#like i thank this universe that mike was able to put so much out there while he really had full control over his voice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months

Text

girls night guardian

words: 1.3k

warnings: request!, drinking, partying, violence, college au

“you sure you don't want me to come?” rafe asks, adjusting the strap on your dress for you, wishing it covered up more of your body.

“it's girls night rafey.” you shake your head. “besides, it's just a sorority party. there will barely be any guys there.”

“yeah, alright.” rafe sighs. he trusts you to party on your own without him, its everyone else that he doesn't trust. whether it's a friend encouraging you to drink more than you should or a guy dancing up on you.

“i don't wanna be out super late anyways. will probably head home around 11:30 if you wanna stay up.” you offer, knowing rafe would feel better if he was able to make sure you were home safe before falling asleep.

“definitely will.” rafe cups your face, pressing his lips to yours, smearing the lipgloss you had just reapplied.

“okay.” you smile at him, swiping your thumb across his lower lip to get some of the sparkles off. “love you baby.”

you weren't sure at first when your highschool sweetheart asked to move to the same college town as you. worried living together and attending university away from the outer banks would put too much stress on your relationship, but it's only strengthened.

“i love you so much more princess.” rafe says. you learned not to argue back about who loves who more, rafe will always insist it's him. “you sure you don't want me to walk you there?”

“thanks for the offer, but you know katie only lives three houses down.” you pat his cheek before opening the door, stepping into the cool night, the setting sun casting a warm orange glow among your neighborhood, technically off campus but steps away from the greek life houses, every house being rented by students for the course of their education.

“alright, have fun princess.” rafe says, watching you walk out the door. you close it behind you, but aren't surprised when you hear it reopen a minute later, rafe watching you until you reach katies door.

you raise your fist to knock, but before you can even make a sound, your best friend flings the door open with a squeal.

“i am so excited for girls night.” she says, looping elbows with you and ushering you back down the steps. knowing katie, she's probably been ready to go since lunchtime.

“me too.” you smile. you love rafe and love partying with him, but it's fun to occasionally leave the boyfriends at home and just have a blast with your girls.

you reach the party quickly, it's only about a two minute walk until you see the sorority house, and hear the loud music.

it's a rush of hugs and squeals and greetings when you enter, your friend taylor making it her mission to drag everyone towards the dance floor, which the entire living room has basically been converted into, with a makeshift bar in the corner.

you laugh and dance with your friends, occasionally downing whatever alcohol that is pushed into your hands by katie or taylor.

you aren't too drunk, but your bladder has filled so you tell katie, practically having to scream into her ear, that you were going to find a bathroom. you navigate through the hallways, not surprised that it isn't insanely packed like other parties. the sorority girls don't invite as many people as the frat houses do.

you head up the stairs and use the first open bathroom you find, glad that its so clean unlike some of the other ones you've used at parties.

you make eye contact with a man you don't recognize as you exit, causing you to quickly rush down the stairs. the university isn't that small, so it's strange and almost jarring to see an unfamiliar face.

“hey, taylor!” you call out, looping arms with her once you reach the living room, hoping being with your friend would dissuade the man from talking to you, but it clearly doesn't work when he comes up, a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“hey gorgeous.” he reaches his hand out. “im mike.”

“hi mike.” you say politely, but don't reach out to shake his hand. “i have a boyfriend.”

“damn.” he looks around. “i don't see him though.”

“he's around.” you mumble, not wanting this random persistent guy to think that you're here alone. “just giving me some space to dance with my girls.”

“if he's giving you space for your girls, how about for me too?” mike smirks, reaching out towards your waist, but you manage to step back in time before his fingers graze you, taylor in tow.

“hey, she said she had a boyfriend, why don't you just leave her alone?” taylor pipes up, and suddenly mikes eyes turn from friendly to heated, anger overtaking his expression.

“don't think i was talking to you, bitch.” he grunts out, making both of you gasp.

“what did you just call the lady?” a voice rings out from behind mike, and you let out a sigh of relief as he turns and comes face to face with rafe.

mike goes to respond, probably continuing to argue or to tell rafe to piss off, but before his words can leave his mouth, rafe decks him straight in the jaw.

you expected the punch, so you knew to move out of the way as mike falls backwards. he's an inch or so taller than rafe, but with rafes surprise and muscles, mike has no chance as your boyfriend pounces on him, making sure his face will tell the story of his behavior for the next couple weeks.

you watch with wide eyes as rafe punches him. it's not the first time you've seen rafe beat anyone up, but it's been a while, his behavior so different in college than it is when he's in the outer banks.

“okay, okay.” you pull at rafe when it's clear mike can't take much more. rafe pulls away, his eyes suddenly softening, cupping your cheeks in his warm hands. he presses a kiss to your lips as his thumbs swipe over your skin.

“are you okay baby?”

“yeah.” you nod. “im fine, promise.”

“and you're alright taylor?” rafe asks. he's become the honorary defender of all of your friends, especially the single ones who he considers it his duty to protect just as much as you.

“im alright, thanks rafe.” taylor smiles at him in relief, corners of her mouth only raising higher as mike groans on the floor. you'd be worried about her reaction to him if it wasn't for everyone knowing that rafe only has eyes for you. a few girls tried to get with him when you first moved from the outer banks, but rafe made it very clear that he wasn't interested.

“oh my god, thank god you got here fast.” katie says to rafe, joining the group. “i texted him the second that guy came up to you, he just gave me terrible vibes.”

“you were definitely right for doing that.” rafe says. “now how about i get you ladies home?”

your friends nod as rafe wraps his arm around your shoulder, leading everyone out of the house. he makes polite conversations with the girls as he walks them home before continuing the couple feet back to your house.

the second rafe gets you inside, door locked tight behind you, the tension leaves his body and he lets out a deep sigh.

“it's okay, im home.” you rub your hands over his shoulders. “im safe.”

“i know.” rafe pulls you into his chest, needing to feel you. he presses kisses to the top of your head. “but you know im not gonna let you have any more girl nights, right?”

you let out a giggle. “i don't think any of the girls will mind if i haul you along with me.”

“better not.” rafe smirks as you look up at him.

you grin up at him. “our protector.”

taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland

1K notes · View notes

spectersgirl · 7 months

Note

what if harvey specter’s wife worked from home and has a last minute work emergency, so harvey had to take their daughter to work? hope that made sense 😭.

I loved this prompt! I changed it eeeever so slightly but it doesn't affect the overall product. I'm working on making these longer which does mean that it'll take me longer between posts but I'm hoping length makes up for it?? Or maybe this is too long. Idk. I've been writing it for daysssss. I think I don't love the end quarter or so, but I wanted to get it out there. Also I decided to name the daughter, I'm not sure how I feel about doing that versus just using Y/D/N so let me know what you all think? I'd use a different name each time I wrote something with a daughter in it so that it doesn't feel like a series or the same character in different universes.

-----

Work with Dad

Harvey Specter x Reader (except you're barely in it lol)

You rolled over at the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand, fumbling for it and answering sleepily.

"Hello? Oh shit, okay I'm on my way." Immediately, you got up and began rushing around to get ready.

"Who's that?" Harvey mumbled, having woken up to your call.

"Work, there's an emergency and I have to go take care of it. I know you have to work but, I can't take Olivia with me to the restaurant and my parents work today... Do you think you could bring her with you?"

Harvey sighed, knowing you were right. It would be easier for him to bring the four-year-old with him to his office as opposed to the very high-end restaurant you ran. Normally on the days you worked away from the house Olivia was in preschool, but today wasn't a school day for her.

"Yeah, that's fine. I have a pretty easy day today, and it's been a while since she's seen everyone anyway." He said, getting out of bed himself and heading to take a shower.

You quickly yelled to him before you left, thanking him for taking one for the team.

Once Harvey finished his shower, he pulled a suit from the closet and put the dress shirt and pants on, opting to leave his suit jacket off for now, knowing he'd likely have to do some wrangling of a certain toddler. As he had this thought, tiny footsteps sounded down the hall toward the bedroom.

"Hi Daddy" Said the tiny voice of his daughter as she ran toward him, arms in the air.

"Good morning princess! How'd you sleep?" He asked, lifting her with ease and kissing her cheek.

"Good, where's Mama?" She asked, knowing the two of you normally got ready together each morning. She was pretty damn smart for her age, and Harvey knew this fact would get him into trouble someday.

"Mama had to go take care of something at work, but guess what? You get to spend the day with Daddy at the firm!" He told her excitedly, raising his eyebrows.

Olivia was hesitant at first, she didn't know exactly what it was that her dad did every day, but she saw him on his computer a lot, and that didn't seem very exciting to her. She was about to protest this, but then she remembered some of her most favorite people worked with her dad.

"Can we see Mike and Rachel?" She asked.

Harvey laughed, nodding.

"And Donna?"

"And Donna." He confirmed with a smile. "You wanna get dressed so we can go see them?"

Immediately, she began squirming to get down from his grasp. Harvey obliged, following the girl to her room to help her pick out an outfit. She eventually elected for her favorite pink dress with flowers, and Harvey approved, finding her a pair of shoes to match.

A short while later, Harvey and Olivia were headed up to the Pearson Specter offices. She couldn't stop talking about how excited she was to see everyone, and Harvey had to keep reminding her that they had work to do and that they might not be able to be with her as much as she had hoped. Harvey had packed a day's worth of activities in a backpack to keep the little girl occupied in his office, and hopefully out of everyone else's business.

The elevator doors opened, and Olivia nearly pulled Harvey's arm out of the socket trying to get to her favorite people as fast as she could. He scooped her up into his arms, foiling her plans. She adorably crossed her arms in frustration, making Harvey chuckle as he walked toward his office.

"We just have to drop our stuff off in Dad's office first, then we can go see your friends, okay baby?"

She agreed, understanding that the quicker she cooperated, the quicker she got what she wanted.

Harvey put all their stuff down in a small pile on the couch in his office, telling himself he'd deal with it later. He knew Donna wouldn't be in for a little longer as he was earlier today than he normally was, but Mike and Rachel were more than likely already hard at work.

"Alright princess, wanna go see Mike?"

Her eyes went so wide Harvey thought they'd pop out of her head. He laughed and opened his door, pointing down the hall and following as she ran ahead of him. She nearly missed his door she was going so fast, but stopped herself when she noticed him seated at his desk.

"Knock before you go in, Liv" Harvey reminded the girl, grinning when her tiny fist tapped the glass of Mike's office door.

He looked up, not seeing her at first and waving Harvey in and looking back down at his stack of papers.

"You're in early, something wrong?" "MIKE!!!" Olivia yelled, startling the junior partner before realizing what was going on.

"Livi! How's my favorite Specter?" He asked, getting out of his chair to lift her into a bear hug.

She giggled uncontrollably until he set her back down.

"Well, I'd be offended but she happens to be pretty cool, so I'll let you have that." Harvey said, grinning as he watched his daughter run in circles around Mike's office while he chased her. There wasn’t much space in the junior partner's office, so the chase didn’t last very long.

"Where's Rachel?" Olivia wondered out loud. Mike kneeled down to her level.

"Rachel has school in the mornings, so she won't be here for a little bit longer." Mike explained, but this only confused her further.

"But... isn't Rachel a grown-up?" She asked, making Harvey and Mike smile.

"She's in law school, baby. Some grown-ups go to extra school so they can do their special jobs. Daddy went to law school too, and Mama went to business school and cooking school." Harvey explained.

“Did Mike to go extra school?” Olivia asked

Harvey and Mike share a look before looking back at Olivia.

“Mike’s a long story.” Harvey said.

Olivia seemed to be satisfied, or she stopped caring about his answer. Either way, she nodded and continued laughing and playing with Mike while her dad stood off to the side, only a little offended that she hardly even remembered he was still standing there.

He looked down at his watch, noting the time and figuring Donna was probably at her desk by now.

"Liv, do you want to go see if we can find Donna?" Harvey asked, and the little girl screamed like she was at a Taylor Swift show, jumping up and down with pure glee.

"Did she get this excited to see me?" Mike asked. Harvey chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not even close, sorry Mike. C'mon kid, let's go" Harvey said, lifting Olivia high in the air and onto his shoulders, holding tightly as he walked.

"Oh Donna, I have a surprise for you," Harvey said over the sounds of his daughter's laughter.

"Well, I wonder what the surprise could be! Hmmm, is it a pony? Oh a pony wouldn’t fit in the elevator… Maybe you should give me a hint." She said facetiously, acting as if she had no idea Olivia was there.

"It's me!" Olivia yelled, unable to keep the ‘surprise’ of her presence in any longer.

"Oh it’s Olivia! Hi beautiful! That’s a way better surprise than a pony!" Donna exclaimed. "How'd you get so lucky to come to work with your dad?"

"Her mama had a work emergency so daddy got to take her in with him, huh Liv?" Harvey explained, and Donna nodded in understanding.

Olivia nodded, smiling down at both Donna and her dad, still up high on his shoulders. She reached her arms toward Donna, so Harvey lowered her to the floor. Donna quickly scooped her up and placed her on her hip, giving the girl hugs and exaggerated cheek kisses.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, who let you get so big?”

Olivia pointed at Harvey, smiling happily.

“Umm no ma’am, I specifically told you to stop growing, if it were up to me you’d still be my tiny little baby.” Harvey said, poking her side playfully. She giggled, pushing his hands away with her tiny ones.

"Have you had fun so far Livi?" Donna asked, and Olivia smiled and nodded profusely.

"I ran down the hall soooo fast and Mike chased me in his office and then me and Daddy found you!"

"Wow Olivia! That sounds like a really cool morning!" A voice said from behind. Everyone turned to see none other than Jessica strutting down the hall.

Harvey knew Jessica wouldn’t particularly love the idea of his four year old daughter hanging around in his office all day, but he also knew there was nothing else he could do. He was a parent above anything else, so he was going to do what he had to do.

“Livi, do you remember Jessica?” Harvey asked.

Olivia nodded, a bright smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again cutie” Jessica said with a smile of her own.

“Look I know you’re probably mad but-“

“Harvey relax, I’m not mad. Just as long as she doesn’t get into anything she shouldn’t, she's welcome here." Jessica stated, easing Harvey's mind. He nodded in understanding and watched as she walked back to her office.

"Alright Liv, I've got some work to do in my office and I brought you some fun stuff to do while I work. Maybe later we can come back out and see Donna if she's not too busy, alright?"

Olivia huffed in disappointment, but she knew better than to fight with her dad. He placed his hands out to grab her from Donna, who regrettably handed her over. She had known the little girl since before she was even born, and she loved her like she was her own blood.

Harvey was actually able to get some work done, and Olivia enjoyed her time coloring in her coloring books and playing with the toys her dad had packed for her. Soon enough, she was hungry for lunch and Harvey took her into the kitchen to retrieve the lunchable he had brought her. Eventually, she grew tired and ready for her nap. When Harvey looked over at his couch after a suspiciously long period of silence, he saw her fast asleep. He smiled, standing and taking his suit jacket off, draping it over her small frame. She napped this way for about an hour, and when she woke up, she was overjoyed to learn that Rachel had finally come to the office.

"Rachel!!!" Olivia yelled in the doorway of Rachel's office, and she was quick to run in for a hug.

"Livi! Hi cutie! I heard you were here today, I couldn't wait to get done with school so I could see you!" Rachel said as she scooped the little girl up for a big hug. Olivia wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck happily.

"Do you have fun at big girl school?" Olivia asked.

"Law school is very different from normal school, so it's a lot harder, but it's what I love doing so that makes it fun!" Rachel explained.

"Do you get to color there?"

"No, theres no coloring. There's lots of reading and talking to other students and learning though!"

"I think I like my school better, we get to color and play and sing!"

This made Rachel laugh, and nod her head.

"Keep it that way as long as you can girly." Rachel said.

"Liv, it's almost time to go home. You wanna come say goodbye to everyone?" Harvey interrupted from the doorway.

Olivia nodded sadly, crossing the room to take her father's outstretched hand.

"Bye Rachel, have fun in big girl school."

"I will, bye Livi"

Harvey led her back through the office, stopping at everyone's offices so she could say her goodbyes, stopping at Donna's desk last. She gave the red-haired woman the biggest hug she could, Donna was her most favorite person after all.

When Olivia got home, she was thrilled to find her mom was there waiting for her and Harvey with dinner in the oven. She couldn't resist telling her mother about every last detail of her thrilling day at her dad's job.

"Well that's exciting! It sounds like you were a good little employee for daddy" You mused, looking up at Harvey with a grin.

"She's the best damn paralegal I've ever had. Might just have to hire her" Harvey joked.

"Does that mean I have to go to big girl school? That sounds really not fun."

You and Harvey laughed.

"Baby, if you don't want to go to big girl school we can talk about that when you're older." You reassured.

"You think with that attitude she has she won't want to be a lawyer like her old man?" Harvey said, smirking.

"Oh, she'll want to be in debate before she hits high school."

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #suits #request #requests open

459 notes · View notes

flanaganfilm · 11 months

Note

Hey Mike, I’ve really enjoyed reading your long posts on projects you’ve worked on through your career. I was wondering if you could talk a little about your experience in film school and making your student films. I was able to watch Ghosts of Hamilton Street a while ago and found it really interesting how some of the same themes in that film have been consistent through all of your work and have really liked seeing the progression and progress you’ve made in your stories since. Thanks!

Oh wow, deep pull here. I don't often talk about these movies, which I think of as the "Towson Trilogy."

They were amazing learning experiences, but aren't really fit for public consumption. I consider them an incredible, irreplaceable film school, but I've gone out of my way to not to help them become available - they just aren't on a level that I'd feel comfortable putting out into the world.

So let's go back to 1998.

I was an undergrad at Towson University in Maryland. I had dreamed of being a filmmaker for most of my childhood, and had made a few backyard movies on VHS with friends, and some VHS shorts in high school. But the idea of a career in filmmaking was very farfetched. My father was in the U.S. Coast Guard and my mother was a medical office manager. They were always very supportive of my little "movie projects," but also very much invested in my education and wanted me to focus on careers that were more likely. A career making movies seemed very, very unrealistic, and I spent my senior year of High School focusing on coming up with a "real job" I could get passionate about. As I graduated High School, I had let go of the filmmaking dream and was hoping to get enough scholarship money so I could afford to go to Loyola University Maryland, where I wanted to major in secondary education.

I was going to be a high school history teacher.

I didn't get enough scholarship money to attend Loyola, so I ended up enrolling at Towson University (then called Towson State) instead. I was initially very disappointed by this outcome, but it turned out to be one of the best things that happened in my life.

I was still planning on following the education track, but I felt discouraged and bruised by missing out on Loyola. So as I filled out my freshman electives, I signed up for Intro to Film on a lark. I mean, my hopes and dreamed hadn't panned out. I didn't get into my first choice school (or my second, for that matter) and here I was.

Why not?

It was immediately clear to me that this was what I wanted to do with my life. It was what I'd always wanted to do, if I was honest - I had been making all of those little movies, I lived and breathed movies, I had been saying since I was kid that I wanted to make movies for a living, and here was my chance to learn more about that world. I was hooked immediately. I started to ignore my other classes in favor in spending more time in the Mass Communications department (there wasn't an official "film" major at Towson); so what if this wasn't a "real job," so what if I didn't have a chance in hell of being a professional filmmaker... I had access to cameras. That meant I could make movies.

This happened to coincide with an exciting time in independent filmmaking. Spike Lee, Edward Burns, Kevin Smith, Jim Jarmusch - we would talk excitedly about the rumored budget of Robert Rodriguez's El Mariachi (everyone said it was just seven thousand bucks!), we would talk between classes about the filmmakers who were forging careers out of thin air on shoestring budgets. People were breaking the rules, and bucking the system. Careers were being made on one rogue film. They weren't climbing the ladder; they were suing for membership. Make a movie, then make a career. Independent Film was the way in. The odds might be against you, but if your number came up... man, you were on your way.

I had a substitute teacher in one of my film classes. His name was Steve Yeager and he'd just won the filmmaker's trophy at Sundance for his documentary about local hero John Waters, a movie called Divine Trash. He was the toast of Baltimore at the time, and he spoke breathlessly about the independent filmmakers who were leading the charge and finding audiences outside of the studio system. He told the students that any of us could do this - any of us could make a movie, especially using this brand new technology called:

DIGITAL VIDEO.

Steve argued that DV had democratized filmmaking, and cited filmmakers like Mike White, whose DV feature Chuck and Buck had just hit the festival scene. Dogme 95, the creative movement founded by the Danish directors Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg, was the talk of all the cinephiles. Not only could we make a movie, Steve declared, we could make it for a fraction of the cost that most filmmakers had had to bear over the years when dealing with purchasing and processing film.

I had been inspired by movies like Clerks, The Brothers McMullen, and Stranger Than Paradise - I was working on my own script, a slice of life story called Makebelieve, which was focused on the only slice of life I knew anything about: a college kid,,, who loved movies... and... had a crush on a girl.

You write what you know, I guess.

Now, our little Mass Comm program at Towson was a great way to get experience making movies, but we made them as part of a group. The best case scenario was waiting until you were an upperclassman and hoping you'd be able to direct a short film with your classmates, but most students never got their turn directing. Some students would labor through the department for four years but never sit in a director's chair when the senior projects came around. I was too impatient to wait for that. I wanted to be like Kevin Smith, Mike White and Ed Burns - I wanted to make my movie, my way, right now.

I was actively averse to commercial viability (an allergy it took me far too long to overcome), utterly enamored with the emerging mumblecore "indie film" vibe of the time, and convinced that a movie comprised of extended conversations about collegiate dating would make for riveting entertainment. I had several friends in the Theater Department, enlisted the help of my roommate Dave Foster, and pretty soon we were doing table reads and shooting proof-of-concept trailers on miniDV.

Raising money for the movie was a huge challenge. A girlfriend had managed to get ahold of Bruce Campbell's email (it was the worst-kept secret on the fledgling internet at the time), and I emailed him to invite him to be part of our little movie. He actually wrote back - he declined participation (for reasons that are astonishingly obvious to me now) but was kind enough to send some advice for the production. We were so grateful he took the time to respond that we named our production company after our favorite line from Army of Darkness... we were Sugarbaby Productions.

Steve Yeager, my substitute teacher, had told the class "if any of you write a feature film, I will do what I can to help you produce it." I came up to him after class and handed him the script for Makebelieve. He looked a little shocked, but he agreed to read the script. He did, and he liked it, and for reasons I may never understand, he said "okay, fine. I'll produce your movie."

Steve was true to his word. He didn't bring money (it would have been certifiably insane if he had), but he used his connections to find a crew of professionals in Baltimore willing to work on a little college movie. We had fundraisers, we had bake sales, we sold T-shirts on campus to raise cash to shoot. We hit up every family member and friend for possible investment (my parents, to their endless credit, put up more money than they could afford), and we scraped together enough to shoot the thing.

We filmed Makebelieve on miniDV in over the summer of 1999. The University gave us access to its facilities to use for locations, we had the run of campus, and our tiny cast and crew received independent study credit for their participation in the film.

The technology wasn't quite the amazing godsend people had made it out to be. It was low resolution, there was not yet anything that allowed you to change frame rate; everything still had that "soap opera" feeling you get with 30 fps.

We compensated for this by emulating a Hal Hartley film I'd seen at festival called Book of Life, which had opted for a slower shutter speed to give the film a dreamy, smeary look that hid the frame rate. We shot at a 1/15s shutter speed, and the movie looked a bit like an acid trip... but at least it didn't move like a soap opera.

The finished movie... well, it's not very good.

It was my first feature, it wasn't really about much of anything, but it had some fun dialog and a truly committed young cast. It had promise. And we finished the thing! That was the biggest miracle. It was the best film school I could ever hope for - a trial by fire that pulled me through each and every phase of production and forced me to learn on the job.

The film was rejected by every single major film festival - my dreams of being the next Sundance breakout auteur were dashed very quickly. But we had our world premiere at the Maryland Film Festival in 2000, to a sold out crowd, and that was the single biggest night of my young life up until that point.

I was completely hooked. I knew the film was deeply flawed, and I was eager for another at-bat - I knew I could do better.

I wouldn't wait long. I had already written a script for an "edgy" follow-up to Makebelieve called Still Life. It was "edgy" because it featured a more nihilistic plot, about a group of photography majors who begin exploiting elements of their lives for their senior thesis project, and in doing so get disconnected from their lives by examining them through lenses (Get it?! Man, I sure was a film student, wasn't I)

I had gone through a bad breakup after Makebelieve was done, an engagement that had ended and broken my young heart. Frankly, we were just babies - I really had no business whatsoever trying to get married at 21 - but I wrote that breakup into the script and let the bitterness rip. Edgy, right?

I used most of the same cast from Makebelieve (thus beginning a habit that still holds true today) and set about trying to find money to make the film.

The issue was how to raise money. We had already knocked on every door to finance Makebelieve and nobody got their money back; the movie never sold. Investing in independent films is one of the highest risk investments you can make. We'd turned over every single rock we could think of last time, how the hell were we going to do that again?

We courted more investors, including some professional risk takers and VC people. An accountant named Harry Rosen drummed up a bunch of investors in exchange for a role in the film (he played the grandfather of one of the leads). This movie had more money than the last, and it wasn't from friends and family by and large - it was from people who were giving and expecting much more.

We shot Still Life in the summer of 2000, just after Makebelieve had premiered (even then, I couldn't wait for one movie to come out before starting another). It was a more ambitious shoot across the board. And again, it was a phenomenal learning experience. And again, the movie wasn't quite... good.

The first cut was 180 minutes long. Yep, 180. The Final Cut is... 75 mins long. So... yeah, it was probably a few drafts undercooked.

It was indulgent, it was uneven, and it was spectacularly self-important. But it got into some more festivals - quite a few more than Makebelieve -and it even won some awards.

See, the rise of digital video meant an avalanche of digital movies. It had democratized filmmaking after all - suddenly, the sheer volume of submissions at film festivals increased by a factor of ten. And with that many thousands of extra movies flooding the festival market, the laws of supply and demand kicked in - there were suddenly a LOT more film festivals.

And there were film festivals who weren't terribly scrupulous. There were festivals who only existed to collect submissions fees, and they'd accept movies that otherwise would never have made it into a fest, so long as they thought they could make some money of the filmmakers. Some of the fests we played back then soon became notorious for running these kinds of scams. But it wasn't nearly as difficult to get into festivals as it once was... and it wasn't nearly as difficult to win awards.

One of the festivals we were accepted into was in Los Angeles, and I came out to LA for the first time in my life for the screening. While here, I started making plans to move to California. It seemed impossible, daring, and crazy at the time - I had no money, my movie had some laurels on the poster but wasn't commercially viable - and I had no idea how to pull it off. But I decided then, walking around Santa Monica late one night after a screening: as soon as I graduated from Towson, I'd move to LA.

But it turned out graduation was a long ways off.

Still Life took up an enormous amount of time, and I fell behind on my studies. The film never did find a distributor. It played a few dozen fests (some of which were downright predatory) and then it was over.

Itching to keep shooting stuff but certainly out of fundraising options, I ended up part of a startup production company consisting of a recent grad and another student at Towson, and we actually got a couple industrial jobs around Baltimore. I took a semester off to focus on the work. Graduation got pushed back. And then I took another semester off when more gigs came in. I finally graduated in May 2002, two years later than I'd planned. My production company had gone bust (we had no idea what we were doing) but we did some good commercial and industrial work and I got some experience trying to manage a business.

I had also wised up in one very important respect: I had kept writing scripts this whole time (you really can't help it, if you're a writer) and I had finally decided to embrace GENRE.

I had written a script called Ghosts of Hamilton Street. On the outside, it looked like an episode of The Twilight Zone; the plot centered around a washed-up alcoholic who starts to notice people in his life disappearing without a trace... but whenever one of them goes, the world around him completely rewrites itself as though they never existed at all.

I thought I was starting to play with genre conventions, doing a light sci-fi story that would be fun and character-forward. What I was really doing, though, was dealing with the fact that a lot of my closest friends from college had graduated on time, two years before me, and gone out into their adulthoods. I missed them, and I felt that my world was altered with each of their absences. I was starting to get introspective.

This was about something. It was about regret, it was transition, it was about losing one's comfortable world and heading into the unknown. It was about my regret for my failed engagement (and my exploitation of it for Still Life), and about the friends who had gone ahead into adulthood without me. It was also, I realize now, about having a drinking problem. I wouldn't really understand this, or take any action to fix it, for fifteen more years.

For now, I just knew this one felt a little different. It had an engine. I had something to talk about for the first time in my filmmaking career. This one wasn't a class project, just fumbling around with the technical realities of production; this had a tiny, infant, unformed little voice in there. It was small, it was buried, but it was there.

So how could we finance it?

Okay. You're not going to believe this, but it's true... I've never really talked about this publicly before, but it's the truth so here goes:

A good friend of mine, a fellow student at Towson, was hit one night by a Papa Johns delivery car while crossing the street. He settled with the company and came into a lot of money. He invested some of that to finance Ghosts, and... well... that's how we did it.

Yep, you read that right: my third feature was financed because a friend of mine got hit by a pizza delivery guy. So when people ask me what advice I have for fundraising, unless I say "start shoving your friends in front of delivery vehicles", I'm being a bit of a hypocrite.

My friend was now a bonafide executive producer, and he was walking normally again, so we were off to make a movie!

It was a modest budget compared to the sprawling mess that was Still Life, but the digital video technology had advanced - we were now shooting in 24p, and for the first time in my career, my little digital features actually moved like a movie.

Again, the cast brought back some familiar faces from Makebelieve and Still Life. We held auditions for the other parts.

One of the fellow Towson students who auditioned for a role was a girl I knew tangentially from the theater department. She was much closer to my roommate Paul Jerue, who was working on the movie too, but she'd been over my place a few times and we'd hung out here and there.

Her name was Amy Schumer, and I remember her audition very well. I didn't give her a part in this movie. I remember telling the producers I thought she was too funny for it. She was quite funny, in fact. I think she's also now the most famous person to come out of Towson University.

Somewhat ironically, there aren't a lot of photographs from this period of my life, because I didn't have a digital camera. Everything was on film, and just about all of those shots are lost to time.

But there are a few leftover from Ghosts that I'll share here - I've used my phone to snap some pics of pages from a single surviving scrapbook:

(Holy god, I actually had hair...)

Ghosts of Hamilton Street isn't a bad movie. It had taken me years of work, but I had finally made something that wasn't bad. They say your first ten movies are gonna suck, so get them out of the way early... maybe I was a little ahead of schedule after all.

Even though I had graduated just before we shot it, I still consider it a student film. It was shot in and around campus, utilizing equipment from the school, and the cast and crew were comprised of students and graduates (a lot of the cast were returning actors from Makebelieve and Still Life).

The star of the movie was a student who was ahead of me by a year named Scott Graham. I loved working with him, and I loved what he did with this movie.

(The great Scott Graham, three years before the Oculus short)

Three years later, he would fly himself out to LA from Washington DC in order to star in a short film I'd make in Los Angeles called Oculus.

(Filming Oculus - Chapter 3: the Man with the Plan in 2005)

Looking back, I think of Ghosts of Hamilton Street as my first movie. The other two were just class projects, really, and I was throwing spaghetti against the wall. But this one... it features an ambitious 90 second oner in the middle of the movie that competently tracks Scott through a bewildering office environment. It's a good shot.

It uses its genre moments as extensions of character, and is not concerned with scares or set pieces. It's metaphorical, whereas the other two movies were literal.

And it ends on a monologue.

As far as film festivals, it actually did okay. We screened at a few dozen places, and even traveled with the film. It won some more awards at some reputable festivals. And that winter, just after its premiere, when I packed the moving van to go to LA, I brought 100 DVD copies with me, hoping it would kickstart my career in Hollywood.

It wouldn't; that would happen ten years later, with Oculus. And when I filmed the Oculus feature, Scott Graham - star of Ghosts of Hamilton Street, and star of the Oculus short - played the janitor at the auction house where the mirror was kept.

And the two police officers who arrest Brenton Thwaites at the end of the film? Zak Jeffries, star of Makebelieve, Still Life, and Ghosts, and Dave Foster, my freshman year roommate, who worked crew on every film I made - even the little 8mm shorts - in Towson.

Nat Roers, who starred in Makebelieve and Still Life and was also my roommate for the last two years of college, appears as a jogger in Absentia, Dash Mihok's doomed wife in Before I Wake and as a reporter in Gerald's Game.

My professor at Towson who encouraged me to make all of these movies, and helped every way he could, was a man named Tom Brandau. He acted in Ghost of Hamilton Street, but he also was running the Fargo Film Festival in 2011, and he invited us to host the world premiere of Absentia at the festival. He also sat with me at the monitor for a week while we filmed The Haunting of Hill House, and for several days at the Overlook while we shot Doctor Sleep. He passed away a few years ago, and I miss him terribly.

As for Steve Yeager, the substitute teacher who dared us to make a movie my freshman year, and then put his money where his mouth was and produced my first digital feature a year later - Steve was also on set for Gerald's Game and for Doctor Sleep, and we went out for a beer to celebrate after a long shoot day. I quit drinking before that movie wrapped, so I believe it may have been one of the last beers I ever had, and I'm so glad I got to share it with Steve, who took this pie-eyed kid from his class and told him he could be a filmmaker.

My roommates when I moved out to LA were Ghosts star Zak Jeffries, Ghosts producer Jeff Seidman, crew members Amy Winter (soon to be Amy Seidman), Joe Wicker and Gaby Chavez.

In a way, all of these people were the foundation that started it all. I actively hate Netflix's lame "Flanaverse" idea, but if there was a Flanaverse, these were the people who built it. Scott Graham, Zak Jeffries, Dave Foster, Nat Roers, Jamie Sinsz, Megan Anderson, Steve Yeager, Jeff Seidman, Amy Seidman, Will Pinkine, Rich Koeckert, Jessi Bounelis, Chris Cridler, Sarah Yarbrough, Kara Webb, Kerry Brady, Joe Wicker, Gaby Chavez and Tom Brandau.

They were ride or die, man.

I think back on that time now and laugh. What a deal we made about digital video... I remember scraping together $2,000 to buy a 9 GB hard drive to edit - yes, I said NINE GIGABYTES.

I think about all of those dreamers out there today who have a 4k camera with 256 GB (or more) IN THEIR POCKET.

Yep, you've got a camera in your pocket that is infinitely more powerful than the cameras I filmed the first four features of my career on. Anyone who says they want to be a filmmaker and aren't sure how to start... I mean, take that thing out of your pocket and SHOOT SOMETHING. You are so, so, so ahead of the game.

So thank you for asking the question, and sorry for the long post. What I will always remember about that time was just how wildly, recklessly, adorably foolish we were... and how if we hadn't been, I might not have a career at all.

I made three independent feature films in my twenties, and another in my thirties, and while I don't think most of them are ultimately worthy of an audience, they were the best education I ever could have hoped for. I made them with dear friends, some of whom have remained in my life and heart to this day, and all of whom I owe an enormous debt.

My favorite thing? The title of the first one.

Makebelieve.

Because man, we were kids. Everything about that word is whimsy, innocence, and naivety. It's not a perfect movie; in fact, it isn't even a good one.

But that is a perfect, perfect title.

#memories #film school #towson university #make believe #still life #independent film

195 notes · View notes

fandomwritingbit · 10 months

Note

Okay what about one where there reader is Michael's new (hot) art teacher and William is just "Michael you need to join the art club immediately" or "well I GUESS if the pta needs help with the spring art festival -"

Hello! This has too so long I'm sorry 😶 Uh I hope this is what kind of thing you were looking for, thank you so much for the request.

Side note it took me so long to figure out what pta was lmao

So,

art teacher (gn)reader x william afton (sfw)

"Well, I'm happy to let you know that Michael is doing really well in my class. He's an absolute pleasure to teach." You smile, looking from the father to the son. The resemblance was more than evident, but their attitudes were opposites, Michael sat as he always did, hunched forward, his hands twisted together, he was scarcely able to hold your eyes for more than a few seconds. His father though took up a lot of room in his chair, his posture reeking of easy confidence and he had no difficulty looking at you. It was moments like this that you could learn a lot about a student’s home life and it was abundantly clear that these two weren’t so close.

"But?" Mr Afton prompted, his tone jovial. He was beginning to understand why his son likes art so much. A lovely thing like you leading the class? Who could blame him? He'd expected some old lady wearing well too many scarfs, glasses on a pearled chain around her neck, not someone like you.

"But,” You can’t help but smile, heat rising to your cheeks, “as I'm sure you've learnt from his other teachers tonight, currently Michael might struggle to meet the entry requirements of universities." As you spoke, you had to work hard to keep your thoughts on track, this man was attractive in a way you didn't expect. He smirked when you paused, and you forced your gaze on Mike. "But as I said to Michael before, we've got plenty of options to boost grades."

Michael spoke up, "Need to join a club or something."

Nodding, you turn to explain why to Mr Afton. "Yeah, certain enrichments can be graded. I'm advocating the art club… He'd get the opportunity to make a portfolio, which Unis love, and I have no doubt he'd excel." The man before you looked bemused, his eyes flicking up from your lanyard to your eyes.

"And, do you run the art club?"

You grin a little embarrassed, "Yeah, I do-"

The dad chuckles and looks to Mike offhandedly, "Then you should absolutely join." To which he rolls his eyes, partly at his father’s blatant flirting and at the lack of enthusiasm at joining your club.

Mike sighs, "Yeah okay, I'll go."

"Smashing. I'll put you on my register." You pull out the document from your lever-arch folder and quickly jot his name down. Whilst doing so, the man opposite you watches your left hand for a ring and on seeing there wasn't one, smirks from ear to ear.

Once done, you quickly put your hands out in an attempt to stop them from leaving, "Uh, before you go. I'm really sorry to ask, but we're holding an art festival next week and I'm struggling to find some help... would you be willing to lend a hand?'' You automatically feel guilty for asking. Doing so in person put a lot more pressure than a general email, but you were hoping to almost force him. Like you’d tried to with every other parent tonight.

You catch Michael’s expression, you’d asked him the other day if he had anyone that would want to help out and he’d laughed a little, “Uh no, not really.” he’d said. You do feel like you’ve gone behind his back a bit, but if you can’t get a few more pairs of hands this festival is going to fall on its arse.

He sat back in the chair, his feet poking out at your side of the desk, "A festival? What exactly would you have me doing?"

You smile, pleasantly surprised that he was obliging you, "Mainly the setup, it's a lot of stuff to move out to the green. Though of course all-day help would be appreciated, I just don't want to push my luck."

"You already are," he smirks, "when is it?"

"Next Friday, the 19th." Your eyes go wide as you wait for his answer, all the other parents you’d asked tonight had told you that they were working on Friday, as people tend to do, and you have a feeling that he was about to say the same.

He hums, “Friday-” but is cut off by Michael,

“You work Fridays.” he states, a harsh tone on the words, making you think that he really didn’t want his dad to help you out.

Scoffing, he shoots his son a look, “Yeah I do.” Before turning his attention back to you, “But, I could skive it.” The expression on his face is hard to place, perhaps mischievous, or sly. Regardless, you panic slightly.

“Oh. No, you don’t have to do that, Mr Afton-”

He puts his hand out to silence you and it works, you bite your tongue instantly, “I know, but I will. It’s not exactly like I help out frequently.” He’d decided already, either because his son was clearly desperate for him not to do so, or because he’d like to spend a bit of time with you. Let's face it, it was both. And so, you were left with little option but to graciously accept, and you thank him.

As your student and his father leave, he shakes your hand. “Thank you, Mr Afton. You’ve really helped me out.” Both your hands encase his and it doesn’t occur to you that that is unusual until you do it, heat beneath your face. He flashes you a smirk that makes your blood ice, before nodding.

“It’s fine really. Should be fun.”

Friday was as manic as you had expected. The second you arrived at the college you were behind, the mass of stalls and pieces of art were absurd to move even with the three others you’d manage to recruit: the head of languages, Martin, a science teacher, Kris and of course, Mr Afton. Another parent was expected but dropped out last minute, adding to the workload. And the people in charge of the stalls and activities wouldn’t arrive until kick-off so to speak.

Surprisingly, Mr Afton was a godsend. Helping you drag the stall skeletons on to the field, well you dragged them, he rather easily picked them up, somehow managing the awkward height and weight without breaking a sweat.

“Now, you’re just showing off, Mr Afton.” you giggle, trying not to look at the way his arms flexed whilst he carried the objects. You can’t really help it though and try to steal what glimpses you can as the two of you lug 12 stalls outside. If you’d have known he was doing the same you probably would’ve dropped everything and made a fool of yourself, so mercifully he’s much slier with his staring than you are.

It’s only when you’re done with the moving, the two of you can start decorating, the other workers put on duty setting up the games, things like a ring toss and lucky-dip. You study him for a moment while he’s distracted tying the string of a line of bunting around a nail that probably shouldn’t be sticking out of the stalls, and good lord this man looks a lot like his son. Everything from the dark hair which probably wasn’t as neat as he’d left it this morning, to the shape of his brow, making his eyes look hooded and narrow. The difference was all attitude and experience. You have to glance away when you start thinking about his experience.

“Ooh what are you looking at? Am I doing it wrong?” he asks, bringing heat to your cheeks at the knowledge that he’d just caught you staring for way too long. He turned his head, looking down the sting, checking to see it wasn’t coming undone or tangled.

“No, sorry.” your smile hints at your embarrassment, “It just crossed my mind how much you look like your son, sorry.” God you hate the way you’re smiling just because he’s looking at you but it’s completely involuntary.

He smirks at that, “Well, I am fairly certain I’m his father.” his tone was playful despite the nature of what he was joking about. “I take it you don’t have any kids?”

“Uh no, no I don't. What gives that impression?”

“You look well rested.” he walks over to you and crouches down to look in a box at your feet, “And you’re smiling too much.”

You giggle, “I know.” You rub at your temples, “It’s a nervous thing.” The second you say that you question yourself why, what a weird thing- you feel so awkward. He’s just a man. An attractive man- yes. But just a tall… brooding… handsome… man.

“And here I was thinking you were just enjoying my company.” he sniggers, bringing you out of your head, it’s been a long time since a bloke had made you all skittish like this. He properly faces you now, searching your eyes. “What’s making you nervous?”

You, you internally answer, quickly thinking of a more appropriate response, “Just uh today. I have a feeling it’s going to be an absolute nightmare.” You drop your eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll manage.”

You briefly rest a hand on your forehead. “Got no choice really.”

He moves to walk past you but pauses, standing half behind you. “Well, I can stay and help out. If it’s not me that’s making you nervous?” he smirks as he moves away, his voice teasing, riling up some butterflies in your stomach.

He stays, and soon after the others arrive, students flogging their wares and local crafts aficionados, though you have them actually working, you don’t mind Mr Afton drifting around doing a bit here and there. As nice as you find him, he didn’t strike you as someone that would be happy to run a stall on his own.

Once everything has settled down and the festival is running smoothly, you allow yourself a moment of a break. He finds you sitting on a bench just off the green. There he takes a seat beside you, digging in his pocket for a packet of cigs.

“You can’t really smoke here, you know.” you laugh as he stops mid action, his lighter half raised.

He shrugs, reasoning “I’m outside.” resuming the act though now watching you for further reaction.

You fold your arms, a grin contradicting the seriousness. You’re well-aware that you weren’t going to stop him. “Still a college… I won’t tell on you though.”

He chuckles as he takes a drag on it. This was like a flashback to his youth, so he plays his part, “Good. No one likes a sprag.” Man, it’s been a long time since you’ve heard that.

You try to steal a glance at his left hand, wanting to triple check that he wasn’t wearing a ring. Not that you would say or do anything, you just need to know. Not seeing a wedding band wasn’t enough though and the question dances around inside your head.

You finally bite the bullet and spit it out. “You’re not married then, Mr Afton?” you gesture to his hand, to give him context to how you arrived at that. You’d tried to sound like you were making small talk but it failed miserably.

The mean laugh he lets slip is pure reflex. “No. Not anymore.”He wanted to tease you by asking why you wanted to know, but you’re already flustered and avoiding his direct gaze.

“So you’re uh…?” you hesitate to finish the question, realising you were jumping to a conclusion.

Thankfully he finishes it for you, “Divorced? Yeah.” He just loved how you smiled at him in relief there, the amusement evident on his face.

You try to explain why you fumbled that so badly, talking quickly, “Well. I didn't want to say divorced and get it wrong."

“In case…?”

God, your face is hot again, why can’t you just talk normal to this guy. “In case… you know… you were uh widowed or something.”

“Or something?” he questions again, trying not to laugh at how you were stumbling.

You put your head in your hands, laughing self-deprecatingly at yourself, “Leave me alone - I’m…”

“Nervous?”

“A little yeah.” you speak, your face still obscured. “I mean you’ve come and sat with me. I’m just curious why.”

You don’t need to look to feel the smirk on his face. “Maybe cos I wanted to.” You feel his movement on the bench and look up to catch his gaze, his head cocked to meet your eye line almost perfectly. “You’re pretty, you know. Even with your head in your hands.”

Your eyes open wide at his bluntness as you try and think of something to say in response. You’re starting to see why Michael was so desperate to keep him away.

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #fnaf william afton #michael afton #william afton x you #gn reader

126 notes · View notes

dancingtotuyo · 10 months

Text

The Life We Built (Joel Miller)

Part 5 of Build You The World Joel X Reader Rating: PG-13 (Language) Warnings: fluff, that's it. Tags: no outbreak, fluff, craftsman!Joel, Time jump, it's 2023 folks, no mentions of COVID, you decide if it happened Notes: So we've reached the end of this little adventure that was only supposed to be a one shot, but never fear! I have another Joel Miller idea in the works. Check out my Masterlist for some Javier Peña works as well! Thank you everyone for your support! Words: 1998

Series Master List | Author Master list

Joel eased into the chair next to you under the pergola he built 25 years ago. It was still sturdy and spoke to Joel’s craftsmanship. The sun was beginning to set, granting some relief to the spring heat as you watched your three grown children clean up the backyard. They’d insisted the two of you relax.

Emma graduated from Duke last weekend with honors in Pre-med. Which meant traveling to North Carolina for the ceremony. Joel has insisted on driving up. He hated flying. With a 20-hour car ride one way, you caught up on a lot of reading and almost booked yourself a plane ticket home. The two of you had been gone for almost a week. So her graduation party took place this weekend at home. She’d been accepted into UNC-Chapel Hill’s School of Medicine and would be going back to Durham in a couple of weeks. She was officially moving out, boxes already stacked high in her room. You and Joel both chose not to think about your baby leaving the nest for good.

Emma laughed at something Asher said. You couldn’t see Sarah roll her eyes, but you knew by her body language. Joel chuckled next to you. He sensed it too, both in tune with your children.

Asher graduated with a Bachelor's in Engineering from UT-Austin a few years ago, choosing to stay close to home. He had a small apartment in town working at Miller Construction since graduation. Joel joked that if he didn’t put his degree to use soon, he was gonna have to rebrand as Miller and Son. You had a sneaking suspicion that’s what Asher wanted. He and Joel shared the same love of building things with their hands.

“Grandpa!” Sarah’s 3-year-old daughter, Jessie bounded across the yard, dark curls bouncing like springs behind her. You could see the brightly colored book in her grasp.

She panted heavily as she reached the two of you. Her small hands rested on Joel’s knees. She looked up through dark lashes. “Will you read this to me?”

Joel smiled. She reminded you so much of Sarah at her age. “Don’t you want grandma to do it? She’s a much better reader than me.”

“No, you!”

“Okay, Okay.” Joel chuckled, pulling the child onto his lap. You closed your eyes as you listened to Joel read. His drawl had only deepened with age but it still flowed like honey. It soothed your weary bones and often brought you through time, making you feel 25 again.

Sarah had started college at the University of Georgia but transferred to UT-Austin after her freshman year. She loved Georgia, but she missed being close to her family more. She’d earned her Bachelor's in Journalism and Creative Writing (also with Honors). Working across all aspects of journalism, she went back to get her MFA several years later. She worked freelance for several publications and taught a creative writing class at the community college in town. She’d married Mike 6 years ago. They’d been together since senior year of college aside from a one-year gap. They’d bought a house just down the street from you and Joel soon after their wedding. Jessie’s 4th birthday was next week, and aside from her husband, you were the only other person to know that Sarah was 8 weeks pregnant. They were planning to reveal it next on Father’s Day.

You and Sarah were convinced Joel didn’t have a clue. The two of you were desperate to surprise him. Other than his 45th birthday party, you and Sarah hadn’t been able to surprise Joel in the 31 years you’d loved him. He’d even figured out Sarah’s first pregnancy before they’d told anyone.

Joel continued to read. The world drifted further away only anchored by the sound of his voice. Sometimes a bird’s song drifted in and out. The warm breeze floated across your skin. Joel’s voice stayed constant.

“Grandpa… Shhhhh, grandma is sleepin.”

Joel looked up from the book. He smiled. The wrinkles around his eyes were well-defined now. “I think she’s just restin her eyes, kiddo.”

“That’s what you say when you’re sleeping!” Jessie giggled.

“Keep reading,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. “The story was just getting good.”

He looked at Jessie who nodded her head, and he continued.

The construction business had been good to Joel. Miller Construction kept its outstanding reputation throughout the years, something Joel worried about as the number of crews grew and his ability to check up on every job decreased. Joel spent most of his days on job sites in a supervisory capacity. He trained the new hires to meet his rigid standards, and his body took less wear and tear. He was able to spend more quiet morning moments with you. At 56 years old, he was still the best pitcher in the men’s rec softball league. He took every Thursday morning off to hang out with Jessie while Sarah taught her class at the Community College. He piddled in the garage on weekends, working on the next project. He’d just redone the kitchen cabinets. Tommy joked that Joel lived in partial retirement, but there was some truth to it. You liked seeing him take time

Joel finished the book as Sarah and Mike walked over. You slowly opened your eyes, letting the world envelope you once again.

“It’s time for us to go home, Bear,” Mike said.

Before Jessie could issue a complaint, Joel pulled her into a back-breaking squeeze. She laughed. He tickled her sides. “Grandpa!”

“I gotta make sure you meet your tickle quota.”

“I have! I have!” Jessie laughed, her cheeks turning red.

“Okay,” Joel let out a deep breath. “I think that’s enough for today.”

Jessie wrapped her arms around Joel’s neck, kissing his cheek. “Love you, Grandpa!”

“I love you too.” He kissed her cheek, patting her back. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

Jessie slid off his lap, rushing to you. A chorus of goodbyes between parties rose in the corner of your backyard in hugs and handshakes. Jessie nestled into her father’s arms, eyes already beginning to droop.

Joel wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him. His hands traveled down your back, lips finding yours. You grinned feeling warm and giddy. Even after all these years, he still had the same effect on you.

Gagging noises interrupted your moment. Asher and Emma stood on the porch directing said sounds at you.

“Get a room!”

“We don’t want to see that!”

Joel flipped them off before firmly grabbing your ass making a show of the steamy kiss he planted on you. You laughed. He kissed your neck softly.

“You’re gonna traumatize the kids.”

“They’re grown adults. They can leave.” He nuzzled into your neck. “I want to kiss my wife in our backyard.”

“Y’all are gross.” Asher chided.

“If it weren’t for us, you two wouldn’t be here,” Joel shouted back.

“You say that like it’s a good thing!” Emma responded. “Have you seen the world?”

“Hey,” You laughed. “You’re the saving grace of this family, Miss I’m going to be a doctor.”

Asher scowled. “Don’t say that. Her head will get bigger than it already is.” He ruffled Emma’s hair.

Emma rolled her eyes. “We’re done cleaning up. We’ll leave you two to do… that.” She motioned toward you and Joel. “Asher’s gonna take me out on the town.”

“Make smart decisions,” Joel called.

“Always!” Emma smiled.

The duo filed out of the backyard leaving you and Joel alone. Joel kissed your forehead as you swayed to a nonexistent tune.

When you finally stopped, you and Joel sought the respite of AC inside. Joel prepared a plate of leftovers for the two of you to share on the couch. You read as Joel watched the Baseball game on low volume. You propped your feet on his lap. His thumbs found the soles of your feet applying pressure. You hummed.

You had stepped down from your position at Miller Construction after Emma started high school. As much as you loved working with Joel and helping him build and expand the business, desires drew you elsewhere. You started working part-time at the public library. When their head librarian announced plans to retire, the city had offered to pay for you to get your Masters in Library Science providing you could give them a 10-year commitment. Daunting at first, you’d managed to complete the courses in 2 years via an online program. You work at the library full-time now. Joel often brought Jessie in on Thursday mornings along with a coffee for you. You tended to the garden on weekends. Joel replaced your raised beds a few years ago. You had the kids over for dinner once a week. You and Sarah walked the block on pleasant evenings. You spent lazy evenings on the couch with Joel, something that had rarely been a part of your marriage until the past few years.

“I’ve been thinking…”

You looked up from your book. “Uh oh, that’s never good.”

He tickled the bottom of your foot earning a squeal. Everyone talked about growing out of being ticklish. That had never happened to you. “I think it’s probably time to refinish the book nook.”

You glanced behind you, eyes trailing over the bookshelves Joel had built you more than 25 years ago. They’d been through it. The finish was peeling in a few places. The cabinet doors that lined the bottom were dented and scratched from a number of things bumping and running into it while raising 3 kids. You glanced at the farthest one, still stained with faint marks from Emma taking Sharpies to it when she was 3. Residue from stickers marked other areas.

“Sounds like a big project.”

“I’ve got the time.” Joel smiled.

He reached down beside him, revealing a gift bag. A simple brown paper bag with a gold ribbon neatly tied and curled. Sarah’s trademark. He handed it to you with a smile.

“This from you or Sarah?”

“Me.” Joel crinkled his nose. “Just asked Sarah to wrap it for you.”

You lifted the bag up and down. It felt like it was probably a book. It rarely wasn’t. “And what is this for?” You smiled at him.

“Just fulfilling my husbandly duties.”

You laughed as you untied the ribbon. Joel had taken your first line to him like an oath over the course of your relationship. He’d surprised you with a new book at random times. Sometimes you came home to one on the kitchen counter or your nightstand. Other times, wrapped or handed to you, each with an inscription detailing something he loved about you and how “Pretty” didn’t cut it.

You smiled at him, pulling a hardcover book out of the bag. You opened the front cover. A piece of paper slipped out. Before you could investigate, Joel’s handwriting caught your attention.

I don’t know if you’ve been counting, darling, but this is the 100th book I’ve given you. When I met you in that bar, I knew if I had the chance to give you just one, I’d be the luckiest man alive.

We always talked about going on a big trip for our 25th wedding anniversary. I know it’s a little bit late, but I booked us on that trip to Italy you were eying last year.

I’m sure it’ll be beautiful, but I still think the best view is you.

I love you, Darling.

You picked up the slip of paper: the booking confirmation set for mid-September. You looked up at Joel, tears blurring your vision.

He chuckled. “Surprise.”

You set the book carefully on the end table, moving onto Joel’s lap. “You hate flying.”

“But I love new places.” He kissed your nose. He still looked at you like you hung the galaxy. You imagined you looked at him the same. “And you.”

You kissed him, the words whispered for just the two of you. “I love you too.”

#joel miller #tlou #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #build you the world

106 notes · View notes

raccoon-eyed-rebel · 2 months

Text

Part 22

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 21 🟣 Part 23

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Fluff, ongoing vampire shenanigans, abusive parents, drama, angst, more drama.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: Alright so actually I'd completely forgotten that I had this finished, and I found it today, so... enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @ellethespaceunicorn @mis-lil-red @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld @proud-aroace-beastie

Three weeks later you had all but forgotten about Katie’s threats, and you were getting ready to spend a day in with your four favorite guys, gathering snacks, drinks and blankets for a cozy movie-marathon — something you felt you very much deserved because not even August had been able to ward you of all the discomfort of having that IUD put in.

Your plans were disrupted by the doorbell. Sherlock opened the door, and though you couldn’t hear exactly what was being said, you recognized that voice immediately.

“May I inquire what this is about?” Sherlock asked politely, not immediately ready to let the strangers inside.

“We were informed that our daughter is living here, and that we should go see her.” You’d recognize your mother’s distinctive accent anywhere. It cut through all other sounds — and not in a good way… Sherlock turned to look at you, and you nodded as you tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Darlin’!” your mom pulled you into a hug, and after that your dad did the same, only in a much more possessive way. Your mother looked around the room, at the table full of snacks, the nest on the couch and the four guys in the living room. “Are these friends of yours?”

“These are, eh… my roommates,” you stammered, surprised you had even managed to choke out a single word of that sentence. This was not going to end well.

“You’ve been living with four men?” Your father looked as though his face was about to explode. You could have seen that coming. You should have seen that coming. Just like you could have predicted your mom’s gasping and proverbial pearl-clutching. What were they even doing he—Katie! That bitch.

“Yes, mom,” you said, your voice betraying you. They were never going to approve of this arrangement, never mind the other arrangement you had with the guys. Maybe there was a chance you wouldn’t have to tell them about that.

Of course, they weren’t just going to leave — especially not after such a long drive — so August made everyone coffee while trying to keep you as calm as possible. Mike tried a few times to get closer to you, but you shook your head. Having four guys as roommates was strike one. A boyfriend would be strike two, and possibly also three. Learning that any of them was a vampire would likely give your dad an aneurysm. Not that that would be such a bad thing, but still. You were so completely unprepared to have this conversation…

So you drank your coffee and introduced your partners as friends, tearing off little pieces of your heart with every word, not so much because of the lie you told your parents, but because you couldn’t gather the strength to tell your family about your situation. Yes, it was unconventional, and yes, it was absolutely going to cause some really big problems… but you loved the guys so much. Then why was it so hard to choose their love?

“They’re your family, I promise we all understand,” Marshall let you know, and you thanked the universe for his gift and the fact that it was becoming so well-established outside of feeding situations.

“You’re my family too,” you replied, fighting back tears. “Probably more than they are.”

He promised you that you’d get through this, that life would go back to normal, and that your parents didn’t have to find out about the details of your relationship with the guys, and it all seemed to be headed that way — until something startled your mother and she dropped her empty coffee cup as she reached to put it back on the table. Unthinkingly as ever, Mike snatched it before it could hit the ground — a feat you could have passed off as ‘incredible reflexes’, if not for the fact that he was on the other side of the room from your mother when it happened, and he was back in his chair with the cup in his hands after barely a second.

“Darlin’, come here,” your father said slowly as he got up from his chair. “Now.”

“No, dad, sit down.”

“We have to leave,” he insisted. “That man is a vampire.” He held a hand out to you, and in that moment half of your childhood flashed before your eyes. Countless memories of being pulled along, dragged away from all things deemed dangerous and ungodly… Endless lectures on dangers you now knew never even existed in the first place. The amount of times that hand had struck you for disobedience and being ‘too curious for your own good’ — whatever the hell that meant.

“I’m aware of that,” you answered, your voice surprisingly even.

As per your predictions, your dad’s face looked like he was about to explode. “Y-you’re… aware of that?”

“Honey, you… you knew he was a vampire, and you chose to live with him anyway?” Your mother was pale as a sheet and looked like she was about to faint.

“I didn’t know at first,” you explained quietly, “and when he told me… I was shocked, of course. But… it didn’t change anything. He was still the guy I met… the guy I… fell in love with.” Cat, say goodbye to bag.

You focused your attention on the throbbing vein on your father’s forehead, so you could avoid looking into his eyes for a moment longer.

“Do I understand correctly that you are living with four men, one of whom is a vampire, and you are also seeing that boy? That… monster?” Mommy dearest was three seconds away from smoke coming out of her ears, dad’s face displayed an interesting mix of terror and fury. And you… you were finally fed up with all of this.

“No, mom, you’re mistaken,” you spoke slowly as the rational part of your brain begged you not to do what you were about to do. “I’m living with four men, all vampires…”

“Don’t say it,” Marshall broke into your thoughts, “please. They’ll never forgive you. Think about this.”

He was right, of course, and you should think about this a while longer. Blowing up your relationship with your parents on a whim was probably not a great idea, not to mention that they were only here because Katie was such a bitch. And Marshall was right: they’d never forgive you.

“After everything we’ve given you, everything we’ve done for you… we let you go to college!” Your dad spoke through gritted teeth, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “And you thank us by getting involved with these miscreants? You’re coming home, you ungrateful little whore!”

He raised a hand to hit you, but Marshall was faster. Of course he was faster. As soon as your father’s hand connected with Walter’s body, you heard a strange, loud tick — one that reminded you of the electric fences around your old neighbor’s yard. Whatever it was, it made your father retreat.

“Marshall…” You reached for him, only to be pulled back by August.

“Don’t touch him right now,” he warned you quietly. “You’ll get hurt.”

“He attacked me!” your father screamed — presumably mostly at your mother, but who knew…

“Young lady, you are coming home with us,” your mother said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Back to where it’s safe, far away from these abominations.”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon.” Your father seemed to have forgotten the mysterious incident with Marshall, who had now reluctantly stepped aside and seemed to have regained his composure. “Do not go against your mother, young lady, or…”

“Or what? You’ll hit me again? I don’t think any of them will let that happen,” you said, gesturing around you at the guys. “And I don’t think I will, either. I’m not going anywhere. I belong here.”

“You belong with your family,” your father snarled.

“I believe I just said that.” Tears escaped your eyes as you said it.

“You’re truly choosing these creatures over your own flesh and blood?” your father inquired angrily.

“Oh they’re more my blood than you can possibly imagine.” And that was the precise moment all remaining bridges went up in flames. Had your mother been wearing pearls, she’d be clutching them, and your dad… The anger in his face disappeared, making room for a completely blank expression that carried more hatred than anything you’d ever seen before.

“You’re feeding them.” Not a question, very much an accusation. And a correct one at that. Your father didn’t need an answer. “We’re done here.”

“Dad…”

“You are no daughter of mine,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “I thought we could save you, but this sin will never be forgiven.”

They left quietly, leaving the five of you behind in your own bubble of deafening silence.

It took a while for you to speak. “Mike,” you whispered, “I’m going to get so totally unreasonably mad at you. I’m already sorry, and I won’t mean a word of whatever I’m about to say…”

“That’s okay, Sweetcheeks. Kinda deserve it.”

“I… you…” But whatever words you had planned on throwing at him got caught in your throat, and before you fully realized you were moving, you were on your way to your bedroom, where you dropped down on the bed, no longer able to fight back your tears.

Some time went by and the mattress dipped next to you, and two arms wrapped around you. Mike. Then again, and another pair of arms. Sherlock.

“Can we…”

“Get in here, both of you,” you grumbled. This bed was not big enough for all of you, but fuck that.

Marshall got in behind Mike, August behind Sherlock.

“Hm, this hasn’t happened in forty years,” Marshall mused as he squeezed both you and Mike close.

“What the hell happened in the eighties, damn,” you laughed.

“We could show you,” Mike said as he snuggled closer to you, suggestive eyebrow wiggle included.

“I have no problem with the cuddling, but if this turns into an orgy, I’m gone,” Sherlock warned half-jokingly.

They all laughed. Half-heartedly at first, but soon… the sound of them was genuine and deep and warm, like a blanket and a warm bath, all at the same time.

“Did I fall asleep?” It was getting dark outside, so you must have, right? Sherlock was still holding you, but Mike was gone. Apparently, Marshall had taken his place.

“You did, darling,” Sherlock answered. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird…” As was to be expected after such an intense break up with your parents. “Is it bad that I don’t feel as bad as I think I should feel? Where’s Mike?”

“He had to get out of the house. He feels guilty,” August said calmly.

“I couldn’t have bluffed my way out of this forever,” you sighed. “And I know they’re not going to change. I’m so sorry for everything they said about you.”

“I’d say we’ve heard worse, but… it was up there. For me, at least.” Mike. Standing in the doorway one moment, sitting at the foot of the bed the next. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t caught that cup…”

“Like I said, Mikey… I couldn’t have kept this from them. Even if this had gone over well, Katie would have told them eventually.” You reached for him, and he immediately took that to mean ‘please dive on top of me this instant, preferably face-first into my cleavage’. It did not mean that, but it was fine. More than fine, even. You ran a hand through his messy curls and smiled at your favorite idiot.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” You were fairly sure you’d never completely grow used to sweet August.

“Someone could explain to me what the hell was going on with” — you turned around so you were facing Marshall — “you… And then we can get to our movie night, maybe?” Mike immediately jumped up, mumbling something about snacks, and disappeared.

“Right, that…” Marshall said. “I can tell you, but I can also show you… I promise I won’t hurt you.”

With your curiosity thoroughly piqued, how could you refuse? You put your arm on the covers like he asked, and gasped in surprise when he ran a hand over it. Little… pricks, of some kind, stung your skin as he moved his hand. It felt like…

“Electricity?” you asked. Marshall nodded. “You tased my dad?”

“I suppose you could say that,” he responded calmly — maybe too calmly for someone who was admitting to electrocuting your father. “It’s not that dramatic, love.” Right. Mind reading. “As far as we know, I can manipulate existing electrical currents.”

“Can you turn the lights off?” you blurted out. They flickered for a moment, and he smiled at you. So, yes. He could.

“I don’t know how it works, just that it does,” he shrugged — for as far as possible when one is lying in bed, anyway.

A dirty smirk revealed he knew what you were thinking. “Pondering the possibilities, are we?” he said softly as he ran a hand over your arm again. The feeling raised goosebumps all over your arm. “We’ll continue that experiment at a time when it doesn’t make Sherlock insanely uncomfortable.”

“Sorry, Sherlock,” you mumbled.

“It’s alright, darling,” he replied. “We should join Mike, I think he’s done setting up.”

Marshall carried you to the living room and pulled you into his side as he sat down on the couch, while August put your feet in his lap. Mike, who just came back with a cup of tea for you, whined softly.

“Do you want attention?” you asked with a smile, already knowing what the answer would be. Mike nodded furiously. You gestured at the floor in front of the couch. “Come sit here. You’re staying with me tonight, okay?”

You’d asked the guys a million times if they weren’t uncomfortable on the floor, and they’d sworn they weren’t, but you still felt slightly awkward asking Mike to sit there. He hummed softly when you ran your fingers through his hair, and reluctantly reached for the remote.

“Movie?”

#mike hellraiser fic #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction #natural fic #naturalfic

30 notes · View notes

tothefiniteyou · 1 month

Note

Leon swung his sword down, expression determined. Yet- nothing happened. He paused, then adjusted his stance and swung again, gaze stuck firmly on one spot as he waited for something to happen. Nothing.

"Maybe it's because your sword is wooden?" Donnie noted, watching from afar. "Or there was something set up into the sword-"

"No- no, it was magic! He did magic, and if he's a me then I wanna do it too!" Leon countered, swinging the sword again. And again.

"Leon- there's no such thing as magic- it's not real or logical!" Donnie pipped up once again.

(firstly, oh my god I LOVE your designs so so much. Secondly, thanks for the ask! sorry if I ended up writing anything ooc)

"Magic..?" Donnie mumbles under his breath, eyeing these counterparts with scrunity.

Again with that word. It was coming up so often, yet he hadn't seen anything of the sort just yet. Coming to terms with alternate universes was already hard enough to wrap around, but magic? It wasn't.... Impossible, he supposes; Renet was someone able to manipulate time, after all, and they've encountered many strange things in their time. But still.

Looking over, he catches Leo also watching the exchange with a thoughtful look on his face. Catching Donnie looking, he drops his crossed arms and flashes a bit of a wry smile.

"If Mike were here, he'd no doubt be giving them a pep talk and saying things like 'you've gotta put more oomph into it!', huh?"

There's clear worry laced in there that Donnie tries not to think too deeply about. The oldest had been...twitchy ever since their fight with Karai.

"Right," is all he can answer with, leaving much unsaid.

Raph, on the other hand, doesn't seem too bothered, already having walked up to the group. It seems he's filled his little brother's shoes, approaching carefully but still giving pointers. Despite never having wielded magic.

The other Donnie is wary, but good-naturedly throwing in a jab here and there while Leon's boisterous exclamations continue.

"At least this group doesn't seem lost," Leo lightly jokes, merely observing. "Should we keep an eye on them still?"

"Considering how dangerously close the bone one has gotten to almost poking someone's eye out? Yes."

@tmntstorycomp

#tmntstorycomp #tmntstorycomp propaganda

7 notes · View notes

randomalistic · 6 months

Text

I think monsters university is my favorite prequel ever If we exclude five night s at Freddy’s 2

Spoilers obviously .

Ok no but genuinely they made that movie so fucking good for no reason and I forced my parents to rewatch it with me lmfao. I’m too tired to go off about Sully and Mike’s characters in the movie but they’re surprisingly complex and I REALLY LIKE THE CONFLICTS THEY GO THROUGH UGHH.. thar friendship🥹 also Jesus crhist the scene where they scare the adults gives me chills every time because it’s so fucking good AND WHEN THEY TALK AT THE LAKE… and after Mike finds out the difficulty was rigged…

I’m eating it up so much I love when 2 guys Hate eachother at the start but then become so genuinely vulnerable and understand eachother by the end after they formed a strong friendship

I’m not even gonna get started on the monsters inc world as a Concept because it’s like the best and cleverest worldbuilding ever so I’m already Very invested in that. But the stakes were so high here and they were so vulnerable and th. Sobs.

AND. Holy fuck

Mike works SO hard and he’s belittled and stepped on repeatedly and his dreams are basically Crushed Multiple Times throughout the film and yet he perseveres. And at the end he DOESNT “win.” He doesn’t get back into the scare program. He isn’t scary and he will never be scary even though that’s all he wants EVER. Mike works like 100x harder than Sully to try and be scary whereas Sully is scary without trying because he just Looks like that. And that’s so fucking real dude .... it reminds me a lot of learning disabilities and disabilities in general. “You’re not scary, but you’re fearless” I’m gonna explode

It’s so disability positive, and NOT in a super “my disability is actually awesome and gives me an advantage!” Kind of way ( that message in itself isn’t Terrible but it’s missing realism and it’s a little over-positive) but yeah the fact it DOESNT do that is GREAT. Because disabilities DONT give you an advantage in most things. Having a disability means you have to work extra hard to be level with everyone else and it’s exhausting. The special thing about Mike is that he’s able to exceptionally plan and think ahead and he’s really intelligent despite not being scary. (Aka his disability)

This video puts it really well better than I can lol but GRAAGHHH this movie is so fucking good thank you 2013 pixar. It’s always such a joy to revisit and it’s one of my favorites and I love it

youtube

#film #uh oh I went off again #I wasn’t planning to.#Also I like how he’s a little 3 toed beastly green creature but that’s unrelated. Do you think monsters inc counts as furry media. Sorry #monsters university #monsters inc #movie #movie review #Youtube #txt

11 notes · View notes

strangertheories · 2 years

Note

In a new interview they said that they're never going to define Will's sexuality. You've said about gay Will being important to you so I thought you'd have something to say about. I'm really pissed off so reassurance would be great hehe

Thanks for the ask. First of all, I don't think he said they'd never define it as he probably hasn't read the script for S5, although admittedly it seems like he's not going to come out in S4. Also even if they never say Will is gay, he can still like Mike. Although I don't know how they'd have that and never bring up him being gay because homophobia and labels exist within the universe or Stranger Things. He's obviously intended to be gay based off of interviews but mostly the show itself. @elkdiaries made a brilliant post with some more optimism about this interview that I recommend checking out. Full disclosure, most of this post is a vent post.

Most viewers think Will is gay by this point and in this season he's pretty obviously into Mike and not into women. They said people thought he was gay in episode 1. In S3 they say he doesn't like girls. And in S4 he's still not into girls and is pretty obviously in to Mike. The whole point of his character this season is to be gay otherwise he's just a possessive friend who did a project on Alan Turing, recoiled at a girl flirting with him and was jealous of his platonic bestie having a girlfriend. I don't think anyone is in denial of him being gay so if they don't address it it'll be super weird and confusing and most audience members would be confused. I never even questioned Will's sexuality like I questioned Byler because I assumed it was very explicit. He could be unlabeled or have a dubious sexuality if it was another character, but Will is pretty clearly intended to be gay, as mentioned in several cast interviews and just by anyone watching the show.

However, I, to quote this anon, am pissed at them not defining Will's sexuality. I hate how they're trying to get woke points by saying 'people don't need labels in 2022'. I agree that people don't need to label themselves, but writing an obviously gay character and baiting him being gay only for you to never address it isn't representing unlabeled people; it's just cowardly. Refusing to have representation in an obviously gay character is NOT PROGRESSIVE. It's not even his label that's up for debate. They're saying you can choose to interpret him as gay or as not grown up. Which is actually so annoying! He's not being immature by not liking the opposite sex, he's being gay... because he is gay!

As you've said, I've spoken at length about how much gay Will means to me. When I went through a really rough time in my life realising I didn't like the opposite sex, I felt really seen by Will. But hey, maybe I just need to grow up and like boys, right? I know I'm being way too salty, but you just know that some queer person online is going to talk about feeling seen in Will only for someone to go along and say they're forcing it and that he's just growing up slowly. It's like people saying Robin could still be bi because she never said the word lesbian. People need to be told explicitly what a character's sexuality is because they will go out of their way to deny it or call it forced or call queer people crazy for thinking something. By leaving that door open, they are robbing people of representation.

And yes, some queer kids don't know they are queer. Some kids are "confused and growing up". Will is not a real child. But real gay teens like me will watch the show and want to see a character who means a lot to them who can help them through this confusing and rough period of their lives. Noah Schnapp said people "reach to put a label on him and just want to know so badly" and there's a reason for that. It's because they want to be able to say that he is like them, not implied to be like them. Them saying Will is a "role model for kids out there who don't know what they're going through" is so disingenuous. Because Will never says he doesn't know what he's going through if they never address it. They're not representing confused kids or unlabeled people when they ignore and refuse to talk about the massive elephant in the room. They're just leaving room for annoying straight people on social media to tell queer fans that they were deluded for ever seeing themselves in this character.

I don't want Will's sexuality to be an interpretation. I want it to be canon. I want him to be in lists of gay characters. I want young queer people to be able to look at him and say 'that is me'. I want gay Will.

#stranger things #stranger things four #byler #stranger theories #stranger things analysis #will byers #st4 #lgbtq #byeler

41 notes · View notes

light-lanterne · 1 year

Note

Angel!! 💖

I promised, for the WIP Ask game, and since you got me hooked on Sleep Token I'd the "take me back to eden", please? l

hi soso !! sorry it's taken me days to reply; i completely forgot about these x.x anyway, because you mentioned you really liked this song, here's a bit from the ficlet for "rain":

Breathing had never been something Mike put much thought into. Inhale and exhale, in and out, muscles moving, thorax distending, oxygen replacing the carbon dioxide in his blood, his cells living to see another few minutes of their existence. It really was no big deal and there was little use in thinking about such a process beyond having to catch his breath after gym class, a fight or, more recently, the occasional panic attacks that wouldn't let him rest at night. It was such a mindless task, so insignificant and normal that his body was designed to do it on its own, that it was frankly surprising when he discovered just how good it felt to take in big mouthfuls of fresh, clean air into his system. No sulphuric scent clinging to his skin, no dizzying compounds causing him nausea at all times, no accretion of gas, dust, and spore molecules poisoning his bloodstream as he waked through the haunted wasteland the Upside Down had been up until the moment they closed the gate for the last time, just a few minutes ago. Just clean and refreshing air, alleviating his headache, reminding him of the fact that he was alive, his diaphragm rejoicing in being able to expand and contract to its fullest extent for the first time in what felt like years. Breathing, it seemed, felt way better than Mike remembered. And it wasn't like he hadn't been doing it all along, for he would not be there if he'd had some form of crisis at any point during the past couple years. But it really felt like he'd been stagnant in space for a long time —perhaps even since that fateful evening in November, already a lifetime ago—, and it was only now that he was free to exert his humanly right to breathe. Alas, like all good things in life, his freedom didn't last. This time, however, the universe seemed to have decided he deserved a break and, instead of giving him more sorrow and suffering, it gave him something precious. Tender. Like a sun ray caught in a small vessel, the warmth his to take as a reward for the years of pain they'd all endured and, as the first droplets of water hit the crown of his head, Mike was grateful for the heat. "You're so stupid," a voice said, muffled as its source was pressed flushed against Mike's shoulder, iron arms creating a cage from whence Mike would never be able to escape even if he tried, their presence once again restricting the movement of his bruised ribcage except this time Mike couldn't care less. He smiled into the hug.

okei, that's almost 500 words so i'll stop there. hope you like this !! and thank you for sending the ask and making me write it ~ :D

story idea 🥀 || song inspiration 🔮

#💕#💌#🌸#🥀#✨#🔮#🧸

5 notes · View notes

fahrni · 3 months

Text

Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

It’s been a fun week at work. I’ve been fixing bugs here and there. For some reason I enjoy this type of work. I spent a decent amount of time looking at memory graphs for object retentions problems and fixed a couple of good ones this week. That always feels great!

As for Stream for Mac, I started off the week in a bit of a funk but thanks to some amazing Mac devs I was put back on the right path. Stream for Mac development is moving forward once again. Fingers crossed I can keep up the momentum. 🤞🏼

Nikita Prokopov A.K.A. Tonsky

So all this time I was living under impression that, for example, if the average web page size is 3 MB, then JavaScript bundle should be around 1 MB. Surely content should still take the majority, no?

Some of the examples Nikita gives seem ridiculous. It makes me wonder if backend processing that spits out pure HTML will ever become a thing again?

Harry Cheadle • Eater, Seattle

But Tony Delivers doesn’t need to be anything bigger than it already is, which is one guy on a bike showing up to deliver food, probably smiling, probably asking how you’re doing, a bolt of disarming kindness in a city that even before we all got addicted to screens was known for being standoffish. That seems worth $5.

Tony has become a Seattle hero! I can’t believe he’s able to survive on $5 deliveries but bravo for making your own little niche!

Nish Tahir

I’ve been learning more about common attacks that appear in my Nginx logs to learn more about what happens beyond the log entries.

Nish is geekin’ out again. I wish I had his brain. The things I could accomplish! 🧠

Gunnar Anzinger

Also, do not worry at this time about acquiring the resources to build the house itself. Your first priority is to develop detailed plans and specifications. Once I approve these plans, however, I would expect the house to be under roof within 48 hours.

This piece is ridiculous in all the best ways. The paragraph I chose to feature really hit home. Yes, yes, take your time. We need it in two days. 🤣

Claire Elise Thompson • grist

If you like the idea of a perpetual three-day weekend, you might be one of a growing cadre that supports the concept of degrowth: a school of thought aimed at shrinking economies and moving away from GDP growth as a metric of success, while instead emphasizing universal basic services and social well-being.

With the rise of AI companies believe they can replace us with software for many types of work.

I think that’s cool! Let’s replace workers and figure out a way to allow folks to do whatever they want and still receive a paycheck. Like, perhaps, Universal Basic Income, Single Payer health care, and free university for everyone! Of course the rich people won’t like that idea.

Trust me when I say I could find plenty of things to work on.

Michael Szczepanik

It’s time for the NATIVE mobile development to end.

I don’t agree. I’ve been working on a project that involves React Native and I see the value in it, but that doesn’t mean native development should go away. Your mileage may vary. For me it’s native or bust for my personal projects.

Mike Elgan • Computerworld

More to the point: Most companies cannot show actual monetary benefits from RTO mandates. But most employees can show actual and significant monetary costs from RTO mandates.

This is an interesting take on the cost to employees to return to work. I’ve never thought about it in those terms. For me it’s always been about the flexibility working remotely gives me. I save between 40-60 minutes a day by not commuting, I can have afternoon coffee with my wife, and if I need to work late it’s so much easier to stomach because I’m already home.

If WillowTree asked us all to return to the office full time, I would. I just prefer working from home.

Jacob Phillips • Evening Standard

The Kremlin has said it will use its “entire strategic arsenal” and fire nuclear missiles at London, Washington, Berlin and Kyiv if it is made to give up the areas of Ukraine it has invaded.

We need to get our act together and get more aid to Ukraine. The GOP loves their orange American Dictator who, in turn, loves Putin so they’re keeping aid from Ukraine. What happened to all those Patriotic Republicans with their flags and love of all things military? They’re too cowardly to stand up to Trump. It’s really shameful.

Chris Evangelista • /Film

Stephen King Hates The Only Movie He Ever Directed

I liked Maximum Overdrive for what it was. It’s a popcorn movie. Get your popcorn, soda, find your seat, and sit back to watch the mayhem unfold. It delivered and I had no idea Stephen King directed it.

0 notes

stuffromymind · 1 year

Text

Canada’s Top 20 Bands (Excludes Solo Acts)

I stumbled on this list but it pissed me off so much, I was gonna share it with some friends but the email got outta hand soooo...

This list is hurting, definitely in the wrong order, but it's TOTALLY invalidated by #20 and #8.

20: Simple Plan: F-. The plan is quite simple: "Let's SUCK!". Pedo Pop. They sang love songs to 10 to 14 year old girls at their gigs. I met Bob Rock, who produced one of their albums, at a bar once during a set break. I went up to his table, said hi and asked: “Can I buy you a drink Bob?”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Okay, I just thought you might be hard up for cash since you took a gig working on Simple Plan’s last album......”

The whole table burst out laughing, Paul Hyde, (his partner and lead singer in The Payollas/Rock&Hyde), burst out laughing, slapped me on the back and said: “OH HE GOT YOU BOB! Good one mate!”

Bob smiled at me and said: “Fuck you, man.”

He gave me a wave later that night as he walked out to his black Escalade, smiled and said, “Have a good night.”

He knew I was right.

I’d need money for lung transplants for an orphanage full of kids who grew up next to a trash incinerator before I’d help to unleash more Simple Plan on the world. Seriously.

19: Saga: C. The fashion says it all. Bar band who wrote mostly ok songs. I don’t remember any. They weren’t bad... just..... “eh?”

Nice Eddie VH, “No Bozos”, shirt for stoner dude, Mr. Zebra Pants. I think the guy beside him mighta been dealing with a chubby. The dude playing pocket pool, who came directly from his shift at the car wash? That’s rock.

I’m making this up as I write.....I’m going to bet that the guy in the white suit is the keyboard player. I’d bet on it. I’ve always been able to walk into any venue and spot the keyboard player immediately.

No lie. This just occurred to me.

In fact, I’m gonna go on a hunt and see if I’m right. brb............

HAHAHHAH!! I knew it! I don’t know how I always know, but I DO!

18: New Pornographers: ?. Respected by their peers. Not my kinda thang.I couldn’t even I.D. one of their songs if you played it to me. Def other bands that should bump them from this list.

17: Sum 41: B. Was better than a lotta pop punk, (damning with faint praise), but $$ and substances made them flail. Their first album and promo clips were catchy as Hell. Got pretty metal AF towards the end though, dammit. They were good enough to record with Iggy Pop so you can't say shit, really.

16: Metric: D+. Considering the bands that are missing here? Geddafuckatta here! Never failed to leave me vigoursly unimpressed.

15: April Wine: B-. Had some undeniably good songs. Worked a gig they played in the 90s. Mercer on drums may have been a reincarnated Viking. Hella nice guy. Good dudes. Unlike Trooper who were unrepentant, 'rawk star' pricks.

14: Triumph: B+. Def had some memorable melodies. Killer musicians. Not my cuppa tea ultimately. Rik Emmet could rip. Watched him play a solo album show in a university cafeteria, from 10 feet away, 5 years after their famous US Festival gig in front of 300,000. Crowd was smaller. A bit.

13: Cowboy Junkies: C. Nice. If you like whispering and don't belch too often or have a cat that likes to purr, (you'll miss hearing the songs if you do). If you like dynamics or being conscious? Best in small doses.

They tried to rock up their sound. Kinda like getting nuns to dress in lingerie and work the pole in church: Didn't take.

I did have a crush on Margot though. Quirky is cool...

12: Loverboy: 1st Album: A. After that D+. "Hey! Ballads make money! Cheese is tasty! Let's crank out soft fromage!” Large mistake. Almost as large as Mike’s bandana.

11: Barenaked Ladies: B. Yeah, talented. Yeah, apparently put on a good live show in the early days. Yeah their Bruce Cockburn cover that got them started is quite exswellent. But tried too hard to be "wacky!" and I could never stand Page. Just.....no.

Just one of those people that utterly rubs one the wrong way through no intent of their own.

10: Voivod: A-. A minus only cuz I just don't digg'em. Trailblazers, original, inimitable: Yup. Just not for me. Jason Newstead played with them for a while, (the nicest Metallicat), so that's says sumpin'.

9: BTO: A. I can play a snippet of 4 of their songs that I guarantee anyone with ears and a few ounces of skullmeat between those ears will recognize at least one of them. Not many bands can say that. Plus, one of their biggest songs was a joke song by Randy Bachman making fun of his brother's stutter, (which is honestly kind of a dick move but it works).

8: Nickelback: F- - - Times Infinity. Are you fukking kidding me?! Whoever* made this list eats a bowl of dirt with cheese for breakfast, a plate of shit with cheese for lunch, and a block of mouldy cheese garnished with melted cheese and seal vomit for supper. He has no taste.

Canada and Oilberta should apologize for this stain. If the logic is, “Popularity = Greatness”, then the author of the original list should be in the local dog park on his knees with a fork 'cuz 3 trillion flies say shit is good eating.

I mean, what kind of DICK kicks out a member of the band you all started in highschool and then sues him for his royalties? A dick like Chad, that’s who.

I saw them open for Big Wreck in a bar in 98 when all we knew is the ‘Guy who looks like Jesus is a hack and the band is 4th rate Nirvana.” That was our appraisal.

When they broke world wide and Big Wreck didn’t? I gave up on the music industry and any chance there’s a Sky Friend. Chad Croaker even made Ian Thornely’s songs sound generic as producer. That is some Hellspawned, evil “talent” right there.

7. Skinny Puppy: A. Never been a rabid fan but is one of those bands you might not be aware of, but that bands you love totally love them! Kinda like there's no Nirvana without Pixies sorta thing: No Ministry without S.P.

6: Blue Rodeo: C at outset. Don't much know 'bout last 30 years of output, honestly. They wrote a classic song called “Try". Every band would like to write one song that hits like that. #6 Though? Nahhhhh.

5. The Guess Who: C. I'm sorry. I just can’t stand their "hits". Burton, in the 60s before they made it big - was a rawk star twat to 2 members of my family and everyone else in the joint. I met him 3 decades later, introduced by a radio DJ who liked my band.

He was SO deep in his gambling addiction, plugging Twonies into a slot machine like it was the Titanic and he was trying to stop it sinking, that he didn't even look up. Just said, "Hey how's it going?", while staring at the screen and pulling coins from his plastic bowl like an automaton.

At least this lead to B.T.O. which should be WAYY higher than The Guess Who.

4. Arcade Fire: C-. Yeah, No. I've tried. If you needed a group you can sum up in the phrase, "Up their own arses”? This is your band.

3. Tragically Hip: A+. If you don't own Fully Completely, (recorded at Abbey Road)? You're a dick. Were they WAY overrated as a live band? Hell yeah! Except for Gord pushing his imaginary lawn mower around the stage, doing laundry and being generally odd -as I recall from the 1994 Another Roadside Attraction tour with Danny Lanois, Midnight Oil and The Pursuit Of Happiness- the band was Nyquil for the eyes. They rocked your ears but visually, they’d have been the ideal live band for Ray Charles or Helen Keller.

2. The Band: A. Another of those bands that if you erased them from existence, another 40 bands would vanish instantly. Don't own any of their music but you can't deny talent and influence.

1. Rush: A+. Well, duh. I will say that Ged's vocal style kept me away for the most part till their last 3 albums when his tone and timbre changed/dropped from the registers he resided in and he started projecting less from his schnoz.

They're each cool, down to earth blokes and most exswellent Hoser ambassadors. Would have liked to have met Neil.... wish I'd mailed the letter I wrote after I read his Ghostrider book. They don't deserve to be on the same list as Simple Plan and Nickelhack, speaking of which:

* "A Chicago native, Jeff Mezydlo has professionally written about sports, entertainment and pop culture for nearly 30 years....If he could do it again, he'd attend Degrassi Junior High"

That explains it! A meathead, jock himbo! Nickelhack's core fanbase.

Fuhk me running!

This list should have included:

Big Wreck, (Never put out a bad album in 2 1/2 decades). Ian Thornley has pipes for days and can flay the skin from your skull with his guitar playing.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLE672AEDCFAD9B04B

Headstones, (You won't find many rock/punk bands with more pointed, well written lyrics delivered with more piss 'n venom). Hugh followed me when I was on Twitter. Like minded, nice guy’d who prefer people at a distance I guess. I especially enjoyed seeing him on the last tour deal with an iZombie staring at his device, front row:

“Okay! You got your picture? Put your goddamn phone away!”

iZombie just smiles at his screen while pointing his device/appendage at Hugh’s face. Hugh simply SWATS the phone away, sending it slamming to the floor. Show continued. Aces.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2NAU6h-pv4UbxUpNSAn5yKUeTrGH_vpZ

Red Rider/"Tom Cochrane & Red Rider", As Far As Siam....Neruda. Come on....

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLA0256E754745F02C

and...

Danko -Fecking- Jones. Hello? Degrassi boy puts some of the stains he chose on this list and not Danko? Twat. Stood 4 feet away at a small club in a backwards part of the country many moons ago. I was spitting the words back as loud as the PA. caught Mr. J’s eye and a smirk a few times. Ripping live band. They’re Big in Europe.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL23C355E32E0D8BA9

Any and all of these just mentioned instead of #20 and #8, and a few others should be on any “Best Canadian Bands list. Seriously.

The author, like I said: Himbo, jock, Fuh. Kup.

If you wanna see the original commentary of the sports writer and teen drama fan?

https://www.yardbarker.com/entertainment/articles/the_best_canadian_rock_bands_of_all_time/s1__37691537#slide_1

1 note · View note

perexcri · 1 year

Note

Percyyyyy I am a crying mess on the floor. My son! My poor poor son. Even in this universe he cannot escape the shadows.

(Why did the Ministry have that thing in its basement/cellar?????)

This puts a Lot of the first parts into context 😭 Will trying So Hard to not use Too Much magic—as well as being unable to help himself using it around Mike.

‘It was guilt, and it plagued him up the stairs to his room even with Mike’s arm around his shoulders, hanging around him like a cloak he could never shake off. It didn’t help that his best friend was right next to him all the way up the stairs, and for several hours, before the shadows finally took him in their arms into the realm of dreams, he faced the stone walls and felt only wave after wave of guilt and despair. This was all his fault, and there was nothing he could do; everything was broken, and there was no way to put it all back together.’ Ow ow. Written too well! Even before I read your author’s note I could tell that this was somewhat an allegory for depression because I Felt this whole section of the chapter and especially this paragraph. (I’m so sorry you were feeling so low while writing this I understand what its like. I hope you are feeling better now, and if not I send you sunshine and good vibes and hot tea!)

‘I meant it when I said always.’ Michael stabbing me in the heart ow I’m face down on the floor in tears.

I wish they will be able to escape even though I know they won’t. They just,,, deserve to be happy. But that happiness is likely far off for them:((

As always you make magic with your words! I hope you’re having a wonderful week!!

i apologize for the tears Vee T_T please accept these hearts as my humblest and sincerest of apologies 💜💜💜

ooooh yeah and the shadows in the basement cellar - i think my original intention for that was just to have them represent kind of what i think (in a lot of ways) the upside down represents in the show? like to me, the upside down in the show kind of works as this metaphor for things below the surface of a typical small american town that emphasize its seedy underbelly, like the upside down is literally these things that are poisoning the town yet most of the town refuses to address. idk if that makes sense (i just woke up and am very tired lol) but i guess i kind of wanted it to show in this fic that the ministry isn't being entirely truthful and that they, like any other institution in this setting, are potentially doing a lot of harm that nobody is really addressing. they have secrets like everybody else despite the fact that they want to act like they're above it all

ahh but i'm so glad it's helped put the first couple of parts more into context!! i love when stories are told non-chronologically specifically because you find out the context for certain scenes much later, so it makes me happy to know i was able to write something that did that T_T

and ahhhhhh thank you friend!! i am feeling much better, but i will always accept sunshine and hot tea from others :] i'm both sorry that it could be relatable for you to read about (because yeah dealing with that is Not Fun), but i'm also glad you could find some understanding in it?? idk something something "we read to know that we are not alone" something something

AND OH MY GOSH WAIT THE ALWAYS LINE - i added that thing very last minute (by my standards at least, which means it was mid-afternoon when i added it and i posted this chapter at night aksjflkdjsal), so i'm glad you liked it!! i thought it was a nice addition, but also painful considering,,,well. you know.

yeah the inevitability of everything is weighing heavily upon these two right now T_T there's just one chapter left in this part, and i think you can already tell what's gonna happen. i did tag this fic as angst with a happy ending for a reason, though, so please just bear with me through the pain!!

Vee your words mean the world to me :] 💜 i hope you're having a great week too, and i am sending you lots of warm soup!! 💜💜💜

#ask

1 note · View note

thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

Note

Just read your paranoid Bella post (it was awesome) and what stood out to me is that in these kinds of AUs the Quiletes seem to be kinda left out. If I recall, Billie actively tried to warn Bella that Cullens are bad news and even argued w Charlie about that. How do you think a scenario with Bella who’s not interested in Edward and instead rekindles her childhood friendship w Jacob from the get go (mb befriends Leah too? and is known as ‘the kid w her own company outside of school’) could go?

The post anon is referencing.

I guess I can answer this earlier than I would normally. Sometimes it's good to shuffle the posts around!

Why No Quileute?

Many of the AUs people ask about center around either the Twilight period (something about Bella is significantly different before Twilight begins), the New Moon period (New Moon changes in such a significant manner that Eclipse never happens), or very rarely the post Breaking Dawn period (Bella's off prancing in the woods and Jake is just kind of there).

With the first two especially the circumstances make it unlikely Bella will significantly cross paths with Jake let alone discover the secret of the wolves and meet the rest of the Tribe.

What Do You Mean Bella Might Not Find Out?!

Remember, Jake was not Bella's childhood friend, that was his older sisters. When Bella stops visiting Forks Jake, only a few years younger, seemed like light years younger than Bella Swan. He was not on her radar at all and was that annoying kid brother.

Even as a teenager, Bella's clearly bothered by the age gap between them, seeing it as much larger than it really is.

In the beginning of Twilight she's pleased to see Jake, is willing to flirt with him for information, but she's not at all interested. She only seeks him out in New Moon to work on the motorcycles with him as free labor. From that, the friendship we see through the rest of the series grows.

Before that, though, Billy was more on Bella's radar than Jake ever was. And Billy in canon is Bella's slight enemy as he tries to warn her away from Edward the vampire. Well, Bella certainly knows more than him! So, there, Billy!

As for the wolves themselves, they didn't want to tell Bella, Sam had Jake cut all ties. By happenstance Jake had happened to tell Bella this story and he happens to be able to jog her memory. Had that not happened, she would have assumed he left her just as Edward did and sunk even deeper into depression.

Likely, Charlie would have sent her to live with her mother.

She would never find out the mysteries of the "bears" in the woods, would never meet all the members of the tribe, would never truly develop her deep friendship with Jacob, and she and the Quileute would simply not cross paths.

Bella and the tribe very easily could have been ships passing in the night.

Why No Quileute in Paranoid Bella AU?

Now, this is a Bella who does not want to be with Edward but she's also a paranoid, terrified, wreck. Edward is sneaking into her room every night before Bella gets to First Beach

I imagine she likely does not go to the beach, or if she does, pointedly does not ask anyone about Edward. NOPE, SHE KNOWS NOTHING. Because for all she knows, Edward is hiding somewhere in the bushes watching her.

He, after all, has dropped hints that he knows everything that happens to her.

Bella doesn't know about the treaty at this point and that Edward cannot physically go to La Push.

When Billy gives her cryptic hints, she probably gives him deer in the headlights looks and debates scribbling "SAVE ME" on a sheet of paper, but for all she knows Billy is a human and stands no chance against Edward. In that moment, Edward is right outside her house, in his car, listening to every word.

If Bella tells Billy to get her the fuck out, she might very well be condemning him to be eaten.

"AHAHAHAHAHA BILLY, I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND. SO MUCH."

When Billy sends Jake to Prom, Bella is in Edward's arms, right at that moment. Worse, unlike Billy, Jake does think this is ridiculous and is utterly mortified at interrupting her date like this.

Bella wants to cry.

"AHAHAHAHA, JAKE, I LOVE MY BOYFRIEND. SO MUCH."

Point being though, Edward doesn't tell Bella about the wolves, and she likely doesn't know about them from the beach. So to her, the Quileutes are just humans who seem to know what she knows. Edward likely never expands on this as he never has to in this universe. So he also never explains things like the treaty. This means they are just normal people who stand no better chance against Edward than she does. She can't go running to them for sanctuary, screaming, and potentially have Edward eat the entire tribe as he would have Biology class.

Just as she wouldn't put her mother or Charlie in danger, Paranoid Bella will not knowingly endanger the tribe.

Paranoid Bella Rekindles Her Friendship with Jake (and Leah Comes Along for the Ride)

Let's say Bella does go to First Beach and notes that Edward says he can't make it for whatever reason. Bella's not sure she believes this but he does seem unnaturally disappointed.

Sam drops his "The Cullens aren't welcome here" ominous line and Bella stares at him long and hard. He seems to know something, might even know the same something she knows, in the first timeline she likely decides it's not worth the risk of Edward overhearing them.

In this one though... this may be her only chance to gather information.

Sam is intimidating and scary looking (which is too bad as he's the one who could actually do something in this situation). So she resorts to her "bad flirting with Jake" plan.

Once again, it works, but this time Bella's soul dies inside.

Oh yeah, the Cullens are vampires and eat people (Bella knew it, SHE KNEW IT) but Jake thinks it's all superstitious nonsense. The only way he has heard of to kill them are noble werewolf spirit warriors from the tribe. But they have the treaty with the Cullens because they don't eat people on purpose (Bella cries inside).

No, Jake's never heard of anyone being an actual spirit warrior, don't be stupid, Bella. It's just an old legend.

Bella leaves the beach miserable.

The Quileute Tribe clearly knows but it seems like there's nothing they can do about it either.

BuT EdWArD's StIll In HeR RoOm aT NiGHt!

Bella decides it's worth the risk.

She drives to Billy's, watching for Edward tailgating her at every moment, but sees no sign of him (thank god). Luckily for her, in this early Twilight period, Edward was trying to pretend not to be a lunatic. So he wasn't running down her car yet like he was in Eclipse.

He's very unhappy she's visiting land he cannot go on but will pretend everything's fine. THIS IS FINE. SHE COULD BE EATEN BY BEARS BUT THIS IS FINE.

Bella confesses to Billy that Edward Cullen, the vampire, is sneaking into her bedroom at night to watch her sleep and she is certain he will try to eat her.

This was not what Billy had hoped or expected to hear from Bella Swan.

Those demonic motherfuckers.

Billy likely debates calling Carlisle, the head of the coven (who genuinely would be appalled by all of this), but he doesn't trust any of these people. He assumes Edward is grooming Bella to be Dracula's Bride (he is) and that this is just a thing vampires do (it's not).

But the Tribe cannot go to war with the Cullens.

They have only one wolf at this point, Sam, who is at this point still a teenager and untried in combat. He would be fighting seven vampires alone, they would be condemning him, and the tribe itself to a massacre.

However, that they haven't come after Bella yet is perhaps a good sign. The Cullens may not want to break the treaty either (Billy doesn't realize it's just Edward out there who wants to break it).

So here's what they'll do, Bella will "rekindle" her friendship with Jacob. She'll come over every single day, immediately after school with no exceptions, and will live at their house every weekend.

No exceptions.

The Cullens cannot enter Quileute land and, if they do... Well then, I guess they prepare for war.

Jake is ecstatic, though weirded out, as Bella suddenly practically lives at his house. They get along very well and soon their friendship is formed. Jake keeps trying to date her though and Bella's not very interested.

As for Leah... Sorry anon, but Leah is at the most miserable point in her miserable life. She's been dumped by Sam for her cousin and she has no idea why this has happened and Sam offers no explanations. She's a ball of rage and misery and has no time for Jacob Black's jittery girlfriend from Forks.

Meanwhile Edward is becoming annoyed.

He accepts the explanation that Bella and Jake are childhood friends, that she knew his sisters growing up, and that they've struck up their friendship again but... He doesn't like it.

He goes from imagining Mike Newton's head exploding to Jacob Black's head exploding.

Every day he curses that treaty and thinks it's so damn convenient that Bella keeps running off to the one place he can't follow.

He sits and he seethes.

...

And I stop here.

Wherever this path leads, anon, it is not one we should follow.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #twilight quileute #bella swan #jacob black #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #edward/bella #anti edward/bella #billy black #sam uley #leah clearwater #meta #headcanon #opinion

282 notes · View notes

princess-of-riviaa · 3 years

Text

Claiming

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Erin Quincy (1st person POV)

Summary: You experience your first heat as a brand new shifter. Walter, being the good alpha he is, helps out his struggling omega.

Warning(s): depictions of animal attack, age gap (Erin is 25, Walter is 38), alcohol use, a bit of angsty Walter, dirty talk, possessiveness

Author’s note: This is my first piece of work I made for the ABO Universe. I hope you guys like it!

Word count: 3,931

Two weeks ago, I’d been on a camping trip with my two step-brothers, Scott and Chris, when my life had forever changed. One second, the hiking trail had been clear and safe; the next, some kind of animal was jumping out of the brush and fighting my breakfast sausage out of my hands. I later learned that the animal had been a wolf, but that realization only came when I had my first Shift three days later.

Though the night had escaped my memories, when I woke up in an unfamiliar mansion to an unfamiliar group of faces the next day, they filled me in on the details. The man in front—tall, with deep brown curls that were almost as distracting as his thick, muscular shape—had told me that I had Shifted the night before and ended up on their doorstep. And yes, Shifters—not werewolves, as most fantasy books called them—were real, Walter informed me during my surprised silence.

Walter Marshall—that was the stunning stranger’s name. He was an Alpha of one of the two packs that lived in this mansion, and I was more than welcome to join them. I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what had become of myself—and I knew better than to hope that my family would understand—so I accepted the generous offer.

I had been with the pack for three weeks now. Winnie Marshall, Walter’s twin sister, was the Alpha for the mansion’s other pack. Walter had found me first—he had actually been the one to stop me from giving into my animalistic instincts on the night he found me, and had been the one to bring me in from the pouring rain—and technically had claim to me. But, because I hadn’t officially been claimed by him, Winnie argued that she had as much right to me as her brother did. So she took me under her wing. She’d explained everything to me, been there in my moments of panic and embarrassment to assure me that everyone goes through this, and it’s not going to last forever.

The only other two people in the house that were my age were two betas. One of them, a young man named Mike (though everyone called him Mikey), was the center of attention at the mansion, though he surprisingly had his eyes set on the quiet girl who loved books. Her name—I met her last, simply because she’d locked herself in the library for a week-long reading challenge—was Amber Connelly. As the only other beta under the age of thirty, she had an… interesting relationship with Mikey. And by that I mean they were both head over heels for each other, though they only ever bickered, and neither of them seemed aware of the others’ feelings. But they never acted on their feelings, and no one ever expected them to, simply because Mikey was Walter’s Beta, and Amber was Winnie’s, and packs didn’t mix, especially if their was a chance of a Claiming.

Claiming—that was the part of all of this that had intrigued me the most. It started with a bite. One person had to bite their partner directly over the heart, hard enough to leave a scar that would be there forever. In another sense, one wolf had to mark their partner as their territory. It was possessive in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t deny that deep down inside of me, I wanted to share that intimate, lifelong promise with Walter.

It was insane for a number of reasons. Not only had I met the Alpha just a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t even officially in his pack, and a Claiming with an Alpha would make me second-in-command. There were a few steps I would be skipping if that happened. Not to mention that Walter Marshall was the only unclaimed Alpha over the age of thirty-five in the entire city, and there was a reason for that. I didn’t know the details, but I knew it had something to do with his past. Our age was another factor. He was almost 40, while I had just turned 25.

And yet, here I was, wanting his mark anyways. He was quiet and reserved enough to make him mysterious, and that only pulled me in more. In the first week I was there, I found any way I could to talk to him, mainly to thank him for giving me a safe place for this new season of life. But he had disappeared with Andy and Charles Barber—two Beta brothers—for an entire week. Winnie had only said that they were taking care of business on the other side of the city, but when the three men came back, there was a darkness to all of them that told me whatever they had been doing… It hadn’t been fun.

Walter was harder to reach in the days that followed. When I would knock on his office door and ask him if he was able to train me today—something both he and Winnie insisted on their packs doing in their daily routine—he would snap and order me to leave, the sound of his growl following me out the door. He apologized for his behavior three days later, and bought takeout from my favorite restaurant to make it up to me, but I still couldn’t forget that side of him. The side of him that turned his soft blue eyes completely black. The part of him that was all animal, only selfishness and cold edges.

And yet, even after all of that, I still wanted him. I’d lost count of the number of times I’d woken up panting in the middle of the night, rising out of a dream of those blue eyes looking down at me as he fucked my throat, making me gag and cry around his cock. The sound of my own moans had forced me awake before dawn this morning. The memory of Walter’s intense gaze holding my reflection’s as he fucked me in the bathroom had followed me all day.

I was still wound up as I made my way to the game room. The smell of alcohol was strong throughout the house. The packs were celebrating Walter and Winnie’s thirty-eighth birthday tonight, and everyone, it seemed, was intent on getting blackout drunk. There were three kegs in the living room. It took Shifters a lot longer to get drunk, so I wasn’t surprised to find that the kegs were already halfway empty by the time I filled a cup for myself.

But I was surprised to find Walter perched on the roof when I made my way up to my regular hiding spot. He didn’t look over at me when I climbed onto the roof, but he didn’t seem startled when I took a seat beside him, and I knew his Shifter senses had probably heard me before I’d even climbed up the stairs that led up here.

“I see you stole my hiding spot,” I remarked as I took a sip of my beer.

“This way my hiding spot first, actually.” There’s amusement in his eyes as he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but the amusement is only a cover. I note the darker emotion hiding beneath, and I recognize it instantly. It’s the same thing I’ve been feeling since my first Shift.

Loneliness.

“So technically you stole it from me,” Walter continued, giving me a ghost of a smile.

Though the air was light between us for once, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Why are you hiding on your birthday?”

He sighed and looked out at the valley below us. The city lights reflected in his eyes, making the blue in them sparkle. He chugged back the rest of his beer before answering, “I’m thirty-eight tonight.”

“So I’ve heard.” The light tone was clearly forced, but I continued anyways. “Congratulations.”

His long fingers parted thick curls before he clutched the roots of his hair and squeezed, looking frustrated and… defeated. “I’m thirty-eight—and I still don’t have a goddamn mate.”

Oh.

I didn’t know what to do. Part of me was more than ready to say, Take me. Claim me. I’ll be your mate. But I knew that was overstepping. I didn’t know how to comfort him.

“Walter—” I began.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t burden you with this. I think I’ve had a few too many drinks.”

We both knew that was a lie. He was too collected to be drunk. Everything—save for his brutal honesty—screamed completely sober.

“I just…” He went on, then stopped himself.

I put a hand on his arm and had to physically force myself not to lean into the warmth of his body heat. When his blue eyes met mine, I nearly lost control. God, I wanted him. I wanted to ran my hands through his hair; wanted to know the way his moans sounded as he filled me up; wanted to feel his mouth on me—

I shook my head in an attempt to clear my mind. “It’s okay,” I told him. “You can tell me.”

He hesitated.

“You’ve been there for me since I got here,” I pointed out. “It’s only fair that I do the same for you.”

His eyes scanned my face, and I got the feeling that he could see into my soul. It unnerved me as much as it made me want to bear myself to him. He finally said, “You don’t owe me anything, Erin. I was being a good Alpha.”

“You let a stranger into your home,” I argued. “That qualifies as more than simply being a good Alpha. There’s other packs in the city, yet you were the only one who opened your door to me. And you’ve let me stay here when you could have just as easily sent me away. You’re not just a good Alpha, Walter, you’re…” I almost said, you’re everything, but I caught myself.

But the way he looked at me… I had a feeling that he heard what I didn’t say.

“And maybe you think I don’t owe you,” I went on, “but I want to be there for you. I want to give you whatever you need.”

His eyes left my face to stare at the hand I placed on his arm. He reached for it, and at first I thought he was going to push me away, but he simply held my hand between his own. He opened my fingers and stared at my palm as if he was going to tell me my future. A thick, calloused finger traced across the lines on my palm. The touch was simple and gentle, but it made me shiver nonetheless.

“I’m the only Alpha in the city without a mate,” he finally admitted. “That fact has never bothered me before. I always liked being on my old. I thought I was better that way. It was enough always having to keep an eye on Winnie; I never had a want for someone else to look out for.”

“But now…?” I guessed there was a “but” in that sentence.

His focus was locked on his fingers as he traced the outline of my hand. Something about the way his rough skin felt against mine… It made heat stir in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t realize I had started to lean into him until there was just a few inches of space left between us.

“But now,” he finally said, and sighed. “Now I find myself wanting something I don’t know if I can have.”

“A mate?” Why couldn’t he have that?

“You.” He finally met my gaze, just as the words clicked in my mind.

Heat made my cheeks burn bright red as I repeated his words. “M-me? What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you.” His gaze was unapologetic, yet the twist of his mouth… I could tell he was fighting some internal battle. “When I first saw you in that back alley, hiding under that shed from the rain…”

I was silent as he spoke, simply because I’d never heard all the details of what had happened that night, and Walter was the only one with that memory.

“I had Shifted too,” he admitted. “The pack Shifts together on full moons. The Omegas and some of the Betas are less overwhelmed by it if we’re all together. But something had drawn me away from the pack, like some string had pulled me out onto the streets…”

Only once he said something did I realize that I did remember a part of that night. It wasn’t a memory of what had happened, but rather… a feeling I had gotten. Like someone had been calling my name and I had gone in search of them.

“I’d never experienced anything like that before,” Walter continued. “And when I found you, shaking from fear and the cold… I knew I had to do something. The urge to protect you was overbearing. So I brought you home. I told myself it just from the intensity of the Shift that I felt like that, but when you Shifted back the next morning… I knew I couldn’t just let you walk away. So I told you to stay, and I knew that if you had said no, I would have done anything to change your mind.”

“Walter…” My voice was a quiet whisper as my thoughts began to race. “Do you think… That feeling… I felt it too. Is that what…”

“What having a mate feels like?” he guessed.

All I could do was nod. Somehow I already knew the answer, but I needed to hear him say it.

“Maybe.” When his gaze met mine, I realized he looked as lost as I felt. “I couldn’t say one way or another; I’ve never had a mate. But if it is…” He finally dropped my hand, only to cup my face and pull me towards him. “Listen to me, Erin. Even if…” He paused, as if he was struggling to say it out loud, too. “Even if we’re mates, that doesn’t mean you have to choose me. You can walk away. Hell, you can even…” He practically flinched at these words, as if saying them was a physical blow—“You can even choose someone else. Another man. I’m not going to force you into anything.”

I didn’t know what to say. “I think I want another drink.”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes, but it was gone in a blink. He rose to his feet, insisting that he get it for me. I watched him walk away. He took four steps—and froze. His entire back went rigid, too stiff for a human. His Shifter instincts had picked up on something.

I froze, wondering what was happening, what he had picked up on.

But he merely turned to face me again. Slowly. “Erin.”

I tried to sense his source of distress, but I couldn’t pick up on anything. The only thing I picked up on was how that look in his eyes sent heat straight to my core. “What is it, Walter?” I was on my feet and closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.

“Don’t move!” he practically yelled.

I paused, almost jumping at his volume.

His eyes were wild, frantic, looking like an animal caught in a trap.

“What’s wrong?” I asked again, resisting the urge to reach out to him.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” Every muscle in his body was taut as he asked the question.

I frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He simply said, “You’re going through heat.”

Oh.

Winnie had explained that to me on one of my first days here. She’d said it happens to every female Shifter. Her hormones—particularly the horny ones—exploded, and every male Shifter around her could sense it. Apparently, it drove the males as crazy as the females, though it was dangerous to be an Omega—specifically an unclaimedOmega—around any Alphas while in heat.

That’s why Walter wasn’t moving, wasn’t even breathing: he was trying not to pounce on me and take what he wanted. What we both needed.

All those dreams about him… They finally made sense. I was preparing for my first heat.

Only once he brought it to my attention did I realize just how hot I was. My heart was hammering in my chest, flames boiling beneath my skin, and—god, when had I gotten so wet?

“Walter…” My voice was a high-pitched whine.

“You’ll be okay.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest. The look in his eyes matched the relentless ferocity rising in my core.

God, I needed him. “Please…”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t, Erin. We’re both unclaimed. I won’t be able to control myself—”

I took a step towards him—and practically cried out. The burning in my core—between my legs—it was unbearable. I needed to ease the ache inside of me. My hand moved of its own accord towards my legs, and before I knew it I was touching myself over my jeans.

Walter’s eyes were locked on my hand. “Erin… you’re killing me.”

“Please, Walter,” I begged, my body no longer under my control. “I need you. I can’t breathe—”

That was when he kissed me. He wasn’t the first person I had kissed, but he felt like the first person who mattered. Our mouths molded together and I moved against him in a way that said, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.

“God, I can smell you,” he breathed into my neck, his low voice nothing more than a moan. “You’re already wet for me, baby.”

All I could do was moan as he pressed me against his erection. His mouth trailed down my neck, over my clavicle, and stopped over my heart.

“I want you,” I cried out as I ran my hands through his hair. “Mark me, Walter. Please.”

He brought his mouth to my chest, but he didn’t bite me like I expected him to. Instead, he brushed a soft kiss against my skin. I whined as he pulled away and moved me from his lap.

“Did I do something wrong?” I panicked, feeling like an idiot—

“No,” he assured me. “You’re… god, you’re perfect. But I’m not about to fuck you on the roof. I doubt you’ll want the entire neighborhood to hear you moaning for me.”

My face flushed instantly, but I didn’t say anything as he rose to his feet and pulled me inside, not stopping until we were in his room. An Alpha’s room was a place very few people ever saw. It was more intimate than a regular bedroom; it was stepping into his territory, walking onto his turf, and I knew that something had permanently changed between us as I crossed the threshold into the room.

The room was rather simple. A king-sized bed was pressed against the left wall. The crimson sheets were the only color in the room. The right side of the wall had a desk covered in files and papers. Newspaper clippings hung above it, stamped into the wall with thumb tacks. I didn’t have a moment to read what all the papers were about before Walter distracted me.

He arms wrapped around me as he lifted me up in the air. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. I clung to his shoulders, but he held me easily, as if I weighed no more than a few pounds. The show of pure strength did nothing to help the wet mess between my legs.

Walter walked us to the bed and lied me down on my back. He hovered over me but didn’t move to touch me. The longing and lust in his eyes was so vibrant, so undeniable, that I writher beneath him.

But his tone was calm as he said, “I need to ask you again. Is this what you want, Erin?”

“So much,” I breathed before pulling him against me.

His thigh moved between my legs, and he deepened the kiss as his leg pressed tightly against my core, applying pressure where I needed it most. Though our hands ran along each other’s bodies in a hungry frenzy, he kissed me differently than he had on the roof. It wasn’t rushed or desperate this time, but rather deep and slow and just as sensual. My toes curled.

I cried out as his mouth moved to my ear. He nipped at my earlobe—an action that sent shivers through my body—before whispering, “What is it, baby girl? What do you want? My fingers?”

I writhed against him.

“My mouth?”

Oh, fuck.

“Both?”

A wanton moan escaped me before I could stop it.

“Or are you already too desperate? That’s what it smells like to me. My little omega’s falling apart and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’re already desperate for me to fill your aching cunt, aren’t you, baby girl?”

His tone was different than I’d ever heard it. He spoke in a low, husky voice, and his tone was teasing but demanding at the same time. It made me dizzy.

“Already forgotten your words, omega? Has the heat gotten to your brain?” He buried his face in the crook of my neck and rubbed his nose along the skin below my ear. He was scenting me. “Or is it your Alpha who’s gotten to you?”

Instead of answering, I clawed at his clothes desperately, trying to undress him in my lustful haze. He allowed me to take his shirt off, though he undid his pants himself. His body… how was he even more impressive naked? I took one look at those sculpted muscles, at the dark swirls of hair that covered his chest and stomach, and knew that that was the kind of body that put the gods to shame. His cock bounced against his stomach as he stepped out of his underwear. It was thick and long, and as I watched the red, aching tip release pre-cum, I wondered how I could possibly fit his girth inside of me.

“My turn,” he breathed before moving to hover over me again.

One minute I was clad in my shorts and t-shirt, and the neck my clothes were in shreds on the floor. Walter’s hungry gaze made note of every inch of skin I beared for him, and I was too fucked out to feel self-conscious.

“Fuck me, Alpha,” I begged. “I need you inside of me!”

He growled before spreading my legs and pressing his length against my core. Our lips met just as he pushed inside me, and my nails dug into his shoulder at the burst of pleasure that ripped from me. His mouth was on my chest a second later, and as he kneaded my breasts in his hands, his teeth cut into the skin over my heart.

Claiming me.

...

tag squad:

@agniavateira @littlefreya @celestial-vomit @lestersglitterglue @honeychicana @penwieldingdreamer @mary-ann84 @elixasays @buckysgoldenheart @noz4a2 @trippedmetaldetector @omgkatinka @lunedelorient @aphrodites-punch @yespolkadotkitty @sweetybuzz25 @iloveyouyen @deathonyourtongue @wondersofdreaming @tsukuyomi011 @the-soot-sprite @desperate-and-broken @palaiasaurus64 @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @henrythickcavill @secretlyactivated @madbaddic7ed @wheretheriversrunintothesea @ravenclawvsfairytales @eldarwen333 @mzchievous-blog @myloveforhenrycavill @jayismz

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from my taglist

#walter marshall #walter marshall night hunter #henry cavill smut #walter marshall smut

101 notes · View notes