#!!!1 his name is Phil

[mechanicalinfection]

fantasy springtrap my beloved

#art #digital art #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #springtrap #the mechanic's crafts #doodle #i don't think hes a william afton #yeahg hes just an olfd man #!!!1 his name is Phil #i love him #i love phil #we love phil #mwah kith !!! #fantasy #fnaf au

[47-protons]

many thoughts head full yet so devastatingly empty (< my brain is going about a billion miles per hour and i cannot slow it down enough to put any of the thoughts into any type of coherent statement) ((it is flicking wildly back and forth between q/smp and usmp. like if you took a metronome and set it to like a billion BPM.))

I have never frantically edited a post faster to put a slash between four letters

#hi i'm listening to winter's come and gone and i'm being Normal about it #''little black bird on my wire line. dark as troubles in this heart of mine.'' #and my brain is shoving Winter's Come and Gone. The Blackest Crow. and Foreign Lander. it's shoving all of them in a blender and i am havin #am having MANY thouhgts. absolutely brain rattlers. #the blackest crow that ever did flew would surely turn to white if ever i prove false to you bright day would turn to night #bright day would turn to night my love the elements would mourn if ever i proved false to you the seas would rage and burn #i lie awake out in the night. i see the shining stars. i wonder if you see them too wherever you are. #i'm normal. :+1: #i wish my breast were made of glass wherein you might behold upon my heart your name lies wrote in letters made of gold #in letters made of gold my love believe me when i say you are the darling of my heart. until my dying day. #Goes into Flick's character playlist. whacks apocalypse lullaby in there at mach 4 #my brain is Rattling with everything from sp/iderbit to phil to forever to flick and usmp s2 brainrot (< again) #i am Extremely abnormal about the end of s2 #more accurately. i am going through my playlist of chill folk/bluegrass tunes bc i have been having Feelings about. smth I will probably #never say out loud. i like the russian girl thing on like. tiktok and instagram. it is interesting and neat #to learn about other people's cultures- even if specifically it's about them feeling disconnected from theirs. #there is a rotting in my chest. there is no culture here. i don't think the US as a whole can go ''aha this is the american culture'' what #work until you die. never get healthcare. have every other country hate you. that's fair. #i am sitting with the bluegrass songs my grandma would sing me to sleep with when i was a baby and i am being normal #it took me two years before i could listen to Ashoken Farewell without bawling. they played that at her funeral. specifically my cousin #got up and played it. I'm normal. i'm so normal about this. culture can be school shootings and rampant capitalism but it can also be. banj #banjo and fiddle. i want to go to the bluegrass festival this year. i think it will be good for me. #america on the whole. probably does not have a unified cultural identity. and i guess that's okay #i'll align myself out towards the oklahoman panhandle and all the goatheads i got as a kid. i never saw the problem with quacki/ty's bedroo #i liked the rock walls. it reminded me of my grandma's house. she had a dugout. i miss it (< lost it in a wildfire a year after she died) #it wasn't like. a sod house. it was entirely underground though for Years until they had my uncle aaron and needed an extra room so then th #they got a Single upstairs room. The stairs were back by the cellar. i miss it. my mom would tell stories of the bus dropping her off and #classmates telling her ''there's a cow on your roof'' #i miss it. i should go to sleep i think #i don't think i've ever felt 'american' but i sure have felt 'kansan' and that's. okay enough for me i think

[redridcr]

"And why should I plead on your behalf?"

"Because you will have our support in an event of change in... circumstances."

"I do not understand. What circumstances?"

"If you brother was no longer king."

#muse;[philippe] #rewatching season 1 and thinking hard about me forgetting this scene but this is pretty much was happens to phil in dragon age / red rider #the older brothers personal army willing to support the youngest in family name and rank #also can we talk about philippe trying to stay a statue in this conversation but #his eyes are watering #the older men he led in battle for his older brother are coming to _philippe_ for help as builders who are overworked and underpaid and #dying on sight #they trust philippe and??

[all-that-glitters-is-goldfish]

the asks and posts you post scare me and amaze me and make my day, <3 i wish i could live in your brain it seems so entertaining

Thank you!

My brain cells would love to have you stop by!

Most of them have been fried from marijuana but I'm sure there's a few still kicking!

#morgan answers #there is 1 brain cell left and his name is Phil

[moltengoldveins]

ok but I have Thoughts about the way Minecraft usernames translate to actual names, both irl and in fanfic. They’re definitely ‘obsessed with structure and grumpy at inconsistency flavor autism’ thoughts but still. I find it weird how we cut and paste the media we’re given to fit what we view as functional worldbuilding, and how that gets screwy when translating online names.

like, you’re working with several categories here. The person’s actual real name, their irl nickname, their gamer tag, a name possibly contained by or possibly the entirety of that gamer tag, and any extra pieces or symbols in the gamer tag. And you have the weird situation where those categories might not easily translate to a ‘First Name Last Name’ structure. For an example, we’ve got Phil Watson, who’s gamer tag is ‘Ph1LzA,’ and is called Philza Minecraft or Philza. The ‘Minecraft last name’ is a…. Bit? A joke? A reference to a bit of lore? It’s unclear. The ‘Za’ bit was put there for flair and is now an integral part of his name. Sometimes it’s his last name. Sometimes his real last name is chucked in there. the 1 in his actual username is literally never referenced in nicknames or fic it’s like it’s not even there. But that’s a simple one. What about Tubbo_? because we call him Tubbo Underscore. Like. We say the ‘_’ aloud. Why do we do that. What has possessed us to make that decision? What about FitMC? I’ve usually heard it said ‘Fit Emsee.’ Why say that, and not say ‘Minecraft? That’s not even really a last name, it’s just like…. His full first name. Fit is used more like a shortened nickname. BadBoyHalo. Like. ‘Bad boy’ is a slang term, not a name. It would make the most sense to call him Halo, that’s the distinct noun in the name, the term the ‘bad boy’ bit is referring to. Like ‘GoodTimesWithScar’ but noooo. Bad. Halo is usually a last name, if it’s there at all. Skeppy on the other hand is… just his name. No last name ever. Technoblade is also weird. Technoblade is his full name. We call him that. We ALSO call him ‘Techno,’ and use Blade as a last name. We also use Blade as a title. What the heck. GeminiTay. We call her Gem. We use Tay as a last name sometimes. Her name is a Zodiac constellation. Literally nowhere I’m have I seen that affect her naming conventions. IJevin. We just… remove the I. For everything. This wouldn’t bother me except we don’t do it with everyone and I’m starting to get annoyed by the inconsistency. GoodTimesWithScar. Ok. This one also bugs me. Like, most fics call him Scar Goodtimes when they need a name. I’m not gonna dig into it but that’s…. Why? Why that? Grian never gets a last name. Ranboo sometimes gets chopped into Ran and Boo but usually he’s an Underscore or he’s last nameless. Wilbur Soot functions wonderfully (until the get involved shhhh) but it’s too close to his real name it gets very confusing.

anyway, all of this sucks, I hate it all, we’re a terrible fandom /hj

all that nonsense aside, yknow who has a functional Firstname Lastname username? It’s even got a space, and proper capitals: Mumbo Jumbo. That’s who. Look at that. It’s perfect. Everyone should be more like Mumbo Jumbo. Thank you and good night.

.

Edit: I know about Ranboo Beloved and Grian Dreamslayer and the various other characters whose names I didn’t mention perfectly in this post. This was no piece of journalism, this was an old man shouts at cloud meme personified. I was very overstimulated and this was what happened to catch my autistic ire. I’m not upset, just figured I’d clarify, a lot of people seem distressed at my not mentioning Beloved. Hope y’all are having a lovely day 💜

#molten rambles #mcyt #Dsmp #qsmp #hermitcraft #mumbo jumbolio #Weird rant

[sootsz]

qsmp has accidentally stumbled into a psychology experiment that would make the stanford prison experiment sob in fear. they’ve gotten a bunch of cc’s, and tens of thousands of viewers, to be deeply emotionally connected to pixel eggs. in doing so they’ve presented a problem:

how the fuck do you get outta this

the eggs were obviously never intended to be permanent (logging on every day to do tasks isn’t feasible to upkeep forever) and they were even given a vague limit of When Mama Dragon Comes Back (and then, of course, the “6 days til they die” thing). now you’ve made it so quackity (and his team) have a big ol dilemma, where two things are true: 1) they can’t keep the eggs forever since it’s not sustainable 2) you can’t take away the eggs without, oopsies, emotionally damaging your friends that you invited to have fun on your server.

turns out, when you give a group of humans all their own fully-realized individual who presents as a (weak, vulnerable) child that is in need of care from them, whatever instinct has kept us alive for generations goes “!!!!!” which is both really cool and compassionate, but also kinda concerning!

because, well: not sustainable! and if the eggs aren’t sustainable, what’s the alternative? killing them?? no! just look at jaiden’s reaction to bobby “losing” a life, even when it wasn’t his last one. or bad’s genuinely heart wrenching reaction to dapper losing a life. or how quiet and angry phil got after chayanne and tallulah had a “nightmare,” before it was resolved. that’s not acting. that’s real. what the hell will they do if the eggs actually die? from what i see, the cc’s are taking the “6 days til death” thing as something that’s avoidable. a threat that can be overcome. and for their sake, i hope it is.

ever played a dnd game where you actually feel insulted bc of smth someone’s pc did? yeah. that x20 because there’s SO much overlap between “streamer persona” and “literally just who they are”. and this level of roleplay character bleeding is cool, but i hope the eggs are handled carefully, or all those involved might end up actually hurt.

there’s also the whole added element of fans, many of whom only tune into the streams for egg content. the plot is very egg-centric. the roleplaying and characterization that the cc’s are doing is all centered around the eggs in one way or another. it’s been going on for a month, but it does not feel at all resolved, and plot-wise it would completely mess up so many plot threads happening if the eggs were all to go (charlie’s unresolved deal with lil j, quackity’s goal to bond with tallulah, the trial, etc etc) so if you take away the eggs, you risk messing up the whole vibe they’ve got going on, and facing backlash from fans who are also emotionally compromised by pixel eggs

we inherently want to protect the cute and vulnerable, and by god are these eggs cute and so very fragile. (then, there’s another layer of people’s own issues that they project onto the eggs. be it desire for paternity, some kind of maternal instinct, or, even in the matter of chayanne, using chayanne as a sort of way to cope with loss by making connections between chayanne and technoblade. which is beautiful and very sweet but would give chayanne dying some additional emotionally charged elements which i think should be avoided at all costs). there’s a reason that movies and other media generally do not kill named children characters—audiences really hate it. it’s taboo for good reason.

which leads us to

schrodinger’s egg: until sunday, they r both alive and dead. and this is both good and bad. god help us all

#please handle it carefully please handle it carefully please handle it carefully please handle it carefully please handle it carefully pleas #eggs :) #qsmp #quackity #Wilbur soot #tallulah #Philza #Charlie slimecicle #pleaasseeeeee #and this isn’t even touching on how the eggs feel #emotionally connected to somebody #never to talk to them again #having to watch them be sad #knowing it’s because of you #kinda fucked up #badboyhalo #dapper #Jaiden animations

[yelena-belovas-gun]

Overworked (Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You end up working a little too much.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!engineer!reader

Warnings: Overworking, tension, stress, anxiety, sickness, fever.

Requested by the following bao bun: @splat-tasha

Translations: 1. Detka: baby 2. Malyshka: baby girl 3. Dorogoy: darling 4. Moya lyubov: my love

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Honestly, working with S.H.I.E.L.D was very well paying, well-rewarding, and worth all the effort you put into it. You loved building things for the agents, coming up with new designs for weapons and bringing them up from graphite on paper into metal on gunpowder.

Natasha had to admit, though...you overdid it sometimes. You'd sometimes lose days of sleep over some new variation of a weapon, or while repairing a broken jet. Now, the bags under your eyes had pretty much become your personal accessory.

"Detka, please, don't overwork yourself..." she'd mutter against your hair as she cuddled your tired body after you'd finally let yourself rest.

"I won't, darling, I swear..." you'd mumble, but it would end up being a lie within the next two days, maximum.

This time, it went a little too far.

The entire day, you'd shown small signs that you were slowly falling sick from the amount you were working. Starting with your sudden loss of appetite, to blinking for a few seconds longer than any normal person would deem healthy.

"L/n, I need this ray gun fixed, asap," one of the agents said, handing you the said weapon. You shook your head to clear your foggy senses and nodded, taking it.

Later that day, Fury called you to his office and described a new kind of weapon they'd need for a stealth mission, and of course, you agreed to have the prototype ready within three days.

"Hey, Y/n, can you fix my pistols?" Maria asked you after that interaction, handing you a box. "For some reason, the safety isn't coming on on either of them since my niece messed with them, and I cannot have guns without a safety lock in the house..."

"N-no issue, Keya..." you mumbled, addressing her by the wrong name in your tiredness.

"Keya?" she raised a brow.

"Shit, sorry, I meant Maria..." you apologised, embarrassed. "I'm a bit tired, sorry. I'll have the guns fixed by tomorrow, no issue."

She smiled and thanked you, walking away.

You continued to walk around and work like a corpse, and felt the need for several cups of very strong coffee throughout the course of the day.

Natasha felt her gut telling her something was wrong, and decided to go and check on you.

And thank every merciful god that she did.

You were a mess, your workshop was like a hurricane hit it and it then got ransacked by an army of wild cats.

Nuts and bolts littered the floor, pages were scattered across two worktables joined together, grease stained the floor, and a concerning number of coffee cups were strewn around.

She heard the buzzing of a soldering iron and saw you at a worktable which had some of the surface visible. Your hands, which were normally so steady, were trembling, and you looked like you wanted to pass out as you fixed the safety lock of Maria's guns.

You got a phone call, and didn't notice Nat as you answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, Y/n, it's Phil. Coulson," came the voice from the other line. "So, um, I know you fixed my car earlier this week, but I got into a bit of a scuffle...the engine's not starting up and I think I screwed up the oil tank while I was at it cause this bugger won't fill up at all."

You exhaled heavily, putting a grease-stained, and shockingly blistered hand to your forehead, making another black mark appear on your skin. "I'll come over tomorrow to look at it, Dave."

"...Dave? What the hell?" His voice sounded confused and irritated, making you click your tongue in annoyance and sigh.

"I'm sorry, that's the thirdtimetoday..." you muddled your words together as well, making him as you to repeat. "I said it's the third time I've messed up someone's name."

"No problem, just can you fix it?" He asked.

"Yeah," you bade him goodbye and cut the call, going over to your whiteboard, where an array of tasks and their deadlines were listed out.

Natasha was horrified to see how many of them were marked for each day.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" Natasha gasped, seeing your hand shake and seeing you screw up Phil's name spelling on the board thrice.

You turned around and gripped the edge of a chair for support. You had a headache, and now were too dizzy to stand.

"O-oh...h-hi, Tasha..." you smiled at her.

"Don't you 'hi Tasha' me, idiot!" She stormed over to you, but nevertheless took your greasy hand in hers tenderly. "Detka, you are so overworked..." she felt how cold your hands were and immediately checked your temperature.

Fever.

"And you have a fever!" She gasped, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick!?"

"I'm not sick...am I?" Your eyes widened as you looked at the board, panicking. "No, no, no, I can't fall sick! I have so many things to give by tomorrow!"

"Y/n," Natasha's voice was scarily firm as she held you in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. "I am taking you home, and you will rest, or else."

"But Tasha..." you whined, but she was having non of it.

"Moya lyubov, moya dorogoya," she sighed, petting your hair and speaking as if you were a five year old, "You need rest, otherwise you'll fall sicker. Now, go and wait in the car."

"...yes, Tasha..." you mumbled like a five year old, and walked off.

Natasha was like an angry mama bear as she stormed into Nick Fury's office.

"Nicholas Fury, how dare you run Y/n to such levels of exhaustion that she's fallen sick!" She exclaimed, seething. "She has a fever, she is literally stumbling around and surviving on unhealthy amounts of caffeine, and is mixing up people's names! How dare you treat her like a machine! she fixes machines, doesn't mean she is one!"

Fury sighed and remained calm in the face of the livid assassin. "Please, tell Y/n to keep her projects on hold, and that she has nothing to worry about because we will pay for this sick leave. Happy?"

"Very. Now if I ever see this happen again, I will commit murder, and it will be yours." She turned on her heel and stalked off, back to the car where you were.

She got into the driver's seat and kept you nicely warm in her jacket, till you both got home.

"Now, malyshka, please rest," she kissed your forehead and smiled after she'd tucked you into bed.

"Thank you, Tasha..." you mumbled. she lay beside you and gently stroked your hair, stopping after you fell asleep, and cuddled you to recovery.

Maybe overworking had it's own perks...

THE END.

#natasha romanoff #shield #natasha romanoff x reader #femreader #engineer!y/n #wlw #bisexual #lesbian

[anarchy-and-piglins]

You've heard of vet techno? Now i bring you: vet techno *squared* - he's a veterinarian who was in the army. Because techno + animals is such a good concept, he'd make such an amazing veterinarian, now pair that with the hurt/comfort of having been at war lol

Make him an anarchist (you know how veterans get disillusioned with the government bc the army fucking sucks) and you'd have a really interesting interpretation of Techno's character for a modern AU.

Maybe Phil owns a store of choice across from where Techno's clinic is (a flower shop? always a banger) and he does kind of casually know Techno from having seen him around but they never actually talked. They do know each other's phone numbers, but only in a 'if my store is burning down and I'm not around, I want you to be able to contact me' way, not because they're friends.

Until Phil finds an injured stray cat and calls Techno's number because he's panicking and doesn't know what to do. It's the middle of the night (Phil finds the stray on the way back from some event that lasted until midnight) and Phil kind of expects to be blown off - Techno projects an intimidating aura while in reality, he's just a socially anxious introvert with a resting bitch face - but Techno instead tells Phil to meet him at the clinic.

It's late and Techno is wearing fluffy pink pajama pants with little pigs on them, a knitted (made it himself) cardigan thrown on over a t-shirt, mismatched socks, and has his hair up in this messy bun. And he treats the cat so gently while checking him out, making sure he's okay. Phil insists on staying because 1) he kind of instantly got attached to the cat and 2) he'd feel bad about waking Techno up in the middle of the night and then bailing. Before they know it, it's morning. They've talked a lot. Techno discovered Phil is also a veteran (sharpshooter, to be specific) who quit because of a leg injury. It does explain the cane he's seen Phil carry around.

The cat will be fine after a few days, Techno says, though it's not chipped and has no collar, so Phil will have to take him to a shelter. Techno knows a very good one nearby (he volunteers there sometimes in his free time). Techno would take the cat home himself but he already has a bunch of rescues including a big white Samoyed named Steve who plays well with all of Techno's other pets (mostly dogs, a pair of rabbits, and some assorted exotic pets like snakes and spiders) but doesn't like cats specifically. Phil says it's fine, he intends to keep the cat. As long as he can keep coming to Techno for pet care advice.

And that's how a friendship is born :D

#technoblade #philza #thoughts #asks

[bloodyymaryyy]

Gossip girl xoxo

F1 grid x driver reader

This is part 3

Part 1 / part 2 / masterlist

((Side note : I can't find the interview where Charles got in the way when an interviewer was interviewing lando on the pit lane so you have to use your imagination for that bit. Also those are not chronologically correct))

Request : no

Type : smau with texts, tweets and a plot in between those ( also I think the narrative is going to change a few times so beware to to get confused

After meeting up with your colleague / friends and whatever you were with them you had a lot to talk about because you went out with your friend group 2 and saw your friend group 3 and heard stuff that wasn't for your ears and an argument broke out saying stuff that they would regret after and naturally you had to tell your friend group 1 about it aka the grid.

It started with max when you found him entering the same time as you, it took you an hour to tell him everything, while you worked out both, next came lando and Oscar which you told them the half off it to save it for later because you had to go to a meeting with max and the time, after you found yuki and Pierre but you didn't name dropped most of it to save yourself from something that may came out to bite you because everyone knew that Pierre like you are big yappers but you knew when to stop talking about something that did not had to be said... Or at least outside because inside secrets spilled.

Then after a couple of hours before the race you went to your track walk and meet up with Charles and you spilled the tea with details and you accidentally went into the frame with Charles and almost immediately stopped talking and your facial expressions were everything like you were caught red-handed about something.

The interviewer quickly tried to include you both but you nudged Charles took his had and ran away.

Lewis knew about it right after you got home that day so he was unbothered driving his scooter behind you with one headphone on and sunglasses. Lando was left behind laughing but longing to know the rest when you could talk next.

( the second pic on the first tweet it this. Just pretend that y/n is like in the middle on the space )

Texts

Landinio

Y/n

Y/n

Eh

Oi

Hello?

I know you are reading them anwser me

Yourusername added a new story after a while!

Liked by landonorris charlesleclerc lewishamilton and 2.986.832 others

Replies:

User1 replied to your story!

Wow mommy

User replied to your story!

Holy shit you hot asf

User 3 replied to your story!

One chance I am begging 🙏

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Landonorris replied to your story!

Answer my texts!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Lewishamilton replied to your story!

Nice pic and car wanna go for a ride some time?

Yourusername : yeah sure tomorrow I am free all day so I can do that whenever you can! Just text me time, place and I will be there!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Texts

Landinio

Bitch answer me

The fuck?

I have tea!

You: oh do tell!

I was busy having a life

Sorry

Landinio

Okay whatever!

You know my friend Philip?

You:

Who?

Landinio : the one that is same height as me with the short hair and brown eyes that had a really annoying gf which is a nurse!

You : oh him yeah I remember! What happened?

Landinio :

Okay so he got into a car accident and he got to the hospital! And you know he wasn't exactly loyal... He got into an accident with his side chick and injured both but they are okay but! His girlfriend was examining the side chick and the girl was asking about Phil referring him as her bf and they were in those rooms where there are only curtains and he wasn't injured much and opened the curtains and saw his gf and his side chick speaking and the sc said : oh my god baby!? Are you okay?! And the gf was like... What are you talking about he is my boyfriend while looking between those two and long story short now he is without a gf and a side chick 👀🤭

You:

Holy

Shit!

You never fail to get me more juicy tea every day wow! I raised you well 🥺

Landinio:

oh shut up I shouldn't have even told you because you were ignoring me but anyway

You didn't raise me? What are you talking about we are the same age dumbass

You :

Whatever you say dude anyway gotta go I have something to do rn ttyl<3

Okay done! I hope you like it!

#x reader #f1 x reader #drive to survive x reader #marriswriting #max verstappen x reader #my writing #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #max verstappen x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lewis hamilton #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #fake texts #fake tweets #send help #bloodyymaryyy

[last-starry-sky]

innocent!reader x graves - part 3!!!!

(original idea inspired by this post by the lovely @shotmrmiller - part 1 here - part 2 here)

NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS - MDNI: (slut shaming, a lil bit of body horror-ish stuff, pov switches, lots of pet names (as per usual lol), dub-con if you squint (reader is a bit drunk so ymmv), fingering, look me in the eyes and tell me graves isn’t the type of guy to pack heat 24/7, i’m really leaning into how much of a virgin reader is so buckle in, no hard smut (again, sorry lmao))  

You were standing around the kitchen island with your mother. It was your usual morning ritual, but this morning was different somehow. You just couldn’t place it. Things seemed . . . weird. Off. Just a little to the left of normal. Like how the sun felt a too bright, blasting in the front windows like a floodlight, far too bright for the early morning.

You squinted at the bleached out white walls and shiny tile floor as your mom was cradled your face in her hands. They were cold. Your cheeks were cold. You shuddered in her grasp, peeling her off you as you stepped back. Your foot hit the leg of a stool behind you. You plopped down, falling right into the cushioned seat.  

“How was it sweetie? You have fun?” she said picking up her coffee cup with a smile so wide you wondered if it was hurting her. 

Her voice is unbearably high-pitched and sweet; like cold syrup pouring in your ear. It took you a moment to realize you had heard those words before, that this was not a dream.

It's a memory. 

Oh yeah, you realized, this was the morning after you went on your first date. You felt the stupid smile you had walked in with return to your face. Your first date with Phil.  

The thought of him warmed your brain. His hand in yours as he led you to the front door. How he’d let you doze off in his car on the way home. How warm and protected you felt laying against him by the bonfire. The memory was comforting, creating a mix of pleasant feelings in your chest.

“Yeah mom,” you replied automatically, “had a lot of fun.” It was the exact answer you had given her that morning. 

Her hands clenched around her steaming coffee cup, knuckles white.

“Tell. me. how. it. went.” She said punctuating every word, smile gone taught; practically carved into her cheeks. 

Weird, a rouge blip of a thought came to your mind. Those were the right words . . . but her voice, the way she said them. It was far too terse. This was not how you remem- 

“Really good,” you responded on queue, still dreamy and automatic. It was like you were on a track, all of the lines already set and all you had to do was say them as they came, no matter the parts of your conscious brain screamed at you that something was wrong. You have to stop. You have to stop now.

“That’s good!” she said flipping back into her overly-happy demeanor so fast it gave you whiplash. “He seems like such a nice man. Your dad just wouldn’t stop talking about him after you left!”

That was . . . normal. You still felt weird, squirming in your seat and looking at your hands just to look at anything but her. Maybe if you kept going everything would go back to norm-

“He is nice,” you said before you could stop yourself. “So nice. I’m glad you both like him, too. We want-”

She interrupted you.

"Oh, but I don’t, honey.”  

“What?” you gasped off script, cracking away whatever part of the memory had it’s tenuous hold on you. This isn’t how this went. You remember this morning. You remember what she said. You know-

“You heard me. Whore,” she said, smile dripping off her face. Her words were like a black hole. Void of emotion and sucking you in with a terror like oblivion as the unreal brightness of the room turned dimmer and dimmer behind her.

Your mouth fell open. You tried to do something, anything: turn around, backpedal, run, but you couldn’t. Of course you couldn’t. You never can run away in a dream. You were forced to watch your mother’s face swirl off into the cheery kitchen around her as her voice turned acrid and shrill.

“Don’t play dumb with me you little slut.” Her eyes falling inward into black pits that shone back at you. Mirrors into your own guilty soul. “I know what you do when you’re alone in your room. I can hear you. And now, even that’s not enough? Look at you. I spent all that time, raising you right, taking you to church, putting the fear of God in you, and still you ended up like this. What would your father think if he saw you now? Letting a stranger touch his daughter, in public no less!”

“Mom!” you managed to gasp out, cheeks burning. How did she know? How did she find out?

“Don’t mother me!” her squaking, multitudinous voice called out, echoing around the little kitchen as a pit twisted deeper and deeper in your gut. 

“You think you’re still my little girl? Look at where you’ve done. What you’re planning to do.” You felt like God himself was there shaming you. The cup shattered in her hand, spraying blue ceramic in slow motion. “I sure hope you enjoy your night with him because you’ve made your own bed now.”  

-

The truck sways, bouncing up and down and then left to right, waking you suddenly from your soft, childlike sleep. You hear Phil mumble a quiet ‘sonofabitch’ above you as he corrected the truck with his left hand while squeezing your waist protectively with his right. You’re still right where you’re supposed to be: cuddled safely into his chest.

You crack open your eyes a slit. The cab is dark, interrupted only by the irregular pass of streetlights that flooded the cab suddenly with light only to plunge it back into inky, silent dark a second later. 

You can feel his bicep flex, tensing to hold you close, behind your head. When he’s got the truck back safely in his lane, his muscles in his arm relax. He sighs into your hair and you feel his hand move back down to your thigh, the rough skin of his fingers slowly stroked at the exposed skin south of your skirt. You sigh softly, shivering at his touch, burying your face in his shirt as you stretch yourself in his lap. 

His hand stops when you move, turning to look down at you. It lays there, warm and strong, on your thigh.

“I wake y’up, sweets?” he asked, his breath rustling your hair.

You squirmed in his lap as you shook your head, stretching your neck and wiping at your eyes. His hand tensed on your leg. 

“What happened back there?” you asked sleepily. The alcohol had made your tongue heavy and clumsy in your mouth. You could still taste strawberries when you swallowed. 

“Ah. Oh that? Just a . . . just a log in the road,” he said with a pause and a shrug. 

He patted your thigh once before reaching up to take the wheel with both hands. He let out a soft groan as he canted his hips, shuffling your body on top of him as he readjusted himself in his seat. His eyes were focused straight down the road. It made you sad to lose his touch but you understood. Out the windshield you could see the road he was driving you down, if only what was illuminated by the headlights. Pine trees thickly lined both sides of the unfamiliar two lane road, interrupted only by the odd set of mailboxes that signaled a line of houses down hidden dirt roads. Everything was dark green and black. No stars. No moon. You didn’t know he lived so far out in the country, but then again, you had never been brave enough to ask. 

“You okay?” you asked quietly, still not quite woken up. You wrapped your arm around his ribs, relaxing into him, stealing his warmth.

“Yeah,” he said moving his left hand, letting it drip down the steering wheel until it just barely hung off the bottom. “Musta been a raccoon or somethin’ in the road. Got distracted.” 

He let go of the steering wheel, bringing his hand to grip your thigh where his other hand had been just a few minutes ago, right on the hem of your skirt. His thumb swiped back and forth, gently tracing from the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh to the top of your leg. The motion sent tingles racing to your core. You moved your leg a fraction of an inch to relieve the pressure but had to bite back a moan. Oh no, you thought tipping your head against his chest. You could feel how wet you still were. 

“Saw it too late ‘n had to swerve,” he added as an afterthought. You wondered if he had taken his eyes off the road to watch you now; if he could see you with your eyes closed, lip caught in your teeth, blissed out and squirming against his leg. 

He spread his fingers, pressing his warm palm flat to your leg, as he brushed up under your dress. You let your head loll back against his bicep behind you, unable to to keep your next moan from escaping.

“Now I got you distractin’ me,” he said with a hiss into your hair, sliding his hand up further. His fingers brushed at the edge of your panties. You squirmed under him as he danced ever so close to where you wanted him. Needed him.

“Phil,” you sighed. 

You were just about to crack, to grab his hand with your own and make him touch you, when he stopped, resuming his absent stroking. 

“Hold on jus’ a little bit longer, darlin’,” he said with a squeeze to your upper thigh. “Last turn’s comin’ up.”

He slowed down fractionally, taking a wide left turn that swayed the whole truck, the driver’s side wheels falling down into the slope of the ditch before pulling back onto the road. You bounced in his lap as the truck transitioned from the rough, but still somewhat maintained, concrete country road, to dirt and gravel. The trees lined the narrow road even closer than before, choking out the light from the increasingly rare streetlights. 

He took his free hand out from your dress, nudged in between your legs and his pants and adjusted himself. He closed his eyes for but a moment and groaned as he palmed his cock. It made you blush, you weren’t exactly used to men acting like this around you, but it also made you wickedly excited. He was like this because of you. You had made this strong, older man, a soldier, race you home on a dark rainy road just so he could get his hands on you. 

He put his hand chastely on your waist for a moment, flexing his fingers into your skin. It was as if he was weighing his choices. When you sighed into his touch he let out a held in groan. His choice was made. He skimmed his hand down your body to the press of your legs. When he got to the edge of your dress, he slid his hand under, bunching it against his sleeve as he sought out his prize.

It was the tip of his middle finger that first grazed your pussy. It made you jump, his touch punching out a gasp even through the cloth of your panties. He kept going, pushing his whole hand to palm at your warm, aching core. He ground the bottom of his palm against you, fingers stroked at your weeping hole, earning a pitiful whine into his chest. The brute, indirect pressure was making your legs shake.

You grabbed at his arm, looking up at him with pleading eyes. His eyes stayed stubbornly on the road. “Phil . . . please,” you begged. “Please-”

He cut you off by twisting his hand, curling his fingers under the waistband of your underwear to stroke at your silken folds in a single, fluid motion. You clenched, nails digging into his arm as you squeaked out a silent Ah as your eyes flew shut. 

The truck slowed to a crawl, headlights swaying back and forth, illuminating the same frame of unfamiliar road and dark, foreboding trees, as he concentrated on slipping his fingers through your untouched pussy. His ability to drive completely shot. You were lost too in the overload of new sensations. Your wetness covered his fingers, dulling the rough texture of his skin. He used his strength to press almost too hard as he made a circuit through your labia, up to your clit, finally swirling down and around your hole. You’d never had someone else touch you there, and even your own “experiments”, alone and frustrated in your bed, hadn’t yielded very much pleasure. But this, the tingling, shooting pleasure coiling tight in your core that had you open-mouth panting. This could be something.

He took his remaining hand off the steering wheel to wrap both his arms around you, leaving his whole body flexed on to the brake like a vice. He pressed his face into your hair as he rolled his hips against you with a moan.

“Fuck, baby,” he said with a flick of his fingers across your clit that made you flinch. He was completely blissed out - his voice rough and heady. The combination made you shiver against him. “Fuck. We can’t-” he said tipping your jaw up, forcing you to face him again as a blush crept over your cheeks, “-can’t do this here.” He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your lips before pulling back, his nose sliding against yours. “Open your mouth for me now, babydoll,” he said taking his hand away from your pussy to peel your bottom lip open with his thumb, your own slick painting your jaw. 

-

Somehow, someway, he did manage to pull his brain out of his cock and drive that last stretch of road to his house. As much as he had wanted to throw his plans to the wind and just fuck you in the truck he reminded himself that this was your first time. He needed to make it good for you. 

No high school specials tonight. That wouldn’t make you stay. 

He let himself indulge in one more sleepy, dazed kiss before he mechanically went through the motions to shut off the car. Slide the clutch into park, unbuckle, radio off, lights off, turn the key in the ignition. He had to move you off his lap to get out first before he could scoop you back up into his arms to bring you inside. When he leaned in to pull you out he saw his jacket crumpled into the corner of the passenger seat. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, almost ready to fall asleep again. A corner of your bright purse stuck out. It was tangled inside his jacket, almost completely hidden. He hugged you tight to his chest as you shivered from the misting rain. Your phone was probably in there too. 

Shame, he thought as he slammed the door shut with his free hand, you’ll probably be looking for that in the morning. 

He didn’t set you down until he got to the front door, not that you protested. Your useless heels would have sunk into the mud of the lawn anyway. It was still cold night despite the weather clearing. He liked feeling of you shivering against his side in the dark as he unlocked his front door. It wasn’t longer than a moment before he had the deadbolt and door unlocked, shooing you inside ahead of him. 

You ambled in, tipsy and disoriented, in the dark, heels clacking in an unsteady gait across the wood floor. He listened with amusement as you made your way around his unfamiliar home with only the sparse outside light to guide you. Sometimes he forgot how dark it could get out here in the country. 

He stopped at the dinner table, taking his time, unloading his usual carry: wallet from his left pocket, phone from his right. Each made a light clink against his keys as he tossed them onto the table. He reached around his back and unclipped his holster from inside his slacks. His clip followed shortly. They both made a weighty thunk on the table. He rubbed at the sore spot the grip had worn into his back, suppressing a groan. It didn’t help that his holster had slid to the middle of his back, making him adjust the way he sat the whole drive home with you wriggling in his lap. 

Once his watch was off his wrist and his shoes kicked behind him, he walked silently back to the door and locked the deadbolt. The sharp CLACK of the metal had always been comforting, but now, it was exciting. A sign that everything was ready. That you were safe now. Finally. he thought with a sly smile creeping across his face. Locked inside his home (could be yours too, in a heartbeat, if you asked). With no one around for miles to bother you. Right were you were always meant to be, darling.

The only safer place you could be is wrapped in his arms, and he planned to remedy that problem as soon as he found you. 

It didn’t take much of a hunt to find you. You’d made a light thump as you found the end of the couch with your hip in the living room and had decided it was as good a place as any to lean against. He had to give you credit, you had hauled yourself up onto the arm of the sofa all by yourself. It was almost cute to watch you struggle to keep your balance as you reached down for your ankle straps, little frustrated noises falling from your lips. 

He was quiet in his socks. He could tell you hadn’t heard him when you jumped as his hand touched your knee. He laughed at it as he slid up your thigh boldly.

“Phil . . .” you said grabbing his belt, looking up with pleading eyes.  

“Need help, baby?” he teased, trailing his hand back down to hook under your knee. You let out a gasp, crumpling his shirt at his waist as your fingers clamped suddenly together. He held your hips with his other hand, hiking your leg up to his hip, allowing him to smoothly slot himself in between your legs. 

This was going so fucking well. 

It took a little bit of fiddling in the dark, but he managed to unclasp your left heel, letting it fall with a loud THUNK against the floor. It didn’t help that there was not another sound in the house beside your rasping breaths. You were such a cute little thing like this: holding on for dear life, whining into his chest, barely able to breathe already. He smoothed his hand up your leg until it met his other hand at your waist. He couldn’t help but give you a little squeeze. You yelped, head shooting up out of his chest to lay your pleading eyes on him.

He pressed his advantage immediately. He chuckled and leaned down to peck a gentle, toying kiss on your lips. His hand was already moving down to your remaining shoe as he pulled away, a small, disappointed oh falling from your lips. This time, he wouldn’t let you hide. He moved his hand from your waist to the small of your back, rough fingers catching on the smooth, clingy fabric of your dress. You were red cheeked and panting, a small ah all the noise you could make, when he pressed you forward, forcing you flush against his front. Only an inch of needy, heated space separated his cock from your barely-clothed pussy and, good fucking God, did he need it. 

Need it. Need it. Fucking need-ed-it.

Your ankle in his hand, he deftly popped your hip open. He tilted forward that last, cloying centimeter to feel you. His eyes fell shut as he pressed to you with a groan. You were so warm. He could feel it through his pants. You let out a shamefully high-pitched whine in return. He felt his trapped cock jump in his pants. He was throbbing and, fuck, so were you. He couldn’t feel it yet, but he knew you were wet. How could you not be? All that excitement in the car had to have your pussy working overtime. 

Your second heel fell to the floor. 

“Phil . . .” you whined in the silence that followed, pawing at his sides and back. His dress shirt made soft swishing noises under your nails. It was almost like music. 

He chanced looking down at you. Fuck did you look gorgeous. Your skin shimmered in the dark with sweat. The first thing that caught his eye was your breasts pushed against his ribs, that little silver cross hidden safely away, swallowed entirely by your chest. Your eyes were huge, with pupils blown wide and glassy with tears as you looked up at him. You were chewing on your bottom lip again, the irritation making it all the more red and kissable. The more blissed out and needy he made you, the more irresistible you became. 

A perfect, vicious circle. A positive feedback loop.

He let go of your ankle to place his hand on your cheek. You were beyond flush, more like burning. When he felt you fold your leg around his hip of your own volition he couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He rutted forward into you. It was a rough pleasure that did almost nothing for both of you, but it was something. A tease in this slow, slow dance he had been leading you on, a preview of what was to come, maybe even a reward for holding on this long, for doing so so well.

“Doin’ okay, sweets?” he asked, petting your burning cheek with his thumb. 

You nodded with a bat of your lashes. You straightened your back suddenly to make yourself taller when you saw him leaning down to kiss you. You were still so excited, enthusiastic. 

Trusting. 

He let all the chains come off. Long gone were the quick, chaste pecks at your front door. The ones that drew you into him. A delicate summer moth hypnotized by a porch light, never to escape. Even the “real” kisses he’d had with you outside the restaurant and in the truck were blown away. He held your jaw open with an iron grip while he forced his tongue in your mouth. He was sloppy, aggressive, taking what he wanted. He would only momentarily break away to nip at your open, panting lips, before diving back in. It amazed him how submissive you were. You weren’t fighting him in any way, just let him control everything while you let out an occasional moan or whine. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to figure out why that was. 

You’d never been kissed like this before. How could you have an opinion on how you liked it when you’d never- Fuck, he forgot. How could he forget? You’d never done anything before. He’s got a little virgin in his hands, whining and squirming, practically begging for it. 

Hmm, he thought. Could he really . . . could he make you beg for it?

He squeezed the side of your thigh as he rolled another thrust against you, groaning against your lips. You yelped at the pain of his fingers biting into your skin, but it dissolved into another high-pitched whine. Fuck, could listen to that all night. Your legs tightened around his waist, keeping him close. 

“Phil,” you sighed as he rolled his hands up your thighs, dragging your dress up with it. “Phil please.”

Oh fuck, he thought. She’s really going to do it.

“Please what, darlin’?” he asked hoarsely, resting his forehead against yours, watching you squirm as he tried to pull your dress out from under you.

“Please . . .” you trailed off shyly, trying to make him stop by pawing at his hands. Not that you could.

“Gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he said voice drawn gruff and dry. 

He balled the stretchy fabric of your dress in his fists and pulled. It resisted, pulling ever so slowly from where it was trapped under you. The sound itself was delicious tension. More music to his ears. It was a long, soft noise as the knit stretched to it's limit in the quiet of the room. You tried to turn your head away, to hide your pants and whines, but he prevented it by shoving his face into your neck. He kissed and nipped at your neck until, without fanfare, your skirt popped out from under you.  

You slammed a hand to his chest before he could make another move. This time, he obeyed you. 

“Phil!” you plead, red faced from embarrassment, “Can we . . . can we not- um can we go . . . ” You caught your breath for another couple moments, wiggling your knees on either side of his waist, before turning to him. “Can we do this in your bed . . . please?” 

He hauled you up by your thighs, throwing you up onto his chest without another word. You scrambled to throw your arms around his neck as he backed away from the couch. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered into the side of your head.

#mw2 #graves/reader #graves x reader #cod fanfic #starry writes #call of duty #cod mw2 #here i am once again blue-balling my audience by delaying the smut for another chapter :) #sorry this took a fucking month i was outta my groove #also. just lookit me using dividers and shit like a real author

[jumpstart-if]

Jumpstart is a character-driven slice of life, containing drama and romance. It's mainly inspired by the show 90210 and the movie Mean Girls.

You had multiple sticky notes on your bedroom ceiling, bathroom mirror, and any other surface you were able to get it on.

How to be rich by 21:

1. Survive high school Survive the final year of high school 2. Move out and get a pet (finally!) 3. Become rich and famous (should be easy enough...)

This list has followed you ever since your eleventh birthday when you were suddenly bombarded with the dreaded question:

‘What is your dream job?’

Quite frankly, you didn’t dream of labour. At least not the regular kind. Call it psychic, but you knew you were destined for the easy life, filled with copious amounts of wealth, relaxation, and travels. You were are special.

Seriously, you had everything set out for your 'rags to riches' story:

You weren’t the most popular, but you also weren’t eating lunch alone in the school bathroom. ✔️

You made sure to work a part-time job, starting from the age of thirteen, so it would be easier for future fans to relate to you. ✔️

You were on your way to being crowned ‘Most likely to be famous’, which would have made for the perfect moment on ‘The Late-Night Phil Show’.✔️

Everything was going to plan… until it wasn’t.

Not only did your mother decide to marry some wealthy businessman, but she also packed up all your stuff and moved you hundreds of miles away from your home that screamed ‘humble beginnings’ and into a five bedroom (minimum) mega mansion.

Oh, and public school? Forget about that. From tomorrow on, you’ll be one of those rich private school kids. Goodbye 'rags to riches' background, and hello nepotism allegations.

Though, that’s a problem for future you...

Right now, you’ll have to adapt to school life the way the people at the top of the food chain do it. 

Get ready to ‘survive the final year of high school’ filled with gossip, betrayal, romance, angst, and social drama you could’ve sworn only happened in movies and TV shows.

Jumpstart is rated 18+ as there will be mentions of sexual themes, drugs, alcohol and violence.

Choose your MC's name and gender.

Decide your MC's personality, clothing style, and much more.

Get involved with 1 out of 4 romanceable characters.

Climb to the top of the hierarchy at Maplewood Private School.

Jumpstart your way into the life of stardom and wealth.

Isaiah/India (m/f) 'the high school worldwide heartthrob':

You could’ve sworn you saw them gracing the red carpet in some of the hundreds of magazines stashed in one of your moving boxes. Child of the famous celebrity make-up artist, Naomi Lawton and basketball star, Sean Lawton. Wanted by many, yet only successfully claimed by A. Though, judging by how many people I can be regularly spotted with, it begs the question: Does I care?

Appearance: Sepia skin tone. M! has short coily black hair, mostly styled in cornrows and decorated with some silver hair jewellery. F! has long bleached coily hair, currently styled in waist-length blonde braids.

Alison/Anderson (m/f) 'the school's number one':

Not quite like the ones in movies… they’re somewhat nice? At first, they can be straight-up vicious, ripping apart any and every little detail they can get their hands on, but once you earn their trust, you’ll learn that behaviour is much more of a façade than a true reflection of them.

Appearance: Olive complexion with sprinkles of freckles on their nose and cheeks. M! has short curly ginger hair that loosely hangs over his forehead. F! has shoulder-length ginger curls and bangs.

Tegan (m/f) 'the estranged childhood best friend'

You were eight years old, when their family decided to move someplace else, ripping your, what you thought to be inseparable, bond into two. At the start you tried to keep up, exchanging letters almost every day… then weeks… then months if anything, until complete silence. You’re not sure who stopped sending them first or when even, but one thing’s for certain: you were no longer friends. No, after ten years, you definitely weren’t.

Appearance: Brown skin tone. M! has black buzzed hair. F! has straight, waist-length black hair.

Levi/Leighton (m/f) 'wherever they go, trouble follows aka the school's bad boy/girl':

For someone with a big reputation, there’s next to nothing that can be found on them. And all your pestering questions are met with nothing but warnings, yet you can’t help but grow more curious about them with each passing encounter.

Appearance: Tawny skin tone, though you can’t help but notice the faded scar tainting their otherwise clear left cheek. They have wavy brown hair, reaching down to their shoulders.

Reblogs are more than welcome and thanks for reading!

DEMO TBA

#jumpststart if #masterpost #interactive fiction #cog #choicescript #wip #intro post #choice of games #interactive novel

[rainbowchaox]

Analysis of Pissa So Far.

This is a essay looking at our favorite death dads and how their relationship changed and their different nuances from to start to most recent. This will primarily look at the major three times we had Phil and Missa interact from the start with being paired for the eggs to recently the Mexican Independence Party. So bare with me and come with me down memory lane.

I rewatched day 1 of the pairing up of pissa to mainly cope with CERTAIN lore that happened recently. And yes it’s as fluffy and cute as I remembered. But let’s start at the beginning. Before the pairing up Missa and Phil knew of each other casually like acquaintances. In real life along with in general their characters/cubitos. (Again major thanks for the server in general bringing all these wonderful creators together.) Anyways the first time Phil met Missa was when he jumped off the wall and gave them food. I like to imagine missa had a non-serious crush on the man. But they didn’t really interact. And it’s fair to understand why.

But then the egg event happened. Which honestly in my opinion was the best event to bring the Spanish and English sides together organically. And looking back now it WORKED. So back on track everyone goes to the adoption center and like most Qsmp events it’s total chaos. Phil chooses his ticket and when I rewatched it Missa literally like spammed clicked it to break it and get Phil. Atleast that is what it looks like to me. So we already have the seeds of simp Missa from the very start. Also can we all take a break and just realize they both got tickets with D? And literally they are Deathduo? The more I rewatch the pairing lottery the more I think it was rigged by the admins and not actually by chance. Every duo either had similar humor or charm.

Immediately Phil and Missa find out they both have D. And it’s casual no romantic undertones the cubitos are still getting to know each other. But Missa being a sweetheart immediately is like you can choose whatever egg. And I think this is when Phil starts to soften and gets majorly endeared towards the clumsy reaper. Like not a crush. Not love. But the seeds of the adoration and love we see from Phil down the road. The fact of the matter Phil let Missa choose Chayanne name. The fact literally the newly formed death family was being fluffy and saying chayanne will be the best egg while literally everyone was screaming in the background. Its the main thing that would later define the dynamic of the ship. The gentle understanding and teamwork. That would later be a staple whether you ship them platonically or romantically.

And chayanne is the best way to show why pissa was meant to always work. Chayanne personality and hobbies all came from his two dads (Literally the reason chayanne was interested in cooking so much was because Missa taught him to cook). And like Phil once he was thrust into parenthood with Missa immediately found him endeared by his assigned husband? The amount of times he laughed because of Missa. Another theme so important to why pissa works so well.

Missa is Philzas calm balm. He relaxes Phil so much. And that’s so rare for that to happen. So of course a hour or so in taking care of their son. Phil visibly softens and gets endeared to the man. Phil immediately starts worrying about missa when he left. Missa may have fallen first but Phil fell harder. Like more time Phil spends with Missa the more comfortable and at ease he gets. Missa fully was like I have the best husband ever let me casually call you pet names.

Not to mention two popular scenes burned into the minds of fans. The moment when Mariana called Phil my love and tried to steal him. And Phil being Phil immediately was I’m okay with my partner thank you very much. And both Missa and Phil cuddled close. I still think Missa fell day 1 but Phil was quickly getting a crush on his assigned husband. Secondly Phil literally invited Missa to bed.

Their dynamic was one of like relaxation of trust and just both trying their best for Chayanne. They easily slid into a cute dynamic as both got endeared to the others. And also in day 1 Phil never said platonic it’s only after day 1 he started using that. And only when he wasn’t with Missa. He is a repressed romantic guy struggling with a crush. Not to mention the crows practically grew so attached to Missa it was insane to see.

Anyways like most couples they had to both take care of chayanne until Missa canonically got kidnapped by wolves for four months. During the time Missa was there he was pining HARD for Phil. Calling him his love and darling in Spanish. Phil meanwhile keep saying it was platonic and most of the fans accepted that. But then Missa was gone.

And cubito Phil missed him so fucking much. It’s at this point I fully believe is when Phil finally realized he loved him. He kept referencing Missa. He made armor for Missa. He dyed his backpack black with a skull because of Missa. It’s truly my belief that Philza realized he fucking adored the man in Missas absence. He never gave up waiting for Missa. And Missa eventually kept his promise and came back to his family.

And this is when you see some of nuance or facets change slightly in their dynamic. The core is the same all the way back from day 1 but it does change. It somehow becomes softer and domestic. Sure Philza even before his grand realization in Missa absence SPOILED missa. Missa made him soft. But when the reunion happened? Somehow Philza softens even more. Somehow he spoils Missa even more. This is why I believe that Philza finally realized he loves Missa. Because there is a clear increase in the affectionate displays between them.

Philza and the rest of the server went on the mission once Missa appeared. It was legit like Philza forgot that he was a mission. Philza when Missa appeared immediately softened so much. Of course Philza isn’t angry he’s gone. He just missed his husband. And voila once asked by Cellbit “oh this is your husband?!” He immediately agreed. This is important because for months if someone asked about who is Missa he would always and never fail to say Missa is his platonic partner/husband.

But in the reunion Philza just said husband. Because in my opinion Philza fully thought of Missa his romantic partner. The fact that Philza showed everyone including Missa the skull on the black backpack almost like a bird showing off his feathers. And Missa was immediately all gushy. The fact he only looked at Missa when he said you can go into my boat. And felps not realizing the sorta of energy the two of them was having immediately was cursed to be a third wheel.

Like literally felps was in the back of the boat being all “just ignore that I’m here” when literally Philza and Missa were lost in their own fucking world. Gently flirting with each other. Felps was regretting majorly getting in the boat with them so no wonder he bounced as soon as possible. And literally they were left by themselves still on a mission to save people. But I won’t lie it was a date.

Just them loving in each other company. And Philza being so gentle and loving and protective towards Missa. Their dynamic at their core is the same yes. But it’s undeniably more romantic. And Missa side of the dynamic also changes. He starts trying his best to protect Philza. The man who has from the start been protecting him and their son.

Missa slowly starts to become more brave and actually comments on how attractive Phil is in front of him. (I can see your pecs….yes Missa we get it you love Phil). They are closer than ever. Phil also immediately accepts Missa as Tallulah other dad. Do you guys know how massive that is? He trusts and loves Missa so darn much to let him easily be part of his whole family.

And eventually Missa had to go for a bit. But the amount of pissa interaction we get during the renuion stream doesn’t end. We have loads more to dissect. Missa comes back in hope to see his son and new daughter but sadly they were sleeping but later on despite showing Tubbo around. Once he saw Missa was whispering to him in chat immediately left as soon as possible to get to his husband. Also Cellbit who was with him and tubbo was immediately like “oh you need to help your husband understandable” while tubbo was just like so confused.

Meanwhile before this Missa was crying wanting to go back to Phil. Phil is his safety blanket. Phil never fails to make him feel safe and secure and protected. There’s reasons why Missa fell so quickly. And they met up. And to bring up my earlier point above. What Phil does nest is one of my primarily reasons why I believe Phil fully realizes he loves Missa.

Yes Phil spoils Missa. It’s his love lanuage but all the gifts and upgrades he did late at night (which Phil made a mission to give stuff to Missa before he logged off.) and even the armor he made so long ago. The amount of spoiling and pampering just screams love, adoration, and affection.

And of course they get sorta matching backpacks. And of course Missa says he loves him so fast so the translator doesn’t pick it up. This leds to when Missa showed up by himself had a loony toon day before being called out by roier. He fully says he loves Philza. LOVES PHILZA. TE AMO. Romantic.

Most of the fans knew because just look how Missa acted. But once it was confirmed Missa feels romantic feelings for Philza? That’s when the majority starting fully accepting them as romantic soulmates. And started seeing Philza actions how they are. Romantic. (Though if you prefer them as platonic that’s also very valid).

The only reason a pissa wedding or confession haven’t happened is because Missa loves Philza so much he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable or burden him with his feelings for him. If philza said let’s get married he would accept immediately. But knowing Phil he will say nothing about loving Missa because he is scared he won’t be able to be protect.

And more recently. The Mexican Independence Day party. I won’t lie the times they were together they were always flirting. They were so cute. And both in my eyes were getting brave with their love for the other in their own ways. Missa literally screaming VIVA TE AMO on stage when Roier said Philza. Or Philza making sure he follows Missa during the dance. The fact Philza was so gentle explaining the recent egg disappearance and made a comment of being shock that Missa came back (he misses Missa so much each time he is gone.).

And their dynamic switches slightly again. Because Phil the whole time was worried and hovering around Missa when ingesting everything lore at once. And Missa is again getting brave he fully said he going on a date with Phil. It’s romantic. There’s no way I can personally can see it otherwise (though again if you like them platonic you are hella valid). At the start there was seeds but their romance has grown. They love each other. They need to confess for my sanity. And I fully trusts that Missa will have some sort of role in saving his love. And maybe perhaps we can get a confession or wedding in the future-

#qsmp #pissa #I’m dead guys. THIS is literally my two essays combined #Leave your thoughts on tags. #or comments #I hope you enjoyed this summary? recap? of pissa as a dynamic from the start to more recent. #yes I know I’m normal about them #LET ME BE FREE #this is how I cope mates. #qsmp shipping #pissa newspaper

[genevawren38]

I have so many thoughts surrounding what Fit and Bagi discussed about Phil on stream today, then Fit's realisation it might be the Ender King.

First of all; FitMC, you chef above the rest, you fucking cooked today.

Second I think Fit was our best chance of that connection being made because he is the one Phil has confided in the most besides his own kids. Fit was the person he grabbed when he was convinced he was seeing things. He told the anarchist about the birdhouse plot. He brought him *again* when he saw things his kids didn't see.

Fit, is quite possibly, the only one outside his immediate family that knows the most about the crow and he knows something is wrong.

And of course this is happening the moment before he is also being dragged off to his own mission, but he can't help but worry about Phil's kids alongside Ramon and Pac.

Because Chayanne seemed genuinely worried and Fit took it seriously. He knew something was wrong the moment he saw the duckie-wearing dragon child and how he was snarky but sorrowful with responding where their father is. Tallulah told him she's had better days, and you can tell the moment he focuses up.

[And its delicious. Whenever those cc's focus in, I sit up straight cause its so impressive.]

Fit has some of the most regular content on that server. He sees things and records them, filing them away for later in case he needs that knowledge.

So the moment it clocks in that Phil is being weird enough his children are being outspoken, he engages. They took him aside, especially, and opened up more to their Tio Fit than I have ever seen [except maybe Tallulah with BBH, who now has amnesia, and Bagi, though misguided has a good heart (thinks Phil is a Federation experiment)].

And he's made the best connections using his past knowledge and experiences.

Bagi helped with showing the crying obsidian and comparing it to the markings that spread across Phil's shoulders and back where the backpack hung, and I think that's when it clicked for Fit.

But he didn't want to tell Bagi because he isn't certain and perhaps he remembers Phil stressing this 'him' is dangerous. But the similarities have started to snap into place; especially with crying obsidian being a marker of the End Dimension, or at least drawing his thoughts that way.

Basically at the end of all of this; Fit had the best damn shot of making the connection based on lore from months ago and I am so fucking glad he did cause at least another Islander finally has a name for the fallen god chasing their crow.

I hope to God he or Ramon share this knowledge with another trustworthy source if an emergency comes up [Hoping on Bagi, Etoiles, Cellbit and Pac]. I have never been more proud to call that beautiful bald man one of my streamers, Veteran's Duo understand each other on a level no one else comes close too.

Yes they have their own important secrets. But, when they are themselves, they will trust one another to protect anyone effected if it becomes dangerous. It's been them since Day 1, between the regular visits and missions Fit is the closest brother in arms Phil has.

Despite the crow believing no one will care nor want to get involved due to the danger, Fit, Pac, Bagi and their families are all ready to prove them wrong. Phil sees himself as removed from the rest because he can be rather blind to affection and fondness, his self-blame not allowing him to acknowledge he is cared about.

But he is. And by Goddess will that server prove it, with Fit and Ramon at the front of the pack.

#wrenrambles #wrenwriting #qsmp #qsmp fitmc #qsmp phil #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp ramon #qsmp pac #qsmp bagi #ender king #qsmp lore #qsmp text post #qsmp liveblogging #qsmp etoiles

[junkdrawerfics]

Swan Sisters (Part 1)

Jasper Whitlock X Reader

Bella Swan and Sister!Reader focus

Request:  Hello :D, I did like to make a request where Jasper's mate is Bella's older sister that lived with Charlie instead of going with her mother, so she was turned into a vampire even before Bella comes back so when she moves to Forks the reader avoids Bella for some time.

Note: I have attempted, though it definitely ran away from me! Part 2 coming soon, because I felt like it was getting too long. I really loved this request, and I hope I'm doing it justice.

Word Count: 3962

Warnings: None that I can think of! Maybe a bit jumpy, also does not really follow the book timeline, so apologies to any hardcore fans out there! There's gonna be discrepancies.

---

“Bella’s gonna come live with us for a while.”

“What?”

Your head shoots up, eyes impossibly wide as you stare at Charlie, your father.

“Yup. Your mom’s hitting the road with Bill, so Bells is going to come stay here,” Charlie explains as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“His name is Phil, dad,” you snort, though you still can’t wrap your mind around the news.

“Close enough,” he grumbles as he goes back to his paper.

You let out a heavy sigh, an old habit, and wring your fingers together.

This is really not good. Really really not good. 

You haven’t seen your younger sister since you were turned. It’s hard enough being around Charlie, you had to go on a month long “roadtrip” to adjust, which was actually just a month at the Cullen’s Alaskan home with Jasper. It’s easier when you’re with him, since he helps keep you in control. Everything is easier with Jasper by your side.

But you can’t have him at your side all the time here, in your home. Charlie wouldn’t like that. You cope for the most part, since you just graduated and work from home. Billy and Jake are the only ones who visit, and they don’t exactly smell all that great. Besides them, it’s still a struggle to be around other humans, and the thought that you might hurt Bella? It makes your chest hurt.

“I’m going for a run,” you mumble, throat tight, and you can’t tell if it’s thirst or anxiety. Either way, the buzzing under your skin is only getting worse the longer you do nothing.

“Take some mace with you, there’s been some weird animal activity in the woods recently,” Charlie calls as you head for the door.

“Sure thing.”

You tuck the canister of mace into your pocket despite knowing how pointless it is. You could handle anything in the woods with your bare hands, but if it helps Charlie feel at ease, you might as well.

You get a few paces from the house before you take off like a bullet. The forest whips by, blurry and focused all at once. Every deer, every squirrel, every spider, you can feel it, hear it as clearly as you can hear your feet pounding against the ground. And you can hear voices ahead of you as you near the glassy house tucked deep in the forest.

Alice must have seen you coming, because Jasper is waiting on the doorsteps, dark eyebrows set in concern, jaw tense. You come to a stuttering stop in front of him, practically falling into his arms when he opens them for you. The moment they wrap around you, all the anxiety, the worry, the fear, dims into a low hum, replaced with something warm and comforting and so Jasper.

His question rests heavily in the silent moment you take to compose yourself, to just breathe in his scent. Old books and gunpowder. He hasn’t touched a gun in ages, but somehow it lingers, and you love it. It reminds you that everything turns out for the better, just like you and him.

“Bella’s coming to stay with us,” you confide into his neck, fingers curling in his sweatshirt.

Jasper’s arms tighten just a fraction around you. “You’re scared.”

“More like terrified,” you breathe and pull back to look into his eyes, golden just like yours, like the sun. If you didn’t feel so much like crying, you’d bask in it, but you can’t do either now, and all that comes out is your voice, broken and shaky, “I don’t want to hurt her, Jas. She’s my little sister. I can’t hurt her.”

“You won’t,” Jasper insists softly, hands coming up to hold your face, fingers cool and smooth against your cheeks.

“How can you be sure?” 

“Because, darlin’, you care too much. Under this fear, you’re all…stubbornness.” The corners of his lips quirk up. “But if you’d like, we could take another trip, jus’ you and me. I hear Brazil’s nice this time of year.”

You shake your head, “As much as I love the sound of that, cowboy, I don’t think my dad will be such a fan of me disappearing again.”

“That’s a shame, I sure wouldn’t mind seein’ you-”

“Jas.” You narrow your eyes, and the vampire smirks.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Let’s stay on topic, shall we?” You chirp, resisting your own urge to smile.

“My apologies, ma’am.” Jasper gives you a mock bow and takes your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles, eyes dancing with mirth as he looks up at you.

This does get you to smile, “You are ridiculous, mister.”

“And you’ve calmed down.”

You pause, check in with yourself. Jasper always seems to be more aware of your feelings than you are thanks to his ability. And he’s right, you do feel calmer. Your mind is clearer and the urge to run has dimmed. The worry is still there though.

You can’t let her figure out what you’ve become, or what the Cullens are. You don’t want to leave Forks, after all, and you can’t leave Charlie behind. So you’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t figure it out. Shouldn’t be that hard, right?

---

The moment Bella steps into the house, you realize just how wrong you are.

The scent of fresh blood hits you like a truck, or perhaps something worse considering you could handle a truck now. A werewolf maybe. It makes you falter, chest completely freezing as you stop breathing all together.

You were very, very wrong.

“Hey, Tinkerbell,” you greet her, forcing every bit of warmth into your voice despite the pain creeping up your throat.

Bella rolls her eyes, but a smile pulls at her lips as she sets her suitcase down, “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Sorry, but it’s a forever thing, hun,” you chirp and move to give her a quick hug. She accepts it far too awkwardly, which you’d tease her for any other day, but you’re more focused on putting some distance between you. “So, how was the trip?”

Your sister looks at you for a moment, something unreadable in her eyes, which makes you shuffle your feet out of habit. Did she notice the cold skin thing? You’d put on several layers though, and you’ve both always run cold. Maybe your eyes? No, no you’re wearing the contacts. 

“You look different.”

Crap.

You feign innocence, casting her a confused glance, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…”

“Your sister’s on a big health kick, she’s looked different since she started.”

Thank God for Charlie.

“Health kick?” Bella raises an eyebrow at you, far too smug for your liking.

“All you’re nagging finally paid off,” you huff, secretly relieved.

“Not on me,” Charlie points out, almost proudly.

This takes most of the attention off of you thankfully, as Bella turns to chastise your father and they fall into an all too familiar debate. She’s still the same Bella, and Charlie is still Charlie. You’re the only one who’s changed.

Something twinges in your long-still heart.

You don’t regret your decision, you could never regret choosing Jasper, but looking at your family, you can’t help but realize how temporary this will all be. While you will end up disappearing with some elaborate story, they’ll keep living, keep aging. They’re human and you’re not anymore.

Another breeze catches Bella’s scent, the fire in your throat flaring back to the front of your mind. You swallow dryly.

Focus, (Y/n), focus.

Without a sound, you busy yourself grabbing Bella’s bags and taking them to her room. It’s all you can do to stop the hunger from taking you away. It’s like you didn’t just feed a few hours ago, like you haven’t fed in weeks. You haven’t felt this bad since you first turned.

If only Jasper was here. It’d be so much easier if you could just tuck yourself into his chest, forget the world for even a moment. But then he’d be struggling just as much as you are. You could never ask that of him.

So you tuck yourself into your room, shouting down the stairs that you have some work to do. Even when Billy and Jacob drive up in the truck Charlie bought for Bella, you merely perch at the window and watch on. Billy must feel your gaze because he glances up to you, his lips pinching into a thin line when your eyes meet.

Is it even possible for someone to look more disapproving? You can’t imagine it, looking down at Billy right now. To think, the man used to be like a second father to you. And then you turned, and suddenly you were on opposite sides of a longstanding war.

You miss him, and Jacob. So much.

All that’s left of that relationship is a curt nod, a small sign of respect, before Billy turns back to Charlie as if nothing happened. At least you know he won’t say anything. That would hurt Charlie more than you.

With a soft sigh, you watch as Bella hops into her truck. She leans forward, obviously looking for something in the house. You lift a hand, catching her attention. Bella sends you a relieved smile, waving back, before she shifts into gear and backs out of the driveway. Off to school, you guess.

You take a deep breath, letting the clean smell of your room fill your senses. It helps sooth the pain in your throat, enough that you can think a little clearer.

You need to stay as far away from Bella as possible. At least, for the time being, until you get used to her scent. She’ll probably notice, your sister has always been more perspective than you give her credit for. After all, it’s no diet that’s changed the way you look. 

You’ll just have to be even more careful.

---

“What?”

You blink owlishly, glancing between Jasper and the rest of the coven to Edward, who looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him look. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look nervous.

“She’s his singer,” Alice explains softly.

“Bella?”

“Yes.”

“My sister?”

“...Yes.”

An indescribable feeling burns in your chest as you cast another glare towards Edward.

I’m going to kill him.

“I didn’t do anything!” He exclaims, holding his hands up defensively.

“She’s my sister, Edward,” You growl, temper simpering.

“It’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” he snaps back.

You lunge for the man, only stopping when a pair of arms circle around your waist like iron bars. You snarl, struggling against the bonds, clinging to the anger burning in your chest when a flood of calm water rushes in to wipe it away.

“Let me go, Jasper,” you bite out, but his grip only tightens.

“Calm down.” His voice is firm, his ability cloaking you further with calm calm calm.

You grit your teeth, eyes clenching as you shake your head, as if that can rid you of his powers. You don’t want to be calm. You want to tear Edward limb from limb. Every morsel of your being is screaming at you to protect your sister, protect your family, even though you know Edward would never hurt someone.

It’s impossible to hold out long against Jasper’s ability though. You’re one of the few that actually can resist, if only for a short time. But eventually, you have to give in. You slump back into Jasper’s hold. The last strands of your fury melt away, soothed when your mate presses a kiss to your temple with a low hum.

With one final deep breath, you turn back to Edward, “So, what are you going to do?”

“I can’t stay here,” he murmurs, voice tight, “Not with what Alice has seen. I’ll go to the Denari, stay with them for a while.”

“For how long?”

“However long it takes.”

You purse your lips and nod, “Be safe. And don’t be long okay? I may want to kill you now, but I’ll miss you.”

Edward flashes a snarky grin your way before nodding to the rest of his family and disappearing to go tell Carlisle. The others disperse as well, probably wanting to occupy themselves after such a crazy day. You huff softly. 

It must be difficult for all of them to be separated from him, since they’ve been together for so long. Even after just a few years, you’ve come to love Edward like the brother you never had, which makes you feel all the more conflicted about all of this.

Instead of facing it, you turn to Jasper and wrap your arms around his waist, chin propping against his chest as you gaze up at him,“How did you feel today? Everything okay?”

“Besides the constant concern from my siblings?” He sighs, and you brush your fingers comfortingly along his jaw. Jasper leans into your touch, kind of like a content cat. “I find myself still struggling with certain…urges.”

You hum softly, “I hope you’re not ashamed of that.”

Jasper perks a brow at you.

“I just mean that you should keep in mind how hard you’re working,” you elaborate, “Give yourself credit for that, Jas. You may have to work twice as hard as them, but you’re doing so well. I mean, look at us. You knew me for years as a human, and I know how hard that was for you, but you never, ever hurt me.”

The blond purses his lips, glancing between your eyes for a silent moment. It’s only when he feels your sincerity, a feeling akin to a warm blanket on a cold day, that the tension drips from his shoulders.

“You really are something, darlin’,” he murmurs, lips pulling into a slanted grin as he ducks down to press a kiss to your lips, “Worryin’ about me when you’re facin’ your own problems.”

“Well, I can always just come here when Bella’s home, you’re stuck in that school. I’m sure she’ll notice me avoiding her, but that’s better than her ending up dead, right?” The words send a pang through your chest.

“Based on today, I’d say your need to protect her far outweighs your thirst, sweetheart,” Jasper drawls, a touch of humor in his tone, “You looked this close to killing, Edward.”

“Oh, I would have. If he even touches her, I still might.” Jasper grins amusedly down at you, despite how serious you are trying to be. You set your lips into a stubborn frown to hide your own smile. “Seriously! I need you to keep an eye on him at the school when he comes back, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” You huff and stretch onto your toes to press a kiss to his curled lips. Jasper chases after you as you pull away, but you cover his mouth before he can draw you into anything more. A giggle breaks past your facade when his brows steeple, eyes narrowing at you. “Sorry! But I need to go home, mister. I may have to keep my distance, but goodness knows Charlie can’t cook, and we don’t have food to make anything, so I need to make sure that girl gets something good to eat.”

“You can get there in seconds,” Jasper grumbles through your fingers, grip tightening around your waist as he pulls you even closer.

“Yes, but we both know that I won’t be leaving anytime soon if you start something,” you point out, a teasing smile on your lips, “And it’s not like I’ll be gone long. I’ll come back tonight, okay?”

That’s when the sad puppy look comes out. For being the strong, southern hero type, Jasper is secretly a sucker for some soft attention, and he’s figured out exactly how to get it. He quickly mastered the puppy-eyes once he realized how they weaken your resolve. The little, conniving devil knows exactly how to get to you.

“Don’t give me that look,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut, “Please, Jaz? I promise I’ll come back.”

“...fine.” Jasper relents, you can feel his grin under your fingers. “I’ll be waitin’ for you, darlin’.”

“I love you, Jazzy.”

His laughter fills you with a warmth you no longer have. You’d be a blushing mess if you could, especially when he kisses your palm, all gentle and soft, eyes alight with mischief.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I already was.”

“I swear-”

---

The next week goes by miraculously, somehow, between you avoiding Bella and Edward being gone. You get away with a few lies whenever Bella tries to talk to you.

Oh, I have some work I need to finish tonight.

My boss is about to call, can we talk later?

Sorry Bells, work is just killing me this week.

Each time, when you have to watch her face fall, guilt claws viciously at your chest. It’s not like you want to avoid her. If anything, you wish you could just sit down, spend hours talking, about school, about boys, about everything. But everytime she gets close, the familiar burning feeling comes back. Weaker and weaker each time, thank the heavens, but you still can’t bring yourself to linger.

Bella doesn’t seem too keen on being patient though, as she corners you one evening while you’re cooking dinner.

“Do you know the Cullens?”

Every muscle in your body goes still, but only for a millisecond, before you force yourself to keep moving, breathing, blinking.

“Kind of! As well as most people, at least.” Not exactly a lie. “I knew of them while I was in school.”

“How about Edward?”

Ah. You recognize that tone. The slight interest, a touch of curiosity. 

It’s exactly how you felt when you first learned about the Cullens, when you met Jasper.

“What, are you into him?” You cast her a glance, eyebrow raised teasingly.

“What? No!” Oh, she’s blushing. Now you really have to keep an eye on Edward. “He’s a total weirdo anyways.”

You snort, “Yah?”

“I have biology with him, and he just…I don’t know. He was so weird, and then I caught him trying to change classes after school. I think he hates me, but I don’t know why.” She looks so put out by the idea, an all too familiar pout on her lips.

“I doubt that’s the case, Bells,” you chime, “Edward’s not that kind of guy.”

“I thought you said you barely know him?”

Whoops.

You smile down at your soup nervously, “I don’t, I just meant that he doesn’t seem like that kind of guy. The Cullens are weird, but Dr. Cullen is a kind man. Dad likes him.”

Plus, you know exactly why Edward acted that way, not that you can tell her. It’s far from hatred, you think bemusedly.

“So you don’t think it’s a coincidence? Him asking to leave the class the day I start? Or that he hasn’t come back to school since?” Bella crosses her arms, staring you down with the stubbornness of a bull. She really is Charlie’s daughter.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Tinker Bell. Maybe he just got sick?” You force a smile, despite the pit opening in your stomach from the lie. “Boys are weird, take it from me.”

“Does that mean you have a boyfriend?”

“And dinner’s ready!” You squeak, dancing right past that question, “Could you go tell dad?”

“Sure.” Bella gives you a look that says this conversation definitely isn’t over, but does as you asked anyways.

You breathe a sigh of relief once she’s out of the room.

Of all the things to start talking about, of course she would pick the Cullens. You can’t blame her, you really can’t. When they first showed up in Forks, everyone was inexplicably drawn to the vampires. Not so inexplicably, you guess. You were drawn to Jasper the moment you laid eyes on him. His quiet, almost shy demeanor did you in, and the accent. To this day, you still swoon over that deep, southern drawl.

And now it’s like you’re watching it all from the start. The disappearing. The self-doubt. The intrigue. Except it’s Bella and Edward instead of you and Jasper. 

“So, what’s for dinner, (Y/n)?” Charlie rubs his hands together as he shuffles into the kitchen.

“Tortellini soup, old man. Low sodium, but plenty of chicken, just for you,” You tease as you put a bowl in front of him.

“Dad, does (Y/n) have a boyfriend?” Bella follows close behind, and you can’t help but quawk at her.

“Bella!”

“She sure does,” Charlie snorts as he blows on his soup, “That Cullen boy.”

Bella shoots you a look, something between a glare and something smug. You cringe away, busying yourself with cleaning up. You’re screwed, you’re so screwed.

“Which Cullen boy?” She presses.

“The blond one. Not too bad, that kid.” And Charlie is completely oblivious! He’s supposed to be on your side here!

“I thought you said you barely know them?” Bella prompts, brow raised in accusation.

Think quick, (Y/n).

“They’re a private family, Bells, and you don’t understand how people are here.” You dig into old emotions, one’s you’ve long since buried. Hopefully it’ll make her uncomfortable enough to stop. “When it came out in school that Jasper and I were dating, people were horrible to me. I don’t like talking about it.”

It brings back every pain seeded in your heart. You faced it all. Jealousy, hateful notes shoved into your locker, obscene rumors whispered as you walked down the halls. Everyone you grew up with, everyone you loved, turned on you, just like that. You had no one except the Cullens and Charlie after that.

“I have work to do,” you mutter, grabbing a bowl of soup to pour down your sink later. “Enjoy the food.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m sure he’ll come back soon, Bells. Give him the benefit of the doubt when he does.” You give her a gentle, sad smile. “He is a good guy.”

And with that, you disappear upstairs, every step like a heavy weight, pulling you underwater.

It’s not supposed to be this hard. You’re supposed to be able to tell her everything. That’s how it’s always been. Even when your parents divorced, even when they moved to Arizona, you and Bella never drifted apart. You told her every tiny detail of your life.

Until high school.

When it all happened, you were just so…embarrassed. You’re the older sister, you were supposed to be strong, set a good example, show her that she could do anything. But you just ended up drowning, with Jasper as your only source of air.

So you’ll do anything for him, for the Cullens, even if that means lying to your sister. And it’s protecting her too, you remind yourself as you settle down at your desk. The less she and Charlie know, the safer they are from the Volturi.

You can do that, at least. Protect them. Both the Cullens and your family. No matter how many lies you have to tell, or creative answers you have to whip up for Bella’s sure to be unending number of questions, you will protect them.

And who knows! You perk up, trying your hardest to be positive. Maybe this won’t be exactly like you and Jasper. Maybe this is just a passing curiosity that will let up once Edward comes home, and you can forget it all in a week. Eventually you’ll be able to talk to her about Jasper, just without all the bloody details.

Yah. Once she’s safe, from you and the looming threat that comes with this truth, everything will go back to normal. Hopefully.

---

I'm struggling a bit with this one but I'm really enjoying the concept! There's just so many ideas to go with, and I want to write them all! Who knows how far it'll go haha.

Part 2

#reader insert #x reader #reader #twilight saga #twilight #jasper whitlock #jasper hale #jasper x reader #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock x reader #vampire reader #swan reader

[ofstarsandvibranium]

The Music In Me

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You and the AFC Richmond team go to a karaoke bar to celebrate a win.

A/N: phil dunster, pls serenade me. i beg.

Your relationship with Jamie was fairly new. You were a photographer that Keeley hired to do some campaign shots of the team. Jamie made you laugh when it was time for his shots and the rest is history.

You two were definitely still in the honeymoon phase of the relationship. Something new and exciting. You thought being with a hotshot like Jamie would be difficult, with his fame and notoriety, but it wasn't. It was the complete opposite. He made things so easy. You enjoyed his company, he made you laugh, was considerate of your feelings. You felt seen and heard by him.

You were smitten and everyone can tell he felt the same.

"Cheers!" you holler with the Richmond boys, clinking your shot glasses and beers together. Jamie was the only one drinking water now, since Roy gave him a limit of two beers.

You down your shot and wince. Jamie snickers, "Strong?" he asks, offering you his water.

"Very," you gulp some of it down and hand it back to him, "Think I'm done for shots tonight."

Jamie nods, "Probably best. Don't want you completely plastered when we go up there," he points to the stage where Dani is getting ready to sing his song.

You look at him in surprise, "You signed us up?"

He nods, "Yup. I need everyone to know that me girl's got a voice of an angel."

You snort, "Think you're exaggerating a bit, babes, but it's fine. What song did you pick?"

He smirks at you, "You'll see."

_________________

You, Jamie, and the guys burst into hollers and whoops as Sam and Bumbercatch hop down from the stage after their rendition of "No Scrubs".

The emcee walks up and speaks into the mic, "Wow! That was surprisingly really well done. Anyway, next up we have," she pauses to look at the clipboard of names, "Jamie and Y/N!"

The boys are no cheering for you and Jamie as you stand and make your way to the stage. Jamie hops up first, offering his hand out to you to help you onto the platform.

You shyly smile at him as he guides you to one mic stand and he stands at the other. There's a a screen at the corner of the stage so you can see the words "Everything Has Changed by Taylor Swift ft. Ed Sheeran" appear.

You smile widely at Jamie and he gives you a wink. He knows you love to listen to Taylor Swift.

The acoustic guitar rang out from the speakers and the screen told you to get ready to sing in 3..2...1.

All I knew this morning when I woke Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before And all I've seen since 18 hours ago Is green eyes and freckles And your smile in the back of my mind making me feel like

You turn to Jamie smiling from ear to ear and he's looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky.

I just wanna know you better Know you better, know you better now I just wanna know you better Know you better, know you better now

Jamie joins in and takes you a bit off guard,

I just wanna know you better Know you better, know you better now I just want to know you, know you, know you

The both of you go into the chorus and you stare at Jamie wide-eyed because you didn't know he sings so well. Sure you've heard him singing under his breath or humming, but never so loud and confident like this.

Then he goes into the next few lines and you just stare at him in awe. He moves closer to you, having you face him while he sings. He knows this song by heart because not once has he glanced at the screen as he serenades you. You're caught up in him that you forget to sing, jumping back into the chorus with him.

You two continue this song and dance. He twirls you around while singing with you and you do your best to keep up. Your heart and stomach are fluttering in the best way as he pulls you in as you both finish the last line of the song

All I know since yesterday Is everything has changed

The guys are absolutely losing their minds. It's clear none of them knew that Jamie could sing.

Jamie hops down from the stage, offering his hand again as you jump down as well. He kisses your temple and wraps and arm around your waist, guiding you back to the group while everyone applauds.

As you two reach them, the guys are patting you and Jamie on the shoulders.

"Bruv, how come you didn't tell us you can sing?!" Isaac asks in disbelief.

Jamie shrugs, "Not really important in football, is it?"

"Still. You got mad talent," Isaac says.

Dani chimes in, "A voice of an angel!"

You snort and nudge Jamie, "So much for showing me off. You took my spotlight," you say jokingly.

Jamie winces, "Sorry, babe."

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no it's fine. Really. I'm more upset at the fact you never sang around me like that before. You know you definitely have to sing more around me now, right?"

He grins at you, "Whatever you want, love," he kisses your cheek.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine

[octuscle]

Greetings. recently, my gym at home was closed and I had to go to a gym in a nearby disadvantaged area. I'm going there for the first time today.. a strange place.. they have a dress code there (only T-shirts and shorts) and some kind of Chronivac competition is taking place there. Do you think I didn't make a mistake by signing up here?

First day: I stand out here in the studio with my workout clothes. Most beefcakes wear old, worn-out and washed-out clothes made of sweat fabric. With my new brand-name clothes made of high-tech functional fibers, I'm an exotic. I also stand out in other ways. I think I'm the only member without a tattoo or a beard. And the only one who showers after training. In any case, the only one who uses shower gel and deodorant.

Second day: I took a two-day break from training. This actually stood out. When I was on the leg press, a colossus came up to me and asked where I had been. I explained to him that my last personal trainer recommended not working out more than three times a week. The response was "Bullshit, lil' brother. Just listen to meh now. I expect to see ya 'ere any day. An' put on more weoit." His stench was numbing. I didn't dare disagree.

Day Three: Phil from the front desk greeted me with Fistbump. He hands me a canister of protein shake. Bonus for working out two days in a row. Hehehe, hope it helps. I'm still one of the little lads here. But thanks to the protein shake, at least I can fart like the beefcakes… My beard is coming along nicely… I'm starting to look like a man.

Fourth day: I've been wearing mah gym clothes continuously for 24 hours now. And of that, i've been pumping iron for 12 hours. Ano every pumper in da gym by name. I feel loik i was in kindergarten wiv 'en. Or in juvie. We're a toit-knit community here. We don't loik to see new members… Gaz asks if i'll work out da chest wiv him today. Sure thing!

Day Five: Tyler says none of da bruhs expected da chronivac settings to have such an effect on meh. I don't understand a word he's saying. Must be some bro beefcake stuff. I really have a lot to learn. But da workout was great! i'm pretty darn happy wiv da results. But d'er iz still a lot to do. Set new record for barbell curls today.

Day six: Dwayne gave meh 1 of his t-shirts 2day. Stinks worse then dwayne himself. But my old 1 looks all pussy and is 2 smol 2. Tyler asked if id liek 2 start working fo' his company as a mover. It's finally a job fr men. And so the move 2 the new apartment will b cheaper, 2. The old 1 is just 2 far away frum the gym

I found the intermediate state of your development @bestvideosmuscle

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #inked man