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#Mike Newton fails
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🌟🎬 Welcome back to “Keeping Up with the Cullens”! Or more accurately, “Keeping Up with Bella’s Most Awkward Movie Date Ever.” 🎥🙄 Today, we’re diving into the cringiest third-wheel adventure known to humankind—featuring Bella, Jake, and Mike. It’s an uncomfortable love triangle, complete with awkward hand placements, a puking incident, and, of course, the infamous flu. 😂💀
So here’s the setup: Bella, bless her heart, is just trying to enjoy a “friendly” movie night, but we all know what’s *really* going on. Jake is full-on (and painfully) trying to win her heart, while poor Mike doesn’t stand a chance but gives it his best shot anyway. 💔 Mike’s all in, despite the fact that he’s basically the third wheel, and Bella is doing everything in her power to *firmly* place Jake in the friend zone. 🛑 But Jake? He’s having none of it. 😂
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The rest of the group, of course, bails on the movie, leaving Bella smack in the middle of Jake and Mike. Naturally, both of them have their hands on the armrests, palms open, practically begging for her to hold them. 🖐️🖐️ It’s like an unspoken competition for Bella’s affection, and she’s just trying to focus on the screen, pretending not to notice the passive-aggressive hand positioning happening on either side of her. 🙄🍿
Then, the real chaos begins. Mike, clearly not built for horror movies—or maybe just the love triangle tension—gets *really* sick. 🤢 Bella’s already trying to manage the awkwardness of the situation, and now she’s got a barfing Mike to deal with. They have to leave the theater *mid-movie* because Mike is about to explode! 💀
As Mike is hunched over the theater restroom toilet, Jake, sensing his big moment, decides it’s the perfect time to have a heart-to-heart with Bella. 💬 He basically tells her that he’s not giving up, and that he’ll keep trying to win her heart. And Bella’s thinking, “Really, Jake? Now? This is what we’re doing while Mike’s puking his guts out?” Talk about timing! 😂💀
Thankfully, Jake is quick on his feet and, smart guy that he is, grabs a popcorn bucket for the ride home to spare his freshly fixed rabbit from Mike’s barf. 🍿🤢 And it's a good thing, too, because Mike was definitely not done. 🛠️✨ Crisis averted—sort of. After dropping off Mike, Jake starts feeling sick too, and they assume it’s that flu that’s been making the rounds. 🤧 Bella’s thinking, “Great, now it’s my turn to feel like death,” and she’s not wrong because, that night, she catches the infamous flu as well. 🤒💤
Now here’s the part that really gets me—where the heck is Edward? 😤 This is prime boyfriend material. Your girl is passed out, feverish, and in desperate need of some TLC, and you’re just missing in action? 👀 I’m actually *pissed* about this. Edward, my guy, this is your moment! Wouldn’t Alice *see* Bella’s suffering and give you a heads-up? And you just... let her deal with the flu all alone? Not cool. Meanwhile, Ben is over here being the best boyfriend, taking care of Angela while *she’s* sick. Take notes, Edward. 😠
And don’t even get me started on Charlie. Bella said he probably went to work just to have a “free bathroom.” 🚽 Really, Charlie? Your daughter’s passed out on the bathroom floor with a fever, and all you do is leave her a glass of water before you head off to work? Sure, you put her to bed that night, but come on! If she had passed out from her fever, you’d be a strong contender for Worst Dad of the Year. 😒
A couple of days later, Bella starts feeling better and naturally, she starts calling Jake’s house to see how he’s doing. She’s been trying to get in touch with him, but he’s completely MIA. 📞 When she finally gets a hold of him, Jake drops a bombshell: “I don’t think I have the flu…” He’s all confused, not knowing exactly what’s happening to him yet. Meanwhile, Bella’s still thinking it’s just the flu, while we, the audience, are sitting here like, “Oh sweetie, if only you knew…” 😬🐺
But here’s the kicker: Edward would *totally* have lost his mind if he knew about this awkward movie date. You *know* how jealous Edward gets over Mike of all people. The fact that Bella was caught in a third-wheel situation with Mike? Edward would’ve been mentally planning how to “accidentally” leave Mike in the woods for the wolves. 😤 It still kills me how much Edward was jealous of Mike at this point. Poor Mike doesn’t stand a chance, and yet, here’s Edward, low-key (or high-key) wanting to murder him. 😂
In the end, this whole thing was a *complete* mess. Bella’s awkward love triangle movie date turned into a flu-ridden disaster. Mike’s puking, Jake’s confessing his undying love while holding a popcorn bucket, and Bella’s trying to piece it all together while dealing with the flu. And where was Edward? MIA, as usual, during the one moment where Bella actually needed him to be there. 😒
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goldeneyedgirl · 9 months
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TwiFicmas23 Day 3: Hybrid (The Party)
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Good evening! I might have spent today reading a very old draft and realizing that as bad as the draft is, there is potential there. I'm pretty excited, and hoping I can salvage some of it for a future day.
But today I humbly offer a new scene from the OG Hybrid. This particular scene comes from earlier in the fic - after Jasper tried to feed on Alice and the Cullens begrudgingly welcome Alice to join their lunch table, but you wouldn't call them friends yet. Plus Alice is still set on being a normal high schooler with normal experiences.
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!
---
The party is exactly what I expected - eighty teenagers in a log house unsupervised. There’s a good mix of Res kids and town kids; and from the conversation that I overhear, it's not just Forks High students from town either - at least a few are from the hippie school which might explain the distinctive smell wafting from the den - and a few people who have definitely graduated. 
I feel awkward from the moment I arrive; after all, other than Angela and the Cullens, I don’t really hang out with many kids from school. I was so determined to have a normal experience and go to a high school party without vampires, I hadn’t really considered the reality of the situation. And the sheer amount of complete strangers here puts me on edge - it’s one thing to try and hang out like a normal teenager with my classmates and schoolmates. It’s an entirely different thing to be faced with a house full of random people when I don’t have anyone here to watch my back. The few parties I had attended in Chicago, I had gone to with one of my foster siblings, and no matter how much we disliked each other or what arguments we had, we always had each other’s back. 
And Cynthia was way too young to be dragged to a high school party - no matter how enthusiastically she would have attended this with me - so I was on my own. I could do this, I had been to parties before. Hell, I’d been a homeless middle schooler when I went to my first party, a rave in an abandoned warehouse. A house party was nothing to be nervous about. 
It’s easy enough to get a slice of pizza and a cup of what I know isn’t just a sugary sweet concoction of soda and juice. I smile and I talk - compliments for a girl in a bedazzled mini-dress, and another one with long pink and white hair; a couple of jokes for the guys manning the pizza boxes. I feel like I’m playing the part of a teenage girl at a party more than I feel like myself, but it’s something. I even manage to smile prettily and take a puff of a cigarette that I know isn’t tobacco and maybe have another drink and another until I’ve made party-friends with a group from Port Angeles who know a guy who knows a girl who got an invite or something. I feel a little more at ease with the alcohol in my system, and when the conversation turns to something I’m more familiar with.
In fact, I’m in the middle of explaining how we used to do our nails at my last foster home, when I’m rescued by a group of Forks High classmates; Mike Newtown is clearly their spokesperson as he unwelcomely grabs my arm. 
“Hey, we didn’t know you were here,” he says loudly; I can tell from the flush on his cheeks, he’s either helped himself to the beers piled into the bathtub down the hall or he’s been drinking the same punch as I have.
“I’ve been here a while,” I say, and decide that I’m not going to make a fuss that he’s glanced down at my chest right now. He can look twice, and then I start getting bitchy.
“We’re about… about to play a game. Connor’s setting up, come join us.”
There’s something about the way that Mike is pulling on my arm, and two of the girls he’s with are looking at me that makes me agree, quickly bidding the group I was talking to farewell. 
“You’re Alice, right?” One of the girls sidles up to me, sloshing her drink a little. “First party, huh? I’m Jennifer. A lot of these people crashed tonight. You gotta look out for each other.”
“Mrs Sawyer is gonna lose her shit when she sees this,” chortled the other girl, shoving a full cup at me. “Rob isn’t going to see the light of day until he’s like thirty after this.”
A boy I recognise from English - Austin - sidled up to us. “Rob’s in the den and he’s out. He’s not gonna have a clue what happened here. Told him to pace himself, but he never fuckin’ listens. Conner’s set up, let’s go.”
I take my seat at whatever dumb drinking game this is, and everyone seems eager to play. Jennifer and Samantha sit with me, but it doesn’t stop Mike Newton - who seems somewhat out of place here, without his usual group of friends - from clumsily flirting with me. I’ve had too much of the soda to appropriately call him out and make him stop, and my lukewarm disinterest seems to actually encourage him, though Jennifer swats at his hand when he attempts to casually touch my leg. 
It’s not the worst night or party I’ve been to. It’s hot and loud, but there aren’t any fights breaking out, and most of the illicit substances seem to be kept in the back rooms of the house. It’s amazing how time locked up in a mental hospital cured me of any interest in anything stronger than weed and whatever was in my drink; plus the last thing I wanted was to get that kind of reputation. 
But by midnight, I feel… sticky. I’m sweaty and my mouth tastes sour and sickly; my head is spinning and I’m too hot and I need to get out of this shitty house and away from these people who don’t even know who I am. Samatha and Jennifer have clearly decided to keep track of me, and there’s some obligation because I’m one of them, but they aren’t my friends and we probably won’t acknowledge this night ever again. Plus, a few of the hippie school guys have been watching me from the corner, and even through the haze of alcohol and weed, alarm bells are ringing - I can sense animosity from a mile away. 
I need to get out of here. 
It’s easy enough to excuse myself to the bathroom and then just leave through the laundry room door without anyone noticing. My head feels syrupy as I make it down the deck stairs and out into the night. 
It’s colder outside than I remember and the air is such a relief, I want to press my face to the ground. I wish I had some water, but I need to get home - I was supposed to get a ride from someone here, but I didn’t trust myself to ask the right person right now, and I don’t really want to wait around any longer.
Plus, it was only a ten minute drive from town to this house, I could easily walk it. I’d made Simon drop me off at the crossroad half a mile away, I knew the way home. 
Stumbling down the driveway, I let the noise and light of the party fade away behind me. The house was right up against the lake, and the drive wove through the forest from the main road - leaving me in the dark. But it was nice; a relief.  
It was a beautiful night, and I was enjoying the walk - it was even helping sober me up. 
At least, I was right up until about halfway, when I tripped over something and landed flat on my face in the gravel. That also indicated to me that I was… not quite as sobered up as I thought, because the pain felt very distant in that moment, like I was filing it away for later. 
I shouldn’t have had so much to drink when I knew it was spiked.  
Getting up was not a possibility. My ankle was sore, the world was spinning, my knees were burning, and the ground was nice and cool. The best I could manage was to half crawl to the side of the driveway and collapse in the long grass to wait for it to pass. I wasn’t sure if that was the night, my drunken state, or my inability to stand up, but I figured I could wait it out. I was comfy. 
It was a pretty night, with the clouds drifting across the sky. It’s pleasant enough that I just lie there, staring up at the moon and the stars, with my head swimming. It’s not as bad as the feeling I used to get in the hospital when they’d give us the drugs to make us sleep. That made me feel like I didn’t have control over my arms and legs, like I was stuck and trapped and at the whim of someone else. This is warmer, and I’m still in control; kind of like I’m dreaming but awake. It was nicer. I kind of understood why some kids had preferred alcohol to meds now. 
It’s just so peaceful, even if the damp is seeping through my top, that I lose track of the time. Dad had been worried letting me go, and made me swear I’d be home by one but I was nearly certain that I was going to miss that deadline. It was weird having a curfew - unless I was homeless, curfews at the hospital and in my foster homes had been more of the ‘in bed by nine, don’t even consider an alternative’ flavour. 
At a certain point, though, reality began to break through the peaceful little haze I had going on, and I remembered my phone in the little sling bag that had gallantly survived the entire night without getting lost. 
There were no cabs in Forks to my knowledge - and from what I had seen at school, there was a fifty-fifty chance they’d refuse to pick me up for one of three reasons: I was the daughter of the gay guys, I was the mysterious newcomer, or that I had been drinking at a high school party. After a few weeks in Forks, I’d found that the small-town judgment and prejudice were quieter than expected but it ran deep. 
Cynthia had programmed a bunch of useful numbers into my phone for me, so maybe that included a solution to the fact I was lying in the mud next to the driveway of a classmate’s house.  
Scrolling through my phone contacts, I wondered if I should just bite the bullet and call Dad or Simon, and own the fact that I was still a little bit high and still a little… okay, a lot drunk. I wouldn’t be the first ex-foster kid to come home drunk, and I wouldn’t be the last. But I also dreaded the look on my Dad’s face; that tired and disappointed one that looked like he had failed me and not the other way around. I wanted so much to be able to say that yeah, the party was fine, and have that been the end of it. I didn’t want the lecture, I didn’t want the embarrassment and I didn’t want…
I froze as I looked at my list of contacts. Five new numbers that I had certainly not programmed into my phone, and Cynthia certainly hadn’t added because if she knew and had these numbers, I was nearly positive that she would have sold them off to the highest bidder in the middle school cafeteria. 
How the fuck had the Cullens’ collective numbers ended up in my phone? Had I done it at one of our awkward lunches? That seemed unlikely, but my brain couldn’t completely rule that out as a possibility, especially when I was sleep-deprived or bogged down with homework. And why would Dr Cullen’s number be included if we’d exchanged numbers during lunch? As shitty as their high school act was, they at least knew that offering me Dr Cullen’s number would be fucking weird. 
Scowling, I selected the one member of the Cullens I would actually willingly talk to - well, the one member of the Cullens that I was quasi-certain wouldn’t immediately pass the phone off to any of the three members of the family I refused to speak to on principle. 
Emmett seemed cool, but I sensed weakness in him when it came to the will of Rosalie and tonight was not the night to test that theory out. 
If I hadn’t had so much punch, this would seem like a terrible idea. But if I hadn’t had so much punch, I’d be cheerfully walking myself home. Well, not cheerfully. But I’d be home in bed already, willing tonight to just go down in my personal history as mediocre and not worth repeating. 
“Hello?” The sound of Jasper’s voice sent a shiver down my spine and a spike of … reassurance? Like everything was okay or would be okay because he was so good at putting things… putting me… back together. 
Or he would be, in the future. I had seen it. 
“Why is your number in my phone?” In my head, it sounded indignant but even I could hear my words run together. Fuck. “I didn’t put it there.”
“…Alice?” The way he said my name… I thought I’d known what it would sound like after years of visions. But it was different in real life, better. He sounded confused and slightly startled, which was new. Normally when he said my name it was a polite greeting. In my visions, it was warmer and more intimate. 
“Yes, it’s Alice - do you and your family regularly inflict your phone numbers on unsus… unsusp… teenage girls that don’t know you stole their phones? You’re getting us all confused?”
“Alice are you… intoxicated?” He sounds incredulous. 
“Why does that matter?” I demanded. Jasper might be the love of my life, but he had not yet earned the privilege of commenting on my chosen activities, let alone get to police me. “For your information, there was a party at Rob Sawyer’s tonight and all the real teenagers went. You and your family need to be more convincing.”
“I can attest that not everyone went, because Bella is downstairs with Edward,” Jasper replied. 
“Well, her high school priorities are clearly different to mine,” I retorted; I was irritated that he was so calm and I couldn’t work out why. “I prefer to enjoy my youth. It’s fleeting, you know. One day she’ll look back and wonder why she spent so… so much time listening to her old man boyfriend play the piano when she could have been doing something fun… like going to a rave.” What was I saying? I hated raves. I liked getting dressed for them, because it was fun, but I hated how sweaty and crowded and smothering they were.
“Where are you, Alice?” Jasper sounds far too amused for my liking, and if he were here, I’d have smacked him. 
“I’m fine.” My back was actively wet now, and I was certain I was covered in mud. 
“Uh huh. Are you alone?”
“Yes.” There was a nearby frog I could hear, but nothing else. I was surprised - no one had left yet. Was it normal for Forks High parties to go on this long or did people stay over or what?
“You should call your parents, Alice. Get them to pick you up. Or Carlisle can if you’re worried,” Jasper says so kindly that all my indignation deflates like a balloon, and a ball of panic wells up in my chest. 
“No. You cannot tell my father about this,” I said. “You have to swear.”
“Alice, I think your parents would prefer you were home safe rather than alone and intoxicated,” Jasper said soothingly. 
“No. I don’t… they aren’t allowed to see this. I’m already too much trouble and messed up their lives, and I don’t want to disappoint them again,” I said, and felt tears well up in my eyes. “I must be costing them so much and they have to take me a bunch of places and watch me and every time I mess up or say something wrong, they get this look on their faces like they screwed up. It’s not. They didn’t have to take me into their home, not really, and I… I want to make it worth it for them.” I sniffled. 
There was silence on the other end of the phone. 
“Tell me where you are, Alice. I’ll drive you home.”
“Rob Sawyer’s house party. It’s on a dirt road.”
“That’s not… Don’t hang up, okay? I’m going to track your phone.”
“That sounds illegal, Jasper,” I said, wriggling around on the grass to get more comfortable. “How do you even do that?”
“It’s a long story. And yes, it is. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“I’m fine.” Kind of cold and muddy, and my knees and ankle were hurting in kind of a distant way, but the sweaty nausea had passed. I could easily fall asleep here. It wouldn’t even make the top ten worst places I’d slept in my life. 
“We’ll agree to disagree, Alice.” I could listen to Jasper say my name forever. “But I do have a question for you while we wait.”
“Okay?” 
“Why did you call me? I put all the numbers in your phone. Why me?”
I froze. He didn’t sound like he resented that I had chosen him; there was a note of something in his voice, something raw and real and even a little bit… not eager. But something. Maybe curiosity?
“Who else would I call? I hate doctors. Rosalie hates me. Edward doesn’t trust me and he reads minds. Emmett was a possibility, but he looks easily broken,” I said. 
“And Esme?” Jasper sounded disappointed. 
“I have a lot of mommy issues, let’s not unpack that box. I didn’t see her number there anyway.” I propped myself up on one arm. “You weren’t the last resort, Jasper. You were my first and only choice.”
“…Why?” Now I could hear the self-loathing in the boy’s voice. 
“Because I trust you,” I replied. “You’re the person I trust the most in the world. Or you will be one day.”
Silence again. “I don’t understand.”
“I’ve known about you for a long time,” I said, watching the clouds move across the sky. “You’re a protector, a planner. You love to read and learn but you loathe high school. You have a wicked sense of humour, and you just… fix everything. There’s nothing too terrible or silly or chaotic that you don’t make better. Just by being there, you’re making things perfect…” He was. I had years of dreams of laughing and talking together, of the way he would stroke my hair and wrap his arms around me. The way we’d lie together, him reading and me drawing or messing around on my phone. We were meant to be so happy. 
And it had to be said that he was… goddamn magnificent in bed. And like, I wasn’t entirely sure when he had died, but it was definitely in a ‘lie back and think of England’ era for women, so I felt like I should send a fruit basket or something to whichever ex-girlfriend had intervened because he was… outstanding. I’d only seen stuff like that over the last few years and it had been very enlightening on multiple levels. It had also been comforting that after every single thing that I’d lived through, I’d still be able to have that kind of intimacy with another person without all that fear and grief looming over me, and even enjoy it. 
If he gave me one single chance to be something, whatever he wanted, I’d be his ride-or-die forever. I knew how fiercely and completely we’d love each other, and I wanted that so badly. He’d been my best friend long before either of us had set foot in Forks, and I just needed him to take that leap of faith and trust me, the weird girl who knew too much, to capture that future that we both desperately wanted and needed. 
And I had no idea how I would convince Jasper of that. That I wouldn’t ask for this if it wasn’t something that I was so very certain we both wanted… 
The phone had gone quiet. 
“…What was I saying?” I yawned. 
“I hope I can live up to your expectations.” Jasper’s voice was softer now. “I’ve got your location, Alice, I’ll be there soon.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said, as the phone line went dead. Awkwardly jamming my phone back into my sling bag, I closed my eyes for just a moment. Jasper was coming to get me and I’d go home, and everything would be okay.
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If a version of Midnight Sun existed for each following instalment of the Twilight series (New Moon, Eclipse, Breaking Dawn), what do you think they’d be called/what would you call them and what (new) scenes would be in them?
Anon, you speak my greatest dream. I want this in my life. If no one else does, then I am the sole person who does. If there is not one person who wants this, it means that I have died.
I need this.
But for now, I can only imagine (and no doubt fail miserably to what it would be in actuality).
New Moon
The thing is that Meyer would also want to call this New Moon for the reason that she called it New Moon for Bella: this is a book about hopelessness. Edward leaves, Bella's soulmate, she literally cannot survive without him and this book is her discovering "oh, yeah, I literally cannot survive without him" (and making friends with Jacob but let's be real Meyer was never that into that).
It's a book where the moon, the light, is gone.
For Edward, we have the same narrative, he tries to leave Bella for her own good, fails, has a miserable time, and comes crawling back only to find that he's made everything worse.
But because Edward is more dramatic, and to thematically work with Midnight Sun (named thus as Bella is the unexpected sunlight in what should be the darkest of Edward's nights) we have Polar Night which is the phenomenon opposite of Midnight Sun where instead of the sun never setting at all we have the night never ending.
As for what would be in it. My friend, my beautiful friend, everything would be in it.
We'd get the scene where Edward bullies his family into leaving, many of them having reservations, and then steals all Bella's photographs and tries and fails to steal the stereo out of her car. We'd get scenes of Edward fantasizing about Bella marrying and holding hands with MiKe NEWtoN and it being entirely too much for him. We get all of the birthday party, period, which from Edward's point of view would no doubt be insane.
We have Edward so fucking depressed that he feels he's bringing the family down and chooses to leave on the vague pretext of catching Victoria. Then he doesn't catch Victoria and loses her in Mexico but is so depressed he just keeps going south until he hits Brazil.
Where he stays, and per what he says to Bella (which is undoubtedly not the entire truth) he was fucking miserable and did nothing for months. Did he have a Hallucination Bella who told him not to eat human food because it'd make him sick? Did he write a rock opera about Bella Swan only to realize it didn't live up to real life and burn it in a fit of despair and anger? What about the family calling to check in? We know that happened, Rosalie could reach Edward and he answered, so did they just call and quietly try to ask if Edward's coming back home or not? You know? Anytime? Edward?
And then of course his pleading for death with the Volturi, being told no, planning his elaborate massacre-suicide before settling on good old suicide without any murder and Bella being alive and that whole debacle from his point of view including "OH NO OTHER MAN MOVED IN" when he realizes Jacob's... kind of... a thing...
Everything would be new in part because we see so little of Edward and given the insanity in Midnight Sun that was never in Twilight I can't even guess to what Edward got up to for months in Rio.
It could be fucking anything.
Eclipse
Or "Edward did a bad thing and is now very nervous" the novel. As for what it's call, this is less clear as we have to go with the sun/moon themes here, and Eclipse is already taken. If we're allowed weather related events maybe "Eye of the Hurricane" as there's a storm out there and this book is about Edward barely holding his shit together. This is his nightmare scenario in every way.
Bella has a new love interest, a friend she believes is platonic who is very interested in her, and worse, Edward actually does admire and is hands down in Edward's opinion the better man for her to be with. Bella's changed when he was gone and is now an adrenaline junky, what else about her has changed? How much did he miss? She's involved in werewolves who all hate Edward, for good reason, and want her to leave him, for good reason. Edward has discovered that he actually can't leave Bella, Alice was right, even though he wants to be that strong desperately. Bella got the family to agree to turn her and they'll do it, Edward's barely gotten her to agree to be turned by him instead, but she's hemming and hawing about marrying and committing to him and she wants him to bang him (which will likely lead to her death)
Edward is straight up not having a good time, bro.
So, we'd get Edward's insane plans to keep Bella and Jacob apart, his meeting Bella in the road after her looking like he'd love nothing more than to pull The Terminator where he chases her car down. We get Edward's increasing nervousness that Bella "wants to be with him forever" but "doesn't want to marry him" (which for Edward, understandably as he doesn't have Bella's background, is something that just doesn't compute). And there's Jacob, kissing Bella, warming her up at night, thinking very dirty things when Edward's sitting right there internally screaming.
And of course, offscreen things with the family, likely venting about the Denali who are leaving them to die because they won't let them kill the children Native Americans, wondering if they're all going to die in this fight, even more of the tent scene with Jacob (which I'm sure, somehow, I'm sure, got very homoerotic in there). Probably sobbing to Alice "I fucked up" and then hating Rosalie BECAUSE THIS IS ALL HER FAULT HISS HISS.
And of course, what we know he sees from Bree and perhaps the discussion with the family that Bella never got to be privy to.
And I imagine a lot of fantasies of Bella pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies.
Breaking Dawn
I'm going to bow out for this one too, Meyer would want to name it that. Maybe we get "Hailey's Comet" or something, in that Edward has related Bella to a comet streaking across the bleak sky of his life and this is him learning to accept to be happy and perhaps good things are allowed to happen to him.
But anyways.
I mean.
We get Breaking Dawn.
We get Edward gearing himself up for sex and asking the family how to bang a woman. We know he did this. Canonically he confesses to Bella, in the weirdest manner possible, that he asked his entire family how to do it (and it made it clear that Carlisle didn't really approve and was pretty :/ and "don't do it" about all of it). We get the family probably watching Alice like hawks because they're waiting for her to tell them if Bella lived or died through intercourse. We get Edward interrogating the maid in Portuguese and god knows what they even said to one another but it had to be wild.
We get Edward planning Bella's abortion, the betrayal by Rosalie yet again, and then more planning of her forced abortion with Jacob and his opinion on Jacob turning from "respected rival" into "my only friend".
Then we get Edward's complete flip on Renesmee which must have been... I don't even know. But he'd be thinking she's the spawn of Satan before that (in the most Edward manner possible) and then that she's Jesus after that (in the most Edward manner possible).
Then of course there's "my son, Jacob" and honestly probably fantasizing about an adult Renesmee pregnant with Jacob's beautiful babies. Let's be real here. and just...
Look.
I can't predict this.
What we saw of Breaking Dawn was already insane and this would only be more so because it's Edward. There's so much we don't see as Bella pays 0 attention to the other vampires and to the family at large and Edward would just...
I have no idea.
It would just be madness.
TL;DR
I need this.
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pythonees · 2 years
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THREES A CROWD — embry & paul
WARNINGS: none
A/N: so sorry for the delay, but I've been doing a whole bunch of random shit and I might have forgotten about this fic
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ten ˖⋆࿐໋₊
"So, how was patrol last night?" You ask as you climb into the backseat of the truck. Rain pelts against the roof, water running down the windows in thin ribbons. It warps the silhouettes of the other students running to their cars or the bus, looking more like blurred shapes than actual people.
You shake yourself out of your soaked jacket with an annoyed huff, shivering despite the warmth of the truck. You lean forward in your seat to better see the boys, propping your face up with your hands.
"Horrible, Jake ran his mouth the entire time, trying to convince Sam that Bella deserved to know about us," Paul replied with a roll of his eyes, slowly pulling out of the parking spot and out of the lot. He turns to look at you over his shoulder once he's on the road, making you realize just how close you were to him in the small space when your noses nearly bump.
"Did it work?" You get an ugly snort from Embry in response, a laugh bubbling up before you could even think to stop it. When you turn to look at him you find yourself in the same predicament, close enough to count the freckles that littered his skin. Your face feels hot, and you will yourself to stay calm, knowing that they'll hear your heart racing if you're not careful.
"No, the only thing he could think of was, 'Bella knows about the leeches, so why not us?'" Embry mocks, pitching his voice to try and sound like Jake, "It doesn't help when Bella calls him all day, makes him want to tell her even more."
You let out a quiet hum in response, not knowing what else to say but wanting to make sure they knew you were listening. Paul turns to look at you again, seeming to only just realize where you were, "You should probably put your seat-belt on."
"I thought your senses were heightened?" You tease, still not moving from your spot between the boys. He looks offended at the comment, though a playful glare settles on his face when he realizes you were just joking around.
"They are, still doesn't mean one of these dumb-asses won't crash in front of us," Paul gestures to the car in front of you, one that you immediately recognizes as Mike Newton's.
And while the threat of your fellow students is enough of a reason to sit back in your seat, you have an alternative motive for why you're still leaning foreword. A shiver threatens to wrack through your body just at the thought of sitting back in your seat, so you prepare yourself for the inevitable teasing.
"You two are really warm and I'm cold," You admit under your breath, keeping your eyes firmly on the road and away from the boys. From the corner of your eye, you can see Paul's teasing grin at your admission, "Shut up, Paul."
"I didn't say anything," he exclaims with a laugh, holding a hand up in defence. Rustling from the passenger seat draws your attention over to Embry, who had just undone his seat belt and was twisting around in his seat. You watch him in amusement as he shoves the backpack that was in his lap to the ground.
"What're you doing?" You ask, shifting back into your seat when Embry sits up from his, "Em?"
He waves you off, manoeuvering his muscular body between the front seats and into the back. The truck isn't big enough for him to move around in, and you try and fail to stifle your laugh when he hits his head off the roof of the truck.
Paul doesn't bother to hold his in, his laugh loud and deep in the small space. It's cut off immediately by Embry punching him in the shoulder, and he whips his head around to glare at Embry. He throws his own punch in response, though Embry must have been expecting it, diving forward into the back seat, narrowly avoiding the swing.
Embry falls heavily into the seat on your right, grinning up at you from his slouched position, "Hi."
"Hi," You laugh, reaching out to brush his dishevelled hair back in place, "what're you doing?"
"You said you were cold," Embry shrugs, moving closer so he could wrap his arm around your waist. He tugs you into the warmth of his body, and you can immediately feel the cold leaving you as you relax into his side.
"Oh, I could get used to this."
"I mean, you are stuck with us," Paul says, meeting your eyes in the rear-view mirror with a teasing grin. Embry instantly tenses next to you at the comment, hand flexing on your waist. Paul zeros in on the movement as well, face dropping slightly. He turns his attention back to the road, hands flexing on the steering wheel.
"I wouldn't really call it being stuck," You say, leaning into Embry's side to try and give him some comfort, not knowing what was wrong. Thankfully it seems to work, Embry instantly melting into your side, resting his head on top of yours.
Stomach fluttering, you try to calm your racing heart, "So, what's the plan for today?"
"Was thinking of going to the beach if it clears up. Maybe go get some food," Paul supplies from the front, turning around to see your reaction. He eyes the two of you wrapped up together, face softening at the content look on both of your faces.
"Either's fine with me," You mumble with a glare, gesturing for him to look at the road. Paul turns with a roll of his eyes, but not before he gives you another teasing look.
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When you pull up to Emily's house Sam and Jared are waiting outside, looking impatient as they watch the truck drive up. Thankfully the rain had stopped before they were even halfway to Emily's place, the sun shining brightly through the trees.
"This won't be good," Embry mumbles, pulling away from you with a groan. Before the truck is even fully stopped Embry has the door open, jumping out to see what was going on.
You follow out behind him once the truck has come to a stop, standing next to him as Paul comes up to your other side. Looking around you immediately notices the lack of snarky remarks at your close proximity, "Where's Jake?"
"We're going to go get him," Sam states, "Should only be a couple of minutes. Emily's in the kitchen baking if you want to wait inside with her."
You nod, waving goodbye to Paul and Embry as they follow the others into the trees. Once you can't see them anymore you walk up the stairs of the house, hesitating a moment before pushing it open slowly, "Hello?"
"Oh, hello! You can just put your things on the couch, the boys shouldn't be too long." Emily calls over faint clanging in the kitchen. You quickly put your bag and coat next to the couch, tucked away so that none of the guys would trip over it when they got back.
When you walk into the kitchen it's to Emily cleaning up, gathering up many bowls to dump into the sink. On the counter is a plate of muffins, chocolate chip, from the looks of it.
"What's in the oven?" You ask, taking some bowls off the top of her stack.
"Thanks," Emily shoots you a smile, placing the bowls into the sink, "Those ones have fruit in it. Those boys eat too much junk, its the only way to get something healthy in them."
You nod along with a laugh, adding your bowls into the sink as well, "You want some help?"
"I would love that, I wash you dry?"
The kitchen is silent, except for the sound of running water, and the soft, clanking of dishes as they are set aside to dry. You get interrupted partway through to take out the muffins, then you both lose yourselves in cleaning. Before you know it, you've gotten through the mountain of dishes, the sound of a truck pulling into the driveway cutting through the silence.
"I thought they walked to Jakes?" You say, placing the last dish in the drying rack. Quickly drying your hands off on the towel, you head outside to see a familiar red truck pulling in, "Bella?"
Sitting in the driver's seat is Embry, shooting annoyed looks over at Bella as he parks the truck. From the bed comes Jared, jumping out with a laugh, "Looks like the wolfs outta the bag!"
"What?" You look to Embry, confused by his statement.
"Hey, I think we should go back. See if Jacob's okay." Bella leans out of the window, watching Embry and Jared as they walk towards the house. She looks surprised when her eyes land on you, though her worry for Jake takes her attention away from you as fast as it was there.
"I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him. Serves him right." Jared says as he passes you by, ruffling your hair when he's close enough.
"Come on in, Bella. We won't bite." Embry calls to her when she doesn't move from the truck. When he's close enough he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. The action has you flustered in seconds, though you melt into his side with ease, despite your embarrassment.
"Speak for yourself," Jared shoots back before walking into the house.
"Come on," Embry says, tugging you along with him as you follow after Jared.
"What happened to Paul? Where are the others?" You say, looking over your shoulder when you hear the truck door slam shut. Bella slowly trails after you, looking around the area wearily as if something was going to jump out and attack her.
"Bella slapped Paul. Never seen him get that mad before, not before he imprinted on you, at least." Embry mumbles, "He turned in seconds. Jake shifted as well, the both of them are off fighting in the woods somewhere."
"Is he okay?" You ask, panic welling up in your voice. You feel your heart pounding, hands grasping at the arm wrapped around your waist.
"Hey, hey. He'll be fine. You think someone like Jake can take him down?" Embry stops you, hand coming up to push some hair from your face. He cups your cheek, tilting your head up to look you in the eyes.
His confidence in Paul soothes you somewhat, lightening your grip on his arm slightly. Embry holds the stare a second longer before letting your face go, though keeps his arm securely around your waist. "What did you do while we were gone?"
"Oh. I, uh, helped Emily do the dishes. There are some muffins too, they just came out."
"Now we're talkin'!" Embry exclaims, though stops short of the front door, "Hey Bella?"
"Yeah?" Bella stops next to them, looking up at Embry expectantly.
"About Emily, Sam's fiancee. Don't stare. It bugs Sam." With that Embry walks into the house, letting his arm drop from around your waist to instead take your hand.
"Why would I stare?" Bella doesn't get a response, silently following you in. Jared is already sitting at the small, round table, muffin in hand with a big bite taken out of it. Embry gestures for you to grab a seat, snagging two muffins for you both. He drags his chair close enough to press your thighs together, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he gets comfortable.
Emily turns around, mouth open as if she were going to say something, but immediately shuts it when she notices Bella standing off on her own. She looks around the room to find the other guys missing, face falling slightly when she turns to Jared and Embry, "Who's this?"
"Bella Swan. Who else?" Jared says around a mouth full of food. Grossed out, you turn away from Jared and look over your shoulder to Bella, who seems to be curling in on herself with the attention.
"Hmm, so... You're the vampire girl." Emily teases with a grin.
"So, you're... the wolf girl," Bella retorts, walking in past the front door and taking the smallest step into the room.
"Guess so. Well, I'm engaged to one, at least." Emily grabs the large plate of muffins, moving them over to the table. Jared, who had just finished scarfing down his first muffing, reaches for another. Emily quickly stops him, hand shooting out to stop him before he could take a bite, "Hey, save some for your brothers. And ladies first. Muffin?"
"Sure, thanks." Bella comes to send on your right, reaching past you to take a muffin off of the top. You give her what you hope is a comforting smile, wanting her to feel at ease after having been brought into the packs' world so suddenly.
"Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam's gag order."
"Um, he didn't say anything to me," Bella says, confused.
"It's 'cause he can't," You say, leaning into Embry's side. You ignore the teasing look from Jared, taking a bite out of your muffin. Instead, you watch Bella as she backs away from the table.
"It's a wolf thing," Embry explains, "Alpha's orders get obeyed whether we want 'em to or not. Oh, and check it out. We can read each other's thoughts"
"Will you shut up?" Jared groans, though he sounds more playful than actually upset, grabbing another muffing now the Emily had her back turned to him, "These are trade secrets. Damn it! This chick runs with vampires."
"You can't really run with vampires," Bella starts, earning a laugh from Emily when she notices the dumbfounded look that settles on Jared's face, "'Cause they're fast."
"Yeah? Well, we're faster. Freaked out yet?" Jared bounces back fast, a proud smirk crossing his face when Bella is stunned into silence.
"You're not the first monsters I've met."
"Jake's right. You're good with weird," Sam strolls into the kitchen as he makes a b-line for Emily.
The conversation now interrupted, you can't help but stare past Embry's shoulder and out the open door. Embry notices right away, following your line of sight before turning back to you, "What's wrong?"
"Where's Paul?" You ask, though your question is almost immediately answered when a second later, Paul and Jacob come around the corner of the house. They're laughing, shoving each other playfully as if they weren't fighting minutes before. Paul walks right over to you once he sees you, the smile on his face settling into a softer, more pleasing look as he closes the distance.
"What, you worried about me?"
You snort, turning away from him with a laugh, "Not anymore I'm not."
Paul pulls a chair up on your other side, and when he sits down he's pressed right up against you, just like Embry on your other side. He grabs up a muffin from the pile, taking a huge bite out of it as he looks between you and Embry, "You decide where you wanted to go?"
You're momentarily distracted when he shifts in his seat, pressing the length of his leg against yours. Paul watches you intently, eyes flicking over you when you start to squirm under the attention, "We could go to the beach?"
A scoff from the door startles you. When you turn around in your seat, Jake is glaring at you, arms crossed as he leans against the doorframe. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything, though he didn't have to for both Embry and Paul to tense up, as if waiting for a fight. Jake simply gestures to Bella, steering her out of the house and towards the path that leads to the beach.
"You know what," You start, wiping your hands off on a napkin. You push your chair back far enough to slip out from between the boys, looking between Paul and Embry, "Let's go finish that movie instead."
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©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.
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vasiktomis · 1 year
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🔔 Ding ding! 🔔
Introducing your fighters! Please consider your vote wisely as they step into the ring and fight for the title of worst character!
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Mike Newton
Notable fails: - Simp. - Blonde. 👎 - The killings. - Referee quote: "what a marshmallow"
Marcus
Notable fails: - Historically not great in a fight. - Dead wife. - Tragically handsome. - Referee quote: "Skill issue for his wife dying"
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magicianpanache · 2 years
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How Smart Is Bella
Spoiler alert: smarter than most teenagers, but not that much.
Some people might laugh and say "of course she's dumb, she jumped off a cliff for a guy LOL". I'm not talking about that kind of smart. I'm talking about raw processing power (the difference between wisdom and intelligence in D&D, if you will).
After all, she's introduced as a clever girl in Twilight (see her essay which Mike doesn't understand, her grades in biology, even the attitudes of the characters towards her...)
So, what are the main things that make her seem smart ?
First of all, she has good grades. That the classic way to show your teenage character is smart. However, this can be pretty easily dismissed. In Twilight, Bella has good grades because she did the biology lab before. In New Moon, she's depressed and doing all she can do to take her mind off Edward, which translates to studying a lot and getting good grades. However, the fact that she studies so much to get those grades is a lot less impressive than if she got them while, say, having a social life or being part of a club. It is, to be fair, though, better than what most people could achieve.
But she gets accepted into Dartmouth ! Indeed, she gets accepted in an Ivy League school. However, having not sent her own application and never participated in any extracurricular or similar activity, I think it's pretty clear Edward is the one who got her in (probably with a bribe).
The second main reason is that she reads a lot of old books. It's her main character trait, actually. Be it Romeo and Juliet or Wuthering Heights, she read it. Is it actually a sign of intelligence, though ? After all, there's reading a book and there's understanding it's themes and points in it's social context. For example, Romeo and Juliet isn't (only) a romance, it's a tragedy. Not only is it a tragedy, but it's a critic of the blossoming role of love in marriage and a commentary on feuds and the impulsiveness of teenagers. Bella actually has some critical thinking, as her essay about misogyny is Shakespeare demonstrates (though we have no idea how good it was). We don't know how good her essay was (and if she chose the subject), but she did write it. However, that's the only hint we get, and Bella fails to actually demonstrate her understanding of Wuthering Heights when she compares herself to Cathy (we're both selfish she cries...). But she does understand Shakespeare, so kudos to her.
But she connects the dots about the Cullens, I hear you say ! That takes deductive reasoning ! Come on, I answer, she had no idea what he was until Jacob gave her the answer. That's more a proof of her ability to flirt than her brain.
All in all, though she's smarter than Mike Newton, Bella just isn't all that smart. She works hard and enjoys reading.
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its-a-worm · 3 years
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y’all we fucking did it we got twilight to #3 on netflix what the fuck
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blackerthanisound · 3 years
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Bella: He [Mike Newton] grew more confident, sitting on the edge of my table to talk before Biology class started, ignoring Edward as completely as he ignored us.
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So, Mike is clearly throwing his ass between these two. Like his pasty, flat ass is going to stop this girl from sneaking glances at this asshole she’s already obsessed with.
Nice try, though.
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thealtoduck · 2 years
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New Stranger Things OC: 009 aka Noah Lane
*Spoilers for Season 4 vol 1 and vol 2*
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Faceclaim: Louis Partridge
Full name:
Real Name: [Redacted]
As a test subject: Nine
Chosen name: Noah ”Nine” Lane
Gender: Cis Male
Birthplace: Port Lions, Alaska, U.S.A
Birthdate: September 14th, 1971
Family: [Redacted]
Backstory:
Nine was born in the small town Port Lions in Alaska, where he didn’t stay for long as he was soon abducted by Dr Brenner and turned into one of his projects and was tatooed with the number ”009”. Unlike most of the other projects he didn’t have any telekinetic powers but instead only had telepathic powers. While growing up he became close friends with Eleven
*Season 4 spoilers incoming*
Nine was the only other subject than Eleven to survive One’s massacre of the workers and subjects at the lab. Then a few years later he and Eleven escaped the lab together when she accidentally opened the first portal to the Upside down.
Personality:
”Oh Nine, where to begin with you”. If there was anyone more confusing than Eleven when they found her, it was Nine. Nine is a very quiet person who prefers to listen then talk. He’s a little oblivious and is in his own little world a lot of the time. He’s not the most emotive person either and only shows it to select people or in very emotional circumstances. He has terrible social skills after being raised in the lab is and his go-to introduction is ”I’m Nine, i’m from Alaska”.
Because of his rather neutral personality, people get suprised when he does show emotion. For example when he first watched cartoons on television like reruns of ”The Jetsons”, ”The Flintstones” and ”Scooby Doo, Where are you?” people were suprised to see how invested he was, sitting with his mouth gaping way to close to the screen.
Same goes when they heard him laugh for the first time while reading his favorite comic series. They were hanging out in Mike’s basement a few days after they found him and Eleven and all of sudden they all heard a soft laugh and looked with confused expressions at him and Dustin asked shocked ”Did you just laugh?” and Nine then showed them the comic where Lois Lane goes back in time to krypton and steals Superman’s dad from his mom.
He can also be quite protective of his new friends and family and is extremely loyal to them and would basically explode people’s brains to save them.
Powers:
Telepathy:
Mind Reading.
Empathic abillities.
Speaking telepathically with people.
Mind manipulation.
Minor mind control.
Give people headaches that can range from small harmless ones and ones they die from.
He can also help El with her telepathy by kinda helping extending her telepathic range without the need of a sensory deprevation tank.
Strengths:
Telepathic abillities.
Good music taste.
A damn good poker face.
Weaknesses:
Using his telepathy in big crowds is harder and gives him headaches.
Overuse of his powers can cause exhaustion.
Like Eleven he also has claustrophobia after being locked in a dark room as punishment for whenever he failed one of Dr Brenner’s experiments.
He also has ptsd from the traumatic experiences the hawkins lab brought upon him.
Limited vocabulary
Random Facts:
His closest friends are Eleven, Nancy, Max, Dustin, Lucas, Will and Mike.
He has a crush on Steve Harrington but it’s mostly based looks and what he learned from Madonna ”The boy with the cold hard cash is always Mr Right”.
Some of his favorite songs are (in no specific order):
”Physical” by Olivia Newton John
”Break The Rules Tonite” by Kim Carnes
”Proud Mary” by Tina Turner
”Lucky Star” by Madonna
”Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush
”Saving All My Love For You” Whitney Houston
”Material Girl” by Madonna
”I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany
”What’s Love Got To Do With It” by Tina Turner
”Edge Of Seventeen” by Stevie Nicks
Likes:
Staring intimedatingly at people.
His walkman, it’s his most treasured possesion.
Nancy Wheeler, not romantically but he thinks she’s really cool and follows her like a lost puppy
Music, specifically Madonna, Tina Turner, Kim Carnes, Kate Bush, Fleetwood Mac…
Comics, his favorites are the old ”Superman’s Girlfriend Lois Lane” comics he found in Mike’s basement. He finds them funny. It was also where he found his chosen last name Lane.
Cartoons, his favorite is ”The Jetsons” and he also likes ”The Flintstones”, ”Scooby Doo, Where are you?”, ”Super Friends” and ”She-ra: Princess of Power”.
Colorful and stylish clothes.
Dislikes:
When people don’t let him do his own thing.
People being controlling over him and Eleven.
Dr Brenner and the people of the Hawkins Lab.
Quotes and random things he does:
”I’m Nine, i’m from Alaska…”
Also Nine: *Can’t even point out Alaska on a map*
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*Humming Olivia Newton John’s song Physical while walking casually through Hawkins with a grumpy expression and not knowing where the hell he is*
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”Dustin, gave me a knife…”
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”I’m a skater…”
*Has been on a skateboard once and held Max’s hands all the time*
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”I heard Mike call Eleven ”pretty”… am i pretty?”
——
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therealvinelle · 3 years
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Could you expand what happened during the funeral in Ftlow?
I mean, it's the kind of thing where we knew all the people going in and the rough outline of how they would clash, but never actually sat down to plot it out in detail. That kind of thing happens as we write.
That being said.
Also, trigger warning for the following post as it talks about suicide.
The attendants
You have a rich cast of people who will be going to Bella's funeral for various reasons.
THE GRIEVING FATHER Charlie Swan lost his daughter to suicide because the idiot she fell in love with turned out to be a delusional psychopath and her best friend was just as bad. With her history of depression and mental health problems Charlie thought at first she was taking things much better than last time, now he knows that wasn't the case at all.
THE SUDDENLY BEREFT MOTHER When Renée Dwyer heard her daughter broke off her engagement she was initially pleased. Oh, she didn't quite see Edward Cullen eloping with Jacob and it's a shame Bella's so mad at them, but Renée is a progressive woman who accepts the gays. Bella will come around, she'll go to college, most importantly she won't be married at eighteen.
Then the suicide happened, and now Renée is beating herself up for not picking up the signs - there are always signs. She looks to Charlie, who was in a much better position to pick up on these signs, and will never quite forgive him for failing to prevent this.
THE AWKWARD STEP-FATHER Phil Dwyer liked Bella, she was a great kid, this whole thing is a shame. When he hears about how the Cullens, in particular Jasper and Carlisle (?!), crowded Bella in those final weeks, not even letting her run errands on her own, his eyebrows raise along with his creep-o-meter. Uh huh, are we sure Edward and Jacob are the only reasons Bella killed herself? Poor girl.
THE WITNESS Jessica Stanley had drifted apart from Bella, but they were still in the same social circle, you know? They weren't friends, but they were friends. And now Jessica had to witness... that.
Jessica is not okay.
THE ONE WHO COULD HAVE STOPPED IT ALL FROM HAPPENING If only Bella had dated Mike Newton instead. But, he tells himself, squaring his shoulders, he can't blame himself.
Bella wouldn't have wanted that.
THE WOULD-BE IN-LAWS With newborn Bella safely in a bunker in New England, the Cullens find it wiser to attend her funeral than not. It's the natural, human thing to do, for all that they really don't want to.
(That they have to bear the scarlet letter that is their brother having caused the suicide in the first place, and come up with a lie explaining why he didn't even show, is just a bonus.)
Which is all well and good, except Carlisle bit Bella just days earlier, and his eyes are still bright red. Now, he could do contact lenses, but his eye color has consistently been bright gold. The way color theory works, there's not a lense in the world that can turn red to bright yellow.
He wears his aviators to church and refuses to take them off. It is presumed he's been drinking.
THOSE WHO KNOW THE UGLY TRUTH Bad enough that the Cullens came to Forks, worse that they turned Bella, unforgivable that they took Jacob.
Insulting that their leader shows up with eyes that they know are red behind those aviators.
The Quileute attendants, namely Billy Black and Sue, Seth, and Leah Clearwater are there in support of Charlie, but if looks could kill the Cullens would be piles of ash.
(Apart from Leah, who at this point is too done with all of this. She doesn't have it in her to care anymore.)
THE TOWNSFOLK This entire clusterfuck is a very public event witnessed by half of Forks.
-
I was very sad we had to cut the funeral.
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the-golden-onion · 3 years
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do you think mike and Jessica eventually ended up together, if they really got together at all, or do you think they separated at some point? sorry if this is a really random ask, it was just a sudden topic that came to my mind and I wanted to know what you thought, since you're like THE mike newton blog if there even is one.
i am so honored to be known as “THE mike newton blog” and i feel like i should take a moment to announce that im literally wearing a team mike newton shirt rn fbcnkckclc thank u ☺️💕
i have so many thoughts about mike and jessica!!!!!! i’ll be exploring their relationship a lot in my fic, they have such an interesting dynamic!! (i spend a lot of time thinking about jess, mike, angela, and bella, so just know that my thoughts on their personalities & goals in life are much more in depth than anything their canon characterizations provide!)
the short answer tho is: no i don’t think they would stay together. to me they’ve always seemed like the classic girl/boy next door childhood friends who end up dating more because they care deeply for one another and feel like it’s obvious that they should date, rather than from truly romantic feelings!
jess’s crush eventually fades after they’ve been dating for a while and the honeymoon phase is over, when she realizes being with mike isn’t the big romantic relationship she’s been dreaming about, and that her aspirations reach much father than anything (or anyone) in forks has to offer her.
mike has always felt like a lost soul to me and while he’s excited about their relationship in the beginning, it’s more of a reflection of jess’s enthusiasm than his own. mike spends so much energy being a people pleaser & class clown that he doesn’t really take the time to self reflect and recognize his own boundaries and feelings on their own, rather than mixed up with everything everyone around him expects from him.
This is the first real relationship either of them have, and thus they end up in a messy jumble of hurt feelings and failed expectations as they both try to navigate this crucial adolescent time of learning more about themselves. they break up after a few months and they both say a lot of hurtful things in the fight leading up to it that they regret but refuse to take back. for a while they just pretend that the other doesn’t exist, causing a rift in their friend group. but eventually the ice thaws, because they were good friends for years, and they slowly start tolerating each other again, although they’re never as close as they were before they dated.
jess feels pretty fragile after the breakup, not so much from losing mike but from this new crack in her facade of a “perfect life” - she feels like she’s failed because she didn’t have that dreamy happily ever after with the boy next door that she’s been planning on her whole life. when the cullens move to town, jessica is of course infatuated with edward- he seems so much bigger than life in forks! and obviously he has his shit together more than mike ever did (something mike is acutely aware of as he sees jess fawning over the perfect new guy). she’s absolutely crestfallen when edward abruptly rejects her when she asks him to the dance, and for a moment mike feels vindicated and smug, but that quickly fades when he realizes how deeply jess is hurting. they end up talking for a while about what they’re both going through, and mike asks her to the dance as friends.
phew- this ended up being way longer of an answer than i had planned, but like i said, i love these two so much!! thank you so much for the ask & giving me the excuse to talk about them!! i’ll be exploring all of this and so much more in my fic, Nova, which i will link soon! it’s predominantly a bella/angela fic but jess and mike are main characters as well and go through their own journeys of self discovery 🥰
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If Rosalie had been turned younger, say 15 maybe, how different would her dynamic with everyone be? Surely Edward wouldn’t be so harsh to her at least, Right?
"Surely, Edward wouldn't be so harsh to her at least, right?"
I will remind @dewy39 that Edward judges Jessica Stanley very harshly for the crime of having found Edward attractive and developing a mild crush on him. He not only finds this a personal failing on her fault, but an active character flaw. He has held that grudge for two years by the time canon starts, where Jessica is only 17, and was 15 when the Cullens first moved to Forks.
Or Mike Newton, whose crime is thinking Bella Swan is hot and being a plebian. For that, he deserves a violent death.
Edward absolutely can and does judge his teenage peers harshly all the time.
Her dynamic I imagine would be more or less the same though she might have even less self-confidence than she does in canon being younger/having had this awful thing happen to her when even younger.
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John Mulaney as twilight characters part three
Edward showing Bella the painting of the Volturi
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Every single witness when Renesmee comes out looking like a whole ass immortal child and then tries to touch them
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Alice Cullen (no other explanation needed)
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Bella trying (and failing) to get Edward to sleep with her
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Mike Newton getting hit in the face with a volleyball
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Edward Cullen dying of the Spanish flu
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Felix guarding Aro
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Literally any of the Cullens telling Alice/Edward not to cheat at chess
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The blue filter in twilight (yes it is a character of it’s own)
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Jasper taking Alice to meet the Cullens for the first time and take over Edward’s bedroom
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link to part one
link to part two
link to part four
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myhauntedsalem · 3 years
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Man They Could Not Hang
Throughout the past 100 years, the myths surrounding John ‘Babbacombe’ Lee’s story have taken on a life of their own.
Urban legends, ghostly sightings and tales of supernatural intervention have grown far beyond what anybody in 19th century South Devon could have imagined for the lowly manservant.
Lee, nicknamed The Man They Could Not Hang, came to prominence when he was convicted of murdering his employer, Emma Keyse, and setting fire to her Babbacombe home, called The Glen.
Mike Holgate, of Torquay, an expert on John Lee, said: “During his trial, the prosecution portrayed Lee as a depraved lunatic capable of smashing an old lady’s head with an axe, then slashing her throat with a knife.
“The judge, in passing sentence of death, remarked how calm Lee’s demeanor had been throughout the trial.
“Lee is said to have leaned forward in the dock and replied firmly: ‘The reason why I am so calm is that I trust in the Lord, and He knows I am innocent.’
“In the days leading up to the date of execution, Lee read the Bible prodigiously and proclaimed his innocence.
“It is said he told the prison chaplain the real culprit was the lover of his half-sister, Elizabeth Harris, who was cook at The Glen and expecting a child which was later delivered out of wedlock in Newton Abbot Workhouse.”
The prison governor’s logbook states on the morning of the execution, as Lee approached the gallows trapdoor, he told two prison guards he had dreamt ‘three times the bolt was drawn, and three times the bolt failed to act’.
Lee was a lonely figure on the gallows, but each time an attempt was made to open the trapdoor, it stuck. After each failed attempt the trapdoor was tested and it opened normally, but when Lee stood on it again the door would not open. Three times this happened, each with the same outcome. It is rumored that throughout the ordeal on the scaffold, a white dove perched on the gallows until the condemned man was led safely back to his prison cell.
The Home Secretary told Parliament he could not expect a man to ‘twice face the pangs of imminent death’. Lee began a 23-year prison sentence in Exeter, and from that day the myths about his life spread across the world. Witchcraft and devilish incantations were often talked of when people tried to reason Lee’s escape from death. Friends of Lee claimed they had paid a white witch handsomely to save him from the noose.
Other people told stories of how Lee’s mother had visited the church graveyard near her home at Abbotskerswell, recited the Lord’s Prayer backwards and summoned the Devil to save her son. Also, an old woman called Granny Lee, from Ogwell, is said to have told locals ‘they shall not hang him’ as she walked to Exeter on the morning of the execution and cast a spell on the gallows from a spot overlooking the prison.
In 1905, the witchcraft theory gained credence from a surprising source, the Archdeacon of Westminster, Basil Wilberforce. At the time of the murder he had been a regular visitor to Babbacombe, where he addressed temperance meetings organized by a distinguished neighbor of Emma Keyse, Lady Mount-Temple of Babbacombe Cliff. The churchman was chaplain to the House of Commons and vehemently opposed a growing campaign for Lee’s release. He informed the Home Office that he ‘knew the Lees well’ and said they were ‘a well-known witch family on Dartmoor’.
Whether miracle or sorcery, the events on the scaffold cast doubt in many people’s minds about Lee’s guilt. The editor of The Times, who poured scorn on the Home Secretary’s decision to eventually reprieve Lee, said Lee’s story would ‘encourage foolish and superstitious people to believe, in spite of evidence as clear as noonday, that Lee was wrongfully convicted’.
Mike added: “The Home Office didn’t help themselves, because they refused to release details about the trapdoor malfunction for 100 years, so the myths grew. “There were even questions asked in Parliament at the time. I can’t understand why they wouldn’t announce the details, and they had all the speculation to go through again when he left prison 23 years later.”
After his release, Lee went to London, where he then eloped with a barmaid, abandoning his wife who was expecting their second child. He then seemingly disappeared without trace, having reportedly visited Australia, America and Canada and Mike Holgate only recently discovered that Lee died in 1945.
Mike traced the grave to a cemetery in Milwaukee, America. Records show Lee died, aged 80, on March 19, 1945. The legend certainly did not die with Lee, however, because Mike recently recorded a number of spooky tales about The Man They Could Not Hang. He said: “A strange event added to the mystery more than a century later when a pub named the John Lee opened on Babbacombe Downs at Easter, 1989. “At the beginning of June, the swinging pub sign bearing the logo of a hanged man fell to the ground on three consecutive nights for no discernible reason.
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humans4vampires · 4 years
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Cold Heart
Context: This story was inspired by a tumblr post from tumblr user @cozycullens. The post outlined the potential for sappy holiday content that the original story lacked. The post noted that Twilight fans had to fill in the blanks; I thought it would be fun to write out what Valentine’s Day could have looked like for Edward and Bella. The timeline of this story edits the original canon, meaning the breakup in New Moon and subsequent recoupling happens earlier, allowing the pair to be reunited in time to spend both the Christmas holiday season together and Valentine’s Day. This is before the events are set in motion for the vampire army attack in Eclipse. I’d also like to mention that this story addresses a scene that occurs later in the timeline of the novel. I’ve edited it here to give Edward and Bella a bit of private time that is free of the pressures that the later happenings of Eclipse bring to the moment. In this, I have used direct quotes from Meyer’s novel, and I do not claim to own that content in any way. As stated, this is purely for fun and to share with my fellow Twilight fans.
READ PART TWO HERE
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The dull blue grey light of the morning filtered through my window in a haze, waking me gently from inconsequential dreams. My natural instincts to unfurl myself from my usual swaddle of blankets to reach for him felt empty and unnecessary. Rather, I found myself spread across my bed in a sweaty mess of fabric.
“Edward?” I said softly, propping myself up to take in the room. I blinked quickly and tried to brush the mess of my hair from my face, speaking his name again as a question. There was no reply.
I tried to think back to the night before; I didn’t think he had gone hunting. No, he had surely been with me when I fell asleep. A compilation of Victorian poetry was open face-down on his side of my bed. We made the trip to Seattle a few weeks ago to get the book I needed to get started on my research paper. I had chosen the topic of Tennyson and Rossetti as an ironic gesture toward him – my very own post-Victorian era angel. He was reading his favorites to me, his voice a velvet whisper when I had fallen asleep in his cool embrace.
No, I was sure he had been with me throughout the night. I ran my left palm over the bare sheet beside me and felt the lingering presence of his wintry skin. It was unusual for him to leave before I woke. It was my favorite part of each day, and his. I was wondering what had called him away as I picked up the heavy text to see where he had left off. As I turned the pages to face me, a small piece of paper fluttered into my lap. The note he had left in his elegant script explained his absence.
‘Who are wise in love, love most, say least. Happy Valentine’s Day, love.’
He quoted Tennyson, I was sure, but the poem he had left open was not the same one he referenced. Instead, the book was open to Tennyson’s ‘Crossing the Bar,’ which was certainly not a love poem. I scanned it quickly, trying to garner any meaning from it without success. My mind was racing elsewhere, my heart beating quickly with exultant dread. So he had gone to prepare whatever exorbitant Valentine’s Day surprise he had planned. As fate would have it, this holiday had arrived on a school day and would provide a public audience to witness the surely over-the-top display Edward had planned for me.
Edward’s obsession with making the most of my human experiences had only intensified since reaching our compromise for Carlisle to turn me after my impending high school graduation. Christmas had been a deluge of cheer and merriment thanks to Alice, who was overcompensating for lost time with me – while also, just being Alice. I was still convinced it hadn’t snowed quite as much as she’d wanted and she had somehow managed a snow machine to fill in my yard for Christmas morning. Alice had laughed off my assumptions as absurd, but Charlie was still trying to work out how our yard had had a good three feet more snow than the rest of our neighborhood.
The halls had certainly been decked in Cullen home, too. It had to be visible from space from the sheer amount of Christmas lights neatly hung on every eave and railing. For the entire month of December, the house smelled of fresh gingerbread and pine. Every surface had been transformed with fresh garlands and shiny decorations. The fireplace in the grand living room was constantly crackling a gentle fire, flickering its light against the enormous tree trimmed with ornaments gathered over the many decades of Christmases past. And the gifts – oh – I couldn’t even bring myself to continue the thought.
I was brought back to reality, the sweet valentine in my shaking hand. I took a staggered breath and made a passing glance at the clock as I rushed to the bathroom. I tried not to think about the day ahead as I dressed. Charlie had already left for the station and the rest of my morning at home seemed to move in a blur of anxiety. I stumbled out the door in a black turtleneck, jeans, bean boots, and my mustard yellow coat. I thought my very standard attire might signal Edward to my disinterest in any outlandish public displays of affection. I drove slowly to Forks High School through the rain muddled snow. My truck dredged through the sludge into the parking spot beside the familiar silver Volvo.
The parking lot was already full and busy with the usual Friday commotion. I looked out my rearview mirror to take in the pops of pink and red from the Valentine’s baubles that everyone seemed to be toting. I had always found the holiday rather arbitrary – a well-marketed event to boost the sales of chocolates and flowers. Until my mother had found Phil, Valentine’s Day was usually spent in front of the television with a pint of ice cream, two spoons, and a chick-flick. I was trying to remember the last Valentine’s Day movie my mom and I had watched together when a quick knock on my driver’s side window snapped my eyes from my rearview.
The morning’s panic melted from my bones as I took him in. Edward was standing there, my favorite crooked smile on his lips, a single and perfect red rose held up in his hand.
“Good morning,” he murmured as I opened my door and got to my feet to stand in front of him. “Did you get my Valentine?”
“Mmm,” I hummed. “Tennyson?”
He nodded, a smirk crossing his expression. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”
I felt a blush beginning to mark my cheeks and looked down at my feet as he handed me my rose. He moved to rest that now empty hand above my head on the frame of my truck, leaning to tighten the space between us. His free hand swept down my jaw, his gentle fingers stopping below my chin to tilt my head up. He bent down to press his lips to mine, his cool breath sending my delicate humanity into a tailspin. The kiss was, as expected, refined… at first. Unexpectedly, he draped an arm around my body to pull me closer to his frame. He lifted me effortlessly to continue the kiss as my free hand found its way around the base of his neck and into his bronze hair.
When his response became rigid and he began to return my feet to their reluctant ground, I realized I had forgotten to breathe. My legs trembled against the sudden gravity and he steadied me as I took in sharp breaths. He chuckled lightly and shook his head.
“What am I going to do with you?” he teased.
“With any hope, that, again.”
He took a slow step back and smirked, “I do enjoy sweeping you off your feet.”
My head was still spinning as I grabbed my bag from the truck and shut the door behind me. Edward took my right hand as we walked to class, my single rose in the left.
The rest of the day continued on and I was a happy bystander to the couples declaring their love for one another throughout the day. It seemed each period passed with another sudden delivery of roses, large teddy bears, or chocolates. Joyce Lowell in Government received a loud serenade from half of the school’s marching band, her boyfriend, Aaron, the faux-conductor. Each time the door to the classroom opened my heart skipped a beat with the fresh fear that Edward might have some embarrassing demonstration planned. I wasn’t eager to hurt his feelings and so I kept the question from him all day. I had cracked by fifth period when he finally asked, “Why is your heart is thrumming like a hummingbird’s?”
“I’m worried that you have a grand romantic gesture planned,” I took a sharp breath, anxious for his response. My heart rate only increased when he shrugged and walked ahead of me into the classroom.
I was at a loss for words when he chuckled. “Am I not allowed a grand gesture on Valentine’s Day?” Panic rushed through me before he continued in a more serious tone, “Do you honestly believe that my romantic displays are akin to those of someone like Mike Newton?”
His eyes glanced down at the trinkets gathered in my arms. I thought this tradition had been left in elementary school, but it seemed my friends still enjoyed giving each other Valentine’s treats. Jessica and Angela both had given me small paper crafts and chocolates to mark the occasion. Even Tyler and Eric participated, handing out boxes of tiny heart candies.
The only class Edward could not manage to work out to have with me our senior year was math – considering my being in a far lower level than was excusable for him to fail into. This, of course, was the only class I had exclusively with Mike. I had found it funny that it bothered Edward in the slightest; until today, when Mike seized the opportunity to give me a large stuffed bear, a rather huge box of chocolates, and a clearly handmade valentine. All platonically, Mike had assured me, as he was still on-and-off with Jessica and I was still very much Edward’s – only Edward’s.
I shook my head as I fumbled to stack all of my favors onto a pile on my desk, keeping the rose in my hand to tap lightly on the tip of Edward’s nose.
He tilted his brow at my playful gesture. “You have nothing to worry about. I simply have arranged for us to have a night alone. My family have their own Valentine’s Day traditions and we’ll have the house to ourselves. For this one night could we try to forget everything besides just you and me?” he pleaded, unleashing the full force of his eyes on me. “It seems like I can never get enough time like that. I need to be with you. Just you.”
“No,” I shook my head again. “Just you is good.”
The hitch in my tone caught his attention, but he didn’t have a chance to respond. Mr. Banner began lecturing on optics and light. I couldn’t focus on Physics; I could only hear Edward’s methodic voice repeating ‘I need to be with you’ again and again. Each passing thought brought a new blush to my cheeks that I tried to hide behind a curtain of my hair. I was sure he could hear my fluttering heart, but I couldn’t focus on that either. I was entirely clouded with thoughts of him. I stared at his strong hands, folded together in front of him on the table. How I imagined them on my body a million times, his cold fingertips grazing over my bare skin in the places he refused to wander. It was all I could think of the rest of the day.
When I was back in my room, a different blur of anxiety plagued me than when I had left it in the morning. Edward and I went our separate ways after school. He had filled me in on how exactly he had planned to handle the issue of Charlie. My father was still learning to trust me again and another night out of the house was certainly going to come under some heavy interrogation. I was technically still grounded even though Edward had been following Charlie’s very strict rules to a perfect degree. I was sure that Charlie hadn’t missed the fact that it was Valentine’s Day and I could only imagine the things he would think Edward and I would be doing if left alone. I was pressing the subject when Edward said, “Esme spoke with Charlie today and let him know that Carlisle is taking my brothers and I on a long-promised camping trip. You’ll be having a girls’ night with Esme, Alice, and Rosalie, as Charlie knows it. He’s been hoping you’d be spending more time with Alice soon.”
I felt a twinge of guilt for all the lying that had to be done to protect Charlie. This lie was much less to protect him from the perils of life threatening vampire attacks and much more about protecting him from the thought of his teenage daughter being alone with her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day. The guilt subsided when I remembered that I would get to be alone with Edward.
I stood in my room, hands steadying me on my dresser, knees shaking from the anticipation. The mix of emotions kept wracking me in waves. Edward had made it very clear; we could not be together physically until I was changed. My safety, was not something he was willing to jeopardize to satisfy any desire – which, to his credit, was entirely the reason I was alive. It was difficult to argue with Edward on that fact, but it was so incredibly difficult to argue with my own desires, still. And yet, I felt foolish all the same. I was so intensely human. Though he’d told me many times that he felt the same way for me, I knew he couldn’t possibly lust for me the way I did for him. I was able to reason that point logically, but part of me questioned it in this moment. Had he changed his mind?
I knew what was waiting for me at the Cullens’. It hadn’t been much more than a month since the last time I had genuinely spent the night there for a ‘girls’ night.’ Edward didn’t want me anywhere near Jacob and so Edward had been avoiding distant hunting trips to keep a close watch on me. Alice was all too eager to babysit to allow Edward a satiating hunt; it left me free to be played with as if I were her life-sized doll. That wasn’t what I was fixated on now. The image of the intricate wrought-iron bed burned in my mind. The thought of Edward and I wrapped tenderly in its golden threads made me quiver again, a sigh escaping my lips.
A knock at the front door made my heart stutter. I heard Charlie gather himself up off the couch to get the door. I stopped listening and only heard the light murmur of greetings as I rushed to find something appropriate to wear. What kind of outfit were you supposed to put together to seduce your vampire boyfriend? I was clashing hangers together across the pole, a bit frantic, when I heard her behind me.
Alice shook her head. “You look like you need to sit down. Let me handle this,” she said.
I decided it was better not to argue with her. I was, in all fairness, a mess, and there was only so much harm she could do with my own wardrobe to work with. She confidently pulled my small duffle from the top shelf of my closet and began packing things without truly looking at them. She had already seen what she would need.
I was sitting in my rocking chair when she looked back to me, still absently packing my bag. She looked like she was waiting for me to say something, but I swallowed uncomfortably rather than working up the nerve to talk.
She cast me a sympathetic smile as she removed something from my closet and tossed it toward me. “Try this,” she said.
I stood to change into the hyacinth blue sweater Alice had given it to me as a Christmas gift. Unlike many of the other fashion pieces Alice had tried to dress me in, I did like it. It was soft, probably a thin cashmere, with a plunging V neckline. It fit my frame tightly and was flattering in a way that I couldn’t justify being embarrassed by. She moved to my dresser then, digging through the very bottom drawer to pull out a short skirt she had also gifted me that I was not particularly fond of. Before I could argue, she slung it onto the bed.
“Work with me here, Bella,” she said sternly.
I pulled on the black skirt without a fight. Alice finished off my outfit with a pair of expensive black leather boots.
“And those were a gift from Esme, before you think of disputing them,” she lectured.
“No, I like them. At least they’re covering more of my skin,” I said, zipping them up.
Alice peaked her eyebrows, a smirk budding on her face as she closed my bag. I felt the rush of blood on my complexion again. “Alice – “
“Come on, let’s go before you lose it,” she said quickly, pulling my hand and leading me out of my room and down the stairs.
Charlie didn’t bother looking away from the television as we called a quick goodbye to him. Alice carried me through the slush in a movement so brief that I had no time to process it, placing me in the passenger seat of her small yellow Porsche. Forks blurred outside the windows and in the darkness of the car, it was easier for me to talk about what I was getting myself into.
“Does he…” I asked in her direction, not finishing the thought.
“I don’t think I should really say anything, Bella.” She answered, plainly.
“Since when do you keep things to yourself, Alice?”
She chuckled quietly, “Whatever I say now is not going to help. I’m just dropping you off. You’re not the only one with Valentine’s Day plans, you know.”
“That’s not fair,” I complained. “He’s seen whatever you’ve seen. He’s not going into this blind like I am.”
“Oh, yes he is,” she said proudly. “I’ve been careful to stay away from him today – and it’s not quite clear what’s going to happen. You’ve only been growing bolder in the last few hours.”
Bolder? I certainly didn’t feel it. In the light of the dashboard, I saw Alice turn to me as the car began to slow. We were already in the driveway. When the car stopped, I felt a quick breeze from the opening and closing of her door. She had slung my bag over her shoulder quickly before arriving at my door to help me to the porch steps. I doubted even Alice thought I was that uncoordinated to walk a few feet without falling; she was carrying me everywhere to keep the boots safe, I thought. She set me down on the porch and walked ahead of me into the house. I followed her in, confused.
“I thought you said you were just dropping me off?”
                  We were in the living room when she said, “I am. Edward isn’t here yet. He had an errand to run. He’ll be here soon and we’ll be gone – don’t worry.”
                  A fresh blush met my cheeks as I locked eyes with the another set in the room. Rosalie was perched on the edge of the sofa, bent over the coffee table arranging what looked like a large photo album. She had small papers and photos scattered all over the table, some in small piles on the floor beside her. She gazed up at me with the come-to-be-expected level of enthusiasm I generally received, but there was a hint of something else in her expression. It caught me by surprise and left me gawking at her silently. Rosalie’s appearance always struck me, but tonight she was especially beautiful. Her tight satin dress was just the perfect shade of red to compliment her equally satin skin, her golden hair a perfect, elegant twist, and her long bare legs crossed in front of her were only further elongated by her strappy, red stilettos. Alice had done her best with me, but I felt myself self-consciously tug at the hem of my skirt.
                  That inexplicable look that I had caught in Rosalie’s expression seemed to grow stronger as she gauged my assessment of her. A small smile crossed her lips as she looked back to what she was working on and I looked to Alice, who was dancing back down the stairs now. I hadn’t noticed her departure, but she was already redressed in an ensemble that mirrored the glamour of Rosalie’s. Alice bent one leg up behind her, fastening the tiny buckle on the strap of her heel, careful not to bend and crease the fabric on her burgundy slip-dress.
“Alright, Rose. Let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” Alice rolled her eyes at me quickly before Rosalie noticed. Alice had her keys in her tiny hands as she walked my direction to head for the door.
“I will see you tomorrow,” she said with a coy grin.
Rosalie was out the door faster than I could follow. I turned to Alice as she moved at a more mortal pace. “Where are you going?” I asked.
Alice waved as she replied, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bella!” The door was shut behind her then. I heard the muffled roar of her Porsche as she and Rosalie left me behind. I assumed that I was completely alone then. I was curious to know where they were going, but my mind was busy calculating other worries. I stood in the Cullens’ living room, taking in the sheer silence. The only sound was coming from the low burning fire still crackling dimly in the fireplace. I unlocked my tense limbs to move toward the heat. I stopped briefly to survey Rosalie’s project and flipped through a couple of pages on the bound album.
Were these all valentines? I picked up a few loose papers from the table and skimmed them quickly. It seemed that Rosalie had been collecting notes from her admirers for decades, compiling the highlights in an album with cards dating back to 1929. Some of the earlier letters were from when she was still human, if I wasn’t mistaken. A few authors were brave enough to sign their names, but most were anonymous confessions. I spent more time snooping through Rosalie’s valentines than I should have, but part of me thought that she must have wanted me to see them. Why else would she have left them all here?
I focused myself again and took a seat on the edge of the hearth.
                  I was glad I had a moment to gather myself and took the opportunity to take a few deep, but unsteady, breaths. Why was I so unnerved? I closed my eyes and tried to summon my buried fantasies of Edward. There I let myself imagine him, pulling me tightly to his chest, letting his lips roam my jaw, my neck, and the dips of my collarbones. What would he look like bare? I’d only been able to guess the parts of him that were always just beyond my reach. I let those thoughts in too, imagining my own fingers tracing patterns around the curves of his muscles. To bring him close to me, skin to skin – the thought alone painted my face in a soft blush. I bit my lip, letting go a full breath I had been holding. I opened my eyes then and immediately found him.
He was standing across the room from me, a statue of indescribable, sculpted beauty, leaning on the wall casually. He had a peaceful expression resting in his features, but his bright golden eyes were burning with something I couldn’t explain. My favorite crooked smile slowly crossed his lips as his eyes seemed to search my body. I blushed more deeply, a decision forming more firmly in my mind.
I loved him, purely, and every ounce of my body and soul ached to be his. It was exactly the reason I had asked him to change me himself. I wanted his venom to alter me permanently, his lips on my skin to be the last human sensation I’d ever feel. I wanted to be tangibly his, forever; for Edward to lay claim to me in an absolute and eternal way. If I was his, then he was mine. This desire burned in me more brightly in this moment than it ever had. But there were other human sensations I ached for now. And suddenly, I was sure I was not willing to sacrifice them.
Edward moved slowly across the room to perch in front of me. The height of the hearth and his tall body in a crouch before me, leveled us to be equally face-to-face. As he bent, he balanced a small, thin velvet box on my knees. I made no move to open it, so he chuckled lightly and opened it to reveal a small glittering heart-shaped charm. Even in the dim firelight, the brilliant crystal’s intricate cuts glinted countless sparkling rays of color. It was hung on a silver chain as thin as thread.
He was the first to break the silence.
“It was my mother’s.” He shrugged deprecatingly. “I inherited quite a few baubles like this. I’ve given some to Esme, Alice, and Rosalie throughout the years. So, clearly, this is not a big deal in any way.” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to stare down, not quite ready to speak. “A hand-me-down,” he reminded me sternly. “You said that was allowable.”
“I guess I did say that,” I said in a whisper.
He chuckled at my reluctance. “I thought it was a good representation,” he continued. “It’s hard and cold.” He laughed. “And it throws rainbows in the sunlight.”
“You forgot the most important similarity,” I murmured. “It’s beautiful.”
“My heart is just as silent,” he mused. “And it, too, is yours.”
I offered the box to him and moved to gather my hair away from my neck, turning to the fire. As he moved to clasp the chain around my neck, I said, “Thank you for both.”
His fingers seemed to linger on the skin of my throat as I turned back to face him. Our lips were only inches apart now. I moved my hands to wrap them around his neck.
“No, thank you. It’s a relief to have you accept a gift so easily. Good practice for you, too.” He grinned, flashing his teeth.                   His eyes wandered down to take pride in his accepted gift. I was grateful for the plunging neckline of my sweater when his gaze lingered where the crystal charm hung delicately above my chest. I made a mental note to thank Alice later and took a steadying breath. I began to feel cautiously optimistic. Perhaps getting what I wanted would not be as difficult as I’d expected it to be.
No, of course it was going to be just exactly that difficult. I cleared my throat lightly and braced myself. “Can we discuss something?” I asked. “I’d appreciate it if you could begin by being open-minded.”
He hesitated for a moment and returned his eyes to mine. “I’ll give it my best effort,” he agreed, cautious now. He unwrapped my arms from around his neck as he moved to put space between us.
“I’m not breaking any rules here,” I promised. “This is strictly about you and me.”
“Listen to your heart fly,” he murmured. “It’s fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings,” he repeated the analogy he had applied to me earlier in the day. “Are you all right?”
“I’m great,” I said formally. I wondered why I was being so formal.
“Please go on then,” he encouraged.
“Well, I guess, first, I wanted to talk to you about that whole ridiculous marriage condition.”
“It’s only ridiculous to you. What about it?” He was backing further away from me now.
I leaned closer to him, placing my hands on his knees to keep him near me. “I was wondering… is that open to negotiation?”
Edward frowned, serious now. “I’ve already made the largest concession by far and away – I’ve agreed to take your life against my better judgment. And that ought to entitle me to a few compromises on your part.”
“No.” I shook my head, focusing on keeping my face composed. “That part’s a done deal. We’re not discussing that now. I want to hammer out some other details.”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Which details do you mean exactly?”
I hesitated. “Let’s clarify your prerequisites first – matrimony?” I made it sound like a dirty word.
“Yes.” He smiled a wide smile. “To start with.”
The shock spoiled my carefully composed expression. “There’s more?”
“Well,” he said, his face calculating. “If you’re my wife, then what’s mine is yours… So there would be no issue with Dartmouth tuition.”
“Anything else? While you’re already being absurd?”
“Time. I’m finding it quite ephemeral… like it’s slipping through my fingers,” as he spoke, he rose his finger tips to sweep a gentle line over my exposed collarbones.
I shook my head, trying to forget his distracting touch. “No. No time. That’s a deal breaker.”
He sighed longingly. “Just a year or two?”
I refused to give into his burning amber eyes. “What else?”
“That’s it. Unless you’d like to talk cars…”
He grinned widely when I grimaced, then took my hand and began playing with my fingers. “I didn’t realize there was anything else you wanted besides being transformed into a monster yourself. I’m extremely curious.” His voice was low and soft. The slight edge would have been hard to detect if I hadn’t known it so well.
I paused, staring at his hand on mine. I still didn’t know how to begin. I felt his eyes watching me and I was afraid to look up. The blood began to burn in my face.
His cool hand cupped my cheek. “You’re blushing?” he asked in surprise. I kept my eyes down. “Please, Bella, the suspense is painful.”
I bit my lip.
“Bella.” His tone reproached me now, reminding me that it was hard for him when I kept my thoughts to myself.
“Edward,” I said, nervous, staring at a freckle on my wrist. “There’s something that I want to do before I’m not human anymore.”
He waited for me to continue. I didn’t. My face was hot.
“Whatever you want,” he encouraged, anxious and completely clueless.
“Do you promise?” I muttered, knowing my attempt to trap him with his words was not going to work. But he was unable to resist my coaxing.
“Yes,” he said. I looked up through my lashes to see that his eyes were earnest and confused. “Tell me what you want, and you can have it.”
I couldn’t believe how awkward and idiotic I felt. I was too innocent. I didn’t have the faintest idea how to be seductive. I would just have to settle for flushed and self-conscious.
“You,” I mumbled almost incoherently.
“I’m yours.” He smiled, still oblivious, trying to hold my gaze as I looked away again.
I took a deep breath and leaned closer to him, pressing my lips to his. He kissed me back, bewildered but willing, his lips gentle against mine. I began to slide my hands from his knees, up his thighs and slowly toward his waist. I hadn’t gotten very far when I all but heard the click in his head as he put together my words and my actions, his lips freezing in place.
He pushed me away at once, his face heavily disapproving.
“Be reasonable, Bella.”
“Edward, I –. “ He had cut me off, placing a single finger over my lips to quiet me.
“No.” His face was hard.
I was surprised by my reaction to his dismissal. I raised my hand to swat at his. My action didn’t move him, of course, but he moved his hand from my mouth in response. “You are not going to shush me,” I said sternly. “We’re here discussing terms of an eternity together – marriage and other promises – but sex?” I said the word louder than the rest. “Edward, why can’t we talk about sex?”
He was frozen there, hands at his side, eyes locked on mine. I felt the charge of adrenaline passing quicker than it had come. We sat there for a moment in silence with only my quick breathing and rapid pulse as audio. I shifted my gaze down as the rush subsided. It took me a minute to recognize why I was staring at my freckle again, the blush returning – why my stomach felt uneasy, why there was too much moisture in my eyes, why I suddenly wanted to run from the room.
Rejection washed through me, instinctive and strong.
I knew it was irrational. He’d been very clear on other occasions that my safety was the only factor. Yet I’d never made myself quite so vulnerable before. It was hard to beg for the mercy of an angel.
Edward moved then, bringing his hand up to my chin to pull my face up until I had to look at him again. He scrutinized my face for a long moment while I tried unsuccessfully to twist away from his gaze. His brow furrowed, and his expression became horrified as I continued to fight off the onslaught of water in my eyes.
His other hand rushed to my cheek, his thumb stroking there reassuringly. “You know why I have to say no,” he murmured. “You know that I want you, too.”
“Do you?” I whispered, my voice full of accusation and doubt.
He held my face at my jaw now, his fingers on my neck at the base of my hair. “Of course I do, you beautiful, oversensitive girl.” He laughed once, and then his voice was bleak. “Doesn’t everyone? I feel like there’s a line behind me, jockeying for position, waiting for me to make a big enough mistake… You’re too desirable for your own good.”
It seemed like he wanted to press on, anxiety flooding him as it had me throughout the day. I took a breath.
“Tell me if I have anything wrong,” I tried to sound detached. “Your demands are marriage, college, more time, and a faster car.”
“Only the first is a demand,” he said taking a breath. “The others are merely requests.”
“And my lone, solitary demand is – “
“Demand?” he interrupted, on edge again.
“Yes, demand.” I said confidently, looping my fingers around his wrists and tugging until he dropped them. I was not going to concede, now that I knew he wanted this as badly as I did. I would have to be brave for the both of us. I kept my gaze locked on his, placing a hand on his chest to request more space between us.
Edward immediately responded, backing up slightly and resting on his knees with room in front of him. Without breaking the contact we had, I slid down so that we were both on our knees. I brought both hands to the collar of his shirt and began to unbutton slowly, never moving my eyes from his.
“Please,” I begged. “There is nothing I want more than you.”
He took a deep breath. I was surprised that it sounded a little unsteady.
“I could kill you,” he whispered.
I had the last button undone then and slid the fabric from his shoulders to the floor. I was gliding my hands down his chest and placing my lips over his heart when I murmured against his skin. “I don’t think you could.”
As I kissed him there, a low sound escaped his lips. A moan? My body ached in a way it never had. I felt electrified. My heart jolted, words tumbling out of my mouth to take advantage of the sudden uncertainty in his eyes. “Please, try,” I pleaded.
His hands were wrapped around my biceps then, his head bent down to bring his lips to my ear, making me shiver. “This is unbearable. So many things I’ve wanted to give you – and this is what you demand. Do you have any idea how painful it is, refusing you when you plead with me this way?”
“Then don’t refuse,” I suggested breathlessly.
He didn’t respond. I tossed my head back to catch my breath, letting my hair fall down behind me. Edward’s hands still held my arms firmly. “Please,” I tried again.
He bent his head to my neck. “Bella…” He shook his head slowly, but it didn’t feel like denial as his face, his lips, moved back and forth across my throat. It felt more like surrender. My heart sputtered frantically when his lips finally stopped to embrace my skin. The same low sound spilled from my lips now, which seemed to hit Edward with the same electrical shock.
His grip tensed instantly and I was sure he was going to push me away again.
I was wrong.
His lips were on mine, his hands pulling me up to close the space between us. His mouth was not gentle; there was a brand-new edge of conflict and desperation in the way his lips moved. When his hands moved into my hair, I locked my arms around his neck, tightening my hold on him. To my suddenly overheated skin, his body felt colder than ever. I trembled, but it was not from the chill.
He didn’t stop kissing me. I was the one who had to break away, gasping for air. Even then his lips did not leave my skin, they just moved to my throat. So quickly that I wasn’t even sure how it happened, I was in his arms, his lips still exploring my skin, as we nearly flew through the house. Human velocity was not fast enough for him. We were in his bedroom then, still locked in each other’s arms as he fell onto his back on the bed.
The thrill of victory was a strange high; it made me feel powerful. Brave. My hands weren’t unsteady now and my fingers traced the patterns I had dreamed of a thousand times. He was too beautiful. What was the word he had used? Unbearable – that was it. His beauty was too much to bear…
I was on top of him, our lips pulled together again and moving in heated sync. Edward’s hands were exploring my body. His hands were tight around my waist, straining me closer to him. All I wanted was my skin to be bare against his – his grip made it difficult to reach to remove my sweater, but not impossible. Just as I had my stomach exposed, cold iron fetters locked around my wrists, and pulled my hands above my head, which was suddenly on a pillow.
His lips were at my ear again. “Bella,” he murmured, his voice warm and velvet. “Stop trying to take your clothes off.”
“Do you want to do that part?” I asked breathlessly.
“Not tonight,” he answered softly. His lips were slower now against my cheek and jaw, all the urgency gone.
“Edward, don’t –,” I started to argue, trying to free my hands and arching my body to mold myself more closely to him.
“I’m not saying no,” he reassured me. “I’m just saying not tonight.”
I had never felt frustration this way before. I was restless, eyes wild and questioning on his.
“I wasn’t born yesterday,” he laughed. “Out of the two of us, which do you think is more unwilling to give the other what they want? You just promised to marry me before you do any changing, but if I give in tonight, what guarantee do I have that you won’t go running off to Carlisle in the morning? I am – clearly – much less reluctant to give you what you want. Therefore… you first.”
I exhaled with a loud huff. “I have to marry you first?” I asked in disbelief.
“That’s the deal – take it or leave it. A compromise.” Edward pressed himself to me, urging me to accept his terms. His arms wrapped around me, and he began kissing me in a way that should be illegal. Too persuasive – it was duress, coercion. I tried to keep a clear head… and failed quickly and absolutely.
“How did this happen?” I moaned, and not in a good way. “I thought I was holding my own tonight – for once – and now, all of a sudden – “
“You’re engaged,” he finished.
“Edward, no.” I objected.
“Are you going back on your word?” he demanded. He pulled back to read my face. His expression was entertained. He was having fun.
I glared at him, trying to ignore the way his smile made my heart react.
“Are you?” he pressed.
“No,” I groaned. “No. I’m not. I just need time to think. I can’t think right now – give me some time to think.”
He kissed me again quickly. Another too persuasive kiss.
“Take all the time you need.”
He kissed me another time. “Do you get the feeling that everything is backward?” he laughed. “Traditionally, shouldn’t you be arguing my side, and I yours?”
“There isn’t much that’s traditional about you and me.”
Neither of us would surrender in this moment – that was clear. But there were compromises that were pending on the horizon. And, if nothing, I had this night to service my fantasies for awhile. I bit my lip and chuckled.
“I’m curious,” I sighed. “What exactly did you have planned for tonight?”
He didn’t answer. Instead he was up and out of the bed, a hand extended toward me.
I let out my last sigh of contest and threw my hands down on the bed to heave myself up. Edward laughed to himself as I slid to the edge of the bed and stood. I fidgeted in my sweater and straightened my skirt as I walked toward him. I took his hand and noticed him taking in my figure again.
I raised a brow. “Did you want to get back in bed?”
Edward chuckled again, shaking his head. “No, but please do remind me to thank Alice in the morning.”
I rolled my eyes as he led me from his bedroom and into the rest of our romantic evening alone.
PART TWO
 ____
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Twilight Saga world, which is trademarked by Stephenie Meyer and Little Brown Books. All characters referenced are owned by Stephenie Meyer, and I do not claim any ownership over them or the Twilight Saga. The story told here is of my own invention. This story is for entertainment only – fun – and is not part of the official story line. I am grateful to Stephenie Meyer for the creation of these characters and I in no way am profiting from the creation and publication of this story. Some lines are directly quoted from Meyer’s book, Eclipse, and I do not claim to own Meyer’s words.
References:
Meyer, Stephenie. Eclipse. Little, Brown, 2013.
Tennyson, Alfred Tennyson, and W. E. Williams. Tennyson: Poems. Penguin, 1985.
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adamwatchesmovies · 3 years
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Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)
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Atlantis: The Lost Empire looks great. It’s got rousing action. The character and vehicle designs are inspired. If only the characters and story were as well.
Set in 1914, Milo Thatch (voiced by Michael J. Fox) is a cartographer and linguist obsessed with the lost continent of Atlantis. Though everyone laughs him off, millionaire Preston B. Whitmore (John Mahoney) also believes in his theories. He hires Milo to lead a crew that will make the greatest discovery in 8,000 years.
Atlantis: The Lost Empire has the same problems as many sci-fi adventure films of the 2000s like Titan A.E. and Stargate. They start and end with the premise. Everything else was an afterthought. Our protagonist is the typical nerd. He’s a bookworm with little street smarts. He’s optimistic and good-hearted, completely useless in a fight outside the last act, and bound to get the girl. There’s nothing more to him but at least he never becomes annoying. That's the job of the supporting cast. Though varied in looks, genders, and races, most are merely a collection of quirks. Take the mission's geologist, Mole (Corey Burton). He's an anthropomorphic shovel. He digs in a burrow when he sleeps, spends all his free time talking and examining dirt, and screams in giddy excitement whenever someone mentions digging.
We find Atlantis populated by mysterious people who prove themselves no more lively. Their technology may have made them essentially immortal but they've got nothing to say and little to do. In fact, with the way the film ultimately plays out, most of the Atlanteans could have been omitted completely and you would've had a more interesting tale.
This brings me to the story. It’s not all bad, but it takes very few chances and fails to enchant on any level. You hope for a 20,000 leagues Under the Sea, Journey to the Center of the Earth, or Around the World in 80 Days. That's not what you get. The joy of discovery, the thrill of adventure, the mystery of the unknown, the monsters, floods, cave-ins, and camaraderie between the crew would've been enough. Instead, we get another tale of a money-grubbing villain looking to steal something valuable regardless of what the consequences might be. If you can’t figure out what Milo WILL do when he finally comes face-to-face with the civilization he’s been looking for his whole life, and how the people surrounding him will differ in their view, you probably haven’t seen many movies.
Also disappointing is Atlantis itself. It looks terrific. The language created for the film by Marc Okrand is convincing. What about the civilization, the people though? We learn Atlanteans live to be thousands of years old. What kind of technological developments has this allowed them to develop? What masterpieces have Atlantean artists perfected? None. From the prequel scenes to the moment Milo arrives, we see no new inventions or developments. Have these people been asleep for millennia? Is this why they've forgotten how to read ancient scripts and use the technology they had while on the surface?
The Jules Verne inspired story lends itself well to all sorts of amazing, visually distinct vehicles and architecture (courtesy of Mike Mignola’s distinct style). From the thrilling scene in which submarines escape a sea monster and the battle during the film’s climax, you can tell the animators put their all into it. The visuals are so good I’m not surprised Atlantis: The Lost Empire has gathered a large fan base.
Atlantis: The Lost Empire isn’t all bad. Among other things, the score by James Newton Howard is terrific. Directors Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise have neglected the basics, however. You’re left wanting so much more than this. It doesn't bode well for the direct-to-DVD follow-up, Atlantis: Milo’s Return that the original contains moments of brilliance but is ultimately forgettable. (On Blu-ray, August 3, 2015)
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