to tug my arms free again.

“Don’t struggle,” Edward repeated, his voice low and gravelly. “Let me be in control of you. Please.”

My body would have agreed with anything Edward asked of it but my mind was a different story. My brain fumbled through the haze of lust as I mulled over his request as quickly as I could. The idea of voluntarily relinquishing my share of power was frightening. And quite erotic.

I nodded my head, afraid that if I opened my mouth nothing would come out. Edward grinned, narrowing his eyes at me.

“Don’t move,” he demanded, releasing my wrists. “I’m serious. Not an inch.” He hopped off the bed and disappeared into a closet. I turned my head, confused and curious, even though I kept my arms stretched over my head as he asked. I started to feel a little foolish, just laying there on his bed, topless.

I didn’t have a chance to think about it for more than a second or two before Edward was back, a neatly tied bundle of cord in his hands and a predatory look on his face.

My heartbeat quickened as I watched him unfurl the rope and I wondered exactly what I'd agreed to.

“I bought these for a rock climbing trip I never went on, but I think this will be so much more interesting. I want to tie your hands,” he told me. He held out the rope and leaned over me, his eyes searching my face for permission. I swallowed hard and nodded minutely, flinching a little in nervous anticipation as I felt Edward wind the rope around my wrists. He kept it loose enough that I could move my hands but it was clear, after a few exploratory tugs, there was no way I was getting free unless Edward untied me.

My mind was a whir when I felt the rope grow taut as Edward secured it to the bed. He leaned back to admire his handiwork, his lips pursed in a tight but triumphant line, his eyes glittering dangerously in the dim light of the room.

“You okay?” he asked. I nodded again, sucking in a breath as he slowly straddled my body, scooting down so his torso was flush against mine. “I won’t hurt you.

“In fact,” he whispered against my collarbone. “I plan on making you feel very, very good.”

His fingertips felt rough against the skin of my breast. Every single nerve in my body was standing at attention, begging for Edward’s blissful ministrations. His lips closed over my right nipple even as his other hand was kneading my left, his finger finding the hardened knot of my nipple and pinching slightly.

I groaned, my eyes rolling as a tremor coursed through my body. I tried to shift my legs as pressure began to build down there but I was trapped by Edward’s body. His tongue swirled around my nipple relentlessly, the sensation growing into a crescendo I could barely take and I jerked against my bonds. Edward lifted his eyes to meet mine then, both a warning and a question warring in his expression.

“Feels too good,” I gasped my explanation as I wriggled helplessly beneath him, almost pleading. “I can’t take it.”

Edward grinned, his fingertips massaging my left breast and I moaned again. “I haven’t even gotten started yet, Bella.”

His mouth trailed away from my breasts, his hands sliding down to my hips, gripping me tightly and he kissed my belly, going lower until he was stopped by my jeans.

“Let’s get rid of these, shall we?” he murmured. Edward sat up and my body mourned the loss of his. Quickly, he shifted off of me and pulled off one sneaker, then the other. Next he tugged off my socks, then chuckled.

“Black nail polish?” he asked as he ran his finger across the arch of my foot, tickling me. I whimpered and tried to yank my foot from his grasp, unable to stop him since my arms were still tied.

“Ticklish, eh?” Edward arched a brow at me, a mischievous smile spreading across his handsome features. He gripped my ankle tighter.

“Please!” I almost yelped as he tickled me again. “Stop, please.”

Edward pretended to think about it, then stroked my foot once again. “Beg.”

“Fuck you.” My half-laugh, half-snarl melted into a keening wail as Edward began to tickle my foot in earnest and I quickly caved to his demands. “Please, Edward, please stop tickling m! I’m begging you!”

Edward relinquished with a grin as I thrashed on his bed, still giggling helplessly. He crawled up and kissed me deeply.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, where was I? Oh, yeah. Relieving you of your pants.”

With deft fingers, Edward unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off, tossing them on the floor where the rest of my clothes lay abandoned. Before I could say anything, he yanked off my panties and added them to the pile.

“Fucking beautiful,” he breathed, his hands running the length of my thighs. “Jesus, Bella, you are so goddamn sexy.”

I was still panting from Edward’s assault on my foot and I was sure my hair was a tangled mess. I could feel strands of it feathering against my bound arms. I had never before considered myself sexy but at that moment, I felt like the most beautiful girl on earth.

Edward licked his lips and pushed my legs apart, his fingers pushing gently into the flesh of my thighs as he settled himself between them. My heart began to thump as he leaned down and let his lips linger on my thigh. Slowly, he kissed upwards and I whimpered with each movement that brought him closer to my clit. His lips against my flesh was pure bliss that buzzed through my body, each muscle humming and pleading. I closed my eyes, breath coming in shallow gasps as I felt the heat of his breath against me.

His thumb brushed against my clit and I jumped, a soft mew escaping my lips. He rolled it between his thumb and his forefinger before sliding a finger inside me. In and out, he twisted his hand until I was writhing beneath him. I felt the pressure inside me when he pushed another finger in and growled, lifting my hips as he fucked me with his hand.

“Oh shit,” I growled, arching my back and straining against my bonds.

“Does that feel good?” his breath was burning against my clitoris and my eyes flew open. I peered down the length of my body to find Edward looking up at me with dark hooded eyes. I nodded desperately.

“Do you want me to kiss it?” He kept his eyes trained on mine, his mouth a half inch away from my clitoris, his fingers still buried inside me. “Tell me.”


“Yes what?” There was an absence of his hands inside me for a brief moment before I felt his fingers again, this time three, insistently pushing inside of me, filling me. His lips barely ghosted across my sex and I wanted to scream. If my hands had been free I would have grabbed him by the hair. Instead, all I could do was lift my hips in offering and do everything he told me to.

“Yes, I want you to kiss me!” I cried. “Jesus, Edward, you’re fucking killing me. Please, do it!”

His tongue flicked out, a whip against my clitoris, pleasure ripping through the core of my body.

“Like that?” he asked, feigning ignorance. He knew exactly what he was doing; I no longer had control over my body--it belonged to him.

“Yes, like that!” I gasped, the words bitten off as his tongue lapped my pussy again, slow lazy circles that had my entire body shaking in need. I was completely wanton, helpless. I spread my legs even further as Edward continued to fuck me with his fingers, his tongue languid against my clitoris.

I felt the first tremor of orgasm when his lips closed around my button, his teeth grazing the already swollen and sensitive flesh. A loud moan ripped from my throat and every muscle tensed, every thought drowned out by the rushing momentum of my orgasm. Edward lapped my clit, still rhythmically fucking me and then I was gone, lost in wave after wave, my mouth open in a silent howl as I came over and over.

Dimly, I was aware of Edward’s fingers leaving me as I panted, still overcome by my orgasm. I felt the bed shift, and suddenly Edward was looming over me. His shirt was gone, revealing his beautiful hard chest. He leaned over me, hands scrabbling to undo the cord that kept me bound to his bed. I realized he was completely naked, his erection thick and long as it nudged my stomach but I couldn’t remember him taking off his clothes. And I didn’t care.

The next thing I knew, I was free and flexed my hands before wrapping my arms around Edward. He gave a growl when I pulled him close.

“That felt so good,” I whispered in his ear, my hands fisting in his hair. I peppered his face with frenzied kisses, luxuriating in the weight of his body against mine, warm and masculine.

“I have something that will feel even better,” he murmured, shifting a little so I could feel his cock rest against my thigh. “You’re so wet, Bella, I want to be inside you.”

I didn’t say anything; instead I reached down for his cock and lifted my hips, pushing him into my entrance.

He hovered, halfway inside me, as if he was savoring the moment. Then, with a rough, low growl into my neck, he thrust himself inside of me so swiftly it took my breath away.

“Fuck!” he ground out, lifting himself slightly to kiss me. I could taste myself on his lips and I wrapped my legs around his waist, letting him drive himself deeper into me. Another feral sound was wrenched from his lips and his hands slid under my ass, lifting me, angling me so he could go even deeper.

Incoherent words slipped from my tongue as Edward filled me. Each thrust pushed me closer to coming undone. Then, he stopped. I wrenched my eyes open, a whine slipping between my lips.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Edward ordered in a voice thick with desire. I scrambled to obey. Moving quickly, I let my head rest on my forearms, my face turned sideways and I settled onto my knees, my ass in the air like some kind of offering.

“Jesus, Bella, I could come just looking at you like this.” I felt Edward’s hands on my hips and he pushed my legs further apart, pausing briefly before he buried his cock inside me once again.

I didn’t even know I could make noises like the ones that were tumbling from my mouth. I moved with him, arching my back and pushing my ass even harder against him.

“I want to do it rough and hard,” Edward hissed into my ear. “If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop.”

I let out a particularly wanton grunt and buried my head into the pillow.

Edward pounded relentlessly into me and I muffled my moans and cries of pleasure with the pillow, my legs straining against his forceful rhythm as his hands gripped and kneaded my ass. I had never felt so stretched, so full and so aroused. My wetness dampened my thighs and I gripped the sheets in tight fisted fingers, unable to quell the shaking that was coursing through my body.

Edward was growling with each thrust, sucking heavy breaths between his teeth and he fucked me. It was animalistic and base and each grunt that came from him only turned me on further. I could barely catch my breath as the now familiar pull of orgasm uncoiled itself inside my belly.

“Edward,” I whimpered. “I’m going to come.” I don’t know why I wanted to tell him that but I did. It seemed important.

Edward groaned. “Fuck, I’m going to too.”

The orgasm ripped through me and I would have collapsed if Edward wasn’t holding on to me for dear life, riding out his own orgasm. Wave after wave of electric pleasure coursed through, making my toes curl and forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut as I gasped, trying to catch my breath. It was glorious.

I breathlessly muttered something incoherent when I felt the heavy weight of Edward’s body on mine. He quickly flipped me to my side and wrapped his arms around me, his chest slick with sweat against my back.

Neither of us spoke and the quick beating of our hearts eventually slowed, our heavy breaths evening out slowly. I wiggled my rear end against his crotch and felt him kiss my hair. My legs were still shaking and my arms felt weak.

I once heard the term “thoroughly fucked” and often wondered what that would feel like. Now I knew.

“Edward?” I whispered, the words rumbling from my throat. I was parched.

“Yes, Bella?”

“I think you killed me.”

Edward’s chuckled reverberated in his chest and I smiled.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

I turned to look at him, grinning contentedly. “It’s a very, very good thing.”

Edward smiled back, looking a little stoned, his eyes half-lidded with only a hint of emerald peeking out. His hair was even messier than usual and I reached out to push a lock of it from his face.

“You’re beautiful,” I told him.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you,” he replied.

I smiled and shrugged, unsure of what to say.



“Thank you for letting me tie you up.”

I blushed. “You don’t have to thank me. Did you like it?”

Edward nodded and traced my cheek with a fingertip. “Very much. It reminded me of the song you played in the car. That’s why I wanted to do it.”

That surprised me. I tried to think about the song I had played for him and why I thought it was erotic. It never occurred to me that Edward would understand.

“Sometimes, I think you know me better than I do,” I told him solemnly.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Edward kissed me and pulled me closer and moved until he was on his back and I was partially draped across him, my head resting against his chest. “Sometimes I don’t think I know you at all.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned. Suddenly, this was not going in the best post-coital-conversation direction.

“I don’t know how you feel. The only way I can figure it out is to pay attention to what you’re listening to. It’s like some secret code of yours.”

My eyes widened. I never thought of it that way but then again, I never had anyone really pay much attention to me.

“Is that why you’re always asking me to play you songs?” I wasn’t sure if I was flattered or hurt.

“Not all the time,” Edward admitted. “But sometimes. When you’re moody or if it seems like something’s bothering you, I’ll ask you to play me songs because I know you won’t want to talk about it. Or you’ll just get mad.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to say because I was getting mad that the conversation had taken such a serious turn. I wanted to cuddle and enjoy my time being naked with Edward. Instead, I felt like I was spooning with a shrink.

“Well, you’re not exactly Mr. Talkative,” I said in a lame attempt to shift the attention off myself.

“You’re right.” Sadness crept into his tone. “I guess we all have secrets that we don’t share.”

“Everyone does.” My words came out defensive. “Besides, if we knew everything about each other than it would get boring really fast.”

Edward chuckled. “Is that so?” I felt his fingers weaving through my hair and I lifted my head to look at him.

“That’s so,” I confirmed, kissing him. “Enough of this talk, okay?”

Edward looked at me peculiarly. “Sure, Bella. We’ll save it for a later day.”

Like never. I smiled at him. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

We fell into a comfortable silence and I closed my eyes, smiling slightly as Edward stroked my hair.


“Mmm?” I nuzzled into Edward’s chest.

“You mean so much to me.” Edward’s tone was uncharacteristically shy and his fingers ghosted across my face again.

“You too,” I murmured.

“Don’t break my heart,” he whispered. I forced my eyes open and moved to look at him. I wanted to kiss away the trepidation that lingered in his expression and tell him I never would hurt him, that I would always stay. But I couldn’t make him a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep, so I answered him honestly, surprised by the sadness in my voice.

“I’ll try my best,” I whispered, gently kissing his lips.

Edward sighed and gave me a small crooked smile.

“I wish I could stay and fall asleep next to you,” I echoed Edward’s sigh longingly. “But I’m pretty sure Charlie would kill me. And probably you.”

Edward chuckled slightly. “I’m sure you’re right. I probably should get you home.”

“Mmm,” I agreed reluctantly. I stretched against him then pulled myself up to sitting. He watched me as I stood on wobbly legs to fetch my clothes before getting up himself. We dressed quietly, and Edward handed me my sweatshirt, which I tugged over my head. He reached over and pulled my hair free, letting it spill over the hood and my shoulders.

“You’re amazing,” he told me in a serious tone. “I’ve never known anyone quite like you.”

I smiled shyly at him. “I could say the same about you, Edward.”

The car ride back to Charlie’s was mellow. Edward plugged in my iPod and we listened to the music in companionable silence for the most part, breaking the quiet with the teasing quips and jokes that now came so easily to both of us.

“You ready to face the masses at school tomorrow?” Edward asked casually as he pulled up to Charlie’s house. “You know they’re going to talk a ton of shit about your shiner.”

I had almost forgotten about my black eye and touched it in remembrance.

“I’m used to people talking shit,” I laughed curtly. “Besides, I have you on my side. I’m thinking that’s all I need to deal with them.”

Edward grinned. “I’ll always be on your side.”

I kissed him with a fierceness that seemed to shock him before I opened the door.

“Hey, Edward?” I leaned down and looked into the car and he looked over, a bemused expression playing on his handsome face. I noticed that his eyes looked strained, tired. “Thank you.”

I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for but he nodded as if he knew. “I'll always be here for you, Bella.”

I nodded and blew him a kiss, unsure of what else to do. I saw a sad smile on his face before I shut the car door and turned to head inside. I unlocked the door as quietly as could and kicked my Chucks off next to Charlie’s police-issue shoes. A sports announcer’s nasal voice blared from the television as I padded into the kitchen.

“Hey, Bella,” Charlie’s voice called from the living room. “How’d the studying go?”

I hid a smile and I pulled a can of soda from the fridge. “Great. I’m pretty sure I’ll ace the test.”


“Well, Charlie, I probably should hit the sack. Good night!” I saluted him as I passed by the living room and Charlie chuckled.

I grabbed a towel from the linen closet and headed for the bathroom. My thoughts were of Edward as I stripped out of my clothes and I licked my lips, still tasting him on flesh. As I climbed into the shower, I imagined him with me, warm and wet under the spray of water.

It was strange but I missed him already. I bent down and wrapped a towel around my hair, wiping the condensation from the mirror to stare at my distorted expression. I looked into my own wide brown eyes, a little too big and a little too suspicious and repeated in my head that thought - I missed him. I never missed anyone. It was perplexing and scary. I tried not to think of Edward but he kept slipping into my thoughts, mingled with other ideas that were just as disconcerting as the fact that I did miss him. I wanna hurry home to you/ put on a slow, dumb show for you/ and crack you up/ so you can put a blue-ribbon on my brain/ god i’m very, very frightening/ I’ll overdo it...

I wanted him near me and my little bed felt cold and empty as slid beneath the quilt and tucked it around my chin and thought about what Edward had said, how he would always be on my side.

I hoped it was true.


Title - Feist - I Feel it All
Lyrics -
Ani DiFranco - Pretty Girl
The National - All the Wine
Feist - Brandy Alexander
White Stripes - 300 MPH Torrential Outpour Blues
The National - Slow Show

I do have to point out one thing -- I intentionally DID NOT put a song into the scene where Edward asks Bella to play him a song that turns her on. I figured you all would fill in your own blanks on that one. And frankly, I'm sort of interested to see what kind of music YOU find erotic/sexy/arousing what-have-you.

Thanks again for all your patience!!

Hope you liked and please leave a review, regardless of whether you loved or hated it.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Eclipse Trailer LOLZ! [Spoilerific]

By now, everyone who has not taken the Twi-Oath of Virginity has probably already seen the Eclipse trailer that came out Friday. If you're anything like us (and most of our readers are, according to the comments here), you've probably seen that goodness more than once--like fifteen or twenty times more than once. But who's counting? Hey, we're nothing if not rabidly loyal. And obsessive. It's a fine line between the two, isn't it?

No sooner than the trailer had come out than people starting poking fun of it. Which we totally plan on doing, too, but in the meantime, enjoy this! We came across Jezebel's "Eclipse Trailer LOLZ-Style" at Twilog (Hi Whitley!) and wanted to share - go check out the rest at her site!

Go see the rest (it gets even funnier) over at Twilog!

TOTALLY better be true!

Friday, April 23, 2010

Thanks, Eclipse Trailer - I Needed That! [Spoiler, natch.]

So just when I have been bummed in general and forlorn over the recent absence of Robert Pattinson and over-worked and questioning my commitment to Sparkle[peen] Motion, I saw that Peter Facinelli tweeted this and then Latchkey Wife sent me a link and SQUEEE! It's the Eclipse Trailer!!! Knew it was coming today and BAM! here here it is in two-plus minutes of blazing vampy glory! I cannot WAIT top see this whole movie - I hope it is AMAZING!!! [Note: It had BETTER be amazing!!!]

Oprah looks like she couldn't care one way or another and Dakota sounds like they just dragged her off her deathbed or she was just hangin' out chain-smoking with KStew, but so what! It's the full trailer!!! Did I say SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE?!? SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

P.S. Yes I know that my use of exclamation points was WAY excesive today but fuck it - SQUEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

P.P.S. For those who may question my Twi-ginity, I had always intended to watch the trailer, remember? I don't want to ruin it but I am only so strong... : )

Update - here's an Oprah-free version - thanks Twifans!

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Hey Rob Pattinson, Where ARE You?

I don't know about you but lately I find myself desperately surfing the web looking for something, anything RPattz-related because, frankly, there ain't shit out there these days.

I know I've felt this way before... oh shit, I know what this is!

We're in a Robert Pattinson dry spell. Oh! The humanity!!! Rob, where ARE you?

Come out, come out wherever you are! (Said in the creepy Robert DeNiro voice from Cape Fear, of course.) Oh, come on, I'm not that stoopid... I know he's over there, across the pond, acting his little heart out in a movie I'm hoping will melt the panties right off me. But damn, isn't it about time for a... oh, I don't know... a vagina-exploding photo shoot or something? I'm wearing out my tattered copies of Vanity Fair and Details for chrissakes!!

I'll admit it, I'm starting to show symptoms of Rob-withdrawal and it's taking it's toll! It was barely noticeable first, but now... well, I'm starting to think it's a lot like when a druggie can't find a fix... so I had to find out if the signs are the same.
Agitation - Check! Get me some fucking pictures... NOW... or someone's getting a tit punch!
Anxiety - Oh gawd, is he with KStew, is he by himself, is he rubbing one out as I type this... I need to know, I need to know...
Muscle aches - From too much, ahem, action with my old, ratty RPattz magazine porn? Wow, my right arm is really sore.
Increased tearing - What? No, not that one. Well... maybe just a little. Mostly from missing RPattz *sniffle sniffle*!
Insomnia - Just a tiny bit... from reading too much FanFiction.
Runny nose - See "increased tearing" Also, from reading funny-ass Twilight blogs that make me hork shit out my nose...
Sweating - Only when I see hot pictures of the preh-tay! [JJ's note - or when I think he might know about this blog]
Yawning - See "insomnia" or am I just exhausted from my dreamy trysts with a certain lanky Brit?
I'm sure I'm not the only one around here that is longing for some glorious new pics and an assload of skivvy soaking outtakes to get us through the next couple of months until Eclipse comes out! Fuck, I'll even take more set photos from Bel Ami... I'm digging that period clothing and even the longish hair makes me drool on myself. Here's a sampling of my collection of Rob porn... man was it hard to pick my favs. Must. Be. Alone. Now!

This may have been when I first fell in love with the beanie.

"Hey, Latchkey Wife... how you liking these pants? And yes, I'm happy to see you!"

Only one other place I'd like to see that leather jacket... on the floor next to my bed!

Not sure what you're doing with the jacket... but the jeans... the boots... oh, oh, OH gawd!

Possibly my favorite frame of Remember Me. The smirk + white tee = horny Twitards.

"I'm looking for a foursome. Know where I can find slutty and willing ladies that go by the initials JJ, STY and LKW?"

"Silly Latchkey Wife... you know you'll always get first dibs on my sparkly parts!"

Oh OK Rob... go ahead, I guess I'll let you spank me. If you must.

No one has ever made a cigarette look that goooood. Ever! Or a white button down, or jeans for that matter.

Jesus Fucking Christ, this man should come with a warning!

Anyone else picture this when they were reading The Office? Beautiful Bastard at his most beautifulest!

Aaahhhhhhhhh.... *dies*

So what's your "go to" photo of Rob when real life is giving you an ass fucking you didn't ask for, and you just need a little pretty to get you through the day?