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edwardsdeathcabcd · 6 months

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what makes me actually boil with rage is the way it’s framed as though jacob & the cullens have an even rivalry and like, he hates them just as much as they hate him, but like… jacob is a lower class kid who lives on the rez, the cullens live in a plantation home on private property. jacob calling alice a leech is an insult, but alice calling him a mongrel calls into power and privilege, ya know. like am i supposed to honestly think jake making blonde jokes to rosalie (which is certainly sexist and uncalled for) is on the same level as her serving him food in a dog dish? him seeing the cullens as bloodsuckers and murderers is just like, incorrect and unfair, but them seeing him as uncivilized and over-aggressive has implications deeply rooted in the oppression of his people

#this post is not gonna be popular but i just had to say it #jacob black #the twilight saga #twilight #twilight blog #edward cullen #alice cullen #rosalie hale #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #bella swan #twilight renaissance #mine #jake

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nivtee · 11 months

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ HELP. jacob black

jacob black x gn!reader

sad and emotional ! suicide ! self harm ! pain ! jealousy !

you were always quiet, never asked for help.

it was almost ironic, really.

standing at the edge of the cliff, dressed in your nicest dress with your nails painted and makeup done. no doubt they'd take it all off when you were found - if you were found.

you couldn't help it, the ache in your chest easing slightly as you rubbed the silk of your dress between your fingers.

you had tried, of course you did, therapists and counselors, nothing ever helped the pain that sat in the back of your head. going to school on the reserve was okay, you had a few friends, but never did you think you'd be pushed to this point.

you felt it before he did, you think, the way you held your eyes against his and felt a tug in your chest, as though your centre of gravity changed. he'd gone through his changes, spending less time with you after getting sick and cutting his hair.

jacob black was one of your closest friends, and you'd loved him for years. you had no problem admitting it, you were sure he already knew, which is why he'd spent so much time away from you recently.

rubbing your hand over your arms, trying to protect yourself from the cold, all you felt was the goosebumps that littered between the scars travelling up your arm. they were red, irritated and scabbed over, fresh but now brand new.

you couldn't help it. after jake had come back from his week off school, and your eyes had pierced his own, he stopped speaking to you all together. every day felt like pain, as though your intestines were being torn out of your body and you couldn't stop it.

with your stomach open and your bodily functions failing, the only thing that distracted you was the constant burn of your blood running down your arms.

you were sure he knew, you'd sent him a text before you left and let him know what you were doing.

you were sick, in many ways. the cough rattling in your throat, your chest constricting with every breath, your lips dry and cracked. no doctors appointment or medication could fix this.

hearing a sudden chime from your phone, it had been the only one to distract your focus. quickly pulling yourself away from the edge of the cliff, you picked up your phone from the pile of your belongings.

as soon as you had, you dropped it, your body collapsing to the ground and a scream cutting through your throat. it was as though your energy left your body, as though you were helpless and stuck on the ground for someone to find and kill; like prey.

you pulled yourself towards the edge of the cliff, nails aching with the dirt, grime and sticks poking and prodding them. your pretty dress covered in mud and dirt, torn by rocks and scratches over your legs. you hadn't worn shoes, maybe you should have.

you didn't think about that, not as you pulled yourself over the edge, pummeling towards the water crashing against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff. you didn't think about the howls you heard, the wind rushing through your ears or the heartbeat that sounded in your chest.

all you thought about was the text you'd received, it had come from his phone but not from jake.

'he's with bella.'

#jacob black x reader #twilight saga #twilight x reader #✎dosiewrites #oneshot #twilight #bella swan #jake black #jacob x reader #twilight jacob black x reader #angst #jacob black angst #sad jacob black imagine #jacob black imagine #jacob black x you

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littlespidermonkey · 4 months

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I think in the universe where the Cullens aren't in Forks, Bella Swan takes a while to come out of her shell, but when she does, she's witty and passionate and smart as a whip, even if she's still quiet and reserved. She sits with Jessica Stanley, who demands the best of everyone, and tells her friends about her boyfriend down on the rez, who is sweet and caring and funny and good with his hands, who works for everything he's ever had.

After class, during a sleepover, Bella whispers to tell Angie and Jess about the night after prom, even though her father, loving and careless, worries about her only a normal amount and loves Jacob Black like his own. When she gets into Dartmouth--all by herself, through study sessions in garages and with Jessica and in Angela's house--she chooses to go to Stanford instead. She misses the heat and light on her skin, even after falling in love with the rain. Jessica comes with her; Angela and Eric go to U of Washington in Seattle instead, for education and journalism respectively.

Bella makes sure to call every week and then one day she drives down to Seattle and her boyfriend, warm like the sun she loves and at least twice as reliable, becomes her fiancé. The ring isn't especially big or ornate or pricey, but the way she smiles could trick anyone into thinking that it was. All of her friends, new and old, are waiting at the small party afterwards, and Bella laughs the entire time. The engagement cake--chocolate, her favourite--is sweet and moist against her tongue.

She moves back to Forks once she gets her masters in information sciences and becomes the town's librarian. She gets married a month before the move, barefoot in the surf and her old prom dress, both her parents weeping with joy and Billy Black beaming damn near as bright as his son, Sue Clearwater holding his hand.

She raises her kids --both beautiful children, blessed with Jake's thick, long hair--with Angela and Eric's and takes them down to Los Angeles to visit their auntie Jess and her husband Quil, who lavishes them with gifts from her career as a top surgeon. She jokes about having to support Quil's career as an environmental lawyer and displays each and every one of his wins alongside her diplomas. When William Black II decides he wants to be a doctor too, she writes him a shining letter of recommendation to her alma mater. Sarah, who has always been the spitting image of her father, joins and eventually takes over Jacob's mechanic shop.

On occasion, Bella fights with Jacob, even though he's the love of her life. Despite this, she is never afraid of him, and he never stops her from doing what she wants. Instead, he goes out and works on his cars and comes back in an hour later with slightly greasy hands and a bouquet of flowers from Emily Young's little garden, planted to celebrate her cousin Leah Uley's wedding. Bella makes him muffins, recipe courtesy of Sue and missing bites courtesy of Seth, Colin, Sarah, Will, and Claire, with raspberries, not blueberries, just how Jake likes them. They make up, and they make changes, and they go on.

Eventually, both slower and quicker than she realizes, Bella gets old. She lives in fear of losing herself, of losing her husband and her children, like her grandmother had. But she remembers her grandkids to the very end, even gets to meet her first great-grandchild a week before it happens. Her heart gives out before her brain does, too weak and too slow.

It was too full of love, the letter from Jacob says. Sarah reads it. Her father passed a day after his wife--simply too heartbroken to live without her. Much of the town of Forks and hordes of family attend their funeral, remembering a life well lived.

It is an unremarkable life, in the grand scheme of things. She does not live to be a thousand; she is no great beast, with speed like the wind and strength; she does not discover her powers or lead a great defiance. Bella Black, happy and human and surrounded by love, could never imagine wanting anything else.

#lee's wild scribbles #team jacob #twilight saga #jacob x bella #swanblack #tw: food #OK! that's all the tags for searching so now it's time for the really important tags: me rambling #this was extremely stream of consciousness pls be nice #it was also supposed to come with a lil video like my other little ficlet for this fandom but tumblr wasn't feeling it #also i have not edited this and i'm not going to so if you see a typo you keep that shit to yourself #this was written kind of as a reflection on how bella lowkey chooses to sacrifice so much of what makes life good to me in favour of edward #and how she like. gives up her personhood and future to be his and has no friends outside of the cullens and jake #(who is essentially being held hostage by reenactment)#twilight has such a weird relationship with f3minism. i should write about that at some point #(also this is not tikt0k. i censor words so that they don't turn up in tags bc i doubt ppl in the f3minism tag are looking for twilight fic

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juicyc0utur3 · 4 months

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I was thinking about Johnnie being an a vampire lately 🤭🤭 like imagine how sexy that’d be

he literally already is a vampire LMAO

but omg i agree

who needs stinky edward cullen from twilight when you have johnnie guilbert

#johnnie guilbert #emo bf #emo boy #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert fluff #vampire #vampcore #edward cullen #i hate edward cullen tbh #this is the skin of a killer bella

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bubblessunshinehoney · 2 years

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KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 2022

Welcome to kinktober 2022..

A/N: hey guys, i have to repost all of my 18 days of Kinktober for now. Because my account got suspended last night. Many of you might have read them already, and maybe many more of you might read it for the first time. I'm not someone who asks for reblogs, likes are find by me. But for this one time...i would be very grateful if you could reblog it. To help me go back in the game. I'm sad that i lost all my works. But so grateful i wrote them on Word... Or i would have lost literally months of prepration.

So yeah, Hi again, i'm back, hopping to get back my first account.

Enjoy

👻- This year me and the gorgeous @chrisdrysdale will be hosting a double stuffed kinktober

👻- Each day for October, Bella and I will be posting 1 small fic with a kink and character

👻- We can’t wait for you to read them! 🖤

1. Threesome with S.S and C.E

❤️cloudy 🖤 bella

2. Butt plug with Sub!Bucky Barnes

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

3. Overstimulation with Ransom Drysdale

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

4. Drunk sex with Mickey Henry

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

5. Dom/sub with Frank Adler

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

6. Anal with Ari Levinson

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

7. Cockwarming with Steve Rogers

❤️ cloudy 🖤bella

8. Breeding kink with Andy Barber

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

9. Exhibitionism with Rockstar!Bucky

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

10. Edging with Colin Shea

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

11. After care with Sub!Steve Rogers

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

12. Orgasm control with Lloyd Hansen

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

13. Free use with Ransom Drysdale

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

14. Housewife with Steve Kemp

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

15. Squirting with Frank (e.b)

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

16. Spanking with Bucky Barnes

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

17. Marking with Steve Rogers

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

18. Handcuffs with Lance Tucker

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

19. Lingerie with Andy Barber

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

20. mirror sex with Ari

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

21. Clothed sex with Jake Jensen

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

22. Collars with Bucky Barnes

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

23. Oral sex with Chris Beck

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

24. Pegging with Chris Evans

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

25. Lactation with Sub!Andy Barber

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

26. Role play with Steve Kemp

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

27. Hickeys and biting with Sebastian Stan

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

28. Virginity taking with Jake Jensen

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

29. Nipple play with Collin Shea

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

30. Riding with Nick Fowler

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

31. Cock cages with Bucky Barnes

❤️ cloudy 🖤 bella

@navybrat817 @christywantspizza @buckyalpine @iloveprettyboysblog @ethreal-love @nailedbymandy

@captainsimagines

@buckybarnesandmarvel @rogersandlightwood @sparkledfirecracker @barneswinterraven @hansensgirl @blades-and-heartbreak @runa-falls @chrisdrysdale

i know, i'm asking a lot of you guys, but a little signal boost or reblog would mean the world to me <3 lots of love to all of you beautiful people !

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thundahouse · 2 years

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actual oc art ???

#me ocs #mouth's apocalypse #jake #bella #nicolas

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twilitty · 2 years

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By The Moon

by: @twilitty

Chapter 11: Bake Sale

word count: 3.8k

I eventually end up asking Charlie about having Jessica and Angela over for baking, as well as various other “girls’ night” activities. I don’t specify which activities, not because I’m being evasive but because I’m not sure what the activities are. He agrees and promises me he will be busy and out of the house. He doesn’t elaborate any further, so I don’t pry. We say our good nights, him seated in front of the television and me heading up the stairs.

I make it to my room and quickly prepare my pyjamas in my arms before going into the bathroom and turning on the shower. The scalding heat of the water is welcome and comforting in a way that I can’t entirely explain. It burns away thoughts of this evening, of my mild freak-out in the kitchen. Of how Jacob had to hold me on the porch.

The way he just wrapped his arms around me, just held me so tight, something about that felt natural. I’m not sure if it was natural for him or for me or for both of us, but it felt like something that would’ve happened regardless of the smoke or the alarms. Somehow, I would’ve ended up being held by Jacob Black, but not romantically.

Maybe that’s the message of the evening for me. Maybe some greater being is at work here, and it’s telling me that Jacob Black is my friend and nothing more. Never anything more. He held me like he’d hold a friend, there was nothing else happening.

I mean, of course, it was completely platonic. Had he ever done anything to indicate he saw me in any other way? No. He’s a good person. He’s nice and sweet and funny and comfortable, I shouldn’t go applying my own juvenile daydreams to the situation.

Besides, it’s not as if I see him in any way other than platonic. Not consciously, at least.

Sure, sometimes when I think of him, I focus on very not-friend-like traits. Like his chest or his shoulders or his wide smile. Or how kind he is to me, how he has somehow just accepted our friendship from childhood as still applying today.

I scrub at my skin, a little harder than necessary, to try and banish any further thoughts about Jacob Black. I scrub and scrub and scrub until my skin is pink and new. Until I finally feel clean.

Stepping out of the shower I quickly start thinking about which book to read next. I finished my last book just a couple of days ago, a reread of Sense and Sensibility. I dry myself off, then dress in pyjamas and go about my nighttime routine.

I could do another reread of some classic. Perhaps The Picture of Dorian Gray? I had never finished the entire book, had only gotten fifteen pages into it three years ago before abandoning it for something else. Or I could read something new.

I don’t have any new books in my room, but I’m sure I could pick something up from the store during my next shift. I’m still not sure about when that is. Mr. Webber is still in the process of adding me to the schedule, which is just an online calendar with names filled in the boxes beside time slots. He promised I’d know by the end of the week, and I was too shy to ask whether he meant Friday or Sunday. Did he mean the end of the work week or just simply the end of the week? Regardless, I’d find out soon enough.

I make my way into my room, safe from thoughts of a certain someone, and pick up the first book my fingers touch. I take it to bed and crawl under the covers, but not before closing the blinds.

Since having that nightmare of a dream, looking over at the forest is something I don’t want to partake in. Ever.

I’m halfway through the first chapter when there’s a knock on my door. “Yeah?” I close the book, sliding an old receipt in as a bookmark.

Charlie steps into the room, still dressed in jeans and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Uh, I’m going to hit the store sometime tomorrow. So, if you want to leave a list of ingredients you girls will need for the baking stuff then I can pick it all up.”

I stop moving for a moment, and it seems like he suddenly can’t meet my eyes. “Oh.” He looks up at me now, my voice a little scratchy and higher pitched than I’d like it to be. “Thank you, dad. I really appreciate it.”

He mumbles something unintelligibly under his breath and nods his head briskly a couple of times. It’s clear I acquired my social quirks from his side of the family. “Yes, well…” He gives me a tight-lipped smile before slowly closing the door. “Good night.” The door clicks shut.

I don’t hear his footsteps and quickly call out, “Night!”

He walks away from my door and a smile seems to spread across my face of its own will.

I leave a list for Charlie on the kitchen counter, along with a thank you at the bottom. I included the basics: eggs, cream, baking powder, and flour. Everything else we either already have or I don’t know we need yet.

I then take a few minutes to clear the area of anything that shouldn’t be there. I load the dishwasher, start it, and then hand wash a few plastics and pans that we might need for tonight.

I still have a couple minutes before needing to leave for school, so I quickly run back up into my bedroom and tidy up anything that is obviously out of place. I stack my books appropriately on my dresser, throw a pair of socks in the laundry basket, and smooth out my duvet one last time. There, I think contently, now I can leave.

I lock the door behind me, dash into my truck, and start the engine all within a matter of seconds. That level of speed and efficiency is an accomplishment. In the past, I’ve tripped down the porch steps, stumbled over loose gravel, and dropped my keys down between the heavy pot and the house. It would take me half a minute to move the stupid pot, which weighs nearly thirty pounds and seems to be made from weighted concrete.

Today, though, I am in the truck without any issues, and it feels like a good omen for the rest of my day.

I make the drive to school in record time, which is nothing to celebrate. Forks residents claim to have traffic on the highway and main streets, but I’ve never encountered it. Maybe we just have different definitions of traffic, in the same way, that we apparently have different definitions of beaches.

I pull in next to Fran the Van, which is packed to the point of overflowing with my friends. Jessica is sitting in the passenger seat, her knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her shins. She’s in a short sleeve violet blouse, her hair curled and a little frizzy around her shoulders. All in all, dressed inappropriately for the weather.

“Jess,” I say, stepping out of my truck and leaning against it. My backpack sits on the ground by my feet. She looks over at me, a serene smile outlined by glossy lips. “You do realize it’s barely April, right?”

“April is spring,” She retorts not unkindly. Her serene smile is now a disapproving frown. “Spring means short sleeves and sun.” We both look up at the sky, which is decidedly not sunny. “Okay, well, it’s still early spring and that means short sleeves.” I don’t say anything for a moment, and she rolls her eyes. “Bella, I swear, you are so out of touch.”

Mike closes his eyes dramatically from inside the van, shaking his head at me to communicate that it’s okay if I’m out of touch. Mike seems more awake than he usually is at this hour, which is to say that he’s all smiles and laughing jokes with those inside the vehicle. I question whether the weather, which is barely a degree warmer than it was yesterday, has infected the good students of Forks high school with something.

How can they all call this weather, grey and dreary, spring weather? This is a warm winter if anything.

I spot Angela, already walking towards the scattering of buildings and pick up my backpack to follow her. I’d like to discuss the girl’s night tonight with her before I include Jessica in the conversation. Angela seems more down-to-earth, more understanding of my apparent lack of social experiences.

I catch up to her, walking at a fast pace but not jogging. Jogging would likely result in me face down on the pavement and requiring concussion protocol. Angela looks over at me, her auburn hair pulled up into a ponytail and her eyes outlined with mascara. Her eyelashes are much longer than I recall them being, and the dark makeup on them only brings out the hazel of her eyes.

“You look pretty,” I tell her. She ducks her head and mumbles a thank you, a clear indication that she looks particularly put together for a reason today. I open my mouth to question it, but as she looks over her shoulder I quickly see the reason for her mascara and shyness. Ben Cheney is exiting a shiny silver vehicle and appears to be the only other person dressed sensibly today. He’s wearing a large hoodie and a loose pair of trousers. “Ah,” I look back to my friend who quickly picks up the speed. As though she’s racing away from him.

“Don’t say ‘ah’,” she criticizes lightly, shooting me a dark look out of the corner of her eye.

“Sorry, what noise would you rather I make?” I giggle at her scowl, which quickly parts to a close-lipped smile. “Are you avoiding him or what’s happening?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replies quickly. She’s an awful liar.

“Angela Webber, you basically ran away when you saw him.”

“Only my mom calls me by my full name,” she says.

“If you give me your middle name then I can give you the true motherly experience.” This causes her to laugh, which I appreciate.

“Okay, fine, it’s Francis.”

“Francis?” I pause, looking over at my friend with fresh eyes. “Your full name is Angela Francis Webber?”

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s a perfectly normal middle name.” A sniff of displeasure, then, “It was my great grandmother's name.” I don’t say anything, just work to conceal the smile and subsequent laugh trying to surface. “Oh, please!” She throws her hands up exasperatedly. “Fine, what’s your middle name?”

“Marie,” I answer automatically. The smile I’ve been hiding breaks through, and Angela Francis Webber rolls her eyes at me. I laugh at the thought of her full name; she does not appreciate it.

“Of course, someone with the middle name ‘Marie’ will dislike Francis.” She picks up the pace, walking at almost a full jog. I work to keep up with her, which is futile because her long legs propel her at Olympic speeds.

“Angela!” I call out to her, and she barely spares me a glance over her shoulder before taking a tight turn around the first building. I swear I can hear her laughing as she leaves me in her dust.

“Trouble in paradise?” I nearly jump out of my skin at the voice behind me, which causes the teenage boy responsible to laugh at an obnoxious volume.

“Jesus, Eric,” I mutter, throwing him a look as I take a deep breath and try to calm my nervous system. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, just heard that you guys are planning something tonight and thought I might get an invite?” He gives me his brightest smile, even going so far as to clasp his hands under his chin like a poor commoner boy asking for another bowl of soup.

“It’s a girl’s night, so girls only.”

He exhales heavily, laying on the guilt trip as he drops his hands to his pockets. “I hate being excluded,” he whispers in an obviously unhappy voice.

“You aren’t being excluded,” I tell him. I try to remain assertive, even as he pouts.

“I also hate being ostracized.”

“You aren’t being ostracized.”

Jessica and Angela arrive together in Jessica’s car. My initial excitement over having an opportunity to hang out with my friends outside of school is overridden by the large bag hanging over Jessica’s arm. Oh, yikes.

I step out onto the front porch, my arms dangling uselessly by my sides. The horror of what could be in Jessica’s bag occupies my mind. Alcohol? Charlie is a progressive man; he understands the tendencies of the younger generation. But still. He’s a cop and cops typically are not fans of underage drinking.

Stop overthinking everything, Bella. My inner voice does little to quiet the steady stream of anxiety coursing through my mind.

“Hey!” Jessica skips the middle stair and all but leaps onto the porch. I hear no incriminating noises coming from the bag, no sounds of glass bottles clinking together. Good.

“Jess, want me to take that?” I offer, already moving to remove it from her arm. She nods gratefully and hands it over. It’s surprisingly light for such a large bag and again my interests are piqued.

Angela follows up the porch, a backpack over her shoulder and a couple bags of chips in her arms. I greet her with a friendly expression that she reciprocates.

Inside the house, we drop the bags onto the floor in the living room, which I made sure to tidy up long before anybody arrived. I notice my friends’ eyes wandering a little more than I had anticipated, their focus quickly drawn to a series of my school photos on the mantle. They approach the framed photos quickly as if they might miss them by walking too slowly.

“You guys better not bully me about my middle school years,” I warn. Jessica giggles in response and points to one of the photos.

“I like your smile in this one,” she says with a bit too much of a laugh behind her words. “It’s very-”

Angela smacks her arm before she can finish talking. “Jess, I have half a mind to kick you out of here on Bella’s behalf.” Laughter descends upon the group, which seems to call Charlie out of his hiding spot from upstairs.

His footsteps are softer than usual, which hints at his nervousness. “Jessica Stanley and Angela Webber,” he says from the foot of the stairs. Both of my friends turn quickly and put on their best smiles for my father. I feel a swell of pride somewhere inside me, but I’m not entirely sure why. Is it because of my polite, kind friends? Is it because of my dad who knows my friends’ names? Or maybe it’s a pride for me, for going out of my comfort zone and inviting people over.

“Hello, Chief Swan,” Angela says, stepping forward and extending a hand to shake my fathers. He shakes it and shoots a grin at the group of us.

“Call me Charlie, there’s no badge on my chest today.” Then, with a wink in my direction he says, “I’m Bella’s dad today and nothing else.”

“Well, thanks for letting us come over. We really appreciate it.” Angela nods along with Jessica as the brunette talks. A soft blush settles over my father’s cheeks and the prideful feeling in my chest swells again.

Something about this moment feels so right as if I was meant to be standing here in my father's living room with my two new friends waiting to bake for some fundraiser. It’s as if every moment of my life has pushed me toward this place. As if everything happening right now is meant to happen.

I’m not one to believe in fate or some cosmic force controlling our lives, but in the second I might believe just a little bit. As my first two girl friends laugh with my dad. My dad is trying so hard to give off a good impression, to make this a great night for me. I wonder if he knows this is my first true girls’ night. I wonder if that’s why he keeps looking at me with such a large smile.

“I’m going to run out and meet with some guys down on the Rez. You girls need anything before I leave?”

“I think we’re good, dad, but thank you.” He says goodbye and pulls a jacket over his shoulders. A minute later I hear his cruiser start up and drive away.

“Okay, so I brought supplies,” Jessica announces, quickly producing a portable speaker from the top of her large bag. “Bur first,” she taps a button on the top of the machine and music fills the room. “Music!”

The music shifts over the evening, going from house to pop to some indie/country mixture that Angela puts on. By the time it’s my turn to pick a playlist I’ve already decided on my choice. Classic rock. It produces a couple surprised looks from my friends, but they seem pleasantly surprised.

“I should’ve expected this,” Jessica admits, looking over her shoulder at Angela as she pulls a tray of cookies from the oven. She then pulls out two more trays of assorted baked goods.

“Expected what?” I ask a little critically. Angela closes the oven with a thud and laughs lightly to herself. “Expected what?” I repeat.

Jessica looks back at Angela meaningful, building up the suspense. If she’s good at anything it’s leaving a woman in anticipation. Just as I’m about to repeat myself for a third time she raises a hand to stop me.

“I just mean, doesn’t your friend like rock?” She giggles at the word friend as if there’s something significant about the word.

“Who? Eric?”

Angela comes over and pats me on the shoulder sympathetically before leaning against the kitchen table with me. “She’s talking about a different friend. Who doesn’t live in town.”

I turn back to Jess. “Are you talking about Jacob Black?”

The only answer I get is a chorus of giggles and then an apologetic look from Angela. I cover my face with my hands, the blush creeping up my neck and into my face more than humiliating. Not to mention that the offending blush is also as good of a confession as anything. “Guys,” I groan out from behind my fingers.

“Aw, come on, Bella. You can talk to us about anything.” Jessica takes a moment to sip from her sparkling water. “Or about anyone.” I groan again.

“We are just friends,” I say finally, removing my hands from my face. I keep my eyes down towards the ground. “And I mean that. Just friends.”

“That’s what most people who aren’t ‘just friends’ say,” Jess quips. Angela remains decidedly silent and when I look over at her I see she’s furiously stirring batter with a wooden spoon. Jessica follows my line of sight. “Angela, you’re going to murder that mix if you keep up with that pace.” Angela slows her movements but only slightly.

She looks up from the large bowl to meet my eyes and offers me a reproachful look. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to,” she tells me. It’s an offer I appreciate but shake my head.

“No, it’s fine. We can talk about Jake.” I take a deep breath. “But we really are just friends.”

“You sound disappointed,” Angela says. My stomach tightens a little, whether in denial or an admission of guilt I’m not sure.

“No, just upset with myself, I think.”

“Because you like him?” Jess confirms. I nod. “Okay, so does he like you? Does he act like he likes you?”

“How do you act like you like someone?” I feel like it’s a dumb question for me to ask because Jessica goes a little quiet. “I’ve never really had this situation before, so I’m not sure.”

“Does he, like, touch you more than necessary?” I think of my hand in his, of him wrapping his large arms around me in a bear hug. Jessica grins at something on my face and I work to put back on my mask of neutrality. “Based on that expression, I think he might like you.”

“You can’t know that,” I argue, but my traitorous brain has already run wild with the thought and I can’t slow down. Suddenly every touch, every moment of eye contact, and every word passed between us feels significant. Feels monumental. Feels like it means something more than just friends.

“Okay, fine, maybe I don’t know that. But what do you want me to say? That I have no idea? That’s so incredibly anticlimactic.” Then, after a pause of her watching my face she says, “Besides, if he did like you what would you do about it?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Would you ask him out?” Angela asks, piping up for the first time in a few minutes. She’s moved from the mixing bowl to pouring the batter into little muffin holders. “Or kiss him maybe?”

“No, no, I wouldn’t.” The words bubble to the surface quickly, too quickly. Why was that my first response? Because I don’t want to kiss Jake? Yeah, right. I’ve thought of that scenario too many times to be healthy. Maybe it’s her first suggestion. Is it that I don’t want to ask him out? Or have us as being more than platonic? “I barely even know him,” I add on a little quieter. Jess has moved on to icing now cooled cupcakes, but Angela is still listening.

“Maybe get to know him better, then?” She suggests. “He’s really attractive, I’m sure he’s got a great personality to match.”

The blush creeps back up my neck. “Yeah, he’s really nice.”

“Swan!” Jessica yells out a little too loudly for the small room. “Paper towel, STAT!”

Angela giggles at our friend, who has icing dripping down her forearms. She catches us watching and shoots a glare. “I said STAT! Does that not mean anything to you people?”

“I guess we’re roleplaying a hospital now,” I joke. Angela laughs and produces a napkin for Jessica. The conversation twists and turns and we wind up back on Angelina Jolie like it usually does when Jessica is involved. I’m happy to talk all about her cheekbones because it keeps my mind away from someone else’s.

Last Chapter

Next Chapter (coming soon…)

Fic Content Masterlist

taglist: @the-wolf-moon-diaries @edwardsshinyvolvo @unorganisedbookshelf @dot-the-js-and-cross-the-fs @papytonsucks @banditnoo @xy05m @bluetreecloud20 @sethclearwatermybeloved @plainjaniedee @imwiththevampires

#twilitty fic #twilight #twilitty #bella swan #twilight saga #the twilight saga #twilight renaissance #Jacob black #Jake/Bella #Bella/Jake #Jacob/Bella #Bella/jacob #Jacob x Bella #Bella x jacob #jakella #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #mine

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timetravellingshinigami · 8 months

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The "mentally unstable urge" to rewatch Avatar 1 & 2 and Twilight Saga back to back just to feel something.

#core memory #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #the twilight saga #jake sully #neytiri #edward cullen #bella swan #the volturi #avatar recoms #aro volturi #the romanian coven #miles quaritch #caius volturi

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hope-ur-ok · 2 months

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someone should honestly take my computer away when I didn't sleep cause like I am alternating between reading Embry/Bella twilight fanfiction and scrolling my dash sending asks and being annoying, and it's not even 8am so I know this is gonna crash soon

#the turtle speaks #also embry/bella is the second best wolf pack bella ship behind leah/bella and I can not be persuaded otherwise (jake/bella is 3rd)

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blimbo-buddy · 10 months

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I know it's common for people to make human warriors aus where they give them actual names but I really like keeping their names because it's funny, specifically the kittypets/loners. Yeah dude, that mexican man down the street was named Smudge when he was born, why do you ask

#blimbo rambles #even better with the fact that some of the names the kittypets have are legitimate names #hattie princess ruby quince jake oliver henry millie sasha bella benny billy bob chester cody #then you got the ones named shit like gremlin or snooky or tiny

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evilbubu · 4 months

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who the hell told Jacob to cut his hair??? he was so much prettier and cuter with his long luscious princess hair!!! I'M SICK TO MY STOMACH WAASRRDGGHHH 😭😭😭😭

#Jacob black #jake #twilight jacob #twilight #twilight saga #twilight movies #bella Swan #Edward Cullen #Charlie Swan #edward cullen #alice cullen #carlisle cullen

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